CHAPTER XIX

Handel and Gluck—Pathmakers

GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL—MASTER OF ORATORIO (1685–1759)

In the last chapter we saw Bach rescue music from the danger of emptiness and frivolity, by perfecting polyphonic music and dignifying church music as it had not been since Palestrina.

Bach and Handel were alike in that they were both born in Germany when music, especially opera, had become mechanical and full of set rules. They were both Lutherans and Thuringians. They worked about the same time, and tried to encourage the hearts and minds of their country, torn by the Thirty Years’ War; both were polyphonic masters; both organists. Bach attached himself to Frederick the Great, the protector of the faith, and Handel went to England, where there was liberty of thought; and both, died blind and of apoplexy.

The differences, with so many similarities, are most interesting. Bach, modest, retiring, was always a German subject; Handel became an English subject. Bach was a homebody with twenty children; Handel was a traveler and never married. Bach wanted only to satisfy himself; Handel, to satisfy the public. Bach was humble, Handel arrogant. Bach seldom fought for his rights, while Handel would dismiss even his masters. Bach cared little for applause, but Handel could not live without it. Bach was devoted to the lyric, Handel to the epic. Handel is usually (not always) heroic, Bach is usually religious (not always, of course). Handel is popular, easy to understand; Bach is deep, coming from the soul, and it takes more thought than the crowd is always willing to give to appreciate this giant.

Handel achieved great worldly success, and treated nobles as equals. Poor Bach worked contentedly in an humble position and struggled for money and profited by “bad air.” (See page 248.)

Bach demanded faith and love of art, Handel demanded ready ears. Bach never intended to make music, he only wanted to express his devotion in the best medium he had; Handel wanted fame and riches and the approval of the crowd. Handel died rich and Bach died poor.

George Frederick Handel (1685–1759) who wrote the immortal oratorio _Messiah_, and one of the greatest opera composers of his time, was born in Halle, Saxony. His father was a barber, but managed to get the title “Chamberlain to the Prince of Saxe-Magdeburg.”

Handel’s father wished him to study law, but George Frederick did not like the idea and besides he showed great musical gifts. One day when he was a little boy, he found hidden in the attic, a clavichord upon which he secretly played every chance he had.

Not long after this “find,” something most important happened. His father was going to Weissenfels to the Duke’s castle and had no intention of taking George Frederick with him. So, Father Handel seated himself in the coach, taking things comfortably, when he spied little George Frederick dashing along by the great wheels. He paid no attention to him, but after going a mile and realizing that the little boy was still following, he called out “What do you want?” “I want to go with you,” answered Handel, and although his father was quite annoyed, George Frederick’s will, as always, prevailed and he went with his father! At the court the Duke saw, very quickly, how gifted the little Handel was. His father relented and on his return to Halle, George Frederick was given instruction on the organ, harpsichord and in composition with Zachau, and taught himself the oboe and violin, greedily mastering all the music he could find.

Although he studied music he seems to have respected his father’s wishes and studied law and even after his father died in 1697, he continued, but later gave it up for music. At seventeen he entered the University, and studied, besides music, the literary classics which were of great use to him later.

On leaving the University he went to Hamburg, the musical center of Germany, where he heard Keiser’s works and received good advice from Johann Mattheson, the composer, tenor and conductor, who later engaged George Frederick in a duel.

The quarrel came about in this way: Handel was to lead Mattheson’s opera, _Cleopatra_, in order to relieve Mattheson, who sang the part of Antonio. After Antonio was “killed,” Mattheson being free to lead, entered the orchestra pit to take Handel’s place as leader. Handel was infuriated. They met later and fought a duel in which Handel was saved by a large metal button which snapped Mattheson’s rapier! What a little thing a button is and what it did for music!

Handel’s first four operas were written here for the Hamburg stage. But _Almira_ (1705) is the only one ever heard now.

HANDEL IN ITALY

Next he visited Florence, Rome and Venice during which time he had the happiest three years of his life. He composed a cantata, an oratorio and other works; he learned much of melody and sweet flowing music, which softened his dry, stiff use of German counterpoint, and he gathered material for his later London work.

An amusing story is told of him in Venice. There was a carnival going on and Handel went to it. At one of the costume balls, he sat down to a harpsichord uninvited and began improvising, thinking that no one would know him. A gorgeously garbed figure dashed through the crowd to his side, and almost overcome by the music, gasped, “This is either the Devil or the Saxon.” (Handel was called “The dear Saxon”—“_Il cáro Sarsone_” in Italy.) It was Domenico Scarlatti’s first meeting with Handel, and forever after they remained warm friends.

In Vienna he met Steffani (Chapel Master) who persuaded him to go to Hanover and after a short time, the Elector, who became George I of England, appointed him Chapel Master and gave him permission to go to England for a visit before taking up his new work.

This visit was the turning point in Handel’s career, for later he became an English subject and he—but we must not get ahead of our story!

HANDEL IN ENGLAND

Handel went to England about fifteen years after the death of Purcell, “The Orpheus of England.” Handel was quick to see Purcell’s good points and modelled his first English work to celebrate the Peace of Utrecht, on Purcell’s _Te Deum_.

After arriving in London he wrote _Rinaldo_ with an Italian libretto in fourteen days! He was the speed maniac of the 17th and 18th centuries. His librettist said of him, “Mr. Handel barely allowed me time to compose my verses.” Later he arranged _Rinaldo_ for harpsichord and all England played it, especially the lovely aria _Lascia ch’io Piango_ (Let Me Weep).

Yet Handel doesn’t seem to have made money out of _Rinaldo_, which brought the publisher, Walsh, $10,000, about which Handel said, “My dear fellow, the next time you shall compose the opera and I will publish it.” (_History of Music_, by Paul Landormy.)

Later, he became the guest of the Duke of Chandos, at whose house he wrote at least sixteen compositions.

King George had been very angry with Handel for leaving Hanover and remaining in England, but forgave him later, and Handel was made Director of the Royal Academy of Music which the King founded in 1719. Among Handel’s duties were the getting of the artists for the operas. This meant much to him and allowed him to travel all over Europe. He composed operas almost as people wrote their letters, for in eight years he produced eleven successful operas! Think of that for work!

HANDEL AND HIS RIVALS

But—he had a rival, Battista Buononcini, protégé of the mighty Duke of Marlborough, and a musical war raged in London. John Byrom, a humorist of the day wrote:

Some say, as compared to Buononcini That Mynheer Handel’s but a ninny Others aver that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle. Strange all this difference should be ’Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee.

Handel won, however, and Buononcini left England. In 1729, another opera venture was started, an Italian opera society, of which Handel was made the Director. Off he went to Dresden and brought back Senesino, a tenor, and other famous singers. But Handel did not get along well with his singers and subordinates. He was too high-handed and because of his quarrels the opera was given up! On one occasion he dragged the singer, Cuzzoni, to the window and threatened to throw her out if she did not sing the way he wished. Various other reasons were given too,—one, the dispute between Cuzzoni, who was called the “Golden Lyre” and another soprano, Faustina, the wife of Hasse, a rival conductor. Colley Cibber, a critic of the time said: “These costly canary birds contaminate the whole music loving public with their virulent bickerings. Cæsar and Pompey did not excite the Romans to more violent partisanship than these contentious women.”

And now we see Handel bankrupt and superseded in another theatre by his two rivals, Porpora and then Hasse (1699–1783) of Hamburg. However, they too were unsuccessful.

On went Handel, writing operas and oratorios and conducting at special functions. His health snapped, but his will was so powerful that this forceful man recovered, and presented two more operas, which were not successful. In spite of all his failures and lack of tact, he had faithful friends who arranged a successful benefit concert in 1738 for him. At about the same time a statue was erected in Vauxhall Gardens, an honor never before paid to a living composer!

He composed, while writing for the stage all these years, twelve sonatas for violin or flute with figured bass, thirteen sonatas for two violins, oboes or flutes and bass, six _concerti grossi_, twenty organ concertos and twelve concertos for strings, many suites, fantasies and fugues for harpsichord and organ. It is difficult to understand how one brain could do all this!

HANDEL FORSAKES OPERA

After his ill success with the Italian Opera House, he gave up writing operas and devoted himself to oratorios. In thirteen years (1739–1752) he wrote nineteen. Among these are _Saul_ in which is the famous “Dead March,” _Joseph_, and many other important ones, but towering over all _The Messiah_, and _Heracles_, which Romain Roland says is “one of the artistic summits of the 18th century.”

They are not all oratorios, for _Heracles_ and several others are not religious in subject, but are dramatic epics.

Handel’s sight failed him, but even this did not stop his torrential activity to his death in 1759.

He had become an English subject, so was buried with pomp at Westminster Abbey.

He was loved even though he was fiery of temper, and had a will that no one could conquer.

His music is full of his gusts of feeling but always correct and his art perfect. In his work he always held himself under great control and it mirrors his power and balance. He loved wind instruments and people often considered his music noisy!

He wrote forty-two operas, two passions, ninety-four cantatas, ten pasticcios, serenatas, songs and the instrumental works mentioned above. The famous Handel _Largo_ comes from one of his operas, _Xerxes_, and was an aria _Ombra mai fu_ (Never was there a Shadow).

Handel used counterpoint, but always knew when to unbend and use delightful flowing melody, so he became popular.

Other men, Hasse, Telemann and Graun, contemporaries of Handel, followed the popular Italian models but without Handel’s genius for melody and sublimity, and were never heard of after their own generation had passed away.

Handel’s _Messiah_, which he wrote in twenty-four days, was first given in Dublin. It took the people by storm and when the king heard it, thrilled by the “Hallelujah Chorus,” he rose to his feet, and since then it is the custom to stand during that number. It has become the Christmas Oratorio and is sung in churches and societies all over the world. It has lost none of its first popularity among the people and is loved as few works have ever been. It thrills because it is sincere, big, and arouses religious feeling. Oratorio was his special gift to the world and one never hears the name of Handel without thinking of _The Messiah_.

Handel seemed to reunite the forms: oratorio and opera, under his massive will. At first some of his oratorios were given in costume, showing the influence of opera.

Handel had many enemies in England, but he also had friends. Although imperious, he had a sweet side, and made friends with humble folk who loved music, even though he hobnobbed with royalty. Thomas Britton, a coal heaver, his friend, is sketched by an artist of the day in a picture where Handel is playing _The Harmonious Blacksmith_ to Alexander Pope, the Duchess of Queensbury, Colley Cibber and other famous folk. Yet he stormed at everyone and even royalty “quaked in their boots” and were forced to behave themselves at rehearsals and concerts which Handel directed.

Accused of using someone’s melody, he answered, “That pig couldn’t use such a melody as well as I could!” He helped himself to so many that he was called the “Great Plagiarist.”

His latter life was spent quietly, with a few intimate friends, drinking his beer and smoking his beloved pipe. He was always generous and as he grew older seemed to become kindlier and softer. He contributed largely to the Foundling Asylum and even played the organ there.

He wanted to die on Good Friday, “in hopes,” he said, “of meeting his good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour on the day of his resurrection,” and on Good Friday, April 6th, 1759, he died.

CHRISTOPH WILLIBALD GLUCK—FATHER OF MODERN OPERA 1714–1787

Now we come to the next genius, Christoph Gluck (1714–1787) born when George Frederick Handel was twenty-nine years old. He also attacked the frivolous drift of his time, but in another field from Handel and Bach, and gave the fashionable, aimless Italian opera its death blow for all time.

Gluck’s life is different from Handel, Bach, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven as you will see later when you have read about all of these. For, until he was almost forty years old, Gluck did nothing to make him great, whereas these other men showed from their earliest years that they were unusual.

Gluck belongs to two periods for his life bridges Bach’s and Haydn’s. You will see how he first belonged to the frivolous fashion-loving composers like Hasse, Jomelli and Piccinni, and how later he blossomed into the great renewer and constructor of opera and escapes into a class of his own! His is the most remarkable instance of a man who starts with an ordinary talent, and later in life grasps a vision that never came to him in his early youth and which was not caught by others in his day.

Furthermore he was able to carry his point and not merely see the vision and let it go by. But first let us see how his life unfolded, for a man’s life helps us to understand his works.

Christoph Willibald Gluck, born July 2nd, 1714, at Weidenwang, near Nüremberg, was the son of a gamekeeper, who moved from estate to estate in the service of princes and nobles, and at the time of Christoph’s birth, was ranger to Eugene, Prince of Savoy. So, this little boy destined to become the great Chevalier von Gluck, was a child of the people even as was Haydn and others.

GLUCK STARTS TRAVELING

When he was three years old he was taken to Bohemia, (now Czecho-Slovakia), for his father entered the service of Prince Lobkowitz, a great music lover, of whom you will hear again. His parents were quite poor, yet it is remarkable that above everything else they gave Christoph a good education and at twelve he went to a Jesuit school near Eisenberg, the home of Prince Lobkowitz.

Here he learned to sing and to play the organ, the violin, the ’cello and the clavier. He was diligent and became most proficient and was loved and admired by the school fathers. But little did they dream that some day he was to write classic operas, based not on Christian stories but the pagan dramas of the Greeks!

When nearly nineteen, he left the seminary and said good-bye to the Church of St. Ignatius and went to Prague. To support himself and to carry on his scientific and musical studies he gave lessons, played for rustic festivals and earned money the best way he could, until Prince Lobkowitz became interested in him and introduced him to the musical circle at court. Here he met Count Melzi who took him to Milan, where he was taught by Giovanni Battista Sammartini, a celebrated organist and teacher of counterpoint. After four years of study he completed his musical education.

In Milan, he wrote his first opera, _Artaserse_ which was performed in 1741. Metastasio, the popular librettist, wrote the words to _Artaserse_, as he did for many of Gluck’s works written in the loose style of the Italian opera. He was now twenty-eight and in the five years spent here, he composed eight operas, through which he gained great popularity. But not yet had it come to him to revolutionize opera; he simply used the old pattern which was really nothing but groups of songs, recitatives and choruses having very little connection except to give the performers the chance to do musical feats to amaze the audience with their skill. The story of these operas, meagre as it was, stopped short, for some long and elaborate cadenza, and then it went on again with no thought of the meaning of the drama but rather to tickle the taste of the audience and the performer. The orchestra, too, was a step-child, for no one cared where it came in as long as it was politely subdued, keeping the singers on the key, and doing its best to be heard only when bidden. So, Gluck followed these ideas in the beginning and perhaps it was better that he did, otherwise he might never have realized how far opera had strayed from the ideals of Monteverde.

Having eight operas to his credit, he began to get commissions from other cities and countries, and next accepted an invitation, in 1745, to go to London as composer of opera at the Haymarket Theatre. In 1746 he wrote _La Caduta de Giganti_ (The Fall of the Giants), with no doubt a libretto of Metastasio’s, then he gave his _Artamene_ and was assisted in their production by Handel, who is supposed to have treated the works with contempt. He is said to have exclaimed, “Even my shoe-black can write better counterpoint than Gluck.” But we must remember that Gluck had not yet become the _great_ Gluck. His visit to England was fruitful, for Gluck heard and digested the great oratorios of Handel, and realized that the voice and orchestra might be handled the same way in opera. No doubt his mission was beginning to dawn on him; it came, not as a great revelation, but gradually.

HE MAKES SUCCESS OF FAILURE

Another thing that gave him a push forward and shows how great people can make a success of failure: he was asked to write a _pasticcio_ (Italian word meaning a meat-pie), or a string of melodies, very fashionable in his day. He strung together his best airs from his Italian operas, and called it _Pyramus and Thisbe_, but it was a dismal failure. “Ah, ha!” he must have thought, “why shouldn’t this musical drivel fail, for it is naught but trash, and with nothing that is needed to make a good literary drama.” So this was one of the experiences that led him to reform opera, making the words fit the music and not stopping a performance, so that a popular soloist could sing a meaningless trill and then start again with the other part of the word,—the way that opera was being written at that time.

After his London ups and downs he went to Paris and heard the operas of Rameau. He realized now the value of musical declamation and recitative to the meaning and action of opera if used with thought, and he was not slow in taking suggestions.

Gluck was probably the most all round man of his day, for he knew literature and science as did few musicians. He knew all the influential people in the arts, sciences, and music in London, Hamburg, Dresden and Vienna, and his home was a center of learned and delightful people. When in Vienna but a short time, he was commissioned to write an opera and he produced, with success, _La Semiramide_, after which he went to Copenhagen. His next opera _Telemacco_ in which he began to work out his new ideas was well received, in Rome and Naples.

In 1750 after many disappointments, he was married to a lady he had long adored. They lived happily together, for Marriane Pergin not only brought him money which was a great joy, but was always his devoted and understanding help-mate. She was an accomplished woman, and a companion that many might envy. But, sad to say, they had no children, so they adopted a niece of Christoph’s, a lovely little girl with great musical talent. The three lived lovingly together until the poor little child sickened and died, making the Glucks most unhappy, for they adored her, as is often the case, even more than if she had been their own child.

In 1751 Gluck journeyed to Naples. Didn’t he travel a lot in the days of the stage coach and brigands! In the same year he became conductor to Prince Frederick at Vienna and in 1754 was officially attached to the opera, and Maria Theresa made him court chapel master.

Soon after, the Pope, pleased with what he had done in Rome, made him Chevalier of the Golden Spur and from that time he always styled himself Ritter (Chevalier) von Gluck.

In _Il re pastore_ (The Shepherd King), we see the dawning of Gluck’s best period of writing (1756). The overture is better music than he had written before, and from this time on, Gluck became the genius in the opera world for which he is known. From 1756 to 1760 he lived apart from the world studying and after this he began to broadcast his ideas in writing and composing.

When the Archduke Joseph of Austria, afterwards the Emperor, married Isabella of Bourbon, Gluck wrote _Tetede_ which was performed with great pomp. After this he wrote the ballet _Don Giovanni_, or _The Libertine_, particularly interesting, for it certainly gave Mozart an idea for his own great work _Don Giovanni_.

Again our “wandering minstrel” moved, this time to Bologna where he conducted a new opera which, strange to say, showed not a sign of his new ideas!

“ORPHEUS AND EURIDICE” IS BORN

Soon he met Calzabigi, another librettist, with whom he wrote his first epoch-making opera _Orpheus and Euridice_. Although in some parts it is written like the older operas, he used many of his new ideas. The public at first were bewildered but they liked it. The next opera written with his new librettist was _Alceste_, so different was it, and so full of his best thought that the public did not like it. The pleasure-loving people went to be amused and heard music almost as serious as oratorio. It was austere, and its climax was not satisfactory. Yet it and _Orpheus and Euridice_ mark the birth of music drama which Mozart and Wagner developed further.

In _Orpheus and Euridice_ the chorus was an important part of the drama as it had been in the old Greek drama from which Gluck took many of his stories; and was not something dragged in to fill up space. Instead, too, of the over-embroidered arias they were simple and expressive, and the characters were real living beings, instead of figures on which to drape showy melodies. Naturally, the composers were jealous of him and went so far as to say that the principal singer had written _Orpheus and Euridice_.

Gluck said of his _Alceste_: “I seek to put music to its true purpose; that is, to support the poem, and thus to strengthen the expression of the feelings and the interest of the situation without interrupting the action.... In short, I have striven to abolish all those bad habits which sound reasoning and true taste have been struggling against now for so long in vain.” He abolished the unnecessary cadenza, a fancy, trilly part composed by the soloist himself and used just before the close of a piece. You will see in a later chapter how Beethoven dealt with it.

Happily Gluck and Calzabigi still continued working together and in 1770 he wrote _Paride and Elena_ (Paris and Helen) which proved Gluck to be a writer of beautiful romantic song.

By now Vienna and Paris were enthusiastic about him, yet he was severely criticized because he dared to write and compose differently from everyone else. The adventurer into new paths must always expect trouble from those who have not caught up with him.

TROUBLE BREWS FOR GLUCK

Now our traveler goes to Paris where he presents _Iphigenia in Aulis_. The story was taken from a play of the French dramatist Racine. Although this was the fourth work in Gluck’s new style it was not as good as the others. His enemies did their utmost to hurt him as they resented his coming into Paris to reform French opera. And as the musicians and singers were not good artists, it was almost impossible to give it well, and probably it would never have reached the stage had it not been for Marie Antoinette the French Queen who was later guillotined. She had been a real friend and pupil of Gluck, when a young princess in Vienna. Nevertheless the opera pleased its audiences, and it paid well, and Gluck was given a new court office in Vienna.

In 1776 the trouble that had been brewing with Gluck’s opponents came to a climax. Piccinni was his great Italian rival and the city of Paris was torn as to who was the better composer. All the literary men and the court were divided into factions, one for and one against Gluck. Some great men, including Jean Jacques Rousseau were Gluckists, while others of importance were Piccinnists. Never had there been so great a contention for musical glory or struggle against new ideas. It was a most extraordinary thing, but it does show that there was great musical interest or people would never have wasted so much time in argument and in writing for or against these men. Finally it came to a head, and it was decided to give them both the same libretto of _Iphigenia in Tauris_ to see who could write the better opera. Gluck completed his within the year and after nearly three years, Piccinni finished his. They were both performed and needless to say Gluck won the award and even Piccinni said himself that Gluck’s was the better. It is nice to know that after Gluck’s death, Piccinni tried to collect funds to raise a memorial as a tribute to him! So artistic rivalry need not dim admiration.

In _Iphigenia in Tauris_ again the master rises to great heights. His overture was splendid, his orchestral color was superb. He pictured the different characteristics of the various groups of people and of the individuals themselves in word and music as it never had been done before.

He wrote _Armide_ in 1777. It did not succeed although it was very lovely and dreamy and in it, he suggested the sounds of babbling brooks and the song of the nightingales.

Gluck wrote thirty operas, seven of which are in his new style: _Don Giovanni_, _Orpheus and Euridice_, _Paris and Helen_, _Alceste_, _Iphigenia in Tauris_, _Iphigenia in Aulis_ and _Armide_.

NEW PATHS

And thus this great path-breaker advanced _opera seria_ (grand opera).

The old _sinfonia_ in three movements which opened the opera, disappeared, and instead came the introduction or overture, suggesting the opera itself. He taught and wrote that composers could do anything to assist the action of the opera; he elevated the story to an important place; the characters in the plot were thought of as people and not as puppets, and they were studied individually and not as machinery only. The situations in the story governed the kind of music he used and he tried hard to make the orchestra a main part of the opera. It seems odd that nobody had thought of this before. Yet you have seen how much time had been given to the voice throughout the ages, and how long it had taken instruments to arrive at their full importance. So we see Gluck improving as he worked with a better librettist. From now the opera writer had to use thought in composition, as he would in writing a play.

A VERY CROSS CONDUCTOR!

But Gluck had trouble with the singers on account of his innovations. He was the crossest conductor of his time, would allow no one to dictate to him, and scolded the singers as they had never been scolded before.

He must have looked droll conducting, for he used to take off his wig during rehearsals, and wrap a cloth about his head to keep the draughts from fanning him! He would rage if the singers tried to do what they had been permitted to do in other operas! Some singers demanded extra pay when Gluck conducted. Sometimes he would repeat a passage twenty or thirty times and no _pianissimo_ was soft enough and no _fortissimo_ loud enough! Someone said of him while he was conducting, “He lives and dies with his heroines, he rages with Achilles, weeps with Iphigenia and in the dying scene of _Alceste_ throws himself back in his chair and becomes as a corpse.”

Otherwise he was always the kind soul who attracted everybody from Marie Antoinette down. She used to receive him in her boudoir so that they could enjoy conversation without court formalities.

One day two prima donnas refused to obey him when rehearsing _Iphigenia_, and he said: “Mesdemoiselles, I have been summoned here to Paris especially to produce _Iphigenia_. If you sing, well and good, but if not, that is your business; only I shall then seek an audience with the Queen, and inform her that the opera cannot be performed, and I shall put myself into my carriage and straightway leave for Vienna.” You may know that the ladies did their best!

In closing let us tell you what Berlioz, a master of orchestration, said of Gluck’s orchestration in _Alceste_: “Of its kind I know nothing more dramatic, nothing more terror-inspiring.” And this was said of a man who had only the simplest orchestra with which to work. After much fighting, he was the first to introduce into the orchestra the kettle-drums and cymbals, which moderns have used with grandeur.

Gluck lived to see his own success, but the Piccinni strife and the jealousies may have weakened his constitution, for he died rather suddenly in 1787, a few weeks after the first performance of Mozart’s _Don Giovanni_.

There are many memorials in Europe to Gluck, not the least being his bust which stands beside Lully and Rameau in the Grand Opera of Paris.

PUBLIC CONCERTS

It is very hard to realize that time was when there were no public concerts. Music was confined for so many centuries to the churches, to the public squares, to the King’s Chamber, or to the ball rooms of wealthy nobles, that it had not become the democratic art that it is now. Of course the first opera houses in Italy had been steps in the direction of bringing music to the people. The concerts begun by the Danish organist, Buxtehude, in Lübeck about 1673, and the _Tonkünstler-societät_ in Vienna of the same period were the first public concerts. In England, John Banister started concerts at about the same time, which were the first to admit an audience by payment of a fee. Handel’s friend, Thomas Britton, the coal-heaver, gave concerts at his home for 10 shillings the series!

The 18th century saw a great development in giving public concerts. In France, the _Concerts Spirituels_ were begun in 1725. The object of these were to give music to the people on the days of religious festivals when the opera house was closed. There were about 24 concerts a year; the political events of 1791 put an end to the society but it had already given the people a taste for concerts, and many new societies grew out of it. The festivals of Three Choirs in West England (see page 190) were founded in 1724, and the Academy of Ancient Music in 1710. The _Musikverein_ in Leipsic was founded in 1743 and was later turned into the famous _Gewandhaus_ concerts in 1781.

This movement for public concerts went hand in hand with the development of instruments and the perfecting of performers. In fact the word concert came from “_consort_—the union or _symphony_ of various instruments playing in concert to one tune.”

THE MANNHEIM SCHOOL

The symphony came to life in Germany. Paul Landormy in his _History of Music_ tells us that it was the time of the “poor scholars” who were educated free from expense in the schools with the understanding that they were to learn the “musician’s trade” and take part in the concerts organized by the cities and the courts. Thus symphony orchestras grew up all over Germany,—Munich, Stuttgart, Dresden, Darmstadt, Hamburg where Telemann conducted, in Leipsic, Berlin and Mannheim.

In Mannheim appeared the most important group of composers, known as the _Mannheim School_, and many wrote the early symphonies which led from the works of Bach to those of Haydn and Mozart. The best known of these composers are: Johann Stamitz (1717–1757), Franz Xavier Richter (1709–1789), Anton Filtz, Christian Cannabich, Ignaz Holzbauer, Ernst Eichner and Giovanni Battista Toeschi. Under the direct influence of the Mannheim School were: François Joseph Gossec (1734–1829), a Belgian living in Paris who wrote many symphonies; Luigi Boccherini (1743–1805) known as one of the first writers of chamber music in the form used by the classic writers; Giovanni Battista Sammartini (1701–1775) of Milan; the sons of Bach, Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf, and Joseph and Michael Haydn.

[Illustration:

_From the painting by J. B. Greuze, in the Louvre, Paris._

_Chevalier Christoph Willibald von Gluck._ _Father of Modern Opera._ ]

[Illustration:

_From a statue by Barrias, in the Luxembourg Gallery, Paris._

_The Boy Mozart._ ]