Cornell Httlnerattg ffitbranj 3ttjaca, Nero fork BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE FISKE ENDOWMENT FUND THE BEQUEST OF WILLARD FISKE LIBRARIAN OF THE UNIVERSITY 1868*1683 1905 SIC MT 6.W64 7875 nlVerS " y L ' brary Pian iiiiii™MiiifiMl?St,,±'! l l c,ical and Polemi 3 1924 022 478 279 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022478279 <=>Zt4eg&b664' w& <~->/s7?// ■■' .~//Y?SS. ?/?,<7.??. 7?, ~6 J%2. Ut/ace with their artistic culture, and also time be left for walking about in open nature and for strengthening their bodies, whilst other children have to sweat nine hours a-day on the benches in the schools and institutions — and have to pay for this with the loss of their health and of a joyous youth. Mrs. H. Oh, come now, we know it well, Sir ! Your children have to play the whole day — That. Not the night too 1 You wish, perhaps, to seek an explanation of their art by-that 1 I really wonder, madam, that you did not also hear of the latter, seeing that you have been informed of so many other bad things about me and my daughters ! Mrs. H. {Dismissing the point — suddenly). How old is your Emma really ? That. Really she is sixteen years and seven weeks. Mrs. H. Does she speak French 1 That. Oui, elle parle franqais — and also in sounds — a language understood throughout the whole world. Mrs. H. But she is so quiet ; — perhaps she does not like playing 1 That. You have given her no opportunity yet to speak — forward she is not. For the rest, she has very much liked to play these two years. Mrs. H. (Quickly). Well, look now, before that you have forced her after all then 1 That. It is true that before, in her natural development, to which vanity and other impure motives were strangers, she played, or rather engaged in more serious studies, more from obedience and custom. Does your thirteen-year-old daughter engage in earnest studies also, always unasked 1 Or does she go to school every day with pleasure 1 Or does she always knit, without being reminded of it ? Or — Mrs. II. (interrupting). I see, you are enamoured with your daughters ! But yet you are said to be so horribly severe and cruel in the musical training of your children — or rather, you are said to be always so. That. Do you mean that I am so from love ? Or have you come to that conclusion, because they are artists — or because they look so blooming and healthy — or because they can write so nice letters —or because they have not become distorted by embroidering — or because they are so harmless, natural, and modest? — Or — Mrs. H. (Irritably). Let us leave that ! But one good piece of advise I will 60 give you : do not tax the strength of your Emma too much, as, I am sorry to say, you have done with the eldest one too. That. If that is so, madam — she has thriven at least very well with it. Mrs. H. (Hotly.) But she Would thrive better still — That. If she did not play at all : — I can scarcely know that, and I have been told so already yesterday. Well, I hope you will in the meantime be content with Emma as she is ! Mrs. H. People like you are absolutely deaf to advice. That. As a teacher, I gave my whole soul to my subject, and every day I counselled with myself upon the education of my daughters and of other pupils that I have trained to be artists — and that with some ability. Mrs. H. (Not heeding — turning to Emma). Are not your fingers sore in playing so difficult things ? Tlial. Only if I should strike her on them ; but I don't do that. (Emma looks at the parrot, which hangs in the room, and strokes the large bull-dog. ) Hans Hasty. (Entering with his daughter Lizzie). Mr. That, you will have the kindness then to watch our Lizzie's playing on the piano to-day and tell us whether we shall continue in that way ? Ay, ay, music is an old ' heirloom in our family, I must say : my wife also in her youth has strummed a little, and/ I — I have played the violin. My teacher in the High School, it is true, told me that I had no taste, no ear, and no sense of time, and that I scraped too much. That. Most extraordinary ! He must have been mistaken ! Hans H. But I have always been dreadfully fond of music. My father and my grandfather have on our property even often played the organ in the church for the schoolmaster, and the people knew at once when they played. My father has related that to me many a time at dinner — ha, ha, that was really funny. That. Extraordinary ! Hans H. Well, yes, to come back upon my fiddle, I left it alone after a twelvemonth, because I found it myself rather scrapy. That. Extraordinary ! Then your ear and your feeling had been further developed by this time. Hans H. When I afterwards took a civil appointment, my wife said to me : " Husband, it is really a pity about your violin ;" then I got it strung again, and took a teacher, — it is just as if it were to-day. That. ( With eyes on the floor — the servant brings in ice). That is very extraordinary. Hans H. But the town-piper also sail, that in duets it was impossible to get on .with me. 61 That. Extraordinary ! Then I suppose you played only solos 1 But as to your daughter ! Would you play something to me, Miss Lizzie ? Mrs. H. {Condescendingly and gently). Yes, but she is a little frightened, and is ashamed before your Emma. Emma. You need not be so, indeed. Mrs. H. Fetch then " Les Graces 1 ' byHerz, and the "Tremolo" by Rosellen. Lizzie. But, mamma, that by Herz I have forgotten, and the Tremolo / cannot play yet. That is always the way wi$h me. Mr. Schaefer says I should console myself, it was the same with his other pupils — it would be sure to break out at last I But Mr. Schaefer is very strict ! Are you as strict, Mr. That ? Mrs. H. You have already heard me say — Mr That is the strictest of all — (jocosely) but he denies it. That. One thing you must grant me, madam : all my pupils invariably look forward with pleasure to my lessons, and that must always be so, because the progress is always visible and pleasant, and everything is developed naturally without forcing. Mrs. H. (Less spiteful.) We shall not investigate that point further. How were it possible for your daughters to execute so many pieces, and that, moreover, by heart, if they had not to play the whole day, and you were not so cruel, while my Lizzie cannot get through one without sticking ? That. Permit me — with you it is Suhaefer's f — Mrs. H. No, no — you must excuse me, Sir, we allow no slur to be cast on our Mr. Schaefer, he is very particular and untiring — That. This is not the only thing required, but — Hans H. It is really monstrous, upon my honour ; every talented person runs to you— so that it is easy enough to teach ! — Ha ! ha ! Do you observe that my grandfather played the organ 1 Now, Lizzie, sit down and play ! (It is the Cavatina from the Pirata with variations. The introduction begins with E flat unisono. Lizzie takes unisono E natural, and in the bass moreover misses it, and cries out, "Mamma, did I not tell you— I have forgotten it!" Mr. Schaefer comes in— runs up to her, and puts her fingers on E flat. ) Schaefer. I beg your pardon, Mr. That, I just want to set her a-going. To play before such connoisseurs makes her a little confused ; her eyes are getting quite dim. Are there not three flats marked, Lizzie 1 Hans H- Only courage ! — Oho, Lizzie cannot get at the pedal, the bull-dog is lying in front of it. John, take him out ! (After the removal of the bull-dog, Lizzie plays to the fourth bar, when she takes C sharp instead of C natural, and stops.) Mrs. R. Well, begin once more ; Mr. That likes to hear these things — he has experienced all that with his children already ! (Lizzie begins at the beginning, and gets as far as the eighth bar, when 3he stops again.) 62 Schaefer. Don't disgrace me ! "Well, begin once mbre, my dear Lizzie — you did it pretty well a week ago. (Lizzie begins anew, and plays, or strums rather, as far as the eighteenth bar. But now all is at an end, and she wants to rise.) That. Omit the introduction — it is too difficult. Begin at once with the Theme. Mrs. H. Oh yes - the beautiful. Theme ! Hans H. {To his Wife.) We will go and leave those gentlemen alone. We will speak further about that, gentlemen, over a cup of tea. (Lizzie refuses to play. ) That. Mr. Schaefer, ask Lizzie to play me some scales, some chords, some fingering exercises, or an easy dance, without notes ! Schaefer. Such things she has not in her fingers. You see, I always take one piece after another, but I have each one played as well as possible. I also repeat the difficult parts, I write the correct lingering above it, and see strictly that she does not take a wrong one — altogether I give myself much trouble and get quite hot by doing so. Lizzie is also obedient, and practises her pieces every day for two hours — but — but ! (Lizzie retires to a distance with Emma. ) Thai. With the best intentions, you will not succeed, Mr. Schaefer. Even if your Lizzie is only required to pfay-as an amateur, and there is nothing higher aimed at s for which her talents besides would not be sufficient, — you must never- theless first of all have some care to produce a right tone, and do away with the robin redbreast tapping ; you must try thereafter by mechanical exercises of all kinds, playing of scales, etc., to give her hands and fingers such readiness, firmness, and security, that she may be able to master her pieces at least tolerably with some degree of expressive tone and passable touch. You are no less mistaken in the choice of the pieces, which are by far too difficult — a mistake of most teachers, even up to the farthest advanced pupils. The pieces that are to be performed must always be below the mechanical powers of the pupil, since otherwise mere fighting with the difficulties ever deprives the child of all confidence for the execu- tion, and produces stammering, sticking, indistinctness — nothing but unseemly results. Studies, exercises, etc., are especially to develop the mechanism, but not ordinary pieces (least of all, pieces by certain celebrated composers, who, it maybe, do not even write so as to be adapted to the piano, or at least have in view first of all more the music than the player) in higher regions perhaps even of Beethoven, which is the most to be doubted. In this way lay first of all a mechanical founda- tion — remember the readiness and rapidity of the fingers, the strengthening of them, and the touch in some degree at least, and at the same time continue al- ways with the learning of easy pieces by Htinten, BurgmUUer, etc. ; this must 63 always lead to some result without worrying yourself, the child, and the parents, and embittering piano-playing. If you wish to produce by means of the study of ordinary pieces, and above all without the most careful selection, the mechanical readiness, which surely is indispensable for execution, you might require much time, deprive the pupil of every pleasure and interest in it, and this young, girl Lizzie might far sooner get a husband than the satisfaction of executing a piece that she and others could enjoy. It will not do without a gradual development and training, without plan, reflection, meditation, speculation — without method. How can it come to anything if the child while playing has to fight at one and the same time with the touch, with the time, with the division, with the fingers, with the fingering, with the perfect knowledge of the notes (mistaking the bass notes for the treble notes) 1 And what a torment 1 "What a loss of time without result 1 (Schaefer has listened full of confidence, and a light seemed to have dawned on him. That and Schaefer go to tea. ) Mrs. H. Well, gentlemen, have you come to an understanding ? Is Lizzie not an obedient child 1 She has to practise every day for two hours — if she is ever so tired. Are we to continue in that way, Mr. That 1 Schaefer. Mr. That has dvawn my attention to several things, which I shall make use of. That. They were a few trifles. Hans H. I hope that after tea Miss Emma will also play us a small piece. Emma. The piano is very much out of tune, several keys are dumb, the pitch is flat, and the instrument altogether unsuitable to execute anything on it successfully. Hems H. Now, Miss Emma, I must beg your pardon : when we got the piano, sixteen years ago, it was praised by everybody as a capital piano. We made a good bargain at that time — for we bought it from our neighbour, who had for some years worked it nicely into playing order. Mr. Schaefer can confirm to you all I have said. (Emma nods doubtfully, and looks at Schaefer suspiciously. ) Hans H. (Continues.) My violin has certainly also improved since the time I spoke of, which is now more than twenty years, ago. If Lizzie were a boy, upon my honour, she would have to learn the violin, so that it might remain in the family ! Ha, ha, ha ! That. That would be extraordinary. (That wishes to take leave with his daughter. ) Mrs. H. (Condescendingly.) We hope to see you soon again, and then Lizzie shall play to you the Tremolo by Rosellen ; but Miss Emma must also play a small piece then. 64 !fkat. You ate extraordinarily kind. (That and his daughter make their bow. ) I have just got an invitation from Mr. Gold, the banker r we are to hear the great celebrated pianist Forte ; and, alas ! there is to be singing. We are quite delighted in anticipation. CHAPTER XII. Aphorisms concerning Piano-playing. My daughters play compositions by all great composers, and also the better class of drawing-room music. Every one-sidedness is detrimental to art. It is just as wrong to play only Beethoven, as to play nothing by him ; or nothing but classical or only drawing-room music. If the teacher chooses only the former for study, then a good technique, a tolerably sound play, intelligence, and knowledge, are sufficient to succeed in obtaining an execution that is for the most part satisfactory. The music mostly indemnifies for a style of playing that is, according to circumstances, dry, cold, and too little or not finely shaded, for an indifferent or negligent touch, and other defects. Even a pretty good player, from the interest he bestows principally upon the composition, is often drawn away from a thoroughly correct and fine execution by the endeavour to raise the com- position by the most beautiful representation possible, and to give it with the best effect. And enthusiasm at playing of classical music, if it is not hollow affectation, but a high revelation of the artistic nature, can take place only when the artist, and not the pupil, is in question. Therefore with more advanced pupils I take in hand, for example, at the same time with a Sonata by Beethoven, a Notturno or a Waltz by Chopin, and a piece by St. Heller or Schulhoff, Henselt, Carl Mayer, etc. Elegance, smoothness, certain coquetries, neatness, purity, shad- ings of any and of special kinds — the art of fine shading one must not wish to culti- vate on a Sonata by Beethoven : much better opportunity to do this is offered by 65 the iast mentioned pieces, etc. But variety also entertains the player much more, it fixes his attention, does not tire him so easily, guards him against negligences, furthers consciousness of art, and at last it surprises him agreeably if he is able to play at one and the same time three pieces so different in kind. " Execution cannot be taught — it must come of itself ! " When is it to come then 1 — When the stiff fingers are from fifty to sixty years old — and the execution remains fixed in them — so that nobody gets to hear anything I — what a worn-out idea ! Just let us consider some of those with whom execution came of itself. X plays in finished and correct style, but his execution remains inartistic, cold, monotonous, he has too pedantic a care for the mechanism and the strictest time-keeping, he ventures on no pp, he has too little tone and shading in the piano, and plays the forte too strong without consideration for the instrument. His crescendi and diminuendi are inappropriate, rough and often introduced in unsuitable places, and — his retardandi 1 Oh, they are very tiresome ! " But Miss Z, she plays differ- ently and more beautifully ! " She plays differently — but whether more beautifully — 1 Do you like this violet-blue loveliness — this sickly paleness — this painted lie at the expense of every truth of character 1 This affected and sweetly languishing manner, this rubato and tearing of musical phrases, this want of time-keeping, — this empty rubbish of feeling? Talent they both have— but the execution was left to develop of its own accord. Both would have become very good players — but now they hjive even lost the sense for idealistic aspiration, that moves within the limits of beauty, truth and natural- ness. If the pupils are left to themselves, they imitate easily and cleverly the inappropriate, the wrong things — but the appropriate, the right things, with difficulty and certainly with awkwardness. The little fellow that can scarcely speak already repeats a bad word, a slang word at once, and much more easily than a good one, that designates something noble. What teacher is there that has not already been surprised with that, and what old aunt has not already had occasion to laugh about it ! " One's own way of feeling must not be thrust upon others!" That is not at all necessary— but one must be able to awaken the feeling of others, to guide it, and to form it without infringing upon their individual way of feeling, if it is not clearly on a wrong road, without suppressing or perhaps even destroying it. Who is there that has not already heard Virtuosi and Singers that are in other respects to 66 outward appearance very musical, whose manner of feeling is either ridiculous or afflicting 1 It is admitted among other things that I have succeeded, more or less, with all my pupils, in producing a beautiful touch. You wish to possess the exercises necessary for that end? Thereby however not much is. gained yet, what it depends on is how and when they are employed, and that, during the playing of other studies and pieces, the closest supervision must not be wanting, and that nothing must be given to be practised and played alone, that endangers again the good touch which is not yet firmly enough established, and that always destroys again what has been built up in the lessons. As has been said, it does not depend on practising, on much practising, — merely on right practising, and on seeing that the pupil does not turn into circuitous or into wrong ways. People ask constantly : " how many hours a-day do your daughters practise and play 1" If it is the number of hours of daily practising that gives the measure to the position of a Virtuoso, then my daughters are amongst the most unimportant ones — or they do not at all belong to that class of persons. This is the place to express myself in greater detail upon the playing with a loose wrist, in order that I may not be misunderstood. The sounds that are produced with a loose wrist, will always resound softer, more charm- ing, and fuller, and permit of more and finer shadings, than the sharp and bodiless ones, which, with the assistance of the upper and lower arm are with unavoidable stiffness stung, tipped, or thrown out. Besides, with the rarest exception, a greater technique- is far sooner and more beautifully to be learned than when the elbow works actively at the same time and the power derived from it is superadded. On the other hand, I do not wish to blame if some Virtuosi execute a rapid octave passage with a stiff wrist — they often make it very precise, in the quickest tempo, powerfully and expressively. It depends on the individuality of a pupil whether he learns it best and quickest in this manner, or with a loose wrist. The present professional Bravour-playing cannot however do without expertness in octaves — this belongs to it. I now come to the operation of the loose and independent fingers in general playing, that is, with already advanced pupils, who have mastered the elements. The fingers must lay themselves on the keys with a certain firmness, decision, quickness, and strength, and learn to take a firm hold of the key-board, else we 67 get faint, colourless, uncertain, crude playing, from which no beautiful Porta- mento, no piquant Staccato, no vivid accentuation can develop itself. But let every teacher look to it, meditating and striving for what is best, that this is done only gradually, with constant regard to the individual, and not at the expense of a beautiful style and a soft and charming touch. It is to the confusion of a part of the critics, artists, composers, and teachers, that the great general public show for natural, chaste, and elegantly trained singing, and for elegant, noble piano-playing, much more just judgment and appreciation, and know much more quickly what they are about — than those do. Capability of feeling and sense for the beautiful on the part of the public are less prejudiced, less perverted, more susceptible, more natural, and their manner of conception is not disturbed by reflections, by eagerness for fault- finding, and many other secondary matters ; their point of view is not twisted and distorted. Jenny Lind is a striking proof of this, as well as several pianists. The new tendency proclaims also in piano-playing " a higher beauty " than has hitherto existed. Now I ask all those that have remained in their senses and the champions of this tendency : wherein is it to consist ? Surely people cannot talk at random about a beauty that cannot be explained ? Several of such men of beauty I have just heard playing — playing ? no, tramping and stamping, and according to my logic I have come to the con- viction that the meaning is : "a higher — quite different, quite opposite beauty " — an ugly beauty, which disagrees with every noble feeling of man. Yet our clever future age at once dismisses such a conservative point of view with Goethe : " Where ideas are wanting, a word presents itself at the right time." This piano-fury period described and lived through by me, is merely the introduction to this new work— only a gentle trial — only the first beginning to this piano of the future. Is it possible, then, that the most nonsensical raging and storming on the piano, when, during half-an hour not one musical idea became nor could possibly become clearly intelligible, and the most disagreeable and crudest treatment of a large Concert grand, continued with a frightful misuse of both the pedals, putting the surrounding persons into J 68 discomfort, terror, staring, and astonishment, can ever be, and be called any- thing else than " a monstrous degeneracy without sense or understanding ? " Is that meant for music, music of the future — beauty of the future? Then possibly other ears are to be made for it — other feelings to be got ready — another nervous system £o be procured % ! There we have the throat doctors again — they are already waiting in the back ground ! What a new, grand anatomic sphere of operation is opening for them ! Our times bring forth miscarriages that go intelligence of the intelligent comprehends — from which people start back shuddering and terrified. Scarcely have excesses in the world's history ended, far greater ones in music are to make up for it. But comfort yourselves, my readers : these solitary standing crazinesses — these last struggles of the musical madness — were they to be proclaimed with ever so much arro- gance, they will not storm through .the world. There is no longer a public for the thing, not even curious free-tickets, only a few paid needy people, would venture to endure such " Concert performances of the "Future." I am desired to express myself in regard to the superior style of execution in piano-playing ? This problem cannot be solved in writing, at least I cannot do it, I can only solve it practically on certain individuals. Such teachers as understand me and wish to understand me, will be sure to find in these Chapters the necessary material and the necessary indications for it, and I merely tell them : " You teachers, who are endowed with the three trifles, try to excite in your pupils these same three trifles, to illustrate them and to develop them as much as you can, with devotion, with energy, with logical consequence — and everything will come with truth and beauty. Then you remain still in the Present, where there is much and infinite work to do yet. These three trifles certainly are not rooted in silliness, in want of talent, in crazy nonsense — and for this reason it is that the possessors of these qualities root in the Future and proclaim superior, that is, opposite beauty. RULES FOR THE PIANO. " You must not begin a second piece, till you have mastered the first. You must not play by heart, but look to the notes', else you will not learn to play at sight. 69 You must not play any piece that is not properly fingered, that you may not get into a habit of wrong fingering. You must not look to the keys at springing notes and chords, because it withdraws the attention from the music. You must Jearn to count while playing, that you may always keep exact time." To do justice for once to the spirit of the times: such and similar things belong to the positions really gained by me. I wish the musicians of the Future may also gain their positions as happily — not by empty fine words and phrases, and by thrashing empty straw — but, by practical successful operation, and by striving for improvement. " But what is the use of your method, if we get pupils that have been playing for years many pieces from notes, but have played them badly, and who are to be brought to play better 1 " This is held up to me so often. Has not my first Chapter already answered that 1 First and foremost let all notes that have been played be put aside for a long time, for the bad playing of the pupil is so closely associated with these pieces, that all repairs are in vain, because the shaky house wants the foundation. Improve then, first of all the touch, form an improved and connected scale, let them frequently transpose the Cadence to the Dominant and Sub- dominant, prescribe on the diminished chords of the seventh passages of many varieties with a good, equal, and calm foundation of fingering, staccato and legato, piano and forte, and turn all your attention to loose fingers and loose wrist and — do not any longer allow playing in the air, etc. According to the capability of the pupil, do not be long in taking at the same time a piece entirely new to him. We cannot and must not wish entirely to transform such a pupil of a sudden, even if he were most anxious, and at the same time were most obedient. But you must choose for him a drawing-room piece quite adapted for the piano, easy for him, and short ; in which he can find pleasure because of an unaccustomed improved execution, which does not tire him. But should you find, that in it he falls ' into his old incorrect habits, and that his improved manipulation to which he has not yet got sufficiently accustomed, is endangered — well, then, put the piece aside again, 70 and take instead a small suitable study, a small Praeludium by Bach, etc. If you were to choose, however, for instance, a capacious Sonata, where the music can the easier draw him off again from the improved manipulation, then you lose out of sight your chief object, you employ yourself with secondary matters, you scold and speak in vain and will not succeed. Strive, think, and speculate only, and do it psychologically. All can be done, but nothing can be gained by precipitation, by forcing, and scolding. Learn to repair spoiled and over-strained Soprano voices — by doing so, one gets careful, patient, calm, humble — altogether a good man. Alas! that is a far more thank- less task and is far more rarely successful, whilst on the piano certain results are always to be obtained. An often discussed subject — I must once more refer to it, in order to come again to the assistance of our Ladies in their general piano-trouble. Since a short time ago, I have again heard performances in small and large companies — on used and unused, tuned and untuned pianos — before and after dinner — at ease and ill at ease — by elder and by younger Ladies — in this or in that town — with more or with less talent : the effect on the whole was the same : Your ear may perhaps find out, that they can get through the piece at home before the teacher and the parents, but that is not enough to save the hearer from weariness, discomfort, and all kinds of confusion. Respected Ladies ! you play over and over again two Mazurkas, two Waltzes, two Notturni and the Funeral-march by Chopin, the Mazurka and other pieces by Schulhoff, the, Trill-study and the Tremolo by Charles Mayer, etc. — it is all the same. You might perhaps master these pieces pretty well, but you do not master them, on the contrary you are mastered. You get confused, and the hearers still more so. At the end there are excuses of all kinds, doubtful praise, encourage- ment to continue thus, with an acknowledgment that the hands are so very suitable for piano-playing, with frightened, forced congratulations to the parents and the teachers, but people are glad that the fatal Soir6e is at an end, and — I myself, I am still sighing the next day over the unlucky, meagrely and tediously played Funerahmarch by Chopin, and over the timid B flat major Mazurka by Schulhoff, and especially over your left hand, which always fails you at the springing, difficult Basses now used, and at the much modulating and harmonious pieces. Your Bass-part is feeble from frightened and wrong sounds, several bass-notes do not sound at all, or the little finger remains disconcerted lying 71 on instead of striking courageously and boldly an elastic quaver, the chords are feeble and faulty, you do not give them their full value, you lift the hand too soon, because you are afraid you will not be able quickly enough to get at the low note again ; instead of that you prefer to remain hanging in the air — one missing sound draws another after it. The right hand, being the more skilful one, wishes to play with expression, and perhaps does so, but the thing becomes the moie observable because of that : the Bass note is wanting, or you mistake the key and lose yourself; in short, the thing comes to a horrible end. I have, in consequence, a restless night; — I dream, it is true, of your pretty hands, but the wrong or bad notes present themselves like haunting goblins and will- o'-the-wisps, and I rise with a head-ache instead of with pleasant recollections. Let me give you an advice : Play and practise your Bass-po/rts much and fre- quently, slow, and then faster, for a weelc or a fortnight, without using the right hand, that you. may be able to turn all your attention to it for clear, correct, and sure playing. And if thereafter you are able to get through your Mazurka tolerably, do not by any means think that you must therefore at once perform it before others, as usual under aggravating circumstances. You must 'first be able to play it for yourself with facility many times, also in a quicker tempo, readily and clearly, before you mean to perform it more slowly before others. First, at any rate, practise frequently the difficult parts of the right hand, and especially the difficult and bold conclusion, so as not to alarm the hearers with ruggedness, rustling, timidity, and faintness. " Beginning and ending well, — makes all well : " an old rule. And the springing Bass, first practise it over and over again by yourself — else it will not do ! An unclear and faulty - Bass without any expression and accentuation, spoils everything — even the good humour of your audience. Another thing : you know now the Hotturno" in E flat by Chopin, and you have played it along with several other things. A week after, you are suddenly asked to perform. You select this Notturno, for did you not play it for four weeks almost every day 1 Behold ! the evil genius of the piano presents itself — you again play a wrong note, in the Bass, and at the point where it modulates, the little, weak finger touches too timidly ; pah ! the Bass-sound is a failure. You get embarrassed and your embarrassment goes on increasing, the musical aunt also gets alarmed, your teacher's blood rushes to his head, and 1 1 — I murmur to myself : " c'est toujours la mime." Our present modern springing Basses require very much practice and great sureness : it is necessary that you should know the piece by heart so as to be able to direct your whole attention to the left hand — it is necessary that you acquire a good and firm touch ; else you cannot finely accentuate and shade— it is necessary that you should never play without preparation pieces where an elegant execution is of importance, else you will 72 dgain be tripped up by the single difficulties— it is necessary that you should especi- ally remember the foundation, the Bass, else the whole small house falls in ! The one thing is surely better than the other— of two evils people choose the least. You have been playing now from six to eight years. Is it worth the trouble, if you thereby prepare for yourself and others nothing but embarrass- ments ? Easy, unimportant little bits of things you do not wish to play, and^ such pieces do require diligence, earnestness, and perseverance. Young Ladies ! How a man stands, walks, moves, how he talks, bows, takes off and puts on his hat, and performs his home duties — by these marks one can recognise him easily, and one is rarely mistaken. The way you sit down before the piano from that one can almost decide beforehand how you play, what you can do, — You crawl to the piano slowly, almost under compulsion, bending somewhat, and shy, you sit down from embarrassment either before 1 or G 2 instead of F. — You are sitting doubtfully, only in a half and half way, with the body swung either too much to the right or too much to the left, too far from or too near the instrument, maybe even somewhat too high or too low, in one word, as if on the fatal stool you were in the wrong place. You sit in such a way that no confidence can be inspired by it, and you show by it that you have no confidence "yourself. How then could you possibly have under command a large seven octave grand piano if you do not sit exactly in the middle, with straight, erect body, and with both feet before the two Pedals ? You wish to converse and to have friendly and confidential intercourse with your friend, and half turned aside you do not want to look into his face ? If it even were not so detrimental and full of danger, as it really is, yet propriety itself, wisdom itself requires that by the right bodily movement, by a certain decision and determination, I should at the outset inspire the hearer with confidence in me and in my playing, and try to awaken a good opinion of me. Now, it is true, there are some Virtuosi who, by tossing themselves care- lessly, or throwing themselves with an easy air down on the chair before the piano, try to express the geniality that is wanting to their playing, or by fashionable negligence wish to indicate how much they are above a beautiful piano performance. But such manifestations of an educated mind, such an expression of earnestness of feeling is foreign to you; — you do the like only 73 from faint-heartedness, from a modest distrust in your powers, which you have no need of doing. Our great, good masters, such as Field, Hummel, Moscheles, Mendelssohn, and others, did not like such inappropriateness, such displays, such explosions of genius — they went before the public on their task with earnest- ness, devotion, and respect. Let us turn away from these piano-excesses — but not from the piano ! TALENTS. Manifold and rich experience is required in order rightly to appreciate young musical talents. The first manifestation of talent, interest in melody, feeling for time and for accent, tendency to a certain, though often wrong, execution, easy power of conception, a natural turn for playing, ear, versatility of mind, quick progress, pliancy, visible pleasure, — if all this, or part of it, is already observable in earliest youth, do not yet on that account raise sanguine hopes, and do not deceive yourselves. Such phenomena I have often met — I have had to train such like miraculous little animals. The progress was quick — they understood everything at once, if I did not take up continuously their fickle attention. I was already dreaming about immense sensation, which this clever wonderful youth would produce, when from twelve to fourteen years old : already I saw in my mind's eye the fulfilment of my ideal ! — but just then came the Stand-still, an awkward position, .when the teacher knows neither what nor how to do. Musical nature has so to say exhausted itself, outlived itself, — the pupil feels this himself, his interest in piano-playing, in music, subsides, all at once he plays carelessly, powerlessly, thoughtlessly — with a visible slackness. Out into the air— to open nature— travel ! I allowed long rests to step in ; he was content with that, did not ask for the piano, or he merely strummed. We begin again — but we grind on without great success — yet he became " a musician," but afterwards at the most he- classed among such players as can be found by the dozen, and at last he gave common-place piano-lessons. Similar stoppages, it is true, occur with all pupils and especially with girls, but they are not so lasting, so desperate, they do not announce such exhaustion. You ge't over it with a small pause, by relaxing serious studies, you play with them from the notes, you try theory, you make trials of composition and extemporizing, you have them hear other players, worse and better ones, you give them interesting books to read, perhaps make them acquainted with Beethoven, etc. h 74 Such experiences, then, and the unskilful treatment that often takes place with them, explain for the most part the" sudden turning up in our century and the equally quick disappearance of innumerable infant prodigies, who raised hopes, and who Lave almost all disappeared and hidden themselves, or have not become anything satisfactory. A development, which went on step by step, almost clumsily, often appar- ently in stagnation, yet nevertheless with a certain kind of steadiness, with some sensibility and a dreamy inwardness and a musical instinct, with which also may be associated a kind of dreaminess, which went on with a slow awakening, and required for an operation demanding such patience and perseverance six years and more, and at the same time where the childlike and the childish did not permit of any mischievous speculation as to the future, this I have always liked best, and the result, unless destiny stopped or forcibly disturbed my education and training, was always with me the desired one. . But what patience and perseverance are required for it ! Often have I meditated over the slow development of my pupils, and I have discussed it earnestly — also playfully: I may be allowed to do the latter here, and to that end I descend into the animal kingdom to establish five phases, five stages of human development. First stage. Maggot. In his first two or three years, man stands far below the animal, which knows with its splendid, very quickly developed instinct, how to distinguish the good from the bad — the useful from, the hurtful. The child, without thinking anything about it, .rolls down from the table and breaks his head, or poisons himself by licking poisonous herbs or arsenic. — Nevertheless let him hear many and clear sounds, music, singing, etc. He will soon learn to listen, together with the little black poodle. Some idea is dawning already in him that beside mamma, nurse, doll, birch, and sound of words, there is something else still, which is audible and not unpleasant to the ear. Second stage. Marmot. From four to seven years. Now is developed that instinct which is surprising to the observer in the first fortnight of the animal's life. Here begins the mechanism, at least with a correct finger movement on the table. The child is told that those beautiful sounds which he has heard from the time of his birth will now be produced by himself, but that for this a very quick and at the same time quiet finger-movement is required, which must be acquired by daily practising. That this is in the order of things, because man's destiny is to learn. He is made to strike on the table with the outstretched thumb, with his hand laid on the table and acting independently of the arm, — then with the first, second, third fingers in an almost perpendicular position, and with the little finger again in an outstretched position; — then with the thumb and second finger together he is made to strike a Third 75 with the thumb and third finger a Fourth, sometimes with the right hand, sometimes with the left hand, or with both hands together, &c. Just meditate a little, Gentlemen.: that is very interesting, if you are at the same time philosopher and teacher. As long as Composers do not study scores adapted to the voice — as long as the piano-teachers do not study logic, and the teachers of singing voices — how can matters improve 1 I return to the animal kingdom and call the Third Stage. Sea-calf. From seven to twelve years. The latest investiga- tions and observations in the animal kingdom have led to the conviction that it is no longer the elephant that is the most sagacious animal, but the " Sea- calf," -which already evinces some kind of human sensation, especially when it is to be killed. It tries to arouse compassion, etc. In short, this animal also pleases me better than the clumsy elephant. At this stage naughtiness begins, and at the same time begin — the notes, — but not Beethoven. That would be an unlucky musical philanthropy ! — Violent displays of force, the uncouth, the running off with the table corners, a zig-zag of sturdy instinct and thoughts quick as lightning, giddy and naive notions, disobedience, much appetite, etc., all this one must try to model and to make use of for one's end. You understand me, Gentlemen ? Fowrth stage. Man i No, indeed, " Man " does not advance so fast. You good parents, who would like so much to see ripe fruits for your care and trouble, be patient ! — Before that there is to come human presentiment ! It is a nice point of view : youth steps from the animal kingdom into that of man and is often .unable to forget the former, revels still in sweet recollections of it. Try now gently and cautiously Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, and the like. This peculiar species " one-fourth animal three-fourths man," needs stimulation, warming up, the most judicious guidance, and also fancy; — it must be stirred and shaken, so that reflection, consciousness, feeling of the spirit, disposition, creative power, inward conditions of formative power may be preserved, and one must endeavour to bring this chaos to a distinct and beautiful appearance. Now comes the Fifth Stage. This is better than the third stage of our opera singers " Man " in his eighteenth year. The years you must modify for yourselves according to the individuals — wholly at your pleasure. But if I were further to enlarge on the four natural history stages of man, and moreover treat on man himself, should I not have to write a whole book, and — that could not be interesting. I have already, as it is, to request your indulgence for my jest — should I be obliged to implore it for a wearisome book 1 My daughters would not thank me for that, — they are very sensitive. — But, nevertheless, I must very gently whisper to you : 76 " My daughters, like many other daughters, have lived through these five nice musical stages in the most careful and the most complete manner ! " — I must know that hest ! Here is the answer to many curious questions. CAUTION. I caution my piano-players — and others too — while they are playing : 1. Against every improper and overdone demeanour. Why wish to make an' appearance and an impression by foppishness, grimaces of all sorts — why by the oddest and strangest Virtuoso like affectation ? Play only beautifully and musically, comporting 3'ourselves modestly and becomingly, direct your whole attention to the business in hand, to the performance, and try to interest the public, which is so easily distracted, In your performance • alone. — Fools of genius must no longer play in public. 2. Do not apply yourselves principally to artistic specialities. Why show off ever and again your Octave-play, your shakes, your expertness in. jumps, enor- mous expansions or other self-invented piano-tricks 1 By this you do nothing but cause weariness, ennui) disgust — at least you make yourselves ridiculous. 3. Play good music, but in a musical, sensible manner. The public does not want to hear any longer the paltry hotch-potch, the tedious studies, the Transyl- vanian rhapsodies, the fantasias without phantasy, the monotonous piano-horror, the endless, cheap, unmeaning, absurd cadences. Learn, then, to recognise your time, and look about you in the world. Why wish always to bore on the same spot into - the wall with the horn you were born with ! Is that the future or the past I i. Do not make yourselves ridiculous with new inventions in piano-playing. I mention for instance the most foolish one of these times. You want to produce a tremolo on one note, as the violinists and the cello players — more's the pity — do far too much. Do not let yourselves be laughed at by every piano-maker's apprentice. Do you, then, understand nothing whatever of the mechanism of a piano ? You have been handling it and partly storming about on it for decades, and do not even obtain a superficial knowledge of the mechanism 1 While the tone is resounding, the hammer, which has produced the tone by touching the strings, falls off at once, and bow you may afterwards fondle the touch which put the hammer in motion and push about on it and stagger about giddily as much as you like — nothing can come out of it, be shaken out of it, be tremulated out of it. Only the public tremulate, that is, smile over your harlequinade. 77 5. Leave alone the many and wide spans. Scattered harmonies, it is true, produce beautiful effects, but not by a too frequent' and anxious application at every possible opportunity. What is most beautiful in art may become affec- tation, and it ever leads to onesidedness. Art must] be many-sided and never must there be a glimmer of the intention of turning the means into the end. And further, I also* give it to be considered that too frequent and too wide stretching enervates the muscles, and endangers and renders doubtful the entire power of the fingers and the hand, an even and healthy touch and the best play. Very cautiously, therefore, and only .by degrees, let the teachers train the hands of their pupils, especially of young girls, to expansion and a -wider spanning. To be able to learn at last to span a tenth — I should think that would be enough. 6. Ladies ! you have conjured up for yourselves, beside your want of self- confidence, from which springs unartistic, nervous haste, an additional small piano demon in the latest fashion. Sleeves or cuffs almost a yard in circumference swing and flap around your beautiful arm, and coloured ribbons, too, swing and flap around your wrist, and consequently when yeu have to play lively figures and passages all over the keyboard up and down, -you drag behind with your arms these white, tender, large laced bags, and at crossing over you have to lift your hands double the necessary height else they get into danger of burrowing into each other's bags — and instead of hearing sounds the hearers might only in the end get to see arms, though beautiful ones, without hands. But to this sensible piano-swing you add, moreover, a light shawl, which flutters about roguishly on both arms, that your fight with obstacles may be sure to get still greater and more visible. The rings, the bracelets, the curls hanging down over the face, the tight- laced body, and so forth — I. will not go on to consider at all. 7. Before performing a piece, play up and down in piano and forte, in general with shading, some skilful chords and some elegant passages or scales, but no stupid stuff, as I have heard many Virtuosi do — that you may try whether the condition of the piano at the moment does not put some unexpected obstacle in your way. With those wonderful bags over your arms, and with the roguish shawl, you are at least conversant, and you have had to make yourselves conversant with them while eating and drinking, to avoid dipping them into your food — but here you certainly might have to contend with something unforeseen. And be sure to sound well the inevitable pedal ! A rattling, squeaking, rumbling pedal is a frightful piano-phenomenon, and I should like to know whether the democratic piano of the future will also deal in that. The funeral march by Chopin, with the necessary accompaniment of a groaning pedal, even if you should not miss the right keys in the Bass, or omit some of them altogether — who can describe the effect of this mournful marchi 78 8. Concerning sitting at tbe piano, I have, with your permission, pre- pared a separate small paragraph — and I refer you' to that. 9. While studying, leave alone all exterior means of assistance — even the " silent keyboard," which, with the most cautious application, might not be. with- out advantage. Strength, you may be sure, will come in time — do not act precipi- tately as regards your nature — the table is the best silent keyboard. I have treated of that already. Neither is the hand-guide necessary. The advantages are fully equalled by its disadvantages. 10. Do not allow the audience to be too close to you while you are playing. Do not play the same piece as an encore, but you may stop in the middle of your playing if there is loud and continuous speaking, etc. Do me the honour once more to attend my soirees. I am no dramatic poet, I confess, but I can relate to you many an interesting and comical thing, and many a thing that I have myself experienced. CHAPTER XIII. Quack Doctors. "We have no longer an Opera in Europe —merely opera-houses that wait in vain for the Ensemble, which can no longer be had. There are left only solitary singers and lady-singers, and even these are already partly rujns as regards sing- ing. They are travelling about and assisting here and there, or they are standing solitary, and round about them is a veritable singing misery. Nowhere is to be found now the artistic ensemble which twenty-five or thirty years ago, in Vienna, Dresden, Berlin, Paris, and London, enchanted every one and made an impression never to be forgotten ; for that which is absolutely beautiful, be it ancient or new, will always produce the same effect. All that is now left to us is the recollection, and our sole consolation is that our young composers of the progressive party and 79 our music philosophers are kind enough to be indulgent with this weakness of old age — a point of view they have long ago advanced beyond — and to jud^e it with forbearance. This, it is true, requires a 'degree of resignation which we must thankfully recognise ; for they are already sufficiently above this paltry sphere, in which beautiful singing moves in endless gradations, and affords composers boundless scope for action, because they stir within themselves nothing but great things and place themselves at the fresh youthful stand-point of the present music of the future. Since, however, one step in advance brings another after it, the singing-masters, the hodmen, walk of course behind, and when they also have advanced beyond one point of view, namely that of " the old school," they furnish the stones for the new building — for the new Declaiming and Instrumental- operas. So they no longer train singers, but " screamers," who occasionally add something of their own in small quaver-melodies and many detached scream- ing explosions. The new position calls this to be dissolved in the .artistic work — we ancient ones however call it to be dissolved without artistic work. We obstinately refuse to budge ffom our position, and believe rigidly and firmly that noble, chaste singing, with its ever-endnring charm and sustained and protracted melody, must remain true as long as music shall exist. No doubt this standing- still of ours must be regretted by the party of Progress. According to the latter, this same art of singing still belongs solely to the " old ear and the old school," no longer to life and to young improved ears who have to " solve " quite other problems than to prepare for man the highest enjoyment of art by means of that beautiful singing style which has been established now for three hundred years. This they have luckily overcome, then, and also these " vexatious melodies," but there are yet left some other difficulties to overcome. In particular none of us — alas, and there are many of us who found the high, beauti- ful, incomparable problem " solved " in the artistic singing of Catalani, Fodor, Persiani, Grisi, Schroder-Devrient, Milder-Hauptmann, Jenny Lind, Henrietta Sontag, Rubini, Lablache, and others— none of us join in " solving the problem," nor shall we at all " resolve"' to take many tickets for such performances ; for if we wish to hear instrumental music, then we go to hear symphonies, etc. Our conservative ears take no delight in those raging, furious instrumental masses, in those roaring sounds in which the hunted and tormented singer can only join with a tortured, unnatural, disagreeable, ripieno-voice. Although Kant has called the "Sublime" a "pleasure effected through pain," (possibly, however, he does not refer to the pain of tormented singers)— -we nevertheless think on the other hand according to our mistaken judgment, that the ''disagreeable" is a self-destroying lie, that it can only be transitory, and can never become "truth." I cannot refrain since we speak of the " disagreeable," to confess that I have just lying 80 before me a composition by a celebrated composer of the " hewesb progress party." It consists of a queer, bombastic, and much, modulating piano-study, to which he has added here and there solitary notes 'with underlying text. On the ^top above is printed " Longing for the distant loved one ! " A conservative like myself, who misjudges the newly begun Messianic period *' in its essence, " and who cannot banish from his ears the airs of Fr. Schubert and the " Distant loved one " by Beethoven, thinks "Longing for present singing nonsense by a man of pro- gress" would be a much more descriptive title. But to return to the " grand disagreeable ! " Those great instrumental operas by Berlioz, Halevy and others, cannot do with such glass-shade-singers as the above-mentioned — (not to make allusion to the story of the fox and the grapes), — they have nevertheless — and that is another difficulty — to look about for such as have much voice and are able and willing to scream with all their might. But since the vitality of the voices that are made to fit to these new works of art can naturally be but very limited, and since, on the other hand, dread of these gigantic tasks will prevent many singers from letting their powers be ruined in the Art of the Future, so the deficiency in good singing powers must become greater and greater the more actively the men of progress create new works of art and have them performeH. This of course must in some clever manner be compensated for, and I doubt not that the inventive powers of the progress- party will also be able to solve this problem. I hear already something of several proposals; for instance, to have the text declaimed by declaimers with stentorian voices, who are much easier to find than soprano-voices, and to have the above-mentioned repieno-sounds played by several large tubas, so that the " total-effect" may not be lost. And — seriously : that will certainly not sound any longer so nervous but much more natural ; and then we old ones shall also be sufficiently curious to listen to this wonderful music, and perhaps may thus be induced to follow the trail of the progress-party. But further : what a gain, what bliss, then, for the poor tormented conductors! No illness, no caprice, no nervousness, no disgust, no terror of the singers 'at such tasks, will any longer disturb the per- formances, and should ever such a tuba meet with an accident, a new one can easily be at once obtained for a few crowns, and progress then suffers no longer the least delay, the least interruption. Yet, in the meantime, singing is still to continue to be a small part of the wholel — Well, our times, which can boast of so many wonderful phenomena, may perhaps also assist in that, and the throat physicians of Paris, London, and other places, may probably be only gentle forerun- ners of special quack-doctors, who are already quietly making experiments in their subterranean laboratories, by means of animal and artificial magnetism, galvanism, electric batteries, or maybe even by means of ethereal singing-telegraphs, to assist the torn and worn throat-voices of progress and to breathe into them indestructible 81 Hfe. This certainly would be the most desirable thing, since tubas are truly not so presentable as real nicely dressed human beings, if these no longer give out crushed, strained, squeaking, and groaning sounds, but are able with a full indestructible chest to operate in concert with trumpets, trombones, and big drums. Till the above-mentioned experiments have come into practical use, / myself however shall take the liberty to come forward as "Quack-doctor," and with one bold hit at our opera-life, to give a description of The three stages op our Lady Opera Singers. Our Mezzo-Sopranos, who are obliged (because of the present high pitch and other reasons) to screw up their voices in the opera a third and perhaps even more, and in doing so make use of the modern forced manner of singing, undergo generally within the space of from one to three years — according as they possess a more or less firm, fresh, full, high voice, the following three stages : — First Stage. By undertaking the too high, first youthful parts, or maybe even the unsingable ones in the newest progress -operas, the still fresh, vigorous- life gets, indeed, boldness, expertness, security in the high notes — and yet the gain is only in appea/rance. — The medium register gets pale, rather un- certain, and meaningless, the intonation changes, wastes breath and aspirates too much, the pronunciation gets more burdensome, and the sound begins to retreat into the throat; — the voice does not feel any longer comfortable in. this region, the separation of the registers becomes audible, etc. At this point help is still possible, if the singer without delay withdraws from the opera and endeavours to regain and to restore the middle register by gentle study, and also under the careful supervision of a skilful and experienced teacher, the clear body of air, for the production of a correct head tone and — brings back the artificially and wantonly forced up voice with great self-command into the natural correct position. The last two lines — I do not deny it — are written for our artistic, highly admired Johanna Wagner, who with six operas lying within tlie range of her voice would conquer the world, while honest and sensible criticism must find fault with her. Second Stage. The high sounds become uneven, sometimes uncertain, be- gin to seek for the tone and to force it out, instead of drawing it out, require more exertion of strength — more breath ; they are, indeed, still powerful and possibly more dexterous, but some tones already scream or miss, and the two highest ones now emit but rarely an easy and free sound, they have 82 tattler to be pinched, sought for and squeezed out. — Transition to a hollow, fabricated throat-tone. The body of air begins to flutter about in the mouth (from a too low intonation), or the singer comes upon the tones with too much consumption of breath (from a too high intonation) — the pronunciation gets worse, the tongue wishes to assist, and many an unseemly thing commences, although outward musical stage effects are still obtained, especially because of improved dexterity. — But now ! — The middle register has already passed into a dull, veiled throat sound ;— it is almost without pith and without body, and has no longer any colouring or energy, no sharp intonation, the pro- nunciation is indistinct and faulty, all expression has then vanished— there is no longer any connection with the head-voice, the broad vowels are no longer sufficient, neither is pushing and aspirating any longer of assistance — short breath and helplessness are commencing — and this middle register is in fact as good as lost already. At this point a rescue is seldom possible, un- less the singer is not yet out of her teens, is of a very strong constitution, and has possessed great vocal resom-ces and excellent fundamental training, and is willing and able to rest for a year or two. Afterwards, perhaps, with good, careful study, united with the sharpest observation, many things may be restored, as, strange to say, it happened with Jenny Lind. — Now quick to the Third Stage. Ruin ! — Increased dexterity, boldness, d, plomb, passionate execution, skill in ornamental passages, stage-tricks can no longer mislead the expert, and now it is only in single notes in the high parts and in the lower parts, on which the singer throws all her energy, that she is able still to produce some kind of an opera effect. — The middle register is gone, the body of it has vanished, everything is hollow and spiritless — the coquettish pp. is without effect and disagreeable, the pronunciation lost — jarring and trembling set in when not wanted, and also in the high notes a most disagreeable crushed nasal tone. Here people say : " she might be a good singer, if she had a voice ! " — Rest is no longer of any use here against these consequences of foolhardiness, thoughtlessness and disobedience. A piece of rare good fortune it is if health is not undermined, and if the girl of twenty-three has still left a place of refuge to weep over her pitiful fate without care for subsistence, if she does not see herself forced to give singing-lessons, and even by that to accomplish horrifying things. — Let us leave this sad picture ! I mean to surprise you ladies with a more pleasant one ! Fourth Stage. Accept of my sincerest congratulation on your betrothal ! The marriage I hear is to be in a month ? Will your Ladyship go to your landed estate or remain in town ? " That depends entirely on my beloved, dearest, artistic husband. His presence will indemnify me everywhere for 83 my artistic triumphs, which. I have renounced because of my ardent love for him." This, your Ladyship, is a magnanimous resolution ! — and art of course remains always with you still 1 CHAPTER XIV. Mrs. Grand and Four Lessons. Mrs. Grund. How then has it come about that your daughters have been able to perform the very many pieces which we have heard them play, without the least sticking or interruption, quite healthily, clearly, with most thorough comprehension, with full expression, and with the finest shading — with complete command ? I myself have had pretty good instruction from my youth upwards, I have also for a long time played scales and studies, and under Kalkbrenner and Hummel I have studied and diligently practised several compositions of theirs ; moreover my talent has been highly praised: — and nevertheless I have never had the satisfaction of being able to perform any great important piece entirely to the satisfaction of myself or of other people. And I fear it will be the same with my daughter Amalia. That. To enable me to give you a satisfactory answer, I must first of all request you to read my former chapters several times over, to examine them, en- large on them, and to make them quite your own. I shall add some points, and make clearer to you what has been only hinted at there, or has been touched upon in too short a manner. — While I avail myself of this occasion to lay before you some additional principles of teaching and views of mine concerning musical education and training, mostly with regard to piano-playing, I take the liberty to put once more before you the seasonable observation contained in the Fourth Chapter : our fashionable ladies do also in regard to music and its execution make now higher claims and pretensions than they did formerly, and consequently their own produc- tions on the piano generally do not satisfy sufficiently their more or less cultivated 84 sense of the beautiful (awakened further by their careful education in other re- spects) to have and to give unalloyed joy. This produces distrust in their own strength, which prejudices the boldness indispensable to the execution, which must grow up even to confidence of infallibility. But remember that this confidence is again based only on a healthy, rich toned, sure, beautiful and full touch, which those masters and teachers, as well as almost all who have followed them have neglected far too much, and do neglect still. On this foundation-stone alone can be laid a sound technique and its continual advancement ; which, moreover, with our softly leathered pianos which are far more difficult to play on than formerly, requires twofold attention. It is a mistake to think that the correct touch which alone permits of a satisfactory execution will come of itself by playing studies and scales. I have at former times even in masters found no faultless, healthy, grand touch, except in Field and Moscheles, and among the most recent ones in Thalberg, Chopin, Mendelssohn, and Henselt. And now I come to speak on the choice of the pieces. Well, our ladies are not satisfied with pieces that come easily to the fingers, and present few diflS.- culties, to which they ought to add by degrees more difficult ones while continuing at the same time correct studies ; on the contrary, they grasp eagerly at larger pieces by Beethoven, C. M. Von "Weber, Mendelssohn, Chopin, and others ; but, for a change, they also like the Bravura pieces by Liszt, Thalberg, Henselt, and others. Where in this case is mastery to come from, when even the first musical training with our increased requirements in the technique was not suffi- cient to stand close examination, and the subsequent instruction was too defective and unsystematic ? If you were now, for instance, to ask me to restore, in some degree at least, the wanting equilibrium with you yourself, before I undertake the further training of your daughter : then I would not begin with a Bueffel's wisdom thus : " Madam, before everything you must for two hours daily labour through scales in all major and minor tones unisono and in thirds and sixths — and besides, every day from three to four hours, studies by Clementi, Cramer, and Moscheles — else nothing can come of your playing ! " This, it is true, many Bueffels have said already, and say every day still — but we shall pass to the previous question on so unreasonable a suggestion. No, first of all I shall endeavour to improve and embellish your touch, which is too thin, meagre, and unhealthy, which makes too many unnecessary, restless, and inappropriate movements, does not seize the keys firmly enough, and searches for the tone too much up in the air, and I must succeed in this in a short time since I have before me feminine, young, well-formed, soft hands and dexterous fingers with good dispositions and healthy organisation. For this I employ several of the short exercises mentioned in the first chapter, 85 which I have you play in any desired key without notes, that you may be able to turn your whole attention to your hands and fingers. First of all you may see and hear how and with what calmness, security, and ease I try to draw from the pianoforte the most beautiful sound possible with a soft finger-movement and correct position of the hand, without any outward apparatus, without a restless, pushing, ^or shrugging arm. Certainly scales must be taken into the bargain, for it is necessary to bestow great care and attention on a timely and quiet passing of the fingers, and further on a correct and quiet guidance of the arm. But we shall be satisfied according to capacity with a daily quarter of an hour's practising of scales, which I shall have played, according as I may judge, staccato, legato, quickly, slowly, forte, piano, with one hand, with two hands, and so forth — because, be it observed, in your case I have not to deal with stiff fingers, nor with an unpractised or spoiled hand. In the case of youthful beginners, whose fingers are weak, etc., there can be no question but of piano without any shading whatever until the fingers are strengthened. This I continue for a fortnight, but every day in a different manner, and with manifold variations ; and after a few lessons we go to unite with this the learning of two pieces adapted to the piano, the Minuet in E flat by Mozart, arranged by Schulhoff, and his Chanson a boire, or similar pieces ; — Beethoven we shall most certainly leave alone. You are afraid I may get tedious 1 — I never was tedious in instruction ; whether I am so at other times I cannot judge, but I have grown older — and shorter. I have still to remark that, when I am not present, you must in the meantime practise no pieces and no scales, until a calm improved touch has taken firmer root j you also must in the first place consign to total forgetfulness your former pieces, for these would give the best opportunity to return to the former faulty style of playing. Soon, however, I arrive at the execution of one of my teaching maxims ; all my pupils must have some piece, merely intended for mechanical dexterity, that accompanies them on all their ways, and by a complete mastering of this piece they must learn to acquire a confident boldness. That is their friend, their lap-dog, their support. I accustom them, so that it becomes a kind of necessity to them to play this piece — I do not mind whether it is done without any mental exertion and in a purely mechanical manner — at the beginning of the lesson and before practising alone, once or twice, maybe at first slower and then quicker; for without ready and flexible fingers all talking and teaching is useless and unavailing. Mrs. Grund. But which pieces 1 That. For beginners perhaps one or two from the Etud,es melodiques by Hunten — for advanced pupils a study from the very suitable Op. 740 by 86 Czerny, and for still further advanced ones if they can already span far, correctly, and with ease, the latter's Toccata Op. 92. — a piece which my daughters never lay aside, though they may not play it every day. With such and similar pieces which satisfy the most necessary mechanical wants (in which for instance exercises in thirds, shakes, extensions, passages for the strengthening of the third finger and scales are specially aimed at), you change from every two to every four months, and I place you, if possible, always in close connection with the pieces, sonatas, variations, concertos, etc., you are just about to study. But also in the learning of the pieces themselves I proceed differently — and I hope never pedantically, but more carefully, more psycho- logically, more artistically than the above-mentioned masters and several others are wont to do. It is to be seen how on the one hand they, even with the best intentions, get into a sort of sauntering manner, because of too much teaching, especially to untalented pupils ; a certain kind of impatience, a want of interest is often to be observed with them, especially with the teaching of their " own compositions.'' On the other band they limit the range of observation of the pupil by one-sided views and capricious demands, by hair-splitting, and all sorts of eccentricities, and they diminish or destroy his interest in the task. Mrs. Grund. Your thoughtful style of procedure is very interesting and convincing. But let me request of you an answer to some doubts and remarks, which are now and then expressed especially by teachers against you and your method. That-. I am accustomed to that. What is good and beautiful never entirely -gains an undisputed approval. Never has anybody yet put up any new, improved, or beautiful thing, and spoken the truth dauntlessly, without being attacked, cried down, insulted, or totally misjudged. Our century has proved this often. Recollect Homoeopathy, Magnetism, Clara Wieck in Leipzig before she had been in Paris, Marie Wieck because she does not play just exactly in the same manner as Clara, and my book here which treads piti- lessly on the corns of the times, and on their incredible foolishness and piti- ableness, and — I am quite prepared for all kinds of attack. Mrs. Grund. Nevertheless I would- remark to you that other teachers also take much trouble and are very careful, but have not the fortune to teach such daughters as you. That. "Take trouble?" What does that mean? If it is not the right trouble in the right place and at the right time — then it is a useless one. What is the use of a stupid awkward diligence ? If, for instance, a teacher, in order to improve the stiff fingers, wrists, in one word — the touch of his pupil, chooses a strange study or piece with great spans and arpeggios 87 for tlie left hand and with this take extraordinary trouble : then this and similar things are very remarkable, but nevertheless it remains a comfortless trouble, which makes matters still worse. And as regards my daughters? They have, above all, the good fortune to have, and to have had — me for father and teacher. Yes, certainly — talent they have, and I succeeded in awakening and developing it. True, the hard benevolence of people in Saxony, envy, ill-will, arrogance, offended egotism tried to contest that as long as it was possible — but it cannot be done any longer. Instead of that they say now : "That is no art, to make such talented persons good piano-players — that comes almost entirely of itself ! " As commonly as this is maintained, even by thinking and educated people who do not belong to a clique, so thoroughly untrue and contrary to all experience it is. Lichtenberg in one place says : " the thing that everybody agrees in is the very thing thai requires investigation." Well ! I have investigated it with my three daughters and all talented pupils whom I trained to be good amateurs, and according to circumstances to be good Virtuosi. .All these, and they are very many, may answer that, and I add further only, that it is these very persons talented in singing and in the pianoforte — (look about you at the countless number of shipwrecked talents and genius) — it "is these very persons, I say, that require the most care- ful, the most judicious, the most circumspect guidance, for it is they who have the irresistible tendency, to be left to themselves — they prefer ruin brought upon them by themselves to rescue by the help of others. Mrs. Grand. But it is further said that you have made Yirtuosi of your three daughters alone — not of others. That. Madam, you are jesting ! If I were to count down to you Leporello's register, you would justly look at it as an exaggeration. But if, instead of any answer, I pray you to read my chapters frequently and after three or four years to embrace your daughter as an excellent pianist, then you must excuse me this because of my vanity and skill. Why are you just the mother by means of whose support I can promise this ? But, further, I certainly do not possess an enchanted wand, which envy and ignorance I trust will not attribute to me as a crime. But if circumstances were not wholly unfavourable, I have everywhere, even in . a short time, effected a good, at least an improved touch, and thus laid a foundation, in doing which other teachers with their method, or rather with no method, appear to have been less successful. But you have something more on your mind ! Mrs. Grund. You anticipate me. I was brought up in Berlin, and in the Capital of Intelligence people love opposition, denial and thorough criticism. How can you form people to be Virtuosi and artists when you yourself are too little of a Virtuoso— not even a Composer and learned Contrapuntist 1 A 88 teacher of music gains, for example, much, in esteem, if he himself plays concertos, composes nice things, and if he, as I have been told, is able to calculate and invent Double and Triple Fugues and Canons retrogressive and retro- gressive inverted. Nay, you cannot even accompany your pupils with the violin or flute, which nevertheless is said to be of great use and advantage. That. You are too amiable — else I should think you were malicious and cruel, and that you wished waggishly and mischievously to give me the Motto for a second part of a book, while I have not yet finished the first. No ! the Is are rarely capable of a self-sacrificing usefulness in teaching — that lies in the nature of things ; and even the child finds out exactly whether the teacher thinks of the child's progress alone, or pursues other interests of his own. The former practice bears good fruit — the latter very doubtful. The position of several of these teachers may be sketched thus : — Within their horizon they have drawn nothing but their own I, they are surrounded by nothing but 7s, they speak of nothing but Is, and refer everything only to the Is, and with this they are perhaps even so-called Virtuosi and piano- travellers who compose their own music, or — the more learned, the more per- verse — live, count and work in and make their business of Double and Triple- fugues, and think this alone is the real and correct musical foundation, and at the same time rejoice in the possession of a touch, as, for example, their brother, the teacher Strict, in the 8th Chapter, and to whom the three trifles in the 9th Chapter are all Greek, and will and must for ever remain so — but . who are obliged with their fruitless doings to regard piano instruction (which lies so far from their ideas) just as a thing by tlie way, and as a milch-cow, and rob the hopeful parents of their money and the poor victims of their time — no ! the numerous specimens of such positions I really cannot detail to you : do you yourself penetrate such agreeable personages — I could not punish you worse. But as regards the violin and the flute, — these means of assistance I have not penetrated — I have not learned this method. There occur however to my mind a couple of interesting representatives, that I had occasion to observe in my journeys with my daughter in a not unimportant city, and because they are droll exceptions, I will here describe them somewhat minutely. The teacher with the flute-case was a mild, quiet, sweet, soft musician ; he got on well with his pupil, a young lady, he did not scold — everything went off peacefully and passionlessly but in time. Both tripped on very calmly and agreeably, and played in honour of the birthday of an old, rather deaf aunt, a Sonatina of Kuhlau, which they could both manage. The old aunt, who of course could hear nothing of the soft flute nor of the mild, thin, modest, square piano, always enquired of me : " Does it not sound very fine, what do you say to it 1 " I nodded and praised, because they played modest music, after their way, without offensive pretension. But now I pass over to the violin-case — and because the proprietor of it was a type of pretentiousness, vulgarity, and roughness, and could impose on his pupils and their parents by his feigned good qualities. Therefore he stood in some repute, was on the whole a good musician, played the violin pretty well, and let his pupils get through the Op. 17 and 24 by Beethoven. With this counterfeit I present to you the musical violin-specimen as a teacher of the piano. He of course did not play the piano at all, nor did he take any interest whatever in Wieck's beauty-rubbish — only in Beethoven — and only sometimes did he try spider-like to spin out the fingering of some passages, in which however he rarely succeeded. All his pupils had the remarkable peculiarity that they also played in time, except when they stuck at the difficult parts, when he always got very rude and vulgar and spoke of " being careful," and by that means inspired respect. These pupils did not trip, however — on the contrary, they rejoiced in a curious knocking and stumbling touch, and at the same time writhed about among the keys with a kind of boldness and with a decided shrugging of the elbows. Tone they had none, it is true, but instead of that his violin was heard the better, and after each execution the words : "am I not the first teacher in Europe 1 " ! Mrs. Grand. You have painted me there two ridiculous figures. That. Yes, but everybody must bear the blame if they make themselves ridiculous. Mrs. Grund. I am glad that you have put me up to the necessary points, else I might have had to fear lest, in one of the early parties, perhaps at Mr. Gold the banker's, I should have to make one of your standing-figures. But since I like your answers, I shall listen when with a certain, although not numerous clique, who are totally hostile to you and your exertions, and strive to counteract you — and I shall communicate everything to you. That. Those people, it is true, would act more wisely, if they were to study my Chapters, but they shall be enlightened if I can add anything for the sake of truth, right and beauty. Permit me now in a few lessons soundly to teach Miss Amalia, who is pretty far advanced and not quite spoiled, these not easy Variations by Herz, Les trois graces, No. 1, on a theme from the Pirata, without tiring her or spoiling her interest in the lesson. I have intentionally chosen these Variations, because they claim no higher musical value, and therefore the performance, the execution must claim the chief attention. Besides they have this fault as regards teaching, that they contain unequal difficulties, but so much the more must the teacher know how to equalize these faults with ease and skill. M 90 First Lesson. Miss Amalia, these are pretty, elegant Variations, which demand a particularly neat, delicate execution — above all a complete mechanical •mastery of the difficulties which intermittently occur in them and which are rather unequal. If, however, these Variations should yet appear too easy to you, the following principle determines me to this choice : whatever we wish to learn to play well, must on the whole he below the mechanical capabilities of the pupil. The Italian singing theme which is the basis of the Variations is well chosen, and we must apply special care to execute it as beautifully as possible, and as it were to imitate the singer on the pianoforte. In doing this, a very careful and correct employment of the damper-pedal will at a later stage assist us excellently. It does not offer mechanical difficulties, but it requires a free, broad, full-bodied and yet soft touch, a good Portamento and a neat finely shaded execution, for — mark well : a good and well-trained pupil and player can already be recognized by the performance of a simple theme I Amalia. But you do not begin at the beginning — there is an intro- duction. That. This I may take perhaps last — I don't know yet when. Other perverse things will strike you in my teaching — the result may perhaps assist me to regain the desired credit. Amalia. Do you always give such preliminaries, before you begin a piece with a pupil 1 That. I like to do so, because first of all I wish to interest the pupil in it, and then try to unite with it my principles and views about music and piano-playing. "We shall take then first the theme and the not difficult first variation, and at the end the last bars which introduce the theme, and which must be played very neatly and connectedly. From the introduction we employ at first only the right hand, with attention to the most suitable fingering, which, however, I never write above it completely, but merely indicate now and then, not to prejudice the learner's own activity — and then for the left hand we take one or more parts from the finale. In doing so we observe carefully the prescribed marks of expression, and try to make the'rendering of everything pure and healthy, for a negligent bass damages the best playing of the right hand.— My lesson is over, because at the beginning we have spent too mueh time over the scales, the correct supporting of the . fingers, the various kinds of touch, and the exercises most suitable for it. — For home practice I do not yet give you the theme and the first variation with the left hand together, because you do not touch and detach precisely and equally enough the springing bass in it, and in this way you might get yourself into some bad habits, especially since your left hand is, as 91 usual, neglected, and is inferior to the right hand in quickness and ease. This would only detain us, for the main point is not to practise much, but to practise correctly. These passages you. must first play slow, then quick, once very quick — slow again, sometimes staccato, sometimes legato, piano, and also in a moderate strength, but on no account with tired hands and fingers, therefore not too continuously, but instead of that several times a day with new strength. In the meantime be sure not to play at all fortissimo or perhaps even with raised pedal : this leads to tramping, with bad stiff touch and perpendicular finders, and these I don't like. "We are looking for the true and the beautiful in a different manipulation of the pianoforte, and first of all in a clear, natural, and healthy execution, without any forcing. Second Lesson. Transposition of the common and of the dominant-chords in the three positions in different kinds of time : Exercises on it with careful regard to a loose wrist and a healthy touch, cadence on the Dominant and Sub- dominant ; Exercise of the Springing-bass for the theme and the first and third Variations and close attention to the lifting and striking of the chords as showing the value of the notes, the touching of them in neither too weak nor in too strong a manner, with constant attention to the third and fourth fingers, which are reluctant to bring forth the sound as healthy and as full as the other fingers. Now we shall take the theme with both hands together, with a view to a quite correct execution, alike of the piano and of the forte, perhaps already also of as beautiful a crescendo and diminuendo as possible. — And now we shall take the first Variation, which is not difficult, and whieh you can master well, once a tempo, and play with it the bass-chords which are mostly to be given staccato with the necessary suppleness and elegance, but before that, we must practise the bass parts once more alone, that you may be able to hear distinctly whether all the tones sound equally healthy. — Now the Variation may be played in full — the necessary shadings will come as vou master the piece more and more fully. —Your right hand is not in the least tired yet, you may therefore play to me several times over the passage from the Introduction which I asked you to practise at home — first slowly and then quicker. — I see your right hand is getting tired — take, then, the part of the left hand from the finale.— We shall also still glance at the adagio, but the part of the right hand in the third variation I must recommend particularly to you for practice. You cannot mistake if you do not take it too quick in the tempo, and if you observe" carefully the fingering indicated.— Now I shall play to you the theme much in the same way as I have heard it sung by the celebrated Tenor Rubini. You see I put my fingers softly on to the keys and do not lift them too high, so as not to damage the beautiful connection of the sounds and to produce the most beautiful singing-sound 92 possible. As a farewell, play the theme after me. — You are playing it still in too reserved a manner, not freely enough. — Well, never mind, you will do it nicely when I shall see you again in two days, after you have practised it during that period several times slowly, and, as it were, have lived yourself into it. Besides you may practise now diligently for yourself everything that we have gone over together, also the first variation ; yet it must be done with interest and not up" to the point of exhaustion. All the other small exercises without notes for the touch, exercises on the cadence for the third and fourth fingers, etc., are a matter of course. Third Lesson. Fresh small exercises — shakes — scales, shaded for one hand, for two hands — springing-basses, etc. To-day we begin with the bass part of the second variation. You will see you have often to play in the treble equal quavers in the first part, and the bass moves at the same time in quite equal quaver-triplets. In order to play both together well, even mechani- cally, the left hand must be able to move wholly free and independent, and to make the triplets sound quite equal with a complete command over them. Above all avoid sickly notes, and take good care not to accustom yourself to give the last triplet in each measure, and especially the last quaver of it, too hastily, too pointedly, and too meagrely. — Look what difficulty my right hand has already caused to the equal playing of the triplets ! — Listen as little as possible to me, and maintain your independence. But you shall learn to play this variation well alone with both hands, and this is a special beauty in the execution, only we must not be in too great a hurry and leave it to time. All restlessness, all haste, the desire to force something, leads to all sorts of faults. Enough of this for to day : we now play the other variations and the whole finale consecutively, since you are not detained by the more difficult passages which you have already learned. Fourth Lesson. Fresh exercises for extension of the hand and the fingers, yet so cautiously that the healthy touch, which must always be the principal thing, is not prejudiced. Further, repetition of all the former things, yet every- thing with a certain shading and elegance. — To-day we begin at the beginning with the introduction — I mean to repair my inverted proceedings, and show that I, as well as others, can begin at the beginning — but at the right time ! In the passages which your mechanism can already master completely, we now have special regard to the execution and the correct use of the pedal. And if I ask you in one place or another to play thus or thus shaded, etc., and it does not agree or does not quite agree with your feeling and your sentiment, then contra- dict me and ask me for the reason of my views. — You do not wish to play this passage crescendo but diminuendo 1 Very well, only do it beautifully — this also will sound well. I proposed crescendo because the feeling rises — perhaps you will find 93 in the next lesson that my view is the right one. — This part I would play some- what reservedly, without too conspicuous retardation — the other one quickly, and at the same time crescendo or diminuendo 1 What do you think 1 — We must try to draw up small nicely and finely shaded pictures in these variations. In that part you might, I think, touch with more energy, with more decision. — This part you need play in a manner only mechanically healthy without any intentional execution — we require shade in order that the thought which follows, and which calls the theme to mind so emphatically, may stand out the brighter. Taken as a whole, however, everything must sound natural, without musical pretension, like a production of the moment ; there must be nothing that appears forced, affected and distorted with any modern unnaturalness. — Miss Amalia, every piece that we shall study together (the next one will be the Notturno in E fiat by Chopin, because your touch is already good and has already gained in volume) will give me opportunity to discourse much with you on execution and its in- numerable shadings, elegancies, and beauties, with constant regard to beautiful singing. — This is the tyranny of execution, which I have exercised towards my daughters, and which stupidity and foolishness have reproached me with. " The execution must come of itself ! " — How cheap this excuse of slovenliness, of in- capacity, of laziness ! — Let us look at, and listen to many Virtuosi, the old ones, the young, the talented ones — the untalented, the celebrated ones — those not yet celebrated ! Either their playing is purely mechanical, with a poor and faulty touch, which is the least of their evils, or the most unbearable affectation and musical abortion rise up pretentiously. Their execution has thrown itself like a thick, suffocating mist on the two pedals, and has taken root in the ground of 1 every possible perversity. However we will go on to our theme. You play it already with much intelligence, sympathy, and warmth, and without any modern empty affectation. Should there occur to you at the finale of the second part another passage which leads cleverly on to the Dominant, then try it, and perhaps you may be able to unite it with the one there. You mean to give on the four last semiquavers two passing shakes? Very well, let them be very clear and neat, and the last one softer than the first, then it will sound very beautiful ; the singer does the same. With such elegant variations it is quite suitable to apply some ornaments, if only these are chosen with taste and are executed beautifully. It is a different thing with pieces by Beethoven, Mozart, Weber, and others, where veneration requires us to observe stricter views, although also this may often be exaggerated, the consequence being pedantry. — Now, to the first variation. Very well ! the springing-chords in the bass you play already very precisely, even, and fresh — a language has got into the bass and a certain elegant boldness into the treble. The second variation — because it is the most 94 difficult you will not play -with both hands before next lesson — to-day tako the bass alone still. I sball play the treble to it, and after that we shall reverse it. But let us close with the fourth variation. In general I have little more to say about the* piece. Let us begin another beautiful study by Moscheles, which I cannot too strongly recommend to you for the strengthening and exercising of the third and fourth fingers ; — for the next two or three months let this one remain your constant companion, your friend. Mrs. Grund. I am convinced that, with so careful a manner of instruction, Amalia will learn to play these variations beautifully and to thoroughly master them. That. In a week or a fortnight she will execute this piece with conscious- ness and conviction, to the satisfaction of herself and others, and the feeling for the beautiful which is already awakened in her, as well as the feeling of the capability will be able to preserve the interest in it. You see how untenable is the objection : " the children lose all pleasure if readiness is to be obtained by many studies, and if a piece is to be practised until they can master it." If the teacher begins awkwardly and stupidly, and torments the pupil with a forcing down of many pieces, and in doing so insults and scolds— is that to give more pleasure to the pupil than to be able to play readily and with ease several short, well-sounding exercises, in the success of which he can have joy ? — Or a little later, and along with these, to be able to perform a piece nicely, without sticking and without struggling — and when this is done, every- thing goes on joyfully and peacefully ? Mrs. G. But with great and long pieces — do you proceed in the same manner with them ? Thai. Most certainly — according to the same principles. Mrs. G. But if you are so particular with every piece, and seek by that means to develop the touch always more and more, it will be a long time before Amalia can learn to play several large pieces well, and also before she can learn many other things. That. Is your daughter to learn to jingle on the piano in order to acquire proficiency in music ? Or is she to learn to play the piano well, and to acquire proficiency while doling so ? The latter, I take it, is your wish, and also mine, else you might have taken any teacher you chanced to meet. — Consider, if the be- ginning is not made by the pupil's learning to perform a piece quite correctly, readily, and well, after which the succeeding ones always proceed faster and faster: then we have just the usual mechanical playing as you can observe it everywhere, and as you have sufficiently experienced in your own and in your daughter's case. To have fifty pieces played off indifferently does not justify the expectation 95 that the fifty-first will succeed quicker and better. But to study four or five pieces up to the highest possible mastery, gives the standard of quality to the rest. From this and from the mechanical studies, as I have gone about the matter with Miss Amalia, will then result also — but only very gradually — the best possible playing off at sight, which is indispensable for musical education, and which all my pupils, when I was enabled to continue their instruction for a tolerably long period, excelled, and in which my daughters occupy the highest place. It is ne- cessary, however, always to continue with this, to study artistically individual pieces with diligence and great exactness, else the continual playing off at sight, which often becomes a passion, leads in the first place to piano negligence, and more or less to common music-making and note-thrashing. Mrs. G. I am now more and more convinced that an illogical, aimless, in- complete, and superficial instruction can lead to nothing real, not even, or least of all, with those of extraordinary talent, and that those unhealthy and eccentric ap- paritions and caricatures in art, which give also to piano playing such an awkward and untoward direction, are the consequence of such instruction. That. In addition, an attentive observer cannot but notice that especially the young, when they are not guided and directed to the beautiful, have a special tendency and an irresistible inclination to imitate only what is unseemly, external, striking, and ugly — the aberrations of art, and to bring to a good display the " how he clears his throat." This extends not only to artistic playing, but also to composition. I shall leave it to the " Well-known "* to illustrate more closely what a pernicious influence certain composers and virtuosi of recent times exercise on so many apostles of art, who, in imitation and adoration of them, throw themselves faithfully into their arms, and consequently with their support put the world into astonishment not only by their inartistic, unrefined and awkward perfor- mances, but also by their frightful arrogance and their immature and impudent dogmatism. Mrs. G. Let us drop this subject. — Tell me further your views in regard to the Music of the Future. That. You know already I am a great admirer of creative power — therefore also of Richard Wagner. But such as stand wholly in the present — and on what ground — my opinion of these you may guess. See Chapter xvn. 96 CHAPTER XV. Singing and Piano Misdoings. MUSICAL PARTY AT Me. GOLD, THE BANKER'S. PERSONS. Mr. Gold, Banker, (is fond of music). Mrs. Gold, (sings and is ailing). Silver, Book-keeper, (formerly a Singer at Strauss's). Saint, Friend of the Family, (musical hypocrite — also otherwise a hypocrite). Forte, a foreign piano Virtuoso, (nervous). That, Teacher of the Piano. Emma, his Daughter. (Mrs. Gold has just been singing, in quite modern Italian style, with forced high and deep sounds, somewhat jerky, suddenly changing by turns with an inaudible throat- pianissimo, and tremulating at every sound — one-fourth of a, tone too flat, with many ornaments. And she sang " I think of thee with love," by Krebs, all the four verses.) That. (Ill at ease.) Will you not go on, Mrs. Gold %— Perhaps the piano is too high, and you have first to aecustom yourself to it 1 Mrs. Gold. Oh no ! the beautiful air has affected me too much, and I am too unwell. [Whispering to That.)' Mr. Forte did not accompany me well either — partly he was unable to follow me and played too softly, partly, while playing, he added too much of his own composition, which drowned my somewhat nervous voice. That. (Aside to Emma.) There's an evening of singing ! Mercy on us ! Gold. ( Who has been talking in the next room with the deepest interest about shares, rushes in, although rather late after the conclusion, and presses his wife's hands impetuously.) Admirable ! masterly, splendid — wonderful ! Child, you are in excellent voice ! Oh, if Jenny Lind had heard you just now ! 97 Saint. Charming, superb ! how touching ! — There is in this piece quite a religious type — something so pious. — Oh, I do pray you, just "The true hap- piness " by Voss ; only with this is the enjoyment complete — transporting. Oh there is something divine about song ! — And your execution — your feeling, Madam ! — Your absorbing yourself in the composition ! (Mrs. Gold already holds in her hands "The true happiness," and can scarcely wait till Forte has played through in a curious piano the introduction d la Fantaisie. — A tear is trickling down Saint's cheek already after the introduction is finished, four bars of which this great artist has changed into eight. During this impure, shaking "hap- piness," he rolls his moist eyes, and at the termination of the first verse, when the fancy of the accompanist becomes again more fertile, he says : "I am silent — my emotion cannot find expression ! ") That. (Aside to Emma.) Emma, this is called fabricated sentiment — hypocritical feeling ; you can hear now, how people must not sing. — This sort of warmth in singing is, to an unspoiled, true musician, loathsome rubbish and empty tinsel, hollow affectation, nothing but unnaturalness. But this sort of amateur-misfortune you will meet frequently yet. (Mrs. Gold has finished "The true happiness" with all its verses, and appears — almost wholly recovered. Gold is again in conversation with Silver in the share-room. That and Emma are standing at the background of the drawing-room rather oppressed and ill at ease. ) Forte. (Who remains sitting at the piano, in French to Mrs. Gold.) Madam, you are the centre of all that is beautiful in music. To exhale before such a centre my inmost feeling on the pianoforte, this I reckon among the happiest moments of my pilgrimage as an artist. What a loss it is that you in your posi- tion cannot, as a brilliant star of the first magnitude, help the German opera to rise again ! Mrs. Gold. (Who is now quite well.) I must confess, Jenny Lind while here in this city, has never quite satisfied ine. She is and always will remain a Swede — always cold. If she had been brought up here, she would have heard warmer patterns than in Stockholm ; this alone would have given her the true direction of feeling. Forte. Quite true, you have estimated her quite correctly ; and in Paris, where she might have opportunity to hear the like, she lived quite retired. I was just giving concerts there at the time — but she declined to sing in my concerts, and so she had no opportunity to hear me either. Silver. (To Mrs. Gold, with whom the singing fury has now commenced.) Are you inclined now to perform with me the duet between Adam and Eve from the Creation ? Mrs. Gold. Here is the Creation— but we shall wait a little. Mr. Forte will first play us his latest composition for the left hand, and something of the romantic, deep feeling Chopin's. 98 Gold. {Rushes in from the share-room) Yes, of course — the B-flat major Mazurka by Chopin ! Messrs. Henselt, Thalberg, Dreyschock did also play it here. Oh, it is touching ! All. {Except Silver, That and Emma.) It is touching ! That. (To his Daughter.) If this man continues to play in the same style in which he accompanied the " true happiness," then you will hear how this Mazurka ought not to be played ; it is not touching in the least ; it merely depicts dashingly the Polish dancing cadences, as they are improvised by the Polish peasants, but idealized according to Chopin's manner. (Forte makes several dangerous runs up and down, and many octave-passages fortissimo with raised pedal — and unites at once with it — without pausing — the Mazurka, which ought to begin presto. Nothing was to be heard of time and rhythm, but enough of a continual rubato and unmusical syncopations. Some notes were pretty indistinctly played pp. and much spun out, others were struck suddenly, very quick, too strong and hasty, so that the strings clattered, and one string had to pay with its life for the last B-flat major chord. ) Gold. Excellent, bravissimo ! What a conception ! Such artistic produc- tions can make a person forget the very Exchange ! Mrs. Gold. You have shaken even my inmost nerves, penetrated my very heart ! Now quick, let us still have the F-sharp-minor Mazurka, Op. 6. Saint. Oh, what a musical evening Mrs. Gold has prepared again for us ! — What sublime pain lies in this production ! Silver. (Aside.) What would Father Strauss say to this affected unmusical execution, this mockery of all good taste ? That. Mrs. Gold, I think you should send for the tuner to put a new string on B-flat. The second one will also snap immediately, it has a flaw already, and it is too flat. Forte. (Triumphant.) Oh, never mind ! — This often happens with me and does not matter. The piano is a battle-field, where victims must fall. That. (Aside to Emma.) You see he thinks that if it does not sound it clatters at least, and that sounds out of tune produce more effect than perfect ones. Emma. Where has that man learned to play ? That. Child, he has not learned at all. — He is a genius — with such every- thing comes of itself. Instruction, you see, would have fettered his genius, and he would then play clearly, correctly, naturally, and keep time — that would be far from artistic. This unbridled jumble without any time is exactly what is called " the piano-soaring of genius." (Forte thumps through several foreign chords with the utmost quickness with the pedal up, and passes over, without a pause, to the F-sharp-minor Mazurka. He accentuates violently, this bar he extends making it a present of two crotchets, from another he takes off a crotchet, and so he continues until he finishes with great self-satisfaction, when at once and after some desperate diminished chords of the seventh he combines with the previous piece the 99 Serenade of Schubert (D-minor) after the transcription of Liszt. — During the playing of this, in the course of which the second string on B-flat has now snapped too, causing some clatter, there arises some whispering as to who may be the author of the piece, whether Mendelssohn, or Doehler, or Beethoven, or Proch, or Schumann, till at last Silver names the " Serenade of Schubert," and Forte finishes with — the soft pedal, which in his enthusiasm he had employed frequently before. ) That. (To Emma.) Never play or sing in company without first announcing the name of the piece you mean to perform. — You see when this gentleman had finished his Serenade, the company too had just finished guessing. All. (Except Silver and That.) What a performance ! Oh, what artistic enjoyment ! Mrs. Gold. What enchantment there is in this playing ! Silver. (Requesting of Forte some piece of information. ) In the Serenade, where it changes into F-major, in your quickness you changed the two bars into only one bar — was that accidentally ? Emma. (Aside.) This would have been the very place for retarding. Forte. In such beautiful things one must abandon oneself entirely to one's inspiration and feeling. At another time I may make three bars of it, just as genius and enthusiasm may at the time bid me and work within me. That is what is called " aesthetic surprise.'' Henselt, Moscheles, Thalberg, Clara, to be sure, do not perform thus, but then for this reason they can no longer produce any effect. That. (To Emma.) I trust your sound natural sense, your musical educa- tion, will for ever preserve you from such unnaturalness. Emma. With such playing one gets quite gloomy and uncomfortable. I sup- pose this is what is called " demoniacal-modern V That. Yes. Emma. And have the people liked that 1 That. Oh, yes — -many think it to be grand and full of genius and inventive. ' (Mrs. Gold has the Creation in her hand, and Silver leads her to the piano for the execu- tion of the great, duet between Adam and Eve. Forte is exhausted and That plays the accompaniment. Silver sings very sensibly and naturally — Mrs. Gold in her former manner, only still less in time and more out of tune, but to make up for that she adds, with her thin, sharp, cutting, forced voice very long ornamentations on the pauses in the Allegro, and rolls her black eyes frequently upwards. After having finished, Mrs. Gold, quite dissolved in feeling, is led by Silver to a large arm-chair.) Saint. Ah yes, when Haydn is reproduced in this manner, then only does the divine art of music celebrate her real triumphs ! — Mrs, Gold, were those de- lightful fermatas of your own invention ? Mrs. Gold. No ! The excellent Viardot Garcia inserted them as Rosina in the Barber of Seville, and I had them copied for me by a musician at the theatre. But the application of them in this duet is my property, and I have 100 surprised and delighted with, it in many parties.— This grand chromatic scale, furiously rushing down, wherewith the artistic Garcia beats everything in the part of the visionary and fainting Amina in the Somnambula, I insert in the great Aria of the " divine Prophet," somewhat timidly, it is true, since the boldness of a Garcia is to be acquired only on the stage. Emma, But, father, Jenny Lind did sing Eve in this duet in Yienna with Staudigl quite piously, simply, and innocently. That. That's just the reason why Mrs. Gold says that Jenny Lind sings coldly and ought to hear warmer patterns. At home we shall speak further on this subject. Mrs. Gold. Now, Mr. That, I hope your Emma will now also play some trifle 1 After that I shall perform with Mr. Silver, further. " Of Thy grace, O Lord," and some duets of Kiicken's, and if the company desires it, conclude with " Robert, toi que j'aime." That. Will you permit me first to repair the snapped strings 1 (The whole company in the meantime take tea in the adjoining room and admire the untiring exertion and the culture of Mrs. Gold. — That having finished his work, Forte steps to the piano and plays his.. Study for the left hand, at the same time extending his right to- wards the company. ) That. (At the conclusion, to Forte.) "Would it not have been easier and more suitable, if you had played it with your right hand too ? Forte. Truly that was a very pedantic observation of yours, which must be pardoned to old people. You misunderstand my position entirely ! Do you not feel, then, that I already have one foot in the future 1 — Do yon not feel that the public wish not merely to hear, but also to see something extraordinary ? Do you not observe that these very ailing looks of mine have already produced great musical effects ? Saint. Do you not feel the quite extraordinary charm and effect which the left hand alone affords 1— And not less the extended right hand ? That. Oh, indeed ! — Ay, it is possible that feeling has taken a wrong direc- tion with me. I must first live myself intothe Parisian flight of feeling. (Emma now plays the A-flat major Ballad by Chopin, after That had named the piece bqfore-hand. The company was attentive. ) Forte. (After the conclusion.) Bravo ! — a good beginning, Mr. That ! — I am sorry I must take my leave: I have to visit two Parties to-night yet, and to deliver many introductions. Silver. Miss Emma, I have just been told that you have already played much of Chopin, and beautifully. Pray let us hear his two latest Notturni also. Mrs. Gold. (To Emma.) Have you heard the great celebrated Camilla Pleyel — and her rendering of the delicious D-minor Concerto of Kalkbrenner ? Do you not also play things so beautiful and brilliant, for example, that beautiful 101 tender Notturno in D-flat by Dohler 1 Mr. Secretary X. performed it here lately in a transporting manner. Emma. J know it — my little sister Csecilia is playing it under me. That. Would you in the meantime be satisfied -with the two Notturni Op. 48 of Chopin? The concluding song—" Eobert, toi que j'aime," I shall not speak of.— About midnight there was an elegant supper, spiced with sweet wines and with— sour recollections of this musical evening. CHAPTER XVI. Artists alone have ever been to blame for the Decay of Art. At the beginning of this century, when the old celebrated, thin, modest pianos and harpsichords of five octaves by Silbermann, on which "Mozart and Haydn had to play, made room for the hammer-pianos of six octaves and for the first beginnings of our large grand-pianos, there began to develop also the so-called Bravura-play which distinguished itself by fullness of tone, quickly changing progression of harmonies, brilliancy, boldness, greater technique and totallv new sound-effects. The talented Prince of Prussia Louis Ferdinand, Himmel, Dussek, Steibelt, Wolfl, and somewhat later Field, Clementi, Moscheles, Hummel, Beethoven, and others, at that time threw everybody into astonishment by their compositions and the artistic rendering of them on those new pianos which were quickly advancing to perfection. It was therefore a natural consequence that because of these new, brilliant, and full-bodied effects of sound, the compositions of Handel, Mozart, Haydn, which though classical were yet more simple and less exacting, were either neglected, or else trans- cribed, as Kalkbrenner and Hummel have done with Mozart's Concertos. m They were played in the modern style, that is to say, with greater brilliancy, with more bravura, in a quicker tempo, with more passionate and stronger accentuation, in one word, " in the modern concert-style," and thus the venera- tion due to these masterpieces was violated. Yet this new style of playing charmed people greatly, and was much appreciated. The times of simplicity were past, and it was not only in piano-playing that the impulse to produce music in fuller, more powerful sounds, manifested itself, instrumental music also had given up its accustomed trio style In the same manner as Hummel and others treated the old piano compositions, Mozart and Von Mosel acted previously in the intrumental department, when they adorned the Oratorios of Handel with a richer instrumentation. I myself also and my daughter Clara gave ourselves up with zeal to this new, brilliant style of playing. It was truly an earnest progress, no illusory one, as our most modern artists have made it, there was no foppish artistic pretentiousness about it, no distorted performance of good master-pieces, for the method, being in itself simple, did not allow of any such infatuated external nourishes as a few years later were admired by the public as manifestations of genius. My daughter Clara gained at that time much applause with piano-concertos of Mozart arranged in this style ; not at home, it is true, not in Leipzig, there not till she had returned to her native .town from Paris with the laurel-wreath she had obtained there. Leipzig was not the city that knew how to value, to encourage and to protect native talents, for, with international trade, interest and attention had turned to the artistic accomplishments of foreigners. With the greater part of the Leipzig experts and critics of those times — who with their accustomed rashness of judgment knew immediately what they were about — Cl ara passed until then for a dull, talentless girl, whose scientific education had been neglected, whom her father had with pain' and force drummed some pieces into, which therefore she was able to play by heart. The walls of the " Gewandhaus " * and your humble servant are able to tell much more about this — and also about the silent acclamation which at that time the Septett of Hummel and the Concerto in E-minor of Chopin received in subscription concerts, when she performed the latter for the first time and the second and third movement for the second time. Leipzig, however, was not the only place that totally misconceived this Concerto and Chopin's other compositions, such as Variations, Mazurkas, Notturni, which had been published just then, and which were for the first time performed in Germany in public by Clara. Criticism in other cities said its say much in this manner : " This young girl appears to have some talent, only it is a pity that she is in the hands of such an unmusical, incapable father, who forces * At that time the principal Concert-room in Leipzig. 103 her to play such rubbish." But when I say that this shy, modest, but musical, girl did nevertheless play well at least in Leipzig, some unprejudiced connoisseurs of those times, who are still living, can confirm me. To return to the above-mentioned "Gewandhaus" concerts, I have further to add that my daughter, when she had finished, made her bow, but before a silent public, and that the notabilities of this concert did not think it worth while to take the slightest notice of her or to speak a word of encouragement to her. She slunk away in tears from those hot boards— her father with her; both felt as if they had committed a crime against their native city. My innocent, child-like Clara afterwards comforted herself with the thought that in such a celebrated city native girls never were applauded at first — only foreign boys. But on the other hand, people knew at once what to say, when the young girl returned from Paris : " AJ1 had come of itself." A small, detached remnant of those who were at that time so quick in their judgment, and who were joined by a few young, arrogant, and haughty imitators, tried indeed to receive my daughter Marie in the same manner, but without success and without the consent of the public, who had now become clear in their perception, for they possibly thought : — " Surely such a thing cannot come of itself twice .'" Suffice it to say Clara afterwards obtained acclamation, often great acclama- tion, especially with the well-known Variations of Herz Op. 20 and 23, and the Concerto of Pixis, Op. 100, and similar pieces, which it is true Marie Wieck, in the spirit of the advanced musical times, exchanged for compositions of Beethoven, Chopin, Mendelssohn, &c. But since that time, after Mendelssohn, with the meritorious and active assist- ance of David, had done incredible things in Leipzig, and in the service of the rarest humanity and amiability never treated young talents with contempt, but tried them without prejudice and encouraged and protected them — since that time Leipzig has totally changed, and appears, on the occasion of good performances, in holiday dress, unprejudiced and approving, nay, even enthusiastic, and verily — as if wishing to repair former wrongs— often yet more so at the appearance of natives than of strangers, whose appearances, indeed, in the present circumstances of the concert, are becoming rarer and rarer, and must soon stop entirely. Thus, then — although the frequent piano-caricaturists (who, at that time, knew how to draw glory and money in plenty from the infatuated and confused public by rope-dancing and harlequinades of all kinds,, by octave-thunder, trill- ings, extensions, jumps, raging, roaring, falling into fainting-fits, and the strangest, most striking outward appearances, and most ridiculous jestures, and were sup- ported imd hoisted up by venal phrase-criticism, and other wonderful arts) had 104 incurred my just contempt and criticism : yet T was among the better class of such as sinned against effect among the men of modern progress and almost all the superior concert-players, although I felt well that truth and beauty were not worthily enough represented by any of them. Here now appeared, also as an idealistic art-virtuoso in Berlin, Hamburg, Frankfort, London, and Leipzig, the universal, fiery Mendelssohn, who, with his exceedingly fine and intellectual feel- ing, and in his exemplary style of playing, and with the finest technique sustained by tlie most beautiful touch, the technique being to him merely the servant of true art, never an end in itself, and with the support of the authority he had already obtained, and also of his able teachers, such as L. Berger and Zelter, ventured even in public to perform the simple immortal masterpieces of Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven (of the first period), and others, with a simplicity, naivetl, chastity, elegance, and devotion until then unheard of. The astonished public, to whom Hummel's Septett and Chopin's Concerto had at that time ap- peared not brilliant enough, not suitable for concerts, not fit for producing suffi- cient effect to express themselves approvingly, granted at first only a reluctant succes d'e8time, which, however, after repeated performances, soon "went over to enthusiasm, which was given also to others who performed in a similar style and proved their artistic training in it. It is only natural that at the same time the piano rope-dancers with their worthless doings, with whom nothing but the titles showed inventive powers, should still draw something of an audience and continue to do so some years ago, for the history of the world advances slowly and along with it the history of art ; but they could rarely venture with impunity on good piano-music — such ostentation remained without results, for in order to achieve results there is required a different tendency from what those sinners against Art possessed. In the same manner now as Mendelssohn operated first and last in Leipzig, and especially in the Conservatory, Moscheles operated in London, Chopin, and to some degree St. Heller in Paris, Messer and many estimable amateurs in Frank- fort on the Main, Fischhof in Vienna, able artists in Berlin, others in Dresden, in the more recent times Robert Schumann at Diisseldorf, and so forth. Thus only an impulse and intrepidity were required — and the obedient public followed again the " Superior," the true, the beautiful. To speak of the latest times, we already see with the finger quacks that still exis,t and their pupils and mimics, deserted Concert-rooms in Dresden, Leipzig, Vienna, even in smaller places, and now they can no longer be filled even with free tickets. Recommendations of all kinds, American melodies, Indian Negro themes, Ne plus ultras of jumps and extensions, charming titles at the head of fabrications without brains or invention — beside these Handel and Beethoven on the concert-bill— announcement of only one per- formance, — ailing looks, pressing recommendations, newspaper noise, clique and 105 claque — all is in vain : the public is this time prevented by other engagements and will admire the next time or when the very last performance tates place. The public are tired of harlequinades, and demand sterling musical culture, they demand an appreciative manifestation of it, they desire to hear fine sound and good music, performed with real art and grace, without excess and charlatanism, and at the same time a brilliant virtuoso production of the superior But criticism, too, has partly taken again a better and more gratifying direc- tion, and has passed into learned Lands capable of judging; it no longer pays homage to parties and coteries, it expresses its opinion impartially, boldly, and with' dignity. There is, consequently, owing to it a well-merited share in the improved turn of art, and of the sympathy of the public. I may be permitted to name, from among several, only Carl Banck of Dresden, and Bischoff, Editor of the Bhenish Journal of Music. Also, I do not hesitate to give the correspondent signing Ker in the " Signale," Messrs. Klitzsch, Schaeffer, and T. U. in the " Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik," and others, the credit of a competent and impartial judg- ment concerning compositions of the most various kinds. But now one word more to our lady singers. The piano-fury takes the turn and has taken the turn, and you do not wish to take the turn 1 How is it possible that the musical tours of such a one as Jenny Lind, whose beautiful, only true style of singing has again found its confirmation in the singing of Henrietta Sontag and of Persiani, should have remained without visible result for your style of sing- ing, and should have gone past you without leaving a trace ? With older, long forced voices, especially on the stage, a change is no longer admissible and scarcely possible — they are, moreover, just on the point of dying out ; but you, who are young singers, you allow yourselves to be shamed in judgment by the entire public at large, who showed for Jenny Lind everywhere equal acknowledgment, equal delight ! Could you, then, not endeavour, by a diligent and attentive solmization, to draw out also your voice, and by a natural and chaste singing, without a forced intonation of the sounds, to aim at the real effect — depth of feeling 1 Nay, not even the most sensitive conception and the most charming performance of the parts of Agatha, Amina, Maria (from the Daughter of the Regiment) etc., has stimulated you to emulation ? For example, in " Softly sighs " you are still continu- ing to sing quite loud, joyfully, fast, and merrily, " the Nightingale and Cricket seem to enjoy the night air " — I suppose because the word enjoy is in it ? The appearance of Amina in the Somnambula, in fact, the whole part you run through in quite a mechanical style ! Do you not know that Jenny Lind, with the " Fare- well " in the Daughter of the Regiment, moved the over-crowded Opera-house in Yienna eight times to tears, and not — to applause 1 Why, you sing and act Maria 106 and Amina in quite a curious and odd manner, quite the opposite way to Jenny Lind. Is it that you think to lose in originality and independence if you do not re- main in your unthinking old style, but imitate Jenny Lind somewhat. You have so often heard songs of hers worthy to be remembered for ever, yet you will sing " On wings my fancy ranges," and " Gently through my mind there passes," and " ! Sunny Beam," just as thoughtlessly as ever, or -with false pathos. And what shall people think of your antiquated adornments and Fermatas ? Mendelssohn and a very few others have thrown the piano fury from its zenith, but with you art is not to be raised by artists ! You say : " Our teachers do not draw our attention to it." Are the teachers, who often are the most prejudiced, to do every- thing then ? You must meditate and strive. You exclaim further : " We are obliged to sing shouting- operas, which enslave the voice, and such things as circum- stances and conductors impose on us. 'Benvenuto Cellini' was buried after its second appearance — the ' Wandering Jew ' is to be the next opera, and the one after that an opera-monster of an unknown Italian of Milan, ' The mad Joanna,' which contains no pieces whatever for singing, much less melodies, and is rooting quite in the future." Just you all learn to sing again in really beautiful and true style, in the same style as Jenny Lind and others, and then you need have no hesitation in saying : We shall no longer shout singing nonsense, no longer shout trumpet and trombone sounds. Then the progress-trash will come to an end at once, and the composers will have to cultivate their feeling for beautiful and correct singing and for healthy and effective melodies, and if they, as is possibly the case, are not able to do that, they must give up their opera desires. By so doing you will pro- mote the " everlastingly beautiful," and that is true progress and salvation from all errors of singing and from all artistic twaddle on the subject. The history of Art offers you her hands, and, in the empty houses at repeated performances of such tormenting operas, every intelligent person sees already con- firmed anew the proposition : " Artists alone have ever been to blame for the decay of Art." 107 CHAPTER XVII. Miscellaneous. ^The author signing himself, "Well known," tries to establish in his letters something like the proposition : " The work that on the first performance gives most enjoyment and pleasure to the general public, without at the same time requiring especial activity of their reason and reflection — is the right — the best one." And further : The general effect of a work of art must manifest itself immediately after the first performances. With this I shall compare experiences drawn from my life. , I was with many others witness of the four first perfor- mances of the " Freischiitz " in Leipzig. At the first performance the only points that pleased were the Waltz in the introduction, and the chorus of hunters and the chorus of virgins — in fact, you see, the least important parts ; everything else found neither visible nor audible acclamation. Yet during the succeeding performances the interest extended by degrees to almost the whole of the rest, according as the comprehension and the enjoyment arising out of it increased after repeated hear- ings. I was present in the Leipzig " G-ewandhaus " at the first rehearsal of the 7th Symphony of Beethoven. Musicians, critics, connoisseurs, and people quite ignorant of music, each and all were unanimously of opinion that this Symphony could have been composed only in an unfortunate, in a drunken condition, especially the first and the last movement, that it was poor in melody, and so forth. We all know with how great veneration the mixed public already listen to this Symphony in Garden concerts, etc., and with how visible a pleasure they enjoy it. The success of the 9th Symphony also is contradictory to the opinion of "Well- known." Some years ago people, it is true, were startled at the incomprehensible, unenjoyable chaos of this Symphony of Beethoven. We are already reconciled to it, and acknowledge and enjoy its magnificent beauties. The tormenting and unpleasant execution of the solos and choruses in the last movement, which are not adapted for the voice, is the only thing that never can and never will give enjoy- ment, just because it is not beautiful, and will remain so, if human voices have to struggle, and the execution stops far behind the conception. Thus to the full- ness of harmonious sounds surely there must be joined, also architectonic beauty 108 and character, if it is to satisfy our higher demands. Dhese latter, however, are recognised only, and by degrees more and more, after repeated hearing, and when connoisseurs, and such as, without being connoisseurs, are yet well-educated, can with consciousness feel them out. What the author says concerning operas, singers, composers, music of progress etc., I have also in other respects treated on from another point of view, and fre- quently I have come to the same results. Only he may permit me, in practical respects, here and there to defend my lady-singers. The appearance (it may be for the first time) of a well trained and sensible lady-singer, (who, therefore, has under- taken a task), for example, with an Aria in a concert before a criticising and well- educated public, whose attention is not drawn off with other theatrical secondary matters, as is the case on the stage, who eagerly listen for every breath, every vowel, every word, every sound — is a dangerous undertaking. She must then be allowed to choose whatever she wishes, something that is within her voice, that she is able to command fully in all dimensions, that puts her voice and her good qualities into the clearest light, etc. The managers of the concert can give her no special orders as to what she is to sing. Above all things the singer wishes to please ; that the managers, too, are to please with it, is not at all necessary and a matter of indifference to the singer. Nor are the managers able or willing to indemnify her for a failure — nay, they will not even comfort her because of it, so that she has all the risk on her own side. She, consequently, chooses most likely an Italian Aria of Bellini, Donizetti, Rossini, or Mozart, etc., because in that her voice has specially good sound, attraction, and enchantment, and can show itself in its full extent — circumstances which make all unprejudiced and educated hearts favourably inclined to her. Let the classical people, or those who behave like such, lament and wail at this — it does not matter. This Aria we are speaking of is with Italian text, and is the singer not to take this original text which is evidently so much easier having been applied in so clever a manner and in a correct, artistic and singing style, by the composer, who is an expert in singing ? — Instead of that, a miserable German translation ? — No, Mr Well-known, that is too great a demand ! You speak so openly and pointedly concerning the classical behaviour and many other glaring foolishnesses, and you mean suddenly to become so rigorous and chastising to my poor singers 1 The favourable circumstances, talent, voice, health, several thousand Thalers, a clever teacher capable of self-sacrifice, the fortune of being able to hear great masters, from four to five years' time, and many other things besides, must unite till she arrives at the above-mentioned Aria, (I here speak of trained singers, not of others who can do everything), and then she is not to sing of Italian love in the Italian language, but in a German, rugged, and awkward translation that is not adapted for singing 1 — My friend, you cannot be in earnest — why should you be so bitter? If the public wish to know thoroughly every word of 109 the Italian love, then surely you must be gallant enough, to the singer to give them the translation of the few words- — the execution will do the rest. Every Aria, every song will sound best in the language in which it was originally composed. Do not even many French artists endeavour to sing German songs in the German language t Jenny Lind spent several months in making the German text in the " Daughter of the Regiment " and in the " Somnambula " adapted to the voice. Consider, then, what difficulties a singer that wishes to sing well has to overcome with German words. Why, you even object to the pronunciation. In regard to singing in, time, especially in German vocal-music, I think you might also grant some little indulgence. Yes, if there were no taking breath, and none of those time consuming consonants, and none of many other things ! The greatest singers frequently have difficulties with these points ! Consider the liberties the strict Jenny Lind, the most conscientious singer of our century, took, and had to take, so as to give satisfaction to the beauty of her voice ! Moreover, a singer neither can nor ought to take as a pattern the strict time- keeping of a Waltz, etc. ; here again you go too far. And the use of single sounds in recitative and with the Fermates, so as to allow tone and voice to resound beautifully? Well! Let Lind and other great singers answer you on that. Until the time great singers perish with the art, it must remain so. However we must not in this place, before the general public, open a singing and a lecturing school, in order to force from our enemies a mocking smile. The Well-known wants no more Cadences 1 Well, here the opera of the future, which you contest so much, meets you very opportunely. You may in the end be a conductor yet with such singing-music of the future. Where are you to get for such productions well taught, artistically trained singers? You will not get one, no not even one, who still has a voice, though no training. If you do not frequently give* to the former an opportunity of sustaining sounds, of spinning them out, and of allowing them to produce an effect, and of resounding now powerfully and then again charmingly — and this now and then with their alluring shakes (the most beautiful ornamentation for three centuries) crescendo, decrescendo, with the finest shadings and with the most spirited anima- tion, then you repel that of which the singer is proudest, for it has taken her four or five years to learn it beautifully. In addition to that she had the rare fortune of having this faculty trained and cultivated under the direction of a teacher of the old extinct school, who does not destroy the voice in the training. Now you would be satisfied with the other one ? No ! you will not get her either — or she will run off again soon. Why, her voice is all she possesses, else — she has nothing, or she has learned it wrongly or badly. And you wish to take away 110 from her sole possession, the voice, which in this style can last only a short time, the opportunity of having a free range, of allowing itself to be heard, and of making impression, according to its own way though it may be in an uncouth way? Cruel man, surely you cannot be married, since you are so ungallant, impracticable — at least you have trained no singers yet. Surely Haydn, Mozart, Winter, Weigl, .Rossini, C. M. von Weber, whom you can otherwise appreciate so well, did not write down their many Cadences from ignorance or from embarrassment ? I have heard the cantatrice "Willmann, for whom Haydn specially wrote the Soprano part in the Creation, execute at Erfurt with wonderful ability those Cadences and elegant although short ornaments which Haydn himself had taught her. Ay, ay, zeal, anger, displeasure at the innumerable contemptible things and incredible foolishnesses in our times, which are so rich in contradic- tions, mislead you to kill everything at once. People will in another respect also cast the same reproaches at me : "let us comfort each other together ! " I must also interpose against what you say concerning the pianoforte and the Virtuosi and so forth. " No great Composer was ever a great Virtuoso, and no great Virtuoso becomes a great Composer ? " "Why, you empty the bath with the child in it ! — Mozart, Dussek, Hummel, Moscheles, Von Weber, Mendelssohn, even Beethoven, and several others belonging to the good days of the piano, were certainly great and celebrated' Virtuosi. It takes nothing from their greatness as Virtuosi, nay, rather . it is a credit to them, that they employed in a sensible manner their important powers as Virtuosi (which their successors often endeavoured in vain to reach, even with their balancing rope-dancing) merely as a means to produce good music, demanding much and fine technique. And Mozart's 24 Concertos etc., the execution of which was smiled at by every beginner 1 Well, do you really mean it 1 In playing and executing these in a style as beautiful, as healthy, as correct, and as finished as Mozart did (it is' true, on pianos and Harpsichords, which were easier to play on), I have succeeded with but few pupils. To do so there is required an extremely well developed mechanism, a fine, a thoughtful musician, the neatest finish, and the most elegant and sweet expression of the tone. Here the beginner does not smile in the least, but the connoisseur smiles at these and at a whole multitude of Virtuosi besides, who are obliged, because of their weakness or their mistaken tendency, to look at such performances over their shoulders. And when these venture upon them, then they are laughed at — not Mozart. What? — on our good, full-toned instruments, sustained and spun-out melodies, pieces adapted for singing, and good music, Concertos of Beethoven, 111 Mendelssohn, Chopin, etc., could not he played heautifully, feelingly, and impressively, especially not with accompaniment ? "Well, by that decision, with one single blow you upset me, my book, and my pupils ! — Yours must be a pretty piano-box ! — A composer you are, a teacher of composition, an expert in music, an author and a scholar, but don't you come out with your Virtuosity, for surely it suffers from manifold and sensitive infirmities ; — so much I can be sensible of. I at least shall decline to make of you a good Virtuoso, and that too with your hammer-box, with your prejudices, with your hostile views as to the piano, — that would be called " carrying coals to Newcastle." In what hidden, out of-the-way corners were you then in the Leipzig Concert-halls, when there was fine piano- playing, without piano-horror and without mortifying and endless jumble of passages, compositions of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Schumann, and others ? Well I declare ! You want to banish the piano-demon, yet you will not do justice to what is right, but throw my three trifles too at once after it?— I shall not argue with you any further, for you are monstrously rough, you are an expert with the pen — though not with piano and singing-pupils : else I would pray you for further information about many things that are to be read there in print in your " Musical Letters." But — after having further suppressed my views concerning your views in regard to the third period in Beethoven — one thing further I must approach nevertheless, and I ask quite with the utmost politeness and with an entreaty for instruction : " Were it impossible that a powerful fugue of Bach, Handel and others, even if the public were not able to recognize and to examine and cultivate singly its architectonic beauties, should of itself and as a whole, if it were executed with sure and good appointments, make in the church an impression of the solemn, the sublime, the eternal, the monumental ? " HINTS FOE HONOURABLE TRAVELLING PIANO VIRTUOSI. Speaking in general, you ought no longer to make any tours, not even to London and Paris ; except you had the intention of giving lessons there. But to do that you have opportunity at home, and perhaps with more and surer results than there, assuming that you are an able teacher. Paris, it is true, fondles the pianists and gives them food and drink, but it does not pay ; on the contrary, the Virtuoso has to pay — to the Journals, if he wishes only to have his name mentioned. — And London — pays no longer. Neither is there 112 any necessity for it : during the Season dozens of Yirtuosi have for years been ready to play gratis, because they imprudently happen to be there, and wish to have played in London. Several of them cannot even do that if they have not many introductions, good recommendations, — luck. Such is at present the lot of what is beautiful in Virtuosodom. First to learn much with great sacrifice, then to expend money in trying to gain the criticism of the daily papers there (now almost as in Paris), all the time living very expensively ; and then, after unspeakable trouble, at last to give a Concert, only at the best to recover the expenses of the concert, and then to have the English luck to be allowed to play the three little pieces that have been received favourably, either gratis or for an insignificant sum, over and over again for three months, and along with this to be obliged to play some silly pieces which editors of Loudon papers are wont to fix on in the interest of certain composers. " America shall pay the London accounts, London honour 2 " The expectations are distant I The bills are to be honoured on that side ? How many are there that have already returned from there with converted emigrants in order to take up again the teaching wantonly forsaken at home, which now is not paid one whit better than before for all one's poor living in London and America, for all the fog and soot swallowed, and for all the sacrifice of one's small inheritance. In our times, when the understanding of a beautiful masterly piano performance finds its expression with the educated public, even without so-called foreign renown, it is all the same where a person has played or where he has not played. Let directors of Concerts, therefore, - lay aside their astonishment and their former views, if unprejudiced and experienced Virtuosi that understand their times, no longer seek for a few pounds, sufficient for the journey and the inn-keepers, to reap a doubtful glory and a suspected honour, probably even still fighting with an existing Coterie. "What then shall such an honour lead to, an honour that he can make no use of anywhere, and for which the artist is perhaps even meant to beg? By that means, and' by the unlimited misuse of music for every imaginable charitable object, the artist is wholly cut off from the possibility of reaping for himself and by means of concerts of his own a reward or gain which surely ought not to be grudged to a vocation of life that demands so many sacrifices ? A decline of a beautiful and masterly Virtuosity, too, must result from that, or rather has already resulted since 1848. Everywhere, especially in the rising generation, we meet with the " dozen-play," that is, one plays like another, one dozen like another, their playing is neither cold nor warm, neither fine nor exactly rough, neither bungling nor masterly, neither musical nor unmusical — but brave and homespun, with the notes in time, which, to be sure, is still better than the thrashings of the future. But what is still wanting is made up according to circumstances, and quite in conformity with the spirit 113 of these times, when associations are so much in vogue, by the universally and fully developed clique with the claque and the criticism of the day besides. Why then, I ask, is this young generation, with all their good talent, un- willing and unable to advance? The "ideal models'' are wanting, on which they might form and warm themselves and get their enthusiasm aroused. But I return to my next subject. Oar musical friends, it is true, are tired of virtuosi, but they are no longer tired of music, as during the times of political com- motion ; music is again asked for — also good piano music, if it is executed in a masterly and not in an amateur manner. And nevertheless, you ought not to make tours if you do not wish to fall into the danger of sacrificing almost everywhere your time, money, and health. Let me solve for you this problem afresh on the market of life and add some counsels to it. 1. Almost everywhere you go, they will say to you : "Ah, if you had come a month ago — now, every day for weeks to come is taken up with subscrip- tion-concerts, a charity-concert for the infant-hospital, a concert for ragged children or for unragged ones, — likewise for the Pestalozzi-union, likewise for the city poor — for the shame-faced poor— for the shameless poor — for an unknown benevolent object, or for a known one. — for the pension-fund — for a monument— likewise for the benefit of an unfortunate virtuoso, who has got into trouble with his hotel-bill and now tries to dispose of his tickets in person; in addition to all that, the theatre is just bringing out a new opera — not to reckon innumerable Soir6es of private associations. Come back in a month, we can then find a day when you also can get the concert-hall." But not to lose your time, as is likely the case, you may appear in one of the next begging- concerts to make yourself known and appreciated. After Art has begged nearly long enough for the poor — when are these to begin beggiDg for Art ? — It is questionable whether you intend to return in a month, after the public are sucked dry and have got tired of potpourri and charity, or when meanwhile a great inundation or a great conflagration has taken place, or cholera and fevers are raging there ? Moreover, all sorts of unfortunate circumstances will make your best introductions come to naught. You will learn that these influential intro- ductions are addressed to friends that are absent, sick or dead. 2. The hotel-keepers, the person that lets the hall, the local authorities, the parochial board, the persons that see to the arrangement of the concert, the people that carry the instrument, the tuner, the proprietors of newspapers for expensive advertisements, the printer, and (as is the case in some places) the person that lets seats, who consents to let for money and kind words those seats whereon will sit mostly holders of free-tickets, and further all those that are on the look-out for a tip, etc. — not one of them can forget that blessed piano-fury period, 114 when an entrance ticket was paid with two or three crowns. " Such a piano Virtuoso/' they say, "may gain within a couple of hoars hundreds of crowns ; if he does not clear them, that is not our fault, therefore he must pay, pay high — we must meet him with premeditated difficulties." The word is now no longer " An open course to talent," but " Open and hidden obstacles ! " The hotel-keeper, reflecting that he has to write many accounts doubly chalked before he can gain a hundred crowns more than he gains already, chalks you trebly ; the proprietor of the hall, which moreover is the only one in the place, cannot get rent high enough for it, and yet the lighting up of it is of the most miserable description. The police require payment for permission, but of course they give no payment of indemnification, if the artist, as usual, has hit on an unlucky day, when the manager of the theatre suddenly appoints an opera ; then the managers of the poor frequently demand a high tax for the poor, for whose benefit the Virtuoso is afterwards still to give a special performance, and they refer for it to the profits which under different circumstances Virtuosi had sometimes made,- — and thus it goes on. In addition to that, the local artists and their friends, the concert and theatre establishments, etc., are hostile to you. They think their own enterprises endangered and damaged by you, since you might perhaps be received with special favour, and then you might give a second concert. — In short, the expenses and difficulties are altogether out of proportion to the low price of admission, which, as it is, is still too high in comparison with that paid at the subscription-concerts which are now being held in almost every town. And now the free-tickets ! Heavens ! who has an idea of their number 1 If you were to strew out with full hands your Californian tickets, if you were to take a special clerk for packing and delivering them, you have after all when the concert is over made for yourself enemies, who were waiting and watching in the background to see whether they would be forgotten or not ! Among the innumerable cares, troubles and mortifications connected with the arranging of a concert, the complete sending out of free-tickets stands at the top. But then your hall is also filled, and people congratulate you — on the splendid receipts. These receipts and the sum which the ticket-seller at the entrance door (who generally stands in most amiable communication with the ticket-collector, and cherishes quite a special sympathy for him) condescends to hand over to you, may indemnify you for the next day, on which is greedily demanded payment of the terrible expenses. Then after all sometimes come the local authorities, who fix a tax in proportion to this filled hall. 3. You wish to perform a trio 1 But to do this, do you not also require a Violin and a Violoncello, and the best performers on these instruments 1 You pay your dutiful visit to the manager of the theatre, to the musical director, to the leader, and some other . influential persons, and to the above- 115 mentioned artists. Half these people were not at home, but no matter : you go until you have been successful. They gladly consent, but there is great difficulty in fiuding out an hour for the rehearsal of the Trio. At last the difficulties are overcome, and now you breathe more freely, and already you shyly put an expensive preliminary announcement of your concert in the daily paper. Ah ! but there is still wanting a lady -singer 1 The managers of the theatres must try to spare their best singing-powers, else they would be worn out regardlessly and greedily by the constant charity-concerts, and therefore they can give no permission, which is also quite natural and in order. "Well 1 At last you take a singer whom no one wishes to hear any more, who has no longer a voice. Be thankful that the poor girl, who shares her lot with hundreds of her like, assists in making up your concert. She and the others who assist have, as it is, nothing for it in return but a few of your free-tickets, which they richly deserve. Now everything is accomplished : " To-morrow my concert takes place under the kind patronage of many friends." The publication of this programme, got up with such enormous difficulties, costs only from two to three crowns. On the morning of the day that the concert is to take place, you awaken with the determination to play over your solo pieces once at least to-day, since for a week previous it was impossible to do so because of active and passive visits. There is a knock at the door. Come in ! Behold a note from the singer : " With the greatest regret I beg to inform you that, because of a sudden hoarseness and from fear of too severe criticism; I must forego the pleasure of singing at your concert to-night — another time I shall have great plea- sure " — Another knock. Come in ! The Yiolinist and the Cello-player .with compliments send word that, to their greatest regret, they are unable to be at the last rehearsal at eleven o'clock, as there is a rehearsal of an opera in the theatre from ten to two, and further, that to-night their assistance is doubtful since, because of the sudden hoarseness of the first Comic, the piece "The Liar and his Son : ' may perhaps not be performed and " Der Freischiitz " may possibly be substituted. — What is to be done now ? It is impossible now to countermand the concert, the daily paper is out, and the concert-bills are published, fifty tickets are sold already, this is the only evening that the hall is free for the next fortnight, the piano is there already and is just tuning, everything else has already been arranged last night. Throw yourself at once into a cab, make your round of calls again to the above-mentioned persons, perhaps you may manage to get these artists relieved of their other duties. They will be very happy to do so, "should The Freischiitz not be performed." All right! now quick again into the cab, look for deputies witliout a rehearsal, for which there now is no longer time. Nobody wants to be the stop-gap, least of all without rehearsal ! At this point the following advice may be still given to you : 116 Oet small bills printed, which are handed politely to the public at the entrance of the hall : " In consequence of opera and of colds, my Concert remains without the kind assistance of many friends— I shall play instead a Sonata of Beethoven, and in fact, 14 pieces, one after another." Comfort yourself, during the finger- mania-period I have often seen this happen, even to Rubinstein in Dresden when he was only fourteen years old, who, on that occasion, though I had at the rehearsal in vain drawn his attention to it, threatened to sink and vanish through a rotten board into the hollow space below. 4. Do not any longer make a tour without some kind of instrumental, or, best of all, singing- assistance. Much piano-playing without a break is a horrid fate, even if you do not break through the boards. 5. Before you deliver any introduction, go first to the Music-seller that sells your tickets for the Concert. He has to endure on your account much detention, much annoyance and many unpleasant things — maybe even your own reproaches, if the thing does not go straight ! This kind tormented man, from whom all the ladies desire tickets for the first and second rows of seats, so as to be able to watch the hands of the player, will inform you about many things that you ought to be acquainted with before you take another step : be guided by him, and do not think you know better. The concert-instinct of such a man, who has so many dealings with this strange virtuoso. race, is often amazing. After that however look for the best and most honest tuner, and try by every means to gain him for your purpose. Through his counsel and support you may perhaps get an instrument that will play, that- keeps in tune, and that you may manage to perform upon ; leave the instrument entirely under his control, else you will be sure to make yourself ridiculous by accidents of all kinds, and always different ones in different towns. Every Virtuoso has his instrument with him, it is only the unlucky piano-hero who is given over to the discretion of strange instruments to the very last note he plays. Yet do not embitter your situation still more by too fastidious fear. Be content if the touch is passable and the mechanism in good order. It is for you to remember, that among thirty so-called concert- grands there is always only one that is such really, and that the other ones have only to bear that name in submission. 6. Your next step is to go to the honourable reporter, referee, critic of con- certs, who will make you acquainted further with quite different difficulties and with the concert-diplomacy to be employed in this particular town. In fact, give the concert, not according to your own head, but according to the better heads, who know the town and its inhabitants. But after that, in the choice of the concert-pieces, show firmness, else people would advise you so much up to the beginning of the concert that in the end you will play quite different 117 pieces from those mentioned in the concert-bill. This is no fiction, it is experience. From this arises the " Concert-muddle,'' an extraordinary mixture, which does not permit of any chemical analysis. Arrange your programme so that you endeavour to draw the public up to you, so that you play those pieces that are earnest and demand much attention in the first part, because the- public are then still fresh and most susceptible. In the second part, however, pass with a skilful transition (my .daughter Marie lately used to choose for this purpose several short characteristic pieces from the different epochs of piano-music) over to the brilliant production of any of the better class of drawing-room pieces. Who then would play only for the connoisseurs and. artists, that is, for the free-tickets 1 Is it not the general public that pay the expenses — surely I cannot knock them on the head, else at the second concert I have nothing but kind free-tickets before me. Neither do -the nice words of the criticism indemnify for the loss of nice crowns. Or shall I have to thank rather any celebrated lady-singer for the luck of a good house? — A man does not wish always to read serious things, things that strain his thoughts ; he often prefers a pretty comedy without murder to a great drama with murder, and may for all that remain a gentleman. 7. Have no readings at your concert, except by the best tested and the most popular readers. An unfortunate choice and an unfortunate reading often go together with the result that a musical public is thereby put into the very worst humour. 8. A concert ought to last scarcely two hours — rather leave out your own Composition. 9. Make yourself well acquainted beforehand with the piano that is to be lent to you. Do not wax eloquent, do not brag that you can play on anything. I have experienced terrible things with others, — not with my daughters,- because I sent after them, almost to all places where they performed, their own well-tested concert grands — often at great expense. Notwithstanding all that, and with all my great caution, I have had to enrich my concert experiences for thirty years long with the oddest difficulties and in every place, again and again with different and unheard-of ones. 10. I would have many things to tell you yet— but the public must not hear them. 11. Well !— one remark more, but of course between ourselves. — If you travel for several months continuously, when you have neither time nor oppor- tunity for quiet study — your execution does not improve; on the contrary, it grows worse and worse. You are too quick in the tempo, you begin to be indis- tinct, your execution gets uncertain, your use of the pedal careless, and negligences of all kinds surprise you. In short, go home at once wTien the season is over — 118 it is neces'sary. Come to yourself again, and lay down again the standard of a strict criticism for your playing. And how is it now with you, you wonderful young gentlemen — you wonderful misses of from sixteen to eighteen years I Where has your good genius gone to 1 Fetch all your musical friends, fetch your old teacher, ask him for an honest and a strict criticism — study again earnestly and carefully — for you have forgotten the three trifles ! Your whole glory, it may be obtained already or not obtained yet, will else be lost — your art is lost already. The unlimited acclamation, the praises, the worshippers, the empty phrase-makers— alas ! they are of no use, if we want to strive after an ideal. This can be done nowhere but — in the quiet closet. CONCERT-HALLS: Concert-halls are being built or are intended to be built at present in many towns for the importunate so-called Virtuosi, for singers and for subscrip- tion-concerts which are most extraordinarily on the increase ; — not so much so, in the meantime art least, for respectable artists, as I have explained already. I think' it my duty, with the experience I have had, to give my views also in regard to this subject for further consideration, and I limit myself to speaking here of " Concert-halls for singers, lady-singers, piano-performances, subscription-concerts, musical-assemblies, rehearsals, etc., and perhaps also for balls." Among all the concert-halls that I have got acquainted with and tested in Austria, Germany, France, etc., there are only three that are wholly and in every respect suitable for their purpose, and therefore I think that these before all others ought to be taken as patterns, not only as regards simple interior decoration, which cannot disturb and interrupt by anything inappropriate the unbroken transmission of the sound, but also as regards approximate length, height and breadth. After many experiments in the manufacture of pianofortes, acoustics has fixed on this principle : " that sounding-board is the best, which sounds best." Let us transfer that and say : " that Concert-hall is the best, which sounds best." These halls are the Gewandhaus Hall in Leipzig, the Hall of the Singakademie in Berlin, and, at least in regard to the main point, the Apollo-Hall in Hamburg. Each of these celebrated halls holds about from nine to twelve hundred of an audience, according as the small hall adjoining is more or less made use of. For smaller parties, lectures, quartett entertain- ments, rehearsals on the piano, etc., only the small hall is opened. Anything below or above that is faulty. If the hall is built larger in order to give now and 119 then on special occasions admittance to two or three thousand people, manifold disadvantages arise, which are detrimental to its being used much, and conse- quently mus.t greatly reduce the handsome rent which a perfect hall would bring. I throw out, among others, the following considerations : First. That in so large a hall rehearsals for orchestral-pieces, as well as for the piano and other instruments with the accompaniment of the orchestra, are almost impossible because of too great a sound, which must disturb and be prejudicial to exact harmony. Second. That concerts in such a hall, when the audience numbers onlv from four to six hundred, which is most frequently the case, would be a ridiculous or a sad sight, and the artists would rather shun it than make use of it. Third. That the performances would be called in doubt before an audience comparatively so small, just because of too great a sound, which can be deadened only when the hall is pretty well filled. Fourth. That the expenses of lighting and heating would be very much increased, as it is almost only in winter that concerts take place ; and that this, therefore, with the present position the concert is in, would be most impracticable. Fifth. That in such a hall singers could make an impression only if they were, according to the most modern French, Italian, and I am sorry to say also German style, to scream, and not to sing. They would, therefore, instead of assisting to re-establish and to further the true chaste art of singing, as it is at present with very few exceptions yet represented only by Jenny Lind and Henrietta Sontag, they would only, I say, do the opposite and assist the unnatural, which would be a pity. Do not hold up the theatre against me. This is not the place to investigate to what degree our large theatres (besides too strong an instrumentation in so many German operas unadapted for singing) have contributed to the almost total decay of a noble singing style ; besides, opera singing is quite a different thing from concert singing. Large halls can be used only for industrial exhibitions, balls, and masque- rades, and for large vocal performances of from five hundred to a thousand singers and powerful orchestras — not even for large subscription-concerts, as is sufficiently proved by the Central-Halle in Leipzig, the Reitbahn (Circus) Hall in Vienna, the Hdtel de Ville in Paris, etc. In several large cities they intend at present to erect large exhibition buildings for menageries, rope-dancers and equestrian performances, and to unite concert-halls with these. However suitable in some respects this might be, I must dissuade from it, were it only for the reason that those large exhibition buildings for want of space have to be erected outside the town, whereas 120 the place for concert-halls is -within the town. In regard to that I may also make the innocent concert remark, that Janizary-music* and lions' voices, as well as hyena howling, are of such a penetrating nature, that surely tender voices and virtuoso performances on the piano and on other instruments would at times have to endure a most superfluous accompaniment however far removed the hall might be. TO SEVERAL YOUNG PIANO COMPOSERS ! I have just come home from a severe piano-seance. A well-known Virtuoso, who himself composes, has been trying to play to me a number of your piano compositions and this with discomfort and affliction — with enormous exertion. — Surely you do not compose the like for yourselves alone, else you would not have got it printed. Hence the question : for whom is it then, really, that you compose ? " For well educated amateurs who can find no pleasure in the insipid, vague drawing-room and finger-music, and .are desirous to have a better entertainment." Among all those whose musical education I have completed during forty years, there is none who could play and master such tormenting, clumsy composi- tions, which are partly quite unadapted to the piano and over-loaded with unnatural and endless harmonies and syncopations. And if there were some •who would really by diligence and perseverance wish to master your music — they are to entertain themselves with that, they are to have pleasure and enjoy- ment in it — are they 1 " We also write for musical Virtuosi." If Yirtuosi are inclined to play, and in a great measure to study, such difficult music, then surely it ought to be very different music — of different effect, different form, different power of invention, of different value. " We want to foster music and not merely the piano." Well ! I should hope that Beethoven, Franz Schubert, Chopin, Mendelssohn, and Schumann have written music, and they are reckoned by no means poor composers !— Do they perhaps need to be ashamed of their music, and at the same time of their innumerable and satisfying beauties of sound and their pianistic effects which are frequently so very striking 1 Let me make for once a closer inspection of your " Spring time Raptures." Here then you have at the beginning a dry, thin, immovable little melody of four or eight bars, which of itself is of a very dull appearance, and here * "Janizary-music" is the name given in Germany to the percussion instruments -big drum, cymbals, &c. 121 you try to depress it still more by some inartistic and dull harmonies 1 — The next bars already indulge in a few daring chords and skips, and to these are very soon joined superhuman spans and arpeggios. Now work begins — now we are taught how to work, and that in a polyphonic manner, — you are turning everything round and round, and, alas ! you enslave every little semiquaver with a learned harmonic chord. Now come passages for the left hand, and for the right hand alone, and also for both together and moving contrary to each other. But they are so stiff and intricate, and modulate in such a forced manner, that surely nobody can have pleasure in it even if he were able to play them correctly and clear and legato as you have prescribed. Moreover, in playing, the fingers of each hand often meet on the same keys. That may perhaps sound on paper or in your imagination — but never on the piano ; on the contrary it disturbs the fulness of the sound, the flow of the passages, and is disagreeable. Then follows the middle theme ; it moves in D sharp-minor, for the piece is in F sharp- major. Of course not a piece will do now-a-days with anything less than five or six sharps or flats. What fashionable composer would now-a-days still write in G-major, in D-major, etc. ! — These vulgar keys belong to the olden times. Now you continue to grub steadily on in a loud' wail over the world's sorrow, and in countless sharps and flats. — Can no pleasant ideas whatever any longer rise up in you 1 Are there then no longer any cheerful, bright, pleasant colours whatever — not even for " Spring-time raptures " '? -If you have already painted these in such a gloomy, gray, snow colour, what then will your '.' Spring-time sorrows " turn out to be like ? — Why, that is exactly as if you wished to meditate in C sharp-major over the the desponding inscription of a tombstone. — After long torments and tortures of all kinds, once more, towards the conclusion, the ill-used melody in A sharp-minor. At first it is slow in time, then quickened ; finally it goes through B flat-major to D sharp-minor, and gradually ends in nothing. My tormented friend got to the end with the ninth page, and I — also with my analysis of this " Spring-time rapture." — It is true this composition is by no means common or trivial, not even for the draw- ing-room — but it is just as little for the future or the present. I cannot suppress the remark that on these nine pages there might have been almost room for Schumann's Forest Scenes, or his Children's Scenes, or his Album for Youth ! " Compositions which come easy to the fingers, and are at the same time effective in sound, there are plenty from Czerny to Schulhoff. These we recommend to you." Would it be so great a misfortune then for you, if one could play your " Spring-time raptures" successfully tor educated people so that all could enjoy it ? Would it iiafc then be agreeable to your publisher, whose over-sharped and flatted compositors have to sigh so much over your manuscript, if he could sell, 122 along -with a hundred copies of the charming Idylls and the bold Tarantella of Schulhoff, and the Children's Scenes of Schumann, two or three copies of your compositions ? You surely do not write for yourselves alone, and for the pub- lisher's own self. Moreover I have already some just doubts as to your execution — but much less would I wish to hear it performed by your publisher. " We write for domestic musical edification, for souls that are of a simi- lar humour, and not for you and such as are content with mere pianistic effects : we pursue higher aims, the publishers must know that best — otherwise they would not pay us for our manuscripts. And criticism has already judged many things of ours to be excellent^ and has encouraged us to continue." My criticism, at all events, has not been encouraging, nor do I envy your hopeful publishers. Besides they are said to have already had meetings wherein sighs predominate, and where they woefully discuss the now universal wailing over the world's sorrow of the young generation of composers. — It will not be long before it is found out how many "paying souls of a similar humour, and friends of domestic musical edification, have come to buy such piano and music-sorrows, as have for some years past been coming in such numbers into the light of the world. No, gentlemen, you are on the wrong track. In what is unnatural, in a troubled, plodding reflection — in the zeal to make everything different from others — in the hasty endeavour to be original at any price — in the proud pretentious- ness to make one's theoretical studies shine everywhere — in the zeal to wish to begin where Beethoven stopped — in the eagerness only to continue Schumann's individualities — in such and similar affectations of superiority there is no real creative power — no progress, no future. Little thanks have I to expect for my book — after this maybe, however, now and then a friendly pressure of the hand by a music-publisher. CHAPTER XVIII. Concerning Pianos. Without giving my opinion in regard to English and German mechanism and the advantages, of each over the other, I pass to the main point, to the quality of the tone, and to a correct style of touch. In this the culture of the singing-tone, the human voice, will always assist us. 123 First. The style of touch must never be tough, hut elastic* sure, and supple. Whether more or less hard (but not so easy as at former times) does not matter ; it depends on the power and the age of the pupil and the player. But he must be able to have the instrument under his command — not the instrument him. If the touch is tough and stiff and unequal, if it demands an unusual and unnatural exertion of power ; and if with this it should perhaps be the case further that the drop of the keys is too deep and the measure of the octaves too far apart : then the pupil becomes the victim of the instrument and fails in his purpose. Second. The tone must never reach its utmost limit and by that means exhaust itself ; that is, if with a correct, loose touch I play however strong, there must re- main in the hearers the feeling that if I were to play still stronger, the sovmd would be stronger still. — The same thing holds good with the singer too. A tone which is entirely exhausted, which excludes the possibility of going further, and suggests finiteness is not beautiful. I know well all our opera singers deride me, and the applauding public give me the lie, and the opera of the future laments over such conservative ears. — A h yes, if there were not such a thing as the three trifles ! Third. The hammer must be neither too soft, too sharp, too firm, nor too hard. A sharp, pointed tone, with a strong touch, at once reaches its limit, becomes rough, disagreeable, and injurious ; at least according to the old school, and it does not admit of sufficient shadings and misleads to a childish style of play. And a tone that is too soft, with which the player has to fight, does the same thing, it is injurious to distinctness and clearness in all respects and in all dimensions, and misleads to a bad touch. — A good and proper leathering of the hammer is the true ornament of the piano. Fourth. The tone must have volume and inner power, energy and decision. A hollow, though apparently beautiful-sounding, soft, sweet, violet-blue tone is nothing, can lead to nothing, expresses nothing, in fact deprives the passages and the playing of all expression — the player is lost. — The heavy stringing of the present day, if the whole mensuration is in correct proportion to it and the touch admits of every degree of shading, gives to the tone something of volume, some- thing masculine and satisfying — and is a great improvement in the construction of instruments. Fifth. The instrument must be equal, all the octaves must be in the most beautiful proportion to each other. A beautifully trained voice is also in this case the standard and the pattern. If any one says : " but my grand piano has a very beautiful bass ["—well so much the worse if the treble and the middle parts are not exactly in proportion also in regard to colour and quality of the sound. If any one says : " my daughter studied in Paris, and has acquired ex- ceedingly strong chest-tones" — so much the worse, if the other registers do not tally with them — and have been on the contrary pressed down and deteriorated by 124 the unnatural, presumptuous proceedings. Inequality of the piano spoils the most beautiful playing, and a player who has spirit and feeling becomes ill at ease, un- certain, faint-hearted, and despairs of his art. Sixth. The tone must come forth at every degree of strength or weakness easily and instantaneously on being struck, and must continue to sound and prolong itself. This produces the sonorous, an infinite charm united with grace which affects the feelings of every educated, unprejudiced person, which can be replaced by nothing else in the nature of sound, and which can be talked away by no Hegelian Nomenclature. This again leads me involuntarily to the human voice.— A voice that of itself sounds or appears to sound, when you are close by, strong, soft, full and withal even youthful, but remains too long and too much in the throat, and does not come out by the nearest and shortest road, and therefore does not lie in front, and does not resound instantaneously, does not produce and prolong the sound with ease, without too much breath, and not without the necessity of putting forth too much breath upon it : — such a voice is without charm and grace, is wanting in fulness of soul, in the enchanting. It excites no lasting interest, no real sympathies ! On the contrary the interest diminishes every time it is heard. I specify here as an instance the voice of Tichatschek of Dresden, and even the less trained one of Madame Giinther-Bachmann of Leipzig, which for this very reason for many years never lost their attractive power. And what better and surer proof of this position can be given than the voice of Jenny Lind, a voice not great, not strong, not imposing, in the deep notes even faulty, hoarse, at least muffled, which nevertheless produces the same effect before all men and before all nations? — I have expressed myself in more detail on this subject before, and now I repeat only this — that for this reason such a tone lying in front and coming forth easily, though itself of no imposing quality, developes a complete capacity of range even in the largest halls and theatres ; whilst the throat-voice, though apparently much stronger and fuller, even if it should, or — because it does, exert itself ever so much, remains unsatisfactory and without effect, and makes in piano a childish impression. Exactly the same is it' with the pianos, if the sound remains on the sounding-board and goes towards the inside (throat-sound), instead of going to the outside (sonorous- sound) as it ought to do. The player of the violin, who can never become a victim to a loss of ear and sound like our finger-heroes, but who on the other hand never during his life-time gets out. of the violin-trouble, will understand me the easiest. He does not frequently seize upon new violins just made in Paris, or wherever it might be, strictly according to Straduarius or Guarnerius, which, close to his ears or in a small room, sound strong and apparently impressive ; he will be sure to prefer for performances in large halls 125 aii apparently far weaW