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.