Chats To 'Cello Students Part 4

[Ill.u.s.tration: (EX. 28_a_)]

The semiquaver triplet in this case, (Ex. 28_a_), is executed with springing-bow, using the upper third; the bow is then thrown on the string close to the point for the sforzando.

In subst.i.tuting or inventing the manner of bowing any particular pa.s.sage, the violoncellist should always take into consideration the character of the composition being performed, not being above considering the generally acknowledged manner of interpreting the works of well known composers. The introduction of any exaggeration in accent, etc., whilst being perfectly admissable in performing compositions by Brahms, Schumann, or Dvorak, would most probably be out of place, if introduced in similar works by Mendelssohn or Beethoven.

SAUTILLe.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (EX. 29)]

Although this bowing is often called Spiccato, Springing-stroke, Dancing-bow, etc., etc., it must not on any consideration be confused with the bowing previously described as such, that is the springing-bow applied to pa.s.sages at only a moderate tempo; the method of production and the effect of these two bowings are entirely different, the sautille, varying from the heavier cla.s.s of springing-stroke, in not being produced by any studied action of the right-hand, wrist, or fingers. The work of the fingers in executing this bowing, is merely pa.s.sive, except perhaps the first finger, which a.s.sists in giving the "go" to the bow. No pressure is required; the tone seems to be "pulled"

out of the instrument by the bite of the hair on the strings, the springing movement being caused solely by the elasticity of the bow.

The scales may be practised as Ex. 29, first in smooth semiquavers at the middle of the bow, using about an inch of bow, and without any pressure being applied. The scales should be worked up to a very high rate of speed; when this is accomplished, the student will find that unless he prevents the bow from springing, it will commence a kind of dancing movement, although it hardly seems as if the bow leaves the strings. The student will easily recognise the bowing when he has accomplished it, by the distinct picked out character of the notes. Most amateurs who fail to acquire this bowing, may blame their misfortune either to gripping the bow too firmly, thus not allowing the wrist and fingers sufficient play, or being "weary in well doing" with respect to practice. Modern compositions for violoncello abound with this bowing, fine examples may be found in Am Springbrunnen, Davidoff; Papillon, Elfentanz, etc., etc., by Popper, last movement Military Concerto, and other solos by Servais; in fact nearly all modern player-writers, have composed works which introduce this fairy-like bowing.

DOTTED NOTES.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (EX. 30)]

The rhythm given in Ex. 30, is frequently met with in almost every cla.s.s of instrumental music. It may be bowed in four distinctly different ways. The way mostly adopted, especially in chamber, or orchestral music, where occasionally whole sections of a work have accompaniments for the strings in this rhythm, is to tie the two notes in one bow as marked in Ex. 30, this is done, even if no bowing marks whatever are given in the parts. The upper half of the bow may be used, the bow being almost drawn to the point, then suddenly stopped to allow the semiquaver to have a distinct stroke, for the latter, using about a couple of inches of bow with a wrist movement only.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (EX. 30_a_ & _b_)]

In solo pieces, and occasional pa.s.sages in chamber-music, this rhythm may be given one bow-stroke to each note. However, the effect although pleasing, is so a.s.sertive especially if executed in a very broad, heavy fashion, that the listener becomes tired before many bars have been played. This bad effect is not quite so evident if the bowing is executed in a light, playful manner, the very nature of the rhythm is of a gay, frolicsome character, especially in a moderately quick tempo, therefore a dull, solid performance is entirely out of place.

In practising the bowing at Ex. 30A, more than a third part of the bow must not be used, and slightly less for a quicker tempo. The semiquaver must have the same length of bow-stroke as the dotted quaver; therefore the bow must move more slowly, and receive more pressure for the down-stroke than for the light up-stroke; for the latter, the bow is carried lightly over the string, with the pressure relieved. The bowing may also be reversed as in Ex. 30B, here the longer note is played with an up bow-stroke, the semiquaver receiving a smart, light, down bow.

Another method of bowing may also be occasionally used, although when compared with any of the foregoing, it will perhaps be regarded as a trifle commonplace. The bow is placed on the strings at the heel; the first dotted quaver receives a down stroke with the heel fourth, the semiquaver being played with an up-bow, using about an eighth of bow; the next dotted quaver again receives a down-stroke with a fourth; thus gaining an eighth at each dotted note, the bow gradually travels to the point. The up-bow may also be used in like manner, commencing at the point and finishing near the heel, the movements being reversed. This method of bowing will be found useful for special pa.s.sages which have to be executed in a quiet manner, or where the change in bowing thus occasioned is necessary.

CHAPTER VIII.

ON THE POSITIONS--THE INDIVIDUAL REQUIREMENTS OF ORCHESTRAL PLAYER AND SOLOIST--THE NECESSITY OF "STRETCHING" FOR THE INTERVALS--THE LOCALITY OF THE NECK POSITIONS--THE ENHARMONIC DIFFERENCE OF SHARP AND FLAT KEYS--ABSOLUTE PITCH--HOW TO LEAP ANY AWKWARD INTERVAL--THE POSITIONS NOT DETERMINED BY MATHEMATICAL RULES, BUT BY THE "EAR"--SHIFTING--"ECONOMY OF MOTION" _versus_ "EFFECT"--CHOICE OF POSITIONS.

POSITIONS, SHIFTING, ETC.

Although learning the various positions used in violoncello playing is neither so interesting a study nor so quickly mastered as are a few of the seemingly more difficult styles of bowing, a thorough practical knowledge of them is absolutely necessary both for orchestral and solo work. It is interesting to note, however, that extraordinary ability in any one direction is generally obtained at the expense of the other branch of 'cello playing. A long experienced orchestral player, although having a complete mastery of the "fingerboard," in the matter of being able to play almost any composition at sight, seldom possesses that perfection in bowing requisite for a successful soloist. The chief matters for special attention in the orchestra are time and tune, together with the ordinary "light and shade" effects; and considering the numerous compositions which the orchestral violoncellist must "go"

through in one short season only, it is not to be expected that any great attention can be devoted to the perfection of bowing; or at least to such brilliant bowings as the staccato, and various spiccato effects, which are only heard to advantage when each instrument may be heard individually. The exceptions to this rule, are orchestral players who combine with their orchestral work, much practice in chamber music or solos. The same law is in effect with any who excel greatly as soloists; the solo player may have a greater command of the positions in a mechanical sense than has the orchestral player, but it is seldom he reads so well at sight. The very system of working up to perfection, and memorizing a certain number of compositions, is detrimental to good reading; in fact it may be safely said that the more an artist plays by ear the less able will he be to read at sight. I should think such artists as Piatti, Lady Halle, Joachim, however, are notable exceptions,--not to the rule, but to great solo players being poor sight readers, but these artists have always combined much quartet playing with their solo work.

The special requirements in respect to positions, of each cla.s.s of violoncellist, may be stated as follows; the soloist to be successful requires a complete mastery of the practical or mechanical part of playing perfectly in tune, and a perfect command of shifting from one position to another. The orchestral player requires the ability to quickly divine the most suitable positions in which to play any given pa.s.sage, when seen expressed in musical notation. The successful quartet player must possess to a certain degree, the abilities of both cla.s.ses.

Whatever cla.s.s of work the student intends to fit himself for, he must gain a knowledge of the positions in a practical manner, _i.e._, with the instrument in hand. Theory by itself is of no use, the player may know that a certain note will be produced if a given string be stopped in a certain place, but if he is unable to perform the mechanical part, and by exactly gauging the distance to be leaped, stop the note perfectly in tune, the knowledge stands for nothing.

Each position should have separate attention, and the notes obtainable thoroughly mastered both theoretically and practically before another position is attempted. The position most easily learned is the first position (first finger on B a whole tone above the open A string), and as this is in a sense the normal position in 'cello playing, and for ordinary work the most useful owing to its relation to the four open strings, the hand of the student should be allowed to become thoroughly "set" to this position, and facility obtained in stretching the various intervals, before attempting to "shift."

From the commencement, the student should compel himself to _stretch_ for the intervals when necessary, and not contract the bad habit of using the thumb as a kind of pivot, on which the hand is moved backwards and forwards, the thumb remaining in the same position. If the student once gets into this habit, his hope of ever playing perfectly in tune, especially in rapidly descending pa.s.sages, must be abandoned; it is a bad habit, however, which nearly every learner will contract unless strictly watched; and when pupils who have had previous instruction come to me for lessons, I generally have to commence with a series of finger exercises composed expressly for its correction.

The player will find that after a few years of 'cello playing, if the correct system of fingering has been adopted, the bones of the hand (metacarpal) seem to get quite loose, and are under the control of the muscles, so that when the fingers are stretched for a wide interval, they are a.s.sisted by the hand-bones, which move direct from the wrist, almost like the action of the metacarpal bone connected with the thumb, only of course in a much smaller degree. This gives a greater width of the hand, measuring across the knuckles, and it is with this capacity that ease in stretching the intervals is arrived at, and _not_ with long fingers, as some are apt to imagine. Fingers of more than ordinary length are of no special a.s.sistance in 'cello playing, if they are so firmly bound together at the knuckles as to hamper free movement from side to side; this is one of the chief reasons why it would be so difficult to master a stringed instrument, if maturity should be reached before commencing to learn. Besides the bones of the hand getting gradually bound together with the surrounding muscles and ligaments, if not kept in constant use; the tendons which are plainly discernable at the back of the hand seem to lose individuality, thus we see some aged people who are unable to move any one finger independently to the others. The player must grow to his instrument, and it is wonderful what change does take place in this respect, the whole character of the hand being altered; this has to come about before anything like command of the instrument can be expected.

As a ready way of describing the locality of the various "neck"

positions, the names of the notes stopped by the first finger on the A string will be given only. In these neck positions, the thumb remains behind the neck of the instrument, retaining as far as possible the same relationship to the hand as in the first position, already explained.

For the half-position, or what is generally known as the back-shift, the hand should move backwards from the first position the distance of half a tone, the first finger will then stop A? or B?. When playing in extreme keys, this half position is very useful, especially when the notes of all the four open strings have to be played sharp.

The distance of the second position from the first is only a semitone, the first finger stopping C. This position also bears a "raised"

position, sometimes named the "second-and-a-half position"; although it is easier to designate it the second raised, or if in flat keys the third lowered position. For this position, the whole hand moves forward from the second position, until the first finger stops C? or D?. The third position is distant a tone and a half from the first position, the first finger stopping D. The second and third positions are perhaps not so readily mastered as are the first and fourth, or perhaps even the higher positions; for this reason they should be all the more perseveringly practised. Not only should the notes which are obtainable in the second and third positions have special attention, the student should practise various leaps from any of the other positions, until he has their exact locality firmly fixed. When playing in the fourth position, the first finger stops E, the hand should be allowed to rest on the ribs of the instrument, this will a.s.sist the student in placing the locality of this position. The fourth position bears a lowered, but not a raised position, as there is only a semitone between E and F. The fourth lowered position is identical with the third raised position, the first finger stopping E? for the former, and D? for the latter form.

The fifth position therefore is a semitone higher than the fourth, the first finger stopping F. From the fifth position upwards to the seventh, the thumb is allowed to gradually leave its position _behind_ the neck, until for the seventh position it only touches the side of the lower portion, almost where the neck joins the body of the instrument.

However, the thumb should retain its touch, so that the hand may quickly a.s.sume the necessary att.i.tude for the lower positions when required. For the fifth raised position the first finger stops F?.

In the sixth position, the first finger stops G. The fingers are now in advance of the thumb, also the student will observe that in these higher positions, the distance between the notes gradually grow smaller.

It is now possible to stop three notes separated by intervals of whole tones (major 2nds), with the first, second, and third fingers, and not as in the first position, compulsory to use four fingers to stop three notes. The sixth raised position is taken with the first finger on G?.

The seventh position is the highest neck position practicable, the first finger stopping A.

To sum up, we find that there are seven ordinary neck positions, the fundamental notes of which on the A string, are directly related to the diatonic scale of C. Also there are six half-positions, each position bearing a "raised" form, except where the fundamental note of two positions is only separated by a semitone. This occurs in two instances, _i.e._, between the leading-note and tonic of the C scale (first and second position), and between the mediant and sub-dominant (fourth and fifth positions). These five raised positions, together with the backshift, gives us the six. Together with this, each position bears a normal, and a "stretched" form, for the former in the lower positions, the fingers are allowed to fall naturally at the distance of a semitone apart; for the latter the thumb (behind the neck of course), and one or more fingers remain in the position, the first finger being stretched backwards, or the third or fourth fingers stretched forwards, or both.

I am aware that some theorists may object to the method of a.s.signing the same position to say B? and A?, on the principle that B? is lower in pitch than A?. However, if the matter is thoroughly looked into, we shall find that the system of portioning out the fingerboard with mathematical exactness, and giving to the various groups the names of positions, is really under the control of another system. This system, which is found to be the chief factor both in singing in tune, and in giving the stringed instrumentalist the power of playing in tune, for want of a more comprehensive t.i.tle might be named "relative pitch." The student if sufficiently advanced may easily prove this to himself in the following manner.

Reverse the usual position of the instrument, that is, instead of having the fingerboard turned away, place the 'cello in such a position that the whole length of the fingerboard may be viewed from before.

Now endeavour to point out the position of any given note, it will be found that an entirely wrong conception has been formed of the distance between the intervals, and it will be almost impossible to place the exact position, where any isolated note could be sounded exactly in tune. Perhaps more success will be experienced in placing the position of a few of the easier divisions of the string, like the harmonic at the half-string, but strange as it may appear, the attempts to point out the exact positions of notes even in the first position, will, in nearly every case, be complete failures. If the reader has had much experience in teaching the 'cello, and has become accustomed to judge the distance of notes by eye measurement, he must be considered an exception to the above. This proves to us then that the eye has, or should have, nothing to do with gauging the distances to be leaped, or stretched, for the various intervals. It is here that a wonderful faculty is found to exist in the trained violoncellist; this faculty is obtained by the wonderful connection between the fingers and arm movement, and the "ear," or more correctly, the brain. At first sight it appears very wonderful how any given interval between two sounds may be reduced down to measurement, and have its tonal character represented by a physical movement, but with long practice the movements of the arm and fingers become so perfectly under control, and work in such sympathy with the brain, that the act of conceiving the character of an interval, and its production, seems almost to be accomplished by the same brain action. This applies only to the production of one note in relation to another, or to the position of a note in relation to a fixed position, and not to isolated notes. How then is the 'cellist to establish the pitch, and decide the position of an isolated note, if in such a high position that no guide is given to the hand, such as is noticed in positions like the fourth?

Although pursuing this subject has the appearance of leading us away from the chief matter of the present chapter, it is of such importance to the instrumentalist to know exactly how to obtain any isolated note, and as it is so much more easily explained at the present stage, it will be better to consider it straight away.

The brain must have some basis whereon to build up an expectation relative to any isolated sound. Thus, if a solitary note is represented on the music page, say E?, the brain not having any fixed sound whereby to place the tonality of E?, no expectation is raised as to its probable pitch; to bring this to practice. A pianist striking the one note E?, on the piano, would feel quite satisfied with the pitch of the sound produced, whether the piano should happen to be tuned a quarter of a tone either below, or above concert pitch. This statement is open to challenge by the upholders of the theory of absolute pitch; I am well aware that a _few_ musicians have this gift of absolute pitch, and perhaps a greater number still, from long practice with one fixed sound--like the singing master with his C tuning fork--are able to guess the pitch of that one sound with moderate success, but for a musician to have the pitch of all the range of sounds so thoroughly established, as to feel a sense of disappointment if an isolated note was sounded either slightly above, or below concert pitch, is almost an impossibility, if such an one does exist he must be considered an exception to the above. It may be accepted as the general rule, that until one note is heard, no expectation is raised as to any given note.

The 'cellist, therefore, not having any fixed notes like the pianist, would be completely at sea, especially if a composition should commence on a note in rather an awkward position, say on the E? above the A half string. If an introduction in the accompaniment preceded, the 'cellist would be able to tell after the E? was sounded, whether he had happened to hit on the right position, but it would hardly be edifying to the audience to commence the note slightly out of tune, and shuffle to the correct pitch, after the accompanying chords were struck, nor would they appreciate a series of introductory grace notes leading to the required position.

It is here that the faculty of gauging the distance of a _known_ interval, taking the required note by a leap from some equally well known position, is brought into force. If the 'cellist has just previously tuned his instrument, the sounds of the open strings will be still fresh in his mind, dispensing with A, D and G, the C being the nearest related to E? will be immediately seized upon, and a conception of the interval to be leaped (a minor third above the third octave), will be firmly established. After this the process is chiefly mechanical, the move may be made from any position the exact locality of which the student is thoroughly acquainted with, exactly as if leaping from a note in that position to the required E?, as--

[Ill.u.s.tration: EX. 31]

(The bow not to touch the strings until the E? is firmly stopped with the third finger, the grace notes merely show from which position the leap is made.)

The student should carry out this principle for all difficult leaps, and not seek for the position by gliding up, or down to it. However "to return to our sheep," this system of relative pitch affects the performance of flat and sharp keys in the following way, as an ill.u.s.tration the different manner in which B? and A? is treated, although both being in the back-shift, or half position, will be demonstrated.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EX. 32]

In the first bar of Goltermann's Cantilena (Example 32), the first finger is on A? in the back position, the character of the accidental following the B? is such, that the musician seems almost compelled to sound this note as near the B as possible. It would irritate a musician with a well trained ear, to have anything but the smallest interval between the two notes, he will therefore quite unconsciously make the A?

as "sharp" as possible, which conclusively proves that there is not any necessity for forming two positions for these enharmonic differences.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EX. 33]

Here we have a different idea of the B?--the equivalent to A?. The progression from C to B? (Example 33), instead of giving one the idea that the B? should be drawn to the C, has the opposite effect; a sense of satisfaction is only felt, when the largest possible interval between two tones is made between the super-tonic and tonic. With the second B?, the feeling is to glide quietly off the leading note on to the tonic, making the least possible interval. Thus the B? is pushed down by the C, and again drawn down by the A, making it impossible with any sense of satisfaction to play it in anything but its "flattest" form.

All this will be evident to the cultured musician, to whom these remarks may appear somewhat superfluous; but to the learner, who has not arrived at that stage of ear perfection, when the half-flat, half-natural style of playing flattened notes is a positive annoyance, the hints may be of service in teaching him that anything short of absolute correctness with respect to playing in tune is not to be tolerated.

With respect to the choice of positions, so many things are to be taken into consideration that only general hints may be given. The golden rule is--"Never move into a more remote position than is absolutely necessary." In slow expressive pa.s.sages, everything must give way to allow of correct phrasing; thus to preserve a uniform quality of tone throughout a particular phrase, it will sometimes be necessary to work along one of the lower strings up to the sixth or seventh positions, in preference to using the next higher string. In orchestral work, and generally in quick movements, the chief matter to consider, as previously stated, is "economy of motion," but even in quick movements "effect," which may be considered the counterpart of the generally accepted term of "expression," has also to be taken into account. Occasionally a kind of verve or vigour, or sometimes a certain daintiness in effect is produced, if instead of playing a pa.s.sage in the quietest way, it is taken along the string. A striking example of this may be seen in the first movement of the Goltermann concerto in D, op.

100.