TALKS ON MUSIC.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XIV, 6 October 1900, Page 624

TALKS ON MUSIC.

By

W. H. WEBBE.

(Specially Reported for the “Graphic.”) The following is the conclusion of the lecture delivered by Mr \V. H. Webbe at the School of Music, Grafton Road, on Thursday. 13th September, and the first part of the lecture delivered the following week about Some Great Composers of Pianoforte Music and Their Works. BEETHOVEN. Ludwig van Beethoven, born at Bonn. 1770. died at Vienna, 1827. Beethoven, like Haydn, was of humble origin. His father was a singer in the service of the Elector of Cologne. There was a large family, and Ludwig, who was the eldest son. had to help with the work towards maintaining them. His firttt music lessons were received from his father, who soon became aware of his son's wonderful talent, and kept his boy hard at work. Poor little Beethoven had a very hard life; he knew little of

the pleasures and sports that most children of to-day enjoy.

He first of all learnt to play the violin, and when quite a child was a clever extemporiser on that instrument. When eleven years old he devoted his studies to the piano and organ. When about 13 years of age he was appointed to the conductorship of the Elector’s band, also to act as deputy organist in the Electoral chapel at Bonn. At fourteen years of age he received an appointment as deputy organist with a salary of £ 15, and it was from this date that he commenced to publish his compositions. At 17 he went to Vienna on a Visit, where he was introduced to Mozart, who requested Beethoven to play before him. Mozart, presuming the piece he played had been practised for the occasion, gave him but faint praise. Young Beethoven was so upset by this that he begged for Mozart to give him a theme on which to improvise. His improvisation was so fine that Mozart was much astonished, and prophesied great things for the future of Beethoven.

Beethoven's mother dying, necessitated his return to Bonn to look after the family’s interests. Unfortunately the father neglected his duties, and young Beethoven had to take up his work. About this time Beethoven was favoured with the friendship of Count Waldstein, who gave him substantial help and encouragement. This Count’s name has been immortalises by Beethoven dedicating to him tne magnificent sonata so well known as the Waldstein Sonata. When 22 years of age he was sent to Vienna, and studied counterpoint with Haydn, of whom I have just spoken. Haydn gave comparatively little attention to Beethoven, and when the master went to England in 1794 he transferred the pupil to Albrechtberger. one of the then, famous teachers of counterpoint.

Beethoven was an early riser, and was very simple in his habits. In manner he was somewhat blunt, and his behaviour was often considered rude in consequence. He disliked shams, and had contempt for charlatans, and liars he never forgave. Beethoven was a man of the people by birth and education, yet he was often the guest and friend of several of the nobility of Vienna. It was there that Beethoven was assisted and encouraged by several of his rich patrons, whose generosity released him from the terrible poverty which had weighed upon him so heavily from his boyhood. Beethoven, was very absentminded. as the following anecdote will show; —

“Concentration of attention to the study in hand is above all things else, a necessity for him who would produce valuable results. The ability to withdraw the mind from other affairs and to focus one's attention on the subject in hand is most valuable to a composer. Not, however, that we

would commend that degree of abstraction from evert-day affairs that was ‘ Beethoven's habit when in the midst of a bit of congenial mental work.

In the history of absent-minded and forgetful men (that remains to be written) Beethoven must certainly have a prominent place.

A friend once presented Beethoven with a noble steed, and he did what you or I would do under the circumstances^—took a ride around

After riding it a few times, he proceeded to forget its very existence, and made his journeys on foot or in coach. But he had a servant who was not so neglectful of his opportunity. This man took the horse under his care and used it as his own, after finding that Beethoven no longer enquired for it. He put it up at a stable, and carefully paid the bills, lest his master should be reminded of its existence. Then, to reimburse himself for his trouble and expense, he frequently hired the horse out as he had opportunity and pocketed the proceeds. Like men of great genius, Beethoven had his idiosyncrasies. He was impetuous. careless, and of a rugged nature. He was wrapped up in his work and paid little attention to external matters, and cared little for the opinion of others. The following is taken from Gates’ "Anecdotes of Great Musicians”: As his deafness increased he became more peculiar and less observant of the rights of others. He could hardly hear his piano, and yet would thump and bang it in vain attempts. As he composed he would pace his room, shouting out his melodies in an unmusical voice. Then, to cap the climax, he would dash a pitcher of water over his hands to cool his feverish pulse. The results were that the landlord would complain of damaged ceiling and flooded rooms, and the other tenants would declare that they would not stay in the house with such a noisy fellow. So off he would go to some other place, and would frequently be paying rent for several places at once.

Then, tired of moving about, he would undertake to keep up his own establishment, or would take possession of apartments in the home of some patron that he had perhaps deserted in a moment of anger. One of his admirers kept certain rooms always ready, saying to his servants, "Let them be ready. Beethoven is sure to come back again.” and after some more experiences with inexorable landladies, back he would come without notice or warning. Had it been a man of lesser genius, these whims and eccentricities would have been given no quarter. But the peculiarities of genius are

forgiven. Poor Beethoven, when only 28 years of age, experienced symptoms of a terrible misfortune—deafness—which is believed to have been the result of fever. In spite of this awful calamity, Beethoven wrote to a friend, “I still as far as possible defy my fate, though there must be moments when I shall be the most miserable of God’s creatures. Not unhappy, no, that I never could endure. I will grapple with fate, and it shall never drag me down.”

Beethoven’s courage remained to the last, and in spite of his deafness some of his grandest works were composed, but it is sad to think he could not hear a single note of some of his magnificent compositions. He was a great lover of nature, and delighted in the woods and fields. He would often, after a hard day’s work when in the country, rush about, humming and shouting and beating time, throwing his hands about in such a way that people often thought him mad.

Beethoven was anything but a handsome man, but all those that came in contact with him were impressed by his strength of purpose. His hands were very ugly, his fingers short and stumpy, and it is a wonder how he played so well. As he advanced in years he became very negligent in his dress.

He was a Catholic, but very broadminded; in fact, so much so that some writers have hinted that Beethoven was sceptical. Beethoven caught cold from a chill when returning to Vienna from his brother's house in the country in December. 1829. He sickened, and lingered on until the following March, when he died during a terrible thunder and rain storm. His funeral was attended by a great concourse, among whpm were many musicians of note. His compositions are amongst the finest ever written for the piano; his thirty-three sonatas alone being a monument that will ever last to his memory. In addition to the sonatas he wrote nearly 250 variations and over 50 smaller pieces. His symphonies. overtures, concertos and other works I do not refer to, as we have only at present to do with great composers and their piano works. ■ Speaking of the characteristics of Beethoven’s music, it is universally acknowledged by musicians that in the detailed developments of figures in themes, this great master has never been excelled. In his creative powers he certainly attained to a degree of refinement, and as Dr. Riemann puts it, "The full comprehension of which is only to-day dawning upon the world at large.” At times we find in Beethoven’s music the most tender and pathetic expressions, and in others the full outpourings of a mighty passion. SCHUBERT. Franz Schubert was born near Vienna in 1797, and died there in 1828. He was the son of a village schoolmaster, and assisted his father for some time in the school. The Schuberts were a musical family, and young Schubert, who showed early signs of great talent, while quite a child joined his father and two elder brothers in string quartets. Franz was a very precocious child, and in a very short time such was his rapid advancement in his studies that his teachers soon found his intuitive perception had anticipated their instructions. Schubert was an awkwardlooking boy, and wore spectacles, and for some time his school companions treated him rather disdainfully, but this was not for long, for his exquisite singing and his fine violin playing soon caused him to be treated with admiration.

When he was 17 years of age, and was unable to sing, he went home again and taught in the school, but this occupation did not suit his temperament. It was during this period that some of his best songs were written, including the "Erl King.” He was a very rapid composer, and ideas seemed to fly from his brain so fast that he could not get them down on paper quick enough. It often happened with Schubert that he would compose some music in the morning, and have it performed in the evening. Like many other great composers, Schubert did not find his works famous during his lifetime; it remained for posterity to do justice to the merits of his charming compositions.

After leaving the school he was engaged by Count Esterhazy as teacher to his family. He was not with the count very long, but long enough to fall in love with the daughter, who, it is said, did not reciprocate his affections; but it appears that Schubert preserved a life-long attachment to this lady. After leaving Vienna, Schubert lived for some time with a poet—Mayrhofer

—who wrote words for many of his songs. It is related that Mayrhofer and Schubert would sit at opposite ends of the table and the poet would write words and throw them over to the musician, who would then at once compose musie to the same. In September, 1828, he was taken very ill. and one day in November, it is said, while eating his dinner, he suddenly exclaimed that the food tasted as if it was poisoned. It appears he was then attacked with typhoid fever, and a week later he unfortunately died at the early age of 31. Schubert at one time was so poor that he sold the manuscript of his songs for lOd each, and so little was he known for a long period that he saw very few of his compositions in print.

He was almost without friends when he died, and in great poverty, and yet a short time before his death, with only strength enough to keep himself in a sitting position, he composed merry little pieces to bring him enough to procure food. Not only his end, but his life was a pathetic one. Schubert had a very modest disposition, and as a characteristic of his modesty we find in an account of his first meeting with Beethoven, as recorded by Grove in his Dictionary of Music:—

“Beethoven was at home, and we know the somewhat overwhelming courtesy with which he welcomed a stranger. Schubert was bashful and retiring, and when the great man handed him pencil and paper provided for the replies of visitors, Schubert could not collect himself sufficiently to tvrite a word. Then Schubert produced some variations which he had enthusiastically dedicated to Beethoven, and this added to Beethoven’s good humour. The master opened them and looked through them, and

seeing something which startled him naturally pointed it out. At this behubert's last remnant of self-control deserted him and ue rushed from the room. When he got out into the street he was out of the magic of Beethoven’s personality, his presence of mind returned, and ail that he might have said flashed upon him, but it was too late.”

A large number of Schubert's compositions are now, fortunately for us, obtainable. Schubert’s compositions are not only full of the most beautiful melodies, but abound in most striking harmonies. It was Sehubert who first understood and developed the song form, and has been called the real creator of the modern Lied. His songs are among the most beautiful ever written, and it is a great pity that they are not heard more in the colonial drawing-room and on the concert platform. His sonatas rank amongst the best, particularly the one in A minor op. 42. and the one in B flat. As a fitting conclusion to what I have said about Schubert, I will read a quotation from Fillmore, the historian: —

“Such is the brief record of the life of a composer who, if he lacked some of the elements of greatness which go t.:> make up a genius of the first rank, was nevertheless one of the. most spontaneously creative minds known in human history. His imagination produced music as a tropical forest produces vegetation—it was a soil of boundless fertility, crowded with germs which constantly sprang into marvellously luxuriant growth under the influence of tropical heat and moisture. The list of his works Is something enormous, and includes not only songs and short pieces, but masses and operas, nine symphonies, the last of which is one of the longest ever written.” The illustrations of the above composer’s works were, Beethoven, “Sonata in ]•’ minor”; Sehubert, “Andante” from “Symphony in E. Flat.” (To be continued.) The Englishman who a short time since issued the challenge to anybody and everybody to cite an instance of a violin having brought £lOOO at an auction sale, seems to be holding his own still. At a sale of old violins at Clifton, England, a few days ago the gem of the collection, a J. B. Guadagnini, together with a silver-mounted bow, brought only £l6O. A Nicholas Lupot. dated 1796, went for £6O. and a Carlo Tononi realised but £67. A viola by Viullaume, which won the prize at the Paris Exposition of 1867, brought only £27. Another instrument. a Peter Guarnerius, while thoroughly genuine, was not in perfect condition, the belly and head having met with an accident some years ago. This violin was sold for £2B. A singular sort of a musical contest- is being held at Vienna this month. Rubinstein, the great pianist and composer, left, among other legacies. a fund of £2OOO, the income from which is to be distributed once every five years (when it amounts to about £400) between the composer and the pianist, who shall prove successful in the competitions outlined by the donor. Rubinstein's stipulations were that the composer shall submit a pianoforte concerto and a piece of chamber music, which the pianist is required to play at a recital, the programme of which must include a Rubinstein concerto, a Bach prelude and fugue, a scherzo, a mazourka, and a nocturne by Chopin: two Schumann numbers, from the “Kreisleviana,” or the Faschings-schwank; and a Liszt concert etude. The candidates for the prizes report at St. Petersburg, and the contests are held in various cities, Vienna being the field of competition for this year.

' The following amusing anecdote is told of the distinguished French musician. Camille Saint-Saens, as an illustration of his extreme near-sight-edness: “Being asked to play something at a party in Paris, he extemporised for an hour in the most brilliant fashion. Then some of the guests began to leave, and after two hours the rest took their departure. The hostess retired to bed, and the master of the house alone remained in the room, but still Saint-Saens, lost in the musical reverie, and not perceiving that the guests had departed, played on. At last, about 2 a.m., seeing Saint-Saens playing with more

ardour than ever, the host, completely overcome with fatigue, became desperate, and said: T beg pardon, my dear sir, but, pray, are you not h little fatigued?' Saint-Saens replied, without leaving the piano. ‘Not in the least.’ and to show how fresh he was. struck into a new improvisation with wilder enthusiasm than ever. The host gave it up. stole out of the room and went to bed. At daybreak SaintSaens arose, gravely bowed to the tables and chairs, and went home, completely ignorant that the chairs and tables had been for hours his only audience.”

The Auckland Choral Society welcomed their new conductor. Dr. W. G. Thomas, at the third rehearsal of “The Light of Asia,” held last (Tuesday) evening. Mr VV. H. Webbe has received word by the last mail that H.R.H. the Duchess of York has been graciously pleased to accept the dediea:i.n of his new work, “The Pianists' ABC. Primer and Guide," recently publish'd in London. Mrs Howie, who accompanied the Rev. Chas. Clarke on his lecturing tour through Australia, and added greatly to the attractiveness of his entertainments by the ehann of her voice, has returned to Christchurch. While in Australia she was offered several engagements in America and India, but refused them, her desire being to vi-it England. Humoresque. In her “Memories, Past and Present,” which Miss Watts-Phil-lips is contributing to the Sydney “Town and Country Journal.” appears the following story of Toole. There was a long wait at the railway station at Stratford-on-Avon, Shakspere’s birthplace. It was a very w-et Sunday, and there seemed nothing to, and everyone felt wretched. Mr Toole said, "Oh. let’s do something. I’ll have a lark.” He walked down the street and, selecting a very modern looking red brick house belonging to a solicitor) hammered at the door. It was church time. Evidently the whole family was out, but the solicitor was in, and from his appearance, suffering from a. cold. He came to the door. Mr Toole assumed a- very strong American accent. “Guess, sir, I'm sorry to disturb you. but I am a worshipjyer of Shakspere." I know you English don’t like the Sabbath desecrated; but me and my friends are rushing through Europe, and we should like to see Shakspere’s birthplace. “I think, sir, you’ve made a mistake. This is a modern house. Shakspere’s birthplace is further on.”

■Mr Toole became suddenly deaf. “1 know I must apologise, but I couldn’t return to my native land and say 1 had not seen Shakspere’s house." The poor solicitor was standing on the doorstep and the rain was coming down in torrents. He raised his voice a little. “I say, sir. this is not Shakspere’s house.”

“Of course, of course, I know, but if you could only stretch a point and let us see it. Mr grandmother in Boston would die happy if I could give her details of ‘The Swan of Avon’s’ home.”

“This is not Shakspere’s house!” shouted the solicitor.

Still Mr Toole went on placidly arguing with him until the man was purple in the face with yelling. Toole whispered, “Is it time to return to the station?” “Yes.”

Then his deafness was gone and he began to make profuse apologies to the maddened solicitor, but still keeping him on the doorstep. As we heard the whistle of the down express. Toole bowed and. turning cheerfully round, remarked: “Well, that’s whiled away half an hour.”