JOACHIM.
Joseph Joachim is one of the musical giants of the nineteenth century.
He will be remembered as one whose life has been interwoven with the
lives of the greatest musicians of his day, as one of the greatest
educators in his line who ever lived, and as the embodiment of the
purest and highest ideas in public performance.
[Illustration: JOSEPH JOACHIM]
Joachim is called the greatest violinist of modern times, and no better
words can be found to describe his characteristics than those of
Wasielewski, who says: "Joachim's incomparable violin playing is the
true _chef-d'oeuvre_, the ideal of a perfect violinist (so far as we
present-day critics can judge). Less cannot, dare not, be said, but,
at the same time, more cannot be said of him or of any one, and it is
enough. But that which raises him above all other contemporary
violinists and musicians generally is the line he takes in his
professional life. He is no virtuoso in the ordinary sense, for he is
far more,--before all he will be a musician. And that he unquestionably
is,--a magnificent example to young people, who are to some extent
possessed of the demon of vanity, of what they should do and what they
should leave undone. Joachim makes music, and his preëminent
capabilities are directed toward the serving one true, genuine art, and
he is right."
Joachim was born on June 28, 1831, in the village of Kittsee, in
Hungary, within the small radius which has produced three other great
musicians,--Haydn, Hummel, and Liszt. He began to study the violin when
he was five years old, and was placed under Servaczinski, leader of the
opera orchestra at Pesth. In two years he made his first public
appearance at a concert at Pesth, when he played a duet concerto for two
violins and orchestra with his master, and a solo on a theme by
Schubert, with variations. He was now (1841) sent to Vienna, where he
entered the conservatoire and studied under Böhm for two years. At the
end of this time he went to Leipzig, where he met with Mendelssohn and
played in a concert of Madame Viardot's. A few months later he appeared
as a finished artist in a Gewandhaus concert, and played Ernst's "Otello
Fantasie." Leipzig was then, under Mendelssohn's guidance, in the zenith
of its fame, and for a boy of twelve to appear in a Gewandhaus concert
and earn, not only the applause of the audience, but also the praise of
the critics, was something very unusual. But a still greater honour was
in store for him,--the following year he took part, in a Gewandhaus
concert, in a concertante for four violins by Maurer, the other
performers being Ernst, Bazzini, and David, all violinists of renown and
very much his seniors.
Joachim remained in Leipzig until 1850, studying with Ferdinand David,
while Hauptmann gave him instruction in composition, though during this
time he occasionally travelled in Germany and elsewhere to play in
concerts. Thus in 1844 Mendelssohn brought him to England, where he
played in public for the first time at a benefit concert of Mr. Bunn's
at Drury Lane, in March, 1844, and in May of the same year he appeared
at the fifth Philharmonic concert and played Beethoven's concerto with
very great success. In this year two other violinists of note made their
first appearance at the Philharmonic concerts,--Ernst and Sainton, also
Piatti, the great violoncellist. Joachim visited England again in 1847,
and since that time so frequently that he became one of the regular
features of musical life in that country, where he has been so highly
honoured.
Joachim's first appearance in Paris was made in 1849, when he spent two
months in that city, and began his successes by playing in an orchestral
concert given by Hector Berlioz. About this time Franz Liszt, who had
heard of Joachim's rapidly increasing reputation, invited him to go to
Weimar and lead the orchestra which he conducted. Joachim accepted the
invitation and remained in Weimar two years. He could never be brought
to see the beauty of the new school of music, and while he recognised
the extraordinary gifts, and admired the personality and brilliant
qualities of Liszt, he could not be prevailed upon to remain in Weimar
longer than two years.
In 1854 he accepted the post of conductor and solo violinist to the King
of Hanover, a position which he retained for twelve years, during which
time he enhanced his reputation as a musician, and married Amalia
Weiss, a celebrated contralto singer. In 1866 the troubles which
enveloped Germany brought Joachim's engagement in Hanover to an end, but
two years later he entered upon what has proved to be the most important
part of his career, when he was appointed professor of violin at the
Hochschule for music in Berlin. This school was a new branch of the
already existing Academy of Arts, and was to be a high school for
musical execution, as apart from composition.
Joachim threw his whole heart into the new work before him, and the
branch of the school under his direction soon rivalled any similar
school. Various branches were added to the school,--in 1871 a class for
organ, in 1872 classes for brass instruments, double-bass, and solo
vocalists, in 1873 a chorus class. In 1875 the Royal Academy of Arts was
reorganised and became the Royal High School for Music, with Joachim as
director. That Joachim had earned a very high position as early as 1859
is shown by an extract from the _Musical World_ of London, in that year.
"So long as virtuosi walked (or galloped) in their proper sphere, they
amused by their mechanical _tours de force_, charmed by their _finesse_
and did no great harm to musical taste. They were accepted _cum grano
salis_, applauded for their dexterity, and admired for the elegance with
which they were able to elaborate thoughts in themselves of every slight
artistic worth. But recently our 'virtuosi' have been oppressed with a
notion that, to succeed in this country, they must invade and carry by
storm the 'classics' of the art, instead of adhering exclusively as of
old to their own fantasies and _jeux de marteaux_. One composition after
another by the great masters is seized upon and worried. If they were
things of flesh and blood, and could feel the gripe, be conscious of the
teeth, and appreciate the fangs of these rapid-devouring 'virtuosi,'
concertos, sonatas, trios, etc., would indeed be in a pitiable
condition. Happily, being of the spirit, they bleed not, but are
immortal.
"One great result attending Herr Joachim's professional visit to London
is, that it enables both professors and amateurs opportunity after
opportunity of studying _his_ manner of playing the works of the giants
of music. _How_ Herr Joachim executes these compositions--how
differently from the self-styled 'virtuosi,' how purely, how modestly,
how wholly forgetful of himself in the text he considers it an honour
being allowed to interpret to the crowd--we need scarcely remind our
readers. Not a single eccentricity of carriage or demeanour, not a
moment of egotistical display, to remind his hearers that, although
Beethoven is being played, it is Joachim who is playing, ever escapes
this truly admirable and (if words might be allowed to bear their
legitimate signification) most accomplished of 'virtuosi.'"
As an example of Joachim's conscientiousness, the following little
anecdote will serve to give an idea. Joachim once introduced into the
_point d'orgue_ of Beethoven's concerto a cadence terminated by a _trait
en octave_, which caused an extraordinary effect. People spoke only of
this cadence; it was the event of the evening wherever he played. This
success wounded his feelings of artistic probity; he considered it
unbecoming that people should be more taken up with the skill of the
executant than with the beauties of the music, and the cadence was
suppressed.
During the many years of his connection with the Hochschule, Joachim's
personal influence has been exerted upon a large number of pupils, in
fact almost every well-known violin player has been to Berlin to seek
his advice and instruction, and the players he has perfected are almost
without number. Many anecdotes are told concerning his kindness to his
pupils, but so greatly is he sought after that comparatively few of the
hundreds who flock to Berlin are able to reach him.
Joachim's early training and education developed his character both as a
musician and as a man. The influence of Mendelssohn, whose friendship
ended only with his death, of David, Schumann, Liszt, Berlioz, and
Brahms, who was largely indebted to Joachim for the introduction of many
of his works to the public, brought out the thorough uprightness,
firmness of character and earnestness of purpose, and that intense
dislike of all that is artificial or untrue in art, which have made him
a great moral power in the musical world.
He combines in a unique degree the highest executive powers with the
most excellent musicianship. Unsurpassed as a master of the instrument,
he uses his powers of execution in the services of art, and represents
the perfection of a pure style and legitimate school, with breadth and
fidelity of interpretation. His performances undoubtedly derive their
charm and merit from the strength of his talent and of his artistic
character, and are stamped with a striking originality of conception; at
the same time fidelity to the text, and careful endeavour to enter into
the spirit and feeling of the composer, are the principles of executive
art which Joachim has invariably practised.
In the rendering of Bach's solos, Beethoven's concertos and quartets, he
has no rival, and for the revival of many great works the musical world
is indebted to him. Of these, one instance may be cited, viz., the
violin concerto (Op. 61) of Beethoven, which was first played by
Clement, December 23, 1806. This concerto bears evidence of having been
written in a hurry. Clement played it at sight without rehearsal, and,
as a consequence of its being brought forward in such a slipshod manner,
it was very seldom heard until its revival by Joachim. The MS. shows
that the solo part was the object of much thought and alteration by the
composer, but evidently after the first performance.
As a composer, Joachim has contributed work of value to the literature
of the violin. His "Hungarian Concerto" is a creation of real grandeur,
built up in noble symphonic proportions. Most of his works are of a
grave, somewhat melancholy character, and all of them are marked by
earnestness of purpose and a high ideal.
The jubilee of Joachim's life as a violin player was celebrated in
Berlin with great ceremony and with unusual honour, and in England a
demonstration was made in his honour by the public, who subscribed a
sum of about $6,000, with which was purchased an instrument of
wonderful beauty, a celebrated "Red Strad," which was presented to him
at a public meeting held at the conclusion of the Monday Popular
Concerts, in 1888.
This celebration was, however, quite eclipsed by that of the sixtieth
anniversary of his first public appearance, which was held at Berlin on
April 22, 1899. A grand concert was given at the Philharmonie, with an
orchestra consisting of two hundred performers. There were ninety
violins, thirty violas, twenty-one 'celli, and twenty double-basses, and
of these all except the double-basses had been pupils of Joachim, the
violas and 'celli having been his pupils in chamber music. They had come
from all over Europe to take part in the festival. Nearly half of the
violins were concert-masters, and many of them famous soloists, as Carl
Halir, Henri Petri, Jeno Hubay, Willy Hess, Gustav Hollaender,
Gabrielle Wietrowitz, Marie Soldat, and others.
Joachim entered the hall at half-past six, and was greeted with a
deafening fanfare played by the combined trumpeters of the military
bands stationed in Berlin. The audience rose in a body and added its
cheers to the noise of the trumpets. A large armchair, beautifully
decorated with flowers and wreaths, was reserved as a seat of honour for
the great musician.
The seventh number on the programme was left vacant, but when it was
reached the orchestra began the introduction to Beethoven's concerto. No
soloist was in sight, but Gabrielle Wietrowitz and Marie Soldat, his
most celebrated women pupils, came slowly down toward Joachim's chair,
one carrying a violin and the other a bow, which they placed in his
hands. Joachim, however, did not wish to play, and did not yield except
under the force of persuasion, and then he said: "I have not had a
violin in my hands for three days; I am in no mood to play; moreover,
there are many in the orchestra who can play it better than I, but I
don't want to refuse." So Joachim played the great concerto, and
received an ovation such as had probably never been accorded to him
before. Then he conducted Bach's concerto in G major for strings, which
was played by sixty-six violins, fifty-seven violas, twenty-four 'celli,
and twenty double-basses, and this brought the concert to a close.
The concert was followed by a banquet at which there were eight hundred
guests, and the festivities lasted until four o'clock the next morning.
No violinist was ever more respected or beloved by his pupils, nor did
one ever wield a more powerful influence in the musical world. To be put
forward by Joachim gives one a high standing in the musical world to
begin with, but few indeed are those who receive this privilege in
comparison with those who desire it.
Joachim is not a builder of technique or a teacher of beginners. Pupils
who are accepted by him must be already proficient technicians, and it
may be stated that the teacher who can prepare pupils for Joachim stands
high in the profession. Joachim is a great adviser, a former of style,
and a master of interpretation, to whom pupils flock two or three years
too early, and feel aggrieved if they are not at once accepted.
"What else can you do?" he once asked of a young man who desired to
become a great violinist, and had sought Joachim's advice.
"I think I would like to study for the ministry," was the reply.
"It is much better to be a good minister than a poor violinist," said
Joachim, looking him full in the face.
His liberality is proverbial, and after a long and successful life,
during which he has received high salaries, he is not rich. He seldom
refuses to play gratis for any really worthy object, and the anecdotes
of his kindness toward his pupils are without number.
Few men have shone with such an even, steady lustre, through a long
life. Others have come up, flourished, and sunk into oblivion, but the
light of Joachim has shone steadily for more than sixty years, and as an
interpreter of the classics he has never been excelled, and perhaps
never will be.