Marco to inaugurate guitar program at Killington Music Festival

Marco will be running the guitar program at Killington Music Festival, the 36-year-old chamber music festival for strings and piano in Killington, Vermont. From June 29 to July 26. Come take private and group lessons, participate in guitar- and mixed-ensembles, perform, attend concerts and masterclasses by guest artists, and explore beautiful Vermont with diverse planned activities. For more information, audition requirements, scholarship opportunities and more, please visit kmfest.org.

Augustine Artist

Marco is now an Augustine Artist. Check out his profile here. And try some great Augustine strings for yourself!

A lesson from Hindemith

The fourth movement of Paul Hindemith’s Viola Sonata Op. 25 No.1 reads: “Rasendes Zeitmass. Wild. Tonschönheit ist Nebensache.” It closely translates to “Frantic pace. Wild. Beauty of sound is a minor matter.” The indication leaves no doubt about the intense character or the piece. I find the last phrase to be especially meaningful: although Hindemith wants an exuberant interpretation, he does not directly request to play with a harsh or uncared-for sound; he rather places tone quality as a secondary element.

Since Hindemith was a violist, his indication comes from knowledge and experience. I think there is something for us to learn in its “cautionary” nature: beauty of sound might come at the expense of a necessary wild character and relentless tempo. In other words, based on his own experience, Hindemith could probably imagine violists focusing on maintaining a proper sound quality, and, in so doing, hindering other more important aspects of the work.

I wonder how many of our performances would benefit from keeping a similar mindset. Whether we are beginners, intermediate or advanced players, there are instances when the desire to achieve or maintain our best tone might negatively affect other aspects of our music-making. Let’s discuss a few of them.

Tone quality claims a predominant part of our attention from day one. Certainly, we all want to produce beautiful sounds from the moment we first hold a guitar. As beginner students, we are usually told that sound beauty is of foremost importance. Many methods and teachers explicitly ask us to sound beautifully as early as possible. Intuitively, we think that we are doing something wrong if we buzz or sound harsh notes. (Beginners might not know if they are placing their fingers correctly, but they do notice if notes sound badly.) Therefore, from the first lessons, sound quality becomes a guiding element for us. It is how we get a sense of whether we are doing things correctly or not.

This can be counterproductive. For example, beginners commonly seek to press firmly on every note in order to avoid buzzing. This leads them to rely on stronger left-hand muscles instead of gradually developing the other muscles involved in a more correct –albeit less intuitive– technique. A recurrent example is pressing with flat fingers instead of pressing with the fingertips: in doing so, beginners can use stronger muscles and play more accurately, since a flat finger covers a bigger area than a fingertip. Yet this approach only delays the necessary acquisition of the necessary curved-fingers technique. Slurs are another example: trying to get both plucked and slurred notes to sound cleanly, students might fix their fingers stiffly, relying mainly on arm and wrist motions. A proper slurring technique requires the hammering or pulling finger to move freely, yet this is difficult to achieve on day one–at least with enough sound clarity and volume. A faster and more effective training is to start with slower and targeted motions (which inevitably produce either muted or buzzing notes) until the appropriate muscles are developed and the corresponding motor skills have been acquired and can be engaged at one’s will. Yet another example is barring: students might assume that they are doing it correctly only when all the notes sound clearly, hence applying extra pressure, and positioning their untrained hands inefficiently. A more effective approach could be to completely separate the study of barre positions from pieces, and if our students learn a piece that contains them, allow them to play through them without pressing hardly (muting or buzzing the notes in those passages) and encourage them to focus instead on achieving the correct timing and phrasing.

A point to keep in mind is that beginners must manage and learn many different things, but our brains can only control one thing at a time. It is important to insist on proper placement when developing our students’ technique, although inevitably some of the notes will not sound clean. Encourage them to focus on placement and proper motions, pushing sound quality as a secondary concern for the time being.

After our students reach an intermediate level, one of the most difficult things to teach is to “sing.” Artfully connecting notes, making lines lyrical, is an elusive goal for many players. I believe many times this problem is compounded by an overriding attention on sound quality. Singers or string players, by the sustaining nature of their instruments, necessarily focus on how notes tie with each other. It is readily evident if a note is louder or has a different color than the previous one, even when one is solely focusing on the quality of each individual note. Since the guitar produces quickly decaying sounds, oftentimes a note has faded before the next one (belonging to the same line) is played. (And, being a harmonic instrument, other notes might have been played between the two notes that are part of the line.) Therefore guitarists can focus just as much as singers or string players on the ‘purity’ of individual notes, yet easily miss the connection among them. Again, we can only focus on one thing at the time; I believe that taking the attention off of producing always beautiful notes, and encouraging a more horizontal hearing, can help our students achieve that evading goal of lyricism.

Advanced players can sacrifice other musical aspects as well in their pursuit of maintaining their best sound at all moments. A common occurrence is constantly optimizing the angle in which each of our fingers attack the different strings, which is done in order to obtain the best possible sound out of every  note. Since the optimal attack angle of each finger is different, we might unconsciously add tension and/or complexity to our right hand by constantly micro-adjusting for each stroke, depending on which finger acts at a given moment. Chances are that this intricate task affects the phrasing or fluency of our performances. As an experiment, play one of the most complex right-hand pieces in your repertory, and focus on right-hand relaxation, regardless of the sound quality not being optimal or uniform among the fingers. Check if you find it easier to play and, more importantly, if you find that the music flows more naturally as a result. I believe that, given the proper time and attention, this experiment can be quite revealing.

Finally, going back to Hindemith’s indication, let us remember that he does not directly ask to play with a harsh or similar sound, but rather not to make beauty of sound a priority. We should indeed work on achieving and maintaining our best tone quality, but always pondering whether that delays or prevents achieving other desirable goals, such as the acquisition of proper technical skills or the timing, relaxation and flow of our performances.

Featured Article on next issue of Soundboard

Check out the next issue of Soundboard (44.1), the magazine of the Guitar Foundation of America. In a featured article, Marco discusses how to recognize, evaluate and treat the constant sympathetic resonances that occur in our playing, with practical examples taken from Fernando Sor’s Lessons Op. 31.

Numbers Versus Images

Our brains like numbers. Whether we engage in scientific, artistic, sporting or other activities, we focus on aspects that can be measured–meaning assigned a numerical value. These quantifiable aspects allow us to make objective assessments of our performances (in music or in other fields) and, in turn, compare our performances to those of others. Our music development is subject to quantifiable aspects as well, making us focus on “numeric” goals: we want to play faster, or louder, practice more hours, miss fewer notes, play more pieces.

These parameters are, of course, isolated aspects of music-making. They do not mean anything in themselves. Think of the performer who can play fast, loudly and accurately, and yet does not really “make music.” What we ultimately value most are rather immeasurable concepts, such as the expressiveness of a performance, its eloquence, clarity or coherence, the atmospheres it creates, its stylistic adherence, and others. Also, consider all of the character words in movement indications: Allegro spiritoso, Adagio cantabile, etc. How can we measure a spiritoso or a cantabile?

It might be revealing to think of these immeasurable concepts as the combination of many quantifiable parameters working together. In other words, when we work on a parameter (speed, dynamic, timbre) we are only covering one aspect of the many that constitute a performance. Therefore, this dissecting, although quite necessary in our technique practice sessions, is inherently incomplete at an interpretative level. Obvious as this might sound, it is often overlooked in lessons.

It is easy to refer to isolated parameters when teaching, since they offer immediate solutions by making students to focus on one specific task. However, this approach hardly teaches our students anything truly valuable, and can occasionally mislead them. And there are many instances where we resort to these parameters, since they are many and inconspicuous. Seemingly immeasurable elements, such as the vibrato on a note, or an accelerando in a passage, are ultimately quantifiable in some sense (we can measure the speed and width of a vibrato, or the gradient of an accelerando). If we instead refer to immeasurable concepts in our lessons, we push our students to consider the resulting effect of multiple parameters instead of focusing only on one. This makes them contemplate the broad picture rather than isolated means, deploying their critical thinking and developing their full artistry. The following examples might illustrate.

Suppose that a student is playing a passage too slowly; the music drags and sounds disconnected. The immediate solution is to indicate that the passage should be faster. Speed is a parameter (we can assign it a metronome value) and next time the student’s focus will be, exclusively, on playing the passage faster. Instead, if we say that the passage drags, or sounds heavy, or needs to flow, or any other imagery we find appropriate, we make our student think on ways to remedy that. The first advantage is that by not offering a quick solution (to play faster), we make the student imagine the goal (a flowing interpretation of such passage) instead of immediately focusing on an isolated element (speed). Yet more importantly, the full solution might not only require playing faster, but also involve other aspects such as the use of rubato, dynamic inflections, agogic accents, and other devices. These are not included in the directive “play faster” and a student would hardly consider them when responding to it.

Another example: if we ask a student to play a passage softer, he or she will do it, resorting to a sort of inner decibel meter in order to calibrate the playing volume. We might know why the passage needs to be softer–perhaps it needs to portray an intimate, introverted character. But the student will hardly think about this; artistry will be set aside and the full attention will turn to playing with less force. If we instead say that the passage needs, for example, to convey intimacy, our student will have to imagine ways to achieve intimacy through sound, and playing softer will come as a natural consequence of understanding the passage’s character. Again, playing softly might be the most noticeable aspect, but is only one of many parameters that need to work together to convey intimacy–soft does not necessarily mean intimate. By thinking about intimacy instead of volume, playing softer will appear in combination with other aspects, such as a warmer tone, rubato, legato, vibrato, etc.

As teachers, our goal is to form independent artists, who someday will no longer need us for interpretative guidance; we should invite their artistry and encourage their critical thinking as often as possible.