reflections

CLAYART SHOW with musical prelude

Prelude:

Thursday evening, I watched Barenboim on Beethoven, a segment of the Great Performances series on PBS. While the performances were wonderful, I was most interested in the masters class that he presented at the end of the program.

When young pianist David Kadouch was performing, Barenboim stopped him and asked what were the dynamics for a particular phrase (pianissimo - soft). Then why did he play one particular note so strongly? The answer, "Because I like it." was not acceptable to Barenboim. He insisted that the answer must derive from the internal logic of the piece. Of course, Kadouch had an answer, in that he felt the need to accentuate the note as preparation for a change in key that would come shortly afterward. Barenboim agreed with this as valid. The note in question had been used just before, was not being repeated and so should not have the same dynamics as the first. But, he also suggested that you could call attention to it by making softer, rather than louder.

Kadouch tried it, and then agreed that it was better.

There are many musicians who can play the notes but it takes work to find the music in the notes. We own two versions of the Schubert Impromptu's. One is by Alfred Brendel and the other by Michiko Uchida. They are different, but both succeed in finding the music. My local classical station insists in playing a version by John O'Connor, who succeeds in merely playing the notes, very fluently, but in a performance that is not as satisfying as the other two.

Similarly, I had the pleasure of hearing performances of Beethoven's Sonata No. 26 (Das Lebewohl, Les Adieux, The Farewell) on successive evenings by Brendel and Richard Goode. They both succeeded in finding the music, as it were, though the performances were so different that you might think you were listening to two different pieces.

My fingers have been playing the same notes since I was eight years old ... for 54 years I've played some of the same notes. The fingers know it, the brain knows it, and yet I find something new in it. And I find something new in it not by making a special effort to find it and to look for it, but by the mere fact that I can play it again. Barenboim on Sonata No. 20.

Music, like other forms of artistic expression, has an internal logic that we perceive with the senses. In the case of Beethoven or Schubert or John Coltrane, it is with our auditory sense. With the case of the ceramic arts, it is with our eyes or the sense of touch. I question, however, how many ceramic artists give their works the consideration that Barenboim gave to the works of Beethoven. Do we demand of ours own work that internal logic which he could find in a volume of a singe e-flat.

The Clayart Show on the Internet

Since I was not in Louisville, I can only judge the show from the photos posted to The Clayart Show web site. I really have to give thanks to the Janjobe Gallery for providing a venue and to all of those from Clayart who participated. It is a great tradition that I hope continues.

I have exchanged comments with someone who was able to see it as shown and heard that they are not the same.

Some pieces suffered for their reduction to flatness, losing an important sense of physicality, or a critical aspect of a composition meant to be seen in-the-round. (Of course, these are generally the ones that just don't make it onto photo-juried shows as all.) Others seemed elegant or nicely made in the photo, and nicely proportioned, but didn't hold up as well under closer scrutiny, or when seen from all angles.

Whether in a book, on the internet, or on those occasions where I have a chance to see an exhibit in person, I am always aware of the distinction between playing the notes and finding the music. I remember once (1975) seeing an exhibit of Bizen pottery at a Tokyo department store. Even though the clay was essentially identical, the firing similar, the range of forms limited by tradition, it was still easy to identify the work of Fujiwara Kei just by a casual glance around the room. He had, as it were, found the notes.

Photo Representation

There are a number of pieces which I find impossible to fairly asses through their photographic presentation. As I quoted above, the reduction to flatness is so complete that any sense of physicality is lost. In some, it is easier to guess what that might be. For example, this work by Charlie and Linda Riggs. I can make a guess about the shape of the piece, with the form swelling as much toward me as it does to the side. However, in a work such as this, the scale is also important and this photo gives absolutely no sense of that. It could be six inches high just as easily as 18 inches.

I have a similar problem with the torso shape by Marta Matray. Even though the lighting is slightly from the side and the shadows give some sense of its 3 dimension characteristic. Still, viewed in this manner I am not