Famous composers and their works, Vol. 1

by Unknown

A position of more importance than any he had yet occupied awaited our artist in the year 1822. The management of the École Royale (after 1830 it was again called the Conservatoire) had been intrusted in 1816 to the highly esteemed writer upon musical history, François Louis Perne, who did not prove equal to the undertaking, and Cherubini was now called upon to fill his place. So great was his success as director of the institution that it not only rose at once to its former level, but became a model of completeness. Nor is it too much to say that the prestige still attached to the name of the Paris Conservatoire owes its origin to Cherubini, who united in himself all the qualities necessary for the proper fulfilment of the responsibilities which rested upon him. The influence and authority which a world-wide reputation bestows belonged to him by right. As a composer, the bent of his mind was serious and earnest, and had always led him to profit by the accumulated experience of centuries in laying the foundation for his own life-work. In addition, he possessed that talent for organization and direction which is so rare with artists. Extreme punctuality and love of order, untiring industry and severity towards himself and others, were among his most prominent characteristics, which perhaps were developed to an unnecessary extent, causing him to demand complete submission to his will on the part of others, and discouraging the expression of any individuality or independence, often denying even that degree of personal freedom to which all mankind are entitled. Both by teachers and pupils he was more feared than beloved. His taciturnity, the harsh and frequently sarcastic enunciation of his decisions, his obstinacy and pedantry, increased with years and rendered co-operation with him no easy task. Talent of an extravagant order found no favor in his eyes, and the dislike which Berlioz felt for him during his student days was reciprocated by the most open depreciation on Cherubini's part. But with all that may be said, it is impossible to detract from the inestimable service rendered by him as director of the Conservatoire, both to the institution itself and to the French music in general. The publication of his celebrated instruction book, "Cours de Contrepoint et de Fugue," which was introduced into the classes of the Conservatory, took place in the later years of his life. The text of this book was not written by Cherubini himself but by one of his pupils; Fétis thinks by Halévy. In the matter of oral explanations, the master was exceedingly chary. He pointed out in the clearest manner what must be done, but no reasons were given as to why it should be thus, and not otherwise; he never liked to talk much about his art. Taking his method as a whole, too much cannot be said in its praise. In the matter of counterpoint he did not confine himself to the rules laid down in the sixteenth century, but embraced with his comprehensive glance the whole domain of modern music.

Although the greater part of Cherubini's life was passed in straitened circumstances, and his worth as an artist received at most only a partial recognition, yet in his old age the world delighted to do him honor, and his authority was undisputed. In the year 1795 the musician married Cécile Tourette, the daughter of a member of the old royal chapel, who bore him a son and two daughters. To this earnest, industrious man the highest pleasures that life could offer were those of his happy home, where, in his later years free from care, he gladly dispensed an unpretentious hospitality such as had been impossible when he was obliged to struggle for the necessities of existence. Ferdinand Hiller, who resided in Paris between the years of 1828 and 1835, paid frequent visits to Cherubini, and was once conducted by the artist's oldest daughter to the dwelling occupied by the family in 1800. A single apartment then served both as the musician's study and the children's sitting-room. Here he sat at a little table by the window and composed the opera "Les Deux Journées," while the children played in the background. A line of demarcation was drawn through the middle of the room; beyond this the children could amuse themselves as noisily as they pleased, but they were forbidden to cross the line. So long as this regulation was obeyed, and no one came too near him, he did not feel disturbed, and here we see revealed the mental constitution of the man.

CHERUBINI'S TOMB IN PÈRE LACHAISE, PARIS.

From a photograph made specially for this work.

Cherubini died at Paris on the 15th of March, 1842, in the eighty-second year of his life. As Commander of the Legion of Honor, a distinction from the king never before conferred upon any musician, he was buried with military honors. Over three thousand persons were in the funeral procession, which conducted the remains of the composer to the cemetery of Père Lachaise, where they still repose. Within a short time after his death, several memoirs of Cherubini were issued. A fellow-countryman, Luigi Picchianti, published a work called "Notizie sulla vita e sulle opere di Luigi Cherubini," which even to-day is of substantial value, so far as the principal facts of his life are concerned. Miel, a Frenchman, wrote "Notices sur la vie et les ouvrages de Cherubini" (1842), while Fétis in the "Biographie Universelle des Musiciens," and Ferdinand Hiller in "Musikalisches und Persönliches," made important contributions drawn from their personal knowledge of the artist. A careful compilation, entitled "Cherubini; Memorials illustrative of his Life" (London, 1874), was made by Edward Bellasis. The fullest revelations concerning his life history were, however, made by the musician himself in the catalogue of his works, illustrated with autobiographical notes and published with the consent of the writer's relatives by Bottée de Toulman, librarian of the Conservatoire. The precious collection of manuscript compositions left behind by Cherubini remained for a long time in the hands of the family, who, though willing to dispose of them, could find neither in Italy nor France a state institution, a society, or a private individual ready to purchase this inestimable treasure and preserve it to posterity. At length, however, the writer of these lines had the honor of being permitted to assist the Prussian government in securing the manuscripts, which are now in the possession of the Royal Library in Berlin.

Many circumstances have thus far combined to prevent the forming of a decisive judgment in the public mind as to the position which should be assigned to Cherubini in the musical world. The path which leads to the proper understanding of an artist's personality, through a study of the character of the nation to which he belongs, seems in this instance to be effectually blocked, for in the subject of our essay we behold the phenomenon especially rare among the Italians—an international musician. Though Cherubini was trained in the forms of old Italian church music under the severe and thorough tuition of Sarti, pupil of Padre Martini, the learned Bolognese contrapuntist, and though familiar from childhood with the light and artistic opera-melodies of his fatherland, yet this native of Florence was destined to achieve his life work in a foreign land. Cherubini composed the greater number and most important of his works for the Conservatoire in Paris, the city which became his second home. And, finally, it was through the study of a world-renowned German master, belonging to his own time, that the whole nature of the man was first stirred to its foundation. From all this it follows readily enough that while Cherubini reveals alike to the Italians, the French, and the Germans certain traits which are characteristic of each nationality, he awakens for the most part in one and all a certain feeling of strangeness. The different elements which make up his musical personality are not welded together externally, nor was anything further from the master's thought than to offer something to every nation in a vain struggle to win for himself the applause of the world. Let it rather be regarded as the strongest impulse of his earnest, reflective nature to appropriate for his development everything that could be acquired from the collective artistic culture of the race. These acquisitions he was able to fuse together into a musical language of peculiar significance, incapable of comparison with any other; but in so doing he was obliged to renounce the sort of sympathy which, resting upon a national foundation, draws souls together as by an irresistible force.

Unlike the greater number of Italian composers, whose highest aim was a cheerful, agreeably stimulating artistic enjoyment, there is in Cherubini an element of severity, an aristocratic elegance of expression, which often border on coldness. Strains such as enchant the multitude are of infrequent occurrence in his music. It is, therefore, not to be wondered at that the multitude kept itself aloof from him. Only one of all his operas, "Les Deux Journées," now known in Germany under the name of "Der Wasserträger" (The Water Carrier), was able to attain a lasting popularity. For a variety of reasons, also, his sacred compositions have failed to become widely known. The masses and requiems are, first of all, too grand and earnest, too difficult and full of meaning, to adapt themselves to the vapid style of Catholic Church music, and, when performed in the concert room, they do not often produce their full effect. Nor is the three-part writing, which Cherubini has repeatedly employed with reference to the needs of the French church choirs, at all suited to the requirements of our choral societies. It is, unfortunately, too often the case that trifling obstacles of a similar character interfere with a proper appreciation of the finest productions of genius. The fact that the name of Cherubini does not stand inscribed in the temple of fame with those of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven must be attributed in some degree to unfamiliarity with his works on the part of the public, but is still further owing to the peculiarity of the artist's musical nature, and to the remarkable place which he has created for himself in and beyond the musical life of the nations. To estimate him at his full value should be the distinctive office of the German people; and it is indeed true that, while he is everywhere spoken of with respect, there exists to-day, in the select circle of German musicians and musical critics, as little doubt as existed five-and-twenty years ago that a place should be accorded to Cherubini among the greatest composers whom the world has known. He mastered musical forms and resources to an extent that has been rarely equalled. In the severe contrapuntal style of composition, which has gone more and more out of fashion since Beethoven, he surpassed all his contemporaries, whatever might be their relations to him in other respects. With the single exception of Sebastian Bach, no composer has ever employed the contrapuntal forms so freely, intelligently, and profoundly as Cherubini; while as regards harmony and transparent clearness, he stands even before Bach in the most complicated of his works. A thorough mastery of counterpoint is of more especial importance in vocal church music, although dramatic composition also affords it sufficient opportunity, and it can nowhere be entirely dispensed with. In addition to his skill in this direction, Cherubini had complete control over the technique and the forms of modern instrumental music, a domain from which his French and Italian contemporaries were excluded, he having followed in Haydn's footsteps; and in artistic elaboration of motives, and in masterly handling of orchestra and string quartet, he scarcely yields the palm to his German master. But it is, first of all, in works formed by an agreeable combination of vocal and instrumental music that his diversified talents found their centre of activity. In respect to the association of vocal music in one or more parts with the play of the instruments, Cherubini's operas, cantatas, and church compositions are masterpieces of the highest order, and entirely worthy to stand by the side of similar works by Haydn and Mozart.

A highly developed sense of form and unusual mastery of artistic methods would certainly not suffice of themselves to place Cherubini in the front rank of composers, if he had not been able at the same time to impress the stamp of individual genius upon his manifold productions. He has sometimes been called an eclectic, and always, of course, with the implication that he was less original, and less fertile in invention, than the great German masters of his time. This estimate of him would seem, however, to confound the strength of the musician's creative power with its quality. No artist can do more than develop to a higher degree what he finds already existent. For this purpose, he fills his mind with a greater or lesser number of artistic thoughts, and transforms them into the elements of his own creations. The fulness and variety of these formative elements will generally be in proportion to the power of the composer. It can truly be said of Sebastian Bach that not a single species of art was known in his time which he did not make use of for his own purposes. Whatever Handel and Mozart could draw from Italian music for the realization of their artistic ideals they unhesitatingly appropriated, employing it partly as the foundation of their productions, partly as supplementary material. In all such instances, the point to be considered is whether the strength of the artist is sufficient to vivify and renew the foreign elements. That this was the case with Cherubini, I have already remarked. His style of musical expression is a thoroughly characteristic one, entirely different from that of other composers; its cold and reserved elegance not being due to the eclectic character of his cultivation, but to the idiosyncrasy of his artistic nature. Granted that the mission of art is to animate and cheer, and that this is not accomplished through the medium of reflection, but by the direct, artless outpouring of the artist's thoughts, it must none the less be permitted to the artist to sacrifice the immediately transporting effect of his music in favor of profoundness, and the unusual order of charm intended to be conveyed. Those compositions of Cherubini which fail to electrify at the first hearing attract us when we have studied them, through their grandeur of outline, the deep earnestness which pervades them, their artistic finish, and the exceptional brilliancy of particular passages. Of course there are included among his works, as is the case with all artists, some unimportant productions in which certain peculiarities of his nature are too plainly revealed. Such are especially to be found among the compositions of his latest years, and the last three of his string quartets can afford unmixed pleasure to no one. But whoever wishes to form a just judgment of Cherubini should turn to the rich array of great works belonging to his most productive period, in which one cannot fail to perceive a harmonious blending of the universally intelligible with a pure and characteristically peculiar beauty which appeals to every appreciative listener.