Читать книгу Piano Mastery: Talks with Master Pianists and Teachers - Harriette Brower - Страница 16
THE HAND OF A PIANIST
ОглавлениеAs 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 Chopin's, judging from the casts I have seen of his hand.
"As for technical routine, of course I play scales a good deal and in various ways. When I 'go into training,' I find the best means to attain velocity is to work with the metronome. One can't jump at once into the necessary agility, and the metronome is a great help in bringing one up to the right pitch. You see by the firmness of these muscles at the back and thumb side of my hand, that I am in good trim now; but one soon loses this if one lets up on the routine.
"Then I practise trills of all kinds, and octaves. Yes, I agree that octaves are a most necessary and important factor in the player's technical equipment."
Going to the piano and illustrating as he talked, Mr. Schelling continued:
"Merely flopping the hand up and down, as many do, is of little use—it does not lead to strength or velocity. As you see, I hold the hand arched and very firm, and the firmness is in the fingers as well; the hand makes up and down movements with loose wrist; the result is a full, bright, crisp tone. One can play these octaves slowly, using weight, or faster with crisp, staccato touch. I play diatonic or chromatic octave scales, with four repetitions or more, on each note—using fourth finger for black keys.
"I sit low at the piano, as I get better results in this way; though it is somewhat more difficult to obtain them. I confess it is easier to sit high and bear down on the hands. Yes, I thoroughly approve of 'weight touch,' and it is the touch I generally use. Sometimes it is a certain pressure on the key after it is played, using arm weight.
"Ah, you are right. The young teacher or player, in listening to the artist, and noticing he does not lift his fingers to any extent, and that he always plays with weight, hastily concludes these are the principles with which he must begin to study or teach the piano. It is a mistake to begin in that way. Very exact finger movements must be learned in the beginning. As I said before, technic is such an individual matter, that after the first period of foundational training, one who has the desire to become an artist, must work out things for himself. There should be no straight-laced methods. Only a few general rules can be laid down, such as will fit most cases. The player who would rise to any distinction must work out his own salvation.
"In regard to memorizing piano music, it may be said this can be accomplished in three ways: namely, with the eye, with the ear, and with the hand. For example: I take the piece and read it through with the eye, just as I would read a book. I get familiar with the notes in this way, and see how they look in print. I learn to know them so well that I have a mental photograph of them, and if necessary could recall any special measure or phrase so exactly that I could write it. All this time my mental ear has been hearing those notes, and is familiar with them. Then the third stage arrives; I must put all this on the keyboard, my fingers must have their training; impressions must pass from the mind to the fingers; then all is complete."