On So-Called “Suppression of Personality” in Teaching and Why One Should Work According to a Specific Model

Personality is documented through the possession of various characteristics. These are common to many people, though obviously they appear in different combinations that make each individual unique.

Attaining one’s own personality— “that ultimate goal that every pedagogy can set for itself” —can only be achieved on the basis of mechanical and intellectual independence.

Until we are capable of faithfully copying a good model, we are not sovereign masters in the realm of presentation. This recognition places an obligation on the teacher to demand of those entrusted to their training that they be capable of imitating any desired nuance of presentation without further ado. This eliminates what is accidental and promotes what is deliberate.

The old master Menzel^[1] made this wonderful remark to a young painter whose talent and achievements he was supposed to evaluate: “You have all the makings of becoming a capable artist, but everything that is most beautiful about you is accidental. When chance has brought you something good, you must know how to eliminate it and then bring it back through work and diligence to the point you had reached through chance.”

The same applies to reproducing a musical work. How often do chance occurrences or mechanical imperfections dictate the presentation! Rarely does the performer show enough intelligence to recognize these imperfections as an expression of their personality without acknowledging to what degree these lapses impair their performance. Only when they are required to perform this or that piece according to their teacher’s model with musical refinement do they recognize their inadequacy.

But how should it be possible to educate the student—to whom the gods have rarely granted such insights and abilities as a fully-formed gift—differently than through example? Only through the demand for imitation can they be trained. Through this they learn to apply all the expressive means that are indispensable for an exhaustive presentation. Through this they learn to master and distinguish between the various stylistic approaches.

In short, imitation involves the intellectual and mechanical training that can and should lead him to later freedom. But how could winning one’s own personality be promoted by skipping over all the smaller or larger mistakes and ugliness! However, the total sum of such inadequacies and evasions is very often falsely declared to be individuality! Of course, the performance of a talented person will interest me more, despite the flaws that cling to them, than that of an untalented person who plays only correctly. But does this circumstance give the pedagogue a reason to offer the talented person the blessings of an enlightening education? Should the obligation toward objectivity and concern for the less gifted not exist? Can a performance satisfy or even lay claim to significance that is not even once correct?

The unfortunately widespread, thoroughly false view that a developing talent could lose its individuality if it were held to strict objectivity, to conscientious respect for artistic axioms and equivalent principles, cannot be countered decisively enough. It is precisely through copying that the maturing student acquires his education, expands his horizon, and increases his expressive capacity. Should it not be not only the right but precisely the duty of the teacher to let their pupil follow this path?

If so-called “personality” were really suppressed through the acquired ability to copy, then it would have stood on quite weak feet, and the world would lose nothing precious in it!

But isn’t it also carefully observed at the academies of visual arts that young aspiring artists must first learn to see and draw correctly before they may handle paint or marble! Should complete arbitrariness rule only in reproductive music?

What pedagogue would not joyfully greet the distinctive traits he discovers in his student! But individuality and lack of culture are two entirely different things for the educated person! The ability to imitate has never prevented the truly individual—that is, the strong—talent from reflecting their personality in their performances and making it heard.^[2]

The student stands there, so young, still a scholar, not yet having the right to decide which path they should take quickly and surely to reach their goal, for they still lacks clear judgment. I said “lead,” because it should be guidance and not enslavement.^[3] One should not forget that the interpretation of a piece of music chosen by an outstanding master is not only the reflection of our talent, but must be considered as a manifestation of an overview based on knowledge and understanding.

The sum of these characteristics allows them to recognize the degree of their cultivations, and enables them to make the best possible choice among the various possibilities of interpretation and temperament. Selection is choice!

Is it really about suppressing personality when one requires the student to adopt the result of this choice—well-considered, for the purpose of his education? Once they has reached maturity, they may seek their own paths. The training that has been imparted to them can only make it easier to find them—provided they possesses their own nature…. Without doubt, however, they will escape the great danger of regarding notorious errors as inspired insights, as unfortunately happens so often. The true pedagogue will always joyfully listen to the “organic growth” of their protégé…

And what about the less gifted student? Is it not better for them to learn to create something correct by following a good artistic model, rather than groping in the murky fog of self-serving inadequacy for the expression of supposed “personality”? Not everyone is a good storyteller, for “the privilege of interesting subjectivity is granted by nature to only a few.”^[4] Many feel called, but few are chosen!