3 Romanzen, Op. 22 (1853)

Helen Fisher, a Canadian-American anthropologist and human behavior researcher, is a leading expert on the biology of love. She divides the experience of love between men and women into three overlapping stages: lust, attraction and attachment; each involves the increased release of certain chemicals in the brain. I respect her research, but it just sounds too scientific for me. During the holiday of Chinese New Year, I saw a movie, ‘The Flowers of War’; by the end of it, I finished a whole pack of tissue paper. It talks of 12 prostitutes and a boy, sacrificing themselves to save the lives of the convent girls, in Japan’s ‘Rape of Nanjing’ in 1937. It shows the noblest side of the human soul. This makes me think: love, perhaps, is the unselfish concern for the good of the others. In music, I thought of Clara Schumann.


Clara Schumann was one of the finest pianists in the 19th century; Chopin praised her playing to Liszt and violinist Joseph Joachim became her frequent performing partner. Her love for music was as great as her love for Robert Schumann. Her father Friedrich Wieck did everything he could to prevent her from marrying Robert, forcing the lovers to court, however, they were married in 1840. Among her hectic performing schedule, she had to take charge of the finances and general household affairs. Besides, she raised seven children for him, an eighth child having died in infancy. What impressed me most was that Clara stayed with her husband, even though he had a mental collapse, attempted suicide by throwing himself from a bridge into the Rhine River, and was committed to an insane asylum for the last two years of his life. She could have just walked away from these tragedies and started a new life, but she did not, she chose to stay with him, no matter how many times she had been warned by Robert that his illness might do her harm. After his death in 1856, Clara continued to promote his works tirelessly, until her own death forty years later. She had lived for Robert Schumann.


Clara Schumann extended her love for Robert to their children. It was reported that Clara defied some armed men who confronted her and rescued her children out of the dangerous area in the ‘May Uprising’ in Dresden in 1849. Four of her eight children died before her, and one of her sons Ludwig, like his father, ended his life in an insane asylum. After the death of her daughter Julie and her son Ferdinand, Clara raised her grandchildren, with loving care.


Punctuated by tragedies in her family life, Clara Schumann sought consolation in music. Her three Romances were composed in 1853, which were inspired by Robert’s birthday. After his death, she performed his music as if he was still besides her in spirit. She was the authoritative editor of Robert’s works for the publishing company, Breitkopf & Härtel. Clara was instrumental in setting the standard for concertizing; she was one of the first pianists to perform from memory. She also influenced generations of pianists through her teaching; Mathilde Verne carried her teaching to England, whilst Carl Friedberg brought it to the Julliard School in America.


For me, Clara Schumann was one of the great women who knew how to love and had the fortune to experience it in her life. I am not a Christian, but I agree with what the Bible said, ‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.’ (Corinthians 13:4-8a) If you find someone you love and who loves you back, have the courage to cherish it with all your heart, for it is the most beautiful thing on earth. Happy Valentine’s Day!


Photo credit: http://www.bach-cantatas.com/Lib/Schumann-Clara.htm

Las 4 Estaciones Portenas (The 4 Seasons of Buenos Aires)
(arr. L. Desyatnikov for violin and strings)

I have long had a love affair with Astor Piazzolla’s music. Several years ago I heard the wonderful recording of Le Grand Tango for cello and piano performed by Yo Yo Ma. Written in 1982 and dedicated to Russian cellist, Mistislav Rostropovitch it was premiered by him in 1990 in New Orleans.

I was transported by the piece and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the music to play it myself. I fell in love with the driving syncopated rhythms and the beautiful melodies, perfect for the soulful voice of the cello and The tango rhythm is simply an 8/8 common time signature, but it is transformed when it is grouped in three accented groups 3/3/2. It becomes passionate, unrelenting, unrestrained and the ending of Le Grand Tango leaves both the audience and the performers breathless.



The tango was originally an Argentinian street dance originating in Buenos Aires and Uruguay. Society considered the dance quite scandalous. The steamy close embraces and the dramatic, sexy rhythmic footwork were frowned upon, that is, until the dance crossed the oceans to the salons of Paris. There it became a rage. When the tango returned to Argentina it became the most popular social dance.

Piazzolla was a formidable bandoneón virtuoso. Unlike the accordion, where there is an actual keyboard to play, playing the bandoneón involves pushing in or pulling out the instrument while the fingers press buttons on either side more like the concertina. The notes produced are different when the instrument is open or closed, and the right and left hand have different keyboards. It boggles the mind that there are four keyboard configurations to learn. The bandoneón has an entirely unique sound.

During his younger years, Piazzolla tried to absorb all kinds of music. He studied with some the best teachers of the time. In 1933 he studied with the Hungarian pianist Bela Wilda, a disciple of Rachmaninoff with whom Astor “ learned to love Bach”.

In 1939, he joined one of the greatest tango orchestras of Argentina, the Anibal Troilo orchestra. Their bandoneón player Pichuco became one of Piazzolla’s masters. Piazzolla also studied with the great composers Alberto Ginastera, and Nadja Boulanger in Paris. Piazzolla immersed himself in the study of Bartok, Stravinsky and jazz.

At the time, Piazzolla actually attempted to hide his tanguero past and his bandoneón playing. Classical music inspired him. But after he performed his tango Triunfal for Ms. Boulanger she said “Astor, your classical pieces are well written, but the true Piazzolla is here, never leave it behind.” These words affected him for the rest of his career.

When he returned to Argentina, Piazzolla formed his first quintet – bandoneón, violin, bass, piano, and electric guitar. This formation would become his trademark. His popularity began to soar. At over 1000 works, Piazzolla’s output was enormous. His distinctive and unique music with Argentinian flair continues to influence the best musicians in the world.

Recently, Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg nearly lit Minneapolis’ Orchestra Hall on fire with her rendition of Astor Piazzolla’s The Four Seasons in Buenos Aires. Nadja and Astor – What a combination! Each tango depicts a different season in the city, much like its counterpart, the Vivaldi Four Seasons.

Performing Leonid Desyatnikov’s arrangement for solo violin and string orchestra, Nadja was electrifying, mesmerizing and on the edge. The sheer physicality of the performances held us spellbound. She pushed herself and the violin to the limit, even at times viscerally stamping her foot. The work has awesome technical demands and distinctive sounds. Piazzolla invents new techniques such as playing on the other side of the bridge, resulting in a scratchy percussive sound. He paints evocative instrumental colors using fanciful glissandos (sliding on the violin string) and whistlelike harmonics.

Offstage, Nadja is sociable, voluble, casual but no less aggressive in her perfectionism and her vision regarding the work she is to perform.

Audiences may not realize that orchestras have inside jokes. Perhaps something humorous happens in the rehearsal and we may repeat it or exaggerate it during the concert. At a previous appearance with the Minnesota Orchestra, during a short bar of rest in a concerto, Nadja grabbed her violin by the neck and twirled it several times mid-air. After that day, in her honor, sometimes a whole section of string players will spin their instruments. It’s quite a sight to see an entire cello section twirl their cellos.

Three years ago Nadja Solerno-Sonnenberg became the Music Director of the New Century Chamber Orchestra. In November the ensemble made their New York Debut. Their trademark piece of course is the Piazzolla Four Seasons. In the November 20th, 2011, New York Times, reviewer James R. Oestreich writes that Nadja is known for “flaunting a certain brashness” but he compliments her on her “consummate skill and panache.” Be sure to pick up a copy of New Century’s recording Together. It’s hot!


Together: Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg & The New Century Chamber Orchestra
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Nadja Salerno Sonnenberg with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra
The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires
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Yoyo Ma – Piazzolla : Libertango
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Adios Nonino : Astor Piazzolla
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Photo 1: http://redpandoramusica.blogspot.com/2008/07/astor-piazzola.html

Photo 2: http://blog.feinviolins.com/2012/01/nadja-salerno-sonnenberg.html

Downey, G. (2010, July 21). Life without Language. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Neuroanthropology: For a greater understaind of the encultured brain and body: http://neuroanthropology.net/2010/07/21/life-without-language

Gascoigne, B. (2001). History of Language. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from History World: http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?historyid=ab13

Hadley, D. (2011). Honey Bees–Commuication Within the Honey Bee Colony. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from About.com Insects: http://insects.about.com/od/antsbeeswasps/p/honeybeecommun.htm

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Munger, D. (2008, June 19 ). Does Music help us learn language? Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Cognitive Daily: A new cognitive psychlogy article nearly every day: http://scienceblogs.com/cognitivedaily/2008/06/does_music_help_us_learn_langu.php

Music And Language Are Processed By The Same Brain Systems. (2007, Sep 28). Retrieved July 13, 2011, from Science Daily: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/09/070927121101.htm

Music and the Brain. (2007). Retrieved July 25, 2011, from The Neurosciences Institute: http://www.nsi.edu/index.php?page=xii_music_and_language_perception

Music and the Brain. (2011, July 13). Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_and_the_brain

O’Donnell, L. (1999). Music and the Brain. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Boethius: http://www.cerebromente.org.br/n15/mente/musica.html

Pytel, B. (2007, June 20). Brain Function and Music: How does music affect the brain and learning? Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Educational Issues Suite 101: http://www.suite101.com/content/brain-function-and-music-a22750

Sancar, F. (1999). Music and the Brain: Processing and Responding (A General Overview). Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Serendip: http://serendip.brynmawr.edu/bb/neuro/neuro99/web1/Sancar.html

Sound recording and reproduction. (2011, July 13). Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sound_recording_and_reproduction#Origins

Wang, D. (2002, Jan 4). Music, Language and the Brain. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from Serendip: http://serendip.brynmawr.edu/biology/b103/f01/web1/wang.html

University of Goldsmiths London (2010, January 16). How music ‘moves’ us: Listeners’ brains second-guess the composer. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from http://www.sciencedaily.com-/releases/2010/01/100115204704.htm

Max-Planck-Gesellschaft (2011, February 18). Crossing borders in language science: What bilinguals tell us about mind and brain. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from http://www.sciencedaily.com-/releases/2011/02/110218092531.htm

Elsevier (2011, June 29). Dyslexia linked to difficulties in perceiving rhythmic patterns in music. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from http://www.sciencedaily.com-/releases/2011/06/110629083113.htm

University of California – San Diego (2009, May 20). Tone Language Is Key To Perfect Pitch. ScienceDaily. Retrieved July 25, 2011, from http://www.sciencedaily.com-/releases/2009/05/090519172202.htm

Bach : Passacaglia and Fugue in C-Minor

Bach : Die Kunst der Fuge

The Reformation and Counterreformation of the 16th and 17th centuries had a decisive impact not only on the architecture of the time, moving from the harmony and balance of the Renaissance to the painted heavens, extreme ornamentation and disturbance captured in the concave and convex form of the Baroque, but was also replicated in the musical forms of the opera and the art of the castrati singers of the period. In church building, the basilica form was resurrected, not only bringing public and priests into a shared space, but changing the church service to a more participatory experience, in which music, and particularly the organ, played a significant part.


In Germany, profound differences developed between the churches and organs of the Protestant north and Catholic south. In Southern Germany and Austria, organs were seen as decorative elements within the Baroque decoration of the church, to the point that the sound qualities of the instrument were sacrificed in order for the organ to fit into a specific architectural space. Here the organ disappears in the overwhelming Baroque decoration and is considered nothing but a theatrical element in the ‘Gesamtkunstwerk’ (the total work of art).

The most famous organ builders and greatest organs were all in northern Europe – for example, Arp Schnitger, who built the great organ of St. Jacobi in Hamburg in 1693, where Johann Sebastian Bach applied for the position of organist in 1720 (and was rejected), Zacharias Hildebrandt and Gottfried Silbermann from Saxony. Silbermann organs were considered masterpieces not only by J.S. Bach, who was often asked to test these new organs as to their ‘lung capacity’, their potential wind and sound qualities, but to this day are considered some of the best organs ever built. Baroque organs were tuned not in a ‘tempered’ fashion, but ‘mitteltőnig’ (middle-tuned, i.e. one tone above the normal ‘A’), resulting in a rich, warm and resonant tone. They were the perfect instruments for Bach to explore extraordinary sound possibilities and to create many of his organ and choral masterpieces. In the service of the Duke of Saxony-Weimar from 1708 until 1717, he composed some of the organ music most familiar to us today – the Toccata and Fugue in D-Minor, the Passacaglia and Fugue in C-Minor, etc.

In his early organ works, Bach was mainly influenced by Reineken and Buxtehude, but in Weimar he heard and played the music of the new Italian masters, (e.g. Vivaldi, Corelli and Albinoni), applying his own counterpoint skills to their fast themes. His Orgelbűchlein (Little Organ Book), a set of short, imaginative organ preludes, each based on a melody of a standard Lutheran chorale, unravels Bach’s ‘architectural’ musical language, with rhythm and the turn of phrase associating with specific ideas in the chorale text. His intellect and mathematical thinking is evident in all of these works, as well as in Das Wohltemperierte Klavier (The Well-tempered Clavier) and Die Kunst der Fuge (The Art of the Fugue).

The newly built Baroque churches such as the Frauenkirche in Dresden (Church of Our Lady) were also architecturally suited to these new organs as their sound could fill their circular space of the basilica, within which the congregation now participated actively.

In comparison to the organs in the south, Silbermann organs appear rather plain visually, and very similar to each other. Their quality lies in the use of the best and most expensive materials, extraordinary workmanship and execution, with no sacrifice made just to accommodate a specific architectural space. The Silbermann organ of the Schloßkirche in Dresden, Germany, recently restored to its original Baroque sound, was one of his last and largest works, with 47 registers divided over three manuals and a pedal.

Over the course of the following centuries and particularly during the Romantic period of the 19th century, the tonality of many Baroque organs had been changed according to the reigning sound concepts of the time. Today there is increased interest in the restoration of the original tonal qualities of Baroque organs. Master organ builders such as Wolfgang Rehn, Director of Organ Restoration at Kuhn Orgel, GmbH, Switzerland, are continuing to make a number of such restorations in several European countries. Hearing Baroque organ music on Baroque organs in Baroque churches is an experience never to be forgotten.

Liebster Gott, wenn werd ich sterben, BWV 8 (1724)

A recent poll of Classical music buyers by the BPI (The British Recorded Music Industry) returned an interesting answer: that the favourite composer of an overwhelming majority was Johann Sebastian Bach. An evergreen composer, his music is continually committed to disc by performers with new interpretations, and performed regularly in concerts, with perhaps the most of the performed works being the two Passions. The public interest in the composer was certainly in evidence on Saturday in a packed St John’s College Chapel.


British collegiate college chapels on dark, dank Saturday nights are not the most obvious place to hear Bach Cantatas being performed. However, at St John’s College Chapel in Cambridge, a cantata is performed once a term as part of the liturgical service of evensong. Last weekend such a service took place, and the results were surprising. The cantata chosen was Liebster Gott, wenn werd ich sterben? a setting for the sixteenth Sunday after Trinity, first performed in Leipzig on 24 September 1724. The liturgical readings for the Sunday were taken from the Epistle to the Ephesians – Paul praying for the strengthening of faith in the congregation of Ephesus – and from the Gospel of Luke, recounting the raising from the dead of the Young man from Nain.


The opening movement is an extraordinary collage of textures and timbres. Two oboes d’amore play semiquaver figurations over a muted staccato quaver accompaniment by the upper strings with pizzicato broken-chords in the continuo. This texture is punctuated by a high chiming of the flute, which some commentators have likened to a tolling funeral bell: a subtle comment on the cantata text. The orchestral introduction was full of shape and elegance and with real virtuosity from the oboists. One quibble, which kept recurring during the cantata, and had plagued the Pergolesi Magnificat, was the balance. Even in a seat reasonably close to the front, the upper strings were dominated by the wind and the over-leaden continuo, resulting in a rather heavy performance. The same applied to the choir: the free counterpoint in the lower parts, which were more numerous, dominated the trebles’ extended chorale melody, a melody that should have been more prominent.


The second movement is an aria (Was willst du dich, mein Geist, entsetzen), for solo tenor with oboe d’amore and continuo. Sung by one of the choral scholars, the performance was assured and communicated all of the torment of the narrator. The smaller number of players worked beautifully, with the tenor and oboe d’amore parts flowing and intertwining in some wonderful playing. After a short alto recitative, the bass aria was similarly assured. A light gigue-like movement in 12/8 for singer, flute and strings bounced along with a dance quality. The wide-ranging and long-reaching melismatic phrases were delivered with a conviction and assuredness by the bass soloist.


The joyful flute figures that follow announce the return of trust in the mercy of God, and the banishment of fears of death. The penultimate movement, a short recitative affirming the resurrection, was sung by a treble from the Choir. The singing was everything required of it – sung almost off-book and communicated directly with the congregation, and with note perfect clarity in some tricky melodic writing. The pacing of the text and the subtle, reflective accompaniment provided a moment of tranquillity before the final chorale movement – Herrscher über Tod und Leben. The coming together of choir and instrumentalists in the chorale setting by Caspar Neumann rounded off the liturgical performance, triumphantly proclaiming the ‘Sovereign over death and life’, the only sour note being some rather hard-sounding singing from the tenors on the final suspensions of each line, somewhat antithetical to the overall feeling.


Altogether the liturgical performances of cantatas are an excellent project, and are a treasure for Cambridge choral evensong attendees. If the overall quality across the movements of the cantata can match the best of the solo singing, then these will be performances to rival those of some of the professional adult choirs touring Europe and beyond. Generally the movements with larger forces are weaker than those with solo voice, which is a combination of poor balance and occasionally un-stylistic singing and playing. What these movements lack (and will inevitably gain with time and familiarity) are made up for by the excellence of the solo movements, exemplary of some of the finest singing in Cambridge. Any devotees of J.S. Bach’s cantatas will not be disappointed by what is on offer from The Choir of St John’s College and the St John’s Sinfonia.


The next Cantata is on Saturday 28 January 2012, at 6.30pm. The Cantata will be Nº 72 – Alles nur nach Gottes Willen.


Related website: http://www.sjcchoir.co.uk/events

Photo credit: http://my.alumni.cam.ac.uk/

Mahler Symphony no. 1 in D major “Titan” (1888)

Non-musicians (civilians we call them) like to get behind the scenes. Sometimes they ask questions that surprise us, such as: “You play for a living — do they pay you for that?” or “What’s your day job?” or one I love especially — when I am home during the day practicing, and I answer a phone call — “Janet did I wake you?”

All of this prompts me to describe a couple of weeks we recently experienced that might shed some light on the rigors of orchestral life. While the time period I’ve chosen was unique, it included a tour to New York City still the musical and physical demands are those that symphony orchestra musicians encounter regularly.


Our orchestra was preparing to go to New York’s Lincoln Center to perform — always exciting, yet nerve racking! We had worked very hard to prepare the program, which included the wonderful, but long — hour-plus — Mahler First Symphony. Our performance was made even longer, because the so-called “Blumine” movement was included. (Mahler had originally composed the “Blumine” section as part of his Symphony No.1, but eventually decided to exclude it; orchestras sometimes restore it to their performances, not only for historical interest, but also for its beauty.)

Buses picked us up to take us to the airport around noon on Saturday. Getting one hundred-plus musicians and staff checked in and through inspection procedures is no small undertaking, especially in these times of heightened security. We managed the process on time, only to discover that our flight was delayed, causing us to arrive at Newark airport an hour late. We were herded onto buses and driven to the hotel in Manhattan. No time but to fall into bed.

Sunday morning, after grabbing a quick coffee and muffin, we boarded buses to Lincoln Center early enough to locate and unpack instrument trunks, warm up a bit for a 12:55 rehearsal, and play the 3:00 afternoon concert. The concert was a big success.

No time to bask in adulation for us, though. We raced to change out of concert attire and to pack up the instrument and wardrobe trunks. We were desperate for a bite to eat, and we would have liked at least a glimpse of the city, but no such luck. The buses were again waiting to whisk us to Newark airport.

Traffic was formidable and so were the lines at the airport. By the time we were prodded and searched and had removed our shoes and got to the gate, we were tired and famished. And guess what? The only available food offerings were in a little coffee shop with a small number of sorry-looking sandwiches and a bar with a surly hostess giving us the business for descending on a Sunday evening in what were, in her mind, unexpected and unacceptable numbers.

We boarded the airplane at 7:00, only to sit on the tarmac for an hour. There were umpteen planes ahead of us. We arrived in the Twin Cities very late.

Monday was a “day off.” Day off??? Are you kidding? I had to work on the Hindemith Mathis der Maler for Tuesday on a work that our orchestra had not done in more than twenty-five years. (As well as the other three works on the program.) I woke up with an intense headache at 7:00 a.m. to get my son to school. Then I got to it, practicing for most of the day while following my own advice for Playing (less) Hurt. Then quickly I ran to pick up my son from school, make dinner and help with homework.

Tuesday the orchestra rehearsed from 10:00 to 3:30. Wednesday the orchestra rehearsed from 10:00 to 3:30. Thursday we performed the program at 11:00 a.m. on our popular Coffee Concerts series. (Yes, that means the orchestra rehearsed the music for the first time on Tuesday, and we were performing it by Thursday.) The Thursday daytime concert was followed by Friday and Saturday night performances of this program. On Sunday, we had another afternoon concert in Orchestra Hall, and this time we performed an entirely different program, a season preview performance. We played a potpourri of selections from our upcoming season — loud and fast pieces, with a million notes, or so it seemed. And we did it with no rehearsal since we had performed this program two months ago. Talk about walking on eggshells.

And then we had one day off, and . . . well, you get my drift. The new week started all over again, with a whole new program to prepare before rehearsals began on Tuesday. Perhaps you noticed that the week I described had three different concert programs, along with an unpredictable and tiring tour schedule. Forget tasks of life such as grocery shopping, house cleaning and bill paying on weeks like these.

Photo credit: http://www.visitingdc.com/

One of my most memorable new year’s day was in the year 2010. I went to a friend’s place to watch a TV broadcast of the New Year Concert, live from Vienna, with several music lovers and critics. Before the concert, we were so excited about it as if we were children again, waiting to be taken to the ‘Neverland’. As soon as our discussion on music and the arts became heated, the program began. The concert took place in the most beautifully decorated Musikverein, with white Lilies in almost every corner of the Groβer Saal. The members of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra were already seated on stage. Then, the 86 year-old George Prêtre slowly walked onto the podium. With a wave of his baton, he led the orchestra to embark on a journey with the delightful waltzes by Strauss. We, in Hong Kong joined in the ride with the audience in the Musikverein and many more listeners around the world. It was magical.

The Vienna New Year’s Concert began in 1939. However, for the first and only time, the inaugural concert took place, not on New Year’s Day, but on December 31 of that year. The Austrian conductor Clemens Krauss led the Vienna Philharmonic to perform an all Johann Strauss II program. Boskovsky, concertmaster of the VPO, conducted the New Year’s Concert from 1955-1979, for 24 years. In 1980, Lorin Maazel became the first non-Austrian conductor of the concert and became one of the most frequently appeared conductors in this major event. In 2005, Lorin Maazel omitted the Radetzky March to pay tribute to the victims of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami. The practice of choosing a different conductor every year began in 1987, after 7 appearances in a row by Maazel. Members of the VPO voted for the conductor of the following year and the result is usually announced at the end of this year’s New Year Concert. The first of these rotating stars was the Austrian maestro Herbert von Karajan, who was in frail health at 78.

George Prêtre

The music of the Vienna New Year’s Concert is dominated by the Strauss family- Johann Strauss I, Johann Strauss II, Josef Strauss and Eduard Strauss. However, occasionally it includes music from other composers, for example, in 2009, the fourth movement of Haydn’s Farewell Symphony was performed to mark the 200th anniversary of his death. The encores usually begin with a fast polka, followed by Strauss II’s The Blue Danube and Strauss I’s Radetsky March, during which the audience claps along under the direction of the conductor. There is not only beautiful music, but also including dance. Pairs of ballet dancers from the Vienna State Opera Ballet usually appear in the second part of the program, adding an elegant touch to the concert.

Originating around the World War period, the Vienna New Year’s Concert was initially conceived for the local Austrians as a source of hope for a better future. Nowadays, it encourages millions of music lovers around the world by bringing joy and optimism for the New Year ahead. If you missed this year’s New Year Concert, you may search for it in Radio Television Hong Kong, Radio 4’s achive (www.rthk.hk). Because we broadcasted it only 4 hours after the concert started in Vienna. The conductor for the 2012 New Year’s Concert in Vienna, is the Latvian conductor, Mariss Jansons. Happy New Year and love to you all!

New Year’s Concert 2011 Vienna Philharmonic (5/5)
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Vienna New Year’s Concert 1987 – Karajan – Part 1/11
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Ravel : Bolero

Sibelius : Oceanides

We musicians just want to make music. We are willing to self-destruct if need be. But the goal is to re-create great music with ease and expressiveness. It’s vital to keep in mind that our violins, cellos, flutes and trombones are only half the musical product. They can do nothing until they interact with our physical, emotional and very human beings.

It is now widely known that it can hurt to play. Playing too much, too intensely, over weeks, months and years can do cumulative damage. Perhaps right now you can launch into any concerto or difficult orchestral work, any time no problem, and pretty much nail everything. Due to a wear and tear in your muscles that occurs over time, however, you may become less able to do these things and you may be at a higher risk for injury. Overuse is a loose term applied to several conditions in which body tissues have been stressed beyond their biological limits. These disorders of the musculoskeletal system can affect bones, joints and such soft tissues as ligaments, tendons and muscles.


Repetitive action, especially when combined with poor posture, excessive force and stress, brings about overuse injuries. And we must take into consideration the intense and competitive nature of our wonderful profession. We’re all trying to play bigger and louder and faster. That adds up! Just as elite athletes can sustain an injury we, too, can be injured, even if we’re doing everything right.


Even we don’t realize the repetition we subject ourselves to on a daily basis:


Ravel’s Bolero brings the house down every time it’s played. The snare drum player always receives an ovation, well deserved. In the fourteen-minute work, the snare drum player repeats a 24-note pattern nonstop from beginning to end. The piece is 430 measures. That’s 5,144 arm strokes. What a feat! Add to that the control necessary to start almost inaudibly at pianissimo and ever-so-gradually increase in volume over fourteen minutes to the piece’s rousing fortissimo conclusion. It requires intense concentration and physical control to play unwaveringly steady in rhythm from start to finish.

In Adam’s Harmonielehre the first 94 bars of Part III have approximately 976 repeated eighth notes for the flute piccolo, piano, harp and clarinet. This during a mere fraction of the work!


Recently, after playing a passage over and over of an obscure work of Sibelius entitled Oceanides I counted the bow strokes: 27 per bar. I knew it was tiring, but this was ridiculous. In 22 measures played in one and a half minutes, there were 589 bow strokes! I approached our Maestro and said “Osmo, from here to here we have to perform 589 bow strokes!” He appeared taken aback for a moment and then replied “Thank you for counting!”


I think I make my point. What the human body can do is incredible! On a daily basis we demand these feats of athleticism, precision, coordination and beauty from our bodies, and yet we are dismayed and astonished when they let us down. What does all this repetition mean, anatomically speaking?


Overuse is the term applied when any tissue, bone, joints or soft tissue such as muscle, ligaments or tendons are stressed beyond their anatomical or physiological limit.


In musicians, overuse is usually the result of multiple factors, which can include excessive force, repetition, high intensity, awkward postures and poor technique. It’s a vicious cycle. Muscles that are overused have exhausted their endurance capacity. Muscles that are fatigued become less efficient and less responsive; thus we try to play with more force. This results in more fatigue and tension, then inflammation and increasing pain and diminishing returns.


Overuse injuries require many weeks of recovery. Players who will not or cannot allow sufficient healing are headed for disaster. Overuse injuries can become chronic. The scenario is all too common.


Loose vs. Tight


Musicians come to the profession in all shapes and sizes. While “tight” or tense individuals may become injured due to shortened muscles, “loose” individuals are vulnerable as well. Joint laxity, or hypermobility (otherwise known as “doublejointedness”), have to work extra hard to prevent knuckles or joints from “buckling” or collapsing. The extra force these players must use to keep fingers rounded puts these musicians at risk for an overuse injury.


Examine your technique to eliminate any unnecessary tension. Get out of awkward postures as soon as you can. Avoiding holding stretches and large chords Do not slam fingers down. Release them as much as possible. Avoid mindless repetition while practicing.


Follow my Five Essential Practice Rules :
- Warm up.
- Take breaks.
- Vary your repertoire.
- Increase your practice load gradually.
- Reduce your practice intensity prior to performance.


How do you know if you are susceptible to an injury? Take my injury susceptibility quiz at www.playinglesshurt.com and find out if your style of playing puts you at risk.


“This is an excerpt from Playing (Less) Hurt by Janet Horvath, published by Hal Leonard Books”