A quick glance at the notes tells me that they present a new pattern, a new mental effort that is required of me. Perhaps I should go back and improve on the previous pages instead as usual? It feels a safer option, and guarantees a quick reward of beautiful music. But I can’t fool myself that I need to spend all the practice time for today on old material.
I eye the first cord for the right hand again; single it out from the notes around it. I know how to play it; it follows the rules of the piece as can be expected. By itself, it looks vulnerable and can’t resist my attempt at playing it. I rest my left hand and press the keys, and the sound provides me with a small amount of reassurance. Having nothing to lose, I move my hand the short distance to the next note and then the next cord. The sounds released make sense, as part of a mathematical formula that will solve my problem. I finish the beat with my right hand and immediately have an urge to repeat it.
I am consciously playing note by note, cord by cord while reading the sheet music. I feel relieved that there is no technical difficulty that prevents my hand from playing the beat from start to end, slowly. I think of the masterful version played by Zimerman and compare the few seconds of music from this section to what I just produced. It sounds nothing like it. I start imagining how this music was conceived; it would be like outlining Mona Lisa with a few pencil strokes and already knowing what the end result will look like - a near impossible task, unless you are a genius of course.
I play the notes again a third time, and the hand seems eager to follow my directions. I can feel the synapses aligning themselves in my mind as the hand repeats the effort over and over. It feels like I am lifting small weights with a mental muscle. I wait for the moment where my right hand releases itself from my conscious mind and can repeat the string of notes by itself.
With increased confidence I look at the notes in the left hand, they are few and far apart. Good. I play them with ease the first time and immediately try to combine hands. The small amount of pace I picked up in the right hand is quickly slowed back down as I attempt to time the left hand. A few mistakes in the right hand remind me that it needs my help again, and I focus on the visual pattern of how it moves between the keys.
The difference from looking at the notes and looking down at my hand is great, but I know that this mental leap of confidence is essential to being able to play at high speed. I repeat the notes slowly with both hands and feel my conscious mind taking a back seat again. The repetitive melody puts me in a slight trance as I play it over and over. I am convinced I could drive a healthy person to the brink of insanity by playing this short melody a sufficient number of times.
It is starting to feel good again, the mental weight lifting has produced a stronger muscle in my brain and I am able to enjoy the effortless playing that I will want to come back to many times. The speed is picking up and I am amazed at how my conscious mind can drift away to other places while the melody is played faster and faster. My hands have stored the instructions for how to play this beat somewhere between the fingertips and the wrists, and are starting the permanent imprinting of this pattern in my mind while I continue to repeat it.
There is joy in being able to hit the keys correctly again and again, and each hand gesture feels more natural each time. I know I have to keep repeating the beat even when it feels like I have nothing more to learn, since my memory of it will fade before I sit here again. The more I repeat it today, the less time I have to spend to wake up my hands again tomorrow.
I look at the next beat and realize that it is a slight variation of what I have been playing more than a hundred times already. Am I getting this one almost for free? Excited, I start playing it and adjust for the timing difference in the left hand. It is easy to remember and I imagine that a minimum of two beats are required for the listener to be aware of and enjoy the melody before it is gone. I start repeating the trance ritual which is now twice as long and the nuances in the second beat are enough to keep me entertained for another hundred repetitions.
I feel a sense of achievement as I have taken two steps closer to being able to play this grand achievement by the master of Romantic composition. I casually look at the following beat and feel slightly intimidated by the difference in its pattern of notes. I refrain from making even the slightest attempt at trying to play it and know that I still have a lot of work to do with what I have learned today before it will flow like water down a stream. It can wait until another day; I am going to enjoy the fruits of my labor before I go back to work.
Topic: The mental process of learning two beats of Chopin