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