Sunday, January 23, 2022

The Goldberg Variations: Recording

This post is mainly about (primitive) recording technology.  Professional recording technicians will certainly cringe; I'll make a long story short, and say there are good reasons to pay for a studio and an expert engineer if you have the money.  If you don't, my experience might interest you.

I take a very practical view of recording technology.  Ever since I found, in an issue of Maximum Rock & Roll many years ago, a statement to the effect that bands have released CDs which were recorded using the Voice Recorder on Windows(tm), I've been intrigued by the possibilities.  Today, I'm using Audacity under Linux Mint; while there are other options available, this is the easiest at the moment.  To record the audio to begin with, I use a Zoom H1 digital recorder, plugged into the headphone jack via a splitter.

Here are some lessons learned so far:

It's been tempting to edit to a "final" take right away, but I've learned the hard way it's not a good idea.  For one thing, dynamics are important not only within a variation, but from one to the next.  When you amplify the takes as they are made, you can't make that comparison; the computer will amplify a "softer" track up to a level similar to the "louder" one before or after it.  While you can re-amplify the tracks when you put them all together, that will change the level of the background noise, too, which will be distracting.  So, while I'll do basic editing (cutting out the unwanted stuff) early on, adding amplification and other effects will have to wait until the whole set is done.  I had added noise removal on the recordings of several variations before I realized it was making my keyboard sound bad.  I'll re-record them.  Lesson learned.

There's a recording-studio adage that says everything that happens in a studio should be recorded.  I've found it's true.  At first, I used to record each take as a separate file, constantly getting up to start and stop the recording device.  Now, I just let it run, and if I need to go over a section slowly, or repeat something, I record that too.  Most of it will be deleted after the final take(s) is(are) done, but there's less chance of missing something good.  It's also easier to concentrate on the music.

Usually I leave some blank space before beginning to record a section, which will make it easy to find when I'm editing.  It's a test of patience; usually after messing something up I want to dive right back in and play it again.  But counting off a few blank measures in the tempo of the piece helps to keep some perspective.

A home recording can be many things, and before anything else it's a way to hear my own playing.  Does it sound the way it should?  Are the rhythms right?  What about the ornaments?  The articulations?  Do I like it at this tempo, or would it be better faster (or slower)?  While there is an understandable urge to produce something and publish it, a home recording is first and foremost a practice tool.  While I'm playing, my ear can lie to me about what I'm doing.  An unedited recording, however, comes closer to the truth.

Will you ever hear what I'm creating?  I'm not sure.  But if I don't hear it, there won't be much worth sharing.

 


Saturday, January 15, 2022

The Goldberg Variations: The Project

I've had my eye on the Goldberg Variations by J. S. Bach for some time.  I have recordings of individual variations that I made in 2013, and I was working on the Quodlibet as far back as 1998.

Right now, when there's so much general craziness, and I'm staying home more than I otherwise might, is a great time to go back to them, and you're invited along for the ride.  Hopefully, the journey will be entertaining and instructive; you'll learn from some of my mistakes.

The Goldberg Variations are, among other things, a big piece; a complete performance, with repeats, takes around an hour and a half.  These days, it seems to be common to leave out one or both repeats in the Aria and some, or all, of the variations.  This is a practical move; an intermission really doesn't work with this piece, and an hour and a half is a long time to sit without a break.  If none of the repeats are taken, the piece becomes a manageable forty-five minutes long, more or less.  Getting through the whole thing is still a feat of endurance.  My athletically-inclined friends fill my social media feeds with accounts of the marathons they run and the weights they lift, and exhortations to take on big projects.  Here's mine.

A big project needs a work plan, and I'm tackling this in stages.

  • Locate, and listen to, a number of recordings of the work, on piano and on harpsichord. 
  • Beginning from the end, more or less, make individual recordings of each variation, and two of the Aria.  For now, I'm recording them without repeats.
  • Put my recordings onto a CD and listen to the whole set several times, taking note of things such as the relative loudness of the different tracks, the effectiveness (or not) of using noise reduction and other recording technology, the relative tempos of the different variations, and so on.
  • Re-record anything that seems to need it at this point, using the best-practice information from the previous step.
  • At this point, there will be an end product: a CD.  But it won't be done.
  • Record the variations in sets of two or three, and gradually increase the numbers of variations in each set.
  • Eventually, play the whole thing start to finish.
  • Then do the whole thing over with the repeats.  Or not.

There is considerable overlap between stages.  Right now I'm on the first two.

These are some of the results I'm hoping for:

  • Better playing, especially on this keyboard
  • A recording I can give to my family, friends, etc.
  • Thorough knowledge of this wonderful work
  • Improvements in my recording technique, especially editing with Audacity

So far, I have recordings of Variations 21-22 and 25-30, and I'm working on 23 and 24.

More news as it happens.