Processing the music of Dvořák
When Steve Copes (who, by the way, has finally revealed his
great hair to the world) asked me to write a blog for the upcoming Accordo
concert, I said no. Why? Because it's terrifying! But in an effort to push my
limits, here I am.
Dvořák is one of my favorite composers. Perhaps it's because
I feel an inherent connection to Czech music being that half my heritage is
from the land of pork, sauerkraut, and dumplings. (The other half is a few
miles off: Japan.) Maybe it has to do with my father playing polka and various
other styles of my people at the piano throughout my childhood, that my
grandfather played the accordion, that I play a random Czech viola, or that Dvořák
and I have the same birthday! Maybe none of the above, but one thing that I do
know about Dvořák is that he wrote from his heart and for the people. His music
is grounded yet expansive and he has his own distinct folk-tinged flavor. When
he came to the States, he was very intrigued by the original music of America,
which stemmed from Native American as well as African American music.
When Ruggero Allifranchini(who, by the way, also has great
Italian hair) suggested we play this piece, I had the same response as anybody
who has had any experience with it. 'Great piece! But . . . but it's so hard! And
we have so little time!' The quartet is in C Major which implies that it's
an easy and manageable key to work with, except that Dvořák turns the corner
harmonically within the first four bars of the piece and keeps turning for the
rest of the piece. This is challenging instrumentally (i.e. uncomfortable), but
it's thrilling for the listener as well as the performer.
I've been asked to write about the process. It's something
I've been thinking about for days because it's not something one can simply
state. If I were to give a simple answer, it would be that we come
prepared to play our notes with a point of view, understanding the style of the
composer, a good idea of the score, and then we cook the ideas together, let it
simmer, then perform. But no artistic process is that simple if you were to
investigate. There is the individual process and there's the group
process. Most performers have their own way of preparing and every group has a
life of it's own. Every person will change the dynamic.
I guess the most consistent goal of a group is to get on the
same page and to trust each other. To speak the same language so we can
musically keep each other on our toes. Every composer and performer has their
own language and sometimes rehearsal feels like one person is speaking Chinese
and the other speaking Italian, but the piece is in French and your mother is
Jewish. Music is amazing because there is almost an endless amount of discovery
to be made and one can search for the meaning of the piece, passage, note,
articulation, bowing, etc, or in what ways to do it, for hours on end. The
process is never over. The art of performing is interesting that way because a
piece will keep revealing new things through searching and time as well as
through your own growth.
That being said, there is something to be said about
overcooking a piece. If you over analyze a piece or pick at one thing too much,
it might backfire on stage. But on the flip side, if you take it too lightly,
it will have no texture or depth. But then again, what was painfully taken
apart once, could give you knowledge and depth for the future performance. Mmmmmm,
this sounds like a cycle. I guess it's all about balance, just like anything
else.
It's really always thrilling to play with Accordo and I hope
everybody enjoys this concert. We are all appreciative of our dedicated
audience members and looking forward to this Monday!
~Guest post from Accordo member Maiya Papach
(Photo credit: Tim Rummelhoff)
