Thoughts on performing
from
Sharon Isbin, Ben Verdery, and Bill Kanengiser
by Mark Small
—Mark Small
Putting together a program
Sharon Isbin:
“The repertoire I am playing at the time is based on the recordings I have released in that period. I am always trying to include works written for me that aren’t part of the standard repertoire. I balance the listenablity of the works so as to not ask too much of the listener. I want them to enjoy the performance. Placement on the program is important too. If I am playing a piece that demands more of the listener, like a work by Tan Dun, I will place it after intermission. That is a good place to feature that kind of work. I have never thought placing pieces in chronological order was necessary. There are more creative ways to approach programing. I think the opener has to be something that is immediately engaging for the audience and something that the performer 100 percent comfortable with. Sometimes my concerts are programatic, like when I play with Brazilian percussionist Thiago de Mello. When I am playing a program like that, I am not going to put in a Bach lute suite.”
Ben Verdery:
“Always program music you love. If you program a piece to impress an audience or for any reason other than that you love it, the audience will probably sense that. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t take chances. Sometimes you may not know how you feel about the piece until you do perform it. If you consider the relationship you have to the music like that which you have with a person, it should grow through the years. “Sometimes the time to put a piece down becomes clear to you. You have to know when to move on. There are some pieces that I could play forever. It seems that when I come back to it, the notes have somehow changed. I feel that way about any piece by Bach. I have been playing a piece by Ingram Marshall called “Soepa,” and I can’t play it enough. I just enjoy it so much. You cannot lie to yourself or your audience. There has to be something in the music that moves you and you communicate that to the audience. In a way, the pieces should pick you. When you hear such a piece, you know that you and that piece will get along well for a long time. A lot of us like to think that we can be great interpreters of all music. But at the end of the day, you’ll find that your heart is more into one particular set of pieces or style more than another.”
Bill Kanengiser:
“The program you heard me play last night (April 2003) is very unusual, each half is in a different style. I like there to be a flow and a natural progression to the program. I try to avoid pieces that people have heard a million times. It is important to have things that people can relate to and are familiar with. I like to balance that out with new sounds and textures, and works by new composers. The new material should not put the listener off, but should be likable. My current program is half Spanish music and half newer, jazz-inspired music. I was careful about what I started and ended with and that there were moments of repose. I also took into consideration the progression of keys between pieces. I remember going to a guitar concert once where I realized about halfway through that every piece was in D. It is a subtle thing, but after a while, you realize that it grates on you.
Pre-concert nerves
Isbin:
“Nerves are not an issue for me. Preparation is the key. The bottom line is that when you walk out on stage, you should feel confident that you know everything you need to know and that you will be able to play at your very best. To reach that point is an elaborate process that involves planning and preparation going back months. Mental preparation and memorization are important for me. I want to get to the point two weeks before the concert that I can sit without the guitar or the music and visualize all of the right- and left-hand fingerings as I hear the notes in my mind without any flaws from beginning to end of the program. I might begin this several months before the concerts. If I have to learn a piece in less time, I may do this kind of work for several hours each day. Once I am at this point two weeks before the concert, I will review the whole program like this everyday. It is a great way to create an ideal aural vision in your mind of how you want the music to sound—phrasing, tempo, articulation, dynamics, shaping. If you can create it in your mind, you have a much better chance of creating it when you are on stage.”
Verdery:
We feel we are going to be judged and someone will tell us we stink and it will destroy us. Our emotional life can get wrapped up in the opinion someone forms after hearing us play. I don’t think about this at all though. I think it should be discussed by teachers and their students. When you sit down to play, there is an undeniable formality to it. When you start t play people listen. We don’t create that formality enough in our practice rooms. The gap between what happens in the practice room and what happens onstage has to be narrowed. When I don’t play a concert for a month or more, I feel the gap has been widened, and I’ve lost my edge. When you sit in front of a bunch of people, you can feel their energy. So you concentrate four times more than you do in the practice room and your adrenaline is going. These things create a completely different mindset. That is why people have so much focus when they play. Performing live is such an exciting thing to do. We become junkies for it because we can’t get over that feeling of presence of mind. You are very present in a concert and that is a great thing. When you practice, you tend to daydream and be less present.
Kanengiser:
“I am getting better at it. I am not paralyzed by it. There is always this moment where you feel like you have jumped into a cold lake. About 20 or 30 seconds into the first piece you get this out-of-body experience. Nerves don’t affect me too badly now after playing so many concerts. What I find is that when you least expect it—like in the second half—a concentration error will happen and there will be a sudden dip in confidence. That’s what I fight against now. I find that if you start doubting yourself, your fingers will over-compensate by pressing to hard and tightening up. Your phrasing goes and the tempo goes and you feel like you are hanging on by your fingernails. As soon as I feel the confidence start to ebb, I try to take a deep breath and focus on the phrasing. I try to ignore the doubts. It is a constant struggle. “Performing is hard because you have this constant mental chatter fighting against what you are trying to do musically. Every once in a while you will find this crystalline perfect mindset where you are in the music and expressing it completely and you are there 100, percent. But it doesn’t last for a whole night. It is what is going on in your head—comparing this performance to other performances, and various distractions—that is the real battle while you are playing. When this takes over, it keeps you from playing your best.”
Sharon Isbin
The pre-concert warmup
“The day of a solo recital where I will play the music from memory, a few hours before the performance I will play through the entire program a little under tempo for the fast movements and at tempo for the moderate and slow movements. I’ll also play very, very softly so that my fingers will be as relaxed as possible. You’d be amazed at the effect that has. By the time I walk out on stage, my fingers are so relaxed. That way I have saved my energy for the performance, which is important for stamina. That is all I need to do, I don’t do the mental exercises. This way I can keep the performance as fresh as possible. For a concert where I will play a concerto with an orchestra, it is a different story. There will usually be a rehearsal with the orchestra. But that usually only lasts 20 to 40 minutes. So I have never had a stamina issue to consider for the performance. If I give my all at a rehearsal, I’ll still be able to do it again at the performance. I think it is important to inspire the orchestra and not hold back in the rehearsal. In the moments before I go on, I try to keep my fingers moving on the instrument as I wait for the orchestra to finish their opener. I mute the strings with a chamois so no one can hear me as I play slurs and scales. I do not play any of the music I am going to be playing that evening. In the 20 minutes before I go out, I play other music or scales and exercises. If you feel at that point that you have to review the music, you haven’t done your prep work.
Cold
I have a fleece sleeve that can go over my arms down to the knuckles when the hall is cold. I have a chemical hand warmer like those you can get at a sporting goods store to warm my hands up if it is cold backstage.
Feeling out the audience
I don’t see anyone in the audience because I don’t wear my contacts in a concert. I just want to make each performance the best I am capable of and engage the audience for the journey. The way to do that is to get completely immersed in the music and play with as much beauty as I can. The audience will respond.
One of the encores I have been playing comes from an experience I had on playing for the commemorative broadcast on September 11, 2002. There were thousands of family members who lost loved ones standing in front of me. Behind me was the pit. Being a New Yorker, it was one of the moving experiences of my life. In all of my programs since that point, I play two of the pieces I did that really reach into the heart strings. I play “Jerusalem of Gold” by Naomi Shemer and “Recuerdos de la Alhambra” by Tarrega. So with my encores, I try to put people in touch with these issues that are very much a part of out time. Creating a feeling unity in this way is a very powerful experience.
Why do guitarists get so nervous before a concert?
Either they haven’t prepared adequately or they don’t have anything to say with the music. You have to be connected to the emotion of the music to make it a real experience. If you are only worried about where your fingers are going to go, it is a recipe for disaster. If there isn’t a sense of drama, passion, love, beauty, and feeling, then it’s not a real experience. Music has to connect to those parts of the human experience. To get to that point, you need to have confidence in your technical abilities, your memory, and an understanding of the vision of what it is that you want to present. Skip any of those parts, and you won’t connect to the inner resources. In trying to get to that point, you have to play for people a lot, even if it is just for friends in your living room. The audience is there to love you, so you have to give them a compelling emotional experience to take home. That is what it should be about. You have to have material that is worth hearing. The best message to tell yourself before you go on stage is to have fun.
I love to mix and meet with the audience after a concert for CD signings. I always like to know who is out there. I get a lot of feedback that I find very meaningful.
Ben Verdery’s thoughts on the Pre concert warmup
Generally, I feel best when I have played through the program to get closer to it and more involved. That way when I go out on stage, my mind is into it and not scattered. I have a deep connection with every piece I play and I hate to just think, “Oh, you know that part, don’t worry about it.” It is not just about the fingers, I have to connect emotionally to the music. So I need some quiet time to relate to the composer innermost feelings and my own feelings. I play through the program but I don’t go all out. I think you only have so much emotional energy in a day. You don’t have seven hours that you can use to really put out. So i play through the program with a little bit of distance, with some reserve. When I was younger, I would get into the spirit of the upcoming concert and really play the program in my hotel room. I found that when I did that, once I got out on stage, I didn’t have any reserve. I was still playing accurately, but I had overdone it during the day.
I like to practice for about three hours, and when I feel myself getting too into it, I remind myself that the concert is that night. That is when I am supposed to be giving all. I don’t like it when I don’t get a chance to practice on the day of the concert. It happens from time to time. These days, I try to get to the city of the concert the day before, unless it is close to home—two hours away. If you leave too much to chance, it will come and bite you. That traffic jam will catch you and you’ll feel a lot of anxiety. You have to take responsibility and remember that you are getting paid to play, so you have to go the extra mile to feel calm. I I like to have a sound check at the hall. I prefer to have an hour to get to know the hall.
Right before the concert, I like to keep the guitar in my hands. I improvise a lot. I prefer not to review the some pieces in a without a feeling of panic. I try to go with the feelings I have. If I am nervous, I accept that. I worked really hard, I deserve to be nervous.
I believe that you are what you practice, so don’t wait to the last minute to get prepared for a concert. Even your first connection to the piece that you may ultimately perform can affect how you play it. The more positive your relationship is with the piece from day one, the better the outcome will be.
Every concert is a little different and each one gives you experience. I teach a lot, and I know how tough it is do get up in front your peers and your friends for a graduation recital. There is something beautiful and difficult about it. There is something to be said about playing to a roomful of people you don’t know.
I recently played for the Guitar Foundation of America festival. I thought Manuel Barrueco and David Russell were there in the audience. I didn’t obsess, but I’d play something and think, I hope they liked that. At the end of the concert, I found out that they weren’t even there!
The more experience you get, the more you can become friends with your nerves. The greatest performers I know get nervous. Just accept it. Anything you can do to feel better—yoga, breathing, eating a banana—you should do if it helps you. Don’t judge yourself.
Another technique is to really connect with the opening piece. That is how you say hello to the audience. I believe in having an opener that makes me feel really good. I open with my arrangements of some Prince songs. I have been doing them for a while. They just make me feel good. I am in a turmoil trying to find a new opener.
The more you know about things like what the color of the first note will be and all of the other musical decisions about dynamics etc., the better you will be. Then you are taking chances on firm ground as Arthur Rubenstein used to say. It is the gray areas that remain when we haven’t made all of those decisions that makes us feel unsure. Making these decisions will free you at the time of the concert. You want to communicate your musical intention. Then if you buzz a note or make a mistake, you have still made your musical intention known to the listener. If you do it with the right intent, they will get it. You have to not be afraid to say what you want.
If you are playing something as well-known as “Asturias,” know that you have a right to play it. The piece is not just for John Williams and David Russell. You have the right to tell your story with that piece.
Feeling out the audience
I just try to be open to the audience. You might get a standing ovation one night and then the next night, the audience is like deadwood. It was like that at a concert I did in Boston. The audience felt so subdues, but afterward everyone was so positive. I figured that the was a lot of space between me and the audience, it was a big church that I was playing in. People felt a little removed. So I can’t judge the audience, I am supposed to play the music. I try to be open to the audience, but my job is to play really well. If I feel a little distance, I might try to talk to the crowd to bring them in a little bit.
In Holland, people are very enthusiastic, but they don’t come backstage afterwards. So you think, what happened? It is best not to be the critic
Dealing with praise
A lot of times we are asking it from those who aren’t going to give it to us. So someone who might appear to not know a lot about the music or guitar comes up and says, “That was so beautiful. It did so much for me, and originally, I wasn’t going to come. I just wanted to tell you thanks so much.” Sometimes we don’t value those comments as much as the ones we didn’t get from someone who we know is a greet player who was there and didn’t come up to say anything. So, you can overlook a sincere comment from someone because your ego wanted to hear that from some else who is an aficionado.
When someone gives you praise, you shouldn’t give your opinion back. I remember once after someone told me how much they loved how I played, I said, oh, I really didn’t play very well. I realized that I had taken the joy away from them and made them feel like they didn't’ know anything. Just accept the praise.
Verdery on Encores
I have two or three that I can choose from. You make the choice of how you want to leave them, do you want to leave them excited or soothe them with a jewel from the repertoire. Guitar is capable of having more impact in a two-minute piece than most other instruments. It is spontaneous and
It is not about proving anything, it is about sharing something with the audience. Without them you couldn’t do it.
The environment, the acoustics and esthetics of the hall, can affect both performer and audience. Guitar is an intimate instrument, we can’t deny it. We should use that tour advantage to play in a smaller room. Wigmore Hall seats 500 and is a beautiful hall with a great history.
Bill Kanengiser’s Thoughts on Opening the Concert
I think that if you start a concert off well, the rest of it will go well. If you start off badly, it can be an uphill struggle. The piece I’ve been opening with, Manuel de Falla’s “Miller’s Dance” used to be one of my encores. It is in flamenco style and is flashy, technically brilliant work. You might think it would be better to start with an easier piece. But, I have played this piece for 20 years and can play it without thinking. I find that pieces that have delicate maneuvers are not good to start with. If you are nervous, your hands might be a little shaky. Quiet pieces make you tend to hold back and put the brakes on. That can make your muscles tighten up. The Miller’s Dance forces me to let go with fast scales and rasgueado strumming. It warms me up for the rest of the program. It is also an exciting curtain-raiser for the audience. It grabs them.
Preconcert Warm up
Sometimes I’ll play through the whole program very lightly and sometimes I will work hard on one thing. I am pretty careful not to over practice on the day of a concert. Pepe Romero told me once that if you practice really hard for the concert, rest and then warm up before you go on, it is as if your muscles have already worked out. You want to save something for the concert.
I don’t have a set routine to warm up just before I go out, but I will avoid playing my repertoire at that point. If you make a tiny mental error backstage, it is sure to infect your performance. You will worry about it. I focus on mechanics to get the hands working. I will play the Villa Lobos Etude 1, a little tremolo, and some scales. Ironically, I don’t practice technique that much. I practice my repertoire. But before I go out on stage, I do tons of technique work just before I go out onstage. I want to get my fingers working right.
There are all kinds of performers. Some play for the ideal of the music itself and others seek to satisfy themselves artistically, audience be damned. I’m not that way, I’m kind of a natural ham. I feel music is about communicating something to an audience without words. I don’t monitor the audience for their approval, but I do sense whether I am reaching them or losing them. You can tell by the silence of the room and the shuffling around. It can be tricky because sometimes you can think the are engaged and they are not and vice versa. The insecurities we have come into play. If you see someone leave in the middle, your insecurities could make you think that he didn’t like the music when really his beeper went off and his wife just went into labor. All this is going on while you are playing. It is really difficult not to let self-doubt take over and then we read too much into a situation. That can cloud your conviction while you are playing. For me the ultimate performance is when I am conveying to the audience how I much a love a piece and want to let them hear it. The nerves go away when you do that because it is not about you. It is really hard to get to that level. You have to really have done a lot of preparation and know exactly what it is that you are trying to tell them.
Kanengiser on Encores
You can play something sweet or play something flashy, I’ve gone both ways. For my current program with a lot meaty music, I want to play something sweet. With LAGQ, we tend to flashy pieces. I think that it is really important to leave the audience with something really beautiful. I play Leo Brower’s “Afro-Cuban Lullaby.” It is a no-brainer for me and it is really deeply felt. All of the flashy notes and fast passages are impressive, but I think people really want to be moved. Sometimes it is the simplest thing that moves you. When that happens people feel really fulfilled by a musical performance.