by
repeated trials in this school, interpretation then becomes crystallized
in the mind and the piece can always be given in nearly the same way. A
painter does not change nor repaint his picture each time he exhibits
it; why need the musician change his idea of the interpretation at each
repetition? To trust too much to the inspiration of the moment might
injure the performance as a whole. When I have my ideal of the
interpretation worked out in mind, it becomes my sacred duty to play it
always in this spirit--always to give my best. I can never think that
because I am playing in Boston or New York, I must strive harder for
perfection than if I play in a little town. No, I must give the highest
that is in me, no matter where it may be. People sometimes ask me if I
am nervous before a recital. It is not that I am afraid of people; but I
am always anxious about being able to realize my ideal, when the moment
comes.

"I can say I prefer playing in America to anywhere else in the world;
for there are more real appreciation and understanding here than in any
other country. Of course the great music centers all over the world are
about the same; but the difference lies in the smaller cities, which in
America are far more advanced musically than in Europe. I have proved
this to be the case repeatedly. Not long ago I was booked for a couple
of recitals in a small town of not more than two thousand inhabitants.
When I arrived at the little place, and saw the barn of a hotel, I
wondered what these people could want with piano recitals. But when I
came to the college where I was to play and found such a large,
intelligent audience gathered, some of whom had traveled many miles to
be present, it proved in what estimation music was held. The teacher of
this school was a good musician, who had studied nine years with
Leschetizky, in Vienna; the pupils understood the numbers on the
program, were wide awake, and well informed as to what was going on in
the world of music.

"One handicap the present day pianist encounters, who plays much with
orchestra, and that is the dearth of modern concertos. The familiar ten
or dozen famous ones are played over and over, and one seldom hears
anything new. There are new ones written, to be sure, but the public has
not learned to care for them. The beautiful second concerto of
Rachmaninoff has not made a success, even in the great music centers,
where the most intelligent audiences have heard it.