Free2Create

As if 88 keys weren't enough.... a fascinating look at the possibilities of a Steinway with two keyboards.

The other day I saw a marvelous television program in which Bill Moyers interviewed Pema Chödrön, an elderly American lady, now Buddhist nun, who has become famous for her wisdom mixed with common sense.

One of the subjects she dealt with that struck me with great force was the difference between pain and suffering. The interpretation she chose to differentiate between those words was powerful. She described pain as being for example, an unwelcome event, an injury, a disappointment, and so on. And suffering is what we then do inside ourselves in response to that event.

I've been finding Michelle Bennett's recent posts on her blog very thought-provoking. She's been extremely courageous in revealing her inner challenges as a student and a professional singer, and how these have led her to psychotherapy and inner work alongside her musical life. So often musicians, like any professionals, are extremely hesitant to reveal anything less than perfection. Yet, the reality is that we are all dealing with inner challenges every day. And, as Michelle says:

"There is no doubt that the process of facing one’s self is hugely difficult, especially if, like many artists, you have been hurt badly or are very sensitive. I would wager that most people will never do it because of the enormous effort required and pain of the task. It is an odyssey."

I thoroughly enjoyed Stephen Hough's article in today's Guardian about the relatively recent separation of the roles of composer and performer.

It is only since starting to improvise and compose over the last ten years that I realize how my education was so separatist in that regard, both at school and university-- "composing was for the prodigy and the rest of us probably wouldn't write anything worth listening to" seemed to be the prevailing attitude.

Stephen writes: "...there is a modesty that is snobbery and one that is laziness, but a much more common form is just plain timidity. Anyone who can read music can write it too - and should. It doesn't have to be performed, and it may not be very inspired, but to be totally divorced from the act of creation risks making us neighbours rather than relatives to the works we play. And, by the same token, composers who never perform risk writing music that is impractical and even unplayable."

Looking back, I think I was a 'neighbour' to some extent. However much I was taught to analyse the works of others, it never seemed feasible that I might actually write something myself-- certainly not sitting at a desk with manuscript paper and pencil. My liberation eventually came through discovering that improvisation (forbidden when I was a child) produced much more satisfying results. It also freed me to play the standard repertoire with greater vitality and insight. Experimenting myself with harmonic or motivic building blocks, I could then understand more deeply from the inside how Bach or Beethoven were composing.

My forthcoming article in American Music Teacher, "Intuitive Improvisation", lays out in greater detail some good places for the budding improviser to start. Until then, I would just encourage any of you to 'have a go' and have fun!