Edoardo Albino Giachino discusses the intricacies of playing cymbals in an orchestra, emphasizing their emotional significance and technical challenges. He reflects on the importance of selecting high-quality instruments and experimenting with different cymbal pairings to achieve unique sounds. Giachino shares his personal journey of continuous learning and the physical demands of playing cymbals, highlighting the responsibility of delivering powerful musical moments. He advocates for a deep commitment to the art of music, stressing that creating impactful performances requires dedication and a willingness to explore new techniques.

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A pair of cymbals. It seems simple. It’s just two bronze plates, with which you can’t make sounds too fast, nor can you create very different tones. So why does playing this instrument in the orchestra excite us so much? Why is it so essential? Why is an audition often decided by the quality of the candidate’s cymbal sound? Why is it so difficult to play softly and rhythmically? Why do I enjoy playing this instrument so much, and why have I invested so much time in it, still studying and experimenting with many things?

My heart beats fast when the tension in the music builds towards my cymbal crash, which explodes at the peak of the phrase. It’s not me; I’m just a part of this unique, powerful, orderly, and exciting thing that is the orchestra, and at that moment, I’m captured by what we are all creating together. I only do one single, very powerful hit. But I have an enormous responsibility; everyone is watching me and expecting this earthquake, and I feel like a god. Is it a trivial part? Maybe, but it’s fundamental, essential for delivering an emotion. Because our job as musicians is to give emotions to others and to ourselves. To do this, it has to be perfect — the movement, the attack, the body of the sound, the timbre. On this, I have to work hard, deeply, never being too satisfied, and never feeling like I’ve arrived.

Studying the cymbals is strange; it has to be done in small doses because it requires great physical strength and causes wear on the skin of the hands that rubs against the leather straps. I can study for a few minutes, a few times a day. Therefore, concentration and continuous commitment become essential during the short time I have before my fingers start to hurt, my arms begin to tremble, my back suggests that I stop, and my abs are all marked by the cuts of fast stops.

It’s such a physical instrument; I love that sound, as if the soul poured its vibrations through the bronze, the blood boils, the whole body clashes against these reverberations.

Art is an extremely serious thing, and music is a very serious thing. It doesn’t depend on the difficulty it requires, but creating Art and creating Music with a capital “M” means taking nothing for granted, going deep, and believing in it.

The grip? Many think that control of the grip is given exclusively by the index, thumb, and middle fingers, but instead, I use the pinky and ring fingers a lot; they allow me to have a secure grip and a lot of strength. The movement? The speed? The pressure? How long should the cymbals stay together and vibrate together? Are there rules? Does it depend on the type of cymbal? Or on the type of hit? How do I manage to play so many fast and strong hits if I don’t have the physical structure and training of Michael Rosen? How do I always have a satisfying hit? I want to talk to you about this in Indianapolis, but I don’t want to teach you anything; I just want to talk to you about what I do, what I find useful, what I’ve discovered, how certain goals I thought I had reached later turned out to be surpassed, how I continually feel like a child discovering a sound or a way of playing that I didn’t know.

How important is the quality of the instrument? We often underestimate this aspect. We play with violinists who play a Stradivarius, and often we settle for the cymbals we find in the orchestra. I found in the Zildjian company an ideal partner in the search for the sound I need — what the music I am playing requires, what my group of musicians demands. I have the opportunity to choose the cymbals I like, to create new ones, to modify some, and above all, to pair them in unexpected ways. Do we settle for playing cymbals that factory workers pair for us? Why? Habit? Laziness? I don’t have my cymbals paired; I have many individual cymbals, and I pair them differently to obtain a new crash, a different sound, a special timbre.

Do you know “Fountains of Rome” by Respighi? The penultimate piece, “The Trevi Fountain at Noon,” has four cymbal crashes, one fff, one f, one p, and one pp. Here, I love using a heavy 20-inch cymbal in my left hand that weighs about 2,700g, and in my right hand, I change four different cymbals. So I have the same basic timbre, but very different attacks, sounds, and dynamics to give a special sense of diminuendo and to try to make everything as exciting as possible.

What will I talk about in my clinic at PASIC 2024? About many things. I won’t be able to say everything I want; time will run out, and I will still want to explain for hours the art of this instrument, so ancient and so simple.