Willcowitz, the idea that art is a tangible object, sound, or movement separate from whatever effect or meaning it may have on our universe is obviously beyond you. Through various topics and posts, members of this forum have taken positions. So far, I'm not convinced that your arguments have much substance, or "concretic" value, as you like to say, other than vague philosophy, or uninformed opinions (the UN Resolution example immediately comes to mind.) You are quick to appear out of nowhere and challenge others on the most insignificant statements they might make, offer an ill formed philosophy as vague as a horoscope, then when you are asked to take a stand and defend one of your positions and offer their applicability, you claim you are just here to learn. It is a pattern I've finally noticed and it has now become tiresome and a waste of energy. I'm not upset; in fact, I like you even though we haven't met - I admire your passion and sincerity. I just think you try too hard to be profound. If you (or anyone else since so far I'm the only one) care to define art, then I encourage you to do so. My definition is consistent with those of other artists and minds much greater that I. But the strength and validity of my definition doesn't come from others, it comes from me: I am able to defend it. Not everything has to be complicated. Someone (can't remember who or the exact wording) said, "Genius is the ability to turn the complicated into the simple." You may disagree with my definition, which is fine, but offer your ideas. Can you simply define art? Anyone else? Otherwise, I'm through with that aspect of this discussion. My best to you.
Competitions are not fun. They are rewarding, but they are collectively the most exhausting experiences of my life. Performing at one can be fun, but the preparation, pressures, costs, time commitments (up to over three weeks), and uncertainties make them a challenging, and sometimes less than memorable experience, win or lose.
Local state competitions that involve one round and four or five pianists and just a few hours of time from the start of the competition to the finish are more enjoyable and can be "fun". I'm not talking about those. I'm talking about living in a small rural town in Germany for three weeks, where no one speaks English, having to arrange for transportation to and from shabby practice facilities days in advance, walking in dress shoes for miles in the hot, summer sun or in a rainstorm because the driver failed to show, eating unfamiliar food, having virtually no contact with your family and friends, having little or no access to a washer and dryer, and paying for all of this inconvenience out of your own pocket with ultimately no guarantee of success. And then there are the applications which are due a year in advance, each competition wanting quality materials (which is an additional expense), specific repertoire requirements which are different not just from round to round, but from competition to competition, forcing you to constantly juggle your repertoire (plus you might actually have real engagements during the year as well), the months of preparation, not knowing the order of performance until the last moment, the 15 minutes you get to choose and warm-up on your official competition piano, the uncertainty of the quality and maintenance of that piano (including whether or not the hall actually has air conditioning), the uncertainty as to whether the competition chamber musicians or the orchestra knows the music (or even HAS the music! Yes, this has happened to me more than once), the tension of waiting for results from round to round, and the cost of returning home early should you be eliminated early. All of this, and I haven't even mentioned the actual performance.
Now, do this about 6 or 7 seven times throughout the year, while still going to school, taking classes, holding a job, keeping a marriage together, and paying all your bills at home.
Then repeat this process for the following year. Then the following year. Then the following year. Then the..
What part of all that sounds "fun"?
m1469:
1. can one honestly say that they step to the piano in practice and in performance, for the sole purpose of art? (vs. for the purpose of the competition coming up)
Our goal should be to recreate our art to the highest standards possible. I have a standard of excellence that is unchanging. That standard and that commitment to my art and my craft is not determined by the situation I find myself in, whether it is in the practice room, at a paid engagement, playing in a bar when the regular guy takes a break, or when I play my dad's favorite pieces in a private room with him. If you keep your eye on excellence and focus your energies on your art, then all of the problems I listed above are somehow insignificant, and indeed worth it.
2. If art is truly something that comes from within us, (not that this would be my own way of describing it) couldn't you also say that the artistic manifestation could not help but reflect the intentions of playing in the up and coming competition, performance, .... and then would this truly be for the sake of art anymore? And, if not, what is it that people are then responding to when they hear, or experience your art? My guess is that it is not what it seems.
I think what you are asking really relates to how the audience or jury perceives our performance. We have no control over what people think. Most people nowadays (largely because we have cut art programs from schools) cannot distinguish between a great interpretation of Schubert and a poor one. Hell, they don't even know who Schubert is. But as I've said, we should not change ourselves or our interpretations to suit another person. That is performing. That is not artistry. But part of our artistry includes knowing how to manipulate the ear and the emotions of another person. Have you ever made yourself cry while you were practicing because what you just did was so beautiful? A special combination of elements caused that emotional reaction. So there is a technique of emotion as well, which is knowing how to move someone without being moved yourself; this is an important skill to learn. I (and others) discussed this in a thread called "Emotion in piano playing", I think. It was a while back.
Let me add here (via the modify feature) that Charles Rosen, pianist and scholar, talks about detachment. He writes that in order to move others with a piece of music, at some point we first must be moved ourselves and by the piece and discover its emotional core. Then, we can detach ourselves from the emotions and better understand how to move others. Obviously this doesn't mean that we play like a machine at our performances, just that we are able to control ourselves and present our intellectual ideas as well as the emotional. We certainly must not start crying or laughing, or become angry during a performance, but at some earlier point in learning the piece we probably should must connect with it and be overwhelmed by whatever emotions are appropriate to the work.
3. If somebody truly does step to the piano, in practice as well as performance for the sole purpose of making art, why would there be a need or even a desire to compete? What does one need from that experience that is beneficial to the art itself? (and I am not suggesting that there is nothing to be gained)
First, the obvious: we have to make a living.

But, if an artist is truly convinced that he has something of value to tell the world, then he will do what he must to put himself in a position to do so. Competitions are a tool, nothing more.
4. Aside from practicing music, we are practicing our mental state of being and how we think during our practicing of music. What is one really thinking about in preparation for a concert, competition, etc etc.? Is it really the art?
It should be the art. Now, we are human and the selfish does sometimes creep into the mind at a competition ("what would I spend the prize on, I hope so-and-so is on the jury because he likes me, I hope person A sucks so I can win, etc."). It is not important to be perfect, but we should try. If all competitors would stop worrying about who will win, and instead think of furthering great art, then competitions would be more of a celebration than a sport. Ironically, when I started exclusively focusing on the quality of my art, I started winning everything. But more importantly, I gained experience, confidence, and my connection with art became stronger.
That's my big post for the week.
Robert Henry