1855-1856
Lower Rhine Festival--Madame Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt--Edward
Hanslick--Brahms as a concert-player--Retirement and study--Frau
Schumann in Vienna and London--Julius Stockhausen--Schumann's
death.
Extraordinary interest was lent to this year's Festival of the Lower
Rhine, again held at Düsseldorf (May 27-29), by the appearance at each
of its three concerts of Madame Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt. According to
traditional custom, and, indeed, by the _raison d'être_ of these great
Whitsuntide gatherings, the programmes of the first two days each
included a large work for chorus and orchestra, and on this special
occasion the combined singing societies of about a dozen towns furnished
over 650 voices, perfected by many weeks' previous practice, for the
performance of Haydn's 'Creation' and Schumann's 'Paradise and the
Peri.' That the selection of Schumann's beautiful work was due, in the
first place, to a desire expressed by Madame Lind-Goldschmidt is, under
the circumstances of the time, a specially interesting detail. The
direction of the concerts was in the experienced hands of Ferdinand
Hiller, and Concertmeister David of Leipzig had been invited to lead the
splendid body of strings.
It hardly needs telling that Madame Goldschmidt's performance of the
soprano solos in the two works mentioned created the usual extraordinary
impression. The name 'Jenny Lind' is almost synonymous with triumph.
'The most perfect purity and certainty of intonation,' says Otto
Jahn, 'the most strictly correct interpretation, the distinctness
and clearness of accent, the extraordinary virtuosity in everything
that belongs to vocal technique--all this would suggest a great
singer, and that she unquestionably is; but her peculiar
characteristic lies in something beyond such qualities. Her
phenomenal power is to be traced to the genius which, without
disturbing the composer's intention, makes everything she sings
literally her own--the mystery of artistic reproduction in its
highest perfection, which is as inexplicable as production itself,
and cannot be described by ordinary expressions.'[61]
At the third and so-called 'artists' concert,' chiefly devoted to solos,
Madame Lind was heard in trios from Mozart's 'Nozze' and Bellini's
'Beatrice di Tenda,' and in Mendelssohn's song 'Die Sterne schaun in
stiller Nacht.' The stormy applause, recalls, orchestra flourishes,
flowers, and poems, in which the enthusiasm of her audience found
expression were duly chronicled by the critics of the day. The
instrumental solos of this final programme were in the hands of Otto
Goldschmidt and Concertmeister David, who performed respectively
Beethoven's G major Pianoforte Concerto and a violin concerto by Julius
Rietz, conductor of the Leipzig Gewandhaus.
The festival is remembered as one of the most brilliant on record. The
immense audience brought together by the magic of one name was as
remarkable for its character as its numbers.
'To give a list of the celebrities is impossible,' continues Jahn.
'Who could count them? To mention a few of the foremost: critics
were there, from Chorley of London to Hanslick of Vienna; pianists,
from Stephen Heller of Paris to Stein of Reval; composers, from
Gouvy to Verhulst; conductors, from Franz Lachner to Franz Liszt.
The music-directors were almost more numerous than the privy
councillors in Berlin.'
'In Jacobi's garden,' says Hanslick,[62] 'a spot hallowed to me by
its associations with Goethe, I met Brahms and Joachim one morning.
Brahms resembled a young ideal hero of Jean Paul, with his
forget-me-not eyes and his long fair hair. From him and from Clara
Schumann I heard the news that Robert was completely restored,
reading, writing, and composing by turns with a clear mind.'
This was Brahms' first meeting with the man who was to be one of his
most intimate friends and appreciative critics during more than thirty
years of his later career.
At a matinée given by Frau Schumann in honour of a few of the famous
musicians assembled at Düsseldorf, Johannes again renewed his
acquaintance with Liszt, in whom equal ennui seems to have been produced
by the works of Haydn and of Schumann to which he had listened on the
two first concert days, and it may be accepted as certain that the
meeting did not further a rapprochement between the leader of Weimar and
Schumann's ardent young friend. Our musician was introduced the same
afternoon to Madame Lind-Goldschmidt, meeting her on speaking terms for
the only time in his life. No especial feeling of personal interest was
awakened between the two artists. Johannes' large capacity for the
sentiment of particular enthusiasm was already absorbed by his devotion
to Frau Schumann, and it is not surprising, on the other hand, that his
lack of training in social conventionalities, which allowed him on this
and other occasions to perpetuate some innocuous but decidedly pointless
jokes, should have somewhat offended the taste of the fastidious lady
who had had the élite of Europe and America at her feet. Madame
Goldschmidt's first personal impression was strengthened by an
occurrence shortly to be related, nor did she ever develop any great
sympathy for Brahms' music. Special circumstances, however, placed her,
in later years, in a certain association with it which has an interest
of its own, and particularly to the music-lovers of England. On the
occasions of the fine performances of the composer's Schicksalslied
(April 29, 1878), and of his German Requiem (March 16, 1880, and April
6, 1881), given in St. James's Hall, London, by the Bach Choir under the
direction of its then conductor, Otto Goldschmidt, the great
songstress, long since retired from public life, was to be found amongst
her husband's forces as leader of the sopranos; and the inspiration has
not yet been forgotten which was lent to the choir by the co-operation
of one, peculiarly fitted by her exalted temperament to appreciate, at
all events, the penetrating earnestness of the master's art.
Joachim's prolonged sojourn at Düsseldorf brought with it, through the
private quartet evenings which he held regularly twice a week, an
important addition to his friend's musical experience. Brahms'
opportunities of hearing the great examples of chamber music for strings
had not been frequent, and he was, at this time, not only enabled to
extend his acquaintance with this form of art by delightful means, but
often had the chance of taking part in the performance of some work for
pianoforte and strings included in the evening's selection. In spite of
the melancholy circumstances that kept them at Düsseldorf--and anxiety
about Schumann was again increasing--the time was a happy one to the two
young men, who passed many hours of the day in each other's society.
Johannes lodged in a flat above Frau Schumann's dwelling; Joachim lived
close by. The mornings were devoted by each to his particular
avocations, but these frequently brought them together, and they always
made part of Frau Schumann's family party at her mid-day dinner during
the few weeks she was able to remain at home. The afternoons and
evenings were often spent in long walks and excursions. Joachim had
forgotten his loneliness, and Johannes' affection for his dearest Joseph
had become one of the mainsprings of his life.
The greater part of June was spent by Frau Schumann at Detmold, capital
of the small principality of Lippe-Detmold, which, during the fifties
and sixties, possessed a very flourishing and enterprising musical life.
The reigning Prince, Leopold III., had inherited from his mother, a
Princess of Schwarzburg-Sondershausen, a fine taste for music that was
shared by his brothers and sisters, and soon after his accession he
established a private orchestra, consisting of thirty-three, soon
augmented to forty-five members, under the conductorship of the
violinist Kiel, a pupil of Spohr. A certain number of court concerts
were given every year, the programmes consisting of a symphony, two
overtures, and several solos, selected from the works of the best
classical and modern composers. The Prince was not without interest in
the New-German school, and compositions by Wagner and Berlioz were given
from time to time. Now and then there was a performance of the whole or
part of some large choral work.
Prince Leopold's mother, the Dowager Princess, resided with her
daughters, the Princesses Luise, Friederike, and Pauline, in the old
castle not far from the palace, and it had been settled that the
talented Princess Friederike should enjoy the advantage of lessons from
Frau Schumann during the short interval at the disposal of the artist.
The arrangement proved a great success, and not only with regard to the
lessons. Frau Schumann delighted a circle of sympathetic listeners by
playing at several court soirées, was enthusiastically received at a
public concert, and, on the eve of her departure, played one of
Beethoven's pianoforte concertos at an orchestral court concert, which
was made further memorable by the presence of Joachim and his
performance of the same master's concerto for violin.
Soon after the return of the two artists, the little party at Düsseldorf
dispersed for a time. Joachim started for a tour in the Tyrol, and Frau
Schumann, accompanied by Fräulein Bertha and Johannes, went to Ems,
where she had announced a concert for July 15, for which Madame
Lind-Goldschmidt had, during the week of the Düsseldorf festival,
proferred her services. The date decided upon was somewhat in advance of
the one originally selected, and Goldschmidt had been called to Sweden
meanwhile on affairs of importance. He interrupted his engagements,
however, and travelled to Ems, in order to put his services at Frau
Schumann's disposal by superintending the general business of the
concert and acting as his wife's accompanist; and it was in this
connection that a certain appearance of nonchalance in Brahms'
proceedings caused a feeling of irritation in Madame Goldschmidt and
himself.
The concert was to take place in a room of the Kurhaus, and, owing to
the procrastination of some of the authorities, the arrangements to be
made on the spot, including those for receiving and seating the large
number of ticket-holders, could not be begun until within an hour or two
of the time appointed for the commencement of the music. The result was
hurry and confusion indescribable, and many last things had to be done
even during the assembling of the audience. The brunt of the
difficulties was borne by Goldschmidt, who successfully overcame them,
but who was annoyed that Brahms, on his arrival with Frau Schumann and
Fräulein Bertha, passed quietly to his seat amongst the audience without
offering to make himself useful. Perhaps he may have thought he could
help matters best by keeping out of the way. He added to his
delinquency, however, by disappearing after the concert, which was, of
course, a huge artistic and financial success, without even showing
himself in the artists' room, and was seen no more in Ems. Starting for
Braubach, he wandered about alone for a couple of days, until the
winding up of the concert business left Frau Schumann at leisure, when
he rejoined her at Coblenz. There is no question that on this occasion
it was his invincible dislike to a fashionable crowd which overcame his
judgment, but it is not to be wondered at that his real or apparent
indifference was commented on by those to whom it seemed inexplicable.
Johannes passed ten happy days walking along the Rhine from Coblenz to
Mainz and visiting Frankfurt and Heidelberg in the society of Frau
Schumann and her companion, and, on their departure for a short stay at
Baden-Baden, to be followed by a month's rest at the seaside, he
returned to Düsseldorf to work hard at his pianoforte-playing. He had
not been unsuccessful in obtaining pupils there, but the means he
derived from his teaching were unreliable, and he had resolved to take
the advice of his two best friends to try his luck again as a
concert-player. He looked forward with dread to the ordeal, and shrank
from the partings it would involve, but kept to his plan; and in the
course of September a paragraph appeared in the _Signale_ announcing his
intention of making a concert-journey. He began, not at Leipzig, as he
had intended, but by joining Frau Clara and Joachim in giving two
concerts at Danzig on November 14 and 16, a change of plan which was of
benefit both to his spirits and his pocket. A picture of him on his
arrival in the town, given by Anton Door,[63] forms an amusing and
perhaps instructive sequel to the foregoing account of the occurrences
at Ems:
'I had hardly been a week in Danzig, when I saw great bills in the
streets announcing the coming concert of Clara Schumann, Joseph
Joachim, and Johannes Brahms. I at once called on Joachim, who
received me with cordiality, and we chatted, as old acquaintances,
of home and our experiences.
'During the whole time we were together, a slender young man with
long, fair hair paced continually to and fro in the background
smoking cigarettes, without troubling himself in the least about my
presence, or even showing by an inclination of the head that he
observed me; in a word, I was as empty air for him. This was my
first meeting with Johannes Brahms.'
Door became, nevertheless, in later years, a cordial friend and admirer
of the composer.
Complete equality amongst the three performers was observed in the
arrangement of the programmes. Each played solos, and both pianists
performed with the violinist at either concert. Brahms' contributions
included Bach's Chromatic Fantasia, which remained one of the _pièces de
résistance_ of his répertoire throughout his pianistic career, and two
manuscript pieces, Saraband and Gavotte, from amongst the 'Album-Leaves'
which he had contemplated publishing in 1854.
The critical moment had now arrived when Johannes was obliged to bid
farewell to his friends and go his own way. He played with success at
one of the Bremen subscription concerts on November 20, contributing to
the programme Beethoven's G major Concerto and Schumann's great
Fantasia, Op. 17; and on the 24th, the date which he had anticipated
with ever-increasing anxiety as it drew nearer, made his first
appearance in Hamburg since the wonderful turn that had taken place in
his fortunes in 1853, at one of G. D. Otten's annual series of
orchestral subscription concerts.
No doubt he was additionally weighted by nervousness--that _bête noire_
of executive artists to which, from the rarity of his public
appearances, Brahms was peculiarly a prey--by feeling, not only that he
was on his trial before his fellow-citizens, but that there were, in the
audience, loving friends prepared to triumph on his behalf. He had
chosen for performance Beethoven's E flat Concerto and unaccompanied
solos by Schumann and Schubert, but achieved at most a _succès
d'estime_.
'The pianoforte part of the concerto,' said the critic of the
_Hamburger Nachrichten_, 'was played by Brahms with the modesty of
a young artist, and was kept throughout in subordination to the
whole musical effect of the symphonic concerto. In our opinion, he
carried his reserve too far. He might, without detriment to the
spirit of the work, have displayed rather more virtuosity. That he
possesses it was shown by his playing of a canon by Schumann, and a
march by Schubert for four hands, arranged by Brahms for two
hands.'
It will not have escaped the reader's attention that Brahms introduced
no new important composition of his own on either of the occasions now
chronicled, and that no mention has been made of any fresh publication
from his pen since the autumn of 1854. The reason is not far to seek.
Neither the extraordinary praise bestowed on his works by Schumann,
Joachim, and their circle, nor the reserve with which they had been
received by many musicians whose good faith could not be doubted, nor
the acrimonious attacks of a portion, and especially the Rhenish
portion, of the musical press, could influence to any appreciable extent
the tribunal to which he had thus early in his career accustomed himself
to submit his works in the last instance--his own searching
self-criticism. He had, as has been seen, carried out Schumann's wish,
and had tried his hand on a symphony. The discovery that he had not
sufficiently mastered some of the fundamental technical qualifications
necessary for the successful fulfilment of such an attempt no doubt
prevented his carrying it to a conclusion. It will be remembered, also,
that he had withheld the string quartet recommended to Dr. Härtel for
publication by Schumann in 1853. By the middle of 1855, he had
sufficiently gauged both his strength and his weakness to have made the
resolve to apply himself to a fresh course of severe study--study which
should widen and strengthen and refine his capacity in every direction,
but which should have as its special aim the attainment of greater
facility and purity in part-writing in the strict style. From this time,
for a period of five or six years, he worked on without view to
immediate publication, but only with a set determination to become
worthy of Schumann's high hopes. He insisted before long that Joseph
should join him in his studies, though his friend's training in strict
counterpoint and part-writing under Moritz Hauptmann of Leipzig had been
much more thorough than his own under Marxsen; and an exchange of
exercises at fixed intervals, agreed upon between the two young
musicians, was kept up for some years. Joachim was inevitably much less
regular than Brahms in sending his papers, and Johannes by-and-by
instituted a system of fines, to be paid and spent in books in case of
unpunctuality on either side. The chief burden of the new rule certainly
fell upon the famous young concertmeister, whose great and increasing
popularity brought innumerable concert-journeys in its train. The
difference in the character of the two men is pleasantly illustrated by
this episode, which shows Johannes insisting on having his own way, and
Joachim, from whom no excuse was accepted, good-naturedly yielding, and
wishing to do more than he could possibly fulfil. Many interesting
memorials of Brahms' studies are in existence in the form of
music-books, printed or in manuscript, of which he possessed himself at
this period. Amongst them is an original edition of the first part of
Emanuel Bach's collection of his father's setting of German chorales
(1765), on the cover of which is Brahms' autograph and the date 1855,
and at the end of the book is an alphabetical index in Brahms'
writing.[64] There is also a very beautifully copied manuscript (not by
Brahms) of Sebastian Bach's 'Kunst der Fuge,' containing one or two
trifling pencil corrections in our musician's unmistakable hand. On the
fly-leaf is written 'Joh. Brahms, Nov. 1855, Hamburg,' also in pencil,
in large and bold penmanship, probably in one of the styles taught at
Hoffmann's school.[64] There are, too, a volume containing compositions
by Orlando di Lasso;[65] and manuscript copies of, amongst other works,
Palestrina's 'Missa Papæ Marcelli,' with Brahms' autograph and the date
1856; of Rovetta's 'Salve Regina'; and, in Frau Schumann's hand, of a
'Gloria' of Palestrina.[66] Still more valuable are the manuscripts of
several original Mass movements in four and six parts, presented later
on by the composer to his friend Grimm,[67] and these recall Dietrich's
mention of an entire Mass written in canon for two voices. This list
shows clearly enough the nature of Brahms' aims. He was determined to
become thoroughly acquainted with the historical development of his art,
to know the why and wherefore, as well as the how and when, of what he
had studied in the works of succeeding masters. The fascination
exercised over his mind by the clear, pure style of the great early
writers, whose learning is often used with such consummate ease as to be
unsuspected by the untrained hearer, is evident enough in many of the
choral works published by him later on. He exercised himself in the
acquisition of their technique until it had become an instrument in his
hand for the production of works which, like everything else that he
gave to the world, bear the impress of his own individuality.
In the issue of the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_, of December 14 a long
article on Brahms appeared, the closing one of a series of three begun
in July. Until this date, since the very sympathetic notice written by
'Hoplit' after the young musician's début at the Leipzig Gewandhaus, not
a word had been printed in this paper about his compositions save the
bare announcements of publication, in spite of the fact that nine opus
numbers had been given to the world in the interval, five of them being
important instrumental works, and three consisting severally of six
songs. 'Hoplit' had now come forward to take upon himself entire blame
for the omission, which, he declared, must not be attributed to any
indifference of the editor. Brendel had not only sent him each work as
it appeared, but had urged him to write, asking repeatedly, 'Why nothing
about Brahms?' His own great interest in the young composer, his desire
to find himself in complete accord with Schumann's opinion, his
incapability of entirely agreeing with it, had, he said, always led him
to defer his criticism; and, indeed, the reluctant and hesitating tone
of the articles leads to the conviction that they were written in
complete good faith.
'That Brahms found many opponents on his first appearance was an
unusual distinction; it showed that he possessed a very significant
artistic individuality. When, however, enthusiastic friends saw in
him the prophet of a new time, and especially when they proclaimed
the completely developed, ripe artist, we can only regard it as an
amiable excess of enthusiasm.'
'Brahms,' says the third and most interesting article, 'has
sometimes been described as the most talented and pronounced of the
Schumannites. So far as this is true, we regret it.... Schumann
cannot be carried further.... His very important individuality
quite unquestionably possesses a high value, but only in its
originality. Brahms is, however, no imitator of Schumann. He
displays, in the whole bent of his nature and creative activity, an
inner affinity with him which is more than mere sympathy, and has
about it nothing forced or borrowed; but he possesses an element
not in Schumann which makes us believe that, if it is only given to
him to attain to full development, he will find his own paths. The
more he succeeds in freeing himself from the characteristic
Schumann nature, the more may be looked for from his future....
'Brahms is not free from Schumann's danger; he, also, has the
subtle habit of mind, the tendency to the indefinite and misty,
which characterize the romanticists. He shares Schumann's strong
faith, moreover, in impulses of genius and inspirations of the
moment, to be followed without discrimination or resistance. He
sometimes introduces passages which have neither presupposition nor
consequence, but which are not therefore heaven-bestowed. His work
is inconsistent and defective in style. He should have been
regarded as an artist not yet mature. When all is said, however, it
was an unusually striking phenomenon that such a young composer
should exhibit in his first works a freedom in the handling of
form, a diversity of harmonic and rhythmic development, and an
abundance of ideas, such as are to be found in the works only of
those who are called to become one day masters. And yet who will
deny that much "lies in the air" to-day which had formerly to be
won by hard fighting, or to be developed entirely from within?'
Dr. Pohl's doubt evidently overcomes him again in the last sentence, and
it would be quite unjust to refer his hesitation to the influence of
party spirit, or to say that he had no ground for his feeling of
uncertainty as to the destiny of our composer's genius. It is difficult
now to realize the position of the critic who, in 1855, wished to write
without bias of the Brahms of twenty-two; but the good faith of these
_Neue Zeitschrift_ articles is curiously confirmed by a few forcible
words written in 1893 by an intimate friend of the Brahms of past sixty.
'Brahms' first works,' says Hanslick,[68] 'had interested me in a
high degree--interested, however, rather than satisfied me. A young
Hercules at the parting of the ways. Will he turn to the left, to
the most extreme romanticism, or to the right, to the path of our
classics?'
That Brahms himself had become aware of the problem that faced him is
conclusively shown by the future course of his development; and, with
the exception of the Ballades for pianoforte, Op. 10, dedicated to
Grimm, mentioned by Schumann in his letter of January, 1855, and
produced by Breitkopf and Härtel early in 1856, no work of his
composition succeeded the publications of 1854 until after a period of
six years.
Johannes again passed Christmas with Frau Schumann, and on January 10
played Beethoven's G major Concerto and unaccompanied solos by Schumann
at the Leipzig Gewandhaus concert. The impression generally created by
his performance is summed up by a few words in the _Signale_ which
suggest that he again rather overdid his artistic self-restraint:
'Many artists could certainly have displayed more technical
brilliancy, but few have the capacity for bringing out so
convincingly the intentions of the composer, or following as Brahms
does the flight of Beethoven's genius and disclosing its full
splendour.'
The critic adds that the young artist, who thinks more of the work he
happens to be interpreting than of self-display, has already won many
friends in the art world by his compositions.
Paying a flying visit to Hanover on his way back to Hamburg, which is,
just now, to be considered as his settled home, Johannes for the first
time heard Rubinstein, who had come to play at one of the subscription
concerts conducted by Joachim, and who shortly afterwards wrote to
Liszt:
'... As regards Brahms, I hardly know how to describe the
impression he made on me. He is not graceful enough for the
drawing-room, not fiery enough for the concert-room, not simple
enough for the country, and not general enough for the town. I have
but little faith in this kind of nature.'
It may be remarked here that Rubinstein never acquired a liking for
Brahms' art, and that, to the end of his life, he expressed the opinion
that the series of great masters had ceased with Schumann. Rubinstein
obtained a powerful following, not only as pianist, but as composer, at
Leipzig, and in later years his works were pitted against those of
Brahms by the large and influential set of musicians and amateurs of the
typical Gewandhaus circle. The generosity of Rubinstein's nature is too
well established to leave room for any suspicion of his having been
moved by paltry feelings of professional jealousy, and his repeated
asseverations that he could find no music in Brahms' works must be
accepted as genuine expressions of his sentiments.
Many celebrations took place, during the opening month of 1856, of the
centenary of Mozart's birth (January 27, 1756), and Johannes, making his
second appearance at Otten's concerts on the 26th, contributed the D
minor Concerto to a programme selected from the great master's works.
Whilst practising for the occasion at the house of Messrs. Baumgarten
and Heins, he made the acquaintance of the critic and journalist E.
Krause, between whom and himself a permanent friendship was established.
Krause became one of the earliest and ablest supporters of his art.
But two concerts of the season remain to be mentioned--one at Kiel,
given by Brahms in association with the composer Grädener, of Hamburg,
and the violinist John Böie, when his solos were Beethoven's E flat
Sonata, Op. 27, No. 1, and C minor Variations; the other at Altona,
where he played Bach's Organ Toccata in F major, Beethoven's 'Eroica'
Variations, and, with Böie and Breyther, Schumann's trio movements
'Märchen Erzählungen' and Beethoven's Sonata for pianoforte and violin,
Op. 96. He passed February and March quietly with his parents, making as
much money as he could by teaching. Mention may be made of a pupil in
whom he was interested at this time--Fräulein Friedchen Wagner, a cousin
of Otten's, and herself a pianoforte-teacher. Brahms' acquaintance with
her has an association, to which we shall presently refer, with some of
the works published by him in the early sixties.
Frau Schumann, who travelled without break, save for a short interval
in December, during the season 1855-56, spent more than two months of
the early part of the year in Vienna, where Schumann's works were as yet
but little known to the general public. Appearing as the inspired
missionary of her husband's art, she succeeded in arousing interest in
his compositions, whilst her personal achievements as an executant
excited extraordinary enthusiasm. She gave six recitals, and introduced
into two of her programmes respectively Brahms' Saraband and Gavotte and
the andante and scherzo from his F minor Sonata. The critic of the
_Wiener Zeitung_ of that date, Carl Debrois van Bruyck, speaks of them
as 'pieces of special beauty, which confirm the impression of the young
composer's exceptional talent' already formed by him from the study of
other works, especially of a set of variations [Op. 9] and a book of
songs. The successful début of Brahms' name in a concert-programme and a
prominent journal of the city to which he was to belong during the
second half of his life is an interesting point in his history.
It will be convenient to refer at once to a detailed review of our
composer's early works contributed to his journal by van Bruyck on
September 25, 1857. At this date, as the reader is aware, Brahms'
publications had not increased beyond the ten numbers already mentioned,
and consisted of the three sonatas, scherzo, variations, and ballades
for pianoforte, the B major Trio, and the three first books of songs.
The similarity of the remarks of the Vienna critic with those contained
in 'Hoplit's' _Neue Zeitschrift_ articles, already referred to, is the
more striking since van Bruyck did not concern himself with the party
conflicts of Germany. He was, however, a very great lover of Schumann's
art, and if he had any bias in regard to that of Brahms, it inclined in
favour of Schumann's young prophet.
He regards the variations as decidedly pre-eminent amongst the ten
works. They convince him that Brahms has
'a genuine and entirely original talent, a finely-endowed artist
nature.... Some of them are quite magic and ethereal, although the
finest of all recalls Schumann, perhaps intentionally; and in
others, especially the last, the young composer's tendency to the
vague and mystical is rather unpleasantly and dangerously apparent.
Next to the variations I should place the songs, which contain
tones of penetrating depth and sweetness.... Brahms certainly
stands within the sacred circle, and has already acquired a very
definite power of achievement, though it may not at present be
sufficient for his purpose; and it is the duty of serious,
unbiassed criticism to protect him against the derision which the
more highly gifted men have never escaped, especially when their
endowment has been peculiarly individual. As we have said, Brahms'
natural power seems to be lofty beyond all question, and the danger
and doubt as regards his development lies, we think, in his partly
instinctive, partly conscious striving after over-refinement; in
his excessive bent to the dæmoniacal, the fantastic. Should he
succeed in restraining this inclination, we may await with
confidence many riper, more perfect fruits whether in the nearer or
farther future.'
The derision from which van Bruyck desired to protect Johannes emanated
chiefly or entirely at this period from the Rhenish press. As it
consisted chiefly of the vulgar commonplaces of the journalist--familiar
at all times and in all countries--who has neither knowledge of his
subject nor instinct to avoid displaying his ignorance, no example will
be given of it in these pages.
Whilst Frau Schumann was achieving a series of unbroken successes in
Vienna, her private anxieties pressed upon her with ever-increasing
severity. The apparent improvement in Schumann's health had been but
transitory. He had steadily lost ground since the spring of 1855, and
before the winter had well come to an end the physicians were unable to
conceal from themselves that his case was hopeless. The afflicted wife
was sustained for the fulfilment of her duties by the best accounts that
the situation admitted of, but she was obliged, on her return from
Vienna, to relinquish all immediate hope of an interview with her
husband, whom she had not seen since the hour before the catastrophe of
1854. Nor could she allow herself the solace of remaining near him. She
was now sole bread-winner for the family, and a group of young children
depended on her exertions. She had entered into engagements for the
London season, and, after a very short interval of rest, started on
April 7 for England.
For Brahms, bound as he was by the closest ties of affection and
gratitude to Schumann and his family, it was impossible, under the
melancholy trend of events, to remain quietly at his studies in Hamburg.
There was some idea of removing the patient from Endenich; at all
events, it would be a satisfaction to obtain the opinion of fresh
experts on brain disease; and Johannes undertook to make personal
inquiries of certain eminent doctors, and to send his report as soon as
possible to England. On April 15 Frau Schumann wrote from London to
Dietrich, who had in the summer been appointed Wasielewsky's successor
as music-director at Bonn:
'DEAR HERR DIETRICH,
'I enclose a long letter from Gisela von Arnim. Will you give it to
Johannes on his return? I must again thank you and Professor Jahn
very fervently for the sympathy which you show Johannes in his
undertaking; it is a comfort to me that he does not stand alone, it
would be too hard for him. Of myself I have little satisfactory to
relate. In spirit I am always in Germany. I played yesterday at the
Philharmonic with a bleeding heart. I had a letter from Johannes in
the morning, in which I read hopelessness between the lines as
regards my beloved husband, although he had tried in all affection
to tell me everything as gently as possible. Whence the power to
play came to me I do not know; I could do nothing at home, and yet
in the evening things went.
'Think sometimes kindly of your
'CLARA SCHUMANN.
'I really think the enclosed letter is worth consideration.
Johannes will certainly show it to you and Professor Jahn. I have
just heard something about cold-water treatment for brain disease,
which makes me very anxious to try it for my husband. Please tell
Johannes I will write about it to-morrow.'
All was in vain, however. Schumann was already in an advanced stage of
the disease which, technically described under different learned names,
according to its many varieties, is known to the layman as softening of
the brain. Anyone who has watched the powers of friend or acquaintance
gradually succumbing to this most cruel of all maladies is familiar with
the general course of the symptoms. Minute particulars need not be
described. Enough that Johannes, permitted to see Schumann again after
an interval of more than a year, had been unutterably shocked, and had
felt that the time had arrived when it was his duty to prepare Frau
Schumann for the worst. As gently as possible he allowed her, as she
expresses it, to read between the lines that no change of treatment
could alter the inevitable. All the doctors were agreed in opinion;
none, therefore, was attempted.
The concert so pathetically referred to in the letter quoted above was
the Philharmonic concert at the Hanover Square Rooms of April 14, the
occasion of Frau Schumann's first appearance in England. Could any
incident of fiction be more heart-rending in its pathos than this
occurrence of real life--this picture of the sensitive, highly-strung
woman, whose nerves were habitually in a state of strained tension,
obliged to force herself, for the sake of her children's existence, to
step for the first time on to a London concert platform, a sea of
unknown faces before her, her kith and kin far away, a few hours after
she had accepted the certainty of her passionately loved husband's
tragic doom? No wonder she could 'do nothing' before the concert. Those
who knew her best can understand how it was that, after all, 'things
went.' Her début in England was made with Beethoven's E flat Concerto
and Mendelssohn's Variations Sérieuses, and things went with such
brilliant success that she was re-engaged for the next Philharmonic
concert.
Through the remainder of April, through May, June, and part of July, did
this great artist work incessantly, going in desolation of spirit from
triumph to triumph; and some of Schumann's shorter compositions which
were encored by the public became something more than tolerated, even by
the conservative press, for the sake of her perfect playing of them.
Her numerous concert-journeys through the British Islands extended as
far as Dublin. Amongst the most important of her London appearances were
those at the Musical Union (John Ella's) concerts and at her own three
recitals. At the second of these, which took place on June 17, she
imitated her own precedent at Vienna, and introduced Brahms' name for
the first time to an English public. The entire selection belongs so
peculiarly to the events and period occupying our attention that it may
interest the reader to have the complete programme:
Variations (Eroica) _Beethoven._
Two Diversions, Op. 17, from Suite de
Pièces, Op. 24, No. 1 _Sterndale Bennett._
Variations on a theme from the 'Bunten
Blättern' _Clara Schumann._
(_a_) Saraband and Gavotte in the style of
Bach _Johannes Brahms._
(_b_) Clavierstück in A major _Scarlatti._
'Carnaval' _Schumann._
The Brahms Gavotte was enthusiastically applauded, but Frau Schumann,
having regard to the performance of the 'Carnaval' before her, refused
the encore. At the close of the recital, however, she returned to the
piano in response to continued demonstrations, and repeated the
composition. Her performances were given on a pianoforte by Erard, whose
instruments were preferred at that date by all the great pianists of
Europe. A magnificent 'grand' was presented by the house to Frau
Schumann at the close of her London season, and despatched to her
residence in Düsseldorf. It continued to be her favourite instrument for
private use until 1867, when she reappeared in England after an absence
of ten years, and used a Broadwood pianoforte. On her departure a
Broadwood concert-grand was sent to her house near Baden-Baden by
Messrs. John Broadwood and Sons. Some years later, when the author was
intimate at Frau Schumann's residence, the Broadwood pianoforte stood in
the drawing-room, the Erard in the dining-room. On the former Frau
Schumann and Brahms often played duets after afternoon coffee; on the
latter Johannes--always 'Johannes' to his old friend--played one evening
after supper several numbers of the third and fourth books of the
Hungarian Dances, not yet published, not yet books, his eyes flashing
fire the while.
Brahms gave up all idea of returning to Hamburg for the present. Duty
and inclination alike prompted him to remain in Schumann's
neighbourhood, and the fact of Dietrich's residence at Bonn gave him
additional satisfaction in resolving to pass the summer on the Rhine. It
was at this time that he made the personal acquaintance of the poet
Claus Groth, who was staying at Bonn to be near Otto Jahn; and the
musical festival of the year (May 11-13) marked the beginning of his
intimacy with the great singer Julius Stockhausen, who, making his first
appearance on the Rhine, was heard in the part of Elijah in
Mendelssohn's oratorio, in 'Alexander's Feast,' in an aria by Boieldieu,
and in songs by Schubert, Mendelssohn, and Schumann.
Stockhausen had been a pupil of Manuel Garcia in Paris and London, and
was well known to the musical public and the private artistic circles of
both cities before he became a celebrity in Austria and Germany.
'His delivery of opera and oratorio music,' says Sir George
Grove[69]--'his favourite pieces from "Euryanthe," "Jean de Paris,"
"Le Chaperon Rouge," and "Le Philtre"; or the part of Elijah, or
certain special airs of Bach--was superb in taste, feeling, and
execution; but it was the Lieder of Schubert and Schumann that most
peculiarly suited him, and these he delivered in a truly remarkable
way. The rich beauty of the voice, the nobility of the style, the
perfect phrasing, the intimate sympathy, not least, the
intelligible way in which the words were given--in itself one of
his greatest claims to distinction--all combined to make his
singing of songs a wonderful event. Those who have heard him sing
Schubert's "Nachtstück," "Wanderer," "Memnon," or the "Harper's
Songs," or Schumann's "Frühlingsnacht" or "Fluthenreicher Ebro," or
the "Löwenbraut," will corroborate all that has been said. But
perhaps his highest achievement was the part of Dr. Marianus in
the third part of Schumann's "Faust," in which his delivery of the
"Drei Himmelskönigin" ("Hier ist die Aussicht frei"), with just as
much of acting as the concert-room will admit, and no more, was one
of the most touching and remarkable things ever witnessed.'
Cordial relations were so quickly established between Stockhausen and
Brahms that before the close of the month they had given two concerts
together--one on the 27th, in the 'yellow room of the casino' at
Cologne; the other on the 29th, in the hall of the Lesegesellschaft at
Bonn. Stockhausen's performances, accompanied in each instance by
Brahms, created a furore on both occasions. Brahms' solos--consisting on
the 27th of Bach's Chromatic Fantasia and Beethoven's C minor
Variations, and on the 29th of Beethoven's E flat Variations, Clara
Schumann's Romance, a Schubert Impromptu, and the great Bach Fugue in A
minor, to be found in vol. iii. of the Leipzig Society's edition--were
coldly received. This is not to be wondered at. During the half-century
which has elapsed since these concerts took place musical taste has
passed through more than one revolution; it is, however, questionable
whether at any time within the interval a pianist, of whatever
qualifications, not already accepted into the prime affections of the
public, could have successfully courted its favour beside the attraction
of a really great singer in full possession of his powers, whose
selections included a number of the most fascinating lyrics of Schubert,
Mendelssohn, and Schumann. One of the Cologne critics, at all events,
was satisfied with the pianist. It is rather surprising to read, in the
_Niederrheinische Musik Zeitung_, that Herr Johannes Brahms played his
two solos on the 27th 'with such purity, clearness, musical ripeness,
and artistic repose, that his performances gave true pleasure.'
Brahms' temperament was not really suited, however, to the career of a
virtuoso, nor had the obscure circumstances of his youth fitted him for
it. He generally felt too nervously self-conscious when before the
public to have a chance of gaining its entire confidence, and was too
dependent on his mood to be able to throw himself at all times
completely out upon his audience and compel their sympathy. The
achievement of striking and lasting success as a performer involves a
concentration of the best energies of body and mind upon this career,
whilst the attainment of real greatness as a composer means the devotion
of a life to the end. No illustration of these truths could be more apt
than the contrasted careers of Brahms and Joachim. Whatever Joachim's
natural creative faculty may have been, his boundless success as an
interpreter was fatal to its development. The divergence of the paths
pursued by the two friends resulted not altogether, or perhaps chiefly,
from variety of musical endowment, but largely from the radical
differences in their characters and circumstances. From early childhood
Joachim has never appeared on a platform without exciting, not only the
admiration, but the personal love of his audience. His successes have
been their delight. They have rejoiced to see him, to applaud him,
recall him, shout at him. The scenes familiar to the memory of three
generations of London concert-goers have been samples of the everyday
incidents of his life in all countries and towns where he has appeared.
Why? It is impossible altogether to explain such phenomena, even by the
word 'genius.' Joachim followed his destiny. His career is unparalleled
in the history of musical executive art. It began when he was eight; it
is not closed now that he is seventy-four. All possibility of his
achieving greatness as a composer--notwithstanding that he has produced
one or two great works--was excluded by the time he had reached the age
of fourteen.
The mistress of Brahms' absorbing passion, on the other hand, was from
first to last his creative art, to which all else remained secondary. He
never swerved by a hair's-breadth from his devotion, but accepted
poverty, disappointment, loneliness, and failure in the eyes of the
world, with all the strong faith that was in him, for the sake of this,
his true love. He was never drawn by inclination to his virtuoso career,
to which he submitted only as a necessity, discarding it as soon as
circumstances allowed. He was seldom able to disclose the infinite
possibilities of his playing under circumstances in which he was not at
ease; and though he possessed a great technique which he could easily
have developed into something phenomenal, and which, as it was, enabled
him to excite an audience now and again by sounding and dramatic
performances of Bach's organ compositions and other imposing works, yet
the more distinctive beauties of his style were too subtle for the
appreciation of a mixed body of listeners. His imagination of effects of
tone was, to quote Schumann's article, quite original, and this was even
more strikingly displayed in later years, when he conducted one or other
of his orchestral works. His playing even of such a trifle as Gluck's
Gavotte in A, arranged for Frau Schumann in 1871, which the author more
than once heard, was full of unsought graces that were the immediate
reflection of his delicate spirit. His performance of this little piece,
and his conception of many works of the great masters, together with his
whole style of playing, differed _in toto_ from Frau Schumann's. The two
artists admired each other's qualities. Frau Schumann courted Brahms'
criticisms, and has, on some occasions, quoted to the author his sayings
as to the reading of certain of Beethoven's sonatas, declaring she felt
them to be right. Nevertheless, her temperament would never have allowed
her to carry out these suggestions in actual public performance, and she
was better fitted by temperament than Brahms for the interpretation, to
the large public, of the masterpieces of musical art.
The author has been carried by this digression, which is the result of
her personal intercourse with these great musicians, to a date many
years later than that reached by the narrative. Its insertion here may,
however, be of advantage to the reader by preparing him to expect that
Brahms' career as a pianist, though not without success, was attended by
few brilliant triumphs.
On June 8, the forty-sixth anniversary of Schumann's birthday, Johannes
again went to Endenich, accompanied on the walk from Bonn by Jahn,
Dietrich, Groth, and Hermann Deiters, another notable acquaintance of
this summer. He looked very serious on rejoining his companions, though
he said that Schumann had recognised and seemed pleased to see him. The
end was, indeed, not far off. The mists that had so long been gathering
around the lofty spirit of the master continued to close him into
ever-increasing darkness. Bad news attended Frau Schumann's return from
England towards the middle of July, and on the 23rd of the month she was
summoned by a telegraphic despatch to Endenich. Even now the longed-for
interview had to be deferred. Fresh symptoms appeared before her
arrival, and she was obliged to return to Düsseldorf to live through
three more days of agonizing suspense. She returned to Bonn on the
evening of the 26th, there to await the end, and at length, on Sunday
morning, July 27th, passed with Johannes into the solemn chamber of
death. Schumann was lying quietly with closed eyes as she entered, but
opened them presently on the figure kneeling at his bedside, and it
became evident after a few moments that he knew his wife. His power of
speech was almost gone, but a look of recognition passed over his
countenance. He received with satisfaction a few drops of wine with
which she tenderly moistened his lips, and suddenly, with a last
accession of strength, was able to place one of his arms round her.
Those faint looks of love, that last embrace, dwelt in Frau Schumann's
memory as an ever-present solace through the forty years of her
widowhood, and, in spite of her many sorrows, the radiance was never
dimmed that had been shed over her spirit once and for all by the
enchantment of an early ideal happiness.
Schumann lingered yet a day or two, growing weaker hour by hour as his
wife and his young friend watched at his side. He passed quietly away at
four o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, July 29; and Frau Schumann, returning
from a short interval of repose at her hotel, accompanied by Brahms and
Joachim, who had taken immediate train to Bonn on receiving a hopeless
report, learned that her husband's sufferings were over for ever.
Two days more, and on Thursday, July 31, in the stillness of a balmy
summer evening, the mortal remains of the master were laid to rest in
the cemetery of Bonn. The funeral was arranged with touching simplicity.
A pleasant spot had been chosen by the city, some plantain-trees planted
by the grave. The coffin, borne from Endenich by the choristers of the
Concordia, was immediately followed by the three chief mourners--Brahms,
who carried a laurel wreath, Joachim, and Dietrich. Next came the
clergyman, Pastor Wiesemann, and the Mayor of Bonn, and at an appointed
spot in the city a long string of friends and musicians joined the
procession, which passed on foot through the streets accompanied by a
band of brass instruments playing one and another of the most solemnly
beautiful of the old German chorales. At the graveside Brahms stepped
forward and placed the wife's wreath upon the coffin, bare of other
floral decorations. A short address was delivered by Pastor Wiesemann,
then came a sacred part-song by the choristers, a chorale, a few simple
words spoken by Ferdinand Hiller, the last farewell of friends throwing
earth upon the coffin, and all was over.[70]
On the anguish of the widow looking out despairingly to the future of
her lonely life, who yet might not despair because of the little ones
clinging to her side, on the steadfast loyalty of the affectionate
friends in whose sympathy she had found, and continued to find, support,
it is unnecessary to dwell; they are matter of history. Rather let the
chapter be closed in silent remembrance of the departed master and of
the group of his loved ones who lamented together in the sacred presence
of an irreparable grief.
[61] 'Gesammelte Aufsätze über Musik.'
[62] 'Aus meinem Leben.'
[63] _Die Musik_, first May number, 1903.
[64] In the author's possession.
[65] In the possession of Professor Julius Spengel.
[66] In the library of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Vienna.
[67] In the possession of Fräulein Marie Grimm.
[68] 'Aus meinem Leben.'
[69] Grove's 'Dictionary of Music and Musicians.'
[70] Chiefly taken from the account written at the time for the _Neue
Zeitschrift_, by Ferdinand Hiller.