Memories of a Musical Life Part 8

NERVOUS BEFORE LISZT

Brahms, who was evidently very nervous, protested that it was quite impossible for him to play while in such a disconcerted state, and, notwithstanding the earnest solicitations of both Liszt and Remenyi, could not be persuaded to approach the piano. Liszt, seeing that no progress was being made, went over to the table, and taking up the first piece at hand, the illegible scherzo, and saying, "Well, I shall have to play," placed the ma.n.u.script on the piano-desk.

We had often witnessed his wonderful feats in sight-reading, and regarded him as infallible in that particular, but, notwithstanding our confidence in his ability, both Raff and I had a lurking dread of the possibility that something might happen which would be disastrous to our unquestioning faith. So, when he put the scherzo on the piano-desk, I trembled for the result. But he read it off in such a marvelous way--at the same time carrying on a running accompaniment of audible criticism of the music--that Brahms was amazed and delighted. Raff thought, and so expressed himself, that certain parts of this scherzo suggested the Chopin "Scherzo in B Flat Minor," but it seemed to me that the likeness was too slight to deserve serious consideration. Brahms said that he had never seen or heard any of Chopin's compositions. Liszt also played a part of Brahms's "C Major Sonata, Op. 1."

DOZING WHILE LISZT PLAYED

A little later some one asked Liszt to play his own sonata, a work which was quite recent at that time, and of which he was very fond. Without hesitation, he sat down and began playing. As he progressed he came to a very expressive part of the sonata, which he always imbued with extreme pathos, and in which he looked for the especial interest and sympathy of his listeners. Casting a glance at Brahms, he found that the latter was dozing in his chair. Liszt continued playing to the end of the sonata, then rose and left the room. I was in such a position that Brahms was hidden from my view, but I was aware that something unusual had taken place, and I think it was Remenyi who afterward told me what it was. It is very strange that among the various accounts of this Liszt-Brahms first interview--and there are several--there is not one which gives an accurate description of what took place on that occasion; indeed, they are all far out of the way. The events as here related are perfectly clear in my own mind, but not wishing to trust implicitly to my memory alone, I wrote to my friend Klindworth,--the only living witness of the incident except myself, as I suppose,--and requested him to give an account of it as he remembered it. He corroborated my description in every particular, except that he made no specific reference to the drowsiness of Brahms, and except, also, that, according to my recollection, Brahms left Weimar on the afternoon of the day on which the meeting took place; Klindworth writes that it was on the morning of the following day--a discrepancy of very little moment.

Brahms and Remenyi were on a concert tour at the time of which I write, and were dependent on such pianos as they could find in the different towns in which they appeared. This was unfortunate, and sometimes brought them into extreme dilemma. On one occasion the only piano at their disposal was just a half-tone at variance with the violin. There was no pianoforte-tuner at hand, and although the violin might have been adapted to the piano temporarily, Remenyi would have had serious objections to such a proceeding. Brahms therefore adapted himself to the situation, transposed the piano part to the pitch of the violin, and played the whole composition, Beethoven's "Kreutzer Sonata," from memory. Joachim, attracted by this feat, gave Brahms a letter of introduction to Schumann. Shortly after the untoward Weimar incident Brahms paid a visit to Schumann, then living in Dusseldorf. The acquaintanceship resulting therefrom led to the famous article of Schumann ent.i.tled "Neue Bahnen," published shortly afterward (October 23, 1853) in the Leipsic "Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik," which started Brahms on his musical career. It is doubtful if up to that time any article had made such a sensation throughout musical Germany. I remember how utterly the Liszt circle in Weimar were astounded. This letter was at first, doubtless, an obstacle in the way of Brahms, but as it resulted in stirring up great rivalry between two opposing parties it eventually contributed much to his final success.

"LOHENGRIN" FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LEIPSIC

Liszt never questioned Wagner's sincerity. He considered "Lohengrin"

Wagner's greatest work up to the time at which it was composed. It was dedicated to Liszt, and, as Raff told me, the good man could not conceive that Wagner would dedicate anything but his best and greatest to his friend and champion, such was Liszt's faith in the struggling composer whose cause he had made his own.[1]

On the occasion of the first performance of a Wagner opera in any neighboring town, a delegation from Weimar was apt to be on hand for the purpose of making propaganda; and this was the case on Sat.u.r.day, January 7, 1854, when the opera of "Lohengrin" was given in Leipsic for the first time.

We boys were demonstrative claqueurs, and almost always succeeded in making a sensation, especially in a town like Leipsic, where we had acquaintances among the Conservatory students and could get them to help us.

The general public and a large majority of the musicians were not at all favorably disposed toward Wagner's music in those days, and in this connection a remark of Joachim Raff made to me in 1879-80, on the occasion of my second visit to Germany, was significant. Raff had been in earlier years, perhaps, the most ardent of all pioneers in the Wagner cause. A quarter of a century had elapsed since I had seen Raff, and naturally one of my first questions was, "Raff, how is the Wagner cause?" "Oh," said he, "the public have gone 'way over to the other extreme. You know how hard it was to force Wagner upon them twenty-five years ago, and now they go just as much too far the other way and are unreasonable in their excessive homage." "Well," I replied, "I suppose the matter will find its level and be adjusted as time pa.s.ses on."

After the performance of "Lohengrin," which, by the way, was successful, the whole Liszt party, by invitation, went to supper at the house of the concertmeister, Ferdinand David. Quite a number of other guests were present. Among them I remember with pleasure my Boston friends and fellow-townsmen Charles C. Perkins and J. C. D. Parker, who were temporarily located in Leipsic, pursuing their musical studies.

Brahms also was present, and during the evening he played the Andante from his "F Minor Sonata, Op. 5."

IN STUTTGART--HOTEL MARQUAND

NOT long after my visit to Raff in 1879-80 I went on a pleasure trip to Stuttgart, and on account of old a.s.sociations stopped at the Hotel Marquand. One of the objects of my visit was to meet again my old Weimar fellow-pupil Dionys Pruckner, at that time eminent among the staff of pianoforte teachers in the famous Stuttgart Conservatory of Music.

Alighting at the hotel, I was impressed with the marks of consideration shown to me by the hotel porter. He was so very attentive that I was somewhat puzzled. The explanation was apparent the next day when he respectfully inquired if I was the kapellmeister of New York! He had read the name and address on one of my trunks and jumped at conclusions.

I told him that I was not that individual, and explained that in New York no such office existed, although the t.i.tle might be with propriety applied to the conductor of the Philharmonic Society. However, the idea found a lodgment in his head, quite to my advantage, as evidenced by the many attentions he paid to me throughout my stay.

THE SCHUMANN "FEIER" IN BONN, 1880

Over a quarter of a century elapsed after my first meeting with Brahms before I saw him again, and then the meeting occurred at Bonn on the Rhine, on May 3, 1880. He was there, in company with Joachim and other artists, to take part in the ceremonies attendant on the unveiling of the Schumann _Denkmal_.

There were also musical performances, and at a morning recital of chamber-music the program consisted solely of Schumann's works, vocal and instrumental, with the addition of the Brahms "Violin Concerto,"

played by Joachim. The concluding number was Schumann's "Piano Quartet in E Flat Major, Op. 47," Brahms playing the piano part, and Joachim, Heckmann, and Bellman playing respectively violin, viola, and violoncello.

BRAHMS'S PIANOFORTE-PLAYING

The pianoforte-playing of Brahms was far from being finished or even musical. His tone was dry and devoid of sentiment, his interpretation inadequate, lacking style and contour. It was the playing of a composer, and not that of a virtuoso. He paid little if any attention to the marks of expression as indicated by Schumann in the copy. This was especially and painfully apparent in the opening measures of the first movement.

This introductory pa.s.sage is marked, "Sostenuto a.s.sai," followed by the main movement marked, "Allegro ma non troppo." Instead of accommodating himself to the quiet and subdued nature of the introduction, the pianist quite ignored Schumann's esthetic directions, and began with a vigorous attack, which was sustained throughout the movement. The continued force and harshness of his tone quite overpowered the stringed instruments. As an ensemble the performance was not a success.

On going home to dinner, and learning that Brahms was stopping at the hotel, I gave my card to the porter, with instructions to deliver it to Brahms as soon as he came in. When about half-way through the table d'hote the porter entered and said that Brahms was in the outer hall, waiting to see me. He was very cordial. At the moment I had quite forgotten that I had met him at David's house in Leipsic, so I said: "The last time I met you was in Weimar on that very hot day in June, 1853; do you remember it?"

"Very well indeed, and I am glad to see you again. Just now my time is very much engaged, but we are going up the river on a picnic this afternoon--Joachim and others; will you come along? We are going to a summer restaurant on the Rhine, where they have excellent beer, and it will be _ganz gemutlich_."

I regretted extremely that I had to forego the pleasure of this excursion, and fully realized the opportunity I was losing; but my party--there were four of us, my wife and I and two children--had previously arranged our plans, and in order to make connections we were obliged to go on to Cologne that day.

Here was a companion-piece to the disappointment occasioned by my having to forego the pleasure and profit of a foot-tramp through the Tyrol with Richard Wagner, as already related in these "Memories." But so the Fates ordained.

Partly on account of the untoward Weimar incident, and partly for the sake of his own individuality, I took a peculiar interest in Brahms. His work is wonderfully condensed, his constructive power masterly. By his scholarly development of themes through augmentation, diminution, inversion, imitation, and other devices, he seems to be introducing new thematic material, while the fact is, as will be seen on close investigation, that he is presenting the original theme in varied form and shape, and gradually unfolding and expanding its possibilities to the uttermost. In other words, his treatment is exhaustive and complete.

In his later piano compositions this is readily apparent, and as these pieces are short, and at the same time complete in form, they furnish excellent opportunities to the student for a.n.a.lytical studies. In all that relates to the intellectual faculty Brahms is indisputably a master. I find this to be the consensus of opinion among intelligent musicians. But there are differences of opinion as regards his emotional susceptibilities, and it is just this fact that prevents many from fully accepting him. The emotional and intellectual should be in equipoise in order to attain the highest results, but in the music of Brahms the latter seems to predominate. In sympathetic and affectionate treatment, so far as relates to his piano composition, he does not compare with Chopin.

A HISTORICAL ERROR CORRECTED

I have read in a recent number of a musical magazine the following sentence: "We have seen with what ardor the first compositions of this serious young man [Brahms] were greeted by Schumann and Liszt."

I have already mentioned the fact that all of the published accounts of the first meeting of Liszt and Brahms were far from accurate, and in fact convey an impression directly opposite to the truth; and the foregoing statement, according to my belief, is just as far from being in accordance with the facts. I am quite sure that Liszt was not enthusiastic about Brahms at the time of the first interview in Weimar heretofore described, and the letter received from my friend Karl Klindworth, in Berlin, sustains me in this belief. Liszt was of too kindly a disposition to treasure up animosity against Brahms on account of the mishap on that occasion; but the fact that Brahms was put forward by the anti-Wagnerites as their champion may possibly have influenced him somewhat. A coolness also sprang up between Joachim and Liszt, although during my stay in Weimar the violinist had been welcomed so frequently at the Altenburg. During the entire career of Brahms he and Joachim were close friends.

MORE ABOUT LISZT'S WONDERFUL SIGHT-READING

Liszt's playing of the Brahms scherzo was a remarkable feat, but he was constantly doing almost incredible things in the way of reading at sight. Another instance of his skill in this direction occurs to me and is well worthy of mention.

Raff had composed a sonata for violin and pianoforte in which there were ever-varying changes in measure and rhythm; measures of 7/8, 7/4, 5/4, alternated with common and triple time, and seemed to mix together promiscuously and without regard to order. Notwithstanding this apparent disorder, there was an undercurrent, so to speak, of the ordinary 3/4 or 4/4 time, and to the player who could penetrate the rhythmic mask the difficulty of performance quickly vanished. Raff had arranged with Laub and Pruckner that they should practise the sonata together, and then, on a favorable occasion, play it in Liszt's presence. So on one of the musical mornings at the Altenburg these gentlemen began to play the sonata. Pruckner, of sensitive and nervous organization, found the changes of measure too confusing, especially when played before company, and broke down at the first page. Another and yet a third attempt was made, but with the like result. Liszt, whose interest was aroused, exclaimed: "I wonder if I can play that!" Then, taking his place at the instrument, he played it through at sight in rapid tempo and without the slightest hesitation. He had intuitively divined the regularity of movement which lay beneath the surface.