Mark Hambourg on how to play Rachmaninov's Prelude in C sharp minor, Op. 3 No. 2

The article below was published in a British periodical, 'The Music Lovers' Portfolio' sometime in the 1910s, and certainly before 1924, as it refers to Petrograd as being the location of Rachmaninov's studies.  Mark Hambourg (1879-1960) was a Russian-British concert pianist who had a major performing career before and between the Wars.  You can read about him here and you can actually see if he 'practised what he preached' in this excellent British Pathé video.  The photo, below, by Claude Harris (1883-1961) is taken from the periodical.

This Prelude, in spite of being tremendously hackneyed, still remains one of the most monumental pieces of music for the pianoforte of its kind in existence, and its popularity shows no sign of abatement. The reason is not far to seek. In the first place it obviously possesses a significance which it is the task of the performer to interpret; and, in the second place, it is the work of a composer who is also a fine pianist, and knows how to write for his instrument. In other words,it is pianistic. Sergei Vassilievich Rachmaninoff is a romantic personality, and certainly an outstanding figure in music to-day.

Though he cannot be classed amongst the extremists, he is, nevertheless, truly modern in that his style shows a natural development of his particular gifts of melody and sonority, and that his later compositions prove him to be getting more profound and more polyphonic, besides making the most exacting demands as regards technique. As he is still in the prime of life, having been born at Novgorod on April 1, 1873, the world may reasonably look for more fine compositions from him. His musical talent was evinced at an early age, for he was only nine when he became a student of the pianoforte at Petrograd Conservatoire. After three years there, he proceeded to Moscow, where he studied for seven years at the Conservatoire with Zvierev and Siloti for pianoforte, and with Taneiev and Arensky for theory and composition.

His first appearance in England was at a Philharmonic Concert in 1899, when he conducted a performance of his “Fantasie in E”, Op. 7, for orchestra, and also played two pianoforte solos—an “Elegy” and the “Prelude in C sharp minor”. Although not a voluminous composer, Rachmaninoff has, nevertheless, produced a considerable quantity of works in almost every branch of the art—orchestral music, chamber music, songs and choruses, sacred music, operas, and, of course, music for his own instrument, the pianoforte, of which I would specially mention his three concertos, his preludes, and his very attractive variations on the theme of Chopin’s “Prelude in C minor”. During the last few years he has suffered, in common with manyother artists, from the disturbed state of Russian pol:tics, and has had to leave his native country. He is at present in America, where he is enjoying enormous popularity, both as a composer and as a pianist.

So much for the man. Now for the piece with which his name is indissolubly connected. It made his reputation with the general public, who imagined that the composer had worked to a programme. Regarding the nature of this there were all kinds of fantastic surmises put forth. If I repeat one of the least grotesque of these, it is not because I vouch for or even believe in its truth, but because it may possibly aid the student to gain some insight into the character of the music. Briefly, the story is to the effect that the music depicted the dejection of the exiles as they set out for Siberia with the clash of the bells ringing in their ears—a dejection deepening into despair, until finally hope reasserted itself, and the bells brought them an assurance of the ultimate triumph of right over wrong. Whether this be so or not, the effect of bells is obvious, while the immanence of deep feeling—nay, of acute suffering—is undeniable.

In placing before the reader’ my ideas of how this fine piece ought to be rendered, I should like to say that the interpretation now set forth is the outcome of my own personal feeling and of having performed the “Prelude” many, many times in public. It will be seen that I do not slavishly adhere to the printed expression marks.

For convenience of reference, it will be well to note the form of the piece, which is plainly divisible into three parts. The first consists of fourteen bars, the middle section of twenty-eight bars, and the third part, which is an amplified version of the first, of thirteen bars, the last six bars constituting the coda.

The fundamental idea of the first part is that of two simultaneous themes. First, there is the motive of the bells in bars one and two, repeated and developed in succeeding bars; and then there is the melody above it, which is harmonised in chords. One sometimes hears the octaves played as if they, and they alone, were the melody, the chords being treated merely as accompanimental, a reading which robs the piece of its poetry and poignancy of feeling.

In starting the “Prelude” do not rush the tempo (incline rather to the slow side than the reverse); use the pedal very discreetly so as not to blur the effect, and do not indulge overmuch in rubato. The first two bars, which contain the key to the whole of the first section, must be brought out with great vehemence, the C sharp in particular being played with impressive force, and slightly prolonged beyond its written value. It will thus persist, while the upper melody enters gently, but still so as to be heard distinctly. The quaver figure in bars three, four, five, and six must be played, not with equal force, but so as to suggest a sigh, with a crescendo from the first chord to the second, followed by a diminuendo. This melody should, as it were, float above the bell motive, which is played forcibly throughout, the end of the passage having a crescendo to the pedal point G sharp in bar seven, which should be played fortissimo. Here for two bars we have a loud clangour of bells. Render bar seven with a slight accelerando, and bar eight with a corresponding ritardando. In bar nine the pianissimo returns, and the music is played as at first, but with a marked rallentando in bars thirteen and fourteen. Take care in bar eleven that the C sharp is held for its full value, and that in bar fourteen the quavers in the left hand are brought into prominence.

We now come to the middle section, agitato, and here note that I am re-numbering the bars as from this point. Do not begin it too quickly, as otherwise the effect of a later climax will be missed; and play it with a kind of muffled tone. The C sharp in the bass of bars one, two, four, and six struck rather sharply, with a suggestion of the clash of cymbals, the crotchets in the left hand in bars three, four, seven, and eight imitating the sonority of the violoncello. At the ninth bar the F sharp in the melody should be played with an accent, and an accelerando begun, coupled with a crescendo to bar fourteen, where there should be great sonority, the whole force of the piano being displayed, with but slight variation, and with ever-increasing speed, up to bar twenty-two. At the second half of this bar begins a passage which seems to suggest the culmination of absolute despair. This passage should begin with a slight holding back of the tempo for about four beats, after which it proceeds with ever-increasing impetuosity and tremendous tone as far as bar twenty- seven, where there is a slight ritardando.

After bar twenty-nine comes the return. to the music of the original subject, first section, but amplified, the general volume of sound being much augmented. The bell motive, A, G sharp, C sharp, should receive great significance, bars one and two (re-numbering again) being exceedingly slow. It will be noticed that the composer has altered his marking of the emphasis to be given to the chords from bar three onwards; it is no longer the sighs, but a song of triumph, that we hear. Therefore the chords must be played strongly, though the chief accent still falls on the second of each group of three quavers. Bars seven and eight suggest the joy-ringing of bells in a great cathedral, and the tempo must be slightly, not markedly, quicker.

We are now coming to the end of this fascinating piece. After the exhilaration of triumph follows reaction. The effect of sighing returns (bar eleven) and for two bars there must be a rallentando molto. The tempo primo is resumed at bar thirteen, and there follows a crescendo from mf up to bar sixteen, which should be given triple forte. To secure an effective and appropriate close needs a little care. There should be in bar seventeen a distinct ritardando, the chord of the diminished seventh on the pedal point being given diminuendo. The last two bars should be as soft as possible, and the piece ends as if asking a question: “What, after all, does the future hold?”.

So far as is feasible in print, the above represents my own interpretation of the “Prelude in C sharp minor” but, in conclusion, I cannot too strongly remind the student that a reading, to be really satisfactory, must be the outcome of the player’s own artistic feeling and insight. Still, I am not without hope that these few suggestions may help him to a more intimate acquaintance with the significance of the “Prelude”.

Paderewski on the best way to study the piano

Here is a fascinating article from Newnes' fortnightly 'The Strand Musical Portfolio' journal, apparently written specially for it.  I'm not sure of the publication date, but I would guess from the adverts in it that it probably appeared somewhere between 1910 and 1920.

The Best Way to Study the Piano

[This article by the great pianist was very carefully prepared. It was told by him to an interviewer, who transferred the thoughts to paper. ‘Then M. Paderewski went carefully over the manuscript. The article may, therefore, be said to represent M. Paderewski’s exact views on piano playing, prepared under the most careful conditions. ]

The first requisite to becoming a really good pianist is talent. I will say this, however: that, given good tuition, anyone with the ability to work, and application to it, can learn to play; but it will not be artistic. Nearly everyone has talent for something, and the great point is to discover that talent, to give it a fair trial in cultivation, and to stick to its development. If your talent is not for music, then find out in what branch it lies. Money—and time, which is still more precious, as it can never be regained—-will be saved, the whole life turned into another channel, and its usefulness will be greatly increased.

But lack of energy or inclination for hard work must not be confounded with lack of talent. There are many with talent who are too lazy to work; such would not make success in any art, no matter how great their aptitude. For this there is no excuse: any-one can develop energy.

The first quality for tie piano student is a natural musical gift, and then for its cultivation the energy for hard work, and the important requirement of a good, thorough teacher. In this last the responsibility of a choice rests with parents whose indifference or lack of insight may wreck the best prospects.

The sane, healthy way to study the piano is to apply one’s thought to the work, laid out methodically by the teacher, for a certain length of time every day. That length of time depends entirely upon the future that the student may decide upon. If he or she takes up music as a professional, four hours daily should be given to study; if as an amateur, two hours is enough. In both cases the divisions of time devoted to practice should not be less than one hour.

The fault most general, not only with girl students but with professionals, is the sitting at the piano as a pastime instead of working seriously. There is no instrument that offers such inducement to idle away time as the piano. Instead of taking the study of it as a very earnest one, many fall into the way of looking upon it as an amusement, idling away hours in passing agreeably from one thing to another. These misspent hours end in a smattering of knowledge and a certain amount of faulty fluency, of no solid use when it comes to practical application.

Of course, in playing the piano the fundamental factor is technique, but that word technique includes everything. It includes not dexterity alone, as many mistakenly think, but also touch, rhythmic precision, and pedalling. That combination is what I call technical equipment.

I consider it my duty to say why I mean that true technique comprises everything. There are good artists who have only one or two of those factors of it that I have named. They may have good facility and strength, but no rhythm, and no knowledge of how to use the pedals. In this class it would be easy to find many great artists whose incomplete command of all that goes to make technique would confirm what I have said. Again, some have all but the beautiful tone. The true technique is not made up of one or more of its necessary factors, but it must comprise them all, and each demands its special training and study: dexterity, rhythm, correct pedalling, and tone.

In speaking, then, on the subject of piano-playing, what should first be considered are these very factors of technique and how to get them.

The length of time to be devoted daily to finger dexterity depends upon what stage of technical development the student is in. For those who have the fingers already prepared, naturally less time is required, and more may be given to the study of pieces. But, no matter what stage of progress the student has reached, one hour daily of this branch of technique is indispensable.

First, begin your study each day with the five-finger exercises and the scales. Play them slowly, very legato, and with a deep touch, giving particular attention in the scales to the passing of the thumb under the hand and of the hand over the thumb. The real secret of playing rapid, brilliant scales is this quick, quiet passing of thumb and hand, and by it many difficulties may be avoided.

The position of the hand in this is of great importance. In playing up the scale with the right hand, and in playing down the scale with the left, the part of the hand toward the thumb should be held considerably higher than the part toward the little finger. Thus, by raising the inner part of the hand next to the thumb, and dropping the outer part next to the little finger, there is more room for the thumb to pass under the fingers unobstructed and easily.

In coming down the scale with the right hand, and in going up with the left, the position of the hand should be reversed—that is, hold the hand lower toward the thumb, and higher toward the little finger. By observing this position you will already be partially prepared for the passing of the fingers over the thumb, and have also, as in the case of the first position mentioned, a shorter distance to go to strike the keys.

These positions of the hand are of utmost importance not only in scales, but also in acquiring fluency in arpeggios, and in passage-playing of all kinds.

With many the quality of tone is inborn, and connected with a natural sense of musical beauty. This depends, too, in great measure upon the construction of the hand and fingers. People with thick fingers have a natural tone, and consequently little difficulty in developing a beautiful touch. Others will have to work a great deal under good direction before they acquire that same beautiful tone. In the latter case the practising of slow passages with a deep touch, and without lifting the fingers very high, is most important. At the same time each separate tone should be listened to and its quality noted. The position of the hand in training depends on its natural construction, and requires individual treatment. For instance, in training, the strong hand with the thick fingers may be held even, with the knuckles down, while the weak hand with long fingers should be held with the back ball-shaped or arched, with the knuckles up.

In the training of the hand a great fault is very common, not only among amateurs, but even among professionals, and that is the bending out of the first joints of the fingers where their cushions touch the key. Such a position of the finger, its point bent out, makes the getting of a good tone impossible. Students and teachers should pay great attention to the “breaking down” of the last joints of the fingers; it is a difficulty that must be settled in the very beginning. I even go so far as to say that those whose finger-joints “break down” should not play the piano unless they have energy enough to correct the fault, and it can be corrected.

The ability of producing a legato may be acquired by two means: First by careful fingering, and second, by the use of the pedal. In the first case the quick, careful passing of the thumb under the fingers is the practical factor, always studying slowly, with a deep touch, and listening closely to the binding together of the notes. In the second case the judicious use of the pedal is the aim.

As a hint to amateurs, I would say that it is a mistake to be afraid to use the pedal in playing scales. In quick scales the pedal may be most effectively used to give brilliance and colour, but only under a certain rule. Use it on the unimportant notes—that is, on the central portion of the scale—but never on the important or closing notes. By this plan you give brilliance and colour to the quick, passing notes leading up to the climax; then, by shutting the pedal off, the final and important notes ring out with an added value, clear, firm, and effective.

It would take a volume to tell all about the pedal, but these two things are the fundamental principles of its uses to work upon, and need a very careful application. Change the pedal with every change of harmony. In playing the lower notes on the keyboard its change should be still more frequent, because of the slow vibrations and the thickness of the tone in that part of the instrument.

The manner of holding the wrist should be individual, according to the need of the pupil, and must be decided by the teacher. Some play quick octaves and staccato passages by holding the wrist very high, while others employ a method exactly the opposite. Facility in octave-playing is not a matter of strength, for often players who have quick movement in octaves have not much strength. Of course, there are exceptions, such as Rubinstein, who had wrist fluency, lightness, and endurance.

One of the most important things in piano-playing is relaxation, thoroughly natural ease of attitude, and absolute absence of stiffness or rigidity in sitting at the instrument. Before the study of technique is begun, ease of attitude in the player must be fixed by the teacher. Poses and nervous movements cannot be too zealously guarded against. Many professionals might well practise before a mirror to observe themselves. The effect of even beautiful playing is spoiled by grimaces and restless bodily movements.

Only too many think that they display a vast deal of feeling if they make frequent ritardandi and long pauses on single notes. I would call this over-sentimentalism simply the abuse of rhythm. The only way to avoid this is to keep as strictly as possible to the rhythm and the tempo. Nothing is to be gained by such affectation but distortion of the composer’s ideas. Under this same head comes the exaggeration of the rubato, so deplorably frequent in the playing of Chopin. This springs from the same mistaken notion that it adds feeling and character. The only remedy of the fault is to stick closely to both rhythm and tempo.

I am a believer in discipline. As long as a student is enjoying the advice of a teacher he should follow his directions absolutely. Anyone who would insist upon his own interpretation should not have a teacher. If he thus imposes upon the teacher, and he gives in, the loss is the student’s. A teacher, of even a small reputation, represents a system, and it is of the greatest importance in any kind of work to have a system.

As technical studies I recommend Czerny’s Opus 740, and Clementi’s “Gradus ad Parnassum,” in the Tausig edition. The Czerny is pure technique, and the Clementi is extensive and  brilliant. These, together with some special finger exercises by the teacher, suited to the individual need of the pupil, will, for a considerable time, be quite sufficient in the way of purely technical studies. Afterward the “Wohltemperirte Clavier” by Bach, indispensable in training the independence of the fingers and the tone, should be taken up, and in due course the studies by Chopin.

I do not believe in the clavier as a help to the student, because by it he loses the possibility of controlling his playing. Its help will be not for him, but for his neighbours — it will keep him from disturbing them.

It is only by playing the scales with strong accent, and the slower the better, that precision and independence of the fingers are acquired. First play the scale through, accenting the notes according to the natural rhythm. Then, as in speech, let the accent fall upon the weak note instead of upon the strong one, and play the scale, accenting every second note; afterwards place the accent upon every third note, then upon every fourth. This gives absolute command of the fingers, and is the only way to acquire it.

The piano is so rich in literature for the student at every stage of his advancement that a book would be required to give a list of all the works open to selection. To give a partial catalogue would only mean to slight a vast number of works equally worthy of mention.

I shall confine myself to naming some composers who, in the general run of study, would be of advantage to the student, and yet are neglected. First of all I should advise Mozart, because, with our modern nerves and excitement, it becomes difficult to play with calm and simplicity. And these are the qualities that are required by Mozart.

Of neglected older composers one of the greatest of them all is Mendelssohn, whose “Songs Without Words” are of such admirable use in acquiring a singing quality of tone, and whose style of writing for the piano is of the best. Then, too, for brilliancy of technique I should advise Weber.

For advanced pianists I would recommend the playing of Moszkowski among the modern composers. His compositions from the pianistic and pedagogic point of view are perfect, and it is my conviction that it is scarcely possible to imagine a more perfect “clavier Satz” than Moszkowski gives us.

Louis Gregh's 'Élégie Pastorale' - the title page and verse quotations

This piece, recorded by me twice on YouTube on https://youtu.be/-S-IPejvcvo , and also on https://youtu.be/FORQzSxfL3Y has one of the saddest underlying stories and cover art that I have seen.  Here is the cover:

Note the swain on the left offering flowers to his bride - on the right-hand picture he is paying respects to her grave.  The piece is prefaced by an extract from 'Souvenirs Intimes' by the French poet Antoine Queyriaux:

"Quand le soleil d'avril ôtait a la nature
Son lourd manteau d'hiver flétri, par les autans,
Nous allions admirer sa nouvelle parure,
Ecoutant les oiseaux qui fêtaient le printemps.
-------------------------------------------------------
L'automne vint ravir ma douce fiancée,
Nos serments échangés se sont évanouis! ..
Dans les sentiers ombreux où nous rêvions ensemble
Tout est triste et muet, le soleil est voilé.
Je la vois près de moi ...le cœur ému, je tremble...
Je crois saisir sa main... rien! .. je reste accablé! .. "

Here is my attempt at a translation (corrections welcome!):

"When the April sun has deprived nature
Of his heavy winter coat withered by impetuous winds,
We would admire her new dress,
Listening to the birds celebrating spring.
-------------------------------------------------- -----
Autumn came to rob me of my sweet bride,
Our exchanged vows have vanished! ..
In the shady paths where we dreamed together
Everything is sad and silent, the sun is veiled.
I see around me ... the emotional heart, I tremble ...
I think I am holding her hand ... nothing! I remain overwhelmed ..! "

Cover art for Pessard's 'Le Mendiant'

I meant to include this in my video performance of the piece, but forgot - so here is a reproduction:

The video can be found here on my YouTube channel.

How do I produce my piano videos?

I am often asked how I produce my YouTube piano videos (on my channel PSearPianist), so here is a description of how I am doing it just now.  I have used different procedures in the past, and may do in the future, but this works for me at the moment.

I film my performances on an Olympus LS-20M linear PCM recorder - basically a sophisticated stereo recorder with a fairly basic video camera attached - which sits on a Manfrotti tripod about six feet from the piano. 

I record the video at 640x480, 30fps - not HD but good enough I hope for the sort of video I make, which is really about the music.  The sound is recorded in MP3 at 320kbps, the best quality available on the camera.  I could certainly work in HD, but that would raise issues of computer processing power and bandwidth availability for uploading.

On most videos I play from digitized scores which are viewed on my 22" LG picture frame-style monitor (attached to a laptop by an extra-long VGA cable).  I view the scores on Foxit Reader 7, a Windows program which allows dual page display, and also allows you to choose which page shows up on the left-hand side.  I turn the pages with an AirTurn pedal set operated by Bluetooth.  Getting the connection right can be fiddly (as the computer operates on Xubuntu Linux and gives no choice of Bluetooth manager software), but would probably be more straightforward with a Windows setup.  I sometimes use paper scores (mainly for music that is still in copyright, for which I have the music), and edit out the page turns.

I do two or three takes (at least) of each piece.  Usually the final video is based on the last, with the odd patches from earlier takes, and I may repeat passages within a take if needed.  I am surprised by how often I think I have done a perfect recording, only to find that an important note is inaudible on playback - which is why multiple takes are valuable.

I then attach the camera by USB to the laptop and edit the footage using the excellent free Kdenlive video editing software.  This does everything needed: the cutting and pasting using thumbnails of the audio, adding opening and closing title sequences, and overlaying images and section titles on the footage.  I also usually put a 0.2 second fade at the end of each piece to eliminate the creaking of my piano stool or noise of the pedal coming off!  If you are on Windows, VideoPad is a good alternative (a freeware version is available from http://bit.ly/1c7SH3b ), and this is also available in an Android version.  I render my videos in QVGA widescreen 29.97fps, saving them in MP4 format with MP3 audio at a fixed video bitrate of 4000 and an audio bitrate of 192 (the highest available on the program)

As soon as the video is made and saved to file, I upload it to YouTube as 'Private' so I can store it until I want to release it by making it 'Public', at which point I add the description etc.  I learned to do this the hard way - I lost one or two videos when a hard drive failed!

You can actually set up Kdenlive with a bootable Linux operating system on a USB flash drive.  I have tried to do this for some time, but only recently succeeded, owing the the number of elements needed in a system to make Kdenlive work.  Here's how I did it, but I am sure there are many different routes:

1 - get a USB drive with at least 8Gb of storage.
2 - download the PuppEX Linux Live CD (as an ISO) from here: http://bit.ly/1Hxul0J
2 - download and run the Yumi Multiboot USB Creator available from here: http://bit.ly/1HxtPA0 (Windows program - but Linux versions are available) with the USB drive connected.
3 - Use YUMI to install PuppEX from the ISO to the USB drive (it will fall under the 'Other' category, as it doesn't appear in the list of supported operating systems - and you should use Syslinux).  Then shutdown your computer.
4 - Turn the computer on with the USB drive still in, and set your computer to boot first from USB if it doesn't already do that (you do this from the BIOS).
5 -  You will see the Multiboot menu.  Choose PuppEX from the 'Other Linux' distributions menu and then run it and set it up to your liking.
6 -  Run the Puppy Package Manager, on which you will find Kdenlive in the lists of available packages (I think you will need to install Kdenlive and also the Kdenlive data package).
7. - That's it - you can then use the USB drive with any modern computer set to allow booting from USB, which could be useful if you are making videos 'on the road'.

I hope that will be helpful - and would welcome any suggestions for better ways of achieving the same result with modest hardware and bandwidth requirements.

William Charles Levey (1837-94)

Here is a biography of the interesting Irish composer and stage conductor, William Charles Levey, extracted from 'British Musical Biography' (Brown & Stratton, 1897):

"Levey, William Charles, composer and conductor, born in Dublin, April 25, 1837.  Studied under his father (noticed below), and from 1852, in Paris, under Auber, Thalberg, and Prudent.  While there he was elected a member of the Société des Auteurs et Compositeurs. On his return to London he held positions as conductor at Covent Garden; Drury Lane, 1868-74 ; and again, later, Haymarket, Princess's, and Adelphi, etc. He died in London, August 18, 1894

WORKS.
Operas, etc . Fanchette, Covent Garden, January 4, 1864 , Claude ; Nazarille;
Punchinello, Her Majesty's, December 28, 1864; Fashion, Wanted a Parlour Maid; Music to Antony and Cleopatra, Amy Robsart, Rebecca; King o' Scots; Lady of the Lake, Esmeralda, Jack in the Box, etc.  Music to various pantomimes.

Cantatas: The Man of War, Robin Hood (for boys voices); The Ride to Ware
(humorous).

Many songs:
Esmeralda; Here stands a post; Unfading
beauty ; King and the beggar maid , Maritana,
Gay Gitana ; Lullaby, etc.

Pieces for pf , etc.
Irish overture for orchestra.

His father, RICHARD MICHAEL LEVEY, born in Dublin, October 2, 1811, violinist, was apprenticed to James Barton, leader at the Theatre Royal, Dublin, in 1826.  In 1830 he succeeded to the post, and was afterwards musical director. On his fiftieth annversary of office he received a handsome testimonial.  As a violinist he was well known at the Crystal Palace Handel Festivals, etc.  He was
also professor of the violin at the Royal Irish Academy of Music, and is still living. The violinist known as "Paganini Redividus" is his son, RICHARD M LEVEY. He first appealed in Paris, in 1850, and was for some time principal violin at Muzard's Concerts at the Hôtel d'Osmond. Then he came to London, and at the Royal Polytechnic Institution, gave a wierd impersonation entitled
"Paganini's Ghost" He has given recitals in the provinces and on the continent, but no particulars are available concerning his biography."

I should add to this that the father gave the precocious eight-year-old Charles Stanford his debut as a composer when he conducted a pantomime of his at the Theatre Royal in Dublin.

Hans von Bülow's preface to his edition of Cramer's piano studies

You are wondering: why I am posting such a dull-titled text to my blog.  Well, this is one of the most fascinating guides to 19th century piano teaching methods that I have ever come across, and since it is buried in a two column format at the front of a lengthy volume of music, I doubt if it have ever been digitized before.

The really valuable things in this are:

• a list of the studies that von Bülow used in his teaching, ranked in order of difficulty (he rated Alkan the hardest of all).
• thoughts on fingering.  It is daunting to think that HvB expected his students to be able to play Beethoven's sonata Op. 57 as easily in F# minor as in F minor

It is nevertheless worth scanning through all of it, just to get an idea of the thought processes of one of the greatest musicians of his day (and, for a while, Liszt's son-in-law).

The English translation used is by Constance Bache, and I have retained the antiquated grammar, capitalisation, abbreviations etc. to keep the period flavour!

Here is the full text:

It is not the object of the following lines fully to descant on the merits, universally known and acknowledged, and the priceless value and lasting importance of J. B. Cramer’s Pianoforte Studies. It is a work surpassed by no other, with the exception of Muzio Clementi’s “Gradus ad Parnassum “, for which Cramer’s Studies form the best possible preparation, as well as a means of education in the “technique” and “interpretation” of pianoforte playing. If Fétis, the romantic musical authority of the day, describes them as “éminemment classiques”; if his German colleague Franz Brendel, in his “Musik_geschichte”, calls them “an epoch-making foundation for all solid study”, and another colleague, C. F. Weitzmann, in his “Geschichte des Klavierspiels” (Stuttgart—Cotta), reckons them “according to their form and contents among classical pianoforte literature”, and so on, the agreement of these most noted æsthetic and theoretic writers only establishes a fact which, in the universal spread and popularity of the work, testifies most forcibly to its great importance;—a work which is here once more offered to the public in a specially instructive edition. It may however perhaps not be superfluous to justify the appearance of the new edition by a few words, although the editor’s intention can only be fully understood by a closer insight into his work itself. The need for an instructive edition of this kind has already been often felt. Ludwig Berger, who was born in 1777, and was Clementi’s pupil about 1806, thought it necessary to edit the first twelve studies with a more complete fingering; Julius Knorr, later on, did the whole work; and Louis Kohler quite recently published, as the opening number of his ‘Klassische Hochschule des Pianisten”, a selection of thirty studies with explanatory notes which are, to some extent, very useful. 

It is idle to criticise the above-mentioned editions, as the present one is only the outcome of the criticism of them. The old want remains indeed still unfulfilled: he who observes attentively the doings of the piano-playing world cannot help seeing how seldom, in proportion to its wide circulation, the real studying material contained in Cramer is exhaustively employed. A well-conceived and methodical use of this would, on the other hand, lay a firm foundation for the discipline of the virtuoso in the best sense of the word, and would in the end develop some amount of technical and intellectual maturity in the pupil. Yet with what superficiality, what thoughtless routine, do both teacher and taught generally proceed!  Either the teaching consists of a more or less pedantic “wading” through the first part, and possibly also the second, which is then naturally finished quicker; or else the entire 84 studies are taken one after an_other and literally scrambled through, with the unsatisfactory result that, in nine cases out of ten, the player who has gone through the 84 and is suddenly set down to No. 1 cannot play the first arpeggio common chord of C major rightly,—not to mention other surprises for the examiner!  The frequent practical failure of the study of Cramer’s work rests on causes which it is the aim of this edition to remove. Among these the first and foremost is the non-observance of a systematic order of succession; this, at least, has not been carried out by the author in a consistent manner.  Moreover, the English edition gives the studies in a different order from the German. The English edition, which was before us in our work, was indeed a copy in which there were Cramer’s own corrections made by himself; and this copy, which belongs to Herr Spitzweg, the present head of the firm of Aibl, was considered conclusive for the exact settlement of all indications of time and expression.  It contains also those sixteen additional studies, not very widely known, which appeared in Vienna (and were pirated in Hamburg), the chief object of which was apparently only to make up the formal number of 100: that they are not included in the present edition is therefore not due merely to their being private property. Our attempt to remedy this evil does not demand absolute concurrence, as individual considerations will always play a certain part in teaching, if the teacher does not do his work in a pedantic manner.

A further reason why Cramer’s studies have had, comparatively speaking, so little result is because of their superabundance. A similar consideration with regard to Clementi’s “Gradus ad Parnassum” induced Herr Carl Tausig (imperial Prussian Court - pianist) to bring out a selection from that work with valuable directions how to practise them properly. These were published by Bahn (Trautwein) in Berlin, and every intelligent pianoforte teacher is recommended to adopt them. Herr Tausig has with great tact cut out, for instance, those pieces which, although very valuable in themselves, arc written in strict contrapuntal style. The pianoforte fugues and canons of Clementi, far from being a suitable preparation for Bach’s “Wohltemperirtes Klavier”, would rather prove a drawback. To play Bach requires previous studies which must only be sought in other compositions of this master himself, possibly also in those of Handel (Note 1).

The author of this edition of Cramer has in like manner ruled the rejection of all those studies which do not pursue some definite technical aim. Possibly we may even be accused of not having carried this out sufficiently, and of having devoted too much space to the repetition of similar things. To this we might reply that practical experience has shown us the advantage of such various readings. Just as one must gain by perseverance a special technical facility, so the charm of a certain amount of variety in similar work acts with a stimulating and refreshing effect, and at the same time strengthens and advances the pupil, and is sometimes useful also as a test. After playing several exercises of the same sort the player should turn back again to the first of that particular kind.

With regard to some other studies, the technical aim of which is perhaps still more systematically developed in Clementi’s “Gradus”, but certainly in conjunction with greater difficulties, we may remark that in a regulated succession of studies for a complete education in pianoforte playing J. B. Cramer is the true precursor of Clementi.

It may perhaps not be unwelcome to pianoforte teachers if we take this opportunity to mention the sequence of technical studies which the editor has adopted in his own teaching. It includes all branches of studies, ranging from the beginner to the virtuoso.

As soon as the first rudiments have been learned, for which we warmly recommend the first part of the Lebert and Stark Pianoforte School (Stuttgart—Cotta, new edition) as the most solid help, the following may be taken:

I. a) The Studies of Aloys Schmitt, Op. 16 (Berlin—Simrock), besides the “Exercises préparatoires” which serve as an introduction to the first part;—to be practised in all the twelve keys. It is worth mentioning that Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, so eminent as a pianist, laid the foundation of his admirable technique with this work.
b)    To counterbalance the comparative dryness of Schmitt’s Studies, Stephen Heller’s Op. 45 may be also used at the same time.
II. (See Note 2) a) J. B. Cramer’s Studies.
b)    Stephen Heller’s Ops. 46, 47.
c)    C. Czerny’s “Daily Practice”; also his Studies entitled “The School of Legato and Staccato”, which, up to now, has been surprisingly undervalued.
III.    a) Clementi’s “Gradus ad Parnassum”, selected and edited by Carl Tausig.
b)    Moscheles’ Op. 70. 24 Studies: a work better known in north Germany than in south, and which unreservedly merits the title of “classical”.
IV.    a) Henselt’s Studies selected from Ops. 2
b)    Next to, and as a preparation for, these: Haberbier’s “Etudes-poésies” (Hamburg— Cranz); a kind of continuation of S. Heller.
c)    Selections from Moscheles’ Characteristic Studies, Op. 75.
V. Chopin’s Studies, Ops. 10 and 25; and together with them, certain Preludes from his Op. 28 which have a special technical aim.
VI.    Liszt’s 6 Etudes de Paganini (Leipzig—Breitkopf & Härtel).
3 Conzert-Etuden (Leipzig—Kistner).
12 grand “Etudes d’exécution transcendante” (Leipzig—Breitkopf &
Härtel).
VII.    a) Rubinstein: Selected Studies and Preludes.
b)    V. C. Alkan: Selection of 12 grand Studies (Paris—Richault), for the most part more difficult than any of the foregoing.

On entering the 3rd stage Theodor Kullak’s ‘School of Octave Playing” (in 3 parts —Berlin) should be taken in hand, and continued without haste but also without intermission. This is a most meritorious work, and in our opinion no other can take its place: it fully deserves the often misapplied title “l’indispensable du pianiste”. It would lead us too far to specify other useful studies of a subordinate character for special technical objects.

Finally there is a third point to adduce in justification of our instructive edition, which seems to us the most important of all. It refers to the fingering, which is indicated by the author as inconsistently as it is sparingly, and which needed both amplifying and altering in order to help the player to attain the technical end in view. To prevent misunderstanding we will explain more fully this apparently disrespectful reproach to J. B. Cramer. His active time came just at the boundary between the ancient and modern period of pianoforte playing. The modern period, keeping pace with the increasing improvement of the instrument and the increasing demands on the player, has in the course of time arrived at a system of fingering which is in many points diametrically opposed to the old style. Nowadays we note, as an essential mechanical hindrance in pianoforte playing, the inequality of the ground which the fingers have to traverse, owing to the difference in the black and white keys, and it is our chief aim to make the fingers independent of this inequality, and to enable them, by continued “gymnastic” practice, to play as lightly and freely, as safely and clearly, on the black keys as on the white, and to stumble at none of the many possible combinations of white and black keys. According to the editor’s opinion, which may perhaps be considered somewhat audacious, that fingering is the best which allows of transposing the same piece into any other key without mechanical preparation and without previous trouble of deliberation. A modern virtuoso of the right kind should be able to play Beethoven’s Op. 57, for example, just as well in F# minor as in F minor. A fingering intended to promote this must naturally overthrow all the rules of the old method; as it must be based simply and solely on a correct rendering of the musical phrase, without regard to the relation of black to white keys, or of the longer fingers to the shorter. But that old method appears chiefly to have aimed at evading the obstacles which threaten the immobility of the hand in the alternate use of the black and white keys, as it also ignored, among other things, the necessity for a different fingering for different kinds of touch, such as legato, staccato, &c. It further rejected the freedom of the thumb, which is indispensable for polyphonic playing and for avoiding difficulties in transposition, and naturally considered those composers the best, whose inspiration was always led by the outward vision of the twelve semitones of the octave on the keyboard as seven broad and flat keys with five small and raised keys. According to this idea Clementi’s Pianoforte Fugues might certainly have claimed an undoubted superiority over these of a J. S. Bach.

J. B. Cramer (born at Mannheim 1771, died in London 1858) certainly understood the necessity for breaking with that old method, far better than did his predecessor Clementi, (born at Rome 1752, died in England 1832), a more important representative artist, whose teaching Cramer enjoyed as a boy in Vienna from 1783 to 1784 only. In Cramer’s studies many traces of a reform in fingering are to be found, especially also in regard to the old restriction, already alluded to, about the employment of the thumb. But, as though alarmed at his own daring, and afraid to carry out his ideas in a consistent manner, and finally yielding to the tyranny of earlier-established custom, he frequently lapses into the old beaten track.

The editor of the present edition has thought it his duty to merge the composer who looked backwards in him who looks forwards; but he has never gone so far as to enforce another fingering for pieces in which the invention of passages seems to have been induced by practice in the old method. The Hummel Concertos, for instance, (we mean the original, and not their antiquated form) must be played with Hummel’s own fingering, which is satisfactorily pointed out in his “Pianoforte School”, without attempting either to simplify or to complicate according to modern ideas: this remark does not however altogether apply to the Mozart Concertos.

The instructive footnotes added to each study spare us the necessity of making a general explanation of things which will be duly pointed out in their own particular place in connection with their practical application. Yet we may remark by the way that, as regards the marks of dynamic expression, we have thought fit to enlarge on the somewhat sketchy indications given by the author, and similar help seemed requisite in the legato slurs and staccato dots. We have taken special care to make the text as clear as possible, and have adopted the modern principle of writing all the notes to be played by the right hand on the upper stave, and all the notes for the left on the lower stave, and also of avoiding the surplus of double lines in similar motion of two parts, and so on. With regard to the metronome signs, which have been copied exactly from the original, we cannot conceal that many of them appear to us exaggerated in speed, not merely as regards the pace for practising, but also for their tempo as a piece of music. It is possible that, as in the case of Beethoven and Schumann, the latter of whom used a defective “Mälzel” during the whole of one of his creative periods, the compass of J. B. Cramer’s metronome stood to our normal pyramid as Fahrenheit to Réaumur.

Regarding the life and works of Cramer particulars may be learned from Fétis’ “Biographic universelle”, second edition, 1866, Gassner’s “Universal - Lexikon der Tonkunst”, &c. C. F. Weitzmann’s “Geschichte des Klavierspiels” has already been referred to at the beginning of this Preface,. and we fully concur in what he there says about the relation Cramer bears to his predecessors and. successors.
Unfortunately we have not, in spite of many efforts, been able to ascertain anything certain as to the dates of the successive publication of Cramer’s Studies, the fixing of which would be of not merely historical interest. Part II was published by Breitkopf & Härtel in 1810, (when was it published in England?) and in the notice of it in the “Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung” it was mentioned that Part I had already gone through five editions, and might be counted amongst the very best studies that had appeared in those last five years (from 1805 to 1810).

Notes

1 - Just as there used to be a Dante Faculty at Florence and other Itahan Universities (Bocaccio was the first occupant of this Professor’s chair), the members of which limited their philological activity solely to the enigmas of that great Sphinx, so in music-schools there might be a similar speciality made of the study of the giant spirit of Bach—the only one that can be compared with Dante. To play Bach’s Pianoforte works in a really finished manner is a task which, apart from the intellectual powers they demand, can only be expected fiom pianists who have gained a complete mastery of their subject, and who also, for example, no longer stammer over Beethoven’s latter P. F. Sonatas. Whither the attempts to assimilate Bach’s works lead, regarded from the standpoint of a special Pianoforte chair, is shown in the most startling manner in the celebrated Czerny edition of them, the transitory usefulness of which we do not dispute, but against the indiscriminate employment of which we must strongly warn our readers, if they would gain a true conception of Bach. The above remarks do not, however, imply that an insight, depending on individual data, into the playing of Bach (Inventions and Preludes) may not be begun at the same time as the study of Cramer.

2 - The two-part Canons (not exceeding the Compass of a fifth) by Conrad Max Kunz, Op. 14, which were published not long ago by the firm of Joseph Aibl, will prove, at this elementary stage, an excellent means of education in polyphonic playing and in the gradual furthering of the independence of the two hands.