How many wrong notes is too many?

I have two favourite quotes about music. The first was said by Beethoven, one of the greatest composers of all time. He said:

“wrong notes don’t matter”.

Yes, I know that Beethoven was deaf and so was probably less bothered by wrong notes than most people but that’s not the point. The second quote, which is not so different, is from another of my favourite composers: Gustav Mahler, who said

“what is important in music is not the notes”.

Neither composer was suggesting it’s fine to disregard the score and play wrong notes like there’s no tomorrow. What both were saying is that although the printed notes  present us with a piece of music, simply playing them does not necessarily convey what the composer intended. You may have heard a musician play a piece very well or even perfectly but been left unmoved (unless of course you are a proud parent, whose overriding emotion at the end of the performance is one of relief that your child ‘got through it’!). Playing the notes is not enough. There has to be an understanding of what lies behind them. Why did the composer write them? What is the composer trying to say? In communicating that to the listener, the musician has to do more than simply execute what has been written on the page. In doing so, particularly in challenging pieces, there can be a risk of playing the odd wrong note (or three). But, if the intent and understanding is there, the wrong notes will be forgotten. If, on the other hand, the performer plays too carefully, so as to avoid wrong notes, there is a danger that the performance itself will be forgotten!

When I first started listening to classical music, I heard a performance by the great Russian pianist, Emil Gilels, who was playing a piece that I was working on at the time. At the ‘big bit’ in the middle, he splashed away and there were more than a few wrong notes. But who cared? Certainly not me. The performance was thrilling and conveyed much more than I had realised was in the music. I was playing all the right notes (in the right order) but communicating far less than was in the music. For this reason, I always tell pupils that if they’re going to play a wrong note, they might as well make it a big one! If one worries too much about making mistakes, one’s playing will be timid and fearful. The wrong notes might be quieter but the right notes will not have any impact and the audience will probably be asleep when you do ‘go wrong’.

One of my favourite pianists is the great Argentinian – Martha Argerich, 83 years old at the time of writing and still playing with all the energy and virtuosity of a pianist fifty years younger. I very much regret not having heard her play live. One of her (many) attributes is her ability to play octaves very fast (I was going to explain, for non-pianists, what that means but the explanation ended up sounding so complicated for something actually quite straightforward, that I’m not going to bother!). Suffice to say Argerich throws off octaves like I play single notes. But the (also great) musician Daniel Barenboim noted that what was great about Argerich’s playing is not how fast she plays octaves – plenty of other pianists can do that, he said. What makes her playing of them so great is her ability to make music of them. Where other pianists simply thunder through them, Miss Argerich thunders whilst conveying a sense of music, which is much harder. What is important in music is not the octaves. I digress.

At a very interesting talk about music exams, we were told that examiners are not really listening for wrong notes and marking the candidate down for them. What they want, instead, is that sense of an understanding of the music and the ability to engage the listener. The examiner wants to enjoy a performance and get something from it. This being the case, someone who plays wrong notes could actually end up being awarded a Distinction while another, note-perfect candidate, is given a bare pass. If that sounds unfair, it’s not. Because, as Mahler said – what is important in music is not the notes!

This does give me a bit of a dilemma, though, when teaching. My current pupils are all adults (having taught children for most of my career, I’m enjoying not working with them at the moment – the dynamic is different). None of them is working towards exams, they are all simply playing for pleasure. They work on music which appeals to them, which may be pop songs, jazz or music from video games. They all practise, of course, but have busy lives and may not always practise as much as they need to. How many wrong notes should I pick up on in their lessons? None of my pupils is planning to become a concert pianist and no-one is likely to judge their playing – they play because they want to. If the odd wrong note slips into their playing I find myself making a judgement as to whether I should point it out or leave it. Sometimes I address it, and sometimes I do not. I find myself questioning how much that note matters. If it is in the melody I am more likely to mention it but if it is tucked away in the accompaniment and doesn’t really affect the music, I will probably let it go. Some teachers might consider this sloppy on my part but I think one needs to prioritise. Are the notes more important than the pupil’s enjoyment? In this case, I think not. I’m firmly of the opinion that if you don’t enjoy music you shouldn’t be doing it.

I suppose I’m a little hypocritical here in that, if my pupil were playing a piece of Mozart or Debussy, and not Elton John or Billy Joel, I might be more fussy about the notes but, in the case of the two classical composers, one note can actually make a huge difference. With Sir Elton or Billy (both fine composers who I both respect and admire), individual notes can matter less if the spirit of the performance is true. As Benjamin Britten said (another quote): “Sounding right is all that matters”. 

I take a similar approach to working with amateur musicians and singers. There are times when I might be pernickety over the notes and try to get every single note right. But there are other occasions when I know that my group will not be note perfect and that to continue hammering away at the notes will be both demoralising and miserable for everyone. I used to work with someone who valued right notes almost above all. She might eventually bring her choir to somewhere near perfection but not before they had endured many repetitive and frustrating rehearsals. (“No, that’s wrong. Again.” she would say. I came to realise that the word “No” was the one she used most.) Her choirs gave many polished performances and just as many joyless ones.

For this reason, I always emphasise the need to give character to one’s music-making. We owe it to the composer to realise their intentions but we also owe it not only to the composer but to the audience to communicate something. A note-perfect performance might be acknowledged but a performance that speaks will be enjoyed and remembered. Equally, for the performer, there should be more to performing than simply realising the notes. The whole process is more meaningful and rewarding if you are putting something of yourself into your musicmaking.  Interpreting a piece of music or putting your own ‘spin’ on it makes the process a creative one rather than a recreative one. To put one’s own stamp on a piece is one of the many joys of music.

I don’t want any of the above to suggest a cavalier and “I know best” approach to playing. If you sing or play an instrument, do please respect what the composer wrote and try your best to realise it. But remember, too, that what the composer wrote and what the composer was saying are two different things. Don’t get too worked up about playing a wrong note – it’s better to be brave than to be careful! Or, as the pianist Arthur Schnabel said: “safety last!”.