Grove's dictionary of music and musicians

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1850 SCHUMANN 1850 363
accepted the directorship at Diisseldorf that
summer, though he left his native place with
deep regret, and not without some suspicions
as to the condition of music in Diisseldorf, of
which he had heard much that was unfavourable
from Mendelssohn and Rietz. In his new
post he had the direction of a vocal union and
of an orchestra, and a number of concerts to
conduct in the course of the winter. He arrived
at Diisseldorf, Sept. 2, 1850, and the first
winter concert was in some sort a formal reception
of him, since it consisted of the overture to
'Genoveva, ' some of his songs, and Part I. of
'Paradise and the Peri.' It was under the
direction of Julius Tausch, Schumann himself
appearing as conductor for the first time
on Oct. 24.
He was very well satisfied with his new
sphere of work. The vocal resources, as is the
case with all the choirs of the Rhine towns, were
admirable ;
Hiller had cultivated them with
special zeal, and he and Rietz had left the orchestra
so well drilled that Schumann, for the
first time in his life, enjoyed the inestimable
advantage of being able to hear everything that
he wrote for the orchestra performed immediately.
The concerts took up no more of his
time than he was willing to give, and left him
ample leisure for his own work. Chamber music
was also attainable, for in J. von Wasielewski
there was a good solo violinist on the spot.
Schumann and his wife were at once welcomed
in Diisseldorf with the greatest respect, and
every attention and consideration was shown
to them both. It might be said that their
position here was one of special ease, and they
soon formed a delightful circle of intimate
acquaintances. Little as his music was then
known in the Rhine-cities, Schumann's advent
in person seems to have given a strong impulse
to the public feeling for music in Diisseldorf.
The interest in the subscription concerts during
the winter of 1850 was greater than it had ever
been before ; and the board of directors was able,
at the close of the usual series of six concerts,
to undertake a second series of three or four.
At Schumann's instance one of the winter concerts
was entirely devoted to the works of living
composers, an idea then perfectly novel, and
showing that he had remained faithful to his
desire—manifested long before through the
Zeitschrift—of facilitating the advancement of
young and gifted composers. At first Schumann's
direction gave entire satisfaction. If some performances
were not perfectly successful, they
were compensated for by others of special
excellence ; and the execution of Beethoven's
A major Symphony at the third concert even
seemed to show that he was a born conductor.
But it was not so in reality ; indeed he was
wholly wanting in the real talent for conducting ;
all who ever saw him conduct or who played
under his direction are agreed on this point.
Irrespective of the fact that conducting for any
length of time tired him out, he had neither
the collectedness and prompt presence of mind,
nor the sympathetic faculty, nor the enterprising
dash, without each of which conducting in the
true sense is impossible. He even found a
difficulty in stai'ting at a given Unypo ; nay, he
sometimes shrank from giving any initial beat
so that some energetic pioneer would begin
without waiting for the signal, and without
incurring Schumann's wrath. Besides this,
any thorough practice bit by bit with his orchestra,
with instructive remarks by the way as
to the mode of execution, was impossible to this
great artist, who in this respect was a striking
contrast to Mendelssohn. He would have a
piece played through, and if it did not answer
to his wishes, had it repeated. If it went no
better the second, or perhaps even a third time,
he would be extremely angry at what he considered
the clumsiness or even the ill-will of the
players ; but detailed remarks he never made.
Any one knowing his silent nature and his
instinctive dislike to contact with the outer
world, might certainly have feared irom the
first that he would find gieat difficulty in asserting
himself as a director of large masses. And
as years went on his incapacity for conducting
constantly increased, as the issue showed,
with the growth of an illness, which, after
seeming to have been completely overcome in
Dresden, returned in Diisseldorf with increasing
gravity. His genius seemed constantly to shrink
from the outside world into the depths of his
soul. His silence became a universally accepted
fact, and to those who saw liim for the first
time he seemed apathetic. But in fact he was
anything rather than that ;
he would let a
visitor talk for a long time on all kinds of
subjects without saying a word, and then when
the caller rose to leave, 'not to disturb the
master longer,' he would discover that Schumann
had followed the one-sided conversation
'
with unfailing interest. When sitting -for an
hour, as he was accustomed of an evening, with
friends or acquaintances at the restaurant, if
anything was said that touched or pleased him
he would give the speaker a radiant, expressive
glance, but without a word ; and the incessant
creative labours, to which he gave himself up so
long as he was able, are the best proof of tlie rich
vitality which constantly flowed from the deepest
sources of his soul. In the family circle he was
a different man ; there he could be gay and
talkative to a degree that would have surprised
a stranger. He loved his children tenderly, and
was fond of occupying himself with them. The
three piano sonatas (op. 118) composed for his
daugliters Jnlie, Elise, and Marie" the Album for
beginners (op. 68) ; the Children's Ball (op. 130),
and other pieces, are touching evidence of the
way in which he expressed this feeltng in music.
The first great work of the Diisseldorf period