Don’t let ‘them’ put you off!
I’ve recently been playing Haydn’s D major cello concerto, a piece that is full of virtuoso demands – but equally full of jokes. In fact, I’d say that it may lay claim to be (along with the 2nd movement of Beethoven’s G minor sonata, and the scherzo of the Prokofiev sonata – oh, and first movement of Schumann’s Stucke im Volkston) the funniest major piece in the standard cello repertoire. But when I’ve taught it, I’ve often been struck by how little the cellists playing it have been enjoying it. Yes, it is difficult, but it’s by no means the ONLY difficult piece in the repertoire; so I ‘ve always wondered why it seems to produce more long faces from cellists than any other work. Recently, I asked a young player why this was, and he explained that it was because it’s such a standard orchestral audition piece. Cellists feel that they have to try to play it accurately – and in a way that will not sound too individual. (I’m only focussing on the Haydn because, being a cellist, that’s the piece in which I’ve come across this negative phenomenon most often; but I’m quite sure, of course, that every orchestral instrument has its own equivalent bogey piece, or pieces.)
If that’s true – and I’m sure that it is – it is SUCH a pity. Haydn wrote the concerto in order to delight people, to give them pleasure; and the pressures of conforming to some mythical norm has ruined it all for the cellists who play it – and therefore for their listeners too. Why should Haydn, and you the player, be so impoverished? The young cellist told me that too much individuality is thought to be bad for auditions. I can see that eccentric rhythmic sense or sound production might not be viewed favourably if one’s auditioning to join a section which has to function as a single unit. But is it bad to enjoy the music? That I find hard to believe. Surely, bringing out the charm of the piece one is playing CANNOT be viewed as a negative trait. And another important aspect is that if one approaches a piece with the idea that it is difficult, and that one mustn’t miss anything, then it indeed becomes difficult. If one approaches it in a spirit of enjoyment, listening to the phrases rather than to the individual notes, the difficulties, even if they don’t evaporate completely, lessen considerably. For instance: if one thinks of the difficult arpeggios in the development of the first movement as sturm und drang emotional outbursts rather than as merely difficult arpeggios, they suddenly become easier. (And if you’re less focussed on the notes you may miss, the people listening to you will also be less aware of them.)
So I’d say that for auditions, competitions, etc – OK, perhaps don’t parade your eccentricity; but don’t become a joyless, inhibited winning-machine. Music is too important for that – and so, I’m sure, are you.
