perfect _rubato_ must be the result of momentary impulse. It is,
however, only a few very eminent players that have such command over
this means of expression as to feel safe in trusting their momentary
impulses altogether. The average player will do well carefully to
consider the shifting of time values and to prepare their execution to a
certain degree. This should not, however, be carried too far, as it
would impair the naturalness of expression and lead to a stereotyped
mannerism.
[Sidenote: _The Difference Between Conception and Rubato_]
Is there any difference between conception and _rubato?_
Conception is a generic term and comprises the service of each and all
means of expression, among which _rubato_ plays a somewhat prominent
part. For it is, so to speak, the musical pulse-beat of the player.
Being subordinate to conception, its function and manner must be
governed by the latter.
CONCEPTION
[Sidenote: _Different Conceptions May be Individually Correct_]
Can one and the same phrase be conceived differently by different
artists and still be individually correct in each instance?
Certainly! Provided that--whatever the conception be--it preserves the
logical relations of the parts in building up the phrase, and that it is
carried through the whole course of the piece in a consistent manner.
Whether a certain conception of a phrase is or is not compatible with
the general character of the piece and how far the freedom of conception
may extend, it will be for the aesthetic training and the good taste of
the player to determine for each and every case separately.
[Sidenote: _Which Should Come First--Conception or Technique?_]
In the first attempts at a new piece must matters of conception be
observed at once or only after the piece has been technically mastered?
Unless one is a very experienced reader it will be hardly possible to
think of matters of conception until the technical means to express them
and the necessary perspective of the piece have been gained. It is
always safer first to make sure that the notes as such, and their
respective times value have been read correctly, and that the technical
difficulties have, to a fair degree, been overcome. This done, the
question must be settled as to whether the general character of the
piece is dramatic, _i. e._, tragic or conciliatory, melancholy, lyric,
rhapsodic, humorous, or changeable, and so forth. Only when our mind on
this point is made up with the utmost definiteness, can we approach the
details that are conditioned by the conception.
FORCE OF EXAMPLE
[Sidenote: _Hearing a Piece Before Studying It_]
Should a pupil hear a piece played before studying it?
If the pupil's imagination needs stimulation he should hear the piece
well played before studying it. If, however, he is merely too lazy to
find out the rhythm, melody, and so forth, and rather relies upon his
purely imitative faculty, he should not hear it, but be compelled to do
his own reading and thinking.
THEORY
[Sidenote: _Why the Pianist Should Study Harmony_]
Do you recommend the study of harmony and counterpoint to the piano
student?
By all means! To gain a musical insight into the pieces you play you
must be able to follow the course of their harmonies and understand the
contrapuntal treatment of their themes. Without the knowledge gained
through a serious study of harmony and counter-point your conceptions
will be pure guesswork and will lack in outline and definiteness.
[Sidenote: _Why so Many Different Keys?_]
Why is it supposed to be necessary to have fifteen keys to complete the
circle of fifths? Why would not twelve suffice, and thus avoid duplicate
keys?
Not fifteen, but twenty-five tonalities complete the circle of fifths,
theoretically, and they are all necessary because of the many harmonic
turns that occur in modern music and which could not be intelligently
demonstrated unless we use the tonalities with seven, eight, nine or
more sharps and flats. For otherwise we might have to change the
signature so frequently as to become utterly confusing to even the most
musicianly reader. C-sharp minor has but four sharps, yet the scale of
its dominant (its next relative) has eight sharps.
[Sidenote: _The Relation of Harmony to Piano-Playing_]
Is it absolutely necessary for me to study harmony in connection with my
piano? My teacher wants me to do it, but I don't see the use! Of what
benefit is harmony?
Of what benefit is the general school-work a child has to go through? To
play the piano well a good hand and so many hours of practice are not
sufficient; it requires a general musical education. This means, first
and foremost, a knowledge of harmony, to which you may later add the
study of counterpoint and forms. Your teacher is absolutely right.
[Sidenote: _Text-Books on Harmony_]
Would you care to recommend two or three of the best books on the study
of harmony?
The doctrine of harmony is ever the same, but the modes of teaching it
are constantly changing and, I trust, improving. For this reason I feel
a certain hesitation in recommending at this time the text-books which I
studied many years ago, especially as I am not certain that they have
been translated into English. I advise you, therefore, to inquire of
some good teacher of harmony or, at least, of a reliable music publisher
or dealer. E. F. Richter and Buessler wrote works of recognized merit,
which, though no longer modern, may be safely studied.
[Sidenote: _Learning to Modulate_]
Is it possible to learn modulating from a book without the aid of a
teacher, so as to connect two pieces of different tonality?
Possible, yes, but not probable; for since in your written exercises you
are likely to err at times, you will need some one to point out your
errors and so show you the way to correct them. Generally speaking, I do
not think much of studying the rudiments of anything without the aid of
an experienced adviser.
[Sidenote: _Studying Counterpoint by One's Self_]
Is it possible to study counterpoint without a teacher, and, if so, what
book can you recommend for its study?
It is quite possible, provided you are certain never to misunderstand
your text-book and never to commit any errors. Otherwise you will need
the advice of an experienced musician in correcting them. A good
teacher, however, is always better than a book for this study. Of
text-books there are a great many. Any reliable music house will furnish
you with a list of them.
[Sidenote: _Should Piano Students Try to Compose?_]
Besides my study of the piano shall I try to compose if I feel the
inclination and believe I have some talent for it?
The practice of constructing will always facilitate your work of
reconstructing, which is, practically, what the rendition of a musical
work means. Hence, I advise every one who feels able to construct even a
modest little piece to try his hand at it. Of course, if you can write
only a two-step it will not enable you to reconstruct a Beethoven
Sonata; still, there may be little places in the Sonata that will clear
up in your mind more quickly when you have come in touch with the
technical act of putting down on paper what your mind has created, and
you will altogether lose the attitude of the absolute stranger when
facing a new composition. Do not construe this, however, as an
encouragement to write two-steps!
[Sidenote: _The Student Who Wants to Compose_]
Please advise me as to the best way of learning composition. Which is
the best work of that kind from which I could learn?
First learn to write notes. Copying all sorts of music is the best
practice for that. Then study the doctrine of harmony. Follow it up by a
study of the various forms of counterpoint. Proceed to canon in its many
kinds and intervals. Take up the fugue. Then study forms until you learn
to feel them. Books for every one of these stages there are many, but
better than all the books is a good teacher.
[Sidenote: _The Difference Between Major and Minor Scales_]
What is the difference between the major and minor scale? Does it lie in
the arrangement of semitones or in the character, or in both?
There are three differences: First, in the arrangement of the semitones;
second, in the character; and, third, in the circumstance that the minor
scale admits of a number of modifications for melodic purposes which
cannot be made in the major scale.
[Sidenote: _There is Only One Minor Scale_]
Which is the true minor scale, the melodic or the harmonic? My teacher
insists upon the harmonic, but it sounds ugly to me. Will you please
tell me something about it?
There is but one minor scale; it is the one upon which the chords of its
tonality are built; it is the one upon which your teacher wisely
insists, because the so-called melodic minor scale offers no new
intervals to your fingers, and because the term melodic minor scale is
applied to that form of deviation from the real scale which is most
frequently used, but which is by no means the only deviation that is
possible; nor is it the only one in use.
[Sidenote: _What is the Difference Between the Major and Minor Scales?_]
What is the difference between the major and minor scales?
The major scale has a major third and sixth, while the minor scale has a
minor third and sixth and raises its seventh to a major seventh by an
accidental elevating sign, raising a natural note by a sharp, and a flat
note by a natural. If you begin your major scale upon its sixth degree
and, counting it as the first of the minor, raise the seventh, you
obtain the minor scale, in which, however, many modifications are
admissible for melodic (though not for harmonic) purposes.
[Sidenote: _How Waltz, Menuet, Mazurka, and Polonaise Differ_]
As a waltz and a menuet are both in three-fourth time, is it only the
tempo in which they differ, or are there other differences?
Waltz, menuet, mazurka, and polonaise are all in three-fourth time and
are not confined to a definite tempo. The difference between them lies
in the structure. A waltz period--that is, the full expression of a
theme--needs sixteen measures; a menuet needs only eight, a mazurka only
four measures. In a mazurka a motive occupies only one measure, in the
menuet two, and in the waltz four. The polonaise subdivides its quarters
into eighths, and the second eighth usually into two sixteenths; it
differs, therefore, from the other three dances by its rhythm.
[Sidenote: _The Meaning of "Toccata"_]
What is the meaning of the word "Toccata"? I do not find it in the
Italian lexicon and the English musical dictionaries differ widely in
their definitions. None of their definitions seems to apply to the
Toccata by Chaminade.
To make the matter quite plain let me say, first, that "Cantata" (from
_cantare_--to sing) meant in olden times a music piece to be sung; while
"Sonata" (from _suonare_--to play) designated a piece to be played on an
instrument; and "Toccato" meant a piece for keyboard instruments like
the organ or piano and its precursors, written with the intention of
providing special opportunities for the display of the skill of touch
(from _toccare_--to touch) or, as we would now say, finger technique.
The original meanings have changed so that these terms now imply
definite forms, like the modern Cantata and Sonata. The Toccata is, at
present, understood to be a piece in constant and regular motion, very
much like those that are called "_moto perpetuo_" or "perpetual motion,"
of which Weber's "Perpetuum mobile" is a good example. I have no doubt
that the Toccata by Chaminade, which I do not know, is written on
similar lines.
THE MEMORY
[Sidenote: _Playing from Memory Is Indispensable_]
Is memorization absolutely essential to a good player?
Playing from memory is indispensable to the freedom of rendition. You
have to bear in your mind and memory the whole piece in order to attend
properly to its details. Some renowned players who take the printed
sheets before them on the stage play, nevertheless, from memory. They
take the music with them only to heighten their feeling of security and
to counteract a lack of confidence in their memory--a species of
nervousness.
[Sidenote: _The Easiest Way to Memorize_]
Will you please tell me which is the easiest way to memorize a piano
piece?
Begin by playing it a few times very carefully and slowly until you can
play it with a fair degree of exactitude (you need not mind an
occasional stopping). Then go over such places as appeared to you
especially complex until you understand their construction. Now let the
piece rest for a whole day and try to trace in your mind the train of
thoughts in the piece. Should you come to a dead stop be satisfied with
what you have achieved. Your mind will keep on working, subconsciously,
as over a puzzle, always trying to find the continuation. If you find
that the memory is a blank take the music in hand, look at the
particular place--but only at this--and, since you have now found the
connection, continue the work of mental tracing. At the next stop repeat
this procedure until you have reached the end, not in every detail, but
in large outlines. Of course, this does not mean that you can now _play_
it from memory. You have only arrived at the point of transition from
the imagined to the real, and now begins a new kind of study: to
transfer to the instrument what you have mentally absorbed. Try to do
this piece by piece, and look into the printed sheets (which should not
be on the music-rack but away from it) only when your memory absolutely
refuses to go on. The real work with the printed music should be
reserved to the last, and you should regard it in the light of a
proof-reading of your mental impressions. The whole process of absorbing
a piece of music mentally resembles that of photographing. The
development of the acoustic picture (the tone-picture) is like the bath.
The tentative playing is like the process of "fixing" against
sensitiveness to lights; and the final work with the printed music is
the retouching.
[Sidenote: _In Order to Memorize Easily_]
I find it very hard to memorize my music. Can you suggest any method
that would make it easier?
To retain in one's memory what does not interest one is difficult to
everybody, while that which does interest us comes easy. In your case
the first requirement seems to be that your interest in the pieces you
are to play be awakened. This interest usually comes with a deeper
understanding of music; hence, it may be said that nothing will assist a
naturally reluctant memory so much as a general musical education.
Special studies for the memory have not come to my knowledge because I
never had any need of them. After all, the best way to memorize is--to
memorize. One phrase to-day, another to-morrow, and so on, until the
memory grows by its own force through being exercised.
[Sidenote: _Memorizing Quickly and Forgetting as Readily_]
I memorize very easily, so that I can often play my pieces from memory
before I have fully mastered their technical difficulties, as my
teacher says. But I forget them just as quickly, so that in a few weeks
I cannot remember enough of them to play them clear through. What would
you advise, to make my memory more retentive?
There are two fundamental types of memory: One is very mobile--it
acquires quickly and loses just as quickly; the other is more cumbrous
in its action--it acquires slowly, but retains forever. A combination of
the two is very rare, indeed; I never heard of such a case. A remedy
against forgetting you will find in refreshing your memory in regular
periods, playing your memorized pieces over (carefully) every four or
five days. Other remedies I know not and I see no necessity for them.
[Sidenote: _To Keep Errors from Creeping in_]
I can always memorize a piece before I can play it fast. Do you advise
practising with notes when I already know it by heart?
The occasional playing of a memorized piece from the notes will keep
errors from creeping in, provided you read the music correctly and
carefully.
SIGHT READING
[Sidenote: _The Best Way to Improve Sight-Reading_]
Is there any practical method that will assist one to greater rapidity
in sight-reading?
The best way to become a quick reader is to read as much as possible.
The rapidity of your progress depends upon the state of your general
musical education, for the more complete this is the better you will be
able to surmise the logical sequel of a phrase once started. A large
part of sight-reading consists of surmising, as you will find upon
analyzing your book-reading.
[Sidenote: _To Gain Facility in Sight-Reading_]
What is a good plan to pursue to improve the facility in sight-reading?
Much reading and playing at sight and as fast as possible, even though
at first some slight inaccuracies may creep in. By quick reading you
develop that faculty of the eye which is meant by "grasp," and this, in
turn, facilitates your reading of details.
ACCOMPANYING
[Sidenote: _Learning To Accompany at Sight_]
How can one learn to accompany at sight?
Develop your sight-reading by playing many accompaniments, and
endeavour--while playing your part--also to read and inwardly hear the
solo part.
[Sidenote: _The Art of Accompanying a Soloist_]
How should one manage the accompaniment for a soloist inclined to play
rubato?
Since you cannot make a contract of artistically binding force with a
soloist you must take refuge in "following." But do not take this word
in its literal meaning; rather endeavour to divine the intentions of
your soloist from moment to moment, for this divining is the soul of
accompanying. To be, in this sense, a good accompanist, one must have
what is called in musical slang a good "nose"--that is, one must
musically "scent" whither the soloist is going. But, then, the nose is
one of the things we are born with. We may develop it, as to its
sensitiveness, but we cannot acquire a nose by learning. Experience will
do much in these premises, but not everything.
[Sidenote: _Learning the Art of Accompanying_]
Wishing to become an accompanist I anticipate completing my studies in
Berlin. What salary might I expect and what would be the best "course"
to pursue?
An experienced and very clever accompanist may possibly earn as much as
fifty dollars a week if associated with a vocal, violin, or 'cello
artist of great renown. Usually, however, accompanists are expected to
be able to play solos. There are no special schools for accompanists,
though there may be possibly some special courses in which experience
may be fostered. If you come to Berlin you will find it easy to find
what you seem to be seeking.
TRANSPOSING
[Sidenote: _The Problem of Transposing at Sight_]
What, please, is the quickest and safest way of transposing from one key
to another? I have trouble, for instance, in playing for singing if the
piece is in A major and the singer wants it in F major.
The question of transposing hinges on the process of hearing through the
eye. I mean by this that you must study the piece until you learn to
conceive the printed music as sounds and sound groups, not as key
pictures. Then transfer the sound picture to another tonality in your
mind, very much as if when moving from one floor to another with all
your household goods you were to place them on the new floor as they
were placed on the old. Practice will, of course, facilitate this
process very much. Transposition at sight is based on somewhat different
principles. Here you have to get mentally settled in the new tonality,
and then follow the course of intervals. If you find transposition
difficult you may derive consolation from the thought that it is
difficult for everybody, and that transposing at sight is, of course,
still more difficult than to transpose after studying the piece
beforehand.
PLAYING FOR PEOPLE
[Sidenote: _When to "Play For People"_]
During the period of serious study may I play for people (friends or
strangers) or should I keep entirely away from the outside world?
From time to time you may play for people the pieces you have mastered,
but take good care to go over them afterward--the difficult places
slowly--in order to eliminate any slight errors or unevenness that may
have crept in. To play for people is not only a good incentive for
further aspirations; it also furnishes you with a fairly exact estimate
of your abilities and shortcomings, and indicates thereby the road to
improvement. To retire from the outside world during the period of study
is an outlived, obsolete idea which probably originated in the endeavour
to curb the vanity of such students as would neglect their studies in
hunting, prematurely, for applause. I recommend playing for people
moderately and on the condition that for every such "performance" of a
piece you play it afterward twice, slowly and carefully, at home. This
will keep the piece intact and bring you many other unexpected
advantages.
[Sidenote: "_Afraid to Play Before People_"]
I can never do myself justice when playing for people, because of my
nervousness. How can I overcome it?
If you are absolutely certain that your trouble is due to "nervousness"
you should improve the condition of your nerves by proper exercise
in the open air and by consulting your physician. But are you
quite sure that your "nervousness" is not merely another name for
self-consciousness, or, worse yet, for a "bad conscience" on the score
of technical security? In the latter case you ought to perfect your
technique, while in the former you must learn to discard all thought of
your dear self, as well as of your hearers in relation to you, and
concentrate your thinking upon the work you are to do. This you can well
achieve by will-power and persistent self-training.
[Sidenote: _Effect of Playing the Same Piece Often_]
I have heard artists play the same piece year after year, and each time
as expressively as before. After a piece has been played several hundred
times it can hardly produce on the player the same emotional effect that
it originally did. Is it possible for a player by his art and technical
resources so to colour his tones that he can stimulate and produce in
his audience an emotional condition which he himself does not at the
time feel?
In music emotion can be conveyed only through the means and modes of
expression that are peculiar to music, such as dynamic changes,
vacillations of tempo, differences of touch and kindred devices. When a
piece is played in public very often on consecutive occasions--which
artists avoid as much as they can--these expressions gradually assume a
distinct form which is quite capable of preservation. Though it will in
time lose its life-breath, it can still produce a deception just as (to
draw a drastic parallel) a dead person may look as if he were only
asleep. In this parallel the artist has, however, one great advantage.
Since he cannot play a piece very often without having a number of
errors, rearrangements, slight changes creeping into it, he must, in
order to eliminate them and to cleanse the piece, return from time to
time to slow practice in which he also refrains almost entirely from
expression. When in the next public performance the right tempo and
expression are added again they tend strongly to renew the freshness of
the piece in the player's mind.
[Sidenote: _The Pianist Who Fails to Express Herself_]
I love music dearly and my teacher is always satisfied with my lessons,
but when I play for my friends I never make a success. They compliment
me, but I feel that they do not care for my playing; even my mother says
that my playing is "mechanical." How can I change it?