Music

OF course the great musical fact of the season is Dr. Hans von Bülow’s playing. Indeed, while we have Von Bülow with us, it is hard to talk or think of anything else. At the time of our writing this the second concert of the series has not yet taken place, so we must be very general in our remarks for the present, leaving a more detailed account of his performances for a future number. Taken as a whole, we must call Von Bülow the must absolute performer that this country has yet heard. As the New York Tribune said of him, when be plays a composition he gives you the music of it, the whole music, and nothing but the music. After the first ten bars you completely forget that there is such a man as Hans von Bülow in existence, you become as much engrossed in the music itself as if the famous performer were merely an every-day affair about whom you have not the faintest curiosity. You go to hear him play, and you stay to listen to the music he is playing. Now for a man to produce this effect upon his listeners implies much; more, indeed, than appears at first sight. He must have such a knowledge of the composition he is playing, as to have made it completely his owown ; his technical, intellectual, and spirituaual mastery of it must be absolute ; he must know it as thoroughly as the composer himseself. Let us consider for a moment by what means this consummate mastery over a composition is attainable. The old saw, that “ It takes a genius to comprehend a genius,” has doubtless some truth in it, but if followed out practically it will lead to utter confusion. For a man to comprehend a work of genius, he certainly must possess some power correlative to that power which created it; but no man, were he even the mightiest genius the world ever saw, can fully comprehend a great work at the first dash, any more than he can create a great work without working at it. Indeed, if we consider closely, all worth is exactly measured by the amount of labor it represents, that is, by the amount of intellectual and physical activity it has called into play. Do not mistake our meaning; we say physical and intellectual activity, not conscious exertion. Some hare-brained enthusiast may Spend the better part of his life and the whole of his weak mind in writing a doleful five-act tragedy, and be carried to the mad-house or even to the grave in consequence, and a Shakespeare will sit down and dash you off an immortal sonnet, the wonder of coming ages, in an hour. But the sonnet really represents more real work, as we rate work, than the tragedy ; kind Nature stood at Shakespeare’s elbow with her strong, helping arm, and did most of it for him, while our lunatic had to do the whole of his hard task himself. And we who read the sonnet must—with what help we can get — do as much work as went to the making, if we would fully comprehend it. Thus genius can forestall experience. Completely to understand I Hamlet, for example, we must either have that same prophetic power that Shakespeare had, or else make up what we lack of it by experience or investigation.

It would be absurd to suppose that Dr. von Bülow has been gifted By nature to the same extent with Beethoven, Handel, Bach, and many more men, whose music he plays. The great pianist himself would be the last to claim such a thing. Now, what are the qualities which he can bring to bear upon the study of the works of these men ? Natural musical talent and the most exhaustive special musical knowledge we will take for granted, as wo safely may. Added to this the man is a very remarkable scholar even for a German, not in the branches of musical lore and æsthetics merely, but in the broader and broadest fields of philosophy, literature, and politics, — a man of the very largest culture; will correspond with you in Latin and read Æschylus in the original with the greatest ease, if we may believe what is told of him. He is also a man of the world, a man of many countries and languages, who has rubbed much against his fellow-men, at ease and consequently thoroughly himself everywhere, able to meet the whole human race from clown to courtier on an equal footing. Add to this the element of gentle birth, the early companionship of refined and cultured people ; a culture not of the study merely, hut also of the drawing-room, making him sure, from the start, of his position in the world, and wholly without self consciousness. Then last, but not least, let us think of his power of hard and protracted work, both intellectual and physical, and the experience of life which the exercise of that power gives. All these qualities Von Bülow can bring to bear upon the study of a work in an almost unprecedented degree ; his understanding of a composition is larger, broader, and deeper than any we have met with in other artists, and his conscientious veneration for the composer is such that he will not allow himself to stand as an interpreter between him and the public, until he has thoroughly mastered every detail of Ins composition, Every note and phrase is indelibly fixed in his prodigious memory; not the smallest detail is slighted. In preparing concerts with orchestral accompaniment, his loving care for the composer’s honor leads him to take the greatest pains with his performers; not an orchestral phrase but must be rendered with the greatest perfection that the executive means at Ids command will allow; the tutti passages are to him as important as his own solo part. It is pleasant to see him at rehearsal get up from his seat at the piano-forte and go and hum over some phrase to a clarinet or oboe, so that it may be played exactly as he wishes it, then cross over and listen to the violas to see whether they are making the most of their part. If a phrase is to be taught to the whole orchestra, he will play it on the piano-forte with such convincing decision that after a few trials it seems impossible for the players to go amiss. Everything that can be known about what he is playing or directing, he knows; and all around him feel that he knows it.

But knowledge, even the most profound and diversified, is not enough to make an artist. Sentiment and passion have their share in the work to be done. Perhaps the greatest example of all-subduing passion in playing that this country has yet seen was Anton Rubinstein, his playing in strong passages was as of the whirlwind. His emotional fury was most intense, and, alas, too often uncontrolled. A most precious element in art, and in all that has to do with art, is this same passion ; passio, suffering, the potential sorrow there is in a man. Nay, is it not, after all, the very prime quality in an artist, the integer without which all other qualities, either natural or acquired, are but so many zeros, of no value whatever — this quality of sharing the sorrows, struggles, and privations of mankind, without which no true, vital sympathy with their joys, victories, and rewards is conceivable ? I Or take passion in its more restricted, physical sense, the mere intense hunger of the senses; that also is an invaluable quality in an artist, when confined to its proper limits. But these violent, elemental qualities in man are valuable only for the work they do, for whatever good the man can accomplish by their means. We do not value a steam-engine for its power of blowing off steam, much less do we esteem a man for the mastery his passions have gained over him. It is only confined steam that does work, In Von Bülow all the violent, elemental qualities are so beautifully latent, so really effective ! Rubinstein would give himself up to the fierce tempest of feeling, and ride it Mazeppalike through most wondrous regions, consuming, not his passion, but himself and all who heard him; Von Bülow has his fiery passion-steed well in hand. Our emotions while hearing him play may be less violent than when we hear Rubinstein, but they are more satisfying and enduring; were it not so cold a word, we should say more legitimate. We cannot imagine tiring of Von Bülow’s playing, even if we should hear him every day. We had not expected to find this passionate element in his playing ; but we do find it in a very high degree, and it is satisfactory to find it not merely animal, though strong and intense, but thoroughly held in check by the intellectual side of his nature. A more utterly commanding man we have never been under the influence of; everything he does carries conviction with it. It is not yet time for us to speak of his playing in detail, of his clear, resonant touch, his marvelous technique, marvelous in anybody but doubly so in a man with so small a hand; and his indefatigable strength; of all that we will speak when we have had time to maturely consider his playing in connection with the pieces performed. At present we wish merely to say that he is the most complete musician that this country has yet heard.