wider exposure. They develop technique, endurance and, most importantly, musical expression. The original Merseburger edition of Book One of the Concert Studies (c. 1895) is dedicated to ‘Herrn Wilhelm Heckel, President of the Musical Instrument Factory in Biebrich am Rhein’. This suggests that Milde may have played on Heckel bassoons. Book Two is dedicated to the Vienna Music Academy. This might suggest that Milde was seeking an appointment there during his supposed period of convalescence (1894-97) before returning to Bucharest. A Faceless Man Revealed As mentioned earlier, in order to try to answer the many questions I had about Milde, I decided directly to contact Ales v Kan v ka, one of the directors of the Prague Conservatory. He responded quite promptly, telling me that he would check with the archives and let me know of any dis<strong>cover</strong>ies they might make. (By the way, it was telling that in his correspondence with me, Mr. Kan v ka also referred to Milde by his Czech name, Ludvík.) To my surprise and deep satisfaction, in addition to the graduation document and grade reports mentioned earlier, the archives located a single photograph of Milde, possibly taken around 1880, showing him at what appears to be around the age of thirty. After three years of living with his etudes night and day (writing accompaniments for them) and thirty years of knowing them, finally seeing Milde’s face moved me deeply. In the photo published here for the first time, Milde has a determined look in his light blue or grey eyes. He has a strong jaw; his slightly parted lips seem poised to speak. He is well kempt, wearing a snug suit jacket buttoned only at the top. His immaculately pressed shirt collar is held in place by what appears to be an ornate pin or button set with stones. He sports a neat handlebar moustache and a small tuft of hair growing under his lower 24 <strong>Double</strong> <strong>Reed</strong> News 85 Winter 2008 lip, much in the manner of Paderewski. But unlike Paderewski, Milde has short, smoothly combed, slightly receding hair. No wild romantic man with mussed tresses and long Brahmsian beard, he reminds one more of the slim late Victorian men who rode bicycles and took walks in the public parks with their paramours. This was not at all how I had pictured Milde in my mind. Milde now had a human face. He had lived and breathed. He wasn’t just a disembodied name to be made fun of anymore (‘Mildew’ or ‘Moldy’). With the dis<strong>cover</strong>y of this photo, for me, Milde truly became a human being. A Plea Ludvík Milde lived for a reason and we owe it to ourselves to gather more information about this giant of bassoon pedagogy. His etudes have helped develop the great majority of the bassoonist talent in the world for over one hundred years and yet we know almost nothing about this man. Every day, all over the globe, bassoonists young and old are playing his etudes – struggling with their difficulties and marveling at their invention. I have examined etude books for many instruments including the beloved Barret and Ferling studies for oboe, the Anderson flute book and the Kreutzer violin studies. None has struck me as having the musically expressive qualities of those two special books of concert studies for the lowly bassoon. We bassoonists are lucky to have them. Finally, one telling observation about Milde deserves to be known (to my knowledge, the only personal anecdote about him), as told by Dr. Vlastimil Blaz v ek in his 1936 book about the history of the Prague Conservatory: “[Milde] has never been fond of the bassoon and has hardly played it [during recent times], while the piano was for him an ideal instrument. He has mastered it well and with taste.” How well many of us can relate to the frustration felt when trying to express what is in the music while fighting the bassoon reed every step of the way. I am sure there are inaccuracies in this article, both in my translations and in some of the assumptions I have made about Milde’s motives for moving from one position to another, but this is a first attempt at fleshing out this man’s existence. Milde was a man – not simply a term – and now he has a face. If there is anyone reading this who has, or can help find, more information about Milde and his music – especially Czech, German, Croatian or Romanian musicians – please contact me. I intend to make it a cause of mine to insure that no bassoonist of the distant future will wonder, “Who was this man?” Milde has enriched our world as bassoonists immeasurably and he deserves to be remembered. Thank you, Ludvík. We want to know you better. Footnotes 1 I have recently been offered a contract to have my accompaniments published by Hal Leonard Publications. Book One should be available soon. 2 Leonard Sharrow was present and, to my great satisfaction, he was very complimentary of my efforts. 3 I know that William Waterhouse was able to obtain microfilms of the manuscripts of some of his other works at the Prague Conservatory years ago. Mr. Waterhouse was extremely helpful by making me copies of all of the information he had been able to unearth about Milde. I thank his memory profusely for this, and for his encouragement. 4 Most of these concert works are published and available, thanks to the industry of William Waterhouse. [To contact David McGill email: DMcVegan@juno.com]
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