“The song of the piano,” wrote the Catalan poet Eugenio d’Ors, “is a discourse. The song of the cello is an elegy. The song of the guitar . . . is a song.”
Those well-known lines, which please guitarists but tend to annoy pianists and cellists, suggest that the song of the guitar is as natural as that of one’s favorite bird. The Carolina Wren, perhaps, or the Hermit Thrush. That may well be true, but the production of the guitar’s seemingly natural song requires the mastery of two basic right-hand strokes, known to classical guitarists as apoyando and tirando. These two strokes produce two, very different timbres. And they also exemplify two different ways of paying attention.
In English, apoyando is known as the “rest-stroke.” The technique takes its name from the fact that when the player’s fingertip has executed the stroke, it comes to rest on the adjacent string. But as my friend and fellow guitarist Moises Guevara explained to me, in Spanish the infinitive apoyar (“to rest”), from which apoyando is derived, also means “to press.” That meaning accords with the stroke itself, in which the player presses the string downward in the direction of the soundboard. This vertical action causes the soundboard to resonate, producing a deep, round tone.
In contrast to apoyando, the tirando stroke produces a thinner, brighter sound, in which the overtones are as prominent as the fundamental tone. In Spanish, tirando means “pulling,” but in relation to the guitar the term is conventionally translated as “free-stroke.” Executing the free-stroke, the player’s fingernail pulls the string in a horizontal direction, passing freely above the adjacent strings. As might be expected, guitarists routinely use the free-stroke for arpeggiated chords, because this stroke allows notes previously played to continue to sound. Correspondingly, the rest-stroke is often used when playing scales and runs. Not only does the stroke produce a strong, clean run. When the scale is ascending, the rest-stroke also silences previous notes and prevents unwelcome dissonance.
Rest-stroke and free-stroke are two, proven means of producing sonorous tones. At the same time, these strokes represent two contrasting ways of bringing attention to bear upon its object. Beyond the context of guitar-playing, these ways of attending may be applied to other activities, including Zen meditation, where paying attention is, as it were, the name of the game. In particular, they may be applied to the practices of conscious breathing and “deep listening.”
In the practice of Zen, conscious breathing is both a beginner’s first assignment and a seasoned practitioner’s abiding task. There are, however, many ways to attend to the breath. One traditional way is to bring concentrated attention to the out-breath while inwardly counting “one,” “two,” “three,” and so on. At the end of each out-breath, we rest in the interval before the next inhalation. Roughly analogous to the rest-stroke, this practice calms the body and concentrates the mind. It is well suited to the beginning of a sitting, especially if one’s mind is restless.
As an alternative, however, we can follow the entire cycle of inhalation and exhalation, noting the point where the one turns into the other. Lightly but precisely, we can “tag” that point with a name or number (“out,” “one”), while allowing the breath to flow out freely. Analogous to the free-stroke in guitar-playing, this practice sorts well with the later stages of a sitting, when mind and body are already settled, and the intention is not so much to regulate the breath as to become aware of whatever is naturally unfolding, within and without.
The methods of rest- and free-stroke may also be applied to the meditative practice of “deep listening,” which is to say, of listening with full attention and a non-judgmental attitude. Engaged in a one-to-one conversation, we can choose to “press” our interlocutor, asking question after question, as we probe the issue at hand. Alternatively, we can simply pose a question or make a suggestion, giving close but relaxed attention to the other person’s response. These two ways of listening, analogous respectively to apoyando and tirando, can be used with discretion and in accordance with the situation. If the first seeks to get to the heart of the matter, the second permits the truth to emerge of its own accord.
When I was first learning to play the guitar, some forty years ago, the rest-stroke was considered primary. The free-stroke was reserved mainly for arpeggios. Nowadays, the free-stroke is considered primary, the rest-stroke being used mainly for accenting a note or passage or creating a dominant melody line. For my own part, however, I’ve come to use the two strokes circumstantially and in equal measure. And insofar as I can, I do the equivalent when sitting in zazen, or engaging in conversation, or going about my daily round. For in everyday life, as in playing the guitar, there are points when it is best to press, or to rest, or, in the words of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, to let things go as they go.
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* Eugenio d’ Ors, “La Cancion de la Guitarra.” (La cancion del piano es un discurso. / La cancion del cello es una elegia. / La cancion de la guitarra–es una cancion). Photo by Robin Caster Howard.
The rest stroke is so overrated.
Some of the best players in the world today, play one freestroke with i, m, a!
That includes Beijing Guitar Duo!