Frederick Chopin as a Man and Musician

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CHAPTER X.

1829-1830.

MUSIC IN THE WARSAW SALONS.--MORE ABOUT CHOPIN'S CAUTION.--
MUSICAL VISITORS TO THE POLISH CAPITAL: WORLITZER, MDLLE. DE
BELLEVILLE, MDLLE. SONTAG, &c.--SOME OF CHOPIN'S ARTISTIC AND
OTHER DOINGS; VISIT TO POTURZYN.--HIS LOVE FOR CONSTANTIA
GLADKOWSKA.--INTENDED AND FREQUENTLY-POSTPONED DEPARTURE FOR
ABROAD; IRRESOLUTION.--THE E MINOR CONCERTO AND HIS THIRD CONCERT
IN WARSAW.--DEPARTS AT LAST.

After the turmoil and agitation of the concerts, Chopin resumed
the even tenor of his Warsaw life, that is to say, played,
composed, and went to parties. Of the latter we get some glimpses
in his letters, and they raise in us the suspicion that the
salons of Warsaw were not overzealous in the cultivation of the
classics. First we have a grand musical soiree at the house of
General Filipeus, [F-
ootnote: Or Philippeus] the intendant of the
Court of the Grand Duke Constantine. There the Swan of Pesaro was
evidently in the ascendant, at any rate, a duet from "Semiramide"
and a buffo duet from "Il Turco in Italia" (in this Soliva took a
part and Chopin accompanied) were the only items of the musical
menu thought worth mentioning by the reporter. A soiree at
Lewicki's offers matter of more interest. Chopin, who had drawn
up the programme, played Hummel's "La Sentinelle" and his Op. 3,
the Polonaise for piano and violoncello composed at Antonin with
a subsequently-added introduction; and Prince Galitzin was one of
the executants of a quartet of Rode's. Occasionally, however,
better works were performed. Some months later, for instance, at
the celebration of a gentleman's name-day, Spohr's Quintet for
piano, flute, clarinet, horn, and bassoon was played. Chopin's
criticism on this work is as usual short:--

Wonderfully beautiful, but not quite suitable for the piano.
Everything Spohr has written for the piano is very difficult,
indeed, sometimes it is impossible to find any fingering for
his passages.

On Easter-day, the great feasting day of the Poles, Chopin was
invited to breakfast by the poet Minasowicz. On this occasion he
expected to meet Kurpinski; and as in the articles which had
appeared in the papers a propos of his concerts the latter and
Elsner had been pitted against each other, he wondered what would
be the demeanour of his elder fellow-countryman and fellow-
composer towards him. Remembering Chopin's repeated injunctions
to his parents not to mention to others his remarks on musicians,
we may be sure that in this as in every other case Chopin
proceeded warily. Here is another striking example of this
characteristic and highly-developed cautiousness. After hearing
the young pianist Leskiewicz play at a concert he writes:--

It seems to me that he will become a better player than
Krogulski; but I have not yet dared to express this opinion,
although I have been often asked to do so.

In the first half of April, 1830, Chopin was so intent on
finishing the compositions he had begun that, greatly as he
wished to pay his friend Titus Woyciechowski a visit at his
country-seat Poturzyn, he determined to stick to his work. The
Diet, which had not been convoked for five years, was to meet on
the 28th of May. That there would be a great concourse of lords
and lordlings and their families and retinues followed as a
matter of course. Here, then, was an excellent opportunity for
giving a concert. Chopin, who remembered that the haute voice had
not yet heard him, did not overlook it. But be it that the
Concerto was not finished in time, or that the circumstances
proved less favourable than he had expected, he did not carry out
his plan. Perhaps the virtuosos poured in too plentifully. In
those days the age of artistic vagrancy had not yet come to an
end, and virtuosity concerts were still flourishing most
vigorously. Blahetka of Vienna, too, had a notion of coming with
his daughter to Warsaw and giving some concerts there during the
sitting of the Diet. He wrote to Chopin to this effect, and asked
his advice. The latter told him that many musicians and amateurs
had indeed often expressed a desire to hear Miss Blahetka, but
that the expenses of a concert and the many distinguished artists
who had arrived or were about to arrive made the enterprise
rather hazardous.

Now [says Chopin, the cautious, to his friend] he [Blahetka]
cannot say that I have not sufficiently informed him of the
state of things here! It is not unlikely that he will come. I
should be glad to see them, and would do what I could to
procure a full house for his daughter. I should most
willingly play with her on two pianos, for you cannot imagine
how kindly an interest this German [Mr. Blahetka] took in me
at Vienna.

Among the artists who came to Warsaw were: the youthful
Worlitzer, who, although only sixteen years of age, was already
pianist to the King of Prussia; the clever pianist Mdlle. de
Belleville, who afterwards became Madame Oury; the great
violinist Lipinski, the Polish Paganini; and the celebrated
Henrietta Sontag, one of the brightest stars of the time.
Chopin's intercourse with these artists and his remarks on them
are worth noting: they throw light on his character as a musician
and man as well as on theirs. He relates that Worlitzer, a youth
of Jewish extraction, and consequently by nature very talented,
had called on him and played to him several things famously,
especially Moscheles' "Marche d'Alexandre variée."
Notwithstanding the admitted excellence of Worlitzer's playing,
Chopin adds--not, however, without a "this remains between us
two"--that he as yet lacks much to deserve the title of Kammer-
Virtuos. Chopin thought more highly of Mdlle. de Belleville, who,
he says, "plays the piano beautifully; very airily, very
elegantly, and ten times better than Worlitzer." What, we may be
sure, in no wise diminished his good opinion of the lady was that
she had performed his Variations in Vienna, and could play one of
them by heart. To picture the object of Chopin's artistic
admiration a little more clearly, let me recall to the reader's
memory Schumann's characterisation of Mdlle. de Belleville and
Clara Wieck.

They should not be compared. They are different mistresses of
different schools. The playing of the Belleville is
technically the finer of the two; Clara's is more
impassioned. The tone of the Belleville caresses, but does
not penetrate beyond the ear; that of Clara reaches the
heart. The one is a poetess; the other is poetry itself.

Chopin's warmest admiration and longest comments were, however,
reserved for Mdlle. Sontag. Having a little more than a year
before her visit to Warsaw secretly married Count Rossi, she made
at the time we are speaking of her last artistic tour before
retiring, at the zenith of her fame and power, into private life.
At least, she thought then it was her last tour; but pecuniary
losses and tempting offers induced her in 1849 to reappear in
public. In Warsaw she gave a first series of five or six concerts
in the course of a week, went then by invitation of the King of
Prussia to Fischbach, and from there returned to Warsaw. Her
concerts were remarkable for their brevity. She usually sang at
them four times, and between her performances the orchestra
played some pieces. She dispensed altogether with the assistance
of other virtuosos. But Chopin remarks that so great was the
impression she made as a vocalist and the interest she inspired
as an artist that one required some rest after her singing. Here
is what the composer writes to his friend about her (June 5,
1830):--

...It is impossible for me to describe to you how great a
pleasure the acquaintance with this "God-sent one" (as some
enthusiasts justly call her) has given me. Prince Radziwitt
introduced me to her, for which I feel greatly obliged to
him. Unfortunately, I profited little by her eight days' stay
with us, and I saw how she was bored by dull visits from
senators, woyewods, castellans, ministers, generals, and
adjutants, who only sat and stared at her while they were
talking about quite indifferent things. She receives them all
very kindly, for she is so very good-natured that she cannot
be unamiable to anyone. Yesterday, when she was going to put
on her bonnet previously to going to the rehearsal, she was
obliged to lock the door of her room, because the servant in
the ante-room could not keep back the large number of
callers. I should not have one to her if she had not sent for
me, Radziwill having asked me to write out a song which he
has arranged for her. This is an Ukraine popular song
("Dumka") with variations. The theme and finale are
beautiful, but the middle section does not please me (and it
pleases Mdlle. Sontag even less than me). I have indeed made
some alterations, but it is still good for nothing. I am glad
she leaves after to-day's concert, because I shall pet rid of
this business, and when Radziwill comes at the close of the
Diet he may perhaps relinquish his variations.

Mdlle. Sontag is not beautiful, but in the highest degree
captivating; she enchants all with her voice, which indeed is
not very powerful, but magnificently cultivated. Her
diminuendo is the non plus ultra that can be heard; her
portamento wonderfully fine; her chromatic scales, especially
toward the upper part of her voice, unrivalled. She sang us
an aria by Mercadante, very, very beautifully; the variations
by Rode, especially the last roulades, more than excellently.
The variations on the Swiss theme pleased so much that, after
having several times bowed her acknowledgments for the
applause, she had to sing them da capo. The same thing
happened to her yesterday with the last of Rode's variations.
She has, moreover, performed the cavatina from "Il Barbiere",
as well as several arias from "La Gazza ladra" and from "Der
Freischutz". Well, you will hear for yourself what a
difference there is between her erformances and those we have
hitherto heard here. On one occasion was with her when Soliva
came with the Misses Gladkowska [the idea!] and Wolkaw, who
had to sing to her his duet which concludes with the words
"barbara sorte"--you may perhaps remember it. Miss Sontag
remarked to me, in confidence, that both voices were really
beautiful, but already somewhat worn, and that these ladies
must change their method of singing entirely if they did not
wish to run the risk of losing their voices within two years.
She said, in my presence, to Miss Wolkow that she possessed
much facility and taste, but had une voix trop aigue. She
invited both ladies in the most friendly manner to visit her
more frequently, promising to do all in her power to show and
teach them her own manner of singing. Is this not a quite
unusual politeness? Nay, I even believe it is coquetry so
great that it made upon me the impression of naturalness and
a certain naivete; for it is hardly to be believed that a
human being can be so natural unless it knows all the
resources of coquetry. In her neglige Miss Sontag is a
hundred times more beautiful and pleasing than in full
evening-dress. Nevertheless, those who have not seen her in
the morning are charmed with her appearance at the concert.
On her return she will give concerts up to the 22nd of the
month; then, as she herself told me, she intends to go to St.
Petersburg. Therefore, be quick, dear friend, and come at
once, so that you may not miss more than the five concerts
she has already given.

From the concluding sentence it would appear that Chopin had
talked himself out on the subject; this. however, is not the
case, for after imparting some other news he resumes thus:--

But I have not yet told you all about Miss Sontag. She has in
her rendering some entirely new broderies, with which she
produces great effect, but not in the same way as Paganini.
Perhaps the cause lies in this, that hers is a smaller genre.
She seems to exhale the perfume of a fresh bouquet of flowers
over the parterre, and, now caresses, now plays with her
voice; but she rarely moves to tears. Radziwill, on the other
hand, thinks that she sings and acts the last scene of
Desdemona in Othello in such a manner that nobody can refrain
from weeping. To-day I asked her if she would sing us
sometime this scene in costume (she is said to be an
excellent actress); she answered me that it was true that she
had often seen tears in the eyes of the audience, but that
acting excited her too much, and she had resolved to appear
as rarely as possible on the stage. You have but to come here
if you wish to rest from your rustic cares. Miss Sontag will
sing you something, and you will awake to life again and will
gather new strength for your labours.

Mdlle. Sontag was indeed a unique artist. In power and fulness of
voice, in impassioned expression, in dazzling virtuosity, and in
grandeur of style, she might be inferior to Malibran, Catalani,
and Pasta; but in clearness and sweetness of voice, in purity of
intonation, in airiness, neatness, and elegance of execution, and
in exquisiteness of taste, she was unsurpassed. Now, these were
qualities particularly congenial to Chopin; he admired them
enthusiastically in the eminent vocalist, and appreciated similar
qualities in the pleasing pianist Mdlle. de Belleville. Indeed,
we shall see in the sequel that unless an artist possessed these
qualities Chopin had but little sympathy to bestow upon him. He
was, however, not slow to discover in these distinguished lady
artists a shortcoming in a direction where he himself was
exceedingly strong--namely, in subtlety and intensity of feeling.
Chopin's opinion of Mdlle. Sontag coincides on the whole with
those of other contemporaries; nevertheless, his account
contributes some details which add a page to her biography, and a
few touches to her portraiture. It is to be regretted that the
arrival of Titus Woyciechowski in Warsaw put for a time an end to
Chopin's correspondence with him, otherwise we should, no doubt,
have got some more information about Mdlle. Sontag and other
artists.

While so many stars were shining, Chopin's light seems to have
been under an eclipse. Not only did he not give a concert, but he
was even passed over on the occasion of a soiree musicale at
court to which all the most distinguished artists then assembled
at Warsaw were invited--Mdlle. Sontag, Mdlle. de Belleville,
Worlitzer, Kurpinski, &c. "Many were astonished," writes Chopin,"
that I was not invited to play, but _I_ was not astonished." When
the sittings of the Diet and the entertainments that accompanied
them came to a close Chopin paid a visit to his friend Titus at
Poturzyn, and on his return thence proceeded with his parents to
Zelazowa Wola to stay for some time at the Count of Skarbek's.
After leaving Poturzyn the picture of his friend's quiet rural
life continually rose up in Chopin's mind. A passage in one of
his letters which refers to his sojourn there seems to me
characteristic of the writer, suggestive of moods consonant with
his nocturnes and many cantilene in his other works:--

I must confess that I look back to it with great pleasure; I
feel always a certain longing for your beautiful country-
seat. The weeping-willow is always present to my mind; that
arbaleta! oh, I remember it so fondly! Well, you have teased
me so much about it that I am punished thereby for all my
sins.

And has he forgotten his ideal? Oh, no! On the contrary, his
passion grows stronger every day. This is proved by his frequent
allusions to her whom he never names, and by those words of
restless yearning and heart-rending despair that cannot be read
without exciting a pitiful sympathy. As before long we shall get
better acquainted with the lady and hear more of her--she being
on the point of leaving the comparative privacy of the
Conservatorium for the boards that represent the world--it may be
as well to study the symptoms of our friend's interesting malady.

The first mention of the ideal we find in the letter dated
October 3, 1829, wherein he says that he has been dreaming of her
every night for the past six months, and nevertheless has not yet
spoken to her. In these circumstances he stood in need of one to
whom he might confide his joys and sorrows, and as no friend of
flesh and blood was at hand, he often addressed himself to the
piano. And now let us proceed with our investigation.

March 27, 1830.--At no time have I missed you so much as now.
I have nobody to whom I can open my heart.

April 17, 1830.--In my unbearable longing I feel better as
soon as I receive a letter from you. To-day this comfort was
more necessary than ever. I should like to chase away the
thoughts that poison my joyousness; but, in spite of all, it
is pleasant to play with them. I don't know myself what I
want; perhaps I shall be calmer after writing this letter.

Farther on in the same letter he says:--

How often do I take the night for the day, and the day for
the night! How often do I live in a dream and sleep during
the day, worse than if I slept, for I feel always the same;
and instead of finding refreshment in this stupor, as in
sleep, I vex and torment myself so that I cannot gain
strength.

It may be easily imagined with what interest one so far gone in
love watched the debut of Miss Gladkowska as Agnese in Paer's
opera of the same name. Of course he sends a full account of the
event to his friend. She looked better on the stage than in the
salon; left nothing to be desired in her tragic acting; managed
her voice excellently up to the high j sharp and g; shaded in a
wonderful manner, and charmed her slave when she sang an aria
with harp accompaniment. The success of the lady, however, was
not merely in her lover's imagination, it was real; for at the
close of the opera the audience overwhelmed her with never-ending
applause. Another pupil of the Conservatorium, Miss Wolkow, made
her debut about the same time, discussions of the comparative
merits of the two ladies, on the choice of the parts in which
they were going to appear next, on the intrigues which had been
set on foot for or against them, &c., were the order of the day.
Chopin discusses all these matters with great earnestness and at
considerable length; and, while not at all stingy in his praise
of Miss Wolkow, he takes good care that Miss Gladkowska does not
come off a loser:--

Ernemann is of our opinion [writes Chopin] that no singer can
easily be compared to Miss Gladkowska, especially as regards
just intonation and genuine warmth of feeling, which
manifests itself fully only on the stage, and carries away
the audience. Miss Wolkow made several times slight mistakes,
whereas Miss Gladkowska, although she has only been heard
twice in Agnese, did not allow the least doubtful note to
pass her lips.

The warmer applause given to Miss Wolkow did not disturb so
staunch a partisan; he put it to the account of Rossini's music
which she sang.

When Chopin comes to the end of his account of Miss Gladkowska's
first appearance on the stage, he abruptly asks the question:
"And what shall I do now?" and answers forthwith: "I will leave
next month; first, however, I must rehearse my Concerto, for the
Rondo is now finished." But this resolve is a mere flash of
energy, and before we have proceeded far we shall come on words
which contrast strangely with what we have read just now. Chopin
has been talking about his going abroad ever so long, more
especially since his return from Vienna, and will go on talking
about it for a long time yet. First he intends to leave Warsaw in
the winter of 1829-1830; next he makes up his mind to start in
the summer of 1830, the question being only whether he shall go
to Berlin or Vienna; then in May, 1830, Berlin is already given
up, but the time of his departure remains still to be fixed.
After this he is induced by the consideration that the Italian
Opera season at Vienna does not begin till September to stay at
home during the hot summer months. How he continues to put off
the evil day of parting from home and friends we shall see as we
go on. I called Chopin's vigorously-expressed resolve a flash of
energy. Here is what he wrote not much more than a week after (on
August 31, 1830):--

I am still here; indeed, I do not feel inclined to go abroad.
Next month, however, I shall certainly go. Of course, only to
follow my vocation and reason, which latter would be in a
sorry plight if it were not strong enough to master every
other thing in my head.

But that his reason was in a sorry plight may be gathered from a
letter dated September 4, 1830, which, moreover, is noteworthy,
as in the confessions which it contains are discoverable the key-
notes of the principal parts that make up the symphony of his
character.

I tell you my ideas become madder and madder every day. I am
still sitting here, and cannot make up my mind to fix
definitively the day of my departure. I have always a
presentiment that I shall leave Warsaw never to return to it;
I am convinced that I shall say farewell to my home for ever.
Oh, how sad it must be to die in any other place but where
one was born! What a great trial it would be to me to see
beside my death-bed an unconcerned physician and paid servant
instead of the dear faces of my relatives! Believe me, Titus,
I many a time should like to go to you and seek rest for my
oppressed heart; but as this is not possible, I often hurry,
without knowing why, into the street. But there also nothing
allays or diverts my longing. I return home to... long again
indescribably... I have not yet rehearsed my Concerto; in any
case I shall leave all my treasures behind me by Michaelmas.
In Vienna I shall be condemned to sigh and groan! This is the
consequence of having no longer a free heart! You who know
this indescribable power so well, explain to me the strange
feeling which makes men always expect from the following day
something better than the preceding day has bestowed upon
them? "Do not be so foolish!" That is all the answer I can
give myself; if you know a better, tell me, pray, pray....

After saying that his plan for the winter is to stay two months
in Vienna and pass the rest of the season in Milan, "if it cannot
be helped," he makes some remarks of no particular interest, and
then comes back to the old and ever new subject, the cud that
humanity has been chewing from the time of Adam and Eve, and will
have to chew till the extinction of the race, whether pessimism
or optimism be the favoured philosophy.

Since my return I have not yet visited her, and must tell you
openly that I often attribute the cause of my distress to
her; it seems to me as if people shared this view, and that
affords me a certain satisfaction. My father smiles at it;
but if he knew all, he would perhaps weep. Indeed, I am
seemingly quite contented, whilst my heart....

This is one of the occasions, which occur so frequently in
Chopin's letters, where he breaks suddenly off in the course of
his emotional outpourings, and subsides into effective silence.
On such occasions one would like to see him go to the piano and
hear him finish the sentence there. "All I can write to you now
is indeed stupid stuff; only the thought of leaving Warsaw..."
Another musical opportunity! Where words fail, there music
begins.

Only wait, the day will come when you will not fare any
better. Man is not always happy; sometimes only a few moments
of happiness are granted to him in this life; therefore why
should we shun this rapture which cannot last long?

After this the darkness of sadness shades gradually into brighter
hues:--

As on the one hand I consider intercourse with the outer
world a sacred duty, so, on the other hand, I regard it as a
devilish invention, and it would be better if men... but I
have said enough!...

The reader knows already the rest of the letter; it is the
passage in which Chopin's love of fun gets the better of his
melancholy, his joyous spirits of his sad heart, and where he
warns his friend, as it were with a bright twinkle in his tearful
eyes and a smile on his face, not to kiss him at that moment, as
he must wash himself. This joking about his friend's dislike to
osculation is not without an undercurrent of seriousness; indeed,
it is virtually a reproach, but a reproach cast in the most
delicate form and attired in feminine coquetry.

On September 18, 1830, Chopin is still in Warsaw. Why he is still
there he does not know; but he feels unspeakably happy where he
is, and his parents make no objections to this procrastination.

To-morrow I shall hold a rehearsal [of the E minor Concerto]
with quartet, and then drive to--whither? Indeed, I do not
feel inclined to go anywhere; but I shall on no account stay
in Warsaw. If you have, perhaps, a suspicion that something
dear to me retains me here, you are mistaken, like many
others. I assure you I should be ready to make any sacrifice
if only my own self were concerned, and I--although I am in
love--had yet to keep my unfortunate feelings concealed in my
bosom for some years to come.