DOI issue:
No. 12 (March, 1894)
DOI article:Awards in "The Studio" prize competitions, [2]
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17189#0238
Awards in " The Studio" Prize Competitions
, volume of duets be placed upon it; while the
lighting is, as a rule, so awkwardly contrived that
the light is either too far off to afford half the illu-
mination it should yield, or else so dazzling to the
eyes of the player that the printed pages between
seem comparatively obscure.
Yet some of the early pianofortes—the old
square, the cottage, and even the grand—survive
to show that it has been done well. If space per-
mitted one might illustrate some really beautiful
Wornum and early Broadwood pianos, or, going
farther back, many an old harpischord and spinnet.
But in early pianos no massive iron framing like
that required to-day hampered the designer, who
was free to adopt graceful proportions, which
would be inadequate for the structure we now know.
Therefore to attempt to design cases on these
models were obviously futile, and the artist who
shall succeed in making the pianoforte a thing of
beauty, has a superlatively difficult task before
him.
Some practical reasons for the poor average
observable in the designs of modern pianos are
" toby "
obvious enough. The pianofortes are chosen for
their musical qualities, and a music-lover rightly
prefers good mechanism and fine tone to a beauti-
ful piece of furniture. Nor is there one absolute
226
ideal of excellence; consequently the case must
needs be an average sort of design, that will not be
sufficiently rigid in its style to cause its rejection
" LONGSHANKS "
on that score if the tone of the instrument pleases
the purchaser. The piano in oak, by Mr. Cave
(before mentioned), pleasant as it would be among
furniture of a quasi-ecclestiastical style, would be
inharmonious in a white "Adams" room as much
as a white and gold piano would be amid carved
oak furniture and a sombre key of wall decora-
tions. It may be asked why the piano should not
be bought as an instrument, and its casing added
to suit the purchaser. Economic reasons are
against this. Any one who examines the instru-
ment will see that the case is hardly an added
shell, but almost a part of the structure itself. This
is, of course, quite right aesthetically, yet it is a
hindrance in another way.
Assuming then that the pianoforte and its case
—like a well-bound book and its binding—are
from the first planned together, one sees that they
can seldom be made to order. The time involved,
not to mention the increased cost, and the doubt
as to the quality of tonei which will ultimately
result, puts this out of the question for ordinary
purchasers. There is yet another reason—namely,
that the pianoforte is not a piece of furniture
(even theroretically), that ripens and improves by
age. Apart from the finality of perfection in its
mechanism being still in the future, it ages rapidly,
and musicians rank its life for a very few years.
They will tell you that one by this maker is in its
prime for five years, another for more or less; but
the most commonplace pianist knows that a score
of years will see the best instrument a thing of no
account—a mere tinkling machine for school-
girl practice, or third-rate amateurs to strum.
Therefore, despite its cost, despite its arrogant
importance as the most prominent feature in a
room of average size, it is not, like mantelpieces,
fine cabinets, tables, or chairs, a possible lease-
holder, to age with the home itself, but a mere
lodger—a tenant, at most—for a few years, to be
sold at a loss and replaced by a new one.
Then we find, the less out of the common its
case appears, the better chance it has of finding a
second-hand purchaser, and this certain fate in
, volume of duets be placed upon it; while the
lighting is, as a rule, so awkwardly contrived that
the light is either too far off to afford half the illu-
mination it should yield, or else so dazzling to the
eyes of the player that the printed pages between
seem comparatively obscure.
Yet some of the early pianofortes—the old
square, the cottage, and even the grand—survive
to show that it has been done well. If space per-
mitted one might illustrate some really beautiful
Wornum and early Broadwood pianos, or, going
farther back, many an old harpischord and spinnet.
But in early pianos no massive iron framing like
that required to-day hampered the designer, who
was free to adopt graceful proportions, which
would be inadequate for the structure we now know.
Therefore to attempt to design cases on these
models were obviously futile, and the artist who
shall succeed in making the pianoforte a thing of
beauty, has a superlatively difficult task before
him.
Some practical reasons for the poor average
observable in the designs of modern pianos are
" toby "
obvious enough. The pianofortes are chosen for
their musical qualities, and a music-lover rightly
prefers good mechanism and fine tone to a beauti-
ful piece of furniture. Nor is there one absolute
226
ideal of excellence; consequently the case must
needs be an average sort of design, that will not be
sufficiently rigid in its style to cause its rejection
" LONGSHANKS "
on that score if the tone of the instrument pleases
the purchaser. The piano in oak, by Mr. Cave
(before mentioned), pleasant as it would be among
furniture of a quasi-ecclestiastical style, would be
inharmonious in a white "Adams" room as much
as a white and gold piano would be amid carved
oak furniture and a sombre key of wall decora-
tions. It may be asked why the piano should not
be bought as an instrument, and its casing added
to suit the purchaser. Economic reasons are
against this. Any one who examines the instru-
ment will see that the case is hardly an added
shell, but almost a part of the structure itself. This
is, of course, quite right aesthetically, yet it is a
hindrance in another way.
Assuming then that the pianoforte and its case
—like a well-bound book and its binding—are
from the first planned together, one sees that they
can seldom be made to order. The time involved,
not to mention the increased cost, and the doubt
as to the quality of tonei which will ultimately
result, puts this out of the question for ordinary
purchasers. There is yet another reason—namely,
that the pianoforte is not a piece of furniture
(even theroretically), that ripens and improves by
age. Apart from the finality of perfection in its
mechanism being still in the future, it ages rapidly,
and musicians rank its life for a very few years.
They will tell you that one by this maker is in its
prime for five years, another for more or less; but
the most commonplace pianist knows that a score
of years will see the best instrument a thing of no
account—a mere tinkling machine for school-
girl practice, or third-rate amateurs to strum.
Therefore, despite its cost, despite its arrogant
importance as the most prominent feature in a
room of average size, it is not, like mantelpieces,
fine cabinets, tables, or chairs, a possible lease-
holder, to age with the home itself, but a mere
lodger—a tenant, at most—for a few years, to be
sold at a loss and replaced by a new one.
Then we find, the less out of the common its
case appears, the better chance it has of finding a
second-hand purchaser, and this certain fate in