Books › The Strad; a monthly journal for professionals and amateurs of all stringed instruments played with the bow, 1890 › scan 28
Scan 28
The Strad; a monthly journal for professionals and amateurs of all stringed instruments played with the bow, 1890
18 lines. Read by computer on 3 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1striking likeness to a dearly loved son whom he had recently lost, that he became a most kind friend and patron, taking young Balfe to Italy with him, introducing him on the way to Cherubini at Paris, and finally placing him under the tuition of Frederici at Milan.
3Balfe was then only eighteen years of age. It was at Milan he made his maiden attempt at dramatic composition, and laid the foundation of his subsequent extraordinary career. His violin was now laid aside for the pen; but in spite of the success of his first piece, a ballet, he found himself compelled to again try his fortune as an operatic singer. To follow the ultimate career of the celebrated composer would occupy volumes in order to trace him step by step through his friendship with Cherubini and Rossini, his singing at the Italian Opera in Paris, his interesting career in Italy, Germany and England, etc. Balfe the violinist, now entirely made way for Balfe the singer. Rossini was so surprised at his singing of Figaro's great song in Il Barbiere that he induced Galois, the rich banker at Paris, to support him for one year whilst he went through an artistic training under the celebrated Bordogni, and then got him an engagement as baritone for three years at the Italian Opera in Paris, at the rate of £600 for the first year, £800 for the second and £1,000 for the third. He was then little over twenty years of age.
5Henceforth Balfe's career as an operatic singer was very successful, but his ardent ambition to succeed as a composer was as strong as ever. Henrietta Sontag and the charming and clever Madame Malibran (soon to be the wife of De Beriot) sang often in the same operas with him. Malibran was instrumental in helping him to bring out an opera in London and his Siege of Rochelle (October 29th, 1835) was a phenomenal success, which ran for seventy nights. The Maid of Artois was still more successful, bringing into the treasury £5,690 in the course of the first fortnight, a very considerable result in those days.
7The violin was by this time enclosed for ever in its box, never again to serve its former master whom it had thus aided up the steps of the ladder of fame. No! not never. One of his last violin exploits occurred at Pavia, where Signor Balfe was engaged to sing the part of Pharaoh in Rossini's Mosè in Egitto; but another part was unexpectedly assigned to him. The conductor's health failing at the time, Balfe was deputed to produce the opera. At rehearsal the violins had been remonstrated with on account of their careless execution of a certain passage, when the leader exclaimed indignantly that it was "no violin passage at all" "Not a violin passage!" retorted Balfe, "do you think Rossini did not know what he was about?" To which the leading violin impertinently rejoined:—"You come here and play it, and I will go on and sing for you." Whereupon Balfe snatched up a violin and played the passage so skilfully, that it elicited the unanimous applause of all present.
9The romantic career of Balfe and his wonderful success in London, Paris, Milan, Vienna, Berlin and St. Petersburg, form a most interesting study. His operas The Rose of Castille, The Bohemian Girl, The Maid of Artois, The Siege of Rochelle, Il Talismano, etc., form a lasting monument of talent, address, and never failing courage. In the early portion of the present century he was, doubtless, the most brilliant musical star that had ever arisen in the firmament of Great Britain, and his admirable character as a son, a husband and a father, quite as much as his musical genius, well deserves the fine statue which has been placed in the entrance hall of Drury Lane Theatre by the side of those of David Garrick, Edmund Kean, and William Shakespeare.
11HENRY HEYMAN, K.S.O.
13Our views on the subject of Californian civilization and culture being based on a long course of Bret Harte, were somewhat rudely shaken a short time since on the occasion of a visit paid us by Sir Henry Heyman, the San Francisco violinist. It was most remarkable; for one thing, he did not say "Wall, stranger?" nor did his diction exceed the force and picturesqueness usual to that of European polite society, and yet,—he was Californian by birth and residence! We felt that there was something wrong somewhere; and in the presence of this dignified and accomplished artist it was irresistibly borne in upon us that the fault lay with ourselves and that we—we—had proved our judgment fallible! However we soon recovered our usual equanimity under the effects of his charming personality and interesting conversation which is one continuous flow of reminiscences of all the great musicians, and their name is legion, with whom he has come in contact.
15Henry Heyman is a pupil of David, Röntgen, Friedrich Herman, Jadassohn and Reinecke, having studied the violin, together with general musical practice and theory, under those masters at the Leipzig Conservatoire. His very first experience in Leipzig was a Gewandhaus concert, the first concert he heard in Europe, at which Joachim played the Beethoven concerto and Madame Joachim sung the aria "Che faro" from Orpheus. Here David was pointed out to him, and, owing to the master's specially elevated position, he appeared of such gigantic stature that the young American went next day in fear and trembling to present his letters of introduction. He was, however, agreeably surprised to find that the great man was anything but the terrifying colossus he had appeared the preceding evening, was very amiable withal, and appointed a day for Heyman to visit the Conservatoire.
17Arriving early, our young student had an opportunity of hearing and criticising his future classmates as they were preparing for their lesson. When David entered he turned to the new-comer and, after a few general remarks said, "Na, spielen sie mir was vor" ("Come, play me something."). Heyman was not expecting this and had not brought his violin; however, he chose one from those offered him by the other students at random, for he confesses to having been considerably flurried, and selecting Kreutzer, No. 12 (!) played as well as he could under the circumstances. At the end David remarked "That
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