DAVID HOCHSTEIN
THE VIOLIN AS A MEANS OF EXPRESSION
AND EXPRESSIVE PLAYING
The writer talked with Lieutenant David Hochstein, whose death in the battle of the Argonne Forest was only reported toward the end of January, while the distinguished young violinist, then only a sergeant, was on the eve of departure to France with his regiment and, as he modestly said, his "thoughts on music were rather scattered." Yet he spoke with keen insight and authority on various phases of his art, and much of what he said gains point from his own splendid work as a concert violinist; for Lieutenant Hochstein (whose standing has been established in numerous European as well as American recitals) could play what he preached.
SEVČIK AND AUER: A CONTRAST IN TEACHING
Knowing that in the regimental band he was, quite appropriately, a clarinetist, "the clarinet in the military band being the equivalent of the violin in the orchestra"—and a scholarship pupil of the Vienna Meisterschule, it seemed natural to ask him concerning his teachers. And the interesting fact developed that he had studied with the celebrated Bohemian pedagog Sevčik and with Leopold Auer as well, two teachers whose ideas and methods differ materially. "I studied with Sevčik for two years," said the young violinist. "It was in 1909, when a class of ten pupils was formed for him in the Meisterschule, at Vienna, that I went to him. Sevčik was in many ways a wonderful teacher, yet inclined to overemphasize the mechanical side of the art. He literally taught his pupils how to practice, how to develop technical control by the most slow and painstaking study. In addition to his own fine method and exercises, he also used Gavinies, Dont, Rode, Kreutzer, applying in their studies ideas of his own.
"Auer as a teacher I found altogether different. Where Sevčik taught his pupils the technic of their art by means of a system elaborately worked out, Auer demonstrated his ideas through sheer personality, mainly from the interpretative point of view. Any ambitious student could learn much of value from either; yet in a general way one might express the difference between them by saying that Sevčik could take a pupil of medium talent and—at least from the mechanical standpoint—make an excellent violinist of him. But Auer is an ideal teacher for the greatly gifted. And he is especially skilled in taking some student of the violin while his mind is still plastic and susceptible and molding it—supplying it with lofty concepts of interpretation and expression. Of course Auer (I studied with him in Petrograd and Dresden) has been especially fortunate as regards his pupils, too, because active in a land like Russia, where musical genius has almost become a commonplace.
"Sevčik, though an admirable teacher, personally is of a reserved and reflective type, quite different from Auer, who is open and expansive. I might recall a little instance which shows Sevčik's cautious nature, the care he takes not to commit himself too unreservedly. When I took leave of him—it was after I had graduated and won my prize—I naturally (like all his pupils) asked him for his photo. Several other pupils of his were in the room at the time. He took up his pen (I was looking over his shoulder), commenced to write Meinem best.... And then he stopped, glanced at the other pupils in the room, and wrote over the best ... he had already written, the word liebsten. But though I would, of course, have preferred the first inscription, had Sevčik completed it, I can still console myself that the other, even though I value it, was an afterthought. But it was a characteristic thing for him to do!
THE VIOLIN AS A MEANS OF EXPRESSION
"What is my idea of the violin as a medium of expression? It seems to me that it is that of any other valid artistic medium. It is not so much a question of the violin as of the violinist. A great interpreter reveals his inner-most soul through his instrument, whatever it may be. Most people think the violin is more expressive than any other instrument, but this is open to question. It may be that most people respond more readily to the appeal made by the violin. But genuine expression, expressive playing, depends on the message the player has to deliver far more than on the instrument he uses as a means. I have been as much moved by some piano playing I have heard as by the violin playing of some of the greatest violinists.
"And variety, nuance in expressive playing, is largely a matter of the player's mental attitude. Bach's Chaconne or Sicilienne calls for a certain humility on the part of the artist. When I play Bach I do it reverentially; a definite spiritual quality in my tone and expression is the result. And to select a composer who in many ways is Bach's exact opposite, Wieniawski, a certain audacious brilliancy cannot help but make itself felt tonally, if this music is to be played in character. The mental and spiritual attitude directly influences its own mechanical transmission. No one artist should criticize another for differences in interpretation, in expression, so long as they are justified by larger concepts of art. Individuality is one of the artist's most precious possessions, and there are always a number of different angles from which the interpretation of an art work may be approached.