Part 9 (2/2)

Nothing is more hopeless than the attempts some amateur violinists make to acquire certain styles of bowing simply by mentally mastering the various actions by which it is produced.

_Sautille_, one of the easiest forms of bowing, suffers most from this sort of thing. It is no uncommon thing to see an amateur diligently practising the action of lifting the bow off the string and putting it on again after each note, thinking that if he keeps on long enough--say ten minutes a day for a fortnight--that he will acquire a perfect mastery of this much desired effect. To practice _Sautille_ in this manner is the way _not_ to gain it. It is the outcome of the perfect action of the entire arm. When that is attained you will have the _Sautille_. Then, and then only, will a little specialized practice help to perfect the movement. Some pupils I have had who possessed the _Sautille_ by nature and never understood the difficulty experienced by others who had to wait for it. The best way to acquire this as the result of a perfect bow arm is to practise the following:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Musical notes, etc.]

Try it first on the D string. Use whole bows, freely and firmly, for the semibreves, slightly less for the minims, the middle third for the crotchets, and an inch or two for the quavers, reducing it still further as the pace increases. The pupil must abandon all thought of _making_ the bow jump, also he must avoid pressing it on the string.

The whole action must be free and bold and the tempo for this exercise should be not slower than M.M. crotchet = 100. At first it will be found impossible to get as far as the semiquavers without some confusion. At the first sign of irregularity the pupil should stop, pause a moment, and then recommence with the semibreves. It should be seen that the bow is not gripped too tightly through over-anxiety or excitement. It will need patience on the part of teacher and pupil alike, but both will be gratified when suddenly the bow is seen to jump naturally and the _Sautille_ is won.

There is one phrase in connexion with bowing that irritates me greatly, and that is a ”loose wrist.” As a technicality it is of course all right, but the insisting on the literal application of the term has been a stumbling block to many violinists. Ladies have come to me saying, ”Do you think my wrist loose enough for me to play the violin?” Accompanying the query with a violent flapping of the hand that would almost make one think they were desirous of emulating the lobster's ability to cast away a claw at will. Upon making such persons hold a pencil or penholder (I dared not let them handle a bow!) it was found that the wrist became stiff and unyielding. The wrist that was loose when all the muscles were flaccid became rigid when a few were exerted sufficiently to hold a light object.

Thus it will be seen that the apparent looseness of a violinist's wrist is not really such, but is the dominating of one set of muscles by another. Many teachers say that one should have the thumb tight and the wrist loose. A manifest absurdity when one considers that a most important thumb muscle extends right across the wrist. It should therefore be well understood that what is implied by the technical expression ”loose,” is, in reality, ”control.” If it were really looseness, it would present no difficulty to any one not afflicted with an ossification. It is to gain this extreme independence of each set of muscles that long years are taken up in monotonous exercises.

The arm of a violinist has to be trained in a manner directly opposite to that of an athlete. In the latter we find an exemplification of the saying, ”Unity is Strength.” All the muscles act in perfect accord to the same end. With the violinist, on the other hand, there is a constant opposition of forces; the larger muscles are kept down and many smaller muscles are developed that have lost all use in the arm of an athlete.

Concerning the fingers of the right hand I advocate holding them close together--not cramped, but just lightly touching. Some players recommend the parting of the first finger from the others as giving greater leverage over the bow. It certainly has that effect, but I advise it to be used very sparingly and in fortissimo pa.s.sages only.

It is a license one may admit in an artist, but to my pupils who are in the earlier stages I entirely forbid it. I should only permit it in the case of a thumb so short as not to reach far enough into the centre of the hand to give the right amount of control. If a pupil is taught from the first to use this extreme leverage he is likely to develop a rough tone. When he has attained the mastery of the bow he can use his own judgment as to the occasional employment of this reserve force. These remarks I apply also to violoncello bowing.

Unless the pupil's hand be weak the first finger should be held back until the whole art of bowing is mastered. All these observations are addressed to soloists: in orchestral work such retention of force is unnecessary. I notice that where players use up all the available leverage of the hand from the outset, they are compelled to employ the weight of the arm to reinforce it for special effects. Another reason--and an important one--for keeping the fingers together, is that of appearance. Nothing is more unsightly than to see the fingers of the right hand spread out claw fas.h.i.+on, and I quite concur with Sympson that no posture or movement should offend the eye.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE IMPORTANCE OF THE SLOW BOW--THE RAPID WHOLE BOW--STACCATO--BOWING STUDIES AND SOLOS--CONCLUSION.

Returning for a moment to the anxiety of the average fiddler to acquire a good _Sautille_, it seems to me absurd that such importance should be attached to it when, in reality, the test of a violinist's ability lies in his command of ”slow bows.” Too much attention cannot be paid to the study of sustained bowing which can be practised in a variety of ways. Firstly, long drawn semibreves--at one of the Continental Conservatoires they make the violin students play scales of two octaves, taking one bow to each note, the same to last _two minutes_, thus the whole scale, ascending and descending, occupies one hour! The command obtained by this sort of work is enormous. To vary the monotony of semibreves the student can then play scales in semiquavers, making one bow last out ten, twelve, or more scales in two octaves. Another useful variety of the same thing is to practise some succession of notes in which the bow requires to continually pa.s.s from one string to the next, such as:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Musical notes, _D.C. ad infinitum_.]

These should be played as many times as possible in one bow. Here the command of the bow on the string is not only greatly increased, but the wrist is well exercised at the same time.

The same thing should be carried out on the third and fourth strings thus:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Musical notes.]

It is a good thing to make the pupil (if endowed with sufficient intelligence) work out a series of such mechanical exercises, he will this way take a much greater interest in the work, a point to which I attach great importance, for I consider physical exercises, however conscientiously carried out, do little good if the mind is fatigued or absent.

Of scarcely less importance is the study of rapid whole bows. The pupil should be made to draw the bow from end to end as rapidly as he can without _losing control of the bow_, and it must be seen that the pressure does not vary in any way. The bow should be set on firmly at the heel, held there for, say, a crotchet, then drawn, without any swelling of the tone in the centre of the bow, smartly to the point where it must stop suddenly without any change of pressure. This is not found an easy thing to accomplish, but ”perseverance overcometh all difficulties.” The teacher must not be satisfied until the pupil can draw a rapid up or down stroke stopping so suddenly and firmly as to make the note sound as though cut off. In practising this, the bow should remain firmly on the string between each stroke; whether the bow travels or is stationary the pressure must be unchanged.

Staccato bowing is a much misunderstood branch of technics; I do not mean the detached staccato, but that form in which a series of notes is played in one bow yet have a detached effect on the ear. It is a pity that one word should have to stand for two totally different forms of bowing. I have heard and read many varying descriptions of the ”bowed-staccato” and its method of production. Of course it is highly probable that some players attain it differently to others, but as I see no anatomical reason for such differences of action it seems a waste of energy to mechanically produce what already exists in nature. I have no doubt a great deal of this gratuitous variegation of staccato technique comes from teachers not fully understanding their own movements, or perceiving a portion of the action required and laying all stress on that one feature alone. But unless one goes to the prime source of the matter a perfect staccato cannot be attained.

This most important factor, as I should have thought everyone of common sense would at once perceive, is nothing less than the wrist.

Yet I have known some teachers who confine their attention to the action of the fingers, letting the wrist follow as best it can. It is from such teachers, usually, that we receive the preposterous statement that the upper half of the bow only should be used for this bowing; some, even, limiting it still further to the up-bow. Now if the wrist be first well exercised the co-operation of the fingers will come naturally, and a perfect staccato from end to end in either up or down stroke will be attained.

It should be practised slowly and firmly at first on one note thus:

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