My PASIC session will consist of a performance of my own compositions. This music is sometimes described as being “neo-romantic”; therefore I decided to title the session “Marimba Romanticism.”

The performance will focus primarily on etudes for solo marimba. These etudes are part of my project to compose a cycle of 24 of such works, one in each chromatic key. Despite the title of “etude,” these pieces are not mere technical exercises; each of them is a short musical moment of its own.

I will give a brief presentation regarding my general approach towards music technically and artistically, how I approach composing for the marimba, the benefits of making adaptations, transcriptions and arrangements for the marimba, and how it has affected me compositionally and as a performer. I will also discuss the reasons why I play sitting down and, if time permits, open the floor for questions.

Since time is limited at PASIC presentations, I will only be touching briefly on technical issues towards marimba playing. Therefore, I will provide a more detailed explanation here.

No matter how complex and/or difficult a piece is, all we are doing physically is a combination of different kinds of strokes. I have always believed in a three-step approach towards every note:

1. Think of the sound you want to produce;
2. Make it happen with your hands;
3. Listen and check if the sound you are producing matches what you imagined.

Conceptually, this seems very simple, but in the frenzy of playing coupled with stage fright, one can easily forget steps 1 and 3.

Aside from these steps, there is also a systematic approach towards different kinds of strokes and ways we can draw different tone colors out of the marimba. My approach is largely based on what I learned about timpani playing during my studies with Don Liuzzi, Principal Timpanist of the Philadelphia Orchestra. My other past teachers, Michael Udow and Nancy Zeltsman, also helped me clarify various applications of these concepts in playing and in teaching.

First, we have three stroke types: up, down and full. Second, we have five basic levels of stroke speeds: military, assertive, normal, relaxed, and slow-motion. Military is the most aggressive and quickest; slow-motion is the most relaxed and slowest, similar to a Tai-chi approach.

In my experience, the slow-motion stroke is most useful for developing a physical feel for the connection between notes and horizontal motions on the instrument. Third, we have five basic levels of stroke weight, utilizing the control and natural weight of different body parts: fingers, wrist, forearm, whole arm, and body. We use fingers for easy control over the most delicate passages, and when the music calls for it, we can throw our body-weight onto the instrument for those special peasante moments.

A simple exercise would be to practice scales with combinations of these three
stroke aspects. It is important to constantly listen to what kind of sounds and tones
each stroke combination produces in order for us to physically and mentally absorb these different strokes into our instincts and utilize them when the music calls for it. In addition, we can also draw out different tone colors by playing on different parts of the bar. The key is to have the least possible amount of tension in your body, especially in your hands, arms, and shoulders. And keep your mallets as low as possible, or as high as musically necessary. Speed is almost an addiction for a lot of people, but it is important to remember that technique is only for the purpose of serving the music. One only needs to play as fast or as slow as the music calls for. To develop fast hands, one simply needs to listen, be aware of the sounds and tones one is producing (and how they are being produced), stay relaxed, and be aware of mallet heights and unnecessary motions that have no affect on sound.

Pius Cheung

An article written by Pius Cheung
appearing on Percussive Notes, August/September 2009 Issue

Playing Bach is one of the most controversial subjects for performers today. There are constant arguments about what the ‘correct’ way to play Bach is. In recent years, many people seem to be very concerned with whether or not a Bach performance is ‘baroque’, and if it is not, it is bad. The issue of whether or not it is justifiable to perform Bach on modern instruments seem to be never resolved. On one hand, there are the music purists who believe it is an absolute sin to play Bach on anything but ‘authentic’ period instruments, and that it is crucial to play Bach in a ‘baroque’ way; but on the other hand, there are those who believes one could only do Bach’s music justice by performing them on modern/more developed instruments, and takes more flexibility with the performance style. To me it is very hard to define what is ‘baroque’ and what is ‘romantic’. These terms were created mainly for the purpose of keeping clarity for studying music history. Of course, it is crucial to research about the composer’s era and its performing traditions, but I think it is also very important to keep in mind that for a performer, research is for the sake of performance. One should be careful not to cross the line when you are playing in a way just to be ‘correct’ or to make a point that you have done your homework.

Though I very much respect performances of the ‘authentic’ or ‘baroque’ Bach interpreters, I have to be honest that I am more moved emotionally by performances or recordings that are more flexible or less ‘correct’ in accordance to modern day scholarship. Interpretations of Bach by those such as Edward Aldwell, Pablo Casals, Glenn Gould, Mtislav Rostapovich, and Andras Schiff, all of whom I think has/had (some of the above mentioned has already passed away) very deep understanding of Bach performance traditions, but are/were willing to occasionally step over the line and risk being scholastically ‘incorrect’, has touched me the most.

Part of the reason why I think performing Bach is so controversial is that the music itself is very controversial. He belonged to a time when music was very diatonically contained, and yet at times, he was using composition techniques that are far more advanced/complex than anyone of his era, such as Vivaldi or Teleman. Take Variation 25 from the Goldberg Variations for instance. This variation is essentially in g minor, but by the second bar, Bach already modulated into f minor. Chromaticism and complexity in tonality like that did not exist until composers like Chopin or Wagner. In fact, during his time Bach’s music was sometimes criticized for being too complicated, and that one cannot follow what key or meter the music is in; and also there are too many voices happening at the same time. I suspect that is why nowadays there are constant disputes about Bach interpretations. Inside the 17th/18th century shell of Bach’s music, there are elements that belong more in the 19th century.

As far as arranging Bach’s music for the marimba, I dare not say something like, “I believe if the marimba existed in Bach’s time, he would have written music for it.”, or “If Bach was arranging his own music for the marimba, this is what he would have done…”; but I do believe it is justifiable to play Bach on modern instruments.

If I were to break down music into five elements, they would be: Form, Rhythm, Counterpoint, Harmony, and Sound. Form, the general contour or structural blueprint of an entire piece. Rhythm, music in the horizontal sense time-wise. Counterpoint, music in the horizontal sense pitch-wise. Harmony, music in the vertical sense. Sound, meaning orchestration/instrumentation, dynamic, tempo, articulation, etc. Form is of utmost importance to all composers, but as for the other four elements, different composers stress on them differently. To me, Bach stresses on rhythm, counterpoint, and harmony, more than on sound. His music is compositionally perfect in a technical or mathematical sense. Though Bach definitely had thorough knowledge of orchestration/instrumentation technique, if one were to compare his music with the works of composers such as Stravinsky or Debussy, the element of tone/instrument color is not as important. Also, although markings of dynamics, articulations, tempi, etc., are minimal mostly because it is the common compositional practice of his time, I cannot help but think that Bach in a way did that intentionally to give performers more flexibility. In music that is so perfect formally, rhythmically, contrapuntally, and harmonically, I feel it will always be able to shine in different tone colors, dynamics, tempi, articulations, and phrasings.

Also, let us not forget Bach himself arranged his own music for different instruments frequently. For example, his keyboard concertos (BWV 1052-1057) were originally violin concertos. His violin sonata in a minor, BWV 1003, and Adagio from his violin sonata in C major, BWV 1005, were later arranged for the keyboard by Bach himself. His lute suite in g minor, BWV 995, is a transcription of his cello suite in c minor, BWV 1011. There is also the Art of Fugue which he did not even specify what instrument(s) it is intended for.

In a way, I think Bach’s music does not belong on any real instruments. I feel it is so ‘pure’ that it goes beyond the reality and actuality of sound.

Goldberg Variations is the fourth part to Bach’s Klavierbung (Keyboard Practice). Although the validity is disputable, it is believed that this piece was commissioned by Count Herrmann Carl won Keyserlingk for his resident harpsichordist, Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, who was a student of Bach’s. It was intended to lift the Count’s spirits during his sleepless nights. It is said that Bach received a golden goblet filled with 100 louis d’or for this composition.

This piece consists of an Aria and 30 variations with the Aria returning at the end of the piece. The variations are not melodic or motivic variations, but rather they are based on the bass line and/or the harmonic structure of the Aria, which in essence is a sarabande. The variations can be divided into groups of threes, consisting of one free movement (most likely a dance movement); a virtuosic toccata (with the exception of Variation 2); and a canon. (A canon is a composition technique in which one voice starts, and another enters later on top of it, imitating the first voice throughout the entire composition.) There are nine canons total in the Goldberg Variations, the first of which (Var. 3) is a canon in unison, second (Var. 6) is a canon in seconds, and so on, all the way up to the ninth canon (Var. 27) which is a canon in ninths. The last variation (Var. 30) would have been a canon in tenths if Bach had kept to his organizational scheme of the previous variations; but instead, he decided to change it into a quodlibet, contrapuntal hotchpotch of popular tunes during his time. In this last variation, Bach shows us his humorous side. An example of some of the original words of the two popular tunes he used are: Ich bin so lang bei dir micht g’weat, which translates to “It is so long since I have been at your house”; and Kraut und Ruben haben mich ver tricbenI, which translates to “Cabbage and turnips have driven me away. If my mother had cooked some meat, I might have stayed longer.”.

Playing the Goldberg Variations on the marimba is incredibly difficult. In arranging it for the marimba, I tried to do as little as possible. Most of what I did (except for Var. 28) was just taking some bass notes that are out of the marimba’s range up an octave, and modifying/adding/eliminating some of the ornamentations. Some of the tempi that I took are a little slower than what is commonly heard on the piano or harpsichord, but I do not think that would diminish the beauty of this architecturally perfect monument by one of the greatest geniuses in western music history.

Pius Cheung
2006