1853
Schumann's article 'New Paths'--Johannes in Hanover--Sonatas in C
major and F minor--Visit to Leipzig--First publications--Julius
Otto Grimm--Return to Hamburg viâ Hanover--Lost Violin
Sonata--Songs--Marxsen's influence as teacher.
On October 28 Schumann's article appeared in the _Neue Zeitschrift für
Musik_. Brahms seems to have read it for the first time in Hanover,
whither, in pursuance of the plans formed in the summer between himself
and Joachim, he accompanied his friend from Düsseldorf. Its contents
were so unexpected, and their influence on Brahms' career was so
far-reaching, that, though it may already be familiar to many readers,
it seems right to quote it _in extenso_.
'NEW PATHS.
'Years have passed--almost as many in number as those dedicated by
me to the previous editorship of this journal, namely, ten--since I
appeared on this scene so rich to me in remembrances. Often, in
spite of arduous productive activity, I have felt tempted; many new
and considerable talents have appeared, a fresh musical energy has
seemed to announce itself through many of the earnest artists of
the present time,[36] even though their works are, for the most
part, known to a limited circle only. I have thought, watching the
path of these chosen ones with the greatest sympathy, that after
such a preparation someone must and would suddenly appear, destined
to give ideal presentment to the highest expression of the time,
who would bring us his mastership, not in process of development,
but would spring forth like Minerva fully armed from the head of
Jove. And he is come, a young blood by whose cradle graces and
heroes kept watch. He is called Johannes Brahms, came from Hamburg,
where he has worked in obscure tranquillity, trained in the most
difficult laws of art by an excellent and enthusiastic teacher, and
was lately introduced to me by an honoured, well-known master.[47]
He bore all the outward signs that proclaim to us, "This is one of
the elect." Sitting at the piano, he proceeded to reveal to us
wondrous regions. We were drawn into circles of ever deeper
enchantment. His playing, too, was full of genius, and transformed
the piano into an orchestra of wailing and jubilant voices. There
were sonatas, more veiled symphonies--songs, whose poetry one would
understand without knowing the words, though all are pervaded by a
deep song-melody,--single pianoforte pieces, partly demoniacal, of
the most graceful form,--then sonatas for violin and
piano--quartets for strings--and every one so different from the
rest that each seemed to flow from a separate source. And then it
was as though he, like a tumultuous stream, united all into a
waterfall, bearing a peaceful rainbow over the rushing waves, met
on the shore by butterflies' fluttering, and accompanied by
nightingales' voices.
'If he will sink his magic staff in the region where the capacity
of masses in chorus and orchestra can lend him its powers, still
more wonderful glimpses into the mysteries of the spirit-world will
be before us. May the highest genius strengthen him for this, of
which there is the prospect, since another genius, that of modesty,
also dwells within him. His companions greet him on his first
course through the world, where, perhaps, wounds may await him, but
laurels and palms also; we bid him welcome as a strong champion.
'There is in all times a secret union of kindred spirits. Bind
closer the circle, ye who belong to it, that the truth of art may
shine ever clearer, spreading joy and blessing through the world.
'R. S.'
Such was the proclamation by which Schumann, carried away by the
impulsive generosity of his nature, designed to facilitate the entrance
into the jealous musical world of the composer of twenty, whose gifts
had not been tested by the publication of a single composition, whose
name was hardly known to rumour.
'It is doubtful,' says Mason, 'if, up to that time, any article had
made such a sensation through musical Germany. I remember how
utterly the Liszt circle in Weimar were astounded at it. It was at
first, no doubt, an obstacle in Brahms' way, but, as it resulted in
stirring up great rivalry between two opposing parties, it
eventually contributed much to his final success.'
In sober truth, Brahms' worst enemy could scarcely have weighted him
with a heavier mantle of immediate difficulty. It made his name an easy
subject of ridicule to those who would in any case have been inclined to
regard a new-comer with incredulity; it drew upon him the sceptical
attention of others who might have been prepared to receive him with
indifference or indulgence; it was calculated to awaken extravagant
expectations in the minds of some whom it disposed to be his friends.
The musical world generally, adopted an attitude of hostile expectancy,
and this was shared especially by the 'Murls,'[38] as the young
satellites of Liszt styled themselves. Their 'Padisha,' Liszt himself,
could afford to be more or less indifferent, though he was not
unobservant. 'Avez-vous lu l'article de Schumann dans le dernier numéro
de Brendel?' he says, writing on November 1 to Bülow, who replies on the
5th, alluding to supposed Brahms resemblances: 'Mozart-Brahms ou
Schumann-Brahms ne trouble point du tout la tranquillité de mon sommeil.
Il y a une quinzaine d'années que Schumann a parlé en des termes
tout-à-fait analogues du génie de W. Sterndale Bennett. Joachim, du
reste, connait Brahms, de même l'ingermanique Reményi'.'
What Brahms' own feelings were on reading the paper cannot be difficult
of conjecture. Joy and bewilderment, gratitude and dismay, must have
struggled within him for mastery. The steady sense of proportion which
was one of his life-long characteristics, the consciousness of the
almost crushing weight of artistic responsibility thus thrust upon him
at the outset of his career, must have conflicted severely with his
natural loyalty and his delight at having won from Schumann such an
overflowing measure of approval. To a man of weaker moral fibre, the
temptation to overmuch exaltation or undue depression might have proved
more than perilous. Brahms, however, was made of stuff that enabled him
to face the situation, to accept it, and finally to triumph over it, and
the means which he used are the only means that can enable even genius
to win the kind of victory that he obtained. They were unswerving
loyalty and single-hearted devotion to an exalted purpose.
The matter of the selection of works to be submitted for the approval of
the publishers was much discussed both before and after the departure of
Joachim and Johannes from Düsseldorf, with the result that Schumann,
wrote on November 3, to Dr. Härtel, and proposed for publication; as Op.
1, String Quartet; 2, Set of six Songs; 3, Pianoforte Scherzo; 4, Second
set of six Songs; 5, Pianoforte Sonata in C major. He hoped, he said, to
arrive at an understanding by which, whilst the young composer would
derive an immediate pecuniary advantage, the publishers would not run
too much risk, and he suggested that if the sale of the works should,
after five years, have realized expectations, Brahms should then receive
further proportionate remuneration. He proposed as first payments; ten
Louis-d'ors (about £9 10s.) each, for the quartet and sonata, eight
Louis-d'ors (about £7 12s.) for the scherzo, six (£5 14s.) for each of
the two sets of songs--in all about £38. Should these proposals meet Dr.
Härtel's views, he would put Brahms into direct communication with him
in order that the works might be submitted for his consideration.
'He is an intimate of Joachim's in Hanover, where he proposes to
spend the winter. Joachim has written an extremely fine overture to
Hamlet, and an equally original and effective concerto for violin
and orchestra, which I can recommend to you with the warmest
sympathy.'[39]
Schumann's kindness did not stop here. He sent a sympathetic note to
Jakob Brahms at home in Hamburg, tidings of which, and of the rejoicing
family circle, just established in a new dwelling at No. 7
Lilienstrasse, were forwarded by the father to the young musician at
Hanover. Dr. Härtel did not delay in sending word that he would be glad
to see the manuscripts, for on November 9, Schumann wrote him a letter
of thanks for his favourable reply, and added:
'I will write to-day to Brahms, and beg him to go as soon as
possible to Leipzig to introduce his compositions to you himself.
His playing belongs essentially to his music. I do not remember to
have heard such original tone effects before.'
Dr. Härtel's note was forwarded to Hanover by Schumann in a letter to
Joachim with the words: Give the enclosed to Johannes. He must go to
Leipzig; persuade him to do this, or they will get a wrong idea of his
works; he must play them himself. This seems to me very important.'
After relating the arrangements pending with the publisher, he adds:
'Once again, pray urge him to go to Leipzig for a week;' and concludes:
'Now good-bye, dear friend. Write again before our Dutch journey, and
tell Johannes, the lazy-bones, to do the same.'
Johannes had, in fact, not written to Schumann since leaving Düsseldorf,
and he still waited, letting nearly three weeks go by before thanking
the master for his article in the _Neue Zeitschrift_. Perhaps this fact
may be regarded as confirmation of the surmise that he had not read
Schumann's prophetic announcement with feelings of unmixed satisfaction,
but if it be so, he allowed no other sign to appear of such a
possibility. He very anxiously reconsidered his choice of works for
publication, however, and before receiving Härtel's letter to Schumann,
had forwarded to Leipzig a somewhat different selection from that
decided on at Düsseldorf, withholding from it the string quartet.
Having settled this matter as far as he could to his satisfaction, and
brought himself to consent to Joachim's persuasions that he should go to
Leipzig for a week, his attitude to Schumann remained one of unmixed
gratitude and affection, as may be read in the following letter:[40]
'HONOURED MASTER,
'You have made me so immensely happy that I cannot attempt to thank
you in words. God grant that my works may soon prove to you how
much your affection and kindness have encouraged and stimulated me.
The public praise you have bestowed on me will have fastened
general expectation so exceptionally upon my performances that I do
not know how I shall be able to do some measure of justice to it.
Above all it obliges me to take the greatest care in the selection
of what is to be published. I do not propose to include either of
my trios, and think of choosing as Op. 1 and 2 the Sonatas in C and
F sharp minor, as Op. 3 Songs, and as Op. 4 the Scherzo in E flat
minor. You will think it natural that I should try with all my
might to disgrace you as little as possible.
'I put off writing to you so long because I had sent the four
things I have mentioned to Breitkopf and Härtel, and wished to wait
for the answer, to be able to tell you the result of your
recommendation. Your last letter to Joachim, however, informs us of
this, and so I have only to write to you that I shall go, as you
advise, within the next few days (probably to-morrow) to Leipzig.
'Further I wish to tell you that I have copied out my F minor
Sonata, and made considerable alterations in the finale. I have
also improved the violin sonata. I should like also to thank you a
thousand times for the dear portrait of yourself that you have sent
me, as well as for the letter you have written to my father. By it
you have made a pair of good people happy, and for life Your
BRAHMS.'
'HANOVER, _16 Nov. 1853_.'
The reader may have noted that the work chosen by Brahms with which to
introduce himself, not only to Joachim, but to the Deichmann circle, to
Wasielewsky, and to Schumann himself, was the C major Sonata now known
as Op. 1; and the natural inference to be drawn, that he considered it
his best as it was his latest achievement, is confirmed by his reply to
Louise Japha when she asked him, later on, why he had numbered his
scherzo, a much earlier work, as Op. 4. 'When one first shows one's
self,' he said, 'it is to the head and not the heels that one wishes to
draw attention.'
That the composer was not mistaken, if we may thus take his own estimate
of his published works by implication, may be safely affirmed. Sharing
the fundamental characteristics, technical as well as temperamental, of
the earlier written work of the same form--unity of plan, wealth of
resource, impetuous vigour, dreamy romance, a breath that is repeatedly
suggestive of the folk-lore in which the composer loved to steep his
imagination--the Sonata in C gives evidence that the process of
crystallization had already begun which was to distinguish Brahms'
development towards maturity, which, indeed, did not stop at maturity,
but may be traced continuously down to the close of his career. This
process is to be observed, as regards the work in question, in the
themes of the principal movements, which are not only more pregnant in
themselves, but are presented in more concentrated form than those of
the Sonata in F sharp minor. That the first theme of the opening
movement bears traces of the composer's study of Beethoven's Sonata in B
flat, Op. 106, is of no great consequence. The question of musical
reminiscence is so frequently misunderstood that it may be well to
devote a few words to it on the threshold of our narrative of Brahms'
career as a composer, which will take but little account of such
occasional examples as may easily be found in his works--in the opening
bars of the scherzo of Op. 5, the second subject of the first allegro of
Op. 73, and so forth. No one would affirm that reminiscences are in
themselves desirable, but they are almost inevitable, and the important
question is, not whether this or that rhythmical figure, this or that
passing melodic progression, may be found anticipated in some earlier
work, but whether it has been so used the second time as to have become
an integral part of a composition with a distinct individuality of its
own. The parentage of Brahms' sonata Op. 1, as, indeed, of every work
published by him, is loudly proclaimed by each one of its pages. The
opinion entertained by our composer, when in his maturity, of the
self-satisfied reminiscence-hunter, is well illustrated by his reply to
a conceited acquaintance who was courageous enough, on an occasion late
in the seventies, to draw his attention to a transient resemblance in
one of his great works to a passage of Mendelssohn. 'Some booby has
already been telling me something of the kind.' (So was hab' ich schon
von einem Rindvieh gehört), he answered. 'Such things are always
discovered by the donkeys,' he said one day to a friend.
That the C major Sonata has been heard more frequently than that
numbered as Op. 2, and is still occasionally to be found in a
concert-programme, may be accepted both as evidence and result of its
advance upon the Sonata in F sharp minor. The step from the C major to
the F minor Op. 5, is, however, more remarkable. In this work we find
that the 'wild wing-flapping' of which Schumann wrote has been calmed by
the faithful guardian, not only without detriment, but with strange
increase of strength and certainty, to the 'soaring power.' The progress
shown in the facility of expressing the idea seems almost to have
reacted on the idea to be expressed. No work in the entire catalogue of
Brahms' compositions more convincingly exhibits the composer's title to
rank as a seer of visions. In this one respect, in its exalted
imaginative energy, it may almost be associated with the wonderful first
symphony. Truly, it requires an interpreter who can decipher the vision,
and hearers capable of receiving the interpretation. In spite, however,
of the difficulties it presents both to listener and performer, as well
as of its defects of immaturity, this sonata, which was a favourite with
von Bülow, has grown very gradually into some measure of general
acceptance, and it seems not impossible that it may some day be
frequently heard in the concert-room. It is the only one of Brahms'
extant works which was submitted to Schumann's criticism whilst in
process of completion. In consequence of a mischance presently to be
related, the violin sonata referred to in the letter quoted above was
never published.
Amongst the young Schumannites who had been roused by Joachim's and
Dietrich's accounts of Brahms to an extreme expectation, which had not
been lessened by the appearance of Schumann's essay, was one Heinrich
von Sahr, a musician from choice rather than necessity, who lived at
Leipzig in the intimacy of the notabilities of its artistic circle. He
had written in October to Dietrich:
'Send me your real opinion of Brahms. I am dreadfully anxious to
know him.... What is he like personally? Ah, write! do please write
soon and tell me what you think of him. Is he still in Düsseldorf?
What is his music like? What has he composed?'
Von Sahr was the first person in Leipzig to make Brahms' acquaintance,
and, on the day after his arrival, insisted that he should leave his
hotel to become his guest. He introduced him to Mendelssohn's old
friend, the celebrated concertmeister, David; to Julius Rietz, conductor
of the Gewandhaus concerts; to the personal acquaintance of Dr. Härtel;
to Wieck and his daughter Marie (Frau Schumann's father and sister); to
Ernst Ferdinand Wenzel, one of Schumann's special friends; to Julius
Otto Grimm, a young musician whose room was on the same staircase as his
own, and who soon became numbered amongst Johannes' particular chums;
and, generally speaking, to the entire Leipzig circle.
'He is perfect!' he exclaims in a letter to Albert; 'the days since
he has been here are amongst the most delightful in my
recollection. He answers so exactly to my idea of an artist. And as
a man!--But enough, you know him better than I do....
Unfortunately, he can only stay till Friday. He has, however,
promised, and I think he will keep his promise, to come again
soon.'
There was a performance in von Sahr's rooms one morning, by Brahms and
David, of the sonata for pianoforte and violin, and performances on the
same and the following days of the C major Sonata and other solos, with
the now customary result. Johannes also writes to Albert:
'The Härtels have received me with immense kindness.... If our
master is still in Düsseldorf, tell him this, and say how highly I
honour him, how much I love him and how grateful I should like to
be.'
Brahms left Leipzig on Friday, November 25, in Grimm's company, for a
few days' visit to the Countess Ida von Hohenthal, a lady living on her
estate not far from Leipzig, who was devoted to music, liked to receive
young artists, and always had a particularly warm welcome for Grimm and
his friends. Her name, which appears on the title-page of Brahms' Sonata
in F minor, Op. 5, is of interest from its association with this period
of the composer's début in the circle of the Leipzig notabilities, whose
number was swelled, during the first ten days of December, 1853, by the
presence of Berlioz from Paris, and that of Liszt, supported by a body
of his 'Murls,' from Weimar.
The occasion of the assembling of the members of the New-German party in
the city of Leipzig was one of great importance to them. Berlioz had
been invited to conduct a selection of his works within the precincts of
the classical Gewandhaus itself, and the second part of the subscription
concert of December 1, was to be devoted to the following compositions:
'The Flight into Egypt,' 'Harold in Italy,' 'The Young Shepherd of
Brittany,' the fairy Scherzo from 'Romeo and Juliet,' selections from
'Faust,' and the overture to the 'Carnaval Romain.' Brahms and Grimm
returned in time to be present with their friends on the occasion, which
was made lively by the demonstrations and counter-demonstrations of two
conflicting parties in the audience, but seems to have resulted as
satisfactorily for the Weimarites as they could reasonably have
expected. Brahms and his messiahship were discussed, and none too
gently handled, at a supper-party at which Berlioz, Liszt, Gouvy, and
others of their set, met after the concert, but the hostile attitude
adopted towards the young musician was not enduring. The personal animus
which Schumann's essay had aroused against him was generally disarmed,
as he became known in Leipzig, by the attraction of his unassuming
manner--the more speedily, perhaps, because it was felt that his modesty
rested upon an underlying feeling of confidence in himself and his
purpose. He at once showed his indifference to party jealousies, and
perhaps ran some risk of offending his companions, by calling on Liszt,
who, with Berlioz, Raff, Laub, Reményi, and others, was staying at the
Hôtel de Bavière, and it will presently be shown that Liszt reconsidered
his position to the young musician towards whom public attention had
been so suddenly and strikingly directed.
Johannes presented himself on the Sunday (December 4) following the
Gewandhaus concert at two houses always open to visitors on the first
day of the week, into both of which we are enabled to penetrate by means
of detailed accounts written immediately after the occurrences they
describe. One is contained in a volume by Helene von Vesque;[41] the
other in an 'open letter' written by Arnold Schloenbach to the editor
Brendel, for publication in the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_ of December
9, 1853.
Hedwig, younger daughter of the wealthy house of Salamon, was not only
possessed of literary and artistic talents, but of a magnetic
personality which enabled her to form many distinguished friendships.
She was long intimate with the families of Mendelssohn, Schumann,
Schleinitz, Hauptmann, and other leaders of musical Leipzig, knew
Joachim as a boy, and was for some time looked upon by her circle as the
probable future wife of the Danish composer, Niels Gade. At the time of
which we write she had nearly completed her thirty-second year, but her
marriage with the composer Franz von Holstein did not take place until
nearly two years later. The extracts from her diaries and letters
contained in Helene von Vesque's book include several of interest to
musical readers. Of young Brahms she says:
'Yesterday Herr von Sahr brought me a young man who held in his
hand a letter from Joachim. He sat down opposite me, this young
hero of the day, this young messiah of Schumann's, fair,
delicate-looking, who, at twenty, has clearly-cut features free
from all passion. Purity, innocence, naturalness, power, and
depth--this indicates his being. One is so inclined to think him
ridiculous and to judge him harshly on account of Schumann's
prophecy; but all is forgotten; one only loves and admires him. In
the evening he came to a small party at Elizabeth's [Hedwig's
sister, Frau von Seebach].... He placed himself at a little table
near me, and spoke so brightly and continuously that his friends at
the other table could not be surprised enough, for he is generally
extremely quiet and dreamy. We had plenty of points in common:
Joachim, the Wehners, our mutual favourite poets, Jean Paul and
Eichendorf, and his, Hoffmann and Schiller.... He vehemently urged
me to read "Kabale and Liebe" and the "Serapionsbrüder," but above
all Hoffmann's musical novels, of which he spoke with real
enthusiasm. "I spend all my money on books; books are my greatest
pleasure. I have read as much as I possibly could since I was quite
little, and have made my way without guidance from the worst to the
best. I devoured innumerable romances of chivalry as a child until
the 'Robbers' fell into my hands, of which I knew nothing except
that it had been written by a great poet. I asked for something
more by the same Schiller, however, and so made gradual progress."
He speaks in the same fresh way of music, and when I said to him,
"You will not care so much about music when you have a post as
music-director or professor," he answered smiling, but quite
decidedly: "Yes; I shall not take a post."
'And with all this independent strength, a thin boy's voice that
has not yet changed! and a child's countenance that any girl might
kiss without blushing. And the purity and firmness of his whole
being, which guarantee that the spoiled world will not be able to
overcome this man; for, as he has been able to bear his elevation
from obscurity to the perilous position of an idol without losing
any of his modesty, or even his naïveté, so God, who created such
a beautiful nature will continue to help him!'
Schloenbach's 'open letter' is written in too inflated a style to
deserve lengthy quotation, but one or two extracts may be welcome as
describing our composer's first semi-public appearance in Leipzig. Franz
Brendel's 'at home' on the particular Sunday in question was a more than
usually brilliant function. 'Composers, teachers, virtuosi, lyric and
dramatic poets, romancists, booksellers, critics and journalists--even
preachers--clever, artistic women, charming girls,' were gathered in the
editor's reception-rooms, and one artist after another performed for the
edification of the distinguished audience. A harp solo executed by
Jeanette Paul, and rewarded by a double handshake from Berlioz; one on
the pianoforte by Krause; a number of vocal contributions by the great
tenor Götze--songs by Schumann and Wagner, and, in association with the
accomplished amateur and Wagner enthusiast Frau Lily Steche, the famous
'Lohengrin' duet--formed the earlier part of the impromptu programme.
'The last performance of all was of special interest. Following
maturity came immaturity, but immaturity of rare endowment and rich
promise; immaturity already considerably defined, because possessed
of individual power and true originality. We listened now to the
young Brahms from Hamburg, referred to the other day in Schumann's
article in your journal. The article had, as you know, awakened
mistrust in numerous circles (perhaps in many cases only from
fear). At all events it had created a very difficult situation for
the young man, for its justification required the fulfilment of
great demands; and when the slender, fair youth appeared, so
deficient in presence, so shy, so modest, his voice still in
transitional falsetto, few could have suspected the genius that had
already created so rich a world in this young nature. Berlioz had,
however, already discovered in his profile a striking likeness to
Schiller, and conjectured his possession of a kindred virgin soul,
and when the young genius unfolded his wings, when, with
extraordinary facility, with inward and outward energy, he
presented his scherzo, flashing, rushing, sparkling; when,
afterwards, his andante swelled towards us in intimate, mournful
tones, we all felt: Yes, here is a true genius, and Schumann was
right; and when Berlioz, deeply moved, embraced the young man and
pressed him to his heart, then, dear friend, I felt myself affected
by such a sacred tremour of enthusiasm as I have seldom
experienced.... If you should smile now and then whilst reading my
letter, remember that it is the poet who has spoken, and that it
was yourself who invited him to do so.
'LEIPZIG,
'_December 5, 1853_.'
It must not be forgotten, in connection with these effusive lines, that
the party circumstances of the time and the excitement caused by
Schumann's article made Brahms' appearance amongst the guests of
Brendel, who had identified himself with the New-Germans, an event of
importance, to be regretted by the younger and more excitable of the
Leipzigers, and welcomed by the Weimarites. It no doubt contributed to
the satisfaction expressed by Liszt, in a letter to Bülow, on his return
to Weimar after a second appearance of Berlioz in Leipzig, and the
sympathetic tone of this communication clearly shows that the motive of
policy which dictated it was supported by a more personal feeling of
approbation. He says on December 14:
'Je viens de passer quelques jours à Leipzig, où j'ai assisté aux
deux concerts de Berlioz le 1er et le 11 de ce mois. Le résultat
d'opinion à été en somme très favorable à Berlioz.'
And two days later:
'Écrivez-moi de Hanovre, où vous ferez bien de passer une quinzaine
de jours. Vous y trouverez Brahms auquel je m'intéresse sincèrement
et qui s'est conduit avec tact et bon goût envers moi durant les
quelques jours que je viens de passer à Leipzig en l'honneur de
Berlioz. Aussi l'ai-je invité plusieurs fois à dîner et me plais à
croire que ses "Neue Bahnen" (New Paths) le rapprocheront davantage
de Weimar par la suite. Vous serez content de la Sonate en Ut dont
j'ai parcouru les épreuves à Leipzig et qu'il m'avait déjà montré
ici. C'est précisément celui de ses ouvrages qui m'avait donné la
meilleure idée de son talent de composition. Mille et mille tendres
amitiés à Joachim, auquel j'ai fait demander sa partition de
l'ouverture de Hamlet par Brahms et par Cossmann. Rappelez-lui que
je désire beaucoup la faire exécuter à la prochaine représentation
et la maintenir pour les représentations subséquentes.'[42]
Brahms was persuaded to make his first public appearance in Leipzig at
one of the David Quartet Concerts, which took place regularly in the
small hall of the Gewandhaus. The programme of the occasion consisted of
Mendelssohn's D major Quartet, Brahms' C major Sonata and E flat minor
Scherzo, and Mozart's G minor Quintet. The reception of the new works by
the audience was not discouraging, in spite of the absence from them of
the qualities that go to the making of an immediate popular success, and
most of the critics treated the composer sympathetically. Some of them,
not content with writing about his music, discussed his appearance, and
one described his 'Raphael head.'
'In the second Quartet concert, which took place on December 17,'
says 'Hoplit' [Dr. Richard Pohl, a writer in the interests of the
Weimar school, who was on the staff of the _Neue Zeitschrift_],
'Johannes Brahms presented himself to the public with his Sonata in
C major and his Scherzo. Schumann's article caused much division
amongst the uninitiated, but all doubt has been dispelled by
Brahms' public appearance, and we concur with all our heart, and
with the warmest satisfaction, in Schumann's opinion of the
unassuming and richly-endowed young artist. There is something
forcible, something transporting, in the works which Brahms
performed the other evening. A ripeness rare in one so young, a
creative power springing spontaneously from a rich artist-mind, are
revealed in them. We find ourselves in the presence of one of those
highly-gifted natures, an artist by the grace of God. Some
roughnesses and angularities in the outward, very independent form
of Brahms' compositions may be overlooked for the sake of the
imposing beauty of their artistic aim. His modulations are often of
striking effect; they are frequently surprising, but always fine
and artistically justifiable. Brahms' spirit is in affinity with
the genius of Schumann. He will, advancing steadfastly and safely
along his "new paths," some day become what Schumann has predicted
of him, an epoch-making figure in the history of art.'
Stress was laid by the orthodox _Signale_ on the originality and
freshness of the composer's invention, on the significance of his
thematic material, and on his eminent gift for presenting his ideas in
varied and interesting forms. His facility in unexpected modulations was
noted, but, by this critic, not always approved. With regard to the
performance, 'much appeared more difficult to the executant than to the
creator, for the sonata is very hard to play, and Brahms is a better
composer than virtuoso.'
The composer's Leipzig successes had, indeed, been sufficient to enable
him to arrange with a second publisher, Bartolf Senff, for the
production of his sonata for violin and pianoforte, and of a third set
of songs, as Op. 5 and Op. 6, respectively. His satisfaction at the
remarkable turn in his affairs is summed up in a letter, overflowing
with happiness, to the master at Düsseldorf. The style of the address is
in allusion to the Schumanns' just completed brilliantly successful
concert-journey in Holland.
'MYNHEER DOMINE,
'Forgive him, whom you have made so boundlessly glad and happy, for
the jesting address. I have only the best and most satisfactory
news to relate.
'To your warm recommendation I owe my reception in Leipzig,
friendly beyond all expectation, and especially beyond all desert.
Härtels declared themselves ready, with great pleasure, to print my
first attempts. They are these: Op. 1, Sonata in C major; Op. 2,
Sonata in F sharp minor; Op. 3, Songs; Op. 4, Scherzo in E flat
minor.
'I delivered to Herr Senff for publication: Op. 5, Sonata in A
minor for Violin and Pianoforte; Op. 6, six Songs.
'May I venture to place Frau Schumann's name upon the title-page of
my second work? I scarcely dare to do so, and yet I should like so
much to offer you a little token of my respect and gratitude.
'I shall probably receive copies of my first things before
Christmas. With what feelings shall I then see my parents again
after nearly a year's absence. I cannot describe what is in my
heart when I think of it.
'May you never regret what you have done for me, may I become
really worthy of you. Your
'JOH. BRAHMS.'
The letter was written from Hanover, whither Johannes proceeded on the
20th, accompanied by Grimm, with whom the acquaintance of the first
Leipzig days had already ripened into an intimacy that remained one of
the closest of our composer's life. A treasured memorial of its
commencement is in the possession of Fräulein Marie Grimm--the original
manuscript of the set of six Songs, Op. 6, as arranged for publication,
with Brahms' autograph inscription on the title-page: 'Meinem lieben
Julius zur Erinnerung an Kreisler jun., 8 Dec., 1853.'
There was quite a reunion at Hanover, for Dietrich had come over by
Johannes' particular desire to meet him, and the four young men spent
two pleasant days in each other's society. Grimm now first made
acquaintance with Joachim, and remained behind to cultivate his
friendship when the two others departed. By the end of the week Johannes
was in his parents' arms.
It is not difficult to imagine something of the mother's feelings as she
welcomed back the long-absent Hannes, who had always been as the apple
of her eye, or to picture the simple preparations, the sweeping and
scouring, the polishing and decorating, with which she and Elise
anticipated his arrival; but who shall measure the father's joy on the
return of his young conquering hero? The swiftly-progressing successes
of Johannes' journey had been most literally Jakob's own personal
triumphs, vindicating emphatically every one of the stages of his
career; the obstinate disobedience of his boyhood, the pertinacious
struggle of his youth, the reckless adventure of his marriage. What
wonder that, as time went on, Johannes became to him as a sacred being
in whose presence he felt awed and unable to speak or act naturally, but
of whom, when alone with a sympathetic listener, he would talk
unweariedly by the hour, tears of joy running down his cheeks.
As to Johannes himself, the feelings he had not been able to describe in
his letter to Schumann were probably strong enough within his heart to
touch the joy of the first home embraces with a gravity that did not
immediately admit of speech. The first emotions over, however, an
exuberant mirthfulness asserted itself in the bearing of the happy young
fellow. He established at this time a custom from which he never
afterwards departed. The first visit paid by him after his arrival was
to Marxsen. One to the Cossels soon followed, and, on this occasion of
his return from a first real absence, he went the round of several
Lokals, where he had been accustomed to work regularly, and in his
lightness of heart flourished on some of the instruments that had been
the sign of his bondage, in very joy at his emancipation.
The radiance of this year's Christmastide in the little home where the
young genius dwelt for a few days, the simple, unspoiled child of loving
and beloved parents, might have been taken for granted. We possess an
assurance of it, however, in some words written by Johannes, at the end
of the year, to Schumann:
'HONOURED FRIEND,
'Herewith I venture to send you your first foster-children (which
are indebted to you for their world citizenship), very much
concerned as to whether they may rejoice in your unaltered
indulgence and affection. To me, they look in their new form much
too precise and timid, almost philistine indeed. I cannot accustom
myself to seeing the innocent sons of Nature in such decorous
clothing.
'I am looking forward immensely to seeing you in Hanover and being
able to tell you that my parents and I owe the most blissful time
of our lives to your and Joachim's too-great affection. I was
overjoyed to see my parents and teacher again, and have passed a
glorious time in their midst.
'I beg you to express the most cordial greetings to Frau Schumann
and your children of
'Your
'JOHANNES BRAHMS.
'HAMBURG, _in December, 1853_.'
As we have said in a previous chapter, the violin and pianoforte sonata
that was to have been published as Op. 5 was not given to the world. The
manuscript was mysteriously lost. How or by whose agency has never been
made clear. That Brahms delivered it to Senff for publication is
expressly stated in his letter to Schumann. The known circumstances of
the case lead to the conclusion that it was borrowed from the publisher
by Liszt during his Leipzig visit--no doubt with Brahms'
concurrence--for performance with Reményi at the Hôtel de Bavière, and
not returned. In a letter written by Liszt six months later to
Klindworth, who was giving concerts in England with Reményi, he says:
'Reményi does not answer me about the manuscript of Brahms' violin
sonata. Apparently he has taken it with him, for I have, to my
vexation, hunted three times through the whole of my music without
being able to find it. Do not forget to write to me about it in
your next letter, as Brahms wants the sonata for publication.'
There is a ring of vexation in these words which suggests that Liszt
felt responsible for the work. No trace of it was discovered, however,
until 1872, nineteen years after its disappearance, when, says Dietrich,
'whilst I was staying in Bonn to conduct my D minor Symphony,
Wasielewsky showed me a very beautifully copied violin part, and asked
me if I knew the handwriting. I immediately recognised it as that of
Brahms' first period. We regretted very much that the pianoforte part
was not to be found. It will have been the violin part of the lost
sonata.'
The works actually published, therefore, before and after the New Year
were--by Breitkopf and Härtel, the Sonatas in C, Op. 1, and in F sharp
minor, Op. 2, dedicated respectively to Joachim and Frau Schumann; the
set of Songs, Op. 3, dedicated to Bettina von Arnim, whose acquaintance
Brahms had made, through Joachim, during his visit to Hanover in
November; and the Scherzo, Op. 4, dedicated to Wenzel: and by Bartolf
Senff, the Sonata in F minor, Op. 5, dedicated to the Countess Ida von
Hohenthal, substituted for the lost work; and the set of Songs dedicated
to Louise and Minna Japha, Op. 6. Schumann presented a copy of the
songs, Op. 6, to the Japhas immediately on their publication, on which
he wrote: 'Dem Fräulein Japha, zum Andenken an das Weihnachtsfest, 1853,
als Vorbote des eigentlichen Gebers. R. Schumann' (To the Misses Japha,
in remembrance of the Christmas Festival, 1853, as forerunner of the
real giver).
In the two sets of songs, Op. 3 and 6, and in the third, Op. 7,
dedicated to Dietrich and published but little later, may already be
perceived the composer whose lyrics were destined to take their place in
the heart of the great German people as a unique portion of a peculiar
national treasure. Deeply original, absolutely sincere, of an
imagination that is angelic in its purity, feminine in its tenderness,
and virile in its reticent strength, Brahms' songs admit us to communion
with a rarely ideal nature, and the intuitive power of perfect
expression which marks some of his early lyrics anticipates the
experience of his later years. The beautiful 'O versenk dein Leid' will,
no doubt, always be treasured as the most exquisite example, in its
domain, of this early period of his fancy, but each of the three first
song collections contains one or more tone-poems to which the
music-lover returns with delight. Amongst them may be mentioned 'Der
Frühling' (Op. 6, No. 2) and 'Treue Liebe' and 'Heimkehr' (Op. 7, Nos. 1
and 6). The last-named little gem is the earliest written of the
published songs; unfortunately, it has only one verse.
The energy of imagination dwelling within Brahms' songs is often the
more striking from its concentration within the short form preferred by
the composer in the majority of instances. In it, as time went on, he
gave vivid expression to thoughts wistful or bright, playful or sombre,
naïve or deeply pondered; and whilst his lyrics are especially
characterized by the clear shaping of the song-melody, and the
distinctness of the harmonic foundations upon which it rests, many of
them derive an added distinction from a quiet significance in the
accompaniment, which, whilst helping the musical representation of a
poetic idea, never embarrasses the voice. In spite of their apparent
simplicity, the accompaniments are, however, frequently difficult both
to read and to perform.
It is to be said, generally, of Brahms' songs that they do not betray
the marked influence of either of the two great lyrical composers who
preceded him. They have no affinity with those of Schumann, and if many
of them share the fresh naturalness of Schubert's inspirations, this is
rather to be traced to a partiality for the folk-song, in which both
composers found an inexhaustible stimulus to their fancy. On the other
hand, in Brahms' songs we frequently meet the musician who has
penetrated so deeply into the art of Bach that it has germinated afresh
in his imagination, and placed him in possession of an idiom capable of
serving him in the expression of his complex individuality. Each song
bears the distinctive stamp of the composer's genius, though hardly two
resemble each other, and it would be difficult to point to one that
could be mistaken for the work of another musician.
The young Kreisler was in the habit of presenting his manuscripts, and
especially those of his songs, to intimate friends. Most of these gifts
bear his boyish, affectionate inscriptions, some only the date and place
of composition. 'Göttingen, July, 1853,' is written at the end of an
autograph copy of 'Ich muss hinaus' presented at Düsseldorf to the
Japhas. 'Weit über das Feld' has a friendly inscription in his hand to
the sisters. His manuscripts--probably the originals--of some of the
songs from Op. 3, notably 'O versenk' and 'In der Fremde,' the latter
dated 1852, were given 'To my dear Julius in kind remembrance' (J. O.
Grimm). Touching pictures arise in the mind as one looks at these pages,
some of them discoloured by time, of the young idealist with his girlish
face and long fair hair sitting at his night toil, his soul whole and in
his possession, his thoughts straining towards the early morning hours,
the only ones of the twenty-four which he was certain of being able to
devote to the loveliest inspirations of his muse. In the eager affection
of the inscriptions is to be read his bounding joy at his release; in
the devoted remembrance with which his gifts have been treasured may be
perceived one of the qualities of his personality which he, perhaps, but
little understood--the power of attracting the abiding love of loyal
friends.
It is now time to sum up the real significance in the life of Brahms of
the remarkable first concert-journey, the account of which has so long
occupied our attention, and this may be done in a very few words. The
journey was the transformation scene of his life. The obscure musician
who, having been guarded from the dangers of prodigy fame, had started
from Hamburg in April without prestige, without recommendations, without
knowledge of the world, its manners or its artifices, had passed from
the two or three provincial platforms on which he had appeared as
Reményi's accompanist, to present himself as pianist and composer in the
Leipzig Gewandhaus, and to return to his home in December the accepted
associate of the great musicians of the day; recognised by Weimar,
appreciated by Leipzig; encouraged by Berlioz and Liszt, claimed by
Schumann and Joachim. Before he had well begun to climb the steep hill
of reputation he had found himself transported to its summit. Starting
hardly as an aspirant to fame, he had come back the proclaimed heir to a
prophet's mantle. His life's horizon had been indefinitely widened, his
whole existence changed. Back again amid the familiar scenes of Hamburg,
the events of the past nine months must have seemed to him as the
visions of an enchanted dream.
To the wise and faithful friend in Altona the occurrences which had
startled the musical world had seemed in no wise astonishing.
'There was probably,' wrote Marxsen later to La Mara, 'but one man
who was not surprised--myself. I knew what Brahms had accomplished,
how comprehensive were his acquirements, what exalted talent had
been bestowed on him, and how finely its blossom was unfolding.
Schumann's recognition and admiration were, all the same, a great,
great joy to me; they gave me the rare satisfaction of knowing that
the teacher had perceived the right way to protect the
individuality of the talent, and to form it gradually to
self-dependence.'
These last words seem to indicate that here is a fitting opportunity for
the brief consideration of a question which has not seldom been raised,
and has received various answers, often biassed by prepossession. What
was Marxsen's share in the art of Brahms? A Brahms would have learned
what he did learn, if not from Marxsen then from someone else, has been
the opinion of some people to whose judgment respect is due. Such
influence as Marxsen had on Brahms' development was merely negative, is
the reply of others; and it has been affirmed, on the authority of Herr
Oberschulrath Wendt, that Brahms declared on one occasion that he had
learned nothing from his master.[43]
Without stopping to discuss whether it has been just to the memory
either of Brahms or of Marxsen to give the permanence and emphasis of
print to whatever depreciatory words Brahms may have let fall in an
unguarded moment to an intimate friend, it may safely be asserted that
if our composer fortunately became aware, at an early age, of what had
been the weak points of his master's teaching, he preserved, when at the
height of his mastership, a clear recognition and grateful appreciation
of the strong ones.
Marxsen has himself indicated, in the last sentence of the above
quotation from his letter, the two main purposes of his teaching, both
of which were attained by him in the case of Brahms with absolute
success. To have 'protected the individuality' of an endowment so
powerfully original as that of our composer might, perhaps, be regarded
as an easy achievement if taken alone; though even here it should be
remembered that Marxsen made himself responsible, when the affectionate
and impressionable Hannes was at a tender age, for his musical
education, and must, therefore, have been instrumental in directing his
creative energy to that study of the highest art by means of which it
developed to such good purpose. To have trained his talent to the
'self-dependence' it had attained by the time the young composer was
twenty, however, implies in the teacher a distinctness of aim, a
knowledge of method, an insight and originality, an active and potent
influence, which few will fail to attribute to Marxsen who have a real
acquaintance with the large works of Brahms' earliest period, written at
the time that his formal pupilage was drawing or, in the case of one
work, had just drawn, to its close.
Limitation of space prevents the possibility of giving here a detailed
description of Marxsen's methods of instruction, but, as some account of
their excellencies and shortcomings seems to be called for, it may be
said that as a teacher of free composition, and especially of the art of
building up the forms which may be studied in the works of Haydn,
Mozart, and Beethoven, he was great--the more so that he did not educate
his pupils merely by setting them to imitate the outward shape of
classical models. He began by teaching them to form a texture, by
training them radically in the art of developing a theme. Taking a
phrase or a figure from one or other of the great masters, he would
desire the pupil to exhibit the same idea in every imaginable variety of
form, and would make him persevere in this exercise until he had gained
facility in perceiving the possibilities lying in a given subject, and
ingenuity in presenting them. Pursuing the same method with material of
the pupil's own invention, he aimed at bringing him to feel, as by
intuition, whether a musical subject were or were not suitable for
whatever immediate purpose might be in view. The next step was that the
idea should be pursued not arbitrarily, but logically, to its
conclusion--a conclusion that was not, however, allowed to be a
hard-and-fast termination. Marxsen's pupils were taught to aim at making
their movements resemble an organic growth, in which each part owed its
existence to something that had gone before. 'Unity clothed in variety'
might have been his motto.
The strength and freedom of craftsmanship, the immense resource imparted
by such training, and the assistance lent by its earlier stages to the
later study of construction, hardly need pointing out, nor is it
necessary to dwell upon particular instances of its efficacy in the case
of Brahms. Every page of his instrumental music teems with
illustrations of the fruitfulness of his youthful studies; their result
lives in the very core of his technique, and to them may in great part
be traced, not only his mastery of form, but the elasticity which from
the first marks his essential adherence to the models of classical
tradition.
The severe course of apprenticeship in the art of free contrapuntal
writing to which Marxsen subjected his pupil, which furthered, and was
itself helped, by his training, in thematic development, is abundantly
evident in the movements of the three pianoforte sonatas, and the
estimation of the precise value especially of the two first of these
works is facilitated by some knowledge of the methods from which they
resulted. That Brahms, when at the summit of his mastership, expressed
his exact sense of his indebtedness to his teacher, to whom he
constantly testified his gratitude and affection both by word and
action, is in the knowledge of the present writer. Gradually in the
course of his career he had, he said, made the acquaintance of nearly
all the foremost musicians of Germany, and he believed that in the
teaching of the logical development of a theme, and in the teaching of
form, especially what is called 'sonata form,' Marxsen, even if he could
be equalled could not be excelled.
Eminent as he was, however, as an instructor in the art of free
imitative composition, in that of pure part-writing Marxsen was no
trustworthy guide. That he had gone through a course of training in
strict counterpoint, canon and fugue--the surest foundation for the
attainment of facility in part-writing--in his early days under Clasing,
and that he carried his pupils through the same branches of study, goes
without saying; but he had retained neither the exact knowledge, nor the
interest, necessary to enable him to impart to his pupils purity and
ease in the strict style of writing, or to train them to the effective
application of the contrapuntal skill they might have acquired, in
compositions in pure parts for voices or instruments.
It would be a nice question to determine, however, whether the very fact
of Marxsen's deficiencies did not result in a balance of gain to
Brahms. While his powers of imagination obtained from what his master
did do, encouragement and strength and facility in concentrating
themselves into shape, they were exempt by the absence of that which he
did not do from the danger of being dwarfed or intimidated. Marxsen
helped Johannes to the putting forth of his strength in confidence and
joy, and if the young musician ever felt it irksome to have to go back
to the confining and polishing processes, he knew that the conquests won
by him during the time of his pupilage ensured him final victory in the
fresh course of serious study to which he soon voluntarily submitted
himself.
Marxsen's indifference to the study of part-writing is strangely
illustrated by the absence of his name from the list of subscribers to
the great Leipzig edition of Bach's works; an absence which can hardly
be accounted for, in view of his enthusiasm for the instrumental works
of the mighty master, otherwise than by the supposition that his
vehement intolerance of religious creeds had impaired his interest in
the branch of musical art which originated and reached its highest
development in the service of the churches. The majority of the works
made generally known by the publications of the Bach Society were
written for use in the two churches for the musical portion of whose
services Bach was for many years responsible. This hypothesis is equally
plausible in its application to the church composers and learned
contrapuntists of the early Italian and German schools.
An interesting article on Marxsen is to be found in a little book called
'Künstler Charakteristiken aus dem Concert-Saal,' by his friend
Professor Joseph Sittard, and in an address given by this author at a
Brahms memorial concert in Hamburg immediately after the master's death,
the following sympathetic allusion was made to the beloved teacher:
'Brahms had the rare good fortune of being trained under a teacher
whose like does not fall to the lot of many young musicians.
Pledged to no special artistic creed, sworn to no particular
tendency or party, Marxsen had interest to bestow upon every
important development of musical art. He never gave instruction on
an inflexible scheme, but allowed himself to be guided by the
separate requirements of each case. He was careful not to interfere
with the individuality of young talent, not to meddle with the
distinctive peculiarities of his pupil's creative ability; he only
guided them within artistic confines. Brahms regarded his teacher
with touching gratitude, and when at the height of his creative
power still continued to send his compositions, before their
publication, for Marxsen's critical inspection. Nothing is more
indicative of the intimate relation between the two men than the
letters (from Brahms to Marxsen) that I was permitted to see years
ago.'
Unfortunately for the musical world, only one or two scraps of this
correspondence remain. On the death of Marxsen in 1887, Brahms' letters
to his teacher were returned to him at his request, and were destroyed.
[36] 'I have here in my mind Joseph Joachim, Ernst Naumann, Ludwig
Norman, Woldemar Bargiel, Theodor Kirchner, Julius Schäffer, Albert
Dietrich, not forgetting the earnest-minded E. F. Wilsing. As trusty
heralds in the right path, Niels W. Gade, C. F. Mangold, Robert Franz,
and St. Heller should also be named here.'
[37] Joachim.
[38] Anti-philistines.
[39] 'Robert Schumann's Briefe.' Neue Folge. Edited by Gustav Jansen.
[40] The letters in this and the following chapters from Brahms to
Schumann were first published by La Mara in the _Neue Freie Presse_ of
May 7, 1897.
[41] 'Eine Glückliche. Hedwig von Holstein in ihren Briefen und
Tagebuchblättern.'
[42] 'Liszt's Briefe.' Edited by La Mara.
[43] Kalbeck's 'Johannes Brahms,' p. 35.