CHOPIN AS A TEACHER: HIS SUCCESS OR WANT OF SUCCESS AS SUCH; HIS PUPILS,
AMATEUR AND PROFESSIONAL; METHOD OF TEACHING; AND TEACHING REPERTOIRE.
As Chopin rarely played in public and could not make a comfortable
living by his compositions, there remained nothing for him but to teach,
which, indeed, he did till his strength forsook him. But so far from
regarding teaching as a burden, says his pupil Mikuli, he devoted
himself to it with real pleasure. Of course, a teacher can only
take pleasure in teaching when he has pupils of the right sort. This
advantage, however, Chopin may have enjoyed to a greater extent than
most masters, for according to all accounts it was difficult to be
received as a pupil--he by no means gave lessons to anyone who asked for
them. As long as he was in fair health, he taught during the season from
four to five hours a day, in later years only, or almost only, at home.
His fee for a lesson was twenty francs, which were deposited by the
pupil on the mantelpiece.
Was Chopin a good teacher? His pupils without exception most positively
affirm it. But outsiders ask: How is it, then, that so great a virtuoso
has not trained players who have made the world ring with their fame?
Mr. Halle, whilst pointing out the fact that Chopin's pupils have not
distinguished themselves, did not wish to decide whether this was owing
to a deficiency in the master or to some other cause. Liszt, in speaking
to me on this subject, simply remarked: "Chopin was unfortunate in his
pupils--none of them has become a player of any importance, although
some of his noble pupils played very well." If we compare Liszt's
pianistic offspring with Chopin's, the difference is indeed striking.
But here we have to keep in mind several considerations--Chopin taught
for a shorter period than Liszt; most of his pupils, unlike Liszt's,
were amateurs; and he may not have met with the stuff out of which great
virtuosos are made. That Chopin was unfortunate in his pupils may
be proved by the early death of several very promising ones. Charles
Filtsch, born at Hermannstadt, Transylvania (Hungary), about 1830, of
whom Liszt and Lenz spoke so highly (see Chapter XXVI.), died on May
11, 1845, at Venice, after having in 1843 made a sensation in London and
Vienna, both by the poetical and technical qualities of his playing. In
London "little Filtsch" played at least twice in public (on June 14 at
the St. James's Theatre between two plays, and on July 4 at a matinee
of his own at the Hanover Square Rooms), repeatedly in private, and had
also the honour to appear before the Queen at Buckingham Palace. J. W.
Davison relates in his preface to Chopin's mazurkas and waltzes (Boosey
& Co.) a circumstance which proves the young virtuoso's musicianship.
"Engaged to perform Chopin's second concerto in public, the orchestral
parts not being obtainable, Filtsch, nothing dismayed, wrote out the
whole of them from memory." Another short-lived great talent was Paul
Gunsberg. "This young man," Madame Dubois informed me, "was endowed
with an extraordinary organisation. Chopin had made of him an admirable
executant. He died of consumption, otherwise he would have become
celebrated." I do not know in which year Gunsberg died. He was still
alive on May 11, 1855. For on that day he played with his fellow-pupil
Tellefsen, at a concert given by the latter in Paris, a duet of
Schumann's. A third pupil of Chopin prematurely snatched away by death
was Caroline Hartmann, the daughter of a manufacturer, born at Munster,
near Colmar, in 1808. She came to Paris in 1833, and died the year
after--of love for Chopin, as Edouard Wolff told me. Other authorities,
however, ascribe the sad effect to a less romantic cause. They say that
through persevering study under the direction of Chopin and Liszt she
became an excellent pianist, but that the hard work brought on a chest
complaint to which she succumbed on July 30, 1834. The GAZETTE MUSICALE
of August 17, 1834, which notices her death, describes her as a pupil
of Liszt, Chopin, and Pixis, without commenting on her abilities. Spohr
admired her as a child. But if Chopin has not turned out virtuosos of
the calibre of Tausig and Hans von Bulow, he has nevertheless formed
many very clever pianists. It would serve no purpose except that
of satisfying idle curiosity to draw up a list of all the master's
ascertainable pupils. Those who wish, however, to satisfy this idle
curiosity can do so to some extent by scanning the dedications of
Chopin's works, as the names therein to be found--with a few and mostly
obvious exceptions--are those of pupils. The array of princesses,
countesses, &c., will, it is to be hoped, duly impress the investigator.
Let us hear what the illustrious master Marmontel has to say on this
subject:--
Among the pianist-composers who have had the immense advantage
of taking lessons from Chopin, to impregnate themselves with
his style and manner, we must cite Gutmann, Lysberg, and our
dear colleague G. Mathias. The Princesses de Chimay,
Czartoryska, the Countesses Esterhazy, Branicka, Potocka, de
Kalergis, d'Est; Mdlles. Muller and de Noailles were his
cherished disciples [disciples affectionnees]. Madame Dubois,
nee O'Meara, is also one of his favourite pupils [eleves de
predilection], and numbers among those whose talent has best
preserved the characteristic traditions and procedures
[procedes] of the master.
Two of Chopin's amateur and a few more of his professional pupils ought
to be briefly noticed here--first and chiefly of the amateurs, the
Princess Marcelline Czartoryska, who has sometimes played in public for
charitable purposes, and of whom it has often been said that she is the
most faithful transmitter of her master's style. Would the praise which
is generally lavished upon her have been so enthusiastic if the lady
had been a professional pianist instead of a princess? The question is
ungracious in one who has not had the pleasure of hearing her, but not
unnaturally suggests itself. Be this as it may, that she is, or was,
a good player, who as an intimate friend and countrywoman thoroughly
entered into the spirit of her master's music, seems beyond question.
[FOOTNOTE: "The Princess Marcelline Czartoryska," wrote Sowinski in
1857 in the article "Chopin" of his "Musicien polonais," "who has a
fine execution, seems to have inherited Chopin's ways of procedure,
especially in phrasing and accentuation. Lately the Princess performed
at Paris with much success the magnificent F minor Concerto at a concert
for the benefit of the poor." A critic, writing in the Gazette Musicale
of March 11, 1855, of a concert given by the Princess--at which she
played an andante with variations for piano and violoncello by Mozart,
a rondo for piano and orchestra by Mendelssohn, and Chopin's F minor
Concerto, being assisted by Alard as conductor, the violoncellist
Franchomme, and the singers Madame Viardot and M. Fedor--praised
especially her rendering of the ADAGIO in Chopin's Concerto. Lenz was
the most enthusiastic admirer of the Princess I have met with. He calls
her (in the Berliner Musikzeitung, Vol. XXVI) a highly-gifted nature,
the best pupil [Schulerin] of Chopin, and the incarnation of her
master's pianoforte style. At a musical party at the house of the Counts
Wilhorski at St. Petersburg, where she performed a waltz and the Marche
funebre by Chopin, her playing made such an impression that it was
thought improper to have any more music on that evening, the trio of
the march having, indeed, moved the auditors to tears. The Princess told
Lenz that on one occasion when Chopin played to her this trio, she fell
on her knees before him and felt unspeakably happy.]
G. Chouquet reminded me not to omit to mention among Chopin's pupils
Madame Peruzzi, the wife of the ambassador of the Duke of Tuscany to the
court of Louis Philippe:--
This virtuosa [wrote to me the late keeper of the Musee of the
Paris Conservatoire] had no less talent than the Princess
Marcelline Czartoryska. I heard her at Florence in 1852, and I
can assure you that she played Chopin's music in the true
style and with all the unpublished traits of the master. She
was of Russian origin.
But enough of amateurs. Mdlle. Friederike Muller, now for many years
married to the Viennese pianoforte-maker J. B. Streicher, is regarded
by many as the most, and is certainly one of the most gifted of Chopin's
favourite pupils. [FOOTNOTE: She played already in public at Vienna
in the fourth decade of this century, which must have been before her
coming to Paris (see Eduard Hanslick, Geschichte des Concertwesens in
Wien, p. 326). Marriage brought the lady's professional career to a
close.] That the composer dedicated to her his Allegro de Concert,
Op. 46, may be regarded as a mark of his love and esteem for her. Carl
Mikuli found her assistance of great importance in the preparation of
his edition of Chopin's works, as she had received lessons from the
master for several years, and, moreover, had had many opportunities
of hearing him on other occasions. The same authority refers to Madame
Dubois (nee O'Meara) [FOOTNOTE: A relation of Edward Barry O'Meara,
physician to the first Napoleon at St. Helena, and author of "Napoleon
in Exile."] and to Madame Rubio (NEE Vera de Kologrivof) as to "two
extremely excellent pianists [hochst ausgezeichnete Pianistinnen] whose
talent enjoyed the advantage of the master's particular care." The
latter lady was taught by Chopin from 1842 to 1849, and in the last
years of his life assisted him, as we shall see, by taking partial
charge of some of his pupils. Madame Dubois, who studied under
Kalkbrenner from the age of nine to thirteen, became then a pupil of
Chopin, with whom she remained five years. It was very difficult to
obtain his consent to take another pupil, but the influence of M.
Albrecht, a common friend of her father's and Chopin's, stood her in
good stead. Although I heard her play only one or two of her master's
minor pieces, and under very unfavourable circumstances too--namely, at
the end of the teaching season and in a tropical heat--I may say that
her suave touch, perfect legato, and delicate sentiment seemed to me to
bear out the above-quoted remark of M. Marmontel. Madame Dubois, who is
one of the most highly-esteemed teachers of the piano in Paris, used to
play till recently in public, although less frequently in later than in
earlier years. And here I must extract a passage from Madame Girardin's
letter of March 7, 1847, in Vol. IV. of "Le Vicomte de Launay," where,
after describing Mdlle. O'Meara's beauty, more especially her Irish
look--"that mixture of sadness and serenity, of profound tenderness and
shy dignity, which you never find in the proud and brilliant looks which
you admire in the women of other nations "--she says:--
We heard her a few hours ago; she played in a really superior
way the beautiful Concerto of Chopin in E flat minor [of
course E minor]; she was applauded with enthusiasm. [FOOTNOTE:
Chopin accompanied on a second piano. The occasion was a
soiree at the house of Madame de Courbonne.] All we can say to
give you an idea of Mdlle. O'Meara's playing is that there is
in her playing all that is in her look, and in addition to it
an admirable method, and excellent fingering. Her success has
been complete; in hearing her, statesmen were moved... and the
young ladies, those who are good musicians, forgave her her
prettiness.
As regards Chopin's male pupils, we have to note George Mathias (born
at Paris in 1826), the well-known professor of the piano at the Paris
Conservatoire, [FOOTNOTE: He retired a year or two ago.] and still
more widely-known composer of more than half-a-hundred important works
(sonatas, trios, concertos, symphonic compositions, pianoforte pieces,
songs, &c.), who enjoyed the master's teaching from 1839 to 1844;
Lysberg (1821-1873), whose real name was Charles Samuel Bovy, for many
years professor of the piano at the Conservatoire of his native town,
Geneva, and a very fertile composer of salon pieces for the piano
(composer also of a one-act comic opera, La Fills du Carillonneur),
distinguished by "much poetic feeling, an extremely careful form, an
original colouring, and in which one often seems to see pass a breath
of Weber or Chopin"; [FOOTNOTE: Supplement et Complement to Fetis'
Biographie universelle des Musiciens, published under the direction of
Arthur Pougin.] the Norwegian Thomas Dyke Acland Tellefsen (1823-1874),
a teacher of the piano in Paris and author of an edition of Chopin's
works; Carl Mikuli (born at Czernowitz in 1821), since 1858 artistic
director of the Galician Musical Society (conservatoire, concerts, &c.),
and author of an edition of Chopin's works; and Adolph Gutmann, the
master's favourite pupil par excellence, of whom we must speak somewhat
more at length. Karasowski makes also mention of Casimir Wernik, who
died at St. Petersburg in 1859, and of Gustav Schumann, a teacher of the
piano at Berlin, who, however, was only during the winter of 1840-1841
with the Polish master. For Englishmen the fact of the late Brinley
Richards and Lindsay Sloper having been pupils of Chopin--the one for a
short, the other for a longer period--will be of special interest.
Adolph Gutmann was a boy of fifteen when in 1834 his father brought
him to Paris to place him under Chopin. The latter, however, did not at
first feel inclined to accept the proposed trust; but on hearing the boy
play he conceived so high an idea of his capacities that he agreed to
undertake his artistic education. Chopin seems to have always retained
a thorough belief in his muscular pupil, although some of his great
pianist friends thought this belief nothing but a strange delusion.
There are also piquant anecdotes told by fellow-pupils with the purpose
of showing that Chopin did not care very much for him. For instance, the
following: Some one asked the master how his pupil was getting on, "Oh,
he makes very good chocolate," was the answer. Unfortunately, I cannot
speak of Gutmann's playing from experience, for although I spent eight
days with him, it was on a mountain-top in the Tyrol, where there were
no pianos. But Chopin's belief in Gutmann counts with me for something,
and so does Moscheles' reference to him as Chopin's "excellent pupil";
more valuable, I think, than either is the evidence of Dr. A. C.
Mackenzie, who at my request visited Gutmann several times in Florence
and was favourably impressed by his playing, in which he noticed
especially beauty of tone combined with power. As far as I can make
out Gutmann planned only once, in 1846, a regular concert-tour, being
furnished for it by Chopin with letters of introduction to the
highest personages in Berlin, Warsaw, and St. Petersburg. Through the
intervention of the Countess Rossi (Henriette Sontag), he was invited to
play at a court-concert at Charlottenburg in celebration of the King's
birthday. [FOOTNOTE: His part of the programme consisted of his master's
E minor Concerto (2nd and 3rd movements) and No. 3 of the first book of
studies, and his own tenth study.] But the day after the concert he
was seized with such home-sickness that he returned forthwith to Paris,
where he made his appearance to the great astonishment of Chopin.
The reader may perhaps be interested in what a writer in the Gazette
Musicale said about Chopin's favourite pupil on March 24, 1844:--
M. Gutmann is a pianist with a neat but somewhat cold style of
playing; he has what one calls fingers, and uses them with
much dexterity. His manner of proceeding is rather that of
Thalberg than of the clever professor who has given him
lessons. He afforded pleasure to the lovers of the piano
[amateurs de piano] at the musical SOIREE which he gave last
Monday at M. Erard's. Especially his fantasia on the
"Freischutz" was applauded.
Of course, the expression of any individual opinion is no conclusive
proof. Gutmann was so successful as a teacher and in a way also as
a composer (his compositions, I may say in passing, were not in his
master's but in a light salon style) that at a comparatively early
period of his life he was able to retire from his profession. After
travelling for some time he settled at Florence, where he invented the
art, or, at least, practised the art which he had previously invented,
of painting with oil-colours on satin. He died at Spezzia on October 27,
1882.
[FOOTNOTE: The short notice of Gutmann in Fetis' Biographie Universelle
des Musiciens, and those of the followers of this by no means infallible
authority, are very incorrect. Adolfo Gutmann, Riccordi Biografici,
by Giulio Piccini (Firenze: Guiseppe Polverini, 1881), reproduces to a
great extent the information contained in Der Lieblingsschuler Chopin's
in Bernhard Stavenow's Schone Geister (Bremen: Kuhlmann, 1879), both
which publications, eulogistic rather than biographical, were inspired
by Gutmann.]
Whatever interest the reader may have taken in this survey of Chopin's
pupils, he is sure to be more deeply interested by the account of the
master's manner and method of teaching. Such an account, which would be
interesting in the case of any remarkable virtuoso who devoted himself
to instruction, is so in a higher degree in that of Chopin: first,
because it may help us to solve the question why so unique a virtuoso
did not form a single eminent concert-player; secondly, because it
throws still further light on his character as a man and artist; and
thirdly, because, as Mikuli thinks may be asserted without exaggeration,
"only Chopin's pupils knew the pianist in the fulness of his unrivalled
height." The materials at my disposal are abundant and not less
trustworthy than abundant. My account is based chiefly on the
communications made to me by a number of the master's pupils--notably,
Madame Dubois, Madame Rubio, M. Mathias, and Gutmann--and on Mikuli's
excellent preface to his edition of Chopin's works. When I have drawn
upon other sources, I have not done so without previous examination
and verification. I may add that I shall use as far as possible the
ipsissima verba of my informants:--
As to Chopin's method of teaching [wrote to me M. Mathias], it
was absolutely of the old legato school, of the school of
Clementi and Cramer. Of course, he had enriched it by a great
variety of touch [d'une grande variete dans l'attaque de la
touche]; he obtained a wonderful variety of tone and NUANCES
of tone; in passing I may tell you that he had an
extraordinary vigour, but only by flashes [ce ne pouvait etre
que par eclairs].
The Polish master, who was so original in many ways, differed from his
confreres even in the way of starting his pupils. With him the normal
position of the hand was not that above the keys c, d, e, f, g (i.e.,
above five white keys), but that above the keys e, f sharp, g sharp, a
sharp, b (I.E., above two white keys and three black keys, the latter
lying between the former). The hand had to be thrown lightly on the
keyboard so as to rest on these keys, the object of this being to secure
for it not only an advantageous, but also a graceful position:--
[FOOTNOTE: Kleczynski, in Chopin: De l'interpretation de ses
oeuvres--Trois conferences faites a Varsovie, says that he was told by
several of the master's pupils that the latter sometimes held his hands
absolutely flat. When I asked Madame Dubois about the correctness of
this statement, she replied: "I never noticed Chopin holding his hands
flat." In short, if Chopin put his hands at any time in so awkward a
position, it was exceptional; physical exhaustion may have induced him
to indulge in such negligence when the technical structure of the music
he was playing permitted it.]
Chopin [Madame Dubois informed me] made his pupils begin with
the B major scale, very slowly, without stiffness. Suppleness
was his great object. He repeated, without ceasing, during the
lesson: "Easily, easily" [facilement, facilement]. Stiffness
exasperated him.
How much stiffness and jerkiness exasperated him may be judged from what
Madame Zaleska related to M. Kleczynski. A pupil having played somewhat
carelessly the arpeggio at the beginning of the first study (in A flat
major) of the second book of Clementi's Preludes et Exercices, the
master jumped from his chair and exclaimed: "What is that? Has a dog
been barking?" [Qu'est-ce? Est-ce un chien qui vient d'aboyer?] The
rudeness of this exclamation will, no doubt, surprise. But polite as
Chopin generally was, irritation often got the better of him, more
especially in later years when bad health troubled him. Whether he ever
went the length of throwing the music from the desk and breaking chairs,
as Karasowski says, I do not know and have not heard confirmed by
any pupil. Madame Rubio, however, informed me that Chopin was very
irritable, and when teaching amateurs used to have always a packet of
pencils about him which, to vent his anger, he silently broke into bits.
Gutmann told me that in the early stages of his discipleship Chopin
sometimes got very angry, and stormed and raged dreadfully; but
immediately was kind and tried to soothe his pupil when he saw him
distressed and weeping.
To be sure [writes Mikuli], Chopin made great demands on the
talent and diligence of the pupil. Consequently, there were
often des lecons orageuses, as it was called in the school
idiom, and many a beautiful eye left the high altar of the
Cite d'Orleans, Rue St. Lazare, bedewed with tears, without,
on that account, ever bearing the dearly-beloved master the
least grudge. For was not the severity which was not easily
satisfied with anything, the feverish vehemence with which the
master wished to raise his disciples to his own stand-point,
the ceaseless repetition of a passage till it was understood,
a guarantee that he had at heart the progress of the pupil? A
holy artistic zeal burnt in him then, every word from his lips
was incentive and inspiring. Single lessons often lasted
literally for hours at a stretch, till exhaustion overcame
master and pupil.
Indeed, the pupils were so far from bearing their master the least
grudge that, to use M. Marmontel's words, they had more for him than
admiration: a veritable idolatry. But it is time that after this
excursion--which hardly calls for an excuse--we return to the more
important part of our subject, the master's method of teaching.
What concerned Chopin most at the commencement of his
instruction [writes Mikuli] was to free the pupil from every
stiffness and convulsive, cramped movement of the hand, and to
give him thus the first condition of a beautiful style of
playing, souplesse (suppleness), and with it independence of
the fingers. He taught indefatigably that the exercises in
question were no mere mechanical ones, but called for the
intelligence and the whole will of the pupil, on which account
twenty and even forty thoughtless repetitions (up to this time
the arcanum of so many schools) do no good at all, still less
the practising during which, according to Kalkbrenner's
advice, one may occupy one's self simultaneously with some
kind of reading(!).
He feared above all [remarked Madame Dubois to me] the
abrutissement of the pupils. One day he heard me say that I
practised six hours a day. He became quite angry, and forbade
me to practise more than three hours. This was also the advice
of Hummel in his pianoforte school.
To resume Mikuli's narrative:--
Chopin treated very thoroughly the different kinds of touch,
especially the full-toned [tonvolle] legato.
[FOOTNOTE: Karasowski says that Chopin demanded absolutely
from his pupils that they should practise the exercises, and
especially the scales in major and minor, from piano to
fortissimo, staccato as well as legato, and also with a change
of accent, which was to be now on the second, now on the
third, now on the fourth note. Madame Dubois, on the other
hand, is sure she was never told by her master to play the
scales staccato.]
"As gymnastic helps he recommended the bending inward and
outward of the wrist, the repeated touch from the wrist, the
extending of the fingers, but all this with the earnest
warning against over-fatigue. He made his pupils play the
scales with a full tone, as connectedly as possible, very
slowly and only gradually advancing to a quicker TEMPO, and
with metronomic evenness. The passing of the thumb under the
other fingers and the passing of the latter over the former
was to be facilitated by a corresponding turning inward of the
hand. The scales with many black keys (B, F sharp, and D flat)
were first studied, and last, as the most difficult, C major.
In the same sequence he took up Clementi's Preludes et
Exercices, a work which for its utility he esteemed very
highly."
[FOOTNOTE: Kleczynski writes that whatever the degree of
instruction was which Chopin's pupils brought with them, they
had all to play carefully besides the scales the second book
of Clementi's Preludes et Exercices, especially the first in A
flat major.]
According to Chopin the evenness of the scales (also of the
arpeggios) not merely depended on the utmost equal
strengthening of all fingers by means of five-finger exercises
and on a thumb entirely free at the passing under and over,
but rather on a lateral movement (with the elbow hanging quite
down and always easy) of the hand, not by jerks, but
continuously and evenly flowing, which he tried to illustrate
by the glissando over the keyboard. Of studies he gave after
this a selection of Cramer's Etudes, Clementi's Gradus ad
Parnassum, Moscheles' style-studies for the higher development
(which were very sympathetic to him), and J. S. Bach's suites
and some fugues from Das wohltemperirte Clavier. In a certain
way Field's and his own nocturnes numbered likewise with the
studies, for in them the pupil was--partly by the apprehension
of his explanations, partly by observation and imitation (he
played them to the pupil unweariedly)--to learn to know, love,
and execute the beautiful smooth [gebundene] vocal tone and
the legato.
[FOOTNOTE: This statement can only be accepted with much
reserve. Whether Chopin played much or little to his pupil
depended, no doubt, largely on the mood and state of health he
was in at the time, perhaps also on his liking or disliking
the pupil. The late Brinley Richards told me that when he had
lessons from Chopin, the latter rarely played to him, making
his corrections and suggestions mostly by word of mouth.]
With double notes and chords he demanded most strictly
simultaneous striking, breaking was only allowed when it was
indicated by the composer himself; shakes, which he generally
began with the auxiliary note, had not so much to be played
quick as with great evenness the conclusion of the shake
quietly and without precipitation. For the turn (gruppetto)
and the appoggiatura he recommended the great Italian singers
as models. Although he made his pupils play octaves from the
wrist, they must not thereby lose in fulness of tone.
All who have had the good fortune to hear Chopin play agree in declaring
that one of the most distinctive features of his style of execution was
smoothness, and smoothness, as we have seen in the foregoing notes, was
also one of the qualities on which he most strenuously insisted in the
playing of his pupils. The reader will remember Gutmann's statement to
me, mentioned in a previous chapter, that all his master's fingering
was calculated for the attainment of this object. Fingering is the
mainspring, the determining principle, one might almost say the life and
soul, of the pianoforte technique. We shall, therefore, do well to give
a moment's consideration to Chopin's fingering, especially as he was one
of the boldest and most influential revolutionisers of this important
department of the pianistic art. His merits in this as in other
respects, his various claims to priority of invention, are only too
often overlooked. As at one time all ameliorations in the theory and
practice of music were ascribed to Guido of Arezzo, so it is nowadays
the fashion to ascribe all improvements and extensions of the pianoforte
technique to Liszt, who more than any other pianist drew upon himself
the admiration of the world, and who through his pupils continued to
make his presence felt even after the close of his career as a virtuoso.
But the cause of this false opinion is to be sought not so much in
the fact that the brilliancy of his artistic personality threw all his
contemporaries into the shade, as in that other fact, that he gathered
up into one web the many threads new and old which he found floating
about during the years of his development. The difference between
Liszt and Chopin lies in this, that the basis of the former's art is
universality, that of the latter's, individuality. Of the fingering of
the one we may say that it is a system, of that of the other that it
is a manner. Probably we have here also touched on the cause of Liszt's
success and Chopin's want of success as a teacher. I called Chopin a
revolutioniser of fingering, and, I think, his full enfranchisement of
the thumb, his breaking-down of all distinctions of rank between
the other fingers, in short, the introduction of a liberty sometimes
degenerating into licence, justifies the expression. That this master's
fingering is occasionally eccentric (presupposing peculiarly flexible
hands and a peculiar course of study) cannot be denied; on the whole,
however, it is not only well adapted for the proper rendering of his
compositions, but also contains valuable contributions to a universal
system of fingering. The following particulars by Mikuli will be read
with interest, and cannot be misunderstood after what has just now been
said on the subject:--
In the notation of fingering, especially of that peculiar to
himself, Chopin was not sparing. Here pianoforte-playing owes
him great innovations which, on account of their expedience,
were soon adopted, notwithstanding the horror with which
authorities like Kalkbrenner at first regarded them. Thus, for
instance, Chopin used without hesitation the thumb on the
black keys, passed it even under the little finger (it is
true, with a distinct inward bend of the wrist), if this could
facilitate the execution and give it more repose and evenness.
With one and the same finger he took often two consecutive
keys (and this not only in gliding down from a black to the
next white key) without the least interruption of the sequence
being noticeable. The passing over each other of the longer
fingers without the aid of the thumb (see Etude, No. 2, Op.
10) he frequently made use of, and not only in passages where
the thumb stationary on a key made this unavoidably necessary.
The fingering of the chromatic thirds based on this (as he
marked it in Etude, No. 5, Op. 25) affords in a much higher
degree than that customary before him the possibility of the
most beautiful legato in the quickest tempo and with a
perfectly quiet hand.
But if with Chopin smoothness was one of the qualities upon which he
insisted strenuously in the playing of his pupils, he was by no means
satisfied with a mere mechanical perfection. He advised his pupils to
undertake betimes thorough theoretical studies, recommending his friend,
the composer and theorist Henri Reber as a teacher. He advised them
also to cultivate ensemble playing--trios, quartets, &c., if first-class
partners could be had, otherwise pianoforte duets. Most urgent, however,
he was in his advice to them to hear good singing, and even to learn to
sing. To Madame Rubio he said: "You must sing if you wish to play"; and
made her take lessons in singing and hear much Italian opera--this
last, the lady remarked, Chopin regarded as positively necessary for
a pianoforte-player. In this advice we recognise Chopin's ideal of
execution: beauty of tone, intelligent phrasing, truthfulness and warmth
of expression. The sounds which he drew from the pianoforte were pure
tone without the least admixture of anything that might be called noise.
"He never thumped," was Gutmann's remark to me. Chopin, according to
Mikuli, repeatedly said that when he heard bad phrasing it appeared
to him as if some one recited, in a language he did not know, a speech
laboriously memorised, not only neglecting to observe the right quantity
of the syllables, but perhaps even making full stops in the middle of
words. "The badly-phrasing pseudo-musician," he thought, "showed that
music was not his mother-tongue, but something foreign, unintelligible
to him," and that, consequently, "like that reciter, he must altogether
give up the idea of producing any effect on the auditor by his
rendering." Chopin hated exaggeration and affectation. His precept was:
"Play as you feel." But he hated the want of feeling as much as false
feeling. To a pupil whose playing gave evidence of nothing but the
possession of fingers, he said emphatically, despairingly: "METTEZ-Y
DONc TOUTE VOTRE AME!" (Do put all your soul into it!)
[FOOTNOTE: "In dynamical shading [im nuanciren]," says Mikuli, "he
was exceedingly particular about a gradual increase and decrease of
loudness." Karasowski writes: "Exaggeration in accentuation was hateful
to him, for, in his opinion, it took away the poesy from playing, and
gave it a certain didactic pedantry."]
On declamation, and rendering in general [writes Mikuli], he
gave his pupils invaluable and significant instructions and
hints, but, no doubt, effected more certain results by
repeatedly playing not only single passages, but whole pieces,
and this he did with a conscientiousness and enthusiasm that
perhaps he hardly gave anyone an opportunity of hearing when
he played in a concert-room. Frequently the whole hour passed
without the pupil having played more than a few bars, whilst
Chopin, interrupting and correcting him on a Pleyel cottage
piano (the pupil played always on an excellent grand piano;
and it was enjoined upon him as a duty to practise only on
first-class instruments), presented to him for his admiration
and imitation the life-warm ideal of the highest beauty.
With regard to Chopin's playing to his pupils we must keep in mind what
was said in foot-note 12 on page 184. On another point in the above
quotation one of Madame Dubois's communications to me throws some
welcome light:--
Chopin [she said] had always a cottage piano [pianino] by the
side of the grand piano on which he gave his lessons. It was
marvellous to hear him accompany, no matter what compositions,
from the concertos of Hummel to those of Beethoven. He
performed the role of the orchestra most wonderfully [d'une
facon prodigieuse]. When I played his own concertos, he
accompanied me in this way.
Judging from various reports, Chopin seems to have regarded his Polish
pupils as more apt than those of other nationalities to do full justice
to his compositions. Karasowski relates that when one of Chopin's
French pupils played his compositions and the auditors overwhelmed the
performer with their praise, the master used often to remark that his
pupil had done very well, but that the Polish element and the Polish
enthusiasm had been wanting. Here it is impossible not to be reminded
of the contention between Chopin on the one hand and Liszt and Hiller on
the other hand about the possibility of foreigners comprehending Polish
national music (See Vol. 1., p. 256). After revealing the mystery of
Chopin's tempo rubato, Liszt writes in his book on this master:--
All his compositions have to be played with this sort of
balancement accentue et prosodie, this morbidezza, of which it
was difficult to seize the secret when one had not heard him
often. He seemed desirous to teach this manner to his numerous
pupils, especially to his compatriots, to whom he wished, more
than to others, to communicate the breath of his inspiration.
These [ceux-ci, ou plutot celles-la] seized it with that
aptitude which they have for all matters of sentiment and
poesy. An innate comprehension of his thought permitted them
to follow all the fluctuations of his azure wave.
There is one thing which is worth inquiring into before we close this
chapter, for it may help us to a deeper insight into Chopin's character
as a teacher--I mean his teaching repertoire. Mikuli says that,
carefully arranged according to their difficulty, Chopin placed before
his pupils the following compositions: the concertos and sonatas of
Clementi, Mozart, Bach, Handel, Scarlatti, Dussek, Field, Hummel, Ries,
Beethoven; further, Weber, Moscheles, Mendelssohn, Hiller, Schumann, and
his own works. This enumeration, however, does not agree with accounts
from other equally authentic sources. The pupils of Chopin I have
conversed and corresponded with never studied any Schumann under their
master. As to the cultivation of Beethoven, it was, no doubt, limited.
M. Mathias, it is true, told me that Chopin showed a preference for
Clementi (Gradus ad Parnassum), Bach, Field (of him much was
played, notably his concertos), and naturally for Beethoven, Weber,
&c.--Clementi, Bach, and Field being always the composers most laid
under contribution in the case of debutants. Madame Rubio, on the other
hand, confined herself to stating that Chopin put her through Hummel,
Moscheles, and Bach; and did not mention Beethoven at all. Gutmann's
statements concerning his master's teaching contain some positive
evidence with regard to the Beethoven question. What he said was this:
Chopin held that dementi's Gradus ad Parnassum, Bach's pianoforte
fugues, and Hummel's compositions were the key to pianoforte-playing,
and he considered a training in these composers a fit preparation
for his own works. He was particularly fond of Hummel and his style.
Beethoven he seemed to like less. He appreciated such pieces as the
first movement of the Moonlight Sonata (C sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2).
Schubert was a favourite with him. This, then, is what I learned from
Gutmann. In parenthesis, as it were, I may ask: Is it not strange that
no pupil, with the exception of Mikuli, mentions the name of Mozart, the
composer whom Chopin is said to have so much admired? Thanks to Madame
Dubois, who at my request had the kindness to make out a list of the
works she remembers having studied under Chopin, we shall be able to
form a pretty distinct idea of the master's course of instruction,
which, to be sure, would be modified according to the capacities of his
pupils and the objects they had in view. Well, Madame Dubois says that
Chopin made her begin with the second book of Clementi's Preludes et
Exercices, and that she also studied under him the same composer's
Gradus ad Parnassum and Bach's forty-eight preludes and fugues. Of his
high opinion of the teaching qualities of Bach's compositions we
may form an idea from the recommendation to her at their last
meeting--already mentioned in an earlier chapter--to practise them
constantly, "ce sera votre meilleur moyen de progresser" (this will
be your best means to make progress). The pieces she studied under him
included the following ones: Of Hummel, the Rondo brillant sur un theme
russe (Op. 98), La Bella capricciosa, the Sonata in F sharp minor (Op.
81), the Concertos in A minor and B minor, and the Septet; of Field,
several concertos (the one in E flat among others) and several nocturnes
("Field" she says, "lui etait tres sympathique"); of Beethoven, the
concertos and several sonatas (the Moonlight, Op. 27, No. 2; the one
with the Funeral March, Op. 26; and the Appassionata, Op. 57); of Weber,
the Sonatas in C and A flat major (Chopin made his pupils play these two
works with extreme care); of Schubert, the Landler and all the waltzes
and some of the duets (the marches, polonaises, and the Divertissement
hongrois, which last piece he admired sans reserve); of Mendelssohn,
only the G minor Concerto and the Songs without Words; of Liszt, no more
than La Tarantelle de Rossini and the Septet from Lucia ("mais ce genre
de musique ne lui allait pas," says my informant); and of Schumann,
NOTHING.
Madame Streicher's interesting reminiscences, given in Appendix III.,
form a supplement to this chapter.