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.