an innate necessity

We receive a hefty number of wonderful emails, both positive and negative, and we thank everyone who takes the time to share their thoughts with us.

I admit, however, to taking offense when our artistic integrity is called into question. Our websites and videos have never been about show-biz, nor are they simply about virtuosity. They were not created as gimmicks or to be clever.

They were born out of an innate necessity.

Our websites, videos, performances, and compositions are an outcome of the spirit and joy inherent in music-making. They are the result of our desire to create real and authentic links with our audiences.

Our videos are not intended to be clever or “rock-style;” they are designed to enhance the meaning of the music performed. The "Pas de deux" video, for example, aims to intensify the intimacy and nostalgia already inherent in the music. Similarly, our video of the New Account of the Blue Danube Waltzes intends to visually dramatize what the music already conveys: as we wrote in our album’s liner notes, “our kaleidoscopic Blue Danube Fantasy takes the elegance of the Viennese waltz as a point of departure and plunges headlong into the passions that undulate beneath the dance's restrained facade.” We created the "Reimagine" trailers to represent, in a few short minutes, the impact and drama of the entire album and to encourage viewers to invest in the full production, just as a movie trailer intends to do.

Our compositions and arrangements are not pianistically challenging merely for the sake of virtuosity. For example, we wrote the hand crossings into our Libertango arrangement to visually communicate an element of danger: the racing heartbeats, the physical friction, and the charged chemistry between a pair of tango dancers. Many of our compositions and arrangements for four-hands are designed to withstand the demands of a 2000-seat concert hall, unlike so many works from the four-hand repertoire more suited for a living room; this also changes the way we approach the compositional process.

We do not select repertoire to be sensational; we select music that speaks to us, music that we love, and music that makes a statement. When asked to replace John Williams as composers for a Juilliard centennial concert, we chose to use the iconic Star Wars music as our source material for a very simple reason: we love the music. We really do. And we found great joy in making this music our own.

Our presence on the Internet is not simply about self-promotion; we maintain a strong presence on the Internet because we feel it is an effective way to share and discuss music with people, especially young people. It is an exceptional tool with the power to galvanize new classical music listeners. The questions and answers on our website, and the polling booth for that matter, are designed to give us an opportunity to communicate directly with our audiences (we hope to relate to our audiences as real people and not some aloof automatons on stage).

Everything we do is a result of our mission:

To connect with others; to engage, provoke, illuminate; to serve as a conduit for the composer’s voice; to authentically express our inner lives; to share the joy and fulfillment that only music can elicit. …to free the world from the constraints of sleep-inducing concerts. …to demonstrate that classical piano music can serve as a relevant and powerful force in society.

All that we do as musicians is geared toward these goals, is inspired by these goals, and is fueled by these goals.

If we were doing it all for gimmickry or attention, we wouldn’t have accomplished nearly as much (in fact, we’d be downright bored), and we’re confident it wouldn’t be nearly as good.

Comparing Butterflies to Parthenon Marbles

I came across a terrific article written by the always-entertaining Harold Schonberg while working on my book the other day. The piece, “Recitalists who Adhere to ‘Tradition’ in Their Programs May Court Disaster,” appeared the New York Times in 1960, and I’ve pasted an excerpt from it below.

      "No artist who ever lived has been master of all styles. Even a genius like Rachmaninoff sounded rather silly on those rare occasions he played Mozart of Debussy. And yet, year after year, march the divisions of hopefuls with programs that encompass a capsule history of music.
      "Thus we get the spectacle of an ardent young violinist, obviously of a temperament that would tear down the hall in Paganini, scraping away at unaccompanied Bach. Or the converse: a young man who would be only too happy to play unaccompanied Bach to the best of his considerable ability along those lines, but who feels it his duty to play Paganini miserably.
      "Why in the name of artistic suicide do these things so often happen? Simply because tradition, that dried-up and unimaginative old spinster, has so decreed.
      "It is high time that artists realized they should program only the things that they feel they can play, not the things they think they should play. If an artist has a romantic temperament, he should avoid Scarlatti or unaccompanied Bach, and confine himself to Chopin, Schumann, Liszt, Brahms. If his allegiance is to the moderns, on with Hindemith, Prokofieff and Schoenberg; out with everything else.
      "But then enters, draped in black, the figure of the wise man. How, he asks in his infinite wisdom, can an artist be judged until he plays Mozart and Beethoven? THEY are the ultimate test, and not until then can the artist be given a pass to the pantheon. So says the wise man.
      "But this argument, though it has been parroted for years, is nonsense, and dangerous non-sense at that. Is it not good enough that an artist does a particular segment of the repertory with flair? Is not a fine Ravel interpretation preferable to a second-rate Beethoven one? Should not an artist be given credit for what he can do, rather than insults for what he does not even attempt to do? What smug superiority it is to set up standards by which a butterfly must be compared to an Elgin marble!"

(#1 of 3) Imagine: You're outside and the moon is out.

This summer, we spent three weeks preparing to record our upcoming CD. This was all quite serious and intense, so we decided to spice things up and film a new music video. There was never a dull moment--in general, when the two of us start throwing ideas around, mischief inevitably ensues. We threw caution--and our dignity--to the wind, and we had great fun spoofing the YouTube culture that we've grown to love. (Watch the video below!)

The music: The "Moonlight" Sonata, Op. 27, No. 2, by Ludwig van Beethoven

The location: Yale University, Greg's apartment, Liz's apartment, the New Haven train station, and NYC (112th and Broadway, Riverside Park, Columbus Circle, 110th and Broadway subway stop)

Greg in grey, Liz in black:

There is a new brand of music critic thriving in today's technological world, out in full force on the millions of comment boards littering the Internet. These informative sages are changing the way we listen to music with their critical observations of some of the world's best pianists. In this video, Liz and I dramatized actual comments posted on the YouTube website by just a few of these critics, offering their valuable advice to legendary pianists such as Artur Rubinstein, Vladimir Horowitz, Alfred Brendel, and Wilhelm Kempff. (Yes, a YouTube user did tell Rubinstein that he should play slower ... I mean, I'm sure Rubinstein cares ... we can just see him sitting at his computer taking notes ...)

Now don't take us wrong. We think user interaction is fantastic (see our website if you don't believe us). We just happen to find many of the comments on the YouTube website really, really funny, and at times, completely inappropriate.

Of course, it wouldn't hurt if more people would to listen to others (and interact with others) with an open mind. All performers bring something unique to the table. Is it not possible to lack judgment, postpone criticism, and simply enjoy the wonderful differences in interpretation? Listen for what you love, not what you hate.

That said, here's the video:



P.S. The video originally began with a mockery of my solo videos (my Ligeti and Bach videos) in which I rather dramatically instructed the viewer to "Imagine: You're outside and the moon is out." It was really funny (and pretty embarrassing), but only to people who had seen my other videos. Along with a number of other scenes, it ultimately got the chop.