At this time Spohr continued the composition of chamber music and formed
a quartet, consisting of himself, Wiele, solo violinist of the court
orchestra, Ferdinand Spohr, viola, and Haseman, 'cello. About this time,
too, he wrote the first of his four double quartets, which were then a
great novelty. He visited Leipsic and Berlin to conduct first performances
of "Jessonda," which in both cities achieved great success. In 1824, he
enjoyed the society of Mendelssohn during the winter in Berlin. Returning
to Cassel he wrote his opera "Der Berggeist," which was produced at the
marriage of the Elector's daughter on Mar. 23, 1825, and was well received.
In the same year Rochlitz, editor of the Leipsic _Music Journal_, offered
him the text of the oratorio, "The Last Judgment," and he set to work on
it at once. The oratorio was produced in the Lutheran church of Cassel,
on Good Friday, Mar. 25, 1826, and made a deep impression. In 1827, he
produced another opera, "Pietro von Albano," which in spite of Meyerbeer's
enthusiastic praise, had little success. In 1831, he finished his "Violin
School," a book of instruction which is still held in esteem though not
regarded as the best. In 1832, political disturbances, in which Spohr
played the radical and offended the Elector, interrupted the opera
performances at Cassel for a long time, and the artist devoted his time
to oratorio and instrumental composition. In 1832 he wrote his most noted
symphony, "The Consecration of Tones," and in 1834 he was at work on his
"Calvary," which was produced at Cassel on Good Friday, 1835. He went
to England a second time in 1839, to conduct "Calvary" at the Norwich
Festival. The success of the work was so great that he was commissioned to
write "The Fall of Babylon" (the book by Edward Taylor) for the Norwich
Festival of 1842. In 1840 he conducted a festival at Aix-la-Chapelle, and
in 1842 he produced Wagner's "Der Fliegende Holländer" at Cassel.
He had heard much in its praise from Dresden, and having read the work was
at once pleased with it. In writing to a friend he said: "It interests
me, nevertheless, in the highest degree, for it is written apparently
with true inspiration--and unlike so much of the modern opera music,
does not display in every bar the striving after effect, or effort to
please. There is a great deal of the fanciful there-in; a noble conception
throughout; it is well-written for the singer; enormously difficult, it
is true, and somewhat overcharged in the instrumentation, but full of new
effects, and will assuredly, when it once comes to be performed in the
greater space of the theatre, be thoroughly clear, and intelligible....
I think I am so far correct in my judgment, when I consider Wagner as
the most gifted of all our dramatic composers of the present time." This
opinion of Spohr's is creditable to his judgment as a musician and his
generosity as a man. He worked hard and gave a performance which pleased
the public. He wrote to Wagner of the success of his work and received
from the young composer one of his characteristic letters of gratitude.
The Elector of Hesse-Cassel, unmoved even by a monster petition headed
with the name of Lord Aberdeen, declined to permit Spohr to go to England,
and conduct the "Fall of Babylon" at the Norwich Festival. The oratorio
was produced without his assistance and was highly successful. He went
to England, however, at the beginning of his summer vacation and gave
some profitable concerts. In 1844 he brought forward his last opera, "Die
Kreuzfahrer" ("The Crusaders"). For this he had arranged his own libretto
from a play by Kotzebue. The success of the opera, performed at Cassel
and Berlin, was brief. He made a trip to Paris, where the Conservatoire
orchestra honored him with a special performance of his "Consecration of
Tones." He conducted the "Missa Solemnis" and the Ninth Symphony at the
Beethoven Festival at Bonn, in the same year. In 1847 he again visited
London, when his "Fall of Babylon," "Last Judgment," "Lord's Prayer,"
and Milton's eighty-fourth psalm were presented in three concerts by the
Sacred Harmonic Society. In the same year the twenty-fifth anniversary
of his assumption of the directorship at Cassel was celebrated by a
performance of excerpts from his operas.
The revolutionary events of 1848 interrupted Spohr's flow of compositions.
He felt, as he wrote to his friend Hauptmann, that "the excitement of
politics and the constant reading of newspapers incapacitated him from
giving his attention to any serious and quiet study." In 1849, while
recovering from an illness caused by a fall on the ice, he planned his
ninth symphony, "The Seasons," which he wrote shortly after his recovery.
He went to Breslau in the hope of hearing Schumann's "Genoveva," but
owing to delays heard only some rehearsals. During his two weeks' stay in
Breslau, honors were heaped upon him. Banquets were given, concerts of his
music were arranged, and his opera "Zemire und Azor" was performed at the
theatre. In 1850 he was made to suffer from court malice. The Elector,
probably to chastise him for his radical political ideas, refused him
permission to take a summer vacation. He went away without leave, and the
result was a lawsuit with the managers of the theatre, which after four
years he lost by a technicality.
In 1852, at the invitation of the Covent Garden management, he again
visited England to produce his "Faust," which was successfully given on
July 15 with Castellan, Ronconi, Formes and Tamberlik in the principal
parts. In 1853 Spohr showed once more his respect and consideration
for the rising genius of Wagner by devoting his energies to a careful
production of "Tannhäuser." The letters of Spohr show that while he
heartily sympathized with Wagner's irresistible sincerity of purpose
and the honesty of his dramatic art, he, like many others, found the
new master's manner of writing hard to comprehend. He exclaims in one
letter to Hauptmann: "What faces would Haydn and Mozart make, were they
obliged to hear the stunning noise that is now given to us for music."
Nevertheless Spohr saw the germs of a noble dramatic style in these works
of Wagner, and after his successful and artistically admirable production
of "Tannhäuser," he turned his attention to "Lohengrin." Owing, however,
to the opposition of the Elector and the court, the work was not produced,
and, indeed, Spohr never heard it. In the same year (1853) he made his
sixth visit to London, conducting three concerts of the New Philharmonic
Society, at which, among other things, his own double symphony and
Beethoven's ninth were performed. His opera "Jessonda" was put in
rehearsal at Covent Garden by Mr. Gye, but Spohr had to return to Cassel
before it was produced.
On his return journey he planned his septet for piano, two stringed and
four wind instruments, one of his most admired chamber compositions. In
1854 he passed his summer vacation in Switzerland and visited Munich.
In 1855 he visited Hanover, where he heard his seventh violin concerto
played, as he writes, "in a very masterly manner, by Joachim." On his
departure from Hanover the Royal Hanoverian Chapel presented him with
a very handsome conductor's baton. In 1856 Spohr became conscious
that his productive powers were failing. He wrote two quartets and a
symphony, all three of which he condemned, after repeated alterations,
to remain in manuscript and silence. In 1857 he made a trip through
Holland and returned to Cassel much refreshed. On Nov. 14, much against
his inclination, the elector retired him from active duty on a pension
of fifteen hundred thalers per annum. He soon became reconciled to his
retirement, but two days after Christmas he met with a more serious
misfortune in a fall which broke his left arm and rendered him incapable
of further violin playing. This was a source of deep grief to him and
no doubt prepared his spirit for the final resignation of all earthly
joys. How he clung to his artistic endeavors may be seen in a letter to
Hauptmann (April 6, 1858) in which he says: "I am now perfectly convinced
that I cannot accomplish any great work more. I regret to say that my
last attempt of the kind failed, and my requiem remains a fragment;
nevertheless, as the subject, as far as the _Lachrimosa dies illa_, at
which I stuck fast, pleases me well, and seems to have much that is new
and ingenious in it, I shall not destroy it, as I should like to take
it up again, and shall make another attempt to complete it." He devoted
half a day to this attempt, but the effort only brought him to a final
determination to abandon composition for good and all.
In the beginning of July he went to Prague, when the 50th anniversary of
the Conservatory was celebrated by three musical performances, one being
of "Jessonda." On the way home he visited Alexandersbad, returning much
refreshed. Yet thenceforward his spirits declined; he complained to his
wife that he was weary of life because he could no longer do anything. In
September, however, he summoned enough interest to go to the Middle-Rhine
Festival at Wiesbaden and in October to Leipsic. In December, 1858, he
occupied himself once more as a teacher, giving lessons gratis to a poor
girl who wished to become a teacher. On April 12, 1859, he made his last
appearance as a conductor, directing his own "Consecration of Tones"
symphony at a charitable concert by the Meiningen court orchestra. In the
course of the summer he made a few short journeys, but could not conceal
from himself their evil effects. On Sunday, Oct. 16, a change in his
condition became manifest. On retiring that night he expressed to his
wife a hope that he should "at length have a good night's rest." In the
morning he awoke calm and refreshed in spirit, but his physician at once
saw that the end was at hand. He lingered, surrounded by those he loved,
till Oct. 22, when at 10.30 in the evening he peacefully passed away. In
1883 a statue was erected to his memory.
* * * * *
Spohr's principal works are as follows: oratorios and cantatas--"Das
jüngste Gericht" ("The Last Judgment," first version, 1812), "Die Letzten
Dinge" ("The Last Judgment," second version, 1826), "Des Heilands letzte
Stunden" ("Calvary," 1835), "Der Fall Babylons" ("The Fall of Babylon,"
1841), and "Das befreite Deutschland" ("Free Germany"), MS.; operas--"Die
Prüfung" ("The Trial," 1806), "Alruna" (1808), "Die Eulenkönigin" ("The
Owl Queen," 1808), "Die Zweikampf mit der Geliebten" ("The Lovers' Duel,"
1811), "Faust" (1818), "Zemire und Azor" (1819), "Jessonda" (1823), "Der
Berggeist" ("The Mountain Spirit," 1825), "Pietro von Albano" (1827),
"Der Alchymist" ("The Alchemist," 1830), and "Die Kreuzfahrer" ("The
Crusaders," 1845); church music--mass for five solo voices and two
five-part choruses, opus 54: three psalms for double chorus and soli, opus
85; hymn, "Gott du bist gross" ("God thou art great"), for chorus, soli
and orchestra; symphonies--No. 1, E flat, opus 20; No. 2, D minor, opus
49; No. 3, C minor, opus 78; No. 4, "Consecration of Tones," F, opus 86;
No. 5, C minor, opus 102; No. 6, "Historical symphony," G, opus 116; No.
7, "The Earthly and Heavenly in Men's Lives," for two orchestras, C, opus
121; No. 8, G minor, opus 137; No. 9, "The Seasons," B minor, opus 143;
eight overtures, 17 violin concertos and concertinas, 15 violin duets, 33
string quartets, 8 quintets, four double quartets, 5 pianoforte trios, 2
sextets, an octet and a nonet, and many songs. Schletterer's catalogue of
his works (published by Breitkopf and Härtel) carries the opus numbers
up to 154, many of the _opera_ embracing six compositions, and there are
a dozen compositions without opus numbers, among which are some of his
operas and oratorios. In all he left over two hundred works, in all fields
of composition.
It is difficult for us at this day to fairly estimate the importance
of Spohr as a figure in musical history. Dates show us that his finest
works chanced to see the light about the same time as the over-shadowing
masterpieces of Weber and Mendelssohn. Thus "Faust" produced in 1818, was
eclipsed by "Der Freischütz," in 1821, and his "Calvary" (1835) by "St.
Paul" (1836). His "Last Judgment" alone had a free field for a time. But
though we with over half a century's perspective find the masterworks
of Weber and Mendelssohn still in the foreground, while Spohr recedes
into the middle distance, the contemporaries of these composers saw them
standing apparently shoulder to shoulder at the front of the picture.
Spohr's influence upon those who lived when he did was very considerable,
and, more than that, there are certain features of his style, which,
it cannot be doubted, presented themselves as attractive models to his
immediate followers along the path of musical progress.
Believing himself to be a disciple of Mozart, and striving to preserve
in his writings the suave beauty and sculpturesque repose of the Mozart
style, Spohr was at heart a romanticist, was in the vanguard of the
new romantic movement in Germany, and established in his compositions
some of those peculiarities which have come to be regarded as special
characteristics of romantic utterance. While, therefore, he created no
school and, except in violin playing, has had no large following, he
exercised over his younger contemporaries a discernible influence, which
cannot be disregarded. That no one in our time looks to the works of Spohr
for models, does not obliterate the fact that he was an influential factor
in the development of that romantic school which has given us all that is
greatest in music since the death of Beethoven. One critic has well said
of him: "Spohr's noble sentimentality and warmth of expression excited
during his lifetime all the youth of Germany into an unusual enthusiasm.
The composer's influence is now somewhat less than it was, and indeed
latterly his productions have been underrated, but as all that is genuine
resists momentary bias, Spohr's works are once again coming to the fore.
In history, Spohr stands as a most important link between the old and
new romantic schools of German tonal art. As a tone-poet he possesses an
individuality so strongly marked, and so important an idiosyncrasy, that
he cannot like Marschner, Kreutzer, Reissiger, and others, be identified
with the school of Weber, but stands almost independent between the
last-named master and men like Mendelssohn and Schumann."
[Illustration: Fac-simile of Introduction to Spohr's fourth Double
Quartette in G minor. Original in possession of the Musical Library at
Dresden.]
The special feature of his style, which the critic just quoted calls an
"important idiosyncrasy," was his mastery of chromatic modulations. The
use of chromatic harmonies is characteristic of the romantic school, its
further development being seen in the "Tristan und Isolde" of Wagner.
It may be well to add, for the further enlightenment of the lay reader,
that chromatic modulation is the secret of that flexibility of style and
largeness of tonal atmosphere which are found in Wagner's works; and for
the first determined movement in this direction we must thank Spohr.
Nevertheless, Spohr's use of chromatic modulations was wholly unlike
that of later composers. As Emil Naumann says, "If Salieri is justified
in saying of certain composers, who use venturesome skips in their
modulations, that they are like a man who jumps through the window when
the door is open, we may well say of Spohr that he passes the open door
at least six times before he decides upon entering." This circumlocution
is unquestionably the result of Spohr's endeavor to place upon his
natural impulses the curb of the Mozartean polish. The outcome of his
self-restraint is the reduction of his operas to a dead level of sweetness
that becomes wearisome.
It was this never-ceasing mellifluous quality that forced itself upon
the attention of Chorley and made even that eminent lover of Bellini
cry for something else besides candy. Says Chorley: "The most graceful
Italian garden, where 'grove nods to grove--each alley has its brother,'
is not arranged with a more perpetual reference to reflexion, parallel,
reply, repetition, than the largest or the least piece of handiwork put
forth by this arithmetically orderly composer. Further, Dr. Spohr's
vocal ideas and phrases have, for the most part, a certain suavity and
flow, belonging to the good school of graceful cantabile, eminently
commendable, when not indisputably charming. But it is difficult, nay,
I may say at once, impossible, to cite any motive from his pen, which,
by its artless vivacity, seizes and retains the ear; and there are few
of his melodies that do not recall better tunes by better men." This
sweet level of cantilena undoubtedly also impressed itself on Schumann,
who was expressing his admiration of Spohr when he said: "As he looks at
everything as though through tears, his figures run into each other like
formless, etherial shapes, for which we can scarcely find a name."
In fine Spohr's works reveal to us a man who was deficient in personal
force because he was not a creative genius, but who exerted all the
influence of an original mind upon his contemporaries because he was
wholly at heart and almost wholly in practice in touch with a movement
new and absorbing. If Spohr had possessed real creative genius, his
devotion to Mozart as a model would have dwindled before the incitements
of the movement toward national romanticism which was agitating German
literature and art. His yearning toward the freedom and infinite
possibilities of chromatic harmonies brought him into direct conflict with
the polished symmetry, the veneration for a set form and a conventional
distribution of keys, of the classic period of Mozart. Had he been a man
of aggressive individuality he would not have made the mistake of putting
an intellectual curb on his emotional impulses, but would have spoken
according to the promptings of his heart.
But Spohr, though earnest in his purposes and intolerant of all that was
not sincere in art, was altogether of too amiable a nature to rudely cross
the Rubicon and seize upon the new territory. He was among those who saw
the promised land, who felt the embrace of its atmosphere, and who yet
hesitated upon the borders. The trumpet call of modern romanticism was
sounded in 1821 when Vogl made Schubert's "Erl King" known to Germany,
and in the same year Weber thrilled the hearts of his countrymen by
giving them a national opera, "Der Freischütz," whose story, like that
of Schubert's song, was taken from the folk-lore of the people. Spohr
followed these leaders in making use of the national literatures as in
"Faust," and the tales of the fireside, as in "Zemire und Azor"; but he
emasculated his music in his endeavor to cling to the style of a period
which had terminated. What might have been a style leading directly into
the restless eloquence of the Wagnerian diction became a "lingering
sweetness, long drawn out," and it was reserved for Weber, who had the
necessary force, the resistless energy of creative power, to become the
founder of true German opera and the artistic progenitor of Richard Wagner.
Wagner showed a warm appreciation of Spohr. He expressed his admiration
for the composer in a letter to a Dresden friend written from Paris, in
1860, when he was preparing to produce "Tannhäuser" in the French capital.
He wrote thus: "Almost simultaneously I lost by death two venerable men
most worthy of respect. The death of one came home to the whole musical
world, which deplores the loss of Ludwig Spohr. I leave it to that world
to estimate what wealth of power, how noble a productiveness departed
with the master's death. To me it is a painful reminder that with him
departed the last of that company of noble, earnest musicians whose youth
was directly illuminated by the glowing sun of Mozart and who like vestals
fed the flame received from him with touching fidelity and protected it
against all storms and winds on their chaste hearths. This lovely office
preserved the man pure and noble; and if I were to undertake to express
in a single phrase what Spohr proclaimed to me with such ineradicable
impressiveness, I would say: He was an earnest, upright master of his
art. The 'handle' of his life was faith in his art; and his greatest
refreshment flowed from the potency of this belief. And this earnest faith
emancipated him from all personal pettiness. All that was entirely foreign
to him he severely let alone without attacking it or persecuting it. This
was the coldness and brusqueness with which he was so often charged. That
which was comprehensible to him (and the composer of 'Jessonda' may be
credited with a deep, fine feeling for everything beautiful), that he
loved and cherished, without circumlocution and with zeal, so soon as he
recognized one thing in it--seriousness, a serious intention toward art.
Herein lay the bond which attached him in his old age to the new endeavors
in art. He could remain a stranger to it, but not an enemy. Honor to our
Spohr; venerate his memory! Let us imitate his example."
Another feature of Spohr's music which calls for mention is his
predilection for a programme. He was a believer in the ability of the
composer to convey his emotions through the medium of absolute music
to the hearer. His "Consecration of Tones" symphony, for instance, is
an attempt to depict in music the part which music plays in life and
nature--an attempt not wholly successful. But these labors give Spohr a
place among the founders of modern romantic writing for orchestra, and
as such he must be respected. His chamber music is distinguished by the
general characteristics of his style, and by a beautiful clearness of
construction.
As a composer of violin music and as a performer on the instrument Spohr
exercised influence which is still felt. His pupils were Hubert Ries, St.
Lubin, David, Bott, Blagrove, Kömpel and C. L. Bargheer, all players of
note. David was the teacher of Wilhelmj, whose Doric style preserved all
forcible simplicity and repose of the Spohr manner. Spohr's playing was
based on the solid principles of the Mannheim school, modified somewhat
by the style of Rode, for whom Spohr had a great and well-grounded
admiration. But, as we should expect, Spohr in his maturity arrived
at the possession of a style which was wholly the product of his own
individuality. The fundamental and vital characteristic of his playing was
his treatment of the violin as a singing voice. He played with immense
breadth and purity of tone, with subtle delicacy of touch, and with
exquisite refinement of phrasing. He had no taste for the free style of
bowing cultivated by Paganini and was opposed to anything approaching the
_saltato_. He had a large hand and was thus enabled to execute difficult
passages of double stopping with accuracy.
Violin technics have been developed so much since Spohr's time that his
compositions do not present alarming difficulties to contemporaneous
performers. Nevertheless, they were sufficiently difficult at the time of
their production, and they remain among the acceptable works for violin.
His concertos--at any rate, the best of them--are heard occasionally
in concert rooms to-day, not without pleasure, though they are open to
those objections which have been made against his operatic and orchestral
music. His earlier concertos show the immediate influence of Viotti and
Rode, but his later works were the most valuable contribution that had
been made to the literature of the violin, except the Beethoven concerto
up to the time when Spohr ceased to compose them. Indeed Spohr must be
credited with fully as earnest an endeavor to raise the violin concerto
from the level of a mere show piece to that of a serious and artistic
composition as either Beethoven or Mendelssohn. Paul David has rightly
said: "It was mainly owing to the sterling musical worth of Spohr's violin
compositions that the great qualities of the classical Italian and the
Paris schools have been preserved to the present day, and have prevented
the degeneration of violin-playing.... He set a great example of purity
of style and legitimate treatment of the instrument--an example which has
lost none of its force in the lapse of more than half a century."
[Illustration: Signature]
[Illustration: FRESCO IN VIENNA OPERA HOUSE.