1859
First public performances of the Pianoforte Concerto in Hanover,
Leipzig, and Hamburg--Brahms, Joachim, and Stockhausen appear
together in Hamburg--First public performance of the Serenade in D
major--Ladies' Choir--Fräulein Friedchen Wagner--Compositions for
women's chorus.
It is not difficult to realize something of the mingled feelings of hope
and anxiety that must have filled the mind of Johannes on his arrival in
Hanover in January, 1859. If the first chapter of his career had closed
in triumphant fashion with the extraordinary series of events that
followed his first little concert-journey, the second chapter can only
be regarded as an intermezzo which was spent in quiet preparation for
what was to succeed it. The prelude of his artistic life had been
successfully completed in 1853; the main action was to begin with the
performances in Hanover and Leipzig in the opening month of 1859. Brahms
was almost extravagantly self-critical, but he must have felt encouraged
when he remembered the substantial success of his début as a composer at
Leipzig immediately after the appearance of Schumann's famous article,
and he knew that he had now attained a much more advanced stage of
capacity. Such considerations, combined with the enthusiasm of his best
friends, may well have raised his hopes high.
The concerto was heard at Hanover on January 22 under the most
favourable conditions. Joachim conducted the orchestra, Johannes played
the solo, and it would be hard to say which of the two young musicians
was the more interested in the occasion, but the result of the
performance was that the public was wearied and the musicians puzzled.
'The work had no great success with the public,' reported the
Hanover correspondent of the _Signale_ ten days later, 'but'--and
we seem to read the promptings of a Joachim in the following
words--'it aroused the decided respect and sympathy of the best
musicians for the gifted artist.'
'The work, with all its serious striving, its rejection of
triviality, its skilled instrumentation, seemed difficult to
understand, even dry, and in parts eminently fatiguing,' said
another critic;[76] 'nevertheless Brahms gave the impression of
being a really sterling musician, and it was conceded without
reservation that he is not merely a virtuoso, but a great artist of
pianoforte-playing.'
Johannes had to leave immediately for Leipzig, and he started from
Hanover without knowing more about the impression produced there by his
concerto than could be gathered from the reserve of the audience and the
enthusiasm of his friend, but that his frame of mind was not despondent
may be inferred from a paragraph which appeared in the _Signale_
immediately after his arrival.
'Herr Johannes Brahms is here, and will play his Concerto at the
Gewandhaus concert of the 27th. He thinks of remaining the rest of
the winter at Leipzig.'
It is necessary to remind the reader what kind of audience it was for
whose acceptance our young composer was now about to submit his work.
Leipzig still occupied the position of musical capital of Europe to
which it had been raised by the genius of Mendelssohn. By the most
influential of its artistic circles, the premature death of this
fascinating master (1809-1847) was still deplored as an almost recent
event. Most of his old friends were living, and, in virtue of their
former personal association with him, looked upon themselves as
competent judges of all later aspirants to fame. It is matter of daily
experience that the uninformed satellites of a man of genius are
arrogant in proportion to their ignorance, and that even professional
adepts of sincerity are apt to allow their horizon to be limited by
their hero-worship. Musicians and amateurs, alike, of the Gewandhaus
circle associated the idea of a concerto with the clear melody of Mozart
and Beethoven, still, perhaps, regarding Beethoven as a little difficult
to understand, with the attractive sparkle of Mendelssohn and with the
opportunity for a display of the soloist's virtuosity afforded more or
less by the works of all three masters. If asked to listen to a novelty,
they expected that it should not be too unlike what they had heard
before to be difficult to follow. Bernsdorf, newly appointed to succeed
Brahms' friendly critic, Louis Köhler, on the staff of the conservative
_Signale_, was himself a conservative of the most obstinate type, in
some respects resembling the English J. W. Davison of the _Times_ and
the _Musical World_, who was honestly convinced that the series of great
masters had closed with Mendelssohn.
On the other hand, the New-Germans had by this time made considerable
conquests in Leipzig, where they had established an important party
organization, and had, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, even been
admitted on trial to the platform of the Gewandhaus. The _Neue
Zeitschrift_ was their organ, but they had supporters also amongst the
journalists of the daily press, Ferdinand Gleich, of the _Leipziger
Tagblatt_, being one of the principal. They were on the look-out for
champions who would rally to their cause, and welcomed the unusual as
such, though reserving their heartiest approval for the piquant,
sounding, sensational, or even revolutionary.
To these two bodies of extremists our Johannes, with his inexperience,
his ideal aims, his genius, and his dislike of the sensational, was now
to appeal. Had he been compelled at the moment to declare for either
party, he certainly would not have chosen the side of revolution. But he
was gifted with an imagination at once profound, original, and romantic.
This sealed his fate with the men who considered themselves the modern
representatives of classic art. The day after the concert he wrote to
Joachim to announce--'a brilliant and decided failure.'
'In the first place,' he says, 'it really went very well; I played
much better than in Hanover, and the orchestra capitally. The first
rehearsal aroused no feeling whatever, either in the musicians or
hearers. No hearers came, however, to the second, and not a muscle
moved on the countenance of either of the musicians. In the evening
Cherubini's Elisa overture was given, and then an Ave Maria of his
uninterestingly sung, so I hoped Pfund's (the drummer's) roll would
come at the right time.[77] The first movement and the second were
heard without a sign. At the end three hands attempted to fall
slowly one upon the other, upon which a quite audible hissing from
all sides forbade such demonstrations. There is nothing else to
write about the event, for no one has yet said a syllable to me
about the work, David excepted, who was very kind....
'This failure has made no impression at all upon me, and the slight
feeling of disappointment and flatness disappeared when I heard
Haydn's C minor Symphony and the Ruins of Athens. In spite of all
this, the concerto will please some day when I have improved its
construction, and a second shall sound different.
'I believe it is the best thing that could happen to me; it makes
one pull one's thoughts together and raises one's spirit.... But
the hissing was too much?...
'The faces here looked dreadfully insipid when I came from Hanover,
and was accustomed to seeing yours. Monday (January 31) I am going
to Hamburg. There is interesting church music here on Sunday, and
in the evening Faust at Frau Frege's.'[78]
The grimness of the young composer's disappointment may be read between
these Spartan lines. But perhaps he has exaggerated his failure. Let us
see what Bernsdorf has to say.
'It is sad, but true; new works do not succeed in Leipzig. Again at
the fourteenth Gewandhaus concert was a composition borne to the
grave. This work, however, cannot give pleasure. Save its serious
intention, it has nothing to offer but waste, barren dreariness
truly disconsolate. Its invention is neither attractive nor
agreeable.... And for more than three-quarters of an hour must one
endure this rooting and rummaging, this dragging and drawing, this
tearing and patching of phrases and flourishes! Not only must one
take in this fermenting mass; one must also swallow a dessert of
the shrillest dissonances and most unpleasant sounds. With
deliberate intention, Herr Brahms has made the pianoforte part of
his concerto as uninteresting as possible; it contains no effective
treatment of the instrument, no new and ingenious passages, and
wherever something appears which gives promise of effect, it is
immediately crushed and suffocated by a thick crust of orchestral
accompaniment. It must be observed, finally, that Herr Brahms'
pianoforte technique does not satisfy the demands we have a right
to make of a concert-player of the present day.'
Nothing could be more representative than these lines, of the
conscientious bigotry which almost always opposes what is really
original, though it is expressed by Bernsdorf with exceptional
coarseness. The narrowly orthodox antagonists of Brahms' art resembled
those who had levelled their shafts against Beethoven and Schumann each
in their day. The young composer fared differently at the hands of the
progressists. The _Neue Zeitschrift_ wrote:
'The appearance of Johannes Brahms with a new concerto was bound to
attract our especial attention. In the first place, on account of
the hopes entertained of an artist who had been introduced in a
most exceptional manner, even before his first appearance, by the
enthusiastic words of a revered master; and secondly, from the
rarity of his subsequent public announcements and the retirement in
which he has lived.
'Notwithstanding its undeniable want of outward effect, we regard
the poetic contents of the concerto as an unmistakable sign of
significant and original creative power; and, in face of the
belittling criticisms of a certain portion of the public and press,
we consider it our duty to insist on the admirable sides of the
work, and to protest against the not very estimable manner in which
judgment has been passed upon it.'
Ferdinand Gleich writes:
'Who would or could ignore in this new work the tokens of an
eminent creative endowment! We least of all who regard it as our
duty to encourage young talent. Many doubts, however, suggested
themselves as we listened to this concert-piece in large form.
This work again suggests a condition of indefiniteness and
fermentation, a wrestling for a method of expression commensurate
with the ideas of the composer, which has indeed broken through the
form of tradition, but has not yet constructed another sufficiently
definite and rounded to satisfy the demands of the æsthetics of
art.... The first movement, especially, gives us the impression of
monstrosity; this was less the case with the two others, although
even there we were not able, in spite of the beauties they contain,
to feel real artistic enjoyment. Brahms places the orchestra, as
far as is possible in a concert-piece, by the side of the obligato
instrument, and by so doing establishes himself as an artist who
understands the requirements of the new era. The treatment of the
orchestra shows a blooming fancy and the most vivid feeling for new
and beautiful tone effects, although the composer has not yet
sufficient command over his means to do justice to his intentions.
The work was received calmly, not to say coldly, by the public; we,
however, must acknowledge the eminent talent of the composer, of
whom, though he is still too much absorbed in his _Sturm und Drang_
period, it is not difficult to predict the accomplishment of
something great.'
Whether or not these two reviews were penned with a deliberate
purpose--and a desire on the part of the supporters of the New-German
school to identify Brahms with their cause can hardly be regarded as
either remarkable or dishonourable--no trace is to be found in either of
the insincerity attributed by Kalbeck, in his Life of Brahms, to the
journalistic partisans of the Weimarites, and especially to Brendel,
editor of the _Zeitschrift_ and friend of Liszt. Their honesty of
purpose, as well as their liberality of view, has been vindicated by the
fate which for many years attended the published concerto, and again we
may place the remarks of Hanslick, the avowed champion of classical art
and the enthusiastic admirer of the mature Brahms, beside those
published in the _Zeitschrift_ of the fifties. Writing in 1888, he
says:[79]
'Brahms began, like Schumann, in _Sturm und Drang_, but he was much
more daring and wild, more emancipated in respect to form and
modulation. The fermentation period of his genius, which is
generally supposed to have closed with his Op. 10 (Ballades for
pianoforte), should, perhaps, be extended ... does it not include
the D minor Concerto, with its wild genius?'
It has, indeed, taken nearly half a century to establish the concerto in
a secure position of public acceptance, and the day, though now probably
not far distant, has not even yet arrived when it can be said to rank as
a prime favourite amongst compositions of its class with the large body
of music-lovers.
Conceived as part of a symphony, the first movement of the work is
symphonic in character, though, as Spitta has pointed out, not in form.
The desire attributed to the composer by Ferdinand Gleich and by many
others since, to create a new form, to compose a symphonic work with a
pianoforte obligato, did not exist. Brahms simply wished to use what he
had already written, and did not feel that the time had come when he
could successfully complete a symphony. He rewrote his first two
movements, therefore, as we have noted, making room in them for a
pianoforte solo, put away the third movement, and composed a new finale.
How successfully he accomplished his task is to-day apparent to
accustomed ears, for which the first movement, though it contains slight
deviations from traditional concerto form, has no moment of obscurity.
The imagination of this portion of the work is colossal. It has
something Miltonic in its character, and seems to suggest to the mind
issues more tremendous and universal than the tragedy of Schumann's
fate, with which it must be associated. No one will assert that it
contains what are termed 'brilliant pianoforte passages,' the very
existence of which is unthinkable in a movement of such exalted poetic
grandeur; but that its performance brings due reward to capable
interpreters has been proved by the enthusiasm of many a latter-day
audience. After all that has been said, the reader will have no
difficulty in understanding the fervent intensity of mood which impelled
the composition of the slow movement, or in realizing something of the
emotions which suggested the motto, _Benedictus qui venit in nomine
Domini_, written above it in the original manuscript (in Joachim's
possession) by Brahms. In the finale, the difficult task of creating
something which should relieve the tension of feeling induced by the
preceding movements, without impairing the unity of the concerto as a
whole, has been well achieved. If it is somewhat more sombre in colour
than the usually accepted finale in rondo form, it is abundant in vigour
and impulse, whilst, on the other hand, though written with a view to
the concert-room, it never descends towards the trivialities of mere
outward glitter.
Much more might be said in explanation of the dubious position so long
occupied in the world of art by this great work of genius. We may not,
however, linger longer over such interesting matters. It is enough to
say that the purpose expressed by Brahms in his letter to Joachim, of
'pulling his thoughts together,' was literally carried out, and that his
development proceeded in the direction it had already taken, which was
the very opposite of that pursued by the adherents of the New-German
school. It consisted in the still closer concentration of his powers
within the forms of tradition, and the rapidity with which he attained
to complete and free mastery over musical structure is marked by the
production--soon to be recorded--of the first of the great series of
chefs-d'oeuvre of chamber music which have set his name, in this
particular domain of art, as high as that of Beethoven himself.
Unrecognised by the public and misunderstood by the academics of
Leipzig, whose sympathies he seems particularly, though for many years
vainly, to have desired to gain, our young musician had now no choice
but to return to his home and pupils at Hamburg. If, however, he himself
felt at all despondent at the failure of his hopes, his friends were
determined about the future of his work. Prompted and backed up by
Joachim, Avé Lallement, who was a member of the Philharmonic committee,
persuaded the directors to engage composer and concerto for their
concert of March 24. Joachim had written to Avé:
'DEAR FRIEND,
'Nearer acquaintance with Brahms' concerto inspires me with
increasing love and respect. The most intelligent people amongst
the public and the orchestra (of Leipzig) with whom I have spoken
express a high opinion of Brahms as a musician, and even those who
do not like the concerto are at one as to his eminent playing. I
have never expected anything else than that prejudice on the one
hand, and, on the other, astonishment at an individuality which
surrenders itself so unreservedly to the ideal as that of our
friend, should present some impediment to the brilliancy of his
success. A few places in the composition which, though good in
themselves, are too much spun out may also here and there disturb
one's enjoyment. Nevertheless, one may say that the concerto has
had a success honourable alike to artist and public; the same in
Hanover. Now let fault-finders and malicious detractors gossip as
they please--I don't mind; we have done right.... Now do as you
like in Hamburg, but if you give the concerto at the Philharmonic I
will come and conduct. That has long been settled.'[80]
The concert was made into a musical event of unusual importance by the
engagement of Joachim and of Stockhausen--his first appearance in
Hamburg; and public interest was increased by the advertisement of a
concert in the joint names of Brahms, Joachim, and Stockhausen to take
place on the 28th, which was to be signalized by the first public
performance of the newly composed Serenade in D major. That Johannes had
taken heart again after his disappointments, and was looking forward
with pleasure to the visits of his friends, is evident from a letter
written by him a few days beforehand to the lady in waiting on the
Princess Friederike of Lippe-Detmold.
'VERY ESTEEMED, GRACIOUS FRÄULEIN,
'In the first place I beg you to express my most humble thanks to
Her Serene Highness the Princess Friederike for the despatch of the
new Bach work.
'How often this present will remind me in the most agreeable manner
of Her Highness's kindness. You know how I love the divine master,
and may imagine that his tones (so dreaded by you) will often be
heard here.
'I am glad that Her Serene Highness continues to work so
industriously at her music, and only wish I could help her in some
way.
'In the trio mentioned by you[81] the most simple way is that the
left hand (which ceases playing) should help the poor right. For
what embarrassment the mischievous arrogance of the composer is
responsible!
'The day after to-morrow I play my pianoforte concerto here, and a
few days later introduce other works at a concert of my own.
Joachim and Stockhausen, who are coming for it, will make the days
into real musical festivals.
'In spite of the great diversity of opinions expressed about my
works, I have reason to be quite satisfied with my first attempts
for orchestra, and I confidently hope that they will find friendly
hearers in Detmold also.
'And I may venture to hope, above all, for later ripening and
better swelling fruits....'[82]
The Philharmonic committee had no reason to regret their arrangements.
The attraction of the two great names filled their concert-room to
suffocation. Every seat and every standing-place was occupied, and
crowds were turned from the doors. Those who have witnessed similar
scenes during--how many decades! can picture the excited expectancy that
followed the performance of a Cherubini overture, the thunder of welcome
at the first glimpse of Joachim, the never-ending applause and recalls
at the conclusion of his first solo, Spohr's 'Gesang-Scena,' the
sensation of Stockhausen's first appearance, the magnificent success of
his performance of a great aria from his oratorio répertoire. Then a
lull, the disappearance of Capellmeister Grund, the opening of the
piano, the reappearance of Joachim, this time to take his stand at the
conductor's desk, and the entrance of the slight, blonde young
Hamburger, pale and nervous, but calm and self-controlled, almost happy
in the support of his two friends.
On such an evening of enthusiasm, what public could have refused its
tribute to the young fellow-citizen who came before them as a composer
practically for the first time, with two heroes at his side to champion
his cause? Johannes was really successful. 'The concerto created an
impression, and excited applause far beyond that of a mere _succès
d'estime_,' and the critic of the _Nachrichten_ records the fact with
the more satisfaction from its contrast with the result of the
performance at the Leipzig Gewandhaus.
It would appear from the wording of the letter to Detmold quoted on a
foregoing page that the concert of the 28th, advertised in the three
names, had been arranged for Brahms' benefit. Ten years had elapsed
since his performance of the Variations on a favourite waltz had passed
unrecorded save in Marxsen's paper. Since that time he had given no
concert in Hamburg, and the change in his prospects is well measured by
the different circumstances of the occasions of 1849 and 1859. True that
at the age of twenty-six he had achieved no popular success, that his
concerto had effectually alienated from him the sympathies of the
Leipzigers, and that the Weimarites, whilst encouraging his efforts,
partially misunderstood his aims. Thorough-going belief in his art and
its promise was more firmly established than ever as a leading principle
of the inner Schumann circle, and this was itself gradually spreading.
We give the full programme of March 28, which is interesting for many
reasons:
1. Bach: Sonata for Clavier and Violin.
2. Handel: Aria from 'The Messiah.'
3. Tartini: 'Trillo del Diavolo.'
4. Schubert: Song, 'Der Erlkönig.'
5. Brahms: Serenade for Strings and Wind.
6. Boieldieu: Cavatina, 'Fete du Village Voisin.'
7. Schubert: Rondeau Brilliant for Pianoforte
and Violin.
8. Schubert, Schumann, etc.: Songs (including 'Der Nussbaum,'
'Mondnacht,' 'Widmung').
There was good reason to be delighted with the material result of the
undertaking. The large Wörmer hall was thronged. Brahms' artistic
success was also assured in regard to his playing of the duet sonata and
rondo with Joachim, and many of the musicians present appreciated his
wonderful accompaniment of Stockhausen's songs. The serenade, however,
now instrumented for small orchestra, and conducted by Joachim, was not
received with any decided favour, and the _Nachrichten_ expressed the
general sentiment of the time in the concluding sentence of its review:
'If Brahms will learn to say what is in his heart plainly and
straightforwardly, and not go out of his way to cut strange capers,
the public will endorse Schumann's hopes, and the laity be able to
understand what it is that professional musicians prize so highly
in his works.'
Such contemporary criticism might well pass unnoticed if it were not
that, in spite of the wealth of beautiful material and the fine
workmanship contained in the serenade, only one or two of its movements
are occasionally heard in the concert-rooms of the present day, whilst
the composer's later and more difficult orchestral works grow every year
in the favour of the public. The circumstance is to be chiefly explained
by considerations similar to those we have already applied to the first
concerto. When Brahms wrote the work he had not quite passed from his
apprenticeship. Though within sight of mastery, he had not achieved it.
The Serenade in D is a serenade in the character of its ideas, but not
entirely so in the structure of its movements. The instrumental
'serenata' (fair weather), a form which flourished vigorously during the
latter half of the eighteenth century, and was exhibited in its
greatest perfection by Mozart, was especially cultivated in an age when
music was dependent on the patron--the prince or nobleman who kept his
private band, and who delighted himself and his friends by open-air
performances in his park on fine summer nights. It consisted of a longer
or shorter series of movements--a march, an allegro, rondo, one or two
andantes, a couple of minuets, none of them developed to any great
length, and was composed for more or less solo instruments according to
circumstances. Brahms, fascinated by the performances of the Detmold
wind players, probably began his work with the intention of composing a
serenade _pur et simple_; but his interest in the art of thematic
development outran his discretion, and, by over-elaborating one of its
movements, he injured the balance of his composition and introduced into
it a character of complexity foreign to the nature of its form. The
Serenade in D consists of an allegro molto, scherzo, adagio non troppo,
minuets 1 and 2, scherzo, rondo. Some of the six movements, irresistible
from their grace, daintiness, or romance, delight the public when
performed as separate numbers, but the length of the opening movement
and the somewhat mechanical development of its middle section may
perhaps prove in the future, as they have done in the past, obstacles to
the frequent performance of the entire work. Traces of the young
musician's studies are to be found in the well-known reminiscences of
Beethoven and Haydn in the second scherzo.
The serenade, written as an octet and afterwards scored for small
orchestra, was probably rearranged for large orchestra, the form in
which it has become known to the world, in consequence of experience
obtained on this occasion of the first public performance of the work at
Hamburg.
The few years immediately succeeding Brahms' second return from Detmold
must be regarded as forming another turning-point in his career. They
witnessed the close of his _Sturm und Drang_ period and his complete
transformation into a master. They are remarkable not only on account of
the appearance of a number of short choral works which, perfect in
themselves, lead directly to the splendid achievements of later years in
the same domain, to the German Requiem, the Schicksalslied, the
Triumphlied, but they form a period of actual magnificent fruition. To
them is to be referred the inauguration of those chamber-music works of
Brahms which stand in the forefront of the finest compositions of their
kind, and the appearance of a classic for pianoforte unsurpassed by any
other of its form, the Variations and Fugue on a theme by Handel. This
portion of our composer's life belongs especially to his native city.
More than one consideration may have induced him, at the time, seriously
to contemplate the idea of settling permanently in Hamburg, and not the
least potent will have been furnished by his strong patriotic sentiment
and his deeply-rooted family affections. That he was not at once
accepted as a great composer by his fellow-citizens should not be matter
of surprise. It has too often been forgotten by Brahms' partisans that
his development as a creator was not precocious. The list of
Mendelssohn's compositions when he was a boy of sixteen is bewildering
in its length and variety; at the same age the most important of
Johannes' achievements was presumably the set of Variations on a
favourite waltz. Schubert's career was cut short in his thirty-second
year; Mozart died at thirty-five. Brahms at the age of twenty-six had
not completed any large work which can be regarded as entirely
representative of his mature powers, and had introduced but few
compositions either to the public or his friends. There were, however,
those among the musicians of Hamburg who, belonging to the increasing
circle of his personal acquaintances, believed in his creative genius
with the enthusiasm of absolute conviction, and as a pianist, though not
regarded as a phenomenal performer, he was generally accepted as an
artist of first rank.
Brahms' regard for his pupil, Fräulein Friedchen Wagner, had led to his
becoming intimate at her father's house, and here he frequently had
opportunity of hearing some of the compositions and arrangements for
voices which engaged much of his attention. Fräulein Friedchen, her
sister Thusnelda, and the charming Fräulein Bertha Porubszky, from
Vienna, who arrived in Hamburg to stay for a year with her aunt, Frau
Auguste Brandt, were delighted to practise short works in two and three
parts under his direction. Probably he hoped gradually to obtain a
larger number of recruits for his purpose. Before long, however,
accident led to his becoming the conductor of a quite considerable
ladies' choir.
On May 19 the wedding of Pastor Sengelmann and Fräulein Jenny von Ahsen
took place at St. Michael's Church. There was a large gathering of
friends to witness the ceremony. Grädener, already mentioned as a friend
of Brahms, who was an accomplished composer and the director of a
singing school, conducted his pupils in the performance of a motet for
female voices which he had written for the occasion, and Johannes, a
very old acquaintance of the bride, accompanied on the organ. Pleased
with the effect of Grädener's composition, Brahms expressed a wish to
hear his own 'Ave Maria' for female voices with accompaniment for organ,
composed during his second visit to Detmold, under similar conditions of
performance, and with the assistance of Fräulein Friedchen, who exerted
herself to procure the requisite number of voices, a rehearsal was
arranged. On Monday, June 6, twenty-eight ladies assembled at the
Wagners' house, and tried, not only the 'Ave Maria,' afterwards
published as Op. 12, but the 'O bone Jesu' and 'Adoramus,' now known as
Op. 37, Nos. 1 and 2. Brahms was seized with a fit of nervousness whilst
conducting, and Grädener, who was present amongst a few listeners,
stepped forward to the rescue; but a second rehearsal on the following
day went well, and the third trial in church with organ accompaniment
was in every respect highly successful. The practices had been so
enjoyable that, with the concurrence of Grädener, it was arranged that
the ladies, most of whom were pupils of the singing school, should
assemble every Monday morning to practise with Brahms; and the little
society thus founded became a source of delight to all who were
associated with it. The meetings were held during the first season at
the Wagners' house in the Pastorenstrasse; later on they took place at
several members' houses in turn. Each young lady used to sing from a
small oblong manuscript book, into which she copied her parts, and
several of these volumes are still in existence. After the business of
the morning was over, the conductor usually played to his young
disciples and admirers, who soon learned to look upon his performances
as not the least memorable part of the weekly programme. Writing in the
course of the summer to Fräulein von Meysenbug, Brahms says:
'... I am here, and shall probably remain until I go to Detmold.
Some very pleasant pupils detain me, and, strangely enough, a
ladies' society that sings under my direction; till now only what I
compose for it. The clear silver tones please me exceedingly, and
in the church with the organ the ladies' voices sound quite
charming.'[83]
The season closed on September 19 with a performance at St. Peter's
Church before an invited audience. Some of the 'Marienlieder'
(afterwards Op. 22) and the 13th Psalm (Op. 27) were included in the
programme. The members of the choir appeared attired in black to denote
their grief at the approaching departure of their conductor, and sent
him, afterwards, a silver inkstand buried beneath flowers as a mark of
their appreciation of his labours. This Brahms acknowledged from Detmold
in the following official letter to Fräulein Friedchen, his energetic
helper in the founding of the choir:
'DETMOLD, _end of Sept., 1859_.
'ESTEEMED FRÄULEIN,
'Nothing more agreeable than to be so pleasantly obliged to write a
letter as I am now.
'I think constantly of the glad surprise with which I perceived the
inkstand, the remembrance from the ladies' choir, under its
charming covering of flowers.
'I have done so little to deserve it that I should be ashamed were
it not that I hope to write much more for you; and I shall
certainly hear finer tones sounding around me as I look at the
valued and beautiful present on my writing-table. Pray express to
all whom you can reach my hearty greeting and thanks.
'I have seldom had a more agreeable pleasure, and our meetings will
remain one of my most welcome and favourite recollections.
'But not, I hope, till later years!
'With best greetings to you and yours,
'Your
'heartily sincere
'JOHS. BRAHMS.'[84]
That the composer did not forget his maidens during his season at
Detmold appears from another letter to Fräulein Wagner written a couple
of months later:
'_Dec., 1859._
'ESTEEMED FRÄULEIN,
'Here are some new songs for your little singing republic. I hope
they may assist in keeping it together. If I can help towards this
end pray command me.
'Kindest greetings to you and yours.
'Most sincerely,
'JOHS. BRAHMS.'[84]
Acquaintance with the charming circumstances which stimulated Brahms to
the writing of most of his published choruses for women's voices gives
an additional interest to the study of these beautiful compositions,
which undoubtedly take their place amongst the most fascinating works of
their class. Those with sacred texts, all evident fruits of the
composer's studies in the strict style of part-writing, show,
nevertheless, considerable variety of character. The 'Ave Maria,' with
accompaniment for orchestra or organ, Op. 12, first sung by, though not
composed for, the ladies' choir, is animated by a gentle, childlike,
devotional spirit appropriate to a prayer addressed by a group of tender
girls to the Virgin Mother of Christ. The 13th Psalm, with accompaniment
for organ or pianoforte, Op. 27, strikes at once a more solemn note,
with its three opening cries to the Lord; and the mourning plaint of the
writer is reproduced in tones whose fervent pleading is not impaired by
the clear simplicity of style in which the music is conceived. The Three
Sacred Choruses, without accompaniment, Op. 37, are alike beautiful,
whilst varying in character. The 'Adoramus' and 'Regina Coeli' (Nos. 2
and 3), written throughout in canon, are fine examples of learned
facility; and the last-named, the bright 'Regina Coeli,' for soprano and
alto soli and four-part women's chorus, is an entirely captivating
composition.
The secular pieces--the Songs with accompaniment for horns and harp, Op.
17, and the Songs and Romances to be sung _a capella_, Op. 44--though
fairly well known, should be heard oftener than they are. The dainty
charm of such little works as the 'Minnelied' and the 'Barcarole,' to
name only two of the most effective from Op. 44, gives welcome
refreshment in a miscellaneous choral concert, and never fails to
captivate an audience.
In our rapid survey of some of the works which are to be associated with
Brahms' Ladies' Choir, we have only taken account of those that were
actually published in the form required by the nature of the society.
Many settings and arrangements are to be found, in the little oblong
manuscript books, of songs which have become known to the world amongst
the composer's settings for a single voice or for mixed choir; and there
are some there which have never been published. The canons Nos. 1, 2, 8,
10, 11, 12 of Op. 113 were sung at the society's meetings. The 'Regina
Coeli,' on the other hand, was not included in the ladies'
répertoire.[85]
[76] Dr. Georg Fischer's 'Opera und Concerte im Hoftheater zu Hannover
bis 1866.'
[77] The concerto opens with a long-continued roll of drums.
[78] From a letter first published in Max Kalbeck's 'Johannes Brahms,'
vol. i., p. 356.
[79] 'Musikalisches und Literarisches': 'Neuer Brahms Katalog.'
[80] Moser's 'Life of Joachim.'
[81] Brahms' Trio in B major.
[82] First published in Reimann's 'Johannes Brahms.' One of the Princess
Friederike's Christmas presents to Brahms whilst he was her teacher
consisted of the five volumes (1851-1855 inclusive) of the Leipzig
Society's edition of Bach's works issued before he became a subscriber,
and it would appear from the opening of the above-quoted letter that she
made herself responsible for his subscription during the consecutive
seasons of his visits to Detmold. It is interesting to read the traces
of his movements furnished by the subscription list placed at the
commencement of each volume. In 1856 his name appears as belonging to
Düsseldorf; 1857-1864 inclusive, to Hamburg; and from 1865 onwards, to
Vienna.
[83] 'Aus Johannes Brahms' Jugendtagen,' by Hermann Freiherr von
Meysenbug (_Neues Wiener Tagblatt_, May, 1901).
[84] First published, with an account of the Ladies' Choir, in Hübbe's
'Brahms in Hamburg.'
[85] Hübbe.