Introducing the Baroque Period

By 1600, the Renaissance had morphed into a new, adventurous frontier both in the arts and in sociopolitical life. The church’s artistic monopoly had been relaxing throughout the Renaissance, and in the now-named “Baroque” period the royal courts began taking the creative lead in earnest. The royal courts were also more socioeconomically powerful than the church for the first time. Europe was getting wealthier and greedier; explorers had already infiltrated the entire Western hemisphere and established the roots of a global economy. Europe’s first middle class emerged, wanting access to the goods and knowledge being traded, and the stratifications of class became clearer than ever before. The middle class wanted music too, and not just in the church or from minstrels on the street. Because of this demand for concert music—music to be observed live, for its own sake, in a secular setting, by this new middle class—we have the Baroque period to thank for the single biggest diversification of musical formats in any period of music.

Wealthy courts all over Europe employed composers, large ensembles (the first orchestras in the west), and conductors to keep them all together in the increasingly complex compositions written for them. The opera, concerto, sonata, cantata, oratorio, and suite are just some of the musical mediums that evolved in these courts. An impressive number of Europe’s most well-loved composers were employed by a Baroque court or church: Monteverdi, Frescobaldi, Rameau, Lully, Pachelbel, Corelli, Purcell, Vivaldi, Telemann, Bach, Handel, Scarlatti, to name just a few.

So there’s a lot to talk about. We’ll spend several entries in the Baroque period. For now, to sort out all the terms, here are some categories and definitions. I promise there won’t be a quiz at the end, but best not proceed further until we sort all these words out.

Instrumental Music

  • Concerto
  • Concerto Grosso
  • Sonata
  • Suite

Vocal Music

  • Opera
  • Oratorio
  • Cantata

The vocal definitions are along religious/secular lines. An opera combines vocal and instrumental sounds to tell a secular story. It usually is performed with costumes and some sort of set. An oratorio is also a combination of vocal and instrumental music, but tells a biblical or sacred story, and does not usually use costumes or a set to avoid unnecessary frivolity. Cantata is a general term for any non-operatic works for vocalist(s) and accompaniment, usually short movements in a set.

The instrumental definitions are less clear and tend to be used differently by different composers. In general the concerto is, literally, a “conversation” between a soloist, or group of soloists, and a larger accompanying ensemble. For example, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is a concerto with solo violin, a heavily featured solo cello and harpsichord, called the continuo section, and larger ensemble. Concerto grosso implies that the solo is not just one person but a group of soloists, so some may consider the Four Seasons a concerto grosso instead of just a concerto.

Sonata and suite tend to be used interchangeably in the Baroque period and both generally refer to works for a small number of instrumentalists, consisting of a prelude and a succession of dance-inspired movements. Baroque sonatas, suites, and concerti generally feature a continuo section of the ensemble, regardless of the other instrumentation. Continuo is almost always a harpsichord at least, and sometimes has a cello (gamba) as well since its purpose is to provide block harmony and baseline.

Now that that’s over, let’s look at some early Baroque music!

Early Baroque: Monteverdi and the Opera

Monteverdi’s lifetime spanned half of the 16th and half of the 17th centuries, so he was a key transitional figure between the Renaissance and the Baroque. He is most associated with refining the opera as a musical genre. Monteverdi had already established himself as a master of madrigal writing before he delved into full-length stories set to music, and having the financial security of his court position allowed him to put all of his energy into the creative talent he was being paid for. So, as the madrigals became woven together by narrative topic, Monteverdi introduced Europe to its first operas. Sadly much of his output is lost, but his surviving works works are long-lived favorites and highly influential. L’Orfeo, Europe’s first opera, is still widely performed today.

L’Orfeo: possente spirito

All operas have a plot line they follow, and Monteverdi set a still-strong precedent of giving operatic music one of two roles: getting through plot material, or pausing to feature a singer’s virtuosity. When an opera pauses the plot’s motion for the singer to feature their virtuosity, essentially a stand-alone song within an opera, this music is called an aria.

Possente spirto e formidabil nume (“Mighty spirit and formidable god”) is an aria from L’Orfeo. The overarching plot of L’Orfeo is the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in which Orpheus must travel to hell to retrieve Eurydice after her untimely death. This aria takes place as Orpheus approaches the entrance to hell and begs Hades to grant him entry.

The first thing you’ll notice about this is the ornamentation, or how the singer decorates pitches with other sounds. Modern operatic singing is known for its heavy use of vibrato, a technique to make a pitch louder and more resonant by employing closely neighboring frequencies. This singer uses vibrato as well, but he also uses other period-appropriate embellishments, such as articulated vibrato on a single pitch, intentional lack of vibrato altogether, articulated ascending and descending scales, and exaggerated vocalizing, such as rolled “r” sounds. This is meant to illustrate his emotional state, that he is begging, doing whatever he can, to impress and convince Hades to let him rescue his love.

This aria demonstrates some of the key characteristics of what would become mature “Baroque” style music. It’s undeniably in a key, not a church mode, and that key pitch is made constantly clear in the continuo. It features a very long, decorated melodic line, and at any given time this line is either the main feature, or not happening at all. The singer and orchestra are juxtaposed; when he sings, the continuo plays unobtrusive chordal accompaniment, and when he doesn’t, the rest of the ensemble comes in with a more active response. This texture difference between singing versus not singing is consistent.

It’s important to note as well the virtuosity and grand scale of the accompanying ensemble. There are cadenzas on the trumpet (which is also featured in the overture), violin, and lute. The continuo is enormous: two harpsichords, double harp, 2 theorbos (lutes), two pipe organs, three gambas and a reed organ. Many of these instruments aren’t used now, but have modern sibling instruments that are, so the sound of the ensemble is particularly unique but also almost-familiar to our ears.

I hope you enjoy this very different sound than you might associate with opera. Opera has come a long way, but this is how it started, and I think it’s equally compelling to use embellishments like these as it is to sing with a modern style. If you enjoy this aria, do check out the rest of the opera, and his other two surviving operas. I especially recommend “The Coronation of Poppea,” which has some of the most strikingly beautiful arias and daring use of dissonance that Europe would have ever seen before.

The two-faced Renaissance

Welcome back to Listening Club for our second installment of the Renaissance. We know after our previous entry about the paramount importance of the Christian church in the development of early Western music, and we discussed what people listened to at church, at least in the Catholic parts of Europe during the Renaissance.

But people did more than attend mass, especially in the Renaissance when hot topics like science, humanism and a revived interest in ancient Greece stirred the church so much that it split. People equated music with light entertainment as much in the Renaissance as they do now, just without the technology to make a playlist out of their favorites! It’s safe to say that for every sacred work being composed during the Renaissance, there was probably a secular madrigal, perhaps an entire book of them, composed as well.

Madrigals versus Motets

A madrigal (or chanson, lied, etc) is a short secular work that is arguably a direct ancestor of the modern pop or folk song. The madrigal is essentially the secular version of the motet, the motet being about sacred material (remember Sicut Cervus?) and the madrigal being about love, loss, comedy and other aspects of daily life.

Most Renaissance composers created both sacred and secular music. I selected our works for today’s entry based on whose secular music sounded most different to their sacred music. It’s no coincidence that they are two of the most celebrated composers: Josquin and Orlande de Lassus.

Josquin des Prez

Known affectionately as Josquin, he is a towering figure in Western music, responsible for an enormous output of both sacred and secular music, vocal and instrumental. The central figure of the Franco-Flemish school of composition, he solidified what Guillaume Du Fay and Orlande de Lassus would continue, and it is with these figures that we can really see a “French” style gaining its own voice separate from the cultures surrounding it. If you enjoy Debussy and Ravel, thank Josquin for starting things off on the right foot for them.

“Sacred” Writing: Miserere Mei, Deus

First, a disclaimer that Josquin’s “Miserere Mei, Deus” is technically based on both sacred and secular text, and it shows the influence of politics even in sacred writing, but we’re talking about secular music today anyway, right? Josquin’s setting of Psalm 51 also uses a meditative text inspired by Psalm 51, written by a fellow composer and reformer, Girolamo Savonarola, during his incarceration and torture. It was in Savonarola’s memory, after his highly controversial execution, that this work was commissioned. Just a few tips to keep in mind as you listen:

  • Savonarola disliked the lack of text clarity in imitative music, so Josquin chose sparse texture for this work. Often, only two or three voices at once will sing long, unified rhythms so the text remains easy to understand and the tone is meditative.
  • The melody given to the title text, “Miserere Mei, Deus” is a slow rhythmic figure that only uses two neighboring pitches, which also keeps the character chantlike and somber.
  • In the first part, each refrain of the title text (Miserere mei, Deus) steps downward in pitch—a clever, subliminal aspect to the music’s depiction of depression.

Secular Writing: El Grillo

After listening to Miserere Mei Deus, prepare for a very jarring change! El Grillo translates to “The Cricket,” which explains this short, sarcastic and silly madrigal better than most analysis can. The tempo is fast, the language is vernacular (Italian) instead of Latin, and the lyrics are:

El grillo è buon cantore
Che tiene longo verso.
Dalle beve grillo canta.
Ma non fa come gli altri uccelli
Come li han cantato un poco,
Van de fatto in altro loco
Sempre el grillo sta pur saldo,
Quando la maggior el caldo
Alhor canta sol per amore.

The cricket is a good singer
Who can hold long notes.
He sings all the time.
But he isn’t like the other birds,
Once they’ve sung a little bit
They go somewhere else,
The cricket stands firm,
When it’s very hot out
He sings for the love of it.

When you listen, you’ll notice lots of “word painting,” just as we discussed with earlier works, but this time for comedic effect. Contemporary urban living dampens this joke since we rarely hear crickets over cars and other modern noises, but in the 15th and 16th centuries, the world was much quieter and crickets probably kept many a person awake.

Some word painting examples:

  • “Longo verso” is part of a drawn-out cadence to illustrate, literally, long notes.
  • “Dalle beve grillo canta” is repeated between duets of voices and then again with “dalle” repeated in all voices to bring attention to just how much the cricket sings!
  • “Quando la maggior el caldo” uses longer note values to illustrate the feeling of being out in the heat, presumably made even worse by having to listen to the cricket.
  • Josquin brings great attention and ornamentation to “amore” since it would get similar attention in a less sarcastic setting. The fact that all of this ornamentation is rushed at the quick tempo adds even more sarcasm.

All silliness aside, this is still crafted with a mastery of harmony and following all necessary “rules” of the time period, and sounds pleasing to the ear even with no attention to the lyrics or the jokes. This is what makes Josquin the celebrated master that he was!

Orlande de Lassus

A generation after Josquin, Lassus continued the work that Josquin started and composed in the “mature” style of Franco-Flemish polyphony. This just means that the listener might hear a more familiar sound to his works; the seven church modes were falling out of fashion and late Renaissance composers tended toward what we know now as Major or minor keys. If you’d like to hear an example of Lassus’ sacred work, I recommend any of his masses or “Tristis et anima mea,” a beautiful motet that explores deep sadness in a similar way to Josquin’s “Miserere.” I will leave that with you since we’ve discussed lots of ways to listen to sacred music.

Secular Music: “Bonjour et puis quelles nouvelles”

This madrigal is all about a near-universal vice, harmless gossip and small talk. You go to the market in the morning, encounter some neighbors and friends (or “friends”), make some conversation and even add in some self-deprecating humor. It’s a timelessly relatable text.

Bon jour, et puis, quelles nouvelles?
N’en sçauroit on de vous avoir?
S’en brief ne m’en faictes sçavoir,
J’en feray de toutes nouvelles.

Puis que vous estes si rebelles,
Bon vespre, bonn nuict, bon soir,
Bon jour!

Mais si vous cueillez des groyselles,
Envoyez m’en; car, pour tout voir,
Je suis gros: mais c’est de vous veoir
Quelcque matin, mes damoyselles;
Bon jour!

Good day, and then, what news?
Would you know any of that?
Make it known to me if you have it,
I will make known to you all news.

As you are so rebellious,
Good dusk, good night, good evening,
Good day!

But if you gather some redcurrants
Send them to me; for, for all to see,
I am fat: but it is to you to see
one morning, my ladies;
Good day!

Like Josquin, Lassus is such a talented composer that, while making this a beautiful, lighthearted piece to listen to even with no knowledge of the lyrics, he commands the musical aspects to work hard, reflecting words and the general tone of the lyrics at every opportunity.

  • The word “Bonjour” is treated with a recurring bell-like quality and repeated many times so that it stands out among the other words. Musically it stays in our ear, but it also makes sense since greetings like “hello” would be heard most over other conversation as people meet in a public place.
  • The “verse” words that follow are said with haste, imitated heavily, and are sung quietly, as if gossiped!
  • The character darkens slightly as singer calls someone “rebelles,” which reflects that word’s significance in a good story.
  • “Bon soir” also has a more meditative quality to reflect its contrasting meaning to the much-repeated “bonjour,” which makes a quick return as the refrain.

More hushed conversation ensues, with a similar quality to that of the first “verse” of gossip. We end with a final greeting which could have comedic intent as well as musical closure. It’s another “bonjour” instead of goodbye, perhaps the singer has simply moved on to the next listener!

Many other Renaissance composers had both sacred and secular music in their output, so the supply of madrigals, chansons and lieder is vast. These silly songs put a smile on our face even now, and show how relatable a time period as far-removed as the Renaissance actually is. I hope you enjoy listening and find this evolution of the folk/pop song as interesting as I do!

Early Music and the Renaissance

Welcome to our first installment of Listening Club. As we discussed this concept it became clear that in order to contextualize Western music of any time period, we’ll need to know its basic ingredients. In other words, we’re going to have to go very, very far back. Bear with us.

Generally we say that Western music as we know it began during the Middle Ages in Europe. Its evolution is linked directly to rise of the Christian church. Monks would recite holy text several times daily, and the unified chanting began taking on melodic inflections. This sung chant is called plainchant

If you’d like to listen to some plainchant, we recommend works by Hildegard von Bingen. Her chants use a beautifully wide range of pitch and show that composers were already attempting to express the emotions of the text they were singing. Hildegard is also the earliest known female composer in the West!

Following a natural course, voices began taking on different roles instead of singing one melody in unison. Organum combines a stationary voice with one or more additional voices that move to other pitches. If you’d like to hear how this sounds, we recommend Perotin’s setting of “Viderunt Omnes.” You will hear one low pitch clearly while several others dance around it.

It’s still related to the plainchant that came before, but also shows evidence of the next evolutionary stage…

Polyphony

Polyphony is several voices singing different moving parts at once. Each singer’s part is active, moving between several pitches, and the harmonies formed by the parts singing together are rich with color. 

Polyphony reached its height in the Renaissance, when Medici popes and wealthy kings commissioned lavish, rich settings of masses and biblical texts. After the Protestant Reformation, a rift occurred between the Roman school, setting music to Latin text, and the vernacular settings of text in Protestant-ruled countries. We will look at one masterpiece from each of these sides of Europe.

Palestrina: Sicut Servus

Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina represents the culmination of “Roman school” polyphony. Sicut Cervus is a 4-voice setting from his second book of motets. A motet is a short polyphonic piece that sets biblical text to music.

The recording I recommend is the Cambridge Singers.

With any piece of music that has words, the words are of great importance because the great composers of this and any period of music attempt to emulate the mood of the words as they are sung.

Here are the words to Sicut Servus, the beginning of Psalm 42. 

“Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te Deus.”

“As the deer long for the springs of water, so my soul longs for you, oh God.”

As you listen to the music and read the words, notice how the melody rises and peaks at the word “fontes,” or springs. The voices meander up and down significantly as the voices say “aquarum” as well. This is Palestrina’s depiction of cascading water! 

Also take note of the points in which the harmony seems unstable. This disagreement, also known as dissonance, occurs when simultaneous pitches do not agree with one another harmonically, and it is a powerful tool when used deliberately. The word that consistently occurs in dissonance is “desiderat,” or “longing,” which makes sense given the meaning of that word. 

Finally, there is a third word in the latter half of the motet that we hear very clearly for three reasons.

  • It has the same rhythm each time it’s said, so it sticks in our ear
  • It is repeated or imitated between the different voices, at the top of each voice’s range
  • It is always part of a suspension, meaning the harmony changes but the voice in question hangs on to the previous harmony for a moment longer, building and releasing tension. 

This word is “anima,” or soul. Again, one can see why a composer would want to pay special attention, especially since this particular soul is longing!

Finally, we hear Deus, God, only at the very end, as part of a strong and reiterated cadence. Again, makes sense.

We hope you enjoy Sicut Servus and give it a few listens with all this in mind. It’s a stunningly beautiful work even if you don’t know these details, but knowing them adds an entirely new level of appreciation for Palestrina’s craftsmanship.

If you’re excited about Roman polyphony (we sure are), there is an excellent Spotify playlist of Palestrina works filed under their Composer Weekly series. His mass for the coronation of Pope Marcellus is another excellent example of his talent.

Thanks for reading. That was several hundred years of music; let’s have a rest!

Listening Club: Music in Isolation

The unprecedented measures being taken worldwide to control the COVID-19 epidemic are giving the average person much more free time, solitude, and anxiety than they probably planned on having during this otherwise beautiful early Springtime. Many of us are using our unexpected time to pursue hobbies, get back in touch with friends, learn a new skill or focus on our health and fitness. Hopefully we also see opportunities each day to encourage ourselves and others, be it with logistical help, a chat or even a simple greeting. In this optimistic spirit, LGMS invites you to join our new Listening Club.

LGMS Listening Club is a new series we hope will be both enjoyable and informative for readers who’d like to learn more about what’s coined as “Western Art Music” or “Classical Music.” It has a problematic reputation of being high-brow and excessively complex, so we’d like Listening Club to dispel this myth, inform our readers so they feel prepared to listen to art music, and help our undisputed favorite genre of music reach a wider audience.

Many people who enjoy art music already may not be aware of its diversity. It surprises most people to learn that something as simple as calling this genre “Classical Music” isn’t quite correct. Technically, the Classical period was only about 70 years long, and while well-known composers like Mozart and Beethoven wrote during this time, most other popular composers such as Bach, Debussy and Tchaikovsky don’t belong to this period at all. More on that later.

The average song on the radio is 3 minutes long, whereas the average symphonic work has several parts and lasts between 30 and 50 minutes. Most operas and ballets are still longer. Even a classically trained musician needs to listen actively, using background knowledge about the art form, to maintain interest for that long. We’ll outline a robust variety of tools with which any and all listeners can practice active listening and enjoy music more.

Listening Club posts will explore one work of art music per post, and will attempt to give equal attention to contextual/theoretical elements and to the more intuitive reasons we enjoy that particular work. We will write so that the post can be read while listening to that work. We will recommend some recordings that we enjoy since several exist of the same work, but any recording you prefer will be fine. The more recordings you listen to, the more evident the performer’s interpretive choices will become. This is when art music gets the most interesting, when many people interpret the same piece of music and manage to make it sound different than how anyone else plays it!

We hope you enjoy Listening Club, and we are open to suggestions for works to feature and topics to cover. Please use our contact page to submit your suggestions and requests. We hope out readers emerge from the isolation period knowing a bit more about art music and curious to explore it further!

ABRSM Clarinet Grade 1 scales and arpeggios practice play-alongs

To help students polish their scales and arpeggios, I have created a practice play-along routine. The way to use these recordings is very simple. I will play a passage notated in small notes and you will repeat it after me while keeping time.

A couple of things to note:

  • you can choose either to play natural, harmonic or melodic scale in the minor key
  • in scales the beat is a crotchet and you are playing quavers, whereas in arpeggios the beat is a quaver and you are playing quavers

F major

G major

A minor

Feeling comfortable with sight-reading

Sight-reading is often one of the most worrying parts of an exam or performance; this fear of the unknown is hard to surpass even for the most experienced musicians. Luckily, there are a few things that we can do to prepare ourselves and use the adrenaline rush in a more positive sense.

When boiled down, sight-reading is essentially recognition of patterns on the page. The more complex these patterns are, the more difficult it is for our brain to recognise them. Some patterns are more recognisable than others and their priority (notes, rhythms, dynamics etc) changes depending on the type of the piece.

Start off by scanning the complete piece of music in front of you, recognising as many individual elements, or “ingredients,” from it as possible. Here is our first example:

1. Scanning the piece and recognising the ingredients

To do this, use a template such as this series of questions.

1. Key and clef – What tonality is this piece in? What are the most common accidentals of this tonality and are they present? What clef is defining the notes we are reading?

2. Metre and rhythm – What is the metre of the piece? How many beats are there in one bar? What rhythmical values are the notes, and do patterns exist?

3. Character – What is the title of the piece and how does it affect the character and the speed of the performance? What are the dynamics and how do they contribute to the overall character? Who is the composer and do we know anything about their style?

2. Defining the areas of attention

We already have lots of information before even playing a note of the piece. Identifying consistencies can also help us summarize and stay grounded as we play. Here, the consistencies are the tempo indication moderato, time signature 4/4, treble clef, and key of G major. The dynamic forte is also consistent for the duration.

3. Observing the consistent patterns in the piece

When observing the note values, we notice our first anomaly. The first three bars have the same rhythmical pattern of one minim and two crotchets whereas the last bar has a different rhythm of two quavers, one crotchet and one minim.

4. Looking out for anomalies, differences

Having identified several patterns and thoroughly prepared, one should stay calm while choosing their speed of performance. Regardless of the tempo marked, it is important to balance the character of the piece with the confidence to perform without stopping. For example, if the marked tempo is too fast for you to play well, don’t be afraid to slow down slightly but not so much that the piece no longer sounds “fast”. This delicate balance can be found with practice and experience!

At this point we have done everything we could in our preparation and have understood all the material that the piece consists of. This gives us confidence, which is (more than) half the battle of sight reading. Again, the top priority is not to stop, even while missing some details along the way, and not to react to errors as they happen. A convincing performance in sight-reading doesn’t have to be 100% precise as long as it maintains a steady pulse, is in the character of the piece, and is done with confidence.

Campagnoli, Caprice no. 3

“Moto Perpetuo”

Just an initial glance at this Caprice will tell you all you need to know: this one is for dexterity and endurance. Pieces of this style, a never-ending stream of notes, are called “moto perpetuo” which translates to “perpetual motion.” Both your hands and your brain are truly in perpetual motion here, and it’s akin to a sprint workout. Good in moderation, but also easily overdone.

“Moto perpetuo” provides the perfect opportunity to refine one’s practice technique because of the danger of wasting enormous amounts of practice time. I’ve had to face head on the fact that even as a professional, I’ve still fallen into the temptation of practicing this badly: running it, over and over, faster and faster, without much attention to details. This is a perfect recipe not only for wasting time, but also for getting worse at discerning good technique and intonation. Therefore, let’s approach this one carefully so we reap only the benefits, of which there are many, and avoid the pitfalls.

The Power of Habit

Our brains are remarkable at learning patterns quickly. After just one run through of a piece, the brain has already taken in massive amounts of information and has subconsciously set the bar for how the piece is supposed to sound. If this first run through was inaccurate, rhythmically sloppy, out of tune and otherwise, that is also becoming part of your brain’s version of how this should be played.

Just this week I discovered that in bars 15 and 16, I had been letting myself get away with imprecise shifts which made the ascending D major scale in the bass out of tune. This was after many, many repetitions of the passage in the context of run throughs, so it will take at least that many slow, discerning repetitions, in incrementally larger chunks of context, in order to erase my brain’s current habit and replace it with a new one.

So mathematically, mindless practice followed by corrective practice will equal more than double the practice time to learn a piece to the same standard as one could with slow, disciplined practice from the start. It feels pedantic and uninspiring to do this at first, which is why even with all this knowledge in the forefront of one’s mind, it’s so tempting to jump into the deep end and start with a quick tempo. Like any workout or diet, discipline is required and will save you time, and heighten your sense of accomplishment, in the long run.

Worth the Effort

Once you feel mentally ready to learn this as slowly as you must in order for everything to be precise, in tune and with good tone, this etude will reward you. It will make you a more poised sight reader, it will improve your facility with extended stays in upper positions, and it will train your eye to look simultaneously at the task at hand and a few notes ahead. It will help you to be more confident when you next open a piece and see overwhelming numbers of small, black notes. And, with short bursts of slow, focused practice, you can be done with this and move on much more quickly than you think.

Moto perpetuo is polarizing: if you practice mindfully, you will improve quickly and in many areas, but if you practice mindlessly it will deteriorate your sense of precision and accuracy. I would go as far as to say, if you aren’t prepared to learn this piece with discipline, save yourself the step down in your playing and do not learn it at all! Come back to it when you’re in the right mental space and it will reward you then.

Practice Tips

Here are ways to discipline your practice with moto perpetuo and isolated passage work:

  • long-short or short-long rhythms as opposed to straight notes. So, instead of six sixteenth notes at a time, think of three sets dotted rhythms.
  • Choose one note out of six to make longer, and the other five normal length. Rotate through each of the six in each group, so first lengthen every first of six, then every second, etc.
  • Use these first two suggestions with groups of four, if applicable. I specified groups of six because of the meter of Caprice no. 3, but the majority of passage work occurs in groups of four notes to a beat.
  • Change the bowing. In this case, try separated bows instead of slurs.
  • Isolate anywhere with a shift. Use guide fingers to map shifts precisely.
  • For a particularly difficult passage, practice it out of context first, then gradually add small chunks of material from before (one beat, one measure, then two beats or two measures, etc) so that you get many repetitions of the difficult moment in context. Most difficult passages are only difficult because of what happens immediately before.
  • Consistently play with a metronome and stay at least 5 BPM slower than what is comfortable.
  • Listen carefully to intonation with patterns like scales or arpeggios. These patterns may be in parallel oblique motion with other notes, or even other patterns, in between, so they may not be immediately obvious.

I will be taking my own advice much more seriously with my re-learning of this Caprice. I hope these thoughts are also helpful to you!

Learning how to play an instrument has no age limit!

Playing an instrument is an exciting idea, but learning how to do it often daunting, especially for adults. However, the fear of learning a new instrument can be overcome by understanding the benefits of music. I chose some examples from my individual teachings and my recent involvement at a festival to depict how interacting with music can positively impact adults in different stages in their lives.

Teaching adults in the studio

Eagerness to learn

Since its conception, our studio had attracted a number of adults students. Personally, teaching them has always been a real delight. This delight comes from the enthusiastic spirit, curiosity and passion they bring each lesson. When an adult shows for a lesson, they really want to be there. Their focus is higher than the one of the children and they can therefore understand concepts in simple words and maintain activity exciting for longer. However, the high levels of intellect can cause that they create problems where there aren’t any. As a teacher I have to make sure that the activities are not taken too seriously and that we can achieve a beginner’s mind perspective.

Previous experience: advantage or curse?

Sometimes adults have already had previous knowledge of other instruments and possess knowledge of music theory and still want to learn another instrument. This can be a great advantage, but it can encourage underestimation of goals and lack of criticism. In those cases I channel their knowledge in the flowing and stimulating manner, which results in smoother progress.

Teaching adults in a festival

Each year Dartington Festival attracts hundreds of avid amateur musicians who are joined by professional coaches in creating a positive and social learning atmosphere. I recently enjoyed my second summer there as a performer and coach, and was reminded of the unique ways adults can benefit from learning an instrument. Seeing every participant approach music making with such enthusiasm and joy encouraged me to convey my musical ideas further and advocate music learning for adults.

Heaps of creativity

Learning an instrument expands the imagination and encourages creativity in adults; both of these traits often dull as we age and grow accustomed to repetitive work and lifestyles. Adults can also connect sensory experiences with more refinement than children; music often calls for simultaneous use of sight, touch, hearing and even smell. Regarding creative input, adults have advantage of their life experience, which serves as a source of inspiration. I’m particularly envious of one participant in Dartington who worked for years in criminology. His real-life examples of suspense are limitless and, consequently, the ways to express them in music!

Maximising through reciprocity

Lessons with adults are therefore filled with knowledge and experience that they bring to them. It’s a symbiotic environment where the input is reciprocal and learning is even more productive. While teaching adults I receive perspective from their lives and professions which enriches and broadens my way of thinking. I also work to channel their knowledge in particular fields to develop their musical understanding.

Heightening life skills

Adult students quickly realise that rehearsing and performing strongly resembles a natural human conversation. Through this discovery they radically diminish their performance anxiety, become more attentive in conversations and develop their awareness for other people. During the week in Dartington this was especially notable during chamber music coachings. Participants of one group especially showed heightened levels of compromising, cooperation and support for each other after rehearsing together for several days.

Improving our well-being

I am happy that I was able to witness so many adult musicians supporting classical music by actively taking part in it. With some participants being over eighty years of age it made me realise that learning music really has no age limits; it can immediately improve one’s well-being regardless of where they are on their life path. Each adult learner that I have encountered so far, let it be in individual lessons or in my recent visit at the festival, was a proof that music changes something deeper within us. Yes, learning a musical instrument is a demanding task, but the rewards that making music brings in our lives are more than worth the effort.

Campagnoli, Caprice no. 2

Reflections on practicing the second of Campagnoli’s Caprices

There’s no time like Summer to make headway on my Campagnoli project. Summer for classical musicians is often a mix of relaxation and opera playing at one of the many Summer opera festivals across the UK. When performing the same repertoire every evening it’s easy to fall into a rut with personal practice, so my Campagnoli work provides much-needed motivation. I’ve worked through 10 of the caprices so far but what I particularly enjoy is going back to review the older ones, since they can always be even better, before digging into the most current. With this method I’ve done caprice no. 2 on and off for several weeks now and am encouraged by the noticeable improvement every time.

Caprice no. 2 in G Major (ish)*

I say “ish” because, although we start in G Major, we don’t stay there long and we don’t return to it. This is one of the challenges of this highly segmented caprice, keeping our ear flexible to what ends up being a different key for each repeated section, and still more keys in the more fluid Piu Mosso.

Campagnoli’s caprices seem to employ a few favorite formats, and no. 2 is one of them: a chain of 8(or 4)-bar phrases in repeat brackets, followed or preceded by a more through-composed section. Here we have the chain of repeats first (Andante con moto), and the more fluid section second (Piu Mosso).

Since the Andante Con Moto is already broken into pieces for us, I’ll use that format to add my comments, labeling bars 1-8 as section 1, bars 2-16 as section 2, bars 17-20 as section 3 and bars 21-24 as section 4.

  • Section 1: G Major. A great example of how dynamics can affect intonation on certain parts of the viola. The fingering in bar 3 is challenging to play in tune regardless of dynamic, even more so when marked p (piano, quietly) as it is here. This is because on the D, G and C strings, it is difficult to get the fundamental to sound clearly when in high positions. High positions shorten the length of the string, and the thicker the string, the more easily it will choke. Smart bow use is essential to find the exact speed, contact point and pressure required to make such a short, thick string make a clear pitch.
  • Section 2: e minor. After such a tongue twister in the previous bars, it can be a challenge just to find a solid base in a new key, and in second position. String crossings are the featured technique here, first with a 2-2 bowing pattern and then with 3-1 and 1-3, both very lopsided physically to play. To make these sound even and cohesive, but also respect that it makes musical sense to bring out the bass note, is a delicate balance.
  • Section 3: C Major. With these caprices I try to adhere to the bowings, since I know they are there to be practiced in and of themselves. Here I have made a small exception. I start up bow as it suggests, but I split the first two beats of bar 18, down and up, so that the f (forte, loud) entry on beat 3 is down bow, then hook the entire fourth beat of bar 19 on an up bow . It feels natural and more like a bowing I’d use “in real life” if I were given a passage like this to prepare. The fourth finger extension is also noteworthy, not just for reaching far enough to get the F, but for trying only to move fourth finger, avoiding the temptation to shift the entire hand. If that does happen, then the thing to practice is coming back down far enough that the first position notes are well placed and not sharp.
  • Section 4: I could always use more practice with thirds. I appreciate that this also throws in an obligatory harmonic double stop on the G and C strings, requiring extra care with bow use and clarity as in section 1. There’s another fourth finger extension and again, the reaching up is challenging, but equally so is coming back down.

In the Piu Mosso section, the tempo is quicker and the mood is quite different. We have triplets instead of the marchlike rhythms we had previously, and that should indeed come across as a contrasting mood as we play. Expecially glitzy would be the suggested fingering in bar 29 (bar 5 of the Piu Mosso), to which I’ve had to add a reminder “4” to which helps remind myself that such an unusual fingering is indeed about to happen! I take some “virtuosic time” in that bar so that I can enjoy all the work that went into getting up to 7th position (extended!) so abruptly.

Musically this is a simple sequence of arpeggios that pass through a different key each bar, so it is a chance to get creative with where you feel inclined to take time or flow through. This could change every time you play it and that’s what makes it fun!

The final line suggests another display of glitz with a fingering that passes quickly through several positions in a key that is not particularly easy to play anyway (E Major) due to its “home base” in second position and not first. And, like octaves and fourths, I’ll always have room to improve with fifths, and the last couple of bars offer a valuable opportunity to practice them.

And so (never) ends my journey through caprice no. 2; I hope it was helpful to you. Next time with no. 3, prepare for moto perpetuo, meaning lots and lots of notes, going by very quickly. I’ll need a breather before that post!

Paul Harris: Simultaneous Learning

Paul Harris is considered one of the most eminent music educators in the UK. In his book Simultaneous Learning he introduces a teaching approach which benefits pupils as well as teachers. It is a philosophy that breaks music down into manageable aspects and teaches multiple aspects at once, all while maintaining a positive atmosphere. Here I will summarize the main aspects of the book and comment on how it has positively influenced my own teaching.

Pillars of musicianship

Harris believes that musicianship can be achieved by carefully observing and developing these four “pillars:” posture, phonology, pulse and personality. Simultaneous Learning is full of activities and lesson ideas which apply these concepts to both learning and teaching music .

Here are more details about each of the pillars.

Pulse relates to the understanding of metre, internalisation and ensemble playing. Strong acquisition of pulse portrays a musical idea to listeners and other fellow musicians in an understandable and convincing manner. To develop pulse, we include clapping, counting aloud, whisper-counting, internalisation and using other percussive instruments or sounds to create variety.

Phonology is referring to all the qualities of the sound produced. It encompasses sound control, colour of the sound and general aural perception. Improvement of phonology is achieved through exploration of pupil’s voice and it’s connection to the instrument, developing sensitive intonation and continuously observing the quality of dynamic range and articulation.

Posture concerns the awareness of one’s own body and the efficient use of it. Exploring aspects of posture does not only ensure smooth technical progress in music, it also improves pupil’s general well-being and prevents long-term injuries. Poor posture weakens other pillars of musicianship, especially phonology. Teachers should instill this connection between sound and posture in the student, inspiring the student to maintain good posture instinctively for the sake of their sound.

Personality is discovering a pupil’s imagination. Considerate application of imagination brings character to a piece of music and makes it easier for the performer and the listener to relate to. We can explore this through discussion about the title of the piece, noticing instructions given by composers, creating lyrics for a song or by improvising.

Core Principles of Simultaneous Learning

Harris views Simultaneous Learning not as a method, but rather as a guidance in the development of our teaching form. While the four pillars (posture, phonology, pulse and personality) refer more to the student, summarising what a proficient student should be able to do, Harris’ Core Principles are by contrast aimed at the teacher. These, which I will explain below, guide the teacher in how to build the “pillars” in their students in a positive, holistic way.

Teach proactively – Always following the sequence of activities, making the learning process as smooth and entertaining as possible. Every activity should be carefully thought through and fit in a bigger picture of a skill we want our pupils to achieve. For example, when we are improving our student’s pulse, we need to sequence clapping, counting aloud, internalising, whispering, miming and other activities in a suitable succession that fits their current understanding and ability.

Teach through the “ingredients” of the piece – The activities should be based on the unique elements of the piece the student is learning. These “ingredients” depend on the piece’s difficulty, and can include a title, tempo/character indication, key signature, time signature and different pitch and rhythmic values. In Simultaneous Learning it is highly recommended that these “ingredients” are introduced well before the music is put in front of the students, requiring extra foresight from teachers.

Make connections – Our goal should be that the student recognises how musical ingredients connect and form various musical ideas. They might recognise how dynamic relates to character, how articulation relates to metre or how scales relate to technical proficiency – possibilities are endless. By making one connection at a time pupils gradually build their own musicianship.

Empower, don’t control or judge – The attitude that ideas are conveyed is paramount. As teachers we must secure that every lesson is a positive experience that eventually leads to musical independence of each student. Making sure that everything is clearly understood will result in our students succeeding consistently. We ask questions, carefully listen and observe for any non-verbal signals such as posture or facial expressions.

Other important aspects of Simultaneous Learning

Understanding clearly and securely

Things are really understood when they are in our subconsciousness and we can access them at any point in time. Harris gives us an example how this manifests in sight-reading. When our working memory deciphers the scribbles on the page it refers to what we already know and understand. A musician is only able to sight-read well if all the musical elements that he is processing have been clearly introduced, understood, stored in the long term memory and regularly revisited.

Building a positive atmosphere

The essence of Simultaneous Learning works best when a conducive environment for learning has been established. Lessons should be clearly structured and filled with engaging, fun activities. Such activities flow seamlessly from one another and are aimed to encourage our student’s creativity and musicality. Teachers should always ensure that pupils achieve as this will improve pupils confidence and prevent fear of failing.

Going on learning journeys

In every lesson we aim to make connections between the ingredients of the piece. When these connections follow in an organic sequence they create what Harris refers to as a learning journey. While on this journey teachers are encouraged to find balance between single focused activities and longer sections. A single focused activity tackles a particular weakness that we might notice with the pupil and is then connected with other single focused activities and put into context of a larger trajectory.

A teaching revolution

At first it seemed daunting to include Harris’ method in my teaching. After giving it a few tries, students have responded positively and made faster progress. The most convincing moment occurred in the second lesson of a beginner student, during which we explored first few notes on the clarinet. I based my call and response exercises and clapping patterns on the piece’s “ingredients,” and the pupil was able to perform the piece by the end of the lesson with real confidence and security!

Paul Harris’ work on developing Simultaneous Learning can be deemed a “teaching revolution” for its holistic and meticulous approach that constantly energises, engages and entertains. It also favours quality over quantity, which could also be called revolutionary in today’s competitive learning environments. I am grateful that I have had a chance to learn about Simultaneous Learning and put it into my practice of teaching.

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