ABOUT ACCOMPANYING.

BY CHARLES E. WATT.

No fallacy is more prevalent, and certainly none is more detrimental to real musicianship than that idea which prompts any young student to come into a piano studio and ask for lessons "just to learn accompanying." Instead of being the easiest of the musical acquirements as so many think, this is in reality the very hardest, and no one should undertake to become an accompanist unless lie is thoroughly imbued with the idea that he has a herculean task before him and is willing to put forth a corresponding effort.

In other branches of piano playing: that is, in any sort of solo work, the young tyro may play with some show of success, for he can prepare his especial number with great care and in the public performance, he-having himself to consider only- may favor his own weaknesses and may allow himself a great deal of leeway technically, to say nothing of the fact that he interprets, according to his own feeling, and is bound to observe no one else in that matter.

As an accompanist, however, he is never given the privilege of preparation, at least, there is seldom opportunity for anything adequate along that line, and not only must his technical equipment be great enough to compass whatever difficulties the composer may have chosen to incorporate in the work in hand, but he must also accept the movement of the soloist without question, and still further, he must bend his own ideas of the musical thought involved to those of the singer, even though he may perchance feel in his heart that they arc incorrect. And not only so, but it is lamentably true that the more inexperienced he is the more will the soloist demand of him. If he were strong and thoroughly experienced he would assume the attitude of strength and the singer would respect this, but, being weak, lie is many times bullied unmercifully. It follows then, as clearly as day follows night, that in order to even begin accompanying one must have an extraordinary and a very far-reaching preparation. What, then, is this preparation, and what are the requirements of the good accompanist?

First of all a natural aptitude for music, i.e., a quick eye and a quick ear. An eye which can be trained to very swift reading-which is all-comprehensive in its work, and an ear which is capable of being taught easily all sorts of tonal qualities and all kinds of rhythms, as well as the kinds of eye and ear that are, interchangeable, i.e., that will enable one to "hear with his eyes, and sec that which is presented to the ear." Then must come a thorough piano-playing equipment-by which is meant that the accompanist must be able to do just as much technically as though his aim were to be a concert pianist, and in saying this there is absolutely no exaggeration, he literally must know just that much about piano teehnic for, while he will not use it in transcendent degree as much as will the soloist, his teehnic must yet be so perfect that he can at once do things which the solo player may take weeks to perfect.

Then, there must be a wide knowledge of harmony and all other theoretical branches, for, to say nothing of transposition, which is a thing that is asked very often of the accompanist, there is constant need of a knowledge of the construction of music and very often occasion to use it in other ways.

Form, too, is essential, for unless this is understood and it is possible to utilize all the added force which analysis gives the musical mind, quick perception of the content of any piece is impossible and quick perception is the sine qua non of the accompanist. Neither can music literature nor musical history be neglected, for the quick understanding of any one piece usually presupposes the previous knowledge of another of the same kind and interpretation waits absolutely on such knowledge.

Then, there must be an unfailing taste-such a development, in fact, as will come only from most elaborate study and reading along a multitude of literary and musical lines and which is the outgrowth of the observation of innumerable art forms.

"Yet, with all this as a necessity to the fine accompanist, and with the added certainty that he must know the violin and organ, something of all instruments, and a great deal of vocal values, it yet remains true that he, must gain his most practical knowledge by actual accompanying-and so, by any means he can discover he must find singers and players who will put up with his inefficiency and give him his most useful lessons in merely allowing him to play for them as best he can while he is still in the formative stage. The position of a good accompanist is a desirable one, and the emoluments are not by any means the least that can be found in music as a profession, but let him who thinks accompanying is easy pause and consider the few facts detailed here, and before he talks much of "professional accompanying" let him plan to spend several years in active preparation.