In a letter to his friend, Jacques Durand, Debussy wrote of one of his piano compositions, “Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum is a kind of health-oriented, cumulative gymnastics: it should be played every morning before breakfast, beginning moderato and ending spiritoso.” It’s fitting, then, that I start my day with this exuberant piece.
In order to maintain my sanity and physical, mental, and emotional stamina for what appeared to be a long haul in the early stages of the pandemic (although back then I thought that meant 6-8 weeks. Little did I know...) I decided to create a new schedule. A series of daily practices imposes structure and creates routine where it no longer existed. Besides morning yoga, journaling, and getting outside for at least 20 minutes a day, it includes daily piano.
I’ve practiced piano every day since March, playing five favorite songs in the same order. It’s a calming ritual that brings me joy, but I found myself wondering: why these songs? Why now? The truth is I hadn’t given their choice a lot of thought. In the early days of the pandemic, I just wanted comfort, and these five provide that for me. While wildly different in structure and tone, each is a crowd-pleaser, and more importantly, fun to play, so I * almost * forget about everything else…
Here they are, the five pieces that have carried me through:
Two Part Invention No. 14 in B flat major, Bach
Bach’s inventions are a collection of pieces in varying keys where recurring melodies are essentially in conversation with each other, exchanging dialogue across key changes and inverting melodies freely. Originally written as musical exercises for his students, these lively pieces offer an inspired way to start daily practice. This is an upbeat, bright song that’s as enjoyable to play as it is to hear.
Sonata No. 20 in G major. Beethoven
In this joyful sonata, the notes fly across the piano in dramatic arpeggios and winding scales. The structure is simple but reassuring, and the scales almost play themselves after years of practice. It may not dazzle like a Mozart sonata or impress like a Ravel concerto, but it’s a cornerstone of my practice for its reliably cheerful consistency.
Children’s Corner L. 119 L. 113 Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum, Debussy
After the methodical, structural precision of Bach and Beethoven, in bursts Debussy with the rousing Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum. The piece opens with an onslaught of legato sixteenth notes that leap across the piano nearly nonstop until a slower portion about two-thirds of the way through.
No one knows how to elicit pure, raw emotion from the piano quite like Debussy. But perhaps because of that, his pieces are challenging and require many hours of practice to get right. Without exaggeration, I’ve played this piece thousands of times; I performed it in recitals and competitions as a teen and I’ve revisited it throughout my life—and I still stumble regularly. When I do get it right, I’m transported to another dimension, one where melodies flow like water.
Intermezzo, Manuel Ponce
This piece has special meaning to me because it’s one of the first I learned when I started piano lessons again in my early thirties. My Mexican-born instructor at the time introduced me to Ponce, a Mexican composer active in the first half of the twentieth century who deserves more name recognition for his piano compositions in particular (he’s mainly remembered for his guitar music). This moody, melancholic piece is written in 2/4 time, but there’s something rather waltz-y about the supporting trio of notes the left hand plays while the right hand carries the tune. Must be played with feeling!
Partita no. 1 in B flat major, Gigue, Bach
Bookending my daily practice with the Invention and this Partita/Gigue ensures that my fingers get a workout. This is a rapid-fire piece that involves a LOT of tricky hand crossing. At a certain point, you have to just give in and completely trust that your fingers will carry you through. It’s inevitable: as soon as I stop and think, I make a mistake. It’s practically an athletic feat to get through it; I can actually feel my joints strengthening. The triumphant ending sums it all up in a tidy fashion.
This is the last piece in the Suzuki Level 4 book, but for me it was such a leap in difficulty and complexity from the previous Level 4 pieces that I’m surprised it’s not in a higher level book.
This daily practice has been as meditative as any yoga flow and as restorative as a brisk walk, and I find it complements both of those activities well.