Many
years ago I discovered a copy of Tobias Matthay’s The Act of Touch in all its
Diversity (London, 1903) and his Relaxation Studies…in Pianoforte Playing (London, 1908)
in a second-hand bookshop. I recall flicking through these books looking for
some inspiration to help me improve my piano playing. I was disappointed. It seemed
to be all words and little music. I resolved to return to my Smallwood Tutor and whatever exercises
and studies my teacher deemed necessary to my ‘progress.’ I never thought about
Matthay again until I discovered his bewitching piano solo ‘On Surrey Hills’.
It had exactly the kind of title that appeals to me, so I hunted around the
‘net to find out if Matthay had written any more pieces in this genre. There
were a few – A Summer Day-Dream, Elves, Summer Twilights and A Mood
Fantasy (In Late Summer at Marley). I was lucky enough to find a ‘hard’ copy of
this last piece. It all seems very
promising.
In
the last couple of years I have had pleasure in reviewing a number of CDs from
APR Records. These are explorations of the recorded legacy of pianists from
‘The Matthay School’ featuring Myra Hess, Harriet Cohen and Moura Lympany.
Other CDs in this series include Irene Sharrer, Eileen Joyce, Ethel
Bartlett and Rae Robertson. As part of
those reviews, I explored some of the available literature and was surprised to
find a whole stable of pianists that had studied with Matthay – York Bowen, Sir
Clifford Curzon, Vivian Langrish and Eunice Norton. My original view that Tobias Matthay’s books
were merely ‘verbose psychologising’ probably needed revising.
A
few biographical notes about Tobias Matthay may be of interest. He was born on 19 February 1858 to German parents;
however he became a naturalised British citizen. In 1871 Matthay entered the Royal Academy of
Music to study with William Sterndale Bennett, Ebenezer Prout, Arthur Sullivan
and George Macfarren. Five years later,
he was appointed sub-professor and then from 1880 full professor of advanced
piano at the Academy. As well as teaching he was also a recitalist. In 1893 Matthay married Jessie Kennedy, who
was sister of the great Scottish singer and composer Marjory Kennedy-Fraser. He opened his own private school in 1900 where
he was able to teach his performance theories as explained in his The Act of Touch and other volumes. Branches
of the Matthay School were established in many towns in Britain and in other
countries including the United States. Mid-century, there were a number of
challenges to Matthay’s pedagogic ideas, especially from his one-time pupil James
Ching. However, whatever one’s views were of these technical matters, the proof
of his success lies in the number of pupils that went on to become celebrated
pianists. It is probably fair to suggest that he communicated his ideas on a
one-to-one basis rather more effectively than in his books. Tobias Matthay died at his beautiful house, High Marley
Manor in 1945, aged 87.
England’s Piano Sage: The Life and Teachings of Tobias Matthay by Stephen Siek represents the first comprehensive study of the teacher/composer.
There is very little available information
about Matthay. In 1945 The Life and Works of Tobias Matthay by his wife,
Jessie Henderson Matthay, was published. This book had been largely completed
in 1937 shortly before she died: it is
more of an ‘affectionate family chronicle’ rather than a scholarly analysis of
his life, teachings and musical compositions.
Other notices are more fleeting. Grove manages less than 250 words. There
is no entry in the National Biography.
Most references to Matthay would appear to be oblique ones in the biographies
and autobiographies of his students such as that by Moura Lympany or Harriet
Cohen’s Bundle of Time. A major source of information
is included in exhaustive liner notes to the above mentioned CDs all written by
Siek: so there is no better person to have written the present volume than him.
Stephen
Siek is professor of piano and music history at Wittenberg University in
Springfield, Ohio. His career has included
regular appearances as a recitalist, a chamber musician and a lecturer on music
in the United Kingdom and the States. He has contributed many articles to
respected journals such as the American
Music Teacher, the Piano Quarterly
and American Music. He has written a
number of entries for the Revised New
Grove. Siek is currently President of the American Matthay Association
which is a flourishing organisation. Of
particular interest is the author’s period of piano studies with Frank
Mannheimer, who was a ‘favored’ pupil of Matthay, and also a 15-year period,
with Denise Lassimonne, who was Matthay's adopted daughter.
Stephen
Siek’s massive book is a largely chronological study of Tobias Matthay’s life
and achievement. Each chapter advances the story towards the rather sad ending
when, after his death, the premises of the Matthay School were disposed
of.
A
considerable part of the text is dedicated to expounding the ‘Matthay Method.’ The author has set this ‘method’ in the
context of contemporary piano ‘pedagogy’ in England and abroad. This is quite
difficult stuff for the reader to get to grips with: I am not sure I have
succeeded. However a number of markers can be set down to help the reader.
Firstly, Myra Hess has stated that there was no ‘method’ as such. Secondly, it
is helpful to approach the ‘teaching’ by examining its antithesis: Paderewski
once wrote that ‘the fingers must be worked until they are cramped and
exhausted and started again when they have rested.’ This idea of virtue in painful practice was
one of the mores that Matthay was working against. Hess wrote that ‘the whole
plan (of Matthay’s teaching), which reverses that of the conventional ‘piano
tutor’ is based on the aim to make music, that is, to produce the right sound;
before the …mind is diverted to tackle other intellectual problems.’ It was
necessary to ‘stimulate…the innate feeling for rhythmical contrasts and
accentuation.’ The old idea that finger and wrist gymnastics were the be-all-and-end-all
of technique was to be abandoned. New ideas of ‘muscular relaxation and
elasticity, utilisation of arm weight, rotary movement of the forearm’ were to
be used.’ Unfortunately sentences from
Matthay’s works have tended to obscure rather than help the student: - ‘the
action and freedom of forearm rotation’ and more enigmatically, ‘the
instantaneous relaxation of superfluous pressure.’ I guess that one needs a teacher to expound
these: they do not make much sense just reading them.
One
of the sections of the book that deeply interested me was the informed
discussion about the rivalry between Myra Hess and Harriet Cohen (two of my greatest
musical heroines). Some of this I have
already come across, such as Arnold Bax’s duplicity in dedicating works to
‘Tania’ (Cohen) but having the premieres given by Hess. Another interesting line of exploration is
Denise Lassimonne. Lassimonne was born in Camberley, Surrey in 1903 of French
parents. She studied piano with Matthay at the Royal Academy of Music. After the
death of her father she was adopted by the Matthay family. Denise Lassimonne
seems to have left precious few recordings of her piano playing, however, there
are some compositions and several books including the tribute volume Myra Hess by her friends (1965) and a
short study of Tobias Matthay’s teaching methods, Opening the Shutters (1961). Other musicians beside Matthay’s pupils that
are examined in some detail include Frederick Corder, Alexander Mackenzie and John
Blackwood McEwen. Importantly, the book details Matthay’s ‘fall from grace’,
his arguments with McEwen and his eventual departure from the Royal Academy of
Music.
Scarecrow
Press have produced an impressive volume. I could argue that the font size is
just a little small for older eyes; however I guess that it was a trade-off
between the number of pages and the text size.
The author has chosen to use chapter endnotes which are fine; however
there are a considerable number so the reader needs to keep a finger or a
marker in place as they read. For example, Chapter 5 ‘…Scottish Interlude’ has
some 123 notes over six pages. An
essential list of abbreviations is provided at the start of the book which
typically refers to a wide range of primary sources including Matthay’s key
texts. There are some 30 photographs included in the text as opposed to plates.
This has led to a certain diminution of quality and sharpness, however I
imagine it would have made the book much more expensive. Whatever the case,
these photographs are of considerable historical interest and help the reader
situate Matthay in his artistic milieu. I was particularly interested in the photo of
Matthay’s gorgeous house at High Marley Rest. Included in these photographs are a number of
the teacher’s protégés. A few diagrams
have been included representing some of Matthay’s ‘scientific’ concepts for
improving the ‘Art of Touch.’
Interestingly there are more than fifty musical examples given in the
text, many from Matthay’s pedagogic works as well as his recital pieces.
I
was surprised to find that the list of Tobias Matthay’s works – both literary
and musical was only ‘selective.’ As a neophyte in Matthay studies it would
have been helpful to have had a near-complete listing. I do not know whether
these represent the vast majority of his work or whether there are reams of
undiscovered material. I am guessing that ‘selective’ is used simply as a means
of avoiding criticism if something worthy was to turn up in the future. Was there enough information available to have
provided a discography? I know of a handful of recordings of Matthay’s playing:
there may be more. An appendix including the text of Matthay’s brief ‘The Nine
Steps towards Finger Individualization through Forearm Rotation’ is printed.
This is a ‘distillation’ of his teaching.
There is an excellent ‘selective’ bibliography of secondary sources
which includes many of the autobiographies and biographies of his pupils and
associates. A good index rounds off the ‘tools’ part of this book.
I
enjoyed reading and perusing this book. If I am honest, I found the ‘pedagogical’
part of this text very hard going – to the point where I largely gave up.
However, I am not an aspiring concert pianist and the study of music teaching
is not something that I wish to specialise in.
This
book is not going to inspire me to read Matthay’s treatises, however it will
encourage me to explore the legacy of his pupils with greater interest and
understanding. For someone who majors in
performance technique this book is a treasure trove. There is also much to
interest the specialist of English music: Matthay’s compositions for piano and
orchestra are explored in some depth. The other day I leafed through many of
his piano works at the Royal College of Music: I was surprised just how interesting
they look. I do hope that someone will want to explore them in the near future.
Looking
at the achievements of Matthay's pupils, and their affection and respect for
their teacher, this volume is essential for all musical historians to
understand what personality traits and pedagogical accomplishments this
admiration is based on. I guess that most readers will use this as a ‘source’
book whilst investigating one or other of Tobias Matthay’s many pupils: it will
certainly be my main use of it.
Perhaps
the most telling sentence in this book is when Stephen Siek describes the
enthusiastic support given to him by a member of staff at the Royal Academy of
Music, but who then warned, ‘unfortunately most of our students would know the
name ‘Matthay’ only because of a classroom in our building which bears his
name.’ It is a sad commentary, however Siek has done much to situate Matthay
back into the fabric of 20th century British musical history. He
allows the reader to feel immense warmth and sympathy for a man who many have
never heard of, or, like myself imagined as a frosty pedagogue in his ivory
tower. People may disagree with, or criticise Matthay’s achievements, however,
due to the many historical recordings of Cohen, Hess, Curzon et al, his legacy
is there for all to hear. For me, Matthay’s achievement is summed up by Myra
Hess who wrote that before she had lessons with Matthay she had ‘just played.
Now she began to think.’
The
last word must go to Matthay himself: when he was with one of his pupils in the
dressing room prior to a recital, his single sentence of encouragement was
quite simply ‘Enjoy the Music.’
Scarecrow Press Inc. 2012
472ppSB
ISBN: 978-0-8108-8161-7
£39:95
1 comment:
Small world...1When I read this I recognized the name of the author. I knew Steve in high school here in southwest Ohio. Pleased to learn of his impressive career. I referred to our son's birthday in a previous comment. Our daughter's birth date is Jan 27. This blog is a continuous delight. Paul
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