I’ve been gradually playing through the whole volume of Mozart piano sonatas, and the other day I reached the B flat Sonata, K333.
This piece holds unpleasant memories for me because when I was doing my O-levels, or Highers, I forget which, I had to perform some of it from memory as part of an exam. It was an arduous time in school life for all of us doing national exams – just endless study and revision. Anyway, as well as all the other subjects I had to revise, I had to practise the first movement of K333.
As you’ll know if you play the piece, the fingering is very tricky in places. I was still finding the fingering tricky when the day of the exam arrived. Even worse, during the exam, nerves made me forget at which octave various phrases occurred. I suddenly couldn’t think whether such-and-such a phrase was in this octave … or the one above … or the one below. I kept going but my heart was thumping.
You may think I can’t have practised the piece enough for muscle memory to guide me to the right octave at the right time. Perhaps I hadn’t. Anyway, it was all most disconcerting. When I see the score of that sonata, the precarious feeling returns.
The other day, however, when I turned the page and K333 came next, I sighed and started playing it. Would you believe, all the tricky fingering came out perfectly, although I hadn’t played the piece for quite a while. All the places which once gave me trouble sailed by insouciantly. And yet I had done no preparatory practice on it or made any effort to remind myself of the fingering.
What a piece of luck! I could analyse it (eg. I have more experience now; I wasn’t under any kind of strain) but maybe better just to breathe deeply and be grateful.
Sadly, students who do music for their higher school certificate do not receive additional marks, and this has always seemed to me unfair. Chemistry and calculus are all very well, but when would we ever expect an adult to pad out a gruelling exam week with a live performance of music? Never!
Your post reminded me of when I did my final performance exam at secondary school! One of my pieces was a precarious gigue by Handel and I came unstuck in the last line. I’ll never forget the judgemental look of the examiner, like a hungry wolf examining a newborn lamb. These years later I can imagine the ghost of Handel standing by, and I’m sure he’d have given me a polite clap and a big smile.
James, I’m sure you are right – Handel would have been encouraging and sympathetic.