UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 MUSICAL 
 
 INTERPRETATION 
 
 ITS LAWS AND PRINCIPLES, AND 
 THEIR APPLICATION IN 
 
 TEACHING AND PERFORMING 
 
 BY 
 
 TOBIAS MATTHAY 
 
 (professor, lecturer and fellow of the royal academy of music, 
 london, author of the act of touch," "first prin- 
 ciples," some commentaries on piano playing," 
 relaxation studies," the child'8 first 
 steps," 'the rotation element," etc. 
 founder of the tobias matthay 
 pianoforte school, london.) 
 
 New and Enlarged Edition 
 
 jk 
 
 Soi.k Agents foh U. S. A. 
 
 THE BOSTON MUSIC COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON, MASS.
 
 Copyright, 1913, 
 
 BY 
 
 TOBIAS MATTHAY 
 
 for all countries 
 
 B.M.Oo.5713.
 
 
 1(3 
 
 o 
 
 h. 
 
 in 
 
 9 
 
 oo 
 
 CO 
 
 en 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 301636
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Fob many years past I have been urged to put into a 
 permanent and available form my enunciation of those 
 Principles and Laws of Interpretation, knowledge of which 
 has proved to be one of the main causes of the success of the 
 army of teachers who have arisen from my school. 
 
 The first step towards this end was the preparation, in 
 the year 1909, of a set of Lectures covering this ground. 
 These I condensed later into a single lecture, and this was 
 first delivered publicly in Manchester to Dr. Carroll's Asso- 
 ciation of Teachers during the season of 1909-10. Subse- 
 quently, it was repeated to the Edinburgh Musical Education 
 Society, to the London Music Teachers' Association (in 
 1910) and its Branches; it was also given at the Royal 
 Academy of Music in the same year, and at my own School, 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 A full synopsis also appeared in the "Music Student" of 
 April, 1911, and elsewhere. I, nevertheless, still delayed 
 issuing the material in book form, as I felt, in view of the 
 extreme importance of the matters dealt with, that I would 
 like to expand it, but lack of time has prevented my doing so. 
 
 As, however, some of our more up-to-date theorists are 
 now doing me the honor to apply, in their recent works, 
 some of the ideas first enunciated in these lectures of mine 
 (and in my "First Principles," 1905, and "Act of Touch," 
 1903) such, for instance, as the vital one of recognizing in 
 Progression or Movement the actual basis of all Rhythm and 
 Shape in Music. I feel compelled to issue these lectures now 
 as originally delivered. Additional matter is given in the 
 form of Notes; and I leave for later on, perhaps, the issue
 
 VI PREFACE 
 
 of a Supplement giving further details and illustrative 
 Examples. 
 
 It will be found, that while this work deals with the sub- 
 ject mainly from the pianist's point of view, nevertheless 
 most of the principles here formulated apply with equal 
 force to all other forms of musical performance. Many of 
 the same laws of Interpretation which apply to Piano- 
 forte playing also hold good whether we are players of 
 stringed instruments or wind instruments, or are vocalists, 
 organ-players or conductors. We cannot play even on 
 a penny whistle without coming under the sway of such 
 laws! Hence I hope that this little volume may prove 
 helpful to all music-teachers and would-be performers, 
 artists as well as students, whatever their specialty. 1 
 
 Some of the main points here dealt with are: (a) the 
 difference between letting a pupil shift for himself and 
 helping him to learn; (6) the difference between mere 
 cramming and real teaching; (c) the difference between 
 merely making a pupil "do things" and teaching him to 
 think — to the end that he may know what to do, why to 
 do it, and how to do it ; (d) the exposition of the true nature 
 of Rhythm and Shape in Music — as Progression or Move- 
 ment towards definite landmarks; (e) the true nature of 
 Rubato in all its forms, small and large, simple and com- 
 pound, and the laws of its application; (/) consideration 
 of the element of Duration, and, allied to this, rules as to 
 the application of the damper-pedal; also, rules as to the 
 application of Tone- variety, Fingering, Memorizing, etc., 
 and some speculations as to the ultimate reason of the 
 power that Music has over us. 
 
 To prevent misunderstanding, I must at once state that 
 I do not claim that artists are "made" by the mere enun- 
 
 1 Helpful even to the operators of mechanical pianos.
 
 PREFACE VU 
 
 ciation and teaching of such laws and principles as here 
 given, or by those of instrumental technique — although 
 no success can be attained without obedience to these 
 same laws and principles. No, the really great artist 
 always has been, is now, and ever will be, a most rare 
 phenomenon. His advent depends on so many things 
 uniting in one single individual — the highest gifts of 
 imagination and invention, therefore high mental powers 
 (yes, the really great artist must also have high reasoning 
 power), physical and mental endurance, extreme enthusiasm 
 for his chosen art, good health, and the opportunities to 
 acquire the requisite skill to work in strict obedience to the 
 laws of his art. 
 
 Hence, it is not claimed that the truthful Analysis and 
 Synthesis of art or its technique can transform dullards 
 into poets and seers, but what has been amply proven is, 
 that such teachings do inevitably help the ordinary student 
 to succeed in attaining to far higher ideals than he could 
 have reached without such help, and that the "heaven- 
 born" Genius (when he does appear) has many years of 
 useful life added to his career, years otherwise wasted in 
 futile experiments, while his path towards still higher per- 
 fections is thus rendered possible and easy — and his appre- 
 ciation of truth in art made more sound. Such teaching 
 therefore makes for Progress, not only in Music but in 
 Life itself. 
 
 In thanking the many who have encouraged me to under- 
 take the publication of this little work, I must also again 
 thank Mrs. Kennedy-Fraser, of Edinburgh, for her invalu- 
 able help with my proofs. 
 
 Tobias Matthay 
 
 Haslemebe, September, 1912
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 SECTION I 
 
 INTRODUCTORY 
 
 Some General Principles op Teaching and Learning paoe 
 
 Preface v 
 
 Points selected for elucidation 1 
 
 General attitude of the teacher 2 
 
 The learner can only be helped to learn 2 
 
 The first law of teaching 2 
 
 The most usual fault of the teacher 3 
 
 Both teacher and pupil must learn to think 3 
 
 How to practice 4 
 
 The danger of Automaticity 4 
 
 The danger of not really listening 5 
 
 " Listening " denned 5 
 
 Automatic practice useless, even for techniques 5 
 
 We do not really see or hear unless we analyse 6 
 
 As to ear-training, good and bad 7 
 
 Definition of real practice 8 
 
 Constant process of analysis proved necessary 9 
 
 "Genius" implies natural concentration on one's work 9 
 
 Practice implies study 9 
 
 By learning concentration we can all approximate to the Genius level 10 
 
 Not only concentration but imagination necessary 10 
 
 The imaginative power must be trained 10 
 
 The forms of analysis necessary in teaching 11 
 
 The use of Example 12 
 
 The artist as teacher 13 
 
 The informative and the non-informative types of mind 13 
 
 The teacher must be artistic 14 
 
 Why unaided example will not suffice 14 
 
 Example v. Explanation 15 
 
 The necessity of Enthusiasm 17 
 
 ix
 
 X CONTENTS 
 
 nam 
 
 Bad and good teaching 18 
 
 Cramming v. real teaching 19 
 
 To render a pupil "musical" 20 
 
 Bad and good conducting 20 
 
 Teaching v. cramming again 21 
 
 Make sure of your diagnosis before correcting a fault 21 
 
 Concrete cases as examples 22 
 
 Correction of inaccuracy as to Time-details 24 
 
 Playing out of time implies lack of attention 24 
 
 Uselessness of the Metronome as a Time-teacher 24 
 
 Faults arising from bad touch habits 25 
 
 How to correct a wrong tempo 26 
 
 The causes of faults must always be made clear 26 
 
 True education 27 
 
 SECTION II 
 
 The Nature op Musical. Attention and or Musical Shape 
 
 Attention through key-resistance and time 28 
 
 Meaning of "Time-spot " 29 
 
 The Act of Thought, or Attention, itself implies a rhythmical act 30 
 
 Also see pp. 41, 59, and section VI. 
 
 Similarity between playing out of time and playing out of tune 30 
 
 " Grip " in performance 31 
 
 As to Time-training 31 
 
 As to the interpretation of the term " Rhythm " 31 
 
 Correct ideas of Time and Shape in Music 32 
 
 Progression and movement analogous in Music and Painting 32 
 
 The origin of our sense of Pulse 32 
 
 The progressional view of music v. the old segmental view 34 
 
 The difference between the old segmental view of structure, and the ■pro- 
 gressional view of musical structure 35 
 
 Some examples of the Progressional view of structure 36 
 
 The incorrect notation of bar-lines 38 
 
 As to Nomenclature of structural details 39 
 
 Harmonic movement necessary 40 
 
 The process of Memorizing also depends upon Progression 41 
 
 Deliberate indefiniteness in composition 42 
 
 How to apply one's memory 42 
 
 Memory-failure 42 
 
 The various kinds of musical memory 43 
 
 The necessity of muscular memory and its dangers 43
 
 CONTENTS XI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SOent practice 43 
 
 To prevent slithering 44 
 
 Inaccuracy in the sub-divisions of the pulses owing to non-perception of 
 
 the Element of Progression 46 
 
 Progression always towards climax of phrase in spite of decreacendo 47 
 
 Passages broken between hands; correct thinking of them 49 
 
 Broken passages, technical errors 51 
 
 Wrong Bass notes — and other notes 53 
 
 Progression in its larger swings 54 
 
 Warning against purely mechanical "scanning" 54 
 
 To keep the whole in view is a question of memory 56 
 
 "Thinking the Whole" expounded 56 
 
 Perception of a new composition 57 
 
 The cause of stammering unmusically 59 
 
 SECTION III 
 
 The Element of Rubato 
 
 - Tempo-continuity, why necessary 60 
 
 Continuity also depends upon tonal and emotional planning-out 60 
 
 True nature of Rubato usually quite misunderstood 61 
 
 Rubato is no mystery, it is not "silent-sound" not "telepathy" 61 
 
 Ritardandos and Acellerandos are not Rubato 62 
 
 The true rationale of Rubato 63 
 
 Time-curves constantly required 63 
 
 Rubato in modern music 64 
 
 Rubato in older music 65 
 
 Fallacy re the old masters being unemotional 65 
 
 In giving emotional life, Shape must not be lost sight of 66 
 
 When to teach and learn Rubato 67 
 
 The problem of music for Children 67 
 
 The two distinct fundamental forms of Rubato: 
 
 (I) The "leaning" Rubato 70 
 
 Rubato supplies the strongest forms of emphasis 70 
 
 (II) The "push-on" Rubato 71 
 
 The two forms may be combined 71 
 
 Ritardandos and Accellerandos marked in text, often found to be incor- 
 rectly noted Rubatos 71 
 
 The exact position of the return to the pulse must be noted 72 
 
 The cause of the Rubato also to be noted 72 
 
 Rubato allows a phrase-climax to be shown in decrescendo 72
 
 Xll CONTENTS 
 
 PAoa 
 
 Fallacy regarding position of phrase-climax 73 
 
 Attack of phrase 73 
 
 Various forms of Rubato illustrated: 
 
 (I) The more usual form, or "leaning" Rubato 74 
 
 All Means of Expression must always be applied solely to express Music 
 74, and pp. 79, 120, 121, and Section VI. 
 
 Tone-amount varies with note-lengths in uneven passages 75 
 
 In a slow movement, tone for the quicker notes is reduced from a high 
 
 background 76 
 
 In a quick movement the reverse process applies 76 
 
 Further examples of "leaning" Rubato 78 
 
 Rubato-inflections must always be carried out subtly 79 
 
 Example of Rubato-analysis — the first two bars of Chopin's ballade in 
 
 A flat 80 
 
 Example of Rubato showing trend of phrase in spite of diminuendo .... 82 
 
 Example of Rubato showing cross-accent 83 
 
 Again, the importance of "scanning" 84 
 
 Rubato required to depict agitation 86 
 
 Always shapeful, however veiled the shapes 86 
 
 Definiteness, Decision, best expressed without Rubato inflections 87 
 
 Illustrations of these Distinctions emotionally 87-89 
 
 Mis-scanning of Chopin's Scherzos again 87, 89 
 
 Illustrations of Rubato continued : 
 
 (II) The push-on or inverted Rubato 92 
 
 Examples of the combination of the two forms of Rubato 97 
 
 Modern Rubato examples from Beethoven 102 
 
 Rubato can show accent on a rest or tied note 104 
 
 Rubato always in the nature of a curve, never a time-spike 104 
 
 Always keep in view Musical Purpose, during Rubato-inflections 105 
 
 Also see pp. 99, 79 
 
 SECTION IV 
 
 Concerning Certain Details in the Application of Tone-inflection 
 
 and the Bearing of Touch-teaching and Fingering, etc., on 
 
 Interpretation 
 
 The importance of Rubato does not detract from the importance of Tone 
 
 and Duration Contrasts 107 
 
 Lack of tone-variety often not realised by the teacher 107 
 
 Need of accurate listening and analysing again demonstrated 108 
 
 Want of true pp is mostly the cause of deficiency in coloring 109
 
 CONTENTS Xlll 
 
 PAOB 
 
 After a long note, the continuation of the same phrase is often played too 
 
 loudly 110 
 
 Cut away the tone to render certain notes prominent 110 
 
 The individualisation and balance of the constituent notes of chords, 
 
 octaves, etc 112 
 
 An exercise for tonal individualisation 112 
 
 ^~Les8 force required to produce the higher notes than the lower notes of 
 
 the Piano 115 
 
 The tonal emphasising of melody notes should not lead to tasteless 
 
 agoggic accents 115 
 
 The bearing of the teaching of Touch, etc., upon the teaching of Inter- 
 pretation 117 
 
 / Command over Interpretation implies command over technical resources 117 
 Obedience to the laws of Touch and Technique must constantly be in- 
 sisted upon 117 
 
 Knowledge of the laws of Touch and Technique necessary even for the 
 
 beginner 118 
 
 Points as to Touch requiring constant reminder 119 
 
 Musical and Technical Attention must never be allowed to flag while giv- 
 ing attention to the details of Muscular Education 120 
 
 The bearing of Fingering on Interpretation, and the learning of its laws . . 121 
 
 Fingering, also, must not be "crammed" 122 
 
 Its proper teaching 122 
 
 The Memorising of Fingering 122 
 
 Scale fingerings, single and double notes 123 
 
 SECTION V 
 
 As to Pedalling and the Element op Dubatcon 
 
 Just as close attention required for the foot as for the finger 125 
 
 Most pedalling a mass of blemishes 125 
 
 Examples of bad pedalling 126 
 
 Not enough to feel the breaks between the phrasings clearly, one must 
 
 play them clearly 126 
 
 Inadequacy of Pedal-discontinuity 127 
 
 Accuracy in Duration-effects depends immediately upon accuracy in 
 
 listening 128-129 
 
 Value of Duration-contrasts insufficiently realised 129 
 
 Gradations of Tone and Duration contrasted 130 
 
 Pedal-durations more important than Finger-durations 130 
 
 Pedal enhances actual prolongation of sounds 131 
 
 "Syncopated" pedalling 131
 
 XIV CONTENTS 
 
 PA«a 
 
 Why syncopated pedalling is required 132 
 
 Legatissimo pedalling 133 
 
 Echo-resonance of a Hall different from pedal continuity 133 
 
 Examples of Legatissimo Pedalling 133 
 
 Pedal must rise fully 134 
 
 Pedal must remain up long enough 134 
 
 Half-damping effects 135 
 
 The "Sostenente" Pedal 135 
 
 Half-pedalling applied to whole chords 136 
 
 Cessation of sound as a form of emphasis 136 
 
 Examples of this 137-140 
 
 Imperative to listen accurately and constantly to Duration 141 
 
 Various additional Pedalling examples 141-146 
 
 Chopin's Pedalling 143, 144 and 89 
 
 Listen both to finger and to foot-doings 146 
 
 Attention during Performance 147 
 
 SECTION VI 
 
 The Purpose of Art-expression and Its Relation to the Infinite 
 
 The ever-present danger of forgetting the End over the Means 148 
 
 The Purpose of Art is the expression of Feeling 148 
 
 Art-moods which make for Good and which make for Evil 149 
 
 Health and Mood 150 
 
 The nature of Music, its relation to all-pervading Rhythm, and its rela- 
 tion to the ultimately Unknowable 151 
 
 Summary: Report of Lecture on " The Principles of Teaching Interpre- 
 tation" 154-163 
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTES 
 
 No. I. — On Half-Pedalling and Half-Damping 164 
 
 (To follow page 135) 
 
 No. II. — On the Colouring of Octaves and Passing-Notes 166 
 
 (To follow Example 726, page 114) 
 
 No. III. — Tone-Colouring v. Tone-Inflection 167 
 
 (To follow first paragraph of page 117)
 
 MUSICAL 
 
 INTERPRETATION 
 
 SECTION I 
 INTRODUCTORY 
 
 SOME GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF TEACHING 
 AND LEARNING 
 
 The teaching of Interpretation is so complex a problem 
 that at a first glance it seems hopeless to try to cover the 
 ground in one or two short lectures. All one can do is to 
 select some few of the more salient points, points in regard 
 to which the young teacher or performer (and often the 
 older one) is most apt to fail. This, then, is what I 
 
 propose doing, it being understood that no attempt is here 
 made to treat the subject exhaustively. 
 
 The main points I have selected are: 
 
 (1) The difference between Practice and mere Strum- 
 
 ming. 
 
 (2) The difference between Teaching and Cramming. 
 
 (3) How one's mind can be brought to bear upon one's 
 
 work. 
 
 (4) Correct ideas of Time and Shape. 
 
 (5) The element of Rubato and its application. 
 
 (6) The elements of Duration and Pedalling and their 
 
 application. 
 
 (7) Incidentally, some details as to the application of 
 
 the element of Tone-variety.
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 General at- 
 titude of 
 teacher. 
 
 The learner 
 can only be 
 helped to 
 learn. 
 
 The first law 
 of teaching. 
 
 It is impossible, however, to make clear even these par- 
 ticular essentials of teaching, without first taking a cursory 
 glance at the whole problem — the general attitude of the 
 teacher towards those he wishes to help. To begin with, 
 let us recognise the fact, that, accurately speaking, we 
 cannot "teach" anyone anything — in the sense of our 
 being able directly to lodge any knowledge of ours in another 
 mind. 
 
 All we can really do is to stimulate another mind to wish 
 to learn, and suggestively to place before that other mind 
 the things which it is desirable should be apprehended. It 
 is always the other mind which has to make the effort to 
 apprehend, and unless that effort is made nothing can be 
 learnt. 
 
 We cannot teach others, but we can help them to learn. 
 In fact, I will go so far as to say that unless we teachers do 
 recognise this fundamental truth, we cannot hope to begin 
 to succeed in our vocation. We shall also see that one of 
 the very points I wish to insist upon is closely allied to 
 this truth. Let me at once state it here: 
 
 Good teaching consists not in trying to make the pupil 
 do things so that the result of his efforts shall seem like play- 
 ing, but consists in trying to make him think, so that it shall 
 really be playing. 
 
 The good teacher does not try to turn his pupil into an 
 automaton, but tries to prompt him to grow into a living, 
 intelligent being. But more of this anon. 1 
 
 1 As I shall explain later, the fallacious attitude is, to endeavor to 
 use our will and intelligence so that the doings of our pupil's fingers may 
 sound plausible, whereas the correct attitude is to use our intelligence so 
 that the pupil will all the time use his own intelligence and his own will, 
 and may thus learn to guide his fingers correctly, alike musically, and 
 technically.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 3 
 
 Undoubtedly, one of the first things we have to combat The most 
 in a pupil is the wish to be saved all trouble and effort, usual fault oi 
 and to have the "learning" done by the teacher. Indeed, the8tudenL 
 the ordinary pupil invariably starts with the notion, that 
 all he has to do is to be passive and "receptive" — like 
 a laboratory funnel with mouth widely gaping, ready to 
 receive any chemicals (pleasant or otherwise) which the 
 operating chemist may see fit to pour in. This attitude 
 must be at once kindly but firmly combated, and the pupil 
 must be made to see, that it is for him to try to learn, for him 
 to try to apprehend and to assimilate those things to which 
 the teacher is anxious to call his attention. 
 
 Certainly, there are direct and there are indirect (or 
 empirical) methods of teaching in all branches of education; 
 and, as you know, I claim that my teaching-methods are 
 direct — but we now see that this "directness" can refer 
 solely to the method of placing things before a pupil. 
 
 The first general conclusion we are thus driven to accept Both teacher 
 is the need for purposeful brain-use, on the part of both and p u p u 
 teacher and pupil. With regard to the pupil, not ti ^ Bk e 
 
 only is brain-use (i.e. reasoning) imperative during lesson- 
 time, it is even more imperative during the practice-hour 
 when there is no help available from outside. How 
 often indeed do we find the pupil's work brought back 
 worse than at a preceding lesson, in spite of what would 
 seem to have been most judiciously thought-out and care- 
 fully worded advice! And why is this so? Simply, because 
 the pupil in the interval, instead of really practising, has 
 tried with might and main to make himself (or herself) into 
 an automatic strumming-machine. Yes, often it is the 
 
 pupil's fault, he either will not, or cannot use his brains. 
 But believe me, far more often still, it is the teacher's 
 fault, owing to his not having correctly shown the student how
 
 ticity. 
 
 4 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 to use his brains during practice, or not having diplomati- 
 cally enough insisted on real practice, in place of such 
 mere gymnastic strumming. 
 
 How to prac- The first thing to do then, is to give the pupil a clear idea 
 
 tice. of what does constitute real practice. 1 
 
 The danger Remember that the mistaken desideratum with which the 
 
 of automa- student starts work is just this, it seems to him that the 
 ideal state would be to be able to do without thinking. 
 Often enough he does try his utmost to exercise his muscles 
 in his pieces, his studies and techniques — and he does so, 
 believing piano-playing to be a purely gymnastic pursuit like 
 walking and running, etc. Even admitting the necessity for 
 muscular automaticity, he does not realise that a certain 
 amount of reflection is imperative in acquiring it; that 
 walking, running, and breathing, purely automatic as they 
 must be in the end, are all the better for a little reflection 
 on the right ways of doing them. 2 
 
 The average student then, if left to himself, will assuredly 
 try to make himself into a mere automaton in his practice- 
 hour, from sheer horror of the discomfort and irksomeness 
 of mental effort. 
 
 Therefore, this is the first and ever-present obstacle with 
 which we teachers have to contend. We must be prepared 
 to drive home to the pupil that the thing most to be avoided 
 is this very automaticity which seems so attractive to him, 
 
 1 Realise, that the average student has a fixed idea that Piano-practice 
 is a purely gymnastic exercise — he lives in the hope that by going over 
 the ground often enough, the piece may at last "do itself" without his 
 thinking about it at all — a mere exercising therefore of the muscles con- 
 cerned. 
 
 8 Even the athlete must use his judgement, and those who are too 
 lazy or decadent to do their athletics personally must still give their 
 minds to the exhibited exercise, if they mean to derive any interest 
 from it.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 5 
 
 and into which his natural bent will only too assuredly lead 
 him. We may use persuasion or threats, coaxing or snarl- 
 ing, sledge hammer or velvet paw upon him, but if any 
 good work is to be done, we must in some way or other 
 bring him to avoid automatic practice. 
 
 Really, there is nothing more fatal for our musical sense, The danger 
 than to allow ourselves — by the hour — to hear musical °* not t reaU y 
 sounds without really listening to them; and this holds true 
 whether the sounds are made by ourselves or by others; 
 for unless we do listen attentively, we are at that moment 
 inevitably forming habits of lax attention. 1 
 
 Here I must digress for a moment, to make plainer what Listening de- 
 is meant by "really listening," for we cannot get any fined * 
 further unless we are quite clear on this point. Let us, for 
 instance, take a page of print or music. If we turn our eyes 
 upon it, the light from the page pours in upon us, whether 
 we attend to its meaning or not. We may realize that it is 
 
 1 To sound the notes of a piece through as a mere physical exercise, Automatic 
 is not only useless but positively harmful musically; and this applies practice, use - 
 as much to the practice of Studies and Techniques as to that of pieces, ' ® ven 
 for in all repetitions we are always forming or fixing habits — musical e que ' 
 ones and technical ones — and it behooves us, therefore, to see to it that 
 good habits and not bad ones are being insisted upon — habits of keen 
 attention, for instance, and not habits of laxity of attention. It must be 
 constantly insisted upon, that if we try to make the piece, or study, or tech- 
 nical exercise "go by itself," this, so far from being "practice" is indeed 
 the opposite — it is un-pradice. For in trying to turn ourselves into 
 human automata we are doing all we can to render it impossible for us 
 to acquire those habits of mind — of attention — which enable us to 
 play with success; and we shall, in the end, find our head listening merely 
 to the doings of our spine! And this is no mere figure of speech, for it 
 describes quite accurately what does occur in such cases; that is, we here 
 have the conscious, could-be intelligent brain engaged in merely noticing 
 (instead of directing) the clockwork doings of our spinal or ganglionic 
 centres!
 
 6 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 a page of print, we may even read it out aloud, but it con- 
 veys no definite meaning until we do bring our minds upon 
 it. We derive no information from the constant stream of 
 varied light-impressions pouring in through the iris unless 
 we analyse the impressions made on our nerve-ends; unless 
 we (consciously or unconsciously) investigate the impressions 
 there received, we notice nothing, learn nothing, and do not 
 really see anything. 1 
 
 Precisely so is it with our ears, I might say it is even 
 more so, for we cannot shut our physical ears as we can 
 our eyes. All sounds that occur within earshot will cer- 
 tainly reach our ear-drums and the nerve-ends of the inner 
 ear, whether we "listen" or not. But we may derive from 
 this stream of sounds either a mere vague impression that 
 some sort of sound is occurring, or we may, if we turn our 
 minds upon the sound, discover definitely what it consists 
 of and means. 
 We do not We may, even without attention, realize the fact that 
 really see or some music is being made, but' we shall certainly not un- 
 we analyse derstand a n °te of it, unless we do purposely, all the time, 
 notice and in fact analyse the stream of aural-impressions 
 pouring in upon us. 
 
 1 An excellent experiment is, to turn our eyes upon a window covered 
 by a light, diaphanous, gauzy curtain. We shall find, while keeping our 
 eyes quite stationary, that we can allow ourselves to become conscious 
 either of the pattern of the curtain, or of the trees or other objects out- 
 side the window. True, a slight focussing adjustment of the iris-muscles 
 occurs in this case, but the main, important fact taught us is, that we 
 may either notice the curtain itself or the things beyond it at will. Which 
 of the two we do thus observe depends upon the direction we give to our 
 powers of mental-analysis. Moreover, the things we do not thus ana- 
 lyse we also do not observe — and this, although the light rays do pour 
 in upon us all the time, both from the curtain and from the objects 
 beyond it I
 
 INTRODUCTORY 7 
 
 No one is quite so foolish as to try to write or draw with- 
 out at least taking the trouble to look at the paper he is 
 engaged upon. Nevertheless, most music-students fail to 
 realise that it is just as idiotic to try to play any musical 
 instrument without at least taking the trouble accurately 
 to listen to it — all the time. 1 
 
 Yes, that is where "Ear-training" comes in. But how As to ear- 
 much rubbish is written and talked in this cause — a most t™"" 1 ^. 
 righteous cause, when really understood and not perverted | ad 
 into faddism. It would seem that many people imagine 
 "Ear-training" to be a process of actually training a por- 
 tion of one's brain (previously otherwise employed) to be 
 impressed by sounds, or a training of the nerve-ends of the 
 ear-organ itself! Or, perhaps even, a training of the skin 
 and flesh itself — the lobes of the outer ear! 
 
 1 This is one of the greatest difficulties the teacher has to contend with. 
 The average pupil does not in the least realise that he must bring 
 his aural consciousness on the work in hand; neither will he take the 
 trouble to judge what he should do, nor how he should do it, nor will he 
 deign to listen to the actual sounds he is making. Yet when he writes his 
 own name he takes care to "listen with his eyes" on the paper! And 
 even with the best intention to listen and attend properly, the student is 
 apt to fail. You must explain to him therefore, that listening does not 
 mean merely hearing what the automatic centres may manage to do, but 
 that effective listening implies pre-listening all the time as to what should 
 be. Explain to him that he must certainly listen to all he is doing — 
 every note, but in the first place he must want every note aright. Say to 
 him "do want all the time — every note. " Be not taken up with the doing, 
 but on the contrary "let Music tell you what to do" — let the piece, as it 
 goes along, suggest to you what to do; then you rnay be sure that you are 
 using your Imagination as well as your Reason. When the music seems 
 to tell you what to do, then are you using your sub-conscious faculties as 
 you should do eventually. 
 
 In short: during Practice do not try to "do," but try to learn to see; 
 during Performance you may then be able to see Music — its Shape, 
 Feeling and Time-spot, while you compel your fingers to give all this.
 
 8 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Granted, that training may possibly help to sensitise the 
 actual eas-machine or apparatus — granted, also, that there 
 may be a portion of our brain-matter more particularly 
 engaged in aural work — the main point remains, and that 
 is, that all ear-training in the first place signifies Mind- 
 training: training ourselves to observe and notice aural im- 
 pressions, training our mind to make use of the impressions 
 received through our ear-apparatus. In short, Ear-training 
 to be practical, must mean Mind-training, musically. Cer- 
 tainly, we should teach children Ear-attention from the 
 very beginning, and from the simplest steps upwards. 
 But what is generally overlooked is, that every one 
 professing to teach any form of musical performance must 
 insist on such real Ear-training all day and every min- 
 ute of every day when engaged in teaching — if it is to be 
 real teaching at all. 1 
 Definition of A passage must therefore never be played through, no, 
 real practice. no ^. even once through, except for the express purpose of 
 really knowing that passage better; for the purpose of 
 knowing it better not only physically, but also mentally — 
 knowing each bar better, and the piece as a Whole better. 
 First, that we may know it better as to its musical content 
 — both as to Shape and as to Feeling; and secondly, that 
 
 1 Under the new faddism, I have heard of good teachers being turned 
 out of schools on the ground that they, personally, have not acquired 
 some particular stage of ear-discrimination, while no enquiry was made 
 whether they were successful or not in making their pupils use their 
 minds aurally. That the teacher possesses "absolute pitch" (relative 
 pitch is another matter!) is no guarantee whatever that the possessor is 
 in the least musical or observant aurally, or knows how to make others 
 observant. 
 
 To insist on such a test is sheer folly. What should be insisted upon 
 w, that the would-be teacher knows how to make his pupils use their own 
 ears.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 9 
 
 we may know it better technically — which means, that each 
 playing through of it may help us to realize better what to 
 do physically, and what to avoid doing physically at the 
 keyboard. 1 
 
 All this implies a constant process of analysis — of minute Constant 
 analysis as to what should be done and what is being done Pj^essof *"- 
 
 fllvsis Droved 
 
 musically — and also, what should be done and is being neC essary. 
 done technically. 
 
 Moreover, this again presupposes a high degree of con- 
 centration of mind on the part of the pupil, and that pre- 
 cisely is the requirement — full concentration of mind is 
 needed. Now, it is the teacher's very first duty (and con- 
 stant duty) to prompt the pupil in this direction. 
 
 True, such concentration may come almost "naturally" "Genius" 
 to the few possessors of that concatenation of various implies natu- 
 talents which the public loosely gathers up into the term ^^ on 
 genius; and if we do possess this so-called " genius," then one's work. 
 
 1 Indeed, there is no practice worthy the name unless we are all the Practice im- 
 while really studying; studying (or analysing) with a most lavish, but plies study. 
 carefully directed expenditure of thought and reasoning — and not one 
 single note played without such expenditure. But a warning is also 
 necessary here. From sheer wish to do right one may err. One may 
 mistake caution for care. To be cautious — to be afraid of failing — 
 will only chill one musically, and thus cause one to fail. 
 
 To be afraid of failure does not constitute a care for Music at all; on 
 the contrary, it is again a form of selfishness, and as such must therefore 
 cause failure. To succeed in art as in anything else we must be "unselfish," 
 — so far as that is possible to us humans — we must throw self overboard, 
 and really caring for art, we must wish to do well because art is so beauti- 
 ful, so worthy, that any service we can bring to its shrine is as nothing. 
 Thus we shall indeed take trouble, we shall be as keenly alert as lies 
 within our power, not for the sake of our own aggrandisement, but for the 
 sake of making the Beautiful attain to its highest possible perfection; 
 and our "carefulness" will thus, so far from chilling us, stimulate us 
 musically to ever increasingly effective efforts.
 
 10 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 By learning 
 concentra- 
 tion we can 
 all approxi- 
 mate to the 
 genius level. 
 
 Not only con- 
 centration 
 but imagina- 
 tion neces- 
 sary. 
 
 The imagi- 
 native power 
 must be 
 trained. 
 
 we may possibly succeed in giving such close attention with- 
 out apparent effort, for the simple reason, that our bias 
 towards Music is so extreme, and Music is such a keen 
 delight to us, such a matter of life-and-death, that it is easy 
 for us to be in this required state of keen engrossment, even, 
 maybe, without much prompting from the teacher. But 
 the teacher must ever be alert in such rare cases — for even 
 a genius, we find, has frequent lapses of attention ! 
 
 Now it also follows, that although our pupils may not 
 all happen to be such "geniuses," we shall be able to bring 
 them considerably nearer the genius-status if we can but 
 manage to cultivate in them this habit of close attention. 
 Anyway, to the extent that we do succeed in thus improving 
 their powers of musical attention or concentration, to that 
 extent they will certainly be more musical — and that is 
 the point of the argument. 
 
 Please do not misunderstand me to maintain that such 
 power of absolute attention is the attribute which, alone, 
 constitutes genius. Far from it! To concentration we 
 
 must add vividness of imagination. Here, indeed, we have 
 the most salient feature of genius and of real talent — Imagi- 
 nation, the ability keenly to visualise, or auralise things 
 apart from their actual physical happening outside of us. 
 
 This more subtle faculty, imaginativeness — this power 
 of pre-hearing — can also be cultivated in far greater meas- 
 ure than is generally suspected to be possible. Obviously 
 this also is a task which the teacher must set himself to 
 undertake, and must succeed in to some extent, if his pupils 
 are to provide any real pleasure to their listeners. 
 
 Again, since it is clear that good practice implies a con- 
 stant process of analysis, it must be still more clear that 
 teaching implies the same process, persistently and unre- 
 mittingly applied.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 11 
 
 Now, in teaching, analysis implies (broadly speaking) The forms of 
 analysis in four distinct ways: analysis nec- 
 
 * " essary in 
 
 First, we must analyse what the pupil is actually teaming. 
 
 DOING. 
 
 Secondly, we must analyse the faults thereby 
 
 PERCEIVED. 
 
 Thirdly, we must analyse why the pupil is making 
 those faults; and 
 
 Lastly, we must analyse the pupil's attitude of 
 mind, so that we may know how to treat him. 
 
 But before we can form any judgement at all, we ourselves 
 must know the Music we wish to teach — we must have 
 analysed that. 
 
 To be explicit on these four points: 
 
 First: — We cannot become aware of all there is to 
 be corrected, of all the faults made — and the good 
 points made — unless we constantly analyse the impres- 
 sions received from the pupil's performance; and this 
 is what is implied by saying that the teacher must 
 "really listen" all the while. 1 
 
 Secondly: — The actual faults thus perceived (through 
 such close listening) we must again analyse, so that 
 we shall be able to diagnose them; for it is impossible 
 to correct a fault directly or with certainty, unless it 
 has been in the first place allocated either as a musical 
 fault or as a muscular fault, or as one of laxity of 
 attention, etc. 
 
 1 Not listening, but merely hearing a performance, is just as useless 
 in teaching as it is when examining, or learning, or practising. As I 
 have already said, it is not enough merely to "hear," we must really 
 listen, and plainly that means that we must all the while (to the best of 
 our capacity) analyse all we hear.
 
 12 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Thirdly: — We must analyse the particular pupil's 
 mental attitude in making the fault, so that the fault- 
 making may be corrected at its very root. For again, 
 the fault may have arisen, for instance, either from 
 inattention at the moment or inattention during 
 practice; or its cause may be traced to bad habits 
 muscularly, etc. 
 
 And here, especially, do not let us forget always to 
 
 insist that all corrections, whatever their nature, must 
 
 always be made strictly subservient to the musical 
 
 effects required at the moment; else we shall only 
 
 provoke self-consciousness in place of the desired 
 
 correction. For instance, a muscular fault must never 
 
 be corrected as such, but its musical bearing must 
 
 always be kept before the pupil in each and every case. 
 
 Finally: — We must all the time closely analyse the 
 
 pupil's general mental attitude, so that we may be able 
 
 to judge how best to appeal to him (or impress him) so 
 
 that our advice may be received sufficiently seriously 
 
 as to lead to its being followed. 
 
 The use of While I thus insist that both teacher and pupil must 
 
 ex * m P Ie * constantly apply the analytical faculty, while I insist that 
 
 reasons and causes must constantly be made clear to the 
 
 pupil (musically and technically) nevertheless I do not 
 
 maintain that actual Example, in the form of playing, is 
 
 to be contemned. On the contrary, Example is 
 
 most helpful when given in conjunction with explanation, 
 
 especially with those who have the imitative gift strongly 
 
 marked, or who can really feel Music keenly. Often, also, 
 
 as a last resort, it has excellent effect. 
 
 The mistake is to rely entirely upon Example. This can 
 lead only to subsequent disappointment, and with many 
 pupils even to disaster, for the tendency, here again, is to
 
 INTRODUCTORY 13 
 
 turn the pupil into an automatic machine, totally wanting 
 in initiative and in the where-with-all to acquire self-reliance. 
 
 Here we see the reason why the public artist is, as a rule, The artist as 
 so futile as a teacher — futile for the ordinary student, since teacher - 
 only the extremely gifted can learn anything whatever from 
 him. Such artist, as a rule, has usually not the remotest 
 notion how or why he does anything. Nor does he wish to 
 know; and he therefore has to rely in teaching solely and 
 entirely on this precarious device of exemplification. 
 If he ever did reason while learning, long ago has he forgotten 
 the process of learning. In fact, nothing is more antipathetic 
 to such artist, usually, than to be asked to reason upon 
 anything. . . . Long habit has indeed made it seem to him 
 that his own doings have "come naturally" to him and 
 have not been learnt, and must not be taught — in the way 
 one has to learn everything else in life. In fact, that it is a 
 sort of sacrilege, ever to want to know or to investigate the 
 being of Art, and that all that anyone should ever venture 
 to do, is to listen reverently and without question to his — 
 the artist's — supposed, God-given messages! 1 
 
 For the ordinary student to derive any profit from any 
 such exhibition of what may possibly happen to be quite 
 correct "doing," however, it is evident that it is he himself 
 who will have to do all the reasoning and analysing unless 
 the processes are explained to him by some other teacher. 
 
 1 One can, in fact, divide minds into two distinct types, the informative The informa- 
 and the non-informative, in the sense of either wanting-to-know or not tiveandnon- 
 wanting-to-know. I fear the artist is too often of the last-named type; informative 
 he likes to feel and enjoy, but he loathes the troublesome process of learn- types of 
 ing to understand the working of his own machinery. His gorge usually n 1 * 01 *. 
 rises when there is any question of building-up or analysing anything in 
 
 his art hence, also, the few Beethovens, Bachs, and truly great 
 
 artists — and teachers! It is indeed a surprise and a delight to find 
 occasional exceptions to this rule.
 
 14 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 A teacher 
 must be 
 artistic. 
 
 True, the student, if gifted with extreme musi- 
 cal sensitiveness, may succeed in a measure in giving a 
 photograph of what he has heard, but even then it will 
 probably be but a pale or distorted version. 
 
 Such a great artist as Liszt, for instance, undoubtedly did 
 have an overwhelming influence, musically, on all who came 
 into contact with him. Nevertheless, he was not a real 
 "teacher" at all, in the strict sense in which the term is 
 here used — although he was truly a great seer. Indeed, 
 I doubt very much whether Liszt himself ever gave a single, 
 real "lesson" in his life. What he did often do, with his 
 overwhelming enthusiasm and wonderful personality, was 
 to stimulate an incipient, latent, and perhaps lukewarm 
 enthusiasm into a blazing flame. 
 
 Nevertheless, while the artist is thus, as a rule, the most 
 feeble of teachers, no teacher on the other hand is worthy 
 the name unless he, himself, is also more or less an artist — 
 and a finely perceptive one, too! To be a really good 
 teacher, you must therefore possess, or at least you must 
 have possessed a technique sufficiently ample to enable you 
 to give due expression to the artistic feeling which you must 
 have succeeded in cultivating in yourself. So that, 
 
 besides really teaching (i.e., explaining and showing), you 
 may also be able to stir artistic fire and enthusiasm in 
 others by actual example, when necessary. Only then 
 
 can you help your pupils in every way. 
 
 As to the appeal solely to the imitative faculty, it is clear 
 pie, unaided, enough w hy this so often leads the pupil astray — often 
 into sheer musical perversion; for indeed, a high degree of 
 nice judgement is needed to perceive what it is that renders 
 a musical performance good, or the reverse — to perceive 
 what is essential and what is unessential. How can such 
 nicety of judgement be expected from a mere School- 
 
 Why exam- 
 
 fice.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 
 
 15 
 
 student, seeing that it is this very thing you have to teach 
 him? Indeed, he would require no teacher, did he already 
 possess such power of judgement and of analysis. 
 
 Not possessing such highly cultivated power of observa- 
 tion or judgement, the student is almost bound to be capti- 
 vated by some of the more prominent means of expression 
 which you happen to employ in exemplifying to him, or 
 possibly by some details of expression merely differing from 
 those he has used. It is these which he will try to reproduce 
 — with the best of intentions no doubt — but with the con- 
 sequence that the picture will be quite out of focus, out of 
 drawing, a picture probably much worse than it was before 
 he tried to imitate that example which you gave him — 
 remember, an example given without explanation, without 
 the purpose and reason explained to him in so many words. 1 
 
 Let us now consider what happens if we merely play Example ▼. 
 through a passage to a pupil without explanation. I will explanation, 
 play the opening bars of Schumann's "Warum", with the 
 inflections of time and tone more or less correctly given, 
 thus: 
 Example 1.' 
 
 1 We must never forget the fact that the most difficult problem 
 for the pupil is to keep the picture in mind as a whole — as a continuous 
 progression — and not to allow the necessary attention to each detail, as 
 it comes along, to distract him from a persistent purpose to keep Shape 
 and Outline perfectly clear. 
 
 * These time-inflections must be applied very subtly — not in a way 
 so coarse as to call attention to themselves.
 
 16 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Without explanation given to him, the pupil will try to 
 imitate the "means" — the expression-effects — he thinks 
 he has heard me employ, and the result will probably be a 
 frightful parody with blind and futile changes of time and 
 tone, such as the amateur who wishes to appear "musical " 
 loves to make, something like this: 
 
 Example 2. 
 
 But I shall obtain quite another result from the pupil, 
 if I take the precaution thoroughly to explain the passage 
 to him, either before playing it, or afterwards. For in- 
 stance, I must first make the pupil scan the phrase cor- 
 rectly, so that he may understand its rhythmical structure 
 — where its culminating point is, rhythmically, where "it 
 goes to." Again, I must show him, that in music such 
 as this, unless I bend or inflect the time as well as the 
 tone (unless I give proper rubato to it) only squareness 
 will result; and I must even point out exactly how the 
 time is to be curved — where I must waste time to give 
 emphasis, and where I must hasten the time so as to 
 swing the rhythm back to the point where the phrase 
 reaches its little climax, and in the meantime, and beyond 
 all this, I must endeavor to convey to him its emo- 
 tional import, either by gesture or word. In this way, and 
 in this way only, the pupil will be made to understand 
 why he must use the particular expression-means I used
 
 INTRODUCTORY 17 
 
 in exemplifying, and he will then also be able to use such 
 musical sense as he has to guide him to the required proper 
 proportions. 
 
 The result will now be a real performance, one prompted 
 by his own mind in the right way. Moreover, it will dis- 
 play his own individuality, and it will be satisfactory, just 
 because one can perceive in hearing it, that it is guided by 
 the performer's own intelligence. 
 
 Furthermore, the pupil will also have made a step forward 
 in his general knowledge of playing — a permanent step for- 
 ward. Or, at all events, he will have had the opportunity 
 of making it, provided his memory is good enough — for he 
 will have had a lesson in learning to analyse and to apply 
 means to an end. 
 
 There remains to be referred to, one more general charac- Necessity of 
 teristic which we, teachers, must cultivate in ourselves, and enthusi * 8m ' 
 it is an important one. I have insisted that we should do 
 our best to educate ourselves into being deft players as 
 well as analytical teachers, but our efforts will after all be 
 foredoomed to failure, if we expect our pupils in cold blood 
 to give such truly exhausting attention as I have proved 
 to be imperatively necessary. Such attention cannot be 
 given in response to mere cold reasoning by itself, however 
 logical; there must be a stronger motive force than this; 
 there must be an emotional driving force to enable us to give 
 this required attention — we must act under the stress of 
 Feeling or Emotion; in short we must be prompted by 
 Enthusiasm. 
 
 Plainly, the teacher cannot hope in the least to stimulate 
 his pupils to do real, honest work, unless he, the teacher 
 himself, shows that the work matters to him, in fact, that 
 it is a matter of life-and-death to him, whether his pupil
 
 18 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 does succeed or not, and whether the piece discussed is 
 rendered adequately or not. 
 
 Imagination, hard work, yes, they are the fuel, but 
 Enthusiasm is the spark which makes the whole leap into 
 flame. 
 
 But some will object that this is useless talk, that en- 
 thusiasm is purely a personal characteristic, and that we 
 are either made that way, or are not. . . . Well, one must 
 concede that there is some truth in this. But, on the 
 
 other hand, if we try to recognize the fact that we shall be 
 but miserably ineffective teachers unless we do summon up 
 some real interest in our work, it will at least make us try 
 better than before. 
 
 Again, the very fact of our thus trying to attend better 
 and more minutely will, in its turn, inevitably lead to our 
 finding it more and more easy to do so, since the exercise 
 of a faculty always increases its efficacy; and in the end 
 we may realise that it really is worth while trying to help 
 and improve others. . . . And our enthusiasm in our work 
 will assuredly grow, when we see better and better fruits 
 accrue from our better efforts. 
 
 The attempt to do work without giving one's whole mind 
 to it, is indeed a very Hell upon earth, and vice versa, there 
 is no finer Heaven, there is nothing more stimulating, than 
 just this feeling, that our whole fife is in our work, and 
 that evidently we are of use to our fellows. 
 
 Bad and good I have dwelt upon the urgent necessity of the teacher 
 te * chin 8' using his brains all the time; let us next consider how he 
 must use them. Just as important as actually giving 
 
 our mind to our work, is it, that we apply ourselves in the 
 right way. It is not enough to be thoroughly anxious to 
 help our pupil ; our hard trying will after all end but in sore
 
 INTRODUCTORY 19 
 
 disappointment unless we know what help to give and how 
 to give it. 
 
 Here we are face to face with one of the most subtle and 
 yet most radical of the distinctions between good teaching 
 and bad — one of the most radical distinctions between 
 the work of the inexperienced or foolish teacher, young or 
 old, and that of a real teacher, rich in correctly assimilated 
 experience. As I have said before : the bad teacher simply 
 tries to make the pupil do things — "things," points, effects 
 which the teacher feels are necessary; whereas the good 
 teacher tries to make the pupil see and think things, so 
 that, seeing their purpose, he can apply them by his own 
 choice. To be more explicit, simply to make the pupil Cramming v. 
 
 carry out the details of expression and interpretation which realt eaching. 
 seem desirable to you at the moment, only serves to con- 
 vert your pupil into an automaton, an automaton responsive 
 to your thoughts instead of his own — a Trilby to your 
 Svengalism. This is in fact sheer, miserable " cramming." 
 Such cramming can have no abiding influence whatever 
 on the pupil, for you are not in the least educating him 
 — not in the least training his mind. It is doubtful, 
 indeed, whether you will obtain from him, in that way, 
 even one satisfactory performance. No, the only way 
 
 to establish any abiding improvement in your pupil, and 
 also the only way to obtain, immediately, a vivid perform- 
 ance, is patiently and ceaselessly to insist on the pupil 
 himself always using his own ears (upon the actual sounds, 
 and upon the sounds that should be), his own judge- 
 ment, his own reason and his own feeling; and this, not 
 merely "in a general sort of way," but for every note, 
 intimately, so that the musical picture, as a whole, may 
 be successful. 
 
 This does not imply less attention on your part as teacher ;
 
 20 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 on the contrary, it implies far greater attention; for you 
 have to be as it were a vigilant policeman, constantly on 
 the alert, seeing to it that your pupil keeps his mind on his 
 work all the time, and does play every note as it should be 
 played. Instead of acting as a bad orchestral con- 
 
 ductor, you must act like a good conductor at rehearsal, 
 you must explain to your pupil the most intimate details 
 of structure and of feeling, so that he may musically be 
 able to see and feel rightly, and may therefore play rightly 
 because of thus seeing and feeling. 1 
 
 In short, instead of the pupil being made merely to carry 
 into effect the means of expression dictated by you, he must 
 be made to use his own musical imagination and judgement 
 all the time, and also, what is equally important, his physical 
 judgement in connection with the instrument he is using — 
 as Pianist he must be using his sense of key-resistance, etc., 
 all the time. 
 
 You must insist on his doing this all the time he is in your 
 presence, and you must try to induce him to do so all the 
 time you are absent. 
 To render a A pupil generally plays badly, just because neither of 
 pupil "musi- these things are done — unless, of course, he has not mastered 
 the right ways of Technique itself, in which case he will 
 play badly for the simple reason that he is unable to express 
 what he does feel and think. But indeed you will often 
 
 find, that the moment you really succeed in making a pupil 
 
 Bad and good * The difference between a good and bad orchestral conductor depends 
 conducting, on the same laws: the bad conductor treats his men like machines — 
 tries to play on them, whereas the really great conductor tries to make 
 his men into intelligent artists, each one of them, tries to make them see 
 the music, and insists on their using their own musical feeling — in re- 
 sponse to his, it is true, but not in mechanical obedience to his orders, or 
 bandmasterly directions.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 21 
 
 attend musically and physically, that moment all his playing 
 becomes infinitely more musical. 1 Much that seemed hope- 
 lessly wrong from the very foundation upwards, at once 
 becomes better, and often to a quite surprising extent; 
 and a pupil who perhaps seemed "hopelessly unmusical" 
 gradually seems to become endowed with quite musical 
 instincts! 
 
 Before going any further, I must try to make this differ- Teaching 
 ence still clearer — the difference between Teaching and cramming 
 Cramming. I recur again and again to this point, and urge * g<un * 
 upon my Teacher-students that we must do real teaching 
 and not mere illusive "cramming," and yet I find that the 
 temptation to act merely the Svengali tends to master us, 
 unless we constantly resist it. Indeed even the best of us 
 are often enough on the verge of falling into this trap, ever 
 ready for us. But remember, the moment we give way, that 
 moment we cease to be real teachers or educationists. 
 
 It is difficult to resist this temptation, and always carefully 
 to draw the line between merely conducting a performance of 
 our own through our pupil's fingers, and correctly teaching 
 him by prompting him to play by his own initiative, helped 
 by our constant, careful analysis of Shape and Feeling, and 
 by example when desirable. 
 
 The temptation is of course all the greater, when dealing 
 with exceedingly un-alert pupils, so-called "un-musical" 
 ones. This teaching-principle, however, applies every- 
 
 where. Always try to avoid making the pupils "do," 
 always try to make them think. Again, in thus honestly Make sure 
 trying to help your pupils in better fashion, and really try- of your 
 ing to make them use their own brains, you are after all dl *8 no8lg * 
 only scolding and finding fault, and are not really teaching, 
 
 1 By "physically" is here meant the use of one's outer ear, and one's 
 muscular sense — with regard to key-resistance, etc.
 
 22 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Concrete 
 cases. 
 
 unless — and that is the crux of the thing — unless you 
 properly diagnose and make clear the true cause of each 
 fault. 1 
 
 And here we dare not be careless. It behooves us not to 
 accept too hurriedly the first explanation that offers, but 
 always to make sure that we have seen the true cause, the 
 ultimate cause of the pupil's going astray, for while there 
 may be many things that seem to be the cause, we may yet 
 fail to correct the pupil owing to our wrong diagnosis. 
 
 But all such generalities are not really helpful, since the 
 unanalytical person cannot apply them. 
 
 Let us therefore take a concrete example. Say, a pupil 
 plays a passage unrhythmically, such a very ordinary fault 
 as the following one for instance, in Chopin's Polonaise in A: 
 
 Example 3. 
 
 — the left hand is here often played as a quintuplet instead 
 of in the proper Polonaise-rhythm. It was thus misplayed 
 only the other day by a pupil, and as a number of listeners 
 
 1 Let me reiterate it, the radical difference between real teaching and 
 useless cramming is that in cramming you make the pupil parrot your 
 own thoughts more or less unintelligently, whereas, in really teaching, you 
 not only point out to the pupil where he is wrong and what the right 
 effects should be, but always point out also the cause, the why and 
 wherefore of all faults, and hence, the means of their immediate correction; 
 and you thus stimulate the pupil to use his own judgment and feeling all 
 the time — musically and technically.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 23 
 
 were in the room (some of them teachers of some experience) 
 I thought I would ask these to explain the fault. Here 
 are some of the answers: 
 
 "Sounds sloppy" — "must be played with more spirit," 
 — which was true enough, but was no explanation 
 of the fault, — any more than were the following 
 ones. 
 
 "Not enough accent in the right hand!" 
 
 "Not enough accent in the left hand!" 
 
 "Tone too much the same in both hands!" (True 
 enough, subsidiarily.) 
 
 "Tone too heavy in left hand!" (Also true.) 
 
 "It is clumsy — holds herself too stiffly." 
 
 "Plays with too much arm-weight." (They thought 
 that would please me!) But the pupil continued to 
 play her quintuplet in the left hand. Then they got 
 warmer : 
 
 "Does not play rhythmically." 
 
 "Left hand is not in time." 
 
 " Does not hold the first quaver long enough" (perfectly 
 
 true, of course). 
 "Plays the two semiquavers too soon." 
 
 Nevertheless, none of these answers (not even the later 
 ones) formed any true correction or analysis of the cause 
 of the fault. None went to the root of the matter. True, 
 the result of the fault was plain enough all the time — its 
 ill-effect, and in the end the unmusical result was also cor- 
 rectly enough located. But the pupil was not told how the 
 fault had arisen, nor how to correct it. . . . Hence, none 
 of these tentative "corrections" formed any real teaching 
 of the pupil.
 
 24 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 details. 
 
 How to cor- The only possible direction to give to her, the only pos- 
 rcct inaccu- s [\y\ e rea i teaching of this pupil, here, was simply to point out, 
 ™ tLu *" that sne had failed to attend to time at that particular spot, 
 and had therefore omitted to notice where (in Time) the 
 first of those two semiquavers should occur: 
 Example 4. 
 
 etc. 
 
 It sufficed to point out to her this lapse of Time-attention, 
 and of course the correction was instantaneously accom- 
 plished. It was now a true correction, it will be noticed, 
 because the pupil herself was made to think rightly, was 
 made to use her own judgement in the matter — for she 
 was shown where her own Time-attention had been slack 
 and was shown the consequences of such slackness. There- 
 fore, it was true teaching; for she had been shown not only 
 how to correct this particular fault, but, if she tried to profit 
 by this lesson, she had the opportunity of improving herself 
 abidingly, she had learnt something that might last her 
 lifetime. 
 
 Believe me, no one ever plays "out of time" if he really 
 attends to Time. The fault is that pupils do not attend, nay, 
 even find it impossible to attend — but only because they 
 have not learnt to do so. It is precisely such attention 
 which you have to teach them, every pupil you have, and 
 all the time. 1 
 
 Uselessness x You see, therefore, how useless it is to hope to teach your pupils a 
 of the metro- sense of Time and Rhythm by merely beating time to their perform- 
 nome, as a ances, or making them listen to your exhibition of a Time-sense. True, 
 time-teacher, the force of example may have some little effect, and your pupils may 
 
 Playing out 
 of time 
 means lack 
 of attention.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 25 
 
 To take other and opposite instances, of technical short- 
 comings : 
 
 A comparatively musical pupil, who is obviously trying Faults axis- 
 hard to play a cantabile passage most soulfully and sym- *** from b* d 
 pathetically, fails sadly, however, owing to bad touch- 
 habits. Here it is of no use telling her to "sing the passage 
 better," or to "play it more sympathetically.' ' The only 
 way to help her is to explain to her how to produce the sing- 
 ing effect easily and therefore successfully, i. e., by arm-lapse, 
 flat finger, and careful attention to the necessary crescendo 
 of speed during key-descent, and accurate "aiming" of 
 the key-motion, etc. 
 
 Or, in a related case, a pupil may play her passages 
 "stickily" or unevenly; here again, it is useless merely to call 
 attention to these defects — probably she notices them (to 
 her sorrow) as much as you do. The only true correction 
 
 play tolerably in time while you are "pumping" away, or counting or 
 shouting; but the moment they are left alone — as they have to be for 
 most of their playing-time — they play just as badly as before, since you 
 have not told them how to help themselves. The only way to teach 
 
 them, is unremittingly to insist on their attending to their own sense of 
 Time-throb or sense of Rhythm while you have the chance. Do 
 
 not allow their rhythmical attention to flag for a moment while they are 
 with you. Moreover, you, yourself, will have to be alert all the 
 
 time, else your own Imitative-sense will cause you unconsciously to follow 
 their lax pulse-feeling, and you, yourself, being misled, will fail to notice 
 their aberrations from Time-continuity. You must be alert all the while so 
 that your own Time-sense may remain unshaken, and so that you may com- 
 pare your pupils' doings (in this respect) with what you feel is imperative. 
 Hence, also, you realize the folly of imagining that a Metronome can 
 serve as a Time-teacher. You see, the pupil has to learn to play to a 
 pulse-throb of his own making all the while; it is therefore of very little 
 use indeed learning to pay obedience to an outside, machine-made Pulse- 
 throb. And in any case, a Metronome is apt to kill the finer Time-sense 
 implied by Rubato. But more about this anon.
 
 26 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 is to show her the cause of her defects — probably a forearm 
 held stiffly, rotarily, and the rotary exertions not adjusted 
 accurately to each finger, or maybe, complete ignorance as 
 to the evil effects of "key-bedding." Or, it may even be 
 a case of one actually mistaught technically, a victim for 
 instance of the doctrine of "holding the knuckles in" — 
 the doctrine which has done such an inconceivable amount 
 of mischief at so many of our schools for girls, and music 
 schools here and elsewhere. In such case, it is of no use 
 saying "you must hold the knuckles up" — that would only 
 do harm. You must show and make clear, that if the 
 finger is properly exerted and the arm is not forced down, 
 the knuckles will then automatically assume their natural 
 level position; and you must demonstrate that it is just 
 as impossible to use one's fingers freely and easily at 
 the Piano under such absurdly unnatural and helpless 
 conditions, as it would be to take a walk with one's legs 
 doubled up at the knee — in the crouching position assumed 
 for a certain kind of comic race. 
 Correction of As two final instances : when a slow movement is played 
 incorrect too slowly, do not say "play quicker"; instead, try to make 
 tempi. ^ e p U pjj think the music in longer phrases. Again, if a 
 
 quick movement is played too fast, you will only hamper 
 yourself, or your pupil, by telling him to "try to make the 
 piece go slower"; instead, here draw attention to the in- 
 between beats, or sub-divisions of these beats, and the result 
 is immediately attained and with certainty. 
 The causes No, teaching does not consist in merely pointing out the 
 of faults must existence of faults — not now-a-days — but in our always 
 m ™l\i* ar making clear the cause of each fault, and the direct means 
 of its correction. 1 
 
 1 In other words: it is not enough to notice the nature of each fault 
 and to point this out to the pupil, you must correctly diagnose the cause 
 of each fault and explain that to the pupil. 
 
 made clear.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 27 
 
 You have to teach people to attend, to analyse, to notice 
 on their own account — to notice and observe Time, and 
 also everything else, Tone and Duration, how they should 
 be, and also, how they really appear; and you also have to 
 teach people how to obtain the required tonal effects from 
 their instrument. 
 
 To teach people how to attend and how to do, — how to True educa- 
 feel and perceive, that alone is real teaching, and it is a tion - 
 proud thing to be engaged upon. It is never "hack-work" 
 — if you insist thus on really teaching people how to think, 
 and do not try to make them use their fingers in response 
 merely to your musical wishes. Only by bearing these 
 things in mind can you avoid being a "crammer," and can 
 you attain to being a true educationist.
 
 SECTION II 
 
 THE NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND OF 
 MUSICAL SHAPE 
 
 We have now realised how keenly close attention must 
 be striven for by the pupil; this brings us to a consideration 
 of the next practical question, how such attention is to be 
 brought about immediately and inevitably. 
 Attention The answer is the one I have already so often insisted 
 
 ^^ key " u P on — tne oru y P oss ible way of attending to Music during 
 and time. Performance is through that duplex form of attention, atten- 
 tion through key-resistance, and attenti' a through time. 
 
 Whatever the passage, whether of the slowest cantabile, 
 or the lightest and swiftest agility, we can only attend to it 
 by unremittingly giving our minds, in the first place, to the 
 requirements of the instrument itself, that is, to the constantly 
 varying resistance of the key itself during its descent, corre- 
 sponding to the various tones required. 
 
 And again, in the second place, it is only possible definitely 
 to guide the forces we are thus prompted to expend, by 
 definitely intending and accurately fulfilling a "Time-spot" 
 for each note. In short, to enable us to attend to musical 
 feeling we must (at the Piano) attend to the Key, through 
 its every motion being exactly chosen and timed. 1 
 
 1 Is not this a strange paradox, that to enable us to play musically we 
 must give close attention mechanically — through the key-lever; and in 
 the same way, the fiddler must attend through his bow-pressure. Or, 
 to be more accurate, in playing the Piano or Violin we must attend to 
 our tones through the controlled (accurately adjusted) relaxation of our 
 
 28
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 29 
 
 Here then, we have two most definite and tangible facts 
 upon which to keep the student's and artist's mind; and 
 the inevitable corrollary of his thus attending to key-motion 
 through time, is that he will also be compelled to give the 
 closest and most intimate attention to Music itself — to 
 musical Feeling and Shape. Concerning this question of 
 Time-spot, I have very much more to say today, but con- 
 cerning that of Key-resistance, I have so fully shown the 
 way in my "Relaxation Studies" and elsewhere, that I need 
 not enter further into this matter now, except perhaps to 
 point out, that these same "Relaxation Studies" are in- 
 deed, many of them, merely teaching-devices for this very 
 purpose — to teach the student how to attend to the key. 1 
 
 Now as to the question of "Time-spot": if a violinist or Meaning of 
 singer does not give his mind to his work, his instrument "Time- 
 warns him instantly and unmistakably, for his intonation sp0 
 becomes faulty, and that is a result which, usually, annoys 
 him too much to be ignored. 
 
 Now at the Piano, inattention, it is true, may cause us 
 to play actual wrong notes; but besides such mere "wrong 
 notes," a far worse thing happens, for the very moment we 
 allow ourselves to become inattentive as to the precise 
 Time-spot of every note, that moment we do indeed play 
 
 arm- weight, and in singing through the controlled relaxation of our ribs. 
 (See the late John H. Kennedy's "Common Sense and Singing" — real 
 common sense on the subject.) 
 
 1 The most important of these Studies (bearing on this particular mat- 
 ter) are the " Resting" and "Aiming" exercises, "Throw-off," and "Agil- 
 ity" tests; and, most important of all perhaps, the "Rotation" exercises. 
 In fact, it is impossible to play at all, unless the technical ground covered 
 by such "tests" has been mastered to some extent. The extent of such 
 mastery may indeed be said to form the limit of our technical attainments; 
 which signifies, the elimination of all unnecessary exertions, and the accu- 
 rate timing and choice of the required ones.
 
 30 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 "out of tune" in a sense — that is, out of tune as regards 
 time. And this is far less a mere figure of speech than it 
 would appear to be at first sight, since both are vibrational 
 experiences. 1 
 
 As I have before insisted upon, during performance it is 
 really impossible definitely to guide any note, unless we do 
 thus think of its Time-spot : the precise place in Time where 
 the sound is musically due to begin, and where the key's 
 motion is therefore due to finish its act of tone-production. 
 The most striking and most definite thing about a note is 
 the fact of its transition from non-existence to existence — 
 the moment of transition from Silence to Sound; for this 
 is an absolutely definite point of demarcation at the Piano, 
 as definite as the surface (or beginning) of a piece of wood 
 or stone. 2 
 The act of We cannot, therefore, definitely think a note in playing 
 
 thought or unless we thus think the time-place of its beginning — the 
 e ° .° Ueg beginning of the sound. Moreover, we must try to 
 
 a rhythmical realise, that this law has a far deeper significance even than 
 act. this. The fact is, we cannot experience any act of con- 
 
 sciousness, we cannot direct our minds and think about 
 
 Similarity * We all know that a musical sound is the effect produced upon our 
 
 between mind by the regular recurrence of impulses on our ear. What we call 
 
 playing out "Time" in Music is, however, quite a similar experience; the recurrence 
 of time and f pulse-throbs are similar to vibration-throbs, but in the first case the 
 playing out recurrences are enormously slower. Hence, it is useful and suggestive to 
 remember, that "playing out of time" is an evil effect belonging to the 
 same genus as flaying out of tune; it is just as unclean, sordid and dis- 
 heartening, just as unnatural, unbeautiful, and un-godly! 
 
 2 In other words, the only way definitely to guide into existence any 
 note at the Piano is clearly to determine the moment when this transition 
 from Silence to Sound is musically due, and to see to it that we so carefully 
 guide the Piano key-lever that it will finish its work of tone-production 
 at that precise moment — the moment which we have in our mind musi- 
 cally. 
 
 of tune.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 31 
 
 or realise anything definitely, without just such an act of 
 timing — a timing of our consciousness. The act of bring- 
 ing or directing our thought or attention upon anything is 
 therefore a rhythmical process; Thought and Rhythm are 
 inseparable. Again, we see the reason why in the absence 
 of Rhythm there can only be Nothingness — emptiness, 
 non-being! 1 
 
 We must insist, therefore, on the pupil clearly realising " Grip " in 
 that he can only obtain "grip" of what he is doing by perfonnance - 
 means of close attention to this fact, that he must finish each 
 act of tone-production at the very moment his Time-sense 
 impels him to wish each note to begin. Having thus some- 
 thing definite to take hold of mentally, this will enable him 
 to think also of the colour he wishes to give each note, its 
 place in the phrase, its place as part of a whole. 
 
 Now here arises the question, how shall we make a pupil As to time- 
 understand Time and Rhythm, and why do so few seem to fr*" 1111 ^ 
 feel it at all? The fault usually arises either from the entire 
 want of, or fault in, early training in this respect. 
 
 The fact is, no child should ever be allowed to sound a 
 note at the Piano until his Time-sense has been thoroughly 
 aroused. It is the very first thing, and the most supremely 
 important thing to teach. 
 
 Before teaching the note-signs, or even the note-sounds, 
 we must teach attention to Pulse. We must make the 
 
 1 The term "Rhythm" is of course in this work used in its proper and As to the 
 all-embracing sense, its narrowest and its widest application, and including interpreta- 
 bar-rhythm, figure-rhythm, phrase-rhythm — the minute rhythm implied tion of the 
 in the ever-changing sub-divisions of the bar pulses, as well as the huge term 
 rhythmical swing of a whole phrase played as one single pulse in Rubato, ' rhythm, 
 and the still greater Pulse of a real master-piece when this swings on to 
 its climax with unbroken continuity of purpose — a Whole, which, built 
 up of multifarious ideas and logical successions, is yet welded together as 
 we find it only in the works of the really great composers.
 
 32 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 beginner realise that Pulse (the recurrence of time-distances) 
 is a material fact, quite easy to realise if only we attend to 
 it; and he should have considerable facility in the appre- 
 ciation of Pulse and its subdivision before he is allowed to 
 touch the keyboard at all. And when he does so, we must 
 from the first insist on his realising that every note he plays 
 must be accurately fitted into the particular Pulse-scheme 
 chosen by him as the canvas upon which to paint his musical 
 picture — and this, however simple the picture may be. 1 
 Correct idea This brings us to a very important matter: the correct 
 of time and outlook as to what is meant by Time in Music — important 
 indeed, for if this outlook is incorrect, our whole outlook on 
 
 music. f ' m 
 
 Music will necessarily be based on a foundation of sand. 
 
 Now we shall find that although the arts of Music and 
 Painting seem so very different, yet we have here a strong 
 parallelism in the basis of both, inasmuch as both depend 
 upon Progression or Movement. 
 Progression In painting or drawing the movement is upon the canvas, 
 and move- an( j ^his m a d 0UD le sense; for there is, first, an actual move- 
 gous in ment of the painter's brush or pencil in the act of making the 
 music and picture; and secondly, an actual movement again, in viewing 
 parting. the picture — an actual movement of our eyeballs in follow- 
 ing its lines, or at least a suggestion of such movement. 
 
 The origin of 1 That is, the pupil's mind must be brought to notice the phenomenon 
 our sense of Pulse or Beat. This is best done by calling attention to the swing of 
 of pulse. his stride in walking or running; and remember, he had to learn to feel 
 pulse in a measure before he could encompass either of those accomplish- 
 ments! Indeed, I opine, that in our gait, we have the origin of our feeling 
 of pulse in music. We imagine the swing of a walking or running stride; 
 we set one going for every piece we play, and imagining its continuance 
 it thus guides us. How vivid do the Beethoven themes become if we 
 hum them in our rambles through the woods — conceived as so many of 
 these themes doubtless were under a similar impression of fresh air and 
 the accompaniment of a healthy walking stride.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 33 
 
 In Music the distinction is, that the movement is upon 
 a time-surface, as it were — instead of upon a canvas. 
 
 Here then, we have two very close analogies in Music and 
 Painting, unexpected though they may be: (I) This sense 
 of Progression, or Movement, and (II) this necessity of some 
 medium upon which to fix our progressions. 
 
 In Music we choose some particular sequence of beats or 
 pulses, and upon this particular form of extension in space, 
 or Time-spacings, upon this thoroughly tangible time-canvas 
 of Pulse we lay out the progression of our musical picture, 
 whether as composers or players — just as the painter must 
 lay out his work on his canvas. 
 
 It may strike you at first that all this is "a very waste of 
 words" but I assure you we are here face to face with one 
 of the fundamental laws of our art, and the teaching of it. 
 Yes, even the uncultured members of an audience can quite 
 well feel the effect of rhythm, or its absence. When the 
 Rhythm is strong, they are impressed by the fact that the 
 piece is alive, but when the Rhythm is lax, or Time-con- 
 tinuity is broken up, they feel that it is " as dead as a door 
 nail"; and this, although quite unaware of the cause of 
 their comfort or discomfort. Indeed, so strong is this 
 rhythmical need of the public, that when rhythmical grip 
 is lacking in a performer no other attractions offered by 
 him can save the piece. 1 
 
 Here we have indeed one of those fundamental facts which 
 we must drive home to every pupil, even beginners. It is 
 
 1 We also find that our musical ideas of "Time" and "Progression" 
 are closely correlated; since to enable us to determine the precise "time- 
 spot" of any note, we must think of music itself — in its aspect of pro- 
 gression or movement. And, vice versa, attention to musical Progression 
 will also, in its turn, compel our attention to the details of Time and 
 Pulse.
 
 34 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 The pro- 
 
 gressional 
 view of 
 music v. the 
 old segmen- 
 tal view. 
 
 of no use trying to think Music unless you think of pro- 
 gression, that is, Movement towards something or other. 
 
 In fact, this forms the best definition of all Form or Shape 
 or Structure in Music, be it phrase, section, sentence or a 
 complete piece. This idea of Movement is the vitalizing 
 spark which turns mere notes into living music, this sense 
 of Purpose — this sense of progressing somewhere. 1 
 
 It is astounding that until lately none of the Theory- 
 teachers seem to have put this fact into words; although, of 
 course, no real musician has ever felt music apart from an 
 unconscious appreciation of this fact. 2 
 
 Instead of Progression — continuous, purposeful Move- 
 ment — they have tried to explain Music as consisting of 
 chunks or solid segments of accented bars and of unaccented 
 bars, thus giving the mis-impression to the learner, that 
 Music consists of dead, disconnected bits of sound-stone or 
 brick, instead of a living mass, a continuous swing and swirl 
 of Growth. 3 
 
 This idea of motion in Music, continuous Movement, we 
 must make clear to anyone and everyone, even to a child 
 at his very first lesson in Music. 
 
 Having applied this teaching principle for the last twenty 
 years or so, and knowing its electrifying effect on the student, 
 
 1 A phrase, for instance, may therefore in performance be denned as: 
 a growth, or progression of notes towards a cadence, shown by means of 
 Tone and Rubato inflections. 
 
 1 My old pupil, John B. McEwen, has of course adopted this teaching 
 of mine in his admirable "Phrasing"; and now, on going to press with 
 this MS. (October, 1912) I receive a copy of a new work of his just issued, 
 "The Thought in Music," a work full of original thought and research 
 wherein he develops this idea still further and with a masterly hand. 
 
 1 In the "Coda" of this work (Section IV) it will be seen why this pro- 
 gressional view of Music-structure is so vitalizing to the student, artist, 
 and teacher.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 35 
 
 I tried to call attention to this necessity in the final chapter 
 of my "First Principles," page 126; but most people seem 
 to pass this passage by, without noting that it bears indeed 
 on all they do every day as teachers. This is what I mean 
 by " scanning" the music before trying to play it; the 
 rhythmical shape or progress of even the simplest phrase 
 must be understood, if we are to have any chance of playing 
 it correctly, and if our performance is not to drivel into mere 
 musical — or unmusical — babbling. 1 
 
 1 This doctrine of Progression or Movement, which I insist upon as the The differ- 
 
 basis of all Shape in performance, is indeed a most important teaching ence be- 
 
 principle — one might say perhaps the most important of all. The old tween the 
 
 way of teaching Form, Form-analysis, Structure, and Interpretation with °| d se S menta * 
 
 its false ideas of dead, disconnected segments of music (blocks or chunks) x ew ° 
 
 . structure 
 was perfectly useless, musically, to the student. It not only failed to give . .. ' 
 
 him any real insight into what constitutes Music in the act of perform- j^ oeress i ona i 
 ance, but it failed to draw his attention to Movement as the basis, of all y£ ew f mus i. 
 Music, and it was therefore positively deadening from a performing point cal structure, 
 of view. The progressional teaching of Musical Structure is on the con- 
 trary at once vital, helpful, and interesting to every Music-student, what- 
 ever his status, and whatever his branch of study. In my own personal 
 teaching and lectures, I had for many years enforced this principle of 
 "towardness" as the basis of all Music-shape — the basis of all music- 
 teaching, but the idea was not made public in printed form until the issue 
 of my "Act of Touch" (page 42) in 1903, and my "First Principles" in 
 1905 — see page 126, where the practical application of this study is sum- 
 marized. In the present lectures (written in 1909) it was of course devel- 
 oped and amplified still further. It is a source of great gratification 
 to me to find that it is now being generally accepted, at least by the more 
 up-to-date Theory teachers of this country. For instance, in a recently 
 issued work (1912) on "Phrasing and Form" I find the following — prac- 
 tically a quotation from a synopsis of this present lecture published in 
 "The Music Student" of April, 1911, and of which Synopsis a reprint is 
 given in the Appendix to this work: "The next matter to which attention 
 "must be directed in order to arrive at any intelligent basis for our phrasing 
 "is the fact that everything in music must be considered in the light of 
 "progression, or movement towards some more or less clearly defined desti-
 
 36 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Some ex- 
 amples of 
 
 the pro - 
 gressional 
 view of 
 structure. 
 
 When we teach a baby to say "Mamma" and "Papa" we 
 do try at the earliest possible moment to make him realize 
 that "Papa" and "Mamma" do mean something definite; 
 in fact that these sounds stand for two very definite and 
 important people! Nevertheless, in teaching the child to 
 talk through the Piano, the inconceivable folly is com- 
 mitted of allowing him to babble — to make unmeaning 
 noises; and this, often until he is an adult, without any 
 attempt to make him realize that Music consists of words 
 and phrases — connected sound-movements — like any other 
 language! 1 
 
 As this idea of looking for Shape in the sense of progression 
 — or "scanning" — may be unfamiliar to many of you, let 
 me give you some examples of what I mean. Let us take 
 the first half of "God Save the King," as one of the simplest 
 of tunes. It consists as you know of three bits, each bit 
 with its little climax, and the third "bit" forming a capping 
 climax to the other two. That is, the first bar progresses to 
 
 "nation. This is true whether we have in our thoughts the gradual but 
 "inevitable working up of some extended passage towards a strong emo- 
 tional climax, or of the no less essential 'trend' of some figure of a few 
 " notes towards the point where it finds its own completion," etc. Further 
 quotations occur on subsequent pages; and finally, it is gratifying to find 
 in the preface of his work, that the author gracefully acknowledges the 
 source of these teachings, and that he has presented them with delightful 
 conciseness. 
 
 1 The root of the trouble is that children are taught Music the wrong 
 side up. The usual false beginning is to try to make them associate paper 
 signs with keyboard-places, instead of beginning, as one should do, by 
 trying to make them recognize actual sounds, actual Time, and Music- 
 shapes, — matters which are mostly left to dawn upon them later on, 
 as an afterthought! Mrs. Spencer Curwen, in her admirable "Child 
 Pianist," started the crusade against this topsy-turvydom, and her views 
 are more and more rapidly gaining ground, as we see by the various 
 imitators who have adopted her ideas.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 37 
 
 the second (at a), the third bar to the fourth (at b), and the 
 fifth bar to the sixth (at c), thus: 
 
 Example 5. 
 
 We find a similar structure, and it is a very usual one, 
 (two short, or less accented progressions capped by a longer 
 or stronger one) in the opening of Schumann's first Novel- 
 lette. From the barring of this (totally incorrect as it 
 
 is) one would imagine, that the piece was meant to sound all 
 upside-down musically, thus: 
 
 Example 6a. 
 
 Schumann's Novellette played with accentuation as barred in the 
 original. 
 
 But of course he did not mean this; therefore here, as so 
 often elsewhere, we must totally disregard the written bar- 
 lines (or written accentuation) and must be led by our own 
 musical sense; and we then find that this opening phrase 
 consists of three progressions, each moving towards its little 
 climax or crisis, and the three together moving or progressing 
 
 301636
 
 38 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 towards a more important climax — that of the complete 
 phrase. Thus : 
 
 Example 66. 
 
 Schumann's Novellette, played with correct accentuation, requiring 
 the bar-places as denoted by the dotted lines at b (and not at a as in the 
 original). 1 
 
 Theincor- * Composers, in the past (and many in the present), do not seem to 
 
 rect notation have realized the simple fact, that the only possible real use of a bar-line 
 of bar-hnes. j s ^ Q m dicate to the performer where the pulse-swing should be. 
 
 To prevent monotony, a musical composer will often purposely alter 
 the straight course of the accentuation, and an unmusical or inexpert 
 composer still more frequently does so from the want of fine feeling, or 
 from ignorance; but both types seem equally to be obsessed with the idea 
 that if bar-lines are but written down in unbroken sequence (so as to look 
 symmetrical) this will ensure symmetry, or that this will throw dust in 
 the eyes of people, and make them believe the work to be symmetrically 
 perfect — like wallpaper! As a matter of fact, no musician does want 
 wall-paper patterns instead of music, nor does the placing of the bar-fines 
 where they are not wanted by the sense of the music, alter the accentuation 
 one jot. The only result such obsession, carelessness or ignorance can 
 have, is to puzzle the performer, and to ensure that unmusical players 
 will perform the piece musically "upside-down." Even many of the 
 great Masters have sinned sorely in this matter of the true notation of 
 their works, Schumann and Brahms perhaps most of all; whereas Beetho- 
 ven's notation is perhaps most free from this blemish. In the old poly- 
 phonic writing there was of course the difficulty, that bar-lines would have 
 been required separately for each part, certainly a chaos when four or
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 39 
 
 As one more example of this structure, let me quote from 
 the slow movement of Beethoven's Sonata, Op. 2, No. 2, — 
 thus: 
 Example 7. 
 
 Or pictorially, it might be shown thus: 
 Example 8. 
 
 All this shows us clearly how the idea of phrase, or sen- 
 tence, implies progression towards some more or less definite 
 point; by this sense of progression, of his being led some- 
 where, the listener's attention is attracted, and is retained. 1 
 
 more parts were written on two staves only; but why in such a case put 
 bar-lines at all, where they can only be mis-leading? 
 
 As one more glaring instance of such wrong barring see Chopin's Prelude 
 in C minor — the true bar-line occurs two pulses later than the written 
 bar-line. But such cases are innumerable. 
 
 1 As to the word "phrase": it really does not signify whether we con- Astonomen- 
 eider the musical unit to be a "motif," "idea," "section," "phrase," or clatureof 
 "sentence." All this is purely a matter of mere nomenclature, music- structural 
 terminology — a point of exceedingly small importance artistically. What d 6 **" 8 * 
 does matter is, that bar-lines should be recognised as denoting the general 
 swing of the accentuation, and that Music-units (or the more complex 
 "phrase" or "sentence" organisms) are always in themselves again 
 progressions towards definite landmarks.
 
 40 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Harmonic 
 movement 
 necessary. 
 
 We shall moreover find that this sense of going somewhere, 
 implies that there must be a succession of harmonies (actual 
 or implied) either forming or leading up to some form of 
 harmonic cadence; we must have this, if there is to be any 
 definite idea of Shape in what we accept as Music. 
 
 Let us now try to transcribe "God Save the King" so 
 that it shall suggest (as far as possible) only one harmony; 
 hear how this impoverishes the tune, thus: 
 Example 9. 
 
 Or better still, let us try to compose a theme solely on one 
 harmony, and we shall find that because it goes nowhere 
 harmonically, nothing seems to happen. (See Exp. 10a.) 
 Example 10a. 
 
 Al w~ ™« T.AM. 
 
 Whereas, if we now alter the same theme slightly, so 
 that it may take harmonies, you will see how much more 
 clear and interesting it at once becomes:
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 41 
 
 Example 106. 
 
 You see now, that the term "harmonic progression" is 
 really a most apt and suggestive term; for you see, that a 
 mere succession of un-related or un-progressive sounds or 
 chords is quite meaningless. To have any meaning, musi- 
 cally, we require a progress of chords, intelligently leading 
 towards definite landmarks, the landmarks in key and 
 rhythm which we call "cadences." 1 
 
 1 Incidentally, you should here note, that the very process itself of The process 
 learning, or assimilating any knowledge, is of this very same nature — it ofmemoriz- 
 is but a form of progression. ™* a * so 
 
 Isolated facts mean nothing; to memorize anything the only possible de P enas 
 process is to bring the something you wish to memorize into some form of ^ Bt f nn 
 ■progression, or sequence of thought. That is, you must chain the something 
 you want to fix in your mind to something already stored there; you must 
 make use of something you already know, so that it shall suggest (as a 
 mental progression) the something fresh which you want to fix in your 
 memory. 
 
 In a word, you must build-on to the knowledge you already do possess 
 further progressions of "onwardness," mentally. 
 
 In the case of Musical-memory, each note, each chord you play, must 
 
 gression.
 
 42 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Deliberate 
 indefinite- 
 ness in 
 composition. 
 
 How to apply 
 one's mem- 
 ory. 
 
 Memory 
 
 failure. 
 
 True, in some few isolated instances, the composer has 
 purposely written unclear, shapeless, jelly-like music, and 
 not inadvertently, as only too often happens. Wagner, for 
 
 be made to suggest the next note or chord, etc. And unless you have 
 made a perfect chain of such suggestion-connections, you do not remember 
 and cannot remember any piece. In short, remembrance of a piece means 
 that the suggestion-channels are all in good working order. 
 
 Vice versa, successfully to make use of the memory-connections thus 
 stored in your mind, you must during performance allow the thing pres- 
 ent and realised at the moment to suggest (as an automatic or reflex action) 
 the thing which is to follow on. That is, you must allow the memory of 
 each succeeding portion of the text to be automatically revived by the 
 rhythmic swing of the portion of the passage you are playing at the 
 moment, its melodic and harmonic progression, its mood, and each note 
 of it in succession. 
 
 In short, you must allow .your memory-stream to flow in the channels 
 or courses you have previously made for it, and the only way to prompt 
 these memory-connections into action is by keeping your mind vividly 
 present on the actual thing you are doing at the moment; and you cannot 
 help your memory by trying to recall the thing ahead; since this will 
 disconnect or destroy the sequential action of your mind. 
 
 The moment you begin to doubt your memory's capacity to "follow 
 on," that moment you will hinder, if not completely stop its action. // 
 you commit the fatal blunder of trying to recall the next note, this will at 
 once paralyse the natural and safe action of the previously-made mem- 
 ory-channels; you will thus stop their flow, and your mind will seem to 
 be a blank as to what comes next. Here it is not a case of your 
 
 memory being incomplete or unreliable, but simply that you are prevent- 
 ing its natural action. Either the mental successions of "onwardness" 
 are there, or they are not. If they are complete they will act with cer- 
 tainty if you let them do so; whereas, if they are not properly fixed in 
 your mind, then no attempt to recall the next note will help you one 
 jot. 
 
 In other words, if these mental connections or chains have been prop- 
 erly linked-up, you can only stimulate them into action by bringing your 
 attention vividly upon the point you are engaged upon at each moment 
 during the performance of the piece — so that it may suggest what fol- 
 lows. Whereas you will inevitably paralyse this natural sequential action,
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 43 
 
 instance, has used this device in the Introduction to "Das 
 Rheingold" so as to give the vague, impalpable effect of 
 
 if you try to wrench your mind on to something ahead, — something 
 not yet actually due in performance. 
 
 On the other hand, if these progression-suggestions are not firmly 
 fixed in your mind, you must take steps to strengthen them, on the 
 lines above indicated. 
 
 Here it is well to realise, that musical memory is a complex phenome- The various 
 non. We must take care to use all the available memory channels; and kinds of 
 they can only be rendered available by the application of close analysis, nmsical 
 consciously or unconsciously given. These components are on the one memoI 7» 
 side purely musical, but on the other side are technical, instrumental 
 and muscular, or gymnastical. Hence, we must analyse and thus 
 
 memorise the musical progressions of the piece, its rhythmical, melodic 
 and harmonic progressions, and above all things the inflections of its 
 moods or poetic curves. But besides this strictly-speaking musical 
 memorising of the piece we must also impress our eye-memory with the 
 written page, and with the lie of the music on the keyboard — as key- 
 board progressions. 
 
 Added to all this, we must also apply our muscular-memory — we Theneces- 
 must fix in our mind the physical sensations of its note-successions upon sit Y of mus- 
 the keyboard, and the technical methods of their execution. cularmemory 
 
 And it is just here where all the trouble begins: on the one hand, it an 
 is impossible to give one's mind to the musical interpretation of a quick an ^ e 
 movement, unless we do know the notes of it so well that we need no 
 longer question what they are. To succeed in this, however, for a quick 
 movement, we must have repeated its note-successions often enough to 
 impress them thoroughly upon our automatic-centres, so that our fingers 
 may be able to find the road automatically. Now the imminent danger 
 always is, that in trying to acquire this necessary part of the performance- 
 memory, we may totally destroy all our musical control over the 
 piece. It is this same automatic necessity which so often leads 
 
 players astray into the acquisition of purely automatic and mechanical 
 methods of practice. 
 
 The only remedy and preventive is, constantly to insist on musical Silent 
 attention; and often to practice without touching the keyboard at all. With practice, 
 our fingers upon the keyboard, it is only too easy to forget to direct 
 them; hence the great value of silent practice, with every note-inflection
 
 44 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 water. It is all on the chord of E flat, you remember the 
 rising flowing figure: 
 
 Example 11. 
 
 He wishes to convey the idea of a mass of water, the 
 Rhine, not seen as a definite sheet of water, but seen from 
 within the water, from inside the river; and he could not 
 have chosen a happier way of making the musical suggestion 
 than by the means used. It has no surface, no bottom, 
 and after ten minutes of it or so, you feel yourself floating 
 in the swirl of the river — with the Rhinemaidens — and 
 
 imagined, and its impossibility of allowing the attention to flag, even for 
 a moment. And when actual keyboard-practice is imperative during the 
 process of acquiring the necessary automaticity in respect to the key- 
 board successions of the notes, even in this case never to allow our 
 musical purpose to waver, never to allow our automatic, or gymnastic 
 faculty to gain the upper hand and to fulfil its sway without our con- 
 stantly directing and controlling it musically by our mind-centres — our 
 will-power, our musical imagination and judgement. 
 To prevent To ensure such control we must constantly re-analyse the rhythmical 
 
 "slithering." constituents, or rhythmical landmarks of every agility-piece, however 
 old an acquaintance it may be. The moment we thus insist on compelling 
 the automatic centres to fit their work to our rhythmical vision, that 
 moment the piece no longer seems to "run away," but is instead per- 
 fectly guided by our musical conscience. Hence, also in performance, we 
 must always insist on realising the time-place, for each note; and our 
 gymnastic faculty thus becomes our obedient servant and not our master. 
 See page 29 on "Time-spot," page 30 "The act of consciousness," and 
 page 53 "Wrong bass notes," also page 122 "On the memorising of 
 fingering." Also see Additional Note: "The cause of stammering un- 
 musically," page 59.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 45 
 
 cannot think of them as stage people, swinging about on 
 iron cages! 1 
 
 This law of Progression in Music applies not only in the 
 case of the phrase or the sentence, but applies universally, 
 as much to the smallest details of the music as to its largest 
 swings of form. As I have already pointed out in " First 
 Principles" and elsewhere, 2 no one (not even a child- 
 beginner) should be allowed to sound any succession of 
 sounds, however simple, without being made clearly to 
 understand that there must be some shape or progression 
 even in such primitive attempts; thus: 
 
 Not 
 
 Example 12. 
 
 but 
 
 — therefore in fact suggesting harmonies; for instance: 
 
 Example 13. 
 
 1 Someone has asked, "What should we call this passage, there is no 
 'phrase' really in question, there being no harmonic progression?" I 
 should define the figure as an idea-unit which, purposely, is not allowed 
 to become definite enough to form a "phrase." 
 
 Purposely, Wagner has left the Prelude ambiguous, sheer invertebrate 
 musical protoplasm, without any higher organization of definite shape; 
 its swelling, musically jelly-like indefinite mass thus accomplishes its 
 purpose dramatically and scenically. 
 
 * "First Principles of Pianoforte Playing," page 126, and in "The 
 Child's First Steps."
 
 46 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Inaccuracy 
 in the sub- 
 divisions of 
 the pulses 
 also owing 
 to non-per- 
 ception of 
 the element 
 of pro- 
 gression. 
 
 You must next realize that it is from non-perception of this 
 very point (non-preception of the fact of progression) that 
 results all the rhythmical "sloppiness" so lamentably ram- 
 pant; I refer to that unclear playing of passage-work, unclear 
 execution of minute contrasts in the lengths of the notes, 
 details seemingly so insignificant, yet upon the accuracy of 
 which depends so much of our enjoyment of the music. 1 
 
 How often indeed do we find the inexperienced (or bad) 
 teacher's pupils playing triplets or quadruplets of notes all 
 clipped together, thus: 
 
 Example 14. 
 
 Do you see the cause of this fault? 
 
 It is clear enough, when you realise that you cannot think 
 music (that is rhythm) unless you always definitely think of 
 its Progression — we are constantly compelled to come back 
 to this point! 
 
 To correct a fault of this nature, all you have to do then, 
 is to make the pupil realise that the triplet or quadruplet, 
 etc., does not finish with the beginning of the sound of its 
 last note, but, on the contrary, that the group lasts up to 
 the beginning of the first note of the next group — the next 
 pulse-throb. Thus: 
 
 Example 15. 
 
 1 In playing, the terms clearness and cleanliness refer to two distinct 
 things; "clearness" refers to rhythmical accuracy, while "cleanliness" 
 refers to the sounding of the right notes — without any "splitting" of 
 them, etc.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 47 
 
 You must show him, that time in music always implies 
 the dividing up of Space; and in this particular concrete 
 case, that it means movement in equal divisions of time 
 always up to the next following pulse-throb. 
 
 In short, you must always think of the beat ahead, must 
 always lead up to it, divide up towards it, if the "inside" 
 notes of passages are to be clear to the listener. 
 
 And this rule applies not only when you have the "inside" 
 notes (or in-between notes) evenly distributed between the 
 pulses, but also when you have more complex rhythmical 
 figures providing the in-between sounds, such as: 
 Example 16. 
 
 Moreover, it applies when you have figures ending with Progression 
 unaccented notes; and it applies still with equal force even t0 ^^ s 
 when you have a whole phrase or sentence moving towards climax of 
 its rhythmical climax with a decrease of tone. 1 phrase in 
 
 Let me give you an example of both points : * pite of M 
 
 qc crescendo 
 
 In Chopin's first Prelude we have a figure with such 
 unaccented ending: 
 Example 17. 
 
 rubat o 
 
 1 We shall see later on, that Rubato must here come to our aid to make 
 clear the onward striving of the phrase.
 
 48 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 rit. 
 
 In the second subject, from Beethoven's Sonata Op. 22, we 
 have the second point illustrated, as well as the first: 1 
 
 Example 18. 
 
 tejnf>o 
 
 1 At first sight this Beethoven excerpt, from Op. 22, almost looks like 
 a case of misplaced bar-lines; but it is quite correctly barred, for the sfs 
 are here true syncopations, which are felt to go against the true rhythmical 
 pulse, and which last must persist in spite of these sfs. The bar-line (or 
 true pulse) may be shown by making the notes on it slightly staccato, 
 as I have suggested. The whole tune grows towards the chord of F at 
 (a). This is made clear by employing a very slight nibato during the last 
 four bars — very slight indeed, so slight as to be unnoticeable even to 
 pedantically-inclined ears.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 49 
 
 Again, in Beethoven's 32 Variations in C minor, we have 
 such figure with unaccented ending in the octave Varia- 
 tion: 
 
 Example 19. 
 
 You see, in all these cases, the figure falls away as it were 
 at its end, before reaching the next pulse. Nevertheless, 
 unless we keep that next pulse accurately in view — unless 
 we measure the places for the earlier notes as striving on 
 towards such pulse — we cannot accurately place them in 
 Time, and our performance will hence be inevitably ruined, 
 musically. 
 
 Again, in passages divided (or broken) between the hands, Passages 
 such as octave-passages, etc., how often does the pupil spoil 
 
 broken be- 
 tween hands 
 
 these rhythmically, by clipping together the two successive _ correct 
 hands. thinking of 
 
 The remedy is simple enough, immediate, and again of them * 
 the same nature. Simply insist on the successive notes of 
 the passage being thought of as one continuous flow of (or 
 succession in) rhythm; it must not be thought as consisting 
 of two hands, each doing something different, and therefore 
 rhythmically disconnected. 
 
 For instance, the semiquaver octaves of the coda of 
 Mendelssohn's Rondo, Op. 14, are usually clipped thus:
 
 50 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Example 20a. 
 
 (Incorrectly played.) 
 
 Do not allow yourself to think of the two hands, as each 
 one doing something independently, but insist on thinking 
 such a passage as continuous, rhythmically; think of it in 
 groups of six semiquavers, each one leading up to the begin- 
 ning of each next group, and the supposed "difficulty" at 
 once vanishes forever. Thus: 
 
 Example 206. 
 
 (Correctly played.) 
 
 The rule of course also holds good when the passage is of 
 single notes in each hand, instead of octaves; also, when 
 the alternations between the hands occur after several notes 
 have been taken successively by each hand — when the 
 alternations between the hands occur after whole groups of 
 notes.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 51 
 
 We must, however, bear in mind that such rhythmical Broken 
 faults do often and quite easily arise in such alternating J^^J' 
 passages from quite another cause, and that is from faulty errors . 
 Key-treatment — faulty Touch-habits. 
 
 In fact, such passages are often thus made "difficult," 
 simply by disobedience to "the Law of Resting," which I 
 have so strongly insisted upon in my various works on 
 Touch and Technique. 1 
 
 Indeed, the law of continuously resting upon the keyboard 
 during the extent of each phrase may never be disregarded 
 with impunity, not even in the case of "divided" passages. 
 The point to remember therefore, is, that in all such passages 
 (passages divided between the hands) the keyboard must 
 never be quitted by one hand until the next hand has a finger 
 on its own first note; the passage is thus linked-up con- 
 tinuously in a chain of "Restings," alternately taken up by 
 the successive hands, and without break during the course 
 of each phrase. For instance: 
 
 Not thus: 
 
 Example 21a. 
 
 Allegro con faoco 
 
 Refer also to page 53 re "Wrong Bass-notes," etc.
 
 52 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 But thus: 
 
 Example 21b. 
 
 (Prelude and Fugue, Mendelssohn.) 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 ft * * *- 
 
 i p j pj 
 
 l\| , <«"f r ii- , 
 
 
 I 
 
 las' 
 
 
 
 etc. ; 
 
 (The lecturer here showed how each hand in succession carries on the 
 continuity of contact with the keyboard — the hands rising off the keyboard, 
 but each one remaining in contact with it until the next has found its note.) 
 
 The following two excerpts are also suggestive : 
 
 (From Concert-piece in A minor, Tobias Matthay. 1 ) 
 Example 22. 
 
 Presto 
 
 By permission of Messrs. Ricordi.
 
 NATURE OP MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 53 
 
 (From Coda of Rhapsody, No. II, Liszt. 1 ) 
 Example 23. 
 
 Prestissimo 
 
 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 • 
 
 ■ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■f- 
 
 ft 
 
 
 
 qUEfl 
 
 
 • 
 
 - % 
 
 r • 
 
 *" f 
 
 
 \ 
 
 r 
 
 w — : 
 
 T ' 
 
 r 
 
 : r : 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 etc 
 
 rib — * 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 a — 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 p=j 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 r* 
 
 
 
 
 .M 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 -4 
 
 
 
 
 ~4 
 
 L 
 
 -4 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 •J- 
 
 
 ^-m 
 
 
 oilier notes. 
 
 It is of no use trying to correct the playing of wrong notes Wrong bass 
 or "split" notes merely by telling the pupil to be "more notes — and 
 careful" — this may happen to have some result, or it may 
 simply make the pupil more nervous. The only true cor- 
 rection is always to point out the cause of the fault. In case 
 of passages lying under the fingers, or passages divided 
 between the hands, this cause may be found in neglect of 
 that law of "Resting" on the keyboard which should render 
 all such passages really continuous, physically on the key- 
 board. 2 But in the case of skips and bass notes an addi- 
 tional cause of error may occur: 
 
 Such wrong notes often arise from a non-remembrance of 
 what should be the right notes, at the moment. The fault 
 here arises from a totally wrong musical outlook. First of 
 
 1 In this last illustration both hands should remain in contact with the 
 keyboard, at least so long as the passage remains pianissimo. 
 * Refer to page 51.
 
 54 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Progression 
 in its larger 
 swings. 
 
 A warning 
 against 
 purely 
 mechanical 
 " scanning." 
 
 all, note that you should always think the music from the 
 bass upwards, and not from the treble downwards, and 
 secondly, note that you cannot recall a mentally-detached 
 bass note any more than you can recall or remember any 
 other fact or circumstance, if you detach it from its 
 memory-suggestions. The only true correction of such 
 bass-note guessing (and failing) is therefore to insist on 
 the musical-succession of the basses being always noticed 
 and noted. Here again, as everywhere else, you see the 
 fact of progression faces us; here it is the progression of 
 each sound from and to its neighboring one which must 
 be noted, and thus fixed in the memory — the only way in 
 which any sounds can be memorized musically. The basses, 
 in playing, must therefore be thought as such successions, 
 and not as a wild "grabbing" into unknown space (down- 
 wards from the melody) — in any case a proceeding totally 
 against all laws of Key-treatment! (Refer to pp. 41-44, 
 " On Memorizing.") 
 
 We have now seen how the idea of progression will help 
 us to understand the nature of Phrasing — the very life of 
 music; and how we cannot accurately "place" even the 
 inside notes of a Pulse (i. e., the notes between two pulse- 
 throbs) unless we constantly insist upon the keen realisation 
 of this element of "towardness" or "onwardness" (as one 
 may aptly term it) and further, that it still applies when 
 figures and phrases have unaccented endings. 1 
 
 1 In attempting thus to "scan" or analyse the structure of the Music 
 one must, however, take care not to fall into the error of doing this 
 mechanically — solely by rule. So far from doing this, one must always 
 allow one's judgement to be swayed by the feeling to be conveyed — else 
 the result may after all be totally unmusical. 
 
 For instance, the rule is, that in a full close the tonic chord falls on the 
 more accented portion of the bar. It is a rule with many exceptions, 
 but it has led certain one-sided musicians totally to mis-scan Music; for
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 55 
 
 But not only must one think "towards" pulse, and 
 towards phrase-climax, one must also think towards the 
 greater crisis-points of the larger Shape-outlines, for the 
 same law applies with equal rigor in the performance of 
 the larger ideas of Shape and Form. Continuity in per- 
 formance (and in composition) still depends on the same 
 principle, carried out however on a larger scale. That is, 
 we must always have a continuous travelling towards well- 
 noted musical land-marks, and the proportions of the 
 smaller details of movement must nevertheless, all the time, 
 be strictly subservient to those larger outlines, themselves 
 wrought by this constant principle of progression. 
 
 instance, I have seen the Scherzo of Beethoven's Sonata, Op. 28, made to 
 consist of four-bar phrases with the acceDt on the last bar, the tonic 
 chord! See Exp. 24, at b' 
 Example 24. 
 
 J. 
 
 'a," correctly scanned rhythm. 
 c b," incorrectly scanned rhythm. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the true accentuation here lies just the opposite 
 way — the dominant in the cadence each time carrying the accent, see " a." 
 It is this very "contrariness" of its harmonies which forms the basis of 
 the fun and humor of the movement. The proof of the correctness of 
 this scanning lies in the last octave of the piece, for this is the long deferred 
 resolution of the preceding cadences (so comically against-the-grain) it is 
 the solution of the rhythmical riddle, since this octave cannot be con- 
 strued as a syncopation. Whereas it would have to be so considered in 
 the fallacious reading alluded to.
 
 56 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Indeed, in a really largely laid-out movement, such as 
 
 we find with Beethoven, or with Tschaikovsky, we must 
 
 often be content almost to gloss-over quite interesting points 
 
 of expression-detail, so that we may not risk blurring the 
 
 clearness of the large designs of these masters. 1 
 
 To keep the Now, success in this respect (to keep the outlines clear) 
 
 whole in view j n fa e en( j resolves itself purely into a question of — 
 
 of memory. Memory. Whether we are laying out a large movement, 
 
 or a small one, it is absolutely essential that we should 
 
 vividly remember the exact proportion of musical importance 
 
 attaching to each of its component sections and climaxes, to 
 
 its variously contrasting subjects, sentences, phrases, ideas, 
 
 down to the actual importance of each note employed. 
 
 Only by such perfect memory of all its constituents can we 
 hope to produce a musical picture perfect in its perspective, 
 perfect in its outlines — perfect as a Whole. 2 
 
 1 Certainly, in a measure, the same care is required in works of smaller 
 
 calibre, although it is easier to keep Outline in view in a short movement. 
 
 The process of giving due proportion to the various sections of a large 
 
 design and to the details of a small movement does however not really 
 
 differ in principle from the process of giving a single phrase correctly. 
 
 Thinking of * In "thinking of the whole" this must not be misunderstood to mean 
 
 the "whole" that one should be aware of the whole piece all the time — at one time — 
 
 expounded, that is absurd and impossible. Again, when we realize that we "must 
 
 think of every note," this does not mean that we must think of all the notes 
 
 of the whole, all at one time — that is equally absurd. 
 
 What all this means is, that in thinking of each note as we come to it, we 
 may recognise and remember what its importance is relatively to the 
 picture as a Whole; we must remember the proportionate "value" of 
 each phrase, each bar, each note at the moment we are engaged in repro- 
 ducing it, and feeling it. In other words, we must have an accurate 
 memory of the "value" of each note relatively to the whole — from having 
 recognised what is required of each note-detail to build up that Whole 
 successfully; exactly as we must recognise what value to giye to each 
 blob of color in painting a picture, if the result is to be harmonious;
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 57 
 
 This kind of memory is, indeed, the hardest task of the 
 player — and I think it really is harder in our art than in 
 any other. 
 
 But although this is the most difficult thing to learn — 
 this necessity of constantly keeping in mind the Whole — the 
 teacher nevertheless must unremittingly insist on the pupil 
 attempting this task, from his veriest beginnings in the 
 simplest music. For this attitude is the only correct one 
 in Performance, just as it is also the only correct one in 
 Composition, in Painting, Sculpture and in fact in all the 
 arts. It is an attitude obviously in total antagonism to 
 that "doing of details for their own sake" which I have 
 already animadverted upon. 
 
 Thus we come back to the old truism — that we must 
 never allow ourselves to apply the Means of expression for 
 their own sake, but always for the sake of expressing some- 
 thing seen or felt .... not Doing for the sake of Doing, 
 but always Doing only for the sake of something beautiful 
 which we are perceiving at that moment. 1 
 
 and this recognition of the constituent values can only be derived from 
 an accurate memory of the Whole of these constituents, each one, as we 
 come to it. 
 
 1 Discussion of this necessity of attending to Shape, whether in play- Perception 
 ing or composing — and incidentally also when we are listening — here °* a new 
 tempts me to a rather wide digression. We all know, or should know, composition, 
 how extremely difficult it is for us to take in a new musical work, how 
 we must hear it more than once before we can really see it — indeed, must 
 hear it many times before we can really perceive its sense, especially if it 
 is a work of any serious musical import. 
 
 Now we shall find, that really to perceive a new work at one hearing is 
 not at all a matter of difficulty, but is one of sheer impossibility — sheer 
 physical and psychical impossibility. The ground we have just gone 
 over yields us the explanation of this fact. 
 
 In viewing a picture which is new to us, we cannot realize what it 
 means until we perceive the relationships of its various parts; we cannot
 
 58 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 perceive its general shape, nor the meaning of its details, except by com- 
 paring its various portions or constituents. 
 
 Necessarily, this implies that our eyes must run over its various out- 
 lines again and again, until the rapidly gained memory of these details 
 thus enables us to form a conception of the Whole. 
 
 In comparison with this process of perception, how extreme is the 
 disadvantage under which a new musical work is compelled to make its 
 first appeal to the public ear! Without our knowing what is going to 
 happen, the musical picture is unrolled before our mind at one single 
 glance! It is gradually unrolled and obscured again, beginning at one 
 corner and finishing at the other extreme corner. 
 
 Now, if it be a good composition, it is so on condition that the first bar 
 (and every subsequent bar) is in perfect relationship to every other bar of 
 the piece — even those bars as yet unheard. But as we cannot perceive 
 these relationships at a first hearing, we cannot possibly realise the mean- 
 ing of the major portion of the piece, however quick our perceptions, since 
 we cannot have any notion what the unheard portions are going to be 
 until they have actually been presented at least once to our ears. That is, 
 we cannot possibly perceive the various relationships of the details of 
 Shape and Progression of a piece until we have had the opportunity of 
 at least once hearing all and every part of it, seeing that the earlier portions 
 can only derive their true significance from the balance given them by 
 the later portions. 
 
 Here we clearly see why it is that a new musical work, even of the 
 highest merit — or because of that — takes so long before it is accepted. 
 In the case of lengthy works, there is no remedy available; it is not 
 practicable to repeat a "Gotterdammerung" several times in one evening, 
 even were a hearer capable of enjoying the process, and so one must trust 
 to the audience taking the trouble to study such huge works before trying 
 to appreciate an actual "first performance." 
 
 But in the case of short instrumental or vocal works of serious content, 
 given for the first time in public, I do seriously put forward and plead 
 for the adoption of the custom of an immediate repetition of them; 
 such works should be performed at least twice in immediate succession. 
 This would give worthy new music a far better chance of being accepted 
 forthwith. 
 
 The old masters unconsciously felt this, when, in their Sonata move- 
 ments, they insisted on repeating all the subject-matter, before proceeding 
 to its amplification.
 
 NATURE OF MUSICAL ATTENTION AND MUSICAL SHAPE 59 
 
 A musical work of serious import does not consist of a mere succession 
 of surprise-shocks to the musical ear, although there is also a demand and 
 place (happily limited) for such form of nerve-excitement or sensation- 
 mongery in music. The real backbone of any musical work, deserving 
 the name of composition, is (and ever will be) its Shapeliness, its archi- 
 tecture, its emotional and rhythmical continuity and strength; and this 
 element must necessarily largely remain hidden from us, when, at a first 
 performance, we are compelled to go forward step by step in the dark — 
 not having traversed the ground previously with our musical eyes. 
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTE 
 
 Much bad playing, stumbling and stuttering, often arises merely The cause of 
 from a non-realisation of the fact that all memorising, whatever its nature, stammering 
 can only be achieved by impressing upon our mind the requisite and unmusically. 
 correct progressions, sequences, continuities, or chains of succession of 
 the music in all its details. 
 
 The teacher must therefore never allow a pupil to try to "correct" a 
 fault, whether slip of the finger, wrong note, wrong time, tone or duration, 
 by his playing the right effect after the wrong one. 
 
 It must be made plain that so far from being a correction, such pro- 
 ceeding is indeed wn-practice. By playing the right note in succession 
 after the wrong one we tend to impress a totally wrong succession upon 
 our minds, and shall therefore risk repeating the blunder and its sup- 
 posed correction the very next time we play the passage; and if we re- 
 peat it we shall be a good way on towards ensuring a stumble or stutter 
 at that place. 
 
 The only true correction is to substitute the correct succession of sounds 
 — to go back and move across the damaged place while carefully omitting 
 the hiatus.
 
 SECTION III 
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 Tempo-con- One cause of the failure of the inexperienced to keep in 
 tinuity, why yj ew ^he whole of a piece (while trying to be careful of its 
 nece *• a^y • details) lies in their non-realization of the fact already in- 
 sisted upon: that there must always be continuity in the 
 tempo if the course of the piece is to remain unbroken. 
 
 Remember, every time you change the tempo, your listener 
 has to start afresh with you, and has to readjust himself to 
 the new tempo. This engenders a complete disorganization 
 of the piece, if it is a continuous composition; and if this 
 varying of the tempo is persisted in, not only does it lead 
 to discomfort, but to positive irritation, although the listener 
 may remain unaware of the actual cause of his troubles. 
 
 A simple cure in this case is to make your pupil walk 
 
 round the room several times, and to insist on his suddenly 
 
 altering his gait-tempo every few steps. This will make 
 
 him look and feel such a lunatic, that he will remember the 
 
 lesson for the rest of his days. 
 
 Continuity Continuity in performance, of course, does not depend 
 
 toS en( d so ^ v on obedience to this law of continuity of tempo; it 
 
 emotional depends also upon the due planning-out of the Tone-values, 
 
 pianning-out and upon the correct planning-out of the emotional stress 
 
 of the piece. 
 
 In this planning-out a gradual increase and decrease 
 of tempo itself may often help as well as such variations 
 applied to tone-differences. But this leads me to the dis- 
 cussion of a detail of expression which, while it is one of the 
 
 60
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 61 
 
 most powerful and potent, is at the same time one of the 
 least understood. And it is one which is most rarely taught 
 correctly (even when the attempt is made) since it involves 
 a principle believed to be mysterious, although its compre- 
 hension is perfectly simple. I allude to the Principle op 
 Rubato. 1 
 
 Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say, that Rubato is gen- True nature 
 erally quite misunderstood, even by those who may them- ^^ bato, - te 
 selves apply it correctly enough in their own performances, misunder 
 
 Often enough I hear of teachers who tell their pupils stood, 
 they "must not play Rubato." Such teachers find them- 
 selves compelled to take this step, simply because their pupils 
 have not been correctly shown how to keep time, nor the 
 real significance of Rubato; and because these pupils there- 
 fore play absurdly meaningless ritardos and accellerandos, in 
 place of the required musically-helpful and true Rubatos. 
 
 Again, it seems incredible that any musician in his senses 
 could make the absurd mistake of supposing that Rubato 
 implies any breaking of time. Yet I know of a number of 
 instances where quite well-known professors deliberately tell 
 their pupils: " You must not play Chopin in time!" 
 
 1 Since I first gave this lecture, an amusing case in point has pre- Rubato is no 
 sented itself. In a book recently published (apparently for the sole pur- mystery, it is 
 pose of abusing my technical teachings) the author realizes that there neither 
 must be a something apart from tone-inflection, which plays a very import- s " ent_ 
 ant part in musical expression; but, wanting as he is in that very faculty f™"* ^° r „ 
 of "analysis" which he so much deprecates and despises — that "ration- 
 alism" which he so vehemently girds against — he fails to diagnose what 
 is the true nature of this, to him, mysterious Something. Hence he 
 lands himself in quagmires of verbiage, in "telepathy," and in hibernian- 
 isms, such as "silent sound," etc. Not possessing this despised analyti- 
 cal faculty he, in his blindness, fails to run to earth and diagnose this 
 very "rational" but necessary element of Rubato, as the cause of his sup- 
 posed "silent sound" and "telepathic" effects!
 
 62 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Of course, both these classes of professors are equally in 
 the wrong — those who object to Rubato, and those who 
 condone Time-breaking — and their teachings only prove 
 too conclusively how thoroughly they have failed to grasp 
 the true nature of Rubato as an important and all-pervad- 
 ing Means of Expression. True, their musical sense is 
 strong enough to make them feel that Time must often 
 diverge from a sheer straight line, but so little reasoning 
 power have these artists (yes, they play quite passably) that 
 they are quite unable to analyse what they, themselves, 
 unconsciously succeed in doing in order to prevent this very 
 "squareness" which they quite justly loathe; and such 
 teachers thus find themselves at an impasse, for they cannot 
 find a way of rectifying the musical chaos into which they 
 have misled their pupils! 
 
 It really amounts to crass stupidity in the case of men 
 who have worked at their profession for years, although it 
 may be regarded as a pardonable sin in the case of inex- 
 perienced young teachers. 
 Ritardos and Now, as I insist on the absolute necessity for continuity 
 Acceiieran- j n fa Q performance of a continuously built-up composition, 
 
 dos are not , . . , . ..... .. 
 
 Rubato. an0 - as t" ls can on ly be secured by insisting upon continuity 
 of tempo, it follows, that constantly recurring ritardos and 
 accellerandos are inadmissible as a means of expression. 1 
 Nevertheless, in playing, we are often compelled to adopt a 
 device employed in ordinary speech, a device to which we 
 resort when we wish to emphasize words without raising the 
 voice; for we are then compelled to give more 
 
 time to those words. 
 
 1 Ritardos and accellerandos (in place of Rubato) are often marked by 
 mistake by composers who have not carefully enough analysed the per- 
 formance of their own works. See Notes, pages 38, 71 and 89.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 63 
 
 Herein, then, we perceive the foundation and necessity The true 
 of Rubato : we wish to emphasize certain notes without giving ^ at j° Mle « 
 them undue tonal emphasis and we then naturally dwell more 
 on those notes — we spend more time upon them than is their 
 natural due. But, as continuity in Tempo remains 
 
 inexorable the only way to reconcile these two apparently 
 opposite requirements (those of continuity and time-leaning) 
 is to bend the Time and not to break it. If, therefore, we 
 wish to give extra time to certain notes, we must correspond- 
 ingly take away time from other notes, to make up for the 
 extra time thus spent; or again, if we wish to hasten certain 
 notes of a passage, we must delay other notes correspondingly 
 for the same reason; and thus we shall be able rigidly to 
 keep to our Tempo outline, in spite of all this Time-bending 
 and swerving. 
 
 In fact, we may, and should in nearly all music, thus Time-curves 
 curve round the line of an otherwise straight-on Pulse, but «"■?•■* 
 
 °^ ' required. 
 
 while we do this we must never forget the line's true position 
 in Time-space. An analogy can be shewn to the eye by 
 contrasting a straight line with another drawn in curves or 
 otherwise ornamented, since such ornamentation need not 
 destroy the true basic linear progression. See a, b and c, 
 Exp. 25: 
 
 Example 25. 
 
 
 a, b and c in above example may be used to denote Rubato; whereas d is 
 a bad Rubato, since the space covered on each side of the horizontal line 
 does not here balance — does not " lead back to the pulse."
 
 64 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Rubato in 
 
 modern 
 
 music. 
 
 Thus in Rubato, we may seemingly disregard the pulse, 
 or even the bar-lines for several recurrences, and yet we must 
 never, while giving such Time-curves, lose sight of the place 
 where the bar-line or pulse does recur at the end of such 
 Rubato. We see therefore that Rubato-playing, so far from 
 implying any weakness rhythmically, on the contrary de- 
 mands a particularly strongly cultivated feeling for Pulse. 
 Otherwise, when in a Rubato we are compelled to omit 
 allusion to the pulse for several of its normal recurrences- 
 places, we shall be unable to swing-back, or recur to it with 
 the requisite accuracy at the end of such Rubato. 1 
 
 No modern music is at all tolerable without the proper 
 application of Rubato — and much of it. To hear a Chopin 
 Nocturne for instance, or a more modern work, played with- 
 out Time-inflections is indeed (for anyone at all sensitive, 
 musically) a horrible experience. Let me give you a taste of 
 this, and show you what the absence of Rubato really signifies. 
 I will play a few bars from Chopin's F minor Nocturne, first 
 without the proper Rubato and then with it : 
 
 Example 26a. 
 
 P senza Rubato 
 Example 266. 
 
 Rubato 
 
 (acccl 
 
 ttmfO 
 
 1 Rubato, in fact, demands a Pulse-sense so strong and full of vitality, 
 that it will enable us to feel a pulse (or Beat) unwaveringly, although its 
 rhythmical recurrences may be so slow (or deferred) as to cover a whole 
 phrase at a time — nay, sometimes half-a-page or a whole page of Piano 
 music.
 
 THE ELEMENT OP RUBATO 65 
 
 But while it is clear enough that modern music is quite *»*»<© in 
 impossible without Rubato, we shall find that most of the nmste. 
 older music also requires it in a measure — although very 
 subtly applied. Beethoven requires it less than 
 
 the other older great Masters, but even with him it is not 
 totally absent. Bach certainly admits it in a measure, and 
 Mozart obviously needs it quite markedly, although subtly 
 applied. We know from Mozart's own letters that he used 
 it greatly, and much to the astonishment, mystification, 
 and probable confusion of his contemporaries. 
 
 This leads me to a digression. I must protest against Fallacy/* 
 the tendency amongst some to imagine that because a great **^j* . 
 Master lived so many years ago, because his body has long ^ tmemo- 
 been dead and buried, his music must also be in a sense dead tionaL 
 — unemotional, un-alive and passionless. Could there be 
 a more fatuitous mistake! Surely, all these great Masters 
 were pulsating, living beings, at least quite as alive and 
 fervent as we are, as emotional, as full of passion, as full 
 of strong feeling and thought as the best of us to-day, and 
 probably far more so! Indeed, is it not evident, that it is 
 just because they had such phenomenal Enthusiasm for their 
 art, because they had such phenomenal feeling and vitality 
 — and reasoning power — that they were able to give us such 
 masterpieces? Then again, the records we have of 
 
 their playing, are they records of Mendelssohnian cold glitter? 
 Do we not read just the contrary? Yet it is pretended 
 by some, to-day, that it is not "classical" to put any human 
 emotion into Beethoven or Bach! . . . Indeed, there are 
 some signs lately that Chopin — of all people — is soon to be 
 relegated to the realm of the cold and dead — and "classic. " l 
 
 1 But what a misunderstanding of a term! Should not "classical" 
 signify that perfect balance of the emotional and the intellectual which is 
 the very foundation of all true art? There is no such "balance" if we 
 delete the emotional.
 
 66 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 in giving Now, please do not misunderstand me to maintain that 
 
 emotional Beethoven and Bach are to be treated in the manner of 
 
 life, shape ~ 
 
 must not be Schumann, Brahms, Chopin and Debussy! It is true, indeed, 
 lost sight of. that the more shapely, the more architectural the music, 
 the less ornately may it be treated. To smudge over the 
 majestic arches, columns and domes of a really fine cathedral 
 with tinselly colors and gew-gaws, is of course nothing 
 short of a crime. But do not let us pretend that we can 
 see the cathedral without light — without the strong shadows 
 and colors, and mysteries — and rhythm — which light 
 brings with it! As I have already said, in playing great 
 works, works continuous and large in their construction, 
 such as are Beethoven's, we must often restrain the im- 
 pulse to color each detail too strongly, lest we lose sight 
 of the larger shapes of the piece, its general feeling and 
 the majestic progression of its great proportions. We must 
 play Beethoven not sentimentally, but we must play him 
 with sentiment — with strong feeling, and dramatically. 
 Let me play you a few bars of the "Waldstein" Sonata as 
 I have heard them abused, and then with the correction of 
 this mawkishness. 1 Thus: (a) with Rubato — incorrect; 
 (b) almost without Rubato — correct. 
 
 Example 27. 
 
 iv-^v— senza Rubato 
 
 1 In these Rubato examples the — <aAAA /VV ~ sign is sometimes used for 
 time-inflection (analogously to the tone-inflection sign — = ==— ). Where 
 the sign swells out the time broadens out. At other times a curve below 
 or above a horizontal line is employed to denote the Rubato.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 67 
 
 Seeing then the exceeding importance of Rubato, it be- When to 
 hooves us to teach it as soon as practicable — even to the * each *■* 
 
 . . learn 
 
 child. It should be taught as early as possible: first, be- Rubat0> 
 cause a rhythmical sense can be acquired with comparative 
 ease while young; and secondly, because of the extreme 
 importance of Rubato in all modern music. And, of course, 
 the child must begin its musical experiences with music of 
 to-day and not of yesterday, for the average child cannot 
 easily learn to think in a past idiom until it has had consid- 
 erable experience of present day music. 1 
 
 1 This does not mean that we should feed his young mind on Freak- The problem 
 music, or on Flimsiness. Yet there is no greater mistake than to imagine of music for 
 that because music itself has appeared in a certain order of evolvement, children, 
 therefore it must be brought to the young mind in a similar order; and 
 that we must, therefore, begin with the most difficult and complex intel- 
 lectually, the most subtle emotionally, and the most wonderful of all the 
 great Masters, Bach — a fine topsy-turvydom indeed! I must confess, 
 for my own part, that I have still not entirely overcome my repugnance 
 to and prejudice against Milton's "Paradise Lost," which was rammed 
 down my throat long before it could be possible for me to digest it, before 
 I could hope to see those beauties in it which I am quite prepared to believe 
 may be there, but which are still closed from my vision because of the 
 folly of my early teachers. Here, also, is the place to protest against the 
 folly of giving deadly-dull and unmusical pieces and studies to children. 
 How can the child learn to love music by being soaked in Non-music? 
 Leagues of such waste-material, supposed to be "easy," are turned out 
 and dumped upon the market as "teaching pieces" by the publishers — 
 sheer platitudes, without a spark of invention or imagination or rhythmi- 
 cal life, saying nothing and meaning nothing, and such stuff is supposed 
 to teach Music to children! No wonder so many look upon their practice- 
 hour with loathing! This crime could not be possible, were it not that 
 the average would-be teacher seems to be totally wanting in musical 
 judgment, and hence, quite fails to perceive the deadly-poisonous nature 
 of this commercial shoddy -material. For with a little trouble, there is 
 plenty of real music obtainable quite within the ordinary child's grasp, 
 and therefore stimulating to him — and also to the teacher; hence, there
 
 68 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Almost every child can learn perfectly well to feel pulse, 
 to feel Time, if taught on the right lines — if taught from 
 the outset to see (as I have already insisted) that music 
 consists of progression or movement, progression or move- 
 ment as regards Tune, progression as regards Harmony, 
 
 is no excuse for the use of material which is disheartening to and paralysing 
 in its influence on both. 
 
 We must always remember, too, that the child is more likely to be in 
 tune with present-day idiom than with that of a past generation. We 
 have masterpieces for children written by such natural musicians as 
 Poldini, and other foreign successful writers, such as Jensen, Godard, 
 Ole Olsen, Theo. Kullak, Grieg, etc., while many worthy modern British 
 names might also be mentioned, for instance, John Kinross, Felix S win- 
 stead, Carlo Albanesi, Cuthbert Nunn, and many others. Some few 
 exceptional children also are open to an appeal from the classics (such as 
 Corelli, Scarlatti, Bach, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven) but one should 
 be sure of this, before immersing them in an idiom far removed from that 
 natural to them. 
 
 If, however, such children obviously do enjoy the older classics, there is 
 no reason why they should not be allowed to become familiar with some 
 of the lighter works, or such a truly modern work as the Chromatic Fan- 
 tasia — although, of course, no child can possibly fully realize the subtle 
 feeling of such "grown-up" music. 
 
 In connection with all this, an interesting question was put to me at 
 one of my lectures. It was asked "at the same time is it not necessary 
 that music of the earlier writers should be brought before children as 
 literature, and in quantities large enough to leave a definite impression 
 of each great composer's characteristics?" The answer is, that each 
 case must be taken on its own merits — what is poison for some may be 
 meat for others. But no music, however good, should be forced upon 
 anyone before they are ready to enjoy it; else we always risk creating a 
 loathing for all music, instead of a love for it. One must therefore begin 
 gradually and tentatively. Give the children music which they can enjoy 
 (and that will probably be quite modern in feeling) and from this gradu- 
 ally lead them to perceive that which is in an idiom more difficult for 
 them, an older idiom, or one more complex, and hence more difficult to 
 master. Lead always from the simple to the complex in idiom, in con-
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 69 
 
 and above all things, progression as regards Pulse and 
 Rhythm. Obviously, it is also found quite easy for the 
 child to take the next step, and to learn to divide these 
 Pulses up into all kinds of details — always remember, de- 
 tails of progression. Now, if the child can learn to do all 
 this — and can learn to feel portions of time less than the 
 Pulse, surely, it is only one step further for the child to 
 learn accurately to notice the recurrence of more widely 
 distributed beats or pulses — those recurring at wider 
 intervals, while omitting for the moment any reference to 
 the in-between beats — as required in Rubato. 
 
 struction, and in feeling; lead from the idiom of to-day to an under- 
 standing of that of yesterday. Of course we find exceptional cases, as I 
 have said before, of little geniuses of nine or ten who are quite prepared 
 to love Bach and ready to see much of its true feeling. 
 
 As to trying to teach children the "characteristics" of the various great 
 composers, is this not somewhat on a par with teaching the events of His- 
 tory to children, and expecting them to learn the lessons and draw the 
 conclusions therefrom, conclusions which history may possibly teach to 
 a few of their elders, provided such historical successions of events are 
 analysed so as to lay bare the evolution of the race, of institutions, of 
 ideas, etc? 
 
 Is it not premature to try to make mere children realize the "distinctive 
 characteristics of style" say between a Shelley and a Browning, a Shakes- 
 peare and a Milton, a Swinburne and a Rosetti ? Besides, where is the harm 
 if they do not so distinguish for a time? The main thing is to teach them 
 to enjoy and love Music. As to the teacher, that is another matter, the 
 various composers demand differences of treatment, hence, the teacher 
 must understand such distinctions.
 
 70 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 The two dis- 
 tinct funda- 
 mental forms 
 of Rubato: 
 (I) the 
 11 Leaning 
 Rubato." 
 
 Rubato gives 
 the strongest 
 form of 
 emphasis. 
 
 To come to details: to begin with, we must notice that 
 Rubato can take two quite distinct forms. The most usual 
 is that in which we emphasize a note (or a number of notes) 
 by giving more than the expected Time-value, and then 
 subsequently make-up the time thus lost by accelerating 
 the remaining notes of that phrase or idea so as to enable 
 us accurately to return to the pulse. This return to the 
 pulse must always occur at the most important point or 
 note of the phrase — that is, near its end. Remember, 
 this law is inexorable, we must always look ahead, and 
 come boxk to the pulse at the chief syllable of the phrase, 
 however much we may have swerved from it beforehand. 
 Indeed, the very fact of our returning to the main pulse 
 after having swerved from it forms the strongest means of 
 emphasis we can give to any note. 
 
 For instance: 
 Example 28a. (Nocturne in F sharp — Chopin. 1 ) 
 
 Rubato 
 
 or: W1^1/|JV-^ 
 
 <?: 
 
 1 Here we have a double Rubato: the main Rubato is caused by 
 wavering over the first notes of the phrase, and the delay thus caused 
 must be made up by hurrying over the first two quaver C sharps, so as to 
 bring us back to the pulse accurately at the bar-line — the chief syllable 
 of the phrase, with its resolution of the dominant harmony of the previous 
 bar; and a smaller, subsidiary Rubato then prevents the subsequent 
 demisemiquavers (32nd notes) from appearing square — this subsidiary 
 rubato being in the form of a slight lingering over the first C sharp of that 
 bar, while the time is again made up by a corresponding acceleration of 
 these demisemiquavers towards the final note of the phrase, which thus 
 forms an unaccented (or "feminine") phrase-ending. Played any other 
 way, the phrase would prove totally unmusical. Both time-swerves 
 (even the first one) are here most delicate and minute.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 71 
 
 In the opposite form of Rubato (it might be termed (n) the 
 inverted rubato) we begin with a pushing-on or hurrying the " P ush -° n " 
 time. This we must necessarily follow up by retarding the 
 subsequent notes of the phrase. This retard serves (like 
 the corresponding swing-back of the first form of Rubato) 
 to bring us back again, at the phrase-climax, into unison, 
 with our Pulse. And this phrase-climax, I would remind 
 you, is near the end of the phrase. See Exp. 285, and pp. 
 
 36 — 41, 70, 73. 
 
 "Valse noble" from Carnival, Schumann. 1 
 Example 286. 
 
 ^j\\as*~~ focoaaxl. 
 
 Moreover, these two forms of Rubato may be combined 
 even in a single phrase. In fact, such compound Rubato is 
 far more usual than the simple uncombined variety. 
 
 1 Here it is well to point out that we must not allow ourselves to 
 be misled by the inaccurate markings found in the texts of editors and 
 of the composers themselves. Chopin, Schumann and Brahms, for 
 instance, are constantly found to have marked Ritardos, when they have 
 really meant the Rubato swinging-back of a rhythm after a preceding 
 (but unmarked) accellerando; and vice versa, they have often marked 
 accellerandos when they have failed to note the preceding causal ritardos. 
 The simple explanation is that they have failed properly to diagnose the 
 means of performance actually required for their own music! 
 
 Schumann, in his first Nachtstuck, for instance, could not have meant 
 a constant breaking up of the piece! No doubt in his own playing of 
 it, he had noticed certain places where ritardos apparently occurred and 
 he promptly noted these down. But he had failed to notice the preced- 
 ing accelerandos, which are the cause of the swerve and balance in the 
 Time-pulses, and which enable the piece to be perfectly continuous, while 
 allowing a full portrayal of its agitated feeling. 
 
 The two 
 Rubato 
 forms may 
 be combined. 
 
 Ritardos and 
 Accelleran- 
 dos in text, 
 often found 
 to be incor- 
 rectly noted 
 Rubatos.
 
 72 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 The exact Another noteworthy point is, that in teaching Rubato, 
 th^^him ^ e on ly thing we can determine with exactitude is the posi- 
 to the pulse ^ on °f the return to the pulse; for the actual extent of a 
 must he rubato-curve may, and should vary with the mood of the 
 noted. performer, just as in the case of the analogous tone-curves. 
 
 The actual nature of the curve itself is also thus variable; 
 but not so the return to the pulse — that always has a defi- 
 nite and invariable position for each phrase. 
 The cause of "We should also, in every case, note the cause of each 
 , e [frr Rubato, the place where the Rubato is begun; that is, 
 noted. whether the Rubato is caused (in the earlier part of the 
 
 phrase) by a "leaning" emphasis or retardation, or by a 
 "push-on" or hurrying of the time, or whether the two 
 kinds of Rubato are combined in the phrase under consid- 
 eration. 
 
 Moreover, the actual extent of a Rubato-curve varies 
 
 greatly, since we may use a Rubato to emphasize a single 
 
 note only, or we may use it to give a graceful curve to a 
 
 whole phrase as in so many of Chopin's works, for instance 
 
 his Berceuse, C minor Nocturne, etc., or even to a whole 
 
 section of a movement as elsewhere in Chopin, for instance 
 
 in his F minor Ballade, Fantasie-Polonaise, etc. 
 
 Rubato Rubato, in fact, will enable us to make clear the climax 
 
 allows a £ a pipage even with a decrescendo progression towards its 
 
 climax to be climax; for, as already pointed out, it is a most striking fact, 
 
 shown in that the return to the pulse (after having swerved away 
 decrescendo. f rom ft) f forms the most potent kind of emphasis we can 
 
 give to any note. 1 
 
 In speaking of a Phrase-climax, it is of course understood 
 
 that this invariably occurs either at or near the end of the 
 
 1 Strictly speaking, there can be no Rubato "on one note"; but we 
 may draw attention to a single note by employing a Rubato before or 
 after it. See note, page 74.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 73 
 
 phrase. This may seem unnecessary reiteration after what Fallacy 
 I have shown to be the nature of a phrase — its consisting re g^ din « 
 always of a progression of notes leading up to a, cadence, but pm -ase- 
 I have found it gravely and deliberately mis-stated in some climax, 
 "instruction" books, that the accent of a phrase "is always 
 at its beginning" — than which there could not well be 
 anything further from the truth, musically! Possibly this 
 mistake has arisen from the fact that the first note of a Attack of 
 phrase does sometimes require a slight accent, to give the p 
 effect of "good attack." Such slight accents are, of course, 
 in the nature of "cross accents," since they go against the 
 feeling of the straight-on progression. They are required 
 especially where the phrases and motives, etc., commence 
 against the grain (as it were) of the music, as so often found 
 in Bach, and the older Masters. Thus: 
 
 Example 29. 
 
 But always bear in mind, no amount of such "attack" 
 on a first note must be allowed to mar or weaken the sense 
 of progression of the phrase towards its climax or crisis. 1 
 
 1 Most of the music-material of the old Masters commences on an 
 unaccented portion of the rhythm. This rule often holds good even in 
 the case of apparent exceptions. For instance, the Fugue from Bach's 
 Chromatic Fantasia starts on a bar-line so far as eye-appearances are con- 
 cerned. It is written in f time, but the theme is truly in J time, and starts 
 with a half-bar of this time; hence there is here no exception after all.
 
 74 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Various 
 forms of 
 Rubato 
 illustrated: 
 (I) The more 
 usual or 
 11 leaning M 
 Rubato. 
 
 All means of 
 expression 
 must always 
 be applied 
 solely to 
 express 
 music. 
 
 We will now take some, illustrations of these various forms 
 of Rubato. First, we will take the single note emphasis, 
 and as so many people imagine Bach to be Rubato-less, let 
 us take his prelude in F sharp. The Rubato is here very 
 slight indeed. Probably, if I did not point it out, you 
 would not notice its influence — but then, Rubato-inflections 
 should never be applied so disproportionately as to become 
 noticeable as such. 1 
 
 The fact is, that no means of expression (whatever their 
 nature) must ever be allowed to force themselves upon the 
 attention. They must never be applied so coarsely as to 
 become obvious as such to the listener. 2 I will now play the 
 first bars of this Prelude, first with these so very necessary 
 (although slight) rubato-inflections, and then without them, 
 and you will realize how dismal and unmusically stiff the 
 effect is without Rubato — although it is Bach! 
 
 The lecturer here played the first bars of Bach's Prelude in F sharp, 
 with the proper (very slight) Time-leanings on the tied notes, thus: 
 
 Example 30. 
 
 Conmoto (Jfl) 
 
 1 Some even object that slight Rvbatos, such as here in question "are 
 not Rubato at all, but are merely a 'leaning' on a note"; these quite for- 
 get that unless every such leaning is rectified elsewhere in that phrase, it 
 must inevitably imply a playing out of time. Every such leaning, there- 
 fore, necessarily implies a true Rubato, although of very slight extent. See 
 note, page 72. 
 
 1 See pages 79 and 120-1, and Section VI.
 
 THE ELEMENT OP RTJBAT0 
 
 75 
 
 He then played the same bars without these inflections, showing how 
 "wooden" the effect is without them. 
 
 Here it is well to call your attention to another matter, Tone- 
 although it forms a digression from that upon which we are Mn ? unt 
 immediately engaged. Notice that the tone-amount itself no te-length 
 must also vary with the varying lengths of the notes in such in uneven 
 a passage. To be more explicit: passages. 
 
 When you play such a passage as we have just had, 
 a passage consisting of notes differing as to their time- 
 size — notes of various lengths — not only is it neces- 
 sary to treat it as we have done (giving slightly longer 
 time to the longer notes, and slightly shorter time to 
 the shorter notes than is their due according to the 
 written text) but we must also apply the tone-inflec- 
 tions in the same way — the shorter notes must be 
 somewhat shorn of their tone. In this way we shall 
 more nearly approximate the general effect to that of 
 a sustaining instrument. 1 
 
 1 For we find, with a sustaining instrument, such as the Voice or 
 Violin, etc., that the longer notes are bound to impress themselves upon 
 the ear far more than do the shorter ones, since the full volume of tone 
 may continue throughout the duration of the note on such instruments, 
 whereas with the Pianoforte the beginning of a note necessarily forms 
 a far stronger effect than does the remnant of tone which we, as pianists, 
 imagine to be a "sustaining" of the note — for even with the best carry- 
 ing, singing-touch quality, there remains always a certain amount of percus- 
 sion in every Piano-sound. See also page 110 on Phrase-continuations-
 
 76 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 In a slow 
 movement, 
 the tone for 
 the quicker 
 notes is 
 reduced 
 from a high 
 background. 
 
 Now, in a slow movement, these tone-variations should 
 be thought of as being (for the quicker notes) a cutting away 
 of the tone from the general tone-level, as in the Bach 
 excerpt just given. That is, the main body of the passage 
 here requires a considerably high volume of singing-tone, 
 but we must relax from this normally high tone-level where- 
 ever the shorter notes occur. Listen to this Bach-passage 
 once again, and observe now the process — the mechanism — 
 of making a passage sound un-mechanical. I will play it 
 slower, so that you may observe it better: 
 
 (The lecturer here repeated Exp. No. 30, pointing out the tone-inflec- 
 tions he used, all being of course quite minute inflections.) 
 
 To prove the case, hear it once again, given with all 
 the notes of same tone value, and notice how ugly this 
 sounds: 
 
 In a quick 
 movement 
 the reverse 
 applies. 
 
 (The lecturer here once again played the bars in question, but with- 
 out tone-inflections, after which he repeated them with the proper 
 rendering.) 
 
 In a quick movement we have to do just the opposite. 
 Here, instead of thinking the passage as of a large tone-level 
 and cutting away (or lowering) the tone for the unimportant 
 and quicker notes, we must proceed on a much lighter foun- 
 dation, and must, in such quicker passages, add tone to this 
 normally low tone-level wherever the accented notes occur; 
 for instance the following, from Beethoven's " Waldstein " 
 Sonata. (See Exp. 31, next page): 
 
 (The lecturer first played Exp. 31 with the requisite accentuation, then 
 played it with its soft foundation touch only, then again with the proper 
 accents added to this basis. He also gave as an example a few bars from 
 his own Concert-study, "Bravura.") See Exp. 32, page 78.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 77 
 
 Example 31. (From Beethoven's " Waldstein " Sonata.)
 
 Further 
 examples of 
 " leaning " 
 
 Rubato. 
 
 78 
 
 Example 32. 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 (From "Bravura," — Tobias Matihay}) 
 * 1 
 
 Here again, the accents are superimposed upon a light foundation. 
 
 But let us come back to our Rvbato illustrations: 
 
 We had an example from Bach, let us now take one from 
 Beethoven. The first subject from the last movement of 
 the "Waldstein" Sonata will serve quite well, although 
 the required Rubato is here quite slight and subtle. The 
 beginning of the phrase here requires emphasis towards the 
 second of the two Gs, while the further progress of the phrase 
 towards its little climax must nevertheless be made clear. 
 Now we should destroy the suave character of the tune, if 
 we tried to show both of these points purely by tone em- 
 phasis. This would make it sound rough and raw, thus: 
 
 Example 33a. 
 drtce 
 
 Hence we are compelled to resort to a slight — a very slight — 
 Rubato. We must give a very slight Time-leaning towards 
 and upon the second of the two Gs, and the extra time thus 
 spent we must make up during the next three melody notes, 
 so that we may regain the pulse precisely on the C — the 
 climax-note of the motif. Our return to the pulse at this 
 point will sufficiently emphasize it without any undue tonal 
 1 By permission of Messrs. Ricordi.
 
 THE ELEMENT OP RUBATO 
 
 79 
 
 emphasis; and it will incidentally also connect the two short 
 strains into one eight-bar phrase, thus : 
 Example 336. 
 
 -^wvVWvw< 
 
 -*wWVwy- 
 
 For a Rubato of slightly longer extent in Bach and Beethoven 
 let us take the second subject of Bach's Prelude in F minor 
 (from the "48"), and the opening of the Allegretto from 
 Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata. I will first play these, 
 trying to give them their proper feeling without the use of 
 Rubato, and you will see that it is impossible. I will then 
 play them both with the proper Time-curves (or Rubato) 
 and you will see how the phrases at once leap into life : l 
 Example 34. 
 
 1 The reader, in trying to carry out these Rubato and Tone-inflections, Rubato 
 must always remember that they are to be extremely slight and subtle, inflections 
 They must never become noticeable as such except to the analysing ear. must always 
 See the remarks on this head on page 74. Remember Chopin's illustra- be camed 
 tion to his pupil; he first blew gently upon the candle in front of him, ou su y *
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Example of 
 
 Rubato 
 
 analysis. 
 
 Two bars of 
 
 Chopin's 
 
 Ballade in 
 
 Aflat 
 
 n m iv j n m • IV' i 
 
 As an example of a Rvbato of similar character, but more 
 marked, let us consider for a moment the opening phrase of 
 Chopm's Ballade in A flat. How rarely, indeed, is this 
 phrase given sai/isfyingly, or convincingly, even by the best 
 players, except by sheer accident! This uncertainty as to 
 success simply arises from the fact that the required Rubato 
 has not been properly analysed nor understood. It is, there- 
 fore, worth while to analyse the Rubato here required, as it 
 affords a striking instance of the supreme importance of 
 accurate study and analysis of this process. 
 
 The Rubato in question occurs within the first two bars, 
 but I will play four bars to give the phrase completeness, and 
 will first play it without any vestige of Rubato, and then with 
 it, thus: 
 
 Example 36a. 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 and, making it flicker, remarked: "See, that is my Rubato," he then 
 blew the candle out, adding : "and that is your Rubato! " See note, p. 99.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 81 
 
 The Time-signature f is misleading, it should really have 
 been notated as *f-; and the piece, therefore, begins with a 
 half-bax of this -j- time. The structure of the phrase is a 
 swing towards the tonic chord; the opening E flat is there- 
 fore not a down-beat (as it looks in the original) but is an 
 up-beat — a syncopation in fact; and as such it requires 
 considerable tone and time-emphasis. This time-leaning 
 on the opening E flat is the cause of the Rubato, and we are 
 compelled to hasten - the remaining quavers (eighth-notes) 
 of that bar, so that we may swing back to the Pulse at the 
 crisis of the phrase — the A-flat chord at the true bar-line. 1 
 In this way we are able to draw attention to it without 
 undue tonal emphasis, while yet rendering clear the true 
 rhythmical swing. This chief point of the phrase is fol- 
 lowed by a "feminine" ending, and here again a very slight 
 Rubato assists its rhythmical swing; and thus, you see, we 
 really have a double Rubato in this simple little phrase. 
 Here is another similar Rubato, from the same work: 
 
 Example 366. 
 
 -MUfuyuw^- — 
 
 And here is yet another such "leaning" rubato, but in a 
 quicker movement: 
 
 1 The true bar-lines are here marked bolder than the false ones.
 
 82 
 
 Example 36c. 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 (From "Elves" — Tobias MaUhay}) 
 
 For a somewhat more extended Rubato — a whole four-bar 
 phrase with a time-swell in the middle of it — let us take 
 Schumann 's " Traumerei ' ' : 
 
 Example 37. 
 
 Rubato — W/\Aa^- — -aV\/\/W v ' 
 
 Remember, such Time-curves must only be gentle wavelets, they must 
 not be in the nature of earthquakes! See Note to Exp. 34, page 79. 
 
 Example of 
 Rubato 
 showing 
 trend of 
 phrase in 
 spite of a 
 dim. 
 
 To show you now how a Rubato will enable us to make 
 clear a phrase-climax, or a main bar-line accent, in spite of 
 a diminuendo, I will quote two themes from Beethoven and 
 one from Chopin. See Exps. 38, 39 and 40: 
 
 1 By permission of Messrs. Weekes and Co.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 83 
 
 Example 38. 
 
 Example 39. 
 
 (From Beethoven's Op. 2, in C. 1 ) 
 
 (From Beethoven's Op. 31, in G. 1 ) 
 
 
 
 
 
 ill (fj 
 
 nf -1 — Tfi 
 
 
 
 p~ 
 
 nfct v - 
 
 
 
 — • ! 
 
 etc. ; 
 
 1 
 
 
 - 
 
 Example 40. 
 
 (From Chopin's Valse in A flat, Op. 34. 1 ) 
 
 The three-bar rhythm of Chopin's Andante Sjrianato shows Example of 
 us how Rubato can make a phrase clear, in spite of its com- Rubato 
 
 • showing 
 
 mencing with a cross-accent. As before, I will first play cross-accent 
 this without Rubato, and you will see how dead and stodgy 
 
 1 Without this slight Rubato the phrase-accent cannot be shown here, 
 since a crescendo towards it would be inappropriate; whereas its position 
 is easily made clear with the Rubato swinging back to it. But this 
 Rubato is again of a most diaphanous, gossamer type. See pp. 99 and 79.
 
 84 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 it remains; I will then add the proper Rubato, when at one© 
 again, the phrase becomes alive — becomes vivid. 1 
 
 Example 41. 
 
 (From Andante Spianato — Chopin.) 
 
 Again die' 
 importance 
 of scanning. 
 
 Even in Beethoven we find exemplified this tendency to 
 give a "leaning accent" (i.e., a time or Rubato emphasis) 
 where the notes of a melody are syncopated; for instance, 
 take the second part of the first subject of the Sonata, Op. 90. 
 Here, again, you will realize how extremely important it 
 is always to scan each phrase before playing it. How often, 
 indeed, is the beautiful swing of this melody completely 
 ruined, simply because the correct rhythm has not been no- 
 ticed. Although written in f time, it is really in £ time, 
 
 1 Note that this analysis of the structure of the phrase proves it really 
 to be in I time, instead of the 1 originally written. The phrase begins 
 with a cross-accent (or syncopation) delivered on the second bar of such 
 J time, and the true phrase-climax is thus thrown on to the first of the 
 next bar.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 85 
 
 with the accent always on the alternate (second) one of the 
 original f bar-lines. 
 
 It must therefore not be played thus: 
 
 Example 42a. 
 
 ritard. 
 
 (Wrong Accentuation.) 
 But it should be accented thus: 
 
 Example 42b. 
 
 (Correct Scanning.) 
 Or, in place of such rough tone-accents, it is still better to 
 make this rhythm clear by means of slight rubatos; finally 
 thus : — 
 Example 42c. 
 
 focoaccd. 
 (The proper reading.)
 
 86* 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Rubato 
 required to 
 depict 
 agitation. 
 
 Always 
 shapeful, 
 however 
 veiled the 
 shapes. 
 
 Here is a still longer form of "leaning accent." 
 
 "Love-phases" No. 3.— Tobias Matthay. 1 
 
 wvWVVWvw*** acee ^ 
 
 This leads me to point out that Rubato is most of all 
 required to enhance emotionally-agitated strains. Indefinite 
 emotions, such as persuasiveness, longing, yearning, etc., all 
 need for their due expression much "give" and curve in 
 their Pulse-progression. 2 An effect akin to fog, haze or 
 "atmosphere" is thus produced on the ear; for the details 
 here become in a measure veiled, as in an impressionist 
 picture. Much of Brahms, Debussy, etc., needs such 
 blurring by means of the Time-swerve — and also by means 
 of much orer-pedalling and /ia(f-pedalling; while Chopin 
 and Schumann are, of course, quite impossible without the 
 constant application of such Time-swerves. 3 
 
 1 By permission of Messrs. Joseph Williams. 
 
 8 Or, in other words, the elision (or omission) of the closely-reiterated 
 Pulse-throbs, and the substitution of Pulse-throbs recurring at far longer 
 intervals of time. 
 
 3 Such time-swerving, however, must be always in the nature of true 
 Rubato, and must never be allowed to deteriorate into time-breaking 
 and rhythmical chaos. Granted, that veiled shapes are beautiful, some- 
 times even more so than those of clear-cut definition, nevertheless it is 
 the presence of Shape, however veiled it may be, which renders them 
 beautiful. 
 
 The cry of some of our young tentative composers that Time and Key
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 87 
 
 On the other hand, when we do wish to express Definite- Definiteness, 
 ness or Decision in Music, such as we find in all music which eclsion » best 
 
 ...... . expressed 
 
 is the expression of sheer vitality, aggressiveness, etc., then w ithout 
 we must make each detail as clear as a sunlit day. For the Rubato in- 
 portrayal of such feelings we must avoid Rubato so far as flections - 
 possible; and thus it happens that the music of Beethoven, 
 with its appeal to all that is vital and fresh, and clean in 
 life, and great in the Universe, for the most part demands 
 almost the suppression of this far-reaching element, Rubato, 
 except in the quite subservient and minute fashion already 
 indicated, and except in the slow movements of his later 
 Sonatas, where the feeling approximates so much more than 
 in his earlier works to the intimate and immediate expres- 
 sion of self-mood — a characteristic of the so-called roman- 
 tic school. 
 
 To make these points of contrast clearer, let me give you, Illustrations 
 as an example of the first kind, the wonderful tune from ° 1 . es * 
 
 r ' distinctions 
 
 Chopin's Scherzo in B flat minor, with its feelings of wild emotionally, 
 longing. Without Rubato it would be impossible to make 
 this rhythm clear — for this tune commences with a rising 
 inflection, or cross accent. Instead of the written f time, 
 this movement is really in - 4 2 - time; and the tune corn- 
 are merely "the remnants of an old, exploded Scholasticism", of course 
 merely proves that they have failed to grasp the facts which form the 
 very basis of all musical art. Debussy himself, however, the strongest 
 exponent of this new modernism, whose mannerisms they all try to imitate, 
 has nevertheless a very fine sense both of Rhythm and of Key-relation- 
 ship, although he purposely and skilfully veils both in favor of the exigen- 
 cies of expression required by his musical individuality. 
 
 Another reason for the application of Rubato in such extremely emo- 
 tional music may perhaps be found in the fact that agitation causes our 
 heart-beats to vary — causes acceleration in the heart's action ; and it 
 would therefore be but logical to swerve and hasten our musical Pulse- 
 beats when we wish to convey to the listener a sense of agitation.
 
 88 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 mences at the half bar of this compound-quadruple time, 
 thus: — 
 
 Example 44. 
 
 To show how greatly Rubato does help us in such a case, it 
 is well to play through the whole tune, first without any 
 vestige of time-inflections, and then with these added, 
 thus : — 
 
 Example 45. 
 
 _ e _ . rando . 
 
 Now let us contrast the wild feeling here portrayed Ly 
 the Time-swerve with an example from Chopin, where he 
 wishes to be decisive, one might say almost truculent — the 
 first subject from the Scherzo in C sharp minor:
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 89 
 
 Example 46. 
 
 accel...rit. 
 
 ten. ten. 
 nonrvbato 
 
 See how untrue this rings if it is played with wild Rubatos, 
 as I have had it brought to me: 
 
 (Illustrated) 
 
 The effect of the absence of Rubato here is heightened by 
 the composer introducing this subject after a long Recita- 
 tive-like Introduction of an exceedingly free nature. 
 
 As I find this is so often misplayed and strummed through Mis-scan- 
 like a badly practised exercise, I will play it to you as I feel *?* ? f 
 it should be construed. Notice how the octave A in the scherzos 
 final Recit. is really a syncopation. 1 See Exp. 47 : again. 
 
 1 Apropos of this, and the inaccurate notation and phrasing of Chopin, 
 M. Peru "the only surviving pupil of Chopin" in an interview reprinted 
 in the "Musical Herald" says: "As to his methods of composition, they 
 were, contrary to popular opinion, most laborious. He had the habit of 
 first writing down his ideas, then trying over what he had written at 
 the piano and correcting it over and over until hardly a note of the 
 original remained." . . . "When asked to put in marks of expression 
 he put them in carelessly, never playing his pieces as they appeared 
 in print, and marking a pedal at the beginning of each bar without pay- 
 ing the least attention to the sense of the music. His own pedalling 
 was most extraordinary. His foot was constantly bobbing up and down 
 so as to produce the effect of constant pedal but also constant sharpness." 
 . . . "Chopin's interpretation of his own music was never twice alike, 
 yet always perfect. He played with very sudden and sharp nuances, and 
 frequent changes of time. As to what we call 'classical interpretation/ 
 that had no meaning for him. Everything was beauty, and even a fugue 
 he made not a dry exercise but a thing of genuine poetic charm ..." 
 See also Notes, pp. 39, 71, and Section V, Pedalling.
 
 90 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Example 47. 
 
 VLff 
 
 'r'° S m. *<-*£> *™*° Presto)
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 91 
 
 Curious too, and unaccountable, the mis-scanning of the 
 Chorale later on in this work, even by otherwise capable 
 musicians. How often do I hear it played upside down, 
 rhythmically! (See a, Exp. 48.) Instead of, as it should 
 be, see b, Exp. 48. 
 
 Example 48. 
 
 accentuation p 
 
 One of the most wonderful Rubato effects is found in the 
 Chopin Berceuse. I will play this to you, and you will see 
 that the Rubato here often extends from the beginning to the 
 end of each two-bar phrase, sometimes indeed being spread 
 over four whole bars, and thus lengthening two short 
 phrases into one of double the length. Each four-bar phrase 
 is here transformed into one single bar — one single com- 
 plete pulsation, or Swing of Rhythm; each complete phrase 
 returning to the straight line of Pulse or Beat only once
 
 92 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 during the life of this complete phrase — at its rhythmical 
 climax. 1 
 
 Notice also, that while the right hand is thus at liberty 
 to follow the player's fancy (but always strictly within the 
 bounds of each complete phrase) the left hand, on the con- 
 trary, in the meantime keeps almost perfectly straight time 
 all through the piece — with almost accurate reiterations of 
 the three beats of each half bar. 
 
 (The lecturer here played Chopin's Berceuse.) 
 
 Illustrations So far, these examples have been in the more frequent 
 of Rubato form of Rubato, viz. : that beginning with an extra expendi- 
 (II) the push- ^ ure °f ti me > which is subsequently balanced by an acceller- 
 on or in- ando back to the beat near the end of the motif or phrase. 
 We will now take some examples of t T ie opposite, or "in- 
 verted" form of Rubato, wherein we commence by pushing- 
 on or hastening the time, and subsequently return to our 
 true pulse, by a proportionate slowing-up or retardation 
 toward the end of the phrase, etc. This device is particu- 
 larly required where Agitation is to be expressed. See Ex- 
 amples 49 to 56 : 
 
 From Beethoven's, Op. 31, in D min. 
 Example 49. 
 
 verted 
 Rubato 
 
 P. A I 
 
 (a) This sign Jl. denotes a " half -pedalling " effect. See Section V. 
 
 1 Such instances of long Rubatos — and longer ones — abound in the 
 works of Chopin and Schumann, and more recent writers.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 93 
 
 Chopin's Etude in E. 1 
 
 \ accet 
 
 Example 51. 
 
 Episode from Chopin's Ballade in G minor. 
 
 1 The dotted bar-lines here are Chopin's; they are quite misleading, 
 and the proper bar-lines and "scanning" are here indicated by ordinary 
 bar-lines.
 
 94 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 This really begins with a half-bar of V time. 
 
 Chopin's Nocturne in G minor. 
 
 or rit. .._._.. accel. 
 (according to mood! J 
 
 rit tempo.
 
 Example 53a. 
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 95 
 
 Second subject from Schumann's Sonata in G minor. 
 
 Rubato: accel. 
 
 or even thus: accel, 
 
 Example 536. 
 
 Episode from the last movement of same Sonata. 
 atempo 
 
 Rvhato: rit.juxel.. jrit. 
 or 
 
 irit. 
 accel 
 
 *vV\AA*~" 
 
 — vv«5Vvj 
 
 etc. 
 
 Nocturne from York Bowen's "Miniature Suite," No. I. 1 
 Example 54. 
 
 cantando 
 
 con Ped. ^= 
 
 1 By permission of the composer (Avison Edition).
 
 96 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 (Rubato: accel. -lit, 
 
 tempo) 
 
 Chopin's Mazurka in F sharp minor (Op. 59). 
 
 Rubato: lit. _. accel. poco a poco _ __..._ rit. 
 (Really one single "pulse" of eight J.s in duration J 
 
 .tempo 
 
 Here we have an eight-bar Rubato, and the trio of the same 
 Mazurka shows us how two-bar phrases, or motifs, etc., can 
 be bound together into one four-bar phrase, thus: 
 
 Example 556.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 97 
 
 The vertical arrows here denote the only places where the written 
 rhythm really coincides with the played "Time-spot" — all the remain- 
 ing bars and beats are off the straight-on line of beats. 
 
 Another, and to my mind very striking instance of this 
 form of Rubato, is found in the second strain of the second 
 subject of Chopin's Sonata in B flat minor. The whole of 
 these eight bars should be played without any recurrence 
 to the straight-on line of Pulse till the resolution of this 
 strain, which occurs upon the first note of the repetition of 
 the first strain of the subject, at the forte; thus: 
 
 Example 56. 
 
 ■ agitato — poco a poco un pochettinb accel _ . rit. . 
 f dolce 
 
 This complete sentence consists therefore of one single incomplete long 
 bar of ^ time, finishing at /, and commencing on the fifth beat of this 
 
 lon S bar - Examples of 
 
 These two fundamental forms of Rubato are also often the com- 
 found in close combination, but the rules just given apply bma ^° no 
 
 the two 
 
 with equal force ; for we must always arrange to arrive forms ot 
 "home" upon the pulse at the climax of the phrase, or Rubato.
 
 98 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 section, or "motif" as the case may be. For instance, the 
 first strain of the Episode from Chopin's G minor Ballade, 
 which I quoted recently, is a case in point, for it really needs 
 such a combination of both forms of Rubato within its 
 short life. Refer to Exp. 51 on page 93. 
 
 Another very definite and yet closely condensed example 
 of such Compound-rubato, within the compass of one short 
 phrase, I feel in the opening bars of Brahms' Intermezzo in 
 E flat minor, Op. 118. To enable us to obtain the intensely 
 poignant effect of this phrase, we begin here with a "leaning 
 rubato," but instead of completing this as usual, by making 
 a corresponding acceleration straight back to the pulse at 
 the climax of the phrase, we must here push-on the time so 
 considerably as to swing back, not merely to the true pulse- 
 line, but beyond it, and thus induce a well-marked ritardo 
 upon the last two or three notes before finally regaining 
 the pulse at the climax-note. It is well first to play the 
 phrase through, perfectly non-rubato, and then to repeat 
 it, giving the required Compound-rubato, when you will 
 realise how these time-inflections really are part and parcel 
 of the musical sense : 
 
 Example 57a. 
 
 Andante largro e mesto
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 99 
 
 Again, this Rubato-curve must be given most subtly — a life-giving 
 breath, not a scenery-rocking earthquake! Do not try to express the 
 rvbato, but use it to express the intense feeling concentrated in this 
 phrase. See pages 74 Text, and 79 Note. 
 
 The March-like episode (or Trio) of this Intermezzo, 
 with its fatalistic feeling, forms an instructive example of 
 sheer emotional effect gained by the absence of Rubato in 
 this case, for this strain should be given with hardly a 
 vestige of Rubato ; and the contrast of its straightness and 
 squareness, after the preceding wild Rubatos, is most striking: 
 
 Example 576. 
 
 Non- rubato ^, 
 
 As another very instructive example of Compound-rubato, 
 let me play you a few bars from the wonderful Variations 
 from Benjamin Dale's Sonata in D minor: 
 
 minus: 
 Rubato curve 
 
 1 By permission of the composer, (Avison Edition).
 
 100 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Here we have a "leaning" Rubato combined with a 
 "push-on" Rubato in one single phrase, and the plus time 
 at its beginning and at its end must be precisely balanced 
 by the minus time in the centre of the phrase, so as to bring 
 us back to the pulse at the climax. 
 
 As further examples of Compound-rubato, here are three 
 from Schumann: 
 
 From Papillons (No. 10). 
 Example 59. 
 
 Ritcn
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 101 
 
 temfo 
 
 Example 60. 
 
 non rubatn 
 
 From Kinderscenen ("Am Kamin"). 
 
 (Very slight rubatos indeed J 
 
 Example 61. 
 
 From Kinderscenen ("Fast zu ernst"). 
 
 Rubato: riten accel ritardo 
 
 accel. tempo 
 
 Riten accel. 
 
 ritardo T&np*
 
 102 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 And here is one from Claude Debussy — his charming 
 Valse, "La plus que lente:" 1 
 
 Example 62. 
 
 Molto rubato con morbidezxa 
 
 "Laflusqua 
 lente" 
 
 Modem Even Beethoven understood the value of a true modern 
 
 Rubato ex- Rubato, in his later works. 2 
 
 Beethoven. ^ exam P^ es °f this, consider the following two passages 
 
 from his Op. 110 and Op. Ill respectively, where he has 
 
 tried to notate such true Rubatos: — 
 
 Example 63. 
 
 From the Adagio of Op. 110, Beethoven. 
 
 p cantabile 
 
 dim. smora 
 Meno Adagio Adagio 
 
 PPP 
 
 Splits, 
 minus 
 
 1 By kind permission of Durand et Cie., publishers and proprietors. 
 * So did Bach — one has only to realise the true meaning, for instance, 
 of the Recitatives of his Chromatic Fantasia!
 
 THE ELEMENT OP RTJBATO 103 
 
 From first movement of Op. Ill, Beethoven. 
 
 Example 64. 
 
 Tempo I 
 
 Agitato* slightly 'push on', retard back to'Pulse 
 
 From here a huge Rubato, returning perfectly to the Pulse .tine 
 
 6 S_ A. 
 
 Sass
 
 104 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Rubato To show you now, how a Rubato can enable us to show 
 
 shows accent a p U i SGj or accent, even in the absence of any note sounded 
 tied note on ^ P u ^ se i listen to the second subject from the last move- 
 ment of Schumann's Concerto, and the beginning of his 
 "Des Abends" from the Phantasiestucke : 
 
 Example 65. 
 
 -wvV — ^-wVNa^" 
 pocchettino tit accrf—.J 
 
 Example 66. 
 
 Sehrinnigzu sPielen 
 
 un pocchettino 4 
 
 occel e ritardou 
 
 Another point, self-evident enough, which is only too often 
 overlooked in attempting to give Rubato, is, that Rubato 
 
 Rubato al- 
 ways in the 
 
 curve never mus * always be more or less in the nature of a curve — it 
 a time-spike, must be applied over more than one single note. Otherwise, 
 in place of a beautifully curved effect (the very purpose of 
 Rubato) we shall have time-spikes (notes actually out of 
 time) sticking out all over our performance — spikes just 
 as uncomfortable as physical spikes. 1 For instance, I have 
 
 1 See Notes, pp. 72 and 74.
 
 THE ELEMENT OF RUBATO 
 
 105 
 
 heard quite a good artist-pupil play the opening phrase of 
 Chopin's Nocturne in G in such spike-rubato fashion in 
 her attempts to supply the something felt to be necessary. 
 I will show you the fault and its correction: 1 
 
 Example 67. 
 
 a) Incorrect.' f^JemPo.Mlo t7\ . tempo. Allo..f?\ tempo. . 
 
 b) Correct Rubato 
 
 To make such a mistake seems absurd enough, but it 
 really was a most honest endeavor, made by a thoroughly 
 earnest and in many ways experienced musician and teacher. 
 It arose from the fact that she had not been allowed to 
 apply Rubato when she was a young student, and could 
 easily have learnt its true application; but her teachers 
 had discountenanced such supposed frivolities — because 
 they knew not how to teach Rubato. 
 
 1 May I warn the reader once again to be careful, in giving the Rubato- Always keep 
 inflections shown in these examples, to render them all subtly — not as miScid our- 
 gross, noticeable Ritardos and Accellerandos, but as gentle curves, quite pose, during 
 unnoticeable as such except to the earnestly analysing ear. See page 74 ?^?f to "^ n ~ 
 Text, and page 99 Note.
 
 106 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Hence, later on, when her natural musical feeling prompted 
 her to cut herself adrift from the miserable straight-laced- 
 ness of her schooling, she had no knowledge or experience 
 to guide her. All I had to do in her case was to make 
 
 clear the process really required, and that instead of a pause 
 on the first note alone, a soft time-curve was required, dis- 
 tributed over the whole bar; and immediately, in place of 
 her previous caricature of the Nocturne (or "affected read- 
 ing" as the Music-critic usually characterises any fault he 
 is unable exactly to diagnose) she gave me the passage with 
 due expression of the feeling which she had quite well per- 
 ceived, but which she had been unable to express before, 
 purely owing to her ignorance of the required process. 
 
 Here again, the moral is, that everyone should be taught 
 while still young enough to learn things easily, and should 
 be taught everything by direct, logical explanation of the 
 means of obtaining correct expression. Only too often is 
 the latent feeling and perception of a pupil left unexpressed, 
 solely owing to such interpretative-technical deficiencies as 
 we have just discussed.
 
 SECTION IV 
 
 CONCERNING CERTAIN DETAILS IN THE APPLICA- 
 TION OF TONE-INFLECTION AND THE BEARING 
 OF TOUCH-TEACHING AND FINGERING, ETC., ON 
 INTERPRETATION. 
 
 I have here expatiated at such length on the subject of Tk» impor- 
 Rubato, and its application in Interpretation, because I ?^ e d of Ru T 
 have found that there is generally such extreme vagueness detract from 
 and misunderstanding with regard to these facts. But while the impor- 
 Rubato is, as I have shown, such an indispensable factor tanceoftone 
 in Interpretation, and calls for so much careful and detailed ^,^5^ 
 attention, this must not lead us to minimise the importance 
 of other factors, such as those of Tone-contrast (those of 
 Quantity as well as those of Quality), and those contrasts 
 of Duration, which, whether obtained by finger or foot, 
 are also, alas, so often lamentably overlooked — a point 
 upon which I shall have more to say presently, under 
 Pedalling. 
 
 The necessity for the application of all such color-effects Lidt of tonc * 
 is patent to everyone who has the least claim to a musical va ? et * 1 ? d n 
 ear. It is surprising, however, how frequently this im- by the 
 perative requirement of tone-inflection is, nevertheless, teacher. 
 overlooked by the inexperienced teacher, and this, although he 
 may be quite well aware of its importance! True, 
 
 he hears (or sometimes does not hear!) that his pupil's 
 performance is appallingly unmusical — sometimes enough 
 to make him almost shriek with the downright misery of 
 it — and the more musical he is himself, the greater the 
 
 107
 
 accurate 
 listening and 
 analysing 
 
 108 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 misery for him. Yet he fails to observe the cause of his 
 misery, fails to notice that his pupil's performance is either 
 a mere stumbling, straight line of tone — totally devoid of 
 any inflections; or else that it is far worse, and is strewn 
 all over with supposed details of "expression," which are 
 all diametrically opposed to musical sense. 
 
 I find many a supposed teacher continually experiencing 
 this kind of torture without stirring a limb to save himself, 
 or making any attempt to stave off at least some of this 
 very real and intense suffering, but instead, accepting the 
 situation "as one of the inevitable drawbacks of our pro- 
 fession!" 
 Need of Of course, I should not say he "listens." Indeed, 
 
 he does not listen any better than his pupil does; that is 
 precisely where all the trouble begins, he merely "hears." 
 again demon- He hears sufficiently to make him sick at heart, but he 
 8trmted * does not "listen" — does not analyse in the least what he 
 is hearing. 
 
 Not to notice that the source of his discomfort may 
 possibly be traced to the absence of any Rubato-inflections 
 is perhaps excusable in a measure, since these inflections 
 are comparatively subtle, and he may have been brought 
 up in the notion that such devices must not be taught, are 
 really "very sinful," and "only rarely" to be applied, and 
 still more rarely so by children, and never in the music of 
 a composer who has been dead for more than fifty years! 
 But with regard to tone-inflections the case is different. 
 Doubtless his up-bringing has insisted on the necessity of 
 these, even with children, so there is really no excuse for 
 his putting up with prison-like, brick walls of dull, un- 
 inflected sound, when perhaps, after all, only a little effort 
 is required from him, to enable the hitherto "unmusical" 
 pupil to supply the needful tone-inflections, and to apply
 
 CONCERNING TONE-INFLECTION, ETC. 
 
 109 
 
 these correctly, thanks to a proper teaching of the analysis 
 of Music, and of Touch. The Means and Laws of tone- 
 inflection when thus taught, renders the teaching of Music 
 no longer an extreme misery to the teacher, but an extreme 
 delight to him, as it should be . . . not to speak of the 
 revelation it will be to his pupils! 
 
 In this connection there is another point which is often Want of true 
 overlooked by teachers. They do hear that the pupil is not pp is mo8tl y 
 giving sufficient variety of tone, but they try to make the d e n C i ency in 
 correction at the wrong end. They try to insist on more tone coloring, 
 for the accents and the fortes, whereas, all the time, the 
 fault lies in the fact that the pupils never get within measur- 
 able distance of a true piano, not to speak of pianissimo! 
 For instance, they will begin the "Moonlight" Sonata 
 nearer mf than pp, thus : — 
 
 (The lecturer here played a few bars from the opening of Beethoven's Op. 27 
 in this way, and then with the correction; also he gave the Episode of 
 Chopin's D flat Prelude, with its long crescendo from pp, in further 
 illustration of this point.) 
 
 Or they play their accompaniments far too loudly. Let 
 me give you a few bars from Schumann's Concertstuck in 
 G, illustrating this point, thus: 
 
 Example 68. 
 
 (ppp not v\f) 
 
 Rvbato: unpoAetttno accel.
 
 110 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 After this it will not surprise you when I assert that 
 deficiency in tone-coloring is mostly due to lack of low 
 tints. 
 
 When you give your next lesson, just bear in mind what 
 I have said, and you will find that your pupils are every- 
 where lavishly throwing their chances away, and are wasting 
 tone, right and left! Say that a phrase comes out dull 
 and uninteresting (even with a pupil who is trying to "scan" 
 his phrases properly) ; in most cases you will find the fault 
 is, that the pupil begins the phrase with as much tone as he 
 should reserve for its climax. 
 
 Make him cut away the tone at the beginning of the 
 phrase, and at once the phrase will stand out clear as a 
 cameo. 1 
 After a long Another fault of tone-balance, frequent in passages con- 
 note, the sisting of notes of different lengths, is, after a long note 
 continuation , ° ' ' . . 
 
 of the same m sucn a passage, to commence the continuation with the 
 
 phrase is same tone that was given to the last long note. In 
 
 often played p r0 perly playing such continuation, we should take care to 
 give the note which starts the continuation with no more tone 
 (or hardly more tone) than the last preceding long note is 
 actually heard to give just before that continuation is due; 
 otherwise the beginning of the continuation will inevitably 
 sound like the beginning of a new phrase, and therefore 
 "out of focus." 2 
 
 Cut away the l A similar fault is apt to occur when trying to make a melody "stand 
 tone to ren- out" above its accompaniment, or when one note of a chord has to be 
 der certain sounded more strongly than the others. Mistakenly, the player tries 
 note8 # to give extra tone to these notes, instead of cutting away the tone of the 
 
 prominent thers, and thus leaving the unsubdued notes prominent. 
 
 1 Remember, the tone of the long note decreases from the moment of 
 
 its percussion, onwards. See also Section III, page 75, re the treatment 
 
 of passages consisting of notes of unequal lengths.
 
 CONCERNING TONE-INFLECTION, ETC. Ill 
 
 Let me give you an illustration or two on this point: 
 Example 69 From the Adagio of the "Path&ique" Sonata. 
 
 ^Incorrect 
 
 poco rubato 
 
 -*tffwt*- 
 
 In the above example the notes marked with a cross must not be 
 played with the same full tone as that given to the last preceding long note. 
 
 Example 70 From Chopin's Funeral March. 
 
 jft fr(>) not.K>L 
 
 X 
 
 Example 71. 
 
 From Chopin's Nocturne in F sharp minor. 
 
 J>.-J£... -A_ JL_! £JP 
 
 _A_ JL_1 
 
 Rubato: unpocdiettinoacoA
 
 112 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 .ritard. 
 
 The indi- 
 vidualization 
 and balance 
 of the con- 
 stituent 
 notes of 
 chords, oc- 
 taves, etc. 
 
 Another point with regard to tone-coloring, which re- 
 quires constant judgement, is the balancing of the tone in 
 chords, etc., — that is, the balancing of the tone of the 
 several notes constituting each separate chord. 1 
 
 Much variety of coloring is available by thus giving 
 greater or less prominence to the upper part, or lower part, 
 or inside notes of chords, etc. Every true artist, in fact, 
 unconsciously chooses the color for every note of every 
 chord he plays. 
 
 Even in the case of a single octave, three quite distinct 
 colorings can be given in this way; we can either make (a) 
 
 1 Each note of every chord must indeed be meant as accurately as the 
 note-details of every finger-passage. Do not play a chord as a lump of 
 sound with the arm "dabbed" down upon the key-board, but instead, 
 think of the three or four constituent sounds and fingers of each chord. 
 Will the exact sound of each constituent note of each chord, its exact 
 quantity and quality of tone, and its precise duration in each case. Chord 
 passages, after all, are always "finger-passages" — in this sense, that the 
 requisite fingers have to be called upon to do their work individually, 
 each one in each chord, etc. 
 
 In this connection, the following is good exercise: hold a chord at key- 
 surface level firmly (but loosely) by means of finger-force only, and rotate 
 the forearm in the meantime both ways a few times, doing this guite freely 
 while thus keeping hold of all the notes of the chord by the individual 
 fingers — a capital " finger-individualization " study. See also: Relaxa- 
 tion Studies," pp. 102 and 120, for similar exercises.
 
 CONCERNING TONE-INFLECTION, ETC. 
 
 113 
 
 the upper note prominent, or (b) the lower note prominent, 
 or (c) can give both with equal tone-amount; and octave 
 passages, when thus differently colored, have quite a differ- 
 ent effect, musically. 
 
 (This was illustrated.) 
 
 To show you how much depends upon such means of 
 coloring in octaves, etc., and the subtle effects thus avail- 
 able, I will play a few bars from the slow movement of 
 Beethoven's Sonata in E flat, Op. 27. 
 
 I will play the octaves in the right hand, at first with 
 equal tone for both the notes of the octave, then with the 
 lower note more prominent, and then with the upper note 
 more sung: 
 
 Example 72a. 
 
 Adagio co n express. 
 
 I will now play you as another example of similar color- 
 ing, the coda of Debussy's "Reflets dans l'eau." The last 
 two lines of this played with " solid" color, would to my 
 mind sound horrible. I prefer to play the right-hand part 
 quite ppp, and in the left-hand the lowest note of the low 
 chords more prominently — say mp, the upper notes pp; 
 while the lowest note of the upper (trebled) accompanying
 
 114 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 melody should again be rather prominent. You remember 
 the passage: 
 
 Example 72b. 1 
 
 Lent (dansune sonorite harmonieuse ethiniaine) 
 
 Hardly any two successive harmonies are played alike, 
 in this sense, by a true artist or musical person — his sense 
 of harmonic values and progressions will unconsciously guide 
 him constantly to make subtle variations of tone-balance of 
 the constituent notes of each chord or harmony. 
 
 As an example of such varied chord-coloring, I will play 
 you the E minor Prelude of Chopin. Notice how the tone- 
 balance in the soft accompanying chords must be con- 
 stantly varied, by prominentising the interesting features 
 
 1 By kind permission of MM. Durand et fils, Paris, publishers and 
 proprietors.
 
 CONCERNING TONE-INFLECTION, ETC. 115 
 
 of its harmonic progressions. This should be done, of 
 course, so slightly and subtly as not to draw attention to 
 this means of expression, as such. But I may have to 
 exaggerate the point here, slightly, so as to make it plain 
 to you. 
 
 (The lecturer here illustrated the Prelude in question.) 
 
 Still another point, often lost sight of by average players, Lcss force 
 sometimes even by those aspiring to the artist-status is, ££?£ 
 that far less force is required for the production of the high high notes 
 notes of the instrument, than that necessary to produce the than the low 
 middle or lower sounds. Such players fail to notice that n ? tes of the 
 the same force which will produce merely a pleasant forte 
 in the bass of the piano, will produce a hideous shriek 
 when applied to the high treble notes. 
 
 To convince the student on this point, show him how 
 long and thick are the lower strings, and how thin and very 
 short are the higher ones — the sounding part of the highest 
 strings is only about two inches long! Hence, in playing a 
 rising passage, which is meant to be of even tone, we must 
 really play with a decrescendo of force, otherwise the highest 
 notes will be of undue tone- value. 1 
 
 Under "Rubato" we saw how we could give emphasis Tk* ton* 1 
 to single notes by a slight "hanging round" them as to *?* . smg 
 Time — that is, by "agoggic" or time-accents, given either notes should 
 before the sounding oTsuch notes, or after sounding them, not lead to 
 We must however, as a rule, guard against a tendency tasteless 
 always to give such Rubato-accents just because we happen accent8 . 
 to wish to make the notes of a melody tonally prominent in 
 passages where the accompaniment is played by the same 
 
 1 Obviously, it requires far less force to move a thin string, only two 
 inches in length, than to move the mass of a thick one, some six feet in 
 length.
 
 116 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 hand. This constitutes a fault in taste (or technique) 
 often met with. Remember, to add a rubato leaning to 
 notes already glaringly emphasized by their tonal contrast 
 to the accompaniment is only likely to lead to a very 
 mawkish effect. Therefore, do not play Chopin's A flat 
 Study thus: — 
 
 Example 73a. 
 
 But thus: 
 
 Example 736. 
 
 Here the flow of semiquavers (sixteenth notes) should 
 remain quite uninterrupted, in spite of the sounding of the 
 fcma%-prominent melody notes and bass notes. 
 
 There is no difficulty in doing this, provided the laws as 
 to the rotational action of the Forearm are obeyed — and 
 provided, that the notes of the accompaniment are played 
 with those keys partially lowered before their actual final 
 swing-down in the act of tone-production. 1 
 
 1 See the author's "Some Commentaries on Pianoforte Playing," 
 (Longmans), and " The Forearm Rotation Principle " (Williams) .
 
 THE TEACHING OF TECHNIQUE 117 
 
 Now, with regard to the teaching of the wherewithall of The bearing 
 Tone-contrasts — the teaching of Touch, Agility, Key- ? £ th 'J eac ^" 
 
 . , , . . ing of 1 ouch, 
 
 treatment, or whatever term you may prefer for this part etc#f upon 
 of the subject, I need not go into these matters here, as I the teaching 
 have been sufficiently explicit about them elsewhere — and of Inter - 
 at great length! It goes without saying, that during the pre 
 teaching of Interpretation, I insist that it is necessary all 
 the time to pay close attention, and to render the minutest 
 obedience to those laws of key-treatment and laws of mus- 
 cular action and inaction, which have been formulated in 
 my various books on Technique and Touch. 1 
 
 Unless the teacher is fully alive to the bearing of these Command 
 Laws, — and this, during every minute of his teaching hours, ove f uiter- 
 he is not "teaching" Pianoforte-playing at all, in the true implies com- 
 sense of that word; for he is certainly not " helping his mand over 
 pupils to learn," but is merely telling them to learn, which is ted" 1 "* 1 
 a totally different thing. 
 
 The truly conscientious teacher indeed not only diagnoses Obedience 
 every detail of Rubato-inflection, but diagnoses also every to the laws 
 fault of Tone-inflection, every fault in duration, every sign technique 
 of weakness as regards Agility; and, whenever any of these must con- 
 faults are traceable to disobedience to the Laws of Touch, stantlybe 
 he, in each and every case, explains these laws and processes maB 
 to the pupil — while taking care in the meantime that the 
 immediate musical purpose is never lost sight of. This he 
 does, so that the pupil himself may learn to know how to 
 correct such faults directly in the future — if he will but 
 
 1 Works which had been overdue for a century or more; therefore 
 the reader is here referred to the author's "Act of Touch," to the School 
 book, "First Principles," and to their Supplement: "Some Commen- 
 taries on Pianoforte Playing" (Longmans). Also: " Relaxation Studies" 
 (Bosworth); "A Child's First Steps," and "The Forearm Rotation 
 Principle," etc. (Joseph Williams, and the Boston Music Co.).
 
 118 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 take the trouble to do so. In this way the pupil gradually 
 learns how every inflection and gradation of Tone and 
 Duration, and Speed-requirement is physically producible, 
 and producible with absolute certainty. 
 
 In this year of grace, in this country at least, 1 where such 
 "direct" teachings have already become practically com- 
 pulsory through public opinion, it is unnecessary to point 
 out that this "direct" teaching of the essentials of Key- 
 treatment is not only as important to the Pianist-student as 
 the teaching of Interpretation and Music, but that it is 
 really far more important to him. In this respect even 
 Germany, which has stood still for so many years, com- 
 placently and with such thoroughness insisting on the 
 interminable exercise-grinding and other monumental blun- 
 ders of certain of her schools, even Germany is at last 
 awakening. As I have already pointed out elsewhere, 2 
 healthily revolutionary writers there are now trying, with 
 trenchant pen, to bring their country up-to-date and to her 
 senses with regard to more common-sense methods of 
 teaching Technique and Touch. These German teachings, 
 although still tentative and erroneous in a measure, are at 
 least similar in tendency to those of ours, now so long estab- 
 lished and accepted here in England and elsewhere. 3 
 
 1 In Great Britain. 
 
 1 See " Some Commentaries on Pianoforte Playing." 
 Knowledge * Even with the beginner, even with the child, must these teachings of 
 
 of the laws Touch or Technique be insisted upon. It is easier to learn aright in the 
 of touch and first stages than later on, when various preconceptions and wrong habits 
 technique f m i nc l and body prove to be severe stumbling blocks and barriers 
 necessary difficult to surmount. 
 
 kIIT ° * Harm only will result from practice unless the beginner understands 
 
 ^"^ ' at least the laws as to the key itself. For instance, he must understand 
 
 that he can only direct and produce tone by a careful "aiming" of the 
 
 key itself — each time for each note; that key-speed is tone, and that no
 
 THE TEACHING OF TECHNIQUE 119 
 
 As with the beginner, so with the advanced performer, 
 while you are teaching the interpretation of Music, you 
 must meanwhile always insist on an accurate obedience to 
 all the laws of Touch, for on such obedience does accu- 
 racy in Interpretation intimately depend. 
 
 True, later on in the student's and artist's work, many of Points as to 
 these laws of Touch-procedure require but little reminder, tot ? c . re ~ 
 
 * * quiring con- 
 
 provided they have been thoroughly mastered ; that is, pro- st ant re- 
 vided the correct actions have been made into unshakable minder, 
 habits. But there are always some particular points which 
 nevertheless require constant reminder, even with the best 
 players; and an unremittingly close and unswerving atten- 
 tion is therefore here required from the teacher, pupil, and 
 artist. 
 
 Let me go over these points; there are four such that seem 
 to stand out beyond all others; two are concerned with the 
 key itself, and two with the muscular apparatus. 
 
 With regard to the key: first, during performance, as I 
 have just said, we must insist on that constant observation 
 of key-resistance (before and especially during the key's 
 descent) without which aspect of attention we cannot arrive 
 anywhere near an accurate expression (or presentation) 
 of what we may feel or see musically. With regard 
 
 further tone can be produced, once the hopper has fulfilled its mission; 
 i.e., that sounds must be made through a purposed, felt and carefully- 
 directed key-motion, each one accurately timed. Even points of mere 
 elementary knowledge such as these will save him years of time, otherwise 
 wasted in the unlearning of wrong habits. Moreover, he cannot 
 
 get much further, unless he also has some notion as to the function of 
 Armweight, and its almost complete elision between the successive tone- 
 makings; and he must, besides this, have a very solid understanding of 
 the function of Forearm Rotation, and how constant changes in such 
 rotary-activity are required of him — required indeed for each note, even 
 when he grapples with his first five finger exercise.
 
 120 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 to the key: secondly, we must constantly insist on accuracy 
 in "aiming" each key-descent; that is, we must insist on 
 accuracy in timing the completion of each key-descent, and 
 without which aspect of attention, again, we shall lose all 
 accuracy of expression, and also all Agility-ease, and control 
 over Duration. 1 
 
 With regard to the muscular problem, the whole here 
 resolves itself ultimately into freedom of action, and the two 
 points which for this reason imperatively demand constant 
 attention and reminder are: first, insistance on a real free- 
 dom of the whole arm in all passages requiring Weight 
 during the moment of tone production, and the real elision 
 of all "down-arm" force (and excessive weight) between 
 the successive acts of tone production — that insistence 
 upon the freely-poised arm, without which, true Agility 
 ever remains impossible. Secondly, insistence on the al- 
 ways carefully applied Forearm-rotatory actions, inaccuracy 
 in which respect will vitiate practically every note we play. 
 Musical and Here I must re-iterate once again the warning which I 
 t *fJ u *'~ have so often urgently insisted upon, that in learning and 
 must never teaching the wherewithal of Technique or Touch, the 
 be allowed purpose of such learning must never be lost sight of for a 
 to flag, while momen t.2 At the Piano, the pupil must never, even for a 
 tionto the ' moment, be allowed to think of a muscular action (however 
 details of necessary) apart from the musical sense of the notes he is 
 muscular sounding. The necessary trend of the mind must always 
 ue * on " be: (a) "Musical sense tells me this note must sound then, 
 and thus"; and (b) " I must be sure to feel the resistance of the 
 key during its down-movement so that I shall be able to give 
 
 1 Vide "Act of Touch" and "First Principles" for the various warn- 
 ings given under this head, especially pages 125 and 126 of the last-named 
 work; also " Child's First Steps " pages 2 and 19. 
 
 * We need not think of timing the beginning of the act of key-descent, 
 but we must think of timing key-descent to end at the right moment.
 
 THE TEACHING OP FINGERING 121 
 
 the required tone, rightly timed " ; and finally, (c) " the mus- 
 cular requirements are such-and-such to enable me to suc- 
 ceed in this." That is, the mental impetus is in this order: 
 "Time-spot — Tone-kind — Key-need — Muscular-fulfil- 
 ment." It is but one flash of thought, thus built up. In 
 the end, Musical-feeling and Intelligence must auto- 
 matically prompt the taking of all these precautions, and it 
 seems but one act of consciousness — this giving oneself up 
 to musical feeling, emotion, rhythmical impulse and key 
 requirements. Nevertheless, timing and feeling can 
 
 never become an automatic act. It is always the act of 
 consciousness itself which makes Music through these, and 
 there is no real music without such, as there is no act of 
 conscious thought without a timing of it. See also, pp. 33 
 Text, 41 Note, 57 Text, and Section VI. 
 
 Closely connected with the question of Touch itself is The bearing 
 that of fingering. The older, and now out-of-date of f j n 8 erin s 
 
 on Interpre- 
 
 teachers of course placed an absurdly high value on this tation, and 
 department of their work, and in fact seemed to rely on it the learning 
 as a cure for all ills — and some modern artists still exhibit of lts laws * 
 the same failing. Granted, when your technique is ineffi- 
 cient, or your knowledge of its Laws is inadequate, that 
 choice of fingering assumes a vast importance, since it then 
 often means the difference between barely managing to 
 negotiate a passage, and not being able to encompass it at 
 all. With proper teaching, however, and knowledge of the 
 physical causes which render a passage "difficult" or the 
 reverse, choice of fingering is found to become a matter of 
 quite secondary importance, since a far greater number of 
 optional fingerings become practicable where the technical 
 habits are good. I have noted the main laws of fin- 
 gering in my "Relaxation Studies," and in the special
 
 122 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Fingering, 
 also, must 
 not be 
 " crammed." 
 
 Its proper 
 teaching. 
 
 The memor- 
 ising of 
 fingering. 
 
 excerpt from that book, published separately. 1 I need 
 not therefore go into these matters here, except to refer 
 to one point there noted, and that is, that great care 
 must be exercised in Fingering as everywhere else, to 
 guard against a mere cramming of "things," in place of a 
 true teaching of abiding principles, and the nature of the 
 facts concerned. Thus, in merely jotting down the 
 
 required fingering for the pupil without comment or expla- 
 nation, you are not giving him any real education; it is of 
 no permanent value to the pupil to tell him merely to "put 
 the thumb here/' or "the fifth finger there." 
 
 No, instead of merely writing down the fingering of a 
 passage, you must always explain why it is chosen, and how 
 the choice is arrived at. The main principle which you 
 must here make clear to your pupil, is, that choice of fin- 
 gering consists in selecting such finger-groups which will most 
 easily lie over the piano-keys concerned, while at the same 
 time giving due consideration to the necessity of joining 
 such fingering-groups each one to the next or preceding 
 one, by means of the cementing action provided by the 
 passing-over or under of the thumb and other fingers. 
 
 The pupil will have no difficulty in remembering his finger- 
 ings, once he grasps the fact, that it is not this finger or 
 that finger which matters, but that it is always a finger- 
 group which is in question — either a complete group or an 
 incomplete one. In a word, the act of memorising finger- 
 ing consists in associating a certain set of fingers with a 
 certain set of notes ; this precisely defines the process, which 
 is therefore an act of mental association like every other 
 form of memorising. 
 
 Besides thus rendering it easy for the pupil to memorise 
 fingerings, and thus to speed-up the learning of passages, 
 1 "Fingering and Pedalling," London, Bosworth and Co.
 
 THE TEACHING OF FINGERING 123 
 
 such rational teaching will at the same time ensure his 
 learning how to set about the choice of fingering for 
 himself. This is an important point, since it is far more 
 easy to choose satisfactory fingering for oneself than to 
 have this done by anyone else — however expert the editor 
 or teacher. Each individual hand has its own idiosyn- 
 cracies; therefore, fingering chosen by another person 
 cannot be so appropriate as that of one's own choice, always 
 provided, of course, that one has acquired the requisite 
 mastery over this subject. 
 
 For instance, in teaching the scale fingerings, do not tell 
 your pupil where the thumb or other separate finger has 
 to go, but at once show him that all scales consist of two 
 groups of fingerings, a long one and a short one — the actual 
 lie of these two groups being determined for each particular 
 scale by the position of the black keys, and by the necessity 
 of choosing the easiest positions for turning the thumb 
 under, etc. 
 
 In the diatonic scale, for instance, we have the two groups : 
 
 123 and 1234, these two sets of finger-groups being then 
 mentally (and tonally) connected with the sets of three or 
 four notes which they respectively cover, in each scale, 
 the fingering and the notes of the scale are thus simul- 
 taneously memorised. 1 
 
 1 I consider it best to finger Double Thirds scales similarly in two 
 
 i 2345 ( 345 
 
 groups, a long one and a short one; viz.: R. H. J and ) OQ . . 
 
 See "Double Thirds scales, their fingering and mastery" (Joseph Wil- 
 liams), where I have carried out this principle. 
 
 The repeated thumb presents no difficulty, unless one suffers from 
 the vicious habit of "key-bedding;" and legato is less imperfect with 
 this fingering than with the old-fashioned three finger-groups in one. 
 octave.
 
 124 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 (The lecturer here illustrated this point, by taking the scale of E flat, and 
 showing where the two finger-groups occur in this scale, the place depending 
 not on the key-note, but on the position of the black keys relatively to the 
 white ones). 
 
 By thus learning where the whole finger-group each time 
 lies over the key-board, we necessarily also learn the place 
 for each individual finger. To try to learn fingering in 
 
 the opposite way — from the other end, as separate fingers 
 first — is impracticable, and in any case we shall certainly 
 not succeed in remembering where such separated fingers 
 occur, until we do notice where the complete finger-note- 
 group lies.
 
 SECTION V 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 
 
 We will now pass on to another matter which is dis- 
 gracefully neglected by the average teacher and pianist, I 
 refer to the properly directed use of the Damper Pedal. 
 
 This neglect no doubt arises in the first instance from a just as close 
 totally wrong outlook as regards the Piano itself. Those atte ntion 
 who thus misuse Or neglect the Pedal evidently consider foJJJ^fo, 
 "Pedalling" to be something apart, separate and distinct finger, 
 from Piano-playing itself, instead of recognising the fact 
 that Piano-playing can only be successfully accomplished, 
 provided we superintend the doings of our right foot just 
 as minutely — and constantly — as we must the doings of 
 our fingers at the keyboard. 
 
 It is indeed no exaggeration to say that most of the Most pedal- 
 pedalling one hears, even from advanced players (aye, even ■*! * m ^ M 
 from concert-pianists) is just about as bad as are the smears 
 and blotches which a child makes in its first attempts to 
 paint a picture. While we are still mere babies, most of 
 
 us, however, have sufficient sense to feel deeply disgusted, 
 mortified and humiliated, when we see the color-messes 
 which result from our well-meant, hard striving to make 
 "a pretty picture." 
 
 Nevertheless, here at the Piano, we have fully grown-up 
 people, sometimes even quite musically gifted, who in spite 
 of all this, quite cheerfully misuse their piano exactly as 
 these children do their brush, and make a very quagmire of 
 sound, and notice nothing amiss — such is the force of habit. 
 
 125
 
 126 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 I have repeated passages to artist-pupils and concert- 
 players, pedalled precisely as they have pedalled them — 
 with every vestige of phrasing completely wiped out by 
 the pedal, in spite of a beautiful display of rising hands, 
 etc.; and it has been difficult to make them believe they 
 could have shown themselves so unmusical. 1 
 Examples of For instance, I have heard them pedal the A flat Waltz 
 b *?^! dgood of Chopin (Op. 42) thus (see a, Exp. 74), instead of doing 
 so properly in one of the alternate ways (see 6, c, and d, 
 Exp. 74) : 
 
 pedalling. 
 
 Example 74. 
 
 aywrong £. 
 
 d) 21 
 ^+(for the pp repetition of this theme ) 
 
 Not enough 
 to feel the 
 breaks be- 
 tween the 
 phrasings 
 clearly, one 
 must play 
 them clearly. 
 
 1 As in speech, so also in Music, phrasing always implies a break in the 
 continuity of the legato. You must have commas, etc., in your speech, 
 and you must provide them also at the piano as a breaking of sound- 
 continuity, else your performance will sound like "Flora Finching's" 
 speeches in " Little Dorrit." Many players quite forget this necessity, 
 and mistakenly fancy their phrases to be quite well defined, while all the 
 time they are connecting each new phrase to each preceding one in an 
 unbroken continuity of legato, either by a careless finger, or more often 
 by a careless foot — to the complete obliteration of their phrasing. I 
 have even had such argue with me, that their phrases must be "quite 
 clear'' (in spite of such non-phrasing) because they themselves "feel it 
 quite clearly" — as if the mere fact of realising or feeling a thing 
 sufficed for its expression to others!
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 
 
 127 
 
 Or we hear them pedal a passage with unbroken legato, 
 
 instead of giving life-giving contrasts to it as in Examples 
 
 75 and 76, thus: 1 
 
 From Carnival (Finale). Schumann. 
 Example 75. 
 
 J Nou£ i £ I 
 
 1 A mistake very often made even by advanced players is to continue Inadequacy 
 holding the Pedal far too much, thus making an unbroken legato in place of Pedal- 
 of that ever changing and contrasting variety of Duration required by discontinu- 
 most music. They hold the Pedal wherever and whenever it can be held lt y* 
 without producing actual harmonic cacophony, instead of being guided in 
 its use by the ever-changing and exact duration-needs of each note. 
 
 The wrong outlook is: "can I hold the pedal here?" Whereas the 
 right one is: " can I omit it here?" 
 
 Strict attention to the duration-needs of every note demonstrates 
 how surprisingly often one may and should omit or cut short the Pedal, 
 to the betterment of the piece. 
 
 How pathetic is it, for instance, to hear a concert-player giving a piece, 
 intended to be light and gossamer-like, with delightful lightness and 
 brilliancy of touch, and meanwhile totally ruining the effect of it, and 
 making it sound dull and heavy owing merely to a carelessly continuous 
 legato given to all the underlying harmonies and basses! 
 
 Realize, that a gossamer curtain or piece of lace seems "light" to our 
 eyes simply because of the spaces in its texture — the Mghi-silences in it; 
 and that lightness in musical effect is similarly wrought by the lapses in 
 sound-continuity given to the texture of the music. 
 
 As examples play Chopin's two studies in G flat, and those in F minor 
 and F major, and pedal the bass first in unbroken legato, and then again 
 with as many air-spaces as possible in the harmonies and basses, and 
 realize how infinitely greater is the effectiveness and beauty thus obtained. 
 See Note, page 137.
 
 128 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Example 76 
 Allegro 
 
 From Concertsttick. Schumann. 
 
 b)tA 
 
 (a) Legato, incorrect. (6) Varied, correct. 
 
 Or again, we hear what should be detached chords, draggled 
 along by the pedal, thus: 
 
 From "Moods of a Moment," 1 No. 2. Tobias Matthay. 
 Example 77. 
 
 Slowly 
 
 No doubt, the fault is often due to the fact that even the 
 best of us do so often allow ourselves to play without realty 
 listening to the actual sounds emanating from the instrument, 
 although our musical intentions may be keen enough. 
 
 As I have already said here, a very great deal of unmusical 
 playing arises purely from this very fact; for we may be 
 meaning things, musically, quite meritoriously, but they 
 cannot "arrive " unless we take the very simple and common- 
 sense precaution to listen accurately to what we are doing; 
 
 1 By permission of Messrs. Ascherberg & Co.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 129 
 
 and this applies with redoubled force when it is a question Accuracy in 
 
 Of DURATION. 1 JSlfal *" 
 
 Unless we have our minds constantly fixed (through our me diately 
 physical ears) upon the actual sounds emanating from the upon 
 Piano, we have no inducement to let go either the keys or •ecu**** in 
 the Pedal — or to put this down. 2 A simple cure for in- nmg * 
 
 attentive pedalling is often found, in merely insisting on the 
 passage or whole piece, thus mispedalled, being carefully 
 played through without any pedal whatever; close attention 
 to the actual sounds being insisted upon in the meantime. 
 It often proves to be a most startling revelation to the 
 would-be player, when he thus discovers that till then he 
 had been playing practically without really listening in the 
 least to the actual duration of the notes played! 
 
 Indeed, far too little attention is given to the whole ques- Value of 
 tion of duration. No one has pleaded more vehemently than m * tl0 ?_ 
 
 r contrasts 
 
 I have for close attention to the inexorable need for Tone- insufficiently 
 variety — whether of quality or quantity; but while we are realised, 
 thus attending to this particular requirement, vital as it is, 
 do not let us in the meantime forget the vast contrasts 
 of Expression to be found in contrasts of mere Duration 
 — contrasts extending in compass from the sharpest stacco- 
 tissimo up to the fullest legato or tenuto, and not only thus 
 far, but further; for the contrasts to be obtained from vary- 
 ing degrees of legatissimo (or the overlapping of sounds) are 
 indeed not the least important of this wonderful element 
 of Duration. 3 
 
 1 Remember what I have said re " Listening," pp. 5 and 128-9, etc. 
 
 2 How dismally dry is a singing passage when the pedal is not used 
 as it should be, almost for each note! 
 
 * A good Scarlatti Technique, for instance (in the modern playing of 
 him), depends greatly upon a full appreciation of the required nicety in 
 Duration- values, just as a Chopin Technique so greatly depends on Tone- 
 values, and nicety of Rubato-inflections — and Pedalling.
 
 130 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Gradations 
 of tone and 
 duration 
 contrasted. 
 
 Pedal- 
 duration 
 more im- 
 portant than 
 
 finger-dura- 
 tion. 
 
 Let us now try the effect of a simple succession of sounds, 
 first given with gradations of Tone-quantity only, and sec- 
 ondly, with gradations of Duration only: 
 
 Example 78 
 
 t T T 
 
 7 rT 
 
 tr? 
 
 ? — • 
 
 Tt t ™t t 7~~ 
 
 ■t? 
 
 ~-~ 
 
 T— ? 
 
 T- T ™ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ♦ » » 
 
 PP 
 
 i ♦ » s 
 
 V 
 
 pp 
 
 Example 
 
 i 1 ' 
 
 78 
 
 j, • 
 
 
 — -j/ 
 
 
 
 Notice, that this last example is given without the aid of 
 any Pedalling. As an example of the application of this 
 principle of Duration, see the slow movement from Beetho- 
 ven's Sonata in G, Op. 14, where we have such contrasts 
 beautifully applied and particularly noted by the master 
 himself; notice the carefully planned sequence of the 
 contrasts : 
 
 (The lecturer here played the second movement of this little Sonata, so 
 simple and yet so full of delicate charm when adequately performed.) 
 
 Example 79. • 
 
 , mezzo stacc. ^ ft# 
 
 Really, when one sees how often it is quite overlooked, one 
 feels inclined to assert that variety of Duration is even of 
 greater importance than variety of Tone itself! Again, 
 
 the effects of Foot-duration are even more striking than 
 those of Finger-duration. The sustaining and mellowing 
 of notes by means of the Pedal is an iridescence hardly ever 
 absent in a modern composition. 1 This enhancement of 
 1 See note as to Chopin's pedalling, p. 89, Note.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OP DURATION 131 
 
 the Duration-contrasts by the Pedal, however, is not owing 
 solely to the greater resonance thus obtained, as you might 
 at first suppose. . . . True, a somewhat greater resonance 
 does result when the Pedal is depressed, and for this reason : 
 that when we sound a note with all the dampers raised by 
 the pedal, the sympathetically-inclined higher strings are 
 roused into action, while the lower ones in addition give 
 the sounded note as a harmonic. Listen to the effect of a 
 chord played without pedal, and then with pedal: 
 
 (The lecturer here illustrated this point.) 
 
 The fact of more strings vibrating in sympathy with those Pedal en " 
 sounded does therefore certainly contribute to a greater actu c ^ s ro _ 
 resonance, but besides this it also contributes to an actual longation of 
 prolongation of the sounds, and consequent richness in the sounds. 
 Singing effects. Moreover, when a legato is evolved 
 
 solely by the fingers, it is mostly a case of Legato or Lega- 
 tissimo between single notes, whereas with the pedal any 
 number of notes can be thus rendered legato or legatissimo. 
 
 Although I have noted some of the details of Pedalling 
 in the last chapter of my " Relaxation Studies" 1 I must 
 nevertheless glance at some of the chief points here : 
 
 I think it may be taken for granted, that even the most " Synco- 
 primitive and antediluvian of teachers have now at least pa j e ... 
 
 r , pedalling. 
 
 some hazy sort of notion as to the nature and impor- 
 tance of " syncopated" pedalling. The reason of this re- 
 quirement of course lies in the fact, that if you hold a key 
 down by the finger, and then connect that finger (in legato) 
 to the next note you play, a bad smudge will result if you 
 put the pedal down at the same instant that you depress 
 that next key. For, in a finger passage, you will necessarily 
 be holding up the damper of the first note with one finger, 
 
 1 "Relaxation Studies " (Bosworth & Co.).
 
 132 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 until the very moment when you sound the next note with the 
 Why it is next finger; therefore, if the pedal is made to raise all the 
 required. dampers at that very moment, this will prevent the previous 
 
 note's damper from descending and cutting off the tone, 
 
 hence the smudge and cacophony. 
 
 For example, play a simple scale in both hands, quite 
 
 slowly and legato, and depress the pedal for each note at 
 
 the same moment with the descending keys, and the whole 
 
 passage is badly smudged. 
 
 (Illustrated.) 
 
 Whereas, if you pedal properly (with the pedal moving 
 down after the sounding of the notes, and going up at the 
 sounding of the next ones) you obtain a perfectly clean 
 legato. 
 
 (Illustrated.) 
 
 You see therefore, that in all legato passages, the pedal must 
 rise as the next legato-note goes down — that is, unless the 
 two sounds bear sounding together. In short, the dampers 
 must reach the strings of the notes to be damped, at the very 
 moment that the hammers reach the next notes. That is, 
 the Pedal goes up as the next finger goes down. Now let 
 us hear a chord-progression rendered Legato, solely by 
 foot-duration. I will choose the very simplest progression, 
 see A, Exp. 80 : • — 
 
 Example 80. 
 
 3 4 j: | * 
 
 ?-- — I : 7 ■ ♦ 
 
 Slowly 
 
 oj^. el
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 
 
 133 
 
 But in addition to this unbroken legato we may have Legatissimo 
 considerable gradations of Duration beyond legato, that is, P edaUin g- 
 gradations of Legatissimo — or an overlapping of the sounds, 
 see B, Exp. 80. 
 
 In a large room or hall, the resonance or echo always Echo-res- 
 causes a more or less faint or incipient legato or legatissimo. f 1 ""?* * a 
 
 _ . . i i «. • n • ii hallisdis- 
 
 But the difference in pedal-effect is even then quite marked ^^ from 
 — for the ear distinguishes between the resonance of the pedal 
 room and the resonance of the Piano. Let me play both continuity, 
 effects once again, and you will realise the contrasts better: 
 
 (Illustration repeated.) 
 
 To ensure your realising how this legatissimo effect is 
 produced, and what enormous control it gives us over 
 sound-effect, I will now so exaggerate this "overlapping" 
 that you can hear the pedal stop the previous chord con- 
 siderably after the appearance of the next one — and 
 thus of course producing a slight cacophony for the 
 moment : 
 
 Example 81. 
 
 Quite slowly 
 cresc 
 
 ** LJ-U-U^J- H- U-L ~ JJ 
 
 Numberless examples might be quoted of such " over- Examples of 
 lapping" effects, even extreme ones, but I will select one leg ^^ un ° 
 only — and a very beautiful one — from Schumann's Con- 
 certstiick in G; I have shown the place by an asterisk: —
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 And as an example of that rarer effect, the extreme over- 
 lapping, I quote a few bars from my own "Moods of a 
 Moment," No. 2: — 
 
 Example 83. 1 
 Slowly 
 
 Pedal must 
 rise fully. 
 
 Pedal must 
 remain up 
 long enough. 
 
 In teaching these up-goings of the pedal, be most careful 
 to insist that the pedal is always allowed to rise sufficiently, 
 fully to damp the intended sounds, otherwise they will con- 
 tinue to sound in spite of the pedal having moved up — 
 satisfactorily to the foot, but not to the ear, thus: — 
 
 (The lecturer illustrated this.) 
 
 Also insist on your pupil allowing the pedal to remain up 
 long enough to stop the vibrations of all the strings — includ- 
 ing the lower and more powerful ones, else unwittingly, a 
 so-called "half-damping" effect will result. This means 
 
 1 By permission of Messrs. Ascherberg & Co.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 135 
 
 that the lower strings of the instrument will continue to 
 sound (will remain un-damped) while the upper ones are 
 silenced. 
 
 (Illustrated.) 
 
 Sometimes, however, it happens that this "half-damping" Half-damp- 
 far rather, "half -pedalling") effect is actually required. mge ects * 
 It is required somewhat frequently, not only in modern 
 music, but also in the older masters. Now remember, when 
 you do require such "half -damping," it is obtained by pur- 
 posely giving the otherwise faulty action of the pedal-foot 
 which I have just been warning you against. That is, you 
 must not here leave the pedal up long enough to kill all 
 the previous sounds; to obtain "half -pedalling" effects, 
 the pedal must be allowed to jump up only for an instant, 
 and while this momentary touching of the strings is suf- 
 ficient to stop the sounding of the higher strings, it 
 hardly affects the lower ones at all, and we are thus 
 enabled to play changing harmonies in the upper registers 
 of the instrument, while retaining the sound of a low bass 
 note, etc. 1 
 
 Let me give you a simple example, where a bass is held 
 through such changes of harmonies: 2 
 
 1 The so-called sostenente pedal allows such sustaining of any note or ^ e 
 notes, while not affecting the other portions of the keyboard. This pedal " S° sten ~ 
 is used exactly as in the process of ordinary "syncopated" pedalling. e ** e 
 The device has been applied by several makers; it is of course an extra 
 expense in manufacture, which fact no doubt sufficiently accounts for its 
 not being adopted generally; also, it is inclined to make the touch of the 
 instrument a little more clumsy and uneven for the time being — that is, 
 while this pedal is held down. Musically, however, there would be a 
 distinct advantage in having it on all pianos. 
 
 1 A familiar example is found in the well-known Rachmaninoff 
 Prelude.
 
 136 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Example 84. 
 
 / 
 
 oiuwiy 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PP l 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 a .? 3 
 A^— ' 
 
 P A 
 
 _A_ 
 
 A 
 
 
 I 
 
 Half- 
 pedalling 
 applied to 
 whole 
 chords. 
 
 The A A_ mark in the Pedal line is meant to suggest the momen- 
 tary rising action of the foot in those places — the " half-damping " effect. 
 
 Whole chords, low down, may also be somewhat similarly 
 "half -damped;" only a small remainder of the full sustaining 
 power being thus left after a strong percussion. It is rather a 
 striking effect, but only rarely applicable. Liszt's Sonata 
 in B minor offers us a striking instance: 
 
 Example 85. 
 
 
 
 1 t 
 
 •^ — ♦ 
 
 ♦ * 
 
 
 **— 
 
 — -£. t 
 
 ( 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 •0 'Pesante 
 
 a 11 ' * 
 
 1 1 
 
 ? » 
 
 t f 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 §. & # 
 
 * ti: 
 
 
 u 
 
 Ȥ. " 
 
 SI 
 
 £A_A_li> A A_l 2L-kJ ^_jL_J M I 
 
 Cessation of 
 sound as a 
 form of 
 emphasis. 
 
 Another point as to Duration, which I find is so often 
 overlooked both by players and teachers, is the fact that 
 we can produce an actual emphasis by making a large body 
 of sound cease accurately and sharply on a beat or pulse. 
 I mean, that we can call attention to a pulse-place (and 
 thus give it emphasis) if, after sounding and holding a strong 
 chord with the pedal, we release it quite suddenly, and
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 
 
 137 
 
 precisely on such pulse. Take for instance, a final chord, 
 thus: 
 
 Example 86. 
 
 We also employ this device of detachment as a form of em- 
 phasis in ordinary speech at times, when we wish to be par- 
 ticularly assertive; for instance, instead of gliding over 
 the phrase " NowOniindGyouGdoOthisO " we ejaculate: 
 "Now! mind — you — do — this!" . . . We do not legato 
 the ejaculation "Lookoutacariscoming," but we empha- 
 sise it by a staccato "Look-out!" from the rest of the 
 shriek. 1 
 
 To show you how passages can be enhanced in their 
 emphasis by such cutting short of the note-durations, I 
 will give you the first entries of the Solo Piano in several of 
 the Concertos — passages meant to be as emphatic and as- 
 sertive as possible. I will first play them Pedal-legato, and 
 you will see how ineffective they are thus, and I will then 
 play them with the proper detached emphasis — by judicious 
 raising of the Pedal, thus : 
 
 1 Mozart said, "Silence is the greatest effect in Music." Indeed, he 
 well knew the value not only of Duration-varieties, but the value of 
 rests. We, now-a-days, hardly ever have the courage to wait a bar or 
 two in complete, striking silence, to enable the ear to look forward to the 
 next sound!
 
 138 
 
 Example 87 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 From Schumann's Concerto. 
 
 f JP »-jff?Jlf^f 
 
 •"f^r* 
 
 
 
 j « rt ■ 
 
 
 
 Ail 
 
 If 4 
 
 tV 
 
 
 VJL^. 
 
 AW:- /» A 
 
 A A 
 
 A A 
 
 A 
 
 A P P 
 
 .P\ 
 
 From Grieg's Concerto.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 139 
 
 From Rubinstein's D minor Concerto. 
 
 Example 89. 
 
 Not: £ 
 
 From A. C. Mackenzie's "Scottish Concerto." 1 
 
 Example 90. 
 
 T%us:£ /\_l £AAA_J £ 
 
 Not£. I 
 
 ±J £J 3 P I 
 
 1 By kind permission of the composer.
 
 140 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 )P P P P tP '}P P P 
 
 Not: P I 
 
 P—liP I PAP i £j>£_l P-AP-J PjlPa*Pa> 
 
 Not: P A h 
 
 Example 91. 
 
 From Liszt's Concerto in E flat. 
 
 Thus: P-i P- 
 JVbfc lUa.e ten. 
 
 J PAPA PA P I P. 
 
 I P 
 
 (as usually flayed)
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 141 
 
 £J PA P-\ P 
 
 P I P P P 
 \P—i P 
 
 Indeed, quite an extraordinary number of distinct effects 
 can be produced, simply by careful foot-cessations, if only 
 we give the requisite study to this important matter which 
 it so urgently needs, and closely attend — and listen — to 
 Duration all the time we are playing and studying, and are 
 Teaching. 1 
 
 Let me give you a few further examples bearing on these 
 points. For varieties of short basses: 
 
 Example 92. 
 
 From D flat Waltz, Chopin. 
 
 ■JP fctz ^7=] 
 
 
 
 
 \prftff\ 
 
 f-' fr 
 
 TSyr 
 
 3 ' ' '. '..!..' 
 
 ■■4*&=- 
 
 vr 
 
 rf- 
 
 
 
 etc. 
 
 
 
 
 * »••--■• 
 
 
 
 
 ELagt £-^ ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Thus: JLj 
 Not:. P- 
 
 JP— 
 
 Pu 
 
 JiL_ 
 
 Jp- 
 
 PJ 
 
 J.£_ 
 
 £J 
 
 Imperative 
 to listen 
 accurately 
 and con- 
 stantly to 
 duration. 
 
 Various 
 additional 
 pedalling 
 examples. 
 
 1 While it is not accurate to assert (as has been done by an enthusiast 
 on his first beginning to realise the potency of Pedalling) that "Seventy- 
 five per cent of good playing is correct pedalling," it is imperative to 
 recognise that bad pedalling (and inaccuracy in Duration-values generally) 
 will indeed only too easily ruin "75%" — and much more — of ones 
 playing!
 
 142 
 
 Example 93. 
 
 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 From F minor Study, Chopin. 
 
 To give the "feathery" effect to the little arpeggio in the 
 
 right hand: 
 
 From Beethoven's Rondo in G. 
 Example 94.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 143 
 
 As examples of "half-pedalling" or " half -damping" : 
 
 From G minor Ballade, Chopin. 
 
 Example 95. 
 
 Remember the Note as to Chopin's pedalling, page 89 ! 
 
 Example 96a. 
 Andante 
 
 From Albumblad in B-flat, Grieg. 
 ritard. 
 
 Jwi
 
 144 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 And from the same little piece : 
 
 Example 966. 
 
 t> l £ A- 
 
 As an example of many similar half-pedalling effects re- 
 quired in Brahms: 
 
 Episode from Rhapsody in G minor, Brahms. 
 
 Example 97a. 
 
 m.g. 
 
 'J * ■ , '| I J < ■ , < 
 
 t L 
 
 Not £. I nor £-J 
 
 The impressive effect of this passage would be lost were the Bass ped- 
 alled legato. Sustaining the pedal to the third beat would still sound 
 clumsy; hence the only solution is to " half-pedal" at the second beat, and 
 to make a complete break before the fourth beat, as notated.
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 145 
 
 Coda from the same Rhapsody. 
 
 Example 976. 
 
 A_J A_J A A A A. 
 
 £} £-A 
 
 Chopin also well understood this effect : 
 
 From Coda of Prelude in A flat, Chopin. 
 
 Example 98. 
 
 sotto voce
 
 146 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 As an example of Cessation-emphasis : 
 
 Ballade from Op. 118, Brahms. 
 Example 99. 
 
 1 
 
 ^^f^ t 
 
 P 
 
 > 
 
 
 *— 
 
 i 
 
 ; 
 
 t\ 
 
 
 
 j^ 
 
 etc 
 
 1 lJ } 
 
 Finally, the lecturer (to show varieties of Pedal-effect) played some pages 
 of Brahms' Rhapsody in B minor: 
 
 Example 100. 
 
 Pedal thus: p 
 
 K not a continuous legato) 
 
 £ I £_J p. I P I 
 
 listen both I think I have shown you enough to convince you how 
 to finger and imperative it is not only to "listen with your fingers," as 
 foot doings. ^ gjnpjpjg phrase has it (and a very useful old empiric
 
 PEDALLING AND THE ELEMENT OF DURATION 147 
 
 phrase it is) but also, that you must strive to "listen" 
 just as accurately, definitely, and purposefully with your 
 foot. 1 
 
 It is not a complex problem at all if we only cease making 
 distinctions which do not really exist! Be it right hand or 
 left hand, or any finger-tip of either, or be it our right foot, 
 they are all but part of us — part of our body, why then 
 delude ourselves into considering them to be separate 
 "things"? All are able to send sense-impressions to our 
 brain from resistances experienced outside our bodies, and 
 all must help in providing the required effects. 
 
 Evidently, whether we touch the piano (and act upon it) Attention 
 with a finger or a foot, it is always "we" — ourselves, who durin *P er - 
 
 ... . fonnance. 
 
 are thus deriving impressions from the instrument (the 
 piano itself) and ordering actions outside of us (and within 
 us) in consequence. Why then have bits of "we," a right 
 hand bit, or a left hand bit, or a foot bit? Instead of all 
 such distinctions, let us thoroughly realise that we must 
 all the time be keenly alert to what our sensation-apparatus 
 as a whole conveys to us from the Piano, so that we may 
 properly order and time the musical and muscular doing. 
 The sensation of key-resistance and the sensation of pedal- 
 resistance, these are both but part and parcel of that single 
 thought and purpose, summed up as "performing-atten- 
 tion" — and that means: attention to Music — through 
 our instrument. 
 
 1 Foot and Finger together make up the musical effect we need, there- 
 fore do not let us separate these into distinct and often conflicting depart- 
 ments, but let them always act in consonance, indeed as one person. 
 At the piano, we must know no distinction or separateness between our 
 right and left hands, neither may we make these distinct from our right 
 Foot.
 
 SECTION VI 
 
 THE PURPOSE OF ART-EXPRESSION AND ITS 
 RELATION TO THE INFINITE 
 
 The ever- Coming back to Nature — to the stillness of the country, 
 
 present to sky-expanse and wind-driven cloud, to the magic of the 
 
 fbettine woods and the mystery of the starlit-nights — a funda- 
 the end over mental truth is ever insinuatingly and forcibly driven home 
 the means, to us. There is a paralysing mistake which all of us are 
 only too liable to make in our art-efforts. In giving the 
 necessarily close attention to the wherewithal of Expres- 
 sion, be it in composition or in performance, painting or 
 poetising, or in the teaching of these things, there is always 
 this great danger lurking for us, that we are liable not 
 only to forget Art in the doing of it, but liable to forget 
 what should be the purpose of Art — the very purpose of our 
 pursuit! 
 
 Brought back into close contact with unsullied, un-brick- 
 poisoned Nature, that purpose reasserts itself in tones that 
 refuse to be passed by unheeded. 
 The purpose If we are impressionable — and we cannot be artists 
 
 o art is e yjjggg we ^g — we find that things m Nature and in 
 
 expression of 
 
 feeling. Humanity around us impress us strongly, in various 
 
 ways, and arouse in us vivid feelings, or moods. Now, 
 the purpose of Art, whatever its form, is primarily and 
 mainly the expression of Moods and Feelings, thus en- 
 gendered. 
 
 If then we would be Artists, we must earnestly and 
 honestly strive to do neither more nor less than to give 
 
 148
 
 PURPOSE OP ART-EXPRESSION 149 
 
 expression to such emotional states, moods, or feelings. We 
 must use our intelligence so that our feelings shall be duly 
 expressed. And if we do use all our technical resources for 
 this sole purpose, we may possibly succeed in producing a 
 real, living work of Art, which, being vivid, may in its turn 
 impress others with a mood, feeling or emotional state — 
 possibly of a like nature. 
 
 The attempt to write notes, or play them, or sing them, 
 or to recite, or paint, or versify, unless under such emotional 
 stress, can only lead to failure — sheer waste of time, sheer 
 folly so far as true Art is concerned. "Nothing can only 
 produce — Nothing ! " 
 
 Of course it does not follow, that even if we do try our 
 utmost to attend to the mood induced in us by Nature 
 herself, by human feeling, or by some real work of art, that 
 therefore we ourselves shall succeed in producing a real 
 work of art; but we shall know, at least, that we are on the 
 right track. The other ever remains empty Nothingness, 
 mere pretence and hypocrisy — Artisanship maybe, but not 
 Art! 
 
 Also there always remains the question, what mood? — Art-mood* 
 
 but that is another story! There are moods that raise us or f 1 ^ make J 
 
 for good and 
 help us to raise others, — moods that help us to live and think ^y^ ^.w, 
 
 better; or, on the other hand, there are moods which have for evil, 
 quite the reverse effect. . . . Thus we may have Art which 
 is a mere pandering to self and morbidity, or we may 
 have Art which raises our thoughts beyond the daily neces- 
 sity (and struggle very often) of making our daily bread. 
 Art, which may help us to see the great wonder of Nature 
 around us, and to see how, in our own lives, we can be more 
 or less in harmony with it, if we but try. And our thoughts 
 revert to those real masterpieces of Nature-music of which
 
 150 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Beethoven and Bach, for instance, have given us so 
 many. 1 
 
 Health and l The fact of our being at all "in the mood" to compose or perform is, 
 mood. however, a question quite distinct from this one. 
 
 After all that has been formulated as to the facts of doing, we are 
 nevertheless helpless, unless we happen to be in such a performing or 
 composing "mood" or humor — helpless, so far as the attainment of any 
 really valuable artistic result is concerned. 
 
 True, a knowledge of the facts and laws of Expression and Technique 
 will enable us to lessen the evil effect of "non-mood," and also such knowl- 
 edge will enable us better to express ourselves during the stress of so-called 
 "Inspiration," but the exceedingly exasperating fact remains, that in 
 the end we remain very much at the mercy of our bodily moods — physi- 
 cal moods wrought by our precise state of health! The whole question 
 resolves itself ultimately into one of Vitality. It is possible that we may 
 be "in the mood" or "inspired" when the thermometer of our vitality is 
 high, but we cannot be when it is low — notwithstanding what seem to 
 be occasional exceptions to this rule, when a feverish state of over-excite- 
 ment stimulates our imagination, and simulates the effects of true vigor- 
 ous vitality. It is when our vitality-thermometer is high that we feel 
 alert and keen mentally, find ourselves open to new impressions, and 
 alive to the promptings of a healthy imagination vividly active for the 
 time. But when the tide of vitality is at its lower ebb, neither can we 
 assimilate new impressions, nor will our brain provide any. Moreover, 
 these mental states re-act with redoubled effect muscularly. Remember, 
 the "natural" state of the muscles is one of tenseness, not one of relaxa- 
 tion; this is the meaning of "rigor mortis." In order to relax our muscles 
 we must use up vital energy. .Take away that energy and they close up 
 and tighten. 
 
 Thus it happens, when our vitality is at a lower ebb, that all the mus- 
 cles of our body tend to approximate to the state of death; there be- 
 comes evident in them a tendency towards less promptitude and less ease 
 in relaxation than obtains during our moments of full vital energy. Any 
 gymnastic action or exertion (such as Pianoforte playing or Singing, etc.) 
 which we may undertake under such unfavorable conditions of mind 
 and body, will have to be fulfilled while the "opposite" or "contrary" 
 muscles remain more or less active — tense and impedimental therefore. 
 
 Here we see why it is, that when we are not in a musical mood (i.e.,
 
 PURPOSE OP ART-EXPRESSION 151 
 
 Now, these thoughts can be profitably pursued still Thenatur» 
 further, and to good practical purpose. In the factor ~ l " l ^j r ^ 1 " 
 which all sane musicians hold and consider to be the most aU-pervading 
 striking manifestation of Music, the very basis, the very rhythm and 
 life of it, we shall find a good foundation for the belief to the J*" 
 that Music is intimate with Nature herself. This factor ^g^^ 
 is what we term Pulse, Time, Accent, that is — Rhythm. 
 
 It has been conceded by many that Music is the most 
 powerful of the arts, that it is the art which brings us 
 most intimately into communion with the Ultimate Un- 
 knowable in Nature, that it seems to be the form of human 
 thought which brings us nearest to an overcoming of the 
 very limitations of our Thought-mechanism . . . — that 
 it brings us most nearly into contact with that which must 
 forever remain outside the grasp of our Mind. 
 
 Now the reason why Music is thus the most powerful of 
 the Arts lies surely in its immediate relationship (through 
 Pulse, Time and Accent) to the cosmic all-pervading Rhythm 
 — its relationship to the ultimate Fact and Being of the 
 Universe? 
 
 Most of us, I hope, do recognise that Music is indeed 
 dead as a door-nail unless the keenest sense of Pulse and 
 Accent is kept alive and insisted upon by teacher, pupil 
 
 not in a state of general alertness) our Technique also is found to be un- 
 responsive, woefully impoverished and nullified. 
 
 It is our vitality which is the ultimate cause of our seeing vividly what 
 to do, our vitality again which leaves our muscles unfettered by their 
 fellows. 
 
 If we bear these facts in mind, we can however in some measure lessen 
 the evil effects of the muscular tension of a low vitality, by inhibiting the 
 wrong exertions, by trying to be effortless, by trying to remember the 
 sensation of ease experienced at more favorable times, coupled with keen 
 rhythmical alertness, and thus recall somewhat the feeling of unrestrained, 
 vigorous rhythmical doing associated with our moments of bright vitality.
 
 152 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 and performer. Sounds, however finely we may inflect 
 their tone and duration, signify nothing unless the vital- 
 ising basis of Rhythm is insisted upon — in the form of a 
 well-defined Pulse, and in the form of constantly-continued 
 accentuational growth. 
 
 It is indeed solely through its direct appeal to our sense 
 of Pulse-throb, sense of rhythmical growth and Progression, 
 that music rouses us to a sense or feeling of something vital 
 and alive. 1 
 
 Through this supreme fact of its manifestation, Music, 
 indeed, brings infinitude itself within our ken. It is easy 
 to realise why this is so. . . . 
 
 Glibly enough do we speak of the ultimate unknowables, 
 Time and Space. But we do not always realise, that while 
 we cannot think of any manifestation of Energy or Matter 
 without the element of extension in Space, nevertheless, all 
 manifestations (whatever their nature, including those of 
 Thought and Consciousness itself) must ultimately resolve 
 themselves into manifestations of Pulse — or Extension in 
 time! Pulse — Vibration — Rhythm, indeed pervades every- 
 thing; and, in fact, constitutes the ultimate of all that is. 
 
 If we look around us, all that which we call "life" 
 exists solely by nature of this vitalising element of Pulse, 
 from Humanity down to the mere Diatom. Again, if 
 
 we look outside that limited series of manifestations called 
 
 1 Omit this, and music is indeed dead and useless — merely a succession 
 of "pretty noises." But give it, and then with it, and through it we have 
 the strongest appeal to the very fundamentals of our nature — always 
 provided that the hearer is a Seer in a measure, and is not stone-blind 
 or deaf to musical feeling and human emotion. Thus we gain a vision, a 
 faint one maybe, but a convincing one, of the Something which is the very 
 basis of Nature, outside our thought and sense-perceptions. Such is the 
 wonderful power which Music can have over us — the power of opening 
 up to us a glimpse of the beyond!
 
 PURPOSE OP ART-EXPRESSION 153 
 
 life, and on a starry night realise the unthinkable, stupefying 
 infinitudes of the star-depths, we become all the more 
 conscious of this persistence of the element of Pulse, or 
 Rhythm! If we turn to a consideration of the various 
 
 manifestations of Energy — Sound, Light, Heat and Elec- 
 tricity — again are we brought face to face with the almighty 
 doings of Pulse, — Pulse, in the form of infinitely quick vi- 
 brations, still more overpowering in their grandeur. Nay, 
 the very thing we call Matter, the very substances which 
 form our seemingly inert Earth (with all its metals, its 
 rocks, and its gases) do we not find that even this seem- 
 ingly "dead" matter in the end probably resolves itself 
 into variously constituted manifestations of pulse — the 
 Rhythm of "vortex atoms?" 
 
 Here then, we are face to face with that One, Allpervad- 
 ing, ultimate Something — the vitalising, palpitating factor, 
 which, although forever incomprehensible, is tremendous 
 in its Almightiness. In a word, we are fain to feel 
 
 that we are here face to face with that ultimate, Unknow- 
 able Fact, or Presence which the older Religions have 
 with one accord recognised — which they have indefinitely 
 felt themselves conscious of — and which they have all tried 
 to sum up in the same Word. . . . 
 
 Because it is the essential manifestation of that prime fact, 
 because Pulse is Life, therefore it is that we feel Music to 
 be alive when in its pursuit we do act in consonance and 
 harmony with that Supreme Fact . . . and are therefore in 
 harmony with Nature herself!
 
 SUMMARY 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF TEACHING INTERPRETATION 
 
 By TOBIAS MATTHAY 
 
 (Report of a Lecture delivered before the Manchester and the Edinburgh 
 Music Teachers' Associations in March, 1910, and before the London Music 
 Teachers' Association in February, 1911, etc. This appeared in The Music 
 Student of April, 1911, and is here reprinted verbatim.) 
 
 Mr. Matthay remarked that his lecture consisted really 
 of six lectures compressed into one, and it would therefore 
 be of inordinate length. For this reason, also, we can give 
 but a resume^ of this lecture. 
 
 Six Important Points for Piano Teachers 
 
 He said: "The pursuit implied by the term Piano-teach- 
 ing is so enormously complex, that at first glance it seems 
 hopeless to try to cover the ground in one short discourse. 
 All one can do is to select some of the more salient points 
 where the young teacher (and often the old one also) is 
 apt to fail. It is therefore understood that no attempt is 
 here made to deal exhaustively with the subject. I have 
 selected the following points: (1) the difference between 
 Practice and mere Strumming; (2) the difference between 
 Teaching and Cramming; (3) how the pupil's mind can 
 be brought upon his work; (4) correct ideas of Time and 
 Shape; (5) the element of Rubato; and (6) the element of 
 Duration and Pedalling." 
 
 154
 
 SUMMARY 155 
 
 What is Good Teaching? 
 
 Mr. Matthay continued, that it would be impossible to 
 make clear even these particular essentials of teaching, 
 without first taking a preliminary, cursory glance at the 
 whole problem of teaching. To begin with, we could not, 
 accurately speaking, "teach" anyone anything, in the sense 
 of being able directly to lodge any knowledge of ours in 
 another mind. One could only stimulate another mind 
 to wish to learn, and place before that other mind the things 
 desirable to be learnt. We cannot teach others, but we 
 can help them to learn. 
 
 Here we come at once to one of the special points to be 
 discussed, the difference between good teaching and bad 
 teaching, viz., that good teaching consists not in trying to 
 make the pupil "do things' ' so that it may seem like playing, 
 but in trying to make him think, so that it may really be 
 playing. In the first place we try to turn out an automaton, 
 but in the second case we prompt the pupil to be a living 
 intelligent being. 
 
 Pupils usually do not realise that it is they who have to 
 make the effort to learn; hence, that is the first thing to 
 make plain to them. True, there are "direct" and empiric 
 methods of teaching, but such directness can only refer to 
 the method of placing things before a pupil. Work is often 
 brought back worse than at the preceding lesson, owing to 
 practice having been purely automatic. Often this is the 
 pupil's fault, but more often still, the teacher's, owing to 
 his not having shown the pupil how to apply his brains 
 during practice. 
 
 The Necessity of Attention 
 
 Practice should not consist in trying to "make the piece 
 go better," but in trying to make oneself see it better —
 
 156 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 understand it better musically and technically. This im- 
 plies a constant process of analysis during practice, musical 
 analysis and techmcal analysis. This means we must really 
 listen, both outwardly and inwardly. Nothing is more fatal 
 musically than omitting to do this. 
 
 To try to draw without looking at the paper fr no worse 
 than trying to play without careful aural attention. This 
 is where "Ear-Training" comes in. But Ear-Training 
 should always mean training the mind to observe and analyse 
 Pitch and Time so as to understand Music better, and should 
 never be conducted without that immediate purpose in 
 view. There can be no real practice, nor real lesson, without 
 insistence all the time on such real Ear-Training. All this 
 implies the closest possible attention during the practice- 
 hour. Such close attention, in conjunction with a keen 
 imagination, is the distinguishing feature between the work 
 of the talented and un-talented person. One can therefore 
 raise one's status, musically, simply by insisting on close 
 attention to what one is doing, and more important still, 
 to what one should be doing, musically and technically. 
 
 Such persistent use of the judgement and imagination is 
 not only required from the pupil, but also from the teacher. 
 As teachers, our powers must be applied, analytically, in a 
 two-fold direction. First, we must analyse the music we 
 wish to teach, its Structure and its Feeling; and, secondly, 
 we must analyse the pupil's doings, comparing them to this 
 ideal we have formed, so that we can diagnose exactly where 
 the pupil fails, and why he fails. Such analysis comes under 
 four headings : (a) we must analyse what the pupil is actually 
 doing; (b) we must analyse the faults thereby perceived; 
 (c) we must analyse why the pupil is making those faults; 
 and (4) we must analyse the pupil's attitude of mind, so 
 that we may know how to treat him.
 
 SUMMARY 157 
 
 The Use and Misuse of Example 
 
 The lecturer here took these matters in detail. He then 
 pointed out that teachers must learn to explain every point, 
 and must besides educate themselves as musicians and as 
 actual performers, so as to be able to demonstrate the 
 various points by actual example when necessary. Ex- 
 ample, by itself, however, was shown to be useless, as its 
 tendency is here again to turn the pupil into "an automatic 
 ape" — example should always be accompanied by full 
 explanation as to shape and feeling, the purpose of the 
 means of expression applied. The opening bars of Schu- 
 mann's Warum were here played, and it was shown how 
 an inexperienced pupil would turn this into a laughable 
 parody unless such explanations were given. 
 
 Enthusiasm 
 
 Allusion was then made to the necessity for enthusiasm, 
 for unless the teacher could all the time show himself really 
 interested in his work, he could not expect his pupils to 
 give the truly exhausting attention required if really good 
 work was to be accomplished. And enthusiasm would 
 grow in us, if we but tried our best all the time. Enthusiasm, 
 however, would not suffice by itself. The teacher must not 
 only be willing to help, but must know how to do so, other- 
 wise his work would after all prove a failure. 
 
 Cramming v. the Cultivation of Judgement and of Imagination 
 
 Mr. Matthay next considered the radical distinction 
 between useful teaching and useless teaching. 
 
 The wrong attitude is, to try to make the pupil directly 
 imitate the musical effects, the "points," etc., which your 
 musical sense tells you are required, but without explaining
 
 158 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 the why and wherefore musically. Thus you turn your pupil 
 into a mere responsive automaton, a Trilby to your Sven- 
 galism. This is sheer "cramming/' and can have no abiding 
 influence educationally. 
 
 The right attitude is to insist on your pupil trying to see 
 for himself all the time, to the best of his capacity, musically 
 and technically. You must force him to use his own judge- 
 ment and imagination, so that that may prompt him all the 
 time; and you must guide that judgement and imagination 
 all the time, so that right seeing and thinking is learnt. 
 
 In the first case you teach your pupil to play without 
 thinking, whereas in the second case you teach him to 
 play because he is thinking, and is thinking rightly. 
 
 Two Main Points — "Key-Resistance" and the "Time-Spot" 
 
 To bring your pupil's mind on his work, you must insist 
 on two main points. You must teach him to attend, in 
 the first place, to "Key-resistance," and, in the second place, 
 to "Time-spot," and by this means you ensure musical 
 attention — attention to musical shape and f eeling. 
 
 By attention to key-resistance is meant a constant atten- 
 tion to the obstruction the key offers before and during its 
 descent. As this resistance varies with every difference in 
 the tone you are making, you can thus judge (and by this 
 means only) what force to apply, so that you may obtain 
 the tone musically desired. 
 
 By attention to "Time-spot" is meant that you must 
 realise that all music implies Progression, and you must use 
 your inward ear and your outer physical ear to determine 
 where in the musical progression each and every sound is 
 precisely due. You must make clear to the pupil that 
 sounds have no musical significance whatever unless they 
 are made to suggest Progression: there must always be a
 
 SUMMARY 159 
 
 sense of Progression, or movement towards definite landmarks 
 
 — a growth with a definite purpose, a rhythmical and 
 emotional purpose. This principle of progression applies 
 equally to the smallest segments of music, and to the largest; 
 
 — it applies whether we deal with a progression merely of 
 three notes, or a complete phrase, or a whole movement. No 
 child should ever be allowed to touch the piano without being 
 at once shown how this principle of progression onwards, 
 towards cadences, etc., applies everywhere. Mr. Matthay 
 illustrated all these points and went into a mass of detail; he 
 also said that he had pointed out the importance of this 
 idea of progression and "scanning" of the music during the 
 last 20 years of his teaching life, and in his First Principles 
 (Advice to Teachers), but that the passage was often passed 
 by, without its being realized that it applies during every 
 minute of one's teaching life. He pointed out, further, 
 that only by strict attention to this principle of progression 
 could one ensure the correction of "sloppiness" in passage- 
 work, and learn to play the notes in between the pulses 
 accurately and musically. 
 
 This matter was illustrated, as also the fact that octave 
 passages, etc., divided between the two hands, still depended 
 on the same mental principle; unless indeed, the student 
 had not learnt the right ways of Technique, had not mas- 
 tered the "Act of Resting," when he would here fail owing 
 to his being unable to express himself properly. It was 
 pointed out that to keep this principle of progression in view 
 while playing a long extended movement, is indeed the hard- 
 est task a player has to deal with; and that success here 
 depends, mainly, on an accurate memory of the proportionate 
 importance of all the component progressions of the piece; 
 and upon a constant self-control in executing the musical 
 picture thus to be realised as a perfect whole.
 
 160 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 Continuity and Rubato 
 
 Mr. Matthay then showed, that to enable one to ren- 
 der a piece continuous in performance, the tempo must be 
 continuous, although it also depended on a correct laying 
 out of tone- values and of the emotional stress. " Remem- 
 ber/ ' he said, "a new Tempo means a new piece — a new 
 train of thought, and that each change of Tempo needs a 
 new adjustment of the listener's attention. Constantly re- 
 curring ritardos, and accellerandos, unless on a large scale, 
 are therefore fatal to Continuity. But we cannot express 
 ourselves adequately without Time-in flections, hence the 
 necessity of Rubato." Rubato was shown to be requisite 
 in all music, although some of the older masters required 
 it less than do our modern composers. Rubato should be 
 taught even to children — real Rubato, not playing out of 
 time. 
 
 The illustrations of Rubato were specially chosen to prove 
 their necessity even in Beethoven and Bach, although 
 Rubato requires subtle application in these masters. Rubato 
 might extend over a few notes only, or over whole phrases. 
 Rubato was shown to be of two distinct kinds: (a) where, 
 for the sake of emphasising a note or several notes, we delay 
 the time, and must then make good the time by hastening 
 the subsequent notes so as to return to the pulse at the 
 crisis of the phrase, etc. ; and (b) where, for the sake of the 
 agitato effect, we begin by hastening the phrase, and must 
 then delay the subsequent notes so as to bring us back 
 again to the pulse at the chief syllable of the phrase — near 
 its end. These two forms can be combined even during 
 the course of a single phrase, and often are. In all cases 
 it is of primary importance to determine exactly where we 
 must return to the pulse, and also to determine the cause
 
 SUMMAKY 161 
 
 of the Rubato — whether caused in the first instance by a 
 retardation or by an accelleration. The actual degree and 
 curve of the Time-swerve must, however, be left to the 
 fancy of the moment, and the effects must never be applied 
 so as to become noticeable as such. These points were 
 made clear by the lecturer by means of short excerpts, show- 
 ing, for instance, how impossible a Chopin Nocturne would 
 be without Rubato. 
 
 The next point, likewise brought home by examples, 
 was to prove how a Rubato would serve to make clear the 
 climax of a phrase in spite of a diminuendo. It was pointed 
 out that the most striking emphasis we can give to any note 
 is its coincidence with the pulse after that has been swerved 
 from during a Rubato. 
 
 It was also shown, by examples from Chopin, etc., how 
 Rubato is required to depict agitated feelings — whereas, 
 to give the effect of decision, calmness, truculence, etc., we 
 must avoid Rubato for the moment. 
 
 In passages consisting of notes of contrasting length, the 
 tendency should be to emphasise these differences by giving 
 proportionately more time to the longer notes and less to 
 the shorter ones; and incidentally we should find that the 
 same rule applies with regard to tone-variety, the tone vary- 
 ing somewhat in accordance with the length of the notes. 
 
 A somewhat related tonal effect is required when we 
 continue a phrase after a long note or rest — we must re- 
 start the continuation with far less tone than was given to 
 the last long note, otherwise we should have the effect of 
 a new phrase there. 
 
 Tone Contrasts 
 
 Mr. Matthay, after exemplifying this, said the importance 
 of Rubato does not minimise the importance of Tone-
 
 162 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 contrasts and contrasts of Duration; but the absence of 
 both these last is also often overlooked by the teacher. 
 Although made miserable by their absence in the pupils' 
 performances, the teacher, owing to his not noticing the 
 real reason of his discomfort failed to make the slight effort 
 necessary to remedy these things. Most of the failure does 
 not arise from paucity of tone, but from the absence of low 
 tints. Most students, in fact, never get near a pianissimo, 
 and accompaniments are always played far too loudly; 
 this was exemplified by a few bars from the opening of the 
 4 'Moonlight " Sonata, it being pointed out that the difference 
 between the good and evil rendering was attributable solely 
 to the ' ' cutting away ' ' of tone in the first instance. Students 
 also invariably played the beginnings of phrases far too 
 high up in tone, hence their failure to show the climaxes. 
 With regard to the actual teaching of the wherewithal 
 of tone-contrasts — the teaching of Touch, the rationale of 
 the processes of producing Tone, Duration and Agility, 
 there could of course be no teaching worthy the name unless 
 these things were all the time most fully explained and made 
 clear to the pupil. Even Germany, where instruction in 
 these matters had been so hideously bad, even Germany was 
 now waking up to these requirements of the present day. 
 
 Pedalling 
 
 The lecturer then went on to the subject of Pedalling, 
 which he said was mostly so badly overlooked that even 
 artists' performances were often no better than a child's 
 daubs. It was pitiable to see the amount of care sometimes 
 bestowed on making the fingers execute good phrasing, 
 duration and coloring, when in the meantime the whole 
 effect was wiped out by the right foot. The fault could in 
 most cases be again traced to sheer non-attention to the
 
 SUMMARY 163 
 
 actual sounds coming from the piano — playing being too 
 often regarded as a mere muscular exercise instead of the 
 making of musical sounds for a musical purpose. 
 
 Mr. Matthay here demonstrated the striking contrasts 
 to be obtained merely by varying the duration of sounds; 
 and pointed out, as to the details of pedalling, that we have 
 to learn to syncopate the pedal in legato and in legatissimo, 
 and further to learn the value of incomplete tenuti, empha- 
 sis by the cutting short of a sustained effect at a pulse, and 
 half-pedalling effects, all of which matters received full illus- 
 tration. This matter was summed up by saying that we 
 must always remember that music depends not only on our 
 fingers but also on our right foot. 
 
 Sincere Art 
 
 In his peroration, Mr. Matthay indicated how Musical 
 Art was always on the wrong path unless it was employed 
 to depict things felt and experienced. To be sincere, Art 
 must always be used for the purpose of expressing Mood or 
 Feeling. But it did not follow that by making this en- 
 deavor we should succeed, although we should be working 
 in the right direction. Also, there was the question as to 
 the appropriateness of the moods chosen to be expressed. 
 Mr. Matthay then tried to show that in the true basis of 
 Music — Pulse, Rhythm, Progression — we could find the 
 reason of its great power over the emotions, this basis 
 bringing it into intimate union with all the vital manifesta- 
 tions of Nature, and with the ultimate hidden facts of the 
 Universe and Infinitude itself.
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTES 
 
 No. I.— ON HALF-PEDALLING AND HALF-DAMPING 
 
 Reference has been made, on page 134, etc., to the 
 many possibilities offered by allowing the Pedal to remain 
 up too short a time to damp out the Bass strings. Yet 
 another Pedal effect, however, remains to be noted. 
 
 This is obtained by purposely depressing the Pedal only 
 sufficiently just to ease the dampers off the strings. With 
 the dampers in this condition (not fully pressing on their 
 strings) any notes sounded, and particularly the lower 
 ones, will faintly continue sounding in spite of the keys 
 being allowed to rise. This renders possible "atmospheric' ' 
 effects not attainable by ordinary full pedalling, or by the 
 half -damping (or pedalling) previously described. I suspect 
 it is an effect most of us have used all our artistic lives 
 without being aware of doing so! Nevertheless, like the 
 previously described "half-pedalling," it also offers great 
 possibilities when musically applied. For instance, take 
 the return to the first subject in the slow movement of 
 Beethoven's Sonata in G, Op. 31, No. 1. To keep the 
 Pedal fully depressed for the whole bar of left-hand 
 semiquavers: 
 
 Example 101. ,m m 
 
 // // 
 
 (or even during a complete group only) would render this 
 passage far too heavy and clumsy. Whereas, without any 
 Pedal whatever, the effect would be absurdly pedantic and 
 unsympathetic — not in the least suggestive of that sense of 
 String-Quartet playing evident throughout this movement. 
 The only true solution is to use the Pedal just slightly 
 depressed, as here in question — enough slightly to loosen 
 
 164
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTES 165 
 
 the pressure of the dampers upon the strings; and a slight 
 blurred resonance, or reverberation, is thus achieved, in 
 keeping with the gentle character of the passage. 
 
 Similarly, a rising arpeggio with Pedal fully depressed 
 is quite a gross effect compared to the same arpeggio with 
 the dampers only just eased off the strings. 
 
 This form of pedalling also solves many problems in 
 BACH-playing, since, to my mind, it may be applied, on 
 occasion, without entailing much loss in clearness of part- 
 playing, which would certainly happen with ordinary fully 
 depressed Pedal. 
 
 With regard to Nomenclature, it is most unfortunate 
 that the terms half-pedalling and half-damping have been 
 so loosely used. May I now plead that "half-pedalling" 
 be restricted to that sharp up-and-down movement of 
 the Pedal which allows us to continue Bass-notes under 
 changing harmonies above; and that "half -damping" be 
 restricted to this playing with the dampers not fully active 
 (half "off" the strings) which has given rise to this Note? 
 Also, it would be well to restrict the sign P___/\_ J to the 
 notation of the &a(f-pedalling device, as shown on page 136, 
 and not (as some have unfortunately done) to the expres- 
 sion of Zegrafo-pedalling — for which a more correct notation, 
 anyway, would be P | | . Notation becomes con- 
 
 fusing unless there is unanimity in its application. 
 
 Finally, it is well to remind the student — and the artist — 
 that the most important point in pedalling is not the 
 sustaining of sound but the stopping of sound! 
 
 In this connection, I am often asked whether the old 
 rule still holds good — that the Pedal should never be used 
 during a scale passage? Indeed, it is quite a good rule, 
 but needs breaking at times ! Passages with passing-notes 
 (such as the scale) in the lower registers cannot be sustained 
 by the Pedal without very ill effect. On the other hand, 
 scales high up can often bear pedalling while the harmonies
 
 166 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 beneath are sustained. Also one can sometimes use the 
 extreme effect of holding the Pedal throughout a rapidly 
 played rising scale, provided the resulting roar be promptly 
 stopped with the last note. I should venture thus to play 
 those last rising scales near the close of Chopin's Ballade 
 in G minor — and also the forte rising scale in Brahms's 
 Rhapsody in B minor, Op. 76. 
 
 To my mind, a very charming effect can sometimes be 
 obtained by holding the Pedal throughout a rising scale 
 in the right hand, while the left hand silently "picks up" 
 (depresses the notes of) the implied harmony in the middle 
 of the instrument, which harmonies are then disclosed, 
 sounding, when the Pedal is raised at the end of such scale. 
 I should not hesitate to use this device, for instance, even 
 in certain scales in the C minor and D minor Fantasias of 
 Mozart ! 
 
 Many cases will suggest themselves where a similar 
 "trick" pedalling and subsequent holding of picked-up 
 notes will be felt to be quite sound, artistically and 
 musically. 
 
 No. II.- ON THE COLOURING OF OCTAVES AND 
 PASSING-NOTES 
 
 In connection with the colouring of octaves, another 
 point should be noted. When octaves, etc., are divided 
 between the hands with the left hand an octave lower 
 than the right hand, care must be taken properly to resolve 
 any passing-notes that may occur, as everywhere else. 
 The resolution of a passing-note always needs carefully 
 adjusting tonally — the note ornamented must at least be of 
 eaual value tonally to the ornament that 'precedes it. There- 
 fore, in such octave passages, etc., alternating between the 
 hands the little finger must be kept well under in tone, else 
 the effect will prove extremely harsh; and the harmonic
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTES 
 
 167 
 
 progression must be made clear by making the tone of the 
 alternating thumbs match in colour. Thus, for instance: 
 
 Example 102. 
 
 
 I 9 - 
 
 Example 103. 
 
 Also see the two passages given as Example 22, on page 52. 
 
 No. III.— TONE-COLOURING v TONE-INFLECTION 
 
 A point often overlooked is the difference between 
 Inflection and Colouring, in its proper sense. Loosely 
 used, we apply the term "colouring" to any of the three 
 possible forms of expression — variety of Tone, Duration, 
 and Time (Rubato), whether used to denote merely inflec- 
 tion from note to note, or to denote those larger stretches 
 of colouring which deserve the term Instrumentation — a 
 thing closely akin to Orchestration, but not quite the same. 
 
 It is this last aspect of expression, Instrumentation, 
 which, strictly speaking, should alone be termed Colouring,
 
 168 MUSICAL INTERPRETATION 
 
 i.e., a laying out of one's work in large schemes and levels 
 of expression. Hence, Colouring includes Inflection, but 
 not vice versa. You can, for example, have considerable 
 stretches of forte colour or piano colour — while the note- 
 to-note inflections are nevertheless in evidence; whereas 
 you can quite easily inflect all through a piece without 
 displaying any distinct schemes of colour-level whatever. 
 Similarly in composition, some of the great Masters were 
 great colourists and some were not. Schumann, for instance, 
 is rather badly lacking in this sense; whereas Beethoven 
 has it highly developed. Chopin's Piano writing shows it 
 finely, and certainly Liszt had marvellous feeling for it. 
 Consider, for instance, how well Beethoven has laid out 
 the first movement of his Sonata in E minor, Op. 90, in 
 this respect — contrasting the various registers of the instru- 
 ment. Schumann, no doubt, would have written it all in 
 the middle of the instrument ! Again, examine in this light, 
 say Liszt's Rhapsody No. 12, in C sharp minor, and realise 
 how gloriously effective is its laying-out in large schemes 
 of Piano-colour devices, or his "Waldesrauschen" — true 
 Instrumentation, and what a lesson in Piano- writing! The 
 old Harpsichord or Virginal writers and players perforce 
 were colourists. You could not inflect tone from note to 
 note on those instruments; all you could do was to play 
 successive phrases with various timbres, either by pulling 
 out stops or using different keyboards — a fact which must 
 be borne in mind when trying to play Scarlatti, Purcell, etc. 
 For a Pianist, however, to achieve greatness, he must 
 anyway have mastered both the art of Inflection and of 
 Colouring. Inflections are necessary from note to note, 
 but it is by carefully considering Colouring that breadth 
 of effect can alone be secured.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 This' book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 JUN &a 
 
 JUL 20133b 
 
 940 
 
 
 ;jMJRL 4 
 
 Jul 15 '59 
 
 flhC D imj 
 
 
 MPP^'jESff ' 
 
 i <&■„• 
 
 
 K 2 5 1943 
 
 7-4 
 
 MAR 2 0^7 \ 4 
 
 APR 3 (C1947' 
 AW 5. 
 
 JIM 4 1949 
 
 OCT 3 1 195T 
 
 5 1951 
 
 Form L-9-20m-8,'37 
 
 9J8CHARGE URl 
 
 8 1965 
 
 4-9 
 
 9 
 
 m 
 
 MA*,„2iwr 
 
 BWia OCT 2 8 1968 
 
 OCT 3 3 1968 
 
 
 RECEIVECJOEC-3-'* 
 
 ! D- URL 
 
 PM 
 IO 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALLFOHN]
 
 ^ 'fflfollf 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000120 603 6