This is the English translation of my Japanese article for Nikkan San, a part of my bi-weekly column, “The Way of the Pianist.”
The blue sky today makes us wonder if the record-breaking downpour in the last few weeks was but a figment of our imagination.
Moisture in the air diffuse the soundwaves, muffling the sound. That same moisture affects high-frequency soundwaves of the higher pitches and low-frequency soundwaves of the lower pitches differently, and changing the balance between the registers, too. On top of that, the instrument itself absorbs moisture. Especially in the case of pianos, we have woods and felts expanding with the absorbed moisture, each part and material reacting to various severity to the humidity. At its worst, the frictions in the mechanisms cause the keys to become weightier. On the other hand, on a sunny dry day, the sound travels with ease, and keys become lighter.
“Nothing is either good or bad, but only thinking makes it so” said Shakespeare. I am not saying that humidity is bad. It’s just what it is, and what to do about it. In order to deliver the best possible performance under each circumstance, pianists need to understand and assess each situation objectively, and stay open-minded, flexible and resourceful.
What makes a life performance precious is its specificity to that space, time and occasion. It can never be reproduced. Even if I was to play the exact same program in the same hall on the same piano back to back on one day and the next, they will be different. The humidity will be different. On a colder day, the audience members will come with more layers of clothing, that absorb the sound more. And the combination of each personality of each audience members produce different energy and characters in the audience. What I feel from the facial expressions of the audience members, the sighs I hear and feel in between the phrases, the timing, the volume, and the timbre of the applause… Each of these things affect how I feel about the music I play. That is why I often say to my audiences that a concert is a collaborative production, that each audience has as much to do with the music that we share that night.
I sometimes feel the need to appeal to the audience with that message because we have become so accustomed to having no affect over the things that are blasted at us from TV, radios, the internet, and recordings… It delivers what it does regardless of who and how we are. I much prefer a live show. And what about you?
I Definitely prefer a live performance!
To play a part (albeit minuscule), in the creation of the magic that is music is the pinnacle what one may hope to accomplish while listening to an artist. And, if perchance the opportunity to meet and speak with the artist comes along, then the evening becomes even more magical. Moments come but once and cannot be experienced in the same manner again. It is only in the *now* that we live our lives so each moment ought be cherished, for once the time has passed, it is gone forever.
As a philosopher once wrote, ““When we listen to music,….the will is quieted, and we are temporarily sheltered from the storm.”———Schopenhauer”
My Dearest Makiko, may your music have sheltered you from this storm, and continue to provide shelter for all the storms of life.
Manuel
Dear Manuel
“Moments come but once and cannot be experienced in the same manner again. It is only in the *now* that we live our lives so each moment ought be cherished, for once the time has passed, it is gone forever.”
What a beautiful way of putting it! Thank you!!
Makiko