by Dr. Ludmila Lazar
hat if I told you that all music is related to the life experience
of movement and speech? This is how I experience it, and when I
use this approach in my teaching, the students also experience it. This
helps them understand the content and meaning of the music they are playing
and how to communicate it.
My earliest experiences with rhythm were so large a part of my childhood that they permeated my life; to this day, rhythm remains the focal point of my musical perception and my teaching. I grew up in southeastern Europe, in Slovenia, where many cultures meet and where both Western and Eastern thoughts and arts live side by side. As a child, I remember the local chiming tradition - a variety of rhythmic peals where several bells are sounded by directly striking the clapper against the bell wall. This was a group performance of folk artists, and most commonly all the bells were struck by hand. Here is one of the many patterns (nearly 750 of these are actually recorded) called the Evening Bell. Notice that the time begins with an upbeat, and that it is an example of irregular meter.
To hear a short performance using these bell patterns, click below:
443k, 16-bit WAV sound file
The sound is taken from an
LP. Source: Slovene Music: A Selection of Original Recordings of Folk Music.
Department of Ethnomusicology of the Institute of Slovene Ethnology Scientific
Research Center of the Slovene Academy of Sciences and Arts
This photograph of Tamburitzans is courtesy of Duquesne University Tamburitzans Program, 1989-1990. | |
 |
I recall my grandmother singing and dancing with me in her arms; dancing was often combined with singing. Also, the folk dance patterns themselves often told a story. |
This photograph of musicians
who travel cross-country on foot is taken from a series of Slovenian postcards.
The artist is Maksim Gaspari.
Walking and hiking (still a national pastime) taught me to
keep up with others, to linger behind, to catch up, to keep in step, to
feel it when out of step - often in silence but just as often accompanied
by singing, rather than talking - all creating a rhythm. Cross-country walking
was encouraged in the physical education classes that met several times
a week, as were games and gymnastic exercises. Everyone took part in these
exercises; one had to remember the different patterns, coordinate and synchronize
the movements, execute them flowingly and gracefully, and develop an "ensemble"
to keep time together without artificial devices - the beats were rooted
within us, as they were when we danced.
I recall the rides in the horse buggy, the sound and the rhythm of the horse's hooves, the driver's rhythmic calls and control of the speed, sensing how the speed would increase, slow down, or hold steady. And in the winter, the sleigh replaced the buggy, creating yet another rhythmic pattern.
Story-telling and oral tradition were still very much alive when I was growing up; to recite a poem vividly and expressively deserved high praise. By the time I was in elementary school it seemed only natural to memorize a poem or present an oral book report.
Music and singing were required subjects. For several years I belonged to a school folklore dance group, learning a variety of dances from different parts of the country including those with uneven, non-divisible rhythmic structures such as:
To see a short video clip
of some of these dances, courtesy of the PIRIN Folk Ensemble, 1990, click
below:
1100k, QuickTime movie file
If you have a slow modem or just wish to hear the music, go ahead and LISTEN
to these dances:
235k, 8-bit WAV sound file
By the time I began formal music studies, the rhythmic awareness built into my body was brought into music-making naturally. I realize now that my instrumental and theory teachers taught from the context of my earlier experiences with rhythm. My piano teacher did not explicitly draw parallels from those experiences, but she did make use of the imagery that created rhythmic and melodic associations, for she herself was not only a fine pianist but also a church organist and played the recorder beautifully. During the summer, when I was invited to stay in her home, I would accompany her at the piano while she played the recorder - which I accomplished mostly by listening to her and feeling the energy, the tempo, and the nuances of her performance. As I progressed through different stages of musical development, my teachers (including my much admired teacher, Rudolph Ganz, whose instruction was many-faceted) encouraged an early recognition of gesture, character, and mood emanating from rhythmic structures. In addition to being a marvelous pianist, Ganz was also a fine 'cellist, conductor, and composer. An avid mountaineer and nature enthusiast, he was also very knowledgeable and appreciative of all the arts, and a witty raconteur.
It is this great variety of rhythmic experience that has left a lasting impression on my own rhythmic perception and teaching, rather that any single approach to rhythmic realization.