, Chapter VIII Master Teacher: The Ecole Normale Years (ca. 1920-1962) Artist-teachers can generate fervor. They can transform routine work into a passionate search. They can lead us to revel in realms infinitely more spacious than anything they or we have within us. They can catapult us into the imaginative life and quicken us to experience art as an ecstasy to be treasured and loved. With them we live in eloquence without syntax, in music itself. Abraham chasinsl Returning to France in February 1919 with glowing American reviews in hand, Cortot could not resist the temptation to build on the momentum of his trans-Atlantic triumphs. He set off almost immediately to tour Britain, then made his way across the South of France in April. His initial few months1 leave from the Conservatoire stretched into a yeart2 as he played eighty concerts in all during the 1918-1919 season. In May of 1919 Cortot penned a brief overview of the American musical scene for a French magazine. He had been duly impressed by the number of large concert halls, by the size and prosperity of musical instrument and record player manufacturers, and by the princely salaries of American conductors and orchestral players (who, he reported, earned about four times as much as their French counterparts). He regretted that native composers had produced little of consequence and seemed unable to develop an distinctly American musical idiom (apparently jazz did not qualify in his eyes as music). "Des musiciens, oui. De la musique, point encoret1 (wMusicians, yes. Music--none at all yetw) , he wrote. What Cortot found most intriguing was the accessibility of music and music training to the common people: Music is everywhere in America. In the concert halls, of course, but likewise in the street, at home ..., in meetings, in big department stores, at university functions, in hotels, not to mention countless conservatories and specialized schools. It is rare to find an American student who is not learning an instrument, or at least singing in a choir. ........................................ ............. Music is not reserved over there for the privileged few, as is the case in Western Europe. It is produced for everyone, and everyone takes advantage of it. It is subsidized by associations and individual patrons ... everywhere .... [IJt is comical to see certain French artists depart for a tour of America believing in good faith that they are going off to convert savages or reveal music to illiterates! Do you think that America needs missionaries? Letts look at ourselves in the mirror before spouting such idiocies with a straight face. 4 With Cortotvs grueling schedule of performances (forty concerts, six long recording sessions for Victor, and additional sessions to make piano rolls between October 20, 1918 and January 28, 1919), he could not have investigated American music education very thoroughly. He did not realize how inadequate and parochial much of the piano teaching outside major conservatories was, nor how little success public school music programs had had in turning the average citizen into a cultivated classical music lover. His was an idealized picture of American music: what excited him was the idea of a democratized music education in which high quality, affordable music instruction was available to any and all. A New School of Music. The idea of establishing an Ecole Normale de Musique--a llnormal schoolI1 of music that would offer students a comprehensive musical education--in Paris does not seem to have been inspired by any institution Cortot saw in the States. In fact, to give credit where it is due, the plan in all likelihood was the brainchild of Auguste Mangeot. Mangeot, like his father Edouard before him, had always shown a keen interest in music education. As editor-in-chief of the popular Monde Musical, he developed this music journal into a forum for ideas and debate on pedagogical methods, institutional reform, curriculum, etc. It was Mangeot, perhaps with Cortotls artistic advice, who worked out the specifics of the proposed schoolls philosophy and curriculum while the two men were working at the cultural office in 1918. From the earliest reports it is clear that the project originated at Action Artistique headquarters and was shepherded through official channels by Mangeot. The Ecole Normale was originally intended--or at least presented to the Beaux-Arts ministry--as a powerful propaganda tool. The Monde Musical announced in January of 1919 that in its December [I9181 meeting the Advisory Committee of Action Artistique of the Beaux-Arts approved M. Mangeot's project for the founding of the Ecole Normale de Musique in Paris. The Minister [of Beaux-Arts], Me Lafferre, had previously asked Me Henry Expert to study this project and report on its feasibility. He did so, in terms so glowing and enthusiastic that modesty forbids us from reporting them. We will confine ourselves to indicating ... the goal and artistic principles behind this creation. Before the war, Germany was the great center of musical training, not only for its own citizens but for foreigners as well. Its private and state Conservatories, its Academies and Hochschulen attracted large numbers of music students from all over the world to Leipzig, Frankfurt, Berlin, Munich, etc. These musicians, once having completed their studies, returned to their home countries strongly marked--often to the detriment of their creative powers--by German methods and tastes.... Both in their teaching and in their personal creative work they became, knowingly or not, propagandists for German music, editions and instruments. After the war are we going to allow these thousands of students to return to Germany, or wouldn't we like to attract them to France? The answer is obvious.... But by the start of the new school year following the signing of the peace treaty we must have a musical institution prepared to receive all the foreign students who wish to avail themselves of French music teaching. The Conservatoire is not suited to these purposes. It admits only a tiny number of pupils, under very restrictive conditions of age, subject choice and length of study. It leaves room for a school which, possessing a certain artistic and administrative independence, could complement it without either competing with it or copying 5 it.. . . Auguste Mangeot intended his new school to be much more than a propaganda tool, but he realized that unless he could secure the backing of the official powers his project was unlikely to succeed. His arguments were cleverly calculated to appeal to the Clemenceau government, which was bent on humiliating Germany and reducing it to economic servitude. At the same time he took pains to allay the fears of the Conservatoire administration, which would oppose any potential rival. Mangeot must have been a very shrewd diplomat. He not only won approval for the founding of the Ecole Normale, he even convinced Saint-Saens, Widor and Faure to serve as its honorary patrons. Mangeot persuaded many prominent musicians, including a number of Conservatoire professors, to accept an appointment at the Ecole Normale in addition to whatever positions they already held. Several who initially agreed to join the faculty--Ravel, dfIndy, Risler, and Emile Jaques-Dalcroze-- reneged before classes got underway. Still, when the fledgling school announced its fall course offerings in 1919, it could boast a keyboard faculty that included Isidor Philipp, Lucien Wurmser, Marguerite Long, Blanche Selva, Joseph Morpain, Cortot (all piano), Wanda Landowska (harpsichord), Nadia Boulanger and Marcel Dupre (organ). Most of these celebrities did not actually teach regular classes. Rather, they served as Itchefs d'e~ole,~~ which meant that they were entitled to select delegate-instructors to teach their methods in classes which they were to inspect personally at least once a month. Each Itchef dlecolew was expected to teach four to six master classes (llcours s~perieurs~~) a year, and each was granted a voice in artistic/academic decisions via a Comite dlEtudes, a steering committee which also included several distinguished musicians not teaching at the school. The business administration of the Ecole Normale was delegated to a societe anonvme and an Administrative Council composed of Mangeot, M. Rene-Godet, Marc Laberte, the Marquis de Polignac, A. Rateau, Serge Sandberg (a film impresario who revived the Pasdeloup Concerts), Maurice de Wendel and a lawyer, Maitre Schaffauser. Cortotls First Public Inter~retation Course. Surprising as it may seem in light of his later role at the Ecole Normale, Cortot did not participate in the academic or administrative affairs of the Ecole Normale during its inaugural year (1919-20). Nor does he appear to have named delegate-teachers to his wecolell. He was on official leave from the Conservatoire. He toured constantly, returning to France only in June 1920 to give his first llcours superieur d1interpretationfI1 devoted to works of Schubert, Weber, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Schumann and Liszt. The participants in Cortotls master classes that summer made up in quality what they lacked in quantity. They were for the most part not llstudentsll but young concert pianists about to embark on a career.7 By chance we have a first-hand account of the classes from A. M. ~enderson~, who assisted Cortot, perhaps as a translator, in 1920 and 1921. Henderson recalls that from the beginning Cortot conducted his course in such a way that it benefited not only the performers who played but also the large contingent of auditors: At first, the artist group numbered around twenty, and the teachers and students about double that number. In one season, the course had become so popular with teachers, and so helpful generally that the auditor group increased to about 100, and a move had to be made... in order to accomodate all who wished to attend.... The classes opened at 2 olclock and ended at five, but the time passed too quickly, it was so interesting, so stimulating, and even exciting. The standard of performance was astonishingly high .... I question if anything finer in this way could have been heard since the Weimar days of Franz Liszt, or at the best classes of Leschetizky in Vienna. Cortot opened the class each day with a short talk on the life and works of the composer to be studied, drawing special attention to the qualities necessary in technique and interpretation for the successful performance of the composer. These short talks were models of their kind in their conciseness, clarity and helpfulness. His criticisms of each performer were of the same encouraging and helpful order, and as he concluded by playing the work himself, his precepts were crowned in the light of example. As an artist, his comments were always practical .... [H]e constantly reminded students of the importance of muscular freedom and flexibility in the whole playing apparatus, from shoulder to fingertip. On the side of technique, his ideas on the rhythmic treatment of scales, arpeggios and other technical forms, especially the combining of different rhythms at the same time, were most useful.... Carrying these principles a stage further, Cortot recommended that all technically difficult passages, in actual art music, be practiced ... with varied rhythms. A feature of Cortotls teaching was his continual insistence on clarity, rhythm and articulation. These were ever characteristic qualities of his own Cortot, who reportedly "talked almost as much as he playedN1 in that first course, proved to be brilliant in the public master class setting. Whether by his perceptive observations or his galvanizing presence, he managed to draw from performers their best artistic efforts. He had a rare gift, moreover, for "bringing his audience into sympathetic resonancell with his thinkinglo so that even the amateurs and non-pianists in attendance found his lessons fascinating. ll Makinq the Commitment. During the summer of 1920 Cortot had a chance to observe first hand how the Ecole Normale was progressing with its study programs, enrollment and artistic goals. He apparently decided that its prospects for becoming one of the top educational institutions in France, perhaps in all of Europe, were bright and that it was in his interests to influence its orientation. That, of course, would necessitate his becoming much more actively involved with the school--and soon, while policies and curricula were still in the formative stages. At the same time, he was not willing to renounce the many invitations to tour that were coming his way. After designating Mmes. Giraud-Latarse and Kastler- Galanti as his representatives at the Ecole Normale,12 Cortot proceded to put some distance between himself and the Conservatoire. His first move was to request a three-year leave of absence without pay from the school, citing the favorable publicity that the ecole fran~aise would reap if he were allowed to concertize abroad extensively.l2 Around the same time Cortot fired off an article which, if it did not attack the Conservatoire directly, certainly made it clear that he felt it was high time for some changes in the music education system. I1De llenseignement du piano au ConservatoireV1 (l1Piano Teaching at the Conservatoire1I) appeared on the front page of the July 1920 issue of the popular Courrier Musical. It read in part as follows: Recent debates in the Chamber over the budget for Public Education have shown that our legislators are concerned not only that children receive an education, but that what they learn will prepare them to adapt to the world and circumstances in which they will ultimately find themselves. I would think that the Government... should have the same concern for the future of the specialists formed [in our artistic schools]. But if we take the Conservatoire...as an example, what we find is an education admirable for the excellence of the maltres who dispense it, but the system of which does not appear to have been adjusted to suit present-day needs of earning a living. Examining ... the piano teaching, we find the same methods as those that sufficed fifty years ago for the musical and technical training of several dozen students. Back then,... more demanding competition juries ... enforced a rigorous selection that weeded out all but the truly talented. For those deemed worthy of it, the premier prix represented an insurance for the future, opening the door to concerts... and guaranteeing to some extent fame and financial security. Now nine classes are barely enough to accommodate the hundreds of pupils who request admission each year. Almost every annual competition brings a proportional increase in the number of first prize winners... swelling the imposing ranks of their predecessors. Among this inflated number who graduate each year, leaving--too soon, in my opinion--the teaching of the Conservatoire on the strength of an extremely narrow examination where they can show at most some virtuosic and interpretive qualities: how many will have the good fortune, determination in work or exceptionally rare gifts ... that will allow them to reasonably hope to make a living from their art as concert performers? I wouldn't dare make an exact count,... since it would be disastrous and demoralizing for these youngsters who are sustained in their intense work by the hope of an easy and glorious life. But we have only to glance at the list of laureates for the last twenty-five years to realize that out of three hundred or three hundred and fifty first prizes which could have aspired to such a future, five or six at most have managed to see their youthful dreams come true. What has become of the rest? They have been forced, at the end of several years of struggling, of dashed artistic ambitions ..., to do for a living what their virtuoso training and their aspirations entitle them to consider a sort of moral setback--that is, to take up a modest teaching position. And instead of tackling it with the enthusiasm which is indispensable to withstand the inconveniences and frustrations of what can be a difficult and thankless job, they see themselves stuck in it, with a sort of bitterness that surely doesn't predispose them to exercise the art with the fervor and generosity of spirit desirable. Moreover, nothing, or almost nothing, unfortunately, in this lofty but hasty Conservatoire training has prepared them for the moral and pedagogical role which most of them will have to excercise later. Their ambition, sparked by the success and fame of their maitre, is frequently nurtured by parents harboring illusions.... In addition, the special atmosphere of the Conservatoire, this sort of feverish excitement fanned by the very preparation for the concours... breeds an amour- propre conducive to intensive work but certainly incompatible with being satisfied to do such a useful and modest task. Wouldn't it be advisable to seek a way out of this dilemma, and wouldn't it be wise of a government to create at the Conservatoire the courses necessary to prepare the majority of the pupils for what they will later do in life, rather than stimulating--irresponsibly --appetites which it does not have the power to satisfy! It seems to me that it is time to establish two or three pure pedagogy courses,... which, while requiring a sufficient command of the instrument to interpret the great masterpieces, would focus essentially on applying knowledge of the repertoire in the art of teaching. There are ground rules for this art, and they have been expertly formulated in numerous books. It would be advisable to extract the general concepts and examine in what situations each might be effectively applied and when, on the contrary, it might be better to modify the rule. Different compositions and styles should be considered, since one doesn't play Bach like Schumann..., and it is by discovering what special conditions and didactic strategies apply in the music of each major composer that an aspiring teacher could enrich his storehouse of knowledge and practical experience. Likewise, one should study what practice methods are best suited to the particular temperament and ways of learning of each individual pupil. One should learn how to identify pupils' deficiencies, their qualities, their mind sets, their different physical attributes. his would entail analyzing such factors on a case by case basis, applying one's ingenuity to finding the most efficient means of reinforcing the positive quality or overcoming the deficiency as need be, with each class member in turn making observations and suggestions under the supervision of the professor. If we could establish a certificate (brevet) of pedagogical aptitude for those successfully completing the courses I've just described, this would give the recipients not only a well-deserved reward for their efforts but also the certitude that they could profit concretely from the knowledge they will have acquired. Naturally, the Conservatoire would still single out for special [performance] training those youngsters who appear to be particularly gifted for the interpretive art. This group would continue to cultivate their exceptional talents and would form, as in the past, the brilliant contingent of virtuosi upon which the school prides itself. As for those who wisely want to provide for their immediate future, exposure to a quasi- scientific [pedagogical] training will equip them with work habits and analytical skills that will be of invaluable help to them in their later teaching practice. Instead of having to accumulate the necessary know-how little by little, empirically, ... groping their way by trial and error experimentation which turns their first students into research subjects, they will be able to draw upon a schooling (culture) designed to address their professional needs. In expressing the hope that instruction in piano pedagogy will be instituted as soon as possible at the Conservatoire, I think that while I may not be saying what some young people who may have ventured into music without much serious reflection... would like to hear right now, I'm at least voicing my real apprehension for the future which experience tells us awaits most of them --a future that will be less prosperous and less glamorous than the hothouse years of the Conservatoire might lead them to suspect. How Cortot's article was recieved by his colleagues and at the Conservatoire one can only conjecture. Publicly, the administration maintained an icy silence, neither defending the existing system nor proposing any reforms. Mangeot, on the other hand, was quick to answer on behalf of the Ecole Normale. ''The cause has been heard," he wrote in a Monde Musical editorial. "Now we must consider how to implement the [pedagogy] course in practical terms. tt14 As it happened, no action was taken on the proposed class until Cortot assumed the artistic directorship of the Ecole Normale around 1923, leaving little doubt that he was the moving force behind a specialized teacher training. l5 By 1925 the Ecole Normale had undergone some important changes in personnel and was rapidly outgrowing its quarters at 64, rue Jouffroy (17~). Mangeot was now administrative director, and Cortot, apart from his position as artistic director, was head of by far the largest "scho01'~ in the piano division.16 Marguerite Long, who succeeded Diemer at the Conservatoire in 1920, had resigned. In 1925 she founded her own rival "cours superieur de virtuositel' at the Maison Erard. Dupre, Wurmser, Morpain and Blanche Selva had moved on, though the first three would later rejoin the faculty.17 In the strings department Maurice Hayot and Thibaud continued to supervise llschools'l but Capet, Firmin Touche and Andre Hekking had left. Casals was titular head of a 'cello "scho01,'~ but in reality he had delegated all teaching to his representative Diran Alexanian.18 The voice department boasted some distinguished singers of the day (Jane Bathori, Helene Guillou, Charles Panzera) and offered summer master classes with two highly admired artists, Ninon Vallin and Claire Croiza. Nadia Boulanger, barely mentioned in the early publicity for the school, had by 1925 become a much sought-after professor of harmony, counterpoint, organ and music history. She played an increasingly important role at the Ecole Normale through the thirties,19 as did Alexanian. After a brief preface justifying the inclusion of general music courses in all the Ecole Normalems instrumental and vocal programs of study,28 there are sections on "How to Practice a Work!! and !!How to Communicate it to Listeners1!--or so the sub- headings read. In reality, the whole pamphlet consists of general guidelines for practicing a musical work. The first section (tlComment travailler ...l!) deals with the mental phase of score learning and interpretation, the second (I1Comment communiquer ...") with the actual work of realization at the instrument. Significantly, Cortot devotes three times as much commentary to the mental aspects, drawing analogies with the process by which one learns a poem for recitation. With the musical as with the literary text, he writes, the first step is to "make the work one1 s own (Itmettre 1 oeuvre en soiw ) . . . , to com-prehend it, in the etymological sense of the word.w29 To achieve comprehension, Cortot recommends multiple mental readings (general, harmonic, stylistic, wconductorialll) and structural analysis. The pupil who cannot hear in his inner ear what he sees on the page must sing all the important lines on solfege syllables. This preliminary work, Cortot says, !!must be done with the greatest thoroughness, and without fear of spending too much time on it.... The pupil will know that he has done the first phase well when he can hear the work sing fully within him, i.e., when he knows the piece rather well already by heartmt!30 It would be desirable, he adds, "for the pupil to get used to writing the piece out by memory on staff paperf31 or at the very least, copying it.1t32 The second part of the pamphlet contains a few time- honored suggestions for keyboard practice (e.g., play through the piece once up to tempo, practice in detail and with varied approaches, knit the fragments together). On memorizing, Cortot writes: The fingers have no ability to memorize, only a capacity to automatize through repetition. One should not push the sort of instrumental drill that works to promote this [muscular] automatization, which is entirely destroyed as soon as one implements another. Memory work should be entirely intellectual and should be reinforced by remarks on... aspects of the music's structure and expressive character. It is not very clear to whom this brochure was addressed. At times Cortot seems to be advising pupils who are musically unschooled and have not developed their critical faculties,34 while other comments seem aimed at the instructors who could be dealing with such pupils. In his remarks on memorizing, he clearly errs in believing all automatic reflexes to be transitory and easily wre-programmable.1t35 Many would also question his notion that memorization should be entirely intellectual (the moreso since in concert he was not a very good advertisement for his theory). Rightly or wrongly, the message that emerges from this booklet is that one should barely touch the keys at all until the mental phase of learning is well advanced or even complete. If Cortot had said that there can be no mastery of the music unless there is mastery of the mental skills, one could agree 473 when you anticipate an interpretation before allowing the emotional content of the music to express itself through you. Focusing prematurely on interpretive details can rob you of spontaneity and foster additional [emotional and physical] obstacles. This is not to suggest that you should sit at the piano in a trancelike state with a come-what-may attitude ..., [but] you may complicate your response to music during the first stage of learning by overanalyzing .... In general, your grasp of the true meaning of a composition and your ability to articulate that meaning will be furthered by reading through the music freely and daringly. Surely Cortot himself played "freely and daringlyt1 sometimes when learning new repertoire. Presumably he did not practice only in slow tempi, as recommended in the pamphlet. 39 These self -contradictions may well be more apparent than real and perhaps arise from his tendency to state his precepts in extreme, categorical terms. In 1925-26 the Ecole Normale established its first pure pedagogy classes, taught that year by Yvonne Lefebure and Raymond Thiberge. Required only of candidates for the Licence dlenseisnement at first, music pedagogy was split up into three distinct subjects that were taught and tested ~eparately:~~ 1) Pedagogie du mecanisme intellectuel 2) Pedagogie du mecanisme musculaire instrumental ou vocal 3) Pedagogie de llinterpretation This curriculum may represent the first time any French music school offered formal pedagogy courses. Over the following decades there were many changes in the class organization, content and faculty, but the discipline remained an essential 474 component of teaching track (di~l6me and licence) study programs as long as Cortot was director of the Ecole Normalea41 In the Seat of Power. ---- The departure of Isidor Philipp in 1927 brought to a close the era of rivalries between respected, highly dissimilar piano lvschoolslt within the Ecole Normale. From this point on, Cortot and his representatives dominated the piano department. Not that all diversity of approach was eliminated. Lazare-Levy stayed on for a while, as did four of Philipp's appointees: Leon Conus, Jean Manuel, Fernand Motte-Lacroix and Mme. Bachelot-Alaroze. Also teaching at the Ecole Normale for varying periods between 1927-1939 were Lucien Wurmser and Camille Decreus (de Beriot disciples), Pierre Maire and Vlado Perlemuter (from the Cortot/Lortat class), Janine Weill (a Long/Cortot pupil who later became Marguerite Long's assistant and biographer), Henri Gil-Marchex and Marcel Ciampi (both Diemer products), Mmes. Piltan de St. Germain and Lienard (both Delaborde), Celiny Chailley-Richez (Pugno) and the independent ~hiberge.~~ The technical precepts and performance values of these teachers differed--in some cases markedly--from those of Cortot's close circle. It appears, however, that none amassed enough stature and following to build up a bona fide uschooll~ of his/her own. 43 Cortot, by contrast, had organized his growing entourage into an impressive operation over the late 'twenties that worked a bit like the farm system of a professional athletic club. On the bottom rung, under the supervision of Mme. Giraud-Latarse, were instructors (nearly all students of his or students of students) whose classes consisted largely of elementary and intermediate level pupils working toward the brevet. As these pupils progressed, the better ones were fed into high-level classes taught by Cortotws closest and most competent associates (notably Mmes. Giraud-Latarse, Lefebure, Bascourret and Kastler-Galanti), who groomed them for participation in his cours dwinterpretation. The distinction between elementary and advanced-level professors was not strict. Many teachers other than those just named had di~l6me and licence candidates in their classes from time to time. There was, however, a definite hiearchy: "It was a complex and quite efficient organi~ation,~~ said Reine Gianoli. wwCortot had a very keen sense for how to use the strengths of his associates to best advantage. Each teacher had his/her responsibilities. For instance, pupils who had technical shortcomings were sent for fifteen or twenty minutes a week to Mme. Blan~ard,~~ who specialized in teaching the excercises in Cortot s Princi~es rationnels . w45 The fact that w@pianow@ became practically synonymous with wwCortotww at the Ecole Normale enabled pupils to benefit from a certain consistency of musical and pedagogical outlook from the preparatory to the advanced level of study,46 and it was certainly no deterrent to enrollment growth in the piano department. On the contrary, Cortotls name drew pupils in record numbers--not only major talents from abroad, but also increasing numbers of French (aspiring teachers, children, gifted amateurs). Although the Licence @ Concert was no match yet for a premier prix as a status symbol, the Ecole Normale was slowly but surely gaining on the Conservatoire, a situation that caused considerable anxiety at the older institution and even provoked several policy changes. 47 By 1932, the number of piano classes at the Ecole Normale had risen to twenty-seven. That fall the school had 640 pupils enrolled in lessons or professional study programs, despite the fact that France was in the midst of a severe economic crisis that hit private schools especially hard.48 Cortot was the decisive factor that enabled the Ecole Normale to wax strong while other institutions waned. His prestige at home and abroad grew with every tour (between 1925- 1935 he gave about a thousand concerts on three continents) and was further enhanced in those years by the appearance of his study editions of the Chopin Preludes (1926), Ballades (1929- 1931), Sonatas Nos. 2 and 3 (1930), his important Principes rationnels (1928) and essays on French piano music, and most of all perhaps by his famous master classes in interpretati~n.~~ Then there were his sixty lecture-recitals, his conducting appearances, the forty-odd recordings he made between 1929-1935 alone, and countless smaller projects. The man was a phenomenon, and his interpretation courses drew young pianists to Paris by the droves. From the mid 'twenties, one finds talents of the first order coming to the Ecole Normale: Igor Markevitch ('26), Gina Bachauer ('28), Reine Gianoli ('31), Ruth Slencyznska ('32), Halina Czerny-Stefanska ('33), Dinu Lipatti ('34), Samson Frangois ('36). Some, like Slencyznska and Czerny-Stefanska, were child prodigies that Cortot met while touring. Others, like Bachauer and Lipatti, were adolescents on the threshold of important careers who came to the master for finishing studies. Cortot seemed to have a miraculous ability to squeeze additional activities into his overloaded schedule. From ca. 1929 he began giving monthly master classes to the candidates for the Licence & Concert.S0 The final programs of the three students who were awarded a Licence in 1931 give an idea of the standard of repertoire/playing expected: 1) 0. Vondrovic (Czech). Principal teacher: Lefebure Bach-Busoni Beethoven Chopin Liszt Franck Rave1 Brahms Chamber music - Chaconne - Sonata, Op. 109 in E major - Sonata in b minor - Funerailles - Prelude, choral et fugue -- Jeux dleau - Variations on a Theme by Handel (required piece, given to all candidates six weeks before the exam) - one important sonata, trio or piano quartet 2) Radu Mihail (Rumanian). Principal teacher: Bascourret de Gueraldi Bach-Liszt Bach-Busoni Beethoven chopin Liszt-Paganini Enesco Brahms Chamber music Fantasy and Fugue in g minor Chaconne Sonata, Op. 111 in c minor Ballade No. 2 Etude in a minor Suite in D major Handel Variations as above 3 ) Andre Collard (French?) . Principal teacher: Lef ebure Bach-Liszt Beethoven Chopin Chopin Schumann Liszt Debussy Brahms Chamber music Fantasy and Fugue in g minor 32 Variations in c minor Fantasie in f minor Etudes in c minor, G~ major Etudes symphoniques Mephisto Waltz Prelude: Ce quva vu le vent dvouest Handel Variations as above The final examination took the form of a closed hearing before a jury composed of prestigious musicians not affiliated with the school. In addition to playing significant portions of their program, Licence candidates had to furnish analytical/ historical/stylistic reports on each piece prepared and had to sight-read and analyze an unknown work. From ca. 1926 the repertoire requirements for final programs had been eased slightly by allowing major sonatas to count as the equivalent of two works. To put things in perspective, however, consider the requirements for pianists competing for prizes at the Conservatoire in the same year, 1931: Advanced piano, men: Chopin - Prelude NO. 13 in F# major Saint-Saens - Toccata Op. 111, NO. 6 (d'apres le Concerto NO. 5) Sightreading - one piece, composed especially for the competition (judged at the eliminatory May examinations) Advanced piano, women: Chopin - Sonata No. 2 in bb minor, Mvts. I and IV Sightreading - as above Reine Gianoli (1917?-1978), the first vvdefectorvl from the Conservatoire piano classes, entered the Ecole Normalevs Licence Concert course in October 1931 and participated in Cortotls monthly class: In the years between the wars Cortot generally taught only those pianists who were, as we say, already vtformed.w The way to be heard by him was through the Ecole Normale cours dlintemretation, which were very important. One had to be fairly advanced to be accepted; not all pupils studying at the school were eligible. The classes Cortot held for the Licence candidates were an exception to the norm in many ways. Cortot discontinued them only a few years after I graduated. I was fortunate to be there at the right time. We met as a group and listened to each others' lessons, and each of us had a rather long session with Cortot. In the public master classes Cortot dealt almost exclusively with mature pianists, many of whom had been trained to his way of thinking by his associates. He didn't concern himself with the "nuts and boltsw of piano playing. He said: I1This should be more palpitating, more intense, warmer...g1 and they reacted immediately to this sort of suggestion. In the Licence classes, on the other hand, he had to teach all sorts of pupils (ntimporte mi), pianists of very diverse backgrounds and levels of accomplishment. There were even a few ignoramuses (inconscients) who had only the vaguest notion of what they were about.... Try as he might to rise above technical matters, if the students didn't know how to play the piano well.... Suffice it to say that Cortot didn't find that very enjoyable! For the Licence classes, as well as in the main cours d'intemretation, Cortot made the students prepare analytical reports--lgnotices,n as they were termed--on the pieces they were going to performe52 What he expected above all was an imaginative and interpretive commentary. Some arrived with harmonic analyses, formal analyses .... He asked for a little of that in order to ascertain whether students had the requisite knowledge of music. But what he wanted above all... were insights into the poetic context, the character, the meaning the work had for one's personal imagination and sensibility. For Cortot there was always a deep correspondance between music, and the universe, and the human soul and... the inexpressible. In my lessons with Cortot, he came up with countless poetic images to describe the music, much like those in his editions. All those words, I must confess,. .. didn't help me a great deal. But then there were his illustrations at the piano. And somehow the whole created... an atmosphere that little by little permeated me, to the point where people began discovering a kernel of Cortot's playing in mine.... It developed over time-- and not because he told me "You have to play this passage in such and such a way,'' or "you should take this tempo here." He wanted pupils to have ideas of their own, and as long as they were convincing, he didn't like to dictate how to interpret a work and didn't press them to imitate. It was rather because he surrounded one with a kind of magical ambience that sprang above all from his insistence on the musical expression, which could never be ardent enough, thrilling ( f remissant) enough, pulsating (palpitante) enough to suit him. Cortot always found [students' playing] a little lifeless--it wasn't, of course, but compared to his delivery ... ! Afterwards he would sit down at the piano--those moments... are emblazoned on my memory---and what came out of the instrument was extraordinary. The records don't quite capture the quality of his sonority. You can hear the ample vibration of the tone in melodies, ... but the quality of the touch, the lqvoicen or rather the ~fvoices,w the way his hands danced instead of just moving like other pianists', the left hand which uttered so many things ... that one doesn't hear in the interpretations of other artists, the incredible charm (in the sense of a magical spell) that his playing radiated--something of all this is lost.. . . It is curious: when I was young, I gravitated--by affinity of feeling, character--more toward the other great artist teacher with whom I studied, Edwin Fischer. Fischer was kindness personified, ... the bon maitre who invited you to his home, who lavished affection on you. Later, I came to realize little by little that from the musical standpoint it was Cortot who had exerted the greater influence, and who had indelibly marked my playing.53 Cortot's Major ~idactic Writinqs: The Commented Editions and the Princi~es Rationnels. Just after the Ecole Normale instituted the pedagogy courses in 1926, Cortot published his edition of Chopin's 24 Preludes, probably the most famous and popular of his editions de travail. The volume opens with a brief historical study by - Laurent Ceillier,54 written for the program of Cortot's 1924 interpretation courses. The musical text of each prelude is preceded by a page or two of commentary containing exercises similar to those Cortot designed for the Etudes and a poetic explication of the character of the prelude.55 Editions with exegetical commentary or performance advice have been around a long time, but they did not really proliferate until the Romantic era. Even in the latter ninteenth century they were produced and consumed mainly by musicians steeped in the Austro-Germanic musical tradition, though a few (notably, von Biilowls annotated edition of the Beethoven Sonatas) were in wide usage in France in Cortotls youth. Commented editions, and literary interpretations of music of the type popularized by Liszt and his disciples, not only confirm the extent to which it was taken for granted that a work had a poetic (extra-musical) content, tacit or explicit. They also reflect the realization, on the part of interpreters or music writers, that the broad mass of practitioners were not very cultured and musically literate, and they needed to have the music rendered more accessible. I The first efforts by French pianists to produce didactic editions containing performance and practice suggestions date from just before World War I. In 1909 there appeared Les Lecons ecrites & Raoul Puano: Chopin (Paris: Librarie des Annales, 1909), which contained a selection of popular works by Chopin annotated with very practical advice on interpretation. 56 This was followed shortly by Les lecons ecrites & Raoul Pucmo: Schumann (1911) and Les lecons ecrites de Raoul Pusno: Chopin, Les Ouatorze Valses (1912). The format - of Pugnovs "written lessonsv1 was apparently a commercial success: a year after his first volume was published, Isidor Philipp came out with Quatre-vinsts problemes techniaues g& leur solutions: Lecons ecrites (Paris: Heugel, 1910), which I offered preparatory exercises and practice suggestions for I ! mastering thorny passages from works by Beethoven, Chopin, I I Schumann, Mendelssohn, Weber, etc. Most of Pugno1s commentary I can best be described as performance tips; he includes no exercises and little advice on how to practice.57 Philipp, on the other hand, is intent on fostering a systematic, purposeful approach to technical difficulties through greater concentration, thought and variety of practice methods. He 1 hardly touches on stylistic and interpretive questions. Cortotvs editions, although short on specific physiological advice, at least represent a serious effort to I relate work on the technical obstacles to musical and poetic ends. Cortot, like Pugno, communicates details of his own interpretation (e.g., specifying an appropriate sonority or balance between voices, proposing a tempo, phrasing, dynamic nuance, pedalling, fingering or a redistibution of notes between the hands), and calls attention to common errors and miscalculations. But Cortot's remarks are as a rule much more exegetical in character than Pugno's. Cortot is always bent on proposing an aesthetic image of the whole work that sparks the imagination and gives a vivid idea of what one is working towards, so that the student never practices in a void. When he makes a specific interpretive suggestion, he alludes to the musical/expressive rationale behind it in the same breath-. which Pugno does not: To find a precedent for Cortot's endeavors to correlate performance aims to a work's poetic essence (content, character/spirit), one has to go back to the editions and writings of Busoni, dlAlbert and von Bulow which appeared around 1880-1900.~~ Von Bulow sought to shed light on Beethoven's spiritual world and thinking processes in his edition of the piano sonatas, the annotations to which are full of references to the philosophical and poetic significance of the music. lfUnfortunately,~~ notes Brendel, "his intellectual method was not equal to his purpose.... 11 59 When von Bulow turned from Beethoven's music, he undoubtedly had a special affinity, to Chopin's, for which abandoned even the semblance of critical reasoning and indulged in extravagant poeticizing. Here is his "explication" of Chopin's Prelude No. 9 in E major, which h;e subtitled 'lVision'l: [In the Ninth Prelude,] chopin has the conviction that he has lost his power of expression. With the determination to discover whether his brain can still originate ideas, he strikes his head with a hammer (here, the sixteenths and thirty-seconds are to be carried out in exact time, indicating a double stroke of the hammer [mm.2-3, l.h.1). In the third and fourth measures one can hear the blood trickle (trills in the left hand). He is desperate at finding no inspiration (fifth measure); he strikes again with the hammer and with greater force (thirty-second notes twice in succession during the crescendo). In the key of A flat [m.8] he finds his powers again. Appeased, he seeks his former key and closes contentedly.60 Compared to von Biilow's Kafkaesque program, Cortotls commentary on the same Prelude, which he entitled lfVoix prophetiquesI1 ("Prophetic Voicest1), sounds logical and almost ob j ective : These are voices of bronze, prophetic and solemn, whose rhythm dominates the powerful harmonies of this - Prelude. They should be set apart from the supportive tonal fabric by the tragic nobility of their timbre: strong without being brutal, weighty without becoming heavy. This is the crux of the technical problem facing the interpreter, a problem that is all the more imposing considering that the right hand must meet these tonal requirements using almost exclusively its weakest fingers, the fourth and fifth, to declaim the most important line. We've already discussed this way of playing (see the notes on Op. 10, No. 3 in the study edition of Chopin's Etudes), but in that context it was a matter of the weak fingers playing espressivo cantabile, rather than projecting the imperious character [called for in this Prelude] .... [Cortot reviews the conditions for polyphonic voicing in one hand]. Here the difficulty is compounded by the fact that the accompaniment itself must be full and sonorous, even in passages marked piano. [Here follow exercises for firming up the weak fingers, taking care to articulate each as a single unit; then Cortot gives five preparatory variants constructed on parts of the texture].... Differentiate very precisely the rhythms or n , either when opposed to each other in the two hands, or when both voices adopt the latter in unison, injecting the majestic chacter of this Prelude with a touch of the heroic. 61 Throughout Cortotts commentary the pupil is constantly being reminded of the musical imperatives--character, structure--that dictate his work on sonority, tonal balance, touch and rhythmic incisiveness. It might be argued by critics of poetic imagery that much of the value of Cortotts counsel depends on whether one accepts his definition of the character of the work. Since he does not go into the reasons which led him to deduce that the music evokes "bronze voicesvt (in his master classes he recommended giving the melodies the timbre of trombones) and is vtprophetic, "solemn, "tragic, It etc. , his description is not likely to convince skeptics who consider music a vwself-contained... language characterized by abstract motion, events and dynamic processes,~~~ i.e., incapable of expressing extrinsic ideas and feelings. Two points should be made in answer to this argument. First, Cortotms characterization is in reality neither fanciful nor arbitrary, but sprhgs rather from a deep familiarity with traditional expressive semes63 and associations. Second, Cortot was not out to prove the of his interpretation, but simply to keep the pupil focussed on the essential--the meaning or message of the music--at the time when he is most likely to become preoccupied with the mechanics execution. the most important dimensions Cortotls teachingff1 noted Pierre Petit, was this aspect which obliged the pupil to study compositions from within, i.e., in a profoundly musical manner and never from the external aspect (a llexterieur). It was with this objective in mind that he required all the performers in his interpretation courses to write stylistic/poetic analyses of the works they were going to play. He compelled them to reflect on the music. (I was only twelve when I wrote my first, on one of Mendelssohnls Songs Without Words.) He didn't want a traditional, dry analysis: that dismayed him. That the first theme returned here, or there... he didn't care a whit to hear. What interested him was the feeling that emanated from the work, the affective side. Evidently, today we have a tendency to look at music much more from a strictly technical perspective, to consider how it is constructed. But Cortot insisted on its emotional content.... To his credit, he forced students to... think about what the music meant to them personally. Granted, he was occasionally led to exaggerate when he attached subtitles to pieces, when he drew certain analogies. But in the main he was not wrong, because his approach enables the pupil to invest the music with a definite character, to have clear ideas rather than practicing aimlessly. 64 Not all of Cortotls commentaries are as well-crafted and to the point as those he penned for certain of the Preludes. In his later editions, those of the 1940s in particular, he is often long-winded and needlessly complicated in his manner of expre~sion.~~ But as David Barnett points out, even "if in some instances-the mixture is very rich and the adjectives and nouns seem to overflow the sentences, that very profusion, when they are well chosen, will stimulate the performer to search more deeply for the appropriate sonority and for exactly the right adjustment of tempo .... [Under] the influence of relevant, evocative words [he] will achieve sreater selectivity within the ranges of the tolerance. v166 To Cortot's way of thinking, a professor who does not try to explain the musical and expressive rationales behind his performance advice to the pupil is simply derelict in his responsibilities. Addressing the teachers attending his master classes, he asked: Is contemporary music instruction doing all it can to get to the very heart of the art it claims to elucidate? To discover the composer's hidden sources of inspiration? Doesn't it focus too much on developing pianistic facility per se, at the expense of opening the pupil to an understanding of feelings? Externally correct playing ... is nothing, if it doesn't serve to communicate the controlling idea (princi~e senerateur) behind the artwork. Ours is an art whose roots reach down into the very depths of our hearts ..., and yet we scarcely dare to urge pupils to look into the abysses it reveals in the human soul. All too frequently, out of some inexplicable modesty if not out of negligence, we are content to say: ''Play louder, play softer, pay attention to this fingering; don't forget this accent, it's e~sential.'~ Essential...to what? As a result, there where the music is crying the composer's despair, pouring out the torment of his passionate love, confiding his resignation or his hope, we end up too often giving our pupils nothing to think about except some dull cliches....67 With all the fervor of an evangelist, Cortot explained to the prospective teachers in the Ecole Normale pedagogy classes why he believed it was imperative to Ittry to form not additional pianists, but more real musicians: What is a musician? Has any one of you given serious thought to the reasons why you were drawn to music? Or to what the social role not only of the music teacher but of the musician... is, in life?.... To commit yourself to a profession that is as difficult and competitive as ours, you'd better have awfully strong reasons... for preferring it above all others.... I consider... the profession of musician to be the noblest of all. Its only equals, it seems to me, are the exercise of a high calling by a good priest or the revelation of human wisdom by a great philosopher. Music is a bond between human beings. A bond, also, between nations. A part of the musician's role is to foster an intimate understanding of the most obscure impulses of peoples of all nationalities; this is the true path towards a higher brotherhood.... When we have * succeeded in discerning what is most distinctive in the soul of a nation, in its poetic responses, its striving for beauty, its feelings of enthusiasm or sorrow, and when we communicate that to others, we awaken and liberate in our listeners that which is most noble in them, and we ourselves are enriched and take a step forward in our personal development. 0.. m................................................. Through music we liberate human consciousness.... We release, in the imagination or in the memory of those who hear us, that which makes humanity worthy of itself. When you listen to a musical work, what is involved is not only its appeal to your ears but also the revelation of your innermost being .... Our duty, therefore, is to develop the possibilities of drawing from ourselves these sensations, of refining our antennas, of sensitizing everything which allows us to transmit a feeling of beauty into the souls of others. And not what is termed disinterested beauty, but a beauty which is beneficial, almost in the medical sense.... We no longer have in daily life so many reasons to be moved, exalted, impassioned, that we can afford to disdain one of the rare elements of emotion remaining at mankind's service. ..mm.....m.m.m.e...........m.~~~m~~~~~~~~m~~mm~~~~~~~~~ When you envisage a sublime, splendid career like ours that is worth every sacrifice, every gift of oneself, ... get it into your head now and forever that it must not be a question for you of being either virtuosi or professors. It's a matter of passing on the torch, of contributing to the perpetuation of one of the rare phenomena which can make humanity better, give it higher aspirations, reveal man to himself.68 Reading this, one cannot help but perceive how far our world view has shifted from that which fired the minds of artists of Cortot's era. How many musicians today look upon their art not only as a personal l~religionvt (Cortot's term), but likewise as mankind's hope of salvation from his own worst instincts? - '2 4. C m 'Q) o m a - rl c, k E: aa 9 td 3 a, -aw rl m T3Q)td-V h c,C CGc,td -1 Q)trmI=-4 Q) GO fdc,UQ) c, 4 gE=Q)tdw C a-ri rl 0-dc,G a0 um 2 mmo -o CCo8 5 fdC -ask 3CQ)m-rlQ OnQ) mQ)D -4 w c, m CGom a+, Pc33& w Q) Q)Q)c,O-P3C ax Ec,Oc, - rl am0 k 1-4 Q) 3Q)M-rl a Q) 3tdGG30td C u rlms-rlo~m a) - -n4 G 3 +J c ~m-n wutd Q)C ma a Q) Q) CtdVItr 3a Q)Q)UJQ) 9 a +EL-1~ -am +,a auah c - a-1~13~) am soctd ?L -4 \?iarl+, 4 d C ofi w c, td k PcO a U UPc o *a, =rl1ufi-rl c UIC ~aa, aQ)trGCPtG - ~)(d -rl~)mm Q) E:tPmi,3 Mud' k -+J C -4 td Q) -n U -4 s 4& BE& tnPt~~-rlac,a c,~) ma-1~) c, -rnkc,~~fitd~ ad td *Q,fdtd-rlU004E(d kO C -4 pL3 Q) "^ 3wGda8::m $5: -1 Ca C -a 9 G~ohag. *a, A-,+&c, GS*O d o cu a,& ua u ~dtdc, an-ria 0 -4 U td U a+, Q)CtrC c, CC 3k c,tdC3 -4 -n tr C 9 mkCam*$ Up, amom C "52UB-C> h-dtd-A -4 rl o - a-rl m-rl 0-04 ~a I=G@WQ)mUCUE- mGtrk a =rli,td I~Q)Q)OOG aau Q)M k td-d mcd C, +r*d+, m cu -Q 0 0 ~~UIC+,OUI(~O~C~~O~UI~ U c, tdtdCCQ)=rlPtL:O CCtPtdc, u -a Q) aakk-dm td~ u td km U)kQ)3 Q) mka) -1 -C= rl - &ik$ a add -4J m C ad+) m m 3 kW4 U *C Ul Q) tP4 O UIrd-n b C-4 3 OW I C U 3 04J I= 3-4 0 C C % *rl OGG-40-rlUO kX4O k ktdO m oo ham uaaVa u uwwa~ uc u Q) a fingers, tremolos, broken chords in double notes, repeated chords with and without change of fingers; staccato and legato octaves, both regular and broken, in conjunct and disjunct patterns) Within each of the five chapters there are three subheadings (Series A, B, and C). Each series is to be practiced twelve consecutive days, one day being reserved for each major key and its parallel minor. Thus, all the exercises in Series A of Chapter I should be practiced in C major and c minor on the first day, in c#/$ major and c# minor the second day, and so on chromatically through the keys. If one follows his advice conscientiously and neither shirks the transpositions nor skips around in various chapters, it takes thirty-six days to complete a chapter, or about half a year to go once through the book. Preceding the main body of the text there is a preliminary chapter ("Gymnastique Quotidienne du Claviert1) containing nine warm-up exercises designed to foster the flexibility of the fingers, hand, wrist and forearm, the better to prepare the apparatus for proper muscular conditioning and reflex control. In the "Repertoire" section at the end of the book, Cortot lists a great many pieces which he believes should be learned by anyone wishing to become a professional pianist. He indicates for each the most relevant chapters of exercises and the grade of difficulty posed by the piece in that technical area (not very difficult, rather difficult, difficult, very difficult). At the end of each chapter, Cortot includes two pages of lined music paper on which the student can write additional exercises, whether recommended by his professor or of his own devising. In the Princi~es rationnels, Cortot synthesized much of the best from a whole line of traditional exercise methods, while at the same time adding new elements and emphases of his own. He managed, moreover, to squeeze the whole into about a hundred verv dense pages. The density arises mainly from the fact that he does not fill page after page with written-out transpositions of exercises or fixed sequential patterns within exercises. Instead, he gives the original form of the exercise--complete if it is ~lthrough-composed,~l the first two or three units if it is sequential--only, and supplies a I1Transposing Table" with the book that illustrates chromatic, harmonic,72 rhythmic and fingering variants of all sorts. A simple letter key (H for harmonic, C for chromatic, etc.) informs the student at the head of the exercise which type of variant@) can be applied. A number of exercises are designated specifically Itfor hands with long fingers" or "for hands with short fingers," notably those involving held notes and/or extensions. As the reader will hardly fail to have realized, the Princi~es rationnels is systematized to the ultimate degree. In some ways it might be considered more systematic than rational. Rattalino, for instance, complains that: the principle of daily repetition of exercises in a progression by half step is not implemented in a rational, but in a geometric manner.... It is hard to see rationally why the exercises on five notes should be practiced in the keys of G, ~b and A, which in terms of the positioning of the piano keys are identical to the keys of C, d) and D. After twelve days of transposing, the pupil has really practiced not twelve different positions, but six positions once each and three positions twice. Hardly a rational principle.73 Rattalino could have found a better example of irrational thinking on Cortotls part. While strictly speaking there is a certain redundancy in practicing all positions, the real purpose of this genre of five-finger exercise is to foster control, ease and fluency with common patterns in all keys, not just familiarity with the various keyboard groupings of black/white notes. Even from the latter standpoint, there are subtle differences between seemingly identical positions that arise from the proximity of the fingers to different configurations of adjacent, non-played keys, not to mention the difference to the ear and to the eye. The real question with Cortotls five-finger exercises is not whether some transpositions involve similar keyboard positions, but rather whether the basic patterns presented are relevant to the standard literature. Certainly many of the measure-long patterns in his exercises are common enough figures to merit practice in all keys. Cortotls transposition principle, judiciously applied, can be productive. But several other principles advanced by him strike this author as impractical, if not irrational. For instance, in his introductory remarks ("Plan of Study ...I1), he writes: During this first [six monthsv] period of study, one must absolutely refrain from practicing the chapters out of sequence or skipping over any chapter to reach later ones, all modification of the established order being in radical opposition to the essential objective of this work, which is the complete assimilation of each difficulty taken in isolation. 74 Now it is obvious from the moment one opens the Princi~es rationnels that it is a book for pianists of intermediate to advanced levels. It does not even include the most basic elements of technique, such as fingerings for ordinary scales in octaves (major and three forms of minor) or exercises on simple blocked and broken chords with their inversions. The pianists who could reasonably be expected to take up Cortotfs book are playing literature and etudes that simultaneously pose technical challenges covered in two, three, perhaps all of the chapters. Is it reasonable of him to insist that the performer who is studying the exercises in Chapter I1 not touch for four more months the exercises in Chapters IV and V which might help him with his Beethoven sonata and Chopin etudes scheduled for performance in recital three months hence? This is not to imply that it would not be better in general to study the chapters and their individual subsections in the order given, both for the sake of thoroughness and because mastery of the skills treated in the earlier chapters considerably facilitates assimilation of those presented in later ones. There must be some latitude for choice, however, if only because the student who sees tangible results from work on some section will be more motivated to persevere to the end of what is, after all, a long and arduous project. In this same vein of practicality, Cortot sometimes gets carried away with the ideal of completeness and falls into contradictions. For instance, most of the time he advocates some lateral shifting of the am when passing the thumb under (as opposed to the older practice of twisting the thumb hard under the palm to prepare the new position), since this allows the hand to trace a smoother, more streamlined path up and down the keyboard. Yet the first exercise he gives in Chapter I1 requires a contortionist's thumb shifts, which are to be executed "with the hand immobilet1 (my emphasis), holding one finger down. Example 19. Cortot, Princi~es rationnels, Ch.11, Serie A, Exercises No. la and lc @ = suitable for transposition by chromatic half steps Is there anyone who can perform Exercise la or lc without displacing the hand? Even were this possible, is there any place in the literature where it would be essential to pass the thumb over such distances with a static hand? Here the degree 495 of abstraction and difficulty perhaps exceeds the limits of the reasonable, unless one is practicing Cortotls exercises in a spirit of pure research .em to see how far a pianist's thumb can reach if it is stretched to the maximum). In fairness to Cortot, most of the exercises in the Princi~es rationnels have obvious applications in the standard repertoire. Some, however (e.g., Chapter II/A Nos. 3b and 4 for thumb passage and II/C for thumb passage in composite patterns; IV/B No. 1, the portion for scales in chromatic double seconds and sevenths; Iv/C No. 1 for extensions with fingerings that shift the thumb passage to improbable points in the pattern), impose a strain on the pupills muscles and patience that is disproportionate to their practical utility-- the more so if he is obliged to practice them in all the chromatic and harmonic variants. Other exercises are extremely difficult, and for the rare occasions when something similar might be encountered in a piece, it would seem wiser to attack the problem directly in the musical context: Example 20. Cortot, Princi~es rationnels, Chapter 111, Serie C, Exercises Nos. 3d and 5b, excerpts. No. 3 a These are minor flaws, for the most part, and they do not detract from the real value of the work as a whole. The Princi~es rationnels remains one of the best and most