Books › Musical Courier 1928-12-13: Vol 97 Iss 24, 1928 › scan 39
Scan 39
Musical Courier 1928-12-13: Vol 97 Iss 24, 1928
81 lines. Read by computer on 29 September 2026. Printed page 40. See the scan on archive.org.
1PUTTING THE BEET INTO BEETHOVEN
3A newspaper called La Nation Belge, otherwise The Belgian Nation, has made the interesting discovery, which it has not hesitated to publish, that Beethoven was closely related to his grandfather.
5If this historical fact is discredited, I am afraid that the difficulty of proving that Beethoven was of Flemish extraction will be insuperable.
7A certain Mr. Van Aerle, librarian of the Conservatory of Malines, discovered that a Ludwig van Beethoven attended the schools of Malines in 1717. Being a man of more than ordinary penetration, he observed the family resemblance between the names of Ludwig van Beethoven who went to school in 1717 and Ludwig van Beethoven who was composing in 1817. A less sagacious man might not have observed the likeness. Said he to himself, said he:—"Eureka! Je l'ai trouvé! I have found it!"
9He searched the registers and discovered that the young Ludovicus,—Ludwig,—Louis,—was baptised on the fifth of January, 1712, a son of Michel van Beethoven and Marie Louise Strykers. He entered the Choral School at his birthplace, became deputy choirmaster to L. F. Colfs at Louvain in 1731, went to Liège to sing bass in 1732, and departed for Bonn in March, 1733, where he entered the service of the Elector.
11Mr. Van Aerle also discovered two summonses addressed to Cornelius van Beethoven, merchant at Bonn, and to Ludwig van Beethoven, musician of the court of the Elector, because Michel van Beethoven of Malines, the father of the two brothers, had gone bankrupt. These legal papers proved that the Beethovens of Bonn were sons of the Beethoven of Malines, which is in Flanders.
13The composer's great grandfather was Henry Adelard van Beethoven, tailor, whose wife was Catherine de Herdt. Henry the tailor was a son of William, wine merchant, whose father worked on the banks of the Escaut in the middle of the seventeenth century. This is the earliest discovered possessor of the plebeian and prosaic name of Beethoven, which, according to Mr. Van Aerle, means simply "of the cabbage garden."
15Never having dug very deeply into the etymological roots of garden produce, I consulted Skeat. He says that the English word, Beet, comes from the Latin, Beta, as used by Pliny. Consequently, I am unable to substitute beets for cabbages as genealogical trees of the Beethoven tribe. In fact, there are no beets in Beethoven. The real vegetables are cabbages.
17Having demonstrated to his own satisfaction that the well known composer and sonata expert was the descendant of a tenor, a church bass, a candle merchant, a wine dealer, a tailor, a cabbage gardener, Mr. Van Aerle maintains that the family of van Beethoven is of Flemish, and not Dutch, descent. Thanks, Mr. Van Aerle. It is always best in the long run to know the whole truth, sad though some of us may feel to learn that the aboriginal van Beethovens did not waddle through Dutch marshes, grow tulips, and feed on round, red cheeses.
19There is nothing so low as the lowlands in Beethoven. He sprang from a territory several feet higher than Holland and a few miles south of it. Malines is half way between Antwerp and Brussels. Imagine the Appassionata sonata written by a composer hailing from Rotterdam, for instance, which lies a hundred miles or so to the north of Malines!
21Fifty miles north of Rotterdam lies Leyden, a low, sea-level town, which was only good enough for a Rembrandt to be born in, but altogether unworthy to be the ancestral seat of the cabbage gardener composer family.
23Ludwig van Beethoven—the second, or third, or whatever number the composer happened to be—had pretty well lost the tang of his ancestors' vegetable blood by the time his father had purified himself in Rhine water—also in Rhine wine, so it is said.
25In 1771, Beethoven's genius, quitting its ante-natal sojourn amid the music of the spheres, arrived in a boy's head at Bonn—as the Scotch song says, "born under the bonny briar bush"—to the joy of at least one of his parents, though the neighbors may have remarked, "What! Another one?" Neighbors are in the habit of saying just such things. But they were wrong; for there never was another like him.
27And many of us, who understand only such local dialects as English, German, French, Italian, and so on, will not mind that van Beethoven means "of the cabbage garden" in the noble tongue of Flanders. C.
29IN MANCHESTER, ENGLAND
31In Manchester, England, the long celebrated Hallé Orchestra holds only one rehearsal for a symphony concert, whether the works to be played are standard or new. Recently, a visiting French conductor, Ansermet, allowed only the single customary rehearsal, refused to lead the Hallé organization in music by Honegger, Berners, and Stravinsky. Then the truth came out. One rehearsal, at a cost of $500 for players' pay and rent of hall, is all the Hallé Orchestra can afford. American orchestral musicians and American symphony audiences should offer up thanks in all humility and gratitude, for their own opportunities and advantages.
33SIEGFRIEDIAN PSYCHOLOGY
35Siegfried's methods seem a little crude today. He had to be anointed with a drop of dragon's blood before he could understand the chatter of his companions in the forest. No one has ever been foolish enough to explain why the burning fluid from Fafner's veins enabled that rural booby of a Siegfried to find a glimmer of intelligence in those feather-brain birds. We are told that it was so, and we must believe it, for if we doubt those Nibelungen myths the whole scheme of Wagnerian drama falls to the ground. We trust the account which Wagner has left us—of course it is true.
37We are compelled to smile, however, when we note what strides the science of psychology has made since Siegfried's day. We do a little mind reading in a small way, from time to time, and without the help of dragon's blood on our fingers. Perhaps Siegfried would have known what the lumbering and expiring Fafner was bellowing about even if he had not soiled his fingers with the dragon's ruby lye. We know perfectly well what many musical artists mean when they tell us something else. Perhaps we may have been splashed unwittingly with a drop or two of blood from the green-eyed monster whom zoological classification labels Jealousy.
39Last week, for instance, we heard a German soprano of considerable eminence say that she could not learn to like Parisian audiences, because they were so cold and unsympathetic. "I do so love the English," said she; "for they are so full of enthusiasm. They call out the names of the songs they wish for and they are great lovers of good music." Did we believe that Parisians are cold and Londoners are warm? Not a bit of it. The soprano was telling us that she was a failure in Paris.
41At a recital by Heifetz, a violinist in the audience told us that Heifetz was nothing but a technician without any soul for music. We immediately divined that the critical violinist knew that he himself was very much inferior as a technician to Heifetz. He was compelled to rely on "expression, sentiment, soul," because he had nothing else which he could call his own. And we have frequently noted that artists who have not worked long enough and correctly enough to acquire a technic, are not very convincing as interpreters. Freedom of expression belongs only to him who has a technic good enough to allow him to be free.
43Another lesser light among the fiddlers told us once upon a time that he would enjoy Elman better if Elman would only stand still while he played and not pretend that he was drawing the very insides out of his violin. We knew at once that Elman's gloriously rich and sympathetic tone dismayed the violinist who found fault with Elman's movements.
45A pianist whom we have known for many years is always singing about the Better Land—metaphorically speaking; that is to say, he always tells how much better he is appreciated in all other cities than the city he happens to be playing in. "What do these Frenchmen know about piano playing? You should have heard the fuss they made about my playing of the Appassionata in Berlin." That invisible drop of the green-eyed monster's blood on our fingers enabled us to gather from the twitter of the bird of passage that he was disappointed because he could not fill his concert hall fourteen times running with Chopin recitals, as Brailowsky filled it! chagrinned that he dare not announce his recitals in the Grand Opera House, like Godowsky, or in the large theater of the Champs Elysées, like Paderewski.
47We recall a gentle little gentleman who was so overburdened with maidenly modesty that he confessed to us he was too nervous and shy to continue his remarkably brilliant concert career. Our psychological acumen revealed to us that it was the public which was nervous and shy about attending his recitals. How many times have little pianists pointed out to us the failings of Rosenthal, little knowing that they were but describing their own weaknesses which they saw by reflection when they looked into the mirror of Rosenthal's perfection. Students of psychology know that it is a common practice of the mind to hide its own defects from itself by fastening them onto some one else.
49Far be it from us to suggest that Siegfried was guilty of any such practice! We dragged him into our narrative, partly to show our knowledge of Wagnerian mythology, and partly to illustrate the superiority of our psychological methods. The monstrous foe, Musical Ignorance, with which we wage implacable warfare is a much more serious foeman than the toad-snake Fafner whom Siegfried struck with an invincible sword called Nothung.
51Be it also distantly removed from us to say that one great artist is not justified in criticising another great artist. Anybody, in fact, has the right to criticise everybody. That is not the gravamen of our argument. We are concerned with the psychological aspect of the mind which hides what it really means behind a string of words which mean something else. Each artist, great as well as small, has certain characteristics of his own. He cannot agree with everything another artist does.
53ADVICE TO STUDENTS
55The American Academy of Teachers of Singing has issued a bulletin with the above title. This is one of the first official documents of the sort that has ever been issued since the beginning of vocal teaching. It is important, or at least it would be important if only young people could be persuaded to think with their brains and not with their emotions. The bulletin follows:
57The American Academy of Teachers of Singing is often asked questions regarding the possibilities of a career either in opera or concert, the conditions of study, the amount of preparation needed, the cost in time and money, etc. In response, the Academy has prepared an "Avoid and Remember" list that we wish to bring to the attention of both teachers and students.
59Nobody should undertake a professional career in singing unless the call to do so is imperative and irresistible. Many students come to New York without such a call, unprepared in one way or another, or in all ways, to meet the requirements and difficulties of its life. Much waste of time, money and health would be avoided if aspirants and their parents or backers would realize that the road to success is long and arduous, and only achieved by those of exceptional gifts and staying power.
61The whole future of a singer may be ruined by incorrect teaching in the beginning; therefore choose your teacher with as much care as you would your doctor.
62Avoid teachers who make extravagant promises and beguile by flattery.
63Avoid teachers who advertise as "the greatest living authority."
64Avoid teachers who claim the discovery of new and wonderful methods.
65Avoid teachers who promise results in a short or specified time. Voice is a physical development in which muscles are trained to coordinate. This takes time and varies with each individual.
66Avoid teachers who claim to teach the method of some well-known artist with whom they have never studied, or possibly only for a short period.
67Avoid teachers who offer a few tricks as a "cure-all" for vocal ills. They should be shunned as one shuns a quack or patent-medicine.
68Avoid "correspondence" teachers. Teaching requires personal contact, close observation and constant reiteration.
69Remember that a beautiful, natural voice is no more valuable to its possessor than a beautiful violin or piano; it is just as difficult to master one as the other.
70Remember that a thorough musical foundation, languages and general culture are indispensable.
71Remember that intelligence, diligence, vigorous health, and in addition to these, financial resources are necessary for the student.
72Remember that every singer should be prepared to study for at least four years. (This does not exclude the possibility of earning money by your voice within this period.)
73Remember that an operatic career is one of enormous difficulty, in which few achieve success.
74All of the above recommendations are to assist, not to discourage you.
76GUSTAV HINRICHS
78Typographical errors are always annoying—sometimes they are just foolish, as was the misspelling of the name of the noted director of opera, and American pioneer, Gustav Hinrichs (not Hinrich, as the note on page 30 of our issue of November 29 had it). Hinrichs is well enough known for the misspelling of his name not to matter, and that only makes it all the more foolish.
80The really surprising thing, when one comes to think about it, is the fact that the name of this energetic and successful conductor and composer of opera was omitted from Hipsher's book on American opera, a fact that was brought to attention in the article here alluded to. How such a thing happened must always remain a mystery, for Hipsher's book is a complete statement of case, and it looks as if everything that could be said about American opera and its composers had been said. But not so! And even more remarkable is the fact that the eminent name of Edgar Stillman Kelley was also omitted. He, too, like Hinrichs, not only conducted but also wrote opera, and had the satisfaction of staging a work that was successful and had a long run. It was popular in vein and was called Puritania. Grove's Dictionary says that it was brought out in Boston "where it had a success that was denied to it in other cities," but we believe that Pauline Hall starred in it for a
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.