Next Level Cellist Musicality Issue

I
have been inspired for as long as I can remember to play music.
I was the driving force behind my decision to play the cello as
a child. My parents are chamber musicians and were constantly
practicing and rehearsing with colleagues in the house (my father was
the first violinist of the Cleveland Quartet for 20 years). The Cleveland
quartet rehearsed in my home until I was 7 years old, and on top of
that my parents were constantly taking me to concerts and allowing
me to be around musicians. My mother tells me, when I was about
2 years old, I would constantly listen to her practicing. At one point
she was practicing the Beethoven 32 Variations, and I would become
extremely unhappy if she spent less time than I wanted practicing
that piece. I would throw tantrums because I wanted to listen to the
incredible music. When I was three, it became clear that I had
perfect pitch, and I would play games with my mother where she
would play chords on the piano and I would try to name all the notes
- it was very easy for me, a game I could always win. When I was four,
I started to ask, and eventually demand, a cello and a cello teacher. Six
months later I had my first cello, and I don’t remember questioning
for a moment that this was what I would do with my life, I just loved
it from the start.
In the first months, I would do perhaps 30 minutes of formal practice
a day, but once I was finished with my Suzuki pieces or simple music,
I would take the cello into my bedroom and play around with it for
hours. It was my dream at that time to play the Dvorak cello concerto,
even though I could barely pronounce the word cello! I would try to
teach myself how to do it, and I ended up with some funny physical
habits that I took years to undo. It was the philosophy of my parents
and my teacher that I should love the instrument first, and worry
about the mechanics later.
I developed my sense of musical imagery very early. It started for me
when I was hearing music as images and characters. The way that my
parents rehearsed, they were always discussing what characters or
colors they were trying to communicate. I got right away that all the
practice wasn’t just aimed at technical perfection. When I first started
to play the cello, I was thinking about that already.
My parents are chamber music players, and so the communication
between players and the inspiration one receives from colleagues
was something I really got from them. They have a huge amount
of personality in their own playing, and I think I was naturally,
subconsciously drawn to that. They encouraged all these things
in me when I started playing.
I remember once I had worked with a teacher for one lesson at around
age 8. I played for my parents, and they told me to try and show me
what I had learned from the teacher. I did, and I was very focused
on the technical side of my playing, which I might not have been fully
aware of at the time. I’ll never forget the horrified look on my parents’
faces! My dad worked with me relentlessly until I got my natural
impulse back. Of course, the mechanics of playing are extremely
important, but only if they are married to the music. I’ll never forget
the look they gave me when I played without the impulse.
What is the Impulse?
The impulse is your own natural, primal response to music. It’s how
it affects you emotionally, and rhythmically. The impulse is movement,
because the heart of music is rhythm. The response to rhythm is
harmony, how something makes you feel on the most basic level.
If you’re really in touch with your impulse, you already know how
to phrase. Of course, that has to be refined with training, by listening
and understanding.
At the risk of repeating myself, it’s about really marrying technique
and music on the deepest level, so you can still be in touch with your
impulse even if you’re working through mechanics, even with physical
problems. Ultimately the goal is to communicate something naturally
without any hindrances. That’s what technique is for. I would never
advocate going easy on technical training - I had an extremely rigorous
technical training - but you must never lose sight of the fact that it’s in
pursuit of a larger goal. I advocate practicing in a very mindful way,
investing all elements of music making into every note that you play,
even if it’s open strings or a vibrato exercise. That’s my philosophy.
The aspect of teaching that I find most interesting is the task of finding
out what will reach a person. This idea that you can’t separate technique
and music at any time is central to me. Even when practicing
scales, you have to think about the harmony, phrasing, quality of
sound, different colors that you want to produce. For some people,
these points are obvious, but for others this concept is being uttered
for the first time. Even for the people who know this, it’s good to have
that nagging reminder to always practice mindfully.
It seems to be a universal concern that people don’t know what
to do in the practice room. This invariably comes out while they’re
performing, whether because they feel uncomfortable, or because
certain concepts in their minds aren’t able to come out in their playing.
It takes hard work for all of us to do this, and I find it very helpful
for students to hear that this is a shared challenge for musicians, not
an embarrassing or shameful personal shortcoming.
In my own practice, the best example is found in slow practice with
the metronome. Even when I’m trying to make sure the mechanics
of a passage are back in place, I’m always thinking about the structure
and phrasing - even if I’m focused on intonation. I’ll be looking for
new colors, new things to learn or to say through the piece. It’s a very
disciplined approach to practicing. Once you’re beyond the point of
learning the notes and where everything goes, I think that practicing
at 2/3rds tempo gives you the strength and reflexes to play the piece
and allows you to keep a slightly relaxed yet focused mind.
Starting young gave me some advantages learning my instrument. I
don’t think anything was conscious when I was a young child wanting
to learn the Dvorak concerto. It started as the ultimate goal! When I
really started to learn it, I was about 12. Taking a focused approach
to learning the music, I found that the better I got, the more I realized
I didn’t know. When I first started to learn the Dvorak, I was surprised
at how quickly some things came to me. I had waited my whole 12-
year life to learn this piece that everyone had told me would be too
difficult, and now I found that I could play most of the notes! Later,
when I was performing it a lot, I began to appreciate the depth and
layers to the piece. I caught some of those things early on, but my
understanding of its structure and musical complexity continues
to develop even now. Every performer should endeavor to remain
a student, and to look for the lessons in everything he or she plays.
If you are hoping to achieve real success in music, try to absorb as
much as possible. I went to a lot of concerts, listened to a lot of recordings,
and studied a lot of scores on the path to my career. The other
SPRING 2014 NEXT LEVEL CELLIST
7