The spirit of modern civilization is preëminently a critical one. A vast
amount of knowledge and talent is constantly put in its service and it
seems as though education had no higher purpose than to enable man to
become as early as possible a critic of everything offered for material
or spiritual use or enjoyment. In no field have these tendencies become
more conspicuous than in the most delicate and complicated art of music.
Our generation is brought up not so much for a life-long devotion, study
and true appreciation, as for a most premature forming and uttering of
opinions as to the merits, and particularly the shortcomings, of any
production. Most of our critics, too, work in this wrong direction,
instead of preaching that modesty and prudence and earnest devotion
which alone enables us to become familiar with new talent or works of a
higher order. Goethe accuses critics in general, that they have the
habit of ignoring really great things and of showing an unusual interest
in mediocrity. He ascribes to them a bad influence upon creative
artists, saying that these can only follow the path dictated by their
nature, while arrogant criticism, which assumes to prescribe to them how
to do or not to do a thing, may destroy them. He doubts whether in
modern England, with the criticising daily press, such an astounding
appearance as that of a Shakespeare would be possible, and, as an
expert, declares that great things can be accomplished only in a state
of absolutely undisturbed, innocent, almost somnambulistic creation,
attained by complete isolation. That such self-chosen isolation, resting
upon a strong personal and artistic character, yet combined with a
hearty interest in all human concerns and the most comprehensive general
culture, is possible, even in our modern time, and that it can be
crowned with most wonderful results, is splendidly shown by the career
of Johannes Brahms, whose greatness rests mainly on this unswerving
fidelity to his genius in spite of all adverse criticism during the
years of his development and attained mastership.
He was born in Hamburg, May 7th, 1833, being the eldest of three
children of Johann Brahms, a remarkable musician, who played double bass
at the theatre, and Christiane Nissen, a lady of an affectionate, noble
character. There was never a doubt as to his becoming a musician. Under
the instruction first of O. Cossel and, from his tenth year, of Eduard
Marxsen, a most thorough musician and excellent teacher in the sister
city Altona, the boy made rapid progress on the piano. Marxsen soon
began also to give him theoretical instruction and was at once attracted
by the rare keenness of the intellect of his pupil. Indeed, in his first
productions he recognized a spirit which convinced him of a profound
latent talent. He therefore spared no effort to awaken and guide this
talent that his pupil might become another priest of art to “preach in a
new way what is high, true and imperishable.”
As a lad of fourteen Brahms played for the first time in public, pieces
of his favorite masters, Bach and Beethoven, and original variations on
a folk-song, thus showing an early liking not only for popular melodies,
but for a musical form which he has cultivated more assiduously and for
higher purposes than any other modern composer. Indeed this combination
of popular elements with most artistic and complicated forms has perhaps
remained the most characteristic feature of Brahms’ music.
After giving a few other concerts, Marxsen kept him for several years
from appearing in public, until in 1853 he could send him as a master of
his instrument upon his first journey with the Hungarian violin virtuoso
Remenyi. In Hanover, where he played much before the king, he met
Joachim, who became his life-long friend, and Joachim was especially
impressed when Brahms, in one of these concerts with Remenyi, transposed
on account of the low pitch of the piano, without any preparation and
even without notes, a Beethoven violin sonata, raising it a semitone.
Marxsen was not surprised; for years Brahms had been accustomed to
transpose great pieces at sight into any key, and so astonishing was his
memory, that he never carried notes with him upon a concert trip. The
compositions of Beethoven and Bach and a long list of modern concert
pieces were safely committed to memory by him. Brahms remained several
weeks in Weimar as the guest of Liszt, who delighted in playing the
young composer’s manuscripts. Then he parted from Remenyi and went with
Joachim’s recommendation to Robert Schumann in Düsseldorf. The
impression which his personality, playing, and works made upon the
latter was profound. Nothing in his later career, rich in honors and
triumphs, can be dearer to his memory than the enthusiastic greeting
with which Schumann introduced him to the musical world.
Without some citation from an oft-reprinted article in the “Neue
Zeitschrift für Musik” no sketch of Brahms’ life is complete. Schumann
greets him as the one whom he had expected to appear to utter the
highest ideal expression of his times, claiming the mastership not by a
gradual development, but appearing suddenly before us fully equipped as
Minerva sprang from the brain of Jupiter. “And he has come, a youth at
whose cradle graces and heroes kept watch.” “Sitting at the piano he
began to unveil wonderful regions. We were drawn into more and more
magical circles by his playing, full of genius, which made of the piano
an orchestra of lamenting and jubilant voices. There were sonatas, or
rather veiled symphonies; songs, whose poetry might be understood
without words; piano pieces both of a demoniac nature and of the most
graceful form; sonatas for violin and piano—string quartets—each so
different from every other, that they seemed to flow from many different
springs.” “Whenever he bends his magic wand, there, when the powers of
orchestra and chorus lend him their aid, further glimpses of the ideal
world will be revealed to us. May the highest genius strengthen him;
meanwhile the spirit of modesty dwells within him. His comrades greet
him at his first step into the world of art, where wounds may perhaps
await him, but bay and laurel also; we welcome him as a valiant
warrior.”
This cordial introduction created quite a sensation, yet it was by no
means a guaranty of an enthusiastic reception of the young composer’s
works. For, far from being an imitator of Schumann’s style, he appeared
at once in his own strong personality and as a stranger, who even in
Leipsic was not understood. Yet he found publishers for three pianoforte
sonatas, a scherzo, a trio and several songs. For years the interest in
him was confined to a small circle. He stayed for a while in Hanover,
making from there several concert tours with Joachim or Stockhausen, the
great singer, another devoted friend, visiting also Schumann in his
retreat in the Endenich hospital. In his variations on a theme from
Schumann’s Op. 99, he gave a touching expression to his sympathy with
the master’s sufferings. After the publication of these and the ballads
Op. 10, Brahms devoted several years to profound study. Schumann’s
praise had not spoiled him, nor was he discouraged by the lack of
success. For a few seasons he was the director of the orchestra and
chorus in Detmold, spending also some time in Hamburg and in travelling.
Meanwhile he finished many songs and choruses, two serenades for
orchestra, and two sextets. In Jan., 1859, he played in Leipsic his
first great pianoforte concerto; most of the criticisms thereon were,
however, such as to now excite our mirth. It was in Switzerland and
Vienna that his genius found a sincere recognition. About thirty years
ago the writer first saw Brahms in his Swiss home; at that time he was
of a rather delicate slim-looking figure, with a beardless face of ideal
expression. Since then he has changed in appearance, until now he looks
the very image of health, being stout and muscular, the noble, manly
face surrounded by a full gray beard. The writer well remembers singing
under his direction, watching him conduct orchestra rehearsals, hearing
him play alone or with orchestra, listening to an after-dinner speech or
private conversation, observing him when attentively listening to other
works, and seeing the modest smile with which he accepted, or rather
declined, expressions of admiration.
The Alpine summits and glaciers had great attractions for Brahms, but
also the welcome which he was always sure to find in Basel and Zürich.
For his permanent home he selected Vienna, in 1862, where he was
surrounded by the spirits of the classic masters. He was received most
favorably. His interpretation of Bach, Beethoven, Schubert and Schumann
was particularly praised. He was appointed chorus master of the
Sing-Academie for a season, and prepared a memorable performance of
Bach’s Passion Music. Yet his genius would not allow him to devote much
time to such services, and once only in later years he accepted a
similar appointment, directing from 1872–1875 the concerts of the
“Society of the Friends of Music.” Aside from this all his time was
devoted to composing, interrupted only by frequent journeys to
performances of his works, and by giving valuable assistance in the
revision of the works of Couperin, Mozart and Chopin. During the first
years of his residence in Vienna he finished many important chamber
works, variations, waltzes and Hungarian dances for the pianoforte, and
vocal compositions of every kind. The first great success was won by the
“German Requiem,” begun after the death of his mother in 1866, and
completed, for the greater part, in Switzerland, in the two following
years. After the first famous performance in the Bremen Cathedral in the
spring of 1868, it was soon heard in other cities and was greatly
admired, although certain features were severely criticised. Other works
of high importance followed: the “Song of Destiny,” “Rinaldo,” the
“Rhapsody,” Op. 53, the “Song of Triumph” for the celebration of the
happy ending of the Franco-German war, besides many songs, chamber
works, and the charming Love-Song Waltzes. By all these works Brahms
rose gradually higher and higher in the general estimation both at home
and abroad. But he steadfastly avoided the one field in the reform of
which all musical interest seemed to centre,—the opera. Perhaps the time
will come when we may be fully informed as to his relation to dramatic
music and the reasons which kept him away from the stage. Much might be
guessed. But it is needless to pay attention to mere rumors and
suppositions. There were other fields in which he was called upon to
achieve great things. Nothing shows better the greatness of Brahms’
artistic character than the fact that, in spite of Schumann’s prophecy
and many early instrumental masterpieces, he waited with his first
symphony until he was a man of over forty years. Four great symphonies
have appeared between 1876 and 1885, preceded by orchestral variations
on a theme of Haydn; also, during the same time, two overtures, a second
pianoforte concerto, one for violin, two smaller choruses with
orchestra, chamber works, piano pieces and songs. Another great choral
composition, “Deutsche Fest-und Gedenksprüche,” a double concerto for
violin and violoncello, Gipsy songs and many other vocal and chamber
works complete the list of his more recent compositions. And more great
things may be expected from him. If there is anything inspiring in the
present aspect of musical art, it is the fact that Johannes Brahms is
still among us, physically and mentally as strong as if perpetual youth
were granted to him. Indeed, the graces and heroes have not only kept
watch at his cradle, but guided him throughout his long career.
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