LUDWIG SPOHR

Fac-simile letter from Schubert, to committee of Austrian Musical Society which accompanied his score of the C-minor symphony. Original in possession of the "Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde" in Vienna.

Now the person here mentioned as "one of our greatest German artists" can hardly be any other than Beethoven, and the following clauses, in which thebizarrerieascribed to him is defined, give expression to the stock objections that were urged in those days, by an unintelligent public and by musicians of narrow vision, against his music. Did the youthful Schubert mean to echo and approve these shallow criticisms? Sir George Grove seems to think so, and quotes from the same diary a passage, dated three days earlier, in which most intense love and admiration is expressed for Mozart's music; from which it is inferred that there can be no doubt to which of the two great masters Schubert was most strongly attached at that time. Kreissle, on the other hand, without offering any explanation of the passage above quoted, simply comments on it as a series of "somewhat misty and confused remarks."

In those days there was nothing strange in a young musician, even if endowed with vast powers of comprehension, finding Mozart always satisfactory and Beethoven sometimes unintelligible. That was one of the musical limitations of that particular moment in the history of music. If the entry in Schubert's diary is to be taken seriously, it is only one among many illustrations of the difficulty which one creative genius often finds in comprehending the methods and results of another creative genius. But in Schubert's case there is some improbability in such a view. His early symphonies and string quartets, indeed, show that the influence of Haydn and Mozart was at that time quite masterful with him, while the influence of Beethoven was comparatively slight. But he had already spoken of Beethoven in terms of most enthusiastic and reverent admiration; and it is not easy to believe that at the age of nineteen the composer of the Erl King could have seriously repeated the crude stock objections that were urged against the composer of the C-minor symphony by old fossils like Salieri. The entry in Schubert's diary is redolent of irony, and was probably intended as a harmless vent for his satirical amusement at the foibles of the kindly old master who tried to repress his youthful exuberance and advised him not to meddle with German ballads. This kind of humor without bitterness was eminently characteristic of Schubert.

Schubert's one fault was one to which allusion has already been made. As is so often the case, it was closely connected with his chief attribute of strength. His unrivalled spontaneity often led him into diffuseness. Melodies tumbled forth in such lavish profusion as to interfere with the conciseness of his works and mar their artistic form. This is chiefly true of his earlier instrumental works. It is not often the case with his vocal songs. There his musical creativeness is constrained into perfection of form through his completely adequate poetical conception of the words. From the Erl King to "Am Meer" his greatest songs are remarkable for saying just enough and knowing exactly when to stop. It is noticeable that he very seldom repeats the same verbal phrases, with changes of melody or harmony, as is customary in arias. In the arias, as well as in the grand choruses, of oratorios, cantatas, and operas, such repetition is often of the highest value as leading to an accumulation of sublime or gorgeous effects hardly otherwise attainable. But inasmuch as it is an artificial means of producing effects and would thus interfere with the simple spontaneity of the Lied, it would generally be out of place there. With Schubert the words of the poem are not merely a vehicle for the melody, but poetry and music are fused into such identity thatwhen one has once known them it becomes impossible to separate them. In his earlier instrumental works, however, released from the guidance of the poetical thought expressed in words, Schubert's exuberance of fancy often runs away with him, and takes him into a trackless forest of sweet melodies and rich harmonies from which he finds it difficult to emerge. But in his more mature works we find him rapidly outgrowing this fault and acquiring complete mastery of his resources. In the A-minor sonata, the D-minor quartet, and the last two symphonies, the form is as perfect as the thought; and we are thus again reminded that Schubert, like young Lycidas and others whom the gods have dearly loved, was cut off in his early prime.

So careless of fame was Schubert, so suddenly did death seize him, and so little did the world suspect the untold wealth of music written upon musty sheets of paper tucked away in sundry old drawers and cupboards in Vienna, that much of it has remained unknown until the present day. As from time to time new songs, sonatas, trios, or symphonies were brought to light, a witty French journal began to utter doubts of their genuineness and to scoff at the "posthumous diligence" of "the song-writer Schubert." This was in 1839. Schumann was one of the first to bring to light the great merits of Schubert's genius, as we have seen in the case of his Symphony in C major, and his enthusiasm for Schubert knew no bounds. "There was a time," he said, "when it gave me no pleasure to speak of Schubert; I could only talk of him by night to the trees and stars. Who amongst us, at some time or another, has not been sentimental? Charmed by his new spirit, whose capacities seemed to me boundless, deaf to everything that could be urged against him, my thoughts were absorbed in Schubert."

Since then much more has been done toward collecting and editing these wonderful manuscripts, and the thanks of the whole world of music-lovers are due to Sir George Grove for his devoted persistence in this work. Vast as Schubert's fame has come to be, it is probably destined to grow yet greater as his works and his influence are more intimately studied. Few indeed have been the composers who have ever brought us nearer to the eternal fountains of divine music.

The original documents for a biographical sketch, excepting the vast mass of manuscript music, are less abundant than with most other musicians of the highest rank. For this fact several causes may be assigned. Schubert was as careless of fame as Shakespeare. He was shy of disposition and inclined to withdraw himself from the world's gaze. He was not a virtuoso, and was never called upon, like the youthful Mozart, to play the piano or any other instrument before crowned heads, or in the presence of a public wild with enthusiasm; nor did he ever come into prominence as a director or conductor, like Handel and Mendelssohn. There was thus no occasion for him to make long journeys and become personally known to his contemporaries. In the course of his short life, except for a little travelling in rural Styria and Upper Austria, he never went outside of Vienna; and there he was not, like Beethoven, thrown habitually into the society of aristocratic people; his few companions were for the most part of humble station, though some of them in later years were not unknown to fame. The obscurity of Schubert during his lifetime cannot be better illustrated than by the fact that such a kindred spirit should have lived so many years in the same city with Beethoven—and Vienna was not then a large city—before attracting his attention. Nor did Schubert acquire distinction as a musical critic, like Schumann, or leave behind him writings characterized by philosophic acuteness or literary charm. He was simply and purely a composer, the most prolific, all things considered, that ever lived. He poured forth with incredible rapidity, songs, symphonies, sonatas, operas, masses, chamber-music, until sudden death overtook him. A great deal of this music he never heard himself except in his innermost soul; much of it still remained in manuscript forty years after his death; during his life he was known chiefly as a song writer, and in that department his unequalled excellence was recognized by few, while it was too soon for any one to comprehend the significance of his creative work in its relations to the development of modern music. Thus the reputation of Schubert, more than that of any other composer of like eminence, is a posthumous reputation. His existence was too large a fact for mankind to take in until after he had passed away. These facts account for the comparative slightness of biographical material in Schubert's case. There is, nevertheless, material enough to give usan adequate picture of that singularly simple and uneventful life, the details of which are largely comprised in the record of the compositions turned off one after another with bewildering rapidity.

Among biographical sources the first place belongs to the sketch "Aus Franz Schubert's Leben," by his brother Ferdinand Schubert. It was published in Schumann's "Neues Zeitschrift für Musik," 1839, numbers 33-36, and is so good as to make one wish there were much more of it. Between 1829 and 1880 personal reminiscences of Schubert were published by Mayrhofer, Bauernfeld, Schindler, Sofie Müller, and Ferdinand Hiller, bibliographical notes of which are given in Grove's "Dictionary of Music," Vol. III. p. 370. The first attempt at a thorough biography was the book of Kreissle von Hellborn, "Franz Schubert," of which the second edition, published at Vienna in 1865, is an octavo of 619 pages. Though dull and verbose in style, and quite without literary merit, its fullness and general accuracy of information make it a very valuable work. An English translation by Mr. Arthur Duke Coleridge was published by Longmans, Green & Co., in 1869, in 2 vols. 8vo, with an appendix by Grove, containing the results of researches made among Schubert manuscripts in Vienna in 1867. Much slighter works are the biographies by Reissmann (Berlin, 1873), Higgli (Leipsic, 1880), Frost (London, 1881), and the article in Wurzbach's "Biographisches Lexicon" (Vienna, 1876). The article by Sir George Grove, in his "Dictionary of Music" (London, 1883), for critical accuracy and thoroughness of information leaves little to be desired. There are also many excellent and profoundly appreciative notices of Schubert and his works scattered through Schumann's "Gesammelte Schriften über Musik und Musiker," 2ᵉ Aufl., Leipz., 1871. From the sources thus enumerated, as well as from a long study of Schubert's songs and piano music and an acquaintance more or less extensive with his other works, the foregoing sketch has been prepared.

John Fisher

Erl King. Pilgrim. Opera—"The Domestic War." Diana. The Fisher. FRESCO IN VIENNA OPERA HOUSE.—From a photograph.

LUDWIG SPOHRReproduction of a lithograph portrait by Schlick, made in 1855, Spohr being then in his seventy-second year.

LUDWIG SPOHR

Reproduction of a lithograph portrait by Schlick, made in 1855, Spohr being then in his seventy-second year.

LUDWIG SPOHR, celebrated as a composer and as a violinist, was born on April 25, 1784, at Brunswick. His father, a physician, and his mother both had musical inclinations, the former being a flute player and the latter a pianist and singer. They left Brunswick when Ludwig was two years old and went to Seesen, where the early childhood of the future composer was passed. The boy's musical gifts made themselves known early in life and he sang with his mother when he was only four years old. According to his own story in his autobiography, he began to play the violin without instruction at the age of five. He must have shown some talent, for he was turned over to Herr Riemenschneider for instruction. In a short time he was allowed to practise music with the family in the evenings and with his parents performed trios by Kalkbrenner for violin, flute and piano.

About the year 1790 or 1791, Dufour, a French violinist, arrived at Seesen and the boy, having heard him play, did not rest until he became the Frenchman's pupil. Dufour perceived the child's great gifts and persuaded Dr. Spohr to abandon the idea of educating his boy in medicine, and to decide to make a musician of him. While studying with Dufour, Spohr made his first crude attempts at composition, even beginning an opera, which, however, went no further than an overture, a chorus and an aria. Dufour advised that the child be sent to Brunswick to continue his studies. At Brunswick he lived in the house of one Michaelis, a rich baker, and studied the violin under Kunisch, of the Ducal orchestra, and counterpoint under Hartung, an old organist. Hartung was very severe with his young pupil and scratched out so much that the boy felt that none of his ideas were left. However, the ill health of the organist brought the lessons to an end in a few months, and this was all the instruction in theory that Spohr ever received. He now continued his studies by reading scores, which Kunisch obtained for him from the theatre library. He made such progress that he appeared at one of the concerts of the Catherine School with a violin composition of his own. His success was such that he was invited to play at the subscription concerts of the Deutsche Haus and was allowed to play for practice in the theatre orchestra, where he became acquainted with much good music.

He was now, by the advice of Kunisch, put under the instruction of Maucourt, the leading violinist of Brunswick. A year later the young violinist set out for Hamburg with a few letters of introduction and a determination to appear as an artist. He failed, however, to get a hearing, and his money being exhausted, he set out on foot to return to Brunswick. In his despair he determined to make a personal appeal to the Duke of Brunswick, to whom he drew up a petition and presented it when he met the nobleman, walking in his park. The Duke asked who had worded the petition. "Well, who but I myself?" answered Spohr; "I need no help for that." The Duke said: "Come to the palace tomorrow at eleven; we will then speak further about your request." Upon which the boy departed quite happy. The Duke questioned Maucourt about Spohr's ability, and when the lad called the next day told him that he was to play one of his own compositions at the next concert in the apartments of the Duchess. His performance so pleased the Duke that the nobleman promised him instruction under competent masters and appointed him chamber musician, Aug. 2, 1799. Spohr's salary was small, but it made him independent, and enabled him to take his younger brother, Ferdinand, to live with him.

At first the young chamber musician heard a good deal of French music, but an operatic company from Magdeburg introduced him to Mozart's music,and he says in his autobiography, "Mozart now became for my lifetime my ideal and model." He spent whole nights studying the scores of "Don Giovanni" and "Die Zauberflöte." Now, too, he played chamber music and first learned Beethoven's quartets. Finally the Duke asked him to select a teacher among the great violinists of the day. He at once named Viotti, but he had given up music for the business of selling wine. Ferdinand Eck was the next choice, but he declined to receive pupils. Francis Eck, his younger brother, accepted the Duke's offer and Spohr was sent with him to St. Petersburg, where he had engagements to fill. They left Brunswick on April 24, 1802. Owing to Eck's engagements his instruction of Spohr was irregular, but the boy gained much instruction from constantly hearing him. The young violinist was very industrious, often practising ten hours a day, composing considerably, and painting for recreation. While on this tour he wrote his first published violin concertos, Opus 1, A minor, and Opus 2, D minor, and the "Duos Concertants" for two violins, Opus 3. In St. Petersburg he met Clementi, Field and many minor musicians, and played frequently in chamber-music rehearsals. He also wrote in 1803 for Breitkopf and Härtel, the eminent Leipsic publishers, an article on the state of music in Russia. He returned to Brunswick in the summer of that year and heard Rode for the first time. He gave a public concert which pleased the Duke and resumed his duties as a member of the orchestra.

In 1804 he started for Paris with his fine Guarnerius violin, given him by Remi, a Russian violinist. Just outside of Göttingen it was stolen from the carriage. Spohr returned to Brunswick and with the Duke's help got another violin. Then he made a tour, playing in several German cities, including Leipsic, Dresden and Berlin, in the last place having the assistance of Meyerbeer, then a clever pianist thirteen years old. In 1805 Spohr became leader of the Duke of Gotha's band. He married Dorette Schneidler, a harp-player, and wrote for her and himself some compositions for harp and violin. He wrote his first opera, "Die Prüfung," which reached a concert performance. With his wife in 1807 he visited Leipsic, Dresden, Munich, Prague, Stuttgart, Heidelberg and Frankfort. His second opera "Alruna" was written in 1808, but it was never performed, though accepted at Weimar. In this year Spohr went to Erfurt to see Napoleon's congress of princes, but found that ordinary human beings like himself could not enter the theatre which they attended in the evenings. He persuaded the second horn player in the orchestra to allow him to take his place and practised on the horn all day. In the evening, being forbidden to stare at the august audience, he viewed the assembled potentates in a small mirror which he had taken with him for that purpose.

The year 1809 is important in Spohr's history for two reasons. While making a tour he received at Hamburg a commission for an opera, "The Lovers' Duel," and at Frankenhausen in Thuringia he conducted the first music festival in Germany. For the second of those festivals in 1811 he wrote his first symphony in E flat. The opera was also finished in the winter of 1810-1811. His first oratorio, "Das jüngste Gericht," was written for the Fête Napoleon at Erfurt and produced there Aug. 15, 1812. It was in the composition of this work that he found himself hampered by his lack of skill in counterpoint. He bought Marpurg's work and studied it. But Spohr was dissatisfied with his opera and with his oratorio. He felt that he was too much under the dominance of Mozart, and resolved to free himself from that master's influence. He says in his autobiography that in "Faust" he was careful to avoid imitating Mozart.

In 1812 he made his début at Vienna as violinist and composer with such success that the leadership of the orchestra at the Theatre an der Wien was offered to him. The conditions were very favorable, so he gave up his position at Gotha and betook himself to the Austrian capital. There his duties were burdensome, but he was in the musical centre of Europe. He met Beethoven, and was on terms of friendship with that great master, whose genius, however, he did not fully appreciate. Among his treasures when he left Vienna was a canon for three voices on some words from Schiller's "Maid of Orleans" written for him by Beethoven. Spohr's "Autobiography" contains some interesting anecdotes about Beethoven's conducting.

Spohr's Viennese sojourn was successful, but on account of disagreements with the manager of the theatre he left the city in 1815, and made a visit to Prince Carolath in Bohemia. His next musical undertaking was the conduct of another festival at Frankhausen. His cantata, "Das befreite Deutschland," was there produced. He afterward went ona tour through Germany, Switzerland and Italy, and his eighth violin concerto ("Scena Cantante") was written to please the public of the last-named country. In Italy he met Rossini, whom he never admired as a composer. He also met Paganini, who treated him with much courtesy.

Fac-simile of letter from Spohr deploring the death of his wife, in 1834.

In 1817 he returned to Germany. While travelling and giving concerts with his wife, he received an offer from Mr. Ihlée, director of the theatre at Frankfort, to become conductor of the opera there. He accepted the offer and at once set out for his new post. One of his first acts was to obtain the consent of the managers to the production of his opera "Faust" which he had written in Vienna five years before. He says, "At first, it is true, it pleased the great majority less than the connoisseurs, but with each representation gained more admirers." His success encouraged him to new dramatic attempts, and he set to work on an operatic version of Appel's "Der schwarze Jäger" (The Black Huntsman). He soon learned, however, that Weber was at work on the same subject, and he abandoned his opera. While looking for a new libretto he wrote the three quartets, Opus 45. In September, 1818, he began work on his "Zemire und Azor," of which the text had been previously used by Grétry in his "La Belle et la Bête." Disagreements with the managers of the Frankfort theatre caused him to resign his post there in September, 1819.

In 1820 he visited England at the invitation of the Philharmonic Society of London. His début was made at the opening concert of the season, March sixth, when he played with much success his Concerto No. 8. At the next concert he was to have appeared as leader. "It was at that time still the custom there," he says in his autobiography, "that when symphonies and overtures were performed, the pianist had the score before him, not exactly to conduct from it, but only to read after and to play in with the orchestra at pleasure, which when it was heard, had a very bad effect. The real conductor was the first violin, who gave the tempi, and now and then when the orchestra began to falter, gave the beat with the bow of his violin." Spohr induced Ries, the pianist, to let him make an experiment, and he conducted, after overcoming the opposition of the directors, with a baton, for the first time at one of these concerts. The success of the new method was so great that the old way went out forever. His symphony in D minor was produced at this concert, and at the last concert of the season another of his symphonies was heard for the first time in England. At his last concert, his wife, who had been since her arrival in England busily engaged in mastering the Erard double action harp (she had before played the single action instrument), appeared and was much applauded. Her health subsequently failed, and she died in 1834. Spohr married a second time in 1836. His second wife was Marianne Pfeiffer, the elder of the two daughters of the Chief Councillor of Cassel. She was a good pianist and played together with Spohr with considerable success. She died Jan. 4, 1892.

Spohr visited Paris for the first time on his way home from England. In the French capital he made the acquaintance of Kreutzer, Cherubini, Habeneck and other eminent musicians, all of whom received him with courteous consideration and showed a warm interest in his music. He gave a concert at the Opera with satisfying success. Cherubini was particularly pleased with his work, and Spohr tells with pride how the old martinet of the Conservatoire made him play one of his quartets three times. Spohr returned to Germany and took up his residence in the artistic city of Dresden, where he found Weber engaged in producing "Der Freischütz," already a pronounced success in Vienna and Berlin. Weber was offered the post of Hof-Kapellmeister by the Elector of Cassel, but he declined it because he did not wish to leave Dresden. He warmly recommended Spohr, who received the appointment, accepted it, and on Jan. 1, 1822, entered upon his duties in the city which was to be his home for the rest of his life. The first new work studied there under his direction was his own "Zemire und Azor," which was produced on March 24, and repeated several times in the course of the year. His family arrived at Cassel in March, and he settled down in the domestic circle and began the composition of "Jessonda," which he finished in December, 1822. In a letter written in January, 1823, he says: "I have been latterly so much engaged upon a new opera that I have somewhat neglected everything else. It is now ready, and I am right glad to have completed so important a work. If I expect more from this opera than from the earlier ones, it is because of my greater experience, and the inspiration I felt in the study of almost every number ofthe successfully written libretto." The opera was produced on the birthday of the Elector, July 28, 1823, and was at once successful. Spohr writes (Aug. 2, 1823): "This work has made me very happy, and I have reason to hope that the opera will please much in other places."

Reproduced from a lithograph portrait drawn by W. Pfaff.

[Midi] [XML] [[audio/mpeg]

At this time Spohr continued the composition of chamber music and formed a quartet, consisting of himself, Wiele, solo violinist of the court orchestra, Ferdinand Spohr, viola, and Haseman, 'cello. About this time, too, he wrote the first of his four double quartets, which were then a great novelty. He visited Leipsic and Berlin to conduct first performances of "Jessonda," which in both cities achieved great success. In 1824, he enjoyed the society of Mendelssohn during the winter in Berlin. Returning to Cassel he wrote his opera "Der Berggeist," which was produced at the marriage of the Elector's daughter on Mar. 23, 1825, and was well received.

In the same year Rochlitz, editor of the LeipsicMusic Journal, offered him the text of the oratorio, "The Last Judgment," and he set to work on it at once. The oratorio was produced in the Lutheran church of Cassel, on Good Friday, Mar. 25, 1826, and made a deep impression. In 1827, he produced another opera, "Pietro von Albano," which in spite of Meyerbeer's enthusiastic praise, had little success. In 1831, he finished his "Violin School," a book of instruction which is still held in esteem though not regarded as the best. In 1832, political disturbances, in which Spohr played the radical and offended the Elector,interruptedthe opera performances at Cassel for a long time, and the artist devoted his time to oratorio and instrumental composition. In 1832 he wrote his most noted symphony, "The Consecration of Tones," and in 1834 he was at work on his "Calvary," which was produced at Cassel on Good Friday, 1835. He went to England a second time in 1839, to conduct "Calvary" at the Norwich Festival. The success of the work was so great that he was commissioned to write "The Fall of Babylon" (the book by Edward Taylor) for the Norwich Festival of 1842. In 1840 he conducted a festival at Aix-la-Chapelle, and in 1842 he produced Wagner's "Der Fliegende Holländer" at Cassel.

He had heard much in its praise from Dresden, and having read the work was at once pleased with it. In writing to a friend he said: "It interests me, nevertheless, in the highest degree, for it is written apparently with true inspiration—and unlike so much of the modern opera music, does not display in every bar the striving after effect, or effort to please. There is a great deal of the fanciful there-in; a noble conception throughout; it is well-written for the singer; enormously difficult, it is true, and somewhat overcharged in the instrumentation, but full of new effects, and will assuredly, when it once comes to be performed in the greater space of the theatre, be thoroughly clear, and intelligible.... I think I am so far correct in my judgment, when I consider Wagner as the most gifted of all our dramatic composers of the present time." This opinion of Spohr's is creditable to his judgment as a musician and his generosity as a man. He worked hard and gave a performance which pleased the public. He wrote to Wagner of the success of his work and received from the young composer one of his characteristic letters of gratitude.

The Elector of Hesse-Cassel, unmoved even by a monster petition headed with the name of Lord Aberdeen, declined to permit Spohr to go to England, and conduct the "Fall of Babylon" at the Norwich Festival. The oratorio was produced without his assistance and was highly successful. He went to England, however, at the beginning of his summer vacation and gave some profitable concerts. In 1844 he brought forward his last opera, "Die Kreuzfahrer" ("The Crusaders"). For this he had arranged his own libretto from a play by Kotzebue. The success of the opera, performed at Cassel and Berlin, was brief. He made a trip to Paris, where the Conservatoire orchestra honored him with a special performance of his "Consecration of Tones." He conducted the "Missa Solemnis" and the Ninth Symphony at the Beethoven Festival at Bonn, in the same year. In 1847 he again visited London, when his "Fall of Babylon," "Last Judgment," "Lord's Prayer," and Milton's eighty-fourth psalm were presented in three concerts by the Sacred Harmonic Society. In the same year the twenty-fifth anniversary of his assumption of the directorship at Cassel was celebrated by a performance of excerpts from his operas.

The revolutionary events of 1848 interrupted Spohr's flow of compositions. He felt, as he wrote to his friend Hauptmann, that "the excitement of politics and the constant reading of newspapers incapacitatedhim from giving his attention to any serious and quiet study." In 1849, while recovering from an illness caused by a fall on the ice, he planned his ninth symphony, "The Seasons," which he wrote shortly after his recovery. He went to Breslau in the hope of hearing Schumann's "Genoveva," but owing to delays heard only some rehearsals. During his two weeks' stay in Breslau, honors were heaped upon him. Banquets were given, concerts of his music were arranged, and his opera "Zemire und Azor" was performed at the theatre. In 1850 he was made to suffer from court malice. The Elector, probably to chastise him for his radical political ideas, refused him permission to take a summer vacation. He went away without leave, and the result was a lawsuit with the managers of the theatre, which after four years he lost by a technicality.

In 1852, at the invitation of the Covent Garden management, he again visited England to produce his "Faust," which was successfully given on July 15 with Castellan, Ronconi, Formes and Tamberlik in the principal parts. In 1853 Spohr showed once more his respect and consideration for the rising genius of Wagner by devoting his energies to a careful production of "Tannhäuser." The letters of Spohr show that while he heartily sympathized with Wagner's irresistible sincerity of purpose and the honesty of his dramatic art, he, like many others, found the new master's manner of writing hard to comprehend. He exclaims in one letter to Hauptmann: "What faces would Haydn and Mozart make, were they obliged to hear the stunning noise that is now given to us for music." Nevertheless Spohr saw the germs of a noble dramatic style in these works of Wagner, and after his successful and artistically admirable production of "Tannhäuser," he turned his attention to "Lohengrin." Owing, however, to the opposition of the Elector and the court, the work was not produced, and, indeed, Spohr never heard it. In the same year (1853) he made his sixth visit to London, conducting three concerts of the New Philharmonic Society, at which, among other things, his own double symphony and Beethoven's ninth were performed. His opera "Jessonda" was put in rehearsal at Covent Garden by Mr. Gye, but Spohr had to return to Cassel before it was produced.

On his return journey he planned his septet for piano, two stringed and four wind instruments, one of his most admired chamber compositions. In 1854 he passed his summer vacation in Switzerland and visited Munich. In 1855 he visited Hanover, where he heard his seventh violin concerto played, as he writes, "in a very masterly manner, by Joachim." On his departure from Hanover the Royal Hanoverian Chapel presented him with a very handsome conductor's baton. In 1856 Spohr became conscious that his productive powers were failing. He wrote two quartets and a symphony, all three of which he condemned, after repeated alterations, to remain in manuscript and silence. In 1857 he made a trip through Holland and returned to Cassel much refreshed. On Nov. 14, much against his inclination, the elector retired him from active duty on a pension of fifteen hundred thalers per annum. He soon became reconciled to his retirement, but two days after Christmas he met with a more serious misfortune in a fall which broke his left arm and rendered him incapable of further violin playing. This was a source of deep grief to him and no doubt prepared his spirit for the final resignation of all earthly joys. How he clung to his artistic endeavors may be seen in a letter to Hauptmann (April 6, 1858) in which he says: "I am now perfectly convinced that I cannot accomplish any great work more. I regret to say that my last attempt of the kind failed, and my requiem remains a fragment; nevertheless, as the subject, as far as theLachrimosa dies illa, at which I stuck fast, pleases me well, and seems to have much that is new and ingenious in it, I shall not destroy it, as I should like to take it up again, and shall make another attempt to complete it." He devoted half a day to this attempt, but the effort only brought him to a final determination to abandon composition for good and all.

In the beginning of July he went to Prague, when the 50th anniversary of the Conservatory was celebrated by three musical performances, one being of "Jessonda." On the way home he visited Alexandersbad, returning much refreshed. Yet thenceforward his spirits declined; he complained to his wife that he was weary of life because he could no longer do anything. In September, however, he summoned enough interest to go to the Middle-Rhine Festival at Wiesbaden and in October to Leipsic. In December, 1858, he occupied himself once more as a teacher, giving lessons gratis to a poor girl who wished to become a teacher. On April 12, 1859, he made his last appearance as aconductor, directing his own "Consecration of Tones" symphony at a charitable concert by the Meiningen court orchestra. In the course of the summer he made a few short journeys, but could not conceal from himself their evil effects. On Sunday, Oct. 16, a change in his condition became manifest. On retiring that night he expressed to his wife a hope that he should "at length have a good night's rest." In the morning he awoke calm and refreshed in spirit, but his physician at once saw that the end was at hand. He lingered, surrounded by those he loved, till Oct. 22, when at 10.30 in the evening he peacefully passed away. In 1883 a statue was erected to his memory.

Spohr's principal works are as follows: oratorios and cantatas—"Das jüngste Gericht" ("The Last Judgment," first version, 1812), "Die Letzten Dinge" ("The Last Judgment," second version, 1826), "Des Heilands letzte Stunden" ("Calvary," 1835), "Der Fall Babylons" ("The Fall of Babylon," 1841), and "Das befreite Deutschland" ("Free Germany"), MS.; operas—"Die Prüfung" ("The Trial," 1806), "Alruna" (1808), "Die Eulenkönigin" ("The Owl Queen," 1808), "Die Zweikampf mit der Geliebten" ("The Lovers' Duel," 1811), "Faust" (1818), "Zemire und Azor" (1819), "Jessonda" (1823), "Der Berggeist" ("The Mountain Spirit," 1825), "Pietro von Albano" (1827), "Der Alchymist" ("The Alchemist," 1830), and "Die Kreuzfahrer" ("The Crusaders," 1845); church music—mass for five solo voices and two five-part choruses, opus 54: three psalms for double chorus and soli, opus 85; hymn, "Gott du bist gross" ("God thou art great"), for chorus, soli and orchestra; symphonies—No. 1, E flat, opus 20; No. 2, D minor, opus 49; No. 3, C minor, opus 78; No. 4, "Consecration of Tones," F, opus 86; No. 5, C minor, opus 102; No. 6, "Historical symphony," G, opus 116; No. 7, "The Earthly and Heavenly in Men's Lives," for two orchestras, C, opus 121; No. 8, G minor, opus 137; No. 9, "The Seasons," B minor, opus 143; eight overtures, 17 violin concertos and concertinas, 15 violin duets, 33 string quartets, 8 quintets, four double quartets, 5 pianoforte trios, 2 sextets, an octet and a nonet, and many songs. Schletterer's catalogue of his works (published by Breitkopf and Härtel) carries the opus numbers up to 154, many of theoperaembracing six compositions, and there are a dozen compositions without opus numbers, among which are some of his operas and oratorios. In all he left over two hundred works, in all fields of composition.

It is difficult for us at this day to fairly estimate the importance of Spohr as a figure in musical history. Dates show us that his finest works chanced to see the light about the same time as the over-shadowing masterpieces of Weber and Mendelssohn. Thus "Faust" produced in 1818, was eclipsed by "Der Freischütz," in 1821, and his "Calvary" (1835) by "St. Paul" (1836). His "Last Judgment" alone had a free field for a time. But though we with over half a century's perspective find the masterworks of Weber and Mendelssohn still in the foreground, while Spohr recedes into the middle distance, the contemporaries of these composers saw them standing apparently shoulder to shoulder at the front of the picture. Spohr's influence upon those who lived when he did was very considerable, and, more than that, there are certain features of his style, which, it cannot be doubted, presented themselves as attractive models to his immediate followers along the path of musical progress.

Believing himself to be a disciple of Mozart, and striving to preserve in his writings the suave beauty and sculpturesque repose of the Mozart style, Spohr was at heart a romanticist, was in the vanguard of the new romantic movement in Germany, and established in his compositions some of those peculiarities which have come to be regarded as special characteristics of romantic utterance. While, therefore, he created no school and, except in violin playing, has had no large following, he exercised over his younger contemporaries a discernible influence, which cannot be disregarded. That no one in our time looks to the works of Spohr for models, does not obliterate the fact that he was an influential factor in the development of that romantic school which has given us all that is greatest in music since the death of Beethoven. One critic has well said of him: "Spohr's noble sentimentalityand warmth of expression excited during his lifetime all the youth of Germany into an unusual enthusiasm. The composer's influence is now somewhat less than it was, and indeed latterly his productions have been underrated, but as all that is genuine resists momentary bias, Spohr's works are once again coming to the fore. In history, Spohr stands as a most important link between the old and new romantic schools of German tonal art. As a tone-poet he possesses an individuality so strongly marked, and so important an idiosyncrasy, that he cannot like Marschner, Kreutzer, Reissiger, and others, be identified with the school of Weber, but stands almost independent between the last-named master and men like Mendelssohn and Schumann."

Fac-simile of Introduction to Spohr's fourth Double Quartette in G minor. Original in possession of the Musical Library at Dresden.

[See larger version] [Midi] [XML] [[audio/mpeg]

The special feature of his style, which the critic just quoted calls an "important idiosyncrasy," was his mastery of chromatic modulations. The use of chromatic harmonies is characteristic of the romantic school, its further development being seen in the "Tristan und Isolde" of Wagner. It may be well to add, for the further enlightenment of the lay reader, that chromatic modulation is the secret of that flexibility of style and largeness of tonal atmosphere which are found in Wagner's works; and for the first determined movement in this direction we must thank Spohr. Nevertheless, Spohr's use of chromatic modulations was wholly unlike that of later composers. As Emil Naumann says, "If Salieri is justified in saying of certain composers, who use venturesome skips in their modulations, that they are like a man who jumps through the window when the door is open, we may well say of Spohr that he passes the open door at least six times before he decides upon entering." This circumlocution is unquestionably the result of Spohr's endeavor to place upon his natural impulses the curb of the Mozartean polish. The outcome of his self-restraint is the reduction of his operas to a dead level of sweetness that becomes wearisome.

It was this never-ceasing mellifluous quality that forced itself upon the attention of Chorley and made even that eminent lover of Bellini cry for something else besides candy. Says Chorley: "The most graceful Italian garden, where 'grove nods to grove—each alley has its brother,' is not arranged with a more perpetual reference to reflexion, parallel, reply, repetition, than the largest or the least piece of handiwork put forth by this arithmetically orderly composer. Further, Dr. Spohr's vocal ideas and phrases have, for the most part, a certain suavity and flow, belonging to the good school of graceful cantabile, eminently commendable, when not indisputably charming. But it is difficult, nay, I may say at once, impossible, to cite any motive from his pen, which, by its artless vivacity, seizes and retains the ear; and there are few of his melodies that do not recall better tunes by better men." This sweet level of cantilena undoubtedly also impressed itself on Schumann, who was expressing his admiration of Spohr when he said: "As he looks at everything as though through tears, his figures run into each other like formless, etherial shapes, for which we can scarcely find a name."

In fine Spohr's works reveal to us a man who was deficient in personal force because he was not a creative genius, but who exerted all the influence of an original mind upon his contemporaries because he was wholly at heart and almost wholly in practice in touch with a movement new and absorbing. If Spohr had possessed real creative genius, his devotion to Mozart as a model would have dwindled before the incitements of the movement toward national romanticism which was agitating German literature and art. His yearning toward the freedom and infinite possibilities of chromatic harmonies brought him into direct conflict with the polished symmetry, the veneration for a set form and a conventional distribution of keys, of the classic period of Mozart. Had he been a man of aggressive individuality he would not have made the mistake of putting an intellectual curb on his emotional impulses, but would have spoken according to the promptings of his heart.

But Spohr, though earnest in his purposes and intolerant of all that was not sincere in art, was altogether of too amiable a nature to rudely cross the Rubicon and seize upon the new territory. He was among those who saw the promised land, who felt the embrace of its atmosphere, and who yet hesitated upon the borders. The trumpet call of modern romanticism was sounded in 1821 when Vogl made Schubert's "Erl King" known to Germany, and in the same year Weber thrilled the hearts of his countrymen by giving them a national opera, "Der Freischütz," whose story, like that of Schubert's song, was taken from the folk-lore of the people. Spohr followed these leaders in making use of the national literatures as in "Faust," and the tales of the fireside, as in "Zemire und Azor"; buthe emasculated his music in his endeavor to cling to the style of a period which had terminated. What might have been a style leading directly into the restless eloquence of the Wagnerian diction became a "lingering sweetness, long drawn out," and it was reserved for Weber, who had the necessary force, the resistless energy of creative power, to become the founder of true German opera and the artistic progenitor of Richard Wagner.

Wagner showed a warm appreciation of Spohr. He expressed his admiration for the composer in a letter to a Dresden friend written from Paris, in 1860, when he was preparing to produce "Tannhäuser" in the French capital. He wrote thus: "Almost simultaneously I lost by death two venerable men most worthy of respect. The death of one came home to the whole musical world, which deplores the loss of Ludwig Spohr. I leave it to that world to estimate what wealth of power, how noble a productiveness departed with the master's death. To me it is a painful reminder that with him departed the last of that company of noble, earnest musicians whose youth was directly illuminated by the glowing sun of Mozart and who like vestals fed the flame received from him with touching fidelity and protected it against all storms and winds on their chaste hearths. This lovely office preserved the man pure and noble; and if I were to undertake to express in a single phrase what Spohr proclaimed to me with such ineradicable impressiveness, I would say: He was an earnest, upright master of his art. The 'handle' of his life was faith in his art; and his greatest refreshment flowed from the potency of this belief. And this earnest faith emancipated him from all personal pettiness. All that was entirely foreign to him he severely let alone without attacking it or persecuting it. This was the coldness and brusqueness with which he was so often charged. That which was comprehensible to him (and the composer of 'Jessonda' may be credited with a deep, fine feeling for everything beautiful), that he loved and cherished, without circumlocution and with zeal, so soon as he recognized one thing in it—seriousness, a serious intention toward art. Herein lay the bond which attached him in his old age to the new endeavors in art. He could remain a stranger to it, but not an enemy. Honor to our Spohr; venerate his memory! Let us imitate his example."

Another feature of Spohr's music which calls for mention is his predilection for a programme. He was a believer in the ability of the composer to convey his emotions through the medium of absolute music to the hearer. His "Consecration of Tones" symphony, for instance, is an attempt to depict in music the part which music plays in life and nature—an attempt not wholly successful. But these labors give Spohr a place among the founders of modern romantic writing for orchestra, and as such he must be respected. His chamber music is distinguished by the general characteristics of his style, and by a beautiful clearness of construction.

As a composer of violin music and as a performer on the instrument Spohr exercised influence which is still felt. His pupils were Hubert Ries, St. Lubin, David, Bott, Blagrove, Kömpel and C. L. Bargheer, all players of note. David was the teacher of Wilhelmj, whose Doric style preserved all forcible simplicity and repose of the Spohr manner. Spohr's playing was based on the solid principles of the Mannheim school, modified somewhat by the style of Rode, for whom Spohr had a great and well-grounded admiration. But, as we should expect, Spohr in his maturity arrived at the possession of a style which was wholly the product of his own individuality. The fundamental and vital characteristic of his playing was his treatment of the violin as a singing voice. He played with immense breadth and purity of tone, with subtle delicacy of touch, and with exquisite refinement of phrasing. He had no taste for the free style of bowing cultivated by Paganini and was opposed to anything approaching thesaltato. He had a large hand and was thus enabled to execute difficult passages of double stopping with accuracy.

Violin technics have been developed so much since Spohr's time that his compositions do not present alarming difficulties to contemporaneous performers. Nevertheless, they were sufficiently difficult at the time of their production, and they remain among the acceptable works for violin. His concertos—at any rate, the best of them—are heard occasionally in concert rooms to-day, not without pleasure, though they are open to those objections which have been made against his operatic and orchestral music. His earlier concertos show the immediate influence of Viotti and Rode, but his later works were the most valuable contribution that had been made to the literature of the violin, except the Beethoven concerto up to thetime when Spohr ceased to compose them. Indeed Spohr must be credited with fully as earnest an endeavor to raise the violin concerto from the level of a mere show piece to that of a serious and artistic composition as either Beethoven or Mendelssohn. Paul David has rightly said: "It was mainly owing to the sterling musical worth of Spohr's violin compositions that the great qualities of the classical Italian and the Paris schools have been preserved to the present day, and have prevented the degeneration of violin-playing.... He set a great example of purity of style and legitimate treatment of the instrument—an example which has lost none of its force in the lapse of more than half a century."

Back to Index Next