The second Wagner course relates to the "Ring of the Nibelung." It takes up consecutively the four great divisions of the work, "Rhinegold," "The Valkyr," "Siegfried" and "Dusk of the Gods," devoting a lesson to each. Each lesson contains a quotation roll of leading motives and the following examples from the scores:—Lesson I., "Rhinegold." Prelude and scene of the Rhine-Maidens, Loge's Narrative, and the finale of the work. Lesson II., "The Valkyr." Siegmund's Love Song, Ride of the Valkyries, and the Magic Fire Spell. Lesson III., "Siegfried." Forge Song, Siegfried and the Forest Bird, Siegfried and Brünnhilde. Lesson IV., "Dusk of the Gods." Siegfried's Rhine Journey, Song of the Rhine-Maidens, Siegfried's Funeral March. I know from the experience of one of my pianolist friends, how admirable this course is. He took it before hearing the "Ring" for the first time, with the result that he knew the music and the names of all the leading motives, recognized them whenever they occurred in the score, and in consequence, enjoyed the performance as much as if he had become familiar with it through repeated hearings. I may add that the catalogue of music rolls contains a complete collection of Wagner's works, making the music of this composer accessible to the pianolist whether he wishes to play it for study or enjoyment.

The pianolist holds in his hand the future of the development of music in this country. The instrument on which he plays is the only practical means as yet devised of making the great masterpieces of music penetrate to the minds and hearts of the masses. Art has to advance on its own shoulders. "I cannot rest contentedly on the past, I cannot take a step forward without its aid." The pianolist has both the past and present of music at his command.


VIII. A FEW "DON'TS" FOR PIANOLISTS.[ToC]

By way of postscript I give here a few hints to pianolists. General directions on how to play the pianola are provided in pamphlets and circulars which can be obtained without charge, and I do not propose to traverse these. The instrument is capable of great brilliancy and great power, greater than lie in the ten fingers of any pianist. This very fact is what has caused the instrument to be called "mechanical." But in reality it is the fault of the player, because, carried away by the capacity of the instrument, he is apt in the beginning to play too loudly and too brilliantly. One of the first don'ts for the pianolist is that he refrain from putting the instrument to the full test of its—not really mechanical but superhuman—capacity for brilliancy and power.

Indeed, not only the beginner, but all pianolists should bear in mind that the chief distinction of the instrument lies in its exceeding delicacy. No virtuoso can play as delicately and lightly and, at the same time, as distinctly as can the pianolist those rapid pianissimo runs and those exquisite traceries and ornamentations which are found in modern music; all of which does not mean that the pianolist never should play loudly and brilliantly, but that he should not allow himself to be carried away by the possibilities of the instrument in these directions.

Certain refinements of interpretation which the pianist long has made his own also should be observed. Don't start a trill and keep it up with an evenly sustained strength of tone and rapidity from beginning to end. Begin it a shade slower and a shade more softly than the tempo and dynamic signs indicate, let it swell and grow louder, then taper down, and slightly retard the turn which leads back to the melodic phrase. This is not a hard-and-fast rule, but one which usually it is safe to follow. The pianolist can execute his trills with a combination of delicacy and clearness that is absolutely unique.

Don't rip off runs as if you were tearing cloth. Come down with decision on the first note, begin somewhat slower than the indicated tempo and then increase the time to the proper acceleration. This is the true virtuoso effect, adopted, no doubt, because on the pianoforte it is easier to execute a run in this manner; and so, however erroneously, it has come to be considered the genuine musical way—showing that even in art we are creatures of habit.