Wednesday, November 24, 2010
A commercial message
We will be spending part of the winter in Vero Beach, Florida. I will have a piano at our house and would be happy to do some voice teaching while I'm there. If you know of singers in that area who might like to work with me, please ask them to email me either at roodhill@verizon.net or through my website www.hburtis.com
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Perils of an Accompanist
Last night I performed a concert in Hartford, CT with an exceptional soprano, Kathleen Callahan. Kate has been studying with me since last June and has made enormous progress. She came to me with a gorgeous voice and a fine background in vocal study: The Eastman School and Juilliard. The problem was, as a student of mine from many years ago (who wound up at the Met, incidentally) used to say: 'The voice had her, rather than her having the voice.'
This is what Kate and I set out to determine beginning last summer. Last evening proved that we are on the right track. She opened the concert with 'Ain't it a Pretty Night' from Carlyle Floyd's Susanna, much of which depends on pianissimo high singing. I still have fond memories of Phyllis Curtin singing this in the first performances of this opera at the old City Center on 55th Street.
She also sang 'The Willow Song' from Verdi's Otello, which has some of the same requirements. While she can certainly provide the forte climaxes in both of these arias, she has now learned how to produce an effortless pianissimo, even on high 'A's' and 'B's'. This is what happened last night to the delight of the audience, as well as to that of her teacher. Her songs by Rodrigo, Strauss, Duparc, and Copland also benefited from this new ability that she is mastering.
Last night the problem was her teacher and accompanist- Moi! I was suffering from an acute allergy attack. Somehow when using both hands on the piano keyboard, it is almost impossible to take care of the symptoms of an allergic reaction. To put it bluntly, I was performing with a very runny nose! Remember the one-armed paper hanger with the itch?? I was somehow able to hold back a couple of sneezes until we got to the really loud parts of several pieces when, thanks to her enormous voice and the volume of the piano at the moment, I could release a muffled sneeze or two that I hope did not bother the audience. I think that this is the first time I have ever performed with some kind of cold or allergy when my adrenaline did not shut off this condition. Must be old age?
All in all, my condition did not adversely affect our performance; it just presented me with a challenge I had never had to face before. Now I know why Pavarotti always carried that big handkerchief! I may start doing likewise.
This is not unusual with large, voluptuous voices. Often singers with this kind of instrument get by on their wonderful sound alone. As Olga Averino used to say, having heard a gorgeous, big voice: 'Now, what else can you do?' In short, any singer, whatever her vocal endowments, must have a wide range of sounds- volume, color, vocal range, emotional involvement. The voice alone is never enough.
This is what Kate and I set out to determine beginning last summer. Last evening proved that we are on the right track. She opened the concert with 'Ain't it a Pretty Night' from Carlyle Floyd's Susanna, much of which depends on pianissimo high singing. I still have fond memories of Phyllis Curtin singing this in the first performances of this opera at the old City Center on 55th Street.
She also sang 'The Willow Song' from Verdi's Otello, which has some of the same requirements. While she can certainly provide the forte climaxes in both of these arias, she has now learned how to produce an effortless pianissimo, even on high 'A's' and 'B's'. This is what happened last night to the delight of the audience, as well as to that of her teacher. Her songs by Rodrigo, Strauss, Duparc, and Copland also benefited from this new ability that she is mastering.
Last night the problem was her teacher and accompanist- Moi! I was suffering from an acute allergy attack. Somehow when using both hands on the piano keyboard, it is almost impossible to take care of the symptoms of an allergic reaction. To put it bluntly, I was performing with a very runny nose! Remember the one-armed paper hanger with the itch?? I was somehow able to hold back a couple of sneezes until we got to the really loud parts of several pieces when, thanks to her enormous voice and the volume of the piano at the moment, I could release a muffled sneeze or two that I hope did not bother the audience. I think that this is the first time I have ever performed with some kind of cold or allergy when my adrenaline did not shut off this condition. Must be old age?
All in all, my condition did not adversely affect our performance; it just presented me with a challenge I had never had to face before. Now I know why Pavarotti always carried that big handkerchief! I may start doing likewise.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Two for the Show
We have just returned from several days in New York City. Ostensibly our reason for the trip was to hear the brilliant young violinist, Yevgeny Kutik. The Ferris Burtis Foundation has been helping Yevgeny in his education and career for a number of years and I try to attend as many of his performances as possible.
It turns out that we got two brilliant performers for the price of one. On Tuesday night we were able to get tickets for Stephen Sondheim's brilliant piece of musical theatre, A Little Night Music, which is based on Ingmar Bergman's film Smiles of a Summer Night, which, in turn, is based on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Not a bad plot line!
An excellent cast portrayed the various characters in the play. But the standout was eighty-four year old Elaine Stritch as Madame Armfeldt! Talk about investing one's self in a role, she commanded the stage in each of her appearances. In 'Liasons', she was on stage alone for a good seven minutes mesmerizing us poor mortals in the audience. I don't know when I've been more captivated and moved by a performance.
From the rest of the cast I especially admired Stephen R. Buntrock, who played and sang the part of Fredrik Egerman. Both his singing and acting were superb.
The one fly in the ointment was Bernadette Peters, cast as Desirée Armfeldt, but actually playing Bernadette Peters. She has a limited dramatic range. As Alexander Wolcott once said of Tallulah Bankhead: 'She ran the gamut of emotions from A to B.' The original production, which I saw in 1973, starred Glynis Johns, Len Cariou, and Hermione Gingold in the leading roles. Bernadette is no Glynis, trust me.
But that Elaine! What a trouper! What a performer! I guess when you have been doing something for as long as she has, you just know how to get it right. She's a remarkable lady!
Then on Wednesday night, going from the sublime to the even more sublime, we heard Yevgeny Kutik in concert at The National Arts Club in Gramercy Park.
This historic building, once the home of Samuel Tilden, is not the ideal place to hold a concert. The concert room is a rectangular space with folding chairs, much like the concerts I hold in my music studio. But Yevgeny surmounted all odds, playing like a cross between an angel and a demon. Opening with several Preludes from Opus 34 of Shostakovich, and continuing with Beethoven's Sonata # 3, Largo from the Bach third Sonata for Solo Violin, the amazing Schnittke Sonata No. 1, two excerpts for solo violin from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, and ending with the Wieniawski Polonaise No. 1, Op. 4. It was a brilliant program in every way.
His fleet-fingered pianist was Akira Eguchi, who played very well but I much prefer the work Yevgeny does with his long-time piano partner, Tim Bozarth. Familiarity breeds other things besides contempt.
One distraction was the fact that in a near-by room some group was having a lively, and very audible, dinner party.This bit of poor planning on the part of the National Arts Club distracted me, as I'm sure it did many others in the audience, but Yevgeny has the ability to go so deeply into the music that a bomb could go off and he would not hear it. What an amazing young man. And what an incredible musician. What amazing concentration! Now I want to hear him in Alice Tully Hall and Jordan Hall and with a major symphony. He is more that ready for the big time.
So we heard two performers, born almost a century apart, whose commitment to their art is so enormous that they can bring their audience completely into their heart and hold them there. Bravo to both of them.
http://www.yevgenykutik.com/
http://www.berkshiretaconic.org/
It turns out that we got two brilliant performers for the price of one. On Tuesday night we were able to get tickets for Stephen Sondheim's brilliant piece of musical theatre, A Little Night Music, which is based on Ingmar Bergman's film Smiles of a Summer Night, which, in turn, is based on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Not a bad plot line!
An excellent cast portrayed the various characters in the play. But the standout was eighty-four year old Elaine Stritch as Madame Armfeldt! Talk about investing one's self in a role, she commanded the stage in each of her appearances. In 'Liasons', she was on stage alone for a good seven minutes mesmerizing us poor mortals in the audience. I don't know when I've been more captivated and moved by a performance.
From the rest of the cast I especially admired Stephen R. Buntrock, who played and sang the part of Fredrik Egerman. Both his singing and acting were superb.
The one fly in the ointment was Bernadette Peters, cast as Desirée Armfeldt, but actually playing Bernadette Peters. She has a limited dramatic range. As Alexander Wolcott once said of Tallulah Bankhead: 'She ran the gamut of emotions from A to B.' The original production, which I saw in 1973, starred Glynis Johns, Len Cariou, and Hermione Gingold in the leading roles. Bernadette is no Glynis, trust me.
But that Elaine! What a trouper! What a performer! I guess when you have been doing something for as long as she has, you just know how to get it right. She's a remarkable lady!
Then on Wednesday night, going from the sublime to the even more sublime, we heard Yevgeny Kutik in concert at The National Arts Club in Gramercy Park.
This historic building, once the home of Samuel Tilden, is not the ideal place to hold a concert. The concert room is a rectangular space with folding chairs, much like the concerts I hold in my music studio. But Yevgeny surmounted all odds, playing like a cross between an angel and a demon. Opening with several Preludes from Opus 34 of Shostakovich, and continuing with Beethoven's Sonata # 3, Largo from the Bach third Sonata for Solo Violin, the amazing Schnittke Sonata No. 1, two excerpts for solo violin from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, and ending with the Wieniawski Polonaise No. 1, Op. 4. It was a brilliant program in every way.
His fleet-fingered pianist was Akira Eguchi, who played very well but I much prefer the work Yevgeny does with his long-time piano partner, Tim Bozarth. Familiarity breeds other things besides contempt.
One distraction was the fact that in a near-by room some group was having a lively, and very audible, dinner party.This bit of poor planning on the part of the National Arts Club distracted me, as I'm sure it did many others in the audience, but Yevgeny has the ability to go so deeply into the music that a bomb could go off and he would not hear it. What an amazing young man. And what an incredible musician. What amazing concentration! Now I want to hear him in Alice Tully Hall and Jordan Hall and with a major symphony. He is more that ready for the big time.
So we heard two performers, born almost a century apart, whose commitment to their art is so enormous that they can bring their audience completely into their heart and hold them there. Bravo to both of them.
http://www.yevgenykutik.com/
http://www.berkshiretaconic.org/
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Come to the Cabaret!
Recently I have been performing a series of Cabaret performances with my long-time friend and student Peggy. She is a classical singer who has flown the heights of The Queen of the Night, but who can also sing show tunes convincingly. I, at 80 and a half, am amazed that I have any voice at all, but if Elaine Stritch and Barbara Cook can still do it, so can I.
A number of my students have sung both classical and show songs but that doesn't work for all voices. Men have an easier time going from opera to pop than women, especially women opera singers. There are several disastrous examples of Divas trying to let their hair down and 'get with it'. Renée Fleming's cross-over albums attest to this fact. Eileen Farrell, who had a much bigger voice than Renée, made the switch brilliantly.
I tell my students who sing show, pop, and even rock, that your technique must not change when singing a different type of song. It is really a matter of style.
One of my students has his own band, for instance. He also is a soloist in church and has done regional theatre successfully. He told me only yesterday that in the past his voice would tire when singing with his band. It no longer does that. He has learned a good, free technique which he can adapt to what ever kind of music he is singing.
Years ago a young woman came to me with serious vocal problems. She had been singing rock for a number of years and her vocal cords were threadbare. It took a long time and a lot of convincing, but I finally got her to sing on a lower breath and a much better technique and she was vocally happy for the first time in a long while.
Early music singers for a long time, especially the sopranos, sang with what Anna Russell called the 'British Pure White Tone'. This is popular to this day, unfortunately, with some choral conductors who expect forty year old women to sing like six year old boys. Here it's all a matter of vibrato. Any voice with absolutely no vibrato is a voice that is being held. Vibrato is a natural result of the muscles of the larynx working (involuntarily, by the way) and the air passing between the vocal cords. Thank Heaven, along came Lorraine Hunt Lieberson who proved that one can sing early music with a full rich tone and be perfectly in the correct musical style for the period.
We only have one set of vocal cords. They are endlessly adaptive if one uses them properly with a low breath and a free technique. So- Cabaret-Smabaret.
Just sing the damned song!
A number of my students have sung both classical and show songs but that doesn't work for all voices. Men have an easier time going from opera to pop than women, especially women opera singers. There are several disastrous examples of Divas trying to let their hair down and 'get with it'. Renée Fleming's cross-over albums attest to this fact. Eileen Farrell, who had a much bigger voice than Renée, made the switch brilliantly.
I tell my students who sing show, pop, and even rock, that your technique must not change when singing a different type of song. It is really a matter of style.
One of my students has his own band, for instance. He also is a soloist in church and has done regional theatre successfully. He told me only yesterday that in the past his voice would tire when singing with his band. It no longer does that. He has learned a good, free technique which he can adapt to what ever kind of music he is singing.
Years ago a young woman came to me with serious vocal problems. She had been singing rock for a number of years and her vocal cords were threadbare. It took a long time and a lot of convincing, but I finally got her to sing on a lower breath and a much better technique and she was vocally happy for the first time in a long while.
Early music singers for a long time, especially the sopranos, sang with what Anna Russell called the 'British Pure White Tone'. This is popular to this day, unfortunately, with some choral conductors who expect forty year old women to sing like six year old boys. Here it's all a matter of vibrato. Any voice with absolutely no vibrato is a voice that is being held. Vibrato is a natural result of the muscles of the larynx working (involuntarily, by the way) and the air passing between the vocal cords. Thank Heaven, along came Lorraine Hunt Lieberson who proved that one can sing early music with a full rich tone and be perfectly in the correct musical style for the period.
We only have one set of vocal cords. They are endlessly adaptive if one uses them properly with a low breath and a free technique. So- Cabaret-Smabaret.
Just sing the damned song!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Visiting singers of the past
This evening we played a VCR that has been gathering dust in my archives for much too long. It is First Ladies of the Opera filmed for the Bell Telephone Hour in 1967. The Bell Telephone Hour used to be a staple in my home growing up, first on the radio and later on TV.
Donald Voorhees introduced each Diva and had a brief interview with her. First was Birgit Nilsson who opened with 'Dich teure Halle' from Wagner's Tannhäuser. With her brilliant, radiant tone she blazed her way through the aria in fine fettle. She then sang 'In questa Reggia' from Turandot, which she apparently sang at the Met. I heard her sing many roles there but, somehow, missed that one. While hers is certainly not an Italianate voice, she could belt out the high tessitura required for the role. It brought back memories of Salome and Elektra that I had heard her do in the house. Her Tosca, on the other hand just didn't work in her Nordic voice. But it was truly a voice for the ages.
Next came Leontyne Price, that great American soprano. She sang 'Io son l'umile ancella' from Ariadne Lecouvreur of Cilea and 'Pace, Pace, mio Dio' from La Forza del Destino. I had heard her sing the Verdi many times in the hall but never the Cilea. The thing that amazed me the most about her singing was that every breath she took was a nose breath! That's a no-no in my Book of Singing Rules, but for her it worked. Later in her career I heard her sing this aria with the Boston Symphony in Symphony Hall. By that time in her career her middle voice had almost disappeared and the malediziones started in a very strange nasal place in the middle of her voice. Perhaps if she had taken a mouth breath and relaxed the larynx it would have worked better.
Then came Joan Sutherland, whose recent death saddened the world of opera. She sang the 'Bell Song' from Lakme with incredible bravura and amazing agility. Nobody could nail those high 'E's' like Joan! She also sang an oddity, 'Io no sono piu l'Annette' from Ricci's Crispino e la Comare, which I had never heard of. Her coloratura was simply incredible. Every note right on pitch, a perfect natural trill, and a speed in fioratura that boggles the mind. I had always heard that she had never sung the 'Queen of the Night' role, but recently, when visiting a friend, heard a rcording from Covent Garden in which she did just that. We won't see her like soon again, if ever.
The last was Renata Tebaldi who sang 'Voi lo sapete' from Cavalleria Rusticana of Mascagni and 'Suicidio' from Ponchielli's La Gioconda. This was an amazing voice that often flatted the top notes but had an enormous 'chest voice' akin to that of Marilyn Horne.
A trip back into musical history. I was fortunate to have heard all of these women on stage during their heyday and, sometimes, into their decline. I remember hearing Tebaldi at the Met toward the end of her career. She had a high 'C' to sing and turned and simply screamed offstage left. She was one who should have retired a little earlier.
What a lucky discovery to find this film which I hadn't looked at in years and remember all the glorious times I had been in the audience for these four Divas. Each was unique. Each had a brilliant career, and each will be difficult, if not impossible, to replace by anyone in today's stable of artists.
Donald Voorhees introduced each Diva and had a brief interview with her. First was Birgit Nilsson who opened with 'Dich teure Halle' from Wagner's Tannhäuser. With her brilliant, radiant tone she blazed her way through the aria in fine fettle. She then sang 'In questa Reggia' from Turandot, which she apparently sang at the Met. I heard her sing many roles there but, somehow, missed that one. While hers is certainly not an Italianate voice, she could belt out the high tessitura required for the role. It brought back memories of Salome and Elektra that I had heard her do in the house. Her Tosca, on the other hand just didn't work in her Nordic voice. But it was truly a voice for the ages.
Next came Leontyne Price, that great American soprano. She sang 'Io son l'umile ancella' from Ariadne Lecouvreur of Cilea and 'Pace, Pace, mio Dio' from La Forza del Destino. I had heard her sing the Verdi many times in the hall but never the Cilea. The thing that amazed me the most about her singing was that every breath she took was a nose breath! That's a no-no in my Book of Singing Rules, but for her it worked. Later in her career I heard her sing this aria with the Boston Symphony in Symphony Hall. By that time in her career her middle voice had almost disappeared and the malediziones started in a very strange nasal place in the middle of her voice. Perhaps if she had taken a mouth breath and relaxed the larynx it would have worked better.
Then came Joan Sutherland, whose recent death saddened the world of opera. She sang the 'Bell Song' from Lakme with incredible bravura and amazing agility. Nobody could nail those high 'E's' like Joan! She also sang an oddity, 'Io no sono piu l'Annette' from Ricci's Crispino e la Comare, which I had never heard of. Her coloratura was simply incredible. Every note right on pitch, a perfect natural trill, and a speed in fioratura that boggles the mind. I had always heard that she had never sung the 'Queen of the Night' role, but recently, when visiting a friend, heard a rcording from Covent Garden in which she did just that. We won't see her like soon again, if ever.
The last was Renata Tebaldi who sang 'Voi lo sapete' from Cavalleria Rusticana of Mascagni and 'Suicidio' from Ponchielli's La Gioconda. This was an amazing voice that often flatted the top notes but had an enormous 'chest voice' akin to that of Marilyn Horne.
A trip back into musical history. I was fortunate to have heard all of these women on stage during their heyday and, sometimes, into their decline. I remember hearing Tebaldi at the Met toward the end of her career. She had a high 'C' to sing and turned and simply screamed offstage left. She was one who should have retired a little earlier.
What a lucky discovery to find this film which I hadn't looked at in years and remember all the glorious times I had been in the audience for these four Divas. Each was unique. Each had a brilliant career, and each will be difficult, if not impossible, to replace by anyone in today's stable of artists.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Three for the price of one!
This evening I was privileged to present the Elektra Ensemble in concert through the Ferris-Burtis Foundation of the Berkshire-Taconic Foundation. This brilliant young group of artists raises the emotional temperature of the room in every note. They are Brunlida Myftraraj, violinist, from Albania, Melissa Morgan, 'cellist, from Connecticut, and Igor Lovchinsky, pianist, who is from Russia.
Their riveting program started with the Trio für Klavier, Violine, und Violoncello by Frederic Chopin and concluded with the Trio, Opus 15, by Bedrich Smetana. Their approach to both pieces is through excitement, intense emotion, and brilliant technique. The concert was a gift of the Ferris-Burtis Foundation, Berkshire-Taconic Foundation, Sheffield, MA which supports young artists in their musical careers.
This amazing group of fine musicians has a brilliant career in its future and the Foundation hopes to continue to help them in their future concert life.
Tax-free donations may be made to Ferris-Burtis Foundation, Berkshire-Taconic Foundation, 800 North Main, Sheffield, MA 01257-0400. http://www.berkshiretaconic.org/
The Ensemble may be contacted at http://www.elektraensemble.org/ or
elektraensemble@gmail.com
I can be reached at http://www.hburtis.com/
Their riveting program started with the Trio für Klavier, Violine, und Violoncello by Frederic Chopin and concluded with the Trio, Opus 15, by Bedrich Smetana. Their approach to both pieces is through excitement, intense emotion, and brilliant technique. The concert was a gift of the Ferris-Burtis Foundation, Berkshire-Taconic Foundation, Sheffield, MA which supports young artists in their musical careers.
This amazing group of fine musicians has a brilliant career in its future and the Foundation hopes to continue to help them in their future concert life.
Tax-free donations may be made to Ferris-Burtis Foundation, Berkshire-Taconic Foundation, 800 North Main, Sheffield, MA 01257-0400. http://www.berkshiretaconic.org/
The Ensemble may be contacted at http://www.elektraensemble.org/ or
elektraensemble@gmail.com
I can be reached at http://www.hburtis.com/
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Give him a hand!
Last night I played a concert with a soprano in which something happened to me for the first time in a long while: my right hand worked almost as well as it did in 'the old days'! 'The old days' represent all of my performing life that went on before I slipped on the ice about eight winters ago while walking Casha on Rood Hill Road, and broke the fifth metacarpal in my right hand. The moment I hit the ground on this apparently dry dirt road, having stepped on the one patch of ice available in Berkshire County, I thought, 'You've done something really bad!' Casha came over to me lying there on the ground and looked down at me, as if to say, 'What are you doing down there, Dad?' She's not exactly a St. Bernard with the cask of brandy around her neck, (which I could have used at that point), but she knew this was not a part of our usual winter walk.
I agreed!
At the ER they X-rayed the hand and gave me the bad news. I had cracked the fifth metacarpal, which is the bone that runs through the hand below the fifth finger. They temporarily splinted it and sent me to an orthopedist who put on a permanent cast.
After a few weeks the cast came off and I found I was unable to make a fist. I could scarcely bend my fingers. So much for playing with curved fingers as I was taught by Pearl Fairchild seventy-one years ago.
I did months of therapy on the hand, which helped, but I was not able to do much at the piano. I had had to cancel a number of concerts that had been scheduled that spring. A one handed pianist is not much good in a Strauss song! I did go to New York City on a bus while still in the cast, (since I couldn't drive yet) to work with Lorraine on something or other. She seemed happy to have a one handed voice teacher.
Little by little I tried to play simple things on the piano. I think it was a full year before I tried to perform again. I found that first, I had developed some arthritis in the hand (which the rheumatologist said was not unusual) and second, I had lost a good bit of stretch. Previously I could reach one note over an octave with that hand. Now I had trouble barely reaching an octave.
I set about 're-writing' anything I played; shrinking large, filled-in chords to smaller versions of the harmony, so I could at least make it sound as if I were playing the right notes.
Bit by bit the hand has improved over the past eight years and last night, for the first time in a very long while, I was able to play Strauss, Duparc, and Rodrigo without pain and without cheating too much on large chords.
I am surprised that at my age this kind of recovery, however long in the coming, is possible. I thank my wonderful mentor, Carolyn Willard (a student of Fannie Bloomfield Zeisler, who, in turn, studied with Theodor Leschetizky) who taught me how to play the piano. Had it not been for the careful study I did with her in the 40's and my eight hours a day at the keyboard perfecting the technique in those days, I would be doing something besides playing the piano these days, which is, along with teaching, my life.
I agreed!
At the ER they X-rayed the hand and gave me the bad news. I had cracked the fifth metacarpal, which is the bone that runs through the hand below the fifth finger. They temporarily splinted it and sent me to an orthopedist who put on a permanent cast.
After a few weeks the cast came off and I found I was unable to make a fist. I could scarcely bend my fingers. So much for playing with curved fingers as I was taught by Pearl Fairchild seventy-one years ago.
I did months of therapy on the hand, which helped, but I was not able to do much at the piano. I had had to cancel a number of concerts that had been scheduled that spring. A one handed pianist is not much good in a Strauss song! I did go to New York City on a bus while still in the cast, (since I couldn't drive yet) to work with Lorraine on something or other. She seemed happy to have a one handed voice teacher.
Little by little I tried to play simple things on the piano. I think it was a full year before I tried to perform again. I found that first, I had developed some arthritis in the hand (which the rheumatologist said was not unusual) and second, I had lost a good bit of stretch. Previously I could reach one note over an octave with that hand. Now I had trouble barely reaching an octave.
I set about 're-writing' anything I played; shrinking large, filled-in chords to smaller versions of the harmony, so I could at least make it sound as if I were playing the right notes.
Bit by bit the hand has improved over the past eight years and last night, for the first time in a very long while, I was able to play Strauss, Duparc, and Rodrigo without pain and without cheating too much on large chords.
I am surprised that at my age this kind of recovery, however long in the coming, is possible. I thank my wonderful mentor, Carolyn Willard (a student of Fannie Bloomfield Zeisler, who, in turn, studied with Theodor Leschetizky) who taught me how to play the piano. Had it not been for the careful study I did with her in the 40's and my eight hours a day at the keyboard perfecting the technique in those days, I would be doing something besides playing the piano these days, which is, along with teaching, my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
