Scan 30
Musical Courier 1895-06-05: Vol 30 Iss 796, 1895
33 lines. Read by computer on 23 September 2026, twice; the two readings disagreed in places. Printed page 31. See the scan on archive.org.
1Oscar Neumann's Enterprise.
3OSCAR NEUMANN, THE MUSICAL COURIER'S representative at Leipsic, Germany, has issued a handsome pamphlet of 146 pages, containing a series of articles, in both English and German, which have appeared from time to time in THE MUSICAL COURIER. The object of the pamphlet is to acquaint the music trade in England and the United States with the true state of affairs in the Saxon manufacturing districts.
5The author's own observations, as well as the sources from which he sought help for the compilation of the work before us, will give it authority and evoke interest in the history of the Saxon musical instrument manufacturing districts, especially those of Markneukirchen, Klingenthal and Leipsic. The pamphlet also has an article on "The Different Characteristics in Construction and Tone of Mechanical Musical Instruments," with descriptive illustrations. Mr. Neumann's pamphlet will be sent in England and the United States to all the principal houses interested in musical merchandise.
7Plants and Pianos.
9TO enlarge on the above topic in a journal designed exclusively for the delectation of members of the music trades may savor of supererogation. Practical men who live abroad in climates where pianos require irrigation, rather than desiccation, as in Great Britain, assuredly know by experience all that is to be learned on the subject. To the English public on the other hand, who fail to realize that such possessions as pianos require more consideration than they frequently get, the text of this article may appear invested with the attraction of novelty. Yet, inasmuch as the million, despite all that is said of musical progress, purchase pianos chiefly because the furnishing of a house is considered incomplete without such an adjunct, it is to be feared that no editor of a popular newspaper or magazine would insert an article on "the advisability of placing plants near pianos." one of two readings
10TO enlarge on the above topic in a journal designed exclusively for the delectation of members of the music trades may savor of supererogation. Practical men who live abroad in climates where pianos require irrigation, rather than desiccation, as in Great Britain, assuredly know by experience all that there is to be learned on the subject. To the English public on the other hand, who fail to realize that such possessions as pianos require more consideration than they frequently get, the text of this article may appear invested with the attraction of novelty. Yet, inasmuch as the million, despite all that is said of musical progress, purchase pianos chiefly because the furnishing of a house is considered incomplete without such an adjunct, it is to be feared that no editor of a popular newspaper or magazine would insert an article on "the advisability of placing plants near pianos." one of two readings
12The pianist takes everything for granted. His piano has 200 strings, and they do not break; ergo, they ought not to break. The piano stands well in tune three or four months at a time; it's getting out of tune is, therefore, a cause for complaint! There is little regard by the pianist for his instrument. He tolerates it, pounds it; but he does not love it. As for devoting half an hour a day to contemplating and dusting it, carefully wiping its keys, seeing that it is kept at a proper temperature, clearing off books and other impedimenta from its top, and so on—that would be a wicked waste of time! Now, how different is a violinist's feeling toward his instrument. It gives him no end of trouble; for the strings are continually breaking; he has to be forever tuning them up; and, then, there are many minor matters which need constant thought, such as the rosining of the bow, attention to the sound post, taking care the bridge is in its proper position and that the finger board does not become loose. These details, rather than being a trouble to the player, endear his instrument to him. The fiddle appears an animate rather than an inanimate object; and when, in playing, he holds it firmly under his chin and becomes sensible of its heart beats or pulsations—be he ever so vile a player—he knows his instrument has life.
14Of those who learn the piano because it is a proper thing to do it cannot be denied that the majority regard the apparatus as a mere mechanical "box of wires," which, when shut up, is less useful than a side board. Pianos would be more intelligently cared for were this not the case, and musical instrument sellers would be less generally worried than they confess they are with trivial and senseless fads of self-sufficient or crotchety customers. As the latter are not likely to wish to emerge from that chrysalis state of ignorance which betokens bliss, they would scarcely, under the circumstances, take sufficient interest in the structure of pianos to read any controversy on the subject; and this the editor of the public newspaper intuitively knows. It therefore rests with members of the trade themselves to diffuse by word of mouth a popular realization of the contention that a musical instrument, be it piano, violin or organ, possesses what the musician might call an artistic soul, an attribute entitling it in various ways to careful treatment. This by way of preamble. In an American journal something like the following paragraph recently appeared:
16THE FLUID PROBLEM.
17PEARSVILLE, Ma., 1st April, 1895.
18Editors Transatlantic Oracle:
19I was annoyed to discover a tank of water inside my new upright piano yesterday. As it was placed there by our tuner, I should like to know your opinion of such a proceeding. Yours faithfully,
20X. X. X. X.
22[It is advisable to keep a drinking trough, with a stick of sulphur in it, near every piano nowadays, in case of hydrophobia; because it is impossible to foretell what may be the effect on the pianist when murdering some kinds of modern music. Whether the trough is placed inside or outside is immaterial. Keeping a potted plant in the room is highly recommended. So long as one of these delicate organisms can thrive on a diet of fourteen hours a day piano strumming, there is every reason that an iron frame piano should do likewise. It is interesting to observe how much more water a plant requires when kept near a piano than it does when there is no piano within earshot. Further, you will note how quickly foliage will dry up when, for example, Wagner's compositions are played. A dose of Brahms has been known to exhaust the stoutest rubber plant within twenty minutes, whereas under the influence of a Beethoven sonata a reverse effect has been occasioned, for the plant in question has then become quite droopical.—Ed.]
24The gentleman whose inquiry brought forth the above reply, acting on the advice of the Transatlantic Oracle, forthwith moved into his piano room a shrub which soaked up half a pint of water daily. That evening, to his amazement, he found it absorbed no less than 50 gallons! This, he concluded, was an indication that the new instrument had been remarkably well seasoned. He was on the point of writing an unsolicited testimonial to the Oracle for its kindly advice, when the resident on the flat underneath bounced in in a rage, exclaiming that his valuable bric-a-brac had been deluged, because the 50 gallons had escaped through a hole in the tub and a corresponding rat-hole in the floor!
26The reader will, perhaps, question the accuracy of the above paragraph, and the anecdote which succeeds it, and to most Englishmen it will seem ridiculous to assert that foliage plants can, under any circumstances, be of actual benefit to pianos. In England, owing to our humid climate, it may not be realized all at once that a piano here requires precisely the reverse kind of treatment to what it does in an exceedingly dry country. Our insular position gives us, during the hottest weather, an unlimited supply of vapor in the air. In the islands of the tropics, such as Ceylon, where the superheated air of the day rapidly cools at night, the frequent result is that the surface of a piano is next morning covered with a heavy dew. A parallel phenomenon occurs, however, in the British Isles, when in some country houses during a severe winter the high temperature in a drawing room, after the family have retired to rest, is allowed to fall below freezing-point, the upshot being that when the housemaid comes to dust next morning she finds the piano, owing to the condensed atmosphere sublimating upon its surface, actually coated with hoar frost. But in this world there are many unreasonable individuals.
28Those who keep their rooms at abnormal temperature and delight to have a copper kettle puffing out steam like an express engine two or three hours every afternoon, are often quick to express indignation when informed that the strings of the new piano are becoming rusty. To such people it is of little use suggesting that the thermometer they hang behind their street door might serve a better purpose if suspended near the piano. In a humid climate like that of England, the most unimaginative member in the piano trade understands the desirability of keeping a musical instrument absolutely dry. Over here the "plant" question does not apply. Of this, however, an English lady reader of the Transatlantic Oracle was unmindful. Thinking to do her piano good she placed beside it not merely one potted plant, but the entire contents of her conservatory! English gentlemen often profess an ignorance of music, when spoken to about the piano; but every man of education is interested i. books. If an unmusical piano owner, then, is told to treat his instrument as he would a valuable book, he understands the situation at once and does not go far wrong.
30What is wanted in this climate is to distil moisture from pianos, rather than to irrigate them. Yet in keeping an instrument dry, there is no need to build a baker's oven beneath it; and even as exhalations of gas spoil the bindings of books, so are gaseous fumes apt to rust the strings of a piano. Electricity is therefore preferable to gas for illumination purposes. And just as a rare volume is religiously guarded against the depredations of moth or mice, or is periodically looked at to insure its not falling into premature decay, so should a piano be regularly and carefully inspected. If pianos occasionally suffer from damp in England, that is as nothing compared with what they have to endure when located in places isothermal with the swamps of the Congo, or the sweltering jungles of the Malay Peninsula.
32Under such conditions the strings of the best piano have a tendency to rust, actions have a tendency to develop asthmatical sounds, keys to decline to respond, wood to swell, hammer shanks and hammer felts to mutiny, wrest pins to stick and ivories to grow jaundiced in their endeavors to fall off. Conceive the idea of adding to the moisture of a piano so situated! A stove kept constantly alight beside the instrument to subtract the moisture is more beneficial. But there is a vast difference between air so saturated with water and air containing no moisture whatever. Perfectly dry air is scarcely to be met with outside of a chemical laboratory. "The vapor of water," says Dalton, "and probably of most other liquids, exists at all temperatures in the atmosphere." He also sets forth that two or three vapors will act toward one another as vacua when their liquids have no affinity. Yet in many parts of the world air is so dry that extraneous evaporation is undoubtedly necessary for the well being of a piano. The exhalations of at least a whole conservatory of potted plants around a single piano may possibly be needed in certain parched up States of the American Union, to say nothing of the Tibetan desert of Chang-Tang, the worst parts of the great South African Karroo or the inland
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.