ON THE CONDUCTING OF WALTZES
To begin with, a dividing line must be drawn between a waltz played for dancing and the concert waltz. The former is performed in a regular rhythmic manner everywhere, except in Vienna and South America, where the dancers are accustomed to little freedoms of tempo. There is so much really good music written in this form, that it is a pity to hear waltzes “ground out” in the reprehensible one-beat-in-a-measure style of so many of our Military Bandmasters. Portions of Strauss’ “Artist’s Life” Waltzes are given in the following examples, which also contain various modes of beating waltz time to conform with the spirit of the music.
There are many ways of conducting waltz time. Some conductors beat all the beats, others again, only one beat to the measure. Analysis of some of the methods of the great conductors who have not disdained to play the waltzes of composers like Waldteufel or Johann Strauss, has lead us to believe that the three styles of conducting explained in the following diagrams are the ones most generally used.
A—The one-beat-in-a-measure style for passages of flowing melody and great verve.
In order to avoid a monotony of motion, it is best to start the down-beats of each measure, alternately from the left and the right. The dotted line in the diagram indicates the reflex or rebound movement, which brings the hand and arm in a position to start the next beat.
DIAGRAM Nᵒ.1 (Style 1)
(A) Starting the beat from left to right.
(B) Starting the beat from the right.
B—Following the heavy down-beat of the measure, the second beat will be indicated by a sharp sideward wrist movement and in lieu of the third beat, the hand and arm will be drawn up to the original position in a more relaxed manner.
DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 2 (Style 2)
Light and delicate rhythmic figures are best indicated by this method.
C—The third method is the regular gesture used in any 3/4 or 3/8 time and indicates each beat.
DIAGRAM Nᵒ. 3 (Style 3)
Same as 3/4 time.
In the following extract from Artists’ Life Waltz by Strauss, the three different styles are applied. The various strains and the manner of beating each measure, are indicated by the Roman Numerals which correspond to the diagrams.
- I Diagram 1
- II Diagram 2
- III Diagram 3
From Hector Berlioz’
“Treatise on Conducting”
A dilemma sometimes presents itself when certain parts—for the sake of contrast—are given a triple rhythm, while others preserve the dual rhythm.
If the wind-instrument parts in the above example are confided to players who are good musicians, there will be no need to change the manner of marking the bar, and the conductor may continue to subdivide it by six, or to divide it simply by two. The majority of players, however, seeming to hesitate at the moment when, by employing the syncopated form, the triple rhythm clashes with the dual rhythm, require assurance, which can be given by easy means. The uncertainty occasioned them by the sudden appearance of the unexpected rhythm, contradicted by the rest of the orchestra, always leads the performers to cast an instinctive glance towards the conductor, as if seeking his assistance. He should look at them, turning somewhat towards them, and marking the triple rhythm by very slight gestures, as if the time were really three in a bar, but in such a way that the violins and other instruments playing in dual rhythm may not observe the change, which would quite put them out. From this compromise it results that the new rhythm of three-time, being marked furtively by the conductor, is executed with steadiness; while the two-time rhythm already firmly established, continues without difficulty, although no longer indicated by the conductor. On the other hand, nothing, in my opinion can be more blamable, or more contrary to musical good sense, than the application of this procedure to passages where two rhythms of opposite nature do not co-exist, and where merely syncopations are introduced. The conductor, dividing the bar by the number of accents he finds contained in it, then destroys (for all the auditors who see him) the effect of syncopation; and substitutes a mere change of time for a play of rhythm of the most bewitching interest. If the accents are marked, instead of the beats, in the following passage from Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony, we have the subjoined:—
whereas the four previously maintained display the syncopation and make it better felt:—
This voluntary submission to a rhythmical form which the author intended to thwart is one of the gravest faults in style that a beater of the time can commit.
There is another dilemma, extremely troublesome for a conductor, and demanding all his presence of mind. It is that presented by the super-addition of different bars. It is easy to conduct a bar in dual time placed above or beneath another bar in triple time, if both have the same kind of movement. Their chief divisions are then equal in duration, and one needs only to divide them in half, marking the two principal beats:—
But if, in the middle of a piece slow in movement, there is introduced a new form brisk in movement, and if the composer (either for the sake of facilitating the execution of the quick movement, or because it was impossible to write otherwise) has adopted for this new movement the short bar which corresponds with it, there may then occur two, or even three short bars super-added to a slow bar:—
The conductor’s task is to guide and keep together these different bars of unequal number and dissimilar movement. He attains this by dividing the beats in the Andante bar, No. 1, which precedes the entrance of the Allegro in 6/8, and by continuing to divide them; but taking care to mark the division more decidedly. The players of the Allegro in 6/8 then comprehend that the two gestures of the conductor represent the two beats of their short bar, while the players of the Andante take these same gestures merely for a divided beat of their long bar.
Bar No. 1
Bars Nos. 2, 3,
and so on.
It will be seen that this is really quite simple, because the division of the short bar, and the subdivisions of the long one, mutually correspond. The following example, where a slow bar is super-added to the short ones, without this correspondence existing, is more awkward:—
Here, the three bars Allegro-assai preceding the Allegretto are beaten in simple two-time, as usual. At the moment when the Allegretto begins, the bar of which is double that of the preceding, and of the one maintained by the violas, the conductor marks two divided beats for the long bar, by two equal gestures down, and two others up:—
The two large gestures divide the long bar in half, and explain its value to the hautboys, without perplexing the violas, who maintain the brisk movement, on account of the little gesture which also divides in half their short bar.
From bar No. 3, the conductor ceases to divide thus the long bar by 4, on account of the triple rhythm of the melody in 6/8, which this gesture interferes with. He then confines himself to marking the two beats of the long bar; while the violas, already launched in their rapid rhythm, continue it without difficulty, comprehending exactly that each stroke of the conductor’s stick marks merely the commencement of their short bar.
This last observation shows with what care dividing the beats of a bar should be avoided when a portion of the instruments or voices has to execute triplets upon these beats. The division, by cutting in half the second note of the triplet, renders its execution uncertain. It is even necessary to abstain from this division of the beats of a bar just before the moment when the rhythmical or melodic design is divided by three, in order not to give to the players the impression of a rhythm contrary to that which they are about to hear:—
In this example, the subdivision of the bar into six, or the division of beats into two, is useful; and offers no inconvenience during bar No. 1 when the following gesture is made:—
But from the beginning of bar No. 2 it is necessary to make only the simple gestures:—
on account of the triplet on the third beat, and on account of the one following it which the double gesture would much interfere with.
In the famous ball-scene of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, the difficulty of keeping together the three orchestras, written in three different measures, is less than might be thought. It is sufficient to mark downwards each beat of the tempo di minuetto:—
Once entered upon the combination, the little allegro in 3/8, of which a whole bar represents one-third, or one beat of that of the minuetto, and the other allegro in 2/4, of which a whole bar represents two-thirds, or two beats, correspond with each other and with the principal theme; while the whole proceeds without the slightest confusion. All that is requisite is to make them come in properly.
CHAPTER VI.
How To Prepare a Score
Methodical mastery of the full score, mental reading, use of piano. Preparing a score for rehearsal and performance.
To the average layman and even a great many musicians, an orchestral score appears to be about as intricate in appearance as a blue print of a complicated engine. The simile of the blue print and the score is not inapt inasmuch as the blue print represents on paper every detail of the mechanical construction of the engine, and, likewise, the musical score is an exact description on paper of every detail of the musical composition.
No attempt will be made in this book to describe the development of the core from the days of the early Italian opera composers who did not even write out parts for the players, to our own time when hardly anything is left to the imagination of the musician, and everything is written in the music. Likewise, the aesthetic interpretation and evaluation of the musical content of the score will be left undiscussed, to make way for the presentation of the practical aspect of a methodical system of learning to read quickly and accurately the mere notes of the score.
It is related that a celebrated professional magician, in order to train his sense of vision, quickness of mental perception and memory, used to practice looking at a show window for exactly one minute and then writing down from memory the name of every article he saw therein. By practice he was enabled to increase the number of articles remembered from a relatively small number to a total which included everything in the window. Now, what the magician did with his sense of vision, quickness of mental perception, and memory is precisely what the musician must do in learning to read the full score.
Possibly the most confusing thing to the beginner in score reading is the increased demands made upon his vision. Accustomed to reading music in one or two staves, the eye is now called upon to comprehend as many as 24 to 30 staves in a glance. At first this seems an impossible task but like many other seemingly impossible tasks it can be accomplished by patient and systematic practice. Of course, every conductor has his own way of mastering a score and the author can only give his personal method. However, this method has been followed successfully by students, and in practically every case has been found successful.
It is assumed that the conductor has some ability in piano-playing. Naturally, the more the better, although it is not necessary to be equipped with the highest virtuoso technic. A knowledge of the scales and arpeggios, the ability to play Bach’s Two and Three Part Inventions and Well-Tempered Clavichord might be considered a working equipment for the conductor. Let it be explained here, that while the ideal of score reading is to be able to read and hear every note of the partitur without the aid of the piano, the value of the use of the instrument in the process of developing this ability and as a constant means of checking and proving one’s capacity is unquestioned.
The best exercise for widening or broadening the sense of vision is to practice the playing of three or more part vocal scores. A collection of early church music such as “Musica Sacra,” published by Peters, contains the most practical material. Herein are to be found in two, three, four, five, six, eight, ten and twelve parts and staves, the lovely old polyphonic works of the early Italian masters and the patient practice on these, always adding one more part, will do much toward the spreading of a sense of vision that has become limited by the habitual perusal of just one or two lines. The absolute independence of each individual part makes these polyphonic choruses highly valuable as practice material.
The second difficulty of the full score is the fact that not all of the instruments are written in the familiar clefs and many of them are transposed into different keys because of their peculiar mechanical construction.
Following the method employed in the conducting classes of the High School for Music in Berlin, the author has found the use of Bach’s chorales with each of the four parts written in a different clef, most effective in imparting the ability to transpose. These chorales should be taken from the various two-line editions (Peters, Breitkopf & Härtel, C. C. Birchard) and copied by the student on four separate lines, using the Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass clefs for the respective parts.
| The Soprano clef, |  |
| Alto clef, |  |
| and the Tenor clef, |  |
| are C clefs, i.e., the note on the staff indicated by the clef is | |
| middle C; |  |
with the Soprano clef this is the first line, with the Alto clef the third, and with the Tenor clef, the fourth. Knowing the position of middle C it should not be difficult to trace the position of the other notes of the scales. The following is an example of the old and new vocal scores:
Passion Chorale (Bach)
For variety, the student might make use of ordinary four part hymn tunes in the same manner. These chorales and hymn tunes in the old clefs must not be merely played through a few times, but are to be practiced daily until the process of playing the old clefs has become as automatic as playing in the treble and bass clefs. This will give the student the necessary mental gymnastics and make the reading and playing of the various transposing instrumental parts comparatively easy.
So much for the purely technical preparation in the process of learning to read and transcribe scores.
The following headings are descriptive of a method of score preparation generally used by modern conductors:
1. The Architectural or General Impression.
2. Detailed study of the individual parts.
3. Detailed study of individual sections (strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion).
4. Mental hearing of the composition in parts and as a whole.
5. Piano transcription as a means of checking up and ratifying the mental concept.
When a building is viewed for the first time hardly anything more than a general impression of the type of architecture, size, symmetry, and color is made upon the mind. The details of construction, materials used, number of floors, style of windows and doors are only comprehended after closer study.
At the first perusal of a score, which should always be away from the piano, the impression made is just as general as in viewing the building. Hardly more than the contour of the melody and bass, outstanding climaxes and general character can be grasped at the first reading.
Next, a reading through either with or without piano, of each individual part reveals the details of construction, and the playing on the piano of the various sections gives the harmonic and polyphonic content of the work. A practical knowledge of Instrumentation is most helpful at this stage of the work.
After this detailed study, the work should be read through mentally at about the speed of actual performance, the climaxes noted, the emotional content determined, and a diagram of the form fixed in the mind. There is always a danger of losing the perspective of the work as a whole if too much detailed study is indulged in. The ability to read and hear music without the aid of an instrument is absolutely essential for the conductor. It can be acquired to a degree by proper study. Such works as Wedge’s “Sight Singing and Ear Training” (G. Schirmer) and Robinson’s “Aural Harmony” (G. Schirmer) are invaluable helps. “Musical Form” by H. Anger (Augener) is a most practical treatise on the subject and contains clear instructions for analyzing the piano Sonatas of Beethoven and the Fugues in Bach’s “Well-tempered Clavichord.”
Upon being questioned as to his opinion of the importance of the conductor’s “ears” or hearing, Wilhelm Furtwängler, the eminent German conductor, made the following reply: “Generally considered, there is no such thing among conductors as a good or bad ‘ear.’ There is only a greater or lesser mastery of the material, that is, the score and its every detail. One can only hear individual mistakes in the complicated mass of sound when one knows completely just what the composer wanted.” (Pult and Takstock, Dec., 1925).
Of course there are conductors who learn the content of a score quickly from listening to the orchestra as they rehearse. But, it matters not how clever the conductor is, his orchestra always senses when it is being used as the means of their leader’s learning the score and their respect for him is lowered. There is a fable of a young conductor who wished to impress himself on his men by a display of sharp hearing. He secretly wrote in a false F♯ in the second bassoon part of a particularly loud and boisterous passage. At the rehearsal in the midst of the orchestral rumpus he suddenly stopped the orchestra and cried out impatiently, “F sharp, F sharp in the second bassoon is wrong,” only to be answered by the first player, “Beg pardon, Sir, the second bassoon is absent today.”
To play a full score accurately and fluently on the piano, is an art in itself and in the course of musical history we hear of only a few musicians who really could do this. Saint-Saëns, Liszt, and Von Buelow were said to be proficient in this difficult art, and undoubtedly their marvelous piano technique was a most important factor in their prima-vista score transcriptions. To fluently play a printed pianoforte arrangement of a Beethoven Symphony takes as much technique as to play one of his sonatas. We must not forget the comparative simplicity of even a Wagner score when compared with such a work as Varese’s “L’Amériques” or “The Rites of Spring” by Stravinsky, and it is just likely that any of the three masters just mentioned would have great difficulty in reading Honegger’s “Pacific 231” at the piano.
For the average conductor then, the piano does not become the supreme channel for expressing the score, but is used merely as an aid to his mental and spiritual master of its intricacies.
There still remains for discussion one phase in the work of score preparation, and that is—memory. Just as among concert players the old custom of playing from the printed page has given way to the one of playing and singing everything from memory, so have modern conductors taken to dispensing with their scores in performance.
The increased amount of preparatory work involved in memorizing a score certainly gives one an increased insight into the composition and to be freed from the necessity of reading the printed page gives a much greater authority and command in the whole attitude of the conductor at the performance. We never read of any great military commander leading his troops to battle with his eyes glued on the map, and we have all heard of the conductors who have their heads in the score when they should have the score in their heads. Arturo Toscanini memorizes every detail of the score before the first rehearsal and conducts even the rehearsals from memory. This, of course, is such miraculous achievement in the mastery of the purely technical that it ceases to be technique and becomes an integral part of the conductor’s being.
The improved gramophone with the new process records of the great orchestral, choral and operatic masterworks can be put to splendid use by the student of conducting. Score in hand, these records should be listened to until completely absorbed and then they should be conducted. The operatic arias are particularly good practice for practising the art of conducting accompaniments.
In concluding this chapter the following paragraph from Adrian Boult’s “Handbook on the Technique of Conducting” is most fitting. He says, “In conducting there is a double mental process. There is the process of thinking ahead and preparing the orchestra for what is to come, that is to say, of driving it like a locomotive. There is also the process of listening and noting difficulties and points that must be altered, in fact of watching the music, as a guard watches his train. At rehearsal the second of these is the more important. Occasionally one must take hold and drive one’s forces to the top of a climax, just as a boat’s crew on the day before the race does one minute of its hardest racing, but takes it pretty easy otherwise. The main thing at a rehearsal is to watch results and to act on them. At a performance it is the other way about—the conductor must take the lead. It is then too late to alter things like faulty balance or wrong expression, but the structure and balance of the work as a whole and the right spirit are the two things of paramount importance.”
CHAPTER VII
The Technic of the Baton
in Choral Conducting
There seems to be in the minds of some musicians an idea that a vast difference exists between chorus conducting and orchestra conducting. In fact, it is a very common fact that there are many fine musicians who obtain excellent results from their choruses but who are completely at a loss when it comes to conducting even the orchestral accompaniment of the choral works they are presenting. The tales told by sophisticated orchestral players on their return from music festivals in the provinces about the antics of many choral conductors would be funny if they were not tragic.
Usually, the choral conductor is a good musician and knows his musical subject matter thoroughly. Through the process of much careful rehearsing and teaching, he succeeds in imparting his ideas of interpretation to his chorus, which in turn comes to understand the meaning of his gestures. Up until the first orchestral rehearsal, which is usually the only one, everything goes smoothly; but as soon as the highly trained and sensitive orchestra tries to follow the conductor’s beat, a state of utter chaos ensues. Much time is wasted, the conductor becomes irritable, the chorus demoralized, the orchestra scornful, and in general the outlook for a successful concert begins to look very black. Finally, the more practical side of the orchestra rises above the disgruntled and disillusioned attitude and it rescues the situation by playing more in spite of the conductor rather than because of him. This picture is not exaggerated and has almost a universal application. The author, in his orchestral playing days, has witnessed such scenes not only in the United States but also in France and Germany, and has been told by competent authorities that the same conditions exist in England. In fact, this little tale is one that will be verified by almost every experienced orchestral musician.
The cause of much of this ineffective conducting is a profusion of vague, meaningless (to the orchestral player) gestures on the part of the choral conductor, who has gotten into the habit of making many motions because of certain conditions peculiar to choruses and choral music. First of these conditions is the average chorus member’s rather low standard of musical ability, (in comparison with the professional orchestra) which causes the conductor to lead his charges through intricate rhythmical mazes by indicating every 32d note and beating out the melodic contour rather than giving the basic beats and subdivision of the beats. Secondly, the conductor usually has the assistance of a good accompanist who plays the piano arrangement of the orchestral score so efficiently that the conductor ceases to even think about it, and who provides a firm rhythmical background by crisp and incisive marking of the main beats of the measure. Naturally, the conductor cannot change the habits acquired during many weeks of rehearsal and when he finally finds himself in front of the critical professional orchestra, he is confronted with the task of leading this complicated organization with gestures engendered by the peculiar weaknesses of his choral body and which are totally confusing to the strange orchestra.
There is only one remedy for this condition. Directors of choruses must remember that essentially there is no difference between orchestral conducting and choral conducting, although there is a vast difference between orchestral and choral training and rehearsing. It is not necessary to give the chorus a special gesture for each 32d note of the melodic line. Chorus members will give a rhythmical performance of a work only when they are made to feel the main pulsations of the movement, and this can be accomplished only by using such established gestures which clearly mark the fundamental rhythm. Naturally, such gestures will easily be understood by the orchestral musicians as well as by the chorus singers. Of course, this refers definitely to the conducting of combined orchestral and choral forces. The conducting of part songs accompanied or unaccompanied calls for a somewhat different treatment.
In A Capella music, the conductor usually dispenses with the baton in order to gain more expressive freedom of both hands. In comparison with a choral-orchestral composition, these part songs and polyphonic choruses have but few individual parts and the conductor is not so much concerned with the actual beating of time as with the subtle indication of interpretative shades and meaning. Nevertheless, the author believes that the fundamental gestures are a sufficiently comprehensive basis for the most expressive type of conducting.
It is not the purpose of this chapter to enter into the details of choral training and interpretation. Those subjects have been admirably treated by other writers and for the chorus master seeking truly authoritative advice in these matters, the following books are recommended:
- Coward—Choral Technic and Interpretation (Novello)
- Russell—English Diction (Ditson)
- Henderson—The Singer’s Art.
- Mees—Choirs and Choir Music
- Schweitzer—Bach
- Newman Flower—Handel
- Pyne—Palestrina
- D’Indy—Beethoven
- Prunieres—Monteverdi
The last five give invaluable hints on the proper interpretation of the works of their respective subjects.
For teaching a chorus sight singing and proper vocal habits:
- Friedlander-Davison—Choral Exercises (Peters Ed.)
- Stainer—Choral Society Vocalization (Novello)
- Graveure-Treharne—Superdiction (G. Schirmer)
This last gives the conductor highly valuable suggestions of methods to obtain correct and effective diction.
CHAPTER VIII
“The Point of the Baton”
A collection of significant paragraphs by various authorities on the Art of Conducting.
“Rhythm. What is rhythm? We all know that music moves in beats or pulses, and at regular intervals—say, at every two, three, or four beats—some of these are stressed or accented. It is these accents which produce rhythm; therefore rhythm may be defined as a pattern of accents, or a phrase of pulses made characteristic by the effect of its contrasted strong and weak accents. Rhythms may be observed even in statuary and architecture. Rhythms may be regular, as when they follow the time-signatures; and irregular, as when many syncopations are introduced.”
“One of the distinguishing features of modern choral technique is what I term ‘characterization,’ or realism, of the sentiment expressed in the music.... Contrasts of tone-color, contrasts of differently placed choirs, contrasts of sentiment—love, hate, hope, despair, joy, sorrow, brightness, gloom, pity, scorn, prayer, praise, exaltation, depression, laughter, tears—in fact all the emotions and passions are now expected to be delineated by the voice alone. It may be said, in passing, that in fulfilling these expectations choral singing has entered on a new lease of life. Instead of the cry being raised that the choral societies are doomed, we shall find that by absorbing the elixir of characterization they have renewed their youth; and when the shallow pleasures of the picture theatre and the empty elements of the variety show have been discovered to be unsatisfying to the normal aspirations of intellectual, moral beings, the social, healthful, stimulating, intellectual, moral and spiritual uplift of the choral society will be appreciated more than ever.”
“The first thing a conductor requires is self-reliance, born of mastery of the subject he has to conduct and confidence in himself. If he is nervous and apologetic, if, when he makes a slip, he feels crushed and would like to sink through the floor, he had better leave conducting alone. It is the confident, not-to-be-daunted man who is fit to be a leader of men.”
“The conductor must take every precaution to make the rehearsals interesting. The test of a society’s success is the popularity of the rehearsals, and the test of the rehearsals is the feeling that if one be not attended something in the way of enlightenment or pleasure has been missed.”
“The man who lacks tact is not fit to be a conductor. Tact is the lubricant that keeps the administrative machinery smoothly working when heat and friction would otherwise arise.”
(From “Choral Technique and Interpretation” by Coward)
Novello
“Finally, one word more on the art of conducting itself. More and more I have come to think that what decides the worth of conducting is the degree of suggestive power that the conductor can exercise over the performers. At the rehearsals he is mostly nothing more than a workman, who schools the men under him so conscientiously and precisely that each of them knows his place and what he has to do there; he first becomes an artist when the moment comes for the production of the work. Not even the most assiduous rehearsing, so necessary a pre-requisite as this is, can so stimulate the capacities of the players as the force imagination of the conductor. It is not the transference of his personal will, but the mysterious act of creation that called the work itself into being takes place again in him, and, transcending the narrow limits of reproduction, he becomes a new-creator, a self-creator. The more however his personality disappears so as to get quite behind the personality that created the work,—to identify itself, indeed, with this—the greater will his performance be.”
(From “On Conducting” by Weingartner)
Breitkopf & Härtel
From Grove’s Dictionary
“Definition—The word ‘conducting’ as used in a musical sense now ordinarily refers to the activities of an orchestra or chorus leader who stands before a group of performers and gives his entire time and effort to directing their playing or singing, to the end that a musically effective ensemble performance may result.
“This is accomplished by means of certain conventional movements of a slender stick called a baton (usually held in the right hand), as well as through such changes of facial expression, bodily posture, et cetera, as will convey to the singers or players the conductor’s wishes concerning the rendition of the music.”
“Schumann was sadly wanting in the real talent for conducting. All who ever saw him conduct or played under his direction are agreed on this point. Irrespective of the fact that conducting for any length of time tired him out, he had neither the collectedness and prompt presence of mind, nor the sympathetic faculty, nor the enterprising dash, without each of which conducting in the true sense is impossible. He even found difficulty in starting at a given tempo; nay, he even sometimes shrank from giving any initial beat, so that some energetic pioneer would begin without waiting for the signal, and without incurring Schumann’s wrath! Besides this, any thorough practice, bit by bit, with his orchestra, with instructive remarks by the way as to the mode of execution, was impossible to this great artist, who in this respect was a striking contrast to Mendelssohn. He would have a piece played through, and it did not answer to his wishes, have it repeated. If it went no better the second or perhaps third time, he would be extremely angry at what he considered the clumsiness, or even the ill-will of the players, but detailed remarks he never made.”
It must not be imagined that if one is fortunate enough to acquire the style of handling the baton which we have been advocating, one will at once achieve success as a conductor. The factors of musical scholarship, personal magnetism, et cetera, mentioned in preceding pages, must still constitute the real foundation of conducting. But granting the presence of these other factors of endowment and preparation, one may often achieve a higher degree of success if one has developed also a well-defined and easily-followed beat. It is for this reason that the technique of time-beating is worthy of some degree of serious investigation and of a reasonable amount of time spent in practice upon it.
As quoted from Wagner—
“The whole duty of the conductor is comprised in his ability always to indicate the right tempo. His choice of tempi will show whether he understands the piece or not.... The true tempo induces correct force and expression....
“Obviously the proper pace of a piece of music is determined by the particular character of the rendering it requires. The question therefore comes to this: Does the sustained, the cantilena, predominate, or the rhythmical movement? The conductor should lead accordingly.”
As quoted from Weingartner.
“He should know it (the score) so thoroughly that during the performance the score is merely a support for his memory, not a fetter on his thought.”
“A good rule to follow is this: ‘Talk little at the rehearsal, but when you do talk, be sure that every one listens.’”
(From “Essentials in Conducting” by Gehrkens.)
Oliver Ditson Company.
Remarks by Dr. H. Kretzschmar
“Everything depends upon the question as to who stands at the head and how the rehearsals are conducted. Wherever one piece after the other is disposed of with the aid of piano thumping, singing must soon come to an end. The training, or at least the supervision of the individual member must form the foundation of choral activity, and the performance and study of accompanied compositions must constitute only half of the work. Constant practice in a capella singing is indispensable. It is this that trains the ear and teaches vocalisation just as well as, if not better than the study of solos in which half the faults are hidden and half the trouble saved for the less gifted by the piano.
“A choral society which now and then sings a few movements by Palestrina or a fine madrigal will give a more beautiful performance of a Handel oratorio than one whose sense for tone has not been independently awakened.”
(As quoted in “Choirs and Choral Music” by Arthur Mees)
“A Conductor who desires to organize a choral society must bear in mind: First—that he needs to make many friends; then to do all in his power to keep them; Second—that he must expect active opposition from other professionals, passive resistance from lazy singers, and discouragement from a considerable class of people who never can see how anything worth while in choral music can be done in their community. They are sometimes ‘dog-in-the-manger’ people; usually pessimists. This last mentioned class (the pessimists) are perhaps the most dangerous of all. They should be carefully kept out of the ranks of the society, for their conversation and manner are most demoralizing. One such member can do more to kill a society than half a dozen enthusiasts can do to keep it alive. The Conductor, as organizer, should bear in mind that the indolent may be stirred upon and possibly converted into willing and effective workers. If the Conductor is made of the right sort of material the pessimists will not discourage him, while the jealous opposition of other professionals will but stir him to greater efforts.”
(From “Choir and Chorus Conducting” by F. W. Wodell)
“Remember, in conducting, that your thought and gestures will almost certainly be too late rather than too early. Anticipate everything.
“When actually conducting never think of technique; it is loo late by that time. It is your job to impress what you want on the orchestra and choir somehow. How you do it is a matter for consideration afterwards, or better still, beforehand.”
“A great many qualities are needed to conduct rehearsals successfully. The two most important things are to see that everybody is happy and comfortable and to waste no time. Never stop the orchestra to say what you can show with a gesture. If a passage is going very badly, persevere with it to the end of the section, then point out all the mistakes and take it right through again if there is time. Continual stoppages irritate everybody and waste a great deal of time.”
“An enormous amount of time in rehearsing can be saved by preparation of the copies, and here the conductor must never spare his own time in seeing that the parts, if in manuscript, are clear and their expression marks uniform, that the lettering is consistent and that the letters are in places where they will be wanted for rehearsal. Everything possible should be marked in the parts beforehand. It is almost always the conductor’s fault if he has to ask the orchestra to mark anything at a rehearsal, unless he has unlimited time for this.”
(From “A Handbook on the Technique of Conducting”
by Adrian C. Boult.)