Of all the rags I’ve played of Joplin’s, A Breeze From Alabama is the hardest and hippest.

If the novelty of ragtime still exists today, it’s in the first three measures; I lose the beat every time I hear it!



It has some pretty difficult octave passages:



Where most of Joplin’s rags cover one, or sometimes two neighboring keys, A Breeze From Alabama starts in C major, modulates suddenly to Ab major, has a short section in B major, a transition to F major and then ends back in C major. That’s pretty “outside the box” for Joplin!



The transitions are pretty hip too:





I love this rag; check it out!

Here’s a link to part 7.

Quick recap: When it comes to playing solo piano, I’m always wrestling with physical issues, aesthetical issues with audiences and subsequently, issues getting gigs.

I decided to pursue solo piano for a number of reasons. One reason was because of its lack of representation. What do you think the ratio is between ensemble jazz pianists versus solo jazz pianists? How many jazz pianists have released more solo records than ensembles records? My guess is that it’s very unbalanced. I see an opportunity; there’s a void to be filled!

Side Note: Why is it unbalanced? Is the community to blame? The pianists? The listeners? The business? The tradition?

I’ve come to terms with many of the aesthetical issues surrounding solo piano. I mentioned previously that I can’t change listeners’ interests and that all I can do is share mine. But then again, maybe I can change their interests…

From part 6: “Could a Joe ever become a Bob? Whose job is it to convert him?”

If Joe represents an individual, then no, I don’t think he can ever change. But if Joe represents the culture or community, then yes, change is possible…gradual change. After my performance at Hermann’s in Victoria BC in October, I had a number of listeners comment that they wished Hermann’s would host more solo piano performances. That’s a start!

It was a magical evening; solo pianists can make powerful impressions. My hope is for students to pursue the glory of solo piano, as I am.

You can expect much more solo piano from me in the coming years!

Thanks for reading!

Here’s a link to part 6.

Quick recap: When it comes to playing solo piano, I’m always wrestling with physical issues, aesthetical issues with audiences and subsequently, issues getting gigs.

In July 2008 I participated in the Nottingham National Jazz (Solo) Piano Competition. Twenty minutes before we performed in the final round, we were each notified that we had to alter our predetermined programs to include a blues. The judges were sending a message: Solo jazz pianists should be adaptable and spontaneous. I was very disappointed; their aesthetic undoubtedly contradicted my own.

Solo pianists have the freedom and luxury to access a vastly wide spectrum of musical vocabulary and repertoire. I consider adaptability and spontaneity a means to an end. More ironically, I consider them limitations, both physically and aesthetically. Besides, what use is adaptability when you have no ensemble to adapt to? What use is spontaneity when it would spoil a perfect score?

Of course to a certain degree, adaptability and spontaneity are important skills for solo pianists. I always need to adapt to the piano, the room, the audience and their energy. But judges requiring a last minute substitution of a blues to test adaptability assume a very shallow view of adaptability, especially in a solo piano setting.

Side note: The Nottingham judges also criticized me for sounding “too Classical.” Their aesthetic undoubtedly and severely contradicted my own!

Stay tuned for Part 8!

Here’s a link to part 5.

Quick recap: When it comes to playing solo piano, I’m always wrestling with physical issues, aesthetical issues with audiences and subsequently, issues getting gigs.

The following sums up many of the aesthetical issues; Peter Hum received this message from an Ottawa Jazz fan (I’ll call him Joe):

“Should I go to Paradiso Saturday evening?  Do you think Chris will play anything different? As good as his solo work is, I've heard it enough - his CD, last gig at Paradiso, and the JazzWorks fundraiser. I await your guidance.”

Peter asked for a response from me and I wrote:

“Listeners may be interested and find enjoyment in every facet of music-making. This could include process, evolution, creation and re-creation. I can’t change their interests; all I can do is share mine.”

For some people, there isn’t enough variety in solo piano performances (no matter how good you are!). For others, spontaneity is the highest virtue, and there isn’t enough variety in written/prepared music (especially after the second or third listen!). When I started exploring solo piano, I predicted that I would encounter listeners like Joe. Of course, if I were exploring trio music, I’d encounter listeners like Bob. You can’t please everybody.

My experience has shown me that, there are more Joes than there are Bobs in the jazz community. Many clubs aren’t interested in solo piano. If they are, then they’re often only interested in one short set or an opening set. Before I released ‘Solo,’ I spoke to a record company who was interested in working with me, but only if I was releasing a trio record. They told me that solo piano records are more successful if they’re released by artists who already have a reputation for playing in ensembles. Apparently, that’s how it’s “usually done.”

Here are two good questions: Could a Joe ever become a Bob? Whose job is it to convert him?

In the meantime, my marketing plan is simple: Find the Bobs; ignore the Joes.

Stay tuned for Part 7!

Here’s a link to part 4.

Quick recap: When it comes to playing solo piano, I’m always wrestling with physical issues, aesthetical issues with audiences and subsequently, issues getting gigs.

Another physical issue is regarding multi-tasking, which I’ve written about here and here.

It’s physically impossible for humans to multitask. In this performance, Keith’s focus isn’t on his left-hand…at least not while he’s being creative in his right.



Brad Mehldau is another good example. Have a closer listen when you think his hands sound totally independent; one hand is on autopilot playing an ostinato, some arpeggio pattern or a rhythmic filer. What’s impressive is that the autopilot lasts for very short durations!



As I said in previous posts, playing written music and prepared music is my way of building a vocabulary for improvisation and often deals with hand independence and the issue of multi-tasking. Once I learned about this physical limitation, approaching solo piano was much less daunting.

Stay tuned for part 6!

Here’s a link to part 3.

Quick recap: When it comes to written music and improvised music, I try to make the best with both worlds.

The question I ask in “Which is More Impressive?” is a bit loaded. Both options are honourable undertakings that require serious discipline and have their own set of challenges. But besides building vocabulary, there’s another reason why performing written music is important to me.

Through studying written music, I’ve gained an appreciation and often strive for a perfect realization in a score. A perfect score means that every music-making material is in perfect synchronicity with one’s tastes. Personally, if I consider a score perfect, I wouldn’t dare waiver from the written music; it doesn’t require any amount of improvisation or embellishment; it’s perfect just the way it is! It just requires execution.

Side Note: Striving for a perfect realization has implications for composing too, but these posts will only deal with performing.

My experience as a solo pianist has shown that performing written music or heavily prepared music poses some problems. I’m always wrestling with physical issues, aesthetical issues with audiences and subsequently, issues getting gigs. I’d like to reflect on these in the next few posts.

Beginning with a physical issue:

Performance repertoire that’s written or heavily prepared requires maintenance. And harder music means more maintenance. Memory fades! Maintenance is unavoidable, but there are things you can do to minimize it. Here are my answers to Peter’s questions:

“I wish I could have my entire performance repertoire in my immediate repertoire, but memory fades and maintenance can be very time-consuming…It’s a balancing act. If I put more tunes in my immediate rep, then I won’t have as much time to learn new rep. If I spend more time on new rep, then I’ll have less time to spend on maintaining my immediate rep. I think I’ve found a balance that works for me.

Generally, I derive balance from my concert programming, which is always changing and evolving. I don’t maintain repertoire that I don’t intend to perform! I’d be very interested to know how maintenance differs from pianist to pianist. How long does it take them to bring repertoire back to a performance level after not playing it for a certain amount of time? What factors are involved? How did they find their balance?

Stay tuned for Part 5!

Here’s a link to part 2.

Quick recap: Sometimes acquiring solo piano vocabulary means reaching into a tradition that extends beyond jazz.

Jazz piano is only an extension of a much broader, 300+ year old keyboard tradition (an extension that could use more exploring, I might add!). There are many non-jazz composers and pianists who have contributed to a massive body of repertoire that explores every extremity of piano playing.

Is it necessary to check out the classical piano tradition to play meaningful music? No. Is it necessary to check out the classical piano tradition to understand and appreciate the piano to its fullest capacity? Yes! I should add that just as the jazz community listens for acknowledgement of the jazz tradition, the piano community listens for acknowledgement of the piano tradition.

For this reason, my practice schedule usually includes music from two pianists, one from the jazz community and one from the broader piano community. This is where traditions collide: jazz and classical, improvised and written music. Currently, it’s Bud Powell and George Gershwin. Previously, it has been Fred Hersch and Glenn Gould (J.S. Bach). Later this year, I think it will be Monk and Stravinsky. I check ‘em out until I can’t take ‘em anymore!

My view is that building vocabulary trumps all considerations regarding jazz vs. classical, or improvised vs. written music. If it moves me, I don’t hesitate to study it, learn it and maybe incorporate it into my performing repertoire. Of course, this requires an extra consideration, as I mentioned in my answers for Peter:

“I ask myself two things: 1) Does this composition move me? 2) Am I capable of sharing/re-creating this experience for my audiences? If the answer to both questions is “yes,” I’ll take steps to incorporate that composition into my performance rep.”

But it all gets incorporated into my vocabulary: Music vocab, piano vocab, improvisatory vocab or otherwise!

Stay tuned for Part 4!

Here’s a link to Part 1.

Quick recap: The jazz tradition is known for improvisation and spontaneity, but the tradition has also accepted certain degrees of prepared music; the community doesn’t always realize this!

Every improviser has, and is experimenting with his/her own balance between the two. Personally, I’m interested in how solo pianists keep this balance. I’m finding that compared to other instrumentalists they’re more often exploring and wrestling with the two extremities.

With all this in mind, I use these three solutions to answer the question I posed in the previous post (“What do I do with my left-hand!?”):

1. I give my left-hand something specific to play (prepared)
2. I give my left-hand something to play within a concept (prepared/improvised)
3. I just play (improvised)

In my responses to Peter’s questions I mentioned that improvisation is a creative act of regurgitating vocabulary. This means giving my left-hand something specific to play (like in Keith’s YouTube video) may be part of a grander process of acquiring vocabulary. If my goal is to eventually improvise with my left hand, I need to build a more extensive vocabulary so that I can either freely regurgitate within a particular concept, or feel comfortable regurgitating something ‘off-the-cuff.’

Side note: I wish more pianists would ask: “What do I do with my right-hand!?”

Let me clarify the word “vocabulary.” In this context, it seems to insinuate harmonic vocabulary, melodic vocabulary and rhythmic vocabulary, but I intend it to represent much more including phrasing, form, energy, touch, balance, shape, range, control, performance practices and every music-making variable that could apply to improvisation and performing. If pianists want to hold their own playing two sets of solo piano, I would encourage them to acquire vocabulary that includes all of these things.

Sometimes that means reaching into a tradition that extends beyond jazz.

Stay tuned for Part 3!

Back in November, Peter Hum sent me some questions on playing solo piano. My answers are here.

Performing solo piano has a number of challenges. Performing solo piano regularly means more challenges. I’d like to reflect on these in the next few posts, expand on my answers to Peter’s questions and pose a few of my own.

“What do I do with my left-hand!?”

It’s a common question that comes from pianists first getting acquainted with playing solo piano. A pianist’s answer will reveal much about his/her solo-piano concept and approach, and specifically, how he/she balances prepared music with improvised music.

Side note: I wish more pianists would ask this question when playing with a trio/ensemble!

In my opinion, the degree in which jazz pianists balance prepared music with improvised music is often miscalculated. This is particularity true with solo playing and to a lesser extent, trio playing. My transcriptions have shown that the balance often leans more toward prepared music than listeners may think. For example, take a look at my transcription of Bud Powell’s Parisian Thoroughfare; every A-section, head-in and head-out, is played virtually the same every time! What does this say about Powell’s concept and approach?

My interpretation is that we’re listening to something that’s a result of many hours of reading, studying, listening, transcribing, brainstorming, deconstructing, crafting, recording, practicing, practicing and practicing. Most excitingly: it’s also evolving! Most importantly, this performance is not completely ‘off-the-cuff.’ Powell had some things prepared and worked out.

Another example: Isn’t it ironic that YouTube’s most watched, solo-piano video by one of the world’s greatest improvisers is heavily prepared?



What is Keith’s left-hand doing? How do you think he worked that out?

There’s no magic formula, only practice.

Stay tuned for part 2!

Pianists! Learn this fingering and own it!

There is no shortage of things you can do with double-note scales. Here are some that I’ve worked on over the last few years. I guess they’re quadruple-note scales!

Major seconds over minor thirds:



You can stack minor thirds:



I already showed you this one from Part 4:



If you’ve check out major scales:



Here’s one of my favourites. I used to play drop-two voices like this:



But with lots of practice, you can play them like this, with much more control:



Again, there are many things you can do with double-note scales (and quadruple-note scales!). There are many alternative-fingerings too. These are just some of the things I’ve checked out. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

In case you missed it, please check out my post on major seconds.

If you work on all these exercises, hopefully by this time your fingering-intuition is getting better. Your muscles just know where your fingers go even though you haven’t worked out anything specific. They just feel it. That’s great. That’s where you want to be.

The next two posts deal with some interesting exercises that make double-note scales more practical. First, is using the fingering from double-note scales to create interesting single-note patterns. For example, minor thirds:



And major seconds:



Be sure to check out the other intervals too! You’ll find patters like these are easier and easier to learn and apply to your playing:

A bop scale:



A diminished scale pattern:



Another diminished scale pattern:



There are countless others, but hopefully this gives you some ideas! And if you check out all these chromatic fingerings, you’ll be playing these like they’re nothing. Trust me!

Stay tuned for Part 7!

In case you missed it, please check out my post on fourths.

Fourths are easy and fun, but in my opinion, major seconds are the hippest!



The 5-3, 3-1 transfers can be tricky, but if you can get comfortable with it, it’s well worth the reward!

Stay tuned for part 6!

In case you missed it, please check out my post on major thirds.

Chromatic fourths and easy and fun:



And of course, this is one reason why you practice chromatic fourths:



You’ll notice that in certain spots you have to slide your second-finger from a black key to a white key. Try this exercise that alternates ascending with descending passages and isolates this occurrence:



I would imagine that Moszkowski’s Book III and IV would contain exercises similar to this. Exercises that focus on isolating spots with troubling fingering/hand positions. I would encourage you to experiment with similar exercises with all intervals. To start simply, practice switching directions! An example using minor thirds:



Stay tuned for part 5!

Chromatic major thirds are tricky. If you’ve worked on minor thirds, you’ll have to turn up the focus. Or else you’ll suddenly find yourself playing minor thirds instead of major thirds!

I’ve experimented with a few fingerings:



This may work as well, it opens the hand up a bit more:



Here’s a variation that I use sometimes (Right-hand ascending or left-hand descending). It can useful if my fifth-fingers need a break or if I’m only playing a section of the scale:


Stay tuned for part 4!

This should be pretty easy if you work on the fingering from the previous post, especially the first example. The third, fourth and fifth fingers in the right-hand use the exact same fingering.



What about descending? The trick: Your right-hand descending uses the same fingering as left-hand ascending. And your left-hand descending uses the same fingering and right-hand ascending! This trick utilizes keyboard symmetry. Example:



The notes D and G# are points of keyboard symmetry. If you ascend chromatically from these notes, you will see an exact mirror image if you descend chromatically. This is you how you can figure out difficult fingering solutions for say, your left-hand: figure out how to play it symmetrically in your right-hand!

All my examples will only show ascending passages. I’ll assume you can figure out descending passages using keyboard symmetry.

Stay tuned for part 3!

Fingering is your key to control. If you’ve found the best fingering-solution to a particular passage, you’ll have better precision and consistency. And with precision and consistency, you can focus on balance and tone.

I thought it’d be interesting to post some fingering exercises for pianists interested in exploring double-note scales. Posts will deal with things that I’ve worked on over that last two years. The exercises are derived from experimenting with Moszkowski’s book Scales & Double Notes Book II. Thanks to Gary Williamson for introducing me to this book!

Side Note: If anybody comes across Book III or Book IV, PLEASE let me know! I’m seriously interested in checking them out. I haven’t been able to find them.

Most important with double note scales is strengthening your third, fourth and fifth fingers. This is especially important because more often than not, these fingers will be playing melodies. Check out this exercise:



You can use the same fingering descending. Of course, there are many variations. So I would encourage pianists to practice ascending and descending with fingering alternating 3-4, 3-5, 4-5 and 3-4-5. This should prepare you for all of them! Example:



I should also mention that you shouldn’t limit yourself to the chromatic scale. Be sure to apply this to major scales, minor scales (melodic & harmonic), bop scales, diminished scales and any other scales you can think of. The above fingering variations will hopefully prepare you for the problems faced in these scales, but be sure to put them to the test!

Stay tuned for part 2!

I’m really interested in how artists treat the word ‘technique.’ (See posts on Technique and Perfect Technique).

For musicians, technique often refers to ‘fast playing,’ but can also refer to precision, control, range and balance. Virtuosos are master technicians. They possess all of these qualities. In an effort to improve our technique, we’re taught, for example, to master scales (in every key!)

But isn’t there a flaw in this approach? If you have no intention of performing music that requires the skills acquired from practicing scales, then why practice scales!?

There are two issues here: The musical and the physical.

We often hear the question: Who has better technique, Oscar Peterson or Thelonious Monk? It’s a silly question. Some will argue: “With his incredible facility, Oscar has ability to express more than Monk!” To which I respond: “Yes, Oscar can express more Oscar than Monk. But Monk can express more Monk than Oscar! Are you listening to the music or notes/minute!?”

What if Monk acquired technical skills beyond what was required of his own music? One day, he ‘mastered’ the C major scale and could play it up and down faster than anybody. Knowing that he would never use a scale like that, one could say that it wouldn’t benefit his music. It might one day benefit someone else’s music, but most likely, it was a waste of Monk’s time.

How does one know what technical exercises they should practice?

What do you want to perform? Pick your repertoire. Repertoire comes first. Music comes first. That should be your goal. Then devise a strategy to acquire the skills needed to execute the music (if you don’t have them already!). Technique is a means to this end, not an end in itself.

Side note: If you are a master technician (i.e. technique is your main objective), could you say that you are a composer’s means to this end?

In regards to the second issue (the physical), I fear that students are too often injuring themselves and becoming discouraged because of ‘technical expectations.’ Their physical limitations make it impossible for them to achieve the proficiency of say, Oscar Peterson. What they need to realize is that everybody has a point of physical exertion on their instrument that can’t be crossed without injury. I would encourage all musicians to explore the limits of their physicality but never try to achieve someone else’s.

Remember: Music comes first.

I’ve realized that when it comes to written or arranged music, much of my practice is dedicated to maintenance. Mainly because over time, muscles need a refresher. Memories fade! Particularly with hard music!

How can we minimize the time spent maintaining a high technical standard? Improvising musicians have an inherent solution. Their notes can be variable to maintain their standards. Can’t play fast today? Then play slow!

But musicians who are dedicated to reading music have a problem. They may know a piece perfectly today, but if they pick up that piece years or months later untouched, they’ll have to relearn it (not completely, just parts of it). Is this avoidable? I don’t think so. But I think it can be managed, especially if the initial learning of the piece is undertaken with lots of patience and discipline.

I’m still exploring. Any thoughts? If you decide to recycle a piece a year later, how long does it take to get it back in shape? How do you minimize that time?

It’s physically impossible for humans to multitask (see my post on multitasking).

Piano students seem to think otherwise. They don’t realize that solid right-hand and left-hand relationships are a result of building, shaping and maintaining an extensive vocabulary over a span of many years. We can’t focus and actively improvise with both hands at the same time. One hand always has to be on autopilot, even though it may be for only a few seconds. Therefore, your hands must have an intrinsic vocabulary to pull from while they’re on autopilot. They have to rely on muscle memory. Otherwise, your hands will only play what they know: nothing.

What do you do with your left-hand? Well, what’s your concept? You have to give your left-hand something to play first! Let’s say: a quarter-note bass line over the blues.

Side Note: How do you form a concept? By asking, transcribing and listening to the specialists!

Pick a twelve-bar, quarter-note pattern and stick to it. This is not a creative exercise. If you’re wavering from the pattern, you’re wasting time.

Practice it a million times. It’s all about repetition. Train your left-hand not to think. Learn it forwards, backwards, upwards and downwards. Learn it from the start, the end and the middle. Learn it in every way. Memorize the notes. Memorize how they look, how they sound, how they feel and how they taste. Learn to play it in your sleep. Know it better than anybody else. Own it. Add your right-hand. Experiment with different melodies, rhythms, tempos and improvisations. Try to throw off your left-hand. When you’re comfortable, move on to the next pattern and repeat.

This process achieves two things. First it develops your muscle memory and vocabulary. Secondly, it rids your playing of bad habits. But only if you’re disciplined enough to stick to your patterns and immediately fix any mistakes and inconsistencies. Again, this is not a creative exercise. You’re infusing vocabulary into your muscles. Creativity would be an act of blending vocabulary. That doesn’t help your left-hand autopilot. The whole point is to think creatively with your right-hand!

Of course, for future study, try putting your right-hand on autopilot!

You have perfect technique if:

• You sound exactly how you want to sound and
• You’re not injuring yourself

Your listeners will think you have perfect technique if:

• You satisfy their tastes

Here’s another excerpt from Kapustin:



I was working on this RH figure for a while (tempo is quarter = 60, so it goes by really fast). I decided that it’s easiest to play 1234, and then finger the chord 1345. It seems counter-intuitive doesn’t it?

I was originally playing the first four notes 2123 or 3123 which readies my pinky for the ‘C’ at the top of the chord, but the thumb cross is too slow for such a fast figure.

But strangely enough, when I use 1234, my hand is quicker at crossing my third finger over my fourth, and lifting up my fourth finger and playing ‘A’ (two notes away!) Maybe it’s momentum. I think it’s just deceptively simple!

Try it!

I’m working on a piece by Nikolai Kapustin. The great thing about playing Kupustin’s music is that his pieces fit nicely under the fingers. So you usually don’t have to struggle with learning awkward fingering. Except for this passage:



I think I’ve figured out the best solution. But I’m curious to know what you would use!

Update: For anybody interested, I use 4, 2, 3, 1, 5, 1, 3, 4, 3, 2, 1, 2, 5, 1, 3, 2, 1. Although, looking at some of your solutions, I may have to adjust! Also, I should have mentioned that that last two notes are played in the right hand. Thanks for your comments!

Scientists have recently discovered that it is physically impossible for humans to multi-task (Link). When it comes to paying attention, our brains are wired to only focus on one thing at a time. What our brains do is trick us into thinking we’re multi-tasking by switching our focus between tasks very rapidly. Once we’ve switched, it takes a second or two to regain the focus level we had on the previous task.

What are the implications of this for improvising pianists? Students often say that they have difficulty figuring out what to do with their left hand while improvising in the right. Now that we know we can’t focus and actively improvise with both hands at the same time, the only solution is to put one hand on autopilot. The left hand will have to rely on muscle memory while we focus on new ideas for the right hand, or vise versa. It’s physically impossible to do otherwise!

More on autopilot and muscle memory soon!

Pianists! Learn this fingering and own it! (Two octaves starting on C)

RH – 1234123123412312312341234
LH – 5432132143213213214321321