In 1808 occurred the first of these excursions. Paganini went to
Leghorn, the scene of his early triumphs. He had not been there for
seven years, but his first concert, this visit, was attended with some
unpleasant mishaps. He had run a nail into his heel, and came limping on
the stage, whereupon the audience set up a titter--an incident quite
enough to upset a sensitive artist. Then, just as he was commencing his
concerto, the candles fell from his music-stand, and the laughter was
unrestrained; after a few bars of his solo, the first string of his
violin snapped, and the merriment became uproarious; but he finished the
performance upon the three strings, and the artist soon converted the
audience to a demonstration of a more grateful character. Thus his "one
string" experience served him in good stead.
At Ferrara something worse befell. For his concert there, Paganini had
engaged a vocalist, Signora Marietta Marcolini; but at the last moment,
the lady, either from indisposition or caprice, refused to sing.
Paganini went to his hostel boiling with rage, but was somewhat
mollified on being told there was a lady occupying an apartment in the
same house, who might perhaps take the place of the recalcitrant
singer. This was Signora Pallerini, the principal dancer at the theatre,
who had a very agreeable voice, but who made no pretension to being a
singer, although she was not without training and talent. Paganini lost
no time in seeking the young dancer, and by dint of perseverance
obtained her consent to his wish.
But when the Signora came on to sing she was seized with stage-fright.
Her voice failed her, and her song produced no effect. Paganini offered
his arm to conduct her behind the scenes, but just before they reached
the wing, a shrill whistle was heard--equivalent to a hiss in England.
This was too much; the poor _debutante_ lost consciousness, and fell
into the arms of her friend. Pale with rage, Paganini promised himself a
signal vengeance. The concert was drawing to a close when the angry
artist whispered to Signora Pallerini, "Come! Listen!" He rushed on the
stage, and announcing to the audience that he would conclude the concert
with a musical jest, proceeded to imitate the cries of various animals,
the chirping of birds, the howling of dogs, and the crowing of cocks;
then, with a stolen glance towards the wing, as if to make known the
carrying out of his revenge, he advanced to the footlights, rested his
bow on the "chanterelle," close to the bridge, and with a single stroke
brought it violently on the "G," producing distinctly the sound of the
donkey's hee-haw! "This is for the man who whistled," he exclaimed, with
an air of triumph, and for the second time gave his imitation--with
added energy. Then he awaited the shouts of laughter that should assail
the poor whistler, but something quite different happened. The pit rose
to a man, and howling, whistling, and stamping, the audience proceeded
to storm the stage; and only precipitate flight by means of a private
door, saved the unlucky artist's life.
The explanation came to Paganini later. The inhabitants of the villages
around Ferrara had from time immemorial a strong prejudice against their
Capital. The citizens they alleged were stupid in their nature, and
deserved the sobriquet "hee-haw." If a countryman, returning from
Ferrara, were asked where he came from, he replied by throwing back his
head and braying like an ass! Paganini had no knowledge of local
history; he was not a reader, he never even glanced at the papers,
except when they contained something concerning himself. His revenge
caused quite a tumult, in what way can be well perceived: and the
magistrate, to restore quiet, advised Paganini not to give his second
concert in the town, so that the offenders were really punished all
round.
It is not necessary to enter into details concerning all Paganini's
tours. It appears to have been in 1810 that he wrote the "Napoleon
Sonata," and he performed it in public at a concert given by him at
Parma, August 18th, 1811. His fame was spreading beyond his own country,
and Schilling states that from 1812 the German musical journals bestowed
much attention upon him. He was at Milan in 1813, and his success there
was greater than ever. For that city he appeared to have a predilection,
for he was there, with the exception of a short stay at Genoa, until the
autumn of 1814. At that time he was by no means a recluse. He visited
the theatre, La Scala, and witnessed a performance of Vigano's ballet,
"Il Noce di Benevento," to which Suessmayer wrote the music; and from a
certain scene he took the theme of his variations known as "Le Streghe."
At a theatre he was inspired to write one of his finest movements. He
went to hear Demarini, Italy's greatest tragedian, and was so affected
by one scene that he could not sleep, and his emotion ultimately found
expression in music. This will be dealt with when noticing his
compositions.
In October, 1814, Paganini went to Bologna, and there met Rossini for
the first time. Rossini, nine years the junior of Paganini, had already
produced a dozen operas--two in Milan that year. By Court favour Rossini
had just escaped the conscription, and had hastened away to Bologna. The
meeting of these artists was of importance to both. Meyerbeer went to
Italy in 1815, and was there for some years, producing several operas.
Laphaleque tells a story to this effect: Meyerbeer was on the eve of
leaving Florence to proceed to Naples to bring out one of his works. He
did not yet know that place, and it offered a double attraction; he
wanted to enjoy the beautiful blue sky as well as his artistic triumph.
But he went to hear Paganini, and dreamt no more of Naples, nor of his
opera. Paganini travelled all through Tuscany, and Meyerbeer followed;
and not until he had heard Paganini eighteen times could he tear himself
away from him.
Within the period of five years, Paganini returned to Milan five times,
making a long stay on each occasion, and giving a great number of
concerts. He played at Verona, Padua--where the "prison" stories seem to
have originated--returned to Milan early in 1816, when he met the
French violinist, Charles Lafont, with whom he played and of whom more
will be said. Then to Venice, Trieste, and back to Venice in time to
hear Spohr (October 18th), on whom he called both before and after the
concert. Spohr greatly desired to hear Paganini play, but the latter
excused himself.
Paganini must ere this have received invitations to visit other
countries, for Spohr in his diary remarks, when referring to Paganini's
first visit, that he had apparently abandoned his project of going to
Vienna. In 1817, Paganini visited Piacenza, where he met the Polish
violinist, Karl Joseph von Lipinski, who had gone to Italy expressly to
hear Paganini. The Italian treated his Polish brother artist generously,
and played with him at two concerts. Paganini was also again at Milan
that year and paid a visit to his mother at Genoa. According to Anders,
his father died in 1817. At the close of the same year Paganini was in
Rome, where Rossini's opera "La Cenerentola" was produced at the opening
of the Carnival season, December 26th. It is related that Meyerbeer was
also in Rome at this time, and that Rossini's "Carnovale" was sung in
the streets by the composer, Meyerbeer, and Paganini, who disguised
themselves for the frolic. Paganini in the Palace of Prince von Kaunitz,
the Austrian Ambassador, was introduced to Prince Metternich, who,
charmed with his talent, pressed him to visit Vienna. But the
violinist's health was in a precarious state. He suffered from an
intestinal disorder, aggravated by his addiction to some quack remedy.
He gave concerts in Rome, of which Schilling, who gives the date,
however, as 1827, gives a very curious account. The first concert,
though held in a Palace--such buildings being met with at every
step--was in a room like a hay-loft. The orchestra consisted of some
half-dozen shabbily dressed players, the singers were mechanics, members
of the chorus of the Teatro Argentina, and the audience scarcely
numbered fifty. Rome, professedly the first musical city of Italy, and
of Europe, was ignorant of Paganini, the greatest violin virtuoso of
Italy and the world. But his extraordinary genius kindled coldness into
enthusiasm. At his second concert the attendance increased tenfold; at
the third the success was even greater.
In 1818, and the following year, he gave concerts at Verona, Turin,
Florence, and other towns. At Verona, the conductor of the theatre
orchestra, one Valdabrini, persuaded himself that Paganini was little
else than a charlatan, one who might play the pieces of his own
repertory very well, but who could not execute a work such as a concerto
of his, Valdabrini's, composition. Paganini was informed of this
estimate of his abilities, and hastened to assure Valdabrini that he
would be happy to reproduce the inspirations of the _chef d'orchestre_
of Verona; and as this trial would be a powerful attraction, he would
reserve it for his last concert. The day of rehearsal arrived, and
Paganini was in his place. Instead of the music of the concerto,
however, the artist improvised all kinds of fanciful passages, insomuch
that the astonished orchestral players, lost in admiration, forgot to go
on with their own work. The disappointed Valdabrini exclaimed: "My
friend, this is not my concerto you are playing, I can recognise
nothing of what I have written." "Don't distress yourself," replied
Paganini, "at the concert you will recognise your work well enough, only
now I claim a little indulgence."
The concert night arrived, and Paganini commenced with pieces of his own
choice, reserving the concerto for the end. All were attention for the
great event. Paganini came on at last, holding in his hand a Malacca
walking cane. Everyone asked himself: What will he do with that?
Suddenly he seized his violin, and, employing the cane as a bow, played
the concerto (thought by the composer to be practicable only after long
study) from beginning to end, not only rendering the most difficult
passages, but introducing charming variations, never failing for an
instant to display the purity, grace and verve that characterised his
art.[8] This pleasantry was not to the taste of Valdabrini, we may be
sure; but it was a rebuke to his presumption. Such amenities are
scarcely possible now-a-days.
Paganini visited Naples in 1819 for the first time. When he arrived he
found the local musicians badly disposed towards him, and he had
something like a repetition of his experience at Verona, only he used
the cane no more! These musicians affected to doubt the reality of the
marvels fame attributed to Paganini, and proposed to amuse themselves at
his expense. They engaged a young composer, Danna (Dana?)[9] fresh from
the Conservatorio, to write a string quartet, filled with difficulties
of every kind--for the first violin--persuading themselves that the
great violinist could not overcome them. When all was ready--no doubt
the other parts had been well practised--Paganini was invited to a
musical reunion, where he found the violinists Onorio de Vito, Giuseppe
Mario Festa, the violoncellist Ciandelli, and the composer Danna. Hardly
had he arrived, when they placed the music before him, and invited him
to play it at sight. Perceiving that they had set a trap for him,
Paganini cast a hurried glance at the music, and played it off as though
it had long been familiar to him. Confounded by what they heard, his
assistants were prodigal in their admiration, and declared him
incomparable.
Paganini's health now gave way to an alarming degree, and his landlord,
fearing the malady was consumption--infectious, according to current
opinion--proceeded to turn the violinist and his belongings into the
street. Medical science has confirmed the views of the Neapolitans in
respect to the contagious character of consumption, and the open-air
treatment is now considered the proper method to adopt; but the
landlord's rough and ready application of the remedy was highly
objectionable, and so thought Ciandelli, who chanced to be passing at
the time. He gave the landlord a severe thrashing, and conveyed Paganini
to more comfortable lodgings, where he was carefully tended. Paganini
repaid this act of kindness, as will be seen. These little scenes throw
curious side-lights on life in Naples at that period.
In 1820, Paganini returned to Milan, where he founded an Amateur
Society, _Gli Orfei_, and conducted its concerts for a time; but the
roving habits he had acquired rendered a settled life irksome, and he
was soon again on the move. The winter found him once more in Rome,
where he must have stayed on and off for another year; for he was
there in December, 1821, when Rossini was about to produce his opera,
"Matilda di Sabran," at the opening of the Carnival season. On the day
of the last rehearsal the conductor fell ill, and Rossini was in
despair to replace him. Paganini, hearing of his friend's dilemma,
offered to conduct the rehearsal and the first performance--his
operatic experience at Lucca must not be forgotten--an offer Rossini
gratefully accepted. Without a moment's preparation, Paganini set to
work to communicate to an unskilled orchestra--it was at the _Teatro
d'Apollone_--the composer's intentions and the manner in which they
should be interpreted. Having no time for verbal explanation, he did
everything by example, playing the first violin part an octave higher
than it was written, and making himself heard above the strongest
_fortissimo_. At a glance he penetrated the meaning of every movement,
and he so worked upon the executants that they obeyed him as if
by enchantment. This single rehearsal sufficed to bring about an
irreproachable performance, the orchestra undergoing a veritable
metamorphosis, to the astonishment of everyone, Rossini included. So
far Laphaleque. Sutherland Edwards[10] says Paganini conducted the
first three performances, adding, "Never, it is said, did the band of
the 'Apollo' play with so much spirit before."
For the next two years Paganini was constantly travelling, and in the
year 1823 we have the first glimpse of him through the medium of an
English musical journal.[11] This first reference is quite incidental.
Giuseppe Rastrelli was playing in Naples in 1822 (or 1823), and was well
received, "although his predecessor, the celebrated Paganini," was still
fresh in the public remembrance. This assumes that Paganini was well
known to English readers. He had indeed been mentioned in books
published before this date. On his way to Pavia in 1823, Paganini was
attacked with illness, and his life was despaired of. At that time he
had again intended going to Austria, but a long rest was needed to
restore his health. This repose he enjoyed at Genoa, and recovered
sufficiently to give two concerts in the _Teatro da Sant'Agostino_, in
1824. The second concert introduced two youthful claimants to public
favour. The first was a Signora Bianchi, under twenty years of age, who
was characterised in the bills as the little _virtuosa forestiera_, and
who sang three airs; the other was a Signora Barette, who played a
_Pezzo Cantabile_ and a _Sonatina_ upon the violoncello. They both
experienced a flattering reception.[12] The young violoncellist was not
more than fourteen years old, and there is no reason to suppose that she
was the first of her sex to appear in public as a violoncellist. The
other "little guest" or stranger was to play an important part in
Paganini's history.
This concert afforded another proof of Paganini's power of attraction. A
certain M. Bergman, a (Swedish?) traveller and passionate lover of
music, reading accidentally the evening before in the journal at
Leghorn, an announcement of Paganini's concert, lost no time, but
instantly set out for Genoa, a distance of a hundred miles, and luckily
reached the spot just half an hour before the concert began. He went
with his expectations raised to the utmost, but, to use his own
expression, the reality was as far above his anticipations as the
heavens are above the earth. Nor could this enthusiastic amateur rest
content with once hearing Paganini, but actually followed him to Milan,
in order to hear him exercise his talents a second time. Now-a-days the
enthusiasts are young ladies, who mob their favourites in the artists'
room!
In 1824 Paganini gave two concerts in _La Scala_, Milan, which was
crowded to excess. At the first he played a concerto, and three airs
with variations--all on the fourth string, so said the report. A
surfeit, this, even for his fervent admirers. In the same year at Pavia,
he gave two concerts, the bills being headed:
PAGANINI
_Fara sentire il suo Violino._
(Paganini will cause his violin to be heard.) He was received with no
less enthusiasm than at Milan. Paganini then returned to Genoa, but soon
left for Venice. There he formed an union with Antonia Bianchi, the
young singer he introduced at Genoa, who became his companion, sang at
his concerts, and shared his triumphs.
In 1825, Paganini was again at Naples, where he gave a concert, causing
his name to be announced in the bills as--
_Filarmonico_,
a term which gave rise to much discussion, some considering it as
indicating modesty, others just the reverse; but at all events it
savoured of affectation. In the summer of 1825, Paganini went to
Palermo, where he also gave a concert. The delicious climate of Sicily
had a great charm for him, and he remained there for nearly a year,
giving concerts at different places, but enjoying prolonged intervals of
repose. His health strengthened, Paganini again entertained the idea of
leaving Italy, but determined upon one more tour before carrying out his
intention. In 1826, he visited Trieste, Venice, and finally Rome, where
he gave five concerts. In April, 1827, Pope Leo XII. invested Paganini
with the order of the Golden Spur, a distinction so rare that it
afforded a topic for conversation for some time. From Rome Paganini went
to Florence, and as "Il Cavaliere Paganini" gave a concert at the
_Teatro Pergola_, which was attended by all the rank and fashion of the
place. He was detained for some time at Florence owing to a disease
breaking out in one of his legs. As soon as he was able to travel he set
out for Milan, where he was received with every demonstration of
affection. He gave four musical soirees at the close of 1827, and in
the early part of 1828, two concerts in _La Scala_, when he appears to
have played for the first time the concerto with the "Rondo ad un
Campanello;" the piece created a great effect. Paganini had now
traversed the whole of Italy at least three times, giving hundreds of
concerts, building up an ever growing reputation and exciting universal
admiration, despite those detractors whose machinations have been
exposed. At last, on the 2nd of March, 1828, Paganini started on his
long projected visit to Vienna.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Laphaleque.
[9] Son of Giuseppe Dana, of Naples?
[10] The Life of Rossini, p. 226.
[11] With the exception of a Literary Supplement to the "New Musical and
Universal Magazine," 1774, there was no publication devoted to Music
until the year 1818, when "The Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review"
appeared, edited by Robert Mackenzie Bacon. This was followed in 1823 by
"The Harmonicon," edited by William Ayrton.
[12] Harmonicon, Vol. III., p. 37.