THE PROBLEM OF TECHNIC
Arthur Hartmann is distinctly and unmistakably a personality. He stands out even in that circle of distinguished contemporary violinists which is so largely made up of personalities. He is a composer—not only of violin pieces, but of symphonic and choral works, chamber music, songs and piano numbers. His critical analysis of Bach's Chaconne, translated into well-nigh every tongue, is probably the most complete and exhaustive study of "that triumph of genius over matter" written. And besides being a master of his own instrument he plays the viola d'amore, that sweet-toned survival, with sympathetic strings, of the 17th century viol family, and the Hungarian czimbalom. Nor is his mastery of the last-named instrument "out of drawing," for we must remember that Mr. Hartmann was born in Maté Szalka, in Southern Hungary. Then, too, Mr. Hartmann is a genial and original thinker, a littérateur of no mean ability, a bibliophile, the intimate of the late Claude Debussy, and of many of the great men of musical Europe. Yet from the reader's standpoint the interest he inspires is, no doubt, mainly due to the fact that not only is he a great interpreting artist—but a great artist doubled by a great teacher, an unusual combination.
Arthur Hartmann
Characteristic of Mr. Hartmann's hospitality (the writer had passed a pleasant hour with him some years before, but had not seen him since), was the fact that he insisted in brewing Turkish coffee, and making his caller feel quite at home before even allowing him to broach the subject of his visit. And when he learned that its purpose was to draw on his knowledge and experience for information which would be of value to the serious student and lover of his art, he did not refuse to respond.
WHAT VIOLIN PLAYING REALLY IS
"Violin playing is really no abstract mystery. It's as clear as geography in a way: one might say the whole art is bounded on the South by the G string, on the North by the E string, on the West by the string hand—and that's about as far as the comparison may be carried out. The point is, there are definite boundaries, whose technical and esthetic limits may be extended, and territorial annexations made through brain power, mental control. To me 'Violin Mastery' means taking this little fiddle-box in hand [and Mr. Hartmann suited action to word by raising the lid of his violin-case and drawing forth his beautiful 1711 Strad], and doing just what I want with it. And that means having the right finger on the right place at the right time—but don't forget that to be able to do this you must have forgotten to think of your fingers as fingers. They should be simply unconscious slaves of the artist's psychic expression, absolutely subservient to his ideal. Too many people reverse the process and become slaves to their fingers.