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The Story of the Flute/Chapter 10

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4461021The Story of the Flute — Chapter 10: Music for the FluteHenry Macaulay Fitzgibbon

CHAPTER X.

MUSIC FOR THE FLUTE.

Early Composers—Loeillet—Mercy—Blavet—Quantz—Classical Composers—Flautist Composers—Kuhlau—His Successors—Good flute music—Taste of the public—Airs with variations—Doppler—Terschak—Modern School of Flute Composers—Flute and Harp or Guitar—Flute and Voice.

The flute has a more extensive repertoire than any other wind instrument; it is the best adapted for the drawing-room, being the least powerful and pronounced in tone.

One of the first to write regular solos for the flute was Jean Baptiste Loeillet (1653-1728), a native of Ghent, who is said to have been the first virtuoso to play the transverse flute in England (1705). He lived in HartEarly
Composers
Street, Covent Garden, where he held a weekly concert, at which Corelli's concertos were heard for the first time in England. He was the first flute in the orchestra of the Haymarket Theatre, and taught both the flute and the harpsichord. He died worth £16,000. Loeillet wrote numerous sonatas for one or two flutes, or flute and oboe, with bass, and for two flutes alone. Many of these compositions are preserved in the British Museum, and some have recently been republished in Paris. They are specially interesting as being the oldest flute solos now in print. An Englishman of French extraction named Louis Merci or Mercy (1690- 1750), who lived in Orange Court, Castle Street, Leicester Fields, would appear to have been the first British composer of solos for the flute, any of whose music still exists. Some of his flute solos can be seen in the British Museum. In his preface, Merci asserts the superiority of the flute to the violin, as equally capable of doing hard things and less loud or harsh in the high notes. He seems, however, to have always retained a hankering fondness for the recorder (his original instrument); and along with Stanesby (a famous wind instrument maker of that day) he devised a new system of non-transposing recorder.

Michel Blavet (1700-1768), a native of Besançon, gained a very high reputation by his playing, as both Quantz and Voltaire have testified. Frederick the Great tried in vain to retain his services. Blavet (who was left-handed) was principal flute in the Paris Opera House. He composed six sonatas for the flute, with figured bass (1732), and also some duets for two flutes. The sonatas have been recently republished, edited by L. Fleury for flute and pianoforte. They are in the Handelian style, each consisting of four or five short movements, chiefly in early dance measures, of a simple and tuneful character, and absolutely devoid of subtleties or intricacies of any kind.

The first German composer of original pieces for the flute was J.J. Ouantz, who wrote his first six sonatas in 1734. As Court musician to Frederick the Great, Quantz composed about three hundred flute concertosQuantz (the last is said to have been completed by the king himself after Quantz's death), two hundred flute solos, and numerous other works. The vast majority remain still in MS. in the Royal Library at Potsdam. A couple of the concertos, however, have been published. These have a quaint old-world, and somewhat ecclesiastical, flavour; they are dignified and melodious, exhibiting powerful treatment of the bass, careful and clever harmony, and skilful handling of the solo instrument; though Burney (c. 1770) considered them old-fashioned and commonplace. A movement from one of Quantz's concertos was played by M. Dumon, on a single-keyed ivory flute, at the Inventions Exhibition in London in 1885.

The great composers have written very little for the flute as a solo instrument. The six sonatas ofClassical
Composers
J. S. Bach, for flute and pianoforte (c. 1747), are amongst the treasures of the flute-player's library, and are in every respect quite worthy of the great master. Though lying chiefly within the first two octaves of the flute, they are by no means easy of execution; abounding in the arpeggios, rapid runs and groups of notes so characteristic of Bach. Frequent use is made of the low notes down to D below the stave, and they contain no cadenzas or passages for the flute alone. Handel has also written half a dozen sonatas for flute and figured bass. They are by no means so difficult as those of Bach. Handel likewise very seldom travels above the first two octaves, but he occasionally gives the flute some bars by itself. They are tuneful and playable, but present no features of special importance.

Haydn's chief contribution is a Sonata for flute or violin and pianoforte, containing a celebrated Adagio. This graceful work has many rapid passages for the flute, and it ascends to the top B′′′♭, a note which is also reached in Mozart's flute concerto in G. Mozart wrote two concertos for the flute, which are frequently performed, and some short trifles for flute and pianoforte.

It was long thought that, save some themes (op. 105, 107) and an arrangement (op. 41) of his Serenade (op. 25), Beethoven wrote no solos for the flute. Quite recently, however, Mr. Ary van Leeuwen of Vienna discovered in the Royal Library, Berlin, the MS. of a Sonata in E flat, the title-page of which is said to be certainly in Beethoven's handwriting, though the score is not. It bears no opus number, but if really composed by Beethoven it is clearly an early work. Weber's solitary contribution is a pretty but quite unimportant Romaniza Siciliana, and the same may be said of Mendelssohn's Hirtenlied, of which the flute part only was found among his MSS. Schubert has written an exceedingly difficult duet for flute and pianoforte (op. 160); an introduction and seven variations on the song Trockene Blumen. This piece was written in 1824, probably to display the powers of Ferdinand Bogner, an accomplished flautist. Doppler, who was a personal friend of Schubert, played this work in Vienna in 1862 with great success.

Amongst composers of the second rank, Rameau, Hoffmeister, Hummel, Kucken, Kalliwoda, and Molique have all written solos for the flute.

This practically exhausts the repertoire of the flute by elder composers whose names, at any rate, are familiar to the general musical public. No doubt the reason why it is so limited is to be found in the defective nature of the instrument till comparatively recent times.

A German enthusiast some years ago compiled a list of flute music of all kinds then existing, in which someFlautist
Composers
7,500 items are specified. The bulk of these are the work of flautists, many of whose names even—(such as Devienne, an indefatigable composer who wrote a work for ten wind instruments at the age of ten: he died in a lunatic asylum)—are quite unknown outside the flute-playing world, and whose compositions no longer exist. The earliest flautist-composer, whose works may still be said to live, is Antoine Tranquille Berbiguier, a most prolific but somewhat unequal writer; his compositions number over 200. Many abound in delicious melody and display vigour of imagination and very considerable depth of feeling. As an old writer says, "He captivates every description of players; and to him may be applied, with slight alteration, the emphatic words which Rousseau used in speaking of Gluck, "Que le chant lui sortait par les pores." Though many of his solos are of the "air with variations" type, he has also written some original pieces of great beauty.

The greatest of all flautist-composers was Kuhlau, whose classical compositions have deservedly earned for him the proud title, "The Beethoven ofKuhlau the flute," and many of his works undoubtedly show the influence of that great master, and would be quite worthy of him. Frederick Daniel Rodolphe Kuhlau was born in 1786 at the village of Uelzen in Luneburg, Hanover. At an early age, his mother sent him one dark winter's evening to draw water at the fountain; on the way thither he fell and injured one eye so much that he lost the sight of it. He studied the pianoforte, the flute, and other instruments at Hamburg. In order to avoid the Conscription of 1810, Kuhlau moved to Copenhagen, where he became Chamber Musician to the King, and in 1813 set about to revive the Danish opera. His operas were eminently successful. They had a pronounced national character, and skilfully introduced many of the famous old Danish folk-songs and national scenery. The King, voicing the popular enthusiasm, bestowed on him the title of Professor to the Faculty of Royal Danish Court Composers. Meanwhile Kuhlau had removed to Lyngbye, a little town near Copenhagen. In 1830, his house—a wooden structure—was burned and many valuable MSS. destroyed. Under this catastrophe his health gave way and he died on the 12th of March, 1832. A march of his own composition was performed at his funeral, which was one of great pomp.

Kuhlau, on the 2nd September, 1825, visited Beethoven at Baden. After a pleasant day in the open air they wound up with a supper party, at which Kuhlau extemporised a canon, to which Beethoven responded at once. Next morning, however, the latter wrote to Zinesball the following note:—

"My good friend, I had scarcely got home when I bethought me of the stuff I may have written yesterday. Give the enclosed to Kuhlau." The enclosed letter contained this canon which is one continuous pun on

Beethoven's Canon on the name "Kuhlau"

 
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    c g'( aes) f
    g ges f c' \bar "||"
    bes r r2 \bar "|"\segno
    r4 g( f) aes
    g \clef G \key bes \major ees'( d) f
    ees2. ees4
    d r r2\segno \bar "|"
    \override Score.BreakAlignment #'break-align-orders = #(
      make-vector 3 '(
        span-bar
        breathing-sign
        staff-bar
        clef
        key-cancellation
        key-signature
        time-signature
      )
    )
    \clef C r4 g,( f) a
    g ees( d!) f
    ees des( c) a
    d
  }
}
\addlyrics {Kuhl nicht lau, nicht lau Kuhl nicht lau etc.}

the name "Kuhlau":—"I must admit that the champagne went a little to my head yesterday, and I learned once more from experience, that such things rather prostrate than promote my energies; for, though able to respond fluently at the moment, still I can no longer recall what I wrote yesterday. Sometimes bear in mind your attached Beethoven" (Nohl's Letters of Beethoven).

Kuhlau certainly did more than any other composer to raise the standard of flute-music, and Sir G. Macfarren says he is one of the lights of modern art and ranks him with Schubert. One can play his eighteen sonatas for flute and pianoforte day after day with increased pleasure: they never pall. A great feature is the extremely interesting pianoforte accompaniments; they give full opportunity to the flautist and to the pianist alike for the display of executive skill. The Adagio movements are specially beautiful. These admirably constructed and brilliant works (written chiefly, it is said, at the desire of an enthusiastic amateur flautist) display the most thorough technical knowledge of the instrument.

Kuhlau was a voluminous composer, and over two hundred of his works are still in existence. They are a complete refutation of the assertion so frequentlyErroneous
idea that
there is
no good
music for
the flute
made, that there is no really good music written for the flute. This statement merely displays the ignorance of those who make it. We have already seen that several of the greatest composers have written for the instrument; and Kummer, Furstenau, Gabrielsky, Walckiers, following in the footsteps of Kuhlau, have left behind them a mass of original flute compositions, much of which is of a high order of merit, whilst in more recent times quite a number of works, worthy to be ranked as "classical," have appeared.[1]

The origin of this idea that flute music is all trifling rubbish is not far to seek; not only was the flute in its earlier stages a very imperfect instrument, but the players were also mediocre. Hawkins, writing in 1776, is very severe on the poor flute. Soon after his day, it was considerably improved and many of its defects remedied. At the same time a number of skilled performers appeared, and the flute entered on a golden age. Nicholson, Richardson, Drouet, Tulou, Demersseman (who wrote solos of terrific difficulty), Farrenc, Briccialdi, and other virtuosi were in turn delighting the public both in England and on the continent by their brilliant performances. The flute became the fashionable instrument; everybody who desired to be thought "a gentleman" played it "after a fashion." It was so portable, so convenient; also it was so much in keeping with the romantic Byronically gloomy bearing then in vogue.[2] The public taste was not educated: it was the age of the air variée. The great professional soloists naturally played the kind of music (?) which pleased their auditors and pupils most.[3] Every suitable or unsuitable operatic air, every Welsh, Irish, Scottish, or English tune, was adapted by them for the flute, and tortured into all sorts of interminable scales and exercises yclept variations, with double-tongueing, skips from the highest to the lowest notes and such-like tricks; written to show off the executive skill of the performer and to make the audience wonder how it was all done.

These were the pieces that filled the programmes at public concerts. Even at the London Philharmonic Concert in 1847, Ciardi chose as his solo hisTaste of
the Day
own fantasia on Lucia de Lammermoor, and at a concert at the Argyle Rooms on June 24th, 1829 (at which Mendelssohn's overture to Midsummer Night's Dream was seasonably performed for the first time in England, conducted by Mendelssohn in person), Drouet played his own variations on an air from one of Weber's operas and on God Save the King. As a sample of the criticism of the day let me quote Mr. James' description of the last-named solo:—

"Here we have an abundance of difficulty in each variation. The first is made of running passages, and requires every note to be distinctly articulated; and it is, perhaps, the most arduous of the whole five, for no performance short of perfection can make it effective. The air is preserved most admirably throughout, and yet there is nothing far-fetched, or that baffles the instrument to accomplish. The third variation is one of quite a different character. It is composed of octaves, and abounds with chromatic passages. The flute executes the one with the greatest precision, and there is no instrument in use among us which can accomplish the other with finer effect. The last variation of this distinguished piece is admirably calculated for the display of the instrument. It might be called a solfeggio passage; for the upper notes give distinctly the air, while an accompaniment is going on in the under ones. . . . In this piece we have almost every difficulty, in three octaves, which music is capable of comprehending."

The following very amusing description of this "here we go up, up, up, and here we go down, down, down" style of composition was given in Musical Opinion, 1890:—

"Air first, then common chord variation (staccato), 'runs' variation, slow movement with a turn between every other two notes, and pump handle shakes that wring tears of agony from the flute; then the enormously difficult finale, in which you are up in the air on one note, then drop with a bang, which nearly breaks you, on to low C♮, only to bounce up again, hold on to a note, shake it (wring its neck, in fact), scatter it in all directions and come sailing down triumphantly on a chromatic (legato) with a perfect whirlpool of foaming notes, only to be bumped and pushed about until you are exhasuted. Some dear old soul of eighty summers, sitting among the listeners, remarks that 'she remembers hearing it when she was a girl, played by her father, who was really a good performer on the flute, and such a lovely flute he had, too: all inlaid with mother-of-pearl.'"

When this was the kind of thing performed by the great Tritons of the day, of course the smaller fry and the amateurs (often incompetent and of the pale-young-curate type) followed their lead—at a considerable distance. Hence arose a general idea that this was the only kind of music that the flute was capable of rendering; in fact, one inquirer asked if there was any other piece ever written for the instrument besides "There's nae luck" with variations—so exclusively had he heard it both in public and private.

This writing of shallow fantasias on operas, airs varied, and melodies "with embellishments" and ear-torturing effects, or imitations of the movements of butterflies or swallows, or of the noise of mills, spinning-wheels, etc., still continues to flourish, especially in Italy. One modern Italian composer (Galli) is responsible for no less than four hundred, but he has been beaten by a German, W. Popp (a pupil of Drouet), who probably has written more than any flute composer, ancient or modern; his works exceed five hundred opus numbers.

Happily, however, numerous compositions of a higher class exist. These works are somewhat in the nature of original fantasias; and, all things considered,Solos of a
better type
are perhaps the best calculated to show off the beauties of the flute. R. S. Pratten, the famous English player, may be said to have inaugurated this description of piece in his famous Concertstück, in which he substitutes elaborate counterpoint for variations. F. Doppler has written several extremely effective, though difficult, solos of this class. All his pieces are very florid and abound in cadenzas for the flute; their chief defect is the thinness of the pianoforte accompaniments. This fault, however, cannot be found with the majority of the solos of Adolf Terschak—the most prolific and also the favourite composer of pieces of this description; he has written over two hundred of them. They vary considerably in excellence, many being, as Böhm said, "like Terschak himself, much ado about nothing," and some of his later efforts are more like studies or finger exercises than solos. But many of his earlier compositions (such as Bahillard and La Siréne) are full of ear-haunting melody, and have rarely been equalled. Not only are they admirably written for, and extremely playable on the flute, but also the accompaniments are full and grateful to the pianist. Another composer of the same class is Luigi Hugues, an Italian whose works deserve to be better known in this country.

Within the past ten years quite a new school of composers has arisen, who seem destined to give renewed life to the flute as a solo instrument.The Most
Modern
School
of Flute
Composers
Their work is characterised often by extreme modernity and abounds in subtle and unusual harmonies, frequent changes of key and rhythm, etc. In many cases the pianoforte part (the weak point with most of the older flautist-composers) is quite as important as the flute part; the two being interwoven, as it were. Some of these composers (such as Rössler, Verhey, Buchner, Langer) have adopted the regular sonata or concerto form, in three or four movements, with great success. Their works are, as a rule, of very considerable difficulty, and are mostly "made in Germany." Others, chiefly French, have, as a rule, adopted much shorter forms, especially the Romance. Their pieces are of a more simple type; they often possess a certain elegaic or pastoral charm; soft and unobtrusive, abounding more in pianissimo than in forte passages. Many of them are veritable "songs without words." The chief writers of this class are Joachim Andersen and J. Donjon. Several of the compositions of the latter show the flute at its best; they are very distinctive, and I know of no others in exactly the same style. Donjon makes most effective use of the low register, notably in his fine Offertoire (op. 12). The pieces I have referred to afford ample scope for the display of tone, of phrasing, of expression, and happily these are now more highly valued than mere virtuosity and digital dexterity. The flute is daily becoming more and more used to convey the ideas of modern composers of note. The days of what Mr. Collard terms, "ear-tickling fantasias," with their jog-trot accompaniment, are numbered: flute-players now "tune their pipe to loftier strains."

The flute and harp is a very happy combination, the sustained notes of the flute contrasting well with the pizzicato of the harp. Mozart wrote aFlute and
Harp or
Guitar
concerto for these instruments, and several modern French composers have adopted it. Haydn wrote a trio for flute, harp, and bass. At one time quite a number of pieces were written for flute and guitar, many of which were performed by Pratten, whose wife was an accomplished guitarist. But the combination is never heard in England now, probably owing to the dearth of guitar-players.

The flute was formerly much used in obligatos, not only in operas, oratorios and cantatas, but also in songs. But nowadays it is only on rare occasions that a flute obligato is heard on the concert-platform; when it is, it is nearly always the mad scena from Lucia de Lammermoor or Bishop's song,Flute and
Voice
Lo! hear the Gentle Lark. It is remarkable that modern song-composers have not paid more attention to the possibilities of flute obligatos. The instrument is admiraby adapted, owing to its sympathetic tone, to accompany the human voice (especially a light soprano), and in the hands of a skilful player blends so perfectly that it is often well-nigh impossible to distinguish the notes of the singer from those of the flautist. In order to be really effective, the obligato must be one specially written for the flute. Adaptations from the violin or violoncello are generally unsuited to the flute and do not bring out its best effects; they are, as a rule, too tame. Light, sparkling, bravura songs, with arpeggios and echoing, or imitative passages between voice and flute, are the most effective.

The majority of songs with flute obligato—from Handel's Sweet Bird (Il Penseroso) to Terschak's Nightingale—refer more or less directly to birds; but an attempt to reproduce their song is dangerous, and one feels inclined to say with Philip of Macedon, "I prefer the nightingale herself." Many were specially composed for great singers, and are too high and florid for ordinary voices; but amongst those of a simpler character and within average powers, Laville's The Brookside, De Jong's Twilight Carol, and Madame Chaminade's Portrait (for a tenor voice) deserve mention.


  1. Such as Reinecke's Undine (op. 167), Concerto, and Ballade; H. Hoffmann's Concertstuck Macfarren's Concerto and Sonata, Buchner's eight concertos, Prout's sonata (op. 17), Mde. Chaminade's Concertino, Vinning's Andante and Tarentelle, and the Suites of Godard, Widor, and E. German.
  2. Lord Byron himself played it, and in 1848 Byron's flute was offered to Charles Dickens, who declined the offer, as he could not play that instrument himself and had nobody in his household who could.
  3. In fairness, however, it should be mentioned that several of them, notably Tulou and Demersseman, also wrote some music of a better stamp.