Transcriber’s Notes:
Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_
in the original text.
Equal signs “=” before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold=
in the original text.
Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals.
Illustrations have been moved so they do not break up paragraphs.
Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved.
Typographical and punctuation errors have been silently corrected.
The Technic
of the
Baton
A Handbook for Students
of Conducting
_by_
Albert Stoessel
With a Preface by
Walter Damrosch
Copyright, 1920, by
CARL FISCHER, Inc., NEW YORK
International Copyright Secured
Copyright, 1928, by
CARL FISCHER, Inc., NEW YORK
International Copyright Secured
CARL FISCHER, INC.
COOPER SQUARE, NEW YORK 3
Boston · Chicago · Dallas · Los Angeles
PREFACE
Conducting is an art, and a difficult one to master.
It requires a special talent, enthusiasm, great nervous vitality;
a serious study of the works written by the masters of music; the
magnetic power of forcing the executants to carry out the conductor’s
demands; infinite patience, great tenacity, great self-control, and
absolute knowledge of the technique of the baton.
The last is a complete sign language through and by which the conductor
issues his commands and achieves his results.
With the baton and an infinite variety of movements of hand, wrist and
arm, the conductor indicates the tempo and its changes, the dynamics,
the expression, and in fact all the inner spirit and meaning of the
music.
He insures precision and unanimity whether his executants number one
hundred or one thousand, and plays upon them as the pianist upon his
keyboard or the violinist upon the strings of his Cremona.
Much of this must be inborn, but much can be acquired by study. Mr.
Albert Stoessel’s book will be of great help to the earnest student.
Mr. Stoessel was appointed teacher of conducting in the Bandmasters’
School, which I founded during the war at General Pershing’s request at
G. H. Q., Chaumont, France.
His book is admirably planned and executed. It is clear, practical
and stimulating, and I hope it will be generally used throughout the
country.
The lack of routine and the ignorance of even the simplest rudiments of
the art of “beating time” is appalling among many of our conductors,
organists and choir-masters. Mr. Stoessel’s book should be of great
help to them.
(Signed) WALTER DAMROSCH.
_July 4th, 1920_
CHAPTER I
A BRIEF OUTLINE OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONDUCTING
“Conducting is the art of directing the simultaneous performance of
several players or singers by the use of gesture.” It is thus that
Ralph Vaughan-Williams heads his illuminating article on conducting,
written for Grove’s Dictionary, and while this rather terse definition
is an admirable summing up of the meaning of conducting, it needs to be
qualified.
In music the conductor is one, who after assimilating in his own
consciousness every phase of a musical composition, becomes the supreme
arbiter in the process of bringing that composition into actual being.
Music as an art is absolutely dependent on the interpreter. It lives
only in the performance, and the interpreter, sensing his importance,
is often tempted to place his own personality between the audience
and the music itself. It would seem, however, that in ensemble music,
(music requiring several or more performers) this opportunity for the
glorification of the personality of the virtuoso would be present in
a far less degree. And yet, the interpretation by the conductor of
the score of such a piece demands a degree of virtuosity transcending
by far that which is required in the performance of an ordinary solo
composition.
It is the conductor who unlocks the mysteries of the score. Like water
that will always rise to its own level, it may safely be said that the
actual performance of an orchestral or choral work will only rise to
the level of the conductor’s intellectual and spiritual conception. A
good conductor can get good results from players of lesser ability,
while a poor conductor can throw the finest orchestra into confusion.
Granted that the conductor has a clear and matured mental conception of
a musical work, there is still a vast distance between this conception
and its final perception by the listener. An enumeration of these
obstacles and a description of their overcoming will constitute a
complete outline of what the art of conducting is.
A conductor with a definite conception of the musical score in his head
is not unlike the commander of an army who has worked out a complete
plan of action. Each has to carefully consider the limitation of his
forces and equipment, and how best to achieve the objective. Each is
working through others and in so doing must make due allowance for
the uncertainties of human nature, the capacity and character of each
individual as well as that intangible something known as “esprit de
corps.” Ceaseless drilling is necessary to achieve that mechanical
perfection which forms the foundation of later inspirational and
artistic performance.
A survey of the history of conducting will show that the art has
evolved through three distinct periods which might be called the
“time-beater,” “drill-master” and “conductor” phases. The preparation
and performance of any musical score requires the assuming of all three
of these roles by the conductor.
The activity of conducting is doubtless as old as music itself and
was probably always employed whenever the musical performance called
for several or more participants. The ancient Greeks indulged in two
styles of conducting: the conductor indicating the beat by stamping his
iron-soled foot or by resorting to what is known as “Chironomy.” This
latter was a system of indicating the progress of a musical composition
by arm, hand, and finger motions, a definite movement corresponding to
every rise and fall of the melody. It was from chironomy, in connection
with various speech accents that the notation system of neumes
developed.
An interesting feature of this early conducting is the fact that all
down beats (accented) were indicated by up strokes of the hand and the
up beats (unaccented) vice versa, with downward movements. This is just
the opposite to modern practice.
This manner of conducting was probably in vogue in the early Gregorian
singing schools, and even a superficial perusal of the Gregorian chants
will indicate the intricate rhythmical character of the music taught
and sung in these establishments. These early chants, not unlike
our modern operatic recitative, had no regular rhythmic scheme and
the singing was a sort of musical prose. The singing was lead by a
precentor. It was he who gave the pitch and lead with “voice and hand,”
that is, he gave the chironomic signs and helped the singers over the
rough spots by singing along. The church, however, also knew strict
rhythmical hymns and there the leader stamped the beat audibly.
With the advent of polyphony the duties of the conductor increased. He
often found it necessary to lead both visibly and audibly. Mendelssohn
in a letter to his teacher, Zelter, gives a description of this
manifold activity on the part of the conductor, indicating that it
persisted even to the rather late date of 1830. Describing the papal
choir in Rome, he writes:
“There is a chorus of priests (clericals) who sing only in the presence
of the Pope or his representative. It numbers thirty-two regular
members but they are seldom all present. The director personally sings
with them, helping each part, sometimes singing the deepest bass and
again jumping with astounding agility to the highest falsetto soprano.”
With the introduction of the mensural notation the old chironomic
system ceased to have a reason to exist and the conductor instead of
indicating every fluctuation of the melodic line, merely beat time at
certain of the accented divisions of the phrase. This was done usually
with a parchment roll of music in the hand, so that the singers and
ever increasing number of instrumentalists could keep together.
The transition from the 16th to the 17th century brought about
important innovations in music—the accompanied solo numbers of the
opera came into being, the figured bass and bar line were introduced
generally into choral and orchestral works. And, when in the course of
the 17th century the demand that the conductor cease this mechanical
beating of the time and give the tempo in a manner commensurate with
the effect desired became insistent, the conductor took his place
among the performers and lead the music from the clavicembalo. From
this position he not only led the performance but also filled in the
harmonies according to the figured bass. When the rhythm wavered, the
first violin, whom we call the concertmaster, gave the beat.
Although this method of combined leadership (cembalo and first violin)
was the one in general use during the 18th century, there were other
modes of leading. Rousseau pokes fun at the Paris opera where much evil
noise was made by pounding the floor with a stick in order to keep the
musical forces together. It is a grotesque truth that Lully lost his
life from an infection of the foot caused by a misdirected stroke of
the cane with which he was beating time.
According to Gessner, Bach presided at the organ or cembalo while
conducting and this seems to have been the method of Handel and
Gluck likewise. Haydn conducted his London Symphonies sitting at the
piano, more as a sort of public exhibition than as actual leader. The
conducting was done by Solomon, the violinist.
In the meantime another revolutionary change had taken place in music
itself. The general or figured bass playing clavier or cembalo was
rendered superfluous by the incorporation of the full harmony into
the orchestra itself. The only place where it held its own was in the
accompaniment to the recitative.
Beethoven conducted his “Eroica” in the house of Prince Lobkowitz,
1804, standing at the conductor’s desk. It is assumed that he used a
roll of sheet music, because in Germany the use of the baton was first
introduced by Mosel in 1812.
Spohr gives us an interesting glimpse of Beethoven’s conducting
methods. He says: “It was Beethoven’s custom to insert all sorts of
dynamic markings in the parts, and remind his players of the marks by
resorting to the most curious bodily contortions. At every ‘sforzato’
he would thrust his arms away from his breast where he held them
crossed. When he desired a ‘piano’ he would crouch lower and lower;
when the music grew louder into a ‘forte’, he would literally leap
into the air and at times grow so excited as to yell in the midst of a
climax.”
From about the year 1812 the use of the baton spread rapidly. We have
records of Carl Maria von Weber using the baton in 1817 in Dresden,
Mendelssohn in 1835 in Leipzig, and Spohr tells a most amusing anecdote
of how the musicians of the London orchestra protested most vehemently
when he first proposed to lead them with the magic little stick instead
of playing the violin with them.
The art of conducting as we understand it can be said to date back
to this triumvirate, von Weber, Spohr and Mendelssohn. Although all
creative musicians of the first water (and who until the era of the
modern travelling virtuoso was not primarily a creative musician),
these men grasped in the greatest measure the tremendous importance of
the proper interpretation of a musical composition and through their
personal effort and skill as leaders raised the standard of performance
wherever they directed. They realized the important difference
between merely beating time and giving the living pulse or tempo of a
composition.
Although Spohr is remembered today chiefly as a composer of violin
concerti and duos that all pupils play, in his own time his prestige
was equal to, if not greater than that of Beethoven. A man of
inflexible character and peculiar critical methods, he was not in
full sympathy with Beethoven and von Weber but on the other hand he
vigorously espoused the cause of the new German school, even giving a
performance of Wagner’s “Flying Dutchman” at a time when Wagner was not
at all popular. Wagner never forgot his indebtedness to Spohr, who was
the first German musician to recognize him. It was Spohr who introduced
the system of marking the score with letters and numbers to facilitate
rehearsing.
It is interesting to read Carl Maria von Weber’s directions for
time beating. To quote him: “The beat must not be like a tyrannical
mill-hammer but must be to the musical composition what the pulse
beat is to the life of a human being. There are no slow tempi in
which places do not occur which demand a faster movement in order to
eliminate the tendency to drag. On the other hand there is no presto
which has not contrasting episodes that must be played much slower to
avoid the slighting of the expressive passages.—All accelerandi as well
as ritardandi must be made skillfully, that is, gradually.” This is
only a small example of the reforms brought about by the composer of
“Oberon.”
Mendelssohn might be said to have been a living example of the rather
worn expression “a born conductor.” Brought up in the most musical of
households he was familiar with the orchestra from childhood and in his
life time was equally famous as conductor and composer. Although his
conducting was not entirely free from certain traits of superficiality
and rigid elegance, Wagner’s biting criticism of him must be taken with
a grain of salt.
Other prominent conductors of the romantic period were the composers
Meyerbeer and Spontini.
It is possible to reconstruct a picture of Hector Berlioz as conductor
from his own words. In his little book on the “Orchestral Conductor” he
says: “The orchestral conductor should _see_ and _hear_; he should be
_active_ and _vigorous_, should know the _composition_ and the _nature_
and _compass_ of the instruments, should be able to _read_ the score,
and possess—besides the especial talent of which we shall presently
endeavor to explain the constituent qualities—other indefinable gifts,
without which an invisible link cannot establish itself between him
and those he directs; otherwise the faculty of transmitting to them
his feeling is denied him, and power, empire, and guiding influence
completely fail him. He is then no longer a conductor, a director, but
a simple beater of the time—supposing he knows how to beat it, and
divide it, regularly.”
“The performers should feel that he feels, comprehends, and is moved;
then his emotion communicates itself to those whom he directs, his
inward fire warms them, his electric glow animates them, his force
of impulse excites them; he throws around him the vital irradiations
of musical art. If he is inert and frozen, on the contrary, he
paralyzes all about him, like those floating masses of the polar seas,
the approach of which is sensed through the sudden cooling of the
atmosphere.”
“His task is a complicated one. He has not only to conduct, in the
spirit of the author’s intentions, a work with which the performers
have already become acquainted, but he must also introduce new
compositions and help the performers to master them. He has to
criticise the errors and defects of each during the rehearsals, and
to organize the resources at his disposal in such a way as to make
the best use he can of them with the utmost promptitude; for, in the
majority of European cities nowadays, musical artisanship is so ill
distributed, performers so ill paid and the necessity of study so
little understood, that _economy_ of _time_ should be reckoned among
the most imperative requisites of the orchestral conductor’s art.”
Franz Liszt’s position as composer is too well known to require
further elucidation here, but Wagner’s description of his future
father-in-law’s conducting is certainly worth quoting. Wagner, passing
through Weimar in his flight from the governmental authorities, had
an opportunity to attend one of Liszt’s rehearsals of “Tannhäuser.”
He tells us: “What I felt when I created this music, he felt in his
performance of it; what I wanted to say as I wrote it down, he said in
bringing it to performance.” In the directions attached to the scores
of his Symphonic Poems, Liszt gives an interesting picture of his ideas
on conducting:
“A performance of my orchestral works which measures up to the standard
and intentions of the composer and that will give them the proper
tone color, rhythm and life, can best be brought about by preliminary
sectional rehearsals. With this in mind I respectfully request of the
esteemed conductors who intend to perform my symphonic works that they
precede the general rehearsal with separate rehearsals for the strings,
wood-wind, brass, etc.”
“At the same time I would like to remark that the usual mechanical,
cut and dried performance (customary in many cities) be avoided and in
its place the ‘new period’ style which stresses proper accentuation,
the rounding off of melodic and rhythmical nuances be substituted. The
life-nerve of a symphonic production rests in the conductor’s spiritual
and intellectual conception of the composition, it being assumed, of
course, that the orchestra possesses the necessary powers to realize
this conception. Should the latter condition be absent, I recommend
that my works be left unperformed.”
“Although I have tried through exact markings of the dynamics, the
accelerations and slowing up of the tempo, to clearly indicate my
wishes, I must confess that much, even that which is of the greatest
importance cannot be expressed on paper. Only a complete artistic
equipment on the part of the conductor and players, as well as a
sympathetic and spiritually enlivened performance can bring my works to
their proper effect.”
It was Liszt’s desire to free the performance of orchestral and choral
works from the limitations of bar line rhythm and to effect this change
his style of conducting became a sort of modern chironomy in which his
gestures expressed the “melos” and underlying spirit of the composition
as well as fulfilling their mechanical function.
From Liszt we easily trace the line of growth in the art of conducting
to Richard Wagner, and interestingly enough, with Richard Wagner the
great line of composer-conductors stops.
In this day and generation the ever increasing tendency of
specialization has brought about an almost complete separation of
creative activity from executive activity. Even in the 18th and early
19th century the virtuoso who travelled around was principally a
composer who played his own works. The conductor, player, or singer
who performs only the works of others is a modern product and was
completely unknown until recently.
But, before reviewing the names and accomplishments of the line of
purely virtuoso conductors, we must take time to consider Richard
Wagner’s position as conductor.
That same unquenchable reformatory fire which manifested itself
in Wagner’s composing made him one of the greatest conductors in
all musical history. His illuminating performances of Weber’s
“Freischuetz,” Gluck’s “Iphigenia,” Palestrina’s “Stabat Mater,”
Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” still cast their echoes down the corridors
of time to the influencing of performances that are being given today.
Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” was performed three times by Wagner (in
1846, ’47 and ’49) and not once did his name appear on the program.
What a contrast to these days, when often in the advance announcement
only the name of the ‘prima donna’ conductor appears!
For years Beethoven’s colossal work was the rock upon which many
talented conductors had foundered. Only the Parisian conductor,
Habeneck, who conducted from a violin-part, had the patience and
character to so drill his Conservatoire orchestra that they mastered
to a relatively high degree the difficulties of the work. Wagner tells
us in his book on conducting, of the great disappointment that was
his when he heard the actual performance in Germany of works which he
had come to love through the study of the score. In fact, his book is
almost entirely a diatribe against the superficial and conscienceless
conductors of this time. Habeneck’s performance of the “Ninth” opened
his eyes and he did not rest until he was likewise able to give
performances of Beethoven’s immortal work that were to mark a new era
and standard of orchestral technic.
He placed little stress on tempo marks, agreeing with Bach that a true
musician is able to tell from the character of the music just how fast
or slow a composition is to be taken. Taking his cue from Habeneck,
he made perfection of ensemble and correct rendition of the notes his
starting point and on this solid foundation he reared a structure of
the highest poetic beauty and imagination. The melos or spiritual
melody of the artwork was sought by him in every measure and when found
he caused whichever instrument through which it was expressed to sing
it with the utmost intensity and conviction. His fanatical desire to
always bring out the “melos” caused him at times to even go so far
as to alter the instrumentation of the original, giving notes to the
trumpets and horns which they in Beethoven’s time did not possess, and
often changing awkward passages in the woodwinds which he considered
were dictated more by Beethoven’s deafness than his better musical
judgment.
Descriptions of Wagner’s conducting tell us of a man of no more than
medium height with a rather still deportment, moderate but decisive
movements of the arms, a great vivacity and a habit of fixing a
piercing glance on the players of the orchestra which he ruled
imperially. Fürstenau, the flutist, related to Felix Weingartner that
when Wagner conducted they had no sense of being led and that each
player believed himself to be following freely his own feeling. And yet
everything was bound together so powerfully by Wagner’s mighty will
that everything went with wonderful smoothness and precision.
Wagner’s epoch-making works demanded a new school of conductors, and
gradually he was able to train younger men to carry out his ideas
and to spread the message of the new art. Chief among these Wagner
apostles was Hans von Buelow, a great pianist and a musician who
might have been a creator in his own right had he not heeded the
call of specialization, demanded of him as an interpreter. He toured
Europe with his small but highly-trained Meiningen Court Orchestra,
and completely revolutionized the status of orchestral playing. His
conducting of “Tristan” and his beautifully clear piano score of the
same, testify of his high understanding of the Wagner spirit. And
yet, after his tragic break with the Bayreuth master, he was able to
espouse the cause of the classic composers and, what is all the more
astonishing, become the chief exponent of the anti-Wagner school, of
which Brahms was the symbol.
In Bayreuth Wagner had as his conductors men like Hans Richter, Felix
Mottl and Hermann Levi and the names of these men are indelibly
connected with the glory that was Bayreuth’s. With the advent of these
conductors we stand at the threshold of today.
This brief sketch has led us from the time when the conductor was
little more than a time-beater functioning in the most mechanical
manner, to our own time when the conductor has achieved an importance
in the musical world second only to the creator himself, and in some
cases even transcending the position of the mere creator of the music.
Did not a great conductor of today recently ask a composer: “Have you
ever heard me conduct your opera?” “No.” “You should, you wouldn’t
recognize it.”
The conductor of today is not merely the time-beater and drill-master
who achieves note-perfection, but he is the genius who frees music
from all the imperfections of material limitations, his rhythm is no
longer the wallpaper pattern of the bar line, but takes on its original
meaning in the stressing of the flowing phrase; his gesture is no
longer the mere beat but is the pictorialization and visualization of
the music itself.
In the new conductor, Liszt’s ideal of the conductor or time-beater
who makes himself superfluous is partially realized, but not in
the way Liszt thought. The conductor of today has made the old
time-beater-drill-master superfluous by supplanting him with a
super-being, one who with his wealth of subtle and interpretative
gestures has brought into being a new art of chironomy which does not
merely indicate the rise and fall of the melody, but indicates that
which no composer has ever succeeded in putting on paper—the living
soul and spirit of the artwork.
CHAPTER II
THE PHYSICAL ASPECT OF CONDUCTING; ANALYSIS OF ARM AND HAND MOVEMENTS
USED IN CONDUCTING
This chapter is devoted entirely to the physical aspect of conducting.
Analysis of the gestures used in conducting has shown that there are
four fundamental movements.
A—Wrist movement in horizontal position. (With palm of the hand
facing downward.)
B—Wrist movement in vertical position. (With palm of the hand
facing inward.)
C—Fore-arm movement.
D—Full-arm movement.
The diagrams on pages 11 and 13 represent a set of exercises for the
acquiring of complete control and suppleness of the wrist and arm in
all these four movements. On the opposite pages sets of music examples
will be found. Each individual note of these examples represents a
movement.
The conscientious study and practice of these exercises will not
only fully prepare the conductor for the more complicated beating of
time-indications, but will give him that poise and confidence which
come only with a consciousness of absolute self-control. This physical
self-control is one of the greatest essentials in the art of conducting.
DESCRIPTION OF EXERCISES
There are two series of exercises, each numbering 24 figures. These are
to be performed in four different styles, corresponding to the four
fundamental movements.
A—Wrist movement in horizontal position.
B—Wrist movement in vertical position.
C—Fore-arm movement.
D—Full-arm movement.
For each style, there are four different positions which, for practical
reasons, have been named after the points of the compass; North,
South, East, and West. The drawings contained in this chapter are
of the four different positions, for each style of exercise. In the
diagram of exercises each of these points is indicated by a letter;
N—for North, S—for South, E—for East, and W—for West.
The small letter in the upper left corner indicates the starting point.
The other letters indicate the points of arrival.
Each figure is to be executed in time with certain music examples of
which each individual note corresponds to a point of arrival.
For instance, figure 1 would be executed with Music Ex. 1 thus:
[Music]
_South position_ corresponding to the note C.
_North position_ corresponding to the note G.
The _sf_ on a letter indicates a sharp forceful movement as opposed to
a more relaxed motion. In the exercises for the wrist, the forearm and
upper arm must remain motionless. Likewise, the forearm movement must
be executed without moving the upper arm.
Great caution should be taken not to over-tire the wrist and arm, when
first practising these exercises.
These exercises are to be practised by the right and left arm
alternatively.
It is suggested for the individual practise that the student place the
music examples on one side of the music stand and the diagram of the
exercises on the other.
Thus he may describe the gymnastic exercises while singing or whistling
the music.
MUSICAL EXAMPLES FOR GYMNASTIC EXERCISES
Series 1
[Music: Ex. 1]
[Music: Ex. 2]
[Music: Ex. 3]
[Music: Ex. 4]
[Music: Ex. 5]
[Music: Ex. 6]
[Music: Ex. 7]
[Music: Ex. 8]
[Music: Ex. 9]
[Music: Ex. 10]
Apply these exercises to all figures of series 1.
[Illustration: Series 1
_Fig. 1 Fig. 2 Fig. 3
Fig. 4 Fig. 5 Fig. 6
Fig. 7 Fig. 8 Fig. 9
Fig. 10 Fig. 11 Fig. 12
Fig. 13 Fig. 14 Fig. 15
Fig. 16 Fig. 17 Fig. 18
Fig. 19 Fig. 20 Fig. 21
Fig. 22 Fig. 23 Fig. 24_]
Series 2
[Music: Ex. 1]
[Music: Ex. 2]
[Music: Ex. 3]
[Music: Ex. 4]
[Music: Ex. 5]
[Music: Ex. 6]
[Music: Ex. 7]
[Music: Ex. 8]
[Music: Ex. 9]
Apply these exercises to all figures of series 2
=NOTE:=—Each individual note corresponds to a gesture
indicated in the figures by a N, E, S, W.
[Illustration: Series 2
_Fig. 1 Fig. 2 Fig. 3
Fig. 4 Fig. 5 Fig. 6
Fig. 7 Fig. 8 Fig. 9
Fig. 10 Fig. 11 Fig. 12
Fig. 13 Fig. 14 Fig. 15
Fig. 16 Fig. 17 Fig. 18
Fig. 19 Fig. 20 Fig. 21
Fig. 22 Fig. 23 Fig. 24_]
The letter in the upper left corner
indicates the starting point.
N—North Position.
W—West Position.
S—South Position.
E—East Position.
[Illustration: ‘=N=,’ or =North= position of Style A]
1. Drop arm loosely to side.
2. Raise forearm forward until it forms a right angle with the upper
arm.
3. Extend hand and fingers; keep the palm facing downwards.
4. Without moving the arm, raise the hand from the wrist-joint until
almost at a right angle with the forearm.
=Note.=—The forearm maintains this position all through the exercises
of Style A.
[Illustration: ‘=S=,’ or =South= position of Style A]
Without moving the forearm, lower the hand from the wrist-joint until
at a right angle with the forearm.
[Illustration: ‘=E=,’ or =East= position of Style A]
Without moving the forearm, and always keeping the fingers extended and
palm downward, move the hand to the right as far as possible.
[Illustration: ‘=W=,’ or =West= position of Style A]
Without moving the arm, and always keeping the fingers extended with
the palm downward, move the hand to the left as far as it will go.
[Illustration: ‘=N=,’ or =North= position of Style B]
1. Drop arm loosely to side.
2. Raise forearm forward until it forms a right angle with the upper
arm.
3. The fingers remain extended and the palm is turned so that the thumb
is uppermost.
4. Without moving the forearm, raise the hand as far as possible,
taking care to keep the fingers extended and palm inward.
=Note.=—The forearm maintains this position throughout the positions of
Style B.
[Illustration: ‘=S=,’ or =South= position of Style B]
Without moving the arm, lower the hand as far as possible, taking care
to keep the fingers extended and palm inward (facing to the left).
[Illustration: ‘=E=,’ or =East= position of Style B]
Without moving the arm, point the hand and fingers to the right until
almost forming a right angle with the arm.
[Illustration: ‘=W=,’ or =West= position of Style B]
Without moving the arm, point the hand and fingers to the left until
almost forming a right angle. The thumb still remains uppermost.
[Illustration: ‘=N=,’ or =North= position of Style C]
1. Drop arm loosely to side.
2. Raise forearm forward until it forms a right angle with the upper
arm.
3. The palm is turned down.
4. Without moving the upper arm, raise the forearm upwards until the
back of the hand almost touches the shoulder.
=Note.=—The upper arm maintains this position throughout the exercises
in Style C.
[Illustration: ‘=S=,’ or =South= position of Style C]
Without moving the upper arm, lower the forearm until the palm of the
hand is about 3 or 4 inches from the thigh.
[Illustration: ‘=E=,’ or =East= position of Style C]
Without moving upper arm, turn the forearm to the right about 40
degrees.
[Illustration: ‘=W=,’ or =West= position of Style C]
Without moving upper arm, turn the forearm to the left about 40
degrees, the palm of the hand facing forward.
[Illustration: ‘=S=,’ or =South= position of Style D]
Lower arm downward until the palm is about 4 inches from the thigh.
=NOTE.=—All motions in Style ‘D’ are described by the full arm.
[Illustration: ‘=W=,’ or =West= position of Style D]
Turn arm to the left about 40 degrees.
[Illustration: ‘=E=,’ or =East= position of Style D]
Turn arm to the right about 40 degrees.
[Illustration: ‘=N=,’ or =North= position of Style D]
Raise arm upwards with palm forward and fingers extended.
CHAPTER III-A
THE GENERAL ATTITUDE OF THE CONDUCTOR
1. The general attitude of the conductor must be one of
quiet, but commanding dignity.
2. He must not only know what he wants, but must be
able to convey this knowledge to his musicians by a
minimum of gesture.
3. His body must be as firm as the proverbial mighty
oak which only sways in the fiercest storm. The
head, knees and feet must remain quiet.
4. The length of the arm movement varies necessarily
with the length of the individual arm. The increase
or decrease in the tempo also calls for changes in
motion. A quick tempo is conducted with a smaller
motion than a slow tempo. Often the contrast of
“fortissimo” to “pianissimo” is indicated by
changing from large to small motions.
5. All gestures must be directed by the hand or
forearm. Just as the singer is admonished to produce
his tones “forward” so should the conductor place
his center of energetic motive power as far into the
tips of the fingers as possible. This produces the
effect of the hand easily drawing the arm after it
rather than pushing the dead weight of the arm by a
movement that seems to begin in the shoulder.
6. The baton must not be held stiffly as this would
effect the suppleness of the whole arm. The gesture
must be described by the very tip of the baton, as
if an imaginary brush were attached to it and one
were painting the gesture on some imaginary surface.
As a rule the palm of the hand should be held
downward.
7. It is possible to beat time accurately and still use
uneven and unrythmical motions. To avoid this, the
greatest rare should be taken to move from one beat
to another in a measured and symmetrical manner.
8. In a slow movement, accuracy can be obtained by
ending each beat with an added sharp wrist movement
in the same direction as the beat.
9. The function of the left arm is difficult to
describe. Although it plays a more modest part
than the right arm, it is nevertheless of much
importance. It must ever be ready with preventive
motions, indications of instrumental entrances
(cues), and to add force to certain gestures of the
right arm. But let it here be said that the habit of
conducting constantly with both arms describing the
motions is only to be condemned.
10. Although all general rules in conducting are
dangerous, it is suggested that the principle of
indicating each accent, entrance, sudden “forte” or
“piano,” one beat in advance be adhered to.
CHAPTER III-B
PHOTOGRAPHS WHICH ILLUSTRATE THE FIVE FUNDAMENTAL POSITIONS USED IN
ACTUAL CONDUCTING
[Illustration: No. 1. Preparatory position. 4/4 time.]
[Illustration: NUMBER 2
Position of the first beat in 4/4 time.]
[Illustration: NUMBER 3
Position of the second beat in 4/4 time.]
[Illustration: NUMBER 4
Position of the third beat in 4/4 time.]
[Illustration: NUMBER 5
Position of the fourth beat in 4/4 time.]
CHAPTER III-C
DIAGRAMS OF GESTURES USED IN CONDUCTING
The music examples are to illustrate the use of the gesture and have
been found practical for class work.
In practising these gestures with the music examples, the movement must
always be expressive of the character of the music.
Sharp and energetic movements for music of an accentuated character,
and moderate, gentle movements for music of a corresponding nature.
The accent is executed by a sharp, quick arm movement. Great care must
be taken to execute each movement, even the most gentle pianissimo,
clearly and with authority.
In all the diagrams shown the following principles are adhered to:—
1. The heavy or accented beat is indicated by a dark
arrow.
2. The light or unaccented beat is indicated by an
unshaded arrow.
3. The semi-accented beat is indicated by a semi-shaded
arrow.
4. All subdivisions are indicated by dotted lines.
5. The fundamental beats are described with the arm
movement, while subdivisions are performed with the
wrist. In this manner, a clear indication of the
fundamental beat is always maintained.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 1]
Fundamental method of beating 2/2, 2/4 time.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 2]
Actual method of beating 2/2, 2/4, and fast 6/8 and 6/4 time.
EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 1 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 2
[Music]
Accented 1st beat:—
[Music]
Accented 2nd beat:—
[Music]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 3
Normal subdivision of 2/2 and 2/4 time.]
=N.B.= The subdivision of each beat is indicated by the word “and”.
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 2 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 3 A]
[Music: B[1]]
[1]
[Illustration]
This form of six eight time is indicated in the above manner.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 4
Method of beating 6/8, 6/4 time when only 2 beats in a measure are
required. To be used also for slow 2/4 time.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 5
Accented subdivision of 2/2 and 2/4 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 3 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 5]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 6
6/4 or 6/8 time. (Modern French Method) 6/4 or 6/8 time is a
subdivision of 2/2 or 2/4 time.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 6a
Old method of beating slow 6/8 time.
The disadvantage of this method is that the 6th beat is out of
proportion with the others. In diagram Nᵒ. 6 the long beat comes on the
4th or naturally accented beat of the measure, whereas in 6a the 6th or
last beat in the measure is apt to be unduly accented.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 4 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 6 and 6a]
[Music: =A=—With accent on 1st beat.]
[Music: =B=—With accent on 2nd beat.]
[Music: =C=—With accent on 3rd beat.]
[Music: =D=—With accent on 4th beat.]
[Music: =E=—With accent on 5th beat.]
[Music: =F=—With accent on 6th beat.]
[Music: =G=—With accent on 1st and 4th beat.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 7
Fundamental method of beating 3/2, 3/4 or 3/8 time.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 8
Actual method of beating 3/2, 3/4 or 3/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 5 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 8
=A=]
[Music: =B=—With accent on 1st beat.]
[Music: =C=—With accent on 2nd beat.]
[Music: =D=—With accent on 3rd beat.]
[Music: =E=—Accent on 1st and 3rd beat.]
[Music: =F=—Waltz—Accent on 1st beat.]
[Music: Polonaise
=G=—Accent on all 3 beats.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 9
Normal subdivision of 3/2, 3/4 or 3/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 6 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 9]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 10
Accented subdivision of 3/2, 3/4 or 3/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 7 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 10]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 11
9/8 Time. Only for very slow tempos. Otherwise, beat 3.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ 8 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 11]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 12
Fundamental method of beating 4/2, 4/4 and 4/8 time.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 13
Actual method of beating 4/2, 4/4 and 4/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 9 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 13]
[Music: =A=—With accent on 1st beat.]
[Music: =B=—With accent on 2nd beat.]
[Music: =C=—With accent on 3rd beat.]
[Music: =D=—With accent on 4th beat.]
[Music: =E=—With accent on 1st and 3rd beat.]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 14
Normal subdivision of 4/2, 4/4 and 4/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 10 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 14]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 15
Accented subdivision of 4/2, 4/4 and 4/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 11 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 15]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 16
12/4 or 12/8 time.
12/8 time is really a subdivision of 4/4 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 12 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 16]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 17
5/4 or 5/8 time.
This 5/4 or 5/8 time is a compound rhythm of (2-3)/4 or (2-3)/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 13 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 17]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 18
5/8 or 5/4 time.
This 5/8 or 5/4 time is a compound of (3-2)/8 or (3-2)/4 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 14 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 18]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 19
Method of conducting slow 5/4 time when the measure is not subdivided
into (3-2)/4 or (2-3)/4.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 15 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 19]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 20
7/4 time.
(3-4)/4 or (3-4)/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 16 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 20]
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 21
7/8 or 7/4 time.
(3-4)/4 or (3-4)/8 time.]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 17 for DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 21]
CHAPTER III-D
Left Hand Signals
1. “=_pp_=” (Pianissimo) is indicated by extending
and raising the left arm slightly with the hand
at the level of the shoulder, palm downward.
2. “=_p_=” (Piano) is indicated by raising the left
forearm until the back of the hand is directly
in front of the left shoulder.
3. Coda Sign—Raise left arm above the head with one
finger extended.
4. Second Ending—Raise left arm above the head with
two fingers extended.
5. To stop in middle of strain—Raise left arm above
head, with all the fingers extended, and keep it
there until halt is desired. At this point, bring
it down firmly and quickly.
CHAPTER III-E
Suggestions for Practice
At the conclusion of this chapter, a word or two on practice in the art
of conducting may not be out of place. One might read all about the art
of swimming and yet be entirely lost the first time one is actually
thrown into the water. The tricky resistance and action of the water is
not unlike what the tyro conductor feels when he first takes his stand,
baton in hand, in front of the orchestra or chorus.
Of course, when the conductor has even the most amateurish orchestra or
chorus with which to practice, no better method need be recommended.
But in England and America this is all too seldom the case, and the
hapless beginner has to learn his art the best he can, without the aid
of this valuable experimental laboratory.
It is related of Koussevitzky, the great Russian conductor, that in his
apprenticeship period he gained his practice of baton technic on an
imaginary orchestra which consisted of empty chairs with signs on them
representing the various instrumental choirs. It required imagination
to do this, and let it be said right here that imagination is one of
the first requisites of the conductor.
The beginner in conducting can at least familiarize himself with the
feel of the baton, and practice the ordinary gestures until they become
as automatic as walking and breathing. Conducting to a phonograph
record is most helpful.
After the score has been mastered (see Chapter VI) it is a good plan
for the student to conduct an imaginary performance of it, giving the
proper gestures and all necessary cues. More great conductors than
would ordinarily admit this make a regular practice of this “silent”
conducting. Like the great actors whom they strive to emulate, they
make a detailed study of every gesture, attitude and, sometimes, pose,
which might be expressive of the character of the music they are
interpreting.
CHAPTER IV
SOME BASIC PROBLEMS OF BATON TECHNIC
The “attaque” (start), the “release”, the “fermata” (hold),
subdivision, breathing places, phrasing.
The “Attaque”
One of the most important and difficult results to obtain is a clean
cut and united “attaque” or start, on the part of the players. The
following suggestions will aid toward an achievement of this result.
When the musical subject begins directly on the first beat of the
measure, one beat before, given in the time of the following measures
and in the position of the last beat in the measure, will suffice to
assure a concerted and clean-cut “attaque.” The following measures,
from the PRELUDE TO THE MASTERSINGERS by WAGNER, illustrate this
principle.
[Illustration]
[Music]
(B) When the musical subject begins on the last beat of the measure,
give the preceding beat, first. This beat should be less marked than
those following.
[Music: Overture to Tannhäuser—_Wagner_]
NOTE: Many modern conductors dispense with this
preceding beat. However, it is extremely valuable
in establishing the rhythm and helpful to less
experienced orchestral or band players.
(C) The principle of the preceding example is also applicable to cases
in which the musical subject begins on any fraction of the beat.
[Music: Marche Hongroise—_Berlioz_]
[Music]
(D) In a case where the time is “one” in a measure, and the musical
subject begins on a fraction of the measure, beat one whole measure
before.
[Music: Symphony Pastorale—_Beethoven_]
The “Fermata” (Hold) and “Release”
Executing the gesture in a rather high position (above the head) beat
only the beginning and end of the note.
1—Indicates the start.
2—Indicates the culmination of the chord which must be brought
about with a quick, incisive movement to the right, preceded
by a short preparatory movement to the left.
[Music]
When the “fermata” (hold) is at the end of the piece, terminate the
chord by a sharp second down-beat preceded only by a slight preparatory
curve. The second down-beat must be long enough to remove the baton
completely from the sight of the audience and to bring it to such a
position that definitely terminates all further conducting.
[Music]
When the “fermata” or hold comes on a note in the midst of a phrase,
merely sustain that beat longer than the others.
[Music]
[Music]
In example (b) hold the “fermata” on the third beat after beating “one”
and “two”.
SUBDIVISION
Employment of the “subdivision” to emphasize and give weight to certain
characteristic passages, ritenuti, etc.
By subdividing the beats in the fourth measure of the following
example, force and accent are given to the phrase.
[Music: Ninth Symphony—_Beethoven_]
The sharply accented beat as a means of obtaining precision in
syncopated figures.
By accenting the first and third beats of measures (1) and (2) of
the following example, a certain lingering on the tied notes will be
avoided.
[Music: Prelude to “The Mastersingers”—_Wagner_]
To secure a firm “attaque” of the horns in the fourth measure,
subdivide the second beat of the measure.
[Illustration: Slow 4 in a measure]
[Music: Symphony No. 5— Dvorak]
To secure precision in the syncopated entrances, subdivide the
4-in-a-measure as indicated by the numbers, using gesture No. 15. (p 47)
[Music]
To secure precision in the unison pizzicato notes, subdivide the second
beat in the first two measures, giving all the beats but this one with
a small gesture.
[Music: Les Preludes. Liszt]
To bring out the climax at letter (C) subdivide the measure at (B) with
heavy decisive strokes on each 8th note.
[Music]
[Music: Les Preludes. Liszt]
To indicate places for taking breath, conduct in the manner described
below. The arm movement must come to a complete stop just before the
breathing place.
[Illustration]
[Music]
CHAPTER V
Some Special Problems of Baton Technic
In his excellent article of “Conducting” in Grove’s Dictionary, Ralph
Vaughan-Williams gives the following rule: “As a general rule no more
strokes should be used than are absolutely necessary to mark the
time”; for instance no bar should be beaten in three strokes that can
be beaten in one, no bar should be beaten in four strokes that can be
beaten in two.
This rule is unassailable but there are times when it is difficult for
the conductor to judge which style of time-beating to use. The Adagio
and Allegro of the Overture to “The Magic Flute” are good examples of
such a difficulty.
The Adagio is marked [symbol] and is usually taken in four moderate
beats. The Allegro has no alla breve [symbol] mark and yet should be
taken in two moderate beats.
[Music]
[Music]
To beat the Allegro in four gives it precision but takes away from the
light and graceful airiness of the figure by giving undue prominence to
the third beat. In any 4/4 or 4/8 gesture the third beat is apt to get
almost as strong an accent as the first.
The Allegro Vivace of Mozart’s “Jupiter Symphony” is also taken
alla breve instead of in four beats as marked. A number of present
day conductors are taking the March in the “Pathetique Symphony” of
Tschaikowski in alla breve time with very marked success.
On the other hand there are types of compositions that need the greater
energizing power of the four beats. Percy Grainger’s “Molly on the
Shore”[2] is a good example of one of these. He requests the conductor
to keep four equally accented beats hammering away throughout the whole
piece.
[Music]
[2] Copyright 1911, by G. Schirmer, Inc. N. Y.
In conducting fast moving tempos one-in-a-bar, the conductor will
soon notice the individual bars grouping themselves together in
phrases and periods, and it is most helpful to the musicians if some
slight indication of the groupings be given in conducting. In fast
one-in-a-bar movements four single measures often become one large
measure of four beats, and if the beginning and termination of this
measure group is indicated by a slightly larger beat, the musical
composition becomes more intelligible to the player and listener.
Thus the beginning of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony
From the sixth measure on
[Music]
might easily become:
[Music]
This rearranged phrase grouping should in no way be misunderstood to
mean that the tempo should be beaten in 4/4 Andante. Merely, the more
compact grouping of faster notes in a slower tempo is often a mental
help to both conductor and player in bringing out the proper musical
inflection.
A glance at the following example will show how readily the opening
theme of the “Eroica Symphony” falls into groups of four measures each.
[Music]
On the other hand, the Scherzo of the same work is unevenly divided
into phrases of four and two measures.
[Music]
With the advent of Stravinsky and other moderns a new problem of
time beating has arisen in connection with the attempt to free music
entirely from the formal division of the bar line placed at regular
intervals. Not that these composers dispense with the bar line
completely, but they place it in such disconcertingly irregular places
that the conductor’s task is doubly difficult even when he attempts to
indicate it merely with a single down-beat.
The two following examples from Igor Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka”[3]
illustrate this difficulty. The tempo is too fast to permit the use of
regularly divided gestures, and yet it is very difficult to bring in
the single beats with such metronomic precision that the musicians can
play all of the individual eighth notes evenly and without hurrying.
[3] Copyright by Russischer Musikverlag, Berlin
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 1
3 in a measure]
[Music]
[Music: EXAMPLE Nᵒ. 2]
The author, in his conducting class at New York University has
experimented with several methods, and has finally hit upon the
following system of teaching the intricate baton technic involved in
the conducting of works like Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka.”
The student is made to sit at the piano and play simple five finger
figures with a single accent on the first note which is always played
by the thumb.
[Music: (_a_)]
[Music: (_b_)]
[Music: (_c_)]
[Music: (_d_)]
[Music: (_e_)]
[Music: (_f_)]
[Music: (_g_)]
Playing the eighth notes in a rather quick tempo each exercise is to be
repeated until the feeling of the recurrence of the down-beat (which
corresponds to the accented thumb stroke) becomes entirely automatic.
Care must be taken never to vary the speed of the eighth notes and to
accent only the first note.
Translated into terms of this exercise the two examples from
“Petrouchka” would be as follows:
[Music]
[Music]
The speed of the eighth notes must never vary.
Fractional or uneven time
[Music]
Beat =3=-in-a-measure, merely making the third beat one-eighth note
longer.
[Music]
Beat 2-in-a-measure, merely making the second beat one-eighth note
longer.
[Music]
The Hymn of Jesus:—Gustave Holst (Copyright 1920 by Stainer and Bell,
London)
[Illustration]
[Music]
Beat 4-in-a-measure, merely making the fourth beat one-eighth note
longer.
ON THE CONDUCTING OF WALTZES
To begin with, a dividing line must be drawn between a waltz played for
dancing and the concert waltz. The former is performed in a regular
rhythmic manner everywhere, except in Vienna and South America, where
the dancers are accustomed to little freedoms of tempo. There is so
much really good music written in this form, that it is a pity to hear
waltzes “ground out” in the reprehensible one-beat-in-a-measure style
of so many of our Military Bandmasters. Portions of Strauss’ “Artist’s
Life” Waltzes are given in the following examples, which also contain
various modes of beating waltz time to conform with the _spirit of the
music_.
There are many ways of conducting waltz time. Some conductors beat all
the beats, others again, only one beat to the measure. Analysis of some
of the methods of the great conductors who have not disdained to play
the waltzes of composers like Waldteufel or Johann Strauss, has lead
us to believe that the three styles of conducting explained in the
following diagrams are the ones most generally used.
A—The one-beat-in-a-measure style for passages of flowing melody and
great verve.
In order to avoid a monotony of motion, it is best to start the
down-beats of each measure, alternately from the left and the right.
The dotted line in the diagram indicates the reflex or rebound
movement, which brings the hand and arm in a position to start the next
beat.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ.1 (_Style 1_)
(_A_) Starting the beat from left to right.]
[Illustration: (_B_) Starting the beat from the right.]
B—Following the heavy down-beat of the measure, the second beat will be
indicated by a sharp sideward wrist movement and in lieu of the third
beat, the hand and arm will be drawn up to the original position in a
more relaxed manner.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 2 (_Style 2_)]
Light and delicate rhythmic figures are best indicated by this method.
C—The third method is the regular gesture used in any 3/4 or 3/8 time
and indicates each beat.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM Nᵒ.3 (_Style 3_)
Same as 3/4 time.]
In the following extract from Artists’ Life Waltz by Strauss, the
three different styles are applied. The various strains and the manner
of beating each measure, are indicated by the Roman Numerals which
correspond to the diagrams.
I Diagram 1
II Diagram 2
III Diagram 3
[Music]
[Music]
From Hector Berlioz’ “Treatise on Conducting”
A dilemma sometimes presents itself when certain parts—for the sake
of contrast—are given a triple rhythm, while others preserve the dual
rhythm.
[Music]
If the wind-instrument parts in the above example are confided to
players who are good musicians, there will be no need to change the
manner of marking the bar, and the conductor may continue to subdivide
it by six, or to divide it simply by two. The majority of players,
however, seeming to hesitate at the moment when, by employing the
syncopated form, the triple rhythm clashes with the dual rhythm,
require assurance, which can be given by easy means. The uncertainty
occasioned them by the sudden appearance of the unexpected rhythm,
contradicted by the rest of the orchestra, always leads the performers
to cast an instinctive glance towards the conductor, as if seeking his
assistance. He should look at them, turning somewhat towards them,
and marking the triple rhythm by very slight gestures, as if the time
were really three in a bar, but in such a way that the violins and
other instruments playing in dual rhythm may not observe the change,
which would quite put them out. From this compromise it results that
the new rhythm of three-time, being marked furtively by the conductor,
is executed with steadiness; while the two-time rhythm already
firmly established, continues without difficulty, although no longer
indicated by the conductor. On the other hand, nothing, in my opinion
can be more blamable, or more contrary to musical good sense, than the
application of this procedure to passages where two rhythms of opposite
nature do not co-exist, and where merely syncopations are introduced.
The conductor, dividing the bar by _the number of accents he finds
contained in it_, then destroys (for all the auditors who see him)
the effect of syncopation; and substitutes a mere change of time for
a play of rhythm of the most bewitching interest. If the accents are
marked, instead of the beats, in the following passage from Beethoven’s
Pastoral Symphony, we have the subjoined:—
[Music]
whereas the four previously maintained display the syncopation and make
it better felt:—
[Music]
This voluntary submission to a rhythmical form _which the author
intended to thwart_ is one of the gravest faults in style that a beater
of the time can commit.
There is another dilemma, extremely troublesome for a conductor,
and demanding all his presence of mind. It is that presented by the
super-addition of different bars. It is easy to conduct a bar in dual
time placed above or beneath another bar in triple time, if both have
the same kind of movement. Their chief divisions are then equal in
duration, and one needs only to divide them in half, marking the two
principal beats:—
[Music]
But if, in the middle of a piece slow in movement, there is introduced
a new form brisk in movement, and if the composer (either for the sake
of facilitating the execution of the quick movement, or because it was
impossible to write otherwise) has adopted for this new movement the
short bar which corresponds with it, there may then occur two, or even
three short bars super-added to a slow bar:—
[Music]
The conductor’s task is to guide and keep together these different bars
of unequal number and dissimilar movement. He attains this by dividing
the beats in the Andante bar, No. 1, which precedes the entrance of
the Allegro in 6/8, and by continuing to divide them; but taking care
to mark the division more decidedly. The players of the Allegro in 6/8
then comprehend that the two gestures of the conductor represent the
two beats of their short bar, while the players of the Andante take
these same gestures merely for a divided beat of their long bar.
[Illustration: Bar No. 1]
[Illustration: Bars Nos. 2, 3, and so on.]
It will be seen that this is really quite simple, because the division
of the short bar, and the subdivisions of the long one, mutually
correspond. The following example, where a slow bar is super-added to
the short ones, without this correspondence existing, is more awkward:—
[Music]
[Music]
Here, the three bars Allegro-assai preceding the Allegretto are beaten
in simple two-time, as usual. At the moment when the Allegretto begins,
the bar of which is double that of the preceding, and of the one
maintained by the violas, the conductor marks _two divided beats_ for
the long bar, by two equal gestures down, and two others up:—
[Illustration]
The two large gestures divide the long bar in half, and explain its
value to the hautboys, without perplexing the violas, who maintain the
brisk movement, on account of the little gesture which also divides in
half their short bar.
From bar No. 3, the conductor ceases to divide thus the long bar by
4, on account of the triple rhythm of the melody in 6/8, which this
gesture interferes with. He then confines himself to marking the
two beats of the long bar; while the violas, already launched in
their rapid rhythm, continue it without difficulty, comprehending
exactly that each stroke of the conductor’s stick marks merely _the
commencement_ of their short bar.
This last observation shows with what care dividing the beats of a bar
should be avoided when a portion of the instruments or voices has to
execute triplets upon these beats. The division, by cutting in half
the second note of the triplet, renders its execution uncertain. It is
even necessary to abstain from this division of the beats of a bar just
before the moment when the rhythmical or melodic design is divided by
three, in order not to give to the players the impression of a rhythm
contrary to that which they are about to hear:—
[Music]
In this example, the subdivision of the bar into six, or the division
of beats into two, is useful; and offers no inconvenience _during bar
No. 1_ when the following gesture is made:—
[Illustration]
But from the beginning of bar No. =2= it is necessary to make only the
simple gestures:—
[Illustration]
on account of the triplet on the third beat, and on account of the one
following it which the double gesture would much interfere with.
In the famous ball-scene of Mozart’s _Don Giovanni_, the difficulty
of keeping together the three orchestras, written in three different
measures, is less than might be thought. It is sufficient to mark
downwards each beat of the _tempo di minuetto_:—
[Music]
Once entered upon the combination, the little allegro in 3/8, of
which a whole bar represents one-third, or one beat of that of the
minuetto, and the other allegro in 2/4, of which a whole bar represents
two-thirds, or two beats, correspond with each other and with the
principal theme; while the whole proceeds without the slightest
confusion. All that is requisite is to make them come in properly.
CHAPTER VI.
HOW TO PREPARE A SCORE
_Methodical mastery of the full score, mental reading, use of piano.
Preparing a score for rehearsal and performance._
To the average layman and even a great many musicians, an orchestral
score appears to be about as intricate in appearance as a blue print of
a complicated engine. The simile of the blue print and the score is not
inapt inasmuch as the blue print represents on paper every detail of
the mechanical construction of the engine, and, likewise, the musical
score is an exact description on paper of every detail of the musical
composition.
No attempt will be made in this book to describe the development of
the core from the days of the early Italian opera composers who did
not even write out parts for the players, to our own time when hardly
anything is left to the imagination of the musician, and everything
is written in the music. Likewise, the aesthetic interpretation
and evaluation of the musical content of the score will be left
undiscussed, to make way for the presentation of the practical aspect
of a methodical system of learning to read quickly and accurately the
mere notes of the score.
It is related that a celebrated professional magician, in order to
train his sense of vision, quickness of mental perception and memory,
used to practice looking at a show window for exactly one minute
and then writing down from memory the name of every article he saw
therein. By practice he was enabled to increase the number of articles
remembered from a relatively small number to a total which included
everything in the window. Now, what the magician did with his sense of
vision, quickness of mental perception, and memory is precisely what
the musician must do in learning to read the full score.
Possibly the most confusing thing to the beginner in score reading is
the increased demands made upon his vision. Accustomed to reading music
in one or two staves, the eye is now called upon to comprehend as many
as 24 to 30 staves in a glance. At first this seems an impossible task
but like many other seemingly impossible tasks it can be accomplished
by patient and systematic practice. Of course, every conductor has
his own way of mastering a score and the author can only give his
personal method. However, this method has been followed successfully by
students, and in practically every case has been found successful.
It is assumed that the conductor has some ability in piano-playing.
Naturally, the more the better, although it is not necessary to be
equipped with the highest virtuoso technic. A knowledge of the scales
and arpeggios, the ability to play Bach’s Two and Three Part Inventions
and Well-Tempered Clavichord might be considered a working equipment
for the conductor. Let it be explained here, that while the ideal of
score reading is to be able to read and hear every note of the partitur
without the aid of the piano, the value of the use of the instrument
in the process of developing this ability and as a constant means of
checking and proving one’s capacity is unquestioned.
The best exercise for widening or broadening the sense of vision
is to practice the playing of three or more part vocal scores. A
collection of early church music such as “Musica Sacra,” published
by Peters, contains the most practical material. Herein are to be
found in two, three, four, five, six, eight, ten and twelve parts and
staves, the lovely old polyphonic works of the early Italian masters
and the patient practice on these, always adding one more part, will
do much toward the spreading of a sense of vision that has become
limited by the habitual perusal of just one or two lines. The absolute
independence of each individual part makes these polyphonic choruses
highly valuable as practice material.
The second difficulty of the full score is the fact that not all of
the instruments are written in the familiar clefs and many of them are
transposed into different keys because of their peculiar mechanical
construction.
Following the method employed in the conducting classes of the High
School for Music in Berlin, the author has found the use of Bach’s
chorales with each of the four parts written in a different clef,
most effective in imparting the ability to transpose. These chorales
should be taken from the various two-line editions (Peters, Breitkopf
& Härtel, C. C. Birchard) and copied by the student on four separate
lines, using the Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass clefs for the respective
parts.
The Soprano clef,
[Illustration]
Alto clef,
[Illustration]
and the Tenor clef,
[Illustration]
are C clefs, i.e., the note on the staff indicated by the clef is
middle C;
[Illustration]
with the Soprano clef this is the first line, with the Alto clef the
third, and with the Tenor clef, the fourth. Knowing the position of
middle C it should not be difficult to trace the position of the other
notes of the scales. The following is an example of the old and new
vocal scores:
Passion Chorale (_Bach_)
[Music]
[Illustration]
For variety, the student might make use of ordinary four part hymn
tunes in the same manner. These chorales and hymn tunes in the old
clefs must not be merely played through a few times, but are to be
practiced daily until the process of playing the old clefs has become
as automatic as playing in the treble and bass clefs. This will give
the student the necessary mental gymnastics and make the reading and
playing of the various transposing instrumental parts comparatively
easy.
So much for the purely technical preparation in the process of learning
to read and transcribe scores.
The following headings are descriptive of a method of score preparation
generally used by modern conductors:
1. The Architectural or General Impression.
2. Detailed study of the individual parts.
3. Detailed study of individual sections (strings,
woodwinds, brass, and percussion).
4. Mental hearing of the composition in parts and as a whole.
5. Piano transcription as a means of checking up and
ratifying the mental concept.
When a building is viewed for the first time hardly anything more than
a general impression of the type of architecture, size, symmetry,
and color is made upon the mind. The details of construction,
materials used, number of floors, style of windows and doors are only
comprehended after closer study.
At the first perusal of a score, which should always be away from
the piano, the impression made is just as general as in viewing
the building. Hardly more than the contour of the melody and bass,
outstanding climaxes and general character can be grasped at the first
reading.
Next, a reading through either with or without piano, of each
individual part reveals the details of construction, and the playing
on the piano of the various sections gives the harmonic and polyphonic
content of the work. A practical knowledge of Instrumentation is most
helpful at this stage of the work.
After this detailed study, the work should be read through mentally
at about the speed of actual performance, the climaxes noted, the
emotional content determined, and a diagram of the form fixed in the
mind. There is always a danger of losing the perspective of the work
as a whole if too much detailed study is indulged in. The ability to
read and _hear_ music without the aid of an instrument is absolutely
essential for the conductor. It can be acquired to a degree by proper
study. Such works as Wedge’s “Sight Singing and Ear Training” (G.
Schirmer) and Robinson’s “Aural Harmony” (G. Schirmer) are invaluable
helps. “Musical Form” by H. Anger (Augener) is a most practical
treatise on the subject and contains clear instructions for analyzing
the piano Sonatas of Beethoven and the Fugues in Bach’s “Well-tempered
Clavichord.”
Upon being questioned as to his opinion of the importance of the
conductor’s “ears” or hearing, Wilhelm Furtwängler, the eminent German
conductor, made the following reply: “Generally considered, there is
no such thing among conductors as a good or bad ‘ear.’ There is only a
greater or lesser mastery of the material, that is, the score and its
every detail. One can only hear individual mistakes in the complicated
mass of sound when one knows completely just what the composer wanted.”
(Pult and Takstock, Dec., 1925).
Of course there are conductors who learn the content of a score quickly
from listening to the orchestra as they rehearse. But, it matters not
how clever the conductor is, his orchestra always senses when it is
being used as the means of their leader’s learning the score and their
respect for him is lowered. There is a fable of a young conductor who
wished to impress himself on his men by a display of sharp hearing.
He secretly wrote in a false =F♯= in the second bassoon part of a
particularly loud and boisterous passage. At the rehearsal in the midst
of the orchestral rumpus he suddenly stopped the orchestra and cried
out impatiently, “F sharp, F sharp in the second bassoon is wrong,”
only to be answered by the first player, “Beg pardon, Sir, the second
bassoon is absent today.”
To play a full score accurately and fluently on the piano, is an art
in itself and in the course of musical history we hear of only a few
musicians who really could do this. Saint-Saëns, Liszt, and Von Buelow
were said to be proficient in this difficult art, and undoubtedly
their marvelous piano technique was a most important factor in their
prima-vista score transcriptions. To fluently play a printed pianoforte
arrangement of a Beethoven Symphony takes as much technique as to play
one of his sonatas. We must not forget the comparative simplicity
of even a Wagner score when compared with such a work as Varese’s
“L’Amériques” or “The Rites of Spring” by Stravinsky, and it is just
likely that any of the three masters just mentioned would have great
difficulty in reading Honegger’s “Pacific 231” at the piano.
For the average conductor then, the piano does not become the supreme
channel for expressing the score, but is used merely as an aid to his
mental and spiritual master of its intricacies.
There still remains for discussion one phase in the work of score
preparation, and that is—memory. Just as among concert players the old
custom of playing from the printed page has given way to the one of
playing and singing everything from memory, so have modern conductors
taken to dispensing with their scores in performance.
The increased amount of preparatory work involved in memorizing a score
certainly gives one an increased insight into the composition and to
be freed from the necessity of reading the printed page gives a much
greater authority and command in the whole attitude of the conductor at
the performance. We never read of any great military commander leading
his troops to battle with his eyes glued on the map, and we have all
heard of the conductors who have their heads in the score when they
should have the score in their heads. Arturo Toscanini memorizes every
detail of the score before the first rehearsal and conducts even the
rehearsals from memory. This, of course, is such miraculous achievement
in the mastery of the purely technical that it ceases to be technique
and becomes an integral part of the conductor’s being.
The improved gramophone with the new process records of the great
orchestral, choral and operatic masterworks can be put to splendid
use by the student of conducting. Score in hand, these records should
be listened to until completely absorbed and then they should be
conducted. The operatic arias are particularly good practice for
practising the art of conducting accompaniments.
In concluding this chapter the following paragraph from Adrian Boult’s
“Handbook on the Technique of Conducting” is most fitting. He says, “In
conducting there is a double mental process. There is the process of
thinking ahead and preparing the orchestra for what is to come, that is
to say, of driving it like a locomotive. There is also the process of
listening and noting difficulties and points that must be altered, in
fact of watching the music, as a guard watches his train. At rehearsal
the second of these is the more important. Occasionally one must take
hold and drive one’s forces to the top of a climax, just as a boat’s
crew on the day before the race does one minute of its hardest racing,
but takes it pretty easy otherwise. The main thing at a rehearsal is to
watch results and to act on them. At a performance it is the other way
about—the conductor must take the lead. It is then too late to alter
things like faulty balance or wrong expression, but the structure and
balance of the work as a whole and the right spirit are the two things
of paramount importance.”
CHAPTER VII
THE TECHNIC OF THE BATON IN CHORAL CONDUCTING
There seems to be in the minds of some musicians an idea that a vast
difference exists between chorus conducting and orchestra conducting.
In fact, it is a very common fact that there are many fine musicians
who obtain excellent results from their choruses but who are completely
at a loss when it comes to conducting even the orchestral accompaniment
of the choral works they are presenting. The tales told by
sophisticated orchestral players on their return from music festivals
in the provinces about the antics of many choral conductors would be
funny if they were not tragic.
Usually, the choral conductor is a good musician and knows his musical
subject matter thoroughly. Through the process of much careful
rehearsing and teaching, he succeeds in imparting his ideas of
interpretation to his chorus, which in turn comes to understand the
meaning of his gestures. Up until the first orchestral rehearsal, which
is usually the only one, everything goes smoothly; but as soon as the
highly trained and sensitive orchestra tries to follow the conductor’s
beat, a state of utter chaos ensues. Much time is wasted, the conductor
becomes irritable, the chorus demoralized, the orchestra scornful, and
in general the outlook for a successful concert begins to look very
black. Finally, the more practical side of the orchestra rises above
the disgruntled and disillusioned attitude and it rescues the situation
by playing more in spite of the conductor rather than because of him.
This picture is not exaggerated and has almost a universal application.
The author, in his orchestral playing days, has witnessed such scenes
not only in the United States but also in France and Germany, and has
been told by competent authorities that the same conditions exist in
England. In fact, this little tale is one that will be verified by
almost every experienced orchestral musician.
The cause of much of this ineffective conducting is a profusion of
vague, meaningless (to the orchestral player) gestures on the part of
the choral conductor, who has gotten into the habit of making many
motions because of certain conditions peculiar to choruses and choral
music. First of these conditions is the average chorus member’s rather
low standard of musical ability, (in comparison with the professional
orchestra) which causes the conductor to lead his charges through
intricate rhythmical mazes by indicating every 32d note and beating out
the melodic contour rather than giving the basic beats and subdivision
of the beats. Secondly, the conductor usually has the assistance of
a good accompanist who plays the piano arrangement of the orchestral
score so efficiently that the conductor ceases to even think about it,
and who provides a firm rhythmical background by crisp and incisive
marking of the main beats of the measure. Naturally, the conductor
cannot change the habits acquired during many weeks of rehearsal and
when he finally finds himself in front of the critical professional
orchestra, he is confronted with the task of leading this complicated
organization with gestures engendered by the peculiar weaknesses of his
choral body and which are totally confusing to the strange orchestra.
There is only one remedy for this condition. _Directors of choruses
must remember that essentially there is no difference between
orchestral conducting and choral conducting, although there is a vast
difference between orchestral and choral training and rehearsing._ It
is not necessary to give the chorus a special gesture for each 32d note
of the melodic line. Chorus members will give a rhythmical performance
of a work only when they are made to feel the main pulsations of the
movement, and this can be accomplished only by using such established
gestures which clearly mark the fundamental rhythm. Naturally, such
gestures will easily be understood by the orchestral musicians as well
as by the chorus singers. Of course, this refers definitely to the
conducting of combined orchestral and choral forces. The conducting of
part songs accompanied or unaccompanied calls for a somewhat different
treatment.
In _A Capella_ music, the conductor usually dispenses with the baton
in order to gain more expressive freedom of both hands. In comparison
with a choral-orchestral composition, these part songs and polyphonic
choruses have but few individual parts and the conductor is not so much
concerned with the actual beating of time as with the subtle indication
of interpretative shades and meaning. Nevertheless, the author believes
that the fundamental gestures are a sufficiently comprehensive basis
for the most expressive type of conducting.
It is not the purpose of this chapter to enter into the details
of choral training and interpretation. Those subjects have been
admirably treated by other writers and for the chorus master seeking
truly authoritative advice in these matters, the following books are
recommended:
COWARD—_Choral Technic and Interpretation_ (Novello)
RUSSELL—_English Diction_ (Ditson)
HENDERSON—_The Singer’s Art._
MEES—_Choirs and Choir Music_
SCHWEITZER—_Bach_
NEWMAN FLOWER—_Handel_
PYNE—_Palestrina_
D’INDY—_Beethoven_
PRUNIERES—_Monteverdi_
The last five give invaluable hints on the proper interpretation of the
works of their respective subjects.
For teaching a chorus sight singing and proper vocal habits:
FRIEDLANDER-DAVISON—_Choral Exercises_ (Peters Ed.)
STAINER—_Choral Society Vocalization_ (Novello)
GRAVEURE-TREHARNE—_Superdiction_ (G. Schirmer)
This last gives the conductor highly valuable suggestions of methods to
obtain correct and effective diction.
CHAPTER VIII
“THE POINT OF THE BATON”
_A collection of significant paragraphs by various authorities on the
Art of Conducting._
“_Rhythm._ What is rhythm? We all know that music moves in beats or
pulses, and at regular intervals—say, at every two, three, or four
beats—some of these are stressed or accented. It is these accents
which produce rhythm; therefore rhythm may be defined as a pattern of
accents, or a phrase of pulses made characteristic by the effect of its
contrasted strong and weak accents. Rhythms may be observed even in
statuary and architecture. Rhythms may be regular, as when they follow
the time-signatures; and irregular, as when many syncopations are
introduced.”
* * * * *
“One of the distinguishing features of modern choral technique is what
I term ‘characterization,’ or realism, of the sentiment expressed in
the music.... Contrasts of tone-color, contrasts of differently placed
choirs, contrasts of sentiment—love, hate, hope, despair, joy, sorrow,
brightness, gloom, pity, scorn, prayer, praise, exaltation, depression,
laughter, tears—in fact all the emotions and passions are now expected
to be delineated by the voice alone. It may be said, in passing,
that in fulfilling these expectations choral singing has entered on
a new lease of life. Instead of the cry being raised that the choral
societies are doomed, we shall find that by absorbing the elixir of
characterization they have renewed their youth; and when the shallow
pleasures of the picture theatre and the empty elements of the variety
show have been discovered to be unsatisfying to the normal aspirations
of intellectual, moral beings, the social, healthful, stimulating,
intellectual, moral and spiritual uplift of the choral society will be
appreciated more than ever.”
* * * * *
“The first thing a conductor requires is self-reliance, born of mastery
of the subject he has to conduct and confidence in himself. If he is
nervous and apologetic, if, when he makes a slip, he feels crushed and
would like to sink through the floor, he had better leave conducting
alone. It is the confident, not-to-be-daunted man who is fit to be a
leader of men.”
* * * * *
“The conductor must take every precaution to make the rehearsals
interesting. The test of a society’s success is the popularity of the
rehearsals, and the test of the rehearsals is the feeling that if one
be not attended something in the way of enlightenment or pleasure has
been missed.”
* * * * *
“The man who lacks tact is not fit to be a conductor. Tact is the
lubricant that keeps the administrative machinery smoothly working when
heat and friction would otherwise arise.”
(_From “Choral Technique and Interpretation” by Coward_)
Novello
“Finally, one word more on the art of conducting itself. More and more
I have come to think that what decides the worth of conducting is the
degree of suggestive power that the conductor can exercise over the
performers. At the rehearsals he is mostly nothing more than a workman,
who schools the men under him so conscientiously and precisely that
each of them knows his place and what he has to do there; he first
becomes an artist when the moment comes for the production of the work.
Not even the most assiduous rehearsing, so necessary a pre-requisite
as this is, can so stimulate the capacities of the players as the
force imagination of the conductor. It is not the transference of his
personal will, but the mysterious act of creation that called the
work itself into being takes place again in him, and, transcending
the narrow limits of reproduction, he becomes a new-creator, a
self-creator. The more however his personality disappears so as to get
quite behind the personality that created the work,—to identify itself,
indeed, with this—the greater will his performance be.”
(_From “On Conducting” by Weingartner_)
Breitkopf & Härtel
* * * * *
_From Grove’s Dictionary_
“_Definition_—The word ‘conducting’ as used in a musical sense now
ordinarily refers to the activities of an orchestra or chorus leader
who stands before a group of performers and gives his entire time
and effort to directing their playing or singing, to the end that a
musically effective ensemble performance may result.
“This is accomplished by means of certain conventional movements of a
slender stick called a _baton_ (usually held in the right hand), as
well as through such changes of facial expression, bodily posture,
_et cetera_, as will convey to the singers or players the conductor’s
wishes concerning the rendition of the music.”
* * * * *
“Schumann was sadly wanting in the real talent for conducting. All who
ever saw him conduct or played under his direction are agreed on this
point. Irrespective of the fact that conducting for any length of time
tired him out, he had neither the collectedness and prompt presence of
mind, nor the sympathetic faculty, nor the enterprising dash, without
each of which conducting in the true sense is impossible. He even
found difficulty in starting at a given tempo; nay, he even sometimes
shrank from giving any initial beat, so that some energetic pioneer
would begin without waiting for the signal, and without incurring
Schumann’s wrath! Besides this, any thorough practice, bit by bit, with
his orchestra, with instructive remarks by the way as to the mode of
execution, was impossible to this great artist, who in this respect
was a striking contrast to Mendelssohn. He would have a piece played
through, and it did not answer to his wishes, have it repeated. If it
went no better the second or perhaps third time, he would be extremely
angry at what he considered the clumsiness, or even the ill-will of the
players, but detailed remarks he never made.”
It must not be imagined that if one is fortunate enough to acquire
the style of handling the baton which we have been advocating, one
will at once achieve success as a conductor. The factors of musical
scholarship, personal magnetism, et cetera, mentioned in preceding
pages, must still constitute the real foundation of conducting.
But granting the presence of these other factors of endowment and
preparation, one may often achieve a higher degree of success if one
has developed also a well-defined and easily-followed beat. It is for
this reason that the technique of time-beating is worthy of some degree
of serious investigation and of a reasonable amount of time spent in
practice upon it.
* * * * *
_As quoted from Wagner_—
“The whole duty of the conductor is comprised in his ability always
to indicate the right tempo. His choice of tempi will show whether he
understands the piece or not.... The true tempo induces correct force
and expression....
“Obviously the proper pace of a piece of music is determined by the
particular character of the rendering it requires. The question
therefore comes to this: Does the sustained, the cantilena,
predominate, or the rhythmical movement? The conductor should lead
accordingly.”
* * * * *
_As quoted from Weingartner._
“He should know it (the score) so thoroughly that during the
performance the score is merely a support for his memory, not a fetter
on his thought.”
* * * * *
“A good rule to follow is this: ‘Talk little at the rehearsal, but when
you do talk, be sure that every one listens.’”
(_From “Essentials in Conducting” by Gehrkens._)
Oliver Ditson Company.
* * * * *
_Remarks by Dr. H. Kretzschmar_
“Everything depends upon the question as to who stands at the head and
how the rehearsals are conducted. Wherever one piece after the other
is disposed of with the aid of piano thumping, singing must soon come
to an end. The training, or at least the supervision of the individual
member must form the foundation of choral activity, and the performance
and study of accompanied compositions must constitute only half of the
work. Constant practice in _a capella_ singing is indispensable. It is
this that trains the ear and teaches vocalisation just as well as, if
not better than the study of solos in which half the faults are hidden
and half the trouble saved for the less gifted by the piano.
“A choral society which now and then sings a few movements by
Palestrina or a fine madrigal will give a more beautiful performance
of a Handel oratorio than one whose sense for tone has not been
independently awakened.”
(_As quoted in “Choirs and Choral Music” by Arthur Mees_)
* * * * *
“A Conductor who desires to organize a choral society must bear in
mind: First—that he needs to make many friends; then to do all in
his power to keep them; Second—that he must expect active opposition
from other professionals, passive resistance from lazy singers, and
discouragement from a considerable class of people who never can
see how anything worth while in choral music can be done in their
community. They are sometimes ‘dog-in-the-manger’ people; usually
pessimists. This last mentioned class (the pessimists) are perhaps
the most dangerous of all. They should be carefully kept out of the
ranks of the society, for their conversation and manner are most
demoralizing. One such member can do more to kill a society than half a
dozen enthusiasts can do to keep it alive. The Conductor, as organizer,
should bear in mind that the indolent may be stirred upon and possibly
converted into willing and effective workers. If the Conductor is made
of the right sort of material the pessimists will not discourage _him_,
while the jealous opposition of other professionals will but stir him
to greater efforts.”
(_From “Choir and Chorus Conducting” by F. W. Wodell_)
* * * * *
“Remember, in conducting, that your thought and gestures will almost
certainly be too late rather than too early. Anticipate everything.
“When actually conducting never think of technique; it is loo late by
that time. It is your job to impress what you want on the orchestra and
choir somehow. How you do it is a matter for consideration afterwards,
or better still, beforehand.”
* * * * *
“A great many qualities are needed to conduct rehearsals successfully.
The two most important things are to see that everybody is happy and
comfortable and to waste no time. Never stop the orchestra to say
what you can show with a gesture. If a passage is going very badly,
persevere with it to the end of the section, then point out all the
mistakes and take it right through again if there is time. Continual
stoppages irritate everybody and waste a great deal of time.”
* * * * *
“An enormous amount of time in rehearsing can be saved by preparation
of the copies, and here the conductor must never spare his own time in
seeing that the parts, if in manuscript, are clear and their expression
marks uniform, that the lettering is consistent and that the letters
are in places where they will be wanted for rehearsal. Everything
possible should be marked in the parts beforehand. It is almost always
the conductor’s fault if he has to ask the orchestra to mark anything
at a rehearsal, unless he has unlimited time for this.”
(_From “A Handbook on the Technique of Conducting” by Adrian C.
Boult._)
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BOOKS ESSENTIAL TO THE BROADER MUSICAL CULTURE OF THE CONDUCTOR
ON CONDUCTING
(General)
GEHRKENS: Essentials in Conducting _O. Ditson_
SCHROEDER: Handbook of Conducting _Augener_
WAGNER: On Conducting _Reeves_
WEINGARTNER: On Conducting _Breitkopf & Härtel_
BERLIOZ: The Orchestral Conductor _Carl Fischer, Inc._
BOULT, ADRIAN: A Handbook on the
Technique of Conducting _Reeves_
EARHART: The Eloquent Baton _Witmark_
SCHMID: The Language of the Baton _Schirmer_
SCHERCHEN: Handbook on Conducting _Oxford_
ON SCORE READING
GAL, H.: Directions for Score Reading _Philharmonia_
RIEMANN, HUGO: Introduction to Playing from Score _Augener_
MORRIS-FERGUSON: Preparatory Exercises in Score Reading _Oxford_
ON CHORAL CONDUCTING
COWARD: Choral Technique and Interpretation _Novello_
WODELL: Choir and Chorus Conducting _Presser_
BRENNAN: Words in Singing _Vincent Music Co._
COLEMAN: Amateur Choir Training _Oxford_
COLEMAN: Conducting for Women’s Institutes _Oxford_
ON INSTRUMENTATION
FORSYTH: Orchestration _Macmillan_
JACOB: Orchestral Technique _Oxford_
KLING: Modern Orchestration and Instrumentation _Carl Fischer, Inc._
HISTORY OF MUSIC
PRATT: The History of Music _Schirmer_
DICKINSON: The Study of the History of Music _Scribner_
COLLES: The Growth of Music _Oxford_
STANFORD & FORSYTH: A History of Music _Macmillan_
PARRY: The Evolution of the Art of Music _Appleton_
BAUER & PEYSER: How Music Grew _Putnam_
HADOW: Oxford History of Music (7 Vols.) _Oxford_
PARKHURST: Beginnings of the World’s Music _Carl Fischer, Inc._
SCHOLES: Miniature History of Music _Oxford_
BIOGRAPHY
D’INDY: Beethoven _Boston Music Co._
BEKKER: Beethoven _Dutton_
THAYER-KREHBIEL: Beethoven _G. Schirmer_
PARRY: Bach _Putnam_
SPITTA: Bach _Novello_
HENDERSON: Wagner _Putnam_
JAHN: Mozart _Novello_
NEWMARCH: Tchaikovsky _Chester_
ENGEL: Alla Breve—Thumb Nail Sketches
of the Great Composers _G. Schirmer_
PRUNIERES: Monteverdi _Dutton_
TERRY: Bach _Oxford_
WOTTON: Berlioz _Oxford_
GRAY: Sibelius _Oxford_
BONAVIA: Verdi _Oxford_
CLOSSON: The Fleming in Beethoven _Oxford_
BRENET: Haydn _Oxford_
INTERPRETATION
MATTHAY: Musical Interpretation _B. M. C._
APPRECIATION AND ANALYSIS
ERB: Music Appreciation for the Student _G. Schirmer_
SCHOLES: The Listener’s Guide _Oxford_
MASON: From Song to Symphony _Ditson_
GEHRKENS: The Fundamentals of Music _Ditson_
SOMERVELL: The Musical Pilgrim Handbooks _Oxford_
ANGER: Musical Form _Vincent_
CALVOCORESSI: Musical Criticism _Oxford_
SCHOLES-EARHART: Book of Great Musicians
(in 3 Vols, or cplt. in 1 Vol.) _Oxford_
WEST: Sign Posts to Music _Carl Fischer, Inc._
WEST: Work Book to above _Carl Fischer, Inc._
HARMONY
KITSON: The Evolution of Harmony _Oxford_
BARNES: Practice in Modern Harmony _Oxford_
PARKHURST: Complete System of Harmony _Carl Fischer, Inc._
RIMSKY-KORSAKOFF: Practical Manual of Harmony _Carl Fischer, Inc._
SCHOLES: Beginner’s Guide to Harmony _Oxford_
COUNTERPOINT
KITSON: The Art of Counterpoint _Oxford_
KITSON: Applied Strict Counterpoint _Oxford_
MORRIS: Contrapuntal Technique in the 16th Century _Oxford_
PROUT: Counterpoint, Strict and Free _Augener_
PROUT: Double Counterpoint and Canon _Augener_
GENERAL
HAMILTON: Sound and Its Relation to Music _Ditson_
BUCK: The Scope of Music _Oxford_
MADDY & GIDDINGS: Instrumental Technique
(for School Bands and Orchestras) _Willis_
JOHNSTONE: Instruments of the Modern Symphony
Orchestra and Band _Carl Fischer, Inc._
JACOB: Musical Handwriting _Oxford_
LLOYD: Music and Sound _Oxford_
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
A Brief Outline of the Development of Conducting 1