Mendelssohn: A Life in Music

by Todd, R. Larry

  Ex. 9.7 : Mendelssohn, Incidental Music to Calderón’s Der standhafte Prinz (1833)

  Though Immermann found Calderón’s play operatic, 41 Felix was unable to insinuate much musical inspiration into the tragedy. Of the four modest numbers he provided, two are choruses of Christian slaves lamenting their captivity and voicing the hope that Fernando will free them. The most extended movement is the third (Schlachtmusik ), an orchestral depiction of the raging battle. Here Felix resorts to stock figures of tone painting, including wind fanfares and a jagged G-minor string figure that plummets over chromatically descending tremolos; eventually the musical strife yields to a victory celebration in the major ( ex. 9.7 ). The final piece is a short march to mark the appearance of the martyred Fernando exhorting his countrymen (Geistererscheinung ).

  Partly owing to a poorly rehearsed orchestra, 42 Felix’s incidental music attracted scant attention when Der standhafte Prinz opened in Düsseldorf on April 9, 1833, and remains unpublished. Though Felix was unable to attend, he did arrive in the city one week later to discuss a more substantial invitation, to direct the fifteenth Lower Rhine Music Festival, scheduled for Pentecost in May. As early as February 1832 Felix had been approached about the opportunity; a formal invitation materialized in March 1833. 43 The fortuitous timing helped allay Felix’s rejection by the Singakademie, and he eagerly accepted, despite his commitment to direct the Philharmonic in London in May.

  En route to London, Felix reached Düsseldorf on April 17 to confer about the program with the festival committee, chaired by the appellate judge Otto von Woringen (1760–1838). There was consensus about the major work, Handel’s Israel in Egypt , but when the committee proposed Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony, Felix countered with the Pastoral and promptly played it from memory at the piano. Then, at a hastily arranged rehearsal at the concert hall, he conducted the ensemble without a score and filled in some missing parts by singing. 44 Immermann was impressed enough to wonder whether the young musician could be won permanently for the Düsseldorf orchestra and opera and, after advancing the idea during the April visit, confided to his diary that Felix was not “adverse to taking up such a post.” 45 Conceivably, discussions had already begun. If so, the prospect of Felix’s move to Düsseldorf might explain an unusual composition finished in Berlin on February 5, the Responsorium und Hymnus for male choir and bass line, published posthumously as Op. 121. The Latin Vespers text (twenty-first Sunday after Trinity), suggests Felix had in mind a Catholic service, such as he would encounter in Düsseldorf. Markedly Italianate, the setting revives his impressions of St. Peter’s, with a “walking” Baroque bass line in the first movement, responsorial singing in the third, and imitations of psalmody in the second and fourth, where a chant appears in monophony and embellished by two tenor voices ( ex. 9.8 ).

  Ex. 9.8 : Mendelssohn, Responsorium und Hymnus , Op. 121 (1833), No. 4

  IV

  From Düsseldorf Felix traveled to Rotterdam. There, on April 23, 1833, he finished a humorous male part-song, Musikantenprügelei (Musicians’ Fisticuffs ), for Robert Reinick, a pupil of Schadow who was planning an artists’ festival on May 1. 46 Embarking for London, Felix arrived on April 25 and took up his familiar quarters at 103 Great Portland Street. Reunited with his German friends, he planned an extravaganza for two pianos and orchestra for Moscheles’s concert on May 1. The subject was the Gypsies’ March from Weber’s Preciosa (1821), based on a tale of Cervantes. The two pianists hastily fabricated four bravura variations, prefaced by an introduction and the theme, and culminating in a scintillating finale. Felix took the first two variations, Moscheles the third and fourth, and the two collaborated on a scherzo-like finale. An effective concert piece that bears comparison with Schubert’s piano duets à l’hongroise , the collaboration captured the bohemian flavor of Weber’s theme ( ex 9.9 ). In 1833 the variations appeared in a version for two pianos as Variations brillantes , with an opus number (87b) from Moscheles’s catalogue of works. Moscheles appears to have taken a heavy hand in editing the final product, for Felix later complained he hardly recognized a measure of the printed composition. 47 But at the concert, the audience marveled at the “intimate fusion of two musical minds”; for Moscheles the work was like “an ice à la tutti frutti ” that dissolved “in one’s mouth,” and that one should savor for “the flavor it leaves behind.” 48

  Ex. 9.9 : Mendelssohn-Moscheles, Variations brillantes (1833), Theme

  At private soirées Felix mixed with several celebrities, including Vincenzo Bellini, then under contract to produce his operas at the King’s Theatre, and Hummel, who offered on May 6 such a monotonous improvisation that Felix “yawned an obbligato accompaniment.” 49 No more fulfilling were his encounters with Paganini, whose “wretched quartet” almost put Felix to sleep again. The Italian violinist invited him to play Beethoven violin sonatas, 50 but their most celebrated appearance occurred on May 12 at a soirée of Dr. Billing, when Paganini premiered a Trio concertante for viola, guitar, and cello. Because a guitarist was lacking, Felix performed the part at sight at the piano, a feat cited in the Morning Post . 51 Among his English acquaintances, Felix socialized with J. B. Cramer, the Taylors, and the Horsleys, and again visited St. Paul’s with Attwood. At Parliament, Felix attended the second reading of the Irish Church Reform Bill, and at the Royal Music Library examined the manuscript of Israel in Egypt , where he uncovered recitatives and arias missing in the printed version. Unable to conceal his delight, he reported the discoveries to Woringen and arranged to copy the recitatives; he also prevailed upon Klingemann to prepare a German translation of the libretto for use at the Düsseldorf festival.

  Woringen’s committee had been concerned about the lack of an overture for Handel’s oratorio, so Felix pressed into service his old Trumpet Overture, Op. 101. Shortly before leaving Berlin he had retouched the work, revised the ending, and, taking advantage of Handel’s scoring for three trombones, added parts for those instruments. 52 Upon arriving in London, one of Felix’s first acts was to present the “new” overture as partial fulfillment of the Philharmonic commission. Perhaps the disingenuousness prompted him to offer the institution’s secretary, William Watts, a second overture. 53 What was its identity? Peter Ward Jones has argued convincingly for Die schöne Melusine (The Fair Melusine ), Op. 32. 54 On February 27, 1833, Felix had attended a Berlin performance of Conradin Kreutzer’s romantic opera Melusine and when its overture was encored, he determined to compose his own overture that “the people might not encore , but would cause them more solid pleasure.” 55 Though Felix finished his autograph in November 1833, Ward Jones has suggested a first draft was advanced enough to share with the Philharmonic in April. Still, the directors selected the Trumpet Overture for performance on June 10, and shortly before Felix departed London on May 18, they granted permission for its use at the Düsseldorf festival.

  The highpoint of Felix’s third English sojourn came on May 13, when he conducted the sixth concert of the Philharmonic Society, relocated to the Hanover Square Rooms in the West End. Felix led the entire concert and underscored his new authority in English musical culture. Still, the evening ended in controversy: the orchestra, used to following the first violinist and not conductors, who usually merely turned pages, began the final work of the program while Felix was offstage. 56 Each program half was made up of a symphony, concerto (framed by two arias), and overture. 57 In the first half Felix performed Mozart’s Piano Concerto in D minor K. 466 from memory and distinguished himself on an out-of-tune piano with two brilliant cadenzas that tied together the thematic threads of the outer movements. In the second half came the premiere of the Italian Symphony. As with The Isles of Fingal in 1832, reactions were somewhat mixed; at least one critic, John Ella, misheard the slow movement, which, when encored, reminded him of “some ancient Scotch melody.” 58

  For nearly one hundred and seventy-five years, this masterful composition has symbolized Felix’s perfectionism. After the premiere, he left the autograph with Mo
scheles, and in 1834 began its revision by preparing from memory a new score of the last three movements. 59 Dissatisfied with the first movement, he abandoned the task and left the final judgment of his symphony to posterity. Apart from a few performances in 1834, 1837, and 1838 conducted by Moscheles and Cipriani Potter, the work was not heard again during Felix’s lifetime. Then, published posthumously as Op. 90 in 1851, 60 it entered the symphonic canon.

  Ex. 9.10a: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), First Movement

  Ex. 9.10b: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), First Movement

  Ex. 9.10c: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), First Movement

  The warm, southern character of the music breaks forth in the opening like a burst of Mediterranean sunlight: against pulsating wind tremolos and a pizzicato string chord, the violins convey an infectious, carnival-like melody in octaves ( ex. 9.10a ). The initial ascending third later emerges as a wind fanfare, anticipating the telltale descending third of the saltarello in the finale. Dancelike, the first movement prepares the topic of the finale, where, as we shall see, Felix juxtaposes two Italian folk dances. The euphonious second theme ( ex. 9.10b ), doubled in thirds in the winds, is also redolent of Italy. In the development Felix springs a surprise by introducing a third theme in a kind of mock fugato ( ex. 9.10c ). This intrusion of Germanic counterpoint is short-lived, banished by the reemergence of the fanfares. Especially memorable is the retransition to the reprise: against a high pitch in the first oboe, the fanfares gradually gain force, spilling over into the translucent wind tremuli. 61 In the ebullient coda, the third subject returns in A minor (presaging the finale) before its reunion with the lustrous A-major winds of the opening.

  The haunting Andante impresses as a sacred procession, not unlike the March of the Pilgrims in Berlioz’s Harold en Italie Symphony of 1834 (whether Felix shared parts of his symphony with the Frenchman during their Roman sojourns is unknown). But in 1963 Eric Werner, followed in 1987 by Wulf Konold, suggested that Felix’s plaintive opening melody resembled Zelter’s setting of Goethe’s “Es war ein König in Thule” ( ex. 9.11a ) and was an homage to Felix’s deceased teacher (or double homage to Zelter and Goethe). 62 Closer inspection casts doubt on the idea. First, Felix’s melody does not replicate the interlocking fourths characteristic of Zelter’s melody. Further, Felix may have conceived the slow movement in Rome a year or so before Zelter’s death; the letter of June 11, 1831, to Attwood establishes the symphony was “finished” (i.e., conceived mentally though not written out in score) before he left Italy. And finally, a striking, though overlooked passage from the Responsorium of Op. 121 suggests Felix indeed intended the Andante to imitate the monophonic psalmody he had absorbed in Rome.

  Ex. 9.11a: Zelter, “Es war ein König in Thule” (1796)

  Ex. 9.11b: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), Second Movement

  Ex. 9.11c: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), Second Movement

  Ex. 9.11d: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), Finale

  Ex. 9.11e: Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), Finale

  As we have seen, the second movement of Op. 121 features a monophonic intonation hovering around A, supported by B ♭ and C above; the Andante begins by condensing this chantlike formula (see p. 274 and ex. 9.11b ). In the symphony the winds then intone a modal melody against a walking bass line, a texture that vividly recalls the first movement of the Responsorium . When the violins answer the wind melody an octave higher, a pattern of responsorial chanting emerges. In m. 45, a new theme appears, bringing a shift from the modal D minor to the “modern” key of A major, so that the music now becomes tonally oriented ( ex. 9.11c ). But midway through the movement the intonation interrupts, fortissimo , and the chantlike melody and detached bass line resume. After the tonal melody reappears in D major, the intonation returns mezzo forte and then, echolike, falls to pianissimo . Broken up, the attenuated chant dies away, and the walking bass line expires in a few pizzicati. Taken as a whole, the alternating modal/tonal passages suggest a rehearing of monophonic chant through a modern, “tonal” perspective; the strategic placement of the intonation at various dynamics levels (f, ff , mf , and pp ), an approaching and passing procession, the kind of spatial music Berlioz created in his March of the Pilgrims (diagram 9. 1 ). It is difficult not to believe Felix’s experience of sacred monophony in Rome informed this powerful movement.

  The graceful third movement bears only the tempo marking Con moto moderato in the 1833 autograph, but when Felix revised the work in 1834 he labeled the movement a Menuetto , invoking the then obsolete court dance. His strategy was to contrast the aristocratic elegance of the minuet with the raucous finale, which begins with a saltarello modeled on folk dances he had heard in Rome. (In the 1834 score, the two worlds literally collide, for Felix added the inter-movement instruction, attaca subito il Saltarello .) The saltarello theme, doubled in thirds in the flutes, unfolds with a series of small leaps typifying the dance ( ex. 9.11d ; the word derives from the Latin saltus , for leap). The dance takes precedence over issues of form, for this restless movement resists ready analysis according to the sonata or rondo molds typically associated with finales.

  Diagram 9.1 : Mendelssohn, Italian Symphony, Op. 90 (1833), Slow Movement

  The monothematic “exposition,” which moves to the dominant minor, is spun entirely from the saltarello melody. The putative “development” (m. 105) begins with a feigned repeat of the exposition but soon introduces a fresh pianissimo subject in imitative counterpoint ( ex. 9.11e ). Some commentators have regarded it as a second saltarello, but its profile, distinguished by conjunct motion and legato slurs, tells us otherwise. According to Felix’s pupil William Rockstro, 63 the new melody is a tarantella, the southern Italian dance traditionally associated with tarantism, a nervous hysteria once thought caused by a tarantula’s bite. Here Felix may have drawn upon not only his Italian experiences but also the finale of Weber’s Piano Sonata No. 4, Op. 70 (1823), the first elevation of the folk dance into European art music. 64 In lieu of a recapitulation, Felix’s finale culminates in a suspenseful juxtaposition of the two dances, built up over a prolonged pedal point. 65 Near the end, the music dies down to pianissimo (the traditional abatement of the hysteria) but flares up again with a few rousing, definitive chords.

  V

  Early on May 18, Felix left London 66 (the night before, he repeated the Preciosa Variations with Moscheles at a concert of Nicolas Mori). Two days later he was lodged comfortably at the Düsseldorf home of Wilhelm von Schadow, and he accepted a three-year appointment, from October 1, 1833, as the municipal music director. 67 According to the agreement, Felix was to direct music for church services and up to eight concerts per year. In compensation he received a salary of 600 thalers (around 800 thalers in Berlin currency) and a three-month annual leave. Abraham, who arrived from Berlin on May 23 to attend the festival, wholeheartedly approved, for while “so many others have titles without an office,” [Felix] would have “a real office without a title.” 68 In Düsseldorf there was “no court, no meddling influence from higher quarters, no General-Musikdirektor [i.e., Spontini], no royal this or that.” 69 Annexed by Prussia in 1815 as part of the Rhine Province, Düsseldorf was administered by a mayor, with whom Felix executed his agreement, and protected by the garrison of Prince Friedrich, the Prussian monarch’s nephew, with whom Felix dined.

  In this unpretentious town of twenty thousand, he found haven from Berlin disappointments. Underscoring his new independence was his directorship of the Lower Rhine Music Festival, which, for fourteen years, had rotated between Aachen, Cologne, Elberfeld, and Düsseldorf, and developed into a relatively democratic form of public music making. In 1833 its participants included amateurs from surrounding communities, conveyed by “steamboats, diligences of every description, Extraposten , coaches,” and “private carriages.” To Abraham the scene was a “miracle, that 400 persons of all sexes, classes, and ages, blown togeth
er like snow before the wind, should let themselves be conducted and governed like children by one of the youngest of them all, too young almost to be a friend for any of them, and with no title or dignity whatever.” Betraying liberal sympathies, Abraham found the occasion a “true public festival, for which I have not yet noticed either policemen or gendarmes.” 70

  The openness of the festival infected its rehearsals, which commenced at 8:00 A.M. and resumed at 3:00 P.M. before the evening concert; the public could attend rehearsals for ten groschen, and nearly the same audience attended both. The musicians particularly welcomed one reform instituted by Felix. Earlier festival conductors had divided the personnel according to ability into “solo” and “tutti” groups, with the former playing in piano passages and the combined ensemble in forte passages. Felix argued that the less gifted musicians had not come to count rests and thus molded the combined forces into one orchestra. 71 Two concerts were given on Pentecost Sunday and Monday (May 26 and 27). The first began with the Trumpet Overture (imagined by the Düsseldorfers as composed for the festival) and featured Handel’s Israel in Egypt , with an orchestra of 142 and chorus of 267. Felix added wind parts and entered corrections into the printed score, including recitatives from the London autograph he had examined. 72 The second concert brought Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony and third Leonore Overture, and cantatas by E. W. Wolf and Peter Winter. Owing to the success, the festival committee added for the first time a third, “impromptu” concert on the morning of May 28, in which the soloists performed arias, and Felix played Weber’s Konzertstück , directed the Fidelio and third Leonore Overtures, and encored choruses from the oratorio. Then, at a festive evening ball, toasts were raised to Felix’s health, and adulatory verses appeared in French and German in the Düsseldorfer Zeitung . Dubbed le Prince de l’harmonie , Felix was compared to his grandfather and likened to a young branch of an honored family that now blossomed on the Rhine, as Handel, Bach, and Beethoven looked on approvingly from high. 73 Schadow captured the enthusiasm of the moment in a commemorative coin and gold seal. Even Beethoven’s former secretary, Anton Schindler, who later would reprove Felix’s conducting, 74 publicly declared the festival had easily surpassed its fourteen predecessors. 75