by the readiest and most varied mechanism imaginable, but he was a
poet by his exquisite feeling for the beauties of music and his ready
conception of the style necessary for imparting the true character
of each composition. Pollani, pupil of Nardini, was one of Baillot’s
masters; but the immense natural talent of Baillot formed the rich
basis of his own fancy; a great solo performer, he never went to the
extent of his vast capabilities, if the work he was to interpret failed
to awaken his appreciation. At the Opera, where he was engaged to play
the solos for dancing, he was only the shadow of himself; but when at
annual meetings for the performance of quartetts and quintetts, with
the genius of Boccherini, of Haydn, of Mozart, and of Beethoven, his
enthusiasm was aroused; he became sublime and unequalled for his varied
accentuation, the various shadings of expression, and the poetry of his
ideas. His bow was magical; and every note under his fingers became an
eloquent inspiration. Baillot was not only a great violinist--he was a
great professor. The number of excellent violinists who were his pupils
is considerable. His school produced Habeneck and Mazas--both of whom
were eminent artists. Having become professor at the Conservatory of
Paris, and the successor of his master, Habeneck produced some clever
pupils, at the head of whom stands M. Alard, the present chief of the
French school.
Lafont, too, one of the bright glories of the French school of
violinists, was, at first, the pupil of Kreutzer. Dissatisfied with the
style of his master, which did not sympathise with his own, he joined
the school of Rode, which seemed formed for the development of his own
qualities, combining grace, purity, elegance, and charm--qualities
which, subsequently, with study, rendered him a perfect master of his
art. The perfection of his intonation was so certain--the style of his
bowing so seductive--his taste so exquisite in his ornament--that, if
the sentiment of grandeur left anything to be desired, it was scarcely
perceptible, it was lost in the rapture created by his grace and
delicacy.
A new school has been formed. I allude to the Belgian school for the
Violin, which numbers a nation of heroes, the chiefs of whom are De
Bériot and Vieuxtemps; but, convinced that the history of one’s friends
is as difficult to write as that of one’s enemies, I shall leave to
future historians the agreeable task of handing down to posterity the
names of these glories of their country.
Germany has produced several schools of violinists, whose principal
qualities have been perfect intonation and neat execution; but which
in the eighteenth century, especially, wanted a more powerful tone
and broadness of execution. The prodigies invented by Walther in the
seventeenth century, seem not to have left any traces. Italy and
Bohemia were the cradles of two schools of German violinists, from
whence the others proceeded.
Corelli, who disseminated everywhere the effects of his powerful
influence, was first violinist in the chapel of the Margrave of
Anspach, in 1699, when Pisendel, then choir-boy, became his pupil,
and made such progress under his guidance, that he became first
violinist of the chapel in 1702. This Pisendel, having become an
eminent violinist, was attached to the Court of Saxony as master of
the concerts, and opened, at Dresden, a school for the Violin. All the
traditions of his master were transmitted to his pupils, but with the
mannerism that was in vogue at the Court of Dresden. It was here the
talent of Johann Gottlieb Graun, brother of the celebrated composer
of that name, and master of the concerts of Frederick the Great, King
of Prussia, was formed. Graun possessed sterling talent, of which he
afforded many proofs, both by the pupils he made and by twenty-nine
concertos for the Violin in manuscript, some of which I have seen, and
which evince a remarkable degree of cleverness. In his youth, when
he left the school of Pisendel, he went to Italy, and there received
lessons from Tartini, whose style he adopted.
The school for the Violin founded in Bohemia, commenced by Konieseck of
Prague. Konieseck is only known as having been the master of Francis
Benda, a great artist, born at Althenatka, in Bohemia, the 23rd of
November, 1709. His first master was a blind Jew, of the name of
Lœbel, a very eminent violinist. He subsequently became the pupil of
Konieseck, and acquired his brilliant style, though deficient in tone,
which he transmitted to all his pupils. The school of Benda, from which
proceeded his two sons, Ramnitz, Rust, Matthes, and several others, was
celebrated for a long period in Germany. From this school came most of
the Saxon and Prussian violinists. Benda, after the death of Graun,
succeeded him as master of the concerts at the Court of Prussia in
1772, and died at Potsdam in 1786.
John Charles Stamitz, a remarkable violinist, and distinguished
composer, emanated from Bohemia; he was born in 1719, his Violin master
was a monk of the Abbey of Reichenau, the Father Czernohorsky. Being
in the service of the Palatinate Elector in 1745, Stamitz became
the founder of the celebrated school of Mannheim, which produced the
greater number of the German violinists of later days. The concertos
of Stamitz, and a duet for one Violin, several times published,
would alone suffice to prove the great capabilities of this artist:
even did his pupils not bear evidence in favour of this judgment.
Among his pupils were his two sons, Charles and Anthony, Canabich,
Foerster, and several others. Christian Canabich succeeded his master;
and his pupils were William Cramer, Danner, Ignace Fraenzel, all of
whom were distinguished artists, but of different styles. Cramer and
Danner possessed broadness in the style of bowing, but Fraenzel was a
graceful and elegant performer, though his tone was somewhat thin. A
pupil of Danner, John Frederick Eck, born at Mannheim in 1766, became
a brilliant violinist of this school. This artist, director of the
concerts of the Court of Munich, was the master of Spohr--at least,
as far as talent can be formed, until individual organisation and
meditation receive the stamp of personality. Louis Spohr has founded a
Violin school in Germany, on a more extended and more vigorous scale
than those of his predecessors. When Paganini heard him at Venice, he
spoke of him in unqualified terms of approbation. This worthy artist
has formed many pupils, who occupy most honourable positions in the
large cities, and he has exposed the principles of his school in an
extensive work, published by Haslinger, of Vienna, and subsequently
translated into French and English.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Nicolo Paganini.
Genius--talent, whatever its extent--cannot always count upon
popularity. Susceptibility of the highest conceptions of the most
sublime creations, frequently fail in securing the attention of the
multitude. How is this most coveted point to be attained? It would be
difficult to arrive at any precise conclusion, from the fact that it
applies to matters totally differing from each other; it is, however,
perhaps possible to define the aggregation of qualities required to
move the public in masses, by calling it “sympathetic wonderment.”
Fortunate boldness is its characteristic mark; originality its absolute
condition. The most renowned popularities of the nineteenth century
have each differed in their specialty,--Napoleon Bonaparte, Rossini,
and Paganini. Many other names, doubtless, recall talents of the finest
order, and personalities of the highest value; yet, notwithstanding
their having been duly appreciated by the intelligent and enlightened
classes, they have not called forth those outbursts of enthusiasm
which have been manifested towards others during an entire generation.
The truly popular name appears surrounded by its prestige, even to
the lowest degrees of the social scale; such was the case with the
prodigious artist who is the object of this notice.
Nicolo Paganini, the most extraordinary--the most renowned violinist
of the nineteenth century--was born on February the 18th, 1784. His
father, Antonio Paganini, a commercial broker, or simply a broker’s
clerk, according to some biographers, was passionately fond of music,
and played upon the mandoline. His penetration soon discovered the
aptitude of his son for this art. He resolved that study should
develope it. His excessive severity would have probably led to results
contrary to those he expected, had not the younger Paganini been
endowed with the firm determination of becoming an artist. From the
age of six years he was a musician, and played the Violin. The lessons
he received from his father, as may be presumed, were not given in the
most gentle manner. The ill-treatment to which he was subjected during
this period of his youth, appears to have exercised a fatal influence
upon his nervous and delicate constitution. From his first attempts
he was imbued with the disposition to execute feats of strength and
agility upon his instrument. His instinct urged him to attempt the most
extraordinary things; his precocious skill exciting the astonishment of
his young friends. His confidence in the future was not to be shaken,
from the fact of his mother saying to him one day, “My son, you will be
a great musician. An angel, radiant with beauty, appeared to me during
the night, and, addressing me, spoke thus: ‘If thou wouldst proffer a
wish, it shall be accomplished.’ I asked that you should become the
greatest of all violinists, and the angel promised the fulfilment of my
desire.”
His father’s lessons soon became useless, and Servetto, a musician
of the theatre, at Genoa, became his teacher; but even he was not
possessed of sufficient ability to be of benefit to this predestined
artist. Paganini received his instructions for a short period only, and
he was placed under Giacomo Costa, director of music, and principal
violinist to the churches of Genoa, under whose care he progressed
rapidly. He had now attained his eighth year, when he wrote his first
sonata, which he unfortunately took no care of, and has been lost among
many other of his productions. His countryman, Gnecco, a distinguished
composer, encouraged the visits of the boy, and tendered counsel
which doubtless aided him materially in his progress. Costa only gave
him lessons for six months, during which period he obliged his pupil
to play in the churches. But the master’s instructions were not at
all satisfactory to the pupil, who had already conceived a method of
fingering and bowing.
Having reached his ninth year, the young _virtuoso_ appeared in
public, for the first time, in a concert at the large theatre of his
native town, given by the excellent soprano Marchesi, with the vocalist
Albertinatti. These two artists sang subsequently at a concert for
Paganini’s benefit, and in both these instances this extraordinary
child played variations of his own composition on the French air,
“la Carmagnole,” amid the frenzied acclamations of an enthusiastic
audience. About this period of his life the father was advised, by
judicious friends, to place the boy under good masters of the Violin
and composition; and he shortly after took him to Parma, where
Alexandro Rolla then resided, so celebrated for his performance, as
conductor of the orchestra, and as a composer. Paganini was now twelve
years of age. The following anecdote, related by M. Schottky, and which
Paganini published in a Vienna journal, furnishes interesting details
of the master’s first interview with the young artist:--“On arriving
at Rolla’s house, he said, we found him ill, and in bed. His wife
conducted us into a room adjoining the one where the sick man lay, in
order to concert with her husband, who, it appeared, was not at all
disposed to receive us. Perceiving upon the table of the chamber into
which we were ushered a Violin, and the last concerto of Rolla, I took
up the Violin and played the piece at first sight. Surprised at what
he heard, the composer inquired the name of the _virtuoso_ he had just
heard. When he heard it was only a mere lad, he would not give credence
to the fact unless by ocular demonstration. Thus satisfied, he told
me, that he could teach me nothing, and recommended me to take lessons
in composition from Paër.” The evident desire evinced by Paganini to
refute the supposition of his having received lessons from Rolla, is a
singularity difficult to account for. Gervasoni, who knew him at Parma
at this period, affirms[C] that he was the pupil of Rolla for several
months. However, it was not Paër, then in Germany, who taught Paganini
harmony and counterpoint, but Ghiretti, who had directed the studies
of Paër himself. During six months this precocious artist received
three lessons weekly, and specially applied himself to the study of
instrumentation. Even now Paganini was occupied in discovering new
effects on his instrument. Frequent discussions took place between him
and Rolla on the innovations which the young artist contemplated, and
which he could, at this period, only execute imperfectly, whilst the
severe taste of his master deprecated these bold attempts, except for
the sake of occasional effects. It was, however, only after his return
to Genoa, that Paganini wrote his first compositions for the Violin.
This music was so difficult that he was obliged to study it himself
with increasing perseverance, and to make constant efforts to solve
problems unknown to all other violinists. He was seen to have tried the
same passage in a thousand different ways during ten or twelve hours,
and to be completely overwhelmed with fatigue at the end of the day.
It is by this unexampled perseverance that he overcame difficulties
which were considered insurmountable by contemporary artists, when he
published a specimen in the shape of a collection of studies.
Quitting Parma, at the commencement of 1797, Paganini made his first
professional tour with his father through all the principal towns in
Lombardy, and commenced a reputation which increased daily from that
period. On his return to Genoa, and after having, in solitude, made
the efforts necessary for the development of his talent, he began to
feel the weight of the chain by which he was held by his father, and
determined to release himself from the ill-treatment to which he was
still subjected under the paternal roof. His artistic soul revolted
at this degrading slavery, and felt that some respect was due to him.
A favourable opportunity alone was required to execute his design.
This soon presented itself. The fête of St. Martin was celebrated
annually at Lucca by a musical festival, to which persons flocked from
every part of Italy. As this period approached, Paganini entreated
his father to permit him to attend it, accompanied by his elder
brother. His demand was at first met with a peremptory refusal; but
the solicitations of the son, and the prayers of the mother, finally
prevailed, and the heart of the young artist, at liberty for the first
time, bounded with joy and he set out agitated by dreams of success
and happiness. At Lucca he was received with enthusiasm. Encouraged by
this propitious débût, he visited Pisa, and some other towns, in all of
which his success was unequivocal. The year 1799 had just commenced,
and Paganini had not attained his fifteenth year. This is not the age
of prudence. His moral education had been grossly neglected, and the
severity which assailed his more youthful years, was not calculated to
awaken him to the dangers of a life of freedom. Freed from restraint,
and relishing the delights of his new-born independence, he formed
connections with other artists, whose sole abilities seemed to consist
in encouraging a taste for gambling in young men of family and means,
and turning the tables upon them to their own advantage. Paganini, in
this manner, frequently lost the produce of several concerts in one
night, and was consequently often in a state of great embarrassment.
His talent soon procured fresh resources, and time passed gaily enough,
alternately between good and bad fortune. He was frequently reduced, by
distress, to part with his Violin. In this condition he found himself
at Leghorn, and was indebted to the kindness of a French merchant,
(M. Livron), a distinguished amateur, for the loan of a Violin, an
excellent Guarnieri. When the concert had concluded, Paganini brought
it back to its owner, when this gentleman exclaimed, “Never will I
profane strings which your fingers have touched; that instrument is
now yours.” This is the Violin Paganini afterwards used in all his
concerts. A similar event occurred to him at Parma, but under different
circumstances. Pasini, an eminent painter, and an excellent amateur
performer on the Violin, had disbelieved the prodigious faculty imputed
to Paganini, of playing the most difficult music at first sight, as
well as if he had maturely studied it. He brought him a manuscript
concerto, containing the most difficult passages, imagined almost
by every performer as insurmountable, and placing in his hands an
excellent instrument of Stradiuari, added, “This instrument shall be
yours, if you can play, in a masterly manner, that concerto at first
sight.” “If that is the case,” replied Paganini, “you may bid adieu to
it,” and he forthwith, by his exquisite performance of the piece, threw
Pasini into extatic admiration.
Adventures of every kind characterise this period of Paganini’s early
days; the enthusiasm of art, love, and gambling, divided his time,
despite the warnings of a delicate constitution, which proclaimed the
necessity of great care. Heedless of everything, he continued his
career of dissipation, until the prostration of all his faculties
forced a respite. He would then lie up for several weeks, in a state
of absolute repose, until, with refreshed energies, he recommenced his
artistic career and wandering life. Unexpected resources occasionally
relieved him from positive poverty. In this position, at seventeen
years of age, being at Leghorn, in 1801, he became acquainted with a
wealthy Swedish amateur, whose favourite instrument was the bassoon.
Complaining that he could meet with no music for his instrument,
sufficiently difficult for his talent, Paganini provided him with
compositions almost impracticable, for which he was richly rewarded.
It was to be feared that this dissolute life would ultimately deprive
the world of his marvellous talent, when an unforeseen and important
circumstance, related by himself, ended his fatal passion for gambling.
“I shall never forget,” he said, “that I one day, placed myself in
a position which was to decide my future. The Prince of ---- had,
for some time, coveted the possession of my Violin--the only one I
possessed at that period, and which I still have. He, on one particular
occasion, was extremely anxious that I should mention the sum for which
I would dispose of it; but not wishing to part with my instrument, I
declared I would not sell it for 250 gold napoleons. Some time after
the Prince said to me that I was, doubtless, only speaking in jest
in asking such a sum, but that he would be willing to give me 2,000
francs. I was, at this moment, in the greatest want of money to meet a
debt of honour I had incurred at play, and was almost tempted to accept
the proffered amount, when I received an invitation to a party that
evening at a friend’s house. All my capital consisted of thirty francs,
as I had disposed of all my jewels, watch, rings, and brooches, &c. I
resolved on risking this last resource; and, if fortune proved fickle,
to sell my Violin to the Prince and to proceed to St. Petersburg,
without instrument or luggage, with the view of re-establishing my
affairs; my thirty francs were reduced to three, and I fancied myself
on the road to Russia, when suddenly my fortune took a sudden turn;
and, with the small remains of my capital I won 160 francs. This amount
saved my Violin, and completely set me up. From that day I abjured
gambling--to which I had sacrificed part of my youth--convinced that a
gamester is an object of contempt to all well-regulated minds.”
Although he was still in the prime of youth, Paganini knew of nothing
but success and profit, when, during one of those hallucinations to
which all great artists are subject, the Violin lost its attractions
in his eyes. A lady of rank having fallen desperately in love with
him, and the feeling being reciprocated, he withdrew with her to an
estate she possessed in Tuscany.[D] This lady played the Guitar, and
Paganini imbibed a taste for that instrument, and applied himself as
sedulously to its practice as he had formerly done with the Violin. He
soon discovered new resources, which he imparted to his friend; and
during a period of three years, he devoted all the energies of his
mind to its study, and to agricultural pursuits, for which the lady’s
estate afforded him ample opportunities. It was at this period he wrote
his two sonatas for Guitar and Violin, which form his second and third
works.
Love cools with time in a castle as in a cottage. Paganini discovered
this; all his former penchant for the Violin returned, and he decided
on resuming his travels. On his return to Genoa, in 1804, he occupied
himself solely with composition, and wrote here his fourth work which
consists of four grand quartetts for Violin, Viol, Guitar, and
Violoncello; and bravura variations for Violin, on an original theme,
with Guitar accompaniment, which forms his fifth work. It appears too,
that at this period he gave instruction on the Violin to Catarina
Calcagno,[E] born at Genoa, in 1797, who, at the age of fifteen,
astounded Italy by the boldness of her style. All traces of her seem
lost after 1816. Towards the middle of 1805, Paganini left Genoa, to
undertake a new tour in Italy. The first town he visited was Lucca,
the scene of his first successes. Here he again created so great a
sensation by a concerto he performed at a nocturnal festival in a
convent chapel, that the monks were obliged to leave their stalls, in
order to repress the applause which burst forth despite the sanctity
of the place. He was then twenty-one years of age. The principality of
Lucca and Piombino had been organised in the month of March, of the
same year, in favour of the Princess Eliza, sister of Napoleon, and the
wife of Prince Bacciochi. The Court had fixed its residence in the town
of Lucca. The great reputation of the violinist induced the Princess to
offer him the posts of director of her private music, and conductor of
the opera orchestra. Notwithstanding his propensity for independence of
action, and although the emoluments were scanty, the position pleased
him, and he accepted it. The Prince Bacciochi received instruction from
him on the Violin. The Princess, who had appreciated the originality of
his talent, induced him to extend his discoveries of novel effects upon
the instrument. To convince him of the interest he had inspired her
with, she granted him the grade of captain in the royal gendarmerie,
so that he might be admitted with his brilliant costume to all the
great Court receptions. Paganini added many novelties to those which
characterised his talent. Thus, seeking to vary the effect of his
instrument at the Court concerts, where it was his duty to play, he
removed the second and third strings, and composed a dialogue for the
first and fourth strings. He has related this circumstance himself
nearly in these terms:--