Le Génie d’ Execution: accents, style, and Natural taste
As mentioned in chapter 2, the ability to recreate the intention of the composer, ‘Genius of execution’, was a new skill that any respectable performer ought to have.
The 18th century saw the rise of the 'doctrine of the affections' (Affektenlehre): the use of certain identifiable and, to some extent, standardised musical artifacts for arousing passions and expressing emotions.
In the 19th century, composers already used more detailed notational indications, usually providing a more specific description of character and tempo. Thus, the ability to grasp at a glance the genius of the composer and reveal it to the public with ease and precision was essential.
To help the violin student in this task, Baillot states that musical character “can be divided into four principal oneswhich serve as the source of the others1". These are: simple, naïve (including such variants as semplice, pastorale); vague, undecided (vivace, agitato); passionate, dramatic (appassionato, militare); calm, religious (tranquillo, religioso).
The “martial” character appears under the third accents “passionate: dramatic.” Baillot notes that the four accents “correspond naturally to the four ages of life and the general progression of the human soul2” suggesting that the martial character is achievable only at a stage of quite some spiritual maturity.
Furthermore, Baillot insists that the manner of expression for each piece should be according to the particular accent, what he refers to as ‘style’. He highlights the importance of the flexibility that a player must attain to enter into all styles, which can only be achieved by studying each composer and imitating each model, without fear of being an emulator. He is confident that, in doing so, the talented pupil will adopt the style most attuned to his sensibility, ultimately building a unique style of his own that expresses his originality.
However, he warns that this originality should never be a goal in itself. He believes that natural taste must be the judge to prevent originality from turning into extravagance. This taste seems to be an innate quality, not always acquired through instruction: “It proceeds the process of thought and, without knowing it, always chooses well; (...) the best lesson in taste is not the one that the teacher gives but the one that the pupil can learn for himself”.
Stowell claims that Baillot's insistence on strict time-keeping while allowing for some freedom of expressive effect within the confines of the pulse reflects the general view of most theorists of the time. Then, Tempo rubato was a device to take some freedom for an expressive melodic effect, which often was considered a species of ornament.
There were several ways of implementing this: according to Stowell, theorists up to Cartier mention the familiar 17th and 18th-century concepts of good notes (note buone), and (note cattive), indicating that the good should be kept slightly longer than their written value, and bad notes should be shortened to compensate.
Baillot goes beyond that, although these concepts are most likely implicit in the basis of the discussion in the following paragraph:
There is a way of altering or breaking the pulse which derives from syncopation and is called tempo rubato o disturbato, stolen or troubled time. This stole time is very effective but it would become by its very nature tiring and unbearable if it were used often. (...) We say that he only appears to lose the sense of pulse, that is he must preserve a sort of steadiness that will keep him within the limits of the harmony of the passage and make him return at the right moment to the exact pulse of the beat. (...) Often a beautiful disorder is an artistic effect3.
Another way to use the stolen time would be an example shown by Woldemar; he shows his extravagant tiratas as his signature ornaments in his exercises. As excessive as it might look, it illustrates a common practice at that time: expanding the bars to incorporate more notes than the time signature theoretically allowed; moreover, it is also a very clear example of the use of portamento and glissando.
Stowell4 compiled some quotes by Spohr in his Violinschule (1832), which looked befitting to the performance of a Concerto, as it is our case:
As a concerto is performed in a large hall before many listeners and accompanied by an extensive orchestra, the requisites include above all a full, powerful tone. This, however, in no way precludes the more delicate nuances of performance. (...) In concerto playing the most thorough training in technique must be allied also to an interpretation full of sensibility, since without this the most brilliant playing will excite only cold admiration, never a more intimate sense of participation.
Any dwelling on single or several notes (Tempo rubato), which is so effective in solo playing, must be avoided here. (...) Accentuation must be limited to the normal practice of accenting the strong beats of the bar. (...) Similarly, the orchestral player must confine himself to the precise observance of p and f as marked, and must not add new nuances of loud and soft on his own account as in solo playing, (...) Further recommendations for the orchestral player are: to refrain from all superfluous appoggiaturas, turns, trills, and the like, and similarly all contrived position-work, sliding from one note to another, changing the finger on one note, in short, to avoid everything that pertains simply to the embellishment of solo playing and would disturb the smoothness of the ensemble.
All the prohibitions in ensemble performance would apply in the opposite way to solo performance: all these "bad habits" would become positive and even recommendable qualities to stand out as an exceptional individual in solo performance.