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Updated: June 14, 2025
From time to time he struck a few chords upon the grand piano, and gave forth a song of his own composition in loud and passionate tones, varied with, very sudden effects of extreme pianissimo, which occasionally surprised some one who was trying to make his conversation heard above the music. There was a little knot of people standing about the door of the great drawing-room.
MELIHOVO, November 21, 1895. Well, I have finished with the play. I began it forte and ended it pianissimo contrary to all the rules of dramatic art. It has turned into a novel. I am rather dissatisfied than satisfied with it, and reading over my new-born play, I am more convinced than ever that I am not a dramatist. The acts are very short. There are four of them.
"Na na!" he cried, "Was that F, I ask you? You bellow like bulls! Again again, I tell you! On the D and approach the note softly. "Hist-st! Pianissimo!" He stamped his foot in vexation and the baton struck the desk sharply: "Again the sopranos alone! Hist! Piano piano I say! Potztausend!" The chorus glanced at one another sheepishly and a flush crept over the faces of the sopranos.
The forêtier of today still goes to the woods chanting the Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre which his ancestors caroled in the days of Blenheim and Malplaquet. When the habitant sang, moreover, it was in no pianissimo tones; he was lusty and cheerful about giving vent to his buoyant spirits. And his descendant of today has not lost that propensity.
"I hope I shan't break anything," murmured Azalea, accepting a dish-towel. The Skeptic took another. "Oh, no," he assured her. "That delicate touch of yours why, I never heard anybody who could play pianissimo legato cantabile like you. You wouldn't break a spun-glass rainbow." Azalea did not break anything.
After the thunder and the lightning comes the still, small voice. Who ever before thought of comparing the roar of the swiftly passing motor-cars with the sweet singing of the stationary bird? Was there ever in a musical composition a more startling change from fortissimo to pianissimo? Listen to the iron-horns, ripping, racking, Listen to the quack-horns, slack and clacking.
She dropped on her knees before the window and began to sing, still gazing at the wheel, the doves all about her, pianissimo on the lower note of the scale, singing up, and then in arpeggios; each note distinct and separate like the link in a chain, pure, soft, hardly above a breath. As she sang, her voice rose gradually, deepening and increasing in power.
Her voice is itself an instrument of music, and she plays upon it as a conductor plays upon an orchestra. One seems to see the expression marks: piano, pianissimo, largamente, and just where the tempo rubato comes in. She never forgets that art is not nature, and that when one is speaking verse one is not talking prose.
Those nests and lines of guns that seemed to be simply sending shells into the blue from their hiding-places played fortissimo and pianissimo under his baton. He correlated their efforts, gave them purpose and system in their roaring traffic of projectiles. Where Sir Douglas Haig was schoolmaster of the whole, he was schoolmaster of the guns.
Sometimes fortissimo, sometimes pianissimo; now vivace, now largo; but ever those same two lines, and ever followed by the same low, rumbling laugh; still to this day the iron wheels sing to me that same song. Later on I also must have slept, for I dreamt that as the result of my having engaged in single combat with a dragon, the dragon, ignoring all the rules of Fairyland, had swallowed me.
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