When I talk of the “new music”—which will be different from Debussy and Schönberg and all the rest of them—I am not talking of how far beyond the limits of known harmony, or the anarchy which disregards any harmonic system, we shall go. Undoubtedly, as far as all that is concerned, “some day some one will dig down to the roots and turn up music as it is before it is tamed to the scale.” This seems to me a settled fact. But I am much more interested in the piano itself and the deliverer who is to set it free from the lie which has grown up around it and make it vibrate to a truer color. It is all in the plane of vibration, I believe. It will come about in three ways: through the mechanical development of the piano, through a new type of music, and chiefly through the new type of pianist. You will have your Mason and Hamlin—(this is not advertising; it is merely a conviction)—you will have that great dark-winged-victory standing alone on a stage; you will care a great deal about the color of the light around and above it—the tones of the walls within which your beautiful sounds are to live; you will touch that ivory and ebony—oh, there are no words! You will _see_ those sounds against the color.... You may write a program for your audience—something like this: I believe the right technical approach is simply a different are the most beautiful there are anywhere in the world—more beautiful than the wind in trees or the moan in the sea or the silence that is heard on deserts; I believe that these sounds live only by a certain magic of invocation. There are no rules for them—unless perhaps you want to read Bergson. I believe the right technical approach is simply a different kind of friendship—or love affair—with each sound. I believe that tone goes way beyond the range between pianissimo and fortissimo, between legato and staccato, etc. Tone is radiance, eagerness, light, darkness, devastation, something that melts, something that cries and burns, something that shatters. I do not believe in playing “programs”—ending with a blaze of Liszt. I couldn’t play the _Campanella_ to save my life, but I don’t see that it matters. I do not believe in “program” music—beginning with Bach (now that the public has learned to applaud him) and ending with Liszt. I couldn’t play the _Campenella_ to save my life, but I don’t see that it matters. I do not believe in nature music—babbling brooks and warbling birds. I believe in nature mood, just as I do in the mood of all great phenomena. The music I have made will be sometimes merely the curve of a mood—like the curve of line in Watts’s _Orpheus and Eurydice_; or merely the design of a color or a scent. But always it will keep close to two fundamentals: that “hard gemlike flame” and the rhythm of sex.