Pierre-Arnaud Dablemont, pianist » Pianist’s life

Looking for a new way to teach music?

Pierre-Arnaud — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 19:00:04 +0000

Yesterday, my friend, the American conductor Jaemi Loeb inspired me a great night thinking about musical education. We were chatting over the phone and I told her I hate teaching piano. But since everything is never so simple, I realized that it was not really true. I love sharing my passion with others, but isn’t teaching a way to share your passion? So how can I say I don’t like teaching while I like sharing my thoughts about music?

I think everything is a question of conditions. For example, master classes are fitting me like a glove. A few hours with a group of students, giving my point of view, advices on specific works, and sharing thoughts about music is really something magical and challenging for me. I’m not only teaching, but also learning from all these different personalities we meet in a master-class. Both the student and teacher must be like a chameleon and adapt very quickly.

For students, the preparation of these master-classes is also very interesting: they have to consider the work in all its aspects and be ready for anything, to challenge themselves in front of a stranger. For me, the preparation of a master-class is also a good way to broaden my knowledge: I take time to analyze the works to be performed during the session, and if I have time, sit down at the piano and sight-read them.

As for an education on a long term basis, I would opt for a solution that does not exist yet, as far as I know. I would have very few students, but really take care of them. Of course make them practice their piano, but also learn them how to take advantage of their skills and show them what is really the job of a pianist. Ideally, I would listen with them to recordings, criticize concerts, make them read books, but also enable them to follow me in my working days and let them observe how I manage my job and my piano practice.

Unfortunately, in schools, we are often inundated with students and do not have enough time for such an experiment. And in private lessons, students are often too young or not involved enough. I often learned by observing, and I realize now that my studies didn’t prepared me to work as a pianist. I’ve learned to play the piano well, a sine qua non conditio, but it’s far from being the only skill you need as a pianist.

I would have loved to follow my teachers in their daily musical life, see how they practice the piano, how they prepare for a concert, in fact, to learn what the job consists in, and this long before leaving school …

Finally, I would say that I like teaching, but I do not like the actual way you have to teach. I would like to teach piano, but mostly by sharing cultural moments. It might be time to create a school promoting this method?

5 tips for contacting presenters

Pierre-Arnaud — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 17:00:41 +0000

If you are an independent musician, contacting presenters is a part of your daily life. Apparently, it sounds as easy as calling someone and introducing yourself. But in fact, it is much more complicated than it looks. Contacting an institution or a festival to book a concert is often an obstacle course we, musicians, are not accustomed to. I will try here to give you some tips to improve your approach with presenters.

1. Know your “customer”. Since you can not contact everyone, you have to make a choice. Gather information about your potential prospects and evaluate whether or not you could fit their plans. Contacting an opera festival to book a violin-piano duo is a non-sense. With a good targeting, you will avoid plenty of rejection and loss of time and money.

2. Contact the right person at the right time. All the festivals or seasons have their own schedule. For each potential organizer you need to know who handles the booking of artists and when are the good times to contact him/her. Sending a promotional kit to the wrong contact or after the deadlines often lead to the same result: At best your kit will be forgotten in a drawer somewhere, at worst it will be immediately discarded.

3. Have something to sell. Put yourself in the presenter’s shoes: Why should they book me and not someone else? What are the benefits for him/her? What am I offering? Would my proposal be really interesting for a presenter?

4. Prepare your pitch call. Write down what you have to say in order to not babble on the phone and stay understandable. Moreover, you will not forget anything. Practice with a friend to be comfortable with your pitch calls. This seems unnecessary, you do know your product well, but believe me, you can easily be disturbed and lose the thread.

5. Be persistent without becoming boring. You’ll rarely reach the person you want at you first call. You can leave messages, but most presenters get far too many cold calls and are far too busy to return them. 3 calls are enough: if after 3 attempts to interest them you still get nothing, move on. Keep the presenter on your mailing list and invite him/her to performances in his/her area and send information about the major events of your career. I call this the passive prospection.

Booking concerts is an exhausting process. We musicians have not been trained for it and we must learn to introduce and sell ourselves. This is far from easy, and for some of us became a full time job. But some have achieved great carrers while being self-managed, so why not you?

Confessions of a pianist

Pierre-Arnaud — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 13:00:27 +0000

I realize how time flies and I have not managed to write for almost two weeks already. The past couple of days have been tough for me : a lot of decisions to make, a lot of work to do, so excuse me for not being very punctual at our weekly meeting on this blog. I must say that I spent much time in front of my piano; learning new repertoire, maintaining the old, I found back my student’s pace work! It’s time to make a quick review of the first six months of sabbatical.

My first act was to open up space for a deep introspection. Trying to discover what direction I really want to take, what is really interesting me in the pianist’s job. In addition to the tip of the iceberg, namely concerts, I discovered that transmission of knowledge is an area which is attracting me very much. So I developed a series of workshops around the piano and music of our time, in parallel with traditional master-classes, and refocused on educational programs as a core activity.

These last six months, I also discovered lots of things. Newly self-managed artist, I must say that this experience, even if extremely rewarding, is not a picnic. It is a totally new aspect of the job for me and I did a lot of rookie mistakes which have made me feel a little ashamed. Booking concerts, contacting presenters, selling myself, all this is far from easy, even with a wide experience in the music business. When not swimming (sinking?) in, the management may seem pretty simple. When confronted to it, we get lost easily, and you get discouraged very quickly.

I also found time to adjust my repertoire, at last! Some scores out and some new pieces as Debussy’s studies or Incises of Boulez (whose birthday was yesterday!). New concertos, like Bartok third, enrich my repertoire with orchestra. Sometimes, spring cleaning is good! Spring Cleaning for my technique also, since I practiced a lot and radically changed my technique (I wanted it for a while !). The result is very interesting and I hope you’ll see this in a few months!

These last six months are very positive. I was finally able to think on and confront myself to the music world as it is in reality. I do not regret at all this “suspension” of (public) activity . Occasionally you need to take a bit of distance and change the way of doing things, and that’s what I wanted to do during this break.

The pianist’s body

Pierre-Arnaud — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 08:00:54 +0000

The link between body and music is complex and inseparable. The perception and interpretation of musical works are carried out by the body. Any pianist can tell you: playing the piano involves the entire body and we often push it to the limits. We overuse our body, but what do we give in return?

For a long time my physiotherapist has pressed me to do something to maintain my body healthy, arguing that my recurring back problems are effects of a lack of physical activity. Up until now, I had always answered I was too busy for this. But if I want to continue to have all my “features”, I have to seriously consider having a regular physical activity routine.

I can not practice “dangerous-for-fingers” sports as basketball or volleyball, I do not like running, playing tennis gives me tendonitis, then what? The solution would be to take part in less agressive activities as Pilates, yoga or stretching. I opted for yoga which was already interesting me. Swimming is also a good option, but requires an adequate infrastructure, not always easy to find.

Our discipline is intimately linked to the gesture and the body in motion. Who would not maintain the tools of his trade? Unfortunately the musicians are not the best example to follow and often confront themselves to postural and muscular problems later in their professional life. When you are young, you always think these problems won’t show up. This is a huge mistake, so don’t wait and take care of your body!

The pianist’s loneliness

Pierre-Arnaud — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 16:00:16 +0000

Loneliness is an issue that quite often comes up in discussion with people who know and follow me. I work alone, I play alone, I like being alone most of the time, but isn’t the feeling of loneliness heavy and suffocating? It is true that I don’t meet my friends very often, I am not a big fan of mass meetings and that I avoid crowded places. But in another hand, I like chatting over the phone and mailing them.

My life would be surely unbearable for those who can’t live without their social network. I grew up without siblings, I was not very popular at school, I learned to live in an environment where social contacts were fairly limited. I played alone at home and unlike other children I did not know boredom. I discovered it later, ironically in a period during which I was opening myself up to others.

It’s not that I’m antisocial, far from it, but I feel good when I’m alone. The hours spent at the piano are always a pleasure and I give myself spaces of solitude after work, because every musician will tell you, we need at least half an hour after the last played note to be back to reality. Disturbing me at work: an error my friends don’t commit anymore. I’m in such cases grumpy and say the first thing that comes into my head (It does not even make sense sometimes) to get back to work as quickly as possible.

I am sure that we choose the instrument according to our own character. It seems to me that if I did not like the loneliness that surrounds me, I wouldn’t have wanted to become a pianist. I would have chosen an instrument that allows better socialization, as a wind instrument for example. The pianist even involved in chamber music remains a bit “strange”. And finally I like it!

One year to change

Pierre-Arnaud — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 15:00:17 +0000

I know I have not written a post for a while… The recent weeks have been difficult and I had neither the desire nor time to write something. Today I’m going back to my blog after a bad flu which has left me weak and tired. As usual, I didn’t want to go and see a doctor, and that did not help. But here I am, at least partly. Partly, because I’m not playing the piano seriously these days.

The last time I wrote I told you about rituals and lucky charms, and a week later I officially announced my little one-year retirement. But a question is often asked: why are you doing that? Firstly, I will not waste a year since I will continue my work, but the real and essential work that I want to perform forces me to stay away from stage for some time.

But is he mad? Not at all. Technically I need to set some things straight and profoundly change some approaches to move towards my ideal. These are fundamental issues related to gesture and my attitude towards the keyboard and I could not change them if I am constantly under pressure. Piano technique is not static, it may undermine its foundation to move forward in a new direction.

So I need to discover other horizons, other composers I have been avoiding until now, or I have not had time to devote myself to. It is fundamental for me to evaluate the situation and prepare myself to continue to go on peacefully.

On rituals and lucky charms

Pierre-Arnaud — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 16:00:56 +0000

Last week I wrote here about going on stage and I evoked the “lucky charm”. Today I will focus on pre-concert rituals as well as these charms. Some do not have rituals or lucky charms, and others elaborate complex rituals which become totally obsessive. Star’s whim or real necessity?

I’m not, compared to others, prone to ritual behaviors before a concert. No extraordinary demand, but I have a couple of habits : I need to iron my shirt by myself before the concert or clean the piano keyboard, for example. Loneliness and silence before playing are also part of my routine but I guess it’s more a matter of concentration than anything else.

However, I have (or rather had) some good luck “stuffs” that I needed to ensure the quality of the concert. First, as ridiculous as it sounds, I used to have my “magic” socks. Yes, I always wore the same pair of socks since an especially successful concert. I decided it was lucky socks, absolutely necessary to perform but I lost them… It was a real disaster, impossible to find the famous socks, and I was forced to play with others and finally, the concert went well. So, I am now freed from this belief and am able to play wearing any pair of socks.

Second must-have item: my pocket-handkerchief. Useful when it ‘s getting too hot under the spotlight, but also to dry and clean the keyboard, my handkerchief is my fetish object and leads me to special rituals: ironed at the same time as the shirt, I check several times its presence in the inside pocket of my jacket before the concert. Once on stage, the first thing I do is putting the piece of cloth in its place, always the same, on the piano frame just before the tuning pins on the right. Certainly my way to make of this stranger piano my piano during the concert.

Nothing special for me as you can see, but some musicians have more complex requests. I saw a conductor requiring 100 roses in his dressing room before playing, or musicians yelling at managers because of the size of a dressing room. But I must say that some organizations allow unimaginable things: cameras not covered by contracts, microphones that immortalize a performance without authorization, really bad piano, lack of staff and poor organization. Although this is not happening all the time, these incidents occur, and often lead to last minute cancellations by artists, then vilified by the press and the production. This is not always fair, and increases the number of our requirements to avoid having to fight against this kind of inconvenience.

We must understand that the soloist is subjected to high stress, and these rituals, requirements and lucky charms which can seem strange are often an unconscious way to hold their own against pressure. Some know how to evacuate stress without becoming “tyrants”, while others do not …

Going on stage

Pierre-Arnaud — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 16:00:55 +0000

Concert evening, in the dressing-room. Tonight, I’ll be playing a recital methodically prepared during the last weeks. Final moments before appearing on stage. Someone is knocking at the door. A glance in the mirror, last check for the presence of our good-luck stuffs and other necessities. It’s time to go. A few more moments to wait backstage, and suddenly the stage manager asks if I’m ready, opens the door, and motions to me to go on stage. It’s my first contact with this audience, and often the first “live” impression of the audience about the pianist who is about to play tonight. There’s only a few feet between us and the piano, just a few feet, how to cross the distance?

Punchy à la Gavrilov or slow and charismatic like Benedetti’s one, the way to cover the distance from the stage door to the piano is an obsession. I have never been able to appear on stage in a natural manner so far. Being aware that several hundred pairs of eyes are watching every step of mine is driving me nuts. It may seem ridiculous, because walking to the piano is perhaps technically the simplest thing to do in a recital, but a billion questions arise at the same time: do I have to walk and take a bow in front of the piano, or stay behind the bench? A hand on the piano or not? The concentrated air or friendly and smiling? Small or big steps? Fast or slow ones?

Some pianists practice their entrance, count the number of steps and keep time in order to fit a perfect timing, neither too long nor too short. A strategy has been developed and the pianist becomes an actor for a few seconds. But finally, isn’t this apprehension just a cannot-see-the-forest-for-the-trees attitude? I mean, isn’t it a way to artificially forget what we really fear, that is to say playing?

I do not really know, since leaving scene is also problematic, although our job is almost done. What does frighten us so much then?

Blog season 2: Independance

Pierre-Arnaud — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 15:19:03 +0000

It’s been a year already since I started writing this blog. After two months of well deserved rest, I am back on the web, I mean on my blog. It was a sincere pleasure to share my ideas and my wishes with you last year.

My vacation was studious: no articles, but the 33 variations on a waltz by Diabelli (those who follow me on Facebook already know it), and some work projects I had not completed yet. I also relaxed, don’t worry, and I finally could enjoy a summer in my beautiful city of Prague, siping a few cocktails on the banks of the Vltava, or walking around the many parks of the city. I had the need to recharge my batteries after a particularly trying year.

September, month of the start of school. This year, for the first time since preschool, I am not going back to school. I did not notice before but I had never been really independent, I mean pianistically speaking. Always having someone directing me, never really free. I left the institutions to which I belonged in order to stand on my own two feet. Well, on my own two feet but under control, because I am not saying that I won’t get coached from time to time… So, independence means change in the way I live. But also in the way I work: more time to get to the bottom of things and to develop myself along a single line.

This “special” year, I have decided to start it with six months of introspection. Take the time to think, put back into question some basical things, work on some problems I haven’t had the time to deal with before, and reexamine my interpretation according to my own taste. A student’s life does not always allow radical changes, for the first time I will be able to build on what I have learnt and live my own life. Exciting but terrifying.

As for the blog this year, I will try to offer more interactive content and maybe educational. Why not some video analysis if I feel capable. Till then, back to the piano!

Recording is never so easy.

Pierre-Arnaud — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 06:00:21 +0000

To all those saying that recording is easy, I say, perhaps they should pay a visit to a studio. Of course, you can cut, past, redo, but it is not always an advantage.

The first shock when recording is a bit like the one you feel when hearing your own voice for the first time. Years later, I still find it hard to bear. Indeed, even if you have spent whole years working on planned works, you have never heard them from the microphones perspective. In short, you do not really know how it sounds like for the audience. You have an idea of it, you work so that it sounds as you want in the concert hall, but the microphone is the moment of truth! No one can be more objective than it is.

The editing process is a fantastic thing, but it destroys the music cohesion. Technically, you can edit almost anything, but musically, it does not always fit: different tempi, different dynamics, different intentions, outside noise, atmosphere… The editing can help correct some little mistakes, but overall, I avoid it. I would rather corroborate Samson François’ words: “let the bad notes, it’s nice.” Not always easy to find a balance between technical and musical perfection with an imperfect intermediary.

Recording is a lot of work: if certain imperfections are tolerated in a concert, the disc or recording can be heard several times: you can therefore be sure that there was at one time or another a mistake. It is thus necessary to make a perfect work, thus not human. A little example: Pollini’s recordings. I have long sought the origin of their coldness: it’s a consequence of their absolute perfection. You can not criticize Pollini’s recordings, there is nothing to say, it’s perfect, thus not very human. The audience has become accustomed to this superhuman perfection, and this superhuman perfection has become a standard, in studios or on stage. Too bad, I liked these pianists, who were more humans than playing machines, with their weaknesses, their points of view and their own style…

I digress. On monday, I sat at the piano with 4 microphones and my producer as only audience. Correcting, listening, repeating, improving, discussing, trying to relax a bit, we lived for one ultimate goal: producing a quality recording without stress since there is no planned release. I also had other aims: little or no editing and no sound correction. We will see what happens after post-production! I will share with you some of the tracks when available.

Till then, time to work!