ose playing was singularly hopping. Then,
there came a reaction, and with it a passion for slurring the notes.
When I was Stamaty's pupil, it was considered most difficult to "tie"
the notes; that required, however, only dexterity and suppleness. "When
she learns to 'tie,' she will know how to play," said the mother of a
young pianist. Nevertheless, the trick of perpetual _legato_ becomes
exceedingly monotonous and takes away all character from the pianoforte
classics. But it is insisted on everywhere in the modern German
editions. Throughout there are connections seemingly interminable in
length, and indications of _legato_, _sempre legato_, which the author
not only did not indicate, but in places where it is easy to see that he
intended the exact opposite.
If this is the case, what shall be said of marking the fingering on all
the notes--which often makes good playing impossible. Liszt taught
hundreds of pupils according to the best principles, yet such erroneous
principles have prevailed!
Disciples of the ivory keys are numerous in our day. Everybody wants to
have a piano, and everybody plays it or thinks he does, which is not
always the same thing, and few really understand what the term "to play
the piano," so currently used, means.
The harpsichord reigned supreme before the appearance of the piano--an
instrument which is beloved by some and execrated by others. To his
utter amazement Reyer was considered an enemy of the pianoforte. The
harpsichord has been revived of late so that it is needless to describe
it. It lacks strength, and that was the reason it was dethroned in a
period when strength was everything. On the other hand, it has
distinction and elegance. As the player can not modify the intensity of
the sound by a single pressure of the finger--in which it resembles the
organ--like the organ, with its multiple keyboards and registers, the
harpsichord has a wide variety of effects and affords the opportunity
for several octaves to sound simultaneously. As a result, while music
written for the harpsichord gains in strength and expression on the
modern instrument, it often assumes a deceptive monotony for which the
author is not responsible.
The players of the harpsichord were ignorant of muscular effects; there
was nothing of the unchained lion about them. The delicate hands of a
marquise lost none of their gracefulness as they skimmed over the
keyboards, and the red or black keys emphasized their wh
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