Now, if I want to hear some good music, I’ll find some down-tempo house music on SomaFM, some James Brown if I want an acid flashback, The Beatles or Pink Floyd if I want to rock out, some Miles Davis if I want to feel cool and/or kind of blue (get it? lol), maybe a Mozart sonata if I’m in a pleasant mood, some Schumann if I’m feeling bi-polar, Shostakovich when I’m feeling oppressed by The State, some Bach when —

Hey, now wait just a gosh darned minute.

This heavy-handed, totally-not-subtle-at-all rant raises an interesting point. Ignoring how all the names I listed are already old anyway (I’m a boring, uninteresting person), there are some names that definitely fit into the Classical Music camp. “But Simon, didn’t you just say that Classical Music su–”, yes.

Yes I did.

Don’t interrupt.

You see, when I think of my favorite composers, I couldn’t care less about the etiquette, how the music is written down, what edition is being played, what key the music is in (it could be in F-triple-flat minor for all I care), the Opus number, how historically accurate it is, blah blah blah. All that matters to me is that I hear something expressive that speaks to me in a way that only music can. Aphex Twin and Rachmaninoff both do this, but in different ways. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enticed by the grandeur of a giant symphony orchestra with a soloist performing superhuman feats out in front, but on the same token, if I went to a rock concert and didn’t see visuals cranked up to 11, I’d go home disappointed.

So, when it comes to my favorite sub-sub-genre of 20th century piano literature, there are some things that get me upset. It doesn’t bother me if so-and-so missed a note in the 125th measure. I don’t understand why the length of a pianist’s dress is a relevant issue. I couldn’t care less how much precomposition went into a ridiculously complex piece of music if it fails to communicate with an audience via sound. I don’t need to read about a Sonata’s ABACC’BA’C”DAEA” form in the booklet or program notes to appreciate it any more than I would for Gershwin.

Granted, I’m a music nerd and a composer, so I do have an interest in the subtlest, nit-picky details like staccato duration, rhythmic accuracy in 3-against-5 patterns, and appropriate pedaling in Bach fugues. However, the craft of the music is not the music itself. If my car doesn’t get me where I need to go, I really don’t care what space-age material the tailpipe is made of. Likewise, you’d be wrong if you said the details under the hood didn’t matter at all. Fine craftsmanship is necessary in any art form, but it doesn’t need an academic, cultural stamp of approval to be relevant. Nice cars are just nice. Good music is just good. Consider this: The Chopin “Raindrop” prelude became popular as “The Halo commercial song”, and Debussy’s Claire de Lune was everywhere after Ocean’s 11 came out. Now, if you’re a musician and this sort of thing makes you cringe, you have to admit that good music becoming mainstream is an excellent thing. Besides, nobody complains that Rossini and Wagner are in Looney Tunes. It should serve as a very, very good lesson this stuff becomes popular when none of the Classical Music performance practices are present. You probably didn’t even learn the Opus numbers from Looney Tunes.

Classical Music sucks, and I think it’s time we finally admitted it. But, there are many, many composers during this long stretch of musical history that were amazing and phenomenally expressive musical geniuses. I suggest you go check them out and download their stuff into your music library.

– Simon Bielman, Mar. 14, 2012
http://www.simonbielman.com/

Perhaps I’m frustrated with the quality of my own performance. Maybe it’s because I can never voice those runs of thirds in the right hand exactly how I want them. That’s certainly irritating, but I have similar frustrations with other pieces and I’m always eager to put the hours in to iron out sloppy passages and work on subtle details.

Well, usually, anyways. Sometimes I’d rather just eat a sandwich.

Besides, I record music that is still in progress and listen to it all the time, including Beethoven. Although I certainly hear the flaws, I can look past them and enjoy myself all the same. Right now, my piano’s out of tune, my recording equipment is sub-par, the keys are sticking, and the pedals are squeaking, but despite these mechanical problems and the handful of mistakes caused by my sloppy fingerwork, if I played honestly and from the heart, I only hear music when I play it back. That’s what really counts in my book.

No, what makes me storm out of the room has nothing to do with the music, my performance, the long hours of meticulous practicing, or the squeaky pedal. In fact, the end result of fixing all of these problems is what makes being a musician so satisfying, and it’s why I ultimately can’t pull myself away from my instrument.

What makes me leave the room is because playing Beethoven is absolutely and completely pointless.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But Simon, music is necessary for the soul, and Beethoven wrote some of the greatest music ever written! What right do you have to make a statement like that?” Well, I’m still listening to Beethoven piano sonatas, so I certainly can’t disagree. In fact, I was overjoyed when I had the opportunity to claim the complete Richter recordings as my own.

But this is exactly where my frustration begins.

There used to be a time when every performance mattered, and your favorite music wasn’t on a record, CD, iPod, or YouTube video. At this very moment, there are thousands of other musicians working on the same repertoire and devoting every waking hour of their life to recreate something that anybody can download for one dollar from the iTunes store. Should we spend our entire lives repainting the Mona Lisa, or rebuilding the Pyramids? That’s just stupid, yet there are musical institutions all over the world that are doing just that, long after recorded media has made them all but obsolete.

I have nothing against higher learning or musicians who want to play classical music – it’s my entire career, after all. Unfortunately, it’s extremely rare to make any money from performance nowadays, and we all need to pay the bills from time to time. So, unless you go into teaching, that music degree with those countless hours of practicing won’t find you a job. In the end, we learn Bach to teach the next generation to teach Bach to the next generation and so on.

But my rant isn’t about the financial well-being of classical musicians – it’s about the redundancy of the repertoire. There is so much great classical literature out there that one could spend their entire lifetime learning it all. However, where can we find our audience for Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, etc. if they have already been recorded perfectly? Why spend so much time and effort to learn a Beethoven sonata using correct, historically-accurate performance practices when one can simply find it on Amazon.com? Why should a café hire a live musician instead of putting on a CD for nearly no cost at all?

If the music of old is already vouched for, we’ll need to look at some newer, fresher pieces, but where do we find them? This is our next hurdle, and it’s a tricky one. There are certainly plenty of great, talented composers today, but contemporary classical music (as if that term made any sense) has a bad reputation. Whether or not we enjoy the stuff, the audience is very selective. We can choose to blame radio DJs, concert programming, or uneducated ears. It can also be argued that the music must sound new and avant-garde because there is no purpose is saying what old composers have already said. However, I’d like to pose this question:

What if a new, unpublished Beethoven symphony had been discovered?

Wouldn’t we all want to hear it immediately? Wouldn’t it be programmed absolutely everywhere, worldwide? Wouldn’t there be a mad dash to record it first? Wouldn’t it be appreciated for more than just its historical significance? Wouldn’t it be analyzed and dissected to pieces in order to create the best, most precise, most heartfelt performance possible?

Let me pose another question: What if, one year later, the symphony turned out to be a gigantic hoax and was, in fact, written by your neighbor, Bob Johnson, in between games of Tetris while he was bored at the office?

Well, first of all, it turns out that Bob is a genius, but more importantly, had the name Beethoven not been attached to the work, would it ever be programmed at all? Would anyone have even encouraged Bob to finish it? Would Bob have been actively discouraged from writing something so “classical”? Would a work written on June 17th, 2011 have been taken seriously?

Finally, the most important question: If we had heard Bob Johnson’s symphony on the radio, not knowing the composer or its date of composition, and we liked it, do any of those questions even matter?

The fact that there are audiences listening and students dedicating their entire lives to learning music from old composers proves that a hunger for those styles is alive and well. We can’t deny that Schönberg was a talented composer, and I have no intention of insulting the man, yet sixty years after his death he’s still far from mainstream. In fact, if you’re not a musician, you probably haven’t heard of him at all. The problem with “new” classical music is not that it’s badly written, poorly performed, or that audiences are uneducated, but rather that it’s too obsessed with being new. Any piece of music heard by anyone who is not yet familiar with it will be new to them, regardless of its date of publication. A contemporary composer’s music is competing directly with Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, J. S. Bach, Mozart, and Debussy – as contemporaries.

My frustrations really don’t lie with Beethoven or have anything to do with the music he wrote. They are with the current state of the classical music world, its establishment, and the mindset regarding new music. There will always be a place for great orchestras to play great art from the past, and pianists should certainly keep learning to play Beethoven for their own enjoyment and fulfillment. However, if any of us want to have a career, we’ll need to find some new music that inspires us in the same way that our favorite composers have, or start composing ourselves. There are reasons why young students dedicate their entire lives to learning Chopin. Maybe we should write some more.

I’m going to go eat a sandwich.

Simon Bielman, 2012

…but first, enjoy some music!

Playing piano in my new home.

I’m currently staying with a nice family in who have a lovely music room with an old Blüthner grand piano! So, I’m taking advantage of this by practicing constantly and making a few recordings. I need to get a new microphone for better audio quality, but in the meantime, I’ve taken four improvizations and bundled them into a suite for your enjoyment (yes, you specifically). Have a listen! Note: I cheated and sped up a few of the tempos because it sounded better. Oops!

Download the full suite by clicking here, or listen to the audio posted below.

Berlin comes in many flavors

Beautiful countryside,
Solid grey buildings,
Bustling city streets,
Graffiti-soaked gateways
to the netherworld.

Perhaps the Winter weather is at fault, but after living here for two months, it’s still difficult to describe Berlin in a nutshell. Each area of Berlin has its own personality, and depending on where you go, this city may be either cold, grey, and decorated solely in graffiti, or full of activity with people hurrying from place to place, the streets lined with brightly-colored marketplaces and Döner Kebab vendors. If you go to the outskirts of the city, you may find yourself near a lake or surrounded by lush, green forest. All of Berlin is easily accessible by train, and if you’ve purchased a Monatskarte (monthly ticket) for travel on the S-Bahn, U-Bahn, tram, and bus, every neighborhood feels local, even if it’s almost an hour away.

I’ve met so many people here from so many different countries. One night, we went out for drinks with a few friends: at our table were two Americans (me and my lovely girlfriend), a German man, a Serbian woman, an English man, and a man from Finland. Our common language was English, so naturally that’s what we spoke. This happens more often than you’d expect, and it makes it very difficult to learn German here! We celebrated Thanksgiving with the same folks plus an Austrian friend of ours and, apparently, the American Thanksgiving feast is somewhat of a legend here – this made devouring of a giant bird that much more special.

My Life in a German City

One WIP project – the
Synesthesia Color Keyboard

Speaking of mass transit, a lot of my time thus far has been spent travelling from place to place on the S-Bahn. I’d found an Anglican church near Westkreuz whose pastor was generous enough to let me practice piano there twice a week while I got my feet on the ground. Unfortunately, the trip was almost an hour each way. Fortunately, I had a workbook of German verb exercises to keep me company and teach me the various forms of the word “is”: sein, sind, ist, bist, seid, sei, seien, war, warst, waren, wart, wäre, gewesen – hopefully that’s all of them.

When I wasn’t travelling to practice, I was lugging my laptop to and from the city library to work on Visa paperwork, musical projects, job applications, research, and anything else that needs to be done without distraction from YouTube. Now that I’ve moved to Zehlendorf, my routine is completely different. I’ve finished my verb workbook, German classes begin soon, the library is only three stops away by train, and there’s a piano room upstairs that becomes my “office” when the kids here are at school during the morning. Not too shabby!

Looking ahead

look its nosferatu
omg imso scared

Other than rant about how delicious the jam is here and how difficult it is to find a wireless café, I can’t think of much more travel-related stuff at the moment.

I’m starting up a few recording projects, including silent movies, something involving synesthesia and color projections, and more shenanigans all over the interweb. I’m working on material for auditions for Masters exams, including Scriabin Sonata No. 5 and Beethoven Sonata in C Major, Op. 2, no. 3. Here’s a work-in-progress recording of the Scriabin, recorded here at home!

[Audio]

Berlin Is Run by Robots

I, for one, welcome our
new robot overlords.

When I arrived in Berlin, at which point I’d been awake for over 30 hours (not even drugs could zonk me out on the plane ride), it suddenly hit me that everyone was speaking German – oh crap. Now a foreigner, I have a newfound respect for my friends from abroad. The signs are in German. All the children are speaking German. The Simpsons is in German. Doors are wacky and open both sideways and from the top. The outlets are gigantic. Some of the 1€ coins have Mozart on it (I approve). The toilet, which you usually must pay for in public places, is in a separate room from the shower. Keyboards have an Ö button. Dunkin’ Donuts is a popular internet café. Stuff is different.

We were staying in a neighborhood on the outskirts of town that is surrounded by forest and feels far-removed from city life. However, five minutes away by foot, there was a high-tech train line which connected to a large, complex transit system that runs through the city with clockwork efficiency. With a map of the train routes, you can get anywhere in the city without the use of a car.

Berlin is an interesting city that is full of duality. The architecture and aesthetic of new buildings is modern or avant-garde while the older, classical structures still remain. This is reflected in the Reichstag building, the meeting place of the German parliament. Its outer walls from 1894 still remain, but inside it is relatively new, made of glass, metal, and mirrors, all designed to be energy-efficient. This duality is also felt due to the politics of a reunified West and East Germany.

After a few days in Berlin, we caught a train to Salzburg with a brief stop in Munich. It turns out Oktoberfest was going on, so I got the chance to see people running around in Lederhosen while singing about beer. On the train, the police came out of nowhere to check our passports. Fortunately, I am not writing this from prison.

Salzburg Has Pretty Stuff in It and Said Stuff is Pretty

Thanks for the picture of
Salzburg, de.wikipedia.org!

Believe it or not, I haven’t seen The Sound of Music, so this was my first look at Salzburg, and let me tell you, there are good reasons why Salzburg is a tourist attraction. The river Salzach flows through the center of town, in a small valley surrounded by bright, beautiful, green mountains. This part of town is full of old buildings, alleyways, shops, and people, but it still feels cozy and pleasant. There is a massive fortress, the Festung Hohensalzburg, atop the mountain on the west side of the river, with majestic cathedrals and rustic alleyways below. People are constantly moving on foot, bikes, or by bus, and there is a vibrant, pleasant energy that flows through the streets. You won’t see many business suits, but you’ll see plenty of people in Durndles and Lederhosen. Mozart was born and raised here, and the town likes to remind you of that every 10 seconds. You’ll hear some accordion music eventually.

For most of the stay in Salzburgland, Hayley and I were in Antering, a cozy little cow town north of Salzburg, with Hayley’s host parents. We enjoyed the freshest milk imaginable from the Milchautomat at €0.60/liter. Cows are everywhere, so expect to hear a loud “Moo” every two minutes.

Similar to Berlin, public transit here is fantastic. With a €18 week ticket (Wochenkarte), you’re free to take any public transit or local train (Lokalbahn) in and out of town as you please. The Lokalbahn from Antering runs every half-hour, and you’ll never wait more than 5 minutes for a bus while in town. There are plenty of touristy things to do, but what I enjoyed most was visiting the Mozarteum, an international music school, to practice piano. Every piano available in practice rooms were grand pianos, but, of course, there’s no way I would know that because I’m not a student. Right? Right.

Hayley and I happened to be in town during the Long Night of Museums on October 1st, which meant we could every museum we wanted to for a flat rate of €13 apiece. There’s no shortage of museums to visit, so we wandered around town for hours, investigating the fortress, looking at God-knows-what in the museum of modern art, and appreciating some beautiful oil paintings. Most notably, there is an amazing Panorama painting of the city measuring 4.9 x 25.8m from 1829. We also visited Mozart’s Wohnhaus (living house), which had approximately one hundred billion rooms (give or take three).

There is also a more relaxed, less economically-driven lifestyle here. For example, businesses will close early on Fridays, not be open at all on Sundays, and sometimes close at noon. In some ways, it’s refreshing, unless you need to get anything done.

One thing noticeably missing from Salzburg, however, was a decent Internet connection. To do anything online, I had to visit McDonald’s in Getreidegasse, which isn’t too far from Mozart’s birthhouse. Blasphemy? Yeah, a little bit. Fortunately for me, McDonald’s employees generally don’t care about anything, so I was always able to sneak in to use their wireless connection without buying overpriced tourist burgers (made from tourists, obviously). When burgers are €6 apiece, I am not above a little subterfuge.

Millstatt Is Most Certainly Not Run by Robots

Hayley and I are currently settled in a small, cozy home in Millstatt, Austria. I’m currently looking out the window at a beautiful lake, which is nice, but I miss the energy of a big city. The town is extremely small, very quiet, and very isolated. That being said, we’re both extremely happy to have our little home together, even if it is only for one month. There’s a music school nearby, so I will likely have a place to practice piano daily. For work and Internet, I’ve been given a key to the small dance studio space owned by Hayley’s employers. Because the dance season is over, it’s empty and lonely, but it’s a good place for work. I’ll keep myself company by screaming at the top of my lungs.

I’ve re-applied to Berlitz schools all over Germany and some prospects have opened up. I’m basically spinning a giant Wheel-o’-Jobs, and whoever gives me a job in any German-speaking city, that’s where I’ll go. Hopefully the wheel lands on a big city or, failing that, some place with good ice cream. I’ll take either one.

Musical Goings-On:

Thanks for the notes, Scriabin!

So, after roughing it out in Portland for a few years, I realized that music is hard work. Well, duh. But how hard is it? Hard enough that once you rely on it for income and spend every waking hour of your life practicing, recording, networking, booking events, balancing your budget, maintaining a website, advertising, and anything else for publicity, it’s no longer fun. In fact, I’d rather fry burgers at McDonald’s for better pay and a shorter, easier work day. It would make taxes easier, that’s for sure.

I also still have a lot of work to do in the practice room so I can produce more music more quickly and more accurately. My technique is really quite dreadful, so as soon as I find work to support myself, I plan to enroll in school to get a Master’s degree in piano performance. Now that I know exactly what it is I want to do career-wise, I can focus on studying with some specific goals in mind.

In the meantime, for repertoire, I’ve been working up Scriabin Sonata No. 5 and spending the rest of my time sight-reading Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven. So, aside from the Scriabin (which is a bit too dissonance and dense to play for Grandma), I won’t be learning any pieces for performance any time soon.

Warning: The next few paragraphs are extremely nerdy and relevant only to me, but I’m going to write about it anyway.

Technique-wise, my latest thing is to finally train my fingers to be less stupid. For years, I’ve been relying on motion from my arms and from my wrists, and while these are useful motions, I’m not using my hands effectively at all. So, I’ve been doing Czerny exercises, and I’ve just grabbed a copy of Clementi’s Gradas ad Parnassum, Vol. I in Salzburg. Supposedly, Beethoven lived by this – it’s probably worth looking at.

I’ve also had a eureka moment that’s a bit of a no-brainer, but still invaluable. When the hand is in the “correct” position with fingers bent inward, the fingers cannot move laterally without a great deal of tension. This means that in order to take advantage of all muscles in the finger when striking a key, the hand cannot be stretched wider than its natural shape. So, when playing large chords, there is a guaranteed loss of dexterity in the fingers. Also, when playing wide arpeggios, it’s best to keep the hand small and tight, relying on the arm to guide the fingers to the correct notes instead of stretching. The thumb, however, can move independently – thanks, evolution!

I’ll write more later, but for now, I have to get back to real work. Feh.

– Simon