10. Berceuse

Memorising this song by Benjamin Godard took me a couple sessions longer than I expected. It was worth the time, of course, because like Serenade, I really appreciated the song's vibe when I listened to a recording of it and was eager to learn it. The opening passage pictured to the left provided me with more training in  hand-independence and reminds me a bit of Melody. But I think many of the factors that contribute to the song's charm also made learning it tricky. The fact that much of the song is composed of broken chords aids memorisation, certainly, but the arpeggios in the left and right hands are sort of tessellated and repeated in variation. So that it's remembering the precise configuration that gets you. It's not so bad the first time, but the second time the chord comes around, since the arrangement is a little different, the challenge then becomes recalling which pattern you're currently on. Getting it right is challenging, but also extremely rewarding, because the melody is in the changing patterns, and it's very satisfying to hear it unfold. Below is a comparison of two similar passages:

In the second bar, the change between the first and second renditions of this passage occurs only in the fingering: the final C is played with the second finger the first time and the first finger the second time. This very subtle adjustment isn't at all a change in the text's aural manifestation but only in the intention shoring up the execution of a future change, one that occurs in the first note of the third bar (F to G). After that, the text adds C# in the third beat of the fourth bar (RH) and replaces the D that follows with an F. This (sort of) forces the semibreve to contract to a dotted minim, altering the rhythm slightly too. So overall, three material changes in an otherwise identical passage encourages some mnemonics.

I chose to change the fingering for this passage to something that provided an easier transition to the notes that follow. But I have to admit, J.T. was on to something when he chose the 2-5 fingering, because that actually makes it easier to play the notes. Playing the text with 1-4 isn't so much awkward to hold as to play in arpeggio. My left thumb and right index keep trying to strike simultaneously! So I keep playing with the fingering I chose now out of sheer defiance because I think they need to learn to act independently.

This arpeggiated A-minor chord with added B-flat (below) soon transforms into the C7 chord that marks the key signature's transition from the C major to F major. At this point, the time signature also changes from 3/4 to 4/4. Key changes happen all the time in music, but this was actually the first time I've had to play a song that changed time signatures. It was interesting. I keep wondering if I should pause a little longer between the two sections to get into a 4/4 mood... It was also at this point that I noticed a greater facility in my reading abilities. I read through this middle bit while playing for the first time in my life. A landmark moment really, and ought to be recorded.

This final section shows some three-staved hand-over-hand crossing. There on the left is that curly brace that shows everything's played simultaneously by the same person—simple enough to do here. (I saw some today at the end of Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# Minor that made my head explode. But that's the story of a year, another year... way, way, way into the future.)

 

For now, I'm still trying to figure out what these dotted lines mean. I googled it and nada. (Legato between hands, maybe, in pace of the slur?)

Update June 26, 2015: I think I figured this out, or at least have another theory. It seems to mean play that note with the right hand. I think. I saw these dotted lines in Arkansas Traveler too, and it just felt that J.T. wanted me to use my right hand to play that single note on the F clef. Still seems kinda weird here though.

Alan Chan's Rendition