A painter hangs his or her finished pictures on a wall, and everyone
can see it. A
composer writes a work, but no one
can hear it until it
is performed. Professional singers and players have great
responsibilities, for the
composer is utterly dependent on them. A
student of music needs as long and as arduous a training to become a
performer as a medical student needs to become a doctor. Most training
is concerned with technique, for musicians have to have the muscular
proficiency of an athlete or a ballet dancer. Singers practice
breathing every day, as their vocal chords would be inadequate without
controlled muscular support. String players practice moving the fingers
of the left hand up and down, while drawing the bow to and fro with the
right arm—two entirely different movements.
Singers and instruments have to be able to get every note
perfectly in tune. Pianists are spared this particular anxiety, for the
notes are already there, waiting for them, and it is the piano tuner’s
responsibility to tune the instrument for them. But they have their own
difficulties; the hammers that hit the string have to be coaxed not to
sound like percussion, and each overlapping tone has to sound clear.
This problem of getting clear texture is one that confronts
student conductors: they have to learn to know every note of the music
and how it should sound, and they have to aim at controlling these
sound with fanatical but selfless authority.
Technique is of no use unless it is combined with musical
knowledge and understanding. Great artists are those who are so
thoroughly at home in the language of music that they can enjoy
performing works written in any century.