n.b. Although the diagrams illustrate virtually everything necessary, I will add some videos of the exercises within a couple of days.
I've already written a post on this subject, but I wanted to come back to the same issues afresh. Although it's not intended as an outright replacement for the previous article (which features some additional thoughts that are worthy of consideration) it is more a case of wiping the slate clean and going back to the beginning, than of continuing onwards from the last post. At the time I was still getting to grips with major issues that (to the best of my knowledge) no existing piano methods have attempted to directly define. I was certain that I'd observed something important (namely, issues that seemed to suggest that what lies at the core of fine technique has very little to do with the tension/release model that almost all modern methods are founded on) and was taking the first steps at trying to categorise a clearer alternative way of seeing things. Having since spent additional time on these matters, however (both in theory and in terms of practical experiments) I can now give a more complete and definitive explanation of that premise, but in a much more concise and direct form. I've also found a perspective that enables a rigorous proof (all via simple logic, which does not demand notable understanding of physics). For anyone who was baffled by my previous post on the issue, I hope that this version will be extremely easy to digest and that the new diagrams (kindly contributed by Azim Akberali) will assist.
I've already written a post on this subject, but I wanted to come back to the same issues afresh. Although it's not intended as an outright replacement for the previous article (which features some additional thoughts that are worthy of consideration) it is more a case of wiping the slate clean and going back to the beginning, than of continuing onwards from the last post. At the time I was still getting to grips with major issues that (to the best of my knowledge) no existing piano methods have attempted to directly define. I was certain that I'd observed something important (namely, issues that seemed to suggest that what lies at the core of fine technique has very little to do with the tension/release model that almost all modern methods are founded on) and was taking the first steps at trying to categorise a clearer alternative way of seeing things. Having since spent additional time on these matters, however (both in theory and in terms of practical experiments) I can now give a more complete and definitive explanation of that premise, but in a much more concise and direct form. I've also found a perspective that enables a rigorous proof (all via simple logic, which does not demand notable understanding of physics). For anyone who was baffled by my previous post on the issue, I hope that this version will be extremely easy to digest and that the new diagrams (kindly contributed by Azim Akberali) will assist.
Before getting started, I want to briefly clarify why these issues are quite so important. Perhaps most importantly of all, your level of control over the sound of every key that you depress is governed by details in the foundation of how you pass movement on to the key. When looking at the surface there are many different ways to get excellent control and there are many ways to get lumped with erratic and unpredictable results. This post is not about scratching at the mere exterior and it doesn't matter whether you prefer to sit high/low, say, or if you subscribe to armweight/finger schools or whatever else. It's about the underlying similarities between the qualities of movements that objectively CANNOT offer reliable results but, above all, about the consistent factor at the root of all styles that CAN give scope for the most precise level of musical control- so your fingers have the best chance to pass on the exact tonal intensity that you intend to each note. Anyway, before giving any more background, I'll stop to detail how spectacularly simple this concept actually is, right now, via an ultra-concise "idiot's version" of the entire premise, plus illustrative diagrams.
i) If a finger operates as a single lever from a lengthened position, the effectiveness with which movement passes to the key is determined by whether the knuckle is getting higher or lower, relative to the point of contact between fingertip and key. Letting the knuckle drop down is a "negative movement", whereas drawing the knuckle upwards is a "positive movement".
ii) If a finger starts with any curvature, any compression of the distance between fingertip and knuckle during key depression counts as a "negative movement". Any expansion of the distance is a "positive movement".
Note that the diagrams are intended to illustrate whether the distance between knuckle and tip is shrinking or growing . This is the primary issue while moving the key- and not whether the hand directly emulates these exact positions.
Negative movement reduces the control over the energy transfer and the amount of speed that reaches the key. This typically sends excess energy into increased levels of impact at the keybed and unconsciously prompts straining in anticipation of such impacts. Positive movement allows for extreme efficiency and precision of energy transfer. This means a wider range of musical options and more control over tone. Positive movement doesn't always need to be significantly exaggerated. But slipping into a mere trace of negative movement can be enough to have a significantly detrimental effect- which is why it's easier to develop a healthy technique by exaggeration of the positive, rather than by aiming to scrape together a bare minimum. The tension/release model is a very poor model for technique- as the premise does nothing to encourage positive movement. Should positive movement be absent, muscles have to work significantly harder. However, even the most severe fixation can only reduce the intensity of negative movement. Positive movement eradicates the problems of negative movement outright with vastly less physical effort.
Following up from those basic ideas, the most concise summary of the basic methodology for curing physical problems in pianists is thus:
As most tensions are the result of straining to reduce negative movements in the hand (nb. I appreciate that this is as yet unproven, although the rest of the post will offer evidence), the first step is to learn not to fight. For a time you should embrace negative movements, by gently letting them occur to a very notable degree. This needs to be done sensitively and without intent to control, but rather to put physical release first, so as to observe the results. This breaks the habit of using tension (that can run back through the whole arm and further) as a standard means of trying to restrict the possibility of movement. After this has been achieved, you merely have a cleaner slate- but no alternative means by which to prevent negative movement from taking the control out of your sound! At this point, you need to wipe out the harmful effects of negative movements altogether, by using a directly opposite positive movement. Achieving a state of empty relaxation achieves nothing, if positive movement is not ultimately added to this mere starter point. Although radically inferior as a solution, tensions are the only possible alternative by which to combat the ill effects. Without instating positive movement, it is a certainty that numerous muscles will once again tense and overwork in a bid to retain some semblance of control over the sounds being produced.
At its core, it really is that straightforward. In fact, come to think of it, you could simplify the practical consequences even further by saying:
Once you've figured out in which direction it is counterproductive to allow movement, don't ever try to use generic fixation to fight that. Learn, instead, to generate movement in the opposite direction.
The rest of this is primarily clarification of those statements plus proofs. Also, in this companion post, I have gone very directly into the concrete proof of why what I call "positive movement" offers more control over tone than what I call "negative movement". Note that this post is largely aimed at setting a background foundation, so future (and more heavily practically oriented posts) can follow up from directly from that short and simple premise. However, I will introduce exercises that illustrate how to start both seeing and feeling the sheer significance (of an issue that is relevant to every note you will ever play) at the keyboard. Even a tiny amount of negative movement can wreak havoc in your playing. Think of it as being a little like a dog turd in your bowl of ice-cream. It's significantly better if you have very little, than if it's piling up all over. But you're not exactly winning unless you've made sure that you know how to serve ice-cream that contains none.
before and after negative movement
before and after positive movement
ii) If a finger starts with any curvature, any compression of the distance between fingertip and knuckle during key depression counts as a "negative movement". Any expansion of the distance is a "positive movement".
before and after negative movement
before and after positive movement
Note that the diagrams are intended to illustrate whether the distance between knuckle and tip is shrinking or growing . This is the primary issue while moving the key- and not whether the hand directly emulates these exact positions.
Negative movement reduces the control over the energy transfer and the amount of speed that reaches the key. This typically sends excess energy into increased levels of impact at the keybed and unconsciously prompts straining in anticipation of such impacts. Positive movement allows for extreme efficiency and precision of energy transfer. This means a wider range of musical options and more control over tone. Positive movement doesn't always need to be significantly exaggerated. But slipping into a mere trace of negative movement can be enough to have a significantly detrimental effect- which is why it's easier to develop a healthy technique by exaggeration of the positive, rather than by aiming to scrape together a bare minimum. The tension/release model is a very poor model for technique- as the premise does nothing to encourage positive movement. Should positive movement be absent, muscles have to work significantly harder. However, even the most severe fixation can only reduce the intensity of negative movement. Positive movement eradicates the problems of negative movement outright with vastly less physical effort.
Following up from those basic ideas, the most concise summary of the basic methodology for curing physical problems in pianists is thus:
As most tensions are the result of straining to reduce negative movements in the hand (nb. I appreciate that this is as yet unproven, although the rest of the post will offer evidence), the first step is to learn not to fight. For a time you should embrace negative movements, by gently letting them occur to a very notable degree. This needs to be done sensitively and without intent to control, but rather to put physical release first, so as to observe the results. This breaks the habit of using tension (that can run back through the whole arm and further) as a standard means of trying to restrict the possibility of movement. After this has been achieved, you merely have a cleaner slate- but no alternative means by which to prevent negative movement from taking the control out of your sound! At this point, you need to wipe out the harmful effects of negative movements altogether, by using a directly opposite positive movement. Achieving a state of empty relaxation achieves nothing, if positive movement is not ultimately added to this mere starter point. Although radically inferior as a solution, tensions are the only possible alternative by which to combat the ill effects. Without instating positive movement, it is a certainty that numerous muscles will once again tense and overwork in a bid to retain some semblance of control over the sounds being produced.
At its core, it really is that straightforward. In fact, come to think of it, you could simplify the practical consequences even further by saying:
Once you've figured out in which direction it is counterproductive to allow movement, don't ever try to use generic fixation to fight that. Learn, instead, to generate movement in the opposite direction.
The rest of this is primarily clarification of those statements plus proofs. Also, in this companion post, I have gone very directly into the concrete proof of why what I call "positive movement" offers more control over tone than what I call "negative movement". Note that this post is largely aimed at setting a background foundation, so future (and more heavily practically oriented posts) can follow up from directly from that short and simple premise. However, I will introduce exercises that illustrate how to start both seeing and feeling the sheer significance (of an issue that is relevant to every note you will ever play) at the keyboard. Even a tiny amount of negative movement can wreak havoc in your playing. Think of it as being a little like a dog turd in your bowl of ice-cream. It's significantly better if you have very little, than if it's piling up all over. But you're not exactly winning unless you've made sure that you know how to serve ice-cream that contains none.
If the reduction to just two categories of finger movement sounds too simple to explain such wide issues as musical control and physical ease, then please just keep an open mind. I don't expect many people to read something quite so simple and just accept it at the drop of a hat, without seeing some half-decent evidence. Quite frankly, if you really are willing to accept the truth of that analysis without demanding concrete reasoning, then you shouldn't be willing to trust on such a casual basis (especially given how much misinformation is out there about technique). Anyway, have you ever had that feeling where you thought you moved quite intensely (and perhaps felt a fair old whack into the keybed) but for some strange reason hardly any sound came out? I suspect that virtually all pianists have experienced this baffling sensation to at least some degree, at some point. Or have you tried to play a note extremely softly- only to find that the key didn't sound at all? Both of those are classic symptoms of the destructive effects of negative movement.
In order to definitively prove why this deceptively
simple premise plays such a key role, we need merely look at speeds. A great
many pianists have spoken of how volume is defined by the key speed.
Personally, I have always hated the simplistic idea of trying to play
louder by striving to move "quicker". If it were actually that
straightforward, the people who strive to move quickest should logically
make the loudest sound with the most ease. This is simply not so and merely reminds us that superficial applications of "obvious" logic can be overwhelmingly prone to failure (even when seemingly air-tight) unless properly scrutinised. To use the analogy of my
previous post on this matter, the problem with merely aiming for more speed is that it's like telling a person with a
large hole in their bucket that they should "obviously" put more water in next time-
rather than show them how to stop wasting so much through the leak. Tell someone
who struggles to make a big sound to try to move keys quicker and you'll
likely see them spasming and straining like crazy but achieving an aggressive yet
often shallow tone. Yet a great artist may move
seemingly slowly (and may very well advise against trying to move "fast"
into the keys for loud playing) while getting a huge resonant sound
with an effortless quality.
As I said in a previous post, this is not necessarily
an illusion. There's a very simple rational explanation. The person who
tries to move quickly may visibly jerk parts of their body into very
fast speeds- but there is no guarantee that they will transmit that same level of
speed into the key itself! Remember that the only
speed that affects tonal volume is that which is passed to the key. This speed is defined by the speed of the fingertip. This is a matter of indisputable objective fact, regardless of whether that is
generated solely in the finger itself (or if the finger merely passes on movement that originated from an arm-weight based drop). It's still the fingertip that administers the key speed. The pianist who moves their arm quite slowly may actually be generating a notably faster motion in the key, despite the lack of outwardly visible speed or effort. When other parts of the body move visibly fast, the speed of motion that catches the eye does not necessarily make it into the key. As I'll prove
later, what it may well do, however, is contribute to increasing impact and strain when
the key lands.
Although I used to dislike the viewpoint of "speed" for those reasons, I've since realised that looking just slightly
below the surface can turn it into something of huge practical benefit. If we look not merely at a single speed but
instead at relationships of speeds between different areas, it actually
becomes very easy to understand how to generate more tone with less
effort. The ultimate result is that you no longer need to attempt something that feels especially fast. Instead, you will learn to pass on your existing speeds with so little wastage, that it neither looks nor feels "quick".
Anyway, that's enough of the more general background. From here
on, I'll be extremely specific and straight to the point about the two
categories of positive and negative motion and get on with proving the role they play in what is possible. The principle is not restricted to pianism alone, but also relates to any situation where movement passes from one body to another. Firstly, imagine hammering in
a nail. Now, clearly, I don't want anyone imagining piano playing is similar to brutal or insensitive motions. Just consider how
speed is passed on in the situation, for now, and you'll soon discover
the relevance to how effectively a finger can pass speed on to a
key (in a far more sensitive and precise fashion).
Try hammering a nail as seen in this diagram, with a loose grip.
and you'll get a very poor result- something like this.
That's because speed is focussed into the wrong end. The hammer is only moving quickly at the point where you hold it. Upon arrival, the head is moving the nail very slowly (if at all) at the point of contact marked x. How about if we just hold the hammer more tightly, to stop the end falling down like in the second diagram? Okay, now we're passing on some speed, if we can be both stiff and forceful enough. The hammer head is repelled less severely by the nail, thanks to the stiff grip. But we're working absurdly hard and that nail certainly isn't going to pop in without amazing strength of effort. This is a spectacularly inappropriate way to hope to solve what was a "negative movement", of the first category. Pianistically, the sad truth is that a huge number of pianists are trapped in a dichotomy between allowing a similarly destructive movement or overworking to fight it, in precisely this fashion. They too, try to stop the movement that interferes with their task by stiffening unhealthily against it. Would attempting to work that way be alright if you were tomake a point of remembering to relax straight after? Of course not!!! It would be absurd to assume that might do the first thing to prevent injury. To get a better result, we must forget searching for any magic compromise between clenching and relaxation and instead think how to generate MORE movement- but not in the problematic direction. We must generate more movement in the opposite direction to the problematic type of movement.
and you'll get a very poor result- something like this.
That's because speed is focussed into the wrong end. The hammer is only moving quickly at the point where you hold it. Upon arrival, the head is moving the nail very slowly (if at all) at the point of contact marked x. How about if we just hold the hammer more tightly, to stop the end falling down like in the second diagram? Okay, now we're passing on some speed, if we can be both stiff and forceful enough. The hammer head is repelled less severely by the nail, thanks to the stiff grip. But we're working absurdly hard and that nail certainly isn't going to pop in without amazing strength of effort. This is a spectacularly inappropriate way to hope to solve what was a "negative movement", of the first category. Pianistically, the sad truth is that a huge number of pianists are trapped in a dichotomy between allowing a similarly destructive movement or overworking to fight it, in precisely this fashion. They too, try to stop the movement that interferes with their task by stiffening unhealthily against it. Would attempting to work that way be alright if you were tomake a point of remembering to relax straight after? Of course not!!! It would be absurd to assume that might do the first thing to prevent injury. To get a better result, we must forget searching for any magic compromise between clenching and relaxation and instead think how to generate MORE movement- but not in the problematic direction. We must generate more movement in the opposite direction to the problematic type of movement.
This time we will swing in a circle around the elbow:
However, on contact we will then let the end of the hammer begin to RISE instead of fall- ie, a "positive movement" of the first category.
With a loose grip, a reaction force will now cause this to happen just as contact occurs. The speed can now be passed on effectively all the way through to the business end- without any need to grip tightly or brace the arm. Furthermore, allowing the point that is being held to rise a little (in response to the natural reaction) also takes the impact out of the landing- by allowing a run-off for remaining energy, rather than an abrupt stop upon collision. If you pause to consider what impact actually is, it can best be defined as an excessively sudden stop (nb. strictly speaking, it's actually a sudden "change of momentum", which is why you can be killed when standing still and getting hit by a speeding car, but in pianism we will only suffer from abrupt deceleration). Jump off a skyscraper on to a concrete pavement and you will die for the simple reason that your momentum is stopped so violently when you hit the ground. Land into a thick foam mat that has plenty of give, however, and the deceleration is gradual enough to keep you safe. Swinging the hammer in a circular path without allowing that little bit of upward movement would work, from the nail's point of view. But from your body's point of view, it would make for totally senseless impact (which is made especially damaging by the stiffness of the muscles, during the sudden stop). It's simply unnecessary to fight the roll forward and up, as energy can still flow where it is required with efficiency. It's not a movement that requires retreat or restraint during landing, but a movement that it is perfectly safe to continue through, assuming you do so in this fashion. Note how the central pivot is marked in the diagrams by "x". The initial approach involves a circular motion around the elbow. But in the instant of contact, we allow further circular movement to occur around the point where the hammer contacts the nail. Allowing this sudden "change of ends" for the pivot is vital to the possibility of a soft landing!
However, on contact we will then let the end of the hammer begin to RISE instead of fall- ie, a "positive movement" of the first category.
With a loose grip, a reaction force will now cause this to happen just as contact occurs. The speed can now be passed on effectively all the way through to the business end- without any need to grip tightly or brace the arm. Furthermore, allowing the point that is being held to rise a little (in response to the natural reaction) also takes the impact out of the landing- by allowing a run-off for remaining energy, rather than an abrupt stop upon collision. If you pause to consider what impact actually is, it can best be defined as an excessively sudden stop (nb. strictly speaking, it's actually a sudden "change of momentum", which is why you can be killed when standing still and getting hit by a speeding car, but in pianism we will only suffer from abrupt deceleration). Jump off a skyscraper on to a concrete pavement and you will die for the simple reason that your momentum is stopped so violently when you hit the ground. Land into a thick foam mat that has plenty of give, however, and the deceleration is gradual enough to keep you safe. Swinging the hammer in a circular path without allowing that little bit of upward movement would work, from the nail's point of view. But from your body's point of view, it would make for totally senseless impact (which is made especially damaging by the stiffness of the muscles, during the sudden stop). It's simply unnecessary to fight the roll forward and up, as energy can still flow where it is required with efficiency. It's not a movement that requires retreat or restraint during landing, but a movement that it is perfectly safe to continue through, assuming you do so in this fashion. Note how the central pivot is marked in the diagrams by "x". The initial approach involves a circular motion around the elbow. But in the instant of contact, we allow further circular movement to occur around the point where the hammer contacts the nail. Allowing this sudden "change of ends" for the pivot is vital to the possibility of a soft landing!
Apply this to the piano and we have almost comprehensive equivalence. This
is a very direct analogy regarding the nature of energy transmission,
not some flowery metaphor. If we start with a run up, we have the equivalent arc around the elbow.
When moving the key, positive movement must again occur around the new pivot, ie. around the point where finger connects with key. Regardless of whether we descended from a height or started from contact, positive movement occurs in this path:
Just like with the hammer, the change of the centre of movement is vital. The vast majority will try to fight the new arc of movement with needless tension, rather than embrace it. It's senseless to restrict this motion, as it's exactly what allows the comfortable landing. The arm should be free enough to allow positive movement to start to occur around x- with no stiffening or shoving straight down! Although the word "hammering" is typically used to refer to the most stiff and insensitive pounding of a piano, consideration of how to take the impact out of hammer blows into a nail actually tells us a good deal about how to play the piano more safely. Ironically, I suspect that many who habitually charge into horrific impacts by "hammering" at the piano might be rather better at softening landings if they first practised with an actual hammer- given quite how much it hurts if you don't allow it to rebound freely. That level of pain can be quite a fine deterrent to fighting against positive movement with stiff muscles. Bringing in this safe rebound from good hammer technique would actually teach them to stop digging in so coarsely and instead land more comfortably at the piano, too.
When moving the key, positive movement must again occur around the new pivot, ie. around the point where finger connects with key. Regardless of whether we descended from a height or started from contact, positive movement occurs in this path:
Just like with the hammer, the change of the centre of movement is vital. The vast majority will try to fight the new arc of movement with needless tension, rather than embrace it. It's senseless to restrict this motion, as it's exactly what allows the comfortable landing. The arm should be free enough to allow positive movement to start to occur around x- with no stiffening or shoving straight down! Although the word "hammering" is typically used to refer to the most stiff and insensitive pounding of a piano, consideration of how to take the impact out of hammer blows into a nail actually tells us a good deal about how to play the piano more safely. Ironically, I suspect that many who habitually charge into horrific impacts by "hammering" at the piano might be rather better at softening landings if they first practised with an actual hammer- given quite how much it hurts if you don't allow it to rebound freely. That level of pain can be quite a fine deterrent to fighting against positive movement with stiff muscles. Bringing in this safe rebound from good hammer technique would actually teach them to stop digging in so coarsely and instead land more comfortably at the piano, too.
Anyway, at the piano start with an extended and flattened
finger, that acts as a single lever by staying at constant length (nb remember that positions involving curvature or movements in the mid joints work quite differently and will be separately covered by the second category). If
the knuckle is falling, it is moving substantially faster than the
fingertip and the key will thus be moved weakly. Try this, without actively intending to even move the key. Just swing the knuckle down and observe the pathetic, flaccid connection to the key and the weak tone it achieves. A key is a lot more willing to move than a nail, but it's almost as inept as the result was when letting your end of the hammer down. Try at different speeds and see just how little scope there is to control the sound. Now start aiming for a range of specific tonal intensities, while always keeping the finger at length and simply letting the knuckle down passively. Even if you try to start pulling from the knuckle at the same time, you'll realise that it's simply not in a position to have much more meaningful control over the result than when you merely flop. If the knuckle is rising a
little as the finger pulls, however, it can be generating significant key speed from a
substantially slower movement. As long as the finger stays at length and the knuckle is going in the right direction,
speed can be passed on just fine. Whether we look at hammer and nail or
finger and key, if the end of the lever through which energy is flowing through
should be falling even slightly (within this type of circular movement
around a point of contact) then you simply will not be able to pass on speed effectively. As
I said, I call this "negative movement". If this point is allowed to
rise slightly through the duration of contact, however, speed can flows into
the place where it counts. We have illustrated here, in practise, exactly what I stated earlier:
Achieving some movement in the positive direction eliminates any need to try to fight against the ill effects of negative direction of movement, via tension. The hard work associated with fixation no longer serves a (superficially) useful purpose and only serves to limit the freedom for useful movement.
Of course, there are still many ways to get it wrong when seeking positive movement and there are all kinds of issues regarding the rest of the body which should also be brought into a big picture. However, this particular issue is not so much the "tip of the iceberg", but rather the most fundamental core issue. When you understand what is needed at the business end of events, you can link the rest of the arm and body, as part of a coherently unified mechanism. With many methods that speak little of the role of finger and hand, you risk looking at all manner of minutia, without even glancing at the gaping hole in the bottom of the bucket. Tensions that are carried by a person about their daily life can be a slightly different issue that can require alternative approaches. But the kinds of tensions that arise specifically during the act of piano playing usually exist due to the need to combat negative movement at this end. Shoulder and arm fixations may have little to no possibility of being solved in a lasting way, until a foundation in positive movement connects the hand and arm meaningfully. I'm a firm believer in thinking from shoulder down to fingertip some of the time (so the finger may even feel like a mere "extension of the arm at times")- but the opposite perspective is also vital. Positive movement starts at the fingertip and runs backwards. Nothing else in the body can make up for missing out, at the end which actually determines what the key receives.
Achieving some movement in the positive direction eliminates any need to try to fight against the ill effects of negative direction of movement, via tension. The hard work associated with fixation no longer serves a (superficially) useful purpose and only serves to limit the freedom for useful movement.
Of course, there are still many ways to get it wrong when seeking positive movement and there are all kinds of issues regarding the rest of the body which should also be brought into a big picture. However, this particular issue is not so much the "tip of the iceberg", but rather the most fundamental core issue. When you understand what is needed at the business end of events, you can link the rest of the arm and body, as part of a coherently unified mechanism. With many methods that speak little of the role of finger and hand, you risk looking at all manner of minutia, without even glancing at the gaping hole in the bottom of the bucket. Tensions that are carried by a person about their daily life can be a slightly different issue that can require alternative approaches. But the kinds of tensions that arise specifically during the act of piano playing usually exist due to the need to combat negative movement at this end. Shoulder and arm fixations may have little to no possibility of being solved in a lasting way, until a foundation in positive movement connects the hand and arm meaningfully. I'm a firm believer in thinking from shoulder down to fingertip some of the time (so the finger may even feel like a mere "extension of the arm at times")- but the opposite perspective is also vital. Positive movement starts at the fingertip and runs backwards. Nothing else in the body can make up for missing out, at the end which actually determines what the key receives.
Anyway, the principle of positive movement applies the same whether you started with a "run up" or not. If you start from the key, the knuckle should be given room to rise a little as you pull on the key. If you start by dropping the arm from a height, by the time you are moving the key you must have SWITCHED from a falling knuckle to one that is allowed to be rising, in order to pass on speed effectively. Carry on dropping it like a stone and you get a poor speed transfer. Try this on the piano and see. It's just like the hammer example. No matter how you got there, at the time when the key is moving the knuckle should almost definitely not be going down (or stiffening to fight that)- but moving slightly in the opposite direction. Again, the tension/release model offers no basis for a worthy solution. However, if we look at good quality hammer technique (in which, rather than drop the arm like a stone, we lighten slightly to make room to run into positive movement), we have an ideal model for taking the impact out of piano technique. Note also that, in both cases, if you approach from a circular path, rather than drop straight down, you're less likely to progress into negative movement. As long as you allow the centre of the circle (as marked by the X in the diagrams) to switch from the elbow across to the fingertip or hammer head, positive movement is almost guaranteed. (n.b. only "almost" though- I won't go into notable detail right now, but letting the thumb reach up as you land could still allow the knuckles to droop down into negative movement. In a future post I'll address this more directly).
Negative movement is almost always detrimental, but I'll just show one exceptional type of situation where I use the first category of negative movement deliberately, for a musical effect. When playing chords, swinging the knuckle down gives a very uniformly neutral and empty sound. Extremes of voicing are out of the question. If that's typical of your technique in general, don't expect many people to be interested in hearing such monotonous and limited sound production. However, in this example from Schubert, I actually like to make an unusually "dead" sound for the surprise harmony. It's possible to make the unexpected chord sound special via more conventional means of voicing (example 1). However, executing this particular harmony by swinging both the wrist and knuckles down (example 2) brings out an unnervingly chilling quality. When moving positively in the fingers, it can actually become hard NOT to play with some kind of differentiation and musical warmth. In this case, negative movement actually becomes an effective tool for an effect.
(videos to be added, shortly)
For the second scenario, we don't need to limit the finger
to acting as a singular lever, so this covers a much broader range of possibilities. It can start in any curve desired and it
can move as you please. There is a very simple dynamic which governs how
speed is passed on. As I already stated, if the distance between
knuckle and fingertip is getting squashed we have a problem of negative
movement. If that distance is shortening due to a descending knuckle, then the knuckle is travelling faster than the fingertip. Thus it is again certain that the fastest speed is not passing into the key. (Strictly speaking, the distance could also shorten due to closing up the joint at the very tip of the finger. This would not fall under the same classification, although I don't personally recommend it as a standard action for separate reasons, that are both mechanical and anatomical)
To feel negative movement in practise, start with relaxed curved
fingers and keep them as loose as can be. Then gently prod them against the other
hand and watch the speeds. The tips are quickly slowed by the collision but the knuckle continues travelling towards them at a faster speed. Now stiffen a little
and do the same- purely to see how ineffective this is. Note that you could strain like a mad man (not that I
advise doing so) but they ALWAYS collapse at least a little,
regardless, when contacting resistance (even that of a piano key, which gives way) . Even skycrapers sway very notably in a strong breeze. Not only is it unhealthy to clench but all it
does is reduce the wastage of speed- as the knuckle still
gains a little on the fingertip. Either relaxed or stiff, negative
movement of this kind will fail to pass on speed with maximum efficiency and will send the wasted energy into impact.
Again, getting trapped into a quest to find the right balance between tension and the even grosser unsuitability of literal relaxation is a dead end strategy that misses the necessary premise for solution outright. The end of this post on the fingers gives similar demonstrations of the futility of trying to immobilise the fingers in lieu of some positive movement. The only meaningful answer is to at least try to move a little. Many have tried to claim that pianism requires a fixed fulcrum at the knuckle (notably including Otto Ortmann- who blackened the reputation of approaching technique scientifically by making such outrageous errors as to render many of his conclusions grossly misleading). They are plain wrong, I'm afraid and there's not a single positive about operating under such a terrible misapprehension. Letting the knuckle down is a big problem, but encouraging a strategy of muscular fixation to fight that is a horribly misguided attempt at a solution, that hasn't properly referenced theory against the practical nature of reality. Just as with the hammer example, the only effective answer is to be willing to go up, if that's where the reaction is taking you- not to stiffen the muscles in a futile bid to stop all movement from being possible in any direction.
Think how swimmers are told go with a rip tide in the sea- rather than try in vain to swim right against it. Some things are too powerful to be worth an unnecessary fight. Note that in many instances, the knuckle may stay in the same place (satisfying the definition of positive movement due to the tip moving away from it, rather than by the knuckle moving up in space)- but that's not to say it's "fixed". If you were in a squatting position and someone were about to press down on your shoulders, would you want to just stiffen up for stability? It wouldn't be the best answer. In order not to be crumpled up further, you couldn't either fixate or relax. You'd need to try to move upwards slightly before they start pushing down on you. In such a situation, you may actually end up balanced in one spot- but you best achieve that by trying to move in the positive direction- and not by trying to find a way become as rigid as a block of steel! Ortmann tried to be scientific, but he made a truly shocking practical blunder- by failing to be aware of the significant objective difference fixing something into a position in space, compared to sensitively tuned BALANCE. It's almost like suggesting that we'd have to "fix" joints in our legs whilst walking in order not to fall over. We don't. The reason our knees don't buckle is because we're lengthening the legs out while walking over them- not because we're "fixing" the joint. Balance is fluid in a way that constantly changes and adjusts in subtle ways. Even when the outward appearance is of relative stillness it doesn't logically follow that anything has been "fixed", or that such an intention will yield good results. This is why positive movement should always be aimed for, in at least some quantity, and why simply striving to "preserve" a static hand position is generally a pretty hopeless premise for technique.
As the phrase goes: "Attack is the best form of defence".
So, now be increasing the distance between knuckles and fingertip (ie lengthening out the finger) very gently, just a split second before contacting the other hand. Also roll just a little forwards and in as you do so. Colliding directly could still give a tiny bit of impact (compared to the cushioned keybed of a piano) but you can reduce that by having a tiny run off to the motion. Collapse is now off the radar entirely even with a very low effort movement- but you must start slightly in advance with the fingers and not wait until they are already facing resistance that would compress them. Allowing negative movement to come first would wipe out the chance to enter positive movement- just as surely as starting in the act of positive movement tends to wipe out the possibility of slipping into negative movement. Again, the productive manner of movement entirely eradicates the problematic type of movement in a way that clenching or relaxation cannot offer- and with far less effort than when we stiffen hard, yet still make a loss. Not only can we now pass on the full speed of a moving knuckle to the key, but the expansion means that the fingertip is travelling faster than the knuckle. Rather than losing anything in transmission, this style of movement passes the full speed of the knuckle on to the key, plus a little more still!
If you're still not clear why this is such a vital issue to health, take a truly relaxed finger and put it vertically over a key and allow the knuckle to droop until the finger crumples entirely. Again, don't intend to move the key or to produce a specific sound, but just try to notice what the key receives when this occurs. Do you feel the bump AFTER the sound occurs? It's hard to turn off your instinct about piano playing but don't do anything but flop down. If you are passive enough, your whole arm will plop into impact after the finger made a flimsy sound. It's the same way a train would concertina together in a head on crash. The energy doesn't hit all at once, even with a hard train. With a collapsing finger, a rather pathetic amount of energy passes within the period in which you are determining the sound and then the best part of the energy merely provides a useless aftershock into the keybed. This is a very extreme example, but this concept perhaps explains why some pianists have a very ugly tone quality. Movements with ANY collapse have some level of wastage and an aftershock that compresses down after sound (and remember that tightened muscles provide terrible shock absorbers, compared to loose muscles). Positive movements do not only keep muscles supple while sending speed through the key, but they also push any extra energy safely up and away rather than down into a compressed impact. At the highest volumes in the thickest chords, you get a much purer tone from positive movement, with far less additional noise effect. I assure you that when you play loud into an open pedal, the big thuds associated with negative movement can be notably audible (nb. I'll write a post in future about the idea that science ever "proved" tone to be impossible- which is a complete myth that has been evidenced as such by credible experiments). When you are trapped in trying to find a balance between fixation and collapse, you must hit the piano a lot more forcefully and stiffly to get a big sound. Positive movement enables a much purer loud sound, not only thanks to the mechanism for absorbing excess energy, but also thanks to the fact that less energy needs to be employed, in the first place, to achieve volume.
Again, getting trapped into a quest to find the right balance between tension and the even grosser unsuitability of literal relaxation is a dead end strategy that misses the necessary premise for solution outright. The end of this post on the fingers gives similar demonstrations of the futility of trying to immobilise the fingers in lieu of some positive movement. The only meaningful answer is to at least try to move a little. Many have tried to claim that pianism requires a fixed fulcrum at the knuckle (notably including Otto Ortmann- who blackened the reputation of approaching technique scientifically by making such outrageous errors as to render many of his conclusions grossly misleading). They are plain wrong, I'm afraid and there's not a single positive about operating under such a terrible misapprehension. Letting the knuckle down is a big problem, but encouraging a strategy of muscular fixation to fight that is a horribly misguided attempt at a solution, that hasn't properly referenced theory against the practical nature of reality. Just as with the hammer example, the only effective answer is to be willing to go up, if that's where the reaction is taking you- not to stiffen the muscles in a futile bid to stop all movement from being possible in any direction.
Think how swimmers are told go with a rip tide in the sea- rather than try in vain to swim right against it. Some things are too powerful to be worth an unnecessary fight. Note that in many instances, the knuckle may stay in the same place (satisfying the definition of positive movement due to the tip moving away from it, rather than by the knuckle moving up in space)- but that's not to say it's "fixed". If you were in a squatting position and someone were about to press down on your shoulders, would you want to just stiffen up for stability? It wouldn't be the best answer. In order not to be crumpled up further, you couldn't either fixate or relax. You'd need to try to move upwards slightly before they start pushing down on you. In such a situation, you may actually end up balanced in one spot- but you best achieve that by trying to move in the positive direction- and not by trying to find a way become as rigid as a block of steel! Ortmann tried to be scientific, but he made a truly shocking practical blunder- by failing to be aware of the significant objective difference fixing something into a position in space, compared to sensitively tuned BALANCE. It's almost like suggesting that we'd have to "fix" joints in our legs whilst walking in order not to fall over. We don't. The reason our knees don't buckle is because we're lengthening the legs out while walking over them- not because we're "fixing" the joint. Balance is fluid in a way that constantly changes and adjusts in subtle ways. Even when the outward appearance is of relative stillness it doesn't logically follow that anything has been "fixed", or that such an intention will yield good results. This is why positive movement should always be aimed for, in at least some quantity, and why simply striving to "preserve" a static hand position is generally a pretty hopeless premise for technique.
As the phrase goes: "Attack is the best form of defence".
So, now be increasing the distance between knuckles and fingertip (ie lengthening out the finger) very gently, just a split second before contacting the other hand. Also roll just a little forwards and in as you do so. Colliding directly could still give a tiny bit of impact (compared to the cushioned keybed of a piano) but you can reduce that by having a tiny run off to the motion. Collapse is now off the radar entirely even with a very low effort movement- but you must start slightly in advance with the fingers and not wait until they are already facing resistance that would compress them. Allowing negative movement to come first would wipe out the chance to enter positive movement- just as surely as starting in the act of positive movement tends to wipe out the possibility of slipping into negative movement. Again, the productive manner of movement entirely eradicates the problematic type of movement in a way that clenching or relaxation cannot offer- and with far less effort than when we stiffen hard, yet still make a loss. Not only can we now pass on the full speed of a moving knuckle to the key, but the expansion means that the fingertip is travelling faster than the knuckle. Rather than losing anything in transmission, this style of movement passes the full speed of the knuckle on to the key, plus a little more still!
If you're still not clear why this is such a vital issue to health, take a truly relaxed finger and put it vertically over a key and allow the knuckle to droop until the finger crumples entirely. Again, don't intend to move the key or to produce a specific sound, but just try to notice what the key receives when this occurs. Do you feel the bump AFTER the sound occurs? It's hard to turn off your instinct about piano playing but don't do anything but flop down. If you are passive enough, your whole arm will plop into impact after the finger made a flimsy sound. It's the same way a train would concertina together in a head on crash. The energy doesn't hit all at once, even with a hard train. With a collapsing finger, a rather pathetic amount of energy passes within the period in which you are determining the sound and then the best part of the energy merely provides a useless aftershock into the keybed. This is a very extreme example, but this concept perhaps explains why some pianists have a very ugly tone quality. Movements with ANY collapse have some level of wastage and an aftershock that compresses down after sound (and remember that tightened muscles provide terrible shock absorbers, compared to loose muscles). Positive movements do not only keep muscles supple while sending speed through the key, but they also push any extra energy safely up and away rather than down into a compressed impact. At the highest volumes in the thickest chords, you get a much purer tone from positive movement, with far less additional noise effect. I assure you that when you play loud into an open pedal, the big thuds associated with negative movement can be notably audible (nb. I'll write a post in future about the idea that science ever "proved" tone to be impossible- which is a complete myth that has been evidenced as such by credible experiments). When you are trapped in trying to find a balance between fixation and collapse, you must hit the piano a lot more forcefully and stiffly to get a big sound. Positive movement enables a much purer loud sound, not only thanks to the mechanism for absorbing excess energy, but also thanks to the fact that less energy needs to be employed, in the first place, to achieve volume.
Postlude
Now, I did earlier state that it doesn't matter whether you come from an armweight school or a finger school. I stand by that statement- as these are universal truths and not something that can be side-stepped by any "other" issues. So be aware that if you do come from a school that is weighted chiefly towards the arm, these proofs of the importance of the hand's constant role have major significance. There are ways to use the arm that can encourage the fingers to open into positive movement, which I'll detail more in future posts. However, these are VERY specific (as a preliminary clue, picture casting a fishing rod or cracking a whip- you actually have to slow down your arm, just before the whip/line can be passively thrown out into serious motion). For the vast majority of situations, using notable arm weight creates a situation that actively contributes to squashing the hand and makes the need for positive movement all the greater. Arm weight was exactly what caused all the negative movement in the prior exercise. Arm weight does not pass speed effectively through a passive hand.. If you are negligent about generating some positive movement in the hand, looking to the arm for all the energy can easily inspire impact and all the other associated problems- ironically placing more stress on the underperforming hand, rather than relieving it of work. Arm weight methods are only truly effective where they involve some positive movement in the hand- not where they try to replace it. The same is true with rotation practise- as per Taubman method. If there is no positive movement in the finger, you can only either land stiffly or collapse significantly. Frankly, on their demonstrations it indeed looks rather stiff and often loaded with impact. The sound also tends to be punched out unmusically. I didn't find any lasting benefit from the method until I learned how to use rotation to complement slow but positive movements in the finger- which finally turned it into a source of freedom, ease and musical control (nb. I would usually expect tonal control when doing this type of rotation practise, in order to gain from the experience). In other words, the adaptations I like to incorporate could scarcely make it much more different, compared to the forceful hard-toned crash landings seen in this at around 7:00 in:
In fairness, if your arms are typically locked solid, the method can greatly reduce the problems of an extremely faulty technique and completely liberate the forearm. In line with what I said near the start, for a little while you could rotate and observe negative movements in a very limp and passive hand- purely for the sake of taking out any tensions that have become a habit. But what I see there looks tight, stiff and jerky! I'd either intentionally let the fingers sag floppily and do it purely to inspire a foundation of relaxation, or I'd already be involving slow but deliberate finger movement to remove the need for tensions. What I see there is moments of stiffening in the hand, followed by stopping into a position that is still slightly stressed into compression. It's just like the hammer action that ends in a dead stop, without that all important continuation into freedom. I don't see fluid and supple movements that are fit for sophisticated pianism. Due to the neglect of the finger's key role of movement, it's really not a model for real world technique unless we complement the basic idea with awareness of the significance of positive movement. How curious that after digging into the rotational movements with inactive fingers, she then lightens up and uses a simple positive quality of genuine finger movement to breeze across the scales in the last minute of the film. She really didn't learn the final quality from the coarse way that she punched at keys in the slower tempo (without moving the fingers either positively or sensitively). The only thing from the rotation work that remains is the freedom and good alignment of the arm. The rest only works via an evolved quality of finger movement- which is not guaranteed to reach any such standard, unless you find a way to actually involve this element during the slower rotational work.
Anyway, I'll talk more directly about the secrets to doing rotation and arm-based strategies effectively (ie with comfortable fluidity in both sound and movement) in future. However, it's often said that a chain is only as strong as its strongest link. In pianism, if the transfer of movement between finger and key is anything less than your finest link, no other strong links can truly compensate. It's true that moving the fingers without linking to the whole arm makes for a lot of problems, but no amount of attention to the arm can replace the hand's consistent duty to generate at least a trace of positive movement, while that is going on. With any arm method which preaches that the arm passes energy through fingers that merely "support", the only way to truly succeed is to "support" it by introducing positive movement- not by an instant of tension followed by an instant of release (don't forget how hopeless it is to merely relax afterwards, if hammering a nail with a stiff arm!). Likewise, the idea of using "relaxed" fingers to pass on arm weight is simply not grounded in physical reality, in any respect. That's what we did for real the exercise where you let your finger collapse into a cluster, not a means of actually playing.
In the real world, relaxation in a finger (that is trying to play) is just tension by proxy, as the relaxed finger can't perform the job. Any premise of either passivity or fixation in the hand can only ever mean impact and stress (no matter how vociferously the advocate might claim that the weight of the arm might supposedly work on the hand's behalf), That is, UNLESS the pianist in question is lucky enough to unconsciously discover the superiority of some subtle levels of positive movement- with which to phase-out losing battles against negative movement. If they don't luck on this aspect, they'll have to depend on tension. My big problem with the Taubman school and many other modern arm centered methods is that they scarcely address the important link in the chain. They neither define nor give any real clues as to the issues that I had to discover for myself, before finding success. If anything, they arguably throw a lot of red herrings- by portraying extremely subjective ideas as if they were universal "rules". Many of these purported rules actively discourage the development of positive movement. Rotation can be extremely valuable, but I don't believe in leaving the association to the finger down to chance. I didn't profit from it at all until positive movement in the finger became the primary goal, with rotation being a secondary enabler- that helps maintain freedoms and a whole body connection, when moving the finger. For some baffling reason, Taubman puts rotation first (even though it is reduced to the point where it cannot account for moving keys) and does very little at all to explain the finger's role.
