THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 23755, 10 December 1940, Page 9

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

Musii gnus lone to the universe; wings to the mind; (light to tho imagination; a charm to sadness; gaicl.y and life to everything,—Plate. Last week I cited a description of Clara Schumann and her pinnisin, from the pen of Elisabeth, Queen of Rumania, alias “ Carmen Sylvn.” If newspaper competition, as we now know it, had existed in Carmen Sylva's day, she might have brought off one of the biggest “scoops” in journalistic annals by publishing her exclusive interview with Robert Schumann's widow. The life story of Clara Schumann, as told personally to the former Rumanian Queen, poignant reading. I give it here in the great pianist's own words.” “ My troubles began early in life, for my parents [tho WiecksJ were separated, and L never knew a really happy homo. My father insisted in having me trained as a musician, and forced me into public performances while I was yet a child. It was a hard life, made harder when my father married again and. I found a stepmother unkindly disposed towards me.” * * ♦ * 11 1 was only II when Robert Schumann first became known to me. He was then a youth of 18, and very soon we two young people had fallen mutually in love, and were oven secretly engaged. The secrecy was necessary for fear of my father, who often said he had his plans fixed for my future. But, of course, we had to tell him some time, and then the fat was in the fire, as you may suppose. He raged and swore that we should never marry, and gradually the struggle grew to open warfare, so to speak. Eventually the law had to intervene. My father took us to court in order to assert his authority, but Robert proved himself to be of full age and perfectly well able to maintain a wife, so the case went against my father, who loaded ns with insults as a consequence. The judge’s decision was entirely in our favour, and we were legally permitted to become man and wife. My father’s anger knew no bounds. Shouting that lie never would sanction my marriage to a beggarly composer, ho practically turned me out of his house, refusing even to let me collect my few possessions. My stepmother went so far as to tear from my finger a little ring T wore that .had been my own mother’s, which was now given to my stepsister. Thus. was. I cast out of my parents’ dwelling, and from the moment the door closed behind me I never again saw my father, nor ever heard a word from him.”' * * * * “It was as if I were actually dead to him henceforth. But I did not grieve or repine. By my husband’s side X wandered out, happy, really happy, fertile first time in my life, in tho proud consciousness of our reciprocal love and trust. “The ensuing 10 years stand out in my memory as an epoch of perfect bliss, a decade of such joy as is rarely given to mortals to know on this earth. Quickly I realised that my husband was one of tjie greatest geniuses of music tho world has yet produced. I lived for him alone, entirely absorbed in him and. his wonderful music. J watched every change in his countenance, studied his every mood, and. in fact, so completely identified invsolf with him that when his brain began to give way, mine, too, was on the verge of being affected. The trouble came on gradually, so gradually that I failed to grasp its terrible Robert’s mind was slowly fading; his fits of melancholy grew more frequent and of longer duration, as though a baleful shadow had fallen across his soul. One night he wakened me suddenly, begging me to get up and remain not a moment more in the room. Astonished and alarmed, but accustomed allways to obey his least wish, I complied with this strange request. Next day. with tears in his eyes, he told me that it was for my bodily safety he had been afraid.” * * • * “ A state of mind was threatening in which he knew he would not bo responsible for his actions, hence his anxiety on my account. Amid these mental aberrations some strangely wonderful musical fantasies were mixed, many of which he was able later to put down on paper and are now part of his imperishable legacy to music. But the tragic culmination loomed ever nearer, and there came a terrible day that shattered all my earthly happiness for ever. My darling (Robert managed to steal out of the house unperceived, and tried to drown himself in the Rhine. He was saved from this watery grave, but from then until the end I was not allowed to see him again. They said it would be dangerous for him—perhaps for me also. Robert recovered temporarily, enough to send me a pathetic message, begging for my forgiveness and explaining that it had been his idea of ridding me of constant worry and sorrow. “ At first I could do nothing but sit and weep for the immensity of the misfortune that had befallen me and my young family. But then came realisation of the urgent necessity to work for the support of the children and myself. From my father came no sign of sympathy, though other friends rallied to my assistance and organised concerts at which I played throughout the country.” * ' * * * “ In this way things continued for some three years. I travelled extensively;, giving recitals all over Europe, principally of my husband’s compositions, while he, all unknowing, lay desperately ill at Bonn. Then, one day, just as I was about to step on to the platform for a recital in London, 1 received a message saying that my husband was dying, and I must hurry home if I wished to see him again alive. Imagine my feelings! The concert had to go on; the audience was waiting, and for financial reasons I could not break faith with them. I walked on the stage like one in a dream. I have absolutely no recollection of the performance, but was told afterwards that I never played better. While the audience was still applauding I had left the hall and was on my journey back to Bonn, my mind in a whirl and the train seeming to spin round and round as it rushed along. And so at last I met my darling husband once more. It was a terrible shock to find him changed almost out of all recognition. Only his eyes, those dear, loving eyes, seemed still the same, and as they fixed themselves upon me I had the sweet sorrow of realising that in those final moments he knew me again.” « * * • “Ah, rnv own loved one!” ho exclaimed, and stretched out his arms to me in loving supplication. He was frightfully weak, having lately refused all food, 'under the delusion that ho was being deliberately poisoned. His glance never left me, and in the midst of my gaol I felt a spang of console,-