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THE MUSIC TRADE REVIEW
of Bach, I would like to name a few facts
concerning it which have recently come to
my notice, and which I believe are not
generally known.
The instrument, in an excellent state of
preservation, is now in the museum con-
nected with the Konigliche Hochschule
fiir Musik in Berlin where is gathered to-
gether the most notable collection of musi-
cal instruments in the world. They are so
jealously guarded that when Rubinstein
begged permission to play upon one of
them he was refused. It remained for a
personal friend of mine (Mr. S. Becker
von Grabill) to corrupt the vigilant ward-
er, and actually perform upon the instru-
ments. . It seems that the action of the
"well-tempered clavichord" is too slug-
gish to admit of a trill, in the modern
sense of the word, and it is thus evident
that the effect indicated in the old manu-
scripts is the repetition of one note, and not
the alternation of two, an effect, in fact,
which is like the mandolin tremolo of to-
day, and which may be produced on the
clavichord by shaking the key after it is
down.
tradition. The assistance which instru-
ments of the phonograph class can render
by preserving the product of the execu-
tant's art may eventually make the score of
secondary importance. One already reads
of languages taught by the gramaphone.
But the performance of the composer,
even if preserved in toto by the genius of
an Edison, • could not always be taken
without a grain of salt. Dexterity of con-
struction, does not imply dexterity of ex-
ecution, and technic aside, the talent which
arranges tones into significant relationships
as regards pitch and duration, is not al-
ways the talent which busies itself to ad-
vantage with the finer shading of those
tones as regards dynamics, or the talent
which controls most happily the varying
pulses of tempo.
Interpretative talent,
when it exists, is best exercised upon the
works of another. The products of the
mind are too near its own eye to be prop-
erly focused. Schumann could not con-
duct, and Mendelssohn, who conducted
well, led the symphonies of Schumann
better than he led the symphonies of Men-
delssohn.
Some tell us that Mozart must be played
with the same freedom as Chopin. I fail to
sec the cogency of the reason if his com-
positions suggest it, as they frequently do.
In Mozart's Fantasie in D minor who can
find, such a great gulf fixed between the
German and the Pole? Would you have
me play it in strict time because of its
date?
May I not rather interpret it freely on
account of its content?
TRADITION.
Tradition, though often priceless, has
its disadvantages, too. It is difficult of
access, fragmentary, contradictory and
perishable.
The wave of bigotry which swept over
England in the r 7th century, while it
carried Cromwell as high as the throne,
submerged every theatre in the land.
Dramatic continuity was broken, and
when years afterward the plays of Shake-
•speare were again staged, the personal di-
rections of the poet were forgotten and
the parts had to be recreated by the unas-
sisted actors—a loss to the world hardly to
be estimated.
The traditions of music
may in no single instance surfer so wide a
breach, but w T ith the death of every great
artist, another volume of precious lore
goes tumbling into the gulf of oblivion.
To cite an example: Of what inestima-
ble worth are the recollections which de
Kontski, the friend of Chopin and Field,
and the sole surviving pupil of Beethoven,
carries in the frail tablets of his brain.
Yet he nears the furthermost limit of the
span of life and makes almost no record,
save here and there a word in a stray
magazine article.
Strange perverseness
seems to rule the custodians of tradition,
for Mr. S. Becker von Grabill, mentioned
above, de Kontski's friend and assistant,
and the natural heritor of the savant's
memoirs, seems as little inclined to reduce
them to type as the savant himself.
It is more than probable that we are at
the beginning of a new era in the matter of
Too, composers change their minds and
develop and improve upon their published
pages.
Beethoven played the Andante
from Op. 14, No. 2, staccato, when it was
new to the public.
In his riper age he sustained the melody.
Tradition, therefore, to be of value should
preserve all the conditions and circum-
stances of each performance, which it sel-
dom does.
INSTINCT.
Where other aids are absent or deficient
the artist must rely upon his native in-
stinct, a more trustworthy guide than is
usually supposed. The true artist knows
well enough what the master meant, no
matter what the master said. The orig-
inal folio and quarto editions of "Lear"
present to the casual glance an unintelli-
gible mass of typographical errors, yet all
but a few passages have been deciphered
by sheer force of sympathetic intelligence.
In like manner the pianist picks his way
through misprints, fallacious instructions
and gaping scores to the virgin idea. A
word to the wise is more than sufficient.
An inscription which once graced the Pan-
theon—or rather disgraced it, for it was in
praise of Nero—has recently been restored
by means of the holes left by the pegs
which once held the letters in place.
Mediocrity cannot be expected to span
the chasm between itself and the great
tone poets, but thanks to the kinship of
lofty minds, there are interpretative ge-
niuses who can.
To them mediocrity
shall humbly listen, which brings me to
my final caption.
EXAflPLE.
Example is the great, almost the only
source of information open to the average
mind. It is quite the fashion, I know, to
decry imitation, but the very ones who do
so would be the first to point out the ne-
cessity of fidelity to tradition and the
score. What is such fidelity but imita-
tion? If one is such a fountain of origin-
ality, why interpret at all? Why not com-
pose and extemporize? This talk about
originality is idle. Only egotists strive to
stand alone, and the famous composers de-
pended upon their predecessors to a
marked degree.
If a pupil has originality he can do no
better than to feed it upon the perform-
ances of those more gifted than himself.
Who ever heard of the individual bias
being injured in this way, or of a great
player beiug produced in any other? The
pupil must have a worthy pattern to guide
his endeavors, and demonstrative lessons
have always been and always will be the
best. The idea that a great player is pos-
sibly a wretched teacher has been fostered,
I fear, by those who would suffer from a
contrary opinion becoming current. I am
aware that something besides technic and
interpretative power is required of the ped-
agogue, but after all is said, was there
ever a really notable player who was not
able to teach? I have nothing to say
against those few teachers who have won
an honorable reputation as such. If they
choose to play in the class-room rather
than in concert, that is their affair and
their pupils lose nothing.
But it has
been gradually forced upon my unwilling
mind that the curse of the profession is
those teachers who cannot play, either in
studio or in hall. This is the pith and
point of my paper. Let him who professes
to lead, tread first the self-same path him-
self, and not neglect those mental and
mechanical processes so necessary to inter-
pretation.
*
F)ERLIOZ, the eminent French com-
*-* poser, had a caustic wit. He could
not endure Bach, and he Used to call Han-
del " a big hog," a "musician of the
stomach." For this he was paid out by
Mendelssohn, who declared that after
touching a score of Berlioz, soap and hot
water were necessary. Berlioz, however,
had his musical hero, and that hero was
Beethoven. Touch Beethoven irreverent-
ly and his ire was kindled. There is a
certain passage for the double basses in
one of the master's scores which was at
one time believed to be almost impossible
of execution. Now, Habeneck conducted
a performance of this work in Paris and
gave the passage in question to the 'cellos.
Berlioz, who was present, met Habeneck
soon after, and asked him when he meant
to give the passage as Beethoven intended
it to be given. " Never as long as I live,"
said Habeneck. "Well, we'll wait," re-
plied Berlioz; " don't let it be long."
*
A GENEVA paper prints an article in
**• which is given a list of forty-three
eminent composers whose average age
was sixty-seven.
Aubcr heads the list
with eighty-nine years, and then come
Dorn, eighty-eight; Schiitz, eight-seven;
Cramer, eight-seven ; Lachner, eighty-six ;
Clementi, eighty; Palestrina, eighty; Tau-
bert, eighty. The shortest lived of all is
Schubert, thirty-one; his nearest com-
panions being Mozart, thirty-five; Men-
delssohn, thirty-eight; Chopin and Weber,
forty.