Alignment and the role of the arms, part i

In this post I'm going to cover the nature of one-ended support systems compared to two-ended support systems- illustrating what is possible from each with some awareness exercises for the arms. Both states are required for piano playing (sometimes in rapid alternation). However, I'd like to show how much less effort is required when maintaining two-ended support- if you take the opportunity to make the arm hang in a "suspended chain" state. I'll be showing how you can enter a state where the wrist and elbow can be aligned within a suitable playing position despite literally no muscular efforts or tension being required around these joints- and giving a practical exercise to prove that this is indeed possible. I'm also going to try to break through the mysteries of what "alignment" really is- and show how easily it is actually found, when you know what to look for.

Firstly, hold both arms outstretched in front of you. Relax as much as possible and stay like that for a minute or so. So how "relaxed" do you feel now? Even the most efficient use of the body cannot change the fact that you are having to generate a number of large forces to resist the pull of gravity. If you want to keep everything straight, you can only relax the muscles up to a point- a point where they still have a substantial amount to do. The intention of staying there prevents full relaxation of countless muscles- because this intention is stronger than any conflicting intentions to relax. If you are not willing to have your arms fall down, obviously you cannot release the specific muscles that are stopping them from doing so- without achieving the impossible.

Now shake your hands and arms into release and let them flop to your sides. Although still in a one-ended support system (via the attachment in the shoulder) they have now been brought into a natural balance with gravity, so when you "relax" you can relax into the truest and most literal release of effort. You can hang your arms as freely as you like. Once they are in balance with gravity, relaxation cannot cause any unwanted movement. We all tend to retain at least some muscular activity even in this state. For a healthy person they should be pretty miniscule efforts compared to those that are required to maintain an outstretched arm- although there is much value in learning to perceive and remove these habitual traces of tension too. 

When in a one-ended support system, any outstretched position can only be stabilised against gravity by constant muscular contraction around EVERY successive joint (note that this is not a case of "spreading out" the work- ie. in one-sided support no amount of effort in any particular joint can contribute a thing towards stabilising any other joint). When extended, the arms could be held with the least effort physically possible, but every successive joint must still be balanced by successive efforts in localised muscles- so it is tiring. It's like trying to hold a long sword out horizontally, without any help at the other end. Note that this is not a poetic metaphor but a very close comparison. It takes vastly more of an effort to support a horizontally extended structure from just one end (even without the internal joints to balance). Now imagine resting the sword upon something at the other end. The force required from you to keep it balanced will be drastically reduced.  This is the key difference between a one-ended support system and a two ended support system.

Now let's think of the playing position and how to achieve a state of two sided balance. We already established that a released arm can slip off the keys. But how much force do the fingers need to provide to create a point of support and at which angle? Well, head down to your cellar and grab the freshest and most intact corpse that is lying about. Tie it to a chair, seated upright. Grab a couple of the fingers and pull them towards you. Can you align the corpse's arm into what would be a suitable playing position ? It really ought to be very easy to do so.

The above diagram shows an approximate angle that you might have to pull, in order to stabilise everything into balance (simplified to 2 dimensions here, although I shall also talk about the role of the 3rd dimension later). I have also marked the paths in which motion would occur around the shoulder and elbow (although this is prevented by your pull on the fingers). Note that the upper segment of the arm forms a slight angle. If it hangs straight down, the force that tugs backwards is necessarily reduced and the wrist might even slump down slightly rather than become suspended in the long line of the whole arm. This is where it is different from the sword. A sword is a single structure that contains no hinges. However, the arm has one in the wrist. If you tried to simply rest directly "on top" of the keys (like when resting one end of a sword on something), the wrist would collapse downwards, unless fixed into position. Imagine what would happen if the sword contained a hinge! You could no longer rest one end without something to stabilise that hinge. This is why excessively up/down based thinking automatically leads to uncontrolled muscular efforts, no matter how much you might hope to release them. Unlike the (regular) sword, the area that extends from elbow to the fingertip must be kept together with HORIZONTAL forces- or there is no hope whatsoever of balancing a released wrist!  

You need to consider this when lining up your own stool- to be sure there is enough angle to ensure that release of the upper arm is providing a big enough component of force that will pull backwards at the elbow. Seeing as your subject is lifeless in the experiment, in this case it is abundantly clear that there is no requirement of any internal muscular activity in sustaining this balanced alignment. The only actively generated force is being provided by your pull. With a living subject, the equivalent balancing force will be provided by a small ongoing grip that occurs internally, within the finger. Also, remember that, unlike the corpse, a living person has the option to employ some more active muscular support at the shoulder- meaning that the size of this balancing force can be made even smaller still!

For those of you who are fresh out of cadavers, simply get hold of a bottle of chloroform. An unconscious subject will do just as well. However, if you're fearful of acquiring a criminal record, just get a friend to shake their arms as loose as possible and then pull their hand towards you (starting from a position where the whole arm hangs straight down). The problem is that most people will be inclined to use their muscles to start lifting.  However, if you shake their arm around, to encourage release (whenever you feel them helping) hopefully you will be able to get a good feel for just how small the balancing force really is- compared to what the traditional arm-weight school might have you believe about how "heavy" the released arm is supposed to be.

From this experiment, it should become evident that the downward forces that stem from universal release are not large.While an arm may be a good few kilogrammes in mass, the idea that even a wholly released arm automatically creates some gigantic force against a piano is a pure myth- as this should illustrate to you. The force that results from full release is fairly small (except when momentum is accumulated by dropping from a great height) and largely acts horizontally upon the hand. Even if you were pulling on the end of a big heavy steel chain (tied to a fixed point at  the other end) so as to keep it taut, the force applied would still be primarily horizontal. When supporting your friend's arm, you should easily feel that your action is almost entirely towards yourself- and is not based on holding the arm up. A released arm will primarily be pulling away from you, not downwards.

Try getting your friend to pull your own hand out in the same way, and see if you can get a feel for releasing absolutely everything. The average arm should not feel particularly "heavy" at all, but simply enormously free and released. However don't go out of your way to force it to be "light" either! Remember it's very important to avoid any preconceptions about what is supposed to result- as they translate into active yet unnoticed muscular efforts all too easily. Bacon's old truism about how experiments tend to "prove" what they are supposed to is all too true here- so remember simply to strive for release and OBSERVE. Keep shaking the arm loose and then let it truly "hang" between the shoulder and the point of support at the finger. If you can get the whole arm to go as limp as that of a corpse (even in your hand for now), you are getting a feel for the most truly neutral yet balanced starting point- the purest "suspended chain" state that the arm is capable of. Alignment can be difficult to attain when viewed from the exterior, but finding alignment really is spectacularly simple when you view it this way. When the arm hangs between shoulder and hand the alignment can literally create itself. In this experiment you cannot do a thing to make this state occur You simply have to let it occur in response to an external force. When I get onto the finger side I'll show how, in regular legato playing, alignment can still be made to create itself to a very large extent- even when the hand and shoulder are becoming active rather than behaving this passively.

Note that when you pull a loose rope or chain from both ends, it straightens itself- without any remotely precise activity. However, if you push on a loose rope or chain, it can go all over the place with very little predictability. This same principle applies here- remember that the arm is literally a chain of joints. This is no vague metaphor. Actions that are based on pulling a chain of joints create order and lead to predictable and easily repeated results, whereas actions that are based on pushing create greater complexity and make the results vastly less predictable (unless links in the chain are fixed into position). Of course, sometimes great pianists will break with standard alignment and use variants for good reason. However, the baseline for regular alignment is spectacularly simple when based upon allowing a released arm to hang itself into place between shoulder and finger. This is what I mean when I say that great pianists don't just make it look easy. A pianist who tries to create alignment from the outside alone is simply attempting something that is far harder and far more complex than what an experienced virtuoso really does (especially if they are trying to push with the arm, throughout passages of regular finger work!). A true virtuoso feels a few very simple balancing actions on the inside and the majority of alignment can ensue as if by magic- because that is the state in which gravity balances the middle of the chain. I should stress that I am not ruling out some fine tuning with the muscles beyond this- but it's far easier to release into the starting point of a neutrally suspended arm than to try to start by trying to manually crank every individual area into a very specific place.

In part two I will go into some exercises that are based around starting to employ some slight balancing forces at the shoulder, without resort to stiffening. In practice, the shoulder needs to be able to release/support as much or as little of the arm's weight as you desire, in order for the fingers to perform a variety of different actions, while maintaining balance. However, if you go about supporting the weight in the wrong way, the fingers end up with nothing to pull against and the whole arm starts having to stiffen to stabilise their actions (and likely having to push through them to compensate). This is also where the third axis of sideways motions comes into it. It is certainly not desirable to let the shoulders slump inwards against the body, so it's also important to learn how to take support at the shoulder- provided that you are still releasing enough to keep the chain of the arm hanging taut, rather than being notably held up around the elbow and wrist! Anyway, more exercises (to start on the active efforts that need to be added to this initial state of total release) will come shortly.

Clearing up a number of issues- including gravity as a power source, finger "isolation", the passive role of the arm, fixation compared to balanced stillness and why fingers should seek to maintain the support mechanism at the keybed without undue effort- not simply "relax"!

 I had intended to get straight onto some exercises for the arms within this post, although I'd like to just take the time to clarify a number of issues first, based on aspects of feedback. After this post, I intend to concentrate almost exclusively on the "how", rather than spend much more time on the the "why", until I have fully covered the basic role of both arms and fingers.

At this point, I'd particularly to be clear that the style of movement and balance that I will be explaining first is a kind of base level- a foundation upon which all kinds of seemingly diverse techniques (which may well look rather different on the surface) can be built. I believe that the ability to create stability by making the arm into a taut chain that is supported against collapse via only two points (rather than create a structure that can only resist collapse with internal muscular efforts around every joint) is a necessary requirement for anyone hoping to reach the highest level. See the end of my previous post for diagrams that illustrate how much less effort it is to support a chain from both ends, than to attempt to hold it steady in a one ended support system. I also believes that this approach makes things far less complex, even for those who might not necessarily have the loftiest of ambitions. Of course there will be variants and this approach may not necessarily even be used in its extreme form most of the time. But without having full access to this state, a pianist simply does not know what true relaxation is- no matter how much they like to think they are "relaxed". If you have the ability to go into this state at will, it's absolutely fine to diverge from it whenever you wish, safe in the knowledge that you are able to return at any time- not just between notes but even while spinning out 16 constant notes per second. If you do not understand how to create this state (and cannot even perceive the verifiable fact that you are playing with constant unnecessary muscular tensions as a result) then you are limited in what you can do. In extreme cases, some pianists develop severely locked wrists and elbows- because they never create a state in which it is mechanically possible to relax them for more than a brief instant. In less extreme cases, the limits may not be so obvious. However, the inability to create a state where you can feasibly eliminate the need for those last traces of tension can make all the difference at the highest level.

I believe that having acquired the ability to employ this quality of balance whenever desired largely distinguishes between the 'talented' and those who merely scrape by. However, I don't want to give any impression that all other movements are specifically  "banned" or that there are no alternative possible routes to acquire this state other than the particular one I'll be illustrating (although I do believe that this is the most direct route to both understanding specifically what is needed for efficient movement and actually achieving it). This approach is designed to convey how to achieve low effort balance (when using even the greatest extremes of dynamics). It is not a restrictive method that preaches "x is correct and all other movements are banned", so please do not misunderstand it as such. This is a more case a of "make sure you have a proper foundation in  x" and use the benefits from that in whatever way you want.

  

Anyway, for any technique to be satisfactory, it must satisfy a number of requirements.The foundation level of technique must be versatile and applicable to all kinds of different instruments- be they unusually heavy or light in action. It must both permit accuracy at high speeds and consistent tonal control. A good technique must make it possible to execute passages where there is no time to go up and down with the arm on every note and when there is no time to always be willfully rotating the arm from note to note etc. I want to start with the ACTUAL quality of movement that can be utilised in such situations without resort to strain or pushing- not a roundabout system that may or may not gradually translate into stillness later on (with no explanation as to how). Obviously the starting point needs to be relatively low intensity and low speed- but I do not believe what goes into the movement should be notably different from what occurs within the final product. 

It's interesting to look at the pianists Art Tatum and Arcadi Volodos- both of whom possess unbelievable ability and achieve results with stupendous lack of visible effort. Here are a couple of examples (within the longer Volodos film, look at what is happening from around 4:30 onwards, in particular):

Proponents of the traditional 'arm weight' school would likely refer to the frequent relaxation movements with slow chords- including large drops and a tendency to let the hand collapse very loosely after landing. HOWEVER- what happens when they play faster? Both pianists are notable for just how little movement they use and for just how stable the fingers and wrist are able to remain. Look at Tatum at 30 seconds in! They only use large arm movements or collapse their hands at times when they CAN without ill effects and because they CHOOSE to- not because they are INCAPABLE of staying supported without discomfort! If they were told that they had to do a fast passage slower but with the same balance, do we really think that these geniuses would be left with buckling fingers? Or would they find their tendons becoming sore from the effort of having to balance each finger in a position of stability, without 'relaxing' it? Of course not! Sadly, amateurs often go so far as to deliberately relax the finger at the keybeds in ALL off their practise- without being capable of finding stability for even a few notes in a row. Typically they have never even attempted the means of low effort  stability, never mind mastered it. Unlike Volodos and Tatum, this leaves them with virtually no hope in hell of getting beyond a snail's pace without arms that bob around all over the place or collossal tensions to stop that.

To go beyond the speed wall all you need to do is to teach each finger to play a maintainable role in keeping the chain taut from one end, while gravity keeps it taut from the other end. The principle is really that simple (although mastering it to quite the degree of Tatum and Volodos is of course another matter altogether!).. The finger pulls itself into stable balance (moving the key as it does so) and the tautness of the chain keeps joints stable without other muscles having to do very much at all. The reaction forces are absorbed in this state by mass, whereas a "held" arm will tend to be pushed away- causing either bobbling or stiffening to resist that. When you maintain the chain there are very few variables and hence there's very little complexity. Volodos and Tatum don't just make it look easy when they run their fingers. What they do really IS inherently easier to do than what most find themselves attempting. It is less complex, it is easier to do with consistency, it is more efficient and it offers a much greater margin of error. In fact, it even makes it far easier to deal with nerves. A taut chain that has a point of real security between finger and key and is far more inclined to absorb a slight trembling- just the same as the reaction forces. Trying to "hold" the elbow and wrist still against shaking (rather than secure the chain at the finger end) can lead to absolute disaster. When a pianist has problems with nervousness, it makes as much sense to look at the inherent stability and potential for dampening within their mechanism as it does to explore psychology.

Tension/release methods do not work at high speeds because there is no time for controlled release into a stable position from which the next note can be controlled. Even at slow tempos, the approach ought to be looked at in a more objective light. The tendency to look at the release side is little more than spin doctoring. Piano technique is determined by possibility and demands objectivity. There is no place for stressing only good points of an approach but pushing inherent  negatives under the carpet. It's all very well to be selective when smearing/promoting a political party, but failure to look at the rounded whole contributes nothing to the understanding of piano technique. But "Why wouldn't you relax your fingers after the note has sounded?" some people say. Because the effort is actually very low (that is, once you know how to do it efficiently) and because relaxing it requires EVERY joint in the arm to be held in place with vastly more notable efforts! There is no "free" relaxation but merely an act of sending substantial requirements for efforts elsewhere- and all for the sake of relieving yourself of a tiny one (in a finger that can still relax freely at all times other than when it staying on the note). Remember the finger does not have to bear anything remotely like the whole arm's weight to maintain the chain! We are not talking about huge efforts.

"Then relax your finger" could equally be described as "and then introduce a need for muscular efforts to stabilise both your elbow and wrist against collapsing under gravity- rather than allow them to balance effortlessly as part of a fully supported chain that is suspended from two ends". This is not an opinion, remember, but a scientific fact based on irrefutable mechanical laws. Anyone who sincerely feels that they can relax both finger and arm at this point (without sliding off the keyboard) is simply not living in the real world. Okay, perhaps they are talking about comfort, when they talk of being relaxed. But will it still be comfortable if they attempt a Chopin study at lightning speed? Any fool can play a single piano key and then slip into a state of feeling comfortable. It takes a lot more sophistication than that, if you want to start rattling off a Chopin Etude, however. It's not enough to think, "okay I'm pretty comfortable now" after each note and assume that means you are using good technique. If you don't understand the state that permits speed and work on that accordingly in your slow work, you can be as comfortable as you like. But that doesn't mean you'll stay comfortable when you try to go faster. I'm not arguing that you should be uncomfortable, of course! But there is a specific state of maintained comfort which is productive, whereas others may not be. 

If the finger relaxes to the point where it cannot continue to maintain a chain in which the wrist and elbow are supported automatically, the only way to stop your whole arm sliding off the piano is to resist gravity with efforts around these points- efforts that will hinder the ability to absorb the reaction force with your next note, unless you let go of them again. At speed, the idea of this constant "on/off" necessity with the arm's muscles (supposedly to "protect" the fingers from the miniscule effort of maintaining the chain) is simply absurd. Some pianists may instinctively slip into the state of KEEPING the arm released in balance with the fingers when they go faster. But they are far more likely to do so if they have actually practised this sustained release in their slow work- compared to if they are relying on something as altogether different as the tension and release approach. More likely is that those of the tension/release school will end keeping the state of effort in the arm and not the release- after all they never practice maintaining a fully free arm. It's hard for them to learn a thing about how the arm and finger are associated within the balance that permits a free arm- because they are constantly seeking to depart from this state, rather than teaching themselves to make it sustainable. They spend all their slow practice training themselves how to be forced to hold the elbow and wrist in place- not how to use ongoing (but low effort) finger activities to enable true release. Okay, in some cases exaggerated arm movements may be used when the finger relaxes, to avoid the necessity of holding stiffly in the arm. But this provides equally little experience of keeping the arm still yet free- so it's still extremely likely that the arm will have to lock up when attempting high speeds. If you are intent on running away from the very interaction that permits release in the elbow and wrist, hoping to keep them loose at speeds where there is no time for exaggerated movements is little more than wishful thinking.

Also, it has often been stated that it's far better to source all energy from the arm's gravity. Typically, it's claimed that the fingers only "transmit" energy from further up. This is possible, if the arm descends, yes. However, I'd like to illustrate that it is verifiably impossible for gravity to be the energy source for rapid finger work. Alan Fraser has stated that the arm cannot provide energy without going up and down, but I'd like to go a little further to illustrate the scientific reasons why this is indeed accurate (but also why you must not forget the force that gravity DOES provide) .

Gravity is not a source of free energy. You cannot get anything out of it if you have not put something in. It's like an elastic band. You can stretch it back to put energy into it and let go to release the energy into movement. But you can't just hope to magically fire it a second time without putting more energy in. First you have to do the work of stretching it again. When something goes up, it acquires gravitational potential energy- via the work you do against gravity. When it goes down that energy is transferred. If it doesn't go down, however, it has provided no energy- (unless energy has somehow been created, as in the impossibility of a perpetual motion machine) . The idea of gravity providing the main energy for rapid passagework is pure metaphor- unless the arm goes down on EVERY note (which, of course, it doesn't). I'll clarify later what a vital role it does play in a balance of forces (and why I personally feel that Alan Fraser goes too far in seeking to underplay this very real and important role), but it simply cannot input the main energy that moves the keys. This is why I'll be starting from the finger's actions- just NOT taking it out of the context of the rest of the arm, as in 'finger isolation'!

Finger isolation is a generally used term for a manner of playing that is widely associated with injury. When Tatum glides over the keyboard at 30 seconds into that clip, nothing but his fingers seem to be moving at all. So is that 'finger isolation'? Is that bad? I think the term really needs to be explored further, as it is tremendously open to confusion. This confusion has sadly led some people to believe that the some of most indispensible actions of a healthy technique are supposedly too "dangerous"- sadly causing very real dangers in doing so.

If Tatum's manner of moving his fingers from such a relaxed but still arm is somehow too "dangerous" then playing the piano would have to be deemed too dangerous in itself. The real danger is when people try to copy such finger based approaches without understanding what generates the stillness. As mentioned before, the problem for most players is the reaction force that the keyboard returns to every finger motion. Tatum knew how to keep his arms still by ABSORBING the force. He was a true of master of maintaining the relation between fingers and arm in a balanced chain- leaving his fingers free to do such amazing things without his balanced arm being repelled. He uses his weight perfectly- not to "fall" into the keys or generate the energy that moves them but simply to absorb the reaction forces and hence maintain easy stillness.

When you try to only the move the finger into the key, separately from the arm, you cannot do so. The reaction force pulls at the whole arm as much as the key. So if you are intent on keeping the arm still you are likely to stiffen it (as if it were held in space by a vice) and force it still. That is most certainly NOT something that ought to be described as "finger isolation"! That is a case of dealing with the consequences of the finger's action in a stiff, unhealthy way by adding efforts all over the place.  It's the stiff arm that makes it unhealthy- not "finger isolation". However, the sheer vagueness in virtually all talk of the finger and arm acting together has caused as many problems. People start pushing or dropping onto every note with the whole arm instead of using the finger. This requires a complex chain of forces with countless variables that are very hard to control. Free joints become a hindrance to energy transmission- so (without exceedingly sensitive control) they tend to have to be stiffened into place. And as already mentioned, this quality of up/down movement of the arm creates a speed wall- unless the fingers start actually getting involved properly.  

What Tatum and Volodos really do for their finger work neither requires a stiff arm nor does it require complex application of arm pressure. They simply pull the keys with their fingers in a setup where a free arm can absorb the consequences, thanks to the existence of its weight. In a way this indeed is a sort of "finger isolation"- just not as usually understood. The arm's role is extremely passive and there is very little complexity in what it does to absorb reaction forces. That is why they make it look so easy. The arm's role (for rapid passage work, at least) is little more than to exist without fixation- not to do anything remotely elaborate via the muscles. It has nothing to do with the "finger isolation" that is typically spoken of- where fingers bang heavily against keybeds in a way that impacts back into a stiff arm. But neither is it a case of the arm having to find an elaborate means of trying to succeed in transmitting energy from high up (via a complex chain of joints). 

Despite all the warnings we tend to hear today of how injurious finger isolation is and how much more important the arm is, the fact remains that there is no credible way of doing what Volodos and Tatum can do, without the fingers being the primary energy source. This is why I'm going to start by looking directly at the REAL relationship between finger and arm- not the scientifically implausible metaphor of either gravity or the upper arm as the power source for all. Later, I'll also talk about more complex variants, including active arm pressures- which are of course valuable in the right situation. But firstly, you need to understand how to both move and support comfortably from the fingers- without any tension in either the wrist or the elbow. The whole arm plays a role in this style of movement, but its role is that of keeping the large chain taut with minimum effort- not that of trying to force energy through either a limp, inactive hand or a stiffened one!

Improving movement by understanding duality of forces, plus issues of momentum

Before I come on to the second part of the post about feeling movements within one plane, in this post I'm going to illustrate how qualities of movement can be informed and better understood with regard to some very basic scientific principles. Firstly, I'd like to talk about the idea of equal and opposite reactions- with regard to acquiring a dual perspective from which to better perceive movement, rather than the one-sided view that typically evolves. I believe that this concept can be a tremendous aid to building efficiency and comfort in movement in general. Although this post will read more as an introduction to a global concept of movement (rather than contain anything immediately specific to piano playing), bear in mind that the principle will recur in a number of especially specific descriptions of the end product.  

"Every action has an equal and opposite reaction", is the slightly simplified version of Newton's law that is usually quoted. As an example, by jumping in the air a person displaces not only themself, but also the planet. There's no need to be alarmed, however. Being rather substantial in mass, the planet is affected really rather slightly (its acceleration being equal to the small force divided by the planet's huge mass). So there's no immediate need to fear that the earth might begin spiraling rapidly into the sun, should too many people take up aerobics. In fact, it's also true that when falling back down, a person's gravity draws the earth faintly towards them- basically cancelling out the effect of the jump. Anyway, forces occur in opposite pairs- which is why a gun recoils backwards upon firing, when a bullet is propelled forwards. While, in everyday life, we think of opposites as being incompatible and mutually exclusive, in mechanics opposites are part of a single logical reality. The sheer significance of this (where opposites are actually perfectly compatible, as viewed within a whole) should hopefully become increasingly clear as I continue. But basically:

Opposite explanations are not necessarily contradictory!

In virtually all movements, our natural instinct is to focus on only one side of the picture. In many cases some people might choose one of the possible perspectives and some may choose the other. However, there are countless cases where virtually everybody is guaranteed to look at one particular side of the equation, while completely overlooking the other. I'll talk more in future about how moving a finger into a key really ought to be felt equally in terms of the finger pulling at the arm (otherwise we end up stiffening, in a futile bid to stop the inevitable fact that the arm as a whole receives a force, not just the key). For now I want to show how the attempt to appreciate both "action" and "reaction" can make general movement a lot more efficient and free. 

Let's start with something as basic as walking or running. With each push off, you need to ask yourself- am I focussing on trying to use my foot to pull my body forwards across the ground, or am I trying to propel the ground backwards and behind me? Do I focus on the action or the reaction? This image shows the angle of the force, at the end of a stride. 

The force can be analysed in two components within different axes, as described in my previous post (strictly speaking a small element of force runs into a third axis- but this should be of very low significance, compared to the very large components within the backward/forward axis and the upwards/downwards axis). The action is backward from the runner's perspective (to the left from ours) and downwards. The reaction is forward from the runner's perspective (to the right from ours) and upwards. When thinking about these, we might usefully concentrate solely on the forwards/backwards aspects or the upwards/downwards aspects for a time. If we look at each axis separately for a while, it can make it easier to develop that particular element. Then we can start thinking more about the action or reaction as a whole, once again.

Let's start with the backwards/forwards forces first. It really does not matter whether you typically perceive it more from the backward action or the forward reaction. The goal is simply to acquire a balanced perception- so now try the one you are not used to. If that feels like it's a bigger effort, that's fine at first. Switch back to your normal one for a time, but then switch again. Keep switching over between the backward and forward perspectives- trying to notice as acutely as possible what feels different between the two. Both versions ought to become progressively informed by something about the quality of the other. It should feel more and more effortless until you get to the point where, upon switching, there is scarcely any difference to be found in the quality of either. After all, they are supposed to be viewpoints of the same thing- not two different things! Action and reaction BOTH occur, regardless of which you focus on! Hopefully you are now left with a product that is based on a more integrated dual understanding of forces rather than single-sided thinking. However, that might perhaps be a little ambitious, after having only just started to think this way! Most likely, there will already have been improvement to the ease, but it can be a gradual process of development. 

Now let's try it for the up and down, as you walk. Most people will probably think more of the down here. Obviously, your foot naturally exerts a pressure down into the ground. But what if you walk by looking more at the upward nature of the reaction, rather than the action? If you feel how your whole body is lifted over the top (rather than dwell on the downward action at the foot), the whole thing may feel like less effort at once. But again, switch back and forth between the up and down feels. There's not a right way and a wrong way. We want to integrate both elements for a single understanding. Sometimes feel how your foot has to press down into the ground. This will likely feel like more effort. So simply switch to the upward feel for a while. It likely tends to make you feel less digging in, even though that upward force occurs because of the down force. See if you can capture more of that ease when you return to the active perception of the down element. Again, keep alternating until the two (previously conflicting) mindsets converge to the point of causing almost no differences at all.

Arguably this is at least of much an issue of psychology as one of mechanics- although the relation to the nature of forces means that it has foundations in something that is very much real. Psychological as the process of improvement may be, it is constructed around a clear-cut  rational foundation. I believe that this is a lot stronger and a lot more conducive to sustainable improvements than purer psychological strategies such as a mere "remember to relax more" etc. The psychological aspects are focused around a verifiable mechanical factor that can serve to guide the process. It is very different from wishful thinking that exists in a complete vacuum (not that I wish to write off the power of positive thinking outright, by any means).

This kind of dualistic thinking is something that I will come back to in various situations. I believe that one of the big problems in piano teaching has always been polarisation i.e. forcing it to A or B rather than a combination of A and B. Some teachers boldly proclaim the absolute truth of one side whereas others shout as loudly about the other one. However, it's very much down to the student's individual needs as to which side they might draw the most benefit from, with regard to the two-sided reality. What aids one student, might provide an active hindrance to another. In theory, if a lot more movements could be understood from dual perspectives, teachers might be in a position to solve problems with far greater consistency- regardless of which side the student might have strayed on. Although it runs a little deeper than the nature of action and reaction, in a future post I'll be going on to illustrate why the arm-weight approach and the finger based approach are basically polarisations of something that ought to be understood from a similarly dualistic perspective.

Anyway, I also need to introduce the idea of momentum, with regard to to movement. It's well established in the field of resistance training that it tends to be better if you are careful to move relatively slowly. This trains the muscles in a much more rounded way and makes errors in technique far less likely. There can be benefits from more explosive movements, but these are to be done with caution- especially if you are hoping to build sensitivity as well as strength. Anyone who's ever been to a gym will doubtless have seen the type of young, enthusiastic would-be Hercules who likes to illustrate his masculinity by attempting stacks that are far heavier than he is comfortable with. Rather than controlled movements, you see explosive actions that rely on a big initial force- rather than a consistent interaction between the muscles and the resistance. Often, much of the impetus doesn't even come from the muscles that the action is intended to train.

Scientifically speaking, this type of movement relates to the concept of momentum. I'm certainly not seeking to specifically compare piano playing to bench pressing 100kg, say. However, I'd like to illustrate how the difference between such qualities of movement has considerable relevance to both understanding the best ways to achieve control over a piano and to be able to move healthily whilst doing so. According to Newton, an object that is in motion continues to move at constant velocity, unless a resultant force acts upon it. So, if you apply enough force to something, it continues to move for a time, whether you continue pushing it or not. However, if you move something very gradually, you have to exert a more continuous force, in order to keep it moving.  When an object does not already have a large momentum, its motion is dependent upon ongoing forces- for such forces as friction would otherwise have caused a rapid stop. Conversely, a briefly large force might allow something to travel a similar overall distance, without further input of any driving force at all, necessarily. Basically think of the difference between moving around a supermarket trolley, while constantly feeling a small push- compared to if you give it a good old kick and then let it continue on its own steam, until it drops into the canal (don't really do that, obviously). 

(At this point, pure physicists may want to complain that all hammer motions are dependent on momentum- after the hammer is let free from the key. However, regardless of that, the difference between the qualities of movement is very much an issue regarding the fine detail of what happens when the key hits the key bed- in terms of how impact is absorbed and in terms of the balance that follows. When rolling out as many as 16 notes per second, the quality of balance that goes on before, during and after each note is far from a trivial issue. I believe that there is extremely good cause to understand the difference between an initially rapid impetus followed by coasting, compared with a more consistently applied force. The belief that such qualities of movement are a mere psychological illusion is tremendously open to dispute- although I do wish to acknowledge that such beliefs exists, for the sake of accuracy)

To introduce the difference between momentum based movements and more steadily controlled ones, I'd like to refer to a very useful exercise that can be performed away from the piano. In addition to providing a first hand feel for the sheer difference between such qualities of motion, it also happens to be a very good way of better sensing the upper body. Awareness will automatically be raised of many muscles that contribute greatly to the ability to balance at the shoulder (which, when trained to become more sensitive, are less likely to become heavily fixed).

Anyway, this is a very standard exercise- basically that of the press-up. However, we're going to do a very low effort version against the wall and with a very particular type of focus. It doesn't demand any great strength, but rather attention to balance. Standard press-ups against the floor are frequently done with a lot of initial momentum that serves to quickly 'bounce' the body upwards. The return to the ground often follows on as a near free-fall collapse back down- often without so much as a pause at the top. The problem with this is that it works certain muscles rather heavily and others scarcely at all. There is very little room for discrimination as to what goes into it. Severely lopsided training can easily ensue, where one half of the body operates extremely differently to the other. Even if you have the strength to do a large number of repetitions in the bouncing manner, there is reasonable question as to whether some of the relevant muscles are necessarily getting ANY training or contributing anything to the action whatsoever. If you simply move slower (looking out for any jerks, collapses or jolts), many muscles must get involved with the continuation of motion and contribute to balance. However, this can be surprisingly demanding. A standard press up is very difficult to do both slowly and with perfect form. That's why we're just going use the wall for this.

To do the "press-up", stand a couple of feet away from the wall and lean against it, with the hands at shoulder width. Obviously be careful not to strain yourself and stop if you feel any pain or excess stretching (although, seeing as it's nothing more than an enormously easier version of something so standard as a press-up, this barely seems to call for much of a legal disclaimer). Anyway, lean your body in and then control it back and forth in similar form to a regular press-up- trying to keep a single straight line from the toes right up the whole of the body. Try not to bend your back at all. So, how does that feel? Easy to do it ultra slow, with no holes in the movement?

You may well find that, while it's easy to do it fairly quickly or with the odd stop/start in the movement, it's really rather hard to do it slowly and consistently.  If so, this is where the idea of dual perception makes a reappearance. However, if you didn't end up in a position where you were clearly doing it too quickly and with too much momentum, I'd advise you not to try anything in the next paragraph before you've checked the one after. 

In this case, I believe that most people will typically have thought of the away movement in terms of the "reaction" force that generates the motion away from the wall, not the inward "action" that continues towards the wall (notice how this is actually the reverse compared to walking- where I believe that most people will tend to dig down too much into the "action", rather than concentrate on lifting themselves up via the "reaction"). So, as you go away from the wall, in order to improve you're going to want to focus on how you are still leaning into it, rather than too much on the away movement. As you go inwards, you're also going to want to feel how the wall is pushing you away still. This reversal of perspective helps to cure the excessive reliance on momentum, and enables far clearer perception of the stabilising muscles that enable a slow movement to be executed smoothly.

Basically, in order to change your perception you're probably going to want to think of the forces in terms of the opposite direction to that in which you are moving in. However, at this point it would be all too easy to slip into careless polarisation! So, I have to emphasise that not everyone will necessarily be the same. Was excessive momentum actually the problem? If not, you might have looking at totally the wrong solution! Remember that we have to look at both sides- not merely one or the other. If you found that you were actually digging in too heavily (which some may have done), we need to reverse the whole thing! Anyone going with a feeling that resembles ancient machinery grinding together needs to lighten the action.As they go away from the wall, they need to stop thinking of leaning inwards and think away from the wall. As they go into the wall, they need to feel gravity is allowed to ease them inwards- rather than be in a position of resisting it quite so much. Remember though, regardless of the initial fault you still need to switch back and forth from time to time though. Otherwise, the individual cure might just leave you doing it wrong on the other side- instead of converging on what you actually want. Both perspectives are valuable. Neither is inherently more correct or incorrect- except with regard to the current nature of the issue (note that 'current' is a key word).

I hope that this helps to establish some issues of movement with some clarity as well as the danger of polarised one-size-fits-all thinking. Although none of this post is specific to the piano whatsoever, I hope that people will have considered taking the time to think about it. I believe that this is a major issue in terms of what we ought to be understanding, when trying to make corrections to movements. By understanding that superficially opposed mindsets can be one-sided descriptions of a single whole, you can converge on (the seeming contradiction of ) being able to view it from BOTH sides at once! One-sided thinking may be important in the short term, in order to progress closer to the correction. However, two-way understanding is always the end goal. Do we want the person who went too quick to start digging in? Do we want the person who was digging in to start bouncing up and then collapsing in? After a certain point, sometimes you basically have to go back to WHAT HAD BEEN THE PROBLEM!!! If I'd started with that, if might well have sounded pretty ridiculous. But I hope that what I've written will have established the sheer danger that lies within sticking to just one view of a two-sided whole. Looking at just half of the picture without ever referencing it back to the other is rarely wise.

Introduction

Although countless books have been written on piano technique, what deeply puzzles me is the seeming absence of any books that specifically derive practical advice from the wide implications of the most fundamental laws of mechanics. Before I put anyone off from reading any further, I should stress a few things at once: Firstly, none of the following articles will be about learning a "mechanical" piano technique- rather the stress is always going to be on PRACTICAL piano technique (by which I mean one that results in physical ease but which also opens the door to greater extremes of sound and orchestration). The reason I am writing this is because I have found the implications of basic mechanics to be spectacularly effective at both translating into better movement and into better sound. This is not an academic exercise but an attempt to improve the understanding of what needs to actually be perceived, in order to find the easiest path towards formulating quality of movement. Frankly, the pure scientific issues themselves don't greatly interest me- UNLESS they specifically lead to a means of making improvements. Of course, sometimes thinking about something that might have seemed totally abstract can suddenly reveal an unexpectedly useful implication. However, on here I do not intend to even mention anything that I have not already drawn a very notable practical consequence from. You'll find applications supported by theory, not theory for its own sake.

Also, I will go out of my way to keep the actual physics as simple as possible. You won't find me detailing pointless calculations that involve estimated coefficients of friction, or using trigonometry to calculate the specific force in Newtons that a particular muscle might have to apply. I'm looking at broad issues with significant implications, not number-crunching. In fact, I claim no background in especially advanced mechanics myself (although I have previously studied mechanics as part of both maths and physics A levels). What I have found notable when thinking these issues through is just how overwhelmingly simple it is to put BASIC mechanical laws into the context of piano playing.

Above all, what has astonished me is just how practically beneficial the implications are, with regard to attaining ease and efficiency of movement. I've discovered that much of what I had been doing (over many prior years had been wasted on playing the piano really rather poorly indeed) is comparable to having tried to find an 'instinctive' feel for playing poker- without having actually learned all of the rules first. When it comes to movement, the laws of mechanics are (literally) the rules. Of course, you need to develop a 'feel' to play either poker or the piano to a remotely high standard. But surely we ought to START by learning the rules and their most standard consequences? After all, no mechanical rules can be broken.You can only seem to break them. Looking at certain inescapable facts has allowed me to do things which, for many years, I thought really were impossible. But clearly that's because I simply didn't properly understand the rules. It's theoretically possible for a person to push the limits of a set of rules further than anyone else and it's possible to make them work for you. But if this doesn't evolve by instinct, the best thing you can do is stop hoping to 'transcend' anything with wishful thinking and start understanding the sheer possibility that exists within the limits of the rules.

These days there are countless books on technique that are tremendously informed by research into the make-up of the human body. While this is certainly be to applauded, why have authors not put the same level of research into the most basic laws of the universe? What's the point in skipping so far ahead as to start learning the names of individual muscles and bones- if you do not yet understand the overwhelming implications of Newton's 2nd law?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction

How can it be that this never even seems to get a mention? It cannot be overstated how much of problem this is, if not dealt with (especially at the moment when the key lands against the key bed in FFF playing). Why do so many people seem to fight against the piano with so much effort? The simple answer is because of irrefutable Newtonian physics. Above all, it is because they do not know how to deal with the forces that the piano sends back at them. Flowery metaphors are often used and relaxation is always stressed (often with little more than short term benefits), but HOW do you move in a way that will absorb this force, mechanically speaking? Many authors have floundered around the issue in overwhelmingly vague terms, but what makes it rationally POSSIBLE to do it, specifically speaking? To be able to relax away from the piano is very different to knowing how to relax in the face of the return force. Here's a film of myself playing a few years ago, before I started making any changes to my technique.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2vAsriTZE8&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

You'll see that, when it rises from the keys, my wrist often relaxes to the extent that my hand sags down like that of a limp-wristed drama queen. So why couldn't I relax my wrist properly in the big chords, if it was so busy relaxing (to a dysfunctional excess) elsewhere? Not because I didn't know how to relax but because the mechanical basis to my movements made it IMPOSSIBLE to both apply a large force and keep it more relaxed. I didn't want to be stuck unable to play louder than mf for life, so rather than reduce the returned force by playing lighter, I put up with uncomfortable tensions and impact. There was simply no alternative (that I knew at the time), unless I wanted to reduce the range of my intentions- which would hardly have been much better.

Technique does not come merely from good use of the body. Neither does it come from understanding mechanical laws. It comes from good use of the body in the context of mechanical laws. They cannot be separated or you can be certain that there will be gaps in the understanding and probably even areas where beliefs contain outright factual accuracies. To cure seizures (or preferably find a better way from the first time you ever play), you have to understand the force that makes you resort to them. Okay, a small number of great pianists learned this by 'feel' alone and have no idea how they do it- but they are in a real minority compared to those who succeeded in never getting anywhere by 'feel'. If it doesn't take you there, you need to stop doing and start understanding how to deal with the returned forces. It's time to forget the negative of the idea that you have to attempt to stop seizing up and start working on the positive of what leads you to a position of being ABLE to absorb forces, rather than fight them.

Later on, I hope to show how a number of changes in the understanding can rather easily stop people battling against the forces that the piano returns to you- and how you can even build up to applying huge forces (if desired) in a manner that permits even the largest rreaction forces to be absorbed with really very little effort whatsoever. You won't hear me coming out with any vague nonsense along the lines of "treat the piano like you're trying to sooth a newborn puppy" or "imagine you're making tender love to a blow-up doll" or whatever such poetic nothingness is usually resorted to. I'll show you how to stop fighting against a force and how to let it simply dissipate into your whole arm. Once you know HOW to absorb the reaction force in the first place, who knows? Maybe such images will even become surprisingly useful?  

Although I will try to make the scientific aspects easy enough to understand, anyone reading can feel free to skip to the practical implications and the various exercises for movements and perceptions that will be included, if they prefer. It's technically quite possible for the how to be useful, even if you don't have the patience to follow the explanation as to why. However, I include the 'workings' for a couple of reasons. Firstly, some of the implications might sound rather counter-intuitive. I'm not going to ask anyone to put their blind faith in some random bloke on the internet- so I want to give a clear proof, say, that movement A might be a definably inefficient means of producing tone and that it leaves certain muscles with no choice but to lock up. Equally, I'm not asking for blind faith in why movement B, say, might both be more efficient at transferring energy and more conducive to comfortable shock absorption. Also- while I've put a lot of thought into all of this and feel very confident of both the purer explanations and the practical implications, I want everything to be accountable. If anyone with a background in physics should disagree with any of what I write, I'd very much like to know. I'm interested above all in trying to advance understanding, so I'd actually be deeply grateful if anyone wants to pick me up, on anything that they might dispute, or let me know if they feel I've overlooked an important factor.

Coming back to the practical side though, a lot of movements can look identical on the outside, but be drastically different in the inner workings. By understanding the underlying mechanical principles that LEAD to the possibility of efficiency, you are much more likely to succeed than if you try to copy what you see on the outside.

As an example, later on I'll illustrate the difference between two types of finger action that look almost identical to the eye. Both have uses (Horowitz certainly used extreme forms of both), but one risks landing the keys with more impact. The other uses very strong actions and easily absorbs the reaction force. While most great pianists know how to use the latter to the full, I'll explain how a simple flaw in the mindset leaves few pianists able to exploit it. Again, the ability to differentiate between these two different qualities of movement (unless already acquired by lucky instincts) comes from knowing both the rules of mechanics and the implications of them. Rational understanding is only destructive to the instincts when it is based upon inaccurate understanding or incomplete understanding. In such cases, unguided instincts may even be better than the results that stem from a misconstrued rationale. However, the problem is that all humans make observations. There are many generalised observations and commonly held beliefs that are totally inaccurate. As I'll illustrate in my first detailed post, the path in which a finger frequently needs to activate can seem very odd, compared to what you would immediately imagine. When superficial assumptions are corrected by greater understanding of context in mechanical laws, it's far easier to reprogramme your understanding of movement.

At some point I'll explain why many people still grossly misunderstand the interaction between gravity and the body- dwelling too much on the fact that, in isolation, gravity is a perfectly downward force (but forgetting how many levers it interacts with and ignoring how this totally redirects the force). Frequently pianists end up working their muscles too hard- while erroneously believing that gravity is the source of the downward force.

Look at this film from 20 seconds in onwards:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwY-pDnmSiE

Gravity!!! That's as clear a thrust as you could imagine! Certainly not 'free fall'- which is TOTAL relaxation, by definition! What exactly is going on with all of these inaccurate explanations and paradoxes? While the Taubmann approach has many positives, it tries to be scientific but then comes out with a wealth of jumbled self-contradictory premises. If it's simply a metaphor to aid the sensation, then better to declare that! If it's supposed to be scientific, then lets remove this contradiction about doing a "free fall" without relaxing- whatever that's supposed to mean. Maybe not relaxing refers to the way she visibly presses so hard into the keybed after the supposed "fall" or maybe it refers to the thrust that so clearly occurs instead of an actual fall? Who knows? Either way, the way she digs in for the example looks very unhealthy to me and the explanation is utterly ambiguous. If I'd paid the few hundred pounds they charge for those tapes, I'd have been pretty unimpressed. Despite some of the positives about the approach, there's really a lot of room for improvement, in the attempt to explain things(not to mention the demonstration of how to bang your arm so stiffly into an octave).

Anyway, later on I'll give a few exercises that make it easy to perceive for yourself the direction of the force that gravity REALLY transmits to your arm (as a clue, it's rarely anywhere near being exactly downward in its effects). Ironically, when misunderstood, aspects of gravity can be one of the biggest hindrances to transmitting a downward force through the key. I'll show how properly understanding the resultant effect of gravity on a body can improve its use, as well as how it's also possible to improve action in the hand, by exploiting gravity as a balancing counter-force (often with no visible dropping at all) rather than as a power source.

There is not merely a single correct way to move. But there is an absolute truth in the laws that determine what is possible. Some ways of moving provide seemingly limitless possibility. Others provide very few possibilities, due to inescapable physics. While there are many alternatives that function just fine with regard to mechanical law (even if sometimes unusual to look at), some things are simply at odds with it. You have to be careful to differentiate between valid individual solutions (of which there can be many) and things which are inherently flawed. Sometimes saying "this is just my own way of playing" basically amounts to putting yourself in a strait-jacket. It's important to be willing to rethink things- unless you're happy to stick with the level you are already at, of course.

PS. In many ways the approach of this is likely to be rather similar to that of Alan Fraser, author of the "Craft of piano playing". I am extremely grateful to him for forcing me to rethink so many things about piano technique and for revealing a number of specific physical issues. Many aspects of what I shall be writing will have been inspired rather directly as an off-shoot from his principles about function. I will do my best to avoid inadvertently plagiarising anything, although I should certainly acknowledge how much of the foundations are owed to his work. Some of this is likely to involve slightly different descriptions of rather closely related movements. Even when the ideas have nothing directly in common whatsoever (and even in the few areas where I actually disagree rather violently with his explanation!), I should give him all due credit for inspiring the ongoing thought processes and experiments which will have led to them. Although many of the original premises here will stem more greatly from the starting point of mechanics, the process of integrating the implications into actual body movements is greatly inspired by his approach. Although I will be aiming to be even more rigorously scientific about certain issues (and also tend to place a little less trust in the subconscious- vital as it is for many things) this is very much intended to complement and work in tandem with the Craft of Piano playing approach.