A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Tomaschek, Wenzel
TOMASCHEK, Wenzel, composer, born April 17, 1774, at Skutsch in Bohemia. He was the youngest of a large family, and his father, a well-to-do linen-weaver, having been suddenly reduced to poverty, two of his brothers, a priest and a public official, had him educated. He early showed talent for music, and was placed at Chrudim with Wolf, a well-known teacher, who taught him singing and the violin. He next wished to learn the piano and organ, and his brother the priest sent him a spinet, on which he practised day and night. The Minorite fathers of Iglan offered him a choristership, with instruction in theory. On the breaking of his voice in 1790, he went to Prague to study philosophy and law, supporting himself the while by giving lessons. All his spare time, even the hours of rest, was spent in studying the works of Marpurg, Kirnberger, Matheson, Türk, and Vogler, and he thus laid a solid foundation of scientific knowledge. Neither did he neglect practical music, but made himself familiar with the works of Mozart and Pleyel, and became acquainted with Winter, Kozeluch, and above all, Beethoven, who exercised a life-long influence over him. In his autobiography, published in a volume called 'Libussa' (1845, etc.), Tomaschek writes, 'It was in 1798, when I was studying law, that Beethoven, that giant among players, came to Prague. At a crowded concert in the Convict-hall he played his Concerto in C (op. 15), the Adagio and Rondo grazioso from the Sonata in A (op. 2), and extemporised on a theme from Mozart's Clemenza di Tito, "Ah tu fosti il primo oggetto." His grand style of playing, and especially his bold improvisation, had an extraordinary effect upon me. I felt so shaken that for several days I could not bring myself to touch the piano; indeed it was only my inextinguishable love for the art, that, after much reasoning with myself, drove me back to the instrument with even increased industry.' Before long, however, the critical faculty returned. After hearing Beethoven twice more, he says, 'This time I was able to listen with greater calmness of mind, and though I admired as much as ever the power and brilliancy of his playing, I could not help noticing the frequent jumps from subject to subject which destroyed the continuity and gradual development of his ideas. Defects of this kind often marred those most magnificent creations of his superabundant fancy.' 'Had Beethoven's compositions (only a few of which were then printed) claimed to be classical standard works as regards rhythm, harmony, and counterpoint, I should perhaps have been discouraged from carrying on my self-cultivation; but as it was, I felt nerved to further effort.' Three years later Tomaschek declared Beethoven to have still further perfected his playing. He himself about this time published some 'Ungarische Tänze' (without ever having heard a Hungarian air) and Hölty's 'Elegie auf eine Rose,' an early specimen of programme-music. Twelve waltzes had a great success at the Prague Carnival of 1797; but these he burnt. He was known as a pianist, and esteemed as a teacher by the principal nobility, but hesitated between the profession of music and an official career. Meantime Count Bucquoi von Longueval offered him the post of composer in his household, with such a salary as to place him at ease in money-matters; and this he accepted. Prague continued to be his home, but he made occasional journeys, especially to Vienna. In November 1814 he paid Beethoven a visit, of which he has left an account ('Libussa,' 1846) in the form of a conversation. He tells us that Meyerbeer and other artists had put themselves at Beethoven's disposal, for the performance of the 'Battle of Vittoria,' and that Meyerbeer played the big drum. 'Ha! ha! ha!' exclaims Beethoven, 'I was not at all pleased with him; he could not keep time, was always coming in too late, and I had to scold him well.[1] Ha! ha! ha! I dare say he was put out. He is no good. He has not pluck enough to keep time.' Pluck was a quality which Meyerbeer never possessed, even at the tune of his greatest successes. A fortnight later Tomaschek repeated the visit, and describes it in even greater detail ('Libussa' 1847). Meyerbeer's 'Two Caliphs' was then being performed, and on Tomaschek saying that it began with a Hallelujah and ended with a Requiem, Beethoven remarked, 'Yes, it is all up with his playing.' And again, 'He knows nothing of instrumental music; singing he does understand, and that he should stick to. Besides, he knows but little of composition. I tell you he will come to no good.' Beethoven's prophecy was not fulfilled; but these notes are interesting records of his opinions, and show a high esteem for Tomaschek.
Tomaschek's house became the centre of musical life in Prague, and the list of his pupils includes Dreyschock, Kittl, Kuhe, Schulhoff, Bocklet, Dessauer, Worzischek, and Würffel. In 1823 he married Wilhelmine Ebert, remaining in Count Bucquoi's service, though with a house of his own, where he was much visited by strangers, especially by English. He was hospitable and pleasant except on the subject of music, on which he was given to laying down the law. In person he was tall, and of a military carriage. The superficial was his abhorrence. Even in his smaller works there was a technical completeness, which procured him the title of the 'Schiller of music.' His church music includes a Missa Solennis in E♭, and several Requiems, but his predilection was for dramatic music, to which he was led by its connection with the Ballad and the Lied. He set several of Goethe's and Schiller's poems, and also old Czech songs from the Königinhof MS.[2]
Tomaschek played his setting of Goethe's poems before the poet himself at Eger, and was very kindly received. His opera 'Seraphine' (1811) was well received at the National Theatre in Prague, in spite of a poor libretto; but in spite of this success he declined to permit the appearance of two other operas, 'Alvara' and 'Sakuntala.' He left scenas from Goethe's 'Faust,' and from 'Wallenstein,' 'Maria Stuart,' and the 'Braut von Messina,' as well as other vocal compositions, which were presented with his other remains to the Bohemian National Museum in Prague, by his nephew Freiherr von Tomaschek.
Besides a quantity of smaller works, chiefly Lieder, Tomaschek published 110 with opus numbers, including the interesting 'Eklogues' (op. 35, 39, 47, 51, 53, 66 and 83) and 'Dithyramb' (op. 65, Prague, Berra), which would still repay the attention of pianists. It is unfortunate for Tomaschek's fame that his works were contemporaneous with Beethoven's, but they exercised a material influence on such an artist as Robert Schumann. Is it too much to hope that these lines may direct some musicians to an unjustly forgotten composer?
Tomaschek died April 3, 1850, and was buried in the churchyard of Koschir, near Prague.[ F. G. ]