, when in a
Mendelssohn Fugue, I found I had forgotten a small portion. I could
remember what went before and what came after, but this particular
passage had seemingly gone. I went down to the little parlor and tried
the fugue on the piano, but could not remember the portion in question.
I hastened back to my room and constructed a bridge which should connect
the two parts. When the time came to play the fugue at the recital, it
all went smoothly till I was well over the weak spot, which, it seems, I
really played as Mendelssohn wrote it. As I neared the last page, the
question suddenly occurred to me, what had I done with that doubtful
passage? What had really happened I could not remember; and the effort
to recall whether I had played Mendelssohn or Stojowski nearly brought
disaster to that last page.

"As soon as my season closes here I shall go to London and bring out my
second piano concerto with the London Symphony Orchestra, under Nikisch.
I shall also play various recitals."

It was my good fortune to be present at the orchestral concert at
Queen's Hall, when Mr. Stojowski was the soloist. It was pleasant to
see the enthusiasm aroused by the concerto itself, and the performance
of it by the artist.

V

RUDOLPH GANZ

CONSERVING ENERGY IN PIANO PRACTISE

[Illustration: Rudolph Ganz]

"One of the most necessary things is the conserving of vital energy in
piano practise," said the pianist Rudolph Ganz to me one day. "The wrong
way is to continually practise the piece as though you were playing it
in public--that is to say, with all possible energy and emotion. Some of
the pianists now before the public do this, and it always makes me sorry
for them, for I know what a needless waste of energy and vital force it
is. An actor, studying his lines, does not need to continually shout
them in order to learn how they should be interpreted. Neither does the
lyric actress practise her roles with full tones, for she is well used
to saving her voice. Why then should the pianist exhaust himself and
give out his whole strength merely in the daily routine of practise? I
grant this principle of saving one's self may not be easy to learn, but
it should be acquired by all players, great and small. I think a
pianist should be able to practise five or six hours daily without
fatigue. If the player is accustomed to husband his vital force during
the daily routine of practise, he can play a long, exacting program in
pu