Written on March 28, 2008
Last week I gave a talk at the Manhattan Country School about the piano and its capabilities. My audience consisted of eighty children ages 8-12 and their teachers. To demonstrate how multi-layered dynamics can help delineate lines in dense musical texture, I decided to play the Etude Op. 25 No. 1 in A-flat Major of Frédéric Chopin. I told the audience the nickname for this Etude, the “Aeolian Harp,” a magical harp played by the wind. However, since Chopin himself did not give his music this name, I encouraged my audience to give the Etude another nickname if after hearing it they felt inspired to do so. I often do this at performances because I am always curious how the audience perceives the music, and how the music might trigger their imagination.
I sat down at the piano. There were two large windows behind me. It was a cloudy day. I began playing softly. When I got to the first long crescendo, the sun came out from behind the clouds, gradually growing warmer and brighter, in perfect sync with the crescendo. When the music was at its loudest, the keyboard was illuminated by sunlight so bright that the reflection from the white keys became blinding, and my eyes began to water in reaction to the piercing brightness of the light. Strangely enough it did not bother me. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of being in sync with nature, of being enveloped in light and in sound at the same time.
The children remained very quiet throughout the performance. When I finished playing and turned to them, a small child raised her right arm so urgently it looked as if someone was pulling the entire right side of her body up toward the ceiling. I asked her to share her thoughts. She said with quiet certainty, ‘”I think it should be called the Miracle Etude, because when the music got louder and louder the sun got brighter and brighter.” Others voiced their agreement. Her keen observation and articulate response surprised me. Many more hands went up. I called on another child who said the music sounded like rain. Her response reminded me of other times when nature was somehow in sync with the music. During a performance in Copenhagen, it began to rain just when I arrived at the minor section of Chopin’s “Raindrop” Prélude. Thereafter, I noticed it happened a couple more times when I was practicing the same piece at home. When I shared these special memories with my audience, all voices said in unison “ Do it! Do it!” I had to laugh, realizing the conversation had taken a wrong turn.
I called on more kids who offered more nicknames for the Etude: Island over Moonlit Sea, Waves of Strings, Harp Waves, Chrysanthemum Blooming, Flowers Blooming in the Park, Spring, and finally, Spring Vacation, which was coming up soon for these kids. Indeed, each response inspired yet more new names. Each new name conjured beautiful imagery for me. I never thought to listen for the chrysanthemum blooming, nor to the music of an island floating over the moonlit sea. Thanks to the children, now I will.
(Listen to the "Miracle Etude" and other Chopin recordings by Hsia-Jung:)
http://www.mixcloud.com/drala/happy-birthday-chopin-love-mandala-studio/
copyright 2008 by Hsia-Jung Chang
Last week I gave a talk at the Manhattan Country School about the piano and its capabilities. My audience consisted of eighty children ages 8-12 and their teachers. To demonstrate how multi-layered dynamics can help delineate lines in dense musical texture, I decided to play the Etude Op. 25 No. 1 in A-flat Major of Frédéric Chopin. I told the audience the nickname for this Etude, the “Aeolian Harp,” a magical harp played by the wind. However, since Chopin himself did not give his music this name, I encouraged my audience to give the Etude another nickname if after hearing it they felt inspired to do so. I often do this at performances because I am always curious how the audience perceives the music, and how the music might trigger their imagination.
I sat down at the piano. There were two large windows behind me. It was a cloudy day. I began playing softly. When I got to the first long crescendo, the sun came out from behind the clouds, gradually growing warmer and brighter, in perfect sync with the crescendo. When the music was at its loudest, the keyboard was illuminated by sunlight so bright that the reflection from the white keys became blinding, and my eyes began to water in reaction to the piercing brightness of the light. Strangely enough it did not bother me. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of being in sync with nature, of being enveloped in light and in sound at the same time.
The children remained very quiet throughout the performance. When I finished playing and turned to them, a small child raised her right arm so urgently it looked as if someone was pulling the entire right side of her body up toward the ceiling. I asked her to share her thoughts. She said with quiet certainty, ‘”I think it should be called the Miracle Etude, because when the music got louder and louder the sun got brighter and brighter.” Others voiced their agreement. Her keen observation and articulate response surprised me. Many more hands went up. I called on another child who said the music sounded like rain. Her response reminded me of other times when nature was somehow in sync with the music. During a performance in Copenhagen, it began to rain just when I arrived at the minor section of Chopin’s “Raindrop” Prélude. Thereafter, I noticed it happened a couple more times when I was practicing the same piece at home. When I shared these special memories with my audience, all voices said in unison “ Do it! Do it!” I had to laugh, realizing the conversation had taken a wrong turn.
I called on more kids who offered more nicknames for the Etude: Island over Moonlit Sea, Waves of Strings, Harp Waves, Chrysanthemum Blooming, Flowers Blooming in the Park, Spring, and finally, Spring Vacation, which was coming up soon for these kids. Indeed, each response inspired yet more new names. Each new name conjured beautiful imagery for me. I never thought to listen for the chrysanthemum blooming, nor to the music of an island floating over the moonlit sea. Thanks to the children, now I will.
(Listen to the "Miracle Etude" and other Chopin recordings by Hsia-Jung:)
http://www.mixcloud.com/drala/happy-birthday-chopin-love-mandala-studio/
copyright 2008 by Hsia-Jung Chang
