how the piano came to be [illustration: upright harpsichord (_from the metropolitan museum of art, new york city_)] how the piano came to be by ellye howell glover illustrated chicago browne & howell company 1913 copyright, 1913 by browne & howell company published, october, 1913 the·plimpton·press norwood·mass·u·s·a list of illustrations upright harpsichord _frontispiece_ clavicytherium or upright spinet _facing page_ 12 clavichord 12 spinet 16 queen elizabeth's virginal 16 double spinet or virginal made by ludovicus grovvelus 20 clavichord made by john christopher jesse 24 dulcimer 28 christofori piano 32 piano made by matthäus andreas stein 40 piano made by benjamin crehore 48 piano made by charles albrecht 50 piano, primitive german action 52 a stodart piano 56 how the piano came to be how the piano came to be from the dried sinews stretched across the shell of a dead tortoise to the concert-grand piano of the present day is a far flight. yet to this primitive source, it is said, may be traced the evolution of the stringed instrument which reached its culmination in the piano. the latter has been aptly called "the household orchestra," and in tracing its origin one must go far back into the annals of the past. if we accept the bible as history, and it is the greatest of all histories, the stringed instrument is of very ancient date. it is recorded that the ambassadors who came to the court of saul played upon their _nebels_, and that david, the sweet singer of israel, wooed the king from his sadness by singing to his harp. we must go back to the civilization of ancient egypt, more than five hundred years before that morning nearly two thousand years ago when, it is written, the angelic choir chanted above the historic manger the glorious message, "peace on earth, good will to men," and the morning stars sang together. in the olden times the greeks laid claim to everything which bespoke culture and progress. the pages of ancient history record no other one thing so persistently as "the glory that was greece." and so they tell of the time when- "music, heavenly maid, was young, and yet in ancient greece she sung!" it is now generally conceded, however, that it was not in greece but in ancient egypt that art, music, and the sciences in general were born. that the egyptians had stringed instruments is unquestionable. away back in the year 525 b.c. cambyses subdued the land. he overthrew the temples in the ruins of which have been found the records of musical instruments dating from the very earliest times. but the priests who guarded the temples were slain, and every vestige of what might have helped to determine the origin of the stringed instrument, out of which, later, the piano was evolved, as well as the names of those who wrought and endeavored to construct instruments which would give forth music, was forever lost. [illustration: clavicytherium or upright spinet] [illustration: clavichord] for lack of written authority, then, one must turn back to tradition for light upon the origin of the piano. tradition says that ham, or one of his sons, led the first colony into egypt. in fact there is a legend that noah himself once dwelt there and some historians have identified him with the great deity of the egyptians, osiris. to hermes, or mercury, the secretary of osiris, is ascribed the invention of the first stringed instrument. the story is that hermes was walking one day along the banks of the nile. it was just after one of the great inundations. the nile had overflowed its banks and the land had been submerged. but now the water had subsided, and as hermes walked along the shore, his foot struck accidentally against the shell of a dead tortoise. across the inside of the shell the dried sinews were tightly stretched. hermes picked it up and touched the sinews with his fingers. he was amazed to hear the sweet tones which the picking of the strings produced. he set to work to make a musical instrument, using the shell of a tortoise for the body and placing strings across it. in substantiation of this legend we find in examining the lyre of the ancient greeks that almost every one was ornamented with a tortoise. we find also in the records of the hindus, the chinese, the persians, and the hebrews that these people had stringed musical instruments at a very early date and that the most common among them was the lyre in its various modifications. the famous sepulcher of rameses iii is elaborately ornamented with harps. specimens of this instrument have been found also in excavations made in comparatively recent years. in 1823 sir j. g. wilkinson discovered in an old egyptian tomb a harp which, despite the fact that three thousand years had gone by since it had been put to sleep beside its royal master, was in an excellent state of preservation. the strings were of cat-gut and were in marvelously good condition. the custom which the egyptians had of portraying their daily life upon their city walls, their temples, and tombs has been of incalculable value to the antiquarians in search of authentic information. from the pictures which ornament these temples and tombs we have learned that the harp and the lyre were the favorite instruments of the egyptians, and these carvings alone furnish indisputable proof of their use by these people. but all the research which man, thus far, has been able to make has not revealed just who it was that first discovered music in a lifeless instrument. this fact will always be deeply veiled in mystery. all attempts to unravel the threads have failed. none knows yet just who they were who first "struck the chorded shell, and, wondering, on their faces fell to worship the celestial sounds. less than a god they thought there scarce could dwell within the hollow of that shell that spoke so sweetly and so well." just how many strings hermes had on his tortoise-shell instrument is a much disputed question. some say there were but three and that they represented the three seasons--spring, summer, and winter--into which it was the custom of the greeks to divide their year. some authorities claim that the strings numbered four. others say there were seven. no one knows. the greek harp was played by picking the strings with the fingers or with a plectrum. the latter was a small piece of bone or metal, held in the fingers, with which the strings were snapped. sometimes a short piece of wood was used to strike the strings. [illustration: spinet] [illustration: queen elizabeth's virginal] a step forward in the evolution of the stringed instrument was made during the middle ages when the psaltery became popular. it consisted of a box with strings across it, and records for us the first attempt at a sounding board. this was followed by the dulcimer, which closely resembled it but was somewhat larger. a plectrum was used to play them both. a very good idea of the psaltery and dulcimer may be obtained from the xylophone. this instrument has bars of wood or metal which are struck with a wooden mallet. the keyboard was invented in the eleventh century. it was applied first to an instrument called a clavier and later to the organ. the first stringed instrument to which this new device was applied was the clavicytherium, or keyed cithara. it had a box with a cover and strings of cat-gut, arranged in the form of a half triangle. it was made to sound by means of a quill plectrum attached in a rude way to the end of the keys. this was the progress the piano of today had made in the thirteenth century. next in order of development comes the monochord, clarichord, or clavichord, the latter being the name by which it is generally known. as it was the instrument most used during the six centuries which followed, it is worthy of close study. in shape it much resembled a small square piano without frame or legs. the strings were of brass, struck by a wedge made of the same metal which was called a tangent. it was capable of soft tones only, but they were very sweet and melancholy. the elder bach loved this instrument. he did not take kindly to the piano which was about to supplant his beloved clavichord. one regrets that he could not have lived to have seen it perfected. in playing the music written by bach we must remember that he wrote entirely for the clavichord. the instrument he used was, without doubt, the product of italy, as during this time the italians led all europe in the arts. at a later period the clavichord was copied by the germans and belgians. it was used by them for centuries on account of its simple construction and low price. mozart always carried one with him as part of his baggage when traveling. the virginal, spinet, and harpsichord followed the clavichord in rapid succession, considering that the last named instrument had been in favor for such a long time, with seemingly no attempt at improvement. all of these three instruments had strings of brass, with quill plectra attached to pieces of wood. these were called "jacks"--a name still used today in making up the action of the piano. [illustration: double spinet or virginal made by ludovicus grovvelus flanders, 1600] the virginal and spinet were almost identical with each other, but the harpsichord was larger and occasionally was built with two keyboards. there are several explanations as to why the virginal was so called. one is that it got its name from its association with hymns to the virgin. another is that it was thus called in honor of elizabeth, the virgin queen. we may accept whichever theory best suits us, but history records that both elizabeth and mary of scotland were proficient in its use and that it was the favorite instrument of henry viii. items for repairs and for instruction in playing the virginal appear frequently in the royal expense book, showing conclusively that his majesty was not unmindful of such accomplishments. four octaves was the range of these old instruments, from the second added line below in the bass to the second added line above in the treble. there was but one string to each note, and one can well understand why a writer of that period describes the tone as "a _scratch_ with a _sound_ at the end of it." queen elizabeth's virginal is still preserved at worcestershire. it is a most elaborate creation, having a cedar case ornately covered with crimson velvet and lined with yellow silk. its weight is only twenty-four pounds. gold plate covers the front. thirty of its fifty keys are of ebony with tips of gold. the semitone keys are inlaid with silver, ivory, and various woods, each key being composed of two hundred and fifty pieces. the royal arms are emblazoned upon the case. the queen's virginal instruction book is also carefully kept, one of the many silent records of the accomplishments of this gifted and brilliant woman. the instrument which belonged, once upon a time, to mary queen of scots was not quite so gorgeous. its case was of oak inlaid with cedar, but it was ornamented with gold and had rare paintings on the case. it was customary to employ the best artists to decorate these instruments, as this greatly enhanced their value. there is a story that salvatore rosa, on a wager, made his almost valueless harpsichord worth a thousand scudi by painting a landscape with figures upon the lid. in july of the year 1701 the london _post_ had an article relating to virginals which reads: "this week a most curious pair of virginals, reckoned to be the finest in england, was shipped off for the grand seigneur's seraglio." old pepys, in his diary, gives a description of the great fire in london which occurred in 1666, in which he says: "the river was full of lighters and boats, taking in goods, _good_ goods swimming in the water; and only i observed that hardly one lighter or boat but that there was a pair of virginals on it." the word "pair" as it is used then had no more meaning than when we now say "a pair of scissors." this extract shows that the instrument must have been almost as commonly used as the piano of our day. in shakespeare's time it was customary to have a virginal in a barber shop for the entertainment of customers, probably to beguile the weary moments while they waited for the barber to say "next." [illustration: clavichord made by john christopher jesse, germany, 1765] in shape the spinet resembled the harp placed horizontally in the framework. a very good example may be seen at the south kensington museum in london. it was made by rossi, a celebrated manufacturer. the metropolitan museum in new york has rare specimens of the harp which were given by the late mr. drexel, of philadelphia, who purchased them in europe. there are two theories as to the origin of the name "spinet." one is, that it was taken from spinetti, a venetian who invented the oblong form of the case. the other is that the strings were made to vibrate by the points of a quill, and that the word "spinet" came from thorn or point. in tone the spinet was usually a fifth higher than that of the harpsichord, which came into favor during the eighteenth century. the latter was almost exactly like our grand piano, only very much smaller. to italy has been accorded the honor of its origin, also, away back in the fifteenth century. it was not commonly used, however, until about 1702. a harpsichord on exhibition at the south kensington museum in london bears the date of 1521. a step towards the present-day construction of the piano is shown by the fact that there were always two wire strings to each note and sometimes three or four, and that it had a keyboard covering five octaves. it was like an organ in that it had register stops and sometimes a double keyboard. hans ruckers, of antwerp, was the most celebrated maker of the harpsichord in those days. one of his best specimens belongs to the drexel collection in new york. handel delighted in his ruckers harpsichord and gave it preference over all others, which is adequate proof of its superiority. it was his pleasure to play upon it long after his failing eyesight forbade the use of notes. he had to improvise entirely, but was so expert that the orchestra with whom he played was often diverted by his wonderful accompaniments. this partiality was resented by the soloists and one of them told handel that if he ever played him such a trick while he was singing, he would jump down on his harpsichord and smash it. this amused handel immensely and he exclaimed, "you vill jump, vill you? varey well, sare. be so kind und tell me ven you vill jump, und i vill advertise it in der bills." we are told that every key of handel's instrument was hollowed like the bowl of a spoon, so incessant was his practice. one very lovely harpsichord still in existence has its history veiled in mystery, but the supposition is that it once belonged to marie antoinette. [illustration: dulcimer] clementi had one of the last harpsichords made. the date upon the case was 1802. beethoven's famous "moonlight sonata" was written for either harpsichord or piano. it was published in 1802. hummel played on the harpsichord as late as 1805, but it had to give way, though most reluctantly, to the new invention called the pianoforte. just how slow the public was in accepting the innovation and improvement upon the instruments mentioned, the following quotation from a folio gotten out by thomas mace, who was one of the clerks of trinity college, at the university of cambridge, testifies. he was pleased to call his booklet "musick's monument," and it was printed in 1676 in london. he scorned the new invention but warmly upheld the lute and viol. he explained that the lute was once considered difficult to play because it had too few strings, only ten to fourteen, while at the time of his writing it had sixteen to twenty-six. he makes the statement that he never spent more than a shilling a quarter for strings. the care of a lute he describes quaintly: "and that you may know how to shelter your lute in the worst of ill weathers (which is moist) you shall do well, ever when you lay it by in the day time, to put it into a bed that is constantly used, between the rug and blanket, but never between the sheets, because, they may be moist. this is the most absolute and best place to keep it in always, by which doing, you will find many great conveniences. therefore, a bed will secure from all these inconveniences and keep your glew as hard as glass and all safe and sure; only to be excepted, that no person be so inconsiderate as to tumble down upon the bed whilst the lute is there, for i have known several good lutes spoiled with such a trick." again we are indebted to italy for the invention and name of the pianoforte. it is a strange fact that, entirely unknown to one another, three men were working out the same principle--namely, the hammer action--at the same time. marius in france, schroeter in germany, and bartolomeo christofori (often called christofali) in italy worked secretly and simultaneously, and for a long time it was undecided to whom the honor really belonged. a careful examination of all records, however, establishes beyond a doubt the priority of christofori's claim. the hammer action was what all previous instruments lacked, and it seems strange that it took nearly two thousand years for this principle to be discovered and applied. many times the inventors appeared to be almost upon it. they worked all around it, but the idea seemed illusive and they never grasped it. [illustration: christofori piano from the metropolitan museum of art, new york city] at this point it might be well to enumerate in order the instruments which preceded the piano, if only to fasten them clearly in memory: the lyre and harp of the ancients; the dulcimer, played by means of the plectra and to which, as the hand could use but one plectrum, there was a keyboard added to use all the fingers, thus moving the plectra faster; the clavichord, with tangents of brass to strike the strings; the virginal and the spinet, in reality the same; the harpsichord, with its crow quills to half rub, half strike the strings, still far away from the hammer action of the present-day piano. it seems almost unaccountable that the manufacturers who so greatly improved the mechanism of the harpsichord at this stage failed to discover the hammer action. but at last, after the quest of centuries, the quill, thorn, and ivory were discarded and a small hammer struck the string, giving a clear, precise, but delicate tone hitherto unheard. the "scratch with a sound at the end" was gone forever. the harpsichord had been changed into an instrument of percussion, and it only remained for man to perfect that primitive creation into the superb piano of today. although italy gave the invention to the world, it remained for northern europe and england to take up the idea and improve it. christofori solved three important problems: first, the construction of thicker strings to withstand the hammer action; second, a way to compensate for the weakness caused by the opening in the tuning-pin block; third, the mechanical control of the rebound of the hammer from the strings, so that the hammer should not block against the latter and prevent vibration. the first christofori instrument was brought out in 1709. marius did not come forth with his claim until 1716, and schroeter not until the next year. the name "pianoforte" is traced clearly to the year 1598 and is said to have been originated by an italian named paliarino. in some of his manuscripts he mentions an instrument called _piano e forte_. the english put in a claim for a monk living in rome who had made an instrument resembling christofori's in 1711 and had brought it to england, where it created a profound sensation. this may have been true, but england did little to develop even the harpsichord until long after continental makers had achieved marked success in the business. in 1760 german workmen to the number of twelve went to london. they were known as the twelve apostles, and it is their descendants who became identified with the successful development of the piano down to the present time. very few of the first christofori pianos have been preserved. one, in excellent repair, is in the metropolitan museum in new york. two are in florence, dated 1720 and 1726. they show, beyond a doubt, that he had anticipated the plan of escapement and hammer checking. like many other pioneer inventors, this man died in comparative poverty. schroeter, the german claimant, became a famous maker of instruments. he succeeded in improving the piano to a large extent. but his life was made miserable fighting the claims of other manufacturers who sprang up and immediately went into business. marius met the same fate, being driven to distraction by competitors, some of whom turned out instruments far superior to his. england did not accomplish much before the middle of the eighteenth century. up to 1760 all pianos were made in what is known as the "grand" form. then a german in the employ of the tschudi's, famous makers of harpsichords, invented the familiar "square" style. at the beginning of the nineteenth century, the most noted european makers were the steins, stodart, broadwood, pleyel, erard, and silberman. pleyel was distinguished not only for his fine instruments, but for the fact that he was the twenty-fourth child born to his mother after she married martin pleyel. she died soon after his birth, whereupon his father took unto himself another wife and had fourteen more children, making a family of thirty-eight, thirty-five of whom lived and prospered. pleyel was chapel master of strasburg cathedral. he was the author of some fine hymns and other compositions which we know and love today. he lived in paris, manufactured splendid pianos, and was, before his death, proprietor of one of the largest establishments in europe. to show against what prejudice the piano had to struggle as compared to the harpsichord (and even the clavichord), we quote from a musical critic in leipzig who said: "the clavichord stands highest of all instruments, and although on account of its nature it is excluded from the concert hall, it is the companion of the recluse. the latter says to himself: 'here i can produce the feelings of my heart, can shade fully, drive away care, and melt away a tone through all its swellings,'" this critic says further: "the piano is so deficient in its shadings and minor attractions, it is adapted only for concerts and chamber music." this dissertation closes as follows: "in order to judge a virtuoso, one must listen to him while at the clavichord, not while at the piano or harpsichord." to illustrate the novelty of the piano in the year 1767, we find on an old english play bill of the covent garden theater a certain miss brickler advertised to sing a favorite song from "judith," accompanied by mr. dibdin on "a new instrument" called the pianoforte. this was at the intermission after the first act of "the beggars" opera. after mozart became acquainted with the piano, he gave his preference to those made by stein, of augsburg. afterwards, however, he transferred his affection to those made by anton walter, of vienna. his "grand," which was but five octaves, with white sharps and black naturals, is now in the mozarteum at salzburg. [illustration: piano made by matthäus andreas stein vienna, early nineteenth century] silberman, the german maker, was finally successful in interesting king frederick of prussia in his new instrument to the extent of persuading him to purchase outright all he had finished. there were some fifteen of these, which were placed in the rooms at the palace. this demonstrates the king's love for music. he was a flute player of considerable ability. one of the court musicians was carl philip emanuel bach, son of the great master, and king frederick had expressed a desire to hear the elder bach play upon the new invention. for some time old sebastian was obstinate and tartly declined all invitations. his son at last cajoled him into acceding to the king's wishes. he arrived most unexpectedly and excited the king to such an extent that he rushed out exclaiming: "gentlemen, old bach has come." during the performance he stood behind the musician's chair muttering in an undertone: "only one bach, only one bach." the king requested the improvisation of a fugue in six parts, which the master did to the astonishment of all present. but for the new instrument bach had little use. he complimented silberman on his production, but he found fault with the unequal tones. he said the high notes were too weak, that it was too hard to play. of course this greatly displeased the maker. for a long time he was very angry. but his better judgment came to the rescue and at a later date he succeeded in producing an instrument to which the master gave his approval. bach, however, was never convinced that any instrument was equal to his beloved clavichord. it will be of interest to women to know that maria anna stein, daughter of johann andreas stein, the piano maker, was a most successful business woman, carrying on the manufacturing of instruments. this she continued after her marriage to herr streicher. she was a person of rare refinement and a warm friend of beethoven, whom she greatly admired. she was privileged to make his last years more comfortable than any he had previously experienced. good servants were provided to look after his bodily needs and she always had one of her best pianos at his disposal. in a letter to "nanette," as she was called, he wrote: "perhaps you do not know that though i have not always had one of your pianos, since 1809 i have invariably preferred them." as late as 1882 there was a grand piano at windsor castle which bore the name of nanette stein, maker. it belonged to queen victoria. clementi may be considered the first legitimate writer for the piano. all the great masters, including scarlatti, handel, bach, and haydn (in his first compositions), were written for the clavichord. so when listening to the classics they have left for us, we must remember the limitations of the instruments upon which they played and for which they wrote. probably no one has realized this fact more keenly than the late mr. morris steinert, of new haven, conn. he spent the best years of his life (to say nothing of his fortune) in collecting the rare and valuable instruments which he presented to yale college. mr. steinert not only searched for these treasures all over europe, but he had them restored and played upon them, thus giving to the world the long-forgotten sounds and showing, by the only method possible, just how the great masters played. during the world's fair the steinert collection was in the manufacturers' building, the center of attraction for music lovers. his experiences were most interesting in obtaining some of the rarest specimens. for instance, a harpsichord with the date 1710 on its case was found broken and dust-covered in an attic in vienna. it had two keyboards, tortoise-shell naturals and ivory sharps. it had eight stops, one imitating the lute and one the flute. the sounding board was elaborately painted with flowers and other decorative symbols, while the inside lid was ornate with strictly japanese art. the dearly loved "nanette stein" piano, beethoven's much prized possession, is in mr. steinert's collection. america is the home of many priceless pianos. in this same group we find an instrument once belonging to napoleon bonaparte. to be correct, it is a harpsichord, and it was given to a french sergeant when the fallen monarch was banished to st. helena. the frenchman came to america and gave the harpsichord to simon bates, of scituate harbor light, mass., from whose heirs mr. steinert purchased it. claviers, dulcimers, spinets, and harpsichords, belonging once upon a time to bach, haydn, and mozart, are in this famous collection. besides the instruments of bygone days, mr. steinert has been able to get original manuscripts, worth their weight in gold. it is a fascinating character study to examine the scores of the old masters and note the difference in style and method. for many years this man made arduous tours with his instruments, giving lectures and illustrating them with actual performance of the music on the instrument for which it was composed. his only compensation was that he felt he was furthering the true spirit of art and music in this the country of his adoption. in his personal reminiscences published some years ago he says: [illustration: piano made by benjamin crehore, boston cir. 1800] "how dealers in pianos of this day must envy the manufacturers of the good old times when they remember that then the would-be purchaser had to look up the maker and court his pleasure. he had to sign a written contract, the terms of which sound droll enough to us. the time limit for construction was from six to twelve months and the payments were, generally, so much cash, so many casks of wine, a certain amount of corn, wheat, and potatoes, while geese, chickens, and turkeys constituted some of the articles used in payment. even a few cords of wood would be acceptable in making up the balance. when the piano was completed, ready for delivery at the home of the impatient purchaser, a general festival took place. the maker was the hero of the hour. he was accompanied by his craftsmen, and apprentices if he had any, and they followed the gaily decorated wagon and horses which bore the precious burden to its new home. a band of music headed the procession and the maker was borne aloft on the shoulders of his assistants. musicians, organists, school masters, and other dignitaries marched in the rear. at the place of destination the procession was received with joyous shouts of welcome. the minister said a prayer and blessed the instrument and its maker. then the mayor or burgomaster delivered an address, dwelling at length upon the importance of the event to the whole community, stating that the coming of the new musical instrument would raise the standing of the place in the eyes of the surrounding countryside. speeches followed by the school master, doctor, druggist, and other officials. the mannechor of the village rendered songs, and amid the strains from the band the piano was moved into place. a banquet and dance closed the happy occasion." in those days the manufacturer had to make each article by hand that went into a piano, which is the reason it took so long to finish the instrument. [illustration: piano made by charles albrecht, philadelphia] if the early records are reliable, the history of the piano in this country begins at philadelphia. in 1775 john behrend, a german or swede, built an instrument in the quaker city, and up to 1855 it continued to be the center of trade in musical instruments. when we consider how much the piano has contributed to the happiness of mankind and to the promotion of art and culture, the honor conceded to the pennsylvania city is by no means a small one. the first spinets and virginals made on this side of the water were undoubtedly of philadelphia manufacture. this was in the year 1742. along with its musical progress it is said that the first hand or barrel organs were made there, and of the latter some one says: "they are the curse and plague of the modern high class individual." a scotchman, who settled in philadelphia near the end of 1785, was the maker of the hand-organ. to show that the town was progressive in all kinds of instruments, we find that the historical society of philadelphia has records of the first organ built there in 1737 by one mathew zimmerman. local historians claim it to be the first one built in america. john clark built one at salem, mass., in 1743, for the episcopal church at that place. this puts massachusetts well to the front in early musical history. zimmerman's will, probated the same year he finished the organ, bequeaths it to his nephew and expresses the hope that he would learn to play upon it, adding, "if not, it can be sold, owing to its being so much of a curiosity." [illustration: piano, primitive german action. eighteenth century] the story of the first piano to come into this country is truly romantic and historic. the famous continental frigate "boston," a privateer, sailed into port with a british merchant ship as a prize. the dauntless captain tucker was in command. the cargo was sold for the benefit of the national treasury, and among other articles was a pianoforte of london make. it was not until after the revolutionary period that the spinet and harpsichord were superseded in this country by the piano. a newspaper of 1791 tells us that there were some twenty-seven pianos among the wealthy boston families. all were of english make. in 1840 slow, easy-going ways crept into philadelphia and she lost the prestige she once enjoyed of being the center of musical culture as well as of art and literature. boston took the place and has held it ever since. many of the distinctive features of the american piano actually originated there, such as the applying of metal in construction, which idea was first shown to be practical by alpheus babcock and jonas chickering. then timothy gilbert, another boston man, conceived the upright action which is in such general use today. there is no doubt but that chickering was the first man who dared deviate from a prescribed method in case building. old newspapers contain much of interest concerning these first days in the musical history of our country. in the boston _gazette_, published in 1770, we are told that an excellent spinet had just been completed which for goodness of workmanship and harmony of sound was esteemed by the best judges to be superior to those imported. so much for american skill and enterprise. it might be well to mention that massachusetts is credited with making the first violins in this country. in 1789, also, there were two teachers of harp and piano in boston, one of whom could act as tuner and repairer if occasion demanded. we find that boston early supported a musical magazine. in 1797 peter van hazen left new york for the "hub" and there issued the first copy of his publication devoted to topics on music. he also imported sheet music direct from london. it was about 1800 when benjamin crehore, of milton, mass., built the first piano ever made in this country, and he did it in boston. he was a skilled workman who knew how to make violins, 'cellos, guitars, drums, and flutes. ten or twelve pianos were all he could make in one year and, to the shame of america be it recorded, he had to put the stamp of _london_ or _paris_ upon them before he could make a sale, showing that our forefathers considered the foreign made article superior to those of home manufacture. all these things are changed, however; the american instrument now commands the highest price and is shipped to every part of the world. [illustration: a stodart piano (old english)] the new york newspapers of olden time contain many notices that are curious enough to us who read them over in this day and generation. for instance, we find that "peter goelet has just gotten in a supply of goods on the ship 'earl of dunmore,' and advertises that he has over three hundred articles, from masons' trowels to oil paint, skillets and books, paint-pots, guitars, fiddles, flutes and other musical instruments, as well as a large box of harpsichord wire and hammers." this motley collection no doubt found eager customers. another paper tells us that "herman zedwitz, teacher of the violin, announces to the public that he has just returned from europe and will give a concert in the assembly rooms at the 'sign of the golden spade.'" later, in 1774, this same man evidently found that the public did not appreciate him musically, for the intervals were so long between lessons and engagements for his violin that he was forced to take up the occupation of a chimney sweep. from accounts in the paper he must have inaugurated a sort of trust, for he advertised to take contracts by the year for "dusting out the sooty interior of flues" and adds, "none but competent boys employed." evidently musical culture in new york was temporarily at a low ebb. in this story of the evolution of the piano we have seen how, from its primitive beginning, it has become the one splendid instrument that is capable of representing the effect of a full orchestra. before the death of beethoven he realized the tremendous power of the piano and displayed its resources in a manner undreamed of by haydn. could these old masters return today and sit at one of the splendid productions of the twentieth century they would be dumb with amazement and entirely at a loss as to how to handle the enormous range of seven and a third octaves. best of all, the price is such that some style of modern piano is within the reach of nearly every one. music in the home is now the rule, not the exception. leigh hunt has well expressed the feeling of all piano lovers in these verses, which are full of sentiment: oh, friend, whom glad or gay we seek, heaven-holding shrine; i ope thee, touch thee, hear thee speak, and peace is mine. no fairy casket full of bliss, outvalues thee; love only, wakened with a kiss more sweet may be. to thee, when our full hearts o'erflow, in griefs or joys unspeakable, emotions owe a fitting voice. mirth flees to thee, and loves unrest, and memory dear, and sorrow, with his tightened breast comes for a tear. oh, since few joys of human mould, thus wait us still, thrice blessed be thine, thou gentle fold of peace at will. no change, no sullenness, no cheat in thee we find; thy saddest voice is ever sweet, thine answer kind. [transcriber's note: the following typographical errors have been corrected: "stien," "stiens," and "stienert" have been changed to "stein," "steins," and "steinert" in a number of places throughout the text. the incorrect page number in the list of illustrations for the charles albrecht piano illustration has been changed.] piano and song _how to teach, how to learn,_ and how to form a judgment of musical performances. translated from the german of friedrich wieck. boston: lockwood, brooks, & company. 1875. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1875, by noyes, holmes, and company, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington. _cambridge:_ _press of john wilson and son._ translator's preface. friedrich wieck, the author of the work a translation of which is here offered to the public, was during his long life a distinguished teacher of music. he died in the autumn of 1873. he was the father and teacher of the celebrated pianist, clara wieck, now fr. dr. clara schumann, widow of the renowned composer robert schumann, who was also a pupil of wieck. his second daughter, fräulein marie wieck, is well known in germany as an artistic performer on the piano-forte. i have translated this little book, with the belief that a knowledge of the author's views will be no less valuable in america than in his own country; and with the hope that it may find readers who will be glad to receive the suggestions of so experienced a teacher. in illustration of his method, in addition to the two etudes, already published by f. whistling, leipzig, a number of piano exercises, &c., selected from the literary remains of wieck, by his daughter marie wieck and his pupil louis grosse, are, it is said, about to be published. i have omitted in the translation a few portions on the composition and management of the opera, on the giving of concerts, and on the construction of the piano, thinking that they would be of little interest or practical value to the general public. mary p. nichols. preface to the first edition. i here present to the musical public a book written in a style of my own, not a scientific and systematically well-arranged treatise. this no reasonable man would expect of an old music-master, who, in his long practice in the realm of tones, could not arrive at learned and too often fruitless deductions. nature made me susceptible to that which is good and beautiful; a correct instinct and a tolerable understanding have taught me to avoid the false and the vicious; a desire for increased knowledge has led me to observe carefully whatever i met with in my path in life; and i may say, without hesitation, that i have endeavored, according to my ability, to fill the position to which i have been called. this is no vain boast, but only the justifiable assertion of a good conscience; and this no man needs to withhold. for these reasons, i have been unwilling to refrain from giving to the world a true expression of my opinions and feelings. i trust they will meet with a few sympathizing spirits who are willing to understand my aims; but i shall be still more happy if, here and there, a music-teacher will adopt the views here set forth, at the same time carefully and thoughtfully supplying many things which it did not enter into my plan to explain more in detail. abundant material lay spread out before me, and even increased upon my hands while i was writing. art is indeed so comprehensive, and every thing in life is so closely connected with it, that whoever loves and fosters it will daily find in it new sources of enjoyment and new incitements to study. the most experienced teacher of art must be a constant learner. i have always held and still hold the opinions advanced in this work, and i have neglected no opportunity to impress them upon my pupils. i may be allowed to mention here, with some satisfaction, my daughters clara and marie; and, among numerous other pupils, i speak with equal pleasure of the estimable herr waldemar heller, of dresden, and prof. e.f. wenzel, of leipzig. i have always enjoyed their affection and gratitude, and i feel a pride that they continue to defend and to teach the principles which they have received from me. this is not the first time that i have appeared as an author. the "signale für die musikalische welt," as well as the "neue zeitschrift für musik," have published numerous essays from my pen under various titles. the approval which they met with, at the time of their appearance, has induced me to undertake this larger work. several of those earlier writings are included in this book, but in a partially altered form. the frequently recurring character, the teacher dominie, originated with these essays; i need hardly say that he represents my humble self. those who are otherwise unacquainted with me will through him understand my character, and will moreover see that a man of such caustic brevity can be, by no means, a master of polished style. may this last acknowledgment appease all those critics whose hair is made to stand on end by my inelegant mode of writing. i will make no further apology for my style. i have often availed myself of the dialogue form, because it was conducive to brevity; not less frequently i have made use of the form of the epistle and of personal discourse, as being more congenial to my individual manner than that of a serious treatise. i have also undertaken to say something about singing! a piano-teacher, if he is possessed of mind and talent, as i suppose him to be, whether he teaches the elements or occupies himself with more advanced instruction, should understand the art of singing; he, at least, should show a warm interest in it, and should have an earnest love for it. when i speak in general of singing, i refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is the foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, i consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch upon the piano. in many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. they should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. my book will make this evident to many; but whether it will succeed with all, i doubt. not a few will even be found who will lay aside my book with contempt, and who will scorn the zeal of the "man of the past age." i am quite prepared for this: it is the fashion at present to undervalue the old times and their defenders; but i shall continue to be conservative, until the "men of the future" shall be able to show me results which shall excel those of the past, or at least shall equal them. and now i commend my little book to the public, trusting that it will instruct the willing, correct the erring, incite the indolent, and chastise those who wilfully persist in the wrong. the author. contents. chap. i. on elementary piano-forte instruction ii. an evening entertainment at herr zach's iii. many students of the piano and few players iv. a conversation with mrs. solid, and four lessons to her daughter v. on the pedal vi. the soft-pedal sentiment vii. a musical tea-party at the house of john spriggins viii. singing and singing-teachers ix. thoughts on singing x. visit at mrs. n.'s xi. secrets xii. thoughts on piano-playing xiii. on musical talent xiv. extravagances in singing and piano-playing xv. conclusion piano and song. chapter i. on elementary piano-forte instruction. you ask, my dear friend, for some particular information about my piano method, especially with regard to my mode of elementary instruction, which differs essentially from that in common use. i give you here the main points; and, if you place confidence in my experience of forty years, and if you will supply those details which i have omitted, your own varied experience as a thoughtful, talented, and earnest piano-teacher will enable you to understand my theory, from the following dialogue between my humble self under the title of dominie, my friend, and the little bessie:-dominie. my dear friend, how have you managed to make piano-playing so utterly distasteful to little susie? and how is it that the instruction which you have given her for the last three years actually amounts to nothing? friend. well, i will tell you how i have proceeded. first i taught her the names of the keys, that was pretty dull work for her; then i made her learn the treble notes, which was a difficult matter; after that i taught her the bass notes, which puzzled her still more; then i undertook to teach her a pretty little piece, which she hoped to perform for the delight of her parents. of course she constantly confused the bass and treble notes, she could not keep time, she always used the wrong fingers and could not learn it at all. then i scolded her,--she only cried; i tried a little coaxing,--that made her cry worse; finally i put an end to the piano lessons, and she begged me never to begin them again; and there you have the whole story. dominie. you certainly might have begun more judiciously. how is it possible for a child to climb a ladder when not only the lower rounds, but a great many more, are wanting? nature makes no leaps, least of all with children. friend. but did she not begin to climb the ladder at the bottom? dominie. by no means. she certainly never was able to reach the top. i should say, rather, that she tumbled down head foremost. to speak mildly, she began to climb in the middle; and even then you tried to chase her up, instead of allowing her, carefully and quietly, to clamber up one step at a time. bring me your youngest daughter, bessie, and i will show you how i give a first lesson. dominie. bessie, can you say your letters after me? so,--_c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. dominie. go on,--_g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. bessie. _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. once more: the first four again, then the next four. that's right: now all the eight, one after the other, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. (_after repeating this several times_). that's good: now you see you have learned something already. that is the musical alphabet, and those are the names of the white keys on the piano-forte. presently you shall find them out, and learn to name them yourself. but, first, you must take notice (i strike the keys in succession with my finger, from the one-lined _c_ to the highest treble) that these sounds grow higher and become sharper one after the other; and in this way (i strike the keys from one-lined _c_ to the lowest bass) you hear that the sounds grow lower and heavier. the upper half, to the right, is called the treble; the lower half is the bass. you quite understand now the difference between the high sharp tones and the low deep ones? now we will go on. what you see here, and will learn to play upon, is called the key-board, consisting of white keys and black ones. you shall presently learn to give the right names both to the white keys and the black; you see there are always two black keys and then three black keys together, all the way up and down the key-board. now put the fore-finger of your right hand on the lower one of any of the two black keys that are together, and let it slip off on to the white key next below it; now you have found the key called _c_; what is the name of the next key above it? say the whole musical alphabet. bessie. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. well, then, that key is called _d_. bessie. then this one must be _e_. dominie. and now comes _f_. anywhere on the key-board you can find _f_ just as easily, if you put your finger on the lowest of any three black keys that are together, and let it slip off on to the white key next below it. if you remember where these two keys, _f_ and _c_, are, both in the treble and the bass, you can easily find the names of all the other keys. now what is the next key above _f_? bessie. _g_, and then _a_, _b_, _c_. dominie. now we will say over several times the names of the keys, upwards and downwards, and learn to find them skipping about in any irregular order. at the end of the lesson we will try them over once more, and before the next lesson you will know the names of all the white keys. you must practise finding them out by yourself; you can't make a mistake, if you are careful to remember where the _c_ and the _f_ are. i told you that the sounds this way (i strike the keys upward) grow higher, and this way (i strike them downwards) they grow lower. so you see no tones are just alike: one is either higher or lower than the other. do you hear the difference? now turn round so as not to see the keys; i will strike two keys, one after the other; now which is the highest (the sharpest), the first or the second? (i go on in this way, gradually touching keys nearer and nearer together; sometimes, in order to puzzle her and to excite close attention, i strike the lower one gently and the higher one stronger, and keep on sounding them, lower and lower towards the bass, according to the capacity of the pupil.) i suppose you find it a little tiresome to listen so closely; but a delicate, quick ear is necessary for piano-playing, and by and by it will become easier to you. but i won't tire you with it any more now, we will go on to something else. can you count 3,--1, 2, 3? bessie. yes, indeed, and more too. dominie. we'll see; now keep counting 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, as evenly and regularly as you can. (i lead her to count steadily, and strike at the same time a chord in three even quarter-notes.) now we'll see if you can count evenly by yourself. (i count 1 of the chord with her, and leave her to count 2 and 3 by herself; or else i count with her at 2, and let her count 1 and 3 alone; but i am careful to strike the chord promptly and with precision. afterwards i strike the chord in eighth-notes, and let her count 1, 2, 3; in short, i give the chord in various ways, in order to teach her steadiness in counting, and to confine her attention. in the same way i teach her to count 1, 2, 1, 2; or 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; at the same time telling her that music is sometimes counted in triple time, and sometimes in 2/4 or 4/4 time.) now, bessie, you have learned to count very well, and to know the difference in the tones. it is not every child that learns this in the first lesson. if you don't get tired of it, you will some time learn to be a good player. as soon as you are rested, i will tell you about something else, that you will have to listen to very carefully. bessie. but i like it, and will take pains to listen just as closely as i can. dominie. when several tones are struck at the same time, if they sound well together, they make what we call a chord. but there are both major and minor chords: the major chord sounds joyous, gay; the minor, sad, dull, as you would say; the former laugh, the latter weep. now take notice whether i am right. (i strike the chord of c major; then, after a short pause, that of c minor; and try, by a stronger or lighter touch, to make her listen first to the major and then to the minor chords. she usually distinguishes correctly; but it will not do to dwell too long upon these at first, or to try to enforce any thing by too much talk and explanation.) now i will tell you that the difference in the sounds of these chords is in the third, counted upwards from the lower note _c_, and depends upon whether you take it half a tone higher or lower, _e_ or _e_ flat. i shall explain this better to you by and by, when you come to learn about the tonic, the third, the fifth or dominant, the octave, and so on. (it is advantageous and psychologically correct to touch occasionally, in passing, upon points which will be more thoroughly taught later. it excites the interest of the pupil. thus the customary technical terms are sometimes made use of beforehand, and a needful, cursory explanation given of them.) that is right; you can tell them pretty well already; now we will repeat once more the names of the keys, and then we will stop for to-day. just see how many things you have learned in this lesson. bessie. it was beautiful! dominie. i hope you will always find it so. bessie. when may i have another lesson? dominie. day after to-morrow; at first, you must have at least three lessons a week. bessie. what shall i do in the next lesson? dominie. i shall repeat all that i have taught you to-day; but i shall teach you a great deal of it in a different way, and every time i shall teach it to you differently, so that it shall always be interesting to you. in the next lesson we will begin to play, first on the table, and at last on the piano. you will learn to move your fingers lightly and loosely, and quite independently of the arm, though at first they will be weak; and you will learn to raise them and let them fall properly. besides that, we will contrive a few exercises to teach you to make the wrist loose, for that must be learned in the beginning in order to acquire a fine touch on the piano; that is, to make the tones sound as beautiful as possible. i shall show you how to sit at the piano and how to hold your hands. you will learn the names of the black keys and the scale of c, with the half-step from the 3d to the 4th and also that from the 7th to the 8th, which latter is called the leading note, which leads into c. (this is quite important for my method, for in this way the different keys can be clearly explained.) you will learn to find the chord of c in the bass and the treble, and to strike them with both hands together. and then in the third or fourth lesson, after you know quite perfectly all that i have already taught you, i will teach you to play a little piece that will please you, and then you will really be a player, a pianist. friend. from whom have you learned all this? it goes like the lightning-train. dominie. a great many people can learn _what_ is to be taught; but _how_ it is to be taught i have only found out by devoting my whole mind, with real love and constant thought, to the musical improvement and general mental development of my pupils. the advancement will unquestionably be rapid, for it proceeds step by step, and one thing is founded upon another; the pupil learns every thing quietly, thoughtfully, and surely, without going roundabout, without any hindrances and mistakes to be unlearned. i never try to teach too much or too little; and, in teaching each thing, i try to prepare and lay the foundation for other things to be afterwards learned. i consider it very important not to try to cram the child's memory with the teacher's wisdom (as is often done in a crude and harsh way); but i endeavor to excite the pupil's mind, to interest it, and to let it develop itself, and not to degrade it to a mere machine. i do not require the practice of a vague, dreary, time and mind killing piano-jingling, in which way, as i see, your little susie was obliged to learn; but i observe a musical method, and in doing this always keep strictly in view the individuality and gradual development of the pupil. in more advanced instruction, i even take an interest in the general culture and disposition of the pupil, and improve every opportunity to call forth the sense of beauty, and continually to aid in the intellectual development. friend. but where are the notes all this time? dominie. before that, we have a great deal to do that is interesting and agreeable. i keep constantly in view the formation of a good technique; but i do not make piano-playing distasteful to the pupil by urging her to a useless and senseless mechanical "practising." i may perhaps teach the treble notes after the first six months or after sixty or eighty lessons, but i teach them in my own peculiar way, so that the pupil's mind may be kept constantly active. with my own daughters i did not teach the treble notes till the end of the first year's instruction, the bass notes several months later. friend. but what did you do meanwhile? dominie. you really ought to be able to answer that question for yourself after hearing this lesson, and what i have said about it. i have cultivated a musical taste in my pupils, and almost taught them to be skilful, good players, without knowing a note. i have taught a correct, light touch of the keys from the fingers, and of whole chords from the wrist; to this i have added the scales in all the keys; but these should not be taught at first, with both hands together. the pupil may gradually acquire the habit of practising them together later; but it is not desirable to insist on this too early, for in playing the scales with both hands together the weakness of the fourth finger is concealed, and the attention distracted from the feeble tones, and the result is an unequal and poor scale. at the same time, i have in every way cultivated the sense of time, and taught the division of the bars. i have helped the pupils to invent little cadences with the dominant and sub-dominant and even little exercises, to their great delight and advantage; and i have, of course, at the same time insisted on the use of the correct fingering. you see that, in order to become practical, i begin with the theory. so, for instance, i teach the pupil to find the triad and the dominant chord of the seventh, with their transpositions in every key, and to practise them diligently; and to make use of these chords in all sorts of new figures and passages. but all this must be done without haste, and without tiring the pupil too much with one thing, or wearing out the interest, which is all-important. after that, i teach them to play fifty or sixty little pieces, which i have written for this purpose. they are short, rhythmically balanced, agreeable, and striking to the ear, and aim to develop gradually an increased mechanical skill. i require them to be learned by heart, and often to be transposed into other keys; in which way the memory, which is indispensable for piano playing, is unconsciously greatly increased. they must be learned _perfectly_ and played well, often, according to the capacity of the pupil, even finely; in strict time (counting aloud is seldom necessary) and without stumbling or hesitating; first slowly, then fast, faster, slow again, _staccato_, _legato_, _piano_, _forte_, _crescendo_, _diminuendo_, &c. this mode of instruction i find always successful; but i do not put the cart before the horse, and, without previous technical instruction, begin my piano lessons with the extremely difficult acquirement of the treble and bass notes. in a word, i have striven, as a psychologist and thinker, as a man and teacher, for a many-sided culture. i have also paid great attention to the art of singing, as a necessary foundation for piano-playing. i have devoted some talent, and at least an enthusiastic, unwearied love to the subject. i have never stood still; have learned something of teaching every day, and have sought always to improve myself; i have always been something new and different, in every lesson and with every child; i have always kept up a cheerful, joyous courage, and this has usually kindled the same in my pupil, because it came from the heart. moreover, i have never been a man of routine, have never shown myself a pedant, who is obliged to hold fast to certain ideas and views. i have lived up to the century, and have tried to understand and to advance the age; have heard every thing great and fine in music, and have induced my pupils also to hear it. i have opposed with determination all the prejudices and false tendencies of the times, and never have allowed impatient parents to give advice about my lessons. i have insisted upon a good and well-tuned instrument for my pupils, and have endeavored to merit the love and confidence both of my pupils and of their parents. in fact, i have devoted myself thoroughly to my calling, and have been wholly a teacher, always fixing my eye on the true, the beautiful, and the artistic; and in this way have been of service to my pupils. friend. but how do you find parents who sympathize with your ideas and with your lofty views? dominie. i have found that almost all the parents of my pupils have entered into my views, if not immediately, at least after they had been present at a few lessons. in the case of those few who would not enter into them, i have abandoned the lessons; but, nevertheless, i have found that my time has been fully occupied. my friend, do you not think that views like these will assist in the training of young and inexperienced teachers, who are striving for improvement? and do you not think they will be useful even to those who already possess general mental culture, and who are animated by an ardent love for their calling? i especially avoid giving here any exclusive method, a servile following of which would be entirely contrary to my intentions, and, in fact, contrary to my method. but as for the rest! alas, all those who do not understand me, or who choose to misunderstand me, those are the worst!--especially the ill-natured people, the _classical_ people who bray about music, stride straight to the notes, and have no patience till they come to beethoven; who foolishly prate and fume about my unclassical management, but at bottom only wish to conceal their own unskilfulness, their want of culture and of disinterestedness, or to excuse their habitual drudgery. lazy people without talent i cannot undertake to inspirit, to teach, and to cultivate. this chapter will, almost by itself, point out to unprejudiced minds my method of giving more advanced instruction, and will show in what spirit i have educated my own daughters, even to the highest point of musical culture, without using the slightest severity. it will, indeed, cause great vexation to the ill-minded and even to the polite world, who attribute the musical position of my daughters in the artistic world to a tyranny used by me, to immoderate and unheard-of "practising," and to tortures of every kind; and who do not hesitate to invent and industriously to circulate the most absurd reports about it, instead of inquiring into what i have already published about teaching, and comparing it with the management which, with their own children, has led only to senseless thrumming. chapter ii. an evening entertainment at herr zach's. dramatis personæ. herr zach, _formerly a flute-player, not very wealthy._ his wife, _of the family of tz. (rather sharp-tempered)._ stock, _her son, 17 years old (is studying the piano thoroughly)._ mr. buffalo, _music-master of the family._ dominie, _piano-teacher (rather gruff)._ cecilia, _his daughter, 13 years old (shy)._ zach (_to dominie_). i regret that i was unable to attend the concert yesterday. i was formerly musical myself and played on the flute. your daughter, i believe, plays pretty well. dominie. well, yes! perhaps something more than _pretty well_. we are in earnest about music. madame, of the tz. family (_envious because cecilia received applause for her public performance yesterday, and because mr. buffalo had been unable to bring out stock,--all in one breath_). when did your daughter begin to play? just how old is she now? does she like playing? they say you are very strict, and tie your daughters to the piano-stool. how many hours a day do you make her practise? don't you make her exert herself too much? has she talent? isn't she sickly? dominie. don't you think she looks in good health, madam,--tall and strong for her years? madame, of the tz. family. but perhaps she might look more cheerful, if she was not obliged to play on the piano so much. dominie (_bowing_). i can't exactly say. zach (_suddenly interrupting, and holding dominie by the button-hole_). they say you torment and ill-treat your daughters dreadfully; that the eldest was obliged to practise day and night. well, you shall hear my stock play this evening, who, some time, by the grace of god, is to take the place of thalberg in the world. now give me your opinion freely (of course, i was only to praise): we should like very much to hear what you think about his playing, though perhaps mr. buffalo may not agree with you. (_mr. buffalo is looking through the music-case and picking out all the etudes, by listening to which dominie is to earn his supper._) dominie (_resigned and foreseeing that he shall be bored_). i have heard a great deal of the industry of your son, stock. what are you studying now, mr. stock? stock (_in proud self-consciousness, rather sophomoric_). i play six hours a day, two hours scales with both hands together, and four hours etudes. i have already gone through the first book of clementi and four books of cramer. now i am in the gradus ad parnassum: i have already studied the right fingering for it. dominie. indeed, you are very much in earnest: that speaks well for you, and for mr. buffalo. but what pieces are you studying with the etudes? hummel, mendelssohn, chopin, or schumann? stock (_contemptuously_). mr. buffalo can't bear chopin and schumann. mr. buffalo lately played through schumann's "kinderscenen," that people are making such a talk about. my mamma, who is also musical, and used to sing when papa played the flute, said, "what ridiculous little things are those? are they waltzes for children? and then the babyish names for them! he may play such stuff to his wife, but not to us." dominie. well, these "kinderscenen" _are_ curious little bits for grown-up men's hands. your mother is right, they are too short: there certainly ought to be more of them. but they are not waltzes! stock. indeed, i am not allowed to play waltzes at all. my teacher is very thorough: first, i shall have to dig through all the gradus ad parnassum; and then he is going to undertake a concerto of beethoven's with me, and will write the proper fingering over it. i shall play that in public; and then, as he and my aunt say, "i shall be the death of you all." mr. buffalo (_who has overheard him, steps up_). now, herr dominie, how do you like my method? perhaps you have a different one? nevertheless, that shan't prevent our being good friends. certainly, if any thing is to be accomplished in these times, it is necessary to keep at work,--that is my doctrine. but stock, here, has unusual patience and perseverance. he has worked through all cramer's 96 etudes in succession without grumbling. he was wretched enough over them; but his papa bought him a saddle-horse to ride round on every day, and he revived in the fresh air. (_herr zach with his wife and an old aunt are playing cards in the further room._) dominie. but do you not combine the study of musical pieces with the study of exercises, in order that the cultivation of the taste may go hand in hand with mechanical improvement? mr. buffalo. my dear friend, you are too narrow-minded there,--you make a mistake: taste must come of itself, from much playing and with years. your cecilia played the two new waltzes, and the nocturne of chopin, and beethoven's trio very nicely. but then that was all drilled into her: we could tell that well enough by hearing it,--stock and i. dominie. did it sound unnatural to you,--mannered? and did you think it wooden, dry, dull? mr. buffalo. not exactly that; but the trouble was it sounded _studied_. the public applauded, it is true; but they don't know any thing. stock and i thought-dominie. do you not think that the taste for a beautiful interpretation may be early awakened, without using severity with the pupil? and that to excite the feeling for music, to a certain degree, even in early years, is in fact essential? the neglect of this very thing is the reason that we are obliged to listen to so many players, who really have mechanically practised themselves to death, and have reduced musical art to mere machinery,--to an idle trick of the fingers. mr. buffalo. that's all nonsense. i say teach them the scales, to run up and down the gamut! gradus ad parnassum's the thing! classical, classical! yesterday you made your daughter play that trill-etude by carl meyer. altogether too fine-sounding! it tickles the ear, to be sure, especially when it is played in such a studied manner. _we_ stick to clementi and cramer, and to hummel's piano-school,--the good old school. you have made a great mistake with your eldest daughter. dominie. the world does not seem to agree with you. madame, of the tz. family (_has listened and lost a trick by it, steps up quickly, and says maliciously_). you must agree that she would have played better, if you had left her for ten years with cramer and clementi. we don't like this tendency to schumann and chopin. but what folly to talk! one must be careful what one says to the father of such a child! it is quite a different thing with us. mr. buffalo is bound to our stock by no bond of affection. he follows out his aim without any hesitation or vanity, and looks neither to the right nor to the left, but straightforward. dominie. i beg your pardon, madam: you may be right,--from your point of view. we must be a little indulgent with sensitive people. but will not your son play to us? (_stock plays two etudes of clementi, three of cramer, and four from the gradus, but did not even grow warm over them. the horse his father gave him has made him quite strong._) * * * * * i may be asked, "but how did stock play?" how? i do not wish to write a treatise: my plan is only to give hints and suggestions. i am not writing in the interest of stock, buffalo, & co. after the playing, we went to supper: the oysters were good, but the wine left a little sharp taste. my timid daughter did not like oysters; but she ate a little salad, and at table listened instead of talking. a few innocent anecdotes were related at table about horses and balls and dogs and stock's future. on taking leave, madame said condescendingly to cecilia, "if you keep on, my dear, one of these days you will play very nicely." chapter iii. many students of the piano and few players. _(a letter addressed to the father of a piano pupil)._ it is a pity that you have no sons, for a father takes great delight in his sons; but i agree with you, when you say that, if you had one, you would rather he should break stones than pound the piano. you say you have many friends who rejoice in that paternal felicity, and whose sons, great and small, bright and dull, have been learning the piano for three years or more, and still can do nothing. you are doubtless right; and, further, they never will learn any thing. you ask, of what use is it to man or boy to be able to stammer through this or that waltz, or polonaise or mazurka, with stiff arms, weak fingers, a stupid face, and lounging figure? what gain is it to art? you say, is not time worth gold, and yet we are offered lead? and the poor teachers torment themselves and the boys, abuse art and the piano; and at the end of the evening, in despair, torment their own wives, after they have all day long been scolding, cuffing, and lamenting, without success or consolation. you speak the truth. i have had the same experience myself, though not to the same degree, and though i did not bring home to my wife a dreary face, but only a good appetite. but i did not give myself up to lamentation over piano-teaching. i gathered up courage and rose above mere drudgery. i reflected and considered and studied, and tried whether i could not manage better, as i found i could not succeed with the boys; and i have managed better and succeeded better, because i have hit upon a different way, and one more in accordance with nature than that used in the piano schools. i laid down, as the first and most important principle, the necessity for "the formation of a fine touch," just as singing-teachers rely upon the culture of a fine tone, in order to teach singing well. i endeavored, without notes, to make the necessary exercises so interesting that the attention of the pupils always increased; and that they even, after a short time, took great pleasure in a sound, tender, full, singing tone; an acquirement which, unfortunately, even many _virtuosos_ do not possess. in this way, we made an opening at the beginning, not in the middle: we harnessed the horse _before_ the wagon. the pupil now obtained a firm footing, and had something to enjoy, without being tormented at every lesson with dry matters to be learned, the advantage of which was not obvious to him, and the final aim of which he did not perceive. until a correct touch has been acquired, it is of no use to talk about a fine singing tone. how can we expect to arouse an interest by mere toneless tinkling, while stiff, inflexible fingers are struggling with the notes; while the pupil sees only his inability to do any thing right, and receives nothing but blame from the teacher; while, at the same time, so much is to be kept in mind, and he must be required to observe the time, and to use the right fingers? poor, stupid children! later, after teaching the notes, i did not fall into the universal error of selecting pieces which were either too difficult, or such as, though purely musical, were not well adapted to the piano; but i chose short, easy pieces, without prominent difficulties, in the correct and skilful performance of which the pupil might take pleasure. consequently, they were studied carefully, slowly, willingly, and with interest, which last is a great thing gained; for the pupil rejoiced in the anticipation of success. the struggle over single difficult places destroys all pleasure, palsies talent, creates disgust, and, what is worse, it tends to render uncertain the confirmation of the faculty already partially acquired,--of _bringing out a fine legato tone, with loose and quiet fingers and a yielding, movable wrist, without the assistance of the arm_. you suppose that talent is especially wanting, and not merely good teachers; for otherwise, with the zealous pursuit of piano-playing in saxony, we should produce hundreds who could, at least, play correctly and with facility, if not finely. here you are mistaken: we have, on the contrary, a great deal of musical talent. there are, also, even in the provincial cities, teachers who are not only musical, but who also possess so much zeal and talent for teaching that many of their pupils are able to play tolerably well. i will add further, that the taste for music is much more cultivated and improved, even in small places, by singing-societies and by public and private concerts, than was formerly the case. we also have much better aids in instruction books, études, and suitable piano pieces; but still we find everywhere "jingling" and "piano-banging," as you express it, and yet no piano-playing. let us consider this aspect of the subject a little more closely. in the first place, the proper basis for a firm structure is wanting. the knowledge of the notes cannot afford a proper basis, except in so far as it is of service in the execution of a piece. of what use are the notes to a singer, if he has no attack, and does not understand the management of the voice? of what use to the piano-learner, if he has no touch, no tone on the piano-forte. is this to be acquired by playing the notes? but how then is it to be learned? one thing more. owing to an over-zeal for education, children are kept in school from seven to ten hours in a day, and then they are required to work and commit to memory in their free hours, when they ought to be enjoying the fresh air. but when are they then to have their piano lessons? after they have escaped from the school-room, and consequently when the children are exhausted and their nerves unstrung. what cruelty! instead of bread and butter and fresh air, piano lessons! the piano ought to be studied with unimpaired vigor, and with great attention and interest, otherwise no success is to be expected. besides this, much writing, in itself, makes stiff, inflexible fingers. but when is the child to find time for the necessary practice of the piano lessons? well, in the evening, after ten o'clock for refreshment, while papa and mamma are in bed! and now, after the school-days are happily over, and the children have possibly retained their red cheeks, then their occupations in life lay claim to their time; or, if they are girls, they are expected to busy themselves with embroidery, knitting, sewing, crochet, making clothes, house-work, tea parties, and alas! with balls; and now, too, comes the time for lovers. do you imagine that the fingers of pupils sixteen years old can learn mechanical movements as easily as those of children nine years old? in order to satisfy the present demands in any degree, the technique should be settled at sixteen. under all these circumstances, we find the best teachers become discouraged, and fall into a dull routine, which truly can lead to no success. in conclusion, i beg you to invite the piano teacher, mr. strict, to whom you have confided the instruction of your only daughter, rosalie, to pay me a visit, and i will give him particular directions for a gradual development in piano-playing, up to beethoven's op. 109 or chopin's f minor concerto. but i shall find him too fixed in his own theories, too much of a composer, too conceited and dogmatic, and not sufficiently practical, to be a good teacher, or to exert much influence; and, indeed, he has himself a stiff, restless, clumsy touch, that expends half its efforts in the air. he talks bravely of études, scales, &c.; but the question with regard to these is _how they are taught_. the so-called practising of exercises, without having previously formed a sure touch, and carefully and skilfully fostering it is not much more useful than playing pieces. but i hear him reply, with proud and learned self-consciousness: "music, music! classical, classical! spirit! expression! bach, beethoven, mendelssohn!" that is just the difficulty. look at his pupils, at his pianists! see how his children are musically stifled, and hear his daughter sing the classical arias composed by himself! however, it is all musical! farewell. chapter iv. a conversation with mrs. solid, and four lessons to her daughter. mrs. solid. i should be glad to understand how it is that your daughters are able to play the numerous pieces which i have heard from them so correctly and intelligently, without bungling or hesitation, and with so much expression, and the most delicate shading; in fact, in such a masterly manner. from my youth upwards, i have had tolerable instruction. i have played scales and études for a long time; and have taken great pleasure in studying and industriously practising numerous compositions of kalkbrenner and hummel, under their own direction. i have even been celebrated for my talent; but, nevertheless, i never have had the pleasure of being able to execute any considerable piece of music to my own satisfaction or that of others; and i fear it will be the same with my daughter emily. dominie. in order to give a satisfactory answer to your question, i will lay before you a few of my principles and opinions in respect to musical culture, with special reference to piano-playing. educated ladies of the present time make greater pretensions and greater demands than formerly in regard to music and musical execution; and consequently their own performances do not usually correspond with their more or less cultivated taste for the beautiful, which has been awakened by their careful general education. thus they are aware that they are not able to give satisfaction, either to themselves or to others; and from this arises a want of that confidence in their own powers, which should amount almost to a consciousness of infallibility, in order to produce a satisfactory musical performance. this confidence has its foundation in a full, firm, clear, and musical touch, the acquisition of which has been, and is still, too much neglected by masters and teachers. a correct mechanical facility and its advanced cultivation rest upon this basis alone; which, moreover, requires special attention upon our softly leathered pianos, which are much more difficult to play upon than the old-fashioned instruments. it is a mistake to suppose that a correct touch, which alone can produce a good execution, will come of itself, through the practice of études and scales. even with masters, it is unusual to meet with a sound, fine, unexceptionable touch, like that of field and moscheles, and among the more recent that of thalberg, chopin, mendelssohn, and henselt. i will speak now of the selection of pieces. our ladies are not contented to play simple music, which presents few difficulties and requires no involved fingering; and from which they might gradually advance by correct and persevering study to more difficult pieces. they at once seize upon grand compositions by beethoven, c.m. von weber, mendelssohn, chopin, and others, and select also, for the sake of variety, the bravoura pieces of liszt, thalberg, henselt, &c. how can they expect to obtain a command of such pieces, when their early education was insufficient for our exalted demands in mechanical skill, and their subsequent instruction has also been faulty and without method? if you were to request me to supply in some degree your own deficiencies, before i proceed to the further education of your daughter, i should not begin with the wisdom of our friend mr. buffalo: "madam, you must every day practise the major and minor scales, in all the keys, with both hands at once, and also in thirds and in sixths; and you must work three or four hours daily at études of clementi, cramer, and moscheles; otherwise, your playing will never amount to any thing." such advice has frequently been given by teachers like mr. buffalo, and is still daily insisted on; but we will, for the present, set such nonsense aside. i shall, in the first place, endeavor to improve your touch, which is too thin, feeble, and incorrect; which makes too much unnecessary movement, and tries to produce the tone in the air, instead of drawing it out with the keys. this will not require a long time, for i have well-formed, young hands to work upon, with skilful fingers in good condition. i will employ, for this purpose, several of the short exercises mentioned in my first chapter, and shall require them to be transposed into various keys, and played without notes, in order that you may give your whole attention to your hands and fingers. above all things, i wish you to observe how i try to bring out from the piano the most beautiful possible tone, with a quiet movement of the fingers and a correct position of the hand; without an uneasy jerking of the arm, and with ease, lightness, and sureness. i shall certainly insist upon scales also, for it is necessary to pay great care and attention to passing the thumb under promptly and quietly, and to the correct, easy position of the arm. but i shall be content with the practice of scales for a quarter of an hour each day, which i require to be played, according to my discretion, _staccato_, _legato_, fast, slow, _forte_, _piano_, with one hand or with both hands, according to circumstances. this short time daily for scale-practice is sufficient, provided, always, that i have no stiff fingers, or unpractised or ruined structure of the hand to educate. for very young beginners with weak fingers, the scales should be practised only _piano_, until the fingers acquire strength. i should continue in this way with you for two weeks, but every day with some slight change. after a short time, i would combine with this practice the study of two or three pieces, suitably arranged for the piano; for example, mozart's minuet in e flat, arranged by schulhoff, and his drinking-song, or similar pieces. we will, at present, have nothing to do with beethoven. you are, perhaps, afraid that all this might be tedious; but i have never been considered tedious in my lessons. i wish you, for the present, not to practise any pieces or exercises except in my presence, until a better touch has been thoroughly established. you must also give up entirely, for a time, playing your previous pieces; for they would give you opportunity to fall again into your faulty mode of playing. i shall also soon put in practice one of my maxims in teaching; viz., that, merely for the acquisition of mechanical facility, all my pupils shall be in the habit of playing daily some appropriate piece, that by its perfect mastery they may gain a fearless confidence. they must regard this piece as a companion, friend, and support. i wish you to learn to consider it a necessity every day, before practising or studying your new piece of music, to play this piece, even if it is done quite mechanically, two or three times, first slowly, then faster; for without ready, flexible fingers, my teaching and preaching will be valueless. mrs. solid. but what pieces, for instance? dominie. for beginners, perhaps one or two of hünten's etudes melodiques; a little later, one of czerny's very judicious etudes from his opus 740; and for more advanced pupils, after they are able to stretch easily and correctly, his toccata, opus 92,--a piece which my three daughters never give up playing, even if they do not play it every day. they practise pieces of this description as a remedy for mechanical deficiencies, changing them every three or four months. in the selection of these, i aim especially at the practice of thirds, trills, stretches, scales, and passages for strengthening the fourth finger; and i choose them with reference to the particular pieces, sonatas, variations, concertos, &c., which they are at the time studying. likewise, in the choice of the latter, i pursue a different course from that which the teachers alluded to above and others are accustomed to follow; though i hope my management is never pedantic, but cautious, artistic, and psychologic. it is easy to see that many teachers, by giving lessons continually, particularly to pupils without talent, are led, even with the best intentions, to fall into a mere routine. we find them often impatient and unsympathetic, especially in the teaching of their own compositions; and again, by their one-sided opinions and capricious requirements, by devoting attention to matters of small importance, and by all sorts of whimsicalities, they contract the intellectual horizon of their pupils, and destroy their interest in the lessons. mrs. solid. your careful mode of proceeding is certainly extremely interesting and convincing; but allow me to request an answer to various objections and considerations which are now and then brought forward, particularly by teachers. dominie. to that i am quite accustomed. the good and the beautiful never obtain uncontested recognition. no one has ever offered any new improvement, and fearlessly spoken the truth, without being attacked, defamed, and despised, or entirely misunderstood. our age can show many proofs of this; for example, let us remember homoeopathy and magnetism. clara wieck was not appreciated in leipzig until she had been admired in paris; nor marie wieck, because she does not play exactly as her sister clara does. the same is the case with my present book, which relentlessly treads upon the incredible follies and lamentable errors of the times. i am quite prepared for opposition of any kind. mrs. solid. i should like to suggest to you that there are other teachers who have given themselves a great deal of trouble, and who are very particular; but it is not their good fortune to have daughters like yours to educate. dominie. have given themselves a great deal of trouble? what do you mean by that? if they do not take pains in the right way, or at the right time and place, it is all labor in vain. of what use is mere unskilful, stupid industry? for instance, when a teacher, in order to correct a stiff use of the fingers and wrist, and the general faulty touch of his pupil, gives some wonderful étude or a piece with great stretches and arpeggios for the left hand, and gives himself unwearied trouble over it, it is a proof of abundant painstaking; but it is labor thrown away, and only makes the imperfect mode of performance the worse. and now with regard to my daughters. it has been their fortune to have had me for a father and teacher: they certainly have talent, and i have been successful in rousing and guiding it. envy, jealousy, pride, and offended egotism have tried as long as possible to dispute this; but at last the effort is abandoned. they say that it requires no art to educate such talent as theirs, that it almost "comes of itself." this assertion is just as false and contrary to experience as it is common, even with educated and thoughtful people, who belong to no clique. lichtenburg says: "it is just those things upon which everybody is agreed that should be subjected to investigation." well, i have made a thorough investigation of these accusations, with regard to my three daughters, and all the talented pupils whom i have been able to educate for good amateurs, and, according to circumstances, for good public performers. the great number of these suffices for my justification. i must add, still further, that it is exactly the "great talents" for singing, or for the piano, who require the most careful, thoughtful, and prudent guidance. look around at the multitude of abortive talents and geniuses! talented pupils are just the ones who have an irresistible desire to be left to their own discretion; they esteem destruction by themselves more highly than salvation by others. mrs. solid. but it is said that you have been able to educate only your three daughters, and none others for public performers. dominie. madam, you cannot be serious. if i were to declaim leporello's list, you might justly consider it an exaggeration; but if, instead of replying to you, i should urge you to read what i have written on the subject, or if i should present your daughter emily to you, after three or four years, as a superior performer, you might pardon my vanity and my ability. i do not possess any magic wand, which envy and folly could not impute to me as an offence. nevertheless, unless circumstances were very adverse, i have, at all events, been able in a short time to accomplish for my pupils the acquisition of a good, or at least an improved, musical touch; and have thus laid a foundation, which other teachers have failed to do by their method, or rather want of method. but you have something else on your mind? mrs. solid. you anticipate me. i was educated in berlin, and in that capital of intelligence a taste prevails for opposition, negation, and thorough criticism. how can you educate artists and _virtuosos_, when you yourself are so little a _virtuoso_? you are not even a composer or learned contrapuntist. a teacher of music wins much greater consideration, if he himself plays concertos and composes pretty things, and if he can calculate and give vent to his genius in double and triple fugues, and in inverse and retrograde canons. you cannot even accompany your pupils with the violin or flute, which is certainly very useful and improving. dominie. the egotist is seldom capable of giving efficient instruction: that lies in the nature of the case. even a child will soon perceive whether the teacher has a sole eye to its interest, or has other and personal aims in view. the former bears good fruits, the latter very doubtful ones. i will say nothing about the stand-point of those egotistical teachers whose first aim is to bring themselves into prominence, and who at the same time are perhaps travelling public performers and composers. they are, it may be, chiefly occupied with double and triple fugues (the more inverted the more learned), and they consider this knowledge the only correct musical foundation. at the same time, they often possess a touch like that of your brother, mr. strict, mentioned in my third chapter, and are utterly devoid of true taste and feeling. while pursuing their fruitless piano lessons, which are quite foreign to their customary train of thought, they regard their occupation only as a milch cow; and they obtain the money of sanguine parents, and sacrifice the time of their pupils. you may try such agreeable personages for yourself: i could wish you no greater punishment. and now i will speak of the violin and the flute. i have never availed myself of those expedients; it is a method which i have never learned. i will describe for your amusement a few interesting incidents, which i had an opportunity to witness in a not inconsiderable city, while on a journey with my daughters. the teacher with the flute was a gentle, quiet, mild musician; he was on very good terms with his pupil, and indulged in no disputes; every thing went on peaceably, without passion, and "in time." they both twittered tenderly and amicably, and were playing, in celebration of the birthday of an old aunt who was rather hard of hearing, a sonata by kuhlau, which was quite within the power of both. the old aunt, who, of course, could hear but little of the soft, flute tones, and the light, thin, modest, square piano, kept asking me: "is not that exquisite? what do you think of it?" i nodded my head and praised it, for the music was modest and made no pretension. i will pass next to the violin. the possessor of this was a type of presumption, vulgarity, and coarseness, and understood how to make an impression on his pupils and their parents by the assumption of extraordinary ability. he consequently enjoyed a certain consideration. he was, moreover, a good musician, and played the violin tolerably in accompanying the piano, in beethoven's opus 17 and 24. in this portrait you have a specimen of the violinist as a piano teacher. of course he understood nothing of piano-playing, and took no interest in wieck's rubbish about beauty of tone; he cared only for beethoven. he now and then tried to sprawl out a few examples of fingering, in a spider-like fashion; but they were seldom successful. his pupils also possessed the peculiar advantage of playing "in time," when they did not stick fast in the difficult places. at such times he always became very cross and severe, and talked about "precision;" in that way instilling respect. his pupils did not jingle, but they had a peculiarly short, pounding touch; and floundered about among the keys with a sort of boldness, and with resolute, jerking elbows. they certainly had no tone, but the violin was therefore heard the better; and after each performance we might have heard, "am i not the first teacher in europe?" mrs. solid. you certainly have shown up two ridiculous figures. dominie. true; but i leave it to every one to make themselves ridiculous. mrs. solid. i am very glad that you have furnished me here with the criticisms of which i stand in need; for i might otherwise have been in danger of supplying you with an example at the next soirée, perhaps at the banker's, mr. gold's. but, as i should like to hear your answer, i will listen to, and report to you, what is said in a certain though not very numerous clique, who are opposed to you and your labors. dominie. those people would act more wisely, if they were to study my writings; in which i will make any corrections, if there is any thing that i can add to them, for the advantage of truth, right, and beauty. and now allow me, miss emily, since you are pretty well advanced, and are not quite spoiled, to show you in a few lessons how to study these variations by herz (les trois graces, no. 1, on a theme from "the pirates"). they are not easy; but i will teach them in a way that shall not weary you or give you a distaste for them. i have intentionally chosen these variations, because they do not lay claim to great musical interest; and, consequently, their mode of performance, their execution, gives them their chief value. moreover, they possess the disadvantage for teaching that they are of unequal difficulty, and require, therefore, the more skill on the part of the teacher to compensate for this. _first lesson._ miss emily, these are very clear, graceful variations, which require an extremely nice, delicate execution; and, especially, a complete mechanical mastery of their various difficulties. although these variations may seem to you too easy, i am governed in the selection of them by the maxim that "what one would learn to play finely must be below the mechanical powers of the pupil." the theme of the italian song, which is the basis of these variations, is very well chosen, and you must take great pains to execute it as finely as possible, and to produce a singing effect upon the piano-forte. after the piece is thoroughly learned, you will be greatly aided in the production of this imitation of singing by the careful and correct use of the pedal which raises the dampers. the theme does not offer great mechanical difficulties; but it requires a loose, broad, full, and yet tender touch, a good _portamento_, and a clear and delicately shaded delivery; for you must remember that "in the performance of a simple theme the well-taught pupil may be recognized." emily. but you do not begin at the beginning: there is an introduction to the piece. dominie. perhaps we shall take that at the last: i can't tell yet when. a great many things in my instruction will seem to you misplaced: it may be that the final result will restore to me the approval which i desire. emily. do you always give such a preliminary description before you begin a piece with a pupil? dominie. i like to do so; for i wish to create an interest in the piece, and to state in connection my principles and views about music and piano-playing. now we will try the theme, first quite slowly; and then the first easy variation, with the last bars at the end of it, which introduce the theme once more, and which should be played very clearly and smoothly. we will then take from the introduction only the right hand, and study the most appropriate fingering for it. i never write this out fully; but only intimate it here and there, in order not to interfere with the spontaneous activity of the learner. we will also take a few portions for the left hand from the finale. in these you must carefully observe the directions which are given for its performance, and try to execute every thing correctly and clearly; for a careless bass is prejudicial to the very best playing in the treble. my lesson is now at an end; for we have taken up a good deal of time at the beginning with the scales, and passing the thumb under correctly, with the different species of touch, and the appropriate exercises for these. i do not wish you yet to practise the first variation with both hands together, for you do not yet strike the skipping bass evenly enough and with sufficient precision; and you might accustom yourself to inaccuracies, especially as your left hand has, as usual, been neglected, and is inferior to the right in lightness and rapidity. we shall find this a hindrance; for the object is not to practise much, but to practise correctly. therefore play these passages first slowly, then quicker, at last very fast; then slow again, sometimes _staccato_, sometimes _legato_, _piano_, and also moderately loud; but never when the hands and fingers are fatigued, therefore not too continuously; but many times in the course of the day, and always with fresh energy. at present, you need not play _fortissimo_, or with the pedal: for in that way you might be led into a tramping style, with a weak, stiff touch, and a habit of striking at the keys with straight fingers; and that i do not like. we will look for the true and the beautiful in a very different treatment of the piano; and, first of all, in a clear, unaffected, healthy performance, free from any forced character. _second lesson._ transposition of the triads and dominant chord in their three positions, and in various kinds of measure; and practice of these, with careful attention to a correct touch and loose wrist; cadences on the dominant and sub-dominant; practice of the skipping bass in the theme, and in the first and third variations, with practice in striking and leaving the chords, observing carefully the precise value of the notes. you must attend also to striking them not too forcibly or too feebly, and take special care with regard to the fourth and fifth fingers, which do not easily give the tone with so full a sound as the other three fingers. now we will try the theme with both hands together, and consider the correct expression, and likewise the _piano_ and _forte_, as well as the nicest _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. we will then take the first easy variation, of which you have already acquired a mastery: we will play it exactly _a tempo_ and with the bass chords, which should usually be given _staccato_, and which must be played with delicacy and flexibility; but it will be well for you to practise first the bass part once alone, in order that you may hear whether all the tones sound evenly. now the first variation will go pretty well with both hands together; with increasing mastery of it, the requisite shading in the right hand can be produced. as your right hand is not yet tired, play to me now several times, first slowly and then faster, the passages which i gave you from the introduction. when the right hand becomes a little fatigued, take a portion from the finale for the left hand. you may also try over the adagio; but i recommend for your special practice the part for the right hand in the third variation. you cannot make a mistake about it, if you do not try to play it too fast, and if you carefully observe the fingering indicated. now i will play the theme to you, as nearly as possible as i heard the famous tenor rubini sing it. you see i place the fingers gently upon the keys and avoid raising them too high, in order not to injure the nice connection of the tones, and to produce a singing tone as far as possible. at the end of the lesson you will play the theme to me once more.... i perceive you play it with too much embarrassment, and not freely enough. it will go still better two days hence, if you play it frequently during that time, slowly, and become quite accustomed to it. in addition, you will practise industriously every thing which we have gone through, especially the first variation; but you must always do it with interest, and never with weariness. of course you will practise _without notes_ all the little exercises for the touch, and for the fourth and fifth fingers, and the cadences. _third lesson._ other little exercises; trills, scales with shading for one hand alone and for both together; the skipping basses, &c. we will begin to-day with the bass part of the second variation. you observe that often there are even eighth notes in the treble, while in the bass there are even triplet eighth notes. in order to play these properly together, even with only mechanical correctness, it is necessary that the left hand shall acquire a perfectly free and independent movement, and shall bring out the bass with perfect ease. you must pay special attention to any weak notes, and accustom yourself not to give the last triplet, in each bar, and the last note of this triplet, too hurriedly, too sharply, or with too little tone. notice how much difficulty this equal playing of the triplets occasions to the right hand, which moves in even eighth notes. while you play the left hand, i will play the right: you must listen as little as possible to my playing, and preserve your own independence. you must learn to play this variation entirely by yourself with both hands together; but we must not be too much in a hurry about it, and must give time to it. all restless urging, all hurry, leads to inaccuracies in playing. you have learned enough for to-day; but you may play the other variations, with the whole finale, straight through, that you may not get into the habit of stopping at the difficult passages which you have already learned. _fourth lesson._ new exercises for striking stretches, and for the extension of the hand and fingers; but this must be done prudently, that the sound touch, which is always of the first importance, shall not be endangered. besides this, the repetition of the exercises learned in the preceding lessons; but all to be played with a certain shading and delicacy. we will to-day begin at the beginning, with the introduction. i will now make amends for my want of regularity, and show you that i can begin at the beginning, like other people; but all in good time. to-day, in those portions of which you have acquired a mastery, we will give particular attention to the expression, and to the correct use of the pedal. if what i suggest to you with regard to the shading at any place does not entirely correspond to your understanding of the piece, or to your feeling, you must at once express your difference of opinion, and ask me for the reason of my view. you, perhaps, do not like to play this place _crescendo_, but _diminuendo_. very well; only play it finely in your own way; it will also sound very well so. i proposed the _crescendo_ there, because the feeling grows more intense; perhaps, in the next lesson, you will acknowledge that i was right. this place i should play a very little slower, though without a striking _ritardando_; then a little faster here; do you think it ought to be played _crescendo_ or _diminuendo_? we must try in this variation to present nicely shaded little pictures. here you might use more energy and decision. this place you should play merely with a correct mechanical execution, but without special expression; for we require shadow, in order that the succeeding idea, eminently suggestive of the theme, shall be brought out with more brilliancy. in general, the whole must be made to sound natural, without musical pretension, and as if it were the production of the moment; and should not create a distorted, overdrawn effect, or exhibit modern affectation. each piece that i undertake to teach you will give me an opportunity to talk to you a great deal about the correct expression in playing, and about its innumerable beauties, shades, and delicacies; while i shall pay constant attention to the production of a beautiful singing tone. the next piece will be chopin's notturno in e flat; for your touch has already gained in fulness, and is now unobjectionable. this is the tyranny with regard to correct execution, which stupidity and folly have taxed me with having exercised towards my daughters. "expression must come of itself!" how cheap is this lazy subterfuge of the followers of routine, and of teachers wanting in talent! we see and hear a great many _virtuosos_, old and young, with and without talent, renowned and obscure. they either play in an entirely mechanical manner and with faulty and miserable touch, or else, which is less bearable, they strut with unendurable affectation and produce musical monstrosities. in order to conceal their indistinct mode of execution, they throw themselves upon the two pedals, and are guilty of inconceivable perversions. but let us proceed with your instruction. you already play your piece intelligently, with interest and enthusiasm, and without any of the modern, empty affectations. if any other passage should occur to you at the _fermata_ in the second part, which shall lead appropriately to the dominant, try it; and combine it, perhaps, with that which is written. you may make two passing shakes upon the four final sixteenth notes; but you must play them very distinctly and clearly, and the last one weaker than the first, in order to give it a delicate effect, as is done by singers. with light variations of this kind, it is allowable to introduce various ornaments, provided they are in good taste and nicely executed. the case is quite different in the performance of the compositions of beethoven, mozart, weber, and others, where reverence for the composer requires a stricter interpretation, although even this is sometimes carried to a point of exaggeration and pedantry. now try the first variation once more. that is better: you already play the skipping bass with more precision, more briskly and evenly. we begin to perceive the correct speaking tone in the bass, and a certain delicacy and freedom in the treble. you need not play both hands together in the second variation, which is the most difficult, until the next lesson. to-day you may first play the bass alone, while i play the treble; and afterwards we will change parts, and you can play the treble while i play the bass. but we will not go farther than the fourth variation. i have not much more to say about this piece. we will begin next a beautiful etude by moscheles, which i recommend highly to you, in order to strengthen and give facility to the fourth and fifth fingers: this may be your companion and friend during the next two or three months. mrs. solid. your very careful mode of instruction assures me that emily will acquire a mastery of these variations, and will learn to perform them finely. dominie. she will be able, after a week or two, to execute this piece with understanding and confidence, and to play it to her own satisfaction and that of others; while her awakened consciousness of its beauties and of her ability to interpret it will preserve her interest for it. the objection is quite untenable "that children lose their pleasure in a piece, if they are obliged to practise it until they know it." do people suppose that it gives more pleasure, when the teacher begins in a stupid, helpless way, and tries to make the pupil swallow several pieces at once, while he continually finds fault and worries them, than when the pupil is enabled to play a few short, well-sounding exercises, with perfect freedom and correctness, and to take delight in his success? or when afterwards, or perhaps at the same time, he is conscious that he can play one piece nicely and without bungling, while it is all accomplished in a quiet and pleasant manner? mrs. solid. do you pursue the same course with longer and more difficult pieces? dominie. certainly, on the same principle. mrs. solid. but, if you are so particular about every piece, and always take so much pains to improve the touch, it will be a long time before emily will be able to execute several long pieces and can learn other new ones beside. dominie. do you wish your daughter to learn to jingle on the piano, in order to become musical? or shall she grow more musical by learning to play finely? i am sure the latter is your wish, as it is mine: otherwise, you would be contented with an ordinary teacher. you must consider that, when she has made a beginning, by learning to play one piece thoroughly and quite correctly, the following pieces will be learned more and more quickly; for she will have acquired a dexterity in playing, as you may observe with yourself and with every one. to be able to drum off fifty pieces in an imperfect manner does not justify the expectation that the fifty-first piece will be learned more easily or better; but to attain a perfect mastery of four or five pieces gives a standard for the rest. in this way, and by mechanical studies, such as i have begun with emily, the greatest ease in reading at sight is gradually developed, in which all my pupils excel, when they have remained long enough under my instruction, and in which my daughters are pre-eminent. but for this it is necessary to continue to study single pieces, industriously and artistically, and with great exactness; for otherwise the practice of reading at sight, which often amounts to a passion, leads very soon to slovenliness in piano-playing and to more or less vulgar machine-music. mrs. solid. i am more and more convinced that a style of instruction which is illogical, intermittent, superficial, and without method, can lead to no good result, or at least to nothing satisfactory, even with extraordinary talents; and that the unsound and eccentric manifestations and caricatures of art, which cause the present false and deplorable condition of piano-playing, are the consequence of such a prevalent mode of instruction. chapter v. on the pedal. i have just returned exhausted and annihilated from a concert, where i have been hearing the piano pounded. two grand bravoura movements have been thundered off, with the pedal continually raised; and then were suddenly succeeded by a soft murmuring passage, during which the thirteen convulsed and quivering bass notes of the _fortissimo_ were all the time resounding. it was only by the aid of the concert programme that my tortured ears could arrive at the conclusion that this confusion of tones was meant to represent two pieces by döhler and thalberg. cruel fate that invented the pedal! i mean the pedal which raises the dampers on the piano. a grand acquisition, indeed, for modern times! good heavens! our piano performers must have lost their sense of hearing! what is all this growling and buzzing? alas, it is only the groaning of the wretched piano-forte, upon which one of the modern _virtuosos_, with a heavy beard and long hanging locks, whose hearing has deserted him, is blustering away on a bravoura piece, with the pedal incessantly raised,--with inward satisfaction and vain self-assertion! truly time brings into use a great deal that is far from beautiful: does, then, this raging piano revolutionist think it beautiful to bring the pedal into use at every bar? unhappy delusion. but enough of this serious jesting. hummel never used the pedal. he was an extremist; and, in his graceful, clear, elegant, neat, though not grand playing, often lost fine effects, which would have been produced by the correct and judicious use of the pedal; particularly on the instruments of stein, brodmann, conrad graff, and others then in use, which were usually lightly leathered, and had a thin, sharp tone. the use of the pedal, of course always allowing it to fall frequently with precision, was especially desirable in the upper treble, in cases where the changes of the harmony were not very frequent; for the tone of those instruments, although sweet and agreeable, had not much depth, and the action had but little strength and elasticity. but on our instruments, frequently too softly leathered, which have a full tone, and are so strong and penetrating, especially in the bass, it is enough to endanger one's sense of hearing to be subjected to such a senseless, incessant, ridiculous, deafening use of the pedal; frequently, moreover, combined with a hard, stiff touch, and an unsound, incorrect technique. a musical interpretation in any degree tolerable is out of the question. you cannot call that art, it cannot even be called manual labor: it is a freak of insanity! a few words to the better sort of players. the foot-piece to the right on the piano-forte raises the dampers, and in that way makes the tones resound and sing, and takes from them the dryness, shortness, and want of fulness, which is always the objection to the piano-forte, especially to those of the earlier construction. this is certainly an advantage; the more the tone of the piano-forte resembles singing, the more beautiful it is. but, in order not to injure the distinctness and detract from the clear phrasing of the performance, a very skilful and prudent use of the pedal is necessary in rapid changes of harmony, particularly in the middle and lower portion of the instrument. you all use the pedal too much and too often, especially on large, fine concert pianos of the new construction, which, with their heavy stringing, have in themselves a fuller, more vibrating tone; at least you do not let it fall frequently enough, and with precision. you must listen to what you are playing. you do not play for yourselves alone; frequently you play to hearers who are listening for the first time to the pieces you are performing. try a few passages without pedal,--for instance, those in which the changes of the harmony succeed each other rapidly, even in the highest treble,--and see what repose, what serene enjoyment, what refreshment is afforded, what delicate shading is brought out. or at first listen, and try to feel it in the playing of others; for your habit is so deeply rooted that you no longer know when and how often you use the pedal. chopin, that highly gifted, elegant, sensitive composer and performer, may serve as a model for you here. his widely dispersed, artistic harmonies, with the boldest and most striking suspensions, for which the fundamental bass is essential, certainly require the frequent use of the pedal for fine harmonic effect. but, if you examine and observe the minute, critical directions in his compositions, you can obtain from him complete instruction for the nice and correct use of the pedal. by way of episode to my sorrowful lecture on the pedal, we will take a walk through the streets some beautiful evening. what is it that we hear in almost every house? unquestionably it is piano-playing; but what playing! it is generally nothing but a continual confusion of different chords, without close, without pause; slovenly passages, screened by the raised pedal; varied by an empty, stiff, weak touch, relying upon the pedal for weight. we will escape into the next street. oh, horrors! what a thundering on this piano, which, by the way, is sadly out of tune! it is a grand--that is, a long, heavy--étude, with the most involved passages, and a peculiar style of composition, probably with the title "on the ocean," or "in hades," or "fancies of the insane;" pounded off with the pedal raised through the most marvellous changes of harmonies. finally, the strings snap, the pedal creaks and moans; conclusion,--_c_, _c_ sharp, _d_, _d_ sharp resound together through a few exhausted bars, and at last die away in the warm, soft, delicious air. universal applause from the open windows! but who is the frantic musician who is venting his rage or this piano? it is a parisian or other travelling composer, lately arrived with letters of recommendation, who has just been giving a little rehearsal of what we may expect to hear shortly in a concert at the "hôtel de schmerz." chapter vi. the soft-pedal sentiment. you exclaim: "what is that?--a sentiment for the soft pedal! a sentiment of any kind in our times! most of all, a musical sentiment! i have not heard of such a thing in a concert-room for a long time!" when the foot-piece to the left on the piano is pressed down, the key-board is thereby moved to the right; so that, in playing, the hammers strike only two of the three strings, in some pianos only one. in that way the tone is made weaker, thinner, but more singing and more tender. what follows from this? many performers, seized with a piano madness, play a grand bravoura piece, excite themselves fearfully, clatter up and down through seven octaves of runs, with the pedal constantly raised,--bang away, put the best piano out of tune in the first twenty bars,--snap the strings, knock the hammers off their bearings, perspire, stroke the hair out of their eyes, ogle the audience, and make love to themselves. suddenly they are seized with a sentiment! they come to a _piano_ or _pianissimo_, and, no longer content with one pedal, they take the soft pedal while the loud pedal is still resounding. oh, what languishing! what soft murmuring, and what a sweet tinkling of bells! what tenderness of feeling! what a soft-pedal sentiment! the ladies fall into tears, enraptured by the pale, long-haired young artist. i describe here the period of piano mania, which has just passed its crisis; a period which it is necessary to have lived through, in order to believe in the possibility of such follies. when, in the beginning of this century, the piano attained such conspicuous excellence and increased power, greater technical skill could not fail to be called out; but, after a few years, this degenerated into a heartless and worthless dexterity of the fingers, which was carried to the point of absurdity and resulted in intellectual death. instead of aiming to acquire, before all things, a beautiful, full tone on these rich-sounding instruments, which admit of so much and such delicate shading, essential to true excellence of performance, the object was only to increase mechanical facility, and to cultivate almost exclusively an immoderately powerful and unnatural touch, and to improve the fingering in order to make possible the execution of passages, roulades, finger-gymnastics, and stretches, which no one before had imagined or considered necessary. from this period dates the introduction of _virtuoso_ performances with their glittering tawdriness, without substance and without music, and of the frightful eccentricities in art, accompanied by immeasurable vanity and self-conceit,--the age of "finger-heroes." it is indeed a melancholy reflection, for all who retain their senses, that this charlatanry is made the solitary aim of numberless ignoble performers, sustained by the applause of teachers and composers equally base. it is sad to see how, engaged in artificial formalisms and in erroneous mechanical studies, players have forgotten the study of tone and of correct delivery, and that few teachers seek to improve either themselves or their pupils therein. otherwise they would see and understand that, on a good piano, such as are now to be found almost everywhere, it is possible with correct playing, founded on a right method, to play, without external aids, _forte_, _fortissimo_, _piano_, _pianissimo_,--in a word, with every degree of shading, and with at least formal expression; and that this style of playing, with the requisite mechanical skill, sounds far more pure, and is more satisfactory than when a feeling is affected through the crude, unskilful, and absurd use of the pedal, especially of the soft pedal of which we are now speaking. this affectation only gives one more proof of our unhealthy, stupid, and unmusical infancy in piano performances. a good-natured public, drummed up and brought together by patient persuasion and by urgent recommendations, of which _virtuosos_ can obtain an abundance (for the tormented cities which they have visited cannot otherwise get rid of them), attend these concerts and listen to dozens of such inexperienced piano-players. one plays exactly like another, with more or less faulty mechanical execution; and none of them are able, with all their thumping and caressing of the keys, to bring out from the instrument a broad, healthy, full, and beautiful tone, delicately shaded and distinct even to the softest _pp._ but, instead of this, they fall into a pedal sentiment; _i.e._, they play with outside pretension, and with intrinsic emptiness. you unworthy performers, who have so disgusted the artistic public with piano-playing that they will no longer listen to fine, intelligent, sensible artists, whose dignity does not permit them to force themselves into the concert-hall, or to drag people into it from the streets! you base mortals, who have exposed this beautiful art to shame! i implore you to abandon the concert platform, your battle-field! hack at the piano no longer! find positions on a railroad or in a factory. there you may perhaps make yourselves useful; while by the lessons you give (for it usually comes to that, after you have travelled all over the world) you will only ruin our young people, now growing up with promising talent for piano-playing, and will produce successors like yourselves, but not artists. i must whisper one thing more in your ear. i will say nothing about simple truthfulness, about tenderness and sincerity of feeling, or wholesome refinement, about poetry, inspiration, or truly impassioned playing. but, if your ears are not already too much blunted, you should be able to discover, at least in a very few minutes, on any instrument, unless it is of the worst sort, or has already been battered to pieces by you, how far you can carry the _pianissimo_ and _fortissimo_, and still preserve the tone within the limits of beauty and simplicity. you will thus be able to interpret a piece with at least superficial correctness, without mortally wounding a cultivated ear by exaggerations and by maltreatment of the instrument and its two pedals. this style of playing has nevertheless found its numerous defenders and admirers in our century, which has made every thing possible. this senseless enslavement and abuse of the piano has been said to be "all the rage;" a fine expression of our piano critics to justify insane stamping and soft-pedal sentimentality. how far what i have here said relates to our modern errors in singing, and how far it may be applied to them, i leave to the intelligence of my readers and to my explanations in subsequent chapters. to return to my theme: i have still one word on this subject for rational players. even they use the soft pedal too much and too often, and at unsuitable places; for instance, in the midst of a piece, without any preparatory pause; in melodies which require to be lightly executed; or in rapid passages which are to be played _piano_. this is especially to be noticed with players who are obliged to use instruments of a powerful tone and stiff, heavy action, on which it is difficult to insure a delicate shading in _piano_ and _forte_. for this reason, a sensible and experienced teacher, whose sole aim is the true and the beautiful, should make the attainment of an elastic touch and well-grounded style of playing an indispensable requirement. i prefer that the soft pedal should be used but seldom, and, if the pedal which raises the dampers is used at the same time, it must be only with the greatest nicety. the soft pedal may be used in an echo; but should be preceded by a slight pause, and then should be employed throughout the period, because the ear must accustom itself gradually to this tender, maidenly, sentimental tone. there must again be a slight pause before the transition to the usual more masculine tone, with the three strings. the soft pedal is, moreover, most effective in slow movements with full chords, which allow time to bring out the singing tone, in which consists the advantage of the stroke of the hammers on two strings alone. chapter vii. a musical tea-party at the house of john spriggins. i once more introduce my readers to the scenes of my active, musical life, with an invitation to accompany me to a musical tea-party. my object is, in a short and entertaining manner, to remove very common prejudices; to correct mistaken ideas; to reprove the followers of mere routine; to oppose to malicious cavilling the sound opinions of an experienced teacher; to scourge dogmatic narrow-mindedness; and in this way to advance my method of instruction. * * * * * dramatis personæ. john spriggins _(jovial and narrow-minded, a member of an ancient musical family)._ mrs. spriggins _(irritable, envious, and malicious)._ lizzie, _their daughter, 13, years old (lively and pert)._ shepard, _her piano-teacher (very laborious)._ dominie, _a piano-master (very stern)._ emma, _his daughter, a pianist (silent and musical)._ mrs. spriggins (_to dominie_). so this is your daughter who is to give a concert to-morrow? she is said to have less talent than your eldest daughter. with her, they say, nothing requires any labor. dominie. you must ask my eldest daughter herself about that. i have hitherto held the opinion that both of them played correctly, musically, and perhaps finely, and yet both differently: that is the triumph of a musical education. but this cheap comparative criticism is already too thoroughly worn out. pray what else have you on your mind? mrs. s. have you not yet sent your younger daughter to school? they say your eldest could neither read nor write at fourteen years of age. dominie. my daughters always have a private teacher in the house, in connection with whom i instruct them in music, in order that their literary education shall occupy fewer hours, and that they shall have time left for exercise in the open air to invigorate the body; while other children are exhausted with nine hours a day at schools and institutes, and are obliged to pay for this with the loss of their health and the joyousness of youth. mrs. s. it is very well known that your daughters are obliged to play the whole day long. dominie. and not all night too? you probably might explain their skill in that way. i am astonished that you have not heard that too, since you have picked up so many shocking stories about me and my daughters. mrs. s. (_dismisses the subject, and asks suddenly_). now just how old is your daughter emma? dominie. she is just sixteen years and seven weeks old. mrs. s. does she speak french? dominie. oui, elle parle français, and in musical tones, too,--a language which is understood all over the world. mrs. s. but she is so silent! does she like to play? dominie. you have given her no opportunity to speak, she is certainly not forth-putting. for the last two years she has taken great pleasure in playing. mrs. s. you acknowledge, then, that formerly you had to force her to it? dominie. in the earlier years of her natural development, as she was a stranger to vanity and other unworthy motives, she certainly played, or rather pursued her serious studies, chiefly from obedience and habit. does your daughter of thirteen years old always practise her exercises without being required to do so? does she like to go to school every day? does she always sew and knit without being reminded of it? mrs. s. (_interrupting_). oh, i see you are quite in love with your daughters! but they say you are terribly strict and cruel in the musical education of your children; and, in fact, always. dominie. do you suppose i do this from affection? or do you infer it, because they have proved artists, or because they look so blooming and healthy, or because they write such fine letters, or because they have not grown crooked over embroidery, or because they are so innocent, unaffected, and modest? or-mrs. s. (_irritably_). we will drop that subject. but i must give you one piece of good advice. do not make your daughter emma exert herself too much, as you have done with your eldest daughter. dominie. if that is so, mrs. spriggins, it seems to have agreed with her very well. mrs. s. (_vehemently_). but she would have been better-dominie. if she had not played at all? that i can't tell exactly, as i said yesterday. well, you are satisfied now with emma's state of health? mrs. s. it is of no use to advise such people as you. dominie. i have always devoted myself to my business as a teacher, and have daily taken counsel with myself about the education of my daughters, and of other pupils whom i have formed for artists; and, it must be acknowledged, i have done so with some ability. mrs. s. (_not attending to him, but turning to emma_). but does it not make your fingers ache to play such difficult music? dominie. only when her teacher raps her on the knuckles, and that i never do. (_emma looks at the parrot which is hanging in the parlor, and strokes the great bull-dog._) john spriggins (_entering with his daughter lizzie_). herr dominie, will you be so good as to hear our daughter lizzie play, and advise us whether to continue in the same course. music is, in fact, hereditary in our family. my wife played a little, too, in her youth, and i once played on the violin; but my teacher told me i had no talent for it, no ear, and no idea of time, and that i scraped too much. dominie. very curious! he must have been mistaken! john s. but i always was devotedly fond of music. my father and my grandfather, on our estate, often used to play the organ for the organist in church, and the tenants always knew when they were playing. my father used often to tell that story at table. ha, ha! it was very droll! dominie. curious! john s. well, to return to my violin. i gave it up after a year, because it seemed rather scratchy to me, too. dominie. curious! probably your ear and your taste had become more cultivated. john s. afterwards, when i accepted an office, my wife said to me, "my dear, what a pity it is about your violin." so i had it restrung, and took a teacher. it seems as if it were only yesterday. dominie (_casting down his eyes,--the servant brings ice_). that was very curious! john s. but the government horn-player thought he could not get on in duets with me. dominie. curious! so you were obliged to play only solos? but to return to your daughter. will you be good enough to play me something, miss lizzie? mrs. s. (_condescendingly, in a low voice_). she is a little timid and embarrassed at playing before your daughter emma. emma. you really need not be so. mrs. s. bring "les graces" by herz, and rosellen's "tremolo." lizzie. but, mamma, i have forgotten that piece by herz, and i have not learned the "tremolo" very well yet. that is always the way with me. mr. shepard says i may console myself: it was always the same with his other scholars. he says i shall finally make my way. but mr. shepard is so strict. are you very strict, herr dominie? mrs. s. why, my child, you have heard me say so before. herr dominie is the very strictest--but (_playfully_) he will not acknowledge it. dominie. there is one thing you must allow, mrs. spriggins,--that my pupils always take pleasure in my lessons; and that must be the case because their progress is evident and gives them delight, and every thing is developed in the most natural way. mrs. s. (_less sharply_). we won't discuss that; but how are your daughters able to play so many pieces to people, and moreover without notes, if they have not been obliged to practise all day long, and if you have not been very cruel with them, while my lizzie cannot play a single thing without bungling? dominie. allow me, madam, it must be the fault of mr. shep-mrs. s. no, no! you must excuse me, but we don't permit any reflections on our mr. shepard: he is very particular and unwearied. dominie. it does not depend entirely upon that, but-john s. upon my honor, it is marvellous to see how talented pupils always seem to flock to _you_. it is easy to teach such! ha, ha! you must not forget, however, that my grandfather played on the organ. now, lizzie, sit down and play something. (_she chooses a cavatina from "the pirates," with variations. the introduction begins with _e_ flat in unison. lizzie strikes _e_ in unison and the same in the bass, and exclaims: "there, mamma, didn't i tell you so? i don't remember it now." mr. shepard enters, steps up hastily, and puts her finger on _e_ flat._) shepard. pardon me, herr dominie, i will only set her going: it makes her a little confused to play before such connoisseurs; she loses her eyesight. don't you see, lizzie, there are three flats in the signature? john s. courage now! aha! lizzie can't get at the pedal, the bull-dog is lying over it. john, take him out. (_after the removal of the bull-dog, lizzie plays as far as the fourth bar, when she strikes _c_ sharp instead of _c_, and stops._) mrs. s. never mind, begin again. herr dominie is pleased to hear that: he has gone through it all with his own children. (_lizzie begins again at the beginning, and goes on to the eighth bar, where she sticks fast._) shepard. don't make me ashamed of you, lizzie. now begin once more: a week ago it went quite tolerably. (_lizzie begins once more, and plays or rather scrambles through it, as far as the eighteenth bar; but now it is all over with her, and she gets up._) dominie. skip the introduction, it is too difficult: begin at once on the theme. john s. (_to his wife_). we will go away and leave the gentlemen alone. by and by, gentlemen, we will talk about it further over a cup of tea. (_lizzie refuses to play._) dominie. mr. shepard, let lizzie play a few scales or some chords; a few finger exercises, or some easy dance without notes. shepard. she has nothing of that kind ready. you see i always take up one piece after another, and have each one played as well as i can; she repeats the difficult parts, i write the proper fingering over them, and am very particular that she does not use the wrong fingers. i have taken a great deal of pains, and quite worn myself out over the lessons. lizzie does the same, and practises her pieces two hours a day; but--but- (_lizzie goes away with emma._) dominie. mr. shepard, with the best intentions in the world, you will never accomplish your end. even if miss lizzie is only to play as an amateur, and is not intended for any thing higher, for which in fact she has not sufficient talent, you must pay some attention beforehand to the acquirement of a correct tone, and get rid of this robin-red-breast touch; and you must then endeavor, by scales and exercises of every kind, to give to her hands and fingers so much firmness, decision, and dexterity, that she can master her pieces, at least with a certain distinct tone and a tolerable touch. you are not less in error in the choice of her pieces, which are far too difficult,--a fault of most teachers, even with the most skilful pupils. the pieces which your pupils are to execute should be below their mechanical powers; for, otherwise, the struggle with difficulties robs the player of all confidence in the performance, and gives rise to stumbling, bungling, and hurry. the mechanical powers should be cultivated by studies and exercises, in preference to pieces, at least to those of certain famous composers, who do not write in a manner adapted to the piano; or who, at any rate, regard the music as of more importance than the player. this may apply even to beethoven, in the higher grade of composition; for his music is full of danger for the performer. the only course which can ever lead to a sure result, without wearying both pupil and parent, and without making piano-playing distasteful, is first to lay a foundation in mechanical power, and then to go on with the easier pieces by hünten and burgmüller. if you try to produce the mechanical dexterity essential for piano performance by the study of pieces, except with the most careful selection, you will waste a great deal of time and deprive the pupil of all pleasure and interest; and the young lizzie will be much more interested in the hope of a husband than in the satisfaction of performing a piece which will give pleasure to herself and her friends. there can be no success without gradual development and culture, without a plan, without consideration and reflection,--in fact, without a proper method. how can there be any good result, if the pupil has to try at the same time to play with a correct touch, with the proper fingering, in time, with proper phrasing, to move the fingers rightly, to gain familiarity with the notes, and to avoid the confusion between the treble and the bass notes,--and in fact has to struggle with every thing at once? and what vexations! what loss of time without success! (_shepard listened with attention, and a light seemed to dawn upon him._) (_dominie and shepard go in to tea._) mrs. s. well, gentlemen, have you come to any conclusion? is not lizzie a good pupil? she is obliged to practise two hours every day, however tired she may be. do you think we should continue in the same course, herr dominie? shepard. herr dominie has called my attention to some points which will be of use to me. dominie. only a few trifles. john s. after tea will not miss emma play to us? emma. the piano is very much out of tune, some of the keys stick, the action is too light, and the instrument generally is not calculated for the successful execution of any thing. john s. i beg your pardon: it was considered by everybody a very fine instrument when we bought it, sixteen years ago. we had a great bargain in it at the time, for we purchased it of a neighbor who had improved it very much by use. mr. shepard will confirm what i say, miss. (_emma bows her head thoughtfully, and looks at shepard suspiciously._) john s. my violin has very much improved during the last twenty years. on my honor, if lizzie were a boy, she should learn to play on the violin, to keep it in the family. ha, ha, ha! dominie. that would be curious! (_dominie wishes to take leave with his daughter._) mrs. s. (_condescendingly_). i hope you will come to see us again soon. the next time lizzie will play you rosellen's "tremolo;" and miss emma must play us a piece too. dominie. you are extremely kind! (_takes leave._) chapter viii. singing and singing-teachers. _(a letter to a young lady singer.)_ my dear miss ----,--you are endowed with an admirable gift for singing, and your agreeable though not naturally powerful voice has vivacity and youthful charm, as well as a fine tone: you also possess much talent in execution; yet you nevertheless share the lot of almost all your sisters in art, who, whether in vienna, paris, or italy, find only teachers who are rapidly helping to annihilate the opera throughout europe, and are ruling out of court the simple, noble, refined, and true art of singing. this modern, unnatural style of art, which merely aspires to superficial effects, and consists only in mannerisms, and which must ruin the voice in a short time, before it reaches its highest perfection, has already laid claim to you. it is scarcely possible to rescue your talent, unless, convinced that you have been falsely guided, you stop entirely for a time, and allow your voice to rest during several months, and then, by correct artistic studies, and with a voice never forced or strong, often indeed weak, you improve your method of attack by the use of much less and never audible breathing, and acquire a correct, quiet guidance of the tones. you must also make use of the voice in the middle register, and strengthen the good head-tones by skilfully lowering them; you must equalize the registers of the voice by a correct and varied use of the head-tones, and by diligent practice of _solfeggio_. you must restore the unnaturally extended registers to their proper limits; and you have still other points to reform. are you not aware that this frequent tremulousness of the voice, this immoderate forcing of its compass, by which the chest-register is made to interfere with the head-tones, this coquetting with the deep chest-tones, this affected, offensive, and almost inaudible nasal _pianissimo_, the aimless jerking out of single tones, and, in general, this whole false mode of vocal execution, must continually shock the natural sentiment of a cultivated, unprejudiced hearer, as well as of the composer and singing-teacher? what must be the effect on a voice in the middle register, when its extreme limits are forced in such a reckless manner, and when you expend as much breath for a few lines of a song as a correctly educated singer would require for a whole aria? how long will it be before your voice, already weakened, and almost always forced beyond the limits of beauty, shall degenerate into a hollow, dull, guttural tone, and even into that explosive or tremulous sound, which proclaims irremediable injury? is your beautiful voice and your talent to disappear like a meteor, as others have done? or do you hope that the soft air of italy will in time restore a voice once ruined? i fall into a rage when i think of the many beautiful voices which have been spoiled, and have dwindled away without leaving a trace during the last forty years; and i vent my overflowing heart in a brief notice of the many singing-teachers, whose rise and influence i have watched for twenty years past. the so-called singing-teachers whom we usually find, even in large cities and in musical institutions, i exempt from any special criticism, for they would not be able to understand my views. they permit soprano voices to sing scales in all the five vowels at once; begin with _c_ instead of _f_; allow a long holding of the notes, "in order to bring out the voice," until the poor victim rolls her eyes and grows dizzy. they talk only of the fine chest-tones which must be elicited, will have nothing to do with the head-tones, will not even listen to them, recognize them, or learn to distinguish them. their highest principle is: "fudge! we don't want any rubbish of teschner, miksch, and wieck. sing in your own plain way: what is the use of this murmuring without taking breath? for what do you have lungs if you are not to use them? come, try this aria: 'grâce,' 'grâce!' produce an effect! down on your knees!" there are again others who allow screaming,--"the more the better,"--in order to produce power and expression in the voice, and to make it serviceable for public performances. they may, indeed, require the singing of _solfeggio_, and prattle about the requisite equality of the tones; and they consequently make the pupil practise diligently and strongly on the two-lined _a_, _b_ flat, _b_, where kind nature does not at first place the voice, because she has reserved for herself the slow and careful development of it. as for the unfortunate gasping medium voices, which are still less docile, and which sigh in the throat, and after all can only speak, such teachers postpone the cultivation of these to the future, or else they exclaim in a satisfied way, "now we will sing at sight! hit the notes! let us have classical music!" of these, also, i forbear to speak. and as for the singing-teachers, whose business it is to educate the voice for "the opera of the future," i am really unable to write about them. in the first place, i know nothing about "the future," the unborn; and, in the second place, i have more than enough to do with the present. and now i come to those who honestly wish to teach better, and who in a measure do so. but even they are too pedantic: with prejudiced views, they pursue one-sided aims. without looking around to the right or to the left or forwards, and without daily learning, reflecting, and striving, they run in a groove, always ride their particular hobby, cut every thing after one pattern, and use up the time in secondary matters, in incredible trifles. for the formation of a fine tone, not a minute should be lost, particularly with lady singers, who are not strong, and usually cannot or ought not to sing more than twenty days in a month, and who surely ought to be allowed to use their time in a reasonable manner. moreover, these are the teachers whom it is most difficult to comprehend. though they use only seven tones, they are plunged in impenetrable mysteries, in incomprehensible knowledge and a multitude of so-called secrets, out of which, indeed, nothing can ever be brought to light. for this, however, they do not consider themselves to blame, not even their hobby-horses; but, as they say, "the higher powers." we will, for once, suppose that three-fourths of the measures which they are accustomed to employ in their treatment of the voice and of the individual are good and correct (the same is true of many piano-teachers); but the remaining fourth is sufficient to ruin the voice, or to prevent its proper development, and therefore nothing correct is to be gained. there are other teachers who never can get beyond the formation of the tone, and are lost in the pursuit of _perfection_,--that "terrestrial valley of tears." truly a beautiful country, but which is only to be found in paradise! others, instead of thinking, "i will try for the present to do better than others have done," so harass and torment the poor mortal voices with their aim at perfect equality and perfect beauty of tone, the result often is that every thing becomes unequal and far from beautiful. some teachers make their pupils so anxious and troubled that, owing to their close attention to the tone, and the breath, and the pronunciation, they sing their songs in an utterly wooden manner, and so in fact they, too, are lost in optimism and in tears; whereas, for singing, a happy confidence in the ability to succeed is essential. others pursue an opposite course, and are guilty of worse faults, as you will see if you look around. some of them have no standard of perfection, but use up the time in an exchange of ideas with their pupils, with mysterious and conceited "ifs" and "buts." they are very positive, but only within the narrow circle of their own ideas. they make no advance in a correct medium path. some allow pupils to practise only _staccato_, and others only _legato_, aiming thereby at nobody knows what. some allow them to sing too loud, others too feebly; some philosophize earnestly about beauty in the voice, and others grumble about unpleasantness in the same; some are enthusiastic about extraordinary talents, others fret about the want of talent; some have a passion for making all the sopranos sing alto, others do just the reverse; some prefer a shadowy, others a clear voice. they all rest their opinions upon the authority of some famous screaming-master who has written a singing-system. upon like authority, some cultivate chiefly the deep tones, because it is very fine, and "creates an effect," for soprano voices to be able suddenly to sing like men, or rather to growl, and because it is the fashion in paris. others, on the contrary, pride themselves upon the head-tones; but they are none of them willing to pay much attention to the medium voices: that is too critical and too delicate a matter, and requires too much trouble, for the modern art of singing. as a last resort, they bethink themselves of kind nature, and lay the blame upon her. well, i will say no more upon this point, but will proceed. have i not already, in my piano instructions, insisted on the importance of a gradual and careful use of every proper expedient to extend, strengthen, beautify, and preserve the voice? i am thought, however, to infringe upon the office of the singing-masters, who hold their position to be much more exalted than that of the poor piano-teacher. still, i must be allowed to repeat that voices are much more easily injured than fingers; and that broken, rigid voices are much worse than stiff, unmanageable fingers, unless, after all, they amount to the same thing. i demand of singing-teachers that they show themselves worthy of their position, and allow no more voices to go to destruction, and that they give us some satisfactory results. i believe in fact, in my homely simplicity, that the whole thing may be accomplished without any mystery, without trading in secrets or charlatanry; without the aid of modern anatomical improvement, or rather destruction, of the worn-out throat, through shortening or increasing the flexibility of the palate, through the removal of the unnecessary glands or by attempts to lengthen the vocal passage, or by remedying a great many other things in which nature has made a mistake, and on which special doctors for the voice, in paris and london, are now employed. we supply the want of all these by the following little rule:-three trifles are essential for a good piano or singing-teacher,- _the finest taste, the deepest feeling, the most delicate ear,_ and, in addition, the requisite knowledge, energy, and some practice. _voilà tout!_ i cannot devote myself to the treatment of the throat, for which i have neither time not fitness; and my lady singers are so busy with the formation of true tone, and in attention to the care and preservation of their voices, that they only wish to open their mouths for that object, and not for anatomical purposes. in piano-playing also, i require no cutting of the interdigital fold, no mechanical hand-support, no accelerator for the fingers or stretching machine; and not even the "finger-rack" invented and used, without my knowledge, by a famous pupil[a] of mine, for the proper raising of the third and fourth fingers. my dear young lady, if the creator has made the throat badly for singing, he alone is responsible. i cannot come to his assistance by destroying the throat with lunar caustic, and then reconstructing it. if the throat is really worn out, may it not perhaps be owing to the teacher, and to his mistaken management? nature does many things well, and before the introduction of this modern fashion of singing produced many beautiful voices: has she all at once become incapable of doing any thing right? we will, then, simply return to the _three trifles_ above-mentioned; and in these we will live and work "with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind." [a] reference is here made to robert schumann, who, in order to facilitate the use of the weaker fingers, employed a machine for raising the fingers artificially, which resulted in loss of power over them, and necessitated the abandonment of piano-playing.--_tr._ chapter ix. thoughts on singing. our vocal composers, followed by many singing-teachers and singing institutions, have almost banished from music the true art of singing; or, at least, have introduced an unnatural, faulty, and always disagreeable mode of delivery, by which the voice has been destroyed, even before it has attained its full development. the consideration of this fact induces me to communicate some portions from my journal, and to unite with them a few opinions of the noted singing-master, teschner, of berlin. * * * * * must we again and again explain to german composers that, though we do not require them to compose in italian, they ought, at least, to learn to write in german in a manner suited for singing? otherwise, in their amazing ignorance and infatuation, they will wear out the powers of opera singers, and torture the public, apparently without a suspicion that it is possible to write both grand and light operas with true, characteristic german thoroughness. even german opera requires a constant attention to the right use of the voice, and a methodical, effective mode of singing. it tolerates no murderous attacks on single male and female voices, or on the full opera company; it is opposed to that eager searching after superficial effect, which every sincere friend of the opera must lament. is it, then, so difficult to obtain the requisite knowledge of the human voice, and to study the scores of gluck, haydn, mozart, rossini, bellini, and donizetti with a special regard to this? do our vocal composers make too great a sacrifice to their creative genius in making a study of those things which are essential? you consider it mortifying to inquire of those who understand singing, and you are sensitive about any disturbance of your vain over-estimate of your own powers; but you are not ashamed to cause the destruction of man's noblest gift,--the human voice! if taste, feeling, and a fine ear are, and always must be, the chief requirements in composing for the great public, i ask you how you can lay claim to these three trifles, when you constantly violate them? composer. if mrs. n. had executed my aria to-day in as earnest and masterly a style, and with as agreeable a voice, as she did that of rossini yesterday, she would have given as much satisfaction; for it is much more interesting and expressive both musically and harmonically, and written with more dramatic effect. singer. you make a mistake, and you always will do so, as long as you consider the study of the voice as of secondary importance, or, in fact, pay no attention whatever to it. the latter aria, which is composed with a regard to the voice, and to the employment of its most agreeable tones, puts me into a comfortable mood, and gives me a feeling of success; yours, on the contrary, into one of dissatisfaction and anticipation of failure. of what importance is the musical value of a composition, if it can only be sung with doubtful success, and if the voice is obliged to struggle with it, instead of having it under control? you attach less importance to the free, agreeable exercise of the voice than does the unanimous public. i do not wish to excite compassion, but to give pleasure by a beautifully developed style of singing. you pay some attention to adaptability to the piano or the violin: why are you usually regardless of fitness for the voice? critics have often asked, why does jenny lind sing so coolly? why does she not sing grand, passionate parts? why does she not select for her performances some of the later german or even italian operas? why does she always sing amina, lucia, norma, susanna, &c.? in reply to these and similar questions, i will ask, why does she wish always to remain jenny lind? why does she endeavor to preserve her voice as long as possible? why does she select operas in which she may use her pure, artistic, refined mode of singing, which permits no mannerism, no hypocritical sentiment, and which possesses an ideal beauty? why does she choose operas in which she can give the most perfect possible image of her own personality? why operas in which she may allow the marvellous union of her powers of song to shine conspicuously, without doing violence to her voice and forcing its tones, or casting doubt upon her lofty, noble, and beautiful art? why does she first regard the singing, and only afterwards the music, or both united? this is the answer to the same questions which are likewise asked about henrietta sontag and all great singers. even the passionate schröder-devrient seldom made an exception to this rule, although she was not independent of the theatres. these questions should be an urgent warning to our young female singers not to sacrifice themselves to any of the modern screaming operas, unsuited for singing; but to preserve and watch over their voices, and to guard them from immoderate, continued, and often inartistic exertion; in fact, to sing always in the voice-register with which nature has endowed them, and never to shriek; to renounce the present, fashionable, so-called "singing effects," and the modern scene-screaming, as jenny lind and henrietta sontag have always done. then their voices would remain useful for the opera, as was formerly the case, from ten to twenty years; and they would not have to mourn, as is too common, after a very short time, a feeble, broken voice and departed health. let jenny lind and henrietta sontag be placed as the finest models before our young, gifted, ambitious singers. they are to be regarded as miraculous phenomena; especially in our times, when the modern style of singing has, for reasons difficult to justify, so widely deviated from the old school which was so fruitful in brilliant results,--that of pistocchi, porpora, and bernacchi. what could show more clearly the destructiveness of our present opera style than the sublime beauty of their singing, combined with their noble, refined, sound voices, such as may perhaps still be found among you? * * * * * the managers of our theatres are in want of tenor singers who can act. they should consider that tenors who have any voices left have never learned to act, and tenors who are able to act no longer have any voices; because, as a rule, they either have studied too little, or have studied erroneously. unless the voice has received a correct and fine culture, the german comic operas lead immediately to destruction of the voice, especially of the sensitive, easily injured german tenor voice. here i take occasion to remark upon the universal prejudice, that "a tenor ought to develop the chest-tones as far as possible, that they are the finest." in tenors, with very few exceptions, this mistaken treatment has been speedily followed by the loss both of voice and health. nicely shaded singing, from _piano_ onwards, is thereby rendered impossible; and tones which are always forced must remain unpleasant, even although powers thus laboriously gained may sometimes have a fine effect in the opera. a tenor who wishes to preserve his voice and not to scream in the upper tones, who desires always to have a _piano_ at command and to possess the necessary shading and lightness as well as elegance and flexibility, should cultivate the _falsetto_, and endeavor to bring it down as far as possible into the chest-register. this is as indispensable as is the use of the head-tones for the soprano. when the _falsetto_ has too striking a resemblance to the chest-voice, and is even inferior to it in power, it is the result of want of perseverance and prudence in its cultivation. it ought to be almost imperceptibly connected with the chest-register by the introduction of the mixed tones. * * * * * we shall probably soon be called upon to read an "address of young female singers to the composers of germany," as follows: "freedom of thought! freedom in composition! freedom in the opera! but no annihilation of the throat! you are hereby notified that we protest against all operas which are repugnant to the true art of singing; for it is not in your power to compensate us for the loss of our voices, although it may be possible for you, after using up our talent as quickly as possible, to look around for others, with whom you can do the same. first learn to understand singing, or, rather, first learn to sing, as your predecessors have done, and as italian composers still do, and then we will talk with you again." * * * * * "what a pedantic outcry about german want of adaptability for singing! pray where is there the most singing?" it is, i agree, in germany. "is not singing taught in the public schools? and consider, too, the innumerable singing clubs, singing societies, and singing institutions!" that is just the misfortune which requires a thorough investigation. how many promising voices do these institutions annually follow to the grave? who is it who sing in the schools? boys and girls from thirteen to fifteen years old. but boys ought not to be allowed to sing while the voice is changing; and girls, also from physical reasons, ought not to sing at all at that age. and what kind of instructors teach singing here? our epistolary and over-wise age overwhelms our superintendents and corporations with innumerable petitions and proposals; but no true friend of humanity, of music, and of singing, has yet been found to enlighten these authorities, and to prove to them that the most beautiful voices and finest talents are killed in the germ by these unsuitable so-called singing-lessons, especially in the public schools. girls' voices may be carefully awakened, and skilfully practised, and made flexible and musical; but they should be used only in _mezzo-voce_, and only until the period of their development, or up to the thirteenth year, or a few months sooner or later. this ought also to be done with great experience, delicacy, practical knowledge and circumspection. but where are we to find suitable singing-professors, and who is to pay them a sufficient salary? therefore, away with this erroneous instruction of children in singing! away with this abortion of philanthropy and the musical folly of this extravagant age! can such a premature, unrefined, faulty screaming of children, or croaking in their throats, without artistic cultivation and guidance, compensate for the later inevitable hoarseness and loss of voice, and for the destruction of the organs of singing? the tenors who belong to these singing societies and institutions force out and sacrifice their uncultured voices, and scream with throat, palate, and nasal tones, in the execution of four-part songs by this or that famous composer, which are far from beautiful, and which serve only to ruin the voice. who was the lady who sang the solo in yonder singing academy? that girl, a year ago, had a fresh, beautiful, sonorous voice; but, although she is only twenty years old, it already begins to fail her, and she screws and forces it, by the help of the chest-tones, up to the two-lined _a_, without any thing having ever been done for the adjustment of the voice-registers and for the use of the head-tones, and without proper direction from a competent superintendent. instead of this, he was continually exclaiming: "loud! forcibly! _con espressione!_" while even the street boys in italy sing clearly, and often with great ability, their national songs, so well suited to the voice, and in their most beautiful language, our northern voices, which are obliged to contend with the great difficulties of the german language, are sacrificed in the most cold-blooded and self-satisfied manner in the schools and singing societies, while all artistic preparation, by which alone the voice may be preserved and cultivated, is neglected. who are at the head of these institutions and societies? musicians it is true; but they are strangers to any special education in singing, or are not skilful singing-teachers, who understand how to combine methodical cultivation of the voice with practical execution. their entire instruction consists, at most, in hitting the notes and keeping time. these musicians say: "whoever joins my society must know how to sing!" what does that mean? where are they to learn it? and, even when you have succeeded in obtaining for your academy a few imprudent but well-taught singers, does not the preservation of their voices then require the greatest care and watchfulness? is that in your power? have you the requisite knowledge for it? are not these few well-educated voices obliged to sing by the side of singers who have been taught in a wrong manner, and who have no pure, correct intonation? then what do these societies amount to? do they improve or destroy the voice? they make the members musical. a fine consolation for the loss of the voice! they teach them to hit the notes and to keep time. a great comfort after the voice has been destroyed by false culture! * * * * * a singing-teacher who has no firm, decided principle, who is constantly wavering backwards and forwards, and who frequently leads others into error by his untenable opinions; who cannot quickly discern the special talent and capacity of his pupils, or discover the proper means to get rid of what is false or wrong, and adopt the speediest road to success, without any one-sided theories of perfection; who mistrusts and blames, worries, offends, and depresses, instead of encouraging; who is always dissatisfied instead of cordially acknowledging what is good in the pupil; who at one time rides a high horse instead of kindly offering a helping hand, and at another time praises as extravagantly as he before has blamed, and kills time in such ways as these,--he may be an encyclopædia of knowledge, but his success will always fall short of his hopes. firmness, decision, energy, and a delicate, quick perception; the art not to say too much or too little, and to be quite clear in his own mind, and with constant considerate kindness to increase the courage and confidence of his pupils,--these are requisite above all things for a singing-master as well as for a piano-teacher. * * * * * "my singers are to be educated for the public, for the stage, and must therefore sing loud, study hard, force their execution, and make use of a great deal of breath. how else will they be able to produce an effect?" _answer._ what, then, is the effect of your culture? i know of none, except that they at first are applauded, because they are young and pretty, and are novelties; because they have good voices, and the benevolent public wishes to encourage them; and then they disappear in a year or two without leaving any trace. "the singing-teacher can succeed in cultivating not more than one good voice in twenty, with any noteworthy result. hence the decadence of the art of singing." _answer._ unless some unusual disturbance or sickness occur, all voices improve till the twenty-fourth year. when this is not the case, it is to be attributed only to the singing-teacher. "many voices acquire a sharp tone, which is the precursor of decay." _answer._ all voices are, and will remain, more or less tender, if their culture is correct. "only jenny lind and henrietta sontag were allowed by the public to give out their voices naturally and lightly without straining them, and to sing _piano_ and _pianissimo_, and their celebrity is a justification of this privilege." _answer._ but how would they have obtained their celebrity, if this were not the true, correct, and pure mode of singing? "our singers also try the _piano_ and _pianissimo_; but they can produce no effect on their audiences by it, as you may see every day." _answer._ good heavens! i should think so! with such a _piano_, with strained voices, faulty attack, and the use of too much breath,--a _piano_ which only gurgles in the throat, or deeper! that i do not mean: i must refer you again to the three trifles mentioned in my eighth chapter. "but some voices have no _piano_, and many singers do not take the right course to acquire it." _answer._ what a wide-spread, groundless excuse! here we may see the error of our times. people look for the fault outside of themselves, and not in themselves. the inventive power of the age is here truly astonishing! when, owing to false management, the voice soon degenerates instead of improving with time, it is the consequence of a faulty formation of the throat, and of the neglect of london throat brushes! if such badly educated voices can no longer produce a _piano_, it is owing to the unskilfulness of nature, and to the false construction of the necessary organs! if the _piano_ is only a wheeze, the reason is found in the deficiency of palate, and excess of muscles! if several times in the month, the worn out, weary voice can only groan and sigh, or cannot emit a sound, it is the result of a change in the weather, or other meteorological conditions! if we complain of unpleasant, shrieking tones, occasioned by the mouth being too widely stretched, then "the rays of sound take an oblique, instead of a direct course"! if the poor, strained medium voice, even with the help of a great deal of breath, can only produce dull, hollow, veiled, and unpleasant tones, that is said to be a necessary crisis, of which cruel nature requires a great many in the course of her development of the voice! finally, if from long and forced holding of the chest-tones, they are changed into noises like the bellowing of calves and the quacking of ducks, and the instructor finally perceives it, then again we have a crisis! and, alas! no one thinks of "the three trifles." * * * * * what occasions the want of success of our singing-teachers, many of whom are musical, possess a delicate ear, fine culture and feeling, have studied systems of singing, and exert themselves zealously to teach rightly? they fail in the culture of the tone, which is not to be learned from books or by one's self, but only from verbal communication. to learn to produce a clear tone, with a light, free, natural attack; to understand how to draw forth the sound with the use of no unnecessary breath, and to cause the sound to strike against the roof of the mouth above the upper row of teeth; to improve the pronunciation; to adjust the registers,--these, with many other things, may seem very easy; but to teach them all in the shortest time, without wearing out the voice and without falling into errors; to persevere in teaching to the end, even if the pupil already sings correctly; to know what is still wanting and how it is to be attained,--all these one must acquire by long and constant experience. when schröder-devrient came from vienna to dresden, a young but already celebrated singer, though at that time wanting in the proper foundation for singing, she was not a little surprised when miksch called her attention to this deficiency. she devoted herself thoroughly to the primary formation of the tone under the instruction of miksch, and must still remember the old master, and his extraordinary practice in this particular. miksch learned it from caselli, a pupil of bernacchi. he had just sung as a young tenor, with great applause, in a concert, and introduced himself to caselli, who was present, expecting to receive his approbation; but the latter, instead of commending, assured him frankly that his mode of singing was false, and that with such misuse his voice would succumb within a year, unless he adopted a correct culture of tone. after much hard struggle, the young miksch renounced all further public applause, and studied the formation of tone assiduously and perseveringly with caselli, after having previously allowed his over-strained voice a time for rest. if a singing-teacher has, by chance, met with a docile pupil, possessed of a voice of unusual beauty, it frequently happens that the studies are not pursued with sufficient perseverance; and, perhaps, are continued only for a few weeks or months, instead of allowing a year or more, according to circumstances. richard wagner agrees with me, when he says, "why, then, write operas to be sung, when we no longer have either male or female singers?" * * * * * since modern progress has come to regard "the three trifles" as belonging entirely to the past, and in their place has proclaimed, "boldness, spirit, power," two evil spirits have had rule: they go hand in hand, ruin the voice, wound the cultivated ear, and provide for us--only empty opera houses. one of these evils has been frequently alluded to by me. it is "the expenditure of a great deal too much breath." the finest voices are obliged to practise with full breath until they shriek, and the result is mere sobbing, and the heavy drawing of the breath, just at the time when the tone should still be heard. even if every thing else could be right, in such a culture of the tone, which must very shortly relax the muscles of the voice, that one thing, in itself, would be sufficient to destroy all promise of success. the second evil endangers even the male voice, which is able to endure much ill-treatment; while the female voice is quickly forced by it into a piercing shrillness, or is driven back into the throat, soon to be entirely exhausted, or is, at least, prevented from attaining a natural, fine development. this second evil is the reckless and destructive straining of single tones to their extreme limits, even to perfect exhaustion. the poor singer urges and squeezes out the voice, and quivers to the innermost marrow, in order that the two requirements of "boldness" and "power" may be satisfied. but the "spirit" is still wanting, which should be shown in a light and well-shaded delivery. the effect of extreme shading, however, is accomplished in a single "romanza." the unfortunate, misdirected singer, who must aim at effect, lays out so much force on single tones, or even on whole lines, and that, too, in the best register of his voice (the other registers do not permit this), that the succeeding tones are forced to retire powerless into the throat; and the beautiful, fresh, youthful tenor or bass voice concludes with exhausted groaning and mere speaking tones. the "romanza" is now at an end, and certainly "boldness, spirit, and power" have worked in union. the task is executed the better, because a rude accompaniment has probably sustained the singer in a most striking manner, and has completed the total effect. by such management, to which i must emphatically add the continual holding of the tones, even in the _forte_, voices are expected "to come out," to be developed, inspired, and made beautiful. what healthy ear can endure such enormities in tone formation, such tortures in singing? these, then, are the modern contributions for the embellishment of art! a curse on these evil spirits! if my feeble pen shall assist in bringing such singing-teachers to their senses, and shall help to save only a few of our fine voices, i shall consider my mission fulfilled, and the aim of this book, so far as it concerns singing, accomplished. * * * * * i have heretofore combated many prejudices, both in earnest and in sport, successfully and unsuccessfully; but one i find very obstinate,--it has pursued me incessantly for years. a piano-player, with a rigid, strained, and vicious touch, proceeding from the arm, may play a great deal, but his playing is thoroughly vulgar and without beauty. he feels this himself, and the playing of my pupils pleases him better. he wishes me to change his style to their better manner; but he still continues to pound, to bang, to exaggerate, and to play in his own way, and only wishes his style to be improved, and his power of execution to be increased. if a performer of this sort is not much more than twenty years of age, something may yet be done for the improvement of his touch, and consequently of his style of playing; but this is only possible by laying aside all his accustomed pieces of music, and by diligently practising, daily, small easy exercises, which must be played delicately, with loose fingers, and without allowing the arm to give the slightest assistance; otherwise, all labor will be thrown away upon him. how else can you begin, except by laying a proper foundation for a better style? i have frequently urged this principle both by speech and in writing; but the difficulty always returns, and especially in the cultivation of female singers. a girl of eighteen comes to me: she has heard of the excellent cultivation of my lady singers, and wishes to obtain the same for herself. in order that i may hear her voice, she selects the "erlkönig," by schubert, that perilous piece, which is apt to lead even highly cultivated singers into frightful atrocities. heavens! what must i hear? with the remains of a fine, youthful voice, whose registers are already broken up and disconnected, she shrieks out the "erlkönig," between sobs and groans, with screwed-up chest-tones, and many modern improprieties, but nevertheless with dramatic talent. the piercing voice, forced to its utmost, fills me with horror; but also with pity for such a glorious endowment, and such an unnatural development. at the conclusion, her voice succumbed to the effort, and she could only groan hoarsely, and wheeze without emitting a sound. she has, however, frequently produced great effect in society, and drawn tears with this performance: it is her favorite piece. let us abandon this singing for parties, this melancholy _dilettantismus_, everywhere so obtrusive! the girl is only eighteen years old: is she beyond salvation? i endeavor to build her voice up again, gradually, by gentle practice. she succeeds very well in it, and after six lessons her natural docility arouses hope. the head-tones again make their appearance, and the practice of _solfeggio_ brings out once more the stifled voice which had been forced back into the throat by senseless exertions; a better attack begins to be developed, and the chest-register returns to its natural limits. she now declared, with her mother's approval, that she really would continue to study in this way, but she could not give up the performance of her effective and spirited conception of the "erlkönig." she came a few times more: i could perceive that the good structure was tottering. after a few months, she had entirely sacrificed her voice to this single "erlkönig." in such tender years, one such idol is sufficient. what a price for an "erlkönig"! the old, experienced singing-teacher, miksch, of dresden (with the exception of rossini, the last famous champion of the old school), has often warned me that radical amendment is seldom possible with such over-strained and broken voices, which already are obliged to struggle with enfeebled muscles, even although youth may excite great and decided hopes. there is also another difficulty: that one of these strong, over-strained voices must hereafter be used with much less strength, if we wish to cultivate a correct tone; and it is impossible to tell whether the chest-tones, when they are restored to their true limit, will ever come out again as powerful and at the same time as beautiful. let no musician, however talented and cultivated he may be, ever adopt the teaching of singing, unless he can combine with firmness of character great patience, perseverance, and disinterestedness; otherwise, he will experience very little pleasure and very little gratitude. even if the "erlkönig" does not stand in the way, every voice presents new and peculiar difficulties. _a few words addressed to singing-teachers on the accompaniment of etudes, exercises, scales, &c._ it is common for teachers to play their accompaniments as furiously as if they had to enter into a struggle for life and death with their singers. at the beginning of the lesson, the lady singer ought to commence quite _piano_, at _f_ in the one-lined octave, and to sing up and down from there through five or six notes, without any expenditure of breath, and should guide and bring out her voice by a gentle practice of _solfeggio_; and yet you bang, and pound on the keys, as if you had to accompany drums and trumpets. do you not perceive that in this way you induce your pupils to strain and force their voices, and that you mislead them into a false method? in such a noise, and while you are making such a monstrous expenditure of strength, to which you add a sharp, uneasy touch, and a frequent spreading of the chords, how can you watch the delicate movements of the singer's throat? is it necessary for me to explain how such a rude accompaniment must interfere with the effort to sing firmly and delicately? are you not aware that a light and agreeable, but at the same time firm and decided, accompaniment encourages and sustains the singer, and also assists and inspires her? you ought, in every way, to seek to cultivate in your pupil the feeling for the right, the true, and the beautiful; but what is the girl of eighteen to think of _your_ culture and _your_ sentiment, if you pound the keys as if you were one of the "piano-furies"? while this is your mode of accompanying the études, how then do you accompany the aria, the song? if, for instance, the pupil is singing tenderly, and wishes to bring out an artistic, delicate shading, you take advantage of that occasion to make yourself heard, and to annoy the singer and the audience with your rough shading. a singing-teacher who does not take pains to acquire a good, delicate touch, and who neglects to pay constant attention to it, is wanting in the first requirement; and this is closely connected with the want of "the three trifles." chapter x. visit at mrs. n.'s. mrs. n. _her daughter_ fatima, _eighteen years old_. an aunt. dominie. _towards the end of the evening, the piano-teacher_, mr. feeble. dominie (_rather anxiously to fatima_). will you do me the favor, miss, to play something on the piano? your aunt has told me a great deal about your playing. fatima (_smiling graciously_). but, really, the piano is out of tune,--so my teacher says. dominie. but does not your teacher attend to having your piano always kept in tune? fatima. mamma says it is too expensive to have it tuned so often; it gets out of tune again so quickly. it is an old, small-legged piano, as you see: mamma is always saying, when i am older i shall have a chickering. the tuner comes regularly once in three months; the time is not yet up. dominie. but is your teacher satisfied with the tuning of your piano? fatima. well, he has got used to it. it is the same with the other instruments he teaches on. mrs. n. now, pet, play us something. mr. dominie likes music; he is a judge of it; his daughters play too. fatima. but what shall i play, mamma? mrs. n. you have got heaps of notes there. mr. dominie, pray select something. dominie. but i don't know which pieces miss fatima can master, and which she has now at her fingers' ends. aunt. pray, mr. dominie, choose any thing. they are all fine pieces. it makes no difference to her which she plays. dominie. but do you play that whole heap? aunt. she has played it all. she has played ever since she was ten years old, and she has a very good teacher. he taught here when my sister used to accompany her lover's solos on the flute. oh, those were charming musical evenings! and the teacher often played the guitar with them _extempore_. it was just like a concert. dominie. indeed! that must have been very fine. now, miss, i beg-fatima. but, mamma, just say what i shall play. dominie. is not your teacher here this evening? he will know best. aunt (_whispers to dominie_). he is busy this evening, composing some grand bravoura variations, which are to be dedicated to fatima on her eighteenth birthday, the day after to-morrow. you must come to see us on that day. fatima will play them at sight. mrs. n. fatima, don't hold back any longer. play "the huguenots" by thalberg: that's a very fine piece. dominie. pray do! i have not heard it since i heard thalberg play it. aunt (_to dominie_). don't you make your daughters play it then? oh, that magnificent choral! that brings tears to my eyes! but the dear child always takes it too fast: her fingers run away with her. mrs. n. here it is. please turn round so that you can see her hands, mr. dominie. you are such a famous teacher, perhaps you can make some suggestions. (_i was expected only to admire._) dominie. i don't like to disturb her freedom in playing; but i will turn round, if you say so. (_fatima scurries through the piece excitedly, and plays in a bold way,--not, however, without ability, but with a feeble touch, without proper fingering, without tone, without time; and gets over the first two pages, with her foot always on the pedal, in such a senseless, indistinct manner that dominie, in despair, was forced to interrupt with the remark, "but you might take the _tempo_ a little more quietly."_) (_fatima leans back amazed, and stops playing, looking at her mother with a contemptuous expression._) aunt. it is owing to her great execution, and then, too, her youthful enthusiasm. don't you like her natural expression? fatima. my teacher always makes me play it so. it is in that way that i have learned to play so much at sight. dominie. but don't you study your pieces? fatima. for the last four years i have played only at sight, so that now i can get on anywhere in the musical clubs. that is what mamma likes. dominie. but do you not play any scales and études? do you not practise any exercises? aunt. she has not done those things for the last four years. my sister thinks it is rather a hindrance, and is too pedantic. her teacher thinks so too, and he teaches her the fine concert pieces of döhler, liszt, dreyschock, willmer, and thalberg. she learns execution by these. she has gone through all thalberg's music; and we have sent to leipzig for willmer's "pompa di festa." dominie. all this shows great enthusiasm, but really a little too much hot haste. (_dominie wishes to continue the conversation, in order to escape the unpleasant necessity of "turning round to the piano."_) mrs. n. (_interrupts_). my child, just begin again at the beginning, and let us enjoy the whole of "the huguenots." mr. dominie likes it. (_fatima consents, and hurries through the whole potpourri with a confident, conceited air, to the great despair of dominie. at the choral, the aunt taps him on the shoulder, and whispers._) aunt. is not that touching? it is a little too fast, you will agree; but then the execution! has not the girl a great deal of talent? just hear! * * * * * but what did dominie say after the performance was over? he only bowed stiffly, and what he said to himself will always remain a secret. he only _felt_. they go in to supper. all who submitted to hearing the daughter perform on the badly tuned piano, which was at least a tone and a half too low, were invited to supper and handsomely treated. the wine was better than the piano. presently the teacher, mr. feeble, having finished his birthday bravoura composition, appeared and was introduced. fatima whispered to him, giggling, "i played the whole of 'the huguenots;' it went splendidly." mr. feeble simpered. dominie and he talked together, unheard, at the end of the table. * * * * * dominie. the young lady has talent, mr. feeble. mr. feeble. indeed she has! dominie. how is it, mr. feeble, that she does not combine serious studies with her playing? mr. feeble. oh! i used to make her play exercises by a.e. mueller, and some etudes of czerny's, and sometimes a few scales. but the child was so volatile, and had so little perseverance, and was so quick at learning every thing! and then her mother wanted her to play modern pieces for parties, and we had to busy ourselves with those. but our method has borne good fruit, as you can see. is not it so? dominie. do you not think, with firmness and decision, you could have set mrs. n. on the right track? could not you cultivate the mechanical powers of your pupil, and combine an understanding of the musical construction of the piece, with her "playing at sight"? the young lady, not to speak of other faults, has no tone on the piano. mr. feeble. she can use the pedal for that, and, when she is older, she will acquire more strength; her touch is a little too weak at present. and, besides, she is not to play in public for money, but only in company, and because it is the fashion. indeed, my dear sir, if i insisted on scales and exercises, i should have very few lessons in this city. i have a wife and children to support, and my old father, the former organist, is dependent upon me. you can do all this with your own children; but think how much time it requires to _study_ the music! (_the company bid each other "good-night."_) fatima (_flippantly to dominie_). i believe your daughter emma is a very good player; but they say she has not so much talent as your eldest daughter. dominie. indeed! who told you that? chapter xi. secrets. _(a discourse on piano-playing, delivered to an audience of lady pupils.)_ ladies,--as i am about to make a journey of a few weeks with my daughters, we will suspend for a short time our musical meetings. on my return, you will resume them with fresh interest. we will then not only play and sing together, but occasionally talk upon kindred subjects. your friends will be made welcome, provided they are really interested in simple and noble musical performances, which make no attempt at display. we will exclude from our circle malicious criticism and idle curiosity: we require the accompaniment of the violin and 'cello, but not of those two disturbing elements. to-day i wish to propound a query in regard to piano-playing, to the partial solution of which you will perhaps be glad to give some attention. you may be sure that i shall always speak only upon subjects which are not even mentioned in the most crowded piano-schools. _query._ why is it that our young, educated ladies, who enjoy the advantages of sufficient talent, industry, a serious purpose, and all the necessary aids, are usually dissatisfied with their progress and with their success in piano-playing? their education is a sufficiently careful one, extending to all branches of knowledge; but their intellectual advancement in music (although it has been fostered for years, by constantly listening to good music, and frequently to the performances of distinguished players, and by a critical comparison of their own performances with these) is still small in proportion to their power of execution, and to the mechanical facility which they have acquired. these are certainly essential to a correct and agreeable rendering of a piece of music: the compositions which are to be performed ought, however, never to demand the exercise of all the mechanical skill which has been acquired, for in that case, by the struggle with mechanical difficulties, only embarrassment, discouragement, and anxious haste are apt to take the place of boldness, confidence in one's self, and command of the music. it is the duty of teachers, in choosing studies for the improvement of technique, to select only such as are within the mechanical powers of the pupil, in order that he may make steady progress, and may acquire a pure and delicate style of execution, retaining at the same time a lively interest in his pursuit. but why has the acquirement of this technique been usually unsuccessful? 1. because you begin to acquire it too late. in order to gain facility and flexibility of the fingers and wrist (which a child in the sixth or seventh year, with a skilful teacher, may acquire in four lessons), from fifteen to twenty lessons, according to the construction of the hand, are necessary with persons from ten to fourteen years old. for other reasons also, we must urge that the mechanical facility should usually be acquired, or at least a complete foundation for it laid in childhood, and not left to be formed by a course which is destructive of all spirit, at an age when labor is performed with self-consciousness,--an age when our ladies are talking a great deal of musical interpretations, of tenderness and depth of feeling, of poetry and inspiration in playing, to which they are led by the possession of our classical piano compositions and immortal master-works, and by intellectual friends and teachers aiming at the highest culture. you reply: "but even if your mode of elementary instruction should meet with faithful disciples, how, in such young pupils, are we to find perseverance and sense enough to continue these severe exercises, even in your interesting manner?" my dear ladies, children ought to do it merely from habit, although in many cases, after the beginning, talent and correct musical instinct may make their appearance. uninterrupted enjoyment would indeed be unnatural, and where you find it vanity will usually be its moving spring, and this seldom bears good fruit. you may as well ask whether our great literary men and artists always like to go to school, or whether they did not delight in a holiday. let this be the answer to the strange question, do your daughters like to play? good heavens! after they are able to play, and that without much effort, and a little at sight; when they can master, with a musical appreciation, easy, graceful salon music, or even the easier compositions of beethoven, mendelssohn, chopin, hummel, moscheles, &c.,--then they take pleasure in playing, and they play a great deal, and with enthusiasm. 2. but, in case children should sometimes begin in their sixth year, you must remember what is said, in the first chapter of this work, with regard to the prevalent false method of teaching beginners. you, however, are supposed to have had better and more sensible teachers. let me nevertheless quote for your amusement the remark which i have heard so frequently in the course of my long life as a piano-teacher: "in the beginning, a poor, rattling piano, that is forty years old, and that is tuned regularly once a year, and a cheap teacher, will do well enough. as soon as the children learn to play really well, then we will have a better piano and a better teacher." yes; but that time never comes, and the parents soon conclude that even the most gifted children have no talent, and take no pleasure in music; and so they stop learning, only to regret it when they are older. but the parents console themselves, and after a while the old piano is never tuned at all. but, as i have told you, i do not refer here to _your_ teachers, for whom i have a personal regard, and who teach on excellent pianos. 3. don't be angry with me for my suggestion, ladies: _you do not make enough use of the minutes_. while our learned education absorbs so much time, while our friends require so many hours, while, alas! balls and dinners consume whole days, we must be sparing of the remaining minutes. "now i must rush to the piano! i must go to dinner in ten minutes: two scales, two finger exercises, two difficult passages out of the piece i have to learn, and one exercise to invent on the dominant and sub-dominant, are soon done; and then the dinner will taste all the better." "my dear agnes, we might talk for ever about this dreadful snow, it won't melt the sooner for it: how do you like this passage that i am going to play to you? it is from a charming nocturne, by chopin, and is so difficult that i shall have to play it over fifty times, or else i shall always stumble at this place, and i never shall know the nocturne to play to any one. don't you think it is beautiful?--so spiritual and original! i can tell you it will be something to boast of, when i have accomplished that. you like it better the oftener i play it? so do i." "we have an invitation out. mother has a great deal to arrange, and directions to give. we shall have to go in ten minutes. i must rush to the piano, though i am in rather an inconvenient toilette: i may as well accustom myself to play in it. i shall have to spend three hours this evening without any music. well, to make up for it, i will occupy myself for the next ten minutes with an exercise for this obstinate fourth finger, though it is pretty dry. that weak finger has been a hindrance to many a fine passage and scale. that is better! now i can put on my tight gloves. suppose i should put on the left glove on the way." well, my young ladies, how many hours do you think all those minutes would make in a year? but i hear you say, "what is the use of worrying to pick up all those stray minutes, like lost pins? we have a whole hour to practise every day, when nothing prevents." exactly, when nothing prevents. i will now tell you a few of my secrets for piano performers. if in piano-playing, or in any art, you wish to attain success, you must resolve to work every day, at least a little, on the technique. sickness and other unavoidable interruptions deprive you of days enough. practise always with unexhausted energy: the result will be tenfold. do you not frequently use the time for practising, when you have already been at work studying for five or six hours? have you then strength and spirit enough to practise the necessary exercises for an hour or more, and to study your music-pieces carefully and attentively, as your teacher instructed you? is not your mind exhausted, and are not your hands and fingers tired and stiff with writing, so that you are tempted to help out with your arms and elbows, which is worse than no practice at all? but, my dear ladies, if you practise properly, several times every day, ten minutes at a time, your strength and your patience are usually sufficient for it; and, if you are obliged to omit your regular "hour's practice," you have, at any rate, accomplished something with your ten minutes before breakfast, or before dinner, or at any leisure moment. so, i beg of you, let me have my minutes. practise often, slowly, and without pedal, not only the smaller and larger études, but also your pieces. in that way you gain, at least, a correct, healthy mode of playing, which is the foundation of beautiful playing. do you do this when neither your teacher, nor your father or mother is present to keep watch over you? do you never say, "nobody is listening"? do you take enough healthy exercise in the open air? active exercise, in all weather, makes strong, enduring piano fingers, while subsisting on indoor-air results in sickly, nervous, feeble, over-strained playing. strong, healthy fingers are only too essential for our present style of piano-playing, which requires such extraordinary execution, and for our heavy instruments. so i still beg for the minutes: your walks take up hours enough. excessive and fatiguing feminine occupations, and drawing, or painting, are by no means consistent with an earnest, practical musical education; not only because both those occupations require so much time, but because they deprive the fingers of the requisite pliability and dexterity, while knitting, according to the latest discoveries, produces an unnatural nervous excitement, which is unfavorable to healthy progress in music. i at least, in my instruction on the piano, have never been able to accomplish much with ladies who are devoted to knitting, crochet, and embroidering. my dear ladies, you who have been born in fortunate circumstances, and have been educated by your parents, without regard to expense, should, at least, allow the poor girl in the country, who is obliged to hide her talents under a bushel, the small privilege of making a collar for your mother's or your aunt's birthday present. i assure you your mother or your aunt, if you surprise them instead with a fine piano performance, will be as much pleased as if you strained your eyes and bent your back for days and nights over the needle-work. and now as regards painting: painting and music, though theoretically so nearly related, agree but poorly in practice; at least, if you are in earnest about either. you say painters often play on the guitar and the flute. that may be true: i will allow them those two instruments. but piano-playing stands on a different footing, even for mere amateurs. sweet melodies on those instruments may afford an agreeable companionship for the painter in his rambles through the woods and over the hills; but piano-playing should be the friend of a life-time, ennobled by the elevating enjoyment of lofty master-works. therefore, i beg you, do not dissipate your powers too much. leave the art of painting to your friends, who are either without talent for music, or who have no opportunity to study it. our short lives do not allow the successful practice of several arts. of what advantage to our higher culture is it to be able to do ten things tolerably well; what gain for the future, for humanity, or for the true happiness of the individual? and even if you can succeed in painting something which scarcely can be said to resemble a rose, of what advantage is it, when we have so many real roses to admire? my dear ladies, i warn you, generally, do not be afraid of the so-called classical, heavy music, especially beethoven's, if you desire to learn from it, only or chiefly, repose, lightness, facility, elasticity, graceful, delicate playing, and a fine touch. it is necessary to play such music after those brilliant qualities have already been, to a certain degree, acquired by mere studies and appropriate pieces. it is, however, still more foolish and impractical, when parents (who perhaps are skilful musicians, but who have no recollection of their own youth) hold the mistaken opinion that their children ought, from the very beginning, to practise and play only fine classical music, in order that the children's ears may not be injured by false progressions, by insignificant finger exercises, and by easily comprehensible italian airs, and that they themselves may not be ruined body and soul. gracious heavens! how much pure music, suited to the piano, have not my daughters, as well as many others whom i have brought up to be fine performers, played and studied!--such, for instance, as the music of hünten, czerny, burgmüller, kalkbrenner, a. and j. schmitt, herz, and many others. who finds fault now with their musical culture, with their sound taste, or their want of love for classical music? what a long road a child has to travel through etudes of cramer, moscheles, and chopin, before he comes to bach's well-tempered clavichord, or before he is able, or ought even, to study beethoven's sonate pathétique! it is not well, though quite in the spirit of the times, to condemn without experience, from one's own prejudiced point of view, the methods which those skilled in their business have for years successfully tried and practised. it is possible to make pupils musical in the above way, but they will be only dull, clumsy bunglers on the piano; not fine artists, who alone can give a worthy and noble interpretation of classical music. i desire that my daughters may never forget my well-considered instructions, sustained by the experience of many years; and that they may, in grateful remembrance of their father and teacher, repay to their pupils what they owe to him. but i see among my audience several beginners in singing, and i beg to be allowed a word to them. so long as many of our german song composers consider it beneath their dignity to study the art of singing in the old italian master-works, and under the guidance of well-qualified singing masters,--as gluck, naumann, hasse, händel, haydn, mozart, salieri, winter, and others have done,--i warn you to take care of your tender voices, which are so easily ruined, and not to allow yourselves to be misled by ingenious opinions, and by music otherwise good. the loss of your voices follows in the footsteps of modern tortures in singing, as you may see sufficiently in all our theatres, or, indeed, may experience yourselves in numberless german songs. apply also to singing what i have just said about piano-playing: as you should choose for the piano music suited to the piano, so for your studies in singing select only that which is adapted to the voice; under the guidance of prudent and educated teachers, not of modern voice breakers, who allow you to scream, "in order to bring out the voice." when you have acquired a good technique, when your attack is sure, and a certain skilfulness in singing has been developed, then only you may try, by way of experiment, a few pieces of such spirited but unskilled song composers, who frequently commit sins in every line against correct representation, the register of the voice, the breathings, the pronunciation, and a hundred other things. look around and see who sing these so-called classical songs. they are either singers who do not know what singing is, and who have no taste for it, which, in consequence of their education, they never can have; or those who no longer have any voice, and accordingly sing every thing, or, rather, declaim it, because they cannot sing. i recommend you to sing (to mention the names of two only of our most excellent song composers) the charming songs of fr. schubert and mendelssohn, who, in constant intercourse with the most judicious masters of singing in vienna and italy, have striven constantly to compose scientifically, and have at the same time produced clever songs; but you should sing them not too often, or too many of them. singing in the german language, and in syllables, and often with clumsy melodies, requires a great deal of voice, and easily leads to many faults and to a false manner. remember how strictly jenny lind selected, for performance in her concerts, the songs of schubert, mendelssohn, and schumann. in this way she succeeded in winning great success, even with small, short songs. finally, one more secret for performers, which weighs heavy in the balance. you ought, especially if you have not received good early instruction, to acquire a habit of moving the fingers very frequently, at every convenient opportunity; and particularly of letting them fall loosely and lightly upon any hard object, while the hand lies upon something firm, in an extended position. you must accustom yourselves to do this unconsciously. for example, while reading, at table, or while listening to music, allow your hand to lie upon the table, raise the fingers, and let them fall, one at a time, quite independently of the wrist; particularly the weak fourth and fifth fingers, which require to be used a hundred times more than the others, if you wish to acquire evenness in the scales. if it attracts attention to do this on the table, then do it in your lap, or with one hand over the other. to drum with your fingers and stretch your hands on the backs of other people is not often practicable, and is not necessary. that was only pardoned in the zealous and original adolph henselt, who, though otherwise such a modest and amiable artist, even now, in st. petersburg, makes himself ridiculous in this way, by his practice of finger movements. now you perceive the reason why i cannot answer the question which has been asked me innumerable times. how much do your daughters practise? i cannot count up the finger movements and the stray ten minutes just spoken of; but it is certain that they practise fewer hours in the day than many thousands who learn nothing, for they never practise and never have practised wrongly, but always correctly and advantageously. one thing more. after my experienced, watchful eye had observed in our circle many moving fingers in consequence of my lecture, a distinguished lady of vienna whispered in my ear: "but, my dear herr wieck, my amelia is not to be a professional player: i only want her to learn a few of the less difficult sonatas of beethoven, to play correctly and fluently, without notes." my dear ladies, i do not aim with you at any thing more than this. a great many circumstances must combine for the formation of fine concert performers; in fact, the whole education, from the earliest youth, must have reference to this end. if this were not so, germany especially, on account of its natural musical talent, would be able annually to furnish thousands of _virtuoso_ performers. has my lecture been too long to-day? i ask your pardon. my desire to make myself useful to you must be my excuse, if i cannot dispose of such an extensive subject in a few words. i have not yet exhausted it. chapter xii. thoughts on piano-playing. my daughters play the music of all the principal composers, and also the best salon music. limited views of any kind are injurious to art. it is as great a mistake to play only beethoven's music as to play none of it, or to play either classical or salon music solely. if a teacher confines himself to the study of the first, a good technique, a tolerably sound style of playing, intelligence, and knowledge are generally sufficient to produce an interpretation in most respects satisfactory. the music usually compensates for a style which may be, according to circumstances, either dry, cold, too monotonous or too strongly shaded, and even for an indifferent or careless touch. interest in the composition frequently diverts the attention of even the best player from a thoroughly correct and delicate mode of execution, and from the effort to enhance the beauty of the composition, and to increase its appreciation with the hearer. in the performance of classical music, inspiration--that is, the revelation of an artistic nature and not empty affectation--can be expected only from an artist, and not from a pupil. therefore, with more advanced pupils, i take up in my lessons, in connection with a sonata by beethoven, a nocturne or waltz by chopin, and a piece by st. heller or schulhoff, henselt, c. meyer, &c. elegance and polish, a certain coquetry, nicety, delicacy, and fine shading cannot be perfected in the study of a sonata by beethoven; for which, however, the latter pieces present much greater opportunities. besides this, variety is much more sustaining to the learner; it excites his interest; he does not so soon become weary, and is guarded from carelessness; his artistic knowledge is increased, and he is agreeably surprised to find himself able to perform three pieces so distinct in character. * * * * * "expression cannot be taught, it must come of itself." but when are we to look for it? when the stiff fingers are fifty or sixty years old, and the expression is imprisoned in them, so that nothing is ever to be heard of it? this is a wide-spread delusion. let us look at a few of those to whom expression has come of itself. x. plays skilfully and correctly, but his expression continues crude, cold, monotonous; he shows too pedantic a solicitude about mechanical execution and strict time; he never ventures on a _pp._, uses too little shading in _piano_, and plays the _forte_ too heavily, and without regard to the instrument; his _crescendi_ and _diminuendi_ are inappropriate, often coarse and brought in at unsuitable places; and--his _ritardandi_! they are tedious indeed! "but miss z. plays differently and more finely." truly, she plays differently; but is it more finely? do you like this gentle violet blue, this sickly paleness, these rouged falsehoods, at the expense of all integrity of character? this sweet, embellished, languishing style, this _rubato_ and dismembering of the musical phrases, this want of time, and this sentimental trash? they both have talent, but their expression was allowed to be developed of itself. they both would have been very good players; but now they have lost all taste for the ideal, which manifests itself in the domain of truth, beauty, and simplicity. if pupils are left to themselves, they imitate the improper and erroneous easily and skilfully; the right and suitable with difficulty, and certainly unskilfully. even the little fellow who can hardly speak learns to use naughty, abusive words more quickly and easily than fine, noble expressions. what school-master has not been surprised at this facility, and what good old aunt has not laughed at it? but you say, "it is not right to force the feelings of others!" that is quite unnecessary; but it is possible to rouse the feelings of others, to guide and educate them, without prejudicing their individuality of feeling, and without restraining or disturbing them, unless they are on the wrong path. who has not listened to performers and singers who were otherwise musical, but whose sentiment was either ridiculous or lamentable? * * * * * it is generally acknowledged that, among other things, i have succeeded more or less with all my scholars in the attainment of a fine touch. people desire to obtain from me the requisite exercises for the development of this; but not much can be gained from these. the important thing is _how_ and _when_ they are to be used; and that most careful attention shall be paid in the selection of other études and pieces, in order that nothing shall be played which shall endanger the confirmation of the correct touch already acquired, or shall undo what has been accomplished in the lessons. as i have said before, it does not depend upon much practising, but upon correct practising; and that the pupils shall not be allowed to fall into errors. i am constantly asked, "how many hours a day do your daughters practise?" if the number of hours spent in practising gives the measure of the standing of a _virtuoso_, then my daughters are among the most insignificant, or in fact should not belong to the order at all. this is the place for me to explain myself more fully with regard to playing with a loose wrist, in order that i shall not be misunderstood. the tones which are produced with a loose wrist are always more tender and more attractive, have a fuller sound, and permit more delicate shading than the sharp tones, without body, which are thrown or fired off or tapped out with unendurable rigidity by the aid of the arm and fore-arm. a superior technique can with few exceptions be more quickly and favorably acquired in this way than when the elbows are required to contribute their power. i do not, however, censure the performance of many _virtuosos_, who execute rapid octave passages with a stiff wrist; they often do it with great precision, in the most rapid _tempo_, forcibly and effectively. it must, after all, depend upon individual peculiarities whether the pupil can learn better and more quickly to play such passages thus or with a loose wrist. the present style of bravoura playing for _virtuosos_ cannot dispense with facility in octave passages; it is a necessary part of it. i will now consider the use of loose and independent fingers, in playing generally; _i.e._, in that of more advanced pupils who have already acquired the necessary elementary knowledge. the fingers must be set upon the keys with a certain decision, firmness, quickness, and vigor, and must obtain a command over the key-board; otherwise, the result is only a tame, colorless, uncertain, immature style of playing, in which no fine _portamento_, no poignant _staccato_, or sprightly accentuation can be produced. every thoughtful teacher, striving for the best result, must, however, take care that this shall only be acquired gradually, and must teach it with a constant regard to individual peculiarities, and not at the expense of beauty of performance, and of a tender, agreeable touch. * * * * * it is a mortifying fact for many critics, artists, composers, and teachers, that the general public show much more correct judgment and appreciation of a fine, noble piano performance, and of a simple, pure, well-taught style of singing, and also understand the characteristics of the performer, much more quickly than they do. the sensibility and appreciation of beauty with the public is less prejudiced, less spurious, more receptive, and more artless. its perceptions are not disturbed by theories, by a desire to criticise, and many other secondary matters. the public do not take a biassed or stilted view. the admiration for jenny lind is a striking proof of this, as is also the appreciation of many piano-players. * * * * * the age of progress announces, in piano-playing also, "a higher beauty" than has hitherto existed. now, i demand of all the defenders of this new style, wherein is this superior beauty supposed to consist? it is useless to talk, in a vague way, about a beauty which no one can explain. i have listened to the playing--no, the thrumming and stamping--of many of these champions of the modern style of beauty; and i have come to the conclusion, according to my way of reasoning, that it ought to be called a higher,--quite different, inverted beauty,--a deformed beauty, repugnant to the sensibilities of all mankind. but our gifted "age of the future" protests against such cold conservatism. the period of piano fury which i have lived to see, and which i have just described, was the introduction to this new essay, only a feeble attempt, and a preliminary to this piano future. should this senseless raging and storming upon the piano, where not one idea can be intelligently expressed in a half-hour, this abhorrent and rude treatment of a grand concert piano, combined with frightful misuse of both pedals, which puts the hearer into agonies of horror and spasms of terror, ever be regarded as any thing but a return to barbarism, devoid of feeling and reason? this is to be called music! music of the future! the beauty of the future style! truly, for this style of music, the ears must be differently constructed, the feelings must be differently constituted, and a different nervous system must be created! for this again we shall need surgeons, who lie in wait in the background with the throat improvers. what a new and grand field of operations lies open to them! our age produces monsters, who are insensible to the plainest truths, and who fill humanity with horror. political excesses have hardly ceased, when still greater ones must be repeated in the world of music. but comfort yourselves, my readers: these isolated instances of madness, these last convulsions of musical insanity, with however much arrogance they may be proclaimed, will not take the world by storm. the time will come when no audience, not even eager possessors of complimentary tickets, but only a few needy hirelings, will venture to endure such concert performances of "the future." * * * * * i ought to express myself more fully with regard to expression in piano-playing. it is difficult to perform this task, at least in writing; for it can more easily be practically explained to individual learners. intelligent teachers, who are inclined to understand my meaning, will find abundant material, as well as all necessary explanations, in the preceding chapters; and i will merely say that a teacher who is endowed with the qualities which i have designated as "the three trifles" will seek to excite the same in his pupils; will refine and cultivate them, according to his ability, with disinterestedness, with energy, and with perseverance; and truth and beauty will everywhere be the result. thus he will remain in the present, where there is so much remaining to be accomplished. these three trifles certainly do not have their root in folly, want of talent, and hare-brained madness; therefore the possessors of the latter must look to the "future," and proclaim a "higher," that is, an "inverted beauty." _rules for piano pupils._ you must never begin to learn a second piece until you have entirely conquered the first. you ought to fix your eyes very carefully on the notes, and not to trust to memory; otherwise, you will never learn to play at sight. in order to avoid the habit of false fingering, you should not play any piece which is not marked for the proper fingers. you should learn to play chords and skipping notes, without looking at the keys, as this interferes with a prompt reading of the notes. you must learn to count nicely in playing, in order always to keep strict time. to use for once the language of the times, which boldly proclaims, "such things as these belong to a stand-point which we have already reached," i wish that the musicians of "the future" may as happily reach their "stand-point," not by hollow phrases and flourishes, and the threshing of empty straws, but by practical, successful efforts, and striving for that which is better. * * * * * "what is the value of your method, in the instruction of pupils who have for years played many pieces from notes, but have played them badly, and whom we are called upon to lead into a better way of playing?" a reply to this frequent inquiry can be found in my first chapter. above all things, let the notes which have already been played be laid aside for a long time; for a mistaken style of playing these has become so confirmed that to improve them is hopeless, and the tottering edifice must fall to the ground. first, improve the touch; help to acquire a better and more connected scale; teach the formation of different cadences on the dominant and sub-dominant; and the construction of various passages on the chord of the diminished seventh, to be played with correct, even, and quiet fingering, _legato_ and _staccato_, _piano_, and _forte_; pay strict attention to the use of loose fingers and a loose wrist; and allow no inattentive playing. you may soon take up, with these studies, some entirely unfamiliar piece of music, suited to the capacity of the pupil. it is not possible or desirable to attempt to make a sudden and thorough change with such pupils, even if they should show the best intentions and docility. you should select a light, easy piece of salon music, but of a nature well adapted to the piano, which shall not be wearisome to the pupil, and in the improved performance of which he will take pleasure. but, if you still find that he falls into the old, faulty manner of playing, and that the recently acquired technique, which has not yet become habitual, is endangered by it, lay this too aside, and take instead some appropriate étude, or perhaps a little prelude by bach. if, in the place of these, you choose for instruction a ponderous sonata, in which the music would distract the attention of the pupil from the improved technique, you give up the most important aim of your instruction, and occupy yourself with secondary matters; you will censure and instruct in vain, and will never attain success. you must consider, reflect, and give your mind to the peculiar needs of the pupil, and you must teach in accordance with the laws of psychology. you will succeed after a while, but precipitation, compulsion, and disputes are useless. the improvement of a soprano voice, ruined by over-screaming, requires prudence, patience, calmness, and modesty, and a character of a high type generally. it is also a very thankless task, and success is rare; while on the piano a fair result may always be accomplished. * * * * * i return once more to the subject so frequently discussed, that i may try to relieve the universal difficulty of our lady pianists. i have heard much playing of late, in parties both small and large, on well-tuned and on ill-tuned pianos, on those with which the performer was familiar, and on those to which she was unaccustomed; from the timid and the self-possessed; from ladies of various ages, possessed of more or of less talent, and in various cities: the result was always the same. we hear from the ladies that they could play their pieces at home before their parents or their teachers; but this is never sufficient to enable them to save their hearers from weariness, anxiety, and all sorts of embarrassment. my honored ladies, you play over and over again two mazourkas, two waltzes, two nocturnes, and the funeral march of chopin, the mazourka and other pieces by schulhoff, the trill-etude, and the tremolo by carl meyer, &c.: "it makes no difference to you which." you might be able to master these pieces pretty well, but, instead of this, you yourselves are mastered. you become embarrassed, and your hearers still more so: the affair ends with apologies on both sides, with equivocal compliments, with encouragement to continue in the same course, with acknowledgment of fine hands for the piano, with uneasy, forced congratulations to the parents and teacher; but it is always a happy moment when the fatal soirée is over. the next day i am forced to sigh again over the same, miserable, poorly and tediously performed funeral march of chopin, and over the timorous b major mazourka by schulhoff. the left hand is always left in the lurch in the difficult, skipping basses of this piece, and in others of the present style, which are rich in harmony and modulations. the bass part in this piece is apt to suffer from timid and false tones; frequently the fundamental tone is omitted, or the little finger remains resting upon it, instead of giving the eighth note with a crisp, elastic, and sprightly touch, and the chords are tame and incomplete. you do not give them their full value; you leave them too quickly, because you are afraid of not striking the next low note quickly enough; but, on the other hand, you do not strike it at all, and one missing tone brings another one after it. the right hand, being the most skilful, is supposed to play with expression, and really does so; but this only makes the performance the worse. the fundamental tone is wanting, and you are led to make a mistake in the skip, and strike the wrong key. finally, the whole thing is ended in terror. i have an uneasy night; i dream of your fine hands, but the false and the weak notes start up between like strange spectres or will o' the wisps, and i wake with the headache, instead of with pleasant memories. allow me to give you a piece of advice. play and practise the bass part a great deal and very often, first slowly, then quicker, during one or two weeks, before playing the right hand with it, in order that you may give your whole attention to playing the bass correctly, delicately, and surely. even when you can get through the mazourka tolerably well, you must not think, on that account, that you will be able to play it in company, under trying circumstances. you ought to be able to play the piece by yourself with ease, very frequently, perfectly, and distinctly, and in very rapid _tempo_, before you trust yourself to perform it even slowly in company. at least, practise the more difficult passages for the right hand very frequently, particularly the difficult and bold conclusion, that it may not strike the hearer as rough, weak, tame, or hurried. it is an old rule, "if you begin well and end well, all is well." you ought to practise the skipping bass over and over again by itself, otherwise it will not go. an incorrect or deficient bass, without depth of tone and without accentuation, ruins every thing, even the good temper of the hearer. one thing more: you know very well chopin's nocturne in e flat, and have played it, among other things, for the last four weeks. suddenly you are called upon to play in company. you choose this nocturne because you have played it nearly every day for four weeks. but alas! the piano fiends have come to confuse you! you strike a false bass note, and at the modulation the weak little finger touches too feebly: bah! the fundamental tone is wanting. you are frightened, and grow still more so; your musical aunt is frightened also; the blood rushes to your teacher's face, and i mutter to myself, "_c'est toujours la même._" the present style of skipping basses requires a great deal of practice and perfect security; it is necessary for you to know the piece by heart, in order to give your whole attention to the left hand. it is also essential that you shall have acquired a clear, sound touch; otherwise, you cannot give a delicate accent and shading. you must never allow yourself, _without previous preparation_, to play those pieces of music in company, in which an elegant mode of execution is all-important; otherwise, you will be taken by surprise by unexpected difficulties. you must always pay special attention to the fundamental tones, even if there should be imperfections elsewhere. where one fault is less important than another, of two evils choose the least. you have been playing now for six or eight years: are you repaid for the trouble, if it only enables you to prepare embarrassments for others? you are not willing to play easy, insignificant pieces; and such pieces as you choose require industry, earnestness, and perseverance. * * * * * young ladies, it is easy to discover the character of a person from his manner of standing, walking, moving, and speaking, from the way he bows, puts on and takes off his hat, or the arrangements of the household; and we seldom are in error about it. it is also possible to infer beforehand how you will play and what sort of a performance you will give, from the manner in which you take your seat at the piano. you sidle up to the piano lazily, bent over in a constrained manner; in your embarrassment, you place yourself before the one-lined or two-lined _c_, instead of before _f_; you sit unsteadily, either too high or too low, only half on the seat, leaning either too much to the right or to the left; in a word, as if you did not belong to the fatal music-stool. your manner awakens no confidence, and in this way announces that you have none yourself. how do you expect to exercise control over a grand seven octave piano, if you do not sit exactly in the middle, with the body erect and the feet on the two pedals? you are not willing to look the friend straight in the face, with whom you are to carry on a friendly, confidential discourse! even if your attitude and bearing were not so injurious and dangerous for the performer as it is, still propriety and good sense would require that you should excite the confidence of your hearers in you and in your playing by a correct position of the body, and by a certain decision and resolution, and should prepare him to form a good opinion of you. there are, indeed, many _virtuosos_ who think they give evidence of genius, by throwing themselves on to the music-stool in a slovenly, lounging manner, and try to show in this way their superiority to a painstaking performance, and to make up by a showy _nonchalance_ for what is wanting in their playing. you are, however, a stranger to such assertion of superior genius, and to such an expression of intensity of feeling; you do it only from embarrassment, and from a modest want of confidence in your own powers, which is quite unnecessary. our great masters, such as field, hummel, moscheles, mendelssohn, and others, had no taste for such improprieties, for such manifestations of genius. they applied themselves to their task with earnest devotion, and with respect for the public. chapter xiii. on musical talent. a large and varied experience is required for a correct estimate of musical talent in the young. do not be deceived by the early evidences of talent; for instance, interest in melodies, correct feeling for time, an instinct for accenting the important notes, inclination for some peculiar though often perverted style of performance, quick apprehension, a natural aptitude for playing, a nice hearing, animation, rapid progress, docility, superficial gayety; even if all or a part of these traits are observable in early youth, they must not excite too sanguine hopes. i have often met with such phenomena, and have been called upon to educate such little piano prodigies. they advanced quite rapidly, and understood every thing readily, if i did not make too much demand upon their wavering attention. i dreamed of the extraordinary surprises that these marvellous youths would create at twelve or fourteen years of age; but the fulfilment of my ideal i saw only in my mind's eye, for just then the improvement came to a sudden stand-still,--a fatal moment, when the teacher is perplexed to know what to do next. the musical nature seemed to have exhausted itself, to have out-lived itself. the pupil even felt this: his interest in the piano and in music generally grew feeble, his playing suddenly became careless, powerless, spiritless; he played with evident indifference. out into the fresh air! into open natural scenes! now for a journey! i allowed a long vacation to intervene; the pupil was quite contented, and had no desire for the piano, or, if so, only jingled a little. at last we began again, but we spent our time without much result; he was nevertheless still musical, but he finally ranked at best with dozens of other players, and ended as an ordinary piano teacher. similar halts in progress occur in fact with all pupils, especially with female scholars; but they are not usually so lasting, so discouraging, or so significant of exhaustion. they are surmounted, after a short interval, by the discontinuance of serious musical studies; perhaps by reading at sight for a while; by occupying the pupil for a time with the theory, or with attempts at composition or improvisation; by allowing him to listen to other players better or worse; by giving him interesting books to read; by making him acquainted with beethoven, or in other ways. from our observation of such sudden changes, and of the frequent occurrence of unskilful management, we can explain the sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance of innumerable infant prodigies in our age, who have excited hopes, and have almost all of them been lost, or have passed out of sight, and resulted in nothing of value. i have always preferred a gradual, even a slow development, step by step, which often made no apparent progress, but which still proceeded with a certain constancy, and with deliberation, and which was combined with dreamy sensibility and a musical instinct, requiring slow awakening, and even with a certain flightiness, one for which the patient labor and perseverance of six years or more was required, and where childishness allowed no encouragement to sordid speculations for the future. in such cases, when my instructions were not disturbed by untoward circumstances, the result has always been a desirable one. but how much patience and perseverance has this required! i have reflected much and have often spoken, both seriously and playfully, of the slow advancement of my pupils. allow me here to describe five phases or stages of human development. _first stage._ in the first two or three years, man is far behind the animal, whose quick instinct distinguishes the good from the bad, the useful from the injurious. the child, without hesitation, rolls off the table, or knocks his brains out, or destroys himself with poisonous herbs or arsenic. nevertheless, let him at that age hear plenty of pure sounds, music, singing, &c. he will soon learn to listen, like the little black poodle. he already has a dim suspicion that other things exist which are not evil, besides mamma, papa, the nurse, the doll, and the sound of words. _second stage._ from the fourth to the seventh year, instinct is developed; which, in the animal, surprises the observer in the first two weeks of life. now we should begin with the technique, at least with the correct movement of the fingers upon the table. the child should be told that he shall soon produce the pleasant tones, which he has been accustomed to hear from infancy; but that for this a quick and quiet movement of the fingers is necessary, which must be acquired by daily practice. this is entirely in accordance with nature, for man is appointed to learn. let the child lay his hand upon the table, and knock upon it with the first finger (_i.e._, the thumb) stretched out, without using the muscles of the arm, then with the second, third, and fourth fingers, in an almost perpendicular position, and with the fifth finger extended. then let him strike a third with the first and third fingers together; a fourth, with the first and fourth fingers; first with the right hand, then with the left hand, and afterwards with both together, &c. _third stage._ from the seventh to the twelfth year. at this stage unruliness makes its appearance, and at the same time--the notes; but not beethoven. that would indeed be an unfortunate musical indulgence. violent outbreaks of untamed strength; unexpected freaks; alternations of rude instinct and quick intelligence, of lofty fancy and artless simplicity; disobedience; much appetite, &c.,--all these must be shaped, and made subservient to the object we have in view. do you understand me, gentlemen? _fourth stage._ excellent parents, who desire to see the ripe fruits of your care and labor, have patience! first there comes the foreshadowing of manhood,--a very interesting period. the youth steps out of the animal into the human kingdom, and often is unable to forget his earlier condition, but revels in sweet remembrance of it. try now, gently and timidly, beethoven, chopin, schumann, and the like. this extraordinary being, "one-fourth animal and three-fourths human," requires to be awakened, excited, and to have the imagination aroused; and, above all, requires the most careful guidance. it is necessary to stir and agitate the nature, in order that reflection, conscience, the sensibilities of the soul, feeling, creative power, and all inward conditions shall be developed; and that out of this chaos shall be brought a clear and beautiful order. _fifth stage._ the adult man in his eighteenth year. the year, however, varies with individuals, and can be modified at will. if i should enter into details of the four earlier stages of humanity, and treat in addition of the adult man, i should be obliged to write a philosophical work on the subject, and that might not be entertaining. i should be obliged to beg your indulgence for a tedious book, and my daughters certainly would not thank me for it; they are very sensitive. but i must, nevertheless, secretly whisper in your ear that "my daughters, like the daughters of many others, have been carried through these five stages in the most careful and thorough manner." i ought to know that best. here you have the answer to many strange questions. _cautions._ i warn pianists, and others also, in playing: 1. against any showy and unsuitable display. why should you wish to attract attention, and to create an effect by foppishness and all sorts of grimaces, or by curious and marvellous exhibitions of _virtuoso_-ship? you have only to play musically and beautifully, and to deport yourselves with modesty and propriety. direct your whole attention to the business in hand,--that is, to your performance; and endeavor to secure for it the interest of the public, who are so easily rendered inattentive. we want no more public performances from eccentric geniuses. 2. do not devote yourself exclusively to pieces calculated to show the skill of the performer. why desire always to show off your power in octave passages, your trills, your facility in skips, your unprecedented stretches, or other fantastic feats? you only produce weariness, satiety, and disgust, or, at least, you make yourselves ridiculous. 3. play good music in a musical and rational manner. the public are tired of hearing potpourris, made up of odds and ends, tedious etudes, rhapsodies, fantasias without fancy, dismal monotonies and endless, cheap, silly cadences that mean nothing. learn to understand the age, and the world in which you live. 4. do not make yourselves ridiculous by new inventions in piano-playing. i mention, for example, one of the most foolish affectations of modern times. you try to quiver on a note, just as violin and 'cello players are unfortunately too much inclined to do. do not expose yourselves to the derision of every apprentice in piano manufacture. have you no understanding of the construction of the piano? you have played upon it, or have, some of you, stormed upon it, for the last ten years; and yet you have not taken pains to obtain even a superficial acquaintance with its mechanism. the hammer, which by its stroke upon the string has produced the sound, falls immediately when the tone resounds; and after that you may caress the key which has set the hammer in motion, fidget round on it as much as you please, and stagger up and down over it, in your intoxicated passion,--no more sound is to be brought out from it, with all your trembling and quivering. it is only the public who are quivering with laughter at your absurdity. 5. give up the practice of extreme stretches. widely dispersed harmonies may sometimes produce a good effect, but not by too frequent and too eager an employment of them at every opportunity. even the greatest beauties in art can lead to mannerism, and this again to one-sidedness. art should be many-sided, and you must never produce the impression that you are inclined to make the means an end. i beg you to reflect that too much practice of very wide stretches enfeebles the muscles and the power of the hand and fingers, endangers an even, sound touch, and makes the best style of playing a doubtful acquisition. teachers ought therefore to use great prudence, and only gradually to permit their pupils, especially young girls, to practise great extensions and wide stretches. to learn to be able to strike ten notes is quite enough. 6. before you perform a piece, play a few suitable chords, and a few appropriate passages or scales up and down (but play no stupid trash, such as i have heard from many _virtuosos_), in order to try whether the condition of the instrument presents any unexpected difficulties. try carefully also the unavoidable pedal. a creaking, rattling, grating pedal is a frightful annoyance; i wonder if the piano of "the future" is to suffer from this also. chopin's funeral march, with obligato accompaniment of a squeaking pedal sentiment, even although the omissions and mistakes in the bass do not occur,--alas! who can describe the effect of this melancholy march? 7. i have written a special article on the manner of sitting at the piano, and i will refer you once more to that. 8. use no mechanical aids in practising, not even the dumb key-board; although, with very careful use, that is not without value. strength will come with time; do not try to hurry nature. the table is the best "dumb key-board," as i have already explained. the "hand-guide" is also unnecessary: its value is compensated by its disadvantages. 9. do not let your hearers crowd too near while you are playing. do not play the same piece _da capo_. you may be justified in breaking off in the midst of a piece, if there is loud and continuous talking, &c. i hope you will give me the honor of your company again at my soirées: i am no writer of comedies, but i can tell you a great deal that is interesting and amusing which i have myself experienced. chapter xiv. extravagances in singing and piano-playing. _(an evening party at mr. gold's.)_ dramatis personæ. mr. gold, _the banker (fond of music)._ mrs. gold _(sings, and is an invalid.)_ mr. silver, _bookkeeper (formerly a singer with strauss)._ mr. pious, _a friend of the family (a musical impostor, and a hypocrite generally)._ mr. forte, _a foreign piano virtuoso (of weak nerves)._ dominie, _a piano-teacher._ emma, _his daughter._ (_mrs. gold has just been singing in the modern italian manner; suddenly alternating exaggerated high and low tones, given in a jerking manner, with inaudible _pianissimo_ in the throat, and quavering on every note, with many ornaments, and always a quarter of a tone too flat. she sang all the four verses of "fondly i think of thee" by krebs._) dominie. will you not go on, mrs. gold? the piano is a little too high, and you are obliged to accustom yourself a little to it. mrs. gold. i cannot sing any more. that beautiful song has taken such hold of me, and i feel so badly. (_whispers to dominie._) mr. forte did not accompany me well, either: sometimes he did not come in right, and played too feebly; and sometimes he improvised too much in playing, and overpowered my voice, which is a little weak just now. dominie (_aside to emma_). what an evening of singing! oh dear! mr. gold (_who has been earnestly talking about stocks all the evening in an adjoining room, rushes in, but rather late, after the close of the song, and impetuously presses his wife's hand_). marvellous! magnificent! delicious! wonderful! my dear, you are in excellent voice this evening. if jenny lind could only have heard you! mr. pious. charming! superb! how touching! there is a religious character in this piece, something holy about it! i beg of you, do sing that air by voss, "true happiness." that will make our enjoyment complete; it is truly ravishing! there is something divine in singing, and your expression, your feeling, madam! you give yourself up so entirely to the composition! (_mrs. gold has already taken up "true happiness," and can hardly wait while mr. forte murmurs off the introduction, quite after his own fancy, with a sentimental _piano_. mr. pious drops a tear at the close of the introduction, the four bars of which have been transformed into eight bars by the great _virtuoso_. during the tremulous, affected performance of "true happiness," mr. pious rolls up his moistened eyes; and, at the end of the first verse, where the accompanist once more gives the reins to his fancy, he says, "i am speechless, i cannot find words to express my emotion!"_) dominie (_aside to emma_). that you may call forged sentiment, the counterfeit of feeling. you hear now how one ought _not_ to sing. for an earnest, true musician, such a warmth in singing is only empty affectation, disgusting, sentimental rubbish, and hollow dissimulation. you will, however, frequently meet with such amateur infelicities. (_mrs. gold has finished singing all the verses of "true happiness," and seems now to have almost entirely recovered. mr. gold continues to converse about stocks in the adjoining room. dominie remains with emma at the end of the parlor, depressed and worried._) mr. forte (_keeps his seat at the piano, and says in french to mrs. gold_). madam, you have reached the climax of the beautiful in music. i count it one of the happiest moments of my artistic tour to be allowed to breathe out my soul at the piano, in the presence of one like yourself. what a loss, that your position must prevent you from elevating the german opera to its former greatness, as its most radiant star! mrs. gold (_by this time quite well_). i must confess that jenny lind never quite satisfied me when she was here. she is, and must always remain, a swede,--utterly cold. if she had been educated here, she would have listened to more passionate models than in stockholm, and that would have given the true direction to her sensibility. mr. forte. you are quite right; you have a just estimate of her. in paris, where she might have heard such examples, she lived in perfect retirement. i was giving concerts there at the time; but she refused to sing in my concerts, and therefore she did not even hear me. mr. silver (_whom the excitement of the singing has at length reached_). do you feel inclined now, madam, to execute with me the duet from "the creation," between adam and eve? mrs. gold. here is "the creation," but we will sing it by and by. mr. forte is just going to play us his latest composition for the left hand, and some of the music of that romantic, deeply sensitive chopin. mr. gold (_rushes in from his stock discussion_). oh, yes! chopin's b major mazourka! that was also played at my house by henselt, thalberg, and dreyschock. oh, it is touching! all (_except mr. silver, dominie, and emma_). oh, how touching! dominie (_to his daughter_). if he plays it in the same manner in which he accompanied "true happiness," you will hear how this mazourka should _not_ be played. it, by the way, is not at all _touching_: it gives quite boldly the polish dance rhythm, as it is improvised by the peasants in that country; but it is, however, idealized after chopin's manner. (_mr. forte plays several perilous runs up and down with various octave passages, all the time keeping his foot on the pedal; and connects with these immediately, and without a pause, the mazourka, which he commences _presto_. he played it without regard to time or rhythm, but with a constant _rubato_, and unmusical jerks. a few notes were murmured indistinctly _pp._, and played very _ritardando_; then suddenly a few notes were struck very rapidly and with great force, so that the strings rattled; and the final b major chord cost the life of one string._) mr. gold. excellent! bravissimo! what a comprehension of the piece! such artistic performances make one even forget the stock-exchange! mrs. gold. you agitate my inmost nerves! the english poet, pope, holds that no created man can penetrate the secrets of nature; but you have penetrated the secrets of my soul. now do play at once the f sharp minor mazourka, opus 6. mr. pious. what a musical evening mrs. gold has prepared for us! what sublime sorrow lies in this production! mr. silver (_aside_). what would father strauss say to this affected, unmusical performance, that bids defiance to all good taste? dominie. mrs. gold, it would be well to send for the tuner to replace this broken b string. the next one will break soon, for it is already cracked, and its tone is fallen. mr. forte (_with a superior air_). it is of no consequence. that frequently happens to me; but i never mind it. the piano is a battle-field where there must be sacrifices. dominie (_whispers to emma_). he thinks that if the sound is not musical, still it makes a noise; and tones out of tune produce more effect than those that are pure. emma. where did he learn piano-playing? dominie. my child, he has not _learned_ it. that is genius, which comes of itself. instruction would have fettered his genius, and then he would have played distinctly, correctly, unaffectedly, and in time; but that would be too much like the style of an amateur. this uncontrolled hurly-burly, which pays no regard to time, is called the soaring of genius. (_mr. forte storms through various unconnected chords with the greatest rapidity, with the pedal raised; and passes without pause to the f sharp minor mazourka. he accents vehemently, divides one bar and gives it two extra quarter notes, and from the next bar he omits a quarter note, and continues in this manner with extreme self-satisfaction till he reaches the close; and then, after a few desperate chords of the diminished seventh, he connects with it liszt's transcription of schubert's serenade in d minor. the second string of the two-lined b snaps with a rattle, and there ensues a general whispering "whether the piece is by mendelssohn, or döhler, or beethoven, or proch, or schumann," until finally mr. silver mentions schubert's serenade. mr. forte concludes with the soft pedal, which in his inspired moments he had already made frequent use of._) dominie (_to emma_). you should never play in company, without mentioning previously what you are going to perform. you observe, as soon as the serenade was mentioned, it put a stop to the guessing. all (_except mr. silver and dominie_). what a glorious performance! what an artistic treat! mrs. gold. what spirituality in his playing! mr. silver (_asking mr. forte for information_). i noticed, in the serenade, you made only one bar of the two where it modulates to f major, in your rapid playing of the passage. was that accidental? emma (_aside_). he ought to have played a little slower just there. mr. forte. in such beautiful passages, every thing must be left to the suggestion of one's feelings. perhaps another time i may make three bars, just as inspiration and genius may intimate. those are æsthetic surprises. henselt, moscheles, thalberg, and clara wieck do not execute in that manner, and consequently can produce no effect, and do not travel. dominie (_to emma_). i hope that your natural taste and your musical education will preserve you from such preposterous extravagances. emma. such playing makes one feel quite uncomfortable and worried. probably that is what you call "devilish modern"? dominie. yes. emma. but do people like it? dominie. certainly: a great many people do. it has the superior air of genius, and sounds very original. (_mrs. gold has "the creation" in her hand, and mr. silver leads her to the piano for the execution of the grand duet between adam and eve. mr. forte is exhausted, and dominie plays the accompaniment. mr. silver sings intelligently and unaffectedly; mrs. gold, as before, but with still less regard to time, and more out of tune; but she tries to compensate for this by introducing very long ornaments at the _fermate_ in the _allegro_, sung with her thin, piercing, over-strained voice; and she frequently rolls up her black eyes. at the conclusion, mrs. gold was led to the arm-chair, in great exhaustion of feeling._) mr. pious. the divine art of music celebrates its perfect triumph in such interpretations of haydn. mrs. gold, were those delicious _fermate_ of your own invention? mrs. gold. no: the charming viardot-garcia first introduced them as rosina in "the barber of seville," and i had them written down by a musician in the theatre. but the employment of them in this duet is my own idea. i have already surprised and delighted a great many people with them in parties. the grand, rushing, chromatic scale with which the artistic garcia astonishes every one, when acting the dreaming, fainting amina in "la somnambula," i introduce in the grand aria of the divine "prophet;" rather timidly, it is true, for the boldness of a garcia can only be acquired on the stage. emma. but, father, jenny lind sang in this duet in vienna, quite simply, and with a pure religious spirit. dominie. that is the reason mrs. gold says that jenny lind sings too coldly, and ought to listen to more passionate models. but we will talk more about this at home. mrs. gold. now, mr. dominie, will not your daughter emma play us some little trifle? afterwards i will execute with mr. silver, "by thy loving kindness, o lord," and a few duets by kücken, and finish, if the company wishes, with the "grâce" aria. dominie. will you allow me first to replace this broken string? (_after dominie has finished, mr. forte strides up to the piano, and plays his etude for the left hand, with the right hand extended towards the company._) dominie (_to mr. forte, after the conclusion of the piece_). would it not have been easier and more to the purpose, if you had used both hands? mr. forte. we must forgive old people such pedantic observations. you entirely mistake my stand-point. do you not see that i am standing with one foot in the future? are you not aware that the public wish not only to listen, but to see something strange? do you not perceive also that my appearance of ill-health produces a great musical effect? mr. pious. do you not feel the special charm and the fine effect which is produced by the left hand playing alone, and no less by the right hand extended? dominie. is it so? well, probably feeling has taken a false direction with me. i shall be obliged to accustom myself to such parisian flights of sentiment. (_emma played chopin's ballad in a flat major, after dominie had previously announced it. the company were attentive._) mr. forte (_at the conclusion_). bravo! a very good beginning, mr. dominie. i am sorry that i am obliged to take leave now: i am obliged to go to two more soirées this evening, and have many letters of introduction to deliver. mr. silver. miss emma, i have just heard that you play finely a great deal of chopin's music. let us hear his two latest nocturnes. mrs. gold (_to emma_). have you heard the famous camilla pleyel play kalkbrenner's charming d minor concerto? do you not also play such brilliant music? for example, döhler's beautiful, pathetic notturno in d flat. mr. x. lately played that to us enchantingly. emma. i know it. i am teaching it to my little sister, cecilia. dominie. will you allow her now to play chopin's two nocturnes, opus 48? * * * * * i will say nothing about the conclusion of the singing,--the "grâce" aria. at midnight there was a grand supper, washed down with sweet wine, and seasoned with bitter recollections of this musical evening. chapter xv. conclusion. i have received the following communication from an old literary friend, to whom i sent my eighth chapter, requesting his opinion of it:- motto. _there are unreceptive times, but that which is eternal outlives all times._--joh. von müller. my dear friend,--i have read your eighth chapter. what you facetiously call "the three trifles" seem to me to be three most important points, even if you had described them simply as _fine_ taste, _deep_ feeling, and _a good_ ear. who expects superlative excellence from the age in which he lives, and who dares to attack it, in its most vulnerable parts? you grow more harsh and disagreeable, and you do not seem to consider how many enemies you make, among those who think that they have long ago advanced beyond these three points. just now, too, when there is so much said about "the intellectual" in music, and about "the inner nature of the future," and when such fine expressions are invented about it, you come forward with your three unseasonable trifles in the superlative degree. do you imagine that our intelligent age cannot discern your hidden satire? you say that our times are in need of your three trifles, _and_ the necessary knowledge and experience. _voilà tout!_ as for prince louis ferdinand, dussek, clementi, himmel, hummel, c.m.v. weber, beethoven, &c.,--who has not heard all about them? after them, comes the period of "piano fury," and the compositions appropriate for it. now the three trifles required are _distorted_ taste, _hypocritical_ feeling, and a _depraved_ ear, combined with the necessary superficiality and some power of production. _voilà tout!_ after that, musicians bethink themselves once more of the genuine three trifles, and return to reason, and we are allowed to take delight in chopin, mendelssohn, fr. schubert, robert schumann, and a few others of the same sort, and again in beethoven. these were succeeded by mere dry imitators; they were not, however, of much significance. finally, the very latest progress introduces a still more extravagant piano fury. the three trifles are now _distorted_ taste, _no_ feeling, and _no_ ear for tone; and with these are required the necessary audacity, immeasurable vanity, senseless exhibitions of strength, a poor touch upon the piano, and what they call "intellect." the compositions are now embellished with appropriate pictures on the cover, and with attractive title-pages. in addition, there is much talk about a "higher beauty," "the stand-points which have been already surmounted," "artistic flights," and the "misunderstanding of the inner consciousness," "genius must be free," &c. my old conservative friend, you are seen through. your influence, and more especially your ideas about singing, belong only to a past age. they date from the last century. you will be derided with your jenny lind and henrietta sontag. they are lifeless images of singers, to be kept in a glass case. are you willing to remain ignorant of the magnificent modern style of voice? can you not go forward with the advancing age? progressive philosophers will rap you over the knuckles. you imagine that our times will stop for a couple of lectures! you will yet have to learn what "intellect" signifies. in short, i should not like to stand in your shoes. you should conclude your book with "pater, peccavi." even in misfortune, your sympathizing friend, _v.e._ note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 39211-h.htm or 39211-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39211/39211-h/39211-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39211/39211-h.zip) [illustration: _josef hofmann_] piano playing with piano questions answered by josef hofmann copyright © 1909 by doubleday, page and company; renewed 1937 by j. hofmann. © 1908 by mcclure company; renewed 1936 by j. hofmann. © 1920 by theodore presser company; renewed 1947 by josef hofmann. piano playing to my dear friend constantin von sternberg contents page a foreword xv the piano and its player 3 general rules 19 correct touch and technic 34 the use of the pedal 41 playing "in style" 49 how rubinstein taught me to play 57 indispensables in pianistic success 70 list of illustrations _josef hofmann_ _frontispiece_ facing page _the position of the hand_ 20 _incorrect way to play an octave_ 28 _correct way to play an octave_ 28 _incorrect position of the little finger_ 29 _correct position of the little finger_ 29 _incorrect position of thumb_ 38 _correct position of thumb_ 38 _incorrect position of the feet_ 42 _correct position of the feet on the pedal_ 43 _anton rubinstein_ 58 _how rubinstein taught me to play_ 59 a foreword this little book purposes to present a general view of artistic piano-playing and to offer to young students the results of such observations as i have made in the years of my own studies, as well as of the experiences which my public activity has brought me. it is, of course, only the concrete, the material side of piano-playing that can be dealt with here--that part of it which aims to reproduce in tones what is plainly stated in the printed lines of a composition. the other, very much subtler part of piano-playing, draws upon and, indeed, depends upon imagination, refinement of sensibility, and spiritual vision, and endeavours to convey to an audience what the composer has, consciously or unconsciously, hidden _between_ the lines. that almost entirely psychic side of piano-playing eludes treatment in literary form and must, therefore, not be looked for in this little volume. it may not be amiss, however, to dwell a moment upon these elusive matters of æsthetics and conception, though it be only to show how far apart they are from technic. when the material part, the technic, has been completely acquired by the piano student, he will see a limitless vista opening up before him, disclosing the vast field of artistic interpretation. in this field the work is largely of an analytical nature and requires that intelligence, spirit, and sentiment, supported by knowledge and æsthetic perception, form a felicitous union to produce results of value and dignity. it is in this field that the student must learn to perceive the invisible something which unifies the seemingly separate notes, groups, periods, sections, and parts into an organic whole. the spiritual eye for this invisible something is what musicians have in mind when they speak of "reading between the lines"--which is at once the most fascinating and most difficult task of the interpretative artist; for, it is just between the lines where, in literature as in music, the soul of a work of art lies hidden. to play its notes, even to play them correctly, is still very far from doing justice to the life and soul of an artistic composition. i should like to reiterate at this point two words which i used in the second paragraph: the words "consciously or unconsciously." a brief comment upon this alternative may lead to observations which may throw a light upon the matter of reading between the lines, especially as i am rather strongly inclining toward the belief in the "unconscious" side of the alternative. i believe that every composer of talent (not to speak of genius) in his moments of creative fever has given birth to thoughts, ideas, designs that lay altogether beyond the reach of his conscious will and control. in speaking of the products of such periods we have hit upon exactly the right word when we say that the composer "has surpassed himself." for, in saying this we recognise that the act of surpassing one's self precludes the control of the self. a critical, sober overseeing of one's work during the period of creation is unthinkable, for it is the fancy and the imagination that carries one on and on, will-lessly, driftingly, until the totality of the tonal apparition is completed and mentally as well as physically absorbed. now, inasmuch as the composer's conscious will takes little or no part in the creating of the work, it seems to follow that he is not, necessarily, an absolute authority as to the "only correct way" of rendering it. pedantic adherence to the composer's own conception is, to my mind, not an unassailable maxim. the composer's way of rendering his composition may not be free from certain predilections, biases, mannerisms, and his rendition may also suffer from a paucity of pianistic experience. it seems, therefore, that to do justice to the work itself is of far greater importance than a slavish adherence to the composer's conception. now, to discover what it is, intellectually or emotionally, that hides itself between the lines; how to conceive and how to interpret it--that must ever rest with the reproductive artist, provided that he possesses not only the spiritual vision which entitles him to an individual conception, but also the technical skill to express what this individual conception (aided by imagination and analysis) has whispered to him. taking these two conditions for granted, his interpretations--however punctiliously he adhere to the text--will and must be a reflex of his breeding, education, temperament, disposition; in short, of all the faculties and qualities that go to make up his personality. and as these personal qualities differ between players, their interpretations must, necessarily, differ in the same measure. in some respects the performance of a piece of music resembles the reading of a book aloud to some one. if a book should be read to us by a person who does not understand it, would it impress us as true, convincing, or even credible? can a dull person, by reading them to us, convey bright thoughts intelligibly? even if such a person were drilled to read with outward correctness that of which he cannot fathom the meaning, the reading could not seriously engage our attention, because the reader's want of understanding would be sure to effect a lack of interest in us. whatever is said to an audience, be the speech literary or musical, must be a free and individual expression, governed only by general or is it æsthetic laws or rules; it must be free to be artistic, and it must be individual to have vital force. traditional conceptions of works of art are "canned goods," unless the individual happens to concur with the traditional conception, which, at best, is very rarely the case and does not speak well for the mental calibre of the easily contented treader of the beaten path. we know how precious a thing is freedom. but in modern times it is not only precious, it is also costly; it is based upon certain possessions. this holds as good in life as in art. to move comfortably with freedom in life requires money; freedom in art requires a sovereign mastery of technic. the pianist's artistic bank-account upon which he can draw at any moment is his technic. we do not gauge him by it as an artist, to be sure, but rather by the use he makes of it; just as we respect the wealthy according to the way in which they use their money. and as there are wealthy people that are vulgar, so there may be pianists who, despite the greatest technic, are not artists. still, while money is to a gentleman perhaps no more than a rather agreeable adjunct, technic is to the pianist's equipment an indispensable necessity. to assist young students in acquiring this necessity, the following articles were written for _the ladies' home journal_, and for this form i have gone over them and corrected and amplified. i sincerely hope that they will help my young colleagues to become free as piano-playing musicians first, and that this, in its turn and with the help of good fortune in their career, will bring them the means to make them equally free in their daily life. josef hofmann. piano playing the piano and its player the first requisite for one who wishes to become a musicianly and artistic pianist is a precise knowledge of the possibilities and limitations of the piano as an instrument. having properly recognised them both, having thus staked off a stretch of ground for his activity, he must explore it to discover all the resources for tonal expression that are hidden within its pale. with these resources, however, he must be contented. he must, above all, never strive to rival the orchestra. for there is no necessity to attempt anything so foolish and so futile, since the gamut of expressions inherent to the piano is quite extensive enough to vouchsafe artistic results of the very highest order, provided, of course, that this gamut is used in an artistic manner. the piano and the orchestra from one point of view the piano can claim to be the equal of the orchestra; namely, in so far as it is--no less than the orchestra--the exponent of a specific branch of music which, complete by itself, reposes upon a literature exclusively its own and of a type so distinguished that only the orchestra can claim to possess its peer. the great superiority of the literature of the piano over that of any other single instrument has, to my knowledge, never been disputed. i think it is equally certain that the piano grants to its players a greater freedom of expression than any other instrument; greater--in certain respects--than even the orchestra, and very much greater than the organ, which, after all, lacks the intimate, personal element of "touch" and the immediateness of its variegated results. in dynamic and colouristic qualities, on the other hand, the piano cannot bear comparison with the orchestra; for in these qualities it is very limited indeed. the prudent player will not go beyond these limits. the utmost that the pianist can achieve in the way of colour may be likened to what the painters call "monochrome." for in reality the piano, like any other instrument, has only one colour; but the artistic player can subdivide the colour into an infinite number and variety of shades. the virtue of a specific charm, too, attaches as much to the piano as to other instruments, though, perhaps, in a lesser degree of sensuousness than to some others. is it because of this lesser sensuous charm that the art of the piano is considered the chastest of all instruments? i am rather inclined to think that it is, partly at least, due to this chastity that it "wears" best, that we can listen longer to a piano than to other instruments, and that this chastity may have had a reflex action upon the character of its unparagoned literature. for this literature, though, we have to thank the pianists themselves, or, speaking more precisely, we are indebted to the circumstance that the piano is the only single instrument capable of conveying the complete entity of a composition. that melody, bass, harmony, figuration, polyphony, and the most intricate contrapuntal devices can--by skilful hands--be rendered simultaneously and (to all intents and purposes) completely on the piano has probably been the inducement which persuaded the great masters of music to choose it as their favourite instrument. it may be mentioned at this point that the piano did not have the effect of impairing the orchestration of the great composers--as some musical wiseacres assert from time to time--for they have written just as fine works for a variety of other instruments, not to speak of their symphonies. thus has, for instance, the most substantial part of the violin literature been contributed by piano-players (bach, mozart, beethoven, mendelssohn, brahms, bruch, saint-saëns, tschaikowski, and many others). as to the literature of the orchestra, it came almost exclusively from those masters whose only, or chiefest, medium of musical utterance was the piano. highly organised natures, as they were, they liked to dress their thoughts, sometimes, in the colour splendour of the orchestra. looking at the depth of their piano works, however, at their sterling merit, at their poetry, i feel that even a refined musical nature may find lifelong contentment in the piano--despite its limitations--if, as i said before, the artist keeps within its boundaries and commands its possibilities. for it is, after all, not so very little that the piano has to offer. it is both governed and manipulated by one and the same mind and person; its mechanism is so fine and yet so simple as to make its tone response quite as direct as that of any other stringed instrument; it admits of the thoroughly personal element of touch; it requires no auxiliary instruments (for even in the concerto the orchestra is not a mere accompanist but an equal partner, as the name "concerto" implies); its limitations are not as bad as those of some other instruments or of the voice; it outweighs these limitations very fairly by the vast wealth of its dynamic and touch varieties. considering all these and many other points of merit, i think that a musician may be pretty well satisfied with being a pianist. his realm is in more than one respect smaller than that of the conductor, to be sure, but on the other hand the conductor loses many lovely moments of sweet intimacy which are granted to the pianist when, world-oblivious and alone with his instrument he can commune with his innermost and best self. consecrated moments, these, which he would exchange with no musician of any other type and which wealth can neither buy nor power compel. the piano and the player music makers are, like the rest of mankind, not free from sin. on the whole, however, i think that the transgressions of pianists against the canons of art are less grave and less frequent than those of other music makers; perhaps, because they are--usually--better grounded as musicians than are singers and such players of other instruments as the public places on a par with the pianists i have in mind. but, while their sins may be less in number and gravity--let it be well understood that the pianists are no saints. alas, no! it is rather strange, though, that their worst misdeeds are induced by that very virtue of the piano of requiring no auxiliary instruments, of being independent. if it were not so; if the pianist were compelled always to play in company with other musicians, these other players might at times differ with him as to conception, tempo, etc., and their views and wishes should have to be reckoned with, for the sake of both equilibrium and--sweet peace. left entirely to himself, however, as the pianist usually is in his performances, he sometimes yields to a tendency to move altogether too freely, to forget the deference due to the composition and its creator, and to allow his much-beloved "individuality" to glitter with a false and presumptuous brightness. such a pianist does not only fail in his mission as an interpreter but he also misjudges the possibilities of the piano. he will, for instance, try to produce six _forte-s_ when the piano has not more than three to give, all told, except at a sacrifice of its dignity and its specific charm. the extremest contrasts, the greatest _forte_ and the finest _piano_, are given factors determined by the individual piano, by the player's skill of touch, and by the acoustic properties of the hall. these given factors the pianist must bear in mind, as well as the limitations of the piano as to colour, if he means to keep clear of dilettanteism and charlatanry. a nice appreciation of the realm over which he rules, as to its boundaries and possibilities, must be the supreme endeavour of every sovereign--hence also of every sovereign musician. now, i hear it so often said of this and that pianist that "he plays with _so_ much feeling" that i cannot help wondering if he does not, sometimes at least, play with "_so_ much feeling" where it is not in the least called for and where "_so_ much feeling" constitutes a decided trespass against the æsthetic boundaries of the composition. my apprehension is usually well founded, for the pianist that plays _everything_ "with so much feeling" is an artist in name only, but in reality a sentimentalist, if not a vulgar sensationalist or a ranter upon the keyboard. what sane pianist would, for instance, attempt to play a cantilena with the same appealing sensuousness as the most mediocre 'cellist can do with the greatest ease? yet many pianists attempt it; but since they are fully aware that they can never attain such ends by legitimate, artistic means, they make either the accompaniment or the rhythm, if not the phrasing, bear the brunt of their palpable dilettanteism. of such illusory endeavours i cannot warn too strongly, for they are bound to destroy the organic relation of the melody to its auxiliaries and to change the musical "physiognomy" of a piece into a--"grimace:" this fault reveals that the pianist's spirit--of adventure--is too willing, but the flesh--of the fingers and their technic--too weak. the artistic and the dilettantic manners of expression must be sharply differentiated. they differ, principally, as follows: the artist knows and feels how far the responsiveness of his instrument, at any particular part of his piece, will allow him to go without violating æsthetics, and without stepping outside of the nature of his instrument. he shapes his rendition of the piece accordingly and practises wise economy in the use of force and in the display of feeling. as to feeling, _per se_, it is the ripe product of a multitude of æsthetic processes which the moment creates and develops; but the artist will keep this product from asserting itself until he has complied with every requirement of artistic _workmanship_; until he has, so to speak, provided a cleanly covered and fully set table upon which these matters of "feeling" appear as finishing, decorative touches, say, as flowers. the dilettante, on the other hand, does not consume any time by thinking and planning; he simply "goes for" his piece and, without bothering about workmanship or squirming around it as best he may, he rambles off into--"feeling," which in his case consists of naught but vague, formless, aimless, and purely sensuous sentimentality. his accompaniment drowns the melody, his rhythm goes on a sympathetic strike, dynamic and other artistic properties become hysterical; no matter, he--"feels"! he builds a house in which the cellar is under the roof and the garret in the basement. let it be said in extenuation of such a player that he is not always and seldom wholly to blame for his wrong-doing. very often he strays from the path of musical rectitude because of his misplaced trust in the judgment of others, which causes him to accept and follow advice in good faith, instead of duly considering its source. for, under certain conditions, the advice of even a connoisseur may be wrong. many professional and well-equipped critics, for instance, fall into the bad habit of expecting that a pianist should tell all he knows in every piece he plays, whether the piano does or does not furnish the opportunities for displaying all his qualities. they expect him to show strength, temperament, passion, poise, sentiment, repose, depth, and so forth, in the first piece on his programme. he must tell his whole story, present himself at once as a "giant" or "titan" of the piano, though the piece may call for naught but tenderness. with this demand, or the alternative of a "roasting," public artists are confronted rather frequently. nor is this, perhaps, as much the fault of the critic as of the conditions under which they must write. from my own experience and that of others i know that the critics in large cities are so overburdened with work during the season that they have seldom time to listen to more than one piece out of a whole recital programme. after such a mere sample they form their opinions--so momentous for the career of a young pianist--and if this one piece happened to offer no opportunities to the pianist to show himself as the "great" so-and-so, why, then he is simply put down as one of the "littlefellows." it is no wonder that such conditions tempt many young aspirants to public renown to resort to æsthetic violence in order to make sure of "good notices"; to use power where it is not called for; to make "feeling" ooze from every pore; to double, treble the tempo or vacillate it out of all rhythm; to violate the boundaries of both the composition and the instrument--and all this for no other purpose than to show as quickly as possible that the various qualities are "all there." these conditions produce what may be called the pianistic nouveau-riche or parvenu, who practises the vices of the dilettante without, however, the mitigating excuse of ignorance or a lack of training. the pianist and the composition as the piano, so has also every composition its limitations as to the range of its emotions and their artistic expression. the hints in this direction i threw out before may now be amplified by discussing a very common error which underlies the matter of conception. it is the error of inferring the conception of a composition _from the name of its composer_; of thinking that beethoven has to be played thus and chopin thus. no error could be greater! true, every great composer has his own style, his habitual mode of thought development, his personality revealing lines. but it is equally true that the imagination of all great composers was strong enough to absorb them as completely in their own creation as the late pygmalion was absorbed in his galatea, and to lure them, for the time being, completely away from their habits of thought and expression; they become the willing servants of the new creature of their own fancy. thus we find some of beethoven's works as romantic and fanciful as any of schumann's or chopin's could be, while some of the latter's works show at times a good deal of beethovenish classicity. it is, therefore, utterly wrong to approach every work of beethoven with the preconceived idea that it must be "deep" and "majestic," or, if the work be chopin's, that it must run over with sensuousness and "feeling." how would such a style of rendition do, for instance, for the polonaise op. 53, or even for the little one in a, op. 40, no. 1? on the other hand, how would the stereotype, academic manner of playing beethoven suit his concerto in g--that poetic presage of chopin? every great master has written some works that are, and some that are not, typical of himself. in the latter cases the master's identity reveals itself only to an eye that is experienced enough to detect it in the smaller, more minute traits of his style. such delicate features, however, must be left in their discreet nooks and niches; they must not be clumsily dragged into the foreground for the sake of a traditional rendition of the piece. that sort of "reverence" is bound to obliterate all the peculiarities of the particular, non-typical composition. it is not reverence, but fetichism. justice to the composer means justice to his works; to every work in particular. and this justice we cannot learn from the reading of his biography, but by regarding every one of his works as a separate and complete entity; as a perfect, organic whole of which we must study the general character, the special features, the form, the manner of design, the emotional course, and the trend of thought. much more than by his biography we will be helped, in forming our conception, by comparing the work in hand with others of the same master, though the comparison may disclose just as many differences of style as it may show similarities. the worship of names, the unquestioning acquiescence in traditional conceptions--those are not the principles which will lead an artist to come into his own. it is rather a close examination of every popular notion, a severe testing of every tradition by the touchstone of self-thinking that will help an artist to find himself and to see, what he does see, with his own eyes. thus we find that--in a certain constructive meaning--even the reverence for the composer is not without boundaries; though these boundary lines are drawn here only to secure the widest possible freedom for their work. goethe's great word expresses most tersely what i mean: outwardly limited, boundless to inward. general rules successful piano-playing, if it cannot be entirely acquired by some very simple rules, can, at least, be very much helped by what will seem to some as contributing causes so slight as to be hardly worth notice. still, they are immensely valuable, and i will endeavour to set down a few. _the value of the morning hour_ above any other time is not generally appreciated. the mental freshness gained from sleep is a tremendous help. i go so far as to say play away for an hour, or a half hour even, before breakfast. but before you touch the piano let me suggest one very prosaic little hint: wash the keyboard as clean as you did your hands. eating always tastes best from a clean table. just so with the piano: you cannot do clean work on an unclean keyboard. _now, as to practice_: let me suggest that you never practise more than an hour, or, at the most, two hours, at a stretch--according to your condition and strength. then go out and take a walk, and think no more of music. this method of mental unhitching, so to speak, is absolutely necessary in order that the newly acquired results of your work may--unconsciously to yourself--mature in your mind and get, as it were, into your flesh and blood. that which you have newly learned must become affixed to your entire organism, very much like the picture on a photographic plate is developed and affixed by the silver bath. if you allow nature no time for this work the result of your previous efforts will vanish and you will have to begin all over again with your--photographing. yes, photographing! for every acoustic or tone picture is, through the agency of the ear, photographed in the brain, and the whole occupation of the pianist consists in the reproduction of the previously received impressions through the fingers, which, with the help of the instrument, retranslate the pictures into audible tones. after every half hour make a pause until you feel rested. five minutes will often be sufficient. follow the example of the painter, who closes his eyes for a few moments in order to obtain upon reopening them a fresh color impression. _a valuable little hint here_, if you will allow me: watch well that you actually hear every tone you mean to produce. every missing tone will mean a blotch upon your photographic plate in the brain. each note must be, not mentally but physically, heard, and to this imperative requirement your speed must ever subordinate itself. it is not at all necessary to practise loudly in order to foster the permanence of impressions. rather let an inward tension take the place of external force. it will engage, sympathetically, your hearing just as well. _as to the theory_--great energy, great results--i prefer my amended version: great energy, restrained power and moderate manifestation of it. prepare the finger for great force, imagine the tone as being strong, and yet strike moderately. continuous loud playing makes our playing coarse. on the other hand, continuous soft playing will blur the tone picture in our mind and cause us soon to play insecurely and wrongly. from time to time we should, of course, practise loudly so as to develop physical endurance. but for the greater part of practice i recommend playing with restrained power. and, incidentally, your neighbours will thank you for it, too. _do not practise systematically_, or "methodically," as it is sometimes called. systematism is the death of spontaneousness, and spontaneousness is the very soul of art. if you play every day at the same time the same sequence of the same studies and the same pieces, you may acquire a certain degree of skill, perhaps, but the spontaneity of your rendition will surely be lost. art belongs to the realm of emotional manifestations, and it stands to reason that a systematic exploiting of our emotional nature must blunt it. _with regard to finger exercises_: do not let them be too frequent or too long--at the most a half hour a day. a half hour daily, kept up for a year, is enough for any one to learn to play one's exercises. and if one can play them why should one keep everlastingly on playing them? can anybody explain, without reflecting upon one's sanity, why one should persist in playing them? i suggest to use these exercises as "preliminary warmers" (as practised in engines). as soon as the hands have become warm and elastic, or pliable--"played in," as we pianists say--drop the exercises and repeat them for the same purpose the next morning, if you will. they can be successfully substituted, however. as compositions they are but lukewarm water. if you will dip your hands, instead, for five minutes into hot water you will follow my own method and find it just as efficacious. _a rule for memory exercises_: if you wish to strengthen the receptivity and retentiveness of your memory you will find the following plan practical: start with a short piece. analyse the form and manner of its texture. play the piece a number of times very exactly with the music before you. then stop playing for several hours and try to trace the course of ideas mentally in the piece. try to hear the piece inwardly. if you have retained some parts refill the missing places by repeated reading of the piece, away from the piano. when next you go to the piano--after several hours, remember--try to play the piece. should you still get "stuck" at a certain place take the sheet music, but play only that place (several times, if necessary), and then begin the piece over again, as a test, if you have better luck this time with those elusive places. if you still fail resume your silent reading of the piece away from the piano. under no circumstances skip the unsafe place for the time being, and proceed with the rest of the piece. by such forcing of the memory you lose the logical development of your piece, tangle up your memory and injure its receptivity. another observation in connection with memorising may find a place here. when we study a piece we--unconsciously--associate in our mind a multitude of things with it which bear not the slightest relation upon it. by these "things" i mean not only the action of the piano, light or heavy, as it may be, but also the colour of its wood, the colour of the wall paper, discoloration of the ivory on some key of the piano, the pictures on the walls, the angle at which the piano stands to the architectural lines of the room, in short, all sorts of things. and we remain utterly unconscious of having associated them with the piece we are studying--until we try to play the well-learned piece in a different place, in the house of a friend or, if we are inexperienced enough to commit such a blunder, in the concert hall. then we find that our memory fails us most unexpectedly, and we blame our memory for its unreliableness. but the fact is rather that our memory was only too good, too exact, for the absence of or difference from our accustomed surroundings disturbed our too precise memory. hence, to make absolutely sure of our memory we should try our piece in a number of different places before relying upon our memory; this will dissociate the wonted environment from the piece in our memory. _with regard to technical work_: play good compositions and construe out of them your own technical exercises. in nearly every piece you play you will find a place or two of which your conscience tells you that they are not up to your own wishes; that they can be improved upon either from a rhythmical, dynamical or precisional point of view. give these places the preference for a while, but do not fail to play from time to time again the whole piece in order to put the erstwhile defective and now repaired part into proper relation to its context. remember that a difficult part may "go" pretty well when severed from its context and yet fail utterly when attempted in its proper place. you must follow the mechanic in this. if a part of a machine is perfected in the shop it must still go through the process of being "mounted"--that is, being brought into proper relation to the machine itself--and this often requires additional packing or filing, as the case may be. this "mounting" of a repaired part is done best by playing it in conjunction with one preceding and one following measure; then put two measures on each side, three, four, etc., until you feel your ground safely under your fingers. not until then have you achieved your purpose of technical practice. the mere mastering of a difficulty _per se_ is no guarantee of success whatever. many students play certain compositions for years, and yet when they are asked to play them the evidences of imperfection are so palpable that they cannot have finished the learning of them. the strong probability is that they never will finish the "study" of them, because they do not study right. _as to the number of pieces_: the larger the number of good compositions you are able to play in a finished manner, the better grow your opportunities to develop your versatility of style; for in almost every good composition you will find some traits peculiar to itself only which demand an equally special treatment. to keep as many pieces as possible in your memory and in good technical condition, play them a few times each week. do not play them, however, in consecutive repetitions. take one after the other. after the last piece is played the first one will appear fresh again to your mind. this process i have tested and found very helpful in maintaining a large repertory. [illustration: _the position of the hand_] _play always with the fingers_--that is, move your arms as little as possible and hold them--and the shoulder muscles--quite loosely. the hands should be nearly horizontal, with a slight inclination from the elbows toward the keys. bend the fingers gently and endeavour to touch the keys in their centre and with the tips of the fingers. this will tend toward sureness and give eyes to your fingers, so to speak. _the practice of finger octaves_: play octaves first as if you were playing single notes with one finger of each hand. lift the thumb and fifth finger rather high and let them fall upon the keys without using the wrist. later let the wrist come to your aid, sometimes even the arm and shoulder muscles, though the latter should both be reserved for places requiring great power. where powerful octaves occur in long continuation it is best to distribute the work over the joints and muscles of the fingers, wrists, and shoulders. with a rational distribution each of the joints will avoid over-fatigue and the player will gain in endurance. this applies, of course, only to bravura passages. in places where musical characteristics predominate the player does best to choose whichever of these sources of touch seems most appropriate. [illustration: _incorrect way to play an octave_] [illustration: _correct way to play an octave_] [illustration: _photograph by byron_ _incorrect position of little finger_] [illustration: _correct position of little finger_] _about using the pedal_: beware of too frequent and--above all--of long-continued use of the pedal. it is the mortal enemy of clarity. judiciously, however, you should use it when you study a new work, for if you accustom yourself to play a work without the pedal the habit of non-pedalling will grow upon you, and you will be surprised to find later how your feet can be in the way of your fingers. do not delay the use of the pedal as if it were the dessert after a repast. _never play with a metronome_: you may use a metronome for a little passage as a test of your ability to play the passage in strict time. when you see the result, positive or negative, stop the machine at once. for according to the metronome a really musical rhythm is unrhythmical--and, on the other hand, the keeping of absolutely strict time is thoroughly unmusical and deadlike. you should endeavour to reproduce the sum-total of the time which a musical thought occupies. within its scope, however, you must vary your beats in accordance with their musical significance. this constitutes in musical interpretation what i call the individual pulse-beat which imparts life to the dead, black notes. beware, however, of being too "individual"! avoid exaggeration, or else your patient will grow feverish and all æsthetic interpretation goes to the happy hunting grounds! _the correct posture at the piano_: sit straight before the piano but not stiff. have both feet upon the pedals, so as to be at any moment ready to use them. all other manners to keep the feet are--bad manners. let your hand fall with the arm upon the keyboard when you start a phrase, and observe a certain roundness in all the motions of your arms and hands. avoid angles and sharp bends, for they produce strong frictions in the joints, which means a waste of force and is bound to cause premature fatigue. _do not attend poor concerts._ do not believe that you can learn correct vision from the blind, nor that you can really profit by hearing how a piece should _not_ be played, and then trying the reverse. the danger of getting accustomed to poor playing is very great. what would you think of a parent who deliberately sent his child into bad company in order that such child should learn how _not_ to behave? such experiments are dangerous. by attending poor concerts you encourage the bungler to continue in his crimes against good taste and artistic decency, and you become his accomplice. besides, you help to lower the standard of appreciation in your community, which may sink so low that good concerts will cease to be patronised. if you desire that good concerts should be given in your city the least you can do is to withhold your patronage from bad ones. if you are doubtful as to the merits of a proposed concert ask your own or your children's music teacher. he will appreciate your confidence and be glad of the opportunity to serve you for once in a musical matter that lies on a higher plane than your own or your children's music lesson. _to those who play in public_ i should like to say this: before you have played a composition in public two or three times you must not expect that every detail of it shall go according to your wishes. do not be surprised at little unexpected occurrences. consider that the acoustic properties of the various halls constitute a serious danger to the musician. bad humor on your part, or a slight indisposition, even a clamlike audience, puritanically austere or cool from diffidence--all these things can be overcome; but the acoustic properties remain the same from the beginning of your programme to its end, and if they are not a kindly counsellor they turn into a fiendish demon who sneers to death your every effort to produce noble-toned pictures. therefore, try to ascertain, as early as possible, what sort of an architectural stomach your musical feast is to fill, and then--well, do the best you can. approach the picture you hold in your mind as nearly as circumstances permit. _when i find bad acoustics in a hall._ an important medium of rectifying the acoustic misbehaviour of a hall i have found in the pedal. in some halls my piano has sounded as if i had planted my feet on the pedal for good and ever; in such cases i practised the greatest abstention from pedalling. it is a fact that we have to treat the pedal differently in almost every hall to insure the same results. i know that a number of books have been written on the use of the pedal, but they are theories which tumble down before the first adverse experience on the legitimate concert stage. there you can lean on nothing but experience. _about reading books on music._ and speaking of books on music, let me advise you to read them, but not to believe them unless they support every statement with an argument, and unless this argument succeeds in convincing you. in art we deal far oftener with exceptions than with rules and laws. every genius in art has demonstrated in his works the forefeeling of new laws, and every succeeding one has done by his precursors as his successors have in their turn done by him. hence all theorising in art must be problematic and precarious, while dogmatising in art amounts to absurdity. music is a language--the language of the musical, whatever and wherever be their country. let each one, then, speak in his own way, as he thinks and feels, provided he is sincere. tolstoi put the whole thing so well when he said: "there are only three things of real importance in the world. they are: sincerity! sincerity! sincerity!" correct touch and technic great finger technic may be defined as extreme precision and great speed in the action of the fingers. the latter quality, however, can never be developed without the legato touch. i am convinced that the degree of perfection of finger technic is exactly proportionate to the development of the legato touch. the process of the non-legato touch, by showing contrary results, will bear me out. to play a rapid run non-legato will consume much more time than to play it legato because of the lifting of the fingers between the tones. in playing legato the fingers are not lifted off the keys, but--hardly losing contact with the ivory--glide sideways to the right or the left as the notes may call for it. this, naturally, saves both time and exertion, and thus allows an increase of speed. how is the true legato accomplished? by the gliding motion just mentioned, and by touching the next following key before the finger which played last has fully abandoned its key. to illustrate, let me say that in a run of single notes two fingers are simultaneously at work--the "played" and the "playing" one; in runs of double notes (thirds, sixths, etc.) the number of simultaneously employed fingers is, analogously, four. only in this manner is a true legato touch to be attained. while the fingers are in action the hand must not move lest it produce gaps between the succeeding tones, causing not only a breaking of the connection between them but also a lessening of speed. the transfer of the hand should take place only when the finger is already in touch with the key that is to follow--not at the time of contact, still less before. the selection of a practical fingering is, of course, of paramount importance for a good legato touch. in attempting a run without a good fingering we will soon find ourselves "out of fingers." in that emergency we should have to resort to "piecing on," and this means a jerk at every instance--equal to a non-legato. a correct fingering is one which permits the longest natural sequel of fingers to be used without a break. by earnest thinking every player can contrive the fingering that will prove most convenient to him. but, admitting that the great diversity of hands prohibits a universal fingering, all the varieties of fingering ought to be based upon the principle of a natural sequel. if a player be puzzled by certain configurations of notes and keys as to the best fingering for them, he ought to consult a teacher, who, if a good one, will gladly help him out. precision, the other component part of finger technic, is intimately related with the player's general sense of orderliness. as a matter of fact, precision is orderliness in the technical execution of a musical prescription. if the student will but look quite closely at the piece he is learning; if he has the patience to repeat a difficult place in it a hundred times if necessary--and correctly, of course--he will soon acquire the trait of precision and he will experience the resultant increase in his technical ability. mental technic presupposes the ability to form a clear inward conception of a run without resorting to the fingers at all. since every action of a finger has first to be determined upon by the mind, a run should be completely prepared mentally before it is tried on the piano. in other words, the student should strive to acquire the ability to form the tonal picture in his mind, rather than the note picture. the tonal picture dwells in our imagination. this acts upon the responsive portions of the brain, influences them according to its own intensity, and this influence is then transferred to the motoric nerve-centres which are concerned in music-making. as far as known this is the course by which the musician converts his musical concept into a tonal reality. hence, when studying a new work, it is imperative that a tonal picture of perfect clarity should be prepared in the mind before the mechanical (or technical) practicing begins. in the earlier stages of cultivating this trait it will be best to ask the teacher to play the piece for us, and thus to help us in forming a correct tonal picture in our mind. the blurring of the tonal picture produces a temporary (don't get frightened!) paralysis of the motoric centres which control the fingers. every pianist knows--unfortunately--the sensation of having his fingers begin to "stick" as if the keys were covered with flypaper, and he knows, also, that this sensation is but a warning that the fingers are going on a general and even "sympathetic" strike--sympathetic, because even the momentarily unconcerned fingers participate in it. now the cause of this sensation lies not in a defective action of the fingers themselves, but solely in the mind. it is there that some undesired change has taken place, a change which impairs the action of the fingers. the process is like this: by quick repetitions of complicated figures, slight errors, slips, flaws escape our notice; the more quick repetitions we make the larger will be the number of these tiny blots, and this must needs lead finally to a completely distorted tonal picture. this distortion, however, is not the worst feature. inasmuch as we are very likely not to make the same little blunders at every repetition the tonal picture becomes confused, blurred. the nerve contacts which cause the fingers to act become undecided first, then they begin to fail more and more, until they cease altogether and the fingers--stick! at such a juncture the student should at once resort to slow practice. he should play the defective place clearly, orderly, and, above all, slowly, and persist in this course until the number of correct repetitions proves sufficient to crowd the confused tonal picture out of the mind. this is not to be regarded as mechanical practice, for it is intended for the rehabilitation of a disarranged or disturbed mental concept. i trust this will speak for the practice of what i called "mental technic." make the mental tonal picture sharp; the fingers must and will obey it. [illustration: _incorrect position of thumb_] [illustration: _correct position of thumb_] we are sometimes affected by "thought-laziness"--i translate this word literally from other languages, because it is a good compound for which i can find no better equivalent in english. whenever we find the fingers going astray in the piece we play we might as well admit to ourselves that the trouble is in the main office. the mysterious controlling officer has been talking with a friend instead of attending to business. the mind was not keeping step with the fingers. we have relied on our automatism; we allowed the fingers to run on and the mind lagged behind, instead of being, as it should be, ahead of the fingers, preparing their work. quick musical thinking, the importance of which is thus apparent, cannot be developed by any direct course. it is one of the by-products of the general widening of one's musical horizon. it is ever proportionate to the growth of one's other musical faculties. it is the result of elasticity of the mind acquired or developed by constant, never-failing, unremitting employment whenever we are at the piano. a procedure tending directly toward developing quick musical thinking is, therefore, not necessary. the musical will has its roots in the natural craving for musical utterance. it is the director-in-chief of all that is musical in us. hence i recognise in the purely technical processes of piano-playing no less a manifestation of the musical will. but a technic without a musical will is a faculty without a purpose, and when it becomes a purpose in itself it can never serve art. the use of the pedal to speak in a concrete manner of the pedal is possible only on the basis of a complete understanding of the fundamental principle underlying its use. the reader must agree to the governing theory that the organ which governs the employment of the pedal is--the ear! as the eye guides the fingers when we read music, so must the ear be the guide--and the "sole" guide--of the foot upon the pedal. the foot is merely the servant, the executive agent, while the ear is the guide, the judge, and the final criterion. if there is any phase in piano-playing where we should remember particularly that music is for the ear it is in the treatment of the pedal. hence, whatever is said here in the following lines with regard to the pedal must be understood as resting upon the basis of this principle. as a general rule i recommend pressing the lever or treadle down with a quick, definite, full motion and always immediately after--mark me, after--the striking of the keys, never simultaneously with the stroke of the fingers, as so many erroneously assume and do. to prevent a cacophonous mixture of tones we should consider that we must stop the old tone before we can give pedal to the new one, and that, in order to make the stopping of the past tone perfect, we must allow the damper to press upon the vibrating strings long enough to do its work. if, however, we tread down exactly with the finger-stroke we simply inhibit this stopping, because the damper in question is lifted again before it has had time to fall down. (in speaking of the dampers as moving up and down i have in mind the action of the "grand" piano; in the upright piano the word "off" must be substituted for "up," and "on" for "down.") this rule will work in a vast majority of cases, but like every rule--especially in art--it will be found to admit of many exceptions. [illustration: _photograph by byron_ _incorrect position of the feet_] [illustration: _photograph by byron_ _correct position of the feet on the pedal_] _harmonic clarity in pedalling is the basis_, but it is only the basis; it is not all that constitutes an artistic treatment of the pedal. in spite of what i have just said above there are in many pieces moments where a blending of tones, seemingly foreign to one another, is a means of characterisation. this blending is especially permissible when the passing (foreign) tones are more than one octave removed from the lowest tone and from the harmony built upon it. in this connection it should be remembered that the pedal is not merely a means of tone prolongation but also a means of colouring--and pre-eminently that. what is generally understood by the term piano-charm is to the greatest extent produced by an artistic use of the pedal. for instance, great accent effects can be produced by the gradual accumulating of tone-volume through the pedal and its sudden release on the accented point. the effect is somewhat like that which we hear in the orchestra when a crescendo is supported by a roll of the drum or tympani making the last tap on the accented point. and, as i am mentioning the orchestra, i may illustrate by the french horns another use of the pedal: where the horns do not carry the melody (which they do relatively seldom) they are employed to support sustained harmonies, and their effect is like a glazing, a binding, a unifying of the various tone-colours of the other instruments. just such a glazing is produced by the judicious use of the pedal, and when, in the orchestra, the horns cease and the strings proceed alone there ensues a certain soberness of tone which we produce in the piano by the release and non-use of the pedal. in the former instance, while the horns were active they furnished the harmonic background upon which the thematic development of the musical picture proceeded; in the latter case, when the horns cease the background is taken away and the thematic configurations stand out--so to speak--against the sky. hence, the pedal gives to the piano tone that unifying, glazing, that finish--though this is not exactly the word here--which the horns or softly played trombones give to the orchestra. _but the pedal can do more than that._ at times we can produce strange, glasslike effects by purposely mixing non-harmonic tones. i only need to hint at some of the fine, embroidery-like cadenzas in chopin's works, like the one in his e-minor concerto (andante, measures 101, 102, and 103). such blendings are productive of a multitude of effects, especially when we add the agency of dynamic gradation: effects suggestive of winds from zephyr to boreas, of the splash and roar of waves, of fountain-play, of rustling leaves, etc. this mode of blending can be extended also to entire harmonies in many cases where one fundamental chord is to predominate for some time while other chords may pass in quicker succession while it lasts. in such cases it is by no means imperative to abandon the pedal; we need only to establish various dynamic levels and place the ruling harmony on a higher level than the passing ones. in other words, the predominating chord must receive so much force that it can outlast all those briefer ones which, though audible, must die of their own weakness, and while the strong, ruling chord was constantly disturbed by the weaker ones it also re-established its supremacy with the death of every weaker one which it outlasted. this use of the pedal has its limitations in the evanescent nature of the tone of the piano. that moment when the blending of non-harmonic tones imperils the tonal beauty of the piece in hand can be determined solely and exclusively by the player's own ear, and here we are once more at the point from which this article started, namely: that the ear is governor, and that it alone can decide whether or not there is to be any pedal. it were absurd to assume that we can greatly please the ear of others by our playing so long as our own ear is not completely satisfied. we should, therefore, endeavour to train the susceptibility of our ear, and we should ever make it more difficult to gain the assent of our own ear than to gain that of our auditors. they may, apparently, not notice defects in your playing, but at this juncture i wish to say a word of serious warning: do not confound unmindfulness with consent! to hear ourselves play--that is, to listen to our own playing--is the bed-rock basis of all music-making and also, of course, of the technic of the pedal. therefore, listen carefully, attentively to the tones you produce. when you employ the pedal as a prolongation of the fingers (to sustain tones beyond the reach of the fingers), see to it that you catch, and hold, the fundamental tone of your chord, for this tone must be always your chief consideration. _whether you use the pedal as a means of mere prolongation_ or as a medium of colouring, under no circumstances use it as a cloak for imperfection of execution. for, like charity, it is apt to be made to cover a multitude of sins; but, again like charity, who wants to make himself dependent upon it, when honest work can prevent it? nor should the pedal be used to make up for a deficiency of force. to produce a forte is the business of the fingers (with or without the aid of the arm) but not of the pedal, and this holds true also--_mutatis mutandis_--of the left pedal, for which the germans use a word (_verschiebung_) denoting something like "shifting." in a "grand" piano the treading of the left pedal shifts the hammers so far to one side that instead of striking three strings they will strike only two. (in the pianos of fifty and more years ago there were only two strings to each tone, and when the hammers were shifted by the treading of the left pedal they struck only one string. from those days we have retained the term "_una corda_"--one string.) in an upright piano the lessening of tone-volume is produced by a lessening of the momentum of the hammer stroke. now, as the right pedal should not be used to cover a lack of force, so should the left pedal not be regarded as a licence to neglect the formation of a fine _pianissimo_ touch. it should not cloak or screen a defective _pianissimo_, but should serve exclusively as a means of colouring where the softness of tone is coupled with what the jewellers call "dull finish." for the left pedal does not soften the tone without changing its character; it lessens the quantity of tone but at the same time it also markedly affects the quality. to _sum up_: train your ear and then use both pedals honestly! use them for what they were made. remember that even screens are not used for hiding things behind them, but for decorative purposes or for protection. those who do use them for hiding something must have something which they prefer to hide! playing "in style" by playing a piece of music "in style" is understood a rendition which does absolute justice to its contents in regard to the manner of expression. now, the true manner of expression must be sought and found for each piece individually, even though a number of different pieces may be written by one and the same composer. our first endeavour should be to search out the peculiarity of the piece in hand rather than that of the composer in general. if you have succeeded in playing one work by chopin in style, it does not follow, by any means, that you can play equally well any other work from his pen. though on general lines his manner of writing may be the same in all his works, there will, nevertheless, be marked differences between the various pieces. only by careful study of each work by itself can we find the key to its correct conception and rendition. we will never find it in books about the composer, nor in such as treat of his works, but only in the works themselves and in each one _per se_. people who study a lot of things about a work of art may possibly enrich their general knowledge, but they never can get that specific knowledge needful for the interpretation of the particular work in hand. its own contents alone can furnish that knowledge. we know from frequent experience that book-learned musicians (or, as they are now called, musicologists) usually read everything in sight, and yet their playing rises hardly ever above mediocre dilettanteism. why should we look for a correct conception of a piece anywhere but in the piece itself? surely the composer has embodied in the piece all he knew and felt when he wrote it. why, then, not listen to his specific language instead of losing our way in the terms of another art? literature is literature, and music is music. they may combine, as in song, but one can never be substituted for the other. _many students never learn_ to understand a composer's specific language because their sole concern is to make the piece "effective" in the sense of a clever stunt. this tendency is most deplorable; for there really does exist a specifically musical language. by purely material means: through notes, pauses, dynamic and other signs, through special annotations, etc., the composer encloses in his work the whole world of his imagination. the duty of the interpretative artist is to extract from these material things the spiritual essence and to transmit it to his hearers. to achieve this he must understand this musical language in general and of each composition in particular. but--how is this language to be learned? by conning with careful attentiveness--and, of course, absorbing--the purely material matter of a piece: the notes, pauses, time values, dynamic indications, etc. if a player be scrupulously exact in his mere reading of a piece it will, of itself, lead him to understand a goodly portion of the piece's specific language. nay, more! through a really correct conning the player is enabled to determine upon the points of repose as well as upon the matter of climax, and thus to create a basis for the operations of his own imagination. after that, nothing remains but to call forth into tonal life, through the fingers, what his musical intelligence has grasped--which is a purely technical task. to transform the purely technical and material processes into a thing that lives, of course, rests with the natural, emotional, temperamental endowments of the individual; it rests with those many and complex qualities which are usually summarised by the term "talent," but this must be presupposed with a player who aspires to artistic work. on the other hand, talent alone cannot lift the veil that hides the spiritual content of a composition if its possessor neglects to examine the latter carefully as to its purely material ingredients. he may flatter the ear, sensuously speaking, but he can never play the piece in style. _now how can we know_ whether we are or are not approaching the spiritual phase of a piece? by repetition under unremitting attention to the written values. if, then, you should find how much there is still left for you to do, you have proved to yourself that you have understood the piece spiritually and are on the right track to master it. with every repetition you will discover some hitherto unnoticed defect in your interpretation. obviate these defects, one by one, and in so doing you will come nearer and nearer to the spiritual essence of the work in hand. as to the remaining "purely technical task" (as i said before), it must not be underestimated! to transmit one's matured conception to one's auditors requires a considerable degree of mechanical skill, and this skill, in its turn, must be under absolute control of the will. of course--after the foregoing--this does not mean that everybody who has a good and well-controlled technic can interpret a piece in style. remember that to possess wealth is one thing, to put it to good use is quite another. it is sometimes said that the too objective study of a piece may impair the "individuality" of its rendition. have no fear of that! if ten players study the same piece with the same high degree of exactness and objectivity--depend upon it: each one will still play it quite differently from the nine others, though each one may think his rendition the only correct one. for each one will express what, according to his lights, he has mentally and temperamentally absorbed. of the distinctive feature which constitutes the difference in the ten conceptions each one will have been unconscious while it formed itself, and perhaps also afterward. but it is just this unconsciously formed feature which constitutes legitimate individuality and which alone will admit of a real fusion of the composer's and the interpreter's thought. a purposed, blatant parading of the player's dear self through wilful additions of nuances, shadings, effects, and what not, is tantamount to a falsification; at best it is "playing to the galleries," charlatanism. the player should always feel convinced that he plays only what is written. to the auditor, who with his own and different intelligence follows the player's performance, the piece will appear in the light of the player's individuality. the stronger this is the more it will colour the performance, when unconsciously admixed. _rubinstein often said to me_: "just play first exactly what is written; if you have done full justice to it and then still feel like adding or changing anything, why, do so." mind well: after you have done full justice to what is written! how few are those who fulfil this duty! i venture to prove to any one who will play for me--if he be at all worth listening to--that he does not play more than is written (as he may think), but, in fact, a good deal less than the printed page reveals. and this is one of the principal causes of misunderstanding the esoteric portion, the inherent "style" of a piece--a misunderstanding which is not always confined to amateurs--inexact reading! the true interpretation of a piece of music results from a correct understanding of it, and this, in turn, depends solely upon scrupulously exact reading. _learn the language of music_, then, i repeat, through exact reading! you will then soon fathom the musical meaning of a composition and transmit it intelligibly to your listeners. would you satisfy your curiosity as to what manner of person the author is or was at the time of writing, you may do so. but--as i said in the "foreword"--your chief interest should centre in the "composition," not in the "composer," for only by studying his work will you be enabled to play it in style. how rubinstein taught me to play outside of the regular students of the imperial conservatory of music at st. petersburg, rubinstein accepted but one pupil. the advantage and privilege to be that one pupil was mine. i came to rubinstein when i was sixteen years old and left him at eighteen. since that time i have studied only by myself; for to whom could i have gone after rubinstein? his very manner of teaching was such that it would have made any other teacher appear to me like a schoolmaster. he chose the method of indirect instruction through suggestive comparisons. he touched upon the strictly musical only upon rare occasions. in this way he wished to awaken within me the concretely musical as a parallel of his generalisations and thereby preserve my musical individuality. he never played for me. he only talked, and i, understanding him, translated his meaning into music and musical utterances. sometimes, for instance, when i played the same phrase twice in succession, and played it both times alike (say in a sequence), he would say: "in fine weather you may play it as you did, but when it rains play it differently." rubinstein was much given to whims and moods, and he often grew enthusiastic about a certain conception only to prefer a different one the next day. yet he was always logical in his art, and though he aimed at hitting the nail from various points of view he always hit it on the head. thus he never permitted me to bring to him, as a lesson, any composition more than once. he explained this to me once by saying that he might forget in the next lesson what he told me in the previous one, and by drawing an entirely new picture only confuse my mind. nor did he ever permit me to bring one of his own works, though he never explained to me his reason for this singular attitude. [illustration: _anton rubinstein_] [illustration: _how rubinstein taught me to play_] usually, when i came to him, arriving from berlin, where i lived, i found him seated at his writing-desk, smoking russian cigarettes. he lived at the hôtel de l'europe. after a kindly salute he would always ask me the same question: "well, what is new in the world?" i remember replying to him: "i know nothing new; that's why i came to learn something new--from you." rubinstein, understanding at once the musical meaning of my words, smiled, and the lesson thus promised to be a fine one. i noticed he was usually not alone when i came, but had as visitors several elderly ladies, sometimes very old ladies (mostly russians), and some young girls--seldom any men. with a wave of his hand he directed me to the piano in the corner, a bechstein, which was most of the time shockingly out of tune; but to this condition of his piano he was always serenely indifferent. he would remain at his desk studying the notes of the work while i played. he always compelled me to bring the pieces along, insisting that i should play everything just as it was written! he would follow every note of my playing with his eyes riveted on the printed pages. a pedant he certainly was, a stickler for the letter--incredibly so, especially when one considered the liberties he took when he played the same works! once i called his attention modestly to this seeming paradox, and he answered: "when you are as old as i am now you may do as i do--if you can." once i played a liszt rhapsody pretty badly. after a few moments he said: "the way you played this piece would be all right for auntie or mamma." then rising and coming toward me he would say: "now let us see how we play such things." then i would begin all over again, but hardly had i played a few measures when he would interrupt and say: "did you start? i thought i hadn't heard right----" "yes, master, i certainly did," i would reply. "oh," he would say vaguely. "i didn't notice." "how do you mean?" i would ask. "i mean this," he would answer: "before your fingers touch the keys you must begin the piece mentally--that is, you must have settled in your mind the _tempo_, the manner of touch, and, above all, the attack of the first notes, before your actual playing begins. and by-the-bye, what is the character of this piece? is it dramatic, tragic, lyric, romantic, humourous, heroic, sublime, mystic--what? well, why don't you speak?" generally i would mutter something after such a tirade, but usually i said something stupid because of the awe with which he inspired me. finally, after trying several of his suggested designations i would hit it right. then he would say: "well, there we are at last! humourous, is it? very well! and rhapsodical, irregular--hey? you understand the meaning?" i would answer, "yes." "very well, then," he would reply; "now prove it." and then i would begin all over again. he would stand at my side, and whenever he wanted a special stress laid upon a certain note his powerful fingers would press upon my left shoulder with such force that i would stab the keys till the piano fairly screamed for me. when this did not have the effect he was after he would simply press his whole hand upon mine, flattening it out and spreading it like butter all over the keys, black and white ones, creating a frightful cacophony. then he would say, almost with anger, "but cleaner, cleaner, cleaner," as if the discord had been of my doing. such occurrences did not lack a humourous side, but their turn into the tragical always hung by a hair, especially if i had tried to explain or to make excuses. so i generally kept silent, and i found, after some experience, that was the only proper thing for me to do. for just as quickly as he would flare up he would also calm down again, and when the piece was ended i would hear his usual comment: "you are an excellent young man!" and how quickly was all pain then forgotten! i remember on one occasion that i played schubert-liszt's "erl-könig." when i came to the place in the composition where the erl-king says to the child, "thou dear, sweet child, oh, come with me," and i had played several false notes besides very poor arpeggios, rubinstein asked me: "do you know the text at this place?" as a reply i quoted the words. "very well, then," he said, "the erl-king addresses the child; erl-king is a spirit, a ghost--so play this place in a spiritlike way, ghostly, if you will, but not ghastly with false notes!" i had to laugh at his word-play and rubinstein himself chimed in, and the piece was saved, or rather the player. for when i repeated that particular part it went very well, and he allowed me to continue without further interruption. once i asked him for the fingering of a rather complex passage. "play it with your nose," he replied, "but make it sound well!" this remark puzzled me, and there i sat and wondered what he meant. as i understand it now he meant: help yourself! the lord helps those who help themselves! as i said before, rubinstein never played for me the works i had to study. he explained, analysed, elucidated everything that he wanted me to know; but, this done, he left me to my own judgment, for only then, he would explain, would my achievement be my own and incontestable property. i learned from rubinstein in this way the valuable truth that the conception of tone-pictures obtained through the playing of another gives us only transient impressions; they come and go, while the self-created conception will last and remain our own. now, when i look back upon my study-days with rubinstein, i can see that he did not so much instruct me as that i learned from him. he was not a pedagogue in the usual meaning of that word. he indicated to me an altitude offering a fine view, but how i was to get up there was my affair; he did not bother about it. "play with your nose!" yes--but when i bumped it till it fairly bled where would i get the metaphorical handkerchief? in my imagination! and he was right. to be sure, this method would not work with all pupils, but it is nevertheless well calculated to develop a student's original thought and bring out whatever acumen he may possess. if such a one succeeded by his own study and mental force to reach the desired point which the great magician's wizardry had made him see, he had gained the reliance in his own strength: he felt sure that he would always find that point again--even though he should lose his way once or twice, as every one with an honest aspiration is liable to do. i recall that rubinstein once said to me: "do you know why piano-playing is so difficult? because it is prone to be either affected or else afflicted with mannerisms; and when these two pitfalls are luckily avoided then it is liable to be--dry! the truth lies between those three mischiefs!" when it was settled that i should make my hamburg début under his baton with his own d-minor concerto, i thought the time had come at last to study with him one of his own works. so i proposed it, but rubinstein disposed of it! i still see him, as if it were but yesterday, seated in the greenroom of the berlin philharmonic during an intermission in his concert (it was on a saturday) and telling me: "we shall appear together in hamburg on monday." the time was short, but i knew the concerto and hoped to go through it with him some time in the remaining two days. i asked his permission to play the concerto for him, but he declined my urgent request, saying: "it is not necessary; we understand each other!" and even in this critical moment he left me to my own resources. after the last (and only) rehearsal the great master embraced me before the whole orchestra, and i--well, i was not in the seventh, but in the "eighth" heaven! everything was all right, i said to myself, for rubinstein, rubinstein was satisfied! the public simply had to be! the concert went off splendidly. after that memorable début in hamburg, which was on march 14, 1894, i went directly to see rubinstein, little dreaming that my eyes would then see him for the last time. i brought with me a large photograph of himself, and, though fully aware of his unconquerable aversion to autographing, my desire for the possession of his signature overruled my reluctance and i made my request. he raised both fists and thundered, half-angry and half-laughing: "_et tu, brute?_" but my wish was granted, and i reproduce the portrait in this article. then i asked him when i should play for him again, and to my consternation he answered: "never!" in my despair i asked him: "why not?" he, generous soul that he was, then said to me: "my dear boy, i have told you all i know about legitimate piano-playing and music-making"--and then changing his tone somewhat he added: "and if you don't know it _yet_, why, go to the devil!" i saw only too well that while he smiled as he said it he meant it seriously, and i left him. i never saw rubinstein again. soon after that he returned to his villa in peterhof, near st. petersburg, and there he died on november 19, 1894. the effect that his death had upon me i shall never forget. the world appeared suddenly entirely empty to me, devoid of any interest. my grief made me realise how my heart had worshipped not only the artist in him but also the man; how i loved him as if he were my father. i learned of his death through the english papers while i was _en route_ from london to cheltenham, where i was booked for a recital on the twentieth. the b-flat minor sonata by chopin happened to be on the programme, and as i struck the first notes of the funeral march the whole audience rose from their seats as if by command and remained standing with bowed heads during the whole piece--in honour of the great departed. a singular coincidence occurred at my concert on the preceding day--the day of rubinstein's death. on this day i played for the first time in public after my seven years' retirement (excepting my hamburg début). it was in london. in this concert i played, as a novelty, a polonaise in e-flat minor which rubinstein had but recently written in dresden and dedicated to me. he had included it in the set called "souvenirs de dresde." this piece has throughout the character of a funeral march in all but the time-division. little did i dream while i was playing it that day that i was singing him into his eternal rest, for it was but a few hours later that, in the far east of europe, my great master passed away, suddenly, of heart failure. two years later i played this same polonaise for the second and last time. it was on the anniversary of his death, in st. petersburg, where in honour of his memory i gave a recital, the proceeds of which i devoted to the rubinstein fund. since then i have played this piece only once, at home and to myself, excluding it entirely from my public répertoire. for, though it was dedicated to me, the time and circumstances of its initial performance always made me feel as if it still belonged to my master, or, at best, as if it were something personal and private between us two. indispensables in pianistic success i "the indispensables in pianistic success? are not the indispensables in all success very much the same? nothing can take the place of real worth. this is especially true of america, in which country i have lived longer than in any other, and which i am glad to call my home. americans are probably the most traveled people of the world, and it is futile to offer them anything but the best. some years ago a conductor brought to this country an orchestra of second-class character, with the idea that the people would accept it just because it bore the name of a famous european city which possessed one of the great orchestras of the world. it was a good orchestra, but there were better orchestras in american cities, and it took american audiences just two concerts to find this out, resulting in a disastrous failure, which the conductor was man enough to face and personally defray. the american people know the best, and will have nothing but the best. therefore, if you would make a list of the indispensables of pianistic success in this country at this time you must put at the head of your list, real worth. "naturally, one of the first indispensables would include what many term 'the musical gift.' however, this is often greatly misunderstood. we are, happily, past the time when music was regarded as a special kind of divine dispensation, which, by its very possession, robbed the musician of any claim to possible excellence in other lines. in other words, music was so special a gift that it was even thought by some misguided people to isolate the musician from the world--to make him a thing apart and different from other men and women of high aspirations and attainments. "it is true that there have been famous prodigies in mathematics, and in games such as chess, who have given evidence of astonishing prowess in their chosen work, but who, at the same time, seem to have been lamentably under-developed in many other ways. this is not the case in music at this day at least, for, although a special love for music and a special quickness in mastering musical problems are indispensable, yet the musicians are usually men and women of broad cultural development if they desire it and are willing to work for it. "nor can i concede that a very finely developed sense of hearing is in all cases essential. the possession of what is known as absolute pitch, which so many seem to think is a sure indication of musical genius, is often a nuisance. schumann did not possess it, and (unless i am incorrectly informed) wagner did not have absolute pitch. i have it, and can, i believe, distinguish differences of an eighth of a tone. i find it more disturbing than beneficial. my father had absolute pitch in remarkable fashion. he seemed to have extremely acute ears. indeed, it was often impossible for him to identify a well-known composition if he heard it played in a different key--it sounded so different to him. mozart had absolute pitch, but music, in his day, was far less complicated. we now live in an age of melodic and contrapuntal intricacy, and i do not believe that the so-called acute sense of hearing, or highly developed sense of absolute pitch, has very much to do with one's real musical ability. the physical hearing is nothing; the spiritual hearing--if one may say so--is what really counts. if, in transposing, for instance, one has associated the contents of a piece so closely with its corresponding tonality that it is hard to play in any other tonality, this constitutes a difficulty--not an advantage. ii "too much cannot be said about the advantage of an early drill. the impressions made during youth seem to be the most lasting. i am certain that the pieces that i learned before i was ten years of age remain more persistently in my memory than the compositions i studied after i was thirty. the child who is destined for a musical career should receive as much musical instruction in early life as is compatible with the child's health and receptivity. to postpone the work too long is just as dangerous to the child's career as it is dangerous to overload the pupil with more work than his mind and body can absorb. children learn far more rapidly than adults--not merely because of the fact that the work becomes more and more complicated as the student advances, but also because the child mind is so vastly more receptive. the child's power of absorption in music study between the ages of eight and twelve is simply enormous; it is less between twelve and twenty; still less between twenty and thirty, and often lamentably small between thirty and forty. it might be represented by some such diagram as: -------------------------------------------------------------- 30 to 40 years of age limited receptivity limited results -------------------------------------------------------------- 20 to 30 } still less accomplishment years of age } -------------------------------------------------------------- 12 to 20 } less accomplishment years of age } -------------------------------------------------------------- 8 to 12 } years } greatest receptivity of } greatest accomplishment age } --------------------------------------------------------------"of course, these lines are only comparative, and there are exceptional cases of astonishing development late in life, due to enormous ambition and industry. yet the period of highest achievement is usually early in life. this is especially true in the arts where digital skill is concerned. "all teachers are aware of the need for the best possible drill early in life. the idea one so often hears expressed in america: 'since my daughter is only beginning her studies--any teacher will do,' has been the source of great laxity in american musical education. if the father who has such an idea would only transpose the same thought to the building of a house he would be surprised to find himself saying: 'since i am only laying a foundation, any kind of trashy material will do. i will use inferior cement, plaster, stone, bricks, decayed wood and cheap hardware, and employ the cheapest labor i can procure. but when i get to the roof i shall engage the finest roofmakers in the world!' "the beginning is of such tremendous importance that only the best is good enough. by this i do not mean the most expensive teacher obtainable, but someone who is thorough, painstaking, conscientious, alert and experienced. the foundation is the part of the house in which the greatest strength and thoroughness is required. everything must be solid, substantial, firm and secure, to stand the stress of use and the test of time. of course, there is such a thing as employing a teacher with a big reputation and exceptional skill, who would make an excellent teacher for an advanced student, but who might be incapable of laying a good foundation for the beginner. one wants strength at the foundation--not gold ornaments and marble trimmings and beautiful decorations, fretwork, carving. just as in great cities one finds firms which make a specialty of laying foundations for immense buildings, so it is often wise to employ a teacher who specializes in instructing beginners. in european music schools this has almost always been the case. it is not virtuosity that is needed in the makeup of the teacher of beginners, but rather sound musicianship, as well as the comprehension of the child psychology. drill, drill, and more drill, is the secret of the early training of the mind and hand. this is indicated quite as much in games such as tennis, billiards and golf. think of the remarkable records of some very young players in these games, and you will see what may be accomplished in the early years of the young player. "in all arts and sciences, as one advances, complications and obstacles seem to multiply in complexity until the point of mastery is reached; then the tendency seems to reverse itself, until a kind of circle carries one round again to the point of simplicity. i have often liked to picture this to myself in this way: [illustration] "it is encouraging for the student to know that he must expect to be confronted with ever-increasing difficulties, until he reaches the point where all the intense and intricate problems seem to solve themselves, dissolving gradually into the light of a clear understanding day. this is to me a general principle underlying almost all lines of human achievement, and it appears to me that the student should learn its application, not only to his own but to other occupations and attainments. this universal line of life, starting with birth, mounting to its climax in middle life, and then passing on to greater and greater simplicity of means, until at death the circle is almost completed, is a kind of human program which all successful men would appear to follow. perhaps we can make this clearer by studying the evolution of the steam engine. "the steam engine started with the most primitive kind of apparatus. at the very first it was of the turbine type. hero of alexander (heron, in greek) made the first steam engine, which was little more than a toy. according to some historians, heron lived in the second century before christ, and according to others his work was done in the latter half of the first century. he was an ingenious mathematician who often startled the people of this time with his mechanical contrivances. it is difficult to show the principle of his engine in an exact drawing; but the following indicates in a crude way the application of steam force something after the manner in which heron first applied it. [illustration] "a is a retort containing water, which is heated to steam, which issues from the tube at b and is caught in the wheel in such a manner that the wheel revolves. the principle is simplicity itself; and the noteworthy fact is that--primitive as it is--it has the characteristic principle involved in the turbine engine of to-day. after heron many others attempted to use controlled steam to produce force, until, in 1764, james watt made discoveries which paved the way for the modern steam engine, constituting him virtually the inventor of the type. thereafter, the machinery became more and more complicated and enormous in size. double, triple and quadruple expansion types were introduced until, at the centennial exposition at philadelphia, in 1876, a giant engine was exhibited by corliss--a marvelous engine, with many elaborate details. then, having reached the maximum curve of complexity, engine construction became more and more simple, and now we have turbine engines, such as the parsons engines, which are all far smaller and simpler than their grandfathers of the seventies, but at the same time vastly more powerful and efficient. iii "in the art of piano playing we have much the same line of curve. at first there was childlike simplicity. then, with the further development of the art, we find the tendency toward enormous technical accomplishment and very great complexity. fifty years ago technic was everything. the art of piano playing was the art of the musical speedometer--the art of playing the greatest number of notes in the shortest possible time. of course, there were a few outstanding giants, rubinsteins, liszts and chopins, who made their technic subordinate to their message; but the public was dazzled with technic--one might better say pyrotechnics. now we find the circle drawing toward the point of simplicity again. great beauty, combined with adequate technic, is demanded rather than enormous technic divorced from beauty. "technic represents the material side of art, as money represents the material side of life. by all means achieve a fine technic, but do not dream that you will be artistically happy with this alone. thousands--millions--of people believe that money is the basis of great happiness, only to find, when they have accumulated vast fortunes, that money is only one of the extraneous details which may--or may not--contribute to real content in life. "technic is a chest of tools from which the skilled artisan draws what he needs at the right time for the right purpose. the mere possession of the tools means nothing; it is the instinct--the artistic intuition as to when and how to use the tools--that counts. it is like opening the drawer and finding what one needs at the moment. "there is a technic which liberates and a technic which represses the artistic self. all technic ought to be a means of expression. it is perfectly possible to accumulate a technic that is next to useless. i recall the case of a musician in paris who studied counterpoint, harmony and fugue for eight years, and at the end of that time he was incapable of using any of his knowledge in practical musical composition. why? because he had spent all of his time on the mere dry technic of composition, and none in actual composition. he told me that he had been years trying to link his technic to the artistic side of things--to write compositions that embodied real music, and not merely the reflex of uninspired technical exercises. i am a firm believer in having technic go hand in hand with veritable musical development from the start. neither can be studied alone; one must balance the other. the teacher who gives a pupil a long course in strict technic unbroken by the intelligent study of real music, is producing a musical mechanic--an artisan, not an artist. "please do not quote me as making a diatribe against technic. i believe in technic to the fullest extent in its proper place. rosenthal, who was unquestionably one of the greatest technicians, once said to me: 'i have found that the people who claim that technic is not an important thing in piano playing simply do not possess it.' for instance, one hears now and then that scales are unnecessary in piano practice. a well-played scale is a truly beautiful thing, but few people play them well because they do not practice them enough. scales are among the most difficult things in piano playing; and how the student who aspires to rise above mediocrity can hope to succeed without a thorough and far-reaching drill in all kinds of scales, i do not know. i do know, however, that i was drilled unrelentingly in them, and that i have been grateful for this all my life. do not despise scales, but rather seek to make them beautiful. "the clever teacher will always find some piece that will illustrate the use and result of the technical means employed. there are thousands of such pieces that indicate the use of scales, chords, arpeggios, thirds, etc., and the pupil is encouraged to find that what he has been working so hard to acquire may be made the source of beautiful expression in a real piece of music. this, to my mind, should be part of the regular program of the student from the very start; and it is what i mean when i say that the work of the pupil in technic and in musical appreciation should go hand in hand from the beginning. iv "the use of the pedal is an art in itself. unfortunately, with many it is an expedient to shield deficiency--a cloak to cover up inaccuracy and poor touch. it is employed as the veils that fading dowagers adopt to obscure wrinkles. the pedal is even more than a medium of coloring. it provides the background so indispensable in artistic playing. imagine a picture painted without any background and you may have an inkling of what the effect of the properly used pedal is in piano playing. it has always seemed to me that it does in piano playing what the wind instruments do in the tonal mass of the orchestra. the wind instruments usually make a sort of background for the music of the other instruments. one who has attended the rehearsal of a great orchestra and has heard the violins rehearsed alone, and then together with the wind instruments, will understand exactly what i mean. "how and when to introduce the pedal to provide certain effects is almost the study of a lifetime. from the very start, where the student is taught the bad effect of holding down the 'loud' pedal while two unrelated chords are played, to the time when he is taught to use the pedal for the accomplishment of atmospheric effects that are like painting in the most subtle and delicate shades, the study of the pedal is continuously a source of the most interesting experiment and revelation. "there should be no hard-and-fast rules governing the use of the pedal. it is the branch of pianoforte playing in which there must always be the greatest latitude. for instance, in the playing of bach's works on the modern pianoforte there seems to have been a very great deal of confusion as to the propriety of the use of the pedal. the bach music, which is played now on the keyboard of the modern piano, was, for the most part, originally written for either the clavier or for the organ. the clavichord had a very short sound, resembling in a way the staccato touch on the present-day piano, whereas the organ was and is capable of a great volume of sound of sustained quality. due to the contradictory nature of these two instruments and the fact that many people do not know whether a composition at hand was written for the clavichord or for the organ, some of them try to imitate the organ sound by holding the pedal all the time or most of the time, while others try to imitate the clavichord and refrain from the use of the pedal altogether. the extreme theories, as in the case of all extreme theories, are undoubtedly wrong. "one may have the clavichord in mind in playing one piece and the organ in mind in playing another. there can be nothing wrong about that, but to transform the modern pianoforte, which has distinctly specific tonal attributes, into a clavichord or into an organ must result in a tonal abuse. "the pedal is just as much a part of the pianoforte as are the stops and the couplers a part of the organ or the brass tangents a part of the clavichord. it is artistically impossible to so camouflage the tone of the pianoforte as to make it sound like either the organ or the clavichord. even were this possible, the clavichord is an instrument which is out of date, though the music of bach is still a part and parcel of the musical literature of to-day. the oldest known specimen of the clavichord (dated 1537) is in the metropolitan museum of art, in new york city. should you happen to view this instrument you would realize at once that its action is entirely different from that of the piano, just as its tone was different. you cannot possibly make a piano sound like a clavichord through any medium of touch or pedals. therefore, why not play the piano as a piano? why try to do the impossible thing in endeavoring to make the piano sound like another instrument of a different mechanism? why not make a piano sound like a piano? must we always endure listening to wagner's music in a variety show and to strauss' waltzes in carnegie hall? v "if one were to ask me what is the indispensable thing in the education of a pianist, i would say: 'first of all, a good guide.' by this i do not mean merely a good teacher, but rather a mentor, a pilot who can and who will oversee the early steps of the career of a young person. in my own case, i was fortunate in having a father, a professional musician, who realized my musical possibilities, and from the very beginning was intensely interested in my career, not merely as a father, but as an artist guiding and piloting every day of my early life. fate is such a peculiar mystery, and the student, in his young life, can have but a slight idea of what is before him in the future. therefore, the need of a mentor is essential. i am sure that my father was the author of a great deal of the success that i have enjoyed. it was he who took me to moszkowski and rubinstein. the critical advice--especially that of rubinstein--was invaluable to me. the student should have unrelenting criticism from a master mind. even when it is caustic, as was von bülow's, it may be very beneficial. i remember once in the home of moszkowski that i played for von bülow. the taciturn, cynical conductor-pianist simply crushed me with his criticism of my playing. but, young though i was, i was not so conceited as to fail to realize that he was right. i shook hands with him and thanked him for his advice and criticism. von bülow laughed and said, 'why do you thank me? it is like the chicken thanking the one who had eaten it, for doing so.' von bülow, on that same day played in such a jumbled manner with his old, stiffened fingers, that i asked moszkowski how in the world it might be possible for von bülow to keep a concert engagement which i knew him to have a few days later in berlin. moszkowski replied: 'let von bülow alone for that. you don't know him. if he sets out to do something, he is going to do it.' "von bülow's playing, however, was almost always pedantic, although unquestionably scholarly. there was none of the leonine spontaneity of rubinstein. rubinstein was a very exacting schoolmaster at the piano when he first undertook to train me; but he often said to me, 'the main object is to make the music sound right, even though you have to play with your nose!' with rubinstein there was no _ignus fatuus_ of mere method. any method that would lead to fine artistic results--to beautiful and effective performance--was justifiable in his eyes. "finally, to the student let me say: 'always work hard and strive to do your best. secure a reliable mentor if you can possibly do so, and depend upon his advice as to your career. even with the best advice there is always the element of fate--the introduction of the unknown--the strangeness of coincidence which would almost make one believe in astrology and its dictum that our terrestrial course may be guided by the stars. in 1887, when i played in washington as a child of eleven, i was introduced to a young lady, who was the daughter of senator james b. eustis. little did i dream that this young woman, of all the hundreds and hundreds of girls introduced to me during my tours, would some day be my wife. fate plays its rôle--but do not be tempted into the fallacious belief that success and everything else depend upon fate, for the biggest factor is, after all, hard work and intelligent guidance.'" _piano questions answered_ contents technique page 1. general 3 2. position of the body 4 3. position of the hand 6 4. position of the fingers 6 5. action of the wrist 9 6. action of the arm 11 7. stretching 12 8. the thumb 14 9. the other fingers 16 10. weak fingers, etc. 18 11. staccato 21 12. legato 22 13. precision 25 14. piano touch vs organ touch 26 15. fingering 27 16. the glissando 29 17. octaves 29 18. repetition technique 34 19. double notes 35 the instrument 35 the pedals 39 practice 45 marks and nomenclature 57 about certain pieces and composers 75 1. bach 80 2. beethoven 83 3. mendelssohn 85 4. chopin 86 exercises and studies 93 polyrhythms 96 phrasing 98 rubato 100 conception 102 force of example 104 theory 104 the memory 112 sight-reading 117 accompanying 117 transposing 119 playing for people 120 about the piano per se 127 bad music 133 ethical 135 pitch and kindred matters 136 the student's age 138 teachers, lessons and methods 140 miscellaneous questions 150 a foreword this little book is compiled from the questions and my answers to them, as they have appeared during the past two years in the _ladies' home journal_. since the questions came mostly from young piano students and cover a large number of matters important to the study of the piano, it was thought that this republication might be of interest to piano students in general, and that, gathered into a little volume, they might form a new and perhaps not unwelcome sort of reference book. to serve as such and to facilitate the reader's search for any particular subject, i have grouped the questions, together with their answers, under special headings. it is only natural, however, that a book of this character cannot contain more than mere suggestions to stimulate the reader's individual thinking. positive facts, which can be found in books on musical history and in kindred works, are, therefore, stated only where they are needful as a basis for the replies. any rule or advice given to some particular person cannot fit every other person unless it is passed through the sieve of one's own individual intelligence and is, by this process, so modified as to fit one's own particular case. there are, in addition to the questions presented and answered, one or two points about piano-playing that would naturally not occur to the average student. the opportunity to discuss those here is too favourable to be allowed to pass, and as they hardly admit of precise classification, i venture to offer them here as a brief foreword. to the hundreds of students who at various times have asked me: what is the quickest way to become a great piano-player? i will say that such a thing as a royal road, a secret trick, or a patent method to quickly become a great artist, does not exist. as the world consists of atoms; as it is the infinitely small things that have forced the microscope into the scientist's hand, so does art contain numberless small, seemingly insignificant things which, if neglected entirely, visit dire vengeance upon the student. instead of prematurely concerning himself with his inspiration, spirituality, genius, fancy, etc., and neglecting on their account the material side of piano study, the student should be willing to progress from atom to atom, slowly, deliberately, but with absolute certainty that each problem has been completely solved, each difficulty fully overcome, before he faces the next one. leaps, there are none! unquestionably it does sometimes happen that an artist suddenly acquires a wide renown. in such a case his leap was not into greatness, but merely into the public's recognition of it; the greatness must have been in him for some time before the public became aware of it. if there was any leaping, it was not the artist, but the public that did it. let us not close our eyes to the fact that there have been--and probably always will be--artists that gain a wide renown _without_ being great; puffery, aided by some personal eccentricity, is quite able to mislead the public, but these will, at best, do it only for a short time, and the collapse of such a reputation, as collapse there must be, is always sure, and sad to behold. the buoyancy of mind, its ability to soar, so necessary for both creative and interpretative art, these are never impaired by close attention to detail. if they should be destroyed by attention to detail, it would not matter, for they cannot have been genuine; they can have been but sentimental imaginings. details are the very steps which, one by one, lead to the summit of art; we should be careful not to lift one foot before the other one rests quite securely upon its step. one should--to illustrate--not be satisfied with the ability of "getting through" some difficult passage "by the skin of the teeth" or "without breaking down," but should strive to be able to play _with_ it, to toy with it, in order to have it at one's beck and call in any variation of mood, so as to play it as it pleases the mind and not only the fingers. one should acquire sovereignty over it. this sovereignty is technique. but--technique is not art. it is only a means to achieve art, a paver of the path toward it. the danger of confounding technique with art itself is not inconsiderable, since it takes a long time to develop a trustworthy technique; and this prolonged association with one subject is apt to give it supremacy over all others in one's mind. to guard against this serious danger the student should, above all, never lose sight of the fact that music, as does any other art, springs from our innate craving for individual expression. as word-thought is transmitted from man to man by verbal language so are feelings, emotions, moods--crystallized into tone-thought--conveyed by music. the effects of music may, therefore, be ennobling and refining; but they can as easily be degrading and demoralizing. for the saints and sinners among music-makers are probably in the same proportion as among the followers of other professions. the ethical value of music depends, therefore, not upon the musician's technique, but solely upon his moral tendencies. the student should never strive to dazzle his auditor's ear with mere technical brilliancy, but should endeavour to gladden his heart, to refine his feelings and sensibilities, by transmitting noble musical thoughts to his mind. he should scorn all unnecessary, charlatanish externalities and strive ever for the inwardness of the composition he interprets; for, in being honest to the composition he will also be honest to himself and thus, consciously or not, express his own best self. if all musicians were sincere in this endeavour there could be neither envy nor jealousy among them; advancing hand in hand toward their common ideal they could not help being of mutual assistance to each other. art, not unlike religion, needs an altar around which its devotees may congregate. liszt, in his day, had erected such an altar in weimar, and as its high priest he stood, himself, before it--a luminous example of devotion to art. rubinstein did the same in st. petersburg. out of these atmospheres, thanks to the inspiring influences of liszt's and rubinstein's wonderful personalities, there have emerged a large number of highly meritorious and some eminent artists. that many of them have lacked the power in their later life to withstand the temptations of quick material gain by descending to a lower plane is to be regretted, but--such is life. many are called, but few are chosen. since those days several of these "many" have attempted to create similar centres in europe. they failed, because they were not serving art, but rather made art serve their own worldly purposes. the artists of talent no longer group themselves around the man of genius. perhaps he is not to be found just now. each little celebrity among the pianists keeps nowadays a shop of his own and all to himself. many of these shops are "mints," and some of them produce counterfeits. as a matter of course, this separative system precludes all unification of artistic principles and is, therefore, very harmful to the present generation of students. the honest student who will discriminate between these, sometimes cleverly masked, counterfeit mints, and a real art altar must be of a character in which high principles are natively ingrained. it might help him somewhat to remember that when there is no good to choose we can always reject the bad. what is true of teachers is just as true of compositions. the student should not listen to--should not, at least, repeat the hearing of--bad compositions, though they may be called symphonies or operas. and he can, in a considerable measure, rely upon his own instincts in this matter. he may not--and probably will not--fully fathom the depths of a new symphony at its first hearing, but he must have received general impressions of sufficient power and clearness to make him _wish_ for another hearing. when this wish is absent he should not hear the work again from a mere sense of duty; it were far wiser to avoid another hearing, for habit is a strong factor, and if we accustom our ear to hear cacophonous music we are apt to lose our aversion to it, which is tantamount to a loss of good, natural taste. it is with much of modern music as it is with opium, morphine, and other deadly drugs. we should shun their very touch. these musical opiates are sometimes manufactured by persons of considerable renown; of such quickly gained renown as may be acquired nowadays by the employment of commercialistic methods; a possibility for which the venal portion of the public press must bear part of the blame. the student should not be deceived by names of which the general familiarity is of too recent a date. i repeat that he should rather consult his own feelings and by following them contribute his modest share toward sending some of the present "moderns" back into their deserved obscurity and insignificance. i use the term "moderns" advisedly, for the true masters--some of whom died but recently--have never stooped to those methods of self-aggrandisement at which i hinted. their places of honour were accorded to them by the world because they were theirs, by right of their artistic power, their genius and the purity of their art. my advice to the students and to all lovers of music is: hold on with all your might to the school of sincerity and chastity in music! it is saner and, morally and æsthetically, safer than the entire pack of our present nerve-tickling, aye, and nerve-racking "modernists." music should always elevate; it should always call forth what, according to the demands of time and place, is best in us. when, instead of serving this divine mission, it speculates upon, and arouses, our lowest instincts for no better purpose than to fill the pockets of its perpetrator, it should receive neither the help nor the encouraging attention of any noble-thinking and clean-minded man or woman. passive resistance can do a good deal on these premises. the matter of abstention from a certain type of music recalls to my mind another evil from which americans should abstain; it is the curious and out-of-date superstition that music can be studied abroad better than here. while their number is not very large, i personally can name five american teachers who have struggled here for many a year without gaining that high recognition which they deserve. and now? now they are in the various capitals of europe, receiving the highest fees that were ever paid for instruction, and they receive these high fees from american students that throng their studios. that the indifference of their compatriots drove these men practically out of their country proved to be of advantage to them; but how ought those to be regarded who failed to keep them here? the wrong is irreparable in so far as these men do not think of returning to america except as visitors. the duty of american students and lovers of good music is to see to it that such capable teachers as _are_ still here should _remain_ here. the mass of emigration to europe of our music students should cease! if a student has what is understood by "finished" his studies here and his teacher sets him free, he may make a reconnoitring tour in europe. the change of views and customs will, no doubt, broaden his mind in certain directions. but musically speaking, he will be sure to find that most of the enchantment of europe was due to its distance. excepting the excellent orchestras of europe and speaking of the general music-making there, it is at present not quite as good as it is here: neither is the average music teacher in europe a whit better than the man of equal standing here. americans should take cognizance of the fact that their country has not stood still in music any more than in any other direction. each year has recorded an advancing step in its development. we must cease to compare the europe of to-day with the america of fifty years ago. at present there is an astonishingly large number of clever and capable musicians in america, and, as with good physicians and lawyers, their ability usually stands in inverse proportion to the amount of their advertising. it is these worthy teachers for whose sake the superstition of "studying abroad" should be foresworn. what uncle sam has, in the field of music, not directly produced he has acquired by the natural law of attraction; now that so many talented and learned instructors, both native and foreign, are here they should be given a fair opportunity to finish a pupil's development as far as a teacher can do it, instead of seeing him, half-done, rush off "to europe." if i were not convinced that a change on this score is possible, i should not have devoted so many words to it. it is merely a question of making a start. let me hope that each reader of this little book may start this change, or, that, if already started, he will foster and help it. if his efforts should be disparaged by some, he need not feel disheartened, but remember that he belongs to the "land of limitless possibilities." josef hofmann. piano questions technique 1. general [sidenote: _what does "technique" mean?_] what are the different techniques, and which one is most generally used? what is the difference between them? technique is a generic term, comprising scales, arpeggios, chords, double notes, octaves, legato, and the various staccato touches as well as the dynamic shadings. they are all necessary to make up a complete technique. [sidenote: _the more technique the more practice_] why do pianists who have more technique than many others practise more than these others? why have the rothschilds more secretaries than i have? because the administration of a large fortune entails more work than that of a small one. a pianist's technique is the material portion of his artistic possessions; it is his capital. to keep a great technique in fine working trim is in itself a considerable and time-absorbing task. and, besides, you know that the more we have the more we want. this trait is not only human; it is also pianistic. [sidenote: _how to improve the technique_] should i endeavour to improve my technique by trying difficult pieces? you should not confine yourself to pieces that come easy to you, for that would prevent all further technical progress. but beware of pieces that are so difficult that you could not play them--in a slower tempo--with absolute correctness. for this would lead to the ruin of your technique and kill the joy in your studies. play pieces that are always a trifle harder than those you have completely mastered. do not emulate those who say: "i play already this or that," without asking themselves "how" they play. artistry depends ever upon the "how." 2. position of the body [sidenote: _do not raise the piano-stool too high_] are the best results at the piano attained by sitting high or low? as a general rule, i do not recommend a high seat at the piano, because this induces the employment of the arm and shoulders rather than of the fingers, and is, of course, very harmful to the technique. as to the exact height of the seat, you will have to experiment for yourself and find out at which height you can play longest with the least fatigue. [sidenote: _the height of the piano seat_] is my seat at the piano to be at the same height when i practise as when i play for people? yes! height and distance (from the keyboard) of your chair--which should never have arms--you should decide for yourself and once for all time; for only then can you acquire a normal hand position, which, in its turn, is a condition _sine qua non_ for the development of your technique. see also to it that both feet are in touch with their respective pedals so as to be in place when their action is required. if they stray away and you must grope for the pedals when you need them it will lead to a break in your concentration, and this will cause you to play less well than you really can. to let the feet stray from the pedals easily affects your entire position. it is a bad habit. alas, that bad habits are so much easier acquired than good ones! 3. position of the hand [sidenote: _the tilt of the hand in playing scales_] should my hand in playing scales be tilted toward the thumb or toward the little finger? i find that in the scales with black keys it is much easier to play the latter way. i quite share your opinion, and extend it also to the scales without black keys. i think the natural tendency of the hands is to lean toward the little finger, and as soon as you have passed the stage of preliminary training, as soon as you feel fairly certain that your fingers act evenly, you may yield to their natural tendency, especially when you strive more for speed than force; for speed does not suffer tension, while force craves it. 4. position of the fingers [sidenote: _the results count, not the methods_] does it make any difference if my fingers are held very much curved or only a little? i was told that rubenstein used his fingers almost flat. since you mention rubinstein i may quote his saying: "play with your nose, if you will, but produce euphony (_wohlklang_) and i will recognize you as a master of your instrument." it is ever a question of the result, whether you play this way or that way. if you should play with very much curved fingers and the result should sound uneven and pieced, change the curving little by little until you find out what degree of curvature suits your hand best. experiment for yourself. generally speaking, i recommend a free and easy position of hand and fingers, for it is only in a position of greatest freedom that their elasticity can be preserved, and elasticity is the chief point. by a free and easy position i mean that natural position of hand and fingers into which they fall when you drop your hand somewhat leisurely upon the keyboard. [sidenote: _cantabile passages_] should a cantabile passage be played with a high finger-stroke or by using the weight of the arm? certain characteristic moments in some pieces require the high finger-stroke. it may be used also in working up a climax, in which case the raising of the fingers should increase proportionately to the rise of the climax. where, however, the strength of the fingers is sufficient to obtain the climacteric result by pressure, instead of the stroke, it is always preferable to use pressure. as a general principle, i believe in the free-hanging, limp arm and recommend using its weight in cantabile playing. [sidenote: _an incorrect position of the fingers_] pray how can i correct the fault of bending out the first joints of the fingers when their cushions are pressed down upon the keys? your trouble comes under the head of faulty touch, which nothing will correct but the constant supervision by a good teacher, assisted by a strong exertion of your own will power and strictest attention whenever you play. this bending out of the first joint is one of the hardest pianistic ailments to cure, but it is curable. do not be discouraged if the cure is slow. the habit of years cannot be thrown off in a day. 5. action of the wrist [sidenote: _don't stiffen the hands in playing scales_] should the hands be kept perfectly still in playing scales and arpeggios? or, to lessen fatigue, is an occasional rise and fall of the wrist permissible in a long passage of scale or arpeggio? the hands should, indeed, be kept still, but not stiff. protracted passages of scales or arpeggios easily induce a stiffening of the wrist. hence, an occasional motion of the wrist, upward and downward, will do much to counteract this tendency. it will, besides, be a good test of the looseness of the wrist. [sidenote: _the loose wrist_] is it not impossible to preserve a complete looseness of the wrist in piano-playing because of the muscles that connect the forearm with the hand? by no means. you should only see to it that you do not stiffen the wrist _unconsciously_, as most players do. the arm should be held so that the wrist is on a line with it, not bent, and by concentrated thinking you should endeavour to transfer the display of force to the finger-tips instead of holding the tension in your arm. for this produces fatigue, while the way i suggest will lead you to develop considerable force through the hand and fingers alone and leave the arm practically limp and loose. it takes months of study under closest attention, however, to acquire this looseness of the arm. [sidenote: _the position of the wrist_] do you favour a low or high position of the wrist for average type of work? for average work, i recommend an average position; neither high nor low. changes, upward or downward, must be made to meet the requirements of special occasions. [sidenote: _do not allow the wrist to get stiff_] if one's wrist is stiff is there any set of exercises especially adapted to acquiring a freer movement? or is there any special method of exercise? it depends on whether your wrist is stiff from non-use or from wrong use. assuming the latter, i should recommend studies in wrist octaves, but you must watch your wrist while playing and rest at the slightest indication of its stiffening. 6. action of the arm [sidenote: _when tremolo proves unduly fatiguing_] i cannot play tremolo in the left hand for any length of time without great fatigue. i have tried changing the position of the hand from high to low, the sidewise motion, and the quiet hand. what is the correct method, and may the difficulty be overcome by slow practice? the tremolo cannot be practised slowly, nor with a stiff or quiet hand. the action must be distributed over the hand, wrist, underarm and, if necessary, the elbow. the shoulder forms the pivot whence a vibratory motion must proceed and engage all the points on the road to the fingers. the division of labour cannot be done consciously, but should better proceed from a feeling as if the whole arm was subjected to an electric current while engaged in playing a tremolo. [sidenote: _play chords with a loose arm_] should octave chords be played with rigid arms, the wrists and fingers thereby increasing the tone volume, or should the arms be loose? my teachers differ in their methods; so i turn to you for advice. with few exceptions, dictated by certain characterizations, chords should always be played with a loose arm. let the arm pull the hand above the keys and then let both fall heavily upon them, preparing the fingers for their appropriate notes while still in the air and not, as many do, after falling down. this mode of touch produces greater tone-volume, is least fatiguing, and will have no bad after-effects. 7. stretching [sidenote: _fatiguing the hand by stretching_] i stretch between my fingers--taking the second and third, for instance, and trying to see how many keys i can get between them. it has helped me, but shall i be doing wrong to continue? if, as you say, you feel benefited by your stretching exercises you may continue them. but in your place i should beware of fatigue, for while the hand may show an improvement in its stretch while you are practising these exercises, if it is fatigued it will afterward contract so that its stretch is liable to become narrower than it was before. [sidenote: _do not injure the hand by stretching it_] is there any way to increase the stretch of my very small hand? any modern teacher, acquainted with stretching your hand, can devise certain exercises that will be applicable to your particular hand. as the lack of stretch, however, may be due to a number of different causes i should advise you to desist from any stretch exercise that might be recommended to you without a close examination of your hand, since the wrong kind of exercise is not only apt, but bound, to injure it, perhaps permanently. [sidenote: _a safe way of stretching the small hand_] is there any exercise, on the piano or otherwise, that would tend to stretch my hand so as to enable me to play octaves? my fingers are short and stubby. my teacher has not given me anything definite on this score. the attempts to widen the natural stretch of the hand by artificial means lead easily to disastrous results. it was by just such attempts that schumann rendered his hand useless for piano-playing. the best i can recommend is that before playing you soak your hands in rather hot water for several minutes and then--while still in the water--stretch the fingers of one hand with the other. by doing this daily you will gain in stretch, provided you refrain from forcing matters, and provided also that you are still young, and your hands are flexible. 8. the thumb [sidenote: "_what is the matter with my scales?_"] what is the matter with my scales? i cannot play them without a perceptible jerk when i use my thumb. how can i overcome the unevenness? in answering this question i am in the position of a physician who is expected to prescribe a treatment for a patient whom he has neither examined nor even seen. i can therefore advise only in a very general way--as i have done with many questions to avoid the eventuality of being confronted by an exceptional case. the cause of the hand's unrest in the passing of the thumb lies usually in transferring the thumb too late. the thumb waits usually until the very moment when it is needed and then quickly jumps upon the proper key, instead of moving toward it as soon as the last key it touched can be released. this belatedness causes a jerky motion of the arm and imparts it to the hand. another cause lies in a fault no less grave than the first. since the hand has only five fingers while the scale numbers many notes (according to its length), the player must replenish his fingers by passing the thumb under the hand so as to form a conjunction between the notes played and those to be played. this passing of the thumb conditions a change or shifting of the hand toward the keys to follow, but the shifting of the hand must not coincide with the passing of the thumb or the result will be a jerk. the position of the hand in relation to the keyboard must not change. it must remain the same until the thumb has struck its new key. not until then must the shifting of the hand take place. in this way the jumpiness or jerkiness of the scale can be avoided, provided one can follow this precept punctiliously--which is not an easy matter, especially in great speed. alas, why are those pesky scales so difficult, in fact, the most difficult thing to do on the piano? [sidenote: _how to hold the thumb_] what is the correct position for the thumb? should it be curved well under the hand while playing? in scale-playing the thumb should be slightly curved and kept near the index finger in order to be ready when needed. in pieces this position of the thumb cannot, of course, always be observed. [sidenote: _which fingers demand most attention?_] should one pay special attention to the training of the thumb? it may be said that the thumb and the middle finger are the two arch-conspirators against a precise finger technique. they crave your greatest attention. above all, you must see to it that, in touching the keys with these fingers, you do not move the whole hand, still less the arm. 9. the other fingers [sidenote: _the fourth and fifth fingers_] what exercise would you recommend for the training of the fourth and the fifth fingers? any collection of etudes is sure to contain some that are devoted to the training of those two fingers. in the cramer etudes (bulow's selection) you will find nos. 9, 10, 11, 14, 19, 20 adapted to your case, but do not pin your faith to the print! in all matters of art the "how" is of far more consequence than the "what." play what you will, but bear your weak points in mind while you play. this is the real remedy. keep hand and arm as loose as you can while training the fourth and fifth fingers. [sidenote: _the action of the little finger_] in making wide skips in which the little finger strikes a single note, as, for instance, in left-hand waltz accompaniments, should one strike on the end of the little finger or on its side; and should the finger be curved or held more or less flat? the little finger should never strike with its side. it should always be held in its normally curved condition, and straighten at the stroke only on such occasions when its own force proves insufficient and requires the assistance of the wrist and arm muscles. 10. weak fingers, etc. [sidenote: _to strengthen the weak finger use it_] how can i strengthen the little finger of my right hand? i avoid it in playing, using the next finger instead. by employing your little finger as much as possible and at once quitting the habit of substituting another finger for it. [sidenote: _the weak fingers of the left hand_] what exercise would you recommend for the training of the fourth and fifth fingers of the left hand? slow trill with various touches, with highly lifted fingers producing strength through their fall and with a lesser lift of the fingers combined with pressure touch, watching closely that the little finger strikes with the tip and not with the side. rhythmic evenness should also be punctiliously observed. [sidenote: _when the fingers seem weak_] what kind of technical work would you advise me to take to make my fingers strong in the shortest time consistent with good work? if your fingers are unusually weak it may be assumed that your muscular constitution in general is not strong. the training of the fingers alone will, in that case, lead to no decisive results. you will have to strive for a general strengthening of your muscular fibre. at this point, however, begins the province of your physician and mine ends. if you consider your constitution normal, four or five hours' daily work at the piano will develop the necessary digital force, if that time is judiciously used. [sidenote: _no necessity to watch the fingers_] is it always necessary to watch the fingers with the eye? in places where the fingers slide, and do not jump from one note to another at a distance, there is no need of keeping the eye on them. [sidenote: _biting the finger-nails spoils the touch_] is biting the finger-nails injurious to the piano touch? certainly; biting the nails or any other injury to the finger-tips and hand will spoil your touch. extreme cleanliness and care in cutting the nails the proper length are necessary to keep your hands in condition for playing the piano. [sidenote: _to prevent sore finger-tips after playing_] how can i prevent my finger-tips, after prolonged playing, from feeling sore the next day? experience teaches that in such cases, as in many others, cleanliness is the best remedy. after playing wash your fingers at once in warm water, with soap and brush, and then rub them well with either cold cream or some similar fatty substance. in the development of speed on the piano, the rigidity of the skin on the fingers is a great hindrance; it makes us feel as if we played with gloves on the fingers. [sidenote: _broad-tipped fingers not a disadvantage_] are broad-tipped fingers considered a detriment to a man student of piano; for instance, if the finger grazes the black keys on each side when playing between them? unless broad-tipped fingers are of an unusual thickness i do not consider them an obstacle in the way of good piano-playing; the less so, as the white keys--whatever shape the fingers may have--should never be struck between the black ones, but only in the midst of the open space. altogether, i hold that the shape of the hand is of far greater importance to the pianist than the shape of his fingers; for it furnishes the fingers with a base of operations and with a source of strength, besides holding the entire control over them. studying the hands and fingers of celebrated pianists you will find a great variety of finger shapes, while their hands are usually broad and muscular. [sidenote: _what to do with the unemployed hand_] when playing a piece in which a rest of a measure and a half or two measures occurs should i drop my hand in my lap or keep it on the keyboard? if the temporarily unemployed hand is tired it will rest better in the lap, because this position favours the blood circulation, which, in its turn, tends to renew the strength. i should, however, not put it away from the keyboard too often, for this might easily be taken for a mannerism. 11. staccato [sidenote: _wrist staccato at a high tempo_] what can i do to enable me to play wrist staccato very fast without fatiguing the arm? change your wrist staccato for a little while to a finger or arm staccato, thus giving the wrist muscles a chance to rest and regain their strength. [sidenote: _the difference between "finger staccato" and other kinds_] what does "finger staccato" mean? is not staccato always done with the fingers? by no means! there is a well-defined arm staccato, a wrist staccato, and a finger staccato. the latter is produced by a touch similar to the rapid repetition touch--that is, by not allowing the fingers to fall perpendicularly upon the keys, but rather let them make a motion as if you were wiping a spot off the keys with the finger-tips, without the use of the arm, and rapidly pulling them toward the inner hand. the arm should take no part in it whatever. 12. legato [sidenote: _the advantage of legato over staccato_] is it better for me to practise more staccato or more legato? give the preference to legato, for it produces the genuine piano tone, and it develops the technique of the fingers; while the staccato touch always tends to draw the arm into action. if you play from the arm you cannot expect any benefit for the fingers. for the acquisition of a legitimate legato chopin's works cannot be highly enough recommended, even in the transcriptions by godowsky, which become impossible when tried with any touch other than legato. he wrote them, so to speak, out of his own hand, and his legato is so perfect that it may well be taken as a model by anybody. [sidenote: _to produce good legato_] should you advise me to make use of a high finger-stroke? my teacher makes me use it exclusively, but i notice that my playing is neither legato nor quiet. it is almost humpy. your manner of putting the question expressed your own--and correct--judgment in the matter. this playing "in the air" is lost energy, and will not lead to a good legato. the most beautiful tone in legato style is ever produced by a "clinging and singing" gliding of the fingers over the keys. of course, you have to watch your touch in order that your "clinging" does not deteriorate into "blurring," and that your "gliding" may not turn into "smearing." if you apprehend any such calamity you must for a while increase the raising of your fingers and use more force in their falling upon the keys. under constant self-observation and keen listening you may, after a while, return to the gliding manner. this much in general; of course, there are places and passages where just the opposite of my advice could be said, but still i think that the high finger-stroke should rather be employed for some special characteristic effects than as a general principle. [sidenote: _the firm and crisp legato touch_] i am confused by the terms "firm legato touch" and "crisp legato touch." wherein lies the difference? legato means "bound together," for which we substitute the word "connected." two tones are either connected or they are not connected. the idea of various kinds of legato is purely a sophism, a product of non-musical hyper-analysis. by "legato" i understand the connecting of tones with each other through the agency of the fingers (on the piano). the finger that evoked a tone should not leave its key until the tone generated by the next finger has been perceived by the ear. this rule governs the playing of melodies and slow passages. in rapid passages, where the control through the ear is lessened, the legato is produced by more strictly mechanical means, but there should, nevertheless, always be two fingers simultaneously occupied. do not take the over-smart differentiations of legato seriously. there is no plural to the word "legato." 13. precision [sidenote: _not playing the two hands at once_] my teachers have always scolded me for playing my left hand a little before my right. it is probably a very bad habit, but i do not hear it when i do it how can i cure it? this "limping," as it is called, is the worst habit you can have in piano playing, and you are fortunate in having a teacher who persists in his efforts to combat it. there is only one way to rid yourself of this habit, namely, by constant attention and closest, keenest listening to your own playing. you are probably misstating it when you say that you do not "hear" it when you "limp"; it seems more likely to me that you do not listen. hearing is a purely physical function which you cannot prevent while awake, while listening is an act of your will-power--it means to give direction to your hearing. 14. piano touch _vs._ organ touch [sidenote: _how organ-playing affects the pianist_] is alternate organ and piano playing detrimental to the "pianistic touch"? inasmuch as the force of touch and its various gradations are entirely irrelevant on the organ, the pianist who plays much on the organ is more than liable to lose the delicacy of feeling for tone-production through the fingers, and this must, naturally, lessen his power of expression. [sidenote: _organ-playing and the piano touch_] is it true that a child beginning music lessons on an organ gets much better tone than one beginning on a piano, and does the side study of pipe-organ, after two years of extensive piano work, impair the piano touch? it is only natural that a child can get better tone out of an organ than on a piano, because it is not the child but the organ that produces the tone. if the child's purpose, however, is to learn piano-playing it would not be wise to let him begin on an organ, because this would leave the essential element--the art of touch--entirely undeveloped. and if his piano touch has been formed it can easily be undone again by letting him play on the organ. 15. fingering [sidenote: _the universal system of marking fingering_] in what respect does american fingering differ from foreign fingering, and which offers the greater advantages? there is no "american" fingering. many years ago the "english" fingering (which counts only four fingers and a thumb, and indicates the latter by a plus mark: +) was adopted by a few of the less prominent publishers in america; but it was soon abandoned. if you have a piece of sheet music with english fingering you may be certain that it is not of a recent edition, and i would advise you to obtain a more modern one. the advantage of the universal fingering lies in its greater simplicity, and in the circumstance that it is universally adopted. [sidenote: _the c-scale fingering for all scales?_] do you advise the use of the c-scale fingering for all the scales? is it practicable? the c-scale fingering is not applicable to scales reposing on black keys because it creates unnecessary difficulties, the mastering of which would be a matter rather of mere sport than of art. [sidenote: _fingering the chromatic scale_] which fingering of the chromatic scale the is most conducive to speed and accuracy? the right thumb always upon e and b, the left one upon f and c. between times use three or four consecutive fingers as often as convenient. at the beginning of a long chromatic scale select such fingers as will most naturally bring you to one of the stations just mentioned. [sidenote: _the fingers needed to play a mordent_] when executing the mordent, is not the use of three fingers preferable to two? the selection of the fingers for the execution of a mordent depends always upon the preceding notes or keys which lead up to it. since we cannot lift the hand just before a mordent for the purpose of changing fingers (for this would mean a rude interruption) we have to use whatever fingers happen to be "on hand." an exchange of fingers in a mordent is seldom of any advantage, for it hampers precision and evenness, since, after all, each finger has its own tone-characteristics. 16. the glissando [sidenote: _to play a glissando passage_] will you describe the best method of holding the hand when playing glissando? which is preferable to use, the thumb or the forefinger? in playing glissando in the right hand use the index finger when going upward, the thumb when going downward. in the left hand--where it hardly ever occurs--use the middle finger in either direction, or, if you should find it easier, the index finger downward. the production of so great a volume of tone, as is possible on our modern piano, has necessitated a deeper fall of the keys than former pianos possessed, and this deeper dip has banished the glissando almost entirely from modern piano literature. 17. octaves [sidenote: _how best to play the octaves_] should i play octaves using the "hinge" stroke from the wrist or by using the arm? i find i can get more tone by using the arm stroke, but cannot play so rapidly. the character of the octaves must govern the selection of means to produce them. for light octaves use the wrist, for heavier ones draw more upon the arm. rapidity requires that you avoid fatigue. if you feel fatigue approaching from too constant use of one joint, change to the other, and in doing this change also the position of the hand from high to low, and _vice versa_. for wrist octaves i recommend the low position of the hand, for arm octaves the high one. [sidenote: _rapid octaves_] please suggest some method of playing octaves rapidly to one who finds this the most difficult part of piano-playing. would be grateful also for naming some octave études that could be used in the répertoire. if rapid octaves seem to be "the most difficult part of piano-playing" to you, take it as an indication that they do not suit your nature. a "method" will never change your nature. this need not discourage you, however; it is only to prevent you from trying to make a specialty of something for which you are not especially qualified and to save you a needless disappointment. hold arms and hands in but a slight tension, and at the slightest fatigue change the position of the hand from high to low and _vice versa_. your seat at the piano should not be too low. study the first book of kullak's octave school, and, later on, the second book. [sidenote: _when playing octaves_] when should i use the arm to play octaves as i have seen some concert players do? as i was watching them there did not seem to be the slightest motion from the wrist. most concert players play their octaves more from the arm than from the wrist, but their wrist is nevertheless not so inactive as it seems to have appeared to you. they have probably distributed the work over the wrist, the elbow, and the shoulder in such a way that each had to do only a part of it. light octaves can come only from the wrist, while heavier ones put the elbow and shoulder into action. to make this distribution consciously is hardly possible. a striving for economy of force and the least possible fatigue will produce this "division of labour" unconsciously. [sidenote: _wrist stroke in long octave passages_] when playing extended octave passages, such as the liszt arrangement of "the erlking," should the endeavour be to play all from the pure wrist stroke; or is it well to relieve the strain by an occasional impulse (a sort of vibration) from the forearm? is there any advantage in varying the height of the wrist? in extended octave playing it is well to vary the position of the wrist, now high and then low. the low position brings the forearm into action, while the whole arm coöperates when the wrist is held high. from the wrist alone such pieces as "the erlking" cannot be played, because the wrist alone gives us neither the power nor the speed that such pieces require. besides, the octaves, when all played from the wrist, would sound "cottony." the wrist alone is to be used only in light, graceful places. [sidenote: _stiff wrists in playing octaves_] in playing octaves or other double notes my wrist seems to stiffen. how can i remedy this? stiffness in the wrist results from an unmindful use of it. when practising octaves or double notes think always of holding the arm and its joints in a loose, limber condition, and when you feel fatigued do not fail to stop until the muscular contraction is relieved. in a little while you will see your conscientious practising rewarded by acquiring an elasticity commensurate with your general physical status. [sidenote: _premature fatigue in the arms_] why does it tire my arms when i play octaves and a continuation of little runs? how can i avoid it, so that they will feel free and easy? premature fatigue is usually caused by undue muscular contraction. keep your arms and wrists loose and you will find that the fatigue disappears. for your sensation of fatigue may be due, not to exhaustion of muscular power, but to a stoppage of circulation caused by an unconscious stiffening of the wrist. change the position of the wrist from high to low and _vice versa_ whenever you feel the "fatigue" coming on. [sidenote: _kullak's "method of octaves" still good_] is kullak's "method of octaves" still one of the best in its line? or can you recommend something better? since the days when kullak's "school of octaves" was printed, experience has taught us some things which might be added to it, but nothing that would contradict it. nor, so far as i know, has anything better appeared in print than the first volume of that work especially. 18. repetition technique [sidenote: _the difficulty of playing repetition notes_] please help me about my repetition notes. when i wish to play them rapidly it seems that the key does not always produce a sound? is it because of my touch? first, examine the action of your piano. it occurs not infrequently that the fingers do their work well, but fail in the results because of an inert or lazy piano action. if, however, the fault does not lie in the instrument, it must lie in a certain stiffness of the fingers. to eliminate this you need, first of all, a loose wrist. furthermore, you should not, in repetition technique, let the fingers fall perpendicularly upon the keys, but with a motion as if you were wiping the keys with the finger-tips and then pull them quickly toward the palm of the hand, bending every joint of them rapidly. 19. double notes [sidenote: _the playing of double thirds_] please tell me something about the general practice of thirds, both diatonic and chromatic; also, about those in the first movement of the grieg concerto. as the playing of passages in single notes requires a close single legato, to do double thirds requires an equally close double legato. as to the exact details of legato playing i may refer you to my book, "piano playing," where you will find the matter discussed at length in the chapter on "touch and technic." the instrument [sidenote: _the kind of piano upon which to practise_] is it irrelevant whether i practise upon a good or a bad piano? for practice you should never use any but the very best available instrument. far, rather, may the piano be bad when you play for people. this will not hurt you nearly so much as will the constant and habitual use of a piano with a mechanism in which every key demands a different kind of touch, and which is possibly out of tune. such conditions impair the development of your musical ear as well as of your fingers. it cannot be otherwise. as i said once before, learning means the acquiring of habits: habits of thinking and of doing. with a bad instrument you cannot develop any good qualities, even if you should possess them by nature; much less can you acquire them. hence, i recommend a good piano, clean keyboard--for your æsthetic perceptions should be developed all around--a correct seat and concentration of mind. but these recommendations presuppose on the part of the student some talent and a good teacher. [sidenote: _do not use a piano extreme in "action"_] is it not better for a student in the advanced stage of study, who is preparing for concert work, to practise on a piano with a heavy action in order to develop the finger and hand muscles, and to use an instrument with a light action for obtaining an artistic finish to the lighter passages occurring so often, for instance, in chopin's music? all extremes are harmful in their effects upon study and practice. a too heavy action stiffens and overtires the fingers, while too light an action tends to impair your control. try to obtain for your practice a piano the action of which approximates as nearly as possible that of the piano on which you have to play in the concert, in order to avoid unpleasant surprises, such as premature fatigue or a running away of the fingers. [sidenote: _how tight to keep the piano's action_] should i keep the action of my piano tight? keep it tight enough to preserve the "feeling" of the keys under the fingers, but to make it more so would endanger your finger action and it may injure your hand. [sidenote: _the action of a beginner's piano_] do you think it wise for a beginner to practise on a piano that has a heavy action? that depends upon the age and physical development of the beginner. "heavy" and "light" action are not absolute but relative terms, which comprise in their meaning the power of resistance in the player's hand. the action should be so adjusted that the player can--even in the softest touch--always feel the key under his finger. a too heavy action leads necessarily to an employment of the shoulder muscles (which should be reserved for brief, special uses) and may permanently injure the hand. [sidenote: _playing on a dumb piano_] are mechanical appliances, such as a dumb keyboard, of advantage to the student of the piano? should its use be restricted to a particular stage in the course of study? music is a language. schumann said: "from the dumb we cannot learn to talk!" the totally dumb or mute piano should, therefore, not be used, or very little, if we aim at a "musical" technique--that is, a live, multicoloured technique qualified to express musical thought and feeling. personally i have never used a dumb piano. the pedals [sidenote: _a general rule about the pedal_] should i use the pedal with each melody note? should like a general rule. the treading upon the pedal should always follow immediately after the striking of the note for which it is intended, or else there will be discords arising from the mingling of that note with the one preceding it. this is the general rule. exceptions there are, of course, but they occur only in certain moments when a mingling of tones is purposed for some special effect. [sidenote: _the use of the pedal for colouring_] what is the use of the damper pedal? primarily it serves to prolong such tones as we cannot hold with the fingers. but it is also one of the greatest means for colouring. the employment of it should always be governed by the ear. [sidenote: _how to use the pedal_] please tell me how to use the pedal. i find that in some pieces there is no mark under the measures to show me when it should be used. is there any rule which you can give me? assuming that you have in mind the artistic use of the pedal, i regret to say that there is no more a rule for this than for the mixing of colours upon the palette of a painter who strives for some particular shade or tint. he knows that blue and yellow make green, that red and blue make purple; but those are ground colours which he can rarely use. for the finer shades he has to experiment, to consult his eye and his judgment. the relation between the pedal and the player's ear is exactly similar to that of the palette and the painter's eye. generally speaking (from sad experience) it is far more important to know when _not_ to use the pedal than when to use it. we must refrain from its use whenever there is the slightest danger of unintentional mingling of tones. this is best avoided by taking the pedal _after_ striking the tone upon which it is to act, and to release it promptly and simultaneously with the striking of the next tone. it may be at once taken again, and this alternation must be kept up where there is either a change of harmony or a succession of "passing notes." this is the only positive rule i can give, but even this is often violated. let your ear be the guardian of your right foot. accustom your ear to harmonic and melodic clarity, and--listen closely. to teach the use of the pedal independent of the action of your own ear is impossible. [sidenote: _let your ear guide your pedalling_] in weber's "storm" should the pedal be held down throughout the entire piece, as directed? it produces quite a discord. without knowing this piece, even by name, i may say that the pianos of weber's time had a tone of such short duration and volume that the discords resulting from a continuous use of the pedal were not so noticeable, as they are now upon the modern piano with its magnificent volume and duration of tone. hence, the pedal must now be used with the utmost caution. generally speaking, i say--again--that the ear is the "sole" guide of the foot upon the pedal. [sidenote: _use pedal with caution in playing bach_] is bach's music ever played with the pedal? there is no piano-music that forbids in playing the use of the pedal. even where the texture of a piece does not require the pedal--which happens very rarely--the player might employ it as an aid where the reach of his hand proves insufficient to hold all the parts of a harmony together. with bach the pedal is often very important; for, by judicious use--as, for instance, in the cases of organ-point--it accumulates harmonic tones, holds the fundamental tone and thus produces effects not dissimilar to the organ. qualitatively speaking, the pedal is as necessary in bach's music as in any other; quantitatively, i recommend the utmost caution in its use, so as not to blur the fine texture of his polyphony. [sidenote: _the student with a fondness for the pedal_] i always want to use the pedal as soon as i take a new piece, but my teacher insists that i should get a good singing tone first. is she right? you "want" to use the pedal? in the face of your teacher's advice to the contrary? then why did you apply for a teacher? people who consider their own pleasure while engaged in any kind of study need no teacher. they need discipline. learn obedience! if by following your teacher's advice you should fail to progress, even then you have no right to do anything else than go to another teacher. but he will in all probability not be very different from the first one in his precepts. hence, i say again: you should learn obedience! [sidenote: _using the two pedals at once_] may the damper pedal and the soft pedal be used simultaneously, or would this be detrimental to the piano? since the mechanisms of the two pedals are entirely separate and independent of each other you may use them simultaneously, provided that the character of a particular place in your piece justifies it. [sidenote: _to produce a softer tone_] should the expression "_p_" be executed by the aid of the soft pedal or through the fingers? the soft pedal serves to change the quality of tone, not the quantity. it should therefore never be used to hide a faulty _piano_ (or soft) touch. mere softness of tone should always be produced by a decrease of finger-force and a lessening of the raising of the fingers. the soft pedal should be employed only when the softness of tone is coupled with a change of colouring, such as lies within its range of action. [sidenote: _do not over-use the soft pedal_] should the gavotte in a, of gluck-brahms, be played without the soft pedal? does a liberal use of the soft pedal tend to make the student lazy in using a light touch? your first question is too general, as there is no piece of music that should be played entirely with or without the soft pedal; it is used only when a certain change of colouring is proposed. a too frequent use of the soft pedal does tend to a neglect of the _pianissimo_ touch, and it should, therefore, be discouraged. [sidenote: _once more the "soft" pedal_] my piano has a rather loud tone to which my people object, and urge me to play with the soft pedal. i use it most of the time, but am afraid now to play without it. what would you advise? if a soft touch and sound are liked, have the mechanism of your piano changed at the factory. i found myself in the bad condition at one time that i could not play certain passages independently of the position of my foot on the soft pedal. such is the strength of association that very soon a constant use of the soft pedal produces physical inability to play unless the foot is pressing the pedal. practice [sidenote: _the morning practice on the piano_] in resuming my studies in the morning what should i play first? begin with your technical work. scales in all tonalities, each at least twice well rendered. first slowly, one after another, then somewhat quicker, but never very quickly as long as you are not absolutely sure that both hands are perfectly even, and that neither false notes nor wrong fingerings occur. to play the scales wrong is just as much a matter of habit as to play them right--only easier. you can get very firmly settled in the habit of striking a certain note wrong every time it occurs unless you take the trouble of counteracting the formation of such a habit. after these scales play them in octaves from the wrist, slowly and without tiring it by lifting the hand to a needless height. after this play either czerny or cramer, then bach, and finally mozart, beethoven, chopin, and so on. if you have the time to do it, play one hour in the morning on technical studies and use one hour for the difficult places in the works you are studying. in the afternoon play another hour, and this hour you devote to interpretation. i mean by this that you should now apply æsthetically what you have technically gained in the morning by uniting your mechanical advantages with the ideal conception which you have formed in your mind of the work you are studying. [sidenote: _morning is the best time to practise_] how much time should i spend on clearly technical study? i am practising three hours a day; how long should i practise at a time? purely technical work--that is, work of the fingers without the participation of mind and heart--you should do little or none, for it kills your musical spirit. if, as you say, you practise three hours a day i should recommend two hours in succession in the morning and one hour in the afternoon. the morning is always the best time for work. make no long pauses in your work, for they would break your contact with the piano and it would take considerable time to reëstablish it. in the afternoon, after the major portion of your daily task is done, you may move with greater freedom, though even this freedom should be kept within proper bounds. [sidenote: _time to devote to technical exercises_] should i practise studies in general for my progress or should i confine myself strictly to my technical exercises? your strictly technical exercises should occupy one-quarter of the entire time you can give to your work. two quarters you should use for the technical preparation of the difficult passages you encounter in the pieces you are studying, and during the last quarter these passages which have been thus prepared should be ranged into their proper places in the pieces, in order that you may not lose your view of the totality of the pieces while studying or practising details. [sidenote: _the only kind of practice worth while_] in purely technical, _i. e._, mechanical, practice may i have a book or a magazine on the music-stand and read? this question will appear grotesque to any one who has not thought of it, yet it is legitimate; for i know positively that this crime upon themselves has been committed by many. i cannot warn students too strongly against this pernicious habit. it is far better to practise only half as long, but with concentrated attention. even purely mechanical matter must be transmitted to the motor-centres of the brain through the agencies of the ear and eye in order to bring beneficial technical results. if the brain is otherwise occupied it becomes insensible to the impression of the work in hand, and practise thus done is a complete waste of time. not only should we not read, but also not think of anything else but the work before us, if we expect results. concentration is the first letter in the alphabet of success. [sidenote: _practising eight hours instead of four_] will i advance quicker by practising eight hours instead of four, as i do now? playing too much in one day has often a deteriorating effect upon one's studies, because work is profitable, after all, only if done with full mental concentration, which can be sustained only for a certain length of time. some exhaust their power of concentration quicker than others; but, however long it may have lasted, once it is exhausted all further work is like unrolling a scroll which we have laboriously rolled up. practise self-examination, and if you notice that your interest is waning--stop. remember that in studying the matter of quantity is of moment only when coupled with quality. attention, concentration, devotion, will make unnecessary any inquiries as to how much you ought to practise. [sidenote: _playing with cold hands_] shall i, when my hands are cold and stiff, play at once difficult and fatiguing things in order to limber them up? in forcing things with cold hands you always run the danger of overstraining, while with a gradual limbering you may safely try the same tasks with impunity. handle the piano lightly while the hands are cold, and increase both force and speed only when the hands have gained their normal temperature and elasticity. this may take half or even three-quarters of an hour. it may be accelerated by putting the hands in hot water before playing, but this should not be done too often, because it is apt to weaken the nerves of the hands. [sidenote: _counting out loud_] is counting aloud injurious to a pupil's playing--that is, does not the sound of the voice confuse the pupil in getting the correct tone of the note struck? loud counting can hardly ever be injurious--especially not while the pupil is dealing with time and rhythm. this part mastered or fully understood, the audible counting may be lessened and finally abandoned. during practice loud counting is of inestimable value, for it develops and strengthens rhythmic feeling better than anything else will, and, besides, it is an infallible guide to find the points of stress in a phrase. [sidenote: _the study of scales is very important_] must all study of the piano absolutely begin with the study of scales? scales should not be attempted until a good finger-touch has been formed and the very important action of the thumb in the scale has been fully prepared. after that, however, i consider the practising of scales important, not only for the fingers, but also for the discipline of the ear with regard to the feeling of tonality (key), understanding of intervals, and the comprehension of the total compass of the piano. [sidenote: _the study of the scales_] do you approve of the study of all the fifteen major scales by piano students, or is the practice of the enharmonic ones unnecessary? one should learn everything in that line in order to select from one's store of learning that which the occasion calls for. study or practise all scales as they are written, and later also in thirds, sixths, and octaves. [sidenote: _when reading over a new piece_] when studying a new composition, which is preferable: to practise first with separate hands or together? when first looking over a new composition both hands should be employed, if possible, for this is necessary to obtain, approximately, at least, a mental picture of it. if the player's technique is too insufficient for this the deciphering must, of course, be done for each hand separately. [sidenote: _practising the two parts separately_] when i am learning a new piece should the hands practise their parts separately? provided you have formed a general idea of the piece, it is well to practise the hands separately, because you can, in this way, concentrate your attention upon the work of each hand. as soon, however, as each hand knows its work the hands should play together in order now to pursue the musical purpose for which the separate practice was only a technical preparation. [sidenote: _four ways to study a piano piece_] should a composition be studied away from the piano? there are four ways to study a composition: 1. on the piano with the music. 2. away from the piano with the music. 3. on the piano without the music. 4. away from the piano without the music. 2 and 4 are mentally the most taxing and fatiguing ways, no doubt; but they also serve best to develop the memory and what we mean by "scope," which is a faculty of great importance. [sidenote: _the conditions which dictate speed in playing_] how fast or slow should schubert-liszt's "_auf dem wasser zu singen_" be played? what modern parlour pieces would you recommend after bendel's "zephyr"? even if i did believe in metronomes, as i do not, i could not indicate speed for you or for anybody, because it will always depend upon the state of your technique and the quality of your tone. for modern parlour pieces i suggest the two volumes of russian piano music published by g. schirmer, new york. you will find pieces of various degrees of difficulty there from which you may select what suits you best. [sidenote: _to work up a fast tempo_] which is the best way to work up a fast tempo? the best help is to hear the piece or part which you have in mind played quickly by another person, for this aids you in forming the mental concept of it, which is the principal condition to which all ability is subject. there are, however, other ways which each one of us must find for himself: either by a gradual increase of speed until you reach your individual maximum or by starting at once at full tilt, even though some notes should drop under the piano and then be picked up in subsequent repetitions. which of these two or any other ways is best for you no one can tell; your musical instinct will guide you if you follow it cautiously. [sidenote: _the best way to work up a quick tempo_] is it ever a waste of time to practise a piece over and over again for months as slowly as a beginner and with utmost concentration? after having done so and gradually working up a tempo, i then find i cannot play so fast as i want to. is it not wise to begin all over again as slowly as possible? i prefer to work this way, but have been told that one gets "stale," studying the same music for a long time. do you advise practising with or without the pedal? slow practice is undoubtedly the basis for quick playing; but quick playing is not an immediate result of slow practice. quick playing must be tried from time to time, with increasing frequency and heightened speed, even at a temporary loss of clearness. this loss is easily regained by subsequent returns to slow practice. after all, we must first learn to think quickly through the course of a piece before we can play it quickly, and this mental endeavour, too, will be greatly aided by occasional trials in a quicker tempo. as for getting "stale," a variety of pieces is necessary to preserve the freshness of each one. regarding the pedal, i suggest that you use it judiciously from the very beginning of the study of a new piece; though never in finger exercises. [sidenote: _watch your breathing_] what is the purpose of associating breathing with piano playing, and to what extent should it be practised? breathing is as important in piano playing as in all physical exertion, and more so when we speak of pieces that entail the use of great muscular force; for this causes a quickening in the action of the heart; respiration naturally keeps step with it, and the result is often a forcible breathing through the mouth. players resort to open-mouth breathing in such cases because they cannot help themselves. if, at the last spurt of a bicycle race, we should call to the wheelmen, "breathe through the nose!" we could not wonder if our advice remains unheeded. this open-mouth breathing, however, need not be learned; it is the self-help of nature. i recommend breathing through the nose as long as possible. it is more wholesome than mouth-breathing, and it refreshes the head more. when physical exertion becomes too great then you will neither need nor heed my advice or anybody's; your nature will find its own line of least resistance. [sidenote: _take a month's rest every year_] must i keep up my practice during my christmas holidays of a month? if you have worked well on your development during the spring, summer, and autumn it will be to your advantage to stop your practising entirely for a month. such a pause renews your forces as well as the love for your work, and you will, upon resuming it, not only catch up quickly with what you may think to have missed, but you will also make a quick leap forward because the quality of your work will be better than it could be if you had persisted in it with a fatigued mind. in a tired condition of mind and body we are very apt not to notice the formation of bad habits, and since "to learn means to form correct habits of thinking and doing" we must beware of anything that might impair our watchfulness as to bad habits. the greatest persistence cannot turn a bad habit into a virtue. marks and nomenclature [sidenote: _the metronome markings_] what is the meaning of m. m. = 72 printed over a piece of music? the m stands for "metronome," the other for the name of its inventor, maelzl. the figures indicate the number of beats a minute and the note shows what each beat represents--in this case a quarter note. the whole annotation says that the average speed of the piece should admit of seventy-two quarter notes being played in a minute. i advise you, however, rather to consult the state of your technique and your own feeling for what is musically right in deciding upon the speed of the piece. [sidenote: _the personal element and the metronome_] in chopin's prelude no. 15 is the movement in c-sharp minor to be played in the same tempo as the opening movements, or much faster? how should the 6-8 and 9-8 movements of liszt's dance of the gnomes be metronomized? the c-sharp minor movement should not increase in speed, or only very little, because it rises to a considerable height dynamically, and this seems to counteract an increase of speed. as to the metronoming, i would not bother about it. the possibilities of your technique must ever regulate the speed question in a large degree. tempo is so intimately related with touch and dynamics that it is in a large measure an individual matter. this does not mean that one may play andante where an allegro is prescribed, but that one person's allegro differs slightly from that of another person. touch, tone, and conception influence the tempo. the metronome indications are to be accepted only with the utmost caution. [sidenote: _metronome markings may better be ignored_] how fast, by metronome, should the minuetto of beethoven's sonatina, opus 49, number 2, be played? if you possess an edition of beethoven that has no metronome marks you have been singularly fortunate, and i would not for the world interfere with such rare good luck. consult your technique, your feelings, and have confidence in your good sense. [sidenote: _there are dangers in using a metronome_] how should one use the metronome for practising? i have been warned against it, as my teacher tells me one is liable to become very stiff and mechanical by the persistent use of it. your teacher is eminently right. you should not play with the metronome for any length of time, for it lames the musical pulse and kills the vital expression in your playing. the metronome may well be used as a controlling device first, to find the approximate average speed of a piece, and, second, to convince yourself that, after playing for a while without it, your feelings have not caused you to drift too far away from the average tempo. [sidenote: _the real meaning of speed terms_] what is the meaning of the words adagio, andante, and allegro? are they just indications of speed? they serve as such; though our musical ancestors probably selected these terms because of their indefiniteness, which leaves a certain margin to our individuality. literally, adagio (_ad agio_) means "at leisure." andante means "going" in contradistinction to "running," going apace, also walking. allegro (a contraction of _al leg-gie-ro_) means with "lightness, cheerful." primarily these terms are, as you see, indications of mood; but they have come to be regarded as speed annotations. [sidenote: _a rule for selecting the speed_] as the words "largo," "allegro," etc., are supposed to indicate a certain rate of speed, can you give a rule so that a student who cannot have the aid of a teacher will be able to understand in what time he should play a composition? if the metronome is not indicated you have to consult your own good taste. take the most rapid notes of your piece, play them rapidly as the general trend of the piece will æsthetically permit, and adjust the general tempo accordingly. [sidenote: _how grace notes are played_] how are the grace notes played in these measures from chopin's valse, opus 42, and when are grace notes not struck simultaneously with the base? [illustration] grace notes and their chiefs--that is, those notes to which the grace notes are attached--should ever be played with one and the same muscular impulse. the time occupied by the grace notes should be so minimal that it should not be discernible whether they appear simultaneously with the base note or slightly before it. in modern music it is usually meant to precede the bass note, though the good taste of the player may occasionally prefer it otherwise. [sidenote: _rests used under or over notes_] what is the meaning of a rest above or below the notes of the treble clef? the rests you speak of can occur only when more than one voice (or part) is written in the same staff, and they indicate how long the entrance of the other voice is to be delayed. [sidenote: _what a double dot means_] what does it mean when a note is double-dotted, like: [illustration] i thought first it was a misprint, but it seems to occur too frequently for that. as the first dot prolongs the note by one-half of its own value, so does the second dot add one-half of the value of the first dot. a half-note with one dot lasts three-quarters, with two dots it lasts seven-eighths. [sidenote: _the playing of slurred notes_] should i accent the first note under a slur thus: [illustration] or should i lift my hand at the end of the slur thus: [illustration] slurs and accents have nothing to do with each other, because accents relate to rhythm, while slurs concern the touch. the last note under a slur will usually be slightly curtailed in order to create that small pause which separates one phrase from another. generally speaking, the slur in piano music represents the breathing periods of the vocalist. [sidenote: _how a tie and a slur differ_] what difference is there between a slur and a tie? none in appearance, but much in effect. a tie continues the sound of the note struck at its beginning as long as the note-value at its end indicates. it can be placed only upon two notes of similar name in the same octave which follow each other. as soon as another note intervenes the tie becomes a slur and indicates a _legato_ touch. [sidenote: _slurs and accents not related_] how should the beginning of slurs be accented? slurs and accents have nothing to do with each other. slurs indicate either a legato touch or the grouping of the notes. which one of the notes thus grouped is to be accented depends upon its rhythmical position in the measure. the strong and weak beat (or positive and negative beat) govern the accent always, unless there is an annotation to the contrary, and such an annotation must be carried out with great judiciousness, seldom literally. [sidenote: _how long an accidental affects a note_] where there is an accidental on the last beat of a measure does not that note resume its signature beyond the bar unless tied? the case i speak of was in a key of two flats, common time. the fourth beat, e, was naturalized and the first note of the next measure was e with the flat sign. i maintain that the flat sign is superfluous, and i should like to know if this is right? you are quite right, theoretically. nevertheless, the proper tonality signature of a note that was changed is very frequently restated when the same note recurs beyond the bar. though this special marking is not necessary theoretically, practical experience has shown that it is not an unwise precaution. [sidenote: _"e-sharp and b-sharp" and the double flat_] what is the meaning of the sharps on the e and b line, and of a double-flat? are they merely theoretical? they are not theoretical, but orthographical. you confound the note c with the key on the keyboard by that name. b-sharp is played upon the key called c, but its musical bearing is very remote from the note c. the same applies to double-flats (and double-sharps), for d with a double-flat is played upon the key called c, but it has no relation to the note c. this corresponds precisely with the homonym in language: "sow"--"sew"--"so"--sound alike, but are spelled in various ways according to the meaning they are to convey. [sidenote: _the effect of double flats_] how is an octave, written thus, to be played? [illustration] as the single-flat lowers a note by a half-tone, so a double-flat lowers it by two half-tones or a full tone. [sidenote: _double sharp misprinted for double flat_] [illustration] in playing an operetta recently i found the double-sharp sign used for double-flats as well. is this correct? the sign may be a misprint. but if it should occur repeatedly i advise you to make quite sure, before taking the misprint for granted, that the sign is not, after all, meant for a double-sharp. [sidenote: _when an accidental is in parentheses_] [illustration] please tell me how a chord or an interval marked thus, is executed. what does an accidental in parentheses mean? chords marked as above are slightly rolled in the same manner as if marked by a serpentine line, unless the sign denotes a linking with the other hand. which of the two meanings is intended you will easily infer from the context. accidentals in parentheses are mere warnings given by some composers wherever there is a possibility of doubt as to the correct reading caused by a momentary harmonic ambiguity. i have found these accidentals in parentheses so far only in the works of french composers. [sidenote: _the staffs are independent of each other_] does an accidental in the right hand influence the left? inasmuch as piano music is written in score form, the two staffs are as independent of each other as are the staffs in an orchestral score. we may, in cases of suspected misprints, draw certain inferences from one staff to the other, provided that they are justified by the prevailing harmony. as a rule, the two staffs are independent of each other in regard to accidental chromatic signs. [sidenote: _why two names for the "same" key?_] i am often asked why there must be fifteen keys in music instead of twelve--that is, why not always write in b instead of c-flat, in f-sharp instead of g-flat, in d-flat instead of c-sharp, or _vice versa_? i can only say that the circle of fifths would not be complete without the seven scales in sharps and the seven in flats: but bach does not use all the fifteen keys in his forty-eight preludes and fugues, omitting entirely, in the major keys, g-flat, d-flat, and c-flat, and, in the minor keys, a-sharp and a-flat. are compositions in sharps considered more brilliant than those in flats? do composers consider modulation in selecting their key? the answer to your question hinges upon whether you recognize in music mere tone-play or whether you concede a mental and psychic side to it. in the former case the mode of spelling a tone c-sharp or d-flat would be, indeed, irrelevant. but in the latter case you must admit the necessity of a musical orthography qualified to convey distinct tonal meanings and musical thoughts to the reader and to the player. though there is in the tempered scale no difference between c-sharp and d-flat, the musical reader will conceive them as different from one another, partly because of their connection with other related harmonies. these determine usually the composer's selection in cases of enharmonic identities. in the script of human language you will find an analogy than which none could be more perfect. in english there are, for instance, "to," "too," and "two"; words in which the spelling alone, and not the sound of pronunciation, conveys the different meanings of the words. [sidenote: _the meaning and use of "motif"_] what is the meaning of a "motif"? what does a dash mean over a note? what is the best book of instruction for a beginner, a child of ten? a motif is the germ of a theme. a theme may be composed of reiterations of a motif, or by grouping several motifs together; it may also combine both modes of procedure. the most glorious exemplification of construction by reiteration of a motif you will find in the opening theme of beethoven's fifth symphony. a dash over a note enjoins the player to hold that note with the finger until it has received its full value. the best "instruction book" for a child is a good teacher who uses no instruction book, but imparts his knowledge to the child from out of his own inner consciousness. [sidenote: _tied staccato notes_] in playing notes written thus is it permissible to slide the fingers from the keys or should there be only a clinging touch? [illustration] notes marked as above are to be played in such a manner that each note is slightly separated from the next. the best touch for this is from the arm, so that the fingers are not lifted from their joints, nor from the wrist, but that the arm pulls the finger upward from the key. [sidenote: _the "tenuto" dash and its effect_] what do short lines below or above a note or chord mean in contradistinction to a staccato or an accent? and does it affect the whole chord? the dash under or above a note is a substitute for the word "tenuto" (usually abbreviated into "ten."), which means "held," or, in other words, be particular about giving this note its full sound-duration. this substitute is usually employed when the holding concerns a single note or a single chord. [sidenote: _a rolled chord marked "secco"_] how should i execute a chord that is written with a spread and also marked "secco"?--as in chaminade's "air de ballet, no. 1." roll the chord as evenly as possible in all its parts; but use no pedal and do not hold it, but play it briskly and short. [sidenote: _small notes under large ones_] what is the meaning of small notes printed under large ones? usually the small notes are an indication that they may be omitted by players who have not the stretch of hand necessary to play them. [sidenote: _accenting a mordent in a sonata_] how should one play and accent the mordent occurring in the forty-seventh measure of the first movement--allegro di molto--of beethoven's sonata pathétique, opus 13? the accent ought to lie upon the first note of the mordent, but you should not make a triplet of it by occupying the whole quarter with its execution. the mordent must be played fast enough to preserve the rhythmic integrity of the melody-note. [sidenote: _the position of the turn over a note_] [illustration] the turn stands sometimes directly over the note and sometimes farther to the right of it. does this difference indicate different executions and, if so, how would the two turns have to be played? the turn always begins with its uppermost note. when it stands directly over a note it takes the place of this note; when more to the right the note is struck first and the turn, judiciously distributed at the time of its disposal, follows. [sidenote: _how are syncopated notes to be played?_] how are syncopated notes to be played? notes occurring an entire beat of the prescribed time are, when syncopated, to be played between the beats. if the syncopated notes occupy only a fraction of the beats they are played between the fractional beats. [sidenote: _a trill begins on the melodic note_] in modern compositions should all trills begin upon the note which is written, presuming there is no appoggiatura before the note? is the alternation of the thumb and the second finger desirable in the playing of a trill? where not expressly otherwise stated (by appoggiatura) trills usually begin upon the melodic tone (the note which is written). change fingers when those employed get tired. for extended trills the use of three fingers is advantageous, while in shorter trills two fingers will preserve more clarity. [sidenote: _position of auxiliary note in a trill_] in the accompanying example of the trill should the auxiliary note be a tone or a half-tone above the principal note? if the half-tone, what would be the name of the auxiliary note? [illustration] the episode you quote moves evidently in the tonality of g minor. the trill stands on b-flat. as the auxiliary note of a trill is ever the diatonic sequel of a stated note it must, in this case, be a whole tone above b-flat, namely c. since the piece is written in d major there should have been a "natural" marked under the sign of the trill. [sidenote: _speed and smoothness in trilling_] will you kindly suggest a good method of gaining speed and smoothness in trilling? while there are no "methods" for trilling there are certain means by which sluggish muscles may be assisted. yet, even these means cannot be suggested without knowing the seat and cause of your trouble. the causes differ with the individual, but they are, in the majority of cases, purely mental, not manual. to trill quickly we must think quickly; for if we trill only with the fingers they will soon stick, lose their rhythmic succession, and finish in a cramped condition. hence, there is no direct way to learn trilling; it will develop with your general mental-musical advancement. the main thing is, of course, always to listen to your own playing, actually and physically, to perceive every tone you play; for only then can you form an estimate as to how quickly you can "hear." and, of course, you do not expect to play anything more quickly than your own ear can follow. [sidenote: _difference in playing trills_] what is the difference in the manner of playing the trill in measure 25, and those in measures 37 and 38, of the chopin polonaise, opus 53? the significance of the trill in measure 25 is melodic, while that of the trills in measures 37 and 38 is purely rhythmic, somewhat in the nature of a snare-drum effect. the first trill requires greater stress on the melodic note, while in the other two you may throw your hand, so to speak, on both notes and roll the trill until it lands upon the next eighth-note. [sidenote: _the meaning of solfeggio_] what is meant by "spelling" in music? unless it means the variety of ways in which most chords can be written it refers to an oral reciting of notes, properly called solfeggio. about certain pieces and composers [sidenote: _some pieces for a girl of fourteen_] please tell me some pieces of the classics which are not too difficult for my daughter of fourteen to play. she has a great deal of talent but not much technique. the kuhlau sonatinas she can play very well. if your daughter is fourteen years old and has--as you say--much talent but little technique, it is high time to think of developing her technique, for a pianist without technique is like a pleasure traveller without money. at any rate, i should prefer the easier sonatas by haydn and mozart to those of kuhlau, because of their greater intrinsic merit. any good teacher will assist you in selecting them to fit your daughter's case. [sidenote: _in playing a sonata_] in playing sonatas my teacher tells me it is a great fault if i neglect to observe the repeat marks. i have heard it said by others that the repetition is not necessary, though it may be desirable. will you please give me your opinion? in a sonata it is of serious importance to repeat the first part (exposition) of the first movement in order that the two principal themes, as well as their tributaries, may well impress themselves upon the mind and memory of your auditor. for, unless this is accomplished, he cannot possibly understand and follow their development in the next part. that the exposition part is not the only one to be repeated you will find frequently indicated; for instance, in the last movement of the "appassionata," where the repetition is needful, not for the reason stated before, but for the sake of formal balance or proportion. generally speaking, i am in favour of following the composer's indications punctiliously, hence, also, his repeat marks, which serve æsthetic purposes that you will perhaps not understand until later, when the sonata has, in your hands, outgrown the stage of being learned. [sidenote: _a point in playing the "moonlight sonata"_] should not the notes of the triplet figure in beethoven's "moonlight sonata" be so blended into each other that you do not hear them in separate notes, but as a background, so to speak, for the notes in the melody? the truth lies midway between two extremes. while the accompaniment should be sufficiently subdued to form, as you say, a harmonic background, it ought, nevertheless, not to be blended to such a degree as to obliterate entirely the undercurrent of a triplet motion. the accumulation of each chord should be produced through the pedal, not through an excessive legato touch. [sidenote: _playing the "spring song" too fast_] should mendelssohn's "spring song" be played in slow or fast time? it is marked "allegretto grazioso." the latter term (graceful, in english) precludes a too-quick movement. [sidenote: _what a dot may mean_] this is the seventh measure of chopin's polonaise, opus 26, no. 1. what is the meaning of the dot placed after the d in the bass? whenever this measure is repeated the dot occurs, or i should have thought it a misprint. [illustration] the left-hand notes follow each other as eighth-notes. their respective duration, however, is indicated by the upward stems and the dot. it is intended here that a complete chord should be built up by accumulation, as in illustration _a_: [illustration] and i would also hold the fifth eighth as in illustration _b_. [sidenote: _where the accent should be placed_] in playing chopin's impromptu in a-flat, opus 29, should the first or the last note of the mordent receive the accent? i have heard the mordent sound like a triplet? is this the correct accent? the last note of the mordent should be accented in this case. [sidenote: _a disputed chopin reading_] in chopin's nocturne in f-sharp, after the _doppio_ movement, when returning to tempo i, and counting five measures, should the right hand in the fifth measure play this melody? [illustration] the various editions differ from one another in this measure. peters's edition, generally considered the best edition of chopin's works, has the second version, which commends itself by its greater naturalness. [sidenote: _playing the "melody in f"_] in rubinstein's "melody in f" should the melody be played in the left hand or be divided between the two hands? where there is no valid reason for doing otherwise it is always best to follow the composer's prescription; for, in most cases--and with great composers in all cases--the author knows what he meant to say. in the aforesaid piece, too, i advise you to adhere to this principle, since it is written with a view to teach the division of the melody between the right and left hand. any other execution would ruin this purposed design. [sidenote: _when two fingers have the same note_] in schumann's "blumenstück," third number, the uppermost notes of the left hand are identical with the lowest of the right hand. should the thumbs of both hands strike the same keys at the same time all the way through or should the left hand omit them? the left hand should omit them, but be careful to omit only those that are really duplicates. there are a few places toward the end of each section where the left-hand notes differ from those in the right. in those cases you must be careful to play all the notes that are written. bach [sidenote: _the beginner in bach music_] can you give me a few helpful suggestions in a preliminary study of bach? a totality consists of many parts. if you cannot master the totality of a work by bach try each part by itself. take one part of the right hand, one part of the left, add a third part, and so on until you have all the parts together. but be sure to follow out the line of each separate part (or "voice," as the continentals say). do not lose patience. remember that rome was not built in a day. [sidenote: _bach's music necessary to good technique_] do you think the study of bach is necessary to the development of one's technique, or should one let his music alone until a later day when one's technique is in good condition? some of his music seems so dry. bach's music is not the only music that develops the technique. there is, for instance, the music of czerny and clementi to be considered. but bach's music is particularly qualified to develop the fingers in conjunction with musical expression and thematic characterization. you may start with czerny and clementi, but you ought soon to turn to bach. that some of his music seems dry to you may be due to your mental attitude by which you possibly expect from ecclesiastical music what only the opera can give you. think yourself into his style and you will find a mine of never-dreamed-of enjoyment. [sidenote: _always keep in touch with bach_] do you think that the playing of bach's works will keep one's hands in good technical condition? and which is the best edition of bach's piano works? bach is good for the soul as well as for the body, and i recommend that you never lose touch with him. which is the best edition would be hard to say, but i have found the peters edition to be very good. [sidenote: _bach's preludes and fugues_] what is the plan of a "fugue," how does it differ from an "invention" and "prelude," and what is the purpose of studying the pieces so named by bach? the explanation of the plan of a fugue would exceed by far the limits of the space at my disposal. it would require a text-book, of which there are many to be found in every good music store. the fugue is the most legitimate representation of true polyphony. its difference from an invention is expressed in the two names. a fugue (_fuga_, flight) is the flight of one musical thought through many voices or parts, subject to strict rules, while an invention is an accumulation of thoughts moving with absolute freedom. the definition of prelude, as something which intentionally precedes and fittingly introduces a main action, fits the musical prelude perfectly; especially in the case of bach. the purpose of all these forms is that of all good music-making, namely, the purification and development of good taste in music. [sidenote: _as to the bach fugues_] of the bach fugues do you consider the c sharp major difficult to memorize, or do you advise the use of the d flat arrangement instead? such little differences have never bothered me, and i can therefore hardly answer your question definitely. it has been frequently observed--though never explained--that to many people it comes easier to read music in d flat than in c sharp. hence, if you prefer the d flat edition it will reduce the difficulty for you. possibly this more accessible version may aid you optically or visually in your work of memorizing. beethoven [sidenote: _order of studying beethoven's sonatas_] i am just beginning to reach an intelligent interpretation of beethoven's music. now, in what order should the sonatas be studied? if you should really have the laudable intention to study all the sonatas of beethoven for your repertory i should think that you may safely take them up very much in the order in which they are printed, with the exception of opus 53 and the appassionata, which--spiritually as well as technically--rank with the last five. the steingräber edition, however, furnishes a very fair order of difficulty in the index to the sonatas. [sidenote: _the beethoven sonata with a pastoral character_] my teacher calls the sonata opus 28, by beethoven, the "pastoral" sonata. i have not found anything "pastoral" in any of the movements. is it because i do not understand it, or is the name a mere amateurish invention? the name "pastoral sonata" could, no doubt, be traced to an arbitrary invention, perhaps of some over-smart publisher endeavouring to heighten the attractiveness of the sonata to the general public by the addition of a suggestive title. yet it seems to fit the sonata pretty well, because, really, its main characteristic is a rural sort of peaceful repose. especially the first movement is of a tranquillity which, surely, does not suggest the life of a metropolis. but in the other movements, too, there are many episodes which by their naïveté and good-natured boisterousness indicate the life of the village. [sidenote: _a few, well played, are enough_] must i play all the sonatas of beethoven's in order to become a good player, or is a certain number of them sufficient, and, if so, how many would you advise? since the playing of all the sonatas does not necessarily prove that they were all well played, i think it is better to play one sonata well than to play many of them badly. nor should beethoven's sonatas be regarded as a musical drilling-ground, but rather as musical revelations. as they are not all on precisely the same high plane of thought, it is not necessary to play them all. to familiarize yourself with beethoven's style and grandeur of thought it is sufficient to have mastered six or eight of his sonatas; though that number, at least, should be _mastered_. mendelssohn [sidenote: _the study of mendelssohn_] in a complete course for a piano student should the study of mendelssohn be included? which of his compositions are the most useful? mendelssohn is surely a composer who is not to be omitted. his melody alone, besides other virtues, entitles him to be included, for melody seems to grow scarce nowadays. to develop a fine cantilena his "songs without words" of slower motion, for instance, are just the thing. chopin [sidenote: _what is the best of chopin?_] which are the best compositions of chopin to study by one who really desires to know him? all the etudes, all the preludes, the ballades in a flat, g minor and f minor, the berceuse and the barcarolle. the mazurkas, nocturnes, waltzes, and polonaises you are probably familiar with; hence, i mention the aforesaid other works. generally speaking, of chopin a pianist should know everything. [sidenote: _the charm of chopin's touch_] what kind of touch did chopin have? since a description of his touch would require too much space i refer you to the book from which i gathered the most explicit information on this point. it is "the life of chopin," by frederick niecks (london and new york, novello, ewer & co.), and in the second volume, from page 94 to about 104, you will find what you wish to know, as far as it is possible to convey the charm of one art through the medium of another. since you seem interested in chopin i would recommend that you closely study both volumes of this masterly biographical work. [sidenote: _mood and tempo in the a-flat impromptu_] what is the tempo (by metronome) of chopin's impromptu in a-flat, and what idea did the composer embody in it? the editions vary in their metronome markings and i believe none of them. your tempo will largely depend upon the state of your technique. to the second question my reply is that chopin has composed "music" which--as you know--represents thoughts only in a musical sense, otherwise it deals with purely psychic processes, moods, etc. the humour of this impromptu is mainly an amiable, ingratiating one, here and there slightly tinged with a sweet melancholy. it should not be played too fast, for it easily loses this latter attribute and then sounds like a czerny exercise. a moderate tempo will also tend to bring out the many charming harmonic turns which, in too quick a tempo, are likely to be lost. [sidenote: _chopin's barcarolle_] in chopin's barcarolle there is a number of trills preceded by grace notes. are they to be executed according to philipp emmanuel bach's rule, so that the grace notes take their time from the note that follows them? philipp emmanuel bach's rule is a safe one to follow, but do not confound a rule with a law. if you have reached that plane on which an attempt at the barcarolle by chopin is rational, you must feel that your individual taste will not lead you too far astray even if it should prompt you occasionally to depart from the rule. [sidenote: _chopin's works for a popular concert_] what works of chopin would you suggest for a popular concert programme? nocturne, opus 27, no. 2; fantasy impromptu, opus 66; scherzo, opus 31; berceuse, opus 57; valse, opus 64, no. 2; polonaise, opus 26, no. 1; chants polonais (in liszt's transcription). [sidenote: _taking liberties with the tempo_] in playing chopin may one take liberties with the tempo and play different parts of the same mazurka or nocturne in various degrees of tempo? undoubtedly. but the extent of such liberties depends upon your æsthetic training. in principle your question admits of an affirmative reply, but a specific answer is impossible without an acquaintance with your musical status. i recommend that you be very cautious about "taking liberties"; without, however, ceasing altogether to follow the promptings of your good taste here and there. there is such a thing as "artistic conscience"; consult it always before taking a liberty with the tempo. [sidenote: _omitting one note in a chord_] [illustration] in the beginning of the waltz in e minor by chopin the left hand has to play this chord a number of times. i can stretch any three of the four notes, but not all four. can one of them be omitted, and which one? you may omit the upper e, the second note from the top, but you may do so only so long as it is physically impossible for you to strike all the four notes. for, by omitting this note you do alter the tone colour of the chord as well as its sonority. as soon as you have acquired the requisite stretch--and anybody who does possess it--i would advise that the note be not unnecessarily omitted. chopin evidently meant to have that note played. [sidenote: _masters cannot be studied in order_] will you give me your views as to the order in which the masters of piano composition should be studied? to classify composers, without specifying their works, is never advisable. beethoven's first and last sonatas differ so fundamentally from each other in every particular that one may play the first one very well and yet be for many years (perhaps forever) unable to play the last one. and still, it is the same beethoven that wrote both works. we can, therefore, hardly speak of an "order of composers." so long as we are dealing with masters the question should not be: which master?--but, which composition does your stage of mental and technical development call for? if you will defer the study of any other composer until you have fully mastered the works of beethoven--only the principal ones, at that--you will need a life of more length than the bible allots to the average man. [sidenote: _the greatest composers as pianists_] is it true that nearly all the great composers have been pianists? if by pianists you mean musicians whose sole medium of audible musical utterance was the piano, your question admits of no other than an affirmative reply. the only exception i can think of just now was berlioz; there were, no doubt, others, but none who belongs to the truly great ones. the reason for this is, perhaps, the circumstance that the pianist throughout his education is brought into touch with greater polyphony than the players of other instruments, and that polyphony is a basic principle in music. [sidenote: _the study of operatic transcriptions_] is the study of thalberg's operatic transcriptions of any value to the piano student? operatic transcriptions begin with liszt. what was written before him in that line (and in some degree contemporary with him, hence it includes thalberg) is hardly of any significance. if you feel a special inclination toward the transcriptions of thalberg you may play them; they will not harm you so very much. but if you ask me whether they are of any musical value i must frankly say, no. [sidenote: _modern piano music_] are such pieces as "beautiful star of heaven" or "falling waters" in good taste? what contemporary composers write good piano music? pieces with pretentious names are usually devoid of such contents as their names imply, so that the names are merely a screen to hide the paucity of thoughts and ideas. speaking very generally, there seems to be not very much good music written for the piano just at present. by far the best comes from russia. most of these compositions are rather difficult to play, but there are some easy ones to be found among them, such as the "music box," by liadow, "fantastic fairy tales," no. 12, by pachulski, and others. exercises and studies [sidenote: _exercises for the beginner to practise_] is there any special book of practice exercises that you think best for a beginner and that you would care to recommend? any reliable music publisher will tell you which book of exercises is most in demand. the effect of the exercises depends, of course, upon the way you play them. indications as to touch, etc., are usually given in such books. what kind of exercises your case demands cannot be determined without a personal examination by an expert. [sidenote: _good finger exercises_] what would you say are the best studies for plain finger work? the exercises of "pischna" are to be recommended. they have appeared in two editions, of which one is abridged. they are known as the "large" and the "small pischna." you may obtain them through any large music house, i think, in the steingräber edition. [sidenote: _the value of heller's studies_] are heller's studies practical for a young student lacking in rhythm and expression? yes, they are very good, provided the teacher insists that the pupil plays exactly what is indicated and does not merely "come near it." [sidenote: _good intermediate books of etudes_] living in the country, where there is no teacher available, i would thank you for telling me what etudes i ought to study. i have finished those by cramer and moscheles, and can play them well, but find those by chopin too difficult. are there no intermediate works? you seem to be fond of playing etudes. well, then, i suggest: "twelve etudes for technique and expression," by edmund neupert. "concert etudes," by hans seeling (peters edition). "etudes," by carl baermann (two books), published in germany. "etudes," by ruthardt (peters edition). but why not select an easy etude by chopin and make a start? the best preparation--if not the etudes themselves--is heller's opus 154. [sidenote: _etudes for advanced players to work at_] what regular technical work would you prescribe for a fairly advanced pianist--one who plays pretty well such things as the chopin etudes in c minor, opus 10, no. 12, and in d flat, opus 25, no. 8, and the b flat minor prelude? my advice to advanced players is always that they should construct their technical exercises out of such material as the different places in the pieces at hand furnish. if you should feel the need of etudes for increasing your endurance and control of protracted difficult passages i suggest that you take up the etudes by baermann and those by kessler. the former are a little easier than the latter. [sidenote: _the value of clementi's "gradus" to-day_] my first teacher laid great store by clementi's "gradus ad parnassum," and insisted upon taking every study in it, while my new teacher, with whom i recently started lessons, says that it is "outlived, superannuated." was my old or my new teacher right? they were both right; one as a pedagogue, the other as a musician. as you do not mention the reason of your first teacher's insistence, i must assume that he employed the "gradus" as exercises, pure and simple. it serves this purpose quite well, though even as studies for the applying of technical disciplines they are, on account of their dryness, "outlived," as your new teacher correctly says. modern writers have produced studies which combine with their technical usefulness greater musical value and attractiveness. polyrhythms [sidenote: _playing duple time against triple_] how must i execute triplets played against two-eighths? in clementi's sonatina, opus 37, no. 3, first page, you will find such bars. in a slow tempo it may serve you to think of the second eighth-note of the triplet as being subdivided into two sixteenths. after both hands have played the first note of their respective groups simultaneously, the place of the aforesaid second sixteenth is to be filled by the second note of the couplet. in faster motion it is far better to practise at first each hand alone and with somewhat exaggerated accents of each group until the two relative speeds are well established in the mind. then try to play the two hands together in a sort of semi-automatic way. frequent correct repetition of the same figure will soon change your semi-automatic state into a conscious one, and thus train your ear to listen to and control two different rhythms or groupings at the same time. [sidenote: _the two hands playing different rhythms_] how should, in chopin's fantasy impromptu, the four notes of the right be played to the three of the left? is an exact division possible? an exact division would lead to such fractions as the musician has no means of measuring and no terms for expressing. there is but one way to play unequal rhythms simultaneously in both hands; study each hand separately until you can depend upon it, and put them together without thinking of either rhythm. think of the points where the two hands have to meet, the "dead points" of the two motions, and rely on your automatism until, by frequent hearing, you have learned to listen to two rhythms at once. [sidenote: _the old problem of duple time against triple_] [illustration] how should the above-quoted notes be brought in with the lower triplets? it would be futile to attempt a precise and conscious division in such cases. the best, in fact, the only, way to do is to practise the hands separately with an exaggerated accent on each beat until the points where the hands meet are well conceived and the relative speed ratios are well understood. then try to play the hands together, and do not be discouraged if the first attempts fail. repeat the trial often and you will finally succeed if the separate practice has been sufficient to produce a semi-automatic action of the hands. phrasing [sidenote: _the value and correct practice of phrasing_] can you give an amateur a concise definition of phrasing and a few helpful suggestions as to clear phrasing? phrasing is a rational division and subdivision of musical sentences, and serves to make them intelligible. it corresponds closely with punctuation in literature and its recitation. find out the start, the end, and the culminating point of your phrase. the last-named is usually to be found upon the highest note of the phrase, while the former are usually indicated by phrasing slurs. generally speaking, the rising of the melody is combined with an increase of strength up to the point of culmination, where, in keeping with the note design, the decrease of strength sets in. for artistic phrasing it is of the utmost importance properly to recognize the principal mood of the piece, for this must, naturally, influence the rendition of every detail in it. a phrase occurring in an agitated movement, for instance, will have to be rendered very differently from a similar-looking phrase in a slow, dreamy movement. [sidenote: _do not raise wrist in marking a rest_] in observing a rest should the hand be raised from the wrist? never! such a motion should be made only in rapid wrist octaves or other double notes when a staccato is prescribed. the regular way to conclude a phrase, or observe a pause, as you say, is to lift the arm from the keyboard and keep the wrist perfectly limp, so that the arm carries the loosely hanging hand upward. rubato [sidenote: _as to playing rubato_] will you please tell me what is the best method of playing rubato? the artistic principles ruling rubato playing are good taste and keeping within artistic bounds. the physical principle is balance. what you shorten of the time in one phrase or part of a phrase you must add at the first opportunity to another in order that the time "stolen" (rubato) in one place may be restituted in another. the æsthetic law demands that the total time-value of a music piece shall not be affected by any rubato, hence, the rubato can only have sway within the limits of such time as would be consumed if the piece were played in the strictest time. [sidenote: _how to play passages marked "rubato"_] i find an explanation of _tempo rubato_ which says that the hand which plays the melody may move with all possible freedom, while the accompanying hand must keep strict time. how can this be done? the explanation you found, while not absolutely wrong, is very misleading, for it can find application only in a very few isolated cases; only inside of one short phrase and then hardly satisfactorily. besides, the words you quote are not an explanation, but a mere assertion or, rather, allegation. _tempo rubato_ means a wavering, a vacillating of time values, and the question whether this is to extend over both hands or over only one must be decided by the player's good taste; it also depends upon whether the occupation of the two hands can be thought of as separate and musically independent. i assume that you are able to play each hand alone with perfect freedom, and i doubt not that you can, with some practice, retain this freedom of each hand when you unite them, but i can see only very few cases to which you could apply such skill, and still less do i see the advantage thereof. [sidenote: _perfect rubato the result of momentary impulse_] in playing _rubato_ do you follow a preconceived notion or the impulse of the moment? perfect expression is possible only under perfect freedom. hence, the perfect _rubato_ must be the result of momentary impulse. it is, however, only a few very eminent players that have such command over this means of expression as to feel safe in trusting their momentary impulses altogether. the average player will do well carefully to consider the shifting of time values and to prepare their execution to a certain degree. this should not, however, be carried too far, as it would impair the naturalness of expression and lead to a stereotyped mannerism. [sidenote: _the difference between conception and rubato_] is there any difference between conception and _rubato?_ conception is a generic term and comprises the service of each and all means of expression, among which _rubato_ plays a somewhat prominent part. for it is, so to speak, the musical pulse-beat of the player. being subordinate to conception, its function and manner must be governed by the latter. conception [sidenote: _different conceptions may be individually correct_] can one and the same phrase be conceived differently by different artists and still be individually correct in each instance? certainly! provided that--whatever the conception be--it preserves the logical relations of the parts in building up the phrase, and that it is carried through the whole course of the piece in a consistent manner. whether a certain conception of a phrase is or is not compatible with the general character of the piece and how far the freedom of conception may extend, it will be for the æsthetic training and the good taste of the player to determine for each and every case separately. [sidenote: _which should come first--conception or technique?_] in the first attempts at a new piece must matters of conception be observed at once or only after the piece has been technically mastered? unless one is a very experienced reader it will be hardly possible to think of matters of conception until the technical means to express them and the necessary perspective of the piece have been gained. it is always safer first to make sure that the notes as such, and their respective times value have been read correctly, and that the technical difficulties have, to a fair degree, been overcome. this done, the question must be settled as to whether the general character of the piece is dramatic, _i. e._, tragic or conciliatory, melancholy, lyric, rhapsodic, humorous, or changeable, and so forth. only when our mind on this point is made up with the utmost definiteness, can we approach the details that are conditioned by the conception. force of example [sidenote: _hearing a piece before studying it_] should a pupil hear a piece played before studying it? if the pupil's imagination needs stimulation he should hear the piece well played before studying it. if, however, he is merely too lazy to find out the rhythm, melody, and so forth, and rather relies upon his purely imitative faculty, he should not hear it, but be compelled to do his own reading and thinking. theory [sidenote: _why the pianist should study harmony_] do you recommend the study of harmony and counterpoint to the piano student? by all means! to gain a musical insight into the pieces you play you must be able to follow the course of their harmonies and understand the contrapuntal treatment of their themes. without the knowledge gained through a serious study of harmony and counter-point your conceptions will be pure guesswork and will lack in outline and definiteness. [sidenote: _why so many different keys?_] why is it supposed to be necessary to have fifteen keys to complete the circle of fifths? why would not twelve suffice, and thus avoid duplicate keys? not fifteen, but twenty-five tonalities complete the circle of fifths, theoretically, and they are all necessary because of the many harmonic turns that occur in modern music and which could not be intelligently demonstrated unless we use the tonalities with seven, eight, nine or more sharps and flats. for otherwise we might have to change the signature so frequently as to become utterly confusing to even the most musicianly reader. c-sharp minor has but four sharps, yet the scale of its dominant (its next relative) has eight sharps. [sidenote: _the relation of harmony to piano-playing_] is it absolutely necessary for me to study harmony in connection with my piano? my teacher wants me to do it, but i don't see the use! of what benefit is harmony? of what benefit is the general school-work a child has to go through? to play the piano well a good hand and so many hours of practice are not sufficient; it requires a general musical education. this means, first and foremost, a knowledge of harmony, to which you may later add the study of counterpoint and forms. your teacher is absolutely right. [sidenote: _text-books on harmony_] would you care to recommend two or three of the best books on the study of harmony? the doctrine of harmony is ever the same, but the modes of teaching it are constantly changing and, i trust, improving. for this reason i feel a certain hesitation in recommending at this time the text-books which i studied many years ago, especially as i am not certain that they have been translated into english. i advise you, therefore, to inquire of some good teacher of harmony or, at least, of a reliable music publisher or dealer. e. f. richter and büssler wrote works of recognized merit, which, though no longer modern, may be safely studied. [sidenote: _learning to modulate_] is it possible to learn modulating from a book without the aid of a teacher, so as to connect two pieces of different tonality? possible, yes, but not probable; for since in your written exercises you are likely to err at times, you will need some one to point out your errors and so show you the way to correct them. generally speaking, i do not think much of studying the rudiments of anything without the aid of an experienced adviser. [sidenote: _studying counterpoint by one's self_] is it possible to study counterpoint without a teacher, and, if so, what book can you recommend for its study? it is quite possible, provided you are certain never to misunderstand your text-book and never to commit any errors. otherwise you will need the advice of an experienced musician in correcting them. a good teacher, however, is always better than a book for this study. of text-books there are a great many. any reliable music house will furnish you with a list of them. [sidenote: _should piano students try to compose?_] besides my study of the piano shall i try to compose if i feel the inclination and believe i have some talent for it? the practice of constructing will always facilitate your work of reconstructing, which is, practically, what the rendition of a musical work means. hence, i advise every one who feels able to construct even a modest little piece to try his hand at it. of course, if you can write only a two-step it will not enable you to reconstruct a beethoven sonata; still, there may be little places in the sonata that will clear up in your mind more quickly when you have come in touch with the technical act of putting down on paper what your mind has created, and you will altogether lose the attitude of the absolute stranger when facing a new composition. do not construe this, however, as an encouragement to write two-steps! [sidenote: _the student who wants to compose_] please advise me as to the best way of learning composition. which is the best work of that kind from which i could learn? first learn to write notes. copying all sorts of music is the best practice for that. then study the doctrine of harmony. follow it up by a study of the various forms of counterpoint. proceed to canon in its many kinds and intervals. take up the fugue. then study forms until you learn to feel them. books for every one of these stages there are many, but better than all the books is a good teacher. [sidenote: _the difference between major and minor scales_] what is the difference between the major and minor scale? does it lie in the arrangement of semitones or in the character, or in both? there are three differences: first, in the arrangement of the semitones; second, in the character; and, third, in the circumstance that the minor scale admits of a number of modifications for melodic purposes which cannot be made in the major scale. [sidenote: _there is only one minor scale_] which is the true minor scale, the melodic or the harmonic? my teacher insists upon the harmonic, but it sounds ugly to me. will you please tell me something about it? there is but one minor scale; it is the one upon which the chords of its tonality are built; it is the one upon which your teacher wisely insists, because the so-called melodic minor scale offers no new intervals to your fingers, and because the term melodic minor scale is applied to that form of deviation from the real scale which is most frequently used, but which is by no means the only deviation that is possible; nor is it the only one in use. [sidenote: _what is the difference between the major and minor scales?_] what is the difference between the major and minor scales? the major scale has a major third and sixth, while the minor scale has a minor third and sixth and raises its seventh to a major seventh by an accidental elevating sign, raising a natural note by a sharp, and a flat note by a natural. if you begin your major scale upon its sixth degree and, counting it as the first of the minor, raise the seventh, you obtain the minor scale, in which, however, many modifications are admissible for melodic (though not for harmonic) purposes. [sidenote: _how waltz, menuet, mazurka, and polonaise differ_] as a waltz and a menuet are both in three-fourth time, is it only the tempo in which they differ, or are there other differences? waltz, menuet, mazurka, and polonaise are all in three-fourth time and are not confined to a definite tempo. the difference between them lies in the structure. a waltz period--that is, the full expression of a theme--needs sixteen measures; a menuet needs only eight, a mazurka only four measures. in a mazurka a motive occupies only one measure, in the menuet two, and in the waltz four. the polonaise subdivides its quarters into eighths, and the second eighth usually into two sixteenths; it differs, therefore, from the other three dances by its rhythm. [sidenote: _the meaning of "toccata"_] what is the meaning of the word "toccata"? i do not find it in the italian lexicon and the english musical dictionaries differ widely in their definitions. none of their definitions seems to apply to the toccata by chaminade. to make the matter quite plain let me say, first, that "cantata" (from _cantare_--to sing) meant in olden times a music piece to be sung; while "sonata" (from _suonare_--to play) designated a piece to be played on an instrument; and "toccato" meant a piece for keyboard instruments like the organ or piano and its precursors, written with the intention of providing special opportunities for the display of the skill of touch (from _toccare_--to touch) or, as we would now say, finger technique. the original meanings have changed so that these terms now imply definite forms, like the modern cantata and sonata. the toccata is, at present, understood to be a piece in constant and regular motion, very much like those that are called "_moto perpetuo_" or "perpetual motion," of which weber's "perpetuum mobile" is a good example. i have no doubt that the toccata by chaminade, which i do not know, is written on similar lines. the memory [sidenote: _playing from memory is indispensable_] is memorization absolutely essential to a good player? playing from memory is indispensable to the freedom of rendition. you have to bear in your mind and memory the whole piece in order to attend properly to its details. some renowned players who take the printed sheets before them on the stage play, nevertheless, from memory. they take the music with them only to heighten their feeling of security and to counteract a lack of confidence in their memory--a species of nervousness. [sidenote: _the easiest way to memorize_] will you please tell me which is the easiest way to memorize a piano piece? begin by playing it a few times very carefully and slowly until you can play it with a fair degree of exactitude (you need not mind an occasional stopping). then go over such places as appeared to you especially complex until you understand their construction. now let the piece rest for a whole day and try to trace in your mind the train of thoughts in the piece. should you come to a dead stop be satisfied with what you have achieved. your mind will keep on working, subconsciously, as over a puzzle, always trying to find the continuation. if you find that the memory is a blank take the music in hand, look at the particular place--but only at this--and, since you have now found the connection, continue the work of mental tracing. at the next stop repeat this procedure until you have reached the end, not in every detail, but in large outlines. of course, this does not mean that you can now _play_ it from memory. you have only arrived at the point of transition from the imagined to the real, and now begins a new kind of study: to transfer to the instrument what you have mentally absorbed. try to do this piece by piece, and look into the printed sheets (which should not be on the music-rack but away from it) only when your memory absolutely refuses to go on. the real work with the printed music should be reserved to the last, and you should regard it in the light of a proof-reading of your mental impressions. the whole process of absorbing a piece of music mentally resembles that of photographing. the development of the acoustic picture (the tone-picture) is like the bath. the tentative playing is like the process of "fixing" against sensitiveness to lights; and the final work with the printed music is the retouching. [sidenote: _in order to memorize easily_] i find it very hard to memorize my music. can you suggest any method that would make it easier? to retain in one's memory what does not interest one is difficult to everybody, while that which does interest us comes easy. in your case the first requirement seems to be that your interest in the pieces you are to play be awakened. this interest usually comes with a deeper understanding of music; hence, it may be said that nothing will assist a naturally reluctant memory so much as a general musical education. special studies for the memory have not come to my knowledge because i never had any need of them. after all, the best way to memorize is--to memorize. one phrase to-day, another to-morrow, and so on, until the memory grows by its own force through being exercised. [sidenote: _memorizing quickly and forgetting as readily_] i memorize very easily, so that i can often play my pieces from memory before i have fully mastered their technical difficulties, as my teacher says. but i forget them just as quickly, so that in a few weeks i cannot remember enough of them to play them clear through. what would you advise, to make my memory more retentive? there are two fundamental types of memory: one is very mobile--it acquires quickly and loses just as quickly; the other is more cumbrous in its action--it acquires slowly, but retains forever. a combination of the two is very rare, indeed; i never heard of such a case. a remedy against forgetting you will find in refreshing your memory in regular periods, playing your memorized pieces over (carefully) every four or five days. other remedies i know not and i see no necessity for them. [sidenote: _to keep errors from creeping in_] i can always memorize a piece before i can play it fast. do you advise practising with notes when i already know it by heart? the occasional playing of a memorized piece from the notes will keep errors from creeping in, provided you read the music correctly and carefully. sight reading [sidenote: _the best way to improve sight-reading_] is there any practical method that will assist one to greater rapidity in sight-reading? the best way to become a quick reader is to read as much as possible. the rapidity of your progress depends upon the state of your general musical education, for the more complete this is the better you will be able to surmise the logical sequel of a phrase once started. a large part of sight-reading consists of surmising, as you will find upon analyzing your book-reading. [sidenote: _to gain facility in sight-reading_] what is a good plan to pursue to improve the facility in sight-reading? much reading and playing at sight and as fast as possible, even though at first some slight inaccuracies may creep in. by quick reading you develop that faculty of the eye which is meant by "grasp," and this, in turn, facilitates your reading of details. accompanying [sidenote: _learning to accompany at sight_] how can one learn to accompany at sight? develop your sight-reading by playing many accompaniments, and endeavour--while playing your part--also to read and inwardly hear the solo part. [sidenote: _the art of accompanying a soloist_] how should one manage the accompaniment for a soloist inclined to play rubato? since you cannot make a contract of artistically binding force with a soloist you must take refuge in "following." but do not take this word in its literal meaning; rather endeavour to divine the intentions of your soloist from moment to moment, for this divining is the soul of accompanying. to be, in this sense, a good accompanist, one must have what is called in musical slang a good "nose"--that is, one must musically "scent" whither the soloist is going. but, then, the nose is one of the things we are born with. we may develop it, as to its sensitiveness, but we cannot acquire a nose by learning. experience will do much in these premises, but not everything. [sidenote: _learning the art of accompanying_] wishing to become an accompanist i anticipate completing my studies in berlin. what salary might i expect and what would be the best "course" to pursue? an experienced and very clever accompanist may possibly earn as much as fifty dollars a week if associated with a vocal, violin, or 'cello artist of great renown. usually, however, accompanists are expected to be able to play solos. there are no special schools for accompanists, though there may be possibly some special courses in which experience may be fostered. if you come to berlin you will find it easy to find what you seem to be seeking. transposing [sidenote: _the problem of transposing at sight_] what, please, is the quickest and safest way of transposing from one key to another? i have trouble, for instance, in playing for singing if the piece is in a major and the singer wants it in f major. the question of transposing hinges on the process of hearing through the eye. i mean by this that you must study the piece until you learn to conceive the printed music as sounds and sound groups, not as key pictures. then transfer the sound picture to another tonality in your mind, very much as if when moving from one floor to another with all your household goods you were to place them on the new floor as they were placed on the old. practice will, of course, facilitate this process very much. transposition at sight is based on somewhat different principles. here you have to get mentally settled in the new tonality, and then follow the course of intervals. if you find transposition difficult you may derive consolation from the thought that it is difficult for everybody, and that transposing at sight is, of course, still more difficult than to transpose after studying the piece beforehand. playing for people [sidenote: _when to "play for people"_] during the period of serious study may i play for people (friends or strangers) or should i keep entirely away from the outside world? from time to time you may play for people the pieces you have mastered, but take good care to go over them afterward--the difficult places slowly--in order to eliminate any slight errors or unevenness that may have crept in. to play for people is not only a good incentive for further aspirations; it also furnishes you with a fairly exact estimate of your abilities and shortcomings, and indicates thereby the road to improvement. to retire from the outside world during the period of study is an outlived, obsolete idea which probably originated in the endeavour to curb the vanity of such students as would neglect their studies in hunting, prematurely, for applause. i recommend playing for people moderately and on the condition that for every such "performance" of a piece you play it afterward twice, slowly and carefully, at home. this will keep the piece intact and bring you many other unexpected advantages. [sidenote: "_afraid to play before people_"] i can never do myself justice when playing for people, because of my nervousness. how can i overcome it? if you are absolutely certain that your trouble is due to "nervousness" you should improve the condition of your nerves by proper exercise in the open air and by consulting your physician. but are you quite sure that your "nervousness" is not merely another name for self-consciousness, or, worse yet, for a "bad conscience" on the score of technical security? in the latter case you ought to perfect your technique, while in the former you must learn to discard all thought of your dear self, as well as of your hearers in relation to you, and concentrate your thinking upon the work you are to do. this you can well achieve by will-power and persistent self-training. [sidenote: _effect of playing the same piece often_] i have heard artists play the same piece year after year, and each time as expressively as before. after a piece has been played several hundred times it can hardly produce on the player the same emotional effect that it originally did. is it possible for a player by his art and technical resources so to colour his tones that he can stimulate and produce in his audience an emotional condition which he himself does not at the time feel? in music emotion can be conveyed only through the means and modes of expression that are peculiar to music, such as dynamic changes, vacillations of tempo, differences of touch and kindred devices. when a piece is played in public very often on consecutive occasions--which artists avoid as much as they can--these expressions gradually assume a distinct form which is quite capable of preservation. though it will in time lose its life-breath, it can still produce a deception just as (to draw a drastic parallel) a dead person may look as if he were only asleep. in this parallel the artist has, however, one great advantage. since he cannot play a piece very often without having a number of errors, rearrangements, slight changes creeping into it, he must, in order to eliminate them and to cleanse the piece, return from time to time to slow practice in which he also refrains almost entirely from expression. when in the next public performance the right tempo and expression are added again they tend strongly to renew the freshness of the piece in the player's mind. [sidenote: _the pianist who fails to express herself_] i love music dearly and my teacher is always satisfied with my lessons, but when i play for my friends i never make a success. they compliment me, but i feel that they do not care for my playing; even my mother says that my playing is "mechanical." how can i change it? it is just possible that your friends and your mother may not be amenable to the high class of music which you play, but if this is not the case your affliction cannot be cured offhand. if the lack of expression in your playing should emanate from a lack of feeling in yourself, then your case would be incurable. if, however, you play "mechanically" because you do not know how to express your emotions in your playing--and i suspect it to be so--then you are curable, although there are no remedies that would act directly. i suggest that you form close associations with good musicians and with lovers of good music. by looking well and listening you can learn their modes of expression and employ them first by imitation until the habit of "saying something" when you play has grown upon you. i think, though, that you need an inward change before there can be any outward change. [sidenote: _the art of playing with feeling_] in the musical manifestations of feeling how does the artist chiefly differ from the amateur? the artist expresses his feelings with due deference to the canons of art. above all, he plays correctly without allowing this ever-present correctness to make his playing seem lacking in feeling. without unduly repressing or suppressing his individuality he respects the composer's intentions by punctiliously obeying every hint or suggestion he finds in the annotations, concerning speed, force, touch, changes, contrasts, etc. he delivers the composer's message truthfully. his personality or individuality reveals itself solely in the way he understands the composition and in the manner in which he executes the composer's prescriptions. not so the amateur. long before he is able to play the piece correctly he begins to twist and turn things in it to suit himself, under the belief, i suppose, that he is endowed with an "individuality" so strong as to justify an indulgence in all manner of "liberties," that is, licence. feeling is a great thing; so is the will to express it; but both are worthless without ability. hence, before playing with feeling, it were well to make sure that everything in the piece is in the right place, in the right time, strength, touch, and so forth. correct reading--and not only of the notes _per se_--is a matter that every good teacher insists upon with his pupils, even in the earliest grades of advancement. the amateur should make sure of that before he allows his "feelings" to run riot. but he very seldom does. [sidenote: _affected movements at the piano_] is there any justification for the swaying of the body, the nodding of the head, the exaggerated motion of the arms, and all grotesque actions in general while playing the piano, so frequently exhibited not only by amateurs but by concert players, too? all such actions as you describe reveal a lack of the player's proper self-control when they are unconsciously indulged in. when they are consciously committed, which is not infrequently the case, they betray the pianist's effort to deflect the auditors' attention from the composition to himself, feeling probably unable to satisfy his auditors with the result of his playing and, therefore, resorting to illustration by more or less exaggerated gesture. general well-manneredness, or its absence, has a good deal to do with the matter. about the piano per se [sidenote: _is the piano the hardest to master?_] do you believe that the piano is the most difficult of all instruments to master--more so than the organ or the violin? if so, why? the piano is more difficult to master than the organ, because the tone-production on the piano is not so purely mechanical as it is on the organ. the pianist's touch is the immediate producer of whatever variety or colour of tone the moment requires, whereas the organist is powerless to produce any change of tone colour except by pulling a different stop. his fingers do not and cannot produce the change. as to string instruments, their difficulties lie in an entirely different field, and this fact precludes comparison with the piano. technically, the string instrument may be more difficult, but, to become an exponent of musical art on the piano requires deeper study, because the pianist must present to his hearers the totality of a composition while the string instruments depend for the most part upon the accompaniments of some other instruments. [sidenote: _piano study for conductor and composer_] being a cornet player, and wishing to become a conductor and composer, i should like to know if the study of the piano is necessary in addition to my broad, theoretical studies and a common college course. it depends upon what you wish to conduct and what to compose. with no other means of musically expressing yourself than a cornet it is highly improbable that you will be able to write or conduct a symphony. but you may be able to lead a brass band and, perhaps, to write a march or dance piece. if your musical aims are serious by all means take to the piano. [sidenote: _why the piano is so popular_] why do more people play the piano than any other instrument? because the rudimentary stages of music study are easier on the piano than on any other instrument. the higher stages, however, are so much more difficult, and it is then that the piano gets even with the bold aggressor. a violinist or 'cellist who can play a melody simply and with good tone is considered a fairly good amateur, for he must have mastered the difficulty of tone-production; he must have trained his right arm. a pianist who can play a melody equally well is the merest tyro. when he approaches polyphony, when the discrimination begins between the various parts speaking simultaneously, aye, then the real work begins--not to speak of velocity. it is, perhaps, for this reason that in reality there are a great many more violinists than pianists, if by either we mean persons who really master their instrument. the number of 'cellists is smaller, but the reason for this is to be found in the small range of 'cello literature and also, perhaps, in the comparative unwieldiness of the instrument, which does not admit of technical development as, for instance, the more handy violin. if all beginners at the piano realized what exasperating, harassing, discouraging, nerve-consuming difficulties await them later and beset the path to that mastery which so few achieve, there would be far fewer piano students and more people would study the violin or the 'cello. of the harp and the wind instruments i need not speak, because they are to be considered only in matters orchestral and not--seriously--as solo instruments. [sidenote: _the genuine piano hand_] what shape of hand do you consider the best for piano playing? mine is very broad, with rather long fingers. the best piano hand is not the popular, pretty, narrow hand with long fingers. nearly all the great technicians had or have proportioned hands. the genuine piano hand must be broad, in order to give each finger a strong base for the action of its phalanges and to give this base space enough for the development of the various sets of muscles. the length of the fingers must be in proportion to the width of the hand, but it is the width which i consider most important. [sidenote: _the composition must fit the player_] would you advise players with small hands to attempt the heavier class of the compositions by liszt? never! whether the hands are too small or the stretch between the fingers too narrow--if you attempt a piece which for these or other physical reasons you cannot fully master, you always run the serious risk of overstraining. this, however, should be most carefully avoided. if you cannot play a certain piece without undue physical strain, leave it alone and remember that singers choose their songs not because they lie within their compass, but because they suit their voice. do likewise. be guided by the nature and the type of your hand rather than by its rapidity of execution. [sidenote: _the best physical exercise for the pianist_] what physical exercises are most advantageous to be taken in connection with piano practice? i have been swinging clubs to strengthen wrists and arms, but have imagined it stiffened my fingers. i am inclined to think that what you imagined was not far from the truth. can you not replace the real clubs by imaginary ones? since club-swinging tends to develop the agility of the arms and wrists rather than their strength you can easily make the same motions without the clubs; for all exertion of force that keeps the hands in a closed condition is bound to have a bad effect on piano playing. undoubtedly the best exercise of all, however, is brisk walking in the open air, for it engages every part and every organ of the body, and by compelling deep breathing it fosters the general health through increased oxygenation. [sidenote: _horseback riding stiffens the fingers_] my teacher objects to my riding horseback; not altogether, but he says i overdo it and it stiffens my fingers. is he right? yes, he is. every abuse carries its own punishment in its train. the closed position of the hand, the pressure of the reins upon the fingers, as constant as it is the case in horseback riding, is surely not advantageous for the elasticity of the fingers. you should, therefore, allow the effect of one ride upon your fingers to disappear completely before you indulge in another. [sidenote: _when to keep away from the piano_] do you think i should play and study the piano just because it is asked of me, and when i take no interest in it? most emphatically, no! it would be a crime against yourself and against music. what little interest in music you may have left would be killed by a study that is distasteful to you, and this would be, therefore, bound to lead to failure. leave this study to people who are sincerely interested in it. thank heaven, there are still some of those, and there always will be some! be sure, however, that you are really not interested, and discriminate well between a lack of interest and a mere opposition to a perhaps too strenuous urging on the part of your relatives. my advice would be to quit the study for a time entirely; if, after a while, you feel a craving for music you will find the way to your instrument. this advice, of course, holds good also for violin students or any type of music student. bad music [sidenote: _the company that one keeps in music_] must i persist in playing classical pieces when i prefer to play dance music? if, in your daily life, you wish to be regarded as a lady or a gentleman you are obliged to be careful as to the company you keep. it is the same in musical life. if you associate with the noble thoughts that constitute good--or, as you call it, classical--music, you will be counted with a higher class in the world of music. remember that you cannot go through a flour-mill without getting dusty. of course, not all pieces of dance music are bad; but the general run of them are such poor, if not vulgar, stuff as hardly to deserve the name of "compositions." usually they are mere "expositions" of bad taste. of these i warn you for your own sake, and if you wish to avoid the danger of confounding the good and the bad in that line it is best to abstain from it entirely. if dance music it must be, why, have you never heard of the waltzes and mazurkas by chopin? [sidenote: _why rag-time is injurious_] do you believe the playing of the modern rag-time piece to be actually hurtful to the student? i do, indeed, unless it is done merely for a frolic; though even such a mood might vent itself in better taste. the touch with vulgarity can never be but hurtful, whatever form vulgarity may assume--whether it be literature, a person, or a piece of music. why share the musical food of those who are, by breeding or circumstance, debarred from anything better? the vulgar impulse which generated rag-time cannot arouse a noble impulse in response any more than "dime novels" can awaken the instincts of gentlemanliness or ladyship. if we watch the street-sweeper we are liable to get dusty. but remember that the dust on the mind and soul is not so easily removed as the dust on our clothes. ethical [sidenote: _what the object of study should be_] how can we know that our talent is great enough to warrant us in bestowing year after year of work upon its development? pleasure and interest should be such that it is in the actual working that one is repaid. do not think so much of the end of your work. do not force your work with the one view of becoming a great artist. let providence and the future decide your standing in music. go on studying with earnestness and interest, and find your pleasure in the endeavour, not in the accomplishment. pitch and kindred matters [sidenote: _the international pitch_] what is meant by "pitch" as regards piano tuning? people say that a certain piano is pitched lower than another. would e on one piano actually sound like f on another? yes, it would if the pianos were not pitched alike. it is only recently that an international pitch has been established which was adopted everywhere except in england. in the international pitch the a in the second space of the treble staff makes 435 vibrations a second. [sidenote: _the "international" piano pitch_] which piano pitch is preferable, "concert" or "international"? by all means the "international," because it will fit your piano to be used in conjunction with any other instrument, no matter whence it may come. besides, the international pitch was decided upon as far back as 1859, in paris, by a government commission, numbering among its members such men as auber, halévy, berlioz, meyerbeer, rossini, ambroise thomas, and many physicists and army generals. you can easily infer from this that, in determining that the a in the second space of the treble staff should have 435 vibrations a second, all phases of music--vocal, instrumental, string, brass, wood, wind--have been duly considered. [sidenote: _the well-tempered piano scale_] is there really a difference of three-eighths of a tone between a-sharp and b-flat on the piano? there is no difference on the piano. but acoustically there is a difference, over which, however, i would waste no time, since the evenly-tempered scale has been generally adopted, and every composition from bach's time to the present day has been thought and written in it. [sidenote: _the "colour" of various keys_] is it not a mistaken idea that any one particular key is more or less rich or melodious than another? the effect of a tonality upon our hearing lies not in its signature (as even beethoven seemed to believe) but in the vibration proportions. it is, therefore, irrelevant whether we play a piece upon a high-pitched piano in c, or upon a low-pitched piano in d flat. there are certain keys preferable to others for certain colours, but i fear that the preference is based not upon acoustic qualities but rather upon a fitness for the hand or voice. we apply the word "colour" as much to tone as the painters apply "tone" to colour, but i hardly think that anybody would speak of c major as representing black, or f major green. the student's age [sidenote: _starting a child's musical training_] at what age should a child begin the study of instrumental music? if my daughter (six years old) is to study the violin should she first spend a few years with the piano, or _vice versa_? the usual age for a child to begin the study of music is between six and seven years. a pianist hardly needs to learn another instrument to become a well-rounded musician, but violinists, as well as the players of all other instruments, and also vocalists, will be much hampered in their general musical development if they fail to acquire what may be called a speaking acquaintance with the piano. [sidenote: _age of the student is immaterial_] i am not longer in my first youth, cannot take more than one hour's lesson a week, and cannot practise more than three hours a day. would you still advise me to begin the study of the piano? provided there is gift and intelligence, the will, and the opportunity to study, age need not stand in your way. if your three hours of study are properly used, and your hour's lesson a week is with a good teacher, you should not become discouraged. [sidenote: _twenty-five not too late to begin_] do you think that mastery of the piano is unlikely or impossible when the beginner is twenty-five years of age? it is neither unlikely nor impossible. your age will to some degree handicap you, because from purely physical causes the elasticity of the fingers and wrists could be developed much more quickly if you were ten years younger. if, however, you are endowed with strong musical gifts in the abstract you will achieve results superior to those attained by younger people with less talent. in overcoming the difficulties due to a late beginning you will find great inward satisfaction, and your attainments are bound to be a source of joy to you. teachers, lessons and methods [sidenote: _the importance of the right teacher_] i have a son who is very desirous of learning to play the piano. i have been advised that an ordinarily good teacher is good enough to begin with. others tell me a beginner should get the best teacher possible. which would you advise? i live in a small town. the seriousness of your question is aggravated by the statement that you live in a small town, and that there is possibly no teacher of ability to be found in your town. and yet it is only such a one that i can recommend for your son. for nothing is more dangerous for the development of a talent than a bad foundation. many people have tried all their lives to rid themselves of the bad habits acquired from an ignorant teacher in the rudimentary stages of their studies, and have failed. i should advise you to try your best to send your boy to some near-by city where there is an excellent teacher. [sidenote: _nothing but the best will do_] wishing to begin the study of the piano now, in my twenty-fourth year, just for the sake of my great love for music, and knowing not even the notes, is it necessary to go to an expensive teacher at once or would a cheaper teacher do for the beginning? if music is to be merely a pastime, and you content yourself with a minimum of knowledge, the cheaper teacher will do; but if you aspire to become musical in a better sense, why, by all means, apply to a teacher of the better class. the maxim: "for the beginning this or that is good enough," is one of the most harmful fallacies. what would you think of an architect who says: "for the foundation loam is good enough; we put a sandstone house over it, any way." remember also, that the road a cheaper teacher has led you to take must usually be retraced when your aspirations rise toward the better in music. [sidenote: _music schools and private teachers_] shall i take my lessons in a music school or from a private teacher? music schools are very good for acquiring a general musical education. for the higher study of an executive specialty (piano, violin, the voice, etc.) i should naturally prefer private instruction from a specialist, because he can give more attention to each individual pupil than is possible under the wholesale system followed, not by all, but by the majority of music schools. what i should advise would be a combination: general matters--harmony, counterpoint, forms, history, and æsthetics--in a music school; and private lessons for your specialty from a teacher who has an established name as an executive artist. the best music schools have such a man at their head, and in these you find the best combination. [sidenote: _individual teacher, or conservatory?_] after taking lessons for five years and a half from a good teacher, would you advise a continuance with the individual teacher or attendance at a college of music or conservatory? for a general musical education i always recommend a good music school or conservatory. for the study of the piano i think it best to take private lessons from an artist who is experienced both as an executant and as a teacher. some music schools have such men on their staff, if not, indeed, at their head. [sidenote: _where outside criticism is desirable_] having had twenty months' lessons and having now mastered etudes by berens, opus 61, by heller, opus 47, and smith's octave studies, do you think i am justified in continuing my lessons? assuming that you have really "mastered" the works you mention i can only encourage you to continue your lessons; i would, however, advise you to obtain an experienced pianist's criticism in order to assure yourself that your idea of "mastering" is right. [sidenote: _the sex of the piano teacher_] is there any preference as to sex in the question of choosing a piano teacher; in other words, is a woman teacher preferable for any reason for a girl and a man teacher for a man? your question does not admit of generalization from a purely musical point of view. it must be--on this premise--decided by the quality, not by the sex, of the teacher. a good feminine teacher is better than a bad masculine one, and _vice versa_. the question of sex does not enter into the matter. of course, the greater number of eminent teachers are found on the masculine side. [sidenote: _too much "method"_] my recently engaged teacher says that the word "method" jars on her nerves. kindly advise me whether a method is not the best thing for a novice, and, if so, which one? your teacher, while possibly a little over-sensitive, is not wrong. america is the most method-ridden country in the world. most of the methods in vogue contain some good points--about a grain of truth to a ton of mere ballast. your teacher's utterance makes me think that you were lucky in finding her, and that you have excellent reason to trust in her guidance. [sidenote: _what the leschetizky method is_] how does the leschetizky method rank with other methods, and in what respect does it differ from them? there are but two methods in all the arts: a good one and a bad one. since you do not specify with what "other" methods you wish to compare that of leschetizky i cannot answer you with definiteness. there are, alas, so many "methods"! but the majority of them are based upon a deliberate disregard for that reverence which is due to great compositions and to the example of their rendition given by great interpreters. i have not studied with leschetizky, but i think that he believes in a very low position of the hand and a sort of super-energetic tension of the tendons of the arms and hands. [sidenote: _give your teacher a fair trial_] has a young pupil, after studying the piano irregularly for two months, tested fairly a teacher's ability? of course not! altogether i do not like the idea of a pupil's testing his teacher's ability, rather the reverse. he may possibly find his teacher unsympathetic, but even this matter he is apt to judge prematurely. in most cases of irregularly attended or poorly prepared lessons the lack of sympathy means nothing more than that the pupil is a trifler and the teacher's honesty of purpose is not to his taste. [sidenote: _either trust your teacher or get a new one_] i have a "piano method," left over from lessons with my first teacher; it was very expensive, and i learned only a few pages of it. we moved to a different city and my new teacher objects to using the book, or, as she says, any such book. i do not know what to do about it, and would thank you for your advice. when you apply to a teacher for instruction you must, first of all, decide in your own mind whether you have or have not absolute confidence in his ability. if you trust him you must do as you are advised to do; if not, you must apply to another teacher. a book, costing much or little, plays no part in the matter. by what you say of the new teacher, however, i am disposed to think that he is better than the first one. [sidenote: _the proper course for a little girl_] commencing piano lessons with my seven-year-old daughter, should i devote my efforts to the development of the fingers and hands, or retard such development so as to keep pace with the expansion of the mind? your question is interesting. but if your mind is clear on that point--and it seems to be--that a one-sided development (in this case technical) is dangerous to the "musical" talent of your little daughter, why, then, your little girl is, indeed, "out of danger." your very question is a credit to your insight. [sidenote: _frequent lessons and shorter_] is it better for a young student to take one hour lesson or two half-hour lessons a week? since young students are liable to form bad habits it is essential that they should come under the teacher's eye as frequently as possible. hence, it is preferable to divide the hour into two equidistant parts. [sidenote: _number of lessons depends on progress_] which plan is better for a child of eleven or twelve years: to take a one-hour lesson or two half-hour lessons a week? the child's age is not the determining factor in this matter; it is his musical status. [sidenote: _one lesson a week_] is one lesson a week inadequate for a piano student? it will be sufficient in the more advanced stages of piano study. in the earlier stages, however, where the danger of forming bad habits is greatest, it is best to bring the pupil under his teacher's eye twice a week at the very least. [sidenote: _better not give the child "modified classics"_] what little classics are best for a child after six months' lessons? there are collections without number of facilitated or simplified arrangements of classic pieces, but i do not altogether approve of them. let the classics wait until the child is technically--and, above all, mentally--ripe to approach such works as they are written. [sidenote: _can music be studied in america?_] is it necessary for me to go to europe to continue my music studies? if you have very much money to spare, why not? you will see much, also hear much--and some of it not quite so sublime as you anticipated--and, last but not least, you will have "studied abroad." while this slogan still exercises a certain charm upon some people in america, their number is growing less year by year, because the public has begun to understand that the united states affords just as good instruction in music as europe does. it has also been found out that to "study abroad" is by no means a guarantee of a triumphant return. many a young student who went abroad as a lamb returned as a mutton-head. and why should there not be excellent teachers in america by this time? even if you should insist upon a european teacher you can find many of the best in america. is it not simpler that one teacher from europe go to america to teach a hundred students than that a hundred students should make the trip for the sake of one teacher? i should advise you to stay where you are or go to philadelphia, new york, or boston, where you can find excellent teachers, native, resident americans and foreigners. to quote a case in point, let me say that in berlin i found godowsky's pupils to be almost exclusively americans. they came from various sections of america to study with him and with no one else. but during the eighteen years he spent in chicago they did not seem to want him. perhaps he was too near by! why this self-deception? without mentioning any names i assure you that there are many teachers in america now who, if they should go to europe, would draw a host of students after them, and some of these excellent men i know personally. it is high time to put an end to the superstitious belief in "studying abroad." miscellaneous questions [sidenote: _organizing a musical club_] please give me the name of a good book on musical history and advise me how to organize and conduct a musical club among my pupils. also give me a name, please. you will find the "history of music," by baltzell, a serviceable book. as a name for your club i suggest that of the patron saint of music--saint cecilia--perhaps, or that of a great composer. ask the secretaries of a number of musical clubs for their constitutions and by-laws and then adapt these to your locality and circumstances. make your pupils feel that it is their club and act, yourself, as secretary, if possible. [sidenote: _how to get music published_] please explain how to go about publishing a piece of music, and also give the name of some good publishing houses. it is very easy to publish a piece of music if the publisher sees any merit in it. send your piece to any publishing house whose name you find on the title pages of your sheet music. the readers or advisers of the house will report to their chief as to the merit of your piece, and he will then decide and negotiate with you, if his decision is favourable. if he should not care for it he will return your manuscript and you may try some other house. i advise you, however, to obtain the opinion of a good musician before you send your piece to a publisher. [sidenote: _"playing in time" and "playing in rhythm"_] what is the difference between playing "in time" and playing "in rhythm"? playing in rhythm refers to the inner life of a composition--to its musical pulsation. playing in time means the prompt arrival upon those points of repose which are conditioned by the rhythm. [sidenote: _the student who cannot play fast music_] i find great difficulty in playing anything that goes quick, though in a more moderate tempo i can play my pieces faultlessly. every teacher i had promised to develop my speed, but they all failed. can you give me a hint how to overcome my difficulty? quickness of action, of motion, even of resolution, cannot be acquired by training alone; it must partly be inborn. i assume that your piano-playing is one phase of a general slowness. there is but one remedy for that. you have relied upon your teachers to develop your speed--you should have relied upon your own will-power. try to will it and to will it often; you will see the ability keep step with the exertions of your will. [sidenote: _"wonder-children" as pianists_] my child of five years of age shows signs of great talent for music. he has a keen, true ear, and plays rather well for his age. does this justify me in hoping that something out of the ordinary will become of him? they say that so-called "wonder-children" never amount to anything in later life. that "wonder-children" never amount to anything in later life is not borne out by history. if some are disappointments it is either because they astonished by mere executive precocity, instead of charming by their talent, or because they were ruined by unscrupulous parents or managers who confounded the promise of a future with its realization. but, aside from these few, all great musicians were "wonder-children," whether they became composers, pianists, violinists, 'cellists, or what not. the biographies of our great masters of the past centuries as well as those of more recent times (mendelssohn, wagner, chopin, schumann, liszt, rubinstein, and all the others), will bear me out in this statement. if your child shows more than mere precocity--if, for instance, he does not merely play in his fifth year what others play in their tenth, but shows qualities of musical superiority--then you may with a fair degree of certainty feel hopeful of a fine musical future for him. [sidenote: _the value of going to concerts_] shall i attend orchestra concerts or shall i give preference to soloists? by all means attend orchestra and chamber-music concerts! for these will acquaint you with those works which are, after all, of the greatest importance to the student. besides, you will usually hear more correct interpretations than from soloists. the latter, with some luminous exceptions, overestimate their own authority and take such unseemly liberties that in many cases you hear more smith, jones, or levy than beethoven, schumann, or chopin. individuality in a soloist is certainly a great quality, but only if it is tempered by a proper deference to the composer of the work in hand. if you cannot hear a soloist who is capable of sinking his individuality in the thought, mood, and style of the composer he is interpreting--and this is given to only the very greatest--you do far better to prefer to the "individual" renditions of a soloist the "collective" renditions of the orchestra or string quartette. the synthetic nature of the orchestra forestalls the extravagances of so-called individuality and insures, generally speaking, a truthful interpretation. the very worst conductor imaginable cannot do as much harm to a composition as can a mediocre soloist, for an orchestra is a large body and, therefore, not so easily moved and shifted from the path of musical rectitude as is a single voice or an instrument. a really great soloist is, of course, the finest flower of the garden of applied music, for his touch with the instrument is immediate and he needs no middleman to express the finest shades of his conceptions; while the conductor--and even the best--has to impart his conception (through the baton, facial expression, and gesture) to other people before it can become audible, and on this circuitous route much of the original fervour and ardour may be lost. but there are more good orchestras than great soloists, and hence you are safe in attending orchestra and chamber-music concerts. [sidenote: _books that aid the student working alone_] compelled to study without a teacher for two years before i can go to a conservatory, what method should i study for my technique and what pieces? you fail to say whether you are a beginner or already somewhat advanced. still, i think it safe to recommend mason's "touch and technique," sternberg's etudes, opus 66; and select your pieces from the graded catalogues which any publisher will be glad to send you. [sidenote: _music as a profession or as an avocation_] would you advise a young man with a good foundation to choose music--that is, concertizing--as a career, or should he keep his music as an accomplishment and avocation? your distinguishing between music and concertizing gives direction to my reply; that the question was not answered by your own heart before you asked it prompts me to advise music for you as an avocation. the artist's career nowadays is not so simple as it appears to be. of a thousand capable musicians there is, perhaps, one who attains to a general reputation and fortune. the rest of them, after spending money, time, and toil, give up in despair, and with an embittered disposition take up some other occupation. if you do not depend upon public music-making for a living; if your natural endowments are not of a very unusually high order, and if your entire personality does not imply the exercise of authority over assemblages of people--spiritual authority, i mean--it were better to enjoy your music in the circle of your friends. it is less risky and will, in all probability, give you much greater satisfaction. [sidenote: _how much you can get from music_] when i hear a concert pianist i want to get more from his playing than æsthetic ear enjoyment. can you give me a little outline of points for which to look that may help me in my piano study? there is no pleasure or enjoyment from which we can derive more than we bring with us in the way of receptiveness. as you deepen your study of music and gain insight into its forms, contrapuntal work and harmonic beauties you will derive more and more pleasure from listening to a good pianist the deeper your studies go. what their playing reflects of emotional life you will perceive in the exact measure of your own grasp upon life. art is a medium connecting, like a telegraph, two stations: the sender of a message and the receiver. both must be pitched equally high to make the communication perfect. [sidenote: "_it is so much easier to read flats than sharps!_"] you would confer a favour upon a teacher by solving a problem for her that has puzzled her all her life; why do all pupils prefer flats to sharps? i am not at all sure that i do not, in some degree, share this preference. is it a fault of training, or has it any other cause? your question is both original and well justified by frequent observation, for it is quite true that people prefer to read flats to sharps. but note it well that the aversion to sharps refers only to the reading, not to the playing. if any one should find it harder to _play_ in sharps, say, after knowing the notes well, it would be a purely subjective deception, due to a mental association of the note-picture with the respective sounds. my personal belief is that the aversion to the _reading_ of sharps is caused by the comparative complexity of the sign itself, and this leads me to think that the whole matter belongs rather to ophthalmology than to either acoustics or music. [sidenote: _rubinstein or liszt--which the greater?_] as between liszt and rubinstein, whom do you consider the greater? rubinstein i knew very well (i was his pupil), and have heard him play a great many times. liszt, who died when i was sixteen years old and had not appeared in public for some twenty years previously, i never met and never heard. still, from the descriptions which many of my friends gave me of him, and from the study of his works, i have been able to form a fair idea of his playing and his personality. as a virtuoso i think liszt stood above rubinstein, for his playing must have possessed amazing, dazzling qualities. rubinstein excelled by his sincerity, by his demoniacal, heaven-storming power of great impassionedness, qualities which with liszt had passed through the sieve of a superior education and--if you understand how i mean that term--gentlemanly elegance. he was, in the highest meaning of the word, a man of the world; rubinstein, a world-stormer, with a sovereign disregard for conventionality and for mrs. grundy. the principal difference lay in the characters of the two. as musicians, with regard to their natural endowments and ability, they were probably of the same gigantic calibre, such as we would seek in vain at the present time. [sidenote: _as to one composer--excluding all others_] if i am deeply interested in beethoven's music can i not find in him all that there is in music, in both an æsthetic and a technical sense? is any one's music more profound? you imagine yourself in an impenetrable stronghold whence, safe from all attacks, you may look upon all composers (except beethoven) with a patronizing, condescending smile. but you are gravely in error. life is too rich in experience, too many-sided in its manifestations, to permit any one master, however great, to exhaust its interpretation through his art. if you base your preference for beethoven upon your sympathies, and if, for this reason, his music satisfies you better than that of any other composer, you are to be complimented upon your good taste. but that gives you no right to contest, for instance, the profoundness of bach, the æsthetic charm of chopin, the wonders of mozart's art, nor the many and various merits of your contemporary composers. the least that one can be charged with who finds the whole of life expressed in any one composer is one-sidedness, not to speak of the fact that the understanding cannot be very deep for one master if it is closed to all others. one of the chief requirements for true connoisseurship is catholicity of taste. [sidenote: _a sensible scheme of playing for pleasure_] i am fifty-six years old, live in the mountains sixty-five miles from any railroad, alone with my husband, and i have not taken lessons in thirty-five years. do you think "pischna" would help me much to regain my former ability to play? if not, what would you advise me to do? refrain from all especially technical work. since your love of music is strong enough to cause you to resume your playing you should take as much pleasure in it as possible and work technically only in the pieces you play--that is, in those places which offer you difficulties. decide upon a comfortable fingering first, and practise the difficult places separately and slowly until you feel that you can venture to play them in their appropriate speed. [sidenote: _first learn to play simple things well_] what pieces would you advise me to memorize after rachmaninoff's prelude in c-sharp minor and chopin's a-flat ballade? these pieces do not appeal to the majority of people, but i enjoy them. if such a work as chopin's ballade in a-flat does not "appeal to the majority"--as you say--the fault cannot lie in the composition, but must be sought in the interpretation. why not try a few pieces of lesser complexity and play them so perfectly that they do appeal to the majority. try chopin's nocturne, opus 27, no. 2; schumann's romanza, opus. 28, no. 2; or his "traumerei," or some of the more pretentious "songs without words" by mendelssohn. [sidenote: _about starting on a concert career_] i am twenty-four, have had four years' rigorous work in a conservatory and a partial college training. my technique is adequate for brahms's rhapsody in g minor and mcdowell's sonatas. i have good health and am determined not to grow self-satisfied. is there a place on the concert stage--even if only as an accompanist--for a woman thus equipped? any public career must begin by earning the good opinion of others. one's own opinion, however just, is never a criterion. my advice is that you speak to some of the prominent concert agents, whose names and addresses you find in every well-accredited music paper. play for them. they are usually not connoisseurs by actual knowledge, but they have developed a fine instinct for that which is of use to them, and you are, of course, aware that we must be of use to others before we can be of use to ourselves. if the right "stuff" is in you you will make your way. people of ability always do. that there is room for women on the concert stage is proved by the great array of meritorious women pianists. especially for accompanying women are in demand--that is, for _good_ accompanying. but i would not start out with the idea of accompanying. it seems like going to a commercial school to study be to an "assistant" bookkeeper. become a fine, all-round musician, a fine pianist, and see what the tide of affairs will bring you. the proper level for your ability is bound to disclose itself to you. [sidenote: _accompanist usually precedes soloist at entering_] should an accompanist precede or follow the soloist on the stage in a concert or recital, and should sex be considered in the matter? if the soloist be a man the accompanist should precede him on the stage in order to arrange his music, the height of his seat or whatever may be necessary, during which time the soloist salutes the audience. for these reasons it should be the same when the soloist is a woman, but as women are of the feminine persuasion it will, perhaps, look better if the accompanist yields precedence to her. alphabetical index of questions page about starting on a concert career 162 accenting a mordent in a sonata 70 accompanist usually precedes soloist at entering 164 action of a beginner's piano, the 87 action of the little finger, the 17 advantage of legato over staccato, the 22 affected movements at the piano 126 "afraid to play before people" 121 age of the student is immaterial 139 always keep in touch with bach 81 art of accompanying a soloist, the 118 art of playing with feeling, the 124 as to one composer--excluding all others 160 as to playing rubato 100 as to the bach fugues 88 bach's music necessary to good technique 80 bach's preludes and fugues 82 beethoven sonata with a pastoral character, the 84 beginner in bach music, the 80 best physical exercise for the pianist, the 181 best way to improve sight-reading, the 117 best way to work up a quick tempo, the 54 better not give the child "modified classics" 148 biting the finger-nails spoils the touch 19 books that aid the student working alone 155 broad-tipped fingers not a disadvantage 20 c-scale fingering for all scales, the 28 can music be studied in america? 148 cantabile passages 7 charm of chopin's touch, the 86 chopin's barcarolle 88 chopin's works for a popular concert 88 "colour" of various keys, the 187 company that one keeps in music, the 188 composition must fit the player, the 130 conditions which dictate speed in playing, the 53 counting out loud 50 difference between conception and rubato, the 102 difference between "finger staccato" and other kinds, the 22 difference between major and minor scales, the 109 difference in playing trills, the 74 different conceptions may be individually correct 102 difficulty of playing repetition notes, the 34 disputed chopin reading, a 78 do not allow the wrist to get stiff 10 do not injure the hand by stretching it 13 do not over-use the soft pedal 44 do not raise the piano-stool too high 4 do not raise wrist in marking a rest 99 do not stiffen the hands in playing scales 9 do not use a piano extreme in "action" 36 double sharp misprinted for double flat 65 e sharp and b sharp and the double flat 64 easiest way to memorize, the 113 effect of double flats, the 65 effect of playing the same piece often, the 122 either trust your teacher or get a new one 146 etudes for advanced players to work at 94 exercises for the beginner to practise 93 fatiguing the hand by stretching 12 few sonatas of beethoven, well played, are enough, a 85 fingering the chromatic scale 28 fingers needed to play a mordent, the 28 firm and crisp legato touch, the 24 first learn to play simple things well 162 four ways to study a piano piece 52 fourth and fifth fingers, the 16 frequent lessons and shorter 147 general rule about the pedal, a 39 genuine piano hand, the 130 give your teacher a fair trial 145 good finger exercises 93 good intermediate books of etudes 94 greatest composers as pianists, the 91 hearing a piece before studying it 104 height of the piano seat, the 5 horseback riding stiffens the fingers 132 how a tie and a slur differ 63 how are syncopated notes to be played? 71 how best to play the octaves 29 how grace notes are played 61 how long an accidental affects a note 64 how much you can get from music 157 how organ playing affects the pianist 26 how tight to keep the piano's action 37 how to get music published 150 how to hold the thumb 16 how to improve the technique 4 how to play passages marked "rubato" 100 how to use the pedal 39 how waltz, menuet, mazurka and polonaise differ 111 importance of studying with the right teacher, the 140 incorrect position of the fingers, an 8 individual teacher or conservatory? 142 in order to memorize easily 115 in playing a sonata 75 "international" piano pitch, the 136 international pitch, the 136 is the piano the hardest to master? 127 "it is so much easier to read flats than sharps!" 157 kind of piano upon which to practise, the 35 kullak's "method of octaves" still good 34 learning the art of accompanying 118 learning to accompany at sight 117 learning to modulate 107 let your ear guide your pedalling 41 loose wrist, the 9 masters cannot be studied in order 90 meaning and use of "motif," the 68 meaning of solfeggio, the 74 meaning of "toccata," the 111 memorizing quickly and forgetting as readily 115 metronome markings, the 57 metronome markings may better be ignored 59 modern piano music 92 mood and tempo in the a flat impromptu 87 more technique the more practice, the 3 morning is the best time to practise 46 morning practice on the piano, the 45 music as a profession or as an avocation 156 music schools and private teachers 141 no necessity to watch the fingers 19 not playing the two hands at once 25 nothing but the best will do 141 number of lessons depends on progress, the 147 old problem of duple time against triple, the 98 omitting one note in a chord 89 once more the "soft" pedal 44 one lesson a week 147 only kind of practice worth while, the 47 order of studying beethoven's sonatas 83 organ playing and the piano touch 26 organizing a musical club 150 perfect rubato the result of momentary impulse 101 personal element and the metronome, the 58 pianist who fails to express herself, the 123 piano study for conductor and composer 128 play chords with a loose arm 11 playing duple time against triple 96 playing from memory is indispensable 112 "playing in time" and "playing in rhythm" 151 playing of double thirds, the 35 playing of slurred notes, the 62 playing on a dumb piano 38 playing the "melody in f" 79 playing the "spring song" too fast 77 playing with cold hands 49 point in playing the "moonlight sonata," a 76 position of auxiliary note in a trill 72 position of the turn over a note, the 71 position of the wrist, the 10 practising eight hours instead of four 48 practising the two parts separately 52 premature fatigue in the arms 33 problem of transposing at sight, the 119 proper course for a little girl, the 146 rapid octaves 30 real meaning of speed terms, the 60 relation of harmony to piano playing, the 105 rests used under or over notes 62 results count, not the methods, the 6 rolled chord marked "secco," a 70 rubinstein or liszt--which is the greater? 158 rule for selecting the speed, a 60 safe way of stretching the small hand, a 13 sensible scheme of playing for pleasure, a 161 sex of the piano teacher, the 143 should piano students try to compose? 108 slurs and accents not related 63 small notes under large ones 70 some pieces for a girl of fourteen 75 speed and smoothness in trilling 73 staffs are independent of each other, the 66 starting a child's musical training 138 stiff wrists in playing octaves 33 student who cannot play fast music, the 151 student who wants to compose, the 108 student with a fondness for the pedal, the 42 study of mendelssohn, the 85 study of operatic transcriptions, the 91 study of the scales, the 51 study of the scales is very important, the 50 studying counterpoint by one's self 107 take a month's rest every year 56 taking liberties with the tempo 89 "tenuto" dash and its effect, the 69 text-books on harmony 106 there are dangers in using a metronome 59 there is only one minor scale 109 tied staccato notes 69 tilt of the hand in playing scales, the 6 time to devote to technical exercises 47 to gain facility in sight-reading 117 to keep errors from creeping in 116 to play a glissando passage 29 to prevent sore finger-tips after playing 20 to produce a softer tone 43 to produce good legato 23 to strengthen the weak finger, use it 18 to work up a fast tempo 53 too much "method" 144 trill begins on the melodic note, a 72 twenty-five not too late to begin 139 two hands playing difficult rhythms, the 97 universal system of marking fingering, the 27 use of the pedal for colouring, the 39 use pedal with caution in playing bach 41 using the two pedals at once 48 value of clementi's "gradus" to-day, the 95 value and correct practice of phrasing, the 98 value of going to concerts, the 153 value of heller's studies, the 93 watch your breathing 55 weak fingers of the left hand, the 18 well-tempered piano scale, the 137 what a dot may mean 77 what a double dot means 62 what does "technique" mean? 3 what is the best of chopin? 86 what is the difference between the major and minor scales? 110 "what is the matter with my scales?" 14 what the leschetizky method is 144 what the object of study should be 135 what to do with an unemployed hand 21 when an accidental is in parentheses 66 when playing octaves 31 when reading over a new piece 51 when the fingers seem weak 18 when to keep away from the piano 132 when to play for people 120 when tremolo proves unduly fatiguing 11 when two fingers have the same note 79 where outside criticism is desirable 143 where the accent should be placed 78 which fingers demand most attention? 16 which should come first--conception or technique? 103 why rag-time is injurious 134 why so many different keys? 105 why the pianist should study harmony 104 why the piano is so popular 128 why two names for the "same" key? 67 "wonder children" as pianists 152 wrist staccato at a high tempo 21 wrist stroke in long octave passages 32 index a flat, key of, 67. impromptu in, 78, 87. chopin's ballade in, 162. a sharp, key of, 67. difference between, and b flat, 137. accent, where the, should be placed, 78. accenting a mordent, 70. accents, slurs and, not related, 68. accidental, how long an, affects a note, 64. when an, is in parentheses, 66. accompaniment, 118. accompaniments, in left-hand waltz, 17. accompanist, 118, 119, 164. accompanying, at sight, 117. a soloist, 118. the art of, 118. action, of the wrist, 9. of the arm, 11. of the little finger, 17. a piano extreme in, 36. how tight to keep the piano's, 37. of a beginner's piano, 37. a too heavy, 38. too light an, 38. adagio, 60. advantage, of legato over staccato, 22. of universal fingering, 27. affected movements at the piano, 126. age, and physical development of the beginner, 138, 139. age of the student, immaterial, 139. aid, books that, the student working alone, 155. allegretto grazioso, 77. allegro, 60. america, can music be studied in, 148. "american" fingering, 27. andante, 60. appassionata, the last movement of the, 76. appoggiatura, 72. arm, action of the, 11. play chords with a loose, 11. arms, premature fatigue in the, 33. arpeggio, 3, 9. art, of accompanying, the, 118. the canons of, 125. attention, which fingers demand most, 16. auber, 136. auxiliary, position of, note in a trill, 72. average, speed, 59. tempo, 60. avocation, music as a profession or as an, 156. b flat minor, chopin's prelude in, 95. b sharp, 64, 65. bach, use pedal with caution in playing, 41. the beginner in, music, 80. in touch with, 81. bach, philipp emanuel, 88. bach's, music, 80, 81. preludes, 67, 82. fugues, 67, 82, 83. bad music, 183. baermann, carl, 94. ballade, chopin's, in a flat, 102. baltzell, "history of music," by, 150. barcarolle, chopin's, 88. beethoven, the sonatas of, 83, 85. beethoven's sonatina, opus 49, 59. fifth symphony, 69. sonata pathétique, 70. "moonlight sonata," 76. sonatas, 83. order of studying, sonatas, 83. sonata, opus 28, 84. style, 85. first and last sonatas, 90. beginner's, the action of a, piano, 37. bendel's "zephyr," 53. berceuse, chopin's, opus 57, 86. berens, 95, 143. berlin, 118. berlioz, 91, 136. best, how to play the octaves, 29. morning is the, time to practise, 46. way to work up a quick tempo, 54. what is the, of chopin, 86. the, book of instruction for a beginner, 93. the, way to improve sight-reading, 117. the, piano hand, 130. the, physical exercise for the pianist, 131. nothing but the, will do, 141. biting the finger-nails, 19. blumenstuck, schumann's, 79. "blurring," 23. body, general position of the, 4. books, of etudes, 93, 94. that aid the student working alone, 155. brahms, 162. breathing, 55. broad-tipped fingers, 20. bulow, 17. büssler, 106. c flat, 67. c sharp, key of, 67. c sharp major, bach's fugue in, 83. c sharp minor movement, the, 58. cantabile passages, 7. cantata, 112. chaminade, toccata by, 111. chaminade's "air de ballet," no. 1, 70. chopin, polonaise, opus 53, 74. a disputed, reading, 78. life of, 86. the best of, 86. etude by, 94. etudes in c minor, 95. chopin's works, 23, 79. prelude, no. 15, 58. valse, opus 42, 61. polonaise, opus 58, 74. polonaise, opus 26, no. 1, 77. nocturne in f sharp, 78. impromptu in a flat, opus 29, 78, 87. charm of, touch, 86. chants polonais, 88. fantasy impromptu, 88, 97. barcarolle, 88. nocturne, opus 27, no. 2, 88, 162. chopin's works for a popular concert, 88. ballade in a flat, 162. chord, rolled, marked "secco," 70. in the waltz in e minor, 89. chords, play, with a loose arm, 11. chromatic, the, scale 28. thirds, 35. accidental, signs, 66, 67. classics, "modified," 148. clementi, 81. clementi's "gradus ad parnassum," 95. sonatina, opus 37, 96. "colour," of various keys, 137. colouring, 39, 44, 137. composer, piano-study for, 128. as to one, 160. composers, the greatest, as pianists, 91. composition, 108, 130. conception, difference between, and rubato, 102. conceptions, different, 102. concert, chopin's works for a popular, 88. etudes, 94. work, 156. career, 162. concerto, the grieg, 35. concerts, the value of going to, 153. conservatory, individual teacher or, 142. conductor, piano-study for, 128. correct practice of phrasing, 98. counterpoint, studying, 107, 142. cramer etudes, the, 17, 45. c-scale fingering, 28. counterpoint, studying, by one's self, 107. counting, 50. course, proper, for a little girl, 146. criticism, where outside, is desirable, 143. curved fingers, 6, 7. czerny, 45, 81. d flat, key of, 67. arrangement of bach's fugues, 83. damper pedal, the, 43. dance, music, 134. liszt's, of the gnomes, 58. dangers in using a metronome, 59. dash, "tenuto," and its effect, 69. diatonic, thirds, 35. sequel, 73. different, conceptions, 102. rhythms, 97. keys, 105. difference, between "finger staccato" and other kinds, 22. in playing trills, 74. between conception and rubato, 102. between major and minor scales, 109. difficulty of playing repetition notes, 34. doppio movement, in chopin's nocturne in f sharp, 78. dot, double, 62. what a, may mean, 77. double notes, 35. thirds, 35. dot, 62. flat, 64, 65. flats, 65. sharp, 65. dumb piano, playing on a 38. duple time, 96, 98. e minor, waltz in, 89. e sharp, 64. ear, let your, guide your pedalling, 41. easiest way to memorize, 113. edition, peters's, of chopin, 79. edition, steingräber, of beethoven, 84. education, general musical, 141. element, personal, and the metronome, 58. "english" fingering, 27. erlking, liszt arrangement of the, 32. errors, to keep, from creeping in, 116. ethical, 135. etudes, cramer, 17, 45. octave, 30. for advanced players, 94. good intermediate books of, 94. by ruthardt, 94. twelve, for technique and expression, 94. concert, 94. by baermann, 94. of chopin, 95. by kessler, 95. by berens, 95, 143. by heller, 143. sternberg's, 155. example, force of, 104. exercise, best physical, 131. exercises, stretching, 12, 13. technical, 47. for the beginner, 93. good finger, 93. f, melody in, 79. f minor, chopin's ballades in, 86. f sharp, key of, 67. chopin's nocturne in, 78. fantastic fairy tales, 92. fantasy impromptu, chopin's, 88, 97. fatigue, premature, in the arms, 33. faulty touch, 8, 43. fifth symphony, beethoven's, 69. finger, the middle, 16. technique, 16. the little, 17. the weak, 18. touch, 19. staccato, 22. exercises, 93. fingering, english, 27. universal, 27. american, 27. the chromatic scale, 28. c-scale, 28. finger-nails, biting the, 19. fingers, position of, 6. the other, 16. fourth and fifth, 16. weak, 18. broad-tipped, 20. needed to play a mordent, 28. finger-stroke, high, 7, 23, 24. finger-tips, sore, 20. "wiping" the keys with the, 35. firm legato touch, 24. flat, double, 65. flats, double, 65. fugue, definition of a, 82. fugues, bach's, 82. g flat, key of, 67. g minor, chopin's ballade in, 86. brahms's rhapsody in, 162. gavotte in a, the, 44. general, technique, 3. rule about the pedal, 39. musical education, 141. glissando, the, 29. to play a, passage, 29. gluck-brahms, 44. godowsky, transcriptions by, 23. godowsky's pupils, 149. going to concerts, value of, 158. grace notes, 61. "gradus ad parnassum," clementi's, 95. grieg concerto, the, 35. halévy, 136. hand, position of, 6. stretching the, 12. small, 13. unemployed, the, 21. genuine piano, 130. hands, two at once, 25. playing with cold, 49. harmonic, clarity, 41. turns, 105. harmony, study of, 104. relation of, to piano-playing, 105. textbooks on, 106. haydn, 75. heller, etudes by, 143. heller's studies, value of, 93. opus 154, 94. "history of music," 150. importance of the right teacher, 140. impromptu, chopin's, in a flat, 78. chopin's fantasy, opus 66, 88, 97. instrument, the, 35. intermediate, good, books of etudes, 94. international piano pitch, 136. international pitch, 136. key, two names for the same, 67. keys, why so many different, 105. "colour" of various, 187. kuhlau sonatinas, 75. kullak's, octave school, 31. "method of octaves," 34. learning, to modulate, 107. to accompany at sight, 117. the art of accompanying, 118. legato, 22, 23. advantage of, 22. touch, 24. meaning of, 24. leschetizky method, the, 144. lessons, teachers, and methods, 140. number of, depends on progress, 147. frequent, and shorter, 147. liadow, "music box" by, 92. "life of chopin," the, 86. "limping," 25. liszt, 130, 158. liszt's, dance of the gnomes, 58. transcription of chants polonais, 88. little finger, action of the, 17. loud counting, 50. macdowell, sonatas, 162. major, difference between, and minor scales, 109, 110. marking a rest, in, 99. marks and nomenclature, 57. mason's "touch and technique", 155. masters cannot be studied in order, 90. mazurka, 111. mazurkas, chopin's, 86. melody in f, the, 79. memorize, easiest way to, 113. in order to, easily, 115. memory, playing from, 112. the, 112. mendelssohn, the study of, 85. mendelssohn's "spring song," 77. menuet, 111. method, too much, 144. leschetizky, 144. methods, teachers, lessons and, 140. metronome, markings, 57, 59. personal element and the, 58. dangers in using a, 59. meyerbeer, 136. minor, difference between major and, scales, 109. only one, scale, 109. miscellaneous questions, 150. "modified classics," 148. modulate, learning to, 107. mood and tempo in the a flat impromptu, 87. "moonlight sonata," the, 76. mordent, fingers needed to play a, 28. accenting a, in a sonata, 70. morning practice on the piano, 45. moscheles, etudes by, 94. motif, meaning and use of, 68. "moto perpetuo," 112. mozart, 46, 75. mozart's art, 160. music, the beginner in bach, 80. modern piano, 92. bad, 133. the company that one keeps in, 133. can, be studied in america, 148. how to get, published, 150. as a profession, 156. how much you can get from, 157. "music box," the, 92. music schools and private teachers, 141. nocturne, chopin's, in f sharp, 78. opus 27, no. 2, 88, 162. nocturnes, chopin's, 86. nomenclature, marks and, 57. note, auxiliary, 72. when two fingers have the same, 79. notes repetition, 34. double, 35. slurred, 62. tied staccato, 69. small, under large ones, 70. syncopated, 71. object of study, 135. octave, chords, 11. kullak's, school, 31. in extended, playing, 32. passages, 32. octaves, 29. rapid, 30. when playing, 31. wrist, 31, 32. arm, 31. stiff wrists in playing, 33. operatic transcriptions, 91. order of studying beethoven's sonatas, 83. other fingers, the, 16. organ, touch, 26. playing, 26. pachulski, 92. pedal, a general rule about the, 39. how to use the, 39. use of the, for colouring, 39. use, with caution in playing bach, 41. the "soft," 43, 44. a constant use of the soft, 45. pedalling, let your ear guide your, 41. pedals, the, 39. using the two, at once, 43. "perpetuum mobile," weber's, 112. peters's edition, 79, 82. phrasing, value and correct practice of, 98. physical exercise, best, for the pianist, 131. pianists, the greatest composers as, 91. "wonder-children" as, 152. _pianissimo_ touch, the, 44. piano, height of the, seat, 5. touch, 26. kind of, upon which to practise, 35. extreme in action, 36. action of a beginner's, 37. playing on a dumb, 38. affected movements at the, 126. about the, per se, 127. genuine, hand, 130. when to keep away from the, 132. "piano playing," 35. "pischna," exercises of, 93, 161. pitch, international, 136. pitch and kindred matters, 136. international piano, 136. play for people, when to, 120. playing for pleasure, 161. polonaise, chopin, opus 53, 74. chopin, opus 26, no. 1, 77. polonaises, chopin's, 86. polyrhythms, 96. popular concert, chopin's works for a, 88. position, of the body, 4. of the hand, 6. of the fingers, 6, 8. of the wrist, 10. of the thumb, 16. of the turn over a note, 71. of auxiliary note in a trill, 72. practice, morning, on the piano, 45. the only kind of, worth while, 47. of phrasing, 98. of constructing, 108. practise, kind of a piano upon which to, 35. exercises for the beginner to, 93. practising, eight hours instead of four, 48. the two parts separately, 52. precision, 25. prelude, the b flat minor, 95. in c sharp minor, 162 preludes, bach's, 82. chopin's, 86. private teachers, 141. profession, music as a, 156. rachmaninoff's prelude in c sharp minor, 162. rag-time, why, is injurious, 134. repetition, technique, 34. notes, 34. rests used under or over notes, 62. rhapsody, brahms's, in g minor, 162. rhythm, accents relate to, 62. playing in, 151. richter, e. f., 106. romanza, schumann's, 162. rossini, 136. rubato, as to playing, 100. passages marked, 100. difference between conception and, 102. rubinstein, 158. rubinstein's "melody in f," 79. russian piano music, 53. ruthardt, "etudes" by, 94. scale, fingering the chromatic, 28. only one minor, 109. the well-tempered piano, 137. scale playing, in, 16. scales, tilt of the hand in playing the, 6. the practising of, 14, 51. the study of the, 50, 51. scherzo, chopin's, opus 31, 88. schubert-liszt's "auf dem wasser zu singern," 53. schumann's "blumenstuck," 79. romanza, opus 28, no. 2, 162. "traumerei," 162. "secco," a rolled chord marked, 70. seeling, hans, 94. sex of the teacher, 143. sight-reading, 117. slur, how a tie and a, differ, 63. slurred notes, the playing of, 62. slurs, 63. smith's octave studies, 143. solfeggio, meaning of, 74. soloist, 118, 164. sonata, accenting a mordent in a, 70. in playing a, 75. moonlight, 76. beethoven, with a pastoral character, 84. meaning of, 112. sonatina, beethoven's, 59. sonatas of beethoven, the, 83, 85. "songs without words," mendelssohn's, 86, 162. speed, gradual increase of, 54. average, 59. meaning of, terms, 60. rule for selecting the, 60. and smoothness in trilling, 73. "spring song," the, 77. staccato, wrist, at a high tempo, 21. finger, 22. arm, 22. staffs, the, 66. starting, about, on a concert career, 162. steingräber edition of beethoven's sonatas, 84. sternberg's etudes, opus 66, 155. stretching, 12, 13. student, age of, immaterial, 139. books that aid the, working alone, 155. students, piano, 108. studies, heller's, 93. study, object of, 135. studying, importance of, with the right teacher, 140. syncopated notes, 71. system, universal, of fingering, 27. teachers, lessons, and methods, 140. technical, exercises, 47. work, 18, 45, 46. studies, 46. results, 48. technique, a generic term, 3. how to improve the, 4. a precise finger, 16. of the fingers, 22. repetition, 34. a "musical," 38. tempo, wrist staccato at a high, 21. to work up a fast, 53, 54. average, 60. in the a flat impromptu, 87. taking liberties with the, 89. rubato, 100, 101. "tenuto" dash, the, 69. textbooks on harmony, 106. thalberg, 91, 92. theory, 104. thirds, double, 35. diatonic, 35. chromatic, 35. thomas, ambroise, 136. thumb, the, 14. how to hold the, 16. tie, a, 63. time, duple, against triple, 96, 98. playing in, 151. toccata, meaning of, 111. touch, faulty, 8, 43. finger, 19, 50. biting the finger-nails spoils the, 19. legato, 24, 63. crisp legato, 24. piano, 26. organ, 26. repetition, 34. charm of chopin's, 86. and technique, 155. training, a child's musical, 138. transcriptions, study of operatic, 91. transposing at sight, 119. tremolo, 11. trill, position of auxiliary note in a, 72. trills, on the melodic note, 72. extended, 72. difference in playing, 74. triple time, 96, 98. "twelve etudes for technique and expression," 94. universal system of marking fingering, 27. valse, chopin's, opus 42, 61. opus 64, no. 2, 88. waltz, a chord in the, in e minor, 89. waltzes, chopin's, 86. weak fingers, 18. weber's "storm," 41. pianos of, time, 41. "perpetuum mobile," 112. "wonder-children" as pianists, 152. wrist, action of the, 9. the loose, 9. position of the, 10. stiffness in the, 10. octaves, 31, 32. stroke in long octave passages, 32. * * * * * transcriber's note: punctuation has been made consistent. other changes: page iv and index--'polyrythms' changed to 'polyrhythms.' page xi--'as a matter _or_ course' changed to 'as a matter _of_ course.' page 12--'i stretch _beween_ my fingers' changed to 'i stretch _between_ my fingers.' page 43--'expresson' changed to 'expression.' page 47--'_ti_ would take considerable time' changed to '_it_ would take considerable time.' page 50--'rhymthic' changed to 'rhythmic.' page 78--'doggio' changed to 'doppio.' page 93--'_or_ which one is abridged' changed to '_of_ which one is abridged.' page 123--'feel _they that_ do not care for my playing' changed to 'feel _that they_ do not care for my playing.' page 140--'be be' changed to 'be.' page 158--'rubenstein' changed to 'rubinstein.' index--'f major, key of, [no page #]' removed. index--'gradus and parnassum' corrected to 'gradus ad parnassum.' index--'hadyn' corrected to 'haydn.' internet archive million book project note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 15604-h.htm or 15604-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/6/0/15604/15604-h/15604-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/6/0/15604/15604-h.zip) piano mastery talks with master pianists and teachers and an account of a von bülow class, hints on interpretation, by two american teachers (dr. william mason and william h. sherwood) and a summary by the author by harriette brower author of _the art of the pianist_ with sixteen portraits frederick a. stokes company the musical observer company 1915 [illustration: photo copyright by marran ignace jan paderewski] contents prelude ignace jan paderewski ernest schelling.....the hand of a pianist ernesto consolo.....making the piano a musical instrument sigismond stojowski.....mind in piano study. rudolph ganz.....conserving energy in piano practise tina lerner.....an audience the best teacher ethel leginska.....relaxation the keynote of modern piano playing bertha fiering tapper.....mastering piano problems carl m. roeder.....problems of piano teachers katharine goodson.....an artist at home mark hambourg.....form, technic, and expression tobias matthay.....watching the artist teacher at work harold bauer.....the question of piano tone raoul pugno.....training the child thuel burnham.....the "melody" and "coloratura" hand edwin hughes.....some essentials of piano playing ferruccio busoni.....an artist at home adele aus der ohe.....another artist at home eleanor spencer.....more light on leschetizky's ideas arthur hochman.....how the pianist can color tone with action and emotion teresa carreño.....early technical training wilhelm bachaus.....technical problems discussed alexander lambert.....american and european teachers fannie bloomfield zeisler.....the scope of piano technic agnes morgan.....simplicity in piano teaching eugene heffley.....modern tendencies germaine schnitzer.....modern methods in piano study ossip gabrilowitsch.....characteristic touch on the piano hans von bülow.....teacher and interpreter william h. sherwood and dr. william mason.....hints on interpretation postlude.....vital points in piano playing illustrations ignace jan paderewski sigismond stojowski rudolph ganz katharine goodson mark hambourg tobias matthay harold bauer raoul pugno ferruccio busoni eleanor spencer teresa carreño wilhelm bachaus fannie bloomfield zeisler ossip gabrilowitsch hans von bülow dr. william mason prelude to american piano teachers and students the following "talks" were obtained at the suggestion of the editor of _musical america_, and have all, with one or two exceptions, appeared in that paper. they were secured with the hope and intention of benefiting the american teacher and student. requests have come from all over the country, asking that the interviews be issued in book form. in this event it was the author's intention to ask each artist to enlarge and add to his own talk. this, however, has been practicable only in certain cases; in others the articles remain very nearly as they at first appeared. the summer of 1913 in europe proved to be a veritable musical pilgrimage, the milestones of which were the homes of the famous artists, who generously gave of their time and were willing to discuss their methods of playing and teaching. the securing of the interviews has given the author satisfaction and delight. she wishes to share both with the fellow workers of her own land. the talks are arranged in the order in which they were secured. piano mastery piano mastery i ignace jan paderewski one of the most consummate masters of the piano at the present time is ignace jan paderewski. those who were privileged to hear him during his first season in this country will never forget the experience. the polish artist conquered the new world as he had conquered the old; his name became a household word, known from coast to coast; he traveled over our land, a prince of tones, everywhere welcomed and honored. each succeeding visit deepened the admiration in which his wonderful art was held. the question has often been raised as to the reason of paderewski's remarkable hold on an audience; wherein lay his power over the musical and unmusical alike. whenever he played there was always the same intense hush over the listeners, the same absorbed attention, the same spell. the superficial attributed these largely to his appearance and manner; the more thoughtful looked deeper. here was a player who was a thoroughly trained master in technic and interpretation; one who knew his bach, beethoven, chopin, schumann and liszt. these things of themselves would not hold an audience spellbound, for there were other artists equally well equipped. in a final analysis it was doubtless paderewski's wonderful _piano tone_, so full of variety and color, so vital with numberless gradations of light and shade, that charmed and enthralled his listeners. it mattered to no one--save the critics--that he frequently repeated the same works. what if we heard the chromatic fantaisie a score of times? in his hands it became a veritable soliloquy on life and destiny, which each repetition invested with new meaning and beauty. what player has ever surpassed his poetic conception of schumann's _papillons_, or the chopin nocturnes, which he made veritable dream poems of love and ecstasy. what listener has ever forgotten the tremendous power and titanic effect of the liszt rhapsodies, especially no. 2? when paderewski first came to us, in the flush of his young manhood, he taught us what a noble instrument the piano really is in the hands of a consummate master. he showed us that he could make the piano speak with the delicacy and power of a rubinstein, but with more technical correctness; he proved that he could pierce our very soul with the intensity of his emotion, the poignant, heart-searching quality of his tones, the poetry and beauty of his interpretation. paderewski is known as composer and pianist, only rarely does he find time to give instruction on his instrument. mme. antoinette szumowska, the polish pianist and lecturer was at one time termed his "only pupil." mr. sigismond stojowski, the polish composer, pianist and teacher has also studied with him. both can testify as to his value as an instructor. mme. szumowska says: "paderewski lays great stress on legato playing, and desires everything to be studied slowly, with deep touch and with full, clear tone. for developing strength he uses an exercise for which the hand is pressed against the keyboard while the wrist remains very low and motionless and each finger presses on a key, bringing, or drawing out as much tone as possible. "paderewski advises studying scales and arpeggios with accents, for instance, accenting every third note, thus enabling each finger in turn to make the accent impulse: this will secure evenness of touch. double passages, such as double thirds and sixths, should be divided and each half practised separately, with legato touch. octaves should be practised with loose wrists and staccato touch. as a preparatory study practise with thumb alone. the thumb must always be kept curved, with joints well rounded out; it should touch the keys with its tip, so as to keep it on a level with the other fingers. paderewski is very particular about this point. "it is difficult to speak of paderewski's manner of teaching expression, for here the ideas differ with each composer and with every composition. as to tonal color, he requires all possible variety in tone production. he likes strong contrasts, which are brought out, not only by variety of touch but by skilful use of the pedals. "my lessons with paderewski were somewhat irregular. we worked together whenever he came to paris. sometimes i did not see him for several months, and then he would be in paris for a number of weeks; at such seasons we worked together very often. frequently these lessons, which were given in my cousin's house, began very late in the evening--around ten o'clock--and lasted till midnight, or even till one in the morning. "paderewski the teacher is as remarkable as paderewski the pianist. he is very painstaking; his remarks are clear and incisive: he often illustrates by playing the passage in question, or the whole composition. he takes infinite trouble to work out each detail and bring it to perfection. he is very patient and sweet tempered, though he can occasionally be a little sarcastic. he often grows very enthusiastic over his teaching, and quite forgets the lapse of time. in general, however, he does not care to teach, and naturally has little time for it." * * * * * mr. stojowski, when questioned in regard to his work with the polish pianist, said: "paderewski is a very remarkable teacher. there are teachers who attempt to instruct pupils about what they do not understand, or cannot do themselves: there are others who are able to do the thing, but are not able to explain how they do it. paderewski can both do it and explain how it is done. he knows perfectly what effects he wishes to produce, how they are to be produced, the causes which underlie and bring them about; he can explain and demonstrate these to the pupil with the greatest exactness and detail. "as you justly remark the quality of tone and the variety of tonal gradations are special qualities of paderewski's playing. these must be acquired by aid of the ear, which tests and judges each shade and quality of tone. he counsels the student to listen to each tone he produces, for quality and variety. clearness a must principle "the player, as he sits at the piano, his mind and heart filled with the beauty of the music his fingers are striving to produce, vainly imagines he is making the necessary effects. paderewski will say to him: 'no doubt you feel the beauty of this composition, but i hear none of the effects you fancy you are making; you must deliver everything much more clearly: distinctness of utterance is of prime importance.'' then he shows how clearness and distinctness may be acquired. the fingers must be rendered firm, with no giving in at the nail joint. a technical exercise which he gives, and which i also use in my teaching, trains the fingers in up and down movements, while the wrist is held very low and pressed against the keyboard. at first simple five-finger forms are used; when the hand has become accustomed to this tonic, some of the czerny op. 740 can be played, with the hand in this position. great care should be taken when using this principle, or lameness will result. a low seat at the piano is a necessity for this practise; sitting low is an aid to weight playing: we all know how low paderewski himself sits at the instrument. "you ask what technical material is employed. czerny, op. 740; not necessarily the entire opus; three books are considered sufficient. also clementi's _gradus_. of course scales must be carefully studied, with various accents, rhythms and tonal dynamics; arpeggios also. many arpeggio forms of value may be culled from compositions. "there are, as we all know, certain fundamental principles that underlie all correct piano study, though various masters may employ different ways and means to exemplify these fundamentals. paderewski studied with leschetizky and inculcates the principles taught by that master, with this difference, that he adapts his instruction to the physique and mentality of the student; whereas the vorbereiters of leschetizky prepare all pupils along the same lines, making them go through a similar routine, which may not in every instance be necessary. fingering "one point paderewski is very particular about, and that is fingering. he often carefully marks the fingering for a whole piece; once this is decided upon it must be kept to. he believes in employing a fingering which is most comfortable to the hand, as well as one which, in the long run, will render the passage most effective. he is most sensitive to the choice of fingering the player makes, and believes that each finger can produce a different quality of tone. once, when i was playing a nocturne, he called to me from the other end of the room: 'why do you always play that note with the fourth finger? i can _hear_ you do it; the effect is bad,' he has a keen power of observation; he notices little details which pass unheeded by most people; nothing escapes him. this power, directed to music, makes him the most careful and painstaking of teachers. at the same time, in the matter of fingering, he endeavors to choose the one which can be most easily accomplished by the player. the von bülow editions, while very erudite, are apt to be laborious and pedantic; they show the german tendency to over-elaboration, which, when carried too far becomes a positive fault. correct motion "another principle paderewski considers very important is that of appropriate motion. he believes in the elimination of every unnecessary movement, yet he wishes the whole body free and supple. motions should be as carefully studied as other technical points. it is true he often makes large movements of arm, but they are all thought out and have a dramatic significance. he may lift the finger off a vehement staccato note by quick up-arm motion, in a flash of vigorous enthusiasm; but the next instant his hand is in quiet position for the following phrase. studying effects "the intent listening i spoke of just now must be of vital assistance to the player in his search for tonal variety and effect. tone production naturally varies according to the space which is to be filled. greater effort must be put forth in a large hall, to make the tone carry over the footlights, to render the touch clear, the accents decisive and contrasts pronounced. in order to become accustomed to these conditions, the studio piano can be kept closed, and touch must necessarily be made stronger to produce the desired power. interpretation "a great artist's performance of a noble work ought to sound like a spontaneous improvisation; the greater the artist the more completely will this result be attained. in order to arrive at this result, however, the composition must be dissected in minutest detail. inspiration comes with the first conception of the interpretation of the piece. afterward all details are painstakingly worked out, until the ideal blossoms into the perfectly executed performance. paderewski endeavors uniformly to render a piece in the manner and spirit in which he has conceived it. he relates that after one of his recitals, a lady said to him: "'why, mr. paderewski, you did not play this piece the same as you did when i heard you before,' "'i assure you i intended to,' was the reply. "'oh, it isn't necessary to play it always the same way; you are not a machine,' said the lady. "this reply aroused his artist-nature. "'it is just because i am an artist that i ought at all times to play in the same way. i have thought out the conception of that piece, and am in duty bound to express my ideal as nearly as possible each time i perform it.' "paderewski instructs, as he does everything else, with magnificent generosity. he takes no account of time. i would come to him for a stipulated half-hour, but the lesson would continue indefinitely, until we were both forced to stop from sheer exhaustion. i have studied with him at various times. one summer especially stands out in my memory, when i had a lesson almost every day." speaking of the rarely beautiful character of paderewski's piano compositions, mr. stojowski said: "i feel that the ignorance of this music among piano teachers and students is a crying shame. what modern piano sonata have we to-day, to compare with his? i know of none. and the songs--are they not wonderful! i love the man and his music so much that i am doing what lies in my power to make these compositions better known. there is need of pioneer work in this matter, and i am glad to do some of it." ii ernest schelling the hand of a pianist as i sat in the luxurious salon of the apartments near the park, where mr. and mrs. ernest schelling were spending the winter, sounds of vigorous piano practise floated out to me from a distant chamber. it was unusual music, and seemed to harmonize with the somewhat oriental atmosphere and coloring of the music-room, with its heavily beamed ceiling of old silver, its paintings and tapestries. the playing ceased and soon the artist appeared, greeting the visitor with genial friendliness of manner. he was accompanied by the "lord of the manor," a beautiful white bull terrier, with coat as white as snow. this important personage at once curled himself up in the most comfortable arm-chair, a quiet, profound observer of all that passed. in the midst of some preliminary chat, the charming hostess entered and poured tea for us. the talk soon turned upon the subject in which i was deeply interested--the technical training of a pianist. "technic is such an individual matter," began mr. schelling; "for it depends on so many personal things: the physique, the mentality, the amount of nervous energy one has, the hand and wrist. perhaps the poorest kind of hand for the piano is the long narrow one, with long fingers. far better to have a short, broad one with short fingers. josef hofmann has a wonderful hand for the piano; rather small, yes, but so thick and muscular. the wrist, too, is a most important factor. some pianists have what i call a 'natural wrist,' that is they have a natural control of it; it is no trouble for them to play octaves, for instance. mme. carreño has that kind of wrist; she never had difficulty with octaves, they are perfect, hofmann also has a marvelous wrist. i am sorry to say i have not that kind of wrist, and therefore have been much handicapped on that account. for i have had to work tremendously to develop not only the wrist but the whole technic. you see i was a wonder child, and played a great deal as a small boy. then from fifteen to twenty i did not practise anything like what i ought to have done. that is the period when the bones grow, muscles develop--everything grows. another thing against me is the length of my fingers. when the fingers are longer than the width of the hand across the knuckle joint, it is not an advantage but a detriment. the extra length of finger is only so much dead weight that the hand has to lift. this is another disadvantage i have had to work against. yes, as you say, it is a rather remarkable hand in regard to size and suppleness. but i hardly agree that it is like liszt's; more like chopin's, judging from the casts i have seen of his hand. "as for technical routine, of course i play scales a good deal and in various ways. when i 'go into training,' i find the best means to attain velocity is to work with the metronome. one can't jump at once into the necessary agility, and the metronome is a great help in bringing one up to the right pitch. you see by the firmness of these muscles at the back and thumb side of my hand, that i am in good trim now; but one soon loses this if one lets up on the routine. "then i practise trills of all kinds, and octaves. yes, i agree that octaves are a most necessary and important factor in the player's technical equipment." going to the piano and illustrating as he talked, mr. schelling continued: "merely flopping the hand up and down, as many do, is of little use--it does not lead to strength or velocity. as you see, i hold the hand arched and very firm, and the firmness is in the fingers as well; the hand makes up and down movements with loose wrist; the result is a full, bright, crisp tone. one can play these octaves slowly, using weight, or faster with crisp, staccato touch. i play diatonic or chromatic octave scales, with four repetitions or more, on each note--using fourth finger for black keys. "i sit low at the piano, as i get better results in this way; though it is somewhat more difficult to obtain them. i confess it is easier to sit high and bear down on the hands. yes, i thoroughly approve of 'weight touch,' and it is the touch i generally use. sometimes it is a certain pressure on the key after it is played, using arm weight. "ah, you are right. the young teacher or player, in listening to the artist, and noticing he does not lift his fingers to any extent, and that he always plays with weight, hastily concludes these are the principles with which he must begin to study or teach the piano. it is a mistake to begin in that way. very exact finger movements must be learned in the beginning. as i said before, technic is such an individual matter, that after the first period of foundational training, one who has the desire to become an artist, must work out things for himself. there should be no straight-laced methods. only a few general rules can be laid down, such as will fit most cases. the player who would rise to any distinction must work out his own salvation. "in regard to memorizing piano music, it may be said this can be accomplished in three ways: namely, with the eye, with the ear, and with the hand. for example: i take the piece and read it through with the eye, just as i would read a book. i get familiar with the notes in this way, and see how they look in print. i learn to know them so well that i have a mental photograph of them, and if necessary could recall any special measure or phrase so exactly that i could write it. all this time my mental ear has been hearing those notes, and is familiar with them. then the third stage arrives; i must put all this on the keyboard, my fingers must have their training; impressions must pass from the mind to the fingers; then all is complete." iii ernesto consolo making the piano a musical instrument in a long conversation with ernesto consolo, the eminent pianist and instructor, many points of vital importance to the player and teacher were touched upon. among other things mr. consolo said: "it is absolutely necessary that the piano teacher should take his profession very seriously. in my opinion there is most excellent instruction to be secured right here in america, with such teachers as are willing to take their work seriously. the time is not far away, i think, when america will enjoy a very prominent position in the matter of musical instruction, and perhaps lead the world in musical advantages. the time is not here just yet, but it is surely coming. you are still young in this country, though you are wonderfully progressive. "if i have spoken of the serious aims of many teachers of piano, i cannot say as much for the students: they are often superficial and want to go too quickly; they are apt to be in a hurry and want to make a show, without being willing to spend the necessary years on preparation. no art can be hurried. students of painting, sculpture, architecture or music must all learn the technique of their art; they must all learn to go deep into the mysteries and master technic as the means to the end, and no one requires exhaustive preparation more than the executive musician. the person who would fence, box or play baseball must know the technic of these things; how much more must the pianist be master of the technique of his instrument if he would bring out the best results. "at the very bottom and heart of this subject of mastery lies concentration: without that, little of value can be accomplished. students think if they sit at the piano and 'practise' a certain number of hours daily, it is sufficient. a small portion of that time, if used with intense concentration, will accomplish more. one player will take hours to learn a page or a passage which another will master in a fraction of the time. what is the difference? it may be said one has greater intelligence than the other. the greater the intelligence, the stronger the power of concentration. "if a pupil comes to me whose powers of concentration have not been awakened or developed, i sometimes give him music to read over very slowly, so slowly that every note, phrase and finger mark can be distinctly seen. not being used to thinking intently, mistakes occur, in one hand or the other, showing that the mind was not sufficiently concentrated. it is the mind every time that wins. without using our mental powers to their fullest extent we fail of the best that is in us. "in regard to technical equipment and routine, i do different work with each pupil, for each pupil is different. no two people have the same hands, physique or mentality; so why should they all be poured into the same mold? one student, for example, has splendid wrists and not very good fingers. why should i give him the same amount of wrist practise that i give his brother who has feeble wrists; it would only be a waste of time. again, a pupil with limited ideas of tonal quality and dynamics is advised to study tone at the piano in some simple melody of schubert or chopin, trying to realize a beautiful tone--playing it in various ways until such a quality is secured. the piano is a responsive instrument and gives back what you put into it. if you attack it with a hard touch, it will respond with a harsh tone. it rests with you whether the piano shall be a musical instrument or not. "a student who comes to me with a very poor touch must of course go back to first principles and work up. such an one must learn correct movements and conditions of hands, arms and fingers; and these can be acquired at a table. along with these, however, i would always give some simple music to play, so that the tonal and musical sense shall not be neglected. "of course i advise comprehensive scale practise; scales in all keys and in various rhythms and touches. there is an almost endless variety of ways to play scales. those in double thirds and sixths i use later, after the others are under control. arpeggios are also included in this scale practise. "i have said that concentration is the keynote of piano mastery. another principle which goes hand in hand with it is relaxation. unless this condition is present in arms, wrist and shoulders, the tone will be hard and the whole performance constrained and unmusical. there is no need of having tired muscles or those that feel strained or painful. if this condition arises it is proof that there is stiffness, that relaxation has not taken place. i can sit at the piano and play _forte_ for three hours at a time and not feel the least fatigue in hands and arms. furthermore, the playing of one who is relaxed, who knows how to use his anatomy, will not injure the piano. we must remember the piano is a thing of joints; the action is so delicately adjusted that it moves with absolute freedom and ease. the player but adds another joint, which should equal in ease and adjustment the ones already there. on the other hand a person with stiff joints and rigid muscles, thumping ragtime on a good piano, can ruin it in a week; whereas under the fingers of a player who understands the laws of relaxation, it would last for many years. "this principle of relaxation is exemplified in the athlete, baseball player, and others. they have poise and easy adjustment in every part of the body: they never seem to fall into strained or stiff attitudes, nor make angular or stiff movements. arms, shoulders, wrists and fingers are all relaxed and easy. the pianist needs to study these principles as well as the athlete, i believe in physical exercises to a certain extent. light-weight dumb-bells can be used; it is surprising how light a weight is sufficient to accomplish the result. but it must be one movement at a time, exercising one muscle at a time, and not various muscles at once. "for memorizing piano music i can say i have no method whatever. when i know the piece technically or mechanically, i know it by heart. i really do not know when the memorizing takes place. the music is before me on the piano; i forget to turn the pages, and thus find i know the piece. in playing with orchestra i know the parts of all instruments, unless it be just a simple chord accompaniment; it would not interest me to play with orchestra and not know the music in this way. on one occasion i was engaged to play the sgambatti concerto, which i had not played for some time. i tried it over on the piano and found i could not remember it. my first idea was to get out the score and go over it; the second was to try and recall the piece from memory. i tried the latter method, with the result that in about three hours and a half i had the whole concerto back in mind. i played the work ten days later without having once consulted the score. this goes to prove that memory must be absolute and not merely mechanical. "students think they cannot memorize, when it would be quite easy if they would apply themselves in the right way. i ask them to look intently at a small portion, two measures, or even one, and afterward to play it without looking at the notes. of course, as you say, this can be done away from the piano; the notes can even be recited; but there are other signs and marks to be considered and remembered, so when one can be at the piano i consider it better. "piano playing is such an individual and complex thing. i do not require nor expect my pupils to play as i do, nor interpret as i interpret, for then i would only see just so many replicas of myself, and their individuality would be lost. i often hear them play a composition in a different way and with a different spirit from the one i find in it. but i don't say to them, 'that is wrong; you must play it as i do,' no, i let them play it as they see and feel it, so long as there is no sin against artistic taste. "i trust these few points will be helpful to both player and teacher. the latter needs all the encouragement we artists can give, for in most cases he is doing a good work. "volumes might be added to these hurried remarks, but for that my time is too limited." iv sigismond stojowski mind in piano study mr. sigismond stojowski, the eminent polish pianist and composer, was found one morning in his new york studio, at work with a gifted pupil. he was willing to relax a little, however, and have a chat on such themes as might prove helpful to both teacher and student. "you ask me to say something on the most salient points in piano technic; perhaps we should say, the points that are most important to each individual; for no two students are exactly alike, nor do any two see things in precisely the same light. this is really a psychological matter. i believe the subject of psychology is a very necessary study for both teacher and student. we all need to know more about mental processes than we do. i am often asked how to memorize, for instance--or the best means for doing this; another psychological process. i recommend students to read william james' _talks on psychology_; a very helpful book. "the most vital thing in piano playing is to learn to think. has it ever occurred to you what infinite pains people will take to avoid thinking? they will repeat a technical illustration hundreds of times it may be, but with little or no thought directed to the performance. such work is absolutely useless. perhaps that is a little too strong. with countless repetitions there may at last come to be a little improvement, but it will be very small. "there is quite a variety of views as to what the essentials of piano technic are; this is a subject on which teachers, unluckily, do not agree. for instance, on the point of finger lifting there is great diversity of opinion. some believe in raising the fingers very high, others do not. lifting the fingers high is not good for the tone, though it may be used for velocity playing. i use quite the reverse where i wish beautiful, singing, tone quality. the young pupil, at the beginning, must of course learn to raise fingers and make precise movements; when greater proficiency is reached, many modifications of touch are used. that the best results are not more often obtained in piano teaching and study, is as much the fault of the teacher as the pupil. the latter is usually willing to be shown and anxious to learn. it is for the teacher to correctly diagnose the case and administer the most efficient remedy. [illustration: to miss harriett brower with the kindest of remembrances, sigismond stojowski new york, april 1913] natural technic "there is a certain amount of what i might call 'natural technic' possessed by every one--some one point which is easy for him. it is often the trill. it has frequently come under my notice that players with little facility in other ways, can make a good trill. some singers have this gift; mme. melba is one who never had to study a trill, for she was born with a nightingale in her throat. i knew a young man in london who was evidently born with an aptitude for octaves. he had wonderful wrists, and could make countless repetitions of the octave without the least fatigue. he never had to practise octaves, they came to him naturally. "the teacher's work is both corrective and constructive. he must see what is wrong and be able to correct it. like a physician, he should find the weak and deficient parts and build them up. he should have some remedy at his command that will fit the needs of each pupil. "i give very few études, and those i administer in homeopathic doses. it is not necessary to play through a mass of études to become a good pianist. much of the necessary technic may be learned from the pieces themselves, though scales and arpeggios must form part of the daily routine. keeping up a repertoire "in keeping a large number of pieces in mind, i may say that the pianist who does much teaching is in a sense taught by his pupils. i have many advanced pupils, and in teaching their repertoire i keep up my own. of course after a while one grows a little weary of hearing the same pieces rendered by students; the most beautiful no longer seem fresh. my own compositions are generally exceptions, as i do not often teach those. to the thoughtful teacher, the constant hearing of his repertoire by students shows him the difficulties that younger players have to encounter, and helps him devise means to aid them to conquer these obstacles. at the same time there is this disadvantage: the pianist cannot fail to remember the places at which such and such a student had trouble, forgot or stumbled. this has happened to me at various times. in my recitals i would be playing ahead, quite unconscious that anything untoward could occur--wholly absorbed in my work; when, at a certain point, the recollection would flash over me--this is where such or such a pupil stumbled. the remembrance is sometimes so vivid that i am at some effort to keep my mental balance and proceed with smoothness and certainty. "yes, i go over my pieces mentally, especially if i am playing an entirely new program which i have never played before; otherwise i do not need to do so much of it. filling in a passage "you suggest that a composer may fill in or make up a passage, should he forget a portion of the piece when playing in public. true; but improvising on a well-known work is rather a dangerous thing to do in order to improve a bad case. apropos of this, i am reminded of an incident which occurred at one of my european recitals. it was a wholly new program which i was to give at vevay. i had been staying with paderewski, and went from morges to vevay, to give the recital. in my room at the hotel i was mentally reviewing the program, when in a mendelssohn fugue, i found i had forgotten a small portion. i could remember what went before and what came after, but this particular passage had seemingly gone. i went down to the little parlor and tried the fugue on the piano, but could not remember the portion in question. i hastened back to my room and constructed a bridge which should connect the two parts. when the time came to play the fugue at the recital, it all went smoothly till i was well over the weak spot, which, it seems, i really played as mendelssohn wrote it. as i neared the last page, the question suddenly occurred to me, what had i done with that doubtful passage? what had really happened i could not remember; and the effort to recall whether i had played mendelssohn or stojowski nearly brought disaster to that last page. "as soon as my season closes here i shall go to london and bring out my second piano concerto with the london symphony orchestra, under nikisch. i shall also play various recitals." it was my good fortune to be present at the orchestral concert at queen's hall, when mr. stojowski was the soloist. it was pleasant to see the enthusiasm aroused by the concerto itself, and the performance of it by the artist. v rudolph ganz conserving energy in piano practise [illustration: rudolph ganz] "one of the most necessary things is the conserving of vital energy in piano practise," said the pianist rudolph ganz to me one day. "the wrong way is to continually practise the piece as though you were playing it in public--that is to say, with all possible energy and emotion. some of the pianists now before the public do this, and it always makes me sorry for them, for i know what a needless waste of energy and vital force it is. an actor, studying his lines, does not need to continually shout them in order to learn how they should be interpreted. neither does the lyric actress practise her roles with full tones, for she is well used to saving her voice. why then should the pianist exhaust himself and give out his whole strength merely in the daily routine of practise? i grant this principle of saving one's self may not be easy to learn, but it should be acquired by all players, great and small. i think a pianist should be able to practise five or six hours daily without fatigue. if the player is accustomed to husband his vital force during the daily routine of practise, he can play a long, exacting program in public without weariness. in every day practise one often does not need to play _forte_ nor use the pedals; a tone of medium power is sufficient. suppose, for instance, you are studying the chopin étude op. 10, no. 12, with the left hand arpeggio work. every note and finger must be in place, every mark of phrasing obeyed; but during practise hours you need not give the piece all its dashing vigor and bravura at every repetition. such a course would soon exhaust the player. yet every effect you wish to make must be thoroughly studied, must be in mind, and used at intervals whenever a complete performance of the piece is desired. "as i said before, it is often difficult to control the impulse to 'let loose,' if the work is an exciting one. at a recent rehearsal with the symphony orchestra, i told the men i would quietly run through the concerto i was to play, merely indicating the effects i wanted. we began, but in five minutes i found myself playing with full force and vigor. "in regard to methods in piano study there seems to be a diversity of opinion, resulting, i think, from the various ways of touching the keys--some players using the tip and others the ball of the finger. busoni may be cited as one who employs the end of the finger--pauer also; while the frenchman, cortôt, who has an exquisite tone, plays with the hand almost flat on the keys, a method which certainly insures weight of hand and arm. of course players generally, and teachers also, agree on the employment of arm weight in playing. the principles of piano technic are surely but few. was it not liszt who said: 'play the right key with the right finger, the right tone and the right intention--that is all!' it seems to me piano technic has been pushed to its limit, and there must be a reversal; we may return to some of the older methods of touch and technic. "the vital thing in piano playing is to bring out the composer's meaning, plus your own inspiration and feeling. you must study deeply into the composer's idea, but you must also put your own feeling, intensity and emotion into the piece. and not only must you feel the meaning yourself, but you must play it in a way to touch others. there are many pianists who are not cultured musicians; who think they know their beethoven because they can play a few sonatas. in music 'knowledge is power.' we need all possible knowledge, but we also need to feel the inspiration. one of the greatest teachers of our time holds that personal inspiration is not necessary; for the feeling is all in the music itself. all we have to do is to play with such and such a dynamic quality of tone. like a country doctor measuring out his drugs, this master apportions so many grains of power for _forte_, for _mezzo_, for _piano_, and so on. this plan puts a damper on individuality and enthusiasm, for it means that everything must be coldly calculated. such playing does not really warm the heart. "i believe in teaching tonal contrasts and tone color even to a beginner. why should not the child form a concept of _forte_ and _piano_, and so get away from the deadly monotony of _mezzo_? i have written some little descriptive piano pieces, and my small boy learned one of them to play for me. there is a closing phrase like this," and mr. ganz illustrated at the piano; "it is to be played _forte_, and is followed by a few notes to be touched very softly, like an echo. it was really beautiful to see how the little fellow reached out for the pedal to make the loud part more emphatic, and then played the echo very softly and neatly. he had grasped the first principle of tone color--namely tone contrast, and also a poetic idea. "there are so many wonder children in these days, and many marvels are accomplished by infant prodigies. very often however, these wonder children develop no further; they fail to fulfil their early promise, or the expectations held of them. "a youthful wonder in the field of composition is eric korngold, whose piano sonata i played in my new york recital. i have played this work eight times in all, during my present tour, often by request. to me it is most interesting. i cannot say it is logical in the development of its ideas; it often seems as though the boy threw in chords here and there with no particular reason. thus the effort of memorizing is considerable, for i must always bear in mind that this c major chord has a c sharp in it, or that such and such a chord is changed into a most unusual one. one cannot predict whether the boy will develop further. as you say, mozart was an infant prodigy, but if we judge from the first little compositions that have been preserved, he began very simply and worked up, whereas korngold begins at richard strauss. his compositions are full of the influence of strauss. the critics have much to say for and against these early works. i do not know the young composer personally, though he has written me. in a recent letter which i have here, he expresses the thought that, though the critics have found many things to disapprove of in the sonata, the fact that i have found it worth studying and bringing out more than compensates him for all adverse criticism. to make the work known in the great musical centers of america is surely giving it wide publicity." on a later occasion, mr. ganz said: "i thoroughly believe in preserving one's enthusiasm for modern music, even though, at first glance, it does not attract one, or indeed seems almost impossible. i enjoy studying new works, and learning what is the modern trend of thought in piano work; it keeps me young and buoyant. "one of the novelties lately added to my repertoire is the haydn sonata in d. on the same program i place the korngold sonata. a hundred years and more divide the two works. while i revere the old, it interests me to keep abreast of the new thought in musical art and life." vi tina lerner an audience is the best teacher between the many engagements that crowded upon the close of her long american tour, miss tina lerner found time to talk over certain topics of significance which bear upon pianistic problems. we began by referring to the different methods of holding the hands, moving the fingers and touching the keys, as exemplified by the various pianists now before the public. "it is true that i play with the ball of the finger on the key, which necessitates a flat position of hand, with low wrist." here the pianist illustrated the point by playing several pearly scales with straight, outstretched fingers. "i never realized, however, that i played in this way, until mr. ernest hutcheson, the pianist, of baltimore, recently called my attention to it. the fact is, i have always taken positions of body, arms, hands and fingers, which seemed to me the most natural and easy. this i did when i began, at the age of five, and i have always kept to them, in spite of what various teachers have endeavored to do for me. fortunately my early teachers were sensible and careful; they kept me at the classics, and did not give too difficult pieces. the principles followed by most great pianists i believe are correct; but i have always kept to my own natural way. in hand position, therefore, i am individual; perhaps no one else plays with such a finger position, so in this i am unique. "for some reason unknown to me, it has come to be imagined that i have studied with leschetizky; this is entirely refuted when i say i have never been in vienna. it seems we are getting away from the idea of helping ourselves out with the name of some great teacher. the question should be: what has the player in himself, what can he accomplish? not, whose pupil is he? we know of some of leschetizky's famous pupils, but we never hear of the thousands he must have had, who have come to nothing. a teacher can only do a certain amount for you; he can give you new ideas, which each pupil works out for himself in his own way. the piano student learns from so many different sources. he attends a piano recital and acquires many ideas of touch, tone, phrasing and interpretation; he hears a great singer or violinist and absorbs a wholly new set of thoughts, or he listens to a grand orchestra, and gains more than from all the others. then there is life to study from: experience--living--loving: all go into the work of the musician. a musical career is indeed the most exacting one that can be chosen. "i have been asked whether i prefer to play for an audience of 'music-lovers' or one of 'music knowers.' perhaps an equal mixture is the happy medium. of the two sorts it seems to me the music-knowers are preferable, for even if they are very critical, they also recognize the various points you make; they see and appreciate what you are striving for. they are not inclined to say, 'i don't like such or such a player'; for the music-knower understands the vast amount of time and energy, labor and talent that go to make a pianist. he rather says, 'i prefer the playing of such or such an artist.' the word 'like' in connection with a great artist seems almost an affront. what does it matter if his work is not 'liked' by some? he knows it can stand for what it is--the utmost perfection of his powers--of himself. and after all the audience is the greatest teacher an artist can have; i have learned more from this teacher than from any other. in this school i learn what moves and touches an audience; how to improve this or that passage; how to make a greater climax here, or more sympathetic coloring there. for in conceiving how a work should sound, i get--in my study of it--a general idea of the whole, and make it as nearly perfect as i am able. but it has to be tested and tried--an audience must pass its opinion--must set the seal of approval upon it. when the work has been polished by repeated trials in this school, interpretation then becomes crystallized in the mind and the piece can always be given in nearly the same way. a painter does not change nor repaint his picture each time he exhibits it; why need the musician change his idea of the interpretation at each repetition? to trust too much to the inspiration of the moment might injure the performance as a whole. when i have my ideal of the interpretation worked out in mind, it becomes my sacred duty to play it always in this spirit--always to give my best. i can never think that because i am playing in boston or new york, i must strive harder for perfection than if i play in a little town. no, i must give the highest that is in me, no matter where it may be. people sometimes ask me if i am nervous before a recital. it is not that i am afraid of people; but i am always anxious about being able to realize my ideal, when the moment comes. "i can say i prefer playing in america to anywhere else in the world; for there are more real appreciation and understanding here than in any other country. of course the great music centers all over the world are about the same; but the difference lies in the smaller cities, which in america are far more advanced musically than in europe. i have proved this to be the case repeatedly. not long ago i was booked for a couple of recitals in a small town of not more than two thousand inhabitants. when i arrived at the little place, and saw the barn of a hotel, i wondered what these people could want with piano recitals. but when i came to the college where i was to play and found such a large, intelligent audience gathered, some of whom had traveled many miles to be present, it proved in what estimation music was held. the teacher of this school was a good musician, who had studied nine years with leschetizky, in vienna; the pupils understood the numbers on the program, were wide awake, and well informed as to what was going on in the world of music. "one handicap the present day pianist encounters, who plays much with orchestra, and that is the dearth of modern concertos. the familiar ten or dozen famous ones are played over and over, and one seldom hears anything new. there are new ones written, to be sure, but the public has not learned to care for them. the beautiful second concerto of rachmaninoff has not made a success, even in the great music centers, where the most intelligent audiences have heard it. i believe that if an audience of the best musicians could be assembled in a small room and this work could be played to them, they could not fail to be impressed with its beauties. i am now studying a new concerto by haddon wood, which you see in manuscript there on the piano; it is one i find very beautiful." a subsequent conversation with the artist elicited the following: "i might say that i began my music when about four years old, by playing the russian national hymn, on a toy piano containing eight keys, which had been given me. my older sister, who was studying the piano, noticed this, showed me a few things about the notes, and i constantly picked out little tunes and pieces on the real piano. finally one day my sister's teacher, rudolph heim, came to the house, mainly on my account. this was in odessa, in the south of russia, where i was born and where i spent my early years. on this occasion, he wanted to look at me and see what i could do. unluckily a sudden fit of shyness overcame me and i began to cry; the exhibition could not take place, as nothing could be made out of me that day. you see i was headstrong even at that early age," said the young pianist, with one of her charming smiles. "soon after this incident, i was taken to the professor's studio. he examined me, considered i had talent, and thought it should be cultivated. so he took me in hand. i was then five, and my real musical education began at that time. "from the very first i adopted a position of hand which seemed to me most convenient and comfortable, and no amount of contrary instruction and advice has ever been able to make me change it. i play scales and passages with low hand and flat fingers because that position seems the most favorable for my hand. when practising, i play everything very slowly, raising my fingers high and straight from the knuckle joint. this gives me great clearness and firmness. in rapid passage work the action is reduced, but the position remains. i am said to have a clear, pearly touch, with quite sufficient power at my command for large works. "after five years of study with my first teacher, rudolph heim, a pupil of moscheles, i entered the moscow conservatory, and continued my studies under professor pabst, brother and teacher of the composer of that name. i was then ten years old. professor pabst was very conservative, very strict, and kept me at work on the music of the older masters. this kind of music suits me, i think; at least i enjoy it. even here i still clung to my ideas of holding my hands and of touching the keys, and always expect to do so. "i remained with this professor about six years and then began my public career. "you ask about my present studies, and how i regulate my practise. during my periods of rest from concert work, i practise a great deal--i wish i could say all the time, but that is not quite possible. i give an hour or more a day to technical practise. as to the material, i use chopin's études constantly, playing them with high-raised, outstretched fingers, in very slow tempo. one finds almost every technical problem illustrated in these études; octaves, arpeggios, scales in double thirds and sixths, repeated notes, as in number 7, broken chords and passage work. i keep all these études in daily practise, also using some of the liszt _études transcendantes_, and, of course, bach. the advantage of using this sort of material is that one never tires of it; it is always interesting and beautiful. with this material well in hand, i am always ready for recital, and need only to add special pieces and modern music. "in learning a new work i first study it very slowly, trying to become familiar with its meaning. i form my concept of it and _live_ with it for months before i care to bring it forward. i try to form an ideal conception of the piece, work this out in every detail, then always endeavor to render it as closely like the ideal as possible." vii ethel leginska relaxation the keynote of modern piano playing the brilliant young pianist, ethel leginska, who is located for a time in america, was seen in her carnegie hall studio, on her return from a concert tour. the young english girl is a petite brunette; her face is very expressive, her manner at once vivacious and serious. the firm muscles of her fine, shapely hands indicate that she must spend many hours daily at the keyboard. "yes, i have played a great deal in public--all my life, in fact--ever since i was six. i began my musical studies at hull, where we lived; my first teacher was a pupil of mcfarren. later i was taken to london, where some rich people did a great deal for me. afterward i went to leschetizky, and was with him several years, until i was sixteen; i also studied in berlin. then i began my career, and concertized all over europe; now i am in america for a time. i like it here; i am fond of your country already. "the piano is such a wonderful instrument to me; i feel we are only beginning to fathom its possibilities; not in a technical sense, but as a big avenue for expression. for me the piano is capable of reflecting every mood, every feeling; all pathos, joy, sorrow--the good and the evil too--all there is in life, all that one has lived." (this recalls a recently published remark of j. s. van cleve: "the piano can sing, march, dance, sparkle, thunder, weep, sneer, question, assert, complain, whisper, hint; in one word it is the most versatile and plastic of instruments.") "as for the technic of the piano, i think of it only as the material--only as a means to an end. in fact i endeavor to get away from the thought of the technical material, in order that i may get at the meaning of the music i wish to interpret. i am convinced there is a great future for the piano and its music. even now we are taking piano music very seriously, and are trying to interpret it in a far deeper and broader sense than the pianists of, say, fifty years ago ever thought of doing. i fancy if clara schumann, for instance, could return and play to us, or even liszt himself, we should not find their playing suited to this age at all. some of us yet remember the hand position mme. schumann had, the lack of freedom in fingers and arms. it was not the fashion of her time to play with the relaxed freedom, with the breadth and depth of style which we demand of artists to-day. in those days relaxation had not received the attention it deserved, therefore we should probably find the playing of the greatest artists of a former generation stiff and angular, in spite of all we have heard of their wonderful performances. "relaxation is a hobby with me; i believe in absolute freedom in every part of the arm anatomy, from the shoulder down to the finger-tips. stiffness seems to me the most reprehensible thing in piano playing, as well as the most common fault with all kinds of players. when people come to play for me, that is the thing i see first in them, the stiffness. while living in berlin, i saw much of mme. teresa carreño, and she feels the same as i do about relaxation, not only at the keyboard, but when sitting, moving about or walking. she has thought along this line so constantly, that sometimes, if carrying something in hand, she will inadvertently let it drop, without realizing it--from sheer force of the habit of relaxation. "you ask how i would begin with a young pupil who never has had lessons. i use the principle of relaxation first of all, loosening arms and wrists. this principle can be taught to the youngest pupil. the wrist is elevated and lowered, as the hand is formed on the keys in its five finger position, with arched knuckles. it does not take long to acquire this relaxed condition; then come the finger movements. i do not believe in lifting the fingers high above the keys; this takes time and interferes with velocity and power. i lift my fingers but little above the keys, yet i have plenty of power, all the critics agree on that. in chords and octaves i get all the power i need by grasping the keys with weight and pressure. i do not even prepare the fingers in the air, before taking the chord; i do not find it necessary." here the pianist played a succession of ringing chords, whose power and tonal quality bore out her words; the fingers seemed merely to press and cling; there was no striking nor percussion. "to return to the beginning pupil. as for a book to start with, i often use the one by damm, though any foundational work may be employed, so long as correct principles are taught. it is said by leschetizky that he has no method. that may be understood to mean a book, for he certainly has what others would call a method. there are principles and various sets of exercises to be learned; but it is quite true that none of the vorbereiters use a book. "in teaching the piano, as you know, every pupil is different; each has his or her own peculiar hand, and a different degree of intelligence. so each pupil must be treated differently. this is really an advantage to the teacher; for it would be very monotonous if all pupils were alike. "the piano is such a revealer of character; i need only to hear a person play to know what sort of character he has. if one is inclined to much careful detail in everything, it comes out in the playing. if one is indolent and indifferent, it is seen the moment one touches the keys; or if one is built on broad, generous lines, and sees the dramatic point in life and things, all this is revealed at the piano. "to refer again to the subject of finger action. i do not believe in the so-called finger stroke; on the contrary i advocate fingers close to the keys, clinging to them whenever you can. this is also arthur schnabel's idea. you should hear schnabel; all berlin is wild over him, and whenever he gives a concert the house is sold out. he has quantities of pupils also, and is quite a remarkable teacher. one point i insist upon which he doesn't: i will not allow the joint of the finger next the tip to break or give in. i can not stand that, but schnabel doesn't seem to care about it; his mind is filled with only the big, broad things of music. "in regard to memorizing piano compositions. i do it phrase by phrase, and at the instrument, unless i am traveling or unable to get to a piano, in which case i think it out from the notes. if the piece is very difficult i take a short passage of two or three measures and play each hand separately and then together; but generally i play the passage complete--say half a dozen times with the notes, and then repeat it the same number of times from memory. perhaps the next day i have forgotten it, so the work has to be done over again; the second time, however, it generally sticks. "my great longing and ambition is to write music, to become a composer. with this end in view, i give whatever time i am able to the study of composition. i hope some day to create something that will be worthy the high aim i have before me." viii bertha fiering tapper mastering pianistic problems if environment and atmosphere are inspirational aids to piano teaching and playing, the students of mrs. thomas tapper have the incentives of both in their lesson hours. her apartments on the drive have the glory of sunlight all the long afternoons. outside the hudson shimmers in blue and gold; indoors all is harmonious and home-like. in the large music-room, facing the river, two grand pianos stand side by side; there are many portraits and mementoes of the great in music; fresh flowers, books--everything to uplift thought; while in the midst of it all is mrs. tapper herself, the serious, high-minded, inspiring teacher; the "mother confessor" to a large number of young artists and teachers. "music study means so much more than merely exercising the fingers," she said; "the student should have a good all-round education. when young people come to me for instruction, i ask what they are doing in school. if they say they have left school in order to devote their whole time to the piano, i say, 'go back to your school, and come to me later, when you have finished your school course.' it is true that in rare cases it may be advisable for the student to leave school, but he should then pursue general or special studies at home. i often wish the music student's education in this country could be arranged as it is in at least one of the great music schools in russia. there the mornings are given to music, while general studies are taken up later in the day. it is really a serious problem, here in america, this fitting in music with other studies. both public and private schools try to cover so much ground that there is very little time left for music or anything else. the music pupil also needs to know musical literature, history and biography, to be familiar with the lives and writings of the great composers. take the letters and literary articles of robert schumann, for instance. how interesting and inspiring they are! "in regard to methods in piano study my principles are based wholly upon my observations of leschetizky's work with me personally, or with others. what i know he has taught me; what i have achieved i owe to him. my first eight weeks in vienna were spent in learning, first, to control position and condition of hands and arms according to the law of balance; secondly, to direct each motion with the utmost accuracy and speed. to accomplish this i began with the most elementary exercises in five-finger position, using one finger at a time. then came the principles of the scale, arpeggios, chords and octaves. all these things were continued until every principle was mastered. i practised at first an hour a day, then increased the amount as my hands grew stronger and the number of exercises increased. "next came the study of tone production in various forms, a good quality invariably being the result of a free condition of the arm combined with strength of fingers and hands. "the leschetizky principles seem to me the most perfect and correct in every particular. yes, there are several books of the method, by different authors, but i teach the principles without a book. the principles themselves are the essential things. i aim to build up the hand, to make it strong and dependable in every part, to fill out the weak places and equalize it. that this may be thoroughly and successfully accomplished, i require that nothing but technical exercises be used for the first nine, ten, or twelve weeks. we begin with the simplest exercises, one finger at a time, then two, three and so on through the hand. i believe in thus devoting all the practise time to technic, for a certain period, so that the mind is free to master the principles, undisturbed by piece playing. when the principles have been assimilated, the attention can then be directed to the study of music itself. if any weak places appear in the hand from time to time, they can be easily corrected. "if a pupil comes to me who has played a great deal but with no idea of the principles of piano playing, who does not know how to handle herself or the keyboard, it is absolutely necessary to stop everything and get ready to play. if you attempt even a simple sonata with no legato touch, no idea of chord or scale playing, you can not make the piece sound like anything. it is like a painter trying to paint without brushes, or an artist attempting to make a pen and ink drawing with a blunt lead pencil; to do good work you must have the tools to work with. "for application of all principles, the studies of czerny, op. 299, 740, and others, offer unequaled opportunity. they are simple, direct, and give the student a chance for undivided attention to every position taken and to every motion made. "what happens afterward is altogether according to the individual characteristics of the student. how to recognize these and deal with them to the best advantage is the interesting task of my great master (and those who try to follow in his steps)--the man of keenest intelligence, of profound learning and experience. to learn this lesson from him has been my greatest aim, and to see him at work, as it has been my privilege to do for several summers, has been of the greatest influence and inspiration in my own work. "my chief endeavor is to create a desire for good musicianship. to this end i insist upon the study of theory, harmony, ear-training and analysis. in the piano lessons i do not have sufficient time to teach these things. i have assistant teachers who help me with these subjects and also with the technical training. once a month during the season, my assistant teachers bring their pupils to play for me, and we have a class in piano teaching. there are sometimes eighteen or twenty students who come to a class. i can in this way supervise all the work done, and keep in touch with my teachers, their work, and with all the students. "on the first saturday of the month i have my own pupils here for a class; they play for me and for each other. everything is played from memory, not a printed note is used. students tell me it is very difficult to play here, where all listen so intently. especially is it difficult the first time a student plays in class, to keep the mind wholly on what he is doing, with sufficient concentration. later on, at the end of the season, it comes easier. "this idea of separating the technical work at the outset from the study of music itself, secures, in my opinion, the most perfect foundation, and later on the best results. it is sometimes wonderful how, with proper training, the hand will improve and develop in a comparatively short time. i often marvel at it myself." the writer had the privilege of being one of the guests at the last audition of the season. eight or nine young artists played a long and difficult program. among the numbers were a beethoven sonata, entire; chopin's ballade in a flat major; cesar franck, prelude, fugue and variations; a mozart fantaisie; grieg concerto, first movement; weber's concertstück, and chopin's scherzo in e. the recital was most instructive from an educational point of view. all the players had repose and concentration, and there were no noticeable slips, though every piece was played from memory. hands were well arched at the knuckles, fingers curved--with adequate action at the knuckle joint; wrists in normal position, and extremely loose; the whole arm swung from the shoulder and poised over the keys, thus adjusting itself to every requirement of the composition. every note had its amount of hand or arm weight. the tone quality was full and singing. these points were exemplified even in the playing of the youngest pupils. furthermore they had an intelligent grasp of the meaning of the music they played, and brought it out with conviction, power, and brilliancy. ix carl m. roeder problems of piano teachers "the progressive teacher's method must be one of accretion," said carl roeder, when interviewed between lesson hours in his delightful studio in carnegie hall. "he gains ideas from many methods and sources, and these he assimilates and makes practical for his work. at the same time he must originate and work out things for himself. this has been my experience. "i was something of a wonder child, and at an early age developed considerable facility and brilliancy. after knocking about as a pupil of various private teachers and conservatories, i became, while quite a young lad, the pupil of de konstki, then a lion of the day." the speaker joined in the laugh his remark called up, which brought to mind the chevalier's famous battle-horse, "the awakening of the lion." "de konstki's style was very brilliant and i endeavored to imitate him in this respect. i did quite a little concert work at that time. realizing, however, that a pianist's income must be rather precarious, i decided to teach. in those youthful days i had the idea that the teacher of the piano had an easy life. i remembered one of my professors, a man of considerable reputation, who took the duties of his profession very lightly. his method of giving a lesson was to place the music upon the piano, start the pupil going, then retire to a comfortable couch, light his pipe and smoke at ease, troubling himself little about the pupil's doings, except occasionally to call out 'falsch!' "so i, too, began to teach the piano. but i soon discovered that teaching was something quite different from what i had imagined it to be, and that it was something i knew very little about. i now set myself to learn how to teach--how to help those pupils who came to me. "one of my first discoveries was that most of the pupils were afflicted with stiff wrists and arms, and that this stiffness must be remedied. my own playing had always been free, due to one of my early teachers having thoroughly inculcated the principle of 'weight,' so often acclaimed in these days as a modern discovery. but how to bring about this condition in others was a great problem. i studied the mason method, and found many helpful, illuminating ideas in regard to relaxation and devitalization. i had some lessons with s.b. mills, and later did considerable valuable work with paolo gallico, who opened up to me the great storehouse of musical treasure, and revealed to me among other things the spiritual technic of the pianist's art. subsequently i investigated the virgil and leschetizky methods. mr. virgil has done some remarkable things in the way of organizing and systematizing technical requirements, and for this we owe him much. such analyses had not before been made with anything like the care and minuteness, and his work has been of the greatest benefit to the profession. my subsequent studies with harold bauer revealed him to be a deep musical thinker and a remarkable teacher of the meaning of music itself. "in my teaching i follow many of the ideas of leschetizky, modified and worked out in the manner which i have found most useful to my own technic and to that of my pupils. i have formulated a method of my own, based on the principles which form a dependable foundation to build the future structure upon. each pupil at the outset is furnished with a blank book, in which are written the exercises thus developed as adapted to individual requirements. foundational exercises "we begin with table work. i use about ten different exercises which embody, as it were, in a nutshell, the principles of piano playing. the hand is first formed in an arched position, with curved fingers, and solidified. the thumb has to be taught to move properly, for many people have never learned to control it at all. "with the hand in firm, solid position, and the arm hanging freely from the shoulder, i begin to use combined arm and wrist movements, aiming to get the weight of the arm as well as its energy at the complete disposal of the finger tip. each finger in turn is held firmly in a curved position and played with a rotary movement of arm and wrist. when this can be done we next learn hand action at the wrist from which results the staccato touch. in this form of hand staccato there is an element of percussion, as you see, but this element gives directness and precision to the staccato touch, which in my opinion are necessary. after this we come to finger action itself. this principle is taken up thoroughly, first with one finger, then with two, three, four, and five--in all possible combinations. in this way we come down from the large free-arm movements to the smaller finger movements; from the 'general to the particular,' instead of working from the smaller to the larger. i find it most necessary to establish relaxation first, then strengthen and build up the hand, before finger action to any extent is used. when these foundational points have been acquired, the trill, scales, arpeggios, chords, octaves and double notes follow in due course. at the same time the rhythmic sense is developed, all varieties of touch and dynamics introduced, and harmonic and structural analysis dwelt upon. use of studies "above the third or fourth grade i make frequent use of studies, selecting them from various books. duvernoy, op. 120; berens, op. 61; czerny, op. 740 i find far more interesting than the threadbare 299. heller is indispensable, so melodious and musical. arthur foote's studies, op. 27, are very useful; also macdowell's, op. 39 and 46. sometimes i use a few of cramer's and the clementi 'gradus,' though these seem rather old-fashioned now. "for more advanced pupils i find harberbier, op. 53 especially applicable; there is beautiful work in them. kessler, op. 20, and the moszkowski studies, op. 72, have splendid material for the advanced player, and prepare for henselt, rubinstein, chopin and liszt études. i find that studies are valuable for application of technical principles, for reacting purposes, and for the cultivation of all the refinements of playing. some teachers believe in applying the technic directly to pieces, and use almost no studies; but i think a study is often more valuable than a piece, because a definite technical principle is treated in every kind of way. though i do not require studies to be memorized, they must be played with all the finish of a piece, if the pupil is to derive the maximum of benefit from them. books that are helpful "as aids to my studies in the art of teaching, several books have been most helpful. among these are two volumes by dr. herman h. home, _the philosophy of education_, and _the psychology of education_. another book, from which i have profited much is william james' _talks to teachers on psychology_. every teacher should possess it. "you ask what method i pursue with new pupils who have played a great deal of music but with little idea of correct principles of piano study. let us take, for instance, one who has had lessons for years but is in ignorance of first principles. arms and wrists are stiff, hands and fingers held in cramped position; no freedom anywhere. my first move is to have the pupil stand and learn to relax arms, shoulders and body; then learn to breathe. but relaxation, even at first, is not the only thing; after devitalization comes organization, firmness and solidity--in the right places. it must be understood at the very beginning that piano playing is far more than sitting before the instrument working the fingers six or seven hours a day. the mechanical side is only preliminary. some one has said that the factors in playing are a trinity of h's--head, hand and heart. i try at once to awaken thought, to give a wider outlook, to show that piano playing is the expression, through the medium of tone, of all that the poet, painter and philosopher are endeavoring to show through other means: to this end i endeavor to stimulate interest in the wonders of the visible universe, the intellectual achievements of men and the deep things of spiritual discernment. in regard to interpretation "on this subject i think we should avoid pedantry; not to say to the pupil, you must play this piece a certain way; but rather say, i see or feel it in this way, and give the reasons underlying the conception. i believe the successful teacher should be a pianist. he should understand every point and be able to _do_ the thing, else how can he really show the manner of the doing? many of the _nuances_, subtleties of color and phrase, effects of charm or of bravura, cannot be explained; they must be illustrated. and furthermore, only he who has been over the road can be a safe or sympathetic guide. tolstoi realized he could not be of service to the people he would uplift unless he lived among them, shared their trials and experienced their needs. the time has gone by when the musician and composer was considered a sort of freak, knowing music and nothing else. we know the great composers were men of the highest intelligence and learning, men whose aim was to work out their genius to the utmost perfection. nothing less than the highest would satisfy them. as george eliot said, 'genius is the capacity for taking infinite pains.' think of the care beethoven took with every phrase, how many times he did it over, never leaving it till he was satisfied." in speaking of the great european teachers mr. roeder continued: "we hear much of the leschetizky method; but with that master technic is quite a secondary matter over which, when once the principles are mastered, he troubles himself but little. it is the conception of the work as a whole which concerns him, how to project it, so to say, most effectively to an audience. he brings into prominence now this part, now that, accenting here, slightly exaggerating there, in order to make the picture more vivid to the listener. harold bauer is another illuminating master for those who have a technical equipment adequate to the performance of great works of piano literature. some go to him who are not ready for what he has to give, but to those who can direct attention to the meaning of the music, he is a wonderful inspirational force. first he will point out a phrase here, another there, and so on through the piece, showing how the same idea takes on various aspects in the composer's thought. then he shows how to gather up these different threads to form the perfect pattern which the author of the work had in mind; and finally the master teacher reaches down below the surface of form and design to the vital significance of the composition, and the disciple feels the glow and power of the revelation. "there is no gainsaying the fact that this age is superficial, and the great office of art is to cultivate that idealism which will uplift and inspire. in an important sense the teacher must be a preacher of righteousness. he knows that 'beautiful things are fashioned from clay, but it has first to pass through the fire,' and only those who can endure that scorching can hope to achieve success. question of personality "if asked to what extent a player's personality enters into the performance, my answer would be: only in so far as the performance remains true to the composer's intention. so long as personality illumines the picture and adds charm, interest, and effectiveness to it, it is to be applauded; but when it obstructs the view and calls attention to itself it should not be tolerated. it is not art; it is vanity. "yes, i teach both high finger action and pressure touch, once the principle of arm weight is thoroughly established, although i use high finger action only to develop finger independence and precision, and for passages where sharp delineation is required. i believe in freedom of body, arm and wrist, a firm, solid arched hand and set fingers. that freedom is best which insures such control of the various playing members as to enable the player to produce at will any effect of power, velocity or delicacy desired; thereby placing the entire mechanical apparatus under complete subjection to the mind, which dominates the performance. in other words, i am neither an anarchist who wants no government, namely unrestrained devitalization, nor a socialist, whose cry is for all government--that is, restriction and rigidity. in piano playing, as in all else, 'virtue is the happy mean between two vices.'" x katharine goodson an artist at home when one has frequently listened to a favorite pianist in the concert room, and has studied impersonally, so to speak, the effects of touch, tone and interpretation produced during a recital, it is a satisfaction and delight to come into personal touch with the artist in the inner circle of the home; to be able to speak face to face with one who has charmed thousands from the platform, and to discuss freely the points which impress one when listening to a public performance. [illustration: katharine goodson] it has been my recent privilege thus to come into intimate touch with the artist pair, mr. and mrs. arthur hinton, the latter being known all over the world as katharine goodson. they have a quiet, beautiful home in london--a true artist's home. one feels at once on entering and enjoying its hospitality, that here at least is one instance where two musicians have perfect harmony in the home life. mr. hinton, as is widely known, is a composer and also a violinist and pianist. the beautiful music-room, which has been added to one side of the house and leads into the garden, contains two grand pianos on its raised platform. this music-room is miss goodson's own sanctum and workroom, and here piano concertos, with orchestral accompaniment supplied on the second piano, can be studied _ad infinitum_. mr. hinton has his own studio at the top of the house. the garden music-room is lighted at one end by a great arched window, so placed that the trees of the garden are seen through its panes. it is easy to imagine one's self in some lovely sylvan retreat--which is indeed true! all the appointments of this room, and indeed of the whole house, every article of furniture and each touch of color, betoken the artistic sense for fitness and harmony. miss goodson has a keen and exquisite sense for harmony in colors as well as for color in the harmonies she brings from her instrument. "my coming tour will be the fifth i have made in america," she said. "i enjoy playing in your country immensely; the cities of new york, boston, chicago, and philadelphia are the most appreciative in the world. it is true we have masses of concerts in london, but few of them are really well attended and people are not so thoroughly acquainted with piano music as you are in america. and you are so appreciative of the best--even in the smaller cities. "i can recall a recital which i gave in a city of not more than forty thousand, in the west. the recital was arranged by a musical club; they asked for the program some time in advance, studied it up and thus knew every piece i was to play. there was an enormous audience, for people came from all the country round. i remember three little elderly ladies who greeted me after the recital; in parting they said, 'you will see us to-morrow,' i thought it over afterward and wondered what they meant, for i was to play at a place many miles from there the next night. what was my surprise to be greeted by the same ladles the following evening. 'you see, we are here; we told you we would come.' fancy taking a trip from london to edinburgh just to hear a concert! for it was a journey like that. such incidents show the enthusiasm in america for music--and for piano music. "i hope to play both the brahms and paderewski concertos in america. to me the latter is a beautiful work--the slow movement is exquisite. i have as yet scarcely done anything with the composition, for i have been on a long tour through norway, sweden, and finland. it was most inspiring to play for these people; they want me to come back to them now, but i cannot do so, nor can i go next season, but after that i shall go. i returned home greatly in need of rest. i shall now begin work in earnest, however, as summer is really the only time i have for study throughout the year. i shall have six full weeks now before we take our usual holiday in the grindelwald. on the way there we shall stop at morges and visit paderewski, and then i will go over the concerto with him and get his ideas as to interpretation. memorizing by analysis "you ask how i memorize. first i go over the work several times to get a general idea of the whole. then i analyze it, for i feel it absolutely necessary to know keys, chords, and construction. a work should be so well understood along these lines that it can be played in another key as well as in the one in which it is written. for the actual memorizing of the piece i generally do it phrase by phrase, not always 'each hand alone,' though occasionally i do this also. i remember learning the bach a minor prelude and fugue in this way. if i were now asked to play any measure or passage in any part of it i could do so; it is mine forever, never to be forgotten." asked about the different ways of teaching the leschetizky method by various teachers, miss goodson said: "as we all know, people claim to understand and teach the leschetizky principles who are not competent to do so. i do not recall, for instance, that the professor requires the tips of the fingers to form a straight line on the edge of the keys. i myself have never done this. i believe in a perfectly easy and natural position of hand at the keyboard. when this is the case the finger-tips form a curve, the middle fingers being placed a little farther in on the keys than is natural for the first and fifth. of course the hand takes an arched position and the joints nearest the tip of the fingers must be firm; there should be no wavering nor giving in there. the whole arm, of course, is relaxed, and swings easily from the shoulder. a piano hand "i have, as you say, a good hand for the piano; much depends on that; i have always had a good deal of what is called a natural technic. thus when i am obliged to forego practising i do not lose my facility; an hour's work puts the hand in condition again. what do i do to accomplish this? different things. first some finger movements, perhaps with fingers in an extended chord position; then some scales and arpeggios; then a chopin étude, and so on. when practising regularly, i do not generally work at the piano more than four hours a day; it seems to me that amount is sufficient, if used with absolute concentration." later we adjourned to the pretty garden back of the music-room, and here we were joined by a beautiful gray angora cat, the pet and pride of his mistress, and a very important personage indeed. he has a trick of climbing to miss goodson's shoulder, from which point of vantage he surveys the world about him with all the complaisance of which an animal of such high degree is capable. xi mark hambourg form, technic, and expression [illustration: mark hambourg] in one of the most quiet, secluded quarters of london can be found the home of the russian pianist, mark hambourg. mr. hambourg lives on a terrace, "far from the madding crowd," and difficult enough of access to keep mere curiosity seekers at a distance. one can scarcely picture to one's self, without an actual sight of them, the quaint charm of these short passages or streets, usually termed "terraces," or "gardens." this particular terrace looks out on a restful green park, where luxuriant trees make long shadows on the sunlit turf. the house is large and comfortable--built over a hundred years ago; its rooms are spacious, and the drawing-room and library, which lead one into the other, form a fine music salon. surely, amid such surroundings, with priceless pictures and _objets d'art_ all about, with exquisite colors, with space and quiet, an artist must find an ideal spot for both work and play. i expressed this thought to mr. hambourg when he entered; then we soon fell to discussing the necessary equipment of the teacher and pianist. "i agree with you," he said, "that it is the beginning of piano study which is the most difficult of all; this is where the teacher has such great responsibility and where so many teachers are so incompetent. perhaps there are more poor teachers for the piano than for the voice. the organs of voice production cannot be seen, they can only be guessed at; so there may be a little more excuse for the vocal teacher; but for the piano we have the keys and the fingers. it should not therefore be such a very difficult thing to learn to play intelligently and correctly! yet few seem to have got hold of the right principles or know how to impart them." "i have heard a number of the young pianists here," i remarked, "and they all play with very little finger action--with fingers close to the keys. do you advocate this?" low hand position "do not forget that for centuries england has been a country of organists; without doubt organ playing has had some effect on the piano touch. some schools of piano playing advise lifting the fingers high above the keys, with a view to producing greater power; but i think the tone thus produced is often of a somewhat harsh and disagreeable quality. then, too, high lifting interferes with smoothness and velocity. for myself i advocate keeping the fingers close to the keyboard, and pressing the keys, which gives the tone a warmer and more elastic quality." "a point in hand position i should like to ask you about. some teachers advise placing the finger-tips close to the edge of the keys, forming a straight line with them; it seems to me such a position is forced and unnatural." mr. hambourg smiled assent. "i do not advocate anything forced and unnatural," he answered. "so many people think that a beautiful touch is 'born, not made,' but i do not agree with them. one can acquire, i am sure, a fine piano touch with the proper study. the principal requirement is, first of all, a loose wrist. this point seems simple enough, but it is a point not sufficiently considered nor understood. no matter how much the player may _feel_ the meaning of the music, he cannot express this meaning with stiff wrists and arms. some people have a natural flexibility, and to such the securing of a musical tone presents far less difficulty; but with time, patience, and thought, i fully believe all can arrive at this goal. amount of practise "in regard to practise i do not think it wise for the aspiring pianist to spend such a great amount of time at the piano. four hours of concentrated work daily seems to me sufficient. of course it is the quality of practise that counts. the old saying, 'practise makes perfect,' does not mean constant repetition merely, but constant thinking and listening. i advise students to stop after playing a passage several times, and think over what the notes mean. this pause will rest ears and hands; in a few moments work can be resumed with fresh vigor. "i have been so frequently asked to write on the subject of technic that i have done so in a few articles which have been printed in a small booklet. from these you may see what my ideas are on these points. i do very little teaching myself--just a few talented pupils; they must be something out of the ordinary. you see, i do not live in london continuously; i am here only about four months of the year; the rest of the time is spent traveling all over the world. only that small part of the year when i am stationary can i do any solid work. here it is generally quiet enough: the zoological garden is not far away, however, and sometimes i have the roaring of the lions as an accompaniment to my piano. "i am always increasing my repertoire, though i find the public does not care for new things; it prefers the old. it may listen to the new if forced to, but it will not attend a recital unless various familiar things are on the program. "i have made several tours in america. the rush of travel from place to place over there, is fatiguing, but i feel that your people are very appreciative. you demand the best, and concert giving in america is so costly that a manager can afford to exploit only the highest artists. here in london, where the expense is only about two hundred dollars, say, to get up a recital, almost any one can scrape together that sum and bring himself or herself before the public. in america the outlay is four or five times greater. no wonder that only a very good artist can take the risk." on leaving, mr. hambourg took us to another room, where he showed us with much satisfaction, a very valuable painting of the old italian school, by ghirlandajo, of which he is very fond. xii tobias matthay watching the artist teacher at work one of the first things accomplished after my arrival in london was to seek out tobias matthay, the composer and teacher, for an echo of his fame had reached me across the water. matthay has done much to make the principles of piano technic so clear and simple that even a child can understand them. if he has stated facts in a way which seems to some revolutionary it is because these facts are seldom understood by the rank and file of piano teachers. the work he has done has compelled attention and admiration; his ideas are now accepted as undeniable truths by those who at first repudiated them. the writings of mr. matthay will doubtless be better known in america a little later on than they are at present. they consist in part of an exhaustive work on _the act of touch in all its diversity; first principles of piano playing; relaxation studies; the child's first steps in piano playing; the principles of fingering and laws of pedaling; forearm rotation principle;_ and, in press, _the principles of teaching interpretation_. these very titles are inspiring and suggestive, and show matthay to be a deep thinker along educational lines. [illustration: cordially yours, tobias matthay] matthay's activities are enormous. he is professor of advanced piano playing at the royal academy of music; also founder and head of his own school of piano playing. so occupied early and late is he, that it is almost impossible to get a word with him. i was fortunate enough, however, to obtain an hour's audience, and also permission to attend various private classes at the royal academy, and hear a number of pupils in recital. in appearance matthay is a striking personality. his head and features recall pictures of robert louis stevenson. his tall, muscular form has the stoop of the scholar; and little wonder when one remembers he must sit in his chair at work day in and day out. his somewhat brusk manner melts into kind amiability when discussing the topics in which he is vitally interested. in his intercourse with students he is ever kind, sympathetic and encouraging. they, on their part, treat him with profound respect. matthay believes, and rightly, that the beginning pupil should learn essentials of note values, rhythm, time, ear-training and so on, before attempting to play anything at the piano. when first taken to the instrument, its mechanism is carefully explained to the learner, and what he must do to make a really musical tone. he says _(child's first steps)_: "before you take the very first step in tone production, be sure to understand that you must never touch the piano without trying to make music. it is only too easy to sound notes without making music at all. to make music we must make all the sounds mean something, just as it is no use to pretend to speak unless the sounds we make with our lips mean something, that is unless they form reasoned phrases and sentences." here nothing is left vague. matthay shows clearly how all musical form and shape imply movement and progression: the movement of a phrase toward its cadence; the movement of a group of notes toward a beat or pulse ahead, or the movement of a whole piece toward its climax, etc. this original view of his regarding form, which he has advocated for the last twenty years, is now being accepted generally by the more up-to-date of the english theorists and teachers. in regard to key mechanism and what must be done to produce all varieties of touch and tone, matthay has made exhaustive studies. he says (_first principles of piano playing_): "the two chief rules of technic, as regards the key, are, therefore: always feel how much the key resists you: feel how much the key _wants_ for every note. second, always listen for the moment each sound begins, so that you may learn to direct your effort to the sound only, and not to the key bed. you must never hit a key down, nor hit _at_ it. the finger-tip may fall on the key, and in gently reaching the key you may follow up such fall by acting against the key. this action against the key must be for the sole purpose of making it move--in one of the many ways which each give us quite a different kind of sound. and you must always direct such action to the point in key descent where the sound begins." i quote also this little summary from the same work: "(a) it is only by making the hammer-end of the key move that you can make a sound. (b) the swifter the movement the louder the sound. (c) the more gradual this swiftness is obtained the more beautiful the quality of sound. (d) for brilliant tone you may hit the string by means of the key, but do not, by mistake, hit the key instead. (e) you must 'aim' the key to the _beginning_ of each sound, because the hammer falls off the string as you hear that beginning, and it is too late then to influence the sound except its continuance. (f) it is wrong to squeeze the key beds, because it prevents tone, impairs musical result, impedes agility, and is, besides, fatiguing. (g) you must feel the 'giving way point' of the key, so that you may be able to tell how much force is required for each note. never, therefore, really hit the keys." mr. matthay as minutely gives directions as to the muscular problems of touch and technique. for instance, he explains how all varieties of tone, good and bad, are caused, all inflections of duration, and the laws which govern the attainment of agility and ease of technique; and also explains the nature of incorrect muscular actions which prevent the attainment of all these things. he shows where the released arm weight should be applied, and again, where it should be eliminated; makes clear the two opposite forms of technic implied by "flat" and "bent" finger actions, and he goes exhaustively into the little-understood question of forearm rotary exertions, the correct application of which he proves to be necessary for every note we play. in speaking of methods in piano teaching, mr. matthay said to me: "i can say i have no method _of playing_, and moreover i have not much faith in people who have. my teachings merely show how all playing, good or bad, is accomplished. there are certain principles, however, which every player should know, but which, i am sorry to say, are as yet scarcely apprehended even by the best teachers. the great pianists have experimented till they have hit upon effects which they can repeat if all conditions are favorable, and they are in the mood. as a rule they do not know the laws underlying these effects. you may ask the greatest pianists, for example, how to play octaves. 'oh, i play them thus'--illustrating. just what to do to attain this result they cannot explain. in my own case i have done much experimenting, but always with the view to discovering _how_ things are done--the facts and laws governing actual tone production and interpretation. i made a study of rubinstein's playing, for i found he played a great deal better than i did. so i discovered many things in listening to him, which he perhaps could not have explained to me. these facts are incontrovertible and i have brought many of my colleagues to see the truth of them. more than this, i have brought many even of my older colleagues who had a life-time of wrong mental habits to impede them, to realize the truth of my teachings. "the work of a teacher should speak for itself. for my own part i never advertise, for i can point to hundreds of pupils--this is no exaggeration in the least!--who are constantly before the public, as concert pianists and successful teachers. "if there is one thing that rouses me deeply, it is the incompetence of so many teachers of piano. they say to the pupil: 'you play badly, you must play better'; but they do not tell the pupil _how_ to play better. they give doses of études, sonatas and pieces, yet never get at the heart of the matter at all. it is even worse than the fake singing teachers; i feel like saying it is damnable!" it was my privilege to be present at some of mr. matthay's private lessons, given at the royal academy. several young men were to try for one of the medals, and were playing the same piece, one of the strauss-tausig valse caprices. matthay listens to a complete performance of the work in hand, then turns back to the beginning and goes over it again for corrections and suggestions. he enters into it with absolute devotion, directing with movements of head and hands as a conductor might direct an orchestra; sometimes he dashes down a chord in the treble to urge more force; at other times lays a restraining hand on the player's arm, where the tone should be softer. his blue pencil is often busy adding phrasing marks. in the pauses he talks over with the pupil the character of the piece, and the effects he thinks should be made. in short his lessons are most helpful and illuminating. i also had the opportunity to attend a pupils' "practise concert," and here the results attained were little short of marvelous. small children, both boys and girls, played difficult pieces, like the grieg variations for two pianos, the weber _invitation to the dance_, and works by chopin and liszt, with accuracy and fluency. almost every selection was played from memory. the tone was always musical and often of much power, and the pupils seemed thoroughly to understand what they were doing and the meaning of the music. they certainly exemplified the professor's maxim: "never touch the piano without trying to make music." * * * * * not long afterward i received a copy of the new book, which had just come from the press. its comprehensive title is _musical interpretation, its laws and principles, and their application in teaching and performing_. the material was first presented in the form of lectures; on repeated requests it has been issued in book form. the author at the outset claims no attempt to treat such a complex problem exhaustively; he has, however, selected the following seven points for elucidation: 1. the difference between practise and strumming. 2. the difference between teaching and cramming. 3. how one's mind can be brought to bear on one's work. 4. correct ideas of time and shape. 5. elements of rubato and its application. 6. elements of duration and pedaling and their application. 7. some details as to the application of the element of tone-variety. such themes must cause the thoughtful reader to pause and think. they are treated with illuminating originality. the great aim of the teacher must ever be to awaken thought along correct lines; the pupil must be assisted to concentrate his thought on what he is doing: to constantly think and listen. teaching does not consist merely in pointing out faults; the teacher must make clear the _cause_ of each fault and the way to correct it. that section of the book devoted to the element of rubato, is illustrated with many examples from well-known compositions, by which the principle is explained. he shows how frequently this principle is misunderstood by the inexperienced, who seem to think that rubato means breaking the time; whereas true rubato is the _bending_ of the time, but not _breaking_ it. if we give extra time to certain notes, we must take some time from other notes, in order to even things up. the subject of pedaling is aptly explained by means of numerous illustrations. the author deplores the misuse of the damper pedal, which can be made to ruin all the care and effort bestowed on phrasing and tonal effects by the fingers. the fault can, in most cases, be traced to inattention to the sounds coming from the piano. there are quotable paragraphs on every page, which in their sincerity and earnestness, their originality of expression, stamp themselves on the reader's imagination. every teacher who is serious in his work and has the best interests of his pupils at heart, should read and ponder these pages. xiii harold bauer the question of piano tone buried deep in the heart of old paris, in one of the narrow, busy thoroughfares of the city, stands the ancient house in which the master pianist, harold bauer, has made a home. one who is unfamiliar with paris would never imagine that behind those rows of uninviting buildings lining the noisy, commercial street, there lived people of refined and artistic tastes. all the entrances to the buildings look very much alike--they seem to be mere slits in the walls. i stopped before one of the openings, entered and crossed a paved courtyard, climbed a winding stone stairway, rang at a plain wooden doorway, and was ushered into the artist's abode. once within, i hardly dared to speak, lest what i saw might vanish away, as with the wave of a fairy's wand. was i not a moment before down in that dusty, squalid street, and here i am now in a beautiful room whose appointments are all of quiet elegance--costly but in exquisite taste, and where absolute peace and quiet reign. the wide windows open upon a lovely green garden, which adds the final touch of restful repose to the whole picture. mr. bauer was giving a lesson in the music salon beyond, from which issued, now and again, echoes of well-beloved themes from a chopin sonata. when the lesson was over he came out to me. "yes, this is one of the old houses, of the sort that are fast passing away in paris," he said, answering my remark; "there are comparatively few of them left. this building is doubtless at least three hundred years old. in this quarter of the city--in the rue de bac, for instance--you may find old, forbidding looking buildings, that within are magnificent--perfect palaces; at the back of them, perhaps, will be a splendid garden; but the whole thing is so hidden away that even the very existence of such grandeur and beauty would never be suspected from without." he then led the way to the music-room, where we had an hour's talk. [illustration: harold bauer] "i was thinking as i drove down here," i began, "what the trend of our talk might be, for you have already spoken on so many subjects for publication. it occurred to me to ask how you yourself secure a beautiful tone on the piano, and how you teach others to make it?" mr. bauer thought an instant. "i am not sure that i do make it; in fact i do not believe in a single beautiful tone on the piano. tone on the piano can only be beautiful in the right place--that is, in relation to other tones. you or i, or the man in the street, who knows nothing about music, may each touch a piano key, and that key will sound the same, whoever moves it, from the nature of the instrument. a beautiful tone may result when two or more notes are played successively, through their _difference of intensity_, which gives variety. a straight, even tone is monotonous--a dead tone. variety is life. we see this fact exemplified even in the speaking voice; if one speaks or reads in an even tone it is deadly monotonous. variety of tone "now the singer or the violinist can make a single tone on his instrument beautiful through variety; for it is impossible for him to make even _one_ tone which does not have shades of variation in it, however slight they may be, which render it expressive. but you cannot do this on the piano: you cannot color a single tone; but you can do this with a succession of tones, through their difference, through their relation to each other. on the other hand you may say any tone is beautiful if in the right place, no matter how harsh it may be. the singer's voice may break from emotion, or simulated emotion, in an impassioned phrase. the exact note on which it breaks may not be a beautiful one, it may even be very discordant, but we do not think of that, for we are moved by the meaning back of the tones. so on the piano there may be one note in a phrase which, if heard alone, would sound harsh and unpleasant, but in its relation to other tones it sounds beautiful, for it gives the right meaning and effect. thus it is the _relation of tones_ which results in a 'beautiful tone' on the piano. "the frequent trouble is that piano teachers and players generally do not understand their instrument. a singer understands his, a violinist, flutist or drummer knows his, but not a pianist. as he only has keys to put down and they are right under his hand, he does not bother himself further. to obviate this difficulty, for those who come to me, i have had this complete model of piano-key mechanism made. you see i can touch the key in a variety of ways, and the results will be different each time. it is necessary for the pianist to look into his instrument, learn its construction, and know what happens inside when he touches a key. "as you say, there are a great many methods of teaching the piano, but to my mind they are apt to be long, laborious, and do not reach the vital points. the pianist may arrive at these after long years of study and experimenting, but much of his time will be wasted in useless labor. "in my own case, i was forced by necessity to make headway quickly. i came to paris years ago as a violinist, but there seemed no opening for me then in that direction. there was opportunity, however, for ensemble work with a good violinist and 'cellist. so i set to work to acquire facility on the piano as quickly as possible. i consulted all the pianists i knew--and i knew quite a number--as to what to do. they told me i must spend many months on technic alone before i could hope to play respectably, but i told them i had no time for that. so i went to work to study out the effects i needed. it didn't matter to me _how_ my hand looked on the keyboard; whether my fingers were curved, flat, or stood on end. i was soon able to get my effects and to convince others that they were the effects i wanted. later on, when i had more leisure, i took more thought about the position of hand and fingers. but i am convinced that much time is spent uselessly on externals, which do not reach the heart of the matter. "for instance, players struggle for years to acquire a perfectly even scale. now i don't believe in that at all. i don't believe a scale ever should be even, either in tone or in rhythm. the beginner's untrained efforts at a scale sound like this"--the speaker illustrated at the piano with a scale in which all the tones were blurred and run into each other; then he continued, "after a year's so-called 'correct training,' his scale sounds like this"--again he illustrated, playing a succession of notes with one finger, each tone standing out by itself. "to my thinking such teaching is not only erroneous, it is positively poisonous--yes, _poisonous_!" "is it to be inferred that you do not approve of scale practise?" "oh, i advise scale playing surely, for facility in passing the thumb under and the hand over is very necessary. i do not, however, desire the even, monotonous scale, but one that is full of variety and life. "in regard to interpretation, it should be full of tonal and rhythmic modifications. briefly it may be said that expression may be exemplified in four ways: loud, soft, fast, and slow. but within these crude divisions what infinite shades and gradations may be made! then the personal equation also comes in. variety and differentiation are of supreme importance--they are life! "i go to america next season, and after that to australia; this will keep me away from my paris home for a long time to come. i should like to give you a picture to illustrate this little talk. here is a new one which was taken right here in this room, as i sat at the piano, with the strong sunlight pouring in at the big window at my left." * * * * * on a subsequent occasion, mr. bauer spoke further on some phases of his art. "as you already know i do not believe in so-called 'piano technic,' which must be practised laboriously outside of pieces. i do not believe in spending a lot of time in such practise, for i feel it is time wasted and leads nowhere. i do not believe, for instance, in the struggle to play a perfectly even scale. a scale should never be 'even,' for it must be full of variety and life. a perfectly even scale is on a dead level; it has no life; it is machine-made. the only sense in which the word 'even' may be applied to a scale is for its rhythmic quality; but even in this sense a beautiful scale has slight variations, so that it is never absolutely regular, either in tone or rhythm. "then i do not believe in taking up a new composition and working at the technical side of it first. i study it in the first place from the musical side. i see what may be the meaning of the music, what ideas it seeks to convey, what was in the composer's mind when he wrote it. in other words, i get a good general idea of the composition as a whole; when i have this i can begin to work out the details. "in this connection i was interested in reading a statement made by ruskin in his _modern painters_. the statement, which, i think, has never been refuted, is that while the great italian painters, raphael, coreggio, and the rest have left many immature and imperfect pictures and studies in color, their drawings are mature and finished, showing that they made many experiments and studies in color before they thought of making the finished black and white drawing. it seems they put the art thought first before the technical detail. this is the way i feel and the way i work. avoid restricting rules "because our ancestors were brought up to study the piano a certain way, and we--some of us--have been trained along the same rigid lines, does not mean there are no better, broader, less limited ways of reaching the goal we seek. we do not want to limit ourselves or our powers. we do not need to say: 'now i have thought out the conception of this composition to my present satisfaction; i shall always play it the same way.' how can we feel thus? it binds us at once with iron shackles. how can i play the piece twice exactly alike? i am a different man to-day from what i was yesterday, and shall be different to-morrow from what i am to-day. each day is a new world, a new life. don't you see how impossible it is to give two performances of the piece which shall be identical in every particular? it _is_ possible for a machine to make any number of repetitions which are alike, but a human, with active thought and emotion, has a broader outlook. "the question as to whether the performer must have experienced every emotion he interprets is as old as antiquity. you remember in the dialogues of plato, socrates was discussing with another sage the point as to whether an actor must have felt every emotion he portrayed in order to be a true artist. the discussion waxed warm on both sides. socrates' final argument was, if the true artist must have lived through every experience in order to portray it faithfully, then, if he had to act a death scene he would have to die first in order to picture it with adequate fidelity!" the question of velocity in speaking of velocity in piano playing and how it is to be acquired, mr. bauer continued: "i believe the quality of velocity is inherent--an integral part of one's thought. even a child, if he has this inherent quality, can play a simple figure of five notes as fast as they need to be played. people of the south--not on this side of the water--but of spain and italy, are accustomed to move quickly; they gesticulate with their hands and are full of life and energy. it is no trouble for them to think with velocity. two people will set out to walk to a given point; they may both walk fast, according to their idea of that word, but one will cover the ground much more quickly than the other. i think this idea of a time unit is again a limiting idea. there can be _no_ fixed and fast rule as to the tempo of a composition; we cannot be bound by such rules. the main thing is: do i understand the meaning and spirit of the composition, and can i make these clear to others? can i so project this piece that the picture is alive? if so, the fact as to whether it is a few shades slower or faster does not enter into the question at all. obtaining power "many players totally mistake in what power consists. they think they must exert great strength in order to acquire sufficient power. many women students have this idea; they do not realize that power comes from contrast. this is the secret of the effect of power. i do not mean to say that we must not play with all the force we have at times; we even have to pound and bang occasionally to produce the needed effects. this only proves again that a tone may be beautiful, though in itself harsh, if this harshness comes in the right time and place. "as with velocity so with power; there is _no_ fixed and infallible rule in regard to it, for that would only be another limitation to the feeling, the poetry, the emotion of the executant's _thought_. the quality and degree of power are due to contrast, and the choice of the degree to be used lies with the player's understanding of the content of the piece and his ability to bring out this content and place it in all its perfection and beauty before the listener. this is his opportunity to bring out the higher, the spiritual meaning." xiv a visit to raoul pugno training the child "an audience has been arranged for you to-day, with m. raoul pugno; he will await you at four o'clock, in his paris studio." thus wrote the courteous representative of _musical america_ in paris. it had been very difficult to make appointments with any of the famous french musicians, owing to their being otherwise engaged, or out of the city. i therefore welcomed this opportunity for meeting at least one of the great pianists of france. at the appointed hour that afternoon, we drove through the busy rue de clicy, and halted at the number which had been indicated. it proved to be one of those unpromising french apartment buildings, which present, to the passer-by, a stern façade of flat wall, broken by rows of shuttered windows, which give no hint of what may be hidden behind them. in this case we did not find the man we sought in the front portion of the building, but were directed to cross a large, square court. the house was built around this court, as was the custom in constructing the older sort of dwellings. at last we discovered the right door, which was opened by a neat housekeeper. "m. pugno is not here, he lives in the country," she said, in answer to our inquiry. (how difficult these french musicians are to find; they seem to be one and all "in the country"!) "but, madame, we have an appointment with m. pugno; will you not be good enough to see if he is not here after all?" she left us standing, but returned almost immediately with the message that m. pugno had only that moment entered his studio, to which she would conduct us. [illustration: raoul pugno] in another moment we had crossed the tiny foyer and were standing within the artist's sanctuary. at first glance one felt as though in an oriental chamber of some eastern monarch. heavy gold and silver turkish embroideries hung over doors and windows. the walls were covered with many rare paintings; rich _objets d'art_ were scattered about in profusion; an open door led out into a pretty garden, where flowers bloomed, and a fountain _dripped_ into its marble basin. a raised dais at one side of the room held a divan, over which were draperies of oriental stuffs. on this divan, as on a throne, sat the great pianist we had come to see. he made a stately and imposing figure as he sat there, with his long silvery beard and his dignified bearing. near him sat a pretty young woman, whom we soon learned was mlle. nadia boulanger, a composer and musician of brilliant attainments. "i regret that i am unable to converse with you in english, as i speak no language but my own," began m. pugno, with a courteous wave of the hand for us to be seated. "you wish to know some of my ideas on piano playing--or rather on teaching. i believe a child can begin to study the piano at a very early age, if he show any aptitude for it; indeed the sooner he begins the better, for then he will get over some of the drudgery by the time he is old enough to understand a little about music. training the child "great care must be taken with the health of the child who has some talent for music, so that he shall not overdo in his piano study. after all a robust physical condition is of the first importance, for without it one can do little. "a child in good health can begin as early as five or six years. he must be most judiciously trained from the start. as the ear is of such prime importance in music, great attention should be paid to tone study--to listening to and distinguishing the various sounds, and to singing them if possible, in solfeggio. "at the outset a good hand position must be secured, with correct finger movements. then there must be a thorough drill in scales, arpeggios, chords, and a variety of finger exercises, before any kind of pieces are taken up. the young student in early years, is expected to play various études, as well as the technic studies i have mentioned--czerny, cramer, clementi, and always bach. in my position, as member of the faculty of the conservatoire, a great many students pass before me. if i personally accept any pupils, they naturally must be talented and advanced, as i cannot give my time to the children. still it is interesting to see the child-thought develop." the conversation turned upon the charming studio with its lovely garden--where absolute quiet could be secured in spite of the noise and bustle of one of the busiest quarters of paris. the studio itself, we were told, had formerly belonged to the painter decamps, and some of the pictures and furnishings were once his. a fine portrait of pugno, life size, filling the whole space above the piano, claimed our attention. he kindly rose, as we admired the painting, and sought a photograph copy. when it was found--the last one he possessed--he presented it with his compliments. we spoke of mlle. boulanger's work in composition, a subject which seemed deeply to interest m. pugno. "yes, she is writing an opera; in fact we are writing it together; the text is from a story of d'annunzio. i will jot down the title for you." taking a paper which i held in my hand, he wrote, _"la ville morte, 4 acts de d'annuncio; musique de nadia boulanger et raoul pugno"_ "you will certainly have it performed in america, when it is finished; i will tell them so," i said. the great pianist smiled blandly and accepted the suggestion with evident satisfaction. "yes, we will come to america and see the work performed, when it is completed," he said. with many expressions of appreciation we took our leave of the oriental studio and its distinguished occupants; and, as we regained the busy, noisy rue de clicy, we said to ourselves that we had just lived through one of the most unique experiences of our stay in paris. * * * * * (the above is the last interview ever taken from this great french artist, who passed away a few months later.) * * * * * the following items concerning m. pugno's manner of teaching and personal traits, were given me by mme. germaine schnitzer, the accomplished french pianist and the master's most gifted pupil. "pugno had played the piano almost from infancy, and in early youth had taken several piano prizes. later, however, he gave much more of his time to the organ, to the seeming neglect of the former instrument. how his serious attention was reverted to the piano happened in this wise. it was announced that edward grieg, the noted norwegian, was coming to paris. pugno was one day looking over his piano concerto which had recently appeared. 'why don't you play the work for the composer when he comes?' asked a friend. 'i am no pianist,' objected pugno. 'why not?' said his friend; 'you know enough about the piano, and there are still four weeks in which to learn the concerto.' pugno took the advice, practised up the work, played it in the concert given by grieg, and scored a success. he was then thirty-nine years of age. this appearance was the beginning; other engagements and successes followed, and thus he developed into one of the great pianists of france. "pugno was a born pianist; he had a natural gift for technic, and therefore never troubled himself much about teaching technical exercises nor practising them. if the work of a pupil contained technical faults, he made no remarks nor explanations, but simply closed the music book and refused to listen any further. the pupil, of course, retired in discomfiture. he was fond of playing along with the pupil (generally with the left hand), or singing the melodies and themes, in order to give him ideas of the meaning and interpretation of the music. this gave independence to the pupils, though it often afforded them much amusement. "with advanced students pugno spoke much about music and what it could express; he translated themes and passages back into the feelings and emotions which had originated them; he showed how all emotions find their counterpart in tones. 'above all let kindness and goodness control you,' he once wrote; 'if you are filled with kindness, your tone will be beautiful!' "pugno's instruction took the form of talks on the inner meaning of the composition, and the art of interpreting it, rather than any training on the technical side; about the latter he concerned himself very little. it goes without saying that only talented pupils made progress under such a master; indeed those without talent interested him not at all. he was a wonderful teacher for those who had the insight to read between the lines, and were able to follow and absorb his artistic enthusiasms. "i have said that pugno did not concern himself about teaching the technical side of piano playing. even with me, his best pupil, he rarely touched upon technical points. i must mention a notable exception. he gave me one technical principle, expressed in a few simple exercises, which i have never heard of from any one else. the use of this principle has helped me amazingly to conquer many knotty passages. i have never given these exercises to any one; i am willing however, to jot them down for you." (the following is a brief plan of the exercises, as sketched by mme. schnitzer) [illustration: exercises] "pugno wished the thirty-seconds and sixty-fourths to be played with the utmost quickness. this idea is not alone applicable to all scales, but can be used with any difficult passage found in a composition. "pugno took a keen interest in my work, my progress and career. a few sentences culled here and there from the many letters of his which i have preserved, may serve to throw more light on the inner nature of the man: "'i have endeavored to make clear to your young mind the thoughts expressed in music, so that your understanding and your emotions also might grow; all this has created a link of gratitude in you and an affection within me. i have opened the windows for you and have given you light, and i have reaped the satisfaction of my sowing.' "'hear all the music you can--do not miss any of the pianists either good or bad; there is always something to be learned, even from a poor player--if it is only what to avoid! study great works, but even in those there are some figures and phrases which need not be brought into the foreground, lest they attain too much significance.' "(after playing with hans richter's orchestra): 'what intoxication of sound--what exhilaration and collaboration in music! what a force within us, which sways us and throbs through us, developing and expressing each sentiment and instinct! what art can be compared to music, which finds expression through this medium, called an orchestra. i feel myself greater amid the orchestra, for i have a giant to converse with. i keep pace with him, i lead him where i will--i calm him and i embrace him. we supplement each other; in a moment of authority i become his master and subdue him. the piano alone is too small for me; it does not tempt me to play it except under such conditions--with a grand orchestra!'" xv thuel burnham the "melody" and "coloratura" hand a prominent figure in the musical life of paris is thuel burnham, pianist and teacher. mr. burnham is an american, who for a number of years has made his home in paris. he has studied with the greatest masters of his instrument on both sides of the water. more than this he is a musical thinker who has worked out things for himself, amalgamating what he has found best in other methods with what he has discovered in his own experience. he has been able to simplify the whole fabric of technical material, so there is no time lost in useless labor. as a pianist mr. burnham takes high rank. technical difficulties do not exist for him. he has come to the last turning of the road; before him rise the heights of supreme spiritual mastery. a touch that is limpid, clear, and capable of many gradations of tints; splendid power in _fortissimo_; delicacy, velocity and variety are all his; together with all this he has a sympathetic insight into the mood and meaning of the composer. of late he has been giving several recitals of a semi-private nature, at which he has brought out some of the larger works in his repertoire. these recitals have taken place in his charming studios, and it was my good fortune to be present when two concertos were played, the macdowell in d minor, and the grieg in a minor. mr. burnham is a warm admirer of the works of our great american composer, and has prepared an entire program of macdowell's music, which included the tragica sonata, polonaise, and many of the shorter pieces. in a conversation with mr. burnham in regard to methods of teaching, he gave many helpful points, explaining how he had reduced technical difficulties to a minimum through the exercise of a few simple principles. principles of touch "the position and condition of the hand varies according to the character of the music, and the tone you wish to produce. if you give out a melody, you want a full, luscious tone, the weight of arm on the key, everything relaxed, and a clinging, caressing pressure of finger. here then, you have the 'melody hand,' with outstretched, flat fingers. if, on the contrary, you want rapid passage work, with clear, bright, articulate touch, the hand must stand up in well-arched, normal playing position, with fingers well rounded and good finger action. here you have the 'technical' or 'coloratura hand.' melody hand "the melody hand is weighty and 'dead,' so to speak. the touch is made with flat fingers; the ball of the finger comes in contact with the key, the whole arm, hand and fingers are relaxed--as loose as possible. you caress the keys as though you loved them, as though they were a very part of you; you cling to them as to something soft, velvety or downy--with pressure, pressure, pressure, always." (this illustration recalled to the listener's mind one of kitty cheatham's stories, the one about the little girl caressing a pet kitten. she was asked which she loved best--her mother or the kitten. "of course i love her best," was the rather hesitating answer; "but i love kitty too--and she has _fur_!") "to acquire the melody touch, i teach it with the simplest exercises, sometimes with only single tones. when the idea is apprehended, the pupil works it out in some lyric piece, like a _song without words_, by mendelssohn. "there are three touches for melody playing: first, the _down touch_, made by descending arm and hand; second, the _up touch_, made by elevating the wrist, while the finger lies upon the key; third, the _wiping-off touch_, which draws the finger off the key, with an arm and hand movement. the technical hand "the technical hand employs finger touch and finger action; the hand is held up, in military position, so to speak; the finger movements are quick, alert and exact; the hand is _alive_, not dead and heavy, as is the melody hand. the two ways of playing are quite opposite in their fundamental character, but they can be modified and blended in endless ways. "for the technical or coloratura touch, the hand is in arched position, the five fingers are well rounded and curved, their tips are on the keys, everything is rounded. when a finger is lifted, it naturally assumes a more rounded position until it descends to the same spot on the key from which it was lifted, as though there were five little imaginary black spots on the keys, showing exactly where the finger-tips should rest. the fingers are lifted cleanly and evenly and _fall_ on the keys--no hitting nor striking. i make a great distinction between the coloratura touch and the melody touch. the first is for rapid, brilliant passage work, sparkling, glittering, iridescent--what you will--but cold. it is made, as i said, with arched hand and raised finger action. melody touch expresses warmth and feeling; is from the heart. then there are the down and up arm movements, for chords, and, of course, scale and arpeggio work, with coloratura touch. i generally expect pupils who come to me to go through a short course of preparatory study with my assistant, miss madeleine prosser, who has been with me for years, and does most thorough work in this line. assimilation of principles "many pupils come to me with no very definite ideas as to touch and what they may express through it. they think if they _feel_ a passage sufficiently, they will be able to use the right touch for it. sometimes they may be able to hit upon the effect they want, but they don't know quite how they got it, nor can they repeat it another time at will. i believe the principles governing certain touches can be so thoroughly learned and assimilated that _when the player sees a certain passage, he knows at once what touch is required to express it._ a great actor illustrates what i mean--he knows how to employ his features and body to express the thought of his lines. when you go to the theatre français in paris, you know every member of the company is thoroughly trained in every phase of his art. you are aware that each actor has studied expression to such an extent that the features naturally fall into the required lines and curves whenever a certain emotion comes up for expression. so with the pianist--he should have the various touches at his finger-tips. the step beyond is to express himself, which he will do easily and naturally, when his has such a preparation as i have referred to. memorizing "i am often questioned on the subject of memorizing. some pupils think if they play the piece a sufficient number of times they will know it; then are troubled because they cannot at all times remember the notes. such players must know every note of the piece away from the piano, and be able to recite them. i have students who are able to learn their music away from the instrument, and can play it to me without having tried it on the piano. i require the piece so thoroughly memorized that if i correct a measure or phrase, the pupil can go right on from that point, without being obliged to start farther back, or at the beginning. in some cases, however, if the pupil has her own method of committing to memory, and it is successful, i have no desire to change it. octave studies "for octave study, form the hand with the 'octave grimace,'--that is with arched hand, the unemployed fingers slightly curved. in staccato touch of course use light wrist. begin with one beat in sixteenths and finish with the 'wiping off' touch. build up more and more beats in notes of the same value, always ending the passage with the same touch, as above mentioned. this exercise can be played the full length of the keyboard, in all keys, and also chromatically. it can be played in the same fashion, using four-voiced chords instead of octaves. when such an exercise can be prolonged for twenty minutes at a time, octave passages in pieces have no terrors for the pianist. for the octaves in chopin's polonaise op. 53, he would merely have to learn the notes, which can be done away from the piano; there is no need for exhaustive practise of the passage. keeping up repertoire "in order to keep repertoire in repair, one should have it arranged so that old pieces are gone over once a week. group your repertoire into sections and programs. it might be well to begin the week with chopin, playing through the whole list; after which pick out the weak places, and practise those. tuesday, take schumann, and treat him in the same way. then comes liszt, russian music, modern composers, concertos, and chamber music. in this systematic way the whole repertoire is kept up. details of practise "my mornings are given up to practise, my afternoons to teaching. of these practise hours, at least one hour is given to technic, scales, arpeggios, octaves, chords--and bach! i believe in taking one selection of bach, say a two-voiced invention, and perfecting it, playing it in various ways--transposing it into all keys and polishing it to the highest degree possible. the b flat invention is a useful one for this treatment. so with études; instead of playing _at_ so many, is it not better to perfect a few and bring them up to the highest degree of completeness? "i am very susceptible to color, anywhere, in anything--especially in pictures. music should express color. certain compositions seem to embody certain colors. as you suggest, red is certainly the motif of chopin's great polonaise, op. 53." * * * * * mr. burnham should certainly look forward to success in his visit to his native land. his fine touch and tone, sincere and musicianly style, and buoyant, genial personality will make friends for his art and himself everywhere. xvi edwin hughes some essentials of piano playing when one has read with pleasure and profit the published ideas of a musical worker and thinker, it is always an interesting experience to meet such an one personally, and have the opportunity to discuss points of special import, particularly when the meeting can take place in some ideal spot in the old world. such was my thought in visiting mr. edwin hughes, an american who has made a name and place for himself among the pianists and teachers of europe. after years of study in vienna with leschetizky, where he also acted as one of the _vorbereiters_, he has established himself in munich, where he feels he has found a true home of music and art. here, amid beautiful and artistic surroundings, he lives and works, dividing his time between teaching and concert playing. as a pianist mr. hughes has met with gratifying success in the most important cities of germany, while as a teacher he has been sought by students from almost every state in america, from maine to texas, and also from canada. what has given him special satisfaction is that during the past year a number of pupils have come to him from the conservatory here in munich. they have been greatly pleased with their progress, only regretting they had not come to him before. as to whether he uses the leschetizky method in its entirety, mr. hughes testified in the affirmative. "if you were to ask leschetizky about the 'leschetizky method,' he would probably laugh and tell you he has no method, or he would tell you his 'method' consists of only two things--firm fingers and pliable wrist. "these are the principles upon which i base the technical training of my pupils. i first establish an arched hand position, and then test the firmness of the fingers and knuckle joints by tapping them. at first the joints, particularly the nail joints, are very apt to sink in when tapped by a lead pencil; but by having the pupil continue the tapping process at home, it is not long before he acquires the feeling of conscious firmness in his fingers. "along with this exercise it is most important to begin at once with wrist exercises, as otherwise, from the effort to acquire firmness of finger, the wrist may become stiff and unwieldy. the wrist exercises consist in raising and lowering this joint, with the hand and arm supported first on each finger separately, then on two, three, four and five fingers. the wrist should not be so limp as to be incapable of resistance; but rather it should be like a fine steel spring--a 'spring-wrist,' i call it--capable of every degree of resistance or non-resistance the quality of tone demands. "high finger action is not so necessary for beginners as most piano teachers imagine. it is much easier to teach pupils to raise their fingers high, than it is to teach them the acquisition of the _legato_ touch at the piano, which is only to be attained by playing close to the keys, without raising the fingers. it is difficult to get pupils to play a perfect _legato_ who have had years of training with high finger action, something which should be taken up for _non-legato_ and _staccato_ finger work _after_ the more difficult _legato_ touch has been mastered. tone production "the subject of tone production is one which is much neglected by piano teachers. viewed from this standpoint the piano is an instrument apart from every other, except in some respects the organ. a young violinist, 'cellist or flutist has to study for some time before he can produce a tone of good musical quality on his instrument. think what the beginner on the violin has to go through before he can make a respectable middle c; but anybody, even a totally unmusical person, can play middle c on the piano without the least trouble. it is just this ease in tone production at the piano which leads to carelessness as to the _kind_ of tone produced; and so piano teachers, above all others, complain they cannot get their pupils to listen to what they are playing. pupils should be made to listen, by means of a special course in tone production, which should go hand in hand with the technical exercises used at the very beginning. otherwise they imagine they are making music when they place the printed page on the rack, and set the correct keys in motion. "there is no other instrument with which it is so easy to 'bluff' a large part of the audience; for the character of the piano is such that the general public often think it fine music if the player makes a big noise. pianists of considerable reputation often take advantage of this lack of discrimination on the part of piano-recital audiences, which, above all the other audiences, seem peculiarly incapable of judging correctly the musical value of a performance. "of the hundreds of piano recitals which take place yearly in the musical centers of europe, only a comparatively small number are of real musical interest. in many cases it seems as though the players were merely repeating something learned by rote, in an unknown language; just as though i should repeat a poem in italian. the words i might pronounce after a fashion, but the meaning of most of them would be a blank to me--so how could i make others understand them. rhythm in piano playing "the subject of rhythm is an important one, and more attention should be given it. leschetizky once said that tones and rhythm are the only things which can keep the piano alive as a solo instrument. i find in pupils who come to me so much deficiency in these two subjects, that i have organized classes in ear-training and rhythm. "if pupils have naturally a poor sense of rhythm, there is no remedy equal to practising with a metronome, using this instrument of torture daily until results are evident, when, of course, there must be a judicious slowing down in its use. the mechanical sense of rhythm, the ability to count three or four to a measure, and to group the notes of a piece correctly, can be taught to any person, if one has the patience; but for those delicate rhythmic _nuances_ required by a chopin mazurka or a viennese waltz, a specific rhythmic gift must be possessed by the pupil. "leschetizky says little to his pupils on the subject of technic; i cannot remember his having spoken a dozen words to me on the subject, during all the time i have known him. his interest, of course, lies wholly in the matter of interpretation, and technic comes into consideration only as a means and never as an end. "leschetizky likes to have the player talk to him, ask questions, do anything but sit still and not speak. 'how do i know you comprehend my meaning,' he asks, 'that you understand what i am talking about, if you say nothing?' at first a student may be silent from nervousness, but if he is bright he will soon 'catch on,' and see what is expected of him. leschetizky says sometimes: 'when the lord made the ten commandments he omitted the eleventh, "thou shalt not be stupid."' if one is not very quick, one may have a hard time with this master. "as a high school in technic i use joseffy's _school of advanced piano playing_ with my pupils. this work leads to the highest possible technical development at the keyboard, and i consider it the last word in piano technic. the hundreds of exercises have been devised with most wonderful ingenuity, and the musicianship of the author stands out on every page. the book is not a dry series of technics but has vital connection with all the big technical problems found in the literature of the piano. "in teaching, i consider a second piano an absolute necessity. there are so many things in piano playing which cannot be put into words, and the teacher must constantly illustrate. how can one teach the interpretation of a chopin nocturne, for instance, by merely talking about it. i can say, 'play loud here--soft there'; but how far do such directions go toward an artistic conception of the piece? one cannot indicate the swell of a melody, the tonal and rhythmic _nuance_ of a _groupetto_--and a thousand other things in any other way than by the living example. through imitation one learns rapidly and surely, until one reaches the point where the wings of one's own individuality begin to sprout. about memorizing "on the subject of memorizing who can lay down rules for this inexplicable mental process, which will hold good for every one? for myself, i hear the notes mentally, and know their position on the keyboard. in actual performance much must be left to finger memory, but one must actually have the notes in his mind as well as in his fingers. before a concert i go over all my program mentally, and find this an excellent method of practise when traveling from one city to another. to those who study with me i say, you must try various methods of memorizing; there is no universal way; each must find out by experiment which is most suited to his individual case. "with some pianists visual memory of the printed page plays the principal rôle in memorizing; with others visual memory of the notes on the keyboard; with still others ear-memory, or memory of the harmonic progressions. i believe in making the pupil familiar with all these different ways, so that he may find out which one is most helpful to him. "for pupils with weak hands and arms i recommend simple gymnastic exercises to be done morning and evening. physical strength is a very necessary essential for a brilliant technic; the student who would accomplish big things must possess it in order to succeed. keeping technic in repair "the only way to keep one's technic in repair is to be constantly working at it. technic is the mechanical part of music-making; to keep it in good working order one must be constantly tinkering with it, just as the engine driver tinkers with his locomotive or the chauffeur with his automobile. in the course of his technical study every intelligent pupil will recognize certain exercises which are particularly important for the mechanical well-being of his playing; from these exercises he will plan his daily schedule of technical practise. "in order to keep a large repertoire going at the same time, one must have a weekly practise plan, which will allow for a frequent repetition of the pieces. those pieces which have been recently added to one's list will require more frequent repetition, while those which have been played for a longer period may be left for an occasional brushing up. frequent playing before others, either publicly or privately, is above everything else to be recommended to the pianist, as the greatest incentive to keeping up his repertoire and toward growing in his art. american versus european conditions "in america many people who have little talent study music, intending to make it their profession; whereas in europe there is such a profusion of music and music-making that only those of more than average gifts think of making music their life work. in america we are still 'in the making,' from a musical standpoint, and although we have accomplished much there is still much to be done. it is the office of the piano teacher in america to make music study easy and interesting to pupils of moderate ability. just these conditions have brought about very excellent methods of piano and music study for american children, which have no counterpart in europe." xvii ferruccio busoni an artist at home as a man's surroundings and environment are often reflections of his character, it is always a matter of deep interest to get in touch with the surroundings of the creative or executive musician. to meet him away from the glare of the footlights, in the privacy and seclusion of the home, gives one a far more intimate knowledge of the artist as a man. knowing how difficult it often is to obtain such an opportunity, i can be the more thankful that this privilege has been granted me many times, even with those artists who hold themselves most aloof. i was told busoni was exceedingly difficult to approach, and the only way i could see him was to call at his house quite unannounced, when i might have the good fortune to find him at home and willing to see me. not wishing to take him by storm in this way, i quietly waited, until i received the following note: "while i am not fond of interviews, if you will come to tea on thursday afternoon, you will be welcome." busoni is located in a stately _wohnung_ overlooking the handsome victoria luise platz, in the newer western section of berlin. mme. busoni met us as we arrived, and conducted us to the master, who rose from a cozy nook in a corner of the library to greet us. tea was soon brought in and our little party, which included a couple of other guests, was soon chatting gaily in a mixture of french, german and english. during the sprightly chat i could not help glancing from time to time around the great library in which we sat, noting its artistic furnishings, and the rows upon rows of volumes in their costly bindings, which lined the walls. one appreciates what dr. johnson meant when he said that whenever he saw shelves filled with books he always wanted to get near enough to them to read their titles, as the choice of books indicates character. presently busoni turned to me: "i am composing a rhapsodie on american indian themes." "and where did you capture the themes?" he was asked. [illustration: ferruccio busoni] "from a very charming lady, a countrywoman of yours, miss natalie curtis. she has taken great interest in the idea and has been most helpful to me." "one of the german music papers announced that you are about to leave berlin, and have accepted an offer elsewhere--was it in spain?" "i intend leaving berlin for a time," he admitted, "and will go to bologna--perhaps you thought that was in spain," with a sly side glance and a humorous twinkle in his eyes. "my offer from bologna appears most flattering. i am appointed head of the great conservatory, but i am not obliged to live in the city, nor even to give lessons. i shall, however, go there for a time, and shall probably teach. i am to conduct six large orchestral concerts during the season, but aside from this i can be absent as much as i wish. we shall probably close up our house here and go to italy in the autumn. living is very cheap in bologna; one can rent a real palace for about $250 a year." mme. busoni now invited us to inspect other parts of the house. we passed to the adjoining room, which contains many rare old prints and paintings and quaint old furniture--"everything old," as mme. busoni said, with a smile. in this room stands a harpsichord, with its double keyboard and brilliant red case. it is not an antique but an excellent copy made by chickering. farther on is a veritable musician's den, with upright piano, and with a large desk crowded with pictures and mementoes. on the walls hang rare portraits chiefly of chopin and liszt. beyond this room came the salon, with its two grand pianos side by side. this is the master's teaching and recital room, and here are various massive pieces of richly carved furniture. mme. busoni called our attention to the elaborate chandelier in old silver, of exquisite workmanship, which, she said, had cost her a long search to find. there are several portraits here of the composer-pianist in his youth--one as a boy of twelve, a handsome lad--_bildschön_, with his curls, his soulful eyes and his big white collar. busoni soon joined us in the salon and the conversation was turned to his activities in the new field. "when you have finished the new rhapsodie you will come and play it to us in america--and in london also," he was urged. "ah, london! i am almost homesick for london; it is beautiful there. i am fond of america, too. you know i lived there for some years; my son was born there; he is an american citizen. yes, i will return, though just when i do not yet know, and then i will assuredly play the rhapsodie." xviii adele aus der ohe another artist at home another opportunity to see the home of an artist was afforded me when frl. aus der ohe invited me to visit her in her berlin home. she also lives in the newer western portion of the city, where so many other artists are located. one feels on entering the spacious rooms that this home has the true german atmosphere. adele aus der ohe, whose personality is well remembered in america, on account of her various pianistic tours, now wears her brown hair softly drawn down over her ears, in madonna fashion, a mode which becomes her vastly. "my time is divided between playing in concert, composing, and my own studies," began the artist. "i give almost no lessons, for i have not time for them. i never have more than a couple of pupils studying with me at one time; they must be both talented and eager. the amount of time i consider necessary for practise depends, of course, on quickness of comprehension. in general, i may say four, or at most five hours are quite sufficient, if used with absolute concentration. the quality of practise is the great essential. if the passage under consideration is not understood, a thousand times going over it will be only vain repetitions; therefore, understand the construction and meaning of the passage in the beginning, and then a thousand repetitions ought to make it perfect. "there is so much practise which can be done away from the instrument, by reading the notes from the printed page and thinking about them. is this understood in america? always _listen_ to your playing, to every note you make on the piano; i consider this point of the very first importance. my pupils are generally well advanced or are those who intend making music a profession. i have, however, occasionally taken a beginner. this point of listening to every note, of training the ear, should stand at the very foundation. letting the hand find itself "in regard to hand position, i endeavor not to be narrow and pedantic. if pupils play with good tone and can make reasonably good effects, i take them, at the point where they are and try to bring them forward, even if the hand position is not just what i would like. if i stop everything and let them do nothing but hand position, they will be discouraged and think they are beginning all over again. this beginning again is sometimes detrimental. to take a pupil at his present point, and carry him along was also liszt's idea. he did not like to change a hand position to which the player has grown accustomed for one which seems unnatural, and which the pianist has to work a long time to acquire. he felt that one's time could be spent to more advantage. there are so many legitimate positions, each hand is a separate study, and is apt to take the position most natural to itself. "i shall play numerous concerts and recitals in europe the coming season, but shall not be in america. i know your country well as i have made several tours and have lived there. i left it the last time under sad circumstances, as my sister, who always accompanied me, had just passed away after quite a long illness. so you see i have not much zest to return. "however i am fond of america, and admire the great progress you are making in music and art. and you have the courage of your convictions; you do not admire a musical work simply because some one else says you should, or the critics tell you to. you do not ask your neighbor's opinion before you applaud it. if you do not like it you are not afraid to say so. even when it is only ragtime that pleases you, you are not afraid to own up to it. when you learn what is better you say so. it is this honesty which leads to progressive results. you are rapidly becoming competent to judge what is best. i have found the most appreciative audiences in america." miss aus der ohe had much to relate of the woman's lyceum. the department of music was founded by aus der ohe herself. not long ago there was an exhibition of woman's work in music. women composers from all over the country sent examples of their work. our own mrs. h.a.a. beach, who has been located for some time in munich, was well represented. there are branches of this institution in other german cities. several paintings of large size and striking originality hang on the walls of the pianist's home. they all illustrate religious themes and are the work of herr aus der ohe, the pianist's only brother, who passed away at the height of his career. "yes," said the composer, "my mother, brother and sister have been taken away, since i was last in america, and now i am quite alone; but i have my art." xix eleanor spencer more light on leschetizky's ideas eleanor spencer, whose first american tour is announced for the coming season, happened to be in berlin during my visit there. i found her in her charming apartments in the schönberg section of the city, far away from the noise and bustle of traffic. her windows look out upon a wide inner court and garden, and she seems to have secured the quiet, peaceful environment so essential to an artist's development. indeed miss spencer has solved the problems of how to keep house, with all the comforts of an american home, in a great german city. "i grew so tired of living in _pensions_ that i took this little apartment over two years ago," she said, "and i like it so much better. "i have been away from america for nine years, so the foreign cities where i have lived seem almost more like home to me than my native land, to which i have only paid two short visits during those nine years. but i love america, and perhaps you can imagine how eagerly i am looking forward to my coming tour. "the first eight years of my life were spent in chicago, and then my family moved to new york. here i studied with dr. william mason. when i was about fifteen i went to europe for further study, and although i had another master at first, it was not so very long before i went to vienna, to leschetizky, for i felt the need of more thorough preparation than i had yet had. there is nothing like a firm technical foundation; it is a rock to build upon; one cannot do great things without it. i have had to labor hard for what i have attained, and am not ashamed to say so. i practise 'all my spare time,' as one of my colleagues expresses it; though, of course, if one studies with the necessary concentration one cannot practise more than five hours to advantage. [illustration: to miss brower in appreciation and pleasant remembrance of our berlin meeting ...eleanor spencer] "i thoroughly believe in practising technic outside of pieces; i have always done so and still continue to do it. this brings the hand into condition, and keeps it up to the mark, so that difficult compositions are more readily within the grasp, and the technical requirements in them are more easily met. when the hand is in fine condition, exhaustive technical practise in pieces is not necessary, and much wear and tear of nerve force is saved. in this technical practise, to which i give an hour or more daily, i use very simple exercises, but each one contains some principle of touch, movement or condition. hand over thumb and thumb under hand; different qualities of tone; staccato or clinging touch; scales, arpeggios and various other forms are used. part of the technic study period is always given to bach. "i began my studies in vienna with mme. bree, to get the preparatory foundation, but before long combined her lessons with those of the professor, and later went to him entirely." "just here i should like to mention a trifling point, yet it seems one not understood in america by those who say they are teachers of the leschetizky method. these teachers claim that the professor wishes the fingers placed on a straight line at the edge of the keys, and in some cases they place the tip of the thumb in the middle of its key, so that it extends considerably beyond the tips of the other fingers. is this the position taught by the _vorbereiters_, or favored by leschetizky?" miss spencer's laugh rang out merrily. "this is the first i have ever heard of the idea! such a position must seem very strained and unnatural. leschetizky, on the contrary, wishes everything done in the most easy, natural way. of course, at first, when one is seeking to acquire strength and firmness of hand and fingers, one must give time and thought to securing an arched hand and steady first joints of fingers. later, when these conditions have been thoroughly established, the hand can take any position required. leschetizky's hand often lies quite flat on the keys. he has a beautiful piano hand; the first joints of the fingers have so long been held firmly curved, that they always keep their position, no matter what he is doing; if he only passes his fingers through his hair, his hand is in shape. "leschetizky is indeed a wonderful teacher! the player, however, must divine how to be receptive, how to enter into the master's thought, or it may go hard with him. if he does not understand, nor grasp the master's words he may suffer terribly during the ordeal of the lessons. i have witnessed such scenes! those who are equal to the situation receive most illuminative instruction. "i trust i do not give you the impression of being so devoted to, and enthusiastic in, the work i enjoyed with my venerated master that i wish to exclude other masters and schools. i think narrowness one of the most unpleasant of traits, and one i should dread to be accused of. i see so much good in others, _their_ ways and ideas, that, to me, all things great and beautiful in art seem very closely related. memorizing "how do i memorize a composition? i first play it over a few times to become somewhat familiar with its form and shape. then i begin to analyze and study it, committing it by phrases, or _ideas_, one or two measures at a time. i do not always take each hand alone, unless very intricate; sometimes it is easier to learn both hands together. it is a good thing to study out the melodic line, to build each phrase, to work with it till you get it to suit you. then come the larger proportions, the big climaxes, which have to be thought out and prepared for in advance. a composition should be so thoroughly your own that you can play it at any time, if your hand is in condition. or, if it has been laid aside for a long time, a couple of days should bring it back. "the subject of forming a repertoire is one often overlooked or not understood. the repertoire should be comprehensive and built on broad lines. a pupil intending to make music a profession should know the literature of the piano, not only the small and unimportant works of the great composers (as is too often the case), but the big works as well. if one is well grounded in the classics at an early age, it is of great benefit afterwards. power and velocity "for gaining power, heavy chords are very beneficial; combinations of five notes that take in all the fingers are most useful. "the principle of velocity is the doing away with all unnecessary movement--raising the fingers as little as possible, and so on. but in early stages of study, and at all times for slow practise, exactness and clearness, the fingers must be raised, leschetizky _is a great believer in finger action; he holds it to be absolutely necessary for finger development_. "i have been concertizing for the last three years, and studying alone. this does not mean i have learned all the masters can teach, but only that i have come to a place where i felt i had to go alone, that i must work out what is in me. no master can teach us that; we have to find ourselves alone. "i shall probably play considerably with orchestra next season. there is a concerto by rimsky-korsakow which is quite short, only one movement. it is charming and brilliant, and i think has not yet been played in america. there is also a new work by stavenhagen for piano and orchestra, which is a novelty on the other side. i greatly enjoy playing with orchestra, but of course i shall play various recitals as well." miss spencer has appeared with the best orchestras in england and on the continent, and has everywhere received commendation for her pure, singing tone, plastic touch, and musical temperament. she is certain to have success in america, and to win hosts of friends there. xx arthur hochman how the pianist can color tone with action and emotion "a pianist, like a painter, should have an infinitude of colors on his palette," remarked arthur hochman, the young russian pianist, in a recent chat about piano playing. he should paint pictures at the keyboard, just as the artist depicts them upon the canvas. the piano is capable of a wonderful variety of tonal shading, and its keys will respond most ideally to the true musician who understands how to awaken and bring forth all this tonal beauty from the instrument. "the modern pianist is often lacking in two important essentials--phrasing and shading. inability to grasp the importance of these two points may be the cause of artistic failure. an artist should so thoroughly make his own the composition which he plays, and be so deeply imbued with its spirit, that he will know the phrasing and dynamics which best express the meaning of the piece. when he has risen to such heights, he is a law to himself in the matter of phrasing, no matter what marks may stand upon the printed page. as a rule the editing of piano music is extremely inadequate, though how can it really be otherwise? how is it possible, with a series of dots, lines, dashes and accents, to give a true idea of the interpretation of a work of musical art? it is _not_ possible; there are infinite shadings between _piano_ and _forte_--numberless varieties of touch which have not been tabulated by the schools. great editors like von bülow, busoni and d'albert have done much to make the classics clearer to the student; yet they themselves realize there are a million gradations of touch and tone, which can never be expressed by signs nor put into words. four requisites for pianists "four things are necessary for the pianist who would make an artistic success in public. they are: variety of tone color; individual and artistic phrasing; true feeling; personal magnetism. colors mean so much to me; some are so beautiful, the various shades of red, for instance; then the golden yellows, rich, warm browns, and soft liquid blues. we can make as wonderful combinations with them as ever the painters do. to me dark red speaks of something tender, heart-searching, mysterious." here mr. hochman illustrated his words at the piano with an expressive fragment full of deep feeling. "on the other hand, the shades of yellow express gaiety and brightness"; here the illustrations were all life and fire, in crisp, brilliant staccatos. other colors were just as effectively represented. "what i have just indicated at the keyboard," continued the artist, "gives a faint idea of what can be done with tone coloring, and why i feel that pianists who neglect this side of their art, or do not see this side of it, are missing just so much beauty. i could name one pianist, a great name in the world of music--a man with an absolutely flawless technic, yet whose playing to me, is dry and colorless; it gives you no ideas, nothing you can carry away: it is like water--water. another, with great variety of tonal beauty, gives me many ideas--many pictures of tone. his name is gabrilowitsch; he is for me the greatest pianist. making climaxes pianissimo "in my own playing, when i color a phrase, i do not work up to a climax and make that the loudest note, as most pianists do, but rather the soft note of the phrase; this applies to lyric playing. i will show you what i mean. here is a fragment of two measures, containing a soulful melody. i build up the crescendo, as you see, and at the highest point, which you might expect to be the loudest, you find instead that it is soft: the sharpness has been taken out of it, the thing you did not expect has happened; and so there are constant surprises, tonal surprises--tone colors not looked for. "it is generally thought that a pianist should attend many recitals and study the effects made by other pianists; i, on the contrary, feel i gain more from hearing a great singer. the human voice is the greatest of all instruments, and the player can have no more convincing lesson in tone production and tone coloring, than he can obtain from listening to a great emotional singer. the pianist should hear a great deal of opera, for there he will learn much of color, of effect, light and shade, action and emotion. we do not want cut-and-dried performances "the third requisite for the pianist, as i have said, is true feeling. i have no sympathy with dry, mechanical performance, where every effect is coldly calculated beforehand, and the player always strives to do it the same way. how can he always play the same way when he does not feel the same? if he simply seeks for uniformity where does the inspiration come in? "the true artist will never give a mechanical performance. at one time he may be in a tender, melting mood; at another in a daring or exalted one. he must be free to play as he feels, and he will be artist enough never to overstep bounds. the pianist who plays with true feeling and 'heart' can never play the same composition twice exactly alike, for he can never feel precisely the same twice. this, of course, applies more especially to public performance and playing for others. "another essential is breath control. respiration must be easy and natural, no matter how much physical strength is exerted. in _fortissimo_ and all difficult passages, the lips must be kept closed and respiration taken through the nostrils, as it always ought to be. dissection of details "yes, i do a great deal of teaching, but prefer to take only such pupils as are intelligent and advanced. with pupils i am very particular about hand position and touch. the ends of the fingers must be firm, but otherwise the hand, wrist and arm, from the shoulder, are all relaxed. in teaching a composition, i am immensely careful and particular about each note. everything is dissected and analyzed. when all is understood and mastered, it is then ready for the stage setting, the actors, the lights, and the colors!" * * * * * "i was intended for a pianist from the first. born in russia, i afterward came to berlin, studying seven or eight years with xaver scharwenka, then with d'albert, stavenhagen and others. but when one has all that can be learned from others, a man's greatest teacher is himself. i have done a great deal of concert work and recital playing in europe, and have appeared with the leading orchestras in the largest cities of america." mr. hochman has done considerable work in composition. numerous songs have been published and doubtless larger works may be expected later. xxi teresa carreño early technical training a music critic remarked, "that ever youthful and fascinating pianist, teresa carreño is with us again." i well remember how fascinated i was, as a young girl, with her playing the first time i heard it--it was so full of fire, enthusiasm, brilliancy and charm. how i longed and labored to imitate it--to be able to play like that! i not only loved her playing but her whole appearance, her gracious manner as she walked across the stage, her air of buoyancy and conscious mastery as she sat at the piano; her round white arms and wrists, and--the red sash she wore! during a recent talk with mme. carreño, i recalled the above incident, which amused her, especially the memory of the sash. [illustration: teresa carreño] "i assure you that at heart i feel no older now than in the days when i wore it," she said. the conversation then turned to questions of mastering the piano, with particular reference to the remarkable technic of the artist herself. "the fact that i began my studies at a very early age was a great advantage to me," she said. "i loved the sound of the piano, and began to pick out bits of tunes when i was little more than three. at six and a half i began to study seriously, so that when i was nine i was playing such pieces as chopin's ballade in a flat. another fact which was of the utmost advantage to me was that i had an ideal teacher in my father. he saw that i loved the piano, and decided i must be properly taught. he was passionately fond of music, and if he had not been a statesman, laboring for the good of his country, he would undoubtedly have been a great musician. he developed a wonderful system for teaching the piano, and the work he did with me i now do with my pupils. for one thing he invented a series of stretching and gymnastic exercises which are splendid; they did wonders for me, and i use them constantly in my teaching. but, like everything else, they must be done in the right way, or they are not beneficial. 580 technical exercises "my father wrote out for me a great many technical exercises; to be exact, there were 580 of them! some consisted of difficult passages from the great composers--perhaps originally written for one hand--which he would arrange for two hands, so that each hand had the same amount of work to do. thus both my hands had equal training, and i find no difference between them. these 580 exercises took just three days to go through. everything must be played in all keys, and with every possible variety of touch--legato, staccato, half-staccato, and so on; also, with all kinds of shading." (think of such a drill in pure technic, o ye teachers and students, who give little or no time to such matters outside of études and pieces!) "part of my training consisted in being shown how to criticize myself. i learned to listen, to be critical, to judge my own work; for if it was not up to the mark i must see what was the matter and correct it myself. the earlier this can be learned the better. i attribute much of my subsequent success to this ability. i still carry out this plan, for there on the piano you will find all the notes for my coming recitals, which i work over and take with me everywhere. this method of study i always try to instill into my pupils. i tell them any one can make a lot of _noise_ on the piano, but i want them, to make the piano _speak_! i can do only a certain amount for them; the rest they must do for themselves. value of transposing "another item my zealous teacher insisted upon was transposing. i absorbed this idea almost unconsciously, and hardly know when i learned to transpose, so natural did it seem to me. my father was a tactful teacher; he never commanded, but would merely say, 'you can play this in the key of c, but i doubt if you can play it in the key of d.' this doubt was the spur to fire my ambition and pride: i would show him i could play it in the key of d, or in any other key; and i did! "with all the technic exercises, i had many études also; a great deal of czerny. each étude must also be transposed, for it would never do to play an étude twice in the same key for my father. so i may say that whatever i could perform at all, i was able to play in any key. "for one year i did nothing but technic, and then i had my first piece, which was nothing less than the capriccio of mendelssohn, op. 22. so you see i had been well grounded; indeed i have been grateful all my life for the thorough foundation which was laid for me. in these days we hear of so many 'short cuts,' so many new methods, mechanical and otherwise, of studying the piano; but i fail to see that they arrive at the goal any quicker, or make any more thorough musicians than those who come by the royal road of intelligent, well-directed hard work." asked how she obtained great power with the least expenditure of physical strength, mme. carreño continued: "the secret of power lies in relaxation; or i might say, power _is_ relaxation. this word, however, is apt to be misunderstood. you tell pupils to relax, and if they do not understand how and when they get nowhere. relaxation does not mean to flop all over the piano; it means, rather, to loosen just where it is needed and nowhere else. for the heavy chords in the tschaikowsky concerto my arms are absolutely limp from the shoulder; in fact, i am not conscious i have arms. that is why i can play for hours without the slightest fatigue. it is really mental relaxation, for one has to think it; it must be in the mind first before it can be worked out in arms and hands. we have to think it and then act it. "this quality of my playing must have impressed breithaupt, for, as you perhaps know, it was after he heard me play that he wrote his famous book on 'weight touch,' which is dedicated to me. a second and revised edition of this work, by the way, is an improvement on the first. many artists and musicians have told me i have a special quality of tone; if this is true i am convinced this quality is the result of controlled relaxation." i referred to the artist's hand as being of exceptional adaptability for the piano. "yes," she answered, "and it resembles closely the hand of rubinstein. this brings to mind a little incident. as a small child, i was taken to london, and on one occasion played in the presence of rubinstein; he was delighted, took me under his wing, and introduced me all about as his musical daughter. years afterward we came to new york, and located at the old clarendon hotel, which has housed so many men of note. the first day at lunch, my aunt and i were seated at a table mostly occupied by elderly ladies, who stared at us curiously. i was a shy slip of a girl, and hardly ventured to raise my eyes after the first look around the room. beside me sat a gentleman. i glanced at his hand as it rested on the table--then i looked more closely; how much it reminded me of rubinstein's hand! my eyes traveled slowly up to the gentleman's face--it was rubinstein! he was looking at me; then he turned and embraced me, before all those observing ladles!" we spoke of berlin, the home of the pianist, and of its musical life, mentioning von bülow and klindworth. "both good friends of mine," she commented. "what a wonderful work klindworth has accomplished in his editions of beethoven and chopin! as goethe said of himself, we can say of klindworth--he has carved his own monument in this work. we should revere him for the great service he has done the pianistic world. "i always love to play in america, and each time i come i discover how much you have grown. the musical development here is wonderful. this country is very far from being filled with a mercenary and commercial spirit. if europeans think so it is because they do not know the american at home. your progress in music is a marvel! there is a great deal of idealism here, and idealism is the very heart and soul of music. "i feel the artist has such a beautiful calling--a glorious message--to educate a people to see the beauty and grandeur of his art--of the ideal!" xxii wilhelm bachaus technical problems discussed "how do i produce the effects which i obtain from the piano?" the young german artist, willielm bachaus, was comfortably seated in his spacious apartments at the ritz, new york, when this question was asked. a grand piano stood close at hand, and the pianist ran his fingers lightly over its keys from time to time, or illustrated some technical point as he talked. "in answer i would say i produce them by listening, criticizing, judging--working over the point, until i get it as i want it. then i can reproduce it at will, if i want to make just the same effect; but sometimes i want to change and try another. [illustration: wilhelm bachaus] "i am particular about the seat i use at the piano, as i sit lower than most amateurs, who in general are apt to sit too high. my piano stool has just been taken out for a few repairs, or i could show you how low it is. then i am old-fashioned enough to still believe in scales and arpeggios. some of the players of the present day seem to have no use for such things, but i find them of great importance. this does not necessarily mean that i go through the whole set of keys when i practise the scales; but i select a few at a time, and work at those. i start with ridiculously simple forms--just the hand over the thumb, and the thumb under the hand--a few movements each way, especially for arpeggios. the principle i have referred to is the difficult point; a few doses of this remedy, however, bring the hand up into order again." the pianist turned to the keyboard and illustrated the point very clearly. "as you see, i slant the hand considerably across the keys," he said, "but this oblique position is more comfortable, and the hand can accommodate itself to the intervals of the arpeggio, or to the passing of the thumb in scales. some may think i stick out the elbow too much, but i don't care for that, if by this means the scale becomes smooth and even. overhauling one's technic "i have to overhaul my technic once or twice a week, to see that everything is all right--and of course the scales and arpeggios come in for their share of criticism. i practise them in legato, staccato and in other touches, but mostly in legato, as that is somewhat more difficult and more beautiful than the others. "perhaps i have what might be called a natural technic; that is i have a natural aptitude for it, so that i could acquire it easily, and it stays with me. hofmann has that kind of natural technic; so has d'albert. of course i have to practise technic; i would not allow it to lapse; i love the piano too much to neglect any part of the work. an artist owes it to himself and the public to keep himself up in perfect condition--for he must never offer the public anything but the best. i only mean to say i do not have to work at it as laboriously as some others have to do. however, i practise technic daily, and will add that i find i can do a great deal in a short time. when on tour i try to give one hour a day to it, not more." speaking of the action of fingers, mr. bachaus continued: "why, yes, i raise my fingers whenever and wherever necessary--no more. do you know breithaupt? well, he does not approve of such technical exercises as these (illustrating); holding down some fingers and lifting others, for technical practise, but i do. as for the metronome, i approve of it to cultivate the sense of rhythm in those who are lacking in this particular sense. i sometimes use it myself, just to see the difference between the mechanical rhythm and the musical rhythm--for they are not always the same by any means. "do you know these technical exercises of brahms? i think a great deal of them, and, as you see, carry them around with me; they are excellent. "you ask me about octaves. it is true they are easy for me now, but i can remember the time when they were difficult. the only alternative is to work constantly at them. of course they are more difficult for small hands; so care must be taken not to strain nor over-tire the hand. a little at a time, in frequent doses, ought in six months to work wonders. rowing a boat is good to develop wrists for octave playing. "you ask if i can tell how i obtain power. that is a very difficult question. why does one child learn to swim almost immediately, while another cannot master it for a long time? to the first it comes naturally--he has the _knack_, so to speak. and it is just so with the quality of power at the piano. it certainly is not due to physique, nor to brute strength, else only the athlete would have sufficient power. no, it is the 'knack,' or rather it is the result of relaxation, as you suggest. "take the subject of velocity. i never work for that special thing as some do. i seldom practise with great velocity, for it interferes with clearness. i prefer to play more slowly, giving the greatest attention to clearness and good tone. by pursuing this course i find that when i need velocity i have it. "i am no pedagogue and have no desire to be one. i have no time for teaching; my own studies and concert work fill all my days. i do not think that one can both teach and play successfully. if i were teaching i should no doubt acquire the habit of analyzing and criticizing the work of others; of explaining and showing just how a thing should be done. but i am not a critic nor a teacher, so i do not always know how i produce effects. i play 'as the bird sings,' to quote an old german song. modern piano music "your macdowell has written some nice music, some pretty music; i am familiar with his concerto in d minor, some of the short pieces and the sonatas. as for modern piano concertos there are not many, it is quite true. there is the rachmaninoff, the macdowell i mentioned, the d minor of rubinstein, and the saint-saens in g minor. there is also a concerto by neitzel, which is a most interesting work; i do not recall that it has been played in america. i have played it on the other side, and i may bring it out here during my present tour. this concerto is a fine work, into which the author has put his best thought, feeling and power." a brahms concerto as i listened to the eloquent reading of the brahms second concerto, which mr. bachaus gave soon afterward with the new york symphony, i was reminded of a memorable event which occurred during my student days in berlin. it was a special concert, at which the honored guest and soloist was the great brahms himself. von bülow conducted the orchestra, and brahms played his second concerto. the hamburg master was not a virtuoso, in the present acceptance of the term: his touch on the piano was somewhat hard and dry; but he played the work with commendable dexterity, and made an imposing figure as he sat at the piano, with his grand head and his long beard. of course his performance aroused immense enthusiasm; there was no end of applause and cheering, and then came a huge laurel wreath. i mentioned this episode to mr. bachaus a few days later. "i first played the brahms concerto in vienna under hans richter; he had counseled me to study the work. the americans are beginning to admire and appreciate brahms; he ought to have a great vogue here. "in studying such a work, for piano and orchestra, i must not only know my own part but all the other parts--what each instrument is doing. i always study a concerto with the orchestral score, so that i can see it all before me." xxiii alexander lambert american and european teachers among american teachers alexander lambert takes high rank. for over twenty-five years he has held aloft the standard of sound musicianship in the art of teaching and playing. a quarter of a century of thorough, conscientious effort along these lines must have left its impress upon the whole rising generation of students and teachers in this country, and made for the progress and advancement of american art. it means much to have a native-born teacher of such high aims living and working among us; a teacher whom no flattery nor love of gain can influence nor render indifferent to the high aim ever in view. there is no escaping a sound and thorough course of study for those who come under mr. lambert's supervision. scales must be, willingly or unwillingly, the daily bread of the player; the hand must be put in good shape, the finger joints rendered firm, the arms and body supple, before pieces are thought of. technical study must continue along the whole course, hand in hand with piece playing; technic for its own sake, outside the playing of compositions. and why not? is the technic of an art ever quite finished? can it ever be laid away on the shelf and considered complete? must it not always be kept in working order? "have you not seen many changes in the aims of students, and in the conditions of piano teaching in new york, during the years you have taught here?" i asked mr. lambert, in the course of a recent conversation. "some changes, it is true, i have seen," he answered; "but i must also say that the conditions attending piano teaching in america are peculiar. we have some excellent teachers here, teachers who can hold their own anywhere, and are capable of producing finished artists. yet let a pupil go to the best teacher in this country, and the chances are that he or she is still looking forward to 'finishing' with some european artist. they are not satisfied until they have secured the foreign stamp of approval. while this is true of the advanced pianist, it is even more in evidence in the mediocre player. he, too, is dreaming of the 'superior advantages,' as he calls them, of european study. he may have no foundation to build upon--may not even be able to play a scale correctly, but still thinks he must go abroad! "you ask if i think students can obtain just as good instruction here as in europe? that is a little difficult to answer off-hand. i fully believe we have some teachers in america as able as any on the other side; in some ways they are better. for one thing they are morally better--i repeat, _morally_ better. for another they are more thorough: they take more interest in their pupils and will do more for them. when such a teacher is found, he certainly deserves the deep respect and gratitude of the american student. but alas, he seldom experiences the gratitude. after he has done everything for the pupil--fashioned him into a well-equipped artist, the student is apt to say: 'now i will go abroad for lessons with this or that famous european master!' what is the result? he may never amount to anything--may never be heard of afterward. on the other hand, i have pupils coming to me, who have been years with some of the greatest foreign masters, yet who are full of faults of all kinds, faults which it takes me years to correct. some of them come with hard touch, with tense position and condition of arms and body, with faulty pedaling, and with a lack of knowledge of some of the fundamental principles of piano playing. power without effort "how do i teach them to acquire power with little effort? relaxation is the whole secret. your arm is really quite heavy, it weighs considerable. act on this principle then: let the arms fall with their full weight on the keys, and you will have all the power you need, provided the fingers are rounded and firm. that is the other half of the secret. the finger joints must be firm, especially the third joint. it stands to reason there can be no power, no brilliancy when this joint is wavering and wobbling. "i teach arched hand position, and, for children and beginners, decided finger action; the fingers are to be raised, in the beginning, though not too high. some teachers may not teach finger action, because they say artists do not use it. but the artist, if questioned, would tell you he had to learn finger action in the beginning. there are so many stages in piano playing. the beginner must raise his fingers in order to acquire finger development and a good, clear touch. in the middle stage he has secured enough finger control to play the same passage with less action, and still perform it with sufficient clearness; while in the more finished stage the passage may be played with scarcely any perceptible motion, so thoroughly do the fingers respond to every mental requirement. "sometimes pupils come to me who do not know scales, though they are playing difficult compositions. i insist on a thorough knowledge of scales and arpeggios, and a serious study of bach. i use almost everything bach ever wrote for the piano; the two and three part inventions, french and english suites, well-tempered clavichord, and the organ preludes and fugues, arranged by liszt." xxiv fannie bloomfield zeisler the scope of piano technic each year, as mme. bloomfleld zeisler plays for us, we feel the growth of a deeper experience, a clearer insight into human nature, a broader outlook and grasp on art and life. such a mentality, ever seeking for truth and the sincerest expression of it, must continually progress, until--as now--the greatest heights are reached. mme. zeisler is no keyboard dreamer, no rhapsodist on art. she is a thoroughly practical musician, able to explain as well as demonstrate, able to talk as well as play. out of the fulness of a rich experience, out of the depth of deepest sincerity and conviction the artist speaks, as she plays, with authority and enthusiasm. [illustration: with sincerest good wishes fannie bloomfield zeisler chicago dec 30 14] "the first thing to be done for a pupil is to see that the hand is in correct position. i explain that the wrist should be about on a level with the second joint of the middle finger, when the fingers are properly rounded. the knuckles will then be somewhat elevated; in fact they will naturally take care of themselves, other points of the hand being correct. two things are of supreme importance: namely, firm finger joints and loose wrists; these must be insisted on from the very beginning. i sometimes use firm wrists in my own playing, if i wish to make a certain effect; but i can safely affirm, i think, that no one has ever seen me play with weak, bending fingers. what technic includes "piano technic includes so much; everything goes into it--arithmetic, grammar, diction, language study, poetry, history, and painting! in the first stages there are rules to be learned, just as in any other study. in school we had to learn the rules of grammar and mathematics. just such rules are applicable to musical performance. i must know the rules of versification in order to scan poetic stanzas; so i must know the laws of rhythm and meter to be able to punctuate musical phrases and periods. pupils who have long passed the stage of division and fractions do not seem able to determine the time-values of the various notes and groups of notes used in music; they do not know what must be done with triplets, dotted notes, and so on. so you see 'just technic' includes a multitude of things; it is a very wide subject. each pupil a different problem "each pupil presents a different problem as to physical formation of hand and body, intelligence and talent. those who are the most talented do not always prove the most satisfactory students. they grasp the composer's ideas quickly enough, it is true, so that sometimes in a few days, they can take up a difficult composition and clash it off with such showy effect as to blind the eyes of the superficial listener; but these students are not willing to work out the fine points of the piece and polish it artistically. neither are they willing to get right down, to the bed rock of technic and work at that seriously and thoroughly. if this course is suggested they grow restive, think they are being held back, and some times prefer to study with a more superficial teacher. the consequence is they never really amount to anything; whereas if these same players possessed perseverance along with their talent they could become great artists. i would rather have an intelligent, earnest, serious pupil, who is obedient and willing to work, than a very gifted pupil. the two seldom go together. when you find both in one person, a marvelous musician is the result, if assisted by the right sort of training. harmony study "one thing a teacher should insist upon, and that is that the pupil should study harmony. he should have a practical working knowledge of keys, chords, and progressions. there may be no need for him to study orchestration or composition, but he must know the foundation and structure of the material of music. my pupil must be familiar with the various chords of the scale and know how to analyze them, before i can make clear to him the rules of pedaling. without this knowledge, my words about the use of the pedals are as so much greek to him. he must go and learn this first, before coming to me. according to rule "experience counts for much with the teacher, but much, more with the pianist. the beginner must go according to rule, until he has thoroughly mastered the rules. he must not think because he sees a great artist holding his hands a certain way at times--turning under his unemployed fingers for octaves perhaps, or any other seeming eccentricity, that he himself is at liberty to do the same things. no, he must learn to play in a normal, safe way before attempting any tricks. what may seem eccentric to the inexperienced student may be quite a legitimate means of producing certain effects to the mature artist, who through wide experience and study knows just the effect he wants and the way to make it. the artist does many things the pupil should not attempt. the artist knows the capabilities of his own hand; his technic is, in a certain sense, individual; it should not be imitated by the learner of little or no experience. if i play a chord passage with high wrist, that i may bring out a certain effect or quality of tone at that point, the thoughtless student might be under the impression that a high wrist was habitual with me, which is not true. for this reason i do not give single lessons to any one, nor coach on single pieces. in the case of the interpretation of a piece, a student can get the ideas of it from hearing it in recital, if he can grasp and assimilate them. on interpretation "interpretation! that is a wide subject; how can it be defined? i try to arouse the imagination of the student first of all. we speak of the character of the piece, and try to arrive at some idea of its meaning. is it _largo_--then it is serious and soulful; is it _scherzo_--then it should be blithe and gay. we cannot depend on metronome tempi, for they are not reliable. those given in schumann are generally all wrong. we try to feel the rhythm of the music, the swing of it, the spirit of it. in giving out the opening theme or subject, i feel it should be made prominent, to arrest attention, to make it clear to the listener; when it appears at other times in the piece, it can be softened or varied. variety of effect we must have; but whether a passage is played with decreasing or increasing tone, whether this run is soft and the next loud, or vice versa, does not matter so much as to secure variety and individuality. i may look at it one way, another player an opposite way. one should be broad-minded enough to see the beauty of each interpretation. i do not expect my pupils to copy me or do things just as i do them. i show them how i do it, then leave them to work it out as they see it. "_pianissimo_ is one of the later things to teach. a beginner should not attempt it too soon, for then it will only result in flabbiness. a true _pianissimo_ is not the result of weakness but of strength. musical conditions in america "america has made marvelous progress in the understanding and appreciation of music; even the critics, many of them, know a great deal about music. the audiences, even in small towns, are a pleasure and delight to play to. i am asked sometimes why i attempt the last sonata of beethoven in a little town. but just such audiences listen to that work with rapt attention; they hang on every note. how are they to learn what is best in music unless we are willing to give it to them? "the trouble with america is that it does not at all realize how much it knows--how much talent is here. we are so easily tricked with a foreign name and title; our serious and talented musicians are constantly being pushed to the wall by some unknown with a name ending in _ski_. these are the people who tour america (for one season at least), who get the best places in our music schools and colleges, crowding out our native musicians. it makes me very bitter against this utterly mistaken and fallacious idea of ours. i have many talented students, who come to me from all over the country. some of them become most excellent concert artists. if i recommend them to managers or institutions, should not my word count for something? ought i not to know what my students can do, and what is required of a concert artist? but instead of their securing an engagement, with such a recommendation, a foreigner with the high-sounding name is the one invariably chosen. when i first started on my career i endeavored in every way to get a proper hearing in america. but not until i had made a name for myself in europe was i recognized here, in my own land. all honor to those who are now fighting for the musical independence of america!" a group of questions not long after the above conversation with mme. zeisler, i jotted down some questions, leading to further elucidation of her manner of teaching and playing, and sent them to her. the artist was then fully occupied with her long and arduous tours and later went to europe. my questions remained unanswered for nearly a year. when she next played in new york, she sent for me to come to her hotel. as she entered the room to greet me, she held in her hand the paper containing the questions. i expressed surprise that she had preserved the bit of paper so long. "i am very conscientious," she answered; "i have kept this ever since you sent it, and now we will talk over the topics you suggest." (1) what means do you favor for gaining power? "i can say--none. there is no necessity for using special means to acquire power; when everything is right you will have sufficient power; you cannot help having it. if you know the piece thoroughly, your fingers have acquired the necessary strength through efficient practise, so that when the time comes to make the desired effects, you have the strength to make them, provided everything is as it should be with your technic. power is a comparative term at best; one pianist may play on a larger scale than another. i am reminded of an amusing incident in this connection. my son paul, when a little fellow, was fond of boasting about his mother; i could not seem to break him of it. one day he got into an argument with another boy, who asserted that his father, an amateur pianist, could play better than paul's mother, because he 'could play louder, anyway.' i don't know whether they fought it out or not; but my boy told me about the dispute afterward. "'what do you think makes a great player?' i asked him. "'if you play soft enough and loud enough, slow enough and fast enough, and it sounds nice,' was his answer. it is the whole thing in a nutshell: and he was such a little fellow at the time! "as i said, you must have everything right with your technic, then both power and velocity will come almost unconsciously." (2) what do you do for weak finger joints? "they must be made strong at once. when a new pupil comes to me the first thing we do is to get the hand into correct position, and the fingers rounded and firm. if the pupil is intelligent and quick, this can be accomplished in a few weeks; sometimes it takes several months. but it must be done. of what use is it to attempt a beethoven sonata when the fingers are so weak that they cave in. the fingers must keep their rounded position and be strong enough to bear up under the weight you put upon them. as you say, this work can be done at a table, but i generally prefer the keyboard; wood is so unresponsive. "i think, for this work, children are easier to handle than their elders; they have no faults to correct; they like to hold their hands well and make them look pretty. they ought to have a keyboard adapted to their little delicate muscles, with action much less heavy than two ounces, the minimum weight of the clavier. as they grow and gain strength, the weight can be increased. if they should attempt to use my instrument with its heavy action, they would lame the hand in a few moments or their little fingers could not stand up under the weight." (3) do you approve of finger action? "most emphatically. finger action is an absolute essential in playing the piano. we must have finger development. as you say, we can never make the fingers equal in themselves; we might practise five hundred years without rendering the fourth finger as strong as the thumb. rather let us learn to so adjust the weight and pressure of each finger, that all will sound equal, whenever we wish them to do so. i tell my pupils that in regard to strength, their fingers are in this relation to each other," and the pianist drew with her pencil four little upright lines on the paper, representing the relative natural weight of the four fingers. "the fifth finger," she said, "figures very little in scale or passage playing. by correct methods of study the pupil learns to lighten the pressure of the stronger fingers and proportionately increase the weight of the weaker fingers." (4) do you approve of technic practise outside of pieces? "i certainly do. the amount of time given to technic study varies with the pupil's stage of advancement. in the beginning, the whole four hours must be devoted to technic practise. when some degree of facility and control have been attained, the amount may be cut down to two hours. later one hour is sufficient, and when one is far advanced a very short time will suffice to put the hand in trim; some rapid, brilliant arpeggios, or an étude with much finger work may be all that is necessary. "the player gains constantly in strength and technical control while studying pieces, provided correct methods are pursued. every piece is first of all a study in technic. the foundation must be rightly laid; the principles can then be applied to étude and piece." (5) what do you consider the most vital technical points? "that is a difficult question, involving everything about piano playing. there are the scales of all kinds, in single and double notes. arpeggios are of great importance, because, in one form or another, they constantly occur. octaves, chords, pedaling, and so on." "the trill, too," i suggested. "yes, the trill; but, after all, the trill is a somewhat individual matter. some players seem to have it naturally, or have very little trouble with it; others always have more or less difficulty. they do not seem able to play a rapid, even trill. many are unable to finish it off deftly and artistically. they can trill for a certain number of repetitions; when they become accustomed to the monotonous repetition it is not so easy to go into the ending without a break." (6) what means do you advise to secure velocity? "i make the same answer to this question that i made to the first--none. i never work for velocity, nor do i work _up_ velocity. that is a matter that generally takes care of itself. if you know the piece absolutely, know what it means and the effects you want to make, there will be little difficulty in getting over the keys at the tempo required. of course this does not apply to the pupil who is playing wrong, with weak fingers, uncertain touch and all the rest of the accompanying faults. i grant that these faults may not be so apparent in a piece of slow tempo. a pupil may be able to get through handel's largo, for instance; though his fingers are uncertain he can make the theme sound half-way respectable, while a piece in rapid tempo will be quite beyond him. the faults were in the largo just the same, but they did not show. rapid music reveals them at once. certain composers require almost a perfect technical equipment in order to render their music with adequate effect. mozart is one of these. much of his music looks simple, and is really quite easy to read; but to play it as it should be played is another thing entirely. i seldom give mozart to my pupils. those endless scales, arpeggios and passages, which must be flawless, in which you dare not blur or miss a single note! to play this music with just the right spirit, you must put yourself _en rapport_ with the epoch in which it was written--the era of crinoline, powdered wigs, snuffboxes and mincing minuets. i don't mean to say mozart's music is not emotional; it is filled with it, but it is not the emotion of to-day, but of yesterday, of more than a century back. "for myself, i love mozart's music. one of my greatest successes was in a mozart concerto with the chicago orchestra. i afterward remarked to one of my colleagues that it had been one of the most difficult tasks i had ever accomplished. 'yes, when one plays mozart one is so _exposed_,' was his clever rejoinder." (7) how do you keep repertoire in repair? "if you mean my own, i would answer that i don't try to keep all my pieces up, for i have hundreds and hundreds of them, and i must always save time to study new works. a certain number are always kept in practise, different programs, according to the requirements of the hour. my method of practise is to play slowly through the piece, carefully noting the spots that are weak and need special treatment. to these i give a certain number of repetitions, and then repeat the whole to see if the weak places are equal in smoothness to the rest. if not, they must have more study. but always slow practise. only occasionally do i go through the piece at the required velocity. "my pupils are always counseled to practise slowly. if they bring the piece for a first hearing, it must be slowly and carefully played; if for a second or third hearing, and they know it well enough to take it up to time, they can play it occasionally at this tempo before coming to me. but to constantly play a piece in rapid tempo is very harmful; it precludes all thought of analysis, of _how_ you are doing it. when you are playing at concert speed, you have no time to think of fingering, movement or condition--you are beyond all that. it is only in slow practise that you have time and opportunity to think of everything. "as an illustration, take the case of a pianist in a traveling concert company. he must play the same pieces night after night, with no opportunity to practise between. for the first few days the pieces go well; then small errors and weak spots begin to appear. there is no time for slow practise, so each nightly repetition increases the uncertainty. in a few months his playing degenerates so it is hardly fit to listen to. this is the result of constant fast playing." (8) how do you keep technic up to the standard? "if one is far advanced a few arpeggios and scales, or a brilliant étude will put the hand in condition. after one has rested, or had a vacation, some foundational exercises and finger movements may be necessary, to limber up the muscles and regain control and quickness. one may often have to review first principles, but technical facility is soon regained if it has once been thoroughly acquired. if one has stopped practise for quite a period, the return is slower, and needs to be more carefully prepared. "i use considerable czerny for technical purposes, with my pupils. op. 299, of course, and even earlier or easier ones; then op. 740. a few of the latter are most excellent for keeping up one's technic. the chopin studies, too, are daily bread." (9) the best way to study chords? "from the wrist and with fingers of steel small hands must of course begin with smaller positions." (10) what gymnastic exercises do you suggest? "whatever seems necessary for the special hand. tight hands need to be massaged to limber the fingers and stretch the web of flesh between them. the loose, flabby hand may also be strengthened and rendered firm by massage; but this is often a more difficult task than to stretch the right hand. if technical training is properly given, it is sure to render the hand flexible and strong." xxv agnes morgan simplicity in piano teaching one of the busiest of new york piano teachers, whose list of students taking private lessons in a season, almost touches the hundred mark, is mrs. agnes morgan. mrs. morgan has been laboring in this field for more than two decades, with ever increasing success. and yet so quietly and unobtrusively is all this accomplished, that the world only knows of the teacher through the work done by her pupils. the teacher has now risen to the point where she can pick and choose her own pupils, which is a great comfort to her, for it dispels much of the drudgery of piano teaching, and is one of the reasons why she loves her work. when one teaches from nine in the morning till after six every day of the season, it is not easy to find a leisure hour in which to discuss means and methods. by a fortunate chance, however, such an interview was recently possible. the questions had been borne in upon me: by what art or influence has this teacher attracted so large a following? what is it which brings to her side not only the society girl but the serious art-student and young teacher? what is the magnet which draws so many pupils to her that five assistants are needed to prepare those who are not yet ready to profit by her instruction? when i came in touch with this modest, unassuming woman, who greeted me with simple cordiality, and spoke with quiet dignity of her work, i felt that the only magnet was the ability to impart definite ideas in the simplest possible way. "dr. william mason, with whom i studied," began mrs. morgan, "used to say that a musical touch was born, not made; but i have found it possible to so instruct a pupil that she can make as beautiful a tone as can be made; even a child can do this. the whole secret lies in arm and wrist relaxation, with arched hand, and firm nail joint. inspiration from an american teacher "i feel that dr. mason himself was the one who made me see the reason of things. i had always played more or less brilliantly, for technic came rather easy to me. i had studied in leipsic, where i may say i learned little or nothing about the principles of piano playing, but only 'crammed' a great number of difficult compositions. i had been with moszkowski also; but it was really dr. mason, an american teacher, who first set me thinking. i began to think so earnestly about the reason for doing things that i often argued the points out with him, until he would laugh and say, 'you go one way and i go another, but we both reach the same point in the end.' and from that time i have gone on and on until i have evolved my own system of doing things. a teacher cannot stand still. i would be a fool not to profit by the experience gained through each pupil, for each one is a separate study. this has been a growth of perhaps twenty-five years--as the result of my effort to present the subject of piano technic in the most concise form. i have been constantly learning what is not essential, and what can be omitted. simplicity "simplicity is the keynote of my work. i try to teach only the essentials. there are so many études and studies that are good, czerny, for instance, is splendid. i believe in it all, but there is not time for much of it. so with bach. i approve of studying everything we have of his for piano, from the 'little pieces' up to the big preludes and fugues. whenever i can i use bach. but here again we have not time to use as much of bach as we should like. still i do the best i can. even with those who have not a great deal of time to practise, i get in a bach invention whenever possible. "when a new pupil comes who is just starting, or has been badly taught, she must of course begin with hand formation. she learns to form the arch of the hand and secure firm finger joints, especially the nail joint. i form the hand away from the piano, at a table. nothing can be done toward playing till these things are accomplished. i often have pupils who have been playing difficult music for years, and who consider themselves far advanced. when i show them some of these simple things, they consider them far too easy until they find they cannot do them. sometimes nothing can be done with such pupils until they are willing to get right down to rock bottom, and learn how to form the hand. as to the length of time required, it depends on the mentality of the pupil and the kind of hand. some hands are naturally very soft and flabby, and of course it is more difficult to render them strong. finger action "when the arch of the hand is formed, we cultivate intelligent movement in the finger tips, and for this we must have a strong, dependable nail joint. of course young students must have knuckle action of the fingers, but i disapprove of fingers being raised too high. as we advance, and the nail joint becomes firmer and more controlled, there is not so great need for much finger action. velocity is acquired by less and less action of the fingers; force is gained by allowing arm weight to rest on the fingers; lightness and delicacy by taking the arm weight off the fingers--holding it back. "i use no instruction books for technical drill, but give my own exercises, or select them from various sources. certain principles must govern the daily practise, from the first. when they are mastered in simple forms later work is only development. loose wrist exercises, in octaves, sixths, or other forms, should form a part of the daily routine. so should scale playing, for i am a firm believer in scales of all kinds. chords are an important item of practise. how few students, uninstructed in their principles, ever play good chords? they either flap the hand down from the wrist, with a weak, thin tone, or else they play with stiff, high wrists and arms, making a hard, harsh tone. in neither case do they use any arm weight. it often takes some time to make them see the principles of arm weight and finger grasp. questions of pedaling "another point which does not receive the attention it deserves is pedaling. few students have a true idea of the technic of the foot on the pedal. they seem to know only one way to use the damper pedal, and that is to come down hard on it, perhaps giving it a thump at the same time. i give special preparatory exercises for pedal use. placing the heel on the floor, and the forepart of the foot on the pedal, they learn to make one depression with every stroke of the metronome; when this can be done with ease, then two depressions to the beat, and so on. in this exercise the pedal is not pressed fully down; on the contrary there is but a slight depression; this vibration on the pedal has the effect of a constant shimmering of light upon the tones, which is very beautiful." here the artist illustrated most convincingly with a portion of a chopin prelude. "one needs a flexible ankle to use the pedal properly; indeed the ankle should be as pliant as the wrist. i know of no one else who uses the pedal in just this fashion; so i feel as though i had discovered it. "yes, i have numbers of pupils among society people; girls who go out a good deal and yet find time to practise a couple hours a day. the present tendency of the wealthy is to take a far more serious view of music study than was formerly the case. they feel its uplifting and ennobling influence, respect its teachers, and endeavor to do carefully and well whatever they attempt. "while necessary and important, the technical foundation is after all but a small part compared to the training for rhythmic sense, and for the knowledge of how to produce good and beautiful results in musical interpretation." xxvi eugene heffley modern tendencies in piano music eugene heffley, the founder and first president of the macdowell club, of new york, a pianist and teacher of high ideals and most serious aims, came to new york from pittsburg, in 1900, at the suggestion of macdowell himself. he came to make a place for himself in the profession of the metropolis, and has proved himself a thoroughly sincere and devoted teacher, as well as a most inspiring master; he has trained numerous young artists who are winning success as pianists and teachers. mr. heffley, while entertaining reverence for the older masters, is very progressive, always on the alert to discover a new trend of thought, a new composer, a new gospel in musical art. he did much to make known and arouse enthusiasm for macdowell's compositions, when they were as yet almost unheard of in america. in an equally broad spirit does he introduce to his students the works of the ultra modern school, debussy, rachmaninoff, florent schmitt, reger, liadow, poldini and others. "my students like to learn these new things, and the audiences that gather here in the studio for our recitals, come with the expectation of being enlightened in regard to new and seldom heard works, and we do not disappoint them. florent schmitt, in spite of his german surname, is thoroughly french in his manner and idiom, though they are not of the style of debussy; he has written some beautiful things for the piano; a set of short pieces which are little gems. i rank rachmaninoff very highly, and of course use his preludes, not only the well-known ones--the c and g minor--but the set of thirteen in one opus number; they are most interesting. i use a good deal of russian music; liadow has composed some beautiful things; but tschaikowsky, in his piano music, is too complaining and morbid, as a rule, though he is occasionally in a more cheerful mood. it seems as though music has said all it can say along consonant lines, and regular rhythms. we must look for its advancement in the realm of dissonance; not only in this but in the way of variety in rhythm. how these modern composers vary their rhythms, sometimes three or four different ones going at once! it is the unexpected which attracts us in musical and literary art, as well as in other things: we don't want to know what is coming next; we want to be surprised. "of the classic literature, i use much bach, when i can. i used to give more mozart than i do now; latterly i have inclined toward haydn; his variations and sonatas are fine; my students seem to prefer haydn also. i thoroughly believe in the value of polyphonic music as a mental study; it is a necessity. and bach is such a towering figure, such a rock of strength in musical art. bach was essentially a christian, and this element of devoutness, of worship, shines out in everything he wrote. i do not believe that music, without this element of worship, will live. tschaikowsky did not have it, nor berlioz, nor even mozart, for mozart wrote merely from the idea of sheer beauty of sound; in that sense he was a pagan. i doubt if strauss has it. one cannot foresee how the future will judge the music of to-day; what will it think of schönberg? i am holding in abeyance any opinion i might form regarding his work till i have had more time to know it better. i can only say i have heard his string quartet three times. the first time i found much in it to admire; the second time i was profoundly moved by certain parts of it, and on the third occasion i felt that the work, especially the latter part, contained some of the most beautiful music i had ever listened to. "in regard to the technical training my pupils receive, it is not so easy to formulate my manner of teaching. each pupil is a separate study, and is different from every other. as you well know, i am not a 'method man': i have little use for the so-called piano method. to be a true teacher of the piano is a high calling indeed; for there are many pedagogues but comparatively few real teachers. i make a distinction between the two. a pedagogue is one who, filled with many rules and much learning, endeavors to pour his knowledge into the pupil; whereas the true teacher seeks to draw out what is in the pupil. he strives to find what the pupil has aptitude for, what he likes to do and can do best. the teacher must be something of a psychologist, or how can he correctly judge of the pupil's temperament, his tastes, his mentality, and what to do for him? "when a new pupil comes, i must make a mental appraisement of his capacity, his likelihood to grasp the subject, his quickness of intelligence, his health, and so on. no two pupils can be treated in the same way. one who has little continuity, who has never followed out a serious line of thought in any direction, must be treated quite differently from one of an opposite mentality and experience. it would be useless to give bach to the first pupil, it would only be a waste of time and patience: he could not comprehend the music in any sense; he would have no conception of the great things that bach stands for. such a course of treatment would only make him hate music; whereas to one of a more serious and thoughtful turn of mind, you might give any amount of bach. "a student with a poor touch and undeveloped hand, must go through a regular course of training. the hand is first placed in position, either at the keyboard or on a table; the fingers are taught to start with up movements, as the lifting muscles need special attention. a muscle or a finger, is either _taut_, _flabby_ or _stiff_; it is the taut condition i strive for--to make the finger responsive, like a fine steel spring. "it is absolutely necessary to establish correct finger action at the outset; for the sake of finger development, clearness, and accuracy. when single fingers can make accurate up and down movements, we can put two fingers together and acquire a perfect legato. i teach three kinds of legato--the _passage_ legato, the _singing_ legato, and the _accompanying_ legato; the pupil must master the first before attempting the others. i advise technic practise with each hand alone, for you must know i am a firm believer in the study of pure technic outside of pieces. "as the student advances we take up chord playing with different touches, scales, arpeggios and octaves. i institute quite early what i call polyphonic technic--one hand doing a different movement or touch from the other. this works out in scales and arpeggios with a variety of touches--one hand playing a passage or scale staccato while the other plays legato, and vice versa." asked if he taught technical material without a book, mr. heffley replied: "no, i generally use the heinrich germer work, as it covers the ground very satisfactorily; it is compact, concise, and complete in one volume. i also use mertke to some extent. every form of exercise must be worked out in all keys; i find the books useful for all kinds of students. i may add that i use comparatively few études. "if the student seems to have a very imperfect rhythmic sense, i use the metronome, but as sparingly as possible, for i want to establish the inner sense of rhythm. "in regard to memorizing. i give no special advice, but counsel the student to employ the way which is easiest and most natural to him. there are three distinct ways of committing music: the analytic, photographic, and muscular. the analytic memory picks the passage apart and learns just how it is constructed, and why; the photographic memory can see the veritable picture of the passage before the mind's eye; while the muscular memory lets the fingers find the notes. this is not a very reliable method, but some pupils have to learn in this way. of course the analytical memory is the best; when the pupil has the mental ability to think music in this way, i strongly recommend it. "one point i make much of in my teaching, and that is tone color, as a distinct factor in musical interpretation. it is not merely a question of using the marks of expression, such as ff, mf, pp, and so on; it is more subtle than that--it is the _quality_ of tone i seek after. sometimes i work with a pupil for several minutes over a single tone, until he really comprehends what he has to do to produce the right quality of tone, and can remember how he did it. the pedal helps wonderfully, for it is truly the 'soul of the piano.' "some pupils have fancy but no imagination, and vice versa. the terms are not synonymous. reading poetry helps to develop the aesthetic sense; pictures help also, and nature. i must necessarily take into account the pupil's trend of temperament while instructing him. "interpretative expression is not a positive but a relative quantity. one player's palette is covered with large blotches of color, and he will paint the picture with bold strokes; another delights in delicate miniature work. each will conceive the meaning and interpretation of a composition through the lens of his own temperament. i endeavor to stimulate the imagination of the pupil through reading, through knowledge of art, through a comprehension of the correlation of all the arts. "the musical interpreter has a most difficult, exacting and far-reaching task to perform. an actor plays one part night after night; a painter is occupied for days and weeks with a single picture; a composer is absorbed for the time being on one work only. the pianist, on the other hand, must, during a recital, sweep over the whole gamut of expression: the simple, the pastoral, the pathetic, the passionate, the spiritual--he is called upon to portray every phase of emotion. this seems to me a bigger task than is set before any other class of art-workers. the pianist must be able to render with appropriate sentiment the simplicity and fresh naïveté of the earlier classics, haydn, mozart; the grandeur of bach; the heroic measures of beethoven; the morbid elegance of chopin; the romanticism of schumann; the magnificent splendor of liszt. "in choosing musical food for my pupils, i strive to keep away from the beaten track of the hackneyed. the mistake made by many teachers is to give far too difficult music. why should i teach an old war-horse which the pupil has to struggle over for six months without being really able to master, and which he will thoroughly hate at the end of that time? the scherzo op. 31, of chopin, and the liszt rhapsodies he can hear in the concert room, where he can become familiar with most of the famous piano compositions. why should he not learn to know many less hackneyed pieces, which do not so frequently appear on concert programs? "herein lies one of the great opportunities for the broad-minded teacher--to be individual in his work. according to his progressive individuality will his work be valued." xxvii germaine schnitzer modern methods in piano study "it is difficult to define such a comprehensive term as technic, for it means so much," remarked germaine schnitzer the french pianist to me one day, when we were discussing pianistic problems. "there is no special sort or method of technic that will do for all players, for every mentality is different; every hand is peculiar to itself, and different from every other. not only is each player individual in this particular, but one's right hand may differ from one's left; therefore each hand may require separate treatment. "an artistic technic can be acquired only by those who have an aptitude for it, plus the willingness to undertake the necessary drudgery; practise alone, no matter how arduous, is not sufficient. technic is evolved from thought, from hearing great music, from much listening to great players; intent listening to one's own playing, and to the effects one strives to make. it is often said that the pianist cannot easily judge of the tonal effects he is producing, as he is too near the instrument. with me this is not the case. my hearing is so acute that i know the exact dynamics of every tone, every effect of light and shade; thus i do not have to stand at a distance, as the painter does, even if i could do so, in order to criticize my work, for i can do this satisfactorily at close range. "i hardly know when i learned technic; at all events it was not at the beginning. at the start i had some lessons with quite a simple woman teacher. we lived near paris, and my elder sister was then studying with raoul pugno; she was a good student and practised industriously. she said she would take me to the master, and one day she did so. i was a tiny child of about seven, very small and thin--not much bigger than a fly. the great man pretended he could hardly see me. i was perched upon the stool, my feet, too short to reach the floor, rested on the extension pedal box which i always carried around with me, i went bravely through some bach inventions. when i finished, pugno regarded me with interest. he said he would teach me; told me to prepare some more inventions, some czerny studies and the mendelssohn capriccio, op. 22, and come to him in four weeks. needless to say, i knew every note of these compositions by heart when i took my second lesson. soon i was bidden to come to him every fortnight, then every week, and finally he gave me two lessons a week. "for the first five years of my musical experience, i simply played the piano. i played everything--sonatas, concertos--everything; large works were absorbed from one lesson to the next. when i was about twelve i began to awake to the necessity for serious study; then i really began to practise in earnest. my master took more and more interest in my progress and career: he was at pains to explain the meaning of music to me--the ideas of the composers. many fashionable people took lessons of him, for to study with pugno had become a fad; but he called me his only pupil, saying that i alone understood him. i can truly say he was my musical father; to him i owe everything. we were neighbors in a suburb of paris, as my parents' home adjoined his; we saw a great deal of him and we made music together part of every day. when he toured in america and other countries, he wrote me frequently; i could show you many letters, for i have preserved a large number--letters filled with beautiful and exalted thoughts, expressed in noble and poetic language. they show that pugno possessed a most refined, superior mind, and was truly a great artist. "i studied with pugno ten years. at the end of that time he wished me to play for emil saur. saur was delighted with my work, and was anxious to teach me certain points. from him i acquired the principles of touch advocated by his master, nicholas rubinstein. these i mastered in three months' time, or i might say in two lessons. "according to nicholas rubinstein, the keys are not to be struck with high finger action, nor is the direct end of the finger used. the point of contact is rather just back of the tip, between that and the ball of the finger. furthermore we do not simply strive for plain legato touch. the old instruction books tell us that legato must be learned first, and is the most difficult touch to acquire. but legato does not bring the best results in rapid passages, for it does not impart sufficient clarity. in the modern idea something more crisp, scintillating and brilliant is needed. so we use a half staccato touch. the tones, when separated a hair's breadth from each other, take on a lighter, more vibrant, radiant quality; they are really like strings of pearls. then i also use pressure touch, pressing and caressing the keys--feeling as it were for the quality i want; i think it, i hear it mentally, and i can make it. with this manner of touching the keys, and this constant search for quality of tone, i can make any piano give out a beautiful tone, even if it seems to be only a battered tin pan. tone which vibrates through the whole body "weight touch is of course a necessity; for it i use not only arms and shoulders, but my whole body feels and vibrates with the tones of the piano. of course i have worked out many of these principles for myself; they have not been acquired from any particular book, set of exercises, or piano method; i have made my own method from what i have acquired and experienced in ways above mentioned. on memorizing "in regard to memorizing piano music i have no set method. the music comes to me i know not how. after a period of deep concentration, of intent listening, it is mine, a permanent possession. you say leschetizky advises his pupils to learn a small portion, two or four measures, each hand alone and away from the piano. other pianists tell me they have to make a special study of memorizing. all this is not for me--it is not my way. when i have studied the piece sufficiently to play it, i know it--every note of it. when i play a concerto with orchestra i am not only absolutely sure of the piano part, but i also know each note that the other instruments play. of course i am listening intently to the piano and to the whole orchestra during a performance; if i allowed myself to think of anything else, i should be lost. this absolute concentration is what conquers all difficulties. abstract technic "about practising technic for itself alone: this will not be necessary when once the principles of technic are mastered. i, at least, do not need to do so. i make, however, various technical exercises out of all difficult passages in pieces. i scarcely need to look at the printed pages of pieces i place on my recital programs. i have them with me, to be sure, but they are seldom taken out of their boxes. what i do is to think the pieces through and do mental work with them, and for this i must be quiet and by myself. an hour's actual playing at the piano each day is sufficient to prepare for a recital. "it must not be thought that i do not study very seriously. i do not work less than six hours a day; if on any day i fail to secure this amount of time, i make it up at the earliest moment. during the summer months, when i am preparing new programs for the next season, i work very hard. as i said, i take the difficult passages of a composition and make the minutest study of them in every detail, making all kinds of technical exercises out of a knotty section, sometimes playing it in forty or fifty different ways. for example, take the little piece out of schumann's _carneval_, called 'the reconnaissance.' that needed study. i gave three solid days to it; that means from nine to twelve in the morning, and from one to five in the afternoon. at the end of that time i knew it perfectly and was satisfied with it. from that day to this i have never had to give a thought to that number, for i am confident i know it utterly. i have never had an accident to that or to any of my pieces when playing in public. in my opinion a pianist has a more difficult task to accomplish than any other artist. the singer has to sing only one note at a time; the violinist or 'cellist need use but one hand for notes. even the orchestral conductor who aspires to direct his men without the score before him, may experience a slip of memory once in awhile, yet he can go on without a break. a pianist, however, has perhaps half a dozen notes in each hand to play at once; every note must be indelibly engraved on the memory, for one dares not make a slip of any kind. "an artist playing in london, paris or new york--i class these cities together--may play about the same sort of programs in each. the selections will not be too heavy in character. in madrid or vienna the works may be even more brilliant. it is berlin that demands heavy, solid meat. i play bach there, beethoven and brahms. it is a severe test to play in berlin and win success. "i have made several tours in america. this is a wonderful country. i don't believe you americans realize what a great country you have, what marvelous advantages are here, what fine teachers, what great orchestras, what opera, what audiences! the critics, too, are so well informed and so just. all these things impress a foreign artist--the love for music that is here, the knowledge of it, and the enthusiasm for it. a worthy artist can make a name and success in america more quickly and surely than in any country in the world. "for one thing america is one united country from coast to coast, so it is much easier getting about here than in europe. for another thing i consider you have the greatest orchestras in the world, and i have played with the orchestras of all countries. i also find you have the most enthusiastic audiences to be found anywhere. "in europe a musical career offers few advantages. people often ask my advice about making a career over there, and i try to dissuade them. it sometimes impresses me as a lions' den, and i have the desire to cry out 'beware' to those who may be entrapped into going over before they are ready, or know what to expect. of course there are cases of phenomenal success, but they are exceptions to the general rule. "people go to europe to get atmosphere (stimmung)--that much abused term! i could tell them they make their own atmosphere wherever they are. i have lived in music all my life, but i can say i find musical atmosphere right here in america. if i listen to the boston symphony orchestra, or to the kneisel quartet, when these organizations are giving an incomparable performance of some masterpiece, i am entirely wrapt up in the music; am i not then in a musical atmosphere? or if i hear a performance of a wagner opera at the metropolitan, where wagner is given better even than in bayreuth, am i not also in a musical atmosphere? to be sure, if i am in bayreuth i may see some reminiscences of wagner the man, or if i am in vienna i can visit the graves of beethoven and schubert. but these facts of themselves do not create a musical atmosphere. "you in america can well rejoice over your great country, your fine teachers and musicians and your musical growth. after a while you may be the most musical nation in the world." xxviii ossip gabrilowitsch characteristic touch on the piano arthur hochman, russian pianist and composer, once remarked to me, in reference to the quality of tone and variety of tonal effects produced by the various artists now before the public: "for me there is one pianist who stands above them all--his name is gabrilowitsch." the quality of tone which this rare artist draws from his instrument, is unforgettable. i asked him one morning, when he was kind enough to give me the opportunity for a quiet chat, how he produced this luscious singing quality of tone. "a beautiful tone? ah, that is difficult to describe, whether in one hour or in many hours. it is first a matter of experiment, of individuality, then of experience and memory. we listen and create the tone, modify it until it expresses our ideal, then we try to remember how we did it. "i cannot say that i always produce a beautiful tone; i try to produce a characteristic tone, but sometimes it may not be beautiful: there are many times when it may be anything but that. i do not think there can be any fixed rule or method in tone production, because people and hands are so different. what does for one will not do for another. some players find it easier to play with high wrist, some with low. some can curve their fingers, while others straighten them out. there are of course a few foundation principles, and one is that arms and wrists must be relaxed. fingers must often be loose also, but not at the nail joint; that must always be firm. i advise adopting the position of hand which is most comfortable and convenient. in fact all forms of hand position can be used, if for a right purpose, so long as the condition is never cramped or stiff. i permit either a high or low position of the wrist, so long as the tone is good. as i said, the nail joint must remain firm, and never be crushed under by the weight of powerful chords, as is apt to be the case with young players whose hands are weak and delicate. [illustration: to miss harriette brower, ossip gabrilowitsch] technical study "yes, i am certainly in favor of technical practise outside of pieces. there must be scale and arpeggio study, in which the metronome can be used. but i believe in striving to make even technical exercises of musical value. if scales are played they should be performed with a beautiful quality and variety of tone; if one attempts a czerny étude, it should be played with as much care and finish as a beethoven sonata. bring out all the musical qualities of the étude. do not say, 'i'll play this measure sixteen times, and then i'm done with it.' do nothing for mechanical ends merely, but everything from a musical standpoint. yes, i give some czerny to my students; not many études however. i prefer chopin and rubinstein. there is a set of six rubinstein studies which i use, including the staccato étude. "in regard to technical forms and material, each player may need a different tonic. i have found many useful things in a work by your own dr. william mason, _touch and technic_. i have used this to a considerable extent. to my knowledge he was the first to illustrate the principle of weight, which is now pretty generally accepted here as well as in europe. "an ancient and famous philosopher, seneca, is said to have remarked that by the time a man reaches the age of twenty-five, he should know enough to be his own physician, or he is a fool. we might apply this idea to the pianist. after studying the piano for a number of years he should be able to discover what sort of technical exercises are most beneficial; if he cannot do so he must be a fool. why should he always depend on the exercises made by others? there is no end to the list of method books and technical forms; their name is legion. they are usually made by persons who invent exercises to fit their own hands; this does not necessarily mean that they will fit the hands of others. i encourage my pupils to invent their own technical exercises. they have often done so with considerable success, and find much more pleasure in them than in those made by others. "two of the most important principles in piano playing are: full, round, exact tone; distinct phrasing. the most common fault is indistinctness--slurring over or leaving out notes. clearness in piano playing is absolutely essential. if an actor essays the rôle of hamlet, he must first of all speak distinctly and make himself clearly understood; otherwise all his study and characterization are in vain. the pianist must likewise make himself understood; he therefore must enunciate clearly. velocity "you speak of velocity as difficult for some players to acquire. i have found there is a general tendency to play everything too fast, to rush headlong through the piece, without taking time to make it clear and intelligible. when the piece is quite clear in tone and phrasing, it will not sound as fast as it really is, because all the parts are in just relation to each other. as an illustration of this fact, there is a little gavotte of mine, which i had occasion to play several times in paris. a lady, a very good pianist, got the piece, learned it, then came and asked me to hear her play it. she sat down to the piano, and rushed through the piece in a way that so distorted it i could hardly recognize it. when she finished i remonstrated, but she assured me that her tempo was exactly like mine as she had heard me play the piece three times. i knew my own tempo exactly and showed her that while it did not differ so greatly from hers, yet my playing sounded slower because notes and phrasing were all clear, and everything rightly balanced. power "how do i gain power? power does not depend on the size of the hand or arm; for persons of quite small physique have enough of it to play with the necessary effect. power is a nervous force, and of course demands that arms and wrists be relaxed. the fingers must be so trained as to be strong enough to stand up under this weight of arms and hands, and not give way. i repeat, the nail joint must remain firm under all circumstances. it is so easy to forget this; one must be looking after it all the time. memorizing "in regard to memorizing, i have no special rule or method. committing to memory seems to come of its own accord. some pieces are comparatively easy to learn by heart; others, like a bach fugue, require hard work and close analysis. the surest way to learn a difficult composition, is to write it out from memory. there is a great deal of benefit in that. if you want to remember the name of a person or a place, you write it down. when the eye sees it, the mind retains a much more vivid impression. this is visual memory. when i play with orchestra, i of course know every note the orchestra has to play as well as my own part. it is a much greater task to write out a score from memory than a piano solo, yet it is the surest way to fix the composition in mind. i find that compositions i learned in early days are never forgotten, they are always with me, while the later pieces have to be constantly looked after. this is doubtless a general experience, as early impressions are most enduring. "an orchestral conductor should know the works he conducts so thoroughly that he need not have the score before him. i have done considerable conducting the past few years. last season i gave a series of historical recitals, tracing the growth of the piano concerto, from mozart down to the present. i played nineteen works in all, finishing with the rachmaninoff concerto." mr. gabrilowitsch has entirely given up teaching, and devotes his time to recital and concert, conducting, and composing. hans von bülow as teacher and interpreter those who heard hans von bülow in recital during his american tour, in 1876, listened to piano playing that was at once learned and convincing. a few years before, in 1872, rubinstein had come and conquered. the torrential splendor of his pianism, his mighty crescendos and whispering diminuendos, his marvelous variety of tone--all were in the nature of a revelation; his personal magnetism carried everything before it. american audiences were at his feet. [illustration: hans von bülow] in von bülow was found a player of quite a different caliber. clarity of touch, careful exactness down to the minutest detail caused the critics to call him cold. he was a deep thinker and analyzer; as he played one saw, as though reflected in a mirror, each note, phrase and dynamic mark of expression to be found in the work. from a rubinstein recital the listener came away subdued, awed, inspired, uplifted, but disinclined to open the piano or touch the keys that had been made to burn and scintillate under those wonderful hands. after hearing von bülow, on the other hand, the impulse was to hasten to the instrument and reproduce what had just seemed so clear and logical, so simple and attainable. it did not seem to be such a difficult thing to play the piano--like _that_! it was as though he had said: "any of you can do what i am doing, if you will give the same amount of time and study to it that i have done. listen and i will teach you!" von bülow was a profound student of the works of beethoven; his edition of the sonatas is noted for recondite learning, clearness and exactness in the smallest details. through his recitals in america he did much to make these works better known and understood. nor did he neglect chopin, and though his readings of the music of the great pole may have lacked in sensuous beauty of touch and tone, their interpretation was always sane, healthy, and beautiful. toward the end of a season during the eighties, it was announced that von bülow would come to berlin and teach an artist class in the klindworth conservatory. this was an unusual opportunity to obtain lessons from so famous a musician and pedagogue, and about twenty pianists were enrolled for the class. a few of these came with the master from frankfort, where he was then located. carl klindworth, pianist, teacher, critic, editor of chopin and beethoven, was then the director of the school. the two men were close friends, which is proved by the fact that von bülow was willing to recommend the klindworth edition of beethoven, in spite of the fact that he himself had edited many of the sonatas. another proof is that he was ready to leave his work in frankfort, and come to berlin, in order to shed the luster of his name and fame upon the klindworth school--the youngest of the many musical institutions of that music-ridden, music-saturated capital. * * * * * it was a bright may morning when the director entered the music-room with his guest, and presented him to the class. they saw in him a man rather below medium height, with large intellectual head, beneath whose high, wide forehead shone piercing dark eyes, hidden behind glasses. he bowed to the class, saying he was pleased to see so many industrious students. his movements, as he looked around the room, were quick and alert; he seemed to see everything at once, and the students saw that nothing could escape that active mentality. the class met four days in each week, and the lessons continued from nine in the morning until well on toward one o'clock. it was announced that only the works of brahms, raff, mendelssohn and liszt would be taught and played, so nothing else need be brought to the class; indeed brahms was to have the place of honor. while many interesting compositions were discussed and played, perhaps the most helpful thing about these hours spent with the great pedagogue was the running fire of comment and suggestion regarding technic, interpretation, and music and musicians in general. von bülow spoke in rapid, nervous fashion, with a mixture of german and english, often repeating in the latter tongue what he had said in the former, out of consideration for the americans and english present. in teaching, von bülow required the same qualities which were so patent in his playing. clearness of touch, exactness in phrasing and fingering were the first requirements; the delivery of the composer's idea must be just as he had indicated it--no liberties with the text were ever permitted. he was so honest, so upright in his attitude toward the makers of good music, that it was a sin in his eyes to alter anything in the score, though he believed in adding any marks of phrasing or expression which would elucidate the intentions of the composer. everything he said or did showed his intellectual grasp of the subject; and he looked for some of the same sort of intelligence on the part of the student. a failure in this respect, an inability to apprehend at once the ideas he endeavored to convey, would annoy the sensitive and nervous little doctor; he would become impatient, sarcastic and begin to pace the floor with hasty strides. when in this state he could see little that was worthy in the student's performance, for a small error would be so magnified as to dwarf everything that was excellent. when the lion began to roar, it behooved the players to be circumspect and meek. at other times, when the weather was fair in the class-room, things went with tolerable smoothness. he did not trouble himself much about technic, as of course a pupil coming to him was expected to be well equipped on the technical side; his chief concern was to make clear the content and interpretation of the composition. in the lessons he often played detached phrases and passages for and with the student, but never played an entire composition. one of the most remarkable things about this eccentric man was his prodigious memory. nearly every work for piano which could be mentioned he knew and could play from memory. he often expressed the opinion that no pianist could be considered an artist unless he or she could play at least two hundred pieces by heart. he, of course, more than fulfilled this requirement, not only for piano but for orchestral music. as conductor of the famous meiningen orchestra, he directed every work given without a note of score before him--considered a great feat in those days. he was a ceaseless worker, and his eminence in the world of music was more largely due to unremitting labor than to genius. from the many suggestions to the berlin class, the following have been culled. "to play correctly is of the first importance; to play beautifully is the second requirement. a healthy touch is the main thing. some people play the piano as if their fingers had _migrane_ and their wrists were rheumatic. do not play on the sides of the finger nor with a sideways stroke, for then the touch will be weak and uncertain. "clearness we must first have; every line and measure, every note must be analyzed for touch, tone, content and expression. "you are always your first hearer; to be one's own critic is the most difficult of all. "when a new theme enters you must make it plain to the listener; all the features of the new theme, the new figure, must be plastically brought out. "brilliancy does not depend on velocity but on clarity. what is not clear cannot scintillate nor sparkle. make use of your strongest fingers in brilliant passages, leaving out the fourth when possible. a scale to be brilliant and powerful must not be too rapid. every note must be round and full and not too legato--rather a mezzo legato--so that single tones, played hands together, shall sound like octaves. one of the most difficult things in rhythm, is to play passages where two notes alternate with triplets. scales may be practised in this way alternating three notes with two. "we must make things sound well--agreeably, in a way to be admired. a seemingly discordant passage can be made to sound well by ingeniously seeking out the best that is in it and holding that up in the most favorable light. practise dissonant chords until they please the ear in spite of their sharpness. think of the instruments of the orchestra and their different qualities of tone, and try to imitate them on the piano. think of every octave on the piano as having a different color; then shade and color your playing. (_also bitte coloriren_)!" if bülow's musical trinity, bach, beethoven, and brahms, had a fourth divinity added, it would surely have been liszt. the first day's program contained chiefly works by the hungarian master; among them _au bord d'une source_, scherzo and march, and the ballades. the player who rendered the scherzo was advised to practise octaves with light, flexible wrist; the kullak octave school was recommended, especially the third book; the other books could be read through, practising whatever seemed difficult and passing over what was easy. of the ballades the first was termed more popular, the second finer and more earnest--though neither makes very much noise. the _annees de pelerinage_ received much attention. among the pieces played were, _les cloches_, _chasse neige_, _eclogue_, _cloches de geneva_, _eroica_, _feux follets_ and _ma__zeppa_. also the big polonaise in e, the two études, _waldesrauschen_ and _gnomenreigen_; the mazourka, valse impromptu, and the first étude, of which last he remarked: "you can all play this; thirty years have passed since it was composed and people are only just finding out how fine it is. such is the case with many of liszt's works. we wonder how they ever could have been considered unmusical. yet the way some people play liszt the hearer is forced to exclaim, 'what an unmusical fellow liszt was, to be sure, to write like that!' "exactness in everything is of the greatest importance," he was fond of saying. "we must make the piano speak. as in speaking we use a separate movement of the lips for each word, so in certain kinds of melody playing, the hand is taken up after each note. then, too, we cannot make the piano speak without very careful use of the pedals." the mazourka of liszt was recommended as one of the most delightful of his lighter pieces. the _waldesrauschen_ also, was termed charming, an excellent concert number. "begin the first figure somewhat louder and slightly slower, then increase the movement and subdue the tone. _everything which_ _is to be played softly should be practised forte."_ of joachim raff the suite op. 91 held the most important place. each number received minute attention, the giga being played by ethelbert nevin. the _metamorphosen_ received a hearing, also the valse caprice, op. 116, of which the master was particular about the staccato left hand against the legato right. then came the scherzo op. 74, the valse caprice and the polka, from suite op. 71. von bülow described the little group of notes in left hand of middle section as a place where the dancers made an unexpected slip on the floor, and suggested it be somewhat emphasized. "we must make this little witticism," he said, as he illustrated the passage at the piano. "raff showed himself a pupil of mendelssohn in his earlier compositions; his symphonies will find more appreciation in the coming century--which cannot be said of the ocean symphony, for instance." of mendelssohn the capriccios op. 5 and 22 were played, also the prelude and fugue in e. von bülow deplored the neglect which was overtaking the works of mendelssohn, and spoke of the many beauties of his piano compositions. "there should be no sentimentality about the playing of mendelssohn's music," he said; "the notes speak for themselves. "the return to a theme, in every song or instrumental work of his is particularly to be noticed, for it is always interesting; this fugue in e should begin as though with the softest register of the organ." the subject of brahms has been deferred only that it may be spoken of as a whole. his music was the theme of the second, and a number of the following lessons. bülow was a close friend of the hamburg master, and kept in touch with him while in berlin. one morning he came in with a beaming face, holding up a sheet of music paper in beethoven's handwriting, which brahms had discovered and forwarded to him. it seemed that nothing could have given bülow greater pleasure than to receive this relic. [illustration: dr. william mason] the first work taken up in class was brahms' variations on a handel theme. von bülow was in perfect sympathy with this noble work of brahms and illumined many passages with clear explanations. he was very exact about the phrasing, "what cannot be sung in one breath cannot be played in one breath," he said; "many composers have their own terms for expression and interpretation; brahms is very exact in these points--next to him comes mendelssohn. beethoven not at all careful about markings and schumann extremely careless. brahms, beethoven, and wagner have the right to use their own terms. brahms frequently uses the word _sostenuto_ where others would use _ritardando_." of the clavier stücke, op. 76, von bülow said: "the capriccio, no. 1 must not be taken too fast. first page is merely a prelude, the story begins at the second page. how wonderfully is this melody formed, so original yet so regular. compare it with a bach gigue. remember, andante does not mean dragging (_schleppando_), it means going (_gehend_)." to the player who gave the capriccio, no. 5 he said: "you play that as if it were a tarantelle of stephan heller's. agitation in piano playing must be carefully thought out; the natural sort will not do at all. we do not want _blind_ agitation, but _seeing_ agitation (_aufregung_). a diminuendo of several measures should be divided into stations, one each for f, mf, m, p, and pp. visit the zoological gardens, where you can learn much about legato and staccato from the kangaroos." the ballades were taken up in these lessons, and the light thrown upon their poetical content was often a revelation. the gloomy character of the _edward ballade_, op. 10, no. 1, the source of the scottish poem, the poetic story, were dwelt upon. the opening of this first ballade is sad, sinister and mysterious, like the old scotch story. the master insisted on great smoothness in playing it--the chords to sound like muffled but throbbing heartbeats. a strong climax is worked up on the second page, which dies away on the third to a _pianissimo_ of utter despair. from the middle of this page on to the end, the descending chords and octaves were likened to ghostly footsteps, while the broken triplets in the left hand accompaniment seem to indicate drops of blood. the third ballade also received an illumination from von bülow. this is a vivid tone picture, though without motto or verse. starting with those fateful fifths in the bass, it moves over two pages fitfully gloomy and gay, till at the end of the second page a descending passage leads to three chords so full of grim despair as to impart the atmosphere of a dungeon. the player was hastily turning the leaf. "stop!" cried the excited voice of the master, who had been pacing restlessly up and down, and now hurried from the end of the salon. "wait! we have been in prison--but now a ray of sunshine pierces the darkness. you must always pause here to make the contrast more impressive. there is more music in this little piece than in whole symphonies by some of the modern composers." both rhapsodies op. 79 were played; the second, he said, has parts as passionate as anything in the _götterdammerung_. both are fine and interesting works. again and again the players were counseled to make everything sound well. some intervals, fourths for instance, are harsh; make them as mild as possible. for one can play correctly, but horribly! some staccatos should be shaken out of the sleeve as it were. the first time a great work is heard there is so much to occupy the attention that only a small amount of pleasure can be derived from it. at the second hearing things are easier and by the twelfth time one's pleasure is complete. the pianist must consider the listener in a first rendering, and endeavor to soften the sharp discords. with a group of five notes, play two and then three--it sounds more distinguished. remember that unlearning gives much more trouble than learning. * * * * * in this brief résumé of the von bülow lessons, the desire has been to convey some of the hints and remarks concerning the music and its interpretation. the master's fleeting sentences were hurriedly jotted down during the lessons, with no thought of their ever being seen except by the owner. but as bülow's fame as a teacher became so great, these brief notes may now be of some value to both teacher and student. if it were only possible to create a picture of that berlin music-room, with its long windows opening out to a green garden--the may sunshine streaming in; the two grand pianos in the center, a row of anxious, absorbed students about the edge of the room--and the short figure of the little doctor, pacing up and down the polished floor, or seating himself at one piano now and then, to illustrate his instruction. this mental picture is the lifelong possession of each of those players who were so fortunate as to be present at the sessions. it can safely be affirmed, i think, that the principles of artistic rectitude, of exactness and thorough musicianship which were there inculcated, ever remained with the members of that class, as a constant incentive and inspiration. hints on interpretation from two american teachers william h. sherwood and dr. william mason william h. sherwood while a young student the opportunity came to attend a summer music school, founded by this eminent pianist and teacher. he had surrounded himself with others well known for their specialties in voice, violin and diction; but the director himself was the magnet who attracted pianists and teachers from the four corners of the land. perhaps the most intimate way to come in touch with a famous teacher, is to study with him during the summer months, in some quiet, retired spot. here the stress of the metropolis, with its rush and drive, its exacting hours, its remorseless round of lesson giving, is exchanged for the freedom of rural life. hours may still be exact, but a part of each day, or of each week, is given over to relaxation, to be spent in the open, with friends and pupils. it was under such conditions that i first met mr. sherwood. i had never even heard him play, and was glad the session opened with a piano recital. his playing delighted me; he had both power and delicacy, and his tone impressed me as being especially mellow and fine. there was deep feeling as well as poetry in his reading of both the chromatic fantaisie of bach, and the chopin fantaisie in f minor which were on the program. this opinion was strengthened at each subsequent hearing, for he gave frequent recitals and concerts during the season. my summer study with mr. sherwood consisted mainly in gaining ideas on the interpretation of various pieces. many of these ideas seem to me beautiful and inspiring, and i will set them down as fully as i can from the brief notes jotted down at the time. i trust i may be pardoned a few personal references, which are sometimes necessary to explain the situation. with advanced students mr. sherwood gave great attention to tone study and interpretation, even from the first lesson. he laid much stress on the use of slow, gentle motions in practise and in playing; on the spiritualization of the tones, of getting behind the notes to find the composer's meaning. he had, perhaps, a more poetic conception of piano playing than any master i have known, and was able to impart these ideas in clear and simple language. the first composition considered was schumann's nachtstück, the fourth of the set. he had a peculiar way of turning the hand on the middle finger, as on a pivot, for the extended chords, at the same time raising the whole outer side of the hand, so that the fifth finger should be able to play the upper melody notes round and full. in the middle section he desired great tenderness and sweetness of tone. "there are several dissonances in this part," he said, "and they ought to be somewhat accented--suspensions i might call them. in bach and handel's time, the rules of composition were very strict--no suspensions were allowed; so they were indicated where it was not permitted to write them." chopin's étude in sixths came up for analysis. "this study needs a very easy, quiet, limpid touch--the motions all gliding and sliding rather than pushing and forceful. i would advise playing it at first _pianissimo_; the wrist held rather low, the knuckles somewhat high, and the fingers straightened. in preparation for each pair of notes raise the fingers and let them down--not with a hard brittle touch, if i may use the word, but with a soft, velvety one. a composition like this needs to be idealized, spiritualized, taken out of everyday life. take, for instance, the impromptu op. 36, chopin; the first part of it is something like this étude, soft, undulating--smooth as oil. there is something very uncommon, spiritual, heavenly, about the first page of that impromptu--very little of the earth, earthy. the second page is in sharp contrast to the first, it comes right down to the hard, everyday business of life--it is full of harsh, sharp tones. well, the idea of that first page we get in this study in sixths. i don't want the bare tones that stand there on the printed page; i want them spiritualized--that is what reveals the artist. in the left hand the first note should have a clear, brittle accent, with firm fifth finger, and the double sixths played with the creeping, clinging movement i have indicated. if i should practise this étude for half an hour, you might be surprised at the effects i could produce. perhaps it might take ten hours, but in the end i am confident i could produce this floating, undulating effect. i heard liszt play nearly all these études at one time; i stood by and turned the pages. in this étude he doubled the number of sixths in each measure; the effect was wonderful and beautiful. "the chopin octave study, number 22, needs firm, quiet touch, elevating the wrist for black keys (as kullak explains) and depressing it for white keys. the hand must be well arched, the end fingers firm and strong, and the touch very pressing, clinging, and grasping. you always want to cling whenever there is any chance for clinging in piano playing. the second part of this étude should have a soft, flowing, poetic touch in the right hand, while the left hand part is well brought out. the thumb needs a special training to enable it to creep and slide from one key to another with snake-like movements. "rubinstein's barcarolle in g major. the thirds on the first page are very soft and gentle. i make a good deal of extra motion with these thirds, raising the fingers quite high and letting them fall gently on the keys. the idea of the first page of this barcarolle is one of utter quietness, colorlessness; one is alone on the water; the evening is quiet and still; not a sound breaks the hushed silence. the delicate tracery of thirds should be very soft, thin--like an airy cloud. the left hand is soft too, but the first beat should be slightly accented, the second not; the first is positive, the second negative. herein lies the idea of the barcarolle, the ebb and flow, the undulation of each measure. "begin the first measure very softly, the second measure a trifle louder, the third louder still, the fourth falling off again. as you stand on the shore and watch the great waves coming in, you see some that are higher and larger than others; so it is here. the concluding passage in sixths should diminish--like a little puff of vapor that ends in--nothing. on the second page we come upon something more positive; here is a tangible voice speaking to us. the melody should stand out clear, broad, beautiful; the accompanying chords should preserve the same ebb and flow, the advancing and receding wave-like movement. the exaggerated movement i spoke of a moment ago, i use in many ways. any one can hit the piano, with a sharp, incisive touch; but what i refer to is the reaching out of the fingers for the notes, the passing of the hand in the air and the final gentle fall on the key, not in haste to get there, but with confidence of reaching the key in time. if you throw a stone up in the air it will presently fall back again with a sharp thud; a bird rising, hovers a moment and descends gently. this barcarolle is not at all easy; there is plenty of work in it for flexible hands; it is a study in _pianissimo_--in power controlled, held back, restrained." taking up the toccatina of rheinberger, mr. sherwood said: "i like this piece, there is good honest work in it; it is very effective, and most excellent practise. you ought to play this every day of the year. it is written in twelve-eighths, which give four beats to the measure, but i think that gives it too hard and square a character. i would divide each measure into two parts and slightly accent each. though your temperament is more at home in the music of chopin and schumann, i recommend especially music of this sort, and also the music of bach; these give solidity and strength to your conception of musical ideas." we went through the raff suite, op. 94. "the preludio is very good," he said; "i like it. the menuetto is, musically, the least strong of any of the numbers, but it has a certain elegance, and is the most popular of them all. the romanza is a great favorite of mine, it is very graceful, flowing and melodious. the concluding fugue is a fine number; you see how the theme is carried from one hand to the other, all twisted about, in a way old bach and handel never thought of doing. i consider this raff fugue one of the best examples of modern fugue writing." mr. sherwood was fond of giving students the josef wieniawski valse, for brilliancy. "there are many fine effects which can be made in this piece; one can take liberties with it--the more imagination you have the better it will go. i might call it a _stylish_ piece; take the prelude as capriciously as you like; put all the effect you can into it. the valse proper begins in a very pompous style, with right hand very staccato; all is exceedingly coquettish. on the fifth page you see it is marked _amoroso_, but after eight measures the young man gives the whole thing away to his father! the beginning of the sixth page is very _piano_ and light--it is nothing more than a breath of smoke, an airy nothing. but at the _poco piu lento_, there is an undercurrent of reality; the two parts are going at the same time--the hard, earthly part, with accents, and the spiritual, thin as air. to realize these qualities in playing is the very idealization of technic." the chopin-liszt _maiden's wish_, was next considered. "the theme here is often overlaid and encrusted with the delicate lace-like arabesques that seek to hide it; but it must be found and brought out. there is so much in being able to find what is hidden behind the notes. you must get an insight into the inner idea; must feel it. this is not technic, not method even; it is the spiritualization of playing. there are pieces that will sound well if the notes only are played, like the little f minor moment musicale of schubert; yet even in this there is much behind the notes, which, if brought out, will make quite another thing of the piece. "schumann's andante, for two pianos, should have a very tender, caressing touch for the theme. the place where the four-sixteenths occur, which make rather a square effect, can be softened down. on the second page, be sure and do not accent the grace notes; let the accent come on the fifth finger every time. for the variation containing chords, use the grasping touch, which might be described as a certain indrawing of force in the end of the finger, as though taking a long breath. the variation in triplets seems at first sight almost a caricature, a burlesque on the theme, but i don't think that schumann had any such idea. on the contrary he meant it as a very sweet, gentle, loving thought. the last page has something ethereal, ideal about it; it should be breathed out, growing fainter and fainter to the end. "the g minor ballade, of chopin, begins slowly, with much dignity. the opening melody is one of sadness, almost gloom. the _a tempo_ on second page contains four parts going on at the same time. at the _piu forte,_ care must be taken to have the outer side of the hand well raised, and moved from the wrist. the idea here is one of great agitation and unrest. the fifth page needs great power and the legato octaves well connected and sustained. the feeling of unrest is here augmented until it becomes almost painful, and not until the _animato_ does a restful feeling come. this should be played lightly and delicately, the left hand giving the rhythm. the _presto_ demands great power and dash. let the wrist be low when beginning the chords, raise it after the first and let it fall after the second. always accent the second chord. begin the final double runs slowly and increase in speed and tone. so, too, with the octaves, begin slowly and increase in power and fire." numerous other compositions were analyzed, but the ones already quoted stand out in memory, and give some idea of mr. sherwood's manner of teaching. dr. william mason years after the foregoing experiences i had the privilege of doing some work with the dean of all american piano masters, dr. william mason. i had spent several years in european study, with scharwenka, klindworth and von bülow, and had returned to my own land to join its teaching and playing force. my time soon became so largely occupied with teaching that i feared my playing would be entirely pushed to the wall unless i were under the guidance of some master. with this thought in mind, i presented myself to dr. mason. "you have studied with sherwood," he began. "he has excellent ideas of touch and technic. some of these ideas came from me, though i don't wish to claim too much in the matter. sherwood has the true piano touch. very few pianists have it; klindworth did not have it, nor von bülow, nor even liszt, entirely, for he as well as the others, sought for a more orchestral manner of playing. sherwood has this touch; tausig had it, and de pachmann and rubinstein most of all. it is not taught in germany as it should be. the best american teachers are far ahead in this respect; in a few years the europeans will come to us to learn these things." (this was sherwood's idea also.) the first composition played to dr. mason was the g minor rhapsodie of brahms, with which, as it happened, he was unfamiliar. i played the entire piece through without interruption, and he seemed pleased. "you have a beautiful tone--a really beautiful tone, and you play very artistically; much of this must be natural to you, you could not have acquired it. you also have an excellently trained hand. i may say that in my forty years of teaching i have never had any one come to me with a better position, or more natural and normal condition. now, what do you think i can do for you?" i explained that i needed some new ideas in my teaching, and wished to keep up my own practise. "i will explain my theories to you, and we will then study some compositions together. "there is everything in knowing how to practise, but it is something that cannot be taught. i played in public ten years before i found out the secret. "practise slowly and in sections. not only must all the notes be there, they must be dwelt on. there must be a firm and rock-like basis for piano playing; such a foundation can only be laid by patient and persevering slow practise. if the player has not the control over his fingers to play a piece slowly, he certainly cannot play it fast. slow practise--one difficulty at a time--one hand at a time; napoleon's tactics, 'one division at a time,' applies to music study. above all do not hurry in fugue playing, a universal fault. bach needs a slower trill than modern music. chords are not to be played with percussion but with pressure. the main things in piano playing are tone and sentiment. when you take up a new piece, practise a few measures slowly, till you know them, then play faster; take the next few measures in the same way; but at first do not practise the whole piece through at once. "just as in life every experience of great joy or great grief leaves one better or more callous, so every time you practise you have either advanced or gone back. right playing, like good manners in a well-trained child, becomes habitual from always doing right. as we are influenced for good or evil by those we associate with, so are we influenced by the character and quality of the tones we make and hear. be in earnest; put your heart, your whole soul, your whole self into your playing." among other pieces we studied together was the schumann sonata in f minor, the _eusebius sonata_--a glorious work! in the opening movement the left hand should be very serious and ponderous, with the hand and fingers held close to the keys; using arm weight. the melody in octaves in right hand is beseeching, pleading, imploring. in many places the touch is very elastic. the second movement begins very softly, as though one heard something faintly in the distance, and did not quite know what it was, but thought it might be music. the accents in this movement are to be understood in a comparative degree, and are not as strong as the marks seem to indicate. the scherzo is extremely pompous and is to be played with heavy accents and a great deal of vim and go; the chords with the utmost freedom and dash. one must use the "letting-go" principle, which paderewski has to perfection. we next took up the grieg concerto; the peter's edition of this work has been corrected by the composer. at the first lesson, dr. mason accompanied on a second piano, and seemed pleased with the work i had done, making no corrections, except to suggest a somewhat quicker tempo. "not that i would do anything to impair your carefulness and accuracy, but you must take a risk, and from the beginning, too. i am reminded of the young man who has been very carefully brought up. when the time comes for him to strike out and take his chance in life, he holds back and is afraid, while another with more courage, steps in and takes away his opportunity." we discussed the slow movement at great length. "note in this movement the slow, dreamy effect that can be made at the ending of the second solo, and the artistic use of the pedal in the following chords. the third movement must have great swing and 'go'; the octave passage cadenza should be practised in rhythmical groups, and the final andante must be fast." the third time we played the concerto i had it well in hand. dr. mason accompanied as only he could do, and at the close praised me on the way i had worked it up, and the poetry and fire i was able to put into it. who could help playing with fire and enthusiasm when led by such a master! dr. mason was a most inspiring teacher, quick to note and praise what was good, and equally vigilant in correcting what was blameworthy. his criticisms were of the utmost value, for he had such wide experience, and such a large acquaintance with music and musicians. best of all he was a true artist, always ready to demonstrate his art for the benefit of the pupil, always encouraging, always inspiring. vital points in piano playing composite principles deduced from talks with eminent pianists and teachers section i how things are done, how others do them, and the reasons for the doing of them in one way and not in another, used to occupy my thoughts back as far as i can remember. as a child i was fond of watching any one doing fine needlework or beautiful embroidery, and tried to imitate what i saw, going into minutest details. this fondness for exactness and detail, when, applied to piano study, led me to question many things; to wonder why i was told to do thus and so, when other people seemed to do other ways; in fact i began to discover that every one who played the piano played it in a different fashion. why was there not one way? one memorable night i was taken to hear anton rubinstein. what a marvelous instrument the piano was, to be sure, when its keys were moved by a touch that was at one moment all fire and flame, and the next smooth as velvet or soft and light as thistle-down. what had my home piano in common with this wonder? why did all the efforts at piano playing i had hitherto listened to sink into oblivion when i heard this master? what was the reason of it all? more artists of the piano came within my vision, mehlig, joseffy, mason, and others. as i listened to their performances it was brought to me more clearly than ever that each master played the piano in the manner which best suited himself; at the same time each and every player made the instrument utter tones and effects little dreamed of by the ordinary learner. what was the secret? was it the manner of moving the keys, the size of hand, the length of finger, or the great strength possessed by the player? i had always been taught to play slowly and carefully, so that i should make no mistakes; these great pianists had wonderful fearlessness; rubinstein at least did not seem to care whether or not he hit a few wrong notes here and there, if he could only secure the speed and effect desired. whence came his fearless velocity, his tremendous power? essentials of pianism little by little i began to realize the essentials of effective piano playing were these: clear touch, intelligent phrasing, all varieties of tone, all the force the piano would stand, together with the greatest delicacy and the utmost speed. these things the artists possessed as a matter of course, but the ordinary student or teacher failed utterly to make like effects, or to play with sufficient clearness and force. what was the reason? in due course i came under the supervision of various piano pedagogues. to the first i gave implicit obedience, endeavoring to do exactly as i was told. the next teacher said i must begin all over again, as i had been taught "all wrong." i had never learned hand position nor independence of fingers--these must now be established. the following master told me finger independence must be secured in quite a different fashion from the manner in which i had been taught, which was "all wrong." the next professor said i must bend the finger squarely from the second joint, and not round all three joints, as i had been doing. this so-called fault took several months to correct. to the next i am indebted for good orthodox (if somewhat pedantic) ideas of fingering and phrasing, for which he was noted. the hobby of the next master was slow motions with soft touch. this course was calculated to take all the vim out of one's fingers and all the brilliancy out of one's playing in less than six months. to the next i owe a comprehension of the elastic touch, with devitalized muscles. this touch i practised so assiduously that my poor piano was ruined inside of a year, and had to be sent to the factory for a new keyboard. the next master insisted on great exactness of finger movements, on working up velocity with metronome, on fine tone shading and memorizing. the desire for real knowledge such, in brief, has been my experience with pedagogues and teachers of the piano. having passed through it (and in passing having tried various so-called and unnamed methods) i feel i have reached a vantage ground upon which i can stand and look back over the course. the desire to know the experience of the great artists of the keyboard is as strong within me as ever. what did they not have to go through to master their instrument? and having mastered it, what do they consider the vital essentials of piano technic and piano playing? surely they must know these things if any one can know them. they can tell, if they will, what to do and what to avoid, what to exclude as unnecessary or unessential and what to concentrate upon. the night rubinstein's marvelous tones fell upon my childish ears i longed to go to him, clasp his wonderful hands in my small ones and beg him to tell me how he did it all. i now know he could not have explained how, for the greater the genius--the more spontaneous its expression--the less able is such an one to put into words the manner of its manifestation. in later years the same impulse has come when listening to paderewski, hofmann and others. if they could only tell us exactly what is to be done to master the piano, what a boon it would be to those who are awake enough to profit by and follow the directions and experiences of such masters. in recognition of the strength of this desire, months after a half-forgotten wish had been expressed by me, came a request by _musical america_ to prepare a series of interviews with the world famed pianists who were visiting our shores, and also with prominent teachers who were making good among us, and who were proving by results attained that they were safe and efficient guides. searching for truth never was an interesting and congenial labor undertaken with more zest. the artists were plied with questions which to them may have seemed prosaic, but which to the interrogator were the very essence of the principles of piano technic and piano mastery. it is not a light task for an artist to sit down and analyze his own methods. some found it almost impossible to put into language their ideas on these subjects. they had so long been concerned with the highest themes of interpretation that they hardly knew how the technical effects were produced, nor could they put the manner of making them into words. they could only say, with rubinstein, "i do it this way," leaving the questioner to divine how and then to give an account of it. however, with questions leading up to the points i was anxious to secure light upon, much information was elicited. one principle was ever before me, namely the truth. i desired to find out the truth about each subject and then endeavored to set down what was said, expressed in the way i felt would convey the most exact meaning. in considering the vital points or heads under which to group the subjects to be considered, the following seem to cover the ground pretty thoroughly: 1. artistic piano technic; how acquired and retained. 2. how to practise. 3. how to memorize. 4. rhythm and tone color in piano playing. section ii _hand position, finger action, and artistic touch_ what technic includes when we listen to a piano recital by a world-famous artist, we think--if we are musicians--primarily of the interpretation of the compositions under consideration. that the pianist has a perfect technic almost goes without saying. he must have such a technic to win recognition as an artist. he would not be an artist without a great technic, without a complete command over the resources of the instrument and over himself. let us use the word technic in its large sense, the sense which includes all that pertains to the executive side of piano playing. it is in this significance that harold bauer calls technic "an art in itself." mme. bloomfield zeisler says: "piano technic includes so much! everything goes into it: arithmetic, grammar, diction, language study, poetry, history and painting. in the first stages there are rules to be learned, just as in any other study. i must know the laws of rhythm and meter to be able to punctuate musical phrases and periods. pupils who have long since passed the arithmetic stage have evidently forgotten all about fractions and division, for they do not seem to grasp the time values of notes and groups of notes used in music; they do not know what must be done with triplets, dotted notes and so on. thus you see technic includes a multitude of things; it is a very wide subject." hand position the first principle a piano teacher shows his pupil is that of hand position. it has been my effort to secure a definite expression on this point from various artists. most of them agree that an arched position with rounded finger joints is the correct one. it was paderewski who said, "show me how the player holds his hands at the piano, and i will tell you what kind of player he is"--showing the polish pianist considers hand position of prime importance. "i hold the hand arched and very firm,"--ernest schelling. "the hand takes an arched position, the finger-tips forming a curve on the keys, the middle finger being placed a little farther in on the key than is natural for the first and fifth."--katharine goodson. "the hand is formed on the keys in its five-finger position, with arched knuckles."--ethel leginska. "the hand is formed in an arched position, with curved fingers, and solidified."--carl roeder. "the hand, in normal playing position, must stand up in well arched form, with fingers well rounded."--thuel burnham. "i first establish an arched hand position, with firm fingers."--edwin hughes. "i teach arched hand position."--alexander lambert. "one must first secure an arched hand, with steady first joints of the fingers."--eleanor spencer. "the first thing to do for a pupil is to see that the hand is in correct position; the knuckles will be somewhat elevated and the fingers properly rounded."--bloomfield zeisler. "a pupil must first form the arch of the hand and secure firm finger joints. i form the hand away from the piano, at a table."--agnes morgan. leschetizky teaches arched hand position, with rounded fingers, and all who have come under his instruction advocate this form. it is the accepted position for passage playing. a few pianists, notably alfred cortôt and tina lerner, play their passage work with flat fingers, but this, in miss lerner's case, is doubtless caused by the small size of the hand. it is clear from the above quotations, and from many other opinions which could be cited, that the authorities agree the hand should be well arched, the end of the finger coming in contact with the key; furthermore there should be no weakness nor giving in at the nail joint. finger action the question of lifting the fingers seems to be one on which various opinions are held. some pianists, like godowsky for instance, will tell you they do not approve of raising the fingers--that the fingers must be kept close to the keys. it is noticeable, however, that even those who do not speak favorably of finger action, use it themselves when playing passages requiring distinctness and clearness. other players are rather hazy on the subject, but these are generally persons who have not gone through the routine of teaching. the accepted idea of the best teachers is that at the beginning of piano study positive finger movements must be acquired; finger action must be so thoroughly grounded that it becomes second nature, a very part of the player, something he can never forget nor get away from. so fixed should it become that no subsequent laxity, caused by the attention being wholly centered on interpretation can disturb correct position, condition, or graceful, plastic movement. "for passage work i insist on finger action; the fingers must be raised and active to insure proper development. i think one certainly needs higher action when practising technic and technical pieces than one would use when playing the same pieces before an audience."--clarence adler. alexander lambert speaks to the point when he says: "i teach decided finger action in the beginning. some teachers may not teach finger action because they say artists do not use it. but the artist, if questioned, would tell you he had to acquire finger action in the beginning. there are so many stages in piano playing. the beginner must raise his fingers in order to acquire finger development and a clear touch. in the middle stage he has secured enough finger control to play the same passages with less action, yet still with sufficient clearness, while in the more or less finished stages the passage may be played with scarcely any perceptible motion, so thoroughly do the fingers respond to every mental requirement." it is this consummate mastery and control of condition and movement that lead the superficial observer to imagine that the great artist gives no thought to such things as position, condition and movements. never was there a greater mistake. the finest perfection of technic has been acquired with painstaking care, with minute attention to exacting detail. at some period of his career, the artist has had to come down to foundation principles and work up. opinions may differ as to the eminence of leschetizky as a teacher, but the fact remains that many of the pianists now before the public have been with him at one time or another. they all testify that the viennese master will have nothing to do with a player until he has gone through a course of rigorous preparation spent solely in finger training, and can play a pair of czerny études with perfect control and effect. artistic touch one of the greatest american teachers of touch was dr. william mason, who made an exhaustive study of this subject. his own touch was noted for its clear, bell-like, elastic quality. he remarked on one occasion, in regard to playing in public: "it is possible i may be so nervous that i can hardly walk to the piano; but once i have begun to play i shall hold the audience still enough to hear a pin drop, simply by the beauty of my touch and tone." dr. mason's touch specialties were "pressure" and "elastic" or "drawing-off" touches. he found these gave both weight and crisp lightness to the tones. mr. tobias matthay, of london, has given much time and thought to the study of touch and key mechanism. he says: "the two chief rules of technic, as regards the key are: always feel how much the key resists you, feel how much the key _wants_ for every note. second, always listen for the moment each sound begins, so that you may learn to direct your effort to the sound only and not to the key bed. it is only by making the hammer end of the key move that you can make a sound. the swifter the movement, the louder the sound. the more gradual the movement the more beautiful the quality of sound. for brilliant tone, you may hit the string by means of the key, but do not, by mistake, hit the key instead." thuel burnham, a pupil of mason and leschetizky, has welded the ideas of these two masters into his own experience, and simplifies the matter of piano touch as follows: melody and coloratura hands "the position and condition of the hand varies according to the character of the music and the quality of tone you wish to produce. if you give out a melody, you want a full, luscious tone, the weight of arm on the key, everything relaxed and a clinging, caressing pressure of finger. here you have the 'melody hand,' with outstretched, flat fingers. on the contrary, if you wish rapid passage work, with clear, bright, articulate touch, the hand must stand up in well-arched, normal playing position, with fingers well rounded and good finger action. here you have the 'technical' or 'coloratura hand.'" the distinction made by mr. burnham clears up the uncertainty about arched hand and articulate touch, or low hand and flat fingers. both are used in their proper place, according to the demands of the music. the player, however, who desires a clean, reliable technic, should first acquire a coloratura hand before attempting a melody hand. section iii _the art of practise_ we have seen that if the pianist hopes to perfect himself in his art he must lay the foundation deep down in the fundamentals of hand position, body condition, correct finger movements and in careful attention to the minutest details of touch and tone production. the remark is often heard, from persons who have just listened to a piano recital: "i would give anything in the world to play like that!" but would they even give the necessary time, to say nothing of the endless patience, tireless energy and indomitable perseverance which go to the making of a virtuoso. how much time does the artist really require for study? paderewski owns to devoting _all_ his time to it during the periods of preparation for his recital tours. at certain seasons of the year most of the artists give a large portion of each day to the work. godowsky is an incessant worker; burnham devotes his entire mornings to piano study; germaine schnitzer gives six hours daily to her work, and if interrupted one day the lost time is soon made up. eleanor spencer "practises all her spare time," as she quaintly puts it. a professional pianist must give a number of hours each day to actual practise at the keyboard, besides what is done away from it. the work is mentally going on continually, whether one really sits at the instrument or not. the point which most concerns us is: how shall one practise so as to make the most of the time and accomplish the best results? what études, if any, shall we use, and what technical material is the most useful and effectual? wilhelm bachaus, whose consummate technic we have so often admired, says: "i am old-fashioned enough to still believe in scales and arpeggios. some of the players of the present day seem to have no use for such things, but i find them of great importance. this does not necessarily mean that i go through the whole set of keys when i practise the scales. i select a few at a time and work at those. i start with ridiculously simple forms--just the thumb under the hand and the hand over the thumb--a few movements each way, but these put the hand in trim for scales and arpeggios. i practise the latter about half an hour a day. i have to overhaul my technic once or twice a week to see that everything is in order. scales and arpeggios come in for their share of criticism. i practise them in various touches, but oftener in _legato_, as that is more difficult and also more beautiful than the others. i practise technic, when possible, an hour a day, including bach." sigismond stojowski considers that scales and arpeggios must form a part of the daily routine. thuel burnham says: "of my practise hours at least one is given to technic, scales, arpeggios, octaves, chords, and bach! i believe in taking one selection of bach and perfecting it--transposing it in all keys and polishing it to the highest point possible. so with études, it is better to perfect a few than to play _at_ so many." the pianist a mechanic edwin hughes, the american pianist and teacher in munich, remarks: "technic is the mechanical part of music making; to keep it in running order one must be constantly tinkering with it, just as the engine driver with his locomotive or the chauffeur with his automobile. every intelligent player recognizes certain exercises as especially beneficial to the mechanical well-being of his playing; from these he will plan his daily schedule of technical practise." teresa carreño asserts she had in the beginning many technical exercises which her teacher wrote out for her, from difficult passages taken from the great composers. there were hundreds of them, so many that it took just three days to go the rounds. she considers them invaluable, and constantly uses them in her own practise and in her teaching. each exercise must be played in all keys and with every possible variety of touch and tone. paderewski gives much time daily to pure technic practise. he has been known to play scales and arpeggios in a single key for three quarters of an hour at a stretch. these were played with every variety of touch, velocity, dynamic shading and so on. it is seen from the instances quoted that many great pianists believe in daily technic practise, or the study of pure technic apart from pieces. many more testify that scales, chords, arpeggios and octaves constitute their daily bread. some have spoken to me especially of octave practise as being eminently beneficial. they feel these things are essential to the acquiring of a fine technic, and keeping it up to concert pitch. some artists are partial to certain technical studies. bachaus highly recommends those of brahms, for instance. all artists use bach in connection with their technic practise; in fact the works of bach may be considered to embody pure technic principles, and pianists and teachers consider them a daily necessity. inventing exercises together with their studies in pure technic alone, the artists invent exercises out of the pieces they study, either by playing passages written for both hands with one hand, by turning single notes into octaves, by using more difficult fingering than necessary, thus bringing into use the weaker fingers, changing the rhythm, and in numerous other ways increasing the effort of performance, so that when the passage is played as originally written, it shall indeed seem like child's play. another means to acquire technical mastery is through transposition. one would think bach's music difficult enough when performed as written, but the artists think nothing of putting it through the different keys. burnham relates that during early lessons with dr. mason, that master gave him a bach invention to prepare, casually remarking it might be well to memorize it. the simple suggestion was more than sufficient, for the ambitious pupil presented himself at the next lesson with not only that particular invention learned by heart, but likewise the whole set! de pachmann, in his eagerness to master the technic and literature of the piano, says that when a bach prelude and fugue was on one occasion assigned him by his teacher, he went home and learned the whole twenty-four, which he was able to play in every key for the next lesson! slow practise the question is often put to artists: "do you deem it necessary to work for velocity, or do you practise the composition much at the required speed?" many pianists practise very slowly. this was william h. sherwood's custom. harold bauer believes velocity to be inherent in the individual, so that when the passage is thoroughly comprehended it can be played at the necessary rate of speed. bachaus testifies he seldom works for velocity, saying that if he masters the passage he can play it at any required tempo. "i never work for velocity as some do," he remarks. "i seldom practise fast, for it interferes with clearness. i prefer to play more slowly, giving the greatest attention to clearness and good tone. by pursuing this course i find that when i need velocity i have it." clarence adler counsels pupils always to begin by practising slowly--faster tempo will develop later, subconsciously. velocity is only to be employed after the piece has been thoroughly learned, every mark of expression observed, all fingering, accents and dynamic marks mastered. "you would scarcely believe," he adds, "how slowly i practise myself." a few exceptions there are very few exceptions to the general verdict in favor of technic practise apart from pieces. godowsky asserts he never practises scales. bauer cares little for pure technic practise, believing the composition itself contains sufficient material of a technical nature. whether or not these brilliant exceptions merely prove the rule, the thoughtful student of the piano must decide for himself. he has already discovered that modern piano playing requires a perfect technic, together with the personal equation of vigorous health, serious purpose and many-sided mentality. mme. rider-possart says: "technic is something an artist has to put in the background as something of secondary importance, yet if he does not possess it he is nowhere." the student will not overlook the fact that to acquire the necessary technical control he must devote time and thought to it outside of piece playing. he must understand the principles and follow out a certain routine in order to secure the best results in the quickest and surest way. while each one must work out his own salvation, it is an encouragement to know that even the greatest artists must toil over their technic, must keep eternally at it, must play slowly, must memorize bit by bit. the difference between the artist and the talented amateur often lies in the former's absolute concentration, perseverance and devotion to the highest ideals. section iv _how to memorize_ at the present stage of pianistic development, an artist does not venture to come before the public and "use his notes." no artist who values his reputation would attempt it. everything must be performed from memory--solos, concertos, even accompaniments. the pianist must know every note of the music he performs. the star accompanist aspires to the same mastery when he plays for a famous singer or instrumentalist. we also have the artist conductor, with opera, symphony or concerto at his finger-tips. hans von bülow, who claimed that a pianist should have more than two hundred compositions in his repertoire, was himself equally at home in orchestral music. he always conducted his meiningen orchestra without notes. let us say, then, that the present-day pianist ought to have about two hundred compositions in his repertoire, all of which must be played without notes. the mere fact of committing to memory such a quantity of pages is no small item in the pianist's equipment. the problem is to discover the best means of memorizing music quickly and surely. here again we are privileged to inquire of the artist and of the artist teacher. his knowledge and experience will be practical, for he has evolved it and proved it over and over again. it is a well-known fact that leschetizky advises memorizing away from the instrument. this method at once shuts the door on all useless and thoughtless repetition employed by so many piano students, who repeat a passage endlessly, to avoid thinking it out. then they wonder why they cannot commit to memory! the viennese master suggests that a short passage of two or four measures be learned with each hand alone, then tried on the piano. if not yet quite fixed in consciousness the effort should be repeated, after which it may be possible to go through the passage without an error. the work then proceeds in the same manner throughout the composition. one year's memorizing a player who gives five or six hours daily to study, and who has learned how to memorize, should be able to commit one page of music each day. this course, systematically pursued, would result in the thorough assimilation of at least fifty compositions in one year. this is really a conservative estimate, though at first glance it may seem rather large. if we cut the figure in half, out of consideration for the accumulative difficulties of the music, there will still remain twenty-five pieces, enough for two programs and a very respectable showing for a year's study. it may be that leschetizky's principle of memorizing will not appeal to every one. the player may find another path to the goal, one more suited to his peculiar temperament. or, if he has not yet discovered the right path, let him try different ways till he hits upon one which will do the work in the shortest and most thorough manner. all masters agree that analysis and concentration are the prime factors in the process of committing music to memory. michael von zadora, pianist and teacher, said to me recently: "suppose you have a difficult passage to learn by heart. the ordinary method of committing to memory is to play the passage over and over, till the fingers grow accustomed to its intervals. that is not my manner of teaching. the only way to master that passage is to analyze it thoroughly, know just what the notes are, the sequences of notes, if you will, their position on the keyboard, the fingering, the positions the hands must take to play these notes, so that you know just where the fingers have to go before you put them on the keys. when you thus thoroughly understand the passage or piece, have thought about it, lived with it, so that it is in the blood, we might say, the fingers can play it. there will be no difficulty about it and no need for senseless repetitions." phrase by phrase most of the artists agree that memorizing must be done phrase by phrase, after the composition has been thoroughly analyzed as to keys, chords, and construction. this is katharine goodson's way, and also eleanor spencer's and ethel leginska's, three of leschetizky's pupils now before the public. "i really know the composition so thoroughly that i can play it in another key just as well as the one in which it is written, though i do not always memorize it each hand alone," says miss goodson. "i first play the composition over a few times to become somewhat familiar with its form and shape," says eleanor spencer, "then i begin to analyze and study it, committing it by phrases, or ideas, one or two measures at a time. i do not always take the hands alone, unless the passage is very intricate, for sometimes it is easier to learn both hands together." germaine schnitzer avers that she keeps at a difficult passage until she really knows it perfectly, no matter how long it takes. "what is the use of going on," she says, "until you are absolutely sure of the work in hand." it is plain from the opinions already cited and from many i have heard expressed that the artists waste no time over useless repetitions. they fully realize that a piece is not assimilated nor learned until it is memorized. when they have selected the composition they wish to learn, they begin at once to memorize from the start. the student does not always bring to his work this definiteness of aim; if he did, much precious time would be saved. the ability to memorize ideas expressed in notes grows with use, just as any other aptitude grows with continued effort. instead, then, of playing _with_ a piece, why do you not at once begin to make it your own? look at the phrases so intently that they become as it were, photographed on your mind. ruskin said: "get the habit of looking intently at words." we might say the same of notes. look at the phrase with the conviction that it can be remembered after a glance or two. it is only an indication of indolence and mental inertness to look continually at the printed page or passage and keep on playing it over and over, without trying to fix it indelibly in the mind. in my work as teacher i constantly meet students, and teachers too, who do little or no memorizing. some do not even approve of it, though it is difficult to conceive how any one in his right mind can disapprove knowing a thing thoroughly. the only way to know it thoroughly is to know it by heart. constant repairs necessary a repertoire once committed must be constantly kept in repair. the public player, in his seasons of study, generally has a regular system of repetition, so that all compositions can be gone over at least once a week. one artist suggests that the week be started with the classics and concluded with modern compositions and concerted numbers. thus each day will have its allotted task. the pieces are not merely to be played over, but really overhauled, and all weak places treated to a dose of slow, careful practise, using the printed pages. artists on tour, where consecutive practise is difficult or unattainable, always carry the printed notes of their repertoire with them, and are ceaselessly studying, repairing, polishing their phrases, thinking out their effects. to those who wish to become pianists, i would say: "keep your memory active through constant use. be always learning by heart; do it systematically, a little at a time. so it will be daily progress. so your repertoire is built!" section v _rhythm and tone color in piano playing_ how shall two such opposites as rhythm and tone color be connected, even in name, some will ask. one belongs to the mechanical side of piano playing, while the other appertains to the ideal, the poetic, the soulful. the two subjects, however, are not so wide apart as might at first appear; for the beauty and variety of the second depends largely upon the mastery of the first. you must play rhythmically before you can play soulfully; you must first be able to keep time before you can attempt to express color and emotion through any fluctuation of rhythm. one depends on the other, therefore time and rhythm come first; when these are well under control, not before, we can go further and enter the wider field of tonal variety. rhythm is one of the pianist's most important assets, something he cannot do without. it might be said that the possession of a well-developed rhythmic sense is one point in which the artist differs greatly from the amateur. the latter thinks nothing of breaking the rhythm at any time and place that suits his fancy; while the artist is usually conscientious about such matters, because his time sense is more highly developed. a perfect time sense is often inherent in the artist, a part of the natural gift which he has cultivated to such a high state of achievement. it may be he has never had any difficulty with this particular point in piano playing, while the amateur has constantly to struggle with problems of time and rhythm. the metronome when the subject of using such a mechanical aid as the metronome to cultivate rhythmic sense, is broached to the executive artist, it does not always meet with an assenting response. with such bred-in-the-bone sense of time as the artist commands, it is little wonder he takes no great interest in mechanical time-beating. josef hofmann's censure of the metronome was probably due to his inborn rhythmic and artistic sense; yet his words have doubtless had their effect on many students, who, lacking his sense of rhythm, would have been greatly benefited by its use. godowsky, when asked his opinion of the metronome, replied: "i assuredly approve of its use; i have even devoted a chapter to the metronome in the _progressive series_, my great work on piano playing." edwin hughes remarks: "if pupils have naturally a poor sense of rhythm, there is no remedy equal to practising with the metronome, using it daily until results are evident, when there can be a judicious letting up of the discipline. the mechanical sense of rhythm, the ability to count and to group the notes of a piece correctly, can be taught to any person, if one has the patience; but for the delicate rhythmic _nuances_ required by a chopin mazourka or a viennese valse, a special rhythmic gift is necessary." artists and teachers who have come under leschetizky's influence and use his principles, are generally in favor of the metronome, according to their own testimony. the fact is, they as teachers often find such deficiency in their pupils on the subject of time sense and accuracy in counting, that they are forced to institute strict measures to counteract this lack of rhythmic comprehension. granting, then, that the correct use, not the abuse, of the metronome is of great assistance in establishing firm rhythmic sense, let us turn our thought to the fascinating subject of-tone color when de pachmann affirmed that he uses certain fingers to create certain effects, the idea was thought to be one of the eccentric pianist's peculiar fancies. other players, however, have had the same thought, and have worked along the same line--the thought that on the fingering used depends the quality of tone. for instance you might not play an expressive melody with a consecutive use of the fifth finger, which is called a "cold finger" by thuel burnham. he would use instead the third, a "warm finger," to give out a soulful melody. tonal variety the pianist who desires to play effectively, must continually strive for variety of tone, for tonal coloring. these can be studied in scales, chords, arpeggios and other technical forms. the singer seeks to make a tone of resonant color, not a straight, flat tone; the pianist, on his part, endeavors to give color and variety to his playing in the same way. harold bauer thinks variety must be secured by the contrast of one tone with another. even a very harsh tone may be beautiful in its right place, owing to its relation to other tones, and its ability to express an idea. to render the playing expressive by the contrast of light and shade, by tonal gradations, by all varieties of touch, by all the subtleties of _nuance_, is a great art, and only the most gifted ever master it in its perfection. these are the things that enchant us in paderewski's performance, and in the tonal coloring of gabrilowitsch. hofmann's playing is a marvel of atmosphere and color; such playing is an object lesson to students, a lesson in variety of light and shade, the shifting of exquisite tonal tints. the sensitive musician is highly susceptible to color effects in nature, in art or in objects about him. certain colors attract him, for he sees an affinity between them and the tonal effects he strives to produce. other colors repel, perhaps for the opposite reason. brilliant red is a warlike color, and finds analogous expression in such pieces as chopin's polonaise _militaire_, and macdowell's polonaise. we cannot help seeing, feeling the color red, when playing such music. soft pink and rose for love music, tender blues and shades of gray for nocturnes and night pieces are some of the affinities of tone and color. warm shades of yellow and golden brown suggest an atmosphere of early autumn, while delicate or vivid greens give thoughts of spring and luscious summer. certain pieces of mozart seem to bring before us the rich greens of a summer landscape; the fantaisie in c minor, and the pastorale varie are of this type. arthur hochman says: "colors mean so much to me; some are so beautiful, the various shades of red for instance, then the golden yellows, rich warm browns, and liquid blues. we can make as wonderful combinations in tone color as ever painter put upon canvas. to me dark red speaks of something tender, heart-searching, mysterious. on the other hand the shades of yellow express gaiety and brightness." it has been said that a pianist should study color effects in order to express them in his playing. he can do this to special advantage at the theater or opera, where he can see unrolled before him the greatest possible variety in light and shade, in colors, and in the constantly changing panorama of action and emotion. the pianist can receive many ideas of tone color when listening to a great singer, and watching the infinite tonal gradations produced on the "greatest of all instruments," the human voice. in short the pianist draws from many sources the experience, the feeling and emotion with which he strives to inspire the tones he evokes from his instrument. the keener his perceptions, the more he labors, suffers, and _lives_, the more he will be able to express through his chosen medium--the piano! note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 28026-h.htm or 28026-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/8/0/2/28026/28026-h/28026-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/8/0/2/28026/28026-h.zip) +------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note | | | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected in | | this text. for a complete list, please see the bottom of | | this document. | | | | quotation marks have been left in this text as they were | | in the original. some are unmatched. | +------------------------------------------------------------+ great pianists on piano playing study talks with foremost virtuosos by james francis cooke a series of personal educational conferences with renowned masters of the keyboard, presenting the most modern ideas upon the subjects of technic, interpretation, style and expression [illustration] theo. presser co. philadelphia, pa. copyright, 1913, by theo. presser co. international copyright secured contents page 1. the artist's life 5 2. are pianists born or made? 24 3. the story of a wonder-child _pepito arriola_ 41 4. the pianist of to-morrow _wilhelm bachaus_ 52 5. artistic aspects of piano study _harold bauer_ 64 6. appearing in public _fannie bloomfield-zeisler_ 80 7. important details in piano study _ferruccio busoni_ 97 8. distinctive piano playing _teresa carreño_ 109 9. essentials of touch _ossip gabrilowitsch_ 122 10. the real significance of technic _leopold godowsky_ 133 11. analyzing masterpieces _katharine goodson_ 144 12. progress in piano study _josef hofmann_ 158 13. piano study in russia _josef lhévinne_ 170 14. seeking originality _vladimir de pachmann_ 182 15. modern pianistic problems _max pauer_ 197 16. essentials of artistic playing _s. v. rachmaninoff_ 208 17. systematic musical training _a. reisenauer_ 222 18. the training of the virtuoso _e. sauer_ 236 19. economy in music study _x. scharwenka_ 252 20. learning a new piece _e. schelling_ 267 21. what interpretation really is _s. stojowski_ 279 i the artist's life the virtuoso's career as it really is the father of a young woman who was preparing to become a virtuoso once applied to a famous musical educator for advice regarding the future career of his daughter. "i want her to become one of the greatest pianists america has ever produced," he said. "she has talent, good health, unlimited ambition, a good general education, and she is industrious." the educator thought for awhile, and then said, "it is very likely that your daughter will be successful in her chosen field, but the amount of grinding study she will be obliged to undergo to meet the towering standards of modern pianism is awful to contemplate. in the end she will have the flattery of the multitude, and, let us hope, some of their dollars as well. in return, she may have to sacrifice many of the comforts and pleasures which women covet. the more successful she is, the more of a nomad she must become. she will know but few days for years when she will not be compelled to practice for hours. she becomes a kind of chattel of the musical public. she will be harassed by ignorant critics and perhaps annoyed by unreliable managers. in return she has money and fame, but, in fact, far less of the great joy and purpose of life than if she followed the customary domestic career with some splendid man as her husband. when i was younger i used to preach quite an opposite sermon, but the more i see of the hardships of the artist's life the less i think of the dollars and the fame it brings. it is hard enough for a man, but it is twice as hard for a woman." golden bait some cynic has contended that the much-despised "almighty dollar" has been the greatest incentive to the struggling virtuoso in european music centers. although this may be true in a number of cases, it is certainly unjust in others. many of the virtuosos find travel in america so distasteful that notwithstanding the huge golden bait, the managers have the greatest difficulty in inducing the pianists to come back. indeed, there are many artists of great renown whom the managers would be glad to coax to our country but who have withheld tempting offers for years. one of these is moritz moszkowski, probably the most popular of modern pianoforte composers of high-class music. grieg, when he finally consented to make the voyage to america, placed his price at two thousand five hundred dollars for every concert--a sum which any manager would regard prohibitive, except in the case of one world-famous pianist. grieg's intent was obvious. the inconveniences of travel in america have been ridiculously exaggerated in europe, and many virtuosos dread the thought of an american trip, with the great ocean yawning between the two continents, and red-skinned savages just beyond new york or certainly not far from chicago. de pachmann detests the ocean, and when he comes over in his favorite month of june he does not dare return until the following june. others who have never visited america must get their idea of american travel from some such account as that of charles dickens in his unforgivable _american notes_ (1842), in which he said, in describing one of our railroads: "there is a great deal of jolting, a great deal of noise, a great deal of wall, not much window, a locomotive engine, a shriek and a bell. the cars are like shabby omnibuses holding thirty, forty, fifty people. in the centre of the carriage there is usually a stove, fed with charcoal or anthracite coal, which is for the most part red hot. it is insufferably close, and you see the hot air fluttering between yourself and any other object you may happen to look at." there could have been but little improvement in our railroads in 1872 when rubinstein came to america, for although he accepted $40,000 for 215 concerts during his first trip, he refused an offer of $125,000 for only 50 concerts when a manager tried to persuade him to return. american railroads now present the acme of comfort, convenience, and even luxury in travel, yet the european artist has difficulty in adjusting himself to journeys of thousands of miles crowded in a short winter season when he has been accustomed to little trips of a few hundred kilometers. he comes to dread the trains as we might a prison van. paderewski resorts to a private car, but even this luxurious mode of travel may be very monotonous and exhausting. the great distances must certainly account for some of the evidences of strain which deform the faces and exhaust the minds of so many virtuosos. the traveling salesman seems to thrive upon miles of railroad travel as do the crews of the trains, but the virtuoso, dragged from concert to concert by his showman, grows tired--oh, so tired, pale, wan, listless and indifferent! at the beginning of the season he is quite another person. the magnetism that has done so much to win him fame shines in his eyes and seems to emanate from his finger-tips, but the difference in his physical being at the end of the season is sickening. like a bedraggled, worn-out circus coming in from the wear and tear of a hard season, he crawls wearily back to new york with a cinematographic recollection of countless telegraph poles flying past the windows, audience after audience, sleeping cars, budding geniuses, the inevitable receptions with their equally inevitable chicken salad or lukewarm oysters, and the "sweet young things," who, like heine's mythical tribe of _asra_, must love or perish. some virtuosos have the physical strength to endure all this, even enjoy it, but many have confessed to me that their american tours have been literal nightmares. one of the greatest pianists was obliged to stay in new york for a while before attempting the voyage homeward. at the time he was so weak from the rigors of the tour that he could scarcely write his name. his haggard face suggested the tortures of a torquamada rather than buffalo, kansas city, denver and pittsburgh. his voice was tired and faltering, and his chief interest was that of the invalid--getting home as soon as possible. to have talked with him upon music at that time would have been an injustice. accordingly, i led him away from the subject and dwelt upon the woes of his native poland, and, much to his surprise, left him without the educational material of which i had been in quest. he asked the reason, and i told him that a musical conference at that time could serve no purpose. as men and women, aside from the attainments which have made them illustrious, virtuosos are for the most part very much like ordinary mortals who have to content themselves at the foot of parnassus. it has been my privilege to know thirty or more of the most eminent artists, and some have become good personal friends. it is interesting to observe how several very different types of individuals may succeed in winning public favor as virtuosos. indeed, except for the long-haired caricature which the public accepts as the conventional virtuoso there is no "virtuoso type." here is a business man, here an artist, here an engineer, here a jurist, here an actor, here a poet and here a freak, all of them distinguished performers. perhaps the enthusiastic music-lover will resent the idea of a freak becoming famous as a pianist, but i have known no less than three men who could not possibly be otherwise described, but who have nevertheless made both fame and fortune as virtuosos. freak pianists the anthropologist who chooses to conduct special investigations of freaks can find no more entertaining field than that of the remarkable freaks of the brain, shown in the cases of some astonishing performers whose intelligence and mental capacity in other ways has been negligible. the classic case of blind tom, for instance, was that of a freak not so very far removed in kind from the siamese twins, or general tom thumb. born a slave in georgia, and wholly without what teachers would term a musical education, blind tom amazed many of the most conservative musicians of his time. it was possible for him to repeat difficult compositions after hearing them played only once. i conversed with him a number of years ago in new york, only to find that intellectually and physically he was allied to the _cretin_. blind tom's peculiar ability has led many hasty commentators to conclude that music is a wholly separate mental faculty to be found particularly in a more or less shiftless and irresponsible class of gifted but intellectually limited human beings. the few cases of men and women whose musical talent seems to eclipse their minds so that they remain in utter darkness to everything else in life, should not be taken as a basis for judging other artists of real genius and undisputed mental breadth. i have in mind, however, the case of one pianist who is very widely known and highly lauded, but who is very slightly removed from the class of blind tom. a trained alienist, one acquainted with the difference between the eccentricities which frequently accompany greatness and the unconscious physical and psychical evidences of idiocy which so clearly agree with the antics of the chimpanzee or the droll capuchin monkeys, might find in the performer to whom i refer a subject for some very interesting, not to say startling reflections. few have ever been successful in inducing this pianist to talk upon any other subject than music for more than a few minutes at a time. another pianist, who was distinguished as a liszt pupil, and who toured america repeatedly, seemed to have a hatred for the piano that amounted to an obsession. "look," he exclaimed, "i am its slave. it has sent me round and round the world, night after night, year after year. it has cursed me like a wandering jew. no rest, no home, no liberty. do you wonder that i drink to forget it?" a pathetic example and drink he did in bacchanalian measure! one time he gave an unconscious exhibition of his technical ability that, while regrettable, would have been of immense interest to psychologists who are seeking to prove that music depends upon a separate operation of a special "faculty." during his american tours i called frequently upon this virtuoso for the purpose of investigating his method of playing. he was rarely free from the influence of alcohol for more than a few hours at a time. one morning it was necessary for me to see him professionally, and when i found him at his hotel he was in a truly disgraceful condition. i remember that he was unable to stand, from the fact that he fell upon me while i was sitting in a morris chair. he was barely able to talk, and just prior to my leaving he insisted upon scrawling upon his visiting card, "zur freundlichen errinerung, auf einen sehr späten abend." (friendly remembrances of a very late evening.) since it was still very early in the morning, it may be realized that he had lost all idea of his whereabouts. nevertheless, he sat at the piano keyboard and played tremendously difficult compositions by liszt and brahms--compositions which compelled his hands to leap from one part of the keyboard to the other as in the case of the liszt _campanella_. he never missed a note until he lost his balance upon the piano stool and fell to the floor. disgusting and pathetic as the exhibition was, i could not help feeling that i was witnessing a marvelous instance of automatism, that wonderful power of the mind working through the body to reproduce, apparently without effort or thought, operations which have been repeated so many times that they have become "second nature." more than this, it indicated clearly that while the better part of the man's body was "dead to the world," the faculty he had cultivated to the highest extent still remained alive. some years later this man succumbed to alcoholism. the pianist of to-day contrasted with a type of this kind may be mentioned such men as sauer, rachmaninov, d'albert, paderewski, godowsky, bachaus, rosenthal, pauer, joseffy, stojowski, scharwenka, gabrilowitsch, hofmann, bauer, lhévinne, to say nothing of the ladies, bloomfield-zeisler, carreño, goodson, _et al._, many of whom are intellectual giants. most all are exceedingly regular in their habits, and at least two are strong temperance advocates. intellectually, pianists of this class represent a very remarkable kind of mentality. one is impressed with the surprising quickness with which their brains operate even in ordinary conversation. speaking in alien languages, they find comparatively little difficulty in expressing themselves with rapidity and fluency. very few great singers ever acquire a similar ease. these pianists are wonderfully well read, many being acquainted with the literature of three or more tongues in the original. indeed, it is not unusual to find them skipping through several languages during ordinary conversation without realizing that they are performing linguistic feats that would put the average college graduate to shame. they are familiar with art, science, politics, manufactures, even in their most recent developments. "what is your favorite type of aëroplane?" asked one some years ago in the kindergarten days of cloud navigation. i told him that i had made no choice, since i had never seen a flying machine, despite the fact that i was a native of the country that gave it birth. he then vouchsafed his opinions and entered into a physical and mechanical discussion of the matter, indicating that he had spent hours in getting the whole subject straightened out in his mind. this same man, a german, knew whole cantos of the _inferno_ by heart, and could repeat long scenes from _king lear_ with a very creditable english accent. the average american "tired business man" who is inclined to look upon the touring virtuoso as "only a pianist" would be immensely surprised if he were called upon to compare his store of "universal" information with that of the performer. he would soon see that his long close confinement behind the bars of the dollar sign had made him the intellectual inferior of the musician he almost ignores. but it is hardly fair to compare these famous interpreters with the average "tired business man." they are the cecil rhodes, the thomas edisons, the maurice maeterlincks of their fields. it is easy enough to find musicians of smaller life opportunities basking in their ignorance and conceit. while the virtuoso may be described as intellectual in the broader sense of the term, he usually has a great fear of becoming academic. he aspires to be artistic rather than scholarly. he strives to elevate rather than to teach--in the strictly pedagogical sense. some of the greatest performers have been notoriously weak as teachers. they do not seek the walls of the college, neither do they long for the cheap _bohemianism_ that so many of the french feuilletonists delight in describing. (why should the immorality of the artist's life be laid at the doors of fair bohemia?) the artist's life is wrapped up in making his readings of master works more significant, more eloquent, more beautiful. he is interested in everything that contributes to his artistry, whether it be literature, science, history, art or the technic of his own interpretative development. he penetrates the various mystic problems which surround piano playing by the infallible process of persistent study and reflection. the psychical phase of his work interests him immensely, particularly the phenomena of personal attraction--often called magnetism. the magic of magnetism magnetism is surely one of the most enviable possessions of the successful pianist. just what magnetism is and how it comes to be, few psychologists attempt to relate. we all have our theories, just why one pianist who often blunders as readily as a rubinstein, or who displays his many shortcomings at every concert can invariably draw larger audiences and arouse more applause than his confrère with weaker vital forces, although he be admittedly a better technician, a more highly educated gentleman and perhaps a more sensitive musician. charles frohman, keenest of theatrical producers, attributed the actor's success to "vitality," and in doing this he merely chose one of the weaker synonyms of magnetism. vitality in this sense does not imply great bodily strength. it is rather soul-strength, mind-strength, life-strength. professor john d. quackenbos, a.m., m.d., formerly of columbia university, essays the following definition of magnetism in his excellent _hypnotic therapeutics_: "magnetism is nothing more than earnestness and sincerity, coupled with insight, sympathy, patience and tact. these essentials cannot be bought and cannot be taught. they are 'born by nature,' they are dyed with 'the red ripe of the heart.'" but dr. quackenbos is a physician and a philosopher. had he been a lexicographer he would have found the term magnetism far more inclusive. he would at least have admitted the phenomenon which we have witnessed so often when one possessed with volcanic vitality overwhelms a great audience. the old idea that magnetism is a kind of invisible form of intellectual or psychic electricity has gone down the grotesque phrenological vagaries of gall as well as some of the pseudoscientific theories of that very unusual man, mesmer. we all possess what is known as magnetism. some have it in an unusual degree, as did edwin booth, franz liszt, phillips brooks and bismarck. it was surely neither the art nor the ability of daniel webster that made his audiences accept some of his fatuous platitudes as great utterances, nor was it the histrionic talent alone of richard mansfield that enabled him to wring success from such an obvious theatrical contraption as _prince karl_. both webster, with his fathomless eyes and his ponderous voice, and mansfield, with his compelling personality, were exceptional examples of magnetism. a notable example among virtuosos paderewski is peculiarly forceful in the personal spell he casts over his audience. someone has said that it cost one hundred thousand dollars to exploit his hair before he made his first american tour. but it was by no means curiosity to see his hair which kept on filling auditorium after auditorium. i attended his first concert in new york, and was amazed to see a comparatively small gathering of musical zealots. his command of the audience was at once imperial. the critics, some of whom would have found paderewski's hirsute crown a delightful rack upon which to hang their ridicule, went into ecstasies instead. his art and his striking personality, entirely apart from his appearance, soon made him the greatest concert attraction in the musical world. anyone who has conversed with him for more than a few moments realizes what the meaning of the word magnetism is. his entire bearing--his lofty attitude of mind, his personal dignity all contribute to the inexplicable attraction that the arch hypnotist mesmer first described as animal magnetism. that magnetism of the pianist must be considered wholly apart from personal beauty and great physical strength is obvious to anyone who has given the subject a moment's thought. many of the artists already mentioned (in this book) who possess magnetism similar to that of paderewski could surely never make claim for personal beauty. neither is magnetism akin to that attraction we all experience when we see a powerful, well-groomed horse, a sleek hound, a handsome tiger--that is, it is not mere admiration for a beautiful animal. whether it has any similarity to the mysterious charm which makes the doomed bird lose control of its wings upon the approach of a snake is difficult to estimate. certainly, in the paraphernalia of the modern recital with its lowered lights and its solitary figure playing away at a polished instrument one may find something of the physical apparatus employed by the professional hypnotist to insure concentration--but even this can not account for the pianist's real attractiveness. if mr. frohman's "vitality" means the "vital spark," the "life element," it comes very close to a true definition of magnetism, for success without this precious promethean force is inconceivable. it may be only a smouldering ember in the soul of a dying chopin, but if it is there it is irresistible until it becomes extinct. facial beauty and physical prowess all made way for the kind of magnetism that socrates, george sand, julius cæsar, henry viii, paganini, emerson, dean swift or richard wagner possessed. more wonderful still is the fact that magnetism is by no means confined to those who have finely trained intellects or who have achieved great reputations. some vaudeville buffoon or some gypsy fiddler may have more attractive power than the virtuoso who had spent years in developing his mind and his technic. the average virtuoso thinks far more of his "geist," his "talent" (or as emerson would have it, "the shadow of the soul--the otherwise") than he does of his technic, or his cadenzas. by what mystic means magnetism may be developed, the writer does not pretend to know. possibly by placing one's deeper self (shall we say "subconscious self") in closer communion with the great throbbing problems of the invisible though perpetually evident forces of nature which surround us we may become more alive, more sensitively vivified. what would it mean to the young virtuoso if he could go to some occult master, some seer of a higher thought, and acquire that lode-stone* which has drawn fame and fortune to the blessed few? hundreds have spent fortunes upon charlatans in the attempt. all artists know the part that the audience itself plays in falling under the magnetic spell of the performer. its connection with the phenomena of autosuggestion is very clear. dr. wundt, the famous german psychologist, showed a class of students how superstitions unconsciously acquired in early life affect sensible adults who have long since passed the stage at which they might put any credence in omens. at a concert given by a famous player, the audience has been well schooled in anticipation. the artist always appears under a halo his reputation has made for him. this very reputation makes his conquest far easier than that of the novice who has to prove his ability before he can win the sympathy of the audience. he is far more likely to find the audience _en rapport_ than indifferent. sometime, at the play in a theater, watch how the audience will unconsciously mirror the facial expressions of the forceful actor. in some similar manner, the virtuoso on the concert platform sensitizes the minds and emotions of the sympathetic audience. if the effect is deep and lasting, the artist is said to possess that kohinoor of virtuosodom--magnetism. some widely read critics have made the very natural error of confounding magnetism with personality. these words have quite different connotations--personality comprehending the more subtle force of magnetism. an artist's individual worth is very closely allied with his personality--that is, his whole extrinsic attitude toward the thought and action of the world about him. how important personality is may be judged by the widely advertised efforts of the manufacturers of piano-playing machines to convince the public that their products, often astonishingly fine, do actually reproduce the individual effects which come from the playing of the living artist. piano-playing machines have their place, and it is an important one. however, wonderful as they may be, they can never be anything but machines. they bring unquestioned joy to thousands, and they act as missionaries for both music and the music-teacher by taking the art into countless homes where it might otherwise never have penetrated, thus creating the foundation for a strong desire for a thorough study of music. the piano-playing machine may easily boast of a mechanism as wonderful as that of a liszt, a d'albert or a bachaus, but it can no more claim personality than the typewriter upon which this article is being written can claim to reproduce the individuality which characterizes the handwriting of myriads of different persons. personality, then, is the virtuoso's one great unassailable stronghold. it is personality that makes us want to hear a half dozen different renderings of a single beethoven sonata by a half dozen different pianists. each has the charm and flavor of the interpreter. but personality in its relation to art has been so exquisitely defined by the inimitable british essayist, a. c. benson, that we can do no better than to quote his words: "i have lately come to perceive that the one thing which gives value to any piece of art, whether it be book, or picture, or music, is that subtle and evasive thing which is called personality. no amount of labor, of zest, even of accomplishment, can make up for the absence of this quality. it must be an almost instinctive thing, i believe. of course, the mere presence of personality in a work of art is not sufficient, because the personality revealed may be lacking in charm; and charm, again, is an instinctive thing. no artist can set out to capture charm; he will toil all the night and take nothing; but what every artist can and must aim at is to have a perfectly sincere point of view. he must take his chance as to whether his point of view is an attractive one; but sincerity is the one indispensable thing. it is useless to take opinions on trust, to retail them, to adopt them; they must be formed, created, felt. the work of a sincere artist is almost certain to have some value; the work of an insincere artist is of its very nature worthless." mr. benson's "charm" is what the virtuoso feels as magnetism. it puts something into the artist's playing that he cannot define. for a moment the vital spark flares into a bewildering flame, and all his world is peopled with moths hovering around the "divine fire." the greatest thing of all if we have dwelt too long upon magnetism, those who know its importance in the artist's life will readily perceive the reason. but do not let us be led away into thinking that magnetism can take the place of hard work. even the tiny prodigy has a career of work behind him, and the master pianist has often climbed to his position over _matterhorns_ and _mt. blancs_ of industry. days of practice, months of study, years of struggle are part of the biography of almost every one who has attained real greatness. what a pity to destroy time-old illusions! some prefer to think of their artist heroes dreaming their lives away in the hectic cafés of pesth or buried in the melancholy, absinthe and paresis of some morbid cabaret of paris. as a matter of fact, the best known pianists live a totally different life--a life of grind, grind, grind--incessant study, endless practice and ceaseless search for means to raise their artistic standing. in some quiet country villa, miles away from the center of unlicensed bacchanalian revels, the virtuoso may be found working hard upon next season's repertoire. after all, the greatest thing in the artist's life is w-o-r-k. ii are pianists born or made? some years ago the director of the leipsic conservatorium gave the writer a complete record of the number of graduates of the conservatory from the founding to the late nineties. of the thousands of students who had passed through the institution only a few had gained wide prominence. hardly one student in one hundred had won his way into the most voluminous of the musical biographical dictionaries. the proportion of distinguished graduates to those who fail to gain renown is very high at leipsic compared with many other institutions. what becomes of the thousands of students all working frantically with the hope of becoming famous pianists? surely, so much earnest effort can not be wasted even though all can not win the race? those who often convince themselves that they have failed go on to perform a more useful service to society than the laurel-crowned virtuoso. unheralded and unapplauded, they become the teachers, the true missionaries of _frau musik_ to the people. what is it then, which promotes a few "fortunate" ones from the armies of students all over america and europe and makes of them great virtuosos? what must one do to become a virtuoso? how long must one study before one may make a _début_? what does a great virtuoso receive for his performances? how long does the virtuoso practice each day? what exercises does he use? all these and many more similar questions crop up regularly in the offices of music critics and in the studios of teachers. unfortunately, a definite answer can be given to none, although a great deal may be learned by reviewing some of the experiences of one who became great. some virtuosos actually seem to be born with the heavenly gift. many indeed are sons and daughters of parents who see their own demolished dreams realized in the triumphs of their children. when little nathan creeps to the piano and quite without the help of his elders picks out the song he has heard his mother sing,--all the neighbors in odessa know it the next day. "a wonder child perhaps!" oh happy augury of fame and fortune! little nathan shall have the best of instruction. his mother will teach him at first, of course. she will shape his little fingers to the keyboard. she will sing sweet folk melodies in his ear,--songs of labor, struggle, exile. she will count laboriously day after day until he "plays in time." all the while the little mother sees far beyond the ghetto,--out into the great world,--grand auditoriums, breathless crowds, countless lights, nobles granting trinkets, bravos from a thousand throats, nathan surrounded by endless wreaths of laurel,--oh, it is all too much,--"nathan! nathan! you are playing far too fast. one, two, three, four,--one, two, three, four,--there, that is the tempo clementi would have had it. fine! some day, nathan, you will be a great pianist and--" etc., etc. nathan next goes to the great teacher. he is already eight years old and fairly leaping out of his mother's arms. two years with the teacher and nathan is probably ready for a _début_ as a wonder child. the critics are kind. if his parents are very poor nathan may go from town to town for awhile being exhibited like a trained poodle or a tiny acrobat. the further he gets from home the more severe his critics become, and nathan and his mother hurry back to the old teachers, who tell them that nathan must still practice long and hard as well as do something to build up his general education. the world in these days looks askance at the musician who aside from his keyboard accomplishments is a numskull. more sacrifice for nathan's mother and father,--but what are poverty and deprivation with such a goal in sight? nathan studies for some years in the schools and in the high schools as well as at the conservatory. in the music school he will doubtless spend six years in all,--two years in the post-graduate or master classes, following the regular four-year course. when sufficiently capable he will take a few pupils at a kopeck or so per lesson to help out with the family expenses. nathan graduates from the conservatory with high honors. will the public now receive him as a great pianist? a concert is planned and nathan plays. day and night for years his whole family have been looking forward to that concert. let us concede that the concert is a triumph. does he find fame and fortune waiting for him next morning? no indeed,--there are a thousand nathans all equally accomplished. again he must work and again he must concertize. perhaps after years of strife a manager may approach him some day with a contract. lucky nathan,--have you not a thousand brothers who may never see a contract? then,--"can it be possible nathan,--is it really america,--america the virtuoso's golconda!" nathan makes a glorious _tournée_. perhaps the little mother goes with him. more likely she stays at home in odessa waiting with glistening eyes for each incoming mail. pupils come to nathan and he charges for each lesson a sum equaling his father's former weekly wage. away with the ghetto! away with poverty! away with oblivion! nathan is a real virtuoso,--a veritable _meister_! the american virtuoso of to-day how does the american aspirant compete with nathan? are there not as fine teachers here in america as in europe? is it really necessary to go to europe to "finish" one's musical education? can one not become a virtuoso in america?--more questions with which editors and teachers are constantly plied. can one who for years has waged a battle for the american teacher and american musical education answer this question without bias? can we who trace the roots of our lineage back to barren plymouth or stolid new netherland judge the question fairly and honestly? one case suffices to show the road which the american virtuoso is likely to travel. she is still a young woman, in her twenties. among her teachers was one who ranks among the very best in america. her general education was excellent,--in fact far superior to that of the average young lady of good family in continental europe. while in her early teens she became the leading feature at conservatory concerts. her teacher won many a profitable pupil through her brilliant playing. she studies, as do so many american pupils, without making a regular business of it. compared with the six year all day, week in and week out course which nathan pursued in odessa our little compatriot was at a decided disadvantage. but who ever heard of a music student making a regular business of learning the profession as would a doctor or a lawyer? have not students contented themselves with two lessons a week since time immemorial? need we go further to discover one of the flaws in our own educational system,--a flaw that is not due to the teacher or to the methods of instruction, but rather to our time-old custom. two lessons a week are adequate for the student who does not aspire to become a professional, but altogether insufficient for the student who must accomplish a vast amount of work in a comparatively small number of years. she requires constant advice, regular daily instruction and careful attention under experienced instructors. teachers are not to be blamed if she does not receive this kind of attention, as there are abundant opportunities now in america to receive systematic training under teachers as thorough, as able and as inspiring as may be found in europe. the excuse that the expense is greater in america falls when we learn the very high prices charged by leading teachers in germany, austria and france. to go back to our particular case, the young lady is informed at the end of a course of two or three lessons a week during two or three years, that she is a full-fledged virtuoso and may now enter the concert field to compete with carreño, bloomfield-zeisler or goodson. her playing is obviously superior to that of her contemporary students. someone insists upon a short course of study abroad,--not because it is necessary, but because it might add to her reputation and make her first flights in the american concert field more spectacular. accordingly she goes to europe, only to find that she is literally surrounded by budding virtuosos,--an army of nathans, any one of whom might easily eclipse her. against her personal charm, her new-world vigor, her yankee smartness, nathan places his years of systematic training, his soul saturated in the music and art of past centuries of european endeavor and perhaps his youth of poverty which makes success imperative. the young lady's european teacher frankly tells her that while her playing is delightful for the salon or parlor she will never do for the great concert hall. she must learn to play with more power, more virility, more character. accordingly he sets her at work along special muscle-building, tone-cultivating, speed-making lines of technic in order to make up for the lack of the training which the young lady might easily have had at home had her parents been schooled to systematic daily study as a necessity. her first technical exercises with the new teacher are so simple that the young woman is on the verge of despair until she realizes that her playing is really taking on a new and more mature character. she has been lifting fifty pound weights occasionally. her teacher is training her to lift one hundred pound weights every day. she has been sketching in pastels,--her teacher is now teaching her how to make velasquez-like strokes in oils. her gain is not a mere matter of loudness. she could play quite as loud before she went to europe. there is something mature in this new style of playing, something that resembles the playing of the other virtuosos she has heard. who is the great european master who is working such great wonders for her? none other than a celebrated teacher who taught for years in america,--a master no better than dozens of others in america right now. can the teachers in america be blamed if the parents and the pupils fail to make as serious and continued an effort here? atmosphere,--bosh! work, long, hard and unrelenting,--that is the salvation of the student who would become a virtuoso. with our increasing wealth and advancing culture american parents are beginning to discover that given the same work and the same amount of instruction musical education in america differs very slightly from musical education abroad. but we are deserting our young virtuoso most ungallantly. in berlin she hears so many concerts and recitals, so many different styles of playing, that she begins to think for herself and her sense of artistic discrimination--interpretation, if you will--becomes more and more acute. provided with funds for attending concerts, she does regularly, whereas in america she neglected opportunities equally good. she never realized before that there could be so much to a brahms _intermezzo_ or a chopin _ballade_. at the end of her first year her american common-sense tells her that a plunge into the concert field is still dangerous. accordingly she remains two, or possibly three, more years and at the end if she has worked hard she is convinced that with proper management she may stand some chance of winning that fickle treasure, public favor. "but," persists the reader, "it would have been possible for her to have accomplished the same work at home in america." most certainly, if she had had any one of the hundred or more virtuoso teachers now resident in the united states all of whom are capable of bringing a highly talented pupil to virtuoso heights,--and if in their teaching they had exerted sufficient will-power to demand from the pupil and the pupil's parents the same conditions which would govern the work of the same pupil studying in europe. through long tradition and by means of endless experiences the conditions have been established in europe. the student who aspires to become a professional is given a distinctively professional course. in america the need for such a training is but scantily appreciated. only a very few of us are able to appraise the real importance of music in the advancement of human civilization, nor is this unusual, since most of us have but to go back but a very few generations to encounter our blessed puritan and quaker ancestors to whom all music, barring the lugubrious psalm singing, was the inspiration of the devil. the teachers, as has been said before, are fully ready and more than anxious to give the kind of training required. very frequently parents are themselves to blame for the slender _dilettante_ style of playing which their well-instructed children present. they measure the needs of the concert hall by the dimensions of the parlor. the teacher of the would-be professional pupil aspires to produce a quantity of tone that will fill an auditorium seating at least one thousand people. the pupil at home is enjoined not to "bang" or "pound." the result is a feeble, characterless tone which rarely fills an auditorium as it should. the actor can not forever rehearse in whispers if he is to fill a huge theater, and the concert pianist must have a strong, sure, resilient touch in order to bring about climaxes and make the range of his dynamic power all-comprehensive. indeed, the separation from home ties, or shall we call them home interferences, is often more responsible for the results achieved abroad than superior instruction. unfortunately, the number of virtuosos who have been taught exclusively in america is really very small. it is not a question of ability upon the part of the teacher or talent upon the part of the pupil. it is entirely a matter of the attitudes of the teacher, the pupil and the pupil's home advisers. success demands strong-willed discipline and the most lofty standards imaginable. teachers who have taught for years in america have returned to europe, doubled and quadrupled their fees, and, under old-world surroundings and with more rigid standards of artistic work, have produced results they declare would have been impossible in america. the author contends that these results would have been readily forthcoming if we in america assumed the same earnest, persistent attitude toward the work itself. if these words do no more than reach the eyes of some of those who are advising students wrongly in this matter they will not have been written in vain. the european concert triumphs of mrs. h. h. a. beach, whose training was received wholly in the united states, is an indication of what may be achieved in america if the right course is pursued. conditions are changing rapidly in our country, particularly in the wonderful west and middle-west. it seems likely that many pianists without foreign instruction of any kind will have as great success in our concert field as have many of our best opera singers who have never had a lesson "on the other side." our little pianist has again been playing truant from our manuscript. let us see what happens to her when she finished her work with the famous teacher abroad. surely the making of a virtuoso is an expensive matter. let us take the estimate of the young pianist's father, who practically mortgaged his financial existence to give his daughter the right musical training. lessons with first teacher at $1.00 a lesson. eighty lessons a year for four years $240.00 lessons with second american teacher for two years at $2.00 a lesson 320.00 lessons with third american teacher at $4.00 a lesson for one year and six months 480.00 music, books, etc. 160.00 piano 750.00 maintenance for eight years at $200.00 a year (minimum estimate) 1600.00 four years in europe, travel, board, instruction, advertising, etc. 6000.00 ________ total $9550.00 but the expense has only begun, if you please. the harvest is still a long way off. according to the fine traditions established by the late p. t. barnum, there must be a european furore to precede the american advent of the musical star. the journalistic astronomers must point their telescopes long and steadily at the european firmament and proclaim their discovery in the columns of their papers. again, furores are expensive. one must hire an auditorium, hire an orchestra, and, according to some very frank and disgusted young virtuosos who have failed to succeed, hire a critic or so like the amusing trotter in _fanny's first play_. what with three and four concerts a night why should not the critics have a _pourboire_ for extra critical attention? fortunately the best papers hold their criticisms above price. bought criticisms are very rare, and if the young pianist or any representative approaches certain critics with any such suggestion, she may count upon faring very badly in cold type on the following day. if miss virtuoso makes a success, her press notices are sent to her american concert managers, who purchase space in some american musical newspapers and reprint these notices. publicity of this kind is legitimate, as the american public knows that in most cases these press notices are reprinted solely as advertising. it is simply the commercial process of "acquainting the trade" and if done right may prove one of the most fortunate investments for the young artist. do not imagine, however, that the pianist's american manager speculates in the problematical success of the coming virtuoso. on the contrary, his fee for putting the artist on his "list" and promoting her interests may range from five hundred dollars to two thousand dollars in advance. after that the manager usually requires a commission on all engagements "booked." graft? spoils? plunder? not a bit of it. if the manager is a good one--that is, if he is an upright business man well schooled in his work--the investment should prove a good one. exploiting a new artist is a matter demanding brains, energy, ingenuity and experience. a manufacturing firm attempting to put some new product upon an already crowded market would spend not $2000.00 a year in advertising, but $100,000.00. the manager must maintain an organization, he must travel, he must advertise and he too must live. if he succeeds in marketing the services of the young virtuoso at one or two hundred dollars a concert, the returns soon begin to overtake the incessant expenses. however, only the most persistent and talented artists survive to reap these rewards. the late henry wolfsohn, one of the greatest managers america has ever produced, told the writer frequently that the task of introducing a new artist was one of the most thankless and uncertain undertakings imaginable. does the work, the time, the expense frighten you, little miss at the keyboard? do you fear the grind, the grueling disappoints, the unceasing sacrifices? then abandon your great career and join the army of useful music workers who are teaching the young people of the land to love music as it should be loved,--not in hysterical outbursts in the concert hall but in the home circle. if you have the unextinguishable fire within your soul, if you have the talent from on high, if you have health, energy, system, vitality, nothing can stop you from becoming great. advice, interferences, obstacles will be nothing to you. you will work day and night to reach your goal. what better guide could you possibly have than the words of the great pianists themselves? while the ensuing pages were compiled with the view of helping the amateur performer quite as much as the student who would become a professional pianist, you will nevertheless find in the expressions of the really great virtuosos a wealth of information and practical advice. most of the following chapters are the results of many different conferences with the greatest living pianists. all have had the revision of the artists in person before publication was undertaken. in order to indicate how carefully and willingly this was done by the pianists it is interesting to note the case of the great russian composer-virtuoso rachmaninoff. the original conference was conducted in german and in french. the material was arranged in manuscript form in english. m. rachmaninoff then requested a second conference. in the mean time he had had the better part of the manuscript translated into his native russian. however, in order to insure accuracy in the use of words, the writer translated the entire matter back into german in the pianist's presence. m. rachmaninoff did not speak english and the writer did not speak russian. the chapter relating to harold bauer is the result of a conference conducted in english. mr. bauer's use of his native tongue is as fluent and eloquent as a poet or an orator. in order that his ideas might have the best possible expression the entire chapter was written several times in manuscript and carefully rearranged and rephrased by mr. bauer in person. some of the conferences lasted well on through the night. the writer's twenty years' experience in teaching was constantly needed to grasp different shadings of meaning that some pianists found difficult to phrase. many indeed have felt their weakness in the art of verbal expression and have rejoiced to have their ideas clothed with fitting words. complete frankness and sincerity were encouraged in every case. the results of the conference with wilhelm bachaus, conceded by many other pianists to be the foremost "technicalist" of the day, are, it will be observed, altogether different in the statement of teaching principles from those of harold bauer. each is a sincere expression of individual opinion and the thoughtful student by weighing the ideas of both may reach conclusions immensely to his personal advantage. no wider range of views upon the subject of pianoforte playing could possibly come between the covers of a book. the student, the teacher, and the music lover who acquaints himself with the opinions of the different masters of the keyboard can not fail to have a very clear insight into the best contemporary ideas upon technic, interpretation, style and expression. the author--or shall he call himself a collector?--believes that the use of the questions following each chapter will be found practical and useful in the work of both clubs and classes. practice, however, is still more important than precept. the student might easily learn this book "by heart" and yet be unable to play a perfect scale. let him remember the words of locke: "men of much reading are greatly learned: but may be little knowing." after all, the virtuoso is great because he really knows and w-o-r-k-s. pepito arriola biographical pepito arriola was born on the 14th of december, 1897. a careful investigation of his ancestry reveals that no less than twelve of his forefathers and relations have been pronouncedly musical. his father was a physician, but his mother was a musician. his early musical training was given to him exclusively by his mother. the following was prepared when he was twelve years old and at that time he was apparently a perfectly healthy child, with the normal activity of a boy of his age and with a little more general education in addition to his music than the average child at fifteen or sixteen possesses. he spoke french, german (fluently) and spanish, but little english. despite the fact that he had received numerous honors from european monarchs and famous musicians, he was exceptionally modest. in his playing he seemed never to miss a note in even very complicated compositions and his musical maturity and point of view were truly astonishing. the following is particularly valuable from an educational standpoint, because of the absolute unaffectedness of the child's narrative of his own training. (the following conference was conducted in german and french.) [illustration: pepito arriola] iii the story of a wonder child pepito arriola my earliest recollections so much that was of interest to me was continually occurring while i was a child that it all seems like a kind of haze to me. i cannot remember when i first commenced to play, for my mother tells me that i wanted to reach out for the keyboard before i was out of her arms. i have also learned that when i was about two and one-half years of age, i could quite readily play after my mother anything that the size of my hand would permit me to play. i loved music so dearly, and it was such fun to run over the keyboard and make the pretty sounds, that the piano was really my first and best toy. i loved to hear my mother play, and continually begged her to play for me so that i could play the same pieces after her. i knew nothing of musical notation and played entirely by ear, which seemed to me the most natural way to play. at that time, word was sent to the king of spain that i showed talent, and he became interested in me, and i played before him. my friendship with arthur nikisch a short time afterward, herr arthur nikisch, conductor of the _gewandhaus_ orchestra at leipsic, and at one time conductor of the boston symphony orchestra in america, came to madrid to conduct the philharmonic orchestra for a special concert. some one told him about my playing and i was permitted to play for him. he became so interested that he insisted upon my being taken to leipsic for further study. i was then four years of age, and although musical advantages in spain are continually increasing, my mother thought it best at the time that she should follow the great musician's advice and that i should be taken to the german city. i want to say that in my earliest work, my mother made no effort to push me or urge me to go ahead. i loved to play for the sake of playing, and needed no coaxing to spend time at the keyboard. in my very early years i was permitted to play in public very little, although there were constant demands made to engage me. i was looked upon as a kind of curiosity and my mother wanted me to study in the regular way with good masters, and also to acquire more strength before i played in public very much. i did, however, play at the great albert hall, in london. the big building holds 8000 people, but that was so long ago that i have almost forgotten all about it, except that they all seemed pleased to see a little boy of four playing in so very big a place. i also played for royal personages, including the kaiser of germany, who was very good to me and gave me a beautiful pin. i like the kaiser very much. he seems like a fine man. my first regular instruction my first teacher, aside from my mother, was a herr dreckendorf, of leipsic. he was very kind to me and took the greatest pains, but the idea of learning the notes was very distasteful to me. i was terribly bored with the technical exercises he gave me, but have since learned that one can save much time by practicing scales and exercises. although i do not like them, i practice them every day now, for a little while, so as to get my fingers in good working order. in about six weeks i knew all that was expected of me in the way of scales in octaves, sixths, thirds, double thirds, etc., and my teacher commenced to turn his attention to studies and pieces. for the first time i found musical notation interesting, for then i realized that it was not necessary for me to wait until some one else played a piece before i could begin to explore its beauties. ah! it was wonderful, those first days with the pieces. i was in a new country and could hardly wait to master one at a time, so eager was i to reach the next one and see just what it was like. herr dreckendorf gave me some studies by dussek, cramer, the _inventions_ of bach, etc., but before long the fascination of playing beautiful pieces was so great that he found it hard to keep me away from them. early repertory so hungry was i to find new musical works that when i was eight and a half years old i could play from memory such pieces as the b flat minor scherzo, the a flat major polonaise, and most of the valses and études of chopin. i also played the sixth rhapsody of liszt and the c minor concerto of beethoven. in the mean time we moved to berlin and this has been our home ever since, so you see i have seen far more of germany than of my native country, spain. in fact, it seems more natural for me to speak german than spanish. at the age of seven it was my good fortune to come under the instruction of alberto jonas, the spanish virtuoso, who for many years was at the head of a large music school in america. i can never be grateful enough to him, for he has taught me without remuneration and not even a father could be kinder to me. when i left berlin for my present tour, tears came to our eyes, because i knew i was leaving my best friend. most of my present repertory has been acquired under jonas and he has been so, so exacting. he also saw to it that my training was broad, and not confined to those composers whose works appealed most to me. the result is that i now appreciate the works of all the composers for the piano. beethoven i found very absorbing. i learned the _appassionata sonata_ in one week's time, and longed for more. my teacher, however, insisted upon my going slowly, and mastering all the little details. i have also developed a great fondness for bach, because i like to find how he winds his melodies in and out, and makes such beautiful things of them. i play a great deal of bach, including the g minor organ fugue, which liszt played the devil with in arranging it for the piano. goodness knows, it was difficult enough for the organ in its original form! i don't see why liszt wanted to make it more difficult. liszt is, of course, considered a great master for the piano, and i play his works with great delight, especially the _campanella_ with its beautiful bell effect, but i cannot look upon liszt as a pianistic composer in the same way that one thinks of chopin as a pianistic composer. the piano was chopin's natural tongue. liszt's tongue, like that of beethoven, was the orchestra. he knew no difficulties, according to the manner in which he wrote his own works. consequently one must think of the orchestra in playing liszt's works, while the works of chopin suggest only the piano. my daily practice during most of my life my practice has never exceeded two hours a day. in this country, while on tour, i never practice more than one and one-half hours. this is not necessary, because of the concerts themselves, which keep up my technical work. i never worry about my fingers. if i can think the pieces right, my fingers will always play the notes. my mother insists upon my being out in the open air all the time i am not studying and practicing, and i am out the better part of the day. at my practice periods, i devote at least fifteen or twenty minutes to technical exercises, and strive to play all the scales, in the different forms, in all the keys, once each day. i then play some of my concert numbers, continually trying to note if there is any place that requires attention. if there is, i at once spend a little time trying to improve the passage. it is very largely a matter of thinking the musical thought right, and then saying it in the right way. if you think it right, and your aim at the keyboard is good, you are not likely to hit the wrong notes, even in skips such as one finds in the rubinstein valse in e flat. i do not ever remember of hitting the upper note wrong. it all seems so easy to me that i am sure that if other children in america would look upon other examples in the same way, they could not find their work so very difficult. i love to practice chopin. one cannot be so intimate with bach; he is a little cold and unfriendly until one knows him very well. general education i have said that we play as we think. the mind must be continually improved or the fingers will grow dull. in order to see the beauties in music we must see the beauties in other studies. i have a private teacher who comes to me in berlin and teaches me different studies. i have studied some latin, french, and the regular school studies. electricity interests me more than i can tell you and i like to learn about it, but my greatest interest is in the study of astronomy. surely nothing could be finer than to look at the stars. i have friends among the astronomers of berlin who let me look through their telescopes and tell me all about the different constellations and the worlds that look like moons when you see them enlarged. it is all so wonderful that it makes one never cease thinking. i also like to go to factories and learn how different things are made. i think that there are so many things that one can learn outside of a school-room. for instance, i went to a wire factory recently, and i am sure that i found out a great many things i might never have found out in books. one also learns by traveling, and when i am on my tours i feel that i learn more of the different people and the way they live than i ever could from geographies. don't you think i am a lucky boy? one must study geography, however, to learn about maps and the way in which countries are formed. i have toured in germany, russia, and england, and now in america. america interests me wonderfully. everything seems so much alive and i like the climate very much. theoretical studies musical theory bores me now, almost as much as my first technical studies did. richard strauss, the great german composer, has very kindly offered to teach me. i like him very much and he is so kind, but his thundering musical effects sometimes seems very noisy to me. i know many of the rules of harmony, but they are very uncomfortable and disagreeable to me. i would far rather write my music as it comes to me. herr nikisch says that when i do it that way, i make very few blunders, but i know i can never be a composer until i have mastered all the branches of musical theory. i am now writing a symphony. i played some parts for herr nikisch and he has agreed to produce it. of course, the orchestral parts will have to be written for me, but i know what instruments i want to express certain ideas. putting down the notes upon paper is so tiresome. why can't one think the musical thoughts and have them preserved without the tedious work of writing them out! sometimes before i can get them on paper they are gone--no one knows where, and the worst of all is that they never come back. it is far greater fun to play the piano, or play football, or go rowing. reading and study i love to read, and my favorite of all books is _the three musketeers_. i have also read something of shakespeare, goethe, schiller, and many other writers. i like parts of the great spanish novel _don quixote_, but i find it hard to read as a whole. i think that music students ought to read a great deal. it makes them think, and it gives them poetical thoughts. music is, after all, only another kind of poetry, and if we get poetical ideas from books we become more poetical, and our music becomes more beautiful. the student who thinks only of hammering down keys at the piano cannot play in a manner in which people will take pleasure. piano playing is so much more than merely pressing down keys. one has to tell people things that cannot be told in words--that is what music is. at the concert i do not know what it is to be nervous at concerts. i have played so much and i am always so sure of what i am going to play that nervousness is out of the question. of course, i am anxious about the way in which audiences will receive my playing. i want to please them so much and don't want them to applaud me because i am a boy, but would rather have them come as real music-lovers to enjoy the music itself. if i cannot bring pleasure to them in that way i do not deserve to be before the public. my concerts are usually about one hour in length, although i sometimes play encores for some time after the concert. i make it a practice not to eat for a few hours before the concert, as doctors have told my mother that my mind will be in better shape. i want to thank the many friends i have made among the students who have come to my concerts, and i hope that i may have told them some things which will help them in their work. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series i pepito arriola 1. should the talented child be urged or pushed ahead? 2. in what period of time should a very talented child master the elementary outlines of technic? 3. can liszt be regarded as a pianistic composer in the same sense as that in which chopin is considered pianistic? 4. how should a very talented child's practice time be divided? 5. what part does right thinking play in execution? 6. how should the child's general education be conducted? 7. should the education be confined to the classroom? 8. should the musical child be encouraged to read fiction? 9. does music resemble poetry? 10. should one be careful about the body before concerts? [illustration: wilhelm bachaus] wilhelm bachaus biographical wilhelm bachaus was born at leipsic, march 24, 1884, two years before the death of franz liszt. nine years younger than josef hofmann and a trifle more than one-half the age of paderewski he represents a different decade from that of other pianists included in this work. bachaus studied for nine years with alois reckendorf, a moravian teacher who was connected with the leipsic conservatory for more than thirty years. reckendorf had been a student of science and philosophy at the vienna and the heidelberg universities and was an earnest musician and teacher with theories of his own. he took an especial interest in bachaus and was his only teacher with the exception of one year spent with d'albert and "three lessons with siloti." although bachaus commenced playing when he was eight years old he feels that his professional _début_ was made in london in june, 1901, when he played the tremendously difficult brahms-paganini variations. in 1905, when bachaus was only twenty-one, he won the famous rubinstein prize at paris. this consists of 5000 francs offered every five years to young men between the ages of twenty and twenty-six. (the following conference was conducted in english and german.) iv the pianist of to-morrow wilhelm bachaus to-day, yesterday and to-morrow "it is somewhat surprising how very little difference exists between the material used in piano teaching to-day and that employed forty or fifty years ago. of course, there has been a remarkable amount of new technical material, exercises, studies, etc., devised, written and published, and some of this presents the advantage of being an improvement upon the old--an improvement which may be termed an advance--but, taken all in all, the advance has been very slight when compared with the astonishing advances made in other sciences and other phases of human progress in this time. "it would seem that the science of music (for the processes of studying the art are undoubtedly scientific) left little territory for new explorers and inventors. despite the great number of études that have been written, imagine for one moment what a desert the technic of music would be without czerny, clementi, tausig, pischna--to say nothing of the great works of scarlatti and bach, which have an effect upon the technic, but are really great works of musical art. the wonderful efficacy of scales "personally, i practice scales in preference to all other forms of technical exercises when i am preparing for a concert. add to this arpeggios and bach, and you have the basis upon which my technical work stands. pianists who have been curious about my technical accomplishments have apparently been amazed when i have told them that scales are my great technical mainstay--that is, scales plus hard work. they evidently have thought that i had some kind of alchemic secret, like the philosopher's stone which was designed to turn the baser metals into gold. i possess no secrets which any earnest student may not acquire if he will work in the laboratory of music long enough. there are certain artistic points which only come with long-continued experiment. "as the chemist finds the desired result by interminable heart-breaking eliminations, so the artist must weigh and test his means until he finds the one most likely to produce the most beautiful or the most appropriate result. but this seeking for the right effect has little to do with the kind of technic which necessitates one to keep every muscle employed in piano-playing properly exercised, and i may reiterate with all possible emphasis that the source of my technical equipment is scales, scales, scales. i find their continued daily practice not only beneficial, but necessary. i still find it desirable to practice scales for half an hour a day. bach musically omnipotent "it seems almost foolish to repeat what has been said so many times about the wonderful old cantor of leipsic, johann sebastian bach. however, there may still be some who have not yet become acquainted with the indisputable fact that the practice of bach is the shortest, quickest road to technical finish. busoni has enlarged upon bach, impossible as that may seem; but as a modern bridge is sometimes built upon wonderful old foundations, busoni has taken the idea of bach and, with his penetrative and interpretative ability, has been able to make the meaning more clear and more effective. any young pianist who aspires to have his hands in condition to respond to the subtle suggestions of his brain may acquire a marvelous foundation by the use of scales, bach and arpeggios. the old that is ever new "i have seen many ways and means tried out. some seem like an attempt to save time at the expense of thoroughness. furthermore, the means which have produced the great pianists of the past are likely to differ but little from those which will produce the pianists of the future. "the ultra-modern teacher who is inclined to think scales old-fashioned should go to hear de pachmann, who practices scales every day. de pachmann, who has been a virtuoso for a great many years, still finds daily practice necessary, and, in addition to scales, he plays a great deal of bach. to-day his technic is more powerful and more comprehensive than ever, and he attributes it in a large measure to the simplest of means. difficulties in new pianoforte compositions "i have often been asked if the future of pianoforte composition seemed destined to alter the technic of the instrument, as did the compositions of liszt, for instance. this is a difficult question, but it would seem that the borderland of pianistic difficulty had been reached in the compositions and transcriptions of busoni and godowsky. the new french school of debussy, ravel and others is different in type, but does not make any more severe technical demands. "however, it is hard for one to imagine anything more complicated or more difficult than the godowsky arrangements of the chopin studies. i fail to see how pianoforte technic can go much beyond these, unless one gets more fingers or more hands. godowsky's treatment of these studies is marvelous not only from a technical standpoint, but from a musical standpoint as well. he has added a new flavor to the individual masterpieces of chopin. he has made them wonderfully clever and really very interesting studies in harmony and counterpoint, so that one forgets their technical intricacies in the beauty of the compositions. one cannot say that their original beauty has been enhanced, but he has made them wonderfully fascinating compositions despite their aggravating complications for the student. mere difficulty no longer astounds "the day when the show of startling technical skill was sufficient to make a reputation for a pianist is, fortunately, past. the mechanical playing devices have possibly been responsible for this. the public refuses to admire anything that can be done by a machine, and longs for something finer, more subtle, more closely allied to the soul of the artist. this does not mean, however, that the necessity for a comprehensive technic is depreciated. quite the contrary is true. the need for an all-comprehensive technic is greater than ever before. but the public demand for the purely musical, the purely artistic, is being continually manifested. "modern composers are writing with this in view rather than huge technical combinations. the giant of to-day, to my mind, is indisputably rachmaninoff. he is writing the greatest original music for piano of any living composer. all of his compositions are pianistic and he does not condescend to pander to a trifling public taste. he is a man with a great mind, and, in addition to this, he has a delightful sense of proportion and a feeling for the beautiful, all of which makes him a composer of the master mould. his compositions will endure as long as music. modern compositions "for others of the type of scriabine i care less, although i am sensible to the beauty of many of their compositions. they have not, however, the splendid mould of rachmaninoff, nor have they his vigorous originality. doubtless some of these men will produce great original compositions in the future. compositions that are simply not bad are hardly worth the paper they are written upon, for they will not last as long. the composition that will last is a great, new, original thought, inspired, noble and elemental, but worked out with the distinctive craftsmanship of the great master. "i am very partial to debussy. he has an extraordinary atmosphere, and, after one has formed a taste for him, his compositions are alluring, particularly his _homage à rameau_, _jardins sous la pluie_ and _d'un cahier d'esquisses_, which i have been playing upon my american tour. the most difficult compositions "i have continually been asked, 'what is the most difficult composition?' the question always amuses me, but i suppose it is very human and in line with the desire to measure the highest building, the tallest mountain, the longest river or the oldest castle. why is such a premium put upon mere difficulty? strange to say, no one ever seems to think it necessary to inquire, 'what is the most beautiful piece?' "difficulty in music should by no means be estimated by technical complications. to play a mozart concerto well is a colossally difficult undertaking. the pianist who has worked for hours to get such a composition as near as possible to his conception of perfection is never given the credit for his work, except by a few connoisseurs, many of whom have been through a similarly exacting experience. months may be spent upon comparatively simple compositions, such as the haydn sonatas or the mozart sonatas, and the musical public is blind to the additional finish or polish so evident to the virtuoso. praise that irritates "the opposite of this is also true. a little show of bravura, possibly in a passage which has not cost the pianist more than ten minutes of frivolous practice, will turn many of the unthinking auditors into a roaring mob. this is, of course, very distressing to the sincere artist who strives to establish himself by his real worth. "of course, there are some compositions which present difficulties which few work hard enough to surmount. among these might be mentioned the godowsky-chopin _études_ (particularly the _étude_ in a flat, opus 25, no. 1, which is always especially exasperating for the student sufficiently advanced to approach it); the _don juan fantasie_ of liszt; the brahms-paganini _variations_ and the beethoven, opus 106, which, when properly played, demands enormous technical skill. one certainly saves a lot of bother when one discards it from one's repertoire. if these four pieces are not the most difficult pieces, they are certainly among the most difficult. why not seek the beautiful? "but why seek difficulty when there is so much that is quite as beautiful and yet not difficult? why try to make a bouquet of oak trees when the ground is covered with exquisite flowers? the piano is a solo instrument and has its limitations. some piano music is said to sound orchestral. as a matter of fact, a great deal of it would sound better with the orchestra. "real piano music is rare. the piano appears to be too small for some of our modern titans among the composers. when they write for the piano they seem to be exhibiting a concealed longing for the one hundred or more men of the modern orchestra. one of the reasons why the works of debussy appeal to me is that he manages to put so much color into his piano pieces without suggesting the orchestra. much of his music is wonderful in this respect, and, moreover, the musicians of the future will appreciate this fact more and more. exercises that give immediate help "no one exercise can be depended upon to meet all the varied conditions which arise in the practice of the day, but i have frequently employed a simple exercise which seems to 'coax' the hand into muscular activity in a very short time. it is so simple that i am diffident about suggesting it. however, elemental processes lead to large structures sometimes. the egyptian pyramids were built ages before the age of steam and electricity, and scientists are still wondering how those massive stones were ever put in place. "the exercise i use most, apart from scales, is really based upon a principle which is constantly employed in all scale playing and in all piano playing, that of putting the thumb over and under the fingers. did you ever stop to think how continually this is employed? one hardly goes one step beyond the elemental grades before one encounters it. it demands a muscular action entirely different from that of pressing down the keys either with the finger, forearm or arm motion. "starting with the above-named principle and devising new exercises to meet the very human need for variety, i play something like this: [illustration] "the next form would employ another fingering-[illustration] "the next form might be-[illustration] "these i transpose through several keys, for instance-[illustration] "note that i am not giving an arbitrary exercise, but simply suggesting the plan upon which the student may work. there is a great deal of fun in devising new exercises. it assists in helping the student to concentrate. of course, these exercises are only attempted after all the standard exercises found in books have been exhausted. avoid too complicated exercises "i often think that teachers make a great mistake by giving too complicated exercises. a complicated exercise leads away from clear thinking and concentration. the simple exercise will never seem dull or dry if the pupil's ambition is right. after all, it is not so much what is done as how it is done. give less thought to the material and more to the correction of the means with which one plays. there should be unceasing variety in studies. a change at every practice period is advisable, as it gives the pupil new material for thought. there are hundreds of different exercises in the different books, and the student has no reason for suffering for want of variety." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series ii wilhelm bachaus 1. does the technical material of to-day differ greatly from that of forty or fifty years ago? 2. state something of the efficacy of scales. 3. state three sources of technical material sure to interest the student. 4. do celebrated virtuosos use scales regularly? 5. state what else besides technical skill is required in these days to gain recognition as a virtuoso pianist. 6. why does rachmaninoff excel as a composer for pianoforte? 7. state what may be considered the most difficult of piano compositions. 8. wherein does the appeal of debussy lie? 9. give some simple exercises suitable for daily practice. 10. why are too complicated exercises undesirable? [illustration: harold bauer] harold bauer biographical harold bauer was born in london, england, april 28, 1875. his father was an accomplished amateur violinist. through him, the future virtuoso was enabled to gain an excellent idea of the beautiful literature of chamber music. when a boy mr. bauer studied privately with the celebrated violin teacher, politzer. at the age of ten he became so proficient that he made his _début_ as a violinist in london. thereafter in his tours of england he met with great success everywhere. in the artistic circles of london mr. bauer met a musician named graham moore, who gave him some idea upon the details of the technic of pianoforte playing, which mr. bauer had studied or rather "picked up" by himself, without any thought of ever abandoning his career as a violinist. mr. moore had expected to rehearse some orchestral accompaniments on a second piano with paderewski, who was then preparing some concertos for public performance. mr. moore was taken ill and sent his talented musical friend, mr. bauer, in his place. paderewski immediately took an interest in his talented accompanist and advised him to go to paris to continue his studies with gorski. after many privations in paris mr. bauer, unable to secure engagements as a violinist, went on a tour of russia as an accompanist of a singer. in some of the smaller towns bauer played an occasional piano solo. returning to paris, he found that he was still unable to secure engagements as a violinist. his pianistic opportunity came when a celebrated virtuoso who was to play at a concert was taken ill and bauer was asked to substitute. he gradually gave more attention to the piano and rose to a very high position in the tone world. v artistic aspects of piano study harold bauer the immediate relation of technic to music "while it gives me great pleasure to talk to the great number of students studying the piano, i can assure you that it is with no little diffidence that i venture to approach these very subjects about which they are probably most anxious to learn. in the first place, words tell very little, and in the second place, my whole career has been so different from the orthodox methods that i have been constantly compelled to contrive means of my own to meet the myriads of artistic contingencies as they have arisen in my work. it is largely for this reason that i felt compelled recently to refuse a very flattering offer to write a book on piano playing. my whole life experience makes me incapable of perceiving what the normal methods of pianistic study should be. as a result of this i am obliged with my own pupils to invent continually new means and new plans for work with each student. "without the conventional technical basis to work upon, this has necessarily resulted in several aspects of pianoforte study which are naturally somewhat different from the commonly accepted ideas of the technicians. in the first place, the only technical study of any kind i have ever done has been that technic which has had an immediate relation to the musical message of the piece i have been studying. in other words, i have never studied technic independently of music. i do not condemn the ordinary technical methods for those who desire to use them and see good in them. i fear, however, that i am unable to discuss them adequately, as they are outside of my personal experience. the aim of technic "when, as a result of circumstances entirely beyond my control, i abandoned the study of the violin in order to become a pianist, i was forced to realize, in view of my very imperfect technical equipment, that in order to take advantage of the opportunities that offered for public performance it would be necessary for me to find some means of making my playing acceptable without spending months and probably years in acquiring mechanical proficiency. the only way of overcoming the difficulty seemed to be to devote myself entirely to the musical essentials of the composition i was interpreting in the hope that the purely technical deficiencies which i had neither time nor knowledge to enable me to correct would pass comparatively unnoticed, provided i was able to give sufficient interest and compel sufficient attention to the emotional values of the work. this kind of study, forced upon me in the first instance through reasons of expediency, became a habit, and gradually grew into a conviction that it was a mistake to practice technic at all unless such practice should conduce to some definite, specific and immediate musical result. "i do not wish to be misunderstood in making this statement, containing, as it does, an expression of opinion that was formed in early years of study, but which, nevertheless, i have never since felt any reason to change. it is not my intention to imply that technical study is unnecessary, or that purely muscular training is to be neglected. i mean simply to say that in every detail of technical work the germ of musical expression must be discovered and cultivated, and that in muscular training for force and independence the simplest possible forms of physical exercises are all that is necessary. "the singer and the violinist are always studying _music_, even when they practice a succession of single notes. not so with the pianist, however, for an isolated note on the piano, whether played by the most accomplished artist or the man in the street, means nothing, absolutely nothing. seeking individual expression "at the time of which i speak, my greatest difficulty was naturally to give a constant and definite direction to my work and in my efforts to obtain a suitable muscular training which should enable me to produce expressive sounds, while i neglected no opportunity of closely observing the work of pianoforte teachers and students around me. i found that most of the technical work which was being done with infinite pains and a vast expenditure of time was not only non-productive of expressive sounds, but actually harmful and misleading as regards the development of the musical sense. i could see no object in practicing evenness in scales, considering that a perfectly even scale is essentially devoid of emotional (musical) significance. i could see no reason for limiting tone production to a certain kind of sound that was called 'a good tone,' since the expression of feeling necessarily demands in many cases the use of relatively harsh sounds. moreover, i could see no reason for trying to overcome what are generally called natural defects, such as the comparative weakness of the fourth finger for example, as it seemed to me rather a good thing than otherwise that each finger should naturally and normally possess a characteristic motion of its own. "it is _differences_ that count in art, not similarities. every individual expression is a form of art; why not, then, make an artist of each finger by cultivating its special aptitudes instead of adapting a system of training deliberately calculated to destroy these individual characteristics in bringing _all_ the fingers to a common level of lifeless machines? "these and similar reflections, i discovered, were carrying me continually farther away from the ideals of most of the pianists, students and teachers with whom i was in contact, and it was not long before i definitely abandoned all hope of obtaining, by any of the means i found in use, the results for which i was striving. consequently, from that time to the present my work has necessarily been more or less independent and empirical in its nature, and, while i trust i am neither prejudiced nor intolerant in my attitude towards pianoforte education in its general aspect, i cannot help feeling that a great deal of natural taste is stifled and a great deal of mediocrity created by the persistent and unintelligent study of such things as an 'even scale' or a 'good tone.' "lastly, it is quite incomprehensible to me why any one method of technic should be superior to any other, considering that as far as i was able to judge, no teacher or pupil ever claimed more for any technical system than that it gave more technical ability than some other technical system. i have never been able to convince myself, as a matter of fact, that one system does give more ability than another; but even if there were one infinitely superior to all the rest, it would still fail to satisfy me unless its whole aim and object were to facilitate musical expression. "naturally, studying in this way required my powers of concentration to be trained to the very highest point. this matter of concentration is far more important than most teachers imagine, and the perusal of some standard work on psychology will reveal things which should help the student greatly. many pupils make the mistake of thinking that only a certain kind of music demands concentration, whereas it is quite as necessary to concentrate the mind upon the playing of a simple scale as for the study of a beethoven sonata. the resistance of the medium "in every form of art the medium that is employed offers a certain resistance to perfect freedom of expression, and the nature of this resistance must be fully understood before it can be overcome. the poet, the painter, the sculptor and the musician each has his own problem to solve, and the pianist in particular is frequently brought to the verge of despair through the fact that the instrument, in requiring the expenditure of physical and nervous energy, absorbs, so to speak, a large proportion of the intensity which the music demands. "with many students the piano is only a barrier--a wall between them and music. their thoughts never seem to penetrate farther than the keys. they plod along for years apparently striving to make piano-playing machines of themselves, and in the end result in becoming something rather inferior. "conditions are doubtless better now than in former years. teachers give studies with some musical value, and the months, even years, of keyboard grind without the least suggestion of anything musical or gratifying to the natural sense of the beautiful are very probably a thing of the past. but here again i fear the teachers in many cases make a perverted use of studies and pieces for technical purposes. if we practice a piece of real music with no other idea than that of developing some technical point it often ceases to become a piece of music and results in being a kind of technical machinery. once a piece is mechanical it is difficult to make it otherwise. all the cogs, wheels, bolts and screws which an overzealous ambition to become perfect technically has built up are made so evident that only the most patient and enduring kind of an audience can tolerate them. the perversion of studies "people talk about 'using the music of bach' to accomplish some technical purpose in a perfectly heart-breaking manner. they never seem to think of interpreting bach, but, rather, make of him a kind of technical elevator by means of which they hope to reach some marvelous musical heights. we even hear of the studies of chopin being perverted in a similarly vicious manner, but bach, the master of masters, is the greatest sufferer. "it has become a truism to say that technic is only a means to an end, but i very much doubt if this assertion should be accepted without question, suggesting as it does the advisability of studying something that is not music and which is believed at some future time to be capable of being marvelously transformed into an artistic expression. properly understood, _technic is art_, and must be studied as such. there should be no technic in music which is not music _in itself_. the unit of musical expression "the piano is, of all instruments, the least expressive naturally, and it is of the greatest importance that the student should realize the nature of its resistance. the action of a piano is purely a piece of machinery where the individual note has no meaning. when the key is once struck and the note sounded there is a completed action and the note cannot then be modified nor changed in the least. the only thing over which the pianist has any control is the length of the tone, and this again may not last any longer than the natural vibrations of the strings, although it may be shortened by relinquishing the keys. it makes no difference whether the individual note is struck by a child or by paderewski--it has in itself no expressive value. in the case of the violin, the voice and all other instruments except the organ, the individual note may be modified after it is emitted or struck, and in this modification is contained the possibility of a whole world of emotional expression. "our sole means of expression, then, in piano playing lies in the relation of one note to the other notes in a series or in a chord. herein lies the difficulty, the resistance to perfect freedom of which i have spoken before, the principal subject for intelligence and careful study, and yet so few students appear to understand it. their great effort seems to be to make all the noise in a given series as much alike as coins from a mint. they come to the piano as their only instrument, and never seek to take a lesson from the voice or from the other instruments which have expressive resources infinitely superior to those possessed by the piano. the principal charm of the piano lies in the command which the player has over many voices singing together. but until the pianist has a regard for the individual voice in its relation to the ensemble he has no means with which to make his work really beautiful. "there is a great need for more breadth in music study. this, as i know, has been said very often, but it does not hurt to say it again. the more a man knows, the more he has experienced, the wider his mental vision in all branches of human information, the more he will have to say. we need men in music with big minds, wide grasp and definite aims. musicians are far too prone to become overspecialized. they seem to have an unquenchable thirst to master the jargon and the infinite variety of methods which are thrust upon us in these days rather than a genuine desire to develop their musical aims. music is acquiring a technology as confusing and as extensive as bacteriology. there seems to be no end to the new kinds of methods in the minds of furtive and fertile inventors. each new method in turn seems to breed another, and so on _ad nauseam_. "among other things i would suggest the advisability for pianists to cultivate some knowledge of the construction of their instrument. strange as it may seem, it is nevertheless a fact that the average pianist knows practically nothing of a piano, being in many cases entirely unaware of such simple things as how the tone is produced. the function of the pedals is as unknown to them as geology is to the coal heaver. this ignorance leads frequently to the employment of motions and methods that can only be characterized as ridiculous in the extreme. music first, the instrument afterwards "from the manner in which many ambitious and earnest students play, it would seem that they had their minds fixed upon something which could not be conveyed to the world in any other form than that of the sounds which come from the piano. of course, the piano has an idiom peculiarly its own, and some composers have employed this idiom with such natural freedom that their music suffers when transposed for any other instrument. the music of chopin is peculiarly pianistic, but it is, first of all, music, and any one of the wonderful melodies which came from the fertile brain of the polish-french genius could be played upon one of many different instruments besides the piano. the duty of the interpreter should surely be to think of the composition as such, and to interpret it primarily as music, irrespective of the instrument. some students sit down before the keyboard to 'play' the piano precisely as though they were going to play a game of cards. they have learned certain rules governing the game, and they do not dare disobey these rules. they think of rules rather than of the ultimate result--the music itself. the idiom of the italian language is appropriate here. the italians do not say 'i play the piano,' but rather 'i sound the piano.' (_suono il pianoforte._) if we had a little more 'sounding' of the piano, that is, producing real musical effects, and a little less playing on ivory keys, the playing of our students would be more interesting. variety the spice of art "it can hardly be questioned that the genesis of all musical art is to be found in song, the most natural, the most fluent and the most beautiful form of musical expression. how much every instrumentalist can learn from the art of singing! "it is a physical impossibility for the voice to produce two notes in succession exactly alike. they may sound very similar, but there is a difference quite perceptible to the highly trained ear. when a singer starts a phrase a certain amount of motive power is required to set the vocal apparatus in vibration. after the first note has been attacked with the full force of the breath, there is naturally not so much weight or pressure left for the following notes. it is, however, possible for the second note to be as loud, or even louder, than the first note. but in order to obtain the additional force on the second note, it is necessary to compensate for the lack of force due to the loss of the original weight or pressure by increasing what might be called the nervous energy; that is to say, by expelling the breath with proportionately greater speed. muscular and nervous energy "the manifestation of nervous energy in this manner is quite different from the manifestation of muscular energy, although both are, of course, intimately connected. muscular energy begins at its maximum and gradually diminishes to the point of exhaustion, whereas nervous energy rises in an inconceivably short space of time to its climax, and then drops immediately to nothing. nervous energy may be said to be represented by an increased rapidity of emission. it is what the athlete would call a 'spurt.' "what i have said about the voice applies equally to all other instruments, the piano and the organ alone excepted. it is obvious that the playing of the wind instruments must be subjected to the limitations of the breath, and in the case of the violin and the other stringed instruments, where the bow supplies the motive power, it is impossible for two notes played in succession to sound absolutely alike. if the first note of a phrase is attacked with the weight of the whole bow behind it, the second note will follow with just so much less weight, and if the violinist desires to intensify any of the succeeding tones, he must do so by the employment of the nervous energy i have mentioned, when a difference in the quality of tone is bound to result. the pianist should closely observe and endeavor to imitate these characteristics, which so vividly convey the idea of organic life in all its infinite variety, and which are inherent in every medium for artistic expression. phrasing and breathing "it would take a book, and by no means a small one, to go into this matter of phrasing which i am now discussing. even in such a book there would doubtless be many points which would be open to assaults for sticklers in psychological technology. i am not issuing a propaganda or writing a thesis for the purpose of having something to defend, but merely giving a few offhand facts that have benefited me in my work. however, it is my conviction that it is the duty of the pianist to try to understand the analogy to the physical limitations which surround the more natural mediums of musical expression--the voice and the violin--and to apply the result of his observations to his piano playing. the natural effect of emotions "there is another relation between phrasing and breathing which the student may investigate to advantage. the emotions have a direct and immediate effect upon the breath, and as the brain informs the nervous system of new emotional impressions the visible evidences may be first observed in the breathing. it is quite unnecessary to go into the physiology or psychology of this, but a little reflection will immediately indicate what i mean. "it is impossible to witness a disastrous accident without showing mental agitation and excitement in hurried breathing. joy, anger, fear, love, tranquillity and grief--all are characterized by different modes of breathing, and a trained actor must study this with great closeness. "the artist at the piano may be said to breathe his phrases. a phrase that is purely contemplative in character is breathed in a tranquil fashion without any suggestion of nervous agitation. if we go through the scale of expression, starting with contemplative tranquillity, to the climax of dramatic intensity, the breath will be emitted progressively quicker and quicker. every musical phrase has some kind of expressive message to deliver. if a perfectly tranquil phrase is given out in a succession of short breaths, indicating, as they would, agitation, it would be a contradiction, just as it would be perfectly inhuman to suppose that in expressing dramatic intensity it would be possible to breathe slowly. "in conclusion, i would urge students to cultivate a very definite mental attitude as to what they really desire to accomplish. do you wish to make music? if so, _think_ music, and nothing but music, all the time, down to the smallest detail even in technic. is your ambition to play scales, octaves, double notes and trills? then by all means concentrate your mind on them to the exclusion of everything else, but do not be surprised if, when, later on, you want to communicate a semblance of life to your mechanical motions, you succeed in obtaining no more than the jerky movements of a clock-work puppet." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series iii harold bauer 1. what is the nature of the technical study done by harold bauer? 2. should immediate musical results be sought in technical study? 3. upon what principle is expression in art based? 4. is the utmost concentration necessary in all piano playing? 5. how may the piano become a barrier between the student and musical expression? 6. in what spirit should all studies be played? 7. is the piano an expressive instrument? 8. should pianists acquire a knowledge of the main feature in the construction of their instrument? 9. how may variety in piano playing be achieved? 10. how is phrasing related to breathing? [illustration: f. bloomfield-zeisler] fanny bloomfield-zeisler biographical mrs. fanny bloomfield-zeisler was born at beilitz, austrian silesia, july 16, 1866. two years later her parents took her to chicago. her first teachers in chicago were bernhard ziehn and carl wolfsohn. at the age of ten she made a profound impression at a public concert in chicago. two years later she had the good fortune to meet mme. essipoff, who advised her to go to vienna to study with theodore leschetizky. accordingly she was taken to the austrian capital and remained under the instruction of the noted pedagogue for five years. starting with the year 1883, she commenced a series of annual recitals and concerts in different american cities which made her very famous. in 1893 she toured europe, attracting even more attention than in the homeland. since then she made several tours of europe and america, arousing great enthusiasm wherever she appeared. her emotional force, her personal magnetism and her keen processes of analysis compelled critics everywhere to rank her with the foremost pianists of the day. vi appearing in public fanny bloomfield-zeisler "the secret of success in the career of a virtuoso is not easily defined. many elements have to be considered. given great talent, success is not by any means assured. many seemingly extraneous qualities must be cultivated; many mistakes must be avoided. "let me start out with a caution. no greater mistake could possibly be made than to assume that frequent public appearances or extended concert touring in early youth is essential to a great career as a virtuoso. on the contrary, i would say that such a course is positively harmful. the 'experience' of frequent playing in public is essential if one would get rid of stage fright or undue nervousness and would gain that repose and self-confidence without which success is impossible. but such experience should be had only after the attainment of physical and mental maturity. a young boy or girl, though ever so much of a prodigy, if taken on an extensive concert tour, not only becomes unduly self-conscious, conceited, vain and easily satisfied with his or her work, but--and this is the all-important point--runs the risk of undermining his or her health. the precious days of youth should be devoted primarily to the storing up of health, without which lasting success is impossible. nothing is more harmful to sound physical development and mental growth than the strain of extensive tours. it is true that one great virtuoso now before the public played frequently before large audiences as an infant prodigy. but, happily, wise and efficient influences served to check this mad career. the young artist was placed in the hands of a great teacher and given a chance to reach full physical maturity and artistic stature before resuming public appearances. had it been otherwise, it is a matter of common belief that this great talent would have fizzled out. "by this i do not mean that the pupil should be prevented from playing at recitals in the home city. playing of this kind gives the pupil confidence and smooths the way for his work as a mature artist. these performances should be rare, except in the case of performances given in the home of the pupil or at the teacher's home. what i object to is the exploitation on a large scale of the infant prodigy. thorough preparation necessary "one of the real secrets of success in public appearance is thorough preparation. in fact there is no talisman, no secret that one can pass over to another and say, 'here is my secret, go thou and do likewise.' what a valuable secret it would be--the mysterious secret processes of the krupp gun works in germany would be trifling in comparison. genuine worth is, after all, the great essential, and thorough preparation leads to genuine worth. for instance, i have long felt that the mental technic that the study of bach's inventions and fugues afford could not be supplied by any other means. the peculiar polyphonic character of these works trains the mind to recognize the separate themes so ingeniously and beautifully interwoven and at the same time the fingers receive a kind of discipline which hardly any other study can secure. "the layman can hardly conceive how difficult it is to play at the same time two themes different in character and running in opposite directions. the student fully realizes this difficulty when he finds that it takes years to master it. these separate themes must be individualized; they must be conceived as separate, but their bearing upon the work as a whole must never be overlooked. "the purity of style to be found in bach, in connection with his marvelous contrapuntal designs, should be expounded to the student at as early an age as his intellectual development will permit. it may take some time to create a taste for bach, but the teacher will be rewarded with results so substantial and permanent that all the trouble and time will seem well worth while. "there is also a refining influence about which i would like to speak. the practice of bach seems to fairly grind off the rough edges, and instead of a raw, bungling technic the student acquires a kind of finish from the study of the old master of eisenach that nothing else can give him. "i do not mean to be understood that the study of bach, even if it be ever so thorough, suffices in itself to give one a perfect technic. vastly more is necessary. the student who would fit himself for a concert career must have the advice of a great teacher and must work incessantly and conscientiously under his guidance. i emphasize the study of bach merely because i find it is not pursued as much as it deserves. that technical finish is of the very essence of success in public appearance, goes without saying. it is not only indispensable for a creditable performance, but the consciousness of possessing it contributes to that confidence of the player without which he cannot hope to make an impression upon his audience. leschetizky and 'method' "speaking about teachers reminds me to put forth this caution: do not pin your faith to a method. there is good and, alas! some bad in most methods. we hear a great deal these days about the leschetizky method. during the five years i was with leschetizky, he made it very plain that he had no fixed method in the ordinary sense of the word. like every good teacher, he studied the individuality of each pupil and taught him according to that individuality. it might almost be said that he had a different method for each pupil, and i have often said that leschetizky's method is to have no fixed method. of course, there are certain preparatory exercises which with slight variations he wants all his pupils to go through. but it is not so much the exercises in themselves as the patience and painful persistence in executing them to which they owe their virtue. of course, leschetizky has his preference for certain works for their great educational value. he has his convictions as to the true interpretation to be given to the various compositions, but those do not form what may properly be called a method. personally, i am rather skeptical when anybody announces that he teaches any particular method. leschetizky, without any particular method, is a great force by virtue of his tremendously interesting personality and his great qualities as an artist. he is himself a never-ending source of inspiration. at eighty he was still a youth, full of vitality and enthusiasm. some student, diffident but worthy, was always encouraged; another was incited by sarcasm; still another was scolded outright. practical illustration on the piano, showing 'how not to do it,' telling of pertinent stories to elucidate a point, are among the means which he constantly employed to bring out the best that was in his pupils. a good teacher cannot insure success and leschetizky has naturally had many pupils who will never become great virtuosos. it was never in the pupils and, no matter how great the teacher, he cannot create talent that does not exist. "the many books published upon the leschetizky system by his assistants have merit, but they by no means constitute a leschetizky system. they simply give some very rational preparatory exercise that the assistants give in preparing pupils for the master. leschetizky himself laughs when one speaks of his 'method' or 'system.' "success in public appearance will never come through any system or method except that which works toward the end of making a mature and genuine artist. well-selected programs "skill in the arrangement of an artist's programs has much to do with his success. this matter has two distinct aspects. firstly, the program must _look_ attractive, and secondly, it must _sound_ well in the rendition. when i say the program must look attractive, i mean that it must contain works which interest concert-goers. it should be neither entirely conventional, nor should it contain novelties exclusively. the classics should be represented, because the large army of students expect to be especially benefited by hearing these performed by a great artist. novelties must be placed on the program to make it attractive to the maturer habitués of the concert room. "but more important, to my mind, is the other aspect of program making which i have mentioned. there must be contrasts in the character and tonal nature of the compositions played. they must be so grouped that the interest of the hearers will be not only sustained to the end, but will gradually increase. it goes without saying that each composition should have merit and worth as musical literature. but beyond that, there should be variety in the character of the different compositions: the classic, the romantic, and the modern compositions should all be given representation. to play several slow movements or several vivacious movements in succession would tend to tire the listener. anti-climaxes should be avoided. "it may truly be said that program making is in itself a high art. it is difficult to give advice on this subject by any general statement. generalizations are too often misleading. i would advise the young artist to study carefully the programs of the most successful artists and to attempt to discover the principle underlying their arrangement. "one thing which should never be forgotten is that the object of a concert is not merely to show off the skill of the performer, but to instruct, entertain and elevate the audience. the bulk of the program should be composed of standard works, but novelties of genuine worth should be given a place on the program. personality "the player's personality is of inestimable importance in winning the approval of the public. i do not refer particularly to personal beauty, although it cannot be doubted that a pleasing appearance is helpful in conquering an audience. what i mean is sincerity, individuality, temperament. what we vaguely describe as magnetism is often possessed by players who can lay no particular claim to personal beauty. some players seem fairly to hypnotize their audiences--yes, hypnotize them. this is not done by practicing any species of black art, or by consciously following any psychological formula, but by the sheer intensity of feeling of the artist at the moment of performance. "the great performer in such moments of passion forgets himself entirely. he is in a sort of artistic trance. technical mastery of the composition being presupposed, the artist need not and does not give thought to the matter of playing the notes correctly, but, re-creating in himself what he feels to have been the mood of the composer, re-creates the composition itself. it is this kind of playing which establishes an invisible cord, connecting the player's and the hearers' hearts, and, swayed himself by the feelings of the moment, he sways his audience. he makes the music he draws from the instrument supreme in every soul in the audience; his feeling and passion are contagious and carry the audience away. these are the moments, not only of the greatest triumph, but of the greatest exultation for the artist. he who cannot thus sway audiences will never rise above mediocrity. do not attempt the impossible "to those who are still in the preparatory stage of development i am glad to give one word of advice. _do not play pieces that are away beyond your grasp._ this is the greatest fault in our american musical educational systems of to-day. pupils are permitted to play works that are technically impossible for them to hope to execute without years of preparation. what a huge blunder this is! "the pupil comes to the teacher, let us say, with the _second hungarian rhapsody_ of liszt. it takes some fortitude for the conscientious teacher to tell the pupil that she should work with the _c major sonata_ of haydn instead. the pupil, with a kind of confidence that is, to say the least, dangerous, imagines that the teacher is trying to keep her back, and often goes to another teacher who will gratify her whim. "american girls think that they can do everything. nothing is beyond them. this is a country of great accomplishment, and they do not realize that in music 'art is long.' the virtuoso comes to a great metropolis and plays a moszkowski concerto of great difficulty. the next day the music stores exhaust their stocks of this work, and a dozen misses, who might with difficulty play a mendelssohn _song with words_, are buried in the avalanche of technical impossibilities that the alluring concerto provides. foreign débuts "unfortunately, a foreign _début_ seems to be necessary for the artist who would court the favor of the american public. foreign pianists get engagements long before their managers in america ever hear them. in the present state of affairs, if an american pianist were to have the ability of three liszts and three rubinsteins in one person, he could only hope for meager reward if he did not have a great european reputation behind him. "the condition is absurd and regrettable, but nevertheless true. we have many splendid teachers in america--as fine as there are in the world. "we have in our larger cities musical audiences whose judgment is as discriminating as that of the best european audiences. many an artist with a great european reputation has come to this country, and, failing 'to make good' in the judgment of our critics and audiences, went back with his reputation seriously impaired. nevertheless, as i have stated, the american artist without a european reputation, has no drawing power and therefore does not interest the managers and the piano manufacturers, who nowadays have largely supplanted the managers. this being so, i can only advise the american artist to do as others had to do. go to europe; give a few concerts in berlin, london, vienna or paris. let the concert director who arranges your concerts paper the house, but be sure you get a few critics in the audience. have your criticisms translated, and get them republished in american papers. then, if you have real merit, you may get a chance. "the interest in music in the united states at the present time is phenomenal. european peoples have no conception of it. nowhere in the world can such interest be found. audiences in different parts of the country do not differ very greatly from the standpoint of intelligent appreciation. when we consider the great uncultured masses of peasants in europe and the conditions of our own farmers, especially in the west, there is no basis of comparison. america is already a musical country, a very musical country. it is only in its failure to properly support native musicians that we are subject to criticism. practical suggestions "to the young man or woman who would learn 'the secret of public appearance' i would say: "1. look deeply into your natural qualifications. use every morsel of judgment you possess to endeavor to determine whether you are talented or simply 'clever' at music. court the advice of unbiased professional musicians and meditate upon the difficulties leading to a successful career, and do not decide to add one more musician to the world until you are confident of your suitability for the work. remember that this moment of decision is a very important time and that you may be upon the threshold of a dangerous mistake. remember that there are thousands of successful and happy teachers for one successful virtuoso. "2. after you have determined to undertake the career of the concert performer let nothing stand in the way of study, except the consideration of your health. success with a broken-down body and a shattered mind is a worthless conquest. remember that if you wish a permanent position you must be thoroughly trained in all branches of your art. "3. avoid charlatanism and the kind of advertisement that will bring you notoriety at the sacrifice of your self-respect and the respect of your best friends. remember that real worth is, after all, the thing that brings enduring fame. "4. study the public. seek to find out what pleases it, but never lower the standards of your art. read the best literature. study pictures. travel. broaden your mind. acquire general culture. "5. be careful of your stage deportment. endeavor to do nothing at the keyboard that will emphasize any personal eccentricity. always be sincere and true to your own nature, but within these limits try to make a pleasing impression. "6. always be your own severest critic. be not easily satisfied with yourself. hitch your wagon to a star. let your standard of perfection be the very highest. always strive to reach that standard. never play in public a piece that you have not thoroughly mastered. there is nothing more valuable than public confidence. once secured, it is the greatest asset an artist can possess. "i have repeatedly been asked to give ten rules for practice. "it is not possible to formulate ten all-comprehensive rules that could be applied in every case, but the following suggestions will be found valuable to many students: "1. concentrate during every second of your practice. to concentrate means to bring all your thinking powers to bear upon one central point with the greatest possible intensity. without such concentration nothing can be accomplished during the practice period. one hour of concentrated thinking is worth weeks of thoughtless practice. it is safe to say that years are being wasted by students in this country who fail to get the most out of their practice because they do not know how to concentrate. a famous thinker has said: 'the evidence of superior genius is the power of intellectual concentration.' "2. divide your practice time into periods of not more than two hours. you will find it impossible to concentrate properly if you attempt to practice more than two hours at a time. do not have an arbitrary program of practice work, for this course is liable to make your work monotonous. for one who practices four hours (and that is enough for almost any student), one hour for purely technical work, one hour for bach, and two hours for pieces is to be recommended. "3. in commencing your practice, play over your piece once or twice before beginning to memorize. then, after working through the entire composition, pick out the more difficult passages for special attention and reiteration. "4. always practice slowly at first. this is simply another way of telling the pupil to concentrate. even after you have played your piece at the required speed and with reasonable confidence that it is correct, never fail to go back now and then and play it at the speed at which you learned it. this is a practice which many virtuosos follow. pieces that they have played time and time again before enthusiastic audiences are re-studied by playing them very slowly. this is the only real way to undo mistakes that are bound to creep into one's performance when pieces are constantly played in a rapid tempo. "5. do not attempt to practice your whole piece at first. take a small section or even a phrase. if you take a longer section than say sixteen bars, you will find it difficult to avoid mistakes. of course, when the piece is mastered you should have all these sections so unified that you can play the entire composition smoothly and without a break. "6. first memorize _mentally_ the section you have selected for study, and then practice it. if you do not know it well enough to practice it from memory, you have not grasped its musical content, but are playing mechanically. "7. occasionally memorize backwards, that is, take the last few measures and learn them thoroughly, then take the preceding measures and continue in this way until the whole is mastered. even after you have played the piece many times, this process often compels a concentration that is beneficial. "8. when studying, remember that practice is simply a means of cultivating habits. if you play correctly from the start you will form good habits; if you play carelessly and faultily your playing will grow continually worse. consequently, play so slowly and correctly from the start that you may insure the right fingering, phrasing, tone, touch (staccato, legato, portamento, etc.), pedaling and dynamic effects. if you postpone the attainment of any of these qualities to a later date they are much more difficult to acquire. "9. always listen while you are playing. music is intended to be heard. if you do not listen to your own playing it is very probable that other people will not care to listen to it either. "10. never attempt to play anything in public that you have just finished studying. when you are through working upon a piece, put it away to be musically digested, then after some time repeat the same process, and again the third time, when your piece will, have become a part of yourself." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series iv fanny bloomfield-zeisler 1. how should the public appearances of talented children be controlled? 2. what is the best material for the development of a mental technic? 3. should one pin one's faith to any one method? 4. what combines to make a program attractive? 5. what should be artist's main object in giving a concert? 6. what part does personality play in the performer's success? 7. what is one of the greatest faults in musical educational work in america? 8. how should practice time be divided? 9. may one memorize "backwards"? 10. why should one listen while playing? ferruccio benvenuto busoni biographical ferruccio benvenuto busoni was born at empoli, near florence, italy, april 1, 1866. his father was a clarinetist and his mother whose maiden name was weiss, indicating her german ancestry was an excellent pianist. his first teachers were his parents. so pronounced was his talent that he made his début at the age of eight in vienna, austria. he then studied in the austrian city of graz with w. a. remy, whose right name was dr. wilhelm mayer. this able teacher aside from being a learned jurist was also devoted to music and had among his other pupils no less a person than felix weingartner. in 1881 busoni toured italy and was made a member of the reale accademia filharmonica at bologna. in 1886 he went to reside at leipsic. two years later he became teacher of pianoforte at the helsingfors conservatory in the finnish capital. in 1890 he captured the famous rubinstein prizes for both pianoforte and composition. in the same year he became professor of pianoforte playing at the moscow imperial conservatory. the next year he accepted a similar position in the new england conservatory at boston,--returning to europe for another tour in 1893. after many successful tours he accepted the position of director of the meisterschule at the imperial conservatory in vienna. his compositions include over one hundred published opus numbers, the most pretentious probably being his _choral concerto_. his editions of bach are masterpieces of technical and artistic erudition. (the following conference was conducted in english.) [illustration: ferruccio b. busoni] vii important details in piano study ferruccio benvenuto busoni the significance of the detail "some years ago i met a very famous artist whose celebrity rested upon the wonderful colored glass windows that he had produced. he was considered by most of his contemporaries the greatest of all makers of high-art windows. his fame had extended throughout the artistic circles of all europe. a little remark he made to me illustrates the importance of detail better than anything of which i can think at present. "he said, 'if a truly great work of art in the form of a stained glass window should be accidentally shattered to little bits, one should be able to estimate the greatness of the whole window by examining one of the fragments even though all the other pieces were missing.' "in fine piano playing all of the details are important. i do not mean to say that if one were in another room that one could invariably tell the ability of an artist by hearing him strike one note, but if the note is heard in relation to the other notes in a composition, its proportionate value should be so delicately and artistically estimated by the highly trained performer, that it forms part of the artistic whole. "for instance, it is quite easy to conceive of compositions demanding a very smooth running performance in which one jarring or harsh note indicating faulty artistic calculation upon the part of the player would ruin the entire interpretation. as examples of this one might cite the bach _choral vorspiel_, _nun freut euch_, of which i have made an arrangement, and such a composition as the chopin prelude opus 28, no. 3, with its running accompaniment in the left hand. "it is often perfection in little things which distinguishes the performance of the great pianist from that of the novice. the novice usually manages to get the so-called main points, but he does not work for the little niceties of interpretation which are almost invariably the defining characteristic of the interpretations of the real artist--that is, the performer who has formed the habit of stopping at nothing short of his highest ideal of perfection. learning to listen "there is a detail which few students observe which is of such vast importance that one is tempted to say that the main part of successful musical progress depends upon it. this is the detail of learning to listen. every sound that is produced during the practice period should be heard. that is, it should be heard with ears open to give that sound the intelligent analysis which it deserves. "anyone who has observed closely and taught extensively must have noticed that hours and hours are wasted by students strumming away on keyboards and giving no more attention to the sounds they produce than would the inmates of a deaf and dumb asylum. these students all expect to become fine performers even though they may not aim to become virtuosos. to them the piano keyboard is a kind of gymnasium attached to a musical instrument. they may of course acquire strong fingers, but they will have to learn to listen before they can hope to become even passable performers. "at my own recitals no one in the audience listens more attentively than i do. i strive to hear every note and while i am playing my attention is so concentrated upon the one purpose of delivering the work in the most artistic manner dictated by the composer's demands and my conception of the piece, that i am little conscious of anything else. i have also learned that i must continually have my mind alert to opportunities for improvement. i am always in quest of new beauties and even while playing in public it is possible to conceive of new details that come like revelations. "the artist who has reached the period when he fails to be on the outlook for details of this kind and is convinced that in no possible way could his performances be improved, has reached a very dangerous stage of artistic stagnation which will result in the ruin of his career. there is always room for improvement, that is the development of new details, and it is this which gives zest and intellectual interest to the work of the artist. without it his public efforts would become very tame and unattractive. self development "in my own development as an artist it has been made evident to me, time and time again, that success comes from the careful observance of details. all students should strive to estimate their own artistic ability very accurately. a wrong estimate always leads to a dangerous condition. if i had failed to attend to certain details many years ago, i would have stopped very far short of anything like success. "i remember that when i concluded my term as professor of piano at the new england conservatory of music i was very conscious of certain deficiencies in my style. notwithstanding the fact that i had been accepted as a virtuoso in europe and in america and had toured with great orchestras such as the boston symphony orchestra, i knew better than anyone else that there were certain details in my playing that i could not afford to neglect. "for instance, i knew that my method of playing the trill could be greatly improved and i also knew that i lacked force and endurance in certain passages. fortunately, although a comparatively young man, i was not deceived by the flattery of well-meaning, but incapable critics, who were quite willing to convince me that my playing was as perfect as it was possible to make it. every seeker of artistic truth is more widely awake to his own deficiencies than any of his critics could possibly be. "in order to rectify the details i have mentioned as well as some i have not mentioned, i have come to the conclusion that i must devise an entirely new technical system. technical systems are best when they are individual. speaking theoretically, every individual needs a different technical system. every hand, every arm, every set of ten fingers, every body and, what is of greatest importance, every intellect is different from every other. i consequently endeavored to get down to the basic laws underlying the subject of technic and make a system of my own. "after much study, i discovered what i believed to be the technical cause of my defects and then i returned to europe and for two years i devoted myself almost exclusively to technical study along the individual lines i had devised. to my great delight details that had always defied me, the rebellious trills, the faltering bravura passages, the uneven runs, all came into beautiful submission and with them came a new delight in playing. finding individual faults "i trust that my experience will set some ambitious piano students to thinking and that they may be benefited by it. there is always a way of correcting deficiencies if the way can only be found. the first thing, however, is to recognize the detail itself and then to realize that instead of being a detail it is a matter of vast importance until it has been conquered and brought into submission. in playing, always note where your difficulties seem to lie. then, when advisable, isolate those difficulties and practice them separately. this is the manner in which all good technical exercises are devised. "your own difficulty is the difficulty which you should practice most. why waste time in practicing passages which you can play perfectly well? one player may have difficulty in playing trills, while to another player of equal general musical ability trills may be perfectly easy. in playing arpeggios, however, the difficulties which prove obstacles to the players may be entirely reversed. the one who could play the trill perfectly might not be able, under any circumstance, to play an arpeggio with the requisite smoothness and true legato demanded, while the student who found the trill impossible possesses the ability to run arpeggios and cadenzas with the fluency of a forest rivulet. "all technical exercises must be given to the pupil with great discretion and judgment just as poisonous medicines must be administered to the patient with great care. the indiscriminate giving of technical exercises may impede progress rather than advance the pupil. simply because an exercise happens to come in a certain position in a book of technical exercises is no reason why the particular pupil being taught needs that exercise at that particular time. some exercises which are not feasible and others which are inexpedient at a certain time, may prove invaluable later in the pupil's progress. "take the famous tausig exercises, for instance. tausig was a master of technic who had few, if any, equals in his time. his exercises are for the most part very ingenious and useful to advanced players, but when some of them are transposed into other keys as their composer demands they become practically impossible to play with the proper touch, etc. furthermore, one would be very unlikely to find a passage demanding such a technical feat in the compositions of any of the great masters of the piano. consequently, such exercises are of no practical value and would only be demanded by a teacher with more respect for tradition than common sense. details of phrasing and accentuation "some students look upon phrasing as a detail that can be postponed until other supposedly more important things are accomplished. the very musical meaning of any composition depends upon the correct understanding and delivery of the phrases which make that composition. to neglect the phrases would be about as sensible as it would be for the great actor to neglect the proper thought division in the interpretation of his lines. the greatest masterpiece of dramatic literature whether it be _romeo and juliet_, _antigone_, _la malade imaginaire_ or _the doll's house_ becomes nonsense if the thought divisions indicated by the verbal phrases are not carefully determined and expressed. "great actors spend hours and hours seeking for the best method of expressing the author's meaning. no pianist of ability would think of giving less careful attention to phrasing. how stupid it would be for the actor to add a word that concluded one sentence to the beginning of the next sentence. how erroneous then is it for the pupil to add the last note of one phrase to the beginning of the next phrase. phrasing is anything but a detail. "fine phrasing depends first upon a knowledge of music which enables one to define the limitations of the phrase and then upon a knowledge of pianoforte playing which enables one to execute it properly. phrasing is closely allied to the subject of accentuation and both subjects are intimately connected with that of fingering. without the proper fingers it is often impossible to execute certain phrases correctly. generally, the accents are considered of importance because they are supposed to fall in certain set parts of given measures, thus indicating the meter. "in instructing very young pupils it may be necessary to lead them to believe that the time must be marked in a definite manner by such accents, but as the pupil advances he must understand that the measure divisions are inserted principally for the purpose of enabling him to read easily. he should learn to look upon each piece of music as a beautiful tapestry in which the main consideration is the principal design of the work as a whole and not the invisible marking threads which the manufacturer is obliged to put in the loom in order to have a structure upon which the tapestry may be woven. bach, bach, bach "in the study of the subject of accentuation and phrasing it would not be possible for anyone to recommend anything more instructive than the works of johann sebastian bach. the immortal thüringian composer was the master-weaver of all. his tapestries have never been equalled in refinement, color, breadth and general beauty. why is bach so valuable for the student? this is an easy question to answer. it is because his works are so constructed that they compel one to study these details. even if the student has only mastered the intricacies of the _two voice inventions_, it is safe to say that he has become a better player. more than this, bach forces the student to think. "if the student has never thought before during his practice periods, he will soon find that it is quite impossible for him to encompass the difficulties of bach without the closest mental application. in fact, he may also discover that it is possible for him to work out some of his musical problems while away from the keyboard. many of the most perplexing musical questions and difficulties that have ever confronted me have been solved mentally while i have been walking upon the street or lying in bed at night. "sometimes the solution of difficult details comes in the twinkling of an eye. i remember that when i was a very young man i was engaged to play a concerto with a large symphony orchestra. one part of the concerto had always troubled me, and i was somewhat apprehensive about it. during one of the pauses, while the orchestra was playing, the correct interpretation came to me like a flash. i waited until the orchestra was playing very loud and made an opportunity to run over the difficult passage. of course, my playing could not be heard under the _tutti_ of the orchestra, and when the time came for the proper delivery of the passage it was vastly better than it would have been otherwise. "i never neglect an opportunity to improve, no matter how perfect a previous interpretation may have seemed to me. in fact, i often go directly home from the concert and practice for hours upon the very pieces that i have been playing, because during the concert certain new ideas have come to me. these ideas are very precious, and to neglect them or to consider them details to be postponed for future development would be ridiculous in the extreme." questions on style, interpretation, expression and technic of piano playing series v ferruccio benvenuto busoni 1. what is it which distinguishes the performance of the great pianist from that of the novice? 2. upon what detail of interpretation does musical performance most depend? 3. should the student continually estimate his own ability? 4. which difficulty should you practice most? 5. what was the principle which made the tausig exercises valuable? 6. upon what does fine phrasing depend? 7. why is it that the compositions of johann sebastian bach are so useful in piano study? 8. how may complex musical problems be solved mentally? 9. is it advisable to isolate difficulties and practice them separately? 10. how should one seize opportunities to improve? teresa carreño biographical teresa carreño was born at caracas, venezuela, december 22, 1853. she descended from one of the foremost families of spanish america, which boasted of simon bolivar "the washington of south america" as one of its members. artists have been known among her ancestors as far back as the fourteenth century when the famous painter carreño lived in spain. mme. carreño's first teacher was her father. later she studied with a german teacher in her native country. at seven she played the _rondo capriccio_ of mendelssohn with great _éclat_. a revolution obliged the carreño family to move to new york. the death of a friend to whom funds had been entrusted placed the party of eighteen refugees in dire straits and a concert was arranged at which the tiny teresa came to the front and secured sufficient means for their existence. gottschalk, then in the height of his fame in new york, became the child's next teacher. she remained with him for two years. then she went to paris and became a pupil of georges mathias, the famous disciple of chopin. her success as a virtuoso pianist in europe excited the attention of rubinstein who devoted a great deal of time to giving her invaluable advice and instruction in interpretation. indeed rubinstein was so proud of her that he repeatedly introduced her as his daughter in art and would jokingly say "are not our hands exactly alike?" mme. carreño's brilliance, force, breadth of thought and almost sensuous love for the beautiful made her numerous tours through all of the music-loving countries remarkably successful. [illustration: teresa carreño] viii distinctive piano playing teresa carreño early evidences of individuality it is difficult for me to discuss the subject of individuality without recollecting one of the most impressive and significant events of my entire career. when i was taken to europe as a child, for further study, it was my good fortune to meet and play for the immortal franz liszt. he seemed deeply interested in my playing, and with the kindliness for which he was always noted he gave me his blessing, a kind of artistic sacrament that has had a tremendous influence upon all my work as an artist. he laid his hand upon my head and among other things said: "little girl, with time you will be one of us. don't imitate anyone. keep yourself true to yourself. cultivate your individuality and do not follow blindly in the paths of others." in this one thought liszt embodied a kind of a pedagogical sermon which should be preached every day in all the schools, conservatories and music studios of the world. nothing is so pitiful as the evidences of a strong individuality crushed out by an artificial educational system which makes the system itself of paramount importance and the individual of microbic significance. the signs of individuality may be observed in little folks at a very early age. with some children they are not very pronounced, and the child seems like hundreds of others without any particular inclination, artistic or otherwise. it is then that the teacher's powers of divination should be brought into play. before any real progress can be made the nature of the child must be studied carefully. in the case of other children, the individuality is very marked at an early age. as a rule, the child with the marked individuality is the one from whom the most may be expected later in life. sometimes this very individuality is mistaken for precocity. this is particularly the case with musicians. in a few instances the individuality of the master has been developed late in life, as was the case of richard wagner, whose early individual tendencies were toward the drama rather than music. new problems at every step the teacher in accepting a new pupil should realize that there at once arises new problems at every step. the pupil's hand, mind, body and soul may be in reality different from those of every other pupil the teacher has taught. the individual peculiarities of the hand should be carefully considered. if the hand has long, tapering fingers, with the fingers widely separated, it will need quite different treatment from that of the pupil with a short, compact, muscular hand. if the pupil's mind indicates mental lethargy or a lack of the proper early educational training, this must be carefully considered by the teacher. if the pupil's body is frail and the health uncertain, surely the teacher will not think of prescribing the same work she would prescribe for a robust, energetic pupil who appears never to have had a sick day. one pupil might be able to practice comfortably for four and five hours a day, while another would find her energy and interest exhausted in two hours. in fact, i would consider the study of individuality the principal care or study of the teacher. the individuality of different virtuoso performers is very marked. although the virtuoso aspires to encompass all styles--that is, to be what you would call an "all-around" player--it is, nevertheless, the individuality of the player that adds the additional charm to the piano-recital. you hear a great masterpiece executed by one virtuoso, and when you hear the same composition played by another you will detect a difference, not of technical ability or of artistic comprehension, but rather of individuality. rembrandt, rubens and vandyke might have all painted from the same model, but the finished portrait would have been different, and that difference would have been a reflection of the individuality of the artist. the teacher's responsibility again let me emphasize the necessity for the correct "diagnosis" of the pupil's individuality upon the part of the teacher. unless the right work is prescribed by the teacher, the pupil will rarely ever survive artistically. it is much the same as with the doctor. if the doctor gives the wrong medicine and the patient dies, surely the doctor is to blame. it makes no difference whether the doctor had good intentions or not. the patient is dead and that is the end of all. i have little patience with these people who have such wonderful intentions, but who have neither the ability, courage nor willingness to carry out these intentions. many teachers would like to accomplish a very great deal for their pupils, but alas! they are either not able or they neglect those very things which make the teacher's work a mission. one of the teacher's greatest responsibilities lies in determining at first upon a rational educational course by divining the pupil's individuality. remember that pupils are not all like sheep to be shorn in the same identical fashion with the same identical shears. edward macdowell's individuality one of the most remarkable cases of a pronounced musical individuality was that of the late edward macdowell, who came to me for instruction for a considerable time. he was then quite youthful, and his motives from the very first were of the highest and noblest. his ideals were so lofty that he required little stimulation or urging of any kind. here it was necessary to study the pupil's nature very carefully, and provide work that would develop his keenly artistic individuality. i remember that he was extremely fond of grieg, and the marked and original character of the norwegian tone-poet made a deep impression upon him. he was poetical, and loved to study and read poetry. to have repressed macdowell in a harsh or didactic manner would have been to have demolished those very characteristics which, in later years, developed in such astonishing fashion that his compositions have a distinctiveness and a style all their own. it gives me great pleasure to place his compositions upon my programs abroad, and i find that they are keenly appreciated by music lovers in the old world. if macdowell had not had a strong individuality, and if he had not permitted this individuality to be developed along normal lines, his compositions would not be the treasures to our art that they are. developing individuality through poetry if the teacher discovers a pupil with apparent musical talent, but whose nature has not been developed to appreciate the beautiful and romantic in this wonderful world of ours, he will find it quite impossible to alter the pupil's individuality in this respect by work at the keyboard alone. the mundane, prosaic individual who believes that the sole aim of musical study is the acquisition of technic, or the magic of digital speed, must be brought to realize that this is a fault of individuality which will mar his entire career unless it is intelligently corrected. years and years spent in practice will not make either a musician or a virtuoso out of one who can conceive of nothing more than how many times he can play a series of notes within the beats of the metronome, beating 208 times a minute. speed does not constitute virtuosity, nor does the ability to unravel the somewhat intricate keyboard puzzles of bach and brahms make in itself fine piano playing. the mind of the artist must be cultured; in fact, quite as cultured as that of the composer who conceived the music. culture comes from the observation of many things: nature, architecture, science, machinery, sculpture, history, men and women, and poetry. i advise aspiring music students to read a great deal of poetry. i find great inspiration in shakespeare, inspiration which i know is communicated to my interpretations of musical masterpieces at my concerts. who can remain unmoved by the mystery and psychology of _hamlet_, the keen suffering and misery of _king lear_, the bitter hate and revenge of _othello_, the sweet devotion of _romeo and juliet_, the majesty of _richard iii_, and the fairy beauty of _a midsummer night's dream_? in this wonderful kaleidoscope of all the human passions one can find a world of inspiration. i am also intensely fond of goethe, heine, and alfred de musset. it gives me pleasure to compare them to the great masters of music. shakespeare i compare to brahms, goethe to bach and beethoven, and heine and musset to chopin and liszt. cultivating vivacity and brilliancy vivacity and brilliancy in playing are largely matters of temperament and a fluent technic. i owe a great deal in this respect to gottschalk. when he came back to america fresh from the hands of the inimitable chopin, he took the most minute pains to cultivate this characteristic in my playing. chopin's own playing was marked by delicacy and an intensity that was apart from the bravura playing of most of the artists of his time. gottschalk was a keen observer, and he did everything possible to impart this style to me. i have used the studies of czerny, liszt, henselt and clementi to develop brilliancy with pupils. it should be remembered that the root of all brilliant playing lies in one thing--accuracy. without accuracy any attempt at brilliancy must result in "mussiness." it is impossible to explain these things by means of books and theories. remember what goethe says: "alle theorie is grau, mein freund" (all theory is foggy or hard to comprehend). one can say fifty times as much in twenty minutes as one can put in a book. books are necessary, but by no means depend entirely upon books for technical instruction. individuals who are careless possess a trait that will seriously mar their individuality as musicians and artists. carelessness is so often taken for "abandon" in playing. "abandon" is something quite different and pertains to that unconsciousness of technical effort which only comes to the artist after years of practice. to play with "abandon" and miss a few notes in this run, play a few false notes in the next, strike the wrong bass note here and there, mumble trills and overlook the correct phrasing entirely, with the idea that you are doing the same thing you have seen some great virtuoso do, is simply the superlative degree of carelessness. to one whose individuality is marred by carelessness let me recommend very slow playing, with the most minute attention to detail. technically speaking, czerny and bach are of great value in correcting carelessness. in czerny the musical structure of the compositions is so clearly and openly outlined that any error is easily detected, while in bach the structure is so close and compact that it is difficult to make an error without interrupting the movement of some other voice that will reveal the error. the main consideration, however, is personal carefulness, and it makes little difference what the study is, so long as the student himself takes great pains to see that he is right, and exactly right, before he attempts to go ahead. most musicians, however, would say that bach was the one great stone upon which our higher technical structure must firmly stand. some individuals are so superficial and so "frothy" that it is difficult to conceive of their doing anything serious or really worth while. it is very hard for the teacher to work with such a pupil, because they have not realized themselves as yet. they have not looked into their lives and discerned those things which make life of most importance. life is not all play, nor is it all sorrow. but sorrow often does much to develop the musician's character, to make him look into himself and discover his more serious purposes. this might also be accomplished by some such means of self-introspection as "christian science." although i am not a "christian scientist," i am a great believer in its wonderful principles. the greatest care must be taken in developing the individualities of the superficial pupils. to give them bach or brahms at the outstart would be to irritate them. they must be led to a fondness for music of a deeper or more worthy character by gradual steps in that direction. in my own case i was fortunate in having the advice of mature and famous musicians, and as a child was given music of a serious order only. i have always been grateful for this experience. at one of my first new york concerts i had the honor of having theodore thomas as first violinist, and i well remember his natural bent for music of a serious order, which was in a decided contrast to the popular musical taste of the times. the importance of studying musical history every composer has a pronounced individuality. to the experienced musician this individuality becomes so marked that he can often detect the composer's style in a composition which he has never heard. the artist studies the individuality of the composer through the study of his biography, through the study of musical history in general and through the analysis of individual compositions. every music student should be familiar with the intensely necessary and extremely valuable subject of musical history. how else can he become familiar with the personal individualities of the great composers? the more i know of chopin, beethoven, scarlatti or mendelssohn as men, and the more i know of the times in which they lived, the closer i feel to the manner in which they would have wished their compositions interpreted. consider how markedly different are the individualities of wagner and haydn, and how different the interpretations of the works of these masters should be. strauss and debussy are also very different in their methods of composition. strauss seems to me a tremendous genius who is inventing a new musical language as he goes. debussy does not appeal to me in the same manner. he always seems to be groping for musical ideas, while with strauss the greatness of his ideas is always evident and all-compelling. in closing, let me say that _time_, _experience_ and _work_ are the moulders of all individuality. few of us close our days with the same individualities which become evident in our youth. we are either growing better or worse all the time. we rarely stand still. to the musician work is the great sculptor of individuality. as you work and as you think, so will you be. no deed, no thought, no hope is too insignificant to fail to influence your nature. as through work we become better men and women, so through work do we become better musicians. carlyle has beautifully expressed this thought in "past and present" thus: "the latest gospel in this world is, 'know thy work and do it.' blessed is he who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness. he has a work, a life purpose; he has found it and will follow it." questions on style, interpretation, expression and technic of piano playing series vi teresa carreño 1. why should imitation be avoided? 2. should individuality in playing be developed at an early age? 3. should individual physical peculiarities be taken into consideration? 4. in what way was edward macdowell's individuality marked? 5. how may individuality be developed through poetry? 6. what studies are particularly useful in the cultivation of brilliant playing? 7. what is the best remedy for careless playing? 8. how must superficial pupils be treated? 9. why is the study of musical history so important? 10. what may be called the sculptor of individuality in music? [illustration: o. gabrilowitsch] ossip gabrilowitsch biographical ossip gabrilowitsch was born in st. petersburg, february 8, 1878. his father was a well-known jurist of the russian capital. his brothers were musical and his first teacher was one of his brothers. later, he was taken to anton rubinstein who earnestly advocated a career as a virtuoso. accordingly he entered the classes of victor tolstoff at the st. petersburg conservatory, then under the supervision of rubinstein himself. his frequent personal conferences with the latter were of immense value to him. thereafter he went to vienna and studied with leschetizky for two years. he has made many tours of europe and america as a piano virtuoso and has also appeared as an orchestral conductor with pronounced success. he was a great friend of the late mark twain (samuel l. clemens) and married one of his daughters. (the following conference was conducted in english.) ix essentials of touch ossip gabrilowitsch "modern pianoforte teachers in many instances seem to make deliberate attempts to complicate the very simple matter of touch. in the final analyses the whole study of touch may be resolved into two means of administering force to the keyboard, _i. e._, weight and muscular activity. the amount of pressure brought to bear upon the keys depends upon the amount of arm weight and upon the quickness with which the muscles of the hand, forearm, full-arm and back permit the key to be struck. upon these two means of administering force must depend whatever differentiation in dynamic power and tonal quality the player desires to produce. the various gradations of tone which the virtuoso's hand and arm are trained to execute are so minute that it is impossible for me to conceive of a scientific instrument or scale to measure them. physiologists have attempted to construct instruments to do this, but little of value has come from such experiments. a rigid arm undesirable "only a comparatively few years ago thousands of teachers were insisting upon having their pupils keep the arms in a still, even rigid, condition during practice. this naturally resulted in the stiffest imaginable kind of a touch, and likewise in a mechanical style of playing that made what has come to be known in later days as 'tone color' impossible. "at this day the finger touch as it was formerly known has almost gone out of existence. by finger touch i refer to the old custom of holding the hand and forearm almost rigid and depending upon the muscular strength of the fingers for all tonal effects. in fact, i so rarely employ the finger touch, except in combination with the arm touch, that it is almost an insignificant factor as far as my own playing is concerned. by this the reader must not think that the training of the fingers, and particularly the finger tips, is to be neglected. but this training, to my mind, is not so much a matter of acquiring digital strength to produce force as to accustom the fingers to strike the notes with the greatest possible accuracy and speed. this belongs rather to the realm of technic than to that of touch, and behind all technic is the intellect of the player. technic is a matter of training the finger tips to attack and leave the keys under the absolute discipline of the brain. touch has a much broader and wider significance. it is touch that reveals the soul of the player. touch a distinguishing characteristic "touch is the distinguishing characteristic which makes one player's music sound different from that of another, for it is touch that dominates the player's means of producing dynamic shading or tone quality. i know that many authorities contend that the quality of tone depends upon the instrument rather than upon the performer. nevertheless, i am reasonably confident that if i were to hear a number of pianists play in succession upon the same instrument behind a screen and one of these performers were to be my friend, harold bauer, i could at once identify his playing by his peculiarly individual touch. in fact, the trained ear can identify different individual characteristics with almost the same accuracy that we identify different voices. one could never forget leschetizky's touch, or that of many another contemporary pianist. "no matter how wonderful the pianist's technic--that is, how rapidly and accurately he can play passages of extraordinary difficulty, it is quite worthless unless he possesses that control over his touch which enables him to interpret the composer's work with the right artistic shading. a fine technic without the requisite touch to liberate the performer's artistic intelligence and 'soul' is like a gorgeous chandelier without the lights. until the lights are ignited all its beauty is obscured in darkness. with an excellent technic and a fine touch, together with a broad musical and general education and artistic temperament, the young player may be said to be equipped to enter the virtuoso field. combining different touches "as i have intimated, if the fingers are used exclusively a terribly dry tone must result. the full-arm touch, in which i experience a complete relaxation of the arm from the shoulder to the finger tips, is the condition i employ at most times. but the touches i use are combinations of the different finger, hand and arm touches. these lead to myriads of results, and only the experienced performer can judge where they should be applied to produce desired effects. "you will observe by placing your hand upon my shoulder that even with the movement of the single finger a muscular activity may be detected at the shoulder. this shows how completely relaxed i keep my entire arm during performance. it is only in this way that i can produce the right kind of singing tone in cantabile passages. sometimes i use one touch in one voice and an entirely different touch in another voice. the combinations are kaleidoscopic in their multiplicity. mechanical methods dangerous "i have never been in favor of the many automatic and mechanical methods of producing touch. they are all dangerous to my mind. there is only one real way of teaching, and that is through the sense of hearing of the pupil. the teacher should go to the piano and produce the desired tonal effect, and the pupil should listen and watch the teacher. then the pupil should be instructed to secure a similar result, and the teacher should persevere until the audible effect is nearly the same. if the pupil, working empirically, does not discover the means leading to this effect, the teacher should call the pupil's attention to some of the physical conditions leading to the result. if the teacher is unable to play well enough to illustrate this, and to secure the right kind of touch from his pupils, he has no business to be a teacher of advanced students. all the theory in the world will never lead to the proper results. "rubinstein paid little or no attention to the theory of touch, and, in fact, he frequently stated that he cared little about such things, but who could hear rubinstein's touch without being benefited? i believe that in teaching touch the teacher should first give his model of the touch required and then proceed from this positive ideal, by means of the so-called socratic method of inducing the pupil to produce a similar result through repeated questions. in this way the pupil will not be obliged to resign his individuality, as would be the case if he followed strict technical injunctions and rules. students should hear virtuosos "for the same reason it is advisable for the pupil to hear many fine pianists. he should never miss an opportunity to attend the concerts of great virtuosos. i can frankly say that i have learned as much from hearing the concerts of great performers as i have from any other source of educational inspiration. the pupil should listen intelligently and earnestly. when he hears what appeals to him as a particularly fine tonal effect, he should endeavor to note the means the pianist employs to produce this effect. "he must, however, learn to discriminate between affection or needless movement and the legitimate means to an end. consequent upon a relaxed full arm is the occasional dropping of the wrist below the level of the keyboard. a few great players practice this at a public recital, and lo! and behold! a veritable cult of 'wrist-droppers' arises and we see students raising and lowering the wrist with exaggerated mechanical stiffness and entirely ignoring the important end in which this wrist dropping was only an incident. methods, and still more methods "i am continually amused at the thousand and one different ways of striking the keys that teachers devise and then attach with the label 'method.' these varied contortions are, after all, largely a matter of vision, and have little effect upon the real musical results that the composition demands. touch, as i have previously said, all comes down to the question of the degree of weight applied to the keyboard and the degree of quickness with which it is applied. in rapid octave and staccato passages the hand touch is largely used. this is the touch most dependent upon local muscular activity. aside from this the combination of muscular and weight touch almost invariably obtain. don't neglect ear training "i desire to reiterate that if the ideal touch is presented to the pupil's mind, through the medium of the ear, he will be much more successful in attaining the artistic ends required. the pupil must realize clearly _what is good_ and _what is bad_, and his _aural sense_ must be continually educated in this respect. he should practice slowly and carefully at the keyboard until he is convinced that his arm is at all times relaxed. he cannot make his sense of touch too sensitive. he should even be able to sense the weight or upward pressure which brings the pianoforte key back into position after it has been depressed. the arm should feel as if it were floating, and should never be tense. "when i am playing i do not think of the arm motion. i am, of course, absorbed in the composition being performed. a relaxed arm has become second nature to me. it comes by itself. players are rarely able to tell just how they produce their results. there are too many contributing factors. even with the best-known performers the effects differ at different performances. it is impossible for the performer to give a program repeatedly in identically the same manner. if he did succeed in doing this, his playing would soon become stereotyped. "the teacher should, from the very beginning, seek to avoid stiffness and bad hand positions, such as crooked fingers or broken-in knuckles. if these details are neglected the pupil is liable to go through his entire musical career greatly hampered. i would earnestly advise all teachers to discourage the efforts of pupils to attain virtuoso heights unless they are convinced beyond the possibility of a doubt that the pupil has marvelous talent. the really great performers seem to be endowed with a 'god-given' insight in the matter of both technic and touch. they are unquestionably born for it. they possess the right mental and physical capacity for success. no amount of training would make a normandy dray horse that could compete with a kentucky thoroughbred on the race course. it is a pitiful sight to watch students who could not possibly become virtuosos slave year after year before an ivory and ebony tread-mill, when, if they realized their lack of personal qualifications, they could engage in teaching or in some other professional or mercantile line and take a delight in their music as an avocation that they would never find in professional playing. artistic interpretation paramount "to some, the matter of touch is of little significance. they are apparently born with an appreciation of tonal values that others might work years to attain in vain. those who imagine that touch is entirely a matter of finger tips are greatly mistaken. the ear is quite as important as the organs employed in administering the touch to the keyboard. the pianist should in reality not think of the muscles and nerves in his arm, nor of the ivory and ebony keys, nor of the hammers and strings in the interior of the instrument. he should think first and always of the kind of tone he is eliciting from the instrument, and determine whether it is the most appropriate tonal quality for the proper interpretation of the piece he is playing. he must, of course, spend years of hard thought and study in cultivating this ability to judge and produce the right touch, but the performer who is more concerned about the technical claims of a composition than its musical interpretation can only hope to give an uninteresting, uninspired, stilted performance that should rightly drive all intelligent hearers from his audience hall." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series vii ossip gabrilowitsch 1. what are the two means of administering touch? 2. state the effect of a rigid arm upon piano playing. 3. can a pianist's playing be distinguished by touch? 4. how do the muscles of the shoulder come into action in piano playing? 5. how should the sense of hearing be employed in piano playing? 6. how did rubinstein regard the theory of touch? 7. when is the hand touch generally employed? 8. how should the arm feel during the act of touch? 9. does the virtuoso hamper himself with details of technic during a performance? 10. what should be the pianist's first thought during the moment of performance? leopold godowsky biographical leopold godowsky was born at wilna, russia (russian poland), february 13, 1870. his father was a physician. when godowsky was nine years old he made his first public appearance as a pianist and met with instantaneous success--success so great that a tour of germany and poland was arranged for the child. when thirteen he entered the royal high school for music in berlin as the _protégé_ of a rich banker of königsberg. there he studied under bargeil and rudorff. in 1884 he toured america together with ovide musin, the violin virtuoso. two years later he became the pupil of saint-saëns in paris. in 1887 and 1888 he toured france and visited london, where he received a command to appear at the british court. in 1890 he returned to america and made this country his home for ten years, appearing frequently in concert and engaging in several tours. in 1894-1895 he became head of the piano department of the south broad street conservatory, philadelphia. he then became director of the piano department of the chicago conservatory and held this position for five years. in 1900 godowsky appeared in berlin and was immediately recognized as one of the great piano masters of his time. in 1909 he became director of the master school of piano playing connected with the imperial conservatory of vienna (a post previously held by emil sauer and f. b. busoni). his success as a teacher has been exceptional. his compositions, particularly his fifty studies upon chopin etudes, have won the admiration of the entire musical world. [illustration: leopold godowsky] x the real significance of technic leopold godowsky ideas upon technic often erroneous "it is quite impossible in a short talk to earnest music students to do more than discuss a few of the more important points in the subject proposed. it may safely be said at the start, however, that the popular conception of technic is quite an erroneous one and one that deserves correction. it is highly necessary that the student should have a correct attitude of mind regarding this matter. first of all, i distinguish between what might be called mere mechanics and technic. "the art of piano playing as a whole seems to divide itself into three quite distinct channels when it is considered from the educational standpoint. the first channel is that of mechanics. this would naturally include all that pertains to that branch of piano study which has to do with the exercises that develop the hand from the machine standpoint--that is, make it capable of playing with the greatest possible rapidity, the greatest possible power, when power is needed and also provide it with the ability to play those passages which, because of fingering or unusual arrangement of the piano keys, are particularly difficult to perform. the brain side of piano study "in the second channel we would find the study of the technic of the art of playing the instrument. technic differs from the mechanics of piano playing in that it has properly to do with the intellectual phase of the subject rather than the physical. it is the brain side of the study not the digital or the manual. to the average student who is short-sighted enough to spend hours hammering away at the keyboard developing the mechanical side of his work, a real conscious knowledge of the great saving he could effect through technic, would be a godsend. technic properly has to do with rhythm, tempo, accent, phrasing, dynamics, agogics, touch, etc. "the excellence of one's technic depends upon the accuracy of one's understanding of these subjects and his skill in applying them to his interpretations at the keyboard. mechanical skill, minus real technical grasp, places the player upon a lower footing than the piano-playing machines which really do play all the notes, with all the speed and all the power the operator demands. some of these instruments, indeed, are so constructed that many of the important considerations that we have placed in the realm of technic are reproduced in a surprising manner. the emotions in piano playing "however, not until man invents a living soul, can piano playing by machine include the third and vastly important channel through which we communicate the works of the masters to those who would hear them. that channel is the emotional or artistic phase of piano playing. it is the channel which the student must expect to develop largely through his own inborn artistic sense and his cultivated powers of observation of the playing of master pianists. it is the sacred fire communicated from one art generation to the next and modified by the individual emotions of the performer himself. "even though the performer may possess the most highly perfected mechanism, technical mastery which enables him to play great masterpieces effectively, if he does not possess the emotional insight, his performances will lack a peculiar subtlety and artistic power that will deprive him of becoming a truly great pianist. inspiring the student "exercises for the mechanical side of pianoforte playing abound. czerny alone wrote over one thousand opus numbers. there have also been valuable attempts to provide books to assist the student in his technical work, but it should always be remembered that this depends first of all upon understanding and then upon the ability to translate that understanding to the instrument. "there can never be any exercises in the emotional side of the student's work other than the entire literature of the instrument. one may as well try to capture the perfume of the flower as define the requirements of the emotional in pianoforte playing. a great deal may be done to inspire the student and suggest ideas which may bring him to the proper artistic appreciation of a passage, but it is this very indefinability which makes the emotional phase one of the most important of all. attendance at the recitals of artistic pianists is of great help in this connection. "the student, however, may learn a vast amount about real piano technic and apply his knowledge to his playing through the medium of the proper studies. for instance, in the subject of touch alone, there is a vast store of valuable information which can be gained from a review of the progressive steps through which this significant phase of the subject has passed during the last century. the art of piano playing, considered apart from that of the similar instruments which preceded the piano, is very little over one hundred years old. changes in the mechanism of the instrument "during this time many significant changes have been made in the mechanism of the instrument and in the methods of manufacture. these changes in the nature of the instrument have in themselves doubtless had much to do with changes in methods of touch as have the natural evolutions coming through countless experiments made by teachers and performers. thus we may speak of the subject of touch as being divided into three epochs, the first being that of czerny (characterized by a stroke touch), the second being that of the famous stuttgart conservatory (characterized by a pressure touch), and the third or new epoch which is characterized by weight playing. all my own playing is based upon the last named method, and i had the honor of being one of the first to make application of it when i commenced teaching some twenty years ago. the significance of weight playing "in this method of playing, the fingers are virtually 'glued to the keys' in that they leave them the least possible distance in order to accomplish their essential aims. this results in no waste motion of any kind, no loss of power and consequently the greatest possible conservation of energy. in this manner of playing the arm is so relaxed that it would fall to the side if the keyboard were removed from beneath it. since the hand and the arm are relaxed the back (top) of the hand is almost on a level with the forearm. "the high angular stroke which characterized the playing of the czerny epoch and which could hardly fail to cause tired muscles and unbearably stiff playing, is seen very little in these days. by means of it the student was taught to deliver a blow to the keyboard--a blow which permitted very little modification to the requirements of modern technic. "in my experience as a pianist and as a teacher, i have observed that the weight touch allows the greatest possible opportunity for the proper application of those all-important divisions of technic without which piano playing is not only inartistic, but devoid of all interest. weight playing permits nothing to interfere with discriminative phrasing, complicated rhythmical problems, the infinitely subtle variation of time for expressive purposes now classed under the head of agogics, all shades of dynamic gradation; in fact everything that falls in the domain of the artist pianist. moulding the fingers to the keys "in weight playing the fingers seem to mould the piano keys under them, the hand and arm are relaxed, but never heavy. the maximum of relaxation results in the minimum of fatigue. in legato playing, for instance, the fingers rest upon the fleshy part behind the tip rather than immediately upon the tip as they would in passage work when the player desired to have the effect of a string of pearls. the sensation in legato playing is that of pulling back rather than striking the keys. in passages where force is required the sensation is that of pushing. "much might be said of the sensibility of the finger tips as they come in contact with the ivory and ebony keys. most every artist has a strong consciousness that there is a very manifest relation between his emotional and mental conditions and his tactile sense, that is his highly developed sense of feeling at the finger tips on the keyboard. however, the phenomena may be explained from the psychological standpoint, it is nevertheless true that the feeling of longing, yearning, hope or soulful anticipation, for instance, induces a totally different kind of touch from that of anger, resentment or hate. "the artist who is incapable of communicating his emotions to the keyboard or who must depend upon artifice to stimulate emotions rarely electrifies his audiences. every concert is a test of the artist's sincerity, not merely an exhibition of his prowess, or his acrobatic accomplishments on the keyboard. he must have some vital message to convey to his audience or else his entire performance will prove meaningless, soulless, worthless. "that which is of great importance to him is to have the least possible barrier between his artistic conception of the work he would interpret and the sounds that are conveyed to the ears of his audience. if we obliterate the emotional side and depend upon artifice or what might be called in vulgar parlance "tricks of the trade," pianism will inevitably descend to a vastly lower level. by cultivating a sensibility in touch and employing the technical means which will bring the interpreter's message to the world with the least possible obstruction, we reach the highest in the art. those who would strain at gnats might contend that with the machinery of the instrument itself, intervening between the touch at the keyboard and the sounding wires, would make the influence of the emotions though the tactile sense (sense of touch) is wholly negligible. to this i can only reply that the experience of the artist and the teacher is always more reliable, more susceptible to finer appreciations of artistic values than that of the pure theorist, who views his problems through material rather than spiritual eyes. every observing pianist is familiar with the remarkable influence upon the nerves of the voice-making apparatus that any emotion makes. is it not reasonable to suppose that the finger tips possess a similar sensibility and that the interpretations of any highly trained artist are duly affected through them? individuality, character and temperament "indeed, individuality, character and temperament are becoming more and more significant in the highly organized art of pianoforte playing. remove these and the playing of the artist again becomes little better than that of a piano-playing machine. no machine can ever achieve the distinguishing charm that this trinity brings to pianoforte playing. whether the performer is a 'genius' who has carefully developed the performance of a masterpiece until it evidences that distinguishing mark of the authoritative interpretation, or whether he is a 'talent' who improvises as the mood of the moment inspires him and never plays the same composition twice in anything like a similar manner, he need not fear the rivalry of any machine so long as he preserves his individuality, character and temperament. genius and work "the fault with many students, however, is the very erroneous idea that genius or talent will take the place of study and work. they minimize the necessity for a careful painstaking consideration of the infinite details of technic. to them, the significance of the developments of bach, rameau, and scarlatti in fingering means nothing. they are content with the superficial. they are incapable of comparing the value of the advances made by von bülow, tausig and other innovators whose lives were given to a large extent to the higher development of the technic of the instrument. they struggle laboriously at the keyboard, imagining that they are dealing with the problem of technic, when in reality they are doing little more than performing a drill in a kind of musical gymnasium--a necessary drill to be sure, but at the same time quite worthless unless directed by a brain trained in the principles of the technic of the art. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series viii leopold godowsky 1. how may the mechanics of playing be distinguished from the larger subject of technic? 2. with what has technic to do? 3. what channel in the study of pianoforte must the pupil develop most thoroughly? 4. name three epochs into which the subject of touch may be divided. 5. how does weight playing differ from the high angular playing of the czerny epoch? 6. how should the fingers rest in legato playing? 7. what may be said of the sensitiveness of the finger tips? 8. by what device may pianism descend to a lower level? 9. what qualities must the student preserve above all things? 10. will genius or talent take the place of study and work? [illustration: katharine goodson] katharine goodson biographical miss katharine goodson was born at watford, herts, england. she commenced the study of music at so very youthful an age that she made several appearances in the english provinces before she was twelve years of age. her talent aroused such interest that she was sent to the royal academy of music in london. there she was placed under the artistic guidance of one of the foremost english teachers of pianoforte, oscar beringer, with whom she remained for six years. this was followed by four years under leschetizky in vienna. leschetizky saw splendid opportunities in such talented and regularly trained material and is said to have given particularly careful attention to miss goodson. it is not surprising that upon her return to london miss goodson made a profound impression upon the musical public and laid the foundation for a splendid reputation. she toured in england, germany, austria and america with great success. in the grove dictionary, her playing is described in the following manner: "it is marked by an amount of verve and animation that are most rare with the younger english pianists. she has a great command of tone gradation, admirable technical finish, genuine musical taste and considerable individuality of style." in 1903 miss goodson married mr. arthur hinton, one of the most brilliant of modern english composers. xi analyzing masterpieces katharine goodson the natural tendency to analyze "judging from the mischievous investigations of things in general, which seem so natural for the small boy to make, it would appear that our tendency to analyze things is innate. we also have innumerable opportunities to observe how children, to say nothing of primitive people, struggle to construct--to put this and that together for the purpose of making something new--in other words, to employ the opposite process to analysis, known as synthesis. moreover, it does not demand much philosophy to perceive that all scientific and artistic progress is based upon these very processes of analysis and synthesis. we pull things apart to find out how they are made and what they are made of. we put them together again to indicate the mastery of our knowledge. "the measure of musicianship is the ability to do. all the analyzing in the world will not benefit the pupil unless he can give some visible indications of his proficiency. indeed, important as the process is, it is possible to carry it to extremes and neglect the building process which leads to real accomplishment. the first step in analyzing a new piece "a great many of the pupils who have come to me indicate a lamentable neglect in an understanding of the very first things which should have been analyzed by the preparatory teachers. it is an expensive process to study with a public artist unless the preparation has been thoroughly made. reputation naturally places a higher monetary value upon the services of the virtuoso, and for the student to expect instruction in elementary points in analysis is obviously an extravagance. the virtuoso's time during the lesson period should be spent in the finer study of interpretation--not in those subjects which the elementary teacher should have completed. often the teacher of an advanced pupil is deceived at the start and assumes that the pupil has a knowledge, which future investigations reveal that he does not possess. "for instance, the pupil should be able to determine the general structure of a piece he is undertaking and should be so familiar with the structure that it becomes a form of second nature to him. if the piece is a sonata he should be able to identify the main theme and the secondary theme whenever they appear or whenever any part of them appears. inability to do this indicates the most superficial kind of study. "the student should know enough of the subject of form in general to recognize the periods into which the piece is divided. without this knowledge how could he possibly expect to study with understanding? even though he has passed the stage when it is necessary for him to mark off the periods, he should not study a new piece without observing the outlines--the architectural plans the composer laid down in constructing the piece. it is one thing for a sir christopher wren to make the plans of a great cathedral like st. paul's and quite another thing for him to get master builders to carry out those plans. by studying the composer's architectural plan carefully the student will find that he is saving an immense amount of time. for example, let us consider the chopin _f minor fantasie_. in this composition the main theme comes three times, each time in a different key. once learned in one key, it should be very familiar in the next key. "the student should also know something of the history of the dance, and he should be familiar with the characteristics of the different national dances. each national dance form has something more than a rhythm--it has an atmosphere. the word atmosphere may be a little loose in its application here, but there seems to be no other word to describe what i mean. the flavor of the spanish bolero is very different from the hungarian czardas, and who could confound the intoxicating swirl of the italian tarantella with the stately air of cluny lace and silver rapiers which seems to surround the minuet? the minuet, by the way, is frequently played too fast. the minuet from beethoven's eighth symphony is a notable example. many conductors have made the error of rushing through it. dr. hans richter conducts it with the proper tempo. this subject in itself takes a tremendous amount of consideration and the student should never postpone this first step in the analysis of the works he is to perform. the poetic idea of the piece "despite the popular impression that music is imitative in the sense of being able to reproduce different pictures and different emotions, it is really very far from it. the subject of program music and illustrative music is one of the widest in the art, and at the same time one of the least definite. except in cases like the beethoven _pastoral symphony_, where the composer has made obvious attempts to suggest rural scenes, composers do not as a rule try to make either aquarelles or cycloramas with their music. they write music for what it is worth as music, not as scenery. very often the public or some wily publisher applies the title, as in the case of the _moonlight sonata_ or some of the mendelssohn _songs without words_. of course there are some notable exceptions, and many teachers may be right in trying to stimulate the sluggish imaginations of some pupils with fanciful stories. however, when there is a certain design in a piece which lends itself to the suggestion of a certain idea, as does, for instance, the liszt-wagner _spinning song_ from the _flying dutchman_, it is interesting to work with a specific picture in view--but never forgetting the real beauty of the piece purely as a beautiful piece of music. "some pieces with special titles are notoriously misnamed and carry no possible means of definitely intimating what the composer intended. even some forms are misleading in their names. the _scherzos_ of chopin are often very remote from the playful significance of the word--a significance which is beautifully preserved in the _scherzos_ of mendelssohn. studying the rhythm "a third point in analyzing a new piece might be analyzing the rhythm. it is one thing to understand or to comprehend a rhythm and another to preserve it in actual playing. rhythm depends upon the arrangement of notes and accents in one or two measures which give a characteristic swing to the entire composition. rhythm is an altar upon which many idols are smashed. sometimes one is inclined to regard rhythm as a kind of sacred gift. whatever it may be, it is certainly most difficult to acquire or better to absorb. a good rhythm indicates a finely balanced musician--one who knows how and one who has perfect self-control. all the book study in the world will not develop it. it is a knack which seems to come intuitively or 'all at once' when it does come. my meaning is clear to anyone who has struggled with the problem of playing two notes against three, for at times it seems impossible, but in the twinkling of an eye the conflicting rhythms apparently jump into place, and thereafter the pupil has little difficulty with them. "rhythmic swing is different from rhythm, but is allied to it as it is allied to tempo. to get the swing--the impelling force--the student must have played many pieces which have a tendency to develop this swing. the big waltzes of moszkowski are fine for this. if one of leschetizky's pupils had difficulty with rhythm he almost invariably advised them to go to hear the concerts of that king of rhythm and dance, eduard strauss. dances are invaluable in developing this sense of rhythm--swift-moving dances like the bolero and the tarantella are especially helpful. certain pieces demand a particularly strict observance of the rhythm, as does the opus 42 of chopin, in which the left hand must adhere very strictly to the valse rhythm. the analysis of phrases "the ability to see the phrases by which a composition is built, clearly and readily, simplifies the study of interpretation of a new piece wonderfully. this, of course, is difficult at first, but with the proper training the pupil should be able to see the phrases at a glance, just as a botanist in examining a new flower would divide it in his mind's eye into its different parts. he would never mistake the calyx for a petal, and he would be able to determine at once the peculiarities of each part. in addition to the melodic phrases the pupil should be able to see the metrical divisions which underlie the form of the piece. he should be able to tell whether the composition is one of eight-measure sections or four-measure sections, or whether the sections are irregular. "what a splendid thing it would be if little children at their first lessons were taught the desirability of observing melodic phrases. teachers lay great stress upon hand formation, with the object of getting the pupil to keep the hand in a perfect condition--a condition that is the result of a carefully developed habit. why not develop the habit of noting the phrases in the same way? why not a little mind formation? it is a great deal nearer the real musical aim than the mere digital work. the most perfectly formed hand in the world would be worthless for the musician unless the mind that operates the hand has had a real musical training." studying the harmony "every piano student ought to have a knowledge of harmony. but this knowledge should be a practical one. what do i mean by a practical knowledge of harmony? simply this--a knowledge of harmony which recognizes the ear as well as the eye. there are students of harmony who can work out some harmonic problem with the skill of an expert mathematician and yet they never for one single moment think of the music their notes might make. this is due to the great neglect of the study of ear-training in early musical education. "to be able to recognize a chord when you see it on paper is not nearly such an acquisition as the ability to recognize the same chord when it is played. the student who can tell a diminished seventh, or an augmented sixth at a glance, but who could not identify the same chords when he saw them through his ears instead of his eyes is severely handicapped. but how many musicians can do this? ear-training should be one of the first of all studies. it may be acquired more easily in childhood if the student is not naturally gifted with it, and it is the only basis of a thorough knowledge of harmony. the piano teacher cannot possibly find time to give sufficient instruction in the subject of harmony at the piano lesson. it demands a separate period, and in most cases it is necessary and advisable to have a separate teacher; that is, one who has made a specialty of harmony. "the piano itself is of course a great help to the student in the study of harmony, providing the student listens all the time he is playing. few adult piano students study string instruments, such as the violin or 'cello--instruments which cultivate the perception of hearing far more than can the piano. for this reason all children should have the advantage of a course in ear-training. this should not be training for pitch alone, but for quality of tone as well. it may be supplemented with exercises in musical dictation until the pupil is able to write down short phrases with ease after he has heard them once. a pupil who has had such a training would make ideal material for the advanced teacher, and because of the greatly developed powers of the pupil would be able to memorize quicker and make much better progress. in fact, ear-training and harmony lead to great economy of time. for instance, let us suppose that the pupil has a chord like the following in a sonata: [illustration] if the same chord appeared again in the piece it would probably be found in the key of the dominant, thus: [illustration] it seems very obvious that if the pupil could perceive the harmonic relationship between these two chords he would be spared the trouble of identifying an entirely different chord when he finds the repetition of it merely in another key. this is only one of scores of instances where a knowledge of the harmonic structure proves to be of constant importance to the student. a careful analysis of touch effects "here again we find an interminable subject. although there are only a few principal divisions into which the subject of touch might be divided, the number of different subdivisions of these best known methods of striking the keys to produce artistic effects is very considerable. the artist working day in and day out at the keyboard will discover some subtle touch effects which he will always associate with a certain passage. he may have no logical reason for doing this other than that it appeals to his artistic sense. he is in all probability following no law but that of his own musical taste and sense of hearing. it is this more than anything else which gives individuality to the playing of the different virtuosos and makes their efforts so different from the playing of machines. time and time again mechanical efforts have been made to preserve all these infinite subtilities and some truly wonderful machines have been invented, but not until the sculptor's marble can be made to glow with the vitality of real flesh can this be accomplished. wonderful as the mechanical inventions are there is always something lacking. "here, again, ear-training will benefit the pupil who is studying with a virtuoso teacher. it is impossible to show exactly how certain touches produce certain effects. the ear, however, hears these effects, and if the pupil has the right kind of persistence he will work and work until he is able to reproduce the same effect that he has heard. then it will be found that the touch he employs will be very similar to that used by the virtuoso he has heard. it may take weeks to show a certain pupil a kind of touch. the pupil with the trained ear and the willingness to work might be able to pick up the same touch and produce the same effect after a few days. a highly developed sense of hearing is of immense value to the student who attends concerts for the purpose of promoting his musical knowledge. the responsibilities of the teacher "the more one contemplates this subject the more one realizes the responsibilities of the teacher in the first years of music study. of all the pupils who commence in the art there are but few who make it a part of their lives; many of those who do continue find themselves handicapped when they reach the more advanced stages of the journey, owing to inefficient early training. at the period when their time is the most valuable to them they have to take up studies which should have been mastered eight or ten years before. the elementary teachers all over the world have a big responsibility. if they belittle their work with children and pine for the kind of teaching which the virtuosos attempt to do, let them realize that they are in a sense the foundation of the structure, and although perhaps not as conspicuous as the spire which towers up into the skies, they are certainly of equal importance." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series ix katharine goodson 1. is analysis natural to children? 2. when should the first steps in analysis be made? 3. why is a knowledge of the different dance forms desirable? 4. what may be said of the poetic idea of the piece? 5. what indicates a finely balanced musician? 6. should phrase analysis be taught at an early age? 7. is the ability to identify a chord by hearing more important than the ability to identify it by sight? 8. does a trained ear help in the acquisition of touch? 9. what may the pupil learn from concerts? 10. when is the teacher's responsibility greatest? josef hofmann biographical josef hofmann was born at cracow, russia, january 20, 1877. his father was an exceptionally successful teacher and was for a time professor of harmony and composition at the warsaw conservatory. the elder hofmann's talents were by no means limited to teaching, however, since he conducted the opera at warsaw for many performances. he undertook the training of his son with great care and since the child showed remarkable promise the musicians of russia took an extraordinary interest in him. he appeared in public at the age of six and before he was ten years of age he was the most celebrated child prodigy of his time. he traveled thousands of miles, including tours of america, playing complicated classical compositions in a manner which surprised musicians everywhere. fortunately for his health and education his tours were terminated in time for him to study for the advanced work of the more mature artist. accordingly he was placed with the great anton rubinstein with whom he remained for two years. at seventeen he resumed his concert work again appearing in dresden in 1894. by thoroughly dignified methods, scholarly analysis, and his natural poetical sense hofmann introduced new ideas in virtuosoship which made him immensely popular at once. [illustration: josef hofmann] xii progress in piano study josef hofmann the question of progress in pianoforte playing is one that admits of the widest possible discussion. one is frequently asked whether the manner of playing the pianoforte has undergone any change since the time of hummel, and, if it has advanced, of what nature are the advances, and to what particular condition are the advances due. johann nepomuk hummel, it will be remembered, was contemporary with beethoven, and was, in fact, a kind of bridge between the old and the new. he made his début at a concert given by mozart at dresden. for a time he was a kind of assistant _kapellmeister_ to haydn, and indeed many at that time thought his works were quite on a par with those of the great master, beethoven. hummel was a really great virtuoso, and was noted for his remarkable improvisations. his style of playing was taken as a model in his time, and consequently we may safely start with this epoch by way of example. what determines changes in playing it is sometimes said that the changes in the construction of the piano have caused a different treatment of it, but this reasoning is superficial, inasmuch as the structural changes of the instrument itself are called forth by the ever-increasing demands of the _composer_ made upon the instrument. so long as the tone quality, action and nature of the instrument sufficed for compositions of the type of those of domenico scarlatti, or françois couperin, or rameau, there was little need for change, but as the more modern composers longed for new and more comprehensive effects, the piano-makers kept up with their desires and aims. thus it is that after all is said and done, the composer, and the composer only, is responsible for the changes. the literature of the piano determines them. it is the same in the advancement of piano technic and interpretation. the composers conceive new and often radically different musical ideas. these in turn demand a new manner of interpretation. this kind of evolution has been going on continually since the invention of the instrument and is going on to-day, only it is more difficult for us to see it in the present than it is to review it in the past. the general mental tendencies of the times, the artistic and cultural influences of the world taken as a whole, have also had a conspicuous though somewhat less pronounced share in these matters since they inevitably exert an influence upon the interpreter. speaking from a strictly pianistic point of view, it is the player's individuality, influenced by the factors just stated, which is the determining element in producing new pianistic tendencies. it is thus very evident that progress in piano playing since the epoch of hummel has been enormous. the new technic and the old you ask me what are the essential differences between the modern technic and the technic of the older periods? it is very difficult to discuss this question off-hand and it is one which might better be discussed in an article of a different character. one difficulty lies in the regrettable tendency of modern technic toward being a purpose in itself. judging from the manner in which some ambitious young players work, their sole aim is to become human piano-playing machines quite without any real musical consciousness. before radically condemning this tendency, however, it should be remembered that it has brought us many undeniable advantages. it cannot be doubted that we owe to the ingenious investigators of technical subjects greater possibilities in effective polyphonic playing, economy of power and arm motion, larger participation of the mind in the acquisition of technic, and numerous other praiseworthy factors in good piano playing. in the olden days, while technical exercises were by no means absent, they were not nearly so numerous, and more time was given to the real musical elements in the study of the musical compositions themselves. if the excellent technical ideas to be found in some of the systems of to-day are employed solely to secure real musical and artistic effects--that is, effects based upon known æsthetic principles--the new technic will prove valuable, and we should be very grateful for it. however, as soon as it becomes an objective point in itself and succeeds in eclipsing the higher purposes of musical interpretation, just so soon should it be abolished. if the black charcoal sketch which the artist puts upon canvas to use as an outline shows through the colors of the finished painting, no masterpiece will result. really artistic piano playing is an impossibility until the outlines of technic have been erased to make way for true interpretation from the highest sense of the word. there is much more in this than most young artists think, and the remedy may be applied at once by students and teachers in their daily work. technic since liszt again you ask whether technic has made any significant advance since the time of franz liszt. here again you confront me with a subject difficult to discuss within the confines of a conference. there is so much to be said upon it. a mere change in itself does not imply either progress or retrogression. it is for this reason we cannot speak of progress since the time of liszt. to play as liszt did--that is, exactly as he did, as a mirror reflects an object--would not be possible to anyone unless he were endowed with an individuality and personality exactly like that of liszt. since no two people are exactly alike, it is futile to compare the playing of any modern pianist with that of franz liszt. to discuss accurately the playing of liszt from the purely technical standpoint is also impossible because so much of his technic was self-made, and also a mere manual expression of his unique personality and that which his own mind had created. he may perhaps never be equalled in certain respects, but on the other hand there are unquestionably pianists to-day who would have astonished the great master with their technics--i speak technically, purely technically. definite methods are little more than stencils i have always been opposed to definite "methods"--so-called--when they are given in an arbitrary fashion and without the care of the intelligent teacher to adapt special need to special pupils. methods of this kind can only be regarded as a kind of musical stencil, or like the dies that are used in factories to produce large numbers of precisely similar objects. since art and its merits are so strangely dependent upon individuality (and this includes anatomical individuality as well as psychological individuality), an inflexible method must necessarily have a deadening effect upon its victims. the question of whether special technical studies of an arbitrary nature, such as scale studies, should be extensively used is one which has been widely debated, and i fear will be debated for years to come. let us understand first, there is a wide difference between studying and practicing. they resemble each other only in so far as they both require energy and time. many sincere and ambitious students make the great mistake of confounding these two very essential factors of pianistic success. study and practice really are quite widely removed from each other, and at the same time they are virtually inseparable. the real difference lies in the amount and quality of the two elements. practice means a large number of repetitions, with a fair amount of attention to mere correctness of notes, fingering, etc. under ordinary circumstances and conditions it usually means a great sacrifice of time and a comparatively small investment of mentality. study, on the contrary, implies first of all mental activity of the highest and most concentrated type. it _presupposes_ absolute accuracy in notes, time, fingerings, etc., and implies the closest possible attention to those things which are generally, though erroneously, regarded as lying outside of technic, such as tonal beauty, dynamic shading, rhythmical matters, and the like. some have the happy gift of combining practice with study, but this is rare. hence, in the question of scale exercises, etc., if the word "study" is meant in the true sense, i can only say that the study of scales is more than necessary--it is indispensable. the pedagogical experts of the world are practically unanimous upon this subject. the injunction, "study," applies not only to scales, but to all forms of technical discipline, which only too often are "practiced" without being studied. i will not deny that mere practicing, as i have defined it, may bring some little benefit, but this benefit is gained at an enormous expenditure of time and physical and mental exertion. oh! the endless leagues that ambitious fingers have traveled over ivory keys! only too often they race like automobiles on a race-course--in a circle--and after having gone innumerable miles, and spent a tremendous amount of energy, they arrive at the same point from which they started, exhausted and worn, with very little to show for their work, and no nearer their real goal than when they started. the proportion in which mental and physical activity is compounded, determines, to my mind, the distinction between practicing and real study. one might also say that the proportion in which real study enters into the daily work of the student determines the success of the student. the study of details imperative study demands that the student shall delve into the minute details of his art, and master them before he attempts to advance. only the most superficial students fail to do this in these days. all of the better trained teachers insist upon it, and it is hard for the pupil to skim through on the thinnest possible theoretical ice, as they did in past years. the separate study of embellishments, for instance, is decidedly necessary, especially in connection with the embellishments introduced by the writers of the early eighteenth century. in the study of embellishments it is vitally important for the student to remember one or two very important points in connection with his investigation. one point is the understanding of the nature of the instrument for which the composer wrote when he had the embellishment in mind. the instruments of the early eighteenth century were characterized by a tone so thin and of such short duration that the composers and players (and it should be remembered that in those days practically all of the great composers played, and most of the great performers were composers) had to resort to all kind of subterfuges and tricks to produce the deception of a prolonged tone. for instance, they had a method of moving the finger to and fro (sideways) upon a key after it was struck. thus they produced a sort of vibrato, not unlike that of which we have received an overdose in recent years from violinists and 'cellists. this vibrato (german, _bebung_) was marked like our modern "shake," thus, [illustration] but if we interpret it as a "shake" we commit a grave error. we ought never to regard it as a "shake," unless it is obviously an integer of the melody. the other point to be considered in the study of embellishments is taste, or rather, let me say, "fashion," for the fashion of those times which over-indulged in ornamentation and over-loaded everything with it, from architecture to dress, was by no means an insignificant factor in music. the point is important because it involves the element of "concessions" which the composers, voluntarily or from habit, made to the public of their day. i seriously question the necessity of retaining these often superabundant embellishments in their entirety, for i contend that we study antique works on account of their musical substance and not for the sake of gewgaws and frills which were either induced by the imperfections of the instrument or by the vitiated taste of times to which the composer had to yield willy-nilly. it is, of course, a very difficult and responsible task to determine what to retain and what to discard. this, to a large extent, must depend upon what part the ornament plays in the melody of the composition, whether it is really an integral part or an artificial excrescence. by all means never discard any embellishment which may serve to emphasize the melodic curve, or any one which may add to its declamatory character. a well-educated taste assisted by experience will be a fairly reliable guide in this matter. however, it is hardly advisable for amateurs with limited training to attempt any home editing of this kind. those embellishments which we do regain should in all cases be executed as the composer of the piece would desire to hear them executed if he could become acquainted with the instruments of to-day. this, of course, places the study of ornamentation with the many auxiliary musical branches which demand special and separate attention. johann sebastian bach's son, phillip emanuel bach, realized this, and gave years to the proper exposition of embellishments. however, the student should realize that the study of embellishments is only a part of the great whole and he should not be misled into accepting every little shake or other little frippery, and then magnifying it into a matter of more vital importance than the piece itself. well-meaning advisers the student should form the habit of determining things for himself. he will soon find that he will be surrounded with many well-meaning advisers who, if they have their own way, may serve to confuse him. some virtuosos regard their well-meaning admirers and entertainers as the worst penalties of the virtuoso life. whether they are or are not must, of course, depend upon the artist's character. if he accepts their compliments and courtesies as an expression of the measure of pleasure _they derived_ from his playing, he has tacitly allowed for that share in their pleasure which is due to their power of appreciation, and he can therefore only rejoice in having provided something worthy of it. the manner of their expression, the observations they make, the very wording of their compliments will reveal, quickly enough, whether he has a case of real appreciation before him, or a mere morbid mania to hobnob with celebrities, or at least with people who by nature of their professional work are often compelled against their own desires to hold a more or less exposed position in the public eye. if he deals with the latter and still allows their compliments to go further than the physical ear, he must be a man of a character so weak as to make it doubtful that he will ever produce anything worthy of sincere and earnest appreciation. more young students are misled by blatant flattery than anything else. they become convinced that their efforts are comparable with those of the greatest artist, and the desire for improvement diminishes in direct ratio to the rate in which their opinion of their own efforts increases. the student should continually examine his own work with the same acuteness that he would be expected to show were he teaching another. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series x josef hofmann 1. has piano playing progressed since the time of hummel? 2. how have the changes in the structure of the instrument affected pianistic progress? 3. why should students avoid becoming "piano-playing machines"? 4. what must be the sole aim in employing a technical exercise? 5. will the technic of liszt ever be excelled? 6. why are stencil-like methods bad? 7. is scale study indispensable? 8. must the student know the characteristics of the instrument for which the composer wrote? 9. what part did fashion play in the introduction of embellishments? 10. why should the student determine problems for himself? [illustration: josef lhévinne] josef lhévinne biographical josef lhévinne is one of the last noted russian pianists to attain celebrity in america. at his first appearance in new york he amazed the critics and music lovers by the virility of his style, the comprehensiveness of his technic and by his finely trained artistic judgment. lhévinne was born at moscow, in 1874. his father was a professional musician, playing "all instruments except the piano." it is not surprising that his four sons became professional musicians. three are pianists and one is a flutist. when josef was four his father discovered that he had absolute pitch, and encouraged by this sign of musical capacity placed the child under the instruction of some students from the conservatory. at six lhévinne became the pupil of a scandinavian teacher named grisander. when eight he appeared at a concert and aroused much enthusiasm by his playing. at twelve he became the pupil of the famous russian teacher, wassili safonoff, at the conservatory at moscow, remaining under his instruction for six years. at the same time his teachers in theory and composition were taneieff and arensky. in 1891 rubinstein selected him from all the students at the conservatory to play at a concert given under the famous master's direction. after that lhévinne had frequent conferences with the great pianist, and attributes much of his success to his advice. in 1895 he won the famous rubinstein prize in berlin. from 1902 to 1906 he was professor of piano at the conservatory at moscow. one year spent in military service in russia proved a compulsory setback in his work, and was a serious delay in his musical progress. lhévinne came to america in 1907 and has been here five times since then. his wife is also an exceptionally fine concert pianist. xiii piano study in russia josef lhévinne russia's many keyboard masters "russia is old, russia is vast, russia is mighty. eight and one-half million square miles of empire not made up of colonies here and there all over the world, but one enormous territory comprising nearly one hundred and fifty million people, of almost as many races as one finds in the united states, that is russia. although the main occupation of the people is the most peaceful of all labor--agriculture--russia has had to deal with over a dozen wars and insurrections during a little more than a century. in the same time the united states has had but five. war is not a thing to boast about, but the condition reflects the unrest that has existed in the vast country of the czar, and it is not at all unlikely that this very unrest is responsible for the mental activity which has characterized the work of so many artists of russian birth. although russia is one of the most venerable of the european nations, and although she has absorbed other territory possessed by races even more venerable than herself, her advance in art, letters and music is comparatively recent. when scarlatti, handel, and bach were at their height, russia, outside of court circles, was still in a state of serfdom. tolstoi was born as late as 1828, turgenieff in 1818 and pushkin, the half-negro poet-humorist, was born in 1799. contemporary with these writers was mikhail ivanovitch glinka--the first of the great modern composers of russia. still later we come to wassili vereschagin, the best known of the russian painters, who was not born until 1842. it may thus be seen that artistic development in the modern sense of the term has occurred during the lifetime of the american republic. reaching back into the centuries, russia is one of the most ancient of nations, but considered from the art standpoint it is one of the newest. the folk songs that sprang from the hearts of the people in sadness and in joy indicated the unconcealable talent of the russian people. they were longing to sing, and music became almost as much a part of their lives as food. it is no wonder then that we find among the names of the russian pianists such celebrities as anton rubinstein, nicholas rubinstein, essipoff, siloti, rachmaninoff, gabrilowitsch, scriabin, de pachmann, safonoff, sapellnikoff and many others. it seems as though the russian must be endowed by nature with those characteristics which enable him to penetrate the artistic maze that surrounds the wonders of music. he comes to music with a new talent, a new gift and finds first of all a great joy in his work. much the same might be said of the russian violinists and the russian singers, many of whom have met with tremendous success. with the musical child in russia the russian parent usually has such a keen love for music that the child is watched from the very first for some indication that it may have musical talent. the parent knows how much music brings into the life of the child and he never looks upon the art as an accomplishment for exhibition purposes, but rather as a source of great joy. music is fostered in the home as a part of the daily existence. indeed, business is kept far from the russian fireside and the atmosphere of most homes of intelligent people is that of culture rather than commerce. if the child is really musical the whole household is seized with the ambition to produce an artist. in my own case, i was taught the rudiments of music at so early an age that i have no recollection of ever having learned how to begin. it came to me just as talking does with the average child. at five i could sing some of the schumann songs and some of those of beethoven. the kind of music the russian child hears the russian child is spared all contact with really bad music. that is, he hears for the most part either the songs of the people or little selections from classical or romantic composers that are selected especially with the view of cultivating his talent. he has practically no opportunity to come in contact with any music that might be described as banal. america is a very young country and with the tension that one sees in american life on all sides there comes a tendency to accept music that may be most charitably described as "cheap." very often the same themes found in this music, skilfully treated, would make worthy musical compositions. "rag-time," and by this i refer to the peculiar rhythm and not to the bad music that americans have come to class under this head, has a peculiar fascination for me. there is nothing objectionable about the unique rhythm, any more than there is anything iniquitous about the gypsy melodies that have made such excellent material for brahms, liszt and sarasate. the fault lies in the clumsy presentation of the matter and its associations with vulgar words. the rhythm is often fascinating and exhilarating. perhaps some day some american composer will glorify it in the scherzo of a symphony. in russia, teachers lay great stress upon careful grading. many teachers of note have prepared carefully graded lists of pieces, suitable to each stage of advancement. i understand that this same purpose is accomplished in america by the publication of volumes of the music itself in different grades, although i have never seen any of these collections. the russian teacher of children takes great care that the advancement of the pupil is not too rapid. the pupil is expected to be able to perform all the pieces in one grade acceptably before going to the next grade. i have had numerous american pupils and most of them seem to have the fault of wanting to advance to a higher step long before they are really able. this is very wrong, and the pupil who insists upon such a course will surely realize some day that instead of advancing rapidly he is really throwing many annoying obstacles directly in his own path. instruction books many juvenile instruction books are used in russia just as in america. some teachers, however, find that with pupils starting at an advanced age it is better to teach the rudiments without a book. this matter of method is of far greater importance than the average teacher will admit. the teacher often makes the mistake of living up in the clouds with beethoven, bach, chopin, and brahms, never realizing that the pupil is very much upon the earth, and that no matter how grandly the teacher may play, the pupil must have practical assistance within his grasp. the main duty in all elementary work is to make the piano study interesting, and the teacher must choose the course likely to arouse the most interest in the particular pupil. opportunities for virtuoso-students in russia it may surprise the american student to hear that there are really more opportunities for him to secure public appearances right here in his own country than in russia. in fact, it is really very hard to get a start in russia unless one is able to attract the attention of the public very forcibly. in america the standard may not be so high as that demanded in the musical circles of russia, but the student has many chances to play that would never come to him in the old world. there, the only chance for the young virtuoso is at the conservatory concerts. there are many music schools in russia that must content themselves with private recitals, but the larger conservatories have public concerts of much importance, concerts that demand the attendance of renowned artists and compel the serious interest of the press. however, these concerts are few and far between, and only one student out of many hundreds has a chance to appear at them. one singular custom obtains in russia in reference to concerts. the pianist coming from some other european country is paid more than the local pianist. for instance, although i am russian by birth, i reside in germany and receive a higher rate when i play in russia than does the resident artist. in fact, this rate is often double. the young virtuoso in the early stages of his career receives about one hundred roubles an appearance in russia, while the mature artist receives from 800 to 1000. the rouble, while having an exchange value of only fifty cents in united states currency, has a purchasing value of about one dollar in russia. why russian pianists are famed for technic the russian pianist is always famed for his technical ability. even the mediocre artists possess that. the great artists realize that the mechanical side of piano playing is but the basis, but they would no sooner think of trying to do without that basis than they would of dispensing with the beautiful artistic temples which they build upon the substantial foundation which technic gives to them. the russian pianists have earned fame for their technical grasp because they give adequate study to the matter. everything is done in the most solid, substantial manner possible. they build not upon sands, but upon rock. for instance, in the conservatory examinations the student is examined first upon technic. if he fails to pass the technical examination he is not even asked to perform his pieces. lack of proficiency in technic is taken as an indication of a lack of the right preparation and study, just as the lack of the ability to speak simple phrases correctly would be taken as a lack of preparation in the case of the actor. "particular attention is given to the mechanical side of technic, the exercises, scales and arpeggios. american readers should understand that the full course at the leading russian conservatories is one of about eight or nine years. during the first five years, the pupil is supposed to be building the base upon which must rest the more advanced work of the artist. the last three or four years at the conservatory are given over to the study of master works. only pupils who manifest great talent are permitted to remain during the last year. during the first five years the backbone of the daily work in all russian schools is scales and arpeggios. all technic reverts to these simple materials and the student is made to understand this from his very entrance to the conservatory. as the time goes on the scales and arpeggios become more difficult, more varied, more rapid, but they are never omitted from the daily work. the pupil who attempted complicated pieces without this preliminary technical drill would be laughed at in russia. i have been amazed to find pupils coming from america who have been able to play a few pieces fairly well, but who wonder why they find it difficult to extend their musical sphere when the whole trouble lies in an almost total absence of regular daily technical work systematically pursued through several years. "of course, there must be other technical material in addition to scales, but the highest technic, broadly speaking, may be traced back to scales and arpeggios. the practice of scales and arpeggios need never be mechanical or uninteresting. this depends upon the attitude of mind in which the teacher places the pupil. in fact, the teacher is largely responsible if the pupil finds scale practice dry or tiresome. it is because the pupil has not been given enough to think about in scale playing, not enough to look out for in nuance, evenness, touch, rhythm, etc., etc. modern russian influence in musical art "most musicians of to-day appreciate the fact that in many ways the most modern effects sought by the composers who seek to produce extremely new effects have frequently been anticipated in russia. however, one signal difference exists between the russians with ultra-modern ideas and the composers of other nations. the russian's advanced ideas are almost always the result of a development as were those of wagner, verdi, grieg, haydn and beethoven. that is, constant study and investigations have led them to see things in a newer and more radical way. in the case of such composers as debussy, strauss, ravel, reger and others of the type of musical philistine it will be observed that to all intents and purposes, they started out as innovators. schönberg is the most recent example. how long will it take the world to comprehend his message if he really has one? certainly, at the present time, even the admirers of the bizarre in music must pause before they confess that they understand the queer utterings of this newest claimant for the palm of musical eccentricity. with debussy, strauss and others it is different, for the skilled musician at once recognizes an astonishing facility to produce effects altogether new and often wonderfully fascinating. with reger one seems to be impressed with tremendous effort and little result. strauss, however, is really a very great master; so great that it is difficult to get the proper perspective upon his work at this time. it is safe to say that all the modern composers of the world have been influenced in one way or another by the great russian masters of to-day and yesterday. tchaikovsky, rimsky-korsakov, cui, glazounov, rachmaninov, moussorgsky, arensky, scriabine and others, have all had a powerful bearing upon the musical thought of the times. their virility and character have been due to the newness of the field in which they worked. the influence of the compositions of rubinstein and glinka can hardly be regarded as russian since they were so saturated with european models that they might be ranked with gluck, mendelssohn, liszt and meyerbeer far better than with their fellow-countrymen who have expressed the idiom of russia with greater veracity." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xi josef lhévinne 1. is music a part of the daily life of the child in the russian home? 2. in what does the russian teacher of children take great care? 3. why are russian pianists famed for their technical ability? 4. how are examinations conducted in russia? 5. what would be thought of the russian pupil who attempted pieces without the proper preliminary scale work? 6. need the practice of scales be mechanical and uninteresting? 7. why do some pupils find technical studies tiresome? 8. how does russian musical progress in composition differ from that of other musical nations? 9. has russian music influenced the progress of other musical nations? 10. how may the compositions of rubinstein and glinka be regarded? [illustration: v. de pachmann] vladimir de pachmann biographical vladimir de pachmann was born at odessa, russia, july 27, 1848. his first teacher was his father, who was a musical enthusiast and a fine performer upon the violin. the elder de pachmann was a professor of law at the university of vienna and at first did not desire to have his son become anything more than a cultured amateur. in his youth de pachmann was largely self taught and aside from hearing great virtuosos at concerts and modeling his playing to some extent after theirs he had no teachers until 1866 when he went to the vienna conservatory to study with the then celebrated teacher, joseph dachs. dachs was a concert pianist of the old school. academic perfection was his goal and he could not understand such a pupil as de pachmann who was able to get results by what seemed un-academic means. after one year with dachs de pachmann toured russia with great success and since then has made repeated tours of the entire musical world. he never gave any serious attention to musical composition. as an interpreter of the works of chopin no one in recent times has ever excelled de pachmann, but he also gave numerous recitals showing a great breadth of style in the performances of works of the other great masters particularly brahms and liszt. (the following conference was conducted in english, german, french and italian.) xiv seeking originality vladimir de pachmann the meaning of originality "originality in pianoforte playing, what does it really mean? nothing more than the interpretation of one's real self instead of the artificial self which traditions, mistaken advisors and our own natural sense of mimicry impose upon us. seek for originality and it is gone like a gossamer shining in the morning grass. originality is in one's self. it is the true voice of the heart. i would enjoin students to listen to their own inner voices. i do not desire to deprecate teachers, but i think that many teachers are in error when they fail to encourage their pupils to form their own opinions. "i have always sought the individual in myself. when i have found him i play at my best. i try to do everything in my own individual way. i work for months to invent, contrive or design new fingerings--not so much for simplicity, but to enable me to manipulate the keys so that i may express the musical thought as it seems to me it ought to be expressed. see my hand, my fingers--the flesh as soft as that of a child, yet covering muscles of steel. they are thus because i have worked from childhood to make them thus. "the trouble with most pupils in studying a piece is that when they seek individuality and originality, they go about it in the wrong way, and the result is a studied, stiff, hard performance. let them listen to the voice, i say; to the inner voice, the voice which is speaking every moment of the day, but to which so many shut the ears of their soul. "franz liszt--ah, you see i bow when i mention the name--you never heard franz liszt? ah, it was the great liszt who listened--listened to his inner voice. they said he was inspired. he was simply listening to himself. machine teaching "_nun, passen sie mal auf!_ i abominate machine teaching. a certain amount of it may be necessary, but i hate it. it seems so brutal--so inartistic. instead of leading the pupil to seek results for himself, they lay down laws and see that these laws are obeyed, like _gendarmes_. it is possible, of course, by means of systematic training, to educate a boy so that he could play a concerto which he could not possibly comprehend intelligently until he became at least twenty years older; but please tell, what is the use of such a training? is it artistic? is it musical? would it not be better to train him to play a piece which he could comprehend and which he could express in his own way? "of course i am not speaking now of the boy mozarts, the boy liszts or other freaks of nature, but of the children who by machine-made methods are made to do things which nature never intended that they should do. this forcing method to which some conservatories seem addicted reminds one of those men who in bygone ages made a specialty of disfiguring the forms and faces of children, to make dwarfs, jesters and freaks out of them. bah! originality the road to permanent fame "originality in interpretation is of course no more important than originality in creation. see how the composers who have been the most original have been the ones who have laid the surest foundation for permanent fame. here again true originality has been merely the highest form of self-expression. _non ê vero?_ when the composer has sought originality and contrived to get it by purposely taking out-of-the-way methods, what has he produced? nothing but a horrible sham--a structure of cards which is destroyed by the next wind of fashion. "other composers write for all time. they are original because they listen to the little inner voice, the true source of originality. it is the same in architecture. styles in architecture are evolved, not created, and whenever the architect has striven for bizarre effects he builds for one decade only. the architects who build for all time are different and yet how unlike, how individual, how original is the work of one great architect from that of another. the most original composers "the most original of all composers, at least as they appear to me, is johann sebastian bach. perhaps this is because he is the most sincere. next i should class beethoven, that great mountain peak to whose heights so few ever soar. then would come in order liszt, brahms, schumann, chopin, weber, and mendelssohn. schumann more original than chopin? yes, at least so it seems to me. that is, there is something more distinctive, something more indicative of a great individuality speaking a new language. "compare these men with composers of the order of abt, steibelt, thalberg, and donizetti, and you will see at once what i mean about originality being the basis of permanent art. for over twenty years my great fondness for mineralogy and for gems led me to neglect in a measure the development of the higher works of these composers, but i have realized my error and have been working enormously for years to attain the technic which their works demand. some years ago i felt that technical development must cease at a certain age. this is all idiocy. i feel that i have now many times the technic i have ever had before and i have acquired it all in recent years. self-help the secret of many successes "no one could possibly believe more in self-help than i. the student who goes to a teacher and imagines that the teacher will cast some magic spell about him which will make him a musician without working, has an unpleasant surprise in store for him. when i was eighteen i went to dachs at the vienna conservatory. he bade me play something. i played the _rigoletto_ paraphrase of liszt. dachs commented favorably upon my touch but assured me that i was very much upon the wrong track and that i should study the _woltemperirtes klavier_ of bach. he assured me that no musical education could be considered complete without an intimate acquaintance with the bach fugues, which of course was most excellent advice. "consequently i secured a copy of the fugues and commenced work upon them. dachs had told me to prepare the first prelude and fugue for the following lesson. but dachs was not acquainted with my methods of study. he did not know that i had mastered the art of concentration so that i could obliterate every suggestion of any other thought from my mind except that upon which i was working. he had no estimate of my youthful zeal and intensity. he did not know that i could not be satisfied unless i spent the entire day working with all my artistic might and main. "soon i saw the wonderful design of the great master of eisenach. the architecture of the fugues became plainer and plainer. each subject became a friend and each answer likewise. it was a great joy to observe with what marvelous craftsmanship he had built up the wonderful structures. i could not stop when i had memorized the first fugue, so i went to the next and the next and the next. a surprised teacher "at the following lesson i went with my book under my arm. i requested him to name a fugue. he did, and i placed the closed book on the rack before me. after i had finished playing he was dumfounded. he said, 'you come to me to take lessons. you already know the great fugues and i have taught you nothing.' thinking that i would find chopin more difficult to memorize, he suggested that i learn two of the etudes. i came at the following lesson with the entire twenty-four memorized. who could withstand the alluring charm of the chopin etudes? who could resist the temptation to learn them all when they are once commenced? "an actor learns page after page in a few days, and why should the musician go stumbling along for months in his endeavor to learn something which he could master in a few hours with the proper interest and the burning concentration without which all music study is a farce? "it was thus during my entire course with dachs. he would suggest the work and i would go off by myself and learn it. i had practically no method. each page demanded a different method. each page presented entirely new and different technical ideas." deep thought necessary "as a rule piano students do not think deeply enough. they skim over the really difficult things and no amount of persuasion will make them believe some very simple things difficult. take the scale of c major, for instance. this scale is by far the most difficult of all. to play it with true legato, at any desired degree of force or speed, in any desired rhythm and with any desired touch, is one of the most difficult achievements in all music. yet the young pupil will literally turn up his nose at the scale of c major and at the same time claim that he is perfectly competent to play a beethoven sonata. "the scale of c should be learned step by step until the practice habits are so formed that they will reign supreme while playing all the other scales. this is the way to secure results--go deep into things. pearls lie at the bottom of the sea. most pupils seem to expect them floating upon the surface of the water. they never float, and the one who would have his scales shine with the beauty of splendid gems must first dive deep for the gems. "but what is the use of saying all this? to tell it to young pupils seems to be a waste of words. they will go on making their mistakes and ignoring the advice of their teachers and mentors until the great teacher of all--experience--forces them to dive for the hidden riches. take time to do things well "every pianist advances at a rate commensurate with his personal ability. some pianists are slow in development. others with wonderful natural gifts go ahead very quickly. the student will see some pianist make wonderful progress and will sometimes imitate him without giving the time or effort to study that the other pianist has given. the artist will spend months upon a chopin valse. the student feels injured if he cannot play it in a day. "look, i will play the wonderful nocturne of chopin in g, opus no. 2. the legato thirds seem simple? ah, if i could only tell you of the years that are behind those thirds. the human mind is peculiar in its methods of mastering the movements of the fingers, and to get a great masterpiece so that you can have supreme control over it at all times and under all conditions demands a far greater effort than the ordinary non-professional music lover can imagine. mastering artistic details "each note in a composition should be polished until it is as perfect as a jewel--as perfect as an indian diamond--those wonderful scintillating, ever-changing orbs of light. in a really great masterpiece each note has its place just as the stars, the jewels of heaven, have their places in their constellations. when a star moves it moves in an orbit that was created by nature. "great musical masterpieces owe their existence to mental forces quite as miraculous as those which put the heavens into being. the notes in compositions of this kind are not there by any rule of man. they come through the ever mystifying source which we call inspiration. each note must bear a distinct relation to the whole. "an artist in jewels in making a wonderful work of art does not toss his jewels together in any haphazard way. he often has to wait for months to get the right ruby, or the right pearl, or the right diamond to fit in the right place. those who do not know might think one gem just like another, but the artist knows. he has been looking at gems, examining them under the microscope. there is a meaning in every facet, in every shade of color. he sees blemishes which the ordinary eye would never detect. "finally he secures his jewels and arranges them in some artistic form, which results in a masterpiece. the public does not know the reason why, but it will instantly realize that the work of the artist is in some mysterious way superior to the work of the bungler. thus it is that the mind of the composer works spontaneously in selecting the musical jewels for the diadem which is to crown him with fame. during the process of inspiration he does not realize that he is selecting his jewels with lightning rapidity, but with a highly cultivated artistic judgment. when the musical jewels are collected and assembled he regards the work as a whole as the work of another. he does not realize that he has been going through the process of collecting them. schubert failed to recollect some of his own compositions only a few days after he had written them. something no one can teach "now the difficulty with students is that they do not take time to polish the jewels which the composers have selected with such keen æsthetic discernment. they think it enough if they merely succeed in playing the note. how horrible! a machine can play the notes, but there is only one machine with a soul and that is the artist. to think that an artist should play only the notes and forget the glories of the inspiration which came in the composer's mind during the moment of creation. "let me play the d flat chopin nocturne for you. please notice how the notes all bear a relation to each other, how everything is in right proportion. do you think that came in a day? ah, my friend, the polishing of those jewels took far longer than the polishing of the kohinoor. yet i have heard young girls attempt to play this piece for me--expecting approbation, of course, and i am certain that they could not have practiced upon it more than a year or so. they evidently think that musical masterpieces can be brought into being like the cobwebs which rise during the night to be torn down by the weight of the dew of the following morning. _imbecillità!_ the best teacher "they play just as their teachers have told them to play, which is of course good as far as it goes. but they stop at that, and no worthy teacher expects his pupil to stop with his instruction. the best teacher is the one who incites his pupil to penetrate deeper and learn new beauties by himself. a teacher in the highest sense of the word is not a mint, coining pupils as it were and putting the same stamp of worth upon each pupil. "the great teacher is an artist who works in men and women. every pupil is different, and he must be very quick to recognize these differences. he should first of all teach the pupil that there are hundreds of things which no teacher can ever hope to teach. he must make his pupil keenly alert to this. there are hundreds of things about my own playing which are virtually impossible to teach. i would not know how to convey them to others so that they might be intelligently learned. such things i have found out for myself by long and laborious experimentation. the control of my fifth finger in certain fingerings presented endless problems which could only be worked out at the keyboard. such things give an individuality to the pianist's art, something which cannot be copied. "have you ever been in a foreign art gallery and watched the copyists trying to reproduce the works of the masters? have you ever noticed that though they get the form, the design, and even the colors and also that with all these resemblances there is something which distinguishes the work of the master from the work of the copyist, something so wonderful that even a child can see it? you wonder at this? _pourquoi?_ no one can learn by copying the secret the master has learned in creating. the basis of greatness "here we have a figure which brings out very clearly the real meaning of originality in piano playing and at the same time indicates how every pupil with or without a teacher should work for himself. why was the great liszt greater than any pianist of his time? simply because he found out certain pianistic secrets which czerny or any of liszt's teachers and contemporaries had failed to discover. "why has godowsky--_ach! godowsky, der ist wirklich ein grosser talent_--how has he attained his wonderful rank? because he has worked out certain contrapuntal and technical problems which place him in a class all by himself. i consider him the greatest master of the mysteries of counterpoint since the heyday of classical polyphony. why does busoni produce inimitable results at the keyboard? simply because he was not satisfied to remain content with the knowledge he had obtained from others. "this then is my life secret--work, unending work. i have no other secrets. i have developed myself along the lines revealed to me by my inner voice. i have studied myself as well as my art. i have learned to study mankind through the sciences and through the great literary treasures, you see; i speak many languages fluently, i have stepped apace with the crowd, i have drunk the bitter and the sweet from the chalices of life, but remember, i have never stopped, and to-day i am just as keenly interested in my progress as i was many years ago as a youth. the new repertoire of the works of liszt and brahms and other composers demanded a different technic, a bigger technic. what exquisite joy it was to work for it. yes, _mio amico_, work is the greatest intoxication, the greatest blessing, the greatest solace we can know. therefore work, work, work. but of all things, my good musical friends in america, remember the old german proverb: "'_das mag die beste musik sein wenn herz und mund stimmt überein._'" ("music is best when the heart and lips (mouth) speak together.") questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xii vladimir de pachmann 1. what does originality in pianoforte playing really mean? 2. state something of the evils of the forcing methods of training applied to young children. 3. have the compositions of the most original composers been the most enduring? 4. name seven of the most original composers for the pianoforte. 5. must the pupil continually help himself? 6. what is considered the most difficult scale to learn? 7. is a great virtuoso obliged to practice years in order to secure results? 8. how may piano study be compared with the polishing of beautiful jewels? 9. tell what characteristics a great teacher must have. 10. what lies at the foundation of pianistic greatness? max pauer biographical prof. max pauer was born in london, england, october 31, 1866, and is the son of the eminent musical educator, ernst pauer, who settled in england in 1851, and aside from filling many of the foremost positions in british musical life, also produced a great number of instructive works, which have been of immeasurable value in disseminating musical education in england. his work on _musical forms_ is known to most all music students. prof. max pauer studied with his father at the same time his parent was instructing another famous british-born pianist, eugen d'albert. at the age of fifteen he went to karlsruhe, where he came under the instruction of v. lachner. in 1885 he returned to london and continued to advance through self-study. in 1887 he received the appointment at the head of the piano department in the cologne conservatory. this position he retained for ten years, until his appointment at stuttgart, first as head teacher in the piano department and later as director of the school. during this period the organization of the famous old conservatory has changed totally. the building occupied was very old and unfit for modern needs. the new conservatory building is a splendid structure located in one of the most attractive parts of the city. the old methods, old equipment, old ideas have been abandoned, and a wholly different atmosphere is said to pervade the institution, while all that was best in the old _régime_ has been retained. prof. pauer made his _début_ as a virtuoso pianist in london. since then he has toured all europe except the latin countries. he has published several compositions for the piano. his present tour of america is his first in the new world. [illustration: max pauer] xv modern pianistic problems max pauer acquiring the requisite technic "the preservation of one's individuality in playing is perhaps one of the most difficult, and at the same time one of the most essential tasks in the study of the pianoforte. the kind of technical study that passes the student through a certain process, apparently destined to make him as much like his predecessors as possible, is hardly the kind of technic needed to make a great artist. technical ability, after all is said and done, depends upon nothing more than physiologically correct motion applied to the artistic needs of the masterpiece to be performed. it implies a clear understanding of the essentials in bringing out the composer's idea. the pupil must not be confused with inaccurate thinking. for instance, we commonly hear of the 'wrist touch.' more pupils have been hindered through this clumsy terminology than i should care to estimate. there cannot be a wrist touch since the wrist is nothing more than a wonderful natural hinge of bone and muscle. with the pupil's mind centered upon his wrist he is more than likely to stiffen it and form habits which can only be removed with much difficulty by the teacher. this is only an instance of one of the loose expressions with which the terminology of technic is encumbered. when the pupil comes to recognize the wrist as a _condition_ rather than a thing he will find that the matter of the tight, cramped wrist will cease to have its terrors. in fact, as far as touch itself is concerned, the motion of the arm as a whole is vastly more important than that of the wrist. the wrist is merely part of the apparatus which communicates the weight of the arm to the keyboard. innovators should be pianists "in my opinion the technical needs of the piano are likely to be far better understood by the virtuoso pianist than by one who has never been through the experiences which lead to the concert platform. please do not infer that i would say that all teachers should be virtuoso pianists. i am referring particularly to the makers of methods. i am continually confronted in my teaching with all manner of absurd ideas in piano technic. for instance, one pupil will come and exhibit an exercise which requires her to press hard upon the keyboard after the note is struck. just why there should be this additional waste of nerve force when it can have no possible effect upon the depressed key i have never been able to find out. there is enough nervous energy expended in pianoforte study as it is without exacting any more from the pupil. pupils are frequently carried away with some technical trick of this kind like a child with a new toy. they do these things without ever consulting their own judgment." the whole idea of technic then is to achieve a position _through_ conscious effort, where one may _dispense with_ conscious effort. not until this can be accomplished can we hope for real self-expression in playing. nothing is so odious as the obtrusion of technic in any work of art. technic is the trellis concealed beneath the foliage and the blossoms of the bower. when the artist is really great all idea of technic is forgotten. he must be absorbed by the sheer beauty of his musical message, his expression of his musical self. in listening to rubinstein or to liszt one forgot all idea of technic, and it must be so with all great artists in every branch of art in every age. what we claim when we attend a recital is the individual artist, unrestrained by mechanical bonds. very few of the great masters of pianoforte playing have delved very deeply into the technical pedagogical side of their art, as for instance have tausig, ehrlich or joseffy, all of whom have produced remarkable works on technic. liszt's contribution to the technic of the instrument was made through his pieces, not through exercises; his contributions to the lebert and stark stuttgart conservatory method consist of two well-known concert studies. personally, i am opposed to set methods, that is, those that pretend to teach the pupil factory-wise. of what value is the teacher if he is not to apply his knowledge with the discretion that comes with experience? deppe's influence to this day is far more theoretical than practical. this does not imply that deppe did not evolve some very useful ideas in pianoforte work. all of present technic is a common heritage from many investigators and innovators. pianoforte teaching, as a matter of fact, is one of the most difficult of all tasks. it is easy to teach it along conventional "cut and dried" method lines, but the teachers of real importance are those who have the ability, the gift, the inclination and the experience to make a brand new method for every pupil. in order to develop the means to communicate one's message through one's art with the greatest effectiveness, there must be a mastery of the delicate balance between natural tendencies and discipline. if the student is subjected to too much discipline, stiff, angular results may be expected. if the student is permitted to play with the flabby looseness which some confuse with natural relaxation, characterless playing must invariably result. the great desideratum is the fine equilibrium between nature and discipline. this may seem an unnecessary observation to some, but many students never seem to be able to strike the happy medium between marching over the keys like a regiment of wooden soldiers, or crawling over them like a lot of spineless caterpillars. avoid machine-like playing there is a certain "something" which defines the individuality of the player, and it seems well nigh impossible to say just what this something is. let us by all means preserve it. imagine the future of music if every piece were to be played in the selfsame way by every player like a series of ordinary piano playing machines. the remarkable apparatus for recording the playing of virtuosos, and then reproducing it through a mechanical contrivance, is somewhat of a revelation to the pianist who tries it for the first time. in the records of the playing of artists whose interpretations are perfectly familiar to me, there still remain unquestioned marks of individuality. sometimes these marks are small shortcomings, but which, nevertheless, are so slight that they do no more than give character. look at a painting by van dyke, and then at one upon a similar subject by rembrandt, and you will realize how these little characteristics influence the whole outward aspect of an art work. both van dyke and rembrandt were dutchmen, and, in a sense, contemporaries. they used pigments and brushes, canvas and oil, yet the masterpieces of each are readily distinguishable by any one slightly familiar with their styles. it is precisely the same with pianists. all of us have arms, fingers, muscles and nerves, but what we have to say upon the keyboard should be an expression of our own minds, not a replica of some stereotyped model. when i listened to the first record of my own playing, i heard things which seemed unbelievable to me. was i, after years of public playing, actually making mistakes that i would be the first to condemn in any one of my own pupils? i could hardly believe my ears, and yet the unrelenting machine showed that in some places i had failed to play both hands exactly together, and had been guilty of other errors no less heinous, because they were trifling. i also learned in listening to my own playing, as reproduced, that i had unconsciously brought out certain nuances, emphasized different voices and employed special accents without the consciousness of having done so. altogether it made a most interesting study for me, and it became very clear that the personality of the artist must permeate everything that he does. when his technic is sufficiently great it permits him to speak with fluency and self-expression, enhancing the value of his work a thousandfold. broad understanding necessary "it would be a great mistake for the student to imagine that by merely acquiring finger dexterity and a familiarity with a certain number of pieces he may consider himself proficient. there is vastly more to piano-playing than that. he must add to his digital ability and his repertoire and comprehensive grasp of the principles of music itself. the pupil should strive to accomplish as much as possible through mental work. the old idea of attempting to play every single study written by czerny, or cramer or the other prolific writers of studies is a huge mistake. a judicious selection from the works of these pedagogical writers is desirable but certainly not all of them. they are at best only the material with which one must work for a certain aim, and that aim should be high artistic results. it should be realized by all students and teachers that this same study material, excellent in itself, may actually produce bad results if not properly practiced. i have repeatedly watched students practicing industriously, but becoming worse and worse and actually cultivating faults rather than approaching perfection. the student must always remember that his fingers are only the outward organs of his inner consciousness, and while his work may be mechanical in part he should never think mechanically. the smallest technical exercise must have its own direction, its own aim. nothing should be done without some definite purpose in view. the student should have pointed out to him just what the road he must travel is, and where it leads to. the ideal teacher is the one who gives the pupil something to take home and work out at home, not the one who works out the student's lesson for him in the class room. the teacher's greatest mission is to raise the consciousness of the pupil until he can appreciate his own powers for developing an idea. freedom from convention "oh the horror of the conventional, the absolutely right, the human machine who cannot make an error! the balance between the frigidly correct and the abominably loose is a most difficult one to maintain. it is, of course, desirable that the young student pass through a certain period of strict discipline, but if this discipline succeeds in making an automaton, of what earthly use is it? is it really necessary to instruct our little folks to think that everything must be done in a "cut and dried" manner? take the simple matter of time, for instance. listen to the playing of most young pupils and you will hear nothing but a kind of "railroad train" rhythm. every measure bumps along precisely like the last one. the pupil has been taught to observe the bar signs like stone walls partitioning the whole piece off into sections. the result as a whole is too awful to describe. as a matter of fact, the bar signs, necessary as they are as guide-posts when we are learning the elements of notation, are often the means of leading the poorly trained pupil to a wholly erroneous interpretation. for instance, in a passage like the following from beethoven's f minor sonata, opus 2, no. 1 (dedicated to joseph haydn), beethoven's idea must have been the following: [illustration] before it was divided into measures by bar lines as now found printed: [illustration] the trouble with the pupil in playing the above is that he seems inclined to observe the bar lines very carefully and lose all idea of the phrase as a whole. music should be studied by phrases, not by measures. in studying a poem you strive first of all to get the poet's meaning as expressed in his phrases and in his sentences; you do not try to mumble a few words in an arbitrary manner. the pupil who never gets over the habit of playing in measures, who never sees the composer's message as a whole rather than in little segments can never play artistically. many students fail to realize that in some pieces it is actually misleading to count the beats in the measure. the rhythm of the piece as a whole is often marked by a series of measures, and one must count the measures as units rather than the notes in the measures. for instance, the following section from a chopin valse, opus 64, no. 1 (sometimes called the _minute valse_), may best be counted by counting the measures thus: [illustration] every pupil knows that the first beat in each ordinary measure of four-quarter time carries a strong accent, the third beat the next strongest, and the second and fourth beats still weaker accents. in a series of measures which may be counted in fours, it will be found that the same arrangement often prevails. the pupil will continually meet opportunities to study his work along broader lines, and the wonderful part of it all is that music contains so much that is interesting and surprising, that there need be no end to his investigations. every page from a master work that has been studied for years is likely to contain some unsolved problem if the student can only see it right and hunt for it. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xiii max pauer 1. define technical ability. 2. describe some useless technical tricks. 3. do great pianists devote much time to writing upon piano technic? 4. state the evils of too much discipline. 5. how may machine-like playing be avoided? 6. state how faults are most frequently developed. 7. why must one seek to avoid conventions? 8. should music be studied by phrases or measures? 9. play the chopin valse opus 64, no. 1, indicating how it may best be counted. 10. where must the student find his problems? [illustration: s. v. rachmaninoff] s. v. rachmaninoff biographical sergei vassilievitch rachmaninoff was born at novgorod, russia, april 1st, 1873. at the moscow conservatory he was placed under the instruction of siloti who had been one of the favorite russian pupils of franz liszt. this master imparted a very facile technic to rachmaninoff and made him so thoroughly acquainted with the best literature of the instrument that his compositions became recognized at once as those of a thorough master of the keyboard. his teacher in composition was arensky, who in addition to his skill in the technic of the art had a fund of melody which is a delight to all those who know his works. in 1891 rachmaninoff won the great gold medal at the moscow conservatory and his work as a composer commenced to attract favorable attention throughout all europe. in addition to this his ability as a pianist attracted wide notice and his tours have been very successful. his compositions have been cast in many different forms from opera to songs and piano pieces. his most popular work is _the prelude in c sharp minor_ which is in the repertoire of all advanced students. his appointment as supervisor general of the imperial conservatories of russia was one of the highest distinctions that could be conferred in the land of the czar. the correct pronunciation of the name as given by the composer is rokh-mahn-ee-noff. (the following conference was conducted in german.) xvi essentials of artistic playing s. v. rachmaninoff forming the proper conception of a piece it is a seemingly impossible task to define the number of attributes of really excellent pianoforte playing. by selecting ten important characteristics, however, and considering them carefully, one at a time, the student may learn much that will give him food for thought. after all, one can never tell in print what can be communicated by the living teacher. in undertaking the study of a new composition it is highly important to gain a conception of the work as a whole. one must comprehend the main design of the composer. naturally, there are technical difficulties which must be worked out, measure by measure, but unless the student can form some idea of the work in its larger proportions his finished performance may resemble a kind of musical patchwork. behind every composition is the architectural plan of the composer. the student should endeavor, first of all, to discover this plan, and then he should build in the manner in which the composer would have had him build. you ask me, "how can the student form the proper conception of the work as a whole?" doubtless the best way is to hear it performed by some pianist whose authority as an interpreter cannot be questioned. however, many students are so situated that this course is impossible. it is also often quite impossible for the teacher, who is busy teaching from morning to night, to give a rendering of the work that would be absolutely perfect in all of its details. however, one can gain something from the teacher who can, by his genius, give the pupil an idea of the artistic demands of the piece. if the student has the advantage of hearing neither the virtuoso nor the teacher he need not despair, if he has talent. talent! ah, that is the great thing in all musical work. if he has talent he will see with the eyes of _talent_--that wonderful force which penetrates all artistic mysteries and reveals the truths as nothing else possibly can. then he grasps, as if by intuition, the composer's intentions in writing the work, and, like the true interpreter, communicates these thoughts to his audience in their proper form. technical proficiency it goes without saying, that technical proficiency should be one of the first acquisitions of the student who would become a fine pianist. it is impossible to conceive of fine playing that is not marked by clean, fluent, distinct, elastic technic. the technical ability of the performer should be of such a nature that it can be applied immediately to all the artistic demands of the composition to be interpreted. of course, there may be individual passages which require some special technical study, but, generally speaking, technic is worthless unless the hands and the mind of the player are so trained that they can encompass the principal difficulties found in modern compositions. in the music schools of russia great stress is laid upon technic. possibly this may be one of the reasons why some of the russian pianists have been so favorably received in recent years. the work in the leading russian conservatories is almost entirely under supervision of the imperial musical society. the system is elastic in that, although all students are obliged to go through the same course, special attention is given to individual cases. technic, however, is at first made a matter of paramount importance. all students must become technically proficient. none are excused. it may be interesting to hear something of the general plan followed in the imperial music schools of russia. the course is nine years in duration. during the first five years the student gets most of his technical instruction from a book of studies by hanon, which is used very extensively in the conservatories. in fact, this is practically the only book of strictly technical studies employed. all of the studies are in the key of "c." they include scales, arpeggios, and other forms of exercises in special technical designs. at the end of the fifth year an examination takes place. this examination is twofold. the pupil is examined first for proficiency in technic, and later for proficiency in artistic playing--pieces, studies, etc. however, if the pupil fails to pass the technical examination he is not permitted to go ahead. he knows the exercises in the book of studies by hanon so well that he knows each study by number, and the examiner may ask him, for instance, to play study 17, or 28, or 32, etc. the student at once sits at the keyboard and plays. although the original studies are all in the key of "c," he may be requested to play them in any other key. he has studied them so thoroughly that he should be able to play them in any key desired. a metronomic test is also applied. the student knows that he will be expected to play the studies at certain rates of speed. the examiner states the speed and the metronome is started. the pupil is required, for instance, to play the e flat major scale with the metronome at 120, eight notes to the beat. if he is successful in doing this, he is marked accordingly, and other tests are given. personally, i believe this matter of insisting upon a thorough technical knowledge is a very vital one. the mere ability to play a few pieces does not constitute musical proficiency. it is like those music boxes which possess only a few tunes. the student's technical grasp should be all-embracing. later the student is given advanced technical exercises, like those of tausig. czerny is also very deservedly popular. less is heard of the studies of henselt, however, notwithstanding his long service in russia. henselt's studies are so beautiful that they should rather be classed with pieces like the studies of chopin. proper phrasing an artistic interpretation is not possible if the student does not know the laws underlying the very important subject of phrasing. unfortunately many editions of good music are found wanting in proper phrase markings. some of the phrase signs are erroneously applied. consequently the only safe way is for the student to make a special study of this important branch of musical art. in the olden days phrase signs were little used. bach used them very sparingly. it was not necessary to mark them in those times, for every musician who counted himself a musician could determine the phrases as he played. but a knowledge of the means of defining phrases in a composition is by no means all-sufficient. skill in executing the phrases is quite as important. the real musical feeling must exist in the mind of the composer or all the knowledge of correct phrasing he may possess will be worthless. regulating the tempo if a fine musical feeling, or sensitiveness, must control the execution of the phrases, the regulation of the tempo demands a kind of musical ability no less exacting. although in most cases the tempo of a given composition is now indicated by means of the metronomic markings, the judgment of the player must also be brought frequently into requisition. he cannot follow the tempo marks blindly, although it is usually unsafe for him to stray very far from these all-important musical sign-posts. the metronome itself must not be used "with closed eyes," as we should say it in russia. the player must use discretion. i do not approve of continual practice with the metronome. the metronome is designed to set the time, and if not abused is a very faithful servant. however, it should only be used for this purpose. the most mechanical playing imaginable can proceed from those who make themselves slaves to this little musical clock, which was never intended to stand like a ruler over every minute of the student's practice time. character in playing too few students realize that there is continual and marvelous opportunity for contrast in playing. every piece is a piece unto itself. it should, therefore, have its own peculiar interpretation. there are performers whose playing seems all alike. it is like the meals served in some hotels. everything brought to the table has the same taste. of course, a successful performer must have a strong individuality, and all of his interpretations must bear the mark of this individuality, but at the same time he should seek variety constantly. a chopin ballade must have quite a different interpretation from a scarlatti capriccio. there is really very little in common between a beethoven sonata and a liszt rhapsody. consequently, the student must seek to give each piece a different character. each piece must stand apart as possessing an individual conception, and if the player fails to convey this impression to his audience, he is little better than some mechanical instrument. josef hofmann has the ability of investing each composition with an individual and characteristic charm that has always been very delightful to me. the significance of the pedal the pedal has been called the soul of the piano. i never realized what this meant until i heard anton rubinstein, whose playing seemed so marvelous to me that it beggars description. his mastery of the pedal was nothing short of phenomenal. in the last movement of the b flat minor sonata of chopin he produced pedal effects that can never be described, but for any one who remembers them they will always be treasured as one of the greatest of musical joys. the pedal is the study of a lifetime. it is the most difficult branch of higher pianoforte study. of course, one may make rules for its use, and the student should carefully study all these rules, but, at the same time, these rules may often be skilfully broken in order to produce some very charming effects. the rules represent a few known principles that are within the grasp of our musical intelligence. they may be compared with the planet upon which we live, and about which we know so much. beyond the rules, however, is the great universe--the celestial system which only the telescopic artistic sight of the great musician can penetrate. this, rubinstein, and some others, have done, bringing to our mundane vision undreamt-of beauties which they alone could perceive. the danger of convention while we must respect the traditions of the past, which for the most part are very intangible to us because they are only to be found in books, we must, nevertheless, not be bound down by convention. iconoclasm is the law of artistic progress. all great composers and performers have built upon the ruins of conventions that they themselves have destroyed. it is infinitely better to create than to imitate. before we can create, however, it is well to make ourselves familiar with the best that has preceded us. this applies not only to composition, but to pianoforte playing as well. the master pianists, rubinstein and liszt, were both marvelously broad in the scope of their knowledge. they knew the literature of the pianoforte in all its possible branches. they made themselves familiar with every possible phase of musical advancement. this is the reason for their gigantic prominence. their greatness was not the hollow shell of acquired technic. they knew. oh, for more students in these days with the genuine thirst for real musical knowledge, and not merely with the desire to make a superficial exhibition at the keyboard! real musical understanding i am told that some teachers lay a great deal of stress upon the necessity for the pupil learning the source of the composer's inspiration. this is interesting, of course, and may help to stimulate a dull imagination. however, i am convinced that it would be far better for the student to depend more upon his real musical understanding. it is a mistake to suppose that the knowledge of the fact that schubert was inspired by a certain poem, or that chopin was inspired by a certain legend, could ever make up for a lack of the real essentials leading to good pianoforte playing. the student must see, first of all, the main points of musical relationship in a composition. he must understand what it is that gives the work unity, cohesion, force, or grace, and must know how to bring out these elements. there is a tendency with some teachers to magnify the importance of auxiliary studies and minimize the importance of essentials. this course is wrong, and must lead to erroneous results. playing to educate the public the virtuoso must have some far greater motive than that of playing for gain. he has a mission, and that mission is to educate the public. it is quite as necessary for the sincere student in the home to carry on this educational work. for this reason it is to his advantage to direct his efforts toward pieces which he feels will be of musical educational advantage to his friends. in this he must use judgment and not overstep their intelligence too far. with the virtuoso it is somewhat different. he expects, and even demands, from his audience a certain grade of musical taste, a certain degree of musical education. otherwise he would work in vain. if the public would enjoy the greatest in music they must hear good music until these beauties become evident. it would be useless for the virtuoso to attempt a concert tour in the heart of africa. the virtuoso is expected to give his best, and he should not be criticized by audiences that have not the mental capacity to appreciate his work. the virtuosos look to the students of the world to do their share in the education of the great musical public. do not waste your time with music that is trite or ignoble. life is too short to spend it wandering in the barren saharas of musical trash. the vital spark in all good pianoforte playing there is a vital spark that seems to make each interpretation of a masterpiece--a living thing. it exists only for the moment, and cannot be explained. for instance, two pianists of equal technical ability may play the same composition. with one the playing is dull, lifeless and sapless, with the other there is something that is indescribably wonderful. his playing seems fairly to quiver with life. it commands interest and inspires the audience. what is this vital spark that brings life to mere notes? in one way it may be called the intense artistic interest of the player. it is that astonishing thing known as inspiration. when the composition was originally written the composer was unquestionably inspired; when the performer finds the same joy that the composer found at the moment the composition came into existence, then something new and different enters his playing. it seems to be stimulated and invigorated in a manner altogether marvelous. the audience realizes this instantly, and will even sometimes forgive technical imperfections if the performance is inspired. rubinstein was technically marvelous, and yet he admitted making mistakes. nevertheless, for every possible mistake he may have made, he gave, in return, ideas and musical tone pictures that would have made up for a million mistakes. when rubinstein was overexact his playing lost something of its wonderful charm. i remember that upon one occasion he was playing balakireff's _islamei_ at a concert. something distracted his attention and he apparently forgot the composition entirely; but he kept on improvising in the style of the piece, and after about four minutes the remainder of the composition came back to him and he played it to the end correctly. this annoyed him greatly and he played the next number upon the program with the greatest exactness, but, strange to say, it lost the wonderful charm of the interpretation of the piece in which his memory had failed him. rubinstein was really incomparable, even more so perhaps because he was full of human impulse and his playing very far removed from mechanical perfection. while, of course, the student must play the notes, and all of the notes, in the manner and in the time in which the composer intended that they should be played, his efforts should by no means stop with notes. every individual note in a composition is important, but there is something quite as important as the notes, and that is the soul. after all, the vital spark is the soul. the soul is the source of that higher expression in music which cannot be represented in dynamic marks. the soul feels the need for the _crescendos_ and _diminuendos_ intuitively. the mere matter of the duration of a pause upon a note depends upon its significance, and the soul of the artist dictates to him just how long such a pause should be held. if the student resorts to mechanical rules and depends upon them absolutely, his playing will be soulless. fine playing requires much deep thought away from the keyboard. the student should not feel that when the notes have been played his task is done. it is, in fact, only begun. he must make the piece a part of himself. every note must awaken in him a kind of musical consciousness of his real artistic mission. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xiv s. v. rachmaninoff 1. should the student gain an idea of the work as a whole before attempting detailed study? 2. how is the matter of digital technic regarded in russia? 3. what part should the study of phrasing play in modern music education? 4. state how contrast in playing may be accomplished. 5. what may be considered the most difficult branch of pianoforte study? 6. what is the law of artistic progress? 7. how must real musical understanding be achieved? 8. what is the vital spark in piano playing? 9. can one be overexact in playing? 10. what is the effect of too many mechanical rules? [illustration: a. reisenauer] alfred reisenauer biographical alfred reisenauer was born at königsberg, germany, nov. 1st, 1863. he was a pupil of his mother, louis köhler, and franz liszt. his début as a pianist was made in rome, in 1881, at the palace of cardinal hohenlohe. after a concert tour in germany and a visit to england he studied law for one year at the leipsic university. not finding this altogether to his liking he resumed his concert work and commenced a long series of tours which included all the nooks and corners of the world where one might find a musical public. he was an accomplished linguist, speaking many languages very fluently. his work as a composer was not significant but in certain branches of pianoforte playing he rose to exceptional heights. he died october 31st, 1907. xvii systematic musical training alfred reisenauer "i can never thank my mother enough for the splendid start she gave me in my early musical life. she was a wonderful woman and a veritable genius as a teacher. see, i have here to-day on my piano a copy of the schumann sonata in f sharp minor which she herself used and which she played with a feeling i have never heard equaled. there is one thing in particular for which i am everlastingly grateful to her. before i was taught anything of notes or of the piano keyboard, she took me aside one day and explained in the simple and beautiful tongue which only a mother employs in talking to her child, the wonderful natural relationships of tones used in making music. whether this was an inspiration, an intuition, or a carefully thought out plan for my benefit, i cannot tell, but my mother put into practice what i have since come to consider the most important and yet the most neglected step in the education of the child. the fault lies in the fact that most teachers at the start do not teach music, rather musical notation and the peculiarities of the instrument. nothing could possibly be more stultifying to the musical instinct of the child. for instance, the plan generally pursued is to let the child grope over the white keys of the piano keyboard and play exercises in the scale of c, until he begins to feel that the whole musical world lies in the scale of c, with the scales of f and g as the frontiers. the keys of f sharp, b, d flat and others are looked upon as tremendously difficult and the child mind reasons with its own peculiar logic that these keys being so much less used, must, of course be less important. the black keys upon the keyboard are a '_terra incognita_.' consequently at the very start the child has a radically incorrect view of what music really is. "before notation existed,--before keyboards were invented,--people sang. before a child knows anything of notation or a keyboard, it sings. it is following its natural, musical instinct. notation and keyboards are simply symbols of music--cages in which the beautiful bird is caught. they are not music any more than the alphabet is literature. unfortunately, our system of musical symbols and the keyboard itself are very complex. for the young child it is as difficult as are calculus and algebra for his older brother. as a matter of fact, the keys of f sharp, b, and d flat major, etc., are only difficult because fate has made them so. it would have served the musical purpose just as well if the pitch of the instruments employed had been adjusted so that what is now f sharp, would be the key of c major. that, however, would not have simplified matters and we have to receive our long established musical notation until we can exchange it for a better one. "at a very early age, i was taken to franz liszt by my mother. liszt immediately perceived my natural talent and strongly advised my mother to continue my musical work. at the same time he said 'as a child i was exposed to criticism as a wunderkind (prodigy), through the ignorance of my parents, long before i was properly prepared to meet the inevitable consequences of public appearance. this did incalculable damage to me. let your child be spared such a fate. my own experience was disastrous. do not let your son appear in public until he is a mature artist.' "my first teacher, louis köhler, was an artist and a great artist, but he was an artist-teacher rather than an artist-pianist. compared with many of his contemporaries his playing suffered immensely, but he made an art of teaching as few other men have done. he did not play for his pupils to any extent, nor did he ask them to imitate him in any way. his playing was usually confined to general illustrations and suggestions. by these means the individuality of his pupils was preserved and permitted to develop, so that while the pupil always had an excellent idea of the authoritative traditions governing the interpretation of a certain piece, there was nothing that suggested the stilted or wooden performance of the brainless mimic. he taught his pupils to think. he was an indefatigable student and thinker himself. he had what many teachers would have considered peculiar ideas upon technic. köhler's technical scheme "while he invented many little means whereby technical difficulties could be more readily overcome than by the existing plan he could not be called in any way radical. he believed in carrying the technical side of a pupil's education up to a certain point along more or less conventional lines. when the pupil reached that point he found that he was upon a veritable height of mechanical supremacy. thereafter köhler depended upon the technical difficulties presented in the literature of the instrument to continue the technical efficiency acquired. in other words, the acquisition of a technic was solely to enable the pupil to explore the world of music equipped in such a way that he was not to be overcome by anything. the everlasting continuance of technical exercises was looked upon by köhler as a ridiculous waste of time and a great injury. "i also hold this opinion. let us suppose that i were to sit at the piano for six or seven hours and do nothing but play conventional finger exercises. what happens to my soul, psychologically considered, during those hours spent upon exercises which no man or woman could possibly find anything other than an irritation? do not the same exercises occur in thousands of pieces but in such connection that the mind is interested? is it necessary for the advanced pianist to punish himself with a kind of mental and physical penance more trying, perhaps, than the devices of the medieval ascetics or the oriental priests of to-day? no, technic is the juggernaut which has ground to pieces more musicians than one can imagine. it produces a stiff, wooden touch and has a tendency to induce the pianist to believe that the art of pianoforte playing depends upon the continuance of technical exercises whereas the acquisition of technical ability should be regarded as the beginning and not the end. when pupils leave your schools you say that they are having a 'commencement.' the acquisition of a technic is only the commencement, unfortunately too many consider it the end. this may perhaps be the reason why our conservatories turn out so many bright and proficient young people who in a few years are buried in oblivion. with liszt "when i had reached a certain grade of advancement it was my great fortune to become associated with the immortal franz liszt. i consider liszt the greatest man i have ever met. by this i mean that i have never met, in any other walk of life, a man with the mental grasp, splendid disposition and glorious genius. this may seem a somewhat extravagant statement. i have met many, many great men, rulers, jurists, authors, scientists, teachers, merchants and warriors, but never have i met a man in any position whom i have not thought would have proved the inferior of franz liszt, had liszt chosen to follow the career of the man in question. liszt's personality can only be expressed by one word, 'colossal.' he had the most generous nature of any man i have ever met. he had aspirations to become a great composer, greater than his own measure of his work as a composer had revealed to him. the dire position of wagner presented itself. he abandoned his own ambitions--ambitions higher than those he ever held toward piano virtuosity--abandoned them completely to champion the difficult cause of the great wagner. what liszt suffered to make this sacrifice, the world does not know. but no finer example of moral heroism can be imagined. his conversations with me upon the subject were so intimate that i do not care to reveal one word. liszt's pedagogical methods his generosity and personal force in his work with the young artists he assisted are hard to describe. you ask me whether he had a certain method. i reply, he abhorred methods in the modern sense of the term. his work was eclectic in the highest sense. in one way he could not be considered a teacher at all. he charged no fees and had irregular and somewhat unsystematic classes. in another sense he was the greatest of teachers. sit at the piano and i will indicate the general plan pursued by liszt at a lesson. reisenauer is a remarkable and witty mimic of people he desires to describe. the present writer sat at the piano and played at some length through several short compositions, eventually coming to the inevitable "chopin valse, op. 69, no. 1, in a flat major." in the meanwhile, reisenauer had gone to another room and, after listening patiently, returned, imitating the walk, facial expression and the peculiar guttural snort characteristic of liszt in his later years. then followed a long "kindly sermon" upon the emotional possibilities of the composition. this was interrupted with snorts and went with kaleidoscopic rapidity from french to german and back again many, many times. imitating liszt he said, "first of all we must arrive at the very essence of the thing; the germ that chopin chose to have grow and blossom in his soul. it is, roughly considered, this: [illustration] chopin's next thought was, no doubt: [illustration] but with his unerring good taste and sense of symmetry he writes it so: [illustration] now consider the thing in studying it and while playing it from the composer's attitude. by this i mean that during the mental process of conception, before the actual transference of the thought to paper, the thought itself is in a nebulous condition. the composer sees it in a thousand lights before he actually determines upon the exact form he desires to perpetuate. for instance, this theme might have gone through chopin's mind much after this fashion: [illustration] "the main idea being to reach the embryo of chopin's thought and by artistic insight divine the connotation of that thought, as nearly as possible in the light of the treatment chopin has given it. "it is not so much the performer's duty to play mere notes and dynamic marks, as it is for him to make an artistic estimate of the composer's intention and to feel that during the period of reproduction he simulates the natural psychological conditions which affected the composer during the actual process of composition. in this way the composition becomes a living entity--a tangible resurrection of the soul of the great chopin. without such penetrative genius a pianist is no more than a mere machine and with it he may develop into an artist of the highest type." a unique attitude reisenauer's attitude toward the piano is unique and interesting. musicians are generally understood to have an affectionate regard for their instruments, almost paternal. not so with reisenauer. he even goes so far as to make this statement: "i have aways been drawn to the piano by a peculiar charm i have never been able to explain to myself. i feel that i must play, play, play, play, play. it has become a second nature to me. i have played so much and so long that the piano has become a part of me. yet i am never free from the feeling that it is a constant battle with the instrument, and even with my technical resources i am not able to express all the beauties i hear in the music. while music is my very life, i nevertheless hate the piano. i play because i can't help playing and because there is no other instrument which can come as near imitating the melodies and the harmonies of the music i feel. people say wherever i go, 'ah, he is a master.' what absurdity! i the master? why, there is the master (pointing to the piano), i am only the slave." the future of pianoforte music an interesting question that frequently arises in musical circles relates to the future possibilities of the art of composition in its connection with the pianoforte. not a few have some considerable apprehension regarding the possible dearth of new melodic material and the technical and artistic treatment of such material. "i do not think that there need be any fear of a lack of original melodic material or original methods of treating such material. the possibilities of the art of musical composition have by no means been exhausted. while i feel that in a certain sense, very difficult to illustrate with words, one great 'school' of composition for the pianoforte ended with liszt and the other in brahms, nevertheless i can but prophesy the arising of many new and wonderful schools in the future. i base my prophecy upon the premises of frequent similar conditions during the history of musical art. "nevertheless, it is yet my ambition to give a lengthy series of recitals, with programs arranged to give a chronological aspect of all the great masterpieces in music. i hope to be enabled to do this before i retire. it is part of a plan to circle the world in a manner that has not yet been done." when asked whether these programs were to resemble rubinstein's famous historical recitals in london, years ago, he replied: "they will be more extensive than the rubinstein recitals. the times make such a series possible now, which rubinstein would have hesitated to give." as to american composers, reisenauer is so thoroughly and enthusiastically won over by macdowell that he has not given the other composers sufficient attention to warrant a critical opinion. i found upon questioning that he had made a genuinely sincere effort to find new material in america, but he said that outside of macdowell, he found nothing but indifferently good salon-music. with the works of several american composers he was, however, unfamiliar. he has done little or nothing himself as a composer and declared that it was not his forte. american musical taste "i find that american musical taste is in many ways astonishing. many musicians who came to america prior to the time of thomas and damrosch returned to europe with what were, no doubt, true stories of the musical conditions in america at that time. these stories were given wide circulation in europe, and it is difficult for europeans to understand the cultured condition of the american people at the present time. america can never thank dr. leopold damrosch and theodore thomas enough for their unceasing labors. thanks to the impetus that they gave the movement, it is now possible to play programs in almost any american city that are in no sense different from those one is expected to give in great european capitals. the status of musical education in the leading american cities is surprisingly high. of course the commercial element necessarily affects it to a certain extent; but in many cases this is not as injurious as might be imagined. the future of music in america seems very roseate to me and i can look back to my american concert tours with great pleasure. concert conditions in america "one of the great difficulties, however, in concert touring in america is the matter of enormous distances. i often think that american audiences rarely hear great pianists at their best. considering the large amounts of money involved in a successful american tour and the business enterprise which must be extremely forceful to make such a tour possible, it is not to be wondered that enormous journeys must be made in ridiculously short time. no one can imagine what this means to even a man of my build." (reisenauer is a wonderfully strong and powerful man.) "i have been obliged to play in one western city one night and in an eastern city the following night. hundreds of miles lay between them. in the latter city i was obliged to go directly from the railroad depot to the stage of the concert hall, hungry, tired, travel worn and without practice opportunities. how can a man be at his best under such conditions?--yet certain conditions make these things unavoidable in america, and the pianist must suffer occasional criticism for not playing uniformly well. in europe such conditions do not exist owing to the closely populated districts. i am glad to have the opportunity to make this statement, as no doubt a very great many americans fail to realize under what distressing conditions an artist is often obliged to play in america." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xv alfred reisenauer 1. what should be the first step in the musical education of the child? 2. why was köhler so successful as a teacher? 3. did liszt follow a method in teaching or was his work eclectic? 4. give liszt's conception of how chopin developed one of his valses. 5. have the possibilities of the art of musical composition been exhausted? 6. are other great schools of pianoforte playing likely to arise? 7. what was reisenauer's opinion of the works of macdowell? 8. what may be said of musical taste in america when reisenauer was touring this country. 9. what may be said of the status of american musical education? 10. what great difficulties do the virtuosos visiting america encounter? [illustration: emil sauer] emil sauer biographical emil sauer was born in hamburg, germany, october 8, 1862. his first teacher was his mother, who was a fine musician, and who took exceptional pains with her talented son. from 1879 to 1881 he studied with nicholas rubinstein, brother of the famous anton rubinstein. nicholas rubinstein was declared by many to be a far abler teacher than his brother, who eclipsed him upon the concert platform. from 1884 to 1885 sauer studied with franz liszt. in his autobiographical work, "my life," sauer relates that liszt at that time had reached an age when much of his reputed brilliance had disappeared, and the playing of the great master of weimar did not startle sauer as it did some others. however, liszt took a great personal interest in sauer and prophesied a great future for him. in 1882 sauer made his first tour as a virtuoso, and met with such favor that numerous tours of the music-loving countries ensued. the critics praised his playing particularly for his great clarity, sanity, symmetrical appreciation of form, and unaffected fervor. for a time sauer was at the head of the meisterschule of piano-playing, connected with the imperial conservatory in vienna. (the following conference was conducted in german and english.) xviii the training of the virtuoso emil sauer one of the most inestimable advantages i have ever had was my good fortune in having a musical mother. it is to her that i owe my whole career as an artist. if it had not been for her loving care and her patient persistence i might have been engaged in some entirely different pursuit. as a child i was very indifferent to music. i abhorred practice, and, in fact, showed no signs of pronounced talent until my twelfth year. but she kept faithfully pegging away at me and insisted that because my grandfather had been a noted artist and because she was devoted to music it must be in my blood. my mother was a pupil of deppe, of whom miss amy fay has written in her book "music study in germany." deppe was a remarkable pedagogue and had excellent ideas upon the foundation of a rational system of touch. he sought the most natural position of the hand and always aimed to work along the line of least resistance. my mother instilled deppe's ideas into me together with a very comprehensive training in the standard etudes and classics within my youthful technical grasp. for those years i could not have had a better teacher. lucky is the child, who like gounod, reisenauer and others, has had the invaluable instruction that a patient, self-sacrificing mother can give. the mother is the most unselfish of all teachers, and is painstaking to a fault. slow systematic practice she insisted upon slow systematic regular practice. she knew the importance of regularity, and one of the first things i ever learned was that if i missed one or two days' practice, i could not hope to make it up by practicing overtime on the following days. practice days missed or skipped are gone forever. one must make a fresh start and the loss is sometimes not recovered for several days. i was also made to realize the necessity of freshness at the practice period. the pupil who wants to make his practice lead to results must feel well while practicing. practicing while tired, either mentally or physically, is wasted practice. pupils must learn to concentrate, and if they have not the ability to do this naturally they should have a master who will teach them how. it is not easy to fix the mind upon one thing and at the same time drive every other thought away. with some young pupils this takes much practice. some never acquire it--it is not in them. concentration is the vertebræ of musical success. the student who cannot concentrate had better abandon musical study. in fact, the young person who cannot concentrate is not likely to be a conspicuous success in any line of activity. the study of music cultivates the pupil's powers of concentration perhaps more than any other study. the notes to be played must be recognized instantaneously and correctly performed. in music the mind has no time to wander. this is one of the reasons why music is so valuable even for those who do not ever contemplate a professional career. one hour of concentrated practice with the mind fresh and the body rested is better than four hours of dissipated practice with the mind stale and the body tired. with a fatigued intellect the fingers simply dawdle over the keys and nothing is accomplished. i find in my own daily practice that it is best for me to practice two hours in the morning and then two hours later in the day. when i am finished with two hours of hard study i am exhausted from close concentration. i have also noted that any time over this period is wasted. i am too fatigued for the practice to be of any benefit to me. the necessity for a good general education parents make a great mistake in not insuring the general education of the child who is destined to become a concert performer. i can imagine nothing more stultifying or more likely to result in artistic disaster than the course that some parents take in neglecting the child's school work with an idea that if he is to become a professional musician he need only devote himself to music. this one-sided cultivation should be reserved for idiots who can do nothing else. the child-wonder is often the victim of some mental disturbance. i remember once seeing a remarkable child mathematician in hungary. he was only twelve years of age and yet the most complicated mathematical problems were solved in a few seconds without recourse to paper. the child had water on the brain and lived but a few years. his usefulness to the world of mathematics was limited solely to show purposes. it is precisely the same with the so-called musical precocities. they are rarely successful in after life, and unless trained by some very wise and careful teacher, they soon become objects for pity. the child who is designed to become a concert pianist should have the broadest possible culture. he must live in the world of art and letters and become a naturalized citizen. the wider the range of his information, experience and sympathies, the larger will be the audience he will reach when he comes to talk to them from the concert platform. it is the same as with a public speaker. no one wants to hear a speaker who has led a narrow, crabbed intellectual existence, but the man who has seen and known the world, who has become acquainted with the great masterpieces of art and the wonderful achievements of science, has little difficulty in securing an audience providing he has mastered the means of expressing his ideas. clean playing vs. slovenly playing in the matter of technical preparation there is, perhaps, too little attention being given to-day to the necessity for clean playing. of course, each individual requires a different treatment. the pupil who has a tendency to play with stiffness and rigidity may be given studies which will develop a more fluent style. for these pupils' studies, like those of heller, are desirable in the cases of students with only moderate technical ability, while the splendid "etudes" of chopin are excellent remedies for advanced pupils with tendencies toward hard, rigid playing. the difficulty one ordinarily meets, however, is ragged, slovenly playing rather than stiff, rigid playing. to remedy this slovenliness, there is nothing like the well-known works of czerny, cramer or clementi. i have frequently told pupils in my "meisterschule" in vienna, before i abandoned teaching for my work as a concert pianist, that they must learn to draw before they learn to paint. they will persist in trying to apply colors before they learn the art of making correct designs. this leads to dismal failure in almost every case. technic first--then interpretation. the great concert-going public has no use for a player with a dirty, slovenly technic no matter how much he strives to make morbidly sentimental interpretations that are expected to reach the lovers of sensation. for such players a conscientious and exacting study of czerny, cramer, clementi and others of similar design is good musical soap and water. it washes them into respectability and technical decency. the pianist with a bungling, slovenly technic, who at the same time attempts to perform the great masterpieces, reminds me of those persons who attempt to disguise the necessity for soap and water with nauseating perfume. health a vital factor few people realize what a vital factor health is to the concert pianist. the student should never fail to think of this. many young americans who go abroad to study break down upon the very vehicle upon which they must depend in their ride to success through the indiscretions of overwork or wrong living. the concert pianist really lives a life of privation. i always make it a point to restrict myself to certain hygienic rules on the day before a concert. i have a certain diet and a certain amount of exercise and sleep, without which i cannot play successfully. in america one is overcome with the kindness of well-meaning people who insist upon late suppers, receptions, etc. it is hard to refuse kindness of this description, but i have always felt that my debt to my audiences was a matter of prime importance, and while on tour i refrain from social pleasures of all kinds. my mind and my body must be right or failure will surely result. i have often had people say to me after the performance of some particularly brilliant number "ah! you must have taken a bottle of champagne to give a performance like that." nothing could be further from the truth. a half a bottle of beer would ruin a recital for me. the habit of taking alcoholic drinks with the idea that they lead to a more fiery performance is a dangerous custom that has been the ruin of more than one pianist. the performer who would be at his best must live a very careful, almost abstemious life. any unnatural excess is sure to mar his playing and lead to his downfall with the public. i have seen this done over and over again, and have watched alcohol tear down in a few years what had taken decades of hard practice and earnest study to build up. judicious use of technical exercises the field of music is so enormous that i have often thought that the teacher should be very careful not to overdo the matter of giving technical exercises. technical exercises are, at best, short cuts. they are necessary for the student. he should have a variety of them, and not be kept incessantly pounding away at one or two exercises. as nicholas rubinstein once said to me, "scales should never be dry. if you are not interested in them work with them until you become interested in them." they should be played with accents and in different rhythms. if they are given in the shapeless manner in which some teachers obliged their unfortunate pupils to practice them they are worthless. i do not believe in working out technical exercises at a table or with a dumb piano. the brain must always work with the fingers, and without the sound of the piano the imagination must be enormously stretched to get anything more than the most senseless, toneless, soulless touch. technic with many is unmistakably a gift. i say this after having given the matter much careful thought. it is like the gift of speech. some people are fluent talkers, precisely as some people can do more in two hours' technical work at the keyboard than others could accomplish with four. of course, much can be accomplished with persistent practice, and a latent gift may be awakened, but it is certainly not given to all to become able technicalists. again some become very proficient from the technical standpoint, but are barren, soulless, uninspired and vapid when it comes to the artistic and musicianly interpretation of a piece. there comes a time to every advanced pianist when such exercises as the scales, arpeggios, the studies of czerny and cramer are unnecessary. i have not practiced them for some years, but pray do not think that i attempt to go without exercises. these exercises i make by selecting difficult parts of famous pieces and practicing them over and over. i find the concertos of hummel particularly valuable in this connection, and there are parts of some of the beethoven concertos that make splendid musical exercises that i can practice without the fatal diminution of interest which makes a technical exercise valueless. study abroad in the matter of foreign study i think that i may speak without bias, as i am engaged in teaching and am not likely to resume for some years. i am _absolutely convinced_ that there are many teachers in america who are as good as the best in europe. nevertheless, i would advise the young american to secure the best instruction possible in his native land, and then to go abroad for a further course. it will serve to broaden him in many ways. i believe in patriotism, and i admire the man who sticks to his fatherland. but, in art there is no such thing as patriotism. as the conservatory of paris provides, through the "prix de rome," for a three years' residence in italy and other countries for the most promising pupil, so the young american music students should avail themselves of the advantages of old world civilization, art, and music. there is much to be learned from the hustle and vigorous wholesome growth of your own country that would be of decided advantage to the german students who could afford a term of residence here. it is narrowing to think that one should avoid the old world art centers from the standpoint of american patriotism. versatility few people recognize the multifarious requirements of the concert pianist. he must adjust himself to all sorts of halls, pianos and living conditions. the difference between one piano and another is often very remarkable. it sometimes obliges the artist to readjust his technical methods very materially. again, the difference in halls is noteworthy. in a great hall, like the albert hall of london, one can only strive for very broad effects. it is not possible for one to attempt the delicate shadings which the smaller halls demand. much is lost in the great hall, and it is often unjust to determine the pianist's ability by his exclusively bravura performances in very large auditoriums. cultivating finger strength the concert pianist must have great endurance. his fingers must be as strong as steel, and yet they must be as elastic and as supple as willow wands. i have always had great faith in the "kleine pischna" and the "pischna exercises" in cultivating strength. these exercises are now world famous, and it would be hard for me to imagine anything better for this particular purpose. they are somewhat voluminous, but necessarily so. one conspicuous difficulty with which teachers have to contend is that pupils attempt pieces requiring great digital strength without ever having gone through such a course as i advocate above. the result is that they have all sorts of troubles with their hands through strain. some of these troubles are irremediable, others are curable, but cause annoying delays. i have never had anything of this sort and attribute my immunity from weeping sinews, etc., to correct hand positions, a loose wrist and slow systematic work in my youth. velocity velocity depends more upon natural elasticity than strength. some people seem to be born with the ability to play rapidly. it is always a matter of the fingers, but is more a matter of the brain. some people have the ability to think very rapidly, and when these people have good supple hands they seem to be able to play rapidly with comparatively little study. when you fail to get velocity at first, do not hesitate to lay the piece aside for several weeks, months or years. then you will doubtless find that the matter of velocity will not trouble you. too much study upon a piece that fails for the time being to respond to earnest effort is often a bad thing. be a little patient. it will all come out right in the end. if you fuss and fume for immediate results you may be sadly disappointed. talent talent is great and immutable. take the case of liszt, for instance. i recently heard from a reliable source the following interesting story: one day liszt was called away from his class at wiemar by an invitation to visit the grand duke. von bülow, then a mature artist, was present, and he was asked by liszt to teach the class for the day. liszt left the room, and a young student was asked to play one of liszt's own compositions. von bülow did not like the youth's interpretation, as he had been accustomed to play the same work on tour in a very different manner. consequently he abused the student roundly, and then sat at the keyboard and was playing to his great satisfaction when the tottering old master broke in the room and with equal severity reprimanded von bülow, and sat down at the keyboard and gave an interpretation that was infinitely superior to that of von bülow. it was simply a case of superiority of talent that enabled the aged and somewhat infirm liszt to excel his younger contemporary. be natural in closing, let me enjoin all young american music students to strive for naturalness. avoid ostentatious movements in your playing. let your playing be as quiet as possible. the wrist should be loose. the hands, to my mind, should be neither high nor low, but should be in line with the forearm. one should continually strive for quietness. nothing should be forced. ease in playing is always admirable, and comes in time to all talented students who seek it. the deppe method of hand position, while pedantic and unnecessarily long, is interesting and instructive. personally, i advocate the use of the etudes of chopin, moscheles and the _etudes transcendante_ to all advanced pupils. i have used them with pupils with invariable success. i have also a series of thirteen etudes of my own that i have made for the express purpose of affording pupils material for work which is not adequately covered in the usual course. young americans have a great future before them. the pupils i have had have invariably been ones who progress with astonishing rapidity. they show keenness and good taste, and are willing to work faithfully and conscientiously, and that, after all, is the true road to success. talent counts if you think that talent does not count you are very greatly mistaken. we not infrequently see men who have been engaged in one occupation with only very moderate success suddenly leap into fame in an entirely different line. men who have struggled to be great artists or illustrators like du maurier astonish the world with a previously concealed literary ability. it is foolish not to recognize the part that talent must play in the careers of artists. sometimes hard work and patient persistence will stimulate the mind and soul, and reveal talents that were never supposed to exist, but if the talent does not exist it is as hopeless to hunt for it as it is to seek for diamonds in a bowl of porridge. talented people seem to be born with the knack or ability to do certain things twice as well and twice as quickly as other people can do the same things. i well remember that when all europe was wild over the "diabolo" craze my little girl commenced to play with the sticks and the little spool. it looked interesting and i thought that i would try it a few times and then show her how to do it. the more i tried the more exasperated i became. i simply could not make it go, and before i knew it i had wasted a whole morning upon it. my little daughter took it up and in a few minutes' practice she was able to do it as well as an expert. it is precisely the same at the keyboard. what takes some pupils hours to accomplish others can do in a few seconds with apparently less effort. the age of the pupil seems to have little to do with musical comprehension. what does count is talent, that peculiar qualification which seems to lead the student to see through complex problems as if he had been solving them through different generations for centuries. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xvi emil sauer 1. can missed practice periods ever be made up? 2. does piano study cultivate concentration? 3. what is a good arrangement of practice hours? 4. what are some remedies for slovenly playing? 5. how is one's playing affected by health? 6. are stimulants good or bad? 7. is listening important in pianoforte playing? 8. how may finger strength be cultivated? 9. upon what does velocity depend? 10. what part does talent play in the artist's success? [illustration: x. scharwenka] xaver scharwenka biographical franz xaver scharwenka was born at samter, posen (polish prussia), january 6, 1850. he was a pupil of kullak and würst at kullak's academy in berlin, from which he graduated in 1868. shortly thereafter he was appointed a teacher in the same institution. the next year he made his début as a virtuoso at the _singakademie_. for many years thereafter he gave regular concerts in berlin in connection with sauret and grünfeld. in 1874 he gave up his position in the famous berlin music school and commenced the career of the touring virtuoso. in 1880 he founded the scharwenka conservatory in berlin together with his brother philipp scharwenka, an able composer. in 1891 scharwenka came to new york to establish a conservatory there. this, however, was closed in 1898 when scharwenka returned to berlin as director of the klindworth-scharwenka conservatory. he has been the recipient of numerous honors from the governments of austria and germany. he received the title of "professor" from the king of prussia (emperor wilhelm ii) and that of court pianist from the emperor of austria. his many concert tours in america and in europe have established his fame as a pianist of great intellectual strength as well as strong poetical force. his compositions, including his four concertos, have been widely played, and his opera, _mataswintha_, has received important productions. one of his earlier works, the _polish dance_, has been enormously popular for a quarter of a century. (the following conference was conducted in german and english.) xix economy in music study xaver scharwenka it is somewhat of a question whether any time spent in music study is actually wasted, since all intellectual activity is necessarily accompanied by an intellectual advance. however, it soon becomes apparent to the young teacher that results can be achieved with a great economy of time if the right methods are used. by the use of the words "right methods" i do not mean to infer that only one right method exists. the right method for one pupil might be quite different from that which would bring about the best results with another pupil. in these days far more elasticity of methods exists than was generally sanctioned in the past, and the greatness of the teacher consists very largely of his ability to invent, adapt, and adjust his pedagogical means to the special requirements of his pupil. thus it happens that the teacher, by selecting only those exercises, etudes and teaching pieces demanded by the obvious needs of the pupil, and by eliminating unnecessary material, a much more rapid rate of advancement may be obtained. one pupil, for instance, might lack those qualities of velocity and dexterity which many of the etudes of czerny develop in such an admirable manner, while another pupil might be deficient in the singing tone, which is almost invariably improved by the study of certain chopin etudes. time lost in early study although my educational work for many years has been almost exclusively limited to pupils preparing for careers as teachers and as concert pianists, i nevertheless have naturally taken a great interest in those broad and significant problems which underlie the elementary training of the young music student. i have written quite extensively upon the subject, and my ideas have been quite definitely expressed in my book, _methodik des klavierspiels: systematische darstellung der technischen und æsthetischen erfordernisse für einen rationellen lehrgang_. i have also come in close contact with this branch of musical work in the klindworth-scharwenka conservatory in berlin. my observations have led to the firm conviction that much of the time lost in music study could be saved if the elementary training of the pupil were made more comprehensive and more secure. it is by no means an economy of time to hurry over the foundation work of the pupil. it is also by no means an economy of money to place the beginner in the hands of a second-rate teacher. there is just as much need for the specialist to train the pupil at the start as there is for the head of the "meisterschule" to guide the budding virtuoso. how can we expect the pupil to make rapid progress if the start is not right? one might as well expect a broken-down automobile to win a race. the equipment at the beginning must be of the kind which will carry the pupil through his entire career with success. if any omissions occur, they must be made up later on, and the difficulty in repairing this neglect is twice as great as it would have been had the student received the proper instruction at the start. ear-training the training of the ear is of great importance, and if teachers would only make sure that their pupils studied music with their sense of hearing as well as with their fingers, much time would be saved in later work. young pupils should be taught to listen by permitting them to hear good music, which is at the same time sufficiently simple to insure comprehension. early musical education is altogether too one-sided. the child is taken to the piano and a peculiar set of hieroglyphics known as notation is displayed to him. he is given a few weeks to comprehend that these signs refer to certain keys on the keyboard. he commences to push down these keys faithfully and patiently and his musical education is thus launched in what many consider the approved manner. nothing is said about the meaning of the piece, its rhythm, its harmonies, its æsthetic beauties. nothing is told of the composer, or of the period in which the piece was written. it would be just about as sensible to teach a pupil to repeat the sounds of the chinese language by reading the chinese word-signs, but without comprehending the meaning of the sounds and signs. is it any wonder that beginners lose interest in their work, and refuse to practise except when compelled to do so? i am most emphatically in favor of a more rational, a more broad, and a more thorough training of the beginner. time taken from that ordinarily given to the senseless, brainless working up and down of the fingers at the keyboard, and devoted to those studies such as harmony, musical history, form, and in fact, any study which will tend to widen the pupil's knowledge and increase his interest, will save much time in later work. waste in technical study geometrically speaking, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. teachers should make every possible effort to find the straight line of technic which will carry the pupil from his first steps to technical proficiency without wandering about through endless lanes and avenues which lead to no particular end. i suppose that all american teachers hear the same complaint that is heard by all european teachers when any attempt is made to insist upon thorough practice and adequate study from the _dilettante_. as soon as the teacher demands certain indispensable technical studies, certain necessary investigations of the harmonic, æsthetic or historical problems, which contribute so much to the excellence of pianistic interpretations, he hears the following complaint: "i don't want to be a composer" or "i don't want to be a virtuoso--i only want to play just a little for my own amusement." the teacher knows and appreciates the pupil's attitude exactly, and while he realizes that his reasoning is altogether fatuous, it seems well-nigh impossible to explain to the amateur that unless he does his work right he will get very little real pleasure or amusement out of it. the whole sum and substance of the matter is that a certain amount of technical, theoretical and historical knowledge must be acquired to make the musician, before we can make a player. there is the distinction. teachers should never fail to remember that their first consideration should be to make a musician. all unmusical playing is insufferable. no amount of technical study will make a musician, and all technical study which simply aims to make the fingers go faster, or play complicated rhythms, is wasted unless there is the foundation and culture of the real musician behind it. to the sincere student every piece presents technical problems peculiar to itself. the main objection to all technical study is that unless the pupil is vitally interested the work becomes monotonous. the student should constantly strive to avoid monotony in practicing exercises. as soon as the exercises become dull and uninteresting their value immediately depreciates. the only way to avoid this is to seek variety. as i have said in my _methodik des klavierspiels_: "the musical and tonal monotony of technical exercises may be lessened in a measure by progressive modulations, by various rhythmical alterations, and further through frequent changes in contrary motion." great stress should be laid upon practice in contrary motion. the reason for this is obvious to all students of harmony. when playing in contrary motion all unevenness, all breaks in precision and all unbalanced conditions of touch become much more evident to the ear than if the same exercises were played in parallel motion. another important reason for the helpfulness of playing in contrary motion is not to be undervalued. it is that a kind of physical 'sympathy' is developed between the fingers and the nerves which operate them in the corresponding hands. for instance, it is much easier to play with the fifth finger of one hand and the fifth finger of the other hand than it is to play with the third finger of one hand and the fifth finger of another." waste in unimportant subjects there is a general impression among teachers to-day that much time might be saved by a more careful selection of studies, and by a better adaptation of the studies to particular pupils. for instance, carl czerny wrote over one thousand opus numbers. he wrote some of the most valuable studies ever written, but no one would think of demanding a pupil to play all of the czerny studies, any more than the student should be compelled to play everything that loeschhorn, cramer and clementi ever wrote. studies must be selected with great care and adapted to particular cases, and if the young teacher feels himself incapable of doing this, he should either use selections or collections of studies edited by able authorities or he should place himself under the advice of some mature and experienced teacher until the right experience has been obtained. it would not be a bad plan to demand that all young teachers be apprenticed to an older teacher until the right amount of experience has been obtained. the completion of a course in music does not imply that the student is able to teach. teaching and the matter of musical proficiency are two very different things. many conservatories now conduct classes for teachers, which are excellent in their way. in the olden days a mechanic had to work side by side with his master before he was considered proficient to do his work by himself. how much more important is it that our educators should be competently trained. they do not have to deal with machinery, but they do have to deal with the most wonderful of all machines--the human brain. some studies in use by teachers are undeserving of their popularity, according to my way of thinking. some studies are altogether trivial and quite dispensable. i have never held any particular fondness for heller for instance. his studies are tuneful, but they seem to me, in many cases, weak imitations of the style of some masters such as schumann, mendelssohn, etc., who may be studied with more profit. i believe that the studies of loeschhorn possess great pedagogical value. loeschhorn was a born teacher: he knew how to collect and present technical difficulties in a manner designed to be of real assistance to the student. the studies of kullak are also extremely fine. this is a subject which is far more significant than it may at first appear. whatever the student may choose to study after he leaves the teacher, his work while under the teacher's direction should be focused upon just those pieces which will be of most value to him. the teacher should see that the course he prescribes is unified. there should be no waste material. some teachers are inclined to teach pieces of a worthless order to gain the fickle interest of some pupils. they feel that it is better to teach an operatic arrangement, no matter how superficial, and retain the interest of the pupil, than to insist upon what they know is really best for the pupil, and run the risk of having the pupil go to another teacher less conscientious about making compromises of this sort. when the teacher has come to a position where he is obliged to permit the pupil to select his own pieces or dictate the kind of pieces he is to be taught in order to retain his interest, the teacher will find that he has very little influence over the pupil. pupils who insist upon mapping out their own careers are always stumbling-blocks. it is far better to make it very clear to the pupil in the first place that interference of this kind is never desirable, and that unless the pupil has implicit confidence in the teacher's judgment it is better to discontinue. brain technic versus finger technic few pupils realize that hours and hours are wasted at the piano keyboard doing those things which we are already able to do, and in the quest of something which we already possess. when we come to think of it, every one is born with a kind of finger dexterity. any one can move the fingers up and down with great rapidity; no study of the pianoforte keyboard is necessary to do this. the savage in the african wilds is gifted with that kind of dexterity, although he may never have seen a pianoforte. then why spend hours in practicing at the keyboard with the view of doing something we can already do? it may come as a surprise to many when i make the statement that they already possess a kind of dexterity and velocity which they may not suspect. one does not have to work for years to make the fingers go up and down quickly. it is also a fact that a few lessons under a really good teacher and a few tickets for high-class piano recitals will often give the feeling and "knack" of producing a good touch, for which many strive in vain for years at the keyboard. no, the technic which takes time is the technic of the brain, which directs the fingers to the right place at the right time. this may be made the greatest source of musical economy. if you want to save time in your music study see that you comprehend your musical problems thoroughly. you must see it right in your mind, you must hear it right, you must feel it right. before you place your fingers on the keyboard you should have formed your ideal mental conception of the proper rhythm, the proper tonal quality, the æsthetic values and the harmonic content. these things can only be perfectly comprehended after study. they do not come from strumming at the keyboard. this, after all, is the greatest possible means for saving time in music study. a great deal might be said upon the subject of the teacher's part in saving time. the good teacher is a keen critic. his experience and his innate ability enable him to diagnose faults just as a trained medical specialist can determine the cause of a disease with accuracy and rapidity. much depends upon the diagnosis. it is no saving to go to a doctor who diagnoses your case as one of rheumatism and treats you for rheumatic pains, whereas you are really suffering from neurasthenia. in a similar manner, an unskilled and incompetent teacher may waste much treasured time in treating you for technical and musical deficiencies entirely different from those which you really suffer. great care should be taken in selecting a teacher for with the wrong teacher not only time is wasted, but talent, energy, and sometimes that jewel in the crown of success--"ambition." a case in point an illustration of one means of wasting time is well indicated in the case of some pedagogs who hold to old ideas in piano-playing simply because they are old. i believe in conservatism, but at the same time i am opposed to conservatism which excludes all progressiveness. the world is continually advancing, and we are continually finding out new things as well as determining which of the older methods will prove the best in the long run. all musical europe has been upset during the last quarter of the century over the vital subject of whether the pressure touch is better than the angular blow touch. there was a time in the past when an apparent effort was made to make everything pertaining to pianoforte technic as stiff and inelastic as possible. the fingers were trained to hop up and down like little hammers--the arm was held stiff and hard at the side. in fact, it was not uncommon for some teachers to put a book under the armpit and insist upon their pupils holding it there by pressing against the body during the practice period. h. ehrlich, who in his day was a widely recognized authority, wrote a pamphlet to accompany his edition of the tausig technical studies in which this system is very clearly outlined. he asserts that tausig insisted upon it. to-day we witness a great revolution. the arms are held freely and rigidity of all kind is avoided. it was found that the entire system of touch was under a more delicate and sensitive control when the pressure touch was employed than when the mechanical "hitting" touch was used. it was also found that much of the time spent in developing the hitting touch along mechanical lines was wasted, since superior results could be achieved in a shorter time by means of pressing and "kneading" the keys, rather than delivering blows to them. the pressure touch seems to me very much freer and i am emphatically in favor of it. the older method produced cramped unmusical playing and the pupil was so restricted that he reminded one for all the world of the new-fangled skirts ("hobble-skirts") which seem to give our ladies of fashion so much difficulty just now. the american pupils who have come to germany to study with me have been for the most part exceedingly well trained. in america there are innumerable excellent teachers. the american pupil is almost always very industrious. his chief point of vantage is his ability to concentrate. he does not dissipate his time or thought. in some instances he can only remain in europe for two years--sometimes less. he quite naturally feels that a great deal must be done in those two years, and consequently he works at white heat. this is not a disadvantage, for his mental powers are intensified and he is faithful to his labor. the young women of america are for the most part very self-reliant. this is also very much to their advantage. as a rule, they know how to take care of themselves, and yet they have the courage to venture and ask questions when questions should be asked. my residence in america has brought me many good friends, and it is a pleasure to note the great advance made in every way since my last visit here. i am particularly anxious to have some of my later compositions become better known in america, as i have great faith in the musical future of the country. i wish that they might become familiar with such works as my _fourth concerto_. i should deeply regret to think that americans would judge my work as a composer by my "polish dance" and some other lighter compositions which are obviously inferior to my other works. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xvii xaver scharwenka 1. is any time spent in music study really wasted? 2. how may the pupil's elementary work be made more secure? 3. state the importance of ear-training. 4. what additional musical studies should be included in the work of the pupil? 5. what should be the teacher's first consideration? 6. why must monotony be avoided in technical study? 7. state the value of practice in contrary motion. 8. may time be wasted with unprofitable studies? 9. what is the difference between brain technic and finger technic? 10. state how a revolution in methods of touch has come about. ernest schelling biographical ernest schelling was born at belvidere, new jersey, 1875. his first musical training was received from his father. at the age of four and one-half years he made his début at the philadelphia academy of music. at the age of seven he entered the paris conservatoire, with the famous chopin pupil, georges mathias, as his teacher. he remained with mathias for two years. however, he commenced giving concerts which took him to france, england, and austria when he was only eight years old. at ten he was taken to stuttgart and placed under the educational guidance of pruckner and the american teacher, percy götschius, who attained wide fame abroad. shortly thereafter he was placed for a short time under the instruction of leschetizky, but this was interrupted by tours through russia and other countries. at twelve he was taken to basle, switzerland, and hans huber undertook to continue his already much varied training. here his general education received the attention which had been much neglected. at fifteen he went to study with barth in berlin, but the strain of his previous work was so great that at seventeen he was attacked with neuritis and abandoned the career of a virtuoso. an accidental meeting with paderewski led to an arrangement whereby paderewski became his teacher for three years during which time paderewski had no other pupils. since then schelling has made numerous tours at home and abroad. [illustration: ernest schelling] xx learning a new piece ernest schelling preliminary study in studying a new musical composition experience has revealed to me that the student can save much time and get a better general idea of the composition by reading it over several times before going to the instrument. while this is difficult for very young pupils to do before they have become accustomed to mentally interpreting the notes into sounds without the assistance of the instrument, it is, nevertheless, of advantage from the very start. it saves the pupil from much unprofitable blundering. to take a piece right to the keyboard without any preliminary consideration may perhaps be good practice for those who would cultivate ready sight reading, but it should be remembered that even the most apt sight readers will usually take the precaution of looking a new piece through at least once to place themselves on guard for the more difficult or more complicated passages. by forming the habit of reading away from the piano the pupil soon becomes able to hear the music without making the sounds at the keyboard and this leads to a mental conception of the piece as a whole, which invariably produces surprisingly good results. the technical demands of the piece "the next consideration should be the execution of the right notes. a careless prima-vista reading often leads the pupil to play notes quite different from those actually in the piece. it is astonishing how often some pupils are deceived in this matter. until you have insured absolute accuracy in the matter of the notes you are not in condition to regard the other details. the failure to repeat an accidental chromatic alteration in the same bar, the neglect of a tie, or an enharmonic interval with a tie are all common faults which mark careless performances. after the piece has been read as a whole and you have determined upon the notes so that there is no opportunity for inaccuracy from that source you will find that the best way to proceed is to take a very small passage and study that passage first. for the inexperienced student i should suggest two measures or a phrase of similar length. do not leave these two measures until you are convinced that you have mastered them. this will take a great amount of concentration. many pupils fail because they underestimate the amount of concentration required. they expect results to come without effort and are invariably disappointed. after the first two measures have been mastered take the next two measures and learn these thoroughly. then go back and learn measures two and three so that there may be no possibility of a break or interruption between them. next proceed in the same way with the following four measures and do not stop until you have completed the piece. this kind of study may take more time than the methods to which you have become accustomed, but it is by all means the most thorough and the most satisfactory. i found it indispensable in the preparation of pieces for public performances. it demands the closest kind of study, and this leads to artistic results and a higher perception of the musical values of the composition being studied. take for instance the c major fantasie of schumann, one of the most beautiful and yet one of the most difficult of all compositions to interpret properly. at first the whole work seems disunited, and if studied carelessly the necessary unity which should mark this work can never be secured. but, if studied with minute regard for details after the manner in which i have suggested the whole composition becomes wonderfully compact and every part is linked to the other parts so that a beautiful unity must result. formal divisions "many works have formal divisions, such as those of the sonata, the suite, etc. even the liszt 'rhapsodies' have movements of marked differences in tempo and style. here the secret is to study each division in its relation to the whole. there must be an internal harmony between all the parts. otherwise the interpretation will mar the great masterpiece. the difficulty is to find the bearing of one movement upon another. even the themes of subjects of the conventional sonata have a definite interrelation. how to interpret these themes and yet at the same time produce contrast and unity is difficult. it is this difference of interpretation that adds charm to the piano recitals of different virtuosos. there is no one right way and no one best way, but rather an indefinite margin for personal opinion and the exhibition of artistic taste. if there was one best way, there are now machines which could record that way and there the whole matter would end. but we want to hear all the ways and consequently we go to the recitals of different pianists. how can i express more emphatically the necessity for the pianist being a man of culture, artistic sensibilities and of creative tendencies? the student must be taught to think about his interpretations and if this point is missed and he is permitted to give conventional, uninspired performances he need never hope to play artistically. the touch required "in studying a new piece, as soon as the style of the piece has been determined and the accuracy of the notes secured, the pupil should consider the all-important matter to touch. he should have been previously instructed in the principles of the different kinds of touch used in pianoforte playing. i am a firm believer in associating the appropriate kind of touch with the passage studied from the very beginning. if the passage calls for a staccato touch do not waste your time as many do by practicing it legato. again, in a cantabile passage do not make the mistake of using a touch that would produce the wrong quality of tone. the wrists at all times should be in the most supple possible condition. there should never be any constraint at that point. when i resumed my musical studies with paderewski after a lapse of several years he laid greatest emphasis upon this point. i feel that the most valuable years for the development of touch and tone are those which bind the natural facility of the child hand with the acquired agility of the adult. to my great misfortune i was not able to practice between the ages of twelve and eighteen. this was due to excessive study and extensive concert tours as a prodigy. these wrecked my health and it was only by the hardest kind of practice in after life that i was able to regain the natural facility that had marked my playing in childhood. in fact i owe everything to the kind persistence and wonderful inspiration of m. paderewski. the right tempo "the right tempo is a very important matter for the student. first of all, he must be absolutely positive that his time is correct. there is nothing so barbarous in all piano-playing as a bad conception of time. even the inexperienced and unmusical listener detects bad time. the student should consider this matter one of greatest importance and demand perfect time from himself. with some students this can only be cultivated after much painful effort. the metronome is of assistance, as is counting, but these are not enough. the pupil must create a sense of time, he must have a sort of internal metronome which he must feel throbbing within all the time. "always begin your practice slowly and gradually advance the tempo. the worst possible thing is to start practicing too fast. it invariably leads to bad results and to lengthy delays. the right tempo will come with time and you must have patience until you can develop it. in the matter of 'tempo rubato' passages, which always invite disaster upon the part of the student, the general idea is that the right hand must be out of time with the left. this is not always the case, as they sometimes play in unison. the word simply implies 'robbing the time,' but it is robbed after the same manner in which one 'robs peter to pay paul,' that is, a ritard in one part of the measure must be compensated for by an acceleration in another part of the measure. if the right hand is to play at variance with the left hand the latter remains as a kind of anchor upon which the tempo of the entire measure must depend. chopin called the left hand the _chef d'orchestre_ and a very good appellation this is. take, for instance, his _b flat minor prelude_. in the latter part of this wonderful composition the regular rhythmic repetition in octaves in the bass makes a rhythmic foundation which the most erratic and nervous right hand cannot shake. rhythmic peculiarities "rhythm is the basis of everything. even the silent mountain boulders are but the monuments of some terrible rhythmic convulsion of the earth in past ages. there is a rhythm in the humming bird and there is a rhythm in the movements of a giant locomotive. we are all rhythmic in our speech, our walk, and in our life more or less. how important then is the study of the rhythmic peculiarities of the new piece. every contributing accent which gives motion and characteristic swing to the piece must be carefully studied. it is rhythm which sways the audience. some performers are so gifted with the ability to invest their interpretations with a rhythmic charm that they seem to fairly invigorate their audiences with the spirit of motion. i cannot conceive of a really great artist without this sense of rhythm. the composer's inspiration "personally i believe in 'pure music,' that is music in the field of pianoforte composition that is sufficient unto itself and which does not require any of the other arts to enhance its beauty. however, in the cases of some of our modern composers who have professedly drawn their musical inspiration from tales, great pictures or from nature, i can see the desirability of investigating these sources in order to come closer to the composer's idea. some of the works of debussy demand this. let me play you his '_night in granada_,' for instance. the work is most subtle and requires an appreciation of oriental life, and is indeed a kind of tonal dream picture of the old fortified palace of moorish spain. i feel that in cases of this kind it helps the performer to have in mind the composer's conception and in playing this piece in public i always follow this plan. studying the phrasing "each phrase in a piece requires separate study. i believe that the student should leave nothing undone to learn how to phrase or rather to analyze a piece so that all its constituent phrases become clear to him. each phrase must be studied with the same deference to detail that the singer would give to an individual phrase. this is by no means an easy matter. more important still is the interrelation of phrases. every note in a work of musical art bears a certain relation to every other note. so it is with the phrases. each phrase must be played with reference to the work as a whole or more particularly to the movement of which it is a part. marking the fingering "it seems hardly necessary to say anything about the fingering when so much attention is being given to the matter by the best teachers of the country, but certainly one of the most essential considerations in the study of a new piece is the study of the fingering. a detailed study of this should be made and it should be clearly understood that the fingering should be adapted to fit the hand of the player. it is by no means necessary to accept the fingering given in the book as 'gospel.' the wise student will try many fingerings before deciding upon the one that suits him best. students who go to these pains are the ones who invariably succeed. those who take anything that is presented to them without considering its advisability rarely attain lofty musical heights. "when a fingering has once been determined upon it should never be changed. to change a fingering frequently means to waste many hours of practice. this may be considered a mechanical method but it is the method invariably employed by successful artists. why? simply because one fingering closely adhered to establishes finger habits which give freedom and certainty and permits the player to give more consideration to the other details of artistic interpretation. "i ofttimes find it expedient to adapt a more difficult fingering of some given passage for the reason that the difficult fingering frequently leads to a better interpretation of the composer's meaning. i know of innumerable passages in the piano classics which illustrate this point. moreover a fingering that seems difficult at first is often more simple than the conventional or arbitrary fingering employed by the student, after the student has given sufficient time to the new fingering. the required accent often obliges the performer to employ a different fingering. the stronger fingers are naturally better adapted to the stronger accents. otherwise it is best to use a similar fingering for similar passages. memorizing "i should like to add a few words with regard to committing pieces to memory. there are three ways. 1, by sight; that is, seeing the notes in your mind's eye; 2, memorizing by 'ear,' the way which comes to one most naturally; 3, memorizing by the fingers, that is training the fingers to do their duty no matter what happens. before performing in public the student should have memorized the composition in all of these ways. only thus can he be absolutely sure of himself. if one way fails him the other method comes to his rescue. "after careful attention has been given to the various points of which i have spoken and the details of the composition satisfactorily worked out the student should practice with a view to learning the piece as a whole. nothing is so distressing to the musician as a piece which does not seem to have coherence and unity. it should be regarded aurally as the artist regards his work visually. the painter stands off at some distance to look at his work in order to see whether all parts of his painting harmonize. the pianist must do much the same thing. he must listen to his work time and time again and if it does not seem to 'hang together' he must unify all the parts until he can give a real interpretation instead of a collection of disjointed sections. this demands grasp, insight and talent, three qualifications without which the pianist cannot hope for large success." questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xviii ernest schelling 1. what should be the preliminary study of a new composition? 2. how should the mechanical difficulties of the piece be studied? 3. how may one find the bearing of one movement upon another? 4. state the importance of deciding upon the appropriate touch. 5. how may the right tempo be established? 6. what did chopin call the left hand? 7. what is it in playing that sways the audience? 8. how should the fingering of a new piece be studied? 9. why is a more difficult fingering sometimes preferable? 10. give a practical plan for memorizing. sigismund stojowski biographical sigismund stojowski was born at strelce, poland, may 2, 1870. he studied piano with l. zelenski at cracow and with diémer at the paris conservatoire. at the same institution he studied composition with léo delibes. his talent both as a composer and as a pianist was considered extraordinary at that time and he was successful in carrying off two first prizes, one for piano and one for composition (1889). at that time stojowski's great fellow countryman, paderewski, assumed the educational supervision of his career and became his teacher in person. stojowski's orchestral compositions attracted wide attention in paris and he met with pronounced success as a virtuoso. mr. stojowski came to america in 1906 and he entered immediately into the musical life of the country, taking foremost rank as a composer, pianist and teacher. aside from his musical talent he is a remarkable linguist and speaks many languages fluently. his articles written in english, for instance, are unusually graphic and expressive. once when complimented upon his linguistic ability he remarked "we poles are given the credit of being natural linguists because we take the trouble to learn many languages thoroughly in our youth." in 1913 mr. stojowski made a highly successful tour abroad, his compositions meeting with wide favor. [illustration: s. stojowski] xxi what interpretation really is sigismund stojowski the composer's limitations in his means of expression it is difficult for some people who are not versed in the intricate mysteries of the art of music to realize how limited are the means afforded the composer for communicating to the interpreter some slight indication of the ideal he had in mind when writing the composition. it may be said that, while every great composer feels almost god-like at the moment of creation, the merest fraction of the myriad beauties he has in mind ever reach human ears. the very signs with which the composer is provided to help him put his thoughts down on paper are in themselves inadequate to serve as a means of recording more than a shadow of his masterpiece as it was originally conceived. of course, we are speaking now in a large sense--we are imagining that the composer is a beethoven with an immortal message to convey to posterity. of all composers, beethoven was perhaps the one to employ the most perfect means of expression. his works represent a completeness, a poise and a masterly finish which will serve as a model for all time to come. it must also be noted that few composers have employed more accurate marks of expression--such as time marks, dynamic marks, etc. in all these things beethoven was obliged to adhere to the conventions adopted by others for this purpose of attempting to make the composer's meaning clearer to other minds. these conventions, like all conventions, are partly insufficient to convey the full idea of the composer, and partly arbitrary, in that they do not give the interpreter adequate latitude to introduce his own ideas in expression. the student should seek to break the veil of conventions provided by notation and seek a clearer insight into the composer's individuality as expressed in his compositions. from this point of view the so-called subjective interpretation seems the only legitimate one. in fact, the ones who pretend to be objective in the sense of being literal and playing strictly according to the marks of expression and admitting little elasticity in the interpretation of these are also, as rubinstein pointed out, subjective at heart. this may be more concisely expressed thus: since all things of permanent value in music have proceeded from a fervid artistic imagination, they should be interpreted with the continual employment of the performer's imagination. on the other hand, the subjective method, right as it is in principle, can become, of course, according to the italian saying, _traduttore, traditore_--that is, an absolute treachery to the composer's ideal, if the performer's understanding and execution of the composition is not based upon long and careful investigation of all the fundamental laws and associated branches of musical study, which are designed to give him a basis for forming his own opinions upon the best method of interpreting the composition. inadequate training in this respect is the chinese wall which surrounds the composer's hidden meaning. this wall must be torn down, brick by brick, stone by stone, in a manner which we would call "analytical practice." it is the only way in which the student may gain entrance to the sacred city of the elect, to whom the ideal of the composer has been revealed. the interpreter must coöperate with the composer in a certain sense the interpreter is a coöperator with the composer, or, more definitely expressed, he is the "continuer" along the line of the musical thought and its adequate expression. music, of all arts, is the unfinished art. when a great painting is completed, time, and time only, will make the changes in its surface. when the great masterpieces left the brushes of raphael, rubens, holbein, correggio or van dyck they were finished works of art. when bach, beethoven, chopin, and brahms put their thoughts down upon paper they left a record in ink and paper which must be born again every time it is brought to the minds of men. this rebirth is the very essence of all that is best in interpretative skill. new life goes into the composition at the very moment it passes through the soul of the master performer. it is here that he should realize the great truth that in music, more than in any other art, "the letter kills and the spirit vivifies." the interpreter must master the "letter" and seek to give "rebirth" to the spirit. if he can do this he will attain the greatest in interpretative ability. from the literal or objective standpoint, then, an insight is gained into the nature of the composer's masterpiece,--by close and careful study of the work itself, by gaining a knowledge of the musical laws underlying the structure and composition of a work of its kind as well as the necessary keyboard technic to give expression to the work,--but the veil is torn from the composer's hidden meaning, only becoming intimate with his creative personality as a master, by studying his life environments, by investigating the historical background of the period in which he worked, by learning of his joys and his sufferings, by cultivating a deep and heartfelt sympathy for his ideals and by the scrupulous and constant revision of one's own ideals and conceptions of the standards by which his masterpieces should be judged. studying the historical background to exemplify what i mean, i could, for instance, refer to paderewski's interpretations of liszt and chopin. during the time i was associated with the master pianist as a pupil i had abundant opportunities to make notes upon the very individual, as well as the highly artistically differentiated expressions of his musical judgment. it was interesting to observe that he played the rhapsodies with various extensions and modifications, the result of which is the glorification of liszt's own spirit. on the contrary, in order to preserve chopin's spirit, the master would always repudiate any changes, like those of tausig, for instance, by which some virtuosos pretend to "emphasize" or "modernize" chopin's personal and perfect pianism. differences in treatment are the outcome of deep insight as well as the study of the time and conditions under which the work was produced. the study of musical history reveals many very significant things which have a direct bearing not only upon the interpretation of the performer, but upon the degree of appreciation with which the listener is able to enjoy a musical work. it was for this reason that i prefaced the first two recitals of my course of historical recitals given at mendelssohn hall, new york, during the past season, with a lecture upon the historical conditions which surrounded the masters at the time the compositions were composed. the inadequacy of musical signs i have already referred to the inadequacy of musical signs. even the mechanical guide, the metronome, is not always to be depended upon to give the exact tempo the composer had in mind. let me cite a little instance from the biography of ries, the friend of beethoven. ries was preparing to conduct a performance of the beethoven ninth symphony. he requested beethoven to make notes upon paper regarding the metronomic marks of speed at which the composition should be played. the metronome at that time was a comparatively new instrument. maelzel, its inventor (or, rather, its improver, since the principle of the metronome was of dutch origin), was a friend of beethoven. at times they were on the best of terms, and at other times they were literally "at swords' points." nevertheless, maelzel, who had a strong personality, succeeded in inducing beethoven to put metronomic markings upon several of his compositions. naturally, the metronome was immediately accorded an important place in the musical world even at that day. ries was consequently very anxious to give the choral symphony according to beethoven's own ideas. beethoven had complied with the publisher's desire and sent a slip of paper with the tempi marked metronomically. this slip was lost. ries wrote to beethoven for a duplicate. beethoven sent another. later the lost slip was found, and, upon comparing it with the second slip, it was found that beethoven had made an entirely different estimate of the tempi at which he desired the symphony to be played. even with the most elaborate and complete marks of expression, such as those, for instance, employed by beethoven and by wagner, the composer is confronted with his great poverty of resources to present his views to the mind of the interpreter. extensive as some of the modern dictionaries of musical terminology seem to be, they are wholly inadequate from the standpoint of a complete vocabulary to give full expression to the artist's imagination. it also gives full scope to an infinite variety of error in the matter of the shades or degrees of dynamic force at which the conventional marks may be rendered. one might venture to remark that composers are the most keen, most conscious judges of their own works, or, rather, of the garments which fit them best. there is in all composition a divine part and also a conscious part. the divine part is the inspiration. the conscious part has to do with dressing the inspiration in its most appropriate harmonic, polyphonic, and rhythmic garments. these garments are the raiment in which the inspiration will be viewed by future generations. it is often by these garments that they will be judged. if the garments are awkward, inappropriate and ill-fitting, a beautiful interpretation of the composer's ideal will be impossible. nevertheless, it is the performer's duty in each case to try to see through even unbecoming garments and divine the composer's thought, according to the interpreter's best understanding. learning the musical language where interpretation is concerned, one is too often inclined to forget that while there is a higher part, the secrets of which are accessible only to the elect, there is also an elementary part which involves the knowledge of musical grammar, and beyond that the correct feeling of musical declamation--since music, after all, is a language which is at all times perfectly teachable, and which should be most carefully and systematically taught. i consider the book of mathis lussy, _rhythm and musical expression_, of great value to the student in search of truths pertaining to intelligent interpretation. lussy was a swiss who was born in the early part of the last century. he went to paris to study medicine, but, having had a musical training in the country of his birth, he became a good pianoforte teacher and an excellent writer upon musical subjects. while teaching in a young ladies' school, he was confronted with the great paucity of real knowledge of the rudiments of expression, and he accordingly prepared a book upon the subject which has since been translated into several languages. this book is most helpful, and i advocate its use frequently. it should be in the hands of every conscientious piano student. mistakes peculiar to the pianoforte player the nature of the keyboard of the piano, and the ease with which certain things are accomplished, make it possible for the performer to make certain errors which the construction of other instruments would prevent. the pianist is, for instance, entirely unlike the violinist, who has to locate his keyboard every time he takes up his instrument, and, moreover, locate it by a highly trained sense of position. in a certain way i sometimes feel somewhat ashamed for the pianist profession when i hear players, even those with manifest technical proficiency, commit flagrant mistakes against elementary rules of accentuation and phrasing, such as, for instance, an average violinist acquainted with good bowing is accordingly prevented from making upon his instrument. the means of discovering the composer's hidden meaning are, in fact, so numerous that the conscientious interpreter must keep upon continuous voyages of exploration. there are many easily recognizable paths leading to the promised land--one is the path of harmony, without an understanding of which the would-be performer can never reach his goal; another is musical history; others are the studies of phrasing, rhythm, accentuation, pedaling, etc., etc., _ad infinitum_. to fail to traverse any one of these roads will result in endless exasperation. find your guide, press on without thinking of failure, and the way to success may be found before you know it. questions in style, interpretation, expression and technic of pianoforte playing series xix sigismund stojowski 1. what composer preserved the most perfect balance between artistic conception and expression? 2. how may the student break the veil of conventions? 3. what fundamental laws should underlie interpretation? 4. how may master works be born again? 5. is one ever warranted in altering a masterpiece? 6. tell of beethoven's attitude toward the metronome. 7. how may errors arise in the use of the terms of expression? 8. how may one be helped in learning the musical language? 9. state some mistakes peculiar to the pianoforte. 10. what voyages of exploration must the student make? +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | page 8: torquamada _sic_ | | page 153: subtilities _sic_ | | page 159: regretable amended to regrettable | | page 187: dumfounded _sic_ | | page 251: "polish prussia" amended to "polish prussia" | | page 257: klaverspiels amended to klavierspiels | | page 262: pedagogs _sic_ | | | | hyphenation has generally been standardized. however, when | | a word appears hyphenated and unhyphenated an equal number | | of times, both versions have been retained | | (offhand/off-hand). | | | | "etude/étude" and "etude/étude" are used interchangeably. | | this has been retained. | | | | discrepancies between the table of contents and individual | | chapter headings have been retained. page references have | | been corrected. | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ 