Famous Violinists of To-day and Yesterday

by Henry Charles Lahee

Lafont was a prolific composer, but few of his works have survived. He was also the owner of a magnificent Guarnerius violin, which is now said to be the property of Adolf Brodsky.

As a composer Spohr probably influenced the modern style of violin playing even more than as a player, for he lifted the concerto to the dignity of a work of art, whereas it had formerly been simply a show piece, though not always without merit. He set a great example of purity of style and legitimate treatment of the instrument, and is considered to have had a more beneficial effect on violin playing than Paganini, who was born in the same year, 1784.

Louis Spohr was the son of a physician, who, two years after Louis was born at Brunswick, took up his residence at Seesen, where the childhood of the future virtuoso was passed. Both father and mother were musical, the former playing the flute, while the latter was a pianist and singer. It is said that young Spohr showed his talents remarkably early, and was able to sing duets with his mother when only four years of age. At five he began to learn the violin and at six he could take part in Kalkbrenner's trios. He also began to compose music, and under his father's methodical guidance acquired the habit of finishing everything that he began to write, without erasure or alteration. His instruction in the art of composition was confined to the mere rudiments, and he acquired the art chiefly by studying the scores of the great composers.

Spohr's first public appearance was at a school concert, and such was his success that he was asked to repeat the performance at a concert given by the duke's band. More study ensued, and then, at the age of fourteen, he undertook to make his first artistic tour, and set out for Hamburg, carrying with him some letters of introduction.

It seems that the people of Hamburg did not show much enthusiasm over the young artist, for he was unable to arrange a hearing, and, having exhausted his funds, he returned to Brunswick in the time-honoured manner of unsuccessful artists,—on foot. Spohr's experience seems to have produced upon him the same effect that many aspiring young players have since felt, viz., that he had better go on with his studies. He accordingly presented a petition to the Duke of Brunswick asking for means to carry out his desires. The duke was pleased with him, and not only gave him a place in his band, but also agreed to pay his expenses while he studied with one of the most eminent teachers of the day.

Neither Viotti nor Ferdinand Eck could receive him as a pupil, but by the advice of the latter, young Spohr was placed under his brother, Franz Eck, who was then travelling in Germany. With Franz Eck an agreement was made by the duke, under which Spohr should travel with him, and study en route. During the continuance of this agreement Spohr practised sometimes ten hours a day, and being so constantly with his teacher he made great progress. On his return to Brunswick he was appointed first violinist in the duke's band, and the following year he once more undertook a concert tour on his own account, travelling through Saxony and Prussia, and meeting with great enthusiasm.

While in Russia he met Clementi and Field, and he was presented with a most valuable Guarnerius violin by an enthusiast. This instrument he lost while on the way to France, where he intended to make a concert tour. Just before entering Göttingen the portmanteau which contained the violin was taken from the coach, and owing to the delays of officialism it was never recovered. The thieves had been seen with the booty in their possession, but in order to arrest them it was necessary to travel some nine miles for the necessary warrant and officer. In the meantime they had disappeared, as thieves occasionally do.

In 1805 Spohr was appointed concert-master in the band of the Duke of Gotha, and while holding this position he met, wooed, and wedded the Fraülein Dorothea Scheidler, an excellent harp player, who for many years afterwards appeared with him in all his concerts, and for whom he wrote many solo pieces as well as some sonatas for violin and harp. In view of this important step the following description of Spohr's personal appearance may be interesting: "The front of Jove himself is expressed in the expansive forehead, massive, high, and broad; the speaking eyes that glance steadfastly and clearly under the finely pencilled arches of the eyebrows, which add a new grace to their lustrous fire; the long, straight nose with sharply curved nostrils, imperial with the pride of sensibility and spiritual power; the firm, handsome mouth, and the powerful chin, with its strong outlines melted into the utter grace of oval curves. In its calmness and repose, in its subdued strength and pervading serenity, it is the picture of the man's life in little." Spohr seems to have been somewhat attractive.

Another authority tells us, in less flowery language, that he was of herculean frame and very strong constitution.

In 1807 he made a tour, with his wife, through Germany, and while at Munich the king showed his gallantry to Madame Spohr in a most gracious manner. The usher had neglected to place a chair on the platform for her, and the king handed up his own gilded throne chair, in spite of her protestations. The anecdote would be more satisfactory if it stated what the king sat upon during the concert, but that is left to the imagination. The king had some bad habits, and, we are told, was very fond of playing cards during the concerts. Spohr was not accustomed to having his audiences indulge in cards, and so informed the chamberlain, absolutely declining to play unless the cards were put aside for the time being. It was a delicate task that fell to the lot of the chamberlain, but he carried it through with the greatest diplomacy, each side making a slight concession: the king on his part promising to abstain from card playing during Spohr's performance on condition that the violinist's two pieces should immediately follow each other on the program, and Spohr withdrawing his embargo from the whole concert on condition that the king would abstain from his favourite amusement during his particular performance. The king, however, seems to have put in the last blow, for on the conclusion of the violin solos he gave no signal for applause, and as it would be a breach of court manners for any one to applaud without his Majesty's consent, the artist was obliged to make his bow and retire amidst deathly silence.