For Christmas, Mom and Dad got me a Yamaha P-140 digital piano to keep me busy while I'm holed up in my apartment. It's early February, and I've used it easily every day. The Jacobs School is very accommodating of intruders such as myself, but it's not easy to block out time to head over to the practice rooms. So, here we are. The Yamaha has a remarkably authentic grand piano touch, so it's hard to say I miss the grand piano that much.
That takes care of touch, which, really, only I care about. You needn't, unless for some reason it's important to you that I'm happy. The realistic grand piano sound is the work product of some tireless Germans (what isn't?). Akoustik Piano is a software package put out by Native Instruments, which consists of thousands of clips, called samples, of real pianos, miked in all kinds of combinations of arrangements (lid open, lid closed, lid short-sticked, close up, far away, hitting the notes softly, hitting them loudly, etc.). They even tack on the faint sound the keyboard action makes when a key is pressed and depressed, and when the damper pedal is raised and lowered.
When I connect the digital piano to a computer running the software with a MIDI interface, I hear a nine-foot Steinway concert grand, without $100,000 of debt. Really, the final product is akin to cutting and pasting each note and stringing them together.
After recording, the software exports my playing to a WAV file. My personal preference is to compress these to MP3 format, which sound just as good in a substantially smaller size. I keep the WAVs anyway in case I may need to speed them up to impress someone, or perhaps transpose a piece to a different key for a really fun Friday night.
If the download doesn't work, let me know and I'll send you a copy. Also, if you hear any instrument other than a piano, it's not me, and you should probably give it back.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Robert Schumann, Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6
I can't admit to knowing much about the Schumann's Davidsbündlertänze (literally, "Dances of the Davidsbündler," however much that helps), other than they're a set of 18 miniature pieces Bobby composed early on. Some say that his solo piano output early in his career, which was probably when he was most piano-focused, is his strongest work. I don't know. It's all good.
Four years before these pieces were composed, Schumann finished his brilliant Toccata (YouTube), which is that rare combination of incredibly difficult and musically awesome. So we can be sure that by 1837, when he was 27, Bob was on a roll.
I decided to record seven of the pieces. I haven't played or studied them seriously; they're short, pretty approachable, and take less time to record than, well, longer things.
There are two versions of the Davidsbündlertänze. In the first version, Schumann labeled each piece with the character each represented: Florestan was the passionate, fiery, crazy guy, and Eusebius was the romantic, soft one. The whole thing strikes me as a little over the top — Brahms would've agreed, and perhaps Schumann did too, as these indications are absent from the second version. For kicks, I've marked the pieces I've recorded with "F." or "E.", as the composer did in the manuscript copy. If this interests you, indulge in the Wikipedia link above. Take that information with a grain of salt, though, because some things in the article are plain false. The suite doesn't end with "12 low C's." I count three.
Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6
Composed 1837
II. Con intimo sentimento (B minor) — E. — mp3
IV. Con impazienza (B minor) — F. — mp3
VIII. Con freschezza (C minor) — F. — mp3
X. Alla ballata; Molto vivo (D minor) — F. — mp3
XI. Semplice (D major) – E. — mp3
XIV. Dolce e cantando (E-flat major) — E. — mp3
XVIII. Non presto (C major) — E.* — mp3
* Over the 18th and last piece Schumann wrote: "Quite redundantly Eusebius added the following; but great happiness shone in his eyes the while."
A free PDF of the score (second ed., probably published by Breitkopf & Härtel) can be found here — click "Complete score of all pieces."
Four years before these pieces were composed, Schumann finished his brilliant Toccata (YouTube), which is that rare combination of incredibly difficult and musically awesome. So we can be sure that by 1837, when he was 27, Bob was on a roll.
I decided to record seven of the pieces. I haven't played or studied them seriously; they're short, pretty approachable, and take less time to record than, well, longer things.
There are two versions of the Davidsbündlertänze. In the first version, Schumann labeled each piece with the character each represented: Florestan was the passionate, fiery, crazy guy, and Eusebius was the romantic, soft one. The whole thing strikes me as a little over the top — Brahms would've agreed, and perhaps Schumann did too, as these indications are absent from the second version. For kicks, I've marked the pieces I've recorded with "F." or "E.", as the composer did in the manuscript copy. If this interests you, indulge in the Wikipedia link above. Take that information with a grain of salt, though, because some things in the article are plain false. The suite doesn't end with "12 low C's." I count three.
Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6
Composed 1837
II. Con intimo sentimento (B minor) — E. — mp3
IV. Con impazienza (B minor) — F. — mp3
VIII. Con freschezza (C minor) — F. — mp3
X. Alla ballata; Molto vivo (D minor) — F. — mp3
XI. Semplice (D major) – E. — mp3
XIV. Dolce e cantando (E-flat major) — E. — mp3
XVIII. Non presto (C major) — E.* — mp3
* Over the 18th and last piece Schumann wrote: "Quite redundantly Eusebius added the following; but great happiness shone in his eyes the while."
A free PDF of the score (second ed., probably published by Breitkopf & Härtel) can be found here — click "Complete score of all pieces."
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