M usical ideas are such combinations of tones, rhythms, and harmonies as to demand/inspire a thoughtful treatment like the main theses of a philosophical tract. [Any non-trivial musical idea inevitably] raises a question—sets up a problem that, in the course of the piece, has to be answered, resolved, ‘carried through’. It has to be carried through however many contradictory situations are plausible; it must be developed by deducing however many inferences there may be from what it postulates; it has to be checked—has to be proved to be true, like a mathematical theorem. And all this, if you are successful, will lead to a conclusion—a ‘pronunciamento’, a fresh new certainty—a beautiful new discovery [that speaks].” — Arnold Schoenberg, ‘Beauty and Logic in Music,’ unpublished manuscript.
T he quote above was one we saw in the Arnold Schönberg Center archives, when we visited Vienna a couple of months ago. I was reminded of this insight of Schoenberg’s during Bach’s complete two- and three-part Inventions (Sinfonias), performed by Konstantin Lifschitz last night. Interleaved Invention-Sinfonia-Invention-Sinfonia as they were, in ascending chromatic sequence (as opposed to chronologically; as opposed to rank-order by pedagogic difficulty in Wilhelm Friedemann’s Klavierbuchlein), the pieces led us in the audience to some new insights.
S ome inventions, performed by many at faster tempi, became intense meditations on color and timbre. Other ones, often performed with wider rubato variation, became motoric illustrations of individual conviction and duty. Consider the editorial suggestions of the Alfred or others’ modern editions; consider the ur-texts of Bach himself; but make up your own mind—find your own true story. Which is what Konstantin Lifschitz did for us so wonderfully and spontaneously last night.
T hese inventions began as [mere] ideas, that Bach conceived [in an improvisational, impromptu manner] and wrote as teaching tools. The complexities of the three-voice Sinfonias make the two-part Inventions seem [simple] when you play them side-by-side.” — Cynthia Siebert, founder, Friends of Chamber Music.
I t’s a joy to hear the unfiltered account of a friend’s or lover’s dream. We feel touched and, not just ‘connected’, but also more ‘human’ for the shared experience... ‘included’, ‘alive’. We are included in the ‘action’, and we feel the curiosity and the moral duty to engage with the friend who is relating this dream to us. We sense the truth that arises from the honest synapses firing without the interpolation of an ego in the process. The purity of (absence of—) motives and the transparency count for a lot.
I st das möglich? Denkt ihr, man kann sich wirklich mit einer musikalischen Idee durch einen Traum verlieben, bzw. kann man tatsächlich träumen, verliebt sich in die musikalische Idee zu sein? Habt ihr sowas schon mal geträumt?
[Is this possible? Do you think you can really fall in love with a musical idea in a dream, or dream you can actually love to be in the musical idea? Have you dreamed something like this before?]” — Milton Babbitt.
I n a theme for [a set of] variations, it is almost only the bass [left-hand piano part] that has any meaning for me. But this is sacred to me: it is the firm foundation on which I then build my [musical] ‘stories’. What I do with a melody is only playing around ... If I vary only the melody, then I cannot easily be more than clever or graceful, or, indeed, [if] full of feeling, deepen a pretty thought. On the given bass, I invent something actually new; I discover new melodies in it--I create.” — Johannes Brahms.
V ictor Goldberg’s performance last night in the [completely filled] Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall was a tour de force.
Scarlatti: Sonata in E Major, K. 380
Chopin: Scherzo in B-flat Minor Op. 31
Shostakovich: Sonata No. 2 in B Minor, Op. 61
Brahms: Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel, Op. 24
I n particular, the emotional diversity of this program fully lived up to the ambitious ‘Depths of the Creative Spirit’ billing.
T he Brahms variations and fugue are the epitome of developing and reprising an idea, turning it round and round, dwelling on it and expanding it. Unlike Bach’s Goldberg variations or Beethoven’s Diabelli variations that vary the subject with the aim of departing from it, the Brahms reiterates its subject and reiterates it until the ‘patterns’ in the ‘wallpaper’ take on new, ever newer meanings. The nominal ‘structure’ recedes as in some kinds of optical illusions, and the deep/hidden significance is revealed. Pure magic.
I have read about this piece in the illustrious books about Brahms; I have heard Op. 24 performed before. Its surface qualities seem straightforward enough. And its storied place in Brahms’s early career (and in his relationship with Clara Schumann, who premiered Op. 24 in December, 1861) makes it seem like a known quantity.
B ut the meditative, ‘wave-like’, strophic character of Brahms’s 25 variations was prominently featured in Goldberg’s account last night. In fact, this is the first time that I think I understand this piece? Meditating musically is Victor Goldberg’s specialty—meditating not on changing the world or persuading others of his point of view, but meditating toward deeply apprehending the reality that’s already here and allowing us to apprehend it, too.
T here are many forms of meditative practice, but their essence is to see the truth of what ‘is’. Many classical Jewish meditations do this by contemplating a particular object—a phrase, a sense-perception, even an idea—and focusing intensely on it so that all distractions drop away. Similarly, in Buddhist and other traditions, attention is drawn to the barest perceptions of breath or movement—simply to suppress our inner chatter. Saying the rosary may have a similar effect for Roman Catholics. ‘Oneg shabbos’—becoming ever more exquisitely attuned to emotions—takes real effort. Getting ‘neshama yeteira’ (an ‘extra’ soul) or revealing and engaging the ‘hidden’ soul—doesn’t come from magic. It comes from effective, concentrated attention, and this is the gift that Goldberg gives us.
I t was through Pro Musicis and [their] community service concerts that I began to truly understand the power of communication and, therefore, the power of music.” — Peter Oundjian, violinist/conductor, quoted on Pro Musicis website.
G oldberg is a 32 year-old Russian-born Israeli who has performed extensively in Israel, Europe, and the United States. His honors include the 2008 Pro Musicis International Award, the Artist Recognition Award at the International Keyboard Festival in New York and the Vladimir Horowitz International Piano Competition in Kiev, and First Prize at the Arianne Katcz Piano Competition in Tel Aviv. Goldberg is a scholar of the American-Israel Cultural Foundation and holds degrees from Tel Aviv University’s Rubin Academy, Juilliard, the Peabody Institute of Johns Hopkins University, and the Manhattan School of Music.
A cadenza is meant to be improvised and should be performed as though it had just occurred to the performer. But, as it is risky for most players to improvise it on the spot, they ought to write it down or at least sketch it in advance... It is as little possible to prescribe good cadenzas… as it is to teach someone to memorize flashes of ‘wit’ beforehand.” — Daniel Gottlob Türk, Klavierschule, 1789.
I It is well known that Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach was connected to a wide circle of philosophers, theologians, poets and music critics—both in Berlin, where he worked as court harpsichordist to Frederick the Great, and in Hamburg, where he took up the post as director of music of the city’s churches from 1768. One of the central debates within these intellectual circles concerned the nature of artistic expression and its relationship to the self.” — Rachel Baldock, Understanding [C.P.E.] Bach, 2008.
T here have been lots of ‘hits’ on the CMT post that I put up a couple of days ago, on Mozart’s ‘Wurfelspiel’ minuet generator—oddly many. Also, a number of emails from readers asking whether I meant the post to be—or, alternately, whether Mozart meant K.516f to be—an attack on minuet form as ‘banal’. Hmmm!
W ell, no! Neither is true! Nor were early aleatoric compositional methods intended as pranks or idle curiosities, probably. I bet the instances that we know of—Mozart’s, Haydn’s, C.P.E. Bach’s, others’—were bona fide musical experiments, meant to earnestly see where things could go… intended to ‘push the envelope’ of compositional techniques and musical experience.
I n 1753 C.P.E. Bach wrote his ‘Versuch’ treatise, and he devoted the long last chapter entirely to how to improvise fantasias. He strongly recommended ‘free improvisation’ and thought that one effective way to encourage it was by [Sacrebleu!] eliminating the bar lines in the score.
B asically, he used randomization to generate sudden emotional contrasts. In the spirit of the so-called ‘Empfindsamer Stil’ for which C.P.E. Bach was famous, the performer/listener was meant to ‘go with the flow’, suspend disbelief, and ‘submit’ to the rite... Allow the evolving and contrasting moods of the composition to carry himself/herself away.
T his was not a superficial pandering to prevailing ‘market’ mores; it was C.P.E. Bach’s experiment in navigating the emotions—and an experiment in discovering what musical gestures were (or were not) effective in rapidly eliciting genuine feelings. Pamela Fox wrote a famous article about C.P.E. Bach’s ‘stylistic non-constancy’ about 20 years ago. But she didn’t speculate much about C.P.E. Bach’s motivations or psychological intentions. Pamela did not write about trances or ecstatic, mystical states…
T The public demands that practically every idea be constantly altered, sometimes without investigation whether the structure of the piece or the skill of the performer permits such alteration... One no longer has the patience to play the written notes [even] for the first time.” — C.P.E. Bach, Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard.
F or me, the process I experience is as though C.P.E. Bach were aiming at ‘startling’ us players or listeners with sudden changes in dynamics, with altered rhythmic patterns, with unexpected modulations.
T ake the ‘Concerto in F Major for Two Harpsichords’, Wq. 46 [H. 408], for example. There are some aleatoric elements in here, but these are only half-explicit... scored, but not entirely prescribed by C.P.E. And they are not the ‘frozen improvisations’ of the illustrious father, as Scheibe and Birnbaum once debated (see John Lutterman, Early Music America, Summer 2009, pp. 61-4).
I n Wq. 46, the subject enters—the right hand leading the canon—which could have been continued ad infinitum. The momentum that comes from the initial rhythm is not just from the notes’ velocity but also from the accelerated pace of canonical imitation—in other words, speed of fingers begets contrapuntal speed, a kind of organic biomechanical-gestural-psychological cooperation.
A s contrasted with the contrapuntal development of his father J.S., C.P.E.’s cadences are ‘loose’—ambiguous rests of indeterminate length, ambiguous rhythmic cues—suggestive of the physics of superconducting material, or of the physics of superfluidity. C.P.E. lets short-term ‘molecular physics’ of fast-moving harpsichordists’ fingers confront the larger contrapuntal designs and—Surprise!—call the larger designs into question.
I s this Wq. 46 concerto not ultimately a ‘clinical’ piece: C.P.E. Bach, plumbing human neurocognitive pathways of music and emotion? It’s almost as though this C.P.E. Bach composition pre-sages Stockhausen’s controlled aleatory of the later Klavierstücke—a kind of ‘meta-Galant’ style—or maybe instead it reprises the (?) stochastic gestalt of Gregorian plainsong?
T he 11 strings [3-3-2-2-1] and 2 horns have—a priestly role?
W ith the latitude for improvisation afforded by Wq. 46, can we not regard this concerto as a kind of ‘emotional gymnasium’ for esoteric training or ‘tantric exercises’? C.P.E. Bach wants the performers and the audience members to find out how fast can you go from bemusement/humor to pathos, from excited anticipation to ecstatic relief!
I n this connection, the usual sense of ‘frozen’ [scored] improvisations is that the composer was sketching what the performer might do—expecting that the performer would be able, technically, to do what was indicated or readily elaborate on the sketch.
B ut here we have a composer who writes something so demanding that it’s impossible for all but the most elite performer to manage it. Nonetheless, mere mortal performers do attempt it—like firewalkers. Or like pole-vaulters, with stochastically varying degrees of success at vaulting: performing the motoric parts of the Allegro assai of Wq. 46 is like a series of death-defying chasm leaps. We are thrilled to safely land on the opposite side; we are vicariously thrilled when performers do it... the beauty of surviving intact... Is it ‘extreme sport’? Is it a rite?
A nd what about the [runtime] idiosyncrasies of the elite body; or of the musical text/score and its scansion by our human eyes; or of the mechanism of the instrument itself (the plectrum for harpsichord; the bow for strings; the valves/slide for brass; the keys on a woodwind instrument; the laryngeal muscles and flesh of vocal folds). In the case of the harpsichord, the rate of return of the plectrum has relatively high variability (compared to piano, say)… Newtonian physics, in service of transcendent spiritual/emotional experience!
I acknowledge that these are emergent/microgranular sorts of aleatorics that’re not usually considered as ‘proper’ aleatoric forms. They may be either inadvertent (require the participant to ‘let go’ [become indifferent toward self] to enter the altered state of consciousness) or deliberate (require the participant to engage in ritual to induce ecstatic/high-arousal/transcendent state). They may not fit the ‘usual’ definitions, but they’re aleatoric just the same.
T ake, for example, Mozart’s writing in ‘Apollo et Hyacinthus’, where Mozart writes for boy singers (with peri-pubertal changing voices) and creates monumental technical difficulties for them—perilously low ‘alto’ parts for Apollo and Zephyr, especially. Melia and Hyacinth, sopranos; Oebalus, the tenor, for example confronts a technically scary part... a chorus to “sacrifice” on a pyre, then: whose parts Mozart deviously writes so as to expressly conjure a particular emotional state, triggered by events that take place in the recitatives and ‘da capo’ arias. All that.
S o was C.P.E. Bach familiar with tantric and sufi practices? Was Mozart? Were some of their concerti and menuets tantric dance analogues? Were they using aleatoric methods as a way to achieve altered states of consciousness?
E ven if the evidence is too scanty to ever know for sure, ask yourself whether these are sublime incantations with small-scale aleatorics! Ask yourself whether this Wq. 46 union of two harpsichords is an ‘ecstasy of technical plenitude’.
[Musica Antiqua Koln, Andreas Staier, Double Concerto for 2 harpsichords, 2 horns, strings & continuo in F major, H. 408, Wq. 46, I, Allegro]
[Musica Antiqua Koln, Andreas Staier, Double Concerto for 2 harpsichords, 2 horns, strings & continuo in F major, H. 408, Wq. 46, II, Largo]
[Musica Antiqua Koln, Andreas Staier, Double Concerto for 2 harpsichords, 2 horns, strings & continuo in F major, H. 408, Wq. 46, III, Allegro assai]
M y own taste runs more to Gustav Leonhardt’s and Alan Curtis’s or Ton Koopman’s and Tini Mathot’s more ‘over-the-top’ interpretations, I have to admit—compared to the conservative MAK performance. Or maybe the former recordings just happened on occasions of particularly auspicious baroque tantric good luck?
P lenty to discuss with Pamela Fox should she happen to be at BEMF this week…
T The harpsichord is my life... the organ is, in a way, a ‘luxurious extra’ to me.” — Gustav Leonhardt.
W hat about nutraceuticals or dietary approaches for stage fright? Aren’t there any over-the-counter supplements that work? What about amino acids? What about melatonin? I’m in a managed-care plan and I never get to see the same doctor twice. And the docs won’t ever spend more than 6 minutes talking to me, at best. The clinic schedule is so busy, they just go jumping from exam room to exam room. And the doctors’ decisions are reviewed and second-guessed by all these bean-counter administrators and compliance people. There’s no way I can go in there and ask for a prescription for a beta blocker or one of the other meds for performance anxiety you’ve written about in these blogs. Bells and whistles and alarms would go off. For all I know, the managed care plan might even tell my employer about it. On top of which the doc probably wouldn’t write the prescription anyway. I don’t have high blood pressure or any other condition beta blockers are normally used for. Makes me mad. What options do I have?” — Anonymous.
There was never any intention to provide a forum here in CMT for frequent discussion and critiquing of stage fright and modalities for managing performance anxiety. But, surprisingly, the posts about stage fright are among the most heavily “hit” and searched, of the 150-odd posts currently on CMT blog. And the numerous emails and comments clearly show a latent unmet need out there.
I’m not sure why this topic is ‘striking such a chord’ for CMT readers. Probably it has something to do with the fact that chamber music orchestration and small ensemble performance are so ‘open’—the individual musicians’ exposure and risk are in general greater than they are when performing in larger orchestral or choral groups; the performance venues for chamber music are specifically ones whose acoustics accentuates the intimacy and exposure; and there’s absolutely nowhere to hide, no ‘room’ for error. Every note, every nuance, every mistake will be heard. And chamber music audiences are highly attentive and critical. These features make for an ‘unforgiving’ environment—less forgiving, anyhow, than other live performance genres and venues and audiences. In fact, I suppose that this indigenous ‘high-stakes intimacy’ is part of chamber music’s thrill and appeal, for performers and composers and listeners alike.
While my own preference is to rely on deep-breathing and other non-pharmaceutical practices, there are many CMT readers who’ve sent me emails about their experiences with beta-blockers and other of the approaches that’ve been covered in the previous posts. And, recently there’ve been a number of inquiries about whether the amino acid, 5-hydroxytryptophan (5-HTP), is useful for managing or preventing stage fright. This post describes my own informal trial of 5-HTP over the past 6 months.
I originally tried 5-HTP, not because of performance anxiety but because I was having trouble staying asleep at night, due to situational stress at work. I didn’t want to use any strong prescription sleeping medications, but I’d heard that 5-HTP may help with sleeping. Then I came across the Turner and Schruers and Miller journal articles and decided to explore what 5-HTP’s effects might be on my music.
Initially, I tried the 100 mg immediate-release tablets, but the dose was too low (for me)—or possibly the immediate-release formulation allows too much of the 5-HTP to be destroyed by the acid in the stomach, and therefore I wasn’t actually getting a full 100 milligrams-worth. The rapid dissolution immediate-release also gave me some bowel upset 6 or more hours after taking the tablet. But the 200 mg extended-release formulation works well and has no G.I. side-effects for me.
The 200 mg extended-release tablets also offer a relative advantage in terms of gradual, gentler onset of action. The 5-HTP is predominantly absorbed in the small intestine, so you want the tablet to pass through the stomach relatively quickly and move on beyond, into the duodenum and jejunum. Take the tablets on an empty stomach. I take one tablet 2h prior to performance with 60 mL (2 ounces) of fruit juice or water. Then I take a second tablet 1h prior to performance, again with a small amount of juice.
The most noticeable thing for me is that my inner dialogue with myself quiets down. The aspect of pre-performance jitters that manifests itself with unspoken chatter in my mind: the internal chatter just subsides in a nice Zen-like way. My ‘edge’ is not blunted at all, but I feel more serene. Subtle, useful effect.
Very busy weeks have led me to try 5-HTP on several consecutive days. Then, the next day when I don’t take any 5-HTP, I feel a little ‘low’. There’s a bit of a ‘crash’. I’m not lethargic, not mentally dulled or distracted, not sleepy, not overtly clinically depressed. Just mildly ‘down’. (My normal delight in small good things that happen each day, where’s that? My inclination to go visit with friends, where’s that gone?) I’m back to my normal, chipper self by Day-2 or Day-3.
The experience with the ‘crash’ following multi-day use of 5-HTP makes me want to tell you that, despite the fact that 5-HTP is “just an amino acid” or “just an OTC food supplement”, it nonetheless does have medication-like properties in these doses and should be taken with a level of care and caution that would ordinarily accompany our use of any medication. Dietary supplementation with serotonin precursors (5-HTP, tryptophan, etc.) in doses sufficiently high to be effective in changing mood or performance anxiety or your emotional response to stress———is bound to change the equilibrium of the biochemical pathways and endocrine feedback loops that control serotonin metabolism—in your brain and in other organ systems. Gee—you wouldn’t expect going on and off a clinically-effective dose of SSRI to have zero side-effects, so why would you or I expect that going on and off a clinically-effective dose of 5-HTP would have zero side-effects?
In summary, 5-HTP seems to have significant efficacy for panic attacks and stage fright anxiety, as reported in recent research journal articles. Since I have only mild jitters and don’t experience severe performance anxiety myself, I can’t say whether 5-HTP is likely to work for you, those of you who have severe symptoms. And I can’t say whether its effectiveness is ‘durable’—don’t know whether significant ‘tolerance’ to 5-HTP’s effects develops if you use it continuously or for long periods; don’t know whether dose-escalation is needed to sustain efficacy with chronic use.
What I can say from my own first-hand experience is that acute, occasional 5-HTP use does seem valuable and is worth a try. It’s readily available without any prescription and it’s relatively cheap. It has only mild, transient side-effects with acute, occasional use in doses up to 400 mg. And, in my experience, its [low-dose, extended-release formulation— ] effects don’t adversely affect vision, hearing, touch, blood pressure, breathing, muscle coordination, memory, or other aspects related to music performance.
There’s no reason why 5-HTP use couldn’t be combined with one of the other stage fright prevention/treatment modalities (a beta blocker; or a vasodilator like prazosin; or an anticholinergic like biperiden or trihexyphenidyl; or an anticonvulsant like levetiracetam; or deep-breathing or biofeedback training or meditation). The mechanisms-of-action for those modalities [probably] don’t involve serotonin pathways.
The effects of the different modalities might be additive when used together—enabling you to achieve the effect that’s adequate for you at lower doses of each than would be required to achieve the same effect with either med by itself. If you’re now using 40 mg of propranolol, you might, for example, be able to do as well with 20 mg of propranolol plus 200 mg of the 5-HTP. Or maybe even 10 mg of propranolol and only 100 mg or 50 mg of the 5-HTP.
Similarly, it’s possible that using 5-HTP with deep-breathing or biofeedback or yoga or meditation may enable you to achieve the same efficacy at lower doses of the 5-HTP and lower intensities of the biofeedback exercises than would be needed if you were using one or the other of them alone.
V ajrayoginī carries a hooked knife (kartari; triguk) known as the ‘Hook of Mercy,’ the weapon of non-thought that cuts the deceptions of self-cherishing. Non-thought (togme) is the most basic expression of Vajrayoginī, for her mind is completely free from subconscious chatter and from habitual patterns that give rise to obsessive thoughts. Non-thought is a purified form of ignorance, traditionally symbolized in Buddhism by a pig. In this sādhana, the dākinī is secretly known as Vajravārāhī, and her ignorance is transformed into freedom, the wisdom of limitless space.” — Judith Simmer-Brown, p. 142.
Conversely, I think combining 5-HTP with an SSRI or with a benzodiazepine or with Risperdal or Buspar would be a distinctly bad or unsafe idea. Possible risk of ‘serotonin syndrome’ or other adverse effects.
You should not take 5-HTP if you have any of the following:
MAO inhibitor antidepressant use within the past 2 weeks;
tricyclic antidepressant use within the past 2 weeks;
SSRI antidepressant use within the past 2 weeks;
triptan antimigraine use within the past 2 weeks;
history of angina, myocardial ischemia, heart attack, cardiac arrhythmia;
pregnant;
breast-feeding;
carcinoid tumor .
The information on this page is not intended as medical advice and is not meant to be a substitute for individual medical judgment by a physician or other medical healthcare professional. The aim is to provide information and help in suggesting considerations for preventive care. The medications listed should be used only after a medical examination and under the supervision of a doctor. Always consult a licensed healthcare provider for individualized advice on your health decisions.
Click on the screenshot below to download the API (Acute Panic Inventory) questionnaire, to calculate the severity of your symptoms. You may like to keep a log of how your symptoms change over time, when you perform in different settings and when you try different approaches to manage your stage fright symptoms. The performance anxiety you experience may not properly be ‘panic attacks’ per se, but the API is probably the instrument that’s been most frequently used in longitudinal research on these sorts of symptoms. If you measure your experiences with the API and look for trends and correlations with what you’re doing to manage the symptoms, that will help you to assess what’s working and what’s not. Let me know how it goes, and I’ll continue to share things from time to time here on CMT.
