Scan 17
Musical Courier 1902-08-20: Vol 45 Iss 1169, 1902
42 lines. Read by computer on 22 September 2026. Printed page 18. See the scan on archive.org.
1wardly, for he always returned to the band in time for his next entry!
3During this cold winter Hans would curl up in bed to fight the cold and then read scores—which, as he said, have the advantage over books that one does not go to sleep over them. So he learned "Der Freischütz" by heart and conducted it successfully. He was then about twenty-one.
5All this time his mother has refused him all communication, but to the father he writes fully. The latter has a fear that the boy will be influenced politically by Wagner—in fact, Wagner's attitude political seems to have been much more important than some of his whitewashing biographers would have us believe.
7At the close of the winter von Bülow patches up peace with his mother and goes to Weimar to study piano with Liszt. He now lives at Liszt's house on the Altenburg, but the owner is away at Eilsen, where the Princess Wittgenstein lies ill. Raff is filling the temporary place as Hans' teacher, and the life at Weimar is much easier and more romantic for the pupil. He goes about a lot, is fascinated by the people there and returns home at nights after the house is closed; so he climbs "into the court yard over a tumble down wall to get into the house through a window, which I can open from the outside." He also admits extemporizing on the piano in the moonlight. Fancy that of the cynical Hans of later years!
9Liszt is to prepare him for the career of a virtuoso and Hans writes his father hopefully that "Liszt thinks the days of real virtuosity are not over, and he considers that I shall be capable of earning my livelihood by concert tours as his pupil and successor, for he himself has entirely given up public playing."
11Strange, is it not, how long ago the doom of virtuosity was pronounced? And even today the flashy form of art flourishes as virulently as ever.
13It was during this time that von Bülow began his work on the Leipziger Signale and the Neue Zeitschrift für die Musik. Liszt did not return to Weimar until the middle of October, and came on the scene suddenly during an opera performance, which was going badly enough. His presence was noticed in the house immediately, and as he was in a rage at the miserable work the musicians grew frantic and the thing almost came to smash.
15The following days are happy ones for Hans. He meets the Princess—"a woman of astonishing knowledge and such quick and penetrating intelligence"—and begins work under Liszt, devoting four or five hours a day to technic: "I crucify, like a good Christian, the flesh of my fingers, in order to make them obedient." Respecting his mother's wishes he continues the study of law and prepares for the degree. He also speaks modestly of some of his compositions to Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar," calling it unmusik. Liszt conducted this music later and it had a successful hearing. His public début as a pianist occurred at Weimar during these months, and Liszt seems not to have lost interest in the young man at any time—he even turns over to him such pupils as he cannot or will not teach.
17Out of these Weimar letters we get some idea of Liszt's unpopularity in this gossiping home of art. Much of this ill feeling spreads to von Bülow, who writes that he must discontinue some of his visits because the people are so violently antagonistic to Liszt. "Liszt's enemies here," he writes, "are like refuse by the sea; for he interests himself in other things besides piano playing—the Goethe-Stiftung, &c.—and that is a thorn in the people's side. They only allow him, in fact, the right to entertain them as a pianist, which he has given up once and for all."
19Liszt presents him with a cane which is a copy of his own, and von Bülow carries it with the same childish pleasure that he wore a cockade in '48. More anon.
21Le Ménestrel retails the remarkable story of a duel which once threatened Richard Wagner; the details are taken from the diary of a German journalist, the late Robert Byr. This is the tale: In 1846 Wagner was very intimate with the poet Henri Laube, who was a friend of Heine. Through the influence of Wagner, who was then kapellmeister in Dresden, a piece by Laube, "Les Elèves de l'académie Charles," was produced at the Dresden Theatre. It had a success, and after the performance Wagner gave a supper to Laube and some other friends. The company rose in praise of the poet—all save Wagner, who remained silent and showed signs of discontent. Finally, one of the orators referred to Laube as a "poète élu." This was too much for Richard, who called to his first wife: "Quick, Minna, an anodyne, else I shall faint!" The company was amazed, but Wagner arose and said, coolly: "Laube is one of my dearest friends, but he is far from possessing the genius of Schiller. Truth before all things." One of the guests tried to turn it off as a joke, but Wagner insisted that he was quite serious in his opinion. The supper concluded at 2 in the morning; Laube and a couple of friends walked the streets until 4 trying to calm themselves. Eventually it was decided that one of the friends was to call on Wagner at once with a challenge. Wagner was up at that hour and at work on the "Lohengrin" score. He listened to the challenge and replied: "I only hope that the brave Laube will give me time to finish my 'Lohengrin'; after the premiere I shall be at his disposal and we can shoot each other from behind cover at our ease. That child's play will even give me great pleasure." The witness retorted that this duel was a serious matter about which there was to be no jest, but Wagner, much amused, replied in his Saxon patois: "No, no, my children; such a duel would be a great folly and I do not wish it. Tell that to the great poet Laube as coming from the insignificant composer that I am." Laube never forgot the affair and to the end remained an enemy to Wagner.
23Its a good story—but!
25The Philadelphia Times printed the following Sunday school tale:
27"Former Judge Campbell, president of the Board of City Trusts, was walking up and down Chestnut street, between Broad and Juniper, one recent evening, awaiting the arrival of a friend, when his attention was attracted by the eccentric locomotion of a man coming through Juniper street from Market. He crawled along the wall of the old Mint for a few yards, and then plunged headlong across the street, bringing up with a jolt against an awning pole in front of Wanamaker's, and caroming against the westernmost window of that store. Then he zigzagged across Chestnut street, and, steadying himself against the boarded up entrance of the Garrick Theatre, asked the judge with a fine assumption of polite dignity:
29"'I—I beg par-pardon, sir; but [hic!—but couldsh you tell m-me if thish ish—if thish ish Cheshtnut street or—or ish it Wedneshtday?'"
31Here are two items of great technical interest:
33"Dr. S. A. Hageman has invented and constructed a piano which will render the diatonic scale in perfectly just intonation in all keys. The piano differs in outward appearance from the ordinary piano simply in the fact that there is, in addition to the usual pedals, a bank of a single octave of pedals somewhat like organ pedals. These pedals actuate a bank of sliding bars on the back of the piano, which in turn, move the bridges on which the piano strings rest and adjust them simultaneously to any key desired, by thus altering their effective lengths. The piano is tuned in the usual manner, to equal temperament, and may be played in equal temperament if so desired.
35"Dr. C. K. Wead has investigated various forms of four holed musical instruments found in museums that give a pentatonic scale. Various flutes and fretted stringed instruments also showed an equal linear division. His conclusion is that the primary principle of instruments capable of giving a scale is the repetition of elements similar to the eye; so that the instrument was the first thing, and the scale only secondary. Theoretical scales belong to a comparatively late stage of culture."
37A young lady from Little Falls asks for the name of a good history of music. I could easily refer her to Mr. Marling, of Scribner's, for he has at his finger tips the entire musical literature; but I prefer retailing some recent experiences of my own in the same quest.
39During the past month I had occasion to write some general articles about music. Now if there is anything I loathe it is a historical date. I usually go to Baker's Biographical Dictionary for my dates and forget Beethoven's birth year the moment I write it down. Therefore much reading of a varied character became necessary. Here is the list somewhat attenuated: "How to Listen to Music," Krehbiel; "Gluck and the Opera," Ernest Neuman; "The Opera," Streatfeild; "The Opera, Past and Present," Apthorp; "History of Music," Rockstro; "History of Music," Karl Groos—a profound investigation of the play impulse; "The Psychology of the Emotions," Th. Ribot; "Sound and Music," Zahm—a superb contribution to the theory of acoustics and music; "Music in the History of the Western Church," Dickinson—one of the most thorough and satisfying studies ever written; "Chopin and Other Essays," Finck; and three volumes by W. J. Henderson, respectively entitled "The Story of Music," "How Music Developed," "What Is Good Music." And I wish to say that if these three Henderson books are read and mastered there is little left to be studied on the subject. Comprehensive in scope, written in the purest English—because the clearest—these studies cover the entire field, aesthetic, historic and technic. If my correspondent reads them she will know all there is to know on the theme, and save much time, besides.
41I printed last week a second version—Mr. Finck's—of the thirsty 'cellist joke. There is still another version which Louis Blumenberg overheard on the board walk at Atlantic City the other day. It will keep until next week.
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