And loud alarums rung by hands unseen,
It is the tocsin of his town he hears.”
Because of their long inheritance of good musical taste, the public of modern Brussels had the reputation of being the most difficult to please of any. Even London and Paris audiences seemed less critical, and a triumph in Brussels was a triumph indeed. The audience was usually made up of thoroughly educated musicians who went to concerts seriously. Both Calvé and Melba made their débuts there.
EUGENE YSAYE.
But much of Brussels’ musical renown was due to the presence there of the two great masters of the violin—Thompson and Ysaye. The former is less known in this country than Ysaye, who has had great success here and is a popular favourite in England as well. But he himself considers Thompson his superior, and certainly the latter is acknowledged to be the greatest living master of technique.
Both men came from Liège, in the Walloon country, and both have been head of the violin department in the Conservatoire in Brussels. When Ysaye resigned a few years ago, Thompson took his place. (The Conservatoire, by the way, was subsidized by the Government and was entirely for the service of the people. The aristocracy did not send their children there, employing members of the faculty to come to their homes instead.) Unlike so many great men, Ysaye was honoured in his own country, and appreciated and adored by his own people. He was especially adored by his pupils, who considered him a sort of god.
When Thompson played in Boston he was not appreciated. He admits that he has stage fright, and when appearing before a large audience becomes frozen and fails to play at his best. He is a master of counterpoint, and an authority on ancient music. Although a fine teacher, he sometimes becomes sarcastic, and his pupils do not worship him as Ysaye’s do. His son served in the Belgian army and at last accounts was convalescing from a wound, in an English hospital.
We attended a wonderful performance of “Götterdämmerung,” which began at half-past five and lasted all the evening. An American woman, Madame Walker, sang remarkably well. The opera was very good, and Friday night was the fashionable time to attend, when it was generally crowded.
One morning we went to the “Concours de Violons” at the Conservatoire. The playing was of a high order and the enthusiasm of the crowded audience tremendous. The judges sat in one of the stage boxes and the competitions began at nine, all the pupils playing the same piece in succession. Each competitor came out and stood on the stage alone, save for her accompanist and her teacher, and played for some fifteen minutes, facing the jury and the critical crowd.