HIS GREAT JOURNEY.
Warsaw, September 12th, 1829.
Dearest Titus,
You would not have heard from me, if I had not met Vicentius Skarbek, and thereby been reminded that you would be in Warsaw by the end of this month. I hoped that I should have been able to tell you personally of my GREAT JOURNEY, for truly and sincerely I should only be too glad to have a chat with you. But as this is unfortunately impossible, let me tell you, dear, that I have been to Cracow, Vienna, Prague, Dresden and Breslau.
We passed the first week at Cracow in taking walks, and visiting the neighbourhood. Ojcow is very beautiful; but I shall not say anything, for although you were not there, you know all about it from Tanskaʼs accurate descriptions. I had good company on my way to Vienna; if Cracow made so many demands upon me that I could not find a few moments to think of you and my family, Vienna so utterly stupefied and infatuated me, that, although a fortnight passed without my receiving a letter from home, I felt no longing for my friends. Just imagine my playing twice in the Royal and Imperial Theatre in so short a time. This is how it came about: my publisher Haslinger represented to me that it would be of advantage to my compositions if I were to appear in Vienna; that my name was as yet unknown, and my music difficult both to play and understand.
I did not yet think of it seriously, and replied:
“That I had not played a note for a fortnight, and so was not prepared to present myself before a select and critical public.” In the meantime Count Gallenberg, who writes pretty ballets, and is manager of the Vienna theatre, came in. Haslinger introduced me to him as a coward, afraid of appearing in public. The Count very obligingly placed the theatre at my disposal, but I was shrewd enough to decline, with thanks. The next day Würfel came in, and urged me not to bring disgrace on my parents, Elsner, and myself by neglecting the opportunity of performing in Vienna.
As soon as I had yielded to all this pressure, Würfel at once undertook the necessary preparations. The next morning bills announced my concert. It was impossible, therefore, to retreat, although I did not know how or what I should play. Three manufacturers proposed to send me pianos, but, owing to the narrow limits of my lodgings, I was obliged to refuse their offers. What would have been the use either of my practising a great deal two days before the concert?
In one day I made the acquaintance of all the great artists in Vienna, among them Mayseder, Gyrowetz, Lachner, Kreutzer, Schuppanzigh, &c.
DÉBUT IN VIENNA. The members of the orchestra looked sourly at me during the rehearsal; they were particularly vexed at my making my débût with new compositions. Then I began the Variations dedicated to you, which were to come after the Rondo Cracovienne. The Variations were a success, but the Rondo, owing to the way in which it was written, went so badly that we were obliged to commence from the beginning twice. I ought to have put the pauses below instead of above. Enough; the gentlemen made such wry faces that I felt very much inclined to announce myself ill in the evening.
Demmar, the manager, noticed the ill-temper of the orchestra, who do not like Würfel. The latter wished to conduct himself, but the orchestra declined (I donʼt know why) to play under his lead. Herr Demmar advised me to improvise, at which proposal the orchestra stared. I was so much irritated by what had happened that I consented in despair; and who knows whether my miserable mood and strange humour were not the cause of the great success I achieved?
The presence of the Viennese public did not excite me at all, and I sat down, very calmly, to a wonderful instrument of Graffʼs, the best, perhaps, then in Vienna. Beside me sat a young man, covered with rouge, who had turned over for me in the Variations, and plumed himself on having rendered the same service to Moscheles, Hummel, and Herz. I played, as you may imagine, in a desperate mood; the Variations, nevertheless, made such an effect that I was encored enthusiastically. Fräulein Veltheim sang very beautifully. As to my Improvisation I only know that it was followed by a storm of applause and many recalls.
The Vienna newspapers were lavish in their praise. By universal desire I played again a week after, congratulating myself that no one could say now that I was only able to appear once. I was especially pleased with the performance of the Rondo, because Gyrowetz, Lachner, and other masters, and even the orchestra were so delighted—forgive me for saying so—that they recalled me twice. I was obliged to repeat the Variations (at the special request of the ladies); Haslinger, too, was so pleased with them that he is going to bring them out in Odeon; a great honour for me, is it not?
Lichnowski, one of Beethovenʼs friends, wished to lend me his piano for the concert (this is, indeed, something), as it seemed to him that mine was too weak. But this was on account of my style of playing, which pleased the ladies so much; especially Fräulein Blahetka. It might be that she is favourably disposed towards me (by the way, she is not yet twenty, a lovely and intelligent girl). At my departure she honoured me by a composition, with an inscription in her own handwriting.
The Wiener Zeitung said, in a notice of the second concert, “This is a young man who knows how to please by entirely original means. His style differs totally from that of the ordinary concert giver.” I hope this is satisfactory, especially as the article concludes, “Herr Chopin to-day again received the most unanimous applause.” Pardon me for writing such an opinion of myself, but I do so because it pleases me more than any amount of praise in the Warsaw Courier.
I became quite intimate with Czerny, and often played with him on two pianos. He is a good-natured man, but nothing more. Klengel, whom I saw at Pixisʼs, in Prague, I like best of all my artistic acquaintances. He played his fugues to me (one might call them a continuation of Bachʼs, there are forty-eight, and as many canons.) What a contrast to Czerny! Klengel gave me a letter of introduction to Morlacchi, in Dresden. We visited the Saxon Switzerland, so rich in natural beauties, and the magnificent picture gallery; but the Italian Opera had to be given up before my very eyes. I was, unfortunately, obliged to leave the day on which “Crociato in Egitto” was to be performed. My only consolation was that I had already heard it in Vienna.
STAY IN DRESDEN. Frau Pruszak, and her two children, Alexandrine and Constantin, are in Dresden. I met them the day I left. What a pleasure! They called out, “Pan Frycek, Pan Frycek;”[46] it was so charming that I should certainly have stayed but for my companions. Herr Pruszak I met at Teplitz. Teplitz is a wonderfully beautiful place. I was only there a day, but went to a soirée at Prince Claryʼs.
I have been too much absorbed in my writing to be able to stop. I affectionately embrace you, and kiss your lips, if you allow me.
Your FREDERIC.
Warsaw, October 3rd, 1829.
Dearest Titus,
You write that you have read something about my concerts in two newspapers; if they were Warsaw papers, you could certainly not have been gratified, for not only is their translation bad, but they have taken the trouble to distort, to my disparagement, the comments of the Viennese critics. The Vienna Sammler and the Zeitschrift für Literatur, from which Hube brought me the extracts, made the most flattering criticisms on my playing and compositions (pardon me for writing this to you), and called me, in conclusion, “An independent virtuoso, full of delicacy and the deepest feeling.”[47] If such extracts had fallen into your hands I should have no occasion to be ashamed.
You will learn from me bye and bye what I think of doing this winter. In no case shall I remain in Warsaw; where fate will lead me I do not yet know. Prince and Princess Radziwill have, in the most polite manner, invited me to Berlin, and offered me apartments in their palace; but of what use would this be? I have begun so much work that it would seem the wisest course for me to remain here. I have also promised to return to Vienna, and a Vienna paper openly declared that a sojourn in the Imperial city would be very advantageous to me, and have the best influence on my career.
CHOPINʼS IDEAL. You will, perhaps, think so too; but do not imagine that I am thinking about Fräulein Blahetka, whom I mentioned in my letter. I have already—to my misfortune, perhaps—found my ideal, which I sincerely and loyally worship. Half a year has passed without exchanging a syllable with her of whom I dream every night. While thinking of this lovely being I composed the Adagio in my new Concerto,[48] and early this morning the Waltz, which I send you. Notice the passage marked +, nobody knows of it but yourself. How glad I should be if I could play my newest compositions to you, my dear friend. In the fifth bar of the Trio, the melody in the bass must rise to the higher E flat in the violin cleff, which, however, I need not tell you, for you will feel it for yourself.
I have no other news to send than that every Friday there is music at Kesslerʼs. Yesterday they played, among other things, Spohrʼs Octett, a wonderful work. I go to Brzezinaʼs[49] every day; he has nothing new but Pixisʼs Concerto which made no great impression on me; the Rondo seems the best part of it. You cannot imagine how dull Warsaw looks. If it were not for the happiness I find with my family I could not live here.
Oh, how miserable it is to have no one to share your sorrows and joys, and, when your heart is heavy, to have no soul to whom you can pour out your woes. You know very well what I mean. How often do I communicate to my piano all that I would confide to you.
My friend, you must change into a delightful reality my dream of travelling with you abroad. I do not know what I should do for joy. But, alas, our ways lie wide apart.
I hope to go to Italy, from Vienna, for my further improvement, and next winter I am to meet Hube in Paris; but everything may be altered, as my kind father would like me to go to Berlin, for which, to say the truth, I have no great desire. If, as I trust, I go to Vienna, I shall, perhaps, choose the way through Dresden and Prague, to visit Klengel again; also the famous picture gallery and the Conservatoire.
I must now leave off, or I shall only weary you with my dry news, and I do not want to do that. If you would only write me a few lines, it would give me pleasure for several weeks. Forgive me for sending you the Waltz, which will make you angry with me in the end. My intention is to please you.
Your FREDERIC.
The favourable critiques in the Vienna newspapers of Chopinʼs playing awakened universal interest in Warsaw, and caused his father to take counsel with Elsner and other friends about Fredericʼs further training. All agreed on sending the young artist for a longer sojourn abroad. Warsaw offered, indeed, little artistic stimulus to Chopinʼs extraordinary abilities; he passed there for a perfect artist. His compositions, published in Warsaw, are among the best he ever wrote, and if his creative talent grew and matured in later years, his early works bear the true Chopin stamp.
PROPOSED TOUR TO PARIS AND ITALY. Elsnerʼs advice was that Chopin should go to Italy first, then to Paris, and so be away two years in all. From letters to his friend, Titus Woyciechowski, who now resides at his estate Poturzyn, in Poland, and who very kindly furnished these letters, we learn from Frederic himself how he passed the next few years. It is most fortunate for us that his most intimate friend has religiously preserved, as sacred memorials, every line of the talented artist.
Warsaw, October 20th, 1829.
My Dearest Titus,
You wonʼt know how to make out why such a writing mania has suddenly seized me, and how it is that, in so short a time, I send you a third letter.
I start at seven this evening, per diligence, for Wiesiowlowskiʼs, in Posen, and so write to you beforehand, not knowing how long I shall stay there, though I have only got a passport for a month. My idea is to return in about a fortnight. The object of my journey is to see Prince Radziwill, who is living at his estate not far from Kalitz. He wishes me to go to Berlin, and live as a guest in his house, &c.; but I cannot see that it would be of any real, that is to say, artistic use. “Mit grossen Herren ist nicht gut Kirschen essen.”
My good father will not believe that these invitations are merely des belles paroles.
Forgive me if I repeat myself. I easily forget what I have written, and often fancy I am giving you news which is really stale.
Kessler gives a musical soirée every Friday; nearly all the artists here meet together, and play whatever is brought forward, prima vista; so, for example, there were performed, last Friday: Concerto in C sharp minor, by Ries, with quartet accompaniment; then Trio in E major, by Hummel; Beethovenʼs last Trio, which I thought magnificent and impressive; also a Quartet, by Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia, alias Dussek;[50] and singing to conclude with.
Elsner has praised my Concerto Adagio. He says there is something new in it. As for the Rondo I do not want any opinion on that at present, for I am not satisfied with it myself. I wonder whether I shall finish it when I return.
Thank you very much for your letter, which pleased me exceedingly. You have the happy gift of cheering and delighting one. You cannot imagine how despondent I was in the morning, and how my spirits rose when I received your letter. I embrace you warmly. Many write this at the end of their letters and scarcely think about it; but you know, dearest friend, that I do it sincerely, as truly as I am called “Fritz.” I have composed a Study in my style; when we meet again I will play it to you.
Your faithful
FREDERIC.
Warsaw, Sunday, November 14th, 1829.
Dearest Titus,
VISIT TO PRINCE RADZIWILL. I received your last letter at Radziwillʼs, at Antonin. I was there a week, and you cannot think how quickly and pleasantly the time passed. I travelled back by the last Post, and had great trouble to get away. As for myself I could have stayed there till I was driven away, but my occupations, and, above all, my concerto, which still impatiently awaits its Finale, forced me to quit Paradise.
My dear Titus, there were three daughters of Eve there; the young princesses, extremely amiable, musical, and kind-hearted; and the Princess, their mother, who knows quite well that the value of a man does not depend on his descent, is so lady-like and amiable towards everyone that it is impossible not to honour her.
You know what a lover of music the Prince is. He showed me his “Faust,” and I found much that is really beautiful in it; some parts, indeed, show considerable intellectual power. Between ourselves, I certainly should not have accredited a Stadtholder with such music. I was struck, among other things, by the scene where Mephistopheles allures Margaret to the window, by playing the guitar and singing outside her house, while a Chorale is heard at the same time in the neighbouring church. This is sure to produce a great sensation. I only mention this to give you an idea of his style. He is also a great admirer of Gluck. In the drama, he only gives importance to music in so far as it depicts the situation or the feelings, therefore the Overture has no conclusion, but leads directly to the introduction. The orchestra is always invisible, placed behind the stage,[51] so as not to distract the attention by such externals as the conducting, the movements of the musicians, &c.
TEACHING A PRINCESS. I wrote an “Alla Polacca,” with ʼcello accompaniment during my visit to Prince Radziwill. It is nothing more than a brilliant drawing-room piece—suitable for the ladies. I should like Princess Wanda to practice it. I am supposed to have given her lessons. She is a beautiful girl of seventeen, and it was charming to direct her delicate fingers. But, joking apart, she has real musical feeling, and does not need to be told when to play crescendo, piano, or pianissimo. Princess Elise was so much interested in my Polonaise (F minor) that I could not refuse to send for it. Please let me have it by return of post. I did not wish to be thought impolite, but I should not like to write it out of my head again, my dearest, for I should, perhaps, make it very different from the original. You can picture to yourself the character of the Princess from her having me play the Polonaise to her every day. The Trio in A flat major always pleases her particularly.[52] She wishes me much to go to Berlin in May, so nothing stands in the way of my going to Vienna in the Winter. It does not seem likely that I shall get off before December. Papaʼs birthday is on the sixth, which I shall, in any case, keep with him. I do not think of starting till the middle of December. I hope also to see you again.
You would not believe what a blank I feel in Warsaw just now. I have no one to whom I can speak a couple of really confidential words. You want one of my portraits. I certainly would have sent it you if I could have stolen one from Princess Elise, who has two in her album, which, I am assured are very faithful likenesses; but you, my dearest, need no picture of me. Believe me, I am always with you and will never forget you to the end of my life.
I remind you once more of the Polonaise; please send it by return. I have written some studies; I should play them well in your presence. Last Saturday, Kessler played Hummelʼs E major Concerto, at the Ressource. Next Saturday, perhaps, I shall play; I shall choose the Variations dedicated to you.
Your faithful
FREDERIC.
Warsaw, March 27th, 1830.
I never missed you so much as now. I have no one to whom I can pour out my heart. A single look from you, after the concert, would be more to me than the praise of all the critics here. Immediately on the receipt of your letter, I wanted to describe my first concert to you; but I was so distracted and busy with preparations for the second, which took place on Monday, that I was not capable of collecting my thoughts. I am not, indeed, in a much better mood to-day, but I cannot delay the sending of this letter any longer, for the post goes, and who knows when my mind will be at rest again?
THE FIRST CONCERT IN VIENNA. The first concert, for which three days before there was neither box nor stall to be had, did not, on the whole, make the impression I had expected. The first Allegro of the F. minor concerto (not intelligible to everyone) was indeed rewarded with a bravo, but this was, I think, because the public wished to show that it knew how to understand and appreciate earnest music. In every country there are plenty of people who readily assume the airs of connoisseurs. The Adagio and Rondo made a great effect and were followed by the heartiest applause and shouts of bravo. But the Potpurri on Polish songs[53] completely missed its mark. They applauded indeed, but, evidently, only to show the player they were not wearied with him.
Kurpinski[54] thought he discovered fresh beauties in my concerto that evening. Ernemann was entirely satisfied. Elsner regretted that my piano was not stronger, the bass being, as he thought, not heard clearly enough.
Those sitting in the gallery or standing in the orchestra appear to have been most satisfied; there were complaints in the pit of the playing being too soft. I should very much like to know the gossip about me at “Kopciuszek.”[55] In consequence of the remarks in the pit, Mochnacki, after highly praising me—especially for the Adagio in the Polish Courier—advised me, for the future, to use more power and energy. I knew quite well where this power lay, so at the second concert I did not play on my own but on a Vienna instrument. This time the audience, again very large, were perfectly content. The applause knew no bounds, and I was assured that every note rang out like a bell, and that I played much more finely than before. When I appeared, in reply to a recall, they called out “give another concert.” The Cracovienne produced a tremendous sensation; there were four rounds of applause. Kurpinski regretted that I had not played the Polish Fantasia on the Vienna piano, a remark which Grzymala repeated the other day in the Polish Courier. Elsner says I could not be properly judged of until after the second concert. I confess, candidly, that I would rather have played on my own instrument. The Vienna piano was generally regarded as more appropriate to the size of the building.
PROGRAMME OF THE FIRST CONCERT. You know what the programme of the first concert was.[56] The second began with a Symphony by Nowakowski[57] (par complaisance) followed by a repetition of the first Allegro of my Concerto. Then the Theatre Concert-master, Bulawski, played an Air Varié, by Beriöt, and I, my Allegro and Rondo again. The second part commenced with the Rondo Cracovienne. Meier sang an air from Solivaʼs opera, “Helene and Malvina,” and, in conclusion, I improvised on the Volkslied “W—miescie dziwne obyczaje,” (there are strange customs in the town) which very much pleased the people in the first rows. To be candid I must say that I did not improvise as I had intended, but, perhaps, that would not have been so well suited to the audience. I wonder that the Adagio pleased so generally; from all I hear, it is with reference to this that the most flattering observations have been made. You must have read the newspapers, and you will see that the public were very pleased with me.
A poem, addressed to me, and a large bouquet were sent to my house. Mazurkas and Waltzes are being arranged on the principal themes from my Concerto. Brzezina asked for my likeness, but I declined giving it. This would be too much all at once, besides I do not like the prospect of butter being wrapped up in the paper on which I am pourtrayed, as was the case with Lelewelʼs portrait.
Wishes are expressed on all sides that I should give a third concert, but I have no desire to do so. You would not believe the excitement one has to go through for some days before the performance. I hope to finish the first Allegro of the second Concerto before the vacation, so I shall wait, at any rate, till after Easter, although I am convinced that I should have a larger audience than ever this time; for the “haute volée” have hardly heard me at all yet. At the last concert a stentorian voice called out from the pit, “Play at the Town Hall,” but I doubt whether I shall follow this advice; if I play again, it will be in the theatre. It is not a question of PROCEEDS OF THE CONCERTS. receipts with me, for the Theatre did not bring me in much. (The cashier, to whom everything was left, did as he liked.) From both concerts, after all expenses had been deducted, I did not receive quite 5,000 gulden,[58] although Dmuszewski, editor of the Warsaw Courier, stated that no concert had been so crowded as mine. Besides, the Town Hall, where the anxieties and arrangements would be many, would not please everyone. Dobrzynski[59] is vexed with me for not performing his symphony. Frau W. took it amiss that I did not reserve a box for her, &c., &c.
I close this letter unwillingly, because I feel as if I had not told you anything interesting yet. I have reserved all for the desert which is nothing more than a warm embrace.
Your FREDERIC.
Warsaw, May 15th, 1830.
You will certainly have wondered that Fritz did not answer your letter by return of post; but as I could not immediately give the information you asked for I delayed writing till to-day.
Now listen, my dearest, Henrietta Sonntag is coming to Warsaw in June, or, perhaps, at the end of May. I am sure you will not neglect the opportunity of hearing her. Oh, how thankful I am for it. She must be in Danzig now, and from there she comes to us. We have several concerts in prospect. Little Worlitzer, pianist to the King of Prussia, has already been here a fortnight. He plays very finely, and being of Jewish descent, has many natural gifts. He has been with me; he is just sixteen; some of the things he played at our house went famously. His best performance is Moschelesʼs Variations on the Alexander March. He really plays those excellently. You would like his style and manner of playing, although—this to you only—he still lacks much to deserve his title of Chamber Virtuoso. There is also a French pianist here, Monsieur Standt. He intended giving a concert, but seems lately to have relinquished the idea.
It is an agreeable piece of musical news that Herr Blahetka, father of the pianiste in Vienna, will, if I advise him, come here, when the Diet meets, and give some concerts. But my position is a difficult one; the man wants to make money, and if it happens that his hopes are not fulfilled, he will be angry with me. I answered immediately that I had often been asked whether he would not come, and that many musicians and lovers of music would be glad to hear his daughter; but I did not conceal from him that Sonntag would be here, that Lipinski was coming, that we have only one theatre, and that the expenses of a concert amount to at least 100 thalers. He cannot say now that I did not properly inform him of the state of things. It is very possible that he will come. I should be very glad, and would do all in my power to get a full house for his daughter. I would willingly also play with her on two pianos; for you would not believe how kindly her father interested himself for me in Vienna.
THE NEW CONCERTO. I do not know yet when I shall commence my journey. I shall probably be here during the hot months. The Italian Opera does not begin in Vienna till September, so I have no occasion to hurry. The Rondo for the new Concerto is not ready yet. I have not been in the right mood to finish it. When the Allegro and Adagio are quite done with, I shall not be in any anxiety about the Finale.
The Adagio in E major is conceived in a romantic, quiet, half melancholy spirit. It is to give the impression of the eye resting on some much loved landscape which awakens pleasant recollections, such as a lovely spring moon-light night. I have written for the violins to accompany con sordini. Will that have a good effect? Time will show.
Write and tell me when you are coming back to Warsaw, for it would be worse than it was the first time if I had to give my concert without you. You do not know how I love you. Oh, if I could only prove it! What would I not give to be able to embrace you heartily once again.
Warsaw, August 21st, 1830.
This is my second letter to you. You will scarcely think it possible, but so it is.
I wrote to you directly after my prosperous return to Warsaw, but as my parents stopped at Count Skarbekʼs, at Zelazowa Wola, I, of course stopped too, and in the hurry forgot to post my letter. But there is nothing bad in the world that has not some good in it.
Perhaps I shall not weary you so much with this as with the last letter, when I had the image of your quiet country life, which I had just quitted, constantly before my eyes. I may say, truly, that I recall it with delight; I always feel a certain longing after your beautiful country seat. I do not forget the weeping willow, that Arbaleta! Oh, with what pleasure do I remember it! You have teased me enough about it to punish me for all my sins. Let me tell you what I have done since you left, and what is settled about my departure.
CONSTANTIA GLADKOWSKA. I was especially interested with Paërʼs opera, “Agnese,” because Fräulein Gladkowska made her débût in it. She looks better on the stage than in a drawing-room. Her first-rate tragic acting leaves nothing to be desired, and her vocalization, even to the high F sharp or G, is excellent. Her nuances are wonderful, and if her voice was rather tremulous at first, through nervousness, she sang afterwards with certainty and smoothness. The opera was curtailed which, perhaps, did not make it seem so tedious to me. The harp romance which Fräulein Gladkowska sang in the second act was very fine. I was quite enraptured. She was recalled at the conclusion of the opera, and greeted with unbounded ovations.[60]
In a weekʼs time Fräulein Watkow[61] is to play the rôle of Fiorilla, in the opera of “Il Turco in Italia,” which will be sure to please the public better. A great many people blame the opera of “Agnese,” without knowing why.
I do not contend that Soliva[62] might have chosen something better for Gladkowska; “Vestalin” would, perhaps, have been more suitable, but “Agnese” is beautiful also; the music has many good points, which the young debutante brought out capitally.
And now what am I to do?
I start next month, but I must first try my Concerto, for the Rondo is ready now.
Warsaw, August 31st, 1830.
It was high time for your letter to arrive, for as soon as I received it, I lost my catarrh. Would that my letters might be endowed with the same miraculous power.
I still stay here, and nothing, indeed, attracts me abroad. But I am certain to go next month, in obedience to my calling, and my reason, which must be weak, if it were not strong enough to conquer all other inclinations.
This week I must try the whole of the E minor Concerto, with quartet accompaniment, to give me confidence, as Elsner says the first orchestral trial will not go well. Last Saturday, I tried the Trio, and, perhaps, because I had not heard it for so long, was satisfied with myself. “Happy man,” you will say, wonʼt you? It then struck me that it would be better to use the Viola instead of the Violin, as the first string predominates in the Violin, and in my Trio is hardly used at all. The viola would, I think, accord better with the ʼcello. The Trio will then be ready to print. So much about myself. Now something as to the other musicians.
FRÄULEIN WOTKOW. Last Saturday, Soliva brought forward his second pupil, Fräulein Wotkow, who delighted the whole house with her natural grace and good acting, also with her beautiful eyes and pearly teeth. She was more charming on the stage than any of our actresses. I scarcely recognized her voice at first, she was so agitated. But she acted so excellently, no one would have supposed her to be a debutante. Notwithstanding the encores and the enormous applause she received, she did not overcome her embarassment till the second act, when the capabilities of her voice revealed themselves, though not quite so fully as at the rehearsal, and at the performance the day before yesterday.
In vocal ability Fräulein Wotkow is far surpassed by Fräulein Gladkowska. If I had not myself heard the former I should not have believed there could be such a difference between two singers. Ernemann shares our opinion, that it is not easy to find a singer equal to Gladkowska, especially in the bell-like purity of her intonation, and true warmth of feeling, which are only properly displayed on the stage. She entrances her hearers. Wotkow made several slight mistakes, whilst with Gladkowska one did not hear a single note that was in the least doubtful, although she has only performed twice in “Agnese.”
When I saw the two vocalists the day before yesterday and presented your compliments to them, they were evidently gratified and commissioned me to thank you.
Wotkowʼs reception was warmer than Gladkowskaʼs, which Soliva did not seem to like. He said to me, yesterday, that he did not wish Wotkow to win more applause than her fellow pupil. I think a considerable share of the approbation is to be ascribed to the character which pleases the public better (captivated also by the young girlʼs beauty) than the tragic misery of the unhappy daughter in Paerʼs opera. Gladkowska is to appear shortly in the “Diebischen Elster,” but this “shortly” will last till I am over the mountains. Perhaps you will then be in Warsaw, and will give me your opinion of the performance. Her third rôle is to be “Vestalin.”
Warsaw, October 5th, 1830.
I was longing very much for your letter, which has somewhat soothed me. You cannot conceive how impatient and wearied (a feeling I cannot struggle against) I am of everything here. After the orchestral trial of my second Concerto, it was decided that I should appear with it at the Theatre on Monday, 11th instant. Although this does not quite suit me, I am curious to know what effect the composition will have on the public. I hope the Rondo will produce a good impression generally. Soliva said, “il vous fait beaucoup dʼhonneur;” Kurpinski thought it contained originality, and Elsner an especially piquant rhythm. To arrange a good concert, in the true sense of the word, and to avoid the unfortunate clarionet and flageolet solos, Mdlles. Gladkowska and Wotkow will give some solo numbers. As to overtures I will not have the one either to “Leszek,” or to “Lodoiska,” but that to “William Tell.”
You would hardly imagine the difficulty I had to obtain permission for the ladies to sing. The Italian granted it readily, but I had to go to a higher authority still: to the Minister Mostowski, who finally agreed, for it makes no difference to him. I do not know yet what they will sing, but Soliva tells me that a chorus will be necessary for one of the arias.
I am certain not to be in Warsaw a week after the concert. My trunk is bought, the outfit ready, the score corrected, the pocket handkerchiefs hemmed, the new stockings and the new coat tried on, &c. Only the leave-taking remains, and that is the hardest of all.
Warsaw, October 12th, 1830.
My Dearest,
THE CONCERT “A PERFECT SUCCESS.” The concert, yesterday, was a perfect success; I hasten to inform you of it. I was not in the least anxious, and played as if I had been at home. The hall was crammed. Görnerʼs symphony opened the ball; then I played the first Allegro from the E minor Concerto; the notes seemed to roll along of themselves on the Streicher piano. A roar of applause followed. Soliva was very satisfied; he conducted his Aria, with chorus, which was very well sung by Fräulein Wotkow. She looked like a fairy in her light blue dress. After this Aria came my Adagio and Rondo, and then the usual interval. Connoisseurs and lovers of music came on to the stage and complimented me on my playing, in the most flattering manner.
The second part began with the Tell Overture. Soliva conducted capitally, and the impression it produced was deep and abiding. The Italian was really so good to me that I owe him my everlasting gratitude. He afterwards conducted the Cavatina from “La Donna del Lago,” which Fräulein Gladkowska sung. She wore a white dress, had roses in her hair, and looked charmingly beautiful. She has never sung as she did last evening, except in the air in “Agnese.” “O, quanto lagrime per te versai,” and the “tutto detesto” were heard splendidly, even to the low B. Zielinski declared that this B alone was worth a thousand ducats.
When I had led the ladies from the stage I played my Fantasia on National Airs. This time I understood myself, the orchestra understood me, and the public understood us both. The Mazovian air, at the end, made a great sensation. I was so rapturously applauded that I had to appear four times to bow my thanks. And, be assured, I did it quite gracefully, for Brandt had fully instructed me. If Soliva had not taken my score home and corrected it, and, as conductor, restrained me when I wanted to run away, I do not know what would have happened. He kept us all so splendidly in check that I never played so comfortably with an orchestra before. The Streicher piano was very much liked, but Fräulein Wotkow still more.
I am thinking of nothing but my packing up. On Saturday or Wednesday I go out into the wide world.
Ever your truly affectionate
FREDERIC.