
- Image by Photo Gallery via Flickr
Practice is a word usually lamented. We say it with whimpers, offering excuses and cringes; always trying to find ways to escape it, always trying to shove it to another time. But such times, if we had our way, would never exist and the notion of studying the same skills again and again would disappear entirely. We want to express ourselves, not focus our abilities into repetition. Such a notion is too stifling, too absurd. There is no need to practice. There is only the wish to create.
But creation becomes impossible when we try to play an instrument and fumble through every note – executing only the most painful of sounds, the most pitiful of songs. It seems we were mistaken in our own brilliance.
And from this mistake comes the need for the Etude.
Despite the hatred it may encounter, the Etude is a necessity that cannot be denied. Simply defined, it is a training tool that offers demanding pieces; each that must be played with perfection. It cannot be accomplished by lazy interests. It must instead be learned countless times, until the techniques it requires are mastered.
Began in the 19th century, the Etude was conceived as a way to explain the difficulties of the piano to students. It was a time when classical music was being redefined, offered more structured sensibilities. The religious formations of the past were being replaced to orchestra notes and rigorous virtuosity. Compositions were being written for pleasure, rather than sermons. And the public wished to follow, wanting to sample the skills of geniuses.
So the Etude (which means “to study”) was formed. These pieces taught the foundations of the piano, with their difficulty increasing with every page. They were meant to inspire diligence and could not be tamed without it.
This remains true today. Practicing is vital to classical music. And the Etude reminds all of the techniques that must be learned and the hours that must be given.











