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PLAYING WHILE IN SERVICE
"Do I play at all while in Service? I gave up all playing in public when entering the Army a year ago, and to a great extent all private playing as well. I have on one or two occasions played at charity concerts during the past year, once in Rome, and once in the little town in Italy near the aviation camp at which I was stationed at the time. I have purposely refused all other requests to play because one cannot do two things at once, and do them properly. My time now belongs to my country: When we have peace again I shall hope once more to devote it to Art."
XXII
THEODORE SPIERING
THE APPLICATION OF BOW EXERCISES TO THE STUDY OF KREUTZER
A. Walter Kramer has said: "Mr. Spiering knows how serious a study can be made of the violin, because he has made it. He has investigated the 'how' and 'why' of every detail, and what he has to say about the violin is the utterance of a big musician, one who has mastered the instrument." And Theodore Spiering, solo artist and conductor, as a teacher has that wider horizon which has justified the statement made that "he is animated by the thoughts and ideals which stimulate a Godowsky or Busoni." Such being the case, it was with unmixed satisfaction that the writer found Mr. Spiering willing to give him the benefit of some of those constructive ideas of his as regards violin study which have established his reputation so prominently in that field.
TWO TYPES OF STUDENTS
"There are certain underlying principles which govern every detail of the violinist's Art," said Mr. Spiering, "and unless the violinist fully appreciates their significance, and has the intelligence and patience to apply them in everything he does, he will never achieve that absolute command over his instrument which mastery implies.
"It is a peculiar fact that a large percentage of students—probably believing that they can reach their goal by a short cut—resent the mental effort required to master these principles, the passive resistance, evident in their work, preventing them from deriving true benefit from their studies. They form that large class which learns merely by imitation, and invariably retrograde the moment they are no longer under the teacher's supervision.
"The smaller group, with an analytical bent of mind, largely subject themselves to the needed mental drill and thus provide for themselves that inestimable basic quality that makes them independent and capable of developing their talent to its full fruition.
MENTAL AND PHYSICAL PROCESSES COOeRDINATED
"The conventional manner of teaching provided an inordinate number of mechanical exercises in order to overcome so called 'technical difficulties.' Only the prima facie disturbance, however, was thus taken into consideration—not its actual cause. The result was, that notwithstanding the great amount of labor thus expended, the effort had to be repeated each time the problem was confronted. Aside from the obviously uncertain results secured in this manner, it meant deadening of the imagination and cramping of interpretative possibilities. It is only possible to reduce to a minimum the element of chance by scrupulously carrying out the dictates of the laws governing vital principles. Analysis and the severest self-criticism are the means of determination as to whether theory and practice conform with one another.
"Mental preparedness (Marcus Aurelius calls it 'the good ordering of the mind') is the keynote of technical control. Together with the principle of relaxation it provides the player with the most effective means of establishing precise and sensitive cooeperation between mental and physical processes. Muscular relaxation at will is one of the results of this cooeperation. It makes sustained effort possible (counteracting the contraction ordinarily resulting therefrom), and it is freedom of movement more than anything else that tends to establish confidence.
THE TWO-FOLD VALUE OF CELEBRATED STUDY WORKS
"The study period of the average American is limited. It has been growing less year by year. Hence the teacher has had to redouble his efforts. The desire to give my pupils the essentials of technical control in their most concentrated and immediately applicable form, have led me to evolve a series of 'bow exercises,' which, however, do not merely pursue a mechanical purpose. Primarily enforcing the carrying out of basic principles as pertaining to the bow—and establishing or correcting (as the case may be) arm and hand (right arm) positions, they supply the means of creating a larger interpretative style.
"I use the Kreutzer studies as the medium of these bow-exercises, since the application of new technical ideas is easier when the music itself is familiar to the student. I have a two-fold object in mind when I review these studies in my particular manner, technic and appreciation. I might add that not only Kreutzer, but Fiorillo and Rode—in fact all the celebrated 'Caprices,' with the possible exception of those of Paganini—are viewed almost entirely from the purely technical side, as belonging to the classroom, because their musical qualities have not been sufficiently pointed out. Rode, in particular, is a veritable musical treasure trove.
THE APPLICATION OF BOW EXERCISES TO THE STUDY OF KREUTZER
"How do I use the Kreutzer studies to develop style and technic? By making the student study them in such wise that the following principles are emphasized in his work: control before action (mental direction at all times); relaxation; and observance of string levels; for unimpeded movement is more important than pressure as regards the carrying tone. These principles are among the most important pertaining to right arm technic.
"In Study No. 2 (version 1, up-strokes only, version 2, down-strokes only), I have my pupils use the full arm stroke (grand detache). In version 1, the bow is taken from the string after completion of stroke—but in such a way that the vibrations of the string are not interfered with. Complete relaxation is insured by release of the thumb—the bow being caught in a casual manner, third and fourth fingers slipping from their normal position on stick—and holding, but not tightly clasping, the bow.
"Version 2 calls for a return down-stroke, the return part of the stroke being accomplished over the string, but making no division in stroke, no hesitating before the return. Relaxation is secured as before. Rapidity of stroke, elimination of impediment (faulty hand or arm position and unnecessary upper arm action), is the aim of this exercise. The pause between each stroke—caused by relinquishing the hold on the bow—reminds the student that mental control should at all times be paramount: that analysis of technical detail is of vital importance.
"In Study No. 7 I employ the same vigorous full arm strokes as in No. 2: the up and down bows as indicated in the original version. The bow is raised from the strings after each note, by means of hand (little finger, first and thumb) not by arm action. Normal hand position is retained: thumb not released.
"The observance of string levels is very essential. While the stroke is in progress the arm must not leave its level in an anticipatory movement to reach the next level. Especially after the down-stroke is it advisable to verify the arm position with regard to this feature.
"No. 8 affords opportunity for a resume of the work done in Nos. 2 and 7:
"It is evident that the tempo of this study must be very much reduced in speed. The return down-stroke as in No. 2: the second down-stroke as in No. 7: the up-strokes as in No. 2.
"In Study No. 5 I use the hand-stroke only—at the frog—arm absolutely immobile, with no attempt at tone. This exercise represents the first attempt at dissecting the martele idea: precise timing of pressure, movement (stroke), and relaxation. The pause between the strokes is utilized to learn the value of left hand preparedness, with the fingers in place before bow action.
"In Study No. 13 I develop the principles of string crossing, of the extension stroke, and articulation. String crossing is the main feature of the exercise. I employ three versions, in order to accomplish my aim. In version 1 I consider only the crossing from a higher to a lower level:
version 2:
version 3 is the original version. In versions 1 and 2 I omit all repetitions:
Articulation is one of the main points at issue—the middle note is generally inarticulate. For further string crossing analysis I use Kreutzer's No. 25. Study No. 10 I carry out as a martele study, with the string crossing very much in evidence; establishing observance of the notes occurring on the same string level, consequently compelling a more judicious use of the so-called wrist movement (not merely developing a supple wrist, with indefinite crossing movements, which in many cases are applied by the player without regard to actual string crossing) and in consequence securing stability of bow on string when string level is not changed, this result being secured even in rapid passage work.
"In Studies 11, 19 and 21 I cover shifting and left thumb action: in No. 9, finger action—flexibility and evenness, the left thumb relaxed—the fundamental idea of the trill. After the interrupted types of bowing (grand detache, martele, staccato) have been carefully studied, the continuous types (detache, legato and spiccato) are then taken up, and in part the same studies again used: 2, 7, 8. Lastly the slurred legato comes under consideration (Studies 9, 11, 14, 22, 27, 29). Shifting, extension and string crossing have all been previously considered, and hence the legato should be allowed to take its even course.
"Although I do, temporarily, place these studies on a purely mechanical level, I am convinced that they thus serve to call into being a broader musical appreciation for the whole set. For I have found that in spite of the fact that pupils who come to me have all played their Kreutzer, with very few exceptions have they realized the musical message which it contains. The time when the student body will have learned to depict successfully musical character—even in studies and caprices—will mark the fulfillment of the teacher's task with regard to the cultivation of the right arm—which is essentially the teacher's domain.
SOME OF MR. SPIERING'S OWN STUDY SOUVENIRS
"It may interest you to know," Mr. Spiering said in reply to a question, "that I began my teaching career in Chicago immediately following my four years with Joachim in Berlin. It was natural that I should first commit myself to the pedagogic methods of the Hochschule, which to a great extent, however, I discarded as my own views crystallized. I found that too much emphasis allotted the wrist stroke (a misnomer, by the way), was bound to result in too academic a style. By transferring primary importance to the control of the full arm-stroke—with the hand-stroke incidentally completing the control—I felt that I was better able to reflect the larger interpretative ideals which my years of musical development were creating for me. Chamber music—a youthful passion—led me to interest myself in symphonic work and conducting. These activities not only reacted favorably on my solo playing, but influenced my development as regards the broader, more dramatic style, the grand manner in interpretation. It is this realization that places me in a position to earnestly advise the ambitious student not to disregard the great artistic benefits to be derived from the cultivation of chamber music and symphonic playing.
"I might call my teaching ideals a combination of those of the Franco-Belgian and German schools. To the former I attribute my preference for the large sweep of the bow-arm, its style and tonal superiority; to the latter, vigor of interpretation and attention to musical detail.
VIOLIN MASTERY
"How do I define 'Violin Mastery'? The violinist who has succeeded in eliminating all superfluous tension or physical resistance, whose mental control is such that the technic of the left hand and right arm has become coordinate, thus forming a perfect mechanism not working at cross-purposes; who, furthermore, is so well poised that he never oversteps the boundaries of good taste in his interpretations, though vitally alive to the human element; who, finally, has so broad an outlook on life and Art that he is able to reveal the transcendent spirit characterizing the works of the great masters—such a violinist has truly attained mastery!"
XXIII
JACQUES THIBAUD
THE IDEAL PROGRAM
Jacques Thibaud, whose gifts as an interpreting artist have brought him so many friends and admirers in the United States, is the foremost representative of the modern French school of violin-playing. And as such he has held his own ever since, at the age of twenty, he resigned his rank as concert-master of the Colonne orchestra, to dedicate his talents exclusively to the concert stage. So great an authority as the last edition of the Riemann Musik-Lexicon cannot forbear, even in 1915, to emphasize his "technic, absolutely developed in its every detail, and his fiery and poetic manner of interpretation."
But Mr. Thibaud does not see any great difference between the ideals of la grande ecole belge, that of Vieuxtemps, De Beriot, Leonard, Massart and Marsick, whose greatest present-day exponent is Eugene Ysaye, and the French. Himself a pupil of Marsick, he inherited the French traditions of Alard through his father, who was Alard's pupil and handed them on to his son. "The two schools have married and are as one," declared Mr. Thibaud. "They may differ in the interpretation of music, but to me they seem to have merged so far as their systems of finger technic, bowing and tone production goes.
THE GREATEST DIFFICULTY TO OVERCOME
"You ask me what is most difficult in playing the violin? It is bowing. Bowing makes up approximately eighty per cent. of the sum total of violinistic difficulties. One reason for it is that many teachers with excellent ideas on the subject present it to their pupils in too complicated a manner. The bow must be used in an absolutely natural way, and over elaboration in explaining what should be a simple and natural development often prevents the student from securing a good bowing, the end in view. Sarasate (he was an intimate friend of mine) always used his bow in the most natural way, his control of it was unsought and unconscious. Were I a teacher I should not say: 'You must bow as I do'; but rather: 'Find the way of bowing most convenient and natural to you and use it!' Bowing is largely a physical and individual matter. I am slender but have long, large fingers; Kreisler is a larger man than I am but his fingers are small. It stands to reason that there must be a difference in the way in which we hold and use the bow. The difference between a great and a mediocre teacher lies in the fact that the first recognizes that bowing is an individual matter, different in the case of each individual pupil; and that the greatest perfection is attained by the development of the individual's capabilities within his own norm.
MARSICK AS A TEACHER
"Marsick was a teacher of this type. At each of the lessons I took from him at the Conservatoire (we went to him three days a week), he would give me a new etude—Gavinies, Rode, Fiorillo, Dont—to prepare for the next lesson. We also studied all of Paganini, and works by Ernst and Spohr. For our bow technic he employed difficult passages made into etudes. Scales—the violinist's daily bread—we practiced day in, day out. Marsick played the piano well, and could improvise marvelous accompaniments on his violin when his pupils played. I continued my studies with Marsick even after I left the Conservatoire. With him I believe that three essentials—absolute purity of pitch, equality of tone and sonority of tone, in connection with the bow—are the base on which everything else rests.
THE MECHANICAL VERSUS THE NATURAL IN VIOLIN PLAYING
"Sevcik's purely soulless and mechanical system has undoubtedly produced a number of excellent mechanicians of the violin. But it has just as unquestionably killed real talent. Kubelik—there was a genuinely talented violinist! If he had had another teacher instead of Sevcik he would have been great, for he had great gifts. Even as it was he played well, but I consider him one of Sevcik's victims. As an illustration of how the technical point of view is thrust to the fore by this system I remember some fifteen years ago Kubelik and I were staying at the same villa in Monte-Carlo, where we were to play the Beethoven concerto, each of us, in concert, two days apart. Kubelik spent the live-long day before the concert practicing Sevcik exercises. I read and studied Beethoven's score, but did not touch my violin. I went to hear Kubelik play the concerto, and he played it well; but then, so did I, when my turn came. And I feel sure I got more out of it musically and spiritually, than I would have if instead of concentrating on its meaning, its musical message, I had prepared the concerto as a problem in violin mechanics whose key was contained in a number of dry technical exercises arbitrarily laid down.
"Technic, in the case of the more advanced violinist, should not have a place in the foreground of his consciousness. I heard Rubinstein play when a boy—what did his false notes amount to compared with his wonderful manner of disclosing the spirit of the things he played! Plante, the Parisian pianist, a kind of keyboard cyclone, once expressed the idea admirably to an English society lady. She had told him he was a greater pianist than Rubinstein, because the latter played so many wrong notes. 'Ah, Madame,' answered Plante, 'I would rather be able to play Rubinstein's wrong notes than all my own correct ones.' A violinist's natural manner of playing is the one he should cultivate; since it is individual, it really represents him. And a teacher or a colleague of greater fame does him no kindness if he encourages him to distrust his own powers by too good naturedly 'showing' him how to do this, that or the other. I mean, when the student can work out his problem himself at the expense of a little initiative.
"When I was younger I once had to play Bach's G minor fugue at a concert in Brussels. I was living at Ysaye's home, and since I had never played the composition in public before, I began to worry about its interpretation. So I asked Ysaye (thinking he would simply show me), 'How ought I to play this fugue?' The Master reflected a moment and then dashed my hopes by answering: 'Tu m'embetes!' (You bore me!) 'This fugue should be played well, that's all!' At first I was angry, but thinking it over, I realized that if he had shown me, I would have played it just as he did; while what he wanted me to do was to work out my own version, and depend on my own initiative—which I did, for I had no choice. It is by means of concentration on the higher, the interpretative phases of one's Art that the technical side takes its proper, secondary place. Technic does not exist for me in the sense of a certain quantity of mechanical work which I must do. I find it out of the question to do absolutely mechanical technical work of any length of time. In realizing the three essentials of good violin playing which I have already mentioned, Ysaye and Sarasate are my ideals.
SARASATE
"All really good violinists are good artists. Sarasate, whom I knew so intimately and remember so well, was a pupil of Alard (my father's teacher). He literally sang on the violin, like a nightingale. His purity of intonation was remarkable; and his technical facility was the most extraordinary that I have ever seen. He handled his bow with unbelievable skill. And when he played, the unassuming grace of his movements won the hearts of his audiences and increased the enthusiasm awakened by his tremendous talent.
"We other violinists, all of us, occasionally play a false note, for we are not infallible; we may flat a little or sharp a little. But never, as often as I have heard Sarasate play, did I ever hear him play a wrong note, one not in perfect pitch. His Spanish things he played like a god! And he had a wonderful gift of phrasing which gave a charm hard to define to whatever he played. And playing in quartet—the greatest solo violinist does not always shine in this genre—he was admirable. Though he played all the standard repertory, Bach, Beethoven, etc., I can never forget his exquisite rendering of modern works, especially of a little composition by Raff, called La Fee d'Amour. He was the first to play the violin concertos of Saint-Saens, Lalo and Max Bruch. They were all written for him, and I doubt whether they would have been composed had not Sarasate been there to play them. Of course, in his own Spanish music he was unexcelled—a whole school of violin playing was born and died with him! He had a hobby for collecting canes. He had hundreds of them of all kinds, and every sovereign in Europe had contributed to his collection. I know Queen Christina of Spain gave him no less than twenty. He once gave me a couple of his canes, a great sign of favor with him. I have often played quartet with Sarasate, for he adored quartet playing, and these occasions are among my treasured memories.
STRADIVARIUS AND GUARNERIUS PLAYERS
"My violin? It is a Stradivarius—the same which once belonged to the celebrated Baillot. I think it is good for a violin to rest, so during the three months when I am not playing in concert, I send my Stradivarius away to the instrument maker's, and only take it out about a month before I begin to play again in public. What do I use in the meantime? Caressa, the best violin maker in Paris, made me an exact copy of my own Strad, exact in every little detail. It is so good that sometimes, when circumstances compelled me to, I have used it in concert, though it lacks the tone-quality of the original. This under-study violin I can use for practice, and when I go back to the original, as far as the handling of the instrument is concerned, I never know the difference.
"But I do not think that every one plays to the best advantage on a Strad. I'm a believer in the theory that there are natural Guarnerius players and natural Stradivarius players; that certain artists do their best with the one, and certain others with the other. And I also believe that any one who is 'equally' good in both, is great on neither. The reason I believe in Guarnerius players and Stradivarius players as distinct is this. Some years ago I had a sudden call to play in Ostende. It was a concert engagement which I had overlooked, and when it was recalled to me I was playing golf in Brittany. I at once hurried to Paris to get my violin from Caressa, with whom I had left it, but—his safe, in which it had been put, and to which he only had the combination, was locked. Caressa himself was in Milan. I telegraphed him but found that he could not get back in time before the concert to release my violin. So I telegraphed Ysaye at Namur, to ask if he could loan me a violin for the concert. 'Certainly' he wired back. So I hurried to his home and, with his usual generosity, he insisted on my taking both his treasured Guarnerius and his 'Hercules' Strad (afterwards stolen from him in Russia), in order that I might have my choice. His brother-in-law and some friends accompanied me from Namur to Ostende—no great distance—to hear the concert. Well, I played the Guarnerius at rehearsal, and when it was over, every one said to me, 'Why, what is the matter with your fiddle? (It was the one Ysaye always used.) It has no tone at all.' At the concert I played the Strad and secured a big tone that filled the hall, as every one assured me. When I brought back the violins to Ysaye I mentioned the circumstance to him, and he was so surprised and interested that he took them from the cases and played a bit, first on one, then on the other, a number of times. And invariably when he played the Strad (which, by the way, he had not used for years) he, Ysaye—imagine it!—could develop only a small tone; and when he played the Guarnerius, he never failed to develop that great, sonorous tone we all know and love so well. Take Sarasate, when he lived, Elman, myself—we all have the habit of the Stradivarius: on the other hand Ysaye and Kreisler are Guarnerius players par excellence!
"Yes, I use a wire E string. Before I found out about them I had no end of trouble. In New Orleans I snapped seven gut strings at a single concert. Some say that you can tell the difference, when listening, between a gut and a wire E. I cannot, and I know a good many others who cannot. After my last New York recital I had tea with Ysaye, who had done me the honor of attending it. 'What strings do you use?' he asked me, a propos to nothing in particular. When I told him I used a wire E he confessed that he could not have told the difference. And, in fact, he has adopted the wire E just like Kreisler, Maud Powell and others, and has told me that he is charmed with it—for Ysaye has had a great deal of trouble with his strings. I shall continue to use them even after the war, when it will be possible to obtain good gut strings again.
THE IDEAL PROGRAM
"The whole question of programs and program-making is an intricate one. In my opinion the usual recital program, piano, song or violin, is too long. The public likes the recital by a single vocal or instrumental artist, and financially and for other practical reasons the artist, too, is better satisfied with them. But are they artistically altogether satisfactory? I should like to hear Paderewski and Ysaye, Bauer and Casals, Kreisler and Hofmann all playing at the same recital. What a variety, what a wealth of contrasting artistic enjoyment such a concert would afford. There is nothing that is so enjoyable for the true artist as ensemble playing with his peers. Solo playing seems quite unimportant beside it.
"I recall as the most perfect and beautiful of all my musical memories, a string quartet and quintet (with piano) session in Paris, in my own home, where we played four of the loveliest chamber music works ever written in the following combination: Beethoven's 7th quartet (Ysaye, Vo. I, myself, Vo. II, Kreisler, viola—he plays it remarkably well—and Casals, 'cello); the Schumann quartet (Kreisler, Vo. I, Ysaye, Vo. II, myself, viola and Casals, 'cello); and the Mozart G major quartet (myself, Vo. I, Kreisler, Vo. II, Ysaye, viola and Casals, 'cello). Then we telephoned to Pugno, who came over and joined us and, after an excellent dinner, we played the Cesar Franck piano quintet. It was the most enjoyable musical day of my life. A concert manager offered us a fortune to play in this combination—just two concerts in every capital in Europe.
"We have not enough variety in our concert programs—not enough collaboration. The truth is our form of concert, which usually introduces only one instrument or one group of instruments, such as the string quartet, is too uniform in color. I can enjoy playing a recital program of virtuose violin pieces well enough; but I cannot help fearing that many find it too unicolored. Practical considerations do not do away with the truth of an artistic contention, though they may often prevent its realization. What I enjoy most, musically, is to play together with another good artist. That is why I have had such great artistic pleasure in the joint recitals I have given with Harold Bauer. We could play things that were really worth while for each of us—for the piano parts of the modern sonatas call for a virtuose technical and musical equipment, and I have had more satisfaction from this ensemble work than I would have had in playing a long list of solo pieces.
"The ideal violin program, to play in public, as I conceive it, is one that consists of absolute music, or should it contain virtuose pieces, then these should have some definite musical quality of soul, character, elegance or charm to recommend them. I think one of the best programs I have ever played in America is that which I gave with Harold Bauer at AEolian Hall, New York, during the season of 1917-1918:
Sonata in B flat . . . . . . Mozart BAUER-THIBAUD
Scenes from Childhood . . . . Schumann H. BAUER
Poeme . . . . . . . . . E. Chausson J. THIBAUD
Sonata . . . . . . . . . Cesar Franck BAUER-THIBAUD
Or perhaps this other, which Bauer and I played in Boston, during November, 1913:
Kreutzer Sonata . . . . . . Beethoven BAUER-THIBAUD
Sarabanda } Giga } . . . . . . . J.S. Bach Chaconne } J. THIBAUD
Kreisleriana . . . . . . . Schumann H. BAUER
Sonata . . . . . . . . . Cesar Franck BAUER-THIBAUD
Either of these programs is artistic from the standpoint of the compositions represented. And even these programs are not too short—they take almost two hours to play; while for my ideal program an hour-and-a-half of beautiful music would suffice. You will notice that I believe in playing the big, fine things in music; in serving roasts rather than too many hors d'oeuvres and pastry.
"On a solo program, of course, one must make some concessions. When I play a violin concerto it seems fair enough to give the public three or four nice little things, but—always pieces which are truly musical, not such as are only 'ear-ticklers.' Kreisler—he has a great talent for transcription—has made charming arrangements. So has Tivadar Nachez, of older things, and Arthur Hartmann. These one can play as well as shorter numbers by Vieuxtemps and Wieniawski that are delightful, such as the former's Ballade et Polonaise, though I know of musical purists who disapprove of it. I consider this Polonaise on a level with Chopin's. Or take, in the virtuoso field, Sarasate's Gypsy Airs—they are equal to any Liszt Rhapsody. I have only recently discovered that Ysaye—my life-long friend—has written some wonderful original compositions: a Poeme elegiaque, a Chant d'hiver, an Extase and a ms. trio for two violins and alto that is marvelous. These pieces were an absolute find for me, with the exception of the lovely Chant d'hiver, which I have already played in Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam and Berlin, and expect to make a feature of my programs this winter. You see, Ysaye is so modest about his own compositions that he does not attempt to 'push' them, even with his friends, hence they are not nearly as well known as they should be.
"I never play operatic transcriptions and never will. The music of the opera, no matter how fine, appears to me to have its proper place on the stage—it seems out of place on the violin recital program. The artist cannot be too careful in the choice of his shorter program pieces. And he can profit by the example set by some of the foremost violinists of the day. Ysaye, that great apostle of the truly musical, is a shining example. It is sad to see certain young artists of genuine talent disregard the remarkable work of their great contemporary, and secure easily gained triumphs with compositions whose musical value is nil.
"Sometimes the wish to educate the public, to give it a high standard* of appreciation, leads an artist astray. I heard a well-known German violinist play in Berlin five years ago, and what do you suppose he played? Beethoven's Trios transcribed for violin and piano! The last thing in the world to play! And there was, to my astonishment, no critical disapproval of what he did. I regard it as little less than a crime.
*Transcriber's note: Original text read "standad".
"But this whole question of programs and repertory is one without end. Which of the great concertos do I prefer? That is a difficult question to answer off-hand. But I can easily tell you which I like least. It is the Tschaikovsky* violin concerto—I would not exchange the first ten measures of Vieuxtemps's Fourth concerto for the whole of Tschaikovsky's, that is from the musical point of view. I have heard the Tschaikovsky played magnificently by Auer and by Elman; but I consider it the worst thing the composer has written."
*Transcriber's note: Original text read "Tchaikovsky".
XXIV
GUSTAV SAENGER
THE EDITOR AS A FACTOR IN "VIOLIN MASTERY"
The courts of editorial appeal presided over by such men as Wm. Arms Fisher, Dr. Theodore Baker, Gustav Saenger and others, have a direct relation to the establishment and maintenance of standards of musical mastery in general and, in the case of Gustav Saenger, with "Violin Mastery" in particular. For this editor, composer and violinist is at home with every detail of the educational and artistic development of his instrument, and a considerable portion of the violin music published in the United States represents his final and authoritative revision.
"Has the work of the editor any influence on the development of 'Violin Mastery'?" was the first question put to Mr. Saenger when he found time to see the writer in his editorial rooms. "In a larger sense I think it has," was the reply. "Mastery of any kind comes as a result of striving for a definite goal. In the case of the violin student the road of progress is long, and if he is not to stray off into the numerous by-paths of error, it must be liberally provided with sign-posts. These sign-posts, in the way of clear and exact indications with regard to bowing, fingering, interpretation, it is the editor's duty to erect. The student himself must provide mechanical ability and emotional instinct, the teacher must develop and perfect them, and the editor must neglect nothing in the way of explanation, illustration and example which will help both teacher and pupil to obtain more intimate insight into the musical and technical values. Yes, I think the editor may claim to be a factor in the attainment of 'Violin Mastery.'
OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES
"The work of the responsible editor of modern violin music must have constructive value, it must suggest and stimulate. When Kreutzer, Gavinies and Rode first published their work, little stress was laid on editorial revision. You will find little in the way of fingering indicated in the old editions of Kreutzer. It was not till long after Kreutzer's death that his pupil, Massart, published an excellent little book, which he called 'The Art of Studying R. Kreutzer's Etudes' and which I have translated. It contains no less than four hundred and twelve examples specially designed to aid the student to master the Etudes in the spirit of their composer. Yet these studies, as difficult to-day as they were when first written, are old wine that need no bush, though they have gained by being decanted into new bottles of editorial revision.
"They have such fundamental value, that they allow of infinite variety of treatment and editorial presentation. Every student who has reached a certain degree of technical proficiency takes them up. Yet when studying them for the first time, as a rule it is all he can do to master them in a purely superficial way. When he has passed beyond them, he can return to them with greater technical facility and, because of their infinite variety, find that they offer him any number of new study problems. As with Kreutzer—an essential to 'Violin Mastery'—so it is with Rode, Fiorillo, and Gavinies. Editorial care has prepared the studies in distinct editions, such as those of Hermann and Singer, specifically for the student, and that of Emil Kross, for the advanced player. These editions give the work of the teacher a more direct proportion of result. The difference between the two types is mainly in the fingering. In the case of the student editions a simple, practical fingering of positive educational value is given; and the student should be careful to use editions of this kind, meant for him. Kross provides many of the etudes with fingerings which only the virtuoso player is able to apply. Aside from technical considerations the absolute musical beauty of many of these studies is great, and they are well suited for solo performance. Rode's Caprices, for instance, are particularly suited for such a purpose, and many of Paganini's famous Caprices have found a lasting place in the concert repertory, with piano accompaniments by artists like Kreisler, Eddy Brown, Edward Behm and Max Vogrich—- the last-named composer's three beautiful 'Characteristic Pieces' after Paganini are worth any violinist's attention.
AMERICAN EDITORIAL IDEALS
"In this country those intrusted with editorial responsibility as regards violin music have upheld a truly American standard of independent judgment. The time has long since passed when foreign editions were accepted on their face value, particularly older works. In a word, the conscientious American editor of violin music reflects in his editions the actual state of progress of the art of violin playing as established by the best teachers and teaching methods, whether the works in question represent a higher or lower standard of artistic merit.
"And this is no easy task. One must remember that the peculiar construction of the violin with regard to its technical possibilities makes the presentation of a violin piece difficult from an editorial standpoint. A composition may be so written that a beginner can play it in the first position; and the same number may be played with beautiful effects in the higher positions by an artist. This accounts for the fact that in many modern editions of solo music for violin, double fingerings, for student and advanced players respectively, are indicated—an essentially modern editorial development. Modern instructive works by such masters as Sevcik, Eberhardt and others have made technical problems more clearly and concisely get-at-able than did the older methods. Yet some of these older works are by no means negligible, though of course, in all classic violin literature, from Tartini on, Kreutzer, Spohr, Paganini, Ernst, each individual artist represents his own school, his own method to the exclusion of any other. Spohr was one of the first to devote editorial attention to his own method, one which, despite its age, is a valuable work, though most students do not know how to use it. It is really a method for the advanced player, since it presupposes a good deal of preliminary technical knowledge, and begins at once with the higher positions. It is rather a series of study pieces for the special development of certain difficult phases, musical and technical, of the violinist's art, than a method. I have translated and edited the American edition of this work, and the many explanatory notes with which Spohr has provided* it—as in his own 9th, and the Rode concerto (included as representative of what violin concertos really should be), the measures being provided with group numbers for convenience in reference—are not obsolete. They are still valid, and any one who can appreciate the ideals of the Gesangsscene, its beautiful cantilene and pure serenity, may profit by them. I enjoyed editing this work because I myself had studied with Carl Richter, a Spohr pupil, who had all his master's traditions.
*Transcriber's note: Original text read "provied".
THE MASTER VIOLINIST AS AN EDITOR
"That the editorial revisions of a number of our greatest living violinists and teachers have passed through my editorial rooms, on their way to press, is a fact of which I am decidedly proud. Leopold Auer, for instance, is one of the most careful, exact and practical of editors, and the fact is worth dwelling on since sometimes the great artist or teacher quite naturally forgets that those for whom he is editing a composition have neither his knowledge nor resources. Auer never loses sight of the composer's own ideas.
"And when I mention great violinists with whom I have been associated as an editor, Mischa Elman must not be forgotten. I found it at first a difficult matter to induce an artist like Elman, for whom no technical difficulties exist, to seriously consider the limitations of the average player in his fingerings and interpretative demands. Elman, like every great virtuoso of his caliber, is influenced in his revisions by the manner in which he himself does things. I remember in one instance I could see no reason why he should mark the third finger for a cantilena passage where a certain effect was desired, and questioned it. Catching up his violin he played the note preceding it with his second finger, then instead of slipping the second finger down the string, he took the next note with the third, in such a way that a most exquisite legato effect, like a breath, the echo of a sigh, was secured. And the beauty of tone color in this instance not only proved his point, but has led me invariably to examine very closely a fingering on the part of a master violinist which represents a departure from the conventional—it is often the technical key to some new beauty of interpretation or expression.
"Fritz Kreisler's individuality is also reflected in his markings and fingerings. Of course those in his 'educational' editions are strictly meant for study needs. But in general they are difficult and based on his own manner and style of playing. As he himself has remarked: 'I could play the violin just as well with three as with four fingers.' Kreisler is fond of 'fingered' octaves, and these, because of his abnormal hand, he plays with the first and third fingers, where virtuose players, as a rule, are only too happy if they can play them with the first and fourth. To verify this individual character of his revisions, one need only glance at his edition of Godowsky's '12 Impressions' for violin—in every case the fingerings indicated are difficult in the extreme; yet they supply the key to definite effects, and since this music is intended for the advance player, are quite in order.
"The ms. and revisions of many other distinguished artists have passed through my hands. Theodore Spiering has been responsible for the educational detail of classic and modern works; Arthur Hartmann—a composer of marked originality—Albert Spalding, Eddy Brown, Francis MacMillan, Max Pilzer, David Hochstein, Richard Czerwonky, Cecil Burleigh, Edwin Grasse, Edmund Severn, Franz C. Bornschein, Leo Ornstein, Rubin Goldmark, Louis Pershinger, Louis Victor Saar—whose ms. always look as though engraved—have all given me opportunities of seeing the best the American violin composer is creating at the present time.
EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES
"The revisional work of the master violinist is of very great importance, but often great artists and distinguished teachers hold radically different views with regard to practically every detail of their art. And it is by no means easy for an editor like myself, who is finally responsible for their editions, to harmonize a hundred conflicting views and opinions. The fiddlers best qualified to speak with authority will often disagree absolutely regarding the use of a string, position, up-bow or down-bow. And besides meeting the needs of student and teacher, an editor-in-chief must bear in mind the artistic requirements of the music itself. In many cases the divergence in teaching standards reflects the personal preferences for the editions used. Less ambitious teachers choose methods which make the study of the violin as easy as possible for them; rather than those which—in the long run—may be most advantageous for the pupil. The best editions of studies are often cast aside for trivial reasons, such as are embodied in the poor excuse that 'the fourth finger is too frequently indicated.' According to the old-time formulas, it was generally accepted that ascending passages should be played on the open strings and descending ones using the fourth finger. It stands to reason that the use of the fourth finger involves more effort, is a greater tax of strength, and that the open string is an easier playing proposition. Yet a really perfected technic demands that the fourth finger be every bit as strong and flexible as any of the others. By nature it is shorter and weaker, and beginners usually have great trouble with it—which makes perfect control of it all the more essential! And yet teachers, contrary to all sound principle and merely to save effort—temporarily—for themselves and their pupils, will often reject an edition of a method or book of studies merely because in its editing the fourth finger has not been deprived of its proper chance of development. I know of cases where, were it not for the guidance supplied by editorial revision, the average teacher would have had no idea of the purpose of the studies he was using. One great feature of good modern editions of classical study works, from Kreutzer to Paganini, is the double editorial numeration: one giving the sequence as in the original editions; the other numbering the studies in order of technical difficulty, so that they may be practiced progressively.
A UNIQUE COLLECTION OF VIOLIN STUDIES
"What special editorial work of mine has given me the greatest personal satisfaction in the doing? That is a hard question to answer. Off-hand I might say that, perhaps, the collection of progressive orchestral studies for advanced violinists which I have compiled and annotated for the benefit of the symphony orchestra player is something that has meant much to me personally. Years ago, when I played professionally—long before the days of 'miniature' orchestra scores—it was almost impossible for an ambitious young violinist to acquaint himself with the first and second violin parts of the great symphonic works. Prices of scores were prohibitive—and though in such works as the Brahms symphonies, for instance, the 'concertmaster's' part should be studied from score, in its relation to the rest of the partitura—often, merely to obtain a first violin part, I had to acquire the entire set of strings. So when I became an editor I determined, in view of my own unhappy experiences and that of many others, to give the aspiring fiddler who really wanted to 'get at' the violin parts of the best symphonic music, from Bach to Brahms and Richard Strauss, a chance to do so. And I believe I solved the problem in the five books of the 'Modern Concert-Master,' which includes all those really difficult and important passages in the great repertory works of the symphony orchestra that offer violinistic problems. My only regret is that the grasping attitude of European publishers prevented the representation of certain important symphonic numbers. Yet, as it stands, I think I may say that the five encyclopedic books of the collection give the symphony concertmaster every practical opportunity to gain orchestral routine, and orchestral mastery.
A NEW CLASSIFICATION OF VIOLIN LITERATURE
"What I am inclined to consider, however, as even more important, in a sense, than my editorial labors is a new educational classification of violin literature, one which practically covers the entire field of violin music, and upon which I have been engaged for several years. Insomuch as an editor's work helps in the acquisition of 'Violin Mastery,' I am tempted to think this catalogue will be a contribution of real value.
"As far as I know there does not at present exist any guide or hand-book of violin literature in which the fundamental question of grading has been presented au fond. This is not strange, since the task of compiling a really valid and logically graded guide-book of violin literature is one that offers great difficulties from almost every point of view.
"Yet I have found the work engrossing, because the need of a book of the kind which makes it easy for the teacher to bring his pupils ahead more rapidly and intelligently by giving him an oversight of the entire teaching-material of the violin and under clear, practical heads in detail order of progression is making itself more urgently felt every day. In classification (there are seven grades and a preparatory grade), I have not chosen an easier and conventional plan of general consideration of difficulties; but have followed a more systematic scheme, one more closely related to the study of the instrument itself. Thus, my 'Preparatory Grade' contains only material which could be advantageously used with children and beginners, those still struggling with the simplest elementary problems—correct drawing of the bow across the open strings, in a certain rhythmic order, and the first use of the fingers. And throughout the grades are special sub-sections for special difficulties, special technical and other problems. In short, I cannot help but feel that I have compiled a real guide, one with a definite educational value, and not a catalogue, masquerading as a violinistic Baedeker.
VIOLIN EDITIONS "MADE IN AMERICA"
"One of the most significant features of the violin guide I have mentioned is, perhaps, the fact that its contents largely cover the whole range of violin literature in American editions. There was a time, years ago, when 'made in Germany' was accepted as a certificate of editorial excellence and mechanical perfection. Those days have long since passed, and the American edition has come into its own. It has reached a point of development where it is of far more practical and musically stimulating value than any European edition. For American editions of violin music do not take so much for granted! They reflect in the highest degree the needs of students and players in smaller places throughout the country, and where teachers are rare or non-existent they do much to supply instruction by meticulous regard for all detail of fingering, bowing, phrasing, expression, by insisting in explanatory annotation on the correct presentation of authoritative teaching ideas and principles. In a broader sense 'Violin Mastery' knows no nationality; but yet we associate the famous artists of the day with individual and distinctively national trends of development and 'schools.' In this connection I am convinced that one result of this great war of world liberation we have waged, one by-product of the triumph of the democratic truth, will be a notably 'American' ideal of 'Violin Mastery,' in the musical as well as the technical sense. And in the development of this ideal I do not think it is too much to claim that American editions of violin music, and those who are responsible for them, will have done their part."
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