It is not often that Paderewski has expressed his thoughts on his art, but by careful research I have come across a few interviews here and there which have something of value in them, and, I think, are worth quoting. Again I must quote Mr. Henry T. Finck, an enthusiastic admirer, who can speak with first-hand authority of the pianist's musical faith. His taste, we are told, is remarkably catholic. "He likes Grieg's songs better than his pianoforte works, while Brahms's piano pieces, as he once said to me, hardly exist for him! 'They seem all treble and bass!'[2] But he admires the chamber music of Brahms. His worship of the romantic Chopin, Liszt and Schumann does not interfere with his enjoyment of the classical Mozart and Beethoven. He adores Bach and Schubert, and at the same time he is a thorough Wagnerite. To hear 'Parsifal' or 'Tristan,' he says, you ought to go to Bayreuth; for the 'Meistersinger' to Vienna, for 'TannhÄuser' to Dresden; while of 'The Flying Dutchman' the best performance he ever heard was at a small German city of thirty thousand inhabitants. This catholicity of taste compares strangely with Rubinstein's rather limited enthusiasms." There are certainly few pianists who have shown so eclectic a taste in their playing as Paderewski has always displayed. It would be difficult, indeed, to decide from his interpretations what composers appeal to him most, for while at one moment you are ready to declare that no pianist can surpass him in a performance of the music of Liszt and Chopin, at the next a singularly noble and sensitive interpretation of a Beethoven sonata will compel you to place Paderewski as the most sympathetic player of Beethoven in the world. But this aspect of the pianist's gifts may be more conveniently dealt with in the next chapter.

In the few public utterances he has made on his art, Paderewski has at once paid a tribute to his instrument, and has emphasised the enormous difficulty in becoming a master of it. "Assuredly the piano is the greatest of musical instruments," he once exclaimed. "Its powers, who has yet been able to test them to the full? Its limitations, who shall define them? No sooner does one fancy that nothing further can be done to enhance its possibilities than inventive ability steps forward and gives to it a greater volume, a more velvety smoothness of tone." On another occasion he said of the piano: "It is at once the easiest and the hardest. Any one can play the pianoforte, but few ever do so well, and then only after years and years of toil, pain, and study. When you have surmounted all difficulties, not one in a hundred amongst your audience realises through what labour you have passed. Yet they are all capable of criticising and understanding what your playing should be. Any one who takes up piano-playing with a view to becoming a professional pianist has taken on himself an awful burden. But better that than the drudgery of giving pianoforte lessons. The one is only purgatory, but the other—hell!"

Of course Paderewski has not made teaching a serious part of his career since he became famous as a virtuoso, but at least one pupil of his, Mr. Ernest Schelling, has made public appearances, and in his early days Paderewski knew what teaching meant. To a London evening paper[3] he once gave the benefit of his experience. He was particularly severe on the teaching professed by young girls who, having had a superficial training, endeavour to turn their limited talents to effect when a living has to be earned or supplemented.

"To teach or to learn to play the piano or any other instrument we must commence at the beginning. The pupil must first be taught the rudiments of music. When those have been mastered he must next be taught the technique of his instrument, and if that instrument be the piano, or the violin, or the harp, or the violoncello, the muscles and joints of the hands, wrists, and fingers must be made supple and strong by playing exercises designed to accomplish that end. At the same time by means of similar exercises, the pupil must also be taught to read music rapidly and correctly. When this has been accomplished she should render herself familiar with the works of the masters—not by having them drummed into her by her instructor, but by carefully studying them for herself; by seeking diligently and patiently for the composer's meaning, playing each doubtful passage over and over again in every variety of interpretation, and striving most earnestly to satisfy herself which is the most nearly in harmony with the composer's ideas. The chief aim of every teacher of the pianoforte should be to impart to his pupils a correct technique and to enable them to play any composition at sight with proficiency and correctness; but how much, or rather how little of this kind of teaching is practised by many so-called music teachers? Many really competent music teachers have assured me that of all the pupils who came to them from teachers of lesser reputation to be 'finished' there is not one in ten who has ever been taught to play all the major and minor scales in all the various keys."

Paderewski insisted on the necessity of amateurs learning compositions by heart, and was careful to point out that the pupil must not be made mentally weary by over-practice. "Physical weariness from too much practice," he added, "is just as bad as mental. To over-fatigue the muscles is to spoil their tone, at least for the time being, and some time must elapse before they can regain their former elasticity and vigour." On the importance of a healthy muscular system to the pianist Paderewski wrote at some length in a magazine.[4]

"It is highly desirable that he who strives to attain the highest excellence as a performer on the pianoforte should have well-developed muscles, a strong nervous system, and, in fact, be in as good general health as possible. It might be thought that practice on the pianoforte in itself would bring about the necessary increase in muscular power and endurance. This, however, is not altogether the case, as it sometimes has a distinctly deteriorative effect, owing to the muscles being kept cramped and unused. The chief muscles actually used are those of the hand, the fore-arm, neck, small of the back, and the shoulders. The latter only come into play in striking heavy chords for which the hands and arms are considerably raised from the keys; in light playing the work is chiefly done from the wrists, and, of course, the fore-arm muscles which raise and lower the fingers. It is not so much that greater strength of muscle will give greater power for the pianoforte, but rather that the fact of the muscle being in good condition will help the player to express his artistic talent without so much effort. To play for a great length of time is often very painful, and you cannot expect a player to lose himself in his art when every movement of his hands is provocative of discomfort, if not actual pain. Sometimes, indeed, a great amount of playing brings on a special form of complaint known as 'pianist's cramp,' which may so affect the muscles and nerves that the unfortunate artist thus afflicted finds his occupation gone. I have frequently found that though, whilst playing, I have experienced no trouble from my muscles being overtaxed, afterwards the reaction has set in, and I have had no little exhaustion of the shoulders and neck, and I have also suffered from severe neuralgic pains affecting the nerve which runs from the head and conveys impulses from the brain to the deltoid muscle. Weakness in the small of the back has been by no means uncommon."

As to the higher side of pianoforte teaching, Paderewski thinks that all theoretical teaching is a mistake, "for when you have reasoned out an effect you have lost that over which you have reasoned? You must teach the student to feel." There must be no hard and fast rules. All depends on the mood and the atmosphere. And that appears to be the spirit of the teaching of Leschetitzky, the master of Paderewski.