WHAT WE SHOULD PLAY.
"But blessings do not fall in listless hands."_--Bayard Taylor._
We already begin to understand what the classics are. Year by year as
our interest in the beautiful increases, we shall gain more definite
knowledge about classic art. That which is classic will begin to
announce itself in us. Our own choice indicates our taste but does not
always indicate what is best for us. And one of the purposes of art is
to improve the taste by setting before us the finest works; in these,
by study, we find beauty with which we are unacquainted. Thus we
enlarge our capacity for it.
Because we are born with taste unformed and untrained you can at once
see the reason for gradually increasing the tasks. They are always a
little more difficult--like going up a mountain--but they give a finer
and finer view. The outlook from the mountain-top cannot be had all at
once. We must work our way upward for it. Hence you will observe in
your lessons that what was once a fitting task is no longer of quite
the same value because of your increased power. But about this
especially we shall have a Talk later on.
When one has heard much music of all kinds, one soon begins to
understand that there are two kinds commonly chosen. Some players
choose true music with pure thought in it, and do their best to play
it well after the manner called for by the composer. Their aim is to
give truthful expression to the music of a good writer. Other players
seem to work from a motive entirely different. They select music which
is of a showy character, with much brilliancy and little thought in
it. Their aim is not to show what good music is, but to show
themselves. The desire of the first is truth, of the second is vanity.
Now, as we examine into this, and into both kinds of music, we
discover much. It proves that we must work for the best; for the
truthful music, not for the vain music. As we get better acquainted
with true music we find it more and more interesting--it keeps saying
new things to us. We go to it again and again, getting new meanings.
But the showy music soon yields all it has; we find little or nothing
more in it than at first. As it was made not from good thought but for
display, we cannot find newer and more beautiful thought in it, and
the display soon grows tiresome. True music is like the light in a
beautifully-cut gem, it seems that we never see all it is--it is never
twice the same; always a new radiance comes from it because it is a
true gem through and through. It is full of true light, and true light
is always opposed to darkness; and darkness is the source of
ignorance.
From all this you can now understand the quaintly-expressed opinion of
a very wise man, who said: "In discharge of thy place, set before thee
the best example."[35] That means whatever we strive to learn should
be learned from works of the best kind. In the beginning, we cannot
choose wisely the best examples to set before ourselves; therefore it
is for us to heed what another wise man said: "As to choice in the
study of pieces, ask the advice of more experienced persons than
yourself; by so doing you will save much time." [36] You thereby save
time doubly. Later on in your life you will have no bad taste to
overcome--that is one saving; and already you know from childhood many
classics, and that is another saving. What we learn in childhood is a
power all our lives.
You can see plainly, now, that both in the choice of pieces and in the
manner of playing them, a person's character will come out. We saw in
the last Talk how character has to come out in writing. Only a very
common character would select pieces written entirely for a vain
show--of rapid runs, glittering arpeggios, and loud, unmeaning chords.
Worse than that, such a choice of pieces displays two common
people,--three, in fact: A composer who did not write pure thought
from the heart; a teacher who did not instil good thoughts into the
pupil's heart; and yourself (if really you care for such things) who
play from a vain desire to be considered brilliant.
A player who devotes the mind and the hands only to what a meaningless
composer writes for them is not worthy of any power. With our hands in
music, as with the tongue in speech, let us strive from the beginning
to be truthful. Let us try in both ways to express the highest truth
we are able to conceive. Then in art we shall, at least, approach near
unto the true artist; and in life we shall approach near unto the true
life. Every mere empty display-piece we study takes up the time and
the opportunity wherein we could learn a good composition, by a master
of the heart. And it is only with such music that you will, during
your life, get into the hearts of those who are most worthy for you to
know. Out of just this thought Schumann has two rules now very easy
for us to understand:
"Never help to circulate bad compositions; on the contrary, help to
suppress them with earnestness."
"You should neither play bad compositions, nor, unless compelled,
listen to them."
We now come to a really definite conclusion about the compositions we
should play and to an extent as to how we should play them.
The heart, the mind, and the hands, or the voice, if you sing, should
unite in our music; and be consecrated to the beautiful. Consecrate is
just exactly the word. Look for it in your dictionary.[37] It comes
from two other words, does it not? _Con_ meaning _with_ and _sacer_
meaning _holiness._ Thus devote heart and head and hands _with
holiness_ to the beautiful. This is very clear, I am sure.
It is also worth doing. "With holiness" describes _how_ to play and
really _what_ to play. A composition which has been born of a true man
is in thought already consecrated. He has heard it and felt it within
himself. Daily you must get closer and closer to these messages and
meanings. And are they not already more _luminous_ to you? And do you
remember what we said luminous means?