Music and Some Highly Musical People Part 14

WORDSWORTH.

The guitar, although not of sufficient power for general orchestral purposes, is yet excellent for finished solo-playing, and as an accompaniment to a voice. It was much used by the ancient troubadours, its dulcet tones according well with their songs. In Italy and Spain, in other parts of Europe, as well as in some sections of this country, the guitar is much esteemed. It has always been the favorite instrument of the serenading gallant; and to perform upon it, previously to their more general adoption of the piano-forte, was considered as an almost necessary accomplishment for the gentler s.e.x.

Among the greatest of guitar-virtuosos that have lived may be mentioned F. Sor, Fossa, Aguado, Giuliani, Carulli, Holland, Dougla.s.s: and, as comparing favorably with these, I may mention Demarest, of whom I shall now briefly speak.

Mr. Demarest, for many years a resident teacher of Boston, was one of the finest guitar-performers in the United States, and, I believe, had only a few equals in the world. With him the numerous guitar "pickers" of the country are not at all to be mentioned; for, thoroughly educated in music, with rich natural gifts all fully cultivated, giving to the instrument the closest, the most conscientious study, and of long practice, he was thus enabled to draw from it music of such richness and beauty, as few, before hearing his playing, imagined it capable. He but rarely indulged himself or his hearers in playing accompaniments to songs (the use, by the way, to which the guitar is often put); but with masterly skill he ever aimed to develop its fullest resources, and showed that, when in his hands at least, the guitar could be rendered a solo instrument of very noticeable power, as well as great sweetness of tone. At public and private performances in Boston and elsewhere, Mr. Demarest has often delighted audiences by fine interpretations of the best music published.

He was also a proficient arranger of music for the guitar, and, besides, composed some fine pieces for it. I do not know that any of his works were ever published: I think they were not; they being prepared simply to facilitate the progress of his pupils, and for his own amus.e.m.e.nt.

It is said that on one occasion a prominent guitarist,--a teacher of and writer for the guitar,--when asked to give his opinion of one of Demarest's compositions, remarked that it was "too difficult for the guitar." However this may have been, no one could say that it was too difficult for the composer to perform; and, that being true, it ought not to have been considered as beyond the possible reach of other skilful players. Still the critic referred to may only have meant by his remark that the piece was too difficult to become "popular." I only mention the incident to show that Demarest always aimed high.

As a teacher of the guitar he took high rank with those who believed in advancing its performance to the most elevated standards. He found but few pupils, however, that were willing to give the instrument that closeness of study, or who were possessed with that spirit of patience, so necessary to render them remarkable performers. At the almost marvellously skilful manipulations of the strings by their teacher, they listened with the utmost delight; but some of them, regarding him as one exceptionally endowed, despaired of ever being able to follow him into those higher and fuller forms of guitar-playing whither he ever earnestly strove to lead them. He always insisted on a conscientious study of the instrument, and the practice of only the best music, in order that his pupils might place themselves on a much higher level than that occupied by the many who contented themselves with merely "thumping" a simple, unvaried accompaniment to the popular love-songs of the day.

Mr. Demarest was also a violinist of fair ability. In his performances on the violin he evinced the same scholarly spirit as he did in his other studies. He, however, but seldom performed upon the violin in public, and but little in private, save for his own diversion. In 1874, while still a young man, bidding fair to rise to the highest distinction as a musician, he died, deeply regretted by many, not more on account of his high musical than his gentlemanly, genial qualities.

"Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven."

XI.

THOMAS GREENE BETHUNE,

OTHERWISE KNOWN AS

"BLIND TOM," THE WONDERFUL PIANIST

"Who ran Through each mode of the lyre, and was master Of all."

MOORE.

"Bright gem instinct with music."

WORDSWORTH.

He is unquestionably and conspicuously the most wonderful musician the world has ever known. No one has ever equalled him in quickness and depth of musical insight and feeling, nor in the constancy with which he bears within himself, in all its fulness, that mysterious power which can be called by no truer name than _musical inspiration_. He is an absolute master in the comprehension and retention of all sound (and in _all_ sound _he_ finds music); a being in whose sympathetic soul lies the ready, the perfect correlative of every note of melody in nature or in art that is caught by his marvellously sensitive ear.

We often speak of those who have an "ear for music." Here is a musician who surpa.s.ses all others in all the world in the possession of this quality; for his is a _perfect_ ear. You may sit down to the piano-forte, and strike any note or chord or discord, or a great number of them; and he will at once give their proper names, and, taking your place, reproduce them. Complete master of the piano-forte keyboard, he calls to his melodious uses, with most consummate ease, all of its resources that are known to skilful performers, as well as constantly discovers and applies those that are new. Under his magnetic touch, this instrument may become, at his will, a _music-box_, a _hand-organ_, a _harp_ or a _bagpipe_, a "_Scotch fiddle_," a _church-organ_, a _guitar_, or a _banjo_: it may imitate the "stump speaker" as he delivers his glowing harangue; or, being brought back to its legitimate tones, it may be made to sing two melodies at once, while the performer with his voice delivers a third, all three in different time and keys, all in perfect tune and time, and each one easily distinguishable from the other! It would be vain to call such performances as these mere tricks. They are far, far more; since they show a musical intuition, and an orderly disposition and marshalling of the stores of the mind, quite beyond the powers of the performer of mere musical tricks. But, even were they such, this wonderful musician would not need to depend upon their performance for the greatness of his fame; for there is no work of the great masters too difficult for his easy comprehension and perfect rendering.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THOMAS GREENE BETHUNE.]

He remembers and plays full seven thousand pieces. In short, he plays every piece that he has ever heard. How almost G.o.dlike (it cannot be brought to human comparison) is this retentive, this _perfect_ memory, as relating to all that is musical, or even unmusical, in sound!

Nor does he need to depend upon the music composed by others. His own soul is full of harmony, endless in variety, and most ravis.h.i.+ng. Take from him, were it possible, all remembrance of the music written by others, and he would still be an object of delight and amazement on account of his matchless power in improvisation. Listen to his own "Rain Storm," and you shall hear, first, the thunder's reverberating peal, and anon the gentle patter of the rain-drops on the roof: soon they fall thick and fast, coming with a rus.h.i.+ng sound. Again is heard the thunder's awful roar, while the angry winds mingle in the tempestuous fray,--all causing you to feel that a veritable storm rages without. After a while, the tempest gradually ceases; all is calmness; and you look with wonder upon this musical magician, and marvel that the piano-forte can be made to so closely imitate the sounds made by the angry elements.

No one lives, or, as far as we know, has ever lived, that can at all be compared with him. Only the musical heroes of mythology remind us of him; for he is

"As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute strung with his hair:"

And Ariel, Shakspeare's child of fancy, who on Prospero's island constantly gave forth melodies of ever-varied, ever-enchanting sweetness, filling all the air with delicious harmony,--that musical spirit was but an antic.i.p.ation of the coming of this actual wonder in music. Of him an eloquent writer has beautifully said, "There is music in all things; but 'Blind Tom' is the temple wherein music dwells. He is a sort of door-keeper besides; and, when he opens the portals, music seems to issue forth to wake the soul to ecstasy." The skilful metaphysician or the psychologist pauses before him, completely balked: they cannot cla.s.sify this mind, human-like indeed in some respects, yet in many others surpa.s.sing all humanity, and closely approximating that which is G.o.dlike.

Some persons, it is true, judging from certain manifestations of his, or from certain lack of manifestations, have had the temerity to say that "Blind Tom" is an idiot. Out with the idea! Who ever heard of an idiot possessing such power of memory, such fineness of musical sensibility, such order, such method, as he displays? Let us call him the embodiment, the soul, of music, and there rest our investigations; for all else is futility, all else is vain speculation.

Thus have I alluded in a general way to the characteristics of this most wonderful pianist. A more particular but brief sketch of his life from infancy to manhood cannot but be interesting, not only to the student in music, but to all cla.s.ses of readers.

"Thomas Greene Bethune" (I am quoting from his biography), "better known to the public as 'Blind Tom,' was born within a few miles of the city of Columbus, Ga., on the twenty-fifth day of May, 1849. He is of pure negro blood, and was born blind. His first manifestation of interest in any thing was his fondness for sounds; the first indication of capacity, his power for imitating them. Musical sounds exerted a controlling interest over him; but all sounds, from the soft breathings of the flute to the harsh grating of the corn-sh.e.l.ler, appeared to afford him exquisite enjoyment. His power of judging of the lapse of time was as remarkable as his power of remembering and imitating sounds.

Those who are familiar with clocks that strike the hours, have observed, that, a few minutes before the clock strikes, there is a sharp sound different from and louder than the regular ticking. There was a clock in the house; and every hour in the day, just precisely when that sound was produced, Tom was certain to be there, and remain until the hour was struck.

"He exhibited his wonderful musical powers before he was two years old. When the young misses of the family sat on the steps of an evening, and sang, Tom would come around and sing with them. One of them one evening said to her father,--

"'Pa, Tom sings beautifully; and he don't have to learn any tunes: he knows them all; for, as soon as we begin to sing, he sings right along with us.'

"Very soon she said,--

"'He sings fine seconds to any thing we sing.'

"His voice was then strong, soft, and melodious. Just before he had completed his second year he had the whooping-cough, from the effects of which his voice underwent an entire change; it became and continued for years exceedingly rough and harsh, though it did not affect the taste or correctness of his singing.

"He was a little less than four years of age when a piano was brought to the house. The first note that was sounded, of course, brought him up. He was permitted to indulge his curiosity by running his fingers over and smelling the keys, and was then taken out of the parlor. As long as any one was playing, he was contented to stay in the yard, and dance and caper to the music; but the moment it ceased, having discovered whence the sounds proceeded, and how they were produced, he was anxious to get to the instrument to continue them. One night the parlor and the piano had been left open: his mother had neglected to fasten her door, and he had escaped without her knowledge. Before day the young ladies awoke, and, to their astonishment, heard Tom playing one of their pieces. He continued to play until the family at the usual time arose, and gathered around him to witness and wonder at his performance, which, though necessarily very imperfect, was marvellously strange; for, notwithstanding this was his first known effort at a tune, he played with both hands, and used the black as well as the white keys.

"After a while he was allowed free access to the piano, and commenced playing every thing he heard. He soon mastered all of that, and commenced composing for himself. He would sit at the piano for hours, playing over the pieces he had heard; then go out, and run and jump about the yard a little while, and come back and play something of his own. Asked what it was, he replied, 'It is what the wind said to me;'

or, 'What the birds said to me;' or, 'What the trees said to me;' or what something else said to him. No doubt what he was playing was connected in his mind with some sound, or combination of sounds, proceeding from those things; and not unfrequently the representation was so good as to render the similarity clear to others.

"There was but one thing which seemed to give Tom as much pleasure as the sound of the piano. Between a wing and the body of the dwelling there is a hall, on the roof of which the rain falls from the roof of the dwelling, and runs thence down a gutter. There is, in the combination of sounds produced by the falling and running water, something so enchanting to Tom, that from his early childhood to the time he left home, whenever it rained, whether by day or night, he would go into that pa.s.sage, and remain as long as the rain continued. When he was less than five years of age, having been there during a severe thunder-storm, he went to the piano and played what is now known as his 'Rain Storm,'

and said it was what the rain, the wind, and the thunder said to him. The perfection of the representation can be fully appreciated by those only who have heard the sounds by the falling of the water upon the roofs, and its running off through the gutters.

"There was in the city of Columbus a German music-teacher who kept pianos and music for sale. The boys about the city, having heard much of Tom, sometimes asked the boys of the family to take him to town, that they might hear him. Upon these occasions they asked permission of this man to use one of his pianos; and, though he would grant the permission, he would not hear him. If he was engaged, he would send them to the back part of the store, which was a very deep one; if he had nothing to do, he would walk out into the street. When Tom was about eight years of age, a gentleman, having obtained permission to exhibit him, hired a piano of this man, and invited him to visit his concert. He indignantly rejected the invitation.

"The man, however, succeeded in awakening the curiosity of the wife of the musician sufficiently to induce her to attend; and she gave her husband such accounts, that he went the next night. After the performance was over, he approached the man, and said,--

"'Sir, I give it up: the world has never seen such a thing as that little blind negro, and will never see such another.'

"Encouraged by this, the exhibiter the next day applied to him to undertake to teach Tom. His reply then was,--

"'No, sir; I can't teach him any thing: he knows more of music than we know, or can learn. We can learn all that great genius can reduce to rule and put in tangible form: he knows more than that. I do not even know what it is; but I see and feel it is something beyond my comprehension. All that can be done for him will be to let him hear fine playing: he will work it all out by himself after a while; but he will do it sooner by hearing fine music.'

"It has been stated that Tom was born blind. In his infancy and for years the pupils of his eyes were as white and apparently as inanimate as those of a dead fish. But nature pointed out to him a remedy which gradually relieved him from total darkness, and in process of time conferred upon him, to a limited extent, the blessings of vision.

"When he was three or four years of age, it was observed that he pa.s.sed most of his time with his face upturned to the sun, as if gazing intently upon it, occasionally pa.s.sing his hand back and forth with a rapid motion before his eyes.

That was soon followed by thrusting his fingers into his eyes with a force which appeared to be almost sufficient to expel the eyeb.a.l.l.s from their sockets. From this he proceeded to digging into one of them with sticks, until the blood would run down his face. All this must have been pleasant to him, or he would not have done it; and there is no doubt that he is indebted to the stimulus thus applied to his eyes for the measure of sight he now enjoys. When five or six years of age, a small, comparatively clear speck appeared in one of his eyes; and it was discovered that within a very small s.p.a.ce he could see any bright object.

That eye has continued to clear, until he is now able to see luminous bodies at a distance, and can distinguish small bodies by bringing them close to his eye. Persons that he knows well he can distinguish at the distance of a few feet; and it is hoped that in process of time his sight will so far improve as to relieve him from many of the difficulties to which he is subject.

"The mere technicalities of music Tom learns without difficulty. Its substance he seems to comprehend intuitively. To teach him the notes, it was necessary only to sound them, and tell him their names. With the elements and principles of music he seemed to be familiar long before he knew any of the names by which they were indicated; as a man going into a strange country may be perfectly acquainted with the appearance and nature of the material objects which meet his view, without knowing the names applied to them by the people.

"Considering that in early life he learned nothing, and later but little from sight, that he is possessed by an overmastering pa.s.sion, which so pervades his whole nature as to leave little room for interest in any thing else, and the gratification of which has been indulged to the largest extent, it is not surprising that to the outside world he should exhibit but few manifestations of intellect as applicable to any of the ordinary affairs of life, or that those who see him only under its influence should conclude that he is idiotic.

"The elegance, taste, and power of his performances, his wonderful power of imitation, his extraordinary memory,--not only of music, but of names, dates, and events,--his strict adherence to what he believes to be right, his uniform politeness, and his nice sense of propriety, afford, to those who know him well, ample refutation of this opinion.