1750 TO 1800.
Giovanni Baptiste Viotti has been called the last great representative
of the classical Italian school, and it is also stated that with Viotti
began the modern school of the violin. In whatever light he may be
regarded, he was undoubtedly one of the greatest violinists of all. He
retained in his style of playing and composing the dignified simplicity
and noble pathos of the great masters of the Italian school, treating
his instrument above all as a singing voice, and keeping strictly within
its natural resources. According to Baillot, one of his most
distinguished pupils, his style was "perfection," a word which covers a
host of virtues.
Viotti was born in 1753 at Fontanetto, a village in Piedmont. His first
musical instruction was received from his father, who is severally
mentioned as a blacksmith and as a horn player. His musical talent being
early noticeable, he was sent to Turin and placed by Prince Pozzo de la
Cisterna under the tutelage of Pugnani, and was soon received into the
royal band. In 1780 he travelled extensively, visiting Germany, Poland,
and Russia, and meeting with great success. The Empress Catharine
endeavoured to induce him to remain at St. Petersburg, but without
success, and he proceeded to London, where he soon eclipsed all other
violinists. In 1782 he went to Paris and made his début at the
celebrated Concert Spirituels. He was at once acknowledged as the
greatest living violinist, but soon after this he ceased altogether to
play in public. This decision seems to have been caused by the fact that
an inferior player once achieved a greater success than he. He was
evidently of a sensitive nature, and there is an anecdote told of him
which is amusing even if its authenticity is open to question. Viotti
was commanded to play a concerto at the Court of Louis XVI., at
Versailles, and had proceeded through about half of his performance,
when the attention of the audience was diverted by the arrival of a
distinguished guest. Noise and confusion reigned where silence should
have been observed, and Viotti, in a fit of indignation, removed the
music from the desk and left the platform.
In 1783 Viotti returned to Italy for a short time, but the following
year he was back in Paris teaching, composing, and benefiting the art of
music in every way except by public performance. He became the artistic
manager of the Italian Opera, and brought together a brilliant number of
singers. In this business he came in contact with Cherubini, the
composer, with whom he was on great terms of friendship. This
enterprise was suddenly stopped by the revolution, and Viotti was
obliged to leave France, having lost almost everything that he
possessed.
He went to London and renewed his former successes, playing again in
public at Salomon's concerts, and in the drawing-rooms of the
aristocracy. But here his ill-luck followed him, for London being full
of French refugees, and the officials being suspicious of them all, he
was warned to leave England, as it was feared that he was connected with
some political conspiracy.
This misfortune occurred in 1798, and Viotti retired to a small village
called Schoenfeld, not far from Hamburg, where he lived in strict
seclusion. During this time he was by no means idle, for he composed
some of his finest works, notably the six duets for violins, which he
prefaced by these words: "This book is the fruit of leisure afforded me
by misfortune. Some of the pieces were dictated by trouble, others by
hope." It was also during this period of retirement that he perfected
his pupil Pixis, who, with his father, lived at Schoenfeld a whole
summer for the express purpose of receiving Viotti's instruction.
In 1801 Viotti found himself at liberty to visit England once more, but
when he returned he astonished the world by going into the wine
business, in which he succeeded in getting rid of the remainder of his
fortune. As a man of business the strictest integrity and honour
regulated his transactions, and his feelings were kind and benevolent,
whilst as a musician, he is said never to have been surpassed in any of
the highest qualities of violin playing.
At the close of his career as a wine merchant, he returned to Paris to
resume his regular profession, and was appointed director of the Grand
Opéra, but he failed to rescue the opera from its state of decadence,
and, finding the duties too arduous for one of his age and state of
health, he retired on a small pension. In 1822 he returned once more to
England, where he passed the remainder of his life in quietude.
While travelling in Switzerland, and enjoying the beauties of the
scenery, Viotti heard for the first time the plaintive notes of the Ranz
des Vaches given forth by a mountain horn, and this melody so impressed
him that he learned it and frequently played it on his violin. The
subject was referred to by him with great enthusiasm in his letters to
his friends.
There are numerous anecdotes about Viotti in reference to his ready
repartee and to his generous nature. One of the most interesting is that
concerning a tin violin. He had been strolling one evening on the Champs
Elysées, in Paris, with a friend (Langlé), when his attention was
arrested by some harsh, discordant sounds, which, on investigation,
proved to be the tones of a tin fiddle, played by a blind and aged
street musician. Viotti offered the man twenty francs for the curious
instrument, which had been made by the old man's nephew, who was a
tinker. Viotti took the instrument and played upon it, producing some
most remarkable effects. The performance drew a small crowd, and Langlé,
with true instinct, took the old man's hat and, passing it round,
collected a respectable sum, which was handed to the aged beggar.
When Viotti got out his purse to give the twenty francs the old man
thought better of his bargain, for, said he, "I did not know the violin
was so good. I ought to have at least double the amount for it."
Viotti, pleased with the implied compliment, did not hesitate to give
the forty francs, and then walked off with his newly acquired curiosity.
The nephew, however, who now arrived to take the old man home, on
hearing the story ran after Viotti, and offered to supply him with as
many as he would like for six francs apiece.
Violin literature owes much to Viotti, for his compositions are numerous
and contain beauties that have never been surpassed. His advice was
sought by many young musicians, and among these was Rossini, who was
destined to become great. De Bériot also sought out Viotti and played
before him, but the old violinist told him that he had already acquired
an original style which only required cultivating to lead to success,
and that he could do nothing for him.
Viotti was one of the first to use the Tourte bow, and he studied its
effects closely, so that the sweep of his bow became his great
characteristic, and was alike the admiration of his friends and the
despair of his rivals. He died in 1824, after about two years of
retirement.
Among Viotti's most prominent pupils were Roberrechts, Pixis, Alday le
jeune, Cartier, Rode, Mori, Durand, and Baillot, also Mlle. Gerbini and
Madame Paravicini. Roberrechts became the teacher of De Bériot, who in
turn taught Vieuxtemps, Teresa Milanollo, and Lauterbach. Baillot taught
Habeneck, who taught Alard, Léonard, Prume, Cuvillon, and Mazas. From
Alard we have Sarasate, and from Léonard, Marsick and Dengremont, while
through Rode we have Böhm, and from him a large number of eminent
violinists, including G. Hellmesberger, Ernst, Dont, Singer, L. Strauss,
Joachim, Rappoldi. Some of them we shall refer to at length as great
performers, others were celebrated more as teachers.
Rodolphe Kreutzer, who was born at Versailles in 1766, is the third in
order of development of the four great representative masters of the
classical violin school of Paris; the others being Viotti, first, Rode,
second, and Baillot, fourth. With Baillot he compiled the famous
"Methode de Violon" for the use of the students at the Conservatoire.
Kreutzer's first teacher was his father, who was a musician in the
king's chapel, but he was soon placed under Anton Stamitz, and at the
age of thirteen he played a concerto in public, with great success. This
is said by some writers to have been his own composition, though by
others it was attributed to his teacher.
Kreutzer made a tour through the north of Italy, Germany, and Holland,
during which he acquired the reputation of being one of the first
violinists in Europe. On his return to Paris, he turned his attention to
dramatic music, and composed two grand operas, which were performed
before the court, and secured for him the patronage of Marie Antoinette.
He also became first violin at the Opéra Comique, and professor at the
Conservatoire, where he formed some excellent pupils, among them being
D'Artot, Rovelli, the teacher of Molique, Massart, the teacher of
Wieniawski and Teresina Tua, and Lafont, who also became a pupil of De
Bériot. On Rode's departure for Russia, Kreutzer succeeded him as solo
violin at the Opéra, later becoming Chef d'Orchestre, and after fourteen
years' service in this capacity he was decorated with the insignia of
the Legion of Honour, and became General Director of the Music at the
Opéra. In 1826 he resigned his post and retired to Geneva, where he died
in 1831. Kreutzer was a prolific composer, and his compositions include
forty dramatic works and a great number of pieces for the violin.
In 1798, when Kreutzer was at Vienna in the service of the French
ambassador, Bernadotte, he made the acquaintance of Beethoven, and was
afterwards honoured by that great composer with the dedication to him of
the famous Sonata, Op. 47, which was first played by Beethoven and the
violinist Bridgetower, at the Augarten, in May, 1803, either the 17th
or the 24th. This is the sonata the name of which Count Leo Tolstoi took
for his famous book, though to the vast majority of hearers it will
always remain a mystery how the classical harmonies of the sonata could
have aroused the passions which form the _raison d'être_ of the book.
Kreutzer was noted for his style of bowing, his splendid tone, and the
clearness of his execution.
With three such masters as Baillot, Rode, and Kreutzer, besides Viotti,
who was frequently in Paris, the French school of violin playing had now
superseded the Italian.
Pierre Marie François de Sales Baillot, who was associated with Rode and
Kreutzer in the compilation of the celebrated "Methode du Violon," was
born at Passy, near Paris, in 1771, and became one of the most excellent
violinists that France ever produced. His eminence in his profession
was not obtained without a long struggle against great difficulties, for
at the age of twelve he lost his father, who had kept a school, and
became dependent upon friends for his education. His musical talent was
remarkable at an early age, and he received his first instruction from
an Italian named Polidori. At the age of nine he was placed under a
French teacher named Sainte-Marie, whose training gave him the severe
state and methodical qualities by which his playing was always
distinguished.
His love for his instrument was greatly augmented when, at the age of
ten, he heard Viotti play one of his concertos, and from that day the
great violinist became his model.
When his father died a year or two later, a government official, M. de
Boucheporn, sent him, with his own children, to Rome, where he was
placed with Pollani, a pupil of Nardini, under whom he made rapid
progress, and soon began to play in public. He was, however, unable to
follow directly in the path of his profession, and for five years he
travelled with his benefactor, acting as private secretary, and securing
but little time for his violin playing.
In 1791 he returned to Paris, and Viotti secured a place for him in the
opera orchestra, but on being offered a position in the Ministère des
Finances, he gave up his operatic work, and for some years devoted only
his leisure to the study of the violin. He now had to serve with the
army for twenty months, at the end of which time he once more determined
to take up music as a profession, and soon appeared in public with a
concerto of Viotti. This performance established his reputation, and he
was offered a professorship of violin playing at the Conservatoire, then
recently opened.
His next appointment was to the private band of Napoleon, after which
he travelled for three years in Russia with the violoncello player
Lemare, earning great fame.
Returning to Paris, he established concerts for chamber music, which
proved successful, and built up for him a reputation as an unrivalled
quartet player. He travelled again, visiting Holland, Belgium, and
England, and then he became leader of the opera band in Paris and of the
royal band. He made a final tour in Switzerland in 1833, and died in
1842.
Baillot is considered to have been the last distinguished representative
of the great classical school of violin playing in Paris. In his "L'Art
du Violon" he points out the chief distinction between the old and the
modern style of violin playing to be the absence of the dramatic element
in the former, and its predominance in the latter, thus enabling the
executive art to follow the progress marked out by the composer, and to
bring out the powerful contrasts and enlarged ideas of the modern
musical compositions. After the time of Baillot and his contemporaries
the style of Paganini became predominant in Paris, but the influence of
the Paris school extended to Germany, where Spohr must be considered the
direct descendant artistically of Viotti and Rode.
Perhaps the most illustrious pupil of Viotti was Pierre Rode, who was
born at Bordeaux in 1774, and exhibited such exceptional talent that at
the age of sixteen he was one of the violins at the Théâtre Feydeau in
Paris. He had made his début in Paris at the Théâtre de Monsieur, when
he played Viotti's thirteenth concerto with complete success. In 1794 he
began to travel, and made a tour through Holland and North Germany,
visiting England, driven there by stress of weather, on his way home. He
appeared once in London, and then left for Holland and Germany again. On
his return to France he was appointed professor of the violin at the
Conservatoire, then newly established. In 1799 ne made a trip to Spain,
where he met Boccherini. The following year he returned to Paris, where
he was made solo violinist to the First Consul, and it was at this
period that he gained his greatest success, when he played with Kreutzer
a duo concertante of the latter's composition. After this he went to
Russia, where he was enthusiastically received, and was appointed one of
the emperor's musicians. The life in Russia, however, overtaxing his
strength, from that time his powers began to fail, and he met with many
disappointments. In 1814 he married, and, although he made an
unsuccessful attempt to renew his public career, he may be said to have
retired. He died at Bordeaux in 1830.
Of Rode's playing in his best days we are told that he displayed all the
best qualities of a grand, noble, pure, and thoroughly musical style.
His intonation was perfect, his tone large and pure, and boldness,
vigour, deep and tender feeling characterised his performances. In fact
he was no mere virtuoso but a true artist. His musical nature shows
itself in his compositions, which are thoroughly suited to the nature of
the violin, and have a noble, dignified character and considerable charm
of melody, though they show only moderate creative power. He had few
pupils, but his influence through his example during his travels, and
through his compositions, was very great indeed.
Beethoven wrote for Rode, after hearing him play in Vienna, the famous
violin Romance in F, Op. 50, one of the highest possible testimonials to
Rode's ability as a violinist. It is known, however, that he was obliged
to seek assistance in scoring his own compositions, and therefore lacked
an important part of a musical education.
The most celebrated pupil of Baillot was François Antoine Habeneck, the
son of a musician in a French regimental band. During his early youth
Habeneck was taught by his father, and at the age of ten played
concertos in public. He visited many places with his father's regiment,
which was finally stationed at Brest. At the age of twenty he went to
Paris and entered the Conservatoire, where in 1804 he was awarded first
prize for violin playing, and became a sub-professor.
The Empress Josephine, on hearing him play, was so pleased that she
granted him a pension of twelve hundred francs. He became one of the
first violins at the Opéra, but his special forte was as leader of
orchestras, and he held that post at the Conservatoire, on account of
his efficiency, until 1815, when the advent of the allied armies caused
it to be closed.
Habeneck was instrumental in bringing forward the great orchestral works
of Beethoven. He became director of the Grand Opéra, and
inspector-general of the Conservatoire.
Habeneck is said to have been greatly addicted to taking snuff, and this
habit led to an amusing episode with Berlioz, which the latter regarded
in a very unfriendly light. At a public performance of the Requiem of
Berlioz, the composer had arranged with Habeneck to conduct the music,
Berlioz taking his seat close behind the conductor. The work was
commenced, and had been proceeded with some little time, when Habeneck
(presumably taking advantage of what seemed to him a favourable moment)
placed his baton on the desk, took out his snuff-box, and proceeded to
take a pinch. Berlioz, aware of the breakers ahead, rushed to the helm
and saved the wreck of his composition by beating time with his arm.
Habeneck, when the danger was passed, said, "What a cold perspiration I
was in! Without you we should assuredly have been lost." "Yes," said
the composer, "I know it well," accompanying his words with an
expression of countenance betokening suspicion of Habeneck's honesty of
purpose. The violinist little dreamed that this gratification of his
weakness for snuff-taking would be regarded in the pages of Berlioz's
Memoirs as having been indulged in from base motives.
Habeneck died in 1849. He published only a few of his compositions.
One of the most eminent violinists of the French school, who flourished
during the early part of the nineteenth century, was Charles Philippe
Lafont. Besides brilliant technical capabilities he had a sympathetic
tone and a most elegant style, and these qualities gave him a very high
position in the ranks of performers.
Lafont was born at Paris, December 7, 1781, and received his first
lessons from his mother, who afterward placed him under her brother,
Berthaume. Under his care he made a successful concert tour through
Germany and other countries as early as 1792, after which he returned to
Paris and settled down to study under Rudolf Kreutzer.
For a time his studies were interrupted by an attempt to become a
singer, and he appeared at the Théâtre Feydeau, which had then been
opened by Viotti. This diversion being soon at an end, he returned to
the violin, but on the outbreak of the revolution in France he left the
country and travelled throughout Europe, being absent from Paris, with
the exception of a short visit in 1805, until 1815.
During his travels he was made chamber virtuoso to the Czar Alexander,
and on his return to France he became first violinist of the royal
chamber musicians of Louis XVIII., and musical accompanist to the
Duchesse de Berry.
Lafont's career came to a sudden end by the overturning of a carriage
while on a concert tour in the south of France in 1839.
He was one of the numerous violinists who challenged Paganini to an
artistic duel, in which he got the worst of it, though his admirers
accounted for his defeat by the fact that the contest took place at La
Scala, in Milan, where the sympathy of the audience was in favour of the
Italian virtuoso.
Lafont was a prolific composer, but few of his works have survived. He
was also the owner of a magnificent Guarnerius violin, which is now said
to be the property of Adolf Brodsky.
As a composer Spohr probably influenced the modern style of violin
playing even more than as a player, for he lifted the concerto to the
dignity of a work of art, whereas it had formerly been simply a show
piece, though not always without merit. He set a great example of
purity of style and legitimate treatment of the instrument, and is
considered to have had a more beneficial effect on violin playing than
Paganini, who was born in the same year, 1784.
Louis Spohr was the son of a physician, who, two years after Louis was
born at Brunswick, took up his residence at Seesen, where the childhood
of the future virtuoso was passed. Both father and mother were musical,
the former playing the flute, while the latter was a pianist and singer.
It is said that young Spohr showed his talents remarkably early, and was
able to sing duets with his mother when only four years of age. At five
he began to learn the violin and at six he could take part in
Kalkbrenner's trios. He also began to compose music, and under his
father's methodical guidance acquired the habit of finishing everything
that he began to write, without erasure or alteration. His instruction
in the art of composition was confined to the mere rudiments, and he
acquired the art chiefly by studying the scores of the great composers.
Spohr's first public appearance was at a school concert, and such was
his success that he was asked to repeat the performance at a concert
given by the duke's band. More study ensued, and then, at the age of
fourteen, he undertook to make his first artistic tour, and set out for
Hamburg, carrying with him some letters of introduction.
It seems that the people of Hamburg did not show much enthusiasm over
the young artist, for he was unable to arrange a hearing, and, having
exhausted his funds, he returned to Brunswick in the time-honoured
manner of unsuccessful artists,--on foot. Spohr's experience seems to
have produced upon him the same effect that many aspiring young players
have since felt, viz., that he had better go on with his studies. He
accordingly presented a petition to the Duke of Brunswick asking for
means to carry out his desires. The duke was pleased with him, and not
only gave him a place in his band, but also agreed to pay his expenses
while he studied with one of the most eminent teachers of the day.
Neither Viotti nor Ferdinand Eck could receive him as a pupil, but by
the advice of the latter, young Spohr was placed under his brother,
Franz Eck, who was then travelling in Germany. With Franz Eck an
agreement was made by the duke, under which Spohr should travel with
him, and study _en route_. During the continuance of this agreement
Spohr practised sometimes ten hours a day, and being so constantly with
his teacher he made great progress. On his return to Brunswick he was
appointed first violinist in the duke's band, and the following year he
once more undertook a concert tour on his own account, travelling
through Saxony and Prussia, and meeting with great enthusiasm.
While in Russia he met Clementi and Field, and he was presented with a
most valuable Guarnerius violin by an enthusiast. This instrument he
lost while on the way to France, where he intended to make a concert
tour. Just before entering Göttingen the portmanteau which contained the
violin was taken from the coach, and owing to the delays of officialism
it was never recovered. The thieves had been seen with the booty in
their possession, but in order to arrest them it was necessary to travel
some nine miles for the necessary warrant and officer. In the meantime
they had disappeared, as thieves occasionally do.
In 1805 Spohr was appointed concert-master in the band of the Duke of
Gotha, and while holding this position he met, wooed, and wedded the
Fraülein Dorothea Scheidler, an excellent harp player, who for many
years afterwards appeared with him in all his concerts, and for whom he
wrote many solo pieces as well as some sonatas for violin and harp. In
view of this important step the following description of Spohr's
personal appearance may be interesting: "The front of Jove himself is
expressed in the expansive forehead, massive, high, and broad; the
speaking eyes that glance steadfastly and clearly under the finely
pencilled arches of the eyebrows, which add a new grace to their
lustrous fire; the long, straight nose with sharply curved nostrils,
imperial with the pride of sensibility and spiritual power; the firm,
handsome mouth, and the powerful chin, with its strong outlines melted
into the utter grace of oval curves. In its calmness and repose, in its
subdued strength and pervading serenity, it is the picture of the man's
life in little." Spohr seems to have been somewhat attractive.
Another authority tells us, in less flowery language, that he was of
herculean frame and very strong constitution.
In 1807 he made a tour, with his wife, through Germany, and while at
Munich the king showed his gallantry to Madame Spohr in a most gracious
manner. The usher had neglected to place a chair on the platform for
her, and the king handed up his own gilded throne chair, in spite of her
protestations. The anecdote would be more satisfactory if it stated what
the king sat upon during the concert, but that is left to the
imagination. The king had some bad habits, and, we are told, was very
fond of playing cards during the concerts. Spohr was not accustomed to
having his audiences indulge in cards, and so informed the chamberlain,
absolutely declining to play unless the cards were put aside for the
time being. It was a delicate task that fell to the lot of the
chamberlain, but he carried it through with the greatest diplomacy, each
side making a slight concession: the king on his part promising to
abstain from card playing during Spohr's performance on condition that
the violinist's two pieces should immediately follow each other on the
program, and Spohr withdrawing his embargo from the whole concert on
condition that the king would abstain from his favourite amusement
during his particular performance. The king, however, seems to have put
in the last blow, for on the conclusion of the violin solos he gave no
signal for applause, and as it would be a breach of court manners for
any one to applaud without his Majesty's consent, the artist was obliged
to make his bow and retire amidst deathly silence.
In 1808 Spohr wrote his first opera, but although it was accepted for
representation, it was never performed in public.
During this year Napoleon held his celebrated congress of princes at
Erfurt. Spohr was consumed by a burning desire to behold Napoleon and
the surrounding princes, and went to Erfurt. Here he found that a
French theatrical troupe was performing every evening before the august
assembly, but only the privileged few could by any possibility gain
admittance to the theatre. Spohr's ingenuity was equal to the emergency,
and making friends with the second horn player, he induced that artist
to allow him to substitute for him one night. Spohr had never in his
life attempted to play the horn, but it was now necessary for him to
acquire the art before night, and he set to work with such vim that by
the time of the performance his lips were swollen and black, but he was
able to produce the requisite tones. The orchestra having received
strict injunctions to sit with their backs to the brilliant assembly,
probably to protect their eyesight from its dazzling effects, Spohr
fitted himself out with a small mirror, and placing this upon his
music-rack, he was able to enjoy for a couple of hours the vision of the
great Napoleon, who, with his most distinguished guests, occupied the
front row of the stalls.
Spohr remained at Gotha until 1813, when he was offered and accepted the
post of the leadership at the Theatre an der Wien at Vienna, and while
here he composed his opera of "Faust," which, however, was not produced
at that time. He also wrote a cantata in celebration of the battle of
Leipzig, which he did not succeed in producing, and not feeling
satisfied with his position, and having various disagreements with the
management, the engagement was cancelled by mutual consent. During his
stay in Vienna Spohr was frequently in contact with Beethoven, and
though he admired that great master he criticised some of his
compositions very severely, and is said to have remarked that "Beethoven
was wanting in aesthetic culture and sense of beauty," a remark
difficult to understand in these later days. It is the more
incomprehensible from the fact that Spohr in after years was the very
first musician of eminence to interest himself in Wagner's talent, for
he brought out at Cassel "Der Fliegende Holländer," and continued with
"Tannhäuser," notwithstanding the opposition of the court. He considered
Wagner to be by far the greatest of all dramatic composers living at
that time. In 1815 he made a concert tour in France and Italy, during
which he met Rossini and Paganini, playing at Venice a sinfonia
concertante of his own composition, with the latter.
On his return to Germany in 1817 Spohr was appointed conductor of the
Opera at Frankfort-on-the-Main, where his opera "Faust" was now
produced, also "Zemire and Azor." Owing to difficulties with managers
again he left Frankfort after a stay of only two years, and his next
venture was a visit to England, where he appeared at the concerts of the
Philharmonic Society in London. His success was brilliant, for his
clear style and high artistic capacity, added to his reputation as a
composer, carried him into popularity, and the artistic world vied with
the public in doing honour to him. At his farewell concert, his wife
made her last appearance as a harp player, for on account of ill-health
she was obliged to give it up, and thereafter she played only the
pianoforte.
On his way home from England Spohr visited Paris for the first time, and
made the personal acquaintance of Kreutzer, Viotti, Habeneck, Cherubini,
and other eminent musicians, who received him with the greatest
cordiality. But the public did not seem to appreciate his merits, for
his quiet, unpretentious style was not quite in keeping with the taste
of the French.
On his return to Germany Spohr settled in Dresden, and remained there
until 1822, when he became Hofkapellmeister to the Elector of
Hesse-Cassel, and he remained in Cassel for the rest of his life. This
position he obtained on the advice of Weber.
In 1831 he completed his great "Violin School," which has ever since its
publication been considered a standard work. The following year the
political disturbances interfered with the opera performances at Cassel,
and caused him much annoyance. In 1834 he lost his wife, but his work of
composition proceeded with vigour.
In 1839 he again visited England, where his music had become very
popular, and during the remainder of his career he repeated his visit
several times, many of his works being produced by the various
societies.
His life at Cassel was not free from cares and friction, and he was
subjected to many indignities and annoyances by the elector. Perhaps his
sympathy with the revolutionists of 1848 was the chief cause of these
petty persecutions. When Spohr married his second wife, Marianne
Pfeiffer, the elector objected, and only gave his reluctant consent when
Spohr agreed to waive the right of his wife to a pension. All his
proposals were met with opposition. "Tannhäuser" was produced and well
received, but a repetition of the performance was not allowed, and
"Lohengrin" was ordered to be withdrawn from rehearsal, for Wagner was
one of the revolutionists and was obliged to live in seclusion.
America is indebted to this revolution of 1848 for some excellent
musicians, for the Germania Orchestra, an organisation of young
revolutionists, sought these shores, and after a prosperous career,
begun under great trials and discouragements, the various members
settled in different cities and became identified with the musical life
of the nation.
In 1851 the elector refused to sign the permit for Spohr's two months'
leave of absence, to which he was entitled under his contract, and when
the musician departed without the permit, a portion of his salary was
deducted. In 1857 he was pensioned off, much against his own wish, and
in the winter of the same year he had the misfortune to break his arm,
an accident which put an end to his violin playing. Nevertheless he
conducted his opera "Jessonda" at the fiftieth anniversary of the Prague
Conservatorium in the following year, with all his old-time energy. In
1859 he died at Cassel.
Through all his long career Spohr had lived up to the ideal he had
conceived in his youth. He was a man of strong individuality, and
invariably maintained the dignity of his art with unflinching
independence. Even the mistakes that he made, as for instance his
criticism of Beethoven, bore the strongest testimony to his manly
straightforwardness and sincerity in word and deed. He was a most
prolific composer, leaving over two hundred works in all. His violin
concertos stand foremost among his works, and are distinguished as much
by noble and elevated ideas as by masterly thematic treatment, yet there
is a certain monotony of treatment in all, and his style and manner are
entirely his own.
As an executant Spohr stands among the greatest of all time. In slow
movements he played with a breadth and beauty of tone, and a delicacy
and refinement of expression almost unequalled. His hands were of
exceptional size and strength, and enabled him to execute the most
difficult double stops and stretches with the greatest facility. Even in
quick passages he preserved a broad, full tone, and his staccato was
brilliant and effective. He disliked the use of the "springing bow,"
which came with the modern style of playing.
Spohr had a great many pupils, of whom the best known were Ries, Ferd.
David, Blagrove, Bargheer, Kömpel, and Henry Holmes. He was also
considered one of the best conductors of his time, and introduced into
England the custom of conducting with a baton.
Amongst the amusing episodes in the life of Spohr was one which took
place in London, when a servant brought him a letter desiring M. Spohr
to "be present at four o'clock to-morrow evening at the closet of the
undersigned," Spohr had not the faintest idea as to the identity of "the
undersigned," nor the least inkling of that gentleman's design. He
therefore replied that he had an engagement at that time. To this note
he received another polite epistle asking him to be good enough to
honour the "undersigned" with an interview, and to choose his own time.
He therefore made an appointment, which he kept punctually, and on
arriving at the house to which he was directed, he found an old
gentleman, who was very genial, but who could speak neither French nor
German. As Spohr spoke no English the communication between them was of
necessity carried on by pantomime. The old gentleman led the way into a
room, the walls of which were literally covered with violins, from which
Spohr gathered the idea that he was to pick out that which he considered
the best. After trying them all he had to decide between the merits of
half a dozen, and, when he finally gave his opinion, the gentleman
seemed delighted, and offered him a five pound note to compensate him
for his trouble. This the violinist declined to accept, for he had found
as much enjoyment as his host, and considered it a privilege to be able
to examine such a fine collection of beautiful instruments. The
gentleman found a way of satisfying his ideas of compensation by buying
tickets to the value of ten pounds, for one of Spohr's concerts.
Among the most talented violinists of the early part of the nineteenth
century was Karl Joseph Lipinski, the son of a Polish violin player
whose gifts were uncultivated. He was born in Poland, in 1790, at a
small town named Radzyn. After learning, with the aid of his father, to
play the violin, he took up the 'cello, and taught himself to play that
instrument, and in later days he attributed his full tone on the violin
to the power which his 'cello practice gave to his bow arm.
Lipinski seems to have been an energetic and original man. He was in the
habit of appearing at concerts both as violinist and 'cellist. He was
unable to play the piano, so when he was conductor of the opera at
Lemberg he directed with the violin, and frequently had to play two
parts, which gave him great command over his double stops. When the fame
of Paganini reached him he set forth to Italy, that he might profit by
hearing the great virtuoso, and when the opportunity came at Piacenza,
he distinguished himself by being the only person in the audience to
applaud the first adagio. After the concert he was introduced to
Paganini, and he did not fail to improve the acquaintance, frequently
visiting Paganini and playing with him, sometimes even in his concerts.
Lipinski declined the honour of going on a concert tour with Paganini,
as he wished to return to his home. On stopping at Trieste he heard of
an old man, over ninety years of age, who had once been a pupil of
Tartini, and sought him out in order to "get some points" on Tartini's
style. The old man, Doctor Mazzurana, declared himself too old to play
the violin, but suggested that if Lipinski would play a Tartini sonata
he would tell him if his style reminded him of the great master. It did
not, but Doctor Mazzurana brought out of a cupboard a volume of
Tartini's sonatas having letter-press under the music, and this Lipinski
was ordered to read in a loud tone and with all possible expression.
Then he had to play the sonata, and after numerous attempts and
corrections, the old man began to applaud his efforts. Lipinski ever
afterwards profited by these lessons.
Later on he met Paganini again at Warsaw, where they were rivals, for
the time being, and different factions waxed warm over their respective
merits. Paganini himself, who is said to have been asked whom he
considered to be the greatest violinist, replied, with conscious
modesty, "The _second_ greatest is certainly Lipinski."
Lipinski travelled throughout Europe, meeting with great success, until
in 1839 he was appointed concert-meister at the Royal Opera in Dresden,
where he remained for many years. He also organised a string quartet,
and was considered a most excellent performer of chamber-music. He wrote
a large quantity of music for the violin, but little of it was of a
lasting quality. In 1861 he was pensioned, and retired to Urlow, near
Lemberg, where he had some property, and there he died in December of
the same year.