Listening to Myself 

From left to right: Four performances of the third movement of the Beethoven, Sonata No. 23 in F minor Op. 57 " https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnqP6a9YDf0&list=RDxnqP6a9YDf0&start_radio=1 ", iii. Allegro ma non troppo:  Claudio Arrau; Daniel Barenboim; Glenn Gould; Lang Lang 

Today, I would like to talk about the importance of why listening to myself as I play is important for  me as a performer. 

In speaking with Mr. Alexander, he once said that a singer does not hear himself the same way  an audience does. This was interesting to me, because for a singer they are their own instrument. For a pianist however, the feedback is immediate in terms of the sound from the piano. 

My goal in performance is to always maintain an objective viewpoint, which means that I want to convey to the audience, as much and as best I can, what the music is saying to my mind and  heart. To achieve this, while it is important to sit at the piano and play, checking the sound from  the player's perspective, it is also crucial to consider the perspective of the audience. Therefore, I  always try to listen to the sound produced by the piano, and my own initial response of the sound,  to see if it accurately reflects my own feeling about the work being performed. 

Having an objective focus while being fully engaged in the performance is challenging, but for me  it is both helpful and necessary. I want an audience to have a sense of what the music means to  me, and in order to make that happen I want to always make sure I have found the center story  of a piece and why I find it inspiring. My goal then becomes to meet the audience where they are by sharing what is most essential about a work, because at that core, there is something  universal—and very human—that has the capacity to make the piece as powerful and meaningful to an audience as it is to me.

For every pianist, once they have found that core, the way in which they respond to it and then  share it will be different, in the same way that ten people looking at the same painting will notice  different aspects of it based on their own perspective. 

We don’t all laugh at the same jokes, and yet we all laugh. We don’t all like the same foods, and  yet we all need to eat. We don’t all go to bed at the same time as everyone else, and yet we all  sleep. 

I listen to myself then not to make you feel the same things that I feel, but to help you discover  aspects of a piece that I find meaningful so that you can then hear what might make it meaningful  for you. 

In order to best illustrate this point, in this post I have included four different performances of the  third movement of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 23 in F minor Op. 57, the “Appassionata”. Notice how  even though each pianist is playing the same work, what each of them emphasizes is very  different. 

Please let me know in the Comments which performance you relate to the most, and why.  Thanks so much.

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On Being a Good Listener