. This latter apparent limitation, however, is in fact one of its most suggestive beauties; for nothing is more stimulating to the imagination than the dying away of a beautiful sound, as may be felt in the striking of a clear-toned bell, or in the wonderful diminuendo of the horn. This effect, inherent in pianoforte tone, should be more utilized rather than deplored, especially since dwelling on a delightful harmony or a single dramatic note is a definite characteristic of "tempo rubato"—that peculiar feature of Chopin's rhythm. The pianoforte can neither steadily sustain a tone

nor increase it

; achievements for which the strings and the wind instruments are so valued. On the other hand, the instrument has the merits of great sonority and marvellous coloristic possibilities; and when music is composed for the pianoforte by one who understands its secrets and, furthermore, when it is properly played, it is quite the finest[215] instrument ever yet brought under the control of a single performer. Again, the pianoforte is not meant for great rapidity of utterance, such as, for instance, we associate with the violin, the flute or the clarinet. It is, in fact, often played too fast, sounding like a pianola or a machine rather than an instrument with a soul. If there be no lingering over the notes, beautiful effects have no opportunity to be heard. Rapidity and brilliance on the pianoforte do not depend on so many notes per second but on vitality and precision of accent. These admirable qualities of the instrument are due to the great number of vibrating metal strings (in a modern concert-grand, about two hundred and thirty, i.e., three strings to each of the twelve notes of the seven octaves, save for a few of the lowest bass notes); to the large sounding board (about twenty-four square feet, on the largest model), and above all to the damper pedal which Rubinstein—so appropriately—calls the soul of the pianoforte. The very term Pianoforte implies a wealth of meaning; for a special glory of the instrument is its power of shading, its flexibility of utterance, from piano to forte or vice versa. The limits themselves, to be sure, are not so striking as in certain other instruments, e.g., the pianoforte cannot produce the almost ghostly whisper of which the clarinet is capable, nor can it equal the trumpet or the trombone in intensity or volume. But it can produce a very beautiful pianissimo; and if a sense of relativity be kept, and soft effects begun quietly enough, it can be made to sound with remarkable brilliancy. The pianoforte should always be played with a keen regard for this power of shading, of nuance; the tones should undulate like the winds or the waves. Anything like the steady sostenuto level for which the organ shows itself so fitted is, except for special effects, entirely foreign to the nature of the pianoforte. Nor should we ever attempt to make it, per se, a loud, overpowering instrument. Its forte and its brilliancy are purely relative; and, when forced to do something unsuited to its real nature, it protests with a hard, unmelodious tone.

Likewise the two pedals,[216] when their technical names are understood, imply their own meaning, just as their popular designations hint at the way in which they are often abused. The pedal employed by the right foot, properly called the "damper pedal," is so named because, by its action, all the dampers of the key-board may be raised simultaneously. This allows the strings to vibrate together and to send forth great waves of colored sound like those produced by an Aeolian harp; an effect similar to that heard when a sea-shell is held to the ear. The pianoforte, in fact, has aptly been called "a harp laid on its back" to which the action of keys has been applied. Accordingly an open, flowing style (arpeggio) is one of the idioms best suited to its nature. To secure proper contrast, a massive, chordal style is sometimes employed by such composers as Schumann, Brahms and Franck—even at times by Chopin himself; but that the extended arpeggio (often merely two voices, with the body of tone secured by the pedal) is the norm may be seen from almost any page of Chopin's compositions. The resonance and carrying power of these waves are intensified by raising the lid[217] of the pianoforte; for then they are brought to a focus and projected into space. The effect produced by raising the dampers is appropriate and beautiful, not alone with consonant chords but, at times, equally with chords that are unrelated; which, were they sustained for long by an organ, would be intolerably harsh. But the tone of the pianoforte is so fleeting that such a mixture ensures great brilliance and warmth without undue jargon, and is thus akin to the blending of strange colors by modern painters. Many people, in fact, play the pianoforte with too little, rather than too much, pedal; or with too much pedal used the wrong way! A definite attempt should be made to cultivate a feeling for color and warmth of tone; a hard, colorless tone on the pianoforte being a great blemish as it is so unnecessary. The following passage illustrates the above points.

Chopin: Barcarolle