Recently I came across Dieter Rams’ Ten Principles To Good Design, and I was astounded by how precisely they apply also to the interpretation of piano music. All we need to do is replace the word “design” by “piano interpretation”, and “product” by “piece”.
Good piano interpretation makes a piece understandable. Maybe it is just me, but I do believe this is the first and foremost requirement to interpretation of any kind. Many composers were extremely skilled in preserving their ideas and concepts in an astonishingly revealing text, and no pianist should venture to play a piece in public before he has made sense of every little detail in the text. And developing one’s own complete understanding is just one step; the other one is to find ways to convey this understanding to the audience. The difficulty of the latter can hardly be overestimated; after one studied a piece for months or years, one has to present it to people who possibly hear it for the first time. Are we sure we are really aware of every turn in the music which, however natural to ourselves meanwhile, might come as a surprise to first-time, or little-accustomed, listeners and therefore needs to be made perfectly clear by a conscientious interpretation? (And by the way: “Developing an understanding” does not just mean listening to some famous pianists’ recordings or relying on advice from renowned teachers, no matter how useful both may be.)
Good piano interpretation is thorough, down to the last detail. Well, basically we just discussed that; but it does bear repetition. And do not forget to practise, even that last tiny little note every other pianist keeps neglecting.
Good piano interpretation is aesthetic. Seems fairly obvious. I might add, however, that aesthetics in interpretation (based on the pianist’s musicality and taste) is by no means sufficient in itself; it is quite well possible to play a piece most beautifully, but to fail to bring out essential qualities or statements of the music at the same time. None of the great composers was content with beauty alone; a piano masterpiece has more to it than just nice sounds.
Good piano interpretation is unobtrusive. Another important statement. One might wish that more pianists would see their challenge in presenting a certain piano piece, rather than in displaying their pianistic abilities or interpretative imagination. (And, pianists, do you not worry about your personal share of fame: The more you advance towards that seemingly altruistic end, the more admiration you yourself will justly gain. If you strive to bring out the composers’ qualities fully, trust them to bring out the best of you, too.)
Good piano interpretation is as little interpretation as possible. Again, pianists, trust the composers and their pieces. Should you do too little, the music will still be there and have a chance to explain itself. If you do too much, however, the composers’ statements will at best be unhappily obscured; in worst case, the music will not be recognisable anymore. Do I really have to name those examples of interpretations distorting a piece beyond recognition by excessive, but misguided, rubato?
Good piano interpretation is honest. Dieter Rams wanted industrial design not to make any promises the product would not fulfill. Maybe there is no obvious translation of this principle to the field of piano music interpretation, but it might well remind us that we should take care to apply appropriate means in their place and not present the composers for what they are not. Not every pianist resists the temptation to colour Mozart lines in subtle Chopin-like tones or to weave Ravelian sounds from Chopin passage work.
Good piano interpretation is long-lasting. Obviously it is. The playing of the great pianists has always been in some way or another indebted to the traditions and habits of their time, and nevertheless their interpretations will remain valid. Yes, Paderewski’s Beethoven is deeply romantic and not ours anymore, and Backhaus’ or Haskil’s playing is typical mid-20th century in its overly cool denial of any sort of pathos; but yet we will find ourselves gratefully and admiringly returning to these recordings again and again.
Good piano interpretation is innovative. This seems not only obvious but also something really not to be worried about at all. No two human beings are the same, feel the same, or think the same; any artist gifted with a sufficient degree of imagination, when seeking to develop a thorough understanding of a piano work, will naturally end up with his own personal, and therefore innovative, solutions. (Unfortunately, the reverse is not true; artists just seeking to be innovative do not necessarily achieve any sensible result.)
(The remaining two of Rams’ principles do not naturally translate into statements about interpretation of music. Obviously, “Good design is environmentally friendly” does not help us at all, but I also did not want to discuss “Good design makes a product useful”. One could think of many ways in which a piano piece might be useful, but I prefer to stick to the oldfashioned belief that art has its purpose in itself.)
Good piano interpretation makes a piece understandable. Maybe it is just me, but I do believe this is the first and foremost requirement to interpretation of any kind. Many composers were extremely skilled in preserving their ideas and concepts in an astonishingly revealing text, and no pianist should venture to play a piece in public before he has made sense of every little detail in the text. And developing one’s own complete understanding is just one step; the other one is to find ways to convey this understanding to the audience. The difficulty of the latter can hardly be overestimated; after one studied a piece for months or years, one has to present it to people who possibly hear it for the first time. Are we sure we are really aware of every turn in the music which, however natural to ourselves meanwhile, might come as a surprise to first-time, or little-accustomed, listeners and therefore needs to be made perfectly clear by a conscientious interpretation? (And by the way: “Developing an understanding” does not just mean listening to some famous pianists’ recordings or relying on advice from renowned teachers, no matter how useful both may be.)
Good piano interpretation is thorough, down to the last detail. Well, basically we just discussed that; but it does bear repetition. And do not forget to practise, even that last tiny little note every other pianist keeps neglecting.
Good piano interpretation is aesthetic. Seems fairly obvious. I might add, however, that aesthetics in interpretation (based on the pianist’s musicality and taste) is by no means sufficient in itself; it is quite well possible to play a piece most beautifully, but to fail to bring out essential qualities or statements of the music at the same time. None of the great composers was content with beauty alone; a piano masterpiece has more to it than just nice sounds.
Good piano interpretation is unobtrusive. Another important statement. One might wish that more pianists would see their challenge in presenting a certain piano piece, rather than in displaying their pianistic abilities or interpretative imagination. (And, pianists, do you not worry about your personal share of fame: The more you advance towards that seemingly altruistic end, the more admiration you yourself will justly gain. If you strive to bring out the composers’ qualities fully, trust them to bring out the best of you, too.)
Good piano interpretation is as little interpretation as possible. Again, pianists, trust the composers and their pieces. Should you do too little, the music will still be there and have a chance to explain itself. If you do too much, however, the composers’ statements will at best be unhappily obscured; in worst case, the music will not be recognisable anymore. Do I really have to name those examples of interpretations distorting a piece beyond recognition by excessive, but misguided, rubato?
Good piano interpretation is honest. Dieter Rams wanted industrial design not to make any promises the product would not fulfill. Maybe there is no obvious translation of this principle to the field of piano music interpretation, but it might well remind us that we should take care to apply appropriate means in their place and not present the composers for what they are not. Not every pianist resists the temptation to colour Mozart lines in subtle Chopin-like tones or to weave Ravelian sounds from Chopin passage work.
Good piano interpretation is long-lasting. Obviously it is. The playing of the great pianists has always been in some way or another indebted to the traditions and habits of their time, and nevertheless their interpretations will remain valid. Yes, Paderewski’s Beethoven is deeply romantic and not ours anymore, and Backhaus’ or Haskil’s playing is typical mid-20th century in its overly cool denial of any sort of pathos; but yet we will find ourselves gratefully and admiringly returning to these recordings again and again.
Good piano interpretation is innovative. This seems not only obvious but also something really not to be worried about at all. No two human beings are the same, feel the same, or think the same; any artist gifted with a sufficient degree of imagination, when seeking to develop a thorough understanding of a piano work, will naturally end up with his own personal, and therefore innovative, solutions. (Unfortunately, the reverse is not true; artists just seeking to be innovative do not necessarily achieve any sensible result.)
(The remaining two of Rams’ principles do not naturally translate into statements about interpretation of music. Obviously, “Good design is environmentally friendly” does not help us at all, but I also did not want to discuss “Good design makes a product useful”. One could think of many ways in which a piano piece might be useful, but I prefer to stick to the oldfashioned belief that art has its purpose in itself.)
