Self-Discovery And The Piano
My piano teacher recommended this book, "With your Own Two Hands: Self-Discovery Through Music" (1981) to her adult students. The author, Seymour Bernstein, is a noted teacher, pianist, composer, and writer. I learned a great deal from this book about the love of music and about piano practice. I have been playing the piano for most of my adult life but only returned with some trepidation to take lessons about four years ago.
This book needs to be read in the way Bernstein recommends approaching a new piece to be learned at the keyboard. Bernstein recommends starting by struggling to read the piece through to get a sense of its musical message and its demands. If it is a piece that the student falls in love with, he or she is ready to begin the hard, detailed work required to learn the music. Bernstein says that "unconditional love" of a piece is required for the work of learning it well. So it is with this book. It needs to be read through as a whole to get a sense of where it is going and to draw the inspiration to persevere. The detailed exercises, specifics, and recommendations are to be approached selectively and over time. There is much to be learned from an initial cover-to-cover reading; but for the pianist, this is not a book that should simply be read through and put aside.
The book proceeds in two related ways that tend to be intertwined throughout. First the book offers broad discussions about music and motivation. Bernstein articulates the value that people find by devoting themselves to the piano. He describes how playing music requires an integration of physical skill, feeling, and thought and then broadens this insight from the piano and music to argue that this integration is required to have a successful, full life. People who perform music seriously, for Bernstein, take one path of the many possible courses of self-realization. It is a necessary path for those devoted to it. There are allusions in the book to philosophy and literature, to meditative and breathing practices and to Zen Buddhism that cast a good deal of light on Bernstein's understanding of music and of practicing the piano.
The second part of the book addresses the specifics of piano practice. Bernstein proceeds from broad considerations, such as improving one's concentration during practice time, to specific detailed instruction on matters such as body and hand position, rhythm and volume, securing the independence of the hands and fingers, voicing chords, pedaling, and much more. The book offers many detailed examples and exercises on aspects of piano technique. These sections ideally must be read over time and in detail in tandem with one's practice and always with a broad view of music-making in mind.
The book is divided into three broad sections dealing with the necessity and motivations for practicing the piano, the discipline required to play at one's best, and performance, including memorization and overcoming nervousness. It is written for pianists at all levels of abilities and talents. Bernstein does not write for performers with virtuoso or professional skills, but he does write for those who take their music seriously. For those who have music as part of their lives and want to share it with others, age and natural ability are secondary considerations at best. Bernstein writes eloquently throughout of amateurs who have busy lives and careers in other fields while making time for the pursuit of music. In the "Finale" of his book he writes of these amateurs:
"Stimulated at the mere thought of turning a musical phrase with control and artistry, they approach their practicing with a religious fervor and a childlike enthusiasm born of an unconditional love. No one forces them to practice; they are drawn to it. Their lives, they admit unashamedly, would be meaningless without music. Such people, though they may be highly accomplished in their chosen fields, are in truth among the most devoted servants of music. It is they who dignify the status of amateurism." (p.283)
Bernstein writes inspiringly and clearly. The book is full of stories and insights, each of which may strike chords for different readers. The book has many anecdotes about one of Bernstein's teachers, the great English pianist, Sir Clifford Curzon. A story that I liked involved Curzon and the music of Schubert, a composer I study.
A student of Bernstein heard Sir Clifford perform Schubert's opus posthumous B-flat major piano sonata. He fell in love with the piece and wrote a poem about it which Bernstein then showed to Curzon. Curzon met the student, thanked him for the poem and said: "It is a grave responsibility to love a composer as much as you love Schubert. You have no other recourse then but to practice diligently so as to give back this love to others through performing." (p.203) The student practiced his Schubert and later told Bernstein:
"I feel that my love for Schubert shows that I comprehend his music in some very special way. And I think it's this that gives me that grave responsibility Sir Clifford spoke about. You see I used to think I had no right even to speak of my feelings for Schubert's music, let alone try to project what I feel to others in my playing. Now, I'm convinced that what I feel is valid. But only by practicing intelligently do I earn the right to communicate my feelings to others." (p.204)
It is a shame that this book currently is out-of-print. It is inspiring to read and will be valuable to serious students of the piano.
Robin Friedman