On Critique

“You should have your left foot closer to the pedals.”

“You should have played Liszt instead of Chopin.”

“You’re very musical but you have zero technique.”

“You have a good technique but no personality.”

“Your playing is way too robust for such a delicate piece.”

“You had no dynamic range whatsoever.”

“You’re not together even with yourself.”

“You have to start developing your personality to a different direction.”

“I’m sure you understand why **** deserved to be in the finals instead of you.”

“You play like a schoolgirl.”

“Your final exam was way too easy. It shouldn’t have qualified at all.”

“It’s been so frustrating to teach you, because you don’t seem to be able to learn the simplest things.”

We all have a Library of Hurtful Quotes; these are a random selection from mine. There have been master classes after which I’ve cried in the toilet, and competitions after which I’ve wanted to quit playing. So often I’ve thought I’ll never be good enough. And yet I play. The schoolgirl without personality who can’t learn anything. I play.

As performing musicians we get criticized a lot. Some of it we need, and some hurts like hell. Sometimes these two apply to the same comment. I could give you the context of each of the quotes from my collection – which of them I thought I deserved, and which felt totally uncalled for – but I won’t. Instead I’m asking you to share some quotes from Your Personal Library with me. What kind of sentences do you hear in your head when you’re not sure of yourself? And how do you shut them out?

I’m still learning how not to give a fuck. Taking advice from Nike my goal is to just do it, and take in critique only from those colleagues and friends whom I trust, and who are sincerely trying to help me. And while I’m trying to get there, it would really help if the Whole Classical Music Industry had more warmth and tolerance to it. So please, share a quote or two and remember: a kind word here, an encouraging word there, and who knows, maybe someone will return the favour when you need it the most.

On Second Rate Pianists

How it seems in the Sibelius Academy (and probably any other school of extremely high and super awesome musical ecudation) is that there is one true career path for a pianist, and that is the solitary road to greatness. When I was young and had my bright future still ahead of me, I thought the options were to be a Simple Soloist or a Second Rate Pianist. Guess who I wanted to be… The orchestral instruments have it a bit easier: they can go and play in an orchestra. (Duh.) Pianists can too, of course, but how many Mozart Symphonies have a piano part? There’s not so much to do if you have an instrument mainly created for bored romantic era housewifes to amuse themselves with while their husbands run the country. It’s a great instrument, piano is, but you rarely need twenty of them at once – they’re rather on their own.

I should explain my terminology here:

A Simple Soloist tours the world, performing with orchestras large and small, getting huge bouquets of flowers and playing encores like Träumerei, but in an inventive way that makes the audience faint in admiration. Sometimes a Simple Soloist does chamber music concerts or solo programs that include Serious Pieces by Serious Composers. And obviously the Simple Soloist has won a gazillion competitions and regularly attends master classes in Lugano and New York. They live in hotels, have trophy wives (or partners), and they spend their Christmas holidays with the Barenboims.

A Second Rate Pianist performs on a less regular basis in more near-by places that don’t require hotels or flights. They choose programs that are pleasing to the audience or to themselves, depending on do they want money or self-fulfilment out of the process. Usually Second Rate Pianists make their own posters. (- at least I do, and I use Word. I’ve been told by several people that this is unacceptable, because one can’t make posters with Word, but it’s real and it’s happening. Sorry.) Performing on a less regular basis means less income and fewer trophy wives, so Second Rate Pianists often sustain themselves by doing other music-related things such as teaching or being a rehearsal pianist in opera or ballet for example, or have a completely different job on the side. Second Rate Pianists might have won a competition or two when they were younger, or they might have not. They might have aimed to be a Simple Soloist and failed, or they might have never wanted that in the first place. (Their parents usually wanted them to appear on a magazine cover or two.)

As every pianist knows, there are 0,0001 Simple Soloists to every 1000 Second Rate Pianists out there. So a Second Rate Pianist is really a Normal Pianist with a Normal Career in Music. I wish someone had sat me down in the beginning of my studies and told me this, and helped me find my own path – instead of letting me think that anything less than a Stellar International Career is a disappointment to the holy institution of classical music. As it is, I’ve tried out different stuff, ended up in situations by accident, and formed a career from the bits and pieces that I’ve found interesting and loveable along the way. What my career looks like now is a combination of teaching, vocal coaching, lied recitals, independent opera productions and an occasional chamber music fling. Sometimes there’s more gigs and sometimes fewer. Sometimes I write this blog, sometimes I knit, and sometimes I binge on Netflix.

It wasn’t obvious to me from the beginning, but I think that being a Second Rate Pianist is actually awesome, and there would be a point to spreading this message to young students and helping them find whatever kind of pianist they would love to be. Because the options out there – there are plenty, and they sound pretty first rate to me.

On Performing with Singers - pros and cons

It’s easy to pay attention when singers are singing. They usually wear bright colours, stand in the middle of the stage and make a lot of noise with words – they tell stories. And the pianist? They’re further back, wearing colors that perfectly blend into the grand piano, there are no easily recognizable stories and certainly no words. If they’re playing behind an upright, you might literally not see them at all, until they get up at the end to take a bow.

Performing with singers, the pianists don’t always make it to the spotlight, and that’s annoying – but if we’ll keep ranting about it and won’t take ourselves too seriously, it’s possible not to become bitter. Humour really is the saving thing… and it’s not like we’re heart surgeons, so it’s ok not to have a National Pianist Day.

So, to make my point, here’s a couple of things that a pianist might not love about performing with singers:

1) Your name not appearing anywhere in concert advertising

…or the instrument, for that matter – how’s a person to expect a singer with piano if only the singer is mentioned? It might as well be a mandolin or a marching band.

2) Your name not appearing anywhere in the concert program

This happened to me in a student opera scenes concert. I played through the show, but there was no mention of me having been anywhere near the stage. In the end it turned out alright, though, for the teacher had spotted the students’ mistake, and she bought me a bottle of wine to say sorry. So in the end I was totally cool with that. (And drunk.)

3) People thinking your solo piece is an intermission

In a song recital there’s often a piano piece in the middle so the singer can rest and drink some water. The pianist doesn’t need to rest because she’s a superhero, and therefore plays alone for the audience to enjoy. Sometimes, however, the audience interprets this as an intermission, and happily chats away through the piece. The boldest take out snacks and drinks and have a jolly good time, while the pianist cultivates very dark thoughts.

4) Playing with singers considered “just accompanying”

I’ve often been told that what I’m doing is not as impressive as being a soloist. “But Jenna, you’re not playing, you’re just accompanying!”

“Just so that you know”, I tell these people in my head, “playing the piano parts of songs is a specific skill that has to be learned and it’s ACTUALLY QUITE HARD TO DO WELL. Also, I really am playing the piano even though someone is singing at the same time, and it really is my concert too. If it wasn’t my concert, I WOULDN’T BE THERE.”

Then some things a pianist should love about performing with singers:

​1) Getting to play Christmas songs

No need to explain this one. It’s just plain awesome.

2) Being the superhero

The singer accidentally does something weird – jumps three pages, starts singing too early or too late, or whatever – and you put on your pianist superhero cape and jump in to save them. The audience doesn’t notice anything, and the song continues flowing on like nothing ever happened. You keep a straight face, but inside, you’re glowing.

3) An audience member telling you after a concert that “the piano really is half of the performance”

Yes, I know. But it makes me happy to hear you say it.

4) You’re not alone

Whatever I might complain about, in the end it’s just so rewarding to make music with another human being. Making music is much more fun and fulfilling when you have two perspectives instead of one. Music doesn’t combine your personalities, it transcends them into something that would be quite unreachable on your own. And you get to wear matching outfits.

P.S. If you screw up while someone is singing, people might not notice. So all in all it’s great.