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.