01 The Language of Music
A painter hangs his or her finished pictures on a wall, and everyone can see
it. A composer writes a work, but no one can hear it until it is performed.
Professional singers and players have great responsibilities, for the
composer is utterly dependent on them. A student of music needs as long and
as arduous a training to become a performer as a medical student needs to
become a doctor. Most training is concerned with technique, for musicians
have to have the muscular proficiency of an athlete or a ballet dancer.
Singers practice breathing every day, as their vocal chords would be
inadequate without controlled muscular support. String players practice
moving the fingers of the left hand up and down, while drawing the bow to
and fro with the right arm-two entirely different movements.
Singers and instruments have to be able to get every note perfectly in tune.
Pianists are spared this particular anxiety, for the notes are already
there, waiting for them, and it is the piano tuner’s responsibility to tune
the instrument for them. But they have their own difficulties; the hammers
that hit the string have to be coaxed not to sound like percussion, and each
overlapping tone has to sound clear.
This problem of getting clear texture is one that confronts student
conductors: they have to learn to know every note of the music and how it
should sound, and they have to aim at controlling these sounds with
fanatical but selfless authority.
Technique is of no use unless it is combined with musical knowledge and
understanding. Great artists are those who are so thoroughly at home in the
language of music that they can enjoy performing works written in any
century.
A painter hangs his or her finished pictures on a wall, and everyone can see
it. A composer writes a work, but no one can hear it until it is performed.
Professional singers and players have great responsibilities, for the
composer is utterly dependent on them. A student of music needs as long and
as arduous a training to become a performer as a medical student needs to
become a doctor. Most training is concerned with technique, for musicians
have to have the muscular proficiency of an athlete or a ballet dancer.
Singers practice breathing every day, as their vocal chords would be
inadequate without controlled muscular support. String players practice
moving the fingers of the left hand up and down, while drawing the bow to
and fro with the right arm-two entirely different movements.
Singers and instruments have to be able to get every note perfectly in tune.
Pianists are spared this particular anxiety, for the notes are already
there, waiting for them, and it is the piano tuner’s responsibility to tune
the instrument for them. But they have their own difficulties; the hammers
that hit the string have to be coaxed not to sound like percussion, and each
overlapping tone has to sound clear.
This problem of getting clear texture is one that confronts student
conductors: they have to learn to know every note of the music and how it
should sound, and they have to aim at controlling these sounds with
fanatical but selfless authority.
Technique is of no use unless it is combined with musical knowledge and
understanding. Great artists are those who are so thoroughly at home in the
language of music that they can enjoy performing works written in any
century.