Showing posts with label arts medicine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arts medicine. Show all posts

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Lumbricals, Some Getting Stronger, Others Discouragingly Staying the Same

 Lumbrical muscles
G   reat strength is necessary in the fingers, yes, but it comes with playing, if one plays rightly—that is, musically. From the moment one senses that the finger must ‘sing’, it becomes stronger. That is quite a different matter from playing exercises or etudes merely for the sake of strengthening, and saying ‘I must exercise my fingers and make them strong.’ Such playing as this latter sort does not help at all.”
  —  Vladimir Horowitz.
M y guitarist-pianist friend and colleague at work comes and visits with me this week, says that for more than a month he’s been doing exercises to strengthen the lumbrical muscles in his hands. The left hand has been responding, but the right hand—especially the ring finger and pinky—has been staying the same or, paradoxically, might even be getting weaker.

H e worries about focal dystonia. (Jason Solomon of Georgia Guitar Quartet has an excellent article about that here.) He worries about carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS). I am not a neurologist, but I know enough to know when to go and hire one. I ask my friend about whether he has any numbness or difference in sensation among the fingers on the right hand, or between the right and left...

T he fact that my friend is a professional software developer/engineer who spends 70+ hours at a laptop keyboard each week is something the neurologist will need to know, as part of the evaluation—in addition to the heavy hours on guitar and piano. In other words, if what my friend is experiencing is some type of repetitive stress injury (RSI), then characterizing the various types and intensities of repetitive motions will be clinically important.

T he state-of-the-art of hand biomechanics and hand problems of musicians have been a recurring interest for me for some years, so, in response my friend’s immediate situation, I go online and scan the current medical journal literature, to see what, if anything, is new in the last year or two. For his benefit and maybe for your own, I gather some relevant things together in the list of links below.

W here exactly is the ‘carpal tunnel’? The carpal tunnel is the narrow space anatomically between the small carpal bones of the wrist and the ligament called the flexor retinaculum. Here’s how you can find it: Put your left index finger in the center of your right palm, then move the finger about two inches down your palm toward your arm, stopping when your finger approaches the edge of the fleshy part of your hand. Your finger now lies directly over the carpal tunnel. The carpal tunnel is the U-shaped depression with carpal bones below and on either side. The flexor retinaculum ligament stretches over the top of the ‘U’ to make a tunnel-like space. The cross-section of the tunnel is only a centimeter or so, and nine flexor tendons (two to each finger and one to the thumb) have to pass through that little tunnel. The space is so narrow that some of the tendons are bundled on top of each other instead of going side-by-side the way they do outside the tunnel.

B esides tendons, the median nerve also goes through the carpal tunnel. By contrast, the ulnar nerve does not run in the carpal tunnel. The median nerve supplies most of the palm, the thumb, the index finger, the middle finger, and part of the ring finger. The first and second lumbricals (i.e. the two that are most ‘lateral’ on the radial side; index and middle fingers) are innervated by the median nerve. The third and fourth lumbricals (i.e. the most medial two; middle, ring, and little fingers) are innervated by the deep branch of the ulnar nerve. So if what’s going on is actually CTS, then you might expect weakness predominantly in lumbricals and/or interosseous muscles serving the thumb or index finger or middle finger or maybe the middle fingerward side of the ring finger. And you might think ‘ulnar neuropathy’ if the ring finger and/or pinky are predominantly affected.

B ut, gee, knowledge of the neuroanatomy of peripheral nerves in your arm and wrist and hand only gets you part of the way toward figuring out what is going on. In part, this is because of the interconnections elsewhere, including the motor cortex in your brain. Besides clinical evaluation, electrodiagnostic (EDX) tests are usually needed to confirm the diagnosis.

T he lumbrical and interosseous muscles are important in several motions—including flexing and plucking, increasing and diminishing the ‘spread’ of the fingers, and extending/raising the fingers. The lumbricals are used during an ‘upstroke’ when you are writing with a pen or pencil. These are the muscles that make the fingers separate and spread out or, alternately, converge and come together. The lumbrical muscles, with the help of the interosseous muscles, simultaneously flex the metacarpophalangeal (MCP) joints while extending both interphalangeal (IP) joints. In bats and other animals, these muscles are the ones that enable them to spread the wings and grab the air at one instant and flex and draw them in a few tens of milliseconds later and let the air go. If a bat acquired a repetitive stress injury of its lumbricals, on both sides or one side different from the other, it wouldn’t have long to live. Same thing for a seal: you can’t swim and catch fish if your lumbricals are faltering. Serious musicians—people whose livelihood or soul depends on playing—worry about this, as intently as a seal or bat.

T he EDX testing for these conditions is steadily getting more sensitive and more precise. For example, Sheehan and coworkers (link below) studied people referred with suspected carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS) by measuring the ‘second lumbrical-interosseous distal motor latency difference’ (2LI-DML) as well as by other, more standard tests like ‘median-ulnar palmar velocity difference’. The referred cases included 74% who turned out to be CTS. Sheehan suggests that 2LI-DML, which is a more sensitive test than other nerve conduction velocity tests for detecting mild abnormalities, is useful as a screening test for latent CTS on the asymptomatic side.

M otor distal latency (MDL) differences between the median-thenar and ulnar-hypothenar (M-U) muscles and between the median-second lumbrical and ulnar-interossei muscles (2L-INT) have also recently been used to diagnose early or ‘mixed’ cases. After all, there is no law of Nature that says a person can’t have CTS and UNE or CTS and focal dystonia at the same time. In people in whom the conventional nerve conduction tests are so far ‘normal’ despite the symptoms they are having, the neurologist can measure both motor and sensory W-P conduction and in a large percentage of cases this can establish a diagnosis.

U lnar neuropathy at the elbow (UNE) is the second most common compressive neuropathy of the upper limb. Compared to ‘ulnar neuropathy at the elbow’ (UNE), ulnar neuropathy at the wrist (UNW) is rarer and more difficult to localize with routine electrodiagnostic (EDX) tests. In terms of expectation-setting, it is reasonable to anticipate that it may take some time (and multiple visits) to establish an accurate diagnosis and decide on the right treatment plan. In general, these are not things that can be sorted out in a single, quick office visit.

T he important thing—if you are having symptoms like the ones my guitarist friend is having—is to get yourself examined by a neurologist who is experienced in problems of performing artists and who has the equipment and training to perform the newer EDX tests that are available. You can search for practitioners who are diplomates of the American Board of Electrodiagnostic Medicine here. I regret that I don’t know what comparable search resources there may be for consultants having EDX professional certifications in other countries.





Wednesday, August 27, 2008

He Who Dies with the Most Toys Wins: Jean-Baptiste Lully’s Non-Musical Exploits

broken heart
Q  uestion: What did Lully do when he wasn’t writing music?”
  —  Anonymous email to CMT blog.
A  nswer #1: He was exerting many and varied efforts to make his living as a composer and insure that he was paid for his works’ performances and publication. He was acting as his own agent and manager and presenter. Such exertions would have been much as any composer would do today, only Lully was more overtly political and power-connected than anybody is today.”
A  nswer #2: He was practicing at being an amateur alchemist; dancing the minuet, gavotte, and the bourée; playing the guitar lasciviously when it suited him as a suitor; playing pranks on friends; and generally leading the life of a wealthy rascal, libertine and bon vivant.”
A  nswer #3: Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Early in his life, composing was, perhaps, the only thing Lully had within his control. Getting manuscript copies made, and arranging for scores to be printed took lots of his time and attention. As the son of a miller—as a poor kid whose mom died and who was then farmed out to work as a child laborer—he had no reservations about getting personally involved selling manuscript copies of his works at performances of his operas. Whatever it takes, he would do. He had extensive dealings with publishers—troublesome negotiations that took entirely too much time away from more valorous pursuits. “Business, pesky business. Such a bother, even for (especially for!) a spectacularly successful composer! People should just pay handsomely and pay royalties in perpetuity without having to negotiate! People should just pay on-time, as they had promised! Competitors should be banished!”

Well, no. His correspondence does not show any such ‘tude. He was tactically using and manipulating the aristocracy; he was not one of them. Evidence of arrogance in the extant Lully documents is, maybe, more a reflection of the shark-waters he was swimming in, than a narcissistic conviction of his innate superiority.

Lully was born in Florence in 1632 and spent his formative years there, until 1645. Through Roger de Lorraine, the Chevalier de Guise, he became a servant to Mademoiselle de Montpensier as ‘garçon de chamber.’ “Kitchen help”; “pot and bottle-washer”; “teaching the duchess Italian when it pleased her.” (Right. More like “Tutoring Trysts in the Tuileries”?)

When J-B was 13, the then-18 year-old ‘minerva-esque’ Mlle. Montpensier thought his sassiness was cute. She saw to it that he received music lessons … a gambit to enable the two of them to spend more time together playing chamber music? But in his later teens he grew contemptuous of her and wore out his welcome. Jean-Baptiste’s sophomoric poem satirizing his mercurial by then 25 year-old patroness led her to dispatch his impudent, no-longer-so-little then-20 year-old self in 1652. (We suspect there was more to this escapade than some apocryphal doggerel and a fit of pique jeunesse, but, alas, historical evidence thereof is scanty.)


J-B was no slacker, though, and finagled continuing his music studies under the illustrious Nicolas Métru. While there, he kept his prankster tendencies in check; his talents were noteworthy enough to enable him audition and appointment to the orchestra of the French court as a violinist.

When he was 30, Lully was appointed director of music to Louis XIV (in 1662). About the same time, he became a naturalized French citizen (his Italian name had been Giovanni Battista Lulli). In 1662, Lully married Madeleine Lambert, daughter of court musician and co-worker Michel Lambert. Madeleine and Jean-Baptiste had ten children together over the next twenty years. But in 1685, Lully ‘outed’ and revealed his relationship with Brunet, his young page.

Besides his serial affairs with multiple boys, Lully also openly carried on with a number of women, much to the displeasure of Louis XIV and, no doubt, the good Roman Catholic, Madeleine. Curiously, Lully was also interested in alchemy and conducted experiments with de Tarraga, a converted Jew who studied the occult. Popular hobby in the 1680s.

As an artist he was top-flight, but as a human being his ethics were incontinent at best, wholly lacking at worst. Facilitated by his marriage in 1662, he achieved a rapport with Molière, with whom had not previously had dealings but with whom for the next ten years he collaborated on numerous successful ballets. A consummate courtier, he curried Louis XIV’s favor at every opportunity, making himself seemingly indispensable and sowing disparagement of others. In March, 1672, he succeeded in ousting Abbé Perrin from the directorship of the Academy of Music. He did this, in part, by preying upon the Abbé’s penchant for gambling. Perrin founded the Académie Royale de Musique, but he was a distracted/incompetent administrator. He had no patience for financial details, and dishonest collaborators took advantage of him—bullshitted him, got him to commit to ruinous deals, unfavorable terms. Lully was just another opportunist in this destructive saga. Perrin was forced to sell his court privilege to Lully, to settle a debt with Lully. But Perrin nontheless ended up in debtors prison because of his other debts. Lully apparently cast aspersions on Perrin, to prevent Louis XIV from paying off Perrin’s creditors. He thereby sealed Perrin’s fate. All’s fair in love and war. Fight dirty. Do unto others, because you can get away with it.

Poetic justice eventually supervened, though. Lully’s death in 1687 at age 55 resulted from sepsis secondary to gangrene in his toe, a ridiculous complication of blunt trauma he incurred while conducting a ‘Te Deum’, compounded by Lully’s perverse refusal to have the toe amputated. He’d been emphatically beating time with the heavy ‘staff’ or mega-baton, when he smashed his foot accidentally with the thing. Abscess formation ensued and, some days later, sepsis and death. Sweet.

On his death-bed Lully wrote, ‘Bisogna morire, peccatore’ (‘It is necessary to die now, sinner’). ‘Damn,’ said the bon vivant. Game Over.

By the time he died Lully owned four elegant houses—three in France and one in Italy.

But unlike John McCain, Lully remembered how many houses he had, how much he paid for each of them, and where each was located.

If we want to indulge in speculating, then the real question is how rare and fortuitous is the gangrenous toe from one whack with a stick? In a 55 year-old man in the pre-insulin era, you would put your money on Type-II diabetes. Peripheral vascular disease due to diabetes; trauma from the stick; poor perfusion to the modestly injured tissues; abscess formation; gangrene; sepsis; death.

Gangrene of the lower extremities is from 8 to 150 times more frequent in diabetic than in non-diabetic people, most often occurring in those who smoke. But so far as I can tell, there are no scholarly explorations into the matter of whether Lully was a Type-II diabetic. No mention of whether he had intermittent claudication or other chronic pain in his legs. Thorough medical historianship regarding Lully’s clinical condition is conspicuously absent to-date.

Waldenstrom’s Macroglobulinemia or multiple myeloma with fulminant paraproteinemia, Buerger’s disease (thromboangiitis obliterans), Polycythemia vera, atrial fibrillation and atrial thrombus embolizing to foot, ergot poisoning, whatever; Lazy Leukocyte Syndrome and other possible metabolic or inherited conditions that could eventuate in gangrene after a single knock with a stick are “green dragon” diagnoses—rare as hens’ teeth. Your better bet would be diabetes.

The most important decision required these days is whether excision of gangrenous toe should be undertaken before or after the attempt to restore peripheral circulation by angioplasty. In many situations, surgeons prefer to attempt angioplasty first because of the possibility of non-healing of wound if excision were undertaken before a peripheral arterial angioplasty. Just saying.

Gangrenous toe in a Type-II diabeticDon’t forget to get a copy of John Hajdu Heyer’s wonderful volume of essays on Lully, originally released in 1989. A new less-expensive paperback edition of this has just this month been published by Cambridge University Press. While this book is predominantly serious, card-carrying musicology of the French Baroque, there is a wealth of colorful detail in there concerning what Lully did do and did not do, as distinct from his composerly deeds and musicianly output. Beautifully edited.

In the years since the book was first published, Hajdu Heyer became Dean of the College of Arts & Communication at the University of Wisconsin - Whitewater (UWW). John received his PhD in musicology from the University of Colorado in 1973. He has been on the faculty at UWW since 1997. Prior to that he was at Indiana University of Pennsylvania and UC Santa Cruz. From 1980 to 1997 he was Lecturer and Program Annotator for the Carmel Bach Festival in Carmel, California. Since 1998 Hajdu Heyer has served on the ‘Comité scientifique Jean-Baptiste Lully • Œuvres Completes’, the scholarly editorial board for the multi-volume Lully series published by Olm Verlag, Hildesheim, and by Musica Gallica, Paris. For nearly twenty years he was also a member of the Lully Committee, an international group involved with conserving and publishing Lully’s work, and also a member of its Sub-committee on Resources, which succeeded in getting U.S. National Endowment for the Humanities financial underwriting for an archive of Lully ballets at Stanford University.

Hajdu Heyer book
Check out Hajdu Heyer’s ‘Lully Studies’ book, too—published by Cambridge University Press in 2000; engagingly written and a treasure-trove of information not available elsewhere. (By the way, in 1973 John married linguist Sandra Heyer and changed his name from the Hungarian ‘Hajdu’ to the hyphenation with her surname: ‘Hajdu Heyer’.)


de La Gorce book


Monday, October 30, 2006

Black-Key Biomechanics

Black Keys
CMT: When we were together last time, you were talking about the natural anatomy of the fingers and biomechanics of how the pianist’s or composer’s hands lie upon the black keys. Did you know that there was an orthopedic surgery journal article about twenty years ago about “E-flat hand,” involving a pianist whose injury primarily affected the ability to play in E-flat? This was by McGregor and Glover, surgeons at the Royal Infirmary in Glasgow. The injury mainly concerned abnormally reduced flexion between the index finger and middle finger of the pianist’s right hand. They surgically divided the intertendinous connection between the extensor tendons of the two fingers on the dorsum of the right hand—the dexterity to navigate the black keys, especially in E-flat and C minor, was restored. Well, okay; great. But the notion of an injury differentially affecting performance in just one key, though—that’s just bizarre. Surely that “E-flat hand” title of the article must’ve been some sort of very bad hand-surgeon humor, don’t you imagine? Ian McGregor was a very senior consultant at that time—an editor of that journal even? He could get away with hyperbole, pulling legs a bit. They weren't serious, though!

DSM: Well, yes and no. The concept of an injury exclusively affecting playing in one key but absolutely no other keys is pretty implausible. But the notion of some gradation—some disparity of the relative impact on performance fluency among different key signatures—that does, I think, ring true. How about wrist injuries? Have there been any reported relationships of disabilities of the wrist—to playing fluency in black-intensive key signatures? The way the hands advance in black keys toward the fall-board might be expected to give rise to some susceptibility to wrist-injury-related differences, don’t you imagine? Generally, the wrist should be about on a level with the second joint of the middle finger, when the fingers are properly rounded. The knuckles will then be a little elevated. In fact, they’ll naturally take care of themselves, all things considered. But this changes subtly when you’re on the black keys a lot.

CMT: No—I’m unable to find any papers that’ve been published on wrist lesions’ effect on the ability to play in different key signatures as such. Hand surgery has only a limited role in alleviating pianists' difficulties. Apart from deQuervain’s and nerve-entrapment syndromes, there are few indications for hand surgery. Stabilizing a metacarpophalangeal thumb joint is pretty successful—there are a number of orthopedics hand surgeons doing this in pianists’ hands. Also, performing arthrodesis in painful and unstable distal interphalangeal (DIP) joints is routinely done with good results. The indications for orthopedic surgical procedures on the trapeziometacarpal joint are more controversial—the decision requires more cautious evaluation, the procedure is by no means ‘routine’, and the results aren’t currently as reliably or predictably good. Of course, wrist fractures and rheumatoid arthritis and carpal tunnel and focal dystonia and Linburg-Comstock syndrome and other things do have a big impact on playing overall. But I’ve been unable to find any studies of wrist anatomy or abnormalities differentially affecting fluency in particular keys. Oh, we continually have to work on equal finger development, Czerny-style. As you say, we can never make all our fingers equal—we’ll never make our fourth finger as strong as our thumb no matter what exercises we do. Instead, we learn to so compensate the weight and pressure of each finger so that all can produce serviceably uniform, nearly equivalent sounds. So, injury-type natural experiments aside, are there exercises involving the wrist that inadvertently produce differential effects regarding fluency in different keys?

DSM: Chopin’s étude in sixths is a good example, I think. This study needs a quiet, limpid touch—gliding rather than forceful motion. Play it at first pianissimo—the wrist low, the knuckles a little elevated, the fingers flat. In preparation for each pair of notes raise the fingers and let them down—not with a hard touch, but with a soft one. A composition like this needs to be abstract, ethereal, not quite of this earth.

CMT: Fingers’ reaching for the notes, the passing of the hand in the air and the final gentle fall on the key—not in undue haste to get there, but with confidence of reaching the key in time. What goes up must come down. This barcarolle is not easy! There’s plenty of work in it for flexible hands: it’s a study in pianissimo playing—in power controlled, held back, restrained.

DSM: On violin and other string instruments, too, we have to beware. If there be flat keys here, you’d better fortify your fourth finger! I should stretch my first finger up—or my fourth finger down—in order to play a flatted or sharped note, and my second and third fingers should stay exactly where they usually are in first position. That avoids the problem of drifting out of tune by not coming back to the right place on the string. An irritating new habit that I’ve picked up is letting my left hand slowly drift closed so that my first finger is in the right place but my fourth finger is too close, so I’m playing flat notes all the time. Shifting into half position can cause this—when I shift back to first position my hand has closed up a bit. I’m going to have to struggle to break this bad habit.

CMT: For my piano calisthenics, I play diatonic or chromatic octave scales with four repetitions or more on each note, using the fourth finger for black keys. By the way, the biomechanics of the hand on modern keyboards—has been examined at length by Kroemer and Meinke. There are several phases of finger movement that have been identified:
  • Preposition: This is the phase that controls how the note will sound. It does this by determining where over the point of sound (distance) and what energy state the tip of the finger will have before gravity is allowed to take over. Any of several movements may be seen, ranging from nothing (for pianissimo) to a visible lifting of the limb away from the keyboard before it drops (for a loud and percussive fortissimo). The muscles of pronation and supination in the forearm invariably participate in this phase, and give the tiny movement a rotary component. They are large enough to develop and direct momentum in the limb yet small enough to be capable of the fine control needed to give the striking member the exact amount of speed and force that will produce the required sound. The fingers move into position to act as a conduit for the combined downward vectors, but does so against no more resistance that the resting tension of the hand held in “neutral.”
  • Grasp: From the time gravity is allowed to act on the limb until movement away from the key, the only active forces are those sufficient to prevent the deviation of the wrist and finger from neutral position. At this point the fingers are passive conductors of force. If more than one finger is to play, the opportunity presents itself through motions of the arm and forearm to direct relatively more of the available force into one or the other, thus giving a different tonal quality and intensity to each of the tones produced. In particular, no other increased intrinsic tension is present, such as might be seen if the next finger to play began to stretch toward its target position. If the note is to be held, the limb presses the key to the key bed by the force of gravity alone until the note is released. If it is not, then the momentum imparted to the limb by the rebound from the key bed is used to “propel” it into the next reach.
  • Release: Defined as the point at which all downward vectors of force have disappeared from the playing finger, release should probably not be considered complete until the playing finger has reached neutral position and intrinsic (isotonic) forces are at a minimum. When possible it will use the rebound from the key bed as a force propelling the finger away from the key. The trajectory of movement away from the key will be such that this movement assists rather than opposes the next reach.

DSM: You have to somehow passively conduct the energy that’s produced by other parts of your body. First of all, the element of control resides in that period of time just before gravity is allowed to act, the preposition portion of the cycle. Gravity has to carry the mass of the forelimb through the point of sound if it is to be utilized as a force. Any attempt to control the sound after the preposition phase interferes with this. Because the movements associated with preposition are so small, little is known about them.

CMT: Also, the shorter the cycle (keystrokes in quick succession), especially when the passage is loud, the more the player’s forced to utilize extrinsic forces to maintain a level of kinetic energy in his or her upper limbs. This way, passages that seem to defy the limits of human physiology are within reach.

DSM: Wristen’s recent papers have looked at specific matches of the player’s hands to the keys. Small-handed pianists preferred a smaller 7/8-size keyboard. The maximum angle of hand-span while playing a difficult piece was about 5° smaller radially and 10° smaller ulnarly for the 7/8 keyboard compared to the full-size keyboard. That led to perceived greater ease and better performance as rated by the pianists who were studied.

CMT: Look also at Miyazaki’s experiments, where he asked his subjects to identify tones by pressing the corresponding key on a piano-like keyboard—on which the black keys are smaller and further away from the subject. Could it be, they wondered, that people identified black keys more slowly because the black keys are biomechanically harder to reach? They conducted an experiment where all the buttons were geometrically equally easy for the fingers to reach. But they discovered that white keys were nonetheless identified more quickly and with fewer errors than the black ones. So there’s more going on here besides the geometry of the keyboard design—there’s also visual perception and neuropsychology of black vs white recognition.

DSM: There’s also the muscle memory—routinized associations of digits positions on keys. The thumb always stays on the white keys, never on black keys. The fourth finger always plays a black key when there is a black key to be played in the scale. The fifth finger is only used at a starting place, a stopping place, or a turning-around place. These are rules that brook not very many exceptions. And Miyazaki didn’t do the full inverse experiment with the black and white in reversed configuration.

CMT: Yes, all of these factors interact with each other. We learn to be aware of the physical activity and sensual nature of touching the keyboard in a wide variety of ways. We attend to the way a finger moves from white key to black key in the production of a melodic phrase. Awareness is also given to the way the hand must stretch, contract and shape itself to a particular melodic pattern. In this fashion, the body learns how to measure musical time in a tangible way thereby creating an exact correlation between aural thought and physical response and measurement.

DSM: We were talking about flat fingers a few minutes ago. Advantages of the so-called flat-finger position (FFP) are that this position simplifies the pianist’s finger motion and lets the fingers to relax a bit. The number of muscles needed to control the finger motion is smaller than in positions where the fingers are more curled—because all you have to do is to pivot the whole finger around the knuckle. In the curled position, each finger has to uncurl with precision every time it hits a note, in order to maintain the correct finger angle with respect to the key. The motion in FFP uses only the main finger-actuating muscles needed to press the keys. In curled positions, there’s a “latency” or delay to the finger motion; it’s more difficult to begin the finger motion and control it. The easiest way to move the finger tip rapidly in fully curled positions is to move the entire hand—and that slows things down a lot—big inertia constraint.

CMT: So with the curled position you need more physiological reserve to play at the same speed as you’d need with FFP. Contrary to conventional wisdom, you can play faster with flat fingers than with the curled position because any amount of curl will entail some curl-related latency or delay. This is important when the speed produces stress when you face a difficult passage. The amount of stress is greater in the curled position, and this difference can be enough to make you hit a speed “wall”.

DSM: There are discussions in the piano literature in which it’s claimed that the lumbrical and interossei muscles are important in piano playing, but to-date there’s no research to support these claims, and it’s not known whether these muscles play a part in FFP. It is generally believed that these muscles are used mainly to control the curvature of the fingers, so that FFP uses only the muscles in the arms to move the fingers and the lumbricals simply hold the fingers in position (curled or FFP), thus simplifying the movement and allowing for greater control and speed for FFP. Thus there is uncertainty today about whether the lumbricals enable higher speed or whether they cause curl paralysis.

CMT: Although FFP is simpler, I think all beginners should learn the curled position first and not learn the flat position until it’s actually needed. I do this with my students. If beginners start with the easier FFP, they’ll never learn the curled position well. Early players who try to play fast with FFP are likely to use fixed-phase parallel-set playing—they are then prevented from getting good finger independence. This makes for inadequate control, uneven speeds—lots of problems, lots of bad habits to break. Sandor calls the FFPs “wrong positions,” but Fink recommends certain positions that are clearly FFPs. I think it’s just a question of when to introduce the student to FFP.

DSM: Interestingly, most pianists who learn on their own use mostly FFPs. Jazz pianists—many of whom took lessons at some time in their youth but have been essentially self-taught in adult life—use FFPs more than classical pianists. And because many jazz pianists have inferior technique—but get by with it because there is less technical difficulty in jazz than in classical piano—the inferior technique tends to be spuriously blamed on the [self-styled, naïve] FFP. It’s lack of instruction and lack of critical coaching, not the use of FFP!

CMT: Regardless of FFP vs curled, the fourth finger is problematic for most people. Part of this arises from the anatomy of the muscles and tendons—it’s the most awkward finger to lift. That, in turn, makes it difficult to play fast and avoid hitting wrong notes. But the problem is worse in the curled position because of the complex motion and the latency that the curling of the finger induces. In the simpler flat-finger configuration, the problem is alleviated, and the fourth finger becomes more independent and easier to lift. If you place your hand on a flat surface in the curled position and lift the fourth finger, it will go up a certain distance. If you do this with FFP, the finger tip will go up a lot more. So it’s easier to lift the fingers, especially the fourth finger, in FFP. The ease of lifting reduces the stress when playing fast. Also, when trying to play difficult passages fast using the curled position, fingers 4 and 5 sometimes curl too much, creating more stress. These problems are diminished by using FFP.

DSM: Another advantage of flat-finger is that that position increases your reach because the fingers are already extended and straight. You can see this in videos of Horowitz and Gould. For this reason, pianists with small hands tend already to use the flat position for playing wide chords, often without realizing it. However, such people can feel “guilty” about the lack of curl and try to increase the curl. In doing this, they generate stress in the hand.

CMT: Another advantage of the FFP is that the fingers are pressing the keys with the part of the fingers with more flesh than at the finger tips. There’s some controversy about which part—the finger tip vs the fleshy part—is more sensitive to touch, in terms of the number of nerve endings and the degree to which the thickness of skin, or callus, or other factors.

DSM: With flat fingers, you can play the black keys using most of the large underside areas of the fingers; this large surface area can be used to avoid missing the black keys that are easy to miss in the curled position because they are so narrow. So it’s a good idea to play the black keys with your flatter fingers and the white keys with the fingers that have more curvature in their anatomy.

CMT: When your fingers are stretched out flat, look, you can reach further back towards the fallboard. It does require a little more force to depress the keys because of less leverage stemming from the shorter distance to the key bushing. The resulting heavier key weight allows you to play softer pianissimo. So the ability to move closer to the key bushing results in the ability to increase the effective key weight. The heavier key weight allows more control and softer pianissimo.

DSM: The FFP also allows louder fortissimo, especially for the black keys. There are two reasons. First, the area of the finger available for contact is larger and there is a thicker cushion, as explained above. Therefore, you can transmit a larger force with less chance of injury or pain. Second, the increased accuracy resulting from the larger contact area helps to produce an authoritative and reproducible fortissimo. In the curled position, the probability of miss-keying narrow black keys is pretty high—especially at fortissimo.

CMT: The ability to play fortissimo more reliably is something I hadn’t thought of before. But I’d be careful when you using FFP playing fortissimo. You’re risking hyper-extending those tendons, especially for finger 5.

DSM: I think practicing FFP should begin with the B major scale. In this key, all fingers play black keys except and 5th finger and thumb. The fingering for the right hand is standard for this scale, but the left hand has to start with the fourth finger on B.

CMT: The flat finger position is a sensitive diagnostic for technical deficiencies because of the difference in mechanical leverage at the metacarpal-phalageal joint. The fingers are stretched out longer.

DSM: If you have difficulties playing flat-fingered, try some black-key parallel-set exercises. Play all five black keys with the five fingers. Play the two-note group with thumb and forefinger and the three-note group with the remaining three fingers. There is an intermediate position in which the fingers are bent down only at the knuckles. This is called the “pyramid” position because the hand and fingers form a pyramid with the knuckles at the apex. This pyramid position is good for fast passages because it combines the advantages of the curled and flat positions.

CMT: We need a broader definition of “flat finger” playing. The straight FFP is just an extreme case, and there are lots of variations of positions between the totally flat position the curled position. In addition to the pyramid position, you can bend the fingers at the first joint from the knuckle—the “spider position,” for example. Most curl-related latency comes from bending the third phalanx of the finger. This can be demonstrated by bending only the third phalanx (if you can) and then trying to move that finger fast. The FFP simplifies the brain’s motor cortex task. Because you don’t involve the flexor muscle of the third phalanx, there are 10 fewer flexor muscles to control, and these are particularly awkward and slow muscles. So flat-finger technique that minimizes dependency on them can increase your playing speed. The flat-finger position gives more control because the relaxed third phalange is like a shock absorber—there is more flesh between the bone and the key surface. Playing with a curled position is like driving a car without shock absorbers.

DSM: You may want to lower the bench in order to be able to play with the flat part of the fingers. When the bench is lowered, it usually becomes necessary to move it farther away from the piano to provide enough room for the arms and elbows to move between the keyboard and the body. I used to sit too high and too close to the piano, which is not noticeable when playing with curled fingers. So using FFPs give you a more forgiving way to optimize the bench height and location.

CMT: At the lower heights, the wrists might sometimes fall below the level of the keyboard while you’re playing. Sitting farther away from the piano also gives you more space to lean forwards in order to play fortissimo. The extra reach, the large contact area, and the added cushion under the fingers—these make legato playing easier and quite different from legato using the curled position. The FFP also makes it easier to play two notes with one finger, especially because you can play with the fingers not parallel to the keys and use a very large area under the finger to hold more than one key down.

DSM: We should talk, too, about when you need the curled position. This position is not really an intentionally curled position but a relaxed position in which there’s a natural anatomical curl to the fingers. If you have a relaxed position that’s too straight, you may need to add a slight curl in order to get an optimal curled position. In this position, all the fingers contact the keys at an angle somewhat greater than 45 degrees (the thumb might make a somewhat smaller angle). There are some movements that are necessary for playing the piano that require the curled position. Some of these are: playing certain white keys (when the other fingers are playing black keys), playing between the black keys, and for avoiding poking your fingernails into the fallboard. Especially for pianists with large hands, it’s necessary to curl fingers 2, 3, and 4 when 1 and 5 are playing the black keys in order to avoid jamming fingers 2, 3, and 4 into the fallboard. One of the biggest disadvantages of the curled position is that the extensor muscles aren’t exercised as much as with FFP. The flexor muscles are able to overpower the extensors, and this creates control problems. In FFP, the flexor muscles are relaxed and not exercised as much. In fact, the flexor tendons are stretched out, and the fingers more flexible in general—less crampy. I wonder whether the incidence of focal dystonia is less in pianists who use FFP a lot, compared to those who primarily use curled positions…

CMT: What about the pedagogical controversy—whether we should play mostly with the curled position and add the FFP whenever necessary, or vice versa, as Horowitz did? I think a legacy of clavichord and fortepiano pedagogy is being visited upon the seventh generation of concert grand players here. Liszt suggested that each movement of the finger was connected with the whole process of movement of the playing arm, and that each rhythmic and dynamic change was linked to an inner pulse. One of Liszt’s rules was that technique doesn’t depend on exercise per se, but on the technique of exercise. Chopin also mentioned the importance of integrating hand, wrist, forearm and upper arm motions for piano playing. This is part of what led to the diversity of opinions that we see today among pianists regarding correct finger action.

DSM: Think about how FFP and what that entails for the position of the hand relative to the forearm and upper arm—how these are related to bench height. It’s easier to play with flat fingers when the bench is lower. There are lots of pianists who discover that they can play better with a lower bench position. Horowitz and Gould were examples. They claimed to get better control from FFP and the lower bench. There’s no good reason to sit overly low as Gould did, though—because you can always lower the wrist to get the same effect.

Here are some resources that may be of interest:

And here are some relevant sources worth looking at: