Klarinet Archive - Posting 000474.txt from 1998/10
From: Tony@-----.uk (Tony Pay)
Subj: [kl] I've started, so I'll finish
Date: Sun, 11 Oct 1998 12:09:42 -0400
I said that I had a few more shots in my locker about this
'beginning-oriented phrasing' business that I intended to get off, so
I'll produce them in this post.
I know that some people will find what I have to say obvious, others
will disagree strongly. Go figure. We live in a very strange and
heterogeneous musical world at the moment!
Here goes.
There are two distinct reasons why beginning-oriented phrasing is
important for performers. One has to do with audibility, and one with
expressivity. Both tend to be compromised by the tendency to ask the
question 'where does it *go to*?' of a phrase, together with the
tendency then (by playing the phrase) to answer the question in a
superficial way, and thus to base all expressivity on local crescendo.
(It might be objected that the question 'where does it *go to*?' may
sometimes be a very natural one, even in classical music. Fortunately,
in these circumstances, it is possible to provide a satisfactory answer
to the question, yet without undermining the advantages of
beginning-oriented phrasing, by allowing the 'going to' to occur on the
next higher phrase level. I won't spell this out in detail here (see my
article), but consider: the sequence "louder, *louder*, LOUDER!", read
'out loud', constitutes an evident 'going to' the final 'LOU-!' -- yet
there is never a 'local' crescendo. *Everything* is in diminuendo.)
(1) The first reason why beginning-oriented phrasing is important -- to
do with audibility -- is something that any solo wind player, in any
sort of music, but particularly in an orchestra, does well to realise.
One part of it is well-known: you should *begin clearly*, in order to
be audible.
However what I find less well known, consciously at any rate, is that
it is advantageous to *come away afterwards* (thus giving space to begin
again, of course), particularly if you have to overcome a degree of
competition from your colleagues. The 'coming away' may occur to a
greater or lesser degree (even to zero degree), and there is no
suggestion that the continuity of the sound be broken.
Why is this?
First, one sort of explanation: our ears and brain are sensitive to
*change*. Something that changes is more easily perceived than
something that stays the same. So, even if we are doing a diminuendo,
and giving therefore less energy to the note or phrase we are playing,
we are more clearly perceived than if we stayed at the same dynamic.
(As another aside, this is part of a sort of paradox about the
communication of the *idea* of energy, too. We communicate 'energy' in
our playing by rapid changes of dynamic, even though we are thereby
playing for a proportion of the time quieter, and therefore less
energetically, than we might.)
But there is another, deeper explanation of why we should 'come away'
that is more suggestive. It is that to do so is to mimic the surface
structure of *speech*.
Speech has evolved subject to the constraints of our perceptual systems.
The character of speech is therefore a clue to the character of our
perceptual systems, including those that we bring to our perception of
music.
The fundamental character of speech is its responsibility to be
intelligible, which presupposes that it be clearly *audible*, even
against background noise.
For this to be the case, it seems to be important that the constantly
changing vowels and consonants at the beginnings of syllables be clearly
differentiated from the sounds that immediately precede them. In other
words, the beginnings have more energy. This is a natural character of
everyday spoken language. Recorded speech in any language, played
backwards, doesn't sound like speech.
This structure of speech is the reason why we can understand one
conversation even in a crowded party, where there is not only background
noise but also the conversation of others to distract and confuse us.
It is also why we can switch our attention from one conversation to
another, if we hear something gripping in it (like our name, for
example).
So if we want to be clear, it makes sense to take advantage of how our
perceptual system works and 'speak' the music. Then the musical phrases
are like the syllables of words: each phrase begins clearly and then
gives way to allow the next to do the same. Moreover ™ and this is
crucial ™ if there is more than one line, this 'giving way' also makes
room for the beginnings of other phrases in the sequences that are
simultaneously in progression in the other parts.
We may range across the spectrum from separation, through contiguity and
into sostenuto, whilst still retaining the autonomy of the individual
phrases, just as we may do with words when we speak. Our ability to do
this is very important. Any method of showing phrasing that does not
allow both separation and sostenuto as limiting cases is bound to fail
in classical music of any subtlety, because the simultaneous and
delicately balanced expression of both unity and diversity is
fundamental.
For me, it is something like magic that *what allows us to be clearly
heard*, if we are playing an important line, *also allows what else is
going on to be clearly heard*.
As I said before, it is therefore to be expected that a music
consisting of individual lines, all separately audible yet nevertheless
blending in an overall effect, should have those lines share some of the
character of speech. In my view, the best classical music is such
music.
(2) The second reason why beginning-orientated phrasing is important
has to do with expressivity.
Expressivity is a mysterious thing. It has to do with the notions of
'atmosphere' and 'character', and seems to be beyond the notes. It is
often approached by analogy, and is something that, in large works, it
is an important part of the job of a conductor to communicate or allow.
The best way of thinking of it is as something rather like context, or
'being'.
But just as the conductor's upbeat that represents it occurs before the
downbeat, it is something that we create in the moment *before* we start
to play. The beginning of what we play is then the first, most crucial
moment in which our sound can reflect the context, and communicate it to
the audience. Our beginnings are our most powerful gestures.
And, once you consider your playing from this point of view, you begin
to see that our abilities to begin phrases and subphrases can be
considerably developed and refined. It's no good beginning anyhow, and
*then* playing expressively.
The ability of a really excellent violinist lies to a very large extent
in how he or she uses the bowstroke -- particularly the *beginning* of
the bowstroke.
Tony
--
_________ Tony Pay
|ony:-) 79 Southmoor Rd Tony@-----.uk
| |ay Oxford OX2 6RE
tel/fax 01865 553339
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