1800 TO 1830.
Paganini was an epoch-making artist. He revolutionised the art of violin
playing, and to his influence, or through his example, were developed
the modern French and Belgian schools. While Paganini was a genius, a
great musician, and a wonderful violinist, he combined with these
qualities that of a trickster, and the exponents of the modern French
school adopted some of the less commendable features of Paganini's
playing, while the Belgian school followed the more serious lines, and
became a much sounder school.
Alard, Dancla, and Maurin were exponents of the French school, while in
that of Belgium we have De Bériot, Massart, Vieuxtemps, Léonard,
Wieniawski.
Lambert Joseph Massart was born at Liège in 1811, and was first taught
by an amateur named Delavau, who, delighted with the remarkable talent
displayed by his young pupil, succeeded in securing for him, from the
municipal authorities of Liège, a scholarship which enabled him to go to
Paris.
On his arrival at the Conservatoire, Cherubini, who was splenetive and
rash, refused him admission without assigning any reason for his
decision, but Rudolph Kreutzer took upon his shoulders the task of
forming the future artist.
Notwithstanding Massart's great talent and excellent capabilities as an
artist, he never became a success as a concert player, because of his
inordinate shyness, but as a teacher few have equalled him.
Sir Charles Hallé, in his autobiography, tells a good anecdote
concerning Massart's shyness and modesty. Massart was to play, with
Franz Liszt, a program which included the Kreutzer sonata. Just as the
sonata was begun a voice from the audience called out "Robert le
Diable," referring to Liszt's brilliant fantasia on themes from that
opera, which he had recently composed, and had played several times with
immense success. The call was taken up by other voices, and the sonata
was drowned. Liszt rose and bowed, and presently, in response to the
continued applause, he said: "I am always the humble servant of the
public. But do you wish to hear the fantasia before or after the
sonata?"
Renewed cries of "Robert" were the only reply, upon which Liszt turned
half around to Massart and dismissed him with a wave of the hand, but
without a word of excuse or apology. Liszt's performance roused the
audience to a perfect frenzy, but Massart nevertheless most dutifully
returned and played the Kreutzer sonata, which fell entirely flat after
the dazzling display of the great pianist.
Few teachers have formed as many distinguished pupils as Massart, for in
1843 he was appointed professor of violin at the Paris Conservatoire,
where his energy, care, exactness, and thoroughness brought him an
immense reputation. Lotto, Wieniawski, Teresina Tua, and a host of other
distinguished violinists studied under him: among them also was Charles
M. Loeffler, of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.
Massart was also an excellent quartet player and gave many delightful
chamber concerts, with his wife, who was a pianist. He died in Paris,
February 13, 1892.
Charles Auguste de Bériot, who holds a position of great importance in
the history of violin playing and composition, was born in 1802 at
Louvain. He had the misfortune to be left an orphan at the age of nine.
His parents were of noble extraction, but at their death he was left
entirely without fortune, and was taken in charge by M. Tiby, a
professor of music, who had noticed the little boy's love of the musical
art, and had already taught him to such good purpose that he was able
even at that time to play one of Viotti's concertos in public so
skilfully that he received the hearty applause of the audience. He also
took lessons of Roberrechts, one of Viotti's most noted pupils.
De Bériot was a youth of contemplative mind and of high moral character.
He formed the acquaintance of the scholar and philosopher Jacotot, who
imbued him with principles of self-reliance, and exerted an influence
over him which lasted throughout his life.
De Bériot learned from his guide, philosopher, and friend that
"perseverance triumphs over all obstacles," and that "we are not willing
to do all that we are able to do."
At the age of nineteen De Bériot went to Paris, taking with him a letter
of introduction to Viotti, who was then the director of music at the
Opéra, and he succeeded in gratifying his greatest ambition, which was
to be heard by that illustrious violinist.
Viotti gave him the following advice: "You have a fine style. Give
yourself up to the business of perfecting it. Hear all men of talent,
profit by everything, but imitate nothing."
De Bériot applied himself assiduously to his studies, entering the Paris
Conservatoire and taking lessons of Baillot. In a few months, however,
he withdrew from the Conservatoire and relied upon his own resources. He
soon began to appear in concerts, generally playing compositions of his
own, which won him universal applause by their freshness and originality
as much as by his finished execution and large style of cantabile.
In 1826 he went to London from Paris, his first appearance taking place
on May 1st, before the Philharmonic Society. Wherever he appeared,
either in London or the provinces, he was greeted with enthusiasm, and
he established a lasting reputation.
His appearance in England antedated that of Paganini by about five
years, and it has been questioned whether the impression which he made
would have been less if he had appeared after instead of before the
great Italian. It seems, however that De Bériot continued to meet with
success even after the advent of Paganini. His playing was distinguished
by unfailing accuracy of intonation, great neatness and facility of
bowing, grace, elegance, and piquancy.
After travelling for some years he returned to Belgium, where he was
appointed solo violin to the King of the Netherlands. He had held the
position but a short time when the revolution of 1830 broke out and
deprived him of it.
He returned to Paris, and now began the most romantic portion of his
life. Madame Malibran, whose brilliant career was then at its height,
was singing in opera, and De Bériot became acquainted with her. The
acquaintance ripened into the most intimate friendship, and in 1832 a
concert company was formed, consisting of Malibran, De Bériot, and Luigi
Lablache, the celebrated and gigantic basso. They made a tour of Italy,
meeting with the most extraordinary success.
De Bériot and the beautiful Madame Malibran were now inseparable.
Malibran had for some years been living apart from her husband, an
American merchant, who, with the view of supporting himself by her
talents, had married her when on the brink of financial collapse. In
1835 she succeeded in securing a divorce from him, and then she married
De Bériot.
A few months after their marriage Malibran was thrown from her horse
and sustained internal injuries of such severity that she died after an
illness of nine days, and De Bériot became frantic with grief.
More than a year elapsed before he could at all recover from the effects
of his irreparable loss, and his first appearance in concert, after this
tragic event, was when Pauline Garcia, the sister of Madame Malibran,
made her first début in a concert at Brussels given for the benefit of
the poor.
In 1841 De Bériot married Mlle. Huber, daughter of a magistrate of
Vienna. He returned to Brussels, and became director of the violin
classes at the Conservatoire, after which he ceased giving concerts. He
remained in this position until 1852, when failing eyesight caused him
to retire, and he died at Louvain in 1870.
Before his acquaintance with Madame Malibran, De Bériot was a suitor for
the hand of Mlle. Sontag, and her rejection of him threw him into a
state of despondency, from which it required the brilliancy and wit of
Malibran to rouse him.
De Bériot left a number of compositions which abound in pleasing
melodies, have a certain easy, natural flow, and bring out the
characteristic effects of the instrument in the most brilliant manner.
There are seven concertos, eleven "airs variées," several books of
studies, four trios and a number of duets for piano and violin. His
"Violin School" has been published in many languages and used a great
deal by students.
Delphin Jean Alard was at one time a favourite violinist in France. In
1842 he succeeded Baillot as professor of violin at the Conservatoire in
Paris. He was first soloist in the royal band, to which post he was
appointed in 1858, and he was presented with the Cross of the Legion of
Honour.
Alard was born at Bayonne in March, 1815, and was well taught from his
earliest youth. He appeared in concerts at the age of ten, and at
twelve entered the Paris Conservatoire, where he became a pupil of
Habeneck, while Fétis taught him composition. He was the winner of
numerous prizes, and he also wrote a great deal of music for the violin.
His greatest pupil was Sarasate.
Alard married the daughter of Vuillaume, one of the best violin makers
of France, and through him became the owner of one of the most beautiful
Stradivarius violins. Alard died in Paris, February 22, 1881.
Hubert Léonard was born at Bellaire, near Liège, in 1819, but unlike the
majority of violinists he did not appear in concerts at an early age,
nor did he enter the Paris Conservatoire until he was seventeen. At this
time the wife of a wealthy merchant in Brussels took interest in him and
provided the means necessary for him to go to Paris. In 1844 he appeared
at Leipzig, and created a deep impression by the beauty of his tone and
his elegant performance. He travelled through Europe and played chiefly
his own compositions, of which there are a great many, but his greatest
fame was earned after he was appointed professor at the Brussels
Conservatoire, where he had many pupils, of whom the most celebrated is,
perhaps, Martin Marsick.
Concerning the merits of Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst there seems to be a wide
difference of opinion between various commentators. He was a man of
warm, impulsive nature, whose playing was distinguished by great
boldness in the execution of technical difficulties of the most
hazardous nature. His tone had a peculiar charm, and at the same time
his fiery, impetuous nature and uneven disposition led to certain
occasional errors in technique and faulty intonation. Nevertheless, he
was one of the most welcome performers in the concert halls of Europe
for a number of years. He was a thorough musician and a good composer,
though his works are so full of technical difficulties as to be almost
impossible of performance. Indeed it is said that some of them contained
difficulties which even he could not always overcome.
Born in Moravia at the town of Brünn in 1814, he entered the Vienna
conservatory, and in 1830 made his first concert tour through Munich and
Paris. Paganini was at that time travelling in Europe, and Ernst, in the
desire to learn something from this great artist, followed him from town
to town, and endeavoured to model his own playing upon the style of the
Italian virtuoso, an effort which seems to have brought down upon him
the censure of some critics, but which others have considered highly
praiseworthy.
In 1832 he settled in Paris, where he studied hard under De Bériot, and
played in concerts frequently. After 1844 he lived chiefly in England,
where he was highly appreciated, until the approach of his fatal
disease made it necessary for him to give up, first, public
performances, and then violin playing of any kind. He died at Nice after
eight years of intense suffering, in 1865.
When Ernst died the critic of the _Atheneum_ compared him with other
players of his day in the following words: "Less perfection in his
polish, less unimpeachable in the diamond lustre and clearness of his
tone, than De Bériot, Ernst had as much elegance as that exquisite
violinist, with greater depth of feeling. Less audaciously inventive and
extravagant than Paganini, he was sounder in taste, and, in his music,
with no lack of fantasy, more scientific in construction.... The secret,
however, of Ernst's success, whether as a composer or a virtuoso, lay in
his expressive power and accent. There has been nothing to exceed these
as exhibited by him in his best days. The passion was carried to its
utmost point, but never torn to tatters, the freest use of _tempo
rubato_ permitted, but always within the limits of the most just
regulation."
Among the violinists of this period (those who were born between 1800
and 1830) will be found those who first visited the United States. In
1843 Ole Bull found his way to these shores, and in the following year
both Vieuxtemps and Artot were giving concerts in New York. A kind of
triangular duel took place, for the admirers of Artot and Vieuxtemps,
who were chiefly the French residents of the city, endeavoured to
belittle the capabilities of Ole Bull, who nevertheless appears to have
been very successful, and if anything, to have benefited by the
competition. Musical culture was, at that time, in a very low state in
America, and one may judge somewhat of its progress by the press
criticisms of the artists who visited the country from time to time. It
will be seen that those who, like Ole Bull, Sivori, and Remenyi,
applied their talents to the elaboration of popular airs and operatic
themes were able to elicit the warmest praise. Vieuxtemps appears to
have appealed to the cultured minority and was understood and
appreciated by very few.
Flowery language was used without stint, and was frequently misapplied
in the most ludicrous manner, as will be seen by the following extract:
"Since the death of his great master, the weird Paganini, Ole Bull
had been left without a rival in Europe. Herwig, Nagel, Wallace,
Artot, and De Bériot can only 'play second fiddle' to this king of
the violin. His entrance upon the stage is remarkably modest, and
after the Parisian graces of Artot seems a little awkward; a tip of
his bow brings a crash from the orchestra. He then lays his cheek
caressingly on the instrument, which gradually awakes, and wails,
and moans, like an infant broken of its slumber. Every tone seems
fraught with human passion. At one time he introduces a dialogue,
in which a sweet voice complains so sadly that it makes the heart
ache with pity, which is answered from another string with
imprecations so violent and threatening that one almost trembles
with fear. We fancied that a young girl was pleading for the life
of her lover, and receiving only curses in reply. At the close of
the first piece, the 'Adagio Maestoso,' there was one universal
shout of applause, which afforded an infinite relief to a most
enthusiastic house that had held its breath for fifteen minutes.
Ole Bull came before the curtain and bowed, with his hand upon his
heart. There is something different in his performance from that of
any other artist, and yet it is difficult to describe the
peculiarity of his style, except that he touches all the strings at
once, and plays a distinct accompaniment with the fingers of his
right hand. But the charm is in the genius of the man and the
grandeur of his compositions. He knows how to play upon the silver
cord of the heart which binds us to a world of beauty, and vibrates
only when touched by a master hand."
The sentiments and emotions aroused in the breast of this critic appear
to have been those with which Paganini inspired his audience, when he
played a duet on two strings, as related in an earlier chapter. Ole Bull
was a child of nature, he gave his audience a description of the
beauties of nature, and behold! it is interpreted as a story of human
passions,--a high tribute to descriptive music.
The following criticism seems more in keeping with the ideas known to
have been held by the violinist, and almost leads one to imagine that
the critic was fortunate enough to obtain an interview with the virtuoso
before writing his account:
"FEBRUARY, 1844.
"To what shall we compare Ole Bull's playing? Was it like some
well-informed individual who has seen the world and who spices his
tales of men and things with song and story--now describing the
beauties of Swiss scenery, now repeating the air which he caught up
one moonlight night on the Bosphorus, and anon relating a stirring
joke which he gleaned on the Boulevard. Such a man would create an
impression on any small tea-party, but that violin did more--the
comparison fails. There might be to him who chose to give rein to
his fancy a vision at one moment of the old ivy-covered church and
the quiet graveyard, the evening sun streaming through the rich
stained glass, the organ faintly heard through the long aisles and
the deep chancel, and around and about the singing of some bird of
late hours, and the hum of the bee as he flew by, well laden, to
his storehouse of sweets.
"Then the clouds flew fearfully, and the wind moaned through the
boughs of the old oak-tree in its winter dishabille, and so down to
the seashore, when it rushed over cliffs and crags and knocked off
the caps of the mad waves and sped on like a tyrant, crashing
everything in its way and rejoicing in its might. And so we glided
oddly but easily enough into the ballroom, where mirth and
laughter, bright eyes, fairy feet, and all that was good and
pleasant to behold flitted by. It was not all music that Ole Bull's
violin gave out. There were old memories and pleasant ones, ideas
which shaped themselves into all manners of queer visions; and the
main difference between Ole Bull and those I have heard before him
seemed to me to consist in this--that whereas many others may
excite and hold by the button, as it were, the organ of hearing and
the mind therewith immediately connected, Ole Bull awakens the
other senses along with it and occupies them in the field of
imagination."
In 1846 came Sivori, and in 1848 Remenyi, both artists whose desire to
please their audiences took them far from the path of the highest
musical standard. It may be said with truth that the country was hardly
ready for musicianship of the highest quality, and even in 1872, when
Wieniawski came with the great pianist and composer, Rubinstein, the two
were accepted on their reputation rather than on their merits, which
were understood by a comparatively small proportion of their audiences.
Although several violinists endeavoured to copy Paganini's style, or at
least to learn as much as possible from hearing and seeing him play,
there was only one, excepting Catarina Calcagno, who received direct
instruction from him, and on whom his mantle was said, by his admirers,
to have fallen. That one was Camillo Sivori, born at Genoa, June 6,
1817.
[Illustration: CAMILLO SIVORI]
The connecting link between Sivori and Paganini began very early in the
career of the former. Indeed it is said that the excitement of his
mother, on hearing Paganini play at a concert, caused the premature
birth of the future disciple of the great artist. Marvellous stories
are told of Sivori's infancy. At the age of eighteen months, before he
had ever seen or heard a violin player, he continually amused himself by
using two pieces of stick after the manner of the violin and bow, and
singing to himself. It is fair to say that similar precocity in other
children has not always resulted in virtuosity. A case might be cited of
a very young person who amused himself by inverting a small chair, and
imagining that he was a street organist, but he grew to maturity without
adopting that profession.
At two years of age, the account continues, he cried out lustily for a
violin, and when his father, reduced to submission by the boy's
importunity, bought him a child's violin, he at once began to apply
himself, morning, noon, and night, to practising on this instrument, and
without any aid he was able in a short time to play many airs he had
heard his sisters play or sing. His renown spread through Genoa, and he
was invited everywhere. At concerts and parties he was placed upon a
table to play, and he was frequently called upon to perform before the
king and the queen-dowager. He must have been a most wilful and
embarrassing child, for the account goes on to say that he would not
enter a church unless he heard music; but on the other hand, if he did
hear music he insisted on going in, or else he would scream and make a
terrible scene.
These anecdotes, told by an effusive admirer, seem rather ridiculous,
but when Paganini visited Genoa, and Sivori was six years old, the
virtuoso took a great deal of interest in the little fellow and gave him
lessons. He also wrote a concerto for him, and six short sonatas with
accompaniment for guitar, tenor, and 'cello, and these the young artist
soon played in public. In six months Paganini left Genoa and desired to
take his young pupil with him, but this was not allowed by the parents,
and Sivori was placed under the tuition of Costa. Three years later
Paganini returned to Genoa, and by his advice his protégé was placed
under M. Dellepaine, who taught him taste and expression, his lessons
with Costa in technique continuing. In 1827 Sivori made a concert tour
with M. Dellepaine, and visited Paris, where his playing at the
Conservatoire won him great applause. He also appeared in England, after
which he entered upon another serious course of study for several years,
and perfected the tone which enraptured the world for so long, and at
the same time he studied composition under Serra.
In 1839 his concert tours began again, and he visited Germany, Russia,
Belgium, and Paris, where he played at the Conservatoire concerts and
received the medal of honour.
Sivori now set out on extensive travels, and, after visiting England,
proceeded, in 1846, to America, travelling through the United States,
Mexico, and various parts of South America, spending eight years in
these peregrinations, and amassing a considerable fortune. During this
great tour he met with many adventures, frequently travelling on
horseback, and at one time being at death's door with yellow fever. On
his return to Europe he shared the fate of many musicians who have
achieved financial success, and lost his money by unfortunate
investment, which made it necessary for him to resume his travels. He
therefore visited Great Britain, Switzerland, Germany, Spain, Portugal,
etc.
He was, of course, compared to many of the great violinists of his time,
who all had their special merits. One criticism, in which Sivori is
compared with Spohr, may be interesting: "Spohr is of colossal stature,
and looks more like an ancient Roman than a Brunswicker; Sivori is the
antithesis of Spohr in stature. Spohr has the severe phlegmatic
Teutonic aspect; Sivori has the flashing Italian eye and variability of
feature. Spohr stands firm and still; Sivori's body is all on the swing,
he tears the notes, as it were, from his instrument. Spohr's refinement
and polish have been the characteristics of his playing; in Sivori it is
wild energy--the soul in arms--the determination to be up and doing--the
daring impulse of youthful genius. Spohr's playing is remarkable for its
repose and finish; Sivori electrifies by the most powerful appeals to
the affections."
Sivori was a man of generous impulses, and was seldom appealed to in
vain to assist in a good cause. When his teacher, M. Dellepaine, was
taken ill and was unable temporarily to fill his post of first violin at
the theatre, and of director of the conservatoire at Genoa, Sivori
replaced him in both and gave him the entire benefit of his services.
After two years the teacher died, and Sivori still held the two places
an entire year for the benefit of the widow, until a situation was
procured for her which enabled her to live without further assistance.
At one time Sivori felt that the instrument which he played was not so
perfect as to satisfy him. He asked Paganini to sell him one, and the
reply was, "I will not sell you the violin, but I will present it to you
in compliment to your high talents." Sivori travelled to Nice to receive
the instrument from his master's own hands. Paganini was then--it was in
1840--in a deplorable condition, and could hardly speak. He signified a
desire to hear his pupil play once more, and Sivori, withdrawing to a
room a little way off, so that the sound of the instrument would not be
too loud, played whatever Paganini called for. About two weeks later
Paganini died.
In 1851 Hallé wrote of him as follows:
"Sivori was here lately, but caused little furore; such rubbish as the
man plays now I had never heard, and really, as an artist, felt ashamed
of him."
Sivori continued to play in public until 1864, when he visited London
and played at the Musical Union and elsewhere, but his triumph in Paris
in 1862 must not be forgotten. On that occasion he executed Paganini's B
minor concerto, and aroused immense enthusiasm, although he played
immediately after Alard, who was at that time a prime favourite. During
his later years Sivori lived in retirement, and he died February 18,
1894.
He was the first person allowed to play on the celebrated violin which
Paganini bequeathed to the city of Genoa. He was also the first to play,
with orchestra, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in England. This
performance was at the Philharmonic Society concert, June 29, 1846.
Henry Vieuxtemps was one of the greatest violinists of his time. He was
born at Verviers, in Belgium, in 1820, and was brought up in a musical
atmosphere. So early did his talent develop, that he played a concerto
of Rode in public at the age of six, and the following year made a tour
with his father and his teacher, Lecloux, during which he had the good
fortune to meet De Bériot, before whom he played. During four years he
remained a pupil of De Bériot, and when that artist left Paris, in 1831,
Vieuxtemps went to Brussels, where he practised hard, but without a
teacher, until 1833, when he again set out on a prolonged concert tour.
From this time on he seems to have spent the greater part of his time in
travelling, for which he had a passion. He visited all parts of Europe
and met most of the celebrated musicians of the day. Spohr, Molique,
Schumann, Paganini, Henselt, and Richard Wagner were among the
celebrities whom he met, and in his tours he was associated with
Servais, Thalberg, and other well-known artists.
Not content with Europe as a field for conquest, he visited America in
1844, and again in 1857 and in 1870.
He was offered many excellent positions, some of which he held for a
time and others he declined. In 1845 he married Josephine Eder, an
eminent pianist of Vienna, and shortly after was appointed solo
violinist to the Emperor of Russia, relinquishing that post six years
later in order to travel again. He was professor at the Brussels
conservatoire from 1871 to 1873, and in 1872 he was elected a member of
the Academic Royale of Belgium, on which occasion he read a memoir of
Étienne Jean Soubre.
In 1868 he suffered a double bereavement through the deaths, first of
his father, and a short time later of his wife, and, to divert his mind
from these troubles, he undertook a tour which lasted three years.
During 1873 his active career was cut short by a stroke of paralysis
which disabled his left side. He now travelled for health's sake, and
went to Algiers, where he lived quietly for several years. His life was
brought to an end by a drunken Arab, who threw a large stone at him
while he was riding in his carriage one day, striking him on the head.
As a violinist Vieuxtemps possessed a wonderful staccato, both on the up
and down bow. His intonation was perfect. He was fond of strong dramatic
accents and contrasts. As a composer for the violin he had wider success
than any one since Spohr, but while some of his works contain really
fine ideas worked out with much skill, others are merely show pieces of
no particular value.
As a man Vieuxtemps had a gay and restless disposition. He was not
easily depressed by trifles, and he enjoyed the freedom of a life of
constant change and travel, and it was during his travels that most of
his best compositions were written.
During the last few years of his active life, after his paralytic stroke
had prevented his playing, he suffered much from his inability to
demonstrate to his pupils the way in which certain passages should be
played. Frequent outbursts of rage ensued, of which his pupils were
obliged to bear the brunt, even to being prodded with his iron-shod
stick. Sometimes scenes more amusing would occur, as when some grandees
would visit the class, and Vieuxtemps would change his manner from
smiles and affability while addressing them, to scowls and grimaces
while talking to his pupils, the latter, of course, being invisible to
the visitors.
When Vieuxtemps visited America in 1857, he was associated with
Thalberg, the pianist, and together they visited many towns and cities.
Amongst the gems of American newspaper criticism they no doubt took with
them several copies of the following, which appeared in the local paper
of a town in Tennessee, and was headed "Thalberg and Vieuxtemps:"
"These distinguished individuals are now at Nashville, giving high
pressure concerts, and selling tickets at two dollars apiece, when
convenient. A stage-load and a half or two stage-loads of ladies
and gentlemen went down from this place to hear them. Thalberg is
said to be death, in its most horried shape, on the piano, and it
is probably true; while Vieuxtemps is represented as a fiddler of
considerable skill, considering his opportunities, which he no
doubt is. We haven't heard either of them since they were quite
small, and unless they come out here and reduce the price of their
tickets to their value,--say about sixty-two and a half cents a
dozen,--it is possible that we sha'n't hear them any more. When we
ride forty miles, at an expense of at least ten dollars, extras not
included, to hear a couple of itinerant Dutchmen torture a brace of
unoffending instruments into fits, until the very spirit of music
howls in sympathy, if some one will cave in our head with a
brickbat, we will feel greatly obliged.
"But seriously, Thalberg and Vieuxtemps have never done us any
harm that we know of, and we don't suppose they intend to. We
wouldn't much mind hearing their music, for no doubt it is nearly,
if not quite, as good as that of the average common run of
Dutchmen, which, as the latter will tell you, is saying a good
deal."
And yet musical culture was said to be in its infancy in America at that
time!
In Boston, Vieuxtemps, after an absence of fourteen years, was
criticised thus: "We cannot see in M. Vieuxtemps the spark of genius,
but he is a complete musician, and the master of his instrument. Tone so
rich, so pure, so admirably prolonged and nourished, so literally drawn
from the instrument, we have scarcely heard before; nor such vigour,
certainty, and precision, such nobility and truth in every motion and
effect. We recognise the weakness for sterile difficulties of extreme
harmonics."
Vieuxtemps was also subject to comparison with Sivori, rather to the
former's disparagement. "The one plays the violin like a great
musician, the other like a spoiled child of nature, who has endowed him
with the most precious gifts. Intrepid wrestlers, both, and masters of
their instrument, they each employ a different manner. M. Vieuxtemps
never lets you forget that he plays the violin, that the wonders of
mechanism which he accomplishes under your eye are of the greatest
difficulty and have cost him immense pains, whereas M. Sivori has the
air of being ignorant that he holds in his hands one of the most
complicated instruments that exists, and he sings to you like Malibran.
He sings, he weeps, he laughs on the violin like a very demon."
The following paragraph is a good sample of New York musical journalism
in the year 1844:
"Vieuxtemps's first concert on Monday night was a very stylish jam.
He is a small, puny-built man, with gold rings in his ears, and a
face of genteel ugliness, but touchingly lugubrious in its
expression. With his violin at his shoulder, he has the air of a
husband undergoing the nocturnal penance of walking the room with
'the child'--and performing it, too, with unaffected pity. He plays
with the purest and coldest perfection of art, and is doubtless
more learned on the violin than either of the rival performers [Ole
Bull and Artot], but there is a vitreous clearness and precision in
his notes that would make them more germane to the humour of before
breakfast than to the warm abandon of vespertide. His sister
travels with him (a pretty blonde, very unlike him), and
accompanies him on the piano."
Vieuxtemps also visited America in 1870, with the celebrated singer
Christine Nilsson.
Among the celebrated violinists of this period must be mentioned
Bernhard Molique, of whom Sir Charles Hallé says that he was a good
executant, knowing no difficulties, but his style was polished and cold,
and he never carried his public with him. "Ernst," he continues, "was
all passion and fire, regulated by reverence for and clear understanding
of the masterpieces he had to interpret. Sainton was extremely elegant
and finished in his phrasing, but vastly inferior to the others.
Vieuxtemps was an admirable violinist and a great musician, whose
compositions deserve a much higher rank than it is the fashion to accord
them."
Molique was the son of a town musician of Nuremberg, and became a
composer whose works have stood the test of time. He was a pupil of
Kreutzer and of Spohr, and held the position of director and first
violinist of the royal band at Stuttgart. He had a number of excellent
pupils, of whom John T. Carrodus was the best known. He died at
Stuttgart in 1869.
Henry Gamble Blagrove was a musical prodigy, who began the study of the
violin at the age of four, and appeared in public a year later. He was
born at Nottingham in 1811, and at six years of age played at Drury
Lane. He studied abroad with Spohr, and appeared in Vienna in 1836, but
the greater part of his life was spent in England, where he was soloist
in several of the best orchestras. He was a man of refreshing modesty,
and was held in high esteem. He died in London in 1872.
Jacob Dont, of Vienna, and Jean Dancla, a French violinist, both belong
to this period, and were teachers of reputation.