“Could you give me a few guiding rules, a few Beatitudes, as it were, for the serious student to follow?” I asked Mr. Hartmann.  Though the artist smiled at the idea of Beatitudes for the violinist, yet he was finally amiable enough to give me the following, telling me I would have to take them for what they were worth: 

NINE BEATITUDES FOR VIOLINISTS

“Blessed are they who early in life approach Bach, for their love and veneration for music will multiply with the years.

“Blessed are they who remember their own early struggles, for their merciful criticism will help others to a greater achievement and furtherance of the Divine Art.

“Blessed are they who know their own limitations, for they shall have joy in the accomplishment of others.

“Blessed are they who revere the teachers—­their own or those of others—­and who remember them with credit.

“Blessed are they who, revering the old masters, seek out the newer ones and do not begrudge them a hearing or two.

“Blessed are they who work in obscurity, nor sound the trumpet, for Art has ever been for the few, and shuns the vulgar blare of ignorance.

“Blessed are they whom men revile as futurists and modernists, for Art can evolve only through the medium of iconoclastic spirits.

“Blessed are they who unflinchingly serve their Art, for thus only is their happiness to be gained.

“Blessed are they who have many enemies, for square pegs will never fit into round holes.”

ARRANGING VERSUS TRANSCRIBING

Arthur Hartmann, like Kreisler, Elman, Maud Powell and others of his colleagues, has enriched the literature of the violin with some notably fine transcriptions.  And it is a subject on which he has well-defined opinions and regarding which he makes certain distinctions:  “An ‘arrangement,’” he said, “as a rule, is a purely commercial affair, into which neither art nor aesthetics enter.  It usually consists in writing off the melody of a song—­in other words, playing the ‘tune’ on an instrument instead of hearing it sung with words—­or in the case of a piano composition, in writing off the upper voice, leaving the rest intact, regardless of sonority, tone-color or even effectiveness, and, furthermore, without consideration of the idiomatic principles of the instrument to which the adaptation was meant to fit.

“A ‘transcription,’ on the other hand, can be raised to the dignity of an art-work.  Indeed, at times it may even surpass the original, in the quality of thought brought into the work, the delicate and sympathetic treatment and by the many subtleties* which an artist can introduce to make it thoroughly a re-creation of his chosen instrument.

    Transcriber’s note:  Original text read “subleties”.