Bruce Berr has been an independent piano teacher for many years, and also served on the faculties of numerous institutions, including Washington University in St. Louis and Roosevelt University in Chicago where he was coordinator of piano pedagogy for fourteen years. His articles on music and piano teaching have appeared in the major keyboard journals, and he is currently associate editor for Keyboard Companion magazine. In 2007, he will be launching a new tri-annual column in American Music Teacher magazine.
As unlikely as it may seem, people like myself who enjoy tinkering with old radios have to deal with a phenomenon that is similar to one that we piano teachers confront. Before the appearance of computer-synthesized and controlled devices, even high priced communications equipment such as shortwave radios and ham radio transceivers gradually drifted “out of tune” as the years passed—their actual tuned frequencies started to vary significantly from their indicated ones, and they functioned less efficiently as a result (just as an out of tune acoustic musical instrument does). Theoretically, it was easy for a reasonably-informed radio hobbyist to remedy this. Inside each radio was a series of components, each with a set screw, that allowed you to adjust those frequencies back to where they belonged. One component controlled the highest frequencies of each band, and another controlled the lowest ones. However, what should have been easy was not at all. The reason: adjustments made on one end of the band affected the adjustments made on the other side! At first, it seemed as if there was no solution. There was an art to shimmying back and forth between the two ends, closely observing the results, and gradually tweaking the settings until both ends were simultaneously in tune. It was a mysterious process that required patience, flexibility, and persistence, and just as importantly, faith that the process would end in success. (Perhaps a new book in the making: Zen and the Art of Radio Maintenance?)
Christos Tsitsaros’ article reminded me of all of this, because rhythm, tempo, and technique also comprise a complex interdependent system. Helping students make changes in one area usually affects others, so guiding students’ playing to be “in tune” in all these areas is certainly an art and not a science. There seems to be a constant temptation for us to address individual aspects of students’ playing, rather than their interrelationship. Christos’ insightful discussion will inspire further thought as he shares his own observations and those of others from the piano pedagogy literature.
His perspective is unique in that he is not only a talented teacher and top-notch pianist, but also a gifted composer of art music at all levels. I first became aware of his creations in the early 1990s after he was one of the winners of the Composition Competition sponsored by the National Conference on Piano Pedagogy. I have since played and taught much of his music, and I admire it greatly. I find the emotional content to be satisfying, and its inventiveness, craftsmanship, and artistic integrity to be at the highest levels, regardless of how many or few notes there are on the page. My younger students have enjoyed his elementary and intermediate compositions, while at the university level, the high point of one of my piano major’s senior recital was a performance of Christos’ Autumn Sketches. I recently listened to his CD performance of Dramatic Variations after a Reading of Primo Levi's "Survival in Auschwitz" and was profoundly moved by the power and depth of his expressions.
As a supplement to this article, the KBC website (keyboardcompanion.com) offers sound clips of six of Christos’ compositions that reveal aspects of his approach to rhythm. He has provided a few brief comments on each piece. These comment appear at the end of this article.
If you are not yet familiar with his music, I urge you to become so. His is not just a musical mind but an intellectually probing one as well. I believe you will hear that combination in his music as clearly as you will perceive it in his article.
Rhythm, meter, and tempo are intertwined terms that are often misunderstood, but taking the time to clearly understand their meaning, interrelationship, and effect on performance can greatly aid a student’s development. Rhythm, the broadest of the three terms, refers to the time organization of music “by means of regularly recurring pulses or beats,” typically arranged in groups with multiples of two or three. Meter refers to the internal organization of these groups of pulses, while Tempo refers to the rate at which pulses proceed (Harvard, p. 423). The combination of long and short note values within each pulse, called the rhythmic pattern, forms the simplest aspect of rhythm, one that the listener can easily grasp.
In a broader sense, however, rhythm is a deeper notion that goes beyond proportions and note values and manifests itself in a rhythmic feeling. Heinrich Neuhaus compared rhythm to “such living phenomena as pulse, breathing, the waves of the sea, the swaying of the fields” (Neuhaus, p. 30). Bruno Walter described rhythmic feeling as a “spontaneous utterance of living energy…compelled instinctively by a higher, immediate, non-arithmetical insight into the rhythmical meaning of each group of notes” (Walter, pp. 50-51). Walter wrote that the true meaning of a composition cannot be recognized just by the mathematics of the notated rhythm—that instead rhythm must “spring from its affinity to the life of our body, our heart beating and breathing” (Walter, p. 48). While Walter acknowledged that rhythmic exactness was a useful pointer in the right direction and a protection against the grosser kinds of rhythmic mistakes, it is clear that there is more to a truly rhythmic performance than just getting the note values correct.
So how do the elements of rhythm and tempo interact, and how can we develop a true sense of rhythmic feeling in our students? This article will attempt to answer this question as well as some related questions such as:
The acquisition of a strong underlying pulse is undoubtedly a fundamental prerequisite of a rhythmic performance. The regular recurrence of the pulse sets the distances or units against which the rhythmic patterns are “fitted”; the relative evenness of the units is perceived as a steady tempo. Unless the shortening or lengthening of these time-distances occurs in a progressive and logical way, such as in a well-organized rubato, arbitrary abrupt distortions of the units (distances) result in an involuntary change of tempo. Such changes prevent both the performer and the listener from keeping the whole of the piece in view. Tobias Matthay in his Musical Interpretation stated that “there must always be continuity in the tempo if the course of the piece is to remain unbroken,” as changes of tempo make the listener “start afresh and readjust himself to the new tempo” (Matthay, p. 60).
An even, steady pulse can be cultivated in different ways, both at and away from the piano. Many teachers are familiar with music educational systems that incorporate the physical interpretation of metric pulses and rhythmic patterns, such as Dalcroze Eurhythmics or rhythmic solfége. Feeling the pulse in one’s body by encouraging young students to step to the beat, sway their hands in alteration, clap, jump, or even dance to a musical piece are all excellent ways of cultivating a strong inner rhythmic sense. More advanced students may also benefit from conducting pieces from beginning to end, as if they were performed by someone else. During piano lessons I recommend that students:
According to William Newman, counting the beats out loud while playing helps the student “feel both the pulse and pattern simultaneously” and “bring his rhythms to life” in a way that distinguishes him from pianists who play without rhythmic authority and therefore dully (Newman, pp. 84-85). Mentally counting the beat for an entire measure (pre-counting) is also an effective method of setting up the tempo before the beginning of a piece. The predominant tendency in a lot of students is to begin at an overly slow, timid pace and accelerate as the music progresses. Conversely, under certain conditions the opposite happens: students start at a tempo which is too fast to accommodate all the note-values. To avoid this, I find it useful to encourage students to clap the beat while imagining the rhythmic values not only of the opening but also of other sections within the piece, especially ones containing shorter note-values (faster notes). With experience, the student will hopefully be able to do the same exercise mentally and to briefly summon it prior to performance.
Opinions vary on the value and use of the metronome. Ruth Slenczynska, who always used it in her own practice, mentioned that it is “only a means to an end” and recommended using it “to good advantage but not become its prisoner” (Slenczynska, p. 32). Others are downright against it, like Josef Hofmann who advised never to play with metronome “for according to the metronome a really musical rhythm is unrhythmical” (Hofmann, p. 29). I find myself in the middle of these extremes. Working with a metronome can sometimes be useful, especially with students who have problems feeling the pulse or counting out loud while coordinating their hands and concentrating on the music. It can also promote the understanding of arithmetical relations, since the metronome automatically sets the time distances; this allows the student to mentally project how much time can be “budgeted” for each note. My first piano teacher used it as a tool to check my adherence to the initial tempo; she would have me begin a piece with the metronome, set it aside after a few measures and, in the process of playing, she would start it again to compare where my tempo was in relation to the initial one. Overall, I feel that the use of a metronome, being a mechanical device, should be limited to the initial stages of learning a piece. Students should be encouraged to rely more and more on their inner pulse and sense of rhythmic proportion.
Even students who do possess an innate strong rhythmic pulse are often subject to involuntarily tempo changes in the process of playing. Factors contributing to this range from arithmetical miscalculations to technical deficiencies, as well as psychological and physiological reasons. In certain cases, a strong inner pulse does not suffice to make the student understand the exact ratios between note-values. A schematic representation of time can help us visualize how those inaccuracies can negatively affect the tempo. Any excess shortening or lengthening of any of the syllables (parts) of the rhythmic pattern proportionately alters the time distances between pulses:
Although not giving enough time to the longer notes is a common problem with beginning students, the opposite happens frequently with more advanced students: giving an excess of time to the longer values and subtracting from the faster ones. Unless justified by a rhythmic convention, overly lengthening, say, a dotted eighth-note will cause a tempo deviation in the ensuing sixteenths.
Every teacher at one point or another may face a student who equates faster note values with a faster beat, and slower note values with a slower beat. Neuhaus attributed this to the student’s “inability to listen to the singing of the piano in faster motion” (Neuhaus, p. 45). Slow and even practicing is strongly recommended, but it becomes doubly effective when done in a musical way, “singing through” and carefully listening to all the notes, especially the shorter ones. At the same time teachers should be aware of the all-too-common interference of phrasing with the tempo: speeding up as the volume increases and slowing down as it decreases. Playing short note values deliberately and even imperceptibly broadening them in crescendos will effectively address this problem.
The singing aspect of playing is one of the key ingredients of sustaining the rhythm and maintaining a steady tempo. From Mikuli we learn that Chopin strove for a deep cantabile style and made his students practice scales as legato as possible, with metronomic evenness and regularity, lightly accenting them in groups of three or four (Eigeldinger, p. 34). His idea of intense legato stemmed from his belief that piano playing should draw its inspiration from vocal models. This was at the heart of his technical approach, which was based on the total suppleness and flexibility of the wrist and hand (Eigeldinger, pp. 15,17). From his teaching philosophy, we understand the relation between tone and time—a singing tone and solid articulation of the notes are at the root of a sustained tempo. To achieve this, students need to develop the necessary technical means, most importantly the physical flexibility without which legato is impossible.
Rhythmic problems and inaccuracies appear more acutely when students attempt late-intermediate to advanced literature which incorporates broad intervals, extended arpeggios, skips, chords, and changes of position. Frequently, the student feels unable to keep up with position changes, particularly when they occur in faster tempos; a feeling of weakness sets in, and as a result certain notes (especially in extended passages) are played weakly or “swallowed up” all together. It is no wonder that the student will speed up as the time units become progressively shorter, and the physical balance between muscular relaxation and tension is lost. Clearly the problem in such cases does not necessarily lie in a lack of inner pulse but in the student’s technical deficiencies.
In the following excerpts, the stability of the tempo depends on the continuity of the legato and the proper articulation of all the notes, especially those played by fingers 3, 4, and 5.
Practicing very slowly and loudly will not necessarily resolve the rhythmic and technical problems inherent in this etude. The feeling of finger strength relates to the flexible preparation of new positions and correct arm alignment. Therefore, I propose the following methods of practicing:
Supplementing contemporary piano methods with standard literature that contains many position changes will adequately prepare the student for the challenges found in more advanced literature. Late-elementary and intermediate etudes by Duvernoy, Bertini, Heller, and Moszkowski, as well as early-level works by Bach, Clementi, and Mozart wonderfully lend themselves for this purpose. The systematic study of scales and arpeggios is equally beneficial.
In his Art of Piano Playing, George Kochevitsky approached the problem of tempo stability from a purely physiological angle and attributes tendencies to accelerate the tempo and uneven timing to weak inhibition. He maintained that the excitatory process (manifesting itself in a discharge of impulses when a stimulus creates excitation) is formed much more quickly and easily, whereas inhibition (the process that suppresses superfluous and harmful excitation) needs to be cultivated and strengthened through slow and even practicing, as well as making stops or retarding before beats. This is because the disturbance of balance manifests itself most often in rushing toward the strong beat (Kochevitsky, pp. 25-26).
Ed. note: Over the years, I have found “stopping practice” and “ritard practice” to be powerful in helping students develop their “brakes” and thus hold in check their excitation. Additionally, I have seen firsthand that excessive metronome use at any tempo tends to block the development of such inhibition, so this is yet another reason for metronome use to be carefully monitored and limited by teachers.
In what ways can a performance become truly and vitally rhythmic? Walter suggested that the accenting of a certain note (called “thesis”) followed by the concomitant subordination of ensuing ones (“arsis”), is the basic element for forming the impression of rhythmic unity. As an indispensable means for making rhythmic sense, Walter also pointed to the staccato. “The rhythmic life of music, then, consists in the alternation of long and short, heavy and light, tenuto and staccato, and the rhythmic task of the executant lies in the appropriate gradation of these elements and their accordance with the melodic-harmonic content of the musical phrases” (Walter, p. 47).
In following excerpt, the combination of accents and various degrees of staccato and tenuto articulation will bring to life the rhythmical vibrancy and vitality of the musical phrases.
The student who lacks in inner pulse or who is shy in temperament will benefit from studying rhythmically vibrant pieces such as dances and ragtimes. They demonstrate better than any other genre the influence of rhythm into the realm of the physical. They are more likely to elicit a stronger inner rhythmic response, the accents in the music forming the basis of dancing steps that can be visualized or simulated during the lesson.
The judicious use of rubato or “stolen” time has existed in virtually all musical periods as a means of enhancing the rhythmic feeling and highlighting important harmonic and melodic events within a musical composition. Although the subject goes beyond the scope of this article, I will touch upon two important points concerning rubato and its relation to rhythm. First, we need to realize that rubato is a type of tempo nuance in the form of an acceleration followed by deceleration, or vice versa. As such, it should in no way affect the arithmetic (proportional) relations within the rhythmic patterns. For instance, a dotted eighth followed by a sixteenth should have the exact relation (3:1) within a pulse in a rubato section, i.e., within a time distance that has been deliberately shortened or lengthened. The same principle applies to all written out ritardandos and accelerandos.
Second, the use of rubato (localized tempo nuance) should not result in a change of the permeating tempo (general or overall tempo). “Stolen time” should be compensated with accelerations followed by adequate decelerations in order to restore the initial tempo. Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach commented on the importance of sensitivity in applying rubato (Bach, p. 161). Too much or misplaced rubato exasperated Chopin (Eigeldinger, p. 49), and Neuhaus similarly warned against its excessive use (Neuhaus, pp. 31-32).
If rubato is a tempo nuance, the application of “rhythmic conventions” is a metric one. Such conventions, found mostly in Baroque music, include the over-dotting of a dotted eighth note followed by a sixteenth (which becomes shorter in value) or the transformation of the same rhythmic formula into a triplet figure. Although seemingly contradicting the aforementioned principle of metric evenness and regularity, the exceptional and tasteful use of such conventions can enliven the rhythmic feel and help reveal the true rhythmic meaning of a phrase. For this reason, they should only be applied to certain rhythmic patterns in specific genres of music, and always with due regard to the overall musical context, rhythmic coherence, and continuity of tempo.
I have witnessed firsthand in my private piano studio that detailed and meaningful work on rhythm yields an array of benefits ranging from musical confidence to artistic interest and technical freedom. Students with body tension and poor posture can overcome their limitations by feeling the pulse internally and subsequently expressing it with their bodies. This work contrasts the usual note-by-note approach that tends to intensify physical tension due to an excess focus on individual events rather than the bigger line that unifies a musical piece. Working with the pulse makes the visualization of the rhythmic patterns a lot easier. Suddenly, the student starts giving and simultaneously receiving auditory rhythmic cues, which in turn translate into kinesthetic ones. Eventually, the student’s playing becomes fluent, the posture, body/hand movement, and breathing following an internal rhythmic sequence perfectly synchronized with the music. It is very rewarding to see a student finally let go and have fun with the music on all these levels. After all, music originates from rhythm, and therefore one has to go back to this fundamental source of energy to truly understand and express the musical essence to its fullest extent.
Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel. Essay on the true art of playing keyboard instruments. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1949.
Eigeldinger, Jean-Jacques. Chopin: pianist and teacher. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.
Hofmann, Josef. Piano playing with piano questions answered. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1976.
Kochevitsky, George. The art of piano playing. Evanston, Illinois: Summy-Birchard Co., 1967.
Matthay, Tobias. Musical interpretation: its laws and principles, and their application in teaching and performing. Boston, Massachusetts: The Boston Music Co., 1913.
Neuhaus, Heinrich. The art of piano playing. Durango, Colorado: Longwood Academic, 1989.
Newman, William S. The pianist’s problems. New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1956.
Randel, Don Michael. Harvard concise dictionary of music. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1978.
Slenczynska, Ruth. Music at your fingertips. New York: Da Capo Press, Inc., 1986.
Walter, Bruno. Of music and music-making. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1961.
Christos Tsitsaros is Associate Professor of Piano Pedagogy at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign. Dr. Tsitsaros pursued professional piano studies in Warsaw, Paris, and at Indiana University. A soloist, chamber musician, and touring clinician, Christos is also active as a composer. Many of his educational piano compositions are published by Hal Leonard Corporation and Frederick Harris Music. Two CDs containing his more advanced works are available through the Centaur Records label. He currently serves as Piano Chair for the Illinois State Music Teachers Association.
Some of his published works include Poetic Moments, Songs Without Words, Dances from Around the World (Hal Leonard), Cinderella Suite, Songs and Dances, and Nine Tales (Frederick Harris Music). Autumn Sketches is now available directly from Dr. Tsitsaros. Works included in his first CD (CRC 2382): Autumn Sketches, Blackbirds at Ueno, The Bike Ride, Nine Tales, Ballade, Cyprian Fantasy, and Echoes from an Arena. His second CD (CRC 2856, appeared in March 2007) includes his Recuerdos de Taos, Two Night Pieces, and Dramatic Variations after a Reading of Primo Levi's "Survival in Auschwitz."
Editor’s Note: As part of this article, we are pleased to present audio clips on our website highlighting the rhythmic aspects of the music of Christos Tsitsaros. The comments below have been provided by the composer.
The following pieces are from Autumn Sketches (from Piano Works by Christos Tsitsaros, Centaur Records, Inc. CRC 2382. Used by permission.)
This piece makes extensive use of tempo rubato. Notice where the slight tempo deviations are used , and how the regular movement of eighth notes is balanced and maintained throughout the piece.
This uses a stricter tempo in the outer sections, but more use of rubato in the middle.
This rhythmically vibrant dance-like piece uses a regular straightforward tempo. Notice how the prominence of accents and staccato articulation contribute to the rhythmic life of the piece.
The following pieces are from Recuerdos de Taos (from Christos Tsitsaros, Recuerdos de Taos, Two Night Pieces, Dramatic Variations, Centaur Records, Inc. CRC 2856. Used by permission.)
This uses straight tempo with slight deviations. Notice that the rhythmic relations between longer and shorter note values in the melody remain intact in spite of the use of rubato.
This multi-sectional piece features various tempi. Clap the beat, and you would will notice how the different tempi in each section relate to each other.
Notice the shorter note values in the inner and bottom layer of the texture against the quarter notes in the melody (top layer). The melody is set at the beat (quarter notes) while the distances between the beats are "filled out" by a variety of rhythmic figures: triplets in the left hand, sextuplets in the right (bottom layer), and sixteenths in the middle section.
In the next issue: What common pitfalls occur in the teaching of rhythmic subdivisions?