CHAPTER XIV.
IMPROVEMENT OF CHOPINʼS POSITION IN PARIS. ELSNERʼS LETTER. MOSCHELESʼS AND FIELDʼS OPINIONS OF CHOPIN. TRIP TO AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, CARLSBAD, MARIENBAD, DRESDEN, AND LEIPSIC. VISIT TO MENDELSSOHN AND SCHUMANN.
OINCIDENT with the rise of Chopinʼs star above the horizon of Parisian society was the spread of his fame as a composer, so that after 1832 his works, some of which he had written in his own country, some in Vienna, Leipsic, Paris, or during his travels, became widely diffused. They included the three Nocturnes, op. 15; Bolero, op. 19; Scherzo, op. 20; Grande Polonaise Brillante, op. 22; Ballade, op, 23; four Mazurkas, op. 24; two Polonaises, op. 26; two Nocturnes, op. 27; and Impromptu, op. 29.
By most of the professional critics, these were, as we have already said, dogmatically condemned as being devoid of all artistic merit. There were, however, some few—but very few indeed—who unreservedly recognized the boldness and originality of thought, the rare wealth of harmony, and the newness of form displayed in Chopinʼs compositions, and who were not staggered by the novelty of a fingering, totally opposed to the traditional method. Field and Moscheles, however, could not forgive Chopinʼs frequent departures from the customary and classical forms, nor could they regard him as other than a bold revolutionist. In 1833 Moscheles wrote on Chopinʼs early works as follows:[18]
“I gladly avail myself of a few leisure evening hours to become acquainted with Chopinʼs Etudes and other works. Their originality and the national colouring of the motives are very charming; but my fingers are constantly stumbling over hard, inartistic, and to me incomprehensible modulations, so that the whole often seems too cloying, and unworthy of a man and an accomplished musician.”
Later on he writes:—
“I am a sincere admirer of Chopinʼs originality; he produces the newest and most attractive pianoforte work. But personally, I object to his artificial and often forced modulations; my fingers stick and stumble at such passages, and practise them as I may, I never play them fluently.”
Although he somewhat modified this opinion in after years, it is indicative of the impression produced on the most celebrated pianists by Chopinʼs early works. Field had a presentiment that his own glory would be dimmed by the rise of this new and brilliant orb, and he publicly spoke of Chopin as, “un talent de chambre de malade.” This criticism, which principally found credence in Germany, was for ever silenced by the pen of Eusebius and Florestan, in Robert Schumannʼs Neue Zeitschrift für Musik.
CHOPINʼS GREAT POPULARITY.The fame and popularity of Chopin in the Paris salons increased with marvellous rapidity. He was overwhelmed with requests to play at public concerts, for it was well-known how attractive he was to cultivated audiences. On May 20th, 1832, he played at a concert in the hall of the Conservatoire, got up by the Prince of the Muscovites for the benefit of the poor. He chose the first Allegro from his F minor Concerto with orchestral accompaniments,[19] Girard directing. Heinrich Herz asked Chopin and Liszt to take part with him in a quartet for eight hands on two pianos, at a concert he wished to give with his brother Jacob, on April 3rd, 1833. Orlowski, a fellow student of Chopinʼs, wrote to his own family about that time:—
“Chopin is healthy and strong; he turns the heads of all the ladies, and the men are jealous of him. He is now the mode, and the fashionable world will soon be wearing gloves à la Chopin. But he pines after his country.”
Johannes Matuszynski, who came to Paris in the same year (1834) to study medicine, says the same thing in a letter to his father-in-law, in Warsaw:—
“The first thing I did, on arriving in Paris, was to find out Chopin, and I cannot describe what a pleasure it was to us both to meet again after an absence of five years. He has grown so strong and big that I scarcely knew him again. Chopin is the first pianist in Paris, and gives a great many lessons, but none under twenty francs. He has composed a great deal, and his works are very much sought after. I am living with him in the Rue Chaussée dʼAntin, No. 5. This street is indeed rather far from the School of Medicine and the hospitals; but I have good reasons for wishing to be with him; he is all in all to me. We spend the evening at the theatre or in visiting, and if we do neither of these we make ourselves comfortable at home.”
ELSNER URGES HIM TO WRITE AN OPERA. Eisner followed from a distance the artistic development of his beloved pupil, with the warmest interest, and rejoiced over his success. He wrote to him as follows:—
Warsaw, September 14th, 1834.
Everything that I hear and read about my dear Frederic gives me pleasure, but pardon my candour when I say that I have not yet heard enough to satisfy me, whose pleasure it was, unworthy as I am, to be your teacher in harmony and counterpoint, and who will ever be one of your best friends and admirers. Before I leave hac lacrimarum valle I should like to see a performance of your operas, not only for the sake of increasing your fame, but in the interests of musical art generally, especially if the subject were taken from the history of Poland. I am not saying too much. You know that I cannot flatter you, as I am acquainted not only with your genius but with your capacities, and I know that what the critic referred to in your Mazurkas will only become valuable and lasting in an opera.[20]
Urban says, “that a pianoforte composition stands in the same relation to a vocal, orchestral, or a composition for any other instrument, as an engraving does to an oil painting.” This is sound criticism, although some compositions (especially when you play them) may be regarded as coloured plates.
What a pity it is that we can no longer see and talk to each other; I have a great deal more that I could tell you. And I want also to thank you for the present, which is doubly valuable to me. I wish I were a bird that I might visit you in your Olympian abode, which the Parisians consider a swallowʼs nest.
Farewell; love me as I love you, for I am now and ever
Your sincere friend and well-wisher,
JOSEPH ELSNER.
Elsnerʼs letter made Chopin think seriously about composing an opera, and he asked his friend Stanislas Kozmian to write a libretto on a subject from Polish history. Unfortunately, however, either from want of time, or because he feared the Russian Government might object to a Polish national opera, Frederic soon relinquished the idea. Perhaps also the approbation and popularity which his pianoforte works met with everywhere, and especially in Paris, induced him to adhere to that kind of composition. In February 1834, he gave his second public concert in Paris. It took place at the Italian opera-house, and was the most brilliant performance of the season. Habeneck conducted, and the Concerto in E minor was performed for the first time.
Everything seemed to promise the most satisfactory results for the bénéficiaire. The hall was filled with the best of the Parisian aristocracy, with whom Chopin was the first favourite, and the presence of the foremost artists gave an especial interest to the event. But Fredericʼs hopes were disappointed. His refined and poetical playing could not be heard to advantage in the large theatre; and it failed to arouse the enthusiasm of the audience. Chopin felt this, and for a long time was unwilling to play again in a large public hall. The salon and a select circle of poets, artists, and connoisseurs formed a more fitting arena for the triumphs of the gifted and keenly sensitive artist.
Like those rare and beautiful plants which can only flourish in a soft genial climate, Frederic, with his exquisite culture and delicate sensibilities, could only play con amore when in the best society, and among connoisseurs who knew how to appreciate all the niceties of his performance, which under such conditions had a truly magical charm. It was not in Chopinʼs nature to win the favour of the general public; and we might say of him, in Goetheʼs words:
“Wer den Besten seiner Zeit genug gethan,
Der hat gelebt fur alle Zeiten!”
DISLIKE TO GIVING CONCERTS. With the exception of a journey to Rouen, to take part in his friend Orlowskiʼs concert, which was a great sacrifice in the cause of friendship, as appearing in public was distasteful to him, Frederic made no more artistic tours after he settled in Paris. He said in confidence to Liszt: “I am not adapted for giving concerts: I feel timid in the presence of the public; their breath stifles me, their curious gaze paralyzes me; but with you it is a vocation, for if you do not please the public you know how to agitate and confound them.”
But in the midst of a circle of beautiful women, surrounded by friendly and familiar faces, a new poetical life stirred within him; the look of melancholy, which so often overshadowed his face, yielded to an amiable and sympathetic smile; the earnest and beautiful expression of his features was wonderfully fascinating; his conversation sparkled with intelligence, and, unconsciously to himself, the influence of his fresh and harmless wit was indescribably felt by those around. When in a happy mood, his improvisation delighted and elevated the minds of his hearers, or if he happened to be under the inspiration of Comus,[21] awakened a sense of the purest and most innocent joy. He was often in those moods in French, but more often in Polish households, in which, of course, he felt more at home, and, although in the midst of Paris, could fancy himself once more in his beloved fatherland.
He liked to have all the new belles lettres publications sent to him. To any poem that took his fancy he would write a melody, which was soon spread abroad by his friends Fontana and Orda. (The latter, a youth of great promise, fell in Algiers). Prince Casimir Lubomirski, Grzymala, and other musical Poles took an interest in these improvisations, and helped to make them known. These songs were often heard at the houses of Countess Komar, and her charming daughters—one of whom was Princess Beauvau—where Chopin was always a welcome guest. The clever Princess and her younger sister, the Countess Delphine Potocka, famous for her rare beauty and her fascinating singing, gathered around them the élite of the literary and artistic world. No wonder was it that the young Countess made a profound and striking impression on the susceptible heart of Frederic, and that it was a delight to him to accompany her magnificent voice with his poetical playing.
MEETS MENDELSSOHN AT AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. In the latter half of May, 1834, Chopin determined, for the first time, to forsake his pupils and take a trip to Aix-la-Chapelle, with Ferdinand Hiller, in order to be present at the grand Lower-Rhine musical festival, conducted by Mendelssohn. Chopinʼs friendship with the celebrated composer of “St. Paul” dated from their meeting in Paris, in 1832, and resting as it did on mutual regard, was now confirmed and strengthened. Mendelssohn, who was at that time director of the Düsseldorf Stadt Orchestra, was much pleased to meet, at Aix-la-Chapelle, his old friend Hiller, and also Chopin, whose compositions he esteemed very highly. During the festival he spent as much time as possible with the two Parisians, about whom he wrote, on May 23rd, to his mother:—
“They have both made progress in their playing, and Chopin is now one of the first pianists; he produces as many novelties on the piano as Paganini does on his violin, and marvels that one would not have thought possible. Hiller, too, is an excellent player, with plenty of force and fancy. But both of them aim rather at Parisian sensationalism, and too often disregard time, repose, and true musical feeling. I, perhaps, incline to the opposite extreme, and so we supplied each otherʼs deficiencies, and all three, I believe, learnt something from one another. About me there was a dash of the school-master, about them the soupçon of a mirliflore or an incroyable. After the festival we travelled together to Düsseldorf, and spent a very pleasant day in music and discussion; yesterday, I accompanied them to Cologne; and early this morning they went up by steamer to Coblentz, and I came down. Thus ended the charming episode.”[22]
A great pleasure was in prospect for Chopin in the following year. His father had been strongly urged by the Warsaw doctors to go to Carlsbad for the sake of his health, and as soon as Frederic heard that this was decided on he left Paris, about the end of July, and in a few days had the pleasure of embracing his beloved parents, whom, for five years, he had so painfully missed. It is more easy to imagine than to describe the delight of this meeting. Their dear little Frederic had become a man, and had grown stronger and more staid. He had acquired a certain dignity of bearing, which well became him, and which commanded the respect of the artistic world; but in affection and gratitude to his parents he was the same Fritz, who in childhood and youth had delighted the hearts of his father and mother. The time sped very enjoyably, and the sad and trying parting hour came a great deal too soon for Frederic no less than for his affectionate father and tender mother. Again and again they clasped their beloved son in their arms, vainly endeavouring to banish the presentiment that they would never see him again in this world. And this was the last time that these good parents, whose constant care was for the welfare of their son, ever beheld him.
SHORT VISIT TO LEIPSIC. Frederic spent a few days at Leipsic on his return to Paris. His arrival had been expected, and of course there was a great excitement in artistic circles about the playing of so original and poetic a composer. The conflicting opinions about his works added to the interest of his visit. A letter from Frederic Wieck, father of the famous Clara, to Nauenburg, a music teacher at Halle, shows what a sensation the coming of Chopin created among the musicians of Leipsic.[23] It runs as follows:—
“Dearest Friend,
“I hasten to answer your letter of the 19th, which I received last evening. Banck returns to-morrow, so then we shall be altogether. Now for the musical news. The first subscription concert, under the direction of Mendelssohn, will take place on October 4th, the second on the 11th. To-morrow, or the next day, Chopin will arrive from Dresden, but probably he will not give a concert, for he is very lazy. He might have remained longer here, had he not been dissuaded by a false friend (a dog of a Pole) from making the acquaintance of the musical world of Leipsic; Mendelssohn, however, who is very friendly with Schumann and myself, will perform. According to a speech which Chopin made to a friend in Dresden he does not believe there is a lady in Germany who can play his compositions. We will see what Clara can do.”
There seems to me no justification for the ill-humour of the much-esteemed musical pedagogue, who is so uncomplimentary in his expressions and so hasty about the imaginary false friend. Chopin had not thought of giving a concert in Leipsic, as he was only passing through, and he had, moreover, a great dislike to performing in public. He was very pleased with the Leipsic artists, and played some of his own compositions to them at Mendelssohnʼs house; he also heard Clara Wieck, and was delighted with her poetical playing, and, astonished at the marvellous attainments of one so young, for whom he prophesied a brilliant future.
It is quite possible that Chopin may have doubted whether there was a lady in Germany capable of playing his compositions; but it is very unlikely that he should have said so, for he was always very gallant to ladies, and was, as we know, a sincere admirer of Fräulein Blahetkaʼs playing.
LETTER FROM MENDELSSOHN TO HIS SISTER.In a letter from Mendelssohn to his sister Fanny Henselt, we find the following:—
Leipsic, Oct. 6th, 1835.
.... The day after I left Henseltʼs for Delitzsch Chopin arrived there; he could only stay a day, so we spent the whole of it together and had music. I cannot help saying, dear Fanny, that I have recently discovered that your criticism did not do him justice; perhaps, as is often the case, he was not in the right humour when you heard him. I have once more been charmed by his playing, and I am convinced that if you and father had heard him perform some of his best compositions as he played them to me, you would say the same thing.
There is something so thoroughly original and masterly about his pianoforte playing, that he may be called a truly perfect virtuoso; and as I love perfection in any form, I spent a most agreeable, although a very different day from that with you at Henseltʼs. I was very glad to be once more with a thorough musician, not with those half virtuosi and half classists, who would like to unite in music “les honneurs de la vertu et les plaisirs du vice,” but with one who has a clearly defined aim, and although this may be the poles asunder from mine, I can get on with such a person capitally, but not with those half-and-half people. Sunday evening was really very remarkable when Chopin made me play over my oratorio to him, while curious Leipzigers stole into the room to see him, and when, between the first and second parts, he dashed into his new études and a new Concerto, to the amazement of the Leipzigers; and then I resumed my “St. Paul.” It was just as if a Cherokee and a Kaffir had met to converse.
He also played a sweetly pretty new nocturne, a good deal of which I have got by heart that I may please Paul by playing it to him. Thus we had a good time of it together, and he promised faithfully to return in the winter if I would compose a new symphony and give a performance of it in his honour; we pledged ourselves, in the presence of three witnesses, so we shall see whether we both keep our word.
This letter shows that Mendelssohn had no great antipathy to Chopinʼs compositions, and that he was much interested by many of them; Mademoiselle Ehlert, the authoress of “Musical Letters to a Friend,” is, therefore, wrong in placing Mendelssohn among Chopinʼs opponents. It has been said that Mendelssohn would not allow his pupils to play Chopinʼs compositions. As far as I know, the composer of “St. Paul” and “Elijah” had no time to give lessons, and it is quite understandable that he may not have recommended Chopinʼs works to the pupils of the Leipsic Conservatoire. But, with his love of justice, Mendelssohn felt it his duty to combat the objections of his sister, who had been educated on the old classic principles.
Chopinʼs second and last sojourn in Germany was in 1836. Under the pretext of trying a cure he went to Marienbad, and there his destiny was decided. Every flame, however fierce, must expire unless it receive nourishment. Constantia Gladkowska, whom the youthful Frederic had worshipped as a saint, married in Warsaw. When Chopin heard the news he was deeply grieved and even angry. But time, which heals all wounds, calmed his passionate spirit,
BETROTHED TO MARIA WODZYNSKI.Chopin met in Paris some young Poles of good family—the brothers Wodzynski, who had been at his fatherʼs pension. Through them he became acquainted with their sister Maria, a charming and amiable girl. He felt attracted towards her at first sight, and his interest gradually changed to ardent love. Knowing that in the middle of July she would be with her mother at Marienbad he went thither, full of hope and longing. Chopin soon discovered that Maria returned his affection, and they were engaged with the glad consent of their relatives. When they left Marienbad the Wodzynski family decided to spend a few weeks with Chopin at Dresden.
Frederic felt at this time at the topmost pinnacle of happiness, and his gay humour communicated itself to everyone around him. His friends, remembering the harmless but clever jokes he used to play in his youth during his visits to the country, rejoiced that the famous artist, the darling of Parisian drawing rooms, had so preserved his natural simplicity and loveable modesty. They would laughingly recall how often he used to take his sistersʼ delicate evening gloves when he could not afford to buy new ones for himself, and how he promised to send them gloves from Paris by the dozen; a promise which, as soon as he had made a position in that city, he conscientiously performed.
He would often mimic the playing of the most celebrated European virtuosi, imitating them even in the minutest details. He frequently played his mazurkas, which are full of a sweet melancholy, and then show how the rhythm must be shortened to adapt them for dancing. Directly the conversation turned upon his own family he grew serious; he was no longer the artist indulging his own wayward fancies, but the grateful son and affectionate brother. From infancy till death he had constantly received proofs of the tenderest affection, and his glowing and sensitive heart was bound to his parents and sisters by innumerable and indissoluble ties; he therefore suffered more from absence than many another.
When full of the hope of becoming a happy bridegroom, he formed a plan for leaving Paris, his second home, with all its fascinating charms, its glittering salons, the scene of so many of his triumphs, and returning to Poland. He wished to withdraw from the world and to settle in the country near his family in the neighbourhood of Warsaw; there he would establish schools for the people, and, without troubling himself about the public, quietly pursue his beloved art. With this idea in his mind, he bade, as he thought, a short adieu to his betrothed, and set off for Paris through Leipsic.
LETTER FROM SCHUMANN. Frederic wrote to Robert Schumann, who, having long desired to make his acquaintance, looked anxiously forward to his arrival. Chopin on his side was very pleased to have a chance of becoming acquainted with and personally expressing his regard for so famous a man. It was about this meeting that Schumann wrote the following letter to the Chapel-master, Heinrich Dorn:—
Leipsic, September, 6th, 1836.[24]
My very dear Sir,
The day before yesterday, just as I had received your letter and was about to answer it, who should walk in but Chopin. This was a great pleasure to me, and we spent a delightful day together.... I have got a new ballade of his; it seems to me the most pleasing but not the cleverest of his works (genialischtes nicht genialstes werk.) I told him I liked it best of all, and after a long pause he said, with much emphasis, “I am very glad you do, for it is my favourite also.”
He played also a host of new studies, nocturnes and mazurkas, all of them inimitable. The way in which he sits down to the piano is exceedingly impressive. You would be very pleased with his playing; yet Clara is a greater virtuosa than even he. Imagine to yourself perfection unconscious of its own merit.
Pleased with the warm reception of the German artist Chopin quitted Leipsic after having cast a garland on the monument of Prince Joseph Poniatowski.[25]
He was very busy with his own thoughts; he believed that his wandering life was now ended, and that with his new duties he would enter on a new career. Thinking of his lovely bride he soared on the rosy wings of fancy into an ideal land amidst images of indescribable happiness and blessed hope.
Rough reality, alas! aroused him from his delicious dreams, and inflicted a deep and painful wound upon his heart. Some time after his return to Paris, he learned that his bride had elected to marry a count instead of an artist. The consequences to Chopin were very serious: finding that his hopes of an ideal union were shattered, to wipe out and forget the insult he had received, he threw himself into the arms of a woman who exercised a very pernicious influence over him.
