Historical Harpsichord Technique

Kosovske

Music

•

Yonit Lea Kosovske performs on both modern and historical keyboard instruments as a soloist and chamber artist. She has produced several solo CDs, the most recent of which include La Gracieuse, French chaconnes, passacailles, & preludes (La Douceur, 2010) and Keyboard Music of Girolamo Frescobaldi (Focus, 2010). Kosovske lives in Ireland, where she performs as a freelance artist and teaches at the Irish World Academy of Music and Dance at the University of Limerick.

Front jacket illustration: The author’s harpsichord. Photograph by David Kingsbury. Author photograph by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

HistoricalHTmec.indd 1

Webb Wiggins Oberlin College and Conservatory

INDIANA

University Press

Bloomington & Indianapolis iupress.indiana.edu 1-800-842-6796

Publications of the Early Music Institute Paul Elliott, editor

Historical Harpsichord Technique

“Well-conceived and well-written, Historical Harpsichord Technique offers valuable information for all who have an interest in developing good harpsichord touch.”

Indiana


Developing La douceur du toucher

Yonit Lea Kosovske surveys early music and writing about keyboard performance with the aim of facilitating the development of an expressive tone in the modern player. Reviewing the work of pedagogues and performers of the late Renaissance through the late Baroque, she gives special emphasis to la douceur du toucher or sweetness of touch. Other topics addressed include posture, early pedagogy, exercises, articulation, and fingering patterns. Illustrated with musical examples as well as photos of the author at the keyboard, Historical Harpsichord Technique can be used for individual or group lessons and for amateurs and professionals.

Yonit Lea Kosovske 5/25/11 3:27 PM

Historical Harpsichord Technique •

Publications of the Early Music Institute Paul Elliott, editor

•

Historical Harpsichord Technique• Developing

La douceur du toucher

Yonit Lea Kosovske

Indiana University Press Bloomington & Indianapolis

This book is a publication of Indiana University Press 601 North Morton Street Bloomington, IN 47404-3797 USA iupress.indiana.edu Telephone orders 800-842-6796 Fax orders 812-855-7931 Orders by e-mail [email protected] © 2011 by Yonit L. Kosovske All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The Association of American University Presses’ Resolution on Permissions constitutes the only exception to this prohibition.

American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1992. Manufactured in the United States of America Library of Congress Catalogingin-Publication Data Kosovske, Yonit Lea. Historical harpsichord technique : developing la douceur du toucher / Yonit Lea Kosovske. p. cm. — (Publications of the Early Music Institute) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-253-35647-5 (cloth : alk. paper) 1. Harpsichord—Performance —History. I. Title. ML651.K67 2011 786.4’19309—dc22 2011002091

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of the

1 2 3 4 5 16 15 14 13 12 11

To my teachers and students

Je ne connais de deffaut considérable dans un Maître de Clavecin, que celuy de ne sçavoir pas poser la main de ses Ecoliers, & de leur faire un mauvais usage de leurs doigts. Les mauvais principes, & les fausses regles qu’il peut enseigner, sont des erreurs aisées à corriger quand on vient à les reconnoîter; mais le deffaut de mal employer ses doigts, est celuy de tous qui se repare le plus difficilement quand il est une fois contracté: Il demeure souvent toute la vie comme un obstacle éternel à la perfection du jeu. Or ce deffaut ne nous venant jamais que du Maître qui nous a commencé, il est important d’en choisir un qui sçache l’éviter. I do not know of a greater flaw in a master of harpsichord than that of not knowing how to form the hand of his students, and thereby causing them to use their fingers poorly. The bad principles and false rules that can be taught are easy mistakes to correct when they are recognized, but the fault of using one’s fingers poorly is the most difficult of all to correct once it is learned. It often remains for one’s entire life as a perpetual obstacle to the perfecting of one’s playing. Since this fault comes to us only from our earliest teacher, it is important to choose a teacher who knows how to avoid making it. Michel de Saint-Lambert, Les principes du clavecin (1702), preface

Contents

· Acknowledgments xi

· I ntroduction La douceur du toucher 1

1 Preparing to Play 5

· Beginning Lessons 5 · Selecting an Instrument 6 · Position at the Keyboard 10 · Posture 13 · Relaxation 18 · Arms and Elbows 23 · Wrists 26 · Curvature of the Hands and Fingers 30

2 Touching the Instrument 40

· Warm-up Exercises 40 · Touching the Keys 47 · Gravity 52 · Stroking the Keys 55 · Motion of the Hands and Wrists 62 · Dynamics 64 · Playing Different Keyboard Instruments 66

3 Articulation 70

· What Is Articulation? 70 · “Ordinary Manner” 77

· Legato 80 · Slurs 87 · Arpeggios 90 · Staggered Playing 93 · Grace Notes and Trills 94 · Cantabile 99 · Detached Playing 101 · Silences 104 · Agogic Accents 107 · Timing 108

4 Fingering 111

· Comfort and Context 111 · Strong and Weak Notes 114 · Use of the Thumb 120 · Contraction of the Hand 130 · Artistic Freedom 133

· Conclusion 136

· Appendix: Brief Biographical Notes on People Mentioned in the Text 137 · Notes 149 · Bibliography 185 · Index 197

Acknowledgments

There are several people I wish to thank for helping to make the completion of this book possible: my former professors at the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music—Elisabeth Wright, Dr. David Lasocki, Stanley Ritchie, Nigel North, and Michael McCraw; the editorial staff at Indiana University Press—Jane Behnken, Sarah Wyatt Swanson, Elaine Durham Otto, June Silay, Angela Burton—and Ron Sheriff; my partner, Wolodymyr Smishkewych; and my parents, Howard Kosovske and Barbara Kosovske. I also want to acknowledge the Cook Music Library and Wells Library at Indiana University, in addition to numerous libraries that lent me books through interlibrary loan; The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 2nd ed., and Grove Music Online. All photographs of hands at the keyboard are of my own, photographed by Wolodymyr Smishkewych with a Nikon D200 Digital SLR camera. All musical examples were designed by Dr. Beth Garfinkel using Sibelius notation. The harpsichord in the pictures is my own instrument, built in 1999 by Peter Tkach.

xi

Historical Harpsichord Technique •

Introduction

La douceur du toucher• • In his Klavierschule (1789), Daniel Gottlob Türk remarks, “That a beautiful tone is a requisite for good execution I can presume as an established fact. It is also known from experience that of two players, one is able to produce a far more beautiful tone on the same instrument than the other.”1 He then asks, “What is a beautiful tone?” Early writers did not consider that everyone played so beautifully, nor did they play in the same manner. Marin Mersenne, writing in 1636, describes Jacques Champion de Chambonnières as having a “profound knowledge and a beautiful touch on the harpsichord.”2 Chambonnières, often regarded today as the father of solo French harpsichord music, was a legend by the 1630s because of his touch as well as the excellent quality of his compositions. According to Jean Le Gallois in his Lettre to Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier (1680), Chambonnières had “knowledge and precision” and “a delicacy of the hand that others did not have . . . a way of holding [the hand] and a way of pressing down the fingers on the keys that was unknown to the others.”3 He declares that Chambonnières and Louis Couperin moved listeners in different ways: “Chambonnières touched the heart, while Couperin touched the ear.”4 Similarly, we also read accounts of specific techniques at the harpsichord, as we will explore later. Although there are only a small number of extant firsthand descriptions of Johann Sebastian Bach’s playing, we gain insight from Johann Nikolaus Forkel, who says in his biography of Bach that he played with such economy of muscular effort that the movement of his fingers was barely noticeable.5 From these and other historical writings that I will highlight in more detail, we learn that graceful playing requires an intimate connection with the plucking action on the strings, which, in turn, necessitates overall relaxation. 1

2


In the opening section of his L’art de toucher le clavecin, François Couperin provides a description of the manner in which the harpsichord should be played. He uses the expression “la douceur du toucher,”6 which I translate as “the sweetness of touch.” The seventeenth-century Dictionnaire de L’Académie française gives these translations for douceur: Douceur: The quality of that which is sweet. It is used literally and figuratively in all the meanings of sweet [doux]. . . . The sweetness of sugar. Doux, douce: It is also said of that which makes a pleasant impression on all the other senses, and which has nothing sour, spicy, or disagreeable. . . . sweet perfume, a sweet voice, a sweet harmony, a sweet flute, a sweet murmur, the sweet murmur of the water, a sweet manner of speaking . . . this is sweet to the touch.7

In this sense douceur is not just a sweet manner but also a gentle, delicate, and suave way of playing. Suavity has an air of being polished, refined, highly sophisticated, and in control of one’s art. Given the fact that not all music is of a sweet or gentle character, it is all the more striking that Couperin assigns this gentle, sweet approach to playing in general. In my opinion, this represents the truest definition of grace as it relates to music—regardless of how difficult (or loud and boisterous) a piece is, the technique involved must still be one that is performed gracefully, without appearing stressed, tense, or challenged by the difficulty at hand. In the following chapters I present excerpted literature that deals specifically with early keyboard techniques of the period 1565–1800 that will help both performers and pedagogues of the harpsichord play beautifully by way of a douceur du toucher. This book will illustrate what many early writings teach us about this art of gentle and seemingly effortless playing—the core of what constitutes good harpsichord technique. I encompass not only the ways in which early methods discuss how players hold and move their fingers, hands, and wrists, but also how they hold and move their arms, torso, head, and feet. A challenge in pursuing this research results from the fact that so many of the Baroque (and early Classical) treatises pertaining to keyboard playing do not limit their expertise to the harpsichord. Apart from the Frenchmen François Couperin, Jean Denis, Jean-Philippe Rameau, and Michel de SaintLambert, many authors wrote more about playing other keyboard instruments—for example, Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers and Girolamo Diruta, both church organists, and Tomás de Sancta Maria, a priest who played organ and

Introduction

3

clavichord. Rameau, who was primarily a harpsichordist, states: “The position of the hand, which concerns mostly the clavesin [harpsichord], is no different for the organ.”8 Türk regards the clavichord as the “true Klavier” but says his treatise is for all keyboard instruments, especially “the organ, the harpsichord, and the pianoforte.”9 Late eighteenth-century method books published as the fortepiano was gaining popularity often include multiple keyboard names in their titles. In some cases, it seems clear that the word clavier (also spelled Klavier) itself embraces all keyboards, whereas in others it refers to keyboard instruments other than the piano. August Eberhard Müller revised Georg Simon Löhlein’s Clavierschule (1765) as Klavier- und Fortepiano-Schule (1804). Müller also wrote Kleines Elementarbuch for “das Klavier oder Pianoforte” (1815). Some instruction manuals state that their lessons are meant for both harpsichord and/or piano, even well into the early nineteenth century. As late as 1790, Robert Broderip wrote Plain and Easy Instructions for Young Performers on the Pianoforte or Harpsichord, and John Ross wrote A Complete Book of Instructions for Beginners on the Harpsichord or Fortepiano (1795). We can deduce from such titles that many aspects of playing are equally applicable to all keyboard instruments. At the same time, we cannot ignore that other aspects do vary considerably, the most obvious of them being finger weight as it pertains to the different mechanics of a harpsichord and a piano: a plucked action vs. a hammered one; or in the case of clavichord, where there is a tangent hitting the string, the ability to manipulate intonation, produce dynamics, and create vibrato. And of course the harpsichord contrasts with the organ, which produces sound by air traveling through pipes of varying lengths. Here I have tried to select material specifically for the development of harpsichord technique. My research is based on both primary and secondary sources: treatises, letters, interviews, journal articles, musical examples, and one iconographical image. I also draw upon my own experience as a professional keyboardist and teacher of modern and historical keyboards: harpsichord, fortepiano, modern piano, and chamber organ. This book is divided into four chapters, each consisting of several smaller sections. Chapter 1 examines preliminary aspects of touching the harpsichord, focusing on necessary preparations before one begins to delve into the repertory. These embrace various positions at the keyboard, starting with the body and moving through the arms, elbows, and wrists to the hands and fingers. Chapter 2 deals with different ways of touching the keys. It begins with a

4


discussion of warm-up exercises. Chapter 3 discusses various types of articulation. Chapter 4 focuses on issues related to fingering. All translations are my own unless otherwise noted. Where I furnish my own translations, I include the quoted material in its original language in the endnotes. I hope to have provided the reader with historical tools that are helpful in developing a personalized method of playing that will enhance the ability to play beautifully upon the harpsichord. In addition to musical examples, I incorporate photographs of my hands that portray some of the different techniques mentioned. By surveying and commenting on these early methods, I do not intend to suggest that there is any one absolute way of playing. On the contrary, I hope that the variety of methodologies included in these pages will contribute to the individual sense of style of every performer and teacher, so that he or she may explore the endless beauty of sounds at the harpsichord. One achieves a beautiful tone by way of a sweet and delicate touch: la douceur du toucher.

1 Preparing to Play• • Beginning Lessons Although the majority of keyboardists today begin their studies on the piano and later specialize in organ, harpsichord, or clavichord, there is a growing population of students who choose harpsichord from the start. We read from at least three early sources that the best time to begin is before the age of ten. François Couperin recommends: “The appropriate age for children to begin is six or seven years, not that that must exclude people who are older; but, naturally, to mold and form the hands in the practice of the harpsichord, the sooner the better.”1 In Principes du clavecin (1756), Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg suggests a similar starting age, but adds that those who begin lessons at a later age may also succeed: The earlier one begins to play a keyboard instrument, the more certain one will be of making progress: although experience sometimes shows that many feeble persons who start late can become adept, whereas others who have started early in childhood have remained behind. However, one cannot always guarantee the success of the student before the age of six or seven.2

Michel de Saint-Lambert also advises an early start in his treatise Les principes du clavecin (1702). He differs from Marpurg, however, in that he lacks confidence in late learners finding success at the harpsichord: With regard to the formation of the hand, there is no individual who cannot develop it if one begins to train early. This formation is nothing more than a great suppleness of the tendons that allows the fingers the freedom to move 5

6

Historical Harpsichord Technique subtly, childhood being the most appropriate time to acquire it. It is a wellknown fact that those who begin in their youth become skillful, and those who begin late do not succeed. One cannot say exactly at what age it is too late to begin, since the formation varies from person to person. . . . But the best time for both to start is in childhood: that is to say, before ten, and even from five or six.3

Fr. Pablo Nassarre takes into consideration the negative effect of menial labor upon the hands. We read from his Esquela música, según la prática moderna (1723): It also occurs in some instances that at a young age, students’ tendons are not as flexible. The students are occupied in menial labor, which makes the tendons hard and inflexible, and for this reason it is very important that those who are to be engaged in this discipline do not occupy themselves in other disciplines which might make their hands calloused and impede the mobility of their fingers, because anything that involves hard or heavy objects, or touching impure or excessively cold or hot waters, [can] inflict the humors upon the extremities, and this impedes the docility of the tendons.4

Jean-Philippe Rameau is one of the few writers to mention an appropriate time to begin the study of continuo, the reading and playing from a figured bass line: One can not proceed effectively in beginning figured bass very young . . . with the rules and numbers in current use it would be from ten or fifteen years of age in order to succeed a little passably. But now that six months can suffice for it when one reads music and can play easily on the harpsichord . . . wait only until the smallness of the hands no longer hinders more rapid progress.5

Selecting an Instrument Having daily access to a good harpsichord is of extreme importance when learning to play the instrument. There is no single, perfect instrument out there that will suit all the needs of anyone, no matter what the playing level. The types and stylistic features of a harpsichord differ greatly, depending on many variables. This applies to both original, historic instruments and modern replicas. Not only does every builder have his or her own style of constructing, but each instrument within any particular shop may feel and sound different from a sister instrument built within the same year. In an

Preparing to Play

7

ideal world, each harpsichordist who is serious about playing would own multiple instruments, one for every style of musical repertory available to us: an early Italian for Girolamo Frescobaldi, a later Italian for Domenico Scarlatti, spinets and virginals for the various virginal pieces, early and later French or Flemish single and double manuals, German keyboards, and so on. The wish list is endless. The majority of players feel fortunate to bring home just one harpsichord, whether it is rented, bought, or borrowed. Harpsichordists in such a position often want a “multipurpose” instrument—an instrument on which all the harpsichord repertory may be played. There are also the issues of space and expense to take into consideration. Most harpsichord repertory composed before the eighteenth century was written for single-manual keyboards, as is evident from the number of those instruments that survive. High and late Baroque periods saw the development of larger harpsichords by expanding the compass and often adding a second manual.6 There are the obvious differences in appearance, ranging from natural wood to ornately painted decorations of the body and lid of the harpsichord. In addition, there is variation in the length of instruments, the internal supports, depth, key dip, key size, and choice of materials used for strings, keys, and other parts of the instrument. These factors all affect the sound and touch of the instrument. When selecting an instrument, it is imperative to research the history and different styles available. Several eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century treatises mention the importance of choosing a harpsichord appropriate for the beginning student. Issues of key size and quilling are discussed. For students new to the harpsichord, the treatises recommend soft quilling and/or playing on only one set of strings.7 Couperin cannot stress enough the importance of having soft quills for the instruction of young beginners: One should only use a spinet or a single manual harpsichord at first for the very young, and either of them should be very lightly quilled, this point being of infinite importance. Beautiful playing depends more on suppleness and great freedom of the fingers than on force, so that if, at the beginning, one allows a child to play on two [coupled] sets of strings, it will strain his small hands to make the keys sound and will result in badly placed hands or a harsh manner of playing. 8

Marpurg offers similar advice on regulating the quills for a beginner at the harpsichord:

8

Historical Harpsichord Technique It is advantageous to exercise the fingers on the harpsichord right from the beginning so that they will develop strength. However, a hard-quilled keyboard is harmful to the tender hands of young persons. . . . This situation results in coarse and hard playing and in quite misshapen positioning of the hands. . . . This prevents the hands from acquiring playing that is round and clear. Therefore, either the [plectra] should be very weakly quilled or only one register should be engaged.9

Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach also mentions in his Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen that a harpsichord should be quilled lightly, but not excessively. Here, he defines what constitutes successful quilling: A good harpsichord must have uniform quilling in addition to a good tone. . . . The tests of the quilling are neat, facile execution of embellishments, and an equal, quick reaction of each key as the thumbnail sweeps over the entire manual with a light, uniform pressure. The action of the harpsichord must not be too light and effeminate; the keys must not fall too deep; the fingers must meet resistance from them and be raised again by the jacks. On the other hand, they must not be too difficult to depress.10

Nicolò Pasquali states in The Art of Fingering (1758) that he teaches children not only on a lightly quilled harpsichord but also on specially made spinets with narrow keys. The smallest spinet had an octave the size of an average sixth. A slightly bigger spinet had an octave the size of a seventh.11 He reasons: Thus they will be taught good fingering at first, and acquire a good habit from their earliest lessons. Otherwise they must learn their lessons with wrong fingers in their infancy, and then learn them over again with proper fingers in their riper years, which, perhaps, may not be so easily done, and is more than probable that a tincture of bad fingering will stick to them as long as they live. This last assertion I can aver by the experience I have had of some of my own scholars.12

There are also small keyboard instruments extant in various museums and private instrument collections. Some are only two feet wide or less and probably were intended for children. Among these small instruments is the ottavino harpsichord.13 Rameau also encourages lightly quilled instruments for beginners, but recommends that as they progress, the students move to keyboards with stronger actions that have more heavily voiced quills:

Preparing to Play

9

One must ensure that the resistance of the keys does not adversely affect the movement of the fingers, and so the harpsichord cannot be too soft, but as the fingers develop in strength, one can play upon a less soft keyboard and arrive gradually at being able to press down the more resistant keys.14

His reasoning is twofold—to teach the student to feel the plucking point in the key depth as well as to develop finger independence: One needs to try to acquire the necessary movement in the fingers and to give to each of them its own particular movement before trying to develop its strength . . . as at the outset one has difficulty in moving each finger independently, the extra effort in trying to depress the keys might result in ruining the perfection of their movement.15

Although many of the aforementioned sources direct their comments toward young students in particular, my experience as both a harpsichordist and a harpsichord teacher supports the practice of beginning students of any age playing for many weeks, if not months, on only one manual with just one set of eight-foot strings engaged. Having myself come from a strong background in modern piano before learning the harpsichord, I was allowed by my first harpsichord teacher to play only on one register (a single eight-foot set of strings) for many months. From this experience, I learned to lighten my touch and grow accustomed to a more delicate way of stroking the keys. In contrast to a technique needed for the hammer mechanism of the piano, I learned to feel the quill plucking the strings by playing slowly on a single eight-foot set of strings. Türk suggests a clavichord as a useful learning instrument: At least in the beginning, the clavichord is unquestionably best suited for learning, for on no other keyboard instrument is it possible to achieve finesse in playing as well as on this one. If, in addition, a harpsichord or a good pianoforte could be acquired later, the pupil would gain even more, for by playing on these instruments, the fingers achieve more strength and elasticity. One must, however, not play on the harpsichord exclusively, because execution might suffer. Whoever is not able to have both instruments should choose the clavichord. The better the instrument, the greater the gain for the pupil, for he will much rather practice on a good instrument and will learn to play with more expression than he would by having to pound on a miserable old box, as is often the case.16

10


Regardless of one’s level or commitment to harpsichord as a vocation or avocation, it is worth the investment to procure a decent, if not a fantastic, instrument that has an even touch with good repetition.17 In my opinion, true progress on harpsichord touch cannot be obtained by practicing on keyboards other than a harpsichord, such as piano, organ, clavichord, or even synthesizer. While the study of multiple keyboards may contribute to one’s musicianship, sensitivity, and versatility, nothing substitutes for the touch and feel of the unique plucking action on a harpsichord itself.

Position at the Keyboard A harpsichordist’s touch is dependent upon how one positions oneself at the keyboard. Factors to take into consideration before one actually plays are the distance between the torso and keys, the position of the body in relation to the center of the keyboard, the height of the arms and hands, and the position of the feet. Many writers in the eighteenth century concern themselves with these very issues. Regarding the distance between the torso and the keyboard, Türk gives these measurements: “The body must be approximately ten to fourteen inches (Zoll) away from the keyboard. It is obvious that a person whose arms are still quite short should be allowed to draw the chair a little closer.”18 Couperin’s guidelines are shorter: “The distance that an adult should be from the harpsichord is about nine inches (pouces), measured from the waist; and proportionately less so for younger people.”19 Marpurg’s recommended distance is also shorter than the dimensions suggested by Türk. His guidelines are very flexible, however, allowing for a comfortable position and proper form of the arm: Reckoned from the middle of the body, the correct distance from the keyboard is between six to ten inches depending on whether a person has longer or shorter arms. Yet, one should not be so far from the instrument that if the hands do touch the outermost keys the body is drawn out of position, or not so close that the elbows are thrust backwards so that the upper arm runs downward in a perpendicular line.20

The appropriate distance differs from person to person and is based on height and arm length as well as general comfort and personal preferences. The instrument itself also plays a role, depending on how far the wood juts out below the keys. Differences also exist in the extension of the number of

Preparing to Play

11

keys—from around four octaves in the late seventeenth century to five or five and a half octaves in the late eighteenth century. Composers wrote music accordingly; players may need to move farther away from the keys in order to stretch their arms out wider. How far or close keyboardists sit also depends on whether or not they will play on the upper manual, which is further away than the bottom manual. Where, then, should a harpsichordist sit? The advice of early method books ranges from the general to the specific. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that, unlike the majority of modern pianos (excluding the large concert Bösendorfers),21 harpsichord keyboards do not have eighty-eight keys, or any standard number of keys, should one even want to sit exactly across from the middle of the keyboard. As previously stated, the span of keys on a harpsichord ranges from four octaves to more than five. Many pianists learn where middle C is during their very first lesson. What is more, they are taught to center their bodies in front of this particular note or thereabouts. Why? Middle C is not really situated in the middle of a piano. On a piano with eighty-eight keys, there are thirty-nine notes to the left of middle C and forty-eight to the right of it. The modern notion of middle C as the center of the keyboard is thus arbitrary. If one sits opposite the true center of the piano, E/F above middle C, the left hand may play up high more often and more easily. Franz Liszt had no fixed position at the keyboard whatsoever.22 Regardless of the time period, authors from the late sixteenth century to the late eighteenth century (and beyond) advocate a generally centered position at the keyboard. Diruta, whose treatise is geared more toward the organist, says the keyboardist “must sit facing the middle of the keyboard.”23 Nassarre also mentions that the keyboardist should sit in the middle of the keyboard.24 Hartong teaches in his Clavier-Anweisung (1749), “One cannot comfortably fix the fingers unless the beginner sits at the right height and length from the keyboard. Therefore, one sits in the middle of the keyboard.”25 Couperin says, “The center of the body and that of the keyboard should correspond with one another.”26 Does this signify the waist and hip area? Corrette says, “It is necessary to place oneself opposite the middle of the harpsichord.”27 Marpurg writes, “One should sit directly opposite the middle of the keyboard, because the left hand must be able to reach the furthest keys on the right hand side, and the right hand must be able to reach the furthest keys on the left hand side.”28 Similarly, C. P. E. Bach explains, “The performer must sit at the middle of the keyboard, so he may strike [anschlagen] the highest and

12


lowest tones with equal ease.”29 Türk teaches that one must sit exactly in front of middle C so that the highest as well as the lowest notes may be comfortably reached.30 He is among the first writers to designate a specific note as a positioning point in front of which the keyboardist should sit. Nowadays, we seem to take this centered sitting position for granted, but I find it interesting that the writers of many early method books feel the need to mention it. As pedagogues, we should never assume the obvious with beginning students. We should inquire about everything and know that there are usually multiple opinions to be offered on an array of topics relating to playing any instrument. If children are sitting on a long bench, they may not instinctively position the body in a centered position. If so, the teacher may find that place and redirect the student there. It is equally important to sit at a proper height. This varies from player to player and is subject to taste. Another factor is whether or not the harpsichord has a single or double manual. If the upper manual is going to be played, the harpsichordist needs to sit high enough to avoid tiring the arms. Baroque treatises have much to say regarding how high one should sit.31 A few mention the importance of finding the right kind of seat. Corrette affirms, “It is necessary to sit on a comfortable seat, such as a chair or stool, because an armchair cramps the arms.”32 Marpurg’s instructions focus on finding a height that does not exhaust the hands: One must also sit at the proper height from the keyboard, not so high or low that the palm of the hand is thrown into a slanted plane with the elbow. In either case the hand will tire, not to mention [being thrown into] a poor position.33

Small, portable harpsichords used to be put on tables. Some Flemish instruments had high stands, and the player stood. Harpsichordists today hardly ever stand while playing, unlike keyboardists in some other, more popular genres, such as rock music, where they are often seen standing as they play an assortment of electric keyboards. Harpsichordists should not sit too high or too low. Many new harpsichords have the option of a matching chair or bench, usually built to accommodate a person of average height, but chairs may also be custom built. It is desirable to acquire an adjustable seat, either a concert pianist’s bench or a rotating stool. Since the majority of harpsichords do not have pedals, what should harpsichordists do with their feet when they are playing? Couperin comments on children whose feet do not yet touch the ground: “It will be necessary to

Preparing to Play

13

put something of suitable height under young people’s feet . . . so that their feet are not dangling in the air and so they may keep their bodies properly balanced.”34 Marpurg writes similarly, “If the feet of the young person do not reach the floor, place a bench for balance and so that the body does not rock.”35

Posture After finding an appropriate, comfortable position at the keyboard, one proceeds to perfect the posture of the body. As Couperin points out, “Because one needs to play elegantly, we must begin with the position of the body.”36 Many of the historical writings adhere to a posture that is at once upright and stately as well as relaxed. Modern concerns, such as poor posture (a slumped torso, a drooped head, etc.), are mentioned in these early treatises. Diruta says that the keyboardist “must not make gestures or movements with his body, but must keep the body and head upright and graceful.”37 John Baptist Samber instructs us in his Manuductio ad organum (1704), “Accustom oneself to sitting erect, not humped, in the middle of the keyboard.”38 François-Hippolyte Barthélemon’s New Tutor (1800) remarks: “Nothing can look more awkward than to see a person leaning over the instrument with the head hanging down, as if ashamed of what he was about.”39 Nassarre’s first rule for beginners concerns the position of the body: To clarify the first rule I have mentioned, the position of the body should be upright in the middle of the keyboard so one may depress all the keys with the two hands [equally], without extending one arm more than the other. It is important that the position be this way so that one minimizes the movement of each arm as it descends or ascends the range of the keyboard.40

Nassarre goes on to describe a way of holding the body that resembles basic principles taught in yoga classes as well as in Alexander Technique.41 That is to say, when the torso and head are held straight, the posture allows for the natural movement of the limbs and thus a fluid motion of energy. He explains that the torso is the core from which the head and limbs are governed. If the body is held in a lengthened and centered pose, without leaning, the arms, hands, and fingers will respond naturally as well: Aside from having the foundation of the body in the middle point of the keyboard, it should also be perpendicular in position, without inclining it forward, backward, nor to the sides, and holding the head in the same man-

14

Historical Harpsichord Technique ner, because it is the most natural posture for man, and it follows the same posture as the body and that of the limbs; for in this manner, the hands’ position on the keyboard should come naturally, and thus the movements of the fingers will also be natural.42

Much like Nassarre, Rameau discusses the interconnectedness of the limbs and joints in relation to their root: The movement of the fingers begins at their root, that is to say, at the point where they join the hand, and never anywhere else. That of the hand begins at the wrist joint, while that of the forearm, if such a movement were necessary, begins at the elbow.43

For musicians of all ages, the following imagery is effective. Visualize a tree, with its complex interconnectedness of small and large branches. Picture a small breeze that comes along—only the leaves rustle and smaller branches blow in the wind. The roots, the trunk, and the heavier branches remain more still. Now, imagine a stronger breeze. This time, the trunk sways slightly, and then it returns to its upright position when the wind has stopped. We may apply this imagery to our bodies when we play harpsichord—the trunk as our torso, the branches as our arms, the twigs as our wrists and hands, and the leaves as our fingers. For many years, I have accompanied voice lessons on both harpsichord and piano. In several of these lessons, I have heard instructors teach their students to picture a string pulling upward from their head. This visualization assists in facilitating an elegant, healthy posture, both for standing and for sitting at the harpsichord. Starting with Diruta and continuing for several generations thereafter, treatises make a point of mentioning unnecessary body movements and facial grimaces as an obstacle to a poised, relaxed, and graceful posture. Forkel describes J. S. Bach’s calm posture: “It is hardly necessary to say that other limbs of his body took no part in his performance, as is the case with many whose hands lack the requisite agility.” 44 In his Regole armoniche (1797), Vincenzo Manfredini describes what he considers to be an appropriate amount of movement from the fingers and limbs: The best position of the hand consists in moving the fingers in a manner easy and beautiful to see; namely, only the fingers should be active and not the head, the arm, or another part of the body; because such a useless contor-

Preparing to Play

15

tion not only hurts the perfect execution of the notes, but is also revolting to spectators of good taste.45

Nassarre lists the following rule: All unnecessary movement in the other limbs should also be avoided. There are some who move the body to the beat of the hands, others [who move] the head, others who [collapse inward] their shoulders, and others who make movements with the mouth. All of this goes against the natural posture of man, who, governed by reason, should have all movements of the limbs in harmony, because if it is to the contrary, it causes undue attention and makes one subject to mockery.46

Marpurg has a rather detailed list of gestures to avoid: One must also be watchful about expressions and gestures, so as not to make faces, nod with the head, snort, make a wry mouth, gnash the teeth, or do other such ridiculous things. In the absence of the teacher, a pupil who habitually falls into such faults may place a mirror on the music rack in order to correct himself by it.47

Couperin offers similar advice: “Regarding facial grimaces, one may correct this by placing a mirror on the music stand of the spinet or harpsichord.” 48 I recommend using a mirror in the practice room as well as in the teaching studio. Many voice studios follow this practice. Keyboardists (and other instrumentalists, for that matter) may benefit from doing this as well.49 C. P. E. Bach is similarly open about his admonition against inappropriate grimacing at the keyboard: In playing, the fingers should be arched and the muscles [or tendons] relaxed (mit gebogenen Fingern und schlaffen Nerven). The less these two conditions are satisfied, the more attention must be given to them. Stiffness hampers all movement, above all the constantly required rapid extension and contraction of the hands. . . . If he understands the correct principles of fingering and has not acquired the habit of making unnecessary gestures, he will play the most difficult things in such a manner that the motion of his hands will barely be noticeable; moreover, everything will sound as if it presents no obstacles to him. Conversely, those who do not understand these principles will often play the easiest things with great snorting, grimacing, and uncommon awkwardness.50

On the other hand, Bach was a great master of dramatic, whimsical fantasias; his music reflected the concept of Sturm und Drang,51 so it comes as no

16


surprise that he does not advocate a performance devoid of facial expression when it is befitting the character of the music: A musician cannot move others unless he too is moved. . . . It is principally in improvisations or fantasias that the keyboardist can best master the feelings of his audience. Those who maintain that all of this can be accomplished without gesture will retract their words when, owing to their own insensibility, they find themselves obliged to sit like a statue before their instrument. Ugly grimaces are, of course, inappropriate and harmful; but fitting expressions help the listener to understand our meaning.52

Charles Burney describes C. P. E. Bach’s performance on the clavichord: “He grew so animated and possessed, that he not only played, but looked like one inspired. His eyes were fixed, his under lip fell, and drops of effervescence distilled from his countenance.”53 Türk allows for facial expression (within reason, of course): In the introduction, warnings were already made against grimaces, etc., while playing; but if one succeeds in training oneself that the countenance approximates the character of the composition in a decorous manner, or that there is an appearance of being imbued with the effect appropriate in each instance, this is at least not prejudicial to good execution. At the same time I do not hold that such a pantomimic play in music contributes very much to expression as was formerly maintained. Nevertheless, I also do not know what significant objections could be raised if the player took on a cheerful countenance for livelier affects, for tender affects an agreeable one, and for serious ones a sedate—in short, a sympathetic countenance. But certainly not a peevish expression for a single difficult passage or for every note a special movement of the mouth and the like.54

Löhlein gives the following advice in his Klavierschule: Be on guard for all nods back and forth, in short, for all grimaces and mannerisms which are inappropriate. A teacher cannot be attentive enough, because bad habits creep in this way and are difficult to give up. Often these gestures make even a good player appear foolish.55

In Johann Mattheson’s Vollkommene Kapellmeister, he devotes a chapter to the subject of gesturing in performance (Geberdenkunst), in which he says: It would be desirable if those who could not demonstrate correct gestures because of bad habits would at least not exhibit awkward or ill-mannered ones, or indifferent and unconcerned facial expressions. . . . I have been

Preparing to Play

17

present at many, many Passions, Mourning and Burial music, which to my greatest chagrin brought about much joking and laughter. . . . I have seen very strange and unseemly attitudes of all sorts, which sometimes have not the slightest relationship to the subject or to the words. If now and then one still meets in this or that person with what the French call le bon air, then it is unusually good fortune; that other attribute, however, which is called le bon goût, is sought for in vain, for the most part. . . . When the keyboard player allows his mouth to writhe, wrinkles his forehead up and down, and contorts his face to such a degree, would it not frighten little children?56

The aforesaid postural descriptions provide the foundation for certain piano method books decades later, such as that by Dussek and Pleyel: The player should avoid lowering his head, arching his back, and contracting his chest from the shoulders; the latter must always be lowered and relaxed, not only to preserve a correct bearing and proper grace but also for freedom in breathing, which for health reasons, it is important not to constrain and repress, even when playing the most difficult pieces.57

A few treatises are unique in their directions for the slight turning of the torso and feet. Couperin teaches: One should turn the body slightly to the right when at the harpsichord, the knees not pressed too tightly together; the feet should be placed side by side, but especially the right foot well out to the side.58

Marpurg also advocates this position: When one is seated at the keyboard, the body should be turned a little toward the right side. The knees should not be kept tightly together. The feet should be placed beside each other, with the right one, especially, being turned somewhat outward.59

Likewise, Corrette writes: It is necessary to sit on a comfortable seat, such as a chair or stool without armrests, which will bother the arms, placing yourself opposite the middle of the keyboard, holding the body and head upright, the feet outward, the shoulders straight and turned slightly away from the head toward the audience [to the right].60

The straight line of the spine allows for relaxed nerves and a good flow of oxygen. Although a gently turned posture places a potential strain on the equilibrium of the body by slightly misaligning the spine, it nonetheless

18


looks graceful and elegant. Advocating this position as part of harpsichord technique might not be the best advice, but aesthetically and diplomatically it turns the body toward the audience (or the king, if one happens to be playing for the Royal Chapel).

Relaxation Any excess tension in the body can negatively affect one’s touch at the keyboard. More specifically, relaxation of the arms and hands is vital to achieving a gentle touch and to conveying expression on the harpsichord. Trapped tension61 can manifest in many ways, such as raised or slouched shoulders, flapping elbows, tight wrists that are held too high or too low, useless hand or finger movements, and fingers that are rigidly spread out. It may also appear in other parts of the body, such as in a nervously tapping foot, a bobbing torso or a stiff upper body, a clenched or wiggly jaw, a tongue that sticks out of the mouth, noticeable singing, humming, or groaning, as well as in an array of facial grimaces that have no connection to the drama of the music. It can also appear as loud, heavy breathing or, even worse, breathing too quickly or holding the breath altogether. There are many possible reasons for such superfluous movements of the body, such as a chair or bench that is too low, nervousness, anxiety, poor diet, or poor health. It may take some players years to undo these habits; others, just a few weeks. A teacher can only do harm to a student’s progress by not fully addressing the issue of tension in the student’s technique. Tension inhibits the proper flow of oxygen and blood throughout the body, both of which are vital to clarity of thought and to obtaining a fluid, graceful technique. Not only does physical tension affect the playing and thus the music itself, but it can also cause fatigue or, worse, bodily harm to the player in the form of various repetitive stress injuries, tendonitis, and even nerve damage. Although this concept of relaxation as it pertains to early keyboard playing may seem like a new idea, perhaps holistic and even “New Age,” this principle is taught repeatedly in many treatises throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. One of my first teachers told me, “You shouldn’t burn many calories while playing the harpsichord.” 62 Motivated out of a wish for me to obtain a relaxed technique with a delicate touch, her comment harkens back to the organist Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers, who proclaims in his Livre d’orgue (1665), “To play pleasantly, you must do it effortlessly. To play effortlessly, you must

Preparing to Play

19

do it comfortably.” 63 Even if it was an organist who made such a simple and brilliant comment, the message rings clear for harpsichordists. Over and over again, Baroque writers reiterate the need to avoid tightness in all aspects of keyboard technique. Johannes Speth, writing in the Wegweiser (1689), mentions only briefly some guidelines for good hand technique. The remaining lessons, he says, are up to each individual teacher: “Instruction on how to achieve a proper touch with the use of the fingers, which follows almost automatically from the proper use of the hands, is for the sake of brevity left to the discretion of the teaching masters.” The Wegweiser tells us, “In the beginning, a teaching master is concerned with training the student to hold his body upright and to keep his hands loose and his fingers neither too curved nor too stiff.” 64 And from Marpurg we read: Young beginning students tend (particularly with trills and mordents) to tighten and force the muscles, with the intent of bringing out one [or another] tone, no matter how lightly quilled the keys may be. Therefore one should see to it from the first hour of instruction that they relax the muscles and leave the fingers such freedom as if these had nothing to do with the task.65

Concerning the nature of teachers and students, Hartong says that a beginning student must bring to lessons “flexible fingers, from which it is hoped that they will become supple. . . . If one of these qualities is either lacking or does not soon appear, then the student may as well give up instruction.” 66 Couperin is a little more hopeful about rectifying the problems of people who hold tension in their fingers. He proposes that they pull and stretch their fingers gently to help facilitate flexibility: People who begin late, or who have been badly taught, need to be careful; for as the tendons may have become toughened, or they may have developed bad habits, they should loosen up their fingers, or get someone else to do it for them, before sitting down at the harpsichord; that is to say, to stretch or pull their fingers in all directions; that, moreover, will awaken their energy, and they will find much greater flexibility.67

Writing as early as 1597, Diruta states: Because many organists have accustomed the hand to these defects from the beginning, their playing rarely makes the sounds [armonia] that they should; whereas had they accustomed the hand to lightness and suppleness, we would have seen them play things [well], no matter how difficult.68

20


He also tells us that the fingers should “not stiffen . . . nor strike the keys.” 69 He offers a visual image to describe a relaxed hand position: I will give you an example in order to explain how to hold the hand lightly and pliantly over the keyboard: when one slaps angrily, one applies great force. But when one wants to fondle and pet, as we do when caressing a child, one keeps the hand light without applying force.70

Some thirty years later, Mersenne differentiates between a light touch and fast fingers. He remarks on playing with ease and without force in order to produce a sweeter tone on the harpsichord: Beautiful touch on the harpsichord . . . consists of holding both hands together on the keyboard in such a way that they are not forced, nor deformed [constrained], and that their harmonious [orderly] movement gives as much pleasure as the sound of the strings. But it must be noted that lightness of the hand is very different from speed, for many have a very fast hand, which is, nonetheless, quite heavy, as is shown by the hardness and roughness of their playing. Now those who have that lightness of hand can be called Absolute Masters of their hands and fingers, with which they press as little as they want on the keys, in order to sweeten the sound of the spinet, as one does on the lute.71

In Traité de l’accord de l’espinette (1650) Jean Denis avers that a harpsichordist will never play well with a forced and tense technique: It is wonderful to behold a person who plays well and gracefully, and whose hand is correctly positioned. But one must be very careful not to play with either force or tension, for he who is tense or strained in his hands or in his body will never play well. That is why the masters who teach should carefully consider the ability of the person who is being taught: whether he is capable of playing according to the rules, and whether his fingers can do so.72

In a section titled “Relaxation and Avoidance of Heaviness and Extra Movement” in Hernando de Cabezón’s Obras de música para tecla (1578) we read: And thanks to this, the player is not embarrassed like other musicians, nor hindered by the instrument, nor does he lose control of his speech, gesture, or movement when playing, but, on the contrary, he remains seated with calm, authority, and control, moving only the hands while playing, without fatigue or heaviness.73

Preparing to Play

21

Türk attaches great importance to the natural relationship between relaxation and finger control. He describes hand and body positions that allow players to use their hands and fingers in an unconstrained manner: If the three longer fingers are held extended, the [tendons] will be subjected to tension at the same time and as a result, it will not be possible to play with the necessary ease. Only when executing large skips and wide stretches is it necessary and therefore permissible to hold the three longer fingers in an extended position.74

Here he alludes to the momentary motion of stretching the middle fingers for the sake of a large interval, but the fingers return to their unstretched, naturally curved, and relaxed position as soon as possible. His words recall C. P. E. Bach’s description about the rapid extension and contraction of the hands, which I include under the section “Contraction of the Hand” in chapter 4. Türk also advises students who are serious about their music-making to avoid activities that might harm their hands in any way, either by toughening up the skin or by exhausting the muscles. He reflects ideas shared by Nassarre and Saint-Lambert, who emphasize the need to care for the hands and refrain from anything that will cause the muscles to become tight or the skin to become rough. Although Türk specifically mentions the clavichord in the following quote, it is undoubtedly just as applicable to the harpsichord, which he also played: Those persons, particularly males, who wish to learn to play the clavichord, should by no means occupy themselves in work that would make the fingers stiff. Since this is not to be avoided in the case of all music students, one must at least inform them in advance that they cannot become very facile players. Whoever wants to make music, and particularly the playing of the clavichord, his chief occupation must omit such work by all means, because it is not possible to achieve necessary facility with stiff fingers.75

Couperin remarks similarly on the importance of refraining from harsh physical labor: Men who want to attain a certain degree of perfection should never do any rough work with their hands. Women’s hands, on the contrary, are generally better. I have already stated that suppleness of the tendons contributes much more to good playing than force; my proof is evident in the difference

22

Historical Harpsichord Technique between the hands of women and those of men, and furthermore, the left hand of men, which is used less in working, is usually the more supple at the harpsichord.76

I have also made a general observation that, among both male and female harpsichordists, the left hand tends to be more supple than the right hand. I attribute this to the fact that the majority of them are right-handed—thus, their left hand actually uses fewer muscles in daily life. Even if their left hand is weaker in overall strength, the fingers have more liberty and flexibility. I can speak only from an overall perspective that is purely subjective and without scientific foundation. Contrary to this idea, my own hands reflect the opposite situation—my right hand can play fast passages much more easily and clearly than my left hand, and I am right-handed. Saint-Lambert comments: “There is nothing freer in harpsichord playing than the position of the fingers. In that respect, each person seeks only his comfort and elegance.” 77 Comfort requires the appropriate balance between relaxation and the development of the necessary muscles involved in playing. He tells us: “Regarding the aptitude of the hand, there is no one who cannot have it, if he begins to practice early in life. This aptitude is nothing other than a great suppleness in the tendons, which leaves the fingers free to move subtly.” 78 He describes the harpsichord as being “extremely easy to play, not at all tiring for those who play it, and not requiring, as do some other instruments, a constrained posture that very often is not becoming to modest persons. This is what has given it such a sovereign position that all persons of distinction now want to learn how to play it.” 79 Jean-Jacques Rousseau speaks in general about the need to maintain a relaxed, natural position, with a remark on the appropriate position of the thumbs: “Place the two hands on the keyboard in such a way that you have a completely unhindered position, for which one must usually exclude the right hand thumb, because the two thumbs poised on the keyboard, specifically on the white [diatonic] keys, would put the arms in a strained and awkward position.”80 Placing two thumbs simultaneously on one note seems rather unnatural, but one assumes that comments like his come from witnessing such behavior. Some teachers might also give such finger exercises to beginners, placing their thumbs together on middle C for five-note warm-ups in contrary motion. These students could make the mistake of assuming this position in actual pieces, which is a pity, because it rubs the thumbs together forcefully, causing

Preparing to Play

23

undue strain. Not only are the thumbs crowded, but the pressure from the two pushing against each other forces the other fingers and the hand itself to turn unnaturally outward. We can extract from Francesco Gasparini’s continuo treatise L’armonico pratico al cimbalo (1708), in which he says, “Be sure to place the hands carefully so that each finger assumes a natural position, not forced or twisted, or too straight, but poised on the keys, relaxed, supple, and with appropriate readiness.”81 Manfredini summarizes the delicate way of playing even more simply: “The best position of the hand consists in moving the finger in a manner easy and beautiful to see.”82 In all of these instances in which relaxation is mentioned in relation to posture and technique, it is important to remember that we are talking about the avoidance of unnecessary tension. Obviously, if any part of the body were completely relaxed, we would not be sitting up or holding our hands up on the keyboard. Totally at rest, the hands would fall of their own accord onto the keys. Gasparini expresses the concept of “poise” and “readiness,” which clearly conveys the appropriate amount of muscular preparedness needed to play. The hand, relaxed and poised, becomes a fixed point that supplies stability for the freedom of the fingers.

Arms and Elbows In this section, I share descriptions from several historical treatises that discuss arm and elbow positions at the keyboard. The authors tend to favor one of two angles—forearms that are either slanted slightly downward or parallel with the keys. Of those that advocate a parallel pose, some describe a ninetydegree angle of the upper arm and forearm, whereas others have a wider opening at the inner part of the elbow. Some authors are less clear in their descriptions. Few recommend a forearm lower than the keyboard itself, except for some very early treatises, namely Sancta Maria in his Libro llamado arte de tañer fantasia (1565), but his treatise is primarily for clavichord, a keyboard instrument demanding a completely different touch and technique from the harpsichord. Sancta Maria’s hand posture will be discussed more fully in my section devoted to wrists. The only other author to promote a low elbow position is Rameau, a century and a half later, but even then, he allows the forearm to be lower than the hand only when the harpsichordist has progressed to a more advanced level of playing.

24


Some authors prefer the elbows to be held close to the body, whereas others want them slightly away from the torso, swinging freely. Diruta is among the earliest writers to advocate that the elbow, arm, and wrist be parallel. The wrists are held higher than the keyboard with the middle fingers drawn inward in order for the hand to arch itself naturally. In a section “How the Arm Must Guide the Hand,” he states: Without a doubt, this is the most important piece of advice. If you have ever noticed those who have poorly trained hands, it appears that they are lame, since one sees only those fingers that touch the keys, the other fingers being hidden. They also hold the arm so low that it ends up beneath the level of the keyboard, and the hands seem to be hanging from the keys. Everything goes wrong for them because the hand is not guided by the arm as it ought to be. Therefore, it is no wonder that such performers, in addition to the exhaustion they suffer in playing, never give a successful performance. 83

Corrette also rules in favor of parallel elbows, writing in Les amusemens du Parnasse (1749): The elbows and wrists should be level with the keyboard, but it is necessary for the sake of gracefulness that the elbows [hang] beside the body in an easy manner. One may move them when it is necessary to cover large intervals on the keyboard, principally in the pieces where one crosses the hands. 84

Johann Samuel Petri’s Anleitung (1767) promotes an arm position with elbows and palms in a straight, horizontal line.85 Pasquali also prefers a parallel position but allows room for alterations of the pose, apparent in his choice of the word thereabout. “The elbows of the performer should be in a line parallel with the keys of the instrument or thereabout.”86 Saint-Lambert is included among the proponents of this parallel posture: “The wrist should be parallel with the elbow, depending on the seat that one chooses.”87 An anonymous author gives the following explanation in New Instructions for Playing the Harpsichord, Piano-forte, or Spinnet (1798): Let the elbows be parallel with the keys of the harpsichord when playing. . . . To give brilliance to the fingers when they play, keep the arms and wrists rather stiff [emphasis mine], except moving them to the right or left part of the keys of the harpsichord, as the Lesson may require; but they must not be lifted up and down at the motion of the fingers, and the part of the arms above the elbows must be kept nearly close to the sides of the body. 88

Preparing to Play

25

If this author truly intends for the arms and wrists to be kept stiff, surely this is poor advice. However, if we interpret stiff to mean “firm” or “supported,” not flopping around, then this is sound advice. Manfredini reasons that higher elbows allow for an easier reach of the extreme parts of the fingerboard. “To play well,” he writes, “one needs to sit in a manner so that the elbow is a little higher or at least at the level of the keyboard, so as to be able to play high and low notes easily.”89 Samber remarks: “The hands and arms should be free from the body.” 90 J. C. Bach and F. P. Ricci advise: “Sit at the proper height, so that the elbows and the wrist be a little higher than the level of the keyboard, and so that the hand falls as of its own accord on the keys.” 91 C. P. E. Bach says, “When the performer is in the correct position with respect to his height, his forearms are suspended slightly above the fingerboard.” 92 Löhlein follows in this tradition: The seating must be arranged so that the elbow lies in a natural position, somewhat higher than the keyboard.93 If the keyboard player sits too low so that the elbow is lower than the keys, then playing is difficult. In this low position, proper circulation of the blood in the hand will be obstructed.94

Türk specifically recommends a high elbow position “several inches higher than the hands.” 95 One must sit neither too high nor too low, but in such a way that the elbow is noticeably higher—that is, by several inches—than the hand. Should the clavichord frame be too high, particularly for younger persons—as is usually the case—then the seat of the chair should be raised. For if the hands are held as high or higher than the elbow while playing, it is very tiring, and inhibits the use of the necessary strength, because in this case the [tendons] become tense (the arms must not be pressed to the body but neither must they be too far away from it).96

Hartong, in his section “Concerning the application or the fixing of the fingers,” says the following: [Sit him] just far enough away from it so that when his hands are on the keys, the upper arm is not perpendicular to the keyboard, but, rather, the elbows are somewhat nearer to the keyboard than the upper arms. Thus he will have his hands very free, and they will not become cramped when moved in any direction, which can occur when he sits nearer to the keyboard. . . . Further, when one sits him high enough so that his hands rest somewhat lower than his elbows, the hands do not become tired.97

26


Couperin tells us: “To be seated at the correct height, the under-surface of the elbows, wrists and fingers should all be on one level [with the keyboard]: therefore a chair must be chosen which will allow this rule to be observed.” 98 Rameau promotes a position in which the elbows are higher than the keyboard: The elbows must be above the level of the keyboard so that the hand falls [on it] as though of its own accord; and they are never too high, so that the thumb and little finger can be placed on the edge of the keys. At the same time as the thumb and little finger are placed on the edge of the keys, the elbows must fall comfortably to the [player’s] sides, in their natural position—a position which should be observed firmly and moved only when absolutely necessary, as when one is obliged to move the hand from one end of the keyboard to the other. This natural position of the elbows, together with correct placement of the thumb and little finger, facilitates the position of everyone, regardless of size, in relation to the harpsichord, leaving only the seat to be adjusted as needed.99

Rameau’s preface to his Pièces de clavecin (1724) provides a full description of postures and movements needed for supple fingers. He later allows for a lower position of the arm and elbow in relation to the keyboard: When it is felt that the hand has been developed, the height of the bench may be gradually lowered until the elbows are slightly below the level of the keyboard, causing the hands to be as though they were glued to the keyboard, allowing the player’s touch the utmost amount of contact.100

Placing the elbows lower than the keyboard is perplexing, but in conjunction with so many of his other comments, it seems that he is merely advocating for constant contact with the quill and the string (as much as is possible from touching the key).

Wrists A woman sitting at the harpsichord appears on the title page of Parthenia, or the Maydenhead, the first collection of music published for the virginals.101 She has piqued my curiosity for many years and was part of my motivation for writing this book. In particular, I am fascinated by the position of Figure 1.1. Title page of Parthenia, or the Maydenhead. This item is reproduced by permission of the Huntington Library, San Marino, Calif.

28


her hands. Her left wrist is turned slightly outward while her fourth and fifth fingers hang away from the keys. In contrast, the right hand is turned inward toward the thumb while the outer fingers fly upward. The palms of her hands seem to glide along the keyboard in a horizontal motion. Her left hand suggests that she is playing with paired fingerings. Her right hand is using the thumb. The positions of her wrists, hands, and fingers are nothing like the hand positions depicted in nearly all treatises with their still, rounded curvature of the hand and parallel (or nearly parallel) alignment of the fingers. Nevertheless, everything about her, from her fingers to her wrists, arms, and blissful expression, suggests a playing style that is delicate, graceful, and relaxed.102 A supple wrist is imperative for a delicacy of touch at the harpsichord. Treatises discuss wrist position in relation to how high they are situated and to what angle they should be turned, if any. Saint-Lambert explains, “Hold one’s hands straight on the keyboard, that is to say, leaning neither inward [toward the thumb] nor outward.”103 If indeed he favors an unturned wrist, surely he means only for a starting position, not necessarily what happens during movement. Georg Friedrich Wolf, on the other hand, describes a position in his Unterricht im Klavierspielen (1789) that has the “hands turned outwards,”104 presumably toward the little finger. Wolf ’s Unterricht is late enough in the eighteenth century for us to know it has piano as its primary focus, but we cannot assume that it does not include harpsichord as well. Rameau is partial to a turned wrist that leans slightly in toward the thumb: The hand must also be parallel with the keyboard. . . . One must slightly lift the side of the hand that is near the little finger with a simple movement of the wrist, and without the hand losing any of its suppleness. This last position is a bit difficult for beginners, because of the little turn of the wrist . . . but without this turn, the little finger would not touch the key perpendicularly, and would have neither the same strength nor the same lightness of touch as the other fingers.105

Elsewhere he says: The wrist joint must always be supple. This suppleness, which is then spread to the fingers, gives them all the ease of movement and all the lightness necessary; and the hand, which by this means is, so to speak, as if dead, serves merely as a support for the fingers that are connected to it and as a way of

Preparing to Play

29

transmitting them to those parts of the keyboard that they cannot reach solely by their own movement.106

Rameau describes a fixed elbow position, allowing the forearms and a flexible wrist to move about the keyboard in various directions: The performance of the various batteries [arpeggiated sections, sometimes involving hand crossing] and roulements [running scale passages] depends first and foremost upon the agility of the wrist, this being achieved by soft, light movements, keeping the elbow joint as a fixed point when the particular batterie reaches beyond the span of the hand.107

Were the whole arm to move up and down the keyboard without a fixed elbow position, the result would be a stiffening of the wrist. In Rameau’s Code de musique pratique (1760), he says, “In every position, in the largest leaps, the hand follows the fingers, the wrist joint [follows] the hand, the elbow [follows] the wrist; and never should the shoulder interfere.”108 This contrasts with Diruta, who says that the arm guides the hand.109 With Rameau, the smaller components guide the larger ones, starting with the fingers and moving outwards through the hand, wrist, and arm. Pasquali describes an even plane between the wrist and third knuckle. “The upper part of the wrist should be in a line pretty much parallel with the highest knuckle of the middle finger.”110 This corresponds to Denis, who elaborates on this position: There are some masters who have their pupils place their hands in such a way that the wrist is lower than the hand, which is very bad, and properly speaking, a vice, because the hand no longer possesses strength. Others make one hold the wrist higher than the hand, which is a fault because the fingers then resemble sticks, straight and stiff. For the proper position of the hand, the wrist and the hand must be at the same height; in other words, the wrist must be at the same height as the large knuckle of the fingers.111

Marpurg also favors a wrist held parallel to the keys. He specifies a flat plane between the underside of the wrist and the tips of the fingers: One must sit at the proper height, not so high or low that the palm of the hand is thrown into a slanted plane with the elbow; the lower part of the elbow, the underside of the wrist, and the downward curving fingertips will form a horizontal or straight line. One should allow the rounded hands to pass over the manual at equal heights without the wrist either jutting upward or dropping downward.112

30


Curvature of the Hands and Fingers As early as 1565, Sancta Maria’s treatise Arte de tañer fantasia gives a detailed description of hand position at the keyboard.113 Sancta Maria was not a noted performer but a priest who happened to write a treatise that focused on the clavichord. Nonetheless I include his teachings here for historical purposes, as they are among the first detailed descriptions of hand technique, even if it is one that I do not advocate for playing the harpsichord (or any other keyboard instrument, for that matter). He dedicates seven chapters to technique, from which the following paragraphs are excerpted: The hands should be held like a hook, like a cat’s paws, not hunchbacked, but the knuckles where the fingers join must be kept low so that the fingers are higher than the hand and are arched. Thus fingers are flexed and can better strike the keys . . . just as the more taut a bow the better, so too the more flexed the fingers the better, and the notes will sound louder, fuller, and brighter . . . it imparts brilliance and sparkle, quite different and distinct than anything without this hand position. Keep hands compact: fingers two through five should be held together, holding two and three close (this is easier on the right hand) to achieve smooth and sweet playing. Keep the thumb low, much lower, but curved inward and from the second joint to the tip kept under the palm. One must curl fingers one and five to have a good hand position. One cannot play with fingers strewn about [esparcidos]. Fingers two through four should be kept over the keys at all times. The index finger is held higher than the others.114

Sancta Maria’s recommended posture remains a historical oddity. The thumb and little finger are drawn inward under the palm. The wrists are stiff and bent. The elbows are low, causing the hands and fingers to grow tired. The index finger is held out and above the other fingers. If Sancta Maria had a low bench and the elbows were below the keyboard, it is possible that by bending the hand backwards, some of the tension could be released. One may also develop strong and dexterous fingers (index through ring finger) in this position; such finger strength may have been needed for pressing the keys of the organs and clavichords available to Sancta Maria.115 He contradicts himself just a few paragraphs later in his treatise when, in his discussion of various conditions needed to play the keys correctly, he advises: The third condition, which is to press the keys well, consists of six things. The first is to touch the keys well with the pads of the fingers, in such a way that the nails do not reach or hit the keys at all [very much?], which is

Preparing to Play

31

accomplished by lowering the wrists, and extending the fingers from the middle joint forward, because by playing in this way, the notes sound completely, sweetly, and softly. The reason for this is that, since flesh is a soft thing, it touches with sweetness and softness. Furthermore, one can play cleanly, since because the fingers sit upon the keys they cannot slide off or escape anywhere. Otherwise, when you play with the nails, two grave errors are committed, [and the notes are] faint and without spirit [lifeless].116

In this latter description, the hand would be shaped less like a cat’s paw and held more naturally in a casually arched position. Even though he is writing about the clavichord, his advocacy for playing below the actual fingertip is well suited to a proper hand position for the harpsichord. As for the infamous description of the “cat’s paw,” the imagery quickly disappears in treatises around the turn of the seventeenth century. Even when C. P. E. Bach or Türk address the clavichord two centuries later, they include nothing even remotely similar to the posture described by Sancta Maria. Diruta, writing only a few decades after Sancta Maria, criticizes his cat’s-paw hand position: If you have ever noticed, those who have poorly trained the hand appear crippled: they hold the arm so low that it is below the keyboard and the hands seem to hang on the keys, and then one can only see the fingers which touch the keys—the others hiding. All this happens to them because the hand is not guided by the arm as it should be. Thus it is no wonder that though they labor to play, nothing they do turns out well. If I could draw a hand to show you this, you would easily understand how it ought to be guided by the arm, and also how the hand is to be cupped and the fingers curved. . . . To cup the hand it is necessary to pull back the fingers somewhat, and so at the same time the hand is cupped and the fingers curved; and the hand should be brought over the keyboard thus.117

Diruta warns against straightening the fingers or curving the thumb and little finger inward excessively. He advocates a natural curvature: The fingers should be together on the keys and therefore rather curved: in addition, the hand should be light and supple on the keyboard, because otherwise the fingers cannot move with agility and promptness.118

Diruta’s hand position is anything but forced or tense. On the contrary, he is in favor of a delicately held and flexible arch, as we recall from his quotation comparing a good hand curvature to the way in which one caresses a child.119 Nassarre describes an arched hand position that forms a natural curve, with the fingers touching the keys with the fleshy part (yema, lit. “yolk”) of

32


the fingertips, which helps one avoid a perpendicular finger position. In many ways, Nassarre’s hand position (intended more for organists) as described in his eighteenth-century treatise is similar to his sixteenth-century Spanish predecessor, especially when they condemn vertical fingers and the touching of the fingernails upon the keys. In pursuit of a natural manner of playing, Na ssarre advises against any motions that seem forced or violent. He describes a proportionate curvature of the fingers, “each one being unequal in length”: The first step needed to demonstrate the music on an organ is the posture of the hands (for the position of the body is its foundation). As I said in the eleventh chapter, the fingers should be slightly arched, not so much that one presses with the nails on the keys nor with the fullness of the pad because either manner causes great difficulty in performance.120

We can infer from his description that he promotes a natural curvature, one in which the fingers are neither completely perpendicular nor totally flat. Nassarre continues, drawing attention to the differences of finger size: Since the fingers of the hands are unequal [in size], it is important that the posture be proportional with all of them, so that in the moment that one moves each one, the movement will be natural, not strained. If the position of the hand is such that the fingers were to be overly arched and pressing with the nails, it should be noted that, since the third finger is longer than the others, it will necessarily be more arched; and when one needs to move it from one key to take it to another, it will need a greater movement by having to extend it more than the others, mathematically speaking, and the movement will be forced by being disproportionate. It is the same with all the other fingers—the movements are unequal, each acting in accordance with its own length. From this one can infer that with such a hand position all the movements will be unnatural, and this is the cause of poor performing in those who make a habit of such a hand position. When the shape of the hands has the fingers arched too little or not at all, the key is pressed down with more area of the finger pad, and because of the same inequality [of length] of the fingers, the movements will be unbalanced and more unnatural. . . . These unnatural and uneven movements produce certain effects of tardiness and clumsiness. For this reason they should not be arched too much or too little, but rather arched partway, because by having the posture of the hand in balance with all the fingers, seeing that they are unequal in length, each finger should come closer together [curving inward, so that] each finger plays with the tip of the fleshy part [not the tip of the finger itself] equally. . . . This manner has three outcomes: the first, that all [fingers] play in the same way, uniformly using the fingertips; second, that they play with equal pressure.

Preparing to Play

33

Figure 1.2. Hand resting on a key in a relaxed position with an unforced, rounded curvature. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

. . . The third effect is that all the movements will be natural and unforced, so that by means of less effort and flexible tendons, one attains agility of the fingers. For all of the reasons mentioned, it is important that organ masters take care when they teach. [It is also important] that those who learn are responsible for their proper hand postures. For if they were to err in this, it would be the same as if the foundation of a building should fail.121

Nassarre’s elaborate style of writing is unclear at times, but what is certain is his advocacy for a natural hand position that takes into consideration the different lengths of the fingers. For this reason his description does not champion a parallel line among the fingers. Although he is writing about organ technique, his condemnation of playing at the very fingertips is most appropriate to playing the harpsichord. Again, the ability to feel the connection to the quill and the point at which it is about to pluck the strings is achieved through a relaxed hand, which enables the fingers to play between the fleshy part and the very tip of the finger. Note also that he cares to mention that it is the responsibility of both the teacher and the student to ensure a proper hand position. In figure 1.2, I offer one possibility of what a natural curvature of the hand might look like. In this photograph, I placed my hand randomly on

34


the keyboard without giving specific thought to how I would round out my hand. G. F. Wolf (1789) is brief in his depiction of the hand’s shape: “The hand must be held round so that the thumb and little finger are not too short.”122 The latter part of his statement suggests a drawing back of the middle fingers that is slightly more forced to make them draw nearer to the outer fingers. He could possibly mean that if the hand were to be held too flat, the two outer fingers would be too far from the keys or would be touching just the outer edges of the keys. His wording is nonetheless too ambiguous to decipher fully. C. P. E. Bach, who is meticulous in some areas of his Versuch, is not so particular in his description of a correct hand profile. However, his admonition of an uncurved hand is clear: “Those who play with flat, extended fingers suffer from a disadvantage. . . . They are too far removed from the thumb, which should always remain as close as possible to the hand [the other fingers].”123 We learn of his own hand position from Forkel, who gives a detailed hand description and claims that he possessed, at least to some degree, his father’s keyboard technique.124 As a keyboardist, Bach the elder was admired by all who had the good fortune to hear him and was the envy of the virtuosi of his day. We do not know whether or not his particular method of playing greatly differed from that of his contemporaries and predecessors. Nor is there evidence describing the differences in his technique on harpsichord, clavichord, and organ. So far, no one has attempted to explain in what the difference consisted other than his seemingly immobile, perfect hand with fingers drawn in parallel to one another and that he played “perpendicular” to the keyboard, but even that is disputable, as we do not know at which point the perpendicularity began. Observations of his technique could be a description of his fingers when he was in mid-motion, peeling his fingers back toward the palms of his hands. Depending on whether he was at rest position or in motion, the curvature of his fingers could have appeared more or less arched as well as vertical. Forkel describes his hand position in this way: Bach placed his hand on the [keyboard] so that his fingers were bent and their extremities poised perpendicularly over the keys in a plane parallel to them. Consequently, none of his fingers was remote from the note it intended to strike, and was ready instantly to execute every command. Observe the consequences of this position. First of all, the fingers cannot fall or (as so often happens) be thrown upon the notes, but are placed upon them in full control of the force they may be called on to exert. In the second place, since

Preparing to Play

35

the force communicated to the note needs to be maintained with uniform pressure, the finger should not be released perpendicularly from the key, but can be withdrawn [drawn back] gently and gradually toward the palm of the hand. In the third place, when passing from one note to another, a sliding action instinctively instructs the next fingers regarding the amount of force exerted by its predecessor, so that the tone is equally regulated and the notes are equally distinct. In other words, the touch is neither too long nor too short, as Carl Philipp Emanuel complains, but is just what it ought to be.125 According to Sebastian Bach’s manner of placing the hand on the keys, the five fingers are bent so that their tips come into a straight line and thus fit the keys, which lie in a plane surface under them, so that no single finger has to be drawn nearer when it is wanted, but every one already hovers over the key which it may have to press down. What follows from his manner of holding the hand is that no finger must fall upon its key, or (as so often happens) be thrown on it, but only needs to be placed upon it with a certain consciousness of the internal power and command over the motion. . . . the holding of the fingers bent renders all their motions easy. There can therefore be none of the chopping, thumping, and stumbling, which is so common in persons who play with their fingers stretched out or not sufficiently bent.126

Türk’s description of how to form the fingers depicts only a small curvature of the middle fingers and straight outer fingers. Like C. P. E. Bach, he also condemns straight middle fingers (with exception) because of the potential stress caused by such a flat position. Türk explains: The correct position of hands and fingers is very important, therefore the following rules should be observed. The three longer (mittlern) fingers must always be curved a little, but the thumb and the little finger must be held out straight; because of the shortness of the little finger, the hands and arms need not sometimes be moved forward and then immediately backward. If the three longer fingers are held extended, the [tendons] will be subjected to tension at the same time, and as a result, it will not be possible to play with the necessary ease. Only when executing large skips and wide stretches is it necessary and therefore permissible to hold the three longer fingers in an extended position.127

One has to wonder if he truly intends the thumb and little finger to lie outstretched without curving whatsoever, or if he means that they should be nearly straight and less arched than the middle fingers. Given the fact that he goes on to discuss the need for the thumb to remain on the keys, it seems that he has observed individuals who have held the fingers so close to the front of the keys that the thumb dangled off the keyboard when not in use. If this

36


latter position were the case, the player would need to move the hand and arm in and out whenever the thumb was needed to play. This motion would be terribly inefficient while playing. Also, if Türk has witnessed thumbs hanging away from the keys, this might suggest that even at such a late date (when the thumbs were used quite often), there existed players who employed earlier finger patterns that favored the three middle fingers. Were they still in fashion by the end of the eighteenth century? Türk writes: The thumb must always be held over the keyboard; therefore it should never hang down or be pressed against the edge of the clavichord, for both of these mistakes, among other things, would cause unavoidable gaps in the music— incorrect articulation of the musical thoughts before the thumb could be placed in its correct position. The fingers must not be held too closely together, but rather a little apart from each other, so that whenever possible, any stretches can be executed nicely and with continuity, without motion of the hands, because playing should be done only with the fingers. For large skips, however, small movements of the hands and arms are unavoidable.128

Corrette (1716) describes the following hand curvature that he feels promotes supple playing: The beautiful manner of placing the hands upon the keyboard is to curve the three middle fingers so that they may be almost equal with the thumb and the little finger, on the same straight line above five successive keys, as for example, C D E F G, because if several fingers are found on the same key, not only does the hand look bad, but, moreover, this impedes the freedom and suppleness of the fingers.129

Although in this paragraph he says “almost equal with” and “the same straight line,” it is likely that he means for the curve of the fingertips, when placed on five consecutive keys, to have an even, steady line instead of a jagged one caused by fingers placed in different parts of the keys, some closer to the edge and some farther inward. He describes a curvature that places the fingertips near each other but not exactly parallel. When the middle fingers lie close to the outer fingers, they create a slight curve that is almost a straight line. Nivers says that a natural and graceful manner of playing is achieved by “evenly curling the fingers, especially the longer ones, so their length is equal to the shorter ones.”130 This is similar to the comfortable arch of the hand advocated by Diruta, in which the arched middle fingers form a straight line with the little finger and thumb.

Preparing to Play

37

Pasquali advises the player to bend the three middle fingers and to keep the outer fingers upon the keys, but he does not go into detail. He mentions the fingernails twice, pointing out that they should be kept short and hidden from the performer’s view, although neither of his comments tells us just how much to curve the fingers: The points of all the fingers and thumb should always be held over the keys, whether they play or rest, which will occasion the three longest fingers to be so bent, that the performer cannot see the nails of them. This is the true position of the fingers. . . . The nails should always be kept so short as not to touch the keys.131

John Baptist Samber, in his Manuductio ad organum (1702), favors curving the middle fingers and developing finger independence. He describes a hand position that has a natural arch, one neither too forced nor relaxed: Concerning the body, hands, and fingers: how the beginner places himself . . . holding the fingers neither too straight nor too curved . . . also, do not support them high in the air, but rather always let them be held over the keyboard.132

We recall Saint-Lambert’s statement: “There is nothing freer in playing the harpsichord than the position of the fingers. . . . The convenience of the player is the first rule that must be followed; gracefulness is the second.”133 Contrasted with this comment is his description of a hand position that I feel causes unnecessary effort and muscle tension. His position includes “having the fingers curved and all arranged at the same level based on the length of the thumb.”134 Does he intend the middle fingertips to be brought so far inward as to be parallel with the thumb? If so, this takes more force than allowing them to fall naturally and form a slight arch, as the middle fingers rest farther into the keys than the thumb and little finger. Jacques Duphly (1765) favors a natural curve of the hand and promotes equal use of each finger. The perfection of the fingers consists in general of a movement that is soft, light, and regular. The movement of the fingers stems from their root; that is to say, at the joint which is attached to the hand. The fingers must be curved naturally, and each one must have its own independent movement.135

Rameau draws our attention to the position of the outer fingers as they rest toward the fronts of the keys. Notice that he says the other fingers arch naturally to the “necessary extent” and not “parallel to the thumb and little finger”:

38

Historical Harpsichord Technique When the thumb and little finger rest on the edge of the keys, they make it necessary for the other fingers to curve, so that these [fingers] may also rest on the edge of the keys. However, as stated earlier, by dropping the hand, the fingers curl naturally to the necessary extent and need not be extended nor curled any further, except in certain cases where it is absolutely necessary.136

In Code de musique pratique, he writes: Imagine your fingers to be set into your hand like elastic metal springs fastened into a small iron bar, with joints that allow them perfect freedom of action . . . the hand must remain inert and the wrist as flexible as possible, so that the fingers can benefit from their own movement, developing facility and equality of strength. With this position, place the five fingers upon five consecutive keys, where the thumb is further up on its own key, the fingernail outside, almost up to its first joint, while the other fingers fall down perpendicularly upon their respective keys, doing so with their own weight, rounding themselves of their own accord without tension, the little finger less round than the others since it is the smallest.137

Carl August Thielo, author of a Danish treatise entitled Tanker og Regler fra Grunden af om Musiken (1746), describes the role of the thumb in proper hand formation. From his recommended position of the thumb, it is clear that he often uses the first finger as a pivot. From the very beginning of playing the keyboard, the student must accustom oneself to keeping the fingers [more] curved than straight. . . . In regard to the use of the thumb, make sure the thumb is held very near the index finger; indeed, the thumb, while playing, moves mostly under the index finger. Get used to using the thumb, and not (as some of the old keyboard masters taught) to play with only the other four fingers.138

Marpurg writes as though he has seen plenty of poor hand positions. His thoughts on proper curvature keep the hand in one general position, with fingers remaining relaxed and curved: One should not make any forceful movements and frightful leaps with the hands, nor bring the fingers out of their curved position, sometimes stretching them out or contracting them; nor force any fingers down from the keyboard next to the palms of the hand, leaving another lying stretched out on a key like a pointer; nor sometimes slide carelessly over the keys, only to thrash them at other times rather than depressing them [properly].139

Preparing to Play

39

Figure 1.3. Aerial view of hands being placed upon the keys. The fingers do not line up completely parallel to one another but instead have a natural, subtle arch to them. The palms form a gentle curvature. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

Johann Christian Bach and Francesco-Pasquale Ricci instruct the player to avoid placing two thumbs on one key at the same time. They also suggest a slight arch of the hand, independence of finger motion, and keeping the hand and fingers close to the keys: The two hands [should be placed] on the keyboard in a manner that does not hinder either [hand]; this obliges one to exclude one thumb; the other fingers are spaced at the distance of the key widths and slightly curved over them, each finger having its own independent movement. . . . One must raise the whole hand as little as possible.140

As with any of this information, we should not interpret these descriptions literally. Likewise, it is imperative to remember that every hand is shaped differently and that the natural hand position when at rest upon the keys is subject to change, with the fingers being more curved or extended than at other times. A natural curvature of my own hand is shown in figure 1.3.

2 Touching the Instrument• • Warm-up Exercises As in most disciplines of the performing arts, physical and mental preparedness is beneficial to the process of learning pieces and perfecting one’s craft. For harpsichordists, this preparation includes exercising the hands both away from and at the keyboard. We recall Couperin’s suggestion to pull the fingers and stretch the hands before touching the keys.1 Players can do this alone or have someone else do it for them. In addition to general stretches done while standing, sitting, or lying on the floor, the shoulders may be lifted up and down, first tightening the muscles and then relaxing them upon the release downward. To loosen the neck, which is a major source of locked tension for many people, the head may be moved forward and back, from side to side, and in slow circular motions. This loosens the muscles and helps release tension from the body. After stretching, Couperin tells us to progress to short exercises at the keyboard: I always have my students play brief finger exercises, either running or arpeggiated passages, beginning with the simplest ones and in the easiest keys; and gradually leading them to the fastest and most transposed ones. You cannot have too many of these little exercises.2

Not only do unhurried exercises warm up and limber the fingers, but they also quietly draw in the senses, enabling more mental focus and aural awareness from the player, differentiated from the often busy and noisy sphere 40

Touching the Instrument

41

Example 2.1. Miller, Institutes, evolutions, chap. 10.

that lies beyond the sacred space of the practice room. Warm-up exercises also serve to sensitize the keyboardist to the requisite touch at a particular instrument, with which one may or may not be familiar. In L’art de toucher le clavecin, Couperin devotes six pages to “Progressions or short exercises to form the hands.”3 He employs the term evolutions to signify that these exercises are intended to improve one’s technique over time through a gradual increase of skill. He also provides “Little preliminary and essential exercises to arrive at playing well.” 4 He gives these exercises in C major only, but mentions that they “should be practiced in every key.”5 Edward Miller also uses the word evolutions in his 1780 treatise Institutes of Music.6 He provides seven examples over which is written: “Of different

42


Example 2.2. Miller, Institutes, chap. 9.

Evolutions, and the manner of contracting the Fingers.” They progress in speed from eighth notes to triplets and sixteenths. He uses a fingering system in which the thumb is assigned a + sign, the index finger is 1, the middle finger is 2, and so on. He provides fingerings for all of them, as seen in example 2.1. He also presents the simple exercises shown in example 2.2, which should be practiced with both hands (together or separately) and in different keys. Marpurg advises: One should begin to prepare the fingers for greater undertakings, using many types of small exercises. Once such exercises are under control, one may advance further. It is not sufficient to exercise the fingers in certain [passages from actual pieces].7

Like Couperin, Marpurg gives a series of exercises called “Little progressions appropriate for forming the hand” (Petites evolutions propres à former la main). At least six of his exercises are derived from Couperin’s examples.8 Several of Marpurg’s musical examples quote from J. S. Bach’s keyboard pieces.9 From Forkel’s biography, we learn that J. S. Bach gave his students exercises for at least half a year before supplying them with pieces to play. These isolated exercises, which are unfortunately lost, taught his students how to develop independence and dexterity of the fingers. Forkel reflects on Bach’s teaching method:


43

First of all let me explain how he taught keyboard. To begin, his students were encouraged to acquire the special touch of which I have already spoken. To do this, for months he made them practice nothing but simple finger exercises in both hands, with emphasis on the need for clear and precise playing. He gave them these exercises for six to twelve months, unless he felt that his students were losing interest, in which case he would compose short pieces, which served to elucidate specific technical concepts. These include the Six Little Preludes for Beginners and the Fifteen TwoPart Inventions, both of which Bach wrote during a lesson for a particular student, later improving them into beautiful and expressive compositions. Besides this finger practice, in exercises as well as in actual pieces composed for the purpose, Bach taught his students how to play various ornaments in both hands.10

Türk emphasizes the practicing of ornaments as a good way to warm up for practice. In particular, he discusses trills: The trill must be practiced diligently in the very first lessons. In the very beg inning it must be executed slowly and only gradually more rapidly, but in such a manner that the pupil will play both keys with equal strength and rapidity, without lifting the fingers too high, for with beginners the upper note of the trill is generally weaker and faster than the low one. Those who do not practice the trill at all in the beginning and only rarely afterwards will scarcely be able to master it well subsequently; it will always remain a bleating sound. Many an otherwise fine keyboard player can provide audible proof of this.11

Türk does not specify when, exactly, to introduce trills, but it is sound advice to practice them early, at least as one of the core principles to be taught within the first year, but this depends also on the skill and readiness of the player. Certainly, when introducing ornaments, the trill should be among the first embellishments that a student learns. Türk also advises keyboardists to practice slowly at first: Granted the necessity and beauty of velocity in playing the keyboard, it can nevertheless be harmful to the beginner when required of him too soon. For generally clarity suffers, certain tones will imperceptibly be skipped, and correct fingering will be neglected, among other abuses.12

Saint-Lambert shows similar interest in the value of including trills in one’s exercises. He shares this perspective on practicing them with all the fingers:

44

Historical Harpsichord Technique Masters of the harpsichord have established the practice of only playing tremblements [trills] with the fingers indicated in this chapter, but when they made this rule they assuredly did not give it enough thought. They should have considered that fingers can never be too agile and that nothing makes them more supple than the tremblement. Thus they should have established the practice of making tremblements with all the fingers of each hand, even with the little finger and the thumb. . . . For if one examines all the capable masters in Paris, one will discover that those who distinguish themselves the most by beauty of touch and sureness of execution are those who make use of all their fingers equally well, by having accustomed themselves early to exercising them all equally.13

Couperin also finds the practicing of trills a good exercise: It will be very useful to have young people practice trills with all the fingers, but, as that depends partly on the natural condition [of the hand], and as people have different amounts of flexibility and strength in certain fingers, this choice must be left to their teachers.14

Rameau’s section entitled “De la mechanique des doigts sur le clavessin,” which is also known as the preface to his Pièces de clavecin (1724), also aims to establish finger independence and equality of motion. It is worth quoting several of his rules from his section “Concerning the Technique of the Fingers on the Harpsichord”: (1) Perfection of touch on the harpsichord consists mainly in well-managed movement of the fingers. (2) This movement can be acquired by a simple technique, but one has to know how to use it. (3) This technique is nothing other than the frequent practice of a regular movement: the skills which it requires are natural to everyone—much the same as in walking, or, if you prefer, in running. (4) The faculty of walking or running comes from the agility of the knee; playing the harpsichord depends on the suppleness of the fingers at their roots. (5) The continual exercise in walking gives everyone nearly the same free movement of the knee. In contrast, our lack of practice of the finger movements necessary to play the harpsichord does not allow the fingers liberty to develop; moreover, our particular [bad] habits cause the fingers to develop movements so contrary to those needed to play harpsichord that this liberty is constantly inhibited. . . .


45

(8) The result, therefore, of all these observations is that frequent and well-managed practice is, to me, essential for perfect technique on the harpsichord, and it is from [this principle] that I have created a particular method of renewing in the fingers the movement granted to them by Nature, and of augmenting its liberty. . . . (19) Each finger must have its own movement, independent of the others, so that, even when the hand must move to another part of the keyboard, it is still essential for the finger then used to drop onto the key by its own movement. . . . (24) Remember to make every finger operate by its own movement, and make sure that the finger that releases a key always remains so close that it appears to be touching it. . . . (26) Observe equality of movement among all the fingers and, above all, never rush these movements, for lightness and speed are acquired only through this evenness of movement; and it is often the case that by rushing, we lose that which we are seeking. (27) One must try to attain the required movement in the fingers, and to give to each one its own particular movement before putting their strength to the test; I suggest that in the beginning, [the fingers] only be placed on the keyboard to become used to the spacing between the keys. However, as at the start one has trouble moving every finger independently, the added burden of trying to press the keys might destroy the perfection of their movement.15

Rameau encourages the reader to practice his finger exercises and other musical examples repeatedly and with equality of finger motion.16 He also says that the exercises should be practiced with hands separately at first and then with hands together when the skill has been mastered in each hand.17 C. P. E. Bach recommends that children be trained to stretch their hands and extend their fingers: It is self-evident that the relaxation of the tendons and the curving of the fingers cannot be maintained in leaps and wide stretches. . . . One should habituate the hands (as yet not fully grown) of children particularly, so that instead of springing up and down with the entire hand . . . they stretch the hands as much as possible when necessary.18

I doubt Bach is worried here about overstretching children’s hands; it is more likely that he intends to keep children from letting their hands leap around the keyboard closed and their fingers curved too far inward or clumped to-

46


gether (auf einem Klumpen zusammen gezogen). His advocacy of stretching children’s hands may also aim to improve their strength and prepare them for more difficult pieces in which they have to stretch the hand for bigger chords, such as multi-voiced fugues, or wider leaps. Bach notes: “All stretches, the omission of certain fingers, the substitution of one finger for another on a note, even the indispensable crossing of the fingers and turning of the thumb demand this elastic ability.”19 Elasticity involves a temporary tension in which the muscles are flexed, then a return to a relaxed state.20 Nassarre attributes success at the keyboard to devoted practice: The main way to achieve a fine technique is to practice often. . . . If practice is infrequent, the fingers will accomplish little, and if there is much practice, then the success will be great. However, there are some students who, with less effort than others, attain a better technique. This is due to their natural, flexible tendons, their youth, or their strong constitutions. Those who need more practice are all those who have less flexibility in the tendons, are of a weak constitution, or have begun lessons later in life. This natural defect has no other way of being overcome than by deeply immersing oneself in study.21

We see from the many quotations that how one prepares to play is just as important as the compositions that one practices. In addition to good practice pieces, warm-up exercises (preexistent or self-composed) can be an enjoyable part of the creative process for both teacher and student. Since these exercises are usually easy to memorize, I advise experimenting from time to time with a lowered music stand, so that the sounds coming forth from the harpsichord can be heard better. The music, when upright, actually blocks the sound from reaching the player. By lowering the music desk (or removing it altogether), both the fingers and the ears can benefit from warm-up exercises and tune in to the qualities of touch and sounds coming from the instrument. This is also helpful when playing pieces, not just exercises. Lowering or removing the music stand also requires the player to memorize music, or at least in part, since it is not easy to read the music when it is lying flat. Traditionally, harpsichord playing relies less on memorization in performance, but it is nonetheless a useful skill, whether or not one uses the score in an actual concert. I also encourage the occasional practice of playing with the eyes closed or in the dark, as taught by C. P. E. Bach: “In order to become oriented at the keyboard . . . it is a good practice to play memorized pieces in the dark.”22 This may be done with warm-up exercises as well as with actual pieces.


47

Touching the Keys Terminology used in discussing harpsichord playing may differ from that for other keyboard instruments, especially the piano. In my experience, pianists often say that they “play” or “strike” the keys, whereas harpsichordists “touch” them. The difference in terminology may seem small but is nonetheless significant. Perhaps harpsichordists say they “touch” the keys because it has a more intimate, sensory connotation than “hit” or “strike.” Harpsichordists learn to develop their touch so that they increase the intimate connection with the plectra and strings. The following sections deal with various historical perspectives pertaining to the manner in which the fingers touch the keys when playing harpsichord. Baroque treatises abound with descriptions of fingers remaining in contact with the harpsichord keys. Although they reveal, at times, differences of opinion about the speed of “attack” in how quickly or how slowly the plectrum should pluck the string (if they say anything at all about that specifically), the sources do share the perspective of touching the keys from as close a position as possible (if not directly depressing them at all times). Couperin credits this close connection as being directly related to la douceur du toucher: The delicacy [sweetness or refinement] of touch depends once again on holding the fingers as close as possible to the keys. It makes sense to believe (experience aside) that a hand that falls from higher up gives a dryer stroke than if it touches from nearby; and that the quill produces a harsher sound from the string.23

Writing over a century earlier, Diruta, who is writing primarily about the organ, has sound advice for harpsichordists, who need close contact between finger and key: Finally, the fingers must press rather than strike the key, lifting [the finger] only as much as the key rises. Even if these instructions seem of little or no significance, one should have the highest regard for the help they bring: they ensure that the harmony turns out pleasant and smooth and that the organist is not hampered in his playing.24

Diruta also warns the keyboardist not to raise the fingers too high when playing faster, more ornate figures: On playing diminutions . . . remember how to carry the hand in line with the arm, somewhat cupped, with the fingers curved or together, so that none

48

Historical Harpsichord Technique is higher than the other, nor stiff, nor lying over another, or drawing back, or striking the keys [at the wrong time]. Let the arm guide the hand, the hand and arm staying in line with the key being played, the fingers playing cleanly, not pressing a key before the previous one has lifted up. Be careful not to raise the fingers too much, and above all, carry the hand alert and light.25

Over and over again, I have observed, both in my own playing and in that of students and harpsichordists in general, that when the key is struck from above and not from close by, the tone is drastically diminished.26 When a key is played too quickly from on high, sometimes the pitch is barely audible. This often occurs when a finger has darted upon the note and left it too quickly, as if it were too hot to touch. This tends to happen in fast, technically advanced pieces that require rapid hand crossing or large leaps, but it can occur elsewhere as well. When passages like these are played from the point at which the finger feels the plectrum ready to pluck the string, the tone is vastly improved. Nassarre discusses aspects of depressing the keys that pertain to the touch required for beautiful playing at the harpsichord: There are some players who press the keys so little they are hardly audible, others in whose diminutions we hear rests from note to note that are more than the [value of the] notes sounding themselves, others who play with such force that they sometimes destroy the keyboards, and others, who at the moment of laying down the finger [on the key] rock the key violently from one side to the other, which is often the cause of keys that stick. . . . Regarding the pressing of the keys, the pedagogy that masters should follow with beginners should be that at the moment of depressing [the key], it is only the finger which moves; for some not only move the hand but also the arm. Others, [in an effort] to remove the fingers from the keys, lift the hand, and this movement is superfluous, for it is enough to move the fingers. For this reason Nature gave the ability to move them without requiring them to move the hand.27

He adds: It is also important that the pressing of the keys, in whatever music is played, be natural and not forced. Some lift the hands from the keyboard too much. Others apply such force to the fingers that you hear the striking of the keys more than the sound of the notes, and others press with such softness that they do not sufficiently press the keys in order to form the sounds properly. Those who lift the hands play in a most improper manner, for as they lift the hands more and more from the keyboard, greater will be the interval of time


49

from sound to sound, which robs the notes of their correct value of time, and in this way [the player] will not give the proper character to the music. Those who make a habit of adding force to the fingers when playing upon the keys make it impossible to play diminutions quickly, because this causes their hands to tire quickly. Though they justify this as a means of performing well on those organs that have heavy keyboard [action], it is not a convincing reason; because the force that they apply is more excessive than that which is necessary to lower the keys, no matter how heavy the action.28 . . . Neither the hands nor the fingers should ever be lifted [high above] the keys—only enough to stop the keys from sounding in such a manner that one can barely perceive the interval of time from sound to sound.29 This should not be done so powerfully that the fingers are forceful. Rather, one should employ the least amount of effort needed to lower a key. . . . There are some students who naturally have a heavier hand or have more strength in it. These [individuals] can, by applying less force [or weight], apply the right amount of energy needed to play the keys. Others, in contrast, being weak, need to use their strength more efficiently by applying the right amount of pressure, and they may practice this until it becomes habitual. Thus will individuals learn to control more efficiently [and equally] the amount of pressure applied to the keys, regardless of finger strength.30

The purpose of maintaining contact with the keys is to be in control of the point at which the plectra pluck the strings. If the fingers are held high above the keys, they are nowhere near this plucking point. That said, not only do the fingers need to be touching the keys, but they should also depress the keys ever so slightly, enough to feel the resistance of the quill and string against the finger. It is important to touch the key fast enough to get the quill to pluck the string. When playing more than one set of strings, this is especially important, so that the strings of the same sounding pitch (or an octave higher, if the four-foot is engaged) sound simultaneously. Finding the exact point on which to remain in contact with the keys is a subtlety that develops over time and depends a lot upon the tempo. Once the quill has plucked the string, the finger, no matter how long it needs to remain on the key, must relax immediately and avoid pushing the key to the bottom of the key bed, which among other disadvantages may result in a percussive, wooden sound. Resting on the string with too much weight or pressure may also cause the quill to pluck the string and elicit a “ghost” sound. In Forkel’s biography, we read that J. S. Bach’s fingers “were in immediate contact with the keys.”31 Saint-Lambert says that in scale passages “the fingers should neither be raised too high nor allowed to rest too heavily on

50


the keys.”32 Rameau says, “Remember to move each finger by its own individual movement, and see that the finger that releases a key always stays so close that it seems to touch it.”33 Recalling his perspective on the position of the forearms and hands of a beginning student, as mentioned in chapter 1, the hands should be “glued to the keyboard,” allowing the player’s touch “the utmost connection” to the keys.34 As for the manner in which players should touch the keys: The fingers must fall onto the keys and not hit them; moreover, they must flow [glide], so to speak, from one to the other when playing successive notes, which should give you some idea of how gently one has to go about it from the beginning.35

As every harpsichord is different, keyboardists should take care to familiarize themselves with every harpsichord they play. The plectra on any given instrument may not be voiced regularly nor voiced like another instrument of the same style. The key dip will be different as well. When touching the keys, it is important to gauge the resistance of the quills against the string and how strongly or weakly they pluck. Harpsichords need to be regulated quite frequently; it is prudent to learn some basic harpsichord maintenance skills or to ask a professional to work on one’s instrument so that the action and voicing are to one’s taste. Keeping the fingers in contact with the keys may be challenging at first, especially when coming from a modern piano background. To alleviate this problem, teachers may opt to emulate the Baroque practice of placing a stick (such as a small ruler or a pen) on the hand to keep the fingers from flying upwards and to maintain a calm hand position. The teacher may also hold down students’ fingers gently if they fly upward. This helps to retrain the fingers and relax the muscles. The only drawback to this practice is that it does not allow for much flexibility in wrist motion, which is necessary for supple playing and relaxation. One advocate for this practice is Marpurg, who suggests a piece of metal be put on the fingers: Today one does not strike the keyboard instrument, one plays it . . . ; however, no matter how wary one is of heavy blows on the keys, one also must not slide down indolently over them so that the strings do not produce the proper sound. In the beginning, a little piece of lead may be placed upon the hands of pupils in order to accustom them to this. If the lead remains there, it is proof that the movement is uniform.36


51

Le Gallois (ca. 1680) describes the French harpsichord master Chambon nières: Everyone knows that this illustrious man excelled above others as much because of the pieces he composed as because of his having been the originator of that beautiful style of playing in which he revealed a brilliance and a legato37 so well controlled and managed from one note to the next that it would have been impossible to do better. It is well known that besides skill and precision, he had a delicate skill [lit. delicatesse vs. douceur] of the hand that others lacked: so that if he played a chord, and another imitated him, one would perceive a great difference; and the reason for it is, as I have said, that he had dexterity and a way of applying his fingers to the keys which was unknown to others.38

Further in his Lettre he says: It is made evident from all that we have said that although there are among the various masters different manners of playing, it is nevertheless true to say that some of these manners are more excellent than others; and likewise there is one that rises above all others, because it is the most natural, the most delicate, the most precise, and as a consequence the most agreeable; and such a one is that of Chambonnières.39

Le Gallois remarks that when less successful harpsichordists play the notes, they either “pass over them too quickly,” or “they do not press the keys [hard] enough to make the notes heard,” or “they hit the keys instead of [letting them] flow [from one note to the next].” 40 He observes others with faults of the opposite kind: But if the brilliant style of playing has its faults, the flowing style also has its own, which are easy to observe in those in whom affectation greatly impedes the flow of their playing. For they make such great contortions of the hands and fingers, they raise them one over another with such excess, and stiffen them in an extraordinary manner, that the result is distasteful and pitiful.41

He idolizes both Chambonnières and Louis Couperin,42 the two founts from which others’ styles are derived. He gives due praise to Louis’s brother Charles and of course his nephew François, granting them status among the finest living harpsichordists. As mentioned in my introduction, Le Gallois asserts that Chambonnières and Louis Couperin moved listeners in different ways—“One touched

52


the heart, the other touched the ear.” 43 Le Gallois describes Chambonnières’ playing as “more natural, more delicate, more tidy, and consequently more delightful.” 44 He was “the source of the beautiful approach to touch,” the “beautiful and agreeable manner” that made him a perfect model.45 He had “knowledge and brilliance” and “a delicacy of the hand that others did not have . . . a way of holding [the hand] and a way of pressing down the fingers on the keys that was unknown to the others.” 46 In short, Le Gallois describes not just a manner or a “way,” but a highly personalized and refined art, a language expressed through la douceur du toucher.

Gravity It is important not to confuse the concept of keeping the fingers in “contact with the keys” with that of finger weight or gravity. Gravity plays a major role in sound production on the piano, in that more weight or force on the keys produces louder dynamics. Harpsichord touch resists hand or arm weight falling into the keys. Instead, the arm holds up the hand, which acts as a support to the fingers. This does not mean that the arm is held in a stiff position; instead, when the finger falls, the hand, wrist, and arm follow the movement instigated by the fingers. The fingers, in turn, remain poised on the keys, ready to drop further into them. Only in this sense does gravity play a role by way of the fingers falling downward. But as the finger falls into the key, the quill rises to pluck the string—the imagery involved is technically an upward one. This manner of touching the harpsichord is documented in several treatises of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Rameau informs us: Never let the touch of your fingers be weighed down by your hand. Conversely, let it be your hand, which, by supporting your fingers, makes their touch lighter; this is of utmost importance.47

Mersenne, writing nearly a century earlier, compares the sound of a harpsichord when played delicately with that of a plucked instrument: Now it must be further observed that the lightness of the hand is very different from its speed, for many have a very fast hand that is nevertheless quite heavy, as the hardness and roughness of their playing will testify. Now those who have this lightness of hand may be called absolute masters of their hands and fingers, which they let weigh as little on the keys as they wish so as to soften the tone of the spinet, as is common with that of the lute.48


53

John Parsons addresses both approach and release of the keys by letting the fingers fall with their own weight: The hand should be poised above the keys, so that the thumb may easily pass under the fingers to change the position. . . . No weight of the hand or arm should bear on the keys and every finger should be put down, with an elastic spring, and be recovered from them in the same manner. The thumb should be put down with a spring from the joint of it only.49

Forkel describes Bach’s technique as allowing for the fingers never “to fall or (as so often happens) be thrown upon the notes, but placed upon [the notes] in full control of the force they may be called on to exert.”50 Friedrich Konrad Griepenkerl, writing well into the nineteenth century, is one of the few to mention arm weight at the keyboard from a positive standpoint if we apply it to harpsichord technique: The mechanism of the hand is based upon its ability to grasp. In grasping, all of the fingers bend themselves together with the thumb into the palm of the hand, and by this motion reveal all of their innate force and security. . . . Every operation that the hand can accomplish by this motion succeeds in doing so with ease, freedom, and security, since the operation corresponds to the hands’ natural inclination. . . . The inequality of the fingers as regards strength and flexibility, however, makes yet another artistic resource necessary . . . in overcoming the natural obstacle inherent in the weakness of the fourth and fifth fingers. J. S. Bach found this resource in the use of the weight of the hand and arm, which anyone may maintain with ease and at will, either at the same degree or at a greater or lesser degree of effort. No finger is too weak to serve as the point of support for this weight; the fourth and fifth fingers may bear it to the same degree as the second and third and may transmit it to the keys with equal amount of effort, insofar as the elasticity inherent in each finger is brought into use. The most intimate connection of this elasticity with the weight of the hand in the pressing of the keys is therefore the most vital component in the entire technique of keyboard performance according to Bach’s method.51

This type of gravity, as it were, may be interpreted as a shifting of the hand’s balance point to assist the fingers, when necessary. In context, it might serve well when the weaker fingers momentarily pause on a particular note. Rather than stretching or flexing the fingers and keeping the hand in one rigidly fixed position, the whole hand shifts its weight over the note being

54


Figure 2.1. Inner view of right hand shifting its weight onto the little finger. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

Figure 2.2. Outer view of right hand shifting its weight onto the little finger. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.


55

played by the weaker fingers. This will inevitably cause a brief contraction or slight turning of the hand. The hand follows the fingers, much like a ballerina’s hand gestures gracefully change as she moves in different directions. Figures 2.1 and 2.2 show how my right hand looks when shifting its weight onto the finger that is playing the note. Notice in these photos how the hand is poised over one note. The hand is not falling heavily onto the key, but is suspended over it. Teachers may assist students who have too low or heavy a hand or arm at the keyboard by gently pressing upwards from under their wrist(s) with one finger or the length of a pencil. This will help them find the balance point of the finger without dropping the weight of their hand, wrist, or arm.

Stroking the Keys There are various descriptions in early writings of the motions of the fingers as they play the keys. A few depict a perpendicular motion. Others explain a touch that strokes the keys in a movement that glides, peels, or draws backward from the fingertip to the palm. This is sometimes referred to as the “scratch technique” in modern circles; however, this term is only half accurate, since scratching is usually done with the very tips of the fingers, if not the fingernails. The technique as it applies to the harpsichord is performed with the fleshy, softer part of the fingertips, allowing for the very top part of the fingertips to stroke the keys only at the final part of the motion and subsequently toward the fronts (or edges) of the keys. Proof of this stroking (or gliding) method is found on several historical instruments, both harpsichords and early pianos, on which the keys are worn down at their edges, as opposed to the middle only, where perpendicular motion would situate the fingers (see figures 2.3–2.5). Notice in figure 2.5 how the motion of the fingers has created a sloped indentation on the keys. Stroking and perpendicular motion feel extremely different from one another, but they are not mutually exclusive. They need to be combined according to the character and speed of the music, as well as the acoustics of the instrument. Furthermore, the two manners may coincide with the different steps involved in playing a note—the vertical part necessary for the dropping of the finger into the key, and the horizontal motion for the release

56


Figure 2.3. Late eighteenth- or early nineteenth-century English spinet by Astor & Company, with worn key edges. Arequipa, Peru. Convent of Santa Catalina. Photo by Stanley Ritchie.

(as opposed to a directly vertical release of the key). This manner of stroking the keys produces sparkling and brilliant effects in fast passages, as well as lush, sonorous shades of overlapping tone and color in slower sections. In such slow, legato passages, this technique may feel like a loving caress upon the instrument. As early as 1565, Sancta Maria mentions the stroking of the keys through a gliding motion when he discusses the upper mordent as a type of quiebro, a Spanish ornament containing two tones—the main note, the one above it, and the return to the main note: The finger that plays the first note should not be raised from the key after having depressed it, but it should remain on it, and the finger that plays the second note should be removed from the key by sliding across it, like someone scratching, and the finger that plays the first note should press a little in the key pushing it well down.52


Figure 2.4. Side view of key edges. Arequipa, Peru. Convent of Santa Catalina. Photo by Lourdes and Andrea Arias Grupp.

Figure 2.5. Side view of keys. Arequipa, Peru. Convent of Santa Catalina. Photo by Lourdes and Andrea Arias Grupp.

57

58


Example 2.3. C. P. E. Bach, Versuch, “Schnellen,” fig. 162.

Although the phrase “well down” reminds us that he is writing more for clavichord, the sliding motion is nonetheless applicable on the harpsichord. He adds: The finger that plays the highest note of the redoble and the quiebro should always play nearer the end of the key than the adjacent finger with which the ornament ends. Furthermore, from the beginning of repeated redobles and quiebros, that finger should gradually be drawn further and further out until it is completely withdrawn from the key at the end of the ornament, which is why the finger which ends the ornament ends up at the edge of the key although it began further in, which is necessary if the redobles and the quiebros are to end crisply and cleanly.53

When Sancta Maria’s technique is executed on harpsichord, it allows the quill to return below the string to repluck it for the final note. In other words, the finger that plays the second note uses the sliding or scratching method for a quick release, unlike the main notes upon which the ornament is built. C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch (nearly two hundred years after Sancta Maria’s treatise) contains roughly twenty references to the technique of playing these ornaments (Schnellen in German), onto many of which he applies the gliding technique in highly contrasted contexts (see example 2.3). He combines techniques that use both stiff finger strokes and geschnellte (darted or snapped) notes. Like Sancta Maria’s explanations, most are appropriate for the harpsichord, others more for the clavichord. He describes the ornament as “a quick retraction, which occurs when each finger slides off the key as rapidly as possible so that every tone may be distinctly heard.” He adds, “After the stroke, the upper joint of the finger is sharply doubled and drawn off and away from the key as quickly as possible.” For fast, repeated notes, he suggests alternating two fingers, referring to “the necessary quick retraction that occurs when a finger leaves a key as rapidly as possible, so that every new tone may be clearly heard.”54


59

Forkel describes this very technique as portrayed by J. S. Bach. He praises this technique to the utmost because it creates a “brilliant, rolling, and round” sound: The finger must not be raised perpendicularly from the key, but must glide off the forepart of the key, by gradually drawing back the tip of the finger towards the palm of the hand. . . . In the transition from one key to another, this gliding off causes the quantity of force or pressure with which the first tone has been kept up to be transferred with the greatest rapidity to the next finger, so that the two tones are neither disjoined from each other nor blended together . . . the drawing back of the tips of the fingers and the rapid communication, thereby effected, of the force of one finger to that following it produces the highest degree of clearness in the attack of the single tones, so that every passage performed in this manner sounds brilliant, rolling, and round, as if each tone were a pearl. . . . by the gliding of the tip of the finger upon the key with an equable pressure, sufficient time is given to the string to vibrate; the tone, therefore, is not only improved, but also prolonged, and we are thus enabled to play in a singing style and with proper connection.55

In other words, when sufficient time is given to the string to vibrate, the damper falls at the last minute, so the tone is not cut off abruptly. Forkel does not say at which point the finger drawing back would actually be aligned with the inactive fingers. But he does claim that the sliding fingertip “and the consequently rapid transmission of regulated force from one finger to another tend to bring out each note clearly and to make every passage sound uniformly brilliant and distinct to the hearer without exertion.”56 Griepenkerl, in a discussion about Bach’s keyboard technique, teaches: Let one finger be placed upon a key and serve as the point of support for a finely adjusted weight of the arm, not stiffly or rigidly, but with the express intent of pulling [the finger] backward so that it instantly might be drawn in toward the hand. . . . This position is impossible unless the wrist firmly supports the hand and maintains itself at the same height as the knuckles on the upper side of the hand . . . whoever now is able to accomplish what I have just been describing with all the fingers of both hands in every situation, with the fingers either in normal or extended positions, and in all possible varieties of loudness and softness, speed or slowness, staccato and slurring—all these with finesse and security and without additional bodily exertion—whoever can do this possesses the method of performance taught by J. S. Bach, as Forkel possessed it, and as many have learned from him.57

60


Johann Joachim Quantz describes a stroking technique in his Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (1752). His horizontal finger motion aims to improve tone quality and to increase the speed of articulation. Running passages sound brilliant and clear but still maintain their roundness. Whether you strike one finger more forcefully than another is very important. This may happen if you have accustomed yourself to curve some fingers inwards while extending others straight forward, a habit that not only causes inequality in the force of your playing, but is also obstructive to the round, distinct, and agreeable execution of quick passagework. As a result, many persons sound as if they were literally stumbling over the notes if they have to produce a run of several step-wise notes. If you accustom yourself at the very beginning to curving all the fingers inwards, each one as far as the others, you are less likely to make this mistake. In the performance of these running passages, however, you must not raise the fingers immediately after striking the key, but rather draw the tips of the fingers back towards yourself to the foremost part of the key, until they glide away from it. Running passages are produced most distinctly in this manner. I appeal here to the example of the greatest of all players on the keyboard, who practiced and taught this way.58

The only caveat in applying Quantz’s suggestion is that the harpsichordist needs to make sure not to curve the fingers too much at the beginning. If the arch is too excessive, the fingers will have nowhere to go and thus will not be able to use his recommended release toward the palm. When done correctly (i.e., in moderation), this technique produces sparkling, distinct running passages. Three sources from the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries give testimony to the release toward the palm for clear, articulate passagework. These later sources represent a continuation and transfer of this particular harpsichord technique to the fortepiano. Löhlein’s Clavierschule suggests that in five-finger exercises, especially in rapid sections, the fingers should never be lifted upwards but should be “drawn towards the inner part of the hand . . . with a gentle sliding action along the keys.”59 For fast, clearly articulated passages, Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1820) explains that the fingers should “be hurried away from the keys very lightly and in an inward direction.” 60 A. E. Müller and Carl Czerny both recommend a “scratching” or “tearing” motion for fast scale passages.61 Ruth Nurmi, in A Plain & Easy Introduction to Harpsichord (1974 and 1986), describes at least two basic types of touch as they pertain to the release


61

Figure 2.6. Index finger stroking the keys. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

of the key.62 She calls one an “instant release” and the other a “gradual release.” According to Nurmi, the instant release (a vertical or near vertical down-andup stroke) is the only kind of release possible in fast passages, “whether legato or articulated.” She also states that the gradual release “is not a part of the legato touch, nor is it used in fast passages.” She also suggests that the gradual release may be done with three separate types of motions: (1) a lifting motion when making an instant release more slowly, (2) a rolling motion, in which the wrists rotate as weight shifts from finger to finger, and (3) an elliptical motion that is the same movement needed for the gliding or scratching technique. These descriptions are highly useful for harpsichordists, but I disagree with the limitation she places on their application. Although this elliptical, rounder technique is not the only method for touching the harpsichord, it may benefit nearly all musical contexts and tempos, especially if one is adept and facile enough. Furthermore, it does not need to stand apart from other techniques. The fingers may peel back toward the palm while the wrist gently rotates, as seen in figures 2.6 and 2.7.

62


Figure 2.7. Middle finger stroking the keys. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

Motion of the Hands and Wrists Baroque treatises offer assorted ideas about the position of the hands and wrists while they are in motion, from a flat, even hand to one that turns slightly outward. In all cases, the treatises encourage the keyboardist to maintain a calm hand and move only those fingers and other muscles that are absolutely necessary. In the Fundamentbuch (written ca. 1520, published posthumously in 1551) Hans Buchner favors a light, facile right hand without arm weight and possibly a quick sideways motion of the hand.63 Regarding the turning of the wrist, Sancta Maria says that in playing long ascending and descending passages, players should “turn the hands toward the direction of the run, raise the third finger higher than the others, and play with it further in on the keys, with the elbow moving away from the body.” 64 Two centuries later, Saint-Lambert, who does not mention anything about the position of the wrist while playing, does discuss the need for a calm hand: The principle to follow is to choose fingers which make the hand move the least, and to that end it is necessary when practicing to look ahead for several


63

measures in a row in order to place the hand in the position necessary for playing them all with grace and agility.65

Similarly, Forkel praises J. S. Bach for his ability to maintain a calm hand position, regardless of the music’s tempo or difficulty: We gather that the action of Bach’s fingers was so slight as to be barely perceptible. Only the top joint seemed to move. His hand preserved its rounded shape even in the most intricate passages. His fingers rested closely upon the keys. . . . An unemployed finger remained in a position of repose. . . . If he wished to express deep emotion he did not strike the notes with great force, as many do, but expressed his feeling in simple melodic and harmonic figures, relying rather on the internal resources of his art than external dynamics. Therein he was right. True emotion is not suggested by hammering the clavier. All that results is that the notes cannot be heard distinctly, much less be connected coherently.66

Burney describes George Frideric Handel’s harpsichord technique as astonishingly subtle and efficient: Indeed, his hand was then so fat, that the knuckles, which usually appear convex, were like those of a child, dinted or dimpled in, so as to be rendered concave; however, his touch was so smooth, and the tone of the instrument so much cherished, that his fingers seemed to grow into the keys. They were so curved and compact when he played that no motion, and scarcely the fingers themselves, could be discovered.67

Rameau encourages finger independence by having a calm hand position and a flexible wrist: Perfection of playing the harpsichord consists chiefly in a well-controlled movement of the fingers. . . . The wrist joint must always be supple. This suppleness, which is then transmitted to the fingers, gives them all the flexibility and lightness that they need.68

It is important for teachers and players to approach the subject of good hand position early on in lessons. By doing so, attention is given to keeping the hand calm—that is to say, void of unnecessary movements that will detract from the freedom and agility of the fingers. The hand and wrist, by being flexible, will follow the fingers and move only when necessary. It is important not to confuse this with a tight hand in which only the fingers move, as though they were typing away at a computer keyboard.

64


Dynamics The production of different tones and shades on the harpsichord is a popular topic among harpsichordists. People often ask, “Can the harpsichord produce dynamics?” The answer is yes and no. Rather than viewing as a flaw the harpsichord’s inability to make the same gradations of volume that a piano does, one may see this issue as an opportunity to explore the musical techniques particular to harpsichord playing. These techniques form a collection of intricate tools that can create a rich palette of dynamic shading and dramatic nuance. Broderip writes, “Expression is produced by regulating the time, to the style of the music, by giving attention to the graces and embellishments, by the touch, and by a judicious management of the tone of the instrument in its different gradations of soft to loud.” 69 Assumedly, he is talking about the harpsichord here, since the title of his method includes both harpsichord and the fortepiano. Couperin finds no flaw in the harpsichord’s lack of overt degrees of dy namics: The harpsichord is a complete instrument by virtue of its range, and sufficient unto itself. However, as one can neither swell nor diminish its sounds, I shall always be grateful to those who, by consummate skill supported by good taste, are able to render this instrument capable of expression.70

Marpurg also gives due praise to the musicians who create dynamic expression: “Skilled artists know how to beguile the ears at the harpsichord, so that we believe we are hearing loud and soft tones, even though the quills produce them with mostly equal force.” 71 Marpurg also states: One should not believe that it makes no difference what manner of treatment the keys of a harpsichord are accorded, or that a distinction in tone may be achieved perhaps only with the flute, because of variety in attack, or with the violin, because of bowing variety. It is true that the intensity on a harpsichord is always the same, no matter whether the keys are struck gently or with such force that one hears the simultaneous knocking of wood. Nevertheless, just as [players’] hands vary, the manner of linking many successive tones varies . . . there may only be one true way of operating the keys . . . as to be pleasing to the ear.72

Although I acknowledge Marpurg’s recognition of talented musicians who masterfully bring forth expression from the harpsichord, I disagree with


65

his perspective on harpsichord dynamics being only an illusion, that we only “believe” we are hearing dynamics, even though “the quills produce [tones] with mostly equal force.” This topic deserves more detailed attention, preferably in scientific experiments connected with live performance. Two of the key ways in which we can produce dynamics on the harpsichord are timing and articulation. I will address these topics in further detail in chapter 3. Suffice it to say here that the resonating length of a note is dependent on how fast the string is plucked and how far the damper falls to cut off the sound. How we initiate the plucking of a string is affected by how quickly or slowly we drop the finger into the key in addition to how aggressively we touch it. The speed of release is also critical, such as in places that require over-legato. By carefully choosing which fingers to use, we may employ varied articulations that range from staccatissimo to over-legato, to bring out certain notes (and chords) over others, and to obscure notes so that they sound softer. Both Quantz and C. P. E. Bach discuss ways to deal with the harpsichord’s alleged “imperfection” (lack of dynamics) by altering the number of parts rather than manipulating the fingers.73 But this method applies to the accompanist playing figured bass. We also should remember that harpsichord was not their primary instrument—Quantz was a flute player, and C. P. E. Bach, although he played the harpsichord, favored the clavichord and the newly emerging fortepiano. In a solo context, Bach recommends changes of registration to produce dynamics: If the lessons are played on a harpsichord with two manuals, only one manual should be used to play detailed changes of forte and piano. It is only when entire passages are differentiated by contrasting shades that a transfer [between manuals] may be made.74

He then provides an example of a bass line with continuo figures in which dissonant chords are marked forte and consonant chords are marked piano.75 Gustav Leonhardt, one of the world’s greatest harpsichordists, poetically states: A good clavichord plays like butter and does everything that you require from it with the greatest willingness—it is like a pilot flying only in good weather—not quite that challenging or rewarding. This is in contrast to its colleagues the harpsichord and organ. Here, one must employ all one’s artistry and tricks to give the impression of dynamic variation. And this is the

66

Historical Harpsichord Technique crux of the matter! Perhaps I love the harpsichord for this very reason, that it stimulates one into the regions of the impossible, to the creation of the illusion. I thrive on this illusion. And apparently, the greatest composers thrived also on it; otherwise they would not have tolerated this undynamic instrument for centuries for the perfections of such exquisitely dynamic music.76

Again, my intention is not to prove scientifically whether or not the harpsichord is capable of producing dynamics or if it is all a trick of the ear and thus some type of musical illusion. I offer the possibility that it is a combination of both. Just as music is both a science and an art, playing beautifully and meaningfully on the harpsichord requires both a high level of technical skill and imaginative artistry. The perfect balance of these qualities renders the harpsichord an expressive, dynamic instrument.

Playing Different Keyboard Instruments In an interview by Aapo Häkkinen about the various keyboard touches of different instruments, several harpsichordists were asked the following questions: “What may a harpsichordist learn from playing the clavichord?” and “Is there something to be gained by practicing harpsichord repertory on the clavichord?” Among those being interviewed was the renowned Leonhardt, who responded: The clavichord is great for little children, certainly better than the modern piano and even better than the harpsichord. Otherwise, I think Philipp Emanuel Bach made too much of the instrument. . . . I think the clavichord was used before him mostly as a study instrument, by virtue of its relative cheapness to buy and ease of maintenance. . . . People who play badly on the harpsichord naturally play badly on the clavichord and vice versa—no sense of sound, or dynamic imagination—I suppose imagination is what it is all about. I feel that a harpsichord student should be confronted with the clavichord and then left to decide for himself—one’s own discoveries are always the best. Personally, I do not see any advantage in practicing the harpsichord repertoire on the clavichord, but it is not necessarily bad at all . . . and I am often surprised how many pieces of the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries seem to work marvelously on all kinds of keyboard instruments.77

When asked which of the two instruments he found easier to play (harpsichord or clavichord), Leonhardt, who started very early on the harpsichord and organ, replied: “After having dived as much as I could into making the


67

harpsichord a dynamic instrument, my reaction was that the clavichord is almost too easy by comparison.” 78 Musicians living in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries faced challenges similar to the ones we face when switching from one keyboard instrument to another. The touch is different, and it takes skill to adapt to the peculiarities of the different keyboards in order to master them with sensitivity and artistry. Like modern musicians who play multiple instruments, our predecessors were sometimes better at one of them. Pierre-Louis Daquin remarks about Duphly: For some time he was organist at Rouen, but doubtless finding that he had a greater gift for the harpsichord, he abandoned his first instrument. One may suppose that he did well, since he passes in Paris for a very good harpsichordist. He has much lightness of touch and a certain softness, which, sustained by ornaments, marvelously render the character of his pieces.79

Marpurg notes that Duphly, a student of the organist François Dagincourt, eventually played only the harpsichord, in order “not to spoil his hand with the organ.”80 This might have had something to do with heavy actions on some historical organs, which would have required more development of hand muscles than needed for playing the harpsichord.81 As a teacher, Marpurg favors the harpsichord: The harpsichord is preferable to the clavichord because its tone does not die away so quickly, and thus one may hear more clearly whether or not the pupil lifts his fingers promptly upon expiration [release] of the note values. Consequently one may caution him against the sticky manner of playing. 82

C. P. E Bach and Türk both support the idea of playing multiple keyboard instruments. Bach feels that a good keyboardist should play pieces interchangeably on a minimum of two instruments. He briefly expounds upon the virtues of playing both the harpsichord and the clavichord: Every keyboardist should own a good harpsichord and a good clavichord to enable him to play all things interchangeably. A good clavichordist makes an accomplished harpsichordist, but not the reverse. The clavichord is needed for the study of good performance, and the harpsichord to develop proper finger strength. Those who play the clavichord exclusively encounter many difficulties when they turn to the harpsichord. In an ensemble where a harpsichord must be used rather than the soft-toned clavichord, they will play laboriously; and great exertion never produces the proper keyboard effect. The clavichord-

68

Historical Harpsichord Technique ist grows too much accustomed to caressing the keys; consequently, his touch being insufficient to operate the jacks, he fails to bring out details on the harpsichord. In fact, finger strength may be lost eventually by playing on the clavichord. On the other hand, those who concentrate on the harpsichord grow accustomed to playing in only one color, and the varied touch, which the competent clavichord brings to the harpsichord, remains hidden from them.83

Bach’s statements seem to conflict with one another. He feels that a person who exclusively plays clavichord would be challenged by the touch required to play harpsichord, since it demands more finger strength. Also, the clavichord player might be musically challenged at the harpsichord due its lack of the same type of dynamic ability and its inability to allow for bebung [vibrato on a clavichord] and manipulation of pitch while playing a given note. In spite of this difficulty, or perhaps because of it, Bach promotes the idea of the clavichordist practicing the harpsichord. In doing so, the clavichord player learns to be expressive in new ways that do not rely solely on the production of loud and soft dynamics. Bach’s remark about the clavichordist “growing too much accustomed to caressing the keys” is troublesome in that it suggests that harpsichordists do not caress the keys. Bach’s words are testimony to his dislike of the harpsichord. I cannot disagree more with his biased statements. Obviously, the harpsichord does not play in just one color, and it is a pity that he, the son of one of the greatest composers of harpsichord music, would have such opinions, much less share them openly. In my opinion, both the harpsichord and clavichord are complete instruments and are not lacking in anything. Nonetheless, we may infer from his statements that these two keyboard instruments offer unique and diverse ways of expressing music. Practicing on both highlights these differences. Türk restricts his students to the clavichord at the beginning of their studies and only later leads them to the harpsichord or piano. Unfortunately, he shares C. P. E. Bach’s sentiment about the disadvantage of playing only the harpsichord: “If one has only enough money for one instrument,” he advises, “get a clavichord, for those who study harpsichord only do so at the expense of a good manner of performance.”84 His attitude reflects an apparently fashionable prejudice in the latter half of the eighteenth century, when the harpsichord gave way to the growing popularity of the fortepiano. Löhlein also prefers the clavichord as a first instrument. He reasons that students who learn first on fortepiano or harpsichord do not achieve the same refinement of touch and expression as one who is first taught on the clavichord:


69

It is probably an indisputable fact . . . that a clavichord is better than a harpsichord or a pianoforte for the beginner. Because anyone who learns from one of the latter instruments will never be as refined in playing and in expression as a person who receives beginning instruction on the clavichord. 85

In the Anleitung für Clavierspielen (1790), Johann Carl Friedrich Rellstab regards the clavichord as “an opportunity to learn good performance” which a keyboardist may then “bring to bear on the harpsichord.” He also mentions the virtues of the harpsichord: The harpsichord gives strength and paradoxically, neatness, elegance, certainty, and precision. The reasons are as follows: one can play a piece reasonably well on the clavichord, notwithstanding that here and there, consecutive notes are touched together, without, however, being heard on this instrument; but if one attempts the same piece on a harpsichord, many notes that have never been imagined on the clavichord are heard; the even and invariable tone of the harpsichord, and the deep fall of the keys are responsible for this.86

G. F. Wolf encourages the study of clavichord to cultivate lyricism in one’s keyboard playing: “In order to achieve delicacy and expression in playing, and to learn to express the soft and singing style on the keyboard, one should at least begin on a good clavichord.”87 Although certain challenges arise when mastering different touches required for multiple keyboard instruments, my experience has been that there is much to gain by exploring more than one keyboard instrument. If anything, they complement each other, each one standing in “relief ” against the other. For example, by creating dynamics through finger pressure on the piano or clavichord, we may transfer those ideas of dynamics to the harpsichord and use them to bring forth those emotions. Likewise, the study of harpsichord may positively affect one’s playing of piano (modern or fortepiano), by expanding the concept of articulation and other means of expression that go beyond overt gradations of simple loud and soft notes. Although there is something to be said for devoting as much time, energy, and focus as possible to the perfecting of one’s technique on a particular instrument, the study of other instruments (keyboard as well as non-keyboard) is a great asset to one’s musicianship and imagination as a performer or pedagogue.

3 Articulation• • What Is Articulation? Articulation is a cornerstone of many standard courses about Baroque performance practice. It is often taught in conjunction with the principles of rhetoric,1 phrasing, rhythm, and overall expression, with special emphasis on how these topics are based on historical sources. Until my first official harpsichord lesson in the early 1990s, I had never heard “articulation” mentioned in relation to music, only applied to speech. In particular, I had understood articulation simply as a way to speak clearly so that our words will be heard and understood. Rhetoric takes its name from the Greek word rhêtôr, an orator or teacher. It is generally understood to be the art of communicating effectively and convincingly by finding all available means of persuasion in a given situation. Music abounds with rhetorical elements. Instrumental music mirrors spoken language, and is full of grammatically governed phrases, sentences, pauses, and punctuation marks. Rameau says in his Dissertation, “Music has its phrases, just as discourse has its sentences, and each phrase or sentence has its particular texture.”2 Similarly, Türk writes: Just as the words: “He lost his life not only his fortune” can have an entirely different meaning according to the way they are punctuated (He lost his life, not only his fortune; or, he lost his life not, only his fortune), in the same way the execution of a musical thought can be made unclear or even wrong through incorrect punctuation. Thus, if a keyboard player, other than at the end of a musical period, does not join the tones together well and conse70

Articulation

71

quently divides a thought where it should not be divided, then he makes the same mistakes that an orator would if the latter would pause in the middle of a word and take a breath. . . . If a musician would play through a point of rest in the music without breaking the continuity—in one breath as it were—this would be as faulty and contrary to purpose as if, while reading, one would read beyond the point where a phrase or a sentence ends without interruption.3

It is the duty of the performer to portray the music and to do so convincingly before an audience. Thus the musician’s task is not only to play (or sing) the right pitches but also to use artistry and technique to convey what the composition is about. George Buelow has the following to say about the role of the composer—it applies equally to performers. During the Baroque period the composer was obliged, like the orator, to arouse in the listener idealized emotional states—sadness, hate, love, joy, anger, doubt, and so on—and every aspect of musical composition reflected this affective purpose.4

To arouse the listener effectively requires (among other things) good articulation. Not only is articulation the art of speaking or playing clearly so that everything is heard and understood; it also involves an understanding and interpretation of the hierarchy imbedded within the musical language. In the historical context of the period, this musical architecture is governed by strong and weak beats, rhythmic variation, dissonant and consonant harmonies, tempo, intervallic steps or leaps, melodic direction, character, social context, and so on. All musicians, instrumentalists and singers alike, make use of articulation. In the field of “Early Music,” Renaissance and Baroque music in particular, articulation is emphasized frequently, both in modern circles and in early treatises, including method books for wind instruments, in which the musician is taught to use a variety of tongued syllables.5 Articulation is at the core of expressive harpsichord playing; it governs the production of legato, staccato, and everything in between. There is a direct correlation between technique and articulation. The more that harpsichordists develop a douceur du toucher, the more they will be able to produce a wide range of appropriate articulations. Articulation on the harpsichord involves a light and unrestrained finger motion that affects the amount of time given both to the notes and to the silences between the notes through carefully directed beginnings and releases of note lengths.

72


Forkel asks, “If all the players are equally competent, ought not their performances to be uniform?” He answers: The fact that they are not so is due to difference of touch, a quality which to the clavier stands as enunciation to human speech. Distinctness is essential for the enunciation of vowels and consonants, and not less so for the articulation of a musical phrase.6

There is no one single articulation appropriate for any piece of music, regardless of national origin or musical genre. All pieces consist of a myriad of articulations—intricate manipulations of time through sound and silence. That said, however, there is one issue of significance that has current relevance and that is discussed in historical treatises: the “ordinary manner.” Ordinary manner signifies a middle ground, a way of touching the instrument, a manner of articulating at the keyboard that constitutes a type of “basic” touch. There is no way of measuring an actual basic touch, but musicians and theorists have spent a considerable amount of time searching for a basic articulation that is neither legato nor staccato. Marpurg and C. P. E. Bach have differing viewpoints on what types of articulations should be played in the absence of designated musical direction. Marpurg says that ordinary manner is assumed everywhere in the absence of articulation signs, whereas Bach teaches that allegros usually consist of detached notes and adagios of broad, slurred notes and that “these characteristic features . . . [are] to be given consideration even when a composition is not so marked.” 7 Generally speaking, judging from Bach’s explanation in his Versuch, detached notes appear most often in leaping passages and rapid tempos; conversely, slurred notes tend to be found in stepwise passages and in slower or more moderate tempos.8 He criticizes keyboardists who play excessively in either direction—with too much legato or staccato: There are many [keyboardists] who play stickily, as if they had glue between their fingers. Their touch is lethargic; they hold notes too long. Others, in an attempt to correct this, leave the keys too soon, as if they are burned. Both are wrong. I speak in general, for every kind of touch has its use.9

Of course, the general character of a piece must always govern how one plays. Too much or too long an over-legato that does not adjust to considerations of tempo, phrasing, acoustics, and the feel of the instrument may produce a poor tone and unpleasing performance.

Articulation

73

Bach lists the elements of a good performance, which include “the loudness and softness of tones, the touch . . . legato and staccato execution.”10 He elucidates: Good performance, then, occurs when one hears all notes and their embellishments played in correct time with fitting volume produced by a touch which is related to the true content of a piece. Herein lies the rounded, pure, flowing manner of playing which makes for a clarity and expressiveness. With these points in mind, however, it is urgent that the performer test his instrument in advance to avoid too heavy or too light an attack. Many instruments do not produce a perfect, pure tone unless a strong touch is employed; others must be played lightly or the volume will be excessive. I encourage a more musical way of portraying rage, anger, and other passions by means of harmonic and melodic devices rather than by an exaggerated, heavy attack. In rapid passages every tone must be played with a fitting pressure or the effect will be turgid and chaotic.11

Bach encountered technicians who were “nimble keyboardists by profession” who “overwhelm our hearing without satisfying it and stun the mind without moving it.”12 Clearly he advocates performances that combine both technique and musicianship. Löhlein, who like other late eighteenth-century writers does not deem harpsichord the instrument of choice, also discusses the need for performers to incorporate different types of touch into their playing. He encourages keyboardists to emulate various effects on the harpsichord, such as using slurs to represent string instruments: With regard to expression, the keyboard is not as perfect as bowed or wind instruments. Nevertheless, a group of notes may be played in different ways, and we may imitate various types of bowing [by varying the articulations].13

Quantz, like C. P. E. Bach, associates certain tempo markings with types of playing—that is to say, with more connected or detached articulations: The principal character of the Allegro is one of gaiety and liveliness, just as that of the Adagio, on the contrary, is one of tenderness and melancholy. . . . In the Allegro, the quick passagework must be played above all roundly, correctly, and distinctly, and with liveliness and articulation.14

Of course, internal, smaller, and varied articulations are needed for every phrase and passage of whatever character. Quantz recognizes the

74


need to be flexible when interpreting musical terms and pieces in general: “Cases may occur in which [the tempos] are not at all times binding, and the intention of the composer must be discovered instead from the content of the piece.”15 Similarly, in Heinrich Christoph Koch’s Musikalisches Lexicon, articulation styles are given for various shades of tempo marking. In his entry for “Adagio,” he adds: “It is difficult to establish general rules for the performance of every kind of piece, since performance is a matter of feeling rather than description, of imagination rather than instruction.”16 Italian music terms signify performance styles and touches, not just tempo markings. For instance, an allegro marking for a Baroque minuet or gavotte might suggest an entirely different tempo than an allegro for a toccata or fugue, since the former two genres are dance movements while the latter two are often freer improvisatory pieces. Or, as is often the case in Baroque keyboard suites, a minuet in a major key will be followed by a minuet in a minor key, and minor keys often reflect a slower and quieter character, not as light and happy as minuets in major keys. The tempo may or may not stay the same, but it is likely that the overall touch and articulations will change between the two minuets, even if the identical tempo marking appears above them. Information provided by a tempo marking is not precise (and, of course, the early harpsichord repertory had no metronome markings). Furthermore, as briefly mentioned in my discussion of rhetoric, articulation must follow the text and syntax. This applies to pieces with and without text. In his article “Tempo and Expression Marks,” David Fallows reminds us that “repeated references in the theorists suggest that in vocal music, particularly in the madrigal, changes of tempo and dynamic were entrusted to the sensitivity of the music’s performers.”17 Nivers, primarily an organist, includes a section marked “On the Distinction and Slurring of the Notes,” in which he writes: It is of considerable refinement and elegance when one’s touch enables the distinct demarcation of all the notes and a subtle connecting of some, which the manner of singing teaches us correctly. To play the notes in a distinct and marked way, it is necessary to lift the fingers quickly but not too high. That is, for example, in playing rapid divisions and scales, one must promptly raise [release] each note as the next one is played, for if you do not lift one until after the next is played, you make no distinction between the notes.18

Articulation

75

On harpsichord, there is less chance that overlapping will be muddy, because the sounds dissipate rather quickly, unlike on organ. A muddy sound might result, however, if several notes from different harmonies or adjacent notes in a scale passage are held down simultaneously or for too long. Tension in the hand or fingers can cause this muddiness. Nivers’s recommendation of a “distinct demarcation of all the notes and a subtle connecting of some” applies directly to good harpsichord technique. For instance, a quickly ascending scale pattern may be performed with great nuance if the notes are not simply detached equally the whole way up, but rather more connected in the beginning and more detached as they ascend. In an article on performance in the Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste (1774), Johann Georg Sulzer (writing more for fortepiano) discusses heavy (schwer) and light (leicht) styles. Schwer playing is meant for movements that are grand and serious. It needs a firm touch. Notes get full value, “almost as if the word tenuto were written above them.” Leicht implies a less emphatic touch and shortened note values.19 Türk says that schwer implies that notes are to be played firmly and for their full value, whereas leicht implies a less emphatic touch, the fingers raised before the notes’ full value. He explains in more detail: For a heavy execution every tone must be played firmly [with emphasis] and held out until the very end of the prescribed duration of the note. Light execution is that in which every tone is played with less firmness, and the finger lifted from the key somewhat sooner than the actual prescribed duration. In order to avoid a misunderstanding I must also remark that the terms heavy and light in general refer more to the sustaining or detaching of a tone rather than to the softness or loudness of the same. For in certain cases, for example in an allegro vivo, scherzando, vivace con allegrezza, etc., the execution must be rather light (short) but at the same time more or less loud, whereas pieces of a melancholy character, for example an adagio mesto, con afflizione, etc., although played slurred and consequently with a certain heaviness, must nevertheless not be executed too loudly. In most cases, however, heavy and loud are indeed to be combined. Whether the execution is to be heavy or light may be determined (1) from the character [Affekt]20 and the purpose of a composition; (2) from the designated tempo; (3) from the meter; (4) from the note values used; and (5) from the manner in which the notes progress, etc. Besides, national taste, the style of the composer, and the instrument for which the composition is written must be taken into consideration.21

76


The following paragraph exposes Türk’s stereotyped views about the types of touch ascribed to national styles: A composition that has been written in the Italian national taste requires in general a medium execution. The performance of a French composition must be lighter. On the contrary, the works of German composers for the most part demand a heavier and more robust execution. In the same way the style of a composer also presumes an individual mode of treatment. A composition of Handel, Sebastian Bach, etc., must be given a more emphatic execution than, for example, a modern concerto of Mozart. 22

Despite such statements about heavy and light touches as they pertain to national styles, elsewhere Türk gives a much more detailed description of different types of pieces. In the following paragraph he presents himself with more integrity and an open-mindedness that crosses national lines: Compositions of an exalted, serious, solemn, pathetic character, and similar character must be given a heavy execution with fullness and force, strongly accented and the like. To these types of compositions belong those which are headed grave, pomposo, patetico, maestoso, sostenuto, and the like. A somewhat lighter and markedly softer execution is required by compositions of a pleasant, gentle, agreeable character, consequently those which are customarily marked compiacevole, con dolcezza, glissicato, lusingando, pastorale, and the like. Compositions in which lively, humorous, and joyous feelings are predominant, for example, allegro scherzando, burlesco, giocoso, con allegrezza, risvegliato, etc., must be played quite lightly, whereas melancholy and similar affects particularly call for the slurring of tones and portato. Compositions of the latter type are designated by the words con afflizzione, con amarezza, doloroso, lagrimoso, languido, mesto, etc. . . . It is understood that in all of the aforementioned cases, various degrees of heavy or light execution must be applied.”23

He concludes with a poetic analogy, in which he compares heavy and light keyboard touches to visual art: “If I might express myself in the terminology of painting, then I would say that certain parts must be given light and others shadow.”24 G. F. Wolf argues that it is not enough to know these “superficial” meanings of these Italian terms; the performer also needs to take into consideration “the kind of touch” that they require.25 It is advantageous to look up musical terms in musical dictionaries of the seventeenth or eighteenth century, which may provide more detail than those given in some modern dictionaries.26

Articulation

77

“Ordinary Manner” Both Marpurg and Türk describe a specific manner of playing the keyboard as ordentliche or gewöhnliche.27 This manner of playing has been the subject of much inquiry. If there is an ordinary way of touching the keys, some basic way of articulating that is neither connected nor detached, the topic raises many questions: What is it, exactly? When should it be used? Is it truly intended as some kind of default when nothing else is marked? Is this the touch we should first teach beginners? At what point do the fingers alternate their motions and release from one note to the next so that the movement is not considered more of a legato or staccato touch? What factors tell us when to apply it? Does it change depending on when and where the piece was written? Are we able to be precise about how to play in this manner? At the end of the sixteenth century, Diruta demands clear articulation: Remember that the fingers clearly articulate the keys so that one does not press another key until the finger rises from the previous one. One raises and lowers the fingers at exactly the same time. I warn you not to lift the fingers too high over the keyboard and, above all, to hold the hand easily in a ready manner.28

Nassarre’s eighteenth-century Spanish organ treatise describes something similar to this manner of playing, which is neither connected nor de tached: Others go to another extreme, which is to not give enough movement to the fingers; for to depress one key, they do not lift the one they depressed before, and the sounds overlap. One must avoid these two extremes, for they are undesirable and of no small consequence, and one should adjust the timing in such a manner that the sounds follow one another distinctly and with clarity, neither delaying nor overlapping, so that there is no confusion. 29

Marpurg explains how legato, detached playing, and ordinary manner differ: An arc . . . means that the notes are to be slurred. Now, “to slur” means not to lift the finger from the preceding note until one touches the next [note]. . . . Detachment is the opposite of slurring; it consists in this: that one does not hold a note for its [full] value but only until about half the value. This is notated with a dot. Often one makes use of a little [vertical] straight line for this.30

78


He adds: Contrary to the legato and staccato is the ordinary manner of playing, which consists in lifting the finger nimbly from the previous key just before the next note is played. Because this ordinary manner of playing is always implied, it is never marked.31

Forkel describes a type of basic articulation that is somewhere in the middle of legato and staccato: When passing from one note to another, a sliding action instinctively instructs the next finger regarding the amount of force exerted by its predecessor, so that the tone is equally regulated and the notes are equally distinct. In other words, the touch is neither too long nor too short, as Carl Philipp Emanuel complains, but is just what it ought to be.32

Like Marpurg, Georg Caspar Hodermann, author of Kurzer Unterricht für Musik-Anfänger (1787), describes an ordinary manner: “In the absence of [a] precise indication, all notes, on whatever instrument, must be played quite fully after each other.”33 Is this something closer to legato? Portato?34 It is absurd to think of playing this way in the large variety of musical contexts simply because it is not otherwise marked. Notation, even at its best, is imprecise. Johann Daniel Hensel, in his Klavierschule (1796), attributes certain touches to a variety of tempos, with fast pieces requiring sprightlier finger motion than slow pieces. In the absence of musical indications from the composer, he specifies a semidetached style of playing: In slow tempos, every note must be fully held for as long as its value requires, which is known as holding the note. In order to render the performance more distinct and lively in fast tempos, these same notes, when no signs specify to the contrary, may be almost unnoticeably separated, as if a rest of the shortest possible duration stood after each note, whereby a “round” manner of playing is achieved.35

Türk writes: “For tones which are to be played in customary fashion (that is, neither detached nor slurred) the finger is lifted a little earlier from the key than is required by the duration of the note.” This is not staccato, either. The silences are barely audible. He goes on to say, “Each note should be heard with its requisite strength, roundly and distinctly separated from the others.” He describes “the correct connection and separation of musical phrases” and criti-

Articulation

79

cizes those who do not “connect the notes together sufficiently.” Türk dislikes extremes of touch because they obscure a clear manner of performance. He does not specify when to use the ordinary manner.36 Without instruction to play in a specific manner, Rellstab favors the rule of the middle road (die Mittlestrasse).37 Similarly, Merbach warns against extremes of touch that are too sticky or too light. He complains about beginners who tend to “leave all five fingers on the keyboard at once,” depressing all the keys in an inappropriate overlapping manner. He encourages students to find a happy medium. The finger should be lifted immediately after touching the key for its complete note value.38 Adolph Friedrich Petschke criticizes Merbach for his immediate lifting of the fingers, remarking that it is not always required: [When playing] a sustained note, the finger must remain on the key for a long time. It must remain on the key for the exact value and length of the note, unless dots or dashes signify that the notes are to be played otherwise.39

Discussions of the ordinary manner occur outside of Germany as well. Rameau describes a transfer of finger weight that is naturally smooth, much like the shifting of weight from one foot to the other in walking: From the finger from which you started, proceed to its neighbor, and so on to the next one, making sure that the finger which has just depressed a key leaves it at the same instant that its neighbor plays another; for the raising of one finger and the depressing of the next should occur simul taneously.40

The majority of Baroque compositions for keyboard have few markings instructing us to play legato, staccato, or anything else for that matter. Yet we know from previously cited sources that, indeed, all sorts of touches were employed. Thus, rather than searching for a precise articulation befitting an “ordinary manner,” we may view it as an umbrella term describing a touch somewhere between the extremes of legato and staccato. It would be absurd to think of playing everything that is unmarked, as it were, in the same manner, so it is likely that the sources are trying to document a manner of playing befitting any composition as a point of departure. When teaching beginners, it is also helpful to give simple exercises that should be played in this manner before progressing to a more connected or detached style of playing.

80


Legato My staccato is always legato. Wanda Landowska, quoted in Harich-Schneider, The Harpsichord

When teaching or learning how to play legato, it is important to realize that there are many gradations and applications of this style of playing. It is not sufficient to say only that the notes should be connected as smoothly as possible. Legato implies a connected manner of playing. It may mean that the strings never stop vibrating between the notes, but there are different levels of overlapping sounds and the number of notes played. Extreme legato is sometimes known as over-legato, legatissimo, or “finger pedaling.” 41 Mastering variety in legato styles demands that the fingers remain in contact with the keys in a relaxed, graceful manner. Those who place their fingers on the keys in either too arched or too flat a position will have a more difficult time achieving a beautiful legato touch. It is imperative not to reserve legato playing (or any articulation, for that matter) solely for when signs instruct us to play in this manner. Rather, it is but one of the many ways of moving from one note to the next, applicable in countless situations, tempos, affects, etc. In fact, from the beginning of the seventeenth century and well into the late eighteenth century, various authors have proposed using legato for nearly all pieces. In Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica (1626), Francisco Correa de Arauxo teaches: One must inviolably maintain one rule: to not raise one finger until the next note or rest follows in the same line. . . . one must know how to adapt the fingers and hands . . . all to avoid raising the preceding key until the next one in the same line follows, as said above.42

Is he describing some kind of legato playing, even in such an early period? Or is he describing something between legato and staccato, some kind of flowing “ordinary manner”? In The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, Spinet, or Organ, Pasquali clearly states his preference for legato: Legato is the touch which this essay seeks to teach, since this is the most important touch for almost all passages, and the one in which the vibration of the strings is most complete for each note.43

Articulation

81

Pasquali defines legato as the “tied or equal” touch. He is a proponent of thumb passing in passages of five or more consecutive notes; this, he says, enables players “to keep the fingers down upon the keys the entire length of the notes.” 44 He is reproachful of detached playing (when not specifically marked in the score): When the vibration of a string ceases before the vibration of another one begins, not only does this cause an unsatisfactory tone to come from the instrument in some of the notes of a running passage, but the music will also not be played as it is written.45

It is unclear as to whether he refers only to running passages or to other contexts as well. In L’art de toucher le clavecin, Couperin says, “It is necessary to preserve a perfect legato in all that one plays.” 46 We may think of this liaison parfaite not as a true legato but more as a perfect connectedness; in other words, every note, and thus every phrase, should relate and connect to the next one. This is different from an overlapping of sounds. If we interpret his advice in this way, every release of a key should have a smooth motion as the fingers prepare to play the next note or even a rest. This is in direct contrast to choppy playing, but this is not to say that Couperin’s comment, taken out of context, implies an avoidance of detached notes. In fact, he provides examples of fingering patterns that promote a non-legato, such as in the second part of the Silvains (Woodland nymphs), in which he uses the third finger twice on consecutive notes. At the same time, given the amount of attention he devotes to legato playing, we cannot deny the possibility that, overall, Couperin favors a more connected manner of touching the keys, one that may in fact be more legato than in the earlier virginal repertory, for example. Duphly’s “Exercise Book for Lord Fitzwilliam” contains a paragraph entitled “Du doigté” that mirrors the article the composer provided for the entry “Doigter” in Rousseau’s Dictionnaire de musique. Duphly says that legato is a particular feature of the French way of playing (“le jeu françois”): The fingers must fall on the keys and not strike them; and moreover, they must flow from one to the other in succession; that is to say, [the finger] must not leave one key before it has taken up another. This primarily regards the French manner of playing.47

This passage is somewhat ambiguous, beginning with the meaning of the word pris (taken, or taken up), which could refer to either the initial contact

82


Example 3.1. Minuet by Rameau, mm. 1–3, from Miller, Institutes, 28.

or the actual sounding of a note. We face the same confusion with Rameau, from whom Duphly copies the first sentence verbatim. Rameau’s preface says that the fingers should drop onto the keys (i.e., the point at which the quill touches the string) and glide in succession from one note to the next, raising and lowering the successive notes simultaneously.48 In general, it appears that Rameau is an enthusiast of legato playing. Specifically, he elaborates on this technique in his Dissertation, which focuses on the art of playing from figured bass. He connects notes by holding one or more common tones from chord to chord. Although it is highly doubtful that he intends all continuo parts to be played legato, at the very least he is a proponent of good voice leading and keeping the hand still to avoid choppy playing which occurs when it jumps around the keyboard. In his preface, he indicates his familiarity with techniques taught by others in the Parisian circle, such as Denis, Saint-Lambert, and Couperin, all of whom discuss legato in their writings. Rameau’s comments in Traité de l’harmonie are somewhat conservative in regard to use of the thumb, but there he writes in the context of playing from figured bass, not solo playing.49 In the preface he advocates using the thumb as an equal, active finger, especially for solo playing. In Institutes, Miller observes that “the best masters recommend legato as the most appropriate touch for the harpsichord.” He gives fingerings that promote “a smooth, equal, and connected” manner.50 Among his practice pieces, which are intended to teach different types of articulation, is a minuet by Rameau (example 3.1), for which Miller adds very long slurs that span three measures. He notes, “As far as the curved lines go, you take such fingers as naturally lie over the keys.”51 Among his many finger exercises are ones for learning different types of articulation. In example 3.2, he puts slurs over groups of notes, most of them in pairs, for the purpose of practicing legato.

Articulation

83

Example 3.2. Aria for producing legato, mm.1–4, from Miller, Institutes, 51.

In Miller’s rules on fingering, he says that “every different note” requires a “different finger [for connected playing] unless there is a rest or because a pause intervenes.”52 He also emphasizes contraction of the hand and better fingering (i.e., use of the thumb) to guarantee “a better tone from the instrument.”53 (Miller’s thoughts on contracting the hand will be discussed in chapter 4 in a section devoted specifically to that subject.) In Principles of Music Calculated for the Pianoforte or Harpsichord (1796), Nicholas Joseph Hüllmandel prefers a smooth, flowing style. He deems “defective” any fingering patterns that stiffen the fingers or prevent the joining of the notes. “This stiffening and detached style of playing are to be avoided at all costs.”54 This statement is direct, but it is hard to believe that he rejects all instances of detached playing. I’d like to think that he would endorse a detached manner when written, and, if we read between the lines, he strongly disliked tension in the fingers or keeping too constant a distance between finger and key, which would result in unattractive, overly detached playing. In Marpurg’s Clavierstücke (1762), he states, “The first basic rule of fingering is that the performance should be as connected and legato as possible.”55 In his Principes du clavecin, he specifies that when playing notes under a slur, “one should not lift a finger until the following note has been touched.”56 In his Klavierschule, Türk illuminates how to play in a connected manner that suggests an over-legato:

84


Example 3.3. Couperin, L’art de toucher le clavecin, “Agréments qui servent au jeu.”

For tones which are to be slurred, the finger should be allowed to remain on the key until the duration of the given note is completely past, so that not the slightest separation results.57

For slurred notes, G. F. Wolf explains that “one finger is not raised until the next one is played.” He calls this klebricht Spielart (notes held beyond their value).58 Franz Paul Rigler, in his Anleitung zum Gesange (1798), also writes about connecting notes as much as possible in slurred passages; specifically, the keyboardist should hold the first note “until the second one has been sounded.”59 Johann Peter Milchmeyer, in his treatise Die wahre Art das Pianoforte zu spielen (1797), points out that holding notes beyond their written value does not always apply to every note in a passage: The legato style of playing . . . requires a smooth and languishing approach. . . . However good or bad sounding they may be, such passages as contain only the true notes of the chord are enhanced by this manner of playing. . . . This method of playing requires that the fingers may remain a little longer on various notes; moreover, the notes, provided that they remain in one position, are played without moving the hand or arm. 60

Although his treatise is about playing the piano, his words are appropriate for holding certain notes down when playing chords and arpeggiated harmonies on the harpsichord, such as in the French unmeasured preludes. In these preludes, the earliest of which were written entirely in whole notes, different types of curved lines (liaisons) appear in the score. Some of these lines are ties; others are slurs over groups of notes both large and small. All of these slur markings inform the performer about which notes to sustain or overlap, allowing the other notes to be played in passing. Those that are held create the fundamental harmonies, while those that are released constitute fanciful,

Articulation

85

Example 3.4. Couperin, L’art de toucher le clavecin, premier prélude, mm. 1–4.

improvisatory passagework and ornamental filigree. The notes without slurs may or may not be played legato, depending on the particular passage and the performer’s interpretation. In The Elements of Music, John Parsons makes the correlation between a good touch and a beautiful sound. His description suggests a possible legato or something close to it. It may be more of an ordinary touch, but it is certainly not a depiction of a detached manner of playing. Care must be taken that no finger be recovered from its key before the full length of the note be expired, nor, till the succeeding one be fully prepared to strike; and when that strikes, the one that was played before is to rise and not until then; so that the movement be alternate, down and up; by which means a proper direction of finger will be acquired and a fine tone be produced from the instrument.61

Couperin is among the first to notate and to discuss the use of finger substitution as a means to a sustained manner of playing.62 He remarks about his use of the technique in his piece La Milordine, “Notice what connection the changing of fingers lends to playing! However, people tell me that this requires more agility than the traditional manner. I agree.” 63 Couperin illustrates finger substitution through exercises, such as is seen in example 3.3. He explains this technique: The two numerals over the same note mark the change from one finger to the other, except that when the higher number is played first, one must ascend at once, and when the lower is played first, on the contrary, descend.64

His affinity for this technique is evident in the fact that his very first prelude is devoted to it.65 It is a technique that can (and should) be used in many of his pieces for solo harpsichord. Notice in example 3.4 how he uses finger substitution in both hands on notes of differing time values and for notes with and without ornaments.

86


Rousseau also supports finger substitution: In sonorous and legato music, it is good to get used to substituting one finger in the place of another, without raising the key. This manner of playing gives fluency in performance and prolongs the duration of the notes.66

C. P. E. Bach, however, criticizes Couperin for using finger substitution too often in his L’art de toucher le clavecin: Couperin, who is otherwise so sound, calls for replacement too frequently and casually. Undoubtedly, the thumb’s correct use was not fully known in his time, as suggested by some of his fingered examples in which he replaces fingers instead of using the thumb or the repeated finger, both of which are easier.67

Hartong (writing more for piano, where pedaling helps facilitate legato) prefers the finger slide to finger substitution, specifically when moving from an accidental to a diatonic key: In those keys [tonalities] in which I would have to overreach from a black [raised] key to a neighboring white one, I prefer in these cases to spring down with the finger that I have on the black key, snapping down to the white key.68

In his Lettre, Le Gallois draws attention to the faults of performers who poorly execute legato: But if the brilliant style has its defects, the legato (coulant) style also has its own, which is easy to observe in those [for] whom affectation causes [them] to slur their playing in an agonizing [or chaotic] manner. For they so contort their hands and fingers, they pass them over each other with such excess, tightening them in an extraordinary manner, that it becomes disgusting and pitiful. . . . Thus all one may say about it is that their playing is indeed so strongly legato that it sounds more like the playing of a hurdy-gurdy, in which, because of the slurring, the playing has no rhythm, than like true harpsichord playing.69

Although we know that all kinds of articulations were employed in Baroque harpsichord playing, a trend toward legato playing, especially in France and Germany, is suggested in evidence found scattered throughout the later treatises quoted above. These treatises begin to discuss the equal use of the fingers, the active role of the thumb, liaisons (slurs), successive fingers for scale passages, finger substitution, and not raising one key until the next has been

Articulation

87

played. Given the quick decay of sound when a string is plucked on the harpsichord, mastering the fine art of legato playing is among the essential tools needed to sustain tones and to create lush sonorities.

Slurs Slurs indicate that notes “belong” together in some kind of grouping. They usually suggest a connected style of playing, but they do not tell us exactly how joined the notes in question should be played. In early seventeenth-century keyboard repertory, slurs are sometimes intended to imitate string instruments. One such example is found in the first two volumes of Samuel Scheidt’s Tabulatura nova (1624), where slurs are placed over several groups of sixteenth notes. The score is marked “Imitatio violistica”: Where the notes, like here, are tied together, it signifies a special manner similar to the violinists slurring with the bow. This manner is often used by celebrated German violinists, and it is also possible to use it on lightactioned organs, regals, harpsichords, and spinets, where it produces a pleasant sound. For this reason I became very fond of this manner and grew used to it.70

Most often, however, discussions of slurred passages and their execution are less about special effects and more about general technique. Several treatises give examples of slurred notes, differentiating between adjacent notes and notes that constitute a broken chord. Rameau tells us, “A slur that embraces two different notes . . . indicates that the finger must not be raised from the first note until after the second note has been played.” 71 How long these notes should be overlapped is not clear from his description or from the example he provides in his table of ornaments. What we may infer is that there is a definite legato, especially when we contrast this statement with the one in the preface, where he describes a general finger technique in which the “raising of one finger and depressing of a key by another must be carried out at the same time.”72 “At the same time” conveys a simultaneous touch applicable to a non-legato, whereas “until after the second note has been played” denotes overlapping. Marpurg’s definition of a slur is similar to Rameau’s: “A slur over two different notes signifies that the notes are to be connected. To connect them means that the fingers are not raised from the previous note until the next finger has played the following note.” 73

88


Example 3.5. C. P. E. Bach, Versuch (1787 ed.), slurred notes, fig. 168.

C. P. E. Bach explains how to play his examples in which two and three notes are connected by a slur: Notes that are to be played legato must be held for their full value. . . . The slur applies to all of the notes included under its trace. Patterns of two and four slurred notes are played with a slight, scarcely noticeable increase of pressure on the first and third tones. The same applies to the first tones of groups of three notes. In other cases only the first of the slurred notes is played in this manner. It is a convenient custom to indicate by appropriate marks on the first few of prolonged successions of detached or legato notes, it being self-evident that all of the tones are to be played similarly until another kind of mark intervenes.74

Clearly, Bach’s use of the word pressure indicates that he is referring to either piano or clavichord. Nonetheless, his lesson may be applied to how we interpret and perform slurred notes on the harpsichord: not by exerting more pressure, obviously, but by lengthening and overlapping certain notes more than others to create a hierarchy of important notes. Bach demonstrates in example 3.5 how to prolong note values when three notes of a chord are embraced by a slur. In situations like these, Türk tells us when to release the fingers from the notes being held: When there is a curved line over harmonies that are to be slowly arpeggiated . . . especially in compositions of agreeable character, and the like, to let the fingers remain on the keys until the appearance of the next harmony.75

He then provides assorted examples that show how long to hold slurred notes in different contexts, depending on the tempo or character of a piece.76 Rameau says, “A slur that embraces many notes indicates that one must hold them all down from one end of the slur to the other.”77 Example 3.6 shows how Rameau wants the notes under a liaison to be held. Saint-Lambert also gives examples of groups of slurred notes that are part of a broken chord, such as those in example 3.7.

Articulation

89

Example 3.6. Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, “Table des agréments: Liaison.”

Example 3.7. Saint-Lambert, Les principes du clavecin, “Remarque sur la liaison.”

In an earlier chapter, “De la liaison,” he includes more examples, including ones in which all notes have the same value (either quarters or whole notes) as well as instances in which a slur is written over notes that move by step. He elaborates on the subject: The general rule is to keep down all the notes embraced by the slur until it is time to release the last one, but there are some instances when they must not all be held. When the first and last notes are long, that is, whole or half notes, and the others are short, that is to say, eighth or sixteenth notes . . . only the first and last notes are held, and all the others released. But even without looking to see if the first and last notes are longer than the others, it suffices that the notes embraced by the slur move by step to make it obligatory to hold only the first and the last. Thus in examples with stepwise quarter notes, even though the notes all have the same value, only the first and last of those embraced by the slur are to be held, since they move by step and not disjunctively.78

Saint-Lambert goes on to distinguish between examples in which all the notes are held down and ones in which only the first and last notes are held, the middle ones being released after their note values have expired. We conclude from his section on slurs that he wants players to employ different types of legato for passages with leaping notes and for those that move by step. On over-legato, he gives the following explanation: One plays all the notes that the slur encloses, and the effect of the slur is that all these notes are held after having been played, even if their value has expired, and they are only released when it is time to release the last note.

90

Historical Harpsichord Technique In order to explain this more clearly, let us suppose four notes are connected by a slur and marked ABCD according to the order in which they are arranged. A must be played first, B second, C third, and D fourth. But when playing B, A must not be released, nor in playing C must A or B be released, nor in playing D must A, B, or C be released. They must all be held and not released until it is time to release the last one, that is, when D has reached its full value. Then they are all released at the same time even though they were played one after the other. . . . The slur is used particularly in preludes, and sometimes also in pieces, but more rarely.79

From all of these discussions about slurred passages, the harpsichordist learns the importance of controlling the amount of connection between two or more notes, both when slur markings are provided by the composer and when the performer decides to apply them to an otherwise unmarked score. What is not written in the treatises, however, is that the performer must take into consideration all sorts of factors that affect one’s use of legato, including tempo, the acoustics of the instrument and performance venue, the character of the piece, and its harmonic movement. This applies to passages that have slurs over several adjacent notes that move by step as well as to broken chords.

Arpeggios Tones decay quite rapidly on the harpsichord; how fast the sound decays differs from one instrument to the next. Although it is a keyboard instrument, its plucking mechanism is more akin to that of a harp or a lute. Because of this attribute, harpsichordists are forever faced with the need for “expressive moulding of a continuum of sound.”80 One of the principal ways to sustain the sound on a harpsichord is through arpeggiation: when the notes of a chord are played in broken succession rather than simultaneously. An arpeggio may be written out as individual notes, or it may be indicated by a sign, such as a wavy or curved line running vertically alongside a chord. It may be played in numerous directions, depending on the number of notes: upward, downward, and in a mixed direction (style brisé), etc. Not only may an arpeggio prolong harmonies, but the manner in which it is performed may produce infinite contrasts in character and affect the expressive shaping and drama. One of the earliest sources to mention the need to sustain the sound on a harpsichord is Diruta in Il Transilvano. In a paragraph discussing the differences between organ and harpsichord technique, he tells us:

Articulation

91

Example 3.8. Froberger, Toccata no. 2 in D Minor (1649), mm. 1–3.

The same effect that one derives from the organ, that of sustaining sound, should be employed on a quilled instrument; for example, when a breve or semi-breve is played on an organ, one hears the entire sound without again pressing the key, but when playing the quilled instrument for the same note duration one loses half the sound. One must, then, with the vivacity and dexterity of the hand, make up for the lack of sound by playing the notes often and gracefully. 81

According to Frescobaldi, elegant artifices are needed in order “not to leave the instrument empty”: The beginnings of the toccatas should be played adagio and arpeggiated. The same applies to the suspensions or dissonances, which also in the middle of the piece are to be played together in order not to leave the instrument empty [i.e., not to let the sound die away]. Reiterating the notes may be repeated at the player’s discretion. 82

Adagio is most commonly understood to mean “slow.” Brossard (Dictionnaire, 1703) translates adagio as “comfortable, at one’s ease, without hurrying,” as well as “slowly, dragging the beat a little.” The term adasio appears in Frescobaldi’s prefaces to his two 1615 volumes and his Fiori musicali (1635). Given the musical context, the word suggests playing “at ease” or “as you wish,” a more prose-like manner than in other, more metrical sections.83 Often in the beginning of the toccatas of Frescobaldi and Johann Jakob Froberger, we are given only a whole note (or more) of a held chord (see example 3.8). The opening chord would sound boring if played as literally notated— that is, as block D-minor chords that just sit and wait for the next chord to be played. Through different ways of arpeggiating and ornamenting the chord, this opening harmony may be transformed into a powerful, emotive statement, much like an initial grand brushstroke that begins a painting or an actor’s entrance onstage. One should experiment by moving up and down

92


the D-minor chord note by note, altering the speed at which the arpeggio is played, lingering on some notes more than others, and even adding some acciaccaturas (the momentary application of nonharmonic, melodic passing notes within an arpeggiated figure).84 French keyboard tradition also makes use of passing nonharmonic tones. This is sometimes notated (e.g., in D’Anglebert) as a slash (/ or \) between the notes of a chord or a vertical slur to signify either an upward or downward motion, often called a “slide.” The most common of these slides fills in the harmonic interval of a third and signals the harpsichordist to sustain the main notes while playing a passing note in between them. The slide is often called a coulé or tierce coulé or coulé sur tierce.85 Much may be learned about arpeggiating from the music of other plucked instruments, especially those in the lute family. Perrine’s Pièces de luth en musique (1680), written in keyboard notation, provides instructions for performing the arpeggio. Reviewing lute pieces with written-out sections in the style brisé (broken style) is valuable to the harpsichordist who seeks creative ways to break up a chord, so as “not to leave the instrument empty” and to “mould the continuum of sound.” The style brisé is found in many early lute manuscripts, such as in Kapsperger’s arpeggiated toccatas (Rome, 1604) or the doubles of courantes in Robert Ballard’s lute books (1611 and 1614), and it eventually became a distinctive feature of French lute playing. It serves to give expressive shape and nuance to an otherwise ordinary harmonic progression. It also sustains the vibration of the strings and prolongs their harmony. With its foundations in lute repertory and lute performance of the late Renaissance and early Baroque, style brisé soon found its way into solo harpsichord performance. Some of the earliest appearances of this broken style appear in the allemandes of Chambonnières. Chords written out in this style continue to be seen in compositions throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, including the cadential passages of courantes and other movements of the harpsichord suites by such composers as Johann Caspar Ferdinand Fischer. There is much to be learned about inventive arpeggiation from the French unmeasured preludes written for solo harpsichord; in particular, the later preludes, such as those by D’Anglebert, include black notes of varying notelengths and reveal which notes to play as passing melodic notes and which to sustain as fundamental harmonies. For arpeggiation to sound effective, the fingers must never stiffen. Slow practice is useful in learning to shift the position of the hand as it is guided by the fingers with a graceful, gradual motion. It is most important to keep

Articulation

93

all the fingers relaxed and near each other in a natural manner, without force. If the music calls for the finger to linger on one note, the whole hand should linger there without leaving some fingers outstretched as though they were preparing to play other notes. That only causes unnecessary tension in the hand and fingers.86

Staggered Playing Another expressive device on the harpsichord is “staggered playing”: when two notes that are written as simultaneous are played at different times, with the upper note slightly delayed with respect to the lower one (sometimes the reverse). It is related to the arpeggio in the sense that the notes of a given harmony are not played at the same time. I have also heard it called “fringing,” because the upper part is played a little outside of the beat, i.e., on the “fringe.” The Englishman Roger North uses the word in this context as well when he says that this manner of playing “doth not corrupt but rather fringes the tone.”87 It also resembles the French agrément called the suspension. Staggered playing needs at least two notes written in harmony on the same beat. Delaying a note so it is not exactly together with those notated on the same beat is often a useful tool in ascending passages when the final top note is reached. The slight postponement of the upper note reminds me of the sensation I sometimes get at the top of a hill or a roller coaster. It may also feel like a small but highly emotive, musical sigh. Both Duphly and Antoine Forqueray provide written instructions on where and how to apply staggered playing. In Duphly’s piece Les Grâces he places dots above the notes with instructions at the top of the page: “Dots above the bass mean that they should be played before the upper part.” In Forqueray’s pieces La Sylva, La Léon, and La D’Aubonne, he puts little crosses (+) above some notes with these directions: This piece must be played with a great deal of taste and feeling. To convey this I have marked little crosses which signify that the chords of the bass are played before those of the treble; and for all those [chords] where [crosses] are not found, the treble is played before the bass. 88

Pierre-Claude Foucquet is another proponent of staggered playing. His instructions are more general, however, and without specific notation. Foucquet prefaces his second book of harpsichord pieces with this remark: “In all pieces that are graceful or tender, one must play the bass note before that

94


of the upper part, without changing the meter [i.e., without using tempo rubato].”89 Henry Purcell notates staggered playing in the Almand from his harpsichord Suite in A Minor, mm. 15–16, in which he delays the downbeat of the top line by a sixteenth note while the bass line plays on the beat. This is an example of a written-out “fringing” technique. Staggered playing is an extremely effective tool on the harpsichord for bringing out certain notes and being expressive. It tends to work better in slower pieces, but it is left up to the discretion of the player to determine where to apply it. If overused or performed distastefully, it may sound sloppy, as if the keyboardist were unable to play notes at the same time. Just how long the performer waits to play the delayed note is a matter of artistic choice and, to use the familiar French expression, of “bon goût”: good taste.

Grace Notes and Trills Ornaments are a melodic salt that seasons the music and gives it flavor, without which it would be flat and insipid. As salt must be used prudently so that there is not too much nor too little (some meats require more and others less), so must the use of ornaments be applied with moderation. One must know how to discern where more are necessary and where fewer.90 Jean Rousseau, Traité de la viole

In my experience as both performer and teacher, one of the main concerns is how to play ornaments beautifully.91 Too often, especially for beginning students, when a grace note or trill is played, the fingers stiffen and fly up from the keys. The result is anything but graceful, much less emotionally moving. Marpurg complains about the same problem in the eighteenth century: “Young beginning students tend, particularly with trills and mordents, to tighten and force the muscles, with the intent of bringing out one [or another] tone, no matter how lightly quilled the keys may be.”92 Similarly, C. P. E. Bach taught: “The muscles must remain relaxed, or the trill will bleat [meckern] or grow ragged.”93 For most ornaments, such as appoggiaturas, mordents, and trills, in order to perform them with subtlety and variety, the keyboardist must have maximum control of the keys. To do so requires that the fingers remain “on the strings” in a supple, relaxed manner.94

Articulation

95

Example 3.9. J. S. Bach, Sonata, BWV 1027, for viola da gamba and harpsichord, II, mm. 1–4.

C. P. E. Bach devotes an entire, rather elaborate chapter of his Versuch to the art of playing embellishments. As to where they should be applied, he says: They are better suited to slow or moderate [pieces] than to rapid tempos, and to long rather than short notes. . . . [They] are best applied to those places where a melody is taking shape, as it were, or where its partial, if not complete, meaning or sense has been revealed. . . . Embellishments and their execution form a large part of good taste.95

Regarding the timing of their execution, he explains, “All ornaments stand in proportioned relationship to the length of the principal note, the tempo, and the [character] of a piece.”96 As seen in example 3.9, the second movement from J. S. Bach’s Sonata BWV 1027 includes appoggiaturas (Vorschläge in German) in both the keyboard and string parts. Bach writes them all as eighth-note grace notes, regardless of the length of the main note. Varying the lengths of these shortened, ornamental notes adds expressivity and dissonance to the harmony that would otherwise sound consonant. In C. P. E. Bach’s discussion of how to play a normal legato, he gives each note its full length, but gives the appoggiatura a prolonged duration. Together with the main note that it graces, there consists of an overlapping of sounds:

96

Historical Harpsichord Technique With regard to execution we learn from this figure that appoggiaturas are louder than the following tone, including any additional embellishment, and that they are joined to it in the absence as well as the presence of a slur. Both of these points are in accord with the purpose of appoggiaturas, which is to connect notes. They must be held until released by the following tones so that both are smoothly joined. An undecorated, light tone that follows an appoggiatura is called a release.97

Bach devotes several pages to the various ways an appoggiatura may be elongated. Playing the first note longer adds to the dissonance and delays the resolution. This method of overlapping the two notes allows for the second note to be “covered up” by the sound of the first note, making it sound quieter. Moreover, because the overlapping of sounds produces a blurring effect, it creates an enjoyable clarity after the second note is heard and the first note is released. It is like a picture coming into focus or strings coming in tune with one another. The amount of space before the appoggiatura also affects the way in which the player emphasizes the grace note and in turn makes the release note sound softer and more relaxed. In his detailed chapter about appoggiaturas, Quantz writes, “Accented appoggiaturas, or appoggiaturas which fall on the downbeat, are found before a long note on the downbeat following a short one on the upbeat.”98 Here he is referring to the articulation before the actual grace note, not to the space between the grace note and the note upon which it leans. Similarly, Saint-Lambert remarks in his Principes du clavecin on a connected way of touching the keys when playing the port de voix to create a diminuendo between the two notes.99 This mark drawn above the notes . . . is a slur, which means that those notes should be connected; that is, the fingers should not be lifted when playing, but should wait until the second of the two notes is played before lifting the finger from the first.100

Again, it is difficult to notate to what extent there should be a blurring effect. He goes into much less detail than C. P. E. Bach about elongating grace notes. It is left more to the discretion of the player and is dependent (as always) on context, tempo, and the resonance of a particular instrument. This artistic license is confirmed by Saint-Lambert: In the pieces which one studies, one may play them [ornaments] in places even where they are not notated, may remove those that are there if he finds

Articulation

97

that they don’t suit the piece, and add others according to his preference. He may even, if he so desires, disregard all those that I have taught here (excepting only the essential ones) and compose new ones according to his own taste, if he believes himself capable of inventing ones that are more beautiful. But he must be careful not to be too liberal in this area, especially in the beginning, for fear of ruining what he hopes to embellish by trying to be too refined too soon. This is because it is both good and necessary to follow others’ ornaments from the beginning, and to perform them only in those places where they are marked in the pieces, until one is advanced enough to discern that other ornaments would not be bad there. The student must be convinced, no matter how good his taste is for the harpsichord, that if he has only had six months of practice, he cannot tell what makes playing elegant as easily as those who have been in this profession for twenty or thirty years and who through this long experience have acquired a surer knowledge of what can beautify their art. Therefore, if the reader believes me, he will follow the ornaments that I teach in this book and that I propose with all the more freedom, since I have little personal interest in their being followed, as there are very few of my own; all the rest come from the most famous masters that our century has produced, which alone is sufficient to give them authority.101

Trills are mentioned in nearly all the treatises that discuss ornaments. Diruta recommends in Il Transilvano that the keyboardist embellish music with “tremoli [trills] and lovely accenti.”102 Specifically, he prescribes these embellishments for harpsichord, not organ, as a means to sustain harmonies and perpetuate the sounds from the quickly decaying vibrations of strings. Trills add shimmer, and like an arpeggio, they prolong a harmony. Finger technique, touch, and the speed at which a trill is played all help to create expressive nuance and dynamic contrast. For example, by starting slower, speeding up in the middle, and slowing down again at the end of a trill, a crescendo-diminuendo is produced (<>). Some keyboardists tend to play trills as if they were pasted hastily onto the page. Worse, they play every trill (even every ornament) in the same manner, regardless of its musical context. C. P. E. Bach discusses the challenge of playing trills: Trills are the most difficult embellishments, and not all performers are successful with them. They must be practiced industriously from the start. Above all, the finger strokes must be uniform and rapid. A rapid trill is always preferable to a slow one. In sad pieces the trill may be broadened slightly, but elsewhere its rapidity contributes much to a melody. . . . Never advance the speed of a trill beyond that pace at which it may be played

98

Historical Harpsichord Technique evenly. . . . When the upper tone of a trill is given its final performance it is snapped; after the stroke the upper joint of the finger is sharply doubled and drawn off and away from the key as quickly as possible. . . . The trill must be practiced diligently with all fingers so that they will become strong and dexterous. However, let no one believe that all the fingers may be made to trill equally well.103

Bach encourages keyboardists to practice trills from the start of keyboard lessons. He points out that practicing trills with all the fingers is beneficial for the development of finger strength and independence. His remark about the fingers having different strengths resonates with most keyboardists, but some individuals can perform trills successfully with any finger combination. Whereas Bach says trills are “uniform and rapid” and reserves the altering of speeds within a trill for slower tempos, Marpurg changes the speed within a trill, particularly when it is prepared with an appoggiatura: “The leaned-upon or prepared trill is when one remains a little longer on the accessory note before alternating the notes or when one starts slowly, gradually increasing the speed.”104 I find the practice of changing the speed within extended trills effective in any situation. Earlier repertory, including many virginal pieces and seventeenth-century Italian toccatas, often have notated trills that begin in slow, dotted rhythms that accelerate into evenly notated alternating notes. It is advantageous to practice grace notes and trills in different tempos, keys, and characters, as well as with various finger combinations in order to develop touch on the harpsichord. The more control there is of the plectra, by way of a developed finger technique, the more keyboardists broaden their ability to produce dynamic contrasts and theatrical expression from the instrument. It is detrimental to the music to perform all the ornaments uniformly. Even though French keyboard treatises reflect overall uniformity in their application of trills as set forth by their ornamentation tables, in actual performance more freedom of expression is required. By diversifying their execution, the ornaments will serve their purpose, which is to highlight, decorate, and accentuate various aspects of the music. The necessary contrast is like the painter who needs brushes of differing sizes and shapes to create detailed shading. Surely, we may apply Bénigne de Bacilly’s remark about the need for artistic license in vocal performances to our own idiom:

Articulation

99

Those who fancy themselves as great experts of the vocal art would not for anything in the world omit that preparation of the trill [he refers here to whether or not to include the appuyé, the prepared or supported trill] . . . as if it were of its essence, even in the case of the shortest trills. They consider it a crime to do otherwise and thereby render the performance dull and monotonous without realizing that the most universal rules have exceptions, which often produce more pleasing results than the rules themselves.105

I conclude this section with a quotation from Türk: By “ornaments” [I mean] those embellishments that are used in place of simple tones. The use of ornaments is manifold. They contribute markedly to the adornment of the melody; they animate it and make its tones more cohesive; they sustain attention; they give greater emphasis to those tones on which they are used so that a composition has a more telling effect; they strengthen the expression of the passions and feelings; and in addition to necessary variety, as it were, they bring light and shadow in a composition.106

Cantabile Several texts of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries encourage keyboardists to study voice and other instruments. Not only is this advisable in order to learn the art of phrasing, breathing, and cantabile playing, but because it enables players to make “even greater progress at the keyboard”107 and “leads [instrumentalists] more deeply into the meaning of the music.”108 Most keyboardists are familiar with the Italian term cantabile. We usually think of it as meaning “a singing style” or that which may be sung. Gioseffo Zarlino explained in his Le istitutioni harmoniche (1558) “that the parts [sections] of the song are singable; that is to say, they lend themselves well to being sung.”109 Over a century and a half later, Johann Gottfried Walther’s Lexicon describes cantabile in a similar way: “When a composition, whether for voices or instruments, is composed so that every voice or part is singable or each one contains its own melody.” Koch’s Lexikon includes the term’s usage as an autonomous tempo marking for a fairly unhurried speed, but surely this is not representative of the majority of pieces containing the Italian marking. Given the fact that Domenico Scarlatti gives a musical instruction for each of his harpsichord sonatas, it is clear he envisioned a tempo and mood for each.110 The majority of his keyboard sonatas are marked allegro, allegrissimo,

100


or presto, but a handful of them are marked cantabile. When cantabile appears, it is usually written together with another marking, such as andante, andantino, or moderato. Only a few are marked cantabile by itself. Some of these cantabile (or cantabile andante, etc.) sonatas seem singable, but others do not. In general, they seem more lyrical and flowing than many of his faster, more virtuosic sonatas. Some, but not all, of the sonatas marked cantabile feel songlike. Moreover, some resemble sonatas marked andante or moderato, leaving us to question what he means when he actually calls for cantabile. J. S. Bach rarely, if ever, mentions a type of articulation, yet cantabile appears on the title page of the fair copy of his Inventions and Sinfonias (1723): “Upright instruction wherein the lovers of the keyboard, and especially those desirous of learning, are shown a clear way . . . above all to arrive at a singing style of playing.”111 In his Livre d’orgue I, Nivers says, “One must consult the method of singing, for it is in this way that the organ learns how to imitate the voice.”112 Singers need to breathe in appropriate moments that coincide with musical and textual phrases. They also must convey words clearly and effectively. In addition, they should strive to produce a beautiful tone and a lyricism that is full of different dynamics. By learning to sing or by observing singers, keyboardists can emulate these vocal skills when playing the harpsichord. Thus I suggest that the term cantabile is a reminder to think lyrically and rhetorically like a singer who conveys text through music. C. P. E. Bach writes: “The whole approach to performance will be greatly aided and simplified by the supplementary study of voice and by listening to good singers.”113 He adds: The keyboardist will learn to think in terms of song. Indeed, it is a good practice to sing instrumental melodies in order to reach an understanding of their correct performance. This way of learning is of far greater value than the reading of voluminous tomes or listening to learned discourses.114

Most of the early sources do not specify what type of articulation should correspond with cantabile playing. Manfredini is one of the first writers in Italy to describe legato within the context of a cantabile style of playing. In his section “Del portamento della mano,” he discusses a “singing style” and its difficulty to achieve on the harpsichord. To do so, he teaches that a harpsichordist should not release a key until the next one is played. He insists that his method is to be followed “ma quasi sempre” (almost always).115

Articulation

101

Although we find only a few writers equating cantabile with a legato style, it is important not to associate legato solely with stile cantabile. What is important is for keyboardists to think vocally and lyrically as they play; they should be encouraged to sing the music in their heads while playing. It is also helpful to sing the music aloud when practicing, remembering to breathe at necessary and musical moments.116 Last, when working on a piece and trying to figure out what one “wants to say” with the music, one can make up a text for it and dramatize it like an actor.

Detached Playing We know from previously mentioned sources that all styles of articulation, ranging from detached to connected, are indeed a part of musical performances of the Baroque period. Certain performers leaned more toward one end of the spectrum. In this section, I include what some writers have to say about the detached style of playing. Some of these observations are positive; others are more critical. In a letter to his parents, Franz Schubert criticizes “the accursed chopping in which even distinguished pianoforte players indulge, and which delights neither the ear nor the mind.”117 Although this does not mean that late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century trends favored a detached style, it suggests that he observed performances that he disliked because of keyboardists’ choppy playing. This manner, choppy as it may have been, was likely the result of a transitional period in which the early piano was emerging. With the harpsichord still in fashion, keyboardists may have been adapting harpsichord technique to the piano. In addition, the sustaining power of the fortepiano was still in its early stages of development. Mozart’s performances were remembered by his successors for his detached style. Czerny, who could only have acquired such information through Beethoven, describes Mozart’s “distinct and considerably brilliant manner of playing,” which was “calculated rather on the staccato than on the legato.” Then [Beethoven] . . . called my attention to the legato which he himself controlled to such an incomparable degree, and which at that time all other pianists regarded as impossible of execution on the fortepiano, for even after Mozart’s day, the choppy, short detached manner of playing was the fashion. In the latter years, Beethoven himself told me that he had heard Mozart play on various occasions, and that Mozart, since at that time the invention

102

Historical Harpsichord Technique of the piano was still in its infancy, had accustomed himself to a mode of playing on the clavier [harpsichord?], then more frequently used, which was in no way adapted to the fortepiano. In the course of time, I also made the acquaintance of several persons who had taken lessons from Mozart, and found this remark justified by their playing.118

For seven years in Dorset, England, Muzio Clementi studied the works of J. S. and C. P. E. Bach, Handel, and D. Scarlatti. Records show that he practiced during this period only on a harpsichord, not a piano.119 The young Mozart, in a letter to his father (1782), criticizes Clementi, whom he says “is a mere mechanic.”120 Looking over Clementi sonatas, Mozart advised that his sister should “not practice his kind of music too much . . . so that she would not spoil her quiet, even touch, and so that her hand would not lose its natural lightness, flexibility, and smooth rapidity.”121 He added that Clementi’s music produces “an atrocious chopping effect.” It is unclear whether Mozart was criticizing Clementi’s compositions, his keyboard technique, or both. Regardless, it seems that over time Clementi developed a rounder, smoother way of playing. This may have been a direct result of technical maturity in conjunction with the development of the English fortepiano. Some material also points to Clementi having been inspired by listening to well known singers of the time.122 Clementi writes, “The best general rule is to keep down the keys of the instrument the full length of every note.” He adds: When the composer leaves the legato and staccato to the performer’s taste, the best use is to adhere chiefly to the legato, reserving the staccato to give spirit occasionally to certain passages, and to set off the higher beauties of the legato.123

Several earlier writers oversimplify playing styles. One such remark is by Justin Heinrich Knecht, who says in his Kleine theoretische Klavierschule (Munich, 1800–1802), “The ordinary harpsichord demands that the notes should be played with an elastic finger touch and be detached rather than held.”124 Johann Georg Sulzer observes in Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste in Einzeln (1771): “It is certain that the method of playing everything in a light and almost playful manner has become so widespread and has influenced the art of composition so profoundly that musicians seem ignorant of any profound or majestic expression in music.”125 Marpurg generalizes about periods in which connected or detached playing was the norm. “Our great masters strove to bind their playing; our new ones, to the contrary, seek to detach it, and consequently make their perfor-

Articulation

103

Example 3.10. Couperin, “Le Moucheron,” mm. 15–16; fingerings from L’art de toucher le clavecin, 66.

mance very thin and dry . . . a fault which speaks sufficiently for itself.”126 In addition to this comment being highly subjective, it is inconsistent with evidence from the sources, such as finger patterns found in manuscripts, that suggest the opposite trend in detached or legato playing styles. G. F. Wolf writes, “In today’s style of brilliant playing, the détaché [das Abstossen] is very common; in Allegro the runs are all played detached, if not expressly forbidden by the slur, as often happens.”127 Although he writes more about the clavichord, it is nonetheless interesting to read what he says on producing a détaché: One strikes the key with a stiff finger (as when playing a syncopation), and then immediately draws the finger back towards the player so that it slides off the front, and the key quickly springs back up. The tone, when thus struck on good clavichords, sounds rather as if the consonants “t’nt!” were sounding along with it; this “t’nt!” has a better effect than the “t’t” one gets when the finger releases the key without the slide-off.128

Example 3.10 is taken from Couperin’s Sixième Ordre, in which his fingering patterns (especially in the second of the two measures) suggest articulations in a detached style. Last, I include a lengthy selection from Le Gallois’s Lettre, in which he compares “ jeu coulant” (flowing playing) with the brilliant style, attacking players for being too careless and for playing without much soul. But when one observes closely, one finds that their trills are often too hurried, and as a consequence too abrupt, being produced by too much passion. Because they are unequally played and poorly sustained, which deprives the ornament of that which is most beautiful in playing; for there is nothing which embellishes it more, nor that can make it appear beneficial than to execute [it] equally and to sustain well. Those [keyboardists] who have a

104

Historical Harpsichord Technique rushed or faulty speed, who make their rhythm inaccurate because they make it uneven, and do not keep time well enough to ensure the ultimate accuracy—their playing is often confused, and they pass over so many keys that one only hears half of them, sometimes none at all. This is because they pass over [the keys] too quickly, do not play strongly enough for them to be heard, or they strike the keys instead of playing them in a flowing manner. In short, one observes in their playing nothing more than a perpetual trilling [une perpetuele cadence],129 which hinders one from hearing the melody of the piece distinctly, and they continually invent passages, particularly in octaves: something that Chambonnières rightly called cauldron-like playing. Thus these are the faults to which those who play with this brilliant style are commonly subject, [all for the purpose of] dazzling the world, and ignorance does not permit them to recognize. There are very few masters who do not succumb to these flaws.130

It is clear from these early sources that not every keyboardist in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was capable of effectively producing a detached articulation at the harpsichord. Some applied it too liberally, while others possessed poor technique. Deciding where to detach notes is only the first step in the process of articulating music. The more challenging part is calculating how much to detach notes. In addition to the finger technique necessary to achieve a high level of playing with these varying degrees of separation between notes, mental preparedness is required—that is to say, when one wants to emphasize a note by articulating it, one has to release the note prior to it. How quickly or slowly the finger releases from the preceding key affects the tone of the following key. Again, I reiterate the importance of close, constant contact between finger and key. Fingers that fly up and point in different directions cannot have much control over detailed nuances of articulation.

Silences Various sources list silence as a part of certain ornaments. To Couperin, inserting the aspiration and the suspension give soul (l’âme) to the harpsichord: Each note on the harpsichord has been fixed, and thus cannot be swelled or diminished. It has seemed nearly untenable, up until now, for anyone to give soul to this instrument. . . . The expressive effect that I propose makes its effect in the cessation and suspension of the notes, made appropriately and according to the character of the melodies of preludes and pieces. These two

Articulation

105

Example 3.11. Example 14. Couperin, Premier livre de pièces de clavecin (1713), “Explication des agréments, et des signes: Aspiration et Suspension.”

Example 3.12. Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, “Table des agréments: Suspension.”

ornaments [the aspiration and the suspension], by their contrast, leave the ear in suspense, so that on the occasions where bowed instruments make a crescendo on their notes, the suspension of [the notes] of the harpsichord, by a contrary effect, seems to make the ear hear what it expects.131

Couperin’s aspiration shortens the value of a note and thus creates a silence after it. The suspension delays the initial sounding of a note, thus inserting a brief silence before it. He tells us that when playing the aspiration, “it is necessary to detach the note over which it is placed, less quickly in tender and slow pieces than in those which are light and fast.”132 As for the suspension, he says, “It is rarely used except in slow and tender pieces. The silence before the note over which it is placed must be regulated by the taste of the performer.”133 Both he and Rameau include examples of these agréments in their tables of ornaments, first as they are notated, followed by an explanation of how they should be played, as seen in example 3.11 and 3.12. Saint-Lambert also has an ornament he calls “aspiration,” but it is not the same as Couperin’s, having nothing to do with silence.134 However, SaintLambert does illustrate the détaché, which he attributes to D’Anglebert and

106


which resembles Couperin’s aspiration. Saint-Lambert’s example provides two notes, the first of which has a détaché, the second of which has a tremblement.135 The first note is shortened and therefore produces a space before the trilled note. Saint-Lambert explains the importance of detaching the note before an ornament: Practicing this détaché is highly necessary in certain pieces of lively tempo, particularly when the note that precedes the trill is a degree higher, and that which precedes the mordent is a degree lower. It is not inappropriate in other pieces and on other occasions, but good taste will determine where you must use it.136

In the late 1700s, Marie-Dominique-Joseph Engramelle invented the tonotechnie, a machine designed to preserve and repeat performances by setting pins on a cylinder of a mechanical instrument. Through his recording experiments, he noticed that on keyboard instruments a finger that had just released from a note was often lifted “long before being placed on the next” and that this method was vital for producing short rests, which he called “silences d’articulation” between the notes. He felt that no note was exempt from the silence d’articulation. Engramelle’s work was expanded by François Bédos de Celles (known also as Dom Bédos), who claimed that it was “a manner of conceiving music entirely different from the one taught in all the treatises upon the art.” Dom Bédos says that the treatises failed to take into consideration “the combination of silences, held, and touched notes.”137 The musical examples above demonstrate how silence is notated as a type of ornament for expressive purposes. The absence of sound (and the shortening or delaying of a note) is not only ornamental; it has many functions in expressive playing. How we use silence at the harpsichord is analogous to how we pause in speech or how dancers hold their bodies motionless between different gestures. As in the spoken word, in music we insert silences to breathe and for dramatic expression. Pauses before and after notes are as much a part of our musical delivery and declamation as are the melody, harmony, and lengths of notes. The spaces between notes, notated or not, function in multiple ways. No matter how large or small the rest, a silence is used to clarify and to accentuate notes that follow and to separate ideas. The music does not stop during rests; it allows for a previous musical thought to “sink in,” as it were, allowing the listener to reflect upon an idea. Rests may also be pregnant with musical and dramatic expectation.

Articulation

107

How harpsichordists prepare to play a note (or chord) is as important as how they release from it. The silences at the ends of phrases, sections, and pieces are particularly critical. How one releases the final note(s) determines the final punctuation mark. A stupendously performed piece of music might be ruined by the lack of appropriate note release. In general, the speed of release usually mirrors the speed of the initial contact. A quickly spoken consonant at the beginning of a note usually beckons a quick release; conversely, a slow release corresponds with a slowly initiated tone. If the jacks are released too quickly after a piece in a slow character, it will sound like a noisy, sudden jolt.138 If, at the end of a fast, showy, boisterous piece, the fingers slowly peel off the keys one by one toward the palm of the hand, it will sound as if the confident character has fizzled out or become weak. At the ends of pieces, both when the tones are still sounding and when they have completely died out, listeners may hear and watch the movement of the fingers as they lift from the keys. How quickly or slowly the jacks are returned to their resting position affects the music’s drama and may make or break a performance. It is a skill to be learned and fine-tuned over time.

Agogic Accents In Koch’s Lexicon we read the definition of an accent: “The finger remains on an accented note of this type for a moment longer than its notated duration requires.”139 One of the many ways to emphasize a note or chord on the harpsichord is to give it an agogic accent, applicable for both solo and continuo playing.140 It involves three parts: (1) the shortening of the previous note (or chord) to create a silence before the note in question, (2) a slight delay of the note in question, and (3) the slight lengthening of that note. According to Türk, agogic accents are a natural way of playing, similar to a speaker accentuating important words or syllables by giving a slight pause or glottal sound before them, in addition to lingering on the first part of the word. In music, where to place an agogic accent is dependent on the importance of the note, the harmony, and the duration of the note and its relation to the remainder of the passage.141 Agogic accents may be applied liberally and generously, even when they are not specifically notated (such as with wedge marks). But in order for them to be musically successful, they must be implemented tastefully, which requires diversified degrees of inflection and emphasis, depending on the context and character of the piece. The release of the previous note and the placement of

108


the accented note (or chord) will change in each situation. An agogic accent in speech accentuates certain words or syllables that have special meaning or significance. Sometimes it is a word (or note) that is repeated multiple times. Stating them the same every time would produce a dull execution. The author or composer reiterates ideas to affect the listener emotionally. Accentuating each utterance with an increasing level of emphasis, such as through agogic accents, is one way of dramatizing the expression. Likewise, in painting, the artist highlights parts of a picture so that the spectator’s eye will notice those particular areas. In a musical setting, where, when, and how much the harpsichordist inserts musical highlights is a journey of artistic refinement.

Timing The preceding sections have dealt with different types of articulation on the harpsichord—“ordinary manner,” legato playing, and detached playing. What they do not mention is how the Baroque treatises describe the appropriate lengths of notes or silences. Constant and subtle manipulation of note lengths is an integral part of harpsichord technique and vital to expressive playing. Both C. P. E. Bach and Türk try to illustrate in their treatises how long to sustain a note within different musical contexts. According to Bach: Tones which are neither detached, connected, nor fully held are sounded for half their values, unless the abbreviation Ten. [hold] is written over them, in which case they must be held fully. Quarters and eighths in moderate and slow tempos are usually performed in this semidetached manner. They must not be played weakly, but with fire and a slight accentuation.142

Most of Bach’s discussions, however, define the manipulation of time in broader terms. He says that the performer may extend “certain notes and rests . . . beyond their written length, for affective reasons.”143 Türk dislikes the semidetached manner because it curtails notes by half their value: On the whole, this style of playing does not appear to me to be the best. For (1) the character of the piece makes some restrictions necessary, (2) the difference between the detached and ordinary manner of playing is virtually removed, and (3) it would make the performance too short [choppy] if every unslurred note were only held for half its value, with a rest taking up the second half.144

Articulation

109

When extending the length of a note beyond its notated value, Türk says that a note should never be prolonged by more than half its value. This is common sense (assuming he is not referring to notes with fermatas placed over them or notes at the end of a piece), for prolonging a note in mid-passage for more than half of its notated value could affect the stability of the rhythm and disrupt the harmony. Much of the material in Rellstab’s Anleitung mirrors that of Bach’s Versuch but pays closer attention to certain topics, such as unmarked notes and their note values in performance, especially when marked allegro or adagio: With regard to the value of unmarked notes, one must ensure that quarter and eighth notes in fast tempos such as the Allegro, etc., must only be held for half their intrinsic value; sixteenths are played with the greatest rapidity, but firmly; this also applies to eighth, sixteenth, and thirty-second notes in slow tempos. All long notes, such as full and half notes in Allegros, and quarter notes in Adagios, are held for their full value; but if these quarter notes in the Adagio do not form part of the melody, but rather the accompaniment, they are held for half their intrinsic value, and played short like all unmarked accompaniment notes.145

G. F. Wolf explains in his Unterricht im Klavierspielen that all notes should be held for their full value unless “other circumstances” prevent this, such as when indicated by dots or dashes.146 Sometimes there are clearly marked signs that tell us to prolong a note or a phrase, such as the + or ˆ signs found in many German treatises and compositions of the eighteenth century, which may signify an accent and/or a slight lingering on the note. It is a musical device that calls for a slight rubato but is not the same as the French inégal.147 Pasquali remarks that “the holding of the fingers upon the keys the exact length of the notes, produces the good tone; and the taking them off frequently before the Time, occasions the contrary.”148 We know from his treatise that he prefers legato playing,149 but does he really dislike the shortening of notes for expressive purposes? Or is he referring to a specific context or a bad technique? Sometimes, when a key is touched too quickly and struck harshly from above, rather than from on the string by depressing the key slightly with the fingertip, the tone quality will indeed sound poor. Couperin stresses the precise termination of a string’s vibration: “Take great care . . . not to prolong notes beyond the value of their duration.”150 Control of note lengths and the speed of their moment of release is possible

110


if one follows Couperin’s advice: “The sweetness of touch depends again on holding the fingers as close as possible to the keys.”151 These selected quotations represent only a small portion of the discussions of appropriate note lengths. It is clear that these early writers shared some ideas on the subject but differed in others. Likewise, modern performers, when interpreting pieces of music, can develop a sense of musicality and understanding that will make full use of varied articulations and subtleties of time manipulation.

4 Fingering• • All his fingers were equally skillful; all were equally capable of the most perfect accuracy in performance. He had devised for himself so convenient a system of fingering that it was not hard for him to conquer the greatest difficulties with the most flowing facility. From J. S. Bach’s obituary (1754), The Bach Reader

Comfort and Context Several keyboard sources spanning the late Renaissance through the late Baroque promote comfortable fingering patterns and flawless technique requiring minimal motion. The motivation behind such choices is the same—to communicate the expressiveness of the music. In his Arte de tañer fantasia, after several pages devoted to fingering scale passages, Sancta Maria adds this liberal approach to fingering: Fingerings are often combined in many other ways, so numerous that no rules can be given for them; these are up to the judgment of each individual, who may best use his ingenuity as the need arises.1

In his Syntagma musicum (1619), Michael Praetorius has a generous, cheerful attitude toward fingering choices: Let a player run up or down with the first or middle or third finger, ay, even with his nose, if that could help him, providing everything is done clearly, correctly, and gracefully.2

111

112


Of the late Baroque treatises, one of the most extensive discussions on the subject of fingering is by C. P. E. Bach in his Versuch. He devotes his first chapter to the topic and includes nearly one hundred rules, complete with diverse examples. Bach lists “correct fingering” first of the three factors important to playing the keyboard tastefully.3 Both C. P. E. Bach and his contemporary Marpurg espouse relaxed and comfortable fingering choices. Marpurg teaches: Place no finger upon a note without having previously looked at the notes to follow. Both comfort and proper positioning require this. . . . One must always choose a fingering that requires the least amount of movement in preference to that which necessitates a greater amount of movement.4

Similarly, Türk says, “The most comfortable fingering, or that which requires the least movement of the hands, is generally regarded as being the best.” He adds: It is well known that fingering [Applikatur] is an essential and in more than one respect a very important part of keyboard playing. Therefore, the student must work very diligently in the beginning to acquire commendable fingering habits, because it is not possible to play in a well-rounded and free-flowing manner when using poor and incorrect fingerings. It may also be maintained with certainty that a large measure of agility either cannot be achieved by poor fingering or then only with an inordinate amount of practicing. On the other hand, less time and effort are required to learn to play quite difficult pieces readily and well when correct fingering is used.5

Rousseau stresses the importance of comfort in his Dictionnaire de mu sique: To finger: To direct the fingers in a convenient and regular manner on any instrument, and principally on the organ or the harpsichord, in order to play on it with the most ease and skill possible. . . . There are two methods of playing on these instruments [organ and harpsichord]: accompanying and [solo or obbligato] pieces. To play pieces, we pay attention to the ease of the performance, and the elegance of the hand. . . . We must not place the same finger successively on consecutive keys, but make use of all the fingers of each hand.6

Comfort and convenience play significant roles in fingering choices, but musical declamation is the primary determining factor.

Fingering

113

The treatises and musical manuscripts reveal changes in compositional styles and taste through various means, one of which is fingering. The most notable difference in keyboard sources is the gradual shift from paired fingering to thumb-under patterns traceable from the late Renaissance through the late Baroque. Fingering examples from the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries reveal abundant paired fingering patterns. These are mostly executed with the three middle fingers, which facilitates shorter groupings of notes within florid passagework. This is not to suggest an overall detached manner of playing; rather, it implies a focus on great subtleties within each phrase, not only an emphasis on a long, lyrical line (which is more characteristic of the Romantic period). Likewise, examples of thumb-under usage may imply longer lines and more legato playing, but that does not negate the need for diverse articulations and inflections within a phrase. As unlikely as it would be to use paired fingering, for instance, when playing Chopin, it would be just as inappropriate to use only thumb-under patterns in virginal repertory. The particular instrument may affect decisions about fingering patterns. Playing on a muselar is a different experience than playing on an Italian, a Flemish, or a late French harpsichord.7 How one plays a piece is influenced by variations in general construction practices, individual voicing, touch, sound quality, and size of the keyboard, including the possibility of a short bass octave and/or split sharps in the lowest octave.8 The different features and qualities that distinguish harpsichords from one another affect musical phrasing, tempo, articulation, and fingering patterns. Just as interpreting a piece of music affects fingering choices, being historically informed about early fingerings can influence musical interpretation. If the desired effect is to play a passage legato, fingering patterns may be chosen that allow for smooth, connected playing. In contrast, fingering patterns can facilitate a brilliant, detached style. The context in which pieces are performed also affects fingering choices, one of our primary tools for musical declamation and expression. Context may include the size of the location and of one’s audience, the acoustics of the performance space, and the nature of the performance—solo or ensemble, with or without dancers, concert or background music, a sacred or secular occasion, and so on. Clothing is an influential factor as well. Occasionally, harpsichordists are asked to perform in period costume, when the elaborate dress, corsets, ruffles, layers, and decorative openings at the wrists may affect the ability to play at faster tempos.

114


The following sections address various topics pertaining to fingering patterns. They include discussions of touch and technique as they relate to issues of strong and weak beats, paired fingering, thumb usage, and contraction of the hand.

Strong and Weak Notes Fingering patterns at the keyboard help to convey the rhetorical aspects of music. As in most languages, music has hierarchical aspects. Were every note to be played exactly alike with the same inflection, the music would be monotonous, just as in speech. To articulate clearly in music, certain notes (or chords) receive more emphasis than others. Which notes to emphasize depends on several factors: whether they fall on strong or weak beats; whether their harmony creates a dissonance or consonance (the dissonances often receiving more emphasis, resolving into their consonant harmonies on weak beats); and syllabical stress, if applicable. Late Renaissance and Baroque treatises discuss musical declamation in terms of strong and weak notes, often expressed with “good and bad” fingers. Many of these sources favor paired fingerings as a way to convey differences between accented and unaccented notes. Diruta’s Il Transylvano says: As one final piece of advice, I should tell you which are the “good” and “bad” fingers, for we speak of fingers in the same way as we do the “good” and “bad” notes. They are indispensable for organists as well as for players of dances [harpsichordists].9

“Good” fingers are to be used on prominent notes, “bad” fingers on weaker notes. He labels the notes of his examples with the letters b for good finger (ditto buono) and c for bad finger (ditto cattivo). He gives primary importance to the three middle fingers and less attention to the thumb and little finger; however, he is unique in regarding the middle finger (3) as a bad finger. Despite it being a bad finger, he explains that it is nonetheless the finger used most often: Take care, however, that the third or middle finger needs to play all the bad notes, ascending and descending, as well as all the bad notes that leap. Besides this, it is the finger played most often because nothing may be done, whether ascending, descending, or leaping, without using it.10

Although Diruta insists that keyboardists follow his rules if they want to have good technique and effective musicianship,11 he makes exceptions to

Fingering

115

his rules, such as in regard to the third finger, especially in rapid diminutions and trills, where that finger may play good notes because the music moves so quickly one does not notice a difference: The bad notes often lend elegance to the good notes. Thus, in diminution, it is better to focus on making the ornaments decorative and light than to observe your [these] rules.12

Diruta departs from other Italian contemporaries in this matter, including Adriano Banchieri’s Conclusioni nel suono dell’organo, op. 20 (Bologna, 1609) or, several decades later, Lorenzo Penna’s Li primi albori musicali per li principianti della musica figurata (Bologna, 1672), which usually associates good notes with the middle finger. Others use the third finger interchangeably on both strong and weak beats. Contemporaries in the English virginalist school also favor the middle finger on good notes, such as in pieces by John Bull and Orlando Gibbons.13 Diruta’s practice of putting the third finger on weak beats reflects some of the earlier German sources, such as Buchner’s Fundamentbuch (1551). Other German composers of the time, such as Elias Nikolaus Ammerbach, use the middle finger for both good and bad notes.14 Depending on the context, Diruta’s 2323 patterns may have implications for lombardic rhythms (short-long short-long). His application of middle finger to bad notes also contrasts considerably with our modern application of strong and weak fingers, in which we tend to favor fingers 1, 2, and 3, with the ring finger (4) and little finger (5) being the weakest. Diruta’s ascending scales are played 2343434 in the right hand and 4323232 in the left hand if the beginning note is on a strong beat. He differentiates between the right- and left-hand fingerings when playing descending scales because he feels that the ring finger of the left hand is weaker than that of the right. Thus, if the right hand plays 4323232 in such a passage, the left hand might play 2323232, using just two fingers instead of three. He mentions the use of the thumb by some players in left-hand ascending passages, but discourages its use to avoid its landing on an accidental key, as this would thrust the hand into an unnatural position: “Truly, the thumb is very far from the black [accidental raised] key, and in order to reach it the whole hand is disturbed.”15 Diruta prefers certain intervals to be played according to his rules, such as putting fingers 2 and 4 on thirds, 2 and 5 on fourths, 1 and 4 on fifths, and 1 and 5 on octaves (he does not mention sixths). But he also reminds players in all situations to seek convenience, first and foremost.

116


To the keyboardist of today, such fingering combinations may at first seem awkward and cause the thumb or entire hand to feel tired or stressed. This may be especially true for students who come to the harpsichord from a background in piano. Tension only impedes our ability to play with paired fingering patterns. Even players of the sixteenth century had difficulty when learning to play with these early fingering patterns. Diruta observes: From much experience, I find one difficulty, and this is the manner of using the fingers of the right hand. When the fingers are playing an ascending passage, they straighten out. The index finger is tense, the thumb is forced beneath the hand, and the little finger is arched too much, causing the muscles of the hand to tighten and become tense, thereby inhibiting the agility of the other fingers. So it is that many organists, having acquired these bad habits from the start, rarely achieve the sonorous harmony that should be apparent in their playing, whereas had they kept their hands light and supple, they could play the most difficult passages with ease.16

From the Spanish keyboard sources, between the mid-sixteenth century and the early eighteenth, there are six writers who discuss keyboard fingering: Juan Bermudo, Luis Venegas de Henestrosa, Tomás de Sancta Maria, Hernando de Cabezón, Francisco Correa de Arauxo, and Fr. Pablo Nassarre.17 These sources are fairly consistent in their approach to early keyboard fingering. Despite the lack of discussion of good and bad fingers, the sources share the use of paired fingerings to achieve metrically accented or unaccented notes. Of particular interest is Sancta Maria’s description: [It is necessary] in making ascending runs with the right hand toward the upper register (which ascent is commonly executed with two fingers, the third and fourth), to raise the third finger more than the fourth after each stroke of the key, and not to raise the fourth more than is sufficient to separate or detach it from the key, so that it will appear as though it were being drawn along the keys. Moreover, the fourth finger must strike the tips of the keys, with the third further in, and the second finger must remain somewhat contracted and more elevated than the third. With the second finger held in this fashion, it must adhere to the third finger, and thus the hand achieves more force. Without all this it is impossible to produce ascending notes with perfection.18

Sancta Maria takes into account both the shape of the hand and the muscular ability of the fingers. Too often, modern keyboardists, especially those

Fingering

117

Figure 4.1. Hand position using paired fingering of the middle and ring fingers as described by Sancta Maria. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

new to the concept of early fingerings, will attempt to play these fingering patterns with their fingers completely parallel, or too flat, too curved, or too far from the keys. Owing, perhaps, to a natural response when trying something new and seemingly difficult, they frequently tighten their wrists, which works against their efforts. The wrists need to be supple and flexible. According to Sancta Maria, the middle finger, which is usually the longest, is held further into the keys. The ring finger, which is generally the weakest finger, should not be lifted off the keys. By sliding it along the keys, the middle finger may cross over it. It helps to do this by turning the hand slightly outwards and opening up the palm. In doing so, the thumb and little finger naturally relax and lean slightly in toward the other fingers or under the palm while the three middle fingers play. Figure 4.1 demonstrates my right hand playing in this manner. Paired fingering patterns continue to appear in treatises and musical manuscripts throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In 1665, Nivers provides a scale fingering that uses the thumb along with such patterns. In example 4.1, his choice of 3434 (and other adjacent fingers) on weak

118


Example 4.1. Nivers, Livre d’orgue I, “De la position des doigts.” The eighth rest, second measure, is original and probably meant to be a quarter rest.

Example 4.2. Alessandro Scarlatti, Toccata no. 1, mm. 6–9.

beats naturally produces a strong-weak accent, a slight long-short long-short rhythm, and possibly a slurred two-note pattern. Alessandro Scarlatti’s keyboard toccatas have received relatively little attention. Unlike the prolific output of keyboard sonatas by his son Domenico, Alessandro is remembered more for his vocal works. More didactic in nature, and nowhere near as harmonically rich or diverse in texture as toccatas by Frescobaldi or Froberger, they are worth studying for the composer’s fingerings. Scarlatti’s inconsistency is intriguing; in the fingerings in his Toccata no. 1 in G Major, for instance, he employs nearly every type of fingering pattern imaginable, including modern scale fingerings that use the thumb, paired fingerings, fingerings in which the middle finger crosses over the fourth, patterns where fingers 2 and 4 play on repeated descending adjacent notes, and so on. Occasionally, he even puts the thumb on a raised accidental key and uses different fingerings for repetitions of the same passage, as, for example, near the beginning of his toccata (see example 4.2), where he has ascending and descending scales in C major, first in the right hand and then in the left. The right hand ascends with the fingers 12343435, but when the left hand imitates this passage, it uses 54321321, a more modern system, in which the middle finger crosses over the thumb, enabling a more connected articulation. It seems

Fingering

119

Example 4.3. Alessandro Scarlatti, Toccata no. 1, mm. 27–28.

Example 4.4. A. Scarlatti, Toccata no. 1, mm. 43–44.

he intended a specific type of phrasing for each passage, because his descent in the right hand uses a modern fingering of 54321321 (like the left hand’s ascent), and the descent in the left hand mirrors the right hand’s ascending passage, using 1234343(4). Also, he may be acknowledging more suppleness for the paired fingers in the left hand. Similarly, he employs different fingerings in separate appearances of another type of passagework, such as when pairs of notes descend in twos, using LH32323232 in one instance but LH4242424 in its repeat occurrence. Compare the fingering patterns in examples 4.3 and 4.4. Multiple purposes may be inferred from the fingerings supplied in this toccata: that Scarlatti wants varied articulations for the same type of passages, or that he wants to demonstrate that there are numerous ways to finger a passage or else to develop flexibility by using nonadjacent fingers. Fingering patterns apply not only to passages, such as scales and runs, that may require paired fingerings but to chords and grace notes as well. As mentioned earlier, we often decipher good and bad notes by which beat they fall on as well as by their harmonies. To emphasize the dissonance and its consonant resolution, the keyboardist may do a number of things, such as articulate before the beat, arpeggiate the chord, lengthen the note, and slur strong notes to weaker notes. For instance, in John Dowland’s Pavana Lachrymae set by William Byrd (example 4.5), in the first beat of m. 2 there is a strong beat with a dissonant harmony (the interval of the seventh created between the A and B-flat) followed by a G on a weak beat. Articulating before this chord will emphasize this dissonance. A practical fingering choice here might be to place the third and fifth fingers

120


Example 4.5. John Dowland, Pavana Lachrymae, set by William Byrd, mm. 7–8.

Example 4.6. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasia, f. 44.

of the right hand on the A and D of m. 2 so that the A slurs into the G with the second finger. In doing so, a dynamic shape is created that produces a crescendo into the downbeat of the second measure and a diminuendo when the A moves to the G. Diversity of fingering choices (and thus the possible varied types of ar ticulation) enhances the rhetoric, drama, and overall expression of a piece. The more supple one’s fingers, the more easily these subtleties may be realized.

Use of the Thumb Because our forerunners rarely used the thumb, it got in the way. Hence they often found that they had too many fingers. . . . Today, despite improvements in the use of the fingers, we find, at times, that we have too few of them. C. P. E. Bach, Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard Instruments

One of the more frequently asked questions is whether or not early keyboard fingerings make use of the thumb. Realistically, the thumb is indeed a part of early keyboard playing, but practice changed over 250 years. Both treatises and music manuscripts from the late sixteenth century to the late seventeenth include the thumb less than those of the eighteenth century, but they do not exclude it. It may come as a surprise to some musicians that what we

Fingering

121

Example 4.7. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasia, ff. 40v, 43.

consider “modern” scale fingerings (RH12312345 ascending or RH54321321 descending) appear in sources as early as the sixteenth century, such as in Sancta Maria’s treatise (example 4.6). His treatise contains numerous examples of how to finger scale passages in diatonic keys.19 Scale passages with longer note values have more paired fingerings, while the same passages with smaller note values employ four-finger patterns that include the thumb (see example 4.7). Corrette, writing nearly two centuries after Sancta Maria, uses a similar fingering. The right hand plays a descending C-major scale with the fingers 43214321 and 12341234 for the ascending scale. The left hand employs the same fingering, but in the opposite direction.20 Manuscripts of the early virginalist repertory, from both the Dutch and English schools, use paired fingering as well as the thumb. In fact, much of the virginal repertory is so virtuosic that it requires the use of the thumb in many passages. This applies, for instance, to many pieces by John Bull, Giles Farnaby, and Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck. The thumb is especially necessary in the pieces with more chord-like textures, as in some of Sweelinck’s Mein Junges Leben variations. Similarly, evidence of increasing frequency of thumb usage in the eighteenth century does not mean that the earlier methods of paired fingerings and the predominance of the middle fingers were no longer in fashion. Nevertheless, the thumb was not used as often as in current fingering practices. As early as 1650, Denis advocated equal inclusion of the thumb: When I started to study, teachers said as a maxim that one should never play with the thumb of the right hand; but since then I have realized that if one had as many hands as Briareus had, one would use all of them, even if there were not enough keys on the keyboard.21

122


Example 4.8. Couperin, L’art de toucher le clavecin, “Manière plus commode pour les tons dièsés et bémolisés.”

Couperin reflects this pivotal point of evolving fingering practices in the way in which he starts scale passages with the thumb, but, as in the case of an example in G Mixolydian, he completes the ascending passage with a paired fingering pattern of 3434 in the right hand.22 Or, as seen in example 4.8, he begins an A major scale with the thumb but does not cross the thumb under after playing the third note; instead, he uses fingers 12342345. This fingering opens up articulation to create a gesture that seems to grow in volume or gain a feeling of lifting off the ground, slightly suspended in time and space, at the top of the scale. Couperin purports to be the inventor of the new, more progressive fingering method, claiming, “Until now there has not yet appeared any method for the harpsichord.”23 His own fingerings, he feels, represent the “modern style.” In addition, he feels they are not just preferable but “the true way,”24 in particular, for passages with thirds. Example 4.9 is Couperin’s representation of the old way of playing. Example 4.10 shows his “modern manner” of playing this same passage in a more connected way. He adds boldly: I am certain that few people in Paris are still infatuated with the old maxims, Paris being the center of what is good. But as up until now, there has been no method dealing with good taste in playing, and as this one may be read elsewhere, I felt that nothing should be omitted.25

Couperin’s “early” fingering patterns for playing consecutive thirds appear to be invented by him, not based on an earlier treatise or example. His proposed “old” fingerings are unrealistic, in that they create an articulation between every eighth note and avoid any relationship between strong and weak beats, grouped notes, or phrasing. Ironically, he includes “early” fingerings in some of the preludes in his L’art de toucher le clavecin, where he gives right-hand patterns of 12334 for an ascending five-note scale passage that is embraced by a slur, or 5433232 for a descending scale passage.26 Furthermore, his claim about being the first and only author to discuss beautiful and tasteful harpsichord playing has an air of self-righteousness. Clearly, he was not

Fingering

123

Example 4.9. Couperin, L’art de toucher le clavecin, “Manière ancienne de faire plusieurs tierces de suite.”

Example 4.10. Couperin, “Façon moderne pour couler ces mêmes tierces.”

aware of the fingered examples left by the English virginalists that reveal the same pattern he suggests for parallel thirds.27 Hartong’s Clavier-Anweisung also provides an example for fingering thirds but uses fingers 1 and 3 on strong beats and 2 and 4 on weak beats or, as a second possibility, 1 and 4 alternating with 2 and 5 in the same manner.28 His treatise, published more than thirty years after L’art de toucher le clavecin, reflects the growing trend toward the inclusion of the thumb. Saint-Lambert, whose Principes du clavecin antedates Couperin’s L’art de toucher le clavecin by fourteen years, similarly reflects a transition period for fingering scales. Saint-Lambert is more inclusive of the thumb in his section “Remarques,” in which he favors equal use of all the fingers: Because if one observes all the skillful Parisian masters, one will find that those who are distinguished the most by the beauty of touch and surety of execution are those who make equal use of all their fingers.29

In the fingered passages of his treatise, he combines thumb patterns with paired fingerings. One example is an A Dorian scale, for which the right hand plays 12343434 when ascending and 54323232 when descending; similarly, the left hand plays a G Mixolydian scale using fingers 43212121 when ascending and 12343434 when descending.30 Rameau, whose remarks on using the thumb in continuo playing are rather conservative,31 is more inclusive of the thumb in solo playing, in particular for roulements.32

124


Example 4.11. Miller, Institutes, C-major scale, part 2, progressive lessons for practice.

Example 4.12. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, lesson 7.

To continue a roulement . . . one simply needs to get used to passing the thumb under any desired finger and to passing one of these other fingers over the thumb. This manner of playing is excellent, especially when the roulement includes sharps and flats; more specifically, it enables the practice of certain batteries.33

Miller provides a modern fingering in his Institutes for a C-major scale (example 4.11; the thumb is marked +). Pasquali also uses the thumb (marked 0) in scale patterns (example 4.12). Pasquali’s right-hand fingering mirrors a modern scale pattern of 12312345. Note where he puts the thumb for the left hand: on C and F instead of C and G. This puts more strain on the hand, requiring a wider stretch of the thumb when it passes under the palm after the fourth finger plays G. I see no meaningful intention here other than the possibility that it was either a mistake or a way to present different options of playing scales, similar to the inconsistencies seen in the Alessandro Scarlatti examples.

Fingering

125

C. P. E. Bach describes the thumb as the finger that most determines the relaxed nature of good keyboard technique: Those who do not use the thumb let it hang to keep it out of the way. Such a position makes even the most moderate span uncomfortable, for the fingers must stretch and stiffen in order to encompass it. May anything be well executed this way? The thumbs give the hand not only another digit but also the key to all fingering. This principal finger performs another service in that it keeps the others supple, for they must remain arched as it makes its entry after one or another of them. . . . Those passages, which, without the thumb, must be pounced upon with stiff, tensed muscles, may be played roundly, clearly, with natural extension, and a consequent facility when it lends its assistance. This principal finger performs a service because it keeps the other fingers flexible in that they must bend every time that the thumb presses in next to one or another finger. . . . It is self-evident that the slackness of the [tendons] and the curving of the fingers cannot be maintained in leaps and wide stretches . . . but these are very rare occasions, and Nature herself teaches them.34

My experience shows that a much rounder, pleasing tone may be produced from the harpsichord when the hand does not stretch (except in cases where it is necessary to hold notes down in wide leaps). When the hand does not need to hold notes down for a leap, stretching the fingers causes unnecessary tension in the hand. A more relaxed hand position allows for more control. In leaps, a better tone is produced when the fingers peal off from each key and move gracefully with the whole hand to the next note. We know that Bach supports the need for relaxed tendons when playing the keyboard. His comments suggest that he has seen poor hand and finger movements, due to stiff tendons and tight muscles, which he claims were caused by not using the thumb. Indeed, there are numerous passages that may be played roundly and clearly without the thumb, but it depends on the context and on the individual technique of the player. For his music, it is necessary to employ all of the fingers. C. P. E. Bach reflects upon hearing his father talk about the less frequent use of the thumb by earlier keyboardists: My deceased father told me that in his youth he used to hear great men who employed their thumbs only when large stretches made it necessary. Because he lived at a time when a gradual but striking change in musical taste was

126

Historical Harpsichord Technique taking place, he was obliged to devise a far more comprehensive fingering, and especially to enlarge the role of the thumbs and use them as nature intended; for, among their other good services, they must be employed chiefly in the difficult tonalities. Hereby, they rose from their former uselessness to the rank of principal finger.35

Türk shares C. P. E. Bach’s view of employing as many fingers as possible. In fact, both of these eighteenth-century German authors banter about wanting even more than the given ten fingers: All fingers must be utilized in playing, for there are certain passages which, without the thumb or the little finger, may either not be played at all or, at least, only clumsily and falteringly. Therefore, it is not correct to let these two fingers be idle—especially the thumb—or to use them only in time of utmost need. Our present compositions are for the most part so constituted that one often wishes for even more fingers. Formerly this wish would probably have been superfluous, because the older manner of composition was quite different from ours now. At present, it is not possible to play some passages reliably without the thumb, assuming that one does not want his hands always jumping back and forth on the keyboard or even have his arms moving about here and there. Those who play in this manner certainly do not exhibit the best execution.36

Although Türk does not specify to which textures he refers, I suspect he means multi-voice in fugues, larger and more diverse chords, flashier virtuosic pieces that require hand-crossings, the frequency of diatonic scale passages, etc. These musical textures are frequent in pieces from the High Baroque (although they are found in some earlier pieces as well). A few of Domenico Scarlatti’s sonatas contain chords that require not only every finger but some fingers to play more than one note at a time; they are the tone clusters of the eighteenth century! J. S. Bach’s partitas, Handel’s suites, and C. P. E. Bach’s sonatas and fantasies are full of chordal textures and virtuosic running passages that require all the fingers, especially the thumb as a pivot finger. Even among the writers advocating equal application of all the fingers, there is no one who encourages the use of the thumb on a raised key, except on rare occasions. Sancta Maria is among the earliest authors to discuss this practice: “One must never strike a black note with the thumb except when playing octaves with either hand, or when through necessity nothing else can be done.”37 Over a century later, Saint-Lambert’s fingerings show that the three middle fingers primarily play accidentals because that forms a good

Fingering

127

Example 4.13. C. P. E. Bach, Versuch, chap. 1, fig. 47.

hand posture and keeps the hand parallel to the keys. Other authors who similarly caution against using the thumb on accidentals discuss this in contexts where the thumb acts as a pivot. For instance, C. P. E. Bach writes: Crossing and turning, the principal means of changing the fingers, must be applied in such a manner that the tones involved in the change flow smoothly. In keys with few or no accidentals, the crossing of the third finger over the fourth and the second over the thumb is in certain cases more practicable and better suited for the attainment of unbroken continuity than other crossings or the turn. With regard to the latter, when a black [accidental] key acts as the pivot the thumb is conveniently provided with more room in which to turn than in a succession of white keys. In keys without accidentals crossing should cause no stumbling, but in the others care must be exercised because of the black keys.38

A few pages later he writes, “From the study of these scales we learn that the thumb is never placed on a black key, that it may be used after the second finger, after the second and third fingers, or the second, third, and fourth, but never after the fifth.”39 Examples 4.13 and 4.14 demonstrate his admonition against using both the thumb and little finger on raised keys, even when the thumb would facilitate an easier stretch to the following note. In these passages, depending on the size of the hand and its ability to stretch the span of an octave with the index and little finger, Bach’s fingerings favor a more connected style for adjacent notes but a more articulated separation of octaves.40 Bach does, however, present an exception, because he

128


Example 4.14. C. P. E. Bach, Versuch, chap. 1, fingering, fig. 64.

Example 4.15. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, chap. 5, “Of Thumbs with Flats,” fig. 18.

values comfort and relaxation in playing. Despite the fact that he says, “The thumbs and the little fingers of both hands should seldom be employed on the raised keys,” he admits. “A slight discomfort being preferable to a great one, it is better to commit the little finger or the thumb to a black [accidental] key than to omit them and cause an excessive, hazardous stretch.” 41 Contrary to his dislike of thumbs on raised keys, he presents some fascinating fingering patterns that allow certain fingers to cross over rather than under, such as putting the index finger over the little finger in the right hand. Unless the finger releases slightly early from the tied F, this fingering is not comfortable. If he insists on placing the second finger on the G following the tied note, finger substitution on the F would make this shift much smoother. Pasquali also says that the thumb is to be used neither on accidental keys (see example 4.15) nor in intervals smaller than a seventh, unless the highest and lowest notes are on accidental keys (and are too wide to play with fingers other than the thumb and little finger).42 Example 4.16 demonstrates his avoidance of the thumb on raised keys in an arpeggiated passage. Türk permits the use of the thumb and little finger on raised keys only rarely unless “the passage in question is such that no other way of playing it is possible, for these more distant keys cannot easily be reached by those two

Fingering

129

Example 4.16. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, “Of Thumbs with Flats,” fig. 19.

fingers without movement of the hands.” He adds the following exception: “On the other hand, for skips and wide stretches, one may and must, in some circumstances, use the thumb as well as the fifth finger on raised keys.” 43 Octaves, in his opinion, do not necessitate thumbs on raised keys, unless other fingers are holding notes down and would thus require the little finger to play an accidental key. He describes one other exception: Another permissible motion of the type being discussed is referred to as sliding (when in certain cases a finger is placed on a raised key and then pulled down to an adjacent lower key). . . . This type of sliding is used for detached as well as legato passages.44

Marpurg avoids the little finger on raised keys because it requires more effort and is uncomfortable: Since the little finger is closer to the keys than the thumb is, one may consequently use it to play the smaller keys [accidentals] more easily than with the thumb. But since one always requires more effort to play the accidentals than the larger keys, and since the little finger is the weakest of all the fingers, this is also the reason that it is not necessary to employ it upon accidentals as long as one is able to play the passage more comfortably with the other fingers. But if this is no longer the case, one is free to use the little finger on accidentals, whether in running through scales, or in arpeggios, in sustained passages in one or two parts, by steps or leaps, etc.45

Miller advises: “Never use the thumb on the short keys, except in very particular cases of many sharps or flats, where it cannot always be avoided.” In addition: “The natural place of the right hand thumb in ascending notes is immediately after, or to the right of the short keys [raised] and in descending [passages] its place is immediately before a short key. . . . The natural place for the bass or left hand thumb ascending is before a short key, and in descending [passages it] is generally immediately after a short key.” 46

130


In Instructions for the Piano-forte or Harpsichord, Matthew Camidge does not mention accidental notes specifically, but he does remark on the thumb’s role as a pivot finger in scale passages: “In ascending the octave in the right hand, slide the thumb neatly under the fingers; and in descending passages, put the fingers neatly over the thumb, bend the fingers, and keep the wrist up.” 47 Nassarre also advises keyboardists to avoid putting the thumb on raised notes: “Although with intervals of fifths and sixths, when the upper voice is on a black key, it is more natural to play it with the index and little finger in order to avoid the forced movement of situating the hand.” 48 Rameau, who like most French composers of keyboard music at this time infrequently wrote pieces with many accidentals in the key signature, teaches: Avoid, as much as possible, playing a sharp or a flat with the thumb or little finger, especially in running passages, making sure that when a sharp or a flat is to be played that the thumb rests on the preceding key, as this will facilitate your execution.49

In his Dissertation, which concerns continuo playing, he writes: The thumb is not easily placed on a sharp unless the other fingers are placed on natural keys. . . . If you happen to have such a small hand that you cannot reach a seventh on the keyboard without the thumb, which is very rare, except in children, then arpeggiate the chord, beginning with the lowest finger, and let go of this finger the moment the little finger is to be placed on its key. This aid has always been a success for me with young people, without their execution suffering from it in the least. . . . Do not think, furthermore, that I am excluding the thumb from the chords altogether. I am saving it for doubling their notes, by placing it always at the octave of the little finger. But I am taking good care to recommend this only when one is master of the remainder.50

Contraction of the Hand A few eighteenth-century treatises discuss the contraction of the hand, a motion that consists of a frequent, subtle opening and closing of the palm. This graceful and gentle motion avoids forceful playing and facilitates good technique, which in turn allows for a beautiful tone. Pasquali explains contraction in more detail:

Fingering

131

Example 4.17. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, “Contraction of the Hand,” figs. 12–13.

To understand what is meant by contraction, we must suppose a passage consisting chiefly of consecutive or following notes exceeding the compass of five, for which two fixed positions of the hand are necessary. . . . The contraction then happening betwixt the last note of the first position and the first note of the second; observing, that the one is played by the thumb and the other by the little finger; which contracts, as it were, the natural space betwixt these two fingers.51

A few pages later, he adds: By this time it must be obvious to the diligent learner, that the whole drift of the foregoing rules is to enable us to keep the fingers down upon the keys the entire length of the notes; of the necessity of which a little experience will convince; nor will the rules for that purpose seem too intricate, if we consider, that when passages do not exceed the compass of five notes, they are played in one fixed position of the hand; and when they exceed that number, by extending or spreading the fingers . . . but when one single note . . . breaks the continuation, [they are played] by contracting the fingers upon that note [so that] we will be enabled to play them all, without quitting the key of any note before its time. And that when we do not have the advantage of a rest, we must have recourse to the thumb, which while it is playing will give sufficient leisure, by its shortness, to the other fingers to pass over it in descending, or whilst the other fingers are playing, it will easily pass under them in ascending.52

Example 4.17 shows one of Pasquali’s fingered musical exercises for contracting the hand. In his Code de musique pratique, Rameau alludes to a graceful opening and closing of the hand position: As the hand opens, the fingers lose their roundness; but when left to act with their own movement, they determine how the hand should adjust to the smaller or bigger intervals that [the fingers] encompass, and all work with ease; even the little finger adjusts in turn by advancing less on the key.53

132


Example 4.18. Miller, Institutes, contracting the fingers.

Example 4.19. Sancta Maria, four-note scale passages.

Miller discusses contraction in his Institutes: Perhaps there is nothing more necessary in order to play well, than to attain a thorough knowledge of contracting the fingers. It is from a want of this knowledge that for many performers, finger passages [are played] in an improper manner.54

He then provides two measures of the same passage (see example 4.18). Over the first measure he writes, “Example of the method many performers [use to] finger the following passages,” and over the second, “The same passage as it ought to be play’d by contracting the fingers.” He adds: It may be observed that by the first way of fingering the above passage, the position is alter’d at the end of every four notes, consequently the vibration of the Strings is interrupted, nor can every note be of an exact length. But in the second way, by contracting the Fingers, there appears from the effect, to be but one position: the Notes being all of a [i.e., the same] length, causes a better Tone to be produced from the Instrument.

Although detached playing is possible with the fingering provided in the second measure, it suggests a more legato style by allowing adjacent fingers to play on the last and first sixteenth notes of every four-note pattern. Contraction of the hand is a concept not only used in the eighteenth century but in the late sixteenth century as well. Although it may not be labeled specifically as “contraction,” we see similar fingering patterns in early Spanish treatises, such as by Sancta Maria (example 4.19).

Fingering

133

Figure 4.2. Hand position just after playing 4321, preparing to place the fourth finger down on the key. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

Sancta Maria offers two distinct methods of fingering the passage. Using the repeating pattern 43214321 demands a slight contraction of the hand at the moment at which fingers 1 and 4 follow one another. I call it the “crab walk” because of its horizontal, repetitive opening and closing motion. This fingering permits a fairly steady wrist. The alternate fingering of 43234323 requires less of a contraction in the hand than it does a crossing of 3 over 2. It calls for a slight flexibility in the wrist, which, by opening up on the little finger side to turn inward toward the thumb, facilitates a smooth execution of the alternate fingering. The fact that he offers various options for fingering this (and other) passages demonstrates his open-mindedness on the subject. I conclude this section with two photos taken of my hand contracting while playing passages similar to the one given above by Sancta Maria in example 4.19, seen in figures 4.2 and 4.3.

Artistic Freedom Despite the detailed lessons provided by various treatises, some authors leave room for artistic license. Pasquali is among them:

134


Figure 4.3. Hand position after the fourth finger has been placed down, preparing to play the 4321 descending pattern. Photo by Wolodymyr Smishkewych.

When they [these rules] are perfectly understood, still there is room for the genius of the performer to improve upon them, by altering now and then a finger with a view to avoid any uncouth stretch of the fingers, or to introduce a grace, or a chord.55

This is important to remember, especially when a student is seeking the “right” way to finger a given passage. The shape of the hand determines what feels comfortable, which, of course, changes from person to person. The shapes of the musical phrases, however, suggest certain characters, which in turn necessitate varied articulations. Carefully thought-out fingering patterns help to aid the expression of these phrases. I fondly quote the well-known Dutch harpsichordist Jacques Ogg, whom I heard say to students in a master class, “I prefer not to use the term ‘early fingerings’; I prefer to call them ‘expressive fingerings.’”56 How simply and eloquently this comment describes the importance of deciding which fingers to use at the harpsichord. By exploring fingering patterns outside of modern, standard ones that exploit thumb-under usage, harpsichordists will develop more dexterity of the three middle fingers and, as a result, be able to employ

Fingering

135

more diverse articulations. All fingering patterns should be for expressive purposes, regardless of which fingers are used. Bearing in mind that some fingering patterns may have been written by someone other than the composer, consulting the fingerings in musical manuscripts and treatises gives insight into different ways of fingering, articulating, and phrasing various musical passages. Harpsichordists should practice running passages with paired fingerings as well as ones that require the thumb to pass under another finger. They should also practice playing simple five-note CDEFG patterns with the same fingers but with different articulations. Trills and other ornaments should be practiced in all keys and with diverse finger combinations. When practicing these and other exercises, it is important to remember at all times to maximize the control of the fingers and fingertips by maintaining a close connection to the keys. One of the benefits of practicing simple, isolated exercises is that it allows the eye to observe the hands and fingers carefully without having to focus on the score. By careful observation of the fingers when playing, harpsichordists can become their own teachers.

Conclusion

• To summarize, the main points needed to achieve a good technique include but are not limited to (1) the use of an excellent instrument, (2) good musical training, (3) an upright and comfortable posture, (4) frequent practice, (5) relaxation, (6) supple fingers with independent and even strength, and (7) finger connection to the quill against the string. The following tools are needed in one’s musical vocabulary: (1) variety of touch and articulation, (2) diversity of fingering patterns, (3) imagination, and (4) a sense of drama. Improving touch at the harpsichord may also be enhanced by listening to others play, both in live performance and on recordings. The above-listed factors account for J. S. Bach’s flawless technique at the keyboard, as described by Forkel: Bach’s easy, unconstrained use of the fingers, his musical touch, the clarity and precision of every note he struck, the resourcefulness of his fingering, his thorough training of every finger of both hands . . . all contributed to give him almost unlimited power of his instrument.1

One of the challenges in developing good technique is attaining strong, independent fingers that retain suppleness and relaxation. As with an athlete or a dancer, the fingers need to be both autonomous and limber. In many ways, the old saying “less is more” applies to harpsichord touch. There is a graceful poise required of the fingers, no matter what the mood: whether slow and sustained, or fast and virtuosic. In striving for this most refined and elegant manner of touching the harpsichord—la douceur du toucher—the harpsichordist may achieve a solid technique and a beautiful tone.

136

Appendix Brief Biographical Notes on People Mentioned in the Text

Agricola, Johann Friedrich (1720–74) German composer and writer on music. A student of J. J. Quantz and also C. P. E. Bach, with whom he collaborated on an obituary of his father, J. S. Bach, in 1754.

Bach, Johann Christian (1735–82) German composer and keyboardist. The youngest son of J. S. Bach. Collaborated with F. P. Ricci on Méthode ou receuil de connaissances élémentares pour le piano forte ou clavecin (ca. 1788).

Ammerbach, Elias Nikolaus (ca. 1530–97) German organist and arranger of key board music. His earliest publication, Orgel oder Instrument Tabulatur (1571, 2/1583), was one of the first collections for the organ to be printed. It also introduced a new German organ tab lature, in which letters were assigned to pitches with rhythm-signs above them. According to Ammerbach, the pieces in it could be played on vari ous keyboard instruments, including harpsichord. His second publication, Ein new künstlich Tabulaturbuch (1575), included vocal intabulations and a praeambulum.

Bach, Johann Sebastian (1685–1750) German composer and keyboard player. Recognized during his lifetime for his ingenuity as a keyboard virtuoso and remembered posthumously as one of the greatest composers of the Baroque period. Admired for the versatility of his musical language, mastery of fugal writing, and prolific output of works that spans solo instrument pieces to chamber, choral, and orchestral. His student J. F. Agricola and C. P. E. Bach put together a biography with a summary catalog of his works, published as Nekrolog (1754). Banchieri, Adriano (1568–1634) Italian theorist, organist, composer, and writer about music.

Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel (1714–88) German composer and keyboardist. The second son of J. S. Bach. Wrote Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen (1753/1762).

Bermudo, Juan (ca. 1510–after 1559) Spanish music theorist. Author of sev eral works, notably Declaración de instrumentos musicales (Osuna, 1555). 137

138

Appendix

Boyvin, Jacques (ca. 1653–1706) French organist and composer. In 1674, he held the post of organist at Notre Dame Cathedral, Rouen. His Traité abrégé de l’accompagnement pour l’orgue et pour le clavessin was first published as the preface to his second Livre d’orgue (Par is, 1700) and was later printed separately (Paris, 1705, and Amsterdam, n.d.). Broderip, M. Robert (ca. 1758–1808) English organist and composer. Wrote songs and keyboard pieces, including or gan voluntaries (op. 5, 1785) and a concer to for harpsichord or piano (op. 7, 1785). Buchner, Hans (1483–ca. 1538) (Hans Buchner van Constanze.) Ger man organist and composer. His Abschrifft M. Hansen von Constantz des wyt beriempten Organisten fundament buch sinen kinden verlossen (ca. 1520) is one of the earliest sources of information on keyboard fingering. In 1551 it was prepared by Christoff Piperinus and has survived in three manuscripts in both German and Latin. It is often referred to as the Fundamentum or Fundamentbuch. Bull, John (ca. 1562–1628) English composer, organist, harpsi chordist, and organ builder. Active in both England and The Netherlands, he was an important composer of virtuosic keyboard music for the virginal. Burney, Charles (1726–1814) English musician, composer, and music historian. Byrd, William (ca. 1540–1623) English composer. One of the founding fathers of the English virginal school,

characterized by virtuosic keyboard figuration and the variation style. His works include English and Latin liturgi cal vocal music, consort music, songs, and keyboard pieces. His works for keyboard range from fantasias, pavans, and galliards to variation sets based on popular songs. Several of his pieces were published in My Ladye Nevells Booke, the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, and Parthenia, together with works by John Bull and Orlando Gibbons. Cabezón, Antonio de (ca. 1510–66) Spanish composer and organist. A musi cian at the court of Queen Isabella and chamber musician to Charles V. His compositions include liturgical works, tientos, canciones glosadas, motets, and discantes. Although much of his music reflects distinct traits particular to Spanish styles, his works also show the influence of his journeys with the royal chapel throughout Europe. Cabezón, Hernando de (1541–1602) Spanish organist and composer. Son of Antonio de Cabezón. Added a preamble to his father’s works, the Obras de música para tecla, harpa y vihuela, in which, among other topics, he discusses finger ing and ornamentation. Camidge, Matthew (ca. 1760–1844) English organist, violinist, choir director, composer, and arranger. Wrote Instructions for the Piano-forte or Harpsichord (1795). Chambonnières, Jacques Champion de (1602–72) French composer of solo harpsichord music. An organist and harpsichordist

Appendix in the royal chapel. Often regarded as the father of the French school of harp sichord playing. Chopin, Fryderyk (1810–49) Leading nineteenth-century Polish com poser and pianist, later resident of France. Clementi, Muzio (1752–1832) Italian-born English composer, key boardist, and teacher. His Introduction to the Art of Playing on the Piano Forte (1801) was published several times and translated into several languages. The treatise’s musical compositions (for which he provides suggested fingering patterns) include pieces by various Ba roque composers, such as F. Couperin, G. F. Handel, and Arcangelo Corelli. Correa de Arauxo, Francisco (1584–1654) Spanish organist, theorist, and com poser. His music is found in his treatise Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica, y theorica de organo intitulado facultad organica (1626). Corrette, Michelle (1707–95) French organist, teacher, composer, ar ranger, and writer. Les amusemens du Parnasse (1749, enlarged 2/1779/R) is of interest to keyboardists, especially for his fingered examples. Other pertinent methods are his Premier livre d’orgue, op. 16 (1737) and Le maître de clavecin pour l’accompagnement, méthode théorique et pratique . . . avec des leçons chantantes où les accords sont notés (1753, 2/1790). Couperin, François (1668–1733) French composer and keyboardist. From a family of musicians, he is known

139

as “François le Grand,” considered one of the greatest composers of the French Baroque. Composed numerous chamber and vocal works as well as four volumes of harpsichord suites (ordres) published as his Pièces de clavecin (1713, 1716–17, 1722, and 1730). One of the most detailed and meticulous composers of French ornaments. Author of the bestknown French harpsichord treatise, L’art de toucher le clavecin (1716 and 1717). Nephew of composer and musician Louis Couperin. Couperin, Louis (1626–61) French composer, harpsichordist, organ ist, and viol player. Uncle of François le Grand. One of the leading harpsichord composers of the seventeenth century. His harpsichord pieces are found prin cipally in the Parville and Bauyn manu scripts and consist of pieces in different keys, namely, unmeasured preludes and allemandes, several dance-type pieces typical of a French suite (courantes, sarabandes, gigues, etc.), chaconnes, passacailles, one tombeau, one pavane, one title piece, and doubles to pieces by other composers. Czerny, Carl (1791–1857) Austrian piano teacher, composer, pianist, theorist, and historian. A piano student of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827) and a teacher to Franz Liszt (1811–86) and other important pianists. His technical exercises play an impor tant role in many pianists’ training. Besides the many exercises, studies, and method books that he wrote for piano, he and A. E. Müller (1767–1817) penned the Grosse Fortepiano-Schule (1825). Czerny’s lessons with Beethoven were

140

Appendix

composed of scales and other technical exercises and included a study of C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch. Czerny spent time with Clementi, familiarizing himself with his pedagogical method and incorporating it into his own teaching style. Dagincourt, François (1684–1758) French organist and composer. He pub lished a Premier livre de clavecin (1733). Daquin, Louis-Claude (1694–1772) French organist, harpsichordist, and composer. A leading improviser of the eighteenth century; held major posi tions as an organist. Composed Livre de pièces de clavecin (1735). The godson of the French harpsichordist and com poser Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre (1665–1729). Denis, Jean (ca. 1600–1672) French harpsichord builder in Parisian circle of Chambonnières and other harpsichord players. Wrote the Traité de l’accord de l’éspinette (1643 and 1650). Diruta, Girolamo (ca. 1554–after 1610) Author of first Italian method on organ playing, Il Transilvano dialogo sopra il vero modo di sonar organi, & istromenti da penna (1593–1625), written as a dialogue between Diruta and a Transylvanian who came to Italy to learn the organ. Dowland, John (1563–1626) English composer and lutenist. Now recognized as the greatest English composer of lute and consort music. His piece Pavana Lachrymae is found in numerous manuscript sources and has been used as a tune for multiple varia tion settings for keyboard.

Duphly, Jacques (1718–88) French harpsichordist, organist, com poser, and teacher. The harpsichord builder Pascal Taskin (1723–93) felt he was one of the best teachers in Paris. Duphly composed four books of Pièces de clavecin (1744, 1748, 1764, and 1768). He also composed A Collection of Lessons for the Harpsichord (1756) and a con tinuo treatise (1765) for Richard Fitzwil liam (Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge). Dussek, Frantiek Xaver (1731–99) Czech composer, pianist, and music teacher. Engel, Carl (1818–82) German organologist and musicolo gist. Included in his publications are the Pianoforte School for Young Beginners (1853) and The Pianist’s Handbook: A Guide for the Right Comprehension and Performance of Our Best Pianoforte Music (1853). Engramelle, Marie-Dominique-Joseph (1727–1805) French builder of mechanical instru ments. He wanted to invent a machine that would preserve performances and replay them on the keyboard. He devel oped a form of shorthand for indicating ornamentation and created a way of converting played music onto a machine by way of securing pins and staples on a barrel (barrel pinning). His experiments are discussed in his publication La tonotechnie: ou l’art de noter des cylindres . . . dans les instruments de concerts méchaniques (1775). Despite the imperfection of his inventions, his experiments were forward-looking and provide us with insightful information about French

Appendix and late Baroque performing practices. Engramelle’s work was subsequently revised and expanded by François Bédos de Celles, known also as Dom Bédos (1709–79), the French organ builder and writer on organs. Fétis, François-Joseph (1784–1871) Musicologist, keyboardist, composer, teacher, and critic. An influential figure in nineteenth-century Europe within the Franco-Belgian musical establish ment. He studied harmony with J. B. Rey, a student of Rameau. He published several writings, including the Méthode élémentaire et abrégée d’harmonie et d’accompagnement (1823), the Biographie universelle des musiciens (1835–44), the Traité de l’harmonie (1844), and the Traité de l’accompagnement de la partition sur le piano ou l’orgue (1829). Fischer, Johann Caspar Ferdinand (1656–1746) German composer. His collections of keyboard suites were published as Les pièces de clavessin (1696), Musicalisches Blumen-Büschlein (1698), and Musikalischer Parnassus (n.d.). His suites combine the French and German compositional styles. Ariadne musica neo-organoedum (1702) consists of twenty short preludes and fugues, beginning in C major and moving through eighteen keys with acci dentals, ending in C minor (with a Cmajor Picardy third for the final chord). J. S. Bach was familiar with this work, which served as inspiration for his Das wohltemperierte Clavier. Forkel, Johann Nicolaus (1749–1818) German music historian, musicologist, theorist, and bibliographer. Began a de

141

tailed biography of J. S. Bach in the early 1770s, gathering much of his information from Bach’s sons Wilhelm Friedemann (1710–84) and C. P. E. In 1801, Forkel took the position of adviser for the Oeuvres complettes de Jean Sebastien Bach (Hoff meister und Kühnel’s series of Bach’s keyboard music), which led to the firm’s publication of Bach’s biography Über Johann Sebastian Bachs Leben, Kunst, und Kunstwerke (1802). The biography focuses mostly on Bach’s keyboard repertoire and his mastery as a virtuoso keyboardist, composer, and pedagogue. Forkel had collected the material for this book to be part of the third and final volume of the Allgemeine Geschichte, the first German attempt at a comprehensive history of music, but this third volume was never completed. Well read on aesthetics, phi losophy, and sociology, Forkel saw music as a profound expression of human emo tion, comparable to spoken language— full of rhetoric and articulation. Forqueray, Antoine (ca. 1671–1745) French composer, viol player, and teach er. Father of the musician and composer Jean-Baptiste (-Antoine) Forqueray. Held the post of Musicien Ordinaire de la Chambre to Louis XIV in 1689. Known for his deep sounding “devil ish” exploitation of the viol, in contrast to Marais’s lighter, more melodic, and graceful style. Forqueray, Jean-Baptiste (-Antoine) (1699–1782) French composer, viol player, and teach er. Son of Antoine Forqueray. As a child prodigy, he played before Louis XIV. Like his father, he left a small body of compositions for the viol. In addition to

142

Appendix

his own pieces, he transcribed several of his father’s works for the harpsichord. Frescobaldi, Girolamo (1583–1643) Italian composer, harpsichordist, and or ganist. Although he did not compose an enormous body of music literature, his musical vocabulary and tonal language were on a par with fellow Italian com posers Carlo Gesualdo (ca. 1561–1613) and Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643), innovative and cutting-edge. In addition to toccatas he wrote lengthy variation sets (partitas), canzonas, and ricercares. Among other positions, he was organist of St. Peter’s in Rome. Froberger, Johann Jakob (1616–67) South German Baroque composer and keyboard virtuoso. A student of Frescobaldi. His music for organ and harpsichord includes toccatas, ricercares, fantasias, and canzonas. Influential in developing the keyboard suite. His pieces reflect compositional styles found in the German, French, and Italian traditions. Gasparini, Francesco (1661–1727) Italian composer, organist, and teacher. It is possible he studied with Corelli and the virtuoso keyboardist Bernardo Pasquini (1637–1710) in Rome. His trea tise L’armonico pratico al cimbalo (1708) was published many times, even as late as 1802. Gibbons, Orlando (1583–1625) English composer and keyboard player. Although he was not as prolific in his output of keyboard compositions as he was in his vocal writing and consort mu sic, his keyboard pieces deserve attention for their skill and beauty.

Griepenkerl, Friedrich (1782–1849) German music scholar. Studied music theory, organ, and piano with Forkel and promoted the works of J. S. Bach. Together with the harpsichordist and music editor F. A. Roitzsch, Griepenkerl published Bach’s keyboard works (1847) and a critically corrected edition of Bach’s organ works (1844). Handel, George Frideric (1685–1759) German-born English composer. His musical output spans nearly every musi cal genre of his time, both vocal and instrumental. His collection of harpsi chord music, Suites de pièces pour le clavecin (1720), while small in size compared with the keyboard output of his contem porary J. S. Bach, is full of beautiful and virtuosic pieces that are reflective of vari ous national styles. Hanon, Charles-Louis (1819–1900) French composer, organist, and writer. Wrote methods for the piano, organ, and keyboard accompaniment. Remem bered for his Le piano virtuoso (1873) and L’étude complète du piano. Hartong [Hartung], Philipp Christoph (1706–76) Obscure German teacher who wrote Dess musici theoretico-pratico . . . enthaltend eine methodische Clavier-Anweisung (1749), written under the pseudonym P. C. Humanus. It was the second part of a large work—the first part of which is devoted to music theory. Hensel, Johann Daniel (1757–1839) German writer, teacher, and composer. He wrote the Ausübende Klavierschule (1796).

Appendix Hipkins, Alfred (James) (1826–1903) English writer on musical instruments. A pioneer in the revival of early keyboard instruments, performing Bach on the clavichord and harpsichord. Wrote many articles for Grove 1 as well as articles on pitch and the piano for Encyclopaedia Britannica (9th ed.) He also published A Description and History of the Pianoforte (1896) and Musical Instruments: Historic, Rare, and Unique (1896). Hodermann, Georg Caspar (1740–1842) German composer who composed sev eral pieces for harpsichord, organ, or piano. He wrote Kurzer Unterricht für Musik-Anfänger (1787). Hüllmandel, Nicolas-Joseph (1756–1823) Alsatian composer and performer on harpsichord, piano, and glass harmonica. Lived and worked in London and Paris. According to Fétis, he was one of C. P. E. Bach’s students and Mozart’s patron. His only compositions were for harpsi chord or piano, sometimes with violin accompaniment. Wrote Principles of Music Calculated for the Pianoforte or Harpsichord, and supplied the article “Clavecin” for the Encyclopédie méthodique (Paris, 1791–1818). Kapsperger, Giovanni Girolamo (ca. 1580–1651) German-born Italian composer, lutenist, theorbist, and guitarist. Played a chief role in the development of the theorbo as a solo instrument. Kirnberger, Johann Philipp (1721–83) German composer and theorist. A lead ing contributor to the Berlin circle of the orists, which included Quantz, C. P. E.

143

Bach, and Marpurg. Studied violin, organ, and harpsichord. According to Marpurg, he studied composition and performance with Bach for two years in Leipzig. He wrote Die wahren Grundsätze (1773) with the assistance of J. A. P. Schulz. Kirnberger held J. S. Bach in the highest regard, admiring his ingenuity as composer, performer, and teacher. Kirnberger attempted to disseminate Bach’s method through his own teaching and writing. His Clavierübungen (1762) contains keyboard works arranged in progressive levels of difficulty. Knecht, Justin Heinrich (1752–1817) German composer, music theorist, and writer. Early training in organ, keyboard, violin, and voice. Taught in strumental lessons as well as courses in music theory, acoustics, aesthetics, and composition. Recognized for his teach ing manuals, particularly his Orgelschule (1795). Contributed to the Musikalische Real-Zeitung, the Musikalische Korrespondenz der Teutschen Filarmonischen Gesellschaft (1788–92), and Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung. Koch, Heinrich Christoph (1749–1816) German theorist, composer, and violin ist. Best known writings are his Versuch einer Anleitung zur Composition (1782, 1787, 1793) and Musikalisches Lexikon (1802). Landowska, Wanda (1879–1959) Polish harpsichordist, pianist, and com poser. A leading figure in the twentiethcentury revival of the harpsichord. Owned several Pleyel harpsichords, which had pedals and the ability to pro duce actual swells in dynamics.

144

Appendix

Lebègue, Nicolas (1631–1702) French composer, organist, and harpsi chordist. In 1678 appointed Organiste du Roi. Composed two books for harpsi chord and several manuscript pieces. Le Gallois, Jean (1632–1707) French academician, royal librarian, abbot. Editor and founder of the Journal des Savants. Wrote Lettre . . . à Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier: touchant la musique (1680), in which he discusses various styles of harpsichord playing, particularly that of Chambonnières and Louis Couperin. Löhlein, Georg Simon (1725–81) German theorist, teacher, and composer. Served as Kapellmeister to the Marien kirche in Danzig. His Clavierschule revised the material of C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch. Its second volume is a disserta tion on playing figured bass. Manfredini, Vincenzo (1737–99) Italian singer, conductor, and harp sichord teacher. His treatise Regole armoniche, o sieno Precetti ragionati (1775, enlarged 2/1797) focuses primarily on figured bass but contains discussion of Italian keyboard technique. It also con tains harpsichord preludes, a description of hand position, and discussions on finger substitution and legato. He wrote six harpsichord sonatas. Marpurg, Friedrich Wilhelm (1718–95) German theorist, composer, critic, and journalist. Edited and contributed to the periodicals Der critische Musicus an der Spree (1749–50), Historisch-kritische Beyträge zur Aufnahme der Musik (1754– 62, 1778), and Kritische Briefe über die

Tonkunst (1760–64). His Die Kunst das Clavier zu spielen, durch den Verfasser des critischen Musicus an der Spree (1750/1755; Fr. trans., Berlin, 1756 as Principes du clavecin) discusses keyboard perfor mance, figured bass, and composition. Mattheson, Johann (1681–1764) German composer, theorist, critic, jour nalist, and lexicographer. His writings cover nearly every aspect of eighteenthcentury music. His Grosse General-BassSchule (1731), an expanded version of the earlier Exemplarische Organisten-Probe (1719), and the Kleine General-Bass-Schule (1735) are valuable to keyboardists learn ing to play from figured bass. Merbach, Georg Friedrich (fl. mid- to late-1700s) German harpsichordist and pianist. Wrote Clavierschule für Kinder (1782). Mersenne, Marin (1588–1648) French music theorist, philosopher, mathematician, and writer on science. Author of Harmonie universelle (1637). Merulo, Claudio (1533–1604) Italian composer and publisher. Ex panded simple keyboard genres based on vocal models into larger-scaled virtuoso pieces idiomatic to the keyboard. His madrigals, masses, and motets reflect the mature Venetian style of the late sixteenth century. Milchmeyer, Johann Peter (1750–1813) German piano builder and teacher. Along with Dussek, Clementi, and A. E. Müller, advocated for modern piano fingerings, which are discussed in his book Die wahre Art das Pianoforte zu spielen (1797).

Appendix Miller, Edward (1735–1807) English organist, composer, and histo rian. Published Institutes of Music, or Easy Instructions for the Harpsichord, op. 4 (1780) and Elements of Thorough Bass and Composition (1787). Müller, August Eberhard (1767–1817) German conductor, flutist, keyboardist, and composer. Author of Klavier- und Fortepiano-Schule (1804 [as 6th ed. of G. S. Löhlein, Clavierschule, 1765]; 8/1825, ed. C. Czerny). Nassarre, Fr. Pablo (ca. 1654–ca. 1730) Spanish theorist, composer, and organ ist. His Esquela música, según la prática moderna (1723) took him over fifty years to write. More than one thousand pages long, the treatise covers an enormous range of musical topics, including several pages devoted to organ technique. Nivers, Guillaume-Gabriel (ca. 1632–1714) French organist and composer. Became organist of the Chapelle Royale in 1678. The first of his three livres d’orgue con tains a preface on music and technique. Parsons, John (fl. mid-eighteenth century) English keyboardist. Author of The Elements of Music with Progressive Practical Lessons for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte (ca. 1794). Pasquali, Nicolò (1718–57) Italian-born English composer, violin ist, and theoretician. Of importance to harpsichordists are his instruction book Thorough-bass Made Easy (1757) and The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, Illus-

145

trated with Examples in Notes, to Which Is Added an Approved Method of Tuning That Instrument (1760). Penna, Lorenzo (1613–93) Italian composer and theorist. Served as maestro di cappella at various churches. Of importance to harpsichordists is the information on continuo playing in his theoretical work Li primi albori musicali (1684). Perrine, Sr. (d. after 1698) French theorist and lute teacher. His publications include Livre de musique pour le lut, contenant une metode nouvelle et facile pour aprendre à toucher le lut sur les notes de la musique (Paris, 1679/R), Table pour aprendre à toucher le lut sur la basse continüe pour accompagner la voix (Paris, 1682, 2/1698), and Pièces de luth en musique avec des regles pour les toucher parfaitement sur le luth et sur le clavessin (Paris, 1680). Petri, Johann Samuel (1738–1808) Cantor, pianist, organist, teacher, and writer on music; also played the violin, flute, cello, and harp. His most impor tant work was his pedagogical treatise Anleitung zur practischen Musik, vor neuangehende Sänger und Instrumentspieler (1767, enlarged 2/1782/R), covering topics such as thoroughbass, playing keyboard instruments, strings, flute, and building and playing organs. His Anleitung is significant historically for its inclusion of instructions on how to sing and play various instruments. Piccinini, Alessandro (1566–ca. 1638) Italian lutenist, composer, and writer on music. Piccinini published two volumes: Intavolatura di liuto . . . libro primo (1623)

146

Appendix

and Intavolatura di liuto (1639). Claimed to have invented the archlute. His pref ace includes a concise but informative manual on performance practice. Pleyel, Ignaz Josef (1757–1831) Austrian composer, conductor, music publisher, and piano maker. Studied with Haydn. Active in France, Germany, England, and Italy. Praetorius, Michael (1571–1621) German composer, organist, and writer. Extremely prolific; his works were sig nificant in the development of musical forms based on Protestant hymns and to the polychoral chorale concerto, a likely result of his familiarity with Venetian music and musicians, such as Giovanni Gabrieli (ca. 1554–1612). Over a thou sand chorale and song arrangements are included in his nine-volume Musae sioniae (1605–10). Also wrote Terpsichore (1612), a compendium of over three hun dred instrumental dances, as well as a three-volume treatise Syntagma musicum (1614–20), a highly informative text on instruments, musical practices, music history, and other topics important to performance practice in the seventeenth century. Quantz, Johann Joachim (1697–1773) German traverso player, flute maker, and composer. Worked at the courts of Dresden and Berlin. Wrote Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (1752). Rameau, Jean-Philippe (1683–1764) French theorist, harpsichordist, com poser of solo, chamber, and opera music, and author of several theoretical works,

including Traité de l’harmonie (1722), Dissertation (1732), and the preface to his second book of Pièces de clavecin (1724). Rellstab, Johann Carl Friedrich (1759–1813) German music publisher, keyboardist, theorist, and composer. Taught voice, declamation, and continuo. Ricci, Francesco Pasquale (1732–1817) Italian composer. Visited Paris, London, and The Hague. His name appears with that of J. C. Bach on the title page of Méthode ou recueil de connaissances élémentares pour le piano forte ou clavecin (ca. 1788). It is unclear whether he helped to write the work or if he arranged and edit ed it. The ascription to Bach may be false. Ross, John (1763–1837) Scottish composer and organist. Ar ranged A Select Collection of Ancient & Modern Scottish Airs for the voice and piano, and published A Complete Book of Instructions for Beginners on the Harpsichord or Pianoforte (1795). Rousseau, Jean (1644–99) French viol player, theorist, and compos er. Dedicated his Traité de la viole (1687) to the French viol player and composer Jean de Sainte-Colombe (d. 1701), with whom he studied. The treatise includes discussion of bowing techniques as well as ornamentation, based on the lute tra dition and styles found in vocal music. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques (1712–78) Swiss philosopher, theorist, and com poser. Among his many publications are his Dissertation sur la musique moderne (1743) and Dictionnaire de musique (1768).

Appendix

147

Saint-Lambert, Michel de (fl. ca. 1700) French harpsichordist, teacher, and composer. Important to harpsichordists for his treatises Principes du clavecin contenant une explication exacte de tout ce qui concerne la tablature & le clavier (1702) and Nouveau traité de l’accompagnement du clavecin, de l’orgue et des autres instruments (1707).

cluding Der critische Musikus, vol. 1 (1738) and vol. 2 (1740) (completed 1745).

Samber, Johann Baptist (1654–1717) Austrian theorist, organist, and teacher. Studied with the composer Georg Muffat (1653–1704). His Manuductio ad organum (1704) and Continuatio ad manuductionem organicam (1707) contain information about music, including solmization, key board instruction, and figured bass.

Speer, Daniel (1636–1707) German composer and music theorist. Author of Grundrichtiger Unterricht der musicalischen Kunst (1697).

Sancta Maria, Tomás de (ca. 1510–70) Spanish theorist and composer. Re membered for his treatise Arte de tañer fantasía (1565) on keyboard technique, composition, and improvisation. Scarlatti, Alessandro (1660–1725) Italian composer of solo, chamber, and opera works. Some of his keyboard toc catas contain his fingerings, which pro vide valuable insights into early Italian fingering practice. Scarlatti, Domenico (1685–1757) Harpsichordist and composer of opera and harpsichord music. Son of Ales sandro Scarlatti. Composed close to five hundred solo keyboard sonatas that reflect the rich harmonies and rhythms of the Iberian peninsula. Scheibe, Johann Adolph (1708–76) German composer, theorist, and organ ist. Wrote several theoretical works, in

Schlick, Arnolt (ca. 1460–ca. 1521) German organist and composer. His Spiegel der Orgelmacher und Organisten (1511) was the first work about organ building and playing to be published in German.

Sulzer, Johann Georg (1720–79) Swiss aesthetician, philosopher, lexicog rapher, and mathematics professor. His Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste (1774) is an encyclopedia about the arts. He relied on J. P. Kirnberger and the German composer and conductor J. A. P. Schulz (1747–1800) for the articles on music. Thielo, Carl August (1707–63) Danish composer, theorist, organist, music teacher, theater director, and writer. Published the treatise Tanker og Regler fra Grunden af om Musiken (1746). Türk, Daniel Gottlob (1750–1813) German theorist and composer. Wrote Klavierschule (1789). Composed several sonatas and individual keyboard pieces (called Handstücke or Tonstücke). Venegas de Henestrosa, Luis (1510–70) Spanish composer and compiler of mu sic. His book Libro de cifra nueva (1557) features a tablature notation later used by Antonio de Cabezón in his Obras de música (1578). Venegas’s book was intended for

148

Appendix

keyboard, harp, vihuela, and possibly for instrumental ensemble. It opens with a preface on music theory and performance practice and contains over one hundred pieces by unnamed composers. Wolf, Ernst Wilhelm (1735–92) German composer of vocal and instru mental works. Served as Kapellmeister for Duchess Anna Amalia of Weimar. His Anleitung zum guten Vortrag beym Clavierspielen was published in 1755. Wolf, Georg Friedrich (1761–1814) German composer, writer on music, organist, music teacher, and Kapellmeis ter. His music dictionary Kurzgefasstes musikalisches Lexicon (1787, 3/1806; rev.

as Allgemeines musikalisches Lexikon, 1800) was reprinted many times. Also wrote pedagogical works for singers and keyboard players. His Kurzer aber deutlicher Unterricht im Klavierspielen (1783) is a manual for keyboard teachers with an emphasis on theory. It includes a section on correct body positions for playing the keyboard. Zarlino, Gioseffo (1517–90) Italian composer and theorist. His trea tise Le istitutioni harmoniche (1558) is a significant contribution to music theory. His contrapuntal techniques were influenced greatly by the works of the Flemish composer and teacher Adrian Willaert (ca. 1490–1562).

Notes

after his death in 1750. He had firsthand experience of C. P. E. Bach. Forkel obtained much of his information on Johann Sebastian from Ernst Ludwig Gerber, whose father was one of Bach’s students. He may also have received in formation about J. S. Bach from Johann Joachim Quantz. 6. “La douceur du toucher dépend encore de tenir ses doigts le plus près des touches qu’il est possible.” (The sweet ness [or gentle manner, etc.] of playing depends again on holding the fingers as close to the keys as possible.) François Couperin, L’art de toucher le clavecin (Paris, 1716 and 1717; facsimile, New York: Broude, 1969), 7. 7. “Douceur: s. f. Qualité de ce qui est doux. Il s’employe au propre & au figuré dans la pluspart des sens de doux. . . . La douceur du sucre.” “Doux, douce: Il se dit aussi de tout ce qui fait une impression agreable sur les autres sens, & qui n’a rien d’aigre, de piquant, ni de rude. . . doux parfum, voix douce, douce harmonie, flûte douce, doux murmure, le doux murmure des eaux, un parler doux . . . cela est doux au toucher.” Dictionnaire de L’Académie française, 1st ed. (1694), ARTFL Project: University of

Introduction 1. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 354. 2. Cited in Hogwood, The Keyboard in Baroque Europe, 112. 3. “On sçait qu’outre la science & la netteté, il avoit une delicatesse de main que les autres n’avoient pas . . . qu’il avoit une adresse & une maniere d’appliquer les doigts sur les touches qui estoit inconnuë aux autres.” Lettre . . . à Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier touchant la musique, 69. The author is assumed to be Jean Le Gallois (1632–1707). The identity of Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier re mains unclear. Writing almost ten years after Chambonnières’ death, Le Gallois attempts to clarify the differences in harpsichord playing between Chambon nières and Louis Couperin, bringing to light their unique traits as players. 4. “Et c’est dequoy nous avons un bel exemple dans les personnes de Chambon nières & de Couperin . . . il est certain neanmoins qu’ils avoient deux jeux dont les differens caracteres ont donné lieu de dire que l’un touchoit le coeur, & l’autre touchoit l’oreille.” Ibid., 85. 5. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 52. Forkel was Bach’s biographer fifty years 149

150

Notes to pages 3–6

Chicago, 2001; http://bert.lib.indiana .edu:2532/efts/ARTFL/projects/dicos/ ACADEMIE/. 8. Rameau, Traité de l’harmonie (Paris, 1722); trans. by Gossett as Treatise on Harmony, section “On How to Use the Hand and Fingers in Accompaniment.” 9. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, introduction, 9. On pp. 10–13 he gives a list of keyboard instruments and their definitions. Although many parts of Türk’s Klavierschule offer valuable lessons for various keyboard instruments, his list defines klavier only as the clavichord. 1. Preparing to Play 1. “L’âge propre à commencer les enfans, est de six, à sept-ans: non pas que cela doive exclure Les personnes plus avancées: mais, naturellement, pour mouler; et former des mains à l’éxercise du clavecin, le plutot, est le mieux.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 3. 2. “Plus on commencera de bonne heure à joüer du clavecin, plus on sera sûr d’y faire des progrès, quoique l’expérience enseigne quelquefois le contraire, & que beaucoup de personnes qui ont commencé tard soient devenuës habiles, tandis que d’autres qui s’y sont pris dès leur plus tendre enfance, sont restées en arrière. Cependant avant l’âge de six à sept ans, on n’est guère en droit de se promettre des succès de son éléve.” Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, 2. 3. “A l’égard de la disposition de la Main, il n’y a personne qui n’en puisse avoir, s’il commence de bonne heure à s’exercer. Cette disposition n’étant autre chose qu’une grande souplesse dans les nerfs qui laisse aux doigts la liberté de se remuer subtilement: l’enfance est le

temps le plus propre à l’acquerir. C’est une expérience faite, que ceux qui ont commencé de jeunesse sont devenus habiles; & que ceux qui ne s’y sont pris que tard n’ont pas réussi. On ne peut assigner précisément l’âge où il n’est plus temps de commencer, parce que les dispositions sont différentes selon les personnes . . . mais la saison la plus favorable pour les une & pour les autres est la grande enfance: c’est à dire, avant dix ans, & même dés cinq ou six.” SaintLambert, Les principes du clavecin, iv. 4. “Tambien por algunos accidentes sucede, que aunque la edad no sea mucha, no están los nervios muy flexibles: como es, el ocuparse en obras serviles de manos dichos sugetos, las quales los hazen duros, é inflexibles: y por esso importa mucho que los que se han de ocupar en este exercicio, no se ocupen en otros que les puedan encallecer las manos, y entorpezer los dedos: porque todo lo que es manejar cosas duras, ú de peso, tocar agues impuras, sobrademente frias, ó excessivamente calientes, atraen humores á dichos miembros, los quales impiden en los nervios la docilidad.” Nassarre, Esquela música: según la prática moderna, pt. 2, 472. Many eighteenth-century physicians believed the body had four major humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Doctors thought that sickness occurred when the humors were unbalanced. For instance, a patient might have had too much blood. To restore the body’s balance, excess humors were removed through bleeding, vomiting, blistering, urinating, sweating, or salivating. If a patient were insufficient in a humor, doctors would

Notes to pages 6–8 remedy the situation with certain food, herbs, or medications. 5. Rameau, Dissertation sur les différentes méthodes d’accompagnement pour le clavecin ou pour l’orgue; trans. in Jacobi, Complete Theoretical Writings of Jean-Philippe Rameau, 58–60. Trans. revised. 6. Additional sets of strings and options of registration allow for different colors and timbres to be combined. These include using the front eight or the back eight, coupling two eight-foot registers, playing pieces written in croisé style (hand-crossing or playing on two manuals with one hand on each manual), as found in some of the harpsichord pieces by Rameau or Couperin, as well as some of J. S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations and Italian Concerto. Single manual harpsichords that were not virginals or spinets usually had 8' + 8' (two eight-foot sets of strings), 8' + 4', or 8' + 8' + 4'. 7. On a harpsichord, each string has its own plectrum. These plectra are approximately one centimeter long, one and a half millimeters wide, and half a millimeter thick. They are cut to be wider at the base and narrow at the tip, which is the plucking end. The plectrum is held inside the tongue of the jack, which allows it to pluck moving upward and pass almost silently along the string downward to its return position. In the past, plectra were made of feather quills—hence the common usage of the term quilling. The quills were usually from crows, ravens, and sometimes vultures. Italian instrument maker Bartolomeo Cristofori (1655–1731) was one such builder to use vulture quills. Some harpsichords employed plectra of leather, often on just one set of

151

strings as a special effect. Later French harpsichords, such as those constructed by Pascal Taskin (1723–93), often had peau de buffle, a chamois-like material from bison hide. Modern harpsichords tend to use plastic, such as delrin or celcon, for plectra material. 8. “On ne doit se servir d’abord que d’une épinette, ou d’un seul clavier de clavecin pour la première jeunesse; et que l’une, ou l’autre soient emplumés très foiblement; cet article étant d’une conséquence infinie, la belle execution dépendant beaucoup plus de la souplesse, et de la grande liberté des doigts, que de la force; en sorte que dès les commencemens sy on laisse jouer un enfant sur deux claviers, il faut de toutte nécessité qu’il outre ses petites mains pour faire parler les touches; et de là viennent les mains mal-placées, et la dureté du jeu.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 6–7. 9. Hays, “F. W. Marpurg’s Anleitung zum Clavierspielen (Berlin, 1755) and Principes du clavecin (Berlin, 1756),” 1:2. 10. Bach, Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard Instruments, 37. 11. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, “Proposals,” v–vi. Pasquali recommends the smallest size for children up through the age of seven or eight, and the second size until the age of twelve or thirteen, at which point they may proceed to a normal size harp sichord. 12. Pasquali’s next paragraph justi fies any opposition to his beliefs on this matter: “If it is objected that the transi tion from narrow to wider keys might give a child the bad custom of touching sometimes two keys with one finger, or of mistaking the keys, I answer that a

152


few weeks diligent practice will prevent those evils. Witness the manner that we use in teaching children to play on the violin, (which is a more difficult instru ment than the harpsichord) . . . for, first, they are taught to play on a very little instrument; then, as they grow, a larger one is made use of until the length of their fingers enables them to manage a violin of a common size.” 13. An ottavino harpsichord was a very small, Italian-made virginal or spinet at four-foot pitch (an octave higher than on a standard keyboard instrument). It is sometimes called an “octave spinet” or “spinettina.” This is not to be confused with the child ottavino of a muselar (a type of Flemish virginal) that may be coupled with the mother virginal, or a quint-pitch instrument (mezzo-ottavino). Their various uses include child harpsi chords, domestic instruments for singing accompaniment, and toys, much like the toy piano. See Vince Ho’s website at http://www.rawbw.com/~hbv/earlymus/ ottavino/. 14. “Il faut donc bien prendre garde que la resistance des touches ne s’oppose au mouvement des doigts; & par conse quent le clavier sur lequel on s’éxerce ne sçauroit être trop doux: mais à mesure que les doigts se fortifient dans leur mouvement, on peut leur opposer un clavier moins doux, & arriver ainsi par degrez à leur faire enfoncer les touches les plus dures.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 18. 15. “Il faut tâcher d’acquerir le mou vement necessaire dans les doigts, & de donner à chacun d’eux son mouvement particulier, avant que de mettre leur force à l’épreuve . . . comme on a d’abord de la peine à les faire mouvoir chacun

en particulier, celle qu’on auroit encore à leur faire enfoncer les touches, seroit capable de détruire la perfection qui doit se trouver dans leur mouvement.” Ibid., 18. 16. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 19. 17. The late 1960s and early 1970s saw a revival of harpsichord construction, and there are now many builders both in the United States and around the world. Current trends favor the replication of specific instruments, and many builders continue to specialize in certain styles year after year. A good builder seeks out the finest wood, uses wooden (as op posed to plastic) jacks, and is expert in voicing and repair. A beautifully painted instrument is a sight to behold but not necessary for beautiful playing. Teachers and players may also be able to offer ad vice, and useful information is available in libraries, the internet, and in various shops that rent or sell early keyboards. As always, instrument makers are happy to receive inquiries about their instru ments! 18. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 31. 19. “La distance à laquelle une per sonne formée doit être du clavier est à peu prés de neuf-pouces, à prendre de la ceinture; et moindre à proportion pour les jeunes personnes.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 4. 20. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:13 and n. 24. 21. A famous piano manufacturing company, founded in the early nine teenth century by Ignaz Bösendorfer in Vienna. They make many different mod els, including a concert grand that has an extra octave in the bass. 22. Fétis and Moscheles, Méthode des Méthodes de Piano, 13.

Notes to pages 11–13 23. Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 4v; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 35. 24. “Explicando lo que toca a la prim era regla que he dicho, ha de ser la planta del cuerpo, recto, en medio del teclado.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 456. 25. Hartong, Clavier-Anweisung, 6; quoted and trans. in Lister, “Traditions of Keyboard Technique,” 218. 26. “Le milieu du corps, et celui du clavier doivent se raporter.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 4. 27. “Il faut . . . se placer vis-à-vis le milieu du clavier.” Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse, p. B; Méthodes & Traités, 2:10. 28. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:13. 29. Bach, Essay, 42. 30. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 31. 31. Although I do not include them in this document, in my research I looked through approximately fifty iconographical images of keyboardists sitting by or playing their instruments. They sit on a wide variety of furniture, including stools, armchairs, benches, a base of a marble column, to no seat at all. The works of art portray the musicians sitting at different heights, from below to parallel or above the keyboard. 32. “Il faut s’assoir sur un siège com mode comme chaise ou tabouret car un fauteuil g êne les bras.” Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse, p. B. 33. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:13. 34. “On doit mettre quèlque chose de plus, ou de moins hault sous les pieds des jeunes personnes, à mesure qu’elles croissent: afin que leurs pieds n’étant point en l’air, puissent soûtenir le corps dans un juste équilibre.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 3.

153

35. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:13. 36. “Et comme la bonne-grace est ne cessaire il faut commencer par la position du corps.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 3. 37. Diruta, Il Transilvano, pt. 1, f. 4v; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 35. 38. Samber, Manuductio ad organum; trans. in Lister, “Traditions,” 93. 39. Barthélemon, A New Tutor for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte, 6. 40. “Explicando lo que toca a la primera regla que he dicho, ha de ser la planta de el cuerpo, recto, en medio de el teclado, de modo, que lo pueda pulsar todo con las dos manos, sin mas exten sion de el un brazo que el otro: importa ser assi la planta para que sea menor el movimiento de cada brazo al baxar, ò subir à los extremos de el teclado.” Na ssarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 456. 41. Alexander Technique takes its name from Frederick Matthias Alexan der (1869–1955), a Shakespearean orator who began to lose his voice onstage. He discovered that this problem was due to an unnecessary tightening of his whole body when preparing to recite or speak. By 1900, he had cured himself of this problem by applying his own ideas to himself, and later taught them to others. The technique teaches how intention and habits affect physical coordination and learning capacity. As students de velop a sense of kinesthesia, they learn to internally attune bodily location and to judge the effort needed for moving. Many postural problems may be traced to over-tensed neck muscles that impede free movement of the head in relationship to the spine. Without this freedom, it is difficult, if not impossible, to acquire last ing ease elsewhere in the body. According

154


to Alexander Technique, this freedom of movement requires that the head balance lightly on the top of the spine, which, in turn, allows all the other body reflexes to function naturally—the spine lengthens, the neck becomes freer, and the joints and muscles function with a minimum of excess tension. I studied Alexander Technique when I was a piano student in Jerusalem in 1991. After just a few months of practicing Alexander methods, my measured height had increased by a quar ter of an inch, due to the way in which I had been training to hold my back, neck, and head. There are numerous Alexander teachers as well as publications available. For a quick reference, see http://www .alexandertechnique.com/. 42. “A mas de ser la planta del cuerpo en medio de el teclado, has de estar con rectitud perpendicular, sin inclinarlo adelante, atràs, ni a los lados, teniendo la cabeza de el mismo modo; porque es la postura mas natural de el hombre, si guiendo a la misma de el cuerpo, la de los demás miembros; pues estando assi, ha de venir naturalmente la de las manos en el teclado, y assi mesmo serán naturales los movimientos de los dedos.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 457. 43. “Le mouvement des doigts se prend à leur racine, c’est-à-dire, à la join ture qui les attache à la main, & jamais ailleurs; celui de la main se prend à la jointure du poignet, & celui de bras, suppose qu’il soit necessaire, se prend à la jointure du coude.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 44. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 52. 45. Manfredini, Regole armoniche, 23; trans. in Soderlund, Organ Technique, 92. 46. “Tambien se deve escusar todo movimiento en los demás miembros que

no sean precisos. Unos ay que mueven el cuerpo al compás de las manos; otros la cabeza; otros que encogen los ombros, y otros hazen movimientos con la boca. Todo esto repugna à la postura natural del hombre, que governado por la razán, deven conformarse en las acciones todos los miembros con ella; porque de hazer lo contrario, causa nota a los que lo ven, y aún al mismo sugeto diversion.” Na ssarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 457. 47. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:6. 48. “A l’egard des grimaces du vis age on peut s’en coriger soy-même en mettant un miroir sur le pupitre de l’epinette, ou du clavecin.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 4. 49. Voice lessons are often occupied with the body, whereas unfortunately instrumentalists are often disassociated from their bodies. In my many years of accompanying singers, I have observed their practice of recording their lessons and practice sessions, both through au dio and video tape. What an enormous asset this could be for keyboardists, not only to overcome facial grimaces! By recording ourselves in lessons, practice sessions, and in concerts, we gain a more objective perspective on our playing. 50. Bach, Essay, 42–43. 51. Sturm und Drang (literally: “storm and stress”) was a Germany liter ary movement that developed during the second half of the eighteenth century. It takes its name from a play by F. M. von Klinger. Bach’s concern was to write music that would “touch the heart” and “stir the passions.” He was a master of juxtaposing starkly contrasting ideas. 52. Bach, Essay, 152. 53. Burney, The Present State of Music, 2:260.

Notes to pages 16–19 54. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 355–56. 55. Wilson, “Löhlein’s Klavierschule,” 124–25. 56. Mattheson, Der vollkommene Kapellmeister, 35; trans. in Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 519n52. 57. Dussek and Pleyel, Méthode pour le piano-forte, 14. 58. “On doit tourner, un tant soit peu le corps sur la droite étant au clavecin: ne point avoir les genoux trop serrés; et te nir ses pieds vis-à-vis l’un de l’autre; mais surtout le pied droit bien en dehors.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 4. 59. Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, chap. 1, §9; trans. in Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:77. 60. “Il faut s’asseoir sur un siege com mode comme chaise ou tabouret car un fauteuil gêne les bras, se placer vis-a-vis le milieu de clavier, tenir le corps et la tête droits, les pieds en dehors, l’epaule droite un peu plus tournée du côté de la compagnie.” Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse, p. B. 61. As opposed to necessary tension, which would be the minimal amount of muscular strength needed to hold up the limbs to play the keyboard. 62. Laurette Goldberg (1932–2005), early music pioneer, founder of musical enterprises including Music Sources, a Center for Historically Informed Per formances, Inc., and Philharmonia Ba roque, harpsichordist, and teacher. She made this comment during one of my first harpsichord lessons in a discussion about the differences between playing modern piano and harpsichord. 63. “Pour toucher agréablement, il le faut faire facilement; pour toucher fac ilement, il le faut faire commodément;

155

et pour cet effet disposer les doigts sur le clavier de bonne grace, avec convenance et egalité.” Nivers, Livre d’orgue, section “De la position des doigts.” See also Pruitt, “The Organ Works of Guil laume-Gabriel Nivers,” 158. 64. Hewlett, “The Vermehrter . . . Wegweiser of 1689,” 6. The Wegweiser (1689), a brief instruction book on the art of playing the organ, was published eleven times through 1753. It had several authors, including Giacomo Carissimi, Johann Caspar Ferdinand Fischer, Jo hann Jacob Froberger, and George Muf fat, and was the first German source af ter Arnolt Schlicke to describe keyboard posture and hand formation. Several ideas in it were similar to the writings of Diruta and Nivers. 65. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:15. 66. Hartong, Clavier-Anweisung, quot ed and trans. in Lister, “Traditions,” 207. 67. “Les personnes qui commencent tard, ou qui ont été mal-montrées feront attention que comme les nerfs peuvent ètre endurcis, ou peuvent avoir pris de mauvais plis, elles doivent se dénoüer, ou se faire dénoüer les doigts par quelqu’un, avant que de se méttre au clavecin; c’est a dire se tirer, ou se faire tirer les doigts de tous les sens; cela met d’ailleurs les esprits en mouvement; et l’on se trouve plus de liberté.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 9–10. 68. “Che molti organisti havendo habituata la mano à quei deffetti da principio, rare volte il lor sonare fa quell armonia, che doveria; la dove se havessero accommodata la mano leggera, e molle, gli verebbe ben fatto ogni cosa, per difficile, che fosse.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 9v; trans. in Crozier, “The Principles of Key board Technique in Il Transilvano,” 31.

156


69. “Che non si indurischino . . . che non battino li tasti.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 8r. 70. “E per dirui, come douete tener la mano leggiera, e molle sopra la tastura, vi darò un essempio. Quando si dà una guanciata in collera, se gli adopra gran forza. Ma quando se uol fa carezze, e vezzi, non si adopra forza, ma si tiene la mano leggiera, in qualla guisa che so gliamo accarezzare un fanciullo.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 5r. 71. Mersenne, Harmonie universelle, 161–62; trans. Chapman, 213–14. 72. Denis, Treatise on Harpsichord Tuning, 100. 73. Cabezón, Obras de musica para tecla (Madrid, 1578), quoted and trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1992), 92–93. 74. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 32. 75. Ibid., introduction, §23, 21. 76. “Les hommes qui veulent arriver à un certain degré de perfection ne de vroient jamais faire aucun exercice pé nible de leurs mains. Celles des femmes, par la raison contraire, sont générale ment meilleures. J’ai dèja dit, que la souplesse des nerfs contribuë beaucoup plus, au bien-joüer, que la force; ma prevue est sensible dans la difference des mains des femmes, à celles des hommes; et de plus, la main gauche des hommes, dont ils se servent moins dans les exer cices, est communément la plus souple au clavecin.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 12–13. 77. “Il n’y a rien de plus libre dans le jeu du clavecin, que la position des doigts. Chacun ne recherche en cela que sa commodité & la bonne grace.” SaintLambert, Les principes, 40. 78. “A l’égard de la disposition de la Main, il n’y a personne qui n’en puisse

avoir, s’il commence de bonne heure à s’exercer. Cette disposition n’étant autre chose qu’une grande souplesse dans les nerfs qui laisser aux doigts la liberté de se remuer subtilement.” Ibid., iv. 79. “Il est d’une extrême facilité à toucher, ne fatiguant point ceux qui en joüent, & n’exigeant point comme quelques autres une posture contrainte, qui même bien souvent ne convient pas aux personnes modestes. C’est ce qui l’a mis si fort en regne, que tout ce qu’il y a de Gens de distinction veulent mainte nant en sçcavoir joüer.” Ibid., iii. 80. “De placer les deux mains sur le clavier de maniere qu’on n’ait rien de gêné dans l’attitude; ce qui oblige d’exclure communément le pouce de la main droite, parce que les deux pouces posés sur le clavier & principalement sur les touches blanches donneroient aux bras une situation contrainte & de mauvaise grace.” Rousseau, “Doigter,” in Dictionnaire de musique. 81. Gasparini, The Practical Harmonist at the Keyboard, 19. 82. Manfredini, Regole armoniche, 23; trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 92. 83. Diruta, Il Transilvano; trans. in Soehnlein, “Diruta on the Art of Key board-Playing,” 127. 84. “Les coudes et les poignets doivent être de niveau au clavier, mais il faut pour la bonne grace que les coudes soyent a côté du corps d’une maniere aisée: On peut les déranger quand il faut parcourir de grands intervals sur le clavier, principalement dans les pieces ou l’on croise les mains.” Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse, p. B. 85. Petri, Anleitung zur praktischen Musik vor neuangehende Sänger und In-

Notes to pages 24–26 strumentspieler; trans. in Brauchli, “As pects” (1994), 106. 86. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, vii. 87. “Le poignet à la hauteur du coude; ce qui depend du siege qu’on prend.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 42. 88. New Instructions for Playing the Harpsichord, Piano-forte, or Spinnet, §1 and §5. 89. Manfredini, Regole armoniche, 23; trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 92. 90. “Die Händ und Armb frey von dem Leib.” Samber, Manuductio ad organum, 91; quoted and trans. in Lister, “Traditions,” 93. 91. “D’être assis à la hauter, que les coudes & le poignet soient un peu plus élevés que le niveau du clavier, afin que la main tombe comme d’elle-même sur les touches.” Bach and Ricci, Mèthode ou recueil de connoisances, 11; quoted and trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1994), 107. 92. Bach, Essay, 42. 93. I have changed Wilson’s “finger board” to “keyboard.” 94. Wilson, “Löhlein’s Klavierschule,” 124–25. 95. Türk, Klavierschule, 24–26; Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 31–33. 96. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 32. 97. Hartong, Clavier-Anweisung, trans. in Lister, “Traditions,” 218. 98. Couperin, L’art de toucher; trans. Roberts, 11. 99. “Il faut d’abord s’asseoir auprès du clavessin, de façon que les coudes soi ent plus élevés que le niveau du clavier, & que la main puisse y tomber par le seul mouvement naturel de la jointure du poignet.

157

“C’est afin que la main tombe comme d’elle même sur le clavier, qu’il faut d’abord avoir les coudes au dessus de son niveau; & ils ne sont jamais trop élevés, dès que le 1. & le 5. peuvent se placer sur le bord des touches. “En même tems que le 1. & le 5. se pla cent sur le bord des touches, il faut que les coudes tombent nonchalamment sur les côtés, dans leur situation naturelle; situation qu’il faut bien remarque, & qu’on ne doit jamais déranger que par une necessité absoluë, comme lorsq’on est oblige de transporter la main d’un bout du clavier à l’autre. “Cette situation naturelle des coudes, jointe à la juste portée du 1. & du 5. donne le point fixe où toute personne, de quelque taille qu’elle soit, doit se placer auprès du clavessin; & il ne s’agit plus que d’y proportionner le siege.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 18. 100. “Quand on se sent la main for mée, on diminuë petit-à-petit la hauteur du siége, jusqu’à ce que les coudes se trouvent un peu au-dessous du niveau du clavier; ce que engage pour lors à tenir la main comme colée au clavier, & ce qui acheve de procurer au toucher toute la liaison qu’on peut y introduire.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 19. 101. Title page of Parthenia, or the Maydenhead (London: George Lowe, ca. late 1612 or early 1613). Parthenia is a collection of twenty-one keyboard pieces, mostly galliards and pavanes by William Byrd, John Bull, and Orlando Gibbons. According to Deutsch, “Cecilia and Parthenia,” 591–92, the work was engraved by William Hole and published by George Lowe. Of the first edition, there is one surviving copy at the Hun tington Library at San Marino, Calif.

158


There are other extant copies of later edi tions. William Hole is assumed to be the engraver of the title page. It is of a woman seated at the virginal with an angelic look on her face. According to Deutsch, the woman has been said to represent Prin cess Elizabeth, or Miss Evans (for whom the work was published), or Parthenia herself, but the engraving is actually a copy of an engraving by Jacob Matham (1571–1631) of St. Cecilia, designed ca. 1588 by Matham’s stepfather, Hendrick Goltzius (1558–1617). The original work shows St. Cecilia sitting at the organ with two angels behind her. The Parthenia engraving has her playing a virginal. 102. As previously mentioned, see Brauchli’s two-part article, “Aspects of Early Keyboard Technique: Hand and Finger Positions as Seen in Early Treatises and Iconographical Docu ments,” Journal of the American Musical Instrument Society 18 (1992): 62–102 and 20 (1994): 90–220. Drawing conclusions from iconography is a perpetual chal lenge. Painters’ goals are often to show off a wealthy patron’s jewelry or expen sive fabric, and the works of art so often add symbolic images that they do not necessarily provide a reliable source of information about performance practice. Nonetheless, the image of Cecilia, at the very least, gives us a glimpse of the pos sibility that hands at the keyboard were not rigid or stiff and definitely not in a position of strictly parallel fingers. 103. “Celle-cy consiste à tenir ses mains droites sur le clavier; c’est-à-dire, ne penchant ny en dedans ny en dehors.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 42. 104. Wolf, Kurz aber deutlichen Unterricht im Klavierspielen; 52–54; trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects,” 106.

105. “Il faut aussi que la main soit horizontale avec le clavier, ce qui se re connoît aux jointures qui l’attachent aux doigts, où pour lors il faut la lever un peu du côté du 1 par un simple mouvement du poignet, sans qu’il y perde rien de sa souplesse. “Cette dernière position coûte un peu aux commençans, par rapport au petit tour de poignet en faveur du 1; mais aussi cela ce 1 ne tomberoit plus perpendicu lairement sur sa touche, & n’auroit plus la même force ni la même légèreté que les autres doigts.” Rameau, Code de musique pratique, 11–12; facsimile, Méthodes & traités, 2:50–51. It is with this paragraph that Jacques Duphly’s paragraph “Du doigter” in his “Exercise Book for Lord Fitzwilliam” (1765) and Rousseau’s entry “Doigter” from his Dictionnaire de musique borrow Rameau’s text verbatim. 106. “La jointure du poignet doit toujours être souple: cette souplesse qui se répand pour lors sur les doigts, leur donne toute la liberté & toute la legereté nécessaires: & la main qui par ce moyen se trouve, pour ainsi dire, comme morte, ne sert plus qu’a soutenir les doigts qui lui sont attachés, & à les conduire aux endroits du clavier où ils ne peuvent at teindre par le seul mouvement qui leur est propre.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 107. “L’éxécution de ces differentes batteries, & de ces differens roulemens, dépend sur-tout de la souplesse du poi gnet; en s’y conduisant d’ailleurs par des mouvemens doux & legers, & en y conservant le point fixe à la jointure du coude, lorsque la batterie excéde l’étenduë de la main.” Ibid., 19. 108. “Dans toutes les positions, dans les plus grands écarts, la main obéit aux

Notes to pages 29–32 doigts, la jointure du poignet à la main, & celle du coude au poignet; jamais l’épaule ne doit y entrer pour rien.” Rameau, Code de musique pratique, 12; facsimile, Méthodes & traités, 2:51. 109. Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 8r; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 40. 110. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, vii. 111. Denis, Treatise on Harpsichord Tuning, 97. See also “The Music Master” by Jan Steen (ca. 1666), under “Harpsi chord” in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. 112. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:13. 113. Sancta Maria uses the term monocordio for clavichord, the primary instrument (and organ) for which his treatise was intended. 114. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasia, f. 36 & f. 37; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 35. See also The Art of Playing the Fantasia, trans. Howell and Hultberg, 92. 115. Sancta Maria’s early keyboard technique may have based its wrist posi tion on ones seen in medieval icons of portative organs. The player’s left arm would hold the instrument and work the bellows while the right hand played the keys. Hickman notes that portative organ technique held the instrument elevated, almost perpendicular to the body, making it more comfortable if played with a low wrist. Also, once the instrument began to be placed on a table and positive organs began to appear, this affected the hand position as well. See Hickman, Das Portative; quoted and trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1992), 65. Brauchli’s article shows iconographical examples of lower wrist positions when

159

the portative organ was held on the knees and the player reached up to the keys and drew them down from below. 116. “La tercera condicion, que es herir bien las teclas, consiste en seys cosas. La primera es herir las teclas con las yemas de los dedos, de tal manera que las Uñas no alleguen ni toquen cõ mucho a las teclas, lo qual se hara baxando las Muñecas, y estendido los dedod del me dio dedo adelãte, porque hirien do desta manera, suenan las bozes enteras, dulces, y suaves. La razon desto es, porque como la carne sea cosa blande, hiere con blan dura y suavidad. Y de mas desto se tañe con limpieza, porque como dos dedos hazen assiento en las teclas, no pueden deslizar ni huyr a ninguna parte. Y por el contrario, quando se hiere con las uñas, se cometé dos grades defectos, y tambien desmayadas y sin espiritu.” Sancta Ma ria, Arte de tañer fantasia, f. 37. 117. Diritua, Il Transilvano, f. 5r; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 36. 118. Diritua, Il Transilvano, f. 4v; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 35. 119. Diruta, Il Transilvano, in his sec tion “How to carry the hand loosely and lightly,” f. 5r. 120. “El primer passo que es neces sario dàr para poner por demonstracion la musica en el Organo, es la postura de las manos; (que la planta de el cuerpo tan solamente es disposicion.) La qual ha de ser, segun dixe en el Capitulo undecimo, llevando los dedos un poco arqueados, no tanto que hiera con las uñas en las teclas, ni tampoco que hiera con el lleno de la yema; porque de uno, y otro modo se sigue inconveniente grande para le execucion.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 457.

160


121. “Como son desiguales los dedos de las manos, importa que la postura sea proporcionada con todos ellos; para que al tiempo que aya de mover cada uno, sea el movimiento natural, no violento. “Si la postura de la mano fuere de modo que los dedos estuvieren sobrada mente arqueados hiriendo con las uñas, es de notar, que como es mas largo el tercer dedo que los otros, es preciso que esté mas arqueado; y quando lo ha de mover de una tecla para llevarlo á otra, ha de ser mayor el movimiento, por aver le de estender mas que los otros, según regla mathematica, el qual movimiento es violento, por ser improporcionado. Y lo mismo es en todos los otros dedos, que los movimientos son improporciona dos, cada qual según la proporcion que tiene: de donde se ha de inferir, que en semejante postura de manos, todos los movimientos son violentos; y esta es la causa de la falta de execucion, en los que hazen habito de semejante postura. “Quando la postura de las manos es llevar los dedos muy poco arqueados, ó nada, se hiere la tecla con mas parte de el dedo, y es con toda la yema, y por la misma desigualdad de ellos, son los movimientos mas desiguales, y mas vio lentos, porque por la improporcionalidad de la postura, son improporcionados los movimientos, como efectos producidos de ella; y estos movimientos violentos, é improporcionados, producen ciertos efectos de tardança, é ineptitud para la agilidad. “Por esso conviene, que ni estén mu cho, ni poco arqueados, si en un medio, porque estando assi, es proporcionada la postura de la mano, con todos los dedos; que como son desiguales en longitud, es necessario que convenga la proporcion

con cada uno, hiriendo todos con la ex tremidad de la yema en igual proporcion; lo que no puede ser siendo improporcio nada la postura. “Pero siendo assi, se siguen tres efec tos buenos: el primero, que hieren con igualdad todos; conformandose en ser con la extremidad de cada uno; y de aquí se produce el segundo, que es el pulsar con igual fuerza de todos ellos las teclas; materia importantissima para que todos los sonidos se perciban con igual cuerpo. El tercer efecto es el ser los movimientos de ellos naturales, y nada violentos, que á menos trabajo se consigue la docilidad de los nervios, y agilidad en los dedos. “Por todas las razones dichas importa mucho el cuydado en los Maestros de Organo, quando enseñan, y en los que aprenden, que se hagen cargo de que las posturas de las manos sean con propiedad; porque si erraren en ello, seria lo mismo que errar el fundamento de la fabrica.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 457–58. 122. “Die Hand mus rund gemacht werden, und geschieht dies, so hat sich Niemand über die Kürze des Daumens und kleinen Fingers zu beklagen.” Wolf, Kurz aber deutlichen Unterricht im Klavierspielen (Halle, 1789), pt. 1, 52. 123. Bach, Essay, 42. 124. “I have often wondered why Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Essay on the Right Manner of Playing the Clavier does not elucidate the qualities that consti tute a good touch. For he possessed in high degree the technique that made his father preeminent as a player.” Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 50. 125. Ibid., 49–51. 126. Forkel, Über Johann Sebastian Bachs Leben; trans. in David and Men

Notes to pages 35–38 del, The Bach Reader, 307–308 (trans. slightly revised). 127. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 32. 128. Ibid. 129. “La belle manière de poser les mains sur le clavier est d’arrondir les trois doigts du milieu de façon qu’ils soient presque a l’egalité du pouce et du petit doigt, sur une même ligne droite audessus de cinq touches de suite, com me par example ut, re, mi, fa, sol, car s’il se trouve plusieurs doigts sur une même touché seulement la main a mauvaise grace, mais cela empêche encore la lib erté et la souplesse des doigts.” Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse, p. B; Mé thodes & traités, 2:10. 130. Nivers, Livre d’orgue I and Pruitt, “Organ Works,” 158. 131. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, v. 132. Samber, Manuductio ad organum, 91–97; quoted and trans. in Lister, “Tra ditions,” 94. 133. “Il n’y a rien de plus libre dans le jeu du clavecin, que la position des doigts. . . . La commodité de celuy qui joüe est la première regle qu’il doit suivre; la bonne grace est la seconde.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 40. 134. “Les doigts courbez & tous rangez au même niveau, pris sur la lon gueur du pouce.” Ibid., 42. 135. “La perfection du doigter consiste en general dans un mouvement doux, léger & régulier. Le mouvement des doigts se prende leur racine; c’est-à-dire, à la jointure qui les attaché à la main. Il faut que les doigts soient courbés na turellement, et que chaque doigt ait un mouvement propre et indépendant des autres doigts.” Jacques Duphly, “Exercise Book for Lord Fitzwilliam”; facsimile,

161

Méthodes & traités, 2:71. Duphly takes these ideas directly from Rameau’s pref ace to his Pièces de clavecin, but he does not acknowledge him as the author. 136. “Le 1. & le 5. se trouvant sur le bord des touches, engagent à courber les autres doigts, pour qu’ils puis sant se trouver également sur le bord des touches: mais en laissant tomber la main, comme il a été dit, les doigts s’arondissent naturellement au point qu’il faut: & pour lors on ne doit plus ni les alonger, ni les arondir d’avantage, excepté dans de certains cas, où l’on ne peut mieux faire.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 137. “Il faut regarder les doigts at tachés à la main, comme des ressorts attachés à un manche par des charnières qui leur laissent une entière liberté . . . la main doit être, pour ainsi dire, morte, & le poignet dans la plus grande soup lesse, pour que les doigts agissant de leur prompre mouvement, puissent gagner de la force, de la légèreté & de l’égalité entre eux. “Cela étant, placez les cinq doigts sur cinq touches consécutives du clavier, où le pouce s’avance sur la sienne, l’ongle tout-à-fait en dehors, à peu près jusqu’à sa première jointure, pendant que les autres doigts tombent perpendiculaire ment sure les leurs, & cela de leur propre poids, en s’arrondissant d’eux-mêmes sans les contraindre, le 1 (f) [in chap. 1, article 2, he counts the little finger as 1, the ring finger as 2, etc.] moins rond que les autres, puisqu’il est plus petit.” Rameau, Code de musique pratique, 11; quoted in Méthodes & Traités, 2:50. 138. “Den Laerende mad venne sine Fingere strat udi Begyndelsen af ClaverSpillene, at holde dem mere krumme

162


end lige udstrakte. For altering merk, at Tommel-Fingern den holdes vel near til Pege-Fingeren, ja udi Spillen meest under same. Tommel-Fingeren maa vel vennes til at bruges i Spillen, og ikke (som somme af de Antique ClaveerMeestre laerer) at spille med de 4rd Fingre foruden Tommel-Fingeren.” Thielo, Tanker og Regler fra Grunden af om Musiken, pt. 2, 25–27; quoted in Lister, “Traditions,” 200; also quoted in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1994), 102; trans. by Eva Legene. 139. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:79. 140. “Les deux mains sur le clavier de manière qu’on n’ait rien de gêné dans l’habitude: ce qui oblige d’exclure com munément un des pouces; les autres doigts écartés de la largeur des touches & un peu recourbés sur elles, & chaque doigt ayant son mouvement propre, indépendant des autres. . . . On doit lever la main entière le moins qu’il se puet.” Bach and Ricci, Méthode ou recueil de connoisances, 11; quoted & trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1994), 107. 2. Touching the Instrument 1. Couperin, L’art de toucher, 9–10. 2. “J’ay toujours fait faire à mes élèves de petites evolutions des doigts, soit de passages, ou de batteries diversifieés à commencer par les plus simples, et sur les tons les plus naturels; et insensiblement je les ay menés jusqu’aux plus Lègers, et aux plus transposés; ces petits Exercices qu’on ne sçauroit trop multiplier.” Ibid., 8–9. 3. “Evolutions ou petits exercices pour former les mains.” Ibid., 28. He also refers to them in the first page of his introductory section, “Plan de cette méthode” (Plan of this method).

4. “De petits exercices préliminaires, et essentials, pour parvenir à bien jouer.” Ibid., 1. Couperin mentions them again in his treatise under the heading “Petits exercices qu’il faut pratiquer pour par venir aux pieces” (Little exercises that one must practice in order to play [these] pieces). 5. “Tous ces progrés se doivent éxercer sur tous les tons, et demi-tons du clavier.” Ibid., 28. Also of interest are some of his fingerings. 6. Miller, Institutes of Music, 21. 7. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” in “Structural Plan of This Work,” T-x. 8. Marpurg’s exercises 9–14 on plate IX are derived from Couperin’s evolutions. 9. Moroney, “Couperin, Marpurg, and Roeser,” 124–25. Plate VII, exercise 30 comes from the three-part ricercar of the Musicalisches Opfer (1747). Plate VII, exercises 32 and 33 come from the G-major fugue and the F♯ -minor fugue in book 2 of Das wohltemperierte Klavier (1742). Plate XIX/13 is the last bar of the little trio on Allein Gott in der Höh (first setting) from Clavierübung III (1739). Plate VIII, exercises 41 and 42 and Plate IX, exercises 22 and 23 are derived from variations 17 and 23 of the Goldberg Variations (1741). 10. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 93. See also Bach’s Versuch and Kirnberger’s Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik, both of which reflect Bach’s supposed teaching method. 11. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 29. 12. Ibid. 13. Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 43; trans. in Harris-Warrick, Principles, 76. 14. “Il seroit tres utile de pouvoir éxercer les jeunes personnes à faire des

Notes to page 45 tremblemens de tous les doigts: mais comme cela depend en partie de la dis position naturèle; et que quelquesunes ont plus ou moins de liberté, et de force, de certains doigts; Il faut laisser ce choix aux personnes qui les instruisent.” Cou perin, L’art de toucher, 22. 15. (1) La perfection du toucher sur le clavessin consiste principalement dans un mouvement des doigts bien dirigé. (2) Ce mouvement peut s’acquérir par une simple méchanique; mais il faut qu’on sçache le ménager. (3) Cette méchanique n’est autre chose qu’un exercice frequent d’un mouvement régulier: les disposi tions qu’elle demande sont naturelles à un chacun; il en est comme de celles qu’on a pour marcher, ou si l’on veut, pour courir. (4) La faculté de marcher ou de courir vient de la souplesse du jar ret: celle de toucher le clavessin depend de la souplesse des doigts à leur racine. (5) L’exercice continuel où l’on est de marcher, rend à un chacun le mouvement du jarret Presque également libre. Le peu d’exercice que nous faisons, au contraire, du mouvement necessaire aux doigts pour toucher le clavessin, ne permet pas que leur liberté se developpe: d’ailleurs nos habitudes particulieres font contracter aux doigts des mouvemens si contraires à celui qu’exige le clavessin, que cette liberté en est sans cesse traversée. . . . (8) Il re sulte donc de toutes ces remarques qu’un exercice frequent & bien entendu est l’auteur infaillible de la parfaite execution sur le clavessin: & c’est delà que j’ai conçu une méthode particuliere, pour renouvel ler dans les doigts le mouvement dont la nature les a douez, & pour en augmenter la liberté. . . . (19) Il faut que chaque doigt ait son mouvement particulier & indépendant de tout autre: de sorte que

163

quand même on est obligé de transporter la main à un certain endroit du clavier, il faut encore que le doigt dont on se sert pour lors, tombe sur la touche par son seul mouvement. . . . (24) Souvenez-vous de faire agir chaque doigt par son mouve ment particulier; & observez que le doigt qui quitte une touche, en soit toujours si proche, qu’il paroisse la toucher. . . . (26) Observez une grande égalité de mouve mens entre chaque doigts, & sur-tout ne precipités jamais ces mouvemens: car la légereté & la vitesse ne s’acquierent que par cette égalité de mouvemens; & sou vent pour trop se presser, on fuit ce qu’on cherche. (27) Il faut tâcher d’acquerir le mouvement necessaire dans les doigts, & de donner à chacun d’eux son mouvement particulier, avant que de mettre leur force à l’épreuve: de sorte que je ne propose de les placer d’abord sur le clavier, que pour qu’on s’accoutume à proportionner la dis tance de l’un à l’autre à celle des touches de ce clavier. Mais comme on a d’abord de la peine à les faire mouvoir chacun en particulier, celle qu’on auroit encore à leur faire enfoncer les touches, seroit ca pable de détruire la perfection qui doit se trouver dans leur mouvement.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 16–19. 16. “Ceci se répète souvent sans dis continuer, et avec égalité de mouvement.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17; trans. in Williams, ed., Bach, Handel, Scarlatti, 223. 17. “Cette leçon se pratique d’abord de chaque main en particulier; & que quand on se sent maître de conduire ses doigts conformément à l’explication précédent, on l’éxerce des deux mains ensemble; on fait commencer une main avant l’autre d’autant de notes que l’on veut, tantôt plus, tantôt moins; enfin

164


on s’y prend de toutes les manières possibles, jusqu’à ce qu’on reconnoisse que les mains soient dans une si bonne habitude, qu’il n’y a plus lieu de craindre qu’elles se gâtent: ce qui ne s’acquiert pas en un jour, & ce qui cependant abrège infiniment l’étude nécessaire pour ar river au point de perfection qu’on désire.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 18. 18. Bach, Essay, 42. 19. Ibid., 42–43. 20. In chapter 4, I discuss more fully the technique of contracting the hand. 21. “La principal causa para con seguir grande execución, es el mucho exercicio de estudiar en el instrumento; y segun fuere este, será el efecto producido de esta causa: Si fuere poco el exercicio, conseguirà poca execución en los dedos; y si fuera mucho, mucha. “Aunque tambien ay algunos sugetos, que à menos trabajo que otros, consiguen mas execucion: y en estos procede de la causa de tener mas flexibles los nervios naturalmente, ó por la poca edad, ó so brada robustez. Los que necessitan de mayor exercicio, son todos aquellos que no tienen tanta flexibilidad en los nervios, por ser de complexion muy devil, ó por aver començado à estudiar dicha facultad fuera de el estado de la niñéz: y este de fecto natural, no tiene otro modo para corregirse, que el de mucha aplicacion al estudio.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 472. 22. Bach, Essay, 39. 23. “La douceur du toucher dépend encore de tenir ses doigts le plus prés des touches qu’il est possible. Il est sensé de croire (l’experience àpart) qui une main qui tombe de hault donne un coup plus sec, que sy elle touchoit de prés; et que la plume tire un Son plus dur de la corde.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 7.

24. Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 4v; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 35. 25. Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 8; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 40. 26. When the quill is plucked vio lently or too quickly, one hears only the percussive attack and not the tone. If the finger leaves the key perpendicularly, instead of horizontally toward the palm, the sound is cut off too abruptly. 27. “Ay unos, que pulsan las teclas, no mas que á medio sonar, otros, que en las glossas de punto á punto es mas el tiempo que se calla, que el que suena, otros hieren con tanta violencia, que á vezes descomponen los teclados; y otros, que al tiempo de assentar el dedo, vio lentan la tecla á un lado, ú á otro; causa de donde se origina muchas vezes el que darse algunas. “Estos, y otros defectos se hallan en algunos Organistas, que pudieron los Maestros reparalos á los principios, y por negligencia suya son las habilidades defectuosas, que por esso conviene, que á los principios, en qualquiera ciencia de monstrable, se elija buen Maestro, bien experimentado, porque la doctrina la admite el Discipulo qual se le enseña. “Porque, como dize el Angelico Doc tor, la doctrina es un conocimiento recibido de otro. Si esta se recibe Buena á los principios, se conserva siempre del mismo modo. La enseñança que deven tener los Maestros con los Principiantes, en quanto á la pulsacion de las teclas ha de ser, que al tiempo de el herir, sea el dedo solo el que mueva; que algunos no solo mueven la mano, si el brazo. Otros, para mudar los dedos de las teclas, levan tan la mano, y este movimiento es super

Notes to page 49 fluo, porque basta el de los dedos: que por esso les dió la naturaleza Facultad de moverlos, sin necessitar del movimiento de la mano.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 461. 28. Harpsichords may also suffer from key action that is too heavy. One should try to voice the quills so they are not over-plucking, or check to see that the wood of the jacks or the slots into which they fall are not swollen, causing them to stick. Temperature and humidity are two chief factors that affect both the swelling and drying out of wood. When working correctly, the jacks should rise and fall back into their slots smoothly and easily. There may be other reasons for a stiff action on a harp sichord. The answer to this problem is not to force one’s fingers to press harder, although in live performance situations where we do not always have the option of maintaining the instrument as we so desire, we may be forced to reconcile these differences by altering our touch. 29. This resembles Rameau’s discus sion of the movement required for good technique on both the harpsichord and the organ. Rameau describes a motion from finger to finger, key to key, that is simultaneous in its movement—as one drops down, the previous one is raised. “Du doigt par lequel on a commencé, on passé à son voisin, & ainsi de l’un à l’autre; en observant que celui qui vient d’enfoncer une touche, la quitte dans le même instant que son voisin en enfonce une autre: car le lever d’un doigt & le toucher d’un autre doivent être executés dans le même moment.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 30. “Importa tambien, que la pul sación de las teclas en toda quanta musica se executa, sea natural, y nada violenta.

165

Unos levantan la mano de el teclado sobradamente para herir, otros aplican tanta fuerça á los dedos, que se oyen mas los golpes de las teclas, que los sonidos de ellas, y otros las pulsan con tanta suavi dad, que no las abaxan suficientemente para formar los sonidos con propriedad. “Los que levantan las manos tocan im proprissimamente, porque tanto quanto mas se levante la mano de la tecla, tanto mayor ha de ser el intervalo de tiempo de sonido á sonido, quitando á las figuras de su justo valor, y por esso los tales no dán el ayre proprio á la musica. “Los que añaden fuerza à los dedos para pulsar las teclas, haziendo habito de ello, se impossibilitan para la mayor velocidad de las glossas: porque por la fuerza que aplican, se les cansan mas prontamente las manos. Y aunque dan la razon que lo hazen por poder executar bien en los Organos que tienen los tecla dos fuertes, no es razon que convence; porque es con mas excesso la fuerza que aplican, que la que es necessario para abaxarlas por fuertes que estèn. “. . . Las manos, ni los dedos nunca se han de levanter del teclado para pulsar las teclas, si tan solamente lo que baste para que dexe de sonar la tecla, de modo, que apenas se perciba el intervalo de tiempo que ay de sonido à sonido: ni tampoco ha de ser tanta la fuerza, que se aplique á los dedos que sea excesiva, si tan solamente aquella que sea necessaria para abaxar la tecla. “. . . Ay unos sugetos, que natural mente tienen la mano mas pesada, ó alcançan mas fuerza en ella; y estos à menos aplicacion, pueden proporcionar la pulsación de las teclas. Otros, por el extremo contrario, siendo la fuerzas muy deviles, necessitan para regular la pulsa

166


ción de aplicar la fuerza con mas eficacia, habituandose desde los principios, hasta llegar á conseguir con el habito, assi la igualdad general de la pulsación, como la particular de algunos dedos, que natu ralmente no alcançan tanta fuerza como otros.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 471–72. 31. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 50. 32. “Ne levant point les doigts trop haut en joüant, & n’appuyant point aussi trop fort sur les touches.” Saint-Lam bert, Les principes, 42. 33. “Souvenez-vous de faire agir chaque doigt par son mouvement par ticulier; & observez que le doigt qui quitte une touche, en soit toujours si proche, qu’il paroisse la toucher.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 34. “Quand on se sent la main formé, on diminuë petit-à-petit la hauteur du siege, jusqu’à ce que les coudes se trou vent un peu au-dessous du niveau du clavier; ce qui engage pour lors à tenir la main comme colée au clavier, & ce qui achève de procurer au toucher toute la liaison qu’on peut y introduire.” Ibid., 19. 35. “Il faut que les doigts tombent sur les touches, & non pas qu’ils les frap pent; il faut de plus qu’ils coulent, pour ainsi dire, de l’un à l’autre en se suc cedant: ce qui doit vous prévenir sur la douceur avec laquelle vous devez vous y prendre en commençant.” Ibid., 17. 36. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:79. 37. The original French uses jeu coulant (flowing playing). 38. “Tout le monde sçait que cet illustre personage a excellé pardessus les autres, tant à cause des pièces qu’il a composées, que parce qu’il a esté la source de la belle manière du toucher, où il faisoit paroître un jeu brillant & un jeu coulant si bien conduit & si bien mé

nagé l’un avec l’autre qu’il estoit impos sible de mieux faire. On sçait qu’outre la science & la netteté, il avoit une deli catesse de main que les autres n’avoient pas; de sorte que s’il faisoit un accord, qu’un autre en même temps eût imité en faisant la même chose, on y trouvoit neanmoins une grande différence; & la raison en est, comme j’ay dit, qu’il avoit une adresse & une maniere d’appliquer les doigts sur les touches qui estoit in connuë aux autres.” Le Gallois, Lettre, 68–69; trans. in Moroney “Couperin, Marpurg, and Roeser.” (See Moroney, p. 112, on a “belle manière.”) Le Gallois uses the expression “belle manière du toucher” (a beautiful manner of play ing). See also Moroney, “Chambon nières and his ‘Belle manière.’” 39. “Il s’ensuit donc evidemment de tout ce que nous avons dit qu’encore qu’il y ait parmy les Maîtres differentes manieres de joüer, il est vray nean moins de dire que quelques unes de ces manieres sont plus excellentes que les autres; & même qu’il y en a une qui doit l’emporter par dessus toutes, parce qu’elle est plus naturelle, plus délicate, plus propre, & par consequent plus agreable; & telle est celle de Chambon nières.” Le Gallois, Lettre, 82. 40. “À cause qu’ils les passent trop viste; ou qu’ils n’appuyent pas assez fort pour les faire entendre, ou qu’ils frap pent les touches au lieu de les couler.” Ibid., 77. 41. “Mais si le jeu brillant a ses defauts, le jeu coulant a aussi les siens, qui sont aisez à remarquer dans ceux à qui l’affectation fait couler leur jeu avec beaucoup de gehenne. Car ils font de si grandes contorsions de mains & de doigts; ils les élevent les uns sur les

Notes to pages 51–61 autres avec tant d’excez, en les serrant extraordinairement, que cela dégoute & fait pitié.” Ibid., 79. 42. “Et c’est dequoy nous avons un bel exemple dans les personnes de Chambonnières & de Couperin, dont nous avons parlé, & que nous avons proposez comme deux chefs de secte.” Ibid., 85. 43. “L’un touchoit le coeur, & l’autre touchoit l’oreille.” Ibid., 85. 44. “Parce qu’elle est plus naturelle, plus délicate, plus propre, & par con séquent plus agreable; & telle est celle de Chambonnières.” Ibid., 82. 45. “La première est cette belle & agreable maniere dont feu Chambon nières se servoit. Tout le monde sçait que cet illustre personnage a excellé par dessus les autres . . . que parce qu’il a esté la source de la belle maniere du toucher.” Ibid., 68–69. 46. “On sçait qu’outre la science & la netteté, il avoit une delicatesse de main que les autres n’avoient pas.” Ibid., 69. 47. “N’appesentissez jamais le toucher de vos doigts par l’effort de votre main; que ce soit au contraire votre main que en soutenant vous doigts, rende leur toucher plus leger: cela est d’une grande conséquense. “ Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 48. Mersenne, Harmonie universelle; trans. in Chapman, 213–14. 49. Parsons, The Elements of Music, 10. 50. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 51. 51. Griepenkerl in his 1819 edition of J. S. Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue; trans. in Faulkner, “Griepenkerl on J. S. Bach’s Keyboard Technique,” 63–64. Griepenkerl’s remarks on Bach’s keyboard technique are derived from Forkel’s biography. In the title page of

167

his edition of the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, Griepenkerl traces his lin eage from J. S. Bach to Forkel through Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, not C. P. E. Bach. 52. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasia, fol. 49r; trans. in Sachs and Ife, Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 24. See Delft, “Schnellen: A Quintes sential Articulation Technique in Eighteenth-Century Keyboard Playing,” in Hogwood, The Keyboard in Baroque Europe, 188n4. See also Art of Playing the Fantasia, 120. 53. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasia, fol. 49v; trans. in Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods, 25. See also Art of Playing the Fantasia,131. 54. Bach, Essay, 46, 73. 55. Forkel, Über Johann Sebastian Bachs Leben, 12–13; trans. in David and Mendel, eds., The Bach Reader, 307–308. Bach’s Versuch, however, nowhere men tions this scratch technique, other than in playing mordents. 56. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 52. 57. Griepenkerl; trans. in Faulkner, “Griepenkerl on J. S. Bach’s Keyboard Technique,” 64. 58. Quantz, trans. in Reilly, On Playing the Flute, 259–60. Quantz identifies this player in his index as J. S. Bach, with reference to “his way of placing the fin gers at the keyboard.” 59. Müller’s revised edition of Löh lein’s Clavierschule, 52. 60. Hummel, A Complete Theoretical and Practical Course of Instructions, on the Art of Playing the Pianoforte, 65. 61. Müller and Czerny, Grosse Fortepiano-Schule, 39. 62. Nurmi, A Plain & Easy Introduction to the Harpsichord, 22–23.

168


63. Buchner, Fundamentbuch (ca. 1520, 1551); trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 23–24. 64. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasía. trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 40. 65. Saint-Lambert, Les principles, 100. 66. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 52–53, 60. 67. Burney, An Account of the Musical Performances in Westminster Abbey . . . in Commemoration of Handel, 35. 68. “La perfection du toucher sur le clavessin consiste principalement dans un mouvement des doigts bien dirigé. . . . La jointure de poignet doit toujours être souple: cette souplesse qui se répand pour lors sur les doigts, leur donne toute la liberté & toute la legereté nécessaires.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 16–17. 69. Broderip, Plain and Easy Instructions, 12. 70. Couperin, Pièces de clavecin, trans. Gilbert, xxiii. 71. Hays quoting Marpurg in his periodical, Der critische Musicus an der Spree, Berlin, 26 August 1749, 206. 72. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:15. 73. Quantz, On Playing the Flute, 253; C. P. E. Bach, Versuch, 2:368–69. 74. Bach, Essay, 64. 75. Ibid., 64, fig. 179. 76. Häkkinen, “The Clavichord and the Harpsichord,” 26. 77. Ibid., 24. 78. Ibid., 26. 79. David Fuller, “Duphly,” Grove Music Online. 80. Marpurg (1754), quoted in Fuller, “Duphly.” 81. My first harpsichord teacher, Laurette Goldberg, made me agree to

give up piano for the first three years of learning the harpsichord so as to make “the switch” and not “spoil my hand” with the muscles needed for playing the larger Romantic repertoire on the piano. I have since returned to playing the modern piano, but my touch has become more harpsichord-like: with less arm weight, more delicate, and very fingeroriented. 82. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:3. 83. Bach, Essay, 37–38. 84. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 11–12. 85. Löhlein; trans. in Wilson, “ Löh lein’s Klavierschule,” 97. 86. Rellstab, Anleitung für Clavierspieler, Anleitung, 2; trans. Jenkins, “The Legato Touch and the ‘Ordinary’ Man ner,” 140. 87. G. F. Wolf, Unterricht, 2nd ed., Einleitung, 11; trans. Jenkins, 140. 3. Articulation 1. Classical rhetoric dates back to pre-Socratic philosophers. In ancient and medieval times, oratory was taught as a subject that dealt with precise, effective, and persuasive use of language through the study of literary models, invention of new knowledge, and a process of question and answer. In Western culture, it was later taught as part of the trivium (rhetoric, logic, and grammar). Modern studies of rhetoric incorporate a wider range of meanings than in ancient times. See George J. Buelow, “Rhetoric and Music,” Grove Music Online. 2. Rameau, Dissertation on the Different Methods of Accompaniment, trans. Hayes, 28. 3. Türk, Klavierschule, 329.

Notes to pages 71–77 4. Buelow, “Rhetoric and Music.” 5. See Bruce Dickey and David La socki, “Tonguing,” Grove Music Online. 6. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 49. 7. Bach, Essay, 118. 8. Ibid., 149, 154, 155. 9. Ibid., 149. 10. Ibid., 117. 11. Ibid., 148–49. 12. Ibid., 115. 13. Löhlein, Clavierschule (1765), 1:69; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 99. 14. Quantz, On Playing the Flute, 129. 15. Ibid. 16. Koch, Musikalisches Lexicon, s.v. “Adagio,” 63–64; trans. in Jenkins, “Le gato Touch,” 267. 17. David Fallows, “Tempo and Ex pression Marks,” Grove Music Online. 18. “C’est un ornament considerable et politesse du toucher, que demarquer distinctement touttes les notes, et d’en couler subtile quelques unes, ce que la manière de chanter enseigne propre ment. Pour distinguer et marquer les notes, il faut leuer tost et non pas si haut les doigts, c’est a dire que (par exemple) en faisant une diminution ou roulade de notes consecutives, il faut leuer promptement l’une en frappant l’autre et ainsy des autres; car si vous ne leuez l’une qu’apres que vous aurez frappe l’autre, pour lors ce n’est pas distinguer mais confondre les notes.” Nivers, Livre d’orgue I, section “De la distinction et du coulement des notes,” preface. 19. Sulzer, Allgemeine Theorie, “Vor trag,” 1253; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 266. 20. Just as ancient writers and orators (e.g., Aristotle, Cicero, and Quintilian)

169

used rhetorical means to influence the emotions of their listeners, the language of several Baroque music treatises teach es the composer to move the affects (Ger. Affektenlehre), rationalized emotional states or passion, such as sadness, anger, hate, joy, love, and jealousy. Beginning in the late sixteenth century, music theo rists drew analogies between rhetoric and music. From the mid-seventeenth century onward, several treatises de voted sections to describing affects as they relate to musical expression. These include writings by Mersenne, Kircher, Werckmeister, Printz, Mattheson, Marpurg, Scheibe, and Quantz. See also George J. Buelow, “Affects, Theory of the,” Grove Music Online. 21. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 347. 22. Ibid., 352. 23. Ibid., 348. 24. Ibid., 352. 25. Wolf, Unterricht (1784), 2nd ed., 81; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 267. 26. I suggest starting with these sources: Walther, Musicalisches Lexicon; Koch, Musikalisches Lexicon; Mersenne, Harmonie universelle; Rousseau, Dictionnaire de musique; Brossard, Dictionnaire de musique; Strahle, An Early Music Dictionary. 27. The Collins German Dictionary, 8th reprint, 1988, defines ordentlich as “tidy, neat, or orderly.” It defines gewöhnlich as “normal, ordinary, usual, ha bitual, or common.” See Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 247. He suspects that the “or dinary manner” relates primarily to the performance of fast passagework (269). 28. Diruta, Il Transilvano, 1:63; trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 69.

170


29. “Otros dán por otro extremo, que es no dár el movimiento bastante á los dedos, pues al herir una tecla, no levan tan el de la que hirieron antes á tiempo, y se alcançan los sonidos uno á otro. Se ha de huir de estos dos extremos, porque son inconvenientes, y no pequeños, regu lando el tiempo de modo, que los sonidos se sucedan uno á otro, ni tampoco que se alcancen, porque no aya confusion.” Na ssarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 462. 30. Marpurg, Anleitung, 25; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 220. 31. “Sowohl dem Schleifen als Ab stossen ist das ordentliche fortgehen entgegen gesetzet, welches darinnen besteht, dass man ganz hurtig kurz vor her, ehe man die folgende Note berüh ret, den Finger von der vorhergehenden Taste aufhebet. Dieses ordentliche Fortgehen wird, weil es allezeit voraus gesetzet wird, niemahls angezeiget.” Marpurg, Anleitung, 29; trans. by Ted die Hwang. There appears to be no actual mention of a perceptible silence in Marpurg’s treatise other than in his discussion of detached playing, when he advocates shortening the note values by one half if staccato dots are placed above the notes. 32. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 51. 33. Hodermann, Kurzer Unterricht für Musik-Anfänger; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 258. 34. Portato produces smooth, evenly toned notes, but, unlike legato, every note is separated from the next by a very short rest. 35. Hensel, Ausübende Klavierschule, vol. 1: B, “Regeln des Vortrages”; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 266.

36. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 335, 340, 345; Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 238, 248. 37. Rellstab, Anleitung, pt. 3, xii; Jen kins, “Legato Touch,” 248. 38. “Sobald ein Finger seine Taste angeschlagen hat, sobald muss er auch wieder aufgehoben werden.” Merbach, Clavierschule, 16, 37; Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 248, 250. 39. Petschke, Versuch eines Unter richts zum Klavierspielen, appendix, 8; trans. Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 250. 40. “Du doigt par lequel on a com mencé, on passé à son voisin, & ainsi de l’un à l’autre; en observant que celui qui vient d’enfoncer une touche, la quitte dans le même instant que son voisin en enfonce une autre: car le lever d’un doigt & le toucher d’un autre doivent être exe cutés dans le même moment.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 41. “Legatissimo: a kind of super legato in which the preceding note is held for a short moment together with the follow ing one.” Apel and Daniel, Harvard Brief Dictionary of Music, s.v. “Legato.” 42. Correa, Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica, Intro. 65; quoted and trans. in Brauchli, “Aspects” (1992): 92. 43. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, 26. 44. Ibid., 19, 26. 45. Ibid., 21. 46. “Il faut conserver une liaison par faite dans ce qu’on y execute.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 61. 47. “Il faut que les doigts tombent sur les touches & non qu’ils les frappent, & de plus qu’ils coulent de l’une à l’autre en se succédant; c’est-à-dire, qu’il ne faut quitter une touche qu’aprés en avoir pris

Notes to pages 82–86 une autre. Ceci regarde particulièrement le jeu françois.” 48. “Le même instant que son voisin en enfonce une autre.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 49. Rameau, Treatise on Harmony, 377–444. 50. Miller, Institutes, chap. 5, lesson 1x, 14. 51. Rameau includes this piece in Pièces de clavecin (1724) as part of his table of ornaments. (As I mentioned in chapter 2, Miller uses a fingering system of +, 1, 2, 3, 4 to denote the thumb, in dex, etc.) 52. Miller, Institutes, chap. 9, 20. 53. Ibid., chap. 10, 22. 54. Hüllmandel, Principles of Music Calculated for the Pianoforte or Harpsichord, 21; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 258. 55. Marpurg, Clavierstücke mit einem practischen Unterricht für Anfänger und Geübter, 3; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 238. 56. “Couler c’est ne relever le doigt de la note précédente que l’on n’ait touché la suivante.” Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, 34. 57. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 345. 58. Wolf, Unterricht, 84; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 248. 59. Rigler, Anleitung zum Gesange, und dem Klaviere oder die Orgel zu spielen, 92. His treatise is probably more for piano or organ than for harpsichord. Nonetheless, he writes about overlap ping notes, which pertain to multiple keyboard possibilities. 60. Milchmeyer, Die wahre Art das Pianoforte zu spielen, 6; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 105.

171

61. Parsons, The Elements of Music, 10. 62. “Finger substitution” on the key board applies to the method of changing fingers upon a key that is being played in order to facilitate the use of that (for mer) finger for the following note, usu ally for the sake of joining notes together in a legato manner. Couperin gives sev eral examples of this technique in L’art de toucher le clavecin. See Rodgers, “Early Keyboard Fingering, ca. 1520–1620,” 74, for a discussion on the application of similar techniques used by Sancta Maria and pp. 87 and 89 for its use by Prencourt. 63. “Remarqués quelle liaison les changemens de doigts donnent au jeu! Mais, on me dira qu’il faut plus d’adrèsse que dans l’ancienne manière. J’en con uiens.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 46. 64. “Ces deux chifres, sur une même note, marquent le changement d’un doigt à un autre: avec la difference, que, le chifre le plus considerable étant posé le premier, indique, qu’il faut monter en suite; et que le moindre, au contraire, sert à descendre.” Ibid., 31. Marpurg re peats Couperin’s wording almost verba tim in his Anleitung, introduction, chap. 7; trans. in Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:79. 65. Couperin, L’art de toucher, premier prélude, mm. 1–4. This piece is one of eight preludes that Couperin com posed as teaching pieces. 66. “Dans le genre de musique har monieux & lié, il est bon de s’accoutumer à substituer un doigt à la place d’un autre sans relever la touche; cette manière donne des facilités pour l’exécution & prolonge la durée des sons.” Rousseau, Dictionnaire de musique, s.v. “Doigter.”

172


67. Bach, Essay, 72. 68. Hartong, Clavier-Anweisung, §27; quoted and trans. in Lister, “Traditions,” 222. 69. “Mais si le jeu brillant a ses defauts, le jeu coulant a aussi les siens, qui sont aisez à remarquer dans ceux à qui l’affectation fait couler leur jeu avec beaucoup de gehenne. Car ils font de si grandes contortions de mains & de doigts; ils les élevent les uns sur les autres avec tant d’excez, en les serrant extraordi nairement, que cela dégoute & fait pitié. . . . Ainsi tout ce qu’on en peut dire est qu’en effect leur jeu est si fort coulé qu’il ressemble plûtost à un jeu de viele, où à force de couler le jeu n’a point de mouve ment, qu’à un veritable jeu de clavessin.” Le Gallois, Lettre, 79. See also Fuller, “French Harpsichord Playing in the Sev enteenth Century after Le Gallois.” 70. “Wo die Noten / wie alhier / zusammen gezogen seind / is solches eine besondre art / gleich wie die Violis ten mit dem Bogen schleiffen zu machen pflegen. Wie dann solche Manier bey furnehmen Violisten Deutscher Nation / nicht ungebreuchlich / gibt auch auf gelindschlägigen Orgeln / Regalen / Clavicymbaln und Instrumenten / einen recht liebilichen und anmutigen con centum, derentwegen ich dann solche Manier mir selbsten gelieben lassen / und angeiwehnet.” Scheidt, Tabulatura nova (1624); trans. in Paul Kenyon, “‘Imitatio Violistica’ in Scheidt’s ‘Tabulatura nova,’” 45. 71. “Une liaison qui embrasse deux notes differentes . . . marque qu’il ne faut lever le doigt de dessus la première qu’après avoir touché la seconde.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, “Table des agréments.”

72. “Car le lever d’un doigt & le toucher d’un autre doivent être executés dans le même moment.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 17. 73. “Un demi-circle qui embrasse deux notes affises sur différens degrés, signifie qu’il faut couler ces notes. Couler c’est ne relever le doigt de la note précé dent que l’on n’ait touché la suivante.” Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, 34. 74. Bach, Essay, 154. 75. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 344. 76. Ibid., 345. 77. “Une liaison qui embrasse plu sieurs notes, marque qu’il faut les tenir toutes d’un bout de la liaison à l’autre.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, “Table des agréments.” 78. “La regle générale est qu’on doit garder toutes les notes que la liaison embrasse, jusqu’à-ce qu’il soit temps de lacher la dernière; mais il y a des occa sions où il ne faut pas les garder toutes. Quand la première note & la dernière sont longues; c’est-à-dire rondes ou blanches, & que les autres sont brèves, c’est-à-dire croches ou doubles croches . . . on ne doit garder que la première & la dernière, & lâcher toutes les autres. “Mais sans examiner si la première & la dernière sont plus longues que les autres, il suffit que les notes que la liaison embrasse marchent par degrez successifs pour obliger à ne garder que la première & la dernière. Ainsi dans les exemples qui suivent, quoi-que les notes soient toutes d’une même valeur, on ne doit garder que la première & la dernière, de celles que la liaison embrasse, parce qu’elles marchent par degrez qui se succèdent, & qui ne sont point interrompus.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, “De la liaison,” 13.

Notes to pages 90–93 79. “On touche toutes les notes que la liaison embrasse, & ce qui est l’effet de la liaison; on garde toutes ces notes après les avoir touchées, quoi-que leur valeur soit expirée, & on ne les lâche que lors qu’il est temps de lâcher la dernière. “Pour expliquer cecy plus clairement, je suppose quatre notes enchaînées par une liaison ABCD, cy’dessus, selon l’ordre où elles sont rangées. A, se doit toucher la première; B, la seconde; C, la troisième, & D, la quatrième. Mais en touchant B, il ne faut point lâcher A, ni en touchant C, lâcher B, ny A, ny en touchant D, lâcher ny A ny B, ny C. On doit garder toutes ces notes, & ne les quitter que lorsqu’il est temps de lâcher la dernière; c’est-à-dire, lorsque D, a achevé sa valeur. Alors on les lâche toutes à la fois, quoi-qu’on les ait tou chées l’une après l’autre. . . . “La liaison s’employe particulièrement dans les préludes, & quelque fois aussi dans les pièces, mais plus rarement.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, “De la liai son,” 13–14. 80. David Ledbetter, “Style brisé,” Grove Music Online. 81. Diruta, Il Transilvano, “Manner of Playing Quilled Instruments Musical ly,” trans. in Crozier, “The Principles of Keyboard Technique in Il Transilvano,” 22. Diruta refers to an early Italian harp sichord with a crisp, robust, and often pungent tone that decays quite quickly. This is partially due to the fulcrum points of the key levers being forward of center, and as a result, the plucking point feels strong and creates a rapid key action. 82. “Li cominciamenti delle toccate sieno fatte adagio, et arpeggiando e cosi nelle ligature o vero durezze, come anche

173

nel mezzo del opera si batteranno in sieme, per non lasciar voto l’istromento; il qual battimento ripiglierassi a beneplacito di chi suona.” Frescobaldi, Toccate e partite d’intavolatura di cimablo . . . libro primo (Rome, 1615; rev. and enl. 1616). Giovanni Scipione quotes Frescobaldi almost verba tim in his Intavolatura di cembalo et organo (Perugia, 1650). Lorenzo Penna’s Li primi albori musicali (Bologna, 1672), book 3, chap. 20, no. 19, issues the same advice. 83. Cited in David Fallows, “Adagio,” Grove Music Online. 84. The acciaccatura is sometimes thought of as a “crushed note.” This art of placing nonharmonic notes in an arpeggio is discussed in various trea tises, including C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch and Marpurg’s Die Kunst das Clavier zu spielen, to name a few. C. P. E. Bach indicates this with an upward diagonal stroke through the stem between the chord’s harmonic notes. The Italian theorists Francesco Gasparini (1708) and Francesco Geminiani (1749) use the term acciaccatura to imply the touching dissonant notes, specifically, below the harmonic notes in an arpeggio. For fur ther reading, see Williams, “The Harp sichord Acciaccatura.” 85. In Saint-Lambert’s Les principes du clavecin, “De l’harpégé,” 54–56, he suggests a manner of filling out the har mony: “dans lequel on emprunte d’autres notes que celles de l’accord pour luy don ner plus d’agrément” (in which one lends other notes to those of the harmony to give it more embellishment). 86. I see this habit most often among advanced piano players, most probably because so much of the Romantic and later piano repertory demands large chordal textures that require the fingers

174


to be spread out or ready to play another chord. Years of piano exercises that call for the hands to play chords and then lift each finger one at a time (for the pur pose of developing independent finger strength) may also be a leading cause. Only when absolutely necessary should the fingers be outstretched when playing harpsichord. This is discussed further in the section entitled “Contraction of the Hand” in chapter 4. 87. Roger North, quoted in Anthony Newman, Bach and The Baroque (New York: Pendragon Press, 1985), 87. 88. “Cette pièce doit étre jouée avec beaucoup de goût et de sentiment: pour en donner l’intelligence, j’ay marqué des petites Croix qui signifient qu’il faut que les accords de la Basse, passent avant ceux du dessus; et à tous ceux où ils ne s’en trouvera point, le dessus doit passer avant la Basse.” Forqueray, Pièces de clavecin (1747). 89. “Dans toutes les Pieces d’éxécution gracieuse ou tendre, on doit toucher la note de basse, avant celle de dessus, sans alterer la mesure.” Foucquet, Pièces de clavecin, second livre, preface. 90. Jean Rousseau, Traité de la viole (Paris, 1687; facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1975), 74–75; trans. in Beverly Scheibert, Jean-Henry D’Anglebert and the Seventeenth-Century Clavecin School (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986), 105. 91. For a more detailed discussion of how ornaments are to be performed, I refer readers to begin with the articles by Kenneth Kreitner (Middle Ages and Renaissance), Louis Jambou (Spain, 1500–1800), Desmond Hunter (Eng lish virginalists), Stewart A. Carter

(Italy, 1600–1650), Peter Walls (Italy, 1650–1750), Kah-Ming Ng (English and French Baroque), David Schulenberg (German Baroque), and Clive Brown (late eighteenth and nineteenth centu ries); “Ornamentation,” Grove Music Online. In addition to numerous pri mary sources that offer ornamentation tables or chapters dedicated to their application, a great wealth of knowledge may be gleaned from the manuscripts themselves. Ornaments may appear as musical markings attached above or next to a note and as written-out notes within the music, and as is often the case, they may not be notated at all, in which case they are left to the discretion of the per former. 92. Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 1:15. 93. Bach, Essay, 101. 94. Although the fingers do not actu ally touch the strings, which are inside the instrument, I use this expression to encourage harpsichordists when touch ing each key to find the point at which the plectra are prepared to pluck the strings. 95. Bach, Essay, 84. 96. Ibid., 83. 97. Ibid., 88. 98. Quantz, On Playing the Flute, 95. 99. Among the French composers of harpsichord pieces writing in the Baroque, there is a difference of opinion concerning the rhythmic application of the port de voix. Saint-Lambert favors playing the ornament before the beat, taking the value from the preceding note. Although in general there seems to be a preference for playing ports de voix on the beat in the seventeenth century and before the beat for later compos ers, there is evidence for both methods.

Notes to pages 96–98 Some composers, such as Lebègue, even suggest both ways of playing (see his Premier livre de clavecin, Sarabande grave in F Major, mm. 7–8, and Sarabande grave in G Minor, m. 3). D’Anglebert’s ornament table gives on-the-beat ex amples, but there are several instances of written-out ports de voix in his pieces that are clearly meant to be played before the beat. In chapter 28, “Concerning the Aspiration,” Saint-Lambert states that the manner of playing this and other ornaments changes from piece to piece depending on the musical context: “But what is annoying about all this is that the reader will never thoroughly understand how all these agréments are to be executed, because it is impossible to explain them clearly in writing, since the manner of executing them changes according to the pieces in which they are used.” Trans. in Harris-Warrick, Principles of the Harpsichord, 99. 100. “Ce trait de plume tiré sur les Notes dans l’expression du Port de Voix, est une liaison qui signifie qu’il faut couler ces Notes-là; c’est-à-dire qu’il ne faut pas lever les doigts en les touchant, mais attendre que la seconde des deux notes soit touchée, pour lever le doigt qui a touché la première.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, “De Port de Voix,” 49. 101. “Dans les pièces qu’on étudie, on peut en faire aux endroits même où ils ne sont pas marquez; retrancher ceux qui y sont, si l’on trouve qu’ils ne siént pas bien à la pièce, & y en ajoûter d’autres à son gré. On peut même, si l’on veut, negliger tous ceux que j’ay enseignez icy (excepté seulement les essentiels) & en composer soy-même de nouveaux selon son goût, si l’on se croit capable d’en inventer de plus beaux;

175

mais il faut cependant prendre garde à ne se pas donner trop de liberté sur ce sujet, sur-tout dans le commencement; de peur qu’en voulant rafiner trop tôt, on ne gâtât ce qu’on voudroit embel lir: C’est pourquoy il est bon, & même necessaire, de s’assujettir d’abord aux agrémens des autres, & de ne les faire qu’aux endroits où ils sont marquez dans les piéces, jusqu’à-ce qu’on soit assez fort, pour juger sans se tromper, que d’autres n’y seront point de mal. On doit être persuadé, quelque bon goût qu’on ait pour le clavecin, que si l’on n’a que six mois d’exercice, on ne peut pas si bien discerner ce qui donne de la grace au jeu, que ceux qui ont pratiqué le métier pendant vingt ou trente ans, & qui on acquis par cette longue experi ence, une connoissance plus sûre de ce qui peut embellir leur art. On suivra donc, si l’on m’en croit, les agrémens que j’enseigne en ce livre, & que je propose avec d’autant plus de liberté, que j’ay peu d’interêt qu’on les suive, y en ayant tres peu qui soient de moy; & tout le reste étant des plus célébres maîtres que notre siécle ait produit, ce qui seul peut suffire à leur donner de l’authorité.” Saint-Lam bert, Les principes, “De l’aspiration,” 57. 102. Diruta, Il Transilvano, “Modo di sonar musicalmente nell’istrumento da penna,” ff. 5v–6r. Diruta gives examples of various ornaments. His accenti cor respond to the modern changing note or “escape note.” He explains that the tremolo is played with the upper auxil iary note and takes up half the value of the principal note. 103. Bach, Essay, 101–2. 104. “Le tremblement coulé ou pré paré, quand on reste un peu de tems sur la note accidentelle avant que de faire le

176


battement, ou quand on commence par un battement lent & que l’on augmente de vitesse par une espèce de gradation.” Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, 68. 105. Bacilly, L’art de bien chanter, 178–79; trans. in Neumann, Ornamentation in Baroque and Post-Baroque Music, 248–49. 106. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 29. 107. Ibid., 20. 108. Johann Gottfried Buchholtz, Unterricht, 15–16. 109. “Che le parti della cantilena siano cantabile: cioè che cantano bene.” Zarlino, Le istitutioni harmoniche; quoted and trans. in David Fallows, “Cantabile,” Grove Music Online. 110. Domenico Scarlatti’s sonatas that bear the musical marking cantabile are K144, K490, K544, and K546. Six others have musical instructions that include cantabile along with other Italian musical terms, such as K170 (Andante moderato e cantabile), K176 (Cantabile andante), K208 (Andante e cantabile), K277 (Cantable andantino), K384 (Cantabile andante), K507 (Andantino cantabile). 111. “Auffrichtige Anleitung wor mit denen Liebhabern des Clavires, besonders aber denen Lehrbegierigen eine deütliche Art gezeiget wird . . . am allermeisten aber eine cantabile Art im Spielen zu erlangen.” Trans. in Derr, “The Two-Part Inventions: Bach’s Com posers’ Vademecom”; trans. also in David and Mendel, eds., The Bach Reader, 86. 112. “On doit consulter la methode de chanter, par ce qu’en ces rencontres l’orgue doit imiter la voix.” Nivers, Livre d’orgue I, preface. 113. Bach, Essay, 39. 114. Ibid., 151. 115. Manfredini, Regole armoniche, 1:28.

116. It is especially fun to sing dif ferent lines of multivoiced fugues or other imitative pieces while playing the other polyphonic lines. Aside from sheer enjoyment, it is a playful challenge that aids in coordination and the ability to concentrate on each line in a horizontal manner, as opposed to only hearing them together as they sound vertically with their blended harmonies. 117. “Das vermaledeyte Hacken, welches auch ausgezeichneten Clavier spielern eigen ist, nicht ausstehen kann, indem es weder das Ohr noch das Ge müth ergötzt.” Quoted in Deutsch, Schubert, 299; trans. in Blom, Schubert, 436. 118. Czerny, Memoirs; quoted in Jen kins, “Legato Touch,” 226; trans. from Sumner, The Pianoforte, 152. 119. Méreaux, Les clavecinistes de 1637 à 1790, “Clementi,” 75; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 228. 120. Anderson, ed., Letters of Mozart and His Family, 3:1181. 121. Ibid., Mozart to his father, 7 June 1783, 3:1267–68. 122. Berger, “Erläuterung eines Mo zartschen urtheils über Muzio Cle menti,” 468; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 228. 123. Clementi, Introduction to the Art of Playing on the Piano Forte, 8–9. 124. Knecht, Kleine theoretische Klavierschule für die ersten Anfänger, pt. 3, 12; quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 266. 125. Sulzer, Allgemeine Theorie der schöne Künste in Einzeln (1771), “Vor trag,” 1253; quoted and trans. in Jen kins, “Legato Touch,” 266. See Sulzer, Blankenburg, Schulz, and Kirnberger, Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste in Einzeln, and Baker and Christensen,

Notes to pages 103–105 Aesthetics and the Art of Musical Composition in the German Enlightenment. 126. Marpurg in Der critische Musicus an Der Spree, 337, commenting on Louis Bollioud de Mermet’s essay De la corruption du goût dans la musique françoise (Lyons, 1746); quoted and trans. in Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:12. 127. Wolf, Unterricht; trans. in Delft, “Schnellen,” in Hogwood, The Keyboard in Baroque Europe, 187–97; Hogwood, “A Supplement,” ibid., 145. 128. Hogwood, “A Supplement,” 146. 129. The French term cadence may imply a turn or trill (see Jean Rousseau, Méthode, 85–86). It is in this context that Saint-Lambert uses the word in his trea tise Les principes du clavecin, 47, 48, 53. It may also signify a chord progression at the end of a phrase or a piece, as well as a falling passage or a scale. Couperin uses cadence in this context in L’art de toucher, “progrès de septièmes,” 34. He also says, “Je trouve que nous confondons la mesure avec ce qu’on nomme cadence, ou mouvement. Mesure définit la quantité, et l’égalité des temps, et cadence, est proprement l’esprit, et l’âme qu’il y faut joindre.” (I find that we confuse measure with what is called cadence or move ment. Measure defines the quantity and the equality of the beats: and cadence is properly speaking the spirit or the soul which should be joined to it.) Couperin, L’art de toucher, 40. It may also imply a rate or rhythm. (Random House FrenchEnglish English-French Dictionary, 1st ed., s.v. “Cadence”). 130. “Car quand on les examine de bien prés on trouve que leurs cadences sont souvent tres-pressées, & par con sequent tres-rudes, estant produites par un trop grand feu: qu’elles sont battuës

177

inégalement, & mal soûtenuës; ce qui les prive de l’agrement le plus beau qu’il y ait dans le jeu; puis qu’il n’y a rien qui l’embellisse plus, ny qui le fasse paroître d’avantage que de battre également & de bien soûtenir: qu’ils ont un mouvement pressé ou alteré, qui fait que leur mesure n’est pas juste, parce qu’il la rend inégale, & ne tient point les temps qui sont neces saires dans la dernière justesse: que leur jeu est souvent embroüillé, & passe par dessus quantité de touches, qu’on n’entend qu’à demy, quelquefois point du tout; à cause qu’ils les passent trop viste; ou qu’ils n’appuyent pas assez fort pour les faire entendre, ou qu’ils frappent les touches au lieu de les couler. Enfin on n’observe dans leur jeu qu’une perpetuele cadence, qui empêche qu’on n’entende distinctement le chant de la pièce: Et ils y font continuelement des passages, par ticulierement d’une touché à son octave; ce que Chambonnières, appelloit avec raison chaudronnier. Voila les défauts où sont ordinairement sujets ceux qui suiv ent cette maniere brillante de joüer, pour ébloüir le monde, à qui l’ignorance ne permet pas de les reconnoître. Il y a trespeu de Maîtres qui ne tombent dans ces défauts.” Le Gallois, Lettre, 76–78. 131. “Les sons du clavecin étant décidés, chacun en particulier; et par consequent ne pouvant être enflés ny diminués: il a paru presqu’insoutenable, jusqu’à present, qu’on put donner de l’âme à cet instrument. . . . L’impressionsensible que je propose, doit son éffet à la cessation; et à la suspension des sons, faites à propos; et selon les caractères qu’exigent les chants des préludes, et des pièces. Ces deux agrémens par leur opposition, laissent l’oreille indétermi née: en sorte que dans les occasions ou

178


les instruments à archet enflent leurs sons, la suspension de ceux du clavecin semble, (par un effect contraire) retracer à l’oreille la chose souhaité.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 15–16. 132. “Quant à l’effet-sensible de l’aspi ration il faut détacher la note, sur laquelle elle est posée, moins vivement dans les choses tendres, et lentes, que dans celles qui sont légères, et rapides.” Ibid., 18. 133. “A L’égard de la suspension! elle n’est gueres usitée que dans les morceaux tendres, et lents. Le silence qui précède la note sur laquelle elle est marquée doit être réglé par le goût de la personne qui exécute.” Ibid., 18. 134. Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 57. 135. Ibid., 56; D’Anglebert, Pièces de clavecin, “Table des agréments.” 136. “La pratique de ce détaché est fort necessaire dans de certaine pieces d’un mouvement gay, particuliérement lorsque la note qui precede le tremble ment est un degré plus haut, & celle qui precede le pincé un degré plus bas. Il n’a pas mauvaise grâce non plus en d’autres pieces & en d’autres occasions; mais c’est au bon goût à juger des endroits où il faut l’employer.” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, 56. 137. Marie-Dominique-Joseph En gramelle, Tonotechnie ou L’art de noter les cylindres, and Dom Bédos de Celles (Benedictine monk), L’art du facteur d’orgues (quatrième partie), quoted and trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 245. See also Hans-Peter Schmitz and Arthur W. J. G. Ord-Hume, “Engramelle, MarieDominique-Joseph,” Grove Music Online. 138. Ludger Lohman, in his entry “Touch” in Kipnis, Harpsichord and Clavichord: An Encyclopedia, says, “For the sake of general sound quality, ex

tremely slow and extremely fast key releases should be avoided in order to minimize quill or damper noises.” This is sound advice as a generalization, but there are numerous instances in which these extreme touches (both in “contact” and “release”) are necessary for the sake of drama and musical expression. 139. “Halte man sich bey einem solchen accentuirten Tone einem Mo ment länger auf, als es seine stimmte Zeitdauer erfordert.” Koch, Musikali sches Lexicon, s.v. “Accent,” 49. 140. In continuo playing, there are numerous ways to emphasize a note or a chord: playing more notes to make chords fuller, changing tessitura, playing a different inversion, adding agogics, etc. However, my book focuses on solo play ing, not playing from a figured bass, al though the issues pertaining to beautiful harpsichord technique apply to continuo playing as well. 141. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 339. 142. Bach, Essay, 157. Bach differen tiates notes that are “fully held” with those that are “connected” (Die Noten, welche weder, gestossen noch geschlieff noch ausgehalten). 143. Ibid., 129. 144. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 356. Türk is referring here to principal notes, not grace notes, the lengths of which vary depending on different criteria. 145. Rellstab, Anleitung, pt. 3, xii; trans. in Jenkins, “Legato Touch,” 253. 146. “Es mus jede Note genau so lange gehalten werden, als ihr werth dauert, es müsste denn sein, das andere Umstände es verhinderten.” Wolf, Unterricht, 27. 147. Inégal (French, literally “uneven”) is a term used primarily in French music

Notes to pages 109–112 from the mid-seventeenth through late eighteenth centuries. Pairs of notes of identical time duration, such as eighth notes, are played unequally. As a con sequence, dotted notes are played overdotted, sometimes with a rest between the dotted note and the shorter note to follow, even though no rest is notated. There are instances in which inégal is not to be used. The most obvious is when the word égal (equal) is given. Inégalité is pre cluded if the tempo is too fast or if several notes are under a slur. It is unlikely that passages of an arpeggiated nature, whose purpose is harmonic rather than melodic or improvisatory in nature, such as in un measured preludes, are also to be played as written or at least without a noticeable inequality. (Expressive playing and rubato do not mean the same thing as inégal.) Elsewhere, it applies only to the notes that divide the main pulse or beat in two. For example, if the pulse of a 43 slow movement is measured in quarter notes, the eighth notes are played inégal, unless the music has been significally affected by Italian practice. Although the term inégales refers specifically to performance practices of the French Baroque, uneven playing of equally notated notes and rhythmic alteration is outlined in French, Italian, and Spanish sources of the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Caccini, in his Nuove Musiche of 1601, discusses ways of singing a long-short dotted pattern to an otherwise undotted passage. Frescobaldi, in his preface to his Toccatas of 1614, talks about playing short-long patterns (lombardic rhythms) to sixteenth notes (combined with eighth notes) in certain sections. For more detailed information, see David Fuller, “Notes inégales,” Grove Music Online.

179

148. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering; trans. in Soderlund, How Did They Play? 63. In a slightly later edition, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord (1760), 21–25, he discusses the tone of the harpsichord in relationship to the holding of notes for their notated duration. He professes that fugues are unsuitable for the harp sichord because of the quickly decaying string vibration; this, he claims, causes an audible confusion of the separate voices, making them sound as though they are joined rather than indepen dent polyphonic lines. Despite his admiration for legato playing as a basic principle, he discusses different types of articulation in his section “On the different touches.” 149. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, 26. 150. “Et à ne point rester sur des notes dont la valeur soit finie.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 61. 151. “La douceur du toucher depend encore de tenir ses doigts le plus près des touches qu’il est possible.” Ibid., 7. 4. Fingering 1. Sancta Maria; trans. in Howell and Hultberg, Art of Playing the Fantasia, 104. 2. Bedbrook, Keyboard Music from the Middle Ages to the Beginnings of the Baroque, 139. 3. Bach, Essay, intro., §1. 4. Marpurg, “The Practical Principles of Keyboard Playing, or Instructions of Fingering,” in Hays, “Marpurg’s Anleitung,” 2:2–3. 5. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 129. 6. “C’est faire marcher d’une manière convenable & régulière les

180


doigts sur quelque instrument, & principalement sur l’orgue ou le clavecin, pour en jouer le plus facilement & le plus nettement qu’il est possible. . . . Sur l’orgue ou le clavecin, le doigter est autre chose. Il y a deux manières de jouer sur ces instrumens; savoir, l’accompagnement & les pièces. Pour jouer des pièces on a égard à la facilité de l’exécution & à la bonne grace de la main. . . . De ne point porter successivement le même doigt sur deux touches consecutives, mais d’employer tous les doigts de chaque main.” Rousseau, Dictionnaire de musique, s.v. “Doigter.” 7. A muselar is a type of virginal of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, in which the keyboard is placed to the right, so that the strings are plucked in the middle of their sounding length. This results in putting the left-hand action in the center of the very resonant soundboard, which sometimes produces clicking sounds. The mechanical motion of the vibrating string interferes with the ability of the plectrum to connect again, making repetition of the bass notes problematic. The unique timbre of the muselar, with its pipe-like flute tones in the treble and its full, slow speaking quality in the bass, is enhanced by the deep chest-like soundbox. Because of the instrument’s various idiosyncrasies of tone quality, articulation, and damping, it may be a challenge to play very fast or complicated repertoire on it. It is more idiomatic for pieces with simple textures, such as those with a melody and undecorated bassline. 8. Most harpsichords of the late sixteenth to early seventeenth

centuries had one manual with a range of four octaves. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, builders often made harpsichords with a wider range (by as much as an octave or more) and with two manuals. 9. “Mi restarebbe à dirvi qual siano le dita buone, e cattive, poiche de dita favelliamo, somigliantemente delle note buone, e cattive per esser cosa necessaria ad organisti, come anco à sonatori di balli.” Diruta, Il Transilvano (facsimile, 1983), f. 6. Just a few paragraphs earlier in his treatise, Diruta discusses some of the different keyboard techniques required for organists and harpsichordists, who tend to play more dance music or pieces of lighter character and dance-like rhythms. See his section “Perche cause il Sonatori de Balli non riescono nel sonar Organi” (The Reason Why Dance Players Do Not Succeed at the Organ), f. 5. 10. “Avuertite però che il dito terzo, ò medio hà da fare, tutte le note cattive tanto ascendendo, quanto descendendo; & anco le note, cattive che saltano. Oltra che questo è il più affaticato dito, poiche non si può far cosa alcuna, che non s’adopri, ascendendo, descendendo, e saltando.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, “Come il dito di mezzo è il più affaticaro de gl’altri,” f. 6. 11. “Questo è quello, che dicevo nel principio, d’un’huomo ben pro portionate, e poi non staispedito di lingua, in guisa, che non può esprimere il suo concetto; la lingua dell’organo come sapete sono le mani, se queste non bene si reggono, defetta non poco. L’istesso auerrà ad’un principiante, che suoni cose studiate, & imparate scon ciamente, che se vorrà sonare regolar mente gli farà necessario lasciar tutto

Notes to pages 115–121 l’imparato, & pigliare le primi principi secondo questa regola, come anco ad uno, che non habbi principio, che osser vando queste mie regole, in brevissimo tempo diverrà perfetto.” (This is what I said in the beginning about someone who is highly educated but not fluent in language, so that he cannot express his idea effectively. The language of the organ, as you know, is the hands. If these are not well controlled, one lacks a great deal. The same will happen to a beginner who plays messily in an unor ganized manner all that he has studied and learned. If one wants to play by the rules, one must relinquish all that he has learned thus far and adhere to the first principles of this method. Also, for someone who has no foundation whatsoever, if he follows my method, he will quickly reach perfection.) Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 36. 12. “Che le cattive danno ben spesso gratia alle buone; poi che nel diminu ire più s’attende à far passaggi vaghi, e legiadri, che all’osservanza, che voi dite.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 36. Other sixteenth-century sources also mention that rules are different for diminutions. See, for example, Sylvestro di Ganassi, Opera intitulata Fontegara (Venice, 1535) or Diego Ortiz, Tratado de glosas (Rome, 1553). 13. Cited in Mark Lindley and Glyn Jenkins, “Fingering,” in New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 2nd ed. 14. Buchner’s Fundament Buch (Fundamentum) is dated 1551, over a decade after his death. It was probably written closer to 1520. 15. Diruta, Il Transilvano, ff. 6–7; trans. in Soehnlein, “Diruta on the Art of Keyboard-Playing,” 1:134.

181

16. “E perché trovò con longa espe rienza una difficultà, e questa circa il por tar le dita della mano destra, che quando suonano, & vanno ascendendo, tengono disteso, & sforzato il dito secondo, & anco il dito grosso sotto la mano sforzato, & il quinto dito troppo ritirato, i quali stando in tal guisa, e dell’una, e dell’altra mano, vengano à indurire, e tirare li nervi in modo, che l’altre dita non possono caminare con agilità. E di qui è, che molti organisti havendo habituata la mano à quei deffetti da principio, rare volte il lor sonare fa quell’armonia, che doveria; ha dove se hàvessero accommodate a la mano leggera, e molle, gli verebbe ben fatto ogni cosa, per difficile, che fosse.” Diruta, Il Transilvano, f. 9v. 17. Bermudo, Declaración de instrumentos musicales (Osuna, 1555); Venegas de Henestrosa et al., Libro de cifra nueva para tecla, harpa y vihuela (Alcalá de Henares, 1557); Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasía (Valladolid, 1565); Cabezón, Obras de música para tecla, harpa y vihuela (Madrid, 1578), preface; Correa, Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica, y theorica de organo intitulado facultad orgánica (Alcalá, 1626); Nassarre, Esquela (Zaragoza, 1723). Arauxo’s treatise, Facultad orgánica, is geared to the inter mediate or advanced player. The works (obras) of Cabezón are mostly editions of his father Antonio’s compositions. Hernando posthumously published them and added a preface, intended for beginners. 18. Sancta Maria; trans. in Howell and Hultberg, Art of Playing the Fantasia, 98. 19. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasía, f. 40v. See Howell and Hultberg, Art of Playing the Fantasia, 100–115.

182


20. Corrette, Les amusemens du Parnasse (1984), “Autre maniere de doigter l’octave,” f. E and “Suite en Ut pour les Commençans,” 1. 21. “Quand je commençay à appren dre, les maistres disoient pour maxime, que l’on ne joüoit jamais du poulse de la main droite; mais j’ay recognu depuis, que si on auoit autant de mains qu’en auoit Briarée, on les emploiroit toutes, quoy qu’il n’y ait pas tant de touches au clavier.” Denis, Traité de l’accord de l’éspinette, 37. Briareus was a Greek mythological giant who had fifty heads and one hundred arms. 22. Couperin, L’art de toucher, 29. 23. “Mais comme il n’a encor paru jusqu’ici nulle mèthode de clavecin.” L’art de toucher (1716 ed.), in his section “Evolutions.” See The Art of Playing the Harpsichord, ed. Halford, 42n. 24. Couperin, L’art de toucher, “Cette manière ancienne n’auoit nulle liaison. Celle qui suit est la vraye.” (The old style did not allow for legato playing. The fol lowing manner is the true way.) 25. “Je suis persuadé que peu de personnes dans Paris restent entêtés des vieilles maxims; Paris étant le centre du bon. Mais comme il m’a encore paru jusqu’ici nulle méthode qui traitte du bien-jouer, et que cellecy pourra passer ailleurs, j’ay cru n’y devoir rien omettre.” Couperin, L’art de toucher, 29. 26. Ibid., préludes 1 and 5. 27. See “The Buildings,” Priscilla Bunbury’s Virginal Book, mm. 11–13; cited in Rodgers, “Early Keyboard Fin gering, ca. 1520–1620,” 141. 28. Hartong, Clavier-Anweisung; quoted and trans. in Lister, “P. C. Hartong and Transition in Eighteenth-

Century Keyboard Instruction,” 41. See also Lister, “Traditions,” 239. 29. “Car si l’on examine tout ce qu’il y a d’habiles maîtres à Paris, on trouvera que céux d’entre eux qui se distinguent le plus par la beauté du touché, & la sûreté de l’éxécution, sont ceux qui se servent également bien de tous leurs doitgs [sic].” Saint-Lambert, Les principes, “Re marques,” 64–65. This comment appears in a discussion about practicing trills with every finger combination. Chapters 19–21 are more conservative: his section “Re marques” is more inclusive of the thumb. 30. Ibid., 42. 31. “The thumb of the right hand should be used only on certain occasions of which we shall speak later. When the performer is obliged to use his thumb because the hand is small, it makes it harder for him to acquire good habits, which are as important for performance as knowledge,” Rameau, Traité de l’harmonie (1722); trans. in Gossett, Treatise on Harmony, 385–87. 32. A roulement is when the player plays adjacent notes rapidly in a passage, as opposed to notes that are disjointed, which he calls a batterie. In essence, it is a scale-like passage played quickly. 33. “Pour continuer un roulement plus étendu que celui de la Leçon, il n’y a qu’à s’accoutumer à passer le 1. pardessous tel autre doigt que l’on veut, & à passer l’un de ces autres doigts par-dessus le 1. Cette manière est excel lente, sur-tout quand il s’y rencontre des dièzes ou des bemols; elle facilite même encore la pratique de certaines batteries.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 18. 34. Bach, Essay, 42–43. 35. Ibid., 42. 36. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 31.

Notes to pages 126–131 37. Sancta Maria, Arte de tañer fantasía, f. 39r; trans. in Howell and Hultberg, Art of Playing the Fantasia, 100. 38. Bach, Essay, 35. 39. Ibid., 57. 40. Türk gives an example very simi lar to this one, in which he provides the “right” and “wrong” way to finger such a passage at the octave. The example he gives is an octave on F sharp in the left hand, to which he shows the little finger and index finger as the correct manner, but the little finger and thumb as the incorrect manner. He does this for the right hand, too. Türk, Klavierschule, 173. 41. Bach, Essay, 21, 41. 42. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, 64. 43. Türk, School of Clavier Playing, 131. 44. Ibid., 133. In addition to his advice about the thumb on raised keys, Türk frowns upon its use in certain ornaments, such as for the inverted mordent. He writes, “It demands above all rapidity, strength, and elasticity of fingers from the players, if it is to realize its purpose—to make certain passages even more spirited (brilliant)—in a fit ting manner. The thumb and little finger should not be used to play the inverted mordent for this reason, or only in cases of direst need.” See Türk’s section “Concerning the Inverted Mordent [Schneller],” 244. 45. “Le petit doigt étant plus proche du clavier que le pouce, on peut par con séquent s’en servir sur les petites touches avec plus de commodité que du pouce. Mais comme il faut toûjours appuyer sur celles-ci avec un peu plus de force que sur les grandes, & que le petit doigt est le plus foible de tous, c’est aussi la raison pourquoi il ne faut pas l’employer sur

183

les feintes tant que l’on peut faire le pas sage plus commodément avec les autres doigts. Mais dès que ce cas n’existe plus, on est libre de porter le petit doigt sur les feintes, soit en parcourant les tons par dégrés successifs, soit dans des batteries, ou des Tenuës, à une ou deux parties, par dégrés conjoints & disjoints &c.” Marpurg, Principes du clavecin, 73. 46. Miller, Institutes of Music, chap. 9, “Rules for Fingering,” 20. 47. Matthew Camidge, Instructions for the Piano-forte or Harpsichord (Lon don: Longman and Broderip, 1795), ix. 48. “Aunque lo que es quintas, y sex tas, quando la voz de arriba estuviere en la tecla negra, es mas natural ponerlas con el indice, y el pequeño, por escusar el movimiento violento al assentar la mano en dichas posturas.” Nassarre, Esquela, pt. 2, 459–60. The preceding paragraphs discuss which fingers to use for playing all the intervals. The following para graphs continue with this discourse but focus on fingering passages in various situations, especially those with orna ments or diminutions. 49. “Evitez, autant que cela se peut, de toucher un dièze & un bemol du 1. ou du 5. surtout dans les roulemens; & faites ensorte que le 1. se trouve pour lors sur la touche qui précède ce dièze ou ce bemol; parce que cela peut faciliter votre éxécution.” Rameau, Pièces de clavecin, 18. 50. Rameau, Dissertation, “Of Oc taves”; trans. in Hayes, Dissertation on the Different Methods of Accompaniment, 86 (modified). 51. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, “Of Contracting the Fin gers,” 9–10. 52. Ibid., “Of Improving the Rules,” 19.

184


53. “A mesure que la main s’ouvre, les doigts perdent de leur rondeur; mais quand on les laisse agir de leur propre mouvement, ils déterminent pour lors la main à s’y prêter dans les intervalles plus ou moins grands qu’ils embrassent, & tout marche à l’aise; le 5 même s’y prête à son tour, en s’avançant moins sur sa touche.” Rameau, Code de musique pratique, chap. 2, “De la position de la main sur le clavecin ou l’orgue,” 11; quoted in Méthodes & traités, 2:50.

54. Miller, Institutes of Music, 22. 55. Pasquali, The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, “Of Improving the Rules,” 20. 56. Jacques Ogg, harpsichordist, at a public master class at Indiana University Jacobs School of Music, Bloomington, 25 February 2008. Conclusion 1. Forkel, Johann Sebastian Bach, 56.

Bibliography

Barthélemon, François-Hippolyte. A New Tutor for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte Wherein the First Principles of Music Are Fully Explained with an Easy Method for Fingering in a Set of Progressive Lessons in Which Is Introduced Two Easy Methods for Tuning. London, 1800. Bemetzrieder, Anton. Leçons de clavecin et principes d’harmonie. Paris, 1771. Facsimile, New York: Broude Brothers, 1966. Bermudo, Juan. Declaración de instrumentos musicales. Osuna, 1555. Documenta musicologica, 11. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1957. Broderip, Robert. Plain and Easy Instructions for Young Performers on the Piano-forte or Harpsichord. London: Longman & Broderip, 1788. Brossard, Sébastien de. Dictionnaire de musique. Paris, 1703. Facsimile of 2nd ed. (1705), Hilversum: Frits Knuf, 1965. Buchholtz, Johann Gottfried. Unterricht für diejenigen weiche die Musik und das Clavier erlernen wollen. Hamburg, 1782. Buchner, Hans. Abschrifft M. Hansen von Constantz des wyt beriempten Or-

Primary Sources Anglebert, Jean Henry d’. Pièces de clavecin. Paris, 1689. Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel. Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen. 2 vols. Berlin: G. L. Winter, 1753 and 1762. Facsimile edited by Walter Niemann. Leipzig: C. F. Kahnt, 1906 and 1925. Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel, and Wolfgang Horn. 1994. Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen. Faksimile-Reprint der Ausgaben von Teil I, Berlin 1753 (mit den Ergänzungen der Auflage Leipzig 1787) und Teil II, Berlin 1762 (mit den Ergänzungen der Auflage Leipzig 1797). Kassel: Bärenreiter. ——— . Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard Instruments. Translated by William J. Mitchell. New York: W. W. Norton, 1949. Bach, Johann Christian, and FrancescoPasquale Ricci. Méthode ou recueil de connaissances élémentaires pour le piano forte ou clavecin. Paris, 1788. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1974. Bacilly, Bénigne de. L’art de bien chanter. Paris, 1679. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1974. 185

186

Bibliography

ganisten fundament buch sinen kinden verlossen. ca. 1520, 1551. Burney, Charles. An Account of the Musical Performances in Westminster Abbey . . . in Commemoration of Handel. London, 1785. Amsterdam: Fritz A. M. Knuf, 1964. ——— . The Present State of Music in Germany, the Netherlands, and United Provinces. 2 vols. London, 1775. Facsimile, New York: Broude Brothers, 1969. Cabezón, Hernando de. Obras de música para tecla, harpa y vihuela de Antonia de Cabezón, músico de cámara del rey Don Philippe, nuestro señor. Madrid, 1578. Edited by Felipe Pedrell and Higinio Anglés. Monumentos de la música española, 27. Barcelona: Instituto Español de Musicología, 1966. Clementi, Muzio. Introduction to the Art of Playing on the Piano Forte. London, 1801. Facsimile, New York: Da Capo Press, 1974. Correa de Arauxo, Francisco. Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica, y theorica de organo intitulado facultad organica. Alcalá, 1626. Translated by Macario Santiago Kastner. Barcelona: Instituto Español de Musicolgía, 1948. Corrette, Michel. Les amusemens du Parnasse: méthode courte et facile pour apprendre à toucher le clavecin avec les plus jolis airs a la mode. Paris, 1749. ——— . Les amusemens du Parnasse. Facsimile edited by Olivier Baumont. Paris: Éditions Henry Lemoine, 1984. Couperin, François. L’art de toucher le clavecin. Paris: Foucault, 1716 and 1717. Facsimile, New York: Broude Brothers, 1969.

——— . L’art de toucher le clavecin, premier livre. Translated and edited by Kenneth Gilbert. Paris: Heugel, 1972. ——— . L’art de toucher le clavecin = Die Kunst das Clavecin zu spielen = The art of playing the harpsichord. German translation by Anna Linde. English translation by Mevanwy Roberts. Leipzig: Breitkopf & Hartel, ca. 1933. ——— . The Art of Playing the Harpsichord. Translated and edited by Margery Halford. Port Washington, N.Y.: Alfred, 1974. Crozier, Catherine Pearl. “The Principles of Keyboard Technique in Il Transilvano by Girolamo Diruta.” MM thesis, Eastman School of Music of the University of Rochester, 1941. Denis, Jean. Traité de l’accord de l’éspinette. Paris: Ballard, 1650. Facsimile edited by Alan Curtis. New York: Da Capo Press, 1969. ——— . Treatise on Harpsichord Tuning. Translated by Vincent J. Panetta. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. Diruta, Girolamo. Il Transilvano. Venice, 1593, 1609. Facsimile edited by Luisa Cervelli. Bologna: Libreria Editrice Forni, 1969. Facsimile, The Netherlands: Frits Knuf, 1983. ——— . The Transylvanian. Translated and edited by Murray C. Bradshaw and Edward J. Soehnlein. Henryville, Pa.: Institute of Medieval Music, 1984. Duphly, Jacques. “Exercise Book for Lord Fitzwilliam.” Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Mus. Ms. 30 F 9. 1765. Dussek, Jan Ladislav, and Ignaz Pleyel. Méthode pour le piano-forte. Paris: Pleyel, 1797.

Bibliography Fétis, François-Joseph, and Ignaz Moscheles. Méthode des Méthodes de Piano, ou Traité de l’Art de jouer de cet Instrument. Paris: Schlesinger, 1837. Forkel, Johann Nikolaus. Über Johann Sebastian Bachs Leben, Kunst, und Kunstwerke. Leipzig, 1802. ——— . Johann Sebastian Bach: His Life, Art, and Work. Translated by Charles Sanford Terry. London, 1920. New York: Da Capo Press, 1970. Forqueray, Antoine. Pièces de clavecin. 1747. Foucquet, Pierre-Claude. Pièces de clavecin, second livre. Paris: Boyvin, le Clerc, de Bretonne, 1751. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1982. Frescobaldi, Girolamo. Toccate e partite d’intavolatura di cimablo . . . libro primo. Rome, 1615; rev. and enl. 1616. Ganassi dal Fontego, Sylvestro di. Opera intitulata Fontegara. Venice, 1535. Gasparini, Francesco. L’armonico pratico al cimbalo. Venice, 1708. ——— . The Practical Harmonist at the Keyboard. Translated by Frank S. Stillings. Edited by David L. Burrows. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1963. Hartong, Philipp Christoph. Dess musici theoretico-pratico . . . enthaltend eine methodische Clavier-Anweisung. Nuremberg, 1749. Hays, Elizabeth Loretta. “F. W. Marpurg’s Anleitung zum Clavierspielen (Berlin, 1755) and Principes du clavecin (Berlin, 1756).” PhD diss., Stanford University, 1977. Hensel, Johann Daniel. Ausübende Klavierschule, erster Gang. Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1796. Hodermann, Georg Caspar. Kurzer Unterricht für Musik-Anfänger: wie sie das

187

Clavier spielen auf eine sehr leichte Art erlernen können: mit 24 Handstücken und beigefügter Fingersetzung. Amsterdam: C. Hagen, 1787. Hüllmandel, Nicholas Joseph. Principles of Music Calculated for the Pianoforte or Harpsichord. London, 1796. Hummel, Johann Nepomuk. A Complete Theoretical and Practical Course of Instructions, on the Art of Playing the Pianoforte: Commencing with the Simplest Elementary Principles and Including Every Information Requisite to the Most Finished Style of Performance. London: T. Boosey, 1820. Kirnberger, Johann P. Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik. Berlin, 1771. Koch, Heinrich Christoph. Musikal isches Lexicon. Frankfurt, 1802. Lebègue, Nicolas. Les pièces de clavecin. Paris: Baillon, 1677. Facsimile, Courlay, France: Jean-Marc Fuzeau, 1995. Le Gallois, Jean. Lettre de Monsieur Le Gallois à Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier touchant la musique. Paris: E. Michallet & G. Quinet, 1680. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1984. Löhlein, Georg Simon. Clavierschule, oder Kurze und gründliche Anweisung zur Melodie und Harmonie, durch ghends mit practischen Beyspielen er kläret. Leipzig and Züllichau, 1765. Manfredini, Vincenzo. Regole armo niche. Venice: Presso Adolfo Cesare, 1775/1797. Marpurg, Friedrich Wilhelm. Anleitung zum Klavierspielen. Berlin: Haude & Spener, 1765. ——— . Clavierstücke mit einem practischen Unterricht für Anfänger und Geübter. Berlin: Haude & Spener, 1762. ——— . Der critische Musicus an der Spree 42 (December 1749): 337.

188

Bibliography

——— . Die Kunst das Clavier zu spielen. Berlin: Haude & Spener, 1751. ——— . Principes du clavecin. Berlin: Haude & Spener, 1756. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1974. Mattheson, Johann. Kleine General-BassSchule. Hamburg, 1735. ——— . Der vollkommene Kapellmeister. Hamburg, 1739. Merbach, George Friedrich. Clavierschule für Kinder. Leipzig, 1782. Méreaux, Jean-Amédée Le Froid de. Les clavecinistes de 1637 à 1790 (Paris, 1864–7/R). Mersenne, Marin. Harmonie universelle. Paris: Ballard, 1637. ——— . Harmonie Universelle: The Books on Instruments. Translated by Roger E. Chapman. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1957. Méthodes & traités 12, Série I, France, 1600–1800: Méthodes et leçons pour piano-forte ou clavecin. 2 vols. Edited by Jeanne Roudet, Jean Saint-Arroman, and Philippe Lescat. Courlay, France: Jean-Marc Fuzeau, 2003. Miller, Edward. Institutes of Music, or Easy Instructions for the Harpsichord: In which everything necessary for well grounding the scholar in the Rudiments of the Science is fully treated of in a new and familiar manner by way of Questions and Answers: To which are added easy and pleasing Lessons for Practice: properly fingered for young beginners. London: Longman & Broderip, 1780. Müller, August Eberhard. Klavierund Fortepiano-Schule. Jena, 1804, as 6th ed. of Löhlein, Clavierschule. Edited by Carl Czerny as Grosse Fortepiano-Schule. Leipzig: C. F. Peters, 1825.

——— . Kleines Elementarbuch für Klavierspieler als wesentliche Grundlage der Kunst das Klavier oder Pianoforte zu spielen. Leipzig: C. F. Peters, 1807. Nassarre, Fr. Pablo. Esquela música: según la prática moderna. Zaragoza, 1723. Facsimile edited by Lothar Siemens. Diputación Provincial de Zaragoza: Institución “Fernando el Católico,” 1980. New Instructions for Playing the Harpsichord, Piano-forte, or Spinnet. London, 1798. Facsimile, New York: Broude Brothers, 1967. Nivers, Guillaume-Gabriel. Livre d’orgue I. Paris: R. Ballard, 1665; Paris: Nivers, 1665. Facsimile edited by Norbert Dufourcq. Paris: Editions Bornemann, 1963. Facsimile, Courlay, France: Jean-Marc Fuzeau, 1987, 1996. Ortiz, Diego. Tratado de glosas sobre clausulas y otros géneros de puntos en la música de violones. Rome, 1553. Parsons, John. The Elements of Music with Progressive Practice Lessons for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte. London: Parsons, 1794. Pasquali, Nicolò. The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord: Illustrated with Examples in Notes: To Which Is Added an Approved Method of Tuning That Instrument. Edinburgh: Printed for Rob. Bremner, 1760. Penna, Lorenzo. Li primi albori musicali. Bologna: Monti, 1672. Facsimile of 1684 ed. edited by G. Vecchi. Bologna: Forni, 1969. Petri, Johann Samuel. Anleitung zur praktischen Musik vor neuangehende Sänger und Instrumentspieler. Lauben, 1767; 2nd ed. enl., 1782. Giebing über Prien am Chiemsee: Emil Katzbichler, 1967.

Bibliography Petschke, Adolph Friedrich. Versuch eines Unterrichts zum Klavierspielen. Leipzig, 1783. Praetorius, Michael. Syntagma musicum. Vol. 1: Syntagmatis musici tomus primus: musicae artis analecta. Wittenberg & Wolfenbüttel, 1614–15. Vol. 2: Syntagmatis musici tomus secundus: de organographia. Wolfenbüttel, 1618 [with pictorial suppl., Theatrum instrumentorum]. Vol. 3: Syntagmatis musici tomus tertius: termini musici. Wolfenbüttel, 1619. ——— . Syntagma musicum III. Translated by Jeffery T. Kite-Powell. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. Prencourt, F. Short, Easy & Plaine Rules to learne in a few days time the true principles of Musick and chiefly what relates to the use of the Spinette, Harpsichord, or Organ. British Library, Add. Ms. 32531. Quantz, Johann Joachim. Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen. Berlin, 1752; 3rd ed., 1789. Facsimile of 3rd ed. edited by Hans-Peter Schmitz. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1953. ——— . On Playing the Flute. Translated by Edward R. Reilly. New York: Schirmer Books, 1985. Rameau, Jean-Philippe. Code de musique pratique. Paris, 1760. Facsimile, New York: Broude Brothers, 1965. Facsimile edited by Erwin R. Jacobi. Rome: American Institute of Musicology, 1969. ——— . De la mechanique des doigts sur le clavessin. Appended to the 1st ed. of Pièces de clavecin (1724). Edited and translated by Erwin R. Jacobi. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1972. ——— . Dissertation sur les différentes méthodes d’accompagnement pour le

189

clavecin ou pour l’orgue, avec le plan d’une nouvelle méthode établie sur une méchanique des doigts; que fournit la succession fondamentale de l’harmonie, et à l’aide de laquelle on peut devenir sçavant composeur, & habileaccompagnateur, même sans sçavoir lire la musique. Paris: Bailleux, 1732. ——— . Dissertation on the Different Methods of Accompaniment. Translated by Deborah Hayes. Ann Arbor, Mich.: University Microfilms, 1974. ——— . Pièces de clavecin: avec une méthode sur la méchanique des doigts. Paris, 1724. Monuments of Music and Music Literature. Facsimile, Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1966; New York: Broude Brothers, 1967. ——— . Pièces de clavecin: avec une mé thode sur la méchanique des doigts. Introduction by Kenneth Gilbert. Paris: Heugel, 1972. ——— . Traité de l’harmonie reduite à ses principes naturels. Paris, 1722. ——— . Treatise on Harmony. Translated by Philip Gossett. New York: Dover, 1971. Rellstab, Johann Carl Friedrich. Anleitung für Clavierspieler, den Gebrauch der Bachschen Fingersetzung, die Manieren und den Vortrag betreffend. Berlin, 1790. Reprint, Berlin: Rellstabsche Musikhandlung und verb. Musikdruckerey, 1979. Ross, John. A Complete Book of Instructions for Beginners on the Harpsichord or Fortepiano. London, 1795. Rousseau, Jean. Méthode claire, certaine et facile pour apprendre à chanter la musique. 5th ed. Amsterdam ed., 1710. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1976. ——— . Traité de la viole. Facsimile of Paris edition, 1687. Introduction by

190

Bibliography

François Lesure. Geneva: Minkoff, 1975. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Dictionnaire de musique. Paris: la veuve Duchesne, 1768. ——— . A Complete Dictionary of Music: Consisting of a Copious Explanation of All Words Necessary to a True Knowledge and Understanding of Music. Translated by William Waring. London, 1771 and 1779. New York: AMS, 1975. Saint-Lambert, Michel de. Les principes du clavecin. 1702. Geneva: Minkoff, 1972. ——— . Principles of the Harpsichord. Translated by Rebecca Harris-Warwick. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984. Samber, Johann Baptist. Manuductio ad organum, das ist Gründlich- und sichere Handleitung durch die höchstnothwendige Solmisation, zu der edlen Schlag-Kunst. Salzburg: J. B. Mayrs, 1704. Sancta Maria, Fray Tomás de. Libro llamado arte de tañer fantasía, assi para tecla como para vihuela. Valladolid, 1565. Facsimile, Farborough, Hampshire: Gregg, 1972, and Geneva: Minkoff, 1973. ——— . The Art of Playing the Fantasia. Translated by Almonte C. Howell Jr. and Warren E. Hultberg. Pittsburgh: Latin American Literary Review Press, 1991. Schlick, Arnolt. Spiegel der Orgelmacher und Organisten. Mainz, 1511. Facsimile and English translated by Elizabeth Berry Barber. Buren, The Netherlands: Frits Knuf, 1980. Scipione, Giovanni. Intavolatura di cembalo, et organo. Perugia, 1650.

Soehnlein, Edward John. “Diruta on the Art of Keyboard-Playing: An Annotated Translation and Transcription of Il Transilvano.” 2 vols. PhD diss., University of Michigan, 1975. Speer, Daniel. Grundrichtiger Unterricht der musicalischen Kunst. Göppingen: Kühnen, 1697. Facsimile edited by F. Burkhardt, Leipzig: Peters, 1974. Thielo, Carl August. Tanker og Regler fra Grunden af om Musiken. Copenhagen: J. G. Groth, 1746. Türk, Daniel Gottlob, Klavierschule, oder Anweisung zum Klavierspielen für Lehrer und Lernende. Leipzig, 1789. Facsimile, Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1967. ——— . School of Clavier Playing; or, Instructions in Playing the Clavier for Teachers & Students. Translated by Raymond H. Haggh. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1982. Venegas de Henestrosa, Luis, et al. Libro de cifra nueva para tecla, harpa y vihuela. Alcalá de Henares, 1557. Wilson, Dora Jean. “Georg Simon Löhlein’s Klavierschule: Translation and Commentary.” PhD diss., University of Southern California, 1979. Wolf, Georg Friedrich. Kurzer aber deutlichen Unterricht im Klavierspielen. Pt. 1, 2nd ed., Halle, 1784; 3rd ed., Halle, 1789. Zach, Johann Christian, and FrancescoPasquale Ricci. Méthode ou recueil de connoisances, elementaires pour le forte-piano ou clavecin. Paris, 1786. Facsimile, Geneva: Minkoff, 1974. Secondary Sources Ahlgrimm, Isolde. “Current Trends in Performance of Baroque Music.” Diapason 73 (April 1982): 1.

Bibliography Anderson, Emily. The Letters of Mozart and His Family. Vol. 3. New York: Norton, 1985. Apel, Willi, and Ralph T. Daniel. The Harvard Brief Dictionary of Music. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1960. ——— . The History of Keyboard Music to 1700. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1972. Baker, Nancy Kovaleff, and Thomas S. Christensen. Aesthetics and the Art of Musical Composition in the German Enlightenment: Selected Writings of Johann Georg Sulzer and Heinrich Christoph Koch. Cambridge Studies in Music Theory and Analysis 7. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Bedbrook, Gerald Stares. Keyboard Music from the Middle Ages to the Beginnings of the Baroque. New York: Da Capo Press, 1973. Benoit, Marcelle. Dictionnaire de la musique en France aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles. France: Arthème Fayard, 1992. Berger, Ludwig. “Erläuterung eines Mozartschen Urtheils über Muzio Clementi.” Allgemeine musikalisches Zeitung 31, no. 28 (July 1829): 468. Bond, Ann. A Guide to the Harpsichord. Portland, Ore.: Amadeus Press, 1997. Boxall, Maria. Harpsichord Method: Based on Sixteenth to Eighteenth Century Sources. New York: Schott, 1977. Boxall, Maria, and Mark Lindley. Early Keyboard Fingerings: An Anthology. New York: Schott, 1982. ——— . Early Keyboard Fingerings: A Comprehensive Guide. New York: Schott, 1992. Brauchli, Bernard. “Aspects of Early Keyboard Technique: Hand and Fin-

191

ger Positions as Seen in Early Treatises and Iconographical Documents.” Journal of the American Musical Instrument Society 18 (1992): 62–102; 20 (1994): 90–220. Brown, Clive. “Dots and Strokes in Late 18th- and 19th-Century Music.” Early Music 21 (November 1993): 593–610. Buelow, George J. “Music, Rhetoric, and the Concept of the Affections: A Selective Bibliography.” Notes 30 (1973–74): 250–59. Camidge, Matthew. Instructions for the Piano-forte or Harpsichord. London: Longman & Broderip, 1795. Clavecin: méthodes, traités, dictionnaires et encyclopédies, ouvrages généraux. 2 vols. Courlay, France: Éditions Fuzeau, 2002. Colt, Jonathan. Forever Young. New York: Random House, 1977. Dart, Thurston. The Interpretation of Music. 4th ed. London: Hutchinson, 1967. David, Hans T., and Arthur Mendel, eds. The Bach Reader: A Life of Johann Sebastian Bach in Letters and Documents. Rev. ed. New York: W. W. Norton, 1966. Delft, Menno van. “Schnellen: A Quintessential Articulation Technique in Eighteenth-Century Keyboard Playing.” In The Keyboard in Baroque Europe, ed. Christopher Hogwood, 187–97. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Derr, Elwood. “The Two-Part Inventions: Bach’s Composers’ Vademecom.” Music Theory Spectrum 3 (1981): 26–48. Deutsch, Otto Erich. “Cecilia and Parthenia.” Musical Times 100 (November 1959): 591–92.

192

Bibliography

——— . Schubert: die Dokumente seines Lebens. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1964. ——— . Schubert: A Documentary Biography. Translated by Eric Blom. London: Dent, 1946. New York: Da Capo Press, 1977. Dickens, Theodore Pierce. “A Brief Overview of Keyboard Technique as Applied to Playing the Harpsichord, the Piano, and the Organ.” DMA document, University of Alabama, 2001. Dolmetsch, Arnold. The Interpretation of the Music of the XVII and XVIII Centuries. London: Novello, [1915]. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1969. Donington, Robert. Baroque Music: Style and Performance: A Handbook. New York: W.W. Norton, 1982. ——— . The Interpretation of Early Music. New ed. London: Faber, 1974. ——— . A Performer’s Guide to Baroque Music. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1973. Faulkner, Quentin. “Griepenkerl on J. S. Bach’s Keyboard Technique: A Translation and Commentary.” American Organist 22, no. 1 (January 1988): 63–64. ——— . J. S. Bach’s Keyboard Technique: A Historical Introduction. St. Louis: Concordia, 1989. Ferguson, Howard. Keyboard Interpretation from the Fourteenth to the Nineteenth Century: An Introduction. New York: Oxford University Press, 1975. Fétis, François Joseph. Biographie universelle des musicians et bibliographie générale de la musique. Paris, 1873. Facsimile, Brussels: Culture et civilisation, 1972. Fuller, David. “French Harpsichord Playing in the Seventeenth Century

after Le Gallois.” Early Music 4, no. 1 (January 1986): 22–26. Grove Music Online. Edited by Laura Macy. Häkkinen, Aapo. “The Clavichord and the Harpsichord: Basic Keyboard Technique in the Eighteenth Century: Including interviews with Derek Adlam, Pierre Hantaï, Gustav Leonhardt, and Miklós Spányi.” Clavichord International 5, no. 1 (November 1997): 23–26. Halford, Margery. The Harpsichord Manual: An Introduction to the Technique, Ornamentation, and Performance Practices. Sherman Oaks, Calif.: Alfred, 1980. Harich-Schneider, Eta. The Harpsichord: An Introduction to Technique, Style, and the Historical Sources. 2nd ed. St. Louis: Concordia, 1954. ——— . Die Kunst des Cembalo-Spiels: Nach den vorhandenen Quellen darge stellt und erläutert. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1958. Haynes, Bruce. The End of Early Music: A Period Performer’s History of Music for the Twenty-first Century. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Hewlett, Walter B. “The Vermehrter . . . Wegweiser of 1689.” DMA document, Stanford University, 1980. Hickmann, Hans. Das Portative. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1936. Hipkins, Alfred James. “The Old Clavier or Keyboard Instruments: Their Use by Composers and Technique.” Proceedings of the Musical Association 12 (1885–86): 139–48. Hoag, Barbara Brewster. “The Performance Practice of Iberian Keyboard Music of the Seventeenth Century.” PhD diss., New York University, 1980.

Bibliography Hogwood, Christopher. French Music and the Fitzwilliam. Cambridge: Fitzwilliam Museum, 1975. ——— , ed. The Keyboard in Baroque Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Huang, Hao, and Harold Lee. “How Piano Technique Changed over 300 Years.” Clavier 36, no. 2 (February 1997): 31–33. Hubbard, Frank. Three Centuries of Harp sichord Making. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1965. Jacobi, Erwin R., ed. The Complete Theoretical Writings of Jean-Philippe Rameau. 6 vols. Rome: American Institute of Musicology, 1967–72. Jacobs, Charles. “The Performance Practice of Spanish Renaissance Keyboard Music.” PhD diss., New York University, 1962. Jenkins, Glyn. “The Legato Touch and the ‘Ordinary’ Manner of Keyboard Playing from 1750–1850.” PhD diss., University of Cambridge, 1976. Textfiche. Johnson, Calvert. “Early Italian Keyboard Fingering,” Early Keyboard Journal 10 (1992): 7–88. Kastner, Macario Santiago. The Interpretation of Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Iberian Keyboard Music. Monographs in Musicology, 4. Stuyvesant, N.Y.: Pendragon Press, 1987. Keller, Hermann. Phrasing and Articulation: A Contribution to a Rhetoric of Music with 152 Musical Examples. Translated by Leigh Gerdine. New York: W. W. Norton, 1965. Kenyon, Paul. “‘Imitatio Violistica’ in Scheidt’s ‘Tabulatura nova.’” Musical Times 130, no. 1751 (January 1989).

193

Kipnis, Igor. Harpsichord and Clavichord: An Encyclopedia. New York: Routledge, 2007. Kirkpatrick, Ralph. Domenico Scarlatti. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1953. ——— . “Fifty Years of Harpsichord Playing.” Early Music 11 (January 1983): 31–41. Knecht, Justin Heinrich. Kleine theoretische Klavierschule für die ersten Anfänger worin die Anfangsgründe sowohl der Musik überhaupt, als des Klavierspielens ins besondere auf eine fassliche Weise gelehret werden. Munich: in der Falterischen Musikhandlung, 1800. Koch, Heinrich Christoph. Musikali sches Lexikon. Frankfurt, 1802. Kong, Joanne Lan-Funn. “A Comparison of the Technical and Interpretive Qualities of the Piano and Harpsichord: Accompanied by Performance Editions of the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue (BWV 903) by Johann Sebastian Bach.” PhD diss., University of Oregon, 1986. Kottick, Edward L. A History of the Harpsichord. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2003. Kroll, Mark. Playing the Harpsichord Expressively: A Practical and Historical Guide. Lanham, Md.: Scarecrow Press, 2004. Landowska, Wanda. Landowska on Music. Translated by Denise Restout, assisted by Robert Hawkins. New York: Stein & Day, 1964. Lawson, Colin, and Robin Stowell. The Historical Performance of Music: An Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Lister, Craig. “P. C. Hartong and Transition in Eighteenth-Century Keyboard

194

Bibliography

Instruction.” Early Keyboard Journal 4 (1985–86): 28–42. ——— . “Traditions of Keyboard Technique from 1650–1750.” PhD diss., University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 1979. Lohman, Ludger. “Touch.” In The Harpsichord and Clavichord: An Encyclopedia, ed. Igor Kipnis. New York: Taylor & Francis, 2007. Lubin, Ernest. “Hammers or Quills.” Music Journal 35 (January 1977): 14. Matthay, Tobias. Music Interpretation: Its Laws and Principles and Their Application in Teaching and Performing. Boston: Boston Music, 1913. Metzger, Nancy. Harpsichord Technique: A Guide to Expressivity. 2nd ed. Portland, Ore.: Musica Dulce, 1998. Moroney, Davitt. “Chambonnières and his ‘Belle manière.’” In Jean-Baptiste Lully, Actes du Colloque, Saint-Germain-en-Laye—Heidelberg, 1987, ed. Jérôme de la Gorce and Herbert Schneider, 201–208. Laaber: LaaberVerlag, 1990. ——— . “Couperin, Marpurg, and Roeser: A Germanic Art de toucher le clavecin, or a French Wahre Art?” In The Keyboard in Baroque Europe, ed. Christopher Hogwood, 111–32. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Nandi, Jean. Starting on the Harpsichord: A First Book for the Beginner. Berkeley, Calif.: Bon Goût, 1989. Neumann, Frederick. Ornamentation in Baroque and Post-Baroque Music. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978. Newman, Anthony. Bach and the Baroque. New York: Pendragon Press, 1985.

Nurmi, Ruth, A Plain & Easy Introduction to the Harpsichord. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1974. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1986. Parkins, Robert. “Keyboard Fingering in Early Spanish Sources.” Early Music 11, no. 3 (July 1983): 323–31. Powell, Newman W. Early Keyboard Fingering and Its Effect on Articulation. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1954. Pruitt, William H. “The Organ Works of Guillaume-Gabriel Nivers (1632– 1714).” PhD diss., University of Pittsburgh, 1969. Rigler, Franz Paul. Anleitung zum Gesange, und dem Klaviere oder die Orgel zu spielen. Vienna, 1798. Ripin, Edwin M. , et al., eds. The New Grove Dictionary of Early Keyboard Instruments. London: Macmillan, 1989. Rodgers, Julane. “Early Keyboard Fingering, ca. 1520–1620.” PhD diss., University of Oregon, 1971. Rosen, Charles. The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. New York: W. W. Norton, 1972. Rosenhart, Kees. The Amsterdam Harpsichord Tutor. Amsterdam: Saul B. Groen, 1977; 2nd ed., 1982. Russell, Raymond. The Harpsichord and Clavichord: An Introductory Study. London: Faber & Faber, 1973. Sachs, Barbara, and Barry Ife, trans. Anthology of Early Keyboard Methods. Cambridge: Gamut, 1981. Scheibert, Beverly. Jean-Henry D’Anglebert and the SeventeenthCentury Clavecin School. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986. Schott, Howard. Playing the Harpsichord. London: Faber & Faber, 1971. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1979.

Bibliography Soderlund, Sandra. How Did They Play? How Did They Teach? A History of Keyboard Technique. Chapel Hill, N.C.: Hinshaw Music, 2006. ——— . Organ Technique: An Historical Approach. Chapel Hill, N.C.: Hinshaw Music, 1980. Speer, Klaus. “Harpsichord—Some Additional Thoughts.” American Music Teacher 12 (May/June 1963): 22–23. Strahle, Graham. An Early Music Dictionary: Musical Terms from British Sources, 1500–1740. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Sulzer, Johann Georg, Christian Friedrich von Blankenburg, J. A. P. Schulz, and Johann Philipp Kirnberger. Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste in Einzeln, nach alphabetischer Ordnung der Kunstwörter aufein anderfolgenden, Artikeln abgehandelt. 1774. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1967.

195

Sumner, William Leslie. The Pianoforte. London: McDonald, 1966. Tagliavini, Luigi Fernando. “The Art of ‘Not Leaving the Instrument Empty’: Comments on Early Italian Harpsichord Playing.” Early Music 11 (July 1983): 299–308. Troeger, Richard. Technique and Interpretation on the Harpsichord and Clavichord. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987. Valenti, Fernando. The Harpsichord: A Dialogue for Beginners. Hackensack, N.J.: Jerona Music, 1982. Walther, Johann Gottfried. Musicali sches Lexicon. Leipzig: W. Deer, 1732. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 2001. Williams, Peter F. “The Harpsichord Acciaccatura: Theory and Practice in Harmony, 1650–1750.” Musical Quarterly 54 (1968): 503–23. ——— , ed. Bach, Handel, Scarlatti: Tercentenary Essays. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985.

Index

Page numbers in italics indicate figures and musical examples. Agricola, Johann Friedrich, 137 Alexander, Frederick Matthias, 153n41 Alexander Technique, 13, 153n41 allegro, 72–76, 99, 103, 109 Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste in Einzeln (Sulzer), 75, 102 Ammerbach, Elias Nikolaus, 115, 137 Les amusements du Parnasse (Corrette), 24 Anglebert, Jean Henry d’, 92, 105, 174n99 Anleitung (Petri), 24 Anleitung für Clavierspielen (Rellstab), 69, 109 Anleitung zum Gesange (Rigler), 84 Applikatur (fingering), 112. See also fingering appoggiaturas, 94–96, 95, 98; port de voix, 96, 174n99 aptitude, of hands, 22 Arauxo, Francisco Correa de. See Correa de Arauxo, Francisco arch: of fingers, 37, 39, 60; of hand, 24, 31, 36–37, 39 L’armonico pratico al cimbalo (Gasparini), 23 arms: guiding the hands, 29, 31, 47–48; holding and moving, 2; movement of, 2, 13–14, 29, 36, 84; position at key-

das Abstossen, 103. See also détaché accents: accented appoggiaturas, 96; accenti, 97, 175n102; agogic accents, 107–108, 178n140; notation of, 109 acciaccatura, 92, 173n84 accidentals (raised keys), fingering for, 126–130, 183nn40,44,48 action: heavy keyboard action, effect, 49, 165n28; of Italian harpsichords, 173n81; maintenance, basic skills, 50; plucking action, 1, 9–10, 33; quilling, 8 adagio, 72–75, 91, 109 affects (Affektenlehre), 169n20 Affekt (character), 75 age, for beginning lessons, 5–6 agility: fingering, 112; fingers, 31, 33, 63, 85, 112, 116; hands, 63; knees, 44; wrists, 29 agogic accents, 107–108, 178n140 agréments: appoggiaturas, 95, 96; aspiration, 104–106, 105, 174n99; coulé (coulé sur tierce or tierce coulé), 92, 123; détaché, 103, 105–106; execution according to context, 174n99; port de voix, 96, 174n99; suspension, 93, 104–105, 105; tremblement, 106; trills, 19, 43–44, 94, 97–99, 104, 115, 135, 177n129, 182n29. See also ornamentation 197

198

Index

board, 10, 12, 23–26, 52, 55; relaxation of, 18; thumb position and, 22, 36; weight, 52–53, 59, 62, 168n81 arpeggios: articulation of, 90–93; batteries, 29; finger use in, 92–93, 129; harmony and, 97, 173n84; in legato playing, 84; little fingers in, 129; nonharmonic notes in, 173n84 (see also acciaccatura); roulements, 29; slurs and ties (liaisons), 88–89; and staggered playing, 93; style brisé, 90, 92; sustaining by ornaments, 97 L’art de toucher le clavecin (Couperin, F.), 2, 41, 81, 84–85, 86, 103, 122–123, 122–123 The Art of Fingering the Harpsichord, Spinet, or Organ (Pasquali), 8, 80, 124, 128–129, 131, 179n148 Arte de tañer fantasia. See Libro llamado arte de tañer fantasia (Sancta Maria) articulation, 4; in absence of designated musical direction, 72; adagio, 72; agogic accents, 107–108, 178n140; allegro, 72–76, 99, 103, 109; arpeggios, 90–93; artistic license, 96–97, 133– 135; brilliant style, 51, 103–104, 113; cantabile, 99–101, 176nn110,116; detached playing, 101–104, 108; and differences in harpsichords, 113; dynamics, 65, 96; finger motion, 71; fingering and, 65, 113, 118–120, 122, 134–135; and good performance, 73; of grace notes, trills, 94–99; harmony, 91–92, 95, 173n85; legato playing, 80–87; musical terms, 75–76; note lengths, timing of, 108–110; ordinary manner, 72, 77–79; piano playing and, 65; preparedness, 104; purpose and scope of, 70–76; signs, effect on, 72; silences, 104–108; slides, 92; slurs, 87–90; speed of, 60; staggered playing, 93–94; stroking the keys, 60; style brisé (broken style), 90, 92;

tempo markings, 73–74; text and syntax, 74; timing, 108–110; varied articulations, 65, 73, 136 artistic license, 96–99, 130–135 artistry, 70–110 “Aspects” (Brauchli), 159n115 aspiration, 104–106, 105, 174n99 Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel: about, 65, 137; on articulation, 72; on clavichord, 31, 66–68; on curvature of hand, 34; on detached notes, 72; on dynamics, 65; on facial expressions, 15–16; on finger extension, contraction, 21, 34–35, 45–46, 125; on finger technique, 34, 160n24, 167n55; on fingering, 86, 112, 120, 125–128; on forearm position, 25; on J. S. Bach, 125–126; on memorization, 46; on note lengths, 108; on ordinary manner, 72; on ornaments, 58, 94–95, 97–98; on performance, 73; on playing different keyboard instruments, 66–68; on position at keyboard, 11– 12; on quilling, 8; on singing, 100; on slurs, 72, 88, 88 Bach, Johann Christian, 25, 39, 137 Bach, Johann Sebastian: about, 137; appoggiaturas in Sonata BWV 1027, 95, 95; calm hand of, 63; cantabile, 100; on fingering, 125–126; fingering technique of, 111; Forkel as biographer of, 149n5; hand technique of, 34–35, 49, 53, 59–60, 63, 136, 167n51; playing of described, 1; posture of, 14; teaching method of, 42–43 The Bach Reader (David and Mendel, eds.), 111 Bacilly, Bénigne de, 98–99 balance point: of fingers, 55; of hands, 53, 54, 55 Ballard, Robert, 92

Index Banchieri, Adriano, 115, 137 Barthélemon, François-Hippolyte, 13 batteries, 29, 124, 182n32 beautiful playing, 2, 4, 7, 20, 23, 36, 44, 51–52, 66, 85, 182n29; “belle manière du toucher” (a beautiful manner of playing), 166n38; fingers and, 23; of ornaments, 94–99 Bédos de Celles, François (Dom Bédos), 106 Beethoven, Ludwig van, 101–102 Bermudo, Juan, 116, 137, 181n17 body. See posture le bon air, 17 le bon goût, 17, 94 Bösendorfer, Ignaz, 152n21 Boyvin, Jacques, 138 Brauchli, Bernard, 159n115 breathing: and cantabile, 100–101; freedom in, 17; rests, 71; tension and, 18; voice studies, 99 Briareus, 121, 182n20 brilliant style, 51, 55, 59–60, 86, 101, 103–104, 113 Broderip, M. Robert, 3, 64, 138 broken chords, 87–88, 90 broken style. See style brisé (broken style) Brossard, Sébastien de, 91 Buchner, Hans, 62, 115, 138 Buelow, George, 71 Bull, John, 115, 121, 138, 157n101 Burney, Charles, 16, 63, 138 Byrd, William, 119, 120, 138, 157n101 Cabezón, Antonio de, 138, 181n17 Cabezón, Hernando de, 20, 116, 138, 181n17 Caccini, Giulio, 178n147 cadence, 104, 177n129 calm hand position, 50, 62–63 Camidge, Matthew, 130, 138 cantabile, 99–101, 176nn110,116 cat’s paw position, 30–31

199

Cecilia, St., 157n101, 158n102 chamber organ, 3 Chambonnières, Jacques Champion de, 1, 51–52, 92, 104, 138–139, 149n3 character (Affekt), 75 children: instruments for, 8, 66, 151nn11,12; small hands of, effect, 130; stretching of fingers, hands, 45–46; teaching of, 5, 8, 12–13, 66, 151nn11,12 Chopin, Fryderyk, 113, 139 choppy playing, 35, 81–82, 101–102, 108 chords: broken chords, 88, 90; dissonance, 65; emphasized by agogic accent, 178n140; fingering, 135; in legato playing, 84; ornamenting of, 91–92; in slurs, 87–88; staggered playing of, 93 clavichord: bebung (vibrato), 68; C. P. E. Bach’s performance on, 16, 65; détaché, 103; elbow position for, 23, 25; finger, 30–33; J. S. Bach’s technique on, 34; as a learning instrument, 5, 9, 66; ornaments, playing on, 58; playing, avoiding hard labor, 21; and playing on different keyboard instruments, 10, 65–69; sliding motion on, 58; slurs, pressure and, 88; touch for, 10, 23; as the “true Klavier,” 3, 150n9 clavier. See Klavier Clavier-Anweisung (Hartong), 11, 123 Clavierschule (Löhlein), 3, 60 Clavierschule (rev. Müller), 3 Clavierstücke (Marpurg), 83 Clementi, Muzio, 102, 139 Code de musique pratique (Rameau), 29, 38, 131 comfort: adagio, 91; of arch of hand, 36; of arm position, 10; of chair, seating, 11–12, 17; of elbow position, 26; in finger position, 11, 22; in fingering, 111–113, 125, 128–129, 134; of play-

200

Index

ing, 19; position at keyboard, 13; of posture, 136 A Complete Book of Instructions for Beginners on the Harpsichord or Fortepiano (Ross), 3 composition, conveying meaning of, 71 “Concerning the Technique of the Fingers on the Harpsichord” (Rameau), 44–45 Conclusioni nel suono dell’organo (Banchieri), 115 connected playing: articulation, 118; in legato, 80–90; in ordinary manner, 77–79 connection: of limbs and joints, 14; musical phrases, 74–75, 78–79; with plectra and strings, 1, 33, 47–49, 174n94 consonance, fingering and, 114, 119 consonant harmonies, 71, 95 Constanze, Hans Buchner van. See Buchner, Hans contact with keys, 26, 47, 49–50, 52, 80–82, 104, 107, 109–110, 136 continuo, 6, 65, 82, 130, 178n140 contraction, 15, 21, 38, 41–42, 55, 83, 130–133, 131–134 Correa de Arauxo, Francisco, 80, 116, 121, 139, 181n17 Corrette, Michelle, 11–12, 17, 24, 36, 121, 139 coulé sur tierce, 92, 123 Couperin, Charles, 51 Couperin, François: about, 139; on age to begin lessons, 5; on aspiration and suspension, 104–105, 105; on beginners, 7; on cadence, 177n129; on detached playing, 103, 103; on la douceur du toucher, 2, 47; on dynamics of harpsichord, 64; on elbow, wrist, finger position, 26; on facial grimaces, 15; on finger flexibility, 19, 40; on finger substitution, 84–85, 85–86,

171n62; on fingering, 80–81, 122– 123, 122–123; on good taste, 122; on key contact, 47; on legato playing, 81–82; on note lengths, 109–110; on position of feet, 12–13; on posture at keyboard, 10–13, 17; on sitting height, 26 Couperin, Louis, 1, 51–52, 139, 149n3 courantes, 92 “crab walk,” 133 creative process, and warm-up exercises, 46 crescendo, 97, 105, 120 Cristofori, Bartolomeo, 151n7 crossing: of fingers, 46, 127, 133; of hands, 24, 29, 48–49, 126–127, 151n6 crushed note (acciaccatura), 173n84 curvature: cat’s paw position, 30–31; of fingers, 19, 21, 29–39, 33, 39, 83, 107; of hands, 28, 30–39, 33, 39, 53; of palms, 39 curved lines, notation, effect, 84–85, 85 Czerny, Carl, 60, 101–102, 139–140 Dagincourt, François, 67, 140 dance: dance movement, 106; dancelike rhythms, 180n9; hands of ballet dancers, 136; performance styles, touches for, 74, 113–114 D’Anglebert. See Anglebert, Jean Henry d’ Daquin, Louis-Claude, 67, 140 darted notes, 58 decaying tone, 87, 90, 97, 173n81, 179n148 delicacy of touch, 2, 4, 20, 28, 31, 47, 52, 69, 71, 110, 136 Denis, Jean, 20, 29, 82, 121, 140 depressing of keys, 38, 47–49, 79, 109 detached playing, 72, 103; in allegro, 72; articulation in, 101–104, 108; and aspiration and suspension, 105; avoid-

Index ing when not marked, 81; in brilliant style, 51, 86, 103–104, 113; compared to legato, ordinary manners of playing, 77; and contraction of hand, 132; détaché in, 103, 105–106; detached notes, how much to detach, 104; distance to keys, effect on, 83; fingering for, 103, 103, 113, 132; in leaping passages and rapid tempos, 72; in nonlegato fingering, 81; before ornaments, 106; of silences, 170n31 Deutsch, Otto Erich, 157n101 dictionaries, musical, 76, 81, 91, 112, 158n105 Dictionnaire (Brossard), 91 Dictionnaire de L’Académie française, 2 Dictionnaire de musique (Rousseau, J.), 81, 112, 158n105 “Of different Evolutions, and the manner of contracting the Fingers” (Miller), 41–42 “On the different touches” (Pasquali), 179n148 diminuendo, 96–97, 120 diminutions, 47–49, 115, 181n12, 183n48 Diruta, Girolamo: about, 140; on accenti, 97, 175n102; on arm guiding hand, 29; on articulation, 77; on cat’s paw position, 31; on elbow, arm, wrist position, 24; on fingering, 31, 114–118; on hand position, 29, 31, 36, 155n64; on making gestures and movements, 13– 14; on minimizing lifting of fingers, 47–48; on ornaments, 97, 175n102; on position at keyboard, 11; on posture at keyboard, 13–14, 155n64; on supple, light hand, 19–20; on sustaining sound, 90–91, 173n81; on techniques for organ, harpsichord, 180n9; on trills, 97, 175n102; writing on playing other keyboard instruments, 2 Dissertation (Rameau), 70, 82, 130

201

dissonance: acciaccatura in touching dissonant notes, 173n84; in appoggiaturas, 95–96; articulation of, 91, 95; dissonant harmonies, 65, 71, 119; fingering and, 114, 119; weak and strong notes, 114, 119 distance: chair, from keyboard, 10; between fingers and keys, 83; of key width, fingers positioned at, 39; between torso and keyboard, 10 “On the Distinction and Slurring of the Notes” (Nivers), 74 ditto buono, 114 ditto cattivo, 114 “Du doigté” (Duphly), 81 “Doigter” (Duphly), 81, 158n105 “Doigter” (Rousseau, J.-J.), 81, 158n105 “Du doigter” (Duphly), 158n105 Dom Bédos (François Bédos de Celles), 106 dotted rhythms, 98 double-manual keyboards, 7, 12, 65, 151n6 la douceur du toucher, 2, 4, 20, 28, 31, 47, 52, 69, 71, 110, 136 Dowland, John, 119, 120, 140 dramatic nuance, 64 Duphly, Jacques, 37, 67, 81–82, 93, 140, 161n135 Dussek, Frantiek Xavers, 17, 140 Dutch virginal school, 121 dynamics, 3, 52, 63–69, 74, 97–98, 100, 105, 120 effortless playing, 2 elasticity, of fingers, 9, 38, 46, 53, 102, 183n44 elbows, 3; to follow wrists, 29, 52; forearm motion and, 14; position at keyboard, 10, 12, 23–26, 29–30; relative to body, 24, 62; tension and, 18 elegance: in finger position, 22; of hand motion, 112

202

Index

The Elements of Music with Progressive Practical Lessons for the Harpsichord or Piano Forte (Parsons), 85 embellishments: articulation in playing, 94–99; artistic license and, 96–97; and expression, 64; quilling effect on, 8; tremblements (trills), 44; trills, 43–44; uses of, 99. See also ornamentation Engel, Carl, 140 English fortepiano, 102 English spinet, 56–57 English virginal school, 115, 121, 123 Engramelle, Marie-Dominique-Joseph, 106, 140–141 equality, of finger motion, 44–45 Esquela música: según la prática moderna (Nassarre), 6, 145 evenness: and speed, 45; of touch in instrument, 10 evolutions, 41, 41, 42 “Exercise Book for Lord Fitzwilliam” (Duphly), 81, 161n135 exercises, 4, 8; for contraction of hand, 131; and creative process, 46; for finger substitution, 84, 85; for fingers, 40–46, 41–42, 60, 135; by J. S. Bach, 42–43; for legato playing, 82–83, 82–83; ornaments as, 43–44; for thumbs, 22–23 expression: and affects (Affektenlehre), 169n20; agogic accents, 107–108, 178n140; arpeggiation, 90; articulation, 70–110; artistic license, 133–135; clavichord, 9; dynamics, 64–66; facial expressions, 16, 28; fingering patterns, 111, 134; and good performance, 73; in note lengths, and timing of, 108–110, 178n147, 178nn142,144, 179n148; ornaments, effect on, 98–99; refinement of on fortepiano and harpsichord, 68–69; in schwer and leicht styles, 75; silences

and, 104–107; in staggered playing, 93–94 extension: of fingers, 21, 35, 45; of hands, 15, 21 facial expressions, 14–18, 28 facility in playing, 21 Facultad orgánica (Arauxo), 181n17 Fallows, David, 74 Farnaby, Giles, 121 fast passages, 22, 55, 60–61, 169n27 feet, 2, 10, 12–13, 17 Fétis, François-Joseph, 141 Fifteen Two-Part Inventions (Bach, J. S.), 42–43 figured bass, 6, 65, 82, 178n140 finger motion, 14, 80; amount of, 14–15; and articulation, 77, 104; “crab walk,” 133; curvature of fingers, 35; in détaché, 103; equality of, 44–45; in finger exercises, 60; in fingering patterns, 112; independence of, 9, 39, 44–45, 98, 136; individual finger movement, 50; of J. S. Bach, 1; in legato playing, 81, 85; light and unrestrained, 71; in ordinary manner, 77–78; perpendicular, 35, 38, 55, 59, 164n26; pressing the keys, 48–49; relaxation and finger control, 21–23, 63; releasing keys, 60–61, 71, 107; in scale passages, 49–50; in schwer and leicht styles, 75; in slurs, 83–84; strength and elasticity, 9; stroking the keys, 9, 55–61, 56–57, 61–62; sustained notes, resting on keys, 79; tension and, 18; in trills, 97–98 finger pads, 30–33; finger pedaling, 80 finger patterns, 80–81; in detached or legato playing styles, 103; historical fingering patterns, 28, 36, 113–114, 116–119, 117, 121–123, 135; thumbunder patterns, shift to, 113. See also finger substitution; fingering

Index finger strength, 30, 53, 68, 98, 136 finger substitution, 46, 84–85, 85–86, 128, 171n62 finger weight, 3, 52, 79 fingering, 4; of accidentals, 126–130, 127–129, 183nn40,44,48; and agility, 112; Applikatur, 112; and articulation, 65, 113, 118–120, 122, 134–135; and artistic license, 130–133; for brilliant style, 113; for comfort, 111–113, 128–129, 134; consonance and, 114, 119; context, affected by, 113, 115, 125; for contraction of the hand, 130–133, 131–134; convenience in, 112; “crab walk,” 133; crossing of fingers, 127, 133; for detached playing, 103, 103, 113, 132; and differences in harpsichords, 113; for different intervals, 115, 119, 128, 130–131, 183n48; diminuendo, for, 120; for diminutions, 115, 181n12, 183n48; dissonance and, 114, 119; diversity in, 136; evolving practices of, 122; expressive fingerings, 134; finger substitution, 46, 84–85, 85–86, 128, 171n62; flowing facility of, 111; good and bad fingers, 114–115; in legato playing, 84–85, 85–86, 171n62; for lombardic rhythms, 115; non-legato fingering, detached notes in, 81; for ornaments, 84, 98; paired patterns, 28, 113–114, 116–119, 117, 121–123, 135; for phrasing, 119, 122; preparedness, 62–63; for quiebro, 56, 58; raised keys, for, 126–130, 127–129; for redoble, 58; for scales, 115, 118, 118–119, 123–124, 124, 126–127, 129; in Silvains (Woodland nymphs), 81; speed, effect on, 43; for strong and weak notes, 114–120, 117–120; techniques for, 111–135; tension in, effect, 116; for thumb use, 42, 42, 113, 120–130, 122–124, 127–129;

203

and trends in detached or legato playing, 103, 103; for trills, 115, 182n29; varied articulations and, 65; in warmup exercises by Miller, 42 fingers: achieving proper touch with, 19; agility of, 19, 22, 31, 33, 44, 51, 53, 63, 85, 112, 116, 119, 125; arch of, 15, 37, 39, 60; in arpeggios, 92–93, 129; balance point of, 55; connection with keys, 47, 50–51, 104, 109–110, 135–136; contraction, 38, 41–42, 130–133, 131–134; crossing of, 46, 127, 133; curvature of, 19, 21, 29–39, 33, 39, 82, 107; distance between keys and, 83; elasticity of, 9, 38, 46, 53, 102, 183n44; in extension, 21; extension of, 35, 45; flow of, 50, 81, 111; force of, 34–35; freedom of, 7, 23; good and bad fingers, 114–115; gravity, 35, 52–53; hands as support for, 28–29, 52–55; leaps, 45–46, 125, 129; in legato playing, 86; lifting of, 47–49, 60; lightness of, 28, 45, 63, 71; parallel alignment of, 28; pivot fingers, 126–127, 130; placement on keys, 34, 37; pressure of, 32, 35, 49, 59, 69; relaxation, 19–21, 38, 50, 83, 92–93, 136; strength development of, 9; stretching of, 19, 35, 40, 45–46; stroking the keys, 9, 34–35, 55–61, 56–57, 61–62, 107, 164n26; suppleness of, 5, 7, 19, 120; and sweet tone on harpsichord, 20; touching the keys, 47–69; uneven length of, effect, 32–33, 36–37, 151n12. See also middle fingers; small fingers; thumbs fingertips: avoiding using, 31–33; control of, maximizing, 135; curve of, 29, 36; depressing key with, 109; pads of fingertips, 37; sliding of, 59; in stroking the keys, 55 Fischer, Johann Caspar Ferdinand, 92, 141

204

Index

Flemish harpsichord, 7, 12, 113 flow: of breathing, 17–18; of fingers, 50, 80–81; of notes, 51; of playing, 51; of tones, 127 flowing manner of playing, 51, 73, 80– 83, 103–104, 111–112, 166n37 forearms, 14, 23, 25 Forkel, Johann Nicolaus: about, 141, 149n5; on articulation of musical phrase, 72; on a basic articulation, 78; as biographer of J. S. Bach, 149n5; on C. P. E. Bach, 34, 78, 160n124; on J. S. Bach, 1, 14, 34–35, 42–43, 49, 53, 59, 63, 136, 149n5, 167n51; on stroking the keys, 59; technique of, 59 Forqueray, Antoine, 93, 141 Forqueray, Jean-Baptiste (-Antoine), 141–142 fortepiano, 3, 64; detached playing on, 101–102; emergence of, 65; English fortepiano, 102; and heavy and light styles, 75; legato playing on, 101; method books for, 3; popularity of, effect on harpsichord, 68; refinement of touch and expression on, 68–69; and release toward the palm, 60; sustaining power of, 101. See also piano Foucquet, Pierre-Claude, 93–94 France, trend to legato playing, 86 François le Grand. See Couperin, François French agréments. See agréments French keyboard tradition, 92, 130, 178n147 French lute playing, 92 French national style, 76, 81 French unmeasured preludes, 84–85, 85, 92 Frescobaldi, Girolamo, 7, 91, 118, 142, 178n147 fringing, 93–94. See also staggered playing Froberger, Johann Jakob, 91, 91, 118, 142

Fundamentbuch (Buchner), 62, 115, 181n14 Gasparini, Francesco, 23, 142, 173n84 Geminiani, Francesco, 173n84 Gerber, Ernst Ludwig, 149n5 German composers, fingering for good and bad notes, 115 German national style, 76 geschnellte notes, 58 gestures, making, 13, 15–17, 20, 55, 106, 122 gewöhnliche, 77, 169n27. See also ordinary manner of playing ghost sound, 49 Gibbons, Orlando, 115, 142, 157n101 gliding technique. See stroking the keys Goldberg, Laurette, 155n62, 168n81 good notes, 114–115, 119 grace notes, 94–99, 119, 135, 178n144. See also agréments; ornamentation graceful playing, 1–2, 28, 36–37, 63, 111 Les Grâces (Duphly), 93 gravity, and touch, 52–53, 55 Griepenkerl, Friedrich Konrad, 53, 59, 142, 167n51 grimaces, facial, 14–18, 154n49 Häkkinen, Aapo, 66 Handel, George Frideric, 63, 76, 102, 126, 142 hands: on age to begin lessons, 5–6; agility of, 14, 31, 63, 102; aptitude of, 22; arch of, 24, 31, 36–37, 39; in arpeggios, 92–93; balance point, shifting to assist fingers, 53, 54, 55; calm hand, 15, 23, 25, 28, 33, 50, 62–63; care of, 21; cat’s paw position, 30–31; circulation, 25; contraction of, 15, 21, 55, 83, 130–133, 131–134; crossing of, 24, 29, 48–49, 126–127, 151n6; curvature of, 28, 30–39, 33, 39, 53; delicate skill of, 51–52, 112; extension of, 15, 21;

Index falling onto keys, 23, 26; fast hand, 20; to follow fingers, 29, 52, 54–55; formation of, 155n64; free from body, 25; guided by arms, 23, 29, 31, 48; and harsh physical labor, 21–22; heavy hand, 20; height of, 10, 29, 50; holding and moving, 2; lightness of, 19–20, 48, 52, 102; menial labor on, 6; men’s hands, 21–22; placement on keyboard, 22–23, 36; poised over one note, 54; poorly trained, effect, 24; position at the keyboard, 10, 14, 22–23, 27, 28– 31, 62–63, 158n102, 159n115; proper use of, 19; Rameau on, 3; relaxation of, 18, 20, 33, 75, 93, 125; rounded, 28–29, 33, 34, 63, 131; shape of, and comfort in fingering, 134; shifting weight over fingers, 53–54, 54; sideways motion, 62; sitting height and, 12; small hands, effect, 130; and soft quills for beginners, 7–8; strength of, 29, 46; stretching of, 45–46; suppleness of, 19, 28, 31; as support for fingers, 28–29; tension and, 18; weight, 52–53; women’s hands, 21–22; young students, 7–8 Hanon, Charles-Louis, 142 hardness, of playing, 20 harmonies: and agogic accents, 107; arpeggiated harmonies, 84, 88, 89, 90, 97, 173n84, 178n147; consonance, 71, 95; dissonant harmonies, 71, 95, 119; fundamental harmonies, 84–85, 85, 92; and good and bad notes, 114, 119; in legato playing, 84–85, 85; musical delivery and declamation, 106; nonharmonic passing notes, 92, 173n84; note value and, 109; opening harmony, 91; ornaments, and, 92, 97, 173n85; prolonging of, 90–92, 173n85; slurs in, 88, 89; in staggered playing, 93; sustaining by ornaments, 97; sweet harmony, 2

205

harpsichord: acoustics of, and stroking and perpendicular finger motions, 35, 38, 55, 59, 164n26; l’âme (soul), giving to, 104; for beginning students, 7–9; body, appearance and decoration of, 7; builders, 152n17; as complete instrument, 68; decaying tone of, 87, 90, 97, 173n81, 179n148; differences in, effect, 50; doublemanual keyboard, 7, 12, 65; dynamics and, 64–67; Flemish harpsichord, 7, 12, 113; French harpsichord, 7, 113; gravity, 52; Italian harpsichord, 7, 113, 152n13, 173n81; maintenance, basic skills, 50; ottavino harpsichord, 8, 152n13; playing on one register, 9; plectrum/plectra, 47, 50, 98, 151n7, 174n94; quills, 7–9, 151n7; and refinement of touch and expression, 68–69; registrations, 65, 151n6; regulating of, 50, 152n17; selecting, criteria, 6–10; single-manual keyboard, 7, 65, 151n6; slurs, considerations when playing, 90; and sustaining sound, 90–91; volume of sound, 64–66 The Harpsichord (Harich-Schneider), 80 Hartong, Philipp Christoph, 11, 19, 25, 86, 123, 142 head, 2, 13–14, 153n41 heaviness, 20 heavy (schwer) style, 75 height: Alexander Technique effect on, 154n41; of arms, 10; of hands, 10, 29, 50; sitting height, 11–13, 25–26, 29, 153n31; tone when key struck from height, 47–48, 164n26; of wrists, 29, 50 Henestrosa, Luis Venegas de. See Venegas de Henestrosa, Luis Hensel, Johann Daniel, 78, 142 Hickman, Hans, 159n115

206

Index

Hipkins, Alfred James, 143 Hodermann, Georg Caspar, 78, 143 Hole, William, 157n101 “How the Arm Must Guide the Hand” (Diruta), 24 Hüllmandel, Nicolas-Joseph, 83, 143 Hummel, Johann Nepomuk, 60 humming, 18 humors, 6, 150n4 hurdy-gurdy, 86

Italian national style, 76, 178n147 Italian toccatas, 98

iconography, 153n31, 158n102, 159n115 “Imitatio violistica” (Scheidt), 87 improvisatory pieces, 74, 85; French unmeasured preludes, 84–85, 85, 92; toccatas, 74, 91, 91–92, 98, 118–119, 118–119, 178n147 independence, of fingers, 9, 39, 44–45, 98, 136 inégal, 109, 178n147 Institutes of Music (Miller), 41, 41–42, 82, 82–83, 124, 124, 132, 132 Instructions for the Piano-forte or Harpsichord (Camidge), 130 instrument makers, 152n17 interconnectedness, of limbs and joints, 14 interpretation: articulation and, 70–110; of curved line notation, 85; and fingering choices, 113; flexibility in, 74; of musical pieces, 71, 110, 113; of slurred notes, 88 intervals: elbow and wrist movement when playing large intervals, 24; fingering, 21, 24, 71, 92, 115, 119, 128, 130–131, 183n48 Inventions (Bach, J. S.), 100 inversions, different, playing, 178n140 Le istitutioni harmoniche (Zarlino), 99 Italian harpsichord, 7, 113, 152n13, 173n81 Italian musical terms, 74, 76, 99, 176n110

Kapsperger, Giovanni Girolamo, 92, 143 key depth, 7, 9, 25, 50 key reaction, quilling effect on, 8 key size, 7–8, 39, 151nn11,12 keyboard: arms, position at, 23–26; beautiful manner of placing hands on, 36; body position at, 3, 10–13; chair, distance from, 10; distance between torso and keyboard, 10; doublemanual, 7, 12, 65; elbows, position at, 10, 12, 23–26, 29–30; German keyboards, 7; hands, position at, 22–23, 25, 28–31, 158n102, 159n115; little fingers, position at, 36; palms, position at, 24, 28–29; playing, vs. striking, 50; playing on different keyboard instruments, 66–69; portative organs, hand position for, 159n115; position at, 13; posture at, 13–18, 151n41, 153nn31,41, 155n64; single-manual, 7, 65, 151n6; sitting at, height for, 11–13, 25–26, 29; thumbs, position at, 22–23, 28, 37; wrist position at, 23–29, 27 keyboard instruments: for beginning students, 7–9; finger weight for, 3; multiple, effect of study on musicianship, 10; playing aspects applicable to all, 3; small instruments, 8 keys: constant contact with quill, string, 26, 47, 135–136; depressing of, 38, 47–49, 79, 109; distance between

jacks, 8, 107, 151n7, 152n17, 165n28; clavichordist, problem operating, 68 jeu coulant (flowing playing), 103, 166n37 le jeu françois, 81 joints, interconnectedness of limbs and, 14

Index fingers and, 83; distance to in detached playing, effect on, 83; dryer tone when key struck from height, 47; finger weight, 23, 26, 34–35; fingers, constant contact with, 34, 37, 47, 50, 104, 109–110; overlapping touch, 79; raised keys (accidentals), fingering for, 126–130, 127–129, 183nn40,44; release of, 35, 45, 58, 60–61, 65, 86–87, 100; small fingers, placement on, 26, 28, 37–38; sticking, causes, 48, 165n28; striking the keys, 11–12, 20, 40, 47–48, 60; stroking the keys, 9, 55–61, 56–57, 61–62, 107; thumbs, placement on, 26, 28, 35–39; touching, 8, 20, 23, 47–69, 54, 56–57, 61–62, 61–62, 65, 165nn28,29; worn key edges, 56, 57 Kirnberger, Johann Philipp, 143 Klavier, 3, 150n9 Klavier- und Fortepiano-Schule (Müller), 3 Klavierschule (Hensel), 78 Klavierschule (Löhlein), 16 Klavierschule (Türk), 1, 83 klebricht Spielart (notes held beyond value), 84 Kleine theoretische Klavierschule (Knecht), 102 Kleines Elementarbuch (Müller), 3 Knecht, Justin Heinrich, 102, 143 knees, 17, 44 knuckles, and wrist position, 29 Koch, Heinrich Christoph, 74, 99, 107, 143 Die Kunst das Clavier zu spielen (Marpurg), 173n84 Kurzer Unterricht für Musik-Anfänger (Hodermann), 78 labor, avoiding harsh, 21–22 Landowska, Wanda, 80, 143 Le Gallois, Jean, 1, 51–52, 86, 103–104, 144, 149n3

207

leaps, 72, 89; bad notes that leap, 114; hand to follow fingers, 29; little fingers in, 129; tendons and fingers in, 45–46, 125, 129; too quickly played, effect, 48 Lebègue, Nicolas, 144, 174n99 left hand, suppleness of, 22 legato: articulation and production of, 71, 80–87, 161n135; cantabile playing, 101; compared to legato, 77–80; and contraction of hand, 132; fast passages, release when playing, 61; finger exercises for, 82, 82–83; finger pedaling and, 80; finger substitution in playing, 84–85, 85–86, 171n62; fingering, 103, 103, 113; as flowing playing (jeu coulant), 103, 166n37; French style of playing, as feature of, 81; and good performance, 73; not part of basic touch/articulation, 72; and note length, 84–85, 109; over-legato, 65, 80, 83–84, 89; relaxation, 80; release in, 86–87; slurs, playing, 84–85, 87–90; and stroking the keys, 56; thumb use in, 83; as tied or equal touch, 81 leicht (light) style, 75 length: of arm, effect, 10; of fingers, uneven, effect, 32–33, 36–37, 151n12; of instruments, 7; from keyboard, 11; lengthened pose of body, 13. See also note length La Leon (Forqueray, A.), 93 Leonhardt, Gustav, 65–67 “less is more,” 136 lessons, 3, 8, 11, 19, 124, 150n9; age for beginning, 5–6, 46; hand position in, 63; single manual use in, 65; in treatises, 133; trills, introducing in, 46, 98; voice lessons, 14, 154n9; written by J. S. Bach, 43 Lettre . . . à Mademoiselle Regnault de Solier touchant la musique (Le Gallois), 1, 51, 86, 103, 149n3

208

Index

Lexicon (Walther), 99. See also Musikalisches Lexikon (Koch) “De la liaison” (Saint-Lambert), 89 liaison parfaite, 81 liaisons, 84, 88–89. See also slurs liberty, of fingers, 22 Libro de tientos y discursos de música practica (Correa), 80 Libro llamado arte de tañer fantasia (Sancta Maria), 23, 30, 111 light (leicht) style, 75 lightness: of fingers, 28, 45, 63, 71; of hands, 19–20, 48, 52, 102; of touch, 28, 67, 79 limbs, movement of, 13–15 Liszt, Franz, 11 little fingers. See small fingers “Little preliminary and essential exercises to arrive at playing well” (Couperin, F.), 41 “Little progressions appropriate for forming the hand” (Marpurg), 42 Livre d’orgue I (Nivers), 18, 100, 118 Löhlein, Georg Simon, 3, 16, 25, 60, 68–69, 73, 144 lombardic rhythms, 115, 178n147 Lowe, George, 157n101 lute, 20, 92 maintenance, basic skills, 50 Manfredini, Vincenzo, 14–15, 23, 25, 100, 144 manuals, registrations, changing, effect, 65, 151n6 Manuductio ad organum (Samber), 13, 37 Marpurg, Friedrich Wilhelm: about, 144; on acciaccaturas, 173n84; on accidentals (raised keys), 129; on age to begin lessons, 5; on Chambonnières, 104; on curvature of hand, 38; on detached playing, 102–103; on Duphly, 67; on dynamic expression, 64–65; on fingering, 83, 112; on fin-

gers flying upwards, avoiding, 50; on gestures, 15; on hand position, 29; on the harpsichord vs. clavichord, 67; on ordinary manner, 72, 77–78; on position at keyboard, 10–11; on position of feet, 13; on posture at keyboard, 17; on silences, 170n31; on sitting height, 12; on slurs, 83, 87; on soft quills for beginners, 7–8; on trills, 98; on warm-up exercises, 42; on wrist position, 29 Mattheson, Johann, 16–17, 144 meaningful playing, 66 “De la mechanique des doigts sur le clavessin” (Rameau), 44 Mein Junges Leben (Sweelinck), 121 menial labor, effect on hands, 6 men’s hands, suppleness of, 21–22 mental preparedness, 40, 104 Merbach, Georg Friedrich, 79, 144 Mersenne, Marin, 1, 20, 52, 144 Merulo, Claudio, 144 metronome markings, 74 mezzo-ottavino (quint-pitch instrument), 152n13 middle C, 11–12, 22 middle fingers: contact with keys, 117; curvature, 35–37; dexterity of, 134; drawn inward, 24, 34; fingering for, 36, 42, 113, 118, 121, 126, 134; and good and bad fingers and notes, 114– 115; middle fingertips, 37; stretching of in intervals, 21; stroking the keys, 62; wrist parallel with, 29 middle road (die Mittlestrasse) of playing, 79 Milchmeyer, Johann Peter, 84, 144 Miller, Edward, 41, 41–42, 82–83, 124, 124, 129, 132, 132, 145, 171n51 La Milordine (Couperin, F.), 85 minuet, touches for, 74 mordents, 19, 56, 58, 94, 106 mouth, movements of, 15–18

Index Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 76, 101–102 Müller, August Eberhard, 3, 60, 145 muscles, 15, 19, 21–23, 94 muselar, 113, 187n7; child ottavino of, 152n13 music: articulation and, 70–110; and expression, 64; grammar of, 70–71; memorizing, 46; and rhetoric, 70, 168n1, 169n20; singing, 101 music stand, removing, effect, 46 musical dictionaries, 76, 81, 91, 112, 158n105 musical expression. See expression musical instructions, 99–100, 176n110 musical keys, exercises, practicing in different keys, 41–42 musical language, understanding, interpreting, 71 musical phrases, 72, 78–79 musical phrasing, and differences in harpsichords, 113 musical terms, 74–76, 99, 176n110 musicality, and note lengths, 110 musicianship: effect of playing on different keyboard instruments, 69; and good performance, 73; multiple keyboard study and, 10 Musikalisches Lexikon (Koch), 74, 99, 107 “My staccato is always legato.” (Landow ska), 80 Nassarre, Fr. Pablo: about, 145; on accidentals (raised keys), 130, 183n48; on care of the hands, 21; on curvature of hand, fingers, 31–33; on depressing the keys, 48–49; on effect of menial labor on hands, 6; on finger size, 32–33; on fingering, 116, 181n17; on movement of arms, 13; on movement of limbs, 15; on playing neither connected nor detached, 77; on position at keyboard, 11; on posture at

209

keyboard, 13–14; on practice at keyboard, 46 national styles, 75–76, 81, 178n147 natural manner of playing, 32, 36, 52 New Instructions for Playing the Harpsichord, Piano-forte, or Spinnet (Anonymous), 24 New Tutor (Barthélemon), 13 Nivers, Guillaume-Gabriel: about, 145; on cantabile playing, 100; on curvature of fingers, 36; on demarcation and connecting of notes, 74–75; on fingering, 117–118, 118; on hand position, 155n64; on playing effortlessly, 18–19; on posture at keyboard, 155n64; writing on playing other keyboard instruments, 2 nonharmonic passing notes, 92, 173n84 non-legato, fingering of, 81 North, Roger, 93 notation: for accenting or prolonging notes, 109; of agogic accents, 107; curved lines, effect, 84–85, 85; imprecision of, 78; and inégal, 109, 178n147; note lengths, and timing of, 108–110; of silence, 105, 106; staggered playing, 93 note length: in agogic accents, 109; in arpeggiated chords, 119; in arpeggio, 92; contraction of hand, effect on, 131–132; in detached playing, 102–103; and inégal, 109, 178n147; in legato, 85, 109; notation for accenting or prolonging notes, 109; in ordinary manner, 79, 81; in ornaments, 95; resonating length of, 65; and rubato, 94, 109, 178n147; shortening for expression, 109; in silences, 106; in slurs, 88; and speed of release, 109; timing of, 108–110, 178n142,144,147, 179n148 notes: in broken chords, 87; crushed note (acciaccatura), 92, 173n84; de-

210

Index

marcation and connecting of, 74–75; detached notes, 72, 103–106; emphasized by agogic accent, 107, 178n140; final notes, release of, effect, 107; finger substitution for, 85; fingering for, 111–135; flow of, 51; overlapping of, 75, 84–85, 85, 87, 89, 171n59; pairs, 109, 178n147; preparing to play, 107; reiterating in toccatas, 91; resonating length of, 65; rounded notes, 78; in schwer and leicht styles, 75; and silences, 104–107; slurred notes, 72; staggered playing of, 93–94; strong and weak notes, fingering for, 114–120, 117–120; sustaining, curved lines as notation, effect, 84–85, 85; varied articulations and, 65 nuance, 64 Nurmi, Ruth, 60–61 Obras de música para tecla (Cabezón, H.), 20 Ogg, Jacques, 134 opening harmony, 91 ordentliche, 77, 169n27 ordinary manner of playing, 72, 77–80, 169n27 organ: chamber organ, 3; differing techniques for organ, harpsichord, 180n9; dynamics of, 65–66; finger position for, 32; finger strength for, 30; fingernails, avoiding using, 32; hand position for, 3, 32; heavy keyboard action, effect, 49; how sound is produced, 3; keys, pressing on, 47; and ordinary manner of playing, 77; portative organs, 159n115; and sustaining sound, 90–91; touch progress affected by use of, 10 ornamentation: accenti, 97, 175n102; acciaccaturas, 92, 173n84; agréments, 93; appoggiaturas, 94–96, 95, 98; appuyé (prepared, supported trill), 99; articu-

lation, 94–99, 106, 174n91; artistic license, 96–99; aspiration, 104–106, 105, 174n99; beautiful playing of, 94; cadence, 104, 177n129; chords, ornamenting of, 91–92; coulé (coulé sur tierce or tierce coulé), 102; détaché, 103, 105–106; finger substitution, 85; fingering, 84–85, 115, 135; harmony, filling out of, 92, 173n85; mordents, 19, 56, 58, 94, 106, 167n55, 183n44; port de voix, 96, 174n99; practicing, 43, 97–98; quiebro, 56, 58; redoble, 58; roulements, 123–124, 182n32; Schnellen, 58, 58; silences as, 104–107; silences d’articulation, 106; slides, 92; stroking the keys, 58; suspension, 93, 104–105, 105; techniques for playing, 56, 58, 94–99; tightness, avoiding in playing, 19; tremblement, 44, 106; tremoli (trills), 97, 175n102; trills, 43–44, 94, 97–98, 175n102; turn, 177n129; uses of, Türk, on, 99; Vorschläge, 95, 95 ottavino harpsichord, 8, 152n13 overlapping notes, 75, 84–85, 85, 87–88, 171n59 overlapping sounds, 56, 75, 77, 80–81, 95–96 over-legato, 65, 72, 79–80, 83–84, 89–90 oxygen, flow of, 17–18 paired fingering, 28, 113–114, 116–117, 117, 118–119, 121–123, 135 palms: curvature of, 38, 39, 53; opening, closing of, 130; peeling fingers towards, 34–35, 55, 59, 61, 107, 117, 164n26; pinky finger, 30; position at keyboard, 24, 28–29; sitting height and, 12; thumb under, 30, 124 Parsons, John, 53, 85, 145 Parthenia, or the Maydenhead (collection), 26, 27, 28, 157n101, 158n102

Index partitas, 126 Pasquali, Nicolò: about, 145; on accidentals (raised keys), 128; on arm, elbow position, 24; on artistic license, 133–134; on contraction of hand, 130–131, 131; on curvature of fingers, 37; on fingering, 124, 124, 128–129, 128–131, 131; on fugues on harpsichord, 179n148; on legato playing, 80–81, 109, 179n148; on note lengths, 109; on teaching children, 8, 151nn11,12; on thumb use, 124, 124, 128, 128, 129; on tone of harpsichord, 179n148; on wrist position, 29 passagework: in allegro, articulation of, 73; arpeggiated passages, 128, 178n147; artistic license in fingering, 135; detached notes, 72; fast passages, 22, 29, 55, 60–61, 81, 113, 126, 135, 169n27; improvisatory passagework, 85; leaping passages, 72, 89; in legato, 61, 85; and ordinary manner, 169n27; phrasing, 135; scale passages, 29, 49–50, 74–75, 86; slow passages, 56; slurred passages, 88–90; stepwise passages, 72; and stroking the keys, 60; strong and weak notes in, 119; thumbs, passing in passages, 81 passing nonharmonic tones, 92, 173n84 Pavana Lachrymae (Dowland, set by Byrd), 119, 120 pedagogues, 2, 4, 12, 69 Penna, Lorenzo, 115, 145 perfection, of touch, 44 performance: articulation and, 70–110; context, fingering affected by, 113; expression in, articulation for, 70–110; gestures during, 13, 15–17, 20, 55, 106, 122; good performance, elements of, 67–68, 73; listening to other musicians, 136; memorization and, 46; over-legato use, effect on, 72; period costume, effect on, 113; and playing

211

on different keyboard instruments, 66–69; poorly trained hands, effect on, 24; pre-performance testing of instrument, 73; release of final notes, effect of, 107; slurs, considerations when playing, 90; tonotechnie (performance reproducing machine), 106 performers: effect of playing on different keyboard instruments, 69; individual sense of style of, 4; and la douceur du toucher, 2, 4, 47, 52, 71, 136; ornaments, discretion in adding, playing, 174n91; role of, 71; selecting a harpsichord, criteria, 6–10, 152n17; slurs, considerations when playing, 90; tempo and dynamic changes, sensitivity of, 74 period costume, effect on performance, fingering, 113 perpendicular motion, 35, 38, 55, 59, 164n26 Perrine, Sr., 92, 145 Petites evolutions propres à former la main (Marpurg), 42 Petri, Johann Samuel, 24, 145 Petschke, Adolph Friedrich, 79 phrasing: articulation and, 70–110; and differences in harpsichords, 113; fingering for, 119, 122; of musical passages, 135; over-legato use, effect on, 72 physical labor, harsh, avoiding, 21–22 physical preparedness, 40 physical tension, effects of, 18 piano: Bösendorfer concert grands, 11, 152n21; detached playing on, 101–102; dynamics of, 3, 52; exercises on, effect on hands and fingers, 174n87; harpsichord articulation and, 65; holding notes beyond value, 84; keys, number of, effect on body position at keyboard, 11; legato playing on, 101; playing, effect on harpsichord

212

Index

technique, 168n81; sound production, gravity and, 52; touch progress affected by use of, 10. See also fortepiano piano (dynamic marking), 65 pianoforte, 3, 9, 69, 101 Piccinini, Alessandro, 145–146 Pièces de clavecin (Rameau), 26, 44 Pièces de luth en musique (Perrine), 92 pivot fingers, thumbs as, 126–127, 130 Plain and Easy Instructions for Young Performers on the Pianoforte or Harpsichord (Broderip), 3 A Plain & Easy Introduction to Harpsichord (Nurmi), 60 playing: according to the rules, 20; on age to begin lessons, 5–6; articulation and, 70–110; aspects applicable to all keyboard instruments, 3; basic touch in, 72; beautifully, 2, 4, 7, 51–52, 66; “belle manière du toucher” (a beautiful manner of playing), 166n38; in brilliant style, 51, 86, 101, 103–104, 113; cantabile playing, 99–101, 176nn110,116; choppy playing, 8, 81–82, 101, 108; comfort while playing, 19; contrasting shades, 65; convenience of the player, 37; delicate style of, 28; on different keyboard instruments, 66–69; diminutions, 47–49, 115, 181n12, 183n48; dynamics in, 64–66; energy, amount to play keys, 49; evenness of, 45; finesse in, 9; finger pads, using, 30–33; fingertips, avoiding using, 30–33, 37; flowing manner of, 51, 73, 104, 112; flowing ordinary manner of, 80; French national style of, 76, 81; fugues, suitability of, 179n148; German national style of, 76; graceful playing, 1, 18–19, 28, 36–37, 63, 111; gravity and touch, 52–53, 55; harsh manner of, 7–8, 20; intervals, fingers in extension when, 21; Italian national style

of, 76, 178n147; jeu coulant (flowing playing), 103, 166n37; and “la douceur du toucher,” 2, 4, 47, 136; leicht (light) style, 75; “less is more,” 136; listening to other musicians, 136; meaningful playing, 66; memorization, 46; muscular preparedness for, 23; muselar, 113, 187n7; music stand, removing, effect, 46; of national styles, 75–76, 81, 178n147; natural manner of playing, 32, 36, 52; in ordinary manner, 72, 77–79; of ornaments, 94–99; pairs of notes, 109, 178n147; personalized method, 4; preparing to play, 3, 5–39, 46; registrations, changing, effect, 65, 151n6; relaxation and, 18–23, 28; round manner of playing, 8, 61, 73, 78, 102, 112, 125; schwer style, 75; semidetached manner of playing, 108; sliding action of fingers, 35; smooth playing, 30; staggered playing, 93–94; standing at Flemish harpsichord, 12; sticky playing, 72, 79; stroking the keys, 9, 55–61, 56– 57, 61–62; in style brisé (broken style), 90, 92; suavity of, 2; sweet playing, 30; tasteful playing, 112, 122; tension and, 18; thumbs, using, 38; tightness, avoiding, 19; too much force, effect, 48–49, 164n26; touching the keys, 47–69; using different types of touch, 73; velocity, 43; vocal skills, emulating in, 100; voice leading in, 82. See also particular topics plectra/plectrum: action, 1, 10; connection with, 1, 33, 47–49, 151n7, 174n94; control of and dynamic contrasts, 98; and decay of sound, 90; described, 151n7; initiation of, 65; of muselar, 187n7; point, 9, 49, 173n81; quilling of (see quills, quilling); voicing of, 50 Pleyel, Ignaz Josef, 17, 146

Index port de voix, 96, 174n99 portative organs, 159n115 portato, 76, 78, 170n34 portraying the music, articulation and, 70–110 position: of arms, 10, 22–26, 36, 52, 55; of body, 3, 10–13, 24, 62, 159n115; calm hand position, 50, 62–63; cat’s paw position, 30–31; comfort, 10–11, 13, 22, 26; of elbows, 10, 12, 23–26, 29–30; of feet, 10, 12–13; finger position, 11, 22, 34; of forearms, 23, 25; hand position, 3, 7–8, 10, 14, 20, 23, 25, 27, 28–31, 33, 50, 62–63, 92–93, 158n102, 159n115; of little fingers, 31, 35–38, 117; at organ, 3, 32; of palms, 24, 28–29; relaxation and, 18–23; of thumbs, 22–23, 30–31, 34–38; of torso, 10–13; of wrists, 23–29, 27, 62–63, 159n115 posture: of body at keyboard, 13–18, 37, 153n41; and breathing, 17; comfort, 136; constrained, 22; distance between torso and keyboard, 10; elbow position, 24, 62; as foundation, 32; gently turned, effect, 17–18; hands and arms, 25; holding and moving, 2; of J. S. Bach, 14; position at the keyboard, 3, 10–13; posture, 13–18, 37, 153n41; relaxation of, 18–23, 153n41; stretching of, 40; tension, 18, 20, 40; tree imagery and, 14; unnecessary movements of, 18, 14; voice lessons and, 154n49 practice room, 41 practicing: of arpeggiation, 92–93; and artistic license in fingering, 135; détaché, 106; in different keys, 41–42; frequently, 136; ornaments, 97–98; perfect technique and, 45; slowly, 43; for success at keyboard, 46; trills, 43–44, 97–98, 182n29; warm-up exercises, 41–42

213

Praetorius, Michael, 111, 146 preludes: French unmeasured preludes, 84–85, 85, 92; slur used in, 90 Premier livre de clavecin (Lebègue), 174n99 Premier livre de pièces de clavecin (Couperin, F.), 105 Prencourt, F., 171n62 preparedness: mental, 40, 104; muscular, 23; physical, 40; preparing to play, 3, 5–39, 46, 107 pressing of keys, 20, 47–49, 52–53, 65, 165nn28–29 pressure, 88; of fingers, 32, 35, 49, 59, 69; on keys, 8; in rapid passages, 73; in slurs, 88; from thumbs, 23 Li primi albori musicali per li principianti della musica figurata (Penna), 115 Principes du clavecin (Marburg), 5, 83 Les principes du clavecin (Saint-Lambert), vii, 5, 89, 96, 123, 173n85 Principles of Music Calculated for the Pianoforte or Harpsichord (Hüllmandel), 83 pris, 81–82 “Progressions or short exercises to form the hands” (Couperin, F.), 41 Purcell, Henry, 94 pushing: keys, to key bed, 23; keys, “well down,” 56–57; of thumbs against each other, 23 Quantz, Johann Joachim, 60, 65, 73–74, 96, 146, 149n5, 167n58 quiebro, 56, 58 quills, quilling: for beginning students, 7–9, 19, 94, 151n7; connection with plucking action, 1, 26, 33, 47, 136; equal force of sound production, 64; ghost sound, producing, 49; playing slowly to feel quill plucking string, 9; plucking, control of, 29, 49, 52;

214

Index

plucking harshly, quickly, effect, 48, 164n26; resistance against strings, judging, 50; voicing of, 165n28 raised keys (accidentals), fingering for, 126–130, 127–129, 183nn40,44 Rameau, Jean-Philippe: about, 146; on accidentals (raised keys), 130; on age to begin lessons, 6; on aspiration and suspension, 105, 105; on contraction of hand, 131; on curvature of fingers, 37–38; on elbow position, 23, 26, 29; on exercises, 44–45; expertise on harpsichord, 2; on finger movement, 50, 62; on finger weight, 79; on grammar of music, 70; on hand position, 3, 28, 131; on hand weight, 52; on legato playing, 82, 82; on little finger position, 37–38; on movement of fingers, 14; on quilling for students, 8–9; on slurs, 87–89, 89; on smaller components guiding the larger, 29; on thumb use, 37–38, 82, 123–124, 182n31; on wrist movement, 63; on wrist position, 28–29 rapid passages, 73–74 rapid tempos, 72 recording: experiments, with tonotechnie, 106; of lessons, 154n49; of performances, 136 redoble, 58 registration, 9, 65, 151n6 Regole armoniche (Manfredini), 14 regulation, of tone, 35 relaxation: of body, 18–23, 153n41; comfort and, 22; and finger control, 21; of fingers, 38, 50, 92–93, 136; and graceful playing, 1; of hands, 33; in legato, 80; mordents, in playing, 19; of muscles, 15, 94; playing and, 18–23; and posture at keyboard, 17; relaxed hand position visualization, 20, 31; relaxed playing style, 28, 80; students

and, 19; of tendons, 15, 45, 125; touch and, 18–23; trills, in playing, 19, 94 “Relaxation and Avoidance of Heaviness and Extra Movement” (Cabezón, H.), 20 release: and agogic accents, 107–108; appoggiaturas, release tone of, 96; and cantabile playing, 100; curved lines as notation, effect, 84–85, 85; in fast passages, 61; of keys, 35, 45, 48, 60– 61, 65, 86–87, 100, 107, 109, 164n26, 178n138; in legato, 61, 81, 86–87; and light and unrestrained finger motion, 71; of notes, 109; palms, release towards, 60; in running passages, 60; of tension, 30, 40; towards the palm, 60 Rellstab, Johann Carl Friedrich, 69, 79, 109, 146 “Remarques” (Saint-Lambert), 123 repair, 152n17 repeated notes, 58, 91, 118–119 rests: articulation of, 71; in diminutions, 48; extending of, 108; purpose of, 106; as silence generally (see silences) retraction, 58 rhetoric, 70, 168n1, 169n20 rhythm, 70; cadence as, 177n129; dancelike rhythms, 180n9; dotted rhythms, 98; of hurdy-gurdy, 86; inaccurate, effect, 104; inégales and rhythmic alteration, 178n147; lombardic rhythms, 115, 178n147; long-short rhythm, 118; port de voix rhythmic application of, 174n99; rhythmic variation, 71 Ricci, Francesco Pasquale, 25, 39, 146 Rigler, Franz Paul, 84 Ross, John, 3, 146 roughness: of playing, 20; of skin, avoiding, 21 roulements, 29, 123–124, 182n32 round manner of playing, 8, 59–61, 73, 78, 102, 112, 125 rounded fingers, 38

Index rounded hands, 28–29, 33, 34, 63, 131 Rousseau, Jean, 86, 94, 112, 146 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 22, 146 rubato, 94, 109, 178n147 rules, playing according to, 20 running passages, 29, 60, 81, 126, 135 Saint-Lambert, Michel de: about, 147; on accidentals, 126–127; on age to begin lessons, 5–6; on agréments, 174n99; on appoggiaturas, 96–97; on artistic license, 96–97; on aspiration, 105, 174n99; on cadence, 177n129; on a calm hand, 62–63; on care of the hands, 21; on détaché, 105–106; on elbow, wrist position, 24; on finger position, 22, 37; on fingering, 123, 126–127; on harmony, filling out of, 173n85; on legato playing, 82; on playing scale passages, 49–50; on port de voix, 96, 174n99; on slurs, 88–89, 89, 90; on students, vii; on teaching, vii; on thumb use, 123, 126–127; on trills as exercise, 43–44; on wrist position, 28; writing about playing harpsichord, 2 Samber, Johann Baptist, 13, 25, 37, 147 Sancta Maria, Tomás de: about, 147; on accidentals, 126; on contraction of hand, 132, 132–133; on elbow position, 23; on finger curvature, 30–31; and finger substitution, 171n62; on fingering, 111, 116–117, 120, 121, 126, 181n17; on hand motion, 62; on hand position, 23, 30–31, 159n115; on monocordio (clavichord), 159n113; on stroking the keys in playing mordents, 56, 58; on thumb use, 120, 121, 126; writing on playing other keyboard instruments, 2–3 scales: demarcation and connecting of notes in, 74; finger motion for, 49–50; fingering for, 115, 118, 118–119,

215

123–124, 124, 127, 129; in legato playing, 86; overlapping harmonies, notes, effect, 75; playing, release of, 74; running scale passages, 29; and stroking the keys, 60 Scarlatti, Alessandro, 118–119, 118– 119, 124, 147 Scarlatti, Domenico, 99–100, 102, 118, 126, 147, 176n110 Scheibe, Johann Adolph, 147 Scheidt, Samuel, 87 Schlick, Arnolt, 147 Schnellen, 58, 58 Schubert, Franz, 101 schwer (heavy) style, 75 “scratch” technique, 55–56, 58, 167n55 seat, seating, 11–12, 17, 25–26 semidetached manner of playing, 108 sensitivity, multiple keyboard study and, 10 shading, dynamic, 64–65 shoulders, 29 silences: articulation of, 104–107; and aspiration and suspension, 104–106, 105, 174n99; as breathing, 106; in detached playing, 170n31; length, timing of, 108; and light and unrestrained finger motion, 71; in ordinary manner of playing, 78; purpose of, 106; silences d’articulation, 106 Silvains (Woodland nymphs) (Couperin, F.), 81 Sinfonias (Bach, J. S.), 100 singing, 14, 99, 101, 154nn9,49 singing style, 69, 99–101, 176nn110,116 single-manual keyboards, 7, 65, 151n6 sitting, at keyboard, 10–13, 17, 25–26, 29–30, 153n31 Six Little Preludes for Beginners (Bach, J. S.), 42–43 Sixième Ordre (Couperin, F.), 103 skill: increasing, 41; supported by good taste, 64

216

Index

skin, roughness of, avoiding, 21 slides, 92, 129 sliding action, 35, 38, 59 sliding technique. See stroking the keys slow passages, stroking the keys, effect, 56 slow pieces, suspension in, 105 slow tempo, and semidetached playing, 78 slurred notes: in adagio movement, 72; articulation of, 87–90; in broken chords, 88; compared to ordinary manner of playing, 77; of hurdygurdy, 86; playing, 84 slurs: in appoggiaturas, 96; articulation of, 87–90, 88; compared to ordinary manner of playing, 77; curved lines as notation, effect, 84–85, 85; demarcation and connecting of notes in, 74; finger exercises for, 82, 82–83; German violinists and, 87; legato playing of, 86–90; liaisons, 84; overlapping notes and, 87–88; playing, 83–85; to represent string instruments, 73 small fingers: in arpeggios, 129; and contraction of hand, 131, 133; drawn inward, 30–31, 34; fingering for, 114–116, 126–131, 133, 183nn40,44; in leaps, 129; under palm, 30; placement on keys, 26, 28, 37–38, 54; position of, 31, 35–38, 117; raised keys, for playing, 127–129, 127–130; in tremblements (trills), 44 smooth playing, 30 snapped notes, 58 softness: of dynamics, 59, 73, 75; of touch, 31, 48, 67 Solier, Mademoiselle Regnault de, 149n3 solo playing, 82, 112 Sonata BWV 1027 (Bach, J. S.), 95, 95 soul (l’âme), giving to harpsichord, 104

sound: beautiful sound, 85; brilliant sound, 59–60; created by stroking the keys, 59; decaying tone of harpsichords, 87, 90, 97, 173n81, 179n148; dynamics and, 64–66; harpsichord compared to plucked instruments, 52; legato and overlapping sounds, 80–81; muddy sound, cause of, 75; overlapping sounds, 75, 77, 80–81, 95–96; round sound, 59–60, 102, 125; sustaining with arpeggiation, 90–92 span, comfort, effect of thumb on, 125 Spanish keyboard tradition, 115–116, 132, 132–133 Spanish ornaments, 56, 58 sparkling effects, 55 speed: of articulation, 60; of attack, 47, 107; crescendo-diminuendo in trills, 97; on dropping finger on a key, 65; evenness of movement and, 45; of the hands, 20; of note release, 109; in playing, 43; of release, 65, 107, 109, 178n138; and stroking and perpendicular motion, 55; of trills, 97–98; in warm-up exercises by Miller, 42 Speer, Daniel, 147 Speth, Johannes, 19 spine, 17, 153n41 spinets, 8, 20, 52, 56–57, 151n11, 152n13 St. Cecilia, 157n101, 158n102 staccato: compared to ordinary manner of playing, 77–80; and detached playing, 101–102; and good performance, 73; of J. S. Bach, 59; not part of basic touch/articulation, 72; and note length, 170n31; production of, articulation and, 71 staggered playing, articulation in, 93–94 standing, at Flemish harpsichord, 12 stepwise passages, 72 sticky playing, 72, 79

Index stiff fingers: avoiding, 19–21, 82; technique using, 58, 103 stile cantabile, 99–101 stool, for seating, 12, 17, 153n31 strength: of fingers, 9, 30, 53, 68, 98, 136; of hands, 29, 46 stretching: of fingers, 19, 35, 38, 40, 45–46, 125, 129; general stretching of body, 40 striking the keys, 11–12, 20, 60; avoiding, 50; dryer tone when key struck from height, 47; sound made by, effect, 48 strings: connection with, 9, 26, 47, 49, 65, 136, 174n94; decaying tone of, 87, 90, 97, 173n81, 179n148; dryer tone when key struck from height, 47; ghost sound, 49; legato and overlapping sounds, 80–81; materials for, 7; remaining on, for playing ornaments, 94, 174n94; and resonating length of notes, 65; vibration, precise termination of, 109, 132 stroking the keys, 9, 55–61, 56–57, 61–62; and release of jack, 107 strong notes, 114–120, 117–120 students: on age to begin lessons, 5–6; and balance point of fingers, 55; calm hand position, training of, 50; constitution of, effect, 46; ensuring proper hand position, 33; feet, position of, 12–13; grace notes, playing, 94; hands of, 7–8; harpsichords for beginning students, 7–9; mordents, playing, 94; playing on different keyboard instruments, 66–69; quilling for, 7–9, 19, 94; and relaxation, 19; spinet, use by, 8, 151n11; trills, playing, 43, 94 Sturm und Drang, 15, 154n51 style: brilliant style, 51, 86, 103–104, 113; broken style (style brisé), 90, 92; changes in, and fingering, 113; from

217

clavichord playing, 69; coulant style, 86 (see also legato); delicate style of playing, 28; flowing style, 51, 83; individual sense of, 4; of music, expression and, 64; relaxed style, 28, 80 style brisé (broken style), 90, 92 suavity, 2 substitution, 46, 84–85, 85–86, 128, 171n62 subtlety: and fingering, 113; and suppleness of fingers, 120 Suite in A Minor (Purcell), 94 Sulzer, Johann Georg, 75, 102, 147 suppleness: of fingers, 7, 19, 120; of hands, 19, 21–22, 28, 31; of tendons, 5, 21–22; of wrist, 28 suspension, 93, 104–105, 105 Sweelinck, Jan Pieterszoon, 121 sweet harmony, 2 sweet playing, 30–31 sweetness of touch, 2, 20, 110 La Sylva (Forqueray, A.), 93 Syntagma musicum (Praetorius), 111 syntax, articulation to follow, 74 synthesizer, touch progress affected by, 10 Tabulatura nova (Scheidt), 87 Tanker og Regler fra Grunden af om Musiken (Thielo), 38 taste, good, 15, 64, 94–95, 106, 122 tasteful playing, 112, 122 tastes, changes in, and fingering, 113 teachers: author as, 3, 9, 94; avoiding grimaces and mannerisms, 15–16, 18; and balance point of fingers, 55; and exercises, 22, 46; finger contact with keys, 50; good hand technique, 19; good posture, 12; individual sense of style of, 4; introducing trills, 44, 94; and la douceur du toucher, 2, 4; as pedagogues, 2, 4, 12, 69, 135; proper hand position, vii, 33, 55, 63

218

Index

technique: agogic accents, 107–108, 178n140; all keyboard instruments, 3; arpeggios, 90–93; articulation and, 70–110; in brilliant style, 51, 103– 104, 113; cantabile playing, 99–101; clavichord, 23; composition, used to convey meaning of, 71; conclusions on, 136; détaché, 103, 105–106; detached playing, 101–104, 103; different keyboard instruments, 66–69; energy devoted to, 69; fingering, 111–135; good performance, 73; legato playing, 80–87; light and unrestrained finger motion, 71; mental preparedness and, 40, 104; note lengths, timing of, 108–110; ordinary manner of playing, 77–79; ornaments, 56, 58, 94–99; performed gracefully, 2; portative organs, 159n115; relaxation and, 23; silences, 101–107; slurs, 87–90; speed of, 47, 107; staggered playing, 93–94; tension in, effect, 20; for timing, 108– 110. See also particular topics tempo: changes in, performer’s sensitivity in, 74; clothing, effect of on, 113; and differences in harpsichords, 113; markings, 73–76, 99–100, 176n110; over-legato use, effect on, 72; rapid tempos, 72; and semidetached style of playing, 78; slurs, considerations when playing, 90 “Tempo and Expression Marks” (Fallows), 74 Ten. (hold). See tenuto tender pieces, 105 tendons: effect of menial labor on, 6; flexibility of, 6, 33, 46; of late started, badly taught players, 19; leaps, effect on, 45–46, 125; relaxation of, 15, 45, 125; straight fingers, effect on, 35; suppleness of, 5, 21–22; tension, in, effect, 18, 21, 35; wide stretches, effect on, 45, 125

tension: Alexander Technique and, 153n41; in body, 18, 20, 40; and breathing, 18; elasticity and, 46; in fingering, effect, 116; in fingers, avoiding, 19, 38, 75, 83; in hands, avoiding, 20, 75, 93, 125; necessary tension, 155n61; release of, 30, 40; straight fingers, effect on, 35; in tendons, effect, 21, 35; trapped, 18; unnecessary, avoiding, 23, 37, 125 tenuto, 75, 108 tessitura, changing of, effect, 178n140 text, articulation to follow, 74 Thielo, Carl August, 38, 147 thumbs: accidentals, for playing, 126–130, 127–129, 183nn40,44,48; articulation affected by position of, 36; and contraction of hand, 131, 133; curving into palms, 53; fingering and, 42, 42, 113, 120–130; general use of, 182n31; in legato playing, 83, 86; under palm, 30, 124; passing in passages, 81; as pivot fingers, 126–127, 130; placement on keys, 26, 28, 35–39; in playing figured base, 82; position of, 22–23, 30–31, 34–38; pressing on keys, 23, 53; raised keys, for playing, 126–130, 127–129; and span, comfort of, 125; in strong and weak beats, 114–118 tierce coulé, 92, 123 tightness, 19, 21, 63 timing: articulation of, 108–110; dynamics produced by, 65; and light and unrestrained finger motion, 71; note lengths, of, 108–110, 178nn142,144,147, 179n148; regulating of, for expression, 64 toccata: adagio in, 91; arpeggiation in, 91; arpeggios in, 92; chords in, 91, 91; fingering in, 118–119, 118–119; Italian, trill speed in, 98; notes, reiterating in, 91; performance styles, touches

Index for, 74; playing of, 91; trills in, speed of, 98 Toccata no. 1 in G Major (Scarlatti, A.), 118–119, 118–119 Toccatas (Frescobaldi), 178n147 tone: appoggiaturas, release tone of, 96; beautiful tone, 1, 4, 182n29; clusters, 126; contraction of hand and, 182n29; decay of, 87, 90, 97, 173n81, 179n148; detaching of, 75; diminished when key struck from height, 48, 164n26; dryer when key struck from height, 47; dynamics and, 64–66; and expression, 64; flow of, 127; good tone, 109; of Italian harpsichords, 173n81; linking successive tones, effect, 64; loudness of, 73; management of, 64; overlapping tone, 56; over-legato use, effect on, 72; passing nonharmonic tones, 92, 173n84; production of, 64; regulation of, 35; round tone, 125; in schwer and leicht styles, 75; and stroking the keys, 56, 60; sustaining of, 75; sweet tone on harpsichord, 20; sweeter, producing, 20; when key struck too quickly, harshly, 109 tonotechnie (performance reproducing machine), 106 torso. See posture touch: achieving proper touch with fingers, 19; basic touch in playing, 72; beauty of, 20, 44; “belle manière du toucher” (a beautiful manner of playing), 166n38; delicacy of, 47; on different keyboard instruments, 23, 66–69; la douceur du toucher, 2, 4, 47, 52, 71, 136; dynamics and, 64–66; evenness in instrument, 10; and expression, 64, 76; extremes of, avoiding, 79; and good performance, 73; good touch, 85, 160n124; gravity and, 52–53, 55; in leicht (light)

219

style, 75; “less is more,” 136; lifting of fingers, minimizing, 47–49; lightness of, 9, 28, 67; and meaning of Italian terms, 76; and national styles, 75–76; in ordinary manner of playing, 72, 77–79; overlapping, on keys, 79; perfection of, 44; posture and, 19; progress affected by other keyboard use, 10; refinement of on fortepiano and harpsichord, 68–69; relaxation and, 18–23; in schwer style, 75; “scratch” technique, 55–56, 58, 167n55; simultaneous touch, 87; for slurs, 87; and sticky playing, 72, 79; stroking the keys, 9, 55–61, 56–57, 61–62; sweetness of touch, 2, 31, 110; too light a touch, 79; too much force, effect, 48–49, 164n26; touching the keys, 3, 47–69, 54, 61–62, 73; warmup exercises, 41 Traité de la viole (Rousseau, J.), 94 Traité de l’accord de l’espinette (Denis), 20 Traité de l’harmonie (Rameau), 82 Il Transilvano (Diruta), 90, 97, 114 treatises: and arms and elbows, 23; and articulation, 71–72; and artistic license, 133, 135; Baroque treatises, 12; and cat’s paw image, 31; on choosing instrument, 7; and contraction of hand, 130, 132; and evolutions, 41; and fingering, 38, 112–114, 117, 120–123; French keyboard treatises, 2, 98; German treatises, 109, 115; and hand position, 23, 28, 30, 32; and legato, 84, 86; lessons in, 133; and motion of hands, wrists, 62; not limited to harpsichord, 2–3; and note length, 108–109; and ordinary manner, 77; for organists, 11; and ornaments, 97– 98; and relaxation, 18; and silences, 106; and slurs, 87, 90; and stroking the keys, 58; and touching the keys,

220

Index

47, 52; and turning of torso and feet, 17; and unnecessary body movements, 14; and wrists, 28 tree imagery, 14 tremblements (trills), 44, 104 tremoli (trills), 97, 175n102 trills: appoggiaturas preceding, 98; appuyé (prepared, supported trill), 99; artistic license in fingering, 135; cadence, 104, 177n129; crescendodiminuendo of, 97; dynamics in, 97; expression and articulation of, 94; fingering for, 115, 182n29; playing, relaxation of muscles, 19, 94; practicing of, 43–44, 97–98, 182n29; to sustain harmonies, 97; tremblements (trills), 44, 104; tremoli (trills), 97, 175n102; as warm-up exercises, 43–44 Türk, Daniel Gottlob: about, 147; on accidentals (raised keys), 128–129, 183nn40,44; on agogic accents, 107; on beautiful tone, 1; on care of the hands, 21; on clavichord, 3, 9, 31, 150n9; on curvature of fingers, 35; on elbow position, 25; on execution of different types of pieces, 76; on facial expressions, 16; on fingering, 112, 126, 183nn40,44; on grammar of music, 70–71; on hand position, 25; on note lengths, 108–109; on ordinary manner of playing, 77–79; on ornaments, 99; on ornaments, trills as warm-up exercises, 43; on playing on different keyboard instruments, 67; on playing over-legato, 83–84; on position at keyboard, 10, 12; on relaxation and finger control, 21; on schwer and leicht styles, 75; on slurs, 88; on thumb use, 35–36, 126, 128–129; on touch and national styles, 75–76

Unterricht im Klavierspielen (Wolf, G.), 28, 109 upper mordents, 56

unmeasured preludes, French, 84–85, 85, 92

Die wahre Art das Pianoforte zu spielen (Milchmeyer), 84

velocity, in playing, 43 Venegas de Henestrosa, Luis, 116, 147–148, 181n17 venue, considerations when playing slurs, 90 versatility, multiple keyboard study and, 10 Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (Quantz), 60 Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen (Bach, C. P. E.), 8, 34, 109, 112, 120, 167n55 vibrato (bebung), on clavichord, 68 violin, imitatio violistica, 87 violinists, German, 87 virginal, 26, 27, 157n101; Dutch virginal school, 121; English virginal school, 115, 121, 123; legato in repertory for, 81; muselar, 113, 187n7; repertory for, 81, 113, 121; and thumb-under fingering, 113; trills played on, 98; types of, 152n13 visualizations, 14, 20, 31 vocal music, 118; artistic license in, 98– 99; emulating in playing, 100; tempo and dynamics in, 74 voice leading, 82 voice lessons, 14, 99, 154n49 voicing: by builder, 152n17; key action and, 165n28; maintenance, basic skills, 50; of plectra, 50; of quills, 165n28 Vollkommene Kapellmeister (Mattheson), 16 volume, and good performance, 73 Vorschläge, 95, 95

Index Walther, Johann Gottfried, 99 warm-up exercises, 4, 22–23, 40–46, 41–42 weak notes, 114–120, 117–120 wedge marks, for agogic accents, 107 Wegweiser (Speth), 19, 155n64 weight: arm, hand weight not to affect fingers, 52–54, 54; finger weight, 3, 52–53, 79 wide stretches, 45, 125, 129 wind instruments, tongued syllables for playing, 71 Wolf, Ernst Wilhelm, 148 Wolf, Georg Friedrich, 28, 34, 69, 76, 84, 103, 109, 148 women’s hands, 21–22

221

wrists: agility of, 29; and contraction of hand, 133; flexibility of, 29, 38, 50, 63, 117, 133; to follow hands, 29, 52; height of, 29, 50; holding and moving, 2, 63; portative organs, position for, 159n115; position at keyboard, 23–29, 27; position when hands are in motion, 62–63; rotation when fingers peel toward palm, 61; suppleness of, 28; tension and, 18; tree imagery and, 14 yema, 31 yoga, and posture at keyboard, 13 Zarlino, Gioseffo, 99, 148

Yonit Lea Kosovske holds a Doctor of Music degree in Early Music from Indiana University Jacobs School of Music, where she studied harpsichord and other historical keyboards with Elisabeth Wright. She has given master classes in the United States and South America and has performed as a soloist and chamber artist in major cities throughout the United States, Israel, Hong Kong, Spain, and South America. She teaches harpsichord and piano in a private studio and has taught at Indiana University. She has recorded several CDs, the most recent of which are Keyboard Music of Girolamo Frescobaldi (Focus, 2010) and La Gracieuse: French Chaconnes, Passacailles, and Preludes (La Douceur, 2010). Upcoming recordings include a CD of Romantic Spanish music for voice, fortepiano, and guitar with Canto Romántico. For more information, visit her website: www.yonitkosovske.com.

Historical Harpsichord Technique

Recommend Documents