Great Pianists on Piano Playing / Study Talks with Foremost Virtuosos. A Series of Personal Educational Conferences with Renowned Masters of the Keyboard, Presenting the Most Modern Ideas upon the Subjects of Technic, Interpretation, Style and Expression

by James Francis Cooke

On the other hand, the subjective method, right as it is in principle, can become, of course, according to the Italian saying, Traduttore, traditore—that is, an absolute treachery to the composer's ideal, if the performer's understanding and execution of the composition is not based upon long and careful investigation of all the fundamental laws and associated branches of musical study, which are designed to give him a basis for forming his own opinions upon the best method of interpreting the composition. Inadequate training in this respect is the Chinese Wall which surrounds the composer's hidden meaning. This wall must be torn down, brick by brick, stone by stone, in a manner which we would call "analytical practice." It is the only way in which the student may gain entrance to the sacred city of the elect, to whom the ideal of the composer has been revealed.

The Interpreter Must Coöperate with the Composer

In a certain sense the interpreter is a coöperator with the composer, or, more definitely expressed, he is the "continuer" along the line of the musical thought and its adequate expression. Music, of all arts, is the unfinished art. When a great painting is completed, time, and time only, will make the changes in its surface. When the great masterpieces left the brushes of Raphael, Rubens, Holbein, Correggio or Van Dyck they were finished works of art. When Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, and Brahms put their thoughts down upon paper they left a record in ink and paper which must be born again every time it is brought to the minds of men. This rebirth is the very essence of all that is best in interpretative skill. New life goes into the composition at the very moment it passes through the soul of the master performer. It is here that he should realize the great truth that in music, more than in any other art, "the letter kills and the spirit vivifies." The interpreter must master the "letter" and seek to give "rebirth" to the spirit. If he can do this he will attain the greatest in interpretative ability.

From the literal or objective standpoint, then, an insight is gained into the nature of the composer's masterpiece,—by close and careful study of the work itself, by gaining a knowledge of the musical laws underlying the structure and composition of a work of its kind as well as the necessary keyboard technic to give expression to the work,—but the veil is torn from the composer's hidden meaning, only becoming intimate with his creative personality as a master, by studying his life environments, by investigating the historical background of the period in which he worked, by learning of his joys and his sufferings, by cultivating a deep and heartfelt sympathy for his ideals and by the scrupulous and constant revision of one's own ideals and conceptions of the standards by which his masterpieces should be judged.

Studying the Historical Background

To exemplify what I mean, I could, for instance, refer to Paderewski's interpretations of Liszt and Chopin. During the time I was associated with the master pianist as a pupil I had abundant opportunities to make notes upon the very individual, as well as the highly artistically differentiated expressions of his musical judgment. It was interesting to observe that he played the Rhapsodies with various extensions and modifications, the result of which is the glorification of Liszt's own spirit. On the contrary, in order to preserve Chopin's spirit, the master would always repudiate any changes, like those of Tausig, for instance, by which some virtuosos pretend to "emphasize" or "modernize" Chopin's personal and perfect pianism. Differences in treatment are the outcome of deep insight as well as the study of the time and conditions under which the work was produced.

The study of musical history reveals many very significant things which have a direct bearing not only upon the interpretation of the performer, but upon the degree of appreciation with which the listener is able to enjoy a musical work. It was for this reason that I prefaced the first two recitals of my course of historical recitals given at Mendelssohn Hall, New York, during the past season, with a lecture upon the historical conditions which surrounded the masters at the time the compositions were composed.

The Inadequacy of Musical Signs

I have already referred to the inadequacy of musical signs. Even the mechanical guide, the metronome, is not always to be depended upon to give the exact tempo the composer had in mind. Let me cite a little instance from the biography of Ries, the friend of Beethoven. Ries was preparing to conduct a performance of the Beethoven Ninth Symphony. He requested Beethoven to make notes upon paper regarding the metronomic marks of speed at which the composition should be played. The metronome at that time was a comparatively new instrument. Maelzel, its inventor (or, rather, its improver, since the principle of the metronome was of Dutch origin), was a friend of Beethoven. At times they were on the best of terms, and at other times they were literally "at swords' points." Nevertheless, Maelzel, who had a strong personality, succeeded in inducing Beethoven to put metronomic markings upon several of his compositions. Naturally, the metronome was immediately accorded an important place in the musical world even at that day. Ries was consequently very anxious to give the Choral Symphony according to Beethoven's own ideas. Beethoven had complied with the publisher's desire and sent a slip of paper with the tempi marked metronomically. This slip was lost. Ries wrote to Beethoven for a duplicate. Beethoven sent another. Later the lost slip was found, and, upon comparing it with the second slip, it was found that Beethoven had made an entirely different estimate of the tempi at which he desired the Symphony to be played.

Even with the most elaborate and complete marks of expression, such as those, for instance, employed by Beethoven and by Wagner, the composer is confronted with his great poverty of resources to present his views to the mind of the interpreter. Extensive as some of the modern dictionaries of musical terminology seem to be, they are wholly inadequate from the standpoint of a complete vocabulary to give full expression to the artist's imagination. It also gives full scope to an infinite variety of error in the matter of the shades or degrees of dynamic force at which the conventional marks may be rendered.