He who wishes to "carry away" his body of players as well as his audience, the former to a unanimously acted improvisation, the latter to a unanimously felt emotion, needs above all "commanding personal magnetism," and everything else must be subordinate to that.He must be "very much alive"—(highly accumulated vital energy, always ready to discharge, is the secret of all personal magnetism)—and the alertness, the presence of mind, the acute and immediate perception of everything going on during rehearsal or performance, the dominancy and impressiveness of his minutest gesture, the absolute self-possession and repose even in working up the most exciting climaxes and in effecting the most sudden contrasts—all these are simply self-evident corollaries from our first and foremost requirement.
He who wishes to "carry away" his body of players as well as his audience, the former to a unanimously acted improvisation, the latter to a unanimously felt emotion, needs above all "commanding personal magnetism," and everything else must be subordinate to that.
He must be "very much alive"—(highly accumulated vital energy, always ready to discharge, is the secret of all personal magnetism)—and the alertness, the presence of mind, the acute and immediate perception of everything going on during rehearsal or performance, the dominancy and impressiveness of his minutest gesture, the absolute self-possession and repose even in working up the most exciting climaxes and in effecting the most sudden contrasts—all these are simply self-evident corollaries from our first and foremost requirement.
THE BATON ITSELF
Before giving actual directions for the manipulation of the conductor's baton, it may be well to state that the stick itself should be light in weight, light in color, and from sixteen to twenty inches long. It must be thin and flexible, and should taper gradually from the end held in the hand to the point. Batons of this kind can be manufactured easily at any ordinary planing mill where there is a lathe. The kinds sold at stores are usually altogether too thick and too heavy. If at any time some adulating chorus or choir should present the conductor with an ebony baton with silver mountings, he must not feel that courtesy demands that it should be used in conducting. The proper thing to do with such an instrument is to tie a ribbon around one end and hang it on the wall as a decoration.
THE CONDUCTOR'S MUSIC STAND
A word about the music desk may also be in order at this time. It should be made of wood or heavy metal so that in conducting one need not constantly feel that it is likely to be knocked over. The ordinary folding music stand made of light metal is altogether unsuitable for a conductor's use. A good substantial stand with a metal base and standard and wood top can be purchased for from three to five dollars from any dealer in musical instruments. If no money is available and the stand is constructed at home, it may be well to note that the base should be heavy, the upright about threeand a half feet high, and the top or desk about fourteen by twenty inches. This top should tilt only slightly, so that the conductor may glance from it to his performers without too much change of focus. Our reason for mentioning apparently trivial matters of this kind is to guard against any possible distraction of the conductor's mind by unimportant things. If these details are well provided for in advance, he will be able while conducting to give his entire attention to the real work in hand.
HOLDING AND WIELDING THE BATON
The baton is ordinarily held between the thumb and first, second and third fingers, but the conductor's grasp upon it varies with the emotional quality of the music. Thus in a daintypianissimopassage, it is often held very lightly between the thumb and the first two fingers, while in afortissimoone it is grasped tightly in the closed fist, the tension of the muscles being symbolic of the excitement expressed in the music at that point. All muscles must be relaxed unless a contraction occurs because of the conductor's response to emotional tension in the music. The wrist should be loose and flexible, and the entire beat so full of grace that the attention of the audience is never for an instant distracted from listening to the music by the conspicuous awkwardness of the conductor's hand movements. This grace in baton-manipulation need not interfere in any way with the definiteness or precision of the beat. In fact an easy, graceful beat usually results in a firmer rhythmic response than a jerky, awkward one. For the first beat of the measure the entire arm (upper as well as lower) moves vigorously downward, but for the remaining beats the movement is mostly confined to the elbow and wrist. In the case of a divided beat (see pages23and24) the movement comes almost entirely from the wrist.
POSITION OF THE BATON
The hand manipulating the baton must always be held sufficiently high so as to be easily seen by all performers, the elbow being kept well away from the body, almost level with the shoulder. The elevation of the baton, of course, depends upon the size of the group being conducted, upon the manner in which the performers are arranged, and upon whether they are sitting or standing. The conductor will accordingly vary its position according to the exigencies of the occasion, always remembering that a beat that cannot be easily seen will not be readily followed.
PRINCIPLES AND METHODS OF TIME BEATING
If one observes the work of a number of conductors, it soon becomes evident that, although at first they appear to have absolutely different methods, there are nevertheless certain fundamental underlying principles in accordance with which each beats time, and it is these general principles that we are to deal with in the remainder of this chapter. It should be noted thatprinciplesrather thanmethodsare to be discussed, since principles are universal, while methods are individual and usually only local in their application.
DIAGRAMS OF BATON MOVEMENTS
The general direction of the baton movements now in universal use is shown in the following figures.
general baton movements
In actual practice however, the baton moves from point to point in a very much more complex fashion, and in order to aid the learner still further in his analysisof time beating an elaborated version of the foregoing figures is supplied. It is of course understood that such diagrams are of value only in giving a general idea of these more complex movements and that they are not to be followed minutely.
specific baton movements
specific baton movements continued
An examination of these figures will show that all baton movements are based upon four general principles:
1. The strongest pulse of a measure (the first one) is always marked by a down-beat. This principle is merely a specific application of the general fact that a downward stroke is stronger than an upward one (cf.driving a nail).2. The last pulse of a measure is always marked by an up-beat, since it is generally the weakest part of the measure.3. In three- and four-beat measures, the beats are so planned that there is never any danger of the hands colliding in conducting vigorous movements that call for the use of the free hand as well as the one holding the baton.4. In compound measures the secondary accent is marked by a beat almost as strong as that given the primary accent.
1. The strongest pulse of a measure (the first one) is always marked by a down-beat. This principle is merely a specific application of the general fact that a downward stroke is stronger than an upward one (cf.driving a nail).
2. The last pulse of a measure is always marked by an up-beat, since it is generally the weakest part of the measure.
3. In three- and four-beat measures, the beats are so planned that there is never any danger of the hands colliding in conducting vigorous movements that call for the use of the free hand as well as the one holding the baton.
4. In compound measures the secondary accent is marked by a beat almost as strong as that given the primary accent.
NUMBER OF BEATS DETERMINED BY TEMPO
The fact that a composition is in 4-4 measure does not necessarily mean that every measure is to be directed by being given four actual beats, and one of the things that the conductor must learn is when to give more beats and when fewer.
If the tempo is very rapid, the 4-4 measure willprobably be given only two beats, but in anadagiomovement, as,e.g., the first part of theMessiahoverture, it may be necessary to beat eight for each measure in order to insure rhythmic continuity. There are many examples of triple measure in which the movement is so rapid as to make it impracticable to beat three in a measure, and the conductor is therefore content merely to give a down-beat at the beginning of each measure; waltzes are commonly conducted by giving a down-beat for the first measure, an up-beat for the second,et cetera; a six-part measure in rapid tempo receives but two beats; while 9-8 and 12-8 are ordinarily given but three and four beats respectively.
It is not only annoying but absolutely fatiguing to see a conductor go through all manner of contortions in trying to give a separate beat to each pulse of the measure in rapid tempos; and the effect upon the performers is even worse than upon the audience, for a stronger rhythmic reaction will always be stimulated if the rhythm is felt in larger units rather than in smaller ones. But on the other hand, the tempo is sometimes so very slow that no sense of continuity can be aroused by giving only one beat for each pulse; hence, as already noted, it is often best to givedoublethe number of beats indicated by the measure sign. In general, these two ideas may be summarized in the following rule:As the tempo becomes more rapid, decrease the number of beats; but as it becomes slower, increase the number, at the same time elaborating the beat so as to express more tangibly the idea of a steady forward movement.
By carefully studying the second series of figures given on pages23and24and by making certain that the principle of "continuous movement" explained on page28is observed, the student will be able to learn the more highly elaborated beats employed in slower tempos without very much difficulty. These diagrams, like the first set, are, of course, intended to be suggestive only.
SHALL WE BEAT THE RHYTHM OR THE PULSE?
In this same connection, the amateur may perhaps raise the question as to whether it is wise to beat the rhythm or the pulse in such a measure asmusic notation. In other words, is it well to give a down-beat on 1, two small beats toward the left for 2, while 3 and 4 are treated in the ordinary way? This question may be answered by referring to the rule given on page25, but perhaps it will be safer to make the application more specific by advising the young conductor to adhere fairly closely to beating the pulse unless a much slower tempo makes extra beats necessary. The additional movements may be of some service in certain cases, but in general they tend to confuse rather than to clarify, this being especially true in the case of syncopated rhythms. The only exceptions to this principle are:
1. When a phrase begins with a tone that is on a fractional part of the beat;e.g., if the preceding phrase ends with an eighth, thus:music notation; for in this case the phrasing cannot be indicated clearly without dividing the beat.2. When there is aritardandoand it becomes necessary to give a larger number of beats in order to show just how much slower the tempo is to be. The second point is of course covered by the general rule already referred to.
1. When a phrase begins with a tone that is on a fractional part of the beat;e.g., if the preceding phrase ends with an eighth, thus:music notation; for in this case the phrasing cannot be indicated clearly without dividing the beat.
2. When there is aritardandoand it becomes necessary to give a larger number of beats in order to show just how much slower the tempo is to be. The second point is of course covered by the general rule already referred to.
The conductor must train himself to change instantly from two beats in the measure to four or six; from one to three,et cetera, so that he may be able at any time to suit the number of beats to the character of the music at that particular point. This is particularly necessary in places where aritardandomakes it desirable from the standpoint of the performers to have a larger number of beats.
THE DOTTED-QUARTER AS A BEAT NOTE
Although covered in general by the preceding discussion, it may perhaps be well to state specifically that the compound measures 6-8, 9-8, and 12-8 are ordinarily taken as duple, triple, and quadruple measures,respectively. In other words, the dotted-quarter-note (dotted quarter note) is thought of as the beat note, some modern editors going so far as to write2 over dotted quarterin place of 6-8 as the measure sign;3 over dotted quarterin place of 9-8; and4 over dotted quarterin place of 12-8. In conducting these various types of measure, the general principle given on page25again applies, and if the tempo is very slow, the conductor beats 6, 9, or 12, to the measure, but if it is rapid, the flow of the rhythm is much better indicated by 2, 3, and 4 beats respectively.
FIVE- AND SEVEN-BEAT MEASURES
Although only occasionally encountered by the amateur, five- and seven-beat measures are now made use of frequently enough by composers to make some explanation of their treatment appropriate. A five-beat measure (quintuple) is a compound measure comprising a two-beat and a three-beat one. Sometimes the two-beat group is first, and sometimes the three-beat one. If the former, then the conductor's beat will be down-up, down-right-up. But if it is the other way about, then the beat will naturally be down-right-up, down-up. "But how am I to know which comes first?" asks the tyro. And our answer is, "Study the music, and if you cannot find out in this way, you ought not to be conducting the composition."
Just as quintuple measure is a compound measure comprising two pulse-groups, one of three and the other of two beats, so seven-beat measure (septuple) consists of a four-beat group plus a three-beat one. If the four-beat measure is first, the conductor's beat will be down-left-right-up, down-right-up;i.e., the regular movements for quadruple measure followed by those for triple; but if the combination is three plus four, it will be the other way about. Sometimes the composer helps the conductor by placing a dotted bar between the two parts of the septuple measure, thus:music notation.
AN IMPORTANT PRINCIPLE OF TIME BEATING
The most fundamental principle of time beating, and the one concerning which the young conductor is apt to be most ignorant, is the following:The baton must not usually come to a standstill at the points marking the beats, neither must it move in a straight line from one point to another, except in the case of the down beat; for it is the free and varying movement of the baton between any two beats that gives the singers or players their cue as to where the second of the two is to come.We may go further and say that the preliminary movement made before the baton arrives at what might be termed the "bottom" of the beat is actually more important than the "bottom" of the beat itself. When the baton is brought down for the first beat of the measure, the muscles contract until the imaginary point which the baton is to strike has been reached, relaxing while the hand moves on to the next point (i.e., the second beat) gradually contracting again as this point is reached, and relaxing immediately afterward as the hand moves on to the third beat. In the diagrams of baton movements given on preceding pages, the accumulating force of muscular contraction is shown by the gradually increasing thickness of the line, proceeding from the initial part of the stroke to its culmination; while the light curved line immediately following this culmination indicates the so-called "back-stroke," the muscular relaxation. It is easy to see that this muscular contraction is what gives the beat its definiteness, its "bottom," while the relaxation is what gives the effect of continuity or flow. It will be noticed that when the baton is brought down on an accented beat, the beginning of the back-stroke is felt by the conductor as a sort of "rebound" of the baton from the bottom of the beat, and this sensation of rebounding helps greatly in giving "point" to these accented beats.
In order to understand fully the principle that we have just been discussing, it must be recalled that rhythm isnot a succession of jerks, but is basically a steady flow, a regular succession of similar impulses, the wordrhythmitself coming from a Greek stem meaning "flow." Like all other good things, this theory of continuous movement may be carried to excess, and one occasionally sees conducting that has so much "back-stroke" that there is no definiteness of beat whatsoever; in other words there is no "bottom" to the beat, and consequently no precision in the conducting. But on the other hand, there is to be observed also a great deal of conducting in which the beats seem to be thought of as imaginary points, the conductor apparently feeling that it is his business to get from one to another of these points in as straight a line as possible, and with no relaxation of muscle whatever. Such conductors often imagine that they are being very definite and very precise indeed in their directing, and have sometimes been heard to remark that the singers or players whom they were leading seemed exceedingly stupid about following the beat, especially in the attacks. The real reason for sluggish rhythmic response and poor attacks is, however, more often to be laid at the door of a poorly executed beat by the conductor than to the stupidity of the chorus or orchestra.[7]
HOW TO SECURE A FIRM ATTACK
Coordinate with the discussion of continuous movement and back-stroke, the following principle should be noted:A preliminary movement sufficiently ample to be easily followed by the eye must be made before actually giving the beat upon which the singers or players are to begin the tone, if the attack is to be delivered with precision and confidence.Thus in the case of a composition beginning upon the first beat of a measure, the conductor holds the baton poised in full view of all performers, then, before actually bringing it down for the attack, he raises it slightly, this upward movement often corresponding to the back-stroke between an imaginary preceding beat and the actual beat with which the composition begins. When a composition begins upon the weak beat (e.g., the fourth beat of a four-pulse measure), the preceding strong beat itself, together with the back-stroke accompanying it, is often given as the preparation for the actual initial beat. In case this is done the conductor must guard against making this preliminary strong beat so prominent as to cause the performers to mistake it for the actual signal to begin. If the first phrase begins with an eighth-note(music notation),give a short beat for 4 and an extra up-beat for the first note of the phrase. If it begins with a sixteenth-note, do the same thing, but make the extra up-beat with which the first tone is to be coincident shorter and quicker. If a good attack cannot be secured in any other way, beat an entire preliminary measure until the attack goes well, then adopt some such plan as has just been suggested.
THE RELEASE
The preliminary up-beat which has just been discussed is equally valuable as a preparation for the "release" or "cut-off." The movement for the release is usually a down stroke to right or left, or even upward. It is customary not to beat out the final measure of a composition or a complete final section of a composition, but to bring the baton down a few inches for the first beat of the measure, and then to hold it poised in this position, either counting the beats mentally, or trusting to feeling to determine the time for stopping. A slight upward movement is then made just before the tone is to be released, and it is the warning conveyed by this preliminary movement that enables the performers to release the tone at the precise instant when the baton is brought down for the cut-off. It should be noted that the release must come at theendof the duration value of the final note. In 4-4 a finaldotted half notewould therefore be held up to thebeginningof the fourth beat,i.e., until one is on the point of countingfour; a finalwhole note, until the beginning of the first beat of the following measure. It is because of carelessness or ignorance on this point that composers now sometimes resort to such devices asmusic notationto show that the final tone has four full beats. In such a case, the endingmusic notationmeans exactly the same thing asmusic notation, the tone being released precisely ononeof the following measure, in either case.
THE HOLD
In the case of a hold (fermata), the movement for the cut-off depends upon the nature of what follows. If the tone to be prolonged forms the end of a phrase or section, the baton is brought down vigorously as at the end of a composition; but if the hold occurs at the end of a phrase in such a way as not to form a decided closing point, or if it occurs in the midst of the phrase itself, the cut-off is not nearly so pronounced, and the conductor must exercise care to move his baton in such a direction as to insure its being ready to give a clear signal for the attack of the tone following the hold. Thus, with a hold on the third beat,music notationthe cut-off would probably be toward the right and upward, this movement then serving also as a preliminary for the fourth beat to follow.
THE ATTACK IN READING NEW MUSIC
For working in rehearsal it is convenient to use some such exclamation as "Ready—Sing," or "Ready—Play," in order that amateur musicians may be enabled to attack the first chord promptly, even in reading new music. In this case the word "Ready" comes just before the preliminary movement; the word "Sing" or "Play" being coincident with the actual preliminary movement. In preparing for a public performance, however, the conductor should be careful not to use these words so much in rehearsing that his musicians will have difficulty in making their attacks without hearing them.
LENGTH OF THE STROKE
The length and general character of the baton movement depend upon the emotional quality of the music being conducted. A bright, snappyScherzoin rapid tempo will demand a short, vigorous beat, with almost no elaboration of back-stroke; while for a slow and statelyChoral, a long, flowing beat with a highly-elaborated back-stroke will be appropriate. The first beat of the phrase in any kind of music is usually longer and more prominent, in order that the various divisions of the design may be clearly marked. It is in the length of the stroke that the greatest diversity in time beating will occur in the case of various individual conductors, and it is neither possible nor advisable to give specific directions to the amateur. Suffice it to say, that if he understands clearly the foregoing principles of handling the baton, and if his musical feeling is genuine, there will be little difficulty at this point.
NON-MEASURED MUSIC
The directions for beating time thus far given have, of course, referred exclusively to what is termed "measured music,"i.e., music in which the rhythm consists of groups of regularly spaced beats, the size and generalcharacteristics of the group depending upon the number and position of the accents in each measure. There exists, however, a certain amount of non-measured vocal music, and a word concerning the most common varieties (recitative and Anglican chant) will perhaps be in order before closing our discussion of beating time.
RECITATIVE
In conducting the accompaniment of a vocal solo of the recitative style, and particularly that variety referred to asrecitativo secco, the most important baton movement is a down-beat after each bar. The conductor usually follows the soloist through the group of words found between two bars with the conventional baton movements, but this does not imply regularly spaced pulses as in the case of measured music, and the beats do not correspond in any way to those of the ordinary measure of rhythmic music. They merely enable the accompanying players to tell at approximately what point in the measure the singer is at any given time, the up-beat at the end of the group giving warning of the near approach of the next group.
THE ANGLICAN CHANT
In the case of the Anglican chant, it should be noted that there are two parts to each verse: one, a reciting portion in which there is no measured rhythm; the other, a rhythmic portion in which the pulses occur as in measured music. In the reciting portion of the chant, the rhythm is that of ordinary prose speech, punctuation marks being observed as in conventional language reading. This makes it far more difficult to keep the singers together, and in order to secure uniformity, some conductors give a slight movement of the baton for each syllable; others depend upon a down-beat at the beginning of each measure together with the lip movements made by the conductor himself and followed minutely by the chorus.
The beginning of the second part of the chant is indicated by printing its first syllable in italics, by placing an accent mark over it, or by some other similar device. This syllable is then regarded as the first accented tone of the metrical division of the chant, and, beginning with it, the conductor beats time as in ordinary measured music. If no other syllable follows the accented one before a bar occurs, it is understood that the accented syllable is to be held for two beats,i.e., a measure's duration. Finaledis always pronounced as a separate syllable.
The most important thing for an amateur to learn about conducting the Anglican chant is that before he can successfully direct others in singing this type of choral music, he must himself practically memorize each chant. The amateur should perhaps also be warned not to have the words of the first part of the chant recited too rapidly. All too frequently there is so much hurrying that only a few of the most prominent words are distinguishable, most of the connecting words being entirely lost. A more deliberate style of chanting than that in ordinary use would be much more in keeping with the idea of dignified worship. Before asking the choir to sing a new chant, it is often well to have the membersreciteit, thus emphasizing the fact that the meaning of the text must be brought out in the singing. In inaugurating chanting in churches where this form of music has not previously formed a part of the service, it will be well to have both choir and congregation sing the melody in unison for a considerable period before attempting to chant in parts.
THE NECESSITY OF PRACTICE IN HANDLING THE BATON
Now that we have laid down the principles upon the basis of which our prospective conductor is to beat time, let us warn him once more that here, as in other things, it is intelligent practice that makes perfect, and that if he is to learn to handle the baton successfully, and particularly if he is to learn to do it so well that he need never give the slightest thought to his baton while actually conducting, hours of practice in beating time will be necessary. This practising should sometimes take place before a mirror, or better still, in the presence of some critical friend, so that a graceful rather than a grotesque style of handling the baton may result; it should also be done with the metronome clicking or with some one playing the piano much of the time, in order that the habit of maintaining an absolutely steady, even tempo may evolve. The phonograph may also be utilized for this purpose, and may well become an indispensable factor in training conductors in the future, it being possible in this way to study the elements of interpretation as well as to practise beating time.
BATON TECHNIQUE NOT SUFFICIENT FOR SUCCESS IN CONDUCTING
It must not be imagined that if one is fortunate enough to acquire the style of handling the baton which we have been advocating one will at once achieve success as a conductor. The factors of musical scholarship, personal magnetism,et cetera, mentioned in preceding pages, must still constitute the real foundation of conducting. But granting the presence of these other factors of endowment and preparation, one may often achieve a higher degree of success if one has developed also a well-defined and easily-followed beat. It is for this reason that the technique of time beating is worthy of some degree of serious investigation and of a reasonable amount of time spent in practice upon it.
THE CONDUCTOR AS INTERPRETER
Interpretation from the standpoint of the conductor differs from interpretation in singing and playing in that the conductor must necessarily convey ideas or emotions to his audience through an intermediary,viz., the orchestra or chorus. He furthermore labors under the disadvantage of having to stand with his back (certainly the least expressive part of man's physique) to the audience. The pianist, singer, and violinist, on the other hand, face their audiences; and because they themselves actually do the performing, are able to work much more directly upon the minds and emotions of their hearers. For this reason, interpretation must be studied by the conductor from a twofold basis:
1. From the standpoint of the expressive rendition of music in general.2. From the standpoint of securing the expressive rendition of music from a group of players or singers.
1. From the standpoint of the expressive rendition of music in general.
2. From the standpoint of securing the expressive rendition of music from a group of players or singers.
We shall devote this and the three following chapters to a discussion of these two phases of interpretation.
INTERPRETATION AND EXPRESSION
The wordinterpret, as ordinarily used means "to explain,"—"to elucidate,"—"to make clear the meaning of," and this same definition of the word applies to music as well, the conductor or performer "making clear" to the audience the message given him by the composer. It should be noted at once, however, thatinterpretation in music is merely the process or means for securing the larger thing calledexpression, and in discussing this larger thing, the activity of two persons is always assumed; one is the composer, the other the performer. Which of these two is the more important personage has been for many decades a much mooted question among concert-goers. Considered from an intellectual standpoint, there is no doubt whatever concerning the supremacy of the composer; but when viewed in the light of actual box office experience, on an evening when Caruso or some other popular idol has been slated to appear, and cannot do so because of indisposition, it would seem as if the performer were still as far above the composer as he was in the days of eighteenth-century opera in Italy.
It is the composer's function to write music of such a character that when well performed it will occasion an emotional reaction on the part of performer and listener. Granting this type of music, it is the function of the performer or conductor to so interpret the music that an appropriate emotional reaction will actually ensue. A recent writer calls the performer amessengerfrom the composer to the audience, and states[8]that—
As a messenger is accountable to both sender and recipient of his message, so is the interpretative artist in a position of twofold trust and, therefore, oftwofold responsibility. The sender of his message—creative genius—is behind him; before him sits an expectant and confiding audience, the sovereign addressee. The interpretative artist has, therefore, first to enter into thespiritof his message; to penetrate its ultimate meaning; to read in, as well as between, the lines. And then he has to train and develop his faculties of delivery, of vital production, to such a degree as to enable him to fix his message decisively, and with no danger of being misunderstood, in the mind of his auditor.
As a messenger is accountable to both sender and recipient of his message, so is the interpretative artist in a position of twofold trust and, therefore, oftwofold responsibility. The sender of his message—creative genius—is behind him; before him sits an expectant and confiding audience, the sovereign addressee. The interpretative artist has, therefore, first to enter into thespiritof his message; to penetrate its ultimate meaning; to read in, as well as between, the lines. And then he has to train and develop his faculties of delivery, of vital production, to such a degree as to enable him to fix his message decisively, and with no danger of being misunderstood, in the mind of his auditor.
This conception of the conductor's task demands from him two things:
1. A careful, painstaking study of the work to be performed, so as to become thoroughly familiar with its content and to discover its true emotional significance.2. Such display of emotion in his conducting as will arouse a sympathetic response, first on the part of orchestra and chorus, and then in turn in the audience.
1. A careful, painstaking study of the work to be performed, so as to become thoroughly familiar with its content and to discover its true emotional significance.
2. Such display of emotion in his conducting as will arouse a sympathetic response, first on the part of orchestra and chorus, and then in turn in the audience.
EMOTION IN INTERPRETATION
Real interpretation, then, requires, on the part of the conductor, just as in the case of the actor, a display of emotion. Coldness and self-restraint will not suffice, for these represent merely the intellectual aspect of the art, and music is primarily a language of the emotions. This difference constitutes the dividing line between performances that merely arouse our judicial comment "That was exceedingly well done"; and those on the other hand that thrill us, carry us off our feet, sweep us altogether out of our environment so that for the moment we forget where we are, lose sight temporarily of our petty cares and grievances, and are permitted to live for a little while in an altogether different world—the world not of things and ambitions and cares, but of ecstasy. Such performances and such an attitude on the part of the listener are all too rare in these days of smug intellectualism and hypersophistication, and we venture to assert that this is at least partly due to the fact that many present-day conductors are intellectual rather than emotional in their attitude.
It is this faculty of displaying emotion, of entirely submerging himself in the work being performed, that gives the veteran choral conductor Tomlins his phenomenal hold on chorus and audience. In a performance of choral works recently directed by this conductor, the listener was made to feel at one moment the joy of springtime, with roses blooming and lovers wooing, as a light, tuneful chorus in waltz movement was being performed; then in a trice, one was whisked over to the heart of Russia, and made to see, as though they were actually present, a gang of boatmen as they toiled along the bank of the Volga with the tow-rope over theirshoulders, tugging away at a barge which moved slowly up from the distance, past a clump of trees, and then gradually disappeared around a bend in the river; and in yet another moment, one was thrilled through and through with religious fervor in response to the grandeur and majestic stateliness of the Mendelssohn Motet,Judge Me, oh God.
It was interpretation of this type too that gave the actor-singer Wüllner such a tremendous hold upon his audiences a few years ago, this artist achieving a veritable triumph by the tremendous sincerity and vividness of his dramatic impersonations in singing GermanLieder, in spite of the fact that he possessed a voice of only average quality.
It was an emotional response of this character that the Greek philosophers must have been thinking of when they characterized drama as a "purge for the soul"; and surely it must still be good for human beings to forget themselves occasionally and to become merged in this fashion in the wave of emotion felt by performer and fellow-listener in response to the message of the composer.
It is emotion of this type also that the great composers have sought to arouse through their noblest compositions. Handel is said to have replied, when congratulated upon the excellence of the entertainment afforded by theMessiah, "I am sorry if I have only entertained them; I hoped to do them good." An English writer, in quoting this incident, adds:[9]
What Handel tried to do ... by wedding fine music to an inspiring text, Beethoven succeeded in doing through instruments alone ... for never have instruments—no matter how pleasing they were in the past—been capable of stirring the inmost feelings as they have done since the beginning of the nineteenth century.
What Handel tried to do ... by wedding fine music to an inspiring text, Beethoven succeeded in doing through instruments alone ... for never have instruments—no matter how pleasing they were in the past—been capable of stirring the inmost feelings as they have done since the beginning of the nineteenth century.
There is danger, of course, here as everywhere, that one may go too far; and it is entirely conceivable that both soloist and conductor might go to such extremesin their display of emotion that the music would be entirely distorted, losing what is after all its mainraison d'être,viz., the element of beauty. But there seems at present to be no especial danger that such an event will occur; the tendency seems rather to be toward overemphasizing intellectualism in music, and toward turning our art into a science.[10]The thing that we should like to convince the prospective conductor of is that real interpretation—i.e., genuinely expressive musical performance—demands an actual display of emotion on the part of the conductor if the ideal sort of reaction is to be aroused in the audience.
In order to interpret a musical work, then, the conductor himself must first study it so as to discover what the composer intended to express. Having become thoroughly permeated with the composer's message, he may then by instinctive imitation arouse in his chorus or orchestra so strong a reflection of this mood that they will perform the work in the correct spirit, the audience in turn catching its essential significance, and each listener in his own way responding to the composer's message.
DEFINITION OF INTERPRETATION
Musical interpretation consists thus in impressing upon the listener the essential character of the music by emphasizing the important elements and subordinating the unimportant ones; by indicating in a clear-cut and unmistakable way the phrasing, and through skilful phrasing making evident the design of the composition as awhole; and in general by so manipulating one's musical forces that the hearer will not only continue to be interested in the performance, but will feel or understand the basic significance of the work being performed; will catch and remember the important things in it, will not have his attention distracted by comparatively unimportant details, and will thus have delivered to him the real spirit of the composer's message. This implies skilful accentuation of melody, subordination of accompaniment, increasing the tempo or force in some portions, decreasing them in others,et cetera. Clear enunciation and forceful declamation in choral music are also included, and in it all, the performer or conductor must so subordinate his own personality that the attention of the listeners will be centered upon the composition and not upon the eccentricities of dress or manner of the artist.
THE BOUNDARIES OF MUSIC
It is inevitable that there should be considerable difference of opinion among composers, critics, listeners, and performers, as to just what music may or may not legitimately be expected to express. Some modern composers are apparently convinced that it ought to be possible through music to suggest pictures, tell stories, or depict moral and intellectual struggles on the part of the individual. Others contend that music exists solely because of its own inherent beauty, that it can arousegeneralemotional states only, and that if it is good music, it needs no further meaning than this. Even "pure music," the champions of this latter idea urge, may express an infinite variety of emotional tones, from joy, encouragement, excitement, tenderness, expectancy, invigoration, and tranquillity, to dread, oppression of spirit, hesitation, harshness, and despondency. A modern writer on esthetics treats this matter at length, and finally concludes:[11]
Is the symbolization pervasive enough to account for the steady continuing charm of lengthy compositions?... The symbolizations ... mostly resemble patches; they form no system, no plot or plan accompanying a work from beginning to end; they only guarantee a fitful enjoyment—a fragment here, a gleam there, but no growing organic exaltation like that actually afforded by musical compositions.
Is the symbolization pervasive enough to account for the steady continuing charm of lengthy compositions?... The symbolizations ... mostly resemble patches; they form no system, no plot or plan accompanying a work from beginning to end; they only guarantee a fitful enjoyment—a fragment here, a gleam there, but no growing organic exaltation like that actually afforded by musical compositions.
At another point in the same work, this writer again discusses this same matter (page 120):
Music is presentative in character, not representative. Measure, to be sure, may correspond to the beating of the pulse, and the final cadence may picture the satisfaction of desires; the coda may simulate a mental summary; but the composition in its totality, with its particular melodies, harmonies, and rhythms, and with the specific union of all these elements characteristic of this composition, does not represent any definite psychical or material fact.
Music is presentative in character, not representative. Measure, to be sure, may correspond to the beating of the pulse, and the final cadence may picture the satisfaction of desires; the coda may simulate a mental summary; but the composition in its totality, with its particular melodies, harmonies, and rhythms, and with the specific union of all these elements characteristic of this composition, does not represent any definite psychical or material fact.
The majority of us would doubtless take a middle-ground position, admitting the beauty and power of music,per se, but acknowledging also the fact that abstract beauty together with a certain amount of suggested imagery, in combination, will usually make a stronger appeal to the majority of people than either element by itself. Many of us are entirely willing to grant, therefore, that a more complex and more vividly colored emotional state will probably result if the auditor is furnished with the title or program of the work being performed;but we contend nevertheless that this music, regardless of its connection with imagery, must at the same time be sound music, and that no matter how vividly descriptive our tonal art may become, if it cannot stand the test of many hearings as music, entirely apart from the imagery aroused, it is not worthy to endure. It is not themeaningof the music which makes us want to hear it repeated, but its inherentbeauty; it is not usually our intellectual impression, but our emotional thrill which we recall in thinking back over a past musical experience.
Those of us who take the middle ground that we have just been presenting contend also that descriptive musiccan only legitimately arouse its appropriate imagery when the essential idea has been supplied beforehand in the form of a title or program, and that even thenthe effect upon various individuals is, and may well be, quite different, since each one has the music thrown, as it were, upon the screen of his own personal experience.
EXPRESSION CONCERNS BOTH COMPOSER AND PERFORMER
It will be noted that in this discussion we are constantly using the wordexpressionfrom the twofold standpoint of composer and performer, each having an indispensable part in it, and neither being able to get along without the other. But in our treatment of conducting, we shall need to come back again and again to the idea of expression from the standpoint of interpretation, and in directing a piece of music we shall now take it for granted that the composer has said something which is worthy of being heard, and that as the intermediary between composer and audience, we are attempting to interpret to the latter what the former has expressed in his composition. It should be noted in this connection that wrong interpretation is possible in music, even as in literature. One may so read a poem that the hearer, without being in any way to blame, will entirely miss the point. So also may one conduct a musical work, whether it be a child's song or a symphonic poem, in such a fashion that neither performers nor audience gain a proper conception of what it means.