Rzewski Reeds for Calefax reed quintet

I wrote two blog entries on why musicians attend concerts to encourage musicians, particularly performers, to go to concerts. Finding the time to attend a concert is hard enough for performers who are time-challenged. Finding the time to blog, in order to share and remember the event, is harder still.

During the academic break in February 2010, I went to meet and hear the composer Frederic Rzewski at Amsterdam Conservatory.

I brought along a pianist friend who was grateful for the break from teaching. She said, “I should be going to more concerts like this — not just piano concerts. Thanks for inviting me.”

I first heard of Rzewski (pronounced jef-ski) in the summer of 2006 at a contemporary music festival in Italy. The American pianist Thomas Rosenkranz took us through an in-depth analysis of what is probably his most famous work,”The People United Won’t Be Defeated.” It was so fascinating that I carved it into my memory forever. When the opportunity came to hear him speak in person, I just had to make the time for it.

Rzewski was in Amsterdam for the premiere of his work “REEDS” for the Calefax reed quintet. He was also enthusiastic to share his nanosonatas. When asked about it, he told the story of his gift to the Okinawan scientist and amateur pianist Hideyuki Arata. As I spent 11 years of my childhood in Okinawa, I was naturally interested in anything remoted related to the island. This was just one of many stories and anecdotes he told — all very interesting and inspiring.

In the ensuing question & answer session, after his performance of the last set of nanosonatas, my pianist friend asked about subsidies for composers. His reply was thought provoking. “Does having a system of subsidy like you have in this country (Netherlands) improve the quality of the creative output?”

I took a lot of notes and had a lot of interesting conversations with other fans of Rzewski afterwards. The pre-concert talk at the Muziekgebouw aan’t Ij gave more information about the world premiere that was commissioned by Calefax. I seriously believe that new music needs to be introduced or explained beforehand. The context is important. Pre-concert talks are a blessing to have.

The all-male Calefax reed quintet is one of the leading Dutch ensembles with an international presence. I was amazed at the different kinds of sounds that could emerge from blowing on a reed mouthpiece. The reed instruments are oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and saxophone, but within these families are the additional bass clarinet, bass bassoon, and the entire range of saxophone (from bass to soprano). That evening’s concert also featured composer/percussionist Arnold Marinissen — hence rietslag — reed + percussion, one of Calefax’s many programmes.

Recording our first CD (part 1: location)

We have arrived at the final stage of getting our first CD out of the Monument House to the CD printers. It has taken 9 years to put together our first CD.

Why has it taken so long, you ask. Read my blog “the long and winding road towards our first CD” to get an idea.

Last autumn, we decided to find a suitable location to record for our first CD. After a guitar duo concert in August 2009, we did a test recording at Leendert Meeshuis in Bilthoven. Surrounded by a forest, the building is named after a doctor who played piano to his patients. Hummel’s Potpourri was good enough to include on this CD but where?

We tried recording at the church in Bennebroek where we had given a concert in April 2009. I liked the Bechstein, and the proprietor remembered us. After getting it tuned, we discovered that the church had too much reverb. We needed human bodies to bring down the echo.

Next we tried both halls of the new building of the Pier K music school in Nieuw Vennep. The outdoor construction made it impossible to continue without long breaks. Still we managed to get the Polonoise (Polonaise) from the Variations op. 113 (65) of Giuliani recorded.

Concert hall in Pier K music school, Nieuw Vennep

It was September 2009. We had house concerts to organise, a guest from South Africa to welcome, and our own concerts to prepare for. Unlike the previous years when we changed programmes for every concert, we had stuck to one programme in 2009. We wanted to move on. We had to get it recorded.

We decided to go for the sure thing. Hire a studio for recording.

Immediately after the house concerts, we went to the newly built Centrum XXI in Utrecht to record ourselves. We were surprised to find various percussion instruments cluttered around the Bechstein grand.

Big hall of Centrum XXI in Utrecht

We had given a concert in this hall at the Utrecht Uitfeest in mid-September 2009. Our contemporary music programme “Pull, pluck, strum, bang!” worked well in such a new building. Actually the building was not even officially opened then. Ironically, the previous day we had played our traditional programme (what is on our first CD) in a 600-year old building in Utrecht as part of the Open Monument Day celebrations throughout the Netherlands.

For a week, we dedicated ourselves to recording, listening, and re-recording Vivaldi, Hummel, Giuliani, Torroba, and Rodrigo. We agreed that Robert would edit the recording and I would work on the text.

In mid-October, while I was in Italy, Robert listened to the recordings. Naively I had expected our CD to be ready by the time I returned in November. Even after I got back from Helsinki, it was still not ready. Surely it would be ready by Christmas. No, it wasn’t. Not New Years either.

By Chinese New Year in mid-February 2010, I was getting very impatient. I set a final deadline. It has to be ready by the time we leave for Taiwan where a big family reunion awaits in less than two weeks.

Below, Robert plays Asturias after a long recording day at Centrum XXI in Utrecht.

Improvising piano guitar in Belgium

Live music performance can get everyone’s attention and even unify a group. It can also give rise to meaningful conversation afterwards.

At the opening of the new exhibition at Artonivo Art Centre in Brugge, Belgium on 26th February 2010, I told the invited guests about the Creative Encounters in Crete experience.

Anne Ku introduces the experience of Creative Encounter in Crete, photo: Liz Miller

Afterwards I played something I wrote a few years ago on the electric piano, explaining the kind of conversation that could take place between two strangers, hence the title “Encounter” or “Ontmoeting” in Dutch.

Where was the guitarist? I didn’t want to play another piano solo. I am too used to playing duo these days.

“Robert?”

“Yes?” I heard a voice from the back.

“Are you there? Are you ready?”

Robert Bekkers joins Anne Ku on stage in Belgium, photo: Liz Miller

“Ah! You blew my cover,” he said as he walked on stage. He thought I was going to play another piece.

Now, I can’t remember if we played our arrangement of Winter from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Or if we ended with an improvisation. Nothing was recorded. But I do remember the reaction of the audience.

We had talked about improvising many times. But it was the first time we improvised before an audience. The concept of improvisation is simple: you have a conversation through music. You don’t know a priori what to expect. You just have to go with the flow.

Unlike jazz improvisation where chord progressions do matter, contemporary “art music” improvisation is about gesture and communication. You don’t need perfect pitch to play the right notes. The notes don’t matter. Without the constraints of melody and harmony, we’re free to explore other territories of rhythm, dynamics, and self-expression.

The audience watching Robert Bekkers and Anne Ku at Artonivo, photo: Liz Miller

The next day we met with Liz Miller, the photographer whose polaroid exhibition is currently on display in our monument house in Utrecht. “What did you think of our performance?” I asked.

“I love the improv!” She was sure everyone else loved it — more than my composition or the Vivaldi.

“But we didn’t even practise for it. And I’m not sure we will be able to repeat the same improvisation again,” I said.

“That’s precisely why it works well here,” she said. “We were the only ones to have seen that improv.”

Notice the word “seen” not “heard.” An improvisation has to be seen, for it’s about gestures and expression.

No live performance is ever the same. We can play the same piece over and over again. Each time it will be different. However, no improvisation can ever be repeated.

Live music cannot be captured in a bottle or caged in a glass container for all to see, like the items Liz collected from Crete (below).

Display by Liz Miller at Artonivo Art Centre, Brugges Belgium, photo: Liz Miller

It can be recorded. But it will never be live.

Reviving the Grand Potpourri National

A few years ago we came across the sheet music for the Grand Potpourri National originally written for piano and guitar in 1818. It was a joint collaboration between the great virtuosos of the day: pianist Johann Nepomuk Hummel and guitarist Mauro Giuliani.

A student of Mozart, Hummel was perhaps the most expensive piano teacher at the time, with students such as Mendelssohn and Heller. Hummel toured as a concert pianist and was even more famous than Mozart. Giuliani swept Vienna off its feet when he arrived from Italy. He befriended Beethoven. That circle of composer/performer musicians played in the Dukaten Concert Series in Vienna.

The Grand Potpourri National is not a short piece — requiring nearly 30 minutes of playtime. Just the piano score alone spans 31 pages! It is full of virtuosic passages such as the double octaves in the piano part (below).

Grand Potpourri National piano octaves

When we first discovered the sheet music online, we didn’t understand why anyone would want to hear the national anthems in 1818. For one, we only recognised three. Second, the piece was so long that it would take ages just to learn it. We abandoned it in favour of the shorter Potpourri on famous opera themes by Hummel which took just 10 minutes (and have recorded it in our first CD).

Last year we took a second look at the Grand Potpourri National. Upon closer inspection we noticed that it was extremely interesting to play and “gripping” to listen to.

We invited the musicologist and composer Rolf Straver to research it for us. We had many questions, such as

1. What do the texts on the cover of the score mean? (below)
2. What were the Dukaten Concerts at the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna? The entry ticket was one ducat for a series of 6 concerts. How much is that worth today? Was it open to everyone?
3. On which occasion was the Grand Potpourri National performed? Since it was a medley of national anthems, could it have been a concert for diplomats and ambassadors?
4. Has this work ever been recorded?
5. How did the two musicians compose this piece? Was this common practice, i.e. to collaborate on a composition?
6. What are the names of the other national anthems?

Grand Potpourri National sheet music cover

Rolf visited us the evening of Friday 12th March 2010. We played the piece for him and asked for feedback. Was it interesting? “Yes!” he replied. He was not bored for a single second. The transitions from piece to piece via modulations and cadenzas were very exciting.

As a guitarist, he observed that the guitar part was extremely difficult. Instead of using a “terz guitar” which is smaller than normal guitars, the guitarist uses a capo on the third fret. There are many high notes which require playing on the body of the guitar — not an easy task.

Rolf also noticed that the dynamics were written for the softer instruments of the early 19th century. The grand piano is much louder today. I get the hint. Crank down the dynamics for the piano a notch or two.

The next day when we were preparing for a test recording, Robert started playing the last movement of the potpourri. I don’t know the name of this anthem. But it sounds and feels like a theme from the movie “Pirates of the Caribbean.” And that’s what I call it.

Grand Potpourri National guitar part

Rolf Straver will research and introduce this work at our next house concert in Utrecht on 17th April 2010. Hopefully the mystery of the remaining anthems will be revealed.

Mozart Eine Kleine Nachtmusik for piano guitar

A little night music.

It feels good to say “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” or “Een Kleine Nacht Muziek” in Dutch. There’s a certain rhyme to it. But its original name was “Serenade No. 13 for Strings” or “A Little Serenade.”

When Robert Bekkers first arranged it for our duo, we played it everywhere and then forgot about it. His guitar student Onno de Haan had made a video recording of our concert in Warmond in the Netherlands in November 2008. How such a gem got lost can be explained by our always looking forward to the next concert, the next piece, and not having much time to review what we’ve done and what’s worth keeping.

A long time ago, I played a piano duet (one piano, 4 hand) version of the “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” at a talent contest one summer at Oxford. We won a bottle of champagne and drank it at our next bridge game at New College. I found my piano duet and bridge partner recently online. Hopefully these video clips will evoke some memories of our duet.

Perhaps this will also give ideas to re-arranging string quartets for piano and guitar. I have heard some beautiful string quartets by Jacob TV. Any other ideas?

There are free scores available online but not for piano and guitar.

Brautigam premieres new piano concerto of Jacob TV

On 5th March 2010, we missed the pre-concert talk due to an unexpected hiccup but fortunately arrived in time for a special programme of Friday at the Vredenburg. As I write this, I’m delighted to discover that the entire concert can be heard online. After the Dutch news, you’ll hear a string quartet and an interview before the concert begins.

What drew us to brave the rain and queue in the cold outdoors for our tickets on this busy, dark wintry (not quite spring) night was the new piano concerto of Jacob ter Veldhuis. I first saw his “Body of Your Dreams” performed at a music festival in Italy. This virtuoso piece was very exciting to watch and has become popular with pianists as a contemporary choice in their final exam recitals.

The evening concert began with a large male acapella choir singing Ton de Leeuw’s Cloudy Forms. de Leeuw (1926 – 1996) is famous in the Netherlands for his definitive book on 20th century music, required reading at Dutch conservatories. After this, the choir continued to more tonal works of another Dutch composer Alphons Diepenbrock (1862 – 1921). By now, I was anxious to hear the sound of piano and orchestra.

When Dutch pianist Ronald Brautigam walked on stage, it felt as though a maestro had arrived. His uncut, loose, and not quite straight or curly hair in vivid white was unmissable. Famous for his interpretation of the complete sonata cycles of Mozart and Beethoven on fortepiano and a sought-after soloist for many orchestras, Brautigam had the kind of stage presence to whom any composer would gladly dedicate a piano concerto. Despite this reassurance, I was still full of curiosity and anticipation.

Ronald Brautigam, photo credit: Marco Borggeve

Jacob ter Veldhuis, also known as Jacob TV for short and especially in the USA, called his second piano concerto “Sky Falling” or rather “The Sky isn’t Falling” as a response to the credit crunch around the time of its commission in autumn 2008.

[I’ve now reached that part of the radio programme where the stage is being refitted for a grand piano, conductor podium, and the Radio Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra. I am overjoyed that I can listen online as I write this.]

The piano began with a crisp motif quickly joined by the winds. The piano was, at times, like water trickling on stones in a stream. It was constant throughout the 17 minute one movement piece, except for a moment that I’ll never forget. The orchestra stopped (somewhere around bar 45 or 48 as I learned later from viewing the score). It felt like a comma — a breathing point. But the piano did not stop there. It continued in an obvious solo. A few bars later, when you can barely recognise it, the four contrabasses enter and support the now recognisable piano solo. Then the two marimbas and timpani join in. It was beautiful. I would fast forward just to hear that section again. Rewind and hear it again.

Jacob TV’s music is definitely tonal, if not ultra tonal. There are minimalistic elements and even neoromantic. But these characteristics are not what made the piano concerto no. 2 unique. Somewhere in my mind, as I sat bewitched by the music, I uttered what I would eventually write “…a feeling of hope and optimism that we need today.” That’s how I felt when I heard it live and how I feel as I listen online now.

How does one write music that gives you hope? It’s not the same as music that makes you jolly and happy. It’s not the same as an elegy that makes you nostalgic or sentimental. You don’t linger or dwell on the past but look forward to the future.

Jacob ter Veldhuis wrote his “Sky Falling” concerto while the financial crisis was unfolding around the world.

Not quite one and a half years later, hope and optimism are what we need more than anything.

Jacob ter Veldhuis (Jacob TV), photo credit: Guido Benschop

Background information

When I learned that Jacob ter Veldhuis had written a new piano concerto for another Dutch maestro, Ronald Brautigam, to be premiered in Utrecht, I just had to see it. I had seen Brautigam interpret Beethoven’s piano sonatas on fortepiano in the Vredenburg (the biggest concert hall in Utrecht) before it shut down for renovation. The red box (as we call it) of the temporary concert hall of Vredenburg has nearly become permanent as we local residents wait for the new Music Palace whose end is not yet in sight.

Jacob ter Veldhuis had coached me on my Elegy when he was composer-in-residence at Utrecht Conservatory (2007-2008). On the first day, he introduced himself, beginning with “I am a full time composer.” Somehow those words inspired me so greatly that I wanted to hear his works and eventually play them.

Following twitter followers

I finally found a pocket of time today to check out the followers of my twitter account BLOGMAIDEN. While Robert is working with our sound engineer on the final mastering of our first CD downstairs, I am discovering interesting people with interesting ideas and music to share.

When I opened Joseph Akins’ website, I was greeted with the most lovely piano music I’ve not heard in a long time. It’s new and refreshing and original. I surfed through his well-organised website to find a video clip I could put in this blog. I am sure it exists somewhere. His audio samples relaxed me as I browsed other twitterers’ profiles and links.

Joseph Akins is a composer, pianist, keyboardist, and producer. I’m not surprised. Musicians are multi-faceted. No one is just a pianist. I’m sure that my fellow musicians have portfolio careers as I have. We perform. We compose. We organise concerts. We write reviews. We teach.

Another pianist who followed me on twitter is Paul Kenyon. The samples of his performances of music of Haydn, Schumann, and Debussy are crisp and clear. Having had Joseph’s music continuously streaming in the first hour, I wished that Paul’s music could accompany me in the next hour. But it wasn’t set up that way.

The above are just two examples of two very different kinds of pianists. I discovered that this blog of our piano guitar duo also attracts guitarists.

The website of Simon Powis welcomes me to a world of classical guitar. He had contacted me back in September 2009 about my sight reading thesis (which I wrote for my piano teaching diploma) for he was working on his doctoral thesis on the very subject, but for guitar. I see from his calendar that he is finishing soon and will pass through the UK before returning to Australia. Maybe I will finally get to meet him, if our trip to London in the first half of August pans out.

Once upon a time, I had to know what I was looking for. Use a search engine with the right keywords, cross my fingers, and hope to find what I was looking for. Now, interesting people find me, giving me new ideas and new insight into the world of music. I don’t know how they find me on twitter. Their websites are professional. Their music mesmerising. Their blogs, well-written and food for thought.

Before I go down stairs to reclaim my space for practising the piano, I must mention the blogs of clarinetist David Thomas. His is the kind I want to read and leave my comments. Dare I also reveal that I long to play Schumann’s Fantasiestücke Op. 73 with a clarinet player. My Romanian bassoonist friend had introduced it to me. I loved it so much that I transcribed it to play with French horn. Later I tried it with cello, but never clarinet. At least not yet.

Twitter

Essential shortcuts in Sibelius

The Sibelius music notation software is one of several tools that arrangers and composers use nowadays. I had the pleasure of visiting the global IT department of Sibelius in London and meeting its director several years ago. There is a big divide between users of Sibelius and its immediate rival Finale. Users of one software stick to it. Rarely are there users of both. Some attribute this tendency to the steep learning curve and its various intricacies.

I have always used Sibelius to input notes, transpose and arrange music, make changes, and compose. When I was actively using it during my four years at conservatory, I knew the shortcuts by heart. Since graduating in 2008, I’ve been busy not composing. As a result, I’ve forgotten how essential it is to know the shortcuts.

Hence this blog — so I won’t forget the shortcuts next time I get distracted by the buzz of practising the piano for hours on end or get overwhelmed by audience development in the concerts I produce. The following shortcuts work on Apple Mac computers. I can’t remember if they are the same on PC’s.

Single letter shortcuts:

<H>: draws a crescendo sign from the beginning to the end of the highlighted passage or just a small crescendo from the cursor if nothing is highlated

<shift><H>: draws a diminuendo sign (as above)

<I>: adds or deletes instruments in the staves

<K>: changes key signature

<L>: opens the LINE menu where you can choose horizontal lines such as trill, 8va, 8vb, etc across the highlighted passage or vertical lines such as arpeggio

<Q>: change clef

<R>: repeat whatever is highlighted. This is extremely useful, for you can repeat the previous note, chord, or passage.

<S>: slur on the highlighted notes, or the highlighted single note and the next note or chord.

<T>: change time signature

<X>: flip the highlighted slur or passage (in which case the stem gets inverted)

Non-letter or combined keystrokes:

<spacebar>: plays the music from the cursor onwards

<alt> and then click: copy whatever’s highlighted onto the area pointed/clicked at.

<apple command> and then <R>: enters a rehearsal mark on the barline highlighted (apple command is the key on the immediate left of the space bar)

<apple command> and then <up arrow>: moves the highlighted note up one octave

<apple command> and then <down arrow>: moves the highlighted note down one octave

I shall return to this blog entry to add more shortcuts and tips.

Arranging Carmen for piano and guitar

Bekkers Piano Guitar Duo, photo credit: Serge van Empelen, Amsterdam

I borrowed the Dover edition of the orchestral version for Bizet’s Carmen opera months ago. The full score looked intimidating, a reminder of the arduous score reading exercises I had to do during my years at conservatory. And so the hard-back book laid on my piano unopened until I found free sheet music of piano solo and duet transcriptions on the Internet.

Eureka! I found a short cut.

It is possible to reduce orchestral music to piano and fewer instruments. It requires a lot more imagination the other way around.

At first, I split up a quatre-main (4-hands, one piano) duet into separate parts for a single guitar and piano. Then I noticed that the piano duet left out many wonderful melodies. To do Carmen justice, I opened the orchestra score, found those beloved themes and allocated them as I saw fit.

Dutch guitarist Robert Bekkers stopped me when he saw that I was giving the exciting parts to the piano. It reminded me of my own protests when he had given himself the interesting, virtuoso passages in his arrangements of Bach’s Badinerie, Chopin’s Piano Concerto in E minor, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and the Handel’s Arrival of the Queen of Sheba for our duo.

“I can do that!” he pointed to a chromatic run. “I love scales. Better, let us do it together!”

Now that’s a challenge — to play the fast notes completely in sync with each other! We do that quite a bit in Vivaldi’s Summer from his Four Seasons. I can have the guitar play exactly what I play in the same register or an octave apart. Or we can play a third apart.

“Give me big powerful chords,” he said. He wants to show off, but so do I. We’ll just have to take turns, I decided.

Robert also gave me advice. “To be safe, don’t give the guitar more than two voices at a time.”

Bizet’s opera was set in Seville, Spain where we had visited in April 2009 for a gypsy flamenco project. I remember the flamenco rhythms and the percussive nature of such exotic music. Arranging Carmen brought back memories of that week as well as my visit to the Netherlands Opera production of Carmen at the end of the Holland Festival in Amsterdam.

Technically speaking, the piano and the guitar can replace 16 single-note instruments: 10 fingers on the piano plus 6 strings of the guitar. If we add our feet and elbows, then we can do even more. I love sound of the guitar being used as a percussive instrument. Can I do the same on the piano? Or would I need drumsticks?

What shall I call my arrangement? There are numerous Carmen Suites and Carmen Fantasies on Naxos CD Online and youtube. Mine is not a suite or a fantasy. A suite is structured — mine is a medley of various sticky tunes, and yet it’s more than a medley. A fantasy would require a lot more imagination, dedication, and virtuosity. I want it to be fun and interesting, not like some of the 19th century arrangements of popular opera themes for guitar and piano.

How about Carmen Potpourri for piano and guitar? Coincidentally when I google “Carmen Potpourri” I find our piano guitar duo website and this blog. Maybe that’s what it should be called: Carmen Potpourri for piano and guitar.