Tobias Matthay (1858-1945)

Tobias Matthay at 12 — Despite his grown-up appearance, Tobias Matthay was only 12 in this photo, taken in 1870 to commemorate his entry into the RAM as the first recipient of the hallowed William Sterndale-Bennett Scholarship.

The Royal Academy of Music on Tenterden Street — For over 40 years, this building housed the institution Tobias Matthay regarded as "my musical mother." The Royal Academy of Music occupied these modified townhouses on London's Tenterden Street from its earliest days in 1822 until the present building opened in 1911.

TOBIAS MATTHAY was born into Victorian England at a propitious juncture in history, because many in Europe and America were then embracing "science" as though it were a new form of religion. As a boy, he could not help but be fascinated by the works of Darwin, Faraday, Maxwell and others, and as he once told the Musical Times, he maintained a “dual interest” in music and science throughout his life, which “enabled him to bring the methods of science to bear upon the technical and musical problems of pianoforte playing.” Born in the South London district of Clapham to German naturalized parents, Matthay was fluent in German from early childhood, which later enabled him to read the writings of Helmholtz and others without benefit of translation. Though his father had trained as a physician in Germany, he was a respected German tutor in England, and as Matthay once recalled, "he demanded I be recht gründlich (quite thorough) in everything I did." He also communicated a respect for science and the scientific method, so no doubt when the time came for organizing and systematizing a subject as complex as piano playing, the task no doubt seemed for him a natural endeavor.

Sir Arthur Sullivan — In 1875, when he began guiding the composition studies of the teenaged Matthay, Arthur Sullivan was far more famous as an orchestral composer, because his partnership with W. S. Gilbert had barely begun. Matthay found Sullivan a far more demanding taskmaster than Bennett, as he constantly implored his students to "take your coats off to the job."

In the late nineteenth century, Britain's most famous musician was pianist and composer Sir William Sterndale-Bennett, once a confidante of Mendelssohn and Schumann. By 1870 he was also serving as Principal of the Royal Academy of Music, thus it was a high honor for the 12-year-old Tobias Matthay to receive the Academy's first Sterndale-Bennett Scholarship, which guaranteed him an entry into Bennett's composition class. The 17-year-old Matthay was heartbroken when Bennett died unexpectedly at the age of 59, but he quickly found solace when the Academy hired his late professor's most famous pupil, Arthur Sullivan. Matthay was enthralled to work under Sullivan's guidance for nearly three years, for although he always sought to refine his piano skills, he was then far more interested in composition. In fact, when the Academy appointed him only as a piano professor in 1880, he was disappointed, because he most wanted to teach composition.

Matthay, his "Initiates," and his Students

Years later, Matthay recalled that, "England was playing the piano very accurately at the time—but very placidly." But in the spring of 1886, he experienced an epiphany when three of the greatest living European pianists, Franz Liszt, Anton Rubinstein, and Hans von Bülow arrived in London in close succession, and for the rest of his life he always termed this trio his "Great Initiates."

Matthay's Initiates — Anton Rubinstein, Franz Liszt, and Hans von Bülow as they appeared in the 1880s when the young Matthay heard them. Liszt, who arrived in London in April of 1886, was being fêted in honor of his 75th birthday, but he was only four months away from his death.

Liszt was then the most hallowed pianist in the world, and he visited the Academy at the invitation of his former pupil—and Matthay's RAM colleague—Walter Bache. Now 75 (and only four months away from his death), Liszt had long since retired from public performance, but he still played informally a few times—once at London's spacious Grosvenor Galleries—and he mesmerized all who heard him. Matthay felt as though Liszt had transformed the piano into an orchestra, and he was stunned at the ease with which he produced his sounds. Thus, the first elements of his later theories were beginning to take shape, as he observed that it didn't require Herculean strength to produce forte sounds.

Though the wrong way makes possibly more noise close by ... this will not “carry” at all compared to the correct, elastic method. This is easily heard in a larger room, and it was forcibly brought under my notice when I heard Liszt play at a reception at the Grosvenor Gallery where our genial and talented host, Mr. Walter Bache, himself also played. Liszt, though an old, weak man, produced far more resonant and “filling” tone, without any effort whatever, than did our late friend [Bache suddenly died two years later] (energetic and splendid teacher indeed that he was)[;] poor Bache.

A month later, the Russian pianist and composer Anton Rubinstein (1829-94), arrived in London to play an astonishing eight recitals in a two-week span. As Matthay's wife, Jessie, later wrote:

For Matthay to hear Rubinstein was to pass into a changed world. Here was a Titan, a Michelangelo, a Dante! Was this really still the pianoforte, with its supposed limitations? Henceforward one might think of it as an orchestra. In this he would find consolation. It was a wonder that must be recaptured, must be reconstructed; and to this end his life should be devoted.

Two years later, the man many regarded as Liszt's greatest pupil, Hans von Bülow (1830-1894), made his final appearance in London in a cycle of four Beethoven recitals, and Matthay was transfixed, noting his "commanding authority of interpretation, his magnificence of line, his lifting of keyboard music up to the plane of the Universal." He even purchased Bülow's edition of the "Appassionata," and made detailed notes while the artist performed the work. Matthay always claimed that he had never invented anything, but now it was though he had found his life's work, because he pledged to discover the principles which enabled these artists to bring such effects from a piano.

Myra Hess at 18 — A publicity photo of the 17-year-old Myra Hess as she was beginning her London career in 1907. In November of that year she made her orchestral debut with a young Thomas Beecham in both the Beethoven Fourth and the Saint-Saëns Fourth Concertos.

Jessie Kennedy Matthay, 1899 — A charcoal sketch of Jessie Kennedy Matthay done in 1899 by Chelsea artist C. Kay Robertson. In the same year, Robertson also painted Matthay's official RAM portrait, which still hangs in the Academy today. (Courtesy, Royal Academy of Music)

When Matthay joined the RAM faculty, its enrollment was largely female, and his earliest classes were almost exclusively women of modest abilities. He was also expected to teach "second studies," which was the Academy equivalent term for a piano minor in an American college or conservatory, and in the fall of 1892, one such "second study" changed his life. Jessie Kennedy, then 23, was the youngest member of Scotland's most famous family of folk singers—who by then had toured all over the world—and a year later they were married in Edinburgh. Many decades later, Matthay wrote, "She was my inspiration, my helper and adviser in everything ... and I ascribe to her all the success I may have achieved." She also became one of the most famous elocutionists in Britain, and noted actors such as Alistair Sim and John Gielgud came to her for dialect coaching. The Matthays often treated his more serious students as part of their extended family, and throughout their lives, they found none more endearing than Myra Hess, who began studying with him at the age of 12.

Over time, students with increasingly serious aspirations began to find their way to his studio, since he was known to have "new ideas," and he had acquired a reputation as a teacher of limitless patience, who was willing to explain pedagogical issues in as much detail as a student required. Eventually, the Royal Academy of Music, once regarded as little more than a young ladies' finishing school, became a citadel of extraordinary pianism, as Matthay's female students began to take England by storm.

Matthay's Female Students — Some of Matthay's most gifted female students at the start of their careers. Many of these young women were virtuosic firebrands, and not infrequently, they were praised for their extraordinary beauty as much as their brilliant pianism. Top row, L-R: Eileen Joyce, Gertrude Peppercorn, and Harriet Cohen. Bottom row, L-R: Irene Scharrer, Moura Lympany, and Raie Da Costa.

Mathay's Male Students — Of course, Matthay's most gifted male students made no less of an impact on British music, both as composers and as extraordinary pianists. L-R, Arnold Bax, York Bowen, and Clifford Curzon.

Matthay's Writings

Americans on the steps of the TMPS — The American edition of Musical Interpretation appeared in 1913, just months after the British edition was published, since Matthay's ideas were already making an impact in America.

The Act of Touch, published by Longmans Green in 1903, set the piano world on its ear, because Matthay's ideas were then considered so revolutionary.

Matthay had been developing his new ideas, and formulating them into principles, since the late 1880s, but it wasn't until 1903 that he felt ready to share his theories with the world. The full title of his first major work was The Act of Touch in All its Diversity: An Analysis and Synthesis of Pianoforte Tone-Production, and it was encyclopedic in scope. He divided the work into four large sections meant to cover the substance of his theoretical investigations, while a fifth section devoted to keyboard exercises was planned for a later date. This work, titled Relaxation Studies in the Muscular Discriminations Required for Touch, Agility, and Expression in Pianoforte Playing first appeared in 1908, and it's a fascinating volume to study today, since it's peppered with photos of the teenaged Myra Hess, Irene Scharrer, and Harriet Cohen, all demonstrating his various keyboard exercises.

Matthay was not the first theorist to use the terms "weight" and "relaxation," but arguably, he was the first to link these concepts so emphatically to aesthetic considerations. This linkage was most emphatically demonstrated by his Musical Interpretation, its Laws and Principles, and their Application in Teaching and Performing, first published in 1913, and a book so popular that it has never gone out of print. Matthay believed that even elusive concepts such as rubato could be understood by reference to natural laws, and Musical Interpretation explains his theories so luicidly that the book has often been studied by instrumentalists and conductors.

But over the years, many found The Act of Touch somewhat daunting, because it was so comprehensive, so Matthay brought forth a more concise statement of his views in The Visible and Invisible and Pianoforte Technique, which first appeared in 1932, and is today often recommended for those seeking a highly understandable introduction to his theories.

The Tobias Matthay Pianoforte School

From the time Matthay first joined the faculty, many professors at the RAM taught private students to help make ends meet, but by 1905, his class had grown too large for one person to handle. He felt the need to hire assistants, and most of these were his former RAM students. He began by renting studio space above a music shop at 305 Oxford Street, but by 1909 he was finding this insufficient, so he leased a converted townhouse at 96 Wimpole Street, and he remained there for the next 30 years. At its height, the TMPS had over 25 teachers and over 400 students, who came from all corners of the globe to study with him.

In late July each year, the summer term always culminated in what Matthay termed his "Summer Festival," a week-long series of concerts by all of his students, both American and British, and the final concert of the week was always held in London's massive Queen's Hall. Tickets were always sold, and patrons stood in line to purchase them, a highly unusual phenomenon for a "student concert." The most select and outstanding of all his summer students were chosen to appear at the Queen's Hall events, and in the 1920s and 1930s, Bruce Simonds, Eunice Norton, Raie Da Costa, Frank Mannheimer, Albion Metcalf, Carlos Buhler, Julian DeGray, Eileen Joyce, Ray Lev, and Nina Milkina were among the many artists who performed.

The Matthay "Daughters"

Matthay and Denise Lassimonne — Matthay with Denise Lassimonne (1903-1994) standing on the south lawn of High Marley, his country home which overlooked the South Downs, about 1930. The Matthays never formally adopted Denise, but she entered their household when she was 18, so they regarded her very much as a daughter. She remained with Matthay until his death in 1945.

Tobias and Jessie Matthay never had children, but from the earliest days of their marriage, they had always treated his students as part of their extended family. The reverence and life-long loyalty his students showed toward "Uncle Tobs"—which was what they always called him—was nearly unique in the pantheon of great teachers and their students. From her teen years, Myra Hess was very special to them, and when her family fell on hard times and grew increasingly dysfunctional, she returned to High Marley, the Matthays' country home near Haslemere, nearly every weekend to—in her words—"reset her compass."

Denise Lassimonne was 12 when she began studying with Matthay, and then living with her French parents on the Isle of Wight, where her father served as French tutor to the Royal Family. She was 18 when he died unexpectedly, and her mother and older sister soon returned to France. But Denise, who was blossoming into a brilliant pianist and composer, still needed to complete her studies at the RAM, so the Matthays simply took her in. Although there was never a formal adoption, she became in a very real sense, their adopted daughter—in fact, while most of Matthay's students knew Mrs. Matthay as "Aunt Jessie," Denise typically referred to her as "Mummy II." Whenever Myra wasn't on tour, the two young women were often inseparable, and throughout Myra's life, Denise idolized her older "sister."

Dame Myra Hess and Tobias Matthay — Matthay rarely traveled up to London during the strident years of World War II, but he made an exception on February 19, 1943, his 85th birthday. On that afternoon, Myra (now Dame Myra Hess) performed two of his compositions in his honor at the National Gallery.