THE GREATER MASTERS.
"In spite of all, I have never interrupted the study of music."
--_Palestrina._
An opera writer of Italy, named Giovanni Pacini, once said that to
study the writings of Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven "lightens the mind
of a student, since the classics are a continuous development of the
most beautiful and simple melodies," and we sometimes hear it said
that great men are they who dare to be simple. In our Talks thus far
we have learned one important fact, which is, that music is truth
expressed out of the heart. Of course we know that to be in the heart
it must be felt, and to be expressed we must know a great deal about
writing. Now we are able to imagine quite well what a great master is
in music. As Pacini says, his melodies will be simple and beautiful,
and as we ourselves know, his simple melodies will be an expression of
truth out of the heart.
But to go only as far as this would not be enough. Many can write
simply and well, and truthfully, yet not as a master. There must be
something else. When we have found out what that something else is we
shall understand the masters better and honor them more.
Everywhere in the history of music we read of what men have been
willing to do for the love of their art. It is not that they have been
willing to do when told; but that they have cheerfully done painful,
laborious tasks of their own accord. The name of every master will
recall great labor willingly given for music and equally great
suffering willingly endured, nay, even sought out, that the music
might be purer to them. Poor Palestrina went along many years through
life with the scantiest means. But, as he says, "in spite of all, I
have never interrupted the study of music." Bach was as simple and
loyal a citizen as any land could have, and from the early years when
he was a fatherless boy to the days of his sad affliction, he
sacrificed always. Think of the miles he walked to hear Buxterhude,
the organist; and in the earlier years, when he lived with Johann
Christopher, his brother, how eagerly he sought learning in the art
that so fascinated him. It was a constant willingness to learn
honestly that distinguished him.
Any of us who will labor faithfully with the talents we have can do a
great deal--more than we would believe. Even Bach himself said to a
pupil: "If thou art _equally_ diligent thou wilt succeed as I
have."[40] He recognized that it matters little how much we wish for
things to be as we want them; unless our wish-thoughts are forced into
prompt action we cannot succeed; for while all thoughts seek action,
wish-thoughts demand the most labor.
It would be pleasant to have a Talk about every one of the great
masters to see in what particular way each of them sacrificed for the
art he loved. In all of them the true qualities come out: in one as
earnestness; in another as determination; in another as patriotism;
but all are loyal to the art itself. It must be a very plain lesson to
us to see that when men are willing to give all their thoughts to a
subject they get much from it. And is it not quite as plain to see
that no one can get much if he gives but a few unwilling minutes to
it? I trust none who hear these Talks will ever think that with a
little time given to their music, and that not freely given, they can
ever get either pleasure or comfort from it. They never can. And
rather than do it so they would better leave it undone. If we set out
on the way to go to the masters we shall get there only by
earnestness. Lagging is a disgrace to the one who travels and to the
one to whom we go. It shows his laziness on the one hand, and his
misunderstanding of the master on the other; for if he understood he
would take no listless step.
Now we have said again and again that true music comes from the heart,
and is simple. At the same time we find it difficult to understand the
music of the masters. That is, some of us find it so. It seems
anything but simple to us; and naturally we conclude that there is
something wrong somewhere. We sit at our tasks, poring over the music,
and we grow discouraged because we cannot play it. To think it a very
hard task is natural, and we cannot bear to hear such tones. Well, let
us not get discouraged for that; let us see!
First of all, the playing is more difficult to do than the music is to
understand. Once a great master of the piano played to a lady who had
never heard a great master before, and the playing was like beautiful
lace. When it was over and the master had gone away, some one asked
the lady how he had played, and she said:
"He played so that the music sounded as I thought it should."
And they asked her what she meant.
"Always I have been taught," she said, "to listen to music and to
think it. I have been taught this more than I have been taught to
play. And the music of the master-composers I always think of as
beautiful and simple but hard to make it sound as it should. Often I
have heard others say that the music of the masters is dull, and not
beautiful, but that is really not what the people feel. It is
difficult for them to play the music rightly. And again they cannot
understand this: that art is often simple in, its truth, while those
who look upon it are not! simple-hearted, as they regard it. This is
hard to understand, but it is the true reason."
Now, if we think of what this cultured lady said, we shall think her
wise. Whatever stumbling we may do with our fingers, let us still keep
in our minds the purity of the music itself. This will in a sense
teach us to regard reverentially the men who, from early years, have
added beauties to art for us to enjoy to-day. The wisest of the Greeks
[41] said:
"The treasures of the wise men of old, which they have left written in
books, I turn over and peruse in company with my friends, and if we
find anything good in them, we remark it, and think it a great gain,
if we thus become more attracted to one another."
Once an English lady[42] wrote about a verse-writer: "No poet ever
clothed so few ideas in so many words." Just opposite to this is a
true poet, he who clothes in few words many and noble ideas. A master
tells his message in close-set language.
Now, in the last minutes, let us see what a great master is:
I. He will be one who tells a beautiful message simply.
II. He has been willing to sacrifice and suffer for his art.
III. He has lived his every day in the simple desire to know his own
heart better.
IV. Always he has concentrated his message into as few tones as
possible, and his music, therefore, becomes filled to
overflowing with meaning.
About the meaning of the masters, one of them has written this:
"Whenever you open the music of Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven, its
meaning comes forth to you in a thousand different ways." That is
because thousands of different messages from the heart have been
_concentrated_ in it.