When we discuss sight reading, we are generally taught a very narrow way of thinking about it. Sight reading is taking a piece we have never seen or played before and attempting to produce a (hopefully musical) performance of it on the spot. For many of us, it is a skill that will be judged. It is after all a component of probably all mainstream exams. For others, it is a necessary part of the skills we need to have (accompanists frequently don’t have real time to practice the music they need to play). I totally get this. However, there is an additional way we can look at sight reading on piano.
Traditional sight reading
The usual (I think mostly correct) advice is that we focus on music that is 1 to 3 ‘grades’ (depending on how you define them) below what we think we can actually ‘play’ (so simpler music). We should also focus on playing it without stopping, paying perhaps more attention to the rhythm than the notes. We should equally avoid looking at our hands.
However, I think this narrow definition can leave us short-changed.
How to improve our reading
One thing I have noticed in online forums and piano groups is that there is an odd ambiguity in terms of terminology. People frequently talk about ‘sight reading’ as being synonymous to ‘playing from music’, whereas others seem to follow the generally accepted convention of ‘playing something that you have never seen before’. This however opens up an interesting question. What is the relative importance of ‘reading’ in the phrase ‘sight reading’. I have talked about this before and today I’d like to add some more ideas.
Being able to read music seems self evident. However, how often, when we practice our pieces, are we not really focusing on ‘reading’ notes. We are practising notes we already know – trying to get them better. Perhaps we haven’t memorized the entire piece, but the reality is that we’re not really relying on those dots for for most of the time that we sit at the piano. This is perhaps further compounded by the tradition of pianists playing from memory. Almost as if having music in front of us is something to be ashamed of.
As a result, amount of time we spend ‘looking at printed music’ or ‘reading it’ is perhaps closely linked to how long we spend ‘sight’ reading. Yet if we only use simple music for sight reading then are we developing our ability to read in an optimal manner.
Written music is a language
As we learn to read in our native language, we don’t have this notion of ‘sight reading’. We simply read. Aside very young children, do we tell people to only read a certain level of language? We don’t worry that we’ll occasionally come across words that we don’t recognize. We’ll slow down. We might even split the word into syllables as we decipher it. We perhaps won’t understand what we have just read on the first pass. We’ll stop, think about it, re-read it. If we are reading in a foreign language, we might find ourselves doing this somewhat more frequently.
Why would sight reading on piano be any different? Why wouldn’t we spend time ‘deciphering’ more complex material? Should we worry about needing to reach for the musical equivalent of a dictionary from time to time?
Personally, I get enormous pleasure from ‘sight reading’ more advanced music. For example after having heard Schumann’s G Flat Major Impromptu, I downloaded and sight read it. I’ve sight read Chopin’s complete Mazurkas. I always sight read the advanced pieces in Pianist Magazine. Clearly, in the narrow definition of sight reading then these pieces are well beyond what I should use. I’m not even attempting to play ‘at the right tempo’ or ‘without stopping’. Rather, I am allowing my fingers to explore their real beauty.
In fact, I find that exploring such music, in private, in my own time and for my own pleasure can procure as much joy as playing through something that I feel I can already play well. Why should I deny myself the pleasure of exploring a little Rachmaninov for 10 minutes just because I’m not yet good enough to learn it? I saw a recent quote from Mitusko Uchida where she called this ‘playing badly alone’ (see the Cross Eyed Pianist’s article). I think this describes it perfectly. However, I think it also has value as a tool for learning.
Words of more than one syllable
By ‘sight’ reading music that is more advanced, we introduce ourselves to a whole new set of problems to decipher. One obvious aspect is increasingly complex rhythmic ideas. Going from quarter, to eighth, to sixteenth notes – not to mention inventive sub-divisions such as ten eighth notes – can be mental gymnastics. Added to that, we have surprising harmonies, unfamiliar key signatures (Scriabin laughs at me), exotic styles. All of this is akin to reading words with ‘more syllables’ than we’re used to.
Of course, when we’re doing this, we don’t need to worry about keeping to time. We can explore the rhythms, harmonies, the voicing, the structure. If we want to repeat one phrase 10 times because it is particularly beautiful (or particularly confusing), then why not! If we want to see what the composer is trying to say, why wouldn’t we experiment a little? To me this then becomes a little like the comprehension exercises we used to do at school. It takes us beyond recognising individual words (or dots) and makes us think more about what those words (dots) actually mean.
Naturally, spending time also on ‘traditional’ sight reading is important. However, I have found that my forays into more advanced material have improved my general sight reading no end. Have you tried doing this?
