CHAP.PAGE
I. EARLY LIFE[1]
II. FROM WARSAW TO PARIS[11]
III. HIS DÉBUT IN LONDON[16]
IV. IN AMERICA[25]
V. LATER TOURS[35]
VI. PERSONAL TRAITS[40]
VII. HIS VIEWS ON MUSIC AND TEACHING[54]
VIII. AS PIANIST[62]
IX. AS COMPOSER[78]

ILLUSTRATIONS

To face
page
IGNAZ PADEREWSKI[Frontispiece]
From a charcoal sketch by Mr. Emil Fuchs,
reproducedby kind permission of the artist
PADEREWSKI AT THE AGE OF ELEVEN[4]
From a photograph by Mr. A. Schnell, Lausanne
PADEREWSKI AT THE AGE OF TWENTY[8]
From a photograph by Mr. A. Schnell, Lausanne
IGNAZ PADEREWSKI[30]
From a drawing by Venino of New York,
reproducedby the kind permission of Mr. Daniel Mayer
THE VILLA RION-BOSSON, PADEREWSKI'S
RESIDENCE NEAR LAUSANNE		[40]
From a photograph by Mr. Jean Bauler
ANOTHER VIEW OF THE VILLA RION-BOSSON[42]
From a photograph by Mr. Jean Bauler
GATEWAY OF THE VILLA RION-BOSSON[44]
From a photograph by Mr. Jean Bauler
PADEREWSKI AT HOME[62]
Reproduced from the original sketch by Mr. Emil
Fuchs, by permission of the artist
A MEMORY SKETCH OF PADEREWSKI, BY
ORLANDO ROULAND		[64]
Reproduced by the kind permission of the artist
IGNAZ PADEREWSKI[78]
From a bust by Mr. Emil Fuchs, reproduced by the
kind permission of the sculptor

I EARLY LIFE

The professional critic is rather at a disadvantage in dealing with an idol of the public. His occupation compels him to find a reason for his appreciations; he may not be enthusiastic without measure, for his nature makes him see both brilliancy and flaws in the rarest gems of art; indeed, the flaws act as a foil to the brilliancies. And so it comes about that the professional critic is often at loggerheads with the verdict of the public, or appears to be so. The public has hailed Paderewski as the greatest of living pianists. The critic may feel that in many respects he is, but cannot, if he would, endorse that enthusiastic verdict without clauses of limitation, and if he be not a master of his craft his verdict will seem all limitations and but very little enthusiasm. One recognises the greatness of Paderewski, but at the same time the mind thinks of the subtle Chopin-playing of Pachmann, the noble Beethovenish moods of d'Albert and Lamond, the clearness and demoniac brilliancy of Busoni's technique in Liszt, the grace of Pugno's Mozart-playing, the ruthless force of Rosenthal and the magical deftness of Godowsky. These pianists have their specialities in which not even a Paderewski can surpass them and in some cases cannot equal them. On the other hand, he possesses that curious magnetism which always enchains the attention of the public. It cannot be explained; yet the critic must admit its existence in the case of Paderewski or stultify himself. If sensitive to the poetic appeal of music he must feel, too, that at its best the pianist's playing has a glamour and an individuality which are to seek in the performances of many pianists who possess greater technical ability, and that all his interpretations are informed by a sincere musical nature.

It may seem absurd and unnecessary to insist on this in the case of a great virtuoso, for assuredly in piano playing, as in acting or singing, the nature of the artist counts for everything. But the word artist has become so vulgarised that it has lost its meaning, and we are inclined to separate technical ability from innate musical genius and to judge performers rather by what they can do than by what they think and feel. This is naturally the attitude of the specialist in forming an opinion on the respective merits of different players. It is not possible to dogmatise about poetic feeling or insight: we have to take these qualities for granted. On the technical side there is a standard by which we may judge apart from any question of taste. Yet in the end the specialist who may go into raptures over the beauty of tone which Pachmann has made his god, or may be hypnotised by the wonderful fingers of a Godowsky, has to fall back on the inexplicable in attempting an appreciation of such gifted artists as Joachim, Ysaye, Sarasate, or Paderewski. Technical standards do not avail. And the curious point is that the great artist, the musical executant who can think his own musical thoughts, compels our admiration even though we may criticise his playing in technical detail.

Paderewski is one of the few players who has that effect on all kinds of music-lovers. There are many reasons why the pianist should have made the effect he has. There are many reasons why he should be exceptional. For one, he was a public pianist by after-thought; at a comparatively early age, when other artists are theorising about life he was living it in earnest, and, above all, he was a Pole, a member of that extraordinary nation which has given birth to Chopin, Tausig and many minor stars in the musical firmament. Paderewski is a Pole to his finger-tips. He has the fire, the dreaminess, the power of fantasy of that race. It comes out in his playing and especially in his compositions.