In 1793 Paganini made his _debut_ in the great Theatre of Genoa (the
Carlo Felice?). He was in his eleventh year, and his reputation must
have been considerable, for the occasion was of some importance, being
the benefit concert of two singers of repute, Luigi Marchesi and Teresa
Bertinotti.[2] Marchesi was second only to Pacchierotti among the male
_soprani_ of the time, and sang at the King's Theatre, London, during
the season of 1788; in the "Musical Reminiscences" of the Earl of Mount
Edgcumbe he is highly praised as the most brilliant singer of his day.
It was a great compliment to the talent of the young Nicolo that these
singers should apply for his assistance. Moreover, they promised to sing
for him when he should give a concert. Both functions duly took place,
and the boy-artist at each played a set of variations of his own
composition on "La Carmagnole"; an air then greatly in vogue. That old
melody "Malbrough s'en-va-t-en guerre," pressed into the service of the
French Revolution, was appropriately associated with the young artist,
himself a revolutionist. His success was phenomenal, performers and
audience being thrown into transports of admiration.
It would appear that young Paganini studied with Giacomo Costa for a
period of six months only. He must then have continued to work by
himself, for it was not until about 1795 that his father took him to
Parma, to place him under the "Pride of Italy," Alessandro Rolla, to
whom the boy had been recommended by Costa. There was an affecting
farewell between Nicolo and his mother, for they were tenderly attached
to each other. Paganini has himself related the story of his interview
with Rolla, which, for the sake of completeness, must be summarised
here.
When Nicolo with his father arrived at Rolla's house, the famous
violinist was ill in bed. His wife showed the visitors into an apartment
adjoining, and went to inform her husband of their arrival, but he was
disinclined to receive the strangers. On a table in the room where they
were waiting lay a violin, and a composition in manuscript--Rolla's
latest concerto. Paganini, prompted by his father, took up the violin,
and played the concerto through. Astonished at the performance, Rolla
asked what _virtuoso_ was in the next room, and on being told it was
only a boy he had heard, would not credit the statement without the
evidence of his own eyes. To the father's entreaty Rolla replied that he
could teach the boy nothing; it would waste his time to remain with
him. He must go to Ferdinando Paer, who would teach him composition.
There are several versions of this story, and much uncertainty
respecting some points. Rolla was chamber _virtuoso_, and director of
the concerts at the Court of Parma. Paer, whose first opera was produced
in 1789, was at this time in great request at Venice, where he brought
out a succession of operas. In 1796 he may have been in Parma, for his
"Griselda" was produced there that year. Paganini, at some time or
other, doubtless did profit by Paer's friendly assistance; but his real
teacher was Gasparo Ghiretti, chamber musician to Prince Ferdinand of
Parma, and the master of Paer. Ghiretti was a violinist, as were nearly
all the Italian composers of that period. Under Ghiretti, Paganini went
through a systematic course of study in counterpoint and composition,
devoting himself to the instrumental style. He must, about the same
time, have received violin lessons from Rolla, though he afterwards
refused to acknowledge that he had been his pupil. Fetis tells of
discussions between Rolla and Paganini concerning the innovations the
latter was attempting, for he was always striving after new effects. As
he could but imperfectly execute what he aimed at, these eccentric
flights did not commend themselves to Rolla, whose taste and style were
of a more severe order. Of Paganini's work in composition little appears
to be known. Anders states that Paer when in Parma devoted several hours
daily to Paganini; and at the end of the fourth month entrusted him with
a composition of a _duo_, in which Nicolo succeeded to the complete
satisfaction of his master. Paganini may also at that time have
sketched, if he did not complete, the Studies, or Caprices, Op. 1.
In 1797 the father took the boy from Parma, and set out with him on a
tour through Lombardy. Concerts were given in Milan, Bologna, Florence,
Pisa, and Leghorn.
The young artist achieved an extraordinary reputation; the father took
possession of the more material rewards of art. The "golden dreams" were
in process of realisation! Returning to Genoa, young Paganini finished
the composition of his Twenty-four Studies, which were of such excessive
difficulty that he could not play them. He would try a single passage
over in a hundred ways, working for ten or eleven hours at a stretch,
and then would come the inevitable collapse. He was still under the
stern domination of his father, and his spirit must have chafed under
the bondage. His own ardour was sufficient to carry his labours to the
verge of exhaustion, and he needed no spur as an incentive to exertion.
In all directions save that of music his education was utterly
neglected. The moral side of his nature was allowed to grow wild.
There was the restraining influence of a mother's love, but there was
little else. It might indeed be said that, musically, Paganini was
self-educated; but that one of the world's great geniuses should lack
the intellectual and moral training that go to make the complete man was
sad in the extreme. Paganini's was a nature warped; on the one side
phenomenal power, on the other bodily suffering, intellectual and
spiritual atrophy. But more of this when we turn from his career to the
man himself.
As the youth grew older the spirit of revolt arose. He must and would
escape from the tyranny of his avaricious father. But how? A way soon
offered itself. At Lucca, the festival of St. Martin, held each
November, was an event of such importance, musically, that it drew
visitors from all parts of Italy. As the November of 1798 drew near,
young Paganini besought his father's permission to attend the festival,
but his request was met by a point-blank refusal. The importunities of
the youth, aided by the prayers of the mother, at length prevailed, and
in care of the elder brother afterwards Dr. Paganini (?)--Nicolo was
allowed to leave home.
Free at last, the youth, now in his seventeenth year, went on his way,
his whole being thrilled with dreams of success and happiness. At Lucca
he was most enthusiastically received, and, elated by his good fortune,
Paganini extended his tour, playing in Pisa and other towns. Enabled now
to earn his own living, Paganini determined never to return to the home
where he had suffered so much. His father must have obtained information
as to the youth's whereabouts, for it has been stated that he managed to
obtain a large part of the young artist's earnings. The money was freely
yielded to a certain extent, and the residue was obtained by threats.
But no threat or entreaty could induce Nicolo to return to his paternal
home. The bird had escaped, and liberty was sweet. But young Paganini
was scarcely fitted for an independent, uncontrolled career. He had no
moral ballast, and much would depend upon what kind of company he kept.
One has to bear in mind that at the period now under
notice--1798--Europe was in a very unsettled state. The very pillars of
society were shaken, and there were many dangers in the path of the
young and inexperienced. But that is a very trite observation, for it
applies to all times and places. However, Paganini seems to have become
acquainted with what Fetis terms "artists of another kind," who
encouraged "play" of a more exciting, if less exalted order, than the
young musician had hitherto devoted himself to. With his ardent southern
temperament Paganini threw himself with the greatest zest into the
vortex of gambling, and frequently lost at a sitting the earnings of
several concerts and was reduced to the greatest embarrassment. Soon his
talent provided fresh resources, and his days ran on in alternations of
good and evil fortune. Tall, slight, delicate and handsome,[3] Paganini,
despite his frail constitution, was an object of attraction to the fair
sex. Incidents in his early manhood probably formed the foundation for
some of the stories told of him later. As Fetis puts it; the enthusiasm
for art, love and "play," reigned by turns in his soul. He ought to have
been careful of himself, but he went to excess in everything. Then came
a period of enforced repose, of absolute exhaustion, lasting sometimes
for weeks. This would be followed by a display of extraordinary
energy, when his marvellous talent took its highest flights, and he
plunged once more into the wildest bohemianism. Such a course of life
was enough to wreck the artist, and no friend seemed to be at hand to
save him from himself. Frequently he had to part with his violin in
order to raise money to pay his debts of honour, and it was upon one
such occasion that he met with the greatest good fortune he had yet
experienced, and acquired a violin which became the instrument of his
conversion from the fatal passion for gambling.
[Illustration: _Plate III.--See Appendix._
PAGANINI'S VIOLIN IN THE MUNICIPAL MUSEUM AT GENOA.]
Arriving at Leghorn, where he was to give a concert, Paganini yielded to
his weakness for the other kind of play and lost his money and his
violin. He was in a dilemma indeed, but was fortunate in meeting with an
enthusiastic musical amateur, M. Livron, a French merchant, the owner of
a superb Guarnerius violin. This instrument M. Livron lent to the young
artist, and attended the concert. When Paganini went to return the
violin to its owner, M. Livron at once exclaimed, "I shall take care
never to profane the strings your fingers have touched. It is to you now
that my violin belongs." A noble benefactor, that M. Livron. The
Guarnerius became Paganini's inseparable companion; he played upon it
throughout all his tours, and its subsequent history will be duly
related.
Paganini acquired another instrument on the same easy terms, but
attended by different circumstances. Signor Pasini, of Parma, a painter
of some distinction, and an amateur violinist, had heard of Paganini's
wonderful powers as a reader of music at sight, but refused to credit
the statements. Pasini one day placed before Paganini a manuscript
concerto, in which difficulties of all kinds were brought together, and
putting into the artist's hands a splendid Stradivari violin, said:
"This instrument is yours if you can play that at sight, like a master,
without studying its difficulties in advance." "If that is so," replied
Paganini, "You may bid farewell to it at once." His terrific[4]
execution made the music seem as if it played itself as his eye fell
upon it. Pasini was petrified with astonishment.
The abandonment of the vice of gambling came about in this way, his own
words being quoted. "I shall never forget," said he, "one day placing
myself in a position which was to decide my whole career. The Prince De
* * * * * had long desired to possess my excellent violin (the
Guarnerius), the only one I then had, and which I still possess. One day
he desired me to fix a price; but, unwilling to part from my instrument,
I declared I would not sell it for less than 250 gold Napoleons. A short
time after, the Prince remarked that I was probably indulging in banter
in asking so high a price, and added that he was disposed to give 2,000
francs for it. Precisely that very day I found myself in great want of
money, in consequence of a heavy loss at play, and I almost resolved to
yield my violin for the sum he had offered, when a friend came in to
invite me to a party that evening. My capital then consisted of thirty
francs, and I had already deprived myself of my jewels, watch, rings,
pins, etc. I instantly formed the resolve to risk this last resource,
and if fortune went against me, to sell the violin and to set out for
St. Petersburg, without instrument and without funds, with the object of
retrieving my position. Soon my thirty francs were reduced to three, and
I saw myself on the road to the great city, when fortune, changing in
the twinkling of an eye, gained me one hundred francs with the little
that yet remained. That moment saved my violin and set me up again. From
that day I withdrew from play, to which I had sacrificed a portion of my
youth: and convinced that a gambler is universally despised, I renounced
for ever that fatal passion."
It would be interesting to know when these things occurred, but dates
are wanting; it is sufficient to find the artist triumphant in one great
crisis in his life. Gambling, to which, however, he was not a party, was
destined to trouble the last years of his life, as will be seen further
on.
Paganini's career, gambling apart, was by no means of a conventional
character. His irregular habits, fits of extraordinary energy followed
by langour and depression, led to frequent disappearances from public
view. One such disappearance lasted for about four years, and only the
romantic aspect of it has been described; the prime cause may have been
overlooked. Here is one view of the matter. Enter Napoleon; exit
Paganini. In 1800 Napoleon crossed the Alps; in 1804, he proclaimed
himself Emperor. He parcelled out Europe, providing for his brothers and
sisters, creating sovereigns at his own sweet will. Italy, invaded by a
foreign foe, shaken with wars, "alarums and excursions," was not a happy
hunting ground for a travelling virtuoso. Paganini vanished from view.
In absolute retirement he lived for over three years at the chateau of a
Tuscan lady of rank, who was a performer upon the guitar. Paganini threw
himself with ardour into the study of that instrument, and became as
great a virtuoso upon it as upon the violin. He composed a number of
pieces for guitar and violin. According to Fetis, Paganini also devoted
himself to the study of agriculture.
But eventually he tired of a life of indolence and dalliance, and in
1804--the country settled now under French government--Paganini returned
to Genoa, but whether to the paternal roof is not clear. He was
doubtless invigorated by his long rest, and now resumed his arduous
course of study. It has been remarked that it was only after Paganini
had attained an almost perfect mastery over his instrument that he began
to investigate the methods of other virtuosi[5]; even so, he had formed
his own style of composition before studying the works of others. Now,
he busied himself with the studies of Locatelli, whose extravagances
almost equalled his own. It is said that he even gave lessons while in
Genoa, and mention is made of one pupil, Catarina Calcagno, who had a
brilliant, but brief career.
In 1805, Paganini resumed his artistic tours, and arriving at Lucca,
played a concerto at an evening festival in a convent church. So great
was the enthusiasm of the audience (or congregation), that the monks
had to leave their stalls to put a stop to the applause. At that time,
Maria Anna (Elise), sister of Napoleon, was Princess of Lucca, and the
Tuscan court was held in that Capital. The fame of Paganini could not
fail to have reached the ears of the Princess, and it was but natural
that the first _virtuoso_ of Italy should receive an official
appointment. So it happened that in the year 1805 he was offered, and
accepted, the post of leader of the Court orchestra, and solo violinist.
He also gave violin lessons to Prince Bacciochi, the husband of Maria
Anna. It was during this period that Paganini began his experiments of
employing less than the four strings of his violin. He gave an account
of the origin of the practice to a friend at Prague many years later.[6]
"It fell to my lot," he said, "to direct the opera whenever the reigning
family visited it, as well as to perform at Court three times a week,
and to get up a public concert for the higher circles every fortnight.
Whenever these were visited by the Princess, she never remained to the
close, because the flageolet tones of my violin were too much for her
nerves. On the other hand there was another fascinating creature ...
who, I flattered myself, felt a penchant for me, and was never absent
from my performances; on my own side, I had long been her admirer
(Paganini was now twenty-three years of age, susceptible, and possibly
himself fascinating.) Our mutual fondness became gradually stronger and
stronger; but we were forced to conceal it, and by this means its
strength and fervour were sensibly enhanced. One day I promised to
surprise her at the next concert, with a musical joke, which should
convey an allusion to our attachment; and I accordingly gave notice at
Court that I should bring forward a musical novelty, under the title of
'A Love Scene.' The whole world was on tiptoe at the tidings; and on the
evening appointed, I made my appearance, violin in hand; I had
previously robbed it of the two middle strings, so that none but E and G
remained. The first string being designed to play the maiden's part, and
the second (fourth) the youth's, I began with a species of dialogue, in
which I attempted to introduce movements analogous to transient
bickerings and reconciliations between the lovers. Now my strings
growled, and then sighed; and anon they lisped, hesitated, joked and
joyed, till at last they sported with merry jubilee. In the course of
time, both souls joined once more in harmony, and the appeased lovers'
quarrel led to a _pas de deux_, which terminated in a brilliant _coda_.
This musical fantasia of mine was greeted with loud applause. The lady,
to whom every scene referred, rewarded me by looks full of delight and
sweetness, and the Princess was charmed into such amiable condescension,
that she loaded me with encomiums--asking me, whether, since I could
produce so much with _two_ strings, it would not be possible for me to
gratify them by playing on _one_. I yielded instant assent--the idea
tickled my fancy--and, as the Emperor's birthday occurred some weeks
afterwards (August 15th,) I composed a sonata for the G string, which I
entitled 'Napoleon,' and played before the Court to so much effect, that
a cantata, by Cimarosa, given the same evening, fell through without
producing any impression on its hearers.[7] This is the genuine and
original cause of my prejudice in favour for the G string. People were
afterwards importunate to hear more of this performance, and in this way
I became day by day a greater adept at it, and acquired constantly
increasing confidence in this peculiar mystery of handling the bow."
More of the "Napoleon Sonata" later.
[Illustration: _Plate IV.--See Appendix._
CARICATURE PUBLISHED 1831.]
When the Princess became Grand Duchess of Tuscany, the Court removed to
Florence, and Paganini, as a matter of course, was in the retinue. His
official career, however, came to an abrupt termination in the early
part of 1813. When appointed Court Musical Director, Paganini was
accorded the rank of Captain in the Royal Guard, and, as such, was
permitted to wear a brilliant uniform. Appearing in this garb at a State
function at Florence, in 1813, the artist was "commanded" to change it
for the ordinary dress suit. This request Paganini construed as an
insult, and refused compliance; whereupon there was a sudden rupture,
and instant resignation of office. Paganini, at different times,
obtained leave of absence, and undertook various professional tours; and
as he met with some strange experiences, we will follow him in his
wanderings.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Anders, and others after him, give the name of the second singer as
Albertinotti. No such name can be traced, and it is probable that it was
the young Bertinotti, who was a juvenile prodigy, appearing in opera at
the age of twelve. She sang in London about the year 1812.
[3] William Gardiner many years later spoke of the transparent delicacy
of Paganini's complexion, and said of his little son Achille that he was
the handsomest boy he had ever seen.
[4] Fetis calls it "Foudroyante execution."
[5] Naumann, "History of Music," p. 1140 (English Edition.)
[6] Professor Julius Schottky.
[7] Cimarosa, who died in 1801, espoused the revolutionary cause when
the French army entered Italy, and was imprisoned and condemned to death
when the reaction came, but was restored to liberty on condition of
leaving Naples. He would, naturally, have been popular with the
Bonapartists, and it was rather ungenerous vanity on the part of
Paganini to have exulted over this particular success.