Leipzig, December 11th, 1842.
Dearest Mother,
On the 21st or 22nd, we give a concert here for the King, who has sworn death and destruction to all the hares in the country round. In this concert we mean to sing for his benefit (how touching!) the partridge and hare hunt out of the “Seasons.” My “Walpurgis Nacht” is to appear once more in the second part, in a somewhat different garb indeed from the former one, which was somewhat too richly endowed with trombones, and rather poor in the vocal parts; but to effect this, I have been obliged to re-write the whole score from A to Z, and to add two new arias, not to mention the rest of the clipping and cutting. If I don’t like it now, I solemnly vow to give it up for the rest of my life. I think of bringing with me to Berlin a movement from the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and one from “Œdipus.” The music school here, please God! will make a beginning next February; Hauptmann, David, Schumann and his wife, Becker, Pohlenz, and I, are to be the teachers at first. It commences with ten sinecures; the rest who may wish to have instruction, must pay seventy-five thalers a year. Now you know all that I know, the rest can only be taught by experience and trial.
I wished for you recently at a subscription concert. I think I never played the Beethoven G major concerto so well,—my old cheval de bataille; the first cadence especially, and a new return to the solo, pleased me exceedingly, and apparently the audience still more.
What you write to me about the rÉpertoire of your Berlin concerts, does not inspire me with any wish to hear more about them. The arrangement of the “Aufforderung zum Tanz,” and the compositions of English ambassadors,—these are valuable things! If experiments are to be thus made and listened to, it would be advisable to be rather more liberal towards the works of our Fatherland. You will again say that I am cynical; but many of my ideas are so intimately connected with my life and my views on art, that you must be indulgent with regard to them.
The monument to old Sebastian Bach is now very handsome.[62] Bendemann was here the day before yesterday, to inspect it once more. All the inner scaffolding had been removed, so the pillars and smaller columns, and scrolls, and above all the bas-reliefs, and the grand, antiquated old features sparkled clearly in the sun, and caused me great delight. The whole structure, with its numerous elegant decorations, is really typical of the old fellow. It is now covered up again, and will remain so till March, when it is to be inaugurated on his birthday, by one of his motetts. Cedars are to be planted round the monument, and a Gothic seat placed in front of it. We are anxious, however, not to make too much fuss on the subject, and to avoid the present pompous style of phraseology, and the worship of art and artists, which is so much the fashion.
Here, the outward aspect of things is now as much too flourishing, as it formerly was too miserable for artists, which would be very pleasant for us, but it does harm to the cause. Art is becoming spoiled and sluggish, so we should rather be grateful to our present enemies than be angry with them. I also consider it too much good fortune that the King of Prussia has nominated me General Music Director. This is another new title and new honour, whereas I really do not know how to do enough to deserve the old ones.
This is a hallowed day for us all, with its delightful and memorable recollections;[63] think of me too on this anniversary, as I do of you and of him, so long as life endures.—Your
Felix.