Page 738 NOV EMBER 1920 THE ETUDE Fingers versus Brains By E. M. Trevenen Dawson ing-note, and the old "folk-music" scales, also many of the oriental scales, have no major seventh from the key-note. Thus the leading-note' (the note which is induced in modulations by a sharp or a natural) is not so insistent in the child's harmonic sense as the subdominant. Mod-ern composers play freely with the leading-note, Arthur Hinton for example, in his choral setting of John Fletch-er's Sleep (a piece published by Fischer and Bro.) reproducing the old musica ficta. But few of them take liberties with the subdominant. Therefore since the mind can accept a lowered or an incorrectly treated leading-note, the young student of piano playing fails to realize the harmonic significance of the accidental sharps, and has in consequence no quick and compelling inspiration to read them accurately, which by natural process makes sharps "hard" to understand, or at least makes them harder to understand than flats. The practical outcome of these explanations of the problem is that pupils must be taught to grasp at once, and very firmly, the strong, rising nature of modulations through sharps and helped to feel the power of the new tonality. This of course presupposes some knowledge of theory, and indeed such knowledge is quite necessary where the trouble is pronounced. I have found it good to teach children to transpose hymn-tunes and other simple music that proceeds without modulation, from E to E flat, A to A flat, C-minor to C sharp minor, F minor to F sharp minor, and B flat major to B major, with vice versa transpositions in all instances but the last. After a little practice, the average child will carry the new key signature in his head, after which sharps cease from troubling and the double sharp is at rest. Obviously the teacher should select pieces as carefully for notational difficulty as for technical. An earnest pu-pil will work willingly at a bit of hard playing who will shirk a bit of hard reading. Knotty modulations and chromaticisms are like big words in a poem—they make the pupil feel "silly," which is the very worst frame of mind for him. I have often found that the reason why a pupil has come unprepared week after week with a piece that to me seemed easy enough, has been that a group of sharps somewhere in the piece has made it un-grateful to him. Mr. Corey speaks of the difficulty as being "an hallu-cination of the imagination." I think it is something deeper and more real than this; but if it is an hallucina-tion of the mind, we as teachers must be most infinitely careful in our treatment of it, because such hallucina-tions lead to fear, diffidence, and that most fatal mood of the musician, nervousness. Effective Finger Exercises By Angela Becker IN many European conservatories the following exer-cises, practiced in a special manner, are a part of the regular daily technical menu. If they are done without strain and without permitting the hand to become unduly tired they seem to produce strength, independence and excellent finger control. The trouble is however that the enthusiastic pupil, who notices improvement after a little trial, carries the work to excess by practicing them too long or too hard and thus produces strained hand and muscles and causes all sorts of injuries. Have patience— don't try to become a Liszt or a Paderewski in a year or two years—you can't do it. Muscular development takes time and you are not saving anything by over-doing it. In the following we have the familiar exercise of holding down four fingers while the others play. Place the five fingers of the right hand on C D E F G. Hold down all but the thumb. By holding down we do not mean pushing down. Just let the natural weight of the arm and the least possible additional pressure keep the keys down. Play the thumb four beats to the measure for eight measures in the following gradations of tone: First measure, pianissimo; second measure, piano; third measure, mezzo forte; fourth measure, forte; fifth measure, fortissimo; sixth measure, forte; seventh meas-ure, piano; eighth measure, pianissimo. Even in your fortissimo there must be no strain. Then get a copy of Herz Exercises and play the exercises with three fingers Sustained, two fingers sustained, and one finger sus-tained in like manner. In six months you will notice a revolutionary difference in ybur playing. THA T acrobatic fingers rattling off difficult bravura passages with ease should be immensely admired and envied by pupils, is a matter of course. And the younger the pupil, the more he admires velocity as a rule; so that a piece full of sixty-fourth notes is looked on with awe, and considered much more wonderful than one which has its pages chiefly full of quarter notes or even eighths! As this is a shockingly bad foundation to build on, teachers will be well advised to lose no time in im-pressing on even the very youngest of their pupils the worthlessness of mere mechanical "fingers" in compari-son with musical "brains." Years ago—say, a generation ago—it used to be com-mon enough for piano teachers to lay undue stress upon linger work, insisting on the lion's share of the daily practice being devoted to endless "five-finger exercises" knd wearisome "etudes de velocite," or even so-called "dumb pianos" and other mechanical devices for exer-cising the fingers. Nowadays, however, the pendulum shows a tendency to swing too far the other way; for although it is all to the good that most music teachers explain something of the structure of all compositions given, it is quite possible to devote too much attention to "brains." Thus I have known far too much of a piano lesson spent in analyzing a piece, and too little to incul-cating the correct touch. Especially with children and young pupils, a lot of time must necessarily be devoted to acquiring the various legato and staccato touches. So THE following paragraph is from a letter, and sug-gested a few ideas which may be of interest or benefit to others: "I regret that I was unable to go away for further study this summer. I am so afraid that some teacher who has been away will be able to prevent me from securing the pupils I need so much, and perhaps take some I already have. People here are always asking about new methods, and seem to expect something new every season. It seems to be easy to 'get by' with any sort of scheme or plan if it can only be called new." There is a pathetic tinge to this complaint that cannot be hidden. The loss of pupils is a misfortune that has the effect of destroying the courage and optimism that most of us need all the time. In point of fact, how-ever, teachers should not allow such fears to gain any lodgment in their minds. All one's pupils never stop at once. When one discontinues, another begins, and while some months may be more profitable than others, on the whole, the year averages up fairly well. So the loss of pupils is a calamity that is more or less imag-inary perhaps. Further, pupils who take up with one fad after another or who go from one teacher to another are not, as a rule, good pupils in any sense and stay with one no longer than another. Speaking generally, teachers who once become well established have themselves to blame if they ever "lose out." With regard to "new things" in the music-teaching field and the attitude of the public, towards them, it can only be said that there is no remedy, and there is no particular need of a remedy, for, in the long run, it does no harm and may be beneficial. Those of us who re-member our New Testament reading will recall that when St. Paul went to Athens he found that the people of that city "spent their time in nothing else but either to tell or hear some new thing." To be interested in something new is human nature— in Athens, Hong Kong or Pumpkin Centre. But it is not confined to musical affairs alone. Richard Le Gallienne, in a recent magazine, speaks of "That super-stition of novelty which assumes that the present must always be superior to the past," and goes on to remark: "No illusion of humanity would seem to be more permanent than that which is continually asking to be shown a new thing. A new thing may be a good thing, and frequently is so, but not because it is new. It may mark a genuine advance, but the notion that the present is necessarily an advance upon the past is a misleading error." Not only are all new things in music not necessarily good, but all so-called "new" things are not necessarily new. The best of everything is old, and we merely evolve or invent new ways of presenting things. The principles in Mason's Touch and Technic, like all prin-ciples, are from everlasting, but Dr. Mason crystallized them in such a way as to evolve a system that actually that only a small portion of the lesson, as well of tjie daily practice, should be devoted to "brains," and this should be more in the line of giving a general idea of the form of their pieces and a sketchy analysis of the harmonies, than a detailed dissection into phrases, etc. Of course, with older students half way through their 'teens, the "brains" will naturally usurp a bigger share of attention. But even here, it is worth while remembering that harmony, counterpoint and form are often studied separately under other masters, so that the piano teacher can and should chiefly confine himself to the practical side of music. This is rather important. I have known more than one examination candidate, excellently coached in the structure and harmonic analysis of a test piece, to fail miserably owing to the inadequacy of the rendering, to which too little time had been devoted. So it is as well to hold the balance even. As regards listeners, however, I don't think teachers can begin too soon or go on too long in insisting on the importance of judging a performance NO T by the finger-work, but by the amount of brains put into it. After all, only a few of one's pupils become first-rate perform-ers, whereas every one of them can become a first-rate listener, and go to make up a musically intelligent audi-ence. And if we can only train up our pupils to appraise "fingers" and "brains" at their right value, we shall be able to feel that we have indeed done some good in our generation! deserves to be called new. Epoch-making works such as this, however, appear but seldom, and so there is no occasion to be troubled over one's inability to follow up all or any of the new things that are constantly making claims for recognition. Young teachers, even those who have had abundant opportunities to equip themselves, will find it beneficial to go somewhere for a few weeks for study and gen-eral improvement—but not for an indefinite number of years. At that, too much emphasis is laid on the value of "going somewhere." It is true that "there is no end of learning," but there is an end to discipleship. There surely comes a time when we must not depend on being fed mentally by personal instruction. W e learn best by doing, by being active, not passive. What we actually get by personal instruction is a foundation. A founda-tion is of no earthly use unless it is built on, and what-ever superstructure we desire must be raised by our-selves. So if the opportunity to "go somewhere" presents itself, it is well to take advantage of it, and let the time be spent in some form of "coaching" if it is de-sired. But never forget that this alone will not re-create one, nor will it restore what has been given out during the months past, nor will it improve one's teach-ing ability for the months ahead. Mental and physical rest are needed, and they are obtained best by mental and physical exercise of an entirely different character than what we have had. A season spent where much music might be heard— opera, orchestra, organ, and so forth—would yield in-finitely better results in the way of development, re-creation and a better preparation for future work. Emerson had the right idea. "I think," he says, "could I have music on my own terms—could I go to a city and know where I could go whenever I wished the ab-lution and inundation of musical waves, that were a bath and a medicine." But suppose it is impossible to "go somewhere" for self-improvement or to hunt up something new, it by no means follows that self-improvement is not to be had. W e can always learn by our work and by our mistakes. Books and magazines are plentiful, and if teachers would read more and have more methodical ways of doing things for their own improvement, the inability to "go somewhere" might not be any hardship. The musician who reads and studies throughout the year and stays at home may be better equipped than the one who "goes somewhere" and lets it go at that. Honesty of purpose, unfailing effort to do the most for each individual pupil, a feeling of responsibility for the progress (be it little or much) of each one in his care; sincere (but judicious) endeavors to improve the musical conditions in the community; in short, a deter-mination to deserve success will contribute more to the stability of a teacher's position than most of the "new things" in a century. UL Always Something New By T. L. Rickaby
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