“The Chopin Octave study, number 22, needs firm, quiet touch, elevating the wrist for black keys (as Kullak explains) and depressing it for white keys.  The hand must be well arched, the end fingers firm and strong, and the touch very pressing, clinging, and grasping.  You always want to cling whenever there is any chance for clinging in piano playing.  The second part of this etude should have a soft, flowing, poetic touch in the right hand, while the left hand part is well brought out.  The thumb needs a special training to enable it to creep and slide from one key to another with snake-like movements.

“Rubinstein’s Barcarolle in G major.  The thirds on the first page are very soft and gentle.  I make a good deal of extra motion with these thirds, raising the fingers quite high and letting them fall gently on the keys.  The idea of the first page of this barcarolle is one of utter quietness, colorlessness; one is alone on the water; the evening is quiet and still; not a sound breaks the hushed silence.  The delicate tracery of thirds should be very soft, thin—­like an airy cloud.  The left hand is soft too, but the first beat should be slightly accented, the second not; the first is positive, the second negative.  Herein lies the idea of the barcarolle, the ebb and flow, the undulation of each measure.

“Begin the first measure very softly, the second measure a trifle louder, the third louder still, the fourth falling off again.  As you stand on the shore and watch the great waves coming in, you see some that are higher and larger than others; so it is here.  The concluding passage in sixths should diminish—­like a little puff of vapor that ends in—­nothing.  On the second page we come upon something more positive; here is a tangible voice speaking to us.  The melody should stand out clear, broad, beautiful; the accompanying chords should preserve the same ebb and flow, the advancing and receding wave-like movement.  The exaggerated movement I spoke of a moment ago, I use in many ways.  Any one can hit the piano, with a sharp, incisive touch; but what I refer to is the reaching out of the fingers for the notes, the passing of the hand in the air and the final gentle fall on the key, not in haste to get there, but with confidence of reaching the key in time.  If you throw a stone up in the air it will presently fall back again with a sharp thud; a bird rising, hovers a moment and descends gently.  This barcarolle is not at all easy; there is plenty of work in it for flexible hands; it is a study in pianissimo—­in power controlled, held back, restrained.”

Taking up the Toccatina of Rheinberger, Mr. Sherwood said:  “I like this piece, there is good honest work in it; it is very effective, and most excellent practise.  You ought to play this every day of the year.  It is written in twelve-eighths, which give four beats to the measure, but I think that gives it too hard and square a character.  I would divide each measure into two parts and slightly accent each.  Though your temperament is more at home in the music of Chopin and Schumann, I recommend especially music of this sort, and also the music of Bach; these give solidity and strength to your conception of musical ideas.”