By Mrs. Norman O'Neill
In half an hour we are to glance down the ages and hear typical pianoforte pieces of the last three centuries.
Domenico Scarlatti's bright and vigorous short pieces were written before the times of the modern four-Movement Sonata. In his day 'Sonata' was a term applied to an instrumental piece, as distinct from a 'Cantata,' or vocal piece. Scarlatti, born in the same year as Handel, met his contemporary at Venice and became his close friend and admirer. The two competed at Rome in keyboard performance. As Harpsichordists they tied, but on the Organ, Handel was declared the finer player.
Schumann's little piece is cast in 'Canon' form - that in which a tune is propounded by one voice or part, and echoed by one or more others, a few notes behind, all the way through.
A Hundred years ago people hardly thought of a Study as a piece for concert performance. A Study, as its name implies, was a technical exercise. Some particular feature in which pianists were likely to want practice would be taken and a little piece written round this feature, using it over and over again. What Chopin did may be stated in a few words. He took the dry exercise and turned it into poetry. Schumann, who championed Chopin's music so warmly, said of the Thirteenth Study (Op. 25, No. 1) that 'such things cannot be described, still less fitly praised.' Chopin himself, however, did describe it to a pupil. He said he thought of a little shepherd taking refuge in a peaceful grotto from an approaching storm.
Everyone knows Debussy's excellence in delicately imaginative and pictorial music. Most of his sketches are impressionistic, and we need little more than the title to help us to conjure up the scene which the composer has endeavoured to translate into musical terms. Whether he is recalling the sound of a steadily-falling, gentle rain shower, the glorious purple and fragrant scent of the heather, or the goldfish darting and splashing in their pool, lie stimulates the imagination with assured art.
It is probably not commonly known that Gustav Holst, composer of operas and colossal choral and orchestral works, set out as a boy to become a pianist, but was soon prevented by early signs of neuritis. He has written very little for the piano, so far as we know; but a few years ago was published this toccata, a brilliant and thoroughly pianistic piece founded on a tune for the Northumbrian Pipes. He gives the tune out absolutely unadorned, then subjects it to all kinds of racy, dashing treatment.
