The Curved Finger Debate

If Horowitz played with flatties, why should we strive for the perfectly-curved hand shape? Warwick Thompson investigates

IOne of a kind We are all taught from an early age to curve our fingers when touching the keyboard – but is it really the only way to go? And if so, how come Horowitz played with flatties? Warwick Thompson investigates

f I were to ask you which online topic was most likely to provoke the largest amounts of spittleflecked invective and steam-eared ranting on both sides of the debate, you’d probably suggest, say, the presidency of Donald Trump or the actions of Meghan Markle. Ha. Think again. If you really want to go down that particular cyber rabbit-hole, then try searching for ‘Should I play with curved or flat fingers?’ Then stand back as your computer explodes in a shower of capital letters, exclamation marks, and sarcasm.

What is it about this subject which causes such a commotion? I asked three superb performers and highlyregarded teachers – Chenyin Li, Ian Jones and Ronan O’Hora – what their thoughts were, to see if I could shed some light on the issue. Can flat fingers ever be useful? Why is curving the fingers such a dominant method? Could different schools of pianism and repertoire demand different approaches? Surprisingly – or perhaps, given the unresolved nature of the topic, not so surprisingly – all three had different opinions on the matter. But, as if to prove the peppery nature of the question, they all politely asked to make qualifications after I’d sent them draughts of what I’d written.

I’ll come to my interviewees’ responses in a moment, but first I’ll take a look at where this argument really began, and still has its epicentre: in the playing of Vladimir Horowitz. If you watch videos of his work, you’ll see that he performs with the flattest fingers imaginable. They shoot out straight from his metacarpophalangeal joint (the knuckle nearest the wrist) like arrows from a cross-bow. Think of a flat pancake, and then flatten it some more, and you’ll only begin to approach the flatness of his hand-shape. Any entry-level suburban teacher worth his or her salt would probably tap his wrist with a ruler, and tell him to stop being so naughty.

But the sound! The fire! The tone! Was it because of this apparent idiosyncrasy that he created such magic, or despite it? There lies the rub, and the source of all those online sentences written entirely in capital letters. One side says: if it worked for Horowitz, why shouldn’t it work for me? The other says: Horowitz was a law unto himself, and not a suitable role model for mere mortals.

One aspect of the story worth mentioning, however, is that Horowitz always travelled with his own Steinway which had been uniquely tailored to his own requirements. And the most interesting thing about his keyboard, as it concerns our topic, is that it has a much lighter action than usual. There’s a fascinating post on the absorbing blog The Piano Bear about Wayne Johnson, a professor of music, being given a chance to play this piano in America in the 90s. He noted both positives and negatives. ‘It was extremely light,’ wrote Johnson. ‘Fortissimos could be achieved with much less physical power than usual. But pianissimos were problematic, because it was very easy to over-play.’

This peculiar keyboard, combined with Horowitz’s

unusually long fingers and their peculiar physical make-up (they curved up at the tip), meant that he could adopt the flat approach and make it work for him.

Force of gravity

Ronan O’Hora, Head of Keyboard Studies at London’s Guildhall School of Music and Drama, makes a further point, and stresses the bigger picture about any pianist’s whole posture. ‘The way Horowitz played – and Brendel too – might look visually striking and unorthodox, but the differences are actually effectively superficial. They still obey the central rule: they connect to their bodies, and balance, and centres of gravity when they play. That’s why it works.’

Chenyin Li, who plays so seductively for the Pianist albums, and who is also a much sought-after teacher, also questions viewers’ perceptions of what seem like flat-fingered performances. ‘Pianists are often bending, even when stretching their hands wide,’ she tells me. ‘But a viewer might not necessarily see that curved tip at the top. Visually it might be misleading.’ It turns out that she has personal experience of this misperception. ‘Sometimes my husband checks the online comments on my videos for Pianist, and after one of them he told me that people were saying I was playing with flat fingers. And I thought: no I wasn’t! So I checked the image again, and it did indeed look like it. I always play with curved fingers, but when my two end fingers are engaged, and my middle fingers not, the non-playing fingers can look flat. But in fact they aren’t.’

So Li always plays curved? ‘Yes. It’s logical,’ she says (although she goes on to qualify this later, as you’ll see on the next page). ‘You have to transmit power to the keyboard, and the only way to do that is through the curved finger. Some of my students, even very talented ones, when they play cantabile, they react to the music in such a way that their fingers become soft and formless, and lose the curve. The result is a blurred sound. So I always advise curving: there’s no other way.’

Flat fingers forward

Ian Jones, Deputy Head of Keyboard at the Royal College of Music, takes a different stance. ‘We’re all different, with different bodies and different proportions, and have to find our own way of approaching the piano. No one size fits all,’ he says. ‘The most important thing is that we should be physically free. And being flat is a kind of ideal.’ An ideal? That seems radical, I suggest. ‘Not at all. When your fingers are flat, then there’s

‘You have to transmit power to the keyboard, and the only way to do that is through the curved finger’ Chenyin Li

‘No one size fits all… the most important thing is that we should be physically free.And being flat is a kind of ideal’ Ian Jones