But what is all this in comparison with the effect when the artist takes his own pencil and depicts these scenes in music, the spirit of which re-echoes them all. When Salvator Rosa dashes off his passionately excited scenes from nature, his bold conceptions of bandit characteristics, and other weird pictures of outdoor life and its accessories, as if they were living figures passing before us, we can not help realizing that he must have actually lived among the robbers. The artist has given us his own account of this unpolluted nature and her children. Our musical picture-gallery has been remarkably enriched with his “Hungarian Rhapsodies,” in which he has successfully painted in tones all that life which he has sketched in words and thus has preserved it to the world of art. The “Hungarian Fantasy,” for piano and orchestra, and the stately symphonic poem, “Hungaria,” give us a memorial picture of this animated Hungarian life, so full of strange power and extreme contrasts, with which also, in this regard, the nature-world of the gypsies was fully identified. It was important to give a definite description of it, for it seems in this connection above all else necessary to furnish the details and essentials of a music, which, in contrast with our European musical creations in their accepted forms, is a world in itself, in harmony, rhythm, melody and instrumentation, and one which we recognize as wonderfully fanciful and rich in color and yet full of the germs of life. Did we not possess the inimitable magic of that web of nature in Shakespeare’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” we should declare that in the artistic presentation of the wonderful poetry of absolute nature, these works of Liszt, based upon the gypsy music, were the most poetical of all. At all events, by the side of these picturesque, genre pictures, they suffer but little in power, delicacy and reality, and we may call them studies made directly from nature.
CHAPTER III.
CAPRICCIOSO.
Untamable Animals and Men—An Interesting Test—Attempt to Refine a Gypsy—The Boy Josy—Bought from the Gypsies—His Advent in Liszt’s Salon—Thalberg’s Astonishment—Adopted by the Master—Attempts to Educate him—A Hopeless Task—Josy becomes a Fop—His Insolence and Conceit—Liszt Despondent—Josy goes to the Conservatory—Worse and Worse—Sent to the Black Forest—No better—Liszt’s Encounter with a Traveling Band—Josy’s Brother Intercedes for his Return—Liszt Consents—Great Joy—Josy Settles at Debrezin—Violinist in a Gypsy Band—Letter to Liszt—His Love and Devotion.
It is well known that there are animals who are never tamable for any length of time and it is none the less interesting to know that an untamableness of nature just as absolute is a human characteristic, and belongs to beings of our own kind, who inconsistently throw away all the benefactions and blessings of a fixed existence and culture, content to secure the inexhaustible bounty of nature and enjoy the simplest form of human existence. It is that people “which draws water from every stream of earth and eats bread from all its furrows.” Liszt, who had found the way to them by his earnest desire to witness their actual life, has given us an illustration of this feature of their untamableness and contempt for all our blessings of culture, which, when closely considered, leads us to reflect upon the real nature of our culture. In parts it is very amusing and again it is almost pathetically humorous, revealing to us the nature of human existence in all its varying moods. We may observe this from a psychological standpoint and thus save ourselves the necessity of character-description.
Would not continual kindness of treatment at last overcome this innate wantonness of the gypsy nature? Might not one by carefully fostering their music, that exotic plant, that special gift of theirs, so brilliant in its first radiance, develop it to a fuller growth in the atmosphere of civilization and improve its beauty? These were the questions which for a long time had impressed themselves upon the manly feelings and the kindly spirit of the great artist, as well as upon his deep concern for and earnest sympathy with all true and genuine things and with the immortal nature of all the spontaneous outgrowths of his art.
It was in Paris, about the beginning of 1840, and at a time also when Liszt’s attention was not much given to the gypsies, that one morning his dear friend, Count Sandor Teleky, came in, accompanied by a twelve-year-old lad, in a hussar jacket and broad laced trowsers, with dark brown complexion, wildly waving hair, a bold look, and a demeanor as haughty as if he were about to challenge all the kings of the world. He had a violin in his hands. “See,” said the Count, as he pushed the lad toward him by the shoulders, “I bring you a present.” Great was the astonishment of all the guests at a scene so strange for Frenchmen to witness. Among these guests was that great artist, who was at that time, notwithstanding Liszt’s abilities, called in Paris, “the greatest,” until one who had closely watched the rivalry between them settled it in a word: “Thalberg is the first but Liszt is the only one.” It was Thalberg who could not refrain from asking what he intended to do with this gift.
Liszt himself was surprised. He had not thought for a long time of the wish he had expressed, when in Hungary, of finding a young gypsy with a talent for the violin which he might further develop, but he guessed as soon as he looked upon this slim, nervous and evidently quarrelsome little being that his desire for a young “Cygan” and countryman had been gratified. In fact, the Count on leaving Hungary had left instructions on his estates, since they had sought in vain while he was there, that in the event of finding such a young man he should be sent direct to Paris. The impetuous youngster, whom he now introduced to Liszt, had been discovered a short time before on his possessions, and had been purchased and forwarded to him as a token of friendly affection.
Liszt kept the boy continually near him and naturally took keen pleasure in watching the development of his emotions and humors amid his new surroundings. Insolence was the strongest characteristic of his nature, and it displayed itself in the most diverse ways, by a thousand naive and childish frivolities. To steal out of greediness, to continually hug the women, to break every object whose mechanism he did not understand, were very inconvenient but natural faults which might have corrected themselves. It was not easy, however, to deal with them as they continually broke out in new directions. In these circles which included acute psychological observers, like Balzac and George Sand, “Josy” soon became a little lion and his private concerts kept his purse well filled. The money which came in so abundantly he flung away recklessly and with all the prodigality of a magnate. The first object of his attention was the adorning of his own little person. His coquetry was beyond belief and even went so far as affected vanity. He must always have plenty of beautiful little canes, breast-pins and watch-chains by him, and of various kinds. His cravats and vests could not be too showy in colors and no hair-dresser was too good to curl his locks. To become an Adonis was the great problem of his existence, but in his attempt to solve it, one pang gnawed at his heart and poisoned his peace. In contrast with those about him, his complexion was so brown and yellow! He thought that by the active application of soap and oil, such as he had seen employed with great success in acquiring that enviable possession, a beautiful color, he could overcome his misfortunes, and he continually provided himself with them. He visited the best shops and bought everything he thought would answer for that purpose, always throwing down five franc pieces, for he was much too fine a gentleman to take any change.
It soon became impossible to do anything with him. In all the friendly circles of his adopted father, he swelled about, a full flown dandy. On the eve of taking his journey to Spain, Liszt gave him over to the violin professor of the Paris Conservatory. He promised to give the utmost attention to his astonishing musical talent, while the superintendent of a school, in which meanwhile the boy was placed, undertook to cultivate him mentally and morally. All accounts from him, however, more and more confirmed Liszt’s doubts of the success of these educational schemes. In music it was specially useless to try and keep him within any practical bounds. He had the utmost contempt for everything that he did not know, and without directly asserting it, in his own estimation he was convinced of his superiority to everything about him. Like a genuine “savage” he was interested only in his own pleasures, his own violin and his own music, and had no desire for anything else.
When Count Teleky brought him in, in his Hungarian gypsy costume, he had still his own violin. Upon this little wooden shell, poorly glued together, covered with strings which seemed better adapted for hanging oneself than for playing, he played even then the liveliest dances with remarkable aplomb and unsurpassed vigor. His perceptions never failed him and he played very willingly. He could perform for hours partly by ear and partly improvising and was very reluctant to make use of the melodies which he had heard among his associates. For the most part they were dull and insipid to him, but he was very partial to the melodies which he had heard Liszt play many times, and he would often regale his own audience with them, ornamenting them, however, in such a droll fashion that they never failed to set every one in a cheerful mood. As soon, however, as he was obliged to undertake actual study, he became refractory and would have nothing to do with it. No one could convince him that his own methods were not finer than any they could teach him and he lived in the fullest conviction that he was the victim of barbarous coercion whenever his teacher in the least complained that he was unwilling to be instructed by him.