Several years ago Your Serene Electoral Highness was graciously pleased to retire my father, the tenor singer van Beethoven, from service, and to set aside 100 thalers of his salary to me that I might clothe, nourish and educate my two younger brothers and also pay the debts of my father.I was about to present this decree to Your Highness’s Revenue Exchequer when my father urgently begged me not to do so inasmuch as it would have the appearance in the eyes of the public as if he were incapable of caring for his family, adding that he would himself pay me the 25 thalers quarterly, which he always did.When, however, on the death of my father (in December of last year) I wished to make use of Your Highness’s grace by presenting the above-mentioned gracious decree I learned to my terror, that my father had misapplied (unterschlagen= to embezzle) the same.In most obedient veneration I therefore pray Your Electoral Highness for the gracious renewal of this decree and that Your Highness’s Revenue Exchequer be directed to pay over to me the sum graciously allowed to me due for the last quarter at the beginning of last February.Your Electoral and Serene Highness’sMost obedient and faithfulLud. v. Beethoven; Court Organist.
Several years ago Your Serene Electoral Highness was graciously pleased to retire my father, the tenor singer van Beethoven, from service, and to set aside 100 thalers of his salary to me that I might clothe, nourish and educate my two younger brothers and also pay the debts of my father.
I was about to present this decree to Your Highness’s Revenue Exchequer when my father urgently begged me not to do so inasmuch as it would have the appearance in the eyes of the public as if he were incapable of caring for his family, adding that he would himself pay me the 25 thalers quarterly, which he always did.
When, however, on the death of my father (in December of last year) I wished to make use of Your Highness’s grace by presenting the above-mentioned gracious decree I learned to my terror, that my father had misapplied (unterschlagen= to embezzle) the same.
In most obedient veneration I therefore pray Your Electoral Highness for the gracious renewal of this decree and that Your Highness’s Revenue Exchequer be directed to pay over to me the sum graciously allowed to me due for the last quarter at the beginning of last February.
Your Electoral and Serene Highness’sMost obedient and faithfulLud. v. Beethoven; Court Organist.
The petition was duly considered by the Privy Council and with the result indicated by the endorsement:
ad sup.of the Court Organist L. van Beethoven... “The 100 reichsthaler which he is now receiving annually is increased by a further 100 reichsthaler in quarterly payments beginning with January 1st, from the 200 rth. salary vacated by the death of his father; he is further to receive the three measures of grain graciously bestowed upon him for the education of his brothers.” The Electoral Court Chancellory will make the necessary provisions. Attest p.
ad sup.of the Court Organist L. van Beethoven... “The 100 reichsthaler which he is now receiving annually is increased by a further 100 reichsthaler in quarterly payments beginning with January 1st, from the 200 rth. salary vacated by the death of his father; he is further to receive the three measures of grain graciously bestowed upon him for the education of his brothers.” The Electoral Court Chancellory will make the necessary provisions. Attest p.
ad sup.of the Court Organist L. van Beethoven
... “The 100 reichsthaler which he is now receiving annually is increased by a further 100 reichsthaler in quarterly payments beginning with January 1st, from the 200 rth. salary vacated by the death of his father; he is further to receive the three measures of grain graciously bestowed upon him for the education of his brothers.” The Electoral Court Chancellory will make the necessary provisions. Attest p.
The order to the exchequer followed on May 24th, and on June 15th, Franz Ries had the satisfaction of signing receipts—one for 25 thalers for January, February and March, and one for 50 thalers for the second quarter of the year; but from this time onward no hint has yet been discovered that Beethoven ever received anything from the Elector or had any resources but his own earnings and the generosity of newly-found friends in Vienna. These resources were soon needed. The remark that two florins of the payment towards the pianoforte were out of his own money proves that he possessed a small sum saved up by degrees from lesson-giving, from presents received and the like; but it could not have been a large amount, while the 25 ducats and the above recorded receipts of salary were all too small to have carried him through the summer of 1793. Here is the second of his monthlyrecords of necessary and regular expenses in farther proof of this: “14 florins house-rent; 6 fl. 40 x, pianoforte; meals with wine, 15 fl. and a half;—(?), 3 florins; maid, 1,” the sum total being as added by himself “11 ducats and one-half florin.” And yet at the end of the year there are entries that show that he was not distressed for money. For instance: “the 24th October, i.e., reckoning from November 1st, 112 florins and 30 kreutzer”; “2 ducats for a seal; 1 florin, 25 kreutzers, copyist”; “Tuesday and Saturday from 7 to 8. Sunday from 11 to 12, 3 florins”; and the final entry not later in date than 1794 is: “3 carolins in gold, 4 carolins in crown thalers and 4 ducats make 7 carolins and 4 ducats and a lot of small change.”
In what manner Beethoven was already in 1794 able to remain “in Vienna without salary until recalled,” to quote the Elector’s words, will hereafter appear with some degree of certainty; but just now he claims attention as pupil of Haydn and Albrechtsberger. The citations made in a previous chapter from the letters of Neefe and Fischenich prove how strong an impression Beethoven’s powers, both as virtuoso and composer, had made upon Joseph Haydn immediately after his reaching Vienna; and no man then living was better able to judge on such points. But whether the famous chapelmaster, just returned from his English triumphs, himself a daring and successful innovator and now very busy with compositions in preparation for his second visit to London, was the man to guide the studies of a headstrong, self-willed and still more daring musical revolutionist was,a priori, a very doubtful question. The result proved that he was not.
Beethoven’s Studies With Haydn
The memorandum book has a few entries which relate to Haydn. On page 7, that which contains the 15 ducats on the 12th of October, 1792, there is a column of numerals, the first of which reads, “Haidn 8 groschen”; the other twelve, except a single “1,” all “2”; and on the two pages which happen to have the dates of October 24 and 29, 1793, are these two entries: “22 x, chocolate for Haidn and me”; “Coffee, 6 x for Haidn and me.” These notes simply confirm what was known from other sources, namely, that Beethoven began to study with Haydn very soon after reaching Vienna and continued to be his pupil until the end of the year 1793.[64]They indicate, also, that the scholar, whatever feelings he may have indulged towards the master in secret, kept on good terms with him, and that their private intercourse was not confined to the hours devoted to lessons in Haydn’s room inthe Hamberger house, No. 992 on the (no longer existing) Wasserkunstbastei.
Concerning the course of study during that year, nothing can be added to the words of Nottebohm (“Allg. Mus. Zeitung,” 1863-1864), founded upon a most thorough examination of all the known manuscripts and authorities which bear upon this question. Of the manuscripts Nottebohm says: “They are exercises in simple counterpoint on six plain chants in the old modes.... He must have written more.” But what? On this point there are no indications to be found. It may be accepted with considerable certainty that the contrapuntal exercises were preceded by an introductory, though probably brief, study of the nature of consonances and dissonances. For this the last chapter of the first book of Fux’s “Gradus ad Parnassum” might have served.
But this (adds Nottebohm) would not have sufficed to fill the entire period. In view of Haydn’s predilection for Fux’s system it is not conceivable that there were preliminary exercises, say in the free style or in the modern keys; there remains, therefore, no alternative but to go back further and opine that the study with Haydn began with the theory of harmony and exercises in which the system of Philipp Emanuel Bach might have been used.
But this (adds Nottebohm) would not have sufficed to fill the entire period. In view of Haydn’s predilection for Fux’s system it is not conceivable that there were preliminary exercises, say in the free style or in the modern keys; there remains, therefore, no alternative but to go back further and opine that the study with Haydn began with the theory of harmony and exercises in which the system of Philipp Emanuel Bach might have been used.
“It is certain,” says Schindler, “that Beethoven’s knowledge of the science of harmony at the time when he began his study with Haydn did not go beyond thoroughbass.” The correctness of this opinion of Schindler may be safely left to the judgment of the reader. The fact seems to be that Beethoven, conscious of the disadvantages attending the want of thorough systematic instruction, distrustful of himself and desirous of bringing to the test many of his novel and cherished ideas, had determined to accomplish a complete course of contrapuntal study, and thus renew, revise and reduce to order and system the great mass of his previous scientific acquirements. He would, at all events, thoroughly know and understand theregularthat he might with confidence judge for himself how far to indulge in theirregular. To this view, long since adopted, the results of Nottebohm’s researches add credibility. It explains, also, how a young man, too confident in the soundness of his views to be willing to alter his productions because they contained passages and effects censured by those about him for being other than those of Mozart and Haydn, was yet willing, with the modesty of true genius, to shut them up in his writing-desk until, through study and observation, he could feel himself standing upon the firm basis of soundknowledge and then retain or exclude, according to the dictates of an enlightened judgment.
Beethoven, however, very soon discovered that also in Haydn, as a teacher, he had “not found that excellence which he supposed he had a right to expect.” Ries remembered a remark made by him on this point: “Haydn had wished that Beethoven might put the word, ‘Pupil of Haydn,’ on the title of his first works. Beethoven was unwilling to do so because, as he said, though he had had some instruction from Haydn he had never learned anything from him.” Still more in point is the oft-repeated story of Johann Schenk’s kindness to Beethoven, related by Seyfried in Gräfer’s and Schilling’s lexica and confirmed by Schindler, which, when divested of its errors in dates, may be related thus: Among Beethoven’s earliest acquaintances in Vienna was the Abbé Joseph Gelinek, one of the first virtuosos then in that city and an amazingly fruitful and popular composer of variations. It was upon him that Carl Maria von Weber, some years afterwards, wrote the epigram:
Kein Thema auf der Welt verschonte dein Genie,Das simpelste allein—Dich selbst—variirst du nie!“No theme on earth escaped your genius airy,—The simplest one of all—yourself—you never vary.”
Kein Thema auf der Welt verschonte dein Genie,Das simpelste allein—Dich selbst—variirst du nie!“No theme on earth escaped your genius airy,—The simplest one of all—yourself—you never vary.”
Kein Thema auf der Welt verschonte dein Genie,Das simpelste allein—Dich selbst—variirst du nie!
“No theme on earth escaped your genius airy,—The simplest one of all—yourself—you never vary.”
Czerny told Otto Jahn that his father once met Gelinek tricked out in all his finery. “Whither?” he inquired. “I am asked to measure myself with a young pianist who is just arrived; I’ll use him up.” A few days later he met him again. “Well, how was it?” “Ah, he is no man; he’s a devil. He will play me and all of us to death. And how he improvises!” According to Czerny, Gelinek remained a sworn enemy to Beethoven.
It was in Gelinek’s lodgings that Schenk heard Beethoven improvise for the first time,
a treat which recalled lively recollections of Mozart. With many manifestations of displeasure, Beethoven, always eager to learn, complained to Gelinek that he was never able to make any progress in his contrapuntal studies under Haydn, since the master, too variously occupied, was unable to pay the amount of attention which he wanted to the exercises he had given him to work out. Gelinek spoke on the subject with Schenk and asked him if he did not feel disposed to give Beethoven a course in composition. Schenk declared himself willing, with ready courtesy, but only under two conditions: that it should be without compensation of any kind and under the strict seal of secrecy. The mutual agreement was made and kept with conscientious fidelity.
a treat which recalled lively recollections of Mozart. With many manifestations of displeasure, Beethoven, always eager to learn, complained to Gelinek that he was never able to make any progress in his contrapuntal studies under Haydn, since the master, too variously occupied, was unable to pay the amount of attention which he wanted to the exercises he had given him to work out. Gelinek spoke on the subject with Schenk and asked him if he did not feel disposed to give Beethoven a course in composition. Schenk declared himself willing, with ready courtesy, but only under two conditions: that it should be without compensation of any kind and under the strict seal of secrecy. The mutual agreement was made and kept with conscientious fidelity.
Thus far Seyfried; we shall now permit Schenk to tell his own story:[65]
In 1792, His Royal Highness Archduke Maximilian, Elector of Cologne, was pleased to send his charge Louis van Beethoven to Vienna to study musical composition with Haydn. Towards the end of July, Abbé Gelinek informed me that he had made the acquaintance of a young man who displayed extraordinary virtuosity on the pianoforte, such, indeed, as he had not observed since Mozart. In passing he said that Beethoven had been studying counterpoint with Haydn for more than six months and was still at work on the first exercise; also that His Excellency Baron van Swieten had earnestly recommended the study of counterpoint and frequently inquired of him how far he had advanced in his studies. As a result of these frequent incitations and the fact that he was still in the first stages of his instruction, Beethoven, eager to learn, became discontented and often gave expression to his dissatisfaction to his friend. Gelinek took the matter much to heart and came to me with the question whether I felt disposed to assist his friend in the study of counterpoint. I now desired to become better acquainted with Beethoven as soon as possible, and a day was fixed for me to meet him in Gelinek’s lodgings and hear him play on the pianoforte.Beethoven’s ImprovisationsThus I saw the composer, now so famous, for the first time and heard him play. After the customary courtesies he offered to improvise on the pianoforte. He asked me to sit beside him. Having struck a few chords and tossed off a few figures as if they were of no significance, the creative genius gradually unveiled his profound psychological pictures. My ear was continually charmed by the beauty of the many and varied motives which he wove with wonderful clarity and loveliness into each other, and I surrendered my heart to the impressions made upon it while he gave himself wholly up to his creative imagination, and anon, leaving the field of mere tonal charm, boldly stormed the most distant keys in order to give expression to violent passions....The first thing that I did the next day was to visit the still unknown artist who had so brilliantly disclosed his mastership. On his writing desk I found a few passages from his first lesson in counterpoint. A cursory glance disclosed the fact that, brief as it was, there were mistakes in every key. Gelinek’s utterances were thus verified. Feeling sure that my pupil was unfamiliar with the preliminary rules of counterpoint, I gave him the familiar textbook of Joseph Fux, “Gradus ad Parnassum,” and asked him to look at the exercises that followed. Joseph Haydn, who had returned to Vienna towards the end of the preceding year,[66]was intent on utilizing his muse in the composition of large masterworks, and thus laudably occupied could not well devote himself to the rules of grammar. I was now eagerly desirous to become the helper of the zealous student. But before beginning the instruction I made him understand that our coöperation would have to be kept secret. Inview of this I recommended that he copy every exercise which I corrected in order that Haydn should not recognize the handwriting of a stranger when the exercise was submitted to him. After a year, Beethoven and Gelinek had a falling out for a reason that has escaped me; both, it seemed to me, were at fault. As a result Gelinek got angry and betrayed my secret. Beethoven and his brothers made no secret of it longer.I began my honorable office with my good Louis in the beginning of August, 1792,[67]and filled it uninterruptedly until May, 1793,[67]by which time he finished double counterpoint in the octave and went to Eisenstadt. If His Royal Highness had sent his charge at once to Albrechtsberger his studies would never have been interrupted and he would have completed them.
In 1792, His Royal Highness Archduke Maximilian, Elector of Cologne, was pleased to send his charge Louis van Beethoven to Vienna to study musical composition with Haydn. Towards the end of July, Abbé Gelinek informed me that he had made the acquaintance of a young man who displayed extraordinary virtuosity on the pianoforte, such, indeed, as he had not observed since Mozart. In passing he said that Beethoven had been studying counterpoint with Haydn for more than six months and was still at work on the first exercise; also that His Excellency Baron van Swieten had earnestly recommended the study of counterpoint and frequently inquired of him how far he had advanced in his studies. As a result of these frequent incitations and the fact that he was still in the first stages of his instruction, Beethoven, eager to learn, became discontented and often gave expression to his dissatisfaction to his friend. Gelinek took the matter much to heart and came to me with the question whether I felt disposed to assist his friend in the study of counterpoint. I now desired to become better acquainted with Beethoven as soon as possible, and a day was fixed for me to meet him in Gelinek’s lodgings and hear him play on the pianoforte.
Beethoven’s Improvisations
Thus I saw the composer, now so famous, for the first time and heard him play. After the customary courtesies he offered to improvise on the pianoforte. He asked me to sit beside him. Having struck a few chords and tossed off a few figures as if they were of no significance, the creative genius gradually unveiled his profound psychological pictures. My ear was continually charmed by the beauty of the many and varied motives which he wove with wonderful clarity and loveliness into each other, and I surrendered my heart to the impressions made upon it while he gave himself wholly up to his creative imagination, and anon, leaving the field of mere tonal charm, boldly stormed the most distant keys in order to give expression to violent passions....
The first thing that I did the next day was to visit the still unknown artist who had so brilliantly disclosed his mastership. On his writing desk I found a few passages from his first lesson in counterpoint. A cursory glance disclosed the fact that, brief as it was, there were mistakes in every key. Gelinek’s utterances were thus verified. Feeling sure that my pupil was unfamiliar with the preliminary rules of counterpoint, I gave him the familiar textbook of Joseph Fux, “Gradus ad Parnassum,” and asked him to look at the exercises that followed. Joseph Haydn, who had returned to Vienna towards the end of the preceding year,[66]was intent on utilizing his muse in the composition of large masterworks, and thus laudably occupied could not well devote himself to the rules of grammar. I was now eagerly desirous to become the helper of the zealous student. But before beginning the instruction I made him understand that our coöperation would have to be kept secret. Inview of this I recommended that he copy every exercise which I corrected in order that Haydn should not recognize the handwriting of a stranger when the exercise was submitted to him. After a year, Beethoven and Gelinek had a falling out for a reason that has escaped me; both, it seemed to me, were at fault. As a result Gelinek got angry and betrayed my secret. Beethoven and his brothers made no secret of it longer.
I began my honorable office with my good Louis in the beginning of August, 1792,[67]and filled it uninterruptedly until May, 1793,[67]by which time he finished double counterpoint in the octave and went to Eisenstadt. If His Royal Highness had sent his charge at once to Albrechtsberger his studies would never have been interrupted and he would have completed them.
Here follows a passage, afterward stricken out by Schenk, in which he resents the statement that Beethoven had finished his studies with Albrechtsberger. This would have been advisable, but if it were true, Gelinek as well as Beethoven would have told him of the fact. “On the contrary, he admitted to me that he had gone to Herr Salieri, Royal Imperial Chapelmaster, for lessons in the free style of composition.” Then Schenk continues:
About the middle of May he told me that he would soon go with Haydn to Eisenstadt and stay there till the beginning of winter; he did not yet know the date of his departure. I went to him at the usual hour in the beginning of June but my good Louis was no longer to be seen. He left for me the following little billet which I copy word for word:“Dear Schenk!It was not my desire to set off to-day for Eisenstadt. I should like to have spoken with you again. Meanwhile rest assured of my gratitude for the favors shown me. I shall endeavor with all my might to requite them. I hope soon to see you again, and once more to enjoy the pleasure of your society. Farewell anddo not entirely forgetyourBeethoven.”It was my intention only briefly to touch upon my relations with Beethoven; but the circumstances under which, and the manner in which I became his guide in musical composition constrained me to be somewhat more explicit. For my efforts (if they can be called efforts) I was rewarded by my good Louis with a precious gift, viz.: a firm bond of friendship which lasted without fading till the day of his death.Written in the summer of 1830.
About the middle of May he told me that he would soon go with Haydn to Eisenstadt and stay there till the beginning of winter; he did not yet know the date of his departure. I went to him at the usual hour in the beginning of June but my good Louis was no longer to be seen. He left for me the following little billet which I copy word for word:
“Dear Schenk!It was not my desire to set off to-day for Eisenstadt. I should like to have spoken with you again. Meanwhile rest assured of my gratitude for the favors shown me. I shall endeavor with all my might to requite them. I hope soon to see you again, and once more to enjoy the pleasure of your society. Farewell anddo not entirely forgetyourBeethoven.”
“Dear Schenk!
It was not my desire to set off to-day for Eisenstadt. I should like to have spoken with you again. Meanwhile rest assured of my gratitude for the favors shown me. I shall endeavor with all my might to requite them. I hope soon to see you again, and once more to enjoy the pleasure of your society. Farewell and
do not entirely forgetyourBeethoven.”
It was my intention only briefly to touch upon my relations with Beethoven; but the circumstances under which, and the manner in which I became his guide in musical composition constrained me to be somewhat more explicit. For my efforts (if they can be called efforts) I was rewarded by my good Louis with a precious gift, viz.: a firm bond of friendship which lasted without fading till the day of his death.
Written in the summer of 1830.
A chronological difficulty is presented by Schenk’s story of the cessation of the instruction. There can be no doubt that it began towards the beginning of August, 1793, as confirmed by thedistinct utterance of Schenk (who errs in the year, however), particularly by the statement that the study with Haydn had already endured six months. Schenk’s instruction is said to have lasted till the end of May, 1794, and the definitive mention of the month makes an error improbable. But at this time Haydn was already long in England, while Schenk’s narrative represents Beethoven as saying that he intended going to Eisenstadt with Haydn; moreover, Beethoven was already Albrechtsberger’s pupil and as such was no longer in need of secret help. Nevertheless, the continuance of the relations with Schenk is easily possible and they were not likely to be interrupted so long as Beethoven remained in Vienna; this is indicated by the reference to double counterpoint, which Beethoven did not study under Haydn but with Albrechtsberger; also Schenk’s intimation that if the Elector had sent his charge “at once” to Albrechtsberger shows that instruction with the latter had already begun. The letter to Schenk, though cast in friendly terms, can nevertheless be interpreted as a declination of further services, a breaking off of the relationship between teacher and pupil, for which the journey to Eisenstadt was a welcome excuse. But we learn only from Schenk that Beethoven was to make the journey with Haydn, and he may have been mistaken in this as he was in the year. It is very conceivable that Beethoven had received an invitation to visit him from Prince Esterhazy, who must surely have got acquainted with him in Vienna. He who is unwilling to accept this, must place the letter and the journey in the last months of 1793, which is in every respect improbable.
Beethoven’s Relations with Haydn
The relations between Haydn and his pupil did not long continue truly cordial; yet Beethoven concealed his dissatisfaction and no break occurred. Thoughtless and reckless of consequences, as he often in later years unfortunately exhibited himself when indulging his wilfulness, he was at this time responsible to the Elector for his conduct, and Haydn, moreover, was too valuable and influential a friend to be wantonly alienated. So, whatever feelings he cherished in secret, he kept them to himself, went regularly to his lessons and, as noted above, occasionally treated his master to chocolate or coffee. It was, of course, Haydn who took the young man to Eisenstadt, and, as Neefe tells us, he wished to take him to England. Why was that plan not carried out? Did Maximilian forbid it? Would Beethoven’s pride not allow him to go thither as Haydn’s pupil? Did zeal for his contrapuntal studies prevent it? Or had his relations to the Austrian nobility already become such as offered him higher hopes of success inVienna than Haydn could propose in London? Or, finally, was it his ambition rather to make himself known as Beethoven the composer than as Beethoven the pianoforte virtuoso? Pecuniary reasons are insufficient to account for the failure of the plan; for Haydn, who now knew the London public, could easily have removed all difficulty on that score. Neefe’s letter was written near the end of September, 1793, when already “a number of reports” had reached Bonn “that Beethoven had made great progress in his art.” These “reports,” we know from Fischenich, came in part from Haydn himself. Add to that the wish to take his pupil with him to England—which was certainly the highest compliment he could possibly have paid him—and the utter groundlessness of Beethoven’s suspicions that Haydn “was not well-minded towards him,” as Ries says in his “Notizen” (page 85), is apparent. Yet these suspicions, added to the reasons above suggested, sufficiently explain the departure of the master for London without the company of his pupil, who now (January, 1794) was transferred to Albrechtsberger.
In the pretty extensive notes copied from the memorandum book already so much cited, there are but two which can with any degree of certainty be referred to a date later than 1793. One of them is this:
Schuppanzigh, 3 times a W. (Week?)Albrechtsberger, 3 times a W. (Week?)
The necessary inference from this is that Beethoven began the year 1794 with three lessons a week in violin-playing from Schuppanzigh (unless the youth of the latter should forbid such an inference) and three in counterpoint from the most famous teacher of that science. Seyfried affirms that the studies with the latter continued “two complete years with tireless persistency.” The coming narrative will show that other things took up much of Beethoven’s attention in 1795, and that before the close of that year, if not already at its beginning, his course with Albrechtsberger ended.[68]
Studies with Albrechtsberger
The instruction which Beethoven received from Albrechtsberger (and which was based chiefly on the master’s “Anweisung zur Komposition”) began again with simple counterpoint, in which Beethoven now received more detailed directions than had been given by Haydn. Albrechtsberger wrote down rules for him,Beethoven did the same and worked out a large number of exercises on two plain-song melodies which Albrechtsberger then corrected according to the rules of strict writing. There followed contrapuntal exercises in free writing, in imitation, in two-, three- and four-part fugue, choral fugue, double counterpoint in the different intervals, double fugue, triple counterpoint and canon. The last was short, as here the instruction ceased. Beethoven worked frequently in the immediate presence and with the direct coöperation of Albrechtsberger. The latter labored with obvious conscientiousness and care, and was ever ready to aid his pupil. If he appears at times to have been given over to minute detail and conventional method, it must be borne in mind that rigid schooling in fixed rules is essential to the development of an independent artist, even if he makes no use of them, and that it is only in this manner that freedom in workmanship can be achieved. Of this the youthful Beethoven was aware and every line of his exercises bears witness that he entered into his studies with complete interest and undivided zeal.[69]This was particularly the case in his exercises in counterpoint and imitation, where he strove to avoid errors, and their beneficial results are plainly noticeable in his compositions. Several of the compositions written after the lessons, disclose how “he was led from a predominantly figurative to a more contrapuntal manner of writing.” There is less of this observable in the case of fugue, in which the instruction itself was not free from deficiencies; and the pupil worked more carelessly. The restrictive rules occasionally put him out of conceit with his work; “he was at the age in which, as a rule, suggestion and incitation are preferred to instruction,” and his stubborn nature played an important rôle in the premises. However, it ought to be added that he was also at an age when his genial aptness in invention and construction had already found exercise in other directions. Even though he did not receive thorough education in fugue from Albrechtsberger, he nevertheless learned the constituent elements of the form and how to apply them. Moreover, in his later years he made all these things the subjects of earnest and devoted study independent of others; and in the compositions of his later years he returned with special and manifest predilection to the fugued style. Nothing could be more incorrect than to emphasize Beethoven’s lack of theoretical education. If, while studying with Albrechtsberger, but more particularly in his independent compositions, Beethoven ignored manyof the strict rules, it was not because he was not able to apply them, but because he purposely set them aside. Places can be found in his exercises in which the rules are violated; but the testimony of the ear acquits the pupil. Rules are not the objects of themselves, they do not exist for their own sake, and in despite of all artistic systems; it is the reserved privilege of the evolution of art-means and prescient, forward genius to point out what in them is of permanent value, and what must be looked upon as antiquated. Nature designed that Beethoven should employ music in the depiction of soul-states, to emancipate melody and express his impulses in the free forms developed by Ph. Em. Bach, Mozart, Haydn and their contemporaries. In this direction he had already disclosed himself as a doughty warrior before the instruction in Vienna had its beginning, and it is very explicable that to be hemmed in by rigid rules was frequently disagreeable to him. He gradually wearied of “creating musical skeletons.” But all the more worthy of recognition, yea, of admiration, is the fact that the young composer who had already mounted so high, should by abnegation of his creative powers surrender himself to the tyranny of the rules and find satisfaction in conscientious practice of them.
Nottebohm summed up his conclusions from the investigations which he made of Beethoven’s posthumous papers thus: prefacing that, after 1785, Beethoven more and more made the manner of Mozart his own, he continues:
What Beethoven Learned
The instruction which he received from Haydn and Albrechtsberger enriched him with new forms and media of expression and these effected a change in his mode of writing. The voices acquired greater melodic flow and independence. A certain opacity took the place of the former transparency in the musical fabric. Out of a homophonic polyphony of two or more voices, there grew a polyphony that was real. The earlier obbligato accompaniment gave way to an obbligato style of writing which rested to a greater extent on counterpoint. Beethoven has accepted the principle of polyphony; his part-writing has become purer and it is noteworthy that the compositions written immediately after the lessons are among the purest that Beethoven ever composed. True, the Mozart model still shines through the fabric, but we seek it less in the art of figuration than in the form and other things which are only indirectly associated with the obbligato style. Similarly, we can speak of other influences—that of Joseph Haydn, for instance. This influence is not contrapuntal. Beethoven built upon his acquired and inherited possessions. He assimilated the traditional forms and means of expression, gradually eliminated foreign influences and, following the pressure of his subjective nature with its inclination towards the ideal, he created his own individual style.
The instruction which he received from Haydn and Albrechtsberger enriched him with new forms and media of expression and these effected a change in his mode of writing. The voices acquired greater melodic flow and independence. A certain opacity took the place of the former transparency in the musical fabric. Out of a homophonic polyphony of two or more voices, there grew a polyphony that was real. The earlier obbligato accompaniment gave way to an obbligato style of writing which rested to a greater extent on counterpoint. Beethoven has accepted the principle of polyphony; his part-writing has become purer and it is noteworthy that the compositions written immediately after the lessons are among the purest that Beethoven ever composed. True, the Mozart model still shines through the fabric, but we seek it less in the art of figuration than in the form and other things which are only indirectly associated with the obbligato style. Similarly, we can speak of other influences—that of Joseph Haydn, for instance. This influence is not contrapuntal. Beethoven built upon his acquired and inherited possessions. He assimilated the traditional forms and means of expression, gradually eliminated foreign influences and, following the pressure of his subjective nature with its inclination towards the ideal, he created his own individual style.
As is known, Seyfried in his book entitled “Ludwig van Beethoven’s Studien im Generalbasse,” which appeared in 1832, gathered together all that was to be found in the way of exercises, excerpts from textbooks, etc., in Beethoven’s posthumous papers and presented them in so confused and arbitrary a manner that only the keenness and patience of a Nottebohm could point the way through the maze; Seyfried would have us believe that the entire contents of his book belonged to the studies under Albrechtsberger.
It will require no waste of words, says Nottebohm (p. 198), to prove the incompatibility of such a claim with the results of our investigations. As a matter of fact, only the smallest portion of the “Studies” can be traced back to the instruction which Beethoven received from Albrechtsberger. The greater part had nothing to do with this instruction and, aside from the changes made, belongs to the other labors. In the smaller portion Seyfried made things as easy for himself as possible. Of Beethoven’s exercises he took only such as he found cleanly copied or legibly written, and omitted those which were difficult to decipher because of many corrections. This is the explanation of the fact that Seyfried did not include a single exercise in strict simple counterpoint. If all the passages bearing on the course followed under Albrechtsberger were brought together and all the errors made in the presentation overlooked, we should still have but a fragmentary and faulty reflection of that study. Neither need we enter upon a discussion of the marginal notes attributed to Beethoven which so plentifully besprinkle Seyfried’s book. The fact is that in all the manuscripts which belong to the studies under Albrechtsberger not one of the “sarcastically thrown out” marginal notes is to be found. The glosses which do appear as Beethoven’s ... are of a wholly different character from those printed by Seyfried. They show that Beethoven was deeply immersed and interested in the matter. It would, indeed, be inexplicable what could have persuaded Beethoven to continue study with a teacher with whom, as Seyfried would have us believe, he was in conflict already at the beginning of simple counterpoint. He had it in his power to discontinue his studies at any moment.
It will require no waste of words, says Nottebohm (p. 198), to prove the incompatibility of such a claim with the results of our investigations. As a matter of fact, only the smallest portion of the “Studies” can be traced back to the instruction which Beethoven received from Albrechtsberger. The greater part had nothing to do with this instruction and, aside from the changes made, belongs to the other labors. In the smaller portion Seyfried made things as easy for himself as possible. Of Beethoven’s exercises he took only such as he found cleanly copied or legibly written, and omitted those which were difficult to decipher because of many corrections. This is the explanation of the fact that Seyfried did not include a single exercise in strict simple counterpoint. If all the passages bearing on the course followed under Albrechtsberger were brought together and all the errors made in the presentation overlooked, we should still have but a fragmentary and faulty reflection of that study. Neither need we enter upon a discussion of the marginal notes attributed to Beethoven which so plentifully besprinkle Seyfried’s book. The fact is that in all the manuscripts which belong to the studies under Albrechtsberger not one of the “sarcastically thrown out” marginal notes is to be found. The glosses which do appear as Beethoven’s ... are of a wholly different character from those printed by Seyfried. They show that Beethoven was deeply immersed and interested in the matter. It would, indeed, be inexplicable what could have persuaded Beethoven to continue study with a teacher with whom, as Seyfried would have us believe, he was in conflict already at the beginning of simple counterpoint. He had it in his power to discontinue his studies at any moment.
A doubt has been hinted above whether Beethoven’s studies under Albrechtsberger were continued beyond the beginning of the year 1795. If all these exercises in counterpoint, fugue and canon, and all those excerpts from Fux, C. P. E. Bach, Türk, Albrechtsberger, and Kirnberger, which Seyfried made the basis of his “Studien”—and mingled in a confusion inextricable by any one possessing less learning, patience, sagacity and perseverance than Nottebohm—had already belonged to the period of his pupilage, their quantity alone, taken in connection with the writer’s other occupations, would indeed preclude such a doubt; but knowing that perhaps the greater portion of those manuscripts belongs to a period many years later, and considering the greatfacility in writing which Beethoven had already acquired before coming to Vienna, there seems to be no indication of any course of study which might not easily be completed during the one year with Haydn (and Schenk) and one year with Albrechtsberger. Schönfeld, in the “Jahrbuch der Tonkunst für Wien und Prag,” supposes that Beethoven was still the pupil of the latter at the time when he wrote, which was in the spring of 1795. His words are: “An eloquent proof of his [Beethoven’s] real love of art is the circumstance that he has placed himself in the hands of our immortal Haydn, in order to be initiated into the sacred mysteries of composition. This great master has, in his absence, turned him over to our great Albrechtsberger.” There is nothing decisive in this; and yet it is all that appears to confirm the “two years” of Seyfried; while on the other hand Wegeler, who, during all the year 1795, was much with Beethoven, has nowhere in his “Notizen” any allusion whatever to his friend as being still a student under a master.
Referring to the number of pages (160) of exercises and the three lessons a week, Nottebohm calculates the period of instruction to have been about fifteen months. Inasmuch as among the exercises in double counterpoint in the tenth there is found a sketch belonging to the second movement of the Trio, Op. 1, No. 2, which Trio was advertised as finished on May 9th, 1795, it follows that the study was at or near its end at that date. The conclusion of his instruction from Albrechtsberger may therefore be set down at between March and May, 1795.
Instruction From Salieri
The third of Beethoven’s teachers in Vienna was the Imperial Chapelmaster Anton Salieri; but this instruction was neither systematic nor confined to regular hours. Beethoven took advantage of Salieri’s willingness “to give gratuitous instruction to musicians of small means.” He wanted advice in vocal composition, and submitted to Salieri some settings of Italian songs which the latter corrected in respect of verbal accent and expression, rhythm, metrical articulation, subdivision of thought, mood, singableness, and the conduct of the melody which comprehended all these things. Having himself taken the initiative in this, Beethoven devoted himself earnestly and industriously to these exercises, and they were notably profitable in his creative work. “Thereafter [also in his German songs] he treated the text with much greater care than before in respect of its prosodic structure, as also of its contents and the prescribed situation,” and acquired a good method of declamation. That Salieri’s influence extended beyond the period in which Beethoven’s style developed itselfindependently cannot be asserted, since many other and varied influences made themselves felt later.
This instruction began soon after Beethoven’s arrival in Vienna and lasted in an unconstrained manner at least until 1802; at even a later date he asked counsel of Salieri in the composition of songs, particularly Italian songs. According to an anecdote related by Czerny, at one of these meetings for instruction Salieri found fault with a melody as not being appropriate to the air. The next day he said to Beethoven: “I can’t get your melody out of my head.” “Then, Herr von Salieri,” replied Beethoven, “it cannot have been so utterly bad.” The story may be placed in the early period; but it appears from a statement by Moscheles that Beethoven still maintained an association with Salieri in 1809. Moscheles, who was in Vienna at this time, found a note on Salieri’s table which read: “The pupil Beethoven was here!”
Ries, speaking of the relations between Haydn, Albrechtsberger and Salieri as teachers and Beethoven as pupil, says: “I knew them all well; all three valued Beethoven highly, but were also of one mind touching his habits of study. All of them said Beethoven was so headstrong and self-sufficient (selbstwollend) that he had to learn much through harsh experience which he had refused to accept when it was presented to him as a subject of study.” Particularly Albrechtsberger and Salieri were of this opinion; “the dry rules of the former and the comparatively unimportant ones of the latter concerning dramatic composition (according to the Italian school of the period) could not appeal to Beethoven.” It is now known that the “dry rules” of Albrechtsberger could make a strong appeal to Beethoven as appertaining to theoretical study, and that the old method of composition to which he remained true all his life always had a singular charm for him as a subject of study and investigation.
Here, as in many other cases, the simple statement of the difficulties suggests their explanation. Beethoven the pupil may have honestly and conscientiously followed the precepts of his instructors in whatever he wrote in that character; but Beethoven the composer stood upon his own territory, followed his own tastes and impulses, wrote and wrought subject to no other control. He paid Albrechtsberger to teach him counterpoint—not to be the censor and critic of his compositions. And Ries’s memory may well have deceived him as to the actual scope of the strictures made by the old master, and have transferred to the pupil what, fully thirty years before, had been spoken of the composer.
As has been mentioned, Beethoven’s relations with Salieri at a later date were still pleasant; the composer dedicated to the chapelmaster the three violin sonatas, Op. 12, which appeared in 1799. Nothing is known of a dedication to Albrechtsberger. According to an anecdote related by Albrechtsberger’s grandson Hirsch, Beethoven called him a “musical pedant”; yet we may see a remnant of gratitude toward his old teacher in Beethoven’s readiness to take an interest in his young grandson.
We have now to turn our attention to Beethoven’s relations to Viennese society outside of his study.
Music in Vienna in 1793—Theatre, Church and Concert-Room—A Music-Loving Nobility—The Esterhazys, Kinsky, Lichnowsky, von Kees and van Swieten—Composers: Haydn, Kozeluch, Förster and Eberl.
Music in Vienna in 1793—Theatre, Church and Concert-Room—A Music-Loving Nobility—The Esterhazys, Kinsky, Lichnowsky, von Kees and van Swieten—Composers: Haydn, Kozeluch, Förster and Eberl.
Opera and Concerts in Vienna
The musical drama naturally took the first place in the musical life of Vienna at this period. The enthusiasm of Joseph II for a national German opera, to which the world owed Mozart’s exquisite “Entführung,” proved to be but short-lived, and the Italianopera buffaresumed its old place in his affections. The new company engaged was, however, equal to the performance of “Don Giovanni” and “Figaro” and Salieri’s magnificent “Axur.” Leopold II reached Vienna on the evening of March 13, 1790, to assume the crown of his deceased brother, but no change was, for the present, made in the court theatre. Indeed, as late as July 5 he had not entered a theatre, and his first appearance at the opera was at the performance of “Axur,” September 21, in the company of his visitor King Ferdinand of Naples; but once firmly settled on the imperial throne, Joseph’s numerous reforms successfully annulled, the Turkish war brought to a close and his diverse coronations happily ended, the Emperor gave his thoughts to the theatre. Salieri, though now but forty-one years of age, and rich with the observation and experience of more than twenty years in the direction of the opera, was, according to Mosel, graciously allowed, but according to other and better authorities, compelled, to withdraw from the operatic orchestra and confine himself to his duties as director of the sacred music in the court chapel and to the composition of one operatic work annually, if required. The “Wiener Zeitung” of January 28, 1792, records the appointment of Joseph Weigl, Salieri’s pupil and assistant, now twenty-five years old, “as Chapelmaster and Composer to the Royal Imperial National Court Theatre with a salary of 1,000 florins.” The title Composer was rather an empty one. Though already favorably known to the public, he was forbidden to compose newoperas for the court stage. To this end famous masters were to be invited to Vienna. A first fruit of this new order of things was the production of Cimarosa’s “Il Matrimonio segreto,” February 7, 1792, which with good reason so delighted Leopold that he gave the performers a supper and ordered them back into the theatre and heard the opera againda capo. It was among the last of the Emperor’s theatrical pleasures; he died March 1st, and his wife on the 15th of May following. Thus for the greater part of the time from March 1 to May 24, the court theatres were shut; and yet during the thirteen months ending December 15, 1792, Italian opera had been given 180 times—134 times in the Burg and 46 times in the Kärnthnerthor-Theater—and ballet 163 times; so that, as no change for the present was made, there was abundance in these branches of the art for a young composer, like Beethoven, to hear and see. All accounts agree that the company then performing was one of uncommon excellence and its performances, with those of the superb orchestra, proved the value of the long experience, exquisite taste, unflagging zeal and profound knowledge of their recent head, Salieri. Such as Beethoven found the opera in the first week of November, 1792, such it continued for the next two years—exclusively Italian, but of the first order.
A single stroke of extraordinary good fortune—a happy accident is perhaps a better term—had just now given such prosperity to a minor theatrical enterprise that in ten years it was to erect and occupy the best playhouse in Vienna and, for a time, to surpass the Court Theatre in the excellence and splendor of its operatic performances. We mean Schikaneder’s Theater auf der Wieden; but in 1793 its company was mean, its house small, its performances bad enough.
Schikaneder’s chapelmaster and composer was John Baptist Henneberg; the chapelmaster of Marinelli, head of another German company in the Leopoldstadt, was Wenzel Müller, who had already begun his long list of 227 light and popular compositions to texts magical or farcical. Some two weeks after Beethoven’s arrival in Vienna, on November 23rd, Schikaneder announced, falsely, the one-hundredth performance of “Die Zauberflöte,” an opera the success of which placed his theatre a few years later upon a totally different footing, and brought Beethoven into other relations to it than those of an ordinary visitor indulging his comical taste,testeSeyfried, for listening to and heartily enjoying very bad music.
The leading dramatic composers of Vienna, not yet named, must receive a passing notice. Besides Cimarosa, who left Viennaa few months later, Beethoven found Peter Dutillieu, a Frenchman by birth but an Italian musician by education and profession, engaged as composer for the Court Theatre. His “Il Trionfo d’Amore” had been produced there November 14, 1791, and his “Nanerina e Padolfino” had lately come upon the stage. Ignaz Umlauf, composer of “Die schöne Schusterin” and other not unpopular works, had the title of Chapelmaster and Composer to the German Court Opera, and was Salieri’s substitute as chapelmaster in the sacred music of the Court Chapel. Franz Xavier Süssmayr, so well known from his connection with Mozart, was just now writing for Schikaneder’s stage; Schenk for Marinelli’s and for the private stages of the nobility; and Paul Wranitzky, first violinist and so-called Musikdirektor in the Court Theatre, author of the then popular “Oberon” composed for the Wieden stage, was employing his very respectable talents for both Marinelli and Schikaneder.
The church music of Vienna seems to have been at a very low point in 1792 and 1793. Two composers, however, whose names are still of importance in musical history, were then in that city devoting themselves almost exclusively to this branch of the art; Albrechtsberger, Court Organist, but in a few months (through the death of Leopold Hoffmann, March 17, 1793) to become musical director at St. Stephen’s; and Joseph Eybler (some five years older than Beethoven), who had just becomeRegens choriin the Carmelite church, whence he was called to a similar and better position in the Schottische Kirche two years later.
Public concerts, as the term is now understood, may be said not to have existed, and regular subscription concerts were few. Mozart gave a few series of them, but after his death there appears to have been no one of sufficient note in the musical world to make such a speculation remunerative. Single subscription concerts given by virtuosos, and annual ones by some of the leading resident musicians, of course, took place then as before and since. The only real and regular concerts were the four annual performances in the Burgtheater, two at Christmas and two at Easter, for the benefit of the musicians’ widows and orphans. These concerts, established mainly by Gassmann and Salieri, were never exclusive in their programmes—oratorio, symphony, cantata, concerto, whatever would add to their attraction, found place. The stage was covered with the best musicians and vocalists of the capital and the superb orchestra was equally ready to accompany the playing of a Mozart or of an ephemeralWunderkind. Risbeck was told ten years before that the number taking part in orchestraand chorus had even then on some occasions reached 400—a statement, however, which looks much like exaggeration.
Very uncommon semi-private concerts were still kept up in 1793. The reader of Mozart’s biography will remember that in 1782 this great composer joined a certain Martin in giving a series of concerts during the morning hours in the Augarten Hall, most of the performers being dilettanti and the music being furnished from the library of von Kees. These concerts found such favor that they were renewed for several years and generally were twelve in number.
Ladies of even the highest nobility permitted themselves to be heard. The auditorium was extremely brilliant and everything was conducted in so orderly and decent a fashion that everybody was glad to support the institute to the best of his energies. The receipts from the chief subscription were expended entirely on the cost of the concerts. Later Herr Rudolph assumed the direction. (“Allg. Mus. Zeitung,” III, 45.)
Ladies of even the highest nobility permitted themselves to be heard. The auditorium was extremely brilliant and everything was conducted in so orderly and decent a fashion that everybody was glad to support the institute to the best of his energies. The receipts from the chief subscription were expended entirely on the cost of the concerts. Later Herr Rudolph assumed the direction. (“Allg. Mus. Zeitung,” III, 45.)
This man, still young, and a fine violin-player, was the director when Beethoven came to Vienna, and the extraordinary spectacle was still to be seen of princes and nobles following his lead in the performance of orchestral music to an audience of their own class at the strange hours of from 6 to 8 in the morning!
From the above it appears that Vienna presented to the young musician no preëminent advantages either in opera, church-music or its public concerts. Other cities equalled the Austrian capital in the first two, and London was then far in advance of all in the number, variety and magnificence of the last. It was in another field that Vienna surpassed every competitor. As Gluck twenty years before had begun the great revolution in operatic music completed by Mozart, so Haydn, building on the foundation of the Bachs and aided by Mozart, was effecting a new development of purely instrumental music which was yet to reach its highest stage through the genius and daring of the youth now his pupil. The example set by the Austrian family through so many generations had produced its natural effect, and a knowledge of and taste for music were universal among the princes and nobles of the empire. Some of the more wealthy princes, like Esterhazy, maintained musical establishments complete even to the Italian opera; others were contented with hearing the mass sung in their house-chapel to an orchestral accompaniment; where this was impossible, a small orchestra only was kept up, often composed of the officials and servants, who were selected with regard to their musical abilities; and so down to the band of wind-instruments, the string quartet, and even to a single organ-player,pianist or violinist. What has been said in a former chapter of music as a quasi-necessity at the courts of the ecclesiastical princes, applies in great measure to the secular nobility. At their castles and country-seats in the summer, amusement was to be provided for many an otherwise tedious hour; and in their city residences during the winter they and their guests could not always feast, dance or play at cards; and here, too, music became a common and favored recreation. At all events, it was the fashion. Outside the ranks of the noble-born, such as by talents, high culture or wealth occupied high social positions, followed the example and opened their salons to musicians and lovers of music, moved thereto for the most part by a real, rarely by a pretended, taste for the art—in either case aiding and encouraging its progress. Hence, an enormous demand for chamber music, both vocal and instrumental, especially the latter. The demand created the supply by encouraging genius and talent to labor in that direction; and thus the Austrian school of instrumental music soon led the world, as in the previous generation the demand for oratorios in England gave that country the supremacy in that branch of art.
During certain months of the year, Vienna was filled with the greatest nobles, not only of the Austrian states, but of other portions of the German Empire. Those who spent their time mostly in their own small courts came up to the capital but for a short season; others reversed this, making the city their usual residence and visiting their estates only in summer. By the former class many a once (if not still) famous composer in their service was thus occasionally for short periods brought to the metropolis—as Mozart by the brutal Archbishop of Salzburg, and Haydn by Prince Esterhazy. By the latter class many of the distinguished composers and virtuosos resident in the city were taken into the country during the summer to be treated as equals, to live like gentlemen among gentlemen. Another mode of encouraging the art was the ordering or purchasing of compositions; and this not only from composers of established reputation, as Haydn, Mozart, C. P. E. Bach, but also from young and as yet unknown men; thus affording a twofold benefit—pecuniary aid and an opportunity of exhibiting their powers.
The instrumental virtuosos, when not permanently engaged in the service of some prince or theatre, looked in the main for the reward of their studies and labors to the private concerts of the nobility. If at the same time they were composers, it was in such concerts that they brought their productions to a hearing. The reader of Jahn’s biography of Mozart will remember how mucheven he depended upon this resource to gain the means of support for himself and family. Out of London, even so late as 1793, there can hardly be said to have existed a “musical public,” as the term is now understood, and in Vienna at least, with its 200,000 inhabitants, a virtuoso rarely ventured to announce a concert to which he had not already a subscription, sufficient to ensure him against loss, from those at whose residences he had successfully exhibited his skill. Beethoven, remaining “in Vienna without salary until recalled” by Max, found in these resources and his pupils an ample income.
But this topic requires something more than the above general remarks. Some twelve years previous to Beethoven’s coming to Vienna, Risbeck, speaking of the art in that capital, had written: