Welcome! Log in, or Join

Mahler 6: The Box

By Kate Little
November 30, 2015 12:23

At the recent performance of Mahler’s 6th by the Utah Symphony, the stage was packed with musicians and their instruments. Along with the normal string retinue of 35 violins, 12 violas, 10 cellos, and 8 base, there are something like 5 flute, 6 clarinet (of various registers); 5 bassoon (!); 8 (or was it 10?) horn; 4 trombone; 2 harp; 2 full sets of tympani & etc. & etc. About 110 musicians were crowded on the stage, and in the midst of them is a box. A Huge Box. At 5 X 5 X 5 feet cubed and situated on a riser, The Box looms over musicians seated in front and crowds others to the sides. A hammer lies across top, the head easily 12 inches in diameter. Mahler 6 is long, some hour and 20 minutes, and as the music passes continuously from instrument to instrument, The Box sits there, silently, making its presence known, forcing everyone to contend with its existence. Even the audience, first in bewilderment, then in anticipation, with anxiety building, waits and wonders.

The Box was the invention of Keith Carrick, principal percussion for Utah Symphony. Toward the end of Mahler’s 6th Symphony, the percussion part calls for a “hammer” on a particular beat. This is the entirety of notation. No indication of what to do with the hammer (throw it?) exists in the score, but an orchestral tradition has developed. Presumably Mahler himself attended the premiere rehearsals and dictated what to do: the hammer strikes a box. Presumably, again, Mahler and his inaugural percussionist discussed what the hammer strike should sound like, what the auditory effect of the sound should be, and designed a box to fit their needs. Orchestras worldwide have been designing Mahler boxes ever since. Google “mahler box image,” and you’ll find a variety. None, however, is as impressive as Keith’s: The Box asserts its existence; the listener confronted with with its silence.

Keith knew a year in advance that Mahler’s 6th was slated for performance, giving him time to research and consider his options; part of his job is knowing other orchestras’ hammer solutions. Several weeks before performance, he opened conversation with USUO Music Director and Conductor Thierry Fischer to consider musical objectives. Fischer was looking for a sound with “clack” in it, something that would carry due to embedded higher frequencies, so the sound is piercing as well as loud. In other words, no low-frequency boom box that thumps bones. At the same time, the instrument’s physical presence was to reflect the musical drama attendant its use.

Theatrical thinking and knowledge of the sound properties of various types of wood and mallets and boxes inspired a 4 X 4 X 4 plywood box. Practical considerations ensued: Production studios had 5 X 5 sheets of plywood, and rather than cut them to size (time & money!) the volume of The Box was doubled. It is open at the bottom, and low arches are cut along the lower edge, allowing sound waves to propagate, and providing stubby legs to stand on. The sides are hinged on the inside and the top comes off, allowing it to be flattened for transport and storage. A large (about 16” X 16”) thick felt square is centered on top to dampen the crack of wood-on-wood, and to serve as a target for the musician. A proportionally sized hammerhead was custom milled: light enough to be lifted overhead, yet heavy enough to drop of its own weight and produce the desired sound, without being slammed down by the musician, and without breaking through the top.

Mahler’s 6th symphony, nicknamed “The Tragic,” is big and loud and long. As a first-time listener, one feels its power cascade in waves, drama intensifying through sonic ebb and flow. The music persists in direction, destination unknown, conveying the listener with simultaneous security and anxiety. It is these feelings that Keith’s Box plays into visually and physically, as well as sonically. The design of the box and hammer were carefully considered and specifically designed with musical drama in mind. We ride this trip, trusting our conductor, enjoying the scene, yet underneath fearful that something will happen.

It does. The hammer drops. At impact, the tragedy of fate, fate beyond our control, fate that destroys the beauty of composed design and supplants it with chaos, becomes real. This is the music; this is the metaphor of Mahler’s 6th symphony. And to make this musical drama come alive, someone has to make decisions: decisions both artistic and practical, decisions both global and particular, decisions that create and shape the listeners’ experience. Art doesn’t just happen. Art takes imagination. Art takes experimentation. Art takes practice. Art takes education. Art takes conversation. Art takes work to produce, and from Keith we got The Box.

* * *

Witness the hammer blow (at 2:00) from this short excerpt of a performance of Mahler 6 by the Sydney Symphony:

You might also like:

Comments (1) | Submit Comment | Archive Link


High Tech 35 Exercises for Violin/Viola
High Tech 35 Exercises for Violin/Viola In this book, I've gathered a lot of the numerous secrets of Paganini. If you search YouTube, Eun Hwan Bai, High Tech Exercise, you can see related clips. When you try these techniques at first, it is very hard, but if you keep trying with patience, eventually you can learn great techniques: Available on Amazon

Front-page announcements on Violinist.com are paid placements. You can support the site by ordering an announcement here.

Switching to Viola: The String, Your “Road” to Great Sound!

By Jonah Sirota
November 27, 2015 07:11

Now that we are all set up, with the viola comfortably in hand (or on shoulder!), it is time to start playing, and that means producing a sound, which, as we all know, is simple, right?

It turns out that making a sound on the viola is not hard, but getting the best possible sound out of the instrument takes a bit more attention than it does on the violin. The violin is relatively forgiving--a wider range of bow technique will provide a decent sound on the violin than on the viola. The viola, however, poses some unique challenges. You may be aware that the viola is acoustically imperfect (it sounds like the setup to a viola joke, but it’s true). The violin and cello are sized correctly to resonate the range that they play. The viola (and the bass, in fact) is smaller than it should be to achieve its full acoustic potential. Both instruments would be virtually unplayable if they were the “correct” size. And, as you can imagine, it is in the low range of the viola that this “deficiency” (as some might call it) is most pronounced.

“Wait, wait, wait!!!” I hear you scream, “Isn’t this what gives the viola its distinctive, dark character?! Why would we want to play an instrument that just sounded like a lower violin?” And you know what, you would be right. The particular acoustical “compromises” that allow the viola to fit under the chin are actually a great gift. They allow for a complexity of tone, a sophisticated overtone profile that truly expresses the depth of human experience and varies like a fine wine (?), but ONLY if you can coax these depths of sound out of the instrument.

Imagine, for a moment, that your strings are like roads. The contact point--that incredibly thin centimeter of space where the bow hair actually touches the string--is where the tires of your car hit that road.

viola road

If you've ever driven a really nice car, and experienced the sensation that you could actually touch the road with your hands and feet through the feedback of the steering wheel and the pedals, you will understand how you can actually “feel” that point through your sensitive fingers (both hands!) when you play. And the more you feel the “road,” the more you become aware that each string is not the same kind of road at all.

The A string? A smooth, fast highway. Move the bow and the contact point hums along almost no matter how fast you go. No trouble keeping your “tires on the road,” no trouble following the contours of the route. This road wants to be driven on, and taken at speed. It sings under your bow.

What about the other end of the instrument, the C string? Well now, this one is a different road entirely. It is a beautiful road for sure, wooded, picturesque. But it can’t be taken at 65 mph. It would be dangerous to try! It's a dirt road with a lot of texture and grit, and you’d fly over the rocks and pebbles, without gaining any real footing (and you might even end up in a ditch). But also, why would you want to go so fast on it? This is a road that begs to be taken slowly. Open the windows, smell the flowers, drink in the scenery! And enjoy that sensation that you can still feel the road under your tires, the road is providing real resistance and forcing you to slow down, to engage with it.

It may be a funny analogy, but it’s apt. Of course, as a violinist, you can appreciate that there is a similar difference between the violin’s E and G strings. But on the viola the difference is more extreme. And that matters, because although you can take the C string at “violin G string” speed and attention to detail--and you will get a relatively decent sound—it will be like driving down a pretty country road at 30 mph: you are bound to miss some things that you might notice at a slower speed, that Robin up in the tree, a deer hiding behind a bush. Those are the extra details that make the viola sound its best.

OK, how to actually accomplish this.

First of all, when we speak about getting weight into the string on the viola, it means real weight, actual weight. As in, the weight of your arm. If you’ve never thought about it before, lift up your right arm as if you were about to put bow to string, then have a friend put his or her hands under your arm and drop that weight into those hands. I mean it, drop it like dead weight. Your arm, when you don’t spend extra energy holding it up, is actually quite heavy. (mostly water, you know…). If you can direct that dead weight to the contact point (where the tires meet the road, remember?), that’s a LOT of power available to you with minimal work.

IN FACT, your main job in all of this is to direct that weight to the point where you want it to go. As simple as this seems, that means a couple of not obvious things: first, you need to know where you want it to go, and second, you need to KEEP it there.

So, let’s address each of these in turn. Where do you want this weight to go? You want the weight of your arm to be directed to the contact point that fits the speed of the bow you want to use. Simply put, you have to stay in the correct lane. Just as you shouldn’t speed past a slow truck on the right, you shouldn’t try to pull a fast bow right up against the bridge. What happens? Right, you get that telltale ponticello sound, full of high overtones but lacking depth. (of course, if you’re looking for ponticello sound then that’s exactly what you should do!). What if, however, you slowed your bow to a crawl, and let the resistance of the string close to the bridge tug on your bow as you work to keep a consistent spin in the string? You can get a beautifully alive sound! At a point very close to the bridge, you could get this sound to last for 12-15 seconds or more in a single bow, and there are times that you may want to move the bow this slowly even when you don’t have to. If you want to move the bow faster, then of course you will move your bow further out from the bridge, but here is where you will need to be careful (!) On the viola, you will get some sense of lightness and easy ring out close to the fingerboard with a speedy bow. But that sound, especially on the lower strings, can be too transparent. In a hall, a sound produced out there will create a wash of sound with very little definition and center to it, even though it may sound perfectly good under your ear. Sometimes you will need to go a touch closer to the bridge than your intuition will dictate, because of the acoustic “imperfection” of the instrument. This will mean a slower bow speed and also a sense under your ear of a little more texture in the sound than you may be accustomed to on the violin. Each instrument is different, and you will need to either record yourself at some distance from the instrument or play for a trusted friend sitting a ways away to know for sure, but usually the slight grittiness of a centered sound on the C string will go away only a few feet from the viola, leaving a sound with beautiful richness, depth, and a penetrating quality really necessary to get that register to speak at its clearest. Most violinists switching to viola err on the side of too far from the bridge, not too close. Also, notice that I didn't say that you need to lay huge amounts of weight in the string to play right up against the bridge. You will need only minimal weight to play piano or pianissimo there, but you can still get a beautiful sound.

Now for the other part of our equation, keeping the weight where you want it. The shoulder is our largest bow arm hinge, and it creates a big challenge. Tracking a good sound requires keeping the contact point you want through the entire length of the bow, creating a straight line. But the arc of our arm moving from the shoulder is a curve! We don’t want our bow to curve over the strings at all. So, mathematically speaking, we need to find the counter-shape to that curve in order to end up with a straight line. In practice, this means that in order to play with a straight bow, maintaining a contact point from frog to tip, it will feel as though you are bowing with a slight reverse curve, to counteract the natural arc of the arm. This is the curve that starts at the frog with your right hand balanced to the back of the hand and wrist tilted a bit to the right, and ends out at the tip with the wrist curved to the left (and pronated as well) and the arm stretching out more to the front than to the side. It helps to imagine this curve like a cardboard cutout of a half moon lying flat on the strings with the curved edge constantly hugging the resistance of the bridge throughout the stroke.

Last time we talked about having a setup that allows your viola and your bow arm to both leave the torso at 45 degrees. It is in the moment of producing sound at the contact point that the benefits of this approach become clear. We are able to more easily create this consistent contact point with the instrument slightly in front of us, because our right arm can more easily reach out to meet it while maintaining the “reverse curve” if the instrument isn’t too far over to the left. This setup helps maintain a good “arm geometry,” something that will look natural and comfortable in the mirror. The other elements to arm geometry are keeping your right elbow at the right height for each string so that when you play, your elbow hinge is able to do most of the work (as in a detaché stroke in the middle of the bow, which is almost entirely hinged from the elbow). Sometimes violists drop their elbows too low to be able to use this hinge, thinking that a low elbow level will allow them to drop more weight into the string. If you maintain a bit of structure in your wrist as you play, you should be able to keep your elbow at a good height while simultaneously letting your arm weight drop from the shoulder. The string itself, and your engaged wrist, will hold your elbow up!

One last item to consider as you work to keep a vital contact point is the role of the fingers of the right hand in directing arm weight into the contact point. The string is on a gentle downwards slope from the bridge. If your bow-arm weight is directed straight down, the contact point will be likely to slide “down the hill” away from the bridge sooner or later. But if you use the engaged fingers of the right hand to gently pull the weight inwards, towards the bridge, it will help you maintain whatever contact point you choose. Another way to think of this is that the sensitive fingers of the right hand are constantly feeling and re-discovering whatever amount of string resistance you are looking for (staying on their road!)

The road to good viola playing is paved with… whatever you want it to be! On your journey towards making the viola your own, make sure that whichever road (or string) you happen to chose, that you stay and enjoy the ride! Next time: "Help! I’m tense about my tension!"

You might also like:

Comments (6) | Submit Comment | Archive Link

Living with Fifths: The Counter-Intuitive Approach

By Paul Stein
November 26, 2015 08:29

I needed a large dose of counter-intuition to learn how to play fifths. For years I dreaded them, since they were at the top of the list of intimidating double stops, which I already dreaded.

I was trying to remember which violin teacher taught me to be counter-intuitive. I don’t remember anyone telling me to do the exact opposite of everything I had ever done. (Fortunately, anyone who watched Seinfeld remembers George Costanza saying it about himself.) That’s a tricky lesson to learn. While it sounds rather insulting, following George’s advice actually hits the nail on the head.


Of course, not all lessons are so complicated, and a few bear repeating before I explore fifths. For example:

  1. Don’t make the conductor mad. (My violin teacher in high school was also the conductor of the orchestra. Thanks for that lesson.)
  2. Play poker during the break of every rehearsal. It clears the mind and focuses your attention.
  3. Make your bow reflect your ear. Each leads the other; each reins in the other. (The teacher that told me that plays with beautiful phrasing.)

Now, back to fifths:

Plan A: Don’t Do the First Thing That Comes to Mind

Here is what I did when I wasn’t thinking: Put a finger on one of the strings and burrow my way onto the adjacent string. The burrowing was pathetic, and like a weasel crawling below the earth, my finger was making a mess.

My approach to the fingerboard was with a slanted finger, and slanted fingers aren’t very adept at making a strong placement on two strings. Without exception, the finger would slide around and slip under the string. If it was in tune, that was sheer luck. Many times, the undisciplined finger would even pull the string from below. Even then, I’d get lucky 3% of the time and be in tune.

Being a weasel and burrowing under and over the strings clearly wasn’t an acceptable solution. What would Plan B comprise of? How different would it be from Plan A?

Plan B: Mind Games and Free-Association

Learning fifths correctly involved not just doing the exact opposite of what I was doing (whatever that would be!) but finding something different, yet very specific. To find a solution to something that had plagued me for years required lots of random experimentation. I’ve learned to free-associate during this process, to allow my mind to think freely about every mundane or non-related thing that enters my thoughts. This technique of exploration allows the mind to open itself to all possibilities, and to rid it of the same-old, wrong perception of how to play fifths.

Even Thin Fingers Can Play Fifths

After many years of being taught to place fingers squarely on top of each string for single tones, a young violinist is suddenly required to play a fifth. Since this goes against everything he’s ever been taught, it’s natural to want to burrow over and under adjacent strings. It doesn’t help that he has to play two strings at once, a bowing skill that he may not feel comfortable with.

Once I realized what needed to be done, I found myself doing counter-intuitive things.

This is what I do now when I’m playing fifths and consciously thinking:

  1. Place the finger on top of the two strings, in the same square fashion as if I were playing on only one string. I make sure that my hand has moved into a different position, either farther to the left or to the right, to accommodate and acclimate my hand to where the two strings are. Placing the finger squarely means that it is parallel to the bridge and the nut, not slanted or oblique. Fortunately, strings are very close together, and even thin fingers placed on top of the strings successfully create a parallel bridge. Just remind yourself to not place the finger between the strings, but on top.

    (One of the most common errors is that the hand places itself around one string instead of two strings. Tiny increments, measured in millimeters and fractions, make all the difference in the world of the violin.)

  2. Test the quality of the finger being placed in terms of it being perfectly parallel to the fingerboard. If the notes are out of tune, its placement is off. Lift the finger, and try a slightly different angle. Once you’ve used trial and error a few times, it will become obvious which one is in tune. Remember not only how the correct way feels, but also how the incorrect ways feel. You’ll avoid those in the future.
  3. Burrowing and crawling around the fifth just creates haphazard intonation and raised and stretched strings. A far more assertive placement, straight down on top of two strings, brings to mind a quick, firm movement, like a quick reflex without time to second-guess yourself. It is a Neanderthal placement, strong and decisive. It works because the squareness of the finger across the fingerboard has already been incorporated, through trial and error, into the player’s mind.

In case you’re still out of tune after carefully squaring the finger and the hand, the solution is rather simple. Determine if you’re flat or sharp, and make the necessary adjustment while maintaining a perfectly square, Neanderthal firmness of the finger position. With proper alignment, the notes will either be exactly in-tune, or if they’re out -of-tune, both notes of the fifth will be off in the exact same proportion.

Those days of weasling around and under the strings, when one note would be in tune and the other part of the fifth would be off, and then vice-versa ad-nauseum, will be over.

You might also like:

Submit Comment | Archive Link

The Week in Reviews, Op. 108: Hilary Hahn, Isabelle Faust, Jennifer Koh

By Laurie Niles
November 25, 2015 14:44

In an effort to promote the coverage of live violin performance, Violinist.com each week presents links to reviews of notable concerts and recitals around the world.

Hilary Hahn performed the Dvorak with the Baltimore Symphony.

  • Baltimore Sun: "In addition to her usual, impeccable intonation and articulation, the violinist offered phrasing rich in shading and poetic contour. Her tone was wonderfully juicy in the first movement, sweet and delicate in the second; the finale inspired a prismatic touch. I was even more impressed with Hahn's encore -- the Loure from Bach's Partita No. 3. She seemed to hold the packed house rapt as she sculpted the stately dance in extraordinarily elegant fashion."
  • The Washington Post: "Hahn remains one of the greatest violinists in the world. The musical architecture is worked out to the millimeter; the flawless brilliance of her top register dazzles the ear; the rock-steady control of rhythm and accents makes everything seem natural and inevitable, and the cleanliness of her bow arm puts a little sparkle on each note. All of this was fully present in the Dvorak, but there were tiny slips here and there that were uncharacteristic."

Hilary Hahn
Hilary Hahn. Photo © Michael Patrick O'Leary.

Isabelle Faust performed the Berg with the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

  • Boston Musical Intelligencer: "...she didn’t put on the flashy, oversized tone of many a violin superstar, but chose a measured tone with a steely core that cut through BSO brass outbursts that have swamped over many a lesser musician. She had technique to burn, making Berg’s fiendishly difficult leaps, rhythmic variation, and frequent triple stopping sound fluid and effortless."
  • Boston Globe: "...the performance of the Berg did not speak with the full lapel-grabbing force this music is capable of mustering. But the evening’s fine soloist, Isabelle Faust, delivered an account whose hushed reveries and cool colors had a beauty all their own."

Jennifer Koh performed the Nielsen with the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra.

  • The Buffalo News: "There are meltingly lovely melodies and Koh, stunning in a long gown of gunmetal blue, played them with warmth and imagination. Her intonation is wonderful. She can repeat a simple phrase and give it a different mood the second time around. As she navigates quick passages, her head bobs and her hair flies. She even broke strings. Good theater!"

Renaud Capuçon performed Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1 with the Cincinnati Symphony.

  • Cincinnati Enquirer: "Capuçon delivered a breathtaking performance of Bruch’s Violin Concerto in G Minor. He played with a big, romantic sound and beautiful line from the outset. The violinist poured intensity into each phrase, often turning to communicate with the orchestra, as if playing chamber music."

Jonathan Carney performed and conducted the Brahms with the Pennsylvania Sinfonia Orchestra.

  • The Morning Call: "One could tell things were going to sound special from the very first movement, as Carney skillfully built up the slow, curvaceous opening gesture into a full-bodied crescendo. Although the pure, compact sound of Carney’s violin could make itself heard when it wanted to, a few phrases got buried by the church’s not-so-ideal acoustics. Nevertheless there was plenty of detail to be heard, and the extended cadenza was masterful, chock full of finely shaped trills and virtuosic embellishment."

Elena Urioste performed the Sibelius with the Tucson Symphony Orchestra.

  • Green Valley News: "Her reading of the Sibelius 'Violin Concerto' was incredibly virtuosic in the allegro first movement, and sonorously heartfelt in the Adagio, where the soul of the piece lies."

Leonidas Kavakos performed the Sibelius with the Philadelphia Orchestra.

  • Philadelphia Inquirer: "It was terrific to hear Leonidas Kavakos in the Sibelius Violin Concerto - it is, in fact, terrific to hear him in anything. That immediately present tone that toggles so easily between secure whispering and secure meatiness was all there. Interpretively, he sometimes failed to go deep, especially in the first movement, whose layers of meaning offer tremendous riches to risk-takers."

Karen Gomyo performed Philip Glass' Violin Concerto No. 1 with the Dallas Symphony.

  • D Magazine: "Gomyo is well-suited for this piece. She plays it with a perfect combination of agility and delicacy. She’s also a great collaborator, blending beautifully with the ensemble and never forcing solo sections into unnecessary showcases of virtuosity."
  • The Dallas Morning News: "Karen Gomyo was as compelling a soloist as could be imagined, dispatching the busy figurations with pizzazz, pinpointing high pitches with laser accuracy."

Please support music in your community by attending a concert or recital whenever you can!

Comments (9) | Submit Comment | Archive Link

More top blog entries from Violinist.com members