COMPOSERS AND PRACTICAL MEN.
It is sad to think how some of our distinguished musical composers have had to struggle with poverty, when with a proper attention to business matters they might easily have been men of independent means. True, to be what is called a practical man requires a talent very different from that required by an artist; and an inferior artist may be,—nay, often is a far more practical man than a superior artist. But a superior artist is not necessarily devoid of the qualifications which constitute a clever man of business. To maintain that a highly gifted musical composer must needs be deficient in common sense as regards money transactions would be as unwarrantable as to assert that a musician who understands how to use the art as a milch-cow must necessarily be a bad musician. His love for the art, and his desire to achieve something great, not unfrequently animates the true artist to disregard, or even to sacrifice for its sake, his property, health, and other advantages which the practical man regards as the real happiness of life.
Whatever the composer produces less as a labour of love than for gain, by command, according to a plan prescribed to him, and under similar circumstances, is generally not the best he is capable of accomplishing. An artist must be allowed to create unfettered the work with which he feels the greatest inclination to occupy himself. But, if he possesses no property, he may starve before his work is finished. There are some painful instances on record of starving musical composers, who, with their admirable talents, might have saved themselves and others much trouble, if only they had thought it worth their while to be a little more practical.
Composers generally receive their worst pay for their best works. Their best works are generally those which made them celebrated; and when they have become celebrated, they are often well paid for insignificant or mediocre productions.
Composers sometimes appear to be much more unpractical than they really are. This may, for instance, easily be the case with those who strike out a new path in the art, or who aim at a reform, the disirableness of which seems questionable to all but themselves. However, occasionally it happens that an innovation, which is at first unpopular, comes by some unexpected cause rather suddenly in vogue, or at least finds many advocates; and in this case the originator of the innovation, who was regarded as an unpractical man, may attain the reputation of being of a remarkably practical turn of mind. When Richard Wagner, about thirty years ago, as a poor and obscure musician in Paris, was arranging operatic melodies for the cornet-à-piston to save himself from starvation, his notions about the opera of the future appeared to those few musicians to whom he communicated them, as a dream which to realize would be as impossible as it would be undesirable. At the present day he has many estimable musicians among his ardent admirers; he is honoured by kings, leads the life of a prince, and probably there are but few persons who would deny that he deserves to be called a practical man.
Several of our classical composers have shown that they could be shrewd men of business at periods when the pressure of want, or the desire for independence, urgently incited them to acquire property. Beethoven on one or two occasions formed the resolution of making it his special object to accumulate a sum of money, the possession of which would enable him to compose without regard to publishers and mercantile speculations. But the endeavour to carry out this resolution seems to have been generally of but short duration. In the year 1821, the music-seller Tobias Haslinger, in Vienna, compiled a tariff in which he enumerated the different kinds of compositions with the prices he was willing to pay for them, if Beethoven by signing the tariff would bind himself to give all his new compositions to Haslinger for publication. This tariff is so interesting that it shall be inserted here, although Beethoven, who at first expected from it a golden future, was soon dissuaded by his friends from entering into any contract of the kind.
| Instrumental Music. | ||
| Symphony for full Orchestra | 60-80 | ducats. |
| Overture for full Orchestra | 20-30 | " |
| Concerto for Violin with Orchestral accompaniment | 50 | " |
| Octett for different instruments | 60 | " |
| Septett, ditto | 60 | " |
| Sextett, ditto | 60 | " |
| Quintett for 2 Violins, 2 Tenors, and Violoncello | 50 | " |
| Quartett for 2 Violins, 2 Tenors, and Violoncello | 40 | " |
| Trio for Violin, Tenor and Violoncello | 40 | " |
| For Pianoforte. | ||
| Concerto for Pianoforte with Orchestral accompaniment | 60 | " |
| Fantasia, ditto | 30 | " |
| Rondo, ditto | 30 | " |
| Variations, ditto | 30 | " |
| Octett for Pianoforte with accompaniment of other instruments | 50 | " |
| Septett, ditto | 50 | " |
| Quintett, ditto | 60 | " |
| Quartett, ditto | 70 | " |
| Trio for Pianoforte, Violin, and Violoncello | 50 | " |
| Duett for Pianoforte and Violin | 40 | " |
| Duett for Pianoforte and Violoncello | 40 | " |
| Duett for Pianoforte à quatre mains | 60 | " |
| Grand Sonata for Pianoforte alone | 40 | " |
| Sonata for Pianoforte alone | 30 | " |
| Fantasia for Pianoforte | 30 | " |
| Rondo for Pianoforte | 15 | " |
| Variations for Pianoforte with accompaniment | 10-20 | " |
| Variations for Pianoforte alone | 10-20 | " |
| Six Fugues for Pianoforte alone | 30-40 | " |
| Pieces, such as Divertimenti, Airs, Preludes, Potpourris, Bagatelles, Adagios, Andantes, Toccatas, Caprices, etc., for Pianoforte alone, each | 10-15 | " |
| Vocal Music. | ||
| Grand Mass | 130 | " |
| Smaller Mass | 100 | " |
| Grand Oratorio | 300 | " |
| Smaller Oratorio | 200 | " |
| Graduale | 20 | " |
| Offertorium | 20 | " |
| Te Deum Laudamus | 50 | " |
| Requiem | 120 | " |
| Vocal pieces with Orchestral accompaniment | 20 | " |
| An Opera Seria | 300 | " |
| Six large Songs with Pianoforte accompaniment | 20 | " |
| Six smaller Songs, ditto | 12 | " |
| A Ballad | 15 | "[26] |
It must be borne in mind that these terms were offered to Beethoven at the period of his life when he had already published his first eight symphonies and almost all his famous pianoforte sonatas, and other works, up to Op. 109, and when he therefore was in the zenith of his reputation in the eyes of the daily increasing number of lovers of music who were able to understand his genius. In fact, he afterwards received higher prices; for instance, the publisher Schott, in Mayence, paid him, in 1825, for the second Mass (D major) 1000 florins; for the ninth Symphony, 600 florins; for the Quartett Op. 127, fifty ducats; and for the Quartett Op. 131, eighty ducats. He was still better remunerated, on a certain occasion, by the publisher Diabelli, in Vienna, who having composed a Waltz for the pianoforte, wished Beethoven to write six or seven variations upon it, for which he offered to give him eighty ducats. Well, Beethoven sat down to compose seven variations. But, the longer he wrote, the more new ideas occurred to him, and the seven variations soon increased to ten, then to twenty, then to twenty-five. When Diabelli learnt that Beethoven had written twenty-five variations and was still continuing to add to their number, he became rather alarmed lest the work should grow too voluminous for practical use. However, he did not succeed in stopping the composer until after the thirty-third variation. The entire set was published by Diabelli in 1823, under the title '33 Veränderungen über einen Walzer von A. Diabelli, von Ludwig van Beethoven, Op. 120.'
What must one think of Beethoven's knowledge of money matters when in a letter to a friend, in which he laments his reduced circumstances, he asks for advice how he can obtain "money for a bank-note;" while all he has to do is to cut off from his bond a coupon, and to have it cashed by the nearest money-changer.[27] Beethoven, owing to his unpractical habits, required much money, although he lived but frugally. For instance, it happened that he had to pay rent for three or four residences at a time, because he had neglected to give warning at the old residence when he hired a new one. Fortunately for him, some of his admirers among men of position and wealth interested themselves about his personal comfort. In an honourable and delicate way they ensured him an annual income in addition to the gains accruing to him by the sale of his works. The result was that he actually left some money at his death. He died (to use an English expression) worth one thousand pounds.
If the correspondence of some of our most celebrated composers with their publishers were made known, we should probably find therein unvarnished statements which would surprise us, inasmuch as they would reveal disappointments which it is now difficult to reconcile with the celebrity of those composers. The obstacles which some of our classical composers have encountered in getting their works printed are very remarkable. J. S. Bach himself engraved on copper-plates his esteemed work 'The Art of Fugue;' only thirty copies were struck off, as sufficient to supply the demand; and, after the death of the old master, his exceedingly practical son, Emanuel, offered the plates for sale at the value of the copper plates.[28] It is painful to reflect that some composers who lived in straitened circumstances obtained little or nothing for certain of their works which have enriched their publishers. Franz Schubert had to struggle for his daily bread. When the 'Erl-King' was sung by his friend Vogl for the first time in public, at a concert in Vienna in the year 1821, it produced sensation, while other compositions by Schubert which were performed on the same occasion, met with a cool reception. Schubert published the 'Erl-King' at his own expense, with the assistance of some friends. But, as his needy circumstances soon compelled him to sell the copyright of this song, which was then but little known, his gain was very small, even if compared with the profits which some arrangers have derived from transcribing the song for the pianoforte. Although the conditions which he proposed to the publishers were always modest, they were generally rejected as being exorbitant. How cautiously the publishers treated him, may be seen from a letter which Peters, in Leipzig, wrote to Hüttenbrenner, a friend of Schubert. As this letter is also interesting inasmuch as it affords a glance into the speculations of a practical man who makes the art his business, it deserves a place here, although it is rather long. The translation, which is from the German, is as literal as possible:—
"Having been extremely busy since I received your letter of the 18th of October, I trust you will excuse the tardiness of my reply.
"I am very much obliged to you for your communication respecting Herr Schubert. Several of his vocal compositions are favourably known to me, and give me confidence in your recommendation of this artist. It will be a great pleasure to me to assist in a wider diffusion of the works of this composer than the Vienna music-sellers are capable of effecting. But, before I enter into any obligation, allow me to give you a little sketch of my business arrangements.
"At the moment when I commenced my present business I resolved to distinguish myself advantageously as a publisher, never to print anything bad, but rather as much as possible to print only the best. It is impracticable to carry out this plan thoroughly; for I cannot obtain from the most distinguished artists alone as many manuscripts as I require. Besides, we publishers are also often compelled from policy to print many things which I at least would otherwise not print. Nay, we must publish even many slight works in order to provide for a certain public; for, if we confined ourselves to classical works only, we should have a very limited sphere of business; since, as is well known, the connoisseurs do not constitute the majority. Nevertheless, I have not been influenced by desire for gain to patronize the more lucrative but trashy fashionable trifles; I have always taken care that also the works for the great majority of the people should never be bad. Always keeping my favourite aim in view, I have chiefly striven to issue superior works; and this my endeavour will in future become more and more apparent, since every year increases the number of my valuable connections, which my financial resources permit me to maintain.
"These observations lead me to mention two obstacles which often frustrate my plan. The first is want of time, which almost continually curbs me. In order to obtain as many good works as possible, I must seek after connections with good artists, and I must strengthen these connections not only by endeavouring to satisfy the artists, but also by proving myself a publisher always ready at their service,—a mutual understanding which is convenient to both parties. My connection with most of those of my authors who are valuable to me,—as for instance, Spohr, Romberg, Hummel, etc.,—has grown into a friendly relation. I am, therefore, doubly compelled to accept all that such friends and good artists send me, although there is often much among it of which I know at once that I shall gain nothing by it. These obligations take up much of my time, not only because those artists give me constant occupation, but also because I require leisure for examining such works of other authors as I receive unexpectedly, as is the case with the present ones. Thus, the time remaining to me is seldom sufficient to enable me to undertake the publication of more works than I have in hand; and I am continually prevented forming new connections with composers from want of time.
"The second obstacle which renders a new connection difficult, and which proceeds from the facts above stated, is the novelty, and the name of a young composer unknown in my sphere of business. Very often I am reproached with not making known the works of new composers, and that a new composer cannot become known if the publishers do not undertake the publication of his works. This reproach is, however, quite undeserved as far as I am concerned; for I cannot do everything, and must keep to a fixed plan in order to succeed. My plan is to obtain the works of artists who are already celebrated. True, I print many other works besides; but if I can obtain enough of those, I must leave to other publishers the introduction to the public of new composers. These publishers are also able to do something, and many are glad to engage new composers, because they fear to pay the sums demanded by older and more valuable artists. But as soon as the new composer has obtained a name, and his works are known as being good, then I am his man; and then the publication of his works accords with my plan, which is calculated more with regard to honour than to gain. I will then rather pay a high price for his works than procure them in the beginning on low terms.
"You see, therefore, that it is difficult for me to meet at once your proposal respecting Herr Schubert, especially as my time is so much taken up. However, my opinion of him makes me reluctant to disregard altogether the wish of this young artist. As a middle course, I would, therefore, propose that Herr Schubert should send me some of his works which he desires to have printed, so that I may examine them; for, without having previously seen the manuscript, I accept nothing from a young composer who is but little known. If a great and well-known artist produces something bad, the blame falls upon him, because his name is my guarantee; but if I bring out something by a new artist which is not liked, the blame falls upon me; for, who compels me to print a composition of the merit of which I am not convinced? Here the name of the composer is no protection to me. Herr Schubert may be sure that in trusting his manuscripts to me, he places them in safe hands; there will be no misuse made of them. In case that I find them satisfactory, I shall retain of them as many as I find convenient; on the other hand, Herr Schubert must not feel hurt if I do not like one or other piece. I shall be quite candid, for candour is the surest way to lead to a right understanding.
"Furthermore, I must beg him to forward to me only his most successful works. True, he will not think of publishing anything which he does not consider a successful production. Be this as it may, a composer is always more successful with one work than with another; and I must have the best. I say I must have the best; not for the sake of gain, but for the sake of my reputation, when I introduce a composer to my public, which is very extensive. I have been very painstaking to make my establishment as complete as possible, and I now experience from many quarters the recompense that my firm enjoys in an extraordinary degree the confidence of others. People expect from me the publication of many good works; and if I bring out a new author, they soon give him their confidence, believing that he must be good because I had taken notice of him. No doubt, there have been mistakes; but I am becoming more and more cautious, in order that I may always ensure and strengthen my reputation, which to acquire I have taken so much trouble. For this reason I insist upon a new author giving me his best, in order that I may recommend him properly from the beginning, my recommendation being justified. Besides, the first impression often opens the road to the whole future; wherefore, to composers just beginning, the good advice to proceed with the publication of their works as cautiously as possible, cannot be too often repeated. They may venture much, but should have only little printed until their reputation is established.
"Spohr has hitherto brought out only 58 works; Andreas Romberg, 66; Bernhard Romberg, 38; while now many other artists who are much younger have already had printed above a hundred. Those well-known composers have written much more, which, however, they thought advisable to withhold from publication. If, by way of contradiction, you point out to me the fertile, and nevertheless valuable Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, etc., I declare that such men are rare masters whom we ought certainly to regard as models, but that experience must first teach us whether the young aspirant is similarly gifted. Moreover, many of the earlier compositions of Mozart have never been printed.
"Now, have the kindness to confer with Herr Schubert upon my communication to you, and decide what is further to be done. As regards the terms, I beg you to inform me of them, because it is disagreeable to my feelings to make an offer for an intellectual production. Most likely there will not be any difficulty about settling the conditions. The perseverance with which my authors stick to me, sufficiently shows that they do well with me; this I can assert of myself to my own praise. Besides, the conditions of a young artist cannot be so high that they could not easily be conceded to. I believe that, as you intimate, of a new work by Herr Schubert, perhaps 300 copies might be sold in Vienna alone. But then it must be printed in Vienna. I do not think that I should sell there 100 copies, although I am in connection with all the music-sellers of that town. You will understand this quite well, and I need not explain the cause, but you may believe me that it is so; experience confirms it, and the exceptions are rare indeed.
I remain, with high esteem, etc.,
B. V. Peters.
Leipzig, November 14th, 1822."
"Should Herr Schubert send me vocal compositions, I should prefer songs, each with a name, like Beethoven's 'Adelaide,' or others of the kind. There are so many songs now published that no sufficient attention is given to them if they have no names."[29]
During the years 1826-28, Schubert had still trouble in getting his compositions printed. This is evident from the tone of the replies to his solicitations as well as from the conditions demanded by the publishers. Probst, in Leipzig, in a letter to Schubert, dated August 26th, 1826, remarks:—"It was, no doubt, an honour to me, which I appreciate, to make your acquaintance through your letter of the 12th instant; and thanking you heartily for your confidence in me, I am quite willing to contribute, as far as lies in my power, to the spread of your reputation as an artist. I must, however, candidly confess that the peculiar direction of your intellectual productions, which often shows genius, but which is also sometimes rather strange, is not yet sufficiently and generally understood by our public. I, therefore, pray you to take this kindly into consideration when you send me manuscripts. A selection of songs, and pianoforte compositions for two or four hands, which are not difficult, and which are pleasant and easily comprehensible, would appear to me suitable for attaining your aim and my wish. When the way has been once opened, anything will do; but, in the beginning one must in some measure comply with the public taste," etc.
In another letter to Schubert, by the same publisher, written in 1827, he says: "However much pleasure it would give me to incorporate your name in my catalogue, I must for the present renounce it, as I am overwhelmed with work owing to the publication of Kalkbrenner's Œuvres complètes. I also confess that the honorarium of eighty florins[30] for each manuscript seems to me rather high terms. I keep the works at your disposal, and remain," etc.
A year later, in 1828, he writes more encouragingly: "I have been sincerely grieved that a difference in our opinions, before my journey to Vienna, frustrated your esteemed application for the publication of your compositions through my firm.... Have, therefore, the kindness when you have completed something which is a success, to send it here—especially songs, ballads, romances, which, without being devoid of originality, are easily comprehensible; also some pianoforte pieces for two performers, written in the same style.... As regards the honorarium, we shall readily come to an agreement, if you will only treat with me on a moderate scale; and you will find me always in these matters reasonable, provided the works are so that I can be pleased with them. The prices of the Vienna publishers might here fairly serve as a guide. Herr Lähne would pay you your honorarium in proper time punctually. Moreover, I must beg you to examine beforehand carefully the works which you intend me to have, and not to show them first to the Vienna publishers. Such business transactions must remain entirely between ourselves. I give you my solemn word that you shall never repent it if you favour me with your friendly confidence, and if, by selecting only such compositions for me in which you have been successful, you afford me the opportunity of exerting myself for the sake of your reputation."
Breitkopf and Härtel, the famous publishers in Leipzig, in a letter to Schubert, dated September 7th, 1826, cautiously suggest: "We reply with grateful thanks to your kind intention of sending us some compositions for publication, and we assure you that it would give us much pleasure to enter into a mutually advantageous business relation with you. But as we are yet quite unacquainted with the mercantile result of your compositions, and as we, therefore, cannot meet you by offering you a fixed pecuniary remuneration,—which the publisher can only fix and allow after the success of the work,—we must leave it to you whether you will make an attempt to form a connection with us which may perhaps be durable, and whether in order to facilitate this attempt you will be satisfied with a certain number of copies as remuneration for the first work, or works, which you may send us. We have no doubt that you will agree to the proposal, since with you as well as with us the object is less the publication of a single work, than the introduction to a continued connection. In this case we propose that you should send us first a few pianoforte pieces for one performer or for two. Should our hope of a good result be realized, so that we may be enabled to offer you for the subsequent works a proper remuneration in money, it will be a pleasure to us to render thereby your connection with us agreeable to you.
We remain, with the highest esteem, etc.,
Breitkopf and Härtel."[31]
Somewhat later, when Schubert had become a little better known, he received more favourable replies. Schott, in Mayence, offered to publish several of his works, and to pay for them. In a letter dated April 28th, 1828, Schott, however, declined to accept the trio in E-flat major, which Schubert had mentioned in his list of finished manuscripts: "The trio," Schott remarks, "is probably large; and as we have recently brought out several trios, we must postpone to a later period the publication of compositions of this kind to avoid disadvantages for our business; and the delay would be against your interest." This trio (Op. 100) was afterwards bought by Probst, in Leipzig, for about two pounds, paid with a grumble, and with the insulting remark: "In any case, I hope the Trio in question is not the 'Fantasia' which was performed on the 5th of February in Herr Slawick's concert at the Kärnthnerthor theatre; for that composition was unfavourably criticized in the Leipzig Musical Gazette, No. XIV., page 223."
Again, in a letter from Schott, dated October 30th, 1828, and received by Schubert about three weeks before his death, he is told among other business matters: "We shall soon print your Quintett;[32] but we must remark that the price put on this little work is too high. The pianoforte part takes up only six printed pages, and we surmise it to be by an oversight that we are asked to pay sixty florins[33] for it. We offer you thirty florins for it.... The pianoforte piece, Op. 101, certainly would not be too dear for us; but its unsuitableness for our sale in France is very vexatious. Should you compose occasionally something less difficult and yet brilliant, and also in an easy key, this you may send us, if you please, without further communication."[34]
Under these circumstances it is no wonder that after the death of Schubert there should have been some difficulty in defraying the expenses of his burial, which amounted to about seven pounds; while his effects, consisting of his dress, a bed, and some old music-books, were together valued at six pounds six shillings.
Mozart's pecuniary circumstances were scarcely more cheerful than Schubert's, considering how highly Mozart was appreciated by many during the last few years of his life. Having in his youth been guided by his prudent father to be careful in the management of his gains and expenses, he always wished to be careful, and sometimes troubled himself much about being practical, but evidently found it very difficult. When the publisher Hofmeister, in Leipzig, said to him: "Mozart, you must make concessions to the popular taste, or I cannot buy anything more from you for publication!" Mozart replied: "Well, I must write what I think good, though I should starve." Some music-sellers, in an inexplicable way, succeeded in procuring manuscripts of his, for which they did not pay him anything.[35] His famous opera, 'Die Zauberflöte,' he wrote with the object of benefiting his friend, the embarrassed theatrical manager Schikaneder; and the statement of some writers, that Mozart gained only fifty thalers (about £7 10s.) by this opera, may therefore be correct. The King of Prussia offered him an appointment as Kapellmeister in Berlin, with a salary of 3,000 thalers. Mozart solicited an audience of his master, the Emperor Joseph II. and asked for his dismission. "Dear Mozart, you will leave me?" said the emperor. "No, your Majesty!" replied Mozart, touched by the hearty tone in which the Emperor spoke to him: "No, your Majesty, I remain!"
A friend, to whom Mozart soon afterwards related this occurrence, said: "But why did you not seize this favourable opportunity to ask for a fixed income?"
Mozart replied: "How could I at that moment think of money matters!"
He subsequently received an annual pay of 800 florins, with the title of Kapellmeister in the service of the Emperor. At his death, he left a debt of 3,000 florins. The copyright of 'La Clemenza di Tito' was offered to Breitkopf, in Leipzig, for sixteen ducats. Breitkopf having declined the opera, it was bought by his apprentice, A. Böhme, who with it laid the foundation of his prosperous publishing-house in Hamburg.
It must be admitted that among our modern composers several very practical men could be pointed out. Some, who are the offspring of rich bankers, may have inherited business-like habits in a natural course; this appears all the more probable since they belong to a race which is known to possess extraordinary talent for money-making.
It has long been a favourite project with distinguished musicians on the continent to visit England, to be there extremely practical, in order to accumulate as much money as they could in the shortest time possible, and then to retire to the fatherland to be happy ever after. Possibly the rumour concerning Handel's property, and his bequests, to which also Mattheson alludes in his annotations to the 'Memoirs of the Life of Handel,'[36] may have contributed to entice other continental musicians to try to make their fortune in England; and many have shown common sense enough in this attempt. Handel in London generally received for the copyright of an oratorio twenty guineas. The wealthy publisher, Walsh, gained £1500 by the publication of the opera 'Rinaldo,' a fact which elicited from Handel the remark: "My dear sir, it is only right that we should be upon an equal footing; you shall compose the next opera, and I will sell it." At any rate, so the story goes. Handel, after having lost, by his enterprise as manager of the Haymarket Theatre, all the money he had gained during a residence in England of about twenty-four years, which amounted to about £10,000, commenced anew, exerting himself as a practical man in another and more successful way. Handel died "worth" upwards of twenty thousand pounds.
Music-printing in the eighteenth century was not in the flourishing state which it has now attained. The composers had other sources of profit besides the sale of their manuscripts,—such as public performances, dedications of works to wealthy patrons of the art, or by having an appointment, with a fixed salary, in the service of a sovereign. To judge correctly of the capacity for business of a distinguished musician, it is necessary to take into consideration the usages of his time.
Haydn, on his first visit to London, in 1791, was engaged by Salomon for £500, for which sum he had to compose six symphonies, and personally to direct the performance of them at the concerts; and to resign the copyright of those six symphonies. Furthermore, £200 were guaranteed to him by Salomon for a benefit concert.
That Rossini could be practical in England, is evident from the following conversation of this composer with F. Hiller. It is given here in translation from the German. By way of preface to it, may be mentioned that Rossini, in Italy, received for an opera from twenty to thirty pounds. However, for the 'Barber of Seville' he received about eighty pounds.
Hiller. "Considering, Maestro, that you have grown up among singers and actors, and that you possessed a fine voice, it seems almost singular that you did not think of becoming an operatic singer."
Rossini. "I had no other intention, dear sir; but I also wished to learn my art more thoroughly than most of the singers with whom I came into contact at that time had learnt it. This was easy enough; at an early period I already officiated as Maëstro al Cembalo; then there came the period when the mutation of my voice interfered with my singing; my attempts at composition found favourable reception; and thus I fell almost accidentally into the career of the composer. I adhered to it, although I had from the beginning the opportunity of observing how incomparably better the singers are rewarded than we are."
Hiller. "Heaven knows! Beethoven has hardly received for all his works as much as Cruvelli obtains annually at the Grand Opera."
Rossini. "It was not quite so bad at that time as it is now; but that makes no difference. When the composer received fifty ducats, the singer received a thousand. I confess that I never could help feeling vexed at this injustice, and often have I given vent to my dissatisfaction in the presence of the singers. You ignorant fellows, I said, you cannot sing even so well as I can, and you gain more in one evening than I am paid for a whole score! But, what was the use of talking thus. Neither do the German composers get rich."
Hiller. "Certainly not, Maestro! But they obtain appointments which, though they are not lucrative, ensure the most important necessities of life. No German composer has ever gained so much by his operas that he could live upon the proceeds. However, it appears to be now better in this respect than it formerly was."
Rossini. "Incomparably better. The former Italian opera composers could write Heaven knows how many operas, and had nevertheless to struggle to make both ends meet. I was scarcely better off until I obtained an appointment with Barbaja."[37]
Hiller. "Tancredi was the first of your operas which proved a decided hit; how much did you get for it, Maestro?"
Rossini. "Five hundred francs. And when I composed my last Italian opera, 'Semiramide,' and insisted upon having five thousand francs for it, not only the theatrical manager, but the whole public regarded me as a sort of highwayman."
Hiller. "You have the consolation of knowing that singers, managers, and publishers have become rich through you."
Rossini. "A fine consolation! Except during my stay in England, I have never gained by my art so much that I could lay anything by; and the money which I made in London, I did not make as a composer, but as an accompanist."
Hiller. "Yet it was because you were a celebrated composer."
Rossini. "That is what my friends said, to persuade me to take to the new occupation. It may have been a prejudice with me, but I had a dislike to being paid for accompanying on the pianoforte, and I have submitted to it nowhere but in London. However, they were determined to see my nose, and to hear my wife. I had fixed for our co-operation at musical evenings the rather high terms of £50. We attended at about sixty of such evenings, and the pecuniary result was certainly worth the trouble. Moreover, in London the musicians will do anything to make money. I have witnessed there, queer doings."
Hiller. "There one scarcely trusts one's eyes, still less one's ears."
Rossini. "Thus, for instance, when I accepted my first engagement as accompanist at such a Soirée, I was told that Puzzi, the celebrated virtuoso on the horn, and Dragonetti, the celebrated double-bass player, would also be present. I thought they would play solo, but this was far from being the case, they had only been engaged to assist me in accompanying. Have you then written parts for all these pieces? I asked—'Oh, dear, no!' they replied, 'but we get well paid, and so we accompany with whatever comes into our head.' These attempts at improvised instrumental performances appeared to me, however, too venturesome; I therefore begged Dragonetti to restrict himself to twanging occasionally some Pizzicatos, whenever I should wink my eyes to him; and I suggested to Puzzi to fall in with his horn whenever a cadence occurred, which he, as a good musician, easily accomplished. Thus we went through it without very serious accidents, and everyone was contented."
Hiller. "That is capital! But the English, it appears to me, have made great progress in regard to music. They have at present much good music well performed and attentively listened to; that is, in public concerts. In the drawing-room, music is still painfully maltreated. Many persons without the least musical talent parade themselves with an incredible boldness, and give instruction in things of which they know little or nothing."
Rossini. "I knew in London a certain X., who as teacher of the pianoforte had amassed a large property. All he knew of music, however, was that he blew the flute a little, and that quite miserably. Another, who was greatly in demand as a teacher of singing, did not know even the notes. He kept his own accompanist, whose business it was first to hammer those pieces into his master, and afterwards to accompany him when he taught the pieces to the pupils. This singer possessed however a nice voice."[38]
For the sake of truth some business letters written by distinguished German composers to English publishers must be noticed here, although they redound to the honour of the writers as little as do some of the letters of the German publishers just cited. Not that they reveal a deficiency in common sense as regards business transactions; they exhibit the writers as rather too practical. Among the letters which the music-seller W. Forster, in London, received from Haydn, with whom he kept up a correspondence about the purchase of manuscripts for publication in England, the following, which was originally written in German, is selected as a characteristic specimen. It dates from the year 1788, and was published by S. A. Forster, a son of the music-seller, in his account of the correspondence which his father had with Haydn.
"My dear Mr. Forster,
Do not be annoyed with me that on my account you have had trouble with Mr. Longman. I will satisfy you another time on that point. It is not my fault, but that of the usurer Artaria. So much I promise you that so long as I live, neither Artaria nor Longman shall receive anything from me or through me. I am too honourable and upright to annoy or injure you. So much, however, you will yourself plainly understand that whoever will have six new pieces from me must give me more than twenty guineas. I did, in fact, some time ago conclude a contract with somebody who pays me for every six pieces one hundred guineas and more. Another time I will write you more; meanwhile I am with all respect,
Your obedient servant,
Joseph Haydn."
Still less creditable to the writer are the following extracts from letters addressed by Beethoven to the publisher, R. Birchall, of London, who had bought the copyright for Great Britain and Ireland of four works by Beethoven, viz.:—The pianoforte arrangement of the Battle Symphony, Op. 91; the pianoforte arrangement of the A major Symphony, Op. 92; the Sonata for pianoforte and violin in G major, Op. 96; and the B-flat major Trio for pianoforte, violin, and violoncello, Op. 97. The letters were originally written in English. They are too long for entire insertion here. To render the extracts fully comprehensible, it is necessary to state that Beethoven, after having received from Birchall the sum agreed upon for those works, unexpectedly demanded five pounds for the copying and postage of them; and when Birchall had shown him so much consideration as to satisfy him also on this point, Beethoven wrote to him as follows:—
"Vienna, October 1st, 1816.
"My dear Sir,
I have duly received the £5, and thought previously you would not increase the number of Englishmen neglecting their word and honour, as I had the misfortune of meeting with two of this sort. In reply to the other topics of your favour, I have no objection to write variations according to your plan, and I hope you will not find £30 too much; the accompaniment will be a flute, or violin, or a violoncello; you'll either decide it when you send me the approbation of the price, or you'll leave it to me.... Concerning the expenses of copying and packing, it is not possible to fix them beforehand; they are at any rate not considerable, and you'll please to consider that you have to deal with a man of honour, who will not charge one sixpence more than he is charged himself.... With all the new works which you will have of me, or which I offer you, it rests with you to name the day of their publication at your own choice. I entreat you to honour me as soon as possible with an answer, having many orders for compositions, and that you may not be delayed....
Your most humble Servant,
Ludwig van Beethoven."
These remarks of Beethoven elicited the following reply from Mr. C. Lonsdale, the manager at R. Birchall's.
"London, Nov. 8, 1816.
"Sir,
In answer to yours of the 1st October I am desired by Mr. Birchall to inform you he is glad to find you are now satisfied respecting the promise of paying you £5,—in addition to what you before received according to agreement,—but he did not think you would have delayed sending the receipt signed, after the receipt of the 130 ducats, merely because you had not received the £5, which latter sum was not included in the receipt. Till it arrives, Mr. Birchall cannot at any rate enter into any fresh arrangement, as his first care will be to secure those pieces he has already paid for, and see how they answer his purpose as a music-seller; and without the receipt he cannot prevent any other music-seller from publishing them. In regard to the airs with variations, the price of £30, which it is supposed you mean for each, is considerably more than he could afford to give,—even to have any hopes of seeing them repay him; if that should be your lowest price, Mr. Birchall will give up his idea of them altogether.... I am sorry to say Mr. Birchall's health has been very bad for two or three years back, which prevents him from attending to business; and as there are, I fear, but little hopes of his being much better, he is less anxious respecting making any additions to his catalogue than he otherwise would have been. He is much obliged to you for the offer of the Sonata and the Trio; but he begs to decline it for the reasons before mentioned. Hoping to hear soon respecting the paper sent for your signature.
I am, Sir,
For R. Birchall, etc.,
C. Lonsdale."
To this reasonable letter Beethoven replies (in English):
"Vienna, Dec. 14th, 1816.
"Dear Sir,
I give you my word of honour that I have signed and delivered the receipt to the house Fries and Co., some day last August, who, as they say, have transmitted it to Messrs. Coutts and Co., where you'll have the goodness to apply. Some error might have taken place, that instead of Messrs. C. sending it to you they have been directed to keep it till fetched. Excuse this irregularity, but it is not my fault, nor had I ever the idea of withholding it from the circumstance of the £5 not being included. Should the receipt not come forth at Messrs. C., I am ready to sign any other, and you shall have it directly with return of post.
If you find variations—in my style—too dear at £30, I will abate for the sake of your friendship one third, and you have the offer of such variations, as fixed in our former letters, for £20 each air.... I anxiously hope your health is improving. Give me leave to subscribe myself,
Dear Sir,
Your very obedient Servant,
Ludwig van Beethoven."[39]
Beethoven being unacquainted with the English language was obliged to employ some person to write these letters for him. But, as he signed them, he must be held answerable for their contents. Had he been able to read them, he would probably have disapproved of the manner in which his business transactions were conducted by his interpreter.
During the later years of his life it was a favourite idea with Beethoven to visit England for the purpose of making money. In the year 1817 he corresponded (in German) with F. Ries, in London, on the subject, in consequence of an invitation from the Philharmonic Society. The conditions under which he was willing to accept the invitation he carefully specified as follows:—
"1. I propose to be in London at the latest during the first half of the month of January, in 1818.
2. I promise to bring with me two new large symphonies, which shall become the exclusive property of the Philharmonic Society.
3. The Philharmonic Society pledges itself to pay me for the two symphonies three hundred guineas, and for my travelling expenses one hundred guineas. I expect that the journey will cost me much more than the sum which I ask, because I shall necessarily require a travelling companion.
4. In order that I may be enabled to occupy myself at once uninterruptedly with composing those large symphonies, the Philharmonic Society binds itself to pay 150 guineas of the above sum in advance, so that I may procure without delay a travelling carriage and other travelling equipments.
5. The conditions proposed by the Philharmonic Society as regards my non-appearance in any other public orchestra than its own, about not conducting the orchestra, and about suchlike matters for the advantage of the Society, I consent to unreservedly. My feeling of honour would have dictated them to me as a matter of course.
6. I dare to hope that the Philharmonic Society will oblige me with its assistance in the preparation and promotion of one benefit concert, or perhaps more....
7. I must beg that the conditions, or the agreement to the above, shall be written in the English language, signed by three Directors of the Philharmonic Society in the name of the Society, and forwarded to me."
Failing health prevented Beethoven from undertaking the journey. The Philharmonic Society, believing him to be in want, which was far from being the case, in a delicate way presented him with £100. Indeed, Beethoven had every reason to feel gratified by the generous attention shown to him by those Englishmen who were able to appreciate his merits. In the year 1817, some of his London admirers gave him great pleasure by sending him a new grand-piano of Broadwood's manufacture; and in 1826, the kind-hearted Mr. J. A. Stumpff, in London, a German by birth, and a harp-maker in by no means affluent circumstances, made him a present of Arnold's edition of Handel's works, in forty volumes folio,—a gift which was taken to the bedside of the dying composer, and which soothed his last days of suffering.
Also Haydn received from England touching marks of veneration. Some instances of homage offered by enthusiastic amateurs, must have caused him amusement on account of their singularity, if for no better reason. The worsted-spinner W. Gardiner, of Leicester, forwarded to him a present of six pairs of cotton stockings in which he had worked the notation of some popular melodies by Haydn,—such as the air "My mother bids me bind my hair;" the theme of the Andante in the Surprise Symphony; the tune of the Hymn "God preserve the Emperor," etc. W. Gardiner was himself a musical composer, his mode of composing being that of the Bavarian prince Joseph Clemens, who set about it "like the bees which extract honey from the most beautiful flowers, and mix it together."[40] Thus W. Gardiner "composed" a whole oratorio, which he made up of choruses and airs borrowed from various masters, and more or less distorted to suit them to their new place. Only the overture was wanting. He wrote to Beethoven to induce him to compose one for this oratorio, and offered to pay 100 guineas for it. Beethoven never answered the letter.[41] Had he been really as greedy of gain as in his correspondence with Birchall he appears to be, he would probably have accepted the offer, which was rather liberal. Nevertheless, had he accepted it, the result would very likely have proved the manufacturer a more practical man than the composer. Be this as it may, it is quite comprehensible that to Beethoven an attempt to associate him with musical jobbery must have been especially repulsive.
Perhaps no opera composer had a better chance of becoming a rich man than had Carl Maria von Weber. The success of 'Der Freischütz' was immense. The fascinating melodies of this opera were sung, played and whistled everywhere, by musical and unmusical people. It would be difficult to point out a civilized country in which 'Der Freischütz' has not been performed and listened to with rapture. Before the popularity of the opera was fully established, Weber offered the pianoforte score to the publisher Schlesinger, in Berlin, for sixty Frederick-d'ors (£51). Schlesinger thought the demand exorbitant, and offered two hundred and twenty thalers (£33), which Weber accepted.[42] Nevertheless, in consequence of the many performances of 'Der Freischütz' in various towns on the Continent, from which the composer derived some pecuniary advantage, the opera proved rather lucrative to him. Still, it was more remunerative indirectly than directly, inasmuch as its universal success induced Charles Kemble, the manager of the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, to engage Weber to compose 'Oberon,' and to visit London for the purpose of conducting the new opera. Thus Weber had an excellent opportunity of exercising his aptitude for business. How he acquitted himself of the task, may be gathered from his rejecting at the outset the terms offered by Kemble,—which were £500, and all his expenses paid,—and proposing his own terms, which, with the help of some one acquainted with the English language, he had penned as follows:—
"At my arrival at London I will first of all preside at the piano in six representations of the 'Freischütz'; for the first five you will give me every night a pecuniary compensation of two hundred pounds, and the sixth as a benefit for me. During this time we will prepare 'Oberon' and I will preside at the piano also the first six representations at the same conditions. I must be assured that all this be settled in three months, otherwise I should claim an adequate indemnification. The music of 'Oberon' (Partition, and adapted by me for the Piano) is then your property for Great Britain. The poem and the music are mine for all the rest of Europe."
According to this proposal Weber would have realized in the course of three months £2,400. But he soon experienced that one may also be too practical. His shattered health rendered the journey to England exceedingly fatiguing, and the trouble, excitement and disappointments connected with the rehearsals and representations of 'Oberon,' and with the necessary preparations for his concerts, accelerated his dissolution. He died in 1826, when he had been about three months in London, and the proceeds of his toil during the time amounted to about £1,100, or less than half the sum which he at first demanded from Kemble.
The musical student, in perusing the master-works in his art, has continually occasion to admire the careful consideration which the composers have given to every bar so as to produce great effects by simple means, interesting variety in unity, thus achieving as nearly as possible a perfect work of art. Also, their remarks upon their compositions show how thoughtfully they laboured, considering and reconsidering every step they took. It is unnecessary to illustrate this fact by quotations, as instances will probably occur to the reader. Suffice it to notice a remark by Mozart, which shows how cleverly he contrived to make concessions to the popular taste, in as far as he could accomplish this without deterioration to his compositions as works of art. In a letter to his father, which he wrote from Paris, he thus describes the performance of a new symphony, which he had been requested to compose for the Concert Spirituel:—
"In the middle of the first Allegro is a passage of which I knew well that it would please. All the auditors were transported by it, and there was great applause. As I knew, when I wrote the passage, what its effect would be, I introduced it once more towards the end of the movement. Then they demanded a repetition of the entire Allegro. The Andante pleased also; but especially the last Allegro. As I had been told that it was the usual custom with the composers here in Paris to commence the last Allegro of a symphony, like the first, with the full orchestra, generally in unison, I commenced mine with only the first and second violins, piano through eight bars. Then came suddenly forte. Consequently, the auditors made first, as I had expected,—hush! and then the forte surprised them so greatly, that they applauded as a matter of course."
Is this not thoroughly practical in an artistic point of view?
