A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Tartini, Giuseppe
TARTINI, Giuseppe, famous violin-player and composer, was born at Pirano, a town in Istria, April 12, 1692. His father, a Florentine by birth and an elected Nobile of Parenzo, intended him for the Church, and sent him to the school of the Oratorians in his native town. Later on he attended an ecclesiastical school at Capo d'Istria, and there received his first instruction in music. Being entirely averse to the Church career, he went, at eighteen, to Padua, and matriculated as a student of law. But law was not more to his taste than theology. Led by his highly impulsive temperament he even set aside his musical studies in favour of the then fashionable art of fencing. In this he soon became so great an adept as to propose seriously to adopt it as a profession at Naples or Paris. Fortunately for music Tartini's passionate character involved him in a serious difficulty and caused him to exchange the sword for the fiddlestick and the pen. He fell in love with a niece of the Archbishop of Padua, Cardinal Cornaro, and was secretly married to her. The immediate consequences of this hasty step were disastrous. His parents withdrew all further support, and the Cardinal was so incensed by what he considered an insult to his family, that Tartini had to fly from Padua. He first went to Rome, but not considering himself safe there, took refuge in a monastery at Assisi, of which a relative of his was an inmate. Here he remained for two years, and in the solitude of monastic life resumed his musical studies, and at last discovered his true vocation. The organist of the monastery, Padre Boemo, was an excellent musician,and being delighted to find so talented a scholar, spared no time and trouble in teaching him counterpoint and composition. As a violinist he appears to have been his own teacher. His progress however must have been very rapid, as we know that his performances at the services of the monastery chapel soon became a well-known attraction to the neighbourhood. The development of his musical genius was not however the only fruit of these two years: he underwent a remarkable change of character. Influenced by the peaceful religious life around him, he seems entirely to have lost his quarrelsome temper, and acquired that modesty of manner and serenity of mind with which he has been credited by all who knew him later in life. His residence at Assisi came to a sudden end by a curious accident. One day, at the service, a gust of wind blew aside the curtain behind which Tartini was playing a solo. A Paduan, who happened to be present, instantly recognised his strongly-marked features, and brought the news of his whereabouts to his native town. Meanwhile the Archbishop's pride had softened, and Tartini was allowed to rejoin his wife. He went with her to Venice, where he met Veracini, and was so much struck with the great Florentine violinist, as at once to recognise the necessity for fresh studies, in order to modify his own style and correct the errors into which he, being almost entirely self-taught, had very naturally fallen. For this purpose he went to Ancona, leaving even his wife behind, and remained for some time in complete retirement. In 1721 he appears to have returned to Padua, and was appointed solo violinist in the chapel of San Antonio, the choir and orchestra of which enjoyed a high musical reputation. That his reputation must have been already well established is proved not only by this appointment, but more especially by the fact that in 1723 he received and accepted an invitation to perform at the great festivities given for the coronation of Charles VI at Prague. On this occasion he met with Count Kinsky, a rich and enthusiastic amateur, who kept an excellent private band, and prevailed on Tartini to accept the post of conductor. This he retained for three years and then returned to his old position at Padua. From this time he appears never again to have left his beloved Padua for any length of time, where he held an highly honoured position, with an income sufficient for his modest requirements. An invitation to visit England, under most brilliant conditions (£3000), which he received from Lord Middlesex, he is reported to have declined by stating 'that, although not rich, he had sufficient, and did not wish for more.' His salary at San Antonio's was 400 ducats, to which must be added the fees from his numerous pupils and the produce of his compositions. Burney, who visited Padua a few months after his death, gives a few interesting details. But when he writes, 'He married a wife of the Xantippe sort, and his patience upon the most trying occasions was always truly Socratic,' we need not attach too much weight to such a statement. Great artists are frequently but indifferent managers, and, in their honest endeavours to restore the balance, their wives have often most undeservedly gained unpleasant reputations. Burney continues, 'He had no other children than his scholars, of whom his care was constantly paternal. Nardini, his first and favourite pupil, came from Leghorn to see him in his sickness and attend him in his last moments with true filial affection and tenderness. During the latter part of his life he played but little, except at the church of S. Antony of Padua, to which he devoted himself so early as the year 1722, where his attendance was only required on great festivals, but so strong was his zeal for the service of his patron-saint, that he seldom let a week pass without regaling him to the utmost of his palsied nerves.' He died Feb. 16, 1770, was buried in the church of S. Catherine, a solemn requiem being held in the chapel of S. Antonio. At a later period his statue was erected in the Prato della Valle, a public walk at Padua, where it may still be seen among the statues of the most eminent men connected with that famous university.
Tartini's fame rests on threefold ground. He was one of the greatest violinists of all time, an eminent composer, and a scientific writer on musical physics. To gain an idea of his style of playing we must turn to the testimony of his contemporaries. They all agree in crediting him with those qualities which make a great player: a fine tone, unlimited command of fingerboard and bow, enabling him to overcome the greatest difficulties with complete ease; perfect intonation in double-stops, and a most brilliant shake and double-shake, which he executed equally well with all fingers. That the composer of the 'Trillo del Diavolo,' and many other fine and noble pieces, could not have played but with the deepest feeling and most consummate taste, it is almost superfluous to say. Indeed we have his own testimony, when Campagnoli in his Violin-School reports him as having remarked upon a brilliant virtuoso: 'That is beautiful! That is difficult! but here (pointing to the heart) he has said nothing to me.' At the same time it ought to be mentioned that Quanz (see that article), who heard him at Prague, and who certainly was no mean authority, while granting his eminence as a player generally, adds: 'his manner was cold, his taste wanting in noblesse and in the true style of singing.' Whatever the reason of this strange criticism may have been, to our mind it stands condemned by the deeply emotional and pathetic character of Tartini's compositions, and the want of taste we presume to have been on the side of the critic rather than of the artist. Quanz also states, that he was fond of playing in extreme positions, a statement which is difficult to understand, because in his works we very rarely find him exceeding the compass of the third position. But if it is to be understood that Tartini, in order to continue the same musical phrase on the same string, frequently used the higher positions for passages which, as far as the mere mechanical production of the sounds was concerned, he might have played in lower ones, Quanz's criticism would imply that Tartini used one of the most important and effective means for good musical phrasing and cantabile playing, in doing which he was anticipating the method by which the great masters of the Paris School, and above all Spohr, succeeded in making the violin the 'singing instrument' par excellence. That Tartini should ever have condescended to astonish his audiences by the execution of mechanical tricks after the fashion of a Locatelli (see that article), appears, from the character of all his known compositions, morally impossible. Both as player and composer he was the true successor of Corelli, representing in both respects the next step in the development of the art. But there is an undeniable difference of character and talent between the two great masters. They are striking instances of the two main types of the Italian artist, which can be distinguished from the oldest times down to our days. The one, to which Corelli belongs, gifted with an unerring sense of artistic propriety and technical perfection, the strongest feeling for beauty of form and sound—with pathos, dignity and gracefulness their chief means of expression; the other, of which Tartini was a representative, while sharing all the great qualities of the former, adds to them that southern fire of passionate emotion which carries everything before it. In technique Tartini represents a considerable progress upon Corelli by his introduction of a great variety of bowing, which again was only possible by the use of a longer and elastic bow. [See Bow; and Tourte.] His work, 'Arte dell' Arco,' 'L'art de l'archet'—a set of studies in the form of 50 Variations[1] gives a good idea not only of his manner of bowing, but also of his left-hand technique. In respect of the latter the advance upon Corelli is still more striking. Double stops of all kinds, shakes, and double shakes are of frequent occurrence. We remember how Corelli (see that article) was puzzled by the difficulty of a passage in an overture of Handel's. That could certainly not have happened with Tartini. In some of his works there are passages which, even to the highly developed technique of the present day afford no inconsiderable difficulty. We will mention only the famous shake-passage in the 'Trillo.' But at the same time he shows his appreciation of purity of style by the absence of mere show-difficulties, which he certainly was quite capable of executing.
How great he was as a teacher is proved by the large number of excellent pupils he formed. The most eminent are Nardini, Bini, Manfredi, Ferrari, Graun, and Lahoussaye. Some of these have borne most enthusiastic testimony to his rare merits and powers as a teacher, to his unremitting zeal and personal devotion to his scholars, many of whom were linked to him by bonds of intimate friendship to his life's end. Of the pre-eminently methodical and systematic style of his teaching, we gain an idea from a most interesting letter, addressed by him to his pupil Maddalena Lombardini-Sirmen, and from his pamphlet 'Trattato delle appogiature.' [See Violin-playing.] The following characteristic head is reproduced from a drawing in possession of Julian Marshall, Esq.
As a composer, not less than as a player, he stands on the shoulders of the greatest of his predecessors, Corelli. He on the whole adopts the concise and logical forms of that great master and of Vivaldi (see that article); but in his hands the forms appear less rigid, and gain ampler and freer proportions; the melodies are broader, the phrases more fully developed; the harmonies and modulations richer and more varied. Still more striking is the progress if we look at Tartini's subject-matter, at the character of his ideas, and the spirit of their treatment. Not content with the noble but somewhat conventional pathos of the slow movements of the older school, their well-written but often rather dry fugues and fugatos and traditional dance-rhythms, he introduces in his slow movements a new element of emotion and passion; most of his quick movements are highly characteristic, and even in their 'passages' have nothing dry and formal, but are full of spirit and fire. In addition to all this we not rarely meet with an element of tender dreamy melancholy and of vivid imagination which now and then grows into the fantastic or romantic. His works bear not so much the stamp of his time as that of his own peculiar individuality; and in this respect he may well be regarded as a prototype of the most individual of all violinists, Paganini. What we know from one of his pupils about his peculiar habits in composing, throws a significant light on the more peculiarly intellectual bent of his musical talent. Before sitting down to a new composition, he would read a sonnet of Petrarch; under the notes of his violin-parts he would write the words of a favourite poem, and to single movements of his sonatas he would often give mottos, such as 'Ombra cara' or 'Volgete il riso in pianto o mie pupille.' The most striking illustration of this peculiar side of his artistic character is given in his famous sonata 'Il Trillo del Diavolo.' According to Lalande ('Voyage d'un Francais en Italie 1765 et 66,' tom. 8) Tartini himself used to relate the circumstances under which he conceived the idea of this singularly fine piece, in the following manner: 'One night I dreamt that I had made a bargain with the devil for my soul. Everything went at my command,—my novel servant anticipated every one of my wishes. Then the idea struck me to hand him my fiddle and to see what he could do with it. But how great was my astonishment when I heard him play with consummate skill a sonata of such exquisite beauty as surpassed the boldest flight of my imagination. I felt enraptured, transported, enchanted; my breath was taken away; and I awoke. Seizing my violin I tried to retain the sounds I had heard. But it was in vain. The piece I then composed, the Devil's Sonata, although the best I ever wrote, how far below the one I had heard in my dream!'
The number of his compositions is enormous. Fétis enumerates over 50 Sonatas with bass, 18 Concertos with accompaniment of stringed orchestra, and a Trio for 2 violins and bass, all which were published in various editions at Paris, London, and Amsterdam. In addition to these a large number of works exist in MS. Gerber speaks of over 200 violin concertos, Fétis of 48 unpublished sonatas and 127 concertos. He also composed a Miserere, which was performed during Holy Week in the Sistine Chapel in the year 1768; but according to Fétis this was a work of little importance and has never been performed again.
It remains to speak of Tartini's writings on the theory of music. During his stay at Ancona, probably in 1716, he discovered the fact that, in sounding double stops, a third or combination-sound was produced. He was not content to utilise this observation by making the appearance of this third note a criterion of the perfect intonation of double stops (which do not produce it at all unless taken with the most absolute correctness), but he tried to solve the scientific problem underlying the phenomenon. In the then undeveloped state of acoustics it was impossible for him to succeed. It is also highly probable that his knowledge of mathematics was insufficient for the task. At any rate he wrote and published an elaborate work on the theory of musical science generally, and on the phenomenon of a third sound in particular, under the title 'Trattato di Musica secondo la vera scienza dell' Armonia' (Padua, 1754). His theories were attacked in a number of pamphlets, amongst them one by J. J. Rousseau. In 1767 he published a second book, 'Dei principii dell' Armonia Musicale contenuta nel diatonico genere,' and towards the end of his life he wrote a third one on the mathematics of music, 'Delle ragioni e delle proporzioni,' which however has never been published and appears to be lost. The absolute value of Tartini's theoretical writings is probably not great, but there remains the fact, that he was the discoverer of an interesting acoustical phenomenon which only the advanced scientific knowledge of our days has been able to explain (Helmholtz)—a fact which, coupled with his serious attempts to solve the problem, speaks much for his intellectual attainments and versatility of mind.
Finally he wrote, under the title 'Trattato delle appogiature si ascendenti che discendenti per il violino,' etc., a little work on the execution and employment of the various kinds of shakes, mordents, cadenzas, etc. As giving an authentic explanation and direction for the execution of these ornaments according to the usage of the classical Italian school, this work is most interesting. It appears that it has never been published in Italian, but a French translation exists, under the title 'Traité des agrémens de la Musique, composé par le célèbre Giuzeppe Tartini à Padone, et traduit par le Sigr. P. Denis. A Paris chez M. de la Chevardier.'[2][ P. D. ]