Famous Violinists of To-day and Yesterday Part 8

The remaining years of Ole Bull's life were spent in comparative freedom from strife and struggle. He spent much of his time in Norway, but also found time for many concert tours. His sixty-sixth birthday was spent in Egypt, and he solemnised the occasion by ascending the Pyramid of Cheops and playing, on its pinnacle, his "Saeter-besog." This performance took place at the suggestion of the King of Sweden, to whom the account was duly telegraphed the next morning from Cairo.

In Boston Ole Bull was always a great favourite and had many friends. He felt much interest in the Nors.e.m.e.n's discovery of America, and took steps to bring the subject before the people of Boston. The result of his efforts is to be seen in the statue of Lief Ericsson, commemorative of the event, which adorns the Public Gardens.

In March and April, 1880, Ole Bull appeared at a few concerts in the Eastern cities, with Miss Thursby, and in June he sailed, for the last time, from America. He was in poor health, but, contrary to all hopes, the sea voyage did not improve his condition, and much anxiety was felt until his home was reached. A few weeks later he died, and, at the funeral, honours more than royal were shown. In the city of Bergen all business was suspended, and the whole population of the city stood waiting to pay their last respects to the celebrated musician and patriot.

Ole Bull was a man of remarkable character and an artist of undoubted genius. All who heard him, or came in contact with him, agree that he was far from being an ordinary man. Tall, of athletic build, with large blue eyes and rich flaxen hair, he was the very type of the Norseman, and there was something in his personal appearance and conversation which acted with almost magnetic power on those who approached him. He was a prince of story-tellers, and his fascination in this respect was irresistible to young and old alike, and its effect not unlike his violin playing.

In regard to his playing, his technical proficiency was such as very few violinists have ever attained to. His double stopping was perfect, his staccato, both upward and downward, of the utmost brilliancy, and though he cannot be considered a serious musician in the highest sense of the word, he played with warm and poetical, if somewhat sentimental, feeling. He has often been described as the "flaxen-haired Paganini,"

and his style was to a great extent influenced by Paganini, but only so far as technicalities are concerned. In every other respect there was a wide difference, for while Paganini's manner was such as to induce his hearers to believe that they were under the spell of a demon, Ole Bull took his hearers to the dreamy moonlit regions of the North. It is this power of conveying a highly poetic charm which enabled him to fascinate his audiences, and it is a power far beyond any mere trickster or charlatan. He was frequently condemned by the critics for playing popular airs, which indeed formed his greatest attraction for the ma.s.ses of the people. He seldom played the most serious music, in fact, he confined himself almost entirely to his own compositions, most of which were of a nature to meet the demand of his American audiences.

When Ole Bull played in Boston in 1852, after having been absent for several years, during which time other violinists had been heard, John S. Dwight wrote of his performance thus: "We are wearied and confused by any music, however strongly tinged with any national or individual spirit, however expressive in detail, skilful in execution, and original or bold, or intense in feeling, if it does not at the same time impress us by its unity as a whole, by its development from first to last of one or more pregnant themes. As compositions, therefore, we do not feel reconciled to what Ole Bull seems fond of playing.... He cannot be judged by the usual standards, his genius is exceptional, intensely individual in all its forms and methods, belongs to the very extreme of the romantic as distinguished from the cla.s.sical in art. He makes use of the violin and of the orchestra, in short of music, simply and mainly to impress his own personal moods, his own personal experience, upon the audiences. You go to hear Ole Bull, rather than to hear and feel his music. It is eminently a personal matter.... Considered simply as an executive power, he seems, after hearing so many good violinists for years past, to exceed them all--always excepting Henri Vieuxtemps."

It may be said with truth that Ole Bull achieved his reputation at a time when it was comparatively easy to do so. There was very little musical cultivation in this country when he first appeared here, as may be easily imagined by a glance at the extracts from criticisms, given here and there. By his strong personality, apparent mastery of his instrument, and by being practically the sole occupant of the field, he became famous and popular. He prided himself on the fact that his playing was addressed rather to the hearts than to the sensitive ears of his audiences, and during his later years he adopted certain mannerisms by way of distracting attention from his somewhat imperfect performances. He never made any pretension to being a musician of the modern school, nor of any regularly recognised school of music, but his concert pieces were his own compositions, of no great merit, and he still more delighted his audiences by playing national airs as no one had ever played them before. He was a minstrel rather than a musician in the broad sense of the word, but he held the hearts of the people as few, if any, minstrels had previously done.

CHAPTER VII.

1830 TO 1850.

One of the most noticeable features of the biography of the violin virtuoso is that he invariably displays great talent at an early age and plays in public at any time from eight to twelve years old. There are doubtless more who do this than are ever heard of at a later day, for the idea of the infant phenomenon is alluring. The way of the violinist is hard. He has many years of study and self-denial before him, if he is to excel as a musician. Therefore the infant who can be exploited in such a manner as to make money provides for his future education, unless hard work or flattery kill him physically or intellectually before he is ripe. Many prodigies sink into oblivion,--some few rise to celebrity.

It will be noticed that the violinists who played in public while very young have invariably settled down afterward to serious study, and at a more mature age have thus been able to take their place in the musical world.

Year by year, too, the demands upon the violinist have been greater. A virtuoso is judged rather by the standard of Beethoven's concerto than by his ability to perform musical gymnastics with operatic selections.

Nevertheless, it is a fact that many of the best known violinists were those who catered to the taste of the mult.i.tude, while many better musicians have been comparatively unknown.

Among celebrated violinists few have led more romantic or adventurous lives than Edouard Remenyi, whose name is not yet forgotten in this country. Born at Hewes, in Hungary, in 1830, he possessed the restless spirit of his race, fought in the insurrection of 1848, escaped to the United States when the insurrection was crushed, but was received into favour again a few years later, on his return to his native land.

From his twelfth to his fifteenth year he studied the violin at the Vienna Conservatoire under Bohm, who was also the teacher of Joachim. In 1848 he became adjutant to the distinguished General Gorgey, and fought under Kossuth and Klapka in the war with Austria. Then came the flight to America, where he made a tour as a virtuoso, but in 1853 he visited Weimar, and sought out Franz Liszt, who at once recognised his genius and became his friend and guide.

In 1854 he went to London and was appointed solo violinist in the queen's band, but when in 1860 he obtained his amnesty and returned to Hungary he was created solo violinist in the band of the Emperor of Austria.

His restless disposition would not allow him to remain long in one place, and in 1865 he once more began to travel. He visited Paris, where he created a perfect furore, and then continued his triumphant course through Germany, Holland, and Belgium. After settling in Paris for about two years, he returned in 1877 to London, where he repeated his Parisian successes, appearing, as in Paris, chiefly in the salons of wealthy patrons. During this visit to London he appeared in public only once, at Mapleson's benefit at the Crystal Palace, when he played a fantasia on themes from the "Huguenots." The following year he went once more to the United States, and on his way played at the promenade concerts in London. In America he remained for some years, and then proceeded in 1887 to the Cape of Good Hope and Madagascar. While on this voyage it was reported that his ship was wrecked and that he was drowned, and numerous obituary notices of him appeared in the newspapers throughout the world.

In 1891 he was once more in London, and played at the house of the late Colonel North, "the Nitrate King." He now returned to the United States, where he pa.s.sed the remainder of his days. His powers were, however, failing, and other violinists had brought new and perhaps higher interest to American audiences.

When Remenyi visited the United States in 1878, he arrived a few weeks after Wilhelmj, and notwithstanding the fact that the two violinists were widely different in temperament, ideas, musicianship, in fact in every particular, they were frequently made the subjects of comparison.

At this time Remenyi played an "Otello Fantaisie," "Suwanee River,"

"Grandfather's Clock," etc. He was well sketched in a journal of the time, which said:

"Remenyi is gifted with a vivacious, generous, rather mocking disposition which rebels against monotony, and whose originality shines through everything, and in spite of everything. He is fluent in five or six languages, and entertains with droll conceits, or with reminiscences of famous artists and composers....

In the wild rhythms of the gypsy dance, in the fierce splendour of the patriotic hymn, the player and audience alike are fired with excitement. The pa.s.sion rises, the tumult waxes furious; a tremendous sweep of the bow brings the music to an end; and then we can say that we have heard Remenyi."

The gypsy dance and the patriotic hymn! And yet he was weighed in the balance with Wilhelmj, who played the grandest and best music in the most refined, musicianly manner, and whose tour in America marked an epoch in the musical life of the country.

In his prime Remenyi was the master of an enormous technique, and the possessor of a strongly p.r.o.nounced poetic individuality. His whole soul was in his playing, and his impulse carried him away with it as he warmed to his task, and it carried the audience too. His greatest success was in the playing of Hungarian music, some of which he adapted for his instrument, but the stormier pieces of Chopin which he arranged for the violin were given by him with tremendous effect. In the more tender pieces, such as the nocturnes of Field and of Chopin, he played with the utmost dreaminess.

His individuality showed in his playing. He was impulsive and uncertain,--a wandering musician, who, when the whim took him, would disappear from public view altogether. When he made a success in any place his restless nature would not allow him to follow it up, so that when his prime was past, instead of having formed connections which should have lasted him for the rest of his life, he was still the wandering musician, but without the marvellous powers which he had wielded only a few years before.

During his long career he toured Australia and almost all the islands of the Pacific, also Java, China, and j.a.pan; in fact, he went where few, if any, violinists of his ability had been before.

Once upon a time the representative of a London newspaper went to interview Remenyi, and was surprised to find that the violinist was not only willing to tell him much, but even proposed questions which he should answer. He said that he had played in the 60's before the natives of South Africa, and had been shipwrecked, after which he had the pleasure of reading some very fine obituary notices. In New Zealand he found the Maoris perfectly reckless in their demand for encores, and instead of playing six pieces, as announced on his programmes, he frequently had to play sixteen.

In South Africa he discovered thirty out of his collection of forty-seven old and valuable violins. Most of them were probably the property of the Huguenots, who after the edict of Nantes went to Holland and thence to South Africa, to which place they were banished by the Dutch government.

It was related by Remenyi that when he was a young man in Hamburg, in 1853, he was to appear at a fashionable soiree one night, but at the last moment his accompanist was too ill to play. Remenyi went to a music store and asked for an accompanist. The proprietor sent Johannes Brahms, then a lad of sixteen, who was struggling for existence and teaching for a very small sum. Remenyi and Brahms became so interested in each other that they forgot all about the soiree, and sat up till four the next morning chatting and playing together. Remenyi's negligence of his engagement resulted in the loss of any further business in Hamburg, and together with Brahms he set out for Hanover, giving concerts as they went, and thus earning sufficient funds to carry them on their way.

At Hanover they called upon Joachim, who arranged for them to play before the court. After this they proceeded to the Altenberg to see Liszt, who received them warmly, and offered them a home. During all this time Brahms received little or no recognition, in spite of Remenyi's enthusiasm in his cause, neither did he find very much favour with Liszt, although the latter recognised his talent. He therefore returned to Hanover, where Joachim gave him a letter to Schumann, and it was Schumann's enthusiastic welcome and declaration that a new genius had arisen that established Brahms's reputation in musical circles.

Remenyi said that Brahms, shortly after his arrival at the Altenberg, offended Liszt and his pupils by comfortably sleeping during one of the famous lessons, which were in the nature of a general cla.s.s. This breach of manners Brahms justified on the score of being exhausted by his previous journey.

The death of Remenyi, which occurred on May 15, 1898, created a sensation throughout the country. He had, after many misgivings, consented to appear in "vaudeville." The financial inducement was large, and he soothed his artistic conscience with the argument that his music would tend to elevate the vaudeville rather than that the vaudeville would tend to degrade him. It was at the Orpheus Theatre in San Francisco, and it was his first appearance. He played one or two selections, and being tremendously applauded, and correspondingly gratified, he returned and answered the encore with the well-known "Old Glory." He was in his best vein, and played as one inspired. The audience literally rose with him, leaving their seats in their excitement, and the applause lasted several minutes. He came forward, and in response to another burst of applause commenced to play Delibes's "Fizzicati." He had played but a few measures when he leaned over as if to speak to one of the musicians in the orchestra. He paused a moment, and then fell slowly forward on his face. One of the musicians caught him before he touched the stage, and thus prevented his rolling off. All was over.

Remenyi left a widow, a son, and a daughter, who lived in New York. His health had been failing for some time, for in 1896, for the first time in thirty years, he had, while in Davenport, Iowa, been compelled to cancel all his engagements and rest. It is said that Remenyi's real name was Hoffmann.

The name of Miska Hauser is seldom mentioned in these days, and yet it was once known all over the world. No virtuoso of his time travelled more extensively, and few created more enthusiasm than did Hauser. He was born in Pressburg, Hungary, in 1822, and became a pupil of Bohm and of Mayseder at Vienna, also of Kreutzer and Sechter. He is said to have acquired more of Mayseder's elegant style and incisive tone than of the characteristics of his other teachers, but his talent was devoted to the acquisition of virtuoso effects, which appeal to the majority rather than to the most cultivated.

As a boy of twelve Hauser made an extensive and successful concert tour.

In 1840 he toured Europe, and ten years later went to London, and thence to the West Indies and the United States, where he made quite a sensation, and was a member of Jenny Lind's company. He afterwards visited San Francisco, where he got himself into difficulties on account of Lola Montes. Then he went to South America, visiting Lima, where pa.s.sionate creoles languished for him, Santiago, where a set of fanatics excited the mob against him, declaring that he was charmed by the devil, and Valparaiso, where he suffered shipwreck.

He then proceeded to the Sandwich Islands, where he played before the royal family and all the dusky n.o.bles. They listened solemnly, but made no sign of approbation, and Hauser felt that he was sinking into a mere nothing in their esteem. In desperation he tore the strings from his violin and played, with all his power, several sentimental songs on the G string only. Then he gave them Paganini's witches' dance. This succeeded, and they gave a yell of joy and wanted more. They particularly delighted in harmonic effects, and before long were willing to do anything for the foreigner who could pipe on the wood as well as any bird. He became a hero at Otaheite, but was obliged to continue on his journey. He next visited Australia, and while in Sydney he made such a success that he was presented with the freedom of the city and thanked by the government for his playing.

In 1860 he reached Turkey, where he played before the Sultan, who beat time to his music and seemed highly delighted. Hauser had many amusing stories to tell of his travels, and especially of his experiences in the Sandwich Islands and Turkey, Cairo and Alexandria. His adventures, which were numerous and thrilling, were published in two volumes, in Vienna.

Hauser was not the possessor of a great technique, but there was something characteristic and charming in his tone and mannerisms, which were especially pleasing to the fair s.e.x. He was a man of restless, and, in some respects, dissatisfied nature. Some of his compositions are still to be found on concert programmes, and these he used to play exquisitely. Hauser lived in retirement in Vienna after concluding his travels, and in 1887 he died practically forgotten.

Few violinists succeeded more completely in captivating their audiences than Henri Wieniawski, whose impetuous Slavonic temperament, with its warm and tender feeling, gave a colour to his playing, which placed his hearers entirely under his control, went straight to their hearts, and enlisted their sympathy from the very first note. Both fingering and bowing were examples of the highest degree of excellence in violin technique, and difficulties did not exist for him. At times his fiery temperament may have led him to exaggeration, and to a step beyond the bounds of good taste, but this was lost sight of in the peculiar charm of his playing, its gracefulness and piquancy.

Wieniawski's tour in America, which took place in 1872, when he accompanied Rubinstein, may be said to mark an era in the musical life of this nation. These two great artists revealed the possibilities of the musical art to a people who, while loving music, were still in their infancy as far as musical development is concerned.

Wieniawski, like nearly all the great performers, showed his talent while very young. He was born in 1835 at Lublin, in Poland, where his father was a medical man. He was taken to Paris by his mother when he was only eight years old, and he entered the Conservatoire, where he soon joined Ma.s.sart's cla.s.s, and when only eleven gained the first prize for violin playing.

After this he made a concert tour in Poland and Russia, but soon returned to Paris to renew his studies, especially composition. In 1850 he went again on the road, and with his brother Joseph, a pianist, he gave concerts in most of the princ.i.p.al towns in the Netherlands, France, England, and Germany. In 1860 he was appointed solo violinist to the Emperor of Russia, and held that position for twelve years, residing chiefly at St. Petersburg.

It was at the conclusion of this engagement that he made his tour in the United States with Rubinstein, who was his intimate friend, and when the great pianist returned to Europe Wieniawski remained in America and succeeded in making a large fortune, travelling all over the country and creating a furore by his performances. This tour was cut short toward the end of 1874 by a telegram from Brussels offering him the position of professor of violin at the Conservatoire, during the illness of Vieuxtemps.

He remained in Brussels until 1877, when, Vieuxtemps becoming convalescent, Wieniawski set forth once more on his travels.

At this time his health was failing, and an incident took place at Berlin which is well worth recording. During a concert he was seized with a sudden spasm, and was compelled to stop in the middle of a concerto. Joachim was amongst the audience, and came to the rescue, taking up Wieniawski's violin and finishing the programme, thus showing his friendship for the sufferer and earning the enthusiastic applause of an appreciative audience.

Notwithstanding his sufferings, Wieniawski continued his tour, but at Odessa he broke down altogether.

It has been stated that he died unknown and friendless in the hospital at Moscow, and was buried by public charity; but his son, Jules Wieniawski, has contradicted this, and states that he died in the house of the Countess of Meek, and was buried by the Czar Alexander III., of whom he was the friend as well as the favourite violinist.

Wieniawski was a man of somewhat enthusiastic nature, and his actions were not always tempered by the most perfect wisdom. It was said that just before his marriage to Miss Hampton he took a run up the Rhine, not, like a wise man, waiting until he had some one to take proper care of him. The consequence was that he must just take an hour's look into Wiesbaden to see several old friends, and this led naturally to pa.s.sing an idle moment looking at the green table doings. Here the excitement became too great for one of his temperament, and he felt compelled to stake a small sum. A small sum led to a larger amount, and when he left the place he was poorer to the tune of forty thousand francs, and he came away to his bride a sadder and wiser man.

Although a great gambler, Wieniawski owed the loss of a large part of his fortune to the failure of a New York banking firm in 1873, rather than to his favourite propensity.