We would like to thank Chee-Hwa Tan for this insightful article on creative activities to explore with your students. Want to apply these tips with your students? We encourage your students to submit to the Piano Inspires Kids 2024 Composition Contest. Student applicants are tasked with composing a fanfare inspired by the upcoming 2024 Summer Olympics. Learn more here: https://kids.pianoinspires.com/composition-contest/.
The ability to experiment and create with our instrument is an important part of piano study. Yet I would venture that for many of us who teach, this component of piano study presents a logistical challenge as we juggle the many aspects of music study. We may feel defeated at our inability to include creative activities like ear training, improvisation, transposition, musical composition, and analysis within lesson time, experience an existential crisis at the prospect of teaching what we did not ourselves learn, or feel overwhelmed about plowing through stacks of resources purchased at a workshop. On the other hand, when we do include these activities, perhaps our student freezes like a “deer in the headlights” when asked to improvise or create. If any of these scenarios are relatable, you are in good company.
This article will explore how we can use repertoire assignments to integrate experimentation and creation into regular lessons. Repertoire study is a staple of every lesson; assigning pieces that meet performance study needs, and that also serve as inspiration for creative assignments, is a way to meet both goals in a sustainable manner. This approach can be utilized during summers, several times a year, every other month, or with alternating pieces.
I will address this topic from the following framework:
A “whole” teaching philosophy: I start with this because our teaching philosophy impacts how we motivate students and whether we prioritize time for creativity.
Repertoire selection: How to select the right kind of music to organically incorporate creative activities in your lessons, without designing a whole separate track.
Basic principles: What to do with repertoire that you assign in your lessons.
Examples: Practical applications from a selection of pieces at different levels.
A “Whole” Teaching Philosophy
Our teaching philosophy states WHY we teach and WHAT is important to us in our teaching. A teaching philosophy serves as a compass—a “priority check” for us when we feel overwhelmed by all the teaching to-dos and performance deadlines. As educators, it is good to revisit our teaching philosophy periodically to allow for personal growth and adjustments. Here, I share here my personal teaching philosophy:
I teach…
To nurture a love and understanding of music.
To create a pathway to lifelong music making at the piano, for both the hobbyist and the professional.
To equip my students with skills that will make them independent learners and to give them ownership of their music.
To pursue music making with joy, with abandon, without guilt.
So that my students will be more whole from the experience.
As teachers, we imprint a “feeling“—a feeling about the student’s identity in relationship to their music study. Long after formal lessons have ended, our students may not remember much of what they learned or even how to play what they learned, but they will remember how they felt in their lessons. This feeling will spur them to continue to pursue music in some shape or form, or this feeling will cause them to be afraid to try because they feel they are “not good enough” to meet the standards or expectations. Reviewing my teaching philosophy helps me to remember to prioritize the emotional connection with my student and the music making process and then to ask myself: What skills do I want my student to still have twenty to thirty years from now?
A lot of what we do as teachers focuses on the “what” and the “how”—specific skills for teaching repertoire and technique, materials, how to practice, style and interpretation, pedaling, theoretical knowledge—the list goes on. However, far more important than this is teaching the “why?” Do our students know the overarching purpose behind the concepts and skills that we teach them? Are they able to take what they learn in their music and apply it for their own purposes? Students who can do this are students who will make music for the rest of their lives.
Why is it important to encourage students to create?
When we create, we get ownership of our learning.
Ownership empowers.
This makes us curious to learn more.
Curiosity is motivating!
If we have not experienced this type of process ourselves, this can be intimidating. The underlying philosophy is to nurture a sense of wonder and curiosity about this amazing process we call music. From the very beginning of piano study, slow down and reinforce theory and musical concepts by helping the student discover or identify the sounds in each of the pieces they study. Then, experiment with at least one of these concepts through listening and explorative play with the student.
Why use repertoire as the basis for composition or improvisation?
Using specific pieces provides a natural structure from which to take off—a blueprint for concrete inspiration. This is common practice throughout music history.
It is less intimidating to have a few guidelines or a “track” to stay within.
Students need to learn that there is structure in creativity.
Music is all about structure—neurological studies show that our brains automatically search for aural patterns in music.
Everything has a form and structure—rhythmically, melodically, and harmonically. Entities that do not have clear form tend to lack longevity.
Chee-Hwa Tan has served as the Head of Piano Pedagogy at the University of Denver Lamont School of Music, as well as on the piano pedagogy faculties at the Oberlin Conservatory and Southern Methodist University. Ms. Tan is the author of internationally acclaimed A Child’s Garden of Verses and other piano collections. Her music is published by Piano Safari; with selections included in the Repertoire and Study series of the Royal Conservatory of Music, Canada, and the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music, London.
We would like to thank Barbara Fast and Spencer Myer for this insightful interview on practice. Want to learn more about practicing? Register for the free webinar, “#100daysofpractice: Selection and adaptation of self-regulated learning strategies in an online music performance challenge” presented by Camilla dos Santos Silva and Helena Marinho, hosted by Alejandro Cremaschi on November 29. Learn more and register here: https://pianoinspires.com/webinar/11-29-23-webinar/.
I attended Spencer Myer’s practicing workshop at the NCKP 2019 Conference. His emphasis on engaging the brain in variable practice techniques sparked my interest and supports research on how we learn. I thought I knew every possible practice suggestion, but Spencer presented and demonstrated many new and unusual ideas that he was using in practicing and teaching. I found myself using the notes I had taken for my own practicing workshops and classes, and knew I needed a concrete way to share his tips with other musicians. I interviewed Spencer Myer on February 2, 2020, as a way to share his thoughts on practicing with piano teachers throughout the world. The article is the essence of our interview together.
Barbara Fast: What prompted your interest in the topic of practicing?
Spencer Myer: I discovered the practice techniques that I’ll be discussing during the period of my life when I was entering competitions. I was practicing with the intent of complete cleanliness and solidity. I thought, “how am I going to get to the point where I can walk on stage and not be afraid of having a memory slip?” I started to explore what seemed at a time to be different, crazy, and random practice techniques.
BF: What are your foundational ideas about practicing for performance?
SM: I feel that our memory is made up of 80% muscle memory and 20% other memory. Of course, playing an instrument is physical, so muscle memory has to be part of the equation. We are all human; memory slips happen for everyone, and relying on muscle memory from hours of repetition can be an aid to get through a memory slip. But strengthening our brain, getting away from relying only on muscle memory, that other 20%, is where we find the mental solidity that we’re going for in a performance.
BF: Strengthening the brain: how does that help you go beyond muscle memory?
SM: The point about muscle memory is that studies have shown it’s impossible for our brains to multitask; we can’t think about two things at once. Removing muscle memory, taking it away in our practice, increases the brain’s involvement in our memory. The idea is how to make the passage feel different or foreign to our body so that our brain is forced to engage.
BF: What’s your first practice tip for changing physical sensation in the body?
SM: The most obvious example for changing physical sensation is slow practice. It’s a useful tool for drilling and refining minor muscle motions that we are required to use with great speed in performance. Slow practice is often viewed as a tedious or brainless exercise that our teachers tell us to do. Actually, it really engages the brain, because it deviates from the repetition we are so used to. Practicing the music in a way that feels physically different—slowly, or with inconsistent tempos—that is the key.
BF: Practicing with inconsistent tempo – that’s an unusual idea.
SM: Inconsistent tempo is something that I often utilize in practice. It’s similar to slow practice because inconsistency forces the brain to think about every next note more consciously. Changing tempo also allows us to practice in a much more improvisatory way. It’s much more fun and propels exploration of phrasing and musical intent, which further engages the brain.
BF: Do you also use alternating rhythm practice?
SM: Alternating rhythms is something we tell our students to do and it can often be mindless. But, I think it’s a great exercise for the brain because it’s a huge changeup. For me it works best with challenging sections, such as scales and arpeggios in the repertoire. The basic idea is utilizing dotted rhythms, and their reverse, in place of even rhythms. Triplets and groups of four notes can also be performed, with length added to any chosen note of each group. These alternating rhythms can be random or much more regular. But again, it’s the extreme change in physicality that engages our brain that is important.
Barbara Fast is Piano Chair and Director of Piano Pedagogy, coordinates the group piano program and teaches graduate piano pedagogy at the University of Oklahoma. An active workshop clinician, she co-founded the Group Piano/Piano Pedagogy (GP3) Forum. She is the co-author of iPractice: Technology in the 21st Century Music Practice Room.
Quer saber mais sobre dedilhado? Inscreva-se no nosso webinar internacional gratuito, “ A dedilhação como elemento de expressividade na performance pianística” apresentado por Luis Pipa no dia 4 de novembro. Saiba mais e inscreva-se aqui: https://pianoinspires.com/webinar/11-04-23-webinar/.
The following contribution from Bruce Berr appeared in an article edited by Richard Chronister titled “How Do You Teach Students to Plan Fingering” from Keyboard Companion, Spring 1995, Vol. 6, No. 1. The entire article is found here: https://pianoinspires.com/article/how-do-you-teach-students-to-plan-fingering/.
The teacher must consider the skills that the student has already mastered…
The most important fingering idea that beginners must learn is that five fingers fit conveniently over five adjacent keys. This basic “prime directive” of fingering provides the rule while students begin to experience elaborations on this principle. A crossover is usually the first kind of shift that might make the student think that the five-finger idea is no longer operative. I teach students to feel a crossover not as a finger reaching for a key but rather as a smooth rollover from one five-finger position to a different one; it is important that the entire hand move into place as the crossover happens. An effective way to guarantee this is to have the student insert a practice pause while holding the crossover note. This allows the hand to comfortably feel a new five-finger position before playing is resumed:
What is temporarily sacrificed by this rhythmic interruption is more than compensated for by a fluid, relaxed motion. When students first do crossovers, I’m pleased when the music has the finger cue written in for the crossover note and for the note that immediately follows it so that the idea of having moved into a new five-finger position is communicated. I also hope that there are no more finger numbers written in if all of the notes in that phrase already fall comfortably under the fingers because those would be unnecessary and therefore detrimental. Only essential finger cues should be in the student’s music; if extraneous ones are allowed to remain, students eventually learn to ignore all fingerings, even the good ones.
Which fingerings should remain in the score becomes more complex at the mid- and late-elementary levels. As teachers of this music, we must constantly “read between the lines” to interpret what is meant and what is not meant by a given fingering. I frequently struggle with this problem as a composer and arranger of educational piano music, due to an unavoidable fact: all fingering cues imply a certain approach to technique and teaching. Therefore, an educational author has at least three possible choices: 1. Indicate fingerings that represent the easiest possible physical approach; or 2. Indicate fingerings that represent the easiest possible conceptual approach; or 3. Indicate no fingerings at all.
When (1) and (2) are the same fingering there is no problem, but frequently they are not the same, so a choice must be made. Any fingering that a composer or editor indicates tends to unwittingly favor one approach over another. For example, in this elementary excerpt from Eency, Weency Spider, the student gets to play a fun, short chromatic fragment in a piece that is predominantly in five-finger positions elsewhere. The printed fingerings are the easiest from a conceptual standpoint, because the keys are next to each other and so are the fingers that play them; this is an important idea to reinforce at this level. The given fingering also encourages the student’s hand to, well, “walk like a spider”!
“Eency, Weency Spider” from Animal Songs
I also considered the following fingering: 1-3-1-3-1-3-1. This fingering is better from a physical standpoint because it invites greater participation of the entire hand and forearm in rotating, and thus it produces a freer and more balanced gesture. However, this fingering contradicts our “prime directive” by using non-adjacent fingers on keys that are as adjacent to each other as can be; thus, it may set back our work with students who have needed reminding about fingering in five-finger positions. I could have also indicated no fingering at all in this passage. This would make it convenient for each teacher to use his or her own fingering without having to leave behind a trail of blackened splotches on the page. If a child were learning this piece without the benefit and guidance of a teacher, however, an absence of fingering hints might breed all kinds of indecent fingerings not fit to print here!
Thus, for a teacher to make best use of whatever fingerings do appear printed in educational music, the teacher must interpret each fingering to ascertain its benefits and disadvantages, and must consider the skills that the student has already mastered or not mastered. Only then can an assessment be made whether a particular student will benefit from the given fingering, or whether a different one would be more suitable. In the above passage, if a student has been playing comfortably in five-finger positions, replacing the 2s with 3s would allow that student to experience a new fingering principle. For students who still look at their hands while playing in five-finger positions, however, this indicates a lack of fluency in reading and playing within five-finger positions; thus, the original, safer-feeling fingering would be better.
In celebration of Dr. James Lyke and his life, the Frances Clark Center is pleased to share an excerpted interview written by Ronald Chioldi and published in the May 2009 issue of Clavier Companion (Vol. 1, No. 3). Click here to read the full interview.
Jim Lyke, Geoff Haydon, Tony Caramia, and Reid Alexander at the MTNA National Conference in Denver; Colorado, in 2008.
An Interview with James Lyke
When I attended Jim Lyke’s piano pedagogy classes in 1990 at the University of Illinois his reputation as a leader in the field of group piano and pedagogy was well established, but I somehow didn’t quite understand and appreciate the importance of this energetic, restless man. Always focused on the next big project, this unassuming professor consistently displayed warmth and consideration for his students.
Yet, it is only through time, as I am now in the middle of my career, that I have come to realize the enormity of his contributions to the field of piano pedagogy — accomplishments that include a legacy of prominent students, the establishment of The National Conference on Piano Pedagogy, well-known classroom and duet publications, and his four decades of leadership, stewardship, and tireless devotion to group piano teaching and piano pedagogy.
At the age of 75 and with the 30th anniversary of The National Conference on Piano Pedagogy around the corner, Jim Lyke’s life has come full circle. I recently sat down with him in his New York City apartment to reflect on a remarkable career.
James Lyke through the years.
Honoring James Lyke
Co-founder of the National Conference on Piano Pedagogy
The 2009 NCKP honors James Lyke with its Lifetime Achievement Award. Thirty years ago he co-founded the National Conference on Piano Pedagogy in collaboration with Richard Chronister. Dr. Lyke’s career is intimately associated with the University of Illinois where he taught from 1959 to 1993. At Illinois he was chair of the Group Piano and Piano Pedagogy Division, and under his leadership the MM degree in piano pedagogy and the Piano Laboratory Program for children were established. In 1993, Dr. Lyke accepted a position at Georgia State University where he was appointed Director of Graduate Studies for the School of Music and was coordinator of the piano pedagogy program. He is well-known for his book Creative Piano Teaching and his texts for group piano instruction, Keyboard Musicianship, Keyboard Fundamentals, and Ensemble Music for Group Piano.
The National Conference on Keyboard Pedagogy Lifetime Achievement Award is presented on behalf of the Frances Clark Center to an individual who has made substantial and enduring contributions to the field of piano pedagogy over a lifelong career. It was awarded to Nelita True in 2005, and posthumously to Richard Chronister in 2001. In 2009, it will be awarded to James Lyke. Between 1979 and 1994, the National Conference on Piano Pedagogy recognized Louise Bianchi, Frances Clark, Guy Duckworth, William Gillock, Marguerite Miller, Lynn Freeman Olson, and Robert Pace with Lifetime Achievement Awards.
Jim Lyke with Richard Chronister at the 1980 National Conference on Piano Pedagogy at The University of Illinois.
The interview
Tell me about your formative years. How did music make its way into your life?
I started piano and drum lessons at the age of 9 in the small town of Newark Valley, New York. Later, I played piano in the orchestra and percussion in the band. I also sang in the chorus and even had a brief stint as a “boy soprano,” my big hit being Schubert’s Ave Maria. In the middle of my junior year we moved to Elmira, New York — a big city compared to Newark Valley! Again I was in the band, chorus, and orchestra and even played percussion in the Elmira Symphony. In Elmira I had an excellent piano teacher by the name of Mildred Schoemaker who was coaching with a teacher at the Eastman School of Music.
Betty Henry was another central person at this time in my life. She was an inspiring choral director who trained at Fredonia State Teachers College, now SUNY Fredonia. She always let me practice on a fine Steinway grand in the auditorium after school hours. On the weekends I played piano in a dance band at the YMCA and adored the music by Cole Porter, Richard Rodgers, and others. After graduating from high school I followed in my choral teacher’s footsteps and attended Fredonia. The piano instruction was excellent, but I thought I would eventually teach choir or band in the public schools. At Fredonia I became very interested in theater and was active in the drama club. It was the best start in life anybody could ever have.
What happened after undergraduate school?
After graduation I volunteered for the draft, as the Korean War was raging. After basic training I was luckily “tagged” to go to Alaska with a music-loving chaplain. He wanted a trained musician to go with him to Alaska, so I spent my army years directing choirs at the Post Chapel and working with children in the Sunday school program. There were many wonderful musicians on the base and we performed works like Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors and toured a USO production of Brigadoon. I also played with a dance band on the base, performing at the officer’s club every weekend and in clubs in Anchorage. After I was discharged I took a job with the Fort Richardson Schools (Alaska), saving money to attend graduate school. I taught kindergarten through the eighth grade — classroom music, general music, chorus, and band. On weekends I was still directing choirs at the post chapel and playing in dance bands. I also joined the Anchorage Community Chorus and participated in Robert Shaw Festivals for two summers. He was a stunning musician.
I know that Robert Pace has been an important person in your life. Can you tell me about Columbia University and Robert Pace?
After four years in Alaska I came back to New York and entered the Teachers College of Columbia University, thinking I’d probably wind up being a choral director. One of the first people I encountered was Robert Pace, and I took several of his pedagogy courses. Observing his work with children in groups was a revelation to me. These children not only played pieces wonderfully, but also were interacting with one another and actually learning how music was put together. They were phenomenal. These youngsters took dictation, improvised, sight-read, harmonized melodies, etc. I was bowled over and thought, “This is the way to teach! I can do this!” I finally knew what I wanted to devote my life to — group teaching and piano pedagogy. It was the unification of so many musical elements that impressed me. Robert Pace changed my life.
The late 1950s was a marvelous time to be at Teachers College with Dr. Pace. Class piano teaching jobs were beginning to open up at colleges and universities all over the country, and directors of music schools were hiring well-trained group piano teachers. Dr. Pace was “the” person to study with. He was a real pioneer.
The University of Illinois Group Piano Faculty c. 1970. From left to right: Jim Lyke, Gail Berenson, Jean Marshall, and Carole Lesniak.
When did you find your way to the University of Illinois?
It was 1959 and I was hired right out of a master’s program at the age of 26. I had a wonderful director, Duane Branigan, who said to me, “Jim, this is a good place to grow, I want you to develop a group piano program the way you think it should be done.” So gradually I developed a four-semester sequence of piano classes for music majors, a two-semester course for non-music majors, an advanced group class for piano majors, a two-semester sequence in jazz piano, two piano pedagogy courses for undergraduates, and two piano pedagogy courses for graduate students. I taught pedagogy courses in the sixties and seventies and around 1980 another movement was happening, which was the piano pedagogy degree. I thought, “Illinois must have this,” so I developed an MM in Piano Pedagogy and incorporated the classes into the degree. I also established a teacher-training component of the degree, which consisted of youngsters from the community taking lessons from our piano pedagogy majors. Incidentally, out of the curriculum in the group piano and the pedagogy classes came the idea to develop texts. My first edition of Keyboard Musicianship, Books 1 and 2, was published in 1969 and a pedagogy text, Creative Piano Teaching, followed in 1977. Happily, they are still on the market in revised editions. I also published a text for adult beginners called Keyboard Fundamentals.
At our peak at the University of Illinois, we had four full-time Group Piano and Piano Pedagogy faculty and five graduate assistants. Our school had developed a good reputation in teacher training, and the graduate assistants we trained went on to achieve phenomenal things in universities and successful studios across the country.
You have mentored and taught some of today’s leaders in the field of group piano and piano pedagogy. Could you discuss some of these people?
I had terrific students at Illinois, including E.L. Lancaster, Robert Vandall, Reid Alexander, and Ron Elliston. I also hired wonderful faculty members such as Gail Berenson and Tony Caramia. Gail was fresh out of Northwestern and is, of course, now the president of MTNA. I found Tony Caramia in Fredonia, New York, of all places, as I was doing a workshop. I instigated the hiring of him at the University of Illinois in 1975 and I just knew Tony would do great things in the field. It was sad to lose him to Eastman, because he and I had a wonderful fifteen-year piano partnership as duettists and as a two-piano team. Reid Alexander was a student of mine and I eventually hired him to be a part of the pedagogy faculty. Reid took over the Piano Pedagogy program at the University of Illinois and is a prolific publisher and presenter. It is a thrill going to MTNA conventions and seeing how great my former students are doing.
Standing, left to right: Jim Lyke, Richard Chronister; Elvina Truman Pearce, Marienne Uszler, Tyler Tom. Seated: Martha Hilley, Stewart Gordon.
People who know you know how supportive you are of your students and colleagues. You also have the ability to notice talents in people that they may not notice in themselves. Where do these qualities come from?
Being supportive of my students was easy. I was just crazy about the students. They were everything to me and I always considered them to be the best thing about teaching in a university. I felt that it was my duty to help them find good positions after graduation, and I was always friendly with them throughout their studies. Some faculty members believe you shouldn’t get too close to your students. I don’t agree with that thinking.
It’s difficult to explain the other quality. I guess I am good at telling people what they should do! Seriously, I think some people don’t realize what they have in them. For example, when Tony Caramia came to Illinois I knew right away, “this guy’s going to really hit it big.” It was fun to be a part of that and I introduced him to workshop opportunities. I should mention that I spent 33 wonderful years at the University of Illinois.
At the age of 60 I took an early retirement and accepted a professorship at Georgia State University in Atlanta. It was a new challenge and a chance to start all over again. There I met Geoff Haydon. Here’s another guy, I thought, “he’s so talented, he doesn’t even know what he has.” He is a multi-talented person — a classical and jazz pianist, and a whiz at technology. At my urging he started arranging and composing, and we teamed up on many publications of two-piano and duet material for Warner Bros. Music and did a number of workshops in Europe and in the United States.
Read the complete interview, “Reflections on A Remarkable Career” from Clavier Companion (May 2009), using the link below!
In the Summer 2023 Piano Magazine issue, Fernanda Nieto posed a question about mindfulness in the piano studio: how do we help our students deal with the stresses in piano lessons but also in everyday life? Enjoy this excerpt from her article, and consider how you can help your students manage the many stresses in their lives. Read the full article at https://pianoinspires.com/article/mindfulness-in-the-piano-lesson-where-do-we-start/.
“Young people today are experiencing increasing levels of stress and anxiety, and piano students are not immune to this reality. At all levels, students rely on us for quality piano instruction, emotional support, mentorship, and guidance. What tools can we utilize during lessons to enhance our students’ well-being and emotional health? How can we incorporate these practices without compromising time management and our teaching goals?
While mindfulness can be helpful at any point during our lessons, one approach is to keep its practice consistent within the lesson structure. By practicing breathing exercises at the start of our lessons, we give our minds an opportunity to leave distractions behind. After I welcome my students, I often ask, “How would you like to breathe today?” Utilizing visual aids, I demonstrate a couple of options so that they can see these exercises in action. Modeling breathing and practicing it with my students allows them to feel comfortable with mindfulness. It also gives both of us the opportunity to ease into a calmer lesson environment.”
We are pleased to share this conversation with Olga Kern about her vibrant career and mission as a musician, written by Sara Ernst. This conversation originally appeared in the Summer 2023 issue of Piano Magazine. If you would like to explore other articles from Piano Magazine, please subscribe now for only $7.99/mo or $36/yr.
Olga Kern
Concert pianist Olga Kern has been a regular presence on the international stage since her winning of the Eleventh Cliburn International Piano Competition in 2001,1 and she will be welcomed as concert artist at NCKP: The Piano Conference on July 26–29, 2023, in Lombard, Illinois. Artistic intensity, passionate expression, and technical prowess pervade her playing. At the Cliburn, this resulted in multiple standing ovations and an affect tagged “Olgamania” by newspapers in Dallas/Fort Worth. Her jubilant acceptance of this award followed four intense rounds of competition, which featured her memorable performances of the Brahms Variations on a Theme by Paganini, Barber Sonata for Piano, and Rachmaninoff Concerto No. 3.
In the two decades since her catapult into the highest strata of the profession, Kern has navigated a rigorous schedule, maintaining a fervent commitment to concertizing. When I had the pleasure of speaking with Kern in a phone interview on November 22, 2022, she expressed her gratitude in being a pianist: “It’s a pure joy. Every time I’m on stage, it just gives me happiness. When I finish, I know that I shared what I love so much. They [the audience] have the same response; they are so enthusiastic, they’re so happy. I’m so lucky to have this profession; I love it.”
A notable feature of Kern’s performances is her immediate engagement with the audience—her sparkling eyes meet the crowd as she greets them with an infectious smile. It is remarkable how this effusive energy reached me through the phone. She projects herself as an individual who has found a powerful purpose in her vocation, and this gives her a boundless zeal, determination, and optimism in the future. When I asked her about this disposition, she expressed a more sanguine approach to life as a musician:
Being an artist and musician, there are always doubts about everything—it’s normal for all of us. While we have these jobs, we are growing and learning how we can do better, all of our lives. We need to stay positive. Life is very difficult, especially knowing what’s happening right now in the world…I want to express myself through music in a way that is always a positive experience. Because the audience—either listening to me or talking to me afterwards—needs to feel a good energy.
Furthermore, she shared her deeply held belief in the power of music to heal. Kern explained to me how she was inspired by a pianist in the Cliburn International Amateur Competition who was fighting a rare disease and how he used music to delay the progress of the disease. She also described correspondence from a faithful audience member who declared the healing effects of her performances. Kern furthered her philosophical statement: “This is what music does, it heals our souls…I understand how important and how positive music actually is for all of us, and that’s why it just feels natural to be positive.”
It is probably not surprising to music lovers, but truly remarkable how her energy continues to be drawn from the artform itself. She admitted to me that her demanding schedule is sustained by her love of playing: “When I’m just spending time with my instrument by myself, that’s my happiest time.” She furthered this by stating her focus is purely expressive, which I believe is a product of her engrained technical command. Kern said, “It is so natural somehow, for me, that I am not thinking about difficulties anymore. I think about ideas, what I want to achieve with the whole thing, as an interpretation.” It begs the question of how she became such a masterful pianist. Her response was surprisingly simple, that her passion for the instrument “explains everything.” Certainly, this is not to underestimate the decades devoted to growth and practice. It is clear what fuels Kern, and piano is intertwined with her identity: “I was at the piano, mostly all my life. How I remember myself was at the piano, from five years old.”
While Olga Kern has Russian heritage, she also has become a US citizen, residing currently in New York City. In 2017, she received the Ellis Island Medal of Honor, which celebrates Americans, naturalized and native-born, “who are selflessly working for the betterment of our country.”2 Recipients include past presidents, religious figures, business leaders, and Nobel Prize laureates. Kern attended the ceremony, which featured fireworks next to the Statue of Liberty, on the arm of her son Vladislav. Upon receipt of this commendation, she wrote: “The U.S.A. is my beloved adopted country and I will continue to make this country proud!”3 With last year’s outbreak of the war in Ukraine with Russia, Kern released a statement denouncing war:
As a classical music pianist and artist, I embrace beauty. I seek to share with audiences the powerful emotions that make music so magical, and I try to make people feel that beauty and be part of it…Such a mindset is entirely incompatible with any form of aggression or violence. And even more so with the horrors of war…. It’s heartbreaking to witness the tragedy that is unfolding before our very eyes in Ukraine. It’s ugly and brutal beyond words…Please stop this madness! Please say NO to war!4
Her eloquent appeal also reflects the precarious situation of Russians, many of whom, like her, have strong ties to Ukraine—the world is witnessing a war at the hands of a dangerous dictator who shows little signs of yielding.
Kern was born in Russia under the name of Pushechnikova into a profoundly musical household. Her mother, father, and brother all played piano—her mother a piano teacher and father a pianist in the Bolshoi Theater Orchestra. Her grandfather was a prominent professor of oboe at the Gnessin School of Music.5 Her great-grandmother was an opera singer at the Kharkiv Opera and had the honor of singing with Rachmaninoff at the piano. Kern’s musical lineage extends deeper: her great-great grandmother was also a music teacher and friend of Tchaikovsky, which is documented through letters and photographs. In the documentary that showcases the 2001 Cliburn Competition,6 Kern shares her grandmother’s first edition of Rachmaninoff’s third concerto she was soon to perform. The camera captures a touching moment of tender pride, as she carefully pages through this timeworn, but prized possession.
As a young pianist, Kern heard two remarkable recitals in Moscow: Vladmir Horowitz in the historically significant 1986 concert, and Sviatoslav Richter in one of his impromptu, candlelight recitals. She formerly described these two experiences:
“I will never forget [Horowitz’s] concert. That sound range, what he was doing with that piano… what the gradations were, what the colors were. I’ll never forget the fortissimo he made; it was so warm and nice. It was just all over each of us, and it was a full hall; people were just hanging out of the balcony…[Richter] played the Brahms Paganini Variations. When he started I thought that my hair was blown, just like a huge hurricane came and made everyone suddenly alive. That kind of sound, incredible sensibility, and ability to do anything on the piano. Those geniuses for me were really inspiring.”7
Her mother, who initially encouraged her study of Russian ballet, was her first piano teacher; Kern exclaimed that from two or three years old, she knew that piano (not ballet!) was her life’s calling.8 At the Central Music School in Moscow, young Olga studied with highly regarded pedagogue Evgeny Timakin, known for his exercises that develop a comprehensive technical foundation. Her later training was with Sergei Dorensky at the Moscow Conservatory and Boris Petrushansky in Imola, Italy.
Kern’s first win in the competition circuit was at age 11, followed by the Rachmaninoff International Piano Competition at age 17; in total, she placed in the top rankings at more than ten competitions. In the Cliburn Competition of 1997, Kern appeared as Olga Pushechnikova, although she did not advance past the preliminary round. In our interview, Kern reflected on the importance of competing, especially the motivation found with undesirable results. One can only imagine that she draws upon her own experience when she encourages her students:
They need to compete, and it’s not always the right result for them. I always tell them not to be depressed, just to go forward and learn. It’s that attitude—you are actually getting stronger. From that experience, they know what they can do better. It’s just part of your life, and without bumps, you will not get higher and better. If everything will be perfect, then there will be no stimulation to do better. You need to really go down sometimes to feel that: No, I want to do something so special that people will hear about me, I am that talented, and that’s how much I love music. These moments, they’re actually great… they’re the super exciting moments in your life.
In the years between Cliburn appearances, life changed for the newly named Olga Kern (using her mother’s maiden name), now with son Vladislav; her toddler remained in Russia in the loving care of her parents while she travelled to Texas, to return with a gold medal in hand.
Kern’s career continues to be filled with an intense schedule of performances and appearances. As many women musicians have faced, performing reviews include discussion of her appearance, attire and beauty, with one writer even making an astoundingly shocking conclusion that her pianistic ability makes gender “irrelevant.”9 Nevertheless, Kern proceeds with lighthearted grace and personal style, deflecting questions about gender back to the artform and by collaborating with fashion designers to craft her wardrobe. In 2016, she reflected, “Whilst I was at the school and the conservatory, it was not about being a man or a woman that fed my love for the instrument… If you love what you do, everything is equal.”10 She then quipped that the only difficulty results from the performance gowns: “But being a woman concert pianist comes with its own challenges. My suitcase is heavier and bigger than that of any man in my job.”
Today, her career is multi-faceted and includes teacher, collaborator, adjudicator, director, and philanthropist. In 2016, she became the Artistic Director of the triennial Olga Kern International Piano Competition in New Mexico, in 2017 she joined the piano faculty at the Manhattan School of Music, and in 2019 she began directing chamber music for the Virginia Arts Festival. Her artistic collaborations have included concerts with conductor Leonard Slatkin and singer Renée Fleming. Her most recent CD release, in 2022, was of the Brahms and Shostakovich quintets with the Dalí quartet. More performances are planned with this string quartet, including the quintet by Rachmaninoff’s teacher Sergei Taneyev. Additionally in 2023, Kern will undertake the Herculean task of performing Rachmaninoff’s four piano concerti and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. She will perform all five works in two evenings at many venues, a project she initially tackled in South Africa with her brother Vladimir as conductor. She was inspired to revisit this as a celebration of Rachmaninoff, 150 years since his birth and eighty since his death.
She has acknowledged in the past how it was initially difficult to find the ideal balance in her life between performing, traveling, and her family. Reflecting on her post-Cliburn engagements, she summarized:
If you don’t have the balance, this busy travel and concert life can really wear you out very quickly…[After Cliburn,] I was just teaching myself and learning how I can do it correctly. I must say it took me a couple of years…It was hard [but] right now, it’s so much easier for me. People around me saying, “Wow, you’re so organized! You know exactly what hour you need to do practice, rest, interviews, emails.”… Of course, it’s never enough time in one day!11
For her, balance of career and family is essential, professing in 2009: “Without playing the piano I cannot live, and without my family I cannot live.”12 Kern’s son Vladislav is also a pianist, and Olga insists that his desire came from within himself. As a child, he even requested to study at the same schools as she. Vladislav is also one of her musical collaborators, as far back as 2008. In that year, the fiftieth anniversary of Van Cliburn’s win at the Tchaikovsky Competition, mother and son attended the celebratory event and performed. Olga reminisced in 2012 about this special moment:
“My son was eight and a half at the time. We did several pieces by Ravel, Mother Goose Suite, and Rachmaninoff’s Italian Polka. Van Cliburn did not know what we were going to do, it was a surprise. And when we started playing Ravel, he burst into tears, the tears of joy. It turned out that when he was small, he played this music with his mother.13
Vladislav is now an advanced pianist studying at Juilliard School of Music, and mother and son have recently performed Mozart’s Concerto for Two Pianos.
Since joining the faculty of the Manhattan School of Music in 2017, she has taught a small studio of pianists. Along with the rest of the profession, Kern moved her teaching online during the COVID pandemic. Her sentiments about teaching online have been echoed by others: “It was not that easy, but I was happy that I actually found out that I could do it! And then, my students were actually growing and doing things better.” Reflective of her affirming spirit, she summarized the era of online lessons as a “special part of our lives.” Her social media feeds include numerous snapshots into her studio, and these video clips reveal a teacher committed to constructive artistic development. Following the model of her teachers, she believes:
It’s not just a specific hour I need to spend with them, but I just need to give them all the attention they need. And everyone’s different, you know, so you really need to feel their personalities, feel what their fears are, what we really need to do to make them excited about practicing, about working.
Her desire to mentor the next generation—often referred to as her “children”—is palpable. At one point during our interview, she pridefully listed the accomplishments of her students and winners of her competition. In addition, the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” (founded with her brother Vladimir Kern) is another avenue through which she supports upcoming pianists.
The principle of balancing priorities is even significant to her in practice, an approach she instills in her students. Kern referenced Rachmaninoff and his efficient practice schedule of often two hours or less a day. She described how important it is to have structured goals, and how to avoid multiple run-throughs and excessive repetition of difficult sections, both of which stave off fatigue and injury. When I asked her to expand on how to maintain a healthy technique, she responded with important fundamental principles:
For me the very important thing is how you sit at the piano, how you distribute the weight of your body. Because a lot of times I see how young pianists are just using their hands only. This is really wrong, because then of course they will have difficulties, the hands will be tired. First of all, they don’t ever achieve a big, warm sound; it will not happen because they are not using their body. Body weight is so important, and when you are using it together with your hands, everything becomes totally different. Because first of all, you are more relaxed, you are not working that hard, and then you’re producing much bigger sound. At the same time, even if you are playing soft, soft, soft, you also need to use your body weight. It’s not just the finger, you know.
When she guides her students through practice, she focuses on using the mind, breaking down large works into smaller learning goals, and striving for specific sound goals. The practice encouragement she provides her students is simple yet important in our modern world: “It’s just your own time without phones, computers, pure and innocent, just you and your music.”
Before the phone interview with Olga Kern, I fully immersed myself in her recordings and career; I was inspired. After the interview—I was enchanted. She is a force! Her infectious zest for piano motivated me and filled me with gratitude. She is a model of how to learn and grow as a pianist, nurture the potential within oneself, relish the artform for its rejuvenating capabilities, while also championing and supporting those around you. I am waiting with bated breath to hear her solo recital at NCKP 2023.
Sources
1 Stanislav Ioudenitch from Ukraine was a co-winner of the Eleventh Cliburn International Competition in 2001.
2 “Medals of Honor,” Ellis Island Honors Society, accessed January 6, 2023, eihonors.org/medalists.
3 Olga Kern, Facebook post, May 16, 2017. Image taken from Facebook post, July 4, 2019.
4 “A Statement from Olga Kern,” Delos Productions, March 7, 2022, accessed December 8, 2022, delosmusic.com/a-statement- from-olga-kern/.
5 The family lineage of names is the grandfather Ivan Pushechnikov, the great-grandmother Vera Fedorovna Pushechnikova, and the great-great-grandmother Pelageya Safronovna Pushechnikova.
6 Peter Rosen, producer, The Cliburn: Playing on the Edge, PBS broadcast KERA/PBS (Fort Worth, Texas: Van Cliburn Foundation and Peter Rosen Productions, 2001), vimeo.com/519214432, accessed November 17, 2022.
7 Musicale, Interview with Olga Kern, February 18, 2022, youtu.be/_NOV54yfeUI.
8 Ibid.
9 Gil French, “Four Years after Cliburn,” American Record Guide (Washington, United States: Record Guide Publications, August 2005):
10 Robyn Sassen, “Interview with Russian Pianist, Olga Kern, for the JMS,” February 17, 2016, obynsassenmyview.com/2016/02/17/olga-kern-and-the-love-for-music-that-stays/.
11 Musicale, Interview with Olga Kern, February 18, 2022, youtu.be/_NOV54yfeUI.
12 Ann M. Gipson, “From Russia to America: An Interview with Olga Kern,” American Music Teacher. Vol. 58, No. 4 (February 2009): 21.
13 Tatyana Borodina, “Interview with Olga Kern, New York,” Elegant New York (blog), May 8, 2012, accessed December 8, 2022, elegantnewyork.com/interview-with-olga-kern-gold-medal- winner-of-van-cliburn-international-piano-competition/.
With deep sadness at the recent passing of Menahem Pressler and in greatest honor and memory of his legacy, we share this article by Jerry Wong as it originally appeared in the March 2016 issue of The Piano Magazine: Clavier Companion.
Menahem Pressler, best known as the pianist of the unparalleled Beaux Arts Trio for more than fifty years and a revered Distinguished Professor at Indiana University’s Jacob School of Music for even longer, continues a daunting schedule of performing and teaching. At age ninety-two, he shows no signs of slowing down, as plans for the future and the deepest devotion to his craft appear to drive his everyday existence.
Pressler, with the Beaux Arts Trio, at their final performance in Bloomington, Indiana, 2008.
I first met and played for Mr. Pressler in masterclasses at Biola University, in La Mirada, CA, in the late 1980s. His residencies there, consisting of a solo recital and classes (often two or three in a day) were an exercise in focused endurance, both for the performers and those attending. Students from all over southern California arrived with major staples of the repertoire, and Pressler, in one three-hour class after another, delved into each work with incredible insight and a disciplined approach to the composer’s intentions. Never showing fatigue, he gave his absolute best to each student. His style was demanding, attentive, and all-encompassing.
Playing for Pressler three years in a row during my teens eventually led to an audition at Indiana University. “You’ve played for me each year, and each year I see improvement,” he said, in a moment of quiet encouragement that remains blazed into my memory more than twenty-five years later. Working with Pressler in his studio in Bloomington, Indiana, was terrifyingly electric and powerfully illuminating. When my studies concluded, I often attended his concerts and masterclasses, but the recent opportunity to sit alone with him for over an hour and discuss his career, approach to teaching, and general reflections revealed new stories and ideas from this now iconic figure in the world of classical music.
I found Mr. Pressler on a sunny afternoon in early summer, sitting quietly in his daughter Edna’s condo in Boston, eagerly awaiting our conversation. His recuperation from a recent medical procedure had been strenuous, yet appeared to leave him unscarred and even refreshed. “I was with the doctor today for some tests, and the results were very good. I smell roses!” Beaming from ear to ear, he reminded me of the cat who caught the canary. And this cat has had nine lives for certain—not only in the real sense of his good fortune, but in the musical sense as well.
Born in Germany in the early 1920s, Pressler’s immediate family fled the Nazi regime to Palestine when he was just a boy. Extended family remained behind and perished in concentration camps. From the darkness of this early experience, a brighter theme of Pressler’s future emerged: an appreciation for his good fortune and a determination to make the life he had been spared meaningful. Music lessons became the highlight of his youth, and he ultimately opted to travel to San Francisco in 1946 to participate in the Debussy International Competition. A chance meeting in the basement of Steinway Hall in New York with famed pianist Byron Janis cast gloom over his first visit to the States. “Don’t go to the Debussy,” Janis warned, “the competition is fixed!” “the Pressler replied, “I must go. I promised everyone back home I would compete.” He went, won, made his debut with the Philadelphia Orchestra, and began a career as a solo pianist with significant engagements.
A publicity photo from the 1940’s.
Early years
In the years that followed the Debussy prize, Pressler made his home in New York City, fulfilled his concert engagements, and continued to expand his musicianship by pursuing lessons with some of the most celebrated teachers of that era. Studies with Isabelle Vengerova (The Curtis Institute of Music), Robert Casadesus (Fontainebleau Music Festival), Egon Petri (masterclasses at Mills College) and finally Edward Steurmann (The Juilliard School) all formed significant impressions on the young soloist. From these influences, Pressler can trace his lineage back to Busoni, Leschetizky, and Schoenberg.
Aspiring pianists of today should note that Pressler’s life at this point was a delicate balance of performing and sporadic lessons. Real life lessons from the concert stage supplemented the work in the studios of these various masters and vice versa. “You live and you learn, and at the end, you still feel like a student,” Pressler mused. His studies were certainly eclectic: the strict Russian pedagogue Vengerova (teacher of Sidney Foster, Gary Grafmann, and Jacob Lateiner), the consummate French pianist Casadesus, and the Busoni prodigies Petri and Steurmann all seem to represent very different schools and training. Yet somehow, Pressler’s teaching and performing reflects a complete synthesis of all these different approaches. I can recall masterclasses in which he moved from Bach to Brahms and on to Berg with the same ease, the same exacting interpretive style, and, perhaps most of all, the same steadfast affection for each and every score.
When reflecting upon my own studies with Pressler, I mentioned the fact that each opportunity to peel away at a new composer or genre was equally invigorating. He never placed certain composers in an elite status over others. Smiling at my observation, he said: “Actually, I liked Liszt, but my wife never did! Yes, okay, she liked the B Minor Sonata and the Dante, but anything else, she said, ‘don’t practice this at home!’ She thought it was cheap, but I disagreed. And I teach Liszt to my students. I think he was an enormous composer with great beauty. I played the Rigoletto paraphrase many times. After you see and hear a Rigoletto in the opera hall, you know that Liszt ennobled the piano in the way that Verdi ennobled the stage.”
Pressler at his 90th birthday celebration, 2013.
The Beaux Arts Trio in the 1960’s.
Beaux Art Trio
Much has been written and said over the years about the venerable Beaux Arts Trio. Since their debut at Tanglewood in 1955, the Beaux Arts Trio has toured worldwide and recorded virtually the entire trio literature, in addition to several collaborations with guest violists for quartets. While Pressler has remained a constant, the other members of the trio have changed over the years, beginning with violinist Daniel Guilet and continuing with Isidore Cohen, Ida Kavafian, Young Uck Kim, and ending with Daniel Hope. Original cellist Bernard Greenhouse was with the ensemble for thirty-two years, followed by Peter Wiley and Antônio Meneses.
Pressler is able to reflect upon all the various players in very fluid conversation. “You know that we recorded the Schubert Trios three times. Each time the change of membership brought some new life and meaning to the music.” He chuckled as he shared a spirited debate he had with Guilet and Greenhouse early in the trio’s history over the tempo of the Ravel Trio. “Why are you playing so slowly? What are you doing?” Followed by: “It’s how I feel this music.” And finally: “You feel differently from Ravel!” Growing serious for a moment, he remembered the late Greenhouse: “We were really very much together. As people, and musically, we were exceedingly close.”
Always one to remain more in the present, Pressler moved our conversation ahead to the closure of the ensemble. “Daniel was developing a huge solo career. He wanted to leave the trio. Our manager said to me: ‘Do you want to take another violinist? As long as you are in the trio….’ I stopped him. No. I would rather have the trio stop. I wanted the audiences to wonder—why did we stop? I didn’t want them to say that we should have stopped sooner!” The trio performed their final concerts in 2008.
On December 17, 2013, several generations of former Pressler students from all over the country converged on the Indiana University campus in Bloomington to enjoy a ninetieth birthday celebratory concert. His students have often made note of the fact that he shares the same birthday as Ludwig van Beethoven. For this event, however, Antonín Dvorák was the most significantly programmed composer. The Emerson Quartet joined Pressler for Dvorák’s popular Piano Quintet and Daniel Hope (former Beaux Arts Trio violinist) and David Finckel (cellist) joined Pressler for the “Dumky” Trio, a work heavily imbued with a tender sweetness that Pressler has brought to life literally hundreds of times on the concert stage. I called attention to the fact that Hope, the violinist whose exit symbolized the final chapter of the Beaux Arts Trio, joyfully returned to play with Pressler for this special event. Was there any whiff of regret about the younger violinist’s desire to pursue other avenues for his career? Pressler closed his eyes and with a quiet, peaceful affection, simply murmured: “Ah, Daniel, the one I love so much—he is a true sweetheart.”
New horizons
Late 2014 and early 2015 was a tumultuous time for Pressler. He was always known for keeping his priorities—performing, teaching, and family—all in a delicate balance without the slightest drama, but life caught up with him rather suddenly in a whirlwind of events. First, Sara Pressler, his beloved wife of fifty-five years passed away on December 19. Determined to honor his commitments, he traveled to Germany to perform Mozart’s A Major Concerto, K. 488, with the Berlin Philharmonic in a New Year’s Eve concert. “It was a special night,” Pressler recalled. “The orchestra sang like angels.” Immediately following his return to the States, however, he found himself hospitalized, first in Indianapolis and later in Boston, with what he now describes, in an interview with Dr. Virendra Patel of Massachusetts General Hospital on slippedisc.com, as “a time bomb within me.” The success of that procedure and his subsequent recovery is a testament to modern science, as well as the willful tenacity of a man in his early nineties, still full of life and music. Of all these events, Pressler spoke with the calm wisdom of a man who has weathered many storms: “Oh yes, indeed, all that happened in a short amount of time.”
As always, Pressler was most interested in discussing his plans for the future. Though he wistfully explained that his health issues had caused him to give up the cherished opportunity to serve on the jury of the Fifteenth International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, the upcoming summer months were going to be as full as ever. A Wigmore Hall recital with baritone Matthias Goerne featuring works of Robert Schumann was the first engagement. With only two days of rehearsals scheduled before the concert, Pressler was eager to share his thoughts about this highly poetic and deeply personal repertoire. “Bring me the music from the piano,” he said. Flipping through the score with a quiet reverence, he began to consider tempi and expressive markings in the score. He pointed out interesting modulations, cross rhythms, and hemiolas, and eventually ended by lovingly humming the opening to Dichterliebe.
It is remarkable that in his late eighties and early nineties Pressler has turned his attention to collaboration in the lieder repertoire. Recitals with Christoph Pregardien in Schubert’s Die Winterreise and Heidi Grant Murphy in Schumann have been particular highlights of this relatively newfound interest. When questioning him about his many decades of trio, quartet, and quintet collaborations with the world’s finest string players compared to the current work with singers, he said: “With my string colleagues, I got to know how everything worked. I knew their fingerings and their bowings—and could even offer suggestions to them. But each singer breathes and shapes the line so individually, so personally—it is wonderfully unique.”
The teacher needs to make strong demand, while always knowing the potential of what each individual student can achieve.
Menahem Pressler
Alongside collaborations with singers, Pressler has had an increase of solo recitals and concerto appearances since the end of the Beaux Arts Trio. The previously mentioned Berlin Philharmonic performance was a return engagement, following his debut with the famed ensemble the pervious year. Amused again by his good fortune, he recalled a solo recital in Paris shortly after the Trio’s last concert. “Much to my surprise a critic asked: ‘why didn’t he stop playing with the trio earlier?’ Soon after that my manager called me. ‘Mitsuko Uchida is sick. She cannot play a recital in Vienna. Would you consider jumping in for her?’ And I said yes.” On short notice, Pressler played an all-Schubert recital. Once again the press that followed was glowing and again he reiterated: “really, truly, no one was more surprised than me!”
Though his programming often draws on repertoire by Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, and Debussy that he has performed for many years, Pressler eagerly told me that he was planning to open some upcoming concerts with Mozart’s haunting A Minor Rondo. “As a youth, I asked my teacher for it and he said, ‘You are too young.’ Later, I worked with Steurmann. I asked for it again. He said, ‘You are too young for it.’ Then I served on a competition jury with Horzowski. Competitors had the option to select that Rondo. He said, ‘You know, whoever chooses the Rondo won’t pass to the next round.’ And, true enough, everyone who selected the Rondo was eliminated. But, when I became eighty, I decided that no one is going to tell me I’m too young for it. I’m going to try my very best.”
When reflecting upon my own studies with Pressler, I mentioned the fact that each opportunity to peel away at a new composer or genre was equally invigorating.
Jerry Wong
Menahem Pressler and Jerry Wong, 2015.
Teaching
“Give your maximum to each and every student. Require the maximum from them, but at the same time be sure they never feel that you do not believe in them.” When asking Pressler about his teaching philosophy, this was the first of a long string of almost proverb-like statements that transcended piano playing to the teaching of almost any discipline, craft, or subject matter. “The teacher needs to make strong demands, while always knowing the potential of what each individual student can achieve.” Most former Pressler students can attest to memories of what we might call “tough love.” In William Brown’s Menahem Pressler: Artistry in Piano Teaching, an entire chapter is devoted to Pressler’s humor. One citation after another describes Pressler’s witty manner of teasing a student for poor tone color or an unconvincing interpretation. In conversation, though, Pressler warned of truly abusive teaching. “I once knew of a famous teacher who said: ‘Why should I show this to you? You’ll never be able to do it.’ You say that to a student and they will never recover from it. It’s a kind of critique that doesn’t lead anywhere. It doesn’t help the student. Maybe it’s good for the ego of the teacher, but in reality, a great teacher develops a trust with the student that encourages the student to fight for knowledge and get better, and better, and better.” He smiled at me: “You know this now as a teacher yourself. Some students will play more and some students will play less. You as the teacher should be clear about what wonderful things each student is capable of attaining.”
Pressler is a firm believer in a variety of different finger exercises by Johannes Brahms, Charles-Louis Hanon, and Isidor Phillip. He advocates for them as a warm-up, as well as a means of developing a greater physical vocabulary at the instrument. “I still believe firmly in the exercises. I give them to my students when we are starting from the beginning. I do them myself. They strengthen my technique and still help me.” Gazing downward at his hands and then lifting them fluidly into the air, he said: “they help me create my own hands and fingers.”
As a juror of such prestigious competitions as the Van Cliburn and Queen Elisabeth, Pressler knows this particular phenomenon all too well. He maintains a positive and completely informed attitude about competitions: “I encourage students to enter, but to be aware of how fickle juries are and how unexpected the decisions can end up being. Jurors often have a limited view of how particular repertoire should or should not sound. If a student wins, great. If they don’t win but played well, it’s also just as great.”
When visiting Bloomington for Pressler’s ninetieth birthday concert, various faculty members expressed awe at his devotion to his teaching. His ability to stay long hours at school and work with his entire class in two days before resuming concerts tours has not withered. “My studio is as strong as ever,” he told me. “I have a wonderful class.” I asked if the students had changed much over his many years at Indiana University. He acknowledged that while the playing level is as high as ever, there is the occasional tendency to focus on too narrow a repertoire or skill set. “Sometimes teachers who want to send their students to an outstanding music school like Indiana don’t take enough care for the fundamentals—the foundation, so to speak, of the pianistic development. They teach them a piece or some pieces and say ‘with this particular repertoire you can get in.’ But it can’t be just that piece. It has to be something fundamental that you give the student which will stay with them in a variety of styles.”
As our conversation reluctantly drew to a conclusion, I begged Mr. Pressler for a few words of wisdom for how to gauge longevity in such a demanding career. Echoing the laments of so many friends and colleagues in the piano teaching profession regarding juggling practicing alongside student demands, I asked him how he had kept everything going for so long. He remembered his late wife Sara and expressed gratitude for her presence in the teaching studio over the years. “She was like a mother to my students. She was a strong part of the upbringing of the students and helped with the day-to-day scheduling. My wife was a magnificent coach who knew how to encourage the students. It was a special gift.” These days he enjoys input and companionship from his daughter Edna and also appreciates the many friends he has made all over the world who happily support and encourage him in his endeavors. He concluded: “In the end, really for me, the beauty of music has given a reason for my life.”
Every year, Piano Magazine offers students the opportunity to showcase their research and writing through the Collegiate Writing Contest. We are pleased to present the testimonies of two recent winners of this competition, in hopes that it will inspire other collegiate students to submit their manuscripts for a chance to be featured in Piano Magazine. The grand prize winner receives publication in an issue of Piano Magazine, and secondary prize winners receive publication on PianoInspires.com. This year, the contest runs until May 1, 2023. Learn more and submit an article here!
The date is April 27, 2020. I just turned in the final draft of my master’s thesis, and I am ready to call the semester over. It had been over a month since I left my apartment (and my cat) due to the pandemic. Then I received an email from my advisor along the lines of, “You should write an article and submit it for the Collegiate Writing Competition through Piano Magazine.” I’m sorry–what? The deadline was May 1, 2020. How was I supposed to write an article worthy of submission that close to the deadline while my brain (and soul) was recovering from finishing my master’s degree online? Well, if your advisor recommends that you do something, you do it. They know best…right?
So, I did it. I locked myself in my office and got to work. I might have become a little over zealous in the research stages of my thesis, so I certainly had plenty of content. I finally settled on a Norwegian folk song by Agathe Backer-Grøndahl. The hard part was trying to narrow the scope of my article. Why do other pianists and teachers need to know about this piece? What does it offer to students?
Let’s just say the first draft was definitely a rough draft. It was essentially a music theory paper. After some feedback from my advisor and one of my peers, I scratched the entire thing and started over. What made this piece special? Why did I choose it? Aha! The rhythms. I realized that Grøndahl used strong hand shapes and positions to allow students to focus on rhythmic complexities. Surprisingly, this version was the easiest to write. I found a topic interesting to me and beneficial to my students. That’s what this is about, right?
Throughout my adult life I have had conflicting feelings regarding generic inspirational quotes (i.e. “You’ll never know until you try…”). I always craved real and specific advice. Yes, I’ll never know until I try, but what do I gain from trying? What do I gain from failing? Why should I spend time and energy on something that might not benefit me? In this case, why should I put myself through the stress of writing (and rewriting) an article when all I want is my degree and a nap? The truth is simple: I did not know what I did not know until I tried. Read that again. I did not know what I did not know…until I tried. I learned where the deficits in my writing and my ability to talk about music were. I learned that I can write quickly when needed (and pushed). I learned that sometimes the greatest advice I can be given is to just try because I will discover the “why” myself.
So, my advice is just do it. Write an article and submit it. You’ll never know what you don’t know until you try.
My master’s research centered around the underrepresented majority of pianists; those whose hands are considered small by late-Romantic standards. I was highly motivated to share what I had learned with the outside world, especially given how significantly it had helped me with my own teaching and playing, but I didn’t have a good way to do so outside of my school, LSU. Dr. Pamela Pike strongly recommended I take a portion of my research and turn it into an article for the Collegiate Writing Contest at Piano Magazine. Because I had spent several months writing about small-handed-piano technique, in both academic and lecture form, it was easy for me to quickly draft a 1,000-1,500 word essay.
I’m extremely thankful for my colleagues at LSU, who had heard me talk about my research throughout my entire project. Because they understood my thoughts and goals, they were able to help me revise my draft in a way that was approachable and fit the style of a Piano Magazine article. I might not have considered writing for a magazine if I hadn’t had that kind of support.
Submitting the article was a little scary because I had never done something like that before. However, I felt I had something to add to the conversation surrounding small hands, and I knew it would add authority to my CV and resumé for future job applications. Also, why not submit an article? I had done months of work and research. The worst thing that could’ve happened was that I’d have to try again in the future.
When I received the email that I had won the competition, it was so affirming! As a young person, I had never been recognized outside of my immediate circle of professors and colleagues. It gave me the confidence to present at the fall LMTA (Louisiana Music Teachers Association) conference, something else I had never done before. I look forward to continuing my academic journey, alongside my teaching career.
Book reviews in each issue of the Piano Magazine provide readers with a sneak peek inside the latest publications on piano teaching, performing, and learning. The Autumn 2022 Piano Magazinereview of Every Good Boy Does Fine by Jeremy Denk will have you running to your local bookstore to buy a copy. Fans of Denk will find this review by Ann DuHamel to be as inspiring, witty, and insightful as Denk’s own writing. We welcome you to read the complete review here and subscribe to enjoy more excellent reviews in Piano Magazine.
…that is the point of this book: a love for the steps, the joys of growing and outgrowing and being outgrown.
Jeremy Denk
I am secretly, or not so secretly, if you ask my husband or any student who has lived through my Piano from Bach to Jazz class, a huge fan of Jeremy Denk. Yes, he plays marvelously; but beyond his artistry at the keyboard, I’m completely, utterly enamored of his gift with words. Reading his (now archived) blog Think Denk was a frequent pleasure during my doctoral program. I found it poetic, poignant, humorous, and occasionally heartbreaking. When I learned of the publication of Every Good Boy Does Fine, I counted down the days until it arrived. The short review of this book is: if you haven’t already read it, purchase it immediately, and read it now. Do not pass “Go,” etc. Keep in mind, I’m an awkward and nerdy bibliophile who, like Denk, much prefers Brahms to Rachmaninoff, so I identify strongly with most every sentence in the book.
You, gentle reader, probably seek a more nuanced take beyond my exhortation. This memoir reflects on Denk’s life, pianistic and otherwise, through his doctoral work at Juilliard. He structures the narrative in three overarching sections, “Harmony” (pre-college), “Melody” (undergraduate years at Oberlin), and “Rhythm” (time in Bloomington, Indiana, studying with György Sebok, and after). Each section is subdivided into six or seven parts; musical lessons and commentary alternate with biographical chapters.
Denk describes every pianist’s foibles and tribulations in true and hilarious ways: “having two hands makes the piano impossible”1 and, “Will I ever be done with the thumb? The answer was No, never.”2 His aphorisms brilliantly sum up the importance of listening, frequently recalling his beloved mentor Sebok: “Remember…the music is not the notes. It is between the notes.”3
He illuminates the importance of the score and textual detail: “when the composer’s marking seems most insane is when you need to pay the closest attention”4 and, most marvelously, “the written page of music was a treasure map.”5
The musical observations merge with philosophy, undergirding Proustian reflections about how time, music, and memory intertwine. This is what I so enjoy about reading Denk: he is a philosopher and a poet, searching for deep meaning, giving voice to what we quest for in our lives. Music simply happens to be the metaphor he uses in his writing, from the Bach B-minor fugue of WTC I, “a journey from known to known, via unfathomable mystery”6 to the Chopin F-minor Ballade, which “…carries a truth: You do not decide where to go, and then begin going there. In real life, while you are deciding where to go, you are already traveling.”7
Lest you think it’s all heavy lifting, Denk’s wry humor is also on full display. In describing various musical elements, he utilizes wonderful and bizarre analogies—Wile E. Coyote, taxidermied squirrels, cars sliding into snow drifts, the wardrobe leading to Narnia. He pokes a fair bit of fun at himself too: what other kid proclaims the PBS opera album as their “new life soundtrack”8 or writes a “manifesto for a utopian society”?9 Even so, or because of this, when he reveals his epiphanies and shares his successes, you the reader rejoice along with him.
Jeremy Denk
At the top of each chapter, Denk offers a curated playlist, featuring the works he discusses within. These works range from Bach to Messiaen, Monteverdi to Elliot Carter, and include Barbra Streisand singing Gounod’s “Ave Maria” and Nina Simone. The annotated appendix provides greater detail, including his recommendations for recordings and the word “Bachitude,” which I have now added to my lexicon.
This is a coming-of-age story. It is also a love story, primarily to the teacher who serves as mentor and guru. Denk shares pages of uplifting anecdotes from Sebok: lessons about beauty, about ennobling oneself, about teaching and discovery, demonstrating the utmost importance of one’s teacher in molding the musician and the human being.
The book is, in Denk’s words from the opening Prelude,
“…the story of piano lessons: obsessive repetition, climbing toward an unknown goal that rewrites itself, once achieved. The truest realizations aren’t at the peak, but are discovered almost by surprise, and through release, by passing back down the old, same steps. …that is the point of this book: a love for the steps, the joys of growing and outgrowing and being outgrown.”10
And what a beautiful testimony to the steps this book is indeed. I find myself, in the days and weeks after reading the book, approaching my practice differently, through a Denk-ian lens. In the appendix, regarding Mozart K. 545, Denk poses the question, “How can you teach, and still be transcendental?”11 I daresay this book is a masterclass in exactly how to teach and still be transcendental. (Random House, 2022, 384 pages, $28.99 hardcover and other formats available).
NOTES
1 Jeremy Denk, Every Good Boy Does Fine (New York: Random House, 2022), 27. 2 Ibid, 47. 3 Ibid, 258. 4 Ibid, 178. 5 Ibid, 278. 6 Ibid, 104. 7 ibid, 107; Denk is specifically referencing the returning melody in mm. 134–135 with this quote. 8 Ibid, 23. 9 Ibid, 49. 10 Ibid, xi. 11 Ibid, 342.
