_The Art of Practise_
We have seen that if the pianist hopes to perfect himself in his art he
must lay the foundation deep down in the fundamentals of hand position,
body condition, correct finger movements and in careful attention to
the minutest details of touch and tone production.
The remark is often heard, from persons who have just listened to a
piano recital: "I would give anything in the world to play like that!"
But would they even give the necessary time, to say nothing of the
endless patience, tireless energy and indomitable perseverance which go
to the making of a virtuoso.
How much time does the artist really require for study? Paderewski owns
to devoting _all_ his time to it during the periods of preparation for
his recital tours. At certain seasons of the year most of the artists
give a large portion of each day to the work. Godowsky is an incessant
worker; Burnham devotes his entire mornings to piano study; Germaine
Schnitzer gives six hours daily to her work, and if interrupted one day
the lost time is soon made up. Eleanor Spencer "practises all her spare
time," as she quaintly puts it. A professional pianist must give a
number of hours each day to actual practise at the keyboard, besides
what is done away from it. The work is mentally going on continually,
whether one really sits at the instrument or not.
The point which most concerns us is: How shall one practise so as to
make the most of the time and accomplish the best results? What etudes,
if any, shall we use, and what technical material is the most useful and
effectual?
Wilhelm Bachaus, whose consummate technic we have so often admired,
says: "I am old-fashioned enough to still believe in scales and
arpeggios. Some of the players of the present day seem to have no use
for such things, but I find them of great importance. This does not
necessarily mean that I go through the whole set of keys when I practise
the scales. I select a few at a time and work at those. I start with
ridiculously simple forms--just the thumb under the hand and the hand
over the thumb--a few movements each way, but these put the hand in trim
for scales and arpeggios. I practise the latter about half an hour a
day. I have to overhaul my technic once or twice a week to see that
everything is in order. Scales and arpeggios come in for their share of
criticism. I practise them in various touches, but oftener in _legato_,
as that is more difficult and also more beautiful than the others. I
practise technic, when possible, an hour a day, including Bach."
Sigismond Stojowski considers that scales and arpeggios must form a
part of the daily routine.
Thuel Burnham says: "Of my practise hours at least one is given to
technic, scales, arpeggios, octaves, chords, and Bach! I believe in
taking one selection of Bach and perfecting it--transposing it in all
keys and polishing it to the highest point possible. So with etudes, it
is better to perfect a few than to play _at_ so many."
THE PIANIST A MECHANIC
Edwin Hughes, the American pianist and teacher in Munich, remarks:
"Technic is the mechanical part of music making; to keep it in running
order one must be constantly tinkering with it, just as the engine
driver with his locomotive or the chauffeur with his automobile. Every
intelligent player recognizes certain exercises as especially beneficial
to the mechanical well-being of his playing; from these he will plan his
daily schedule of technical practise."
Teresa Carreno asserts she had in the beginning many technical exercises
which her teacher wrote out for her, from difficult passages taken from
the great composers. There were hundreds of them, so many that it took
just three days to go the rounds. She considers them invaluable, and
constantly uses them in her own practise and in her teaching. Each
exercise must be played in all keys and with every possible variety of
touch and tone.
Paderewski gives much time daily to pure technic practise. He has been
known to play scales and arpeggios in a single key for three quarters of
an hour at a stretch. These were played with every variety of touch,
velocity, dynamic shading and so on.
It is seen from the instances quoted that many great pianists believe in
daily technic practise, or the study of pure technic apart from pieces.
Many more testify that scales, chords, arpeggios and octaves constitute
their daily bread. Some have spoken to me especially of octave practise
as being eminently beneficial. They feel these things are essential to
the acquiring of a fine technic, and keeping it up to concert pitch.
Some artists are partial to certain technical studies. Bachaus highly
recommends those of Brahms, for instance. All artists use Bach in
connection with their technic practise; in fact the works of Bach may be
considered to embody pure technic principles, and pianists and teachers
consider them a daily necessity.
INVENTING EXERCISES
Together with their studies in pure technic alone, the artists invent
exercises out of the pieces they study, either by playing passages
written for both hands with one hand, by turning single notes into
octaves, by using more difficult fingering than necessary, thus bringing
into use the weaker fingers, changing the rhythm, and in numerous other
ways increasing the effort of performance, so that when the passage is
played as originally written, it shall indeed seem like child's play.
Another means to acquire technical mastery is through transposition. One
would think Bach's music difficult enough when performed as written, but
the artists think nothing of putting it through the different keys.
Burnham relates that during early lessons with Dr. Mason, that master
gave him a Bach Invention to prepare, casually remarking it might be
well to memorize it. The simple suggestion was more than sufficient, for
the ambitious pupil presented himself at the next lesson with not only
that particular Invention learned by heart, but likewise the whole set!
De Pachmann, in his eagerness to master the technic and literature of
the piano, says that when a Bach Prelude and Fugue was on one occasion
assigned him by his teacher, he went home and learned the whole
twenty-four, which he was able to play in every key for the next lesson!
SLOW PRACTISE
The question is often put to artists: "Do you deem it necessary to work
for velocity, or do you practise the composition much at the required
speed?" Many pianists practise very slowly. This was William H.
Sherwood's custom. Harold Bauer believes velocity to be inherent in the
individual, so that when the passage is thoroughly comprehended it can
be played at the necessary rate of speed. Bachaus testifies he seldom
works for velocity, saying that if he masters the passage he can play it
at any required tempo. "I never work for velocity as some do," he
remarks. "I seldom practise fast, for it interferes with clearness. I
prefer to play more slowly, giving the greatest attention to clearness
and good tone. By pursuing this course I find that when I need velocity
I have it."
Clarence Adler counsels pupils always to begin by practising
slowly--faster tempo will develop later, subconsciously. Velocity is
only to be employed after the piece has been thoroughly learned, every
mark of expression observed, all fingering, accents and dynamic marks
mastered. "You would scarcely believe," he adds, "how slowly I practise
myself."
A FEW EXCEPTIONS
There are very few exceptions to the general verdict in favor of technic
practise apart from pieces. Godowsky asserts he never practises scales.
Bauer cares little for pure technic practise, believing the composition
itself contains sufficient material of a technical nature.
Whether or not these brilliant exceptions merely prove the rule, the
thoughtful student of the piano must decide for himself. He has already
discovered that modern piano playing requires a perfect technic,
together with the personal equation of vigorous health, serious purpose
and many-sided mentality. Mme. Rider-Possart says: "Technic is something
an artist has to put in the background as something of secondary
importance, yet if he does not possess it he is nowhere." The student
will not overlook the fact that to acquire the necessary technical
control he must devote time and thought to it outside of piece playing.
He must understand the principles and follow out a certain routine in
order to secure the best results in the quickest and surest way. While
each one must work out his own salvation, it is an encouragement to know
that even the greatest artists must toil over their technic, must keep
eternally at it, must play slowly, must memorize bit by bit. The
difference between the artist and the talented amateur often lies in the
former's absolute concentration, perseverance and devotion to the
highest ideals.