Musical Myths and Facts Volume I Part 9

[21] 'Die Mythologie des Nordens, von K. F. Wiborg; aus dem Danischen von A. v. Etzel. Berlin, 1847.' P. 147.

[22] 'Volkslieder des Serben, ubersetzt von Talvj. Leipzig, 1853.' Vol.

II., P. 380.

[23] 'Travels in South-Eastern Asia, by Howard Malcolm. Boston, 1839.'

Vol. I., P. 205.

[24] 'First Footsteps in East Africa, 1856, by Captain Burton, London.'

P. 142.

[25] 'An Account of the Natives of the Tonga Islands, by Mariner and Martin. London, 1818.' Vol. II., P. 131.

[26] 'Icelandic Legends, collected by Jon Arnason; translated by Powell and Magnusson. London, 1866.' P. 631.

[27] 'Stimmen des Russischen Volks, von P. von Gotze. Stuttgart, 1828.'

P. 58.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE STUDIES OF OUR GREAT COMPOSERS.

An inquiry into the gradual cultivation of the genius of our great musical composers is as instructive as it is interesting to the lover of music. Before attempting this inquiry, it is advisable to ascertain exactly what is meant by the designation "our great composers."

To compose music does not only imply to invent musical ideas, but also to employ ideas which are already invented in such a way as to exhibit them in a new light. Certain modulations, pa.s.sages, and rhythmical combinations occurring in our musical compositions may be regarded as common property; but how surprisingly original and fresh do they often appear to us through the new way in which they are employed by composers in connection with other ideas! Now, a composer who has the power to construct very beautiful works of art in a certain form, by inventing ideas and by showing in a new light ideas not invented by him, deserves to be regarded as a great composer.

However, in order to trace the gradual progress of his genius, it is not sufficient to examine his studies, or, so to say, to watch him in his workshop; we must commence our inquiry further back, and observe him first as a promising child.

Unfortunately, of the early initiatory lessons of our great composers but little is generally ascertainable. Celebrated musicians have more important occupation than to explain their earliest instructions; or they have to a great extent forgotten how they learnt in childhood the rudiments of their art. Still the initiatory lessons are especially noteworthy, since the foundation exercises an almost ineffaceable influence upon the subsequent direction of the musical student.

The talent for music in children is not always so easily discovered as might be supposed. Idleness, not unusual in fast-growing children, or indifference caused by injudicious training, may be mistaken for want of talent. There are records extant of distinguished musicians who in early childhood evinced neither talent nor fondness for music. Others, who, showing no inclination to learn the musical instrument on which they received instruction, have unexpectedly exhibited much talent and industry in practising on another kind of instrument of their own choice. Most of our distinguished musicians have manifested from early childhood a preference for a particular instrument which they perseveringly cultivated, and on which they afterwards excelled.

Parents are apt to see talent in their children where it does not exist, or, at least, not in the supposed degree. Some even find unmistakable evidence of musical talent in the shape of the head of their offspring.

A peculiar formation of the skull, especially about the temples, is certainly observable in many clever musicians, and may be recognized in the few portraits which are known to be faithful likenesses of great composers. It would be interesting to know whether the infantine musical prodigies, of which there have been so many during the present century, generally possessed this phrenological indication. Be this as it may, they have become great composers in only exceptional instances. Indeed, early musical prodigies have but seldom achieved in after-life so much as was expected from them. There are, however, exceptions; for instance, Mozart. Dr. Crotch in his infancy displayed abilities as extraordinary as Mozart's. At the age of three years and a half he could play some harmonized tunes on the pianoforte, and when he was five years old he performed in public on the organ at a benefit concert in London. He afterwards achieved comparatively but little, and did not realise the expectations which as a child he had excited.

There are instances on record of musicians who in their early childhood were forced against their inclination to practise a.s.siduously, and who must have been tortured by the incessant care for their progress bestowed on them by their parents. They became brilliant players, making music like a well-constructed machine. Our great composers have generally had a happier childhood. They were, in most instances, children whose physical development was especially attended to; who were permitted to ramble about in fields and forests, and by outdoor amus.e.m.e.nts and bodily exercises to lay the foundation for a healthy life. This, perhaps, sufficiently explains why not all of them have displayed a precocity of talent in early childhood. Indeed, their full development has been in many instances but slow, and several of them did not produce their best works until they had attained an age exceeding that generally allotted to musicians. Gluck composed his 'Iphigenia in Tauris' at the age of sixty-five; Haydn composed the 'Creation' in his sixty-ninth year, and the 'Seasons' in his seventy-second year. Handel was fifty-six years old when he wrote the 'Messiah,' and sixty-one when he wrote 'Judas Maccabaeus.'

Some of our most gifted musicians have required much longer time than others for cultivating their talent, because they had not in childhood the same advantage of guidance which others had, and were consequently compelled to find out for themselves the best method of cultivation.

Perhaps there now walks behind a plough a Handel, who has not shown that he is a man of genius because circ.u.mstances prevented his knowing and cultivating his powers. Happy is the artist who, in his childhood, was led by a judicious guide in the way which saves much time, trouble, and disappointment! Mozart had such a guide in his father; also Mendelssohn.

Weber deserves, perhaps, all the greater praise from the fact of his father having been an impediment rather than a help to him.

A systematic education in childhood presents the greatest advantage; this is too self-evident to require further comment. It may also be taken for granted that the moral and mental education of the young composer is not less important than are his musical studies. Nay, his moral training is even of higher importance, since one _may_ be a good musician, but _must_ be a good man. Moreover, he is sure to become a better musician if he possesses an acute discernment of right and wrong, with love for the former and dislike to the latter.

As regards his mental education, it is more important for him to know _how_ to think than _what_ to think. A clear discernment is preferable to much information; at any rate, it is better to know but little and to understand that little clearly, than to know a great deal confusedly.

There can be no doubt that a cla.s.sical education is of great advantage to the musician, not only on account of the refining influence which a familiarity with cla.s.sical literature exercises upon the artistic mind, but also on account of the languages. An acquaintance with two or three modern languages is almost indispensable to the composer. Latin poetry occurs not unfrequently in Church music; and several old treatises on music have been written in Latin, and are therefore not accessible to musicians unacquainted with this language. It does not, of course, follow that to be a great composer one must know Latin; however, many musicians have thought it advisable in their later years to study this language, when they had not the opportunity of studying it in their youth.

Talented young musicians sometimes appear rather deficient in their mental cultivation. The enthusiasm with which they pursue their musical studies is apt to cause them to neglect other studies. But there is no real deficiency of intellectual gifts; on the contrary, they have generally a great versatility of talent. This often becomes apparent in their later years. Several eminent musicians have evinced much talent for painting. The humorous, witty, and clever remarks of some of our great composers are notorious.

Without having thoroughly mastered the technicalities of the art, it is impossible to achieve anything of artistic value. An a.s.siduous and persevering cultivation of the talent is as necessary as the talent itself. It has generally cost a musical composer long and continued labour to produce a valuable work of art. He attained his aim by knowing what was requisite for its achievement, and by labouring perseveringly to attain it.

As has been already intimated, it is of great importance for the progress of the future composer that his initiatory lessons should be correct, so that there is nothing learnt which afterwards requires to be unlearnt. A bad touch on the pianoforte, or a wrong method of bowing in playing the violin, is scarcely ever entirely remedied in later years.

Example is better than precept. A teacher who, by playing to his pupil, can show him how a pa.s.sage ought to be executed, may save him much time and trouble. Our celebrated singers have generally learnt the most easily the best they are able to accomplish by having been sung to.

However, music may be learnt by different methods, and each method may have something to recommend it. The teacher must study the pupil to find out what is the best for him.

Our great composers had generally instruction in singing very early.

Indeed, a composer who has not cultivated his voice in childhood is not likely to write vocal music so effectively as would be the case if he had accustomed himself to sing his melodies while inventing them. Even the melodious phrases in his instrumental compositions are likely to be more impressive if he has been a singer from early age.

Furthermore, the young student has to learn to play in a high degree of perfection at least one musical instrument. The pianoforte is--in our time, perhaps--the best suited for his purpose, on account of the harmony and of the arrangement of orchestral works executable on the instrument. Most of our great composers were pianists, harpsichord players, or organists. There are, it is true, exceptions. Gluck's instrument was the violoncello; Spohr's, the violin. But even composers who are not pianists, generally, while composing for the orchestra, make use of the pianoforte.

The best musical performer is he who can play the most simple melody with the greatest expression; and the second best is he who can play the most difficult pa.s.sages with the greatest correctness. Some pianists of astonishing manual dexterity are unable to play a simple tune with proper expression; others cannot execute well a technically easy sonata by Mozart, because they have not learnt--or, perhaps, have forgotten--the pure expression required for such unaffected music. The execution of many modern pianists is best suited for the performance of their own compositions.

If the young musician is bent upon becoming a distinguished _virtuoso_, it may easily be disadvantageous to him as a composer, not only on account of the time he will require for practising his fingers, but also because his fingers are apt to induce him to compose for them instead of for the heart. A great composer generally plays one instrument masterly; and he has, probably, found it expedient to learn another instrument or two besides that which he has princ.i.p.ally cultivated. If, in addition to the pianoforte, he can play the viola or violoncello in a quartet, or Bach's pedal-fugues on the organ, he possesses the means of familiarising himself more thoroughly with many of our cla.s.sical compositions than he could possibly do by merely hearing or reading them; and the familiarity thus acquired is beneficial to him. Moreover, some practical experience with wind-instruments is useful to the composer of orchestral works. Our great masters knew this, and acted upon it.

The exercise of the fingers takes up time, but not necessarily much. One hour of practice with great attention is better than three hours of careless practice. The former has not only the advantage that it advances the student more rapidly, but also that it leaves him the time required for other studies, reading, and recreation. Several of our great composers could be named who, notwithstanding their diligent studies from their youth, always found plenty of time for bodily exercise, and for amus.e.m.e.nts conducive to the preservation of health and energy--such as pedestrian tours, riding, fencing, swimming, dancing, etc.

The young musician has soon to commence the study of the theory of music, especially if he exhibits decided talent for composing. He must learn to write with facility any musical composition strictly according to the rules which have been laid down by our theorists as they found them observed in the works of the great masters. When he has acquired the skill to write correctly and fluently in the different forms of composition, it will be early enough for him to disregard the rules occasionally where he thinks it advisable for his purpose. Perhaps he may establish a new one. By far the greater number of our rules of composition are not dictated by any physical law traceable in acoustics, but only by human taste, which is continually undergoing modifications in the course of time. Thus, most of our great composers have caused some alterations in our theory of music. It is not only possible, but probable, that in a hundred years' time we shall have admirable musical compositions very different in form and construction from our present ones.

Several of our great composers in their youth excelled in extemporising.

They were fond of it, and spent many an hour in pouring forth on their favourite instrument their momentary inspirations and fanciful conceptions. Extempore fantasias are sometimes so original and effective that it is a pity they cannot be preserved by being committed to notation at the moment of their creation. However, charming as such spontaneous effusions may be on account of their freshness, they do not possess the artistic value of an elaborately constructed and carefully finished work. At any rate, our great composers have in their youth derived greater benefit from carefully working out in notation a theme according to a certain form of composition, than from indulging in extempore fantasias. These have, however, often helped them in creating beautiful ideas for their works.

It may easily be understood that a retentive memory is of great value to the musician, be he composer or merely performer. Talented young musicians not unfrequently possess an astounding memory. Sonatas, symphonies, and even fugues, which they practise, they can soon play by heart. As they advance in years the power of memory generally becomes somewhat weaker. Blind musicians appear to preserve it undiminished for a longer period than others. The blind flutist Dulon knew 120 flute concertos by heart, which he had numbered, and any one of which he could play instantly on its number being mentioned to him. True, there is musically little gained by burdening the memory with compositions which chiefly consist of compilations of pa.s.sages calculated to display the dexterity and skill of the performer. The works which the musician ought to be able to recall to his memory are the cla.s.sical works, such as Gluck's 'Iphigenia in Tauris,' Mozart's 'Don Giovanni,' Beethoven's Symphonies, Handel's 'Messiah,' Bach's 'Pa.s.sion according to St.

Matthew.' There are not a few among our great composers who studied the master-works of their predecessors so effectually that they knew by heart a considerable number of them from beginning to end, with the instrumentation of every bar.

As regards the different forms of composition, that of the sonata is the most important; for, if the composer is able to express his ideas with facility in this form, he possesses the key to all the other forms--except some of the older ones, as that of the fugue. Certain theorists recommend the student of composition to select a sonata by Mozart, or some other master, in which the established form is strictly adhered to, and to write a precisely similar sonata by imitating the model bar for bar, using the same time, tempo, modulations, changes in loudness, and so on--only subst.i.tuting other notes. No doubt he may thus manufacture a sonata which is correct in form, whatever it may be in spirit. Our great composers did not arise from students trained to make music as the shoemaker makes shoes.

The form of the fugue has already become antiquated, and that of the sonata is more and more neglected by our present composers, and apparently will likewise become antiquated in the course of time. But until we have beautiful examples of some new form, it is not probable that those forms which have been gradually brought to a high degree of perfection will be entirely dispensed with, whatever modern composers may produce exhibiting an indifference to the rules observed by their predecessors.

Our great composers were particularly careful in the choice of the theme. This is only what might be expected. An orator who discourses on an uninteresting subject will not easily command the attention of his hearers. Still, if he is gifted with extraordinary powers of eloquence, he may discourse on almost any subject interestingly. Thus also in music. Beethoven and other great composers have occasionally chosen a theme which becomes significant only from its original and spirited treatment.

The artistic charm of a well-constructed composition consists in the development of the theme, so that it is exhibited in a variety of beautiful aspects--appearing, though always the same, yet always new.

The skill of thus treating the theme, our great composers, by constant study and practice, have cultivated to an admirable degree of perfection. They were fully aware that it is as indispensable to the composer as is the power of creating an interesting musical idea.

However, the development of the theme may be carried too far. It appears pedantic when it is contrived more with regard to the form than to the spirit of the music; and it disturbs the unity of the composition when the theme is so much changed as to appear an entirely new idea.

Schubert, in his pianoforte sonatas, has not unfrequently altered the theme so much that its second exposition does not bear the required resemblance with its first; it becomes another theme, which is not wanted. For the clever development of a theme Schubert did not possess sufficient practical experience acquired by systematic study. Had he possessed a full command over the rules of the art--and especially, had he written less hastily--he might, with his wonderful gifts, have been as great a composer as Beethoven.

A few examples from Beethoven's book of sketches may find a place here, since they throw some light upon his studies. The alterations which he marked with "_meilleur_" are generally decided improvements upon the first notation of the idea to which they refer. This is, for instance, strikingly apparent in his sketches of his famous song 'Adelaide,' the beginning of which, noted down at first thus:--

[Music]

he afterwards altered into:--

[Music]

The following sketches from Beethoven's pocket-book refer to his Quartet in C[#] minor, Op. 131, with which they must be compared to render the several attempts at improvement more clearly intelligible:--