Conclusion
All divine things move with light steps.
Though the realms of mechanics and aesthetics may seem fundamentally different—our discussions having treated them as separate domains—it is precisely their mutual interaction and synthesis that enables true artistic creation.
The instrument itself operates according to certain mechanical principles, but musical performance must also rest on solid foundations. It follows specific rules that free us from arbitrariness and whim, while holding us accountable to the demands of both art and craft. The artist’s responsibility lies in selecting the most effective means available through the instrument’s natural properties, guided by the spirit of the musical work and suited to its structure. Cultivated musical taste, refined through education, becomes our reliable compass through the wilderness of mere caprice. Naturally, the boundaries of the student’s gifts will determine the ultimate goals of artistic training. The teacher’s role is to help balance this fundamental duality between musical understanding and technical mastery.
While our aesthetic investigations have focused primarily on matters of tone production and musical presentation—those elements that reach the ear—we must not overlook how the visual aspect of performance also deserves aesthetic consideration. The Greeks understood that true beauty encompasses both what they considered beautiful and what they considered virtuous—a unified concept. If we demand excellence in both acoustic and visual dimensions, shouldn’t we cultivate an artistic approach whose virtues are both heard and seen? We have established that ideal tone production requires purposeful movement. Why shouldn’t this same purposeful, natural flow of motion also please the eye? We readily speak of functional beauty in technological achievements—the sleek lines of a ship’s hull or the elegant span of a bridge can provide genuine aesthetic pleasure. When we observe human activity in sports, dance, and games, movement clearly becomes more beautiful as it becomes more purposeful and organic.
The same principle must apply to the instrumentalist’s movements. Both the acoustic effect and the visual impression of performance become more compelling when every gesture serves a clear purpose.
In this sense, one might say that what sounds good also looks good.
However, it indicates poor cultivation when a performer, seeking to make an impression on the audience, adopts mannerisms from a field foreign to his art. The opera singer’s theatrical gestures may be appropriate in moderation, and even the song recitalist may use mimicry and gesture to clarify a song’s emotional content. But for the instrumentalist, any performance that merely reminds the audience of theatrical display is misguided. The public may laugh at what some call the “virtuoso” style—the popular way of suggesting difficulty in passages through unnecessary or exaggerated gestures—while proof of genuine virtuosic ability is achieved precisely through the effortless mastery of even the greatest challenges!
It matters greatly how the performer sits and how he holds his instrument. Compared to the standing violinist, the cellist is at a disadvantage in terms of physical freedom of movement. Even the pianist has better conditions. To avoid creating the impression of restricted mobility, the cellist should position himself only on the front part of his chair.
Proper sitting posture requires an upright stance—not a casual lean or an affected forward tilt. Only the constantly busy, often overburdened orchestral musician might be forgiven for trying to relieve himself by leaning against the back of the chair. But this should not become the norm, as sitting upright affects both posture and attitude. Some players stand out unfavorably through their direct, almost impudent manner. Yet aside from the unpleasant sight of cramped or slack posture, such bearing actually harms the player more than one might think. Breathing—that vital intake of oxygen—becomes impaired, which means reduced energy. We have already emphasized elsewhere the importance of energy economy for the performer. The economic principle runs like a red thread through the entire mechanical aspect of this work. Deep breathing also contributes to calming the nerves, and anyone performing in public can easily test this for themselves.
The posture required for virtuosic playing, which we discussed extensively at the beginning of our book, must establish an organic connection between the performer’s body and his instrument. Like horse and rider, instrument and player should form a unity. While the left knee and right shin take over the function of holding the instrument, the body maintains perfect balance up to the shoulder girdle with the least possible tension.
For the smooth flow of movement in both upper extremities, it is crucially important that the player learns to regulate the tension relationships within his own body
In contrast to the static, evenly balanced function of the body up to the shoulders, the movement of both arms involves constant change. The temporarily heightened tension in the muscles of the right arm during a crescendo toward the tip, for example, must not affect the left arm, nor should the exertion of the left hand influence the dynamics of the bow arm. Similarly, tension in any given body section must not spread reflexively to distant parts (the so-called sympathetic tension). Naturally, every muscular action affects the next higher area. Tension in the muscles of the hand affects the forearm, forearm tension affects the upper arm, and this or that movement of the upper arm brings the chest muscles into play. But the degree matters enormously! There is a significant difference between whether a movement takes place under physiologically favorable conditions, or whether the entire arm apparatus—perhaps even other parts of the body—becomes involved in considerable sympathetic tension during any given movement process.
We must learn to prevent excessive tension in every case. When this succeeds, all our movements become light and effortless. However, it is not a coincidence that the player’s outward appearance also makes a natural, graceful impression when he understands how to make proper use of his physical resources.
Once the connections between physiological movement patterns and expressive production become common knowledge among all instrumental musicians, then the teacher’s efforts—to teach the student first the correct use of his physical resources, rather than treating this as a side issue—will no longer be seen as mere drilling!
Remarkably, correcting movement technique can improve playing. One could draw a parallel here to moral education. Just as Kant believed that initially external moral behavior gradually refines a person’s character, one might say that in instrumental teaching, willingly accepted reform of the movement system can have lasting benefits for artistic development.
At a certain point in development, the student usually senses whether he is on the right path. As soon as the impression of artificial, unnatural effects arises, or the student feels threatened by inhibitions, he must always apply critical judgment or tolerate having it applied to him.
Of course, one must understand that mechanical factors alone cannot lead to success. Inner attitude must align with proper external technique. Concentration on the musical content, development of judgment, discrimination between genuine and false, inner composure, ease of movement, phrasing ability, and brief musical personality—these are all factors of at least equal importance. However, the expression of true personality always bears the stamp of authenticity.
The aspiring artist’s behavior before an audience should not be neglected in musical education. The bearing filled with inner confidence—serious, dignified, yet natural and unaffected—demonstrates personal culture and significantly supports the musician’s quest for recognition.
Only when all these elements achieve their full effect does artistic practice reveal what is so extraordinarily rare in the realm of human activity: perfection!
