Dr. Ludwig Spohr's fame as a composer has far overshadowed his
reputation as a violin virtuoso, but the most capable musical critics
unite in the opinion that that rare quality, which we denominate genius,
was principally shown in his wonderful power as a player, and his works
written for the violin. Spohr was a man of immense self-assertion, and
believed in the greatness of his own musical genius as a composer in the
higher domain of his art. His "Autobiography," one of the most fresh,
racy, and interesting works of the kind ever written, is full of varied
illustrations of what Chorley stigmatizes his "bovine self-conceit." His
fecund production of symphony, oratorio, and opera, as well as of the
more elaborate forms of chamber music, for a period of forty years or
more, proves how deep was his conviction of his own powers. Indeed, he
half confesses himself that he is only willing to be rated a little
less than Beethoven. Spohr was singularly meager, for the most part, in
musical ideas and freshness of melody, but he was a profound master of
the orchestra; and in that variety and richness of resources which
give to tone-creations the splendor of color, which is one of the great
charms of instrumental music, Spohr is inferior only to Wagner among
modern symphonists. Spohr's more pretentious works are a singular union
of meagerness of idea with the most polished richness of manner; but, in
imagination and thought, he is far the inferior of those whose knowledge
of treating the orchestra and contrapuntal skill could not compare with
his. There are more vigor and originality in one of Schubert's greater
symphonies than in all the multitudinous works of the same class ever
written by Spohr. In Spohr's compositions for the violin as a solo
instrument, however, he stands unrivaled, for here his true _genre_ as a
man of creative genius stamps itself unmistakably.
Before the coming of Spohr violin music had been illustrated by a
succession of virtuosos, French and Italian, who, though melodiously
charming, planned in their works and execution to exhibit the effects
and graces of the players themselves instead of the instrument. Paganini
carried this tendency to its most remarkable and fascinating extreme,
but Spohr founded a new style of violin playing, on which the greatest
modern performers who have grown up since his prime have assiduously
modeled themselves. Mozart had written solid and simple concertos in
which the performer was expected to embroider and finish the composer's
sketch. This required genius and skill under instant command, instead
of merely phenomenal execution. Again, Beethoven's concertos were so
written as to make the solo player merely one of the orchestra, chaining
him in bonds only to set him free to deliver the cadenza. This species
of self-effacement does not consort with the purpose of solo playing,
which is display, though under that display there should be power,
mastery, and resource of thought, and not the trickery of the
accomplished juggler. Spohr in his violin music most felicitously
accomplished this, and he is simply incomparable in his compromise
between what is severe and classical, and what is suave and delightful,
or passionately exciting. In these works the musician finds nerve,
sparkle, _elan_, and brightness combined with technical charm and
richness of thought. Spohr's unconscious and spontaneous force in this
direction was the direct outcome of his remarkable power as a solo
player, or, more properly, gathered its life-like play and strength from
the latter fact. It may be said of Spohr that, as Mozart raised opera to
a higher standard, as Beethoven uplifted the ideal of the orchestra, as
Clementi laid a solid foundation for piano-playing, so Spohr's creative
force as a violinist and writer for the violin has established
the grandest school for this instrument, to which all the foremost
contemporary artists acknowledge their obligations.
Dr. Spohr's style as a player, while remarkable for its display of
technique and command of resource, always subordinated mere display to
the purpose of the music. The Italians called him "the first singer on
the violin," and his profound musical knowledge enabled him to produce
effects in a perfectly legitimate manner, where other players had
recourse to meretricious and dazzling exhibition of skill. His title to
recollection in the history of music will not be so much that of a great
general composer, but that of the greatest of composers for the violin,
and the one who taught violinists that height of excellence as an
excutant should go hand in hand with good taste and self-restraint, to
produce its most permanent effects and exert its most vital influence.