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Hitting the right note Mail Tribune / Jim Craven Frank Sullivan discusses a recording by pianist Kristina Foltz at his studio in Ashland. Foltz was recording Mozart�s "Ballade No. 4 in F Minor." The newest high-tech equipment has given even small studios like Sullivan�s the tools to make high-quality recordings. By Bill Varble Kristina Foltz isn�t happy with the coda of Chopin�s Ballade No. 4 in F Minor. The section is the complex climax of an 11-minute piano performance Foltz is recording at Sullivan Recording in Ashland. "This is Chopin�s hardest one," Foltz says. "All the ballades are difficult, but this one ..." She rolls her eyes. If a whiff of glamour clings to the recording studio, Frank Sullivan says, forget it. Even in this digital age, the control room is as much perspiration as inspiration. But the tools are amazing. Working with Foltz on a CD, Sullivan uses software, a keyboard and a mouse to do editing once done on analog tape. The result will include only notes played today by the artist, but in a final structure that never existed as a whole entity in real time. Sullivan Recording is 1,500 square feet of recording technology in Ashland�s old railroad district. It offers editing, mastering, archiving, voice-over recording, multi-media sound design. Sullivan, the owner and engineer, and Greg Hayes, the studio manager, claim 50 years of music and sound production between them. Foltz lives in Ashland, where she teaches piano at Southern Oregon University and is married to the pianist Alexander Tutunov. An Illinois native, she started learning the piano at 6, studied in Texas and Spain, won several competitions and has performed around the United States and in Europe. She is under contract to record with members of the San Francisco Symphony. A recent session began with Foltz alone at Sullivan�s 6-foot Yamaha grand piano in a room with baffling to soak up any bouncing sound. "We try for a live ambiance without making it dead," Sullivan says. The piano is miked with tube condenser microphones to lend the sound analog-like warmth. "In a lot of ways analog sounds better," Sullivan says. "Digital tends to sound brittle." "There�s a slight distortion halo that digital doesn�t get," Hayes says. Dressed in black, her hair pulled off her face, Folz plunges into the demanding piece, her body hunching back and forth on the bench. Sullivan sits on the other side of double sliding-glass doors at a mixing console with a three computer system � multi-track recording, two-track recording and editing, CD replication. There�s always a digital tape going to back up the computer disk. Green bars dance on a computer monitor to Foltz�s interpretation of Chopin�s romantic passages, which pour from Yamaha NS10 speakers, industry standards with an uninspired, mid-range sound. "If it sounds good on these it�ll sound good on anything," Sullivan says. He�s surrounded by controls and lights and stacks of gizmos. Coils of cable snake along one wall. A rack of CDs lines the single window. Foltz finishes in a thunderous crescendo, hair falling across her face, and then there�s silence. "That was great, Kristina," Sullivan says. "Do you want a fire extinguisher?" Hayes says. But when Foltz joins Sullivan at the console, she�s not satisfied. "There�s one place I messed up," she says. It�s in the coda, which in Chopin�s ballades is often a fiery, sometimes almost unplayable section. Top 19th century pianists found they couldn�t play music that Chopin was writing. An exception was Franz Lizst, who was not only a composer but a piano virtuoso. Foltz goes back to the piano for more takes, then returns to the control room for more editing. "Wait for the rest," she says. "Right � there ." Digital sound editing is a cut-and-paste process not unlike graphics or even word processing. It�s a technical revolution that came to even small studios a few years ago with the Alesis Adat eight-track recorder. "That won�t work," Foltz says of a passage. Squiggles march across Sullivan�s monitor like a seismograph. Edits must be made not only in the microsecond but at the zero crossing � the point where the sound wave crosses the zero amplitude line, in which there�s zero volume. Chopin interpretation requires rubato, a flowing, flexible tempo. If the edit weren�t at the zero point, the CD would be marred by clicks or other snafus. "Is that what we want to get rid of?" Sullivan asks of a note. "Yeah," Foltz says. In a few strokes, the deed is done, then another note is edited in. A new section is melded to the piece. Played back, it�s all a seamless web of beauty. "Amazing," Foltz says. Then she�s off to a recital at the Rogue Valley Manor. Sullivan looks pleased. "I�m an old dog," he says. "I used to do this with a razor." Reach reporter Bill Varble at 776-4478 or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2000 Mail Tribune, Inc.