Different Landscapes

In my former ignorance, I used to think all Classical music performances of the same composition must necessarily sound the same. The score is literally black and white! That is, the notation is black notes on a white page. Each musician must be sufficiently trained to know how to read the score, and I used to think the score contained all the information in order to play it exactly as the composer intended.

But in my shortsightedness I neglected to consider the tempo or the dynamics (loud vs. soft). Using a solo piano piece as an example, one musician might tickle the ivories a bit faster than another. A different pianist might strike the keys harder or softer than another. In other words, one’s interpretation of the score may differ from another’s.

By analogy, one might read the black and white pages of Scripture and arrive at a different interpretation than another, sometimes depending on denominational slant. Upon reading Scripture, one might arrive at Calvinism, another, Arminianism. One might see premillennialism, another, amillennialism, or even postmillennialism. The same pages of Scripture, but different interpretations.

Just like there are ‘grey areas’ in interpreting a musical score, there are ‘grey areas’ in interpreting some parts of Scripture. May we all accept that there is room for such differences in secondary doctrines. And may we be willing to be challenged and even open to change our views upon challenge.

The idea for this post came after listening to different renditions of neo-Classical composer John Cage’s “In a Landscape” for solo piano. Never a fan of Cage’s music before, I was quite taken upon my first hearing of “Landscape”, for it struck me as a particularly moving though introspective piece. I quickly sought out other renditions and was taken by the differing interpretations of it. Each musician lends a bit of his or her own personality and taste.

This one by Ulrich Löffler is very much ‘by the book’, note-by-note:

But this one, by Alexei Lubimov, takes liberties with both tempo and dynamics. That is, Lubimov speeds up some parts, while slowing others, allowing time itself to ‘breathe’ a bit. And he strikes the keys softer at some points, while going harder at others. Note also how his hands dance over the keyboard—how his hands undulate as they descend to strike the keys then rise above them as the notes decay. An artist in more than one way!

Sarah Rothenberg takes it just a bit slower than most, creating a more mystical “Landscape”:

Herbert Henck’s tempo is so slow and his touch so delicate that, when compared to other renditions, he nearly transforms the piece into something else entirely:

Takahiro Yoshikawa’s tempo is the same as Löffler’s above, but his touch is lighter, though his occasional harder strikes are more pronounced than Löffler’s, thereby bringing out a bit more dynamics. Comparatively, I prefer Yoshikawa’s approach:

But my personal favorite is Lubimov’s studio version on the ECM New Series release Der Bote (titled after the Valentin Silvestrov piece that closes the album). Here Lubimov’s pace is a bit slower than the one above, yet he takes nearly as much liberty with both tempo and dynamics:

For me, it’s just right. For now anyway. Until I hear a different interpretation…