the world."

Niecks thinks it "superbly grand," and furthermore writes: "The
composer seems fuming with rage; the left hand rushes impetuously along
and the right hand strikes in with passionate ejaculations." Von Bulow
said: "This C minor study must be considered a finished work of art in
an even higher degree than the study in C sharp minor." All of which is
pretty, but not enough to the point.

Von Bulow fingers the first passage for the left hand in a very
rational manner; Klindworth differs by beginning with the third instead
of the second finger, while Riemann--dear innovator--takes the group:
second, first, third, and then, the fifth finger on D, if you please!
Kullak is more normal, beginning with the third. Here is Riemann's
phrasing and grouping for the first few bars. Notice the half note with
peculiar changes of fingering at the end. It gives surety and variety.
Von Bulow makes the changes ring on the second and fifth, instead of
third and fifth, fingers. Thus Riemann:

[Musical score excerpt]

In the above the accustomed phrasing is altered, for in all other
editions the accent falls upon the first note of each group. In Riemann
the accentuation seems perverse, but there is no question as to its
pedagogic value. It may be ugly, but it is useful though I should not
care to hear it in the concert room. Another striking peculiarity of
the Riemann phrasing is his heavy accent on the top E flat in the
principal passage for the left hand. He also fingers what Von Bulow
calls the "chromatic meanderings," in an unusual manner, both on the
first page and the last. His idea of the enunciation of the first theme
is peculiar:

[Musical score excerpt]

Mikuli places a legato bow over the first three octaves--so does
Kullak--Von Bulow only over the last two, which gives a slightly
different effect, while Klindworth does the same as Kullak. The heavy
dynamic accents employed by Riemann are unmistakable. They signify the
vital importance of the phrase at its initial entrance. He does not use
it at the repetition, but throughout both dynamic and agogic accents
are unsparingly used, and the study seems to resound with the sullen
booming of a park of artillery. The working-out section, with its
anticipations of "Tristan and Isolde," is phrased by all the editors as
it is never played. Here the technical figure takes precedence over the
law of the phrase, and so most virtuosi place the accent on the fifth
finger, regar