“In choosing musical food for my pupils, I strive to keep away from the beaten track of the hackneyed.  The mistake made by many teachers is to give far too difficult music.  Why should I teach an old war-horse which the pupil has to struggle over for six months without being really able to master, and which he will thoroughly hate at the end of that time?  The Scherzo Op. 31, of Chopin, and the Liszt Rhapsodies he can hear in the concert room, where he can become familiar with most of the famous piano compositions.  Why should he not learn to know many less hackneyed pieces, which do not so frequently appear on concert programs?

“Herein lies one of the great opportunities for the broad-minded teacher—­to be individual in his work.  According to his progressive individuality will his work be valued.”

XXVII

GERMAINE SCHNITZER

MODERN METHODS IN PIANO STUDY

“It is difficult to define such a comprehensive term as technic, for it means so much,” remarked Germaine Schnitzer the French pianist to me one day, when we were discussing pianistic problems.  “There is no special sort or method of technic that will do for all players, for every mentality is different; every hand is peculiar to itself, and different from every other.  Not only is each player individual in this particular, but one’s right hand may differ from one’s left; therefore each hand may require separate treatment.

“An artistic technic can be acquired only by those who have an aptitude for it, plus the willingness to undertake the necessary drudgery; practise alone, no matter how arduous, is not sufficient.  Technic is evolved from thought, from hearing great music, from much listening to great players; intent listening to one’s own playing, and to the effects one strives to make.  It is often said that the pianist cannot easily judge of the tonal effects he is producing, as he is too near the instrument.  With me this is not the case.  My hearing is so acute that I know the exact dynamics of every tone, every effect of light and shade; thus I do not have to stand at a distance, as the painter does, even if I could do so, in order to criticize my work, for I can do this satisfactorily at close range.

“I hardly know when I learned technic; at all events it was not at the beginning.  At the start I had some lessons with quite a simple woman teacher.  We lived near Paris, and my elder sister was then studying with Raoul Pugno; she was a good student and practised industriously.  She said she would take me to the master, and one day she did so.  I was a tiny child of about seven, very small and thin—­not much bigger than a fly.  The great man pretended he could hardly see me.  I was perched upon the stool, my feet, too short to reach the floor, rested on the extension pedal box which I always carried around with me, I went bravely through some Bach Inventions.  When I finished, Pugno regarded me with interest.  He said he would teach me; told me to prepare some more Inventions, some Czerny studies and the Mendelssohn Capriccio, Op. 22, and come to him in four weeks.  Needless to say, I knew every note of these compositions by heart when I took my second lesson.  Soon I was bidden to come to him every fortnight, then every week, and finally he gave me two lessons a week.