Famous composers and their works, Vol. 2

by Unknown

STRAUSS

HE name of Strauss bids fair to become as numerously represented in the annals of Nineteenth Century music as was that of Bach in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; with this difference, however, that while the Bachs were all of one family, three of the Strausses who have become sufficiently famous to win a place in the musical dictionaries are not related to the other three or four. It is with those that are related, the family of Johann Strauss, the Viennese "Waltz-King," that this article is concerned.

A few years ago (1887) the famous Leipsic publishing house of Breitkopf and Härtel commenced the issue of a complete collection of the waltzes, polkas, and other dance pieces of the elder Johann Strauss. The first volume has an interesting though brief biographic sketch by Johann Strauss, Jr., who relates some of his personal reminiscences of his father, besides other facts previously known to the public. "My father," he says in the opening paragraph, "was a musician by the grace of God. Had he not been guided by an inner, irresistible impulse, the difficulties which confronted him in his youth would have pushed him into another path."

It is interesting to note how this "impulse" would have its own way, as in the case of other famous musicians, notwithstanding parental opposition. Strauss was born at Vienna on March 14, 1804. When he was a mere child he used to amuse himself (as Haydn had done in his childhood) by taking two sticks and imitating the movements of a fiddler. Great was his joy when his father, having discovered this instinctive trait, made him a present of a small violin and allowed him to take lessons on it in the primary school. But this was as far as parental encouragement went. Little Johann's desire to become a professional musician was not countenanced, and at the age of fourteen he was sent to a book-binder to learn his trade; but he soon tired of this work and when his master added insult to injury by forbidding him to play the violin, he packed up his beloved instrument and his few other possessions and ran away. In a suburb of Vienna he came across a friend who induced him to return to his parents, whom he persuaded at the same time to give up opposing his musical inclinations. So he received regular lessons and was soon able to play in a small local orchestra.

As luck would have it, another musician, who was destined to be Strauss's colleague and rival, Joseph Lanner, was at that time beginning his brilliant career in Vienna. He was four years older than Strauss, and had associated himself with two other musicians for the purpose of playing in the cafés which abounded in that city. Strauss begged permission to join this club, and was accepted as viola player, one of his duties being the passing around of the plate for collections. There was so much animation and true musical feeling in the performances of this club that it became immensely popular and soon Lanner found it impossible to accept all the engagements that were offered. This led him to engage more musicians and ultimately to divide his orchestra into two smaller ones, over one of which he himself presided, while Strauss was placed at the head of the other.

But Strauss was an ambitious man, and after this companionship had lasted six years (1819-1825) he made his "declaration of independence" of Lanner and conducted an orchestra of his own, which soon became "all the rage" in Vienna. His son has sketched this important episode so eloquently that I cannot do better than translate his words: "The public now learned to know him as an independent conductor, and as such he soon became so popular that the dance-loving Viennese were divided into two parties—the Lannerianer and the Straussianer—each of which championed its idol with ardor. It redounds to the credit of the good old times that this partisanship could not cloud the personal relations between Lanner and Strauss, who continued to remain good friends. Their professional separation at this time was brought about by another circumstance: my father accidentally discovered his talent for composition. Composing was obviously at that time an easier matter than it is to-day. To produce a polka, contemporary musicians study the whole literature of music and perhaps a few philosophical systems too. Formerly, only one thing was needed to compose: One had to have a happy thought, as the popular saying is (es musste Einem was einfallen). And strange to say, these happy thoughts always came. Self-confidence in this respect was so great that we of the old school (wir Alten) frequently announced for a certain evening a new waltz of which on the morning of the same day not a single note was written. In such a case the orchestra usually went to the composer's house, and as soon as the latter had finished a part it was immediately copied for the orchestra. Meantime, the miracle of the 'happy thought' repeated itself for the other parts of the waltz; in a few hours the piece was completed, whereupon it was rehearsed, and in the evening it was played before a usually enthusiastic public.

"Lanner—light-hearted and careless—hardly ever composed any other way. One morning it happened that he felt ill and unable to work, while a new set of waltzes had been promised for the evening, and of course not a bar was on paper. He sent my father the simple message: 'Strauss, see if you can think of something' (in the quaint Viennese dialect: Strauss, schauen's dass Ihnen was einfällt.)—In the evening the new waltz was played—as Lanner's, of course—and was received with extraordinary favor. This circumstance, combined with his marriage in the same year, induced my father to secure his independence. He organized at first a quintet, but after barely a year his orchestra already numbered fourteen men. At what rate his fame and his popularity both as composer and conductor grew, is a thing of which we, in these prosaic days, can hardly have a conception. The years 1830 to 1836, during which my father presided over the music at the Sperl, will always remain memorable in the history of music at Vienna. The audiences were enormous, the enthusiasm unbounded, and as my father was persuaded to accept engagements for other amusement places too, he had at his disposal, during the carnival, about two hundred musicians. From this he selected a corps of élites—his Stammorchester—which he succeeded by unceasing rehearsals in bringing to a point of perfection such as no other private orchestra had ever reached. Visitors to Vienna carried the fame of these musicians to other parts of the world, and invitations soon came to him to play in other cities."

The rest of Johann Strauss's life is simply a record of his triumphs in the cities of Germany, Holland, France, Belgium and England, as well as in Vienna, where he was appointed director of the Court balls in 1835. From 1833 to 1849, the year of his death, he made a tour almost every year, and he was the first musician, so far as the records show, who undertook to travel with a whole orchestra. In 1837-38 his tour extended as far as Paris and London. In evidence of his great success in Paris it is related that when he gave a series of thirty concerts in conjunction with the popular Musard, whose orchestra played after Strauss's, one half of the audience usually left the hall after Strauss had finished his part of the program. In London he arrived most opportunely about the time of Queen Victoria's coronation, when merry music was in great demand, and here he gave no fewer than seventy-two concerts, besides playing at many balls. London, however, did not agree with his health. At his first visit he fell ill there, and his second visit, in 1849, proved fatal, for he brought with him the germs of disease (scarlet fever) to which he succumbed shortly after his return to Vienna. He died on Sept. 25, aged 45. All the Viennese joined in doing him homage, and a vast concourse—his son says one hundred thousand—accompanied his coffin to the grave.

Regarding his personal appearance, Herr C. F. Pohl, the Viennese librarian says, that "though small he was well made and distinguished looking, with a singularly formed head. His dress was always neat and well chosen. Though lively in company, he was naturally rather silent. From the moment he took his violin in his hand he became another man, whose whole being seemed to expand with the sounds he drew from it." In his own home the "Waltz-King," who contributed so much to ball-room merriment, appears to have been unhappy. His father had been the keeper of a beer house, and he himself married the daughter of an innkeeper, Anna Streim, from whom he was divorced on the ground of incompatibility of temper, after eighteen years. They had five children—two daughters and three sons, Johann, Joseph and Eduard, all three of whom have became famous in the annals of dance music.