A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Zelter, Carl
ZELTER, Carl Friedrich, Director of the Berlin Singakademie, and founder of the Liedertafeln now so general throughout Germany, was born at Berlin, Dec. 11, 1758. His father, who was a mason, embodied in a series of maxims his lofty ideal of the mason's prerogatives. Carl's mother taught him 'pretty Bible sayings and severe modesty'; his father, more intent on building houses in Germany than castles in Spain, declared that 'handicraft ranks before everything; the handicraftsman is the true citizen; the law which binds him protects him,' etc., etc.—aphorisms which were soon forgotten by Carl, who practised on a small fiddle presented to him on his eighth Christmas Eve, and at ten years of age employed a whole summer in the construction of an organ 'with a pedal that could be trod upon.' He has recorded the first indelible impression that he received on hearing Graun's opera 'Phaeton,' to which his parents treated him in the Carnival of 1770. 'The grand powerful masses of tone riveted my attention far more than the melody and construction of the airs.… I thought the orchestra a riddle as wonderful as it was beautiful. I was seated amongst the musicians.… I swam in a sea of delight,' etc., etc. Of the opera itself he says little, except that the sweet unknown Italian words added to the magic of the whole, so that he afterwards agreed with the Great Frederic as to the profanity of allowing Art to speak in the vulgar tongue, and sympathised heartily with the royal dislike of the German opera. When nearly 14, his father sent him to the Gymnasium, but here, though the lessons got on tolerably well, his relations with his fellow-students were so stormy that the place became too hot to hold him; he was rusticated for a time, and a bar sinister drawn across his name—'Est petulans, petulantior, petulantissimus.' He was then handed over to the organist of the Gymnasium, who had a school of his own. This was only a temporary expedient, for Zelter returned to the Gymnasium, where some of the masters were well disposed towards him, notwithstanding his taste for practical jokes. At the age of 17, after another course of the organist's teaching, necessitated by a little affair of honour, he left school, and now his real education began. Though apprenticed to his father's trade, he was but a half-hearted mason. He made friends with any one who happened to have musical proclivities, and amongst others with the town musician, George, an original even in those days. In his household Zelter was always a welcome guest; George appreciated his musical skill and enthusiasm, and gave him free access to all his musical instruments. Meantime Zelter was ripening into a capable musician. In 1777 his apprenticeship was declared over, and a great longing seized him to join his friend Hackert, the artist, in a journey to Italy, a longing which often returned upon him through his life, though he never fulfilled it. Hackert went without him, and he remained at home to do a good deal of love-making. His love affairs, described minutely in his autobiography, are of little interest, except perhaps his flirtation with an artistic Jewess, at whose father's house Moses Mendelssohn and other scholars used to meet. The lady and her lover quarrelled over the theory of suicide, and parted company because they differed about Goethe's treatment of Werther, who, in Zelter's opinion, ought to have shot Albrecht instead of himself. The episode is worth recording, as it marks the first connection of the names of Goethe and Mendelssohn with that of Zelter. In spite of such distractions, Zelter passed his examination easily and successfully, and was made a master mason in consequence. When he was 18, his first Cantata was performed in St. George's Church, and Marpurg the theorist thought so highly of it, that Zelter applied to Kirnberger and Fasch for further instruction in musical science. In gratitude for his old master's teaching, he ultimately became the biographer of Fasch,[1] the pupil of Sebastian Bach, and the original founder of the Berlin Singakademie. From 1792 to 1800, Zelter acted as accompanyist to that institution, and at the death of Fasch he succeeded to the Directorship. A few years previously, Zelter's music to some of Goethe's songs had so attracted the poet, that a correspondence began which shows that Goethe was capable of a real affection for at least one of his blindest worshippers.[2] There are frequent allusions in these letters to the progress of the Singakademie, over which in his later years Zelter reigned as a musical dictator from whose decision there was no appeal. Its influence was unquestionably due to the man who revived Sebastian Bach's music, and was the first to inspire his pupil, Felix Mendelssohn, with his own love for it. The Akademie consisted originally of only 30 members, who met weekly at different private houses, and during Fasch's life they practised little except his compositions. It was reserved for Zelter to enlarge the area of selection, and under him some of the greatest works of the time were added to the repertoire. The Liedertafel, a more modern institution, at first consisted of 25 men, singers, poets and composers. The society met once a month for supper and music, the songs were the compositions of the guests themselves, and the gatherings are amusingly described in Zelter's letters to Goethe. As the teacher and friend of Felix Mendelssohn, Zelter is entitled to lasting gratitude, for though his judgment of contemporary art was at times mistaken, his faith in his pupil never waned. Mendelssohn, on the other hand, never ceased to regard him as 'the restorer of Bach to the Germans.' The real history of the first performance of the Matthew Passion is to be found in Devrient's 'Recollections of Mendelssohn,' and in 'Erinnerungen aus meinem Leben,' by A. B. Marx. [See Mendelssohn, vol. ii. p. 260a.] The joint enthusiasm of Mendelssohn and Devrient for Bach's music had been kindled by the study of the score of the 'Passion,' which Zelter had bought years before as waste paper at an auction of the goods of a deceased cheesemonger. In spite of his devotion to every one of the name of Bach, Zelter rashly ventured on simplifying some of the recitatives and choral parts, after the method of Graun. The purity of the work was saved by Felix Mendelssohn's grandmother, who prevailed on the fortunate possessor of the score to present the treasure to her grandson. Not only was the work well bestowed and rescued from sacrilege, but its publication and performance inaugurated a Iresh era in the art of music. The expediency of printing the work was discussed, at a dinner party given by Schlesinger, the publisher. Marx was appealed to for an opinion. 'All I can say is, that it is the greatest thing I know in Church music,' was his reply, whereupon old Schlesinger struck the table with his fist, and called out, 'I will publish it, should it cost me three thousand thalers. I will do it for the honour of the house.' The zeal of Mendelssohn and Devrient, in league to prevail on Zelter to allow a public performance, eventually triumphed over every obstacle. Their old teacher was at first incredulous; it may well have been that he was conscious of the original sin of tampering with the score, and felt that the 'lynx eyes' of Felix had silently convicted him. The concession was wrung from him with difficulty, but once given he put the forces of the Akademie at his pupil's disposal. The first and ever-memorable performance of the 'Passion' music was given March 11, 1829, under Mendelssohn's baton, his friend Edward Devrient singing the part of Christ. For Goethe, Zelter had the devotion of a faithful dog, the great man's slightest wish was law to him; nay, so strong was the musician's adoration of the poet, that after the suicide of his favourite step-son, he writes that even in the midst of his misery he is happy—yes, truly happy, for has not the sympathy of his immortal friend moved him to use the brotherly Du instead of the ordinary Sie in his letter of condolence? 'Mark my words; Zelter will not live long now,' said Mendelssohn, when he heard of Goethe's death in 1832; and he was right. Zelter sank almost immediately, and died on the 15th May following. He is best described in his own words, 'strong, healthy, full of sap and good-will,' a rough diamond and of good hard lasting stuff. He composed several songs and quartets for the Liedertafel of Berlin, and set many of Goethe's songs to music. These songs were interpreted in their day by Mara and other great singers. [For their characteristics see Song, vol. iii. p. 626a.] Amongst his numerous works, now forgotten, was a Cantata on the death of Frederick the Great, which seems, by the account of it in a journal of 1786, to have been thought worthy of the occasion. He also wrote an oratorio called 'The Ascension,' a Requiem, a Te Deum, and several other works which were never published. A list of these is to be found in 'A Sketch of the Life of Carl Friedrich Zelter, arranged from autobiographical MSS.,' by Rintel (Janke, Berlin, 1861).
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