Favorite Instruments of Great Composers

by Dr. Orlando A. Mansfield

It is unquestionably interesting, although occasionally somewhat irritating, to observe how many musicians, often of premier rank, fail to receive adequate credit for some of their most remarkable characteristics or activities. This is especially the case in regard to their knowledge of, or performance upon, keyboard or orchestral instruments; many composers being credited as special performers on instruments to which, in many cases, they were not particularly partial; while, per contra, many distinguished musicians have failed to received proper honor for the understanding and mastery of the very instruments in which they were most interested.

Taking as our first example the case of the violin, it must be obvious to all our readers that no great violinist or violin composer could appear before the second half of the 17th century; as it was not until that period that the Cremona school of violin manufacture, headed by Nicolo Amati, and his pupils - Guarnieri and Stradavari - came into being. Only with the improved instruments could there arise the really great performers thereon. The man in this case was Arcangelo Corelli (1653-1713). As the greatest composer of his age, of music for stringed instruments, he is justly recognized; but many fail to realize that, as a performer and teacher, we have in Corelli the founder of a school which, as developed by Somis, Pugnani, Viotti, and Baillot, practically created the art of violin playing as we have it today. Nor is the worth of Corelli's music to be discounted by the fact that, although considered at the time of its production to be of almost insurmountable difficulty, it is now deemed suitable for comparatively elementary students. And although we may all know the story of Corelli's inability to execute to Handel's satisfaction that irate master's overture to Il Trionfo del Tempo, in which occurred passages involving the 7th position while Corelli's technique ascended only to the 3d; yet, like his works, his violin playing, as Paul David remarks, "not only hindered a threatened development in the wrong direction, but also gave to this branch of musical art a sound and solid basis, which his successors could and did build upon successfully." Although resident for the larger portion of his life in the palace of Cardinal Ottoboni, at Rome, and buried with almost princely honors, there is every reason to believe that Corelli's end was hastened by the failure of his visit to Naples in 1708, where the courtesy of Alessandro Scarlatti could not prevent his limited technique from becoming apparent to the Neapolitan cogniscenti, and also by the fact that upon his return to Rome he found his place as a popular violinist usurped by a performer technically and artistically his inferior.

Spohr, Violin Virtuoso Composer

Living in an entirely different age, and possessing a musical equipment infinitely superior to that enjoyed by Corelli, but a mental attitude by no means dissimilar, was Louis Spohr (1784-1859). To the ordinary reader his is known as the composer of the symphonies "The Consecreation of Sound", the "Historical", and the "Seasons"; of the oratorios, "The Last Judgment", "Calvary", and "The Fall of Babylon"; and of the opera "Faust", afterwards eclipsed by Gounod's more popular and modern treatment of the same subject. But as a teacher of the violin and a performer upon it, Spohr, in his day, was unequalled. Indeed, to quote Paul David again, "as an executant he counts amongst the greatest of all times." His compositions at the time of their production were considered the ne plus ultra of difficulty; while, as a conductor, Spohr will always be remembered as the man who, by his first regular use of the baton, revolutionized the art of conducting throughout the whole of musical Europe. Spohr has also been credited with the invention of the chin rest; and even if this claim cannot be substantiated, both in his violin school and elsewhere he was one of the first to advocate the employment of this convenience.

Purcell and the Organ

Transferring our attention from the violin to the king of keyboard instruments, the organ, it is well to remember that Henry Purcell (1658-1695), the greatest composer of his age, was no mean performer upon the English organ of his day, which instrument, although possessing several manuals and some variety of stops, lacked the modern compass and was practically destitute of a pedal clavier. Purcell's facility on this type of organ, which called for a special style of playing, is sufficiently indicated by the fact that, in 1680, Dr. John Blow, his former teacher, is said to have resigned his position as organist of Westminster Abbey in Purcells' favor, returning and holding it for several years after Purcell's untimely death. In 1684, Purcell, as one of the most distinguished organists of his age, was engaged by "Father" Smith, the celebrated organ builder, to show off the powers and possibilities of his organ recently erected in the Temple Church, in opposition to another instrument erected in the same building by a rival builder, Renatus Harris. The contest, know in history as "The Battle of Organs", eventually terminated in Smith's favor, to which result the brilliant playing of Purcell must have contributed to no small extent. These facts, selected from many which might be mentioned, should prevent us from forgetting Purcell, the organist, while rightly recognizing Purcell, the composer. Nor is even the greatest contrapuntist of all ages - Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) - altogether free from misunderstanding with reference to his principal instruments. Of course, the first of these was the organ, "whose powers he developed to the utmost extent possible", and for which, during his Weimar period (1708-1717), he wrote some of his finest works. From 1717 to 1723, while at Cothen, the organ is less prominent; but from 1723 to his death, while Cantor of the St. Thomas School, at Leipsic, he returned to his first love both as regards performance and composition, this being the period to which we owe the publication and most probably the production of those unrivalled compositions, the St. Ann's, the B minor, and the great E minor Preludes and Fugues. Of keyboard instruments of percussion, Bach's favorite was the more expressive clavichord, in which the string was pressed by a wooden tangent, and not plucked by a "jack" or quill, as in the case of the harpsichord. But in style and treatment, many of Bach's clavier compositions suggest the harpsichord rather than the clavichord. His technique was unsuited to the piano; and this, coupled with the manifest and manifold imperfections of such earlier specimens of the instrument as he encountered in his later years, may have led to his being credited with the remark that there were only two beings who could construct a piano - its maker or the devil. Bach was also a skillful violinist, and the favorite instrument of his later years was the viola, because, says Forkel, is placed him "in the middle of the harmony, whence he could best hear and enjoy it on both sides."

With an allegiance almost equally divided between the organ and the harpsichord, the former instrument must, we think, be accepted as the principal instrument of George Frederick Handel (1685-1759). That he was the absolute master of such imperfect organs as existed in England in his day is proved by the past and present popularity of his Organ Concertos which he inserted between the acts of his oratorios from about 1733 onwards, and which, according to Dr. Burney, were the favorite food for performers on keyboard instruments for more than thirty years. As Victor Schoelcher says, Handel "continued to play concertos upon the organ, at every performance of an oratorio, to the end of his life. He generally gave them at the beginning of an act, but sometimes he introduced them even in the middle of the performance. In several of his manuscripts may be found, written with pencil, after an air or chorus, 'Segue il concerto per l'organo' (Here the concerto on the organ)." In these concertos Handel often introduced an exempore cadenza. Thus, in the second movement of his Concerto in D minor, the 4th of the 2d set, we have no less than six passages in which, over the rest or pause in the orchestral parts, are written the words organo ad libitum,  a direction to the player (in this case Handel himself) to extemporize at discretion. Some idea of this extempore playing may be gathered from an account of his performance at Oxford, in 1733, on the occasion of his receiving a doctor's degree from that university. Festing, the violinist, and Dr. Arne, the composer, both of whom were amongst the audience, assured Dr. Burney, the historian, that "neither themselves nor anyone else of their acquaintance had ever before heard such extempore or such premeditated playing on that or any other instrument". As Sir John Hawkins put it: "His amazing command of the instrument, the fullness of his harmony, the grandeur and dignity of his style, the copiousness of his imagination and the fertility of his invention were qualities that absorbed every inferior attainment." And this on an organ practically destitute of a pedal board and of almost every modern contrivance or convenience! For performance upon the modern organ, Handel's concertos have been rendered available, in a manner at once masterly and musicianly, through the arrangements of the late Mr. W.T. Best (1826-1897), the first organist of St. George's Hall, Liverpool, and the greatest organ virtuoso of his or any subsequent time. Mr. Best has also enriched these Concertos with some fine original cadenzas of his own, which he played at some of his public performances of these works at the Handel Festivals, at the Crystal Palace, London.

Mendelssohn, Pianist and Organist

Although one of the most cosmopolitan of composers, as a performer Mendelssohn was distinguished only upon the piano and organ. concerning his organ playing, old Karl Haupt (1810-1891), the Prussian organ virtuoso, is said to have been fond of relating, to the accompaniment of sundry pinches of snuff, that Mendelssohn's fondness for Bach's little E minor Prelude and Fugue was due to the fact that that composition was comparatively easy and, therefore, not beyond the limitations of his technique. This, however, is an unwarrantable insinuation. As. Mr. Cuthbert Hadden once wrote, the little E minor was a great favorite amongst eminent organists (e.g., W. T. Best), whose technical attainments were far in advance of those of Haupt and his school. Further, the facts of history are all dead against Haupt's rash assertion. For instance, on September 10, 1837, when in London, Mendelssohn undertook to play the postlude at a service in St. Paul's Cathedral, but, as Mr. F. G. Edwards remarks, "instead of playing the people out Mendelssohn kept them in". Despairing of clearing the Cathedral by any legitimate means, the vergers ordered the blowers to desist, and so the wind went out, as it happened, just before the final entry of the pedals in Bach's great A minor Fugue. Two days afterwards Mendelssohn played at Christ Church, Newgate Street; and here, although as Sir George Grove remarks, "the touch of the organ was both deep and heavy, yet he threw off arpeggios as if he were at a piano. His command of the pedal clavier was also a subject of much remark." On this occasion there was present old Samuel Wesley (the son of Charles Wesley, the poet, and the father of Samuel Sebastian Wesley, the celebrated English cathedral organist and church composer). At Wesley's request Mendelssohn played six extempore fantasias on a subject given by Wesley at the moment and also played several of Bach's more important works. During the performance Wesley turned to his daughter and remarked, "This is transcendent playing". Of Mendelssohn's other performances on English organs we can mention only a few, amongst them that of June 12, 1842, when he played the outgoing voluntary at St. Peter's, Cornhill, London, on the fist CC organ erected in England, "taking as his theme the hymn tune which had just been sung, upon which he extemporized for half an hour in a most masterly manner, winding up with a fully developed fugue. Two days later, at Christ Church, Newgate Street, he took the same theme (by request) and treated it extempore, with consummate variety and skill, in a totally different way, to the delight of his enchanted hearers." On June 17th he played Bach's Prelude and Fugue in E flat (St. Ann's), also "an extempore introduction and variations on Handel's so called Harmonious Blacksmith, ending with a fugue on the same theme." This at a concert of the Sacred Harmonic Society at Exeter Hall. These performances were no fraud. They were given in the presence of some of the finest English organists and composers. And they were such as could have been given only by an organist of first rate technical and artistic equipment.

Equally conclusive is the evidence concerning the excellence of Mendelssohn's pianoforte playing. We can only sum it up by saying that while free from all display and trickery, it was characterized by firm and brilliant technic, together with splendid tone, combined with great command of light and shade, as well as of perfect phrasing. One of his pupils, Mr. W. S. Rochstro, declares that "though lightness of touch and a delicious liquid pearliness of tone were prominent characteristics, yet his power in fortes was immense", so much so that on some occasions "It seemed as if the band had quite enough to do to work up to the chord he played." At another time, says the same authority, although the "delicacy of his piano was perfect, yet every note penetrated to the remotest corner of the room."

Clementi's Pupils

Retracing our steps chronologically, we ought not to overlook the justly termed "father of pianoforte playing" Muzio Clemeni (1752-1832), that "grand old man" of pianoforte music, whose sonatas far surpass those of Haydn and many of Mozart's, who - born when Handel was alive - lived through the great classical period, and in his unjustly neglected works gave no evidence whatever of external aid or influence. In 1776 he was brought to England by a cousin of Beckford, the author of Vathek; and after four years study at his patron's English home, under whom it is not clear, took London by storm, toured every portion of musical Europe, leaving behind him a record of improvements and inventions in pianoforte playing and construction unrivalled in his day. As Mr. E. Dannreuther says, "Clementi may be regarded as the originator of the proper treatment of the modern pianoforte...His example as a player and a teacher (Field, Hummel, Cramer, Meyerbeer, etc., were amongst his pupils), together with his compositions have left a deep and indelible mark upon everything that pertains to the piano, both mechanically and spiritually. His nervous organization must have been highly strung. Indeed, the degree of nervous power and muscular endurance required for the proper execution of some of  his long passages of diatonic octaves is prodigious and remains a task of almost insuperable difficulty to a virtuoso of today". This is in exact conformity with a statement made by the anonymous editor of the Dictionary of Musical Biography, published in London in 1814, to the effect that Clementi's "fleetness of finger is such that he is able to execute running passages of octaves and sixths with as much facility as the generality of musicians can play the single notes". In conclusion, it is interesting to note that Clementi was the first to introduce the technical device of holding down one or more keys while another key is repeated by another finger.

Meyerbeer, already mentioned as one of Clementi's pupils, is now chiefly remembered by his operas. But he was primarily intended for the career of a pianoforte virtuoso; and Moscheles, who heard him in 1814, declared that, had he continued along those lines, he would have been almost without a European competitor. So great were his powers of execution that he could read at sight the most complicated orchestral scores with unfailing accuracy. His fellow pupil under Vogler, Carl Maria von Weber, is another musician who will be remembered by his operatic works rather than by his keyboard performances. Yet, like Meyerbeer, Weber was a passable organist, and as a pianist one of the greatest and most original of his time, possessing long flexible fingers to which came so easily the extensions to be found so frequently in his pianoforte works.

Sterndale Bennett at the Piano

Second only to Mendelssohn in the charm of his compositions, and perhaps superior to him in the art of pianoforte playing was Sir William Sterndale Bennett (1816-1875). As a youth, in 1831, he played Hummel's concerto in A flat at a concert of the Royal Academy of Music, in London, in a manner which "took everybody by surprise". Some injudicious friends at once styled him the English Hummel, to the great annoyance of a fellow student, afterwards Sir George Macfarren, who opined that Bennett "had done quite well enough to deserve the use of his own name". John Field, the inventor of the Nocturne, another of Clementi's pupils, was present, and said, "That little fellow knows what he is about". The pianoforte playing thus auspiciously commenced, was continued until 1856, after which Bennett entirely ceased public playing. Concerning the latter, Davison, the great critic, said: "No such legato playing has been hears since the days of Dussek and Cramer." The same authority once declared that "Bennett's un-wearying industry as a young man, over minute details, was one of the secrets of the individuality of his playing": and that "the result alone was sufficient to differentiate him from many eminent pianists of his time." Ferdinand Hiller spoke of his playing as "perfect in mechanism, and, while remarkable for an extraordinary delicacy of nuance, full of soul and fire"; Mendelssohn, in 1837, declared his performance to be the talk of Leipsic; the Musical Examiner of 1844 asserted that as a pianist he had "no superior and but few rivals"; Piatti spoke of his "fine, crisp, diamond like touch"; Schumann, in 1838, said that he and Mendelssohn "play the pianoforte like angels, and with no more assumption than children"; while Mr. W. Shakespeare, hearing him after his retirement, noticed that he still possessed "a remarkable firmness of touch, splendid accent, wonderfully clear technic, and a style of phrasing as pure and fastidious as his own music". With all these encomiums, it is no wonder that - as his own son and biographer remarks - "regret would naturally come that in the fullness of his powers, Bennett should have discarded, to so great an extent, that branch of his muscianship on which his individuality was so clearly pronounced."

Composers San Instruments

In order to say something on the negative side of our subject, we ought to refer to this celebrated French symphonist, Hector Berlioz (1803-1869), a man who, like Richard Wagner, had no "particular instrument". Only Wagner could play the piano "indifferently well", whereas Berlioz, when on his Russian tour of 1847, informed the wife of one of the court functionaries (who had refused him the only available hall for his concerts because the Frenchman would not undertake to perform at one of the gatherings of the nobility) that "he could at one time play very well on the flagolet, flute and guitar," but that of these instruments he had "not touched one for 25 years". Berlioz then sarcastically suggested that if the Marshall, "a respectable old fellow of eighty", would be satisfied with a solo on the drum, he (Berlioz) might appear to greater advantage. He secured the hall - not by his sarcasm, but by the intervention of a friend. Similarly, at Breslau, he had great difficulty in persuading a fond parent, anxious for him to give his son some violin lessons, that he did not play the violin, but caused it to be played. The father had never heard of a conductor, and only after attendance at one of Berlioz's concerts could he understand "a musician presenting himself in public without being an executant."

We must now close this lengthy, but all to inadequate, survey by remarking that in the study of musical history, as well as in the correct placing of any musician, it is only just and fair to endeavor to realize every department of that musician's activities; and not to allow the chief things in a composer's career or performances to blind us to some lesser enterprises or endeavors which, if not so strongly in evidence, are by no means unimportant. To lose sight of these, or to ignore them altogether, would be an incomplete and one sided method of study or estimation. The whole is, of course, greater than its part; but the whole is made up of parts, and as Carlyle says, the artists and not the Artisans in History are the men "who inform and ennoble the humblest department with an idea of the whole, and habitually know that only in the whole is the partial to be truly discerned." The desire we have for the presentation of the whole truth concerning a composer's powers and activities is at once our only apology for this paper and our only desire for its appreciation.