a light touch
“People rarely say, ‘I wish I’d panicked more.’”
In my piano studies, I’ve been thinking a lot about the way I touch the piano keys. When I listen to recordings of myself (an excellent learning experience, and a humbling self-critique), I am dismayed at how clunky each note sounds — as though hammered out, or banged hard with a mallet. This is how pianos work mechanically — a dense felt pad strikes a taut string — but the best artists have a way of sounding each note as though it simply appears out of thin air. I noticed it especially during Yuja Wang’s recent recital in Chicago and in a recording of András Schiff’s. No movement, no player; just sound.
To touch each key lightly is to have confidence in the instrument: to know that the piano does a lot of the work. Artists of all media say similar things: that writing is simply arranging the best words, that composition is listening for music already present around us. During a performance by Demondrae Thurman many years ago, I had the distinct impression that he was effortlessly channeling music through his instrument; that no air or energy were really coming from him; he was simply directing these forces into some order that made sense to our ears. Effortless mastery, and effortless execution.
In cha dao, the Way of Tea, we speak of wu wei, or “action-less action”. It is like the force of waves in water: coming from nowhere, intending nothing, signifying nothing. It is the grace of natural movement, and of diligent practice that begets at once concentration and no-thought. It is getting our selves out of the way.
When I hear myself play piano heavy-handedly, it seems so obvious: each leap and hard landing is something like grasping. As though the notes, just beyond my capabilities, might escape if I don’t lurch forward and grab tight.
How often we trick ourselves into holding on to things, as if our tense grip and constricted heart could capture something over which we have no control in the first place. Isn’t it true that all these things — relationships changing, projects growing, ideals and aspirations evolving — will take their own courses, no matter how much we try to influence them?
