CHAPTER X.

CHAMBER MUSIC OF RECENT TIMES.

Trio by E. Schütt—Trio by Kirchner—Raff’s C minor Trio—Balfe’s

Trio in A major—Trio: C. Hubert Parry—Trio:

Bargiel—Sterndale Bennett’s Trio, op. 26—Trio, D minor:

F.E. Bache—Trio, E flat: Nawratil—Trio: Goetz—Trio:

Schmidt—Other Trios—String Trios—Quartett: Mackenzie—E

flat Quartett: Rheinberger—Quartett: W. Rabl—Quartett:

Prout—Quartett: Verdi—Quartett: Onslow—Quartett:

W.H. Veit—Unusual combinations 191

APPENDIX A.—Chronological and Biographical 209

APPENDIX B.—Glossary of Terms 244

INDEX 249

List of Illustrations.

PAGE

“CHANT D’AMOUR”: Photogravure after Sir E. Burne-Jones’s

Painting _Frontispiece_

A GROUP OF MUSICIANS 15

THE JOACHIM QUARTETT _Face_ 32

BEETHOVEN _Face_ 71

BRAHMS _Face_ 101

THE BOHEMIAN QUARTETT _Face_ 123

IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF AND ARENSKY _Face_ 135

RICHARD STRAUSS 178

The Story of Chamber Music.

CHAPTER I.

THE BEGINNINGS OF CHAMBER MUSIC.

How Chamber Music began—Early Chamber Music

compositions—Musical position of England—Purcell—J.S.

Bach—Great violin makers—Haydn and Mozart—Corelli and the

compass of the violin—William Shield and 5/4 time.

“In the time of the Frankish kings,” says Mr. H.E. Krehbiel,[3] “the

word chamber was applied to the room in the royal palace in which the

monarch’s private property was kept, and in which he looked after

his private affairs. When royalty took up the cultivation of music

it was as a private, not as a court function, and the concerts given

for the entertainment of the royal family took place in the king’s

chamber or private room. The musicians were nothing more nor less than

servants in the royal household. This relationship endured into the

present century. Haydn was a _Haus-officier_ of Prince Esterhazy.

As vice-chapelmaster he had to appear every morning in the prince’s

ante-room to receive orders concerning the dinner music and other

entertainments of the day.”

[Footnote 3: _How to Listen to Music_, p. 45.]

[Sidenote: =How Chamber Music began=]

This may be taken as one explanation of the origin of chamber music.

Another is that near the end of the fifteenth century, madrigals and

other pieces which no doubt were originally intended for singing began

to be described as “madrigali et arie per sonare et cantare,” or, in

the plain English of the time, “apt for voices and instruments,” by

which is meant that the instruments joined with the voices probably at

first to support them, both performing the same music.

About the same period and earlier it became customary to introduce

instrumental music at the banquets of the wealthier classes, and what

may be regarded as chamber music was used as a stimulus and a cover for

conversation, a practice not even yet quite obsolete.

[Sidenote: =Early Chamber Music Compositions=]

From some such sources it seems likely that this form of music made a

beginning. Composers then began to turn their attention to the growing

requirements of such performers, and we find that many works were

issued chiefly in the form of Courantes, Sarabandes, Gavottes, Gigues,

and other dance forms. Music called Fancies, and sets of Ayres, and

other pieces for lutes (a kind of guitar), and viols (the predecessor

of the violin), also incidental music for masques, were much in vogue

in England about this time, composed, among others, by Morley, Gibbons,

John Dowland, Mace, Sympson, Jenkins, Lawes, and Locke. Hugh Aston,

an instrumental composer of distinction, may also be mentioned. He

left, among other works, a hornpipe which is remarkable. There is

also a virginal book in the library at Cambridge that contains two or

three hundred pieces for virginals, which instrument was a kind of

harpsichord. In 1611 a collection of music for the same instrument

was issued, the compositions of Byrd, Bull, and Gibbons. It was

called “Parthenia.” Byrd’s “Variations on the Carman’s Whistle,” and

Sellinger’s “Round,” are noteworthy works. John Jenkins published

sonatas for two violins and a bass, with thorough bass for the organ

and theorbo.

This was the great period of English music. Our position as compared

with other nations was one of artistic supremacy, and we ought not to

forget this as Continental writers are apt to do to-day.[4]

[Footnote 4: Such parchments as the “Angelus ad Virginem Hymn” (No.

284 Arundel MSS., Brit. Mus.); Hymn to St. Augustine (No. 572 Bodleian

MSS., Oxford); and “Sumer is icumen in” (No. 678 Harleian Collection,

Brit. Mus.), indisputably prove that in the tenth and eleventh

centuries English musicians were hundreds of years in advance of

Continental composers in polyphonic composition.—ED.]

[Sidenote: =Musical Position of England=]

Later on compositions such as we have mentioned were followed both

in England and on the Continent by works of a more highly organised

character, and to some of them the titles Sonata and Concerto were

applied. These must not, however, be confused with the music of like

name of our day, for they were much simpler in construction, and

contained little or nothing of what we call development.

[Sidenote: =Purcell=]

[Illustration: Joh. Brahms [signature]]

Thus we find, to name but a few examples, that Reinken (1623-1722), a

pupil of the celebrated Amsterdam composer, Sweelinck, wrote a notable

Quartett, or Suite, for two violins, viola, and bass, which he called

“Hortus Musicus.” Our own Henry Purcell (1658-95), whose compositions

in many styles are so justly held in high esteem, left among others the

so-called Golden Sonata, one of a fine set for stringed instruments.

Corelli (1653-1713) too, a distinguished violinist and composer, of

Italian origin, published in 1685 (the year J.S. Bach was born), twelve

chamber sonatas for two violins, ’cello, and harpsichord.

[Sidenote: =J.S. Bach=]

John Sebastian Bach (1685-1750), whose mighty influence pervades the

art of music of our day, and seems likely to increase in the future,

wrote in all styles, even that of the Humorous Cantata. We need,

however, here only mention his clavier music, which alone extends to

four goodly-sized volumes; his compositions for clavier and strings,

and flute; and, especially as belonging more particularly to chamber

music, the Sonata in C major for two violins and clavier; another in

G major for flute, violin, and clavier; and also that in C minor for

the same instruments, from the so-called “Musical Offering,” which was

written for the Emperor Frederick the Great of Prussia, on a theme

given to Bach by that monarch himself.

Among those more or less distinguished composers who contributed to

the store of chamber music about this time, may be named Geminiani

(1680-1762), Tartini (1692-1770), Giardini (1716-96), Pugnani

(1731-98), and Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-88), a son of John Sebastian.

These lead up to, among others, Dittersdorf (1739-99), Boccherini

(1743-1805), and Haydn (1732-1809), whose first String Quartett was

published in 1755.

[Sidenote: =Great Violin Makers=]

It may not, however, be overlooked that the influence of the

great violin makers, the families Amati, Guarneri, and Stradivari

(1535-1745), contributed not a little to the advancement of chamber

music, for these men were no mere artisans engaged in the manufacture

of instruments from a commercial point of view. Rather were they true

artists, and the product of their labours furnished both performers and

composers the highest means of artistic expression. During the period

in which they worked, the old viol was gradually changed into the

violin, viola, and ’cello of our time, a change which has had a most

important and far-reaching effect on the entire art of music.

[Sidenote: =Haydn and Mozart=]

[Sidenote: =Corelli and the Compass of the Violin=]

With Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) we enter a new era, for before the time

of this master and of Mozart, says a high authority,[5] “such a form

(the string quartett) hardly existed, and their work with it was such

as almost to complete its artistic maturity in the course of one

generation.” The same writer also states that prior to the time of

these two great masters “the pleasure of the player was more studied

than that of the auditor,” by composers of chamber music. In this

connection, technically considered, it is interesting to note that

Corelli, who has already been mentioned as a distinguished performer

on the violin as well as a composer, regarded the note D [Music] as

the upward limit of the violin’s compass, and he refused to entertain,

on the ground that it was impossible, any passage written higher than

this note.[6] Yet in Haydn’s Quartett op. 76, No. 5, which was written

not so very long after the time referred to, there is a violin passage

that reaches the note F♯ one octave and two notes higher than Corelli’s

limit; also in the finale of the same composer’s Quartett op. 77, No.

2, a passage reaching an octave higher, and in other of his quartetts,

the adjacent high notes C and B♭ are frequently written. Thus we see

that along with the growth of musical ideas there was a corresponding

expansion of technical means.

[Footnote 5: Sir Hubert Parry, _Summary of Musical History_, p.

54.]

[Footnote 6: Macfarren, article “Music,” _Encyclopædia

Britannica_.]

[Sidenote: =William Shield and 5/4 Time=]

As regards the music of this particular period, even in features which

are generally supposed to belong exclusively to modern music, it is

interesting to find that the older composers have really set the

pattern. For example, the popular idea is that the 5/4 movement in

Tschaïkovsky’s Pathetique Symphony is a rhythmic novelty. Yet in a set

of six chamber trios published in 1790 by William Shield (1748-1829),

Musician-in-Ordinary to his Majesty, may be found such a movement, and

this is all the more curious seeing that it is marked “Alla Sclavonia,”

thereby betokening some connection between Russian music and this

unusual kind of time. Shield was a prolific writer of works both

practical and theoretic. Some forty, now forgotten, operas are credited

to him, but his songs remain among the best which England has produced,

such for instance as “The Wolf,” “Old Towler,” “Arethusa,” and “The

Thorn.”

We quote a portion of the String Trio which has been mentioned:—

[Music: _Giuoco: Alla sclavonia tempo straniere con

variazione._]

The 2nd variation has a syncopated figure in the first violin part.

The 3rd variation gives the solo part to the violoncello, and this

leads to a coda concluding the movement with a repetition of the

original theme.

CHAPTER II.

CHAMBER MUSIC INSTITUTIONS AND CONCERTS.

John Banister’s concerts—Thomas Britton, the musical

coalman—Britton’s concerts—“Music Meetings”—Oxford

Music School—_Pepys’s Diary_—_Evelyn’s

Diary_—Frederick the Great—Bach and the Emperor—The

Emperor Frederick’s compositions—Dando concerts—John

Ella and The Musical Union—Analytical programmes and

position of platform—Quartett Association—Dannreuther’s

Musical Evenings—Sir Charles Hallé’s recitals—Monday

Popular Concerts—Joachim—Various chamber music

institutions—Japanese chamber music.

With the general advancement which we thus see had taken place in

instrumental music, there naturally arose a desire for its performance,

and this led to the establishment of Concerts, both private and public.

[Sidenote: =John Banister’s Concerts=]

Burney in his _History of Music_ tells us that upon the decease

of Baltzar the Lubecker, who was the first leader of King Charles the

Second’s new Band of Twenty-four Violins, John Banister (1630-79), the

first Englishman who seems to have distinguished himself on the violin,

succeeded him. This musician was one of the first who established

lucrative concerts in London. These were advertised in the _London

Gazette_, and in No. 742, for December 30th, 1672, there is the

following advertisement:—“These are to give notice that at Mr. John

Banister’s house, now called the Music School, over against the George

Taverne in White Fryers, this present Monday will be music performed

by excellent masters, beginning precisely at four of the clock in the

afternoon, and every afternoon for the future, precisely at the same

hour.”

There are a number of such advertisements, and in the _Gazette_

of December 11th, 1676, Banister’s performance is announced to be held

at the Academy in Little Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where it was to begin

“with a parley of instruments composed by Mr. Banister, and performed

by eminent masters.”

In Mr. North’s _Memoirs of Music_ we have a more minute account

of these performances:—“Banister having procured a large room in White

Fryers near the Temple Back Gate, and erected an elevated box or

gallery for the musicians, whose modesty required curtains, the rest

of the room was fitted with seats and small tables, alehouse fashion.

One shilling, which was the price of admission, entitled the audience

to call for what they pleased! There was very good music, for Banister

found means to procure the best hands in London, and some voices, to

assist him, and there wanted no variety, for Banister, besides playing

on the violin, did wonders on the flageolet to a thro’ base, and

several other masters likewise played solos.”

Banister had his first lessons from his father, who was one of the

waits in the parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields. He left behind him a

son, John, who became an excellent performer on the violin, and was one

of King William’s band, and also played first violin at Drury Lane when

operas were first performed there.

[Sidenote: =Thomas Britton, the Musical Coalman=]

In 1678, a year before the decease of the elder Banister, a club for

the practice of chamber music, established by Thomas Britton, the

celebrated small-coal man, had its beginning, and continued until 1714.

Britton[7] (1651-1714) was born in Northamptonshire, and apprenticed to

a London coal-dealer; he afterwards carried on business in Aylesbury

Street, at the corner of Jerusalem Passage, Clerkenwell, as a small

coal (probably charcoal) dealer. He seems to have been a man of

progressive mind, and to have cultivated an extensive knowledge of many

subjects, including both theoretical and practical music. His learning

indeed seems to have led to his being regarded with suspicion on the

part of certain narrow-minded and superstitious people, who attributed

to him even so strange a mixture as atheism, Jesuitry, and magic.

[Footnote 7: Rimbault, _Dictionary of Music and Musicians_

(Grove).]

[Illustration:

MVSICA MORTALES DIVOSQVE OBLECTAT ET ORNAT.

A GROUP OF MUSICIANS.]

There does not, however, seem to be any foundation for the imputations

which were made against him, for he appears to have been a sincere,

plain man, but endowed with fine natural tastes, which raised him so

far above his class that he had to pay the usual penalty for such

superiority.

[Sidenote: =Britton’s Concerts=]

As a result of his study of music he established the club to which

reference has been made. Here weekly concerts were held in a large

room over his place of business in Clerkenwell, and these became

exceedingly fashionable. The performers were drawn from among the most

distinguished musicians, professional and amateur, such as Pepusch,

Wollaston (the painter), John Banister, John Hughes (the poet), and

Abel Whichello. It is also said that Handel frequently played the

harpsichord, but the records do not entirely agree on this point. These

concerts, which seem to have been due to Britton’s personal influence,

together with the mutual love for bibliographical and other studies

held by many of his audience, were at first free, but afterwards a

subscription was levied. There appears to be no doubt that many learned

and titled people, such as the Earls of Oxford, Pembroke, Winchelsea,

and Sunderland, were subscribers, and that they fully appreciated and

acknowledged the high conversational powers and book learning of the

musical small-coal man.

Britton’s books were sold after his death, and the catalogue was issued

as “The Library of Mr. Thomas Britton, small-coal man, deceased, who

at his own charge kept up a consort of musick above forty years in

his little cottage. Being a curious collection of Books in Divinity,

History, Physick, and Chimistry, in all volumes.”

His portrait by J. Wollaston, who was one of his supporters, hangs in

the National Portrait Gallery in London. So recently as 1892 concerts

called the Britton Concerts were given in his memory at the Hampden

Club, Phœnix Street, St. Pancras, London.[8]

[Footnote 8: _British Musical Biography_, p. 62.]

[Sidenote: =“Music Meetings”=]

About the year 1680 the principal music-masters in London, perceiving

an eagerness in the public for musical performances, caused a room to

be erected in York Buildings and purposely fitted up for concerts,

where the best compositions and performers of the time were to be

heard. This was called the “music meeting,” and this room was for a

long time the place where the lovers of music assembled at the benefit

concerts of the most eminent professors of the art.

[Sidenote: =Oxford Music School=]

As regards the provinces, in 1665 a music school was founded at Oxford

by the members of the old Oxford meetings which were suppressed during

the Rebellion. Anthony Wood speaks of these meetings when King Charles

was driven to Oxford. This new (1665) school, it is quaintly recorded,

was furnished “with a number of instruments, including an organ of four

stopps, and seven desks to lay the books on, at two shillings each.”

Subscription concerts were given, and these Oxford gatherings were

the first of which any account is to be met with, indeed they seem to

have been the only association of the kind in the kingdom. (Hawkins,

_History of Music_.)

For the common and ordinary people there were entertainments suited to

their notions of music; these consisted of concerts in unison, as they

were called, of fiddles, hautboys, trumpets, etc., performed in booths

at fairs held in and about London, but more frequently in certain

places called music-houses, of which there were many in the time of

King Charles II.

Among the first of this kind was one known by the sign of the Mitre

near the west end of St. Paul’s Cathedral. This was about the year

1664. The name of the master of this house was Robert Hubert,

_alias_ Forges, who besides being a musician was a collector of

natural curiosities.

Another well-known place of this kind was in Stepney, where there was

an organ and a band of fiddles and hautboys, and here at times dancing

was allowed.

[Sidenote: =Pepys’s Diary=]

As quaintly casting light on the musical condition of things during

this period, the following extracts from _Pepys’s Diary_ may be

given:—

“Oct. 1, 1667. To White Hall: and there in the Boarded Gallery

did hear the musick with which the King is presented this night by

Monsieur Grebus, the master of His musick; both instrumental (I think

twenty-four viols.) and vocall; an English song upon Peace. But God

forgive me! I never was so little pleased with a concert of musick in

my life. The manner of setting words and repeating them out of order

and that with a number of voices, makes me sick, the whole design of

vocall musick being lost by it. Here was a great press of people, but I

did not see many pleased with it, only the instrumental musick he had

brought by practice to play very just.”

“Febry. 27, 1668. With my wife to the King’s House to see _The Virgin

Martyr_, the first time it hath been acted a great while; and it

is mighty pleasant; not that the play is worth much, but it is freely

acted by Beck Marshall. But that which did please me beyond anything in

the whole world was the wind-musique when the angel comes down; which

is so sweet that it ravished me and indeed, in a word, did wrap up my

soul so that it made me really sick, just as I have been formerly when

in love with my wife; that neither then nor all the evening going home

and at home I was able to think of anything, but remained all night

transported, so as I could not believe that ever any musique hath that

real command over the soul of a man as this did upon me; and makes me

resolve to practice wind-musique, and to make my wife do the like.”

[Sidenote: =Evelyn’s Diary=]

In _Evelyn’s Diary_ of November 20th, 1679, we find the

following:—“I dined with Mr. Slingsby, Master of the Mint, with my wife

invited to hear musick which was exquisitely performed by foure of

the most-renown’d masters: Du Prue, a Frenchman, on the Lute; Signor

Bartholomeo, an Italian, on the Harpsichord; Nicolao, on the violin;

but above all for its sweetnesse and novelty, the Viol d’amore of

five wyre strings plaied on with a bow, being but an ordinary violin

played on, lyre-way, by a German. There was also a Flute-douce, now in

much request for accompanying the voice. Mr. Slingsby, whose sonn and

daughter play’d skilfully, had these meetings frequently in his house.”

In Hawkins’s _History_ under the date November 23rd, 1685, we

find a copy of an advertisement of the publication of several sonatas

“composed after the Italian way, for one and for two Bass Viols with

a thorough Bass, by Mr. August Keenell,” and of their being performed

at the Dancing School, Walbrook. Also at the school in York Buildings,

some performances on an instrument called the Baritone by the same

Mr. Keenell. Again on January 25th, 1693, it is stated that “at the

Concert room in York Buildings will be performed Mr. Purcell’s Song

composed for St. Cecilia’s day in the year 1692, together with some

other compositions of his, both instrumental and vocal, for the

Entertainment of His Highness Prince Lewis of Baden.”

Other institutions such as the Academy of Ancient Music, established in

1710, The Anacreontic Society (about 1770), the Ancient Concerts (about

1776) did much for the cultivation of good music, but they were not

specially concerned with chamber music.

Of foreign doings, Hawkins relates that in 1598 “upon the arrival of

Margaret Queen of Austria at Ferrara to celebrate a double marriage,

between herself and Philip III. of Spain, and between Archduke Albert

and the Infanta Isabella, the King’s sister, at the monastery of St.

Vite the nuns performed a concert in which were heard Lutes, Double

Harps, Viols, and other kinds of instruments.” Also in an Italian

work of this period called _Il Desiderio_ there occurs a long

dialogue on the concerts which were then the entertainment of persons

of the first rank in the principal cities of Italy, particularly Venice

and Ferrara. The Accademia degli Filarmonica, an important Italian

institution, was begun at Vicenza, exactly when is not now known, but

certainly before 1565, for in that year the Accademia degli Incantenati

was incorporated with it. To this “the nobility and gentry were used

to resort once a week to entertain themselves with music.”

[Sidenote: =Frederick the Great=]

Brahms is reported to have said, “Be careful how you speak of the music

of princes. One never knows who may have written it.” But even with

this note of warning in mind, the story of the Emperor Frederick the

Great of Prussia can hardly be passed over, seeing how influential

must have been the support which he accorded to the art and to his

musicians—Quantz, who composed so many works for the flute (the

Emperor’s beloved instrument); C.H. Graun, the conductor; J.G. Graun,

the violinist; and especially Philipp Emanuel Bach, a son of the great

John Sebastian. The Emperor was accustomed to spend some £7000 a year

on his Court music, which shows that it was an affair of considerable

importance.

[Sidenote: =Bach and the Emperor=]

A pleasant and interesting account is recorded of the meeting of J.S.

Bach with the Emperor. It was on a Sunday evening in the spring of

1747, as the Emperor was about to open his concert with a flute solo,

the stranger’s list was brought to him. Having read it, flute in hand,

he turned to the band and said excitedly, “Gentlemen, old Bach is

come.” The flute was laid aside, and Bach was sent for at once, no time

being allowed him even to change his travelling dress. The elaborately

formal greetings over, Bach was invited to try the numerous Silbermann

pianos distributed through the palace, the band following from room to

room as he tried each instrument. Frederick expressed a desire to hear

a six-part fugue, which Bach then improvised with the utmost skill on

a theme given to him by the King. Next day, wishing to hear him on his

more congenial instrument, the King escorted Bach to all the organs in

Potsdam.

One outcome of this visit was the so-called “Musical Offering” which

Bach wrote on his return to Leipzig. It consists of an elaborate

working out of the royal theme named above, and the work is dedicated

to the Emperor.[9]

[Footnote 9: _Monthly Musical Record_, June 1902; article by C.

Struthers.]

It is said that the Emperor’s chamber concerts were dominated by

himself and his flute, for virtually the only music performed was

that of Frederick himself and his master, Quantz. Artistically there

does not seem much to commend in this, and indeed, if accurately

recorded, it raises serious doubts of the Emperor’s musicianship. But

nevertheless the compositions which this remarkable man left behind him

are of a kind to make one pause before accepting such a view of the

matter, for at the command of the present German Emperor, and under

the editorship of such eminent musical authorities as Spitta, Count

Waldersee, and Barge, four volumes of these compositions have been

published. They consist of twenty-five sonatas for flute and piano, and

four concertos for flute and stringed orchestra.

[Sidenote: =The Emperor Frederick’s Compositions=]

“An examination of the King’s musical MSS., made at the instance of

the Minister of Education, has shown that the compositions, written

entirely by the King himself, are not only of historical interest, but

exhibit command of artistic form and talent for musical invention; a

healthy musical life breathes through them; the slow pieces frequently

surprise us by their beautiful melodies full of warm feeling, and

by their brilliant passages. Such fervour inspires them that the

publication of these noble works, which solaced the monarch amid the

troubles of his country and in his old age, in the loneliness of his

high office, will present the personality of the great King in a new

and important aspect. The notion that Frederick merely sought an

agreeable pastime in flute-playing will be removed by this edition

of his works; his admirers will learn to see in old Fritz a creative

musician of deep feeling and noble simplicity.”[10]

[Footnote 10: Preface to _Musical Works of Frederick the Great_.

Breitkopf and Härtel.]

The following fragment, which is quoted from the slow movement (Grave)

of the Emperor’s Third Concerto, will show better than any mere

description the quality of his music, which certainly warrants the

expressions given below from Professor Spitta’s preface to the edition

referred to above:—

[Music: FROM THE 3RD CONCERTO FOR FLUTE AND STRINGS.

FREDERICK THE GREAT.]

“The form of the music is no doubt like that of his master Quantz,

unoriginal and stereotyped, but his specialty lies in the simple

musical thoughts, which flow freely and easily from him, as the natural

adequate expression of inward emotions. Frederick’s musical personality

is most clearly delineated in his Adagios. These compositions furnish

the proof of the story that he often moved his hearers to tears by his

adagio playing. They reveal a surprising tenderness of feeling, a soul

which seeks its satisfaction in the sweet melancholy and tender, almost

feminine, yet never effeminate plaintiveness. The lovely Siciliani of

Sonatas 3, 16, and 25 charm like Watteau pictures, with their graceful

figures and delicate colour harmony, at the same time not lacking

German depth of feeling. More serious, darker feelings rise up in the

Grave of the Third Concerto.... Certain it is, and remains, that his

music affords the hearer deep insight into a unique soul-life, and for

this reason alone its publication would be justified.”

[Sidenote: =Dando Concerts=]

In the year 1836 a series of Quartett Concerts were organised by

Joseph Dando, a London violin professor. These concerts, which were

continued until 1842, were held in the Hanover Square Rooms, and the

artists associated with Dando were Henry Blagrove, Henry Gattie, and

Charles Lucas. Dando is said to have been the first to introduce public

performances consisting altogether of instrumental quartetts in London.

[Sidenote: =John Ella and The Musical Union=]

In 1845 a series of Morning Concerts for chamber music, under the

title of “The Musical Union,” were commenced in London by John Ella

(1802-88), a Yorkshireman, who, originally intended for the legal

profession, became a violinist, and established himself in the

metropolis. These concerts continued for some thirty-three years.

In the year 1850 Ella also started another series under the title

of “Musical Winter Evenings,” and they went on until 1859. At these

concerts the best chamber music was performed by the leading artists,

both English and foreign.

[Sidenote: =Analytical Programmes and Position of Platform=]

The Musical Union is said to have had its origin in chamber music

meetings which were held at Mr. Ella’s residence in London, and it

would be difficult to over-estimate the important influence which

its doings have had on the taste for high-class music of this kind

in England. To Mr. Ella is also due the introduction of analytical

Programmes, which were unknown before. These were sent to the

subscribers some days before the concerts, thus enabling all earnest

students to acquaint themselves with the various points of interest in

the works to be performed.

Another feature which is worthy of notice was that the Platform for the

performers was placed in the centre of the concert hall (St. James’s

Hall, Regent Street). It was a little raised from the floor, and the

listeners sat in a circle around it. This custom has been recently

(1901-2) revived at the concerts given by the Joachim Quartett, with,

however, the somewhat serious difference that the platform is much too

high, and this interferes with the comfort of those who are seated near

to it. At the Musical Union Concerts of Mr. Ella the platform was much

lower, and this worked well.

[Sidenote: =Quartett Association=]

Another effort for the spread of a knowledge of chamber music was

started in London in the year 1852 by Messrs. Sainton, Cooper, Hill,

and Piatti. It was called the Quartett Association. Six concerts each

season were given, at which the most eminent artists performed. These

were held at Willis’s Rooms, but after the third season they were

abandoned for want of sufficient public support.

[Sidenote: =Dannreuther’s Musical Evenings=]

Among a number of other attempts of a like kind may be mentioned Mr.

Edward Dannreuther’s Musical Evenings, which upheld a high ideal, for

it is well known that Mr. Dannreuther, while an earnest apostle of the

new school of music, is no less zealous for the old, as the range of

the programmes which he set forth at these concerts, and his masterly

interpretations of Bach and Beethoven, abundantly prove.

[Sidenote: =Sir Charles Hallé’s Recitals=]

The late Sir Charles Hallé (then Mr. Hallé) began in 1861 his

celebrated Chamber Music Recitals, the first eight concerts being taken

up with a presentation of the whole of the Piano Sonatas of Beethoven.

There can be no doubt that these recitals, along with Hallé’s musical

work in other directions, have had a most beneficial effect on our

national taste.

[Sidenote: =Monday Popular Concerts=]

No account of British chamber music would be complete without a notice

of the Monday Popular Concerts which were commenced in London in 1859.

The first concerts were of a miscellaneous character, consisting of

old ballads and well-known instrumental pieces. They had, however, but

moderate success. The director, Mr. Arthur Chappell, in conference with

Mr. J.W. Davison, the musical critic of _The Times_ newspaper,

then decided to try a series of good chamber music concerts. The first

of these was announced as a Mendelssohn Night, and was, of course, made

up entirely of chamber music by that composer; and afterwards a Mozart,

Haydn, Weber, and a Beethoven night were severally tried. Still success

did not follow, and the concerts were very nearly abandoned. Chiefly,

however, owing to the determination of Mr. Chappell, a further series

were tried, and as these produced a financial profit, the venture was

continued, with the result that the concerts eventually became firmly

established as the leading chamber music institution in England.

“The One-hundredth Popular Concert,” says Mr. Hueffer,[11] “was given

on July 7th, 1862, when, according to _The Times_, more than

one thousand persons were refused admission for the want of space—a

statement in itself sufficient to show the broad popular basis on

which the concerts were by that time founded. In 1865 the Saturday

Afternoon Concerts were added to those given on Monday evenings,

and on May 15th of the same year one of the most important events

in the history of this institution—the first appearance of Madame

Schumann—took place. The programme on that occasion was devoted

entirely to the works of her husband, which, in those days, were

thought by the public and the press to be the abstruse effusions of the

modern spirit, but which are now as generally, and almost as highly

appreciated as those of Beethoven himself. Five years later, in 1870,

Madame Norman-Neruda was added to the list of executants, and has

remained one of the prime favourites of these and English audiences

generally, ever since. In the season of 1873-74 more than common

attention was paid to contemporary talent, the names of Saint-Saëns,

Rubinstein, Rheinberger, Raff, and other then living composers playing

a prominent part. The cause of this inroad upon established tradition

is partly to be found in the appearance at the piano of Dr. Hans von

Bülow, who, here as everywhere else, exercised a beneficial, but, so

far as the popular concerts were concerned, a passing influence. There

are few names of eminence absent from the list of executants who have

appeared on and off. The one-thousandth performance was given on April

4th, 1888.”

[Footnote 11: _Half a Century of Music in England_, p. 17.]

[Illustration: Chopin [signature]]

[Sidenote: =Joachim=]

Among the other artists who constantly played at the “Monday Pops.”

were Piatti, who for very many years occupied the position of leading

’cellist, and his brother-artist of world-wide repute, Dr. Joseph

Joachim, the violinist. Although Joachim’s connection with the art

of music is by no means limited to any one branch, yet it is in the

realm of chamber music that we have chiefly felt his strong influence

in Great Britain, and as an upholder of a high and pure standard of

musical taste he obtains without doubt the grateful adhesion of all

the serious musicians of our land. Were it for no other reason than

his steadfast advocacy of the high claims of the works of Johannes

Brahms, and for his presentation, under those conditions of a faultless

rendering which they imperiously demand, of the later Quartetts of

Beethoven, we, and the entire musical world, owe him a deep debt of

gratitude.

[Illustration: THE JOACHIM QUARTETT.

JOACHIM. HAUSMANN. WIRTH. HALIR.]

Of course it is obvious that to call these concerts Monday

_Popular_ Concerts was, at the commencement, almost a jocose

perversion of the facts, seeing that they were so badly attended;

yet, as some one afterwards said, “Mr. Chappell (when the concerts

at first proved unpopular) took a bolder course than to alter his

title; he altered the public taste instead,” and thus the name became

an entirely appropriate one. That these concerts should, during recent

years, have declined in public interest is a matter for regret, but no

doubt a variety of causes has contributed to this result. Among these

must be reckoned the competition of orchestral performances, for which

there has grown up a strong public taste; the neglect in the Monday

Popular programmes of the newer and novel compositions; and the death

or absence of some of the most distinguished chamber music performers.

At the same time it is hardly to be believed that chamber music

concerts will be allowed to die out, and there is indeed already strong

evidence of a revival in this direction in London, which shows that

this, the purest form of abstract music, is still held in high esteem

amongst us.

[Sidenote: =Various Chamber Music Institutions=]

Other British chamber music institutions which should be mentioned

are the Cambridge University Musical Society (1843), the Cambridge

University Musical Club (1871), the Oxford University Musical Union

(1884), the People’s Concert Society (1878), the concerts at South

Place, Finsbury, where reigns a specially eclectic taste, and good

annotated programmes are provided; and the flourishing Oxford and

Cambridge Universities Musical Club, established, largely by the

untiring efforts of Dr. Horace Abel, during the year 1900 in the

old Sir Joshua Reynolds’s House, Leicester Square, London; also the

Schulz-Curtius Concerts.

During the season 1902-3 a new series of important chamber music

concerts were inaugurated by Messrs. J. Broadwood & Sons, the

well-known pianoforte makers, at St. James’s Hall, London. The

original prospectus announced the following artistes, most of whom

have appeared:—The Bohemian Quartett, the London Trio (Miss Amina

Goodwin, Messrs. Simonetti and Whitehouse), the Wessely Quartett, Mr.

Clinton’s Wind Instrument Quartett (Messrs. G.A. Clinton, W.M. Malsch,

A. Borsdorf, and T. Wotton), the Grimson Quartett, the Brodsky Quartett

(Messrs. Adolph Brodsky, R. Briggs, S. Speelman, and C. Fuchs), and

the Gompertz Quartett (Messrs. Rd. Gompertz, C. Jacoby, E. Kreuz, and

J. Renard). The Kneisel (American) Quartett and the Moscow Trio have

also recently been heard at these concerts. Messrs. Broadwood have

also organised another series of chamber music concerts in the city of

Manchester.

The direction of the Monday Popular Concerts has also been undertaken

by Professor Johann Kruse, who was well known as a member of Dr.

Joachim’s Berlin Quartett. The Joachim Chamber Concerts will also

be continued, the artists, as before, being Messrs. Joachim, Halir,

Wirth, and Hausmann. Mr. Willy Hess’s Quartett, the Newland Smith Trio,

Messrs. Metzler’s concerts, the Mozart Society’s concerts, and those of

Mr. Donald Tovey (which are of high importance), are among the Chamber

Music Institutions that have recently come into notice.

In many of our provincial towns and cities, too, societies for the

cultivation of chamber music are, in a quiet way, doing excellent work.

These are too numerous to set forth in detail; but, as exemplifying

the good influence which it, like many such institutions in other

places, has for a long time exerted, the Chamber Music Society of

Newcastle-on-Tyne may be mentioned. This Society a while ago set an

example, which might well be followed by others, in commissioning our

English composer, Villiers Stanford, to write a string Quartett (op.

44 in G major), which was performed at one of the Society’s concerts

shortly after it appeared.

[Sidenote: =Japanese Chamber Music=]

It has been stated by a writer,[12] who, by the way, is not afraid

boldly to declare the truth “that the amateur is the backbone of a

nation’s music”—that a Chamber Music Society has been founded through

the influence of an English amateur at Tokio, in Japan. He tells us

that the violinist who leads at these concerts has been engaged by

the Japanese Government to teach at the Tokio Conservatoire, and that

he has already turned out some excellent Japanese pupils, at any rate

so far as technique is concerned, one girl especially having become a

really good viola player.

[Footnote 12: W.W. Cobbett, _Musical News_, May 24, 1902.]

CHAPTER III.

HAYDN, P.E. BACH, DITTERSDORF, HANDEL.

J.S. Bach—Joseph Haydn—Philipp E. Bach—Dittersdorf—Early

quartetts of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven—Silence as

an effect in music—Haydn’s quartetts—Haydn’s Kaiser

Quartett—Haydn’s other chamber music—Handel.

Haydn (1732-1809) has been called the “Father of the Symphony,” and by

some the origin of the Quartett (meaning, of course, that for strings)

has been ascribed to him.

How far this is accurate can only be determined by an examination of

what was being done by others about the same time; but it may be safely

said that, in the absolute sense, no enduring art form has been the

creation of one man. There has always been a growth, although it is no

doubt true that at a certain stage of the process some one with genius

has, as it were, put the top stone on the edifice. Robert Schumann,

writing on this topic, uses the following characteristic words:—“The

world is large. Be modest! You have not yet discovered and contrived

what others before you have not already imagined and found out;” the

meaning of which doubtless is that of absolute originality there is

very little at any time, and what stands in its place (and this will

seem more or less according to our knowledge or ignorance of what has

already been done) is really the fruition of many past influences, plus

the genius of the man who assimilates and gives them fresh shape.

[Sidenote: =J.S. Bach=]

John Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) was probably the most original genius

the art of music has known, but it would be idle to deny that he was

deeply indebted to his predecessors, Frescobaldi, Buxtehude, Klemme,

and Pachelbel.

Take, for example, the history of what now goes under the name of

Programme Music. What Liszt aimed at in his Symphonic Poems, and what

Richard Strauss’s remarkable creations—“Don Juan,” “Till Eulenspiegel,”

“Ein Heldenleben,” and the rest, attempt to express, was already in the

minds of composers a very long while ago.

Mr. Corder, in his article on this subject in Grove’s

_Dictionary_, states that W. Byrd (1560) wrote a battle-piece for

Virginals, and John Mundy, another English composer of that period,

published a so-called “Fantasia on the Weather,” professing to depict

fair weather, lightning, thunder, etc. Krieger (1667) gives us a

four-part vocal fugue entirely made up of an imitation of the mewing

of cats! There is also the fairly well-known Cat’s Fugue by Domenico

Scarlatti, suggested of course by his cat accidentally walking over

the keys of his harpsichord. Bach, Handel, Haydn, and Beethoven are

also among the great ones whose works occasionally tended in a like

direction.

It is the same with any other distinctive feature in music, and

therefore, while undoubtedly Haydn did very much for its expansion,

the truth is that the form of the String Quartett was a gradual

development, and not the creation of any single mind.

As to the vitality of the music of different composers, which is

another matter, Boccherini, a contemporary of Haydn, wrote more

quartetts than that master, and they were highly esteemed during his

life-time; but, save the musical student, who knows or plays them

to-day?

[Sidenote: =Joseph Haydn=]

Haydn is known to have studied, early in life, the works of Philipp

Emanuel Bach (1714-88), and there can be little doubt that he was

thereby strongly influenced. Beethoven is said to have been quite

familiar with the greater (John Sebastian) Bach’s compositions, even as

a child, and an argument has been based on this that Haydn’s artistic

position would to-day have been different had he, too, studied the

greater and not the lesser Bach.

[Sidenote: =Philipp E. Bach=]

The following extracts from a String Quartett by this composer, P.E.

Bach, which was found in the Library of the Thomas-Schule in Leipzig,

will convey, perhaps better than any mere words, an idea of the style

in which he wrote, and we will thereby see what it was that influenced

Haydn.

The Finale Presto may specially be noted, presenting as it does

features remarkably like many such movements in Haydn’s Quartetts.

[Music: FROM THE 1ST MOVEMENT OF A STRING QUARTETT BY PHILIPP

EMANUEL BACH.]

The first movement of this work, which has also been called a Sinfonia,

is connected with the second by modulation.

[Music: 2ND MOVEMENT.

(The commencement.)]

[Music: (The last 10 bars, leading to the _Presto_.)]

The orchestral tendencies of this work and its symphonic feeling

are, of course, quite evident; but Dr. Hugo Riemann, in his recently

published edition, entitles it a String Quartett.

[Music: 3RD MOVEMENT.]

[Sidenote: =Dittersdorf=]

Dittersdorf (1739-99) is another chamber music composer of this period.

His name is little known in England, but during his life-time he was

regarded as a rival of Haydn, and although the verdict of time is

against him, yet his compositions go far to justify the popular feeling

in his favour. An opera of his, _The Doctor and the Apothecary_,

still holds the stage in Germany, and his String Quartetts are yet

occasionally heard. His twelve Orchestral Symphonies (most of them

written to a programme), oratorios, and some twenty to thirty other

operas are, however, now practically dead. The scores of six of his

Quartetts, which are published in the Payne miniature edition, are

worthy of attention, especially that in E♭, from which the following

quotations are made. Special attention may be directed to the minuet,

which is followed by a trio or alternativo of a very charming and

dainty character. The lively finale too reminds one of Haydn, and

the effect of silence, which is mentioned elsewhere, is introduced

in several places in this movement. While, however, the music is

spontaneous and sincere in feeling, the absence of strong ideas and of

contrapuntal skill soon shows itself, and the effect tends to become

insipid.

[Music: FROM A STRING QUARTETT BY CARL DITTERS VON

DITTERSDORF.]

A noteworthy feature in the development portion of this movement is a

sudden but effective modulation from E♭ to C major.

[Music: MINUETTO.

Leading into the Alternativo.]

[Music: ALTERNATIVO.]

Some editions of this quartett have three bars of the note G for the

’cello, after the double bar, instead of two, as here printed.

[Music]

[Music: FINALE.]

[Sidenote: =Early Quartetts of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven=]

Haydn wrote his first String Quartett about the year 1755. Mozart’s

first appeared fifteen years later, in 1770. That of Beethoven (No.

1 in F, op. 18) in 1800; so that a period of about forty-five years

includes all three. A comparison of the three works can therefore

hardly fail to be of interest. Haydn’s consists of five movements—viz.,

presto, minuet and trio, adagio, another minuet and trio, and

presto. All the movements are in the key of B♭, except the adagio,

which is in E♭. They are short and undeveloped, and there is little

extraneous modulation. The music is fresh and spontaneous, but simple

and of little importance—indeed, as compared with many of his other

seventy-six Quartetts, it is trivial.

Mozart’s work is in G major. It has four movements—viz., adagio,

allegro, minuet and trio, and rondo. Originally it had only three

movements, the rondo being added later. All are, in accordance with

the custom which prevailed up to about this time, in one key. The

general character of the composition is stronger than that of Haydn,

there is more counterpoint and independence in the parts, but not much

modulation. It is an interesting, but by no means great work.

[Sidenote: =Silence as an Effect in Music=]

Beethoven’s is the well-known No. 1, op. 18, and has four

movements—viz., allegro, adagio, scherzo and trio, and allegro. The

introduction of the scherzo form will be observed here. Humour and jest

had no doubt been attempted before in music, but Beethoven made much

more use of it than his predecessors, and in some of his works, notably

the Fifth and Ninth Symphonies, employed it in a remarkable manner.

In the C minor, the grim humour, with the strange touch of mysticism

which occurs near to where the scherzo blends into the finale, are

among the very great effects which Beethoven has left for us. All the

movements of the quartett are in the key of F, save the adagio, which

is in D minor. Both as to contrapuntal skill, modulation, individual

use of each instrument, especially of the viola, and above all in

poetic feeling, this work shows a great advance on the two of Haydn

and Mozart. Beethoven no doubt had the great advantage of what Haydn

and Mozart had already written, but for all this the gap between this

first Quartett and theirs is remarkable. Unquestionably the best of

Haydn’s and Mozart’s Quartetts are works of the highest genius, but in

Beethoven the restraint of conventional form is less felt, and there is

a richer and fuller poetic expression. Nor has Beethoven overlooked (we

find it in bars 59 to 62 of the adagio) the use of a certain negative

means which as a factor in musical expression is of great importance.

Just as it is well not to write continually in full four-part harmony,

but to relieve what is apt to become monotonous, by reducing the score

to three, two, or even at times one instrument, so the introduction of

absolute silence may occasionally produce an excellent effect. Handel

recognised this, and we find examples in “He rebuked the Red Sea”

(_Israel in Egypt_), “Wretched Lovers” (_Acis and Galatea_),

and at the close of the Amen Chorus (_Messiah_). Brahms makes use

of the device in the allegretto of his Second Symphony, as does another

master, Wagner, at the close of the prelude, Act 2 of _Parsifal_.

The scherzo of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony also contains several

examples, and Sir C. Villiers Stanford in the andante of his String

Quartett, op. 45, produces a strikingly artistic effect, where after a

full bar’s silence, the viola enters alone on a note unrelated to the

previous tonality. Of course the use of a means of this kind obviously

depends upon the character and feeling of the music, and its absence

in no way implies imperfection, but it is curious to note that neither

Schumann, Mendelssohn, nor Brahms introduces it into any of their

String Quartetts.[13]

[Footnote 13: At the fifty-fifth bar of the finale of Brahms’s A minor

Quartett there is a hint of this kind of effect; also at the opening of

Schumann’s A major Quartett.]

[Illustration: Antonin Dvořák [signature]]

[Sidenote: =Haydn’s Quartetts=]

The bulk of Haydn’s Quartetts are so well known that any detailed

reference to them would be superfluous. Op. 33, No. 3, in C major; op.

74, No. 1, in the same key; and op. 77, No. 2, in F major, may however

be named as among the most interesting, and not perhaps so often played

as, say, the so-called “Kaiser,” op. 76, No. 3, the op. 64, No. 5, and

the op. 76, No. 1, which with some others are so justly held in high

esteem wherever this style of music is cultivated.

With regard to the slow movement of the “Kaiser,” a set of variations

on the Austrian National Anthem, which Haydn is said to have composed

because he envied the English their “God Save the King,” Mr. W.H.

Hadow, in his book _A Croatian Composer_ (which work may well

be read, containing as it does a report of some very interesting

investigations), gives a number of instances wherein the germ of

symphonic and other of Haydn’s musical themes are traceable to Croatian

folk-songs, and among them is this Austrian National Anthem. What

Handel did with the works of Steffani and others is pretty well known

by musicians, but this less known case is an equally interesting one.

[Sidenote: =Haydn’s Kaiser Quartett=]

Here is the familiar melody as it now stands in the Quartett (op. 76,

No. 3) referred to. The five versions of this melody which by the

praiseworthy investigations of Mr. Hadow are now brought to light

are quoted below. Each one presents the tune as it is found to-day

in a certain district of Croatia. It will, as Mr. Hadow points out,

be seen that in all these versions there is “apparent the same touch

of inspiration, and the same weakness of development.” Haydn took

advantage of the inspiration and dignified the tune by a continuation

worthy to make it take rank among the best national anthems of the

world.

[Music: FROM HAYDN’S KAISER QUARTETT, OP. 76, NO. 3.]

[Music: No. 1.]

[Music: No. 2.]

[Music: No. 3.]

These three are of course very much alike, but the next two

differ considerably from the others, and No. 5 has two bars

more than No. 4.

[Music: No. 4.]

[Music: No. 5.]

[Sidenote: =Haydn’s Other Chamber Music=]

Haydn’s compositions in the chamber music style embrace a large number

of pieces which are now forgotten. Many of these were probably written

to order for his patrons, and have little permanent value. Among them

are some 32 Trios for strings and other combinations, 2 for 2 flutes

and ’cello, 3 for piano, flute, and ’cello, and some 35 for piano,

violin, and ’cello. As regards the last-named, some of which are still

occasionally played, an examination of the twelve published in the

Peters Edition, which may be regarded as favourable specimens, shows

that many of them are hardly trios at all in the modern sense of that

word. The ’cello part, generally speaking, either doubles the actual

notes, or strengthens the harmony, of the left-hand piano part, and in

some movements (_e.g._ the slow movement of No. 1 in G major) has

not a single independent passage. There would, indeed, be little loss

of effect if the music were played by the piano and violin.

There is more interest and vitality in No. 6 in D major, but even in

this the continual doubling of the parts, and want of independence

between the instruments, becomes at last somewhat wearisome. It ought,

however, to be remembered that some of these Trios were published as

Sonatas for the piano with an accompaniment for violin and ’cello, and

that this kind of composition was common during the period of which

we speak. It has also been stated that Haydn wrote these Trios for a

wealthy and enthusiastic patron, who unfortunately was a poor ’cello

player, and hence that part was written in the simplest form.

Haydn also wrote about 175 works for an instrument called the baryton,

a kind of viol da gamba. They were written for Prince Esterhazy, who

played that instrument, but they are now practically forgotten. Some

unpublished MSS. of Haydn’s are to be found in the library of the

British Museum.[14] There are also, among his published works, four

Sonatas for violin and clavier, and six Duets for violin and viola, as

well as a number of other chamber music compositions, which, however,

have no great musical value.

[Footnote 14: _Dictionary of Music and Musicians_ (Grove), vol. i.

p. 713.]

[Sidenote: =Handel=]

The following is a list of the chief chamber music works of Handel

(1685-1759):—

15 Sonatas for violin, flute, or oboe, with harpsichord, or bass

violin.

6 Trio Sonatas for two oboes and harpsichord.

9 Trio Sonatas for two violins, flutes, or oboes, and harpsichord,

or violoncello.

7 Trio Sonatas for two violins, or German flutes, with harpsichord,

or violoncello.

1 Sonata in C major for viola da gamba, and cembalo.

1 Sonata in B♭ for two violins, bass, and organ.

3 Sonatas for flute and continuo.

The Sonata in A major for violin and piano (harpsichord) is of course

familiar, as are others of the fifteen named above. The Trios are also

of high interest, some of the slow movements being distinguished by

that fine pathos which is associated with the best work of the composer

of _The Messiah_. This music deserves more attention than has

hitherto been accorded to it.

CHAPTER IV.

MOZART.

Mozart’s C major Quartett—Mozart’s string quartetts—The

genius of Mozart—Mozart’s other chamber music—Wagner on

Mozart—Mozart’s letter to his father.

“I declare to you before God, as a man of honour, that your son is the

greatest composer that I know either personally or by reputation; he

has taste, and, beyond that, the most consummate knowledge of the art

of composition.”

[Sidenote: =Mozart’s C Major Quartett=]

Such are the remarkable words of Haydn, spoken to Mozart’s father. The

compositions played on the occasion when this was said were the String

Quartetts numbers 458, 464, and 465 of the Köchel Thematic Catalogue

of Mozart’s works, the last-named in C major, being that whose

introductory passage is said to have given much offence to the purists

of that time, on account of the following unusual harmony, which even

to-day sounds (like some of Bach’s) quite modern:—

[Music: MOZART.]

The celebrated Italian musician, Sarti, the master of Cherubini, said

of this passage, “Can more be done to put the players out of tune?” and

some, even of Mozart’s admirers, after his death, proposed to alter

and, as they considered it, rectify the passage. As regards Sarti,

there can be no doubt that his word carried great weight at that time,

and although his views may now be lightly regarded, Mozart evidently

had a high opinion of him, for, in a letter written from Vienna in June

1784, we find him writing, “To-morrow there is to be a concert at Herr

Players, at Döbling, in the country. Mdlle. Babette will play my new

Concerto, I shall play in the Quintett, and together we shall give the

Grand Sonata for two pianos. If the Maestro Sarti had not been obliged

to leave for Russia this very day, he would also have come with me.

Sarti is a fine fellow, an excellent fellow! I played a great deal with

him, and finished with some variations on an air of his own, which gave

him great pleasure.”

Mozart afterwards dedicated a set of String Quartetts, comprising that

cited above and other five, to Haydn, and they remain until now amongst

the most renowned works in this style.

Mozart (1756-91), who was, of course, contemporary with Haydn

(1732-1809), was by nature a musical genius of the very highest order,

but, all the same, he was only in a small degree a reformer, for he

was guided more by the spontaneous creative powers with which he

was naturally endowed than by any mere intellectual or philosophical

theorisings concerning art. The quotation from the Quartett given above

must, no doubt, have alarmed the average musician of that time, but

there is no reason to think that it was written in connection with any

scheme for the reform or expansion of musical resources, for Mozart’s

works display the utmost transparency of harmony and of style. No

doubt he occasionally produces remarkable effects by means of unusual

and sudden modulations (for example, the transition from G into E♭,

near the close of the finale of the G minor Piano Quartett), but, as

a general thing, his works do not furnish very many instances of this

kind.

[Illustration: Niels W. Gade [signature]]

His acceptance of unsatisfactory operatic libretti also points in the

same direction, and it has been jokingly said that he could have set

beautiful music even to newspaper advertisements.

Another theory is that, unlike Haydn, and in a degree Beethoven, he had

no wealthy patron who safeguarded him and his art, and that the want

of easier circumstances affected the quality of his work, as well as

shortened his life. In any case, it may be taken as certain that his

highly-strung organisation unfitted him for the hardships which fell to

his lot, and that the sympathy and protection of some one possessed of

worldly power and influence would, in his case, have been especially

valuable. It is impossible, for example, to read without indignation of

the manner in which he was treated by the Archbishop of Salzburg.

But apart from all this, there can be no doubt that his works are

a priceless treasure, for whose good influence humanity, past and

present, is deeply his debtor.

[Sidenote: =Mozart’s String Quartetts=]

Of String Quartetts Mozart wrote fewer in number by far than Haydn,

but none the less his work in this direction is such as to overshadow

that of Haydn. It has been well said that “next in importance after

his (Mozart’s) Symphonies come his Quartetts. In this form Haydn was

again the pioneer, but it fell to Mozart to produce the first really

great and perfect examples. This refined and delicate form of art had

come into prominence rather suddenly. It was cultivated with some

success by other composers besides Mozart and Haydn, such as Boccherini

and Dittersdorf. But the quartetts which Mozart produced in 1782, and

dedicated to Haydn, are still among the select few of highest value

in existence. In a form in which the actual possibilities are so

limited, and in which the responsibilities towards each individual solo

instrument are so great, where the handling requires to be so delicate

and so neatly adjusted in every detail, Mozart’s artistic skill stood

him in good stead. The great difficulty was the exact ascertainment

of the style of treatment best suited to the group of four solo

instruments. It was easy to write contrapuntal movements of the old

kind for them, but in the new harmonic style, and in the form of a

sonata order, it was extremely difficult to adjust the balance between

one instrument and another so that subordination should not subside

into blank dulness, nor independence of inner parts become obtrusive.

Mozart, among his many gifts, had a great sense of fitness, and he

adapted himself completely to the necessities of the situation, without

adopting a polyphonic manner, and without sacrificing the independence

of his instruments.”[15]

[Footnote 15: _The Art of Music_, Sir Hubert Parry.]

[Sidenote: =The Genius of Mozart=]

The wonderful power of Mozart as a composer is never more clearly

revealed than in the production of that strangely mysterious effect

which, unaided by any mere external text or programme, is here and

there to be found in the works of all the really great composers. It

may be illustrated by even so familiar an example as the fifth bar of

Beethoven’s No. 3 Leonora Overture, where the downward C major scale

ends on F♯, and is followed by the unexpected and weird harmony of

that note. Other instances may be found in the scherzo of the Fifth

Symphony of Beethoven, and in Schubert’s Lebens-stürme, op. 144, where

the chorale-like subject enters. Wagner, too, has many examples in the

instrumental portions of his works; for instance, the commencement of

Scene 4, Act ii., of _Die Walküre_.

The opening of Mozart’s Quartett No. 6 in C major, which has

already been quoted on page 60, has sometimes been referred to as

illustrating this mysterious kind of effect; but, while the passage

is unquestionably peculiar, there are others which better exemplify

what is meant by this atmosphere of “other worldness,” as it has been

called. Take, for instance, the passage beginning at the forty-second

bar of the first movement of Quartett No. 2 in D minor of the set

dedicated to Haydn, and mark the subtle effect in bars 4 and 5,

especially the sudden change from forte to piano at bar 4, and the

double piano which follows:—

[Music: MOZART.]

Of course it must by no means be overlooked that it is only by a

perfect rendering of the music that ideal effects of this kind can be

revealed as they first arose in the mind of the composer.

As illustrating another and quite different kind of effect, we have

in the andante of No. 8 Quartett in D major, dedicated to the King of

Prussia, an example of pure and simple melody, which, without subtlety

or mysticism, flows on in calm, unclouded beauty.

[Music: MOZART.]

[Sidenote: =Mozart’s other Chamber Music=]

The earlier String Quartetts of Mozart are not of equal merit with

those which he composed some nine years later. Of these the six

dedicated to Haydn are quite remarkable, as are also the three

dedicated to the King of Prussia. In these three the ’cello (the King’s

favourite instrument) is more than usually prominent.

The Quartetts for flute and strings and those for oboe and strings

are unimportant, but that for clarionet and strings is a more worthy

work. Of the String Quintetts those in C, G minor, and E♭ are the best,

especially the G minor, which is truly great. Mozart doubles the viola

in these Quintetts. It was the custom of his contemporary Boccherini,

to whom reference has been made, to double the ’cello.

There is also a Quintett for horn and strings, and one in C minor

for the curious combination flute, oboe, viola, ’cello, and glass

harmonica.[16] The Quintett in E♭, a special favourite of its author,

for piano, oboe, clarionet, horn, and bassoon, is a fine work, as are

the two piano and string Quartetts in G minor and in E♭.

[Footnote 16: A mechanical arrangement producing the effect of

so-called “musical glasses,” that is, thin tumbler glasses whose edges

were rubbed with the moistened finger.]

Of Trios, the Divertimento in E♭ for violin, viola, and ’cello is

remarkable; also that for clarinet, viola, and piano, in the same key,

an unusual but effective combination.

The seven Trios for piano, violin, and ’cello do not, as a whole, rank

among Mozart’s most exalted efforts, but some of them, and especially

certain movements, are excellent; that, for example, in E major, and

the slow movement of No. 496 Köchel, in G major. For the piano and

violin Mozart wrote forty-two Sonatas, an Allegro in B♭, and two sets

of variations, which are said to have been generally written for his

lady pupils. “They are neither deep nor learned, but interesting from

their abundant melody and modulation.”[17]

[Footnote 17: _Dictionary of Music and Musicians_ (Grove), vol.

ii. p. 398.]

This concludes the list of the more important of the chamber music

works of this great master.

[Sidenote: =Wagner on Mozart=]

In the words of Richard Wagner: “The life of Mozart was one of

continuous struggle for a peacefully-assured existence against the most

unequal odds. Caressed as a child by the half of Europe, as youth he

finds all satisfaction of his sharpened longings made doubly difficult,

and from manhood onwards he miserably sickens towards an early

grave.... His loveliest works were sketched between the elation of one

hour and the anguish of the next.”[18]

[Footnote 18: Prose Works, vol. v. p. 88.]

[Sidenote: =Mozart’s Letter to his Father=]

But while this was so, it is pathetically interesting to read what

he writes to his father when he first heard of his illness, for it

shows clearly that amid the hardships and trials which beset him,

Mozart never, at heart, repined, but sustained himself with a deep and

far-reaching philosophy of human life. “As death,” he says, “strictly

speaking, is the true end and aim of our lives, I have for the last

two years made myself so well acquainted with this true, best friend

of mankind that his image no longer terrifies, but calms and consoles

me. And I thank God for giving me the opportunity of learning to look

upon death as the key which unlocks the gate of true bliss. I never lie

down to rest without thinking that, young as I am, before the dawn of

another day I may be no more; and yet nobody who knows me would call me

morose or discontented. For this blessing I thank my Creator every day,

and wish from my heart that I could share it with all my fellow-men.”

[Illustration: BEETHOVEN.]

CHAPTER V.

BEETHOVEN.

Beethoven as democrat—Rhythmic similarities—Beethoven’s

first and last compositions—Musical humour—The distinction

in Beethoven’s chamber music.

The genius of this remarkable man has left us a heritage of undying

beauty in every department of the art, and especially in that of

chamber music.

[Sidenote: =Beethoven as Democrat=]

“Beethoven[19] (1770-1827) was the first great democrat among

musicians. He would have none of the shackles which his predecessors

wore, and he compelled the aristocracy of birth to bow to the

aristocracy of genius. But such was his reverence for the style of

music which had grown up in the chambers of the great, that he devoted

the last three years of his life almost exclusively to its composition;

the peroration of his proclamation to mankind consists of his last

Quartetts—the holiest of holy things to the chamber musicians of

to-day.” With regard to these works it has been said with, at any

rate a certain degree of truth, that the musical ideas contained in

them are too large for the means of expression, just as we find some

movements of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas to be orchestral in feeling,

and beyond the powers of the piano adequately to express. Some critics

have ventured to regard the later Quartetts as loose and rhapsodical in

form. This is, however, merely the penalty which conventionality seeks

to impose on creative genius, and may be passed by as harmless.

[Footnote 19: _How to Listen to Music_ (H.E. Krehbiel).]

[Sidenote: =Rhythmic Similarities=]

Among the many notable features to be found in Beethoven’s

compositions, it has, more than once, been pointed out that there is a

curious rhythmic likeness in certain works written by him about same

time, and this is confirmed (as to the time of composition) by the

sketches to be found in his note-books. The opening of the well-known

Fifth Symphony, op. 67, composed about 1804, for example:—

[Music]

may be compared with the Piano Sonata, op. 57, in F minor, written

about 1805, and the Piano Concerto, op. 58, written about 1806. Another

noteworthy instance is found in the String Quartett, op. 74, written

in 1809.[20] The third movement of which opens thus:—

[Music]

And further on the following unison passage occurs, in which the

resemblance to the Symphony just named, both rhythmic and as to the

actual notes, is very striking:—

[Music]

Yet here, as in the other instances, there is no mere repetition, for

each case possesses a distinct and unmistakable individuality of its

own.

[Footnote 20: The dates are according to Nottebohm’s Catalogue.]

The difficulty which presents itself in discussing Beethoven’s chamber

music is that one is embarrassed by the wealth of material which

presents itself on all hands, for although he wrote less in quantity

than many of the classical masters, nearly every work is remarkable,

and there is little or nothing that can come under the term “padding.”

This is no doubt to be accounted for by the slow, yet sure, way in

which he worked. His sketch-books show this clearly. Some melodies,

which seem to us so entirely spontaneous, as, for example, the

slow movement of the C minor Symphony, and the opening of the song

“Adelaida,” are found in these sketch-books in many forms, and were

many times altered before he was satisfied, and the final form decided

on.

[Sidenote: =Beethoven’s First and Last Compositions=]

Save some piano pieces which he did not think important enough to

deserve an opus number, his first published compositions were in

chamber music form. They are the three well-known Trios, op. 1, for

violin, ’cello, and piano, and the fine Trio, op. 3, in E♭, for violin,

viola, and ’cello. His last compositions also were in this form—namely,

the String Quartetts already mentioned, whose meaning is only now

beginning to be comprehended by musicians generally. His actually final

work was the movement which now concludes the Quartett in B♭, op. 130.

This work originally finished with an elaborate fugue, but Beethoven

was prevailed upon (it is said by Artaria, the publisher) to substitute

for it the present allegro, a movement which in its sprightly and

almost joyous character, and the clearness with which it is worked out,

forms a remarkable contrast to the fugue. Yet he wrote it under the

influence of very unpleasant domestic circumstances, and also what was

always very trying to him, while confined to the house (his brother’s,

at Gneixendorf) by rainy weather! Thus we see that he began and ended

his career with chamber music.

Schumann, than whom it would be difficult to quote a higher authority,

says of these last String Quartetts: “They appear to me to reach the

extremest limits of human art and fancy yet attained.”

Of the earlier String Quartetts it is hardly necessary to speak at any

length, as they are as familiar as household words to all who take

their music seriously. To the four published as op. 18, this remark

specially applies. But while this is so, no familiarity can alter the

fact that they are among the most charming and technically perfect

things which music has produced. That in F major, op. 59, too, is

among the well-known ones, for who does not love its dainty allegretto

(quoted below), one of the most remarkable of Beethoven’s scherzando

movements?

[Music: BEETHOVEN, OP. 59, NO. 1.]

[Sidenote: =Musical Humour=]

It is in music of this kind that he shows us the wide gap which

separates the merely comic element from that philosophic humour which

“sees the comedy of life through a mist of tears.” Specially notable

is the conclusion of this movement, where, after a full cadence in B♭,

four bars (pianissimo) are added, which give the momentary impression

of a quite fresh tonality; these are followed by other four bars

(double forte) of the common chord of the key-note, with which the

movement ends.

[Music: BEETHOVEN, OP. 59, NO. 1.]

In quite another mood, but written with the same artistic eccentricity

of effect, is the passage near the end of the adagio of Quartett op.

74, in E♭, where the note F♭[21] is played by the viola in the fourth

bar of the following quotation:—

[Music: BEETHOVEN, OP. 74.]

[Footnote 21: As an isolated note this dominant minor 9th (like that

above) sounds strangely and out of the key.]

Among Beethoven’s earlier works the five Trios (one being a Serenade)

for violin, viola, and ’cello, op. 3, op. 8, and op. 9, rank high, that

in C minor, No. 3 of op. 9, being a specially fine work. The limited

means (only three instruments) must be reckoned with in these works,

yet without any excessive addition to the difficulty of performance,

Beethoven produces continually the effect of a full quartett.

There is also another Trio, op. 25, for the unusual combination

of violin, flute, and viola, in serenade form. The whole work is

most interesting, especially as to the instruments for which it is

written, and the fourth movement, which is an andante in G major with

variations, performs with a surprising fulness of effect.

Another Trio is that for two oboes and English horn (or alto oboe), op.

87, a rather strongly flavoured mixture, which is apt to pall on the

musical palate in actual performance.

It is in his trios for the piano combined with other instruments,

but chiefly with the violin and ’cello, that Beethoven’s work

strongly contrasts with both Haydn’s and Mozart’s. No doubt his three

early works of this kind, published as op. 1, reflect the style and

influence of these two masters; yet even in these (the finale of No.

3 in C minor, for example) there are unmistakable signs of the coming

Beethoven. But in the later ones, and more particularly that in B♭, op.

97, his supremacy is powerfully manifested.

The Trio, op. 11, for clarinet, ’cello, and piano (a combination used

in our time by Brahms in his op. 114), is a pleasant, if not profound

work, with a most expressive and charmingly written adagio movement.

[Illustration: Edvard Grieg [signature]]

Of the Piano Quartetts, that in E♭, an arrangement of the piano and

wind Quintett, op. 16, should be mentioned. The other Piano Quartetts

are, comparatively, of little value. There are also the String

Quintetts, of which that in C major, op. 29, is familiar as a splendid

example of this master. The Sextett, op. 81B, for strings and two

horns, with the delightful adagio, and that for two clarinets, two

horns, and two bassoons, op. 71, may be named; also the well-known

Septett in E♭, op. 20, for strings and wind, both in its original form

and arranged by the composer for clarinet or violin, ’cello, and piano;

and the Octett, op. 103, for wind instruments, based on the Quintett,

op. 4, for strings.

Beethoven’s Sonatas for piano and violin are among the more familiar

of his works. Of these there are ten in number, and for the same

instruments, a rondo in G, and a set of Variations in F. For the piano

and ’cello he wrote five Sonatas, all of which are of great interest,

and three sets of Variations, one being that on the well-known

Handelian air, “See the conquering hero comes.” A Sonata for piano and

French horn, op. 17, and three duets for clarinet and bassoon, may also

be referred to, although they are of no great importance.

[Sidenote: =The Distinction in Beethoven’s Chamber Music=]

The great distinction in Beethoven’s works, especially those of his

later years, is their high emotional expression. This it is which

mainly differentiates him from his predecessors, and which makes him

a romantic as well as, what by common consent he also is, a classical

composer. This was, no doubt, the thought in Richard Wagner’s mind

when, in his report to King Ludwig II. upon the establishment of a

German music school in Munich, he wrote: “Through these last, and to

us still unknown works of our wondrous master [Beethoven’s posthumous

quartetts], of all others, the powers of musical expression has taken

a direction from which the music of earlier periods was often bound

to hold deliberately aloof; I will here call that direction _the

tenderly and deliberately passionate_, through whose expression

music has first raised herself to an equal height with the poetry

and painting of the greatest periods of the past. Whilst Dante,

Shakespeare, Calderon, and Goethe, like the great masters of painting

in Italy and the Netherlands, with this expression took fee of every

portrayable object in the world and man; and whilst it was this

that first enabled them to paint the world and man: in music there

had ruled an axiom which openly degraded her as a branch of Art, an

axiom borrowed from the purely physical pleasure, the purely sensuous

entertainment to be found in her. To what a point this narrow view

of music’s mission still wanders to this day, particularly under the

terrifying impression of the un-understood last works of Beethoven,

we may perceive from the flat assertions of modern æsthetes when

setting up their theories of ‘the Beautiful in Music.’ Us it behoves,

on the contrary, to first take true and full possession of the whole

rich heritage bequeathed us by our great masters, and, through full

knowledge of the powers developed by music hitherto, to procure

ourselves due light on what development is still before her.”

CHAPTER VI.

SCHUBERT, MENDELSSOHN, SCHUMANN, AND SPOHR.

Schubert as song-writer—Schubert’s chamber

music—Mendelssohn—Mendelssohn’s position in

England—Mendelssohn’s character—Mendelssohn’s chamber

music—Schumann—Schumann as absolute musician—The E♭ Piano

Quintett—Piano trios—Spohr’s opinion of Beethoven’s

work—Characteristics of his compositions.

[Sidenote: =Schubert as Song-writer=]

Schubert’s fame rests chiefly on his songs, but in the domain of

instrumental music he also did some remarkable work, although it

can hardly be said that he fundamentally influenced the art in

this direction. He lived (1797-1828) in Vienna at the same time as

Beethoven, and many of his compositions show distinctly how much

he was influenced by the genius of that great musician. Schubert’s

works are distinguished by a spontaneous flow of beautiful melody.

He possessed, by right of nature, the utmost artistic opulence, but

unfortunately, owing chiefly to his birth and early circumstances, this

was not consolidated by that profounder culture which is necessary for

the fullest expression of human capacity. Not that Schubert failed

to reach a most exalted position, for works like the B♭ Piano Trio,

the C major Quintett, that noble fragment the B minor Symphony, and

especially his best songs, proclaim him unsurpassed by any musician

of modern times; but out of the very profusion of his ideas, combined

with a certain want of restraint and self-criticism, arose an artistic

danger, the result of which is most evident in his larger works. This,

too, is probably the reason why he was so great as a composer of songs,

for he had all the means ready at hand for the expression which the

text required, and the form being necessarily free, he could and did

work in an unfettered fashion, with the most wonderful results. That

this is so, such _Lieder_ as “The Erl King,” “Gretchen at the

Spinning-wheel,” “The Wanderer,” and many others, abundantly prove.

Liszt, who greatly advocated his works, called Schubert “the most

poetical of all the musicians,” and Schumann characteristically writes

thus of the Piano Trio in B♭:—“One glance at this trio, and all the

pitiful clouds of life disperse and the world shines again as fresh

and bright as ever. This work is indeed a precious legacy. Many and

beautiful as are the things which time brings forth, it will be long

ere it produces another Schubert.”

[Sidenote: =Schubert’s Chamber Music=]

Schubert’s principal chamber music works are the Octett in F for

strings, horn, clarinet, and bassoon; a Quintett (Forellen) for piano

and strings; another Quintett in C major for strings, which is an

extremely fine work; twenty String Quartetts, two Piano Trios, two

String Trios, a Rondo Brilliant in B minor, a Fantasia in C, and some

Sonatinas, and a Sonata for piano and violin. Of the String Quartetts,

that in D minor, the slow movement of which is a set of variations on

Schubert’s own song, “Death and the Maiden,” and that in G major, op.

161, are among the best of his works in this form. That in E♭, op. 125,

is one of the best known; certainly it is full of charming melody,

besides being very grateful for the players. The C major Quintett and

the Piano Trio in B♭ already mentioned may be specially referred to as

full of that charm and spontaneity which are characteristic of this

composer.

Schubert’s career was one of comparative poverty and hardship. His

compositions brought him little money. Still he seems to have laboured

on without regard to popularity, content to do that which seemed best

and truest, and no doubt finding his highest satisfaction and reward in

the work itself, for as Emerson says, “Every true talent exhilarates.”

Thus was completed the short span of his earthly life, for he passed

away at the early age of 31. Mozart died at 35, Purcell at 37, and

Mendelssohn at 38! The inscription on Schubert’s tomb in the cemetery

at Vienna, where he was, by his own desire, interred near the grave of

Beethoven, reads thus:—“Music has here entombed a rich treasure, but

still fairer hopes.”

[Sidenote: =Mendelssohn=]

[Illustration: herzlich R. Schumann [signature]]

The career of Mendelssohn (1809-47) presents a strong contrast to that

of Schubert. Born in affluent circumstances, he possessed from his

birth all those advantages (and hindrances) which appertain to wealth.

But his parents were discreet people, who were not, so to say, carried

off their feet by the unquestionable precocity and genius of the boy.

They took care that his education, both general and musical, was of the

best, and when he was 16 years old his father took him to Paris, where

Cherubini, Principal of the Conservatoire, reigned supreme as the great

musical authority. The result of the interview was most satisfactory,

and any scruples as to the boy’s musicianship, and as to what his

future should be, were thereby finally disposed of, and Mendelssohn

entered on a career which proved to be one of the most brilliant that

has ever fallen to the lot of a musician.

[Sidenote: =Mendelssohn’s Position in England=]

In England, after Handel, and perhaps Haydn, the name of Mendelssohn

stands next—that is, taking provincial opinion, which is chiefly

concerned with choral works, into account, and not merely London and

the larger civic centres. Indeed, it is hardly an exaggeration to

say that he stands before Haydn. That master is known, among those

of whom we speak, chiefly by his oratorio _The Creation_. But

in this work the choral writing is less satisfactory to the average

choral singer than either Handel—as represented, say, by _The

Messiah_, _Samson_, or _Judas Maccabæus_—or Mendelssohn,

by _Elijah_ and _The Hymn of Praise_; and for this reason

Mendelssohn no doubt, in the opinion of such people, stands higher than

the composer of _The Creation_.

We are not arguing as to the justice of such an opinion, which of

course leaves out of consideration the instrumentation and the solos

of Haydn’s immortal work; but such a condition of things has, none the

less, been of much service in England, for _Elijah_ presents many

dramatic points which are not to be met with in either Handel or Haydn,

and by the study of this work the taste of a very numerous class has

been greatly advantaged, and that pernicious worship of Handel, which

up to some twenty or thirty years ago dominated British choral music,

has to a considerable extent been broken up. Thus the way has been

cleared for the introduction of works by the serious musicians of our

own time, which are apt to be misunderstood and neglected, because they

are often written in a freely dramatic form that is strange, if not

obnoxious, to the average chorister.

This of course applies to choral music, but all the same a sound and

progressive taste in one style is sure to affect the general judgment,

and what is true of the oratorio will soon become equally so of the

symphony, of chamber music, and of the other forms of composition.

[Sidenote: =Mendelssohn’s Character=]

Although from his youth up Mendelssohn exhibited a marked spontaneity

of manner and freedom from the ordinary conventional restraints of

life, yet there was all the time a serious side to his character which

made itself manifest quite early in his career. Ferdinand Hiller

relates that when Mendelssohn’s teacher, Aloys Schmitt, brought him as

a boy to visit Hiller, as they approached the house Hiller, unobserved

by them, saw from the window with what gaiety of demeanour Mendelssohn

behaved, running behind and leaping on Schmitt’s back in a boisterous

and uncontrolled manner, full of life and vigour. When they entered

the house, however, while the youth was unconstrained, yet he became

quite grave and dignified in his manner, and expressed, in what Hiller

thought almost over-ripe a fashion, his views about art and artists.

Later in life the same characteristic of restraint showed itself under

circumstances of such perennial interest that the story may again be

told.

While residing in Frankfort-on-Main, Mendelssohn made the acquaintance

of a certain family named Jean-renaud, the head of the household being

a widow whose husband had been the pastor of the French Reformed

Church. By his frequent visits to the house, it soon became evident

that Mendelssohn was attracted in no ordinary way. But such was his

demeanour that, although it was really the daughter Cécile to whom

his heart went out, his friends were under the impression that the

mother, who was still an attractive woman, was the load-star. To

Hiller, with whom he was on terms of intimacy, Mendelssohn revealed

his true feelings, and spoke with all the enthusiasm of young love of

his regard for Fräulein Cécile. Hiller naturally looked daily for the

usual climax, when to his astonishment he learned that Mendelssohn had

suddenly left Frankfort and gone to Holland, where he stayed for a

month. This he did, as he afterwards told Hiller, deliberately to test

how much and how truly he was in love. On his return, having no doubt

proved the genuineness of his feelings, he became formally engaged

to the young lady, and early in the following year (1837) they were

married.

[Sidenote: =Mendelssohn’s Chamber Music=]

It is not easy even now to deal equitably with Mendelssohn’s chamber

music, for his abundant and charming melody, combined with a clear and

transparent style, are apt to beguile the judgment, and to obscure the

fundamental truths whereby all art must be tried. The slow movement and

the scherzo of the E minor String Quartett, for example, are admirable,

and even though they may not be said to have added anything to the

form in which they are written, yet the pure and elevated beauty of

the music is entirely satisfying. On the other hand, some movements,

such as the String Quartett op. 44 in D major, are, as has been often

remarked, quite orchestral in style and effect, and the same may be

said of the Quartett op. 80. Mendelssohn also set a pattern in the

two Piano Trios, which has been too much followed by later composers,

whereby the piano part dominates and tends to obscure the other

instruments. Especially in some movements of the D minor op. 49 is this

the case, whereby the balance of parts is disturbed, and the artistic

value lowered, of a work otherwise crowded with beautiful ideas.

Professor Ritter,[22] in discussing Mendelssohn’s position, says

“he was more lyric than dramatic, more refined than profound, more

conventional than original,” a judgment which is, in a general sense,

in accord with that of another competent authority, who, speaking of

Mendelssohn, writes:—“It has not been the lot of many men to win so

much affection, or to give so much pleasure. His various gifts were

in constant employment for the benefit of all people who were capable

of enjoying music and good company; and he squeezed as much work into

his short life as most men get into a life of twice the length. The

spirit in the end wore out the body; indeed it seems wonderful that it

stood the strain so long. But his nature would not allow him to live

otherwise, and the enjoyment of all the things which came in his way

was a necessary condition to enable him to produce the happy genial

style of music which is characteristic of him.... He was too full of

occupation to brood over the troubles of the world, or to think much of

tragedies and the stern workings of fate; but all moods must have their

expression in art, and those which were natural for him to express he

dealt with in the most delicate and artistic way, and the results

have afforded healthy and refined pleasure to an immense number of

people.”[23]

[Footnote 22: _History of Music_ (Ritter).]

[Footnote 23: _Studies of Great Composers_ (C. Hubert H. Parry).]

The following are Mendelssohn’s principal chamber music compositions:—

3 Quartetts, op. 1, 2, and 3, for piano and strings.

7 String Quartetts, op. 12, 13, 44, 80, 81, etc.

Octett for Strings, op. 20.

2 String Quintetts, op. 18 and 87.

2 Trios, op. 49 and 66, for piano and strings.

Sextett, op. 110, for piano and strings.

2 Concert-pieces, op. 113 and 114, for clarinet and basset horn,

with piano accompaniment.

2 Sonatas, op. 45 and 58 }

A Set of Variations, op. 17 } for ’cello and piano.

A Lied ohne Worte, op. 109 }

And a Sonata, op. 4 in F minor, for violin and piano.

[Sidenote: =Schumann=]

“The English have adopted Mendelssohn, but in Germany an equal rank is

accorded to Schumann. It may arise from affection for Mendelssohn that

the English are inclined to deny Schumann’s claims, fearing that the

recognition of them may interfere with the justly deserved reputation

of their favourite; but, be this as it may, a comparison should not

be instituted between them. Schumann, apart from his not having the

natural gifts of Mendelssohn, was a solitary student, unable by the use

of his talents or his manners to make himself popular. Mendelssohn,

endowed with every distinction nature and a refined education could

bestow, happily balanced the requirements of the public with the

dignity of the true artist, without yielding to vulgar tastes. If he

did not rely on the _vox populi_ he admitted the truth existing in

that voice. Schumann, if he did not exactly treat popular opinion with

contempt, would not consult it. He never had the means of forming for

himself a clear idea of what was due to the public, not being a public

player, as Mozart, Beethoven, Weber, Mendelssohn, and Chopin all were.

It is before the public an artist learns to play, and it is before the

public a composer feels, with even painful acuteness, any imperfections

or tediousness in his works. That which sounds right and interesting

in a small study, with a sympathising friend to turn over the leaves,

may sound dreary, uninteresting, and even tiresome, to an indifferent

audience. We have here a sufficient reason why Schumann would not

have attained a widespread popularity like that of his admired friend

Mendelssohn. But surely in these days, when there are so many weak

productions, we are not justified in disregarding the works of an

intelligent and conscientious master; a man who had the purest and

noblest aspirations, and who was ever the first to acknowledge, with

true sympathy and every sign of delight, the merits of others.”[24]

[Footnote 24: _Analytical Programme_ (Ernst Pauer).]

Robert Schumann (1810-56) was a man of high intellectual capacity and

culture, and this it is which chiefly distinguishes both the man and

his compositions; for it will hardly be claimed for him that he was by

birthright such an absolute musician as, say, Mozart or Mendelssohn.

[Sidenote: =Schumann as Absolute Musician=]

The inborn natural qualities of these masters were, of course,

supplemented by that careful training which is essential to success,

even for the most richly endowed of human beings; but with Schumann

one may almost say that the culture stands first. Not that he failed

to exhibit strong musical tendencies even from his childhood, for

do we not read of his caricaturing his schoolmates by playing, in a

grotesque manner, on the piano, while still at school. Yet anything he

did in this way, and as regards composition, is very different from

what we find in the early years of the two who have been mentioned. It

is evident also that, as he grew to manhood, his aim in life was to

become a solo pianist, for which purpose he worked diligently under

the father of that great artist Clara Wieck, who eventually became his

wife. But, unfortunately, he injured his hand in an attempt to make it

stronger by some mechanical means, and thus he had to relinquish the

idea of playing in public. Then he more earnestly applied himself to

composition, with no doubt most remarkable results. Yet in this sphere

too we find the influence of a resolute determination, as distinguished

from a natural yearning, as, for instance, in the year 1842, when he

resolved to write chamber music, it is said that he shut himself up

with the scores of Beethoven’s string quartetts, and having, as it

were, assimilated their very essence, he proceeded to compose the three

quartetts known as op. 41. There are evidences[25] of a like mental

habit in connection with his larger works, which may be investigated by

those who care to do so.

[Footnote 25: _Studies in Modern Music_ (W.H. Hadow).]

It is, however, in the piano compositions of his early period that one

finds the truest expression of his genius. He was indeed the poet of

the piano, and he has left us, in this style, a wealth of rich romantic

beauty.

[Sidenote: =The E♭ Piano Quintett=]

The Piano Quintett in E♭, op. 44, is generally regarded as one of the

best works which Schumann has given to the world in chamber music

form. It is, from the outset, characterised by a straight-forwardness

of utterance which is not always found in his compositions, and it is

also more than usually grateful to play. The first movement, which

is distinguished by an impressive and stately rhythm, preserves an

astonishing freshness, even after one notices that it consists of

an almost unceasing repetition of the first few notes of both its

principal themes. The dirge-like “In modo d’una Marcia” movement,

which follows, carries with it the convincing argument of true melody

and well-contrasted episodes; the scherzo, with its homespun scale

passages, which are, however, so treated as to sound quite unusual;

these, and the finale, which brings the work to a resounding and

successful conclusion, are all quite clear and need no commentary. That

such a work should meet with high approval and retain a permanent hold

on the musical world is what might naturally be looked for.

The Piano Quartett op. 47, in the same key, E♭, is written somewhat in

the same manner, but with hardly the sustained energy and character

of the quintett. It is in the andante of this work that we find the

succession of sevenths in the chief melody which, while charming in

effect, illustrate the tendency frequently shown by Schumann to write

passages in the Rosalia form. This is to repeat a phrase or melody at

another pitch several times in succession, a method which, at any rate

in Germany, is regarded as betokening a certain weakness of inventive

power. It is also in this andante that the ’cello tunes the fourth

string down to B♭, so as to sustain a pedal bass on that note during

the last bars of the movement.

[Sidenote: =Piano Trios=]

Of the three piano trios, that in D minor is the finest work, and

contains much that is admirable, especially as it avoids, as indeed

is Schumann’s constant custom, the mere bravura pianoforte style of

writing. These trios do not, however, compare favourably with the

quintett or quartett named above, and this applies more especially to

that in G minor.

As regards Schumann’s position as one of the classical composers, Mr.

Hadow in his _Studies in Modern Music_, says:—“It may be that

much of his work will not survive the attack of time. There are few

men who do not find that the greater part of their life’s record is

written in water. But something at least will remain. He is not only

the best representative, but the virtual founder of a distinct style

in music; his sense of beauty is often exquisite; his feeling—pure,

manly, and chivalrous. So long as melody possesses the power to soothe,

to comfort, to sympathise, so long shall we turn in gratitude to one

who could transmute the sorrows of his own heart into an elixir for the

cure of others.”

Schumann’s chamber music compositions include:—

3 String Quartetts in A min., F, and A, op. 41.

Pianoforte Quintett in E♭, op. 44.

Pianoforte Quartett in E♭, op. 47.

Pianoforte Trio in D min., op. 63.

Pianoforte Trio in F, op. 80.

Pianoforte Trio in G min., op. 110.

4 Phantasiestücke for piano, violin, and ’cello, op. 88.

Adagio and Allegro for piano and horn, op. 70.

3 Phantasiestücke for piano and clarinet, op. 73.

3 Romanzen for piano and oboe, op. 94.

5 Stücke im Volkston, for piano and ’cello, op. 102.

Sonata in A min., for piano and violin, op. 105.

Sonata in D min., for piano and violin, op. 121.

4 Märchenbilder for piano and viola, op. 113.

4 Märchenerzählungen for piano, clarinet, and viola, op. 132.

[Sidenote: =Spohr=]

[Sidenote: =Spohr’s Opinion of Beethoven’s Works=]

Had Spohr’s (1784-1859) musical powers, remarkable as they no doubt

were, been equal to his individuality of character he would have

outstripped all his contemporaries, not perhaps excepting Beethoven

himself. He was essentially a self-centred man, a kind of solar mind

whose constant tendency was to make satellites of whoever and whatever

came within the sphere of his personal influence. This it is which

tends to explain his criticisms of the men of his own time, such,

for example, as that the opening of Beethoven’s C minor Symphony was

unfitted for such a work; that the slow movement was tedious; the

finale full of unmeaning noise; that the Ninth Symphony was “monstrous

and tasteless”; and that Beethoven was, as a composer, “wanting both

in æsthetic culture and sense of beauty.” This, too, it should be

remembered, cannot have been any mere hasty or superficial judgment,

seeing that Spohr lived in the city of Vienna for some time along

with Beethoven, knew him personally, and must have had a fairly full

opportunity of forming an opinion of his music. In contradistinction

to this, however, we must place the facts that he admired the earlier

works of the Bonn master, and was indeed the first to perform publicly

at Berlin and Leipzig the String Quartetts op. 18. Also, strange to

say, that in the year 1853 he brought out, in spite of much opposition,

at the Cassel Opera-house, where he was the director, Wagner’s opera

_Tannhäuser_! This curious combination of conflicting qualities is

further exemplified by the fact that he, who was naturally a classic

in style, and regarded Mozart as his model, wrote a number of his

important works to a programme. Among these we find an orchestral

symphony entitled “The Worldly and the Heavenly Influences in the Life

of Man,” with a solo orchestra for the heavenly, and an ordinary full

orchestra for the worldly influences. Another was called “The Seasons.”

No doubt these works contain many fine ideas, and some movements are

full of charm, but for all this, it cannot be said that they were

really successful, or that Spohr thereby increased the scope of the

symphonic form.

[Sidenote: =Characteristics of his Compositions=]

The story of chamber music · 第 10 / 12 章