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Several people have asked me to complete the ‘Meet the Artist’ questionnaire myself – so here is my version!
Who or what inspired you to take up the piano and make it your career?
I was a very young child when I started playing the piano (around 5 or 6). There was always music in my home as I was growing up: my father played the clarinet in an amateur orchestra and with various ensembles, and my parents regularly attended classical music concerts and operas (the Welsh National Opera had a residency in Birmingham in the 1970s when we lived there). My paternal grandfather had a wonderful Victorian piano (complete with candelabra) on which he played Methodist hymns and bits of Beethoven (whom he adored) and Haydn. The piano stool was full of songs from the 1930s and 1940s, all speckled with age with that special musty smell. I used to sit next to my grandfather as he played.
The piano, or rather piano teaching, has only been my career for just over 5 years. I worked for 10 years in specialist art bookselling and publishing before I had my son. And I didn’t play the piano for a long time after I left university. Coming back to the piano as an adult was hard, and when I started having lessons again in 2008, I realised how much I hadn’t been taught in my teens. I’ve crammed a great deal of study of technique into the last three years: as a result my playing has improved hugely.
Who or what are the most important influences on your playing?
My music teacher at school was enthusiastic and encouraging, and my friend Michael, owner of a magnificent Steinway Model B, has always supported my playing: he often leaves music on the rack of his piano for me to look at when I visit. Last time it was Schumann’s ‘Kriesleriana’. A few years ago, I would have looked at it and thought “there’s no way I’ll ever be able to play that!”. Now, when I pick up new music, I think “where shall I start?!”.
My current teacher is very supportive and encouraging, and has taught me confidence and self-belief. Through her courses, I have met other pianists and piano students who have helped to broaden my musical horizons.
What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?
Setting up my own piano teaching studio from scratch and learning “how to be a piano teacher”. I have no formal training as a teacher, but when I started teaching I knew how I didn’t want to do it! (remembering dull lessons as a child). Overcoming my lack of confidence about my own playing, trusting my musical instincts (I am horrendously self-critical), and learning how to become a performer have also been important, positive challenges.
Do you have a favourite concert venue?
The Wigmore Hall is my spiritual home, but I also like Cadogan Hall and the Queen Elizabeth Hall. St John’s Smith Square is a beautiful venue, but cold in the winter! Each has its own distinctive atmosphere.
Who are your favourite musicians?
I particularly admire musicians who are able to stand back from the music and allow it to speak, who do not place their personality/ego before the music, and who are able to get to the very heart of what the music is about. My pianistic heroes/heroines are Sviatoslav Richter, John Lill, Mitsuko Uchida (especially in Mozart and Schubert), Murray Perahia (Bach, Chopin and Brahms), Maria Joao Pires (Schubert), Claudio Arrau (Beethoven), Pierre-Laurent Aimard (Messiaen and Liszt). Surface artifice, “look at me” antics, and flashy piano pyrotechnics do not interest me.
What is your most memorable concert experience?
British pianist John Lill playing Chopin’s B-flat minor Sonata at the Southbank Centre in the early 1980s. Lill was in tears as he took his curtain calls, and members of the audience actually threw red roses onto the stage.
A concert of Baroque music in a tiny Byzantine church in Zadar, Croatia, c.1985.
As for my own performances (which are growing more frequent), my Diploma recital in December remains memorable: the setting (a lovely 18th-century room in Trinity College of Music), the pianos (both warm-up piano and concert instrument were fine Steinways), and the recital itself. I was surprised at the tricks one’s mind can play in such an intense and very concentrated situation like a performance: I had several “out of body” moments as I played, and at the end of the Schubert E-flat Impromptu, I recall thinking, “halfway through now – we can go to the pub soon!”. I enjoyed every minute of it, including the river bus trip to and from the college in Greenwich, but the actual performance was very special for me: it confirmed and endorsed all that I do at the piano, day in day out.
What is your favourite music to play? To listen to?
At the moment, I am working on music by Bach, Mozart, Liszt, Debussy, Rachmaninov and Messiaen. As a pianist, I feel it is essential to always have some Bach somewhere in one’s repertoire as his music offers so much: instructional and intellectual. Liszt is a fairly recent discovery for me: I’d avoided learning him for years, fearing it would be just too difficult (not true!). I’ve stayed clear of the more flashy, popular, virtuosic works, preferring to explore his more intimate, spiritual and intellectual music. Likewise, Messiaen is very spiritual and intellectual, and his music puts us in touch with concepts that are far bigger than us. He was also a synaesthete (as I am) which interests me.
My tastes change quite frequently, and I am often inspired to learn something after hearing it in concert or on the radio. I listen to a wide range of music, and my reviewing role for Bachtrack.com has enabled me to enjoy even more fine live music. I feel it’s important to keep one’s ears open to as many musical influences as possible.
What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians/students?
A love of the instrument and its repertoire; that one should strive for accuracy and musicality at all times; that music is for sharing.
How has blogging informed your teaching/playing?
I started this blog originally as a place where I could set down ideas and thoughts I had while at the piano, but it has gradually expanded into something more wide-ranging. I enjoy the exchange of ideas that comes when people leave comments, and the opportunity to share thoughts about music and teaching with other pianists and teachers around the world. The ‘Meet the Artist’ series is proving fascinating, with so many varied, and sometimes very honest, responses.
What are you working on at the moment?
Bach - Concerto in D minor after Marcello BWV 974
Mozart – Rondo in A minor, K511
Debussy – Images: ‘Hommage à Rameau’
Liszt – Sonetto 104 del Petrarca
Messiaen – Prelude No. 2
Rachmaninov – Etudes-Tableaux, Op 33, nos. 2 and 7 (sometimes listed as No. 4 – in E flat)
Read my reviews for Bachtrack.com here
The ‘Meet the Artist’ series continues on this blog: the next interviewee is pianist Leon McCawley.
Pianist, teacher and writer Catherine Shefski studied at Smith College, Massachusetts, and at the Guildhall School of Music & Drama in London, where she was taught by EPTA founder, Carola Grindea. Catherine has performed as a soloist and chamber musician, has taught “virtual” piano lessons, and writes an informative blog, All Piano, with the mission to “make piano lessons relevant for the digital generation”.
During my piano playing “formative” years, age eight to seventeen, I studied with four piano teachers. Two teachers at college and four post-grad brings the total to ten. Each teacher contributed something to my growth as a pianist and as a teacher. I find myself passing along choice tidbits of information to my students, clearing up confusion about musical terminology and offering practice tips.
I’d like to share just a few lessons I learned along the way, in addition to all the repertoire, which made certain teachers (and lessons) memorable.
- Piu means “more” and peu means “little.”
- Piu mosso means more motion and meno mosso means less motion.
- Accidentals do not affect the same note of a different octave, unless indicated by a key signature.
- Senza means without and sempre means always.
- To shape the melodic line it usually makes sense to go to the long note.
- If there is no fingering written in the score, follow the “next note, next finger” rule.
- Una corda means use the soft pedal (one string); tre corda means release the soft pedal (three strings).
- When you have two phrases with identical notes and rhythm, make them different by dynamic contrast or a change in touch.
- Grace notes in Chopin are generally played on the beat.
- F# minor melodic scale is the only scale that changes fingering on the descent.
- m.d. (main droite) right hand and m.g. (main gauche) left hand.
- With a ritardando at the end of a piece pay attention to the space between the notes. Should be incrementally longer with the longest wait before the last note.
- When working on very soft passages, practice “excavating the pianissimo.” In other words, begin from nothing and then gradually you’ll get to the softest sound possible.
- Before playing extended octave passages, try flipping your arm over and reaching an octave with your hand upside down, fingers pointing to the floor. It a good stretch!
- Sopra means above.
- Sotto voce meas “under voice”, or soft.
- A staccato note under a slur is a portato. Think of it as a “plump staccato.”
- When working for dynamic contrast, practice stopping and preparing before the change.
- When working with large complicated chordal passages, practice squeezing the chord to shape the hand. Your muscles will remember.
- Sightread chords from the bottom to the top.
- To play a passage of thirds, fourths, fifths, etc. legato lift the finger that is to be repeated while connecting the rest.
- When in doubt sing the melody.
© Catherine Shefski
I found this neat chart via Dan Severino’s Twitter feed (Twitter @PianoPressings, website). To paraphrase from his tweet, I shall be displaying this prominently in my studio this term!
Those of you who follow I Can Haz Cheezburger will recognise that the title of this post is written in “LOLcat speak”, but there is a serious intent to this post…………read on.
Last week, I took two of my students to a community masterclass run by concert pianist and teacher Graham Fitch. The idea behind a masterclass is that a student’s playing is critiqued in front of a well-known and respected pianist or master teacher and other students and interested observers. It’s usually a fairly intimate affair and allows both participants and observers to get really close to the ‘action’. As a child in the 1970s, I remember watching masterclasses on BBC2 with ‘cellist Paul Tortelier or pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim, and thinking they were quite stressful affairs for the students taking part, especially with Tortelier, who was a rather histrionic Frenchman. These days, such programmes are considered too esoteric for mainstream tv, and have largely been replaced by those instant, or near-instant gratification programmes with catchy titles such as ‘Conductor in a Day!’ or ‘From Car Mechanic to Carmen‘. Interestingly, as my piano teacher pointed out the other week, when we were have a joint grumble about how much we despise programmes such as ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ and ‘X-Factor’, none of these programme feature learning to be a pianist in day – because its so damn difficult!
Many piano courses, including my teacher’s twice-yearly weekend courses for advanced pianists, are run as masterclasses with a small group of attentive students gathered around the piano, and one person in the ‘hot seat’. I thought it would be nerve-wracking the first time I participated in such an event, but I actually found it incredibly useful, stimulating and supportive. It’s interesting to hear not only what the teacher or acknowledged expert thinks about your playing, but also the thoughts and views of fellow students too, and it can become a forum for new insights and ideas about the music you are studying – for both student and teacher.
So, armed with a piece to play each, I took Ben and Saskia off to Southfields for their class with Graham. The station was all spruced up for the tennis (you alight at Southfields tube station for the Lawn Tennis Club), complete with jaunty hanging baskets and grass-court green carpet on the platforms. The venue was only a moment or two down the hill, in the Baptist church, which boasted a nice baby grand piano. Ben fell on it immediately – he’s the student who’s always noodling! Prior to the class, I had assured both children that it was “not an exam” but rather an opportunity to play for someone other than me.
Despite the relative inexperience of both students (Ben passed Grade 1 last summer, and Saskia has just taken her exam), they were quick to respond to Graham’s ideas and suggestions, and it was wonderful to hear the difference in their playing after only a few minutes in Graham’s good-natured and inspirational company. Suddenly, the Menuet in F (ABRSM Grade 1 List A) which Saskia played, was lifted beyond a straight early-classical examination set piece, and sparkled with life, a little glimpse of Mozart at home with his sister, Nannerl, and father Leopold. Meanwhile, Ben’s reduced version of the Moonlight Sonata took on a dark and mysterious tone, complete with a tolling “dead bell” in the RH melody.
For me, it was lovely to hear my pupils playing so well, eager to respond to Graham’s ideas, and to see Graham in action as a teacher, which made me realise that, despite my own relative inexperience (I have only been teaching for 5 years), I am largely “doing it right”. (Ben came to me as a complete beginner, and there he was, reveling in Beethoven’s romanticism and revolutionary musical vision!). We all came away from the event full of inspiration and ideas, and I found myself incorporating some of Graham’s methods (colours, statues) into my own lessons the following day.
In another, not unconnected experience, later in the week, I played the Liszt Sonetto 123 del Petrarca for a friend who is a professional pianist, who had kindly agreed to critique my playing as part of my preparations for a recital diploma later this year. Although not a masterclass, per se, nor was this a lesson in the strict sense of teacher and pupil, as at my stage, one is expected to arrive for a lesson full prepared, so that we can spend time discussing aspects of technique or interpretation rather than note-learning. The best part, of course, was having my playing praised and being told I was on the right track for the diploma – oh, and the opportunity to play a really lovely piano.
I do enjoy being taught because it gives me ideas for my own teaching, and even the most complex areas of technique can be adapted to suit early students. And yet another useful learning experience will be afforded me this coming Sunday when I attend my teacher’s one day workshop for piano teachers on teaching piano technique. At my teacher’s request, I’ve prepared some notes on how I adapt those aspects of technique we work on together to my most junior students. Given the enjoyment I’ve gained from Penelope’s weekend courses for pianists, I am sure this workshop will be a very helpful and informative. I have already ‘met’ one of the other attendees, thanks to Facebook!
This kind of study is often called “ongoing professional development”, and there are plenty of courses available through organisations like EPTA and the Associated Board for teachers to improve their skills. I feel it’s very important that a teacher does not rest on her laurels: a few merits or distinctions amongst your students’ exam results does not mean you know it all, and a good teacher is one who is always open and receptive to new ideas and methods. I also regard regular concert-going, attending courses and lectures, and, of course, masterclasses as crucial areas of my own personal “ongoing professional development”.
See ‘rockstar’ pianist Lang Lang submitting to Daniel Barenboim’s greater knowledge and experience in Beethoven’s ‘Apassionato’ Sonata
And here’s a spoof by very young-looking Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie from ‘Saturday Live’
And finally, here’s a ‘LOLCat’…..
A post on Gretchens Pianos inspired this one!
My grandfather played the piano, mostly Methodist hymns and his favourite bits of Bach, Beethoven and Haydn. I suppose I was always aware of it and probably messed about on his piano, an Edwardian upright, which was on the left as you went into the front room (kept for Sundays and special occasions) when we went to visit. The piano stool was full of interesting song sheets and hymnals, friable and speckled with age, with that special antique smell, like the musty reminiscence of an old church….. My younger uncle also played the piano, passably well, while my eldest uncle was a fine amateur violinist. There was often music in my grandparents’ house, live and on the ‘gramophone’ (as it was called).
I don’t recall actually asking if I could learn the piano; rather, my parents acquired an old Challen upright for me when I was about 5. It had lived in a greenhouse for 2 years and needed a lot of restoration. It was overhauled, refelted, and given lots of TLC, and was gradually brought up to concert pitch by the tuner to become a much-loved and regularly-played instrument. It saw me through to Grade 8, but when I left home, I stopped playing seriously for some years, and when my parents divorced, my father sold the piano because I did not have room for it in my flat.
My first teacher, Mrs Scott, in Sutton Coldfield, seemed ancient. She had a grand piano in the front room of her house and during the lesson, her husband would silently bring her a cup of tea, served in a bone china cup and saucer. She always wore mauve or pink, and smelt faintly of lavender. I took my exams at the Birmingham School of Music, one exam a year, a veritable treadmill. When we moved to Hertfordshire, I took lessons with Suzette Murdoch, who taught me to love the intricacies of Bach and the passion and humour of Beethoven. She had an Old English Sheepdog and a spaniel, who would lie across my feet as I sat at her Steinway. My music teacher at school was also very influential. He was endlessly enthusiastic and inspirational, and I often find myself repeating things he said when I am teaching (“pretend you’re a trumpet!”). Twenty-five years since leaving school, I started having lessons again, an experience which I find endlessly absorbing, interesting and fulfilling. The most satisfying part is seeing how quickly I have progressed from post-Grade 8 repertoire to “proper” advanced repertoire – Chopin Etudes, a Ballade, Schubert’s last sonata…. Three years ago, I didn’t think I would be playing Liszt, but now I no longer look at music and think “there’s no way I can play that!”.
My current piano is a Yamaha, purchased four years ago, and chosen for quality and price. Of course, I dream of owning a grand, when space and budget permit, but in the meantime, I play my teacher’s antique Bluthner regularly, and a friend’s Steinway B, which I find as quirky as driving my old Porsche. Last summer, while on holiday in southern Ireland, I had the good fortune to play a rather special Bluthner which lives at Russborough, a beautiful 18th century stately home in County Wicklow. The piano belonged to Sir Alfred Beit, who, with his wife, was a great society host, and a fine amateur pianist. It was wonderful to see Sir Alf’s music in the rack next to the piano: the same Peters edition of Schubert’s Impromptus I had when I was in my teens, and a book of Czerny studies. Next to the Bluthner is an older Steinway, which was played by Paderewski when he visited Russborough.
Russborough, County Wicklow
I am fascinated by the connection pianists, in particular, seem to have to their instruments, and also the stories which illustrious instruments can tell us, in their own way. In a novel (as yet unpublished!) I wrote some years ago, about a young man poised on the cusp of a fantastic career as a concert pianist, before the Great War cruelly intervenes, the various pianos he plays have great significance for him – his teacher’s Broadwood, his mother’s Pleyel, his patron’s grandiose Steinway, a rickety upright in the officers’ mess – and the music he plays on each has very special and symbolic resonances (Beethoven, Scriabin, Debussy, Schubert, Rachmaninov). We grow very attached to our instruments, and we are often very protective of them. Although I teach, and am happy to do so, I do get upset when children treat my piano badly. Luckily, this does not happen that often – and when it does, I am quick to point out that such treatment will not do the instrument any good!
The loneliness of the pianist also interests me. While other musicians, be they soloists, ensembles or orchestras, sit largely facing the audience, the pianist does not, and this immediately changes the dynamic between performer and audience. Some people have suggested that I chose the piano because I am an only child and that I like being on my own. It’s true that I am content in my own company, and am happy to spend hours alone with my piano, but I don’t buy into the only child theory. Discussing this with fellow students on the piano course in April, we all agreed that one of the chief attractions of being a pianist, aside from the vast and wonderful repertoire, is the solitariness of the role.
I used to play the clarinet as well, an instrument which I love to listen to, which allowed me to join an orchestra and wind ensemble. However, I did not choose to learn it (I wanted to play the flute), and I always felt overshadowed by my father, who was a talented amateur clarinettist. Fortunately, I could accompany him on the piano, as I grew more proficient, and one of our favourite pieces was the Brahms E flat Clarinet Sonata. My father is now learning the piano, though he refuses to take any advice whatsoever from me!
When I was at school, I played the harpsichord, often being called upon to play continuo with the chamber orchestra. It was, by turns, a fascinating and frustrating experience, as it is not an easy instrument to master, and the school harpsichord (a modern instrument made from a kit) was beset with problems and regularly disappeared for maintenance.
My piano tuner keeps urging me to visit the Chappell showroom in central London to “try the Bosendorfers”, but, as I said to him, I know if I try one I will want one! I’d love to play a Fazioli, just to see what all the fuss is about. And when I had a backstage tour of the Wigmore Hall some years ago, it was hard to resist sitting down at the Steinway on the hallowed stage there, and rattling through a drop of Schubert…..
How did you choose your instrument? What’s your story? Please feel free to reply!
I am reblogging this excellent article by Wendy at ComposeCreate.com. It is particularly pertinent for those of us who are about to recommence teaching for the summer term, with all the minor headaches (chasing up late fees, catching up on holidays without practice, etc.) that we always have to deal with at the start of a new term!
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