by G. Mark Wilson
Par 1
Ah, come right in. You must have lunch with me. Be
seated and tell me how all these good people are, whose
letters you brought. Don't you think I played
magnificently at the concert this afternoon? Yes? Papa
always plays with his whole soul. This is my secretary,
M. Pallottelli. He is a nice young man. You also are
nice. See that diamond scarf pin he is wearing? It's a
beautiful stone. Beautiful, but" (confidentially) "it has a
flaw in it. I know all about gems. I have a wonderful
collection — that is my hobby — but" (with a
characteristic wave of the hand), "I never wear any of
them."
Par 2
Accompanied by expressive facial, hand and shoulder
motions, this was the hearty though erratic greeting
extended by that eccentric yet remarkable genius,
Vladimir de Pachmann, who, during the interview
refused to be confined to direct replies, but insisted in
following any one of the several
tangents dictated by his imaginative fancy. However,
after a two-hour visit, the writer came away
well pleased with the additional data in his notebook. It
was unnecessary to ask questions. Sit still, remain
silent, and wait for your answers to appear in the
maitre's conversation seemed to be the plan, and it
worked out remarkably well.
Par 3
M. de Pachmann first saw the light of day on July
27, 1848, in the city of Odessa, Russia. His
piano instruction began at a very early age. While
speaking of his childhood studies he said that practice
to him was never what we commonly term work. At
present there is nothing to which he looks forward with
greater pleasure than to his daily study periods. Each
time he goes over a number he sees something new,
some additional beauty, some way in which he can
improve upon his interpretation. When deeply
engrossed, he frequently sits at the keyboard hour after
hour with little or no apparent fatigue. Yet when
physically or mentally tired, he rests for a day or so,
thus being guided by the axiom, that there is nothing to
be gained in forcing oneself to study. We must be eager
to start and just as eager to do our best.
Par 4
Except as above noted, the master devotes a portion
of every day to practice. The periods vary. On tours
the time allotted is, of necessity, short. However, when
away from the concert stage, he says, "I spend most of
my time wearing out pianos." He believes that the
metronome is invaluable to "beginners and some grown-ups."
It gives them correct measure, note and rest value.
It also assists them in attaining rapid execution but,
with a smile, "Papa Pachmann doesn't need such
assistance."
Par 5
At this juncture a young woman appeared on the
scene, with an appointment, some concert ambitions
and a desire to hear the maitre's opinion of her work.
She was decidedly nervous at first, but, seating herself
at the piano, became more self-possessed and in the end
received a pat on the back and many glowing words of
commendation from the host, who then said to the
embryo pianist:
Par 6
"Music is a wonderfully satisfying art. You may not
be conscious of this fact now but you will as you grow
older and become better acquainted with it. Attend as
many good piano recitals, operas, and orchestra
concerts as you possibly can, for by this means you
enlarge your scope, improve your taste, and learn how
others achieve good results, to say nothing of the
pleasure one derives from hearing a well rendered
program. Do not become discouraged. Fits of
depression only make matters worse. Remember that it
is impossible to master an art in a day, a year, or ten
years. Ability is a thing of slow growth."
Par 7
The subject of instruction being brought to the
foreground, M. de Pachmann remarked that a capable
instructor in the beginning saves much trouble in the end
— adding that by a capable instructor he meant a musician,
well grounded in the art of practical piano technic, who
can demonstrate the correct manner of playing and not
indulge in mere verbal theories. Moreover, he holds that
a teacher should be quick and untiring in calling attention
to faults, but just as quick and willing to
give praise when praise is merited.
Par 8
Someone who has been near Papa when the word
"criticism" was mentioned, can perhaps describe better
than I the sudden change that takes place in his mood,
tone, and actions. His gestures become vigorous, he
moves impatiently in his chair, and expressions of
resentment, resignation, anger, and despair are
alternately portrayed on his animated countenance as he
voices his opinions.
Par 9
"Criticism," he said; "I can stand criticism from
p. 660
a critic who knows whereof he speaks, but tell me,
how many really do know? In several cases, yes in
the majority of cases, it seems to me that their limit of
understanding is a third rate rendition of Home, Sweet
Home or We won't be home until morning. As I said
before, I do not mind the critical expressions of a
musician, but where is the justice or benefit in giving
space in public print to the opinions of someone,
concerning an opera, symphony, or piano recital, when
that someone knows next to nothing of such things. The
soloists and composers give years and years of their life
to schooling in their particular line of study, but it seems
that many critics are made, as Americans say 'in jig
time.' Frequently I am criticised because my feeling of
good fellowship and high spirits lead me to talk and
smile while playing. This is second nature to me and
does not detract from my interpretative ability."
Par 10
In proof of which and to show what perfect control
he maintains over his fingers and emotions, he played
the Chopin Db major waltz, Op. 64, No. 1 as only De
Pachmann can, and at the same time indulged in remarks
on such topics as the weather, the attendance at his last
concert, the tone of the piano, etc.
Par 11
Concerning technic, he expressed himself as believing
that the virtuosi of the future may possibly accomplish
more in this line than we know of today.
Notwithstanding which, however, he seemed to think
that pianists now possess all the technical skill
necessary to elevate, inspire, and satisfy our desire for
all time.
Par 12
He is very positive in the assertion that the present
day struggle or greater technical attainments has a
degenerating effect on modern music, though he makes
others share the blame with the artists.
Par 13
The public, for example, likes to be startled and
composers go out of their way to write sensational
passages. In view of which, it is to be expected that
virtuosi, in their turn, follow and possess themselves of
the ability to furnish the sensations.
Par 14
"On the other hand," he said, "'tis true some pianists
take it upon themselves to insert startling displays of
skill in their concert numbers. But I have never known a
man to resort to such methods, without lessening the
appeal, understanding, and impressiveness of his work.
Par 15
"For my part," the master continued, "I play things
just as they appear in the score; neither adding handfuls
of notes here, a group of octaves there, or arpeggi some
place else. Not that I am unable to produce these effects,
for I can do anything on the piano that anyone else can
do."
Par 16
M. de Pachmann paused here for a moment, and Mr.
Pallottelli, who was seated at the piano, created a
diversion by playing some ragtime. The ceiling did not
fall, neither did the walls bulge in, but the master
laughingly suggested that his secretary use the soft pedal
lest the shades of Wagner, Beethoven, and others rise up
and smite him in their wrath.
Par 17
The interpretation of M. de Pachmann's regular
concert numbers is the result of years of faithful study.
Moreover any novelties he may introduce are
thoroughly analyzed and rehearsed several months
before he gives them a place on his program.
Par 18
His ideal composer, needless to say, is Chopin,
although he tells us there are others who have done
and are now doing wonderful work. He himself has
written a few piano numbers, but it was simply a desire
for recreation and amusement that prompted these
efforts.
Par 19
Being questioned concerning the appeal which
the work of other pianists makes to him, he said that
there are several virtuosi playing whose work is
particularly worthy of commendation, but, with a
deprecatory shrug, "Liszt, Rubinstein, and myself,
are the truly great pianists. The first two named being
dead, I am the only one living."
Par 20
Relative to this characteristic way of deciding his own
position in Piano Land, it may be well to say, that the
maitre's manner at such times is by no means as self-centered
or deplorably conceited as his words indicate.
Such statements are made by him as facts over which he
has no control. In
brief, the impression formed by the present writer, was
that De Pachmann considers himself simply an
instrument or tool in the hands of Fate and is glad that
Fate has selected such agreeable work for him.
Moreover, there is not the slightest doubt that he is
wonderfully artistic and knows the piano as well as its
literature from beginning to end; yet emotional
temperament, musical thought, study, and mastery
dominate his existence to such an extent that there is
little room for knowledge or sympathies outside of this
field.
Par 21
Compared with other famous pianists, his hands are
the smallest of any playing at the present time. They are
rather odd in shape, the body of the hand being long and
narrow, while the fingers are short and thick. He asserts
that pianists with short fingers have greater command
over the volume of tone, style of touch, rapid execution,
etc., on account of the decreased though steadier leverage
which they of necessity must adopt. Evidence of great
muscular development is at once apparent in the hands.
This is particularly noticeable when viewed from the
side. The wrists are large and powerful, but like the
fingers are as flexible as finely tempered springs; springs
that act in perfect harmony with his mind when
producing the exquisite tone pictures that delight us now
and which we will recall with pleasure many years
hence.