My Technical Dilemmas

When I was a kid, I didn't worry so much about how to play the piano--I just practiced to get the sound I wanted. It's funny, because now, after 4 years of university music school and 3/4 of my masters degree now completed, I feel much more confused about "how to play" and "which way to play." I believe it has to do with seeing more pianists around me at college, working with concert pianists, and, of course, watching performances on youtube more recently. I think the best way for me to talk about the different techniques I have in mind is to call them by the pianists from whom I took them. When I entered college, I had never really seen GREAT pianists play up close, so my technique was formed solely on sound and feeling-- I simply tried to sound like the CD's I listened to. How I wish it stayed this way and that I never got caught up in analyzing the visual movements! So my first big technical transformation, for better or worse, was when I played for Earl Wild. I started out trying so hard to play my best for him, and sure enough I made a favorable impression on him by the way he responded. But then, as he started to criticize and suggest things, I realized that in order to do what he was asking for, I had to try LESS, not more. As soon as I would stop trying, he would say "There you go, that's it." This was really strange for me, as I was used to having to work for the beautiful sound. Of course, this "relaxed approach" worked for a while, and I started imitating his technique, but sooner or later, everything I did became vapid--too effortless, without life, and perfunctory. I wondered why Mr. Wild could toss things off and sound interesting, whereas I could not. I didn't realize it at the time, but I got carried away, and started valuing the physical approach in itself, losing sight of the music. I was more or less doing an impression of Earl Wild, rather than really playing the composer. The next school year, I played for Ilana Vered, an amazing Israeli pianist who had a huge career but is not as well known today. Though I had gone through many phases in between meeting Wild and Vered, at the time of meeting the latter my playing was still heavily steeped in my experience with the former. And sure enough, Ms. Vered represented for me a complete reversal--I started trying really hard again, and I suddenly had a "good" kind of tension that I had lost. When she demonstrated it was so passionate, so alive, and very fiery--and I immediately felt like "this is it." Nevertheless, months later, I found that playing "her" way (or what I took from her way) made me less confident, because I started keeping my fingers much more curved and articulated, I was moving my body more, and playing this "way" was just more difficult....but it seemed worth the extra difficulty, because it Felt more profound, more artistic, and I felt like I was really putting "everything into in"--so it felt morally right in a musical way. This feeling of "putting all I have into it" is very important for me, so that's why it's been hard for me to really stick with effortless flatter finger techniques, despite the improvement they give to my facility. Anyway, I played this way (the "Vered" way) in my first big international competition in 2005, and though I made a good impression from my discussion with the judges, I was eliminated. So, automatically I felt unsure about whether my technical approach was the "Right way". Especially because I saw other people play who passed, and they seemed to just toss of a lot of stuff, which made me think that I was making things unnecessarily difficult for myself. After that I saw a video of Horowitz playing for the first time, and then I swore that the "effortless" way was the right way... I should follow what Earl Wild showed me, but incorporate the Horowitzian tension as well to achieve depth. Anyway, there were many pianists after this that I saw, and proceeded to analyze their techniques and adopt them as my own as best I could. Indeed, playing the piano BECAME the activity of being the pianist I had in my mind, and it would dictate the feeling, the interpretation, the musical thinking. When I was absorbed in Argerich's playing, I had both an aural and tactile sense in my head-- even if I never heard her play it, I would imagine how she would play it, and see how her hands would move in my head, and then I would follow. The same goes for many others--and so I became able to see their hands in my own to an extent, and figure out how to move the way they do. I should consider the upside--that I did learn a lot from this obsession, and I'm sure I know more now then I used to about how to get different sounds. But I've now gone so far into this, that I've forgotten myself. I don't really know how I play-- the real me! And when I ask the question to myself, especially before I play in a competition or an audition, I get really flustered, and I'm convinced that my lack of success in competitions has a great deal to do with the fact that I am very unsure about which technique to use. The last competition I did was in October 2008, and I swear I changed "techniques" like twice the week before I played, and even the day before, I was still deciding in my head how I wanted to play. AHHH!!! When I ask myself how I want to play, I find I have to answer it by comparing to another--do I want to be a sweat and blood type virtuoso, or the more effortless type? Do I want to have the classicism of the germanic tradition, or a more russian approach? I mean, these are valid questions depending on the composer one is playing, but still it plagues me more than other people from what I see. I think the thing is I am good at mimicking other people, and so I actually have many different interpretations, all potentially good, but I can't stick to one, because I don't know which one is "me." I.e. I can't tell if my interpretation playing like Argerich comes out better than when I play like Evgeny Kissin. The funny thing is people who have seen don't know--- this is really the invisible thinking on the inside. To them, it's me either way. Not to mention I never really talk about this problem because it has been impossible to discuss with my teacher, let alone with anyone else. But it is a real problem for me-- because am now 23 and I want to start doing a lot more competitions, so I want to feel a little more sure about my technical "way." I know technique is a process etc., but when you watch those people on You tube from the 2005 Chopin Competition, most of them feel pretty sure about what they are doing. I suppose the ultimate question for me is how to put everything I have into a performance without getting too tight and losing control. I love playing slow music and putting all my feeling possible into it--striving to create the most beautiful thing I am capable of, but I find that this intention starts to make me hunch over the keyboard a lot, and my fingers are much more curled. In this way, I feel like I can deliver the profundity I want in the slow pieces, but as soon as it gets fast, I am not so confident and I make too many mistakes for playing at the professional level. When I resolved to get all the Chopin etudes learned over the summer, I immediately realized the benefits of flatter fingers--it was so much easier to play. This insight came from watching, of course, pianists on Youtube, as well as a pianist from Curtis during the Kosciuzsko competition, in which I also participated unsuccessfully. I saw him play and everything was pretty flat- the whole time-- even in Mozart, and yet it sounded good. I thought-- why do I suffer playing with curved fingers, when I can just do that, play cleanly without all that physical constipation, and pass to the next round. Somehow the competition puts it into perspective, and I see it shouldn't be so hard-- just sit and play, no big deal. I think-- why can't I do that? I know I can, because I have done it on my own, but some mental block forbids me from really letting loose in competitions. While my technique is so much better with the more relaxed hand--I was quickly able to play Op. 10 No. 2 fast---I felt like I had sacrificed something-- that I was not "giving" it all I have, and so I wasn't my best. In addition, I would sometimes test myself by playing with more curved fingers, only to find my technique was just as good- so then I felt much more confused about what was the way for me to go. Furthermore, I would play something slow with this "relaxed" way and it just wouldn't sound good, and I knew I wasn't putting my soul into it. And so, I would go back to the difficult way, getting the spirit I wanted, but now putting in the work to get my fingers to navigate the passages while staying curved. And then I would lose the next competition, and swear to play more effortlessly the next time.... it's an endless circle. Because I attach these "ways" to personalities, I have trouble finding the middle ground. I would have to see that at this point-- my internal technical struggle is between two opposite approaches (for me they feel opposite)-- and the pianists that best represent this descriptively would be Argerich on the one hand, and Pogorelich on the other. I think this shows the dichotomy I am talking about between the flatter vs. more curved finger articulation, the simpler vs. more complex-looking finger activity, the effortless vs. more strained (though pogo tries to make it as easy as possible for himself). (funny thing, both pianists are similar in some aspects of their music making). So, while on one hand I want to really get into the piano and mold the keyboard to squeeze out the most beautiful sound possible, I don't want to have to strain so much to play music like Chopin Op. 10 No. 1, which I know feels much easier when I play it in my "Argerich" way. (But maybe the "pogo" way is worth the extra difficulty). When I see the two pianists, Argerich and Pogo, and I hear them play Chopin Prelude No. 16--it turns out that I like Argerich better, so is it really worth the strain to practice the notes with curved fingers as Pogo probably does? On the one hand, it seems unnecessary, but then, when the slower stuff comes, I find I want to feel more involved, meaning my hands start to do things more like Pogo. (Please remember it's more nuanced than this, it's not just black and white, but I'm trying to keep it simple for the sake of discussion). All in all, I see all these pianists playing, and my struggle to "figure it out" is motivated by my desire to attain as close to note perfect as I can without sacrificing my interpretation, my imagination. Trouble is, my imagination is richer and more activated when I play with more effort--my best interpretive ideas usually come with the "put everything into it" approach...but sure enough I get too tense and I mess up sooner or later. When I play effortlessly, my mind becomes more effortless too, and my interpretation sags. I struggle to think more artistically when I feel I am not physically putting myself into it---there is a mind-body connection that was learned over the years for me-- in order for me to be sensing the sound fully, I think I need to feel as if I am putting physical effort into it. Unless I can learn to reconcile this with my discoveries about having better technique with more relaxed fingers, I will always be confused about "which way" to play. As you can see, the debate is endless, and really is becoming a problematic hang up for me. I cannot stick to one thing for good, and I end up changing weekly, or even daily-- almost always during my lessons, in fact. It is consuming, because it is taking away from my ability to become a self-confident musician--and all I want is to be done with this and "get on with it". I have lost too many competitions and auditions because of this technical obsession with other pianists, and the funny thing is that all along I have always had good technique!--it really ought not to be such a problem in my head when I think about it. So it seems absurd to ask you, considering you've never seen me play, but what would you say I should do to get cleared up on this matter? I feel like I probably travelled down the wrong road with no answer, and should just turn my mind to other things. I wish I could be more concise, so here are some of the questions I could say in particular I would like to hear some responses to: 1. Is it possible that I am just a more "effort-ful" type of musician (ex. Evgeny Kissin type vs. Earl Wild) considering this feels more "morally right" when I am playing really deep music? Or do I have to struggle to train myself to be "into it" even though I am relaxed? Is the answer for me really going to lie in the so-called "middle-ground"? 2. If I am actually hitting upon a big controversy in technique regarding different schools of playing, is it simply an arbitrary choice for me over which "way" to play? Should I just resolve to practice both ways and spend the rest of my pianistic career as a multi-personality, switching on a whim? I.e. Is there really no definite answer- just a subjective choice? The funny thing is I kind of know inside that it is silly to adhere completely to one method like an "argerich" method or whatever, and so I obviously need to learn to blend everything I have learned into my own all-encompassing system. One needs to "have it all" to really achieve greatness in performance, so I ought to practice all these different ways and figure out what works best. Sounds good. BUT---different "ways" work better each day, so it is impossible to pin down one way as the "best". Furthermore, as soon as I choose one way, i end up exaggerating it, and then I need to balance it by going towards the opposite direction....so all of my "ways" seem to revolve around some mystical "middle ground" that I never have attained for more than a day at a time. I know the answer is -- sometimes we need to put in effort, and sometimes relax, and sometimes curve the fingers and sometimes flatten them.... but somehow in practice I always get stuck on these same old questions. I think it has to do with me wanting to have a single "personality" throughout the performance, rather than mish-moshing techniques, so I try to find one system to stick to. While it seems evident that Gould thought a lot about his own technique is his journal notes, it seems safe to say that when great musicians are performing, their minds are on musical ideas more than physical motions (or maybe a mysterious automatic combination of both?). Considering that my technique has been improving all in all, should I try my best to just forget about the analysis and try to go back to when I was a kid, when I was not looking at other people play? In conclusion, I think this long-winded essay gives an idea of my internal struggle with technique-- and believe me, it really is consuming. It wracks my brain, and I just can never get my mind off it, and you tube is probably the worst thing for keeping my mind on pianistic things, rather than on a wider range of intellectual pursuits that will enrich my musicianship far more than going over the same technical stuff. The worst is that my "suffering" over the technique doesn't show in my playing in competitions because I never really achieve any final solutions; it takes away from my confidence, so the endless thought I give to the matter seems like a waste of time. I think I would use my time much better if I finally got my mind off of this obsession somehow. Please let me know if you have any ideas for how to conquer the technical quagmire that I have been in for the last five years of my life. I would enjoy hearing some outside opinions, and to really put this problem into a fresh perspective. Thanks for reading, and now, if you'll excuse me I need to go watch youtube-- just kidding.

Wow, interesting post! The thing that strikes me is that you're defining effortful and effortless playing into two distinct categories, in relation to the music. Do you have to use effort to get exciting results? Kissin certainly uses plenty of effort, but I've never much enjoyed the results. There is an energy and enthusiam, but I find the sound-production highly objectionable (and I'd imagine that he must be due for arthritis, if he carries on hitting the keys with such tension). Conversely Nyiregyhazi used virtually zero visible physical movement on some of his biggest sounds, but produced sounds bigger (and more emotionally powerful) sounds than Kissin could ever dream of (despite the fact that he hadn't been practising for about 40 years). Look for the clip that I uploaded of him on youtube. I have another film where you can't detect ANY movement from his shoulder on some of the biggest sounds. I have never heard a wilder pianist, in terms of the sounds produced, however. Similarly Volodos uses virtually zero visible effort. Sometimes I do find the sound a bit too shallow (his Scriabin sonata no 10 really didn't work for me) but he produces staggeringly big sounds without forcing anything. His Prokofiev 2nd was one of the most staggering concerts I have heard in person. There was plenty of musical tension, but did it really look 'difficult', in the way Kissin's manner of attacking the keys looks 'difficult'? Not at all (and I find it far more exciting than Kissin's constant percusiveness). Isn't it the case that you simply need to find a way of combining the two? Do you record yourself, with these different approaches and compare the results? Do they actually sound as you think they did, at the time?

The funny thing is I kind of know inside that it is silly to adhere completely to one method like an "argerich" method or whatever, and so I obviously need to learn to blend everything I have learned into my own all-encompassing system. One needs to "have it all" to really achieve greatness in performance, so I ought to practice all these different ways and figure out what works best. Sounds good. BUT---different "ways" work better each day, so it is impossible to pin down one way as the "best". Furthermore, as soon as I choose one way, i end up exaggerating it, and then I need to balance it by going towards the opposite direction....so all of my "ways" seem to revolve around some mystical "middle ground" that I never have attained for more than a day at a time. I know the answer is -- sometimes we need to put in effort, and sometimes relax, and sometimes curve the fingers and sometimes flatten them.... but somehow in practice I always get stuck on these same old questions. I think it has to do with me wanting to have a single "personality" throughout the performance, rather than mish-moshing techniques, so I try to find one system to stick to. While it seems evident that Gould thought a lot about his own technique is his journal notes, it seems safe to say that when great musicians are performing, their minds are on musical ideas more than physical motions (or maybe a mysterious automatic combination of both?). Considering that my technique has been improving all in all, should I try my best to just forget about the analysis and try to go back to when I was a kid, when I was not looking at other people play? Dear "esc" What an amazing post. THANK YOU! When I saw its length my first reaction was, "Oh God, another long-winded rant about something stupid, but as I read on, I realized that you are describing a CENTRAL PROBLEM SO WELL! GREAT! OK, now for my thoughts. I actually think I have an answer for you; there's a simple perceptive trick you can do to get everything to fall into place: you have to In other words, keep the physically easy physical technique, but bring the "intensity" to your LISTENING. You are not orchestrating enough. You are not using your ears to demand ever more colour out of the instrument. Let me describe some of my own recent experiences that tie in with this, first going back in time somewhat. Parts of your post remind me of a colleague of mine, Natasha Dukan, who was a fellow student of Kemal in Novi Sad, one of our group of Knights of the Round Table in that pianistic Camelot. She is a great pianist, full of Russian Soul, Expression, Passion, AND Musical Understanding. She always played with quite bit of effort - it was in the School she had been trained in (her first teacher had gone through Moscow Conservatory). In the mid 90's Natasha went to Peabody where she studied with Julian Martin who is now at Juilliard. He had her lighten up, and she continually complained that she felt her playing was empty, she no longer felt any emotional connection to what she was doing. I remember visiting her in Baltimore and asking her to show me what she meant - she put on a CD of a recent performance of the Papandopoulo Toccata that blew me away - it was BLISTERING, amazing sound and intensity! You see, she had no objectivity. She was playing great, but it wasn't familiar to her so she couldn't appreciate it. And she COULDN'T HEAR HERSELF. She really didn't know how great it was. Strange: her own inner physical experience took precedence over her experience of the sound her instrument produced. Fast forward to Miami, December 2008, the Steinway Gallery, Horowitz's piano. Kemal and I have been discussing how Horowitz actually didn't play loud but created the illusion of loudness by careful terracing of his dynamics. We sit at that piano and find out just how true it was. Never has it been more evident that "less is more" than on that piano. If you use normal effort, you get normal sound. When you reduce effort, but touch the piano in an incredibly precise way, the gold and silver start to flow. But it is NOT JUST RELAXING. It is extremely difficult to get that sound and requires so much focused attention that after an hour's rehearsal on the piano, Kemal felt more exhausted than if he had played four complete recitals in a row. And after playing ONE complete recital on the instrument, he felt like he was going to die - it was a strange, new type of exhaustion that came from LISTENING and managing the incredible possibilities of the instrument. You have to be hyper-intense in your PRESENCE, but all the while REDUCING your physical effort to virtually nothing. It is highly paradoxical! Do you begin to see what I mean by changing the domain of your intensity? Anyway, I thank you for a profound post and please do let me know if these thoughts of mine have been of any help - let's keep the discussion going. AFF PS I write elsewhere on this forum about Pogorelich's failed understanding of Arm Weight technique which is one of the reasons he is playing worse and worse as time goes on - I think the posts are in the Piano Master Discussion Group section... That's all for now, I gotta go back to YouTube too!!! PPS Having just reread "cziffra's" post, I think I basically said the same as him with different words...

You see, she had no objectivity. She was playing great, but it wasn't familiar to her so she couldn't appreciate it. And she COULDN'T HEAR HERSELF. She really didn't know how great it was. Strange: her own inner physical experience took precedence over her experience of the sound her instrument produced. I have a theory about this: I think there is a direct relationship between knowing how to shape phrases/create other emotional effects and having an "emotional experience" when playing certain pieces. I think the "craftsman" musician who knows how to do these things and the "talented prodigy" type approach the situation differently: The craftsman thinks "If I hold onto this note a bit longer, this passage will sound very passionate" whereas the talent says "If I feel very passionate about this passage, I'll play it passionately" -- subconsciously the talent will do the same thing the craftsman did. The result is the same - and the affect on the audience is too. But to the musician, things have a very different feel internally. This might explain why, for example Horowitz or Gould might get nervous: Since they aren't busy being consumed by passion (Or whatever) in the back of their mind worry is setting in. This struck a chord with me .. I thought I could hear myself decently well, until I tried for the first time playing with my eyes closed. Suddenly I realized just how ignorant I had been on pedaling, and how I had been paying far too much attention to my hands flying around everywhere ..

And of course, a good tape recorder is a wonderful help in this - I still get my eyes (ears) opened big time by going back to taping myself... AFF

Esc's post is a fine description of the dilemmas on a profound level all artists are struggling with. In a sense playing music is like acting and I come to think of the wellknown Stanislavskymethod where acting is becoming the person you play by different techniques. In my adolescens I had a nice experience of perception. I thougt my playing sounded like Richter or Horowitz, when playing I felt the same emotions as while listening to these pianists I was so "spelled" by this so I couldn't hear how I sounded.(With a "Buddist" view that's probably also an illusion you will never hear exactly what another persons hears anyway). At the time I had lessons for a new teacher who told me to stop playing and start to learn "visualizing" the score more or less by using the Geisekingmethod.So after a few weeks (it's really mentally exhausting at the beginning) I tried out at the piano.That changed completely my perception and all those emotions connected with my earlier play were gone.The funny thing is that my teacher told my that NOW it sounded more like Richter and I to could hear that on the taperecorder. Somewhere in this forum I read that Alan in a studio connected to electrodes measuring muscletonus (I think) observed that tensions occured along with "insecurity". I then thought about my experience with visualizing (working like a conductor) and that this exhausting work eliminated a lot of insecurity, I really knew the score and got rid of lots of tensions which improved my sound and listening. Sorry about the length of this text. Eric

Your post was not too long at all, just the right length - very nice description. I have always admired the Leimer/Gieseking visualization methods of learning, although I am ashamed to say that I myself have not done as much of it as I should have. Glad to read that you did and it was worth it... Maybe when I finish writing my next book... Thanks for your description of the change in your sound and especially in your internal experience - a very valuable thing to share with us! AFF

Fast forward to Miami, December 2008, the Steinway Gallery, Horowitz's piano. Kemal and I have been discussing how Horowitz actually didn't play loud but created the illusion of loudness by careful terracing of his dynamics. I remember you talked about this on the blog, but unfortunately it's down for the moment - could you describe exactly how he did this ?

Fast forward to Miami, December 2008, the Steinway Gallery, Horowitz's piano. Kemal and I have been discussing how Horowitz actually didn't play loud but created the illusion of loudness by careful terracing of his dynamics. I remember you talked about this on the blog, but unfortunately it's down for the moment - could you describe exactly how he did this ? I've thought about the same thing myself a lot, since someone pointed the same thing out to me about Horowitz (particularly mentioning how quiet most of the 1968 Carmen recording is- aside from those few full-on explosions) about ten years ago. Have you heard the Liszt sonata from the 70s? You may or may not like the details, but you can hear staggeringly obvious differentiation in the D major Grandioso and central climax. He doesn't let the repetition of any chords get in the way of the resonant chorale. I wouldn't say he "didn't play loud" in this instance, but he sounds SO loud because he doesn't let the long notes get swamped. As I remember, Arrau makes a real load of noise with his repeated chords, in the same spot. I think the principle is that just after that which you want to resonate is the most important time to avoid volume. Personally, I believe that the very next note is usually the one that does the most to kill the sense of resonance. I believe that once a sound has been permitted to resonate properly, the human ear can often stay with it. However, put something in competition with it almost at once and the ear is probably drawn elsewhere- no matter how loud the first attack was! Getting to the next note quickly can also cause a problem (for this reason) even when playing very soft. Personally, I'm convinced that it's actually a good idea to fractionally delay the 2nd semiquaver after many of the melody note in op. 25. no. 12. The notes which are closest to the melody present the biggest danger of killing the sense of the sound opening out. Few pianists seem to get any real sense of cantabile in the main line (although David Edward Smith is absolutely superb on youtube). Most people just want to carry over the volume after a loud note, rather than allow the sound that has already occurred to bloom. Still, after a time, the resonance of a big sound will come down, regardless of how well you keep the accompaniment out of the way. As this happens, you can gradually use the accompaniment (the repeated chords, in the case of the Liszt) to swell through this point- giving the impression of that the first sound keeps going or even grows. Imagine a graph with a naturally diminishing curve for the big chord (as it fades). After this point everything else needs to brought down, INSTANTLY to avoid competing with that sound. The accompaniment would hence begin very softly. However, as the sound curve for the initial sound descends, the following sounds (which start very soft) gradually increase to compensate- until they eventually take over from the initial sound. There are all sorts of other permutations for the greater complexities that occur in reality, but personally I'd say that this is the basic principle behind what goes into both a lasting sound and well-layered dynamics. Too many modern players seem to think they are 'supporting' with their accompaniment when they are actually against it and limiting the possible range. This forces their melodies to become louder and louder- in order to break-through all the unnecessary sound. Projection in a hall isn't simply about volume, but about understanding how to eradicate the unnecessary tendencies that actually detract attention from longer sounds. Anyway, Alan may agree or disagree here! It IS possible to end up taking this principle too far, but I can scarcely think of a single pianist who I've heard make a consistently big 'hole' in their foundation of melody and bass with an insufficient filling of accompaniment (of course, I'm not suggesting that inner voices are never important though) However, pianists who consistently overload with it are two a penny. I've always found Brendel's G flat impromptu on youtube to be unlistenable. The quavers almost always take the attention from the top, almost instantly. I can just imagine how poorly it would probably seem to sing out in a big hall. I'm absolutely perplexed at the idea that there is anything remotely profound about that performance. I'd far sooner hear a more resonant melody, even it that should mean sacrificing some of the rhythmic consistency or clarity in the quavers.

I think the principle is that just after that which you want to resonate is the most important time to avoid volume. Personally, I believe that the very next note is usually the one that does the most to kill the sense of resonance. I believe that once a sound has been permitted to resonate properly, the human ear can often stay with it. However, put something in competition with it almost at once and the ear is probably drawn elsewhere- no matter how loud the first attack was! Too many modern players seem to think they are 'supporting' with their accompaniment when they are actually against it and limiting the possible range. This forces their melodies to become louder and louder- in order to break-through all the unnecessary sound. Projection in a hall isn't simply about volume, but about understanding how to eradicate the unnecessary tendencies that actually detract attention from longer sounds. Anyway, Alan may agree or disagree here! It IS possible to end up taking this principle too far, but I can scarcely think of a single pianist who I've heard make a consistently big 'hole' in their foundation of melody and bass with an insufficient filling of accompaniment (of course, I'm not suggesting that inner voices are never important though) However, pianists who consistently overload with it are two a penny. I've always found Brendel's G flat impromptu on youtube to be unlistenable. YES! YES! YES! I AGREE I AGREE I AGREE! Thank you, you said it beautifully! AFF PS I had a strange experience with that Liszt Sonata recording from the '70's - I always found it overly distorted, TOO extreme, even for me who loves extremes. But in the opening days of the NATO bombardment of Serbia, I was in my room, there was a blackout in force, the whole neighbourhood was eerily dark, the night air thick like velvet, a chemical edge of fear in the atmosphere. I put on that recording, and finally it made sense. It is agonized, yes, and mostly we cannot relate to it - but in that context it made perfect sense!