Читать книгу Louis Spohr's Autobiography - Spohr Louis - Страница 5
ОглавлениеMy diary mentions the following with regard to Herr Eck’s public concert in the Logensaal on the Drehbahn on the eighteenth of May:
“Herr Eck had great reason to be satisfied with the orchestra, for his concerti were admirably accompanied; not so the arias of Fräulein Grund, which were somewhat difficult for the wind instruments. At the head of this well drilled orchestra, is Massoneau, well known by his charming compositions. The appearance of this man by no means indicates his great talent; for his manner of playing and his bow-ing are so bad, that one might take him for the greatest bungler—and yet he does not direct at all badly.”
Our stay at Hamburgh lasted till June 6. Herr Dussek who was commissioned to arrange the concert at a festival with which the English living in Hamburgh were about to celebrate the 4th of June, in honour of their king, engaged Herr Eck to perform a violin concerto. It was not until the rehearsal which took place on the evening of June 3, at nine o’clock, that Herr Eck discovered that the concert was to be given in the open air, which, until then, had never been mentioned. A tent had been erected, in which the orchestra, about one hundred strong, was disposed on a terrace-like platform. Herr Dussek first tried a Cantata, composed by him for the occasion, and which, had an uncommon effect upon me; for not only was it well written and thoroughly well studied, but from the accompainment of a large organ which had been erected in the back ground of the orchestra and “from its being executed in the silence of night, it partook of so solemn a character that I was quite charmed by it.”
After the Cantata, Herr Eck was to try his Concerto. But, he fearing that the damp night air would have an unfavourable effect upon his strings, and that his violin, after so powerful a volume of vocal sound, and hemmed in by the linen walls, would tell badly, had resolved not to play at all. He explained this; and at the same time reproached Herr Dussek warmly for not having told him at once, that the concert was to take place in the open air. Hereupon a sharp dispute followed, the consequence of which was that Eck left the place immediately with me, and we took no part in the festival itself.
We now went to Ludwigslust, where Eck wished to play at Court. But his offer was declined; and he came also to Strelitz at an unfortunate time, for the Court was absent. Nevertheless, as it was soon expected to return, and the pleasant little town with its charming park, bounded by the lake, invited us to make a longer stay; and, as Eck foresaw that in the height of summer it would be impossible to do much in Stettin, Dantzic and Konigsberg, he made up his mind to await the return of the Court. We looked out therefore for private lodgings, and made ourselves at home there for some time.
This was the most favourable period for my studies, during the whole journey. Eck, who was now at leisure, devoted himself with great zeal to the instruction of his pupil, and initiated me in all the secrets of his art. I, for my part, urged on by youthful ambition, was indefatigable. I rose very early and practised until exhaustion obliged me to cease. But, after a short rest I began again, and in this way, sometimes brought it to ten hour’s practising a day, including the time that Eck devoted to me. In a letter from Brunswick, I had been informed that those who did not wish me well had loudly expressed themselves, that I should distinguish myself as little as all the other youths whom the duke had hitherto assisted in their studies. In order to controvert this opinion, I was determined to do my utmost, and even when my zeal sometimes flagged, the thought of my first appearance in Brunswick upon my return, animated me directly to fresh exertion.
In this manner I succeeded after a short time in acquiring such dexterity and firmness in the management of my instrument, that none of the then known Concerto-music was too difficult for me. In these exertions I was supported by sound health, and a Herculean frame.
Between whiles, I composed, painted, wrote and read; and in the later hours of the afternoons we used to make excursions into the neighbourhood. A favourite amusement of the travellers was to row across the lake, and to take supper at a farm house, situated on the opposite shore. As I was already at that time an accomplished swimmer, I often undressed during these trips, and swam a while alongside the boat. The relation in which I stood to Eck, which was more that of one comrade to another than of pupil to teacher, admitted of such privileges.
At this time, I finished a violin concerto I had begun in Hamburgh, and which afterwards appeared as Op. 1 at Breitkopf & Härtel’s in Leipsic; and wrote the three violin duets Op. 3 published at Kühnel’s in the same town. While practising these duets with Eck, I became first aware that my teacher, like many violinists of the French school, was no thoroughly finished artist; for however excellently he executed his concertos, and some other compositions studied with his brother, yet he knew but little how to enter into the spirit of the works of others. A change of characters would have been very possible while playing these duets, for the scholar could have taught the master how they ought to have been executed. I became also aware from an attempt at composition made by Eck, that it was impossible for him to have composed the violin concertos and quartetts he had given out as his own productions. At a later period, also, the concertos appeared with the name of the elder Eck affixed to them, and the quartetts with that of Danzi, the leader of the Orchestra at Stutgard. Thus the four weeks, during which we waited for the arrival of the Court, passed in a very uniform way, but not fruitlessly for me, when Herr Eck fell seriously ill, and being obliged to keep his room for the first four weeks of his indisposition, I took my evening walks alone. During these walks another love affair sprang up, which is related in the diary with great earnestness and minuteness. On the eighth of July, is written:
“This afternoon, impelled by ennui, I entered a circulating library, where I selected Lafontaine’s well known novel “Quinctius Heymerom von Flaming.” I took it with me, and, leaving the town, looked for a sequestered and shady place on the shore of the lake, where I lay down and began to read. I became deeply engrossed in the story; grieved with Lissow about his Jacobine, and compared her to a lady then living, and an acquaintance of mine. Suddenly I heard footsteps near me, I looked up, and two girls stood before me; one with blue eyes, fair curls, and beautiful as an angel, the other with black hair and eyes, less beautiful indeed than her companion, but still not plain. I sprang up, bowed respectfully and gazed after them for a long time. Myrrha, Herr Eck’s dog which I had taken with me, followed them, fawning upon the fair haired one incessantly, so that it did not heed my calling. I therefore followed to bring back the dog, and if possible to make the acquaintance of the girls. The fair one came to meet me, begging pardon for having kept back the dog, and asked me to promise that I would not punish it for its disobedience. With her sweet silvery voice she might have exacted yet greater promises from me; I therefore gave the desired one with pleasure. The conversation was now commenced; I continued it, and accompanied the girls on their walk. I found that the fair one was very well educated and polite. The dark one spoke too little to allow of judging of her education. We came at length to a meadow separated from our path by a broad ditch, which although shallow, was yet too wet for ladies to cross. As they expressed a desire to walk in the meadow, I offered to carry them over. At first they would not consent, but at last they allowed themselves to be persuaded. I took the fair one first, and an incomprehensible pleasure seized me when thus carrying the beautiful girl in my arms. When I had reached the most dangerous part of the ditch with her, one of her fair curls fell upon my face. This so disturbed me, that I nearly fell with my lovely burthen into the ditch. Nevertheless, I brought her happily over. She thanked me so heartily and gazed so into my face with her large blue eyes that I almost forgot to fetch the other. We now walked on across the meadow, and, at the end, to my great disappointment, found a little bridge which led us back over the ditch. This envious bridge robbed me of the pleasure of carrying once more the sweet burthen. I escorted the girls as far as the town, and then parted from them very unwillingly.—I will immediately enquire their names and station.”
Already the next day I again met my fair one. The diary relates this with comical ingenuousness:
“This evening, urged by God knows what impulse, I took the same walk as yesterday, and again laid myself down in the very place where I had been so agreeably disturbed by the girls. I began to read; but, although I was at an interesting part, yet when I had run through some pages, I had not the least idea of the contents. I now confessed to myself that I had not come here to read, but in the hope of again meeting my new acquaintance. I pocketed my book and gazed with longing looks towards the place where I had first seen them yesterday. But; after waiting in vain for two hours, I arose, vexed, and returned towards the town. Just before reaching it, at a place where two roads meet, I encountered some cows, on their way home from the meadow, which blocked up my path and obliged me to wait. But I had not stood there long, before I saw at some distance, a female figure, dressed in white, coming towards me, and which had exactly the same fine form and high bearing of her whom I had waited for with such earnest longing. As she drew nearer, I was more convinced that it must be her, and I went to meet her. I had not deceived myself—it was her! She greeted me with her graceful friendliness, enquired how I was, and told me that her friend had taken cold the evening before, and was obliged to keep her bed. I said I was sorry to hear it, and that I feared I had been the cause of the illness of her friend, in having delayed them too long in their walk. She assured me however of the contrary, and laid all the blame upon her friend herself, who had clad herself too lightly.”
“During this time the herd had passed by, and we separated. In this second conversation I have again remarked in her so much polish of manner, and so much tender feminine delicacy that I could not but infer that she had been exceedingly well educated.—But, as yet I know not who she is; though from her conversation, I am of opinion she must belong to the bourgoisie.”
These meetings were now repeated almost every evening without prior agreement, and I felt very unhappy when on one occasion I did not find my friend. I became more and more confidential with her; spoke of my parents; of my patron who provided me with the means to accompany my eminent Instructor on his travels; mentioned my works, and plans for the future; and felt myself drawn nearer to her by her friendly interest for me. I saw in her the sum of all womanly perfections, and imagined to have met her who could make the happiness of my life. When wandering hand in hand in the little wood by the lake side, I was more than once upon the point of declaring my love to her; but a timidity I could not conquer always prevented me. Respecting her own circumstances, she was very reserved, and hence I was still ignorant as to who she was. On the 24 of July I however wrote:
“At last I have learned the name of my fair one; but the enquiries made, have cost me dear! Herr Eck, who is now almost recovered and who has already taken some short walks, sent for a hair dresser. Of him, I made enquiries. He told me her name was ***, and, that she was the daughter of a groom of the chambers to the former Duke, who had died some years ago. Her mother, with whom she lived, had a small pension. To my question as to how that could enable her to dress so elegantly? his reply was: they were probably presents from Herr von *** who was very fond of her and visited her frequently. On hearing this, my agony was so great, that I nearly let fall my violin,—and scarcely had the courage to ask, whether her virtue was doubtfully spoken of. He assured me nevertheless to the contrary, and was of opinion, that Herr von ***, who had only come of age two months ago, had the intention of marrying her. He was now travelling, and would return in some weeks. I had made the acquaintance of this Herr von *** at the Inn where we dined, before his departure, and must admit that he seemed to me the most well bred young nobleman we met there. The less therefore do I understand his making her presents and she accepting them; for she can hardly permit herself to hope that he will marry her. And, if so, how as a prudent girl, could she venture during his absence to take lonely walks with a young man, and sit with him in the evening before the door of the house? The affair is a riddle to me, and I am doubtful whether I shall go to her this evening or not.”
The girl’s character however did not long remain a riddle to me; for scarcely had Eck, who now again shared the evening walks, made her acquaintance, than she received his attentions in a much more friendly and forward manner than she had done mine. Eck, gallant and liberal, arranged excursion-parties to please her, into the neighbourhood; to Rheinsberg, Hohenzirze, and other places. For this, she rewarded him with the most marked attention, and had eyes for him only. I felt deeply wounded; the diary contains passionate outbursts of jealousy. Fortunately they were confined to writing, and the good understanding with my Instructor remained unshaken. The contempt I now felt for the girl helped me to conquer my passion, and I turned to my studies with renewed zeal. My diary states:
“I never remark the progress I have made in playing, more than when, from time to time, I take up some old theme and remember how I used to execute it. To-day for instance I took the Concerto I had studied in Hamburgh and found, that I now executed with the greatest ease those passages which I then could not play without a break.”
My Instructor also, did not leave me without encouragement; and when, on the 16 of August, I had played my new Concerto; to my great delight, Herr Eck said: “If every three months you progress as you have done in these, you will return to Brunswick a perfect virtuoso.”
Two days later, Aug. 18., I remained almost the whole day at home, and composed a new Adagio to my Concerto; for although I had already written three, yet none of them seemed to suit well to the other parts.
As evincing my youthful pride as a Composer, the following may here be cited:
“I was told of a popular festival which was to be arranged at Hohenzirze, August 27. the birthday of the hereditary Prince. To this festival the peasants of the neighbouring villages are invited to a dance and supper. There is also to be dancing at the castle. In answer to my question, as to where so many musicians would be found, I learned that the Janitscharen-music would play for the peasants, and the Orchestra—imagine my astonishment—for the dancing at Court! I would not believe it at first, until repeated assurances of it were made to me. But, I asked: how is it possible, that the Duke can require such a thing from the members of his Orchestra, and that they have so little feeling of honour and artistic pride as not to refuse it? The reply was: the Duke does not consider it improper for his Orchestra to play to dancers, and the majority of the members dare not disobey his commands, for if discharged from here, poor bunglers as they are, they would find it difficult to obtain places in other orchestras.”
As after the end of my unhappy love affair, my residence in Strelitz had become unbearable, I longed greatly for our departure. This however, was still delayed, for the doctor could not pronounce Herr Eck fully restored until the end of September. The unpleasantness of my position was still further heightened by the friend of my faithless one, whom at our first meeting I had named the “dark one”, turning her affection most unmistakeably towards me; an affection, which, although the girl was very pretty, I could not return. I withdrew myself from their society as much as possible; but, out of regard to my Instructor, I could not entirely refuse to share in the pleasure parties and excursions which he constantly arranged; and at these I could not avoid being the escort of the dark beauty. There are naive complaints in my diary of the embarrassments which her tenderness caused me, and more than once I wished the moment of our departure to arrive, which would free me from such trials.
On the 27th Sept., came at length the moment, when we were to say farewell to our fair ones. Sophy (the dark one) had affected, or perhaps really felt, an uncommon sadness for the last three days. To-day she spoke not a word, only sighed sometimes, and, when the others in the room did not observe it, threw herself passionately upon my neck. About eight o’clock in the evening, Herr Eck and Miss *** left the room. Now for the first time the real outbreak of her tenderness took place; for after she had also sent away her brothers and sisters, she hardly let me out of her arms. I was obliged to bear with it until ten o’clock; then we took leave. The poor girl shed so many tears, that I was ashamed of my own dry eyes, and, in order not to appear quite heartless, I kissed her warmly. Sophy accompanied me to the door of the house, and pressed a paper into my hand, with the request that I would keep it as a remembrance. I hastened home, opened it, and found a letter with a gold ring containing some hair. The letter ran as follows: “Noble friend, pardon a girl whose importunity must certainly have been obvious to you. I knew that sometimes I did more than was befitting my sex. But God knows, when in your company, which was so dear to me, I could not control myself. Now also I force upon you a small token, trifling indeed, but given with the most openhearted impulse. My only wish and prayer is that you will wear it, and remember me. Ah! could this paper but tell you how highly I value having made your acquaintance, and how deeply I regret your going so far away from us! I must conclude, and in the firm hope of seeing you, my best friend, once more, I already rejoice at the day which will restore you to us again. Farewell, and may you live as well and happily as is the wish of your friend Sophy ***”
This unmerited and tender inclination may not have remained without thankful acknowledgement; for the resolution to answer the letter in a most friendly manner from Stettin, is expressed in the diary. But there is nothing mentioned respecting the execution of that resolve.
We went to Danzic, via Stettin, arriving there October 2. As Eck had to deliver many letters of introduction, and had to arrange a Concert; the lessons, which till now had been given regularly, came rather to a standstill. Meanwhile, I thought, “that I made progress by only hearing Herr Eck practise.” We were constantly invited out to dinner, and for the evening; among other invitations was one to the country seat of Herr Saurmann, where from a hill behind the house, we could overlook the Baltic and a great part of the town. The view of the sea and the vessels upon it made an indiscribable impression upon me. As the day was somewhat overcast, the ships appeared to hang in the clouds, and to move slowly along with them. I could with difficulty tear myself away from the magnificent sight.
At another dinner, in Mr. Simpson’s garden, I had the honour to sit beside the hostess. She induced me to relate to her many things of my early life, namely: how I had been at first destined for the study of medecine, and then, from a passionate inclination for music, had been led to devote myself entirely to the art. She listened to me with a benevolent interest, but at the end wounded my feelings by asking whether I should not have done better to follow the profession of my father. Wholly penetrated with the dignity of my artistic career, I replied angrily: “As high as the soul is above the body, so high is he who devotes himself to the ennobling of the mind, above him who only attends to the mortal frame.”
Almost everytime that an opera was given, I went to the theatre, and did not fail to note down my remarks upon the performance, in which singers, chorus and orchestra were sharply handled.
To my great joy, Ariadne in Naxos, the celebrated melodrama of Brade, which I did not yet know, was also given. But it offended my taste, that in the comedy which followed, “The peasants and lawyers”, Theseus appeared again in the character of a lawyer, and Ariadne as a humble peasant girl. “The music enchanted me although it was very badly performed. But how could it be otherwise, the score having only arrived in the morning from Königsberg, and the first and only rehearsal having been held at noon! Madame Bochmann, who played Ariadne, declaimed indeed very well, but was too ugly for the part.” A young Englishman, who sat next to me, said, that, he did not think Theseus to blame for forsaking such an Ariadne. And upon this, he related to me the following anecdote. At an amateur theatre in England, Ariadne was also given. A rather elderly and anything but beautiful lady played the part of Ariadne so excellently, that the audience broke out into applause at the end of the piece. She modestly disclaimed the applause, saying: “In order to represent Ariadne well, it was necessary to be both young and handsome.” A young man, who wished to say something clever to her, cried out: “O, Madam, you prove the contrary!”
Herr Eck’s concert on October 16. at the Theatre, went off brillantly. As I knew the pieces that my Instructor performed, very accurately, I undertook to lead them on the first violin. The musicians, who soon discovered how firm the young Conductor was, followed me willingly, thereby rendering the performance of the Solo player much easier; which he also thankfully acknowledged. Besides the three pieces played by Herr Eck, there was also a Symphony by Haydn, an Overture by Mozart, a pianoforte Concerto by Danzi, played by Herr Reichel, and two Arias of Cimarosa and Mozart sung by Fräulein Wotruba and Herr Ciliax. “The success of Herr Eck’s performances was great, and the applause enthusiastic and reiterated. I also, had never before heard him play so well in public.”
On the 20th Oct. we went on to Königsberg and remained there till Nov. 18. Eck gave two concerts which were very well attended. Being introduced into many of the first houses by letters of introduction, we were constantly invited to dinner as well as to musical parties. In the house of the “Surgeon-General” Gerlach, I often practised music with Fräulein Gerlach, who was a thoroughly cultivated dilettante, and an excellent pianiste; and who also sang my new songs. Whether these had any artistic worth is now not to be ascertained, for they have been lost. I sometimes played quartetts with two Messrs. Friedländer. It was not however these quartett parties alone that attracted me to their house; Fräul. Rebecca Oppenheim, the younger sister of Madame Friedländer, had again inflamed my too susceptible heart. She was a Jewess, and the society that frequented the house consisted almost entirely of Jews only; but they were all polite and educated people. The day on which I took leave, I found Madame Friedländer and Fräul. Rebecca alone. The latter was overflowing with wit and humour, and we never ceased laughing, and jesting, although this but ill suited the purport of my visit. “It is fortunate,” says my diary, “that we leave to-morrow, for Rebecca is a dangerous girl! He who loves his freedom and his peace must fly from her, and the sooner the better.”
Before Herr Eck gave his first concert, the family Pixis arrived at Königsberg upon their return from St. Petersburgh. I immediately renewed our acquaintance. The eldest brother had in the mean time grown very tall, and his soprano voice had changed to a deep bass. But he still dressed “à l’enfant with a turn-down collar and no necktie”. They were much dissatisfied with their journey to Russia, and the father even affirmed that he was a thousand rubles out of pocket during their stay in St. Petersburgh, although he had taken with him two hundred letters of introduction.
We met at a musical party at Count Calnheim’s, where the youngest played first of all some variations on the piano with great execution and taste. The eldest then played a quartett by Krommer. But neither the composition, nor his playing pleased me. “His tones”, says a remark in my diary, “are without power, and his execution without expression. Added to this, he handled his bow so badly, that, if he does not alter this, he will never become a perfect virtuoso. He holds the bow a hand’s breadth from the nut, and raises the right arm much too high. In this manner, all strength fails him in the stroke, and the shades of piano and forte vanish altogether in his playing.” After him, Herr Eck also played a quartett by Krommer. “But Heavens! what a difference was there! The transitions from forte to piano in his tones, the clearness of the passages, the tasteful fioriture by which he knew how to enhance the most common place composition, lent an irresistable charm to his playing. He gained also, the most undivided applause. Pixis then played a quartett by Tietz, the celebrated crazy violinist of St. Petersburgh, but had just as little success with it as with his former one. At last, he begged Herr Eck to play a duet by Viotti with him, in order that he might be able to say that he had played with all the great violinists of the day; for Viotti, Rode, Kreutzer, Iwanovichi, Tietz, Durand and others, had all done him that honour. In this request all the company joined, and Herr Eck was obliged to consent. Pixis played this duet best of all, although he did not bring out one of the passages as well as Herr Eck, who was not at all prepared for it.”
In the Concert also, which the brothers gave, the eldest had no success, “the passages were flat and without expression: he even played very false, and at times scraped so much as to inflict pain on the ears of the audience.... According to my idea, three years ago when I heard him for the first time in Brunswick, he played the easy Concertos of Iwanovichi and others, better than the difficult ones with which he now came forward.” Yes, I even doubted whether he ever could become a great violinist, “unless he soon got a good master, who, of all things, could give him a good style of bow-ing.”
Upon these doubtless too severe criticisms my Instructor who was a very stern judge, may certainly have had some influence. When, ten years later, I again met Pixis in Vienna, he had become a distinguished virtuoso, and as Professor at the Conservatory in Prague, he proved himself also an able teacher of the violin.
In Königsberg, I began again to paint. I made the acquaintance of a miniature painter, named Seidel, who gave me some lessons, and sat to me. The picture was very like. My diary speaks also of composing. From a remark about the polishing down of a Concerto, it is evident that at that time, I did not understand how to work of a piece; in which I afterwards succeeded so well, that, the rough draught, seldom suffered even from slight changes, and, once written in score, it was never altered afterwards.
For our journey to Memel, “we chose the road along the shore, being twelve miles (German) shorter than that across the country. In winter also, when the sand is hard frozen, it is better to drive on than the latter. Three miles from Königsberg, the road runs close to the sea, and does not leave it until you reach Memel. We travelled the whole night, and suffered much from the cold and cutting sea air. Between the fourth and fifth station we had the misfortune to have a wheel come off. We were now obliged to quit the carriage, to right it by our united strength, and secure the wheel temporarily with ropes. All this may have lasted a full half hour, and I feared I had got my fingers frostbitten; but this I happily found to be groundless. At nine o’clock we reached Memel, but were obliged to wait three whole hours until we could be carried across the harbour, because the boatmen had first to be collected from all parts of the town. Four miles farther we reached the frontiers.”
We arrived at Mittau with a large addition to our number; for Myrrha, without our remarking it, had brought forth nine pups, six living and three dead. “All, excepting two, were taken away from the poor mother.”
In the families to whom Herr Eck was recommended, we found the most hospitable welcome. We were invited to dinners, suppers, musical parties and balls; and everything was done to render our stay agreeable. In the house of a “Collegiate-Assessor”, von Berner, I played for the first time in the place and in the presence of my teacher. It happened thus; Herr Eck, after having played some quartetts with great applause, was solicited to accompany a young Pianiste of 16 years of age, a Miss Brandt, who was possessed of a surprising skill, in a Sonata of Beethoven’s; but he excused himself on the plea of great fatigue. As I well knew that Eck did not dare to play any piece at sight, that he did not know, I offered to play in his stead. It is true, the Sonata was wholly unknown to me, but I trusted to my readiness in reading. I was successful; and the young Artist, in whom probably but little confidence had been felt, was overwhelmed with praise.
At the subsequent musical parties, I was now always solicited to play something; and I remember that Herr von Berner on my taking leave of him, said to me with fatherly kindness: “My young friend, you are on the right road—only keep in it! Herr Eck as a Virtuoso is certainly still above you; but you are a much better musician than he is.”
In the Governor’s house I heard a Violinist of the name of Sogeneff, who at that time was very celebrated in Russia, and a serf of Prince Subow. “He played variations of his own composition, which were immensely difficult. The composition pleased me right well, but his play, although skilful, was very raw, and offensive to the ear. Herr Eck played immediately after him, so that the difference between the two Players was very distinctly perceptible. The play of the Russian, was wild and without transition from forte to piano; that of Herr Eck firm, powerful, and still, always harmonious. We heard there, also, some Russian military singers. They were six private soldiers, some of whom sang soprano parts. They shrieked fearfully, so much so that one was almost obliged to stop ones ears. They are practised in singing by a non commissioned Officer, cane in hand. In some songs they accompanied themselves on sort of Schalmey of so piercing a tone, that I expected the ladies would have fainted away. The Melodies of the songs were not bad, but accompanied by a great deal of false harmonics.”
At a club in the house in which we lived, I was invited to a card party “with three Excellencies, but was obliged to pay dearly for the great honour, for I lost more than three thalers in a few hours.”
Our departure for Riga was put off until December the second, on account of Herr Eck’s recurring indisposition. I spent my evenings at the houses of Herr von Berner and von Korf, in turn, and constantly practised with Fräulein Brandt. We played through the whole store of sonatas with violin accompaniment, and many of the masterpieces of Mozart and Beethoven were thus brought under my notice for the first time. After supper we chatted for an hour, or Frau von Korf played at chess with me, a game which from my childhood, I had been passionately fond of.
Herr von Berner, who had become attached to me, invited me to pass some months with him in the country, upon my return from Petersburgh; and then to give some Concerts about midsummer, a season in which all the Courland nobility are assembled at Mitau. It gave me great satisfaction to hear that I was considered far enough advanced to appear in public as a virtuoso. I gladly consented.
It is odd that there is nothing mentioned in my diary about the children of Herr Berner; for one of his daughters who afterwards became a pupil of Rode, and distinguished herself as a violin player, must already then have been very nearly grown up.
At last the hour of our departure came, and with a moved and grateful heart I took leave of the families who had so kindly welcomed me.
In Riga, I found a letter from Brunswick, that gave me much pleasure. I had asked permission of the Duke to dedicate my new Concerto, as my first published work, to him; and the answer written by the Lord Chamberlain von Münchhausen, brought the consent to my request. Full of impatience to see my work appear, I begged Herr Eck to write to Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipsic, with whom he was in correspondance, to propose the publishing of the concerto. The reply soon arrived, but was very discouraging to me.
For the consolation of the young Composer who can find no publisher for his first work, the conditions upon which the above named firm consented to undertake its publication, may be mentioned. I had myself given up all claim to payment, and only stipulated for some free copies. The firm required however that I should buy one hundred copies at half the selling-price! At first my youthful Artist-pride rebelled against such dishonourable conditions, as I deemed them. But the wish to see the publication of the concerto so expedited, that, upon our return to Brunswick, I might be able to present the Duke with a printed copy; joined to the hope that he would make me a present, assisted me to conquer my sensitiveness, and agree to the conditions. The concerto was finished in time, and when I returned, was lying ready at a Music-seller’s in Brunswick; but the package was not delivered to me before I had paid for the hundred copies.
In Riga, Herr Eck had a quarrel with the Society of Musical Dilettanti there. Being in possession of the Concert room; they required from him, as from all foreign artists, that he should first perform in their concert, for which they were ready to give him up the room and orchestra, for his own concert afterwards. Herr Eck refused to comply with these conditions and would rather give up his own concert altogether. This made the company more compliant; and they declared themselves satisfied, if he would agree to play in no other concert than theirs, after his own. He consented to this, on the condition that they would be silent about it beforehand: because he had been told that the subscribers to the dilettanti concerts would be unwilling to pay for an extra-concert, if they were sure of hearing the foreign Artist in the former. Silence, however, was not kept, and the consequence was that Herr Eck’s concert was badly attended. Angry at this, he now demanded the sum of fifty ducats for his appearance in their concert, as a remuneration for the loss which their gossiping had caused him. The gentlemen directors, feeling in some degree that they had been wrong; after long debating, agreed to pay thirty ducats. Herr Eck, however, stood by his first demand. The gentlemen now threatened to make the police compel him to appear; and he was actually summoned before the Chief of the police. But he succeeded in winning him over to his cause, and the gentlemen directors were dismissed, with their charge. At last, upon the day of the concert, after the bills parading forth the name of Herr Eck, had been posted up at the corners of the streets, they vouchsafed to grant the required demand; but they were not a little surprised at the declaration of Herr Eck, that, now, after having been summoned before the police he would not play at all, not even for double the sum demanded. All their threatning and storming was of no avail; they were obliged to give their concert without him. “I was there,” says the diary, “and much enjoyed the fermentation that prevailed among the dilettanti. Nothing but Herr Eck and his refusal were spoken of; but nobody said one single word in his favour; all were too much annoyed at their disappointed expectations. The concert went off badly. A virtuoso on the flute, from Stockholm, who first played an old fashioned concerto by Devienne in place of Herr Eck, pleased as little as a dilettante from St. Petersburgh, who executed a concerto for the piano by Mozart, in a most schoolboy-like manner.”
Eck, had however won the good will of the Director of the police, by having offered to give a concert for the benefit of the Nikolai Asylum for the poor. Meirer, the Director of the Theatre, gave the house gratis, and Messeurs Arnold and Ohmann, as well as the ladies Werther and Bauser gave their vocal services. The Musical Society did all they could to put a stop to it; but in vain. “Immediately upon his appearance Herr Eck was received with the liveliest applause, which was still more increased after he had played. The proceeds, after deducting the expenses, amounted to more than a hundred ducats, which were handed over to the cashier of the Asylum; but a gift of one hundred ducats from the nobility present was also made to Herr Eck, and the next morning, fifty more followed from several rich merchants, who did not wish to be behindhand in generosity.”
Among the many invitations, one is also mentioned in the diary, to the house of the rich sugar baker Klein, who “kept no less than three tutors for his children”—a German, a Frenchman and a Russian.
On the seventeenth of December we quitted Riga. In Narwa the governor, a great lover of music, who had seen from the Paderoschna, which we were obliged to deliver up at the gate of the town, to be examined, what a celebrated Artist was passing through, invited us immediately for the evening. “Our excuse, that we could not appear in our travelling clothes, was not accepted. The governor sent his state carriage, and we were carried off half by force. The embarrassment at finding ourselves all at once in the midst of a brilliant society, clad in travelling costume, very soon wore off after the friendly welcome and obliging politeness of those present, and we passed a pleasant evening. At one o’clock when the party broke up, we found our carriage with post-horses ready before the door, and set out immediately.
But, between Narwa and St. Petersburgh, one misfortune after the other occured to us. Two stations on this side of St. Petersburgh, we were persuaded to place our carriage upon a sledge. But hardly had we driven half an hour in it, when the cords with which it was fastened, broke, and we could get on no farther. The postillion was obliged to get some peasants from the neighbouring village to help us. After the job was done, they made us understand by signs that we were to pay them five rubles. Very angry at this shameful demand, we refused to give so much, but as they shewed the intention of cutting the cords with which they had bound the wheels, with their axes; and as we saw that we could not contend against the crowd of wild looking fellows who by degrees had surrounded our carriage, we were obliged to comply with the demand.
“After a halt of more than an hour we were at last enabled to proceed; but it was not long before we stuck fast in the snow, and it was only by the help of several peasants whom we called to assist us, that we were able to extricate ourselves. We now found that in the deep snow, the sledge hindered more than it served us, and we had the carriage taken off. After this was done, and paid for, we were enabled to proceed; but again seven times did we stick fast, so that no less than sixteen hours were necessary to accomplish this post of three miles. As we came nearer to St. Petersburgh we found the roads better, and were also driven faster. At last, Wednesday the 22. at nine in the evening, we arrived; after being six days and five nights upon the road. The last part of the journey from Narwa to St. Petersburgh is dreadfully uniform and tiresome. The perfectly straight road cut through the fir forests, with the party coloured Werst-stones, each exactly like the other, are enough to weary the most patient! Seldom only does the endless forest open, to disclose a few buildings, or a miserable village. The houses, or rather the huts of these villages, have for the most part, one room only, with a window a foot square. In this room, men and animals live together quite peaceably. The walls consist of unhewn beams laid upon each-other, the crevices being filled up with moss. It cannot certainly be very warm in these holes; but the inhabitants do not seem to care for that; for I saw children and grown up people running about in their shirts, and barefoot in the snow. The poorer and more wretched the objects appear during the journey, the more surprising is the magnificent St. Petersburgh and its palaces..... We descended at the Hôtel de Londres, and immediately engaged a guide, without whom one cannot be here even for one day; for as soon as the stranger is shown his room, not a soul troubles himself about him any farther.”
In St. Petersburgh, I was at first quite left to myself. This would therefore have been the most favorable opportunity for me to look round that splendid city. But the extreme cold, which already exceeded twenty degrees, would not permit of this. I therefore continued to work with my usual diligence, and indeed with increased zeal, for the period of Herr Eck’s instruction was more than half elapsed.—Through a member of the Imperial orchestra we were introduced into the “Citizen Club,” and there made the acquaintance of almost all the celebrated artistes and scholars then in St. Petersburgh. Among others, my diary mentions Clementi, his pupil Field, the violinist Hartmann, the first violin of the Imperial orchestra, Remi, also a member of the orchestra, Leveque, the son of the leader in Hanover, and director of an orchestra of serfs belonging the senator Teplow, Bärwald from Stockholm, the hornist Bornaus, and others.
Clementi, “a man in his best years, of an extremely lively disposition, and very engaging manners,” liked much to converse with me “(in French, which from my great practice in St. Petersburgh I soon spoke pretty fluently)” and often invited me after dinner to play at billiards. In the evening, I sometimes accompanied him to his large pianoforte warehouse, where Field was often obliged to play for hours, to display the instruments to the best advantage to the purchasers. The diary speaks with great satisfaction of the technical perfection and the “dreamy melancholy” of that young artist’s execution. I have still in recollection the figure of the pale, overgrown youth, whom I have never since seen. When Field, who had outgrown his clothes, placed himself at the piano, stretched out his arms over the keyboard, so that the sleeves shrunk up nearly to his elbows, his whole figure appeared awkward and stiff in the highest degree; but as soon as his touching instrumentation began, everything else was forgotten, and one became all ear. Unhappily, I could not express my emotion and thankfulness to the young man otherwise than by a silent pressure of the hand, for he spoke no other language, but his mother tongue.
Even at that time, many anecdotes of the remarkable avarice of the rich Clementi were related, which had greatly increased in latter years when I again met him in London. It was generally reported that Field was kept on very short allowance by his master, and was obliged to pay for the good fortune of having his instruction, with many privations. I myself experienced a little sample of Clementi’s true Italian parsimony, for one day I found teacher and pupil with up turned sleeves, engaged at the washtub, washing their stockings and other linen. They did not suffer themselves to be disturbed, and Clementi advised me to do the same, as washing in St. Petersburgh was not only very expensive, but the linen suffered greatly from the method used in washing it.
Of all the acquaintances I made in the Citizen’s Club, none were dearer to me than my young friend Remi. The diary speaks of him immediately after our first meeting, as a “polite and charming young Frenchman.” The same enthusiasm for art, the same studies and the same inclinations bound us yet closer to each-other. We met every day at dinner at the Citizen’s Club, when I was not invited out with my Instructor; and when in the evening there was no Opera or Concert in which Remi was engaged, we played duets, of which Remi possessed a great collection, till late in the night. There were many evenings in that cold winter on which the Theatre was closed; for by an ukas of the benevolent Emperor Alexander, all public amusements were forbidden when the cold should exceed seventeen degrees, in order that the coachmen and servants might not be exposed to the danger of being frozen to death. And during that winter, the cold often remained at above seventeen degrees for a fortnight together. That was a dull, monotonous time for foreigners. But foreign artistes, were still worse off, for they were unable to give their concerts. When the cold fell below seventeen degrees there were notices innumerable; but they were often obliged to be recalled on the following day. Herr Eck’s public concert was also postponed till March 6. O. S. after having been announced more than once. In the mean time however, he played twice at Court at the private Concerts of the Empress, and pleased so much, particularly the second time, that the Empress had him engaged as solo player in the Imperial Orchestra at a salary of 3500 rubles.
The less frequently operas and concerts took place in the cold months of January and February, the more diligently I attended them, in order to become more nearly acquainted with the native and foreign talent. I also saw and heard Tietz the celebrated crazy violin player. He was a man of about forty years of age, with a ruddy complexion, and pleasing exterior. His appearance in no wise showed his insanity. We therefore were the more astonished when he addressed every one with the question, “My most gracious monarch, how are you?” He then related to us a long affair in which was but little evidence of sanity; complained bitterly about a malicious sorcerer, who, jealous of his violin playing had so bewitched the middle finger of his left hand that he could no longer play; but at last expressed the hope that he would still be able to conquer the spell—and so forth. On taking leave of us he fell upon his knees before Herr Eck, kissed his hand, before the latter could prevent it, and said, “My most gracious Monarch, I must do homage to thee and thine art, upon my knees!”
Four months later, in the beginning of May 1803, all St. Petersburgh rang with the sudden news that Tietz, whom the Russians in their blind patriotism regarded as the first violinist in the world, and who on account of his madness had not played for six months, had suddenly commenced again. Leveque related the nearer particulars to me. Tietz had been invited to a musical party at the Senator Teplow’s, but had refused to play in spite of all entreaty; Herr Teplow, much annoyed, sent away the orchestra saying, “Then I also will never again hear music!” This made so deep an impression upon Tietz that he said, “most gracious Monarch, have the orchestra recalled; I will play a symphony to their accompaniment.” This took place, and having once began, he played quartets until two o’clock in the morning. The next day the amateurs assembled in his house and he played again. This gave me the hope of hearing him also, and on that account I hastened to him on May the second (20. April). Many amateurs were once more assembled there, who again beseiged him with requests to play; this time however in vain. He was not to be moved, and I afterwards heard that some one had been of the party whom he did not like.
On the eighteenth of May I took my new duet and my violin, and went again to Herr Tietz, whom I this time found alone. It did not require much to persuade him to play the duet; but he would not take the primo. We had hardly ended, when Herr Hirschfeld, hornist in the Imperial orchestra, and others with whom I was unacquainted, came in. Herr Tietz begged me to repeat the duet, and it appeared to please not him alone, but also the others. Herr Tietz now opened a quartet by Haydn, and required me to take the first violin. He himself took the violoncello part. As the quartet was known to me, I did not refuse. It was pretty well executed, and Herr Tietz, as well as the others present, overwhelmed me with praises. Tietz played the secondo of my duet, which is not easy, without faltering and perfectly clean, executing the cantabile passages with taste and feeling. The passages which, according to the old method, he played with rebounding bow, pleased me less.
On the 23rd May, we met Tietz at the weekly evening concert of the Senator Teplow, where a pianiste named Madame Meier appeared, and played a piano concerto of her own composition, which was not bad. Then Eck and I followed with a concerto of his brother’s, which we had been closely practising for the previous fortnight. At the beginning, I was nervous, and played the first solo not so well as at home; but it soon went on better, particularly in the last parts.
Herr Tietz now produced a concerto of his own composition, the Allegro and Rondo of which he played twice, possibly because the first time did not please him. As he never had practised since his madness, it may be readily conceived that technical firmness was wanting in his play. The difficult passages also, were executed very much better the second time. Into all the three parts, he introduced cadences in the old style, improvising them; they were in themselves very pretty, but sounded quite different the second time.
The diary closes with the remark, “though Tietz indeed is not a great violinist, much less the greatest in the world as his admirers maintain, he is undoubtedly a musical genius as his compositions prove.”
The best violinist then in St. Petersburgh was, without doubt, Fränzel junior. He had just come from Moscow where he had been engaged for six concerts at three thousand rubles. His attitude in playing displeased me. The diary says:
“He holds the violin still in the old manner, on the right side of the tail piece, and must therefore play with his head bent...... To this must be added that, he raised the right arm very high, and has the bad habit of elevating his eyebrows at the expressive passages. If this is not unpleasant to the majority of the listeners it is still very disagreeable for a violinist to see...... His playing is pure and clean. In the Adagio parts, he executes many runs, shakes, and other fioriture, with a rare clearness and delicacy. As soon however as he played loud, his tone is rough and unpleasant, because he draws his bow too slowly and too near to the bridge, and leans it too much to one side. He executed the passages clearly and purely, but always with the middle of the bow, and consequently without distinction of piano and forte.”
I heard another celebrated violinist, Herr Bärwald, afterwards leader in Stockholm. As he came forward to play the concerto of Viotti (A-sharp) he was already applauded, before he had sounded a note.
This, together with his good bearing and his excellent manner of managing his bow, raised my expectation very high, and it was with the greatest impatience that I awaited the end of the Tutti. But how was I disappointed on hearing the solo! His playing was indeed clean and accomplished, but still so sleeply and monotonous, the passages so flat and drawn out, that I would have much preferred the false but still fiery playing of Pixis. He introduced, and played an Adagio of his father’s composition, something better, and thus somewhat reconciled me again. After him, one Herr Palzow, a man celebrated for his theoretical knowledge, played a concerto of his own composition, on a piano with a flute attachment. Well and scientifically as the concerto was worked out, it pleased neither me nor the others listeners, on account of its length and monotony. The tones also of the strings and of the flute had together a very bad effect.
I also wrote my opinion of Fodor, the then celebrated violinist and composer. I heard him in the concert of the “Nobility’s, or Musical club,” where however everything was very unmusical; for the elite assembled there, “not to listen, but to chat and walk about in the saloon.” At first a fine symphony by Romberg, (C-sharp) was extremely well executed. Then Signor Pasco, first tenorist of the Italian theatre, sang an aria so charmingly, tastefully and tenderly, that it actually became somewhat more quiet in the saloon. Herr Fodor now followed with a concerto of his own composition, which however appeared to me worse than those I already knew. His playing also did not please me. He played indeed in a pure and rather accomplished manner, but without warmth and taste. In the passages he also played with rebounding bow, which soon became unbearable. Madame Canavassi, prima donna of the Italian opera who before had not pleased me on the stage, sung this time so beautifully, that I must confess to having wronged her.
During Lent, the Greek church allowing no theatrical representations, the Intendancy of the Court theatre gave two grand concerts weekly in the Steiner theatre, in which, only virtuosi of the Imperial orchestra performed, among whom Herr Eck was now reckoned. The best whom I had the opportunity of hearing there were the violinist Hartmann, Jerchow and Remi, the violinist Delphino, the hautboyist Scherwenka, and the hornist Hirschfeld.
In the first concert, the orchestra consisted of thirty six violins, twenty bass and double set wind instruments. Besides these the choruses were supported by forty hornists from the Imperial orchestra, each of whom had only one single note to blow. They served in place of an organ, and gave the chorus, the notes of which were divided among them, great firmness and strength. In several short soli, their effect was ravishing. Before the orchestra, were the Court singers, men and boys, about fifty in number, all in red uniform embroidered with gold. After the first part of Sarti’s oratorio, Remi played a violin concerto by Alday with much success. “After the concert as we drove home, he asked me for my opinion of his playing. As truth alone should be spoken between friends I did not withold from him that: clean and pure as his playing was, I had yet missed the shades of forte and piano, expression in the cantabile, and a sufficiency of vigour in the passages. He thanked me for my candour and declared that he had been particularly embarrassed that day, at having to appear in Herr Eck’s place, the latter having previously been advertised for this concerto.”—After the second part of the oratorio, Signor Delphino played a violin concerto. As his playing was much extolled I had expected more from him. “He played without taste, and not once perfectly clean.”
The Italian singers appeared in the second concert, and the French in the third. Among the first, Signor Pasco and Madame Canavassi, already mentioned, distinguished themselves. Among the French there were only two, M. St. Leon and the celebrated Phyllis Andrieux, who could lay claim to be called singers; they had charmed all Petersburgh by their correct and pleasing singing, their skilful and graceful acting, and their personal beauty. There was especially a Polonaise with which the latter fascinated everybody, and which was always encored. The beginning of it is found in my diary as follows:
