hat was at once learned and convincing.
A few years before, in 1872, Rubinstein had come and conquered. The
torrential splendor of his pianism, his mighty crescendos and whispering
diminuendos, his marvelous variety of tone--all were in the nature of a
revelation; his personal magnetism carried everything before it.
American audiences were at his feet.
[Illustration: HANS VON BUeLOW]
In Von Buelow was found a player of quite a different caliber. Clarity of
touch, careful exactness down to the minutest detail caused the critics
to call him cold. He was a deep thinker and analyzer; as he played one
saw, as though reflected in a mirror, each note, phrase and dynamic mark
of expression to be found in the work. From a Rubinstein recital the
listener came away subdued, awed, inspired, uplifted, but disinclined to
open the piano or touch the keys that had been made to burn and
scintillate under those wonderful hands. After hearing Von Buelow, on
the other hand, the impulse was to hasten to the instrument and
reproduce what had just seemed so clear and logical, so simple and
attainable. It did not seem to be such a difficult thing to play the
piano--like _that_! It was as though he had said: "Any of you can do
what I am doing, if you will give the same amount of time and study to
it that I have done. Listen and I will teach you!"
Von Buelow was a profound student of the works of Beethoven; his edition
of the sonatas is noted for recondite learning, clearness and exactness
in the smallest details. Through his recitals in America he did much to
make these works better known and understood. Nor did he neglect Chopin,
and though his readings of the music of the great Pole may have lacked
in sensuous beauty of touch and tone, their interpretation was always
sane, healthy, and beautiful.
Toward the end of a season during the eighties, it was announced that
Von Buelow would come to Berlin and teach an artist class in the
Klindworth Conservatory. This was an unusual opportunity to obtain
lessons from so famous a musician and pedagogue, and about twenty
pianists were enrolled for the class. A few of these came with the
master from Frankfort, where he was then located.
Carl Klindworth, pianist, teacher, critic, editor of Chopin and
Beethoven, was then the Director of the school. The two men were close
friends, which is proved by the fact that Von Buelow was willing to
recommend the Klindworth Edition of Beethoven, in spite of t
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