Arthur Friedheim was born of German parentage in St. Petersburg, October
26, 1859. He lost his father in early youth, but was carefully reared by
an excellent mother. His musical studies were begun in his eighth year,
and his progress was so rapid that he was enabled to make his artistic
debut before the St. Petersburg public in the following year by playing
Field's A-flat major concerto. He created a still greater sensation,
however, after another twelve months had elapsed, with his performance
of Weber's difficult piano concerto, reaping general admiration for his
work. Despite these successes, the youth was then submitted to a
thorough university education, and in 1877 passed his academical
examination with great honours. But now the musical promptings of his
warm artist soul, no longer able to endure this restraint, having
revived, Friedheim with all his energy again devoted himself to his
musical advancement, including the study of composition, and it proved a
severe blow, indeed, to him when his family soon afterward met with
reverses, in losing their estates, thus robbing the young artist of his
cheery home surroundings.
From this time Friedheim's artistic wanderings began, and fulfilling a
long cherished desire, he, with his mother, first paid a visit to that
master of masters, Franz Liszt. Then he went to Dresden, continuing in
the composition of an opera begun at St. Petersburg, entitled The Last
Days of Pompeii. In order to acquire the necessary routine he accepted a
position as conductor of operas for several years, when an irresistible
force once more led his steps toward Weimar, where, after he had
produced the most favourable impression by the performance of his own
piano concerto, with Liszt at a second piano, he took up his permanent
abode with the master, accompanying him to Rome and Naples. Meantime
Friedheim concertised in Cairo, Alexandria, and Paris, also visiting
London in 1882. At the request of Camille Saint-Saens fragments of his
works were produced during his stay in Paris.
Friedheim next went to Vienna, where his concerts met with brilliant
success, and later on to Northern Germany, where his renown as a great
pianist became firmly established. He enjoyed positive triumphs in
Berlin, Leipsic and Carlsruhe. Friedheim's technic, his tone, touch,
marvellous certainty, unequalled force and endurance, his broad
expression and that rare gift--a style in the grand manner--are the
qualities that have universally received enthusiastic praise. In later
years he travelled extensively, and more particularly in 1884 to 1886,
in Germany. In 1887 he conducted a series of concerts in Leipsic, in
1888 he revisited London, in 1889 he made a tour through Russia and
Poland; a second tour through Russia was made in 1890, including
Bohemia, Austria, and Galicia, while in 1891 he played numerous
engagements in Germany and also in London, whence he came to this
country to fulfil a very short engagement.
Albert Morris Bagby wrote as follows in his article, "Some Pupils of
Liszt," in the _Century_ about twenty years ago:
"Friedheim! What delightful musical memories and happy recollections are
the rare days spent together in Weimar that name excites! D'Albert left
there before my time, and though I met him on his flying visits to
Weimar, I generally think of him as I first saw him, seated at a piano
on the concert platform.
"One late afternoon in August, 1885, Liszt stood before a wide-open
window of his salon on the second floor of the court gardener's
residence in Weimar, and his thoughtful gaze wandered out beyond the
long row of hothouses and narrow beds of rare shrubs to the rich leafy
growth which shaded the glorious park inclosing this modest home. He was
in a serene state of mind after an hour at whist in which he had won the
rubber, and now, while his young companions were putting the card-tables
and chairs back into their accustomed places about the room, he stood
silent and alone. Any one of us would have given more than 'a penny for
his thoughts,' a fact which he probably divined, for, without turning
his head, he said; 'Friedheim did indeed play beautifully!' referring
to the young pianist's performance of his A major concerto that
afternoon in the class lesson.
"'And the accompaniment was magnificently done, too!' added one of the
small party.
"'Ah!' exclaimed the master, with an animated look and gesture which
implied, 'that goes without saying.' 'Friedheim,' said he, and lifted
his hand with a proud sweep to indicate his estimation of his favourite
pupil, who had supplied the orchestral part on a second piano. After
Friedheim's triumphal debut at Leipsic in the spring of 1884, Liszt was
so much gratified that he expressed with unwonted warmth his belief that
the young man would yet become the greatest piano virtuoso of the age.
He was then just twenty-four years old, and his career since that event
points toward the fulfilment of the prophecy.
"Arthur Friedheim is the most individual performer I have ever heard. A
very few executants equal him in mere finger dexterity, but he surpasses
them all in his gigantic strength at the instrument and in marvellous
clearness and brilliancy. At times he plays with the unbridled
impetuosity of a cyclone; and even while apparently dealing the piano
mighty blows, which from other hands would sound forced and discordant,
they never cease to be melodious. This musical, penetrating quality of
touch is the chief charm of Friedheim's playing. He makes the piano
sing, but its voice is full and sonorous. If he plays a pianissimo
passage the effect is as clear and sweet as a perfectly attuned silver
bell, and his graduated increase or diminution of tone is the acme of
artistic finish. No living pianist performs Liszt's compositions so well
as Friedheim. This fact was unanimously mentioned by the critics upon
his first appearance in Berlin in a 'Liszt concert,' in conjunction with
the fear that he would not succeed as an interpreter of Beethoven and
Chopin; which, however, the new virtuoso has since proved groundless.
Friedheim is one of the most enjoyable and inspiriting of the great
pianists. His playing of Liszt's second rhapsody produces an electric
shock; and once heard from him La Campanella remains in the memory an
ineffaceable tone poem. To me he has made likewise indelible Chopin's
lovely D-flat major prelude.
"Friedheim is of medium height and weight; has regular, clear-cut
features, dark brown eyes, and hair pushed straight back from a high,
broad forehead and falling over his coat collar, artist fashion. In his
street dress, with a bronze velvet jacket, great soft felt hat and a
gold medallion portrait of Liszt worn as a scarf pin, he is the typical
musician. His resemblance to the early pictures of Liszt is as marked as
that of D'Albert to Tausig. He was born and bred in St. Petersburg,
though his parents are German. I know nothing of his early instructors,
but it is sufficient to say that he was at least nine years with Liszt.
Fortune favoured him with a relative of unusual mental power who has
made his advancement her life work. To these zealous mothers of
musicians the world is indebted for some of the greatest artistic
achievements of every time and period. There are many celebrated
instances where application is almost entirely lacking or fluctuating in
the child of genius, and the mother supplied the deficiency of character
until the artist was fully developed, and steadiness of purpose had
become routine with him. One evening I was sitting with Friedheim and
his mother in one of those charming restaurant gardens which abound in
Weimar when we were joined by two of the Lisztianer, convivial spirits
who led a happy-go-lucky existence. 'Come, Arthur,' said one, 'we will
go to the "Armbrust" for a few minutes--music there to-night. Will be
right back, Mrs. Friedheim.' 'No,' replied the mother, pleasantly,
'Arthur remains with me this evening.' 'But, mother, we will be gone
only a few minutes, and I have already practiced seven hours to-day,'
entreated the son. 'Yes, dear child, and you must practice seven more
to-morrow. I think you had better remain with me,' responded his parent.
Friedheim good-naturedly assented to his mother's speech, for the
nocturnal merry-makings of a certain clique of divers artists at the
'Hotel zum Elephanten' were too well-known to risk denial."