Day 202 MCAT Practice Question

Passage 4

Some years ago the Director of the Leipsic Conservatorium gave the writer a

complete record of the number of graduates of the conservatory from the founding

to the late nineties. Of the thousands of students who had passed through the

institution only a few had gained wide prominence. Hardly one student in one

hundred had won his way into the most voluminous of the musical biographical

dictionaries. The proportion of distinguished graduates to those who fail to gain

renown is very high at Leipsic compared with many other institutions. What

becomes of the thousands of students all working frantically with the hope of

becoming famous pianists? Surely, so much earnest effort can not be wasted

even though all can not win the race? Those who often convince themselves that

they have failed go on to perform a more useful service to society than the laurelcrowned virtuoso. Unheralded and unapplauded, they become the teachers, the

true missionaries of Frau Musik to the people.

What is it then, which promotes a few “fortunate” ones from the armies of students

all over America and Europe and makes of them great virtuosos? What must one

do to become a virtuoso? How long must one study before one may make a début?

What does a great virtuoso receive for his performances? How long does the virtuoso

practice each day? What exercises does he use? All these and many more similar

questions crop up regularly in the offices of music critics and in the studios of

teachers. Unfortunately, a definite answer can be given to none, although a great deal

may be learned by reviewing some of the experiences of one who became great.

Some virtuosos actually seem to be born with the heavenly gift. Many indeed are

sons and daughters of parents who see their own demolished dreams realized in

the triumphs of their children. When little Nathan creeps to the piano and quite

without the help of his elders picks out the song he has heard his mother sing,—

all the neighbors in Odessa know it the next day. “A wonder child perhaps!” Oh

happy augury of fame and fortune! Little Nathan shall have the best of instruction.

His mother will teach him at first, of course. She will shape his little fingers to the

keyboard. She will sing sweet folk melodies in his ear,—songs of labor, struggle, exile.

She will count laboriously day after day until he “plays in time.” All the while the little

mother sees far beyond the Ghetto,—out into the great world,—grand auditoriums,

breathless crowds, countless lights, nobles granting trinkets, bravos from a

thousand throats, Nathan surrounded by endless wreaths of laurel,—Oh, it is all too

much,—”Nathan! Nathan! you are playing far too fast. One, two, three, four,—one, two,

three, four,—there, that is the tempo Clementi would have had it. Fine! Some day,

Nathan, you will be a great pianist and—” etc., etc.

Nathan next goes to the great teacher. He is already eight years old and fairly

leaping out of his mother’s arms. Two years with the teacher and Nathan is probably

ready for a début as a wonder child. The critics are kind. If his parents are very

poor Nathan may go from town to town for awhile being exhibited like a trained

poodle or a tiny acrobat. The further he gets from home the more severe his critics

become, and Nathan and his mother hurry back to the old teachers, who tell them

that Nathan must still practice long and hard as well as do something to build up

his general education. The world in these days looks askance at the musician who

aside from his keyboard accomplishments is a numskull. More sacrifice for Nathan’s

mother and father,—but what are poverty and deprivation with such a goal in sight?

Nathan studies for some years in the schools and in the high schools as well as at

the conservatory. In the music school he will doubtless spend six years in all,—two

years in the post-graduate or master classes, following the regular four-year course.

When sufficiently capable he will take a few pupils at a kopeck or so per lesson to

help out with the family expenses…

Unfortunately, the number of virtuosos who have been taught exclusively in America

is really very small. It is not a question of ability upon the part of the teacher or

talent upon the part of the pupil. It is entirely a matter of the attitudes of the

teacher, the pupil and the pupil’s home advisers. Success demands strong-willed

discipline and the most lofty standards imaginable. Teachers who have taught for

years in America have returned to Europe, doubled and quadrupled their fees, and,

under old-world surroundings and with more rigid standards of artistic work, have

produced results they declare would have been impossible in America. The author

contends that these results would have been readily forthcoming if we in America

assumed the same earnest, persistent attitude toward the work itself. If these

words do no more than reach the eyes of some of those who are advising students

wrongly in this matter they will not have been written in vain. The European concert

triumphs of Mrs. H. H. A. Beach, whose training was received wholly in the United

States, is an indication of what may be achieved in America if the right course

is pursued. Conditions are changing rapidly in our country, particularly in the

wonderful West and Middle-West. It seems likely that many pianists without foreign

instruction of any kind will have as great success in our concert field as have many

of our best opera singers who have never had a lesson ‘on the other side.’

Cooke, J. F. (2009). Great pianists on piano playing: Study talks with foremost

virtuosos. Project Gutenberg. (Original work published 1913)

The author’s attitude towards Leipsic graduates who do not become virtuosos

can be best described as…

A) Remorseful and conservative

B) Patronizing and objective

C) Disinterested and careless

D) Hopeful and sincere