58 ❧ chapter two
all, I can establish my musical intention before the ear has become deformed
or misled by the actual sound of the instrument. I consider a piece fully memo-
rized only if I can sing every note of it, if I can think it through away from an
instrument, and if I am certain of being able to write it down, were it neces-
sary. Singing is the most important. The ability to emit a sound for every note
of a piece provides incontrovertible evidence that one not only knows it but
has heard it. The passages that are most diffi cult to establish in the memory
are those which both inner and outer ear have found most diffi cult to hear.
Singing is the best way of causing a piece of music to take root on one’s own
physical organism. If a lapse of memory occurs, as from time to time is inevi-
table, it need not be feared; a vocal feeling for the situation and direction of
the passage will enable one to get back on the track.
In the case of concertos, I spend a great deal of time studying the orchestral
parts, and where the solo instrument is playing together with the orchestra,
I make sure that I can simultaneously play my own part and sing that of any
instrument in the orchestra that is playing with it. Far too many discrepancies
in ensemble are caused, not by the orchestra nor even by the conductor, but
by the behavior of the soloist himself. But I must admit that when the soloist
is playing a harpsichord that is so placed that neither orchestra not conductor
can hear it, his infl uence over the performance is reduced to whatever may
have been prior understanding during rehearsals.
In some ways, the career of a soloist is easier than that of a chamber music
player. The soloist is a law unto himself, and he does not need to rehearse or
make continual compromises. But in such measure as he is independent, he is
also responsible; deprived of help, he fi nds everything dependent on him, on
his physical condition, on his state of mind, and on a relationship with the pub-
lic that is quite different from that of a chamber music player. Whereas a string
quartet is merely supposed to play its quartets as well as possible, and with a
minimum of fuss and external show, a soloist is expected to dominate, cajole,
and seduce his public in every way possible.
In order to enliven a program that might be unpalatable to the general pub-
lic, many soloists resort to eccentricities of costume, to fi ddling with handker-
chiefs, to the adjustment of stools and chairs, to gazing soulfully into the wings
or bowing their heads as if in prayer, to fl inging hands into the air, to tinkering
with glasses of water, and to many other tricks of the music hall, circus, and
evangelist’s platform. Or they resort to talking. I have always tried to avoid the
more obvious of the above-mentioned shenanigans, but there are indubitably
audiences that are more sensitive to a good show than to good music. As for
talking, a large segment of the public absolutely adores it, and it sometimes
does take the chill off a hall. But, fundamentally, I dislike mixing up talking
and playing, and in lectures I am often ill at ease when playing musical illustra-
tions. Most of the time, I feel either that I play better than I talk or that I talk
KKirkpatrick.indd 58irkpatrick.indd 58 2/8/2017 9:57:04 AM 2 / 8 / 2017 9 : 57 : 04 AM
rick simeone
(Rick Simeone)
#1