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<p class="Heading-1"><span>6</span>. Armonica Virtuosi</p>
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<p class="Heading-2">Marianne Davies: From Riches to Rags</p>
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<p class="Normal">Marianne Davies (1743/4<span class="char-style-override-1">–</span>c.1818) was our first armonica virtuosa, and was instrumental in introducing the armonica to the Continent. She was the daughter of composer and flautist Richard Davies (d.1773), and elder sister of the better-known singer Cecilia Davies (“la Inglesina”). Both parents seem to have been musicians, the father a composer and flautist.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">1</span> On April 30, 1751, at the age of seven, Marianne played a concerto by Handel on the harpsichord in her own benefit concert at Hickford’s Great Room in Brewer Street.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">2</span><span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2"> </span>She also sang some songs and played a concerto of her own composition on the German flute.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">3</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Again for her benefit, on March 19, 1753, this time at the Great Room in Dean Street, Soho, Miss Davies — announced as “A Child of Nine Years Old” — played a Handel concerto on the harpsichord. About this time two pieces by her proud father were published in London, entitled:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Ye Sacred Muses now attend. A New Song. The Words by a Gentleman on hearing a little Miss perform on the Harpsichord and German Flute and Musick can charm the human heart. An Extempore Thought, on hearing the Performances of Miss Davies, a Child of Eight Years of Age, in the Great Room in Dean Street. Set ... for the German Flute.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">4</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">The young prodigy continued to perform around London. There was another benefit concert for herself on February 28, 1757, where she and her father played German flutes together, and she performed on the harpsichord. She gave another performance on April 22, 1757 where, announced as making her second appearance on any stage, she played the German flute, accompanying singer Mrs. Lampe.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">5</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Marianne would thus appear to have set out with the intention of becoming a singer, flautist and harpsichordist. This was all changed in 1761 when she encountered Benjamin Franklin and his glass armonica. She gave the world premier performance of Franklin’s new invention in early 1762, and thus must have had access to a completed instrument in 1761 to learn how to play it:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">The celebrated glassy-chord, invented by Mr. Franklin of Philadelphia: who has greatly improved the musical glasses, and formed them into a compleat instrument to accompany the voice; capable of a thorough bass, and never out of tune. Miss Davies from London, was to perform in the month of January, several favourite airs, English, Scotch and Italian, on the Glassychord (being the only one of the Kind that has yet been produced) accompanied occasionally with the voice and the German Flute.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">6</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">The first performance seems to have occurred on February 18, 1762 at the Great Room in Spring Gardens, when she also sang and played the German flute. These performances lasted through March 27, after which she gave various concerts around London.</p>
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<p class="Normal">From 1763 to 1767 the Davies family gave concerts in England, Ireland and Paris. News of the new instrument spread quickly. In August 1766 a writer in Leipzig describes hearing Davies in Paris. He begins by announcing that a new musical instrument has been invented by the “celebrated Franklin.”</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Perhaps the invention of this instrument came about by rubbing electrical glass bowls or tubes and he made a sound, or he was enjoying the long known skill of bringing forth sound with a finger moving with constant circular motion around the wet rim of a drinking glass.</p>
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<p class="Normal">And in the same article:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">An English woman performer, the younger Davies, whom the inventer has endowed with such an instrument, is at present the only person to play it with proper perfection; Mr. Franklin himself is only musical enough to play it for his own enjoyment. </p>
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<p class="Quotation">This last summer I had the pleasure, in the H<span>ô</span>tel d’Angleterre in Paris, to hear this woman-player play twice daily, not only to witness her great ability and the advantages of the instrument, but also to sufficiently acquaint myself with the latter.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">7</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">In the summer of 1767 Mary Rich (London) wrote to Franklin (also in London) that she had just heard that Miss Davies had been performing to great applause.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">8</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">So the family decided to try their luck on the Continent in general, and collected letters of introduction from their London acquaintances.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">9</span> We have fifteen of these letters of recommendation. The first eight are from Joseph Baretti (1719–89), critic and miscellaneous writer, and are addressed to his relatives and friends in Turin and Leghorn, Genoa, Ancona, Venice, Verona, Bologna and Milan. From them we discover that “they are recommended me by my most worthy Friend Mr. Sam Johnson.” Samuel Johnson (1709–1784) was one of England’s great literary figures — it is not known how the Davies sisters came to be acquainted with him.</p>
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<p class="Normal">The ninth to the fifteenth letters of introduction are by no less than Johann Christian Bach (1735–1782), the ‘London Bach’, son of the famous J.S. Bach and a noteworthy composer in his own right. J.C. Bach also taught composition to an eight year old Mozart, and a warm student/teacher relationship ensued which lasted until Bach's death. J.C. Bach’s letters of introduction for the Davies were to his two brothers in Germany: Karl Phillip Emmanuel Bach (1714–1788), the ‘Berlin Bach’, and Wilhelm Friedman Bach (1710–1784), the ‘Dresden Bach’ — also noteworthy composers in their own right.</p>
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<p class="Normal">Throughout these letters the emphasis is laid not only on the girls’ musicianship but also on their good character and their Catholic faith. There is no doubt that they were very much helped by fellow-Catholics, and their connection with the Bachs, the Mozarts and Mrs. Garrick (a wealthy and well-known patron of the arts in London) was probably primarily through meetings at Catholic chapels in London.</p>
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<p class="Normal">Armed with these letters, the family went to Vienna in the fall of 1768. It was their introduction to Gluck which bore the most fruit, for the two sisters were taken into employment by the Empress Maria Theresa, became favorites of society and often gave performances at the Imperial Court. The Davies sisters taught music (including the armonica) to the royal daughters, among whom were two future queens: Marie Antoinette of France and Maria Carolina of Naples.</p>
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<p class="Normal">In Vienna the sisters also met the popular composer Johann Adolf Hasse who gave Cecilia singing lessons. The sisters lodged at Hasse’s house.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">10</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Hasse wrote a cantata for the sisters on the occasion of the marriage of the Archduchess Amalia to Duke Ferdinand of Parma, which was perhaps the high point in the sisters’ joint career. In honor of the bridal couple the Italian librettist Pietro Metastasio, then court poet, composed an ode in Italian which Hasse set to music for soprano with armonica accompaniment, called, appropriately enough, <span class="Book-Title">L’Armonica</span>. According to research by Thomsen-Fürst, this is the first original composition for glass armonica.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">11</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">The Davies sisters performed this composition on June 27, 1769, apparently to the great satisfaction and approval of the assembled guests. Metastasio, in a letter dated January 16, 1772, described the beautiful tone of the armonica and how Cecilia produced her voice so that it was indistinguishable from the instrument. Marianne seems to have remembered her benefactor Franklin, for a copy of the words survives among Franklin’s papers:<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">12</span></p>
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<p class="Quotation">Aah, why cannot I, too, Filomena, like you, weave with my song a sweet shackle for souls?</p>
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<p class="Quotation">If today any lip casts to the breeze harsh words, it is too bold; but if it is silent on such a great day, it is no less guilty.</p>
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<p class="Quotation">(Recitative:) Sister, be bold. Fit your skillful hand to the spinning crystals, and rouse their rare seductive harmony. I, too, with song shall try to imitate their amorous tenor. Who could repress applause and good wishes, now that Amalia’s languid, tenuous, plaintive tone of the new harmonic instrument gives you pause. Leave to Mars his noisy trumpets, servants of his ire. More befitting to love is a sweet melody, provocative not of wrath, but of tender affections; better company it is to that calm light, the benign manner, the sweet majesty which are transfused from her fair soul over the countenance of the Royal Spouse. Although subdued, the style of our song will be pleasing to her; for the humble tone is not a sin or fault. And respect always speaks in humble tones.</p>
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<p class="Quotation">(Aria:) In the season of flowers and fresh loves, pleasing is the soft breath of a light breeze. Whether it sighs among the leaves or slowly wrinkles the waves, a breeze is everywhere the companion of pleasure.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">13</span><span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2"></span></p>
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<li class="Figure-Caption"><span class="char-style-override-3">Figure 34: </span>“Armonica Player” (1819) Claude Desrais</li>
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<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
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<p class="Normal">The Davies left Vienna in October 1770 for Italy. In Milan the Mozarts happened to be standing on the balcony of their lodgings when they saw the Davies family arriving. Leopold Mozart writing to his wife on September 21, 1771 said:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">A few days ago Miss Davies arrived and rode past our house in the mail coach. I recognized her and she recognized us, for we happened to be standing on the balcony. A few hours later I went to call on her at the ‘Three Kings’, which is not very far, as I guessed that she would be staying there, since it is the most respectable inn. She, her sister, father and mother had inexpressible joy. I told their servant where Herr Hasse was staying and very soon his daughter appeared, who also was beside herself with joy, for they have been most cordial friends since they met in Vienna. They all immediately asked for you and they send you their greetings. You will surely remember Miss Davies with her glass organ [Gla<span>ß</span>-orgl]?<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">14</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Notice he says “you will surely remember Miss Davies with her glass organ” — apparently they had seen and heard her before. </p>
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<p class="Normal">In December 1771 the sisters went to Naples, where Cecilia was given a very prima donna role in an opera by Hasse. It seems that after this success the family returned to Rome.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">15</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">The player in the picture “Armonica Player” may be Marianne Davies.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">16</span> (If the artist used a model, then who else?) Notice the drape covering the lower half of her body — in keeping with ‘feminine modesty’ in those days. Also, shortly we shall meet an armonica player and composer named Rollig, who saw Marianne Davies play and was inspired to build his own instrument. Rollig concealed the treadle and flywheel to give the instrument greater ‘mystery’.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">17</span> Might he have gotten that idea from Marianne?</p>
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<p class="Normal">In a letter from Rome dated July 1772 to Sir Horace Mann we read:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Sir,</p>
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<p class="Quotation">I have the honour of presenting to you the sisters Marianne and Cecilia Davies, your compatriots, both musical virtuosi, of whom one sings marvelously, the other plays the harmonica, an entirely new instrument, which corresponds well to its name, and which is unique to this young lady. The are making a tour of Italy in the company of their father and mother, and deserve by their abilities and their other virtues to be welcomed everywhere they go. They will certainly be well received in Tuscany if you will grant them, as I ask, the honour of your protection, of which they are worthy.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">18</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">In the summer of 1772 the Davies found themselves in Florence. On August 2 the archducal court was entertained by the two ladies, “One of whom distinguished herself in a concerto performed on an instrument of crystal made in London called the Armonico.” For their efforts they were rewarded with a gold snuffbox and a watch and chain.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">19</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">By the end of 1772 the family was once again in Vienna, then returned to Italy in the spring or summer of 1773 and then back to London where Cecilia had accepted an offer to play Berenice in Sacchini’s <span class="Book-Title">Lucio Vero</span> on November 20.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">20</span> Cecilia must have been singing with a broken heart, for their father had died in December.</p>
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<p class="Normal">1778 found both the Davies sisters and Franklin in Paris. On January 29 she sent Franklin this note:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">I hope you will excuse the liberty I take in troubling you with this line but being come to Paris with my mother and sister on account of the latter’s health, should think myself guilty of an unpardonable neglect were I not to take an opportunity of waiting on the ingenious inventor of the divine armonica. My sister continually expresses her infinite obligations to you sir, and as she is just at present able to go out and is extremely desirous to have the pleasure of seeing you; but least we might happen to call at an inconvenient time I should esteem it a particular favour could you let me know by the bearer any moment tomorrow when you are at leisure, as we are very impatient to have the happiness of waiting on you. If not tomorrow, any other day except Saturday or Monday next.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">21</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Marianne had health problems. Franklin seems to have specified “dinner Sunday evening,” to which Cecilia replied the next day:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">I should have been happy to the greatest degree in the honour of dining with you Sunday, but to my misfortune since my sister’s late illness she does not dine from home; but I shall have the honour of waiting on you with my mother and sister Sunday afternoon if you will give us leave.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">22</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Cecilia’s professional life was on the rise, but we just saw in Cecilia’s letters to Franklin that Marianne was plagued by ill health. (Another note from Cecilia dated September 24th of that year would suggest that another get-together was in the offing.) </p>
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<p class="Normal">The Davies’ situation was growing desperate. From Florence on April 26, 1783 Marianne writes a rather extraordinary letter to Franklin detailing their predicament and asking for a favor:<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">23</span></p>
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<p class="Quotation">Dear Sir.</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Notwithstanding I am at present a being almost insensible to any joy or pleasure this miserable life can afford, yet as I do still exist, so do in me the strongest feelings of gratitude, respect, and esteem, by which I must always be most sincerely attach’d to my ever dear and worthy friend and benefactor Doctor Franklin...</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Indeed since I had the pleasure of seeing you last, both my sister and I have gone thro’ a great deal of grief and trouble of various kinds. After having the affliction to see our dear affectionate mother suffer a long and severe illness, we had the misfortune to lose her; which was a grief almost too much for us to bear. Since that, I had a violent return of my nervous complaints which brought me so low that there were little hopes of my recovery. I was near a twelvemonth confin’d to my room, and most part of the time to my bed. You will easily imagine what anxiety of mind this occasion’d my poor sister; whose greatest foible is — being too much attach’d to me. By this illness of mine my sister suffer’d much likewise in her interests; for as she would not on any account quit me she was oblig’d to decline several advantageous offers in her theatrical profession. Misfortunes generally follow one another. At least we find it so. A person in whose hands my sister and I had unluckily plac’d our money, fail’d, so that we have as one may say to begin the world again. And to compleat our bad luck, death snatch’d away a sovereign at whose court (had I not been too giddy and fond of travelling some few years ago) we might have been happily settled and to whom had Fate spar’d her to us, we might have had recourse at any time; particularly in our present lonely situation! The great and good Empress Maria Teresa would I am certain have even felt pleasure in taking into her service those orphans whose parents as well as themselves She had formerly graciously deign’d to patronize in a most particular manner. But she is gone! In short we meet with nothing but losses and vexation, so much so that for my part I am heartily disgusted of the world.</p>
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<p class="Normal">Marianne’s ‘nervous complaints’ which confined her to bed for almost a year, Cecilia’s career compromised by caring for Marianne, both parents and their formerly generous patrons gone, and a major financial reversal — on top of the grueling demands of an ongoing concert career on the road — life had been hard. In spite of all these calamities, Marianne was working on reviving her armonica career:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">I am destin’d to begin the world again, and that at a time when I did suppose my career of life was at an end. However since it must be so, I have once more got in practise of the armonica, and make no doubt that if I could travel with it to different capital cities and courts as I have done before, ’twould be well worth my while: but unfortunately for me, my situation is now so different to what it was then, that I dread undertaking to travel with that Instrument under my charge. Well I remember the difficulties and expence attending it and the perpetual fear of its being damaged at each custom house &ca. &ca. Yet at that time I was happy in my poor dear father’s continual care and attention. The protection likewise of our dear parents made travelling then appear to me quite in another light. How can I now think of roving in that manner from one country to another with only a sister so much younger than myself? Yet something I must do, and really when I consider that I have the prerogative (thro’ your goodness) of being the first public performer on that instrument; and that even yet, by all I can get information of, no one else has made much progress on it, tho’ some attempt it; these reflections give me courage. Were I but in Paris under your protection! Sometimes I have a mind to propose to my sister for us to set off immediately towards Paris. But the knowledge I have of what one must spend in that city for lodging, living, &ca. &ca. and the inevitable expence attending such a long journey, soon deters me from proposing to undertake it merely upon chance.</p>
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<p class="Normal">By the way, some have blamed Marianne’s ‘nervous complaints’ on playing the armonica. But as we can see, Marianne herself doesn’t blame them on the armonica; she’s even practicing and planning on resuming her performance career. Perhaps she was simply severely depressed from illness, the loss of both parents, all patrons, and her entire financial well-being ­— depression would be completely understandable under the circumstances!</p>
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<p class="Normal">Marianne has a specific proposal for Franklin:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">A project however occurs to me, which if I have any good luck at all left, I should think might be brought to bear thro’ your interest. The Queen of France is fond of music. A small annual pension from her majesty would attach to her service the original performer upon an instrument, the invention of which being superiorly perfect, renders it worthy the patronage of that sovereign. And particularly so as the inventor is universally ador’d by the French nation. Now if you dear sir will but interest yourself for me with your usual benevolence, what should prevent this being granted?</p>
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<p class="Normal">Nothing seems to have come of her proposal, however, for she sends another letter to Franklin in October 17, 1783:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">I made so free as to trouble you with some account of my present situation, entreating your advice but I am so unfortunate as never to have had any answer. I have been and am still in the greatest anxiety imaginable on this account and can only conclude that either the said letter or your answer must have miscarried: for surely had you received it, you would have favour’d me with a line before now.</p>
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<p class="Normal">We have no record of a reply. Meanwhile, Marianne wasn’t waiting for Franklin. Around May of that year she placed the following advertisement in the <span class="Book-Title">Tuscan Gazette</span>:</p>
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<li class="Figure-Caption"><span class="char-style-override-3">Figure 35: </span>Franklin's electrostatic generator. Silk rubs a rotating glass cylinder to produce electricity.</li>
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<img class="frame-3" src="08-ArmonicaVirtuosi-web-resources/image/Franklin-Electrostatic_opt.jpeg" alt="Franklin-Electrostatic.psd" />
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<p class="Normal"></p>
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<p class="Quotation">Marianne Davies, original player of the instrument of electrical music called the Armonica , in view of her imminent departure from this city, informs the public that those who wish to hear her in their homes can be served if they will give notice a day in advance.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">24</span> </p>
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<p class="Normal">Notice the phrase “electrical music” — obviously Marianne was trying to capitalize on Franklin’s scientific fame by implying a mysterious connection between his spectacular electrical discoveries and the eerie sound of the armonica. After all, the rotating glass bells of the armonica somewhat resemble electrostatic generators of the day which used silk rubbing rotating glass to produce electricity.</p>
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<p class="Normal">Notwithstanding the “imminent departure” that Marianne threatened in the above advertisement (around May 1783), they were still languishing in Florence in wretched circumstances during Lord Mount Edgecumbe’s visit in 1784–1785. Finally the English colony in Florence, stirred to pity, staged a benefit concert whose proceeds enabled the two sisters to return to England.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">25</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Now in London, by 1797 we find the sisters reduced to giving singing lessons to beginning students. The Rev. Thomas Rackett’s mother writes in June 19, 1797:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Miss Davies call’d on me and in the kindest manner assured me they took the greatest pleasure in instructing the dear Dorothea for they had it quite at heart, and was sure in a short time they should bring her out a little wonder to all your friends, that was their words, for which reason they wish’d nobody to hear her yet, only they beg she may read music as much as she can.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">26</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">These singing lessons to daughter Dorothea blossomed into an abiding friendship with the Rackett family. In a letter dated September 4, 1813 Cecilia tells Mrs. Rackett that her sister is living with her but is in poor health.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">27</span> The death of Mrs. Garrick seems to have brought the Davies sisters a small relief from money concerns. Dorothea Rackett, now Mrs. Solly, wrote to her mother in August 1824:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Mrs. Domville thinks Miss [Cecilia] Davis is right to spend Mrs. Garrick’s legacy as long as it lasts since she cannot live upon air. When the money is gone she must trust to the kindness of her surviving friends who now that her necessities are made known will not leave her in absolute want but there is no necessity for her to — [illegible] and hoard however trifling as she has no one to provide for but herself; from the language of Lady Thorold it is extremely probable that she and her sister will subscribe whatever may be necessary.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">28</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">From the phrase “she has no one to provide for but herself” we surmise that Marianne is now deceased. Sources disagree on the year, but generally place her death around 1816–1819.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">29</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Cecilia lingered in indigent circumstances and in poor health for another decade — modestly supported in her declining years by the National Fund and the Royal Society of Musicians. Writing on January 17, 1826 Cecilia tells Mrs. Rackett: “Every December brings to my recollection the great affliction which it pleased the Almighty to send me, and, which all my resolution can never get the better of God’s will be done.”</p>
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<p class="Normal">Lamenting the loss of her sister, Cecilia wrote on August 1, 1831:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">But alas! I must now be satisfied with the Recollection of the pleasure I enjoyed in traveling as of a pleasing dream never more to be realized having for ever lost that Dear Companion my ever to be lamented Sister whose Society alone could make any spot of the Globe a Paradice to me but we must submit in every thing to the Will of the Almighty.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">30</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Cecilia died in London on July 3, 1835, aged about 78. The funeral of this fine singer, who had taught the queens of France and Naples, was attended only by an old nurse and a servant.<span class="Book-Title char-style-override-4">30</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">Concerning the fate of Marianne’s instrument: <span class="Book-Title">The Harmonicon</span> of August 1832 gives us a column about the lives of Cecilia and Marianne Davies, and mentions that the armonica “is still in good order, in the possession of a lady who was a favourite pupil of Miss Davies.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">31</span> A letter from Mrs. Solly (ne<span>é</span> Rackett) of February 5, 1835 says:</p>
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<p class="Quotation">Mr. E. Solly writes us word that Wheatestone is to lecture on Acoustics at King’s College in London and wishes much to have the loan of the Armonica. I shall refer him to Miss [Cecilia] Davies as I cannot venture to lend it without her permission and he may as well call on her and it may be of some use to her.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">32</span></p>
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<p class="Normal">After this all trace of Marianne’s instrument appears lost.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">33</span></p>
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<p class="Heading-2">P.J. Frick: Renounced Music for ‘The Second Coming’</p>
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<p class="Normal">Philipp Joseph Frick (sometimes Fricke, 1742–1798) was an organist, composer and noted performer on the glass armonica who captivated eighteenth century audiences throughout Europe from Russia to London.</p>
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<p class="Normal">As he described himself, “the writer was (formerly) obliged to travel through the greatest part of Europe, and thus became known with his musical instrument Harmonica, almost to every monarch and individual.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">34</span> He also composed and published works for piano/harpsichord and other instruments, and several books on music theory.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">35</span> A review mentions that he played one of his own compositions, so apparently he composed for it, alas none has apparently survived.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">36</span> He also tried to add a keyboard to the armonica.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">37</span> In 1797 — a year before his death — he published his mystical religious magnum opus called <span class="Book-Title">The True Knowledge of God and Man; of the Great Sabbath on Earth; and of the Restoration of All Things; With some Essential Remarks on the Duty we owe to our Creator</span>, generally now referred to (when referred to at all) as simply <span class="Book-Title">The True Knowledge</span>.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Frick was born in Willanzheim, a village near Würzburg in southern Germany, on April 14, 1742. He was the son of a Catholic schoolteacher in Willanzheim, Matthäus Frick, and his wife Margaretha Zapff, who were married in the town of Willanzheim in 1736. Where the young Joseph Frick, as he was to call himself in later life, received his musical education is not known,<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">38</span> but he was apparently talented enough to rise to the position of court organist to August Georg, the Catholic Margrave of Baden-Baden, from 1762 until 1771, the year in which August Georg died.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In 1769 Frick traveled and performed on the armonica throughout Germany: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Also, Frick is here, former organist at Baden, a traveling armonica player. He plays very badly, particularly miserable are his own compositions; but the rarity of the instrument means that it requires mention.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">39</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">He performed in Frankfurt on September 16, 1769 and received a much happier review:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Herr Frick ... gave a concert on the armonica which he built himself. This instrument consists of pure glass bells, evoking such a fine and singing tone as has never been heard before in music.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">39</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">While in the employ of August Georg, the Margrave requested Frick to build an armonica, and the completed instrument seems to have pleased the prince. But he never was paid for it, as Frick himself recounts:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">From the year 1762 to 1771, the writer was organist to the Prince or Margrave of Baaden, for whom he was desired to make the said Harmonica, and for which purpose the then Court-Marshal Baron Schönau advanced the money. When ready, the prince was indeed pleased with the instrument: but the said baron took back his money from the writer’s whole salary, which obliged him to leave that Court, and to travel — as mentioned above.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">40</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Frick may have had the armonica built in Karlsruhe, where there was a glass armonica factory. Schmittbauer (whom we shall meet shortly) was Frick’s superior at this post, and also apparently had his instruments made at this same factory.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">41</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In 1771 the Margrave died. The catholic Margrave was succeeded by his cousin the Protestant Karl Friedrich von Baden-Durlach who joined the houses Baden-Baden and Baden-Durlach. In the merger Frick found himself out of a job.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">42</span> So he apparently toured Germany again: we know he gave a concert in Hamburg on February 8, 1773.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">43</span> He then traveled to Russia, lived in Moscow and fended for a living by advertising his talents in the local newspaper. In the <span class="Book-Title">Gazette de Moscou</span> of April 1, 1774 he announced armonica performances on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. On July 15, 1774 he again advertised in <span class="Book-Title">Gazette de Moscou</span> to lovers of music that glass armonicas could be ordered from him. While in Moscow he lodged with an architect named Rosberg.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">44</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Frick claims to have performed occasionally in the presence of Catherine the Great. In 1775 he was appointed piano teacher to Grand-Duchess Nathalie Alexeievna, first wife of Catherine the Great’s son and successor Paul Petrovich,<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2"> </span>and moved to St. Petersburg. When his highborn pupil died in childbirth in 1775, Frick was again left penniless and out of a job. Frick (writing in the third person) describes what happened:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">In Russia, he was (afterwards) music-master to the Grand Duchess. When she died, almost his whole salary, &c. was due to him, as likewise some presents for having several times played upon his harmonica before the Empress: and to the honour of that Imperial Court be it said, both sums were ordered to be paid, but again, the Minister, (Nicolay Iwanowitz Soltikoft) withheld the money. On account of this second loss he [the writer] was obliged to travel still farther on, instead of returning to his original home; and though he never thought of coming to England, yet, two days before he intended to set off from Holland to the southern parts, he was wonderfully directed to go to London (1778) at least for a few months.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">45</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">He left Russia for Germany in 1776 or 1777. Twelve years prior, in 1764, established in his career as a court musician (as he thought) in the employ of the Margrave at Baden-Baden, Frick had married Josepha Domini Fistler on October 9, 1764. The marriage was witnessed by Joseph Schmittbauer. It’s not known if Frick took his wife with him to Russia, but he must have left her behind in Rastatt, in rather poor circumstances, when he continued his travels after his return from Russia. The registers of the city of Rastatt in Baden list the wife of “court organist” Frick, who received alms, wood and corn from the local alms fund from 1778 until 1782. The reason for the separation may be found in Frick’s own commentary on Matthew 5:32: “It says, Man and Wife are not allowed to separate, except for adultery; forcible means, such as a soldier being sent abroad, or an absolute necessity to seek for bread, excuse the man likewise.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">46</span> </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">So, in 1778 Frick traveled to Holland. Originally planning to head south, Frick says (writing of himself in the third person): “...though he never thought of coming to England, yet, two days before he intended to set off from Holland to the Southern parts, he was wonderfully directed to go to London [1778] at least for a few months.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">47</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Things didn’t go well for Frick in London either, at least not initially:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">But having been robbed there, in the first fortnight, of a valuable gold watch, and his whole property being lost soon after (which however he received again after ten months) he was certainly obliged to enter into business, [teaching the harpsichord] in order to get again, if possible, the expence he had incurred during that time, and what he was robbed of. This restitution came, however, so slowly, that at last he grew too old for pursuing his travels; and lately he employed much time upon this present [religious] knowledge, whereby he neglected all opportunities for increasing his [music] business; therefore he acquired till now [1796] no more than what enabled him (during these 19 years past) to pay — as he did — every day for what he wanted, without having been at any time indebted or troublesome to any person whatever.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">48</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">So he pursued his musical career with some success, teaching the harpsichord and giving performances on his glass armonica to London audiences to general applause. Reichardt, a fellow armonica virtuoso/composer, probably met Frick when he traveled to London in 1785, and reported that Frick was active as a music teacher and had written several compositions.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">49</span> He must have had some reputation as a musician, as Haydn, on his first trip to London, lists Frick as a notable musician of his day.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">50</span> He also dedicated one of his books to the Queen (perhaps in hopes of a reward) and may have been introduced to her — possibly after a performance.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">51</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In 1779, a year after arriving in London, he joined the Masonic Pilgrim Lodge (now no. 238 ) — founded in that year specifically for the German speaking community in London. Frick was not a founding member, but as its seventh member he was a very early one. Interestingly he listed his occupation as ‘businessman’, and not ‘musician’, for reasons that are not entirely clear. When he was admitted he had the qualification ‘Affil.’ added to the date of admission, meaning he was already a mason, although it is unclear where in his travels he first joined. He was made the lodge’s Director of Ceremonies from 1779 to 1781. He probably met Haydn and Reichardt — two visiting German musicians who were also Masons. And Johann Christian Bach, Queen Charlotte’s music master, was also inducted into the Pilgrim Lodge in 1781.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">52</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">It’s unknown how long Frick remained in the lodge. His interests were increasingly taking a centenary turn. Much like our own recent “Y-2-K” — short for “Year 2<span class="char-style-override-1">–</span>Kilo” (or thousand) — Europeans were experiencing their own “Y<span class="char-style-override-1">–</span>1.8<span class="char-style-override-1">–</span>K” fever: many ‘millenarian’ (centenian?) groups were expecting Jesus Christ to establish his 1000-year reign at the turn of the 19th century. There was a tense social and political climate in both England and the Continent — everyone was on edge after the Reign of Terror in France, and prophecies abounded. “Pamphlets prophesying the end of time and the establishment of the New Jerusalem on earth, as envisioned by John in Revelation XXI.2, were printed in abundance in London.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">53</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In 1795, a dramatic spiritual conversion appears to have urged Frick to observe a more retiring way of life, and in 1797 he published his <span class="Book-Title">True Knowledge</span>, which promised to describe the great “Sabbath on Earth,” and was also intended to prepare mankind for the imminent coming of Christ. It was published by William Bryan, himself involved in millenarian circles at least since 1789, and Frick published his tract anonymously — perhaps a wise precaution considering that Richard Brothers, a prominent millenarian, had proved a sufficient threat to the authorities that they committed him to an insane asylum. (Brothers continued to publish from the asylum anyway.)<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">54</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Frick claimed to be divinely inspired. In <span class="Book-Title">The True Knowledge</span> he declared that he was favored by God to present to the world the true account of man’s divine origin, so men might know and prepare for the coming of Christ. Christ had even revealed to the Writer (Frick) the reasons why his Kingdom will be established upon Earth. According to Frick, this was never before communicated to any person in the world. We may take it as proof, said Frick, that it was only to be known at the latter end, otherwise something of it would certainly have been mentioned before, either by a Prophet or by an Apostle. This seems to be additional proof that the long expected time (Daniel XII.89) must be at hand.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">55</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Some of the many divine revelations Frick received were not to be made public yet: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Several other real reasons of the Lord’s judgements have likewise been given to the Writer, but as they are not absolutely necessary for our instruction and preparation, they are not permitted publicly to be mentioned at present.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">56</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="Book-Title">The True Knowledge</span>, as Frick informs us in a footnote to page 112, was published only after divine approval: “The merciful permission for publishing this book was received on the 14th day of March 1797, at noon, 12 o’clock; for which Mercy the Lord be praised for ever.” Frick is very meticulous about the times he received his revelations, most of which appear to have been communicated to him in August 1795.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">57</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Frick died in London on June 15, 1798, without being able to see the turn of the century that had so obsessed him. Perhaps it is just as well, as the much anticipated Second Coming didn’t come to pass. Frick didn’t leave a will. Although he lived separated from his wife at least from 1778 onwards (two decades until his death), communication lines between the couple seem to have remained open: Josepha Frick is described as a widow in the Rastatt registers as early as June 26, 1798, eleven days after Frick had died in England. She died in difficult circumstances in Rastatt in 1802, four years after her husband.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">58</span> </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">According to the oft-quoted biographer Gerber,<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">59</span> Frick gave up the instrument in 1786 because of its ruinous effects on his nerves. But we have just seen Frick say:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">This restitution [of financial losses] came, however, so slowly, that at last he grew too old for pursuing his travels; and lately he employed much time upon this present [religious] knowledge, whereby he neglected all opportunities for increasing his [music] business...<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">60</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In other words, it would appear that his religion was crowding out his music career. And earlier in the same passage he writes:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">These [musical] journeys [throughout Europe] were to be performed (as he but lately understood) <span class="char-style-override-5">merely</span> for the purpose of proving now to all, who saw and knew him, that unlearned Men, like the Apostles, may again receive Light; and likewise that, as <span class="char-style-override-5">he</span> found Mercy, every person might trust in the Lord for Pardon...<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">61</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In other words, his music career was merely a prelude to his religious one. Furthermore, the autobiographical passage in <span class="Book-Title">The True Knowledge</span> from which we have been quoting (published in 1797, well after the supposed ‘nervous disorders’) makes a point of enumerating the long list of misfortunes that befell him and led him to God. If ‘nerve damage had forced him to quit the armonica’, one would think he would have included that particularly convincing calamity in his list of woes.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-2">K.L. Rollig: Eccentric Showman</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Karl L. Rollig (1750?–1804, also Röllig, Roellig) was an armonica performer and composer. He was born in Hamburg; we aren’t sure exactly when — some time around 1750. We know nothing of his youth.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">62</span> He was musical director of Ackermann’s theatrical company in Hamburg from 1764 to 1769 and in 1771–2. His lost opera <span class="Book-Title">Clarisse</span> was performed in Hamburg in 1771 and two years later in Hanover. Around 1780 he took up the glass armonica and went on a concert tour. In Dresden he was the guest of J.G. Naumann, and appearances are recorded in Hamburg (1781 and 1788) and Berlin (1787). From 1791 to his death he lived in Vienna, where he had a post at the court library and frequently performed on the glass armonica. He never married.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Rollig was very interested in improving the glass armonica. He visited most of the glassworks of Bohemia and Hungary in his search for the best glasses.Around 1785 he developed a method for marking the chromatic glasses (the ‘sharps and flats — the ‘black keys’) with gold rims. In 1784 Rollig (like Frick 15 years earlier, but independently of other contemporary developments) apparently built a keyboard version of the glass armonica (see <a href="#Anchor">Figure 35</a>)</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In a 1796 article about the armonica, W.C. Muller informs us:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Because he wasn’t a keyboard player, he had a certain Mr. Johannes with him; but he was so secretive with the mechanics of the keyboard that even his companion was not allowed to look inside the instrument. He even refused to allow the king of Prussia to do so and refused to sell it for whatever price might be offered.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">63</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Rollig concealed the treadle and flywheel to give the instrument greater ‘mystery’.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">64</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Rollig invented the ‘Orphica’ around 1795 (a portable and ethereal sounding three-octave piano), for which Beethoven wrote two works. Rollig also developed the related ‘X<span>ä</span>norphica’ in 1801 with Mathias M<span>ü</span>ller, and published numerous essays on instrument building. In his compositions Naumann praised his “subtle use of diminished and augmented intervals and harmonies and their resolution,” but Rochlitz reported that he “plays far better than he writes.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">65</span> </p>
|
||
<div>
|
||
<div class="Basic-Text-Frame">
|
||
<ol>
|
||
<li class="Figure-Caption"><span class="char-style-override-3">Figure 36: </span><a id="Anchor" />Rollig's Keyboard-armonica. <br />From <span class="Book-Title">Musikalische Real-Zeitung</span> 1789 s.31</li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<div class="frame-2">
|
||
<img class="frame-4" src="08-ArmonicaVirtuosi-web-resources/image/RolligArmonica_fmt.png" alt="RolligArmonica.psd" />
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Muller continues:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">An Englishwoman toured with such an instrument through south Germany. Mr. Rollig saw it, journeyed to a Bohemian glasshouse and made a similar armonica with much difficulty, only with the colors omitted, and overlaid the protruding rims of the half tones with gold to differentiate the notes — like the black and white keys on the keyboard. Incidentally he gave the instrument a mysterious reputation; concealed the free-floating flywheel, together with the treadle, and consequently hung cords on the side of the wheel which, he says, relieve the harmful vibrations when the fingers play the glasses. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">He furnished his instrument with <span class="char-style-override-6">brilliantly sparkling</span> silver candlesticks, like those in the Holies of the Jewish Temples. With a Rosicrucian, ceremonial, quiet nobility he always went to his work, and did not allow anyone to touch his instrument. Thus like other lesser charlatanisms, e.g. with anecdotes about the supernatural effects of these instruments in the Moravian communities and in the subterranean gatherings of the Rosicrucians, he published s<span class="char-style-override-6">ome of these stories</span>, to the rapt attention of the public, to his not <span class="char-style-override-6">inconsiderable</span> economic benefit.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">1</span><span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2"></span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">We have some of Rollig’s extraordinary stories in an essay he published in 1787: ¨<span>Ü</span>ber Die Harmonika: Ein Fragment (“Concerning the Armonica: A Fragment”). He begins by waxing quite eloquent about the instrument:</p>
|
||
<ul>
|
||
<li class="Bullets"><span class="char-style-override-3">•	</span> “There has never been an instrument more important for the future than the armonica... ”</li>
|
||
<li class="Bullets"><span class="char-style-override-3">•	</span> It is “the most beautiful and pleasant instrument ever possessed by mankind... ”</li>
|
||
<li class="Bullets"><span class="char-style-override-3">•	</span> “The impact of this instrument borders on the fabulous, and it is likely, if it ever should be lost, that the tale of this instrument will be for the future what the history of Orpheus is for readers today.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">67</span></li>
|
||
</ul>
|
||
<p class="Normal">He then shares five letters — “Amazing Stories”<span class="char-style-override-4">68</span> really — about the armonica, which he says illustrate “how much the impression of the armonica can be modified by particular situations.”</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-4">Letter 1</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Two men are about to have a duel over a woman. Friends persuade the antagonists to meet them in a meadow. Before the antagonists arrive, one of the friends hides in nearby bushes with his armonica. When the antagonists arrive, one friend tries to talk them out of their duel, while the other friend plays the armonica: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">He conjured them to follow this picture of tranquillity and peace — so I supported him with the full power of the armonica. Whenever he paused I would play and as soon as the sound of the armonica stopped he started begging them again. Suddenly they came running towards me — sobbing — and asked me to stop playing. I would only answer them through my beloved instrument until they were finally overwhelmed with feelings of friendship and embraced passionately. I was just about to put the armonica away — after it had been so successful — when we heard someone whispering the following words: “You went away, you lovely sound, you fill my night with pleasure. You went away!” Just then a creature dressed all in white stepped out of the bushes. It was Mrs Von W. — R. had informed her about our plan and she wanted to be a witness to this adventure. We had hired a boat so we could travel part of our journey on water, and so she accompanied us. During various talks a big cloud engulfed the moon, a sight we watched with pleasure. You are aware of how easily Mrs von W’s ideas change from the present to the future. The moon appeared again and we were guided by the long shadows of the objects surrounding us, which kept on changing their shapes, incomprehensibly, into the empire of ghosts.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">We talked about the tone and language of these supernatural creatures</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I was seated advantageously behind my instrument, had pulled the blanket back and thought that this would be the right time to play it. But as soon as I played the first few chords Mrs B. fainted, and only recovered just before we reached the dry land. I did not know that she was such a sensitive soul. But she shall never hear the armonica again without a warning in advance.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-4">Letter 2</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">The author is invited to a friend’s manor — which features “several temples, grottoes, waterfalls, labyrinths and subterranean arches” — to play the glass armonica at a ball that evening. Overcome by fatigue the author slumbers, and is awakened by a servant...</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">He suggested carrying my instrument and I was asked to follow him.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">He was in a rush but because I only followed him slowly I had the opportunity — as I was guided by curiosity — to follow the dull sounds of trombones, which seemed to be coming from the cellar. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">But imagine to my amazement when I walked (and nearly fell!) down the stairs leading to the cellar, and suddenly spotted a burial vault. I watched people putting a corpse into a coffin, and while sepulchral music was being played someone was busy bandaging a vein on the arm of a person who was all dressed in white and covered in blood. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Everyone else, apart from the health professionals, was covered in long black coats, and showed bare swords. At the entrance to the vault dead bodies were lying upon each other. The only light in the room came from candles that smelled similar to burning alcohol, and this light made the whole view look creepy and frightful. As I didn’t want to lose my guide I hurried back. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">As soon as I arrived at the garden entrance the guide stepped inside. Impatiently he grabbed my hand and pulled me along. As soon as I entered the garden I stopped with amazement. I had never seen anything as beautiful as this. All seemed to be set alight by green flames — flames coming out of lamps — the rushing of far away waterfalls — nightingales sang sweetly — there was the smell of blooming flowers everywhere — it all seemed unearthly and nature seemed to have dissolved into magic. I was shown my seat behind an arbor with a heavenly decorated interior. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Soon a person — who was unconscious — was carried into the arbor and I was given the sign to start playing. (I assumed it was the person I saw earlier in the vault, the one who got his veins bandaged. But I am not sure about this as all tradesmen wear noble robes.) I was too busy concentrating on myself that I did not really have a chance to notice what was going on.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">But I did realize that the unconscious person — after I had played the armonica for one minute — recovered and asked full of astonishment: “Where am I? The voices I can hear... to whom do they belong?” Jubilation with trumpets and bass drums — that was the answer. Everyone suddenly grabbed their swords and rushed deeper into the garden. What happened then I cannot recall.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-4">Letter 3</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">While traveling, the author arrives in a town where the residents...</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">... were famous for being very religious, and were also easy to impress. Even the name “armonica” seemed impressive to them. When I offered to play for them, the whole community gathered in church in a celebratory mood, and I followed them. The sacredness of this town and the extraordinary silence of such a big crowd of people — who were so soulful — made this whole event just beautiful.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Their expression of the impact when I showed them the armonica was new to me. No fainting, no tears, but it created merry, hopeful and smiling faces; the same hope that is created when you look across the span of your life. We parted joyfully, after they had all passed by me during the procession, looking at my instrument with silent admiration.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Some of the men accompanied us through the forest to the castle of Earl R., where we stayed the night. Some of them carried the armonica on their shoulders, and they treated it just like a sanctuary. The others guided the way by lighting up lanterns and candles in the street.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-4">Letter 4</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">While I was on my journey to P. — I got the coachman to stop at a little bridge where I saw a little girl sleeping on the other side. I decided to wake her up with my armonica.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I hid not far from the girl and played a soft melody for her. The soft and quiet tunes seemed ineffective so I decided to play a few stronger chords. Just when I was about to stop playing she suddenly opened her eyes and looked at me. She was frightened, looked around her and started to cry.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">After her first movement I stopped playing, then continued again quietly; but she started to scream, jumped up and ran away as fast as she could. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">When I managed to get out of the bushes — my hiding place — she was long gone and I was left standing there surprised.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Even now when I think back on this event I still do not understand why she was so frightened by my music.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-4">Letter 5</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">... However, I used to have a dog who could not tolerate any other tone but that of my armonica. It seemed that as long as I was playing it he was always in a comfortable mood. He sometimes went over to the armonica and sniffed it by taking deep breaths.—</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The expression of Mr. M.’s dog was however far more flamboyant and well worth observing. I would like to describe the following scene — which I was able to watch many times — as accurately as possible as it was so peculiar. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">This dog was remarkably big, gentle and lethargic. But he knew exactly at what hour I would arrive and tried everything to get into the room with me — be it through trick, flattery or violence.... When I began playing he was very alert; but after only a few seconds of me playing the armonica he would nod off and fall into a trance, unable to resist. A few times he changed his sleeping position and while doing so he tried to cover his ears from the sound of the armonica; but as soon as he lay down he was overwhelmed by sleep again. All his movements suddenly became epileptic. The dog was just like a lifeless machine, only moved by weights and ropes, just like a puppet on a string. His eyes opened up violently and you could see his eyeballs rotating quickly. The mouth started to deform with intensity which led to unnatural chewing, you could compare him to a ravenous wild dog. His paws moved swiftly as if he was running; and sometimes I noticed a silent bark.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">This scenario usually lasted for approximately half an hour. When he woke up he seemed as if he awoke from a dream, he was yawning, seemed droopy and fearful...</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Rollig concludes his article:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">It is advised not to touch the armonica if you are not in good spirits or not entirely healthy. It is no instrument to be used for just sheer amusement; it is worth much more. And if you are aware of how much it is worth then it will keep this value forever.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">You should play it only now and then — and when you do — only for a short time.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">If you consider that passion never lasts for a long time — but the armonica always tries to express the highest level of passion — you’ll find that it manages to create passionate sensations in only a short space of time. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">If you would like to try and resist the magic of the armonica you have to start early on, as it proves to be very difficult.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">You should especially avoid playing it around midnight. I have never heard it singing with more passion than during the silent night, where everything seems quiet and still. The night went by in an instant and in the morning I felt as if I had not slept at all...</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">It gives great pleasure to everyone who plays it and everybody will be captive to its irresistible charms. It can become really dangerous if you do not try to moderately escape from this well-spring of innocent pleasure...</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">If you compare the impact the tone has on the audience (with much stronger impression on the player himself) — the unique sound of these tones — with the many repeats — everybody will have to admit that playing this instrument is not an easy task.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Not only can these soft ‘airwaves’ which fill your ears have serious consequences, but also the percussion and the constant straining of the cups on the already fragile nerves of your fingers can cause illnesses which can — sometimes — even end fatally.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I can give evidence from my own experience — so I will now tell you a little about my history of illnesses which will hopefully be a warning to everyone. (An elaborated history of my illness — the beginning of it — its activity — peak-decrease — the way diet influenced it and the constant use of a cold bath — it all would be far too much detail to tell you.) A persistent tremble of the nerves, twitching of the muscles, dizziness, cramps, swelling and palsy of the limbs were usually the results whenever I played my beloved instrument too much.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The most cruel side effect of all was however, that I started to imagine things, I dreamt with my eyes open, in the middle of the day I saw creatures (people) from different centuries, in the evenings and at night I saw ghosts which seemed to move with the wind, and which created strange noises and threatened me with my downfall.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Of course I only had myself to blame for feeling so miserable — as I kept on playing my instrument day and night. I was happy whenever I played my beloved armonica. I felt so much passion — how could I have anticipated that it would make me so sick?</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">During my travels I spoke to many different doctors but no one managed to come up with a reason for my bad health. I eventually realized, when I was unable to lift my armonica, that I needed a break and that I had to stop playing for a while as I was simply too weak.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Every time I recovered quickly, usually without the help of any medicine. But every time I had played for a while I fell ill again. I eventually decided — and it was a very hard decision — to quit playing the armonica altogether.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">This was six years ago — and I have not been ill since. — (I am not allowed to play any instrument which is similar to the piano or the violoncello as this usually leads to short breath and palpitations. And this snatches away all hope of ever being able to play the armonica again.)</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I realized that my illness had been genuine, and that I had not imagined it when it failed to return after I had quit playing my armonica. It was even more convincing when I found out that the same thing had happened to Miss Davis [sic] and Organist Frick. Miss Davis had to stop playing in Wetzlar, Frick in London. I do not want to blame Frick for keeping his illness a secret. I am assuming it might have been ‘revenge’ on Germany as it seemed that many people did not care about him as an artist.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I don’t want people to think the same of me — not only Germany but the whole world should realize that the armonica is a gift to them but can make you ill if you use it too often.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I have warned many people not to play the armonica too much — artist and dilettante will read my warnings — but as soon as they play again they will forget about it.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I wish however, that this fabulous instrument would be honored to highest perfection.</p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-2">J. F. Reichardt: Freedom Fighter</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Johann Friedrich Reichardt (1752–1814) was a composer who wrote for the glass armonica.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Reichardt was born in Königsberg, East Prussia to lutenist and Stadtmusiker Johann Reichardt (1720–1780). As a child Johann Friedrich began his musical training in violin, keyboard and lute. He was a student of Timofey Belogradsky, who in turn was a student of Sylvius Leopold Weiss. When Reichardt was ten years old his father took the choir in which he sang, the “Wunderknaben,” on a concert tour in East Prussia.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">After being encouraged by the philosopher Immanuel Kant, Reichardt later studied Jurisprudence and Philosophy in his hometown and in Leipzig from 1769 to 1771. In 1771, he escaped civil service by embarking on a Sturm-und-Drang<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">69</span> tour as a virtuoso. He returned to Königsberg in 1774 and became the Kammersekretär (Chamber Secretary) in Ragnit. After Reichardt sent his opera <span class="Book-Title">Le Feste Galanti</span> as a sample piece to Frederick the Great, he was appointed to the position of the Royal Prussian Court Kapellmeister, a position previously held by Carl Graun. Two years later he withdrew from the job and married the singer, pianist and lieder (song) composer Juliane Benda, a daughter of Frantisek Benda. Their daughter Louise (1779–1826) became a noted songwriter.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Upon return from his first trip to Italy in 1783, Reichardt stopped in Vienna where he met Kaiser Joseph II and Gluck. Further musical trips to France and England did not produce the anticipated success, so he reluctantly returned to Berlin. In 1786 he developed close friendships with Goethe and Friedrich Schiller (author of the “Ode to Joy” text for Beethoven’s 9th symphony).</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Further attempts to gain new ground in Paris failed, yet he had become zealous with revolutionary ideas. After the appearance of his <span class="Book-Title">Vertrauten Briefe</span> (“Intimate Letters”) in 1792 he was released without pay from his position as Court Kapellmeister in 1794 for being sympathetic to the French Revolution. He lived first in Hamburg where he published the journal <span class="Book-Title">Frankreich</span>, but from 1794 he lived in Giebichenstein near Halle. In 1796 he was pardoned for his support of the revolution and appointed to the post of the director of the salt mine in Halle. From there he often traveled to Berlin to lead the premieres of his compositions.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Another trip to Paris in 1802 diminished his fascination with the French and French politics considerably, and he became an opponent of Napoleon. Four years later, when his manor was plundered by French troops, he fled to Danzig where he was active as a patriot and freedom fighter. Napoleon’s brother Jérôme, located in Kassel, allowed Reichardt to return and named him Theater Director in 1807. This lasted only nine months. In November 1809 he traveled to Vienna looking for success. After experiencing the music of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, he became receptive to Viennese classicism. He soon returned to Giebichenstein where he died alone from a gastric illness. His stage works were quickly forgotten after his death but his Lieder and Ballads “im Volkston” (“in folk style”) enjoyed considerable popularity throughout the 19th century.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Much of Reichardt’s reputation as a composer rests on his 1500 lieder, using texts by some 125 poets. Important among these are the settings of Goethe’s texts. Some of Reichardt’s lieder influenced Franz Schubert. Aside from his music, his work as an essayist is still well regarded.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">70</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-2">Angelica Kauffman: Renounced Music for Art</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Angelica Kauffman (1741–1807) was an accomplished armonica player but not really a virtuosa — she was a famous painter of her day who played the armonica for personal enjoyment. She’s included here largely because an image of her playing is one of the few images of anyone playing an armonica that has survived from that era.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">As a youth she excelled at both music and painting, but early on made the decision to devote herself to painting.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Angelica is pictured in a copperplate by Karl Rahl (Figure 36). It appeared 1819 as an illustration in the Viennese reproduction of <span class="Book-Title">Schriften</span> (“Writings”) of Helferich Sturz (1736–1779), originally published in 1779 in Leipzig. Angelica seems to be playing her armonica to gain inspiration — her easel stands ready for her next painting. </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Of her playing Helferich Sturz wrote: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">London, Sept. 15 1768. When [Angelica Kauffman] sings Pergolesi’s <span class="Book-Title">Stabat [Mater]</span> with her armonica, with her great yearning eyes, ‘looking gracefully around her, with slow movements,’<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">71</span> seized with worship, and then with flowing eyes follows the expression of the song <span class="char-style-override-6">— </span>it is an inspiring archetype of the holy [St.] Cecilia<span class="char-style-override-4">72</span><span class="char-style-override-4"></span></p>
|
||
<div>
|
||
<div class="frame-2">
|
||
<img class="frame-5" src="08-ArmonicaVirtuosi-web-resources/image/Kauffmann1_fmt.png" alt="Kauffmann1.psd" />
|
||
</div>
|
||
<div class="Basic-Text-Frame">
|
||
<ol>
|
||
<li class="Figure-Caption"><span class="char-style-override-3">Figure 37: </span><a id="Anchor-3" />A copperplate of Angelica Kauffman (1819) by Karl Rahl</li>
|
||
</ol>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal para-style-override-1"></p>
|
||
<p class="Heading-2">Marianne Kirchgessner: Blind Virtuosa Who Inspired Mozart</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Marianne Kirchgessner (1769–1808, Kirchgäßner) was a blind glass armonica virtuosa who inspired Mozart to compose two pieces for the instrument. She was born in Bruchsal (in Germany, near its south-west border with France) to Joseph Anton Kirchgessner and his wife Maria Theresia. The family was devoutly Catholic: Marianne, their fifth daughter, was baptized Maria Anna. Two years later another daughter arrived, Maria Gertrud Sophie, who would be her famous older sister’s constant traveling companion in Marianne’s last eight years.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">73</span> Marianne’s parents ultimately had nine children, including at least one son, to whom Marianne would ultimately pay a last fatal visit. Both parents were musical: her father was a good cellist and tenor, and her mother played piano and dulcimer.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Little Marianne, just as musically talented as her brothers and sisters, was blinded by smallpox at four years of age. (Mozart at 11 years old also contracted smallpox, and survived essentially unscathed.) Marianne’s mother had died a short time before.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">74</span> Her now doubly grieving father used all means and spared no expense to cure Marianne — without success. Marianne nevertheless persisted with her piano playing, without systematic instruction, to a point where Josef Reichsfreiherr von Beroldingen, a local official, heard her play and was so impressed that he sent her to Joseph Schmittbauer (1718–1809), the Kapellmeister at Karlsruhe, for training, particularly on the glass armonica.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Schmittbauer was not only an accomplished armonica player, but could build fine armonicas.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">75</span> Beroldingen not only referred Marianne to Schmittbauer, he also provided Marianne with an armonica, which cost at that time the extraordinarily high price of 100 speziesdukaten. (In 1742 Franz von der Trenck stood before the gates of Waldmünchen with his Hungarian army, and the city paid him a ransom of 50 speziesdukaten to spare the city.) Marianne studied armonica with Schmittbauer for 10 years with astonishing progress. By then her father (who had just retired with a very modest pension), her sponsors including the Margrave of Karlsruhe, and most of all her teacher Schmittbauer — all felt she was ready for a concert tour that might earn all of them fame and fortune.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Heinrich Bossler (1744–1812) music and newspaper publisher together with his wife Sophie took over Marianne’s ‘management’ and became her family — a business arrangement that blossomed into a lifelong friendship for the remaining 18 years of Marianne’s life and career, including the agony of caring for Marianne in her final illness and taking care of her funeral arrangements. Bossler continued to manage his publishing business while on the road with Marianne, and his main office in Spayer continued apparently unchanged.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">76</span> </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1791</span>:<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">77</span> Her almost ten-year concert tour begins in February with concerts in Heilbronn — expectations for this concert were so high that people journeyed for 4 or 5 hours to hear her.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">78</span> She played in Ludwigsburg and Stuttgart (all close to her hometown) and then traveled farther afield to Munich, Salzburg and Linz.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">A review of her Linz concert said:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The famous blind virtuosa Mademoiselle Kirchgessner gave to Linz in the theater on 24 April a concert on the improved Franklin armonica; her heavenly playing on this extraordinarily precious instrument delighted everyone with pure harmony to our ears, utterly exceeding all our expectations; because before this we heard only bare ponderous, melancholy adagios [slow pieces] with individual howling<span class="char-style-override-4">79</span> notes and no chords on the armonica. But this young blind artist treats this instrument completely differently; she plays splendid compositions, on which she can be heard, full-handed with full harmony, their subtle nuances, the tones wax and wane, her trills on the glasses are inimitable; allegros [fast pieces], which before her no artist yet dared, she plays with an unbelievable talent, full of gentle grace and feeling. She could also be heard accompanied by several instruments, which however must be played extremely quietly.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">80</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">At a mere 21 years old she was a sensation, which paved the way to Vienna where she stayed for nearly five months. Mozart heard her there and was inspired to compose two pieces for her and begin a third:</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="Book-Title char-style-override-7">Adagio and Rondo</span><span class="char-style-override-7"> (K617)</span>, a quintet for armonica, flute, oboe, viola, and cello, completed May 23, 1791. Marianne herself announced her premier performance of this “entirely new” piece in the <span class="Book-Title">Wiener Zeitung</span> (“Vienna Journal”) on August 13:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Filled with feelings of the warmest gratitude for the happy applause with which I was honored at the musical concert held by me on June 10 of this year at the I. & R. National Court Theatre, I deem it my duty to respond with all that lies in my power to the exhortation, so flattering to me, to allow myself to be heard on the armonica once more. I shall therefore, with most gracious permission already obtained from I. & R., hold another grand musical concert next week before my departure hence to Berlin, at the I. & R. K<span>ä</span>rntnertor Theatre, and play on the armonica an entirely new and surpassingly beautiful concert quintet accompanied by wind instruments, by Herr Kapellmeister Mozart, as well as new variations on the favorite duet from the Molinaria, “Nel cor piu non mi sento,” by Herr Kapellmeister Wanhal, and altogether such pleasing pieces as to persuade every connoisseur of music entirely that the armonica is the noblest of all musical instruments, exciting not sad and melancholy, but rather glad, gentle and elevated feelings. The forthcoming poster will give further details.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Marianne Kirchgessner<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">81</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Mozart’s quintet became one of the most popular pieces of her repertoire.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">82</span><span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2"> </span>(It remains one of the most popular pieces in the armonica literature.)</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">Adagio for solo armonica</span> (K356 / K617a).<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">83</span> This short little <span class="char-style-override-5">Adagio</span> allows the audience to hear the armonica by itself, and makes a nice ‘warm-up’ piece for Mozart's larger <span class="char-style-override-5">Adagio and Rondo</span>.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">A Fantasia in C (K616a)</span>, another quintet for armonica, flute, oboe, viola and cello. Alas, Mozart died on December 5, having completed only the first thirteen fragmentary bars of this piece.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">It is worth noting that Mozart had been acquainted with the armonica from his teenage youth: his first patron was Franz Mesmer, the inventor of ‘mesmerism’ (in which the armonica played a significant role as we shall see shortly). Mesmer owned a particularly large and fine armonica, was himself a capable player, and played his armonica for a then 17-year-old Mozart. Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang’s father, mentioned it in a letter to his wife:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Herr von Mesmer, at whose house we lunched on Monday, played for us on the armonica — the glass instrument of Miss Davies — and played very well. It cost him about fifty ducats and it is very beautifully made.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">84</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">A few weeks later Leopold brought up the armonica again, mentioning that Wolfgang himself tried playing Mesmer’s instrument:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Do you know that Herr von Mesmer plays Miss Davies’ armonica unusually well? He is the only person in Vienna who has learnt it and he possesses a much finer glass instrument than Miss Davies does. Wolfgang also has played upon it. If only we had one!<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">85</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Notice that Leopold says that Mesmer possesses ‘a much finer glass instrument’ than Miss Davies. Were German-made armonicas better than English made? Having seen Franklin's own instrument (and Davies’ was likely very much like it) I have trouble imagining that the Mozart <span class="char-style-override-5">Adagio and Rondo </span>could be played on it<span class="char-style-override-5">. </span>A better instrument certainly would have given Kirchgessner an enormous advantage. </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">As we have seen in the section on Marianne Davies, the Mozarts & the Davies knew each other. Mozart was certainly acquainted with her playing. Leopold writes:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">A few days ago Miss Davies arrived and rode past our house in the mail coach. I recognized her and she recognized us, for we happened to be standing on the balcony. A few hours later I went to call on her at the ‘Three Kings’, which is not very far, as I guessed that she would be staying there since it is the most respectable inn. She, her sister, father and mother had inexpressible joy. I told their servant where Herr Hasse was staying and very soon his daughter appeared, who also was beside herself with joy, for they have been most cordial friends since they met in Vienna. They all immediately asked for you and they send you their greetings. You will surely remember Miss Davies with her glass organ [Gla<span>ß</span>-orgl]?<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">86</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Nevertheless, it wasn’t until almost two decades later that a now 35-year-old Mozart was inspired to compose for the armonica. Apparently his friend Marianne Davies didn’t inspire him to compose for the armonica. His wealthy patron Mesmer with the checkbook and an armonica apparently didn’t inspire him either. But Kirchgessner certainly did!</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Altogether Kirchgessner played in Vienna three times that year: June 10 in the Castle Theater, on August 19 in the K<span>ä</span>rntnertor Theater, and on September 8 in the Jahn Hall in the Himmelpfortgasse. For their concert in the K<span>ä</span>rntnertor Theater, which originally already should have taken place on 13 June, Mozart wrote “the Adagio and Rondo” (K 617).</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1792</span>: Concerts including Prague, Dresden, Leipzig, Berlin (including four command performances for the king, for which he gave her 100 Friedrichs of gold), Magdeburg, and Hamburg — which Marianne herself says included “an armonica quintet by the unforgettable Mozart, which he wrote for me just before his death in Vienna.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">87</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1793</span>: Concerts mostly close to home in Darmstadt and Bruchsal.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1794</span>: On her way to London she gave a private performance for Christian G. Neefe (1748–1798), Beethoven’s teacher, which he said “uncommonly agitated me.”<span class="char-style-override-4">88</span> Marianne arrived in London in March. Salomon was producing a highly successful concert series for Haydn, and Marianne performed in the sixth and ninth of those concerts — also in March. Here’s the program of the sixth concert (which also lists the performer’s names), published in the <span class="Book-Title">Morning Chronicle</span>, March 15, 1794:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Part I:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Ouverture, Piehl;<br />Song, Mr. Florio;<br />Concerto Violoncello, Mr. Damen, jun.<br />Aria, Madame Mara;<br />Terzetto, Madame Mara, Mr. Florio, and Mr. Fischer.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Part II:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Grand Overture (M.S.) Haydn;<br />Aria, Mr. Fischer;<br />Quintetto on the Harmonica, Mademoiselle Kirashgessner[sic],<br />	(being her first appearance in this Ceuntry [sic],<br />Cavatina, Madame Mara.<br />Finale<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">89</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Being a concert promoting Haydn’s music, it’s unclear if the quintet Marianne played was the one Mozart wrote for her or if Haydn himself wrote another.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">A 1794 review of the concert had this to say:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The only novelty of the evening worth mentioning was the performance of Mademoiselle Kirch Gessner [sic] on the Harmonica. Her taste is chastened, and the dulcet notes of the instrument would be delightful indeed, were they more powerful and articulate; but that we believe the most perfect execution cannot make them. In a smaller room, and an audience less numerous, the effect must be enchanting. Though the accompaniments were kept very much under, they were still occasionally too loud.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">90</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Notice that the main complaint is that they could barely hear her. </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Another review said: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Mademoiselle Kirashgessner [sic] performed upon an instrument little known — the Harmonica. It is a conic barrel of glass, which she touches with a truth and feeling so soft, so persuasive, that — ‘melancholy marks it for her own.’<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">91</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">(Considering that England had recently lost the American Revolution, it is understandable that neither review mentioned that Marianne’s instrument was invented by the infamous traitor Benjamin Franklin!) </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">She performed again at Salomon’s ninth concert on April 7:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Part I</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">New Overture (M.S.) Reichards [J.F.Reichardt],<br />Aria, Mr. Fischer;<br />Concertante for Clarinet and Bassoon, Messr. Hartman and Parkinson.<br />Scena, Madame Mara.<br />Sonata on the harmonica, M. Kirchgessner</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Part II.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The New Grand Overture, (M.S.) Haydn, which was performed last Monday.<br />Cavatina, Mr. Fischer;<br />Concerto, Violin, Signor Viotti.<br />Rondo, Madame Mara.<br />Finale</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">(<span class="Book-Title">Morning Chronicle</span>, April 5, 1794)<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">92</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">At least by this concert they spelled her name correctly! The sonata she played was presumably composed by Haydn — alas it has not survived. Being blind, new music was played for her on the piano which she then ‘played by ear’ from memory! Unfortunately this may have resulted in fewer copies being made. A Braille-like system for notating music had been invented for the blind pianist Maria Theresia Paradis — a contemporary of Kirchgessner — but she never adopted it.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">93</span> (We shall meet Paradis in connection with Franz Mesmer a little later on.)</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In 1794 Fr<span>ö</span>schle (a native-born German living in London) made her a new instrument which she used from then onwards. This instrument (and Marianne) were reviewed in October 1795:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">The famous virtuosa on that heavenly instrument, the armonica, Miss Kirchgessner, will leave England at the earliest opportunity, and, with a reputation which follows her, to pursue her destiny through Hamburg. She has, according to information from Mr. Rath Bossler, a completely new armonica by Mr. Fröschle (one of the first mechanics of London, which if I may say so, is in truth first in his craft) leaving behind all well-known instruments by far, and with good reason it deserves to be called the most perfect musical instrument. Mr. Rath B. looked for the most simple, flexible resonator he could attach, whereby the armonica, especially in the bass, has an uncommon strength so that now the soul — elevating effect of the deep tones affects each listener unbelievably with true charm. With this improvement the instrument, which has a reputation of being gentle, noble in tone — and the delicacy of the inimitable performance of Miss Kirchgessner still makes abundantly clear its excellent tone — is all the more full and free. Also, in building this splendid instrument, which is worked and inlaid in the most tasteful mahogany, Mr. Fröschle has given us a true masterpiece, which truly makes many an honor for him. We congratulate all connoisseurs of music who have the opportunity to hear this precious and unique instrument under the inspiring fingers of Miss Kirchgessner.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">94</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">While she was in London Dr. Fiedler prescribed eye-drops which improved her vision to the point where she could vaguely distinguish shapes and colors.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">95</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1795</span>: Two two-hour concerts a day (!!) under the patronage of the Duchess of York. Here is the announcement in the (London) <span class="Book-Title">Times</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">(May 8, 1795):</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Under the Patronage of Her Royal Highness The Duchess of York. Miss Kirchgessner’s Performance on the Grand Harmonica, No. 57, Polandstreet, Soho, every day from 1 till 3, and from 7 till 9 o’clock. Admittance 5s. Each person. — Miss Kirchgessner respectfully begs leave to acquaint the Nobility, Gentry, and her friends, that she means to discontinue her performance on the above instrument after the 14th inst[sic]. She entertains the most flattering hopes that those amateurs, who are sensible of the superiority which this instrument so decidedly maintains above all others, it being so happily calculated to convey to the heart the most heavenly sensations, will within this short period manifest the encouragement which they very kindly conceive the abilities of Miss K. deserve, and that patronage of which she has had the honour of receiving already the most agreeable marks.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">96</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">These earned Kirchgessner a small fortune. (At this time solo concerts were not yet common).<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">97</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1796</span>: In November Marianne left London for Hamburg, where she gave concerts in November and December.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1797</span>: Went to Copenhagen, where she gave a concert in May for the Danish king. Performed in Königsberg and began her journey to St. Petersburg — a daunting undertaking given road and travel conditions in those days.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1798</span>: Stayed in Petersburg to mid-year. Concerts in Königsberg in November.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1799</span>: Concerts in Thorn, Posen, followed by presentations in Schleits, Lausitz and Saxonia</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1800</span>: By this point a long list of the eminent composers of her day had composed for her: Clementi, Fasch, Haydn, Hoffmeister, Mozart, Naumann, Salieri, Reichardt and Vanhall — and she knew them all personally. Bossler bought a country home in Gohlis (a suburb just north of Leipzig) for Marianne and the Bosslers (3700 thalers cash, 2000 thalers in a mortgage) which included meadows, two horses, six dairy cows, sheep, seeds and agricultural equipment.<span class="char-style-override-4">98</span> Her almost decade-long concert tour is over — only concerts in relatively close cities from now on, and only in fall and winter — spring and summer were spent at Gohlis.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">99</span> Marianne is now 31 years old.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1801</span>: Concerts in Hanover and Frankfurt. In this year H. Jung wrote: “This modest and virtuous person is easily the greatest master of the heavenly instrument, the English glass armonica.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">100</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1802</span>: Concerts in Stuttgart. According to Pohl, the composer Johann Zumststeeg (1760–1802) personally directed her concert in Stuttgart and very much admired her playing. Alas, shortly after the concert, a “vehement attack of cramp in the chest” ended Zumsteeg's life. This left his mournful family only with debts, and Kirchgessner gave a concert for their benefit.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">101</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1803</span>: Predominantly at home in Gohlis</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1804</span>: Concert in Leipzig</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1805</span>: Concerts in Berlin and Breslau</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1806</span>: Vienna. Concerts in the Redoutensaale to a full house, as well as other performances, all made precarious by the French occupation of Vienna. The war thwarted her plans to tour Italy.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">102</span> In October, at her home in Goelis she had the misfortune to be mistreated by Napolean’s soldiers, fresh from their victories at Jena, which “weakened her constitution and from which she never fully recovered.”<span class="char-style-override-4">103</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1807</span>: Predominantly at home in Gohlis</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal"><span class="char-style-override-7">1808</span>: Concert in Prague. Goethe visited Kirchgessner, as noted in his diary entries for June 29: “At 4 o’clock with Ziegesars to Miss Kirchgessner, who played some on the armonica,” and for July 28, noting of their visit simply “Kirchgessner.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">104</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">She gave concerts in Stuttgart in November at the König von England hotel. “The hall, the gallery and the adjoining rooms hardly contained the quantity of listeners.”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">105</span> The program included singers and orchestra:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">First Part</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Overture by Cherubini<br />Ballade by Zumsteeg for armonica and voice<br />Large solo for armonica, accompanied by orchestra by A. Reicha<br />Air by Danzi, sung by Miss Long</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Second Part</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Symphony by Haydn<br />Air by Salieri, sung by Mrs. Graf<br />Solo Sonata for Armonica<br />“Johanna’s Farewell”, a melodramatic monolog from the romantic tragedy The Virgin of Orleans, by Mr. Von Schiller; narration by Mrs. Gehlhaar, with armonica and orchestra.<br />Music by A. Reicha.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">106</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">The performance — which turned out to be nearly her last — received the following poetic description on November 23, 1808:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">What wonderful ringing,<br />Festive, with lofty singing!<br />What full harmony!<br />I float, losing my earthly<br />Shell, already to the nether<br />Regions where the Good abide forever?<br />How have I earned, O pious one,<br />Your heavenly welcome?<br />Ha, a strange sunshine radiates from me!<br />Never have I felt such godly<br />Bliss flow over me. I hear<br />Eden’s clarity, a joyous choir,<br />Sounds of Hallelujah ring.<br />The Sons of Light give me well-being!<br />Brothers, lead me to the Nameless<br />One so I can cry Thankfulness,<br />Pray praises, sing praises!<br />Ah, the sounds harmonious —<br />They sound — what sweet reverie!<br />Yet still here below must I tarry;<br />After all it is heaven’s, and mine the feeling.<br />Thanks be to your magic playing,<br />Muse of the armonica!<br />A younger Saint Cecilia!<br />O you sounds of the spirit are gradually<br />Over everywhere, which is holy,<br />And a human a cherub is.<br />Even would an atheist<br />Call faith from the depths of his heart:<br />God! Immortality! Thou Art!<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">107</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Sadly, in a lengthy article for the <span class="Book-Title">Allgemeine Musicalische Zeitung</span> (“General Musical Journal”) May 10, 1809, “Mariane Kirchgessner – the last days of her life,”<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">108</span> Bossler recollects her final days. Now 39 years old, she had just performed in Stuttgart and was determined to see her brother in nearby Odenheim, with whom she had not had contact for seven years. The roads between Stuttgart and Odenheim were less than optimal, particularly in winter. Her manager Bossler wrote: </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I had traveled the most of Europe with our dear Marianne, and we came across many dangerous and bad passes and roads in the past; we never overthrew the vehicle and nothing has ever happened to her, but every time we mentioned narrow passes she was afraid. And I always felt sorry for her whenever we had to pass these narrow roads. Although she was barely able to see her surroundings, as she had sadly lost her eyesight, she always imagined the worst scenario; and although we used to try to convince her that the danger was over, it did not help. So imagine how fearful she was on this journey! </p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Poor roads in winter proved an insufficient impediment: the reunion was accomplished, and as Bossler says:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Thursday, November 24th the loving sister and brother said good-bye — only too soon to find themselves again in a better life!</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">On the return trip there were problems with her coach; she was exposed to too much cold and contracted a severe respiratory ailment (pneumonia?). Her condition waxed and waned for about a week:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Her sister and I believed that she might be suffering from a cold again; she was given painkillers. But all through the night she was agitated and her temperature rose more and more, so on Monday morning we sent for the doctor. Dr. Stockar came to see her, and he also believed that she was suffering from a cold. I was slightly relieved by the diagnosis, however I and her sister were worried about our friend being so half-hearted about the whole situation. In the afternoon the doctor came back and gave us all hope; but the fever continued and she had a very disturbed night from Monday to Tuesday.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">She felt slightly better on the Tuesday although towards the evening she complained about pains in her abdomen. Surprisingly her temperature rose so much that she started to rave. I sent for the doctor during the night and begged him to tell me the truth about her condition. He explained that he was really worried about her illness.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">We tried everything possible to rescue our dear ill patient. With Dr. Stockar’s permission we also consulted Dr. Wepfer. Both doctors had a long talk and tried everything possible to keep her alive.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">Both doctors stayed beside our ill patient all day long; however the illness deteriorated and was still going strong by Wednesday and Thursday night, and she raved even more.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Alas, her manager and friend Bossler finally wrote:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">On Friday December 9th at approximately 10am we saw that death was near. All my hopes faded away and so did my consciousness. I was destroyed at the thought of losing her, I loved her like a father. After all, she was my traveling companion for the past eighteen years, and we shared many happy and also sad moments.</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">She was heartbroken whenever she failed to please people. Her fingers — which once created such heavenly music and lifted so many thousands of people into higher regions — turned stiff — all has been robbed by death!</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">And later Bossler records:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">At around four pm the same day Padre Laeuble, confessor at the convent Paradies (which is situated approximately half an hour from Schaffenhausen in Thurgau) came to see us to pray once again with my dying friend. And before she passed away she said a few times clearly: Beautiful! Very beautiful! And she also said Brother *) and Therese **) in a weak voice. </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">*) Our dying Kirchgessner could not know what we found out in Karlsruhe, eight days later, on the 27th of December, on our journey back from Switzerland: her brother, whom she loved so much, had passed away on the 6th of December, three days before her own death. He died from the same illness as our dear friend! It seemed as if — those who have loved each other so much and had never been apart — paid for their trust in each other by dying together! </p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">**) Therese was the name of her older sister who died in Mannheim in 1804.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">In the same obituary, Bossler records Professor Appenzeller who wrote to Professor Mueller the day after Kirchgessner’s death:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">I can still feel a shiver down my spine when I think back on the news you gave me regarding our dear Kirchgessner! Perhaps she is with the Lord by now — the only fatherland full of harmony. Her soul will be celebrating; her glance will now welcome the light which has always shone in her inner world. Untroubled harmony now rings in her breast — the spirit of her dreams has now disappeared and she will now have resolved the ‘mystery of existence’.</p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Bossler wrote the newspaper announcement of her death (December 29, 1808):</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">With indescribable sadness I must announce to you the death of my dear Kirchgessner, in Schaffhausen on December 9. In the evening at about 9:30 she passed over to eternity. She is in the earth there, she whose soulful playing charmed so many thousands. Her earthly remains lay in Paradies, a convent, whence the worthy nobles of Schaffhauser in mourning dresses, and myself, in more than 20 coaches, accompanied her to her grave. In all of Schaffhausen neither wagon nor horse were to be had, and many of the first families accompanied us in the terribly cold weather on foot to her final resting place. Miss Stockar and fourteen of the noblest daughters of this city, together with the whole music college with their president in the lead, drove in seven coaches to the convent in order to give to this artist their respects, as in life, so also in death, and in the convent church to give a Castrum Doloris [a traditional decoration of flowers and candles signifying importance] and perform a Requiem. Then Miss Stockar sang a scene from the oratorio <span class="Book-Title">Lazarus</span> by Hasse with great dignity, and after a eulogy and all remaining ceremony (and at every altar a Soul’s Mass was read), the body returned to the city. The crowding was so great that the hotels had to call the police to keep peace and order. This was the day after her death — thus Saturday December 10. In Schaffhausen Professor Müller further honored the good Kirchgessner by placing an extremely precious laurel wreath in her coffin, and all, even the first women of the city, came to her viewing. In such a way died my dear good Kirchgessner, whom for 18 years I saw her art germinate, bloom, and prosper to the highest maturity, and the deadly wounds strike deep into my heart. I will go in a few days from here [Mannheim] to Leipzig, and write a complete biography of the blessed one, in which will be included a fine portrait, and a copper engraving of the Paradies convent.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">109</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">An obituary in the <span class="Book-Title">Allgemeine Musicalische Zeitung</span> (“General Musical Journal”) had this to add about Marianne:</p>
|
||
<p class="Quotation">As is well known she suffered since childhood from very weak eyesight, and since then, in various years, she was nearly completely blind. Her character was gentle resignation and acceptance of her fate, and only on occasional moments and on special inducements was it disturbed by sickly irritability.... [S]he was free from all artist moods, obliging everyone whom she could please with her talents.<span class="char-style-override-4">110</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Although Bossler wrote the obituary of Kirchgessner which we quoted above at length, he never completed the promised biography. He suffered from ill health until his own death in 1812, sponsors withdrew from the project, and there were fewer than expected subscribers.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">111</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Bossler and his wife lived in the country home in Gohlis until 1810 when they sold it for 6500 thalers (they had paid 5700) and lived off the proceeds.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">112</span> Upon Bossler’s death in 1812, business and inheritance issues with their children left his wife Sophie in modest conditions, and she died in 1823.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">113</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">Apparently Kirchgessner never had students or composed music herself.<span class="Endnote-Reference char-style-override-2">114</span></p>
|
||
<p class="Normal">She had two armonicas: the one Schmittbauer made for her as a child, and the one that Fröschle made for her in London. I have been unable to determine the fate of either instrument.</p>
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