Getting to the Heart of the Music

Play it once. Okay, not bad. Now fix [X]. Play it again. And again. And again. How many more times until this is right? Just keep going. Don’t stop.

That describes it - the practice session. Not quite right? Do it again. And again. All these emotions filter through the mind as each piece of music and each bit of technique is worked over and over again in the quest for perfection. There is excitement to be working on something new and interesting. There are bouts of self understanding on the learning journey. There is joy and pride as each new level of mastery is attained. Alongside the joy and triumph, there can be long periods of frustration and tedious repetition as the mastery can feel elusive and not be reached quite as quickly as one desires.

It is easy to get so caught up in the cauldron of emotion that it is easy to overlook the important part of being a musician - conveying the heart of the piece to the audience. In order to do that, it takes time and repetition. There are no shortcuts, no matter what one wishes. I find that I discover something new as more time is spent working on a piece of music. The more complex the music, the more layers of emotion are uncovered. In this instance, I’m not talking about the personal feelings that run internally in the hours spent towards technical mastery. I am talking about the emotion that the composer embedded in the music as he worked his craft.

About two weeks ago now, I had an experience as I worked the middle section of a Rachmaninow prėlude at the piano. It was a very profound A-Ha! moment. But before I go to talk about that moment, here is a little bit of the background regarding me and this particular piece of music.

In the autumn of 2021, I started to work on my Royal Conservatory of Music grade 10 piano. Although it was the right choice for me at the time, there was always a part of me that had wished I had finished my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Music at York University back in the mid 00’s. While returning to finish is not in the cards, I decided that I would go back and finish the RCM program. I had done my grade 9 as an adult after starting to work as a professional engineer. So why not, in the final days of the pandemic, take the time to start to work on the grade 10?

I connected with a wonderful teacher, who has since left Fort McMurray for Nova Scotia. She was fabulous at setting me up with repertoire that I probably would never have considered if left to my own devices. One of those pieces was a prélude by Rachmaninow. At first glance, there was a lot of black ink on the page with large crashing chords, with a melody buried amongst them. It was definitely daunting at first glance. However, as I am not one to shy away from a challenge, I proceeded to dig into it.

I started to work on it in December 2021. At some point in all pieces of music that I work, I start to get annoyed with page turns and shifting my gaze between the music and the keyboard. I start to feel it is extremely distracting and begin to rely more and more on my internal memory to minimise the distraction, which becomes a problem if it isn’t completely memorised. Once I come out of that internal spot, I end up having to hunt for the spot in the music. And it is never consistently the same spot where that happens!! This becomes extremely frustrating. It is when this frustration starts to be consistent, that it is time for me to make the effort to memorise the piece of music.

I started memorising it in November 2022. It took me a few months. There are a lot of notes on the page, and it took effort to ensure that they were all there. I remember that all I did over the Christmas holidays in 2022 was to work on memorising just the middle section. Of all the memorising I did for my grade 10, that section really stood out as being the toughest. I think the Bach fugue was easier and that is saying something as Bach fugues are notoriously difficult to memorise.

With all my efforts, it is ensconced in my memory now. Once a piece has been memorised, there is a release of focus and energy that is now free for use in providing musicality. The energy is free to be used to express the emotional messages that are embedded in the music. But, how does this happen?

While I am practising the same thing hundreds and thousands of times, I will admit to not always paying attention. I will admit that there tends to be a bit more auto pilot, going through the motions than there should be. It is not easy to pay that much attention for that long. Despite all the autopilot, there are still sessions where attention is being paid to the internal workings of the mind and there is focus on the music at hand. And it is in one of those sessions where I was paying attention that I had this particular A-Ha! moment.

In that particular moment, I realised I had reached the next level of understanding the music. I had managed to dig deep enough with my unrelenting repetitions over the past couple of years to see and experience something entirely new. It was the most glorious feeling of understanding and compassion for the composer. I felt like I was finally understanding what he was trying to say. The depth and complexity of the harmonics resonated more strongly and really showed the cohesive message and I felt it deep in my core. Never have I felt more connected to a composer than in that one particular moment. It was such a profound moment.

I am a firm believer in the importance of the feeling of interconnectedness that music provides among people within society. It conveys messages for which words sometimes do not feel adequate. To experience this moment in my practice session now means that I have an important job to do. It means that I, as a musician, have to now use the skills at my disposal to communicate this meaning, this message from the composer to the listener and my audience. That is a profound mission, and one of critical importance.

That moment resulted in changes to how I am approaching that prélude in my practice sessions. It is also impacting how I think and how I feel about that particular piece of music. It impacts how I now want to present this piece.

Outside this particular piece of music, I am now going to approach some of my other music more carefully. I am now feeling more committed to finding the real message behind the melodies and the harmonies. I am more committed to serving the composer, as well as the audience. I am more aware of the responsibility that a musician has in supporting a cohesive community.

I love these kinds of unexpected moments in which a shift in perspective occurs. Nothing else can make you feel so alive or so human. I was so lucky to have this moment. And I feel a bit of chagrin over all those autopilot moments. It is so worth it to pay more attention during all those repetitions. I feel like I have been chastised by the music, and now must approach all practice sessions with more awareness. I will better serve the composer. I will better serve the audience. It is how to grow as a musician. I was so lucky for this. I am so lucky. I look forward to more such moments.