What if a piece of music didn't end at the last note?

Ana Vončina Author

What happens when a piece of music doesn't end at the last note?

When we learn a piece of music, we usually work towards playing it as well as we can. We learn the notes, shape the phrases, and try to bring the piece to life with our own interpretation. And when we reach the last note, we try again, or we find a new piece, a new challenge. But sometimes, for me, reaching the last note is where another kind of musical journey begins.

From a familiar piece to something new

I once recorded myself playing “Ivan Sings” by Aram Khachaturian. I began by playing the composition as written, and then continued improvising. I started by exploring the accompaniment of the second part, then kept returning to the original music. Sometimes I changed the melody, sometimes the harmony, and gradually I found my way into music of my own. Towards the end, the music became a new improvised composition, still carrying traces of the piece I had started with.

I hadn't planned this as a demonstration. I was simply enjoying the music and following the ideas that came to me.

If you listen, you might notice how ideas from the original composition keep returning in different forms. The music changes, but something of the original remains. 

What stays with us when the notes and harmonies begin to change? How much can we transform while still feeling connected to the music we began with? You don't need to analyse the recording. You can simply listen and notice what catches your attention.

You don't have to begin here

Of course, a six-minute improvisation isn't where I would ask a beginner to start.

This kind of musical exploration can begin on a much smaller scale. Even four measures can be enough. You might create a short motif, repeat it an octave higher, move a few notes, or change something small while keeping the original idea recognisable.

These are simple musical choices, but they open up possibilities. You begin to discover how repetition and variation work, how one idea can lead to another, and how you can shape music rather than simply reproduce it.

And just as importantly, you have time to listen to what you have played. To let an idea settle, to hear what happens when you change something, and to decide what you want to explore next.

For me, this is an essential part of making music. The aim isn't always to produce a finished piece. Sometimes the pleasure lies in discovering something, playing with it, changing it, and discovering something else.

Discover your own way of making music

This is the approach behind my three Creative Practice courses. Each offers a different musical world, with concrete ideas and gentle, step-by-step guidance to help you explore improvisation at your own pace. You don't need to imitate my playing or create something impressive. The aim is to develop a musical relationship of your own, so that the music you learn can become a starting point for something you discover yourself.

If you'd like to explore this approach, you can find the three courses here:

https://www.mypianocourse.com/courses

You don't have to know where the music will take you. You only need a place to begin.