The 'Cello Suites

The very first record I ever bought was Walter Gerwig's recording on the lute (Nonesuch H-71137). It must have been 1968, a couple of years after Gerwig died. That record was a musical revelation to me. Lutes in the 1960's were very rare, so I went for the next thing: the guitar.

I dropped the instrument I was studying, the zither, for the guitar. Let's think about the choice: ländlers, waltzes, and polkas on an obscure
German folk instrument, or Bach on the much more trendy guitar... I didn't look back for many years.

What especially caught my attention was Gerwig's arrangement of the first 'cello suite. I have loved that suite in particular ever since. However, it was many years before I heard it performed on its intended instrument, the baroque 'cello. My motivation to hear it on 'cello was weak: I think baroque lute transcriptions of the 'cello suites bring out the best in that music. This is sure the raise the hackles of 'cello lovers and purists alike, although it is worth pointing out that there is evidence that at least one of the suites was transcribed with Bach's knowledge, if not blessing. I can't imagine Sebastian Bach himself approving of any argument by purists: music was music and the medium was always negotiable, subject to availability.

My first 'cello recording was Jaap ter Linden's. A fine recording with an excellent sound on the harmonia mundi label. Simplicity and directness prevail, but I have found that recording to be intellectually satisfying, but it hasn't engaged me enough to choose it over my recording by Nigel North on baroque lute. (Hopkinson Smith hasn't recorded all of the 'cello suites, but those he has recorded are personal favorites.)

However, a more recent recording by Tanya Tomkins is another story. She plays more broadly and with greater warmth. The San Diego Early Music Society recently hosted a concert by Tomkins that was especially well attended. It is generally difficult to draw large audiences for solo performances, so the question was whether the draw was the 'cello suites themselves, or perhaps was it stimulated by the very recent book,  The Cello Suites: J. S. Bach, Pablo Casals, and the Search for a Baroque Masterpiece, by Eric Siblin? I'll write about this book once I have read it.

Something I have noticed is that not everyone appreciates the 'cello suites equally. If you are a 'cellist, I don't doubt that they are the penultimate oeuvre for Bach, if not all of music. If you are a keyboard player, they may be viewed as not  not "sophisticated enough." While lacking contrapuntal complexity, they embody the best of Bach's tunefulness and both harmonic and technical resourcefulness.

Those who follow this blog know that I eventually returned to the zither. Indeed, I am studying the first 'cello suite on it. I can't resist concluding with a video of Harald Oberlechner performing the prelude:

Half an Instrument

Zither by Peter Ziegler

Aging slows us down. Mastering an instrument later in life is an exercise in both patience and frustration. It is easy to set unrealistic expectations, grow discouraged, then move on the other (and less challenging) pastimes. I know, because I am constantly tempted. However, the resonance of any fine acoustic instrument is a Siren call.

Everyone claims their instrument is the most difficult to master. I don't doubt it, but the zither is essentially a combination of two instruments: a metal strung guitar-like instrument and a wrapped nylon string harp-like instrument. Each half has its own tuning and technique. Making them work together can be discouraging at times.

I have two zithers. One is a traditional design, which does an amazing job at creating a good and solid sound within the limitations of traditional design. My second, and more recent, zither casts traditional standards aside: it is built for sound. I switch practicing between the two zithers, but when I move to the newer, larger, and more resonant instrument I find myself wishing I could do more with that gorgeous sound.

The challenge is that the metal strings on the fretboard are the primary source of melody on the zither. The rest of the instrument–which actually accounts for 88% of the strings–is relegated to the role of accompaniment. Recently, it dawned on me that I could enjoy this harp-like side of the zither all by itself, playing melodies with my right hand without any worry of the left. Who's going to stop me: the Practice Police? So, I have started doing exactly that: playing half the instrument. Not only have I luxuriated in the sound of these open strings, it is obviously a good way to learn the idiosyncratic arrangement of strings.

Mahler in Vienna

Vienna Westbahnhof

Vienna! I've been home over a month and part of me is still there. Is there a more beautiful, civilized, and musical city? I doubt it.

This is not a city to quickly pass through as a superficial sightseer looking for cheap thrills, although one could easily do so and leave satiated.  This is a city of history and nuance. I really needed to spend two weeks, not three days, there. The strange thing is that I didn't put myself in the context of Froberger, Mozart, or Beethoven, but rather I found myself obsessed with Gustav Mahler. Okay, I must admit, I brought Jens Malte Fischer's biography of Mahler with me. That was asking for trouble.

Mahler, you might ask... Mahler?! Yes, it's true: Mahler is something of a guilty pleasure, I guess a bit like Glenn Gould. Both have such sublime moments, interrupted by their theatrics. When I was diagnosed with cancer six years ago, the first thing I bought through the iTunes store was Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde to carry me through the tests and hospitalization. A little macabre, but fitting.

Actually, identifying contemporary Vienna with Mahler, rather than the other big names of music, makes sense: today's surviving architecture is much closer to Mahler's time, the end of the 19th century. I got perhaps a slight flavor of Beethoven's time when I traveled through Grinzing and the Vienna Woods to Heiligenstadt, but it was fleeting. Walking down the Ringstrasse one could just imagine the diminutive Mahler charging down the street, self-absorbed in the turbulent  politics of the Opera, struggling to create a revolutionary musical symphonic language, and probably tied in knots over the lovely and complex Alma.

Of course, I read La Grange's first volume of Mahler's life many years ago. Biographies of Mahler are a wonderful opportunity to explore an important and complex time of political, social, and artistic transition in Europe.  Wikipedia provides a particularly good summary of Mahler's life, minus all of the cultural details.

If I were to time travel, the two places I would visit would be Vienna and Paris right around the dawn of the 20th century. What I wouldn't give to fulfill that image of Mahler charging down the Ringstrasse!

Playing Favorites

We all play favorites–favorite periods, composers, instruments, and of course performers. So, I will unabashedly declare Benjamin Alard a favorite: he has never let me down and his latest recording, which includes Bach's Italian Concerto and French Overture, only confirms my opinion.

The problem with declaring favorites is that it discredits my impartiality. Fortunately, I have never suggested that I tried to be an impartial reviewer in this blog. Furthermore, impartiality in musical taste is an illusion, at best, and self-deception, at worst.

A good blind test happens when I am playing a recording and my wife asks, "Who is this? He really has something to say!" Indeed, what I find with Alard is that he really has something to say even with over-performed and over-recorded pieces. He has that calm sensibility that makes music sound natural and unforced. Some will prefer the show-off, the conscious virtuoso; Alard may not appeal to them.

This recording consists of two very popular and over-recorded Bach works. Their popularity, like the Partitas, is well-founded: Bach at his best. Both tend to bring out the over-dramatic, often resulting in a somewhat manic Italian Concerto and melodramatic French Overture. Alard plays these as music that he loves and needs no hamming-up. They just make sense.

The instrument is an unspecified German design by Anthony Sidey that provides a warm clarity to the music. A "German design" could mean a number of things, but I suspect this instrument is inspired by Mietke, which would mean it has brass strings, giving it an "italianate" sound. The Alpha recording captures the sound very nicely.

This recording leaves me with a dilemma: I love Alard's recordings of the Clavier Übung I and II. Book III is, of course, the Goldberg Variations. I have imposed something of a moratorium on Goldberg recordings: I already have at least a dozen recordings. I need another one like I need...

Tuner Redux

Peterson iStroboSoft on iPod Touch

Tuning is an important topic for musicians. The lucky ones worry about setting the pitch of one note and hopefully the instrument takes care of the rest of it. Stringed instruments such as the violin and viola are only slightly more challenging. I am over-simplifying: while the instrument itself may be in tune, the inadequate player may play it out of tune. We all know that flutes and clarinets can be played horribly out of tune! So, maybe they aren't so lucky.

If you are dealing with an instrument with multiple fixed pitches, such as a keyboard instrument, harp, guitar or lute, tuning can become an obsession. One would think that you could have a set of tuning forks, one for each note, and all would be well. It's not that easy, as you will see, because a note isn't a note, but rather a collection of frequencies.

If you are simply a listener, tuning is something you either take for granted or complain about when it's not right. I think it is worth understanding some of the challenges, even for the listener.

Electronic tuners have been a big boon to musicians. We used to carry around tuning forks. While die-hards may still do so, most tuning forks were no more accurate and are more awkward to use than an electronic tuner. I have heard many complain that electronic tuners have been a bad influence on the current generations of musicians, that as a result, musicians are no longer listening as they were forced to in the past.  I'm a cynic. I don't think the lazy are any more lazy as a result of electronic tuners: they blissfully played badly tuned instruments regardless of available technology.

However, it is easy to be too trusting about what an electronic tuner will do for you. There is an inherent challenge: any given note is actually a combination of frequencies, referred to as overtones or partials. The mixture of these paritals and their relative intensities have a lot to do with the character of the sound, not to mention its tuning. If you consider only one partial (usually the fundamental) in tuning, you aren't going to really be in tune.

It has been a couple of years since I have written about electronic tuners; Too Many Tuners provides my 2009 perspective. My challenge has been that the only tuner met all of my needs was my Verituner 100, a nearly 4 pound monstrosity that was hard to read, awkward to place because of its size and weight, and because it was such a specialized instrument that I used only occasionally, the battery was continually running down. Also, it was a very expensive device, and so used mostly by piano tuners who made their life tuning.

I tried the Reyburn CyberTuner (RCT) software on a PC laptop in the hopes that it would address my needs. This was software that my former piano tuner lived by, essentially the equivalent of the Verituner, but on a PC. Not only was it incredibly expensive, as all of the professional tuning solutions are, the manufacturer was (and is) so paranoid about piracy that access was controlled by a "dongle" that limited use to one device at a time. I don't doubt that RCT is excellent for the professional piano tuner, but it simply didn't work with clavichords and was awkward at best with harpsichords. That was an expensive experiment. Don't take this as a criticism of Reyburn: they do not advertise it for anything other than piano tuning. As for the paranoia, I'm sure there is good cause, but one can't help but wonder just how dishonest piano tuners are!

My venerable Perterson 490ST has remained in the closet for years. I love this device in concept, as you can actually see what is going on as you tune. Talk about heavy and awkward: this is not a portable tuner! Peterson's "virtual strobe tuner" on my iPod provides a quick and accurate solution, but for only one  partial at a time, and you can't select the partial. It is a "strobe" only in that it has a display reminiscent of a true strobe tuner, but only one of the frequency bands will correctly represent one of the partials at a time. On a real strobe tuner each band represents one of the partials and will independently drift clockwise or counter-clockwise relative to the target pitch.

There are plenty of small and inexpensive tuners that measure only one partial at a time. They may be very accurate for a single partial, but there are a couple of problems with this. First of all, the fundamental, or first partial, may not be (in fact is rarely) the loudest, nor may the loudest be even be the second, but perhaps will be the third partial, which is an octave and a fifth above the fundamental. (Indeed, the lower the fundamental, often the the upper partials are stronger.)

The other problem is that few, if any, of the partials will match their theoretical frequency because of inharmonicity. You can see this quite dramatically on a true strobe tuner. So, what happens if the actual third partial sounds flatter than the theoretical because of string properties and you tune to it? The fundamental will be out of tune. Piano tuners get very good at making adjustments and compromises through a highly trained ear and various tricks-of-the-trade.

Verituner for iPhone/iPod

I was overjoyed to see that Veritune had released an app for the iPhone/iPod Touch. Think of the Verituner as a spectrum analyzer that builds a model of the partials for all of the notes, then calculates targets based on other parameters you give it, such as temperament and "stretch." This is complex and sophisticated and definitely overkill if all you want to do is set the notes on a guitar or violin.

Expensive? You bet! However, the current cost is about a third of what the VT100 "Black Box" cost. It works identically and I found it is actually faster on my iPod Touch. It tuned my clavichord without problem. This led me to try it on my zither, a seemingly unlikely candidate. However, it has plenty of strings with the classic challenge of inharmonicity.

While I have tuned many clavichords and harpsichords with the Verituner, my attempts at tuning a piano have been less successful, largely because of the mechanics of setting the pitch. Be warned: putting this app on your iPhone does not make you a piano tuner! With patience and practice you might do a credible job, but trust me, it is a lot of work. If I still had a piano, I'd pay a professional!

Moving from the Fringe

My musical life has been dominated by fringe instruments: my fault. By "fringe," I mean instruments that aren't in the mainstream, that have a limited repertoire, but are struggling for wider acceptance. My first instrument, the zither, seems like an extreme case. My next instrument – and the one that I studied formally, the guitar – was only slightly better at the time. The guitar has since climbed to credibility through a series of important evolutionary leaps:

• The overall level of technical competence of guitarists has significantly improved. Sure, there are plenty of amateurs who play as badly as ever, but one doesn't have to go far to find a really good performer.
• The overall level of musicianship has significantly improved. At the risk of really upsetting the devotees of Segovia, I think he pandered to a musically unsophisticated crowd with a an arsenal of charming miniatures played in an excessively romantic (or flat-out schmaltzy) manner. I think it took a Julian Bream and John Williams to demonstrate virtuosity without such gimmickry.
• The repertoire expanded beyond clever transcriptions to important music. True, the masses demand many of the "old classics" and there are some transcriptions, such as the music of Albéniz and Granados, that work as well or better on the guitar, but there has been a lot of bonafide new and important new repertoire. (In fairness to Segovia, he deserves a lot credit for promoting new literature for the instrument.)

While I am inspired by the potential for the zither, and especially the sound of more modern instruments, I am dismayed by what I am seeing (and hearing), now that I have reentered that small community: the zither is stuck on the fringe and is in danger of extinction. Harsh words, I know.

Searching on YouTube – an increasingly important resource for instruments and music not easily heard elsewhere – one can't help but be overwhelmed by amateur performances: usually traditional music performed adequately, at best,  poorly, at worst. Further searching on the Internet uncovers some self-produced CDs of zither music, again mostly performed at an embarrassingly low level of technique and musicality. By comparison, a number of lesser-known instruments – some of them almost comical in their limitations – have stunning videos that demonstrate levels of virtuosity and musicality that boggle the mind.

There is a small community of zither players who are amongst the best musicians I have met anywhere. They prove that it is an instrument of complexity, power, and subtlety. However, so long as the prevalent media is dominated by amateur performances of little folk songs and arrangements, the future looks grim. My challenge to the virtuosi of the zither is to make those YouTube videos and post them, even if they aren't perfect: they will be much better than most of what's there and maybe establish a little more credibility and move the instrument away from the fringe.

Collecting Instruments

It is rare for musicians to own just one instrument. No two are alike, each has its own personality, its  own attributes. Of course, this isn't very practical with larger instruments, like keyboards. Even there, I have a friend with four harpsichords, each unique.

I think most of us start off thinking the first instrument is everything we want: sufficient in itself. Then we spot another that is somehow different, special in its own way. Desire turns into obsession, and we find ourselves with a new family member.

Of course, professional musicians have good cause. There are, for example, different sizes of instruments and any serious musician needs each. Or, there are different styles; in the case of my harpsichord-owning friend, there are many different styles, or flavors, each with a distinctive sound and touch.

So, I found myself staring at a new zither near Munich just this week. I knew instantly that I had to have it. It was sufficiently different from my more traditional instrument, with a magnificent sound and a nicer touch. It is what is referred to as a "Psalterzither," a modern design first developed by Ernst Volkmann. It is bigger, more clear and resonant than my "Luftresonanz-Concert Zither." In 60-second interval I considered whether I could afford to spend the money and take it home with me; I quickly decided "yes" and "I'll do whatever it takes." There really was no hesitation.

Was this a practical decision? No. Did I need another zither? No. Yet, like others I find myself strangely energized: simply owning a new instrument evokes new possibilities, renewed commitments to practice more, an increased sense of investment. The instrument is a thing of beauty in itself.

I'm not the first to buy an instrument I really don't need (nor is this my first time!), nor am I the last. Man is naturally a collector. Of course, I have to be wary: while I have the two major different styles of the zither in this size (diskant), there are at least three other sizes: bass, alto, and quint. Indeed, I considered an alto zither, but it is just too big for me, and would have been a nightmare to get home. I know of few lutenists with just one lute, no serious recorder player has just one recorder, and even guitarists often have multiple instruments, perhaps each more similar than different.

I point this out to convince myself that I'm not crazy. At least not crazier than others.