and his diversity of manner, shews that he is so, without resorting
to the same desperate means. Besides his own compositions, he plays
almost all those of ancient and modern times. On one and the same
evening he gave us a quintet of _Bocherini_, a quartet of _Haydn_,
and three of his own compositions--a concerto, an _air varié_, and a
rondo. He played all these things with the most perfect purity, and
with the expression which is peculiar to his manner. His expression,
nevertheless, seemed to me more artificial than natural, and indeed his
whole execution, from the too salient evidence of the means by which he
gives that expression, has the appearance of mannerism. His bow-stroke
is skilful, and rich in shades of expression, but not so free as
_Lafont’s_, and therefore his tone is not so beautiful as that of the
latter, and the mechanical process of the up and down stroke of the bow
is too audible. His compositions are distinguished above almost all
those of any other Parisian violinist by their correctness; neither can
they be denied a certain originality; but being somewhat artificial,
mannered, and out of date in style, the hearer remains cold and without
a sense of emotion. You know that he frequently plays and takes great
pleasure in _Boccherini’s_ quintets. I was desirous of hearing him in
these quintets, with about a dozen of which I am acquainted, in order
to see whether from the manner in which he executes them he could
succeed in making one forget the poverty of the compositions. But well
as they were given by him, the frequent childishness of the melodies,
and the poverty of the harmonies (almost always three-voiced only) were
no less unpleasing to me, than in all those I had heard before. One can
hardly understand how a cultivated artist like _Baillot_, to whom our
treasures in compositions of this kind are known, can bring himself
to play those quintets still, whose worth consists only in the regard
had to the period and circumstances under which they were written. But
that they are here listened to with as much pleasure as a quintet of
_Mozart_, is another proof that Parisians cannot distinguish the good
from the bad, and are at least half a century behind in art.
I heard _Habeneck_ play two _airs variés_ of his composition. He is a
brilliant violinist and plays much with great rapidity and ease. His
tone and his bow-stroke are somewhat coarse.
_Kreutzer_ junior, the brother and pupil of the elder, played to me a
new, very brilliant and graceful trio of his brother’s composition. The
manner in which he executed it reminded me somewhat of the style of the
elder one, and satisfied me that they are the purest players of all the
Parisian violinists. Young _Kreutzer_ is wanting in physical power,
he is somewhat ill, and dare not play sometimes for months together.
His tone therefore is weak, but in other respects his play is pure,
spirited and full of expression.
Two days ago I heard two more quite new quintets of _Reicha_, which he
wrote for the morning-concerts of the five previously named artists.
They were played at a rehearsal, which appears to me to have been
given solely for the purpose of fishing for more subscribers to the
morning-concerts, among the numerous persons who were invited. At
least a list of them was handed round. It is sad to see what means
artists here are obliged to resort to, in order to procure support
for their undertakings. While the Parisians press eagerly forward to
every sensual enjoyment, they must be almost dragged to intellectual
ones.--I found the composition of these two new quintets, like those I
had previously heard at _Kreutzer’s_, rich in interesting sequences of
harmony, correct throughout in the management of the voices, and full
of effect in the use made of the tone and character of the different
wind-instruments, but on the other hand, frequently defective in the
form. Mr. _Reicha_ is not economical enough of his ideas, and at the
very commencement of his pieces he frequently gives from four to five
themes, each of which concludes in the tonic. Were he less rich, he
would be richer. His periods also are frequently badly connected and
sound as though he had written one yesterday and the other to-day.
Yet the minuets and scherzi, as short pieces, are less open to
this objection, and some of them are real masterpieces in form and
contents. A German soundness of science and capacity are the greatest
ornaments of this master. The execution in the rapid subjects was again
wonderfully correct, but somewhat less so in the slow ones.
I do not think I have yet spoken to you of the _Feydeau_. We have been
less frequently to that theatre than to the other operatic theatres,
because it so happened that on those evenings when we were at liberty
pieces were generally performed that did not much interest us. Yet we
were present at the first representation of _Méhul’s_ “Joseph,” which,
after a long repose was again put on the stage. The public however,
did not seem very grateful for this to the directors of the theatre,
for they gave it but a cold reception. In support of my assertion
that the French take an interest only in the piece, and know little
how to appreciate the excellence of the music, I may adduce, that
the tirades in the dialogue were far more applauded than the song
parts. The singers succeeded in obtaining applause only when, in the
superabundance of an artificial feeling, instead of singing, they began
to sob. At the pieces of the opera--for instance, at the first chorus
of the brothers--there was not a hand stirred. Many of the tempi were
taken quite different from those in Germany, but not to the advantage
of the music; for instance, the fine morning-hymn of the Israelites,
behind the scenes, was taken so quick, that it lost all its solemnity.
A screaming violin, also, that supported the soprani was far too
prematurely loud. The orchestra played well, and was particularly
remarkable for a delicate _piano_.
_Moscheles_ has been here a month. He makes a great sensation with his
extremely brilliant play, and wins the admiration both of artists and
dilettanti, the former by his execution of his richly intellectual
compositions, and the latter by his free fantasias, in which, as far
as his Germanism permits him, he accommodates himself to the Parisian
taste. The brothers _Bohrer_ have also returned to-day from a tour in
the provinces, but will remain here a few days only, and then leave
on a new tour viâ Munich to Vienna. I regret that I shall not have
an opportunity of hearing these artists, whom I have not met for ten
years. They wanted to persuade me to accompany them from here upon a
tour in the southern provinces, where they assure me some money is to
be made. But I have not the least inclination to go. The bad orchestras
in the provincial towns, the bad taste and the unpleasant negociations
to lessen the amount to be given up to the theatre and the poor of the
towns, would make a journey of the kind too disagreeable to me. In a
few days we shall return to Germany by way of Nancy and Strasbourg, and
therefore shall soon greet you again in dear Fatherland.
Till then farewell!
* * * * *
To these letters regarding my sojourn in Paris, I have yet to add some
few things from recollection. From the frequent opportunities I had
of playing before _Cherubini_ at private parties, I conceived a very
ardent desire to have all my quartets and quintets so far as I thought
them worthy of it, heard by that by me highly esteemed master, and to
introduce them by degrees to his notice, in order to ask his opinion of
them. But in this I succeeded with very few only, for when _Cherubini_
had heard the first quartet (it was Nr. 1 of the Op. 45 written at
Frankfort), and I was on the point of producing a second, he protested
against it, and said: “Your music, and indeed the form and style of
this kind of music, is yet so foreign to me, that I cannot find myself
immediately at home with it, nor follow it properly; I would therefore
much prefer that you repeated the quartet you have just played!” I was
very much astonished at this remark, and did not understand it until
I afterwards ascertained that _Cherubini_ was quite unacquainted with
the German masterpieces of this kind of _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_--and
at the utmost had once heard a quartet by _Haydn_ at _Baillot’s_
soirées. As the other persons present coincided with _Cherubini’s_
wish, I consented the more readily, as in the first execution of it,
some things had not gone altogether well. He now spoke very favourably
of my composition, praised its form, its thematic working out, the
rich change in the harmonies, and particularly the _fugato_ in the
last subject. But as there were still many things not quite clear to
him in the music, he begged me to repeat it a second time, when we
should next meet. I hoped he would think nothing more about it, and
therefore at the next music party brought forward another quartet.
Before I could begin, however, _Cherubini_ renewed his request, and I
was therefore obliged to play the same quartet a third time. The same
thing occurred also with Nr. 2 of Op. 45, excepting that he spoke of it
with more decisive praise, and said of the adagio: “It is the finest I
ever heard.” He was equally pleased with my pianoforte quintet with
the concerted accompaniment of wind instruments, and I was frequently
obliged to play it on that account. The first time my wife played the
piano part; but when _Moscheles_ subsequently requested permission to
study it and to play it once, she had not the courage to play it any
more in Paris, after him. He remained therefore in possession, and
entered more and more into the spirit of the composition. He executed
the two allegro subjects especially with far more energy and style,
which certainly greatly increased their effect. As the wind instruments
of _Reicha’s_ quintet were excellent, I never recollect to have heard
that quintet so perfectly rendered as then, although I have heard it
played in more recent days by many celebrated pianoforte virtuosi.
From the continual repetition of my quartets in Paris I could find no
opportunity of giving even one of my two first quintets for stringed
instruments which had been some time written. Nevertheless I found for
them a very sympathetic audience at Strasbourg, on my return journey,
to which the taste for quartet-music has more readily penetrated from
its contiguity to Germany. The quintet in _G_ major, with the half
melancholy half merry finale, became soon an especial favorite with the
friends of music there, and at their request formed the finale of every
quartet-party. In Carlsruhe, where on a former visit I had already
played quartets frequently, particularly in the house of that lover
of art Mr. _von Eichthal_, my stay this time was very much saddened
by finding the friend of my youth _Feska_ dangerously ill: he shortly
afterwards succumbed to his incurable malady.
* * * * *
Returned to Gandersheim, I resumed again, immediately, the pleasant
active life of the previous summer. _Edward Grund_ soon arrived also,
and devoted himself with his usual zeal both to his own improvement
and to the instruction of my children. I myself first began with the
composition of the already mentioned ten-voiced vocal mass, but I was
soon obliged to give it up for a short time. I received a letter from
my old friend _Hermstedt_, in which he invited me on the part of the
directors of the baths of Alexisbad in the Harz, to give a concert
in the course of the approaching season. He offered at the same time
to make all the necessary arrangements beforehand, so that I should
not require to stay there longer than a few days. He also urgently
pressed me to write a new clarinet concerto for him, and promised if
he received it sufficiently early, to play it for the first time at
the Alexisbad concert. As I liked to write for _Hermstedt_, who at
that time was without doubt the first of all living clarinet virtuosi,
I consented to his proposal, and set to work immediately. After
despatching to him the new concerto _F_ minor (the third for clarinet),
I wrote for myself and wife another pot-pourri concerted for violin and
pianoforte on two themes from the “Opferfest”--published afterwards
as Op. 56, for which I worked out anew a former composition for
clarinet with orchestral accompaniment which I had written in 1812 for
_Hermstedt_, for the celebration of Napoleon’s birthday, in Erfurt. I
considered it one of my most successful pieces, and wished by this new
elaboration of it, to make it more generally known. It may be readily
understood that in this transfer from the clarinet and orchestra to the
violin and pianoforte, very considerable modifications were requisite,
and that I could adhere chiefly only to the form and modulations of the
previous composition. By the time this piece of music had been studied
by us in the usual manner, with the greatest care, the day fixed upon
for our departure for Alexisbad arrived. Of this excursion I have now
but very faint reminiscences. I neither know what we played at the
concert, nor how the new clarinet concerto pleased, and the less so,
that since that time I have not heard it again; for it has remained
altogether in _Hermstedt’s_ hands, and has never been published. But I
recollect very distinctly a natural phenomenon by which our concert was
disturbed and for some time interrupted, as in London by the smashing
of the windows. Just as the music was about to begin, a storm, which
had threatened since noon, broke out with such violence, that what
with the rolling of the thunder and the noise of the rain that poured
down in torrents, nothing could have been heard. In the over-crowded
concert-room, which was suffocatingly hot, the closely packed auditory
were compelled to await the passing over of the storm, and the concert
could not be commenced until the air of the room had been renewed by
the opening of the doors and windows. Owing to this the concert did not
terminate till complete nightfall. The confusion and perplexity which
ensued among the departing audience now first reached their climax;
for it was found that the otherwise very modest rivulet which runs
through the valley of Alexisbad had become so swollen, and had torn
up and flooded the roads to such an extent, that the numerous company
that had come in from the neighbourhood of the town found it impossible
to return home in the darkness of night. All therefore first rushed
to the dining-room of the baths, but there no provision had been made
for such an influx of guests. As soon as the regular visitors of the
baths had retired to their apartments previous to sitting down to
dinner, the strangers seized upon their seats at the table, and upon
the eatables also, so that when the former returned they were obliged
to content themselves with what they could lay hold of. Upon this very
naturally a good deal of ill-feeling was excited, and the host had
enough to do and a hard time of it to pacify and keep the people in
bounds. Now, furthermore, it was found that to pass the night there
were neither rooms nor beds sufficient for their accommodation, and a
great number of the strangers were _nolens volens_ obliged to lie down
indiscriminately beside each other upon a shakedown of straw. Many did
it good humouredly, but others with ill-suppressed curses. For the
unconcerned spectator it was indeed a highly comical and amusing scene.
During the same summer, I received a similar invitation to go to
Pyrmont and give a concert there. I acquiesced, and proceeded thither
accompanied by my wife and my pupil _Edward Grund_, who conducted
the orchestra and very much facilitated my solo-playing by practising
the accompaniment beforehand, which alone enabled me to play my own
compositions. _Grund_ had in truth become a first-rate artist, and
began now to make musical tours with much success; which led to his
appointment as director of the court-orchestra at Meiningen, which
office he now still (1853) fills, respected by his prince and by the
members of the orchestra, and zealously exerting his energies to the
advantage of art. As upon his leaving Gandersheim, in the autumn of
1821, the musical instruction of my daughters completely ceased,
and as they gave evidence of vocal powers that appeared worthy of a
further artistic cultivation, I determined to remove to Dresden with my
family, in order to give the children the advantage of the instruction
of a then celebrated teacher of vocal music of the name of _Miksch_
in that city. To _Emilia_ I had indeed, myself already begun to give
instruction in singing, but soon found that I had neither the necessary
perseverance and patience, and that it drew my attention too much from
my work of composition. Besides this, also, I determined as soon as my
family had become somewhat settled in Dresden, to proceed alone upon
some short artistic tours in the neighbourhood. I wrote therefore to my
former pupil _Moritz Hauptmann_ in Dresden, and requested him to treat
with Mr. _Miksch_ on my behalf, and so soon as he should agree, to hire
apartments for me; shortly after which I received a reply informing me
that all my wishes had been carefully complied with.
My mass for ten voices had been meanwhile completed, and I longed very
much to hear it. As on my journey to Dresden I contemplated giving a
concert in Leipzic, and on that account should be obliged to make a
longer stay there, I bethought myself of getting it sung during the
time I was there by the grand choral-society of that town, with the
Director of which I was acquainted. I wrote to him therefore to inquire
if he felt disposed to have the work practised beforehand, and as
he replied in the affirmative, I sent the score to him to have the
voice-parts immediately written out.
The parting from Gandersheim was this time a very sad one, as the
children also, to whose society their grandfather and grandmother had
become so much accustomed, were to part from them, and I was obliged to
promise to return the next summer, even though for a short visit only.
On arriving in Leipzic, one of my first visits was to the Director of
the choral-society, to ascertain something about my mass. But what I
learned was not very satisfactory. The rehearsals it is true had been
commenced; but the work had been found so enormously difficult, and
was so imperfectly understood, that the director refused decidedly to
let me hear it. At my urgent request, however, a trial was made, which
went very badly, and as I did not nearly hear the effect which I had
pictured to myself during the inspiration of the work, I concluded that
I had produced a complete failure. After hearing it a few more times,
I resolved to make some alterations in it, in order to facilitate its
execution, and shortly after, the mass was published by _Peters_ as Op.
54. A long time afterwards, when I had almost forgotten it, some parts
of it were sung to me by the Berlin choral-academy under _Zelter’s_
direction. These had been so well studied, were intonated so clearly,
and had so imposing an effect from the combination of so many voices,
that I now became fully convinced that the work could be performed, and
conceived the desire to have it studied by my choral-society in Cassel.
This proved successful, as I did not lose my patience and the singers
were indefatigable, and the entire mass, without any omissions, was
performed in November 1827 on Saint Cecilia’s day. The experience I had
acquired during these rehearsals taught me, however, to avoid a too
great abundance of modulations and difficult chords in succession.
Arrived in Dresden, we were conducted by _Hauptmann_ to the lodgings
he had hired for us, which were pleasantly situated in a quiet part of
the town. Both my eldest girls immediately began their singing-lessons
with Mr. _Miksch_ and I then went in search of my former acquaintances
among the artists and amateurs of music, and, foremost of all, of
the orchestra director _Carl Maria von Weber_. He received me in
a very cordial manner, and by degrees introduced me into all the
musical circles, where I not only heard much good music, but had the
opportunity of playing my own chamber-music. As the musicians who
accompanied me evinced great interest in my quartet-play, this induced
me, with their assistance to give quartet parties every week at my
house, to which I invited the most ardent lovers of music in the town.
At these I brought forward, as I could not succeed in doing in Paris,
all the quartets and quintets in succession which I had written up to
that time, and as I soon got to the end of them, and they met with
great approbation from all hearers, I was encouraged to write some new
ones. In a short time, I finished two (the two first of Op. 58), and I
took such interest in this work, as well as in the whole artistic life
of Dresden, that I at once gave up my contemplated musical tour, and
deferred it to the latter end of the winter.
Meanwhile _Carl Maria von Weber_ had succeeded in obtaining the
permission to have his opera of “Der Freischütz” studied in Dresden,
after it had met with such brilliant success in Vienna and Berlin; and
the private rehearsals were already begun. As up to that time I had not
entertained a very high opinion of _Weber’s_ talent for composition,
it may be readily imagined I was not a little desirous of becoming
acquainted with that opera, in order to ascertain thoroughly by what
it had achieved such an enthusiastic admiration in the two capitals of
Germany. My interest in it was increased the more from my having worked
also a few years before, when at Frankfort on the Maine, upon the
same materials, from _Appel’s_ book of apparitions, for an opera; and
only abandoned the composition upon accidentally hearing that _Weber_
was already engaged upon it. The nearer acquaintance with the opera,
certainly did not solve for me the riddle of its enormous success; and
I could alone account for it by _Weber’s_ peculiar gift and capacity
for writing for the understanding of the mass. As I very well knew
that this gift had been denied me by nature, it is difficult for me to
explain how an unconquerable impulse should have led me nevertheless,
to attempt dramatic composition anew. But so it was! Scarcely had I
arrived home, than I took from my trunk, a half-forgotten work which
I had begun in Paris. On a tedious rainy day which in that muddy city
renders it impossible to go out of doors, I asked my landlady to lend
me a book to read. She brought me an old, well-read romance: “La Veuve
de Malabar.” I found its interesting matter would well permit of being
adapted to an opera, and I purchased it of her for a few sous, in order
to make trial of it. While in Paris, and during the journey home I
turned over in my mind the most favourable form for the composition of
the opera, and began immediately after my return to Gandersheim to make
the cast of a scene. In those hours when I did not feel disposed to
work on the composition of the mass, I progressed with it, and by the
time I removed with my family to Dresden, I had nearly completed it. I
now reconsidered and worked over anew this sketch with renewed zeal,
decided in the most precise manner everything that should take place
in each scene, and then looked out for a poet who would feel disposed
to write the opera according to this plan. Such a person I found in
Mr. _Edward Gehe_, who readily entered into my ideas. In this manner
originated the text of the opera “Jessonda.” I was just on the point of
beginning its composition, when an event took place that took off my
attention from it again for some time.