Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-03-21

comic advice with an air of great earnest
ness, 1t is far better to make an I'M
pleasant impression, than to make no inn
preston at all. z"
Naturally, young musicians jOurneyed
from all quarters for the privilege of study
ing with him. To them, spurred, doubtless,
by some very bad varieties of playing, he
gave advice often bristling with sarcasm.
To good, talented students, what he said
mattered little, as long as they had the in
estimable advantage of his teaching; they
learned to look for his caustic expressions,
in fact, almost as part of the lesson s
routine, and treasured them sufficiently to
put them later on paper. For years yet
to come there is small doubt that anec-
dotes of Won Biilow will continue to crop
out in print, as one after another of his old
pupils complies some biographical frag-
ment.
OF his opinions of pianos, quite as hui
morOus things might be recorded as any
he may have said to his pupils; for he was
as utterly regardless of feelings, and as
fearlessly honest in what he said of makes
and makers of his chosen instrument.
Truth with him was possessing mania,
and if he felt he had not told it COM
pletely, he was willing to return and as
sert that which at previous moment he
had, perhaps, forgotten.
This is sentence on which he laid the
stress of italics when he wrote it: That
sound and touch of the Knabe Pianos are
more sympathetic to my ears and hands
than sound and touch of any other pianos
in the United States"
One of the most amusing episodes of
Won Bulow's life happened at Milan when
Luigi Erba, wealthy musician, and at
one time first piano teacher at the Milan
OF INV tod hYpn
sons to meet him at an evening party at
his palace near the Porta Garibaldi.
Eight, half-past eight, nine, o'clock
struck but there came no Won Bulow.
At the musicians hotel the embarrassed
Erba's messenger was advised to try
noted German restaurant not far away;
maybe he was there And there he was,
seated at table with few congenial spirits,
engaged with few beer mugs and few
cigars. The invitation had entirely es-
capped him.
At last he arrived at the Erba Palace,
full two hours late. Outwardly suave and
had awakened, and not without respect
able-sized irritation of his own at being
torn from congenial colleagues, he seated
himself at once at the piano.
Cold-blooded and leisurely, he struck
few chords, as was his custom, to fix atten-
ton and bring the entire company to-
gether
Suddenly he shouted in faultless Italian,
Ladies and gentlemen, l will now play
some Beethoven,-the Sonatas opus 1O1,
opus LOG, opus 100, opus 40, and opus
ll1,-just little" People gazed at one
another in horror at the prospect; but al
ready Won Bulow was playing. And, true
to his announcement, he kept on playing
until he had finished every sonata
Meanwhile, one by one, the guests had
crept away, unable to support the occa-
sion Only few courageous ones still
fingered when he had finished Then, ris-
ing, suave and calm, he looked about him
at the depleted company. L fear" he
said in clear tones Il fear that our
friends are not fond of Beethoven"
Then he said goodnight and left. But
for years afterward Just little" was a
joke among musical people in Milan.
But the great artist will have his moods;
without them he would fall short of being
great artist at all.
To express those moods, endless and
various he must have a perfect instru-
ment, of supreme qualities, on which to
express them Otherwise the most ardent
and subtle of his efforts will be in vain.
Fearless, relentlessly honest, deter
mined always to be upright and truthful
IN oil fhiprc xnp Ri;1nu,,c oh