I must admit that I’ve always been interested in electronic pianos, not so much for the piano sound but because as they developed they offered a range of sounds not available up to that time. That annoyed my old music teacher, who was very traditional in many ways and hated the fact that I could play Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor on something that sounded like a cross between a brass instrument and some percussive instrument of no fixed abode. Of course I could see his point, but to me the ability to experiment with different sounds was rather exciting at the time.
These days electronic keyboards can mimic virtually anything, but as I’ve mentioned previously in this blog they will never totally (I hope!) replace the real thing.
But that’s not the point of this exercise. This evening I played at a Mass with my son in a church where we have played a number of times over the past few years. I played keyboard (electronic, of course) and he played soprano saxophone (well, of course).
However, the church has installed a new sound system and mixer (which we were not allowed to touch) but in doing so have completely screwed up the entire sound balance. Whereas before I could play the keyboard at a high volume setting and hear what I was playing, this time if I tried that setting I deafened the entire church and eventually had to settle for a very low volume setting on the keyboard so that the congregation didn’t suffer tinnitus or other form of permanent hearing loss.
This meant that I couldn’t hear what I was playing since the other instruments, choir and congregation (when they sang) drowned out the sound from the keyboard. So one part of the normal musical feedback loop – brain, fingers, keyboard, sound, ears and back to brain – was missing, and I must admit it was very disconcerting. I had to imagine what I playing – and hope like anything that what I was playing in my mind was indeed what was coming out of the speakers.
An ‘acoustic’ piano (in the sense of an acoustic vs electric guitar) doesn’t have that problem since the pianist is normally close enough to the piano to hear what is coming back. But it makes me wonder how deaf musicians can actually play and understand what they are doing – Beethoven is the obvious example here. Blind people can feel, but they still hear. Deaf people cannot hear, but they must be able to feel.
My eyesight problems have certainly been the focus (pun intended) of my thoughts for a while now, but considering the problems I had tonight I’m of the view that given a choice between the two I would rather hear than see. As a musician, a silent world would be close to unbearable. I would rather hear a Stuart piano than see one – pleasurable though both aspects may be.
How did I actually play? My son told me it was the best I’d played in a while. I don’t know whether to believe him or not – but there are occasions when he does have quite a sophisticated sense of humour. My fault, I suppose.