pianist rants
The blog is moving to www.jennaristila.com/blog. See you there!
2 Aug 2020
The Blog Is Moving
17 Jun 2020
Audition Tips for Singers (from a Pianist)
Art is happening here. |
Many people dislike auditions, and I can't blame them - it's unpleasant business trying to convince others you're great in six minutes or less. To make the experience a bit more pleasant, I thought I'd share some basic insights on how to prepare. I didn't think anyone needed to be told some of these things, but all of this I've lived through. Someone somewhere went to an audition and wasn't aware, so here's to you. Next time you'll know.
0. Make sure you know what you're auditioning for. If they want to hear "newer" repertoire but the advertisement does not include the word "musical", maybe just check what the genre is. Pro tip: contemporary classical music differs somewhat from Let It Go.
1. Choose a selection of songs. They might want to hear excerpts from two or three, so bring more scores than one. It's very likely the pianist isn't a walking jukebox and will not be able to play arias from memory - and even if they could, why should they help you get the job when you've already proved yourself to be an unprepared twat.
2. Usually it's wise to sing basic repertoire. The jury likes to hear stuff they know, and pianists like to play stuff they know. With arias like Pamina (that you should never sing in auditions by the way, I've been told by a prestigious jury member), Mimi and the Count, it's more likely that you'll get many right notes and chords to support you, in approximately the right tempo.
3. Make the selection varied: Different languages, styles, and characters. Three slow Mozarts in Italian is boring - they heard from the first minute what they need to know about you and Mozart, so move on.
4. Vary styles, not fachs: Not a good idea to bring both tenor and mezzosoprano repertoire (though if you're a very flexible countertenor it might make sense to go for the gold). When you're trying to sell yourself in a short amount of time, it's better to make the story simple and memorable. It also helps if you...
5. ...Dress according to your fach. Basically, if you want to sing trouser roles, wear trousers. (Ta-dah!) Most importantly, please do wear clothes that are your size and shoes you can actually walk in. Smart casual is good, luxury escort maybe not so good.
6. Learn the songs by heart. It's really not okay to bring scores or to have the lyrics on your phone screen. Learning three songs by heart is possible, and it really is the minimum requirement - why on earth would they hire you to do a full opera production if you can't remember six minutes of music?
Now you know what songs to bring and what to wear. Let's take a closer look at the sheet music:
7. Always. Bring. The. Music. For. The. Pianist. Bring it in paper form, unless they specifically ask for a pdf. And if you are offered the chance to send them the music beforehand, ALWAYS TAKE IT. You never know, they might actually practice and make your life much easier. NEVER ASSUME THAT THE PIANIST KNOWS THE PIECE, because they may not, and who will be the loser in that equation? The pianist is hired to play through dozens of arias, and they'll be paid no matter how they scramble through them. You, on the other hand, might get seriously lost if you have to sing on top of wrong chords played at the wrong time, and it's your very own job interview you're messing with.
Personal anecdote: I was accompanying a violin masterclass where I got the repertoire list in advance. One violinist sent the first Brahms sonata, and I practiced it. When the course started, the violinist announced that they had switched the sonata, and are playing number two instead. I asked why they didn't let me know, since I'd practiced a whole sonata for no reason, and would now primavista my way through a second one - it was my first violin masterclass, so my repertoire was limited at best. Turned out the violinist had just assumed that since I'm accompanying a violin masterclass, I would know all the basic repertoire by heart.
The moral of the story: Please don't assume pianists are Gods. Many of them are, but also Gods have to start from somewhere. And in the end, you're the one who'll suffer from your assumption - like the violinist who ended up getting rubbish accompaniments to lessons they'd paid a lot of money for.
8. When printing the sheet music, make sure the paper doesn't have anything else printed on it already. I once had to play trough an aria that looked like it was either contemporary art or a very complex secret code. There was some kind of text file printed upside down on the same pages as the music was. Don't do that.
9. Tape the damn scores. One tape up, one tape down. NOT JUST ONE IN THE MIDDLE - when the pianist is turning the pages, it's much harder to avoid turning multiple ones when the bottom of the score is not taped together. Don't save tape, save the pianist's nerves.
10. Decide where you want to begin, and mark it extremely clearly. Preferably in colour. You do not want to spend four out of your six audition minutes trying to find a suitable spot for the pianist to begin. Even if there's a traditional place where Everybody Knows It Should Begin, just draw a mark. If the aria doesn't have a clear ending, mark that too. AND JUMPS - do not be vague with jumps. Sometimes singers draw just a slightly thicker black line on top of the barline, and then I'm trying to guess - while playing - whether I should be searching for a similar line somewhere or not. Make it red or green or whatever, but make it stand out! Use "VI-DE" or "CUT" and cross out the beginning of the cut big time. Basically mark things in a way that a 5-year-old would understand. Because what's the worst thing that could happen? Will the pianist refuse to play because your markings are too clear?
Last but not least:
11. Greet the pianist. It's weird when the singer makes no eye contact. A bit of basic kindness goes a long way - just look at the pianist, say hello, and after you've sung your stuff say thank you.
And
that's it. You got the job.
2 May 2020
How a Pianist Cheats
Fricka: So ist es denn aus
The beginning I play just as it is. It's simple enough, and everything is within reach. The piano introduction is very short, which is a blessing.
Then I start not playing things. Because the tempo is quite fast, I keep just one line per hand. (When things could be played legato, playing wrong notes is less likely. The more you have to lift your hands from the keyboard, the more risky it becomes.) I do play the first interval on the right hand though, I don't know why I coloured that. It is necessary for the harmony.
Ok this I'm not proud of. I basically only play the yellow stuff, and add some random D major stuff around it. If I'm not alert here, I might also skip the fanfare chords to be on the safe side. But I swear that when I listened to recordings of this, that was basically all you could hear - a strong horn melody and a big D major chord surrounding it. So sorry Wagner. (From the piano bar onwards I play as written.)
At the end of the first line I skip the yellow stuff for clarity (and because that's not so important), but the next bar I try to play as it is. Except the very last triplet octaves - there I tend to leave the lower octave out (B & C sharp) for legato's sake. And here I don't do the grace notes. For that there's no other reason than that I only noticed them now. They're so small I missed them. (Oops.)
When the singer comes in, I skip the middle part because it's a hassle to combine it to the melody. From here on I take quite a few shortcuts with the rhythm, because when this is played in tempo on a piano all those little notes easily start sounding very busy. On an orchestra the feeling is forward going but relatively calm, and I say to myself that I'm just trying to project that. Also I add an octave here and there for sound.
It's quite straightforward from then on. I leave the higher octaves out from the left hand to keep the dynamic lower and to make my life easier, skip the rhythm like before, and leave a note out of the left hand because I can't reach it.
Now we arrive to a beautiful B major section. I simplify the left a lot: Always keeping the bass even though I forgot to color it (always, always keep the bass!), I just play something chord-related in the middle. Here's one version in red of what I might play. To add sound, and to compensate for the left, I fill out some chords in the right hand. The yellow stuff I still leave out.
Here I've skipped two rows, as they're uneventful from cheating perspective. Now the last climax starts building up, and I start making shortcuts again. I play the chord in red, and bring out the left more (plus the half-note B in the right hand), same when it modulates. Then I cut some corners in the left.
This is difficult to explain - here on the first row I come back to the ta-taa -rhythm that I've already used in the right hand. And on the second row I've highlighted the important stuff in red. I add the same rhythm to the right hand chords (my beautiful drawings), and add notes to the chords to fill them up. The same system applies to the beginning of the next page.
In the orchestra - at least in the recordings I heard - the right hand stuff doesn't sound as high as it's written here - so I play the yellow box an octave lower. Then I leave out octaves again (I do not completely hate octaves, guys, I promise!) and then the piece pretty much ends.
So that was Wagner's Fricka, cheated.
26 Apr 2020
COVIDiaries 4 - Stay Positive! ...!!
Napoleon's Grave, my favourite patience. Helps me stay sane. |
This is the time for self-discovery. We all have this amazing opportunity to take a step back, evaluate our lives and truly see what's important. What have you always wanted to do but never had the time for? Running a marathon, creating cutting-edge sculpture, writing a collection of short stories, baking artisan bread? Now's the time to make those dreams come true! Fulfill your inner longings.
8 Apr 2020
COVIDiaries 3 - Easter Edition
The Baroque Babes (and me) |
Two singer colleagues asked me to join them to make music in the time of corona, and yesterday we recorded Stabat mater by Pergolesi. We're publishing it on YouTube as an Easter offering. I'd never heard this Stabat mater before we started rehearsing (shocking, I know) and I thought it would be fun. It was. Here's what I learned in the process:
- When living through a crisis - this pandemic is arguably the biggest one so far in my lifetime - making music together becomes an act of hope, defiance, prayer even. Working on Stabat mater with Johanna and Elli has yet again reminded me of how much I love what I do. (Listen to 'Thank you for the music' by ABBA now and be grateful. Then continue reading.)
- Stabat mater is an insanely beautiful piece when played by a baroque ensemble.
- A piano is not a baroque ensemble. It's important to understand all the implications of this - I didn't. I listened to recordings of ensembles, did my best to imitate them, and quickly discovered that things that sound good with a continuo aren't necessarily applicable to piano playing. Steady, heavy pulse? A robot playing slightly too slow. Walking bass all portato? Directionless shit. Trills together with singers? Not great.
- I understood just how little I had studied baroque - I have played the harpsichord, but pitiably little. I have basically learned enough to know how much out of my depth I am - and knowing this mainly helps in making me aware of how much I'm offending the baroque gods. Whatever I do, it's probably somehow wrong, and who plays baroque music on a piano anyway?
- When you have to baroque as a pianist, however, you've got to pay attention to staccatos. I always end up using them too much and too sharp everywhere, making everything sound light, bright and cheerful. Sometimes it works, but just as often the line and drama disappear, taking the oomph out of the music.
- Trills are hard. "Relax," you tell your fingers, "you've known how to do this since you were ten", but your muscles have already frozen, refusing to co-operate.
- Taping scores is even harder than the trills. This time I copied just some of the pages to avoid page turns, and taped the copies to the score. Well. Not only once but twice I actually managed to tape the upper and lower half of the same paper to different pages. Trying to detach the tape I tore some of the pages and essentially made a huge mess. Finally I managed to tape page 29 next to page 41. I have two masters degrees.
- Recording is energy-consuming business, so bring food. Bananas are the best.
- Buy new tights. If you think the old ones won't break when you start manouvering yourself into them, you're very much mistaken. Counting on a small tear not showing in the video? Of course it will. Forgot to check the colour? No worries, surely no-one will notice how weird your orange legs look compared to the deathlike white of your arms.
- It really is possible to cry so tragically over wrong notes and badly formed phrases that the person who you live with thinks someone has died. (In my defence, I was very tired and hungry, and that's when things get tragic.)
- Things might not sound as shit as they feel like when you play them. We're professionals, so in the end all the music we make sounds quite alright, even if it's not the greatest performance ever. All the embarrassing mistakes I bumbled through in this particular recording are just mistakes, after all. While they make me cringe, they will not destroy all the pleasure another listener gets from the performance. A messed up trill here, an ugly forte there - turns out I'm just human. Who would've thought.
- Looking at the video afterwards I realised that I still have the same mannerism I've had for years now - I tend to rotate in a circle, always counter-clockwise, with varying speed throughout a performance. There I was playing, going round and round. A couple of times I managed to pause the movement and sit still for a phrase or two before continuing my rounds, and that felt like a small victory. Baby steps.
- Concerts are fun. Okay, there was no audience and we didn't actually get paid, but who cares when the piece and the people you work with are awesome. Returning to ABBA I'm saying thank you for the music and wishing you all a happy Easter, while we wait for better times to come.
27 Mar 2020
COVIDiaries 2 - Teaching
The perfect reason to Netflix. |
- Cooked food from an actual cookbook and expected praise from others living in the house. What they really said was "well, I'd never make this again".
- Tried to explain to a neighbour why they would have to protest play their electric guitar a bit less loud while I'm recording Itzy bitsy spider and Mary had a little lamb.
- Bought a long and complicated boardgame to take this relationship stress test to a whole new level.
- Looked at the intellectual books I borrowed from the library before it closed. Couldn't be bothered to openany of them.
- Almost finished knitting a sock.
17 Mar 2020
COVIDiaries 1
Keeping busy... |
In the beginning there was something weird in China. Well, nothing that concerns us. Then yesterday the Finnish government announced that everything will be closed from now until forever. It happened pretty fast. A week ago I was rehearsing Turandot - the premiere would have been the upcoming Saturday. Then they cancelled all performances of more than 500 people. Alright, we thought, we can still go through with this, no need to panic. Other people panicked, however, and the supermarkets ran out of toilet paper, pasta, and crushed tomatoes. (Apparently this is what Finnish people need in case of emergency. Also pea soup cans were popular.) The other person who lives in this house fell into this ruse and also bought the pasta and tomatoes. We can now comfortably feed ten people for a week, but with a very limited diet.
- Clean house, clean mind. Already on Saturday I started to compulsively polish everything. It really helps to make me feel like I'm doing something useful, and it helps me feel like I'm in control, and after it's nicer to think about just how desperate I am in a spotless house.
- Buy wine and spirits. If Alko closes (Finland has a state monopoly on shops that sell strong alcohol), we're fucked. So yesterday we went to buy necessities, aka. gin and red wine, and immediately I was able to breathe a bit more freely.
- Since there's a significantly reduced amount of money coming in, reduce what's going out. I canceled what subscriptions I could, and applied for pause in my student loan payments. At least in Finland you can apply for this for some months if your financial situation gets shaky. Now might be the time to contact your union, too - are there any benefits you're entitled to?
- Make sure you have books. The libraries were open today for the last time in who knows how long, so I filled my bag with books. I recommend a variety - some poetry, something that makes you feel intelligent, and something easy.
- Puzzles help. They calm the mind and give you something to do when there's not much to do.
- If there are more than one of you in your house, make sure at least someone has noise-canceling headphones. They will save your sanity and the relationship.
- You will think this is a great chance to exercise, start yoga and jogging, and build a new you. It won't take you that many days to discover that the new you looks pretty much exactly like the old you who mainly watches netflix and takes naps on the couch. Remember that it's all about taking care of yourself - isn't that what everyone's been saying these past few days? Stay safe and all that jazz. Well. Where am I safer than on my own couch?!
- Follow the news with cynical, noncommittal interest. This too shall pass.