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.