Chapter V (1)

"If one were to ask me what is the indispensable thing in the education of a pianist, I would say: 'First of all, a good guide.' By this I do not mean merely a good teacher, but rather a mentor, a pilot who can and who will oversee the early steps of the career of a young person. In my own case, I was fortunate in having a father, a professional musician, who realized my musical possibilities, and from the very beginning was intensely interested in my career, not merely as a father, but as an artist guiding and piloting every day of my early life. Fate is such a peculiar mystery, and the student, in his young life, can have but a slight idea of what is before him in the future. Therefore, the need of a mentor is essential. I am sure that my father was the author of a great deal of the success that I have enjoyed. It was he who took me to Moszkowski and Rubinstein. The critical advice--especially that of Rubinstein--was invaluable to me. The student should have unrelenting criticism from a master mind. Even when it is caustic, as was von Buelow's, it may be very beneficial. I remember once in the home of Moszkowski that I played for von Buelow. The taciturn, cynical conductor-pianist simply crushed me with his criticism of my playing. But, young though I was, I was not so conceited as to fail to realize that he was right. I shook hands with him and thanked him for his advice and criticism. Von Buelow laughed and said, 'Why do you thank me? It is like the chicken thanking the one who had eaten it, for doing so.' Von Buelow, on that same day played in such a jumbled manner with his old, stiffened fingers, that I asked Moszkowski how in the world it might be possible for von Buelow to keep a concert engagement which I knew him to have a few days later in Berlin. Moszkowski replied: 'Let von Buelow alone for that. You don't know him. If he sets out to do something, he is going to do it.'

"Von Buelow's playing, however, was almost always pedantic, although unquestionably scholarly. There was none of the leonine spontaneity of Rubinstein. Rubinstein was a very exacting schoolmaster at the piano when he first undertook to train me; but he often said to me, 'The main object is to make the music sound right, even though you have to play with your nose!' With Rubinstein there was no _ignus fatuus_ of mere method. Any method that would lead to fine artistic results--to beautiful and effective performance--was justifiable in his eyes.

"Finally, to the student let me say: 'Always work hard and strive to do your best. Secure a reliable mentor if you can possibly do so, and depend upon his advice as to your career. Even with the best advice there is always the element of fate--the introduction of the unknown--the strangeness of coincidence which would almost make one believe in astrology and its dictum that our terrestrial course may be guided by the stars. In 1887, when I played in Washington as a child of eleven, I was introduced to a young lady, who was the daughter of Senator James B. Eustis. Little did I dream that this young woman, of all the hundreds and hundreds of girls introduced to me during my tours, would some day be my wife. Fate plays its role--but do not be tempted into the fallacious belief that success and everything else depend upon fate, for the biggest factor is, after all, hard work and intelligent guidance.'"

_Piano Questions Answered_

CONTENTS

TECHNIQUE PAGE

1. General 3

2. Position of the Body 4

3. Position of the Hand 6

4. Position of the Fingers 6

5. Action of the Wrist 9

6. Action of the Arm 11

7. Stretching 12

8. The Thumb 14

9. The Other Fingers 16

10. Weak Fingers, etc. 18

11. Staccato 21

12. Legato 22

13. Precision 25

14. Piano Touch vs Organ Touch 26

15. Fingering 27

16. The Glissando 29

17. Octaves 29

18. Repetition Technique 34

19. Double Notes 35

THE INSTRUMENT 35

THE PEDALS 39

PRACTICE 45

MARKS AND NOMENCLATURE 57

ABOUT CERTAIN PIECES AND COMPOSERS 75

1. Bach 80

2. Beethoven 83

3. Mendelssohn 85

4. Chopin 86

EXERCISES AND STUDIES 93

POLYRHYTHMS 96

PHRASING 98

RUBATO 100

CONCEPTION 102

FORCE OF EXAMPLE 104

THEORY 104

THE MEMORY 112

SIGHT-READING 117

ACCOMPANYING 117

TRANSPOSING 119

PLAYING FOR PEOPLE 120

ABOUT THE PIANO PER SE 127

BAD MUSIC 133

ETHICAL 135

PITCH AND KINDRED MATTERS 136

THE STUDENT'S AGE 138

TEACHERS, LESSONS AND METHODS 140

MISCELLANEOUS QUESTIONS 150

A FOREWORD

This little book is compiled from the questions and my answers to them, as they have appeared during the past two years in the _Ladies' Home Journal_. Since the questions came mostly from young piano students and cover a large number of matters important to the study of the piano, it was thought that this republication might be of interest to piano students in general, and that, gathered into a little volume, they might form a new and perhaps not unwelcome sort of reference book.

To serve as such and to facilitate the reader's search for any particular subject, I have grouped the questions, together with their answers, under special headings.

It is only natural, however, that a book of this character cannot contain more than mere suggestions to stimulate the reader's individual thinking. Positive facts, which can be found in books on musical history and in kindred works, are, therefore, stated only where they are needful as a basis for the replies. Any rule or advice given to some particular person cannot fit every other person unless it is passed through the sieve of one's own individual intelligence and is, by this process, so modified as to fit one's own particular case.

There are, in addition to the questions presented and answered, one or two points about piano-playing that would naturally not occur to the average student. The opportunity to discuss those here is too favourable to be allowed to pass, and as they hardly admit of precise classification, I venture to offer them here as a brief foreword.

To the hundreds of students who at various times have asked me: What is the quickest way to become a great piano-player? I will say that such a thing as a royal road, a secret trick, or a patent method to quickly become a great artist, does not exist. As the world consists of atoms; as it is the infinitely small things that have forced the microscope into the scientist's hand, so does art contain numberless small, seemingly insignificant things which, if neglected entirely, visit dire vengeance upon the student. Instead of prematurely concerning himself with his inspiration, spirituality, genius, fancy, etc., and neglecting on their account the material side of piano study, the student should be willing to progress from atom to atom, slowly, deliberately, but with absolute certainty that each problem has been completely solved, each difficulty fully overcome, before he faces the next one. Leaps, there are none!

Unquestionably it does sometimes happen that an artist suddenly acquires a wide renown. In such a case his leap was not into greatness, but merely into the public's recognition of it; the greatness must have been in him for some time before the public became aware of it. If there was any leaping, it was not the artist, but the public that did it.

Let us not close our eyes to the fact that there have been--and probably always will be--artists that gain a wide renown _without_ being great; puffery, aided by some personal eccentricity, is quite able to mislead the public, but these will, at best, do it only for a short time, and the collapse of such a reputation, as collapse there must be, is always sure, and sad to behold.

The buoyancy of mind, its ability to soar, so necessary for both creative and interpretative art, these are never impaired by close attention to detail. If they should be destroyed by attention to detail, it would not matter, for they cannot have been genuine; they can have been but sentimental imaginings. Details are the very steps which, one by one, lead to the summit of art; we should be careful not to lift one foot before the other one rests quite securely upon its step. One should--to illustrate--not be satisfied with the ability of "getting through" some difficult passage "by the skin of the teeth" or "without breaking down," but should strive to be able to play _with_ it, to toy with it, in order to have it at one's beck and call in any variation of mood, so as to play it as it pleases the mind and not only the fingers. One should acquire sovereignty over it.

This sovereignty is technique. But--technique is not art. It is only a means to achieve art, a paver of the path toward it. The danger of confounding technique with art itself is not inconsiderable, since it takes a long time to develop a trustworthy technique; and this prolonged association with one subject is apt to give it supremacy over all others in one's mind. To guard against this serious danger the student should, above all, never lose sight of the fact that music, as does any other art, springs from our innate craving for individual expression. As word-thought is transmitted from man to man by verbal language so are feelings, emotions, moods--crystallized into tone-thought--conveyed by music. The effects of music may, therefore, be ennobling and refining; but they can as easily be degrading and demoralizing. For the saints and sinners among music-makers are probably in the same proportion as among the followers of other professions. The ethical value of music depends, therefore, not upon the musician's technique, but solely upon his moral tendencies. The student should never strive to dazzle his auditor's ear with mere technical brilliancy, but should endeavour to gladden his heart, to refine his feelings and sensibilities, by transmitting noble musical thoughts to his mind. He should scorn all unnecessary, charlatanish externalities and strive ever for the inwardness of the composition he interprets; for, in being honest to the composition he will also be honest to himself and thus, consciously or not, express his own best self. If all musicians were sincere in this endeavour there could be neither envy nor jealousy among them; advancing hand in hand toward their common ideal they could not help being of mutual assistance to each other.

Art, not unlike religion, needs an altar around which its devotees may congregate. Liszt, in his day, had erected such an altar in Weimar, and as its high priest he stood, himself, before it--a luminous example of devotion to art. Rubinstein did the same in St. Petersburg. Out of these atmospheres, thanks to the inspiring influences of Liszt's and Rubinstein's wonderful personalities, there have emerged a large number of highly meritorious and some eminent artists. That many of them have lacked the power in their later life to withstand the temptations of quick material gain by descending to a lower plane is to be regretted, but--such is life. Many are called, but few are chosen. Since those days several of these "many" have attempted to create similar centres in Europe. They failed, because they were not serving art, but rather made art serve their own worldly purposes.

The artists of talent no longer group themselves around the man of genius. Perhaps he is not to be found just now. Each little celebrity among the pianists keeps nowadays a shop of his own and all to himself. Many of these shops are "mints," and some of them produce counterfeits. As a matter of course, this separative system precludes all unification of artistic principles and is, therefore, very harmful to the present generation of students. The honest student who will discriminate between these, sometimes cleverly masked, counterfeit mints, and a real art altar must be of a character in which high principles are natively ingrained. It might help him somewhat to remember that when there is no good to choose we can always reject the bad.

What is true of teachers is just as true of compositions. The student should not listen to--should not, at least, repeat the hearing of--bad compositions, though they may be called symphonies or operas. And he can, in a considerable measure, rely upon his own instincts in this matter. He may not--and probably will not--fully fathom the depths of a new symphony at its first hearing, but he must have received general impressions of sufficient power and clearness to make him _wish_ for another hearing. When this wish is absent he should not hear the work again from a mere sense of duty; it were far wiser to avoid another hearing, for habit is a strong factor, and if we accustom our ear to hear cacophonous music we are apt to lose our aversion to it, which is tantamount to a loss of good, natural taste. It is with much of modern music as it is with opium, morphine, and other deadly drugs. We should shun their very touch. These musical opiates are sometimes manufactured by persons of considerable renown; of such quickly gained renown as may be acquired nowadays by the employment of commercialistic methods; a possibility for which the venal portion of the public press must bear part of the blame. The student should not be deceived by names of which the general familiarity is of too recent a date. I repeat that he should rather consult his own feelings and by following them contribute his modest share toward sending some of the present "moderns" back into their deserved obscurity and insignificance.

I use the term "moderns" advisedly, for the true masters--some of whom died but recently--have never stooped to those methods of self-aggrandisement at which I hinted. Their places of honour were accorded to them by the world because they were theirs, by right of their artistic power, their genius and the purity of their art. My advice to the students and to all lovers of music is: Hold on with all your might to the school of sincerity and chastity in music! It is saner and, morally and aesthetically, safer than the entire pack of our present nerve-tickling, aye, and nerve-racking "modernists." Music should always elevate; it should always call forth what, according to the demands of time and place, is best in us. When, instead of serving this divine mission, it speculates upon, and arouses, our lowest instincts for no better purpose than to fill the pockets of its perpetrator, it should receive neither the help nor the encouraging attention of any noble-thinking and clean-minded man or woman. Passive resistance can do a good deal on these premises.

The matter of abstention from a certain type of music recalls to my mind another evil from which Americans should abstain; it is the curious and out-of-date superstition that music can be studied abroad better than here. While their number is not very large, I personally can name five American teachers who have struggled here for many a year without gaining that high recognition which they deserve. And now? Now they are in the various capitals of Europe, receiving the highest fees that were ever paid for instruction, and they receive these high fees from American students that throng their studios. That the indifference of their compatriots drove these men practically out of their country proved to be of advantage to them; but how ought those to be regarded who failed to keep them here? The wrong is irreparable in so far as these men do not think of returning to America except as visitors. The duty of American students and lovers of good music is to see to it that such capable teachers as _are_ still here should _remain_ here. The mass of emigration to Europe of our music students should cease! If a student has what is understood by "finished" his studies here and his teacher sets him free, he may make a reconnoitring tour in Europe. The change of views and customs will, no doubt, broaden his mind in certain directions. But musically speaking, he will be sure to find that most of the enchantment of Europe was due to its distance. Excepting the excellent orchestras of Europe and speaking of the general music-making there, it is at present not quite as good as it is here: neither is the average music teacher in Europe a whit better than the man of equal standing here.

Americans should take cognizance of the fact that their country has not stood still in music any more than in any other direction. Each year has recorded an advancing step in its development. We must cease to compare the Europe of to-day with the America of fifty years ago. At present there is an astonishingly large number of clever and capable musicians in America, and, as with good physicians and lawyers, their ability usually stands in inverse proportion to the amount of their advertising. It is these worthy teachers for whose sake the superstition of "studying abroad" should be foresworn. What Uncle Sam has, in the field of music, not directly produced he has acquired by the natural law of attraction; now that so many talented and learned instructors, both native and foreign, are here they should be given a fair opportunity to finish a pupil's development as far as a teacher can do it, instead of seeing him, half-done, rush off "to Europe." If I were not convinced that a change on this score is possible, I should not have devoted so many words to it. It is merely a question of making a start. Let me hope that each reader of this little book may start this change, or, that, if already started, he will foster and help it. If his efforts should be disparaged by some, he need not feel disheartened, but remember that he belongs to the "land of limitless possibilities."

JOSEF HOFMANN.

PIANO QUESTIONS

TECHNIQUE

1. GENERAL

[Sidenote: _What Does "Technique" Mean?_]

What are the different techniques, and which one is most generally used? What is the difference between them?

Technique is a generic term, comprising scales, arpeggios, chords, double notes, octaves, legato, and the various staccato touches as well as the dynamic shadings. They are all necessary to make up a complete technique.

[Sidenote: _The More Technique the More Practice_]

Why do pianists who have more technique than many others practise more than these others?

Why have the Rothschilds more secretaries than I have? Because the administration of a large fortune entails more work than that of a small one. A pianist's technique is the material portion of his artistic possessions; it is his capital. To keep a great technique in fine working trim is in itself a considerable and time-absorbing task. And, besides, you know that the more we have the more we want. This trait is not only human; it is also pianistic.

[Sidenote: _How to Improve the Technique_]

Should I endeavour to improve my technique by trying difficult pieces?

You should not confine yourself to pieces that come easy to you, for that would prevent all further technical progress. But beware of pieces that are so difficult that you could not play them--in a slower tempo--with absolute correctness. For this would lead to the ruin of your technique and kill the joy in your studies. Play pieces that are always a trifle harder than those you have completely mastered. Do not emulate those who say: "I play already this or that," without asking themselves "how" they play. Artistry depends ever upon the "how."

2. POSITION OF THE BODY

[Sidenote: _Do Not Raise the Piano-Stool Too High_]

Are the best results at the piano attained by sitting high or low?

As a general rule, I do not recommend a high seat at the piano, because this induces the employment of the arm and shoulders rather than of the fingers, and is, of course, very harmful to the technique. As to the exact height of the seat, you will have to experiment for yourself and find out at which height you can play longest with the least fatigue.

[Sidenote: _The Height of the Piano Seat_]

Is my seat at the piano to be at the same height when I practise as when I play for people?

Yes! Height and distance (from the keyboard) of your chair--which should never have arms--you should decide for yourself and once for all time; for only then can you acquire a normal hand position, which, in its turn, is a condition _sine qua non_ for the development of your technique. See also to it that both feet are in touch with their respective pedals so as to be in place when their action is required. If they stray away and you must grope for the pedals when you need them it will lead to a break in your concentration, and this will cause you to play less well than you really can. To let the feet stray from the pedals easily affects your entire position. It is a bad habit. Alas, that bad habits are so much easier acquired than good ones!

3. POSITION OF THE HAND

[Sidenote: _The Tilt of The Hand in Playing Scales_]

Should my hand in playing scales be tilted toward the thumb or toward the little finger? I find that in the scales with black keys it is much easier to play the latter way.

I quite share your opinion, and extend it also to the scales without black keys. I think the natural tendency of the hands is to lean toward the little finger, and as soon as you have passed the stage of preliminary training, as soon as you feel fairly certain that your fingers act evenly, you may yield to their natural tendency, especially when you strive more for speed than force; for speed does not suffer tension, while force craves it.

4. POSITION OF THE FINGERS

[Sidenote: _The Results Count, Not the Methods_]

Does it make any difference if my fingers are held very much curved or only a little? I was told that Rubenstein used his fingers almost flat.

Since you mention Rubinstein I may quote his saying: "Play with your nose, if you will, but produce euphony (_Wohlklang_) and I will recognize you as a master of your instrument." It is ever a question of the result, whether you play this way or that way. If you should play with very much curved fingers and the result should sound uneven and pieced, change the curving little by little until you find out what degree of curvature suits your hand best. Experiment for yourself. Generally speaking, I recommend a free and easy position of hand and fingers, for it is only in a position of greatest freedom that their elasticity can be preserved, and elasticity is the chief point. By a free and easy position I mean that natural position of hand and fingers into which they fall when you drop your hand somewhat leisurely upon the keyboard.

[Sidenote: _Cantabile Passages_]

Should a cantabile passage be played with a high finger-stroke or by using the weight of the arm?

Certain characteristic moments in some pieces require the high finger-stroke. It may be used also in working up a climax, in which case the raising of the fingers should increase proportionately to the rise of the climax. Where, however, the strength of the fingers is sufficient to obtain the climacteric result by pressure, instead of the stroke, it is always preferable to use pressure. As a general principle, I believe in the free-hanging, limp arm and recommend using its weight in cantabile playing.

[Sidenote: _An Incorrect Position of the Fingers_]

Pray how can I correct the fault of bending out the first joints of the fingers when their cushions are pressed down upon the keys?

Your trouble comes under the head of faulty touch, which nothing will correct but the constant supervision by a good teacher, assisted by a strong exertion of your own will power and strictest attention whenever you play. This bending out of the first joint is one of the hardest pianistic ailments to cure, but it is curable. Do not be discouraged if the cure is slow. The habit of years cannot be thrown off in a day.

5. ACTION OF THE WRIST

[Sidenote: _Don't Stiffen the Hands in Playing Scales_]

Should the hands be kept perfectly still in playing scales and arpeggios? Or, to lessen fatigue, is an occasional rise and fall of the wrist permissible in a long passage of scale or arpeggio?

The hands should, indeed, be kept still, but not stiff. Protracted passages of scales or arpeggios easily induce a stiffening of the wrist. Hence, an occasional motion of the wrist, upward and downward, will do much to counteract this tendency. It will, besides, be a good test of the looseness of the wrist.

[Sidenote: _The Loose Wrist_]

Is it not impossible to preserve a complete looseness of the wrist in piano-playing because of the muscles that connect the forearm with the hand?

By no means. You should only see to it that you do not stiffen the wrist _unconsciously_, as most players do. The arm should be held so that the wrist is on a line with it, not bent, and by concentrated thinking you should endeavour to transfer the display of force to the finger-tips instead of holding the tension in your arm. For this produces fatigue, while the way I suggest will lead you to develop considerable force through the hand and fingers alone and leave the arm practically limp and loose. It takes months of study under closest attention, however, to acquire this looseness of the arm.

[Sidenote: _The Position of the Wrist_]

Do you favour a low or high position of the wrist for average type of work?

For average work, I recommend an average position; neither high nor low. Changes, upward or downward, must be made to meet the requirements of special occasions.

[Sidenote: _Do Not Allow the Wrist to Get Stiff_]

If one's wrist is stiff is there any set of exercises especially adapted to acquiring a freer movement? Or is there any special method of exercise?

It depends on whether your wrist is stiff from non-use or from wrong use. Assuming the latter, I should recommend studies in wrist octaves, but you must watch your wrist while playing and rest at the slightest indication of its stiffening.

6. ACTION OF THE ARM

[Sidenote: _When Tremolo Proves Unduly Fatiguing_]

I cannot play tremolo in the left hand for any length of time without great fatigue. I have tried changing the position of the hand from high to low, the sidewise motion, and the quiet hand. What is the correct method, and may the difficulty be overcome by slow practice?

The tremolo cannot be practised slowly, nor with a stiff or quiet hand. The action must be distributed over the hand, wrist, underarm and, if necessary, the elbow. The shoulder forms the pivot whence a vibratory motion must proceed and engage all the points on the road to the fingers. The division of labour cannot be done consciously, but should better proceed from a feeling as if the whole arm was subjected to an electric current while engaged in playing a tremolo.

[Sidenote: _Play Chords With a Loose Arm_]

Should octave chords be played with rigid arms, the wrists and fingers thereby increasing the tone volume, or should the arms be loose? My teachers differ in their methods; so I turn to you for advice.

With few exceptions, dictated by certain characterizations, chords should always be played with a loose arm. Let the arm pull the hand above the keys and then let both fall heavily upon them, preparing the fingers for their appropriate notes while still in the air and not, as many do, after falling down. This mode of touch produces greater tone-volume, is least fatiguing, and will have no bad after-effects.

7. STRETCHING

[Sidenote: _Fatiguing the Hand by Stretching_]

I stretch between my fingers--taking the second and third, for instance, and trying to see how many keys I can get between them. It has helped me, but shall I be doing wrong to continue?

If, as you say, you feel benefited by your stretching exercises you may continue them. But in your place I should beware of fatigue, for while the hand may show an improvement in its stretch while you are practising these exercises, if it is fatigued it will afterward contract so that its stretch is liable to become narrower than it was before.

[Sidenote: _Do Not Injure the Hand by Stretching It_]

Is there any way to increase the stretch of my very small hand?

Any modern teacher, acquainted with stretching your hand, can devise certain exercises that will be applicable to your particular hand. As the lack of stretch, however, may be due to a number of different causes I should advise you to desist from any stretch exercise that might be recommended to you without a close examination of your hand, since the wrong kind of exercise is not only apt, but bound, to injure it, perhaps permanently.

[Sidenote: _A Safe Way of Stretching the Small Hand_]

Is there any exercise, on the piano or otherwise, that would tend to stretch my hand so as to enable me to play octaves? My fingers are short and stubby. My teacher has not given me anything definite on this score.

The attempts to widen the natural stretch of the hand by artificial means lead easily to disastrous results. It was by just such attempts that Schumann rendered his hand useless for piano-playing. The best I can recommend is that before playing you soak your hands in rather hot water for several minutes and then--while still in the water--stretch the fingers of one hand with the other. By doing this daily you will gain in stretch, provided you refrain from forcing matters, and provided also that you are still young, and your hands are flexible.

8. THE THUMB

[Sidenote: "_What is the Matter With My Scales?_"]

What is the matter with my scales? I cannot play them without a perceptible jerk when I use my thumb. How can I overcome the unevenness?

In answering this question I am in the position of a physician who is expected to prescribe a treatment for a patient whom he has neither examined nor even seen. I can therefore advise only in a very general way--as I have done with many questions to avoid the eventuality of being confronted by an exceptional case. The cause of the hand's unrest in the passing of the thumb lies usually in transferring the thumb too late. The thumb waits usually until the very moment when it is needed and then quickly jumps upon the proper key, instead of moving toward it as soon as the last key it touched can be released. This belatedness causes a jerky motion of the arm and imparts it to the hand. Another cause lies in a fault no less grave than the first. Since the hand has only five fingers while the scale numbers many notes (according to its length), the player must replenish his fingers by passing the thumb under the hand so as to form a conjunction between the notes played and those to be played. This passing of the thumb conditions a change or shifting of the hand toward the keys to follow, but the shifting of the hand must not coincide with the passing of the thumb or the result will be a jerk. The position of the hand in relation to the keyboard must not change. It must remain the same until the thumb has struck its new key. Not until then must the shifting of the hand take place. In this way the jumpiness or jerkiness of the scale can be avoided, provided one can follow this precept punctiliously--which is not an easy matter, especially in great speed. Alas, why are those pesky scales so difficult, in fact, the most difficult thing to do on the piano?

[Sidenote: _How to Hold the Thumb_]

What is the correct position for the thumb? Should it be curved well under the hand while playing?

In scale-playing the thumb should be slightly curved and kept near the index finger in order to be ready when needed. In pieces this position of the thumb cannot, of course, always be observed.

[Sidenote: _Which Fingers Demand Most Attention?_]

Should one pay special attention to the training of the thumb?

It may be said that the thumb and the middle finger are the two arch-conspirators against a precise finger technique. They crave your greatest attention. Above all, you must see to it that, in touching the keys with these fingers, you do not move the whole hand, still less the arm.

9. THE OTHER FINGERS

[Sidenote: _The Fourth and Fifth Fingers_]

What exercise would you recommend for the training of the fourth and the fifth fingers?

Any collection of Etudes is sure to contain some that are devoted to the training of those two fingers. In the Cramer Etudes (Bulow's selection) you will find Nos. 9, 10, 11, 14, 19, 20 adapted to your case, but do not pin your faith to the print! In all matters of art the "how" is of far more consequence than the "what." Play what you will, but bear your weak points in mind while you play. This is the real remedy. Keep hand and arm as loose as you can while training the fourth and fifth fingers.

[Sidenote: _The Action of the Little Finger_]

In making wide skips in which the little finger strikes a single note, as, for instance, in left-hand waltz accompaniments, should one strike on the end of the little finger or on its side; and should the finger be curved or held more or less flat?

The little finger should never strike with its side. It should always be held in its normally curved condition, and straighten at the stroke only on such occasions when its own force proves insufficient and requires the assistance of the wrist and arm muscles.

10. WEAK FINGERS, ETC.

[Sidenote: _To Strengthen the Weak Finger Use It_]

How can I strengthen the little finger of my right hand? I avoid it in playing, using the next finger instead.

By employing your little finger as much as possible and at once quitting the habit of substituting another finger for it.

[Sidenote: _The Weak Fingers of the Left Hand_]

What exercise would you recommend for the training of the fourth and fifth fingers of the left hand?

Slow trill with various touches, with highly lifted fingers producing strength through their fall and with a lesser lift of the fingers combined with pressure touch, watching closely that the little finger strikes with the tip and not with the side. Rhythmic evenness should also be punctiliously observed.

[Sidenote: _When the Fingers Seem Weak_]

What kind of technical work would you advise me to take to make my fingers strong in the shortest time consistent with good work?

If your fingers are unusually weak it may be assumed that your muscular constitution in general is not strong. The training of the fingers alone will, in that case, lead to no decisive results. You will have to strive for a general strengthening of your muscular fibre. At this point, however, begins the province of your physician and mine ends. If you consider your constitution normal, four or five hours' daily work at the piano will develop the necessary digital force, if that time is judiciously used.

[Sidenote: _No Necessity to Watch the Fingers_]

Is it always necessary to watch the fingers with the eye?

In places where the fingers slide, and do not jump from one note to another at a distance, there is no need of keeping the eye on them.

[Sidenote: _Biting the Finger-Nails Spoils the Touch_]

Is biting the finger-nails injurious to the piano touch?

Certainly; biting the nails or any other injury to the finger-tips and hand will spoil your touch. Extreme cleanliness and care in cutting the nails the proper length are necessary to keep your hands in condition for playing the piano.

[Sidenote: _To Prevent Sore Finger-Tips After Playing_]

How can I prevent my finger-tips, after prolonged playing, from feeling sore the next day?

Experience teaches that in such cases, as in many others, cleanliness is the best remedy. After playing wash your fingers at once in warm water, with soap and brush, and then rub them well with either cold cream or some similar fatty substance. In the development of speed on the piano, the rigidity of the skin on the fingers is a great hindrance; it makes us feel as if we played with gloves on the fingers.

[Sidenote: _Broad-Tipped Fingers Not a Disadvantage_]

Are broad-tipped fingers considered a detriment to a man student of piano; for instance, if the finger grazes the black keys on each side when playing between them?

Unless broad-tipped fingers are of an unusual thickness I do not consider them an obstacle in the way of good piano-playing; the less so, as the white keys--whatever shape the fingers may have--should never be struck between the black ones, but only in the midst of the open space. Altogether, I hold that the shape of the hand is of far greater importance to the pianist than the shape of his fingers; for it furnishes the fingers with a base of operations and with a source of strength, besides holding the entire control over them. Studying the hands and fingers of celebrated pianists you will find a great variety of finger shapes, while their hands are usually broad and muscular.

[Sidenote: _What to do With the Unemployed Hand_]

When playing a piece in which a rest of a measure and a half or two measures occurs should I drop my hand in my lap or keep it on the keyboard?

If the temporarily unemployed hand is tired it will rest better in the lap, because this position favours the blood circulation, which, in its turn, tends to renew the strength. I should, however, not put it away from the keyboard too often, for this might easily be taken for a mannerism.

11. STACCATO

[Sidenote: _Wrist Staccato at a High Tempo_]

What can I do to enable me to play wrist staccato very fast without fatiguing the arm?

Change your wrist staccato for a little while to a finger or arm staccato, thus giving the wrist muscles a chance to rest and regain their strength.

[Sidenote: _The Difference Between "Finger Staccato" and Other Kinds_]

What does "finger staccato" mean? Is not staccato always done with the fingers?

By no means! There is a well-defined arm staccato, a wrist staccato, and a finger staccato. The latter is produced by a touch similar to the rapid repetition touch--that is, by not allowing the fingers to fall perpendicularly upon the keys, but rather let them make a motion as if you were wiping a spot off the keys with the finger-tips, without the use of the arm, and rapidly pulling them toward the inner hand. The arm should take no part in it whatever.

12. LEGATO

[Sidenote: _The Advantage of Legato Over Staccato_]

Is it better for me to practise more staccato or more legato?

Give the preference to legato, for it produces the genuine piano tone, and it develops the technique of the fingers; while the staccato touch always tends to draw the arm into action. If you play from the arm you cannot expect any benefit for the fingers. For the acquisition of a legitimate legato Chopin's works cannot be highly enough recommended, even in the transcriptions by Godowsky, which become impossible when tried with any touch other than legato. He wrote them, so to speak, out of his own hand, and his legato is so perfect that it may well be taken as a model by anybody.

[Sidenote: _To Produce Good Legato_]

Should you advise me to make use of a high finger-stroke? My teacher makes me use it exclusively, but I notice that my playing is neither legato nor quiet. It is almost humpy.

Your manner of putting the question expressed your own--and correct--judgment in the matter. This playing "in the air" is lost energy, and will not lead to a good legato. The most beautiful tone in legato style is ever produced by a "clinging and singing" gliding of the fingers over the keys. Of course, you have to watch your touch in order that your "clinging" does not deteriorate into "blurring," and that your "gliding" may not turn into "smearing." If you apprehend any such calamity you must for a while increase the raising of your fingers and use more force in their falling upon the keys. Under constant self-observation and keen listening you may, after a while, return to the gliding manner. This much in general; of course, there are places and passages where just the opposite of my advice could be said, but still I think that the high finger-stroke should rather be employed for some special characteristic effects than as a general principle.

[Sidenote: _The Firm and Crisp Legato Touch_]

I am confused by the terms "firm legato touch" and "crisp legato touch." Wherein lies the difference?

Legato means "bound together," for which we substitute the word "connected." Two tones are either connected or they are not connected. The idea of various kinds of legato is purely a sophism, a product of non-musical hyper-analysis. By "legato" I understand the connecting of tones with each other through the agency of the fingers (on the piano). The finger that evoked a tone should not leave its key until the tone generated by the next finger has been perceived by the ear. This rule governs the playing of melodies and slow passages. In rapid passages, where the control through the ear is lessened, the legato is produced by more strictly mechanical means, but there should, nevertheless, always be two fingers simultaneously occupied. Do not take the over-smart differentiations of legato seriously. There is no plural to the word "legato."

13. PRECISION

[Sidenote: _Not Playing the Two Hands at Once_]

My teachers have always scolded me for playing my left hand a little before my right. It is probably a very bad habit, but I do not hear it when I do it How can I cure it?

This "limping," as it is called, is the worst habit you can have in piano playing, and you are fortunate in having a teacher who persists in his efforts to combat it. There is only one way to rid yourself of this habit, namely, by constant attention and closest, keenest listening to your own playing. You are probably misstating it when you say that you do not "hear" it when you "limp"; it seems more likely to me that you do not listen. Hearing is a purely physical function which you cannot prevent while awake, while listening is an act of your will-power--it means to give direction to your hearing.

14. PIANO TOUCH _vs._ ORGAN TOUCH

[Sidenote: _How Organ-Playing Affects the Pianist_]

Is alternate organ and piano playing detrimental to the "pianistic touch"?

Inasmuch as the force of touch and its various gradations are entirely irrelevant on the organ, the pianist who plays much on the organ is more than liable to lose the delicacy of feeling for tone-production through the fingers, and this must, naturally, lessen his power of expression.

[Sidenote: _Organ-Playing and the Piano Touch_]

Is it true that a child beginning music lessons on an organ gets much better tone than one beginning on a piano, and does the side study of pipe-organ, after two years of extensive piano work, impair the piano touch?

It is only natural that a child can get better tone out of an organ than on a piano, because it is not the child but the organ that produces the tone. If the child's purpose, however, is to learn piano-playing it would not be wise to let him begin on an organ, because this would leave the essential element--the art of touch--entirely undeveloped. And if his piano touch has been formed it can easily be undone again by letting him play on the organ.

15. FINGERING

[Sidenote: _The Universal System of Marking Fingering_]

In what respect does American fingering differ from foreign fingering, and which offers the greater advantages?

There is no "American" fingering. Many years ago the "English" fingering (which counts only four fingers and a thumb, and indicates the latter by a plus mark: +) was adopted by a few of the less prominent publishers in America; but it was soon abandoned. If you have a piece of sheet music with English fingering you may be certain that it is not of a recent edition, and I would advise you to obtain a more modern one. The advantage of the universal fingering lies in its greater simplicity, and in the circumstance that it is universally adopted.

[Sidenote: _The C-Scale Fingering for All Scales?_]

Do you advise the use of the C-scale fingering for all the scales? Is it practicable?

The C-scale fingering is not applicable to scales reposing on black keys because it creates unnecessary difficulties, the mastering of which would be a matter rather of mere sport than of art.

[Sidenote: _Fingering the Chromatic Scale_]

Which fingering of the chromatic scale the is most conducive to speed and accuracy?

The right thumb always upon E and B, the left one upon F and C. Between times use three or four consecutive fingers as often as convenient. At the beginning of a long chromatic scale select such fingers as will most naturally bring you to one of the stations just mentioned.

[Sidenote: _The Fingers Needed to Play a Mordent_]

When executing the mordent, is not the use of three fingers preferable to two?

The selection of the fingers for the execution of a mordent depends always upon the preceding notes or keys which lead up to it. Since we cannot lift the hand just before a mordent for the purpose of changing fingers (for this would mean a rude interruption) we have to use whatever fingers happen to be "on hand." An exchange of fingers in a mordent is seldom of any advantage, for it hampers precision and evenness, since, after all, each finger has its own tone-characteristics.

16. THE GLISSANDO

[Sidenote: _To Play a Glissando Passage_]

Will you describe the best method of holding the hand when playing glissando? Which is preferable to use, the thumb or the forefinger?

In playing glissando in the right hand use the index finger when going upward, the thumb when going downward. In the left hand--where it hardly ever occurs--use the middle finger in either direction, or, if you should find it easier, the index finger downward. The production of so great a volume of tone, as is possible on our modern piano, has necessitated a deeper fall of the keys than former pianos possessed, and this deeper dip has banished the glissando almost entirely from modern piano literature.

17. OCTAVES

[Sidenote: _How Best to Play the Octaves_]

Should I play octaves using the "hinge" stroke from the wrist or by using the arm? I find I can get more tone by using the arm stroke, but cannot play so rapidly.

The character of the octaves must govern the selection of means to produce them. For light octaves use the wrist, for heavier ones draw more upon the arm. Rapidity requires that you avoid fatigue. If you feel fatigue approaching from too constant use of one joint, change to the other, and in doing this change also the position of the hand from high to low, and _vice versa_. For wrist octaves I recommend the low position of the hand, for arm octaves the high one.

[Sidenote: _Rapid Octaves_]

Please suggest some method of playing octaves rapidly to one who finds this the most difficult part of piano-playing. Would be grateful also for naming some octave etudes that could be used in the repertoire.

If rapid octaves seem to be "the most difficult part of piano-playing" to you, take it as an indication that they do not suit your nature. A "method" will never change your nature. This need not discourage you, however; it is only to prevent you from trying to make a specialty of something for which you are not especially qualified and to save you a needless disappointment. Hold arms and hands in but a slight tension, and at the slightest fatigue change the position of the hand from high to low and _vice versa_. Your seat at the piano should not be too low. Study the first book of Kullak's Octave School, and, later on, the second book.

[Sidenote: _When Playing Octaves_]

When should I use the arm to play octaves as I have seen some concert players do? As I was watching them there did not seem to be the slightest motion from the wrist.

Most concert players play their octaves more from the arm than from the wrist, but their wrist is nevertheless not so inactive as it seems to have appeared to you. They have probably distributed the work over the wrist, the elbow, and the shoulder in such a way that each had to do only a part of it. Light octaves can come only from the wrist, while heavier ones put the elbow and shoulder into action. To make this distribution consciously is hardly possible. A striving for economy of force and the least possible fatigue will produce this "division of labour" unconsciously.

[Sidenote: _Wrist Stroke in Long Octave Passages_]

When playing extended octave passages, such as the Liszt arrangement of "The Erlking," should the endeavour be to play all from the pure wrist stroke; or is it well to relieve the strain by an occasional impulse (a sort of vibration) from the forearm? Is there any advantage in varying the height of the wrist?

In extended octave playing it is well to vary the position of the wrist, now high and then low. The low position brings the forearm into action, while the whole arm cooperates when the wrist is held high. From the wrist alone such pieces as "The Erlking" cannot be played, because the wrist alone gives us neither the power nor the speed that such pieces require. Besides, the octaves, when all played from the wrist, would sound "cottony." The wrist alone is to be used only in light, graceful places.

[Sidenote: _Stiff Wrists in Playing Octaves_]

In playing octaves or other double notes my wrist seems to stiffen. How can I remedy this?

Stiffness in the wrist results from an unmindful use of it. When practising octaves or double notes think always of holding the arm and its joints in a loose, limber condition, and when you feel fatigued do not fail to stop until the muscular contraction is relieved. In a little while you will see your conscientious practising rewarded by acquiring an elasticity commensurate with your general physical status.

[Sidenote: _Premature Fatigue in the Arms_]

Why does it tire my arms when I play octaves and a continuation of little runs? How can I avoid it, so that they will feel free and easy?

Premature fatigue is usually caused by undue muscular contraction. Keep your arms and wrists loose and you will find that the fatigue disappears. For your sensation of fatigue may be due, not to exhaustion of muscular power, but to a stoppage of circulation caused by an unconscious stiffening of the wrist. Change the position of the wrist from high to low and _vice versa_ whenever you feel the "fatigue" coming on.

[Sidenote: _Kullak's "Method of Octaves" Still Good_]

Is Kullak's "Method of Octaves" still one of the best in its line? or can you recommend something better?

Since the days when Kullak's "School of Octaves" was printed, experience has taught us some things which might be added to it, but nothing that would contradict it. Nor, so far as I know, has anything better appeared in print than the first volume of that work especially.

18. REPETITION TECHNIQUE

[Sidenote: _The Difficulty of Playing Repetition Notes_]

Please help me about my repetition notes. When I wish to play them rapidly it seems that the key does not always produce a sound? Is it because of my touch?

First, examine the action of your piano. It occurs not infrequently that the fingers do their work well, but fail in the results because of an inert or lazy piano action. If, however, the fault does not lie in the instrument, it must lie in a certain stiffness of the fingers. To eliminate this you need, first of all, a loose wrist. Furthermore, you should not, in repetition technique, let the fingers fall perpendicularly upon the keys, but with a motion as if you were wiping the keys with the finger-tips and then pull them quickly toward the palm of the hand, bending every joint of them rapidly.

19. DOUBLE NOTES

[Sidenote: _The Playing of Double Thirds_]

Please tell me something about the general practice of thirds, both diatonic and chromatic; also, about those in the first movement of the Grieg Concerto.