Ignaz Moscheles: New Year in Edinburgh 1828

I do not apologies for my continued interest in Ignaz Moschles (1794-1870): he is one of the most significant characters in European musical history. The fact that he spent a considerable amount of time in the United Kingdom makes him of importance to all historians of Victorian musical endeavour. 

In 1828, while people were still wishing each other ‘a happy new year,’ Ignaz Moscheles arrived in Edinburgh. Someone had found him lodgings in Frederick Street, and curiously, he was ‘much struck by the ‘curious specimens’ of architecture’ that he saw there. I guess that it is strange to find such discussions in a musician’s diary.

EDINBURGH, 3^rd January—Yesterday's walk through the streets was a series of surprises. As I looked at the old houses, consisting in some instances of sixteen stories, inhabited by the poorest families, renting single rooms, each with its dimly lighted window, I seemed to look at a feeble attempt at illumination. Standing on the viaduct [1] which connects the Old and New Town, I had these old houses to my left, on the right, the handsome Princes Street, and the whole of the new quarter, now in the process of building, which is to consist of a number of crescents, squares, and streets, filled with palatial houses, built of freestone. Such buildings are to be seen elsewhere, but Princes Street is certainly unique in its way; there is a long row of houses on one side, intersected by sloping streets, from which you get a view of the Frith of Forth, while the opposite side opens to your view Edinburgh Castle on its rock, to which you ascend by a terrace garden. As I was taking my evening stroll, I saw a party of Highlanders, kilt and all, coming off guard. They marched down from the Castle and passed close by me, regaling my ears with genuine Scottish music of drum and fife’. [2]

‘Our lodgings in Frederick Street, which were taken for us beforehand, were curious specimens of architecture. One peculiarity consisted in a raised ground-floor, that ran under the neighbouring house, but disconnected with any staircase leading to the upper stories. The next house that, on the contrary, had no rooms on the ground-floor, and the visitor, after mounting a staircase, found a bell, which secured his admission to the first story. House doors and steps were quite open; many other houses were constructed on this curious principle."

The success of this winter expedition, undertaken by Moscheles for professional purposes, was seriously imperilled by an Italian Opera Company [3] which had forestalled him, and he was obliged to put up with a third-rate orchestra, got together any how from regimental bandsmen ; the Highlanders, with their bare legs and kilts, being the poor substitutes for a well-trained orchestra. The concert room was only two-thirds full, but Moscheles, in his fantasia, the ‘Anticipations of Scotland,’ created great enthusiasm; and the newspapers, one and all, condemned the apathy shown by this poor attendance at his concert. This appeal to the good sense of the Edinburgh folk had its effect, for the two next concerts were filled to overflowing.

Notes

[1] Old North Bridge built in 1763 and demolished in 1894 when the current North Bridge was constructed by Sir William Arrol.  The new Bridge opened in 1897.

[2] No mention of the bagpipe; that was to come later.

[3] However, the Italian Opera were not performing on the first night of Moscheles recital. Caledonian Mercury, Thursday, January 10, 1828

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Ignaz Moscheles: Blunder in Polite Society

I have adopted Ignaz Moscheles as an ‘honorary Englishman’ so I found this short anecdote rather amusing. Of course it is not side-splittingly funny in today’s terms but is a little bit of gentle humour. It is worth recording.

One of the most popular of the classical virtuosi was Ignaz Moscheles, whose seventy-six years of life was ended in 1870. A friend of Beethoven, a teacher of Mendelssohn, a great player, teacher, and composer, he exercised a most beneficial influence in the musical world with his strong personality. For twenty years or more, Moscheles made his home in England. A remark of his made at a dinner table soon after his arrival there illustrates the difficulty which foreigners have in conquering the English language.

One evening, when the cloth had been removed and the hostess had asked him what fruit he preferred, he hastily referred to the knowledge of English he had secured by a study of the dictionary, and politely answered that he wished to be helped to ‘some sneers.’

This answer produced a burst of laughter on the part of the guests, who could not contain their merriment at the dilemma in which the musician's ignorance of the language had placed him. Moscheles hastened to explain. It seemed that on searching for English sentences he had learned that the idiom ‘not to care a fig’ was synonymous with the verb ‘to sneer,’ and so supposed that in asking for a ‘sneer’ he had the right word for fig...

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IGNAZ MOSCHELES: A Brief Biography & Eulogy

I found this short note in a book written by Samuel Henry Morais in 1880,  Eminent Israelites of the Nineteenth Century: A Series of Biographical Sketches.  This was written a mere ten years after the composer’s death. It is not the most important contemporary notice, yet it succeeds in presenting a charming portrait of a once highly regarded composer who has largely fallen into neglect.  I have adopted him as an honorary Englishman for the purposes of this blog. Certainly the 26 years he spent in London and touring the country giving innumerable recitals and concerts deserves our attention. His name should be of vital importance to all British music lovers for his determined work to introduce the music of Beethoven to these shores.  

I append a few footnotes to this extract for interest.

The art of Music and that of writing are not necessarily twin-born. But it occasionally happens that the hand whose delicate touch evokes sweet strains can wield a graceful pen. This double acquirement adds lustre to the possessor, and éclat to his performances.

But in Ignaz Moscheles [1794-1870] three qualifications combined to render his name famous. He was admired as a player, a composer, and a scholar. True, many years were given him to reach the height he attained, but when very young he had already moved upward so rapidly, that all could predict his future greatness.

Ignaz Moscheles was born at Prague, in Bohemia, Austria, on the 30th May, 1794. As early as his eighth year he received instruction in music from F. D. Weber, [1] director of the conservatory. The boy's innate talents developed fast, and when eleven he performed on the piano with the ease and skill of a finished artist. His introduction to men of note naturally followed, and each hailed the rising genius.

While still a lad, Moscheles went to Vienna, and there formed the acquaintance of Haydn and Beethoven, who advised him to continue studying. He became the pupil of Albrechtsberger, [2] under whom he made such progress as to create amazement. He competed with Hummel [3], then reputed the first pianist in Germany.

Moscheles now undertook an extensive continental tour, his playing creating everywhere rapturous delight. In 1820 he removed to England, where he resided for twenty-six years. Here his abilities met with full recognition, his popularity' increasing to so wide an extent, that, in 1825, he was appointed Professor in the Academy of London; also Conductor of the Philharmonic Concerts, holding both stations more than two decades. It must be borne in mind that few could obtain the latter position, it being granted only to a musician of the very highest order.

Moscheles rendered incalculable service to the musical world, by inducing the English to cultivate the compositions of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, and other acknowledged masters. In fact, he brought more influence to bear upon this than any who preceded or succeeded him. His thorough knowledge of the pianoforte, and capacity to show forth its wonderful applications, mainly tended to the glory he achieved. Then his rendition of Beethoven's sonatas and concertos left him without a superior, and. probably, an equal. 

In 1846 Moscheles was chosen Director of the Conservatory of Leipzig, spending there the remainder of his life. As a composer, he wrote, for the piano, violin, and other instruments, pieces which are splendid specimens of classical music, and marvels of perfection and beauty.

Moscheles' cultured mind enabled him to search into matters other than those to which he specially devoted himself. His literary work, an English translation of Schindler's Life of Beethoven to which he added valuable notes, does him honour.

The career of Ignaz Moscheles ended at Leipzig, in Saxony, Germany, on the 10th of March, 1870, Productions of sterling merit will always declare their own praise, and he must be deaf to the voice of truth who does not hear the deserved eulogy.

Morais, Samuel Henry Eminent Israelites of the Nineteenth Century: A Series of Biographical Sketches (1880) E. Stern & Co. Philadelphia USA [with minor edits]

[1] Frederick Dionys(us) Weber (1766-142) was both a respected teacher and composer. He was a founder and the first director of the Prague Conservatoire.  He wrote a number of operas and music for wind band.

[2] Johann Georg Albrechtsberger (1736-1809) was a Viennese composer, teacher and church organist. Amongst his many pupils was Ludwig Van Beethoven.

[3] Johan Nepomuka Hummel (1778-1837) was a Hungarian pianist and composer. He studied with Mozart. Between 1787 and 1792 he was resident in London.  His music lies at the crossroads between the Classical and the Romantic traditions. 

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Ignaz Moscheles’ Train Trip to Liverpool

Moscheles (1794-1870) is a composer I have adopted as being of interest to British Music enthusiasts. Although he was born in Prague and subsequently died in Leipzig he spent much time in the United Kingdom. Many of his works were performed here and he was friends with all the key players in English music. His description of a train journey is of great interest. 

In February 1831 Ignaz Moscheles, on a professional tour in the north of England, speaks of his first railway journey.

"On the 18th I went by rail from Manchester to Liverpool; [1] the fare was five shillings. At 1.30 I mounted one of the omnibuses, which carried all passengers gratis to the great building called the 'station’. [2] Eight to ten carriages, each about as long as an omnibus, are joined closely to one another ; each carriage contains twelve places with seats like comfortable arm-chairs ; at a given signal every traveller takes his place, which is marked with the number of his ticket, and the railway guards lock the carriages. Then, and not before, the engine is attached to the foremost carriage; the motion, although one seems to fly, is hardly perceptible, and the traveller is amazed when he looks out of the window and observes at what incredible speed the train approaches the distant object and suddenly whirls by it. Words cannot describe the impression made on me by this steam excursion on the first railway made in England, and the transports I felt with an invention that seemed to me little short of magic. The famous engineer, Sir John Stephenson [3], has realized his project amid untold struggles and difficulties."

[1] The Liverpool and Manchester Railway was opened on 15 September 1830.

[2] The Manchester station was situated at London Road. It is now a part of the Manchester Science Museum.  The terminal at Liverpool was located at Crown Street.
[3] It was George Stephenson assisted by his son, Robert Stephenson who engineered the Manchester to Liverpool Railway.

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Ignaz Moscheles: The Recollections of Ireland for Piano

A few days ago I published a post about Ignaz Moscheles: The Recollections of Ireland for Piano. I held my hand up and admitted that the composer was not British. However he did spend a considerable part of his composing and playing career on these shores. The subjoined review is from The Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review from Oct 1826. I make no apologies for including this discussion of the Recollections. For one thin it shows how different is the approach to musical criticism between our own day and that of 185 years ago. Nowadays the work would either be described in two dozen words or subjected to a Schenkerian analysis that would mystify most readers and bore the remainder. I am not suggesting that we return to prosy description of our music like our Georgian forbears. However there must surely be some lessons to be learnt.

Certainly the work has borne up to the passing of the years. It is still an impressive pieces that commands our interest and attention.

The Recollections of Ireland, a Grand Fantasia on ‘The Groves of Blarney’, ‘Garry Owen’, and St Patrick’s Day for pianoforte, with orchestral accompaniments by I Moscheles. Cramer, Addison and Beale and S. Chappell

This lesson was composed by Mr. Moscheles for his own performance, at his own concert, last season, where we had the pleasure of hearing it, at a time when the composer was stimulated alike by the occasion, and the natural ardour of genius in the prosecution of its own creations, to give it the greatest possible effect, and when it flowed from under his hand with a smoothness, brilliancy, and mastery of art that called forth the undivided and enthusiastic applause of a crowded audience.

To us, memory still throws her charms around ‘Recollections of Ireland’, but to most of our readers this satisfaction is denied, and we must therefore, however reluctantly, yield to her power only so much as to bear in mind the effect of which the lesson is capable, while we turn to its closer perusal. Although written for a similar occasion to that which called forth ‘The Fall of Paris’, the two lessons are so essentially different in almost every point, that they do not come within the limits of comparison. The latter was written at a time when Mr. M.’s talents as a performer were but new to an English public, and when as a composer he was totally unknown, and his object was to show his power in both ways. When the Recollections are composed, he writes in the full confidence of an established reputation, for numerous pupils whom he has himself qualified to appreciate his style, and for a public, who by frequent opportunities of hearing his performance, are prepared to receive his productions with the approbation they deserve.

These are the principal points of difference, yet when all is considered we should be inclined to rank The Recollections of Ireland’ higher as a composition, and in its own particular style, than ‘The Fall of Paris’ on the ground that is draws its effects from more natural sources, and is written more with a view of pleasing than astonishing – in fact, that Mr. Moscheles is here seen more in the light of a composer, whereas in the former instance he was to be regarded rather in character of an artist.

The introduction can only be considered as a field for the powers of execution, but this execution perhaps, generally below the present standard of difficulty, is more chastened, and freer from that straining after effect than is usual, even with Mr. M. 

The choice of airs is very happy- they are popular, good in themselves, and afford great room for contrast. The first, now best known under the name of ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ is arranged with the delicacy of taste and truth of feeling that bespeaks the refined artist.

The key of F major, at the conclusion of this air, changes to a movement, sombre in its modulation, in the key of D flat major. There s a degree of sameness pervading the next four pages, which consist principally of difficult arpeggios, dependent on harmony for effect. The composer however soon shows both the power of contrast and his knowledge of effects. The lively air of ‘Garry Owen’ steals upon us by degrees, till at length, after a gradual change through B sharp, to the brilliant key of B flat major, this exhilarating melody bursts forth, aided in its sudden appearance by the truly characteristic style of its arrangement. Here we conceive Mr. Moscheles to be more in his element than when treating the first air; his genius is of that buoyant sparking, and energetic kind, the selects either the most gay and joyous themes to work upon, or seizes on the strongest and most vehement expression of passion, but which rests not with the same felicity on subjects of a middle class, the simply pathetic, or moderately brilliant. The present air is carried through six pages of shewy, but light and close execution – that is to say, there are none of those immoderate and unmeaning skips which do little beyond astonishing at the instant. ‘St Patrick’s Day’ is treated in the same manner without monotony for two pages, when for the next two it is combined with ‘Garry Owen,’ and then follows a short andante in ¾ time, of a most singular and ingenious construction. The object here aimed at is the combination of the three airs, so that each may be distinctly recognized, and yet all so blended together as to form an agreeable and not incongruous whole.

The difficulty of the task will be readily acknowledged, but Mr. Moscheles has succeeded admirably. The combination of airs in this manner is not new, but it is by no means a common practice, and the means by which it is so well accomplished in the present instance are so simple, that although it generally requires a practiced ear to trace such combinations, almost the most uncultivated, may follow this.

The airs being transferred alternately to the two hands. The greatest difficulty of this portion of the lesson, however, lies in its performance, in the skill with which each air is made to blend with the others, and yet to bear its proper character, without obtruding too much on the notice of the  hearer, and bearing down its companions. The concluding tow pages are in 6/8 time, spirited and brilliant.

We have no other comments to offer on ‘Recollections of Ireland.’ To those who have seen it, or who had the good fortune to hear it performed by the author, no recommendation will be needed, and to those who have not, we trust we have already said to raise their curiosity. One more remark we must make, which is, that Mr. Moscheles’ style appears by this specimen to have lost none of its original brilliancy, but to have gained in solidity and strength of construction by the curtailment of the superfluity of ornament which has marked many of his pieces, and which may be compared to a plant overloaded with flowers, whose strength is permanently wasted, though its temporary beauty is increased.

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Ignaz Moscheles:Fantasia Recollections of Ireland, Op.69

Ignaz Moscheles is not British, but he did compose a delicious piece entitled Fantasia Recollections of Ireland, Op.69. I just love every note of this short four movement ‘concerto-ette.’ It is full of fun and poignancy, excitement and reflection. Never for a moment does the technical prowess of the soloist have cause to relax.
The work was allegedly written shortly after the composer's visit to Dublin in January 1826. His diary has preserved his description of the hair-raising crossing from Holyhead to Kingstown. He wrote that ‘in the howling storm, and as sea-water hissed into his cabin, he put his faith in an Almighty Providence and thought calmly of his sleeping wife and baby.’ But all was to be well: Moscheles was to see his family again. Henry Roche, the writer of the Hyperion CD liner notes suggests that this work was written out of gratitude for his survival. However another slightly more prosaic suggestion is that he was in the habit of concluding his Irish recitals with a ‘Fantasy of Irish Airs.’ So perhaps these Recollections were just an extension of this conceit. But I will stick with the former explanation.
These potboilers were written to a definite formula. For example the opening movement had to have a long orchestral introduction before the soloist enters in the 'grand manner.' It is all about virtuosity - usually through more and more complex development of material. The succeeding movements explore differing aspects of the Irish folk tradition. For example the slow movement is based on the well known tune 'The Groves of Blarney'. However we know this melody as 'The Last Rose of Summer' nowadays. This is a beautiful rendition of this tune, complete with subtle ornamentation. Soon we are into the allegro based on a Redcoat tune called 'Garry Owen'.
The last movement is interestingly described by Roche as belonging to an Ivesian soundscape- insofar as Moscheles combines most of the tunes he has used in the 'traditionally ebullient conclusion.'
The Recollections of Ireland is available on The Romantic Piano Concerto, Vol. 36 – Moscheles 4 & 5 Hyperion CDA67430
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

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