Great Violinists and Pianists

by George T. Ferris

"To show the depth and identicalness of the impression which he made on everybody, foreign or native, an Italian who stood near me said to himself, with a long sigh, 'O Dio!' and this had not been said long, when another person in the same tone uttered 'Oh Christ!' Musicians pressed forward from behind the scenes to get as close to him as possible, and they could not sleep at night for thinking of him."

The impression made by Paganini was something more than that of a great, even the greatest, violinist. It was as if some demoniac power lay behind the human, prisoned and dumb except through the agencies of music, but able to fill expression with faint, far-away cries of passion, anguish, love, and aspiration—echoes from the supernatural and invisible. His hearers forgot the admiration due to the wonderful virtuoso, and seemed to listen to voices from another world. The strange rumors that were current about him, Paganini seems to have been not disinclined to encourage, for, mingled with his extraordinary genius, there was an element of charlatanism. It was commonly reported that his wonderful execution on the G-string was due to a long imprisonment, inflicted on him for the assassination of a rival in love, during which he had a violin with one string only. Paganini himself writes that, "At Vienna one of the audience affirmed publicly that my performance was not surprising, for he had distinctly seen, while I was playing my variations, the devil at my elbow, directing my arm and guiding my bow. My resemblance to the devil was a proof of my origin." Even sensible people believed that Paganini had some uncanny and unlawful secret which enabled him to do what was impossible for other players. At Prague he actually printed a letter from his mother to prove that he was not the son of the devil. It was not only the perfectly novel and astonishing character of his playing, but to a large extent his ghostlike appearance, which caused such absurd rumors. The tall, skeleton-like figure, the pale, narrow, wax-colored face, the long, dark, disheveled hair, the mysterious expression of the heavy eye, made a weirdly strange ensemble. Heine tells us in "The Florentine Nights" that only one artist had succeeded in delineating the real physiognomy of Paganini: "A deaf and crazy painter, called Lyser, has in a sort of spiritual frenzy so admirably portrayed by a few touches of his pencil the head of Paganini that one is dismayed and moved to laughter at the faithfulness of the sketch! 'The devil guided my hand,' said the deaf painter to me, with mysterious gesticulations and a satirical yet good-natured wag of the head, such as he was wont to indulge in when in the midst of his genial tomfoolery."

II.

Nicolo Paganini was born at Genoa on the night of February 18, 1784, of parents in humbly prosperous circumstances, his father being a ship-broker, and, though illiterate in a general way, a passionate lover of music and an amateur of some skill. The father soon perceived the child's talent, and caused him to study so severely that it not only affected his constitution, but actually made him a tolerable player at the age of six years. The elder Paganini's knowledge of music was not sufficient to carry the lad far in mastering the instrument, but the extraordinary precocity shown so interested Signor Corvetto, the leader at the Genoese theatre, that he undertook to instruct the gifted child. Two years later the young Paganini was transferred to the charge of Signor Giacomo Costa, an excellent violinist, and director of church music at one of the cathedrals, under whom he made rapid progress in executive skill, while he studied harmony and counterpoint under the composer Gnecco. It was at this time, Paganini not yet being nine years of age, that he composed his first piece, a sonata now lost. In 1793 he made his first appearance in public at Genoa, and played variations on the air "La Carmagnole," then so popular, with immense effect. This début was followed by several subsequent appearances, in which he created much enthusiasm. He also played a violin concerto every Sunday in church, an attraction which drew great throngs. This practice was of great use to Paganini, as it forced him continually to study fresh music. About the year 1795 it was deemed best to place the boy under the charge of an eminent professor, and Alessandro Rolla, of Parma, was pitched on. When the Paganinis arrived, they found the learned professor ill, and rather surly at the disturbance. Young Paganini, however, speedily silenced the complaints of the querulous invalid. The great player himself relates the anecdote: "His wife showed us into a room adjoining the bedroom, till she had spoken to the sick man. Finding on the table a violin and the music of Rolla's latest concerto, I took up the instrument and played the piece at sight. Astonished at what he heard, the composer asked for the name of the player, and could not believe it was only a young boy till he had seen for himself. He then told me that he had nothing to teach me, and advised me to go to Paër for study in composition." But, as Paër was at this time in Germany, Paganini studied under Ghiretti and Rolla himself while he remained in Parma, according to the monograph of Fetis.

The youthful player had already begun to search out new effects on the violin, and to create for himself characteristics of tone and treatment hitherto unknown to players. After his return to Genoa he composed his first "Études," which were of such unheard-of difficulty that he was sometimes obliged to practice a single passage ten hours running. His intense study resulted not only in his acquirement of an unlimited execution, but in breaking down his health. His father was a harsh and inexorable taskmaster, and up to this time Paganini (now being fourteen) had remained quiescent under this tyrant's control. But the desire of liberty was breeding projects in his breast, which opportunity soon favored. He managed to get permission to travel alone for the first time to Lucca, where he had engaged to play at the musical festival in November, 1798. He was received with so much enthusiasm that he determined not to return to the paternal roof, and at once set off to fulfill engagements at Pisa and other towns. In vain the angry and mortified father sought to reclaim the young rebel who had slipped through his fingers. Nicolo found the sweets of freedom too precious to go back again to bondage, though he continued to send his father a portion of the proceeds of his playing.

The youth, intoxicated with the license of his life, plunged into all kinds of dissipation, specially into gambling, at this time a universal vice in Italy, as indeed it was throughout Europe. Alternate fits of study and gaming, both of which he pursued with equal zeal, and the exhaustion of the life he led, operated dangerously on his enfeebled frame, and fits of illness frequently prevented his fulfillment of concert engagements. More than once he wasted in one evening the proceeds of several concerts, and was obliged to borrow money on his violin, the source of his livelihood, in order to obtain funds wherewith to pay his gambling debts. Anything more wild, debilitating, and ruinous than the life led by this boy, who had barely emerged from childhood, can hardly be imagined. On one occasion he was announced for a concert at Leghorn, but he had gambled away his money and pawned his violin, so that he was compelled to get the loan of an instrument in order to play in the evening. In this emergency he applied to M. Livron, a French gentleman, a merchant of Leghorn, and an excellent amateur performer, who possessed a Guarneri del Gesù violin, reputed among connoisseurs one of the finest instruments in the world. The generous Frenchman instantly acceded to the boy's wish, and the precious violin was put in his hands. After the concert, when Paganini returned the instrument to M. Livron, the latter, who had been to hear him, exclaimed, "Never will I profane the strings which your fingers have touched! That instrument is yours." The astonishment and delight of the young artist may be more easily imagined than described. It was upon this violin that Paganini afterward performed in all his concerts, and the great virtuoso left it to the town of Genoa, where it is now preserved in a glass case in the Museum. An excellent engraving of it, from a photograph, was published in 1875 in George Hart's book on "The Violin."

At this period of his life, between the ages of seventeen and twenty, Nicolo Paganini was surrounded by numerous admirers, and led into all kinds of dissipation. He was naturally amiable and witty in conversation, though he has been reproached with selfishness. There can be no doubt that he was, at this period, constantly under the combined influences of flattery and unbounded ambition; nevertheless, in spite of all his successful performances at concerts, the style of life he was leading kept him so poor that he frequently took in hand all kinds of musical work to supply the wants of the moment. It is a curious coincidence that the fine violin which was presented to him by M. Livron, as we have just seen, was the cause of his abandoning, after a while, the allurements of the gaming-tables. Paganini tells us himself that a certain nobleman was anxious to possess this instrument, and had offered for it a sum equivalent to about four hundred dollars; but the artist would not sell it even if one thousand had been offered for it, although he was, at this juncture, in great need of funds to pay off a debt of honor, and sorely tempted to accept the proffered amount. Just at this point Paganini received an invitation to a friend's house where gambling was the order of the day. "All my capital," he says, "consisted of thirty francs, as I had disposed of my jewels, watch, rings, etc.; I nevertheless resolved on risking this last resource, and, if fortune proved fickle, to sell my violin and proceed to St. Petersburg, without instrument or baggage, with the view of reestablishing my affairs. My thirty francs were soon reduced to three, and I already fancied myself on the road to Russia, when luck took a sudden turn, and I won one hundred and sixty francs. This saved my violin and completely set me up. From that day forward I gradually gave up gaming, becoming more and more convinced that a gambler is an object of contempt to all well-regulated minds."

III.

Love-making was also among the diversions which Paganini began early to practice. Like nearly all great musicians, he was an object of great fascination to the fair sex, and his life had its full share of amorous romances. A strange episode was his retirement in the country château of a beautiful Bolognese lady for three years, between the years 1801 and 1804. Here, in the society of a lovely woman, who was passionately devoted to him, and amid beautiful scenery, he devoted himself to practicing and composition, also giving much study to the guitar (the favorite instrument of his inamorata), on which he became a wonderful proficient. This charming idyl in Paganini's life reminds one of the retirement of the pianist Chopin to the island of Majorca in the company of Mme. George Sand. It was during this period of his life that Paganini composed twelve of his finest sonatas for violin and guitar.

When our musician returned again to Genoa and active life in 1804, he devoted much time also to composition. He was twenty years of age, and wrote here four grand quartets for violin, tenor, violoncello, and guitar, and also some bravura variations for violin with guitar accompaniment. At this period he gave lessons to a young girl of Genoa, Catherine Calcagno, about seven years of age; eight years later, when only fifteen years old, this young lady astonished Italian audiences by the boldness of her style. She continued her artistic career till the year 1816, when she had attained the age of twenty-one, and all traces of her in the musical world appear to be lost; doubtless, at this period she found a husband, and retired completely from public life.