PIANO AND SONG _HOW TO TEACH, HOW TO LEARN, _ AND HOW TO FORM A JUDGMENT OF MUSICALPERFORMANCES. Translated from the German OF FRIEDRICH WIECK. BOSTON:LOCKWOOD, BROOKS, & COMPANY. 1875. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by NOYES, HOLMES, AND COMPANY, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. _Cambridge:__Press of John Wilson and Son. _ TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. FRIEDRICH WIECK, the author of the work a translation of which is hereoffered to the public, was during his long life a distinguished teacherof music. He died in the autumn of 1873. He was the father and teacherof the celebrated pianist, Clara Wieck, now Fr. Dr. Clara Schumann, widow of the renowned composer Robert Schumann, who was also a pupil ofWieck. His second daughter, Fräulein Marie Wieck, is well known inGermany as an artistic performer on the piano-forte. I have translated this little book, with the belief that a knowledge ofthe author's views will be no less valuable in America than in his owncountry; and with the hope that it may find readers who will be glad toreceive the suggestions of so experienced a teacher. In illustration of his method, in addition to the two Etudes, alreadypublished by F. Whistling, Leipzig, a number of piano exercises, &c. , selected from the literary remains of Wieck, by his daughter MarieWieck and his pupil Louis Grosse, are, it is said, about to bepublished. I have omitted in the translation a few portions on the composition andmanagement of the opera, on the giving of concerts, and on theconstruction of the piano, thinking that they would be of littleinterest or practical value to the general public. MARY P. NICHOLS. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. I here present to the musical public a book written in a style of myown, not a scientific and systematically well-arranged treatise. This noreasonable man would expect of an old music-master, who, in his longpractice in the realm of tones, could not arrive at learned and toooften fruitless deductions. Nature made me susceptible to that which isgood and beautiful; a correct instinct and a tolerable understandinghave taught me to avoid the false and the vicious; a desire forincreased knowledge has led me to observe carefully whatever I met within my path in life; and I may say, without hesitation, that I haveendeavored, according to my ability, to fill the position to which Ihave been called. This is no vain boast, but only the justifiableassertion of a good conscience; and this no man needs to withhold. Forthese reasons, I have been unwilling to refrain from giving to the worlda true expression of my opinions and feelings. I trust they will meetwith a few sympathizing spirits who are willing to understand my aims;but I shall be still more happy if, here and there, a music-teacher willadopt the views here set forth, at the same time carefully andthoughtfully supplying many things which it did not enter into my planto explain more in detail. Abundant material lay spread out before me, and even increased upon my hands while I was writing. Art is indeed socomprehensive, and every thing in life is so closely connected with it, that whoever loves and fosters it will daily find in it new sources ofenjoyment and new incitements to study. The most experienced teacher ofart must be a constant learner. I have always held and still hold the opinions advanced in this work, and I have neglected no opportunity to impress them upon my pupils. I may be allowed to mention here, with some satisfaction, my daughtersClara and Marie; and, among numerous other pupils, I speak with equalpleasure of the estimable Herr Waldemar Heller, of Dresden, and Prof. E. F. Wenzel, of Leipzig. I have always enjoyed their affection andgratitude, and I feel a pride that they continue to defend and to teachthe principles which they have received from me. This is not the first time that I have appeared as an author. The"Signale für die musikalische Welt, " as well as the "Neue Zeitschriftfür Musik, " have published numerous essays from my pen under varioustitles. The approval which they met with, at the time of theirappearance, has induced me to undertake this larger work. Several ofthose earlier writings are included in this book, but in a partiallyaltered form. The frequently recurring character, the teacher Dominie, originated with these essays; I need hardly say that he represents myhumble self. Those who are otherwise unacquainted with me will throughhim understand my character, and will moreover see that a man of suchcaustic brevity can be, by no means, a master of polished style. Maythis last acknowledgment appease all those critics whose hair is made tostand on end by my inelegant mode of writing. I will make no furtherapology for my style. I have often availed myself of the dialogue form, because it was conducive to brevity; not less frequently I have made useof the form of the epistle and of personal discourse, as being morecongenial to my individual manner than that of a serious treatise. Ihave also undertaken to say something about singing! A piano-teacher, ifhe is possessed of mind and talent, as I suppose him to be, whether heteaches the elements or occupies himself with more advanced instruction, should understand the art of singing; he, at least, should show a warminterest in it, and should have an earnest love for it. When I speak ingeneral of singing, I refer to that species of singing which is a formof beauty, and which is the foundation for the most refined and mostperfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, I consider theculture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch uponthe piano. In many respects, the piano and singing should explain andsupplement each other. They should mutually assist in expressing thesublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. My book will makethis evident to many; but whether it will succeed with all, I doubt. Nota few will even be found who will lay aside my book with contempt, andwho will scorn the zeal of the "man of the past age. " I am quiteprepared for this: it is the fashion at present to undervalue the oldtimes and their defenders; but I shall continue to be conservative, until the "men of the future" shall be able to show me results whichshall excel those of the past, or at least shall equal them. And now I commend my little book to the public, trusting that it willinstruct the willing, correct the erring, incite the indolent, andchastise those who wilfully persist in the wrong. THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. CHAP. I. ON ELEMENTARY PIANO-FORTE INSTRUCTION II. AN EVENING ENTERTAINMENT AT HERR ZACH'S III. MANY STUDENTS OF THE PIANO AND FEW PLAYERS IV. A CONVERSATION WITH MRS. SOLID, AND FOUR LESSONS TO HER DAUGHTER V. ON THE PEDAL VI. THE SOFT-PEDAL SENTIMENT VII. A MUSICAL TEA-PARTY AT THE HOUSE OF JOHN SPRIGGINS VIII. SINGING AND SINGING-TEACHERS IX. THOUGHTS ON SINGING X. VISIT AT MRS. N. 'S XI. SECRETS XII. THOUGHTS ON PIANO-PLAYING XIII. ON MUSICAL TALENT XIV. EXTRAVAGANCES IN SINGING AND PIANO-PLAYING XV. CONCLUSION PIANO AND SONG. CHAPTER I. ON ELEMENTARY PIANO-FORTE INSTRUCTION. You ask, my dear friend, for some particular information about my pianomethod, especially with regard to my mode of elementary instruction, which differs essentially from that in common use. I give you here the main points; and, if you place confidence in myexperience of forty years, and if you will supply those details which Ihave omitted, your own varied experience as a thoughtful, talented, andearnest piano-teacher will enable you to understand my theory, from thefollowing dialogue between my humble self under the title of Dominie, myfriend, and the little Bessie:-- DOMINIE. My dear friend, how have you managed to make piano-playing soutterly distasteful to little Susie? and how is it that the instructionwhich you have given her for the last three years actually amounts tonothing? FRIEND. Well, I will tell you how I have proceeded. First I taught herthe names of the keys, that was pretty dull work for her; then I madeher learn the treble notes, which was a difficult matter; after that Itaught her the bass notes, which puzzled her still more; then Iundertook to teach her a pretty little piece, which she hoped to performfor the delight of her parents. Of course she constantly confused thebass and treble notes, she could not keep time, she always used thewrong fingers and could not learn it at all. Then I scolded her, --sheonly cried; I tried a little coaxing, --that made her cry worse; finallyI put an end to the piano lessons, and she begged me never to begin themagain; and there you have the whole story. DOMINIE. You certainly might have begun more judiciously. How is itpossible for a child to climb a ladder when not only the lower rounds, but a great many more, are wanting? Nature makes no leaps, least of allwith children. FRIEND. But did she not begin to climb the ladder at the bottom? DOMINIE. By no means. She certainly never was able to reach the top. Ishould say, rather, that she tumbled down head foremost. To speakmildly, she began to climb in the middle; and even then you tried tochase her up, instead of allowing her, carefully and quietly, to clamberup one step at a time. Bring me your youngest daughter, Bessie, and Iwill show you how I give a first lesson. DOMINIE. Bessie, can you say your letters after me? so, --_c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. BESSIE. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_. DOMINIE. Go on, --_g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. BESSIE. _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. DOMINIE. Once more: the first four again, then the next four. That'sright: now all the eight, one after the other, _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. BESSIE. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. DOMINIE. (_after repeating this several times_). That's good: now yousee you have learned something already. That is the musical alphabet, and those are the names of the white keys on the piano-forte. Presentlyyou shall find them out, and learn to name them yourself. But, first, you must take notice (I strike the keys in succession with my finger, from the one-lined _c_ to the highest treble) that these sounds growhigher and become sharper one after the other; and in this way (Istrike the keys from one-lined _c_ to the lowest bass) you hear thatthe sounds grow lower and heavier. The upper half, to the right, iscalled the treble; the lower half is the bass. You quite understand nowthe difference between the high sharp tones and the low deep ones? Nowwe will go on. What you see here, and will learn to play upon, is calledthe key-board, consisting of white keys and black ones. You shallpresently learn to give the right names both to the white keys and theblack; you see there are always two black keys and then three black keystogether, all the way up and down the key-board. Now put the fore-fingerof your right hand on the lower one of any of the two black keys thatare together, and let it slip off on to the white key next below it; nowyou have found the key called _c_; what is the name of the next keyabove it? Say the whole musical alphabet. BESSIE. _c_, _d_, _e_, _f_, _g_, _a_, _b_, _c_. DOMINIE. Well, then, that key is called _d_. BESSIE. Then this one must be _e_. DOMINIE. And now comes _f_. Anywhere on the key-board you can find _f_just as easily, if you put your finger on the lowest of any three blackkeys that are together, and let it slip off on to the white key nextbelow it. If you remember where these two keys, _f_ and _c_, are, bothin the treble and the bass, you can easily find the names of all theother keys. Now what is the next key above _f_? BESSIE. _g_, and then _a_, _b_, _c_. DOMINIE. Now we will say over several times the names of the keys, upwards and downwards, and learn to find them skipping about in anyirregular order. At the end of the lesson we will try them over oncemore, and before the next lesson you will know the names of all thewhite keys. You must practise finding them out by yourself; you can'tmake a mistake, if you are careful to remember where the _c_ and the _f_are. I told you that the sounds this way (I strike the keys upward) growhigher, and this way (I strike them downwards) they grow lower. So yousee no tones are just alike: one is either higher or lower than theother. Do you hear the difference? Now turn round so as not to see thekeys; I will strike two keys, one after the other; now which is thehighest (the sharpest), the first or the second? (I go on in this way, gradually touching keys nearer and nearer together; sometimes, in orderto puzzle her and to excite close attention, I strike the lower onegently and the higher one stronger, and keep on sounding them, lowerand lower towards the bass, according to the capacity of the pupil. ) Isuppose you find it a little tiresome to listen so closely; but adelicate, quick ear is necessary for piano-playing, and by and by itwill become easier to you. But I won't tire you with it any more now, wewill go on to something else. Can you count 3, --1, 2, 3? BESSIE. Yes, indeed, and more too. DOMINIE. We'll see; now keep counting 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, as evenly andregularly as you can. (I lead her to count steadily, and strike at thesame time a chord in three even quarter-notes. ) Now we'll see if you cancount evenly by yourself. (I count 1 of the chord with her, and leaveher to count 2 and 3 by herself; or else I count with her at 2, and lether count 1 and 3 alone; but I am careful to strike the chord promptlyand with precision. Afterwards I strike the chord in eighth-notes, andlet her count 1, 2, 3; in short, I give the chord in various ways, inorder to teach her steadiness in counting, and to confine her attention. In the same way I teach her to count 1, 2, 1, 2; or 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; atthe same time telling her that music is sometimes counted in tripletime, and sometimes in 2/4 or 4/4 time. ) Now, Bessie, you have learnedto count very well, and to know the difference in the tones. It is notevery child that learns this in the first lesson. If you don't get tiredof it, you will some time learn to be a good player. As soon as you arerested, I will tell you about something else, that you will have tolisten to very carefully. BESSIE. But I like it, and will take pains to listen just as closely asI can. DOMINIE. When several tones are struck at the same time, if they soundwell together, they make what we call a chord. But there are both majorand minor chords: the major chord sounds joyous, gay; the minor, sad, dull, as you would say; the former laugh, the latter weep. Now takenotice whether I am right. (I strike the chord of C major; then, after ashort pause, that of C minor; and try, by a stronger or lighter touch, to make her listen first to the major and then to the minor chords. Sheusually distinguishes correctly; but it will not do to dwell too longupon these at first, or to try to enforce any thing by too much talk andexplanation. ) Now I will tell you that the difference in the sounds ofthese chords is in the third, counted upwards from the lower note _c_, and depends upon whether you take it half a tone higher or lower, _e_or _e_ flat. I shall explain this better to you by and by, when you cometo learn about the tonic, the third, the fifth or dominant, the octave, and so on. (It is advantageous and psychologically correct to touchoccasionally, in passing, upon points which will be more thoroughlytaught later. It excites the interest of the pupil. Thus the customarytechnical terms are sometimes made use of beforehand, and a needful, cursory explanation given of them. ) That is right; you can tell thempretty well already; now we will repeat once more the names of the keys, and then we will stop for to-day. Just see how many things you havelearned in this lesson. BESSIE. It was beautiful! DOMINIE. I hope you will always find it so. BESSIE. When may I have another lesson? DOMINIE. Day after to-morrow; at first, you must have at least threelessons a week. BESSIE. What shall I do in the next lesson? DOMINIE. I shall repeat all that I have taught you to-day; but I shallteach you a great deal of it in a different way, and every time I shallteach it to you differently, so that it shall always be interesting toyou. In the next lesson we will begin to play, first on the table, andat last on the piano. You will learn to move your fingers lightly andloosely, and quite independently of the arm, though at first they willbe weak; and you will learn to raise them and let them fall properly. Besides that, we will contrive a few exercises to teach you to make thewrist loose, for that must be learned in the beginning in order toacquire a fine touch on the piano; that is, to make the tones sound asbeautiful as possible. I shall show you how to sit at the piano and howto hold your hands. You will learn the names of the black keys and thescale of C, with the half-step from the 3d to the 4th and also that fromthe 7th to the 8th, which latter is called the leading note, which leadsinto C. (This is quite important for my method, for in this way thedifferent keys can be clearly explained. ) You will learn to find thechord of C in the bass and the treble, and to strike them with bothhands together. And then in the third or fourth lesson, after you knowquite perfectly all that I have already taught you, I will teach you toplay a little piece that will please you, and then you will really be aplayer, a pianist. FRIEND. From whom have you learned all this? It goes like thelightning-train. DOMINIE. A great many people can learn _what_ is to be taught; but_how_ it is to be taught I have only found out by devoting my wholemind, with real love and constant thought, to the musical improvementand general mental development of my pupils. The advancement willunquestionably be rapid, for it proceeds step by step, and one thing isfounded upon another; the pupil learns every thing quietly, thoughtfully, and surely, without going roundabout, without anyhindrances and mistakes to be unlearned. I never try to teach too muchor too little; and, in teaching each thing, I try to prepare and lay thefoundation for other things to be afterwards learned. I consider it veryimportant not to try to cram the child's memory with the teacher'swisdom (as is often done in a crude and harsh way); but I endeavor toexcite the pupil's mind, to interest it, and to let it develop itself, and not to degrade it to a mere machine. I do not require the practiceof a vague, dreary, time and mind killing piano-jingling, in which way, as I see, your little Susie was obliged to learn; but I observe amusical method, and in doing this always keep strictly in view theindividuality and gradual development of the pupil. In more advancedinstruction, I even take an interest in the general culture anddisposition of the pupil, and improve every opportunity to call forththe sense of beauty, and continually to aid in the intellectualdevelopment. FRIEND. But where are the notes all this time? DOMINIE. Before that, we have a great deal to do that is interesting andagreeable. I keep constantly in view the formation of a good technique;but I do not make piano-playing distasteful to the pupil by urging herto a useless and senseless mechanical "practising. " I may perhaps teachthe treble notes after the first six months or after sixty or eightylessons, but I teach them in my own peculiar way, so that the pupil'smind may be kept constantly active. With my own daughters I did notteach the treble notes till the end of the first year's instruction, thebass notes several months later. FRIEND. But what did you do meanwhile? DOMINIE. You really ought to be able to answer that question foryourself after hearing this lesson, and what I have said about it. Ihave cultivated a musical taste in my pupils, and almost taught them tobe skilful, good players, without knowing a note. I have taught acorrect, light touch of the keys from the fingers, and of whole chordsfrom the wrist; to this I have added the scales in all the keys; butthese should not be taught at first, with both hands together. The pupilmay gradually acquire the habit of practising them together later; butit is not desirable to insist on this too early, for in playing thescales with both hands together the weakness of the fourth finger isconcealed, and the attention distracted from the feeble tones, and theresult is an unequal and poor scale. At the same time, I have in every way cultivated the sense of time, andtaught the division of the bars. I have helped the pupils to inventlittle cadences with the dominant and sub-dominant and even littleexercises, to their great delight and advantage; and I have, of course, at the same time insisted on the use of the correct fingering. You seethat, in order to become practical, I begin with the theory. So, forinstance, I teach the pupil to find the triad and the dominant chord ofthe seventh, with their transpositions in every key, and to practisethem diligently; and to make use of these chords in all sorts of newfigures and passages. But all this must be done without haste, andwithout tiring the pupil too much with one thing, or wearing out theinterest, which is all-important. After that, I teach them to play fifty or sixty little pieces, which Ihave written for this purpose. They are short, rhythmically balanced, agreeable, and striking to the ear, and aim to develop gradually anincreased mechanical skill. I require them to be learned by heart, andoften to be transposed into other keys; in which way the memory, whichis indispensable for piano playing, is unconsciously greatly increased. They must be learned _perfectly_ and played well, often, according tothe capacity of the pupil, even finely; in strict time (counting aloudis seldom necessary) and without stumbling or hesitating; first slowly, then fast, faster, slow again, _staccato_, _legato_, _piano_, _forte_, _crescendo_, _diminuendo_, &c. This mode of instruction I find alwayssuccessful; but I do not put the cart before the horse, and, withoutprevious technical instruction, begin my piano lessons with theextremely difficult acquirement of the treble and bass notes. In a word, I have striven, as a psychologist and thinker, as a man and teacher, fora many-sided culture. I have also paid great attention to the art ofsinging, as a necessary foundation for piano-playing. I have devotedsome talent, and at least an enthusiastic, unwearied love to thesubject. I have never stood still; have learned something of teachingevery day, and have sought always to improve myself; I have always beensomething new and different, in every lesson and with every child; Ihave always kept up a cheerful, joyous courage, and this has usuallykindled the same in my pupil, because it came from the heart. Moreover, I have never been a man of routine, have never shown myself a pedant, who is obliged to hold fast to certain ideas and views. I have lived up to the century, and have tried to understand and toadvance the age; have heard every thing great and fine in music, andhave induced my pupils also to hear it. I have opposed withdetermination all the prejudices and false tendencies of the times, andnever have allowed impatient parents to give advice about my lessons. Ihave insisted upon a good and well-tuned instrument for my pupils, andhave endeavored to merit the love and confidence both of my pupils andof their parents. In fact, I have devoted myself thoroughly to mycalling, and have been wholly a teacher, always fixing my eye on thetrue, the beautiful, and the artistic; and in this way have been ofservice to my pupils. FRIEND. But how do you find parents who sympathize with your ideas andwith your lofty views? DOMINIE. I have found that almost all the parents of my pupils haveentered into my views, if not immediately, at least after they had beenpresent at a few lessons. In the case of those few who would not enterinto them, I have abandoned the lessons; but, nevertheless, I have foundthat my time has been fully occupied. My friend, do you not think thatviews like these will assist in the training of young and inexperiencedteachers, who are striving for improvement? and do you not think theywill be useful even to those who already possess general mental culture, and who are animated by an ardent love for their calling? I especiallyavoid giving here any exclusive method, a servile following of whichwould be entirely contrary to my intentions, and, in fact, contrary tomy method. But as for the rest! Alas, all those who do not understand me, or whochoose to misunderstand me, those are the worst!--especially theill-natured people, the _classical_ people who bray about music, stridestraight to the notes, and have no patience till they come to Beethoven;who foolishly prate and fume about my unclassical management, but atbottom only wish to conceal their own unskilfulness, their want ofculture and of disinterestedness, or to excuse their habitual drudgery. Lazy people without talent I cannot undertake to inspirit, to teach, and to cultivate. This chapter will, almost by itself, point out to unprejudiced minds mymethod of giving more advanced instruction, and will show in what spiritI have educated my own daughters, even to the highest point of musicalculture, without using the slightest severity. It will, indeed, causegreat vexation to the ill-minded and even to the polite world, whoattribute the musical position of my daughters in the artistic world toa tyranny used by me, to immoderate and unheard-of "practising, " and totortures of every kind; and who do not hesitate to invent andindustriously to circulate the most absurd reports about it, instead ofinquiring into what I have already published about teaching, andcomparing it with the management which, with their own children, has ledonly to senseless thrumming. CHAPTER II. AN EVENING ENTERTAINMENT AT HERR ZACH'S. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. HERR ZACH, _formerly a flute-player, not very wealthy. _HIS WIFE, _of the family of Tz. (rather sharp-tempered). _STOCK, _her son, 17 years old (is studying the piano thoroughly). _MR. BUFFALO, _music-master of the family. _DOMINIE, _piano-teacher (rather gruff). _CECILIA, _his daughter, 13 years old (shy). _ ZACH (_to Dominie_). I regret that I was unable to attend the concertyesterday. I was formerly musical myself and played on the flute. Yourdaughter, I believe, plays pretty well. DOMINIE. Well, yes! perhaps something more than _pretty well_. We are inearnest about music. MADAME, of the Tz. Family (_envious because Cecilia received applausefor her public performance yesterday, and because Mr. Buffalo had beenunable to bring out Stock, --all in one breath_). When did your daughterbegin to play? Just how old is she now? Does she like playing? They sayyou are very strict, and tie your daughters to the piano-stool. How manyhours a day do you make her practise? Don't you make her exert herselftoo much? Has she talent? Isn't she sickly? DOMINIE. Don't you think she looks in good health, madam, --tall andstrong for her years? MADAME, of the Tz. Family. But perhaps she might look more cheerful, ifshe was not obliged to play on the piano so much. DOMINIE (_bowing_). I can't exactly say. ZACH (_suddenly interrupting, and holding Dominie by the button-hole_). They say you torment and ill-treat your daughters dreadfully; that theeldest was obliged to practise day and night. Well, you shall hear myStock play this evening, who, some time, by the grace of God, is to takethe place of Thalberg in the world. Now give me your opinion freely (ofcourse, I was only to praise): we should like very much to hear what youthink about his playing, though perhaps Mr. Buffalo may not agree withyou. (_Mr. Buffalo is looking through the music-case and picking out all the Etudes, by listening to which Dominie is to earn his supper. _) DOMINIE (_resigned and foreseeing that he shall be bored_). I have hearda great deal of the industry of your son, Stock. What are you studyingnow, Mr. Stock? STOCK (_in proud self-consciousness, rather Sophomoric_). I play sixhours a day, two hours scales with both hands together, and four hoursEtudes. I have already gone through the first book of Clementi and fourbooks of Cramer. Now I am in the Gradus ad Parnassum: I have alreadystudied the right fingering for it. DOMINIE. Indeed, you are very much in earnest: that speaks well for you, and for Mr. Buffalo. But what pieces are you studying with the Etudes?Hummel, Mendelssohn, Chopin, or Schumann? STOCK (_contemptuously_). Mr. Buffalo can't bear Chopin and Schumann. Mr. Buffalo lately played through Schumann's "Kinderscenen, " that peopleare making such a talk about. My mamma, who is also musical, and used tosing when papa played the flute, said, "What ridiculous little thingsare those? Are they waltzes for children? and then the babyish names forthem! He may play such stuff to his wife, but not to us. " DOMINIE. Well, these "Kinderscenen" _are_ curious little bits forgrown-up men's hands. Your mother is right, they are too short: therecertainly ought to be more of them. But they are not waltzes! STOCK. Indeed, I am not allowed to play waltzes at all. My teacher isvery thorough: first, I shall have to dig through all the Gradus adParnassum; and then he is going to undertake a concerto of Beethoven'swith me, and will write the proper fingering over it. I shall play thatin public; and then, as he and my aunt say, "I shall be the death of youall. " MR. BUFFALO (_who has overheard him, steps up_). Now, Herr Dominie, howdo you like my method? Perhaps you have a different one? Nevertheless, that shan't prevent our being good friends. Certainly, if any thing isto be accomplished in these times, it is necessary to keep atwork, --that is my doctrine. But Stock, here, has unusual patience andperseverance. He has worked through all Cramer's 96 Etudes in successionwithout grumbling. He was wretched enough over them; but his papa boughthim a saddle-horse to ride round on every day, and he revived in thefresh air. (_Herr Zach with his wife and an old aunt are playing cards in the further room. _) DOMINIE. But do you not combine the study of musical pieces with thestudy of exercises, in order that the cultivation of the taste may gohand in hand with mechanical improvement? MR. BUFFALO. My dear friend, you are too narrow-minded there, --you makea mistake: taste must come of itself, from much playing and with years. Your Cecilia played the two new waltzes, and the Nocturne of Chopin, andBeethoven's trio very nicely. But then that was all drilled into her: wecould tell that well enough by hearing it, --Stock and I. DOMINIE. Did it sound unnatural to you, --mannered? and did you think itwooden, dry, dull? MR. BUFFALO. Not exactly that; but the trouble was it sounded _studied_. The public applauded, it is true; but they don't know any thing. Stockand I thought-- DOMINIE. Do you not think that the taste for a beautiful interpretationmay be early awakened, without using severity with the pupil? and thatto excite the feeling for music, to a certain degree, even in earlyyears, is in fact essential? The neglect of this very thing is thereason that we are obliged to listen to so many players, who really havemechanically practised themselves to death, and have reduced musical artto mere machinery, --to an idle trick of the fingers. MR. BUFFALO. That's all nonsense. I say teach them the scales, to run upand down the gamut! Gradus ad Parnassum's the thing! Classical, classical! Yesterday you made your daughter play that Trill-Etude byCarl Meyer. Altogether too fine-sounding! It tickles the ear, to besure, especially when it is played in such a studied manner. _We_ stickto Clementi and Cramer, and to Hummel's piano-school, --the good oldschool. You have made a great mistake with your eldest daughter. DOMINIE. The world does not seem to agree with you. MADAME, of the Tz. Family (_has listened and lost a trick by it, stepsup quickly, and says maliciously_). You must agree that she would haveplayed better, if you had left her for ten years with Cramer andClementi. We don't like this tendency to Schumann and Chopin. But whatfolly to talk! One must be careful what one says to the father of such achild! It is quite a different thing with us. Mr. Buffalo is bound toour Stock by no bond of affection. He follows out his aim without anyhesitation or vanity, and looks neither to the right nor to the left, but straightforward. DOMINIE. I beg your pardon, madam: you may be right, --from your point ofview. We must be a little indulgent with sensitive people. But will notyour son play to us? (_Stock plays two Etudes of Clementi, three of Cramer, and four from the Gradus, but did not even grow warm over them. The horse his father gave him has made him quite strong. _) * * * * * I may be asked, "But how did Stock play?" How? I do not wish to write atreatise: my plan is only to give hints and suggestions. I am notwriting in the interest of Stock, Buffalo, & Co. After the playing, we went to supper: the oysters were good, but thewine left a little sharp taste. My timid daughter did not like oysters;but she ate a little salad, and at table listened instead of talking. A few innocent anecdotes were related at table about horses and ballsand dogs and Stock's future. On taking leave, Madame saidcondescendingly to Cecilia, "If you keep on, my dear, one of these daysyou will play very nicely. " CHAPTER III. MANY STUDENTS OF THE PIANO AND FEW PLAYERS. _(A Letter addressed to the Father of a Piano Pupil). _ It is a pity that you have no sons, for a father takes great delight inhis sons; but I agree with you, when you say that, if you had one, youwould rather he should break stones than pound the piano. You say youhave many friends who rejoice in that paternal felicity, and whose sons, great and small, bright and dull, have been learning the piano for threeyears or more, and still can do nothing. You are doubtless right; and, further, they never will learn any thing. You ask, Of what use is it toman or boy to be able to stammer through this or that waltz, orpolonaise or mazurka, with stiff arms, weak fingers, a stupid face, andlounging figure? What gain is it to art? You say, Is not time worthgold, and yet we are offered lead? And the poor teachers tormentthemselves and the boys, abuse art and the piano; and at the end of theevening, in despair, torment their own wives, after they have all daylong been scolding, cuffing, and lamenting, without success orconsolation. You speak the truth. I have had the same experience myself, though not to the same degree, and though I did not bring home to mywife a dreary face, but only a good appetite. But I did not give myselfup to lamentation over piano-teaching. I gathered up courage and roseabove mere drudgery. I reflected and considered and studied, and triedwhether I could not manage better, as I found I could not succeed withthe boys; and I have managed better and succeeded better, because I havehit upon a different way, and one more in accordance with nature thanthat used in the piano schools. I laid down, as the first and mostimportant principle, the necessity for "the formation of a fine touch, "just as singing-teachers rely upon the culture of a fine tone, in orderto teach singing well. I endeavored, without notes, to make thenecessary exercises so interesting that the attention of the pupilsalways increased; and that they even, after a short time, took greatpleasure in a sound, tender, full, singing tone; an acquirement which, unfortunately, even many _virtuosos_ do not possess. In this way, wemade an opening at the beginning, not in the middle: we harnessed thehorse _before_ the wagon. The pupil now obtained a firm footing, and hadsomething to enjoy, without being tormented at every lesson with drymatters to be learned, the advantage of which was not obvious to him, and the final aim of which he did not perceive. Until a correct touchhas been acquired, it is of no use to talk about a fine singing tone. How can we expect to arouse an interest by mere toneless tinkling, whilestiff, inflexible fingers are struggling with the notes; while the pupilsees only his inability to do any thing right, and receives nothing butblame from the teacher; while, at the same time, so much is to be keptin mind, and he must be required to observe the time, and to use theright fingers? Poor, stupid children! Later, after teaching the notes, Idid not fall into the universal error of selecting pieces which wereeither too difficult, or such as, though purely musical, were not welladapted to the piano; but I chose short, easy pieces, without prominentdifficulties, in the correct and skilful performance of which the pupilmight take pleasure. Consequently, they were studied carefully, slowly, willingly, and with interest, which last is a great thing gained; forthe pupil rejoiced in the anticipation of success. The struggle oversingle difficult places destroys all pleasure, palsies talent, createsdisgust, and, what is worse, it tends to render uncertain theconfirmation of the faculty already partially acquired, --of _bringingout a fine legato tone, with loose and quiet fingers and a yielding, movable wrist, without the assistance of the arm_. You suppose that talent is especially wanting, and not merely goodteachers; for otherwise, with the zealous pursuit of piano-playing inSaxony, we should produce hundreds who could, at least, play correctlyand with facility, if not finely. Here you are mistaken: we have, on thecontrary, a great deal of musical talent. There are, also, even in theprovincial cities, teachers who are not only musical, but who alsopossess so much zeal and talent for teaching that many of their pupilsare able to play tolerably well. I will add further, that the taste formusic is much more cultivated and improved, even in small places, bysinging-societies and by public and private concerts, than was formerlythe case. We also have much better aids in instruction books, études, and suitable piano pieces; but still we find everywhere "jingling" and"piano-banging, " as you express it, and yet no piano-playing. Let us consider this aspect of the subject a little more closely. Inthe first place, the proper basis for a firm structure is wanting. Theknowledge of the notes cannot afford a proper basis, except in so far asit is of service in the execution of a piece. Of what use are the notesto a singer, if he has no attack, and does not understand the managementof the voice? of what use to the piano-learner, if he has no touch, notone on the piano-forte. Is this to be acquired by playing the notes?But how then is it to be learned? One thing more. Owing to an over-zeal for education, children are keptin school from seven to ten hours in a day, and then they are requiredto work and commit to memory in their free hours, when they ought to beenjoying the fresh air. But when are they then to have their pianolessons? After they have escaped from the school-room, and consequentlywhen the children are exhausted and their nerves unstrung. What cruelty!Instead of bread and butter and fresh air, piano lessons! The pianoought to be studied with unimpaired vigor, and with great attention andinterest, otherwise no success is to be expected. Besides this, muchwriting, in itself, makes stiff, inflexible fingers. But when is thechild to find time for the necessary practice of the piano lessons?Well, in the evening, after ten o'clock for refreshment, while papa andmamma are in bed! And now, after the school-days are happily over, andthe children have possibly retained their red cheeks, then theiroccupations in life lay claim to their time; or, if they are girls, theyare expected to busy themselves with embroidery, knitting, sewing, crochet, making clothes, house-work, tea parties, and alas! with balls;and now, too, comes the time for lovers. Do you imagine that the fingersof pupils sixteen years old can learn mechanical movements as easily asthose of children nine years old? In order to satisfy the presentdemands in any degree, the technique should be settled at sixteen. Underall these circumstances, we find the best teachers become discouraged, and fall into a dull routine, which truly can lead to no success. In conclusion, I beg you to invite the piano teacher, Mr. Strict, towhom you have confided the instruction of your only daughter, Rosalie, to pay me a visit, and I will give him particular directions for agradual development in piano-playing, up to Beethoven's op. 109 orChopin's F minor concerto. But I shall find him too fixed in his owntheories, too much of a composer, too conceited and dogmatic, and notsufficiently practical, to be a good teacher, or to exert muchinfluence; and, indeed, he has himself a stiff, restless, clumsy touch, that expends half its efforts in the air. He talks bravely of études, scales, &c. ; but the question with regard to these is _how they aretaught_. The so-called practising of exercises, without havingpreviously formed a sure touch, and carefully and skilfully fostering itis not much more useful than playing pieces. But I hear him reply, withproud and learned self-consciousness: "Music, music! Classical, classical! Spirit! Expression! Bach, Beethoven, Mendelssohn!" That isjust the difficulty. Look at his pupils, at his pianists! See how hischildren are musically stifled, and hear his daughter sing the classicalarias composed by himself! However, it is all musical! Farewell. CHAPTER IV. A CONVERSATION WITH MRS. SOLID, AND FOUR LESSONS TO HER DAUGHTER. MRS. SOLID. I should be glad to understand how it is that your daughtersare able to play the numerous pieces which I have heard from them socorrectly and intelligently, without bungling or hesitation, and with somuch expression, and the most delicate shading; in fact, in such amasterly manner. From my youth upwards, I have had tolerableinstruction. I have played scales and études for a long time; and havetaken great pleasure in studying and industriously practising numerouscompositions of Kalkbrenner and Hummel, under their own direction. Ihave even been celebrated for my talent; but, nevertheless, I never havehad the pleasure of being able to execute any considerable piece ofmusic to my own satisfaction or that of others; and I fear it will bethe same with my daughter Emily. DOMINIE. In order to give a satisfactory answer to your question, I willlay before you a few of my principles and opinions in respect tomusical culture, with special reference to piano-playing. Educatedladies of the present time make greater pretensions and greater demandsthan formerly in regard to music and musical execution; and consequentlytheir own performances do not usually correspond with their more or lesscultivated taste for the beautiful, which has been awakened by theircareful general education. Thus they are aware that they are not able togive satisfaction, either to themselves or to others; and from thisarises a want of that confidence in their own powers, which shouldamount almost to a consciousness of infallibility, in order to produce asatisfactory musical performance. This confidence has its foundation ina full, firm, clear, and musical touch, the acquisition of which hasbeen, and is still, too much neglected by masters and teachers. Acorrect mechanical facility and its advanced cultivation rest upon thisbasis alone; which, moreover, requires special attention upon our softlyleathered pianos, which are much more difficult to play upon than theold-fashioned instruments. It is a mistake to suppose that a correcttouch, which alone can produce a good execution, will come of itself, through the practice of études and scales. Even with masters, it isunusual to meet with a sound, fine, unexceptionable touch, like that ofField and Moscheles, and among the more recent that of Thalberg, Chopin, Mendelssohn, and Henselt. I will speak now of the selection of pieces. Our ladies are notcontented to play simple music, which presents few difficulties andrequires no involved fingering; and from which they might graduallyadvance by correct and persevering study to more difficult pieces. Theyat once seize upon grand compositions by Beethoven, C. M. Von Weber, Mendelssohn, Chopin, and others, and select also, for the sake ofvariety, the bravoura pieces of Liszt, Thalberg, Henselt, &c. How canthey expect to obtain a command of such pieces, when their earlyeducation was insufficient for our exalted demands in mechanical skill, and their subsequent instruction has also been faulty and withoutmethod? If you were to request me to supply in some degree your owndeficiencies, before I proceed to the further education of yourdaughter, I should not begin with the wisdom of our friend Mr. Buffalo:"Madam, you must every day practise the major and minor scales, in allthe keys, with both hands at once, and also in thirds and in sixths; andyou must work three or four hours daily at études of Clementi, Cramer, and Moscheles; otherwise, your playing will never amount to any thing. " Such advice has frequently been given by teachers like Mr. Buffalo, andis still daily insisted on; but we will, for the present, set suchnonsense aside. I shall, in the first place, endeavor to improve yourtouch, which is too thin, feeble, and incorrect; which makes too muchunnecessary movement, and tries to produce the tone in the air, insteadof drawing it out with the keys. This will not require a long time, forI have well-formed, young hands to work upon, with skilful fingers ingood condition. I will employ, for this purpose, several of the shortexercises mentioned in my first chapter, and shall require them to betransposed into various keys, and played without notes, in order thatyou may give your whole attention to your hands and fingers. Above allthings, I wish you to observe how I try to bring out from the piano themost beautiful possible tone, with a quiet movement of the fingers and acorrect position of the hand; without an uneasy jerking of the arm, andwith ease, lightness, and sureness. I shall certainly insist upon scalesalso, for it is necessary to pay great care and attention to passing thethumb under promptly and quietly, and to the correct, easy position ofthe arm. But I shall be content with the practice of scales for aquarter of an hour each day, which I require to be played, according tomy discretion, _staccato_, _legato_, fast, slow, _forte_, _piano_, withone hand or with both hands, according to circumstances. This short timedaily for scale-practice is sufficient, provided, always, that I have nostiff fingers, or unpractised or ruined structure of the hand toeducate. For very young beginners with weak fingers, the scales shouldbe practised only _piano_, until the fingers acquire strength. I should continue in this way with you for two weeks, but every day withsome slight change. After a short time, I would combine with thispractice the study of two or three pieces, suitably arranged for thepiano; for example, Mozart's minuet in E flat, arranged by Schulhoff, and his drinking-song, or similar pieces. We will, at present, havenothing to do with Beethoven. You are, perhaps, afraid that all thismight be tedious; but I have never been considered tedious in mylessons. I wish you, for the present, not to practise any pieces orexercises except in my presence, until a better touch has beenthoroughly established. You must also give up entirely, for a time, playing your previous pieces; for they would give you opportunity tofall again into your faulty mode of playing. I shall also soon put inpractice one of my maxims in teaching; viz. , that, merely for theacquisition of mechanical facility, all my pupils shall be in the habitof playing daily some appropriate piece, that by its perfect masterythey may gain a fearless confidence. They must regard this piece as acompanion, friend, and support. I wish you to learn to consider it anecessity every day, before practising or studying your new piece ofmusic, to play this piece, even if it is done quite mechanically, two orthree times, first slowly, then faster; for without ready, flexiblefingers, my teaching and preaching will be valueless. MRS. SOLID. But what pieces, for instance? DOMINIE. For beginners, perhaps one or two of Hünten's EtudesMelodiques; a little later, one of Czerny's very judicious Etudes fromhis opus 740; and for more advanced pupils, after they are able tostretch easily and correctly, his Toccata, opus 92, --a piece which mythree daughters never give up playing, even if they do not play it everyday. They practise pieces of this description as a remedy for mechanicaldeficiencies, changing them every three or four months. In the selectionof these, I aim especially at the practice of thirds, trills, stretches, scales, and passages for strengthening the fourth finger; andI choose them with reference to the particular pieces, sonatas, variations, concertos, &c. , which they are at the time studying. Likewise, in the choice of the latter, I pursue a different course fromthat which the teachers alluded to above and others are accustomed tofollow; though I hope my management is never pedantic, but cautious, artistic, and psychologic. It is easy to see that many teachers, bygiving lessons continually, particularly to pupils without talent, areled, even with the best intentions, to fall into a mere routine. We findthem often impatient and unsympathetic, especially in the teaching oftheir own compositions; and again, by their one-sided opinions andcapricious requirements, by devoting attention to matters of smallimportance, and by all sorts of whimsicalities, they contract theintellectual horizon of their pupils, and destroy their interest in thelessons. MRS. SOLID. Your careful mode of proceeding is certainly extremelyinteresting and convincing; but allow me to request an answer to variousobjections and considerations which are now and then brought forward, particularly by teachers. DOMINIE. To that I am quite accustomed. The good and the beautifulnever obtain uncontested recognition. No one has ever offered any newimprovement, and fearlessly spoken the truth, without being attacked, defamed, and despised, or entirely misunderstood. Our age can show manyproofs of this; for example, let us remember homoeopathy and magnetism. Clara Wieck was not appreciated in Leipzig until she had been admired inParis; nor Marie Wieck, because she does not play exactly as her sisterClara does. The same is the case with my present book, whichrelentlessly treads upon the incredible follies and lamentable errors ofthe times. I am quite prepared for opposition of any kind. MRS. SOLID. I should like to suggest to you that there are otherteachers who have given themselves a great deal of trouble, and who arevery particular; but it is not their good fortune to have daughters likeyours to educate. DOMINIE. Have given themselves a great deal of trouble? What do you meanby that? If they do not take pains in the right way, or at the righttime and place, it is all labor in vain. Of what use is mere unskilful, stupid industry? For instance, when a teacher, in order to correct astiff use of the fingers and wrist, and the general faulty touch of hispupil, gives some wonderful étude or a piece with great stretches andarpeggios for the left hand, and gives himself unwearied trouble overit, it is a proof of abundant painstaking; but it is labor thrown away, and only makes the imperfect mode of performance the worse. And now with regard to my daughters. It has been their fortune to havehad me for a father and teacher: they certainly have talent, and I havebeen successful in rousing and guiding it. Envy, jealousy, pride, andoffended egotism have tried as long as possible to dispute this; but atlast the effort is abandoned. They say that it requires no art toeducate such talent as theirs, that it almost "comes of itself. " Thisassertion is just as false and contrary to experience as it is common, even with educated and thoughtful people, who belong to no clique. Lichtenburg says: "It is just those things upon which everybody isagreed that should be subjected to investigation. " Well, I have made athorough investigation of these accusations, with regard to my threedaughters, and all the talented pupils whom I have been able to educatefor good amateurs, and, according to circumstances, for good publicperformers. The great number of these suffices for my justification. Imust add, still further, that it is exactly the "great talents" forsinging, or for the piano, who require the most careful, thoughtful, andprudent guidance. Look around at the multitude of abortive talents andgeniuses! Talented pupils are just the ones who have an irresistibledesire to be left to their own discretion; they esteem destruction bythemselves more highly than salvation by others. MRS. SOLID. But it is said that you have been able to educate only yourthree daughters, and none others for public performers. DOMINIE. Madam, you cannot be serious. If I were to declaim Leporello'slist, you might justly consider it an exaggeration; but if, instead ofreplying to you, I should urge you to read what I have written on thesubject, or if I should present your daughter Emily to you, after threeor four years, as a superior performer, you might pardon my vanity andmy ability. I do not possess any magic wand, which envy and folly couldnot impute to me as an offence. Nevertheless, unless circumstances werevery adverse, I have, at all events, been able in a short time toaccomplish for my pupils the acquisition of a good, or at least animproved, musical touch; and have thus laid a foundation, which otherteachers have failed to do by their method, or rather want of method. But you have something else on your mind? MRS. SOLID. You anticipate me. I was educated in Berlin, and in thatcapital of intelligence a taste prevails for opposition, negation, andthorough criticism. How can you educate artists and _virtuosos_, whenyou yourself are so little a _virtuoso_? You are not even a composer orlearned contrapuntist. A teacher of music wins much greaterconsideration, if he himself plays concertos and composes pretty things, and if he can calculate and give vent to his genius in double and triplefugues, and in inverse and retrograde canons. You cannot even accompanyyour pupils with the violin or flute, which is certainly very useful andimproving. DOMINIE. The egotist is seldom capable of giving efficient instruction:that lies in the nature of the case. Even a child will soon perceivewhether the teacher has a sole eye to its interest, or has other andpersonal aims in view. The former bears good fruits, the latter verydoubtful ones. I will say nothing about the stand-point of thoseegotistical teachers whose first aim is to bring themselves intoprominence, and who at the same time are perhaps travelling publicperformers and composers. They are, it may be, chiefly occupied withdouble and triple fugues (the more inverted the more learned), and theyconsider this knowledge the only correct musical foundation. At the sametime, they often possess a touch like that of your brother, Mr. Strict, mentioned in my third chapter, and are utterly devoid of true taste andfeeling. While pursuing their fruitless piano lessons, which are quiteforeign to their customary train of thought, they regard theiroccupation only as a milch cow; and they obtain the money of sanguineparents, and sacrifice the time of their pupils. You may try suchagreeable personages for yourself: I could wish you no greaterpunishment. And now I will speak of the violin and the flute. I have never availedmyself of those expedients; it is a method which I have never learned. Iwill describe for your amusement a few interesting incidents, which Ihad an opportunity to witness in a not inconsiderable city, while on ajourney with my daughters. The teacher with the flute was a gentle, quiet, mild musician; he was on very good terms with his pupil, andindulged in no disputes; every thing went on peaceably, without passion, and "in time. " They both twittered tenderly and amicably, and wereplaying, in celebration of the birthday of an old aunt who was ratherhard of hearing, a sonata by Kuhlau, which was quite within the power ofboth. The old aunt, who, of course, could hear but little of the soft, flute tones, and the light, thin, modest, square piano, kept asking me:"Is not that exquisite? what do you think of it?" I nodded my head andpraised it, for the music was modest and made no pretension. I will pass next to the violin. The possessor of this was a type ofpresumption, vulgarity, and coarseness, and understood how to make animpression on his pupils and their parents by the assumption ofextraordinary ability. He consequently enjoyed a certain consideration. He was, moreover, a good musician, and played the violin tolerably inaccompanying the piano, in Beethoven's opus 17 and 24. In this portraityou have a specimen of the violinist as a piano teacher. Of course heunderstood nothing of piano-playing, and took no interest in Wieck'srubbish about beauty of tone; he cared only for Beethoven. He now andthen tried to sprawl out a few examples of fingering, in a spider-likefashion; but they were seldom successful. His pupils also possessed thepeculiar advantage of playing "in time, " when they did not stick fastin the difficult places. At such times he always became very cross andsevere, and talked about "precision;" in that way instilling respect. His pupils did not jingle, but they had a peculiarly short, poundingtouch; and floundered about among the keys with a sort of boldness, andwith resolute, jerking elbows. They certainly had no tone, but theviolin was therefore heard the better; and after each performance wemight have heard, "Am I not the first teacher in Europe?" MRS. SOLID. You certainly have shown up two ridiculous figures. DOMINIE. True; but I leave it to every one to make themselvesridiculous. MRS. SOLID. I am very glad that you have furnished me here with thecriticisms of which I stand in need; for I might otherwise have been indanger of supplying you with an example at the next soirée, perhaps atthe banker's, Mr. Gold's. But, as I should like to hear your answer, Iwill listen to, and report to you, what is said in a certain though notvery numerous clique, who are opposed to you and your labors. DOMINIE. Those people would act more wisely, if they were to study mywritings; in which I will make any corrections, if there is any thingthat I can add to them, for the advantage of truth, right, and beauty. And now allow me, Miss Emily, since you are pretty well advanced, andare not quite spoiled, to show you in a few lessons how to study thesevariations by Herz (Les Trois Graces, No. 1, on a theme from "ThePirates"). They are not easy; but I will teach them in a way that shallnot weary you or give you a distaste for them. I have intentionallychosen these variations, because they do not lay claim to great musicalinterest; and, consequently, their mode of performance, their execution, gives them their chief value. Moreover, they possess the disadvantagefor teaching that they are of unequal difficulty, and require, therefore, the more skill on the part of the teacher to compensate forthis. _First Lesson. _ Miss Emily, these are very clear, graceful variations, which require an extremely nice, delicate execution; and, especially, acomplete mechanical mastery of their various difficulties. Althoughthese variations may seem to you too easy, I am governed in theselection of them by the maxim that "what one would learn to play finelymust be below the mechanical powers of the pupil. " The theme of theItalian song, which is the basis of these variations, is very wellchosen, and you must take great pains to execute it as finely aspossible, and to produce a singing effect upon the piano-forte. Afterthe piece is thoroughly learned, you will be greatly aided in theproduction of this imitation of singing by the careful and correct useof the pedal which raises the dampers. The theme does not offer greatmechanical difficulties; but it requires a loose, broad, full, and yettender touch, a good _portamento_, and a clear and delicately shadeddelivery; for you must remember that "in the performance of a simpletheme the well-taught pupil may be recognized. " EMILY. But you do not begin at the beginning: there is an introductionto the piece. DOMINIE. Perhaps we shall take that at the last: I can't tell yet when. A great many things in my instruction will seem to you misplaced: it maybe that the final result will restore to me the approval which I desire. EMILY. Do you always give such a preliminary description before youbegin a piece with a pupil? DOMINIE. I like to do so; for I wish to create an interest in the piece, and to state in connection my principles and views about music andpiano-playing. Now we will try the theme, first quite slowly; and thenthe first easy variation, with the last bars at the end of it, whichintroduce the theme once more, and which should be played very clearlyand smoothly. We will then take from the introduction only the righthand, and study the most appropriate fingering for it. I never writethis out fully; but only intimate it here and there, in order not tointerfere with the spontaneous activity of the learner. We will alsotake a few portions for the left hand from the finale. In these you mustcarefully observe the directions which are given for its performance, and try to execute every thing correctly and clearly; for a carelessbass is prejudicial to the very best playing in the treble. My lesson is now at an end; for we have taken up a good deal of time atthe beginning with the scales, and passing the thumb under correctly, with the different species of touch, and the appropriate exercises forthese. I do not wish you yet to practise the first variation with bothhands together, for you do not yet strike the skipping bass evenlyenough and with sufficient precision; and you might accustom yourself toinaccuracies, especially as your left hand has, as usual, beenneglected, and is inferior to the right in lightness and rapidity. Weshall find this a hindrance; for the object is not to practise much, butto practise correctly. Therefore play these passages first slowly, thenquicker, at last very fast; then slow again, sometimes _staccato_, sometimes _legato_, _piano_, and also moderately loud; but never whenthe hands and fingers are fatigued, therefore not too continuously; butmany times in the course of the day, and always with fresh energy. Atpresent, you need not play _fortissimo_, or with the pedal: for in thatway you might be led into a tramping style, with a weak, stiff touch, and a habit of striking at the keys with straight fingers; and that I donot like. We will look for the true and the beautiful in a verydifferent treatment of the piano; and, first of all, in a clear, unaffected, healthy performance, free from any forced character. _Second Lesson. _ Transposition of the triads and dominant chord in theirthree positions, and in various kinds of measure; and practice of these, with careful attention to a correct touch and loose wrist; cadences onthe dominant and sub-dominant; practice of the skipping bass in thetheme, and in the first and third variations, with practice in strikingand leaving the chords, observing carefully the precise value of thenotes. You must attend also to striking them not too forcibly or toofeebly, and take special care with regard to the fourth and fifthfingers, which do not easily give the tone with so full a sound as theother three fingers. Now we will try the theme with both hands together, and consider the correct expression, and likewise the _piano_ and_forte_, as well as the nicest _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. We willthen take the first easy variation, of which you have already acquired amastery: we will play it exactly _a tempo_ and with the bass chords, which should usually be given _staccato_, and which must be played withdelicacy and flexibility; but it will be well for you to practise firstthe bass part once alone, in order that you may hear whether all thetones sound evenly. Now the first variation will go pretty well withboth hands together; with increasing mastery of it, the requisiteshading in the right hand can be produced. As your right hand is not yettired, play to me now several times, first slowly and then faster, thepassages which I gave you from the introduction. When the right handbecomes a little fatigued, take a portion from the finale for the lefthand. You may also try over the adagio; but I recommend for your specialpractice the part for the right hand in the third variation. You cannotmake a mistake about it, if you do not try to play it too fast, and ifyou carefully observe the fingering indicated. Now I will play the themeto you, as nearly as possible as I heard the famous tenor Rubini singit. You see I place the fingers gently upon the keys and avoid raisingthem too high, in order not to injure the nice connection of the tones, and to produce a singing tone as far as possible. At the end of thelesson you will play the theme to me once more. .. . I perceive you playit with too much embarrassment, and not freely enough. It will go stillbetter two days hence, if you play it frequently during that time, slowly, and become quite accustomed to it. In addition, you willpractise industriously every thing which we have gone through, especially the first variation; but you must always do it with interest, and never with weariness. Of course you will practise _without notes_all the little exercises for the touch, and for the fourth and fifthfingers, and the cadences. _Third Lesson. _ Other little exercises; trills, scales with shading forone hand alone and for both together; the skipping basses, &c. We willbegin to-day with the bass part of the second variation. You observethat often there are even eighth notes in the treble, while in the bassthere are even triplet eighth notes. In order to play these properlytogether, even with only mechanical correctness, it is necessary thatthe left hand shall acquire a perfectly free and independent movement, and shall bring out the bass with perfect ease. You must pay specialattention to any weak notes, and accustom yourself not to give the lasttriplet, in each bar, and the last note of this triplet, too hurriedly, too sharply, or with too little tone. Notice how much difficulty thisequal playing of the triplets occasions to the right hand, which movesin even eighth notes. While you play the left hand, I will play theright: you must listen as little as possible to my playing, and preserveyour own independence. You must learn to play this variation entirely byyourself with both hands together; but we must not be too much in ahurry about it, and must give time to it. All restless urging, allhurry, leads to inaccuracies in playing. You have learned enough forto-day; but you may play the other variations, with the whole finale, straight through, that you may not get into the habit of stopping at thedifficult passages which you have already learned. _Fourth Lesson. _ New exercises for striking stretches, and for theextension of the hand and fingers; but this must be done prudently, that the sound touch, which is always of the first importance, shall notbe endangered. Besides this, the repetition of the exercises learned inthe preceding lessons; but all to be played with a certain shading anddelicacy. We will to-day begin at the beginning, with the introduction. I will now make amends for my want of regularity, and show you that Ican begin at the beginning, like other people; but all in good time. To-day, in those portions of which you have acquired a mastery, we willgive particular attention to the expression, and to the correct use ofthe pedal. If what I suggest to you with regard to the shading at anyplace does not entirely correspond to your understanding of the piece, or to your feeling, you must at once express your difference of opinion, and ask me for the reason of my view. You, perhaps, do not like to playthis place _crescendo_, but _diminuendo_. Very well; only play it finelyin your own way; it will also sound very well so. I proposed the_crescendo_ there, because the feeling grows more intense; perhaps, inthe next lesson, you will acknowledge that I was right. This place Ishould play a very little slower, though without a striking_ritardando_; then a little faster here; do you think it ought to beplayed _crescendo_ or _diminuendo_? We must try in this variation topresent nicely shaded little pictures. Here you might use more energyand decision. This place you should play merely with a correctmechanical execution, but without special expression; for we requireshadow, in order that the succeeding idea, eminently suggestive of thetheme, shall be brought out with more brilliancy. In general, the wholemust be made to sound natural, without musical pretension, and as if itwere the production of the moment; and should not create a distorted, overdrawn effect, or exhibit modern affectation. Each piece that I undertake to teach you will give me an opportunity totalk to you a great deal about the correct expression in playing, andabout its innumerable beauties, shades, and delicacies; while I shallpay constant attention to the production of a beautiful singing tone. The next piece will be Chopin's Notturno in E flat; for your touch hasalready gained in fulness, and is now unobjectionable. This is the tyranny with regard to correct execution, which stupidityand folly have taxed me with having exercised towards my daughters. "Expression must come of itself!" How cheap is this lazy subterfuge ofthe followers of routine, and of teachers wanting in talent! We see andhear a great many _virtuosos_, old and young, with and without talent, renowned and obscure. They either play in an entirely mechanical mannerand with faulty and miserable touch, or else, which is less bearable, they strut with unendurable affectation and produce musicalmonstrosities. In order to conceal their indistinct mode of execution, they throw themselves upon the two pedals, and are guilty ofinconceivable perversions. But let us proceed with your instruction. You already play your pieceintelligently, with interest and enthusiasm, and without any of themodern, empty affectations. If any other passage should occur to you atthe _fermata_ in the second part, which shall lead appropriately to thedominant, try it; and combine it, perhaps, with that which is written. You may make two passing shakes upon the four final sixteenth notes; butyou must play them very distinctly and clearly, and the last one weakerthan the first, in order to give it a delicate effect, as is done bysingers. With light variations of this kind, it is allowable tointroduce various ornaments, provided they are in good taste and nicelyexecuted. The case is quite different in the performance of thecompositions of Beethoven, Mozart, Weber, and others, where reverencefor the composer requires a stricter interpretation, although even thisis sometimes carried to a point of exaggeration and pedantry. Now trythe first variation once more. That is better: you already play theskipping bass with more precision, more briskly and evenly. We begin toperceive the correct speaking tone in the bass, and a certain delicacyand freedom in the treble. You need not play both hands together in thesecond variation, which is the most difficult, until the next lesson. To-day you may first play the bass alone, while I play the treble; andafterwards we will change parts, and you can play the treble while Iplay the bass. But we will not go farther than the fourth variation. Ihave not much more to say about this piece. We will begin next abeautiful Etude by Moscheles, which I recommend highly to you, in orderto strengthen and give facility to the fourth and fifth fingers: thismay be your companion and friend during the next two or three months. MRS. SOLID. Your very careful mode of instruction assures me that Emilywill acquire a mastery of these variations, and will learn to performthem finely. DOMINIE. She will be able, after a week or two, to execute this piecewith understanding and confidence, and to play it to her ownsatisfaction and that of others; while her awakened consciousness of itsbeauties and of her ability to interpret it will preserve her interestfor it. The objection is quite untenable "that children lose their pleasure in apiece, if they are obliged to practise it until they know it. " Do peoplesuppose that it gives more pleasure, when the teacher begins in astupid, helpless way, and tries to make the pupil swallow several piecesat once, while he continually finds fault and worries them, than whenthe pupil is enabled to play a few short, well-sounding exercises, withperfect freedom and correctness, and to take delight in his success? orwhen afterwards, or perhaps at the same time, he is conscious that hecan play one piece nicely and without bungling, while it is allaccomplished in a quiet and pleasant manner? MRS. SOLID. Do you pursue the same course with longer and more difficultpieces? DOMINIE. Certainly, on the same principle. MRS. SOLID. But, if you are so particular about every piece, and alwaystake so much pains to improve the touch, it will be a long time beforeEmily will be able to execute several long pieces and can learn othernew ones beside. DOMINIE. Do you wish your daughter to learn to jingle on the piano, inorder to become musical? or shall she grow more musical by learning toplay finely? I am sure the latter is your wish, as it is mine:otherwise, you would be contented with an ordinary teacher. You mustconsider that, when she has made a beginning, by learning to play onepiece thoroughly and quite correctly, the following pieces will belearned more and more quickly; for she will have acquired a dexterity inplaying, as you may observe with yourself and with every one. To be ableto drum off fifty pieces in an imperfect manner does not justify theexpectation that the fifty-first piece will be learned more easily orbetter; but to attain a perfect mastery of four or five pieces gives astandard for the rest. In this way, and by mechanical studies, such as I have begun with Emily, the greatest ease in reading at sight is gradually developed, in whichall my pupils excel, when they have remained long enough under myinstruction, and in which my daughters are pre-eminent. But for this itis necessary to continue to study single pieces, industriously andartistically, and with great exactness; for otherwise the practice ofreading at sight, which often amounts to a passion, leads very soon toslovenliness in piano-playing and to more or less vulgar machine-music. MRS. SOLID. I am more and more convinced that a style of instructionwhich is illogical, intermittent, superficial, and without method, canlead to no good result, or at least to nothing satisfactory, even withextraordinary talents; and that the unsound and eccentric manifestationsand caricatures of art, which cause the present false and deplorablecondition of piano-playing, are the consequence of such a prevalent modeof instruction. CHAPTER V. ON THE PEDAL. I have just returned exhausted and annihilated from a concert, where Ihave been hearing the piano pounded. Two grand bravoura movements havebeen thundered off, with the pedal continually raised; and then weresuddenly succeeded by a soft murmuring passage, during which thethirteen convulsed and quivering bass notes of the _fortissimo_ were allthe time resounding. It was only by the aid of the concert programmethat my tortured ears could arrive at the conclusion that this confusionof tones was meant to represent two pieces by Döhler and Thalberg. Cruel fate that invented the pedal! I mean the pedal which raises thedampers on the piano. A grand acquisition, indeed, for modern times!Good heavens! Our piano performers must have lost their sense ofhearing! What is all this growling and buzzing? Alas, it is only thegroaning of the wretched piano-forte, upon which one of the modern_virtuosos_, with a heavy beard and long hanging locks, whose hearinghas deserted him, is blustering away on a bravoura piece, with the pedalincessantly raised, --with inward satisfaction and vain self-assertion!Truly time brings into use a great deal that is far from beautiful:does, then, this raging piano revolutionist think it beautiful to bringthe pedal into use at every bar? Unhappy delusion. But enough of this serious jesting. Hummel never used the pedal. He wasan extremist; and, in his graceful, clear, elegant, neat, though notgrand playing, often lost fine effects, which would have been producedby the correct and judicious use of the pedal; particularly on theinstruments of Stein, Brodmann, Conrad Graff, and others then in use, which were usually lightly leathered, and had a thin, sharp tone. Theuse of the pedal, of course always allowing it to fall frequently withprecision, was especially desirable in the upper treble, in cases wherethe changes of the harmony were not very frequent; for the tone of thoseinstruments, although sweet and agreeable, had not much depth, and theaction had but little strength and elasticity. But on our instruments, frequently too softly leathered, which have a full tone, and are sostrong and penetrating, especially in the bass, it is enough to endangerone's sense of hearing to be subjected to such a senseless, incessant, ridiculous, deafening use of the pedal; frequently, moreover, combinedwith a hard, stiff touch, and an unsound, incorrect technique. A musicalinterpretation in any degree tolerable is out of the question. Youcannot call that art, it cannot even be called manual labor: it is afreak of insanity! A few words to the better sort of players. The foot-piece to the righton the piano-forte raises the dampers, and in that way makes the tonesresound and sing, and takes from them the dryness, shortness, and wantof fulness, which is always the objection to the piano-forte, especiallyto those of the earlier construction. This is certainly an advantage;the more the tone of the piano-forte resembles singing, the morebeautiful it is. But, in order not to injure the distinctness anddetract from the clear phrasing of the performance, a very skilful andprudent use of the pedal is necessary in rapid changes of harmony, particularly in the middle and lower portion of the instrument. You all use the pedal too much and too often, especially on large, fineconcert pianos of the new construction, which, with their heavystringing, have in themselves a fuller, more vibrating tone; at leastyou do not let it fall frequently enough, and with precision. You mustlisten to what you are playing. You do not play for yourselves alone;frequently you play to hearers who are listening for the first time tothe pieces you are performing. Try a few passages without pedal, --forinstance, those in which the changes of the harmony succeed each otherrapidly, even in the highest treble, --and see what repose, what sereneenjoyment, what refreshment is afforded, what delicate shading isbrought out. Or at first listen, and try to feel it in the playing ofothers; for your habit is so deeply rooted that you no longer know whenand how often you use the pedal. Chopin, that highly gifted, elegant, sensitive composer and performer, may serve as a model for you here. Hiswidely dispersed, artistic harmonies, with the boldest and most strikingsuspensions, for which the fundamental bass is essential, certainlyrequire the frequent use of the pedal for fine harmonic effect. But, ifyou examine and observe the minute, critical directions in hiscompositions, you can obtain from him complete instruction for the niceand correct use of the pedal. By way of episode to my sorrowful lecture on the pedal, we will take awalk through the streets some beautiful evening. What is it that we hearin almost every house? Unquestionably it is piano-playing; but whatplaying! It is generally nothing but a continual confusion of differentchords, without close, without pause; slovenly passages, screened by theraised pedal; varied by an empty, stiff, weak touch, relying upon thepedal for weight. We will escape into the next street. Oh, horrors! whata thundering on this piano, which, by the way, is sadly out of tune! Itis a grand--that is, a long, heavy--étude, with the most involvedpassages, and a peculiar style of composition, probably with the title"On the Ocean, " or "In Hades, " or "Fancies of the Insane;" pounded offwith the pedal raised through the most marvellous changes of harmonies. Finally, the strings snap, the pedal creaks and moans; conclusion, --_c_, _c_ sharp, _d_, _d_ sharp resound together through a few exhausted bars, and at last die away in the warm, soft, delicious air. Universalapplause from the open windows! But who is the frantic musician who isventing his rage or this piano? It is a Parisian or other travellingcomposer, lately arrived with letters of recommendation, who has justbeen giving a little rehearsal of what we may expect to hear shortly ina concert at the "Hôtel de Schmerz. " CHAPTER VI. THE SOFT-PEDAL SENTIMENT. You exclaim: "What is that?--a sentiment for the soft pedal! a sentimentof any kind in our times! most of all, a musical sentiment! I have notheard of such a thing in a concert-room for a long time!" When the foot-piece to the left on the piano is pressed down, thekey-board is thereby moved to the right; so that, in playing, thehammers strike only two of the three strings, in some pianos only one. In that way the tone is made weaker, thinner, but more singing and moretender. What follows from this? Many performers, seized with a pianomadness, play a grand bravoura piece, excite themselves fearfully, clatter up and down through seven octaves of runs, with the pedalconstantly raised, --bang away, put the best piano out of tune in thefirst twenty bars, --snap the strings, knock the hammers off theirbearings, perspire, stroke the hair out of their eyes, ogle theaudience, and make love to themselves. Suddenly they are seized with asentiment! They come to a _piano_ or _pianissimo_, and, no longercontent with one pedal, they take the soft pedal while the loud pedal isstill resounding. Oh, what languishing! what soft murmuring, and what asweet tinkling of bells! what tenderness of feeling! what a soft-pedalsentiment! The ladies fall into tears, enraptured by the pale, long-haired young artist. I describe here the period of piano mania, which has just passed itscrisis; a period which it is necessary to have lived through, in orderto believe in the possibility of such follies. When, in the beginning ofthis century, the piano attained such conspicuous excellence andincreased power, greater technical skill could not fail to be calledout; but, after a few years, this degenerated into a heartless andworthless dexterity of the fingers, which was carried to the point ofabsurdity and resulted in intellectual death. Instead of aiming toacquire, before all things, a beautiful, full tone on theserich-sounding instruments, which admit of so much and such delicateshading, essential to true excellence of performance, the object wasonly to increase mechanical facility, and to cultivate almostexclusively an immoderately powerful and unnatural touch, and to improvethe fingering in order to make possible the execution of passages, roulades, finger-gymnastics, and stretches, which no one before hadimagined or considered necessary. From this period dates theintroduction of _virtuoso_ performances with their glitteringtawdriness, without substance and without music, and of the frightfuleccentricities in art, accompanied by immeasurable vanity andself-conceit, --the age of "finger-heroes. " It is indeed a melancholyreflection, for all who retain their senses, that this charlatanry ismade the solitary aim of numberless ignoble performers, sustained by theapplause of teachers and composers equally base. It is sad to see how, engaged in artificial formalisms and in erroneous mechanical studies, players have forgotten the study of tone and of correct delivery, andthat few teachers seek to improve either themselves or their pupilstherein. Otherwise they would see and understand that, on a good piano, such as are now to be found almost everywhere, it is possible withcorrect playing, founded on a right method, to play, without externalaids, _forte_, _fortissimo_, _piano_, _pianissimo_, --in a word, withevery degree of shading, and with at least formal expression; and thatthis style of playing, with the requisite mechanical skill, sounds farmore pure, and is more satisfactory than when a feeling is affectedthrough the crude, unskilful, and absurd use of the pedal, especially ofthe soft pedal of which we are now speaking. This affectation only givesone more proof of our unhealthy, stupid, and unmusical infancy in pianoperformances. A good-natured public, drummed up and brought together bypatient persuasion and by urgent recommendations, of which _virtuosos_can obtain an abundance (for the tormented cities which they havevisited cannot otherwise get rid of them), attend these concerts andlisten to dozens of such inexperienced piano-players. One plays exactlylike another, with more or less faulty mechanical execution; and none ofthem are able, with all their thumping and caressing of the keys, tobring out from the instrument a broad, healthy, full, and beautifultone, delicately shaded and distinct even to the softest _pp. _ But, instead of this, they fall into a pedal sentiment; _i. E. _, they playwith outside pretension, and with intrinsic emptiness. You unworthy performers, who have so disgusted the artistic public withpiano-playing that they will no longer listen to fine, intelligent, sensible artists, whose dignity does not permit them to forcethemselves into the concert-hall, or to drag people into it from thestreets! you base mortals, who have exposed this beautiful art to shame!I implore you to abandon the concert platform, your battle-field! Hackat the piano no longer! Find positions on a railroad or in a factory. There you may perhaps make yourselves useful; while by the lessons yougive (for it usually comes to that, after you have travelled all overthe world) you will only ruin our young people, now growing up withpromising talent for piano-playing, and will produce successors likeyourselves, but not artists. I must whisper one thing more in your ear. I will say nothing aboutsimple truthfulness, about tenderness and sincerity of feeling, orwholesome refinement, about poetry, inspiration, or truly impassionedplaying. But, if your ears are not already too much blunted, you shouldbe able to discover, at least in a very few minutes, on any instrument, unless it is of the worst sort, or has already been battered to piecesby you, how far you can carry the _pianissimo_ and _fortissimo_, andstill preserve the tone within the limits of beauty and simplicity. Youwill thus be able to interpret a piece with at least superficialcorrectness, without mortally wounding a cultivated ear by exaggerationsand by maltreatment of the instrument and its two pedals. This style of playing has nevertheless found its numerous defenders andadmirers in our century, which has made every thing possible. Thissenseless enslavement and abuse of the piano has been said to be "allthe rage;" a fine expression of our piano critics to justify insanestamping and soft-pedal sentimentality. How far what I have here said relates to our modern errors in singing, and how far it may be applied to them, I leave to the intelligence of myreaders and to my explanations in subsequent chapters. To return to my theme: I have still one word on this subject forrational players. Even they use the soft pedal too much and too often, and at unsuitable places; for instance, in the midst of a piece, withoutany preparatory pause; in melodies which require to be lightly executed;or in rapid passages which are to be played _piano_. This is especiallyto be noticed with players who are obliged to use instruments of apowerful tone and stiff, heavy action, on which it is difficult toinsure a delicate shading in _piano_ and _forte_. For this reason, asensible and experienced teacher, whose sole aim is the true and thebeautiful, should make the attainment of an elastic touch andwell-grounded style of playing an indispensable requirement. I preferthat the soft pedal should be used but seldom, and, if the pedal whichraises the dampers is used at the same time, it must be only with thegreatest nicety. The soft pedal may be used in an echo; but should bepreceded by a slight pause, and then should be employed throughout theperiod, because the ear must accustom itself gradually to this tender, maidenly, sentimental tone. There must again be a slight pause beforethe transition to the usual more masculine tone, with the three strings. The soft pedal is, moreover, most effective in slow movements with fullchords, which allow time to bring out the singing tone, in whichconsists the advantage of the stroke of the hammers on two stringsalone. CHAPTER VII. A MUSICAL TEA-PARTY AT THE HOUSE OF JOHN SPRIGGINS. I once more introduce my readers to the scenes of my active, musicallife, with an invitation to accompany me to a musical tea-party. Myobject is, in a short and entertaining manner, to remove very commonprejudices; to correct mistaken ideas; to reprove the followers of mereroutine; to oppose to malicious cavilling the sound opinions of anexperienced teacher; to scourge dogmatic narrow-mindedness; and in thisway to advance my method of instruction. * * * * * DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. JOHN SPRIGGINS _(jovial and narrow-minded, a member ofan ancient musical family). _MRS. SPRIGGINS _(irritable, envious, and malicious). _LIZZIE, _their daughter, 13, years old (lively and pert). _SHEPARD, _her piano-teacher (very laborious). _DOMINIE, _a piano-master (very stern). _EMMA, _his daughter, a pianist (silent and musical). _ MRS. SPRIGGINS (_to Dominie_). So this is your daughter who is to give aconcert to-morrow? She is said to have less talent than your eldestdaughter. With her, they say, nothing requires any labor. DOMINIE. You must ask my eldest daughter herself about that. I havehitherto held the opinion that both of them played correctly, musically, and perhaps finely, and yet both differently: that is the triumph of amusical education. But this cheap comparative criticism is already toothoroughly worn out. Pray what else have you on your mind? MRS. S. Have you not yet sent your younger daughter to school? They sayyour eldest could neither read nor write at fourteen years of age. DOMINIE. My daughters always have a private teacher in the house, inconnection with whom I instruct them in music, in order that theirliterary education shall occupy fewer hours, and that they shall havetime left for exercise in the open air to invigorate the body; whileother children are exhausted with nine hours a day at schools andinstitutes, and are obliged to pay for this with the loss of theirhealth and the joyousness of youth. MRS. S. It is very well known that your daughters are obliged to playthe whole day long. DOMINIE. And not all night too? You probably might explain their skillin that way. I am astonished that you have not heard that too, sinceyou have picked up so many shocking stories about me and my daughters. MRS. S. (_dismisses the subject, and asks suddenly_). Now just how oldis your daughter Emma? DOMINIE. She is just sixteen years and seven weeks old. MRS. S. Does she speak French? DOMINIE. Oui, elle parle Français, and in musical tones, too, --alanguage which is understood all over the world. MRS. S. But she is so silent! Does she like to play? DOMINIE. You have given her no opportunity to speak, she is certainlynot forth-putting. For the last two years she has taken great pleasurein playing. MRS. S. You acknowledge, then, that formerly you had to force her to it? DOMINIE. In the earlier years of her natural development, as she was astranger to vanity and other unworthy motives, she certainly played, orrather pursued her serious studies, chiefly from obedience and habit. Does your daughter of thirteen years old always practise her exerciseswithout being required to do so? Does she like to go to school everyday? Does she always sew and knit without being reminded of it? MRS. S. (_interrupting_). Oh, I see you are quite in love with yourdaughters! But they say you are terribly strict and cruel in the musicaleducation of your children; and, in fact, always. DOMINIE. Do you suppose I do this from affection? or do you infer it, because they have proved artists, or because they look so blooming andhealthy, or because they write such fine letters, or because they havenot grown crooked over embroidery, or because they are so innocent, unaffected, and modest? or-- MRS. S. (_irritably_). We will drop that subject. But I must give youone piece of good advice. Do not make your daughter Emma exert herselftoo much, as you have done with your eldest daughter. DOMINIE. If that is so, Mrs. Spriggins, it seems to have agreed with hervery well. MRS. S. (_vehemently_). But she would have been better-- DOMINIE. If she had not played at all? That I can't tell exactly, as Isaid yesterday. Well, you are satisfied now with Emma's state of health? MRS. S. It is of no use to advise such people as you. DOMINIE. I have always devoted myself to my business as a teacher, andhave daily taken counsel with myself about the education of mydaughters, and of other pupils whom I have formed for artists; and, itmust be acknowledged, I have done so with some ability. MRS. S. (_not attending to him, but turning to Emma_). But does it notmake your fingers ache to play such difficult music? DOMINIE. Only when her teacher raps her on the knuckles, and that Inever do. (_Emma looks at the parrot which is hanging in the parlor, and strokes the great bull-dog. _) JOHN SPRIGGINS (_entering with his daughter Lizzie_). Herr Dominie, willyou be so good as to hear our daughter Lizzie play, and advise uswhether to continue in the same course. Music is, in fact, hereditary inour family. My wife played a little, too, in her youth, and I onceplayed on the violin; but my teacher told me I had no talent for it, noear, and no idea of time, and that I scraped too much. DOMINIE. Very curious! He must have been mistaken! JOHN S. But I always was devotedly fond of music. My father and mygrandfather, on our estate, often used to play the organ for theorganist in church, and the tenants always knew when they were playing. My father used often to tell that story at table. Ha, ha! It was verydroll! DOMINIE. Curious! JOHN S. Well, to return to my violin. I gave it up after a year, becauseit seemed rather scratchy to me, too. DOMINIE. Curious! Probably your ear and your taste had become morecultivated. JOHN S. Afterwards, when I accepted an office, my wife said to me, "Mydear, what a pity it is about your violin. " So I had it restrung, andtook a teacher. It seems as if it were only yesterday. DOMINIE (_casting down his eyes, --the servant brings ice_). That was verycurious! JOHN S. But the government horn-player thought he could not get on induets with me. DOMINIE. Curious! So you were obliged to play only solos? But to returnto your daughter. Will you be good enough to play me something, MissLizzie? MRS. S. (_condescendingly, in a low voice_). She is a little timid andembarrassed at playing before your daughter Emma. EMMA. You really need not be so. MRS. S. Bring "Les Graces" by Herz, and Rosellen's "Tremolo. " LIZZIE. But, mamma, I have forgotten that piece by Herz, and I have notlearned the "Tremolo" very well yet. That is always the way with me. Mr. Shepard says I may console myself: it was always the same with his otherscholars. He says I shall finally make my way. But Mr. Shepard is sostrict. Are you very strict, Herr Dominie? MRS. S. Why, my child, you have heard me say so before. Herr Dominie isthe very strictest--but (_playfully_) he will not acknowledge it. DOMINIE. There is one thing you must allow, Mrs. Spriggins, --that mypupils always take pleasure in my lessons; and that must be the casebecause their progress is evident and gives them delight, and everything is developed in the most natural way. MRS. S. (_less sharply_). We won't discuss that; but how are yourdaughters able to play so many pieces to people, and moreover withoutnotes, if they have not been obliged to practise all day long, and ifyou have not been very cruel with them, while my Lizzie cannot play asingle thing without bungling? DOMINIE. Allow me, madam, it must be the fault of Mr. Shep-- MRS. S. No, no! you must excuse me, but we don't permit any reflectionson our Mr. Shepard: he is very particular and unwearied. DOMINIE. It does not depend entirely upon that, but-- JOHN S. Upon my honor, it is marvellous to see how talented pupilsalways seem to flock to _you_. It is easy to teach such! Ha, ha! Youmust not forget, however, that my grandfather played on the organ. Now, Lizzie, sit down and play something. (_She chooses a cavatina from "The Pirates, " with variations. The introduction begins with _e_ flat in unison. Lizzie strikes _e_ in unison and the same in the bass, and exclaims: "There, mamma, didn't I tell you so? I don't remember it now. " Mr. Shepard enters, steps up hastily, and puts her finger on _e_ flat. _) SHEPARD. Pardon me, Herr Dominie, I will only set her going: it makesher a little confused to play before such connoisseurs; she loses hereyesight. Don't you see, Lizzie, there are three flats in the signature? JOHN S. Courage now! Aha! Lizzie can't get at the pedal, the bull-dogis lying over it. John, take him out. (_After the removal of the bull-dog, Lizzie plays as far as the fourth bar, when she strikes _c_ sharp instead of _c_, and stops. _) MRS. S. Never mind, begin again. Herr Dominie is pleased to hear that:he has gone through it all with his own children. (_Lizzie begins again at the beginning, and goes on to the eighth bar, where she sticks fast. _) SHEPARD. Don't make me ashamed of you, Lizzie. Now begin once more: aweek ago it went quite tolerably. (_Lizzie begins once more, and plays or rather scrambles through it, as far as the eighteenth bar; but now it is all over with her, and she gets up. _) DOMINIE. Skip the introduction, it is too difficult: begin at once onthe theme. JOHN S. (_to his wife_). We will go away and leave the gentlemen alone. By and by, gentlemen, we will talk about it further over a cup of tea. (_Lizzie refuses to play. _) DOMINIE. Mr. Shepard, let Lizzie play a few scales or some chords; a fewfinger exercises, or some easy dance without notes. SHEPARD. She has nothing of that kind ready. You see I always take upone piece after another, and have each one played as well as I can; sherepeats the difficult parts, I write the proper fingering over them, andam very particular that she does not use the wrong fingers. I have takena great deal of pains, and quite worn myself out over the lessons. Lizzie does the same, and practises her pieces two hours a day;but--but-- (_Lizzie goes away with Emma. _) DOMINIE. Mr. Shepard, with the best intentions in the world, you willnever accomplish your end. Even if Miss Lizzie is only to play as anamateur, and is not intended for any thing higher, for which in fact shehas not sufficient talent, you must pay some attention beforehand to theacquirement of a correct tone, and get rid of this robin-red-breasttouch; and you must then endeavor, by scales and exercises of everykind, to give to her hands and fingers so much firmness, decision, anddexterity, that she can master her pieces, at least with a certaindistinct tone and a tolerable touch. You are not less in error in thechoice of her pieces, which are far too difficult, --a fault of mostteachers, even with the most skilful pupils. The pieces which yourpupils are to execute should be below their mechanical powers; for, otherwise, the struggle with difficulties robs the player of allconfidence in the performance, and gives rise to stumbling, bungling, and hurry. The mechanical powers should be cultivated by studies andexercises, in preference to pieces, at least to those of certain famouscomposers, who do not write in a manner adapted to the piano; or who, atany rate, regard the music as of more importance than the player. Thismay apply even to Beethoven, in the higher grade of composition; for hismusic is full of danger for the performer. The only course which canever lead to a sure result, without wearying both pupil and parent, andwithout making piano-playing distasteful, is first to lay a foundationin mechanical power, and then to go on with the easier pieces by Hüntenand Burgmüller. If you try to produce the mechanical dexterity essentialfor piano performance by the study of pieces, except with the mostcareful selection, you will waste a great deal of time and deprive thepupil of all pleasure and interest; and the young Lizzie will be muchmore interested in the hope of a husband than in the satisfaction ofperforming a piece which will give pleasure to herself and her friends. There can be no success without gradual development and culture, withouta plan, without consideration and reflection, --in fact, without aproper method. How can there be any good result, if the pupil has to tryat the same time to play with a correct touch, with the properfingering, in time, with proper phrasing, to move the fingers rightly, to gain familiarity with the notes, and to avoid the confusion betweenthe treble and the bass notes, --and in fact has to struggle with everything at once? And what vexations! what loss of time without success! (_Shepard listened with attention, and a light seemed to dawn upon him. _) (_Dominie and Shepard go in to tea. _) MRS. S. Well, gentlemen, have you come to any conclusion? Is not Lizziea good pupil? She is obliged to practise two hours every day, howevertired she may be. Do you think we should continue in the same course, Herr Dominie? SHEPARD. Herr Dominie has called my attention to some points which willbe of use to me. DOMINIE. Only a few trifles. JOHN S. After tea will not Miss Emma play to us? EMMA. The piano is very much out of tune, some of the keys stick, theaction is too light, and the instrument generally is not calculated forthe successful execution of any thing. JOHN S. I beg your pardon: it was considered by everybody a very fineinstrument when we bought it, sixteen years ago. We had a great bargainin it at the time, for we purchased it of a neighbor who had improved itvery much by use. Mr. Shepard will confirm what I say, Miss. (_Emma bows her head thoughtfully, and looks at Shepard suspiciously. _) JOHN S. My violin has very much improved during the last twenty years. On my honor, if Lizzie were a boy, she should learn to play on theviolin, to keep it in the family. Ha, ha, ha! DOMINIE. That would be curious! (_Dominie wishes to take leave with his daughter. _) MRS. S. (_condescendingly_). I hope you will come to see us again soon. The next time Lizzie will play you Rosellen's "Tremolo;" and Miss Emmamust play us a piece too. DOMINIE. You are extremely kind! (_Takes leave. _) CHAPTER VIII. SINGING AND SINGING-TEACHERS. _(A Letter to a Young Lady Singer. )_ MY DEAR MISS ----, --You are endowed with an admirable gift for singing, and your agreeable though not naturally powerful voice has vivacity andyouthful charm, as well as a fine tone: you also possess much talent inexecution; yet you nevertheless share the lot of almost all your sistersin art, who, whether in Vienna, Paris, or Italy, find only teachers whoare rapidly helping to annihilate the opera throughout Europe, and areruling out of court the simple, noble, refined, and true art of singing. This modern, unnatural style of art, which merely aspires to superficialeffects, and consists only in mannerisms, and which must ruin the voicein a short time, before it reaches its highest perfection, has alreadylaid claim to you. It is scarcely possible to rescue your talent, unless, convinced that you have been falsely guided, you stop entirelyfor a time, and allow your voice to rest during several months, andthen, by correct artistic studies, and with a voice never forced orstrong, often indeed weak, you improve your method of attack by the useof much less and never audible breathing, and acquire a correct, quietguidance of the tones. You must also make use of the voice in the middleregister, and strengthen the good head-tones by skilfully lowering them;you must equalize the registers of the voice by a correct and varied useof the head-tones, and by diligent practice of _solfeggio_. You mustrestore the unnaturally extended registers to their proper limits; andyou have still other points to reform. Are you not aware that thisfrequent tremulousness of the voice, this immoderate forcing of itscompass, by which the chest-register is made to interfere with thehead-tones, this coquetting with the deep chest-tones, this affected, offensive, and almost inaudible nasal _pianissimo_, the aimless jerkingout of single tones, and, in general, this whole false mode of vocalexecution, must continually shock the natural sentiment of a cultivated, unprejudiced hearer, as well as of the composer and singing-teacher?What must be the effect on a voice in the middle register, when itsextreme limits are forced in such a reckless manner, and when you expendas much breath for a few lines of a song as a correctly educated singerwould require for a whole aria? How long will it be before your voice, already weakened, and almost always forced beyond the limits of beauty, shall degenerate into a hollow, dull, guttural tone, and even into thatexplosive or tremulous sound, which proclaims irremediable injury? Isyour beautiful voice and your talent to disappear like a meteor, asothers have done? or do you hope that the soft air of Italy will in timerestore a voice once ruined? I fall into a rage when I think of the manybeautiful voices which have been spoiled, and have dwindled away withoutleaving a trace during the last forty years; and I vent my overflowingheart in a brief notice of the many singing-teachers, whose rise andinfluence I have watched for twenty years past. The so-called singing-teachers whom we usually find, even in largecities and in musical institutions, I exempt from any special criticism, for they would not be able to understand my views. They permit sopranovoices to sing scales in all the five vowels at once; begin with _c_instead of _f_; allow a long holding of the notes, "in order to bringout the voice, " until the poor victim rolls her eyes and grows dizzy. They talk only of the fine chest-tones which must be elicited, will havenothing to do with the head-tones, will not even listen to them, recognize them, or learn to distinguish them. Their highest principleis: "Fudge! we don't want any rubbish of Teschner, Miksch, and Wieck. Sing in your own plain way: what is the use of this murmuring withouttaking breath? For what do you have lungs if you are not to use them?Come, try this aria: 'Grâce, ' 'grâce!' Produce an effect! Down on yourknees!" There are again others who allow screaming, --"the more the better, "--inorder to produce power and expression in the voice, and to make itserviceable for public performances. They may, indeed, require thesinging of _solfeggio_, and prattle about the requisite equality of thetones; and they consequently make the pupil practise diligently andstrongly on the two-lined _a_, _b_ flat, _b_, where kind Nature does notat first place the voice, because she has reserved for herself the slowand careful development of it. As for the unfortunate gasping mediumvoices, which are still less docile, and which sigh in the throat, andafter all can only speak, such teachers postpone the cultivation ofthese to the future, or else they exclaim in a satisfied way, "Now wewill sing at sight! Hit the notes! Let us have classical music!" Ofthese, also, I forbear to speak. And as for the singing-teachers, whose business it is to educate thevoice for "the opera of the future, " I am really unable to write aboutthem. In the first place, I know nothing about "the future, " the unborn;and, in the second place, I have more than enough to do with thepresent. And now I come to those who honestly wish to teach better, and who in ameasure do so. But even they are too pedantic: with prejudiced views, they pursue one-sided aims. Without looking around to the right or tothe left or forwards, and without daily learning, reflecting, andstriving, they run in a groove, always ride their particular hobby, cutevery thing after one pattern, and use up the time in secondary matters, in incredible trifles. For the formation of a fine tone, not a minuteshould be lost, particularly with lady singers, who are not strong, andusually cannot or ought not to sing more than twenty days in a month, and who surely ought to be allowed to use their time in a reasonablemanner. Moreover, these are the teachers whom it is most difficult tocomprehend. Though they use only seven tones, they are plunged inimpenetrable mysteries, in incomprehensible knowledge and a multitude ofso-called secrets, out of which, indeed, nothing can ever be brought tolight. For this, however, they do not consider themselves to blame, noteven their hobby-horses; but, as they say, "the higher powers. " We will, for once, suppose that three-fourths of the measures which they areaccustomed to employ in their treatment of the voice and of theindividual are good and correct (the same is true of manypiano-teachers); but the remaining fourth is sufficient to ruin thevoice, or to prevent its proper development, and therefore nothingcorrect is to be gained. There are other teachers who never can getbeyond the formation of the tone, and are lost in the pursuit of_perfection_, --that "terrestrial valley of tears. " Truly a beautifulcountry, but which is only to be found in Paradise! Others, instead of thinking, "I will try for the present to do betterthan others have done, " so harass and torment the poor mortal voiceswith their aim at perfect equality and perfect beauty of tone, theresult often is that every thing becomes unequal and far from beautiful. Some teachers make their pupils so anxious and troubled that, owing totheir close attention to the tone, and the breath, and thepronunciation, they sing their songs in an utterly wooden manner, and soin fact they, too, are lost in optimism and in tears; whereas, forsinging, a happy confidence in the ability to succeed is essential. Others pursue an opposite course, and are guilty of worse faults, as youwill see if you look around. Some of them have no standard ofperfection, but use up the time in an exchange of ideas with theirpupils, with mysterious and conceited "ifs" and "buts. " They are verypositive, but only within the narrow circle of their own ideas. Theymake no advance in a correct medium path. Some allow pupils to practiseonly _staccato_, and others only _legato_, aiming thereby at nobodyknows what. Some allow them to sing too loud, others too feebly; somephilosophize earnestly about beauty in the voice, and others grumbleabout unpleasantness in the same; some are enthusiastic aboutextraordinary talents, others fret about the want of talent; some have apassion for making all the sopranos sing alto, others do just thereverse; some prefer a shadowy, others a clear voice. They all resttheir opinions upon the authority of some famous screaming-master whohas written a singing-system. Upon like authority, some cultivatechiefly the deep tones, because it is very fine, and "creates aneffect, " for soprano voices to be able suddenly to sing like men, orrather to growl, and because it is the fashion in Paris. Others, on thecontrary, pride themselves upon the head-tones; but they are none ofthem willing to pay much attention to the medium voices: that is toocritical and too delicate a matter, and requires too much trouble, forthe modern art of singing. As a last resort, they bethink themselves ofkind Nature, and lay the blame upon her. Well, I will say no more upon this point, but will proceed. Have I notalready, in my piano instructions, insisted on the importance of agradual and careful use of every proper expedient to extend, strengthen, beautify, and preserve the voice? I am thought, however, to infringeupon the office of the singing-masters, who hold their position to bemuch more exalted than that of the poor piano-teacher. Still, I must beallowed to repeat that voices are much more easily injured than fingers;and that broken, rigid voices are much worse than stiff, unmanageablefingers, unless, after all, they amount to the same thing. I demand ofsinging-teachers that they show themselves worthy of their position, and allow no more voices to go to destruction, and that they give ussome satisfactory results. I believe in fact, in my homely simplicity, that the whole thing may be accomplished without any mystery, withouttrading in secrets or charlatanry; without the aid of modern anatomicalimprovement, or rather destruction, of the worn-out throat, throughshortening or increasing the flexibility of the palate, through theremoval of the unnecessary glands or by attempts to lengthen the vocalpassage, or by remedying a great many other things in which Nature hasmade a mistake, and on which special doctors for the voice, in Paris andLondon, are now employed. We supply the want of all these by the following little rule:-- Three trifles are essential for a good piano or singing-teacher, -- _The finest taste, The deepest feeling, The most delicate ear, _ and, in addition, the requisite knowledge, energy, and some practice. _Voilà tout!_ I cannot devote myself to the treatment of the throat, forwhich I have neither time not fitness; and my lady singers are so busywith the formation of true tone, and in attention to the care andpreservation of their voices, that they only wish to open their mouthsfor that object, and not for anatomical purposes. In piano-playing also, I require no cutting of the interdigital fold, no mechanicalhand-support, no accelerator for the fingers or stretching machine; andnot even the "finger-rack" invented and used, without my knowledge, by afamous pupil[A] of mine, for the proper raising of the third and fourthfingers. My dear young lady, if the Creator has made the throat badly forsinging, he alone is responsible. I cannot come to his assistance bydestroying the throat with lunar caustic, and then reconstructing it. Ifthe throat is really worn out, may it not perhaps be owing to theteacher, and to his mistaken management? Nature does many things well, and before the introduction of this modernfashion of singing produced many beautiful voices: has she all at oncebecome incapable of doing any thing right? We will, then, simply return to the _three trifles_ above-mentioned;and in these we will live and work "with all our heart, with all oursoul, and with all our mind. " [A] Reference is here made to Robert Schumann, who, in order tofacilitate the use of the weaker fingers, employed a machine for raisingthe fingers artificially, which resulted in loss of power over them, andnecessitated the abandonment of piano-playing. --_Tr. _ CHAPTER IX. THOUGHTS ON SINGING. Our vocal composers, followed by many singing-teachers and singinginstitutions, have almost banished from music the true art of singing;or, at least, have introduced an unnatural, faulty, and alwaysdisagreeable mode of delivery, by which the voice has been destroyed, even before it has attained its full development. The consideration ofthis fact induces me to communicate some portions from my journal, andto unite with them a few opinions of the noted singing-master, Teschner, of Berlin. * * * * * Must we again and again explain to German composers that, though we donot require them to compose in Italian, they ought, at least, to learnto write in German in a manner suited for singing? otherwise, in theiramazing ignorance and infatuation, they will wear out the powers ofopera singers, and torture the public, apparently without a suspicionthat it is possible to write both grand and light operas with true, characteristic German thoroughness. Even German opera requires aconstant attention to the right use of the voice, and a methodical, effective mode of singing. It tolerates no murderous attacks on singlemale and female voices, or on the full opera company; it is opposed tothat eager searching after superficial effect, which every sincerefriend of the opera must lament. Is it, then, so difficult to obtain the requisite knowledge of the humanvoice, and to study the scores of Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti with a special regard to this? Do our vocalcomposers make too great a sacrifice to their creative genius in makinga study of those things which are essential? You consider it mortifyingto inquire of those who understand singing, and you are sensitive aboutany disturbance of your vain over-estimate of your own powers; but youare not ashamed to cause the destruction of man's noblest gift, --thehuman voice! If taste, feeling, and a fine ear are, and always must be, the chief requirements in composing for the great public, I ask you howyou can lay claim to these three trifles, when you constantly violatethem? COMPOSER. If Mrs. N. Had executed my aria to-day in as earnest andmasterly a style, and with as agreeable a voice, as she did that ofRossini yesterday, she would have given as much satisfaction; for it ismuch more interesting and expressive both musically and harmonically, and written with more dramatic effect. SINGER. You make a mistake, and you always will do so, as long as youconsider the study of the voice as of secondary importance, or, in fact, pay no attention whatever to it. The latter aria, which is composed witha regard to the voice, and to the employment of its most agreeabletones, puts me into a comfortable mood, and gives me a feeling ofsuccess; yours, on the contrary, into one of dissatisfaction andanticipation of failure. Of what importance is the musical value of acomposition, if it can only be sung with doubtful success, and if thevoice is obliged to struggle with it, instead of having it undercontrol? You attach less importance to the free, agreeable exercise ofthe voice than does the unanimous public. I do not wish to excitecompassion, but to give pleasure by a beautifully developed style ofsinging. You pay some attention to adaptability to the piano or theviolin: why are you usually regardless of fitness for the voice? Critics have often asked, Why does Jenny Lind sing so coolly? why doesshe not sing grand, passionate parts? why does she not select for herperformances some of the later German or even Italian operas? why doesshe always sing Amina, Lucia, Norma, Susanna, &c. ? In reply to these andsimilar questions, I will ask, Why does she wish always to remain JennyLind? why does she endeavor to preserve her voice as long as possible?why does she select operas in which she may use her pure, artistic, refined mode of singing, which permits no mannerism, no hypocriticalsentiment, and which possesses an ideal beauty? why does she chooseoperas in which she can give the most perfect possible image of her ownpersonality? why operas in which she may allow the marvellous union ofher powers of song to shine conspicuously, without doing violence to hervoice and forcing its tones, or casting doubt upon her lofty, noble, andbeautiful art? why does she first regard the singing, and onlyafterwards the music, or both united? This is the answer to the samequestions which are likewise asked about Henrietta Sontag and all greatsingers. Even the passionate Schröder-Devrient seldom made an exceptionto this rule, although she was not independent of the theatres. These questions should be an urgent warning to our young female singersnot to sacrifice themselves to any of the modern screaming operas, unsuited for singing; but to preserve and watch over their voices, andto guard them from immoderate, continued, and often inartistic exertion;in fact, to sing always in the voice-register with which nature hasendowed them, and never to shriek; to renounce the present, fashionable, so-called "singing effects, " and the modern scene-screaming, as JennyLind and Henrietta Sontag have always done. Then their voices wouldremain useful for the opera, as was formerly the case, from ten totwenty years; and they would not have to mourn, as is too common, aftera very short time, a feeble, broken voice and departed health. Let Jenny Lind and Henrietta Sontag be placed as the finest modelsbefore our young, gifted, ambitious singers. They are to be regarded asmiraculous phenomena; especially in our times, when the modern style ofsinging has, for reasons difficult to justify, so widely deviated fromthe old school which was so fruitful in brilliant results, --that ofPistocchi, Porpora, and Bernacchi. What could show more clearly thedestructiveness of our present opera style than the sublime beauty oftheir singing, combined with their noble, refined, sound voices, suchas may perhaps still be found among you? * * * * * The managers of our theatres are in want of tenor singers who can act. They should consider that tenors who have any voices left have neverlearned to act, and tenors who are able to act no longer have anyvoices; because, as a rule, they either have studied too little, or havestudied erroneously. Unless the voice has received a correct and fineculture, the German comic operas lead immediately to destruction of thevoice, especially of the sensitive, easily injured German tenor voice. Here I take occasion to remark upon the universal prejudice, that "atenor ought to develop the chest-tones as far as possible, that they arethe finest. " In tenors, with very few exceptions, this mistakentreatment has been speedily followed by the loss both of voice andhealth. Nicely shaded singing, from _piano_ onwards, is thereby renderedimpossible; and tones which are always forced must remain unpleasant, even although powers thus laboriously gained may sometimes have a fineeffect in the opera. A tenor who wishes to preserve his voice and not toscream in the upper tones, who desires always to have a _piano_ atcommand and to possess the necessary shading and lightness as well aselegance and flexibility, should cultivate the _falsetto_, and endeavorto bring it down as far as possible into the chest-register. This is asindispensable as is the use of the head-tones for the soprano. When the_falsetto_ has too striking a resemblance to the chest-voice, and iseven inferior to it in power, it is the result of want of perseveranceand prudence in its cultivation. It ought to be almost imperceptiblyconnected with the chest-register by the introduction of the mixedtones. * * * * * We shall probably soon be called upon to read an "Address of YoungFemale Singers to the Composers of Germany, " as follows: "Freedom ofthought! freedom in composition! freedom in the opera! but noannihilation of the throat! You are hereby notified that we protestagainst all operas which are repugnant to the true art of singing; forit is not in your power to compensate us for the loss of our voices, although it may be possible for you, after using up our talent asquickly as possible, to look around for others, with whom you can do thesame. First learn to understand singing, or, rather, first learn tosing, as your predecessors have done, and as Italian composers still do, and then we will talk with you again. " * * * * * "What a pedantic outcry about German want of adaptability for singing!Pray where is there the most singing?" It is, I agree, in Germany. "Isnot singing taught in the public schools? And consider, too, theinnumerable singing clubs, singing societies, and singing institutions!" That is just the misfortune which requires a thorough investigation. Howmany promising voices do these institutions annually follow to thegrave? Who is it who sing in the schools? Boys and girls from thirteento fifteen years old. But boys ought not to be allowed to sing while thevoice is changing; and girls, also from physical reasons, ought not tosing at all at that age. And what kind of instructors teach singinghere? Our epistolary and over-wise age overwhelms our superintendentsand corporations with innumerable petitions and proposals; but no truefriend of humanity, of music, and of singing, has yet been found toenlighten these authorities, and to prove to them that the mostbeautiful voices and finest talents are killed in the germ by theseunsuitable so-called singing-lessons, especially in the public schools. Girls' voices may be carefully awakened, and skilfully practised, andmade flexible and musical; but they should be used only in _mezzo-voce_, and only until the period of their development, or up to the thirteenthyear, or a few months sooner or later. This ought also to be done withgreat experience, delicacy, practical knowledge and circumspection. Butwhere are we to find suitable singing-professors, and who is to pay thema sufficient salary? Therefore, away with this erroneous instruction ofchildren in singing! away with this abortion of philanthropy and themusical folly of this extravagant age! Can such a premature, unrefined, faulty screaming of children, or croaking in their throats, withoutartistic cultivation and guidance, compensate for the later inevitablehoarseness and loss of voice, and for the destruction of the organs ofsinging? The tenors who belong to these singing societies and institutions forceout and sacrifice their uncultured voices, and scream with throat, palate, and nasal tones, in the execution of four-part songs by this orthat famous composer, which are far from beautiful, and which serve onlyto ruin the voice. Who was the lady who sang the solo in yonder singingacademy? That girl, a year ago, had a fresh, beautiful, sonorous voice;but, although she is only twenty years old, it already begins to failher, and she screws and forces it, by the help of the chest-tones, up tothe two-lined _a_, without any thing having ever been done for theadjustment of the voice-registers and for the use of the head-tones, andwithout proper direction from a competent superintendent. Instead ofthis, he was continually exclaiming: "Loud! forcibly! _conespressione!_" While even the street boys in Italy sing clearly, and often with greatability, their national songs, so well suited to the voice, and in theirmost beautiful language, our northern voices, which are obliged tocontend with the great difficulties of the German language, aresacrificed in the most cold-blooded and self-satisfied manner in theschools and singing societies, while all artistic preparation, by whichalone the voice may be preserved and cultivated, is neglected. Who are at the head of these institutions and societies? Musicians it istrue; but they are strangers to any special education in singing, or arenot skilful singing-teachers, who understand how to combine methodicalcultivation of the voice with practical execution. Their entireinstruction consists, at most, in hitting the notes and keeping time. These musicians say: "Whoever joins my society must know how to sing!"What does that mean? Where are they to learn it? And, even when you havesucceeded in obtaining for your academy a few imprudent but well-taughtsingers, does not the preservation of their voices then require thegreatest care and watchfulness? Is that in your power? Have you therequisite knowledge for it? Are not these few well-educated voicesobliged to sing by the side of singers who have been taught in a wrongmanner, and who have no pure, correct intonation? Then what do thesesocieties amount to? Do they improve or destroy the voice? They make themembers musical. A fine consolation for the loss of the voice! Theyteach them to hit the notes and to keep time. A great comfort after thevoice has been destroyed by false culture! * * * * * A singing-teacher who has no firm, decided principle, who is constantlywavering backwards and forwards, and who frequently leads others intoerror by his untenable opinions; who cannot quickly discern the specialtalent and capacity of his pupils, or discover the proper means to getrid of what is false or wrong, and adopt the speediest road to success, without any one-sided theories of perfection; who mistrusts and blames, worries, offends, and depresses, instead of encouraging; who is alwaysdissatisfied instead of cordially acknowledging what is good in thepupil; who at one time rides a high horse instead of kindly offering ahelping hand, and at another time praises as extravagantly as he beforehas blamed, and kills time in such ways as these, --he may be anencyclopædia of knowledge, but his success will always fall short of hishopes. Firmness, decision, energy, and a delicate, quick perception; theart not to say too much or too little, and to be quite clear in his ownmind, and with constant considerate kindness to increase the courage andconfidence of his pupils, --these are requisite above all things for asinging-master as well as for a piano-teacher. * * * * * "My singers are to be educated for the public, for the stage, and musttherefore sing loud, study hard, force their execution, and make use ofa great deal of breath. How else will they be able to produce aneffect?" _Answer. _ What, then, is the effect of your culture? I know of none, except that they at first are applauded, because they are young andpretty, and are novelties; because they have good voices, and thebenevolent public wishes to encourage them; and then they disappear in ayear or two without leaving any trace. "The singing-teacher can succeed in cultivating not more than one goodvoice in twenty, with any noteworthy result. Hence the decadence of theart of singing. " _Answer. _ Unless some unusual disturbance or sickness occur, all voicesimprove till the twenty-fourth year. When this is not the case, it is tobe attributed only to the singing-teacher. "Many voices acquire a sharp tone, which is the precursor of decay. " _Answer. _ All voices are, and will remain, more or less tender, if theirculture is correct. "Only Jenny Lind and Henrietta Sontag were allowed by the public to giveout their voices naturally and lightly without straining them, and tosing _piano_ and _pianissimo_, and their celebrity is a justification ofthis privilege. " _Answer. _ But how would they have obtained their celebrity, if this werenot the true, correct, and pure mode of singing? "Our singers also try the _piano_ and _pianissimo_; but they canproduce no effect on their audiences by it, as you may see every day. " _Answer. _ Good heavens! I should think so! With such a _piano_, withstrained voices, faulty attack, and the use of too much breath, --a_piano_ which only gurgles in the throat, or deeper! That I do not mean:I must refer you again to the three trifles mentioned in my eighthchapter. "But some voices have no _piano_, and many singers do not take the rightcourse to acquire it. " _Answer. _ What a wide-spread, groundless excuse! Here we may see theerror of our times. People look for the fault outside of themselves, andnot in themselves. The inventive power of the age is here trulyastonishing! When, owing to false management, the voice soon degeneratesinstead of improving with time, it is the consequence of a faultyformation of the throat, and of the neglect of London throat brushes! Ifsuch badly educated voices can no longer produce a _piano_, it is owingto the unskilfulness of nature, and to the false construction of thenecessary organs! If the _piano_ is only a wheeze, the reason is foundin the deficiency of palate, and excess of muscles! If several times inthe month, the worn out, weary voice can only groan and sigh, or cannotemit a sound, it is the result of a change in the weather, or othermeteorological conditions! If we complain of unpleasant, shriekingtones, occasioned by the mouth being too widely stretched, then "therays of sound take an oblique, instead of a direct course"! If the poor, strained medium voice, even with the help of a great deal of breath, canonly produce dull, hollow, veiled, and unpleasant tones, that is said tobe a necessary crisis, of which cruel Nature requires a great many inthe course of her development of the voice! Finally, if from long andforced holding of the chest-tones, they are changed into noises like thebellowing of calves and the quacking of ducks, and the instructorfinally perceives it, then again we have a crisis! And, alas! no onethinks of "the three trifles. " * * * * * What occasions the want of success of our singing-teachers, many of whomare musical, possess a delicate ear, fine culture and feeling, havestudied systems of singing, and exert themselves zealously to teachrightly? They fail in the culture of the tone, which is not to be learned frombooks or by one's self, but only from verbal communication. To learn toproduce a clear tone, with a light, free, natural attack; to understandhow to draw forth the sound with the use of no unnecessary breath, andto cause the sound to strike against the roof of the mouth above theupper row of teeth; to improve the pronunciation; to adjust theregisters, --these, with many other things, may seem very easy; but toteach them all in the shortest time, without wearing out the voice andwithout falling into errors; to persevere in teaching to the end, evenif the pupil already sings correctly; to know what is still wanting andhow it is to be attained, --all these one must acquire by long andconstant experience. When Schröder-Devrient came from Vienna to Dresden, a young but alreadycelebrated singer, though at that time wanting in the proper foundationfor singing, she was not a little surprised when Miksch called herattention to this deficiency. She devoted herself thoroughly to theprimary formation of the tone under the instruction of Miksch, and muststill remember the old master, and his extraordinary practice in thisparticular. Miksch learned it from Caselli, a pupil of Bernacchi. He hadjust sung as a young tenor, with great applause, in a concert, andintroduced himself to Caselli, who was present, expecting to receivehis approbation; but the latter, instead of commending, assured himfrankly that his mode of singing was false, and that with such misusehis voice would succumb within a year, unless he adopted a correctculture of tone. After much hard struggle, the young Miksch renouncedall further public applause, and studied the formation of toneassiduously and perseveringly with Caselli, after having previouslyallowed his over-strained voice a time for rest. If a singing-teacher has, by chance, met with a docile pupil, possessedof a voice of unusual beauty, it frequently happens that the studies arenot pursued with sufficient perseverance; and, perhaps, are continuedonly for a few weeks or months, instead of allowing a year or more, according to circumstances. Richard Wagner agrees with me, when he says, "Why, then, write operas to be sung, when we no longer have either maleor female singers?" * * * * * Since modern progress has come to regard "the three trifles" asbelonging entirely to the past, and in their place has proclaimed, "Boldness, Spirit, Power, " two evil spirits have had rule: they go handin hand, ruin the voice, wound the cultivated ear, and provide forus--only empty opera houses. One of these evils has been frequentlyalluded to by me. It is "the expenditure of a great deal too muchbreath. " The finest voices are obliged to practise with full breathuntil they shriek, and the result is mere sobbing, and the heavy drawingof the breath, just at the time when the tone should still be heard. Even if every thing else could be right, in such a culture of the tone, which must very shortly relax the muscles of the voice, that one thing, in itself, would be sufficient to destroy all promise of success. The second evil endangers even the male voice, which is able to enduremuch ill-treatment; while the female voice is quickly forced by it intoa piercing shrillness, or is driven back into the throat, soon to beentirely exhausted, or is, at least, prevented from attaining a natural, fine development. This second evil is the reckless and destructivestraining of single tones to their extreme limits, even to perfectexhaustion. The poor singer urges and squeezes out the voice, andquivers to the innermost marrow, in order that the two requirements of"Boldness" and "Power" may be satisfied. But the "Spirit" is stillwanting, which should be shown in a light and well-shaded delivery. Theeffect of extreme shading, however, is accomplished in a single"romanza. " The unfortunate, misdirected singer, who must aim at effect, lays out so much force on single tones, or even on whole lines, andthat, too, in the best register of his voice (the other registers do notpermit this), that the succeeding tones are forced to retire powerlessinto the throat; and the beautiful, fresh, youthful tenor or bass voiceconcludes with exhausted groaning and mere speaking tones. The "romanza"is now at an end, and certainly "Boldness, Spirit, and Power" haveworked in union. The task is executed the better, because a rudeaccompaniment has probably sustained the singer in a most strikingmanner, and has completed the total effect. By such management, to which I must emphatically add the continualholding of the tones, even in the _forte_, voices are expected "to comeout, " to be developed, inspired, and made beautiful. What healthy earcan endure such enormities in tone formation, such tortures in singing?These, then, are the modern contributions for the embellishment of art!A curse on these evil spirits! If my feeble pen shall assist in bringingsuch singing-teachers to their senses, and shall help to save only afew of our fine voices, I shall consider my mission fulfilled, and theaim of this book, so far as it concerns singing, accomplished. * * * * * I have heretofore combated many prejudices, both in earnest and insport, successfully and unsuccessfully; but one I find veryobstinate, --it has pursued me incessantly for years. A piano-player, with a rigid, strained, and vicious touch, proceeding from the arm, mayplay a great deal, but his playing is thoroughly vulgar and withoutbeauty. He feels this himself, and the playing of my pupils pleases himbetter. He wishes me to change his style to their better manner; but hestill continues to pound, to bang, to exaggerate, and to play in his ownway, and only wishes his style to be improved, and his power ofexecution to be increased. If a performer of this sort is not much morethan twenty years of age, something may yet be done for the improvementof his touch, and consequently of his style of playing; but this is onlypossible by laying aside all his accustomed pieces of music, and bydiligently practising, daily, small easy exercises, which must be playeddelicately, with loose fingers, and without allowing the arm to give theslightest assistance; otherwise, all labor will be thrown away uponhim. How else can you begin, except by laying a proper foundation for abetter style? I have frequently urged this principle both by speech andin writing; but the difficulty always returns, and especially in thecultivation of female singers. A girl of eighteen comes to me: she has heard of the excellentcultivation of my lady singers, and wishes to obtain the same forherself. In order that I may hear her voice, she selects the "Erlkönig, "by Schubert, that perilous piece, which is apt to lead even highlycultivated singers into frightful atrocities. Heavens! what must I hear?With the remains of a fine, youthful voice, whose registers are alreadybroken up and disconnected, she shrieks out the "Erlkönig, " between sobsand groans, with screwed-up chest-tones, and many modern improprieties, but nevertheless with dramatic talent. The piercing voice, forced to itsutmost, fills me with horror; but also with pity for such a gloriousendowment, and such an unnatural development. At the conclusion, hervoice succumbed to the effort, and she could only groan hoarsely, andwheeze without emitting a sound. She has, however, frequently producedgreat effect in society, and drawn tears with this performance: it isher favorite piece. Let us abandon this singing for parties, thismelancholy _dilettantismus_, everywhere so obtrusive! The girl is onlyeighteen years old: is she beyond salvation? I endeavor to build hervoice up again, gradually, by gentle practice. She succeeds very well init, and after six lessons her natural docility arouses hope. Thehead-tones again make their appearance, and the practice of _solfeggio_brings out once more the stifled voice which had been forced back intothe throat by senseless exertions; a better attack begins to bedeveloped, and the chest-register returns to its natural limits. She nowdeclared, with her mother's approval, that she really would continue tostudy in this way, but she could not give up the performance of hereffective and spirited conception of the "Erlkönig. " She came a fewtimes more: I could perceive that the good structure was tottering. After a few months, she had entirely sacrificed her voice to this single"Erlkönig. " In such tender years, one such idol is sufficient. What aprice for an "Erlkönig"! The old, experienced singing-teacher, Miksch, of Dresden (with the exception of Rossini, the last famous champion ofthe old school), has often warned me that radical amendment is seldompossible with such over-strained and broken voices, which already areobliged to struggle with enfeebled muscles, even although youth mayexcite great and decided hopes. There is also another difficulty: thatone of these strong, over-strained voices must hereafter be used withmuch less strength, if we wish to cultivate a correct tone; and it isimpossible to tell whether the chest-tones, when they are restored totheir true limit, will ever come out again as powerful and at the sametime as beautiful. Let no musician, however talented and cultivated hemay be, ever adopt the teaching of singing, unless he can combine withfirmness of character great patience, perseverance, anddisinterestedness; otherwise, he will experience very little pleasureand very little gratitude. Even if the "Erlkönig" does not stand in theway, every voice presents new and peculiar difficulties. _A Few Words addressed to Singing-Teachers on the Accompaniment ofEtudes, Exercises, Scales, &c. _ It is common for teachers to play their accompaniments as furiously asif they had to enter into a struggle for life and death with theirsingers. At the beginning of the lesson, the lady singer ought tocommence quite _piano_, at _f_ in the one-lined octave, and to sing upand down from there through five or six notes, without any expenditureof breath, and should guide and bring out her voice by a gentle practiceof _solfeggio_; and yet you bang, and pound on the keys, as if you hadto accompany drums and trumpets. Do you not perceive that in this wayyou induce your pupils to strain and force their voices, and that youmislead them into a false method? In such a noise, and while you aremaking such a monstrous expenditure of strength, to which you add asharp, uneasy touch, and a frequent spreading of the chords, how can youwatch the delicate movements of the singer's throat? Is it necessary forme to explain how such a rude accompaniment must interfere with theeffort to sing firmly and delicately? Are you not aware that a light andagreeable, but at the same time firm and decided, accompanimentencourages and sustains the singer, and also assists and inspires her?You ought, in every way, to seek to cultivate in your pupil the feelingfor the right, the true, and the beautiful; but what is the girl ofeighteen to think of _your_ culture and _your_ sentiment, if you poundthe keys as if you were one of the "piano-furies"? While this is your mode of accompanying the études, how then do youaccompany the aria, the song? If, for instance, the pupil is singingtenderly, and wishes to bring out an artistic, delicate shading, youtake advantage of that occasion to make yourself heard, and to annoy thesinger and the audience with your rough shading. A singing-teacher whodoes not take pains to acquire a good, delicate touch, and who neglectsto pay constant attention to it, is wanting in the first requirement;and this is closely connected with the want of "the three trifles. " CHAPTER X. VISIT AT MRS. N. 'S. MRS. N. _Her daughter_ FATIMA, _eighteen years old_. AN AUNT. DOMINIE. _Towards the end of the evening, the piano-teacher_, MR. FEEBLE. DOMINIE (_rather anxiously to Fatima_). Will you do me the favor, Miss, to play something on the piano? Your aunt has told me a great deal aboutyour playing. FATIMA (_smiling graciously_). But, really, the piano is out oftune, --so my teacher says. DOMINIE. But does not your teacher attend to having your piano alwayskept in tune? FATIMA. Mamma says it is too expensive to have it tuned so often; itgets out of tune again so quickly. It is an old, small-legged piano, asyou see: mamma is always saying, when I am older I shall have aChickering. The tuner comes regularly once in three months; the time isnot yet up. DOMINIE. But is your teacher satisfied with the tuning of your piano? FATIMA. Well, he has got used to it. It is the same with the otherinstruments he teaches on. MRS. N. Now, pet, play us something. Mr. Dominie likes music; he is ajudge of it; his daughters play too. FATIMA. But what shall I play, mamma? MRS. N. You have got heaps of notes there. Mr. Dominie, pray selectsomething. DOMINIE. But I don't know which pieces Miss Fatima can master, and whichshe has now at her fingers' ends. AUNT. Pray, Mr. Dominie, choose any thing. They are all fine pieces. Itmakes no difference to her which she plays. DOMINIE. But do you play that whole heap? AUNT. She has played it all. She has played ever since she was ten yearsold, and she has a very good teacher. He taught here when my sister usedto accompany her lover's solos on the flute. Oh, those were charmingmusical evenings! And the teacher often played the guitar with them_extempore_. It was just like a concert. DOMINIE. Indeed! that must have been very fine. Now, Miss, I beg-- FATIMA. But, mamma, just say what I shall play. DOMINIE. Is not your teacher here this evening? He will know best. AUNT (_whispers to Dominie_). He is busy this evening, composing somegrand bravoura variations, which are to be dedicated to Fatima on hereighteenth birthday, the day after to-morrow. You must come to see us onthat day. Fatima will play them at sight. MRS. N. Fatima, don't hold back any longer. Play "The Huguenots" byThalberg: that's a very fine piece. DOMINIE. Pray do! I have not heard it since I heard Thalberg play it. AUNT (_to Dominie_). Don't you make your daughters play it then? Oh, that magnificent choral! That brings tears to my eyes! But the dearchild always takes it too fast: her fingers run away with her. MRS. N. Here it is. Please turn round so that you can see her hands, Mr. Dominie. You are such a famous teacher, perhaps you can make somesuggestions. (_I was expected only to admire. _) DOMINIE. I don't like to disturb her freedom in playing; but I will turnround, if you say so. (_Fatima scurries through the piece excitedly, and plays in a bold way, --not, however, without ability, but with a feeble touch, without proper fingering, without tone, without time; and gets over the first two pages, with her foot always on the pedal, in such a senseless, indistinct manner that Dominie, in despair, was forced to interrupt with the remark, "But you might take the _tempo_ a little more quietly. "_) (_Fatima leans back amazed, and stops playing, looking at her mother with a contemptuous expression. _) AUNT. It is owing to her great execution, and then, too, her youthfulenthusiasm. Don't you like her natural expression? FATIMA. My teacher always makes me play it so. It is in that way that Ihave learned to play so much at sight. DOMINIE. But don't you study your pieces? FATIMA. For the last four years I have played only at sight, so that nowI can get on anywhere in the musical clubs. That is what mamma likes. DOMINIE. But do you not play any scales and études? do you not practiseany exercises? AUNT. She has not done those things for the last four years. My sisterthinks it is rather a hindrance, and is too pedantic. Her teacherthinks so too, and he teaches her the fine concert pieces of Döhler, Liszt, Dreyschock, Willmer, and Thalberg. She learns execution by these. She has gone through all Thalberg's music; and we have sent to Leipzigfor Willmer's "Pompa di Festa. " DOMINIE. All this shows great enthusiasm, but really a little too muchhot haste. (_Dominie wishes to continue the conversation, in order to escape the unpleasant necessity of "turning round to the piano. "_) MRS. N. (_interrupts_). My child, just begin again at the beginning, andlet us enjoy the whole of "The Huguenots. " Mr. Dominie likes it. (_Fatima consents, and hurries through the whole Potpourri with a confident, conceited air, to the great despair of Dominie. At the choral, the aunt taps him on the shoulder, and whispers. _) AUNT. Is not that touching? It is a little too fast, you will agree; butthen the execution! Has not the girl a great deal of talent? Just hear! * * * * * But what did Dominie say after the performance was over? He only bowedstiffly, and what he said to himself will always remain a secret. Heonly _felt_. They go in to supper. All who submitted to hearing the daughter performon the badly tuned piano, which was at least a tone and a half too low, were invited to supper and handsomely treated. The wine was better thanthe piano. Presently the teacher, Mr. Feeble, having finished hisbirthday bravoura composition, appeared and was introduced. Fatimawhispered to him, giggling, "I played the whole of 'The Huguenots;' itwent splendidly. " Mr. Feeble simpered. Dominie and he talked together, unheard, at the end of the table. * * * * * DOMINIE. The young lady has talent, Mr. Feeble. MR. FEEBLE. Indeed she has! DOMINIE. How is it, Mr. Feeble, that she does not combine seriousstudies with her playing? MR. FEEBLE. Oh! I used to make her play exercises by A. E. Mueller, andsome Etudes of Czerny's, and sometimes a few scales. But the child wasso volatile, and had so little perseverance, and was so quick atlearning every thing! And then her mother wanted her to play modernpieces for parties, and we had to busy ourselves with those. But ourmethod has borne good fruit, as you can see. Is not it so? DOMINIE. Do you not think, with firmness and decision, you could haveset Mrs. N. On the right track? Could not you cultivate the mechanicalpowers of your pupil, and combine an understanding of the musicalconstruction of the piece, with her "playing at sight"? The young lady, not to speak of other faults, has no tone on the piano. MR. FEEBLE. She can use the pedal for that, and, when she is older, shewill acquire more strength; her touch is a little too weak at present. And, besides, she is not to play in public for money, but only incompany, and because it is the fashion. Indeed, my dear sir, if Iinsisted on scales and exercises, I should have very few lessons in thiscity. I have a wife and children to support, and my old father, theformer organist, is dependent upon me. You can do all this with your ownchildren; but think how much time it requires to _study_ the music! (_The company bid each other "good-night. "_) FATIMA (_flippantly to Dominie_). I believe your daughter Emma is a verygood player; but they say she has not so much talent as your eldestdaughter. DOMINIE. Indeed! who told you that? CHAPTER XI. SECRETS. _(A Discourse on Piano-Playing, delivered to an Audience of LadyPupils. )_ Ladies, --As I am about to make a journey of a few weeks with mydaughters, we will suspend for a short time our musical meetings. On myreturn, you will resume them with fresh interest. We will then not onlyplay and sing together, but occasionally talk upon kindred subjects. Your friends will be made welcome, provided they are really interestedin simple and noble musical performances, which make no attempt atdisplay. We will exclude from our circle malicious criticism and idlecuriosity: we require the accompaniment of the violin and 'cello, butnot of those two disturbing elements. To-day I wish to propound a query in regard to piano-playing, to thepartial solution of which you will perhaps be glad to give someattention. You may be sure that I shall always speak only upon subjectswhich are not even mentioned in the most crowded piano-schools. _Query. _ Why is it that our young, educated ladies, who enjoy theadvantages of sufficient talent, industry, a serious purpose, and allthe necessary aids, are usually dissatisfied with their progress andwith their success in piano-playing? Their education is a sufficiently careful one, extending to all branchesof knowledge; but their intellectual advancement in music (although ithas been fostered for years, by constantly listening to good music, andfrequently to the performances of distinguished players, and by acritical comparison of their own performances with these) is still smallin proportion to their power of execution, and to the mechanicalfacility which they have acquired. These are certainly essential to acorrect and agreeable rendering of a piece of music: the compositionswhich are to be performed ought, however, never to demand the exerciseof all the mechanical skill which has been acquired, for in that case, by the struggle with mechanical difficulties, only embarrassment, discouragement, and anxious haste are apt to take the place of boldness, confidence in one's self, and command of the music. It is the duty ofteachers, in choosing studies for the improvement of technique, toselect only such as are within the mechanical powers of the pupil, inorder that he may make steady progress, and may acquire a pure anddelicate style of execution, retaining at the same time a livelyinterest in his pursuit. But why has the acquirement of this techniquebeen usually unsuccessful? 1. Because you begin to acquire it too late. In order to gain facilityand flexibility of the fingers and wrist (which a child in the sixth orseventh year, with a skilful teacher, may acquire in four lessons), fromfifteen to twenty lessons, according to the construction of the hand, are necessary with persons from ten to fourteen years old. For otherreasons also, we must urge that the mechanical facility should usuallybe acquired, or at least a complete foundation for it laid in childhood, and not left to be formed by a course which is destructive of allspirit, at an age when labor is performed with self-consciousness, --anage when our ladies are talking a great deal of musical interpretations, of tenderness and depth of feeling, of poetry and inspiration inplaying, to which they are led by the possession of our classical pianocompositions and immortal master-works, and by intellectual friends andteachers aiming at the highest culture. You reply: "But even if yourmode of elementary instruction should meet with faithful disciples, how, in such young pupils, are we to find perseverance and sense enough tocontinue these severe exercises, even in your interesting manner?" Mydear ladies, children ought to do it merely from habit, although in manycases, after the beginning, talent and correct musical instinct may maketheir appearance. Uninterrupted enjoyment would indeed be unnatural, andwhere you find it vanity will usually be its moving spring, and thisseldom bears good fruit. You may as well ask whether our great literarymen and artists always like to go to school, or whether they did notdelight in a holiday. Let this be the answer to the strange question, Doyour daughters like to play? Good heavens! After they are able to play, and that without much effort, and a little at sight; when they canmaster, with a musical appreciation, easy, graceful salon music, or eventhe easier compositions of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Hummel, Moscheles, &c. , --then they take pleasure in playing, and they play agreat deal, and with enthusiasm. 2. But, in case children should sometimes begin in their sixth year, youmust remember what is said, in the first chapter of this work, withregard to the prevalent false method of teaching beginners. You, however, are supposed to have had better and more sensible teachers. Letme nevertheless quote for your amusement the remark which I have heardso frequently in the course of my long life as a piano-teacher: "In thebeginning, a poor, rattling piano, that is forty years old, and that istuned regularly once a year, and a cheap teacher, will do well enough. As soon as the children learn to play really well, then we will have abetter piano and a better teacher. " Yes; but that time never comes, andthe parents soon conclude that even the most gifted children have notalent, and take no pleasure in music; and so they stop learning, onlyto regret it when they are older. But the parents console themselves, and after a while the old piano is never tuned at all. But, as I havetold you, I do not refer here to _your_ teachers, for whom I have apersonal regard, and who teach on excellent pianos. 3. Don't be angry with me for my suggestion, ladies: _you do not makeenough use of the minutes_. While our learned education absorbs so muchtime, while our friends require so many hours, while, alas! balls anddinners consume whole days, we must be sparing of the remaining minutes. "Now I must rush to the piano! I must go to dinner in ten minutes: twoscales, two finger exercises, two difficult passages out of the piece Ihave to learn, and one exercise to invent on the dominant andsub-dominant, are soon done; and then the dinner will taste all thebetter. " "My dear Agnes, we might talk for ever about this dreadful snow, itwon't melt the sooner for it: how do you like this passage that I amgoing to play to you? It is from a charming Nocturne, by Chopin, and isso difficult that I shall have to play it over fifty times, or else Ishall always stumble at this place, and I never shall know the Nocturneto play to any one. Don't you think it is beautiful?--so spiritual andoriginal! I can tell you it will be something to boast of, when I haveaccomplished that. You like it better the oftener I play it? So do I. " "We have an invitation out. Mother has a great deal to arrange, anddirections to give. We shall have to go in ten minutes. I must rush tothe piano, though I am in rather an inconvenient toilette: I may as wellaccustom myself to play in it. I shall have to spend three hours thisevening without any music. Well, to make up for it, I will occupy myselffor the next ten minutes with an exercise for this obstinate fourthfinger, though it is pretty dry. That weak finger has been a hindranceto many a fine passage and scale. That is better! Now I can put on mytight gloves. Suppose I should put on the left glove on the way. " Well, my young ladies, how many hours do you think all those minuteswould make in a year? But I hear you say, "What is the use of worryingto pick up all those stray minutes, like lost pins? We have a whole hourto practise every day, when nothing prevents. " Exactly, when nothingprevents. I will now tell you a few of my secrets for piano performers. If in piano-playing, or in any art, you wish to attain success, you mustresolve to work every day, at least a little, on the technique. Sicknessand other unavoidable interruptions deprive you of days enough. Practise always with unexhausted energy: the result will be tenfold. Doyou not frequently use the time for practising, when you have alreadybeen at work studying for five or six hours? Have you then strength andspirit enough to practise the necessary exercises for an hour or more, and to study your music-pieces carefully and attentively, as yourteacher instructed you? Is not your mind exhausted, and are not yourhands and fingers tired and stiff with writing, so that you are temptedto help out with your arms and elbows, which is worse than no practiceat all? But, my dear ladies, if you practise properly, several timesevery day, ten minutes at a time, your strength and your patience areusually sufficient for it; and, if you are obliged to omit your regular"hour's practice, " you have, at any rate, accomplished something withyour ten minutes before breakfast, or before dinner, or at any leisuremoment. So, I beg of you, let me have my minutes. Practise often, slowly, and without pedal, not only the smaller andlarger études, but also your pieces. In that way you gain, at least, acorrect, healthy mode of playing, which is the foundation of beautifulplaying. Do you do this when neither your teacher, nor your father ormother is present to keep watch over you? Do you never say, "Nobody islistening"? Do you take enough healthy exercise in the open air? Active exercise, inall weather, makes strong, enduring piano fingers, while subsisting onindoor-air results in sickly, nervous, feeble, over-strained playing. Strong, healthy fingers are only too essential for our present style ofpiano-playing, which requires such extraordinary execution, and for ourheavy instruments. So I still beg for the minutes: your walks take uphours enough. Excessive and fatiguing feminine occupations, and drawing, or painting, are by no means consistent with an earnest, practical musical education;not only because both those occupations require so much time, butbecause they deprive the fingers of the requisite pliability anddexterity, while knitting, according to the latest discoveries, producesan unnatural nervous excitement, which is unfavorable to healthyprogress in music. I at least, in my instruction on the piano, havenever been able to accomplish much with ladies who are devoted toknitting, crochet, and embroidering. My dear ladies, you who have beenborn in fortunate circumstances, and have been educated by your parents, without regard to expense, should, at least, allow the poor girl in thecountry, who is obliged to hide her talents under a bushel, the smallprivilege of making a collar for your mother's or your aunt's birthdaypresent. I assure you your mother or your aunt, if you surprise theminstead with a fine piano performance, will be as much pleased as if youstrained your eyes and bent your back for days and nights over theneedle-work. And now as regards painting: painting and music, thoughtheoretically so nearly related, agree but poorly in practice; at least, if you are in earnest about either. You say painters often play on theguitar and the flute. That may be true: I will allow them those twoinstruments. But piano-playing stands on a different footing, even formere amateurs. Sweet melodies on those instruments may afford anagreeable companionship for the painter in his rambles through the woodsand over the hills; but piano-playing should be the friend of alife-time, ennobled by the elevating enjoyment of lofty master-works. Therefore, I beg you, do not dissipate your powers too much. Leave theart of painting to your friends, who are either without talent formusic, or who have no opportunity to study it. Our short lives do notallow the successful practice of several arts. Of what advantage to ourhigher culture is it to be able to do ten things tolerably well; whatgain for the future, for humanity, or for the true happiness of theindividual? And even if you can succeed in painting something whichscarcely can be said to resemble a rose, of what advantage is it, whenwe have so many real roses to admire? My dear ladies, I warn you, generally, do not be afraid of theso-called classical, heavy music, especially Beethoven's, if you desireto learn from it, only or chiefly, repose, lightness, facility, elasticity, graceful, delicate playing, and a fine touch. It isnecessary to play such music after those brilliant qualities havealready been, to a certain degree, acquired by mere studies andappropriate pieces. It is, however, still more foolish and impractical, when parents (who perhaps are skilful musicians, but who have norecollection of their own youth) hold the mistaken opinion that theirchildren ought, from the very beginning, to practise and play only fineclassical music, in order that the children's ears may not be injured byfalse progressions, by insignificant finger exercises, and by easilycomprehensible Italian airs, and that they themselves may not be ruinedbody and soul. Gracious heavens! how much pure music, suited to thepiano, have not my daughters, as well as many others whom I have broughtup to be fine performers, played and studied!--such, for instance, asthe music of Hünten, Czerny, Burgmüller, Kalkbrenner, A. And J. Schmitt, Herz, and many others. Who finds fault now with their musical culture, with their sound taste, or their want of love for classical music? Whata long road a child has to travel through Etudes of Cramer, Moscheles, and Chopin, before he comes to Bach's Well-tempered Clavichord, orbefore he is able, or ought even, to study Beethoven's SonatePathétique! It is not well, though quite in the spirit of the times, tocondemn without experience, from one's own prejudiced point of view, themethods which those skilled in their business have for yearssuccessfully tried and practised. It is possible to make pupils musicalin the above way, but they will be only dull, clumsy bunglers on thepiano; not fine artists, who alone can give a worthy and nobleinterpretation of classical music. I desire that my daughters may neverforget my well-considered instructions, sustained by the experience ofmany years; and that they may, in grateful remembrance of their fatherand teacher, repay to their pupils what they owe to him. But I see among my audience several beginners in singing, and I beg tobe allowed a word to them. So long as many of our German song composersconsider it beneath their dignity to study the art of singing in the oldItalian master-works, and under the guidance of well-qualified singingmasters, --as Gluck, Naumann, Hasse, Händel, Haydn, Mozart, Salieri, Winter, and others have done, --I warn you to take care of your tendervoices, which are so easily ruined, and not to allow yourselves to bemisled by ingenious opinions, and by music otherwise good. The loss ofyour voices follows in the footsteps of modern tortures in singing, asyou may see sufficiently in all our theatres, or, indeed, may experienceyourselves in numberless German songs. Apply also to singing what I havejust said about piano-playing: as you should choose for the piano musicsuited to the piano, so for your studies in singing select only thatwhich is adapted to the voice; under the guidance of prudent andeducated teachers, not of modern voice breakers, who allow you toscream, "in order to bring out the voice. " When you have acquired a goodtechnique, when your attack is sure, and a certain skilfulness insinging has been developed, then only you may try, by way of experiment, a few pieces of such spirited but unskilled song composers, whofrequently commit sins in every line against correct representation, theregister of the voice, the breathings, the pronunciation, and a hundredother things. Look around and see who sing these so-called classical songs. They areeither singers who do not know what singing is, and who have no tastefor it, which, in consequence of their education, they never can have;or those who no longer have any voice, and accordingly sing every thing, or, rather, declaim it, because they cannot sing. I recommend you tosing (to mention the names of two only of our most excellent songcomposers) the charming songs of Fr. Schubert and Mendelssohn, who, inconstant intercourse with the most judicious masters of singing inVienna and Italy, have striven constantly to compose scientifically, andhave at the same time produced clever songs; but you should sing themnot too often, or too many of them. Singing in the German language, andin syllables, and often with clumsy melodies, requires a great deal ofvoice, and easily leads to many faults and to a false manner. Rememberhow strictly Jenny Lind selected, for performance in her concerts, thesongs of Schubert, Mendelssohn, and Schumann. In this way she succeededin winning great success, even with small, short songs. Finally, one more secret for performers, which weighs heavy in thebalance. You ought, especially if you have not received good earlyinstruction, to acquire a habit of moving the fingers very frequently, at every convenient opportunity; and particularly of letting them fallloosely and lightly upon any hard object, while the hand lies uponsomething firm, in an extended position. You must accustom yourselves to do this unconsciously. For example, while reading, at table, or while listening to music, allow your hand tolie upon the table, raise the fingers, and let them fall, one at a time, quite independently of the wrist; particularly the weak fourth and fifthfingers, which require to be used a hundred times more than the others, if you wish to acquire evenness in the scales. If it attracts attentionto do this on the table, then do it in your lap, or with one hand overthe other. To drum with your fingers and stretch your hands on the backsof other people is not often practicable, and is not necessary. That wasonly pardoned in the zealous and original Adolph Henselt, who, thoughotherwise such a modest and amiable artist, even now, in St. Petersburg, makes himself ridiculous in this way, by his practice of fingermovements. Now you perceive the reason why I cannot answer the question which hasbeen asked me innumerable times. How much do your daughters practise? Icannot count up the finger movements and the stray ten minutes justspoken of; but it is certain that they practise fewer hours in the daythan many thousands who learn nothing, for they never practise andnever have practised wrongly, but always correctly and advantageously. One thing more. After my experienced, watchful eye had observed in ourcircle many moving fingers in consequence of my lecture, a distinguishedlady of Vienna whispered in my ear: "But, my dear Herr Wieck, my Ameliais not to be a professional player: I only want her to learn a few ofthe less difficult sonatas of Beethoven, to play correctly and fluently, without notes. " My dear ladies, I do not aim with you at any thing morethan this. A great many circumstances must combine for the formation offine concert performers; in fact, the whole education, from the earliestyouth, must have reference to this end. If this were not so, Germanyespecially, on account of its natural musical talent, would be ableannually to furnish thousands of _virtuoso_ performers. Has my lecture been too long to-day? I ask your pardon. My desire tomake myself useful to you must be my excuse, if I cannot dispose of suchan extensive subject in a few words. I have not yet exhausted it. CHAPTER XII. THOUGHTS ON PIANO-PLAYING. My daughters play the music of all the principal composers, and also thebest salon music. Limited views of any kind are injurious to art. It isas great a mistake to play only Beethoven's music as to play none of it, or to play either classical or salon music solely. If a teacher confineshimself to the study of the first, a good technique, a tolerably soundstyle of playing, intelligence, and knowledge are generally sufficientto produce an interpretation in most respects satisfactory. The musicusually compensates for a style which may be, according tocircumstances, either dry, cold, too monotonous or too strongly shaded, and even for an indifferent or careless touch. Interest in thecomposition frequently diverts the attention of even the best playerfrom a thoroughly correct and delicate mode of execution, and from theeffort to enhance the beauty of the composition, and to increase itsappreciation with the hearer. In the performance of classical music, inspiration--that is, the revelation of an artistic nature and notempty affectation--can be expected only from an artist, and not from apupil. Therefore, with more advanced pupils, I take up in my lessons, inconnection with a sonata by Beethoven, a nocturne or waltz by Chopin, and a piece by St. Heller or Schulhoff, Henselt, C. Meyer, &c. Eleganceand polish, a certain coquetry, nicety, delicacy, and fine shadingcannot be perfected in the study of a sonata by Beethoven; for which, however, the latter pieces present much greater opportunities. Besidesthis, variety is much more sustaining to the learner; it excites hisinterest; he does not so soon become weary, and is guarded fromcarelessness; his artistic knowledge is increased, and he is agreeablysurprised to find himself able to perform three pieces so distinct incharacter. * * * * * "Expression cannot be taught, it must come of itself. " But when are weto look for it? When the stiff fingers are fifty or sixty years old, andthe expression is imprisoned in them, so that nothing is ever to beheard of it? This is a wide-spread delusion. Let us look at a few ofthose to whom expression has come of itself. X. Plays skilfully andcorrectly, but his expression continues crude, cold, monotonous; heshows too pedantic a solicitude about mechanical execution and stricttime; he never ventures on a _pp. _, uses too little shading in _piano_, and plays the _forte_ too heavily, and without regard to the instrument;his _crescendi_ and _diminuendi_ are inappropriate, often coarse andbrought in at unsuitable places; and--his _ritardandi_! they are tediousindeed! "But Miss Z. Plays differently and more finely. " Truly, sheplays differently; but is it more finely? Do you like this gentle violetblue, this sickly paleness, these rouged falsehoods, at the expense ofall integrity of character? this sweet, embellished, languishing style, this _rubato_ and dismembering of the musical phrases, this want oftime, and this sentimental trash? They both have talent, but theirexpression was allowed to be developed of itself. They both would havebeen very good players; but now they have lost all taste for the ideal, which manifests itself in the domain of truth, beauty, and simplicity. If pupils are left to themselves, they imitate the improper anderroneous easily and skilfully; the right and suitable with difficulty, and certainly unskilfully. Even the little fellow who can hardly speaklearns to use naughty, abusive words more quickly and easily than fine, noble expressions. What school-master has not been surprised at thisfacility, and what good old aunt has not laughed at it? But you say, "Itis not right to force the feelings of others!" That is quiteunnecessary; but it is possible to rouse the feelings of others, toguide and educate them, without prejudicing their individuality offeeling, and without restraining or disturbing them, unless they are onthe wrong path. Who has not listened to performers and singers who wereotherwise musical, but whose sentiment was either ridiculous orlamentable? * * * * * It is generally acknowledged that, among other things, I have succeededmore or less with all my scholars in the attainment of a fine touch. People desire to obtain from me the requisite exercises for thedevelopment of this; but not much can be gained from these. Theimportant thing is _how_ and _when_ they are to be used; and that mostcareful attention shall be paid in the selection of other études andpieces, in order that nothing shall be played which shall endanger theconfirmation of the correct touch already acquired, or shall undo whathas been accomplished in the lessons. As I have said before, it does notdepend upon much practising, but upon correct practising; and that thepupils shall not be allowed to fall into errors. I am constantly asked, "How many hours a day do your daughters practise?" If the number ofhours spent in practising gives the measure of the standing of a_virtuoso_, then my daughters are among the most insignificant, or infact should not belong to the order at all. This is the place for me to explain myself more fully with regard toplaying with a loose wrist, in order that I shall not be misunderstood. The tones which are produced with a loose wrist are always more tenderand more attractive, have a fuller sound, and permit more delicateshading than the sharp tones, without body, which are thrown or firedoff or tapped out with unendurable rigidity by the aid of the arm andfore-arm. A superior technique can with few exceptions be more quicklyand favorably acquired in this way than when the elbows are required tocontribute their power. I do not, however, censure the performance ofmany _virtuosos_, who execute rapid octave passages with a stiff wrist;they often do it with great precision, in the most rapid _tempo_, forcibly and effectively. It must, after all, depend upon individualpeculiarities whether the pupil can learn better and more quickly toplay such passages thus or with a loose wrist. The present style ofbravoura playing for _virtuosos_ cannot dispense with facility in octavepassages; it is a necessary part of it. I will now consider the use of loose and independent fingers, in playinggenerally; _i. E. _, in that of more advanced pupils who have alreadyacquired the necessary elementary knowledge. The fingers must be setupon the keys with a certain decision, firmness, quickness, and vigor, and must obtain a command over the key-board; otherwise, the result isonly a tame, colorless, uncertain, immature style of playing, in whichno fine _portamento_, no poignant _staccato_, or sprightly accentuationcan be produced. Every thoughtful teacher, striving for the best result, must, however, take care that this shall only be acquired gradually, andmust teach it with a constant regard to individual peculiarities, andnot at the expense of beauty of performance, and of a tender, agreeabletouch. * * * * * It is a mortifying fact for many critics, artists, composers, andteachers, that the general public show much more correct judgment andappreciation of a fine, noble piano performance, and of a simple, pure, well-taught style of singing, and also understand the characteristicsof the performer, much more quickly than they do. The sensibility andappreciation of beauty with the public is less prejudiced, lessspurious, more receptive, and more artless. Its perceptions are notdisturbed by theories, by a desire to criticise, and many othersecondary matters. The public do not take a biassed or stilted view. Theadmiration for Jenny Lind is a striking proof of this, as is also theappreciation of many piano-players. * * * * * The age of progress announces, in piano-playing also, "a higher beauty"than has hitherto existed. Now, I demand of all the defenders of thisnew style, wherein is this superior beauty supposed to consist? It isuseless to talk, in a vague way, about a beauty which no one canexplain. I have listened to the playing--no, the thrumming andstamping--of many of these champions of the modern style of beauty; andI have come to the conclusion, according to my way of reasoning, that itought to be called a higher, --quite different, inverted beauty, --adeformed beauty, repugnant to the sensibilities of all mankind. But ourgifted "age of the future" protests against such cold conservatism. Theperiod of piano fury which I have lived to see, and which I have justdescribed, was the introduction to this new essay, only a feebleattempt, and a preliminary to this piano future. Should this senselessraging and storming upon the piano, where not one idea can beintelligently expressed in a half-hour, this abhorrent and rudetreatment of a grand concert piano, combined with frightful misuse ofboth pedals, which puts the hearer into agonies of horror and spasms ofterror, ever be regarded as any thing but a return to barbarism, devoidof feeling and reason? This is to be called music! music of the future!the beauty of the future style! Truly, for this style of music, the earsmust be differently constructed, the feelings must be differentlyconstituted, and a different nervous system must be created! For thisagain we shall need surgeons, who lie in wait in the background with thethroat improvers. What a new and grand field of operations lies open tothem! Our age produces monsters, who are insensible to the plainesttruths, and who fill humanity with horror. Political excesses havehardly ceased, when still greater ones must be repeated in the world ofmusic. But comfort yourselves, my readers: these isolated instances ofmadness, these last convulsions of musical insanity, with however mucharrogance they may be proclaimed, will not take the world by storm. Thetime will come when no audience, not even eager possessors ofcomplimentary tickets, but only a few needy hirelings, will venture toendure such concert performances of "the future. " * * * * * I ought to express myself more fully with regard to expression inpiano-playing. It is difficult to perform this task, at least inwriting; for it can more easily be practically explained to individuallearners. Intelligent teachers, who are inclined to understand mymeaning, will find abundant material, as well as all necessaryexplanations, in the preceding chapters; and I will merely say that ateacher who is endowed with the qualities which I have designated as"the three trifles" will seek to excite the same in his pupils; willrefine and cultivate them, according to his ability, withdisinterestedness, with energy, and with perseverance; and truth andbeauty will everywhere be the result. Thus he will remain in thepresent, where there is so much remaining to be accomplished. Thesethree trifles certainly do not have their root in folly, want of talent, and hare-brained madness; therefore the possessors of the latter mustlook to the "future, " and proclaim a "higher, " that is, an "invertedbeauty. " _Rules for Piano Pupils. _ You must never begin to learn a second piece until you have entirelyconquered the first. You ought to fix your eyes very carefully on the notes, and not to trustto memory; otherwise, you will never learn to play at sight. In order to avoid the habit of false fingering, you should not play anypiece which is not marked for the proper fingers. You should learn to play chords and skipping notes, without looking atthe keys, as this interferes with a prompt reading of the notes. You must learn to count nicely in playing, in order always to keepstrict time. To use for once the language of the times, which boldly proclaims, "Suchthings as these belong to a stand-point which we have already reached, "I wish that the musicians of "the future" may as happily reach their"stand-point, " not by hollow phrases and flourishes, and the threshingof empty straws, but by practical, successful efforts, and striving forthat which is better. * * * * * "What is the value of your method, in the instruction of pupils who havefor years played many pieces from notes, but have played them badly, and whom we are called upon to lead into a better way of playing?" A reply to this frequent inquiry can be found in my first chapter. Aboveall things, let the notes which have already been played be laid asidefor a long time; for a mistaken style of playing these has become soconfirmed that to improve them is hopeless, and the tottering edificemust fall to the ground. First, improve the touch; help to acquire abetter and more connected scale; teach the formation of differentcadences on the dominant and sub-dominant; and the construction ofvarious passages on the chord of the diminished seventh, to be playedwith correct, even, and quiet fingering, _legato_ and _staccato_, _piano_, and _forte_; pay strict attention to the use of loose fingersand a loose wrist; and allow no inattentive playing. You may soon takeup, with these studies, some entirely unfamiliar piece of music, suitedto the capacity of the pupil. It is not possible or desirable to attemptto make a sudden and thorough change with such pupils, even if theyshould show the best intentions and docility. You should select a light, easy piece of salon music, but of a nature well adapted to the piano, which shall not be wearisome to the pupil, and in the improvedperformance of which he will take pleasure. But, if you still find thathe falls into the old, faulty manner of playing, and that the recentlyacquired technique, which has not yet become habitual, is endangered byit, lay this too aside, and take instead some appropriate étude, orperhaps a little prelude by Bach. If, in the place of these, you choosefor instruction a ponderous sonata, in which the music would distractthe attention of the pupil from the improved technique, you give up themost important aim of your instruction, and occupy yourself withsecondary matters; you will censure and instruct in vain, and will neverattain success. You must consider, reflect, and give your mind to thepeculiar needs of the pupil, and you must teach in accordance with thelaws of psychology. You will succeed after a while, but precipitation, compulsion, and disputes are useless. The improvement of a sopranovoice, ruined by over-screaming, requires prudence, patience, calmness, and modesty, and a character of a high type generally. It is also a verythankless task, and success is rare; while on the piano a fair resultmay always be accomplished. * * * * * I return once more to the subject so frequently discussed, that I maytry to relieve the universal difficulty of our lady pianists. I haveheard much playing of late, in parties both small and large, onwell-tuned and on ill-tuned pianos, on those with which the performerwas familiar, and on those to which she was unaccustomed; from the timidand the self-possessed; from ladies of various ages, possessed of moreor of less talent, and in various cities: the result was always thesame. We hear from the ladies that they could play their pieces at home beforetheir parents or their teachers; but this is never sufficient to enablethem to save their hearers from weariness, anxiety, and all sorts ofembarrassment. My honored ladies, you play over and over again twomazourkas, two waltzes, two nocturnes, and the Funeral March of Chopin, the Mazourka and other pieces by Schulhoff, the Trill-Etude, and theTremolo by Carl Meyer, &c. : "it makes no difference to you which. " Youmight be able to master these pieces pretty well, but, instead of this, you yourselves are mastered. You become embarrassed, and your hearersstill more so: the affair ends with apologies on both sides, withequivocal compliments, with encouragement to continue in the samecourse, with acknowledgment of fine hands for the piano, with uneasy, forced congratulations to the parents and teacher; but it is always ahappy moment when the fatal soirée is over. The next day I am forced tosigh again over the same, miserable, poorly and tediously performedFuneral March of Chopin, and over the timorous B major Mazourka bySchulhoff. The left hand is always left in the lurch in the difficult, skipping basses of this piece, and in others of the present style, whichare rich in harmony and modulations. The bass part in this piece is aptto suffer from timid and false tones; frequently the fundamental tone isomitted, or the little finger remains resting upon it, instead of givingthe eighth note with a crisp, elastic, and sprightly touch, and thechords are tame and incomplete. You do not give them their full value;you leave them too quickly, because you are afraid of not striking thenext low note quickly enough; but, on the other hand, you do not strikeit at all, and one missing tone brings another one after it. The righthand, being the most skilful, is supposed to play with expression, andreally does so; but this only makes the performance the worse. Thefundamental tone is wanting, and you are led to make a mistake in theskip, and strike the wrong key. Finally, the whole thing is ended interror. I have an uneasy night; I dream of your fine hands, but thefalse and the weak notes start up between like strange spectres or willo' the wisps, and I wake with the headache, instead of with pleasantmemories. Allow me to give you a piece of advice. Play and practise the bass parta great deal and very often, first slowly, then quicker, during one ortwo weeks, before playing the right hand with it, in order that you maygive your whole attention to playing the bass correctly, delicately, andsurely. Even when you can get through the mazourka tolerably well, youmust not think, on that account, that you will be able to play it incompany, under trying circumstances. You ought to be able to play thepiece by yourself with ease, very frequently, perfectly, and distinctly, and in very rapid _tempo_, before you trust yourself to perform it evenslowly in company. At least, practise the more difficult passages forthe right hand very frequently, particularly the difficult and boldconclusion, that it may not strike the hearer as rough, weak, tame, orhurried. It is an old rule, "If you begin well and end well, all iswell. " You ought to practise the skipping bass over and over again byitself, otherwise it will not go. An incorrect or deficient bass, without depth of tone and without accentuation, ruins every thing, eventhe good temper of the hearer. One thing more: you know very wellChopin's Nocturne in E flat, and have played it, among other things, forthe last four weeks. Suddenly you are called upon to play in company. You choose this Nocturne because you have played it nearly every day forfour weeks. But alas! the piano fiends have come to confuse you! Youstrike a false bass note, and at the modulation the weak little fingertouches too feebly: bah! the fundamental tone is wanting. You arefrightened, and grow still more so; your musical aunt is frightenedalso; the blood rushes to your teacher's face, and I mutter to myself, "_C'est toujours la même. _" The present style of skipping bassesrequires a great deal of practice and perfect security; it is necessaryfor you to know the piece by heart, in order to give your wholeattention to the left hand. It is also essential that you shall haveacquired a clear, sound touch; otherwise, you cannot give a delicateaccent and shading. You must never allow yourself, _without previouspreparation_, to play those pieces of music in company, in which anelegant mode of execution is all-important; otherwise, you will be takenby surprise by unexpected difficulties. You must always pay specialattention to the fundamental tones, even if there should beimperfections elsewhere. Where one fault is less important than another, of two evils choose the least. You have been playing now for six oreight years: are you repaid for the trouble, if it only enables you toprepare embarrassments for others? You are not willing to play easy, insignificant pieces; and such pieces as you choose require industry, earnestness, and perseverance. * * * * * Young ladies, it is easy to discover the character of a person from hismanner of standing, walking, moving, and speaking, from the way he bows, puts on and takes off his hat, or the arrangements of the household; andwe seldom are in error about it. It is also possible to infer beforehandhow you will play and what sort of a performance you will give, from themanner in which you take your seat at the piano. You sidle up to thepiano lazily, bent over in a constrained manner; in your embarrassment, you place yourself before the one-lined or two-lined _c_, instead ofbefore _f_; you sit unsteadily, either too high or too low, only half onthe seat, leaning either too much to the right or to the left; in aword, as if you did not belong to the fatal music-stool. Your mannerawakens no confidence, and in this way announces that you have noneyourself. How do you expect to exercise control over a grand sevenoctave piano, if you do not sit exactly in the middle, with the bodyerect and the feet on the two pedals? You are not willing to look thefriend straight in the face, with whom you are to carry on a friendly, confidential discourse! Even if your attitude and bearing were not soinjurious and dangerous for the performer as it is, still propriety andgood sense would require that you should excite the confidence of yourhearers in you and in your playing by a correct position of the body, and by a certain decision and resolution, and should prepare him to forma good opinion of you. There are, indeed, many _virtuosos_ who think they give evidence ofgenius, by throwing themselves on to the music-stool in a slovenly, lounging manner, and try to show in this way their superiority to apainstaking performance, and to make up by a showy _nonchalance_ forwhat is wanting in their playing. You are, however, a stranger to suchassertion of superior genius, and to such an expression of intensity offeeling; you do it only from embarrassment, and from a modest want ofconfidence in your own powers, which is quite unnecessary. Our greatmasters, such as Field, Hummel, Moscheles, Mendelssohn, and others, hadno taste for such improprieties, for such manifestations of genius. Theyapplied themselves to their task with earnest devotion, and with respectfor the public. CHAPTER XIII. ON MUSICAL TALENT. A large and varied experience is required for a correct estimate ofmusical talent in the young. Do not be deceived by the early evidencesof talent; for instance, interest in melodies, correct feeling for time, an instinct for accenting the important notes, inclination for somepeculiar though often perverted style of performance, quickapprehension, a natural aptitude for playing, a nice hearing, animation, rapid progress, docility, superficial gayety; even if all or a part ofthese traits are observable in early youth, they must not excite toosanguine hopes. I have often met with such phenomena, and have beencalled upon to educate such little piano prodigies. They advanced quiterapidly, and understood every thing readily, if I did not make too muchdemand upon their wavering attention. I dreamed of the extraordinarysurprises that these marvellous youths would create at twelve orfourteen years of age; but the fulfilment of my ideal I saw only in mymind's eye, for just then the improvement came to a suddenstand-still, --a fatal moment, when the teacher is perplexed to know whatto do next. The musical nature seemed to have exhausted itself, to haveout-lived itself. The pupil even felt this: his interest in the pianoand in music generally grew feeble, his playing suddenly becamecareless, powerless, spiritless; he played with evident indifference. Out into the fresh air! into open natural scenes! Now for a journey! Iallowed a long vacation to intervene; the pupil was quite contented, andhad no desire for the piano, or, if so, only jingled a little. At lastwe began again, but we spent our time without much result; he wasnevertheless still musical, but he finally ranked at best with dozens ofother players, and ended as an ordinary piano teacher. Similar halts inprogress occur in fact with all pupils, especially with female scholars;but they are not usually so lasting, so discouraging, or so significantof exhaustion. They are surmounted, after a short interval, by thediscontinuance of serious musical studies; perhaps by reading at sightfor a while; by occupying the pupil for a time with the theory, or withattempts at composition or improvisation; by allowing him to listen toother players better or worse; by giving him interesting books to read;by making him acquainted with Beethoven, or in other ways. From our observation of such sudden changes, and of the frequentoccurrence of unskilful management, we can explain the sudden appearanceand equally sudden disappearance of innumerable infant prodigies in ourage, who have excited hopes, and have almost all of them been lost, orhave passed out of sight, and resulted in nothing of value. I have always preferred a gradual, even a slow development, step bystep, which often made no apparent progress, but which still proceededwith a certain constancy, and with deliberation, and which was combinedwith dreamy sensibility and a musical instinct, requiring slowawakening, and even with a certain flightiness, one for which thepatient labor and perseverance of six years or more was required, andwhere childishness allowed no encouragement to sordid speculations forthe future. In such cases, when my instructions were not disturbed byuntoward circumstances, the result has always been a desirable one. Buthow much patience and perseverance has this required! I have reflectedmuch and have often spoken, both seriously and playfully, of the slowadvancement of my pupils. Allow me here to describe five phases orstages of human development. _First Stage. _ In the first two or three years, man is far behind theanimal, whose quick instinct distinguishes the good from the bad, theuseful from the injurious. The child, without hesitation, rolls off thetable, or knocks his brains out, or destroys himself with poisonousherbs or arsenic. Nevertheless, let him at that age hear plenty of puresounds, music, singing, &c. He will soon learn to listen, like thelittle black poodle. He already has a dim suspicion that other thingsexist which are not evil, besides mamma, papa, the nurse, the doll, andthe sound of words. _Second Stage. _ From the fourth to the seventh year, instinct isdeveloped; which, in the animal, surprises the observer in the first twoweeks of life. Now we should begin with the technique, at least with thecorrect movement of the fingers upon the table. The child should be toldthat he shall soon produce the pleasant tones, which he has beenaccustomed to hear from infancy; but that for this a quick and quietmovement of the fingers is necessary, which must be acquired by dailypractice. This is entirely in accordance with nature, for man isappointed to learn. Let the child lay his hand upon the table, andknock upon it with the first finger (_i. E. _, the thumb) stretched out, without using the muscles of the arm, then with the second, third, andfourth fingers, in an almost perpendicular position, and with the fifthfinger extended. Then let him strike a third with the first and thirdfingers together; a fourth, with the first and fourth fingers; firstwith the right hand, then with the left hand, and afterwards with bothtogether, &c. _Third Stage. _ From the seventh to the twelfth year. At this stageunruliness makes its appearance, and at the same time--the notes; butnot Beethoven. That would indeed be an unfortunate musical indulgence. Violent outbreaks of untamed strength; unexpected freaks; alternationsof rude instinct and quick intelligence, of lofty fancy and artlesssimplicity; disobedience; much appetite, &c. , --all these must be shaped, and made subservient to the object we have in view. Do you understandme, gentlemen? _Fourth Stage. _ Excellent parents, who desire to see the ripe fruits ofyour care and labor, have patience! First there comes the foreshadowingof manhood, --a very interesting period. The youth steps out of theanimal into the human kingdom, and often is unable to forget hisearlier condition, but revels in sweet remembrance of it. Try now, gently and timidly, Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann, and the like. Thisextraordinary being, "one-fourth animal and three-fourths human, "requires to be awakened, excited, and to have the imagination aroused;and, above all, requires the most careful guidance. It is necessary tostir and agitate the nature, in order that reflection, conscience, thesensibilities of the soul, feeling, creative power, and all inwardconditions shall be developed; and that out of this chaos shall bebrought a clear and beautiful order. _Fifth Stage. _ The adult man in his eighteenth year. The year, however, varies with individuals, and can be modified at will. If I should enterinto details of the four earlier stages of humanity, and treat inaddition of the adult man, I should be obliged to write a philosophicalwork on the subject, and that might not be entertaining. I should beobliged to beg your indulgence for a tedious book, and my daughterscertainly would not thank me for it; they are very sensitive. But Imust, nevertheless, secretly whisper in your ear that "my daughters, like the daughters of many others, have been carried through these fivestages in the most careful and thorough manner. " I ought to know thatbest. Here you have the answer to many strange questions. _Cautions. _ I warn pianists, and others also, in playing: 1. Against any showy and unsuitable display. Why should you wish toattract attention, and to create an effect by foppishness and all sortsof grimaces, or by curious and marvellous exhibitions of_virtuoso_-ship? You have only to play musically and beautifully, and todeport yourselves with modesty and propriety. Direct your wholeattention to the business in hand, --that is, to your performance; andendeavor to secure for it the interest of the public, who are so easilyrendered inattentive. We want no more public performances from eccentricgeniuses. 2. Do not devote yourself exclusively to pieces calculated to show theskill of the performer. Why desire always to show off your power inoctave passages, your trills, your facility in skips, your unprecedentedstretches, or other fantastic feats? You only produce weariness, satiety, and disgust, or, at least, you make yourselves ridiculous. 3. Play good music in a musical and rational manner. The public aretired of hearing Potpourris, made up of odds and ends, tedious Etudes, Rhapsodies, Fantasias without fancy, dismal monotonies and endless, cheap, silly cadences that mean nothing. Learn to understand the age, and the world in which you live. 4. Do not make yourselves ridiculous by new inventions in piano-playing. I mention, for example, one of the most foolish affectations of moderntimes. You try to quiver on a note, just as violin and 'cello playersare unfortunately too much inclined to do. Do not expose yourselves tothe derision of every apprentice in piano manufacture. Have you nounderstanding of the construction of the piano? You have played upon it, or have, some of you, stormed upon it, for the last ten years; and yetyou have not taken pains to obtain even a superficial acquaintance withits mechanism. The hammer, which by its stroke upon the string hasproduced the sound, falls immediately when the tone resounds; and afterthat you may caress the key which has set the hammer in motion, fidgetround on it as much as you please, and stagger up and down over it, inyour intoxicated passion, --no more sound is to be brought out from it, with all your trembling and quivering. It is only the public who arequivering with laughter at your absurdity. 5. Give up the practice of extreme stretches. Widely dispersed harmoniesmay sometimes produce a good effect, but not by too frequent and tooeager an employment of them at every opportunity. Even the greatestbeauties in art can lead to mannerism, and this again to one-sidedness. Art should be many-sided, and you must never produce the impression thatyou are inclined to make the means an end. I beg you to reflect that toomuch practice of very wide stretches enfeebles the muscles and the powerof the hand and fingers, endangers an even, sound touch, and makes thebest style of playing a doubtful acquisition. Teachers ought thereforeto use great prudence, and only gradually to permit their pupils, especially young girls, to practise great extensions and wide stretches. To learn to be able to strike ten notes is quite enough. 6. Before you perform a piece, play a few suitable chords, and a fewappropriate passages or scales up and down (but play no stupid trash, such as I have heard from many _virtuosos_), in order to try whether thecondition of the instrument presents any unexpected difficulties. Trycarefully also the unavoidable pedal. A creaking, rattling, gratingpedal is a frightful annoyance; I wonder if the piano of "the future" isto suffer from this also. Chopin's Funeral March, with obligatoaccompaniment of a squeaking pedal sentiment, even although theomissions and mistakes in the bass do not occur, --alas! who can describethe effect of this melancholy march? 7. I have written a special article on the manner of sitting at thepiano, and I will refer you once more to that. 8. Use no mechanical aids in practising, not even the dumb key-board;although, with very careful use, that is not without value. Strengthwill come with time; do not try to hurry nature. The table is the best"dumb key-board, " as I have already explained. The "hand-guide" is alsounnecessary: its value is compensated by its disadvantages. 9. Do not let your hearers crowd too near while you are playing. Do notplay the same piece _da capo_. You may be justified in breaking off inthe midst of a piece, if there is loud and continuous talking, &c. I hope you will give me the honor of your company again at my soirées: Iam no writer of comedies, but I can tell you a great deal that isinteresting and amusing which I have myself experienced. CHAPTER XIV. EXTRAVAGANCES IN SINGING AND PIANO-PLAYING. _(An Evening Party at Mr. Gold's. )_ DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. MR. GOLD, _the banker (fond of music). _MRS. GOLD _(sings, and is an invalid. )_MR. SILVER, _bookkeeper (formerly a singer with Strauss). _MR. PIOUS, _a friend of the family (a musical impostor, and a hypocritegenerally). _MR. FORTE, _a foreign piano virtuoso (of weak nerves). _DOMINIE, _a piano-teacher. _EMMA, _his daughter. _ (_Mrs. Gold has just been singing in the modern Italian manner; suddenly alternating exaggerated high and low tones, given in a jerking manner, with inaudible _pianissimo_ in the throat, and quavering on every note, with many ornaments, and always a quarter of a tone too flat. She sang all the four verses of "Fondly I Think of Thee" by Krebs. _) DOMINIE. Will you not go on, Mrs. Gold? The piano is a little too high, and you are obliged to accustom yourself a little to it. MRS. GOLD. I cannot sing any more. That beautiful song has taken suchhold of me, and I feel so badly. (_Whispers to Dominie. _) Mr. Forte didnot accompany me well, either: sometimes he did not come in right, andplayed too feebly; and sometimes he improvised too much in playing, andoverpowered my voice, which is a little weak just now. DOMINIE (_aside to Emma_). What an evening of singing! Oh dear! MR. GOLD (_who has been earnestly talking about stocks all the eveningin an adjoining room, rushes in, but rather late, after the close of thesong, and impetuously presses his wife's hand_). Marvellous!magnificent! delicious! wonderful! My dear, you are in excellent voicethis evening. If Jenny Lind could only have heard you! MR. PIOUS. Charming! superb! how touching! There is a religiouscharacter in this piece, something holy about it! I beg of you, do singthat air by Voss, "True Happiness. " That will make our enjoymentcomplete; it is truly ravishing! There is something divine in singing, and your expression, your feeling, Madam! You give yourself up soentirely to the composition! (_Mrs. Gold has already taken up "True Happiness, " and can hardly wait while Mr. Forte murmurs off the introduction, quite after his own fancy, with a sentimental _piano_. Mr. Pious drops a tear at the close of the introduction, the four bars of which have been transformed into eight bars by the great _virtuoso_. During the tremulous, affected performance of "True Happiness, " Mr. Pious rolls up his moistened eyes; and, at the end of the first verse, where the accompanist once more gives the reins to his fancy, he says, "I am speechless, I cannot find words to express my emotion!"_) DOMINIE (_aside to Emma_). That you may call forged sentiment, thecounterfeit of feeling. You hear now how one ought _not_ to sing. For anearnest, true musician, such a warmth in singing is only emptyaffectation, disgusting, sentimental rubbish, and hollow dissimulation. You will, however, frequently meet with such amateur infelicities. (_Mrs. Gold has finished singing all the verses of "True Happiness, " and seems now to have almost entirely recovered. Mr. Gold continues to converse about stocks in the adjoining room. Dominie remains with Emma at the end of the parlor, depressed and worried. _) MR. FORTE (_keeps his seat at the piano, and says in French to Mrs. Gold_). Madam, you have reached the climax of the beautiful in music. Icount it one of the happiest moments of my artistic tour to be allowedto breathe out my soul at the piano, in the presence of one likeyourself. What a loss, that your position must prevent you fromelevating the German opera to its former greatness, as its most radiantstar! MRS. GOLD (_by this time quite well_). I must confess that Jenny Lindnever quite satisfied me when she was here. She is, and must alwaysremain, a Swede, --utterly cold. If she had been educated here, she wouldhave listened to more passionate models than in Stockholm, and thatwould have given the true direction to her sensibility. MR. FORTE. You are quite right; you have a just estimate of her. InParis, where she might have heard such examples, she lived in perfectretirement. I was giving concerts there at the time; but she refused tosing in my concerts, and therefore she did not even hear me. MR. SILVER (_whom the excitement of the singing has at length reached_). Do you feel inclined now, Madam, to execute with me the duet from "TheCreation, " between Adam and Eve? MRS. GOLD. Here is "The Creation, " but we will sing it by and by. Mr. Forte is just going to play us his latest composition for the left hand, and some of the music of that romantic, deeply sensitive Chopin. MR. GOLD (_rushes in from his stock discussion_). Oh, yes! Chopin's Bmajor mazourka! That was also played at my house by Henselt, Thalberg, and Dreyschock. Oh, it is touching! ALL (_except Mr. Silver, Dominie, and Emma_). Oh, how touching! DOMINIE (_to his daughter_). If he plays it in the same manner in whichhe accompanied "True Happiness, " you will hear how this mazourka should_not_ be played. It, by the way, is not at all _touching_: it givesquite boldly the Polish dance rhythm, as it is improvised by thepeasants in that country; but it is, however, idealized after Chopin'smanner. (_Mr. Forte plays several perilous runs up and down with various octave passages, all the time keeping his foot on the pedal; and connects with these immediately, and without a pause, the mazourka, which he commences _presto_. He played it without regard to time or rhythm, but with a constant _rubato_, and unmusical jerks. A few notes were murmured indistinctly _pp. _, and played very _ritardando_; then suddenly a few notes were struck very rapidly and with great force, so that the strings rattled; and the final B major chord cost the life of one string. _) MR. GOLD. Excellent! bravissimo! What a comprehension of the piece! Suchartistic performances make one even forget the stock-exchange! MRS. GOLD. You agitate my inmost nerves! The English poet, Pope, holdsthat no created man can penetrate the secrets of nature; but you havepenetrated the secrets of my soul. Now do play at once the F sharp minormazourka, opus 6. MR. PIOUS. What a musical evening Mrs. Gold has prepared for us! Whatsublime sorrow lies in this production! MR. SILVER (_aside_). What would Father Strauss say to this affected, unmusical performance, that bids defiance to all good taste? DOMINIE. Mrs. Gold, it would be well to send for the tuner to replacethis broken B string. The next one will break soon, for it is alreadycracked, and its tone is fallen. MR. FORTE (_with a superior air_). It is of no consequence. Thatfrequently happens to me; but I never mind it. The piano is abattle-field where there must be sacrifices. DOMINIE (_whispers to Emma_). He thinks that if the sound is notmusical, still it makes a noise; and tones out of tune produce moreeffect than those that are pure. EMMA. Where did he learn piano-playing? DOMINIE. My child, he has not _learned_ it. That is genius, which comesof itself. Instruction would have fettered his genius, and then he wouldhave played distinctly, correctly, unaffectedly, and in time; but thatwould be too much like the style of an amateur. This uncontrolledhurly-burly, which pays no regard to time, is called the soaring ofgenius. (_Mr. Forte storms through various unconnected chords with the greatest rapidity, with the pedal raised; and passes without pause to the F sharp minor mazourka. He accents vehemently, divides one bar and gives it two extra quarter notes, and from the next bar he omits a quarter note, and continues in this manner with extreme self-satisfaction till he reaches the close; and then, after a few desperate chords of the diminished seventh, he connects with it Liszt's Transcription of Schubert's Serenade in D minor. The second string of the two-lined b snaps with a rattle, and there ensues a general whispering "whether the piece is by Mendelssohn, or Döhler, or Beethoven, or Proch, or Schumann, " until finally Mr. Silver mentions Schubert's Serenade. Mr. Forte concludes with the soft pedal, which in his inspired moments he had already made frequent use of. _) DOMINIE (_to Emma_). You should never play in company, withoutmentioning previously what you are going to perform. You observe, assoon as the Serenade was mentioned, it put a stop to the guessing. ALL (_except Mr. Silver and Dominie_). What a glorious performance! whatan artistic treat! MRS. GOLD. What spirituality in his playing! MR. SILVER (_asking Mr. Forte for information_). I noticed, in theSerenade, you made only one bar of the two where it modulates to Fmajor, in your rapid playing of the passage. Was that accidental? EMMA (_aside_). He ought to have played a little slower just there. MR. FORTE. In such beautiful passages, every thing must be left to thesuggestion of one's feelings. Perhaps another time I may make threebars, just as inspiration and genius may intimate. Those are æstheticsurprises. Henselt, Moscheles, Thalberg, and Clara Wieck do not executein that manner, and consequently can produce no effect, and do nottravel. DOMINIE (_to Emma_). I hope that your natural taste and your musicaleducation will preserve you from such preposterous extravagances. EMMA. Such playing makes one feel quite uncomfortable and worried. Probably that is what you call "devilish modern"? DOMINIE. Yes. EMMA. But do people like it? DOMINIE. Certainly: a great many people do. It has the superior air ofgenius, and sounds very original. (_Mrs. Gold has "The Creation" in her hand, and Mr. Silver leads her to the piano for the execution of the grand duet between Adam and Eve. Mr. Forte is exhausted, and Dominie plays the accompaniment. Mr. Silver sings intelligently and unaffectedly; Mrs. Gold, as before, but with still less regard to time, and more out of tune; but she tries to compensate for this by introducing very long ornaments at the _fermate_ in the _allegro_, sung with her thin, piercing, over-strained voice; and she frequently rolls up her black eyes. At the conclusion, Mrs. Gold was led to the arm-chair, in great exhaustion of feeling. _) MR. PIOUS. The divine art of music celebrates its perfect triumph insuch interpretations of Haydn. Mrs. Gold, were those delicious _fermate_of your own invention? MRS. GOLD. NO: the charming Viardot-Garcia first introduced them asRosina in "The Barber of Seville, " and I had them written down by amusician in the theatre. But the employment of them in this duet is myown idea. I have already surprised and delighted a great many peoplewith them in parties. The grand, rushing, chromatic scale with which theartistic Garcia astonishes every one, when acting the dreaming, faintingAmina in "La Somnambula, " I introduce in the grand aria of the divine"Prophet;" rather timidly, it is true, for the boldness of a Garcia canonly be acquired on the stage. EMMA. But, father, Jenny Lind sang in this duet in Vienna, quite simply, and with a pure religious spirit. DOMINIE. That is the reason Mrs. Gold says that Jenny Lind sings toocoldly, and ought to listen to more passionate models. But we will talkmore about this at home. MRS. GOLD. Now, Mr. Dominie, will not your daughter Emma play us somelittle trifle? Afterwards I will execute with Mr. Silver, "By thy lovingkindness, O Lord, " and a few duets by Kücken, and finish, if the companywishes, with the "Grâce" aria. DOMINIE. Will you allow me first to replace this broken string? (_After Dominie has finished, Mr. Forte strides up to the piano, and plays his Etude for the left hand, with the right hand extended towards the company. _) DOMINIE (_to Mr. Forte, after the conclusion of the piece_). Would itnot have been easier and more to the purpose, if you had used bothhands? MR. FORTE. We must forgive old people such pedantic observations. Youentirely mistake my stand-point. Do you not see that I am standing withone foot in the future? Are you not aware that the public wish not onlyto listen, but to see something strange? Do you not perceive also thatmy appearance of ill-health produces a great musical effect? MR. PIOUS. Do you not feel the special charm and the fine effect whichis produced by the left hand playing alone, and no less by the righthand extended? DOMINIE. Is it so? Well, probably feeling has taken a false directionwith me. I shall be obliged to accustom myself to such Parisian flightsof sentiment. (_Emma played Chopin's Ballad in A flat major, after Dominie had previously announced it. The company were attentive. _) MR. FORTE (_at the conclusion_). Bravo! A very good beginning, Mr. Dominie. I am sorry that I am obliged to take leave now: I am obliged togo to two more soirées this evening, and have many letters ofintroduction to deliver. MR. SILVER. Miss Emma, I have just heard that you play finely a greatdeal of Chopin's music. Let us hear his two latest nocturnes. MRS. GOLD (_to Emma_). Have you heard the famous Camilla Pleyel playKalkbrenner's charming D minor concerto? Do you not also play suchbrilliant music? for example, Döhler's beautiful, pathetic Notturno in Dflat. Mr. X. Lately played that to us enchantingly. EMMA. I know it. I am teaching it to my little sister, Cecilia. DOMINIE. Will you allow her now to play Chopin's two nocturnes, Opus48? * * * * * I will say nothing about the conclusion of the singing, --the "Grâce"aria. At midnight there was a grand supper, washed down with sweet wine, and seasoned with bitter recollections of this musical evening. CHAPTER XV. CONCLUSION. I have received the following communication from an old literary friend, to whom I sent my eighth chapter, requesting his opinion of it:-- MOTTO. _There are unreceptive times, but that which is eternal outlives all times. _--JOH. VON MÜLLER. MY DEAR FRIEND, --I have read your eighth chapter. What you facetiouslycall "the three trifles" seem to me to be three most important points, even if you had described them simply as _fine_ taste, _deep_ feeling, and _a good_ ear. Who expects superlative excellence from the age inwhich he lives, and who dares to attack it, in its most vulnerableparts? You grow more harsh and disagreeable, and you do not seem toconsider how many enemies you make, among those who think that they havelong ago advanced beyond these three points. Just now, too, when thereis so much said about "the intellectual" in music, and about "the innernature of the future, " and when such fine expressions are invented aboutit, you come forward with your three unseasonable trifles in thesuperlative degree. Do you imagine that our intelligent age cannotdiscern your hidden satire? You say that our times are in need of your three trifles, _and_ thenecessary knowledge and experience. _Voilà tout!_ As for Prince Louis Ferdinand, Dussek, Clementi, Himmel, Hummel, C. M. V. Weber, Beethoven, &c. , --who has not heard all about them? After them, comes the period of "piano fury, " and the compositionsappropriate for it. Now the three trifles required are _distorted_taste, _hypocritical_ feeling, and a _depraved_ ear, combined with thenecessary superficiality and some power of production. _Voilà tout!_ After that, musicians bethink themselves once more of the genuine threetrifles, and return to reason, and we are allowed to take delight inChopin, Mendelssohn, Fr. Schubert, Robert Schumann, and a few others ofthe same sort, and again in Beethoven. These were succeeded by mere dry imitators; they were not, however, ofmuch significance. Finally, the very latest progress introduces a still more extravagantpiano fury. The three trifles are now _distorted_ taste, _no_ feeling, and _no_ ear for tone; and with these are required the necessaryaudacity, immeasurable vanity, senseless exhibitions of strength, a poortouch upon the piano, and what they call "intellect. " The compositionsare now embellished with appropriate pictures on the cover, and withattractive title-pages. In addition, there is much talk about a "higherbeauty, " "the stand-points which have been already surmounted, ""artistic flights, " and the "misunderstanding of the innerconsciousness, " "Genius must be free, " &c. My old conservative friend, you are seen through. Your influence, andmore especially your ideas about singing, belong only to a past age. They date from the last century. You will be derided with your JennyLind and Henrietta Sontag. They are lifeless images of singers, to bekept in a glass case. Are you willing to remain ignorant of themagnificent modern style of voice? Can you not go forward with theadvancing age? Progressive philosophers will rap you over the knuckles. You imagine that our times will stop for a couple of lectures! You willyet have to learn what "intellect" signifies. In short, I should notlike to stand in your shoes. You should conclude your book with "Pater, peccavi. " Even in misfortune, Your sympathizing friend, _V. E. _