Munich, and a pupil of _Winter_, who has been residing in Venice for
the last sixteen years. He is a pianist and composer, and seems to
possess much real taste for his art. At least he complained to us,
with a most piteous face, that in this country it was impossible for
him to keep pace with his German brothers in art, because he had
scarcely ever the good fortune to hear a German work of any note, and
that with his enthusiasm for music, his heart was fit to break; that
his circumstances bound him to a city where, for sixteen years, he
had heard every year the same things over again, while the Germans,
in the meantime, had witnessed the production of so many classic
works. I afterwards saw some of his productions, and it is much to be
regretted that he has been confined in this Siberia of art. In order
to give me an idea how little art and artists were esteemed, even
by gentlemen who wished to pass for Mæcenas’s, he related to me an
anecdote of what occurred to _Bärmann_ of Munich, who was here last
winter with Demoiselle _Harles_. Count _Herizo_, a very rich nobleman,
who, during the winter, gives a concert at his house every week, to
which he frequently invites as many as two hundred persons, besought
_Bärmann_, through a third party, to play at one of them. The latter
had himself already announced a public concert, and presuming that it
would be greatly to his disadvantage if he played elsewhere before, he
declined the invitation, but promised to play _after_ his own concert.
On the same day, however, Count _Herizo_ gave one of his customary
grand concerts in which “the Creation” was performed, I believe for the
first time in Venice; and _Bärmann_ had so thin an attendance, that to
cover the expenses of the concert he was obliged to add forty francs
from his own pocket. Nevertheless a week afterwards, Count _Herizo_
repeated his invitation to _Bärmann_, who now, however, demanded a
gratification of twelve Louisd’or. After much debate this was at
length agreed to. But _Bärmann_ shortly after was apprised that it was
intended to play off a hoax upon him. To avoid this he wrote anew to
decline the invitation, and went on a pleasure excursion with _Harles_
to the mainland. Upon his return, a friend of Count _Herizo’s_ came to
inquire of him the reason why he would not play, and on being told,
he assured him upon his honour that nothing of the kind was intended,
and that _Bärmann_ had not the least to fear; upon which the latter
gave his promise to appear at the next concert. He was very politely
received by Count _Herizo_, and the music began. After the space of an
hour, when six pieces had been performed, _Bärmann_ was curious to know
when his turn would come; he therefore asked the loan of a programme
from his neighbour, and found at the end of the whole of the pieces of
music, which at least would last two hours more, the following words:
“If time will permit, Herr _Bärmann_ will also perform a concerto on
the clarinet.” His rage may be imagined. Count _Herizo_ is reported
then to have said to him at the end of the concert, in a loud tone of
voice: “We have no time to hear you this evening, but we shall perhaps
another time!” and in this manner he was cheated of his pecuniary
gratification. _Bärmann_ immediately slunk out, but in so doing was so
unfortunate as to mistake the way, and instead of taking the passage
leading out upon the street, plumped right into the canal. Fortunately
the gondoliers plying near the spot came to his assistance, and soon
pulled him out. Half-perished with cold, and highly exasperated, he
returned home. Next morning he was summoned before the police by
Count _Herizo_. The director of police, after the matter had been
explained to him by _Bärmann_, had nevertheless courage sufficient to
justify _Bärmann_, and to point out to Count _Herizo_ the rudeness of
his conduct. Under such circumstances, however, _Bärmann_ thought it
advisable to hasten his departure, especially as a suspicious-looking
fellow had been making inquiries about the hours of his going out of
evenings. Fräulein _Harles_, also, came badly off. In the first opera
she gave tolerable satisfaction, and fault was found only with her bad
accent; but on the first representation of the second opera, she was so
disconcerted, in her very first scene, by the loud talking, coughing,
and laughing of the audience, that she ran off the stage in the middle
of her aria, and fell down behind the scenes like one dead. She was
seized with an inflammation of the throat, and, during the whole
winter, was unable to sing any thing else but the speaking recitatives.
All _pièces d’ensemble_ and both finales were sung without her, and
yet, as she could find no substitute, she was obliged to appear before
the public every evening. The managers deserve praise, for they played
her no underhand tricks, but paid her according to the agreement made.
October 15.
There are two kinds of dilettanti-concerts given here. One takes place
every fortnight at the _Fenice_ theatre, under the direction of Count
_Tomasini_. At the one at which I was present _Teresa Sessi_, who was
formerly engaged at Vienna, sang two airs, a duet, and a quartet, with
much applause, in her old style, which is neither better nor worse.
Besides her, a dilettante attracted the attention of the auditory
by singing several buffo things in the genuine Italian caricature
style. All the rest, particularly the composition and execution of the
ouvertures, was, as is usual in Italy, exceedingly bad.
The other is a sort of practice concerts, and takes place once a week,
under the direction of Signor _Contin_. With the exception of some of
the wind instruments and of the bass-viols, the orchestra is wholly
composed of dilettanti, and the pieces performed consist mostly of
symphonies and overtures by German masters. But a proper study of these
works is quite out of the question, and it is considered matter of
gratulation if they are got through without coming to a stillstand. On
the day I was present, a very old symphony of _Krommer’s_ was performed
first, which was followed by the one in E flat major by _Andrew
Romberg_.
For the finale I was solicited to direct _Beethoven’s_ second symphony
in D major, which I could not refuse. But I had a rare job with the
orchestra, for they were accustomed to quite other _tempi_ than I took,
and seemed not at all to understand that there are shades of _forte_
and _piano_ in music, for all worked with bow and breath as hard and
incessantly as they could, and my ears rang the whole night with the
infernal noise. But these practice concerts are nevertheless so far
good that they afford the lovers of music in Venice the opportunity of
hearing several of our classical instrumental compositions, such as
the overtures to “Don Juan” and the “Zauberflöte,” which they had not
hitherto been acquainted with; and, though but imperfectly, they learn
to feel that the Germans are immensely superior to them in that kind of
composition. Indeed they say so themselves, but they do not thoroughly
believe it, and only acknowledge it, in order to be enabled to boast
with more freedom of their superiority in song and vocal compositions
(!!). The self-satisfaction of the Italians, despite their poverty of
fancy is in fact unbearable; whenever I executed in their presence any
of my things, they thought they could pay me no higher compliment than
when they assured me they were quite Italian in taste and style.
October 16.
To-day in the forenoon, in company with three Silesians, we went to the
ancient palace of the Doges. The so-called golden stair case was the
first thing that attracted our attention. It is outside the building
as far as the first floor, is of the finest marble, and ornamented
with colossal statues of beautiful proportions. Up to the second and
third stories it is in the interior of the building, and there is
richly decorated on the sides with marble bas-reliefs, on the ceiling
with gilt mouldings and small fresco-paintings, and with very fine
statues in the niches. We then saw an extensive suite of salons and
apartments, which were truly grand in decoration, the walls and the
ceilings are painted in oil by the best masters, and here and there
at intervals are the richest and most beautiful sculptured ornaments
I ever beheld. The subjects of these pictures are almost exclusively
incidents in the history of Venice; Doges returning thanks to the Holy
Virgin for victories achieved, or the surrender of the keys of some
one of the fortresses besieged by the Venetians, etc. etc. Despite
the want of good taste in the bringing together, in these paintings,
of heavenly and earthly personages, the execution and grouping of
each, particularly in those by _Paul Veronese_, is exceedingly fine.
Altogether in my opinion, there is no kind of decoration so befitting
and worthy of a princely palace as this, in which the deeds of the
nation are immortalized at the same time with the name of the most
skilful national artist. In the present day how little feeling exists
for this kind of patriotism! Where up to the present day is there to
be seen any painting illustrating the modern deeds of heroism of the
Germans, executed by the order of a Sovereign? And yet how greatly
the artists of the present day are in want of such encouragement and
support! And I am here speaking of painters and sculptors only; poets
and musicians ought also to have been invited to immortalize the deeds
of the German people.
We came at last to the great library, which contains also a perfect
treasure of paintings and antique statues. From the gallery of this
hall one has a charming view of the harbour.--In order to be enabled
to make a comparison between the style of decorating palaces in
former time with the modern method, we visited the apartments in the
government building fitted up by order of the former Viceroy. We
found them pretty and convenient, it is true; but what a difference
between the earnest splendour of that ancient palace and the tasteless
ornamentation of the new! Instead of the marble bas-reliefs and the
rich gilt mouldings and ornaments of the latter, here we found slovenly
painted arabesques by the hands of unknown daubers, and the walls hung
with silk tapestry or figured paper instead of the pictures of famous
masters.
October 17.
Yesterday _Paganini_ returned here again from Trieste, and therefore,
as it would appear, has at once abandoned his project of going to
Vienna. He called on me this morning, and so I have at length made
the personal acquaintance of this wonderful man, of whom since I
have been in Italy I have heard some story or other every day. No
instrumentalist ever charmed the Italians so much as he, and although
they are not very fond of instrumental concerts, yet he gave more than
a dozen concerts in Milan and five here. On making nearer enquiry, what
it is that he in reality fascinates his auditory with, one hears from
the non-musical portion the most exaggerated encomiums--that he is a
complete wizard, and brings tones from his violin which were never
heard before from that instrument. Connoisseurs, on the other hand,
say that it cannot be denied he certainly possesses a great dexterity
with the left hand, in double-chords and in passages of every kind, but
that the very thing by which he fascinates the crowd debases him to a
mere charlatan, and does not compensate for that in which he is utterly
wanting--a grand tone, a long bow-stroke, and a tasteful execution. But
that by which he captivates the Italian public and which has acquired
for him the name of the “Inimitable,” which is even placed under his
portraits, consists, on a nearer enquiry, in a succession of feats
which, in the dark times of good taste, the once so famous _Scheller_
performed in the small towns and some capitals of Germany, and which
at that time equally excited the admiration of our countrymen, viz,
in the flageolet tones; in variations upon one string, in which for
the purpose of imposing more upon the audience, he takes off the
other three strings of the violin; in a peculiar kind of _pizzicato_,
produced with the left hand without the help of the right or of the
bow; and in many tones quite unnatural to the violin, such as the
bassoon tone, the voice of an old woman, etc. etc.--As I never heard
the wonderful _Scheller_, whose saying was: “_One God! one Scheller!_”
I should much like to hear _Paganini_ play in his peculiar manner, and
the more so, because I presume that so admired an artist must possess
some more real merits than those adverted to.
The origin of his present skill as a virtuoso is said to have been a
four years incarceration, to which he was condemned, for strangling his
wife in a fit of violent rage. Such, at least, is the public report in
Milan and here also. As from a wholly neglected education he could
amuse himself neither with writing nor reading, he cheered the _ennui_
of the tedious hours of his existence in the invention and practise of
all the tricks of art with which he now astonishes all Italy. By his
disobliging and rude behaviour he has made enemies of several of the
lovers of music here, and they, after I have played any thing before
them at my lodgings, extol me upon every opportunity at _Paganini’s_
expense, in order to annoy him, which is not only very unjust, since
between two artists of such entirely different style no parallel can
be drawn; but is also disadvantageous to me, because it makes all
_Paganini’s_ admirers and partizans my enemies. His opponents have
inserted a letter in the journals, in which they say that my play
recalls to them the style of their veteran violinists, _Pugnani_ and
_Tartini_, whose grand and dignified manner of handling the violin has
become wholly lost in Italy, and had been compelled to make room for
the petty and childish manner of their virtuosi of the present day;
while the Germans and French had understood how to adapt that noble and
simple method of play to the taste of modern times. This letter, which
appeared in to-day’s paper without my knowledge, will certainly do me
rather harm than good with the public, for the Venetians are firmly
persuaded that it is impossible to come up to _Paganini_, much less to
surpass him.
October 19.
Our concert took place yesterday, and was better attended than I had
expected, since all who have the means to go into the country, or who
are not tied to the city by very urgent business, are away, and of
all my letters of recommendation the only one I have been yet able to
deliver is the one to the governor Count _Goes_. Neither is it worth
the trouble, to bring letters of introduction to Italians, for they
are of no manner of use. A cold offer of their services, which they
do not intend to give, is all that one gets from them. But I must
return to the concert. It took place in the St. Luca theatre, which,
next to the Fenice, is the largest and handsomest in Venice. The
proprietor, Signor _Vendremi_, let me have it on the condition that
I should relinquish to him two-thirds of the sale of the boxes which
were not private property. There exists, namely, a curious custom in
Italy, which is, that certain boxes are sold to private individuals
for as long as the house stands, whereby the proprietor of the house
abandons all right to them. But these proprietors of boxes must pay
the price for admission at the entrance the same as everybody else.
This is the same for every part of the house, and always a very low
one; with the boxes which remain in the hands of the proprietor of the
theatre rare bargains are sometimes driven, and on the performance of
very attractive pieces they are frequently paid as high as several
carolini. Yesterday very little was taken for the boxes, so that signor
_Vendremi_ did not profit much. From the coldness of the public at
the commencement of my play, I immediately observed that there was
a prejudice against me; but by degrees it subsided, and towards the
close of the concert the applause was so unanimous, that I was twice
called for. All that I afterwards played now found a much more ready
reception, and the clapping of hands was as boisterous as in Milan.
To-day there has also appeared in the paper a very favorable report
upon yesterday’s concert, in which it says, in reference to the letter
adverted to, that it is unjust and partial to endeavour to praise one
style at the expense of another, and that there should be no monopoly
of any one genre in art: in which report, however, it also says of me,
among other things, “that I unite the Italian sweetness with all the
depth of study peculiar to our nation, and that I must be acknowledged
to take rank among the first of living violinists--encomiums therefore,
such as might content the vainest artist.”
October 20.
_Paganini_ called upon me early this morning to compliment me upon the
concert. I very urgently solicited him to play something, and several
musical friends who were at my place united their entreaties to mine.
But he very bluntly refused, and excused himself on account of a fall,
the effects of which he still felt in the arms. Afterwards, when we
were alone, and I again besought him, he said, his style of play was
calculated for the great public only, and with them never failed in its
effect; and that if he was to play anything to me, he must play in a
_different_ manner, and for that he was at the moment by no means in
the humour; but that we should probably meet in Rome or Naples, and
then he would not put me off with a refusal. I shall therefore leave
this place in all probability without hearing the wonderful man.
This morning, on going out, we had the wholly unexpected pleasure of
meeting _Meyerbeer_ and all his family. He is now returned from a
tour through Sicily to meet his parents here, who have not seen him
for five years: he will then turn back through Florence and Rome to
Naples, to be present at the opening of the new theatre of _St. Carlo_.
It was a real enjoyment to me to be able once more to converse with a
well-educated German artist on subjects of art. His brother gave me
the gratifying information that my opera “Faust” had been performed
in Prague. On their journey through they were present at a rehearsal
of it. I now look forward with hope to more detailed information
respecting its representation.
At the theatre St. Moise we were present at the first performance
of the old opera “Don Papirio,” which had been studied with great
attention by the vocalists and the orchestra. The prima donna, Madame
_Marchesini_, already somewhat _passée_, distinguished herself greatly
on that evening by good execution and clever acting. The buffo singer,
whose name I do not remember, was also very excellent.
_Bologna_, October 25.
Late on Monday evening we left Venice by the “mail boat.” As the wind
was very favorable, we performed the first part of the journey by
water, as far as where the canal falls into the Lagunes, very quickly.
Twice, for a short distance, we crossed a part of the open sea, that
is the great and lesser harbour of Chiozza, where the motion of our
bark was so violent from the roughness of the sea, that _Dorette_ and
the children were regularly sea-sick. I only escaped this affliction by
seating myself on the deck in the fresh air. When we had run into the
canal, and afterwards into the Po, where the boat was towed by horses,
it went slowly and quietly enough, so that I soon went to fetch up the
patients. As I am told here, that the rich people of the town are still
in the country, and that even at the most favorable season of the year
concerts scarcely cover their expenses, we shall abandon the idea of
giving one here, and continue our journey to Florence to-morrow morning
by vetturino.
_Florence_, October 28.
The journey here over the Apennines, with very fine weather, was
exceedingly pleasant. The mountains, though of a considerable height,
are wooded almost to their summits, and the trees and bushes, were now
rich with the most beautiful colours of their autumnal garb. The valley
in which Florence lies presents a highly charming prospect. When one
looks down upon the beautiful gardens and country seats, one seems to
be entering a very Paradise.
November 2.
Florence does not quite come up to the expectations one forms of it
from the description of over-enthusiastic travellers. Dresden is called
the German Florence, but is not much honoured by the parallel. The
situation of Dresden, as well as the city itself, are incomparably
finer. The Arno is a dirty, mean-looking river, and is not in the least
to be compared with the majestic Elbe. The four bridges which lead
over it and connect the two parts of the town are certainly good and
substantial, but not so long or so elegant as that of Dresden. Neither
has Florence such fine buildings nor such handsome squares as Dresden,
and excels it alone in its treasures of art of every kind. Of these
there are so many here, that one can scarcely find time to see them
all. On the square in front of the ancient palace stand several groups
of colossal statues in marble and bronze of the most celebrated of the
old masters, which make of this square, otherwise so irregular and
unattractive, one of the most interesting in the world for connoisseurs
in art. A group in marble, representing the rape of a Sabine,
especially charmed us. From this square it is not far to the cathedral,
a gigantic building with a cupola, which in circumference and height
is said to be little inferior to St. Peter’s at Rome. The exterior is
somewhat too party-coloured and not very tasteful; the walls are inlaid
with tables of marble of different colours, which present a variety
of patterns. Near the church stands a very lofty square clock-tower,
which is ornamented in the same manner. Belonging thereto, although
isolated from it, is also a christening chapel built in the same style,
and also with a tolerably high dome. Here are the celebrated gates of
bronze, of which _Michael Angelo_ said they were worthy to stand at
the entrance to the abode of the blessed, as they were too beautiful
for any earthly building. There are three of them, two of which are
executed and ornamented in the same style. But the single one is by
far the handsomest and has far larger bas-reliefs than the other two.
In the whole world is not to be seen any thing more beautiful in the
grouping, drawing, perspective, softness and purity of the work than
these bas-reliefs.
In another church we saw a succession of tombs, among which those of
_Michael Angelo_, _Nardini_, and _Alfieri_ interested us greatly. On
the tomb of the former is his bust, executed with his own hand, and
three female figures (by one of his pupils) personifying the three arts
in which he excelled: architecture, painting, and sculpture, mourning
for his loss. What however does it not confer upon the artists who
merited such memorials of their worth, and upon their contemporaries
also who raised them to them! Where can one find anything of the kind
in Germany? Where have _Mozart_ and _Haydn_ the memorials to their
honour? In Vienna no one even knows where they are buried.
November 5.
On the day we arrived, and almost every evening since, we have been
to the theatre in the _Via della Pergola_. They are now giving an
opera of _Rossini’s_, “L’Italiana in Algeri,” and a grand ballet.
_Rossini_ is now the favorite composer of the Italians, and several
of his operas, “Tancredi,” “Il Turco in Italia,” and the above-named,
are performed with great applause in almost every town in Italy. I was
therefore glad, after having heard his compositions so frequently and
highly praised in Milan and Venice, to hear something of his myself.
This opera has, however, not wholly satisfied my expectations; in
the first place it is wanting, like all Italian music, in purity of
style, characteristic proprieties in the personages, and judicious
calculation of the length or shortness of the music for the scene.
These indispensable qualities of an opera to which we would give the
appellation classic, I had however not expected, as we do not at all
miss them in an Italian opera. One is accustomed to have the same
person sing alternately in the tragic and comic style, and to hear from
a peasant girl the same pompous vocal ornamentation as from a queen or
a heroine, and to hear one of the persons performing sing alone, for
a quarter of an hour at a time, in situations of the most impassioned
kind, while the others walk about in the back-ground, or partly behind
the scenes, and chat and laugh with their acquaintances. But I did
indeed expect qualities which should distinguish _Rossini’s_ work above
that of his colleagues--novelty of ideas, for instance; purity of
harmony, etc.; but of all these I found but little. What the Italians
consider new in _Rossini’s_ operas is not new to us; for they consist
of ideas and modulations for the most part long since known in Germany;
for instance the appoggiatura in the bass at the beginning of the
much-admired duett in the first act:
[Music]
which the musicians in Florence boasted of to me as something quite
new, and discovered by _Rossini_. In Milan, where I heard the same duet
at a concert, it was probably found too hard, and the fifth and sixth
measures were thus changed:
[Music]
Or the following modulation, also, at the finale of the first act:
[Music]
Purity of harmony is not to be found in him any more than in any other
modern Italian composer; and I have heard many sequences of quints like
the following:
[Music]
But in attention to the rhythm and in the complete use he makes of the
orchestra, he distinguishes himself above his countrymen.
The instrumentation, however, as compared with ours, first introduced
by _Mozart_, is still very meagre, and the Italians in that still
cling too much to the old. The viols and bassoons almost always go
through the whole opera _col Basso_, and the clarinets and hautboys
in _Unisono_. As in most Italian operas with from six to eight
contra-basses there is only one violincello, and usually not even a
good one, they as yet know nothing here of the (since _Mozart’s_ day)
frequent use of the violincello for middle voices, which, skilfully
brought in, has such a splendid effect; and they are far behind the
Germans in the knowledge of how to get the best effect from the wind
instruments. But what surprised me most, was to hear sometimes in these
operas a very uneven cantabile, while a flowing and for the voice
grateful and well arranged cantabile is the only praise-worthy quality
of the modern Italian operatic music, and must compensate for all the
deficiencies and faults. The two following passages struck me most; the
first in an aria of the prima donna, the second, in the first finale,
where it frequently recurs:
[Music]
[Music]
Both these passages are not only unsingable but exceedingly insipid,
and the second especially, from the somewhat slow movement and its
frequent recurrence, is wholly unbearable.
Among the singers in this opera, Madame _Georgi_, the prima donna,
is the only remarkable one. She has a full, powerful voice of rare
compass, from
[Music]
to
[Music]