Join us to explore Felix Mendelssohn's life through 4 different aspects of life that separated him from nearly every other composer. John Banther and James Jacobs explore his life, what made him different, and enjoy a full performance of one of his iconic works too!
I'm John Banther, and this is Classical Breakdown. From WETA Classical in Washington, we are your guide to classical music. In this episode, I'm joined by WETA Classical's James Jacobs, and we're talking about the life and music of Felix Mendelssohn, who did way more to influence the music industry than you realize. From reviving a forgotten Baroque composer, inventing a new concert format, shaping art in Britain, to Bugs Bunny, we have a lot to explore. Plus, stay with us to the end for a full performance of one of his most popular works. Okay, James, this episode was recommended by someone in person, actually, at an Embassy Series concert you and I were actually at a few weeks ago with other WETA Classical hosts. It was a nice concert, and afterwards, Linda and I were talking, and this woman came up to us and immediately started talking about the podcast, which is always fine. That's always fine with me, and she said, " Hey, how come you haven't done an episode on Felix Mendelssohn? You did one on his sister, Fanny, but you haven't done one on him yet. I love this composer." She really mentioned how much she loves him and said, " I think maybe you have a bias against Mendelssohn," which was quite funny in the moment, and I did concede for a second, " Well, maybe a little." I don't listen to his recordings all the time, but I love Mendelssohn's chamber music. It's just that the symphonies don't always set me up for what I'm really expecting in the symphony, so to say, but I love the chamber works, and most everything.
Oh, right, and I think that's been an issue with Mendelssohn really even during his lifetime, when people didn't quite know what to make of him. It occurs to me, I can kind of relate to Mendelssohn sort of in the same way that I relate to Mahler and Leonard Bernstein, these composers. I mean, maybe it's a little bit the Jewish thing, but I think that's not really the main thing. I think the main thing is this kind of tension between loving music as a fan, as a listener, and as a performer of other people's music, and also loving the process of creating music, and what does that mean, to own music and to own a relationship to that? I think Mendelssohn definitely had that, and he actually had that more as he got older and became a professional conductor. One of the extraordinary things about Mendelssohn, which we'll get to in a moment, is that in a way, he evolved more like a scientist than an artist, in the sense that I think some of his most brilliant ideas came at him when he was young. As he got older, he got perhaps a little bit more conventional, but yeah, the same thing. I mean, I'm a cellist. Mendelssohn's cello sonatas are delightful pieces.
I love it.
Do you program them on a recital with real estate that could go to a weightier Beethoven sonata, or a more lyrical Chopin sonata or something? It's hard to say, and what do you do with a 45- minute performance of the Scottish Symphony, as opposed ... This has been an ongoing debate about Mendelssohn.
We're going to explore his life and his music through five different points. Here we have Mendelssohn, the prodigy. Then we have, Mendelssohn revives Bach, Mendelssohn, the inventor in Leipzig, Mendelssohn goes to Britain, and then finally we'll talk about his death, legacy, and a few things maybe you didn't know. I love, James, how it sounds like these little titles, or they sound like the titles to Mr. Bean episodes. Mr. Bean Revives Bach, or something funny like that.
Yes. Well, Mendelssohn was definitely a character, and it's interesting to know, and even after all this time, it's kind of hard to get a precise portrait of who he is. I think he's more of an enigma to us than, say, even Bach or Mozart.
Yeah, I found that quite interesting, and we'll jump in with the first one now, Mendelssohn, the prodigy, and also, I should say, will hear a full work of Mendelssohn's at the end, too. The first section here, Mendelssohn the prodigy, just to set the scene here, Felix was born on February 3rd, 1809, in Hamburg, and then the family moved to Berlin in 1811, and the family was quite wealthy, quite well respected. His grandfather was a very famous philosopher, and so you can imagine with this kind of family, the children have an education like none other. They're surrounded by well- known artists and scientists. He starts taking piano lessons at age six. He starts studying composition with the very well- known Carl Friedrich Zelter in Berlin, and basically everywhere I look, James, everywhere I read, it's talking about Felix at this time really being an out- sized prodigy, kind of like none other, more than Mozart, even.
Oh, absolutely. As you say, he was surrounded by all this, just story geniuses. In fact, one of them was Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the great poet that you may know. He wrote Faust and many other works, and the texts for half the leader of the 19th century. He got to hear both Mozart and Mendelssohn perform when they were children, and according to him, Mendelssohn was the greater prodigy. In fact, he said that the difference between the two of them was the difference between hearing a very gifted child, like Mozart, and hearing an adult speaking through the body of a child, and that in some way Mendelssohn was born grown- up, whereas Mozart famously never grew up, except through his music. Of course, Goethe worshiped Mozart and lamented that he never got to collaborate with him, so that's a lot coming from Goethe, that he recognized this in Mendelssohn, and Mendelssohn's early works may well be the greatest works ever written by someone so young. A staple of classical radio are his string symphonies which he wrote, and it's interesting because Mendelssohn later in life, when he realized that people, that they had gotten out, actually, I mean, he said, "No, no, no, no, they're juvenalia. Don't play them. They're not meant to ... " He didn't like the fact that people played them, and it's true that they're sort of derivative, because that's what they're supposed to be when you're writing a piece when you're 10 years old. You try to copy your elders.
They're kind of short, too. They're 10 to 15 minutes.
They're short, but they have their own personality and they make for fine listening, and it's really extraordinary. If this is his way of going to school, it was a fine way of learning the technique of writing for string instruments and figuring out the architecture of sonata form and symphonic composition.
Yeah. I mean, one of the important things I think you've said is that he was born an adult in this child's body, because when you listen to these string symphonies, which he wrote when he was 12, 13, or 14, looking at number three for example, it has an opening line that is way more than I expect from a 12 or 13- year- old. Not that they can't write something in minor and intense, but it's not just a few tunes going through some expected chord changes. Rather, there's a lot more happening here, and I was actually going to say, James, before I was listening to more of the string symphonies, because I definitely did kind of brush them aside for a long time, I thought, " Oh, James probably played all of these in youth orchestra," when you're really, really young, but then I'm listening to number three, and I think, " Well, maybe not when you're 12 or 13."
Well, actually, they're kind of difficult. I mean, Mendelssohn wrote very, from the beginning, he wrote very technically challenging music, for both piano and strings. I mean, it takes a lot to perform, even his very earliest music, and it's extraordinary. I mean, part of it, I mean, to be honest, is the fact that he was sort of advised that if you want people to play your music, it has to make them look like virtuosos. It was easier to sell music that showed off the performer, so he was savvy. It was sort of a marketing savvy that he had, from the very, very beginning, but as you say, it's not just good for a 12- year- old. I mean, there are many composers who couldn't pull off something like this even as adults.
Yes, so that's 1821, some of his youngest stuff. If we just go forward a few more years, we get to another great work that is still in the repertoire, the Octet for Strings. He's 16 years old. This one just sounds even more engaging, and I mean, it's easy to just say, " Well, it's just a great work and fun to listen to," but it's an unusual first as well, because there's not that many octet examples before this, I think. It reminds me of when you said he was kind of like a scientist. He has all these genius ideas when he's young. " I'm just going to write this octet and make all these voices speak very clearly," in a way even better than the string symphonies.
There really is something about this fad that came around in the early 19th century of writing large chamber works, like Beethoven's Septet and the Schubert's Octet, and this Octet for Strings by Mendelssohn. Again, it was sort of a bit marketing savvy. I've played the Octet. I played it when I was 16, in fact, and it is so fun to play in a group, in a room full of people, eight musicians, and yet you still have your own line to play. I mean, it's so thrilling. I mean, because in an orchestra there is, especially for the string players, there is a sense that you kind of get, it's almost more like being in a chorus. You kind of get lost in the shuffle and you're sort of part of the group, but to have your own thing going on in a group of eight musicians is absolutely extraordinary. I mean, I guess it's a little bit like those Dixieland bands where everybody had their own minds going on in this incredible polyphony, but the Octet is so much fun to play and it's really not like anything else. You can hear, and even though it's fully mature, you can also hear him kind of as a teenager just having fun with it. It's a very fun, fun, fun work.
Something we see in his music already at this point, and actually, we so often go back to hear music from a composer's first work. Do we see any seeds of anything? No, for Mendelssohn, it's kind of like, well, it's already mostly here, but with the Octet, we really see a great example of him being able to write a line that can just float on top of chaotic accompaniment. The solo line can be mezzo forte, maybe even mezzo piano, while something much more intense that would usually you would think cover it up is happening underneath, but he writes it in such a way that is, I guess, idiomatic in that it just kind of floats and sings without having to work.
Yeah, I mean, it feels like he was kind of anticipating Richard Strauss by almost a century, in his ability to do this.
Yeah, on a really smaller, small scale.
Yeah, exactly, because nobody else is really doing stuff like that, this kind of really intense orchestral textures, exploring these inner lines and these inner lives]. You're really creating a world. It's sort of like all these different elements coming together and it's just fascinating. Again, it feels like a sort of quasi- scientific mind that created this piece.
Yeah. Now, just a year later, he writes his overture on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I understand this was tremendously influential, not just, well, it's a great piece of music and it influences other composers, but that it actually influenced art itself in Britain, all the fairies and the fairy realm. I feel like today, we are so far removed. It's hard to naturally think of that, but when you start and you see some of the pictures of that time, you really start to hear this a little bit differently. Maybe you can talk about this aspect.
Well, I mean, for Shakespeare, fairies were not dainty little girls with wings. Fairies were powerful shape- shifters, right, and in the original production of A Midsummer Night's Dream back in 1595 or whenever it was, all of Shakespeare's plays could be performed by 14 actors. If you break down the cast, the same people, the same actors who played the four of the fairies, Peaseblossom, Moth, Mustardseed, also played the Rude Mechanicals, the laborers. They were big beefy people, and they were powerful. I mean, they could change their shape to be as small as an atom, as Shakespeare describes it, but the whole idea of having them be sort of almost insect- like and dainty and feminine or childlike, that really came from Mendelssohn's depiction of when you hear the violins going, along with the production that he did with the incredible designs, when he turned his overture into incidental music. It was this whole idea of, " Okay, this is how it's going to be," and the fact that he wrote the fairy music for the Voices, for High Voices.
For the incidental music.
Yeah, for incidental music, which-
That came decades later?
It came decades later, but you can tell that, I mean, it's all there. I mean, it's all there in the overture. I mean, it's a complete piece in itself. I mean, the other music he wrote is great too. It's incredible how, I mean, it really takes you through the entire play. This was not a time when people wrote tone poems like this. This, I mean, pretty much invented what Berlioz and Tchaikovsky, and again, Richard Strauss and Liszt and all these other composers, including composers who claimed to not like Mendelssohn or thought that they were above Mendelssohn or whatever else, but no, Mendelssohn got there first in this piece, the overture, which goes through so many different moods, and it's so clear. It's so clear, exactly. You can hear the braying of the donkey when Bottom gets his ass's head on. I also imagine that you, as tuba player, really appreciate the ophicleide, if that's how you pronounce it.
Yes.
Which was Unprecedented. Not completely unprecedented, but the fact that he wrote for that at that time.
And before Berlioz.
Yeah, before Berlioz, and the fact that he wrote for that. It's a piece with ophicleide, but no trombones. I mean, it's-
That's unusual.
Which is very unusual, but he had such an ear already at that time, and I was just going to say that depiction of fairies really permeated, especially British culture. We're going to talk a little bit more about Mendelssohn's influence by and on Britain and their musical culture, but this lasted all the way up until JM Barrie and Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. I mean, they were sort of part of that continuum, and they certainly knew their Mendelssohn.
Those are just three works from Mendelssohn's basically teenage years that have been so influential, unlike any other composer, really, and really remain part of their repertoire. The other point I'll make for this section, James, is something that, well, you'll like as well, and that is, for him, the reported ability he had when it came to sight- reading, which is basically when someone puts music in front of you, you just play it straight away without practicing or anything. Now, this is something, as James the cellist knows, this is something that all musicians, you have to have and you have to learn, and you do all the things to do that, but then there is also what Felix Mendelssohn is doing, and apparently he had the ability to sight- read Mozart and Mozart manuscripts, even apparently Beethoven manuscripts, which I almost find hard to believe. It's almost incomprehensible, what's on the page, but he was able to do that. I know I've heard and seen one person do something similar in my entire life, and that's all I've heard of someone being able to do stuff, sight- reading at this kind of level.
I mean, I have seen incredible sight- readers. I mean, I think everybody who grows up, there's that one pianist who can just ... You put something in front of them and they can do anything, but I think the idea that he could sight- read manuscripts meant that he was thinking like a composer, and that he sort of knew the shorthand, and so he could sort of get into the mind of, " Oh yeah, that's what that messy little scribble certainly means," and that's, only a fellow composer could do that. I just want to also briefly talk about how Mendelssohn really got into the mind of Beethoven in a way that ... Even the teenage Mendelssohn, which is incredible, got into the mind of Beethoven in a way that few of his contemporaries did, maybe even none. I mean, I think all 19th- century musicians were influenced by Beethoven and sort of lifted certain tropes and certain sort of rhetorical devices from him, but Mendelssohn absorbed it in a really thorough, organic way, that it became part of his musical language and not just something he was copying because he was supposed to. He got Beethoven, and he got Mozart and Haydn. He got music and he was very fluent in that language, and of course, he was also fluent in a lot of spoken languages too, and he was also a great visual artist. I mean, he just had this mind.
We can go to our next section now, Mendelssohn revives Bach. Now, some might not even know what we're talking about or referring to here, or some might not even know to which Bach we're referring to. What do we say here, James, when Mendelssohn revives Bach? Because he's not doing CPR, singing, what's that song? Staying Alive, for Mendelssohn, but the thing is, in Mendelssohn's time, if I said Bach, you're probably not thinking of Johann Sebastian.
No, you're thinking of either Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach or Johann Christian Bach. In fact, Mozart once said Bach was the father of us all, and he meant Johann Christian Bach, but of course, Mozart actually studied with him. I mean, everybody knew that CP Bach and JC Bach as well as Wilhelm Friedman and all the other various Bach sons were part of this great dynasty that actually goes back centuries, all the way back to Martin Luther, but mostly to Johann Sebastian Bach, of course. At that time, in the early 19th century, Sebastian Bach was, he was thought of as this sort of legendary genius musician and the organist of all organists who wrote music that was difficult and impenetrable, and it took his sons to sort of translate that into more user- friendly terms.
It wasn't on concerts at all.
People weren't playing JS Bach's music at that time, but Mendelssohn had an in with Bach in terms of his great- aunt, Sarah Levy, who studied harpsichord with Wilhelm Friedman, and so he managed to, through his family connections, get copies of Bach manuscripts, including the St. Matthew Passion. I mean, this is the kind of thing that you only do when you're college age. You can get a lot of people together to do this crazy project, and that's exactly what he did. When he was 20 years old, he got all these performers together and he did his own edition of the St. Matthew Passion, and people responded to it in a very visceral, emotional way, and-
No one had heard it before, basically, at this concert. It had been decades.
No. No one, no one, no one. Of course, it would take a genius of Mendelssohn's caliber to be able to pull this off, and to even understand how to convey this music.
Also in part, James, because he's not just going to Schirmer. com and pressing buy, print, on all the perfectly copied parts. These are all written by hand. I mean, there's a lot.
He wrote it out by hand, and he also did this incredible thing, which actually is kind of genius, which is that for the Recitative, he arranged the accompaniment for four cellos. He's sometimes doing double stops as a kind of way of emulating the sound of the viola, the gamba, and the lute, doing sort of things, and he also knew that it was more acoustically viable to do that than to try to get a harpsichord out of storage somewhere, or figure out exactly how the the organ Recitative worked. He wrote it all out, and it's a beautiful arrangement, and I mean, it's such a visceral piece. It's such a directly ... Of course, when people heard it, they said, " Oh, Bach isn't remote at all, Bach is living and breathing and passionate," and Mendelssohn, he was very proud of it, and he bragged, he said, " It's amazing that it took a Jew to bring to life the greatest work of Christian art." It sparked a nonstop sort of, people wanted more Bach immediately.
There was a time, it's hard to imagine, where people weren't listening to Bach's music like the St. Matthew Passion, and took someone like Mendelssohn, who first saw it as a score as a teenager, to bring this to life. The big takeaway I take from this moment in his life, which is so profound, imagine if he did not revive this music of Bach. Maybe someone would've eventually, but I think music would be very, very different. The point here I see is that Felix is deeply respected and looked up to, even at this age of 19 or 20 years old, because, as you said, to gather all these people, to prepare the singers, the soloists in a way for a performance that they've never even heard before, cutting certain things to make it digestible, that arrangement of the Recitative, as you said, he did all of that in such an impactful way at age 20, that it was such a revelation for his own country, practically. It tells me that he was very well respected, and as you say, he had a firm grasp, beginning to end, of everything he was sticking his hands into.
Well, in a way, it also put Mendelssohn himself on the map. Not that he wasn't already known as a prodigy or as a fine composer and talented before that, but also, I mean, he was doing this in Leipzig, which is Bach's own city, as well, and so it became ... Instead of Johann Sebastian Bach being this kind of remote sort of freak of music that no one could quite get into, now he was a town hero. Now he was a national hero, now he was a municipal ... It's like it opened the gate. I'm sure that had a lot to do with his later getting the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and becoming, appointing himself to that job, too, of being a curator of the music of Leipzig.
Another work from this time period I want to mention, that he wrote while he was working on this Passion, is the Evening Bell. It's originally for harp and piano, but you can also hear it on two harps. I thought it was just a really nice piece I had not heard before of Mendelssohn's. I always love finding more of his chamber works. Well, I guess a little bit of a spoiler alert, he is 20 years old and we're already more than halfway through his life, and we're going to go to Mendelssohn the inventor right after this. Okay, James. Now it is time for, not Mr. Bean, but Mendelssohn the inventor in Leipzig. It's 1834, he's 26. He is very popular. He's turning down music posts left and right, and then the following year he finally accepts a position and he does it with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. He was their music director from 1835 to 1847, and he did some semi- important work, we can say, probably, during this time. He premiered the symphonies one, two, and four by Robert Schumann, little- known works, or Mendelssohn's own violin concerto, one of his symphonies, too. That would be the Scottish. He wrote five symphonies, most of them before he was in Leipzig, and the order of the numbers is actually by publication, not when he composed it, but it's at this time when he's in Leipzig and he writes his symphony number three, Scottish, and he premiered that in 1842, and it would be the last symphony he would see being premiered. This is another time, James, where we see the effects or the ideas that people have of these places where Mendelssohn is writing music about. Because, much like the fairies in, I guess, Britain, in England, Scotland is known as the mysterious North, the cliffs, the fog, the mist, the bogs, creatures. I don't know, but there was that idea of it, and so I found myself trying to think of that more, maybe that point of view more as I was hearing this work, which I do like. It's just not my favorite symphony.
Well, it's interesting, because I mean, we also see this in his Hebrides overture, right, as well as the third symphony, and I mean, he went there and he was fascinated by it, but I think there was a fascination, just like he was fascinated with Shakespeare, but I think the whole British Isles and also the cultural traditions, that was just something that he was drawn to as a kid. The third symphony, which in some ways is, it's probably his most ambitious symphony in terms of trying to stretch what an orchestral piece could do. I mean, he did the second symphony, which was not even really a symphony, but an oratorio, but in this symphony, he's trying to go beyond and stretch the boundaries a little bit. Of course, he was also ... I mean, he played tourist, in terms of Italy and the Italian symphony, and he definitely had this interest in going beyond the borders of his own town and traveling, either physically or through books, but also in terms of his programming at the Leipzig Gewandhaus, I mean, having a mixture of music from the past and music from the present. There's this wonderful story about him and Schumann. He did a performance of Haydn's Farewell Symphony, one of the first that had been done, and Schumann and him were discussing, " Was that supposed to be funny?" Actually-
The ending of it?
Yeah, when all the musicians walk off- stage one by one, and that didn't ... I mean, it's effective. It seems kind of melancholy. I mean, there's a description of that scene, and I don't know, for some reason that is such an amazing image to me, of Schumann and Mendelssohn sort of standing around trying to figure out Haydn. It's just, but that is kind of what they were doing in the 19th century, is trying to figure out where they were in history, I think, in terms of, " Where have we been, where are we going?" That's a unique point in the culture, because Mozart wasn't thinking that so much, Bach. I mean, they weren't thinking so much about a place ... They were thinking about, " Okay, I need to write these pieces for the subscription concerts so that I can get some money, and write this piece for church, and write this piece for the opera house," and they weren't really thinking about the timeline. This was sort of the first point in history, in musical history where, " Oh, okay, we're in this ... "
This is where-
" We're part of this continuum."
This is where Mendelssohn creates what we know as the concert format. As you said a few minutes ago, playing music that's old and new, because composers at the time, I could think of Beethoven, we see these four or five hour concerts where he'd premier two symphonies, this concert Aria, this and that, and this and that, and it's just his music, but Mendelssohn here in Leipzig will play something by Haydn or Mozart and Beethoven, and then something newer by himself or someone else. It sounds like that was just not the usual thing, still.
Not at all, so you could say that Mendelssohn invented what we call classical music, not music from the classical period, but the classical music industry. Also, in terms of, I mean, the Gewandhaus predated Mendelssohn and was this old musical institution, but in sort of terms of expanding on that and sort of, oh, so anybody from any economic class could buy a ticket and go. It wasn't just for the courtiers or the aristocracy, anyone could go see their local orchestra at work. There were also chamber music concerts, and there was this mixture of old and new and different formats, and that's something that lasts 'til this day. In so doing, he also was one of the pioneers of conducting and the art of conducting, and what that meant in terms of rehearsing an orchestra and perhaps using a baton, which was an idea that he got from Spohr, and all this sort of thing.
Well, let's mention that for a second, because that was funny. I didn't know that Mendelssohn was the one that started using a conducting baton. I guess Spohr invented it, but it was still pretty new. If I'll find a picture or a clip of a video, it's a baton, but it looks exactly like, " I'm going to pull a rabbit out of my hat," like a magic wand. It's two pounds. It was a heavy, just white rod.
Right. Yeah. I mean, the whole idea of a baton, I mean, you probably know the story about Lully and how he died of gangrene.
Well, we should tell everyone, because = he was conducting with a staff that you'd hit and he stabbed his foot.
Yes. Right, exactly, yes.
With the staff, and then ... He shouldn't have told the violins to play softer.
Yeah, exactly.
That was the problem.
Also, the idea now of a conductor making ... At the time, the noise was intentional, because he was trying to keep everybody together, but the idea now of a conductor thumping the floor ... Of course, it also seems bizarre now that you would have a two- pound stick to conduct with, but of course, you wanted it to be seen, so that there was some heft to the thing. I've also seen those light batons fly out of conductors' hands.
Multiple times.
Maybe there was some method to that, but yeah, it's interesting how that evolved, and Mendelssohn was right there at the beginning of all that. It's interesting because it's the convergence of multiple continuums and timelines in the history of music.
One piece that I want to mention from this time, it's his only published set of piano variations. I think I'm probably saying it wrong, too, Variations Sérieuses. Yeah.
Sérieuses, yeah.
It's a nice piece. It was written as part of a campaign raising funds for a Beethoven statue in the city of Bonn. I love that in part because its composers ... This music is also part of our everyday lives. As a new statue is being put up or erected, there is music by the composer and these local musicians playing for the occasion.
Right, and I think that sort of speaks to Mendelssohn's sort of knowledge, and sort of the idea that he understood himself to be part of this community. Yeah, I mean, we had before that, Mozart and Haydn were buddies and things like that, but the idea that you could have the kind of knowledge and self- awareness to realize that you're a part of this larger community, with people you didn't even necessarily know personally, but just that there was this community of composers, community, and that you would see, as a composer, sort of the importance of preserving the legacy of Beethoven and recognizing his genius, and making sure with a statue that that would continue for time to come. That's another way that he invented classical music, because that certainly plays into the idea that there's this canon of the great composers.
Yeah, yeah, that's right. Now, we get to Mendelssohn in Britain. Now, this is actually ... I knew less about this than I realized. Of course, I knew he'd been to Scotland, of course, the symphony, but I didn't really realize the impact or amount of time that he spent in Britain. It was 20 months or a little more than 20 months, over a period of 10 trips, and I think definitely, James, especially with a quote I have here in a bit, if he hadn't died at 38, if he could have retired, he would've retired somewhere in Britain or London.
Yeah. The same thing is Handel, the same thing is Haydn. He was part of it. London was the place that had all the money to support multiple orchestras and multiple musical institutions, and Beethoven, if he had lived another five, 10 years, he certainly would've gone there as well. That's where you went, because that's where you had the resources, and it makes sense. Mendelssohn had a particular affinity for British culture, I think even more than Haydn did.
Haydn saw the dollar signs.
Right. Exactly. Haydn was all about the dollar signs and finally getting away from the (inaudible) , but Mendelssohn really liked it there and related to it there, and he spoke English fluently, and he read English literature. He definitely got on it, and he also respected the English, speaking of Handel and Haydn, he respected the English oratorio tradition, which he contributed to.
Yeah, that never really died out, I guess, the popularity of oratorios, especially of course, in English in Britain, and that brings us to his oratorio, Elijah, which is actually the only work I've played of Mendelssohn's, I think, in a performance. I played Elijah a year or two before the pandemic. Great piece, A lot of fun to play. He premiered that in Birmingham in 1846, and yeah, maybe we only have this because he did spend time in England where the oratorios were still getting more played. I think we also see a difference in his approach here, maybe compared to some of the other oratorio writers, and this makes it maybe more operatic, and that is, he was seeking to prioritize dramatic action within this piece, not so much a moral reflection, starting and stopping here and there, recitative, but a dramatic action to match the text in a more impactful way rather than just, " Here, learn from me."
I mean, that tension about what an oratorio is supposed to be dates back to Handel himself, who wrote both kinds of oratorios, in terms of those that were kind of concert operas and those that were sort of lengthy, sort of philosophical, quasi- religious reflections or fully religious reflections. This one, in Elijah, you can tell that he learned from Handel and Haydn, but also sought to sort of rectify some of those contradictions in the form. You can also tell that Mendelssohn had a greater command of English than either Handel or Haydn did in terms of how he told this story, and it's so dramatic how he tells it from the very beginning with that intonation by the baritone, and then the very dramatic fugue, fugal overture, and then having sections to the chorus and recitative, the people. I mean-
It makes it kind of like Greek theater.
Yeah, absolutely. Really, yeah, and he definitely had this theatrical flair, and that makes it so immediate, and yeah, it still holds up. I've seen performances of this that are absolutely thrilling.
A great one I did was ... I'm just remembering this now. When I played it last, there is a moment where there's, I think it's before, something about the famine, and there's this huge storm. We were in this big church and a huge storm started playing or started going on outside, and then it cleared, and the way the lights were going through the stained- glass, it was definitely an experience. You could see people, the musicians, people were just kind of looking around at the atmosphere, because you could see it around you.
Oh, hey, that's amazing. What an incredible experience, but yeah, I can imagine that would've been very dramatic.
Now, I have a great quote here too, that shows how busy he was. He wasn't just going and then playing golf or something, if that was invented at that time, but he was quite busy. In a letter he wrote in a trip the year before, he said, " Never before was anything like this season. We never went to bed half past one. Every hour of every day was filled with engagements three weeks beforehand, and I got through more music in two months than in all the rest of the year." Now, that's an experience we have, James, when you play at a music festival, and it's all day, all night, music, rehearsal, performing, and just being with other musicians. Usually that's in the summer, and you recover in August before your first concert in September, but it sounds like this was Mendelssohn's every visit, constantly busy. He would meet with Queen Victoria. He was dining with Charles Dickens. I mean, it was everything.
Yeah, I mean, there is that festival atmosphere. I mean, it was just thriving, in terms of the classical music culture at that time, and it also shows what kind of reputation that Mendelssohn had, even in his twenties, still in his twenties, and also how hungry that culture, was because they had a little bit of an inferiority complex, because they had all this music to ... They had all the means to produce all this music, but there's still a paucity of truly great British composers, and they were all sort of ... Ever since Henry Purcell died 150 years ago, nobody's quite filled that gap, so we have to import our great composers, and so they're all too willing to give the star treatment to someone like Mendelssohn.
Yeah. Now, that quote I mentioned that really makes me think he would've definitely retired there is, he said, " There is no question that Smoky Nest is my preferred city and will remain so. I feel quite emotional when I think about it." Smoky Nest, for some that may not know, London, historically, incredibly smoky and smoggy, not just with cars, but for centuries. They burned all of the wood apparently by the 14th century, and they were burning coal. Thousands of people died. Even in 1952, in a smog, 12,000 people estimated to have died. Smog was intense, but in 1847, you don't see that, maybe.
Yeah, that's why that's really important to know when you read Charles Dickens, because that's what that whole, that contrast between the fact that smog and the pollution and that oppression was everybody's problem, no matter where in society you were, and it was a constant reminder, sort of like, " Okay, we have this collective, we're paying a collective price for this," but of course, it was also, that's what enabled all the great industry and the great ... You could build wealth there and you could create orchestras there, and that contradiction was at the heart of it. Of course, Mendelssohn, I could understand why that would be exciting, but of course, I'm old enough to remember when ... I remember, I spent part of my youth in Los Angeles at a time before they had the regulations, and I remember it sort of like, you couldn't see 10 feet because of the smog.
Wow. Wow.
Not because of the fog, but yeah, it's intense. Yeah.
The reason I bring it up and talk about it is because I don't think Felix Mendelssohn would've even survived it, because as we know, he died younger, at the age of 38, and that is the scene we're approaching right now. He wasn't healthy in his final years. You can imagine the stress he had, that quote that he was working all day, and he died in the same way much of his family did, young. He died at age 38 from a series of strokes. This was 1847. Six months earlier, his sister Fanny died from a stroke. His grandfather, both of his parents, from similar things, so I think, just because we learned so much about wildfire smoke here in DC from last year, that it affects your heart and your blood system-
Respiratory system. Yeah.
Yeah, so I wonder how that would've been a torture for Felix.
Right, and that's also ... I mean, when we think about the romantic sort of trope of someone dying young of tuberculosis or of any number of diseases, I mean, that wasn't just some poetry for them. I mean, all the great, I mean, when you're working that hard and medicine wasn't catching up with the progress in the arts ...
No. It was like, " There's goblins in your blood."
Right, exactly. If you had to have surgery or something like that, I mean, it was torture, and that whole idea of having to produce so much, and that drive was not just about, " Oh, the muse is in me and I have to ... " It's just sort of like, " Well, I don't know how much time I have," and so Mendelssohn, the fact that he was so driven from an early age, and it's interesting because when you contrast this with Mozart, who ... I mean, it's very possible that things had gotten even worse by Mendelssohn instead of getting better. I mean, Mozart had overwork, too, and had some health issues, but that wasn't something genetic like it was with Mendelssohn. You don't want to say that, oh, somebody who's ... Child prodigies are always going to die young. You don't want to say that, but I'm not sure that Mendelssohn ... Mendelssohn wasn't particularly, I don't think he was particularly morbid. I don't think he was particularly death obsessed, though-
No, it seems like this wasn't expected, because he had no will or anything for his estate. That was all not taken care of.
Right. Yeah. I mean, he wasn't like Mahler or Tchaikovsky, and always brooding.
Right. Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, and so I think a lot of people are surprised, even to this day, the fact that he died so young, at age 38, because they don't think of him like that, because Mendelssohn, I mean, he was a pretty happy guy most of the time. I mean, at the end, after his sister died, he wrote this very stormy string quartet in F minor, but he was, for the most part, he was just endlessly curious and endlessly industrious, and he wasn't looking over his shoulder at the end. He just kept on going.
That string quartet number six, I think that's his last, final ... That's his last work, I think.
Yeah.
Yeah. Now, Mendelssohn, what an unbelievable composer. Also, as we alluded to much earlier on, great painter, great sketch artist. There is some artwork at the Library of Congress, and I'll put some links on the show notes page as well, but his legacy hasn't always been the same. It's changed since his death. One thing I can point on is, the Nazis, always in favor of banning music that challenges them in the most modest or milquetoast of ways. They labeled Mendelssohn, Felix Mendelssohn, as a degenerate, and they had a list of Nazi- approved composers who were tasked or asked to write new incidental music for A Midsummer Night's Dream. Karl Orff shamefully obliged. The Nazis destroyed, speaking of statues, they destroyed a statue of Mendelssohn in 1892 that wasn't replaced until 2012, but even before this, before that whole aspect of it, it sounds like his legacy was fluid.
Absolutely, and I mentioned at the beginning, a lot of musicians don't quite know what to do with him, but he certainly has an impact. I remember about 15 years ago, I was in Minnesota, and I was in Minneapolis. I saw the Minneapolis Orchestra, and they did Mendelssohn's Reformation Symphony, the fifth symphony. At the beginning of the last movement, when you hear that very, very famous Lutheran hymn in the flute, all of a sudden around me, I felt this electricity in the audience, like they were playing ... I realized, " Oh, right, I'm in Lutheran land." This is what it must've been like for them. " They're playing our song," and they related to it in such a deep, personal way. I think, " Oh wow, that must've been what it would've been like to hear the symphony the first time," but people do take to Mendelssohn. There has been, it's gone in waves. Even during his lifetime, Berlioz said that, " You love the dead too much. You're too attached to classical music," and I think-
Like the past.
Yeah, the past, and you see this throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, about how critics approached Mendelssohn, but he was always performed. His violin concerto has always been at the top of the repertory lists. I remember reading this biography of Pablo Casals, and he was talking about what he called the Mendelssohn fascination, that he couldn't quite understand at the beginning of his career in the late 19th century, when he was in his twenties, but then, by the end of his career, when he was in the eighties, he performed at the White House, the Kennedy White House in 1961, and he could have played anything, but he didn't play a Bach suite. He didn't play a Beethoven Sonata. He played the Mendelssohn Piano Trio, number one, and that was something that he thought would speak to everyone, and that he thought chamber work would be the way to communicate that. Mendelssohn just was, I mean, his Midsummer Night's Dream music has been used in so many movies.
Oh my gosh, yes.
So many different movies rely on that, and also the Italian Symphony has been used in a lot of movies, and one of his Songs Without Words was a staple of the Bugs Bunny, Looney Tunes cartoons that you would all immediately recognize when you hear it. Mendelssohn is definitely part of the culture, and he's lasted, even though it's hard to say, " Okay, did he storm the heavens like Beethoven, or was he this divine inspiration like Mozart?" Then, there's no denying his genius, there's no denying his craft, and the way he advocated for the art form of music itself, which I think is as important a legacy of his as his actual composition, and I think that's what makes him unique and standout. He's really sort of a conduit between sort of the past and modern music in terms of our relationship to music, and how we approach it as listeners and as communities.
I agree. I mean, it seems like when I look at Mendelssohn, he was someone who was unbelievably knowledgeable and prolific and everything within his own lane or bubble, so to speak, from what came before, and it wasn't that he was trying to musically push the boundaries, blow it all up, but rather, he was able to look and see the future of music in a way that others couldn't, the way he programmed concerts, the materials that he wrote, and so on.
That's a really good point, John, is that he wasn't ... I think most composers sort of thrive on the idea of innovation and groundbreaking, and this sort of sense of breaking through something to get to a new place. That's not quite ... He did do that, but really, he was just kind of, in a way, almost more clarifying what had been already done, and sort of breaking it down. It's too bad, because I remember, in terms of composers, it used to be considered almost an insult to call someone accessible and easily readable, easily understood by an audience. I think Mendelssohn really wanted to be accessible, and he thought that it was his mission to be accessible, and in a way, that's why I think he speaks to, right now, perhaps even more than he did to the classical community 50 years ago, because accessible is no longer a dirty word or any sort of derision.
Yeah.
It's like Mendelssohn said. " Oh yeah, music is about communication, so let's communicate."
Yes, so maybe now, should we hear some music?
Oh, absolutely.
Let's listen to a piece of Mendelssohn's. We can hear this in full. This is Felix Mendelssohn's Overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream. This is Bernard Haitink conducting the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra. Thanks for listening to Classical Breakdown, your guide to classical music. For more information on this episode, visit the show notes page at classicalbreakdown. org. You can send me comments and episode ideas to classicalbreakdown@ weta. org, and if you enjoyed this episode, leave a review in your podcast app. I'm John Banther. Thanks for listening to Classical Breakdown from WETA Classical.