It is surely unnecessary to ask whether that artist is a genius who, in every form of his art, has produced masterpiece after masterpiece, of an originality which sets them above the achievements of all other ages, distinguished also by a wealth of originality and agreeableness that enslaves every hearer. The most fertile fancy, invention inexhaustible, a judgment so nice as to reject intuitively every irrelevant and jarring detail, unerring ingenuity in employing the most delicate and minute resources of his art, along with an unrivalled technique—these qualities, whose expression demands the outpouring of a man's whole soul, are the signboards of genius. The man who cannot find them in Bach's music either is not acquainted with it at all or knows it imperfectly. One needs to be steeped in it thoroughly to appreciate the genius of its author. For the greater the work the closer study is demanded for its apprehension. The butterfly method, a sip here and there, is of little use. But admirable as were the gifts Bach received [pg 148] from nature, he could never have become an accomplished genius had he not learned betimes to avoid the rocks on which many artists, some of them perhaps not less gifted than he, too often founder. I will communicate to the reader some scattered thoughts on the subject and conclude this essay with an indication of the characteristics of Bach's genius.
Even the largest natural gifts, coupled with the strongest propensity for a particular art, offer no more than fruitful soil on which that art may thrive by patient cultivation. Industry, the true begetter of every art and science, is an indispensable factor. Not only does it enable genius to master technique, but it stimulates the critical and reflective faculties also. The very ease with which genius acquires and applies the apparatus of musical composition frequently entices it to leap over root principles in its plunge into deeper waters, or to fly before its wings are grown. In such a case, unless genius is guided back to neglected fundamentals and forced to build itself upon the great examples of the past, it will inevitably expend its treasure uselessly and never attain to its promised dimensions. For it is an axiom, that real progress can never be made, nor the highest perfection be attained, if the foundations are insecure. If arduous heights are to be achieved, the easier obstacles must first be approached and overcome. Guided by his own [pg 149] inexperience no one ever can hope to become great. He must profit by the practice and example of others.
Bach did not founder on this rock. His soaring genius attended an equally ardent industry which incessantly impelled him, whenever he found his own equipment insufficient, to seek guidance from others. Vivaldi and his Concertos were the first from whom he sought counsel. From them he turned to the principal Organ and Clavier composers of the period. Nothing is more intellectually stimulating than counterpoint, and the composers Bach studied were distinguished by their mastery of it, as their fugal writing attests. Hence Bach's diligent study and imitation of them pointed his taste and imagination to perceive wherein himself was lacking and what steps were needed to take him farther in his art.
A second rock upon which genius often comes to grief is the public's undiscriminating applause. To be sure, I do not undervalue public approval or commend without reserve the remark of a Greek teacher to his pupil, “You performed badly, otherwise the audience would not have applauded you.” Yet it is none the less true that many artists are thrown off their balance by exaggerated and often unmerited plaudits, particularly in their early careers before they have acquired self-discipline and sound judgment. The public merely asks for what it can understand, whereas the true [pg 150] artist ought to aim at an achievement which cannot be measured by popular standards. How, then, can popular applause be reconciled with the true artist's aspirations towards the ideal? Bach never sought applause, and held with Schiller:
Kannst du nicht allen gefallen durch deine That und dein Kunstwerk,
Mach' es wenigen recht; vielen gefallen ist schlimm.[326]
Like every true artist, Bach worked to please himself in his own way, obeying the summons of his own genius, choosing his own subjects, and finding satisfaction only in the approval of his own judgment. He could count on the applause of all who understood good music, and never failed to receive it. Under what other conditions can sound works of art emerge? The composer who debases his muse to the popular mood either lacks real genius or, having it, abuses it. For to catch the ear of the public is not a difficult task and merely connotes an agreeable facility. Composers of that class are like artisans who frankly fashion their goods to suit their market. But Bach never condescended to such artifices. The artist, in his judgment, is the dictator of public taste, not its slave. If, as often happened, he was asked to write something simple for the Clavier [pg 151] he would answer, “I will do what I can.” He would choose an easy theme. But when he began to develop it he always found so much to say that the piece soon became anything but simple. If his attention was drawn to the fact, he would answer smilingly, “Practise it well and you will find it quite easy. You have as many good fingers on each hand as I have.” Nor was he prompted in this by mere contradictoriness, but exhibited the true artist spirit.
It was, in fact, the artist temperament that led Bach to make the great and sublime his goal. For that reason his music is not merely agreeable, like other composers', but transports us to the regions of the ideal. It does not arrest our attention momentarily but grips us the stronger the oftener we listen to it, so that after a thousand hearings its treasures are still unexhausted and yield fresh beauties to excite our wonder. Even the beginner who knows but the A B C of his art warms with pleasure when he hears Bach's music and can open his ear and heart to it. It was the true artist spirit, too, that guided Bach to unite majesty and grandeur of design with meticulous care for detail and the most refined elegance, characteristics which we rather seek, perhaps, in works whose object is merely to give pleasure. Bach held strongly that if the strands are imperfect, the whole design is faulty. His genius is sublime and impressive, and he never [pg 152] condescends to be frivolous even when he touches the lighter forms of art.
To conclude: it was the union of astounding genius and indefatigable application that enabled Bach to widen at every point the domain of musical expression. His successors have failed to maintain the art at the level to which he raised it. If Bach was more successful, if he was able to produce great work of convincing beauty and imperishable as a model for those who came after him, we owe it as much to his application as to his genius.
This man, the greatest orator-poet that ever addressed the world in the language of music, was a German! Let Germany be proud of him! Yes, proud of him, but worthy of him too!
