Handel and Gluck—Pathmakers
GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL—MASTER OF ORATORIO
(1685–1759)
In the last chapter we saw Bach rescue music from the danger of
emptiness and frivolity, by perfecting polyphonic music and dignifying
church music as it had not been since Palestrina.
Bach and Handel were alike in that they were both born in Germany when
music, especially opera, had become mechanical and full of set rules.
They were both Lutherans and Thuringians. They worked about the same
time, and tried to encourage the hearts and minds of their country, torn
by the Thirty Years’ War; both were polyphonic masters; both organists.
Bach attached himself to Frederick the Great, the protector of the
faith, and Handel went to England, where there was liberty of thought;
and both, died blind and of apoplexy.
The differences, with so many similarities, are most interesting. Bach,
modest, retiring, was always a German subject; Handel became an English
subject. Bach was a homebody with twenty children; Handel was a traveler
and never married. Bach wanted only to satisfy himself; Handel, to
satisfy the public. Bach was humble, Handel arrogant. Bach seldom fought
for his rights, while Handel would dismiss even his masters. Bach cared
little for applause, but Handel could not live without it. Bach was
devoted to the lyric, Handel to the epic. Handel is usually (not always)
heroic, Bach is usually religious (not always, of course). Handel is
popular, easy to understand; Bach is deep, coming from the soul, and it
takes more thought than the crowd is always willing to give to
appreciate this giant.
Handel achieved great worldly success, and treated nobles as equals.
Poor Bach worked contentedly in an humble position and struggled for
money and profited by “bad air.” (See page 248.)
Bach demanded faith and love of art, Handel demanded ready ears. Bach
never intended to make music, he only wanted to express his devotion in
the best medium he had; Handel wanted fame and riches and the approval
of the crowd. Handel died rich and Bach died poor.
George Frederick Handel (1685–1759) who wrote the immortal oratorio
_Messiah_, and one of the greatest opera composers of his time, was born
in Halle, Saxony. His father was a barber, but managed to get the title
“Chamberlain to the Prince of Saxe-Magdeburg.”
Handel’s father wished him to study law, but George Frederick did not
like the idea and besides he showed great musical gifts. One day when he
was a little boy, he found hidden in the attic, a clavichord upon which
he secretly played every chance he had.
Not long after this “find,” something most important happened. His
father was going to Weissenfels to the Duke’s castle and had no
intention of taking George Frederick with him. So, Father Handel seated
himself in the coach, taking things comfortably, when he spied little
George Frederick dashing along by the great wheels. He paid no attention
to him, but after going a mile and realizing that the little boy was
still following, he called out “What do you want?” “I want to go with
you,” answered Handel, and although his father was quite annoyed, George
Frederick’s will, as always, prevailed and he went with his father! At
the court the Duke saw, very quickly, how gifted the little Handel was.
His father relented and on his return to Halle, George Frederick was
given instruction on the organ, harpsichord and in composition with
Zachau, and taught himself the oboe and violin, greedily mastering all
the music he could find.
Although he studied music he seems to have respected his father’s wishes
and studied law and even after his father died in 1697, he continued,
but later gave it up for music. At seventeen he entered the University,
and studied, besides music, the literary classics which were of great
use to him later.
On leaving the University he went to Hamburg, the musical center of
Germany, where he heard Keiser’s works and received good advice from
Johann Mattheson, the composer, tenor and conductor, who later engaged
George Frederick in a duel.
The quarrel came about in this way: Handel was to lead Mattheson’s
opera, _Cleopatra_, in order to relieve Mattheson, who sang the part of
Antonio. After Antonio was “killed,” Mattheson being free to lead,
entered the orchestra pit to take Handel’s place as leader. Handel was
infuriated. They met later and fought a duel in which Handel was saved
by a large metal button which snapped Mattheson’s rapier! What a little
thing a button is and what it did for music!
Handel’s first four operas were written here for the Hamburg stage. But
_Almira_ (1705) is the only one ever heard now.
HANDEL IN ITALY
Next he visited Florence, Rome and Venice during which time he had the
happiest three years of his life. He composed a cantata, an oratorio and
other works; he learned much of melody and sweet flowing music, which
softened his dry, stiff use of German counterpoint, and he gathered
material for his later London work.
An amusing story is told of him in Venice. There was a carnival going on
and Handel went to it. At one of the costume balls, he sat down to a
harpsichord uninvited and began improvising, thinking that no one would
know him. A gorgeously garbed figure dashed through the crowd to his
side, and almost overcome by the music, gasped, “This is either the
Devil or the Saxon.” (Handel was called “The dear Saxon”—“_Il cáro
Sarsone_” in Italy.) It was Domenico Scarlatti’s first meeting with
Handel, and forever after they remained warm friends.
In Vienna he met Steffani (Chapel Master) who persuaded him to go to
Hanover and after a short time, the Elector, who became George I of
England, appointed him Chapel Master and gave him permission to go to
England for a visit before taking up his new work.
This visit was the turning point in Handel’s career, for later he became
an English subject and he—but we must not get ahead of our story!
HANDEL IN ENGLAND
Handel went to England about fifteen years after the death of Purcell,
“The Orpheus of England.” Handel was quick to see Purcell’s good points
and modelled his first English work to celebrate the Peace of Utrecht,
on Purcell’s _Te Deum_.
After arriving in London he wrote _Rinaldo_ with an Italian libretto in
fourteen days! He was the speed maniac of the 17th and 18th centuries.
His librettist said of him, “Mr. Handel barely allowed me time to
compose my verses.” Later he arranged _Rinaldo_ for harpsichord and all
England played it, especially the lovely aria _Lascia ch’io Piango_ (Let
Me Weep).
Yet Handel doesn’t seem to have made money out of _Rinaldo_, which
brought the publisher, Walsh, $10,000, about which Handel said, “My dear
fellow, the next time you shall compose the opera and I will publish
it.” (_History of Music_, by Paul Landormy.)
Later, he became the guest of the Duke of Chandos, at whose house he
wrote at least sixteen compositions.
King George had been very angry with Handel for leaving Hanover and
remaining in England, but forgave him later, and Handel was made
Director of the Royal Academy of Music which the King founded in 1719.
Among Handel’s duties were the getting of the artists for the operas.
This meant much to him and allowed him to travel all over Europe. He
composed operas almost as people wrote their letters, for in eight years
he produced eleven successful operas! Think of that for work!
HANDEL AND HIS RIVALS
But—he had a rival, Battista Buononcini, protégé of the mighty Duke of
Marlborough, and a musical war raged in London. John Byrom, a humorist
of the day wrote:
Some say, as compared to Buononcini
That Mynheer Handel’s but a ninny
Others aver that he to Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold a candle.
Strange all this difference should be
’Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee.
Handel won, however, and Buononcini left England. In 1729, another opera
venture was started, an Italian opera society, of which Handel was made
the Director. Off he went to Dresden and brought back Senesino, a tenor,
and other famous singers. But Handel did not get along well with his
singers and subordinates. He was too high-handed and because of his
quarrels the opera was given up! On one occasion he dragged the singer,
Cuzzoni, to the window and threatened to throw her out if she did not
sing the way he wished. Various other reasons were given too,—one, the
dispute between Cuzzoni, who was called the “Golden Lyre” and another
soprano, Faustina, the wife of Hasse, a rival conductor. Colley Cibber,
a critic of the time said: “These costly canary birds contaminate the
whole music loving public with their virulent bickerings. Cæsar and
Pompey did not excite the Romans to more violent partisanship than these
contentious women.”
And now we see Handel bankrupt and superseded in another theatre by his
two rivals, Porpora and then Hasse (1699–1783) of Hamburg. However, they
too were unsuccessful.
On went Handel, writing operas and oratorios and conducting at special
functions. His health snapped, but his will was so powerful that this
forceful man recovered, and presented two more operas, which were not
successful. In spite of all his failures and lack of tact, he had
faithful friends who arranged a successful benefit concert in 1738 for
him. At about the same time a statue was erected in Vauxhall Gardens, an
honor never before paid to a living composer!
He composed, while writing for the stage all these years, twelve sonatas
for violin or flute with figured bass, thirteen sonatas for two violins,
oboes or flutes and bass, six _concerti grossi_, twenty organ concertos
and twelve concertos for strings, many suites, fantasies and fugues for
harpsichord and organ. It is difficult to understand how one brain could
do all this!
HANDEL FORSAKES OPERA
After his ill success with the Italian Opera House, he gave up writing
operas and devoted himself to oratorios. In thirteen years (1739–1752)
he wrote nineteen. Among these are _Saul_ in which is the famous “Dead
March,” _Joseph_, and many other important ones, but towering over all
_The Messiah_, and _Heracles_, which Romain Roland says is “one of the
artistic summits of the 18th century.”
They are not all oratorios, for _Heracles_ and several others are not
religious in subject, but are dramatic epics.
Handel’s sight failed him, but even this did not stop his torrential
activity to his death in 1759.
He had become an English subject, so was buried with pomp at Westminster
Abbey.
He was loved even though he was fiery of temper, and had a will that no
one could conquer.
His music is full of his gusts of feeling but always correct and his art
perfect. In his work he always held himself under great control and it
mirrors his power and balance. He loved wind instruments and people
often considered his music noisy!
He wrote forty-two operas, two passions, ninety-four cantatas, ten
pasticcios, serenatas, songs and the instrumental works mentioned above.
The famous Handel _Largo_ comes from one of his operas, _Xerxes_, and
was an aria _Ombra mai fu_ (Never was there a Shadow).
Handel used counterpoint, but always knew when to unbend and use
delightful flowing melody, so he became popular.
Other men, Hasse, Telemann and Graun, contemporaries of Handel, followed
the popular Italian models but without Handel’s genius for melody and
sublimity, and were never heard of after their own generation had passed
away.
Handel’s _Messiah_, which he wrote in twenty-four days, was first given
in Dublin. It took the people by storm and when the king heard it,
thrilled by the “Hallelujah Chorus,” he rose to his feet, and since then
it is the custom to stand during that number. It has become the
Christmas Oratorio and is sung in churches and societies all over the
world. It has lost none of its first popularity among the people and is
loved as few works have ever been. It thrills because it is sincere,
big, and arouses religious feeling. Oratorio was his special gift to the
world and one never hears the name of Handel without thinking of _The
Messiah_.
Handel seemed to reunite the forms: oratorio and opera, under his
massive will. At first some of his oratorios were given in costume,
showing the influence of opera.
Handel had many enemies in England, but he also had friends. Although
imperious, he had a sweet side, and made friends with humble folk who
loved music, even though he hobnobbed with royalty. Thomas Britton, a
coal heaver, his friend, is sketched by an artist of the day in a
picture where Handel is playing _The Harmonious Blacksmith_ to Alexander
Pope, the Duchess of Queensbury, Colley Cibber and other famous folk.
Yet he stormed at everyone and even royalty “quaked in their boots” and
were forced to behave themselves at rehearsals and concerts which Handel
directed.
Accused of using someone’s melody, he answered, “That pig couldn’t use
such a melody as well as I could!” He helped himself to so many that he
was called the “Great Plagiarist.”
His latter life was spent quietly, with a few intimate friends, drinking
his beer and smoking his beloved pipe. He was always generous and as he
grew older seemed to become kindlier and softer. He contributed largely
to the Foundling Asylum and even played the organ there.
He wanted to die on Good Friday, “in hopes,” he said, “of meeting his
good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour on the day of his resurrection,”
and on Good Friday, April 6th, 1759, he died.
CHRISTOPH WILLIBALD GLUCK—FATHER OF MODERN OPERA
1714–1787
Now we come to the next genius, Christoph Gluck (1714–1787) born when
George Frederick Handel was twenty-nine years old. He also attacked the
frivolous drift of his time, but in another field from Handel and Bach,
and gave the fashionable, aimless Italian opera its death blow for all
time.
Gluck’s life is different from Handel, Bach, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven
as you will see later when you have read about all of these. For, until
he was almost forty years old, Gluck did nothing to make him great,
whereas these other men showed from their earliest years that they were
unusual.
Gluck belongs to two periods for his life bridges Bach’s and Haydn’s.
You will see how he first belonged to the frivolous fashion-loving
composers like Hasse, Jomelli and Piccinni, and how later he blossomed
into the great renewer and constructor of opera and escapes into a class
of his own! His is the most remarkable instance of a man who starts with
an ordinary talent, and later in life grasps a vision that never came to
him in his early youth and which was not caught by others in his day.
Furthermore he was able to carry his point and not merely see the vision
and let it go by. But first let us see how his life unfolded, for a
man’s life helps us to understand his works.
Christoph Willibald Gluck, born July 2nd, 1714, at Weidenwang, near
Nüremberg, was the son of a gamekeeper, who moved from estate to estate
in the service of princes and nobles, and at the time of Christoph’s
birth, was ranger to Eugene, Prince of Savoy. So, this little boy
destined to become the great Chevalier von Gluck, was a child of the
people even as was Haydn and others.
GLUCK STARTS TRAVELING
When he was three years old he was taken to Bohemia, (now
Czecho-Slovakia), for his father entered the service of Prince
Lobkowitz, a great music lover, of whom you will hear again. His parents
were quite poor, yet it is remarkable that above everything else they
gave Christoph a good education and at twelve he went to a Jesuit school
near Eisenberg, the home of Prince Lobkowitz.
Here he learned to sing and to play the organ, the violin, the ’cello
and the clavier. He was diligent and became most proficient and was
loved and admired by the school fathers. But little did they dream that
some day he was to write classic operas, based not on Christian stories
but the pagan dramas of the Greeks!
When nearly nineteen, he left the seminary and said good-bye to the
Church of St. Ignatius and went to Prague. To support himself and to
carry on his scientific and musical studies he gave lessons, played for
rustic festivals and earned money the best way he could, until Prince
Lobkowitz became interested in him and introduced him to the musical
circle at court. Here he met Count Melzi who took him to Milan, where he
was taught by Giovanni Battista Sammartini, a celebrated organist and
teacher of counterpoint. After four years of study he completed his
musical education.
In Milan, he wrote his first opera, _Artaserse_ which was performed in
1741. Metastasio, the popular librettist, wrote the words to
_Artaserse_, as he did for many of Gluck’s works written in the loose
style of the Italian opera. He was now twenty-eight and in the five
years spent here, he composed eight operas, through which he gained
great popularity. But not yet had it come to him to revolutionize opera;
he simply used the old pattern which was really nothing but groups of
songs, recitatives and choruses having very little connection except to
give the performers the chance to do musical feats to amaze the audience
with their skill. The story of these operas, meagre as it was, stopped
short, for some long and elaborate cadenza, and then it went on again
with no thought of the meaning of the drama but rather to tickle the
taste of the audience and the performer. The orchestra, too, was a
step-child, for no one cared where it came in as long as it was politely
subdued, keeping the singers on the key, and doing its best to be heard
only when bidden. So, Gluck followed these ideas in the beginning and
perhaps it was better that he did, otherwise he might never have
realized how far opera had strayed from the ideals of Monteverde.
Having eight operas to his credit, he began to get commissions from
other cities and countries, and next accepted an invitation, in 1745, to
go to London as composer of opera at the Haymarket Theatre. In 1746 he
wrote _La Caduta de Giganti_ (The Fall of the Giants), with no doubt a
libretto of Metastasio’s, then he gave his _Artamene_ and was assisted
in their production by Handel, who is supposed to have treated the works
with contempt. He is said to have exclaimed, “Even my shoe-black can
write better counterpoint than Gluck.” But we must remember that Gluck
had not yet become the _great_ Gluck. His visit to England was fruitful,
for Gluck heard and digested the great oratorios of Handel, and realized
that the voice and orchestra might be handled the same way in opera. No
doubt his mission was beginning to dawn on him; it came, not as a great
revelation, but gradually.
HE MAKES SUCCESS OF FAILURE
Another thing that gave him a push forward and shows how great people
can make a success of failure: he was asked to write a _pasticcio_
(Italian word meaning a meat-pie), or a string of melodies, very
fashionable in his day. He strung together his best airs from his
Italian operas, and called it _Pyramus and Thisbe_, but it was a dismal
failure. “Ah, ha!” he must have thought, “why shouldn’t this musical
drivel fail, for it is naught but trash, and with nothing that is needed
to make a good literary drama.” So this was one of the experiences that
led him to reform opera, making the words fit the music and not stopping
a performance, so that a popular soloist could sing a meaningless trill
and then start again with the other part of the word,—the way that opera
was being written at that time.
After his London ups and downs he went to Paris and heard the operas of
Rameau. He realized now the value of musical declamation and recitative
to the meaning and action of opera if used with thought, and he was not
slow in taking suggestions.
Gluck was probably the most all round man of his day, for he knew
literature and science as did few musicians. He knew all the influential
people in the arts, sciences, and music in London, Hamburg, Dresden and
Vienna, and his home was a center of learned and delightful people. When
in Vienna but a short time, he was commissioned to write an opera and he
produced, with success, _La Semiramide_, after which he went to
Copenhagen. His next opera _Telemacco_ in which he began to work out his
new ideas was well received, in Rome and Naples.
In 1750 after many disappointments, he was married to a lady he had long
adored. They lived happily together, for Marriane Pergin not only
brought him money which was a great joy, but was always his devoted and
understanding help-mate. She was an accomplished woman, and a companion
that many might envy. But, sad to say, they had no children, so they
adopted a niece of Christoph’s, a lovely little girl with great musical
talent. The three lived lovingly together until the poor little child
sickened and died, making the Glucks most unhappy, for they adored her,
as is often the case, even more than if she had been their own child.
In 1751 Gluck journeyed to Naples. Didn’t he travel a lot in the days of
the stage coach and brigands! In the same year he became conductor to
Prince Frederick at Vienna and in 1754 was officially attached to the
opera, and Maria Theresa made him court chapel master.
Soon after, the Pope, pleased with what he had done in Rome, made him
Chevalier of the Golden Spur and from that time he always styled himself
Ritter (Chevalier) von Gluck.
In _Il re pastore_ (The Shepherd King), we see the dawning of Gluck’s
best period of writing (1756). The overture is better music than he had
written before, and from this time on, Gluck became the genius in the
opera world for which he is known. From 1756 to 1760 he lived apart from
the world studying and after this he began to broadcast his ideas in
writing and composing.
When the Archduke Joseph of Austria, afterwards the Emperor, married
Isabella of Bourbon, Gluck wrote _Tetede_ which was performed with great
pomp. After this he wrote the ballet _Don Giovanni_, or _The Libertine_,
particularly interesting, for it certainly gave Mozart an idea for his
own great work _Don Giovanni_.
Again our “wandering minstrel” moved, this time to Bologna where he
conducted a new opera which, strange to say, showed not a sign of his
new ideas!
“ORPHEUS AND EURIDICE” IS BORN
Soon he met Calzabigi, another librettist, with whom he wrote his first
epoch-making opera _Orpheus and Euridice_. Although in some parts it is
written like the older operas, he used many of his new ideas. The public
at first were bewildered but they liked it. The next opera written with
his new librettist was _Alceste_, so different was it, and so full of
his best thought that the public did not like it. The pleasure-loving
people went to be amused and heard music almost as serious as oratorio.
It was austere, and its climax was not satisfactory. Yet it and _Orpheus
and Euridice_ mark the birth of music drama which Mozart and Wagner
developed further.
In _Orpheus and Euridice_ the chorus was an important part of the drama
as it had been in the old Greek drama from which Gluck took many of his
stories; and was not something dragged in to fill up space. Instead,
too, of the over-embroidered arias they were simple and expressive, and
the characters were real living beings, instead of figures on which to
drape showy melodies. Naturally, the composers were jealous of him and
went so far as to say that the principal singer had written _Orpheus and
Euridice_.
Gluck said of his _Alceste_: “I seek to put music to its true purpose;
that is, to support the poem, and thus to strengthen the expression of
the feelings and the interest of the situation without interrupting the
action.... In short, I have striven to abolish all those bad habits
which sound reasoning and true taste have been struggling against now
for so long in vain.” He abolished the unnecessary cadenza, a fancy,
trilly part composed by the soloist himself and used just before the
close of a piece. You will see in a later chapter how Beethoven dealt
with it.
Happily Gluck and Calzabigi still continued working together and in 1770
he wrote _Paride and Elena_ (Paris and Helen) which proved Gluck to be a
writer of beautiful romantic song.
By now Vienna and Paris were enthusiastic about him, yet he was severely
criticized because he dared to write and compose differently from
everyone else. The adventurer into new paths must always expect trouble
from those who have not caught up with him.
TROUBLE BREWS FOR GLUCK
Now our traveler goes to Paris where he presents _Iphigenia in Aulis_.
The story was taken from a play of the French dramatist Racine. Although
this was the fourth work in Gluck’s new style it was not as good as the
others. His enemies did their utmost to hurt him as they resented his
coming into Paris to reform French opera. And as the musicians and
singers were not good artists, it was almost impossible to give it well,
and probably it would never have reached the stage had it not been for
Marie Antoinette the French Queen who was later guillotined. She had
been a real friend and pupil of Gluck, when a young princess in Vienna.
Nevertheless the opera pleased its audiences, and it paid well, and
Gluck was given a new court office in Vienna.
In 1776 the trouble that had been brewing with Gluck’s opponents came to
a climax. Piccinni was his great Italian rival and the city of Paris was
torn as to who was the better composer. All the literary men and the
court were divided into factions, one for and one against Gluck. Some
great men, including Jean Jacques Rousseau were Gluckists, while others
of importance were Piccinnists. Never had there been so great a
contention for musical glory or struggle against new ideas. It was a
most extraordinary thing, but it does show that there was great musical
interest or people would never have wasted so much time in argument and
in writing for or against these men. Finally it came to a head, and it
was decided to give them both the same libretto of _Iphigenia in Tauris_
to see who could write the better opera. Gluck completed his within the
year and after nearly three years, Piccinni finished his. They were both
performed and needless to say Gluck won the award and even Piccinni said
himself that Gluck’s was the better. It is nice to know that after
Gluck’s death, Piccinni tried to collect funds to raise a memorial as a
tribute to him! So artistic rivalry need not dim admiration.
In _Iphigenia in Tauris_ again the master rises to great heights. His
overture was splendid, his orchestral color was superb. He pictured the
different characteristics of the various groups of people and of the
individuals themselves in word and music as it never had been done
before.
He wrote _Armide_ in 1777. It did not succeed although it was very
lovely and dreamy and in it, he suggested the sounds of babbling brooks
and the song of the nightingales.
Gluck wrote thirty operas, seven of which are in his new style: _Don
Giovanni_, _Orpheus and Euridice_, _Paris and Helen_, _Alceste_,
_Iphigenia in Tauris_, _Iphigenia in Aulis_ and _Armide_.
NEW PATHS
And thus this great path-breaker advanced _opera seria_ (grand opera).
The old _sinfonia_ in three movements which opened the opera,
disappeared, and instead came the introduction or overture, suggesting
the opera itself. He taught and wrote that composers could do anything
to assist the action of the opera; he elevated the story to an important
place; the characters in the plot were thought of as people and not as
puppets, and they were studied individually and not as machinery only.
The situations in the story governed the kind of music he used and he
tried hard to make the orchestra a main part of the opera. It seems odd
that nobody had thought of this before. Yet you have seen how much time
had been given to the voice throughout the ages, and how long it had
taken instruments to arrive at their full importance. So we see Gluck
improving as he worked with a better librettist. From now the opera
writer had to use thought in composition, as he would in writing a play.
A VERY CROSS CONDUCTOR!
But Gluck had trouble with the singers on account of his innovations. He
was the crossest conductor of his time, would allow no one to dictate to
him, and scolded the singers as they had never been scolded before.
He must have looked droll conducting, for he used to take off his wig
during rehearsals, and wrap a cloth about his head to keep the draughts
from fanning him! He would rage if the singers tried to do what they had
been permitted to do in other operas! Some singers demanded extra pay
when Gluck conducted. Sometimes he would repeat a passage twenty or
thirty times and no _pianissimo_ was soft enough and no _fortissimo_
loud enough! Someone said of him while he was conducting, “He lives and
dies with his heroines, he rages with Achilles, weeps with Iphigenia and
in the dying scene of _Alceste_ throws himself back in his chair and
becomes as a corpse.”
Otherwise he was always the kind soul who attracted everybody from Marie
Antoinette down. She used to receive him in her boudoir so that they
could enjoy conversation without court formalities.
One day two prima donnas refused to obey him when rehearsing
_Iphigenia_, and he said: “Mesdemoiselles, I have been summoned here to
Paris especially to produce _Iphigenia_. If you sing, well and good, but
if not, that is your business; only I shall then seek an audience with
the Queen, and inform her that the opera cannot be performed, and I
shall put myself into my carriage and straightway leave for Vienna.” You
may know that the ladies did their best!
In closing let us tell you what Berlioz, a master of orchestration, said
of Gluck’s orchestration in _Alceste_: “Of its kind I know nothing more
dramatic, nothing more terror-inspiring.” And this was said of a man who
had only the simplest orchestra with which to work. After much fighting,
he was the first to introduce into the orchestra the kettle-drums and
cymbals, which moderns have used with grandeur.
Gluck lived to see his own success, but the Piccinni strife and the
jealousies may have weakened his constitution, for he died rather
suddenly in 1787, a few weeks after the first performance of Mozart’s
_Don Giovanni_.
There are many memorials in Europe to Gluck, not the least being his
bust which stands beside Lully and Rameau in the Grand Opera of Paris.
PUBLIC CONCERTS
It is very hard to realize that time was when there were no public
concerts. Music was confined for so many centuries to the churches, to
the public squares, to the King’s Chamber, or to the ball rooms of
wealthy nobles, that it had not become the democratic art that it is
now. Of course the first opera houses in Italy had been steps in the
direction of bringing music to the people. The concerts begun by the
Danish organist, Buxtehude, in Lübeck about 1673, and the
_Tonkünstler-societät_ in Vienna of the same period were the first
public concerts. In England, John Banister started concerts at about the
same time, which were the first to admit an audience by payment of a
fee. Handel’s friend, Thomas Britton, the coal-heaver, gave concerts at
his home for 10 shillings the series!
The 18th century saw a great development in giving public concerts. In
France, the _Concerts Spirituels_ were begun in 1725. The object of
these were to give music to the people on the days of religious
festivals when the opera house was closed. There were about 24 concerts
a year; the political events of 1791 put an end to the society but it
had already given the people a taste for concerts, and many new
societies grew out of it. The festivals of Three Choirs in West England
(see page 190) were founded in 1724, and the Academy of Ancient Music in
1710. The _Musikverein_ in Leipsic was founded in 1743 and was later
turned into the famous _Gewandhaus_ concerts in 1781.
This movement for public concerts went hand in hand with the development
of instruments and the perfecting of performers. In fact the word
concert came from “_consort_—the union or _symphony_ of various
instruments playing in concert to one tune.”
THE MANNHEIM SCHOOL
The symphony came to life in Germany. Paul Landormy in his _History of
Music_ tells us that it was the time of the “poor scholars” who were
educated free from expense in the schools with the understanding that
they were to learn the “musician’s trade” and take part in the concerts
organized by the cities and the courts. Thus symphony orchestras grew up
all over Germany,—Munich, Stuttgart, Dresden, Darmstadt, Hamburg where
Telemann conducted, in Leipsic, Berlin and Mannheim.
In Mannheim appeared the most important group of composers, known as the
_Mannheim School_, and many wrote the early symphonies which led from
the works of Bach to those of Haydn and Mozart. The best known of these
composers are: Johann Stamitz (1717–1757), Franz Xavier Richter
(1709–1789), Anton Filtz, Christian Cannabich, Ignaz Holzbauer, Ernst
Eichner and Giovanni Battista Toeschi. Under the direct influence of the
Mannheim School were: François Joseph Gossec (1734–1829), a Belgian
living in Paris who wrote many symphonies; Luigi Boccherini (1743–1805)
known as one of the first writers of chamber music in the form used by
the classic writers; Giovanni Battista Sammartini (1701–1775) of Milan;
the sons of Bach, Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf, and Joseph and Michael
Haydn.
[Illustration:
_From the painting by J. B. Greuze, in the Louvre, Paris._
_Chevalier Christoph Willibald von Gluck._
_Father of Modern Opera._
]
[Illustration:
_From a statue by Barrias, in the Luxembourg Gallery, Paris._
_The Boy Mozart._
]