It was on this mid-December day in 1792 Vienna that two of Western Classical Music’s most iconic composing figures sat together for what would become, for one, a pivotal moment in an already burgeoning musical career and, for the other, a remarkably lucrative tutorship that would add to an already impressive professorial track record. The two key players in this historical meet up of musical minds were Bonn native Ludwig van Beethoven, and 18th century Austrian composer Franz Joseph Haydn,Vice-Kapellmeister to the esteemed Esterházy family. The pair had first met two years prior, in Bonn, when Herr Haydn, accompanied by the impresario Johann Peter Salomonhad taken rest upon their journey to London where Haydn was scheduled to perform. By all accounts, it was a positive meeting of musical minds – for in 1792, a 22-year old Beethoven again met his contemporary Haydn, this time presenting the maestro with two recently written scores: hisCantatas on the Death of Emperor Joseph II (WoO 87)and theElevation of Emperor Leopold II (WoO O88). Haydn was said to have been so impressed with the young German’s work, he offered Ludwig lessons in composition should Beethoven take it upon himself to relocate to Vienna – which he did, in November that same year. It would be a rather rocky affair for the tempestuous Beethoven – Herr Haydn, it seemed, was often absent from Vienna, or otherwise pre-occupied with projects of his own. This was not the one-on-one exclusive tutorship Beethoven had in mind when he left for the Austrian capital. As a matter of principle – though not so bold as to make it an open secret – a frustrated Beethoven would acquire the tutorship of other teachers in occulto when Haydn absconded from the classroom and the Esterházy court.
Franz Joseph Haydn
A major turning point in Beethoven’s formerly held reverence for his esteemed Tutor would occur in August of 1795, when an excited Ludwig performed at the salon of one Prince Lichnowskyhis newly composed Piano Trios (Opus I) with Haydn listed as the eveningsGuest of Honor. After the performance concluded, Beethoven, feeling quite proud of himself, requested of Herr Haydn his opinion on the work. Much to Ludwig’s unexpected horror, Haydn responded not with unadulterated praise for the Trio, but rather with a critique: the work was simply too long, he told a shocked Beethoven – and it needed a fair amount of work before it could even be published. Beethoven – in typical Beethoven fashion - never forgot this betrayal by his former idol. On one memorable occasion, when the begrudging composer was asked about the pair’s relationship, Beethoven famously quipped“I never learned anything from Haydn!”
Listen below the work that first brought together this dynamic pair – and which ultimately brought an unsuspecting Beethoven to Vienna and Haydn: Ludwig’s Cantata on the Death of the Emperor Joseph II. (Featuring the works sixth and penultimate movement "Hier schlummert seinen stillen Frieden" (Here the patient sufferer slumbers peacefully), sung by Kiwi soprano Kiri Te Kanawa under maestro Sir Colin Davis:
Fun Fact:
The Cantata on the Death of the Emperor Joseph II, written by Beethoven as a tribute to the recently deceased Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II of Austria on the occasion of the monarch's death in February of 1790 curiously would not be performed until 1884, for reasons that to date, still remain unclear. All that scholars of this period know with any certainty, is that the work was rejected by the minutes of the Literary Society in March of that year, who stated that “for various reasons the proposed cantata cannot be performed." Neither was the work ever published. All that survived of the cantata was Beethoven’s original manuscript, which was purchased at auction in 1813 by the composer Johann Nepomuk Hummel for a private collection, which was later sent, once more, to the auction block in 1884. It would receive its premiere performance in November of that year in Vienna, followed by a repeat performance and subsequent premiere in Beethoven’s hometown of Bonn in June of 1885 to much critical acclaim. The German composer Johannes Brahms famously praised the work, writing to music critic Eduard Hanslick in 1885 “Even if there were no name on the title page, none other could be conjectured—it is Beethoven through and through! The beautiful and noble pathos, sublime in its feeling and imagination, the intensity, perhaps violent in its expression; moreover, the voice-leading and declamation, and in the two outer sections all the characteristics which we may observe in and associate with his later works.”
Today’s Quote of the Day comes to us from 18th century Austrian Classical composer Franz Joseph Haydn, in honor of the 233rd anniversary of the premiere of his opera Armida, which held it’s debut this 26th day of February in 1784 at the Opera House of Esterháza:
“It is the melody which is the charm of music, and it is that which is most difficult to produce. The invention of a fine melody is a work of genius.”
- Joseph Haydn
Did You Know? Herr Haydn’s beautifully melodic Armida would be written and premiered during the composers’ lengthy tenure as Kapellmeister to the royal Esterházy court, specifically for the Opera House at the rural Palace of Esterháza (of which Haydn became a resident, as a “house officer;” located some 40 km (25 mi) outside of the Esterházy primary home (Schloss Esterházy) in Eisenstadt. Haydn, who considered Armida to be his finest work (justly so: it would serve as the most successful of the composer’s operas to have been staged at the theater), would have undoubtedly attached much sentimental value to the work, as it would be the last opera he would pen for the Opera House of Esterháza. Armida was notable for both theater and composer as it would be Haydn’s first venture into the genre of opera seria at the palace opera house – a genre first introduced at Esterháza by the Italian composer Giuseppe Sarti in 1783 with the wildly successful production of Giulio Sabino. Within a month of Giulio’s… premiere at the theater, Haydn was already informing his publisher of his intent to compose in the genre (perhaps driven by the immense popularity of Sarti’s opera, or due to possible pressure from reigning Prince Nikolaus Esterházy, Haydn’s most important patron). Sarti himself would attend a performance of Armida in 1784, during which the Italian musician reportedly befell so overcome with a feeling of exquisite bliss, he could barely contain himself: allegedly
“jump[ing] over the benches that separated him from the orchestra, and leap[ing] to embrace the astonished maestro,” exclaiming, "It's Sarti who embraces you! Sarti, who wanted to see the great Haydn, to admire his beautiful works, but who had no hope of admiring anything so beautiful as this!" [1]
Apparently, Sarti was not the only one to have been bewitched by Haydn’s Armida: the opera would boast an unprecedented run of 54 performances over a short time span of just four years (from 1784 – 1788).
Listen below to a moving rendition of "Se pietade avete, oh Numi" (If you feel pity) from Act I of Franz Joseph Haydn'sArmida. Italian mezzo-soprano Cecila Bartoli performs under late maestro Nikolaus Harnoncourt:
Footnote:
[1](Source of Quoted text): 18th century music critic and theorist Nicolas-Étienne Framery of Rouen.
18th century Austrian composer Franz Joseph Haydn, known by contemporaries as the “Father of the Symphony” experienced most precarious beginnings from within the Classical Music sphere. Having moved away from his parents and family home at the unprecedented early age of six years,young Haydn would take up residence and singing lessons under the tutelage of relativeJohann Matthias Frankh,the schoolmaster and choirmaster who lived some 12 km (7.5 miles) away from his parents in the city of Hainburg. Here, Haydn would refine his skill as a vocalist in the local church choir whilst simultaneously taking up the study and practice of harpsichord and violin. He would soon attract the attention of one Georg von Ruetter, director of the great cathedral of Vienna. Ruetter pressed the young musician to enroll as a member of thechoir of St. Stephen's.
It seemed the budding young singer was facing the prospect of a most fruitful life within the musical sector, but, much like his later hero Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (whose sticky situation we will learn about below), the hopeful musician also had his share of powerful detractors. The neophyte Haydn, who was said to possess the gifts of a learned man, nonetheless retained the boyish insouciance brought upon by youth: it would be during a lesson at the Church’s school that a young Haydn would chop off the pigtail of a fellow pupil seated in front of him in class, which brought upon the wrath of both the academy and it’s patron, Empress Maria Theresa of Austria, who angrily denounced the boy and his vocal talents as substandard, declaring“young Haydn sings like a crow!”
This scandal could not go unpunished, and the sentiment offered forth by the empress forced the hand of the church, who promptly expelled Haydn from both it’s choir and academy – but not before administering to the young composers backside a solid round of flogging! Enjoy below the tender aria "Del Mio Core Il Voto" from Haydn's L'anima del Filosofo (Soul of the Philosopher); sung by French soprano Patricia Petibon:
This punishment, oddly, would be repeated in the life of contemporaneous Austrian composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whom Haydn revered above all others at the court of newly installed Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II in March of 1782.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
It would be following the successful premiere of Mozart’sopera seriaIdomeneo,which had premiered in Munich the previous year, that word of the gifted composer would reach sufficient enough height for the composer to be summoned to Vienna and the presence of his employer Prince-Archbishop Colloredo of Salzburg, who had been attending the celebrations provided for the accession of Emperor Joseph II to the Austrian throne. Mozart, filled to the brim with an overwhelming sense of confidence following his successful run in Munich (and with perhaps a soupçon of cockiness) fully expected to be presented with and accept commission to perform before the Emperor at the residence of one Countess Thun for a fee equal to half of his annual salary at Salzburg, which Colloredo vetoed. This was an injustice most foul for the young composer – and yet another slap in the face to be added to the already contentious relationship betweenemployer and employee. Mozart felt himself subjected to the standard of living as experienced by the most lowly servant (which composers were generally considered at the time, to be fair), as Colloredo had the audacity to set him up in precarious and dilapidated lodgings at the headquarters of the Teutonic Order, wherein the brooding composerwas made forced to dine alongside cooks and valets – a dramatic fall from the graces ofElector Carl Theodorwho had previously set up the composer in luxurious surroundings during his journey to Mannheim. Mozart apparently had decided enough was enough, and, after having been called a "scoundrel"amongst other unappealing pejorativesby the archbishop, stood his ground - threatening to resign as composer to Colloredo should his needs continue to go unobtained, to which the archbishop defiantly refused. Mozart would suffer one more grueling month as little more than a benefit composer performing gratis, before he finally got his wish - witha little more than he asked for to "boot."* (*Those familiar with this anecdote will appreciate this rather drôle pun!) In a letter dated 9th of June 1781 to his father Leopold back in Salzburg, Mozart describes his most unceremonious firing – not by Colloredo himself - who refused to provide an audience for the composer and instead hid within his private chambers - but rathervia proxy(he sent his steward, oneCount Arcoto do the dirty work):
“[just] as this fellow is forced to hand in his petition himself, instead of granting him access, you throw him out the door and give him a kick in his behind!”
This statement was to be taken very literally: Mozart was in fact kicked“in the arse”by the Count, which prompted the incensed young composer to pen to his father:
“I care little for Salzburg and not at all for the Archbishop: I shit on both of them!”
Enjoy below Ilia's beautiful aria "Se il padre perdei" from Mozart's Idomeneo; sung by Swiss soprano and Mozart aficionado Edith Mathis under the baton of maestro Karl Böhm:
It's high time for another installment of
TRIVIA & HUMOR.
In this, Unraveling Musical Myth's 12th journey behind the scenes of Western
Classical music's lives of centuries past, we once more indulge into the
sometimes horrifying, almost always hilarious
harems of hell on earth in which our beloved icons of yore so greatly
enjoyed (or, in some instances, recoiled from).
Without further ado, I present to the readerTRIVIA & HUMOR XII:
German composer
Richard Wagner
may not have been
triskaidekaphobic
(as far as we know). However, according to a statistician living in 1895, the
vast multitude of incidences in which the Number 13 would make an appearance
in the controversial composer's life would have been sufficient enough grounds
to make
Schoenberg
faint dead away like a
groupie
at a
Liszt
concert.
Here are more than a few instances in which the number occurs throughout
Wagner’s work/life, as recounted by author Willey Francis Gates from
the calculations of a “statistically inclined writer” living in the 19th
century:
Of course we see what we want to see, and much of this is a stretch – like
picking at straws, but a clever anecdote nonetheless:
Born 1813: The sum of the figures in 1813 equals 13. (1+8=9; 1+3=4:
9+4=13) Died on the 13th day of February, 1883
The full date of his death was the 13th day of the 2nd month in ’83.
It makes 13 twice: first the day of death: 13; and again in the 2nd
month of the year (February: 2+ 8+3 =13)
There are 13 letters in the name Richard Wagner
Wagner composed 13 operas (music dramas)
His decision to pursue a dramatic career was formed on the 13th day
of the month; he was influenced in changing his format after hearing
Carl Maria von Weber’s"Der Freischütz,” which, in it’s entirety (famous
overture included) was completed on the 13th May 1820; it’s first
appearance at Dresden, home to Wagner, was in 1822 (1+8+2+2=13).
Weber died in Wagner’s 13th year
Wagner’s first appearance as a “musical personage” occurred in 1831
(1+8+3+1=13) during his tenure as a music student at Leipzig.
He would become director of the stage at Riga, which opened its
doors on the 13th day of September, 1837; it was here that Wagner
began to compose his early opera “Rienzi,” completed in
Paris some 3 years later in 1840 (1+8+4+0=13)
On April 13, 1844, Richard completed Tannhauser, which was
performed in Paris on March 13 1861
By 13th of august in the year 1876, Wagner began the first
presentation of the “Bayreuth Dramas,” the Nibelungen Ring.;” the last
day at “Bayreuth” was on 13th of September 1882
Wagner would be forced into exile from Saxony for a total of 13 years
Richard would visit his father in law, Franz Liszt for the last time
in Venice on January 13th, 1883, before dying on the 13th of February,
in the 13th year of the new German Confederation.
Whew!
In keeping on the subject of all things Wagner, allow me to
re-introduce the reader to some rather famous scandals that rocked the life of
the erudite composer:
FISTFIGHT AT WAGNER PREMIERE:
It seemed Wagner was destined for controversy almost from the beginning. The
premiere of his second opera Das Liebesverbotwas already off to a poor start for then relatively unknown composer, with a
lead singer resorting to reciting a load of gibberish after failing to
remember his lines.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the second performance had to be cancelled
altogether following a pre-show backstage row – complete with fists and curses
– courtesy of the works’ lead tenor and the husband of the opera's
Prima Donna. Wagner fully intended to see the performance through after
having quelled the violent scuffle, yet, much to his embarrassment, when the
curtain finally arose, both composer and orchestra were greeted to an audience
only 3 patrons strong. Humiliated, Wagner never again attempted to
stage this opera during his lifetime.
FUN FACT:Fist fights were no stranger to Richard Wagner; in fact, in the composer’s
personal autobiography
Mein Leben
(written at the request of Wagner patron
King Ludwig II of Bavaria
in 1865), Wagner describes a real-life experience of
mistaken identity and a near-riot that made such a frightening
impression on him, he would later incorporate the experience into the second
act of his 1862 music dramaDie Meistersinger von Nürnbergin which the diarist relates:
"Out of this situation evolved an uproar, which through the shouting and
clamour and an inexplicable growth in the number of participants in the
struggle soon assumed a truly demoniacal character. It looked to me as if
the whole town would break out into a riot...Then suddenly I heard a heavy
thump, and as if by magic the whole crowd dispersed in every
direction...One of the regular patrons had felled one of the noisiest
rioters.... And it was the effect of this which had scattered everybody so
suddenly."
-Richard Wagner, Mein Leben
HIERONYMUS BOSCH: "BUTT MUSIC"
Back in 2015, the worldwide press erroneously labeled Oklahoma Christian University student Amelia Hamrick as having “discovered" a formerly “unnoticed"
fraction of a 'musical' score on the backside of a man, positioned fanny-up
(that's derrière, to you naughty folks in the U.K) in
Dutch/Netherlandish Painter Hieronymus Bosch’s infamous triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights.
Certainly I, and many fans of this peculiar work have pondered the mystery of
the “formerly unnoticed score” – hint: we noticed– long ago: in fact, speculation as to the meaning of the music has been a
hot topic amongst artistic circles since the renewed interest in the
Dutch artists' work peaked during the height of the Surrealist Movement in the
20th Century. Likely, it sparked interest in it's heyday as well.
The famous triptych, so named after it’s middle panel, is said to be a
depiction (from left panel to right) of Paradise, Purgatory (debated), and
finally, Hell. It is in the right panel (the portion that covers the
subject matter of this post both cropped and highlighted for the viewer) that
one finds the oddest of material: some say the proliferation of nude men and
women engaging in destructive behavior (our “Butt” man is seen being crushed
by a giant lute and harp, his derrière and legs protruding underneath the
instruments) as being symbolic of Bosch’s
distaste for worldly lust, and their inevitable path to hell through
displaying such lewd and loose behavior. Whilst the Oklahoma grad may not have been the first to “notice” the
music on the “butt” of the figure, she was perhaps the most recent musician to
draw a large public interest in what scholars of the era refer to as "faux
notation." Reveling in her newfound fame, Hamrick told her followers on social
media site Tumblr:
“I decided to transcribe it into modern notation, assuming the second
line of the staff is C, as is common for chants of this era,”
Hamrick titled the score “The 500-Year-Old Butt Song from Hell.”
Whilst we can thank Hamrick for attracting the attention of newer generations
to both Bosch and the idea of Gregorian chant, this subject has been
thoroughly debated for some time. That the notation is Gregorian or that it is
'music' at all has been contested publicly for some time, and Hamrick's claims
have caused controversy with previous 'transcribers.'
Early music aficionado and musician Ian Pittaway offered an excellent rebuttal
(no pun intended) on his
personal blog
in May 2021. Extensively researched, and with exquisite attention to detail,
Pittaway reminded his readers of a 2003 album release by Swedish musicians Vox
Vulgaris (titled The Shape of Medieval Music to Come) who claim to have been the first to "transcribe" the 'music', which,
Pittaway is apt to point out, has also proven false, with transcriptions
appearing in 1961 (by J. Lenneberg in ‘Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights: Some Musicological Considerations’,
Gazette des Beaux-Arts), in 1978 (in an album release by Atrium Musicae titled
Codex Gluteo), and in 1981 (by Laurinda S. Dixon, Professor in the
Department of Art and Music Histories, Syracuse University in
Alchemical Imagery in Bosch’s Garden of Delights, (UMI)) respectively.
That the music is not music at all, but rather "faux notation" is a theory
bolstered by the absence of a clef on the buttocks, without which no definite
pitch can be ascertained. Pittaway offers a convincing alternative to
the "Gregorian chant" claim, identifying the notation as a mere imitation of
Strichnotation, described by the author as"...an imprecise form of written music that gives very little or no
indication of rhythm, with a staff which gives an indication of the pitch
of notes relative to one another, but no indication of the actual pitch,
which makes any interpretation guesswork."
Pittaway's response may be read in full by clicking
here.
ERIK SATIE: VIGILANT HOARDER BY DAY, MANIACALLYEN GARDE!BY NIGHT
A sketch of Erik Satie by Frueh
Parisian composer
Erik Satie,
ever the eccentric, held a rather filthy secret all the way to his
grave: much like his musical predecessor
Ludwig van Beethoven,
whose shared ‘secret’ was discovered during the larger-than-life composer’s
downward spiral into anacusis during the late 1800’s. Perhaps a reaction to
stress and undoubted fear – perhaps a stalwart dedication
then more than ever before to compose beautiful music – Beethoven would
be discovered living in a state of utter squalor and disarray: it is said the
rank and vile odor from wasted food piled up in his lodgings permeated the
streets wherever the Bonn native chose to set up shop. Ludwig, once
maestro supreme of Germany, had become a full-blown hoarder,
“collecting” (or simply not disposing) of anything that would enter into the
vicinity of his lodgings. This behavior – although understandable from a psychological/physiological
aspect still left fans of the composer stunned: how could such a dynamic,
creative mind reduce himself thus?
It’s time for another installment of fun (and macabre) facts related to Classical music and Opera!
La Danse Macabre, Michael Wolgemut
From naughty schoolboys receiving their just desserts in the end, to rivaling musicians and those whose talents were a gift – or curse – from the darkest depths of hell, and the ancient Latin hymn later set to theRequiem Massin the hope of guiding a recently deceased soul peacefully into the great beyond (the work itself being a depiction of the placement of souls on the Biblical "Last Day of Judgment") that would become associated with terror, morbid delirium and horrific respite in the coming centuries - to masterpieces composed by drunkards and drug addicts. The reader is sure to find in this months’ Trivia Post something for his or her every sinful curiosity.
*Featuring grave robbers and missing body parts.
FUNNY RIVALS VS. TEMPORARY AMNESIA
A Rival throws coffee into the face of a "frenemy";
from Vulgus Brittanicus, 18th century.
There is something to be said about getting old. Nothing seems to work like it used to, even with strenuous and extensive efforts. The memory is no exception to the laws of aging. Sometimes we walk into a room and forget why we walked into it in the first place. Sometimes we lose focus mid-sentence and completely lose our train of thought. And sometimes, as in the case of megalithic late 19th (and early 20th century) romantic composer Giacomo Puccini, we forget we are in afull blown battlewith our on-again, off-again “frenemy.” It was on one very festive Christmas in the 19th century that composer Giacomo Puccini was struck by the giving spirit of the season. Thinking of his friend and frequent musical collaborator, the iconic living legend, conductor Arturo Toscanini, Puccini at once sent for a surprise gift of Panettone (a delicious Italian bread and traditional holiday gift of the era) to his ‘brother’ in music. It was only after the gift had been duly dispatched that the absent-minded composer remembered that he and the maestro were fully engaged in one of their all-too-frequent quarrels and weren’t actually supposed to even be speaking to one another!
Daunted, but not too mortified to deliver one last punch, the hapless Puccini at once telegrammed his nemesis Toscanini, declaring in the exchange his error in but five simple words:
“PANETTONE SENT BY MISTAKE. PUCCINI.”
Toscanini, the wry little devil, seized upon the opportunity with a one-two punch of his own, when he sent a return telegram to Puccini in the same vein:
“PANETTONE EATEN BY MISTAKE. TOSCANINI.”
BEETHOVEN VS. NEIGHBORS
Many a great composer had equally robust reputations that seemed to precede them in their heyday. 18-19th century German composer Ludwig van Beethoven was no exception. Even in the years prior to the famed pianists’ descent into total deafness, Beethoven was engaged in war with his landlords and neighbors, who complained about everything from the composer’s hygienic habits (he was said to have lived in near squalor, with rotting food on spoiled dishes piled up in stacks and strewn about the abode, causing ungodly stenches that would permeate through the walls and into the streets) to being unceremoniously serenaded by Beethoven’s late night practice sessions on his piano, which he would play loudly into the wee hours of the morning. He was also becoming increasingly paranoid, a symptomatic condition that would only see an increase after the composer experienced the first onset of auditory paracusia (a precursor to deafness), in the few years to come. It was during one of those late night sessions at the piano that Beethoven roused the neighbors from their slumber when the composer flew into a rage, flipping over furniture, tapestries, carpets - and everything else in reaching distance - whilst shouting obscenities over a maid who he was sure had stolen from him his prized golden penny. That incident would go on to become a grand tale of popular folklore when it was discovered that the enraged Beethoven had been composing theRondo e Capriccioon that very evening, just prior to his total meltdown. The locals dubbed the Rondo“Rage Over the Lost Penny,”[1]a delightfully comical pseudonym that is still used by fans of the temperamental composer to this day.
The Rondo (or 'Rage'):
Footnote:
[1]"Rage Over the Lost Penny" is actually a shortened translation of a quotation which first appeared on Beethoven's "Rondo e Capriccio" autograph (manuscript), which had been auctioned off some seven months after the composer's death in November of 1827 by Diabelli & Co.
The original quote:"Die Wuth über den verlornen Groschen, ausgetobt in einer Caprice" is translated into English as "Rage at the loss of a Groat (a penny) stormed out in a caprice (a huff)." It's authorship is unknown, however what is certain is that the scrawl was not from the hand of Beethoven (there is some evidence to suggest the afterthought may have originated from the hand of biographer and confidante to the composer Anton Schindler.
The Rondo manuscript also guarded one more secret: it would later be revealed that the work was an incomplete project. It is said Anton Diabelli (of Diabelli & Co.) himself completed the fragmented work before putting it up for auction.
MAJOR WORKS WRITTEN 'UNDER THE INFLUENCE' & MAJOR DISASTERS CAUSED BY DRINK
As we have already seen in my post on Suicides, Schizophrenia & Syphlitics, the use of drugs and drink amongst many of the most prolific composers, librettists and musicians of their day would rob from the stage and theatre many a talent well before their time (a trend that is still going strong today, most notably in the genres of pop and rock music). Below we look at some of Western Classical Music’s most beloved compositions - works that continue to dominate the symphonic and operatic repertoire to this very day - all of which were composed ‘under the influence’. LA SYMPHONIE FANTASTIQUE
This grandiose symphony of unrequited desire has been mentioned frequently here at unravelingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca. The masterpiece - in particular it’s final movement - however, deserves further discussion, as it not only sets the tone for the entire work, but Berlioz’ morbid manipulation of sacred music into something one hears in their worst nightmares would go on to not only influence an entire genre of dark music in modern film, the final movement itself would personify it’s manipulateur, Hector Berlioz, as the tortured, love-crazed, slightly sadistic psychopath he was known to morph into during one of his famous self-harming episodes. Named the “fantastical symphony” with good reason, La Symphonie Fantastique’s final and horrific ‘scene’ is best enjoyed alongside the works’ penultimate movement, "Marche au supplice"(the march to the scaffold).While the works’ fifth and final movement is set in a hellish enclave during a witches’ Sabbath, the fourth movement sets the tone for the terrifying scene to come.
Troubled French composer Hector Berlioz
In the Fantastique's fourth, the love-sick protagonist that inspired the piece (believed to be an autobiographical character), downs a large amount of Opium in an attempt to commit suicide, so distraught is he at being the object of unrequited romance. His idée fixe, much like in the composers’ real life, didn’t seem to know he was even alive from romance's perspective– and the only solution for such a miserable fortune was for the brokenhearted to paint the final brushstroke on that dismal painting, and simply..not exist.Unfortunately for the pieces’ character (again, much like the symphony’s own composer) the overdose failed to kill the lovelorn, and, as the drug’s soporific effects began to take hold of its host, the protagonist steeps in and out of a brew of lucid deliriums – which display themselves in a cruel mélange of abundant love and a morbid delusion of marching toward a scaffold – a punishment to fit the crime of homicide (the condemned becomes convinced he has slain his beloved) – with the hallucination and the movement itself finally culminating in a horrific orchestral display of it’s protagonists head, rolling off the scaffold and bouncing down the steps after being unceremoniously hacked off by the sharp blade of the guillotine. The movement ultimus is where things really get ‘trippy’ (Berlioz was said to have composed the entire work under the influence of Opium, a drug of which he proudly propitiated). In this movement, the protagonist finds himself in his own twisted version of hell: a Witches’ Sabbath, complete with such grotesquery as can be found in every child’s hidden-under-lock-and-key mental vault of ghosts and goblins – all of whom have arrived as guests at the protagonists’ (Berlioz’) own funeral. Amongst the witches, shades, and monsters, who are collectively engaged in a sadistic orgy, is the shade of the protagonists idée-fixe (based on Berlioz’ own, one Harriet Smithson): formerly represented in the symphony’s earlier movements by a placid, pleasant, dream-like melodic theme - now grotesquely shrieking as an ominous series of funeral bells begin to toll, and a creepishly slow moving and bastardized version (Berlioz describes it as a "burlesque parody") of theDies Irae,a 13th century Latin hymn depicting the "Final day of Judgment" horrifically repeats itself before engaging in it’s own twisted musical orgy with thedance of the witches, probably focusing on the hymns darker themes of souls uninvited into heaven and cast into the fires of hell. It was this movement that would inspire countless composers to come, including prolific composer and pianist Franz Liszt, who took from from Berlioz’ macabre imagination the idea of transforming the ancient Gregorian melody of the Dies Irae into something both frightening and horrifyingly sinister: Liszt’s play on this theme was displayed most alarmingly in his gooseflesh-inducing “Totentanz”(“Dance of the Dead”):
Other composers who wrote some of their most erudite masterpieces under the influence of drink and drug includeWolfgang Amadeus Mozart,who wrote the Overture for his wildly famous opera Don Giovanni completely in the throes of an alcoholic induced ‘massive hangover’, toEdward Elgar - whose highly prized “Cello Concerto” that made the likes of iconic musicians Jacqueline du Pré and Daniel Barenboim household names – and whose main theme was first imagined and quickly written down on a napkin immediately upon it’s composer awakening from dental surgery!
When it came to the consumption – and over consumption – of alcohol, even conductors were thrown into the mix – it is said that Russian Composer and Pianist Sergei Rachmaninoff was so horrified by the actions of conductor Alexander Glazunov – who led the orchestra at the composers’ premiere performance of his Symphony 1 in d minor, and who performed his duties whilst completely drunk – that Rachmaninoff refused to compose his next symphony until a full decade later! Needless to say, the premiere of the 1st was a total disaster. Apparently drink alone wasn’t enough to kill some composers straight off the bat - but when combined with an unfortunate set of fateful happenstances, it’s effects would often contribute to an early visit with the reaper:
Henry Purcell, one of 17th century England’s most famed composers, was such an advocate of drink, he dedicated a not insignificant amount of compositions entirely to his precious liquid gold in a series of bawdy drinking songs(many of them x-rated), in an ode to his much loved pastime of frequenting the town’s inns and public drinking houses - stomping grounds notorious for fellow playboys about town who enjoyed regaling - in the form of song - tales of vast and varied carnal exploits and other raucous debauchery over a pint of ale.
Perhaps due to an honest mistake, or perhaps fed up with his late hours, Purcell’s wife is believed to have locked her husband out of their abode one particularly frigid evening, directly contributing to the composers’ ultimately fatal case of pneumonia.
Another musician living in the 18th century, composerGiuseppe Tartini,was also known for engaging in a danse macabre with Beelzebub. Tartini’s most celebrated work, hisViolin Sonata in G minor,was famously coined the“Devils’ Trill”after it’s composer was alleged to have experienced a ‘visit from Lucifer’ in the form of a pseudo-nightmare. Tartini would relate the dream to the French astronomerJérôme Lalande:
Tartini's Dream - Louis-Léopold Boilly, 1824
"One night, in the year 1713 I dreamed I had made a pact with the devil for my soul. Everything went as I wished: my new servant anticipated my every desire. Among other things, I gave him my violin to see if he could play. How great was my astonishment on hearing a sonata so wonderful and so beautiful, played with such great art and intelligence, as I had never even conceived in my boldest flights of fantasy. I felt enraptured, transported, enchanted: my breath failed me, and - I awoke. I immediately grasped my violin in order to retain, in part at least, the impression of my dream. In vain! The music which I at this time composed is indeed the best that I ever wrote, and I still call it the "Devil's Trill", but the difference between it and that which so moved me is so great that I would have destroyed my instrument and have said farewell to music forever if it had been possible for me to live without the enjoyment it affords me."
While tales of selling one’s soul to the devil were abundant folklore well before the age of poets like Goethe, who made them famous with his epic magnum opusFaust in the beginning of the following century, the dark mystique of the violin itself dates back even further. The piercing ranges capable of the instrument had long been assumed to be a product of something unearthly (and therefore devilishly sinister) for many centuries previous across the European continent.
THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF MISSING TEETH & FRANZ JOSEPH’S SKULL PLAYING HAYDN SEEK (Yep, I said it!)
The obsessive Anton Bruckner
It seemsAnton Brucknermay not have been the only one with an (alleged) morbid fascination with the decayed body parts of composer’s past. Anton, who was present at pianist Franz Schubert’s exhumation (he famously embraced the deceased’s skull at the first opportunity he could seize - or sneak), before proclaiming Schubert‘the master’(poor Wagner, Bruckner had attached the same honorific to his living hero Richard backstage at an opera theatre immediately following one of the German composers’ titanic operatic productions, embarrassing the stout Wagner by falling to his hands and knees, grasping his idols hands into his own and declaring Wagner to be his“Meister”); Bruckner was also present at the exhumation of yet another ‘master’ to the obsessive composer: Ludwig van Beethoven (as previously mentioned in my post on mental health here on unravelingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca). Little did Bruckner know, that in the name of science, Beethoven’s skull would have become so damaged, dissected and exchange so many hands through the coming centuries that the latest fragments of the composers’ skull were believed to have been discovered in the present century and were even curated into the Ira F. Brilliant Center for Beethoven Studies at California's San Jose State University in 2005! (This finding, unfortunately, was later debunked through vigorous and modern DNA testing nearly a decade later). The story, nonetheless stirred up great public interest and renewed admiration for the late German composer (allegedly, the skull fragments were even considered for a possible trip to the famed Christie's auction block in 2010).
The modern era, of course, still has a morbid fascination with the cadavers of musical icons past:
In July of 2012, authorities in Austria reported the graves of 19th century Classical giantsJohannes Brahms and Johann Strauss IIhad not only been unceremoniously disturbed but also ransacked by a modern grave robber who made off, bizarrely, only with both composers’ teeth. Why a modern ‘resurrectionist’ would seek to steal from his cadaverous victims only their teeth remains unclear. For reasons of respect to the dead, the identity of the robber will not be mentioned on unravelingmusicalmyths.blogspot.ca, however he did become known to authorities after posting a series of videos on the internet's video-sharing hub Youtube, showcasing his ‘finds’ and bragging about his stolen ‘relics.' Unfortunately for our beloved composers, the strong arm of Lady Law continues to evade the grave robber: the evidence in question (the videos depicting the body parts) were believed to have been made in 2002, making the crime itself “too old to prosecute” under current Austrian Law.
Phrenology, Princes and Police Chases (oh my).
Franz Joseph Haydn
Finally, we come to the mysterious case of Franz Joseph Haydn,the grandfather and reigning King of the Classical Era. It was 1820 when Hungarian Prince Esterházy,Nikolaus II,issued an order for Haydn’s remains to be transferred from their burial place in Austria’s Capital of Vienna to Eisenstadt (the seat of the Eszterházy Hungarian noble family). No one was expecting (especially the Prince) what they would find upon exhuming the body and opening the coffin: there lay the skeletal remains of Joseph Haydn…minus the composers’ skull!
After much dismay and a grand amount of sleuthing, it was discovered that the skull of the composer had been lifted from the coffin under the cloak of night and the cunning hand of bribery in the name of the pseudo-science of “phrenology” – another of the many quackeries to be found in medicine of times past. This bogus “science” was formed on the thesis that the individual characteristics of man such as personality and intelligence were directly related to the proportions and mass of the skull. Two followers of the phrenology cult wereJoseph Carl Rosenbaum(who appallingly, had befriended Haydn during his lifetime) and his partner in crime, a thief named Johann Nepomuk Peter.
Haydn's ever illusive skull.
The nefarious pair had almost lost possession of the stolen relic when they fell under suspicion of authorities in the mid-19th century. On one particularly unfruitful visit to the home of Rosenbaum (which he shared with his wife), authorities found theMrs. curled up in the fetal position on her bed. She couldn’t get up, she informed the officers, because it was “that time of the month”. In reality, it wasn’t a case of crippling cramps doing her in – the lady Rosenbaum, alerted to the presence of the police at her door, had rushed into her bedchamber, stuffing Haydn's skull under the mattress on which she now lay. "That time of the month" was a most formidable excuse by the Mrs. – the bodily functions of ladies, at the time, were considered a topic too taboo for public - or even private - discussion and doing so was considered an assault on decency. The blushing officers simply took the Rosenbaums’ wife at her word, and at once vacated the premises, empty handed, and none-the-wiser for their noble efforts. Monetary gain did not seem to be the focus of the Rosenbaums in illegally hoarding the skull. The Prince Eszterházy, himself convinced of the couple’s guilty hidden treasure, famously offered a substantial payment to the nefarious duo in exchange for Haydn’s head, with the intent to reunite and re-bury it with it’s host. Rosenbaumdid indeed accept the money and in turn offer up a skull to the Prince for reburial – just not the head Eszterházy was hoping for. Unbeknownst to Nikolaus and those attending the reburial ceremony, Joseph Haydn’s body was re-interred into the earth – complete with someone else’s head! This baffling case of Haydn seek would not see a resolution until the mid-20th century, when, through the hands of centuries worth of inheritors (almost all belonging to the medical sector), Haydn’s skull was finally returned to it’s rightful host in 1954– but not before a select group of admirers held for the composers’ head a public procession (featuring almost 100 automobiles). The skull had been appropriately dressed in a peony-covered urn for the occasion.
They say "Two Heads are Better than One": To add further macabre details to this bizarre story, it is said the skull of Haydn, now peacefully resting, fully intact with it's host cadaver, was re-buried...alongside the bogus cranium, leaving the composer permanently at rest - with two skulls! Some say the case of Haydn's traveling skull was a comically overzealous retribution of just desserts for the composer, who, as a notoriously naughty young lad was known to taunt the heads of fellow pupils with a sharp pair of scissors - once earning for himself the distinction of being expelled from school after unceremoniously hacking off a student's ponytail!
Now that is a revenge-filled conclusion of operatic proportions, indeed. Who said classical music was boring?
As we have already seen in my posts on Haydn and Bruckner, Beethoven the Johann(es) (Brahms and Strauss II), such megalithic talents would exude not only a mass adoration, but also a lasting curiosity that would prevail even after death – creating an entire industry of quack medicine as contemporaries and later classical aficionados struggled to try to explain the seemingly other-worldly aura of genius that circumnavigated our beloved composers of yore like some sort of mystifying intellectual halo.
"The Anatomist Overtaken by the Watch in Carry'ng Off Miss W--ts in a Hamper," William Austin, 1773
Grave robber Joseph Carl Rosenbaum and his partner in crimeJohann Nepomuk Peter attributed the presence of a so-called“organ of tune” – a protrusion of the skull above the brow thought to be indicative of inherent musical genius – on the heads of the great operatic masters of the classical age, not the least of whom was said to possess the ‘feature’ was the composer Joseph Haydn, whose skull Rosenbaum and Peter illegally possessed.
The 'Brothers in Bumps Three': L to R: Ludwig van Beethoven, (Franz) Joseph Haydn and Wolfgang "Wolfie" Amadeus Mozart.
The composers Ludwig van Beethoven and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart were also a part of the “organ” phenomena, and, based solely on the likeness of both composers in portraiture, both composers found themselves (allegedly, in the case of Mozart) fall victim to the phrenology cult[1] that had peaked in Europe and across (the) America(s) in the 18th and 19th centuries.
Even cultural icons were thrown into the mix – Poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethepurported to be in possession of both Mozart and Beethoven’s skulls at various times; while other, more sinister hands would cradle the fragmented skull of Beethoven throughout the height of the Second World War and it’s Nazi regime (as documented in Russell Martin's book "Beethoven’s Hair" (link in LIBRARY); also, read a record of travel by author William Meredith on this external link:THE HISTORY OF BEETHOVEN'S SKULL FRAGMENTS).
Others were more lucky: composer and pianist Franz Schubert’s skull was exhumed at Vienna in 1863, and later re-buried with it’s host after research scientist Gerhard von Breuning documented the following observations:“[The skulls] seemed to reflect the characteristics of the composers’ works. The walls of Beethoven’s skull exhibit strong density and thickness, whereas Schubert’s bones show feminine delicateness."
Plaster-casts of the skulls of Franz Schubert, Franz Joseph Haydn & Ludwig van Beethoven; Alois Wittman; Beethoven-Haus, Bonn c. 19th century
Much like in the case of Haydn’s missing skull in the 19th century, Wolfgang Mozart’s cranium is also said to have been the unfortunate object of a nocturnal heist, although in "Wolfie’s" case, the culprit this time was not a wannabe scientist of note but rather, at least according to legend, the gravedigger who worked the grounds of the St. Marx Cemetery in Vienna where Mozart’s body was first laid to rest in one of the burial grounds’ common graves. Mozart’s celebrated cranium was later said to have been acquired by the venerated anatomist Joseph Hyrtl, who, it is believed attached a note to the skull with the inscription “Musa Vetat Mori” – a promise to the future curator of the heisted skull of it’s supernatural protection: translated, the inscription reads: “The Muse Prevents Death”.
For a period of some 50 years, the skull of the classical icon Mozart could be found on display at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria, who had first acquired, through confidential sources, the skull in 1902. It was later removed from display after public backlash due to its macabre nature – and the fact that the skull was said to haunt those who visited it. Although some damage to the skull, believed to have been caused pre-mortem have been linked to Mozart’s symptoms of headache and dizziness which were experienced by the composer during the final mysterious illness which prematurely took his life, later DNA tests, performed in 2006 (and which used DNA acquired from the cadavers of other members of the Mozart family for comparison) proved problematic. It’s not that the DNA of the alleged skull of Wolfgang Amadeus didn’t match with his kin per-sae – the test would show that the cadaverous members from which the scientists sourced familial DNA proved not to be Mozart DNA at all - opening up a huge can of worms and a giant question mark over the Mozart family tree.
To date, no one knows for certain the whereabouts of Mozart’s skull or whether the tale of it’s “absence” is purely one of folklore, and exhumation is not currently possible: to date, the memorial tablet at the St. Marx Cemetery is but a placeholder – Constanze herself (Mozart’s widow) failed to locate Mozart or his mass grave when she searched for her late husband some 17 years after his death. A temporary gravestone (where the tablet now stands) was erected in 1855 by the Cemetery in a presumed – yet unconfirmed - location of the grave.
Footnotes:
[1]The false science that suggested the cranial structure of man dictated both character and personality. Adherents to this now defunct ‘science’ believed the brain to be a segmented ‘organ of the mind’, with each segments (‘mental faculties’) size determined by an individual’s propensity and capacity to convey certain personality traits, which they believed would form on a relatively proportional basis, and which could then, in turn, be determined by the informed observer by “reading” the “bumps and fissures” of the skull.
Navigate the pages in the book below* to read just one of many fascinating treatises on the quack ‘science’ of Phrenology (this one by author Louis Allen Vaught, published in 1902) to learn more about what motivated grave robbers like Rosenbaum and medical ‘scientists’ in the 18th century: *This book is part of the public domain and is shared legally.
