Rossini and His Overtures

by Georg Predota, Interlude

Rossini’s Otello

We celebrate Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) as one of the most successful and popular operatic composers of his time. And although you might never have actually seen or heard a complete Rossini opera, I am sure you know a good many of his overtures. In fact, the overtures have long been staples of the orchestral repertory and much more frequently performed than the operas to which they belong. It is a curious situation in that the reputation of his dramas has never equaled the sweetness “of their melodies, the richness of their harmonies, the brilliance of their orchestration, and the power of their rhythms.” We do know that almost all of his overtures make use of musical elements and melodies that appear somewhere in the opera, which begs the question if Rossini composed the overture before or after he had completed the opera? According to legend, that’s exactly the question a young composer asked Rossini, who described six different ways of composing overtures. Rossini apparently said, “I composed the overture to Otello in a little room in which that most ferocious of all managers, Barbaja, shut me up with a dish of macaroni and told me that he would let me out only after the last note of the overture had been written.” As a point of reference, Otello was first performed in Naples at the Teatro del Fondo in 1816, and the notorious Barbaja was indeed involved. As far as the overture goes, this one was clearly written after the opera had been completed.

Rossini’s La Gazza Ladra

The same process was apparently at work with the overture to La Gazza Ladra (The Thieving Magpie). Rossini reports that he “wrote the overture to Gazza Ladra, on the very day of the first performance of the opera in the wings of the Scala Theatre in Milan. The manager had put me under the guard of four stagehands who were ordered to throw down the music pages, sheet by sheet, to copyist seated below. As the manuscript was copied, it was sent page by page to the conductor who then rehearsed the music. If I had failed to keep the production going fast, my guards were instructed to throw me in person down to the copyists.” Fortunately, Rossini was able to keep up, and therefore managed to witness the huge success of the opera. Rossini himself was thrilled by his opera and a few days after the première wrote in an excited letter to his mother “that it was so full of music that one could make three or four operas from it,” and that it was “the most beautiful music I have written so far.”

Rossini’s The Barber of Seville

Rossini’s opera buffa The Barber of Seville is primarily known today for its rousing overture. However, the premiere on 20 February 1816 at the Teatro Argentina in Rome was a disaster! The next day Rossini wrote to his mother, “Last night my opera was staged and it was solemnly booed, what mad, what extraordinary things are to be seen in this country. I will tell you that in the midst of it all the music is very fine and already people are talking about its second evening when the music will be heard, something that did not happen last night, from the beginning to the end without the constant noise accompanying the whole performance.” Rossini was entirely correct about the second performance, as it was an unqualified triumph. But how did Rossini compose the famous overture? He writes, “I made my task easier in the case of the overture to the Barber of Seville, which I left unwritten; instead I made use of the overture to my opera Elisabetta, which is a very serious opera, whereas the Barber of Seville is a comic opera.” In fact, the overture is actually twice re-cycled as he had originally written it for the opera Aureliano in Palmira of 1813.

Rossini’s Le Comte Ory

Rossini’s fourth opera for Paris, Le Comte Ory, was first staged at the Paris Opéra in August 1828. Set in thirteenth-century France, the opera deals with the attempts of Count Ory to woo the Countess Adèle, whose husband is away on a crusade. There is much disguising—including hermits and nuns—and everybody manages to run away just before the husband of the Countess returns. The “Introduction” is well matched to the plot, its outer sections suggesting the Count’s cunning exploits, with a martial passage at its heart, the returning opening section ending in the plucked notes of the strings.” How did Rossini go about composing the “Introduction?” According to the composer, “I composed the overture to the Comte Orly while fishing in the company of a Spanish musician who the whole time talked incessantly about the Spanish political situation.” Really doesn’t tell us much about the creative process, but it’s a nice anecdote nevertheless.

Rossini’s William Tell

When we talk about instrumental favorites in contemporary concert halls, we invariably stumble across the overture to William Tell. While the opera itself has been largely forgotten, the overture owns much of its popularity to varied incorporations within expressions of popular culture. Let’s not be deceived, however, because the popular appeal of Rossini’s William Tell Overture was instantaneous. It was immediately published independently from the opera, and Franz Liszt promptly fashioned his famous piano transcription. Rossini tells us that he “composed the overture to William Tell in the lodgings on the Boulevard Montmartre filled night and day with a crowd of people smoking, drinking, talking, singing, and bellowing in my ears while I was laboring on the music.”

Rossini’s Mosè in Egitto

If that little anecdote is true, Rossini must not have been easily distracted, except possibly by food. But his answer also indicates that composing was not always easy. Rossini confirms that notion by stating, “I never composed any overture to my opera Moses, which is the easiest way of all.”

Schubert’s Illness and His Last Piano Sonatas

by Georg Predota, Interlude

Franz Schubert

On 19 November 1828, Franz Schubert died at the age of 31 in his brother’s flat in Vienna. He had been seriously ill for some time, with the primary symptoms of syphilis presenting themselves as early as December 1822. Premonitions of death consistently haunted Schubert following his diagnosis, and he wrote to a close friend, “I feel myself to be the most unhappy and wretched creature in the world. Imagine a man whose health will never be right again, a man whose most brilliant hopes have perished, to whom love and friendship have nothing to offer but pain, whose enthusiasm for all things beautiful is gone, and I ask you, is he not a miserable, unhappy being? Each night, on retiring to bed, I hope I may not wake again, and each morning but recalls yesterday’s grief.” His physical and mental health oscillated between hope and despair, and Schubert took to bed with a fever on 5 November. Suffering from tertiary syphilis and the effects of highly toxic mercury treatment, Schubert passed away at 3pm on 19 November. His final and horribly painful days in November 1828 included bouts of delirium, ceaseless singing, and moments of great lucidity when he was working on his compositions. Astonishingly, with the period between the spring and autumn of 1828, Schubert composed his last major compositions for solo piano, the sonatas D 958, 959 and 960. 

Portrait of Schubert by 3D Sculptor Hadi Karimi

Schubert’s three last sonatas are “cyclically interconnected by diverse structural, harmonic and melodic elements tying together all movements in each sonata, as well as the three sonatas, respectively; consequently, they are often regarded as a trilogy. By including specific allusions to his earlier compositions, Schubert appears to have crafted three highly personal and autobiographical works. Scholars and researchers have even suggested that the sonatas follow specific psychological narratives. In musical and structural terms, all three sonatas share a common dramatic arc, “making considerable use of cyclic motives and tonal relationships, and weave specific musical ideas into the developing narrative.” Each sonata unfolds in four movements, with the exposition of the opening movements exploring two or three thematic and tonal areas. Themes are irregularly constructed and digress into far-flung harmonic regions. Development sections violently plunge the listener into new tonal areas, and a new theme based “on a melodic fragment is presented over recurrent rhythmic figuration, and then developed, undergoing successive transformations.” The opening movements of all three sonatas resolve all internal conflicts and conclude in quiet peacefulness.”

Schubert at the Piano – Gustav Klimt (1899)

The slow movements of all three sonatas are cast in tonally remote keys, and feature two contrasting sections in key and character. In his third movements, Schubert references dances, including “playful figurations for the right hand and abrupt changes in register.” The themes of Schubert’s Finale movements are characterized by “long passages of melody accompanied by relentless flowing rhythms.” Structural and musical similarities aside, the last Schubert sonatas illustrate powerfully emotional states with the music weaving in and out of dreams and memories. Given the proximity of these sonatas to Schubert’s death, they have been read against a background of a psychological or biographical narrative.

Schubert’s death mask

It has been suggested that the sonatas “portray a protagonist going through successive stages of alienation, banishment, exile, and eventual homecoming, or self-assertion. Discrete tonalities or tonal strata, appearing in complete musical segregation from one another at the beginning of each sonata, suggest contrasting psychological states, such as reality and dream, home and exile, etc.; these conflicts are further deepened in the ensuing slow movements. Once these contrasts are resolved at the finale by intensive musical integration and the gradual transition from one tonality to the next, a sense of reconciliation, of acceptance and homecoming, is invoked.” It is entirely plausible that the sonatas do convey Schubert’s feelings of loneliness and alienation, and that the process of composition became a kind of psychological therapy. And if you are looking for a depressing postscript, the sonatas D 958, 959 and 960 were not even published until ten years after Schubert’s death, and they were greatly neglected in the 19th century.

McDonald’s tweeted ‘All I Want for Christmas’ as music notes and got trolled by Mariah Carey

Mariah Carey sets the record straight. Picture: Alamy

By Sophia Alexandra Hall

@sophiassocials

 

G - B - D - F - G - F - D - B - G - C - D - G - D

Ah, Christmas; the smell of French fries, ketchup packets, and a Big Mac in a pear tree.

Or at least that’s what McDonald’s wants you to think of, as it announced its Christmas menu collaboration for 2021 last night.

The cryptic message G - B - D - F - G - F - D - B - G - C - D - G - D was posted on Twitter, and fans were unsurprisingly puzzled.

Some Twitter users immediately started guessing what the global fast-food giant was trying to say.

One fan questions if the sequence holds the secret to the meaning of life... Picture: Twitter

Others, such as American singer-songwriter Charlie Puth, used this as an opportunity to ask that their favourite McDonald’s meal item remain on the menu forever...

Then, musical fans in the comments section began to realise the sequence could actually be musical, and many took to their pianos to figure the melody out.

But it wasn’t until this tweet from the Christmas queen, Mariah Carey herself, that everyone began to realize what had happened.

G - B - D - F# - G - F# - D - B - G - C - D - G - D are the notes (in G major) which open the Christmas classic, Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You.

The 13 notes are played on a glockenspiel as an introduction to the four-minute anthem.

As well as accidentally giving the public a lesson in how accidentals can change the entire context of a song, McDonald’s used the tweet to launch their Christmas menu collaboration with Carey this December.

“Just like McDonald’s brings people around the table with their favourite orders, Mariah’s music connects us all during this time of the year,” said McDonald’s USA Vice President Jennifer Healan. “We’re so excited to team up to bring even more holiday cheer to our fans.”

Starting on 13 December, McDonald’s customers in the US will be able to access a Twelve Days of Christmas-inspired ‘Mariah Menu’ of free food, if they spend a minimum of $1 on the fast-food chain’s app.

Will Smith recalls Fresh Prince cast ‘went silent’

... as he played Beethoven on piano in improvised scene

By Sophia Alexandra Hall, ClassicFM London

@sophiassocials

 

Will Smith looks back at the off-script scene where he surprised the pilot cast of Fresh Prince by performing Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’ on piano.

In the pilot episode of the 90s American sitcom television series The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Will Smith performs Beethoven’s Für Elise on the piano for his onscreen Uncle Phil, played by James Avery.

The iconic scene is a fan-favourite, but until now, not many people knew that this scene was completely improvised.

In chapter three of Will Smith’s self-titled memoir, he reveals that he went against the crew’s directions for the original episode ending.

“The producers had originally planned on me sitting with my back to the piano so they could push the camera in on my face as I pondered the profundity of Uncle Phil's closing words,” writes Smith. “But when I sat down, I faced the piano, and began playing Mom-Mom’s favorite, Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’.”

James Avery and Will Smith on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Picture: Alamy

The tense scene begins with Smith’s character exchanging tense words with Uncle Phil, as Smith accuses his uncle of forgetting his roots and where he comes from.

Phil replies, “Before you criticise somebody, you find out what he’s all about”, and ends the conversation by leaving Smith alone in the room after he refuses to listen to Smith’s side of story, therefore not taking his own advice.

When Smith starts playing the piano after his uncle has left, Phil returns to the doorway, unbeknownst to Smith’s character.

He watches on in subdued shock for a few moments, as he realises he may have misjudged Smith, and taps his hand thoughtfully against the doorframe as if he’s going to say something, before leaving once again.

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air ran from 1990-1996. Picture: Getty

Prior to the scene, Smith says that no one in the cast knew that the actor had previously had piano lessons. So when he started playing, “the set went silent as everyone realized this show was about to be special”.

Smith recalls: “The point of the scene had been to never judge a book by its cover. The producers were so inspired by this improvisational moment that they kept it, and it became the defining thematic premise of the entire series.”

And fans are in agreement with this inspirational moment. One commenter on an upload of the scene to YouTube remarks, “I love the ending of this scene. Uncle Phil sees potential in Will and misjudged him like he told Will not to.”

To find out that this heartfelt ending is completely improvised is just one of the reasons the show remains a beloved fan-favourite, and it’s easy to see how the show quickly became America’s highest-rated new sitcom in its first season.

My passion of music (VI)

Why Mozart music is good for the brain?

The study found the subjects who listened to Mozart showed significantly increased spatial reasoning skills for at least 10-15 minutes. The finding since led crèches in the United States to start playing classical music to children.

While studying during my high school time, I really found out that listening Mozart was indeed a great help.

The Mozart effect is the theory that listening to Mozart's music can induce a short-term improvement on the performance of certain kinds of cognitive tasks and processes. ... The researchers found that listening to Mozart's music did enhance word memory across positive, negative and neutral words.

One of the most tenacious myths in parenting is the so-called Mozart effect, which says that listening to music by the Austrian composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart can increase a child's intelligence. 

Claudia Hammond wrote about it on 2013: "It is said that classical music could make children more intelligent, but when you look at the scientific evidence, the picture is more mixed.

You have probably heard of the Mozart effect. It’s the idea that if children or even babies listen to music composed by Mozart they will become more intelligent. A quick internet search reveals plenty of products to assist you in the task. Whatever your age there are CDs and books to help you to harness the power of Mozart’s music, but when it comes to scientific evidence that it can make you more clever, the picture is more mixed". 

Well, after a short period of time, I really looked "for more". And suddenly "Master" Ludwig van Beethoven stepped into my musical life". "Dadadadaan..."

I strongly agree with François Mai, who wrote: "Beethoven was the first of the romantic period composers who dominated classical music during the 19th century. He himself was a passionate man who carried his feelings on his sleeve. He had episodes of depression accompanied by suicidal ideas, and rarer episodes of elation with flights of ideas. The latter are reflected in some of his letters. He had a low frustration tolerance and at times would become so angry that he would come to blows with others such as his brother Carl, or he would throw objects at his servants. Although he never married, he had several affairs, including one with a married woman who has come to be known to posterity as ‘the Unknown Beloved’. To her he wrote three love letters that are filled with affection and feeling. He much enjoyed wine and this resulted in hepatic cirrhosis that caused his premature death at the age of 56.

This moodiness is reflected in his music. The ‘Marches Funébres’ of his Third Symphony (Eroica) and the Piano Sonata, op. 26, no. 12, are poignant and powerful portrayals of grief and bereavement. The final movement of the String Quartet, no. 6, op. 18 (La Malinconia) has sudden and alternating changes of tempo and rhythm that depict, in musical terms, the mood changes that occur in bipolar disorder. The pace and fortissimo dynamics of both his Rondo a Capriccio for piano, op. 129 and the storm movement of his Sixth Symphony (Pastoral Symphony) beautifully (or perhaps one should also say fearfully) display anger and agitation.

Beethoven's and my moodiness remain the same until today.

Well, during the last 30 years, I met most all of my classical masters. This could be a never- ending story. My passion of music is one of my life's part. Maybe, the main part. 

Classical Romance: The Sweetest Love Stories of Classical Music Composers

by Hermione Lai, Interlude

© Carnegie Hall Corporation

I am not a great fan of tabloid or boulevard journalism. Surely you have seen these colourful publications at checkout counters in your local supermarket and elsewhere. Most carry outrageous headlines of alien invasions or some poor souls doing something unspeakable to themselves or other. But I must confess, when it comes to love and romance stories involving the rich, handsome and famous, I get all excited. Please don’t blame me. Tales of classical romance are not a new invention, as everybody wanted to know about the love life of yesteryear’s superstar, including classical music composers. So we decided to take a look at the most famous glamour couples in classical music. Get ready for some classical romance involving 10 famous classical music composers.

Gustav Mahler and Alma Schindler:

Gustav Mahler and Alma Schindler

Alma Schindler was Vienna’s most desired bachelorette at the turn of the 20th century, and she knew it. She was utterly obsessed by a sense of entitlement that the world owed her something in return for her brilliance and her beauty. She was well read, highly educated, and an accomplished pianist and composer. Alma was drawn to older men with artistic credentials, intellect, creativity, and money, and she attracted them like flies. Gustav Mahler was engaged as conductor at the imperial opera, and they had a huge argument when they first met at a dinner party. Mahler was conducting an opera of her ex-lover Alexander Zemlinsky, and Alma told him exactly what he should do. They couldn’t agree and met at the opera the following day to iron out their differences. A whirlwind courtship soon ensued, and Gustav proposed marriage on 21 December 1901. The couple was formally married at a private ceremony on 9 March 1902, with Alma already carrying their first child, Maria Anna. The relationship wasn’t a bed of roses, but Mahler composed the famous “Adagietto” from his 5th Symphony as a love song without words for Alma. Classical romance doesn’t get any better than that, don’t you think? Johann Sebastian Bach and Anna Magdalena Wilcke:

Johann Sebastian Bach and Anna Magdalena Wilcke

When Johann Sebastian Bach returned to Cöthen from a lengthy trip to Carlsbad, he was told that his wife Maria Barbara Bach had died at the age of 36. Carl Philip Emanuel reports, “My father returned to find her dead and already buried.” It was a tremendous shock not only to Johann Sebastian, but also to four motherless children. Johann Sebastian dealt with his grief by composing tirelessly, and for special feast days singers from nearby Courts were enlisted to strengthen the local choir. One such singer was Anna Magdalena Wilcke, and a classical romance soon ensued. They were first seen together as godparents at a child’s christening. Bach was 36 and Anna Magdalena 20, and apparently he was attracted by her fine soprano voice, among other things. The couple married on 3 December 1721, and to celebrate the occasion, Bach went twice to the city cellars and bought two small casks of Rhine wine. Anna Magdalena was an accomplished musician and deeply involved in her husband’s musical tasks. To show his appreciation, Johann Sebastian put together a little notebook of music specifically dedicated to his wife. Recently, it has been suggested that it was Anna Magdalena who actually composed some of the pieces in this little notebook. How delightful, two classical music composers and lovers writing music for each other.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Constanze Weber:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Constanze Weber

Among classical music composers, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart rates as one of the top musical geniuses. And his classical romance with Constanze Weber was definitely a high-profile topic for the tabloid press. Mind you, Mozart’s eye initially fell on Aloysia Weber, Constanze’s sister. She was a well-known soprano and became Mozart’s student and lover. He really wanted to marry her, but his father sent him on a long tour to Paris. When he came back several months later, Aloysia pretended that she didn’t even know him. As you can imagine, Mozart wasn’t particularly happy and he had some choice words for his ex-lover. Her sister Constanze wasn’t even on his radar, but all that changed when he became a lodger in the Weber household in Vienna. Mozart wanted to stay for only a week, but as he fell in love with 19-year-old Constanze, he stayed for several months. Her mother wasn’t happy about the courtship and neither was Mozart’s father. The couple broke up for a short period of time but got married on 4 August 1782 at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. Mozart writes to his father, “Tell me whether I could wish for a better wife.” Constanze was a trained singer, and her husband wrote several compositions specifically for her clear soprano voice.

Ludwig van Beethoven and Therese Malfatti:

Ludwig van Beethoven and Therese Malfatti

Ludwig van Beethoven wasn’t lucky in love. I think it was actually his own fault. He kept falling in love with women of high social standings, or women already married to somebody else. And let’s not forget the countless times he fell in love with his beautiful and young students. Therese Malfatti was 18 and Ludwig 40, and it seems that he mistook her admiration and devotion to be love. Beethoven was actually serious about marrying Therese, because he asked a good friend to forward his birth certificate from Bonn, which would have been required for marriage. An anecdote tells of the story when Beethoven was invited to the Malfatti household in 1810 to a cocktail party. Beethoven apparently wanted to propose to Therese and composed a special bagatelle for her. In the event, Beethoven got seriously drunk and forgot all about playing or proposing. He never summoned the courage to ask for her hand in marriage again, and Therese married an Austrian nobleman in 1816. Beethoven writes, “Now fare you well, respected Therese. I wish you all the good and beautiful things of this life. Bear me in memory—no one can wish you a brighter, happier life than I—even should it be that you care not at all for your devoted servant and friend.” How is that for a classical romance that never was?

Robert Schumann and Clara Wieck:

Robert and Clara Schumann, 1847

Among classical music composers, the love story of Robert Schumann and Clara Wieck is unique and touching. Schumann initially moved to Leipzig to study law, but soon found that he wanted to take piano lessons from Friedrich Wieck, probably the most prominent teacher in Leipzig at that time. As was customary, Schumann moved into the house of his piano teacher and really enjoyed his time in the big city, and with the servant girls. At the same time, Wieck was grooming his daughter Clara to become a star pianist, and he controlled every aspect of her life. He not only coached her musically, but also dressed her and even wrote her diary for her. Robert was twenty-five when he fell in love with sixteen-year old Clara. Wieck wanted his daughter to stay well clear of Schumann, and when they got secretly engaged in 1836, he threatened to shoot Robert if Clara should ever mention his name again. He also scheduled Clara’s next musical appearances far away from Leipzig. In the end, the matter went before the courts and after a long period of nasty legal battles and bitter fights, Robert Schumann finally married Clara Wieck on 12 September 1840, the day before her 21st birthday. That’s what I call a classical romance with a happy end; at least initially.

Johannes Brahms and Clara Schumann:

Johannes Brahms and Clara Schumann

In the history of classical music composers, Robert Schumann, Clara Schumann, and Johannes Brahms are surely the most famous love triangle. Brahms first visited the Schumann’s in 1853, and Robert helped him to get his career started. Robert had been hearing voices in his head for some time, and after attempting to take his own life he was admitted to a mental hospital. Brahms rushed to Clara’s side and was allocated a bedroom on a separate floor in the Schumann house. He was head over heels in love with Clara, but the situation was seriously messy. Schumann was Brahms’ hero, Clara was taking care of seven children, and then there was the age gap. She was 35 and Brahms was 21, and both were raked by feelings of anxiety and guilt. Every tabloid wanted to know if they actually had become lovers, and that question is still debated today. For what it’s worth, I don’t think they ever did because in Brahms’ mind Clara had become a saintly figure that stood well above earthly matter. And we do know that he had the deepest respect for her as an artist and as a woman. Once Robert died in 1856, Brahms and Clara were free to marry, however, Brahms ruthlessly turned her away. Neither of them married anybody else, and they retained an inescapable platonic connection for the rest of their lives. Clara focused on her performances and Brahms became a grumpy old composer.

Franz Liszt and Marie d’Agoult:

Franz Liszt and Marie d’Agoult

When we talk about classical romance among classical music composers the name Franz Liszt automatically receives top billing. The tabloid press absolutely loved him, and reports of his serial conquests made headlines wherever he went. Generally portrayed as a wicked womanizer, Liszt actually seemed to have preferred stable long-term relationships. And one of the most important relationships of his early life brought him together with the Countess Marie Catherine Sophie d’Agoult. She was married to an ancient and crusty war veteran, and she sang in a women’s choir in 1833. The guest of honor was the spectacular pianist Franz Liszt. Marie writes in her memoirs, “I use apparition because I can find no other word to describe the sensation aroused in me by the most extraordinary person I had ever seen. He was tall and extremely thin. His face was pale and his large sea-green eyes shone like a wave when the sunlight catches it. Franz spoke with vivacity and with an originality that awoke a whole world slumbering in me.” Marie had been slumbering for sure, as she described herself as “six inches of snow covering twenty feet of lava.” Since Marie was married, they had to leave Paris and in the second volume of “Years of Pilgrimage,” Franz Liszt musically recalled some of the emotionally fulfilling days of traveling with Marie. The couple had a number of children, and Cosima Liszt, born in December 1837, is part of our next famous classical romance.

Richard Wagner and Cosima Liszt-Bülow:

Richard Wagner and Cosima Liszt-Bülow

Talking about another famous love triangle involving classical music composers. Cosima Liszt had a difficult childhood. She was an illegitimate child and her father a traveling virtuoso. Liszt and the Countess Marie d’Agoult had long separated, and that separation hadn’t been amicable at all. As such, Cosima was first raised by Liszt’s mother, and then placed into the care of Franziska von Bülow. Her son Hans was one of Liszt’s best students and he fell in love with Cosima. Franz Liszt was delighted and the couple married in August 1857. During their honeymoon they visited Richard Wagner in Zürich, as Hans had seduced the teenage Cosima to the strain of Wagner’s Tannhäuser. A social relationship developed quickly, and Hans became one of the most enthusiastic supporters of Wagner’s music. That enthusiasm was strained however, when Wagner—who was still married to Minna—and Cosima became lovers in 1862. In due course, Cosima gave birth to three Wagner children, and she obtained a divorce from Bülow in 1870. Wagner’s wife had since passed away, and thus Richard and Cosima married in August 1870. Cosima was completely devoted to her husband’s artistic cause, and they settled in the small town of Bayreuth. The first Wagner Festival took place in 1873, and Bülow became one of the most enthusiastic supporters of Brahms’ music. The mysterious ways of classical romance make for some very interesting stories.

Hector Berlioz and Harriet Smithson:

Hector Berlioz and Harriet Smithson

On rare occasions, an important classical romance is actually translated into music. Such is the case with Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique, an autobiographical and self-confessional work. It is a symphonic exposé of his unrequited love for the Irish Actress Harriet Smithson. He first saw her in the role of “Ophilia” in Shakespeare’s Hamlet during the 1827-1828 Season. Berlioz was immediately besotted with Harriet, and his obsession grew into a proper act of stalking. He sent her flowers, wrote her numerous letters and even rented an apartment near hers so he could watch her coming and going. And Harriet predictably avoided him like the plague! Berlioz confessed that he “pined for her, lusted for her, suffered, hankered, thirsted and ached for her, and he dreamt of no one but her.” And Berlioz began writing Harriet into his music as well. Essentially, the Symphony Fantastique of 1830 is about an artist who is madly in love with a woman who does not know he exists. He invited Harriet to the premiere, but she did not show up. It took Harriet almost two years to understand that this symphony, and the sequel Lélio, was all about her. She now contacted Berlioz, and he came for a visit. They finally became lovers and were married in October 1833 at the British Embassy in Paris. Imagination tends to be much easier to handle than reality, and this classical romance turned sour in a real hurry.

Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears:

Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears

For a classical romance of more recent times we turn to Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears. Pears had won a scholarship to the Royal College of Music in London, and through a mutual friend, was introduced to Benjamin. A strong friendship quickly developed, and within weeks of their first meeting Britten composed a song for Pear’s tenor voice and strings. They moved in together shortly thereafter, and by the time they arrived in the New World in 1939, they had become lovers. Their highly affectionate personal and professional relationship lasted for almost forty years, until Britten’s death in 1976. Peter Pears was Britten’s great love, but he was also his great inspiration. As such he featured prominently in many of Britten’s works, including Peter Grimes, Albert Herring, The Turn of the Screw, and the War Requiem. The couple also founded the Aldeburgh Festival in 1948, and established the Britten-Pears Young Artist Programme. Neither Pears nor Britten ever spoke publically about their relationship or sexuality. You can’t really blame them, as homosexuality was illegal in Britain until 1967. Pears summed up the relationship in 1980, “ours was not the story of one man. It was a life of the two of us.”