Various

To the EDITOR of the HARMONICON.

SIR,

In your critical remarks on the third vocal concert, in the last No. of the Harmonicon under the head Vocal Society, after pointing out the necessity of selecting a proper position for the conductor, or person who is to give the time, the following short, but expressive sentence occurs: ‘The maestro should be seen by every performer, but not heard. We can with propriety extend this observation to the instrumental part of the orchestra, beseeching both leader and conductor to abstain from such merciless stamping of feet, as occurred during the performance of most of the full pieces.’ This, Sir, is excellent, and had you written a volume on the subject you could not, in my opinion, have said more to the purpose, or have made yourself more clearly understood. In fact you have, in few words, given the most judicious and salutary advice, not only to the parties immediately concerned, but to all others (and they are very numerous) to whom it may contingently apply.

Perhaps you will smile at my enthusiasm, when I tell you that most heartily do I wish the foregoing short, but expressive sentence, might be printed in a large type, framed and glazed, and hung up in the sitting-room and bed-chamber (unless one room should unhappily answer both purposes) of every leader and conductor in town and country. I am an Englishman, Mr. Editor, and am proud to witness the splendid talent which many of my countrymen, as vocal and instrumental performers, possess; but, as conductors, (with one or two exceptions,) they do not at present appear to me to have acquired that happy method of conveying their own ideas, or instructions to a large orchestra, which I have more than once seen so skillfully displayed by Moscheles, Hummel, the Chevalier Neukomm, and Mendelssohn. Let any one of these gentlemen be installed maestro, and you will find the band invariably go well, unless, indeed, it be thwarted and checked by the caprice of an overbearing, arbitrary leader: there is no ‘stamping of feet’ with them; but all is conducted in silence. Having studied the score, such a conductor as any one of these relies on himself, and acts with firmness. There is no ambiguity, every motion of the baton is decisive, every glance of the eye expressive, and he makes himself clearly understood by each individual performer. This appears to me, Sir, to be the proper business of the maestro, and of him only. So adieu for the present, Messieurs the Conductors.

And now, for a word or two with the leaders. That ‘stamping of feet,’ Mr. Editor, which you complain of, is, most assuredly, an abominable nuisance, which, strange as it may appear to those of your readers who have not witnessed it, even the Philharmonic Concert, with the best band, perhaps, in Europe, is not entirely free from. I am amazed how any man possessed of common sense, and who is capable of enjoying good music, can so far forget himself, as to be guilty of a practice so glaringly absurd, and there have been times when I have expected the whole band would simultaneously lay down their instruments, and remonstrate against the use of so barbarous a custom. Some years ago, I heard the following anecdote: A very respectable member of the Philharmonic Band obtained permission to take with him to the rehearsal, a blind youth, who had a great passion for music, and, being self-taught, played on the violin. This lad had never in his life heard any music of a high class, such, for instance, as an overture, or symphony; nor, indeed, had he ever before heard a full band. Judge then of the delight he experienced upon hearing a symphony performed by the Philharmonic orchestra! yet, in the midst of his raptures, he complained of a noise which at intervals disturbed his attention and greatly annoyed him, and very innocently exclaimed, ‘what a pity it is that mill should be so near the concert-room!’ Alas! poor boy, the noise which so much offended him, was produced by the leader’s foot-clack.

I will venture to ask, did the elder Cramer, Salomon, or Viotti—men of as great talent, I apprehend, as any in the present day—did they, or either of them, annoy both the audience and the band by beating the time, as it were, with a wooden shoe? If I may form an opinion by what I have seen and heard of Mr. Weichsel, (who may be considered as belonging to the same school,) I should answer—No.

Then, Sir, there is another habit which of late years seems to have become fashionable with at least some of our leaders, but which, in my opinion, is as useless and offensive as the ‘stamping of feet.’ The custom I allude to is, for the leader to leave off playing at certain intervals, and then, assuming what I presume he thinks a very elegant attitude, and commanding position, flourishing his bow backwards and forwards most heroically. So that, while this species of charlatanism is going on, there are, in fact, two conductors, and no leader! I presume this is done either to catch the attention of the ladies, or to impress on the minds of the unthinking part of the audience, an idea of his importance and zeal. I have more than once shut my eyes to avoid looking at this—what shall I call it?—coquetting with the audience—and have exclaimed in the words of Shakspeare—‘that’s villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.’ I have always entertained the notion that the leader, or principal violin, should play his part, and that he, like every other performer, should take the time from the conductor[49]. This, I understand, was the method pursued by M. Chelard, the maestro at the German opera last season at the King’s Theatre. He proved himself an excellent conductor; and I have been told by one of the best musical critics in this country that, with confessedly an inferior band, (for he had not the assistance of Nicholson, Willman, Platt, Lindley, or Dragonetti,) the orchestral accompaniments were much more effective, and in every respect superior to the Italian Opera.

I am happy to close these remarks, by stating that the same judicious and rational plan appeared to be adopted at the second Philharmonic concert this season; the consequence was, that two very difficult symphonies of Spohr and Beethoven were most admirably performed.

I am, Mr. Editor,
Your most obedient servant,
Z.