Practicing the Piano Frank Merrick

This book is the fruit of a lifetime of ex-

perience as a teacher and it has grown out

of the advice which Mr. Merrick has been

in the habit of giving to his pupils. Al-

though no text-book can ever be a sub-

stitute for the presence of an inspiring

teacher, this particular book is distinc-

tively personal. Those who have learned

from Frank Merrick will almost hear his

voice beside them. And as far as advice

handed down orally from teacher to pupil

goes, the advice is of excellent pedigree.

For Leschetizky, Merrick's master, learnt

from Czerny, who in turn learnt from

Beethoven.

Some Press opinions of this book

"A really personal and valuable contri-

bution to the art of piano playing. No

person studying to be a concert pianist or

well-equipped teacher can afford not to

read and ponder over it, nor ignore its

advice., which stems from an alert and

well-furnished mind." Royal College of

'

A. work which e:;i r i ues profound under-

fianciirg of a traitless art.'* MonthlyMu$ :id Record

"Uith such a book as (this) to inspire us.

mechanical dradger/ :an almost be eli-

minated, and practice made as interesting

ind entertaining as a game." HAROLD

RUTLAND, Musical Times

"Written wi:h clarity and h-;n:aiv"

Ti'ims Lhsrary Supplement

"Highly iiarged with precious. tounse1."

FELIX AH..AHAMIAN, Sunday Times

Published in t * J.&.a.

DOVER PUBLICATIONS, INC.180 Varick Street

New Yen, New York 10014

1148005984182

786.3 M56pKerrick

Practising the piano

67-11865

PRACTISING THE PIANO

PRACTISINGTHE PIANO

FRANK MERRICKF.R.C.M.

LONDONBARRIE AND ROCKLIFF

FRANK 3MERRICK 1958

First published by RocklifF Publishing Corporation 1 958Revised edition published 1960

by Barrie and RocklifF (Barrie Books Ltd.)2 Clement's Inn, Strand, London WGa

3rd Impression 1965

Printed in Great Britain byFletcher <2f Son Ltd, Norwich

1O577/65

TO ALL MY PUPILS

PAST AND PRESENT

FROM WHOM I MAY WELL HAVE LEARNT

MORE THAN THEY CAN HAVE LEARNT

FROM ME

KANSAS CiTY P.) PUBLIC LIBRARY

Contents

Author's Preface ix

1 Delayed Continuity ..... i

2 Singing and Conducting .... 7

3 Chords : I Some Useful Progressions . . 10

II Ways of Practising the Chords 14

4 Pedalling: I Preparatory Exercises . . 17

II General . . . .21

5 Finger Passages . . . . 27

6 On Playing Works as a Whole . . 3 1

7 Double Thirds 35

8 Practising on the Surface of the Keys . . 43

9 The Postman's Knock .... 45

10 Practising in Solid Chords .... 47

11 Octaves 5 1

12 Simplified Versions of Difficult Passages . 55

13 Practising with One Finger ... 60

14 Fugal Study . . . . . '6315 Looseness at the Shoulder . . .681 6 Gradations of Time 72

17 Preparing of Hand Positions ... 76

1 8 Beauty of Tone 80

Practising the Piano

19 Trills and Rotary Movements of the Forearm 83

20 Sight-Reading . . . . .8821 Miscellaneous . . . . .9222 Bodily Stillness ..... 96

23 Athletic Form . . . . .9824 Dramatic Significance . . . .102

25 Memory ...... 105

26 Conclusion . . . . . .109Index . . . . . . .113

vin

Author's Preface

WHEN I started teaching in an official capacity, which wasat the Royal Manchester College of Music in 1911, I wassomewhat haunted by an idea that a teacher should try to

tell each pupil different things, since no two people are alike

and there seemed a danger of handing out to one and all an

undesirably rigid succession of statements too like the set

speeches of some cathedral vergers. As the years rolled on,

however, an increasing number of precepts seemed neces-

sary for nearly all the pupils depending on my help, and whathad to be offered to this majority has largely been incorpor-ated here.

It may have been in the 'twenties that an acute observer

said to me : "You know, there is such a lot of ritual in your

practising 1" The remark startled me, but led to a great deal

of meditation on the point and an ever-growing sense that

the assertion was true. Whether, then, the ritual could be

called a series of processes which difficult pieces or passages

may undergo, or whether these varied devices were lumpedtogether in ironical disparagement by alluding to them as a

bag of tricks, my advocacy of them became increasinglyconvinced. So as much ritual or as many processes as could

be intelligibly recommended were embodied in the appro-

priate chapters of this book.

The order of the chapters may appear obscure in purpose.One method of pianoforte study may be for you to build uptechnical efficiency for a number of years and then consider

yourself ready to superimpose the graces of interpretation ;

at the other extreme you can develop your knowledge of

interpretation and musicianship during those first years and

IX


then, realising what is wanted, start acquiring the -necessary

technique to get it. In order to avoid either of these extremes,the chapters are arranged so as to alternate as far as is con-

venient between the needs of musical enlightenment and

purely technical considerations.

Delayed Continuity

LESCHETIZKY said in one of the last lessons I had with

him : "I advise you very often to stop and listen when youare practising and then you will find out a great deal for

yourself." I have never ceased to follow this advice received

over fifty years ago. The term "stopping practice" arose

when it came to imparting the idea to others, but "delayed

continuity" seems to add an explanatory note.

Some music is very easy to play phrase1by phrase with

pauses in between (Ex. i) :

ExJ. Schubert: Moment musical, op.94,no.6

,

******* ^ m P^Tl ^ ^ n ig _ fa fa^Tr TE r I rHr * r

|

r ir ? jjJ

if r Ir T IT' EP*EIf the pauses are so long that each phrase is mentally or

actually sung a tempo (not flashed through in a second)before it is played, the player will benefit by this forethoughtand often excel previous efforts on the spot. If each phrase is

also followed by a further pause for reflection and self-

criticism the successful playings can be noted as worthy of

retention and the unsuccessful as models of what to avoid.

The threefold ritual can be abbreviated into three verbs,

"plan, play, judge", and is one-fifth of the way to a favourite

saying of Leschetizky : "Think ten times and play once." If

the general underlying idea is persistently followed day by

day, month by month and year by year, the effectual use of

1Perhaps "phrase" should often be "melodic unit" in this chapter, but it seems per-

missible in the interests of simplicity to adhere to the one word.


one's Interpretative will-power will constantly grow and

result in increasingly exacting ideals coupled with more

confidence and security in carrying them out.

Remember that the pause must always be at least as longas the phrase to come. The following shows the minimum

lenth of pauses for Ex. i (Ex, 2) :

Ex.2.ThlBk PUy

Think Play Thmk&Play

mThis leaves no extra time for criticising your efforts and if

the thinking is a really expressive mental rehearsal of what

is to come (rather than an apathetic conning over of the mere

notes) it will be preferable to add a breathing space to the

minimum pause. When time is also taken for self-criticism,

all sorts of practical questions like "Did the fingering, pedal-

ling, etc., all conduce to give me a recognisable copy of that

mental rehearsal ?" can be seriously faced.

Sometimes the desire to try the phrase over again is

irresistible, but think it through again first. Do not play

twice on one mental rehearsal if you can withstand the

violent temptation to do so which comes from an over-eager

spirit* In this emulate not a hockey player but a golfer. Whenthe latter misses the ball he repeats a very solemn and

impressive ceremony known as "addressing the ball" before

carrying out a second attempt.What about pauses that have no rests between them?

Well, to use the ritual in such places is an art that must be

acquired (Ex. 30 and b} :

Ex. 3a.Chopm : Study, op. 10, no.3Lento m* non tropfo

Delayed Continuity

This art involves thinking back (judging) and forward (plan-

ing) while sounds are being held on. That, however, will

prove less difficult than might have been supposed, and whenthere is no reason for such a long pause that the sounds die

away completely it is an advantage that the new phrase to

be played is legato from the former phrase with its pause,

delayed continuity thus becoming an acoustical fact. Indeed,when the sound has completely died away, it is often worth

while to repeat the pause notes and let the new phrase flow

out from them instead of beginning from silence.

Reviewing what has been proposed, it is seen that this

method of work gives each phrase the force of a separate

quotation. Now whereas a phrase that does not end staccato

sounds as if it had stopped by accident when the time values

of the notes are literally observed (Ex. 4) :

Ex.4. Mendelssohn: Song without words, op.!9,no.l^ Andante conmot(L_

r r

when the last notes are held (Ex. 5) :

Ex.5,

the pause sounds intentional, as though one wishes the list-

ener to ponder on the special beauty of that separate phrase.In stopping-practice, therefore, end with a staccato whenthe phrase does so anyhow (Ex. 6) :

Ex. 6. Beethoven : Sonata, op.27, no.2

Allegretto

and with a rest where there is one (Ex. i), but otherwise with

the sounds prolonged as in Ex. 3 and Ex, $. Sometimes a


phrase ends staccato in one voice and tenuto in another

(Ex.7):Ex.7. Beethoven: Sonata, op. 27, no.2

and in such cases the tenuto can be held right through the

pause (if it does not die away too soon) so that the new phrase

joins on in due course to the old in one or more voices.

We enjoy in all this the combined advantages of continuityand interruption at the same time, and although objectors

may claim that you cannot eat your cake and have it, there

are occasions on which this miracle does seem to take place.

In some pieces stopping-places are not too easy to find.

Ask yourself whether the following pauses are rightly

placed (Ex. 8) :

Ex. 8. Bach: French Suite in G,Allemande

In such a piece as this a good stopping moment in one voice

may be bad in another. But provisional experimental stopslead to a lot of clarity of mind about the phrasing some are

so unacceptable that one would never repeat them, others so

inevitably satisfying that it is difficult even to try an alterna-

tive afterwards. When there seem to be several plausible

alternatives, try to hold them in your memory for possiblefuture use. It can be delightful to change the phrasing when

passages have to be repeated and to play differently on

Delayed Continuity

different days, though it is unconvincing not to mean the

phrasing one way or the other at the actual moment of any

given performance,The more clearly the method of stopping-practice is

grasped, the easier will it be to use it for purely technical as

well as interpretative purposes. When we do so, the pausesenable us to rehearse the execution of what is coming in our

imagination, A striking expression for this, even if it does

not find universal favour on our side of the Atlantic, is

"mentalising our technique". When we dream it all seems

to be reality, and this vividness should be sought when we

practise in our minds. It is strictly true that we can physi-

cally perform any piece of technical execution which we can

really imagine at the correct pace, for anything we cannot

perform will have lacked either vividness or the necessary

pace or some other feature in the mental rehearsal, and if

we can find where the discrepancy lies our task may be

greatly simplified.

Technical stopping-practice should often be split up into

shorter fragments than phrases. Here we have pauses at

regular intervals (Ex. 9) :

Ex, 9. Brahms : Variations on a theme of Handel, op.24

and here at irregular (Ex. 10) :

Ex.10. Brahms : Variations on a theme of Handel, op.24

In order to achieve delayed continuity in the physicalexecution of these examples we can pause with our fingers


touching the keys they havejust released or the keys they will

next be required to depress. To move to the latter will be a

first step in the welding together of those links in the chain

that are now being separately forged or tested. When the

pauses are long and profitably given up to effective planningand the tempo very quick in the actual playing, we combine

the muscular development and high spirits of speed with the

safety and confidence of slow practice in a way that tends to

eliminate a great deal of profitless drudgery. Some slow prac-tice is unavoidable, but it should be often supplemented and

sometimes superseded by this "look before you leap" kind

of quick practice.

Singing and Conducting

I N the previous chapter the ritual of "plan, play, judge"was advocated. "Plan" primarily meant "think" or "sing in

your head before-hand". An essential object of this is to

form and strengthen the habit of always singing in yourhead while you are playing. Leschetizky, who loved pithy

over-statements, said : "If you can tell when someone is play-

ing that he is singing the music in his mind as he plays it,

it is a good performance, and if you cannot, it is a bad per-formance." This would hardly be an over-statement if

interpretative insight were presupposed.To sing out loud fervently and often is therefore to be

preached from the house-tops, even if one's vocal efforts are

raucous and out of tune. The singing should sometimes bewhen you are playing but oftener when you are not playing.

Singing while you play will help you to infuse more fervour

into the expression as when an eager young pupil once

asked me what she could do with her piece to "warmen it

up". But this pro has two cons. One is that your voice

drowns some of the actual tonal effects so that the result is

partly conjectural. The other is that you may incur the habit

of audibly singing when you are playing to others. I have

known several cases where this habit seemed incurable. Withmost pros and cons, however, to recognise what they are is

an important forward step in helping us to achieve the prosand evade the cons.


As regards singing before you play, it is of enormous

influence in teaching you how your melodies should be

declaimed (a word of which Beethoven was fond in this con-

text), and of further influence in focusing your will-power to

carry out what your voice has just taught you. Your voice

not only helps you to decide which notes should be loud and

soft but how loud and soft, and because this enlightenmentis from within it will be natural and sincere. Whenever youare puzzled about melodic tone gradation, let singing be

your final court of appeal. Even if you are puzzled about

the length of sounds, apply the same test. In Bach we are

often faced with the problem of which notes to join and

which to detach. Take this subject (Ex. i la and F) :

Ex .Ha. Bach: Concerto in D minor

The slurs and dots in Ex. na and b only give us two out

of many possible alternatives. You could argue at great

length and still feel uncertain, but every time you sing the

tune you will get nearer to a solution of the problem that

will bring conviction to your mind, including the tricky

question of how short any detached notes should be.

Closely allied to singing is the conducting of imagined

performance. It is slower to wax to maturity, but the morewe sing and the more reality there is in our musical thinking,the more relevance and potency will our conducting gain. It

can be applied to single phrases, or lengthened at will to

entire movements (or even works) and it can alternate with

playing like "singing before you play". If you conduct a

phrase it is easier than ever to know where and how the

climax lies and to apportion the intensity of the various

stresses.

A few hints about conducting (self-evident to the ex-

perienced) are generally needed by the inexperienced for

8

Singing and Conducting

guidance and encouragement. Firstly we should feel that the

orthodox beats themselves are of real significance and

potency. If an up-beat is seen to be like the diver's hands

rising high above his head and a down-beat like a dive itself,

the value of the two gestures will be very clear. If, in four

time, instead of "down, out, in, up", we rightly say "down,

in, out, up" (especially when beating with both arms) it will

quickly be realised that "in" was less ample and emphaticthan the more rapturous "out" for the stronger third beat.

We can learn the aptness of beating pp in inches and ff in

feet, and crescendos with increase of distance and diminu-

endos with decrease. A further step forward is taken whenour fingers participate in the gestures, we can smite the air

with clenched fists to express grim determination, or stroke

it with an extended palm to denote tenderness or persuasion,or prick it with a pointed forefinger to suggest crisp, delicate

staccato, to name a few characteristic possibilities. As our

conducting becomes more spontaneous and significant weshall find it of ever-increasing value as a supplement to the

singing.A notable benefit from conducting just before we play

short stretches is that the actions of doing so strengthen and

focus our will-power in a stimulating way while also keepingour upper arms loose at the shoulder (see chapter 15) and

getting our hands and fingers into a more or less ideal state

of poised readiness.

Chords

I SOME USEFUL PROGRESSIONS

CHORD playing is an extremely important aspect of

pianism and benefits one in a number of directions, some

unsuspected and others obvious. One of the latter is a know-

ledge of the geography of the keyboard. The much-vaunted

major and minor scales in single notes are not more than a

modest introduction to the required intimacy and com-

plexity of that knowledge. A few harmonic progressions

follow with which early familiarity should be gained. First

the major scale in inverted triads, otherwise known as

I chords (Ex, 12);

fnrn i

The progression is more flowing than root-position triads

(| chords) or second inversions (| chords). The rhythmchosen has more melodic shape than if all the notes were of

equal length. Learn to play these chords in all the twelve

major keys. If some of them cause difficulty write out the

chords (the ascent only will do) on music manuscript paper,in every key, preferably in the order chosen by Bach for "The

Forty-eight" : C, QJ, [ty], D5 E|>, E, F, Fft [Gfr], G, A|>,

A, B[;, B, [Qj], using the proper key signature for each,

whereby there will be no accidentals. The three keys with

an enharmonic alternative in brackets should be written out

10

Chords: Some Useful Progressions

in both spellings. When properly written out, any scale that

was found difficult should be practised with the music. Later,when playing by heart again, ascertain whether you can at

the same time imagine the notation on paper, including both

spellings of the scales that have an alternative. Students can

often play these three scales when imagining the one spell-

ing but not when imagining the other, which is to be in anundesirable state of insecurity.A similar progression in the minor, to be played in all the

keys is this (Ex. 13) ;

Ex.13.

rhPYYiffi

I

It will be found more grateful to the ear than consistent

adherence to the harmonic or melodic form.

Next let us have some rather more massive chords, againto be played in all the keys (Ex. 14) :

Ei.14.

f*

N*

*The penultimate chord in the minor key will be equallygram-matical and satisfying with a raised or flattened leading note.

Then a chord pattern with constant key change produced

by semitone shifts which should be continued until we getback to C major (Ex. 15) :

II


Then the same with inversions following each other zig-

zag-wise, continued to the bottom of the piano (Ex. 1 6) :

Ex.10.

This series of dominant sevenths is too disturbing for

frequent use. One is hurled from key to key (Ex. 1 7) :

EX.IZ

These modulations, on the contrary (Ex. 1 8) :

Ex.18.

usher you politely from one key into the next one. It will be

seen that at the first move the top two voices descend a

semitone while at the next move it is the lower two voices that

descend. It is like a small child coming downstairs. This

notation (Ex. 19):Ex.19.

'in

implies the moment of key change and what the new key is,

and you should realise that the modulatory chord is the first

inversion of the added sixth in the new key.The regular addition of a fifth note to each chord (Ex.

20):Ex.20.

^ n

contributes to the value of the progression for practising

purposes, and anyone whose stretch is not equal to all the

demands would do better to spread the notes rather than

leave some of them out. But unless the addition had been

printed as a small notewe might have needed the explanatory

Chords: Some Useful Progressions

rigmarole: "For the second chord the top-note-and-the-bottom-two stay where they are while the top-two-but-onemove down a semitone, and for the third chord the top-note-and-the-bottom-two move down a semitone while the top-two-but-one stay where they are" 1 When the modulations

continue to descend from the first chord until we reach the

same notes an octave lower, twenty-five chords will have

been played. If inversions are added in contrary motion,thus (Ex. 21) :

Ex

mall one's ten fingers are obliged to think what they are doingat every one of nearly 180 moves before the lowest note on

the piano is reached.

Chords in whole tones have much to recommend them

(Ex. 22) :

Ex.22.

Itj*f

if ty

similesempresimile

m

One way to find each new chord in this series is first to decide

what one of its notes should be (say, the bottom one) in

each hand, and then feel for the whole-tone-scale notes that

are adjacent to that. This engraves the finger-spacing of each

chord on your memory and is clearly related to the harmonic

effect that is coming. Another equally good and desirable

way is to make the fingers do their semitone shifts one at a

time till all five are in place, say in the order i, 2, 3, 4, 5or 5, 4, 3, 2, i. This makes you specially aware of the wayin which individual voices move to the adjacent note, thus

appealing to your contrapuntal sense*

To play the various chord progressions correctly, makingeach chord full and harmonious, is undoubtedly worth while

13


in itself, whatever touch mechanism is employed, but moredetailed advice follows.

II WAYS OF PRACTISING THE CHORDS

WITH muscular development in view let us start with Ex*

2 1 and play each chord staccatissimo, ensuring the speedthereof by immediately clenching our fists as tightly as

possible. Do not play from a distance but touch all the notes

of the chord consciously before they are pressed down. If

this rhythm is adopted (Ex. 23) :

Ex.23. i

it may take an eighth of a bar to unclench and find the next

chord, whereby the clench could occupy more than three-

quarters of each ban That will be strengthening in itself and

productive of the right sort of relaxation at the moment of

unclenching. Another rhythm to adopt is this (Ex. 24) :

E..M. .

in which one difficulty is to achieve a really tight gripbetween each chord. The better you succeed, the more

tiring is the performance, and you may begin to wonder if

your fingers are going to drop off. But although we are often

warned to discontinue playing when physical discomfort is

experienced, this particular discomfort is evidence of efficient

muscular exertion rather than a danger signal and can be

continued till the chords become too weak for you to take

any pride in them. A few bouts of this special practisingtend to produce more progress in sheer muscular fitness

than long spells of drudgerywith scales, etc., and the principal

danger is perhaps unsuspected the joy of playing for the

pleasure of mere muscular sensation instead of being prim-

arily concerned with the significance of the music or, in

Chords: Ways of Practising the Chords

passages like these, the harmonic fullness and rhythmicaldecisiveness of the chords.

This danger can be considerably lessened if we vary the

progressions with a series of tone schemes as follows : i. ff ;

*#>; 3-#x/; 4- ff>~pp\ 5- #></>?; 6./>-^-<jf* The main value of the first two is to set the

extremes of loud and soft as far apart as possible. Then the

crescendos and diminuendos which follow will be on a largerscale. When we are practising, a big crescendo rather un-

evenly gradated is more stimulating than an exquisitely con-

trolled one on a smaller scale. The latter will encourageself-satisfaction without pointing the way further. Theformer encourages boldness and generous warmth, and youare not at all likely to be satisfied with the uneven gradationsbut will say : "Yes, like that but better controlled." This is

one of the few instances where quantity may be preferred to

quality.

Perhaps a digression will be pardoned at this point. If the

above six tone schemes are used in practising the repeatedhalves of pieces in binary form (like most of the movementsin eighteenth-century suites) they can be followed by a

seventh the gradations that are demanded by the music. If

a wide selection of alternatives suit it equally well, all the

better, for in actual performance the repeats gain charm andlife by varied expression the second time. Pondering on this

added use of the tone schemes may well act as an encourage-ment to practise them oftener. If you compare the sevenfold

ritual with unvaried repetitions of the same music you will

find that the latter soon get you into a sort of coma not

free from the danger of making mistakes, whereas the

varied treatment compels mental attention and develops the

habit of control by constructive and purposeful thoughtinstead of the cessation of thought and reliance on automatic

habit.

In due course, substitute for the clench a gathering

together of the fingertips as though you were trying to

squash a ripe grape with them. This movement includes that

15


of ideal finger action with some extra drawing-in of finger-

tips (the first clench has still more of the latter) so it

physically benefits one's finger work as well as one's chord-

playing. Both it and the clench should resemble the snapof a strong steel spring, the clench making for robust

strength and the gathering of the fingertips for swift

sprightliness and greater delicacy.

A third movement, already alluded to in chapter i, in

which we should emulate the speed of the first two, is to

dart the fingers of both hands on to the notes that are next

due. This movement brings us a big step nearer the needs

of actual passage-playing and will be discussed further in

the chapter on the preparing of hand positions.

Often use the pedal with staccato chords, especially as in

No. 5 of Ex. 28 in the next chapter. They will ring out

inspiringly when the sound is thus prolonged,To follow up the processes recommended look out for

passages with plenty of full chords in them, like the fourth

variation in Schumann's Etudes Symphoniques. In that par-ticular variation do your clench, or whatever it is, on the

chords only, with the semiquaver octaves immediately before

them as quickly as you can, however slow the pace of the

practising may be.

16

Pedalling

I PREPARATORY EXERCISES

THE first part of this chapter might well be skipped bythose readers whose pedalling has a reasonably solid founda-

tion. It is offered here for those who have never faced the

problems of pedalling at all or have got into difficulties with

them. Simple chord progressions are better for the exercises

than series of single notes, and provide a pleasant degreeof harmonious fullness, so let us take that of Ex. 12,

adding the left hand an octave lower and using the same

fingers for every chord and changing from one key to

another at frequent intervals. Beginning with legato pedal-

ling, the normal thing is to change the pedal when the har-

mony changes, so we shall be changing with every chord.

To change the pedal means to let it up and press it down

again, and in order to produce pedalled legato the up move-ment should be at the exact instant at which the new chord

speaks, for which sound-point is a self-explanatory term.

Remember that a hair's breadth of silence between the

BarS

^ Adagio (J = 50) jE.. "^

^PTNO1 P * P 3fc P 3fcP&

Legato 4rvrwrr ^ r w

W^BIVV j p ^ p & P 4i P <&>Mdallin*! ^^ ^^ ^^

^^^8 P* P* P * P*chords can be undesirably conspicuous. In our first three

exercises the up moments are always exactly at sound-point


while the down moments are varied. The objects of this are

conscious control and musical expression (Ex. 25).

As regards conscious control, the student sees in black

and white what is required of him and can therefore judgewhether it is being accomplished. When a mistake is made,the best course is to proceed calmly without rhythmical in-

terruption as though there had been no mistake and to do

the next bar correctly. If several bars go wrong it provesthat our intentions cannot have been clear enough. Adagio

J^50 g*ves us beats kke the steps of a dignified proces-

sion;a quicker pace is not nearly so useful, patient control

in delaying to press down the foot and plenty of time to

listen to results being all-important,

As regards musical expression, when the pedal is presseddown all the dampers are lifted off all their strings and the

consequent sympathetic vibration (audible with a single

note but much more so with our six-note chords) imparts a

glow to the tone, a sort of crescendo ofundeniable expressive

value. For this crescendo to take place at one beat of the bar

is very different from the same crescendo at another beat

(Ex, 260, b and c) :

Ei.26a. Ex.26b. x.26c.

all the more so because in (a\ and still more in(<:),

the chord

will have become weaker at the pedalled beat than it would

have been on the second beat as in (F). Consequently, whereas

the character of (^) is the most ardent and eager of the three

alternatives, that of (c) is the most tranquil. Even greater

tranquillity would be produced by this pedalling (Ex, 27) :

Ex.27.

though the mention of half-beats at this point may be rather

premature. In any case these differences of character should

18

Pedalling; Preparatory Exercises

be felt by the sole of our foot in the same way that our

fingers, in pressing lightly or the reverse in order to get

pianos and fortes, link up our physical sensations with the

emotional requirements of the music. People are often des-

cribed as musical to their fingertips, but the sole of the

pianist's right foot rarely receives the verbal recognition to

which it is entitled.

Let it be emphasised now, in preference to later on, that

the heel must never leave the ground and the foot mustnever lose physical contact with the pedaL If, as the pedalis released, the foot is lifted, even an inch, the kick whenone's shoe returns to the pedal will often be heard. It is even

worth while to find out whether the dampers on the instru-

ment you are playing effectually silence the strings before

the pedal is right up, for letting it up often produces a dull

thud which is quite audible in the concert room, and to

eliminate this noise in pp passages is worth some trouble. Tohold the pedal a quarter of an inch from the full up positionat the cost of complete efficiency by the dampers, however,would naturally be carrying our zeal for silent mechanism (if

not the movement of our foot) a quarter of an inch too far.

In the next three exerciseswe are leaving the field of legatofor that of intermittent pedalling. The same element of con-

scious control by planned variety of treatment is again to be

found, but this time it is the ascent of the pedal that varies.

(Ex.28):Ex.28.

i * * * li * * *I

*

The musical difference between these is in the duration

of the sound. It will be seen that the pedal lengthens the

short staccato chord (which might last about a semiquaverwithout the pedal) into a minim in No. 4, a dotted minim

in No. 5, and a complete instead of a shortened crotchet in

No. 6. In No. 6 the effect is sound for one-quarter and

19


silence for three-quarters of the time. Steady pulsation

during total silence or when nothing new is happening is

far from inborn with most of us, so these exercises will be

good training in that direction, quite apart from their

special purpose. If you ensure a swift staccato by clenching

your fists in playing each chord and then beat out the rests

with your hands (plain down beats), it will probably have

more rhythmical life than if you counted the beats out loud

or mentally, partly because of the prosaic associations of the

syllables. And at some point it will act as a sort of bridgebetween the mere drill element of these exercises and real

pedalling to use the six tone schemes in chapter 3, part II,

with the pedal exercises.

Although the main purpose of the exercises is achieved

by the very slow practice recommended, No. i (and No. I

only) should eventually be practised more quickly. Perhaps

"eventually" might be interpreted as "when all six exercises

can be played with ease and security in one's sleep". Even

those new to pedal exercises may hope to reach that pointafter spending some ten or fifteen minutes a day upon them

for a matter of weeks. After that it may not ever be necessaryto practise them again, though an occasional return to them

might add to your confidence or prevent your pedallingstandards from deteriorating.

A good way to speed up No. i is by altering the notation.

If> as it stands, we can call it playing in semibreves and

pedalling in minims, then playing in minims and pedallingin crotchets (Ex. 290) would be twice as quick, playing in

crotchets and pedalling in quavers (Ex. 29^) four times as

quick, and playing in quavers and pedalling in semiquavers

(Ex. 29*:) eight times as quick :

However nimble the footwork, the dampers will not respond

adequately if you attempt much quicker changing than this.

20

Pedalling: General

Those lovely modulations in Chopin's B major Nocturne,

op. 62, no. i (Ex. 30) :

Ex.30.

come out rather quicker and suggest the same changes, one

for each chord.

II GENERAL

EVEN before the above exercises, if worked at, are fully

mastered, few players would refrain from using the pedalwith moderate frequency, often to good effect. Hymns and

steady successions of chords will need pedalling similar to

Ex. 25, No. 2, and regular changes (effected rather more

speedily, however) suit long stretches of pieces like the

Chopin Nocturnes of which Nos. i, 9, 13, 14 and 15 cer-

tainly thrive for a good many bars with two changes a bar,

and Nos. 2 and 10 with four changes. When you come to

a place where the advice just given produces an undesirable

smudge, two changes instead of one is likely to be at least

an improvement. When fewer changes are preferable Chopin

usually signifies that that is his wish. But it is often difficult

to choose pedallings and also to decide which effects that do

not please are due to a bad choice, and which to a bad carry-

ing out of a good choice. The cause is far more often one

or other of these two than both at once, and sometimes a

change in the tone gradations will prove a better remedythan different pedalling*

Meanwhile the best way to develop both wisdom and

skill in pedalling is to play at the correct pace and stop for

really long pauses at suitable moments, -rather than playing

very slowly and listening to each pedal change at that unre-

presentative pace (Ex. 31) :

21


If all these pauses are long enough, we have a splendid

opportunity ofjudging firstly, whether the harmony we stopon is free from smudge, and secondly, by thinking back,whether the previous pedal changes sounded clean enoughas to their general effect. Many students require to be

urged to listen much more carefully than has been their

wont before they can judge the first point reliably. Until

they can do this they will not be ready for the second,

though when they can they are getting reasonably near, Afurther point about these pauses is that even the most

experienced players can learn volumes from them about

the effectiveness of their pedalling, both its choice andexecution. Leschetizky used to put it whimsically thus : "In

two seconds you can tell what the effect is for a member of

the audience in the fifth row, in four seconds the effect half-

way down the auditorium, in ten seconds the effect at the

back of the gallery." In these precise figures there mayhave been what W. W. Jacobs called "the exactitude of

untruth'', but Leschetizky always expected us to season his

utterances with the salt of common sense.

One anecdote that sank deep into some of our youngminds told how Leschetizky was talking to a guest on the

stairs. Sounds like this (Ex. 32) :

22

Pedalling: General

Ex.32. Beethoven.- Sonata op. 26.A-*M~t~ *'And

were audible, and the guest ventured to enquire: "Oh,Professor, do your children learn the piano ?" Leschetizky

replied ; "That is the great Essipoff practising."The minimum pause should never be shorter than the

stretch of playing which it follows, but you will do better

still if you have a prolonged and analytical listening to the

harmony of the pause and a real think about the earlier partof what has been played. It would be better for the pausesounds to die away completely than for the judgments to be

hasty. If the sounds do die away completely, moreover, it is

often wise to sound them again before the onward movementis resumed (see chapter i, p. 3).

If earlier beats are smudgy and the pause beats beautifully

clean, the effect will be better than of some beautifully clean

beats followed by a smudgy pause beat. Thus Ex. 33^ is

better than Ex. 33^:

An instructive example of the same kind is the tolerable

sound of this (Ex. 34) :


on the way from one clean chord to another (Ex.and the intolerable effect of the self-same blur at a stopping

point (Ex.

i*P

Momentary dissonances are remarkably harmless in the

right place. In both the cases which follow, it is misguided to

change on the swiftly resolved semiquavers (Ex. 36a and &) :

Ex. 36a. Chopin:Prelude in C minor Ex.36b. Schubert: Moment musicalA ft L i 2 I

*

The much-vaunted half-change often comes out very

badly when tested by the method of pauses, it is usually pre-ferable to preserve the whole of the bass note firmly with

some smudginess in the higher register, rather than to

remove only some of the smudge above in order to retain

some of the bass, or to lose still more if not all of the bass

in order to remove the smudge completely. Of course

whenever this problem arises the right course is to weigh

every alternative with the utmost care and patience.One device often proves far more successful than might

have been expected. The underlying idea is that when all

the voices cannot be legato the extreme voices can least afford

a break in continuity. Take as an example the beginning of

the second movement of Franck's Prelude, Aria and Finale.

If you change the pedal on the low bass E and while doingso hold the soprano D$ down with your finger, thus (Ex. 37),the legato of the extreme voices is ensured, and nevertheless

what is left of the D$ will be very faint (perhaps inaudible),

especially if you have taken care to play it pretty softly. An

irreproachably clean chord with a gap in the soprano voice

would have given a far less satisfactory effect. Some may

24

Pedalling; General

prefer the pedal lifted with the D$ crotchet, whereby the

low bass notes would no longer be legato ; the suggestionwith regard to the soprano would still hold, however.

Ex.37. Frank: Prelude, Aria and Finale

Three points in conclusion, of which the first has been

implied already. Many pianists would be horrified if theywere advised as a general principle to "change the pedal less

often and then change it splendidly*'. Nevertheless a veryclean change now and then is quite often preferable to

frequent less immaculate ones, not only tonally but because

of the onward rhythmical sweep that tends to result.

This brings us to a second point the influence of pedal-

ling on the rhythmical life of our pieces. A great deal of light

will dawn upon us if we make a series of experiments in

studying such a piece as one of the more lively waltzes of

Chopin, in order to compare a large number of alternatives

in intermittent pedalling. In these four bars the seven pedal-

lings can any one of them add to the swinging vitality of the

rhythm (Ex. 38):

Ex.38. Chopin Waltz, op. 34, No.l .

'^ J f f I I f f I âi1. P2. P3. P4. None5. P6. None

,7. P

PP#PP

PPP#*P

PP*P

When you are deeply versed in all this, the right choice

should often come on the spur of the moment and it is quite

likely that it will not be the right one when the same bars

recur. Truly, pedalling is a life study.


The third point may not meet with universal approval.Whereas many players think: "Where shall I add the

pedal ?" much can be learned by saying : "Where shall it be

subtracted ?" In other words, if you keep it down practically

the whole time the question would be where to leave it off.

Over-pedalling subsequently pruned down often leads in

actual fact to better results than a policy of undue caution*

Of course, neither approach exclusively will take you as far

as a judicious use of both.

26

Finger Passages

THESE quick passages in single notes are a very importantand universally recognised department of piano playing.

Certain processes are always useful in mastering them and

the problem is often which to adopt first and when to change

over to another instead of blindly hammering away with the

one. Try ringing the changes on some of these.

I . Practising hand staccato

Suppose it to be the left-hand part of Chopin's Study, op.

12, no. 12, that we wish to master. If we practise it with

the touch specified at about the pace of Jr^, considerable

precision and sequential melodic significance should be

fairly easy to ensure. Leschetizky said : "The object of slow

practice is to study the melodic elements in the passage

work", but these are too often forgotten during spells of

meaningless drudgery. It may be asked: "Why practise

passages with hand staccato when that is going to be the

wrong mechanism in the end?" The answer is that although

the fingers themselves will have to make the movements

when the semiquavers are played up to time, this early

treatment will both give them greater strength and agility

with which to do so at a later date, and engrave more firmly

on your memory the order in which the notes (and the fingers

which produce those notes) follow each other.

Now whereas the loudest hand staccato we can achieve

27


will add most to our reserves of muscular strength, it is also

likely to lead to insensitiveness of tone gradation in our

general style of playing, and therefore to do most of this

slow practice either delicately or with expressive tone grada-tions is preferable. Even famous public favourites, renownedfor their technique, who do a lot of ff slow practice, often

play their quick finger passages with a pianola-like sameness

of every syllable that can be regrettably inhuman in char-

acter. What should we think of an actress who accentuated

her syllables with equal force like this :

J I? J I J iJ 7 J J uThe qua-li -

ty of mer - cy is not strained

Let us build up our reserves of strength in other ways.

2. Group practice

That is, short groups, one at a time (Ex. 39^, b and c) :

Ex.39*.^

Ex.39b.

In (a) and (c) we recommence with each new group byrepeating the note upon which we ended the last one, andin () we swing on from that note, which has been held on.

With (*) the quavers should be staccatissimo as far as the

hand is concerned, although it is quite good to make themtemito by means of the pedal. It is strengthening to producethis staccatissimo by a rapid and tight fist-clench or an

equally rapid gathering of the fingertips into the minimum

space (see chapter 3, part II, for both movements). With (a)and () there would be three alternatives : the same gathering

28

Finger Passages

of the fingertips although the note is held on by the fingerthat played it ; putting as many fingers on the notes which

are to follow as can be reached from the one which is beingheld down ; or the apparently negative plan of leaving all the

fingers exactly where they are (horizontally speaking) whenthe dotted minim sounds. With the last two, it is better to

let all unoccupied fingers fall on the keys that are lying below

them than to hold them even a minute fraction of an inch

above the keys. Holding them in the air is almost certain to

result in a slight stiffness of the upper-arm at the shoulder

joint, the avoidance of which is fully discussed in chapter 15.This last matter leads to the next process.

3. See-sawing

See-sawing on every note, every other note and every fifth

note, as recommended in that same chapter.

4. Practising with one finger

This is surprisingly beneficial and helps you to know the

notes irrespective of the fingering by which you play them,

whereby the said fingering will come to be an extra securityinstead of the foundation upon which your safety is built.

Chapter 13 deals more fully with the subject.

5. Marking the beats with your other hand

This bears a superficial resemblance to practising with a

metronome, of which I am not personally in favour. There

are, be it noted, three important differences. First, that the

regularity of the beats is hand-made instead of machine-

made, allowing dogged persistence if this is required, or

alternatively a flexible and unobtrusive steadiness ; second,

that there is no tick-tack to drown some of the musical

effects and so prevent one from being critical regarding the

tone gradations ; third, that there is not only human will

controlling what is being done, but it is the player's ownwill on which dependence is being placed. The simplestmovements for our purpose will be a series of plain down

29


beats, say a couple of inches in size. To do these some-

times on one's knee and sometimes in the air is to be recom-

mended ; a clenched fist may help concentration or a gentle

forefinger may encourage delicacy in the execution. Thebeats should sometimes be robust and heavy, sometimes as

light as a feather, and so should the accents. It is very goodtraining to do heavy beats with light accents and light beats

with heavy accents.

6. Practising in this rhythm:

Although this sounds more flippant than the right rhythm,it still has the metrical and emotional stresses where Chopinwanted them. Some different rhythms alter the meaning of

the music more than is really desirable.

On Playing Works as a

Whole

THIS important aspect of performance was quaintly but

expressively implied by the oft-repeated phrase of an

American journalist whom I met at the Rubinstein Competi-tion in Petersburg (as it was then called) in 1910. If any of

us competitors achieved the kind of unified presentation he

particularly valued, the performance was described as an

"unbroken mood-line", and the same words were used if

he wanted to refer to a magnificent rendering of some great

masterpiece by his hero Artur Nikisch. Whatever words

are used, the thought may easily be neither more nor less

than an intellectual abstraction, but when it is a living

reality there are few, if any, factors that do so much to ensure

that the audience will be carried away by the music. Audi-

ences may be carried away by other things the personalloveliness or fame of the player, exciting or eccentric move-

ments, the phenomenal rapidity of the passages and other

factors which may be interpretatively irrelevant but the

assertion refers to occasions when the music itself potentlyreaches the minds and hearts of the listeners. How then are

we to maintain these unbroken mood-lines ? A few suggest-ions may prove helpful. For one thing, much can be

learned by simply playing pieces right through. Perhaps I


do this more often than I recommend it to others (practise

other than preach, you may say), though how much it influ-

ences the unity of the whole depends upon what thoughts

are borne in mind as we play. Obsession with note correct-

ness, for instance, clarity of pedalling, legato in the inner

voices, and so on, might easily reduce the special advantages

from the point of view of unity, though the mere fact of

not stopping will at least accustom one's ear to continuity.

Thinking pieces right through without any playing at all

(either with or without the music) is another good idea. So

is playing them right through on the surface of the keys (see

chapter 8), or conducting an imagined performance.

It is also useful to play nothing but the main melodic line,

equivalent to the thread of the musical discourse. Yet

another alternative is to play through to the end softly

(perhaps even on the slow side), without dramatic character-

isation in the sounds. This is like softly murmuring words

over and meditating on their meanings without any outward

tokens thereof. If you were to utter the fiery sentences of

the great curse from Shelley's Prometheus Unbound \

Fiend, I defy thee, with a sufferer's curse

All that thou canst inflict I bid thee do

in a slow dreamy monotone, it would be rather similar ; but

it can be a revealing study in teaching us how far the

unaided music can tell us its own tale, how, for instance, the

very "scoring" may build up a mighty edifice without any

dynamic observances. It can certainly help us to think of

continuity for its own sake and in no way prevents us from

planning our eventual interpretation.

It may seem out of place here to concentrate for a while

on making each individual phrase complete in itself, but it is

symbolic of our present quest and a foundation upon which

larger and ever larger units can gradually be reared. If you

sing each phrase right through without taking breath just

before you play it, and then while playing it keep this vocal

3*

On Playing Works as a Whole

effort in mind, the result will be marked by a certain unmis-

takable unity. Building up on this foundation, day by day,a possible week's programme for a complete sonata wouldbe as follows :

Monday Play your work phrase by phrase, first singingaloud each phrase on one breath.

Tuesday Play lengths of about sixteen bars at a time with

suitable stopping places (each of them to be decided uponbeforehand) and substituting mental rehearsals for singing,if preferred. If you sing, taking breath will now be unavoid-

able, of course, but after playing your sixteen bars youshould ask yourself: "Did it go forward in one onward

sweep ?"

Wednesday Play about a page at a time, with the unified

imaginary performance first, and considered verdict after-

wards.

Thursday Play lengths like exposition, development,

recapitulation, coda, each complete as above.

Friday Whole movements complete as above.

Saturday Whole movements straight through without

anticipatory mental preparation, critically noticing whether

one's own feelings achieve the specially desired continuity.

Sunday The whole sonata as on Saturday.If the week's work is too closely concentrated you could

give two or three days to each of the treatments and by this

multiplication spread the whole undertaking over a longer

period.The task before us is twofold, to grasp the principle and

to realise it in actual performance. Similes can be a help. Wemight try to carry our piece through as on one tidal wave.

We might think of a short story or novel (if there is one)which we have read straight through without being able to

put the book down. The memory ofjourneys in which it has

not been necessary to change trains or get on and off boats

could intensify our appreciation of non-interruption. Manyyears ago Adrian Boult wrote some invaluable words in

his handbook on conducting for students of that craft:

33


"Remember that at rehearsal you must always think back,

and in performance you must always think forward" so

simply put that we may not realise their full value at a first

reading. Compare "think forward" with the idea of a tidal

wave or a favourite ejaculation of Tobias Matthay whowould punctuate a pupil's performance with the magic word

"towards" in a stage whisper, thrown in at intervals like the

spurrings of horsemen in bygone days. If enough has been

said, it may yet be necessary for a lot to be done about

playing our works as a whole.

34

Double Thirds

SOME piano teachers who are precise in their choice

of words (a truly estimable thing) object to the expression"double thirds" as applied to thirds played by one hand.

But we speak of double notes for passages of regular or

assorted thirds, fourths, sixths, and so on, in a way similar

to, if less logical than, the string players with their double

stops. The expression "double thirds" seems to follow and

has in any case become a kind of technical term. It is used

here with apologies to those who dislike it.

The aspiring student should hasten on to double thirds

long before his single notes reach a high standard, for theyare muscularly strengthening, they give the mind more

occupation per semiquaver than the single notes, and their

execution automatically keeps all five fingers closer to the

keys (a desirable thing in playing every kind of passage).With double-third scales the occasions when orthodox

fingerings should be used in an actual piece are rarer than

might be supposed, and apart from the possible require-ments of examinations it is better to be equipped with readi-

ness for all sojrts of fingering than wedded to one. Eleven

different fingerings, applied regardless of discomfort to all

the diatonic scales in double thirds, provide a wide founda-

tion of general resourcefulness, mental and physical, and

are here recommended.

The eleven fingerings fall into three classes: recurrent

groups (three of these), mixed groups (five) and "organ

35


fingerings" (three). Let us take recurrent groups first. With

recurrent pairs you reach the beginning notes of the scale

with the same fingers after two octaves (Ex. 40) :

Ex.40. a 4 4 sempre simile

Jia 4 sempre simile

The slurs are not essential, nor is the rhythm, but both helpto fix the idea of the fingering. Both voices, or either voice,

can be totally legato all the time. It will be noticed that westart again for the return journey, thereby producingdifferent fingers on the individual thirds.

With recurrent groups of three, three octaves will be

required to round off the plan and with recurrent groups of

four, four octaves (Exx. 41 and 42) :

Ex.4i. , B ^ srBJff * * * \^ sempre simile ^ sempre simile \

Double Thirds

What was said before again applies to the slurs and rhythm.On the outward journeys the soprano in the right hand andthe bass in the left hand can be legato, on the returnjourneysthe alto and tenor, respectively. Sellinger's Round by Byrdgives a delightful opportunity for recurrent pairs (Ex. 43) :

Ex.43.

RJH.

whether we elect to play the quavers in slurred pairs or

sempre staccato. In the "Waldstein" Sonata, this passageseems made for recurrent threes (Ex. 44) :

Ex.44.

and in Haydn's last sonata recurrent fours have much to

recommend them (Ex. 45) :

Ex.45.

j t j f s 1 1 nTjMixed groups are five in number, three of which combine

pairs and threes, and the other two threes and fours. All

five result in the same notes getting the same fingers in

every octave as in single-note scales. Threes and fours (Exx.

46, 47, 48, 49 and 50) give us the principle upon which

LJ LJ f

is.

37


x.48.*-H; |

4} J .

* i a !. i i 4 i

modern orthodox fingering is based, if this is less obvious

when the scale begins in the middle of a group.The rhythms in all the above examples are unessential as

before, but as in Ex. 40, they fix the idea of the fingeringin our minds.

All the fingerings submitted so far will strengthenthe fingers, particularly when practised with a bumpystaccato either with forearm or hand touch. At some time or

other it will also be advantageous to practise one voice onlywith whichever fingering is being used, for this, although

38

Double Thirds

confusing when first attempted, makes for increased securityin the end.

"Organ fingering" is a coined phrase suggested by the

frequency with which the characteristic changes of fingerson held notes is seen in organ playing. A very few legatochords on the organ or harmonium make the need for such

changes evident. Regarding the first two, it is not claimed

that a whole scale would often, or indeed ever, be thus

fingered (Exx. 51 and 52) :

Ex.5I.a aaaa a a a a & a a a21 21 21 21 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12@ 3^P

*r r p IF^ â a a a a a a aaaa

84 84 M 84 84 83

Ex.52. 54 a a 64 a 64 64 64 ^ a 45 aaaaT> BT 32 82 32 82 82 82 82 82 23 23 23 23 23 23 23 23

m m 1ua.*

= Pa a a =1

but our practice of whole scales renders moments like this

(Ex. 53) :

legato

st

legato

easier when they occur. In slow passages this fingering

(Ex.54):

j r r ii

1 ' '

p< '

"j p

Lii

_i^

L '

aL *

2 5i I ii f 57* * "} aM 4 5J 4 W 4 U 4 |S*

|| J g -I g

* "^

is often the best way to get a really tranquil legato.

39


In these rapid changes, the quicker they are made, the

greater the danger of a note speaking twice ; when that is

avoided, the sensitiveness of control and swiftness of action

by the fingers involved may well be unapparent to a listener,

who could easily suppose the practiser to be almost going to

sleep. Ex. 52 is highly recommended for the weak fingers ;

hefty passages, sounding considerably more vigorous, often

fail to produce so much technical progress.

It should be a habit from the first to make the change of

fingers include the preparation of the next notes (see chapter

1 7). For instance, in Ex. 51 get | on the surface of the keys

indicated by the diamond-shaped silent notes, thus (Ex. 55) :

Ex.55.fi**

In Ex. 54, not only get f prepared at the moment of change

but 5 as well (Ex. 56) :

Note that while the finger-changes in Ex. 55 can be in one

flash, those in Ex. 56 must occupy two flashes of time

(although every effort should be made to make them seem

like one) because the fifth finger must wait till the third is

down on G, and the third cannot leave E till the thumb has

got secure hold thereof; these are actions that cannot be

simultaneous. Even if the organ fingerings were never goingto be used in scale passages later on, the practice of them

would nevertheless be of immense value in training one's

fingers for many of the requirements of legato part-playing.

One of my most talented pupils at the Royal College of

Music once said to a fellow-student : "If I did all the things

Mr. Merrick tells me to do I should go out of my mind."

Fortunately this witticism was passed on by the lively girl

to whom it was addressed. This chapter tends to bring it

to mind, and where so many alternatives lie before us it is a

good thing to work at one set for a fortnight or so and then

40

Double Thirds

go on to another set, and thus gradually gain some experi-ence of all. Along the route organised variety should be

sought major and minor, loud and soft, legato and staccato,

selected keys, and so on. Rarely do too much of the same

thing on end, but remember what has been done so that

little or nothing is left out eventually.You may ask how to make a final choice from among

such a bewildering array of alternatives. When their char-

acter is familiar, however, this will often be fairly easy.Should there be any doubt, factors that help a decision are

easiness to read and remember, easiness in combining the

two hands, the avoidance of gaps or bumps or both, the

chances of minimising or covering up gaps by the use of

the pedal (which may spoil a passage when used to conceal

one gap while beautifully suiting the same passage when

concealing another), whether an unavoidable gap should bein the upper or lower voice, and of course the position of the

black keys. Notice critically the effect, both musical and

physical, when the thumb is placed on black keys ; only if

the movements are really too clumsy or the musical effect

is unavoidably bad is it unwise to adopt unorthodox finger-

ings of this forbidden sort. This advice does not proceedfrom perversity or inconoclasm, and is prompted partly bythe fact that when the thumb is placed on a black key it

gives the arm a slight forward swing, with a corresponding

raising of the wrist a position from which benefit is often

reaped.If all the double-third scale practice results in less tech-

nical progress than we had hoped for, the exercises which

follow, however lamentably dry, will prove a useful supple-ment (Ex. 57) :

Ex.57

This is to be continued up the major scale till the


sixteenth bar, which will be the second bar an octave higher.The grace notes should be as light and quick as possible. If

the crotchets are firm and decisive it is of secondary import-ance whether the grace notes are well or badly executed !

They will stand to improve in any case. The accentuation of

the crotchets will be musically and rhythmically helped if

the moment they sound we clench our fists as swiftly as we

can, not relaxing this iron grip until, say, the fourth beat of

the bar.

The next step is this (Ex. 58) :

pand what was said before about the grace notes will now

apply to the semiquavers.The exercises should be transposed into all the other

major keys, in some of which they may be found more

tricky to play. The many differences of position in relation

to the black keys will be of muscular benefit, there will betwelves times as much ground to cover, and both the neigh-bours' and the practiser's own ears will experience decidedrelief from the changes of sound. Later on, the whole-toneclusters of Ex. 22 can provide a welcome variety of musical

effect while spreading the fingers slightly wider apart.

42

8

Practising on the Surface

ofthe Keys

I HAVE advocated this very persistently for many years,and was most pleased and interested in reading Victor

Booth's We Piano Teachers to find that he, too, was extremelyconvinced of its importance. It is valuable at every stage ; I

generally recommend it to new pupils in their first lesson,

and I myself often play complete works or even recital

programmes through in this way.The more accustomed you are to playing on the surface

of the keys the more do you mentally live the music youwould be hearing if you had pressed the keys down and the

more sensitively aware do your fingers become whether theyare on the right keys or not. It is better to do this work with-

out looking at the keys, but even if you do look at them

(either because you must or because you wish to) much bene-

fit will still be derived. You will become ever-increasinglyused in actual playing to touching keys consciously before

you press them down, reducing thereby smudginess of exe-

cution, faulty gauging of the pressure to be exerted (which

produces tonal effects of all kinds which you do not intend),

playing this and that not quite at the ideal moment, and so

on. Benefit from the point ofview of memory is considerable

and will be further emphasised in chapter 24.

43


An advantage that you might never dream of theoretically

is that the poise of your arms during the silent practice is

likely to be an ideal one. The ideal poise between special

efforts, and one which should be recovered at as frequentintervals as possible, is that in which the upper arm is quiteloose at the shoulder, ready to be sent swinging forward in the

see-sawing movement of chapter 1 5 at a moment's notice. If

you call this condition a state of easeful vigilance, its motive

and value stand out with especial clarity. Another advantageis the frequency with which a wrong note which one had not

heard when playing aloud (in some rapid passage, perhaps)can be detected. When this happens you may feel humilia-

tion first, but certainly gratitude after. "Mentalising one's

technique" is a phrase that has been quoted before ;our sur-

face practice is a great help in doing that, and you could

call each bout of it a semi-mental rehearsal.

Silent practice of all kinds spares your ears and those of

your neighbours ;it can providentially save the situation if a

sudden engagement makes it imperative to work far into the

night when neither household inmates nor neighbours could

tolerate audible work. Practice on the surface ofthe keys is also

a grand remedy when pieces have become stale and you dare

not give them a rest because they will be needed on a givendate in the near future. Playing a work through in that wayonce a day for a week or a fortnight, and otherwise not

working at it at all, will often remove all traces of staleness

without the risk of giving it the total rest it appears to need ;

for staleness is really a sense that the sounds are unwelcomeas you press the keys down, and touching the keys without

pressing them gradually creates a tantalised longing to hear

again the very sounds from which you had begun to shrink.

Did not one of Shaw's doctors say ; "Cure guaranteed"?

44

9

The Postman's Knock

IF we can produce a sharp staccato without withdrawing our

hand from the keyboard, a lot of time and energy will be

saved, but this knack is not often acquired without careful

cultivation. Theoretically it is self-evident that two efforts

of will and action to press-the-key-down-first and lift-the-

hand-away-second should take longer than press-the-key-

down-but-don't~continue-doing-so. The slip 'twixt cup and

lip, however, is that in the second case one's cessation of

effort (or relaxation of the pressure) will probably be slug-

gish. Is it too much to call the following a sovereign remedy?The postman's knock rhythm gives accentuation like the

word "defy" : >-{ . Compare this with the word "hurry" :

FH I . It is humiliatingwhen a desperate effort to produce

one of these results in the other. But with due perseverancewe shall learn to get our postman's knock, and whenever we

do, the physical speed that rendered the minim louder than

the acciaccatura must have followed the acciaccatura so that

the musical desire to produce a postman's knock has cajoled

out of us an unusually rapid key descent.

Now for > I . The rebound of an indiarubber ball corres-

ponds in rapidity to the speed with which the ball has

reached wall or floor. Relaxation of an effort will be like this.

45


But how can we know whether what we do is relaxation or

a lift? The answer can be delivered with the scornful

triumph of a child : "Easy !" If the finger remains on the

surface of the key instead of in the air even a millionth of an

inch away, the staccato cannot have contained any element

of a lift. So when you hear (i) that the accentuation has been

>J and (2) that the staccato has been sharp Jand feel (3)

that your finger has not left the key, you have achieved an

ideally executed staccato beyond possibility of dispute.

Often practise staccato passages with the double rap of

postman's knocks (Ex. 59) :

Ex.59. Mendelssohn: Scherzo

f as intie composition

as well as passages with some tenutos in them (Ex. 60) :

Ex.60. BralimB: Ballade inG minor

Vri 3E ii

pausing at each double rap to make sure you have been suc-

cessful in all three respects perhaps at the pace of ^40*When you later test the value of such work by trying the

passage up to time with the acciaccaturas left out, a benefi-

cial result can be safely predicted.

10

Practising in Solid Chords

THIS usually gives us what was at the back of the com-

poser's mind when he composed the passages that can be so

treated. You cannot write the figures of a clock face on paperunless you first trace a circle on which to put them, or

imagine a circle sufficiently vividly to be able to dispensewith the visible line.

The solid chords give us not only the harmony but the

chord positions on the keyboard, thus producing extra tech-

nical safety by systematised economy of thought and

movement. Here for instance (Ex, 61) :

Ex.61.caniabile

we have four anxieties per bar instead of sixteen. We can

also listen to the melody with all its harmonies unprejudicedin our own favour by the magical glamour of the softly

murmuring accompaniment.The next two examples (Exx. 6a and 63) :

Sx. 62. Brahms: Rhapsody in Ominor

47


are chosen out of hundreds of equally suitable ones. Thetreatment in Ex. 63 can be carried right through the pieceuntil the final four chords. My usual advice is to play the

Ex.63. Chopin: Prelude in Ft

simplified chordal version three or four times as often as the

passage itself.

Chopin's Study, op. 25, no. 12, can be very happily"solidified". It will be seen that the last chord position in

bars like the first one contains the top two notes only instead

of the three previously demanded by the passage (Ex. 64) :

Ex.64. Chopin: Study, op. 25, no. 12.

s*zyiH r uw* *

In the fifteenth bar the semiquavers rise an octave higherthan they have been doing and this (Ex. 65) ;

Ex. 65.

gives us the best rhythm in which to play our solid chords

at that point. In bar sixteen (Ex. 66a and ) :

x.66a. Ex.66b.

as nearly solid as possible will be better than this (Ex. 67) :

Ex. 67.

Practising in Solid Chords

whichever of the two exemplifies the fingering you intend to

adopt. When solid chords suggest a new fingering it will

generally prove to be an improvement, but when that cannot

be, to take note and mark well any lack of correspondencewill reduce the danger of later incertitude. Even mutteringsuch words as "unrepresentative of the passage work" is

better than unawareness of that danger. In bar forty-two, the

right hand should treat the third beat like this (Ex. 68) :

Ex.68.

At the end of bar fifty-seven, the two hands should play thus

(Ex. 69) :

Ex.69.

and the best plan for the left hand at the very end is probablythis (Ex. 70) :

Ex. 70.

Nearly the whole of Chopin's op. 10, no. 7, can be

practised thus (Ex. 71) :

Ex. 71. Chopin: Study, op. 10, no. 7

\ 4

the same device of playing the thumb and second finger

simultaneously still acting in the final ascent, though across

the beat instead of within it.

In op. 25, no. i, we see how after six bars of simple

treatment (Ex. 72) :

49


Ex, 72.

a little humouring enables the chords played to go on

exemplifying the fingering (Ex, 73) :

Ex.73.

When a figure contains an unessential note it can often be

very musically fitted into a chordal version of the passageif you play it as an acciaccatura (Ex. 74*2 and &) ;

Ex.74a* Ch : Fantasy Impromptu Ex. 74b,

The musical effect of passages solidified as in the examplesof this chapter is often lovelier than the passages themselves

as we have been playing them. When we begin to wish theyhad been written that way the magical charm is doing its

beneficent work. The harvest may be considered to be fully

reaped when we can confidently manage two things : (i) to

imagine the composer's figuration while we are playing thesolid chords, and (2) to imagine the chords when we are

playing the composer's figuration.

II

Octaves

OCTAVE scales and arpeggios in all the keys, major and

minor, make good preliminary practising material and help

one to know one's way about the keyboard from a standpoint

markedly different from that familiarised by ordinarily fin-

gered scales in single notes. To continue each scale or

arpeggio for a distance of two octaves is a good idea when

both hands are playing together, this rhythm for ascent and

descent (Ex. 75) :

Ex.75.

being convenient for the scales, and this (Eec. 76) :

Ex.76. _ _.-j ^ ^

~iF

for the arpeggios. When both hands are playing together it

is sometimes a welcome change to have them a third, sixth

or tenth apart instead of an octave's distance. Perhaps it mayalso be well to use the tone-schemes recommended in

chapter 3, part II, if these activities are pursued for more


than a day or two. Leaving scales behind, we could proceedin due course to the prettier Czerny Studies and their like,and add octaves to them (Exx. 77 and 78) :

Ex.77. Czerny: Left Hand Study

Ex.78. Czerny: Studyf op.740,no.3

then after further progress to the Two-part Inventions ofBach (see chapter 13). Staccato octaves will be the main con-

cernôfthis chapter, and for these a practical mechanism is

one in which the octave gauge is firmly maintained betweenthe thumb and fifth

finger, the movement coming fromthe wrist, elbow or shoulder. If the gauge is not held

firmly enough at the moment of playing any octave it

will be like trying to move something with a stick thatbends.

preparatory steps in which the firmness of the hand, com-bined with

flexibility at the wrist or elsewhere, is ensured andbecomes familiar in sensation are (i) to clench the fists andplay only the thumb notes, and (2) to gather the fingertipsclosely together and play only the fifth finger notes (with the

tip of the fifth finger, of course). Being able to measurethe intervals with each concerned finger separately makes it

safer and easier^to

measure them afterwards with both atonce. In preserving the aforesaid octave gauge later, it willreduce the muscular effort involved for the thumb and fifth

finger if the second, third and fourth are held firmly pressedtogether (or either adjacent pair of these musically unoccu-pied fingers).

Octaves

For wrist work it is good to play passages of staccato

octaves slowly, drawing your hand lightly and swiftly rightoff the keyboard to produce each staccato as though youwere brushing a grain of sand off the edge. This is a follow-

through of the ideal wrist action required to play an octave,

a chord, or even a single note, in which the movement should

have ceased the moment the keys are down. Your follow-

through should be carried as far as possible, giving a sensa-

tion at the wrist like the final turn of a watch-key when youcannot move it any further. At the moment it may feel a

slight strain but there is no danger in it. It strengthens the

muscles for wrist action and loosens the wrist joint at the

same moment. Ifyou cease the effort the moment the finger-

tips are as far as possible from the edge of the keys, the

hand will fly back an inch or more in the direction from

which it has just come, a most helpful instance of the

springiness that produces staccato without a second effort of

lifting away. Later on use the same action with its follow-

through on beats only instead of every octave, l:ke the

"group practice" in chapter 5.

For heavy whole-arm work a useful sort of follow-through

(though this one contains no element of return spring or

movement) is to pull the hands away from the keyboarduntil the elbows are as far behind your back as you can getthem (see "rowing" in chapter 15). Later you will find that

less than an inch of this same movement (with the keys still

held down in fact) helps you to ensure a certain mellowness

instead of thumpiness in ff (mostly on account of causes you

might hardly suspect), and also to cultivate looseness at the

shoulder (chapter 15 again) allied to a springy condition of

the upper arm.

Legato octaves are a very different matter. Their execu-

tion is mostly achieved by independent finger action, backed

up (perhaps especially in/) by forward and backward swing-

ing of the arm ("see-sawing", in fact chapter 15 yet again)

for alternate octaves. Here again the thumb notes only and

then the other notes of the octaves only, will be excellent

53


preparatory practice. Now although I once had a girl pupilwho could play legato octaves with this fingering (Ex. 79) :

Ex.79.

i

such a stretch is phenomenal in man or woman and we can

say that it is normally impossible to play octaves finger-

legato in both voices. In view of this it is generally muchbetter for one voice to be very legato and the other quite

detached, than for both to be nearly legato. And as a rule

the artful assistance of the pedal is indispensable in addition

to any finger legato we can achieve. Even when the effect is

acoustically legato, that on the listener's mind will often fail

to satisfy because subtle matters of accentuation are so far-

reaching. A slight bump on a half-beat, for instance, will

very often sound as if there must have been a break in the

continuity of tone, even when there certainly was none.

12

Simplified Versions ofDifficult Passages%/ o

SOME publications, like the Hall6 Classics with which I

was familiar as a small child, preface the pieces with pre-

liminary exercises or special advice as to how to overcome

the difficulties. The exercises are all too often mere variants

of the figures presenting technical difficulty and rarely

develop the student's preception of the musical meaningsof the piece. It would be better if the latter consideration

were always kept to the fore as it can and should be with

the examples that follow. The ideal thing is that the various

processes should be made as beautiful as possible with the

gist of the music so clearly presented that an audience

could enjoy listening to each process in turn.

Let us take Chopin's A flat Study, op. 25, no. I, first. It

was recommended in chapter 10 that you should practise it

thus (Ex. 80) :

Ex.80. t

IThis might be followed by playing the right hand as it is

written and the left hand as above and then vice versa.

55


Another pair of complementary processes is for one hand to

play what is written and the other hand the first note of

every beat, making a slight change when the right hand is

playing the single notes by giving it this (Ex. 8 1) :

Ex.81.

rrni,gin bars fifteen and sixteen. A third pair of complementary

processes is to stop in the middle of every beat and omit

the notes that complete it (Ex. 82) :

and to leave the first half of every beat similarly incomplete

(Ex. 83) :

Ex. 83.

In the first forty-three whole bars, the first process consists

in playing the converging notes of the figure, and the

second, the diverging notes. The second will be found

rather less easy and rather less lovely than the first because

the note on which you have to stop may be more difficult to

reach, and often does not belong to the old harmony so that

it sounds a bit gaunt until the rest of the beat fills up the

empty space. From bar forty-four onwards it will in the first

case be the descending notes that are omitted, and in the

second, the ascending. So the first process is all convergingsand then ascents while the second is all divergings and then

descents. With every process it will be preferable to play

right to the end of this piece, always omitting the trill and

Simplified Versions of Difficult Passages

turn in the left hand, thus preserving throughout the essen-

tial element of simplification.For the G flat Study from op. 25 certain processes imme-

diately present themselves. First this (Ex. 84) :

in which the alternative physical actions recommended in

chapter 3, part II, will all be of service. In bars ten, twelve

and fourteen, the second break will be a quaver later :

Next, left hand as written, right hand playing nothing but

the melody right through (Ex. 85) :

etc.

Then right hand as written, left hand two quavers a bar only,

giving us the essential bass voice. Three notes instead of two

will be necessary in the eighth bar (Ex. 86) :

Ex.86.

In the coda reasonable simplifications on similar lines would

be these (Ex. 87a and F) :

Ex.87b.

J I J h *J i J I

Ex.87a.

ending in either case with this (Ex. Bye) :

Ex.87o. _

These two complementary processes can be played first with

fingering that suits the simplified version and later with the

57


fingers that will have to be used when the omitted notes

are restored.

The left-hand part, though not the official difficulty of

this study, is difficult enough. It will be worthwhile to

practise it by itself with fist clenches, and so on (four to the

bar at first), and also with another quaint device taking all

the single notes with the wrong finger. Try the thumb first,

then second, third, fourth and only then the correct fifth

finger.1 These apparently perverse alternatives will greatly

improve your skill in tackling leaps, and when you begin to

enjoy the fruits of all this labour you can further improve

your skill by playing all those single notes, with the different

fingers, an octave lower than they are written !

For the C minor Study, op. 10, no. 12, let us consider at

least two processes. First, playing all the melody in single

notes (the top note of each chord or octave) while the left-

hand part is unaltered. Second, playing the right-hand part

unaltered while the left-hand part is simplified to the utter-

most. This latter will work out as follows :

In the introduction only play this (Ex. 88) :

Ex.88.

When the big tune comes in (bar ten), play nothing but the

low 'cello Cs for five bars, holding them on as semibreves andminims. Then this (Ex. 89) :

Ex.89.

u . u.i L.J i ir * - m

the essential bass voice in fact. Continue with the essential

bass voice, and at points which you can easily recognise a

chord instead of one note will twice be preferable (Ex. 90) :

Ex90. a

1 When octaves occur instead of single notes, take the high road or the low road as

preferred*

Simplified Versions of Difficult Passages

and on the last page this (Ex. 9 1) :

Ex.91.

Although the difficult left-hand part is the principal element

from the study point of view, the right-hand part gives us

the essential melodic thread of the musical discourse. The

danger of the left-hand passage work becoming the player'smain preoccupation and the right hand merely synchron-

ising with the accompaniment in a servile manner is there-

fore considerable and the right hand must learn to be the

soloist and dominate the performance while the left hand,

intensely dramatic though its contribution should be, must

act as a loyal and wary accompanist.It should be apparent that although the suggestions in

this chapter all refer to the practising of entire pieces there

will be innumerable cases where similar treatment will be of

equal use for much shorter passages. Once the idea of sim-

plified versions has been accepted, there is practically no

end to the occasions on which it will come to our rescue.

'3

Practising with One Finger

THIS may seem when first suggested foolish to the point

of futility,but its beneficial effects can be far-reaching. Par-

ticularly valuable is the habit in studying such independent

counterpoint as that of a Two-part Invention by Bach, in

which the eventual effect should be that of an equally

matched duet. Try playing any one of those Inventions with

your thumbs only for the whole piece (omitting ornaments

if any), then with the second finger only, and the third,

fourth and fifth only in turn, and finally with sensible finger-

ing. Your familiarity with the music and its contrapuntal

intricacies in the actual playing, when it comes to this

sixth effort, will probably be much greater than if you had

played the music six times with the proper fingering, for

the one finger insistently draws your attention to the

ceaseless changes from similar to oblique and contrary

motion.

It is no longer one finger if we play the whole piece in

octaves, but it fulfils many of the same purposes including

knowing where the notes are to be found on the keyboard.It may comfort us to reflect that this will bear some resem-

blance to the effect of using an octave coupler on the harpsi-

chord, although the right hand will have to play the octave

above and the left hand the octave below to prevent the

hands from getting in each other's way. In itself it will be

better for our general mastery of octave playing than using

60

Practising with One Finger

studies of the dry type. Meanwhile the five fingers, the

octaves and the sensible fingering give us a sevenfold ritual

and this, apart from the occult blessings of that particular

number, is arithmetically one better than six.

Many years ago a famous singer was asked by an eager

young student why the class was told to practise a givenexercise and the reply was : "Oh ! you leave that to me, and

do the exercise !" Surely one should always welcome

enquiries even if they seem hostile or over-sceptical ; it givesone a chance to rake up a further list of benefits. Here is one

more important benefit : if you sing intervals, the wide ones

occasion a special vocal effort. This (Ex. 92) :

Ex.92.i

is a slight effort, and this (Ex. 93) ;

a much greater one. To play these notes with one finger (as

printed below the notes) instead ofwith natural legato finger-

ing (as printed above the notes) helps us to mean the chosen

intervals vocally as well as correlating the vocal meaningwith the keyboard distances. The benefits described in the

last sentence are considerable and although they may seem

remote or purely theoretical as you read the words, they are

a great deal more as you play the notes. When the idea of

vocalised intention is well rooted in your playing, the perils

of such skips as these (Ex. 94) :

Ex.94. Chopim Ballade in G minorL.H


will be very perceptibly lessened by singing the bass voice

of the passage, thus (Ex. 95) :

Bx.95.

M J * Mf * * J * Hf M j M IJ

in your mind as you play, however useful and necessary anyfurther expedients may be.

62

Fugal Study

WITH many of the problems of playing I am temptedto cut out some of the ritual advocated in these chapters, andwhen I do so, hoping to save the time and patience of someof the brighter pupils, I generally regret it afterwards. Witha four-part fugue it nearly always pays to insist on over

twenty separate processes, and if these are carried out the

comfort and relaxation of many more mere playings throughcan be allowed without the risks that often attend heedless

enjoyment.As a preliminary to the first ten processes, divide your

fugue into sections like fare stages on a 'bus route. The first

fugue in "The Forty-eight" is easily divisible by means of

cadences in different keys (G, A minor, D and then two in

C) into five sections. Then, a section at a time, play through,as expressively as possible, each of the four voices separately,

beginning with the bass and working upwards to the

soprano. In some fugues, where voices cross or leave off, it

is quite puzzling to know which notes belong to which

voice and it is better to write out all such doubtful passagesin score on as many staves as there are voices, than to be

uncertain at any point. The separate voices should be fol-

lowed immediately by playing the sections through with two

voices at a time, the lower with the left hand and the upperwith the right hand. In doing this, if a unison occurs, playit scrupulously with both hands, although that is usually

63


unwise in ordinary playing. The best order for these six

processes is as follows : (i) tenor with the right hand, bass

with the left; (2) alto right hand, bass left

; (3) soprano

right hand, bass left ; (4) alto right hand, tenor left;

soprano right hand, tenor left; (6) soprano right hand, alto

left. You will soon realise that if you had done your ten

processes for more than a section you would have forgottenthe melodic outline of the single voices when you came to

combine them in pairs.

These first ten processes are fascinating, the two voices at

a time revealing a good many beauties that could very easily

have escaped notice. At the same time, since they constitute

a somewhat microscopic examination of the texture of the

fugue, they need to be supplemented by a bird's-eye view

of the whole when we have completed our task with the

sections. For this, let us play the extreme voices only of the

whole fugue straight through. At every actual point we have

done this already, but playing the extreme voices mighthave coincided at a given point with process five, six, seven,

eight, nine or ten, and in this fugue does coincide with five

out of those six alternatives. We must pass from one to the

other, therefore, as the music dictates. Remorselessly doingthis will sometimes produce an unpleasing fault (as the

geologists would call it) and such overlapping as this in bar

twenty (Ex. 96) :

should be welcomed whenever it saves one from some effect

of musical illiteracy like the consecutive octaves which wereavoided here.

To the fugally experienced our eleven processes may seem

easy, but for the average student it is quite usual after a

week's work at them still to get entangled here and there.VB/ ^X

As soon as all eleven are mastered they will have done much

Fugal Study

to show us what the playing of the fugue contrapuntally

needs, however little they have done to achieve it. We are

therefore just ready for processes twelve and thirteen. In

both we play the complete fugue straight through with

every note staccato, except the last one. You may well ask

why. And you might argue that it is as monstrous as the

conductor of a village band who told his players to read a

difficult new thing just arrived from London "without the

accidentals". But no 1 We see that a great deal of the diffi-

culty of fugue playing is in holding one note on in one voice

while another note in another voice is let go, often to moveon somewhere else. If this difficulty is temporarily elimin-

ated by staccato playing in every voice, and if the notes and

rhythm themselves are both correct, it is something of a

revelation to experience how much of the gist of the music

can still be divined. In the meantime, granting that one has

not yet mastered the fugue (for in such a case further pro-cesses might be superfluous) this staccato treatment will give

you a reasonable chance of doing the task that has been set

with a hundred per cent, accuracy and knowing whether youhave done so. It may surprise the reader to be advised to playall the tied notes again in these staccato versions. One reason

for this is that it involves the registering of every printednote in the mind by the fingers, but a more important one

is the way that it emphasises the dissonance of many sus-

pensions and the beauty as each of them gets resolved.

But it is time to explain why there should be a pair of

staccato processes. Twelve is to be without pedal and thir-

teen with pedaL Twelve will be very disconnected, there-

fore, and it may humorously comfort you to pretend that

you are a string quartet, that all four bows were stolen bya rival quartet leader, and that as rehearsal is imperative it

has to be sempre pizzicato. Thirteen will naturally sound

more connected than twelve but will need care if it is not to

be too smudgy. If the pedal is changed about four times a

bar in our C major fugue, the occasional smudges will pro-

bably give a less confused effect than legato organ playing

65


in an echoey church. Neat changes will involve a less sharpstaccato at the moments of change than elsewhere, but this

is all to the good in training our fingers to cling on a little

longer when occasion demands. If they fail to do so in these

cases it is like handing someone a scalding cup of tea and

letting go of the saucer before you can feel that the recipient

has got hold of it. At points where our crotchet pedalling is

unpleasantly smudgy, it should be modified to suit the pro-

gressions ;we gradually gain increased skill in divining what

is desirable and carrying it out nicely when it has been

decided upon. It may be emphasised here that all this

pedalling with the staccato playing is a very good appren-

ticeship for later pedalling during legato performance. Well-

pedalled Bach is very often preferable to unpedalled, just as

sunlight adds radiance to a landscape.Fourteen and fifteen are severely practical and are exam-

ples of delayed continuity as advocated in chapter I, thoughthe units are necessarily very short. In fourteen the pausesfor reflection are at regular intervals, say twice a bar (Ex. 97):

Bx.07.

your main duty being not to play the next bit until you have

successfully done so in your head. In fifteen the pauses are

at irregular intervals as in this (Ex. 98) :

Ex.93.

and in fulfilling your duty, two points are of special import-ance. One is deciding where the next pause shall be before

"pushing off", and if a difficult moment has been reached

a quarter of a bar fully mastered will be better than half a

bar or more with a defect. The other is to be sure to stopwhere you decided you would, instead of drifting on heed-

lessly in your joy because Scylla or Charibdis has been

safely passed.Sixteen to twenty-seven are the cream of all the processes.

66

Fugal Study

With talented pupils it is sometimes possible to scrap the

first fifteen, though often enough it may prove worthwhile

to have recourse to them afterwards if this or that weakness

makes its appearance. In sixteen to nineteen you play the

whole fugue straight through, in sixteen singing the bass

voice as well, in seventeen, eighteen and nineteen the tenor,

alto and soprano respectively. With a woman's voice someof this singing will have to be an octave or more too high,with a man's voice an octave or more too low unless he has

a falsetto to fall back upon or prefers to whistle (an octave or

more too high). Unexpected difficult moments will some-

times give us considerable trouble and by the time we can

really sing the right notes in one voice a mistake may occur

in the playing of another. We must rely on getting this

straightened out when we come to sing the voice in whichthis mistake occurred.

Now whereas we have been focusing special attention

upon one voice while playing all four, and actually makingthe one louder by adding vocal tone to it in sixteen to nine-

teen, in twenty to twenty-three we again focus special atten-

tion on the one voice (bass, tenor, alto, soprano, in that

order), but by playing it louder* Sixteen to nineteen helps%

you to achieve twenty to twenty-three and vice versa.

Twenty-four to twenty-seven consist in listening attentively

to the four voices in turn and in a lesser degree will producean effect similar to twenty to twenty-three because the voice

to which you are listening will come out rather louder than

the others, although less so than when you are trying to

bring it out. If you play a few bars and ask a friend to tell

you to which voice you have been listening and he cannot

say, you will probably find that you were not really succeed-

ing in your attempt to listen to it !

A moderate amount of each of the above processes maybe expected to produce better results than a great deal of a

few of them, and it may be as well to follow them up bysome conducting as recommended in chapter 2, and some

further thought upon the message of chapter 6.

6?

15

Looseness at the Shoulder

ALTHOUGH I believe that looseness at the shoulder is one

of the foundation-stones of efficient technique, physically

speaking, I often refrain from saying so until pupils have

progressed a long way on their road. A moment is then

reached when it is of special value to trot the theory out*

First let us be quite sure what is desired. In the 1890$

young girlslike my sister (of about my own age) were

instructed that it was vulgar to swing their arms as they

walked. Such was the tradition of late Victorian deportment.

These self-same vulgar movements, carried back and for-

ward parallel with the line of your footsteps, exactly producethe looseness advocated in this chapter. If you sit at the

piano, place your hands on the keys, and then carry them

backwards and forwards together instead of alternately,

continuing the movement from the keyboard as far back as

your elbows can be drawn, it will look rather like rowing,

though the elbows should not move outwards. Then if

you keep your fingertips on the keyboard without letting

them slide between the edge and the wood of the lid while

the upper arms swing backwards and forwards as far as the

tethered fingertips allow, there will be a kind of see-saw

element in the movement. With both these movements

"rowing" and "see-sawing" the arm will be loose at the

shoulder. If you get someone else to move your arm as in

rowing or see-sawing, when you offer resistance you

68


will have stiffened at the shoulder, and when there is noresistance you are preserving the easy poise which the move-ments are designed to produce. And when you performeither of these movements yourself it will loosen you if youare tight, and prove to you that you are loose already if youcannot be sure without the test. Now aff chord, a difficult trill

or mordent, the attempt to achieve a pp any difficulty in

fact, even anxiety in itself, can very easily stiffen you at the

shoulder, and the thing to do is to cultivate recovering that

looseness when it has been lost. When you or others are

hampered by stiffness, try to ascertain where the stiffness is

and it will often prove to be at the shoulder. If this is

eliminated the relief may well resemble that of Christian

when the load of sin fell from his back.

In stopping-practice you can row or see-saw in time

to the mental rehearsal that precedes the next phrase, but

as audiences cannot wait for you to perform such antics, the

next thing to learn is to see-saw while you are playing

(Ex. 99):Ex.99.

If you make these accents by means of the arm movements,

you could say, watching your wrist to understand the choice

of syllables (Ex. 100) :

BUOO.

a J J J '^ "f r=t

Down up, down up, down up, down up, down up, down up, down up, down up,

being careful, however, that the wrist does not continue to

sink when the elbow stops moving, for this would defeat

your main object and prevent your upper arm from swingingforward again until the wrist had returned to the position

from which it had sunk. There is a natural pace for these

crotchets, somewhere about J S7J2 (though it varies with

the individual), and ifyou play perceptibly slower or quicker

69


than your own natural pace it will probably get you con-

fused as to whether you ought to be doing an "up" or a

"down" at a given moment.

Now see-saw with the "down" on every other note

(Ex. 101):

Ex.101.

_j etc,

Down tip, down up

The "up" movement here puts something of a brake on the

speed, so this will at best be quasi Vistesso tempo in fact,

perceptibly slower, perhaps even as slow as J-.se- But if

you have a "down" on every fifth note (Ex. 102) :

Ex.102. ^^ ~ -

etc.

this tempo will probably be pretty close to that of the

quavers.We should see-saw therefore with crotchets, quavers

and semiquavers, and the movement should sometimes be as

exaggerated as possible and sometimes so slight that an

onlooker (unaware of what you were supposed to be doing)

might not see it. Sometimes the accents should be very con-

spicuous to the listener and sometimes hardly detectable. So

we have these four combinations : (i) lots of movement with

a big accent ; (2) lots of movement with little or no accent ;

(3) little movement with a big accent ; and (4) little move-ment with little or no accent.

As soon as all this is mastered a very little movement can

give one an impressive accent when the finger has not the

necessary strength for it, and this same little movement can

unstiffen one's upper arm at the shoulder even when accen-

tuation of any kind is undesirable. In the syllabic differen-

tiation so essential to expressive cantabile playing, the use

of these see-sawings and the sense of treading producedby the "down" movements bring the greatest comfort to the

70


users, largely on the ground that when what you do feels

physically like the effect you want to hear, natural ease in the

effort and its result are married in a truly blissful union.

The fundamental value of looseness at the shoulder will

therefore become increasingly apparent.

i6

Gradations of Time

A GOOD deal of textbook doctrine on this subject is at best

unsound, and discussion about it can easily become acrim-

onious. One or two assertions on the practical plane,how-

ever, may be more acceptable than denunciations of those

who go further or along a different path.

Two distinct kinds of flexibilityare that of the beat and

that within the beat. Let us first consider the former. If you

count three or four in a succession of bars with march-like or

even metronomic precision,the rhythmical sequence of the

beats will certainly be unbroken. If you then try dawdling

on individual beats (one, two, thre , . . e, f , our, for instance)

it is fairly easy to know whether the sequence has been main-

tained. And as you experiment with accellerandos and

rallentandos of increasing magnitude, your ability to say

positivelywhether the pulse has been lost will grow from

day to day. Conducting is even better than counting, so if

you find you can conduct such and such dawdles and hasten-

ings the result can be pronounced a legitimate rubato in

itself, whereas the loss of sequential continuity in the beats

would have been a case of senza tempo. Whether the

example of rhythmical freedom is appropriate in a given

passage is a question of interpretation.

Of flexibility within the beat each of these two ex-

amples is an exaggeration for the sake of clarity (Exx, 103

and 104) :

72

Gradations of Time

Ex.103. Beethoven: Kreutzer Sonata

-ttc.

Ex.104. Polonaise accompaniments

J- J5

Ex. 103 Is dangerously easy to overdo* Such liberties are

called falsifications and the problem is often how much to

falsify and how often. National music makes many demandsof this kind. A very helpful analogy for much flexibility

within the beat is the phrase "declamatory freedom". Youwould sing these two syllables (Ex. 105) :

Ex.105.

ishatter

more swiftly than these (Ex. 106) :

Ex.106.

fiercely

even if the composer had not attempted to specify any differ-

ence in the notation. Indeed it would probably be better for

him not to make any such attempt.

Chopin's F minor Ballade often suffers from this kind of

treatment (Ex. 107) :

eight times in the sixteen bars of this melody, which converts

what might be a good effect Into a regrettable and stilted

mannerism. We may sometimes be tempted to remind some

"miserable sinner" that the object of rubato is usually to

render the music more beautiful rather than less, thoughit might not sound quite so embittered if we suggestedconstructive improvements.A so-called definition of rubato is "left hand in time, right

hand free", a phenomenon which is often called for by the

notation itself (Exx. 108, 109 and 1 10) :

73


Ex.108. Chopin: Nocturne In F$

Ex. 109. Hummel: Sonata, in D,Op.l06Larghetto a caprtcci*

(Thc last of fourteensimilar bars)

Ex.110. Chopin: Nocturne in Dfe

Ztnfo sosttnxto"

The beauty with which Chopin treated such passages maybe part of the reason why "left hand strict, right hand free"

has been so often advocated as a solution of the rubato

problem. The result of accepting this doctrine is usuallysimilar to that produced by an insensitive accompanist whocannot keep together with the soloist.

Changing the tempo is quite another affair. Nowadays it

is more severely frowned on than in my childhood. Lesche-

tizky was sometimes at pains to advocate subtle vacillations,

perhaps in a graded series, that enabled one to achieve

desired changes unperceived. I can for once masquerade as

74

Gradations of Time

a moderate man if I submit that about the period of 1 900there were too many tempo changes and in the 19508 there

are perhaps too few. Certainly if there is anyone whoadvocates an inflexible metronomic constancy of pace

regardless of other considerations, he may be regarded as

an extremist.

Preparing ofHand

Positions

"FIND press_let go" is a pithy analysis of all we have

to do in piano playing as far as the keyboard is concerned;

it was presented to me in almost casual conversation over

thirty years ago. The first of the three actions was always

called "preparing" in the Leschetizky fold and it is difficult

to exaggerate its importance. Take the skips of a typical

waltz accompaniment. An early ritual of practising should

be to play very slowly, very staccato, and whenever there is a

skip to dash like lightning to the next position. If in our

first example you seem to reach the silent diamond-headed

notes at the very moment when the crotchet you have just

played is heard, it will appear to be the sort of conjuring

trick required (Ex. 1 11) :

-*

It may be tantalising at first to reach your diamond-headed

note and not play it, but to play it tends to lessen the value

of the skip itself to remove from your mind, in fact, the

very thing you had most wished to impress upon it. The

slower you play, the quicker can the skips be made and the

76

Preparing of Hand Positions

deeper will the impression of this rapidity sink into the

memory of your hands and fingers for future use. Moreover,the quicker the skips the more accurate are they likely to

be you have no time to forget en route where you camefrom or how far you have to go.

Afterwards do your special preparings once a bar only,

playing up to time but with really long pauses. If the pausesare three bars long the regular four-bar lengths into whichthe delayed continuity would fit will, by its ordered design,have a comforting and invigorating effect upon our spirit

(Ex. 1 1 la and)

:

ExJ12a.^z^ro

^\> I 1 I

^ ,*

f^ 3=^=3 etc.

Ex.ll2b.

tic.

In this (Ex. 113):

Ex. 113. Beetltevtitt Sonata,Op.27,No.l

(with which some of my readers are sure to have had their

struggles), the wide skips occur at irregular intervals. Whenthe rests come, fling your hands on to the next chord as if

they had been hurled out of a catapult and ask yourself two

questions : whether your aim achieved a bull's-eye, and

whether the speed of the journey was as quick as it would

need to have been if you had been playing straight on. The

77


answer is naturally more likely to be "yes" in both cases if

the journey is as the crow flies.

Perhaps it will not be inopportune, even though some-

what premature, to mention here that extreme zeal regardingthese skips may sometimes make you so over-eager that youwill play the chord preceding the skip too sketchily

(smudged or not fully audible, for instance). It is a tantalis-

ing but very useful discipline to stop just short of the skip,

with your fingers on the surface of the keys that have that

moment been released. For one thing, the release, if achieved

by total relaxation of downward pressure and not attended

by a lifting away from the keys, even as much as a tenth of

an inch, allows the subsequent journey to be made more

swiftly and easily than if it had been the journey that pro-duced the staccato. Meanwhile, as you learn to make the

step mentally, though not physically, the tantalising element

is gradually eliminated. Perhaps it will soothe our outraged

feelings to exclaim with the King in Hamlet : "My words fly

up to Heaven, my thoughts remain below' ', which is,

perversely enough, the opposite of what we are doing.

Preparing must not be confined to chords and skips, but

carefully cultivated in finger passages as well. If you playthe scale of C major for four octaves in semiquavers and

pause whenever a crotchet group has reached the followingnote (which might be called the destination of the group), the

diamond-headed notes show you how many notes you should

prepare at the respective stopping-places (Ex. 114):

Preparing of Hand Positions

Sometimes practise the above with a "full-dress" mental

rehearsal before each little rush. The sixth of the right-hand

groups has what would be a grotesque fingering were those

five notes to occur by themselves, but it is useful to realise

that it is the right orthodox fingering if you are playing

your complete four octaves. The left hand gets the same

fingering in the sixth group descending.

79

i8

Beauty of Tone

THIS is a subject which has aroused considerable contro-

versy. Scientists have declared that you cannot make one

isolated note beautiful or ugly on the piano, you can only

make it louder or softer. Musicians often declare that their

experience totally disproves the scientists' assertion. Even if

the musicians were right, there are so many factors produc-

ing beauty or ugliness in tonal effect that the importance of

single-note beauty would at best be comparatively slight.

Factors which produce unquestionable differentiation of

tone quality are the pedal and the harmonies. Notes that are

pedalled glisten with a lovely radiance that is like the beautyof a wet pebble on the sea-shore : dry the pebble and the

magic is lost, dip it in water again and the magic is restored.

Compare the first part of Ex. 115 unharmonised with the

same notes harmonised two bars later, and in Beethoven's

Largo from op. 7 (Ex. n$a,b andc)

:

Ex.U5a.Ex.1151). Ei.ll5c.

J J-3J

Think what the accompaniment^)/^ pedal adds to the unac-

companied E|j melody note with which another Chopin

Study begins (Ex. 1 16) :

80

Beauty of Tone

Ex.116.

Apart from the magic of the liquid flowing semiquavers in

the accompaniment, the way the harmony thereof supportsthe melody (with perpetual scope for subtle variations in the

degree of that support) gives almost unlimited possibilities

for beautifying the actual singing tone quality of that series

of repeated E[>s.

Then there are the various factors which seem to influence

beauty of tone quality and therefore do affect beauty of tonal

effect. We might consider them from the negative point of

view. When a note is too loud or comes too soon it maywell seem harsh by reason of the shock it produces. For it

to be too soft or too late will be feeble, lacking vitality,

warmth or some other essential attribute. For the bass voice

or other notes in the accompaniment to give insufficient sup-

port to the melody will make an accented melody note

sound hard when it would otherwise have been completely

acceptable, a question therefore of harmonic proportion.

The dissonance of wrong notes also creates a harshness of

its own. Start Beethoven's Sonata, op. 10, no. i, with a Btj

added to the first chord by the right hand, and compare it

with an equally fierce clean/chord.

Mercifully, whatever our beliefs about tone and touch,

the same practical expedients make for good results. Three

ways which might have been advocated for increasing beauty

of tone quality in itself are in any case of great usefulness in

increasing our power of avoiding the numerous and com-

plicated dangers set forth in the preceding paragraph, and

therefore productive of much positive benefit. The first is

mental, the other two physical. The mental one is always to

be striving for the maximum tonal beauty. To long for and

dream of loveliness makes us more likely to achieve a

81


beautiful effect, whatever the means employed, more alive to

the result, whether it be encouraging or disheartening, and

more aware of what the effort to achieve it felt like, whether

with a view to preserving what was good, or avoiding what-

ever was not approved. The first physical observance is

always to touch the keys before pressing them down,because hitting them from a distance (even a slight one)reduces precision with regard to the sound coming at the

right moment, with the right volume (not only total volume,but also that of the melody note and balance with those

that harmoniseit),

and without a smudge. The second

physical observance is the habit of instantaneous relaxation

of any superfluous pressure that may have been momentarily

necessary for ff chords, and so forth. This last immenselyincreases the likelihood of good timing and general control

in jf, as well as conserving greatly needed energy,It is wise to reflect on the varying fate of beautiful voices

(singing or speaking) and beautiful timbre in musical instru-

ments like wind and strings where quality does vary so con-

spicuously on single notes. A lovely timbre soon loses its

magic if the phrases lack the variety and appeal of human

expressiveness, and conversely an unpleasing timbre is often

forgotten when musicians and actors possess that same

appeal. Has even one of my readers failed to experiencethese truths ?

1 9

Trills and Rotary Move-

ments of the Forearm

SOME of our trills should sound like a bird or a flute,

liquid and musical. Slower ones are liable to sound lumber-

ing and angular^ quicker ones like an electric bell or an infur-

iated wasp arriving on the window-pane. There is a place for

each of these types, according to the passage. Still slower

than any of these is the kind some favour in Bach and other

composers, though many will find it unacceptable ;in these

trills each note sounds like a separate syllable.If a trill causes you difficulty, try first to estimate the

rhythmical groups of which it should be composed, writingthem out if there is any lack of clear intention. We mustdecide whether the groups should be twos, threes, fours,

sixes, or what. If fours are too slow and eights too quick, weshall have to choose a triplet grouping and the further ques-tion may arise whether six notes shall be made up of two

triplets or three pairs of notes. Incidentally the former, byvirtue of the groups' starting alternately on the principalnote and the upper note, makes very good practice even if

not adopted subsequently.In the practising itself over-accentuation leads to greater

ease and control later, especially when achieved by rotaryexertions of the forearm. The latter will be considered in

some detail later in this chapter. "Group practice", beating

83


with the other hand (for both see chapter 5) and very

important singing the groups of the trill when they have

been decided upon, are all three very valuable. If the final

pace of the trill is going to be quicker than the maximum

possible with your vocal technique, to sing a note and roll

an "r" on it is a suggestive and very helpful kind of semi-

mental rehearsal.

A good way of working at a long trill is to come to a stop at

regular intervals, resuming the trill at a later moment corre-

sponding to the beats that have elapsed : I ^^t^r^Ti> can

be practised thus: fffjfffjJ^JJJH /3514Jand then: J^JJB JH3 1 J J773 /T73IJ both

of them with and without the ties.

These examples assumed commencement on the principal

note, but opinions vary as to whether a trill should do so. If

you decide that a given trill shall, let the first note sing and

play the next few much more lightly. If you begin with the

upper note, prevent it from singing, and what follows from

sounding as if the whole thing was an inverted trill on that

upper note. Whichever line you take, the beauty with which

you carry out your preference is more important than the

preference itself.

It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that every trill should

end on the principal note, and this may also involve careful

rhythmical planning. Where a trill needs a turn at the end,

although the penultimate note will be below the principalnote the rhythmical plan will most probably be unaffected.

The shortest real trill beginning on the principal note andwithout a turn will contain five notes as only three give us

an upper mordent ; the shortest with a turn at the end will

contain seven notes. These seven notes are the most shapelyin one of these two groupings (Ex. 117* and V} :

Ex. 117b.

84

Trills and Rotary Movements of the Forearm

from which we should choose whichever suits the occasion

better. In Ex. 117^ the two halves of the trill are found to

be an upper mordent followed by a turn commencing on the

note above, which seems to leave us with no actual trill !

Few listeners, however, will be bothered by this curious

fact unless the fourth of the seven notes is grotesquely over-

accentuated.

A long trill nearly always gains life (whether by its beauty,its excitement, or whatever its particular quality) by tone

gradations swellings, fadings, etc., like a long held note ona voice or violin. Nearly all trills are much better pedalled,and when a gradual diminuendo is the required effect, a

sudden drop of tone in the playing will produce the gradual

drop in the sound, because unless the pedal is changed those

more softly played notes will have the sounds already ringingadded to their volume.

Trills benefit greatly by clearness of thought and physical

precision in regard to rotary action and freedom of the fore-

arm. In the early days of this century people often spoke as

if Debussy had invented the whole-tone scale and Matthay"forearm rotation". What Debussy did was to unlock for us

a rich treasure of beauty and imagination by his lovely use

of the whole-tone scale, added to exquisite judgment in

escaping from it when the moment came to do so, while

Matthay did great service in explaining principles about

these forearm rotary mysteries concerning which there had

previously been very widespread misunderstandings. Someworthies even used to advocate the placing of a coin where

your hand joins the forearm to prevent the tiniest rotarymovement of the forbidden and dreaded kind. I once heard

an examiner say to a candidate with scornful irony : "Andwhen you have ceased to rotate . . . ?"

The rotary movements can be either a cause or a result.

When they supply the energy with which notes are playedthe touch can be called rotary action, of which the fingers are

just agents. When finger action is the touch employed and

the rotary movements occur, they do so by virture of rotary

85


freedom of the forearm. This is twice blest, for the fingerscan move more easily when the forearm is thus free, and also

need to move shorter distances to do their work, the saving

corresponding to the amount of movement by the arm.

Now the two touches have a markedly different musical

effect. When you play the notes by rotary action they are

perceptibly martellato in character. Inît might be like the

clattering of hooves on cobble stones or "the chaotic laughterof a shunting train". In pp it might be like the tinkling of

imagined harebells, but in either case there is a "ting-a-ling-

a-ling" element in the notes. When you play them with

finger action accompanied by rotary freedom of the forearm,

you get more of a murmur as of zephyrs or bees. So it is

necessary to decide what you want in given instances. Youwill probably vote for the murmuring effect in Chopin's Fminor Study, op. 25, no. 2, and for the clattering effect in

the "Black Key" Study.

Mercifully, if you first determinedly practise a passagewith energetic rotary action, and then cease the conscious

efforts, rotary freedom is left behind, a priceless deposit as

one might say. There is no better way of cultivating the first

of these touches than the following :

Take any passage of broken intervals, whether they be

octaves, sixths, thirds, mixed or whatever you like, play themfirst as solid intervals (Ex. 1 1 8) :

Ex.llS.Beethoveat Sonata, op.26

Then do the rotary movements corresponding to those in

the passage rhythmically in the air (Ex. 119):

Ex.110.

Qttt in out IB

out in out in

oat in opt in oat la oat in

oat in oat in oat in out in

oat in oat in oat in oat in

oat ia oat in oat in oat in

oat

oat oat

86

Trills and Rotary Movements of the Forearm

and thirdly play the passage as it was written, endeavouringto combine the two previous processes simultaneouslyinstead of doing one after the other, an endeavour in which

you will most often succeed. Of course if a friend enters the

room when your hands are "doing their magics" in the air

he may be constrained to ejaculate : "Alas ! are you often

taken like this ?"

In so far as the use of rotary action of the forearm necessi-

tates a conscious effort of the will, to make this conscious

effort and then, discontinuing it, rejoice in its "priceless

deposit" is a simpler affair than acquiring many of the

physical knacks which go to build up a reliable pianoforte

technique.

2O

Sight-Reading

THE surest foundation for the best kind of sight-reading is

to cultivate the power of hearing music in your mind by

looking at the page. Whether you are already skilled or a

timid and rather unsuccessful beginner in this direction, a

good ritual for practical use is to take short stretches of vary-

ing length according to the demands of the music selected,

and with each stretch to read it mentally first, then to play

it on the surface of the keys and finally out loud, when what

you hear should be eagerly compared with what you had

expected to hear. If either of the first two processes could

be swiftly improved, you could persevere with it for a little

while before proceeding to the next. The proposed ritual is

particularly valuable in helping you to avert inaccuracies

before they actually occur. We are taught that the recording

angel expects us to be tempted to play shabby tricks;

it is

only considered blameworthy if we carry them out. Once wehave made a mistake in playing out loud, it is more likely to

occur again than if the danger had been feared at an earlier

stage and avoided in the nick of time. Indeed the advantagesof "correct first time" tend to pile up at the rate of com-

pound interest. The possibilities of greater musical insightat first hearing are also of considerable importance.

It is a very good thing to read unfamiliar pieces two or

three times, perhaps with a few days in between, and if this,

like the ritual of the preceding paragraph, amounts to partly

prepared sight-reading, that well done will have more

Sight-Reading

influence on your progress than actual sight-reading of

poorer quality ; it is an example of what you should aspire

to, as well as making you more thoroughly acquainted with

a great deal of music as time goes on.

The habit of keeping your eye on the page while playingis of maximum usefulness in sight-reading* Although we

may have seen valiant deeds in this field performed by

players whose eyes darted up and down from page to key-

board, anyone who can do that well would become a superbinstead of a good reader if the darting could be eliminated.

It is often preached that one's eyes should be several bars

ahead of one's fingers in sight-reading, and the value of this

idea might be said to lie in the grasping of chord progres-sions and whole phrases rather than spelling out the music

a note at a time, however quickly. But essential though it

may be for one's eyes to glance forward on the page, it is

exceedingly valuable for them to glance back again and

indeed as often as possible to look the written notes straight

in the face while playing them. If this is accompanied by

grateful affection for musical notation it can often intensify

one's sense of the emotional poignancy of the music. To look

at these superb chords from Chopin's B minor Scherzo

during the very act of playing them (Ex. 120) :

Ex.120.

will surely help many of us to appreciate their shattering

forcefulness still more than ever.

If we analyse typical kinds of difficulty in correct reading

we shall not fail to notice the following widely differing

sources of confusion :

i Passage work of contrapuntal freedom of a very diatonic

character, such as is found in abundance in Elizabethan

composers and in Bach.


2 Passages that are riddled with accidentals, even if simple

rhythmically and otherwise.

3 The melodic floridity of the "Vienna period", involvingas it does so much rhythmical complexity.

4 Technical difficulties (Exx. 121, 122 and 123) :

Ex.12}. Beethoven* Sonata,op.2, no. 3

Mlegrocon trio.

Ex.122. Griegi Piano Concerto

5 Chords other than the standard ones in ordinary

harmony books.

6 Modern incomprehensibilities.

Many players are good at some of the above and bothered

by others. Comparatively few passages have more than twoof these difficulties at once. In any case, to realise which of

them gives us particular trouble will show us in whatdirections to seek for the most improvement.

Divining the character of what we read is in a different

sphere altogether, so important that it could occupy a whole

chapter or even volume. Perhaps the reader could bereferred at this point to the chapter on dramatic significance,but in any case no effort should be spared in developing our

90

, Sight-Reading

musical insight while sight-reading as well as in the work

which follows it.

Even if our sight-reading is of mediocre quality, there

are some ways in which we should respect it* If you play a

phrase straight away after you have first seen it such a one,

for instance as this (Ex. 124) :

Ex.124. B*chi Eng-lish Suite in E minor

F

it may result in love at first sight and there will very likely

be a beauty and a freshness in the sound that once lost mightnever be regained. Do everything you can to preserve that

lovely bloom : "thinking ten times and playing once" will

certainly help.

21

Miscellaneous

THE DIFFICULT PACEIF you play finger passages slowly, say in crotchets at about

J = ioo> ft *s eas7 to do so steadily> and if you have the

agilityto play the same passages in semiquavers, also at

J:ioo, the notes will probably sound equally or at any

rate agreeably steady. But try a middle pace, say quavers at

about J : |2o> anc* y u ma7 be reminded of church bells

that behave like this (Ex. 125) :

Ex.125.

This pace can be nicknamed "the difficult pace", and each

player tends to have his own difficult pace for given passages

just as each person has a natural pace for walking when

there is no special reason for haste or dalliance.

What is here recommended is that in long, swift succes-

sions of single notes, such as in many Bach movements or

Czerny Studies, we should find out the pace at which the

notes are the most tottery and then assiduously play long

stretches through at that exact pace. In a few days the

difficulty and staggerings will gradually melt out of existence,

so for the passages in question there will cease to be a diffi-

cult pace. It is not often that playing something badly with

conscious realisation of the fact proves positively beneficial.

92

Miscellaneous

Why it does so in this case seems to be that each little

stagger produces a sense of annoyance and that the next

time you pass the spot where you felt this annoyance a specialeffort will instinctively be made to avoid a repetition of the

previous defect. In some cases the defect may have beendue to failure in controlling the rotary movements of the

forearm, in others to vagueness about accentuation, and in

some you may be unable to trace the cause even when

improvement has been achieved. In any case the exploitationof "the difficult pace" can often prove to be the supple-

mentary treatment which moderately successful passagesstill need.

TRANSPOSITIONEx.120. Beethoven* Sonata, op. 81A

The above, like the twin passage later in the same move-

ment, is one of the sort that we practise for weeks and appearto have conquered, and then on the night of the concert we

go and fumble it. Many of the audience were on the look-

out, wondering whether we should get past this corner with

credit. So we must try and surround the passage with an

extra wide margin of safety. For this it will be good to slave

away in a variety of ways and two rather unhackneyed sug-

gestions are offered here. One is to play those three bars

beginning in all the twelve keys while adhering to the finger-

ing of the original passage. They begin in(7 though a series

of modulations starts almost immediately. If you begin a

semitone higher at each repetition, the thirteenth effort will

be the original one an octave higher. If you dread the

number thirteen you can retrace your steps a semitone at a

time and you will reach the original passage again at the

twenty-fifth effort ; you will certainly know it better then

93


than if you had played it twenty-five times as it is, and the

enormous number of little new movements suddenly

demanded of your hands and fingers will have greatly

increased your physical and mental agility. Of course, few

of my readers will be able at first to manage all these trans-

positions, but it would certainly pay to write out all those

that give too much trouble (using the new key signature each

time) after which you can play those transpositions from the

MS. Do not flinch, even if you have to write out the three

bars quite a number of times, for copying is valuable in

itself. If you are still obliged to grope about in some of the

transpositions even then, doing so will be worthwhile and

lead in time to greatly increased fluency.

DUPLICATIONAnother way of drudging at the above passage is to play

tiny units of two quavers twice each in unbroken sequence.

This is a device which allows you to do all the physical

movements in the passage at full speed but with twice as

long to think out what is coming next, a neat and most

helpful combination of the benefits of slow and quick prac-

tice at the same time. Our particular passage when dupli-

cated can be advantageously phrased in both the following

ways as far as practising is concerned (Ex. 127) :

Ex 127

The alternative printed over the notes, if carrying out the

proposed plan with less relentless logic, conforms better to

the grammatical sense of the music.

PRACTISING WITH THE WRONG HANDThis may strike many readers as a gratuitous and even

perverse waste of time, but it can be unexpectedly helpful. It

94

Miscellaneous

is a good way of getting to "know notes irrespective of the

fingering by which they are played". Moreover, as the righthand gets more opportunities of development than the

left hand, our eccentric procedure will often involve the left

hand in tasks that would not otherwise fall to its lot, thus at

least reducing the inequalities of opportunity as between the

hands. In one kind of passage, it may be noted, most left

hands have learned to excel the right to a marked degree.

Try sliding the stool about a foot to the left and playing the

left-hand part of your favourite Chopin Waltz with your

right hand, an experiment which brings surprise to many.

22

Bodily Stillness

SOME bodily movements as you sit at "the piano help youto play given passages, as when you need to reach the top or

bottom of the keyboard with both hands. Others may help

your imagination in the task of getting into the right mood

to interpret the piece or passage. Some may, and in fact do,

impress the public in various ways, though what might be

called the "higher showmanship" may lead us to abjure

them. From the technical point of view the elimination of

superfluous bodily movements can vastly reduce the physical

complexities and sum total of exertion in the difficult pas-

sages. If you think of drawing a circle with a compass and

allowing the pin to slip away from the centre before the

circle is complete, the danger to your circle suggests the

devastating effect of shuffling on the piano stool and other

unnecessary movements.

To bother about the question when you are on the plat-

form may be unwise, but do so sometimes during practice.

Perhaps the best time to play passages with your body as

still as a statue is when you are trying to listen with more

than usually critical attention. If you think this (Ex. 128) :

Ex.128. Beethovem Sonata in C minor for Piano and Violin

Atltgr*

96

Bodily Stillness

was as exciting as it ought to have been when no visible

movement followed the staccato C, you were probably justi-fied in the belief. If you had flung your arms into the air

with a dramatic gesture you would have been far more likelyto be self-deceived.

Of course, ifyou hold yourselfstill by stiffening, the energysaved in one direction may be lost in another. The poise of

a racer ready to dart away, or of a cat before a spring, is what

is wanted. Some good devices for cultivating the knack are :

1 Take a passage like Variation No. 4 in Schumann's

Symphonic Studies. First play the right-hand part while the

left hand lies on the keyboard an inch or two lower than the

lowest right-hand note. Then play the left-hand part while

the right hand lies an inch or two above the highest left-hand

note. The benefits of this treatment will soon be apparent.2 Play difficult passages staring fixedly at the music on

the page as you do so. The line of vision between your eyeand the page will be like a magical silken thread, and will

eliminate a great many bodily movements while drawing

your attention to those that still occur.

3 Pretend that you are literally glued to the piano stool,

4 Get someone to hold two fingers below your chin in

gentle contact while you are playing some animated passagesand every time there is a tremor in your frame you will be

most potently informed.

Let it be reiterated that these devices are of extra use and

comfort when adopted with the special purpose of listening

more critically to the actual musical effect. It will also be

found that playing on the surface of the keys, and playing

fp regardless of the eventual need for tonal variety, both

allow one to bear bodily stillness in mind with less appre-hension or sense of constraint than in a normal performance.And when you have reached the stage of knowing that given

difficult passages are under better control because you are

keeping still, it ceases to handicap you to bear such benefits

firmly in mind even on the concert platfoms.

97

23

Athletic Form

THE first day of the tennis season or of a walking tour

in hilly country often produces aching and stiffness, due to

energetic and persistent use of muscles that have not been

in vigorous action lately,if indeed ever before. The discom-

fort is appropriately described as healthy tiredness and the

remedy is further persistence in the days that follow. By

inducing this healthy tiredness in our hands and arms, we

can build up varied muscular efficiency, which will greatly

increase the speed, nimbleness and endurance that so manytechnical difficulties in piano playing demand. The problem,which has already been touched upon in chapter 3, part II,

is to recognise the difference between healthy tiredness and

strain.

A pianist who has had physical trouble like neuritis, local

strains and so forth, may need expert advice before venturingto act upon the suggestions that follow ; they may only be

adopted with safety by those who have had no earlier set-

backs. For the latter, these two tests will be found helpfulin determining whether their efforts are on sound lines.

i Leschetizky used to assert that with any continued

action producing tiredness in the forearm, even to the extent

of a burning sensation, it was all right if the discomfort was

above (that is, the part of the forearm you can see when youare playing). In that case you could go on till you were

Athletic Form

"black in the face". But if the discomfort was felt below,

you were to leave off at once. To find pieces or passages in

which the same sort of difficulty is unremitting is better

than plodding away with dull, unmusical exercises, or, if

you can, to extemporise tunes with modulatory designs andharmonic variety is an admirable way of combining duty and

pleasure. If you want to exercise both hands at once,

Chopin's Studies op. 25, nos. 3 and 12, are suitable, while

if you play the same composer's op. 10, nos. 8 and 12 in

alternation, one hand can get respite while the other is

purposely tiring itself. We were advised to repeat such

alternations so that each hand after resting could tire itself

again.

2 Taking similar examples (Chopin Studies, etc.), when

you cannot play them right through without the wrong pain

coming on or the loss ofpower to sound the notes adequately,notice at what point the pain or inadequacy occurs. If it is

nearer to the end of the piece on Tuesday than it was on

Monday, healthy tiredness may be diagnosed, especially if

you get still nearer to the end on Wednesday. If the pain or

inadequacy occurs sooner on a later day it may be regardedas a danger signal.

Many other Chopin Studies tax one's endurance in the

ideal way for our present purpose, and sets of variations

often provide very suitable material. So may passages out

of the pieces you are learning. If any reader is studyingBrahms' B[j Piano Concerto, he could not do much better

than use the coda of the second movement. It will be found

that the beneficial healthy tiredness in given pieces or pas-

sages may fail to be produced after a while, for one's powersof endurance grow and cease to be over-taxed. When that

happens, you must either search out different material or

decide that the bout of exercising shall be considered at an

end for the time being. It seems that occasional spasmodicbouts of this sort of work are more useful and, surprisingly

enough, of more permanent value than the hour or half-hour

99


of technical exercising which is usually so piously advocated

for daily fare, year in, year out. And the time that is saved

for learning more music is of immeasurable value.

In chapter 3, part II, practising long successions of

staccato chords with a swift, tight fist-clench after everychord was recommended. Variation No. 4 of the Handel-

Brahms set, with the fist-clench on every semiquaver, keepsthe right hand clenching with hardly any respite, the left

hand more intermittently. Let the left hand stay tightlyclenched whenever it has nothing to play (Ex. 10, ignoringthe pauses) :

Ex. 10. Brahms : Variations on a theme of Handel, op.24

Variation No. 25 of the same set with four clenches a bar

in each hand, i.e. whenever rests are printed (Ex. 9, ignoringthe pauses) :

Ex. 9. Brahms Variations on a theme of Handel, op.24

is highly pleasurable. Here one hand stays clenched while

the other hand is playing and one's movements recall those

of a cat that is pleased. It was specially in this context of

athletic muscular development that Leschetizky used to addhis solemn warning: "And don't forget that the more

technique you get the worse you'll play !" I have probablyquoted this remark to most of the pupils I have had in mylong teaching life. The truth that lies within the palpableover-statement is that when muscular sensation engagestoo much of our mind as we play, human expression and

IOC

Athletic Form

significance (or call it interpretative life) is cold-shouldered.

From the purely muscular point ofview it also seems that the

greatest benefit is enjoyed when one's athletic form, havingreached a kind of high-watermark, has been allowed a few

days for a partial recession of the tide.

101

Dramatic Significance

PERHAPS the subject of this chapter is really the funda-

mental essence of musical interpretation itself, although

oddly enough two well-known books on interpretation seem

to be principally occupied with questions like time flexibility

in the one case and the style of presentation proper for

different periods of music in the other. Perhaps the claims

of musical nationality might have filled a third book, but

although all three subjects are admittedly important aspects

of interpretation they are surely not right at the heart of the

matter.

Whatever our views on these points, the dramatic signifi-

cance in musical works is of profound importance both in

itself and as an element of performance. It might be hastily

assumed that what is dramatic will be of a fevered and

excited character, but though that would be appropriate

enough in some cases it would clearly be out of place in

others. Lullabies should be slumbrous, laments grief-

stricken, sarabands stately, and so on. Berlioz made a pointof some psychological subtlety in the observation that whenshe was singing "A King in Thule" nothing should be

further from Margaret's thoughts than the King in Thule.

Our subject seems interwoven with the twin questions of

music set to words and programme music. Meditating on

these branches of the art is a great interpretative education.

For instance, Bach's arias and choruses, Mozart's operatic

102

Dramatic Significance

numbers and Schubert's Lieder cast floods of light on the

way we should play the works of those masters on the piano.

Similarly, symphonic poems, overtures and innumerable

passages from operas contribute to the wealth of imagina-tive suggestion that music so richly provides, even thoughthe literature of descriptive pieces for piano is comparativelysmall. Notable contributors in that direction have been

Schumann, Grieg and Debussy. The first named was quitea pioneer in the use of titles (which can be said with no lack

ofrecognition of earlier pioneers likeJohn Munday, Kuhnau,and others), though if some of Schumann's are apt indeed,others are of no perceptible relevance. The titles of Griegand Debussy are usually so happily wedded to the music that

title and music both add to the total beauty and significance.Some folk decry the whole idea of programme music,

though that seems to be woefully unmindful of a lovely

province in the musical territory. Tovey put the whole prob-lem of programme music in a very reasonable light when he

said that Beethoven's "Lebewohl" Sonata tells you a lot

more about the title than the title tells you about the music,and if one's first impression is "a smart epigram", it soon

becomes evident that the utterance is one of profound dis-

cernment. A warning note is struck in an amusing tale about

Beethoven which Leschetizky told and which I have never

seen in print. An enthusiastic amateur was asking himwhether he really intended the first notes of the C minor

Symphony to represent a yellow-hammer, or the knockingof Fate or indeed what. The composer's uncompromising

. .S_

reply was : "I meant<

* J "j J | j. ^ that's what

I meant 1"*'

---*You will sometimes hear derisory comments on teachers

or others who gild their counsel with flowery similes. But

when these are appropriate enough there can be great

potency in them. Aptness and sincerity are the qualities that

justify their use. The great composers often had recourse to

them in their expression marks and in verbal statement.

H 103


Beethoven's direction "beklemmt", Haydn's "innocente",

Prokofiev with his "narrante", "alzando", etc., Bax with

"feroce", Debussy with hosts of suggestions, Hindemith's

"mitbizarrerPlumpheit"andScriabin's "perfide" (though

the last is totally unintelligible to me) spring rapidly to mind,

Debussy told Thomas Fielden that the opening of his piece

Mouvemcnt should be "like the hum of a great city". Most

impressive of all, perhaps, was Beethoven's hint that the

recitatives in the first movement of op. 31, no. 2, should be

like a voice from the tomb. A teacher's similes will naturally

tend to be modificatory rather than creative : "more persua-

sive", "why so sentimental?", "sterner", are essentially

related to efforts which already have some character of their

own.

There is a school of thought in this century that favours

the playing of music in a strictly businesslike frame of mind,

with total accuracy according to the text both regarding the

music and the expression marks, but with scrupulous

detachment on the part of the players, who should not

allow their feelings of love, reverence, joy or delight to add

to the presentation. The doctrine, however unacceptable to

some of us, was apparently a violent swing of the pendulum

away from the tendency at the end of the last century to

offer performances in which the individuality of players pro-

duced results too widely at variance with the spirit of the

compositions presented.An uncle ofmine who haunted St. James's Hall in the '8os

and '90$ used to expatiate on various famous pianists whomhe had heard there. It always ended up with eulogies of

Anton Rubinstein and how it was the dramatic significance of

his playing that gave him pre-eminence. Leschetizky's des-

scription of Rubinstein's intense expressiveness has prob-

ably left a deeper impression on some of his pupils' minds

than many of the magnificent performances we heard even

in our most impressionable years. "Heard melodies are

sweetj but those unheard . . ."

104

25

Memory

IT may be reasonably urged that those who are able to

memorise their pieces should usually do so and that those

who having done so play better with the music should

play with the music ; there is a vast difference between look-

ing at the page to remind yourself of what you already knowand looking at it to fill in the gaps by last-minute sight-

reading.At one time the public became very intolerant of soloists

who used the music, only a few favourites like Pachmannand Pugno could do so with impunity. The repertory of

recital programmes fifty years ago, however, lent itself to

easy and natural memorisation, rarely going back before

Bach and as yet uncomplicated by the bewildering develop-ments and experiments that were to follow Debussy.Beethoven, very often Bach, Chopin and most of the com-

posers up to 1900 or so fall into the normal pianist's

memory and stay there. Far fewer players can deal with someof the ever-changing fashions that have sprung up in the

present century. Going back to the Elizabethans, many of

their effective pieces are unusually difficult to memoriseto give only one instance, the captivating variations on

Bellinger's Round by William Byrd, which only take about

six minutes to play, provide over forty occasions where the

wrong turning could be taken without loss of coherence.

If you have not already learnt to play by heart, make an

105


attempt to do so. If you find you can only play uncon-

strainedly without the music, make a serious effort at self-

conquest and learn to overcome that very common but in

some ways regrettable limitation of your powers. The final

consideration should be the quality of the performances you

can offer, with or without the notes.

As regards the task of memorisation, the somewhat nega-

tive policy of daily studying pieces and awaiting a moment

when you find you know them by heart will often prove

successful. But a more methodical approach will sometimes

be necessary and may often be preferable. One of these

would be called conning if you were learning a poem. You

utter a succession of words, one line for instance, over and

over again with your eyes on the page, and eventually try it

with your eyes shut or turned away. When you have uttered

fourteen separate lines, each one without looking, the sonnet

(say the psychologists) is already in your memory. If after

success with the fourteenth line you try to start again, you

may seem to have totally forgotten the beginning, though it

is a comfort, if a cold one, to be told that the impression is

there in your mind, merely covered up by subsequent

impressions. The truth, however, in this cold comfort will

emerge later, possibly next morning.

Taking the delayed continuity of chapter I as the basis

of such conning, the ritual advocated could be modified in

some such way as "plan play try it by heart", but the

preliminary rehearsals, mental and physical, would often

have to be repeated a number of times to be effectual, or

else supplemented by a series of alternatives. Earlier chapters

and your own habits of work should provide a goodly stock

of these. It may be added that four, eight, or even more

bars at a time will usually be preferable to the very short

phrases used in illustration of chapter i . There is no need

to be rigid ; you can carry out as much of the programmeas you find you are able to enjoy regarded as a musical

experience. In doing that you will be ensuring a general

improvement in your playing quite apart from the degree of

106

Memory

success in the memorisation. Indeed, if you find you cannot

play the chosen stretch by heart in your mind, it will often

be better to play it with the music and pass on to the task

of conning the next stretch, in preference to the bulldog

tenacity of further struggling with the present one. Thework you have just done will in any case bear more fruit a

week hence than can be expected today.If you play chosen stretches several times out loud with

the music and then try them once without, that would beless intensive conning. The more repetitions there were,

however, the more danger would there be that the playingswould become dull and perfunctory. A precaution againstthis would be to avoid any repetition when your interest

in the actual music wanes. It will probably allow of a greaternumber of profitable repetitions if some of them are care-

fully varied, very slow, very soft, with different tone schemes,and so on. Even some trivial irrelevance, like shutting one

eye, may startle us into a new alertness. But as advised in

the previous paragraph, to pass on in the case of momentarylack of success can be better than too much grim persistenceat the time.

Whatever our methods of attacking the problems of

memorising, subsequent tests need to be applied and should

be varied. One very good one is playing on the surface of

the keys. My own pupils have often been told : "If you can

play this through correctly on the surface of the keys byheart, you deserve to manage it out loud, but not unless." Thesame could be said regarding playing by heart in your head.

Another test is whether you can begin anywhere within

reason, such as immediately after good stopping-places. In

sonata form movements, for instance, to be able to beginwhere the bridge starts or the second subject, or the second

melody of the second subject when there is one, or at the

codetta, would all be good starting-places. To repeat suitable

lengths two or three times in succession by heart gives us

experience in starting at various points without the usual

advantage of having just arrived there.

107


A useful if quaint device for beginning anywhere is to

play from further back (the very opening if necessary) on the

surface of the keys, and, at the moment at which you desire

to start, suddenly to play out loud. This is quite amusingly

helpful and will often enable you to start at a given spot a

number of times in succession for the purpose of tryingalternative nuances, pedallings, fingerings and so on, by

memory.Sometimes we can play or think passages by memory up

to time, but not very slowly. In such cases to remedy the

detected weakness will certainly bring additional safety.

We can remember the printed page, though unless it sug-

gests the sounds it is musically null and void a sense of

sight. We can remember the physical sensations of playing,

many of which are included in playing on the surface of the

keys (which tends to bring other aspects of memory with it)

a sense of touch. We can remember the sound of the

music upon which the meaning and beauty depend a sense

of hearing, though if this is not allied to the memory in yoursense of touch it will not enable you to play the music, while

if your memory of the printed page is added to both, the

total security will be the greater.When playing by heart the boldest spirit may be intimi

dated by a sudden thought that a memory hitch is impend-ing. A policy which is sometimes followed in such a crisis is

to stop thinking and play by mechanical memory, but

positive thought is preferable. The more your technique is

based on the habit of your keyboard journeys resulting fromthe inward singing of the melodic and harmonic progres-sions, the more safety will there be in ceasing to look at the

keys so as to stimulate the groping propensities of your

fingers and singing internally with concentrated determina-

tion. My pupils and I have a somewhat crude motto for use

in exorcising this particular demon of fear which for the

polite world could be translated as : "Shut your eyes and

sing inwardly with all your heart and soul."

108

26

Conclusion

A FEW general observations may not come amiss. Whenstarting to practise, try to form as clear an idea as possibleof what you are hoping to achieve* Then when you stop youcan judge better whether the time has been well spent. Ofcourse this is more difficult to estimate when some goal is

in view that is certain to take weeks to attain. Even so

you can ask yourself many questions like : "Do I graspthe musical meanings more fully? Do I know the notes

better? Am I clearer what to attempt tomorrow? Whatabout the pedalling? Is the execution improving? Whatelse?"

In planning ahead we must sometimes decide to concen-

trate more specially on learning new works and sometimes

on improving those we know. Adding to our repertoire often

improves the quality of pieces already learnt, partly by

giving the latter a rest and partly because of the increasingskill and experience that are being acquired. But it is not easyto foretell which works will thus benefit.

Periodical overhauls are stimulating and sometimes lead

to weak points becoming strong ones. Accuracy, trills,

pedalling, audibility in$, mellowness in jf, rhythm, the left

hand, are all typical objects for such a special overhaul. Asone of these progresses there will be no need to deteriorate

in other directions.

At an early stage the problem may arise as to whether we

109


should spend more time on exercises, scales, studies or

pieces. It is partly a question of personal inclination and the

beliefs of your teacher, but still more depends on how you

practise what you do practise, let us even say how tastefully

you do so. If this were agreed we could add that if you use

studies of the Czerny and Cramer type, it is best to choose

those which would charm an audience if beautifully playedat a concert, and very rarely, if ever, to practise them in a

totally detached or dry manner. And it is better to practiseactual passages out of pieces instead of inherently meaning-less and humdrum successions of notes in preparation for the

subsequent conquest of those or like passages. In any case

the flowing passage work of Byrd, Bach and others is likelyto benefit you more than even the most melodious typical

study, as in the former, the notes which lie ahead are so veryoften aurally and technically less expected. First hearingthese notes in your mind and then finding them on the key-board with the fingers best suited to do so give you a

better foundation for your technique than that upon which

many players build.

Sometimes learn pieces that are unquestionably too diffi-

cult, not intending to master them in one spell of work. In

such an enterprise let there be a month or two of workfollowed by a long interval during which you keep busy with

other pieces, then a second month ortwo followed by a similar

long interval. At the third or fourth spell of work you mayquite likely succeed in completing a task that might never

have been achieved in one spell (however grimly determined

the effort), and although there will probably be some piecesthat you do not master even in the end, the work on themwill prove of far-reaching value in regard to your general

progress. Fanny Davies once told me that she often workedat Beethoven's op. 106 and intended to play it some day.She was then in her sixties. She had great vitality andwhether she ever performed the sonata or not, it must havenourished her glowing imagination to work at it. On oneoccasion when Leschetizky was talking about various

no

Conclusion

pianists who did not play Schumann's Toccata, he added :

"Of course they've studied it."

If this book can be said to be written from a given pointof view, its dominating idea might be described as the cultiva-

tion of conscious purpose in all our playing and practising,and an endeavour to reduce the parrot element to a mini-

mum. An experience outside the sphere of music may serve

as an illustration. At the outset of one of my few attemptsto learn a new language, the little grammar book which was

placed in my hands urged readers always to think about the

meaning of the words they were writing or uttering,whether referring to the hues of a sunset, the perfume of a

rose or the everyday concerns of gardeners and their aunts.

Following this advice may have delayed arrival on the last

page by many a long day, but its beneficial influence bymaking me think in the language, instead of translatingwords as I went along, was of permanent value.

In piano playing the higher the proportion of will-powerand conscious direction of the mind becomes, the slighter

becomes each actual effort of will. These efforts are gradu-

ally transformed into a kind of second nature that has the

advantages of mechanical execution without the drawbacks,

furthering the sense of human intention, significance and

beauty for the listener, the concentrated absorption of the

player, and the greater reliability and permanence of

technical control, whereby one's playing does not get nearlyso rusty when physical practice has not been regular.

It is difficult to find the right words with which to con-

clude. It has been said of those who uphold a certain line of

thought : "They speak truth, they have one-twelfth of the

truth." If what is written in this volume has a small fraction

of the truth it may help some of my fellow music-lovers to

make further headway on their road. Above all, let us

remember that every pianistic problem has both its origin

and solution in the music itself.

in

INDEX

AcCELLERANDO, JZAcciaccatura, 45, 46, 50

Adagio, 1 8

"Alzando", 104

Analytical listening, 23

Aptness, 103

Arpeggio, 51

Audibility in pp, 109

BACH, J. S., 4, 8, 10, 52, 60,

83,89,91,92, 102, 105, noBallade in F minor (Chopin), 73;

in G minor (Brahms), 46;

(Chopin), 6 1-2

Bax, Arnold, 104Beat, flexibility of, 72f.; flexibility

within, 72!*.; marking the,

29-30Beating with the other hand, 84Beethoven, 3, 4, 8, 23, 73, 77, 80,

8 1, 86, 90, 93, 94, 96, 103,

104, 105, no"Beklemmt", 104Berlioz, 102

Binary form, 1 5

"Black Key" Study, 86

Bodily stillness, 96-7Booth, Victor, 43Boult, Sir Adrian, 33-4

Brahms, 5, 46, 47, 99, 100

Byrd, William, 37, 105, no

C/ADENCES, 63Cantabile, 70Chopin, 2, 21, 24, 25, 27-30, 48-9,

50, 55-9, 61, 62, 73, 74, 77,

80-1, 86, 89, 95, 99, 105

Chords, 10-16, 17-18; six-note, 18;

solid, 47-50; staccato, 16, 100

Coda, 33, 57Concerto in D minor (J. S. Bach), 8

Conducting, 7-9, 67, 72

Continuity, 1-6; dekyed, 66

Contrapuntal sense, 13Cramer, noCrescendo, 15, 1 8

Czerny, 52, 92, no

UAVIES, FANNY, noDebussy, 85, 103, 104, 105

Development, 33Difficult passages, 55-9Diminuendo, 15, 85

Dissonances, momentary, 24Dominant sevenths, 12, 35-42Dramatic significance, 102-4

Duplication, 94

English Suite in E Minor (J. S.

Bach), 91

Erlkonlg (Schubert), 90Etudes Symp&ontfues (Schumann)

16,97Execution, 5

Exposition, 33

FADINGS, 85

Fantasy Impromptu, 50

Fatigue, 98JF.

"Feroce", 104Fielden, Thomas, 104

Finger passages, 27-30


Fingering, 2, 29, 35-42, 49, 50, 54;

57, 60-2, 95; grotesque, 79;

legato, 61; mixed, 35, 37-8;

organ, 35, 39-40; recurrent,

35-7; unorthodox, 41Forearm, rotary movements of, 83-7

"Forty-eight, The", 10, 6$ff.

Franck, C&ar, 24, 25French Suite in G (J. S. Bach), 4Fugue, 63-7

CJRACE NOTES, 41-2Gradation, uneven, 15

Grieg, 90, 103

Group practice, 28-9, 53, 83-4

HALF-CHANGE, 24Hall Classics, 55Hamlet, 78Hand positions, preparing, 76-9Harmonic effect, 13; progressions,

i off!

Haydn, 37, 104Hindemith, 104Hummel, 74

"TINNOCENTS", 104

Inversion, 13

JACOBS,W. W., 22

KEY CHANGE, 12; signature, 10

"Kreutzer" Sonata, 73Kuhnau, 103

LAMENTS, 102

Largo, op. 7 (Beethoven), 80

"Lebewohl" Sonata (Beethoven),

103Left Hand Study (Czerny), 52

Legato, 3, 17, 19, 24-5, 32, 37, 39,

40,41,53-4,61Leschetizky, i, 7, 22-3, 27, 74, 76,

98, 100, 103, 104, noLieder, 103

Lullabies, 102

MARTEIXATO, 86

Matthay, Tobias, 34, 85Mellowness in^ 109Melodic tone gradation, 8; unit, in.

Memorisation, 4, 105-8Mendelssohn, 3, 22, 23, 46, 47Mental rehearsal, i, 2, 4, 79, 106

Mentalising technique, 5, 44Metronome, practising with, 29"Mit bizarrer Plumpheit", 104Modulations, 12, 21

Moment Musical (Schubert), i, 24Mood-line, unbroken, 3 1-2

Mordent, upper, 84-5Mouvement (Debussy), 104Mozart, 102

Munday, John, 103Muscular development, 98-101

104NARRANTE"Neuritis, 98Nikisch, Artur, 3 1

Nocturne in B major (Chopin), 21;

in D flat (Chopin), 74; in F

sharp (Chopin), 74

V-/CTAVE, 51-4, 58, 60-1; coupler,

65 gauge, 5*; kgato, 53-4?

staccato, 52-4

One-finger practising, 60-2

Opera, 102-3

Over-accentuation, 83, 85

Overtures, 103

114

JL ACE, THE DIFFICULT, 92-3Pachmann, 105Pause, iff., 23, 24, 66

Pedalling, 2, 17-26, 32, 65-6, 80,

85, 109; changing, 25; con-

scious control, 18; influence on

rhythmical life of pieces, 25;

intermittent, 19-20; legato, 17;musical expression, 18; over-,

26

"Perfide", 104

Petersburg, 31

Phrase, iff.

Physical discomfort, 14Piano Concerto (Grieg), 90; in

B flat (Brahms), 99Postman's knock, 45-6

Practising on the surface of the keys,

32, 43-4; special, 14-16; with

wrong hand, 94-5

Prelude^ Aria and Finale (Franck),

24, 25; in C minor (Chopin),

24; in F sharp minor (Chopin),

. f8

Principal note, 84

Programme music, 102, 103

Progressions, 10-14

Prokofiev, 104Prometheus Unbound^ 32

Pugno, 105

JtvALLENTANDO, 72

Recapitulation, 33

Rhapsody in G minor (Brahms), 47Ritual, ix, 1,15Rhythm, 30, 37, 65, 109; postman's

knock, 45-6

Rotary action, 85; freedom, 85-6

"Rowing", 53, 68-71

Rubato, 72, 73Rubinstein, Anton, 104; Competi-

tion, 3 1

ST. PETERSBURG, 3 r

Sarabands, 102

Index

Scales, major, 10; double-note, 35-

41; minor, 10; octave, 51-4;

single-note, 37; whole-tone, 85Scherzo (Mendelssohn), 46; in B

minor (Chopin), 89Schubert, i, 2, 24, 90, 103Schumann, 16, 97, 103, noScriabin, 104

"See-sawing", 29, 44, 53, 68-71

Self-criticism, i, 2-3

Bellinger's Round (Byrd), 37, 105Semitone shifts, n, 13Senza tempo, 72

Shakespeare, 78Shaw, G. B., 44Shelley, 32Shoulder looseness, 68-71

Sight-reading, 88-91

Sincerity, 103

Singing, 7-9, 32-3, 76-8Slow practice, 6, 20, 27, 28, 94Slurs, 36, 37

Smudge, 21, 22, 23, 24, 43, 78Solid intervals, 86Sonata in C minor for piano and

violin (Beethoven), 96; in D(Hummel), 74; op. 2, no. 3

(Beethoven), 90; op. 10, no. I

(Beethoven), 81; op. 26 (Beet-

hoven), 23, 86; op. 27, no. I

(Beethoven), 77; op. 27, no. 2

(Beethoven), 3-4; op. 8iA

(Beethoven), 93Song without words (Mendelssohn),

3

Sound-point, 17

Staccatissimo, 14, 28-9Staccato, 3, 19-20, 41, 45-6, 52-4,

65* 76, loo; bumpy, 38; hand,

27-8;sempre, 37Staleness, curing, 44Stopping practice, i, 5

Stops, experimental, 4-5

Strain, 98Study in A flat, op. 25, no. i

(Chopin), 55-6; in C minor,

op. 10, no. 12 (Chopin), 58-9;in F minor, op. 25, no. 2


Study cont.

(Chopin), 86; in G flat, op.

25 (Chopin)^ 57-8; op. 10,no. 3 (Chopin), 2; op. 10,no. 7 (Chopin), 49; op. 12, no.

12 (Chopin), 27; op. 25, no. i

(Chopin), 50; op. 25, no. 12

(Chopin), 48-9; op. 740, no. 3

(Czerny), 52

Swellings, 85

Symphonic poems, 103

Symphonic Variations (Schumann),

97Symphony in C minor (Beethoven),

103

1 EMPO, CHANGING THE, 74Tenuto, 4, 28

Thinking back, 3, 34; forward, 3, 34Tied notes, 65Timbre, 82

Time, gradations of, 72-5

Toccato (Schumann), noTone, beauty of, 80-2; gradations,

21, 28, 29, 85; schemes, 15

Tovey, 103

Tranquillity, 18

Transposition, 93-4Triads, inverted, 10; root-position,

10

Trills, 83-7, 109

Two-part Inventions (J. S. Bach),

52,60

VARIATIONS ON A THEME OFHANDEL (BRAHMS), 5, 100

"Vienna period", 90

WALDSTEIN" SONATA, 37Waltz, op. 34, no. i (Chopin), 25We Piano Teachers, 43Whole-arm work, 53Wrist work, 53

116

Interpreting Mozart

on the Keyboard

EVA AND PAUL

BADURA-SKODA

Although this book refers mainly to

Mozart's keyboard music, it is designed

to interest anyone who loves the com-

poser's works, whether as performer or

listener. The means of music-making

have changed; the piano is virtually

another instrument; the constitution of

orchestras has greatly changed. This is

dealt with in the first chapter. Much

space,, with many musical examples, is

given to the obscure but important ques-

tion of ornaments. Other chapters deal

with cadenzas and with passages in

Mozart where the performer is expected

to improvise embellishments. A chapter

on Rhythm and Tempo shows the

rational, exact way in which the composer

treated this fundamental question, and

points to some pitfalls for the modern

interpreter. Here, as throughout the book,

the authors draw generously on Mozart's

letters, and on treatises written by other

leading musicians of the time, including

his father and C. P. E. Bach. For the

pianist there is a chapter on some specific

technical problems presented by Mozart's

keyboard writing. The long final chapter

provides a detailed commentary on three

of his best known piano concertos.

"This scholarly and stimulating book . . .

It is a book which no thoughtful player

or teacher can ignore." Listener

"Until the coming of the present book, I

cannot recall one which deals so fully

with the interpretive aspect of his work."

Music Teacher

84$ net

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