"I have been asked whether I prefer to play for an audience of "music-lovers" or one of "music knowers." Perhaps an equal mixture is the happy medium. Of the two sorts it seems to me the music-knowers are preferable, for even if they are very critical, they also recognize the various points you make; they see and appreciate what you are striving for. They are not inclined to say, "I don"t like such or such a player"; for the music-knower understands the vast amount of time and energy, labor and talent that go to make a pianist. He rather says, "I prefer the playing of such or such an artist." The word "like" in connection with a great artist seems almost an affront. What does it matter if his work is not "liked" by some? He knows it can stand for what it is--the utmost perfection of his powers--of himself. And after all the audience is the greatest teacher an artist can have; I have learned more from this teacher than from any other. In this school I learn what moves and touches an audience; how to improve this or that pa.s.sage; how to make a greater climax here, or more sympathetic coloring there. For in conceiving how a work should sound, I get--in my study of it--a general idea of the whole, and make it as nearly perfect as I am able. But it has to be tested and tried--an audience must pa.s.s its opinion--must set the seal of approval upon it. When the work has been polished by repeated trials in this school, interpretation then becomes crystallized in the mind and the piece can always be given in nearly the same way. A painter does not change nor repaint his picture each time he exhibits it; why need the musician change his idea of the interpretation at each repet.i.tion? To trust too much to the inspiration of the moment might injure the performance as a whole. When I have my ideal of the interpretation worked out in mind, it becomes my sacred duty to play it always in this spirit--always to give my best. I can never think that because I am playing in Boston or New York, I must strive harder for perfection than if I play in a little town. No, I must give the highest that is in me, no matter where it may be. People sometimes ask me if I am nervous before a recital. It is not that I am afraid of people; but I am always anxious about being able to realize my ideal, when the moment comes.
"I can say I prefer playing in America to anywhere else in the world; for there are more real appreciation and understanding here than in any other country. Of course the great music centers all over the world are about the same; but the difference lies in the smaller cities, which in America are far more advanced musically than in Europe. I have proved this to be the case repeatedly. Not long ago I was booked for a couple of recitals in a small town of not more than two thousand inhabitants.
When I arrived at the little place, and saw the barn of a hotel, I wondered what these people could want with piano recitals. But when I came to the college where I was to play and found such a large, intelligent audience gathered, some of whom had traveled many miles to be present, it proved in what estimation music was held. The teacher of this school was a good musician, who had studied nine years with Leschetizky, in Vienna; the pupils understood the numbers on the program, were wide awake, and well informed as to what was going on in the world of music.
"One handicap the present day pianist encounters, who plays much with orchestra, and that is the dearth of modern concertos. The familiar ten or dozen famous ones are played over and over, and one seldom hears anything new. There are new ones written, to be sure, but the public has not learned to care for them. The beautiful second concerto of Rachmaninoff has not made a success, even in the great music centers, where the most intelligent audiences have heard it. I believe that if an audience of the best musicians could be a.s.sembled in a small room and this work could be played to them, they could not fail to be impressed with its beauties. I am now studying a new concerto by Haddon Wood, which you see in ma.n.u.script there on the piano; it is one I find very beautiful."
A subsequent conversation with the artist elicited the following:
"I might say that I began my music when about four years old, by playing the Russian National Hymn, on a toy piano containing eight keys, which had been given me. My older sister, who was studying the piano, noticed this, showed me a few things about the notes, and I constantly picked out little tunes and pieces on the real piano. Finally one day my sister"s teacher, Rudolph Heim, came to the house, mainly on my account.
This was in Odessa, in the south of Russia, where I was born and where I spent my early years. On this occasion, he wanted to look at me and see what I could do. Unluckily a sudden fit of shyness overcame me and I began to cry; the exhibition could not take place, as nothing could be made out of me that day. You see I was headstrong even at that early age," said the young pianist, with one of her charming smiles.
"Soon after this incident, I was taken to the Professor"s studio. He examined me, considered I had talent, and thought it should be cultivated. So he took me in hand. I was then five, and my real musical education began at that time.
"From the very first I adopted a position of hand which seemed to me most convenient and comfortable, and no amount of contrary instruction and advice has ever been able to make me change it. I play scales and pa.s.sages with low hand and flat fingers because that position seems the most favorable for my hand. When practising, I play everything very slowly, raising my fingers high and straight from the knuckle joint.
This gives me great clearness and firmness. In rapid pa.s.sage work the action is reduced, but the position remains. I am said to have a clear, pearly touch, with quite sufficient power at my command for large works.
"After five years of study with my first teacher, Rudolph Heim, a pupil of Moscheles, I entered the Moscow Conservatory, and continued my studies under Professor Pabst, brother and teacher of the composer of that name. I was then ten years old. Professor Pabst was very conservative, very strict, and kept me at work on the music of the older masters. This kind of music suits me, I think; at least I enjoy it. Even here I still clung to my ideas of holding my hands and of touching the keys, and always expect to do so.
"I remained with this professor about six years and then began my public career.
"You ask about my present studies, and how I regulate my practise.
During my periods of rest from concert work, I practise a great deal--I wish I could say all the time, but that is not quite possible. I give an hour or more a day to technical practise. As to the material, I use Chopin"s etudes constantly, playing them with high-raised, outstretched fingers, in very slow tempo. One finds almost every technical problem ill.u.s.trated in these etudes; octaves, arpeggios, scales in double thirds and sixths, repeated notes, as in number 7, broken chords and pa.s.sage work. I keep all these etudes in daily practise, also using some of the Liszt _etudes Transcendantes_, and, of course, Bach. The advantage of using this sort of material is that one never tires of it; it is always interesting and beautiful. With this material well in hand, I am always ready for recital, and need only to add special pieces and modern music.
"In learning a new work I first study it very slowly, trying to become familiar with its meaning. I form my concept of it and _live_ with it for months before I care to bring it forward. I try to form an ideal conception of the piece, work this out in every detail, then always endeavor to render it as closely like the ideal as possible."
VII
ETHEL LEGINSKA
RELAXATION THE KEYNOTE OF MODERN PIANO PLAYING
The brilliant young pianist, Ethel Leginska, who is located for a time in America, was seen in her Carnegie Hall studio, on her return from a concert tour. The young English girl is a pet.i.te brunette; her face is very expressive, her manner at once vivacious and serious. The firm muscles of her fine, shapely hands indicate that she must spend many hours daily at the keyboard.
"Yes, I have played a great deal in public--all my life, in fact--ever since I was six. I began my musical studies at Hull, where we lived; my first teacher was a pupil of McFarren. Later I was taken to London, where some rich people did a great deal for me. Afterward I went to Leschetizky, and was with him several years, until I was sixteen; I also studied in Berlin. Then I began my career, and concertized all over Europe; now I am in America for a time. I like it here; I am fond of your country already.
"The piano is such a wonderful instrument to me; I feel we are only beginning to fathom its possibilities; not in a technical sense, but as a big avenue for expression. For me the piano is capable of reflecting every mood, every feeling; all pathos, joy, sorrow--the good and the evil too--all there is in life, all that one has lived." (This recalls a recently published remark of J. S. Van Cleve: "The piano can sing, march, dance, sparkle, thunder, weep, sneer, question, a.s.sert, complain, whisper, hint; in one word it is the most versatile and plastic of instruments.")
"As for the technic of the piano, I think of it only as the material--only as a means to an end. In fact I endeavor to get away from the thought of the technical material, in order that I may get at the meaning of the music I wish to interpret. I am convinced there is a great future for the piano and its music. Even now we are taking piano music very seriously, and are trying to interpret it in a far deeper and broader sense than the pianists of, say, fifty years ago ever thought of doing. I fancy if Clara Schumann, for instance, could return and play to us, or even Liszt himself, we should not find their playing suited to this age at all. Some of us yet remember the hand position Mme. Schumann had, the lack of freedom in fingers and arms. It was not the fashion of her time to play with the relaxed freedom, with the breadth and depth of style which we demand of artists to-day. In those days relaxation had not received the attention it deserved, therefore we should probably find the playing of the greatest artists of a former generation stiff and angular, in spite of all we have heard of their wonderful performances.
"Relaxation is a hobby with me; I believe in absolute freedom in every part of the arm anatomy, from the shoulder down to the finger-tips.
Stiffness seems to me the most reprehensible thing in piano playing, as well as the most common fault with all kinds of players. When people come to play for me, that is the thing I see first in them, the stiffness. While living in Berlin, I saw much of Mme. Teresa Carreno, and she feels the same as I do about relaxation, not only at the keyboard, but when sitting, moving about or walking. She has thought along this line so constantly, that sometimes, if carrying something in hand, she will inadvertently let it drop, without realizing it--from sheer force of the habit of relaxation.
"You ask how I would begin with a young pupil who never has had lessons.
I use the principle of relaxation first of all, loosening arms and wrists. This principle can be taught to the youngest pupil. The wrist is elevated and lowered, as the hand is formed on the keys in its five finger position, with arched knuckles. It does not take long to acquire this relaxed condition; then come the finger movements. I do not believe in lifting the fingers high above the keys; this takes time and interferes with velocity and power. I lift my fingers but little above the keys, yet I have plenty of power, all the critics agree on that. In chords and octaves I get all the power I need by grasping the keys with weight and pressure. I do not even prepare the fingers in the air, before taking the chord; I do not find it necessary." Here the pianist played a succession of ringing chords, whose power and tonal quality bore out her words; the fingers seemed merely to press and cling; there was no striking nor percussion.
"To return to the beginning pupil. As for a book to start with, I often use the one by Damm, though any foundational work may be employed, so long as correct principles are taught. It is said by Leschetizky that he has no method. That may be understood to mean a book, for he certainly has what others would call a method. There are principles and various sets of exercises to be learned; but it is quite true that none of the Vorbereiters use a book.
"In teaching the piano, as you know, every pupil is different; each has his or her own peculiar hand, and a different degree of intelligence. So each pupil must be treated differently. This is really an advantage to the teacher; for it would be very monotonous if all pupils were alike.
"The piano is such a revealer of character; I need only to hear a person play to know what sort of character he has. If one is inclined to much careful detail in everything, it comes out in the playing. If one is indolent and indifferent, it is seen the moment one touches the keys; or if one is built on broad, generous lines, and sees the dramatic point in life and things, all this is revealed at the piano.
"To refer again to the subject of finger action. I do not believe in the so-called finger stroke; on the contrary I advocate fingers close to the keys, clinging to them whenever you can. This is also Arthur Schnabel"s idea. You should hear Schnabel; all Berlin is wild over him, and whenever he gives a concert the house is sold out. He has quant.i.ties of pupils also, and is quite a remarkable teacher. One point I insist upon which he doesn"t: I will not allow the joint of the finger next the tip to break or give in. I can not stand that, but Schnabel doesn"t seem to care about it; his mind is filled with only the big, broad things of music.
"In regard to memorizing piano compositions. I do it phrase by phrase, and at the instrument, unless I am traveling or unable to get to a piano, in which case I think it out from the notes. If the piece is very difficult I take a short pa.s.sage of two or three measures and play each hand separately and then together; but generally I play the pa.s.sage complete--say half a dozen times with the notes, and then repeat it the same number of times from memory. Perhaps the next day I have forgotten it, so the work has to be done over again; the second time, however, it generally sticks.
"My great longing and ambition is to write music, to become a composer.
With this end in view, I give whatever time I am able to the study of composition. I hope some day to create something that will be worthy the high aim I have before me."
VIII
BERTHA FIERING TAPPER
MASTERING PIANISTIC PROBLEMS
If environment and atmosphere are inspirational aids to piano teaching and playing, the students of Mrs. Thomas Tapper have the incentives of both in their lesson hours. Her apartments on the Drive have the glory of sunlight all the long afternoons. Outside the Hudson shimmers in blue and gold; indoors all is harmonious and home-like. In the large music-room, facing the river, two grand pianos stand side by side; there are many portraits and mementoes of the great in music; fresh flowers, books--everything to uplift thought; while in the midst of it all is Mrs. Tapper herself, the serious, high-minded, inspiring teacher; the "mother confessor" to a large number of young artists and teachers.
"Music study means so much more than merely exercising the fingers," she said; "the student should have a good all-round education. When young people come to me for instruction, I ask what they are doing in school.
If they say they have left school in order to devote their whole time to the piano, I say, "Go back to your school, and come to me later, when you have finished your school course." It is true that in rare cases it may be advisable for the student to leave school, but he should then pursue general or special studies at home. I often wish the music student"s education in this country could be arranged as it is in at least one of the great music schools in Russia. There the mornings are given to music, while general studies are taken up later in the day. It is really a serious problem, here in America, this fitting in music with other studies. Both public and private schools try to cover so much ground that there is very little time left for music or anything else.
The music pupil also needs to know musical literature, history and biography, to be familiar with the lives and writings of the great composers. Take the letters and literary articles of Robert Schumann, for instance. How interesting and inspiring they are!
"In regard to methods in piano study my principles are based wholly upon my observations of Leschetizky"s work with me personally, or with others. What I know he has taught me; what I have achieved I owe to him. My first eight weeks in Vienna were spent in learning, first, to control position and condition of hands and arms according to the law of balance; secondly, to direct each motion with the utmost accuracy and speed. To accomplish this I began with the most elementary exercises in five-finger position, using one finger at a time. Then came the principles of the scale, arpeggios, chords and octaves. All these things were continued until every principle was mastered. I practised at first an hour a day, then increased the amount as my hands grew stronger and the number of exercises increased.
"Next came the study of tone production in various forms, a good quality invariably being the result of a free condition of the arm combined with strength of fingers and hands.
"The Leschetizky principles seem to me the most perfect and correct in every particular. Yes, there are several books of the method, by different authors, but I teach the principles without a book. The principles themselves are the essential things. I aim to build up the hand, to make it strong and dependable in every part, to fill out the weak places and equalize it. That this may be thoroughly and successfully accomplished, I require that nothing but technical exercises be used for the first nine, ten, or twelve weeks. We begin with the simplest exercises, one finger at a time, then two, three and so on through the hand. I believe in thus devoting all the practise time to technic, for a certain period, so that the mind is free to master the principles, undisturbed by piece playing. When the principles have been a.s.similated, the attention can then be directed to the study of music itself. If any weak places appear in the hand from time to time, they can be easily corrected.
"If a pupil comes to me who has played a great deal but with no idea of the principles of piano playing, who does not know how to handle herself or the keyboard, it is absolutely necessary to stop everything and get ready to play. If you attempt even a simple sonata with no legato touch, no idea of chord or scale playing, you can not make the piece sound like anything. It is like a painter trying to paint without brushes, or an artist attempting to make a pen and ink drawing with a blunt lead pencil; to do good work you must have the tools to work with.
"For application of all principles, the studies of Czerny, Op. 299, 740, and others, offer unequaled opportunity. They are simple, direct, and give the student a chance for undivided attention to every position taken and to every motion made.
"What happens afterward is altogether according to the individual characteristics of the student. How to recognize these and deal with them to the best advantage is the interesting task of my great master (and those who try to follow in his steps)--the man of keenest intelligence, of profound learning and experience. To learn this lesson from him has been my greatest aim, and to see him at work, as it has been my privilege to do for several summers, has been of the greatest influence and inspiration in my own work.
"My chief endeavor is to create a desire for good musicianship. To this end I insist upon the study of theory, harmony, ear-training and a.n.a.lysis. In the piano lessons I do not have sufficient time to teach these things. I have a.s.sistant teachers who help me with these subjects and also with the technical training. Once a month during the season, my a.s.sistant teachers bring their pupils to play for me, and we have a cla.s.s in piano teaching. There are sometimes eighteen or twenty students who come to a cla.s.s. I can in this way supervise all the work done, and keep in touch with my teachers, their work, and with all the students.
"On the first Sat.u.r.day of the month I have my own pupils here for a cla.s.s; they play for me and for each other. Everything is played from memory, not a printed note is used. Students tell me it is very difficult to play here, where all listen so intently. Especially is it difficult the first time a student plays in cla.s.s, to keep the mind wholly on what he is doing, with sufficient concentration. Later on, at the end of the season, it comes easier.
"This idea of separating the technical work at the outset from the study of music itself, secures, in my opinion, the most perfect foundation, and later on the best results. It is sometimes wonderful how, with proper training, the hand will improve and develop in a comparatively short time. I often marvel at it myself."
The writer had the privilege of being one of the guests at the last audition of the season. Eight or nine young artists played a long and difficult program. Among the numbers were a Beethoven sonata, entire; Chopin"s Ballade in A flat major; Cesar Franck, Prelude, Fugue and Variations; a Mozart Fantaisie; Grieg Concerto, first movement; Weber"s Concertstuck, and Chopin"s Scherzo in E. The recital was most instructive from an educational point of view. All the players had repose and concentration, and there were no noticeable slips, though every piece was played from memory. Hands were well arched at the knuckles, fingers curved--with adequate action at the knuckle joint; wrists in normal position, and extremely loose; the whole arm swung from the shoulder and poised over the keys, thus adjusting itself to every requirement of the composition. Every note had its amount of hand or arm weight. The tone quality was full and singing. These points were exemplified even in the playing of the youngest pupils. Furthermore they had an intelligent grasp of the meaning of the music they played, and brought it out with conviction, power, and brilliancy.