Today’s post features the third interview with Jan Loeffler who is a pianist and piano professor at Royal Birmingham Conservatoire (UK). In this instalment, Jan offers his thoughts on teaching technique, repertoire, and using the piano exam syllabus.
Read more interviews in the series, here.
At what approximate age and level do your students begin their musical journey with you?
This varies a bit, of course, but most students are 10 years and above, and most students are post ABRSM Grade 5 standard by the time they start working with me.
Teaching at a conservatoire, you probably mostly teach transfer students, or those who have already studied with other teachers from the beginning, and therefore, how do you begin to build their technique? What repertoire/exercises do you use to do this?
As you say, given the fact that they were accepted into a conservatoire, be that junior or senior, means that they’re doing quite a lot of things correctly already. A common issue, I find, is that students’ fingers aren’t sufficiently stable yet, especially the fingertip, so strengthening it without inducing tension in the whole arm is a primary concern. There are exercises you can do to help students develop this stability; these exercises don’t all involve a piano, they can be done at a table, for instance. The next important aspect is that their arms need to be flexible, and, unfortunately, often you see the opposite: soft fingertips and inflexible arms, rather than stable fingertips and soft arms. I always use the analogy of a suspension bridge which is affixed at two points only, hanging freely in-between those two points. In our case, the two fixed points are our shoulders and the contact point on the key. Another nice concept is to imagine that our hands and fingers are connected to our pelvis by a pulley system which routes up our back and over our shoulders, down our arms and into our hands. You could take it even further and include our legs and feet into that concept. People are often surprised when I point out that tension which they think comes from their upper extremities actually also manifests in their legs and feet. Sometimes you can see their lowers legs being wedged between the underside of the keyboard and the floor by way of raising their heels off the ground. Almost all the time tension will also manifest in their jaws – Yes! Surprisingly, when you ask students to relax their jaw and to allow it drop open gently, it initially disturbs their playing, but usually, after a short period of time, it has the desired effect and relaxes their bodies.
A failsafe, short-term way of relieving tension is to ask students to move their elbows outwards, away from the side of their bodies, whilst staying connected to the keys. The great conductor and educationalist, Benjamin Zander, has a nice way of describing engaging and free playing. He calls it ‘one-buttock or two-buttock playing’. What he means is that if you’re slumped on the piano stool, sitting on both buttocks, you’re less likely to be fully engaged – and hence less engaging. When I first came across this, I tried it and I had to laugh quite a bit because it’s so true. Once you’re aware of it you cannot stop noticing it all the time.
I am quite traditional in my approach when it comes to exercises. To my mind, if Hanon, Czerny, Pischna, Schmitt, Cramer-Bülow, Brahms, Dohnányi etc. were good enough for some of the most revered pianists of all time, then they’re probably good enough for us. There’s no need to reinvent the wheel, as far as I’m concerned. I’d rather use my energy for something else more musical. What is important, though, is that any exercises you do are done correctly and without allowing tension to build up, so we have to look carefully at our students, hand size and movements in order to identify potential areas of concern.
I’m also very keen on devising piece-specific exercises and helping my students to do so on their own. Identifying a technical problem, analysing what causes it and finding ways to solve the issue is a great way of gaining a deeper understanding of all the elements that go into approaching our instrument from a physical point of view.
The sooner the penny drops that we can also use the area between the black keys, the better, for it allows us to make far smaller lateral movements, thereby allowing us to continue the directional flow of movements more smoothly and uninterruptedly. Also, one of the most powerful realisations for students is usually to grasp the concept of the keyboard being two-tiered, i.e. the black keys being on an elevated level in their own right, compared to the white ones. Depending on what patterns we play, sometimes it can be beneficial to imagine that we’re playing on the ‘black’ level by default, sometimes on the ‘white’ level, which steadies the hand and prevents it from falling into the trap of excessive up and down motion, aka ‘heavy thumb’… or ‘thump’ as I like to call it.
If I could only teach my students one technical thing, and one thing alone, I think it would have to be how to connect to the keys in a relaxed manner. I recall Prof. Simon and Prof. Matthies placing what seemed like an inordinate amount of time on my upper body being flexible whilst my fingers would stay firmly planted on the keys. I remember them standing behind me, moving my upper body around in random ways, asking me to continue to play. Initially I just couldn’t do it, my hands would come off the keys which was an indicator that my arms were too tense. Eventually, I got the hang of it (excuse the pun again… my son would roll his eyes, I hope he never reads this) and I was able to allow my arms to just fall freely from the shoulders.
Actually, come to think of it, I would also want to teach them one more other thing: I see a lot of tension creeping in when students try to play legato with fingers that cannot, or do not have to, be legato, i.e. when they route their connection to the keys through the wrong fingers. This inevitably leads to tension because the brain will try to lift a finger which it simultaneously also tries to keep planted on a key. The answer is not more practice but more thinking, raising awareness of the procedural detail, i.e. enlightened, mindful, analytical practice.
Is there a specific repertoire plan that you prefer your students to take, or do you change the repertoire depending on the student?
I change the repertoire depending on the student, if for no other reason than to preserve my own sanity. I do think, though, that the old adage to learn to walk before you can run holds true, and I’m therefore keen not to over-commit my students. I think playing a more manageable piece well is better than playing a very difficult one less well. We need to be careful what we teach, for not only do we teach the tangible elements of music making, but – maybe more importantly?! – we also teach the subconscious elements, the mental and psychological approach, the attitude, all the lived experiences with a piece (including the lessons, informal concerts, formal concerts… everything!), the work ethic etc. We also teach anticipation and expectation. Let me explain, please: if we predominantly practise pieces which are too hard then we learn that playing the piano is a struggle, we learn that there are always going to be passages which are just beyond our current capabilities and therefore may not be adequately executed, which, in turn, creates a spiral of negativity of thought. If, on the other hand, we can instill in our students the notion that whatever they play they will play well and are on top of, musically and technically, then this will breed a self-perpetuating spiral of positivity, both when practising (since we expect positive results and are therefore more likely to achieve them; it’s often a case of self-fulfilling prophecy) as well as in our performances – because we’ve practised with a positive attitude! So, we have to strike a balance between pushing our students to the next pianistic heights as well as ensuring that they feel musically and pianistically safe, in charge and in control.
The conundrum is, though, that often we prefer those performances that are musically charged with a level of uncertainty, that are on edge, with the audience being on tenterhooks. In my opinion, however, it is healthier if that notion is artistically created on the basis of control rather than an experience which the performer is going through in real time. That’s the safe approach, at least, and the one I would advocate initially, and we can then explore how far to push a performance ‘to the edge’ without tipping it over.
Interestingly enough, Artur Schnabel, who arguable put some of the finest musical traversals on record… ever… said this about his historic achievement of recording the first complete cycle of Beethoven Sonatas:
“I had no idea of how outrageous a process the recording on discs could be. Like slave drivers they burdened me with six hours of recording on a daily basis. I had to play pieces that were not included in the contract, but I had no time to prepare them. They thought I was always able to play all the Beethoven sonatas and concertos at the drop of a hat. Instead of refusing to do anything that was not prearranged, I let them, as usual, cajole me into doing it; now eight sonatas and two concertos are completed. This is crazy. The working conditions are unimaginable.”
If ever a musical project had to come with the famous warning ‘Don’t try this at home’, this would surely have to be it!
Do your younger students take graded piano exams or diplomas?
Some of them do. I’m not a strict follower of the exam system, and I usually have students or parents approach me to ask whether they could/should take an exam. I like it that way because it means that the initiative is the students’ or the parents’, not mine in that regard. I wouldn’t want to give the impression that one of our main concerns as musicians, or as people for that matter, was to take exams. We study to understand life better and to improve our skills at something, not to pass exams. I would say exams in general are a complementary aspect of, but not the raison d’être for, any serious studying, and, in an ideal world, we would do well to view them merely as by-products of education. I am concerned about the fact that students seem to be absolutely inundated with exams at one point in the year when there would be so much time throughout the year to spread them out. It would mean that revision would be less intense at any one time but more continuous throughout the academic year, which would be beneficial for retaining information.
But I’m digressing, back to music exams: interestingly, the graded music exam system was not set up to be a curriculum which would be strictly followed. It was designed to complement independentinstrumental and musical studies.
The idea behind the whole system was that students would reach a certain grade standard and then sit the exam, rather than using the exam pieces to work towards a grade. You were meant to play the exam pieces when you had already reached that standard. Also, there are eight grades and three groups of pieces, which means that if one followed the system as a curriculum, students would only have played 24 pieces by the time they’d have completed Grade 8.
Another aspect to note is that you don’t have to take all of the exams. There is no ulterior profit in having taken them all, and I’d rather my students played repertoire that they enjoy and find interesting, in addition to taking a selection of exams.
Having said all that, I am very happy for my students to take exams because I realise that it can act as a motivating factor, and I am also realist enough to appreciate that it offers certain practical benefits when applying to university. For some children and adults, instrumental exams may well be the only contact they’ll have ever had with music, and whilst that is somewhat regrettable on the one hand, it also clearly highlights the potential of exams to encourage and enthuse new audiences for the marvel that is music; consequently, we need to ensure that engaging in the examination process is as rewarding and worthwhile a process as it can be.
So, by all means, take your Grade 5 and Grade 8 or so, but don’t limit yourself to thinking that following any exam board syllabus was the only way and the sole indicator of musical achievement. Any exam system feeds into people’s desire to use benchmarks to track progress, and that’s a totally valid point and does offer benefits, but music doesn’t entirely work that way, hence why we need to be vigilant about how we use exams.
Do you feel that the current UK music examination system is useful, or could it be replaced with something different?
With all of the above being said, I can see a lot of value in the exam system as it is. It is a very well thought-out system of progressing students’ skills in an organised and coherent way and it provides a structure and clear targets to aim for. I particularly like the fact that it includes aural skills and musicianship elements.
Just like with everything else, though, it is a matter of how it is employed, for it has the potential to spur students on and take them to a level which they may not have got to otherwise, but it also has the potential to hold students back if it is employed as a mere curriculum. Using it in that way might actually stifle and limit some students’ aspirations and inspiration. Teachers play a pivotal role in devising a suitable course of action for each individual student.
By design, and on the face of it, any exam system suggests that there is a one-size-fits-all approach, even though ABRSM, for instance, do say that, for example, the fingerings for scales are a mere suggestion, however, you’d be surprised how many students vehemently adhere to them and thus how many times I come across the idea that thumbs, and to a lesser degree fifth fingers, should be avoided on black keys at all cost. This is so not helpful! Some of the most elegant solutions are achieved when using exactly those fingers on elevated keys and/or when sliding off them. One only needs to read through some Czerny exercises (in which he explicitly prescribes the use of thumbs on black keys) or the Artur Schnabel edition of the Beethoven Sonatas, in which you’ll find numerous examples of ‘unorthodox’ fingering solutions. Just recently I found a brilliant suggestion in the op.31/1 G major sonata in which Schnabel suggests 5-5 on two adjacent white keys and to slide off a C# onto a D with the second finger – GENIUS! Neither solution is unheard of or all that radical, however, in the context of this passage I think it’s nothing short of brilliant, particularly in this repertoire. For those interested, it’s in the third movement in bars 49/50.
Back to exams: they are intended to test skills and knowledge across a given group of individuals to identify and measure attainment against established benchmarks. This works well for objectifiable standards, but music is different, for the objective elements are actually only the surface of what constitutes music. ABRSM, for instance, try to cater for as wide a range of students and scenarios as possible, and I get the impression that they know that there are limits to any music exam in terms of what it can provide. Within those limits, they probably do as good a job as possible, but, at the end of the day, an exam is an exam.
I think the backbone of the system works very well. It’s probably quite difficult logistically, but ideally I think it would be beneficial to add some communal elements to it, i.e. concerts, chamber music collaborations, workshops etc. in order to grow the understanding that exams are a means to an end. That end, surely, is to enable students to improve their skills so that they can express themselves more proficiently and ‘eloquently’ on their instruments, which in turn will increase the ‘fun factor’ when playing with others. Another aspect I would want to include is that playing from memory is actively encouraged and reflected positively in the mark. In the industry there is currently a shift towards ‘allowing’ pianists to use the score when playing solo, and I’m not against that at all. I do think, however, that it’s a good idea to train memorisation to a certain degree from a young age so that playing from memory isn’t perceived as Damocles’ sword hanging over your head.
What I’m trying to say is that as long as all parties engaged in graded music exams are clear that exams only inform us about some aspects of music-making and that there is much more to explore outside the remit of exams, they’re a useful tool and one which I use happily, but not exclusively.
To finish on a positive note, I do think it is a good idea for students to be able to collect points for university entry based on their instrumental attainment; it shows that there is the underlying understanding that becoming good at an instrument is certainly no mean feat, demonstrating long-term commitment, self-discipline and the ability to think analytically and critically, amongst many other important aspects, and I welcome the fact that this is being recognised by academic institutions.
Are your senior RBC students allowed to select their own repertoire, or are they guided by the end of year exam repertoire selections?
They are bound by the end-of-year criteria, however, those become increasingly broader as their degrees progress and so there is usually scope for them to play what they can relate to. No two students are the same, and some really want to find repertoire that is new to them and explore that, others are less adventurous and would prefer me telling them outright what to play (which I don’t like). But, of course, I also have certain ideas of repertoire which I think would aid their progress. So, I tend to give them a pool of pieces from which they can choose, or we do the reverse, i.e. I ask them to present me with a pool of pieces from which I will choose. Either way offers them a certain level of agency over their repertoire, which I think is important, but also a level of control on my part, which is sometimes necessary.
What music do you specifically relate to and enjoy teaching?
I think I’ll answer that by using categories. I like music which has structure and in which you can follow the development of a theme through the course of a piece. I like a good melody (don’t we all?!) and at the same time I find it disappointing when there is too little counterpoint. I also absolutely adore pieces which lend themselves to exploring tonal colours and shades.
With that in mind, I think the composers that impact me the most are Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Schumann, Brahms, Granados, some Rachmaninoff (especially his Cello Sonata and the D major Prélude op.23/4, which was played at our wedding) and some Scriabin. I particularly like the Prélude op.11/10, and the Études op.8/5&11.
I used to find Schubert difficult to like when I was younger because I always compared him to Beethoven, until I finally realised his genius in juxtaposing different keys in such close proximity that it now seems to me it is just the next logical step after what Beethoven did so often with his modulations; he just changes one or two notes of a chord stepwise, et voilà. I’m thinking of his G major Piano Concerto, for instance, where the piano entry finishes in the dominant, D major. We expect the orchestra to come in in G major, but instead it comes in in B major, and all he had to do is change the D to D# and the A to B.
Motivically, I also first had to come to terms with the fact that, to my ears, where the focus in Beethoven’s music is on the transformation of motives in the course of a piece, dissecting them, reassembling them, Schubert tends to maintain the motives and changes their surroundings instead (e.g. in the Andante sostenuto of his last piano sonata). Maybe that’s why a lot of people find Schubert’s music to be so personal in a way, for this feature could be seen to signify the lonely wanderer as they traverse through life, encountering an ever-changing world around them, trying to adapt as best they can, but not quite managing, whereas in Beethoven’s music the subject struggles and transforms.
Find out more about Jan, here.
Publications
Melanie Spanswick has written and published a wide range of courses, anthologies, examination syllabuses, and text books, including Play it again: PIANO (published by Schott Music). This best-selling graded, progressive piano course contains a large selection of repertoire featuring a huge array of styles and genres, with copious practice tips and suggestions for every piece.
For more information, please visit the publications page, here.
Melanie Spanswick 