XI
1880-1881
To N. F. von Meck.
“Kamenka, September 4th (16th) 1880.
“I am doing nothing whatever, only wandering through the forests and fields all day long. I want to take a change from my own work, with its eternal proof-correcting, and to play as much as possible of other people’s music; so I have begun to study Mozart’s Zauberflöte. Never was so senselessly stupid a subject set to such captivating music. How thankful I am that the circumstances of my musical career have not changed by a hair’s breadth the charm Mozart exercises for me! You would not believe, dear friend, what wonderful feelings come over me when I give myself up to his music. It is something quite different from the stressful delight awakened in me by Beethoven, Schumann, or Chopin.... My contemporaries were imbued with the spirit of modern music from their childhood, and came to know Mozart in later years, after they had made acquaintance with Chopin, who reflects so clearly the Byronic despair and disillusionment. Fortunately, fate decreed that I should grow up in an unmusical family, so that in childhood I was not nourished on the poisonous food of the post-Beethoven music. The same kind fate brought me early in life in contact with Mozart, and thus opened up to me unsuspected horizons. These early impressions can never be effaced. Do you know that when I play Mozart, I feel brighter and younger, almost a youth again? But enough. I know that we do not agree in our appreciation of Mozart, and that my dithyramb does not interest you in the least.”
To N. F. von Meck.
“Kamenka, September 9th (21st), 1880.
“How fleeting were my hopes of a prolonged rest! Scarcely had I begun to enjoy a few days’ leisure than an indefinable mood of boredom, even a sense of not being in health, came over me. To-day I began to occupy my mind with projects for a new symphony, and immediately I felt well and cheerful. It appears as though I could not spend a couple of days in idleness, unless I am travelling. I dread lest I should become a composer of Anton Rubinstein’s type, who considers it his bounden duty to present a new work to the public every day in the week. In this way he has dissipated his great creative talent, and has only small change to offer instead of the sterling gold which he could have given us had he written in moderation. Lately I have been seeking some kind of occupation that would take me completely away from music for a time, and would seriously interest me. Alas, I have not discovered it! There is no guide to the history of music in Russian, and it would be a good thing if I could occupy myself with a book of this kind; I often think of it. But then I should have to give up composing for at least two years, and that would be too much. To start upon a translation—that is not very interesting work. Write a monograph upon some artist? So much has already been written about the great musicians of Western Europe. For Glinka, Dargomijsky, and Serov I cannot feel any enthusiasm, for, highly as I value their works, I cannot admire them as men. I have told you what I think of Glinka. Dargomijsky was even less cultured. As to Serov, he was a clever man of encyclopedic learning, but I knew him personally, and could not admire his moral character. As far as I understood him, he was not good-hearted, and that is sufficient reason why I do not care to devote my leisure to him. It would have been a delight to write the biography of Mozart, but it is impossible to do so after Otto Jahn, who devoted his life to the task.
“So there is no other occupation open to me but composition. I am planning a symphony or a string quartet. I do not know which I shall decide upon.”
To N. F. von Meck.
“Kamenka, September 12th (24th), 1880.