Piano Mastery | Page 4

order to arrive at this result, however, the

composition must be dissected in minutest detail. Inspiration comes
with the first conception of the interpretation of the piece. Afterward all
details are painstakingly worked out, until the ideal blossoms into the
perfectly executed performance. Paderewski endeavors uniformly to
render a piece in the manner and spirit in which he has conceived it. He
relates that after one of his recitals, a lady said to him:
"'Why, Mr. Paderewski, you did not play this piece the same as you did
when I heard you before,'
"'I assure you I intended to,' was the reply.
"'Oh, it isn't necessary to play it always the same way; you are not a
machine,' said the lady.
"This reply aroused his artist-nature.
"'It is just because I am an artist that I ought at all times to play in the
same way. I have thought out the conception of that piece, and am in
duty bound to express my ideal as nearly as possible each time I
perform it.'
"Paderewski instructs, as he does everything else, with magnificent
generosity. He takes no account of time. I would come to him for a
stipulated half-hour, but the lesson would continue indefinitely, until
we were both forced to stop from sheer exhaustion. I have studied with
him at various times. One summer especially stands out in my memory,
when I had a lesson almost every day."
Speaking of the rarely beautiful character of Paderewski's piano
compositions, Mr. Stojowski said:
"I feel that the ignorance of this music among piano teachers and
students is a crying shame. What modern piano sonata have we to-day,
to compare with his? I know of none. And the songs--are they not
wonderful! I love the man and his music so much that I am doing what
lies in my power to make these compositions better known. There is
need of pioneer work in this matter, and I am glad to do some of it."

II
ERNEST SCHELLING
THE HAND OF A PIANIST
As I sat in the luxurious salon of the apartments near the Park, where
Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Schelling were spending the winter, sounds of
vigorous piano practise floated out to me from a distant chamber. It

was unusual music, and seemed to harmonize with the somewhat
Oriental atmosphere and coloring of the music-room, with its heavily
beamed ceiling of old silver, its paintings and tapestries.
The playing ceased and soon the artist appeared, greeting the visitor
with genial friendliness of manner. He was accompanied by the "lord of
the manor," a beautiful white bull terrier, with coat as white as snow.
This important personage at once curled himself up in the most
comfortable arm-chair, a quiet, profound observer of all that passed. In
the midst of some preliminary chat, the charming hostess entered and
poured tea for us.
The talk soon turned upon the subject in which I was deeply
interested--the technical training of a pianist.
"Technic is such an individual matter," began Mr. Schelling; "for it
depends on so many personal things: the physique, the mentality, the
amount of nervous energy one has, the hand and wrist. Perhaps the
poorest kind of hand for the piano is the long narrow one, with long
fingers. Far better to have a short, broad one with short fingers. Josef
Hofmann has a wonderful hand for the piano; rather small, yes, but so
thick and muscular. The wrist, too, is a most important factor. Some
pianists have what I call a 'natural wrist,' that is they have a natural
control of it; it is no trouble for them to play octaves, for instance. Mme.
Carreño has that kind of wrist; she never had difficulty with octaves,
they are perfect, Hofmann also has a marvelous wrist. I am sorry to say
I have not that kind of wrist, and therefore have been much
handicapped on that account. For I have had to work tremendously to
develop not only the wrist but the whole technic. You see I was a
wonder child, and played a great deal as a small boy. Then from fifteen
to twenty I did not practise anything like what I ought to have done.
That is the period when the bones grow, muscles develop--everything
grows. Another thing against me is the length of my fingers. When the
fingers are longer than the width of the hand across the knuckle joint, it
is not an advantage but a detriment. The extra length of finger is only
so much dead weight that the hand has to lift. This is another
disadvantage I have had to work against. Yes, as you say, it is a rather
remarkable hand in regard to size and suppleness. But I hardly agree
that it is like Liszt's; more like