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Piano Notes: The World of the Pianist

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In his brilliant article, "Who's Afraid of the Avant-Garde?" Charles Rosen makes the point that the societal dilemma of the decline of serious music is a false one, as the survival of music depends not on the willingness of audience-goers to listen to it, but on the drive within musicians to play it. In the end, we play the pieces that inspire us and challenge us -- and, above all, the pieces we love. Rosen argues that the commercial aspect of music has made us forget this simple fact: we participate in musical experience because it brings us joy.

"Piano Notes" is overflowing with this joy, that of a man who has been thinking about, writing about, and playing music for more than 60 years now. And Rosen is so successful in conveying the pleasure the musical experience has to offer, that in reading his new book, we feel it too. We smile and laugh out loud at his comical and endearing anecdotes about music performances and performers, competition juries and contestants, and conservatory students and teachers alike. First and foremost, reading "Piano Notes" is a pure pleasure, like eating good dessert and sharing thoughtful conversation with friends. As such, it calls less for a critical review than for a reflection on and discussion of its ideas.

Of course there is more here than mere pleasure. In between the personal experience and the occasionally sardonic wit lie some of Rosen's most important thoughts and ideas: the qualities of the piano that have attracted composers to it for 200 years; how the tactile experience of playing the piano impacts the way we hear our own performances and others'; the physical limitations of the piano, and their relevance to performance and the realization of music; the effects of the conservatory system on musical individuality; the importance of sight-reading and a deep knowledge of the piano literature; considerations for live and recorded performances; and a survey of differing piano styles from composer to composer throughout the years.

Rosen has, of course, discussed many of these ideas elsewhere (see "The Classical Style", "The Romantic Generation", his essays for the New York Review of Books, some of which appear in "Critical Entertainments", and, more recently, "A Short Companion to Beethoven's Piano Sonatas" and a lecture entitled, "Tradition Without Convention"), but in "Piano Notes" they are given particularly lucid, if brief, treatment, and, thankfully, are free of some of his more grating tics of style. (I must admit that they are endearing, as well. For example, Rosen is usually unrelenting with his superlatives; the construction "no piece demonstrates better..." appears hyperfrequently in some of his earlier books. While I was pleased to see more "variety" (for lack of a better word) in his expressions of praise this time round, I did begin to worry about two-thirds of the way through the book when I hadn't come across it once. I was relieved when it finally arrived, on page 209. Odd though it may seem, such is the complex relationship between a reader like me, and someone as well-written as Mr. Rosen, quirks and all.)

Much of "Piano Notes" is, as its title would suggest, focused on particular piano works (fortunately, all of which I am familiar with), or on the deliciously tactile piano experience (also something I am familiar with); indeed, I feel it would be hard for a non-pianist to enjoy this book as much as I --or any other pianist-- could. Almost every sentence spoke directly to me, was an echo of something I have felt, thought, said, or written at some time about the piano. I should point out, though, that while non-pianists may not be able to relate to some of Rosen's particularly "piano-centric" experiences, anyone with a love for and appreciation of music will find something to enjoy here: his main arguments are supported by his experience with the piano, but are always applied more broadly to music in general.

As a 20-year-old amateur --though I staunchly defend and cling to my snobbish 'student' status, as well-- pianist and music theorist who spends a good deal of time thinking critically about music, Rosen's insightful books and thoughtful performances have always resonated with and been an inspiration to me. Throughout adolescence, I never found a teacher or mentor I wanted to study with --in my experience, thinking about music is not something that appeals to most musicians-- and thus my musical journey has typically been characterized by a sometimes-lonely independence. When reading Rosen's books, perhaps this latest in particular, I am struck with a bit of jealousy for those one-time students of his, and indeed those of any of the excellent teachers he describes in "Piano Notes": as far as thinking musicians like Rosen are concerned, the musical world is frightfully barren.

Charles Rosen belongs to that rare breed of musician in whom is combined high executant skill as an international concert pianist with a formidable wide-ranging intellect: at once creative artist, writer, thinker and academic. In 'Piano Notes', Rosen - the creator of 'The Classical Style', 'Arnold Schoenberg', 'Sonata Forms', and other learned treatises - reveals himself as a raconteur and wit, with a considerable repertoire of tales very much 'out of school'. For those fans and devotees of Rosen and indeed all things pianistic, but who are unwilling to tackle his weightier writings, this manageable and engaging book is the right choice.

Lighter fare though it undoubtedly is, 'Piano Notes' is by no means an inconsequential if amusing throw-away by an otherwise serious writer. Here are all the hallmarks of the author's style: compelling argument, clear expression, the large brush as well as the finely finished decoration, understandable (for the amateur) use of example and illustration, and a good deal of provocation besides. How many dedicated piano teachers will bristle at the observation that 'almost all books on how to play the piano are absurd', that 'beautiful tone production does not exist on the piano apart from the music', or that the masterclass is 'a way of earning more money and doing less work'? But of course, there is cogent reasoning to follow the bald statement, and it would be an obtuse reader who is unmoved by the plain speaking about cherished myths and traditions within the pianist's world, the painful truth - as it would seem to many established professionals - exposed within a few pages by the persuasiveness of the writer's experience, wisdom and uncompromising judgment.

Many pianists of talent who have suffered some erosion of confidence by failing to achieve a place in a major piano competition can take heart from Rosen's unforgiving view of this institution which, like the Conservatory of Music - as he argues with equal insight - does not necessarily serve the interests of the exceptional student. He discusses the conservatism of juries, the inadequacies of voting systems, and not least the capacity - indeed tendency - of the best performers to suffer occasional disasters in contrast to their superb interpretations when on form, this necessary artistic vulnerability sometimes ensuring that the merely consistent triumphs over the extraordinary . But extraordinary qualities are required to be a concert pianist, apart from the rigorous training from infancy. In his inimitable way, Rosen rounds off the perspective: advanced music training and experience should always take account of the 'the public' (as distinct from the experts ), the body who has the refreshing capacity to respond to 'eccentric originality' rather than correctness.

Readers will enjoy the many anecdotal references to 'great' pianists: their widely varying playing positions (Rubinstein and Gould), Horowitz's spliced 'live' recordings, Cherkassky's obsession with piano stools, the studied non-coordination of the hands by Paderewski, Bauer and (more rarely) Hoffman. The various ways and traditions of applause receive instructive treatment as does how to congratulate a pianist after a recital, or the benefits of practising while reading a book. All entertaining stuff, but, in the hands of Rosen, aligned and interlaced with, for example, an enlightening and penetrating examination of the psycho-physical nature of piano-playing, a fascinating argument on the relationship between the changing tactile requirements of keyboard technique through the centuries and the history of the visual arts - as in the Renaissance invention of perspective, Venetian and Baroque coloristic technique, the merging of individual lines and rhythms in Impressionism and beyond - or even an unabashed treatment of modernism (Rosen is a champion of 20th century pianism from Schoenberg to Boulez and Elliott Carter) in which he confronts the public distaste for the avant-garde.

As one would expect from a writer well-versed in literature and language, Rosen offers useful literary parallels and allusions, as for example when discussing the impact of contemporary music: 'a distaste for modernism is understandable and needs neither defense nor apology'. It is typical of the writer that he is careful to distinguish between exploratory argument and definitive assertion, always seeking clarity and the avoidance of intellectual compromise.

Rosen is humorous and insightful. He looks at a number of piano and music related topics (concerts, competition, practice, etc.) and imparts a level of understanding that reveals both the brilliance and idiosyncrasies of the music world. This is not just a book for the piano student but for anyone interested in classical music.

The following passage illustrates:

"For whom does one play? To whom is the performance addresses? These questions are odd because they do not seem at first sight to call forth a useful answer. They are worth asking, however, because they raise a more interesting one: to what extent is the performer aware of the public during their actual playing? The latter question is more pertinent to the pianist than any other musician. Unlike the string player of the singer, the pianist does not face the listeners while playing; the public exists only in the margins of his sight. Nevertheless, even for the violinist or the soprano, the contrast of the spotlit stage and the lowered lights in the hall make the audience largely an anonymous blur."

Rosen's writing is accessible and his style witty. Both newcomers to music and the most erudite aficionado will come away with a deeper understanding of the world of classical music. It gives much food for thought and further discussion with friends. Very enjoyable.

I love books like this. A renowned master of the keyboard talks about a lifetime of experience in the concert hall and on records. Charles Rosen talks about the physicality of playing the piano, the joys and the problems, the obstacles to keeping a piano in good working order (most non-pianists don't appreciate what a high-maintenance item a piano is), the difficulties of recording vs. live performance (and the different kinds of nervousness that attend each), and the future of the instrument (will it be replaced by the electric guitar as the instrument of choice? Will piano recitals become a thing of the past?). My only complaint is the book was too short. I could have enjoyed another hundred pages. It's a fun, quick read, a great book to bring along on a train or plane trip.

As a pianist I stand in awe of Charles Rosen's phenomenal analysis and exposure of the life, status, mind, intellect and passion of one of our most celebrated pianists. If there were ever any doubt about why one plays the piano, here is the answer. This is another MUST HAVE for any honest and serious pianist, either amateur or professional.

The book is very light in your hand to hold, and very easy to read. Even though the contents are sometimes very technical and professional, Mr. Rosen made it easy and light enough for non-professionals to be able to understand. He tells about piano as an instrument, its mechanics, its charm, and how you can achieve to get the best out of the instrument. My piano hasn't been tuned in 10 years, because I'm so afraid that the piano tuner I choose may ruin it (it happened once). Now I know a lot more about the instrument and its mechanics, I'll know what to tell the tuner about my piano.
Also I was delighted to learn the importance of the piano stool, and how its height can affect your performance.
He also tells you about what is essential to survive in the highly competitious classical piano world. I'm not a professional pianist, but I do a lot of creative works (painting, writing, composing), and his points made a great deal of sense.
It's a very imformative book which you will not regret reading.

I begin with a paraphrase from Rosen's book, "A review should cultivate a certain humility before a really fine pianist and writer." Rosen is both. In fact, the man is so talented as to be somewhat intimidating. Not only is he a world-class pianist, he has written volumes on various musical subjects, holds a doctorate in French literature from Princeton, and has served on the faculty at the University of Chicago. He is one of America's remaining public intellectuals.
Rosen's earlier works, "Sonata Forms," "The Classical Style," and "The Romantic Generation," have all entered the canon of works that are absolutely essential for the well-informed musician and critic. "Piano Notes" takes a lighter approach: it is part memoir, part anecdote, always highly opinionated, with some choice gossip thrown in. Often, his tongue is firmly planted in cheek. In other words, it's great reading.
In relatively few well-chosen words, Rosen offers his considered opinions on topics as diverse as Bach performance, piano tuning and regulation, shenanigans in the recording studio, piano conservatories and competitions, the uses and misuses of concerts and recitals, and the best method of piano practicing for pure technique--reading while practicing, but scrupulously avoiding poetry and "really admirable prose" because these interfere with the rhythm of the music. "The most useful, I have found for myself, are detective stories, sociology and literary criticism. However, any reading matter that distracts the mind without engaging the senses or the emotions too powerfully will work." (p. 40).
Rosen believes the traditional piano recital, complete with grand piano, darkened hall, and the costumed pianist as high priest, is on the way out, largely because of the relative ease of acquiring fine recorded performances of most of the repertoire. I for one hope he's wrong. There is something marvelous, as Rosen points out, in caressing those ivory and ebony keys, and having music come out. The person who has never experienced that will never understand the blissful expression on the faces of so many pianists when they can share music with others. But those of us lucky enough to have felt music flow from our fingers and to have placed themselves and others under its thrall, will completely understand when Rosen when rhapsodizes of the pianist's fetishistic need for physical contact with the ebony and ivory, and of the inexpressible beauty that results.

It's getting so that if Charles Rosen announced a forthcoming book on the collective memories of his summer vacations during his youth kind of thing, I would buy it! Bottom line, and obviously what I'm saying here is that I like the way he writes 'all' of his books, what he has to say and how he says it! A style that both holds and informs if you will. So too, he's "been the road" so the contents of these books draw on the cumulative wealth of his experiences whether it's a discussion of Beethoven's sonatas, the classical era itself and its stand-outs or this present book on the world of the pianist.

Regardless of one's level of experience on the piano, this book is an excellent read from a man who knows what he is talking about. It is NOT a book zeroing in on posture or breathing or "don't bang the keys" recitations or 'lectures' but rather a nitty-gritty practical tome that touches on various areas and what life with the keys is all about. The ups and the downs and all in between.

BTW, if books like these appeal to you written by folks who have "been there, done that" albeit well 'verifiably' so as is the case with Mr. Rosen, and as they equally appeal to me when I can locate such informative tomes, and as a classical oriented player making no excuses for literally loving the classical war-horse pieces, check out "Piano Pieces" by Russell Sherman [New England Conservatory]. Another great read!

Doc Tony

Charles Rosen has a career as a scholar as well as a pianist. Now he combines his two roles, with excellent results - a "good read" and food for thought. He alternates between philosophical and practical and provides entertaining anecdotes about pianists, performances, competitions, recordings.

This book should be required reading for all pianists (and teachers) in music schools. Young pianists will benefit most from his ideas about piano literature, sight reading, performances, competitions. While adjustments in the current education process would benefit future performers and teachers, it would also improve the overall foundation for lifelong enjoyment of piano playing.

Being a pianist, I have an inevitably biased view for my instrument. But Charles Rosen's book "Piano Notes" is intended for everyone, even people who have no formal training in music. It covers just about all aspects of the instrument, including famous pianists, the idea of recording, and music appreciation in the broad sense. Rosen's experience as a pianist and a pedagogue adds invaluable touches to this book. Living in a country where classical music is largely neglected in the culture, I think this book should be read by all cultural people, at least all music majors on college campuses.