[MUSIC PLAYING]
SPEAKER 1: We're really,
really happy to have you
all here today and
really, really excited
to be presenting--
whoop-- on screen--
we'll have to move
that over to make
sure you're on screen too-- to
presenting Hershey Felder, who
is currently appearing
at Theater Works
through July 9 in
his one-man show,
"Hershey Felder, Beethoven,"
which is yet another
in a series of the
remarkable sets of shows
that he's put together over
the past many, many years.
He's done Chopin.
He's done Tchaikovsky.
He's done Irving Berlin.
He's done Leonard
Bernstein, Gershwin.
You name it, it seems
like he's played
that music and the
composer and the musician.
When the presenters asked if
we could do Beethoven here,
I said, that would be great.
But we don't have
room with a piano that
would be appropriate.
And Steinway very graciously
trucked in this Steinway B.
So thanks so much for
Hershey for coming.
And thanks so much to
Steinway for providing
this wonderful, wonderful
piano that I think
you're all going to enjoy.
So we have some brochures about
the ongoing Theater Works'
production of this current show,
"Beethoven," which is breaking
all records at Theater Works.
His previous show
on Irving Berlin
broke the records the
last time he was here.
And I just found out
that, as of two days ago,
he just broke his own record.
So this is a fantastic show.
If you're lucky enough to be
able to get tickets between now
and July 9, please do.
But in the meantime, enjoy
"Hershey Felder, Beethoven"
right here at Google.
HERSHEY FELDER: Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]
To be more specific [AUDIO OUT]
break my own record.
It's good to know that
Beethoven broke Irving Berlin's
record actually.
[LAUGHTER]
I'm just a vehicle for doing
this stuff and telling stories.
A lot of this is
both talking to you
in music-- which is what
I do actually in reality.
It's creating character as
well as playing the music
and looking very
carefully at the music
as we create the character.
When I started this, probably
25 years ago, people simply
laughed at me.
They said, nobody
is going to come.
Nobody knows who you are.
Nobody cares.
And I wanted to start
with Chopin above all.
So people said, well
"Chop-in"-- who knows "Chop-in?"
And you want to call
it Monsieur "Chop-in."
So nobody's going
to know anything.
Nobody recognizes your name.
What's a Hershey Felder?
Why don't you start
with somebody who's
a little bit more recognizable?
At this point, I met members
of the Gershwin family.
And I said, well, I play
"The Rhapsody in Blue."
Why don't I create the role of
George Gershwin, just as a fun
thing.
And somebody in Hollywood
said, pull back your hair.
So I did.
They said, gee.
You've got the same nose.
I said, [AUDIO OUT].
It travels well.
So I created the character
of George Gershwin.
And all of a sudden,
this whole idea took off.
It's become a bit of
a cottage industry,
but a little more than that.
So the idea is, really--
one of the things that's
wonderful about this kind
of stuff is that I get
to engage audience.
And I've engaged audience
anywhere from 18,000
at Ravinia in Chicago, where
I talked to them directly
and they ask questions,
to a small audience,
like we have today, a nice, very
esoteric, thoughtful audience,
everybody with their
computers in their laps.
It's just--
[LAUGHTER]
Which brings me to this
gentleman's question.
So [AUDIO OUT].
AUDIENCE: John.
HERSHEY FELDER: John.
And tell me what happened, John,
for the rest of the crowd here.
And I'll repeat for--
AUDIENCE: I was at your
performance, I think,
two Thursdays ago.
And we found out later,
a PG&E transformer blew.
And the whole theater went dark.
And--
HERSHEY FELDER: It was the most
exciting night in the theater.
So there I am, 20 minutes into
this show-- and this gentleman
says, I was there.
Has that ever happened?
So let me just preface this
by saying, you'd think,
in Mountain View, the technology
would always be working.
And apparently, not the case.
So there I was on stage.
There were 600
people in the house.
John was one of them.
I begin the
"Beethoven" show, which
begins very derelictly
with Beethoven's very
first composition.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "9
VARIATIONS IN C MINOR"]
Imagine, he was 11-years-old.
And even then, he
had a sense of hope.
And then, I get to
some fancy part.
Blackout!
And I said, this
is very effective.
But it wasn't just a blackout.
It was a bang.
It was a pop.
All of a sudden, lights went.
Sound went.
And black.
And 600 people sat there.
And I said, OK, now what?
And so, clearly,
the mics were off.
The electricity was gone.
And I said, ladies
and gentlemen, this
is not part of the show.
Because I think people
thought, oh, this
is one of those exciting
moments where we've
gone into Beethoven's darkness.
I've already explained that his
father beat the hell out of him
as a kid and that it's
possibly that's why
he went deaf later in life,
because his father beat him.
We have clear evidence that his
father beat him as a child--
and his head.
And so, I explain
to the audience,
this has nothing
to do with that.
Please, stay in your places.
Now, you don't
know you're dealing
with a lot of different ages,
especially in a show like that.
People begin to panic.
They got scared.
I thought we did
OK, don't you think?
But 600 people-- and I
thought, this is terrifying.
It's black in this room.
There's no way out.
I said, ladies and gentlemen,
this is not part of the show.
And it's not a joke.
Something's happened
with the power.
Just sit there.
OK, so they sit.
And then we wait for staff
to tell us what's going on,
what happened.
What we find out later
is that some doofus
was playing with his
drone in the park
and flew the drone into a
transformer and blew it up.
So the entire of 1,600
people in Mountain View
didn't have electricity
for god-knows-what,
including our theater.
Now, the lights only
come on for 20 minutes--
the emergency lights.
And so, I take off.
And I say, well,
figure it this way.
Why don't I ask the
audience questions?--
like I will with you today.
And audience ask questions.
So one lady says, I
saw all your shows.
And I didn't see
the Gershwin show.
So can you do me a
favor and tell us
about the Gershwin show?
And I said, why not?
And so, I played a little
bit of the Gershwin show--
[MUSIC - GEORGE GERSHWIN,
 "RHAPSODY IN BLUE"]
--and explained that that theme
was sold to United Airlines
for $3 million in
1980-- four bars--
in 1985 or something like that.
So you can think of
George Gershwin, who
died at the age
of 38, not knowing
how successful he would become.
His brother, Ira--
and he died suddenly
from fulminating
brain tumor that he'd
had since he was a child.
And it just fulminated.
Imagine all that
music that we know.
Suddenly, at 38, [SNAPS]
just like that, America
lost such a voice.
And there, all of a sudden, we
have, all these years later,
United Airlines buying
it for $3 million.
I could suggest
that United Airlines
would have spent better money
doing other things lately.
But you know, that's
a whole other story.
[LAUGHTER]
Maybe personal relations--
the kind of thing
would probably be
better, ultimately,
to understand the value
of music and composing.
And if we can only begin to
understand what Beethoven did--
the technology that is being
created here on these premises,
things that are happening, is
essentially what Beethoven did,
a man who was completely
deaf, who changed
the entire world of music.
Up until Beethoven's
time, certainly,
when he started
to go deaf, music
was essentially a
descriptive form.
There were rules.
What you never did was
fifths in parallels.
[PIANO CHORDS]
You did a little bit
IN old church singing,
but generally not.
Certainly, fourths never went.
[PIANO CHORDS]
Because that's kind of ugly.
There's something
wonderfully ugly about it.
And Beethoven started
breaking those rules.
And of course, his
teacher, Haydn,
couldn't stand the fact
that Beethoven was actually
making ugly music.
But while Beethoven was
busy making ugly music,
taking the first chord of the
"C Minor Pathetique Sonata"--
[PIANO CHORD]
Listen to that.
It doesn't sound like anything
except ugly, doesn't it?
It's just thick.
It's ugly.
It's rich.
[PIANO CHORDS]
What does that mean?
Essentially, Beethoven broke
all the fine elegant rules
of music-making.
Whereas, Mozart would
have structured it--
[PIANO CHORDS]
--and somebody else-- Haydn
would have structured it,
Beethoven, he takes all the
emotion, all the energy,
and he packs it
into a solid chord
right at the very
beginning of a sonata,
right at the point where
he starts to go deaf.
Now, what does this do?
This changes the world of music.
Because up until that
point, music was elegant.
Suddenly, music became personal.
It became emotional.
It became an expression of a
man basically screaming inside,
what is happening to me?
Now, you have to think--
look, I'm a musician--
God forbid it shouldn't happen--
I go deaf.
It'll be painful for me
and a few of my friends
that I will scream at.
But quite, frankly
nobody will really care.
But Beethoven--
think of the person
who has changed
technology today,
whoever that one
person is, suddenly
being impeded from being able
to do that, whatever it is.
The brain stops
functioning, whatever it is.
Or any one of you
who are developing
these incredible things today--
that suddenly, the one
gift that you have,
the one thing that you
have above everybody
else-- in Beethoven's
case, perfect hearing
and perfect sense of invention--
suddenly disappears on you.
And you have enough
faculty left to understand
that that has disappeared.
What do you do?
So here was a man
who was able to take
everything going against him and
still create beautiful music.
My theory has always been,
in the case of Beethoven,
that music changed because
he couldn't self-edit.
Most of us, as we go through
life, we write things.
And then we say, ah, tomorrow,
I have to give a Google talk.
I'm going to write it down.
And boy, I'm going
to sound brilliant.
Because, look, it's
just genius on paper.
And then I stand up in front
of people, and I start talking.
I sound like a total nitwit.
Why?
Because what lives and
breathes in air and space
is very different than what
exists in your head on paper.
In this kind of communication,
that has to work.
So it takes a lifetime
to understand that.
Beethoven no longer
had the ability
to go into a theater
in a concert hall,
sit and listen,
and go, you know,
that doesn't sound so good.
I think I meant that on paper.
But now, when I hear it
with the whole orchestra,
it doesn't quite
work out for me.
I think I should shift this
note here and this note there.
That'll give a different color.
It will tell a different story.
He didn't do that.
What he did was,
essentially, put on paper
what he imagined in the sonic
world that remained in his head
and left that for
us to interpret.
And because of
that, we were forced
to go to his sonic world in his
imagination, not a sonic world
that he fixed to make it correct
for us to hear and understand.
Of course, when it
comes to Beethoven,
he still had a sense of
melody, a sense of harmony,
that was absolutely beautiful.
One of the pieces that I'll
just play for you simply--
and then we can begin our
interactive discussion--
is the piece that, essentially,
was last published,
40 years after he died.
It was discovered-- and there
are several versions to it.
Nobody knows where
it really originated,
if the original notes that we
now play are his actual notes.
But it's interesting that,
whatever it is, the story
that is behind all of it--
discovering this
piece so much after he
died, not knowing to
who it was written,
because apparently--
several things.
One, the inscription could
have been copied down wrong.
Or Beethoven's hand was so messy
that the guy who copied it down
got the name wrong.
Nobody knows.
But this piece, "Fur Elise,"
that every student plays,
that every young person
plays when you get
introduced to the piano, that
very piece is Beethoven Lore.
And yet, it's the lore that
we have put upon the piece.
And what is really interesting
about it is that it does
somehow reveal, in
its most basic form--
probably composed in 1810--
a very sensitive, very elegant,
and very heartfelt Beethoven.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FUR ELISE"]
[APPLAUSE]
Simple and elegant
and beautiful-- so now
the floor gets to be
open to questions.
And you get to ask
anything about Beethoven,
about what it is I do,
anything you want to know.
But you must ask, in order
to make this fun and work.
So go ahead.
Don't be shy.
Over there, I saw
you have a question.
SPEAKER 1: But wait
for the microphone.
HERSHEY FELDER: Now, wait
for the microphone, they say.
Anybody?
Yes, over there.
There's a gentlemen
at the-- no, not you.
Right here, the lady.
Go ahead.
AUDIENCE: Thank you.
We saw your show last night
and absolutely loved it.
HERSHEY FELDER: Say that
louder, a lot louder.
[LAUGHTER]
AUDIENCE: We saw the show
last night in Mountain View
and absolutely loved it.
HERSHEY FELDER:
Now it's well done.
Yes!
Thank you, that's very kind.
Thank you for coming.
AUDIENCE: In the
program notes, where
it says, more biographical
information about some
of the other people who were
involved in the production,
it doesn't say, for instance,
where you were born,
where you were educated--
HERSHEY FELDER: OK.
AUDIENCE: Things like that.
HERSHEY FELDER: Things
like that-- so basic things
about me, where I was
born, I was educated.
I was born in a land far
off, very much so north.
I am an immigrant
to this country.
I was born, essentially,
where we all live in igloos
and cook outside and
hunt fish and whatever.
I was born in Montreal, Canada
and came to this country
30 years ago to study.
And I went to study
with Jerry Lowenthal,
a great pianist at Juilliard.
And he was the director.
I was not a student
at Juilliard.
But I was one of his
private students.
I was an apprentice,
I would say.
And I was beginning
to develop my life
in New York and
this understanding
that I wanted to do
both theater and music.
I had a proper training,
as a kid in Montreal--
great musicians there, fabulous.
And then I went,
as a young person,
to McGill, when I was 13.
And I studied piano
there with Dorothy Morton
and Eugene Plawutsky.
And I studied composition.
And I studied
conducting and really
set on a path of wanting to
do something that nobody did,
which was combining theater
and music all into one.
And as I said earlier,
everybody laughed at that,
because it's not something
that goes together.
It doesn't make sense.
First of all, acting
is very extroverted.
And I was an actor as
a young person as well.
I studied traditional acting
in proper theater school.
And I grew up as an actor.
But I also grew up as a
pianist and a musician.
And I was told very
often-- in fact,
when I auditioned for Yale
as a kid, as a 15-year-old--
which was a nutso thing to do--
for the acting
program, they were
talking about my
accomplishments as a pianist.
And they said, well, you
need to pay attention
to one or the other.
And it became very clear to
me, for the next 10 years,
I needed to spend
time with music.
Because one can always learn
to become a better actor as one
grows.
But if you don't pay attention
to your music as you grow up,
you're finished.
So for the next 10 years,
although I acted a little bit,
I paid very close attention
to both musicianship
and studying the
real craft of music.
Then, when I was
26, 27-years-old,
this whole notion of creating
"Gershwin" came together.
I opened it in Los Angeles.
And stars started showing up.
And I thought,
what's going on here?
Something's very wrong.
The kinds of characters
that showed up to see me--
popular stars, Warren
Beatty and Annette Bening
and Neil Simon and
Paul Thomas Anderson,
movie-makers and so on.
I said, I may be
on to something.
And it took off and,
within a few years,
became the Gershwins' highest
growing entity for the estate.
And I thought, maybe
there's a story to this.
Why don't I do Chopin?
Everybody laughed.
Nobody's going to come.
I did that.
And it worked.
And I took us into Poland and
Paris in the 1830s and 1840s.
And everybody laughed at me.
Fine.
Then, that worked.
And then, I said, I'm
going to do Beethoven.
And everybody laughed at that.
They said, nobody will come.
Nobody cares.
Nobody's interested.
Yesterday, it was announced
that it broke the record here
by, I think, 300% or 400%.
So it's not about
me or what I do.
I'm just a vehicle to
tell these stories.
It's about these characters
and how much they mean.
And as technology advances,
as we learn new things,
one of the interesting
things is to always
look at people who came
before us who changed whatever
technical means and
whatever things that changed
the world, as we grew
up, as they grew up,
and to understand what they did.
And for me, the most interesting
thing about Beethoven
or Gershwin or anyone--
you think about Gershwin.
And we now know jazz.
But you think about
that clarinet solo
at the beginning
of "The Rhapsody."
It starts with a
trill like this.
[PIANO CHORDS]
And then, the clarinet is placed
half way, up till about there.
And then he bends the note.
"Oo-wya-a da-da-da-da."
On the piano, you can't do that.
Because a piano
doesn't bend notes.
They're specific, right?
So you do this.
[MUSIC - GEORGE GERSHWIN,
 "RHAPSODY IN BLUE"]
We hear that today.
It sounds like we're going
to take off in an airplane
and everything's going to--
[LAUGHTER]
Or you're going to be
told, in various languages,
to put your suit on like this.
And if you go in
water, this thing
goes-- blowing in your whistle.
Whatever.
The point is to be
ridiculous and funny as well.
But when something
like that happens,
the interesting
thing for all of us,
whatever it is we do invent,
is to think back before that.
Think back to something that
seems evident and obvious
to us today and a given and what
must have been like to invent
something like that.
Interestingly enough, Gershwin
did write a glissando.
Now, a glissando, essentially,
if you're on the piano,
means this.
[PIANO SCALE]
You take the back of your
finger and you roll up the keys.
And it sort of connects
the keys in that way.
It's not an even scale.
It just "schwoo"-- like that.
But if you write a
glissando in a clarinet,
it's a different kind of thing.
He did write that.
But the story goes
that they were
busy rehearsing "The
Rhapsody in Blue"
in 1924 for the first appearance
in 43rd Street at Aeolian Hall.
And apparently, the
clarinetist was bored.
He was bored to tears.
The rehearsal was boring.
And he was just
fidgeting around.
And he went la-da-da-da-da
da-da-da-da-raaah nya-na-na.
And then suddenly, you
heard this screaming siren.
And everybody thought
George Gershwin
was going to fly off the
handle and get really mad.
But George Gershwin,
the inventor,
realized, this is
going to change music.
And he kept that crazy
clarinet glissando in,
that screaming siren
that basically announced,
jazz is here.
Jazz is here to stay.
Jazz is in the concert hall.
And it's important.
Fine.
But think back to the
day before that rehearsal
when that sound didn't
exist, a sound that we
consider so American now.
Or a dance rhythm that you--
[SINGING]
[UPBEAT MUSIC]
That kind of stuff,
before it existed,
where did this stuff come from?
Similarly, to
Beethoven-- the story
goes that "The Fifth
Symphony," that it's
fate knocking on the door.
And he heard his fate.
And he was going deaf.
And everything was going wrong.
Ta-ta-ta-ta!
God is coming to get me.
And Beethoven said,
absolutely not.
I went for a walk in the park.
I felt a little bird
knocking on a tree.
[KNOCKING]
And all of a sudden--
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FIFTH
SYMPHONY"]
A little bird knocking.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FIFTH
SYMPHONY"]
It's actually very sweet.
It doesn't start--
[ROUGH PLAYING]
No, it's pianissimo--
piano, actually.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FIFTH
 SYMPHONY"]
And it's mystical.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FIFTH
 SYMPHONY"]
The invention of the composer--
what you hear in
something very simple,
in the most basic element
that suddenly blossoms
into a whole other world.
And that's what Beethoven did.
And the deafer he got, the more
inventive the music became.
He went into this sonic universe
that was in his imagination.
And it was actually miraculous.
And why it's so interesting
to talk about this stuff here
is because, 100
and some odd years
ago, had he had
this opportunity,
he would be the one talking
about the kinds of things
that you are doing.
And that's what I
find fascinating,
to think about the day
before the inventor appeared
on the scene, the day before
the invention appeared there.
What does it take
to get to something
that has no reference to
what has come before it?
Or draws on what has
come before it only
to invent something new?
I have been a
specialist in looking
at the day of the invention
and what has been done.
To try and invent
something new, to me,
is beyond even the imagination.
Where does that
miracle come from?
And how does it happen?
And that's a fascinating
thing to think about.
Another question, please.
Yes, over here.
AUDIENCE: This is a question
I've been pondering about.
I think it's related.
When does a collection
of noises become music?
There's a--
HERSHEY FELDER: When does
a collection of noises
become music?
Well, for certain
composers, as soon
as they get up in the morning
and go to the bathroom,
that noise is apparently music.
And so the question is less,
when does it become music?
When did a white painting
become great art?
At what point?
So who defines what that is?
Well, for me, the best
story of that is Chopin.
Everybody has inventions.
And there's a
funny Jewish story.
I love this story.
And it's all about storytelling.
So it's a modern art exhibition.
It happens in LA.
And I'll explain
later what it means.
A modern art exhibition
that happens in LA.
And people go.
And there's this white canvas.
It's huge.
It's 5' by 3'.
It's sitting there
in the museum.
And the critics are coming.
Ooh!
Ah!
[GASP] Look what's inside!
Ooh!
It's white.
It's blank.
Ooh!
Ahh!
Don't you see what that is?
Three weeks later,
the same artist
comes back with a development
on the first thing.
He comes with the
same white painting
except, in the lower right hand
corner, are two small dots.
The critics come and they look.
And they analyze.
And they look at the two
small dots and go, egh!
[YIDDISH]
So [YIDDISH] means, eh,
overstuffed, too much, too--
that's the whole thing.
What is art?
Art is in the perception of the
person who is looking at it.
But for me, Chopin
really got it right.
Art really is created
by the artist.
But time is the deciding factor.
He said this.
He said, I have no idea
if this piece is good.
In 100 years, ask me.
And I will tell you.
And that's really the idea.
An artist can have an idea.
But what we think
today is great art--
and this is what's interesting.
What is purported as
being by the critics,
be it a play or this or that--
people are talking about the
new play "Hamilton" and so on.
It's a very effective piece.
I've seen it on Broadway twice.
Will it be around in 100 years?
And will it mean the
same thing in 100 years
that even "Fiddler on the
Roof" now means to us,
even though it was created
those 60 years ago?
50 years ago?
Or whatever it is?
--a little bit more than that.
We don't know.
We can only know then.
And time is the great
decider for that.
So when does art become art?
When does noise become art?
George Gershwin said
that he would go down
the streets of Manhattan
and the noise of the city
is what created his music.
Beethoven-- it was
obviously the noise
that was in his spirit that
had to come out in that way.
What I think art becomes is
when it touches enough people
to mean something.
That's when noise becomes music.
It's not defined by
the artist as a rule.
And it's not defined by
an audience as a rule.
It's defined as how
long it takes for art
to become something that goes
into the spirit and moves
people.
And if it moves people,
it will stick around.
That's why Shakespeare
is still around.
This stuff is still
around because it's human.
And I think the
artists who stick
to being human and not
pretentious or cleverer
than are the artists who tend
to stick around the longest.
And the struggle is to find
the honesty in the work,
to make sure that that happens.
And in far as my own work,
that's a struggle every day,
is not to be pretentious
about what it is,
to just be simple and
straightforward and human.
And I think the danger
now is, because there
is so much pretense
on the internet
and so everybody has an opinion,
is that people try to please
too many people too often.
And so what lands up happening
is a lot of pretense,
as opposed to just a
simple honest expression,
and let it out there
to see what happens.
Another question, please.
Yes, over there-- gentleman
AUDIENCE: I have a related
question to that also.
HERSHEY FELDER: Sure.
AUDIENCE: So, in tech, it's
actually quite easy for us
to invent.
Because we just look for
challenges people have.
And then we just
find the challenge,
and the invention kind
of happens naturally.
And I've heard from some people
that these great artists often
used the world as a mirror.
And they're making
music that mirrors,
like, a social movement, some
outlet for people to have
an outlet for their emotions.
And I wanted to see if
there's truth to that
and what your thoughts are.
Maybe there are other ways.
HERSHEY FELDER: Sure.
AUDIENCE: How do
people get [INAUDIBLE]..
HERSHEY FELDER: Well, what you
are saying, in terms of people
are looking, in your business,
for a need for something
specific.
And then the inventor
goes and follows the need.
I think, similarly
to the artist,
people are looking
for human connection.
They're looking for anything
that will be, like you say,
the mirror, or will
relate to their own lives,
or will be able to be
a form of expression.
And I think the artist
is intending very much
to say that.
And I've always said about
the performance art, when
it comes to performance
art, if someone is just
wanting to perform
for themselves
and not taking the audience into
any kind of consideration, what
lands up happening is perform in
your basement for your mirror.
You perform for yourself.
But the whole thing is
interrelated and very much so
exactly what you say.
You find the need.
You find the niche.
And you go in there,
and you tell the story
or create the invention.
Similarly, for artists,
I think artists find
a story that needs to be told.
They tell it.
And somehow, there is
an audience for it.
There's two types.
There's a lot of
fashion in Hollywood
today to create art
for the audience that's
going to buy, for the
tweeners or whatever,
so on and so forth.
And the idea of the artist
is to take that need
and to push even beyond.
Then, there are artists who
don't care what anybody has
to say about anything they do.
And they just go ahead.
So art-- it can be
very many things.
But one thing that's very
important is commercial art
or art that is
being sold, art that
actually is valuable
dollar-wise, is not dirty.
And that has been a very
big mistake over the years.
Some of the greatest art--
the Beethovens, the
Chopins, the Gershwins--
they were all highly
conscious that their art had
to be sold, that they
need to make a living.
And there is monetary
value to their art.
And this notion of
living like a poor artist
in some dreg in some basement
in Manhattan with roaches--
that's absolute nonsense.
An artist is a person who sees
the world in a certain way
and then reflects it
through their medium,
through their prism, to
other people to share.
So it's exactly what
you're saying it is.
It is that mirror,
that reflection.
Someone else.
We'll go back over
there perhaps.
SPEAKER 1: [INAUDIBLE]
AUDIENCE: Hi.
I'm curious about the design
elements of your performances.
Because, for example,
the Beethoven show
is set in a cemetery--
kind of dark.
Whereas, Chopin--
HERSHEY FELDER: Fun!
Its fun in a cemetery.
[LAUGHTER]
No, I'm kidding.
AUDIENCE: It was
interesting though.
When you're portraying
Beethoven as--
well, reflecting
back in his youth,
it's kind of an
odd juxtaposition.
Because it's looking forward
to his ultimate death
and the final scene and so on.
But then, "Chopin"-- you
had it set in a salon.
And there's the whole framing
of the lesson and so on.
So I'm curious about how you
make those design decisions.
HERSHEY FELDER: Mm-hm, sure.
AUDIENCE: To trade off the
art versus the performance
versus the set.
HERSHEY FELDER: Sure.
Well, one of the things
that has been very integral
in the creation of these pieces
is to set them in a location
whereby the audience
makes sense.
For instance, today we're
having a discussion in a set up
whereby I'm a talker-speaker
and you are visitors,
hearing me speak.
Similarly, you're
here for a reason.
You're here to hear this.
People come to the theater.
They have to be
there for a reason.
If you're going to give a
conceit to a one-man piece,
where I'm going to
talk to you directly,
there has to be a reason
for you to be there.
There has to be a reason
for me to do the talking.
Otherwise, we are struggling
for the hour and a half
to figure out why
any of us are there.
So I begin with a concept.
You talk about "Chopin."
"Chopin"-- it wasn't
that it was a salon
and that it was
just there because.
The interesting
thing about Chopin
was that he had seen this
woman that he was ostensibly
in love with after a year of
her having thrown him out.
And they ran into
each other by accident
on a staircase in Paris.
As she was leaving a
friend, he was going up
to the friend, or
the other way around.
He was leaving the
friend for tea.
And she was going into the tea.
And they had broken up in a
terrible breakup a year before.
They see each other.
They barely have what
to say to one another.
And he then is heading
to teach a piano class.
So I wondered, what would
happen if I, as Chopin, had
run into this woman who'd
caused me such great pain a year
before and then had to
go teach those students?
I can assume that the students
would pay dearly for what
just happened just before.
And so, that's the setup.
So all the setups
for all these plays
come from a very conscious
conceit of where we are,
why I'm talking, and
why you are listening.
In the case of "Beethoven,"
the reason it's in
a cemetery is because the story
actually took place there.
It's true.
It's not a false conceit.
They actually disinterred
Beethoven's bones in 1863,
because someone on the Music
Society Committee in Vienna
had this idea that they needed
to put his remains in a metal
coffin and to spare
them from further decay.
It was everybody's fascination
in the 1860s with bones
and phrenology and
trying to understand
where people come from.
And they would feel
the scalps of people
and so on and so forth.
So this was a very
interesting thing.
I found that fascinating.
That's where it takes place.
And the people who
are gathered there
are the people who actually
gathered at this disinterment.
All of a sudden,
the bones come out.
And the person who was
presiding over the disinterment
is saying, we need to keep
these bones up above the earth,
because the future
of medicine will
be able to determine
what exactly happened
to Beethoven, why he went deaf.
And he wanted to know this.
Let's keep the bones above.
And the committee
makes the argument, no.
We need to keep
them in the earth.
We need to put them back,
according to tradition.
And of course, the doctor,
this Gerhard Von Breuning,
the narrator in this story,
steals two of the bones
before anybody
knows and can tell.
And those bones,
interestingly enough,
seem to have been at
the Beethoven Center
here at SJSU for many years,
until DNA testing demonstrated
for us they were a fraud.
Now, the interesting
thing about that--
when I was asked to do the
show, I said, this is perfect!
The bones are just
down the street.
Booked the show.
Signed the contract.
Discovered the
bones were a fraud.
So this made for
interesting progress
into telling the story.
But that's the reason
it's set in a cemetery.
The other thing is,
if you'll notice,
using light and the
cemetery stones,
the cemetery often disappears
to go into other worlds.
And that we do with light.
So my whole concept has been
go into the imagination when
you're going into these pieces.
As opposed to,
let's be in a salon.
And that's where we are.
As opposed to,
let's be in a room.
And that's where we are.
It's the ability to go to
as many places as possible
with magic at the same time.
Another question.
Gentleman over there.
And then, maybe we'll have
a little music that relates
to the question perhaps.
AUDIENCE: So a little
bit different, I think.
But you mentioned that
combining music and theater
has been a difficult craft.
And a lot of people
dissuaded you from that.
So I was wondering
if you could tell us
about any of your failures.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "FIFTH
 SYMPHONY"]
HERSHEY FELDER:
Any of my failures?
Well, last night, I missed two
bars in "The Fifth Symphony."
It was horrific.
And I'm banging away
and bashing away.
And let me see--
where is it?
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN,
"FIFTH SYMPHONY"]
And all of a
sudden, I said, why?
What happened?
What was going on was I was
thinking of the next line.
Now, most of the audience,
if they didn't really
know the piece
intimately, they wouldn't
know that two bars a
little bit went sideways.
But I was thinking
of the next line
that was going to come
after I finished playing.
And I put it in my head.
And I'm doing this big passage.
And I thought, oh my god,
where am I, all of a sudden.
The concentration is so
specific and so razor sharp
that even one move
in a wrong way,
one physical move, one
wrong word, one anything,
sends me into the universe.
And then panic strikes.
And if you're
experienced enough,
you know how to bring yourself
back and to make that work
and to figure your way out.
But concentration
is to be so focused
every second of
your being present
that even one hair of a--
so when failures--
most of the audience
wouldn't consider it a failure.
I get depressed
beyond all belief.
I come home.
I devour what's
ever in the fridge.
And then, I go out and I
find a Cheesecake Factory.
And I mow through
that glass thing.
And I mean, it's a
little bit like that.
It's just because
you miss a passage.
Most of the audience
doesn't know.
You miss a line.
You want to get a beat on it.
Or yesterday, it was
very interesting.
Unfortunately, 7:30 shows
Tuesdays and Wednesdays--
they start a little bit early.
So the traffic coming here
for there for Mountain View
is horrific, especially
with all the birds nesting.
People can't get
around, you know.
So people were late.
So as I'm beginning, flashlights
are going off, telephones.
People are trying
to find things.
And I'm talking directly to you.
And I'm watching this go on.
Fighting that kind
of concentration,
fighting that kind of activity
around you, is torture.
And so, the other night-- here
was something interesting.
Here, we'll do a
piece for you, OK?
So the narrator tells
us about this piece.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "THE
 MOONLIGHT SONATA"]
Most of you recognize it as "The
Moonlight Sonata" of course.
How many here play, by the way?
Oh, it's good bunch.
OK.
So I begin this piece.
And I'm talking through it.
I'm going to show you
exactly what I do.
And I ask any of you
to come and try--
I'd even try and do
it as an example,
if you play
something like this--
and try actually doing lines
above in the correct rhythm.
It's sheer torture!
So it goes like this.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "THE
 MOONLIGHT SONATA"]
And before I continue,
it's also in voices.
In this little thing, I have
three different characters.
It goes like this,
Gerhard, the doctor who's
telling the story; Beethoven;
and the dedicatee of the piece.
Now, listen.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "THE
 MOONLIGHT SONATA"]
(ACCENTED) "The Sonata in
C-sharp Minor," as beloved
in his time as it is today.
There is rhythmic stability,
but subtle changes of harmony.
And that indicates
contemplation.
And then, Beethoven speaks.
Such beauty herein.
But it has nothing to do
with moonlight, moon shine--
absolute nonsense.
That was a title
given to it by one
of Beethoven's
sycophants, Rellstab,
who fancied himself a poet.
One can see the moonlight
in the undulating waves.
Complete nonsense.
For Beethoven, this was "Sonata
Quasi una Fantasia," "Sonata
in the Form of a Dream."
And the more and more popular it
became, the more he complained.
(GRUFF GERMAN ACCENT)
"C-sharp Minor!"
"C-sharp Minor!"
Why does everyone talk about
that stupid "C-sharp Minor?"
I have composed so
many better things.
(ACCENT) As to the
dedicatee of the piece,
Countess Guilietta
Guicciardi, when
she was asked about the
depth of her relationship,
due to the dedication,
all she said was,
(WHINING TRILLING ACCENT) what?
That penniless bedraggled fellow
who once gave me piano lessons?
Why should I even care?
(ACCENTED) That was the
thing about Beethoven.
His heart was so full of
love that, sometimes, he
created love where it
simply did not exist.
And so on and so forth.
Now, I am doing that.
So the voices are there.
And I can tell you,
already in this--
(GRUFF GERMAN ACCENT)
stupid "C-sharp Minor!"--
I shortchanged one beat.
Because I'm talking.
And I'm trying to talk
to you and impress you
at the same time.
So the amount that's going on
in there-- the voices going,
three different
characters are going,
words are going, and playing the
Beethoven is quite complicated.
It's not just--
[HEAVY PIANO PLAYING]
It's--
[GENTLE PIANO PLAYING]
--the evenness, the
complete evenness,
and the color, and
then the voices.
So all that is going on,
while I'm busy yacking at you.
And worse, I'm looking at you.
[LAUGHTER]
Well, this is good
story, perfect for here.
So there I am at
the Geffen Theater.
Let me see.
What show what this was?
I think this was
"Gershwin," all right?
So at some point, I
sing with the audience--
[MUSIC - GEORGE GERSHWIN,
 "EMBRACEABLE YOU"]
[SINGING]
And then there's a question
period after the show,
because people are
interested, like this.
You know, that famous talk-back.
So one guy is sitting
about halfway back.
And he says, I just have to tell
you, I work at Skywalker Ranch.
He says, I work for Lucasfilm.
And he says, I've been
watching your shows.
And I want to know
how you do it.
I said, well, I practice a lot.
He says, no.
I want to know
what the trick is.
And I said, practice, really.
And he says, no, no.
I want to know the trick.
Because you have
completely fooled me.
And he says, I do
this for a living.
CGI is my thing.
I have worked on
the biggest films.
I have directed--
how do you do it?
And I said, how do
I do what exactly?
He says, how do you match
your fingers exactly
to the recording?
[LAUGHTER]
And I looked at him.
And I said, no, really.
Ask that a-- he
says, how are you--
he says, your fingers look-- we
have tried to do this in film
with getting this.
And we can't seem
to accomplish it.
How do-- I said,
maybe hire a pianist.
It will work.
He says, no.
But how do you do it?
I said, you've got
to be kidding, right?
And he somehow couldn't
assess that the person who
was talking to him and
singing to him, while playing
in character, somehow
was that same person.
So people have
asked how you do it.
This is very interesting.
Many of you know of Bach--
[MUSIC - J.S. BACH]
Next voice and so
on and so forth.
So you have voices going
on in there, right?
The way I've structured
how to do this is this.
First, you must
learn the piano part.
You must know the treble.
You must know the bass.
You must know everything
inside the piano part.
Then, you learn your text.
Then, you take the text, and
it needs to be placed exactly
as another voice.
Just like Bach, you
have all these voices
going in counterpoint.
So the voice that
I'm speaking actually
becomes another
voice in the score.
And it's placed exactly
at the right place.
Then I have to give you
complete natural inflection.
So that, even though now I'm
acting to you as an actor
or I'm talking to you, the
moment I go to the instrument,
I have to somehow give the
illusion that the actor is
still talking or the
character is still
talking when, in effect, I have
turned a completely different
system on.
And that system
is, the mechanism
needs to work
automatically here,
just as I did with that
Beethoven, with the sonata.
And there's even worse ones.
In the "Sonata
Pathetique"-- here.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "SONATA
 PATHETIQUE"]
(ACCENTED) C-minor--
notes packed together.
A sound never before heard--
moment.
A funereal-like rhythm.
(NORMAL SPEECH) It's
exactly in rhythm,
the sense that something
is terribly wrong.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "SONATA
 PATHETIQUE"]
(ACCENTED) The
onset was insidious.
It began with a
terrible pounding.
(ROUGH PLAYING)
Then, there was a
muffling of sound,
an incessant ringing
and buzzing in the ears.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "SONATA
 PATHETIQUE"]
Something very
terrible was beginning
to happen to his hearing.
And the only thing he could
do was cry out in pain.
(NORMAL SPEECH) And so,
everything is structured.
Now, what is happening is,
I'm talking directly to you.
I looked at the keys only
when I absolutely needed to.
But I'm talking to you
while I'm doing this.
So the sound is going on.
This story is relating
to the color of sound.
In my eye, as I
am looking at you,
I am seeing the score of
Beethoven's page and the words
right exactly where
they need to be.
But the craft I have developed
to such a degree, whereby
I am giving you the illusion
that that person is actually
talking off the fly right then
and there about those notes.
It has taken me 25 years
to figure out how to do it.
And everybody who comes
says, oh, I play the piano.
And I talk to the audience.
I'm going to do this.
It's easy.
It's fun.
I said, yeah, give it a shot.
Haha.
Let's see.
[LAUGHTER]
Because it looks so simple.
But again, in terms of
technology and understanding,
it's finding the simplicity
in all this complexity
and tearing away how
complex all of this is
and making it direct, keeping
the illusion exactly as it is.
And I still keep
fighting with that
to try and make that even
better and better and better.
But people talk about
inventing the form.
So if I did, that's great.
I hope people follow
along and do it
and tell these kind of stories.
Because they're important.
And audiences want to hear them.
And if I've learned anything
over all these years,
it's that what engages
people above all--
and I know you know this too--
it's not the actual
technology, it's
the story as it relates
to the technology,
as it relates to the human.
It's the story.
It's the human story.
And that's what makes
the difference, not
the actual numbers and how they
jive to make something happen.
Because ultimately,
what interconnects
us are our stories.
And if we don't have that,
then we're simply not human.
So that's the interesting thing.
And what I find interesting is
everybody said, oh, now we're
going to have little screens.
And people will be plugged in.
And the whole world
will be in the screen.
The interesting thing is
what technology is developing
is only our
enhancement of things.
But people are running
back to the theater,
because they need that
simple human interaction
after a day of
technology, where we don't
have that human interaction.
And the other thing
that I've been talking
about a lot as a
musician-- and I
don't know how you in this room
feel about it or how you work.
But I've gone to a lot of
really wonderful great places
where they develop a lot
of CGI stuff, I would say.
That's sort of my
involvement in Hollywood,
is going to those
kinds of things,
so taking what you develop
and then going to do that.
A lot of people are plugged in.
And they are listening
to the loudest things.
And you walk through the rooms.
And it's blaring.
And I'm thinking,
the damage that
must be doing to the hearing.
I don't know if
you recognize this.
But going now to a
movie or something,
don't you think that it's so
much louder than it used to be?
And what else
happens is we are now
connecting emotional
reaction to decibel level.
But it's not.
Emotional reaction is to
thinking and storytelling.
It's not amount of sound.
And so I have
largely stayed away
from plugging myself
in, going to loud clubs,
and so on and so forth.
Because here's with
lands up happening.
People don't listen
to each other anymore.
And that's how wars
begin and get worse,
because you don't hear
what somebody is saying.
And my biggest fear is that
talking in a room like this,
people will not hear unless
they're being shouted at.
And the emotional expression
is about being shouted.
And what I've learned is, get
1,000, 10,000, 12,000, 100,000
people in a room.
Talk to them easily and quietly.
They will hear you.
Scream at them, they'll
miss 90% of what you say.
And it's a very
interesting thing.
So the notion of young
people being plugged in
from very early
on, their hearing
is going to start to go.
And this very much
so frightens me,
in terms of the
state of the world.
It's very simple.
But hearing is something
we need to maintain
as much as possible.
Beethoven is a prime example.
And just a couple
last questions--
AUDIENCE: Yeah, two questions.
First of all, I should say,
I saw your show at the Center
for Performing Arts
on Sunday evening
and thought it was
just really terrific--
HERSHEY FELDER: Thank you.
AUDIENCE: --very entertaining.
And I learned a lot
about Beethoven,
as a person, and his
relationship with his two
younger brothers and his nephew
and how that kind of interacted
with his music.
As an innovator though,
innovators often
get a lot of pushback.
They aren't always very well
appreciated and received.
And Beethoven, I guess,
didn't really perform himself.
He would have relied on
musicians and producers, sort
of the music industry, to
carry his music out there.
HERSHEY FELDER: Mm-hm.
AUDIENCE: I'm
wondering what kind
of relationship and
reception he had at the time
that he was alive.
He's a superstar now.
But was he a superstar while he
was alive and doing his music?
HERSHEY FELDER: Was Beethoven
a superstar when he was alive
and he was doing his music?
To a degree, when he
was younger, absolutely.
And as he got deafer,
more certainly.
And certainly, with
"The Ninth Symphony,"
people loved him again.
He was the God of Music.
There was no question.
He was after Mozart.
And he was that.
But as an individual, he
was sort of monstrous.
And people said, at the
end of Beethoven's life,
that he had totally
lost his mind.
He was living in total squalor.
There are stories about
people going to visit him.
And I told one in this show
about how he had molding food
all over the floor.
His place was filthy.
He didn't take care of anything.
Rossini went to see him and said
there were leaks in the house.
It was living in total squalor--
the great Beethoven.
And yet, at the
same time, he was
recognized as being the
greatest musician of his time.
But people had sort
of discarded him,
as if he was just
a crazy old madman.
He had lost all
sense of normalcy.
He's deaf.
He's nuts.
And it's interesting that the
last bit of his life, people
complained about his music.
They said, it's
impossible to play.
Certainly, as I talked
about "The Grosse Fuge,"
and by that point,
the last years,
people said that there is no
interest in any of his music.
It's just the rantings
of a crazy man.
Today we look at it as being the
greatest advancement probably
in the history of Western music.
You know?
And that's another thing.
He faced that.
And he did say this,
when the little boy says,
nobody understood my piece,
he actually responded.
Oh, don't look so sad, my boy.
One day, they will
understand it.
They are just too stupid
to at this point--
something like that.
But that goes for anybody who's
going to push the envelope,
doesn't it?
And every time I
get a lousy review--
they're happening less and
less, which is scaring me.
And here's why.
When you get a good
review, you think,
people are getting it now.
They're not going to
get it in 100 years.
They're going to
think it's trash.
So my view is, the
worse the review is now,
the better off you're
going to be in 100 years.
[LAUGHTER]
So that's when you hold
up all your lousy reviews.
And everybody says,
this is sa-da-da-da-da.
And you say, well, no.
I know.
And maybe, in 100 years,
it will be worth something.
But I think, anybody
who has something new
and something different
to say will eventually
encounter that to some degree.
His was a different problem.
He was deaf.
And so he had to live with that.
And before I do just
this last little piece--
and I do want to thank Steinway
for sending us this piano.
Because otherwise, there
would be no music here.
Although, why is there no
piano permanently here?
Yes, there needs to be one.
That's another thing.
Having a piano somewhere
is very important.
My wife used to say, every
time I go into a house
without a piano, I
get very nervous.
I wonder about the people.
[LAUGHTER]
And so, it's like
meeting people with dogs.
People with dogs are OK.
People without dogs, you
have to ask a question.
So Steinway has been
wonderful in supporting me
for all these years,
by sending pianos
wherever they are needed.
And it's really a marvelous,
marvelous organization.
And it's location all
around the world--
they take care of pianists.
And they take care of us.
And hence, we can
bring you music.
So thank you the
folks at Steinway.
Before this last
piece, Beethoven--
I think of what he said
when he was 31-years-old.
It was a letter he
wrote to his brothers.
He was 31.
And it's 25 years
before he died.
And there's still an argument
as to whether he sent the letter
and he got it back or he
never sent the letter at all.
But it was in his desk
at the end of his life.
And it went like this.
And the first time I read
it, it broke my heart.
Think of this-- 31-years-old.
And I'll do it in his character.
(GERMAN ACCENT) Oh,
you men who declare
me to be malevolent,
stubborn, and misanthropic,
how gravely you wrong me.
For you do not know the secret
cause behind the appearance.
Ever since childhood
onward, my art and my mind
have tended towards
a gentle benevolence.
But for the past six years,
since my 26th birthday,
I have been suffering from
an incurable affliction, only
aggravated by stupid physicians.
Year after year, I am deceived
of the hope of an improvement.
And I am now forced
to contemplate
the prospect of an illness
that shall never be cured.
Well then, how can
I possibly admit
to being defective in
the very sense which
had been more highly developed
in me than in other men?
A sense which I had
at once possessed
in its most perfect form?
So please, forgive me if
I appear to be difficult.
But what am I to do?
Am I to venture out to
a social gathering--
hm?-- only to say, speak up!
I cannot hear you!
I am deaf!
And because of this,
I have seriously
considered taking my own life.
But each time I decide,
in the end, my need
for my art returns.
And now, this is the only
thing that shall keep me alive.
Death shall now
come as he pleases.
For no longer
shall I invite him.
And when he does come,
bravely, I shall come out.
And I shall accept my fate.
And when this day happens,
I ask of you only one thing.
Please, do not forget me.
Because often, in my
lifetime, I think of you.
And I wonder how I
can make you happy.
Please, just be so.
[MUSIC - BEETHOVEN, "SONATA
 PATHETIQUE"]
Thank you for a
wonderful morning.
[APPLAUSE]
SPEAKER 1: Hershey Felder.
HERSHEY FELDER: Thank you.
