Episode 07: The Magic of Decision
“Every artist has specific creative procedures, his own systems, and particular methods. While creating, he both exploits his strengths and inevitably struggles with problems too. However, in addition to all that search, discovery and refinement, creation is also about the moment of DECISION.”
In the spring of 1912, Leoš Janáček created a cycle of four compositions called "In the Mists". The third of them went like this:
Of course, each pianist can interpret this piece very differently, but Janacek chose to write it this way. No other.
Every artist has specific creative procedures, his own systems, and particular methods. While creating, he both exploits his strengths and inevitably struggles with problems too. However, in addition to all that search, discovery and refinement, creation is also about the moment of DECISION. At one point, you have to decide that it's time to leave the piece as it is. You need to feel confident that this is the final shape that you have created and want to share with the world. The final piece that makes you feel whole and that gives you meaning.
Many great composers strongly believed in what they were creating, even at times when no one else believed in them. But believing in your creation does not mean stopping doubting yourself. We must not lose the desire to improve. It is vital to keep your passion in it, to never stop discovering. Doubts about our own creations are the driving force forward. Yet, it is necessary to perceive that once I consider something as a finished piece, I have to do so with the conviction that I stand firmly behind it.
Leoš Janáček often returned to already finished compositions. He edited them in various ways to improve them according to his beliefs. For example, before his Sonata for Violin and Piano was first printed, it had at least three different versions. The second movement was originally a Ballad, which he wrote as a separate piece, but decided to use it as a second part in this four-movement Sonata. Janacek himself described this Sonata like this: “It is not exactly an extraordinary work, but there is a piece of truth in it.” As an performer, I would prefer to read about how the author, whose composition I play, was convinced of the uniqueness and perfection of his work. But since this was claimed by an artist like Janáček, I am tempted to give him a pass. I know that in his case, it does not mean creation without conviction, but that it is a statement of a conscious, kind of crazy artist, who seeks purity and truth. An artist who wants to go further, who sees his limits, which he continually pushes through his diligent, continuous and passionate work.
LET THE MUSIC SURPRISE YOU
When I realized this level of "decision" - the notion that a piece is now finished, that a painting is now done, that a writer has just written a novel - it has shifted my perception of art towards even greater enjoyment.
When listening to a piece for the first time, or initially getting to know it as an artist, one of the crucial concepts for me is "curiosity". What's next? How does that melody develop? What feelings will it evoke in me? How did the author finish the piece? ... Plus, if you trust the author and his decision, then it can be quite a ride!
The Madonna of Frydek
One of Janáček's compositions, which instinctively spoke to me straight away, is The Madonna of Frydek from the cycle "On an Overgrown Path". And even though it is a short, three-page "little thing", it is only small in terms of form, not content.
I'd like to show you how just changing a single chord can completely change the direction, storyline and emotions involved. The piece begins with four chords, a short introduction. At the same time, they secretly contain much of the subsequent development of the composition. The fourth chord is, like the third, in A flat major. It brings us some peace, certainty, but at the same time, it does not close the introduction. On the contrary, it opens it and naturally takes us to the next part. That one, with its tonal centre also in A flat major, seems to paint the process further. Allowing the person to enjoy the atmosphere more deeply.
Then comes another part, which is formally the same as the previous one. However, it has a fundamentally different content. It is not yet completely dramatic, but the drama here is anticipated. In this part, there is neither peace nor certainty; on the contrary, it contains fearful expectations and tensions. And what is fascinating about this is that this was due to a single chord change! Instead of the tones A flat, C, E flat, there are A flat, D flat, F flat - D flat minor at the end of the four-chord cadence. The next part continues in the same urgent and anxious atmosphere. In the melody, the intervals change slightly due to another chord turn, but the whole form and motifs are identical.
And here comes the culmination part - the climax of the piece where I feel the hardness, fear, awareness, struggle, prayers, exhaustion and then... surrender. Surrender in the sense of faith. The kind of faith, which allows bigger things to be born, even though all human forces collapsed in an attempt to reach their limits.
At that moment, the familiar chords come again. First, second, third - how will it turn out? The third chord, extended here by the bar, represents expectation – will it end in disappointment or with relief?
Then the chord in D flat major comes. Merely changing the tone of F flat to tone F created light. Relief. Our soul has found the right path.
The rest of the composition up to the end has the same form and motifs as the previous parts. It paints a space for us to enjoy the feeling of reconciliation.