Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Long-Suffering Accompanist

We return from a brief hiatus to present this crucial musical observation on the the merits of support vs. fame.

By Dr. Annie Patterson

The art of playing “second-fiddle" is at all times a difficult and thankless one. It takes a philosopher to realize the hidden truth that lies beneath Shakespeare’s Coriolanus having preferred “a place below the first.” Fame, at which it is natural most public artists should aim, is connected mainly with solo work of some description. In a sense, this is right and proper. But that those who so effectively serve to beautify and adorn solo work, and without whom the most attractive solo would sound lacking and bald, should so frequently go without recognition or be dismissed with scant courtesy, calls for reform. The efficient concert accompanist belongs to this class.

The Accompanist's Requirements

First, let us briefly consider the duties which fall to, say, a pianoforte accompanist. He must be, in the first place, an accomplished musician. No point in theoretical and executive knowledge should be unknown to him, no mark of expression beyond his comprehension. He should be familiar with all styles of vocal music, whether in oratorio, opera or of a purely lyrical nature. Technically, he should be expert at interpreting all kinds of accompaniments, and this often at first sight. Nor does his art end there. He needs to be able to adapt himself to the idiosyncrasies of particular singers, supporting the nervous and uncertain, and generally accommodating the ofttimes elastic ideas which many vocalists have about time and pace in the rendering of a song. At the basis of such adaptability lies the very necessary possession of a quick and sympathetic intelligence, which anticipates rather than waits upon the wishes of the solo performer.

 If we reverse the picture, and consider what are the acquirements of the individual soloist, the marvel of  the fully accomplished accompanist's all-around facilities grows upon us. The accompanist has to take his chances often in reading a complicated or badly manuscripted score. Vocal slips, hurried tempi, missed bars, are of frequent occurrence on the singer's part, and they generally pass without notice or comment. If the luckless accompanist errs similarly, the criticism of soloist and listeners seldom fails to be his lot.

The Accompanist's Trials 

By these remarks we do not claim an invidious distinction for one type of artist over the other. We would only plead for equal sympathy with and recognition for the respective talents of each. Seeing that modern accompaniments are bristling with difficulties, singers should give an accompanist every facility for previous rehearsal for the sake of all concerned. Frantic requests to transpose at sight, when the performers are actually coming upon the platform, should not be made unless under the most urgent circumstances. Some respect should be shown to the accompanist in the matter of asking him to play from tattered or badly manuscripted scores, and this especially when every facility exists for the purchase of well-printed sheet music. Organizers of concerts might also consider the one who “presides” at the piano more than they do. A good instrument is as essential for an accompanist as for solo playing. Dusty keys, low, unadjustable seating accommodation, bad light, and unwieldy or unstable music desks are some of the many impediments with which accompanists are continually wrestling. The writer has frequently known of a spotless handkerchief having to be whisked surreptitiously across grimy or clammy keyboards, an appeal for side candles during the course of a performance, or the amusing episode of an outdoor wrap or coat serving for an impromptu cushion! All this shows lack of the true organizing spirit, and is, in short, culpable want of thought upon the part of those who are responsible for the well-ordering of musical entertainments.

A Question of Consideration and Courtesy

If we think, at a single concert for example, how often the accompanist comes upon the platform - in a program of, say, eight vocal items not counting concerted numbers, from twelve to fourteen times if we allow for encores - the mere physical exertion, the constant strain, deserves our admiration and respect. Usually all this is done with the most sincere good-nature and obliteration of self. Plaudits are loud and vociferous; but the accompanist stands aside. Applause is not for him or her. Recalls are frequent and urgent, but who thinks of giving an accompanist an encore? In how far the encore is brought about by the skill and self-possession of that very accompanist seldom enters the mind of even the best disposed of singers. Now and then a gracious vocalist will thank, and thank heartily, some one who has afforded a most fitting framework to a charming picture. This little courtesy never fails to please and encourage. It cannot be paid too often.

The Law of Compensation

But apart from all these considerations that call for reform, the accompanist has his compensations. The task, even in its subordinate character, is a pleasing one. Those who are adepts get honestly fond of their work. They, perhaps, more than even the public or the singers themselves enter into the inner beauties of the compositions which they interpret, for the simple reason that they see them from a very full point of view. Think, for instance, what a study of artistic adaptability are the accompaniments of Schubert’s divine songs! To give the requisite spirit of terrific rush and tense anguish to the “Erl-King,” or the needful delicacy to the framework of “The Linden Tree,” needs the soul and ardor of the true musician. A good accompanist can convey, imperceptibly as it were, this love and pride in a work to the singer, and so feel, even if unnoticed, that his or her devoted playing has shared in earning the meed of applause addressed to the soloist. On a grander scale still comes the work of the accompanist of concerted and choral music, the massive achievements of our great church organists, and, in an extended sense, the massed effects of all well-constituted orchestras. “A place below the first" by no means indicates inferiority. It is rather the hallmark of excellence to fill such a position effectively and contentedly. Soloists themselves are recommended to cultivate this side of their art if it were but occasionally to enter into the very special joys thereof. Only the singer who can, when required, play his or her own accompaniment, gets a fair view of all sides of a fascinating picture.

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