Ludim Pedroza currently serves Assistant Professor of Music at the University of the Incarnate Word, in San Antonio, Texas, where she teaches music history and piano. She is a native of Venezuela, South America, where she studied piano at the conservatory Vicente Emilio Sojo in the city of Barquisimeto, from the age of 6 until her graduation from high school. She consequently earned B. A. and M.A. degrees in music (performance) from Antillean College and West Texas A& M University, and a Ph. D. in Fine Arts from Texas Tech University. Her research focuses on the philosophy and cultural anthropology of performance, and her presentations include "Priestess at the Piano: The Mind/Body Conflict in Clara Schumann's Performative Persona" (Hawaii International Conference on Arts and Humanites, 2007), "The Infinite Liminoid: A Look at Clara Schumann, Franz Liszt, and the Rest of Us Amidst the Wonders of Performative Neverland" (CMS South-Central, 2006), "Experimental Piano Recital: New Ways of Engaging a Diverse Audience" (CMS South-Central, 1999). Dr. Pedroza's performance interests gravitate towards the exploration of non-canonical repertoire in historical and aesthetic relation to standard repertoire. Her most recent solo piano recital featured repertoire which explores the human perception of the natural world and of life in the outdoors; it included works by Johann Sebastian Bach, Bela Bartok, Ann Ghandar, Claude Debussy, Franz Liszt, and Margaret Bonds.
Ludim Pedroza
University of the Incarnate Word
4301 Broadway
San Antonio, TX 78209
210.829.3849
pedroza@uiwtx.edu
"Broadcast yourself," is YouTube.com's official slogan, an extremely popular internet site that allows people from all over the world to post audiovisual footage either of themselves (performing or simply 'being") or of anything that is of particular interest to them. The site contains excerpts of a variety of performances ranging from the latest pop music videos to gamelan performances in Bali. Perhaps even more interesting than the videos is the critical commentary that accompanies them; anyone who wishes can post - in comfortable anonymity - their bluntest and most sincere thoughts on any video excerpt.1
It is not surprising to find the latest popular music videos on YouTube, but art music video-excerpts have a prominent presence on the site as well. Indeed, there are hundreds of video-excerpts of piano performances alone featuring such artists as Vladimir Horowitz, Martha Argerich, Glenn Gould, and a host of other past and present concert pianists.2 These too are accompanied by critical commentary and it is this commentary along with the role of the visual aspect of musical performance that I wish to discuss in this article.
A YouTube dialogue on an artist can go in many directions; after all, any person in the world who whishes to post a comment can do so. Usually, the dialogue is started by fans of the artist who praise his/her abilities using clipped phrases such as "he's great!" or "she is my favorite!" From time to time, one encounters a more erudite and critical statement, which presumes to explain in very specific terms why the artist is great - or not. Take, for example, the video of Rafal Blechacz3 performing Chopin's Sonata Op. 58 No. 3 in B minor, posted by a fan on August 2006.4 The footage consists primarily of numerous close-ups of Blechacz's hands, arms, and torso from various perspectives. The accompanying discussion about Blechacz's performance soon turns in the direction of criticism regarding his use of a "very flat" right hand pinky. A wide array of piano students and piano enthusiasts varying greatly in age and nationality (U.S., Italy, Argentina, Iceland, etc.) participates in the conversation. The discussion revolves around numerous personal opinions, some "free-spirited," some unrelentingly dogmatic. Is there such a thing as a "correct" hand position? Are Horowitz, and perhaps Blechacz, "renegades" because they use their hands and fingers in peculiar ways? Is Blechacz's right pinky clearly double-jointed? Are his hands "ugly," yet his sound superb? Are the judges of the 15th International Frederick Chopin Piano Competition justified in their decision? Are these judges the most qualified individuals for deciding that Blechacz is the best Chopin "interpreter" alive? Can there be such a thing?
While undeniably lively, the spirited controversy over Blechacz's alleged technical peculiarities pales in comparison to the ongoing debate between the Evgeny Kissin-ists and the Yundi Li-nists.5 Videos of both pianists performing Paganini/Liszt's La Campanella were posted throughout 2006.6 The conversations on both performances individually, of course, are wide ranging, as fans and detractors of each comment on the pianists' idiosyncrasies of gesture and technical ability. The discussion becomes even more complex, however, when the commentators begin to compare and contrast the two performances, a not surprising turn since these two renditions of the famous Paganini/Liszt etude could not, in fact, be further apart. Kissin revels in speed, clarity, and crispiness, while Li's tempo is atypically conservative, which allows him to enhance tone colors and craft surprising textural layers and dynamic voicings. Both performances are superb and exhilarating on many levels and flawed on others, which is precisely what many of us enjoy about live performances. But the YouTube dialogue seems to get bogged down in age-old extremes: wrong notes vs. flawlessness, "expressiveness" vs. technique, "correct" interpretation vs. "incorrect" interpretation.
We may roll our eyes and dismiss the whole thing as one more example of the internet's tendency to create virtual, ephemeral, and allegedly trivial realities. Moreover, the first impulse of the reader who casually drops by the YouTube universe may be to flee the scene in dismay at the apparently nonsensical cyber lingo, the numerous misspelled words and names, and the not so few tirades of serious insults put forward by some participants. Nevertheless, I think the YouTube "Piano Wars" are worth exploring, although not necessarily for the purpose of gaining new wisdom on the subject of pianism.7 What we as educators can obtain from the YouTube commentaries is a unique insight into the intimate personal attitudes, opinions, and concerns that are being perpetuated throughout the student, amateur, and art music-lover communities. In the remainder of the article, I will single out two aspects of piano performance discussed in the YouTube commentaries that have important ramifications for professional pianists and educators: 1) the performer's body as visual art and 2) either/or attitudes and the zeal of the music lover.
The Performer's Body as Visual Art
It is easy to understand how dialogues about technical issues, such as the ones developed in relation to Blechacz's hands, can only happen in the presence of video and not just audio files. After all, if one chooses to separate the "technical" aspect of piano playing from all other ones, the athleticism of piano playing is certainly relevant. If one considers pianism to be a sport of macro-and micro-muscle achievement, the notions of "listening" and "paying attention" do not seem so compelling. Of course, one could just as easily argue that a dispute about two different pianists' "interpretation" of the same work could develop with or without the actual visual footage of the performers coming into play. Merely "listening" and "paying close attention" to two different recordings of the same work could be enough to inspire interpretative wars. But could it also be possible that the YouTube Piano Wars are precipitated and enhanced for the most part by seeing the performer at the instrument?
Consider a summary of the arguments in favor of Kissin's interpretation: it shows "true" virtuosity by taking a faster tempo than seems humanly possible, it portrays the sounds suggested by the title (a "little bell"), it illustrates the amount of power the piece requires as Kissin's sweat and hair fall profusely while performing; in short, it portrays a true "Lisztian character." Supporters of Li's interpretation, however, downplay Kissin's performance as "too technical and inexpressive" and list some of the following arguments in favor of Li's performance: it contains "fewer mistakes," it revels in a complexity of textures and dynamics, and finally, it is "truly expressive." One could almost say that to enjoy Kissin's Campanella one must see him, while Yundi Li's goes "beyond" the visual. This argument, nevertheless, could easily be turned around: perhaps Yundi Li's performance appears particularly expressive because one sees a different demeanor from that of Kissin. Yundi Li smiles throughout the performance, moves his torso around, appears "to feel the music," while Kissin's powers of concentration are evident in the pronounced frown, the quivering unsmiling lips, and the straight torso. In short, seeing both pianists at the piano actually adds a layer of complexity to their "interpretations" of the music.
Historically, the dilemma of the visual versus the aural has been and continues to be at the heart of modern pianism (19th - 21st century). Do we play mainly to be heard, trying to minimize our bodies and personas or do we make our bodies and personas part of the musical work? Do we conceive of the physicality of "technique" as a means for achieving musicality or do we make physicality and musicality the same end? Do we restrain ourselves from using demonstrative gestures so as not to intrude on the audience's aural experience or do we give the audience the opportunity to witness, and thus share, the performer's music-kinesthetic experience?
Many classically trained pianists have inherited very specific (or sometimes very tacit and subtle) values regarding the role of their bodies and gestures during a performance. For the most part, post 1950's pedagogical pianism requires the pianist to place his or her own body at the service of the music. Yet, when one looks at past generations of pianists, and present ones too, one will find an infinite and highly individualistic array of "physicalities." From the quiet, aristocratic restraint of Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli or Maurizio Pollini to the fiery power of Sviatoslav Richter or the whimsical enjoyment of Glenn Gould, the artistic signature of a pianist is always determined in large part by his or her physicality at the piano. In the YouTube Piano Wars, Kissin's rendition is judged to be "too technical" and "inexpressive" in comparison to Li's. Yet each rendition is uniquely crafted through the body and personality of the performer; neither one can be "inexpressive" since "emotion" and "intellect" are, in fact, two sides of the same coin.8 On the other hand, some of the defenders of Kissin's rendition judge his performance "best" because it is "doing the job that needs to be done," that is, by not "indulging" in expressivity but by presenting "the music" as it is. Kissin's performance then is judged by some to be interpretatively "sounder" than Li's, which leads to my next point.
Either/or attitudes and the zeal of the music lover
Internet feuds on various topics, especially politics and religion, are extremely common thanks in great part to the empowering and liberating anonymity which cyberspace provides. Consider the length of the dialogue about the interpretative value of Kissin and Yundi Li's performances. Kissin's video was posted in May of 2006 and Yundi Li's was posted in August of 2006. Since 2006, then, passionate cyber-interlocutors have been, and continue to be, engaged in a virtual battle involving a misleading and naive concept of "interpretation" rooted in strong, but unexamined convictions about what constitutes "expressive" playing. From time to time, a mature-sounding conversant has dropped by to offer a truce by reminding the participants to respect each other's preferences and opinions. Sooner or later, though, the conversation seems to re-cycle around to the same problems.
It would be easy to attribute such dialogues to youthful hubris. On the other hand, we must not forget that contentious encounters among musicians and music lovers have never been lacking and musicians often maintain unwavering convictions about what they "believe" is "the truth" about music or musicianship.9 What I find interesting is that many of the attitudes and comments posted seem to come from an array of young or amateurish participants whose views echo those of pianists since the time of Franz Liszt and Clara Schumann. While many critics and musicians in the 19th century preferred the immediacy, drama, and self-oriented style of Liszt, many others were adamant that Clara Schumann's more restrained, classicist, and composer-oriented approach was "superior."10 Clara Schumann herself often criticized Liszt for providing "faulty" interpretations of certain composers.11 These arguments, which have been recycled for generations, are beautifully illustrated by that famous rejoinder of Wanda Landowska: "You play Bach your way and I will play it his way." Did she mean that there is one "correct" way of playing Bach, prescribed by Bach? Both the scholar and the performer in her knew this not to be so, yet the statement betrays her protectiveness of her own interpretations of Bach. Today we can hear the Bach not only of Landowska, but also of Tureck, of Gould, and many others. So we are fortunate to have inherited the legacies of Both Liszt and Clara. But the question remains, why do many musicians feel so strongly that there must be an absolute, irrevocable, and perennial truth about the meaning of music and musical works? Are these convictions rooted in the intense communion we forge with the instrument, the repertoire, the canon, and the heroes of pianism? How many of us freely and routinely talk with our students about the issue of music's meaning, about its potential seriousness or lightness, and about the importance of keeping an open mind with respect to the musical experiences of peers and colleagues? The anonymity of the internet empowers "chat"-ers not only to voice their opinions, but to defend them through virtual aggression.12 Despite its potential negative aspects, then, the internet, as a forum for the discussion of aesthetic issues that are central to the experience of music, can perhaps teach us all something about our own attitudes towards music and musicians.
In Closing
And after all, why do we perform? For exploring the human potential? For spiritual fulfillment? For athletic and kinesthetic achievement? For pure fun? For preserving music? For introducing new music? For creating music? For sometimes dismantling our egos and sometimes indulging them? For any, some, or none of the above? It is a question that deserves attention and inquiry, but for which there may be no single right answer. The motivations behind performance can be as variegated and infinite as the different ways in which people look, and sound, as they perform. Such a democratic notion of musicianship does not constitute an invitation to sloppiness or carelessness. On the contrary, it is an invitation to awaken and revitalize our "artistic consciousness,"13 our awareness of the history of performance and performance philosophy, and our enjoyment of the visual and aural sides of performance. In the internet era, the audiovisual dissemination of musical performances can be a great asset for keeping the practice of art music alive, not only amongst prospective musicians but also amateurs and the general public. Unfortunately, cyberspace can also afford an opportunity for the music community to maintain and disseminate dogmatic attitudes which do not reflect or nourish the human side of making music. For it is precisely when we see the artist making music that we are most compelled to recognize this unique form of artistic pursuit, which involves not just the "music," but the living, breathing, distinctive persona of the performer.
Notes
1. YouTube is an internet service that allows both individuals and institutions to post audio and audio-visual footage. College professors also make use of this site to post video materials that can later be discussed in class. Posted excerpts can be discussed through the site's open forum which is available on each single posting. Visitors should be advised that YouTube does not censor commentaries in terms of either language or ideas. YouTube has faced a number of lawsuits involving copyright infringement by its users. The debate seems to center around the question of YouTube's responsibility for the footage posted by its users, which may or may not be infringing on traditional copyright laws. As the internet music industry did in the previous decades, the YouTube site will undergo legal scrutiny and procedural revisions while the internet community continues to establish how to create relevant copyright guidelines.
2. To my knowledge, no complaints regarding copyright infringement of most of these excerpts have been forthcoming. Moreover, the Van Cliburn Foundation posted excerpts of their latest production, Encore! With James Conlon (2005). The documentary features Conlon's view on the philosophy of performance along with various performances of the participants and winners of the 12th Van Cliburn International Piano Competition.
3. Rafal Blechacz (b. 1985) was the winner of the 15th International Frederick Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw. (October 21, 2005).
4. Rafael Blechacz performing Chopin's Sonata in B Minor, Op. 58, accessed July 2007.
5. Evgeny Kissin, born in 1971, is a Russian pianist of significant international renown. His younger and considerably less famous colleague, the Chinese pianist Yundi Li, is best known for being the youngest pianist to win the first prize of the International Frederick Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw in the year 2000.
6. The videos in question can be accessed at: Evgeny Kissin, and Yundi Li. If the reader wishes to visit the dialogues in question, he or she should click on "view all comments" in order to experience the dialogues in a sequential manner.
7. Nor can somebody with the "right" credentials jump in and "enlighten" the dialoguers; credentials are irrelevant in these particular coordinates of cyber space.
8. See for example Antonio R. Damasio, Descartes' Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain, (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1994). Several new editions have been issued since the book was first published in 1994.
9. Many examples of these types of feuds can be found throughout the history of Western music, but perhaps one of the most notable is the so called War of the Romantics which involved on one side Wagner and Liszt, and on the other Hanslick, Brahms, and Clara Schumann. See for example the chapter entitled "The War of the Romantics" in Alan Walker, Franz Liszt: The Weimar Years: 1848 - 1861 (Cornell University Press, 1993).
10. For numerous and varied critical views of Liszt's aesthetics dating from his own time, see Adrian Williams, Portrait of Liszt: By Himself and His Contemporaries (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1990). See also the chapter entitled "Other Friends and Contemporaries" in Nancy B. Reich, Clara Schumann: The Artist and the Woman (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985).
11. One of Clara's most recalcitrant notes on Liszt can be found in Williams, Portrait, 317. "But it was so horrible, that my feelings could find an outlet only in tears. How he banged the piano, and what a tempo he took! I was beside myself that His work should be so desecrated in these rooms which have been hallowed by Him, the dear composer. Liszt afterwards played Bach's Chromatic Fantasy equally dreadfully..."
12. The cyber-dialogues regarding the interpretation of La Campanella by Evgeny Kissin and Yundi Li feature the occasional participation of one extremely aggressive individual, whose severely dogmatic attitude once pushed him into a highly offensive tirade against another dialoguer, a thirteen-year-old female piano student.
13. A phrase coined by Goerge Houle in his article "Performance: The Profession and Preparation for It" College Music Symposium 14 (Fall 1974): 1 - 12.
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