Status Updates From The Memoirs of Hector Berlioz

Kisne z typa xd

Berlioz addresses the "haters" at the close of his memoirs:

As for you, maniacs, morons, dogs, and bulls, and you, my Guildensterns and Rosencrantzes, my Iagos, my little Osrics, gadflies, crawling worms of every kind: farewell, my... friends. I scorn you, and hope not to die before I have forgotten you.

*drops mic*

I was beginning to wonder why there hadn't been a single mention of Chopin in nearly 500 pages until I came across Berlioz's thoughts on people's tendency to compare Chopin with Ernst, the latter of which he much prefers.
Chopin "pushed rhythmic freedom much too far [...] simply couldn't play in strict time [and] was strictly the virtuoso of the elegant salon, the intimate gathering."
Well, I found my answer!

...if he spoke well, he drank likewise. That fatal cup set such tides of champagne flowing that all Liszt's eloquence was shipwrecked in it. Belloni [L's agent] and I were still reasoning with him in the street at two in the morning, and urging on him the advisability of waiting until daylight before engaging in single combat with pistols at two yards' range with a Bohemian who had drunk even better than he.

Count Michael Wielhorsky told me that he was one of an audience of fifty which in 1820 heard the Symphony in A [Beethoven's 7th] performed! The Viennese were busy going to Salieri's operas. Puny creatures! A giant had risen among them but they were happier with dwarves.

"... a splendid head, like an exasperated eagle..."

- Gautier on Berlioz (La musique)

Does that great pianist Madame Clara Schumann have any rival in Germany who can properly be compared with her? I believe not.

This coming from Berlioz who was very good friends with one Franz Liszt. I have now heard a few accounts, including that of Brahms, that lead me to believe Clara might have been the greatest pianist of her time. [Cont.]

The worthy man [Schott] gives the impression of having been, like the sleeping beauty, in a coma for the past hundred years. To all my questions he answered very slowly, interspersing his words with profound silences: 'I do not think... you can... give a concert... here... there is no... orchestra...there is no...audience...we haven't got any...money!

[Cont...]

A couple of unsolicited recommendations for your Thursday:

La belle voyageuse Op.2: No.4 Ballade Irlanda

Les nuits d'été Op.7: 2. La spectre de la rose

Anne Sofie Von Otter's renditions are from another planet. You can thank me later.

Eugene de Mirecourt was shocked at the 'lack of restraint, unnecessary vehemence and acerbity, and humour in poor taste' displayed in Berlioz's writings.

Berlioz said:
"...there are those who think me violent, scathing, supercilious in what I write. Fools! If I really spoke my mind, you would find the nettles you complain of a bed of roses compared with the gridiron on which I would roast you."

I love this man! :D

I managed to carry through the arrangements for [the] benefit performance... Liszt and Chopin performed during an entr'acte**

** Playing a duet.

!!!! I could die right there and then, a happy man! Surely life peaks at witnessing Chopin-Liszt playing Four-hand! 😆

[Berlioz watching a horrid performance at the Sistine Chapel]

... To crown all, the solos were dispatched in a soprano voice by a vigorous looking gentleman with florid complexion and enormous black side-whiskers.
'Good God,' I exclaimed to my neighbour, who was choking with suppressed laughter, 'is everything miraculous in this favoured country? Have you ever seen a bearded castrato before?

... cont...

Berlioz meets Mendelssohn for the first time and of course with a single mention of his name I am required to spend the entire day getting reacquainted with his 'Lieder ohne Worte'.
That Op30 No.1 in Eb 😍

... soothing music was what the general public[...]wanted.
[...]rather colourless, safely predictable, innocent of unheard-of rhythms or harmonies or new procedures of any sort, modest in its demands on the intelligence and concentration of performer and listener alike...

1824 or 2024. Some things never change.

Well, one day at the Cape of Good Hope I was strolling about, whistling, when a big man, sunburnt and with a beard like a sapper, turned round and stared at me. He'd heard me whistling in French, that must have been how he knew me. "Hey, you young rogue," says he, "are you French?"
"I should bloody well think I am," says I.
[...] "Ah, you're a Frenchman."
"Yes."
"Ah..." and he turned away.

'Ouf! I'm going outside—I need some air. It's unbelievable, wonderful! It so moved and disturbed me and turned me upside down that when I came out of my box and went to put my hat on, for a moment I didn't know where my head was. Leave me alone. I'll see you tomorrow.'

- Berlioz's teacher, Lesueur, on first hearing Beethoven's C minor symphony.