How I Learned Ravel’s La Valse

Day 1

I am happy to join the challenge.

In three months I need to perform Ravel’s La Valse in concert. It really is a fantastic piece. Ravel himself called La Valse an apotheosis of the Viennese waltz.

I do not know how “musicianly” it is to think of the work in terms of pages, but right now it is convenient for me to plan the learning process this way. As the work continues, I will move to more professional reference points: exposition, development, recapitulation, and so on.

So: 31 pages of absolutely hellish text.

Of these, I know exactly two pages — and even those I learned a long time ago.

Plan for the evening: learn page 3, which I had already looked at a little before.

One useful thing I have already done: I analysed the bar structure and discovered that everything is very square — in groups of four bars.

The most interesting thing is that the same principle also works in Gaspard de la nuit, which Timofey is learning in parallel for the same concert.

In the screenshots I attached, you can see red check marks. They stand before the first bar of each four-bar group.

And this is where things become interesting.

With this approach, many things instantly become clear. For example, the entrance of the theme in the right hand is not the first bar of the group, but the fourth.

Seeing the music this way changes a lot and, at the same time, puts everything in its place.

I immediately remembered Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1, where he actually writes numbers at the beginning to show that the music does not begin on the first bar. I am sure Ravel took this idea from there, but did not write anything explicitly.

The result is more subtle and mysterious. If someone did not guess it — not my fault. Frenchman.

Day 2

Yesterday I joined the challenge — and miracles began to happen.

I did not learn page 3 of Ravel’s La Valse as planned.

But I did spend an hour working specifically on La Valse instead of repeating what I already knew. I moved page 2 forward and, I think, finally sorted out page 1.

What is the miracle?

The challenge itself literally “forced” me to work on La Valse properly. Not just to think, “I really should,” but actually to open the score and begin working.

There is also a concrete result to report the next day. And that helps a lot.

Yesterday I wrote that I had roughly divided the text into four-bar groups. But the form still did not fully settle in my mind.

Now I have marked the beginning of each 16-bar block with a star next to the check mark. That is, four squares of four bars each.

And the process immediately began to move.

Then I started walking around the room and going through the text in my head.

I was practicing in a church, in a large room, almost like a small conference hall. And then I remembered Dmitry’s mention of Molly Gebrian’s book and the idea that most of the work happens away from the instrument.

We have already spoken many times in Piano BAZA about different practice methods: mentally going through the text without the instrument, playing on the closed lid, alternating the hands, and so on.

But yesterday I clearly formulated and fixed another method for myself — one I had tried before, but quickly abandoned.

Now that we are moving together in the challenge, I wanted to share it.

I began walking around the room while “playing” all the notes in the air with my fingers.

Important: it is not only about the fingers. The “roly-poly” movement I often talk about remains there too. I need to remind myself of it, because it not only frees the body, but also loosens the movement.

The idea is this:

each step equals exactly one bar.

The triple metre inside the bar is felt internally. At the same time, the hands play the texture in the air.

I once heard about the method of playing in the air. Perhaps someone knows in which book or treatise it is described. But here I combined it specifically with walking.

It becomes something like a conducting foundation, but with a pianistic angle.

So I was pacing evenly around the room.

At first I thought: if a person had four legs, this method would match the four-bar squares perfectly. Good Lord, how awful, I know.

The light in the room was off because I was learning La Valse from a tablet. It was already getting dark.

Then I thought that people who could see me through the windows would probably think something strange. The room has many windows, facing both the street and the neighbouring building.

At once I remembered the ghost of Hamlet’s father.

And yes — I still do not care what anyone thinks.

Then I did turn the light on.

When you walk the bars evenly, something theatrical immediately appears in it.

I also remembered the metronome, which Vadim had written about in BAZA a couple of hours earlier.

Despite all these thoughts, of course, I tried to concentrate on the process.

And I must say: the method is truly effective.

On the one hand, I began to feel the form and the structure of the squares better.

On the other, I immersed myself much more deeply in each bar.

In one place I clearly realised that my previous learning had been superficial. After this approach, the passage settled perfectly in my head rhythmically and structurally.

And an important clarification: I was not winding myself up with fantasies about what a “great artist” I am.

I really felt that I had found a very practical method.

I am sharing a short video.

In Piano BAZA we will definitely explore this approach in more detail. I may even offer a separate workshop on this way of working.

Day 3

Yesterday evening I had an excellent one-and-a-half-hour practice session with La Valse, exactly as planned.

I continued learning it with the walking method, which I “remembered” on the first day of the challenge.

Page 3 of Ravel’s La Valse is still not learned, but I can already play two and a half pages in a very solid working version.

Moreover, in my head this is no longer just “two and a half pages,” but exactly four blocks of 16 bars.

Once I could play these four blocks from beginning to end, I began combining the walking method with playing at the instrument:

Block 1 — at the instrument,
Block 2 — away from the instrument,
Block 3 — at the instrument,
Block 4 — away from the instrument.

Then the reverse.

This kind of alternation makes the learning even stronger, because the text is checked not only by the fingers, but also by the mind.

Today during the day I played for half an hour and reinforced these four blocks. I also did the walking, but this time around the apartment.

Now this evening I will not need to recall yesterday’s achievements from scratch. I am confident that I will be able to finish learning page 3 — more precisely, one more 16-bar block, the fifth block, meaning four squares of four bars.

I am very happy with this system.

A clear structure appears in the mind, instead of endless memorising.

I can start playing from any block, and that already speaks of fairly strong memorisation, not just playing by intuition.

On the one hand, this is only three pages out of 31 — or roughly five blocks out of 50. There is still an enormous amount of work ahead.

On the other hand — a tenth is already done.

And I know from experience: the hardest thing is to begin.

To understand the structure, the general idea, the mood, the method of work. After that, if you practice steadily and purposefully, things usually begin to move faster.

Not always smoothly. There will be difficult passages and moments when the main thing is not to put the piece aside “until better times.”

But this is exactly where the challenge Dmitry started helps.

Day 4

Yesterday evening I had about one hour and ten minutes to practice.

Considering that during the day I had already played for half an hour and reinforced the four 16-bar blocks learned during the first two days, I did not repeat them again in the evening, saving memory resources, and started immediately with the fifth block.

After 30 minutes it was already learned. Although, honestly, I was very tired even before I began, and I did not feel like going to the church to practice at all.

But a challenge is a challenge.

I learned it, as usual, with the walking method.

Inspired by the result, I suddenly wanted to learn one more block, which I had not planned for that day at all.

And after another 25 minutes, the sixth block was also learned. To my great joy, one and a half squares in it repeat almost exactly from the fifth block.

I could already feel that my brain was barely working, but I still decided to reinforce the blocks backwards.

First I played the fifth and sixth blocks, which I had just learned.

Then I tried to remember the beginning of the fourth — could not. I looked at the score and after that played from memory:

4–5–6,

then:

3–4–5–6,

then:

2–3–4–5–6,

and finally, from beginning to end, all six blocks without stopping.

That is, I checked where each block begins, except the first one, of course. And then I played them from memory.

Happy as an elephant, I went home. The church was just closing.

After three days of the challenge, I already have three and a half pages of La Valse. True, two and a half of them I had worked on before.

But today I learned a whole page of difficult musical text, written as continuous polyrhythms, entirely from scratch.

You do not need to be a mathematical genius to calculate that if Ravel’s La Valse has 31 pages of score, then at today’s pace it could be learned in 31 days.

And May happens to have 31 days.

I understand perfectly well that at some point this learning pace may drop significantly. The accumulated amount of musical text will become larger and larger.

On the other hand, anyone who has learned long poems by heart knows that the beginning is the hardest.

Later the words settle better in the mind, support points appear, connections appear, structure appears, and you become related to the poet’s style.

So I think this is a good opportunity to check whether memory is elastic after all.

Rather overconfidently, I set the goal for today: two new blocks — approximately one page — plus, of course, connecting them with what has already been learned.

Day 5

Yesterday everything followed the usual pattern.

During the day I played through what I had learned the day before. It took literally 15 minutes.

In the evening I had a little over an hour. I opened the score and immediately felt that I would not learn much that day. Perhaps the visit to the dentist earlier had its effect.

But I still stubbornly began learning a new section and managed to settle it in my head within the time available.

So I learned approximately half a page.

But because the day before I had learned two 16-bar blocks, in the end I reached exactly four pages in four days.

So the hope of learning all 31 pages in 31 days is still alive.

But I also felt that the volume is accumulating, and it is becoming harder to hold everything in my head. And this is only four pages out of 31.

So I decided for myself that I need to practice more often with a fresh mind — in the morning or during the day — and, if possible, learn ahead of schedule.

By the way, right after my 15 minutes of playing during the day, Gustaf came for a lesson, and I confidently played him five out of the six blocks I had at that moment.

So I did not play only the sixth extra block, which I had learned the previous evening.

I will not be able to practice tonight, so I will now try to learn two new blocks — one page — in a couple of hours.

Ideally, I would like to start the third block too, because the refined episode in it contrasts with the climax of the second, and I really want to connect them.

That would also give me a small reserve.

It is very pleasant to see that the challenge works and brings pleasure to the participants.

Have a beautiful day, inspiring practice, and may you reach your goals.

Day 6

Yesterday I completed my minimum plan for the day with Ravel’s La Valse — one block, meaning 16 bars.

I practiced for exactly one hour.

Although it was in the morning, it went with difficulty. Now I will also have exactly one hour — I am running to practice.

I hope to catch up over the next few days. But overall the process is moving, and that is the main thing. The challenge helps a lot.

One downside: I am slowly but steadily losing form.

An hour or an hour and a half a day is generally not enough for me. And now, when I dedicate that time only to learning a new piece, my hands gradually become wooden.

Ideally, I want to carve out one more hour a day for repeating other pieces and active warming up — for example, with Liszt Etudes or something similar: fast, energetic, with full engagement.

I also want to repeat separately, many times, the passages where the hands “do not want to play.”

So the conclusion is simple: learning a new piece is important, but one must also maintain form separately.

Day 7

Today I managed to practice three times for one hour.

Everything was La Valse.

Since yesterday I had fallen behind my schedule by almost a page. Today I managed to learn almost two pages, so I more or less caught up.

But overall it is still difficult. I still cannot play all seven pages from beginning to end.

But I can already say with confidence: this piece is one of the best things I have ever played. And perhaps, for me personally, the best.

I also think that this system of learning is very good: to “attack” a piece and, while the first enthusiasm has not cooled, learn it through to the end.

If you do not manage it — later everything may stretch out for years.

I was offered a 25-minute lunch concert on June 10. Now I need to send the programme.

I am thinking of putting Ravel’s La Valse in the programme.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

If I manage it, then at the concert with Timofey on July 22 we can really enjoy it.

And if I do not dare now, while there is still a month and a half left, then I will still eventually have to go out and make mistakes for the first time. Only the July 22 concert will be more serious — within a festival.

So perhaps it is better to go through the first baptism of fire earlier.

Day 8

Today everything went according to plan.

I practiced for two and a half hours — almost entirely La Valse.

Toward the end I could not resist and decided to play the Liszt Etude I had worked on a lot over the past few months, but had not repeated for about two weeks.

The effect was very interesting.

My hands seemed to play by themselves — I could barely keep up with controlling them. The precision of movements and coordination switched on immediately.

It felt as if a much newer model of robot had started playing.

As for La Valse, everything is still difficult.

I learned a new page, but by the evening I could barely recall it after repeating a little of what had been learned during the previous week.

The most interesting thing is that the more difficult the text, the more beautiful the music.

La Valse is, of course, astonishing.

I remembered how we studied it with Alexander — my student who won the Grand Prix in the amateur category at the PianoArt competition, I think in 2019.

The lessons lasted an hour and a half.

I remember enjoying them very much, but after those lessons I could barely think, because I had to be constantly involved and constantly checking the musical text.

Although at that time, of course, we were working only on the text.

I will definitely find the recording and add it to BAZA.

Perhaps Alexander will also join us in the future. I will write to him one of these days.

Today I could not resist and looked into the recapitulation.

I had a secret hope that in the recapitulation not one page, but two or three pages would repeat. That this would give me a time reserve and lift my spirits.

But a big surprise awaited me.

Ravel decided to repeat literally a few bars and then turn into another dark forest of modulations and chromatic alterations.

Still, every cloud has a silver lining.

Today I checked the number of pages again: the last one really is page 31.

But the musical text begins on page 3.

So theoretically, if on May 29 in the first half of the day I finish learning the last page, I will be able to play La Valse at the BAZA concert at 16:00.

Day 9

Today I practiced for two hours.

In the morning I immediately began learning the new page 9. The passage is very difficult. A third staff appears, and everything must be divided very sensibly between the hands. After an hour I was already coping with it fairly well.

After I had understood this truly difficult passage, I suddenly felt that the previous eight pages, which I had learned before, were an absolute dark forest. Everything was mixed up in the Oblonsky household.

By the way, I remember how my student Alexander struggled with this passage eight years ago and each time swore in frustration when playing it. But in the end he managed. We spent a long time then choosing fingering options, and I would be very interested to compare the version I advised eight years ago with the one I have made now.

After that I put La Valse on the shelf with a clear conscience — or, more precisely, the tablet — and went to visit friends.

Nevertheless, in the evening I came to the church and began repeating these eight pages from the end.

And in some miraculous way it turned out that I actually know them fairly well by heart. After an hour I played them through from beginning to end a couple of times, not perfectly, but still.

Literally yesterday I could not have dreamed of this. It is almost a third of La Valse.

Of course, there was no question of remembering and playing the page I had studied in the morning.

In general, considering that I practice on average about two hours a day, I am very happy with the result. Without the challenge, I would most likely have postponed this for years. But this way, you move purposefully forward, no matter what.

Over the next few days I would like to practice a little more, so that I have at least some reserve and so that in the final week I can already begin assembling the piece into one whole.

Also, I have a trip planned for several days, when I will not be able to practice. So the breaks Dmitry wrote about happen automatically. And it seems they really do work, which is very encouraging.

Day 10

Today I practiced for three hours and learned two new pages.

As we used to say in my childhood — happy as an elephant.

The system is already taking shape quite clearly.

The first hour of practice — immediately new material. Not a single note of scales, exercises, or even repetition of old pieces. This is the “golden” hour for learning new text.

After that, there are options. You can work on what was learned the day before, connect fragments, practice difficult passages, and so on.

In the evening — according to your condition. You can try to learn something else new, or calmly work on what is already there.

And a small piece of advice.

When learning musical text, never perceive “spread” intervals or chords as separate notes. Learn them immediately “together,” meaning press all the notes at the same time.

Otherwise they will confuse you, and you will begin to get stuck literally for no reason.

Later, when the harmonic foundation is already settled in your head and hands, you will easily be able to “spread” it back out if the text requires it.

But this topic deserves a separate video, so I will definitely record a lesson about it in the next few days.

Day 11

I practiced for four hours.

With difficulty, I worked through one new page. I also repeated the previous pages, trying to “assemble” them into one whole.

I came up with a decent definition of Ravel’s La Valse:

“The text is hellish — the music is divine.”

Day 12

I have never particularly liked expressions like “it can break your brain” or “brain-breaking,” but today I realised that sometimes there is simply no more precise way to put it.

As usual, I devoted the first hour of practice to analysing and memorising a new 16-bar block.

And today was the first time I could not do it.

With great difficulty I learned 8 bars out of 16 and, in a state of emotional collapse, switched to other things.

If anyone wants to practice musical masochism, I am attaching a screenshot. I do not recommend sight-reading it. Learning it by heart even less.

Simplifying it here, it seems to me, does not make much sense. The sound becomes poorer, and the threads of voice leading are lost.

During the day, as usual, I devoted the second hour to “assembling” into one whole what I had learned over the previous 11 days.

In the evening I had one more hour. I was already tired, but decided to try to finish what I had started.

My brain rebelled, creaked, and cracked at the seams.

One minute before the church closed, I finally played those 16 bars from beginning to end by memory.

HELP!

In the morning, during the first hour of practice, I remembered all sorts of things.

The film about the pianist David Helfgott, which I had posted about today in BAZA and recommended watching — Shine.

And my adult student, with whom I studied about 15 years ago. She worked then as a top manager in quite a large company. Later, by the way, she moved to Sri Lanka and became a massage therapist.

She told me that she had finished both school and university with gold medals. And when, a few days before an important exam, she was preparing day and night, as they say, she had some kind of serious breakdown.

Her previously excellent memory suddenly stopped working normally — to the point where she could not remember a couple of sentences.

Later she gradually recovered, but ever since then she has deliberately tried not to memorise or keep anything in her head at all.

That is the story.

Surprisingly, my father, who also had a magnificent memory in his youth — and, incidentally, still has an excellent memory now — had a similar story.

Two or three days before an exam, he memorised a chemistry textbook as thick as Tolstoy’s War and Peace. Either the examiner disliked him, or something else was going on.

In the end, this professor went through the entire textbook while examining my father, and my father answered 100 percent of the questions perfectly.

The professor said something like, “I surrender,” and gave him the highest grade. On the five-point system.

My father, by the way, also finished both school and university with gold medals.

And he has said more than once that after that, his memory became worse. He said memory should not be overloaded.

So there you go — horror stories for the night.

From my own experience, I can say that memory can and should be trained. It is simply not worth driving yourself to extremes. These are real stories about real, very intelligent people.

The good news: the recapitulation of La Valse is visible on the horizon.

And although literally only a few bars repeat there, psychologically, I am sure, it is an important barrier.

Day 13

Today I used the only spare page I had.

I began the first hour of practice only after 18:00. I decided to finish learning the “transitional” 8 bars. I managed in about 30 minutes — there is no longer any hand crossing there — and spent another half hour working on yesterday’s page.

Then there was a break and another hour and a half of practice.

During that time I repeated a few previous pages, then quite confidently “walked through” 11 pages, and returned again to the last two.

Most likely, these are among the most difficult pages in La Valse — not only because of the third staff, but also because of the constant crossing of hands. And, as far as I understand, they later repeat in the recapitulation, only in different keys.

A preliminary conclusion: La Valse is not very difficult “for the hands.” The hardest thing is to analyse and learn the text, skilfully distributing this orchestral score between the hands.

I want to reach the recapitulation as soon as possible. I think there the excitement will appear to finish learning La Valse as quickly as possible.

Tip of the day: forget the term staccato in its general everyday meaning.

Staccato is articulation with the hands, not jumping around the keyboard.

As soon as you take your hands out of the keyboard, that is it — the connections are lost. Later it may seem as if memory is to blame, but very often the problem is precisely this “jumping” staccato.

Day 14

This evening I had an interesting insight.

I began practicing in the morning — as usual, immediately learning a new page. Then there was an hour break, and for another hour I continued learning the musical text by heart. It was very difficult.

Usually during the second hour I work on what I already more or less know by heart. This time it was new text again.

By the evening I had practiced one more hour and thought: if I then practice another hour and a half in the church, the total will be four and a half hours. That would be a record for the past few months.

But the record did not happen.

I came to the church as planned. I had exactly an hour and a half left. The recapitulation of La Valse was already not far away, and I decided to read through to the end of the piece.

That was a bad idea.

In the recapitulation the text is not easier — possibly even more difficult. And I began to have thoughts like: is this whole idea not insane? And in general, challenge or no challenge, perhaps this is already a bit too much.

So, to distract myself somehow, I began listening to recordings. I listened to three versions: Gryaznov, Babayan, and the orchestral version performed by the Orchestre National de France conducted by Bernstein.

Gryaznov was impressive, of course. Some things he does are simply magnificent. The climax is stunning. He plays La Valse in his own arrangement.

There are things one can agree with, and things one may not agree with. Sometimes he directly changes the harmonies, which I certainly would not do.

Some things could also be improved in terms of improvisation.

As Anatoly Zatin, with whom I was fortunate enough to study, says: “It can always be better.”

One can also recall the phrase attributed to Salvador Dalí: “Have no fear of perfection — you’ll never reach it.”

After Gryaznov, Babayan’s version, I admit honestly, did not work for me at all. Although he is an excellent pianist and musician, there is no question about that.

And then, after all this, I sat down at the piano again and began to look at La Valse completely differently.

I decided to make my own transcription.

Not in order to surpass Gryaznov at all costs. Rather the opposite: to add, to embellish only as much as is needed. Taking the orchestral version as a starting point, but making everything as comfortable as possible to perform.

Here I remembered how my good friend, a composer, and I once listened to a performance by the jazz musician Chick Corea. My friend is a jazz fanatic, and Andriy then told me: the genius of this jazz musician is that he plays exactly as many notes as are needed. Nothing extra.

By the way, this can be said first and foremost about Mozart.

Now, after this new way of seeing La Valse, it became easier for me. Much easier.

I no longer had the huge burden of thousands and thousands of flats and sharps whose order I had to memorise at all costs.

I became a co-composer.

And that is a special pleasure, although it also requires enormous concentration and is not easy at all.

Now the point for me is no longer only to learn La Valse as quickly as possible. Although, of course, I will try to complete the challenge and learn the text within a month.

But now it is more important for me to make my own version, one I can confidently perform anywhere.

The main task: as much as is needed. Nothing extra.

Not harmonies for the sake of harmonies, but to embellish an already fantastic work at the level of musical idea and image.

Incidentally, this is what distinguishes all great composers from simply brilliant improvisers.

We will see what comes of it.

In any case, I am very glad that every day I make small discoveries and can share them in the Practice Diary.

And yes, with all his genius — may Ravel fans forgive me, and I myself am one of them — it seems to me that Ravel was not a master of orchestration on the level of Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakov.

I listened to the orchestral version and understood that in places it could be done better.

But it can always be better.

And the key thing, of course, is to actually do it. Not just think about it.

Day 15

Today I practiced exactly one hour.

The computer “ate” the whole day.

I came to the church at half past eight and met Tim. I worked with him for about 20 minutes on Ravel — Scarbo.

Then I went down to the basement and literally attacked the piano.

And that piano, by the way, is about 100 years old.

I practiced “one hour as three.”

I did not learn a single new note, but I worked very well on the beginning.

Of course, playing La Valse is much more enjoyable than learning it by heart.

But after yesterday’s “revelation,” things are clearly going better.

Touch wood.

Have a good weekend and inspiring practice, everyone.

Day 16

I practiced for about two and a half hours.

I did not learn anything new, but redistributed some awkward passages before the recapitulation between the hands differently, and now they are much more comfortable.

I also worked on and moved forward what had already been learned.

In general, I am very happy. La Valse is moving. Tim confirmed this today when I played him about a third of the piece — up to those few difficult pages before the recapitulation.

In the evening I also repeated Chopin Etudes Op. 25.

A few days ago, by the way, I repeated Op. 10. In principle, I remember everything overall, although in a few places the text slipped a little. But I prefer not to stop and to continue playing, as in concert, in order to see the overall picture better.

Later I will repeat them all once more, and if the same places fail again, I will work on them a bit.

A few days ago I also repeated Scriabin’s slow Etude in C-sharp minor. I played it almost perfectly. After La Valse, the text there no longer seemed difficult.

From this I drew the following conclusion: when you actively learn something new, memory is in good condition, and you perhaps remember the “old” pieces even better. A paradox of sorts.

The conclusion, of course not for the lazy, suggests itself: constantly learn something new.

Your programme grows, your level grows accordingly, and old pieces improve almost by themselves.

But it is one thing to understand this, and another to learn something new every day.

And then, of course, the thoughts begin: should I perhaps run through some scales? After all, there is some benefit in them.

Although no, scales are for the lazy. Better to practice properly — with the “Smart Fermata.”

I hope no one screenshots this and sends my “subtle” trolling to M. A.

In general, the mood is good.

The challenge helps.

And yes, the revelation from the day before yesterday has already passed, and I have decided not to change anything in La Valse.

But I think it is very cool that the whole path with La Valse will remain in the Diary.

Who knows where such a creative approach may lead the day after tomorrow. But sharing my thoughts and reading the experiences of other participants in the challenge is truly interesting.

Day 17

I practiced for about two hours.

Mostly I learned one 16-bar block — the very one on which I slowed down several days ago.

But now I have found a good way to distribute the hands, and in principle this block has more or less settled in my head.

Tomorrow there is another one just like it.

Then comes an interesting passage before the recapitulation.

If I assess the situation realistically, then at the concert on May 29 I can quite possibly play up to the recapitulation in a raw version.

In my life experience — not only in practicing — if by a given deadline I manage to complete half, that is already a very good result.

Because I usually set myself many tasks in different projects.

So here too I will be satisfied with that result.

For the concert on June 10, of course, I would like to learn La Valse in its entirety, but we will see.

Today I also practiced with the method: one hand on the piano, the other on the lid.

Tomorrow I will need to record another video about it, because the method is really excellent.

You hear one hand and discover many new and interesting things in the harmony. You truly enjoy them.

But at the same time you need to keep switching to the other hand, which you play on the lid, and hear it with the inner ear.

This trains memory and that very inner hearing very well. Coordination too, and so on.

I am not abandoning the walking method either.

Today I also discovered a new technique, as far as I know previously unexplored.

I will record a video about it sometime.

Day 18

I practiced for two hours.

I worked on a couple of difficult pages before the recapitulation.

Things are moving.

Slowly, but steadily.

Day 19

A couple of hours.

Day 20

I managed to practice for an hour in the morning and then left on a trip.

Day 21

Today I did not practice, but I walked through the piece for almost an hour.

It really helps refresh and not forget recently learned musical text.

Day 22

Today was a “record.”

I neither practiced nor walked.

But I think it is a good moment for a reset.

From tomorrow — brace yourself, La Valse.

Day 23

Today I did not manage to “surprise” La Valse very much.

I practiced for about an hour and a half, and most of that time was not La Valse. After a three-day break, I wanted to warm up my hands better and return to working condition.

The computer “ate” most of the day — the first competitor of La Valse after the phone.

But the main thing is that I am back in the game.

Day 24

One and a half hours. I worked on one passage. I repeated the text as a whole a couple of times.

I understand perfectly well that I need to add more daily practice hours, otherwise I will learn La Valse by September, not earlier.

So, starting tomorrow, from next week.

Day 25

Today again one and a half hours. I worked on some passages in La Valse and played through what I already know a couple of times.

Ideally, in order to move forward at a good pace, I think I need about two hours a day for learning new text and the same amount for general work.

Now I only need to find the time and strength. But overall, the process is moving, and that is encouraging.

Day 26

Today two hours. I learned as many as five new bars.

I also worked on the difficult pages before the recapitulation. Something is beginning to clear up. I think in the next few days everything should connect into one whole.

By the end of May, in theory, half of La Valse will be in a good draft version. If I learn the second half in June, I would be happy to play La Valse at our concert in Prague.

Day 27

Everything according to the already clearly established system. Two hours.

Incidentally, since my youth I have noticed that this is the maximum amount of piano practice per day that can still bring me pleasure. After that, intense work begins.

Day 28

Today one hour.

Day 29

Again one hour. I think I will speed things up in June.

Day 30

Today as much as three hours. I feel this is on the edge of my possibilities.

I wonder what pianists are made of if they can practice 12–14 hours a day.

Day 31

Well, I think it is time to sum up.

I wanted to calculate how much I practiced on average, but I am too lazy. Approximately it was about two hours a day, which is, of course, too little if one is trying to reach the big stage.

Nevertheless, the process is moving. Half of La Valse is almost ready. The goal for June is also clear — to learn the second half.

Of course, I changed the programme for the concert on June 10. But I would very much like to perform La Valse in Prague on July 2. We will see.

The challenge gave a certain impulse. And, of course, the first two weeks were the most productive. Little by little it turned into ordinary work, but that is a natural and inevitable process that cannot be avoided.

In any case, I am very happy with the result.

A month ago, the very idea of performing La Valse on July 22 here in Sweden, at the festival, was still in question. Now managing it by July 22 seems quite realistic.

And then La Valse will be in the repertoire, and it can be played endlessly.

In a broader sense, I am even exceeding my plan now, since this year is dedicated to Chopin Etudes. La Valse will already go into next year’s programme.

Good luck to everyone.