It will be observed that in the matter of so handling the volume of musical sound, prolonging it and slightly coloring it by the use of the pedal or by skillful emphasis of touch, the pianist’s attention is directed ever to the after-sounds, so to speak, of his instrument. He is interested, not in the sharp, clear beginning of the sound, but in what follows it. He finds in the very deficiencies of the instrument possibilities of great musical beauty. It is hardly too much to say, then, that the secret of a beautiful or sympathetic touch, which has long been considered to be hidden in the method of striking the keys, may be found quite as much in the treatment of sounds after the keys have been struck. It is a mystery which can by no means be wholly solved by a muscular training of the hands; for a great part of such training is concerned only with the actual striking of the keys.
We have already said that striking the keys must produce more or less unmusical sounds. These sounds are not without great value. They emphasize rhythm, for example, and by virtue of them the piano is second to no instrument in effects of pronounced, stimulating rhythm. The pianist wields in this regard almost the power of the drummer to stir men to frenzy, a power which is by no means to be despised. In martial music and in other kinds of vigorous music the piano is almost without shortcomings. But inasmuch as a great part of pianoforte music is not in this vigorous vein, but rather in a vein of softer, more imaginative beauty, the pianist must constantly study how to subject these unmusical sounds to the after-sounds which follow them. In this study he will come upon the secret of the legato style of playing.
If the violinist wishes to play a phrase in a smooth legato style, he does not use a new stroke of his bow for each note. If he did so, he would virtually be attacking the separate notes, consequently emphasizing them, and punctuating each from the other. Fortunately for him, he need not do so; but the pianist cannot do otherwise. Each note he plays must be struck from the strings of his instrument by a hammer. He can only approximate a legato style—by concealing, in one way or another, the sounds which accompany this blow.
The so-called legato touch on the keyboard is one in which the fingers cling closely to the keys, and by which, therefore, the keys are pressed down rather than struck. In this way the player actually eliminates one of the three sounds of attack, namely, that of the finger hitting the key. To a certain extent he also minimizes the sound of the key hitting its base, a sound which, moreover, the felt cushion of the base does much to lessen. At the risk of throwing all preconceived theories of legato touch into question, it may be said that this unpleasant sound can be wholly eliminated by a sort of light, quick, lifting touch, which, without driving the key down even to its base, will yet cause the hammer to spring up and hit the string above it.
By such means as these the pianist can at least subdue, if he cannot silence, the noises which in some measure must inevitably accompany his playing. The more he can do so, the smoother and pleasanter his playing will become. In so far as the tone of the pianoforte can be sensuous and warm, he can make it so in the measure in which he avoids giving prominence to the blows and thuds which ever threaten it perilously. The player who pounds is the player whose ear has not taken into account this harsh and unmusical accompaniment of noises. The player who can make the piano sing is he who, in listening to the mysterious vibrations of its after-sounds, has come to recognize and subdue those noises which too often interrupt and obscure them.
The value of the piano as an instrument of musical expression will always be the subject of discussion. It has undoubtedly two great shortcomings, which place the pianist under serious disadvantages. It cannot sustain tone, and the tones which can be produced on it will ever be more or less marred by unmusical noises which cannot often be avoided. But these very shortcomings make possible some peculiar beauties and a peculiar vitality which characterize pianoforte music alone. And, apart from these, in its great power, its possibilities of dynamic nuances, and its unlimited scope of harmonic effects, it is not excelled, if, indeed, it is equalled, by any other single instrument.
Finally, let it be remembered that there is in a great deal of pianoforte music—in that of Mozart, Schubert, Schumann, Chopin, Brahms and Debussy—almost unfailingly an intimacy of mood. It is for this quality of intimacy that pianoforte music will long be cherished
as chamber music. It is a quality of which the player who wishes not only to interpret great music, but also to win what there is of genuine musical beauty from his instrument, should ever be mindful.
Harold Bauer
November, 1915.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME SEVEN