reflex: I move with the music in an unconscious translation of it into
gesture. It is all so individual. The French violinists as a rule play
very correctly in public, keeping their eye on finger and bow. And this
appeals to me strongly in theory. In practice I seem to get away from
it. It is a matter of temperament I presume. I am willing to believe I'm
not graceful, but then--I do not know whether I move or do not move!
Some of my friends have spoken of it to me at various times, so I
suppose I do move, and sway and all the rest; but any movements of the
sort must be unconscious, for I myself know nothing of them. And the
idea that they are 'prepared' as 'stage effects' is delightful!" And
again Elman laughed.


LIFE AND COLOR IN INTERPRETATION

"For that matter," he continued, "every real artist has some mannerisms
when playing, I imagine. Yet more than mannerisms are needed to impress
an American audience. Life and color in interpretation are the true
secrets of great art. And beauty of interpretation depends, first of
all, on variety of color. Technic is, after all, only secondary. No
matter how well played a composition be, its performance must have
color, _nuance_, movement, life! Each emotional mood of the moment must
be fully expressed, and if it is its appeal is sure. I remember when I
once played for Don Manuel, the young ex-king of Portugal, in London, I
had an illustration of the fact. He was just a pathetic boy, very
democratic, and personally very likable. He was somewhat neglected at
the time, for it is well known and not altogether unnatural, that
royalty securely established finds 'kings in exile' a bit embarrassing.
Don Manuel was a music-lover, and especially fond of Bach. I had had
long talks with the young king at various times, and my sympathies had