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."