5. On Wings of Song

Sightreading. Lots of arpeggios and octaves--even in octaves. See first pic. I usually sightread without pedal.

4. Papillon (Butterfly)

This song was haaarrrd! In fact, is hard would be more accurate because I'm still working on it. Playing Edvard Grieg's Papillon, my fingers have to perform these weird contortions and the speed coupled with the long stretches (especially in the left hand) gives my joints a real workout. J. T. recommends some rubato, and whenever I listen to a recording of the piece, it's in the chromatic passages (as in photo above) that I always hear the rubato happening: it speeds up! So those parts become challenging on the fingers, too. (Actually, this recording is pretty amazing, because it's of Grieg himself playing Papillon in 1906!) Like Sonata in F Minor, though, once you get through the first section, the figures repeat either exactly or via transposition, so the text becomes easier to grasp. 

Here's a picture of the second section that forces the left hand to stretch (swing) to an eleventh! To be fair, the middle (or index) finger gets to act like an anchor/fulcrum to facilitate the stretch, but it's still an awfully long one. I recall Grieg's Waltz in the 4th grade book that required a similar long stretch--probably to a tenth, but still far for me because my fingers can only comfortably handle a ninth. 

This very difficult passage requires strange couplings of the fingers while executing fast, syncopated runs. Luckily the thumb is a strong finger and can easily whack out those accented notes, but the sensation of playing the accent on that beat (and so many in succession) is strange at first. I practised for a long time without the pedal because I wanted to get the passages as smooth as I could using pure technique. Adding the pedal really does improve the effect though, and I understand why it's part of the text. 

Below the right-hand syncopation happens again, this time a few notes higher up the keyboard (begins on C, where before it began on the G below.) It does something different just after where the picture cuts off. I'm still trying to figure it out.  

These runs are arpeggios in the left hand and chromatic-like scales in the right. They are beautiful. The second time around (below), they modulate back down to the original key and the bend in the melody just tugs at something inside me. It is pathos, and I love it! I think it might not be quite accurate to say the key changes at all throughout, though, as there's so much dissonance going on that it's hard to make a distinction between that and actual modulation. Either way, it's all nuanced and brill.

Then the text returns to its beginning, but with an octave in the left hand. It was once I got here that I realised I'd been playing F instead of F# the whole time. (Yike!) Luckily adjusting wasn't difficult because the shape of the hand was familiar from the first variation on that figure, which began in measure 4 on C#. (Whew!)

Here, a higher version of the initial phrase. Way up there at F#. But not as high as the final note of the song is low! Check out that finale. It happens on the lowest note of the keyboard. Bam!

My friend Jessica made a surreptitious recording of me practising. The phrase "fits and starts" accurately describes it, but here it is... for posterity.

3. Orientale

I used this as a sight-reading exercise. I guess I did that for the three songs that J. T. uses to ease us into the book. I was (and am!) still working on Sonata in F from the 4th grade book, so these that weren't so taxing to technique, I used to improve my still-weak sight-reading skills. I found that I was able to progress steadily through the text. Though I went slowly, I wasn't frustrated, and I consider that tremendous progress, as I usually face sight reading with trepidation and immense discomfort. The B^♭ major key signature wasn't too much of a hurdle.

2. Scherzo in B Flat

I used this piece (the Allegretto and Trio portions of which seem like two pieces) as sight reading exercises. I think these pieces, which sound jovial and robust, are much simpler than the book level. They were perhaps chosen to ease the student into the Fifth Grade Book without trepidation or intimidation. But when I started playing, it was clear that the technique wasn't really pushing my capabilities but lay well within them. So I sight-read a few times. 

These are great melodies though. I rather like Schubert. From Serenade through Valse Sentimentale up to now (and looking forward to his Impromptus), he has never failed to please. Too bad he died so young... ah Schubert and Keats, parallel tragic romantics.

1. Prelude in C Major

Yep, Fifth Grade book has begun (!), but I'm pretty much still straddling both this and the fourth grade, because February 28 has come and I'm still working on Beethoven's Sonata in F Minor!! This Bach piece is, I think, a bit easier than even John Thompson's version of Grade 5--but he always begins each book with an easier piece, I guess to ease the student into the grade. So I'm using this as a sight-reading exercise. Basically this pattern just repeats over and over. This is a song I've always wanted to learn, though. Perhaps I will memorize it one day. 

34. Theme from 6th Symphony (Pathetique)

This is a sight-reading exercise. The technical difficulty level is not that high, but it requires some sophistication regarding timing, since it is 5/4. I teach my students iambic pentameter, and I swear this time signature always makes me think of that. That's kind of what it is. I could set a Browning poem or Shakespeare sonnet to it, probably.

33. First Movement from Sonata in F Minor, Op. 2, No. 1

Still working on this piece (January 27, 2016) even though I'm already posting. It's taking a long time, as it's by no means short or easy. The technical challenge is at RCM grade 10 level, and I believe it. Though it's been taxing, it's been rewarding rather than frustrating. I've been working on it concurrently with Mozart's K545 Rondo in C in order to break up the stress and monotony--if I ever feel them. Between those two pieces, I've been doing a lot of Alberti bass work. This is good. I really feel myself improving.

I know that even though I've only just reached the end of the sonata's exposition (i.e. nowhere near the end), I've previewed pretty much all the technique it requires. This means that the rest of the piece will be only "mildly" taxing and in the areas of memorization and technique perfection rather than technique acquisition. This is heartening, though perfection will naturally take a very long time--if it can be achieved at all.Soon it's on to the fifth grade book! But for now...

This part (left) was hard to get. I spent some time early in the game learning it because it looked like it would be difficult. The left hand broken octaves were definitely not intuitive. Took weeks and weeks to feel semi-comfortable and I'm still not 100% (Feb. 29, 2016). The good news is I actually felt my fingers relaxing in the left-hand version of the very first opening phrase today. I don't have a pic, but it occurs just before this section. I contains a C-minor arpeggio beginning on G and ending on E-flat. I'd been having some trouble with it for a while, the left hand being what it is. The triplet that follows was especially difficult, since I was using fingers 1-2-3. They felt really awkward and I probably could have changed to 2-3-4 and felt easier, but I figured the (former group of) fingers needed the work out, so I kept using them. (In general, those triplets were kind of a pain, but of the good kind.)

This is a nice, lyrical bit that follows the difficult LH section and immediately precedes that broken octave phrase above. It requires legato with chords, which is difficult when you have to switch more than one finger at a time. But I think I'm getting it. Below it is the companion section which kind of repeats the phrase on the above, but this time the right hand plays octaves. Notice that staccato in the first bar that allows the RH to leap onto the E-flat octave. Then the thumb has to stretch to reach the adjacent D^♭. Took a bit of practice, but it worked out.

 These two sections require major Alberti bass work. The left hand was tricky because the fingers shift Alberti-style between keys and the pattern alternates ever so slightly. I haven't ever really found Alberti bass to be scary, but this doubles whatever challenge it usually presents and leaves your mind to sift between the two until it figures it out. I messed up for a long time, especially at that leap to G-F^♭ in the middle bar (lower left). Even now, it surprises me every time I make the leap, even though I do it pretty consistently.





I remember having some trouble with the timing for this run at first. Then I remember practising it over and over for 2-3 days--that making up the entirety of the practice session spent on this song. I image I have of sitting in my darkening room while the sun set on my practice is visual, kinaesthetic, and eidetic. Not sure why it's so stark. I keep meaning to speed it up, now I've got it ingrained in my fingers, but I mostly forget.



I like this part with all its jumps and acciaccaturas. The leap isn't obvious here, but it's in the left and and does something like a diminished seventh. Took me a while to get the hand shape correct (but I had a head start because of a similar chord in the earlier measures). It repeats in this register and then leaps up an octave to do the same at a higher pitch.






Fun times playing a chord with all five fingers here. It feels very empowering (although I recall six-note chords from Chopin's Prelude in C Minor way back when!) I don't even know what to call that chord. Probably some kind of G suspended seventh. Dunno, but it resolves beautifully to A^♭ major.  I had some trouble getting there from the previous notes because positioning the left hand exactly right to hit all five notes took some practice. I've more or less got it now though.