The Classical Performer’s best friend

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen,

A few weeks ago I heard the diploma recital of a fine piano student at Roosevelt University, Mr. Wael Farouk. His recital repertoire included the Busoni arrangement of Bach’s violin chaconne in D minor. He was generating a wonderful sound, but he was sometimes a little muddy. The recital was at Ganz hall, and I’ve played on the piano before. This brings me to my question for all of you: What is the most important thing for the classical musician?

His agent? The solipsists might say his instrument. The cheat might say the sound engineer. Liberace might say his brother George. I say the room.

Think about it; on a good piano, you can play anything you like–a Mozart sonata, or a Scriabin poem like “Vers la Flamme” –but the room determines *how* you can play it. You sit down in your small, dry room and you’re good with the Mozart, but the Scriabin can’t really build up the fire it needs. So you move to the larger hall down the street with more resonance. The Scriabin smokes and sparkles, but you can forget about playing the Mozart. All the notes blur together, no matter how hard you try. You wind up playing with only the slightest touches of pedal, and it still comes out as muddy. You try to cut out pedal all together, the audience may like it, but to you it sounds too disconnected and you can’t stand it!

You even find yourself asking hapless passersby how it sounds. “Sounds good” they say. “Maybe could use a bit more pedal” they say. If they only knew!

As an audiophile, I think one of the finest sounding concerts I’ve ever been to was Richard Goode’s last performance at Northwestern University. He played Brahms Op. 76, the J.S. Bach Partita in G and a group of Debussy preludes in Pick-Staiger hall. The sound was outstanding. I sat in the second to last row in the balcony, and I could still feel the vibrations in the seats from the piano playing. It was as if you were sitting 10 feet from the piano, not 200.

I can’t be sure that the audience heard what we’re hearing, but if they did, this is a fine example of top-notch playing in a good room. Listen to the clarity!
This is the [obligatory] train wreck. It’s Mitsuko Uchida for crying out loud, but either the room or the recording (probably both) are far too wet. Knowing her stature and having played that piece, I can tell you that thanks to the room (perhaps the piano, perhaps the recording, but mostly the room) her articulation is effectively gone. And no, don’t send me hate mail telling me Mitsuko Uchida wanted it that way.