The Life of Johannes Brahms (Vol 1 of 2)

CHAPTER V

Chapter 174,859 wordsPublic domain

1853

Schumann's article 'New Paths'--Johannes in Hanover--Sonatas in C major and F minor--Visit to Leipzig--First publications--Julius Otto Grimm--Return to Hamburg viâ Hanover--Lost Violin Sonata--Songs--Marxsen's influence as teacher.

On October 28 Schumann's article appeared in the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_. Brahms seems to have read it for the first time in Hanover, whither, in pursuance of the plans formed in the summer between himself and Joachim, he accompanied his friend from Düsseldorf. Its contents were so unexpected, and their influence on Brahms' career was so far-reaching, that, though it may already be familiar to many readers, it seems right to quote it _in extenso_.

'NEW PATHS.

'Years have passed--almost as many in number as those dedicated by me to the previous editorship of this journal, namely, ten--since I appeared on this scene so rich to me in remembrances. Often, in spite of arduous productive activity, I have felt tempted; many new and considerable talents have appeared, a fresh musical energy has seemed to announce itself through many of the earnest artists of the present time,[36] even though their works are, for the most part, known to a limited circle only. I have thought, watching the path of these chosen ones with the greatest sympathy, that after such a preparation someone must and would suddenly appear, destined to give ideal presentment to the highest expression of the time, who would bring us his mastership, not in process of development, but would spring forth like Minerva fully armed from the head of Jove. And he is come, a young blood by whose cradle graces and heroes kept watch. He is called Johannes Brahms, came from Hamburg, where he has worked in obscure tranquillity, trained in the most difficult laws of art by an excellent and enthusiastic teacher, and was lately introduced to me by an honoured, well-known master.[47] He bore all the outward signs that proclaim to us, "This is one of the elect." Sitting at the piano, he proceeded to reveal to us wondrous regions. We were drawn into circles of ever deeper enchantment. His playing, too, was full of genius, and transformed the piano into an orchestra of wailing and jubilant voices. There were sonatas, more veiled symphonies--songs, whose poetry one would understand without knowing the words, though all are pervaded by a deep song-melody,--single pianoforte pieces, partly demoniacal, of the most graceful form,--then sonatas for violin and piano--quartets for strings--and every one so different from the rest that each seemed to flow from a separate source. And then it was as though he, like a tumultuous stream, united all into a waterfall, bearing a peaceful rainbow over the rushing waves, met on the shore by butterflies' fluttering, and accompanied by nightingales' voices.

'If he will sink his magic staff in the region where the capacity of masses in chorus and orchestra can lend him its powers, still more wonderful glimpses into the mysteries of the spirit-world will be before us. May the highest genius strengthen him for this, of which there is the prospect, since another genius, that of modesty, also dwells within him. His companions greet him on his first course through the world, where, perhaps, wounds may await him, but laurels and palms also; we bid him welcome as a strong champion.

'There is in all times a secret union of kindred spirits. Bind closer the circle, ye who belong to it, that the truth of art may shine ever clearer, spreading joy and blessing through the world.

'R. S.'

Such was the proclamation by which Schumann, carried away by the impulsive generosity of his nature, designed to facilitate the entrance into the jealous musical world of the composer of twenty, whose gifts had not been tested by the publication of a single composition, whose name was hardly known to rumour.

'It is doubtful,' says Mason, 'if, up to that time, any article had made such a sensation through musical Germany. I remember how utterly the Liszt circle in Weimar were astounded at it. It was at first, no doubt, an obstacle in Brahms' way, but, as it resulted in stirring up great rivalry between two opposing parties, it eventually contributed much to his final success.'

In sober truth, Brahms' worst enemy could scarcely have weighted him with a heavier mantle of immediate difficulty. It made his name an easy subject of ridicule to those who would in any case have been inclined to regard a new-comer with incredulity; it drew upon him the sceptical attention of others who might have been prepared to receive him with indifference or indulgence; it was calculated to awaken extravagant expectations in the minds of some whom it disposed to be his friends.

The musical world generally, adopted an attitude of hostile expectancy, and this was shared especially by the 'Murls,'[38] as the young satellites of Liszt styled themselves. Their 'Padisha,' Liszt himself, could afford to be more or less indifferent, though he was not unobservant. 'Avez-vous lu l'article de Schumann dans le dernier numéro de Brendel?' he says, writing on November 1 to Bülow, who replies on the 5th, alluding to supposed Brahms resemblances: 'Mozart-Brahms ou Schumann-Brahms ne trouble point du tout la tranquillité de mon sommeil. Il y a une quinzaine d'années que Schumann a parlé en des termes tout-à-fait analogues du génie de W. Sterndale Bennett. Joachim, du reste, connait Brahms, de même l'ingermanique Reményi'.'

What Brahms' own feelings were on reading the paper cannot be difficult of conjecture. Joy and bewilderment, gratitude and dismay, must have struggled within him for mastery. The steady sense of proportion which was one of his life-long characteristics, the consciousness of the almost crushing weight of artistic responsibility thus thrust upon him at the outset of his career, must have conflicted severely with his natural loyalty and his delight at having won from Schumann such an overflowing measure of approval. To a man of weaker moral fibre, the temptation to overmuch exaltation or undue depression might have proved more than perilous. Brahms, however, was made of stuff that enabled him to face the situation, to accept it, and finally to triumph over it, and the means which he used are the only means that can enable even genius to win the kind of victory that he obtained. They were unswerving loyalty and single-hearted devotion to an exalted purpose.

The matter of the selection of works to be submitted for the approval of the publishers was much discussed both before and after the departure of Joachim and Johannes from Düsseldorf, with the result that Schumann, wrote on November 3, to Dr. Härtel, and proposed for publication; as Op. 1, String Quartet; 2, Set of six Songs; 3, Pianoforte Scherzo; 4, Second set of six Songs; 5, Pianoforte Sonata in C major. He hoped, he said, to arrive at an understanding by which, whilst the young composer would derive an immediate pecuniary advantage, the publishers would not run too much risk, and he suggested that if the sale of the works should, after five years, have realized expectations, Brahms should then receive further proportionate remuneration. He proposed as first payments; ten Louis-d'ors (about £9 10s.) each, for the quartet and sonata, eight Louis-d'ors (about £7 12s.) for the scherzo, six (£5 14s.) for each of the two sets of songs--in all about £38. Should these proposals meet Dr. Härtel's views, he would put Brahms into direct communication with him in order that the works might be submitted for his consideration.

'He is an intimate of Joachim's in Hanover, where he proposes to spend the winter. Joachim has written an extremely fine overture to Hamlet, and an equally original and effective concerto for violin and orchestra, which I can recommend to you with the warmest sympathy.'[39]

Schumann's kindness did not stop here. He sent a sympathetic note to Jakob Brahms at home in Hamburg, tidings of which, and of the rejoicing family circle, just established in a new dwelling at No. 7 Lilienstrasse, were forwarded by the father to the young musician at Hanover. Dr. Härtel did not delay in sending word that he would be glad to see the manuscripts, for on November 9, Schumann wrote him a letter of thanks for his favourable reply, and added:

'I will write to-day to Brahms, and beg him to go as soon as possible to Leipzig to introduce his compositions to you himself. His playing belongs essentially to his music. I do not remember to have heard such original tone effects before.'

Dr. Härtel's note was forwarded to Hanover by Schumann in a letter to Joachim with the words: Give the enclosed to Johannes. He must go to Leipzig; persuade him to do this, or they will get a wrong idea of his works; he must play them himself. This seems to me very important.' After relating the arrangements pending with the publisher, he adds: 'Once again, pray urge him to go to Leipzig for a week;' and concludes: 'Now good-bye, dear friend. Write again before our Dutch journey, and tell Johannes, the lazy-bones, to do the same.'

Johannes had, in fact, not written to Schumann since leaving Düsseldorf, and he still waited, letting nearly three weeks go by before thanking the master for his article in the _Neue Zeitschrift_. Perhaps this fact may be regarded as confirmation of the surmise that he had not read Schumann's prophetic announcement with feelings of unmixed satisfaction, but if it be so, he allowed no other sign to appear of such a possibility. He very anxiously reconsidered his choice of works for publication, however, and before receiving Härtel's letter to Schumann, had forwarded to Leipzig a somewhat different selection from that decided on at Düsseldorf, withholding from it the string quartet. Having settled this matter as far as he could to his satisfaction, and brought himself to consent to Joachim's persuasions that he should go to Leipzig for a week, his attitude to Schumann remained one of unmixed gratitude and affection, as may be read in the following letter:[40]

'HONOURED MASTER,

'You have made me so immensely happy that I cannot attempt to thank you in words. God grant that my works may soon prove to you how much your affection and kindness have encouraged and stimulated me. The public praise you have bestowed on me will have fastened general expectation so exceptionally upon my performances that I do not know how I shall be able to do some measure of justice to it. Above all it obliges me to take the greatest care in the selection of what is to be published. I do not propose to include either of my trios, and think of choosing as Op. 1 and 2 the Sonatas in C and F sharp minor, as Op. 3 Songs, and as Op. 4 the Scherzo in E flat minor. You will think it natural that I should try with all my might to disgrace you as little as possible.

'I put off writing to you so long because I had sent the four things I have mentioned to Breitkopf and Härtel, and wished to wait for the answer, to be able to tell you the result of your recommendation. Your last letter to Joachim, however, informs us of this, and so I have only to write to you that I shall go, as you advise, within the next few days (probably to-morrow) to Leipzig.

'Further I wish to tell you that I have copied out my F minor Sonata, and made considerable alterations in the finale. I have also improved the violin sonata. I should like also to thank you a thousand times for the dear portrait of yourself that you have sent me, as well as for the letter you have written to my father. By it you have made a pair of good people happy, and for life Your

BRAHMS.'

'HANOVER, _16 Nov. 1853_.'

The reader may have noted that the work chosen by Brahms with which to introduce himself, not only to Joachim, but to the Deichmann circle, to Wasielewsky, and to Schumann himself, was the C major Sonata now known as Op. 1; and the natural inference to be drawn, that he considered it his best as it was his latest achievement, is confirmed by his reply to Louise Japha when she asked him, later on, why he had numbered his scherzo, a much earlier work, as Op. 4. 'When one first shows one's self,' he said, 'it is to the head and not the heels that one wishes to draw attention.'

That the composer was not mistaken, if we may thus take his own estimate of his published works by implication, may be safely affirmed. Sharing the fundamental characteristics, technical as well as temperamental, of the earlier written work of the same form--unity of plan, wealth of resource, impetuous vigour, dreamy romance, a breath that is repeatedly suggestive of the folk-lore in which the composer loved to steep his imagination--the Sonata in C gives evidence that the process of crystallization had already begun which was to distinguish Brahms' development towards maturity, which, indeed, did not stop at maturity, but may be traced continuously down to the close of his career. This process is to be observed, as regards the work in question, in the themes of the principal movements, which are not only more pregnant in themselves, but are presented in more concentrated form than those of the Sonata in F sharp minor. That the first theme of the opening movement bears traces of the composer's study of Beethoven's Sonata in B flat, Op. 106, is of no great consequence. The question of musical reminiscence is so frequently misunderstood that it may be well to devote a few words to it on the threshold of our narrative of Brahms' career as a composer, which will take but little account of such occasional examples as may easily be found in his works--in the opening bars of the scherzo of Op. 5, the second subject of the first allegro of Op. 73, and so forth. No one would affirm that reminiscences are in themselves desirable, but they are almost inevitable, and the important question is, not whether this or that rhythmical figure, this or that passing melodic progression, may be found anticipated in some earlier work, but whether it has been so used the second time as to have become an integral part of a composition with a distinct individuality of its own. The parentage of Brahms' sonata Op. 1, as, indeed, of every work published by him, is loudly proclaimed by each one of its pages. The opinion entertained by our composer, when in his maturity, of the self-satisfied reminiscence-hunter, is well illustrated by his reply to a conceited acquaintance who was courageous enough, on an occasion late in the seventies, to draw his attention to a transient resemblance in one of his great works to a passage of Mendelssohn. 'Some booby has already been telling me something of the kind.' (So was hab' ich schon von einem Rindvieh gehört), he answered. 'Such things are always discovered by the donkeys,' he said one day to a friend.

That the C major Sonata has been heard more frequently than that numbered as Op. 2, and is still occasionally to be found in a concert-programme, may be accepted both as evidence and result of its advance upon the Sonata in F sharp minor. The step from the C major to the F minor Op. 5, is, however, more remarkable. In this work we find that the 'wild wing-flapping' of which Schumann wrote has been calmed by the faithful guardian, not only without detriment, but with strange increase of strength and certainty, to the 'soaring power.' The progress shown in the facility of expressing the idea seems almost to have reacted on the idea to be expressed. No work in the entire catalogue of Brahms' compositions more convincingly exhibits the composer's title to rank as a seer of visions. In this one respect, in its exalted imaginative energy, it may almost be associated with the wonderful first symphony. Truly, it requires an interpreter who can decipher the vision, and hearers capable of receiving the interpretation. In spite, however, of the difficulties it presents both to listener and performer, as well as of its defects of immaturity, this sonata, which was a favourite with von Bülow, has grown very gradually into some measure of general acceptance, and it seems not impossible that it may some day be frequently heard in the concert-room. It is the only one of Brahms' extant works which was submitted to Schumann's criticism whilst in process of completion. In consequence of a mischance presently to be related, the violin sonata referred to in the letter quoted above was never published.

Amongst the young Schumannites who had been roused by Joachim's and Dietrich's accounts of Brahms to an extreme expectation, which had not been lessened by the appearance of Schumann's essay, was one Heinrich von Sahr, a musician from choice rather than necessity, who lived at Leipzig in the intimacy of the notabilities of its artistic circle. He had written in October to Dietrich:

'Send me your real opinion of Brahms. I am dreadfully anxious to know him.... What is he like personally? Ah, write! do please write soon and tell me what you think of him. Is he still in Düsseldorf? What is his music like? What has he composed?'

Von Sahr was the first person in Leipzig to make Brahms' acquaintance, and, on the day after his arrival, insisted that he should leave his hotel to become his guest. He introduced him to Mendelssohn's old friend, the celebrated concertmeister, David; to Julius Rietz, conductor of the Gewandhaus concerts; to the personal acquaintance of Dr. Härtel; to Wieck and his daughter Marie (Frau Schumann's father and sister); to Ernst Ferdinand Wenzel, one of Schumann's special friends; to Julius Otto Grimm, a young musician whose room was on the same staircase as his own, and who soon became numbered amongst Johannes' particular chums; and, generally speaking, to the entire Leipzig circle.

'He is perfect!' he exclaims in a letter to Albert; 'the days since he has been here are amongst the most delightful in my recollection. He answers so exactly to my idea of an artist. And as a man!--But enough, you know him better than I do.... Unfortunately, he can only stay till Friday. He has, however, promised, and I think he will keep his promise, to come again soon.'

There was a performance in von Sahr's rooms one morning, by Brahms and David, of the sonata for pianoforte and violin, and performances on the same and the following days of the C major Sonata and other solos, with the now customary result. Johannes also writes to Albert:

'The Härtels have received me with immense kindness.... If our master is still in Düsseldorf, tell him this, and say how highly I honour him, how much I love him and how grateful I should like to be.'

Brahms left Leipzig on Friday, November 25, in Grimm's company, for a few days' visit to the Countess Ida von Hohenthal, a lady living on her estate not far from Leipzig, who was devoted to music, liked to receive young artists, and always had a particularly warm welcome for Grimm and his friends. Her name, which appears on the title-page of Brahms' Sonata in F minor, Op. 5, is of interest from its association with this period of the composer's début in the circle of the Leipzig notabilities, whose number was swelled, during the first ten days of December, 1853, by the presence of Berlioz from Paris, and that of Liszt, supported by a body of his 'Murls,' from Weimar.

The occasion of the assembling of the members of the New-German party in the city of Leipzig was one of great importance to them. Berlioz had been invited to conduct a selection of his works within the precincts of the classical Gewandhaus itself, and the second part of the subscription concert of December 1, was to be devoted to the following compositions: 'The Flight into Egypt,' 'Harold in Italy,' 'The Young Shepherd of Brittany,' the fairy Scherzo from 'Romeo and Juliet,' selections from 'Faust,' and the overture to the 'Carnaval Romain.' Brahms and Grimm returned in time to be present with their friends on the occasion, which was made lively by the demonstrations and counter-demonstrations of two conflicting parties in the audience, but seems to have resulted as satisfactorily for the Weimarites as they could reasonably have expected. Brahms and his messiahship were discussed, and none too gently handled, at a supper-party at which Berlioz, Liszt, Gouvy, and others of their set, met after the concert, but the hostile attitude adopted towards the young musician was not enduring. The personal animus which Schumann's essay had aroused against him was generally disarmed, as he became known in Leipzig, by the attraction of his unassuming manner--the more speedily, perhaps, because it was felt that his modesty rested upon an underlying feeling of confidence in himself and his purpose. He at once showed his indifference to party jealousies, and perhaps ran some risk of offending his companions, by calling on Liszt, who, with Berlioz, Raff, Laub, Reményi, and others, was staying at the Hôtel de Bavière, and it will presently be shown that Liszt reconsidered his position to the young musician towards whom public attention had been so suddenly and strikingly directed.

Johannes presented himself on the Sunday (December 4) following the Gewandhaus concert at two houses always open to visitors on the first day of the week, into both of which we are enabled to penetrate by means of detailed accounts written immediately after the occurrences they describe. One is contained in a volume by Helene von Vesque;[41] the other in an 'open letter' written by Arnold Schloenbach to the editor Brendel, for publication in the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_ of December 9, 1853.

Hedwig, younger daughter of the wealthy house of Salamon, was not only possessed of literary and artistic talents, but of a magnetic personality which enabled her to form many distinguished friendships. She was long intimate with the families of Mendelssohn, Schumann, Schleinitz, Hauptmann, and other leaders of musical Leipzig, knew Joachim as a boy, and was for some time looked upon by her circle as the probable future wife of the Danish composer, Niels Gade. At the time of which we write she had nearly completed her thirty-second year, but her marriage with the composer Franz von Holstein did not take place until nearly two years later. The extracts from her diaries and letters contained in Helene von Vesque's book include several of interest to musical readers. Of young Brahms she says:

'Yesterday Herr von Sahr brought me a young man who held in his hand a letter from Joachim. He sat down opposite me, this young hero of the day, this young messiah of Schumann's, fair, delicate-looking, who, at twenty, has clearly-cut features free from all passion. Purity, innocence, naturalness, power, and depth--this indicates his being. One is so inclined to think him ridiculous and to judge him harshly on account of Schumann's prophecy; but all is forgotten; one only loves and admires him. In the evening he came to a small party at Elizabeth's [Hedwig's sister, Frau von Seebach].... He placed himself at a little table near me, and spoke so brightly and continuously that his friends at the other table could not be surprised enough, for he is generally extremely quiet and dreamy. We had plenty of points in common: Joachim, the Wehners, our mutual favourite poets, Jean Paul and Eichendorf, and his, Hoffmann and Schiller.... He vehemently urged me to read "Kabale and Liebe" and the "Serapionsbrüder," but above all Hoffmann's musical novels, of which he spoke with real enthusiasm. "I spend all my money on books; books are my greatest pleasure. I have read as much as I possibly could since I was quite little, and have made my way without guidance from the worst to the best. I devoured innumerable romances of chivalry as a child until the 'Robbers' fell into my hands, of which I knew nothing except that it had been written by a great poet. I asked for something more by the same Schiller, however, and so made gradual progress." He speaks in the same fresh way of music, and when I said to him, "You will not care so much about music when you have a post as music-director or professor," he answered smiling, but quite decidedly: "Yes; I shall not take a post."

'And with all this independent strength, a thin boy's voice that has not yet changed! and a child's countenance that any girl might kiss without blushing. And the purity and firmness of his whole being, which guarantee that the spoiled world will not be able to overcome this man; for, as he has been able to bear his elevation from obscurity to the perilous position of an idol without losing any of his modesty, or even his naïveté, so God, who created such a beautiful nature will continue to help him!'

Schloenbach's 'open letter' is written in too inflated a style to deserve lengthy quotation, but one or two extracts may be welcome as describing our composer's first semi-public appearance in Leipzig. Franz Brendel's 'at home' on the particular Sunday in question was a more than usually brilliant function. 'Composers, teachers, virtuosi, lyric and dramatic poets, romancists, booksellers, critics and journalists--even preachers--clever, artistic women, charming girls,' were gathered in the editor's reception-rooms, and one artist after another performed for the edification of the distinguished audience. A harp solo executed by Jeanette Paul, and rewarded by a double handshake from Berlioz; one on the pianoforte by Krause; a number of vocal contributions by the great tenor Götze--songs by Schumann and Wagner, and, in association with the accomplished amateur and Wagner enthusiast Frau Lily Steche, the famous 'Lohengrin' duet--formed the earlier part of the impromptu programme.

'The last performance of all was of special interest. Following maturity came immaturity, but immaturity of rare endowment and rich promise; immaturity already considerably defined, because possessed of individual power and true originality. We listened now to the young Brahms from Hamburg, referred to the other day in Schumann's article in your journal. The article had, as you know, awakened mistrust in numerous circles (perhaps in many cases only from fear). At all events it had created a very difficult situation for the young man, for its justification required the fulfilment of great demands; and when the slender, fair youth appeared, so deficient in presence, so shy, so modest, his voice still in transitional falsetto, few could have suspected the genius that had already created so rich a world in this young nature. Berlioz had, however, already discovered in his profile a striking likeness to Schiller, and conjectured his possession of a kindred virgin soul, and when the young genius unfolded his wings, when, with extraordinary facility, with inward and outward energy, he presented his scherzo, flashing, rushing, sparkling; when, afterwards, his andante swelled towards us in intimate, mournful tones, we all felt: Yes, here is a true genius, and Schumann was right; and when Berlioz, deeply moved, embraced the young man and pressed him to his heart, then, dear friend, I felt myself affected by such a sacred tremour of enthusiasm as I have seldom experienced.... If you should smile now and then whilst reading my letter, remember that it is the poet who has spoken, and that it was yourself who invited him to do so.

'LEIPZIG, '_December 5, 1853_.'

It must not be forgotten, in connection with these effusive lines, that the party circumstances of the time and the excitement caused by Schumann's article made Brahms' appearance amongst the guests of Brendel, who had identified himself with the New-Germans, an event of importance, to be regretted by the younger and more excitable of the Leipzigers, and welcomed by the Weimarites. It no doubt contributed to the satisfaction expressed by Liszt, in a letter to Bülow, on his return to Weimar after a second appearance of Berlioz in Leipzig, and the sympathetic tone of this communication clearly shows that the motive of policy which dictated it was supported by a more personal feeling of approbation. He says on December 14:

'Je viens de passer quelques jours à Leipzig, où j'ai assisté aux deux concerts de Berlioz le 1er et le 11 de ce mois. Le résultat d'opinion à été en somme très favorable à Berlioz.'

And two days later:

'Écrivez-moi de Hanovre, où vous ferez bien de passer une quinzaine de jours. Vous y trouverez Brahms auquel je m'intéresse sincèrement et qui s'est conduit avec tact et bon goût envers moi durant les quelques jours que je viens de passer à Leipzig en l'honneur de Berlioz. Aussi l'ai-je invité plusieurs fois à dîner et me plais à croire que ses "Neue Bahnen" (New Paths) le rapprocheront davantage de Weimar par la suite. Vous serez content de la Sonate en Ut dont j'ai parcouru les épreuves à Leipzig et qu'il m'avait déjà montré