Raymond
Elgar
More
About the Double Bass
Chapter IV
p.74
Giovanni
Bottesini was born on 24th December, 1821, his father Pietro being a good
clarinet player. His mother was
Maria Spinelli Bottesini. At the
age of 10 he commenced to study the violin under the tuition of his uncle
Gogliati, who was principal violin in the Cathedral at Parma. Up to the age of
13 Giovanni sang in Churches and also played the drums on weekdays in the
Communal Theatre and in the orchestras of the neighbouring towns. He was very
proud to have sung at so young an age under the direction of Meyer, the teacher
of Donizetti.
At the
age of 13 his father heard of a vacancy for a student at the Milan Conservatory
with a free scholarship. As there were only two positions available, that of
bass or bassoon, he invited his son to select which instrument he would like to
try for the scholarship. Young Giovanni chose the bass as he had already had
some tuition on the violin under Cogliatti and decided to keep to the fiddle
family.
A week
before the examination, Bottesini went to Milan with his father who introduced
him to Luigi Rossi, professor of the bass at the Conservatory, where he had four
lessons during the week. The examiner wrote a few lines for Bottesini to play
who, realising that he was badly out of tune remarked, "I hear that my
intonation is poor, Sir, but when I know where to place my fingers this will no
longer happen." The Committee appreciated that although he was not very
certain of his instrument he had a good musical disposition and they accepted
him for training. He remained at his studies there under Rossi until 1839 and
was taught composition by some of the other professors. He should have stayed
until he was 20 but he left the Conservatory 3 years before this time, not
because he considered himself an expert bassist but because he wanted to compose
and earn money playing. To give him encouragement the directors of the
Conservatory gave him 300 francs and he borrowed 600 more from a relative. With
this money he bought the famous bass from which he was never parted throughout
his life. The instrument was a fine Testore and had at one time belonged to
Fiando, a Milanese player. After his death it had been placed in a store room of
a marrionette theatre. The player Arpesani, who was probably the only one to
remember its existence and value, advised Bottesini to buy it. When they arrived
at the theatre they had quite a search before finding it under a heap of old
clothes and rubbish. It had no strings and was covered with dust and dirt.
Bottesini soon cleaned it and fitted it up and then started to practise upon it
straight away. He was so impressed by its quality that he forgot all about his
dinner and never stopped playing until he became so tired he dropped his bow.
He
played his first public concert in the communal theatre of Crema, meeting with
great success on his debut. He then went on to play all of the major Italian
theatres, including La Scala, receiving great applause everywhere. Next he moved
on to Vienna, passing first through Trieste where the director of the theatre,
seeing such a thin young man, thought it would be wise to hear Bottesini play
first. He started to play his Fantasia on a theme from La Sonambula, accompanied
by the orchestra but was stopped with the remark "That is sufficient,
Bottesini. Here we only play part of the work at rehearsals". But the
bassist replied, "I wish to finish the piece and then we shall not require
any more rehearsals". His concert at Trieste was very good and proved
splendid advance publicity for his coming Vienna concerts. He also played twice
at the Kärnthner Thor under the management of Mayseder.
Bottesini
then fell ill with angina pectoris and had to return to Italy, where he
recuperated and took two seasons at the nearby Grand Theatre of Brescia playing
as last bass in the orchestra there. He next went to Verona and was engaged as
principal bass of the orchestra in that city and in 1844, as principal bass, he
joined the orchestra at San Benedetto where he met and made a life-long friend
of the composer Verdi, who was producing "I due Foscari" at the
theatre.
He then
returned to Milan to meet his old colleague, Arditi, with whom he had been a
student and together they played at Turin, Voghera. In 1846 both went to Havana,
Arditti(sic) as conductor and Bottesini as first bass. Here Bottesini wrote his
first opera Christopher Columbus which was a great success. He frequently also
visited the United States from Havana.
In 1848
he made his first appearance in London at Exeter Hall taking part in a concert
given by M. Alary. He played for the Philharmonic Society under the direction of
Sir Michael Costa and then was engaged by the famous Jullien (who never missed a
good thing) for his Promenade Concerts which commenced with a morning concert on
May 30th,1849. Bottesini was featured in the second half of the programme when
he played the Carnival of Venice by Paganini and had a great reception, Costa
and the band joined in the hearty cheering.
The
extraordinary duet which Papini and Bottesini performed at concerts never failed
to create excitement, both instruments fully exploiting harmonics in a
delightful tonal combination. On one occasion, at St. James's Hall, the concert
was brought to a standstill by the artistes refusing to repeat the work and
order was not restored until the theatre manager appeared on the stage and
assured the company that Bottesini (after being recalled three times) had now
left the building. Similar successes were obtained in partnership with Sivori,
Paganini's illustrious violin disciple.
Bottesini
speciality was his production of harmonics and when questioned about them he
replied, "These things do not come all at once, one must first learn to
play in every other style and do all that everyone else can do, and gradually
add a little more. But harmonics are not everything. The difficulty I have
overcome is to join the two extremes of the instrument into an artistic whole by
combining soft and flute-like treble through every conceivable intermediate
stage or graduation with the great bass notes more characteristic of the
instrument."
After
four weeks Jullien took Bottesini on a trip of the English provinces and from
then until 1855 they made trips together to America, achieving great success.
These were alternated with London appearances where he played for John Ella at
his Musical Union Concerts. On June 2nd, 1851, he performed a duet with Piatti
at Ernst's concert. In 1856 he was engaged by Madame Sontag to direct the
orchestra of the Sant' Anna in Mexico City and whilst there he was approached by
Calzado, who engaged him for the Italian Opera in Paris. Here he had an
invitation to play before Napoleon in the Tuileries. The court Controller, who
was examining all the arrivals, asked among many other questions "Is the
bass empty or full?" Bottesini almost laughed, but just in time he
remembered the recent attack on Napoleon's life by Felice Orsini and replied
solemnly, "Empty, my Lord." and allowed the Controller to look through
the ƒ holes to assure himself that there was nothing concealed.
He had anticipated staying for seven years in Paris and wrote to his friend Ella to thank him for sending money due to him, but in fact he only stayed for two years before he was off on tours again. However, his most enjoyable moment before leaving Paris was when he was presented with the silver medal of the Conservatoire of Music at a special meeting, with many important people present. Bottesini also wrote and performed an opera, "The Seige of Florence", which he put on despite enemies who endeavoured to suppress the production of his own works. This opera was performed again two years later at La Scala, Milan.
From 1858 to 1866 he toured France, England, Italy and Portugal and in 1866 went to Russia. Here he played at the Palace of the Czar, also giving concerts in the theatre of St. Petersburg under the direction of Anton Rubenstein. After a concert in the Palace, where he had just played a most difficult work, the Czar approached and asked of him, "Are you Italian?" "Yes, your Majesty", he replied. "And from what part of Italy do you come?" "From Crema." The Czar did not believe it possible that a town could be called after the name of a sweet dish he particularly detested and thought Bottesini was joking. "Where do you come from!" he thundered. Bottesini quickly answered "From Milan, your Majesty". The Czar smiled again and Bottesini's thoughts returned from the cold Siberia he fancied would follow his unfortunate remarks. He soon left Russia having lost the opportunity to make money there and had to raise a mortgage to enable him to pay his fare back to Paris. Here he soon ran into further financial trouble. He wrote to his friend Arditi explaining that he was for the time being able to secure engagements and could not pay his rent and requested the loan of 100 lire in silver. The main reason for his sad plight was that he had bought furniture in Paris too extravagantly and intended selling it to try to remain solvent. He was soon on tour again and this time visited the Scandinavian countries with Vieuxtemps and Madame Artôt with great success.
In 1868 he was waiting his turn to go on the stage for a concert at the Kursaal at Wiesbaden where he had been engaged for a series of concerts and while adjusting the strings of his bass, a young lady timidly approached saying in a kind voice, "I shall have the pleasure of hearing you this evening but it will not be for the first time" Bottesini accepted this as an ordinary compliment and merely bowed. "Yes indeed," she continued, "I had the good fortune to hear you in London." "Really?" replied Bottesini. "Yes" persisted the lady, "and with my mother." Bottesini looked up from his tuning, but could not recognise her, and said: "Pardon me, but what is the name of your mother?" "The Queen of England," said the lady with a smile, much to Bottesini's amazement.
In 1869 he made another French provincial tour and in 1870 had to flee to London to avoid the German army approaching towards Paris. He conducted for a short period at the Lyceum Theatre and then played at more Promenade Concerts under Jullian, at which he returned to his double bass solo work. He soon left for a post in Cairo as conductor and there he produced the première of Verdi's opera Aida. He remained there until the theatre closed in 1877. On some occasions in Cairo he would play a double bass solo during the intermission and at one such performance a minister present said that in his hands the bass assumed the characteristics of a violin. A Turk in the same box said, "Well, why does he trouble to obtain these effects on such a gigantic and uncomfortable instrument instead of using a violin in the first place." The obvious answer to this was a loud guffaw and the remark was humorously repeated again and again in clubs and at parties in Cairo.
During the summer of 1873 Bottesini gave concerts in Instanbul and in 1874 he went to Crema following the death of his father. In 1875 he wrote his "Ero and Leandro" which he produced in 1878, during a carnival at the Royal Theatre of Turin. In 1879 he was off again, this time to Buenos Aires to conduct at the opera theatre.
During this period he is said to have married, (vide Baptie: Musicians of All Times, pub. 1889) his wife being Claudine Florentine Williams, a soprano vocalist. It is probable that Bottesini sent her to Italy for her training and she then returned using the name of Madame Fiorentini. Letters show that she was a close friend of John Ella's and indeed it may well have been that he was the first to introduce the two. We find Bottesini reffering in his letters to Madame Fiorentini in a most friendly way, but the Author has never been able to locate any definite marriage announcements, although Baptie states that this took place in 1878. It is then most probable that she toured with Bottesini and sang whilst he conducted. This is a matter of some mystery which is still not clear, but a recent communication from a 95 year old resident of Crema who remembers Bottesini well, states, that he introduced Madame Fiorentini to local people as being his wife--but after his death it was quite evident that she was only a friend.
There is no doubt that women had an extraordinary influence over him and even in his old age he always spoke enthusiastically about them, looking upon them as the incarnation of his ideal and he liked them in any circumstances. "The heart never grows old," was his answer to a frind who joked with him on the subject.
He wrote a new opera, "The Queen of Nepal," for performance in Turin but his tenor pleaded illness and left after a few rehearsals and had to be replaced quickly. The opera ran for fifteen performances and Bottesini suffered endless torture as he stood in the wings on the first night, waiting for the applause which never came. His opera "Ero and Leandro" fared better and was considered his masterpiece. Undoubtedly his most extraordinary composition was the oratorio. "The Garden of Olivet," with Joseph Bennett writing the libretto in the manner of the Bach "Passions". Some critics described the musical treatment as "light and trivial" for so serious a work, but others assessed it more favourably, suggesting that the recitatives, at least, were the equal of Mendelssohn's.
Bottesini was a good linguist and was able to write in French, English and Italian perfectly fluently. One cannot fail to be amused at his letter to Arditi asking to be excused a meeting due to a prior invitation "to scrape" in a house that evening.
We now arrive at the year 1887 and find the master aged 66 and without money. He had neither residence nor a future, but he did have a liver complaint which was eventually to lead him to his grave. His friend Verdi wrote to recommend him to the officials of the Parma Conservatory of Music for the post of Director which was then vacant and King Umberto I wrote to Bottesini nominating him for the post at an annual salary of 6,000 lire, with accommodations included. He accepted the post and in 1889 was welcomed at Parma, with Madame Fiorentini, and here in the lecture hall of the Conservatory gave what was to be the last performance of his life. By the last week of June he was a sick man and in his letter of 29 June, 1889 to the Govenors he nominated Cesare Ferrarini to undertake the examination direction at the Conservatory. He never never returned to his musical duties for after seven days in a coma he died of cirrhosis of the liver, on 7th July, 1889. He was given a grand funeral, the ceremony being attended by all the principal citizens. He was buried in the Parma cemetery and has a large tomb in the chapel just behind the garden memorial grave of Paganini. His bust is in the first courtyard of the Parma Conservatory and a memorial tablet and bust were placed in the courtyard of the Crema Museum and Library in 1901. All of these monuments still remain, but the tablet which was placed outside his residence in Via Farini is no longer to be seen.
Having throughout his lifetime travelled so widely and been associated with so many notable people, Bottesini was able to converse freely on music with all who enjoyed his friendship. He lacked any idea of money values and faced misey with a philosophical approach, losing huge sums through his irresponsible behaviour. Gold slipped through his hands without his realising it with his millionaire fancies. For example in Cairo during one of his visits he established a menagerie of wild beasts. He often had to seek financial aid from his friens and excuse himself from his subscriptions to his clubs. It was usually the case of new debts made to settle old debts or to satisfy some pressing businessman. With his great heart Bottesini was unable to follow the accepted rules of life and he could not see the result of his follies. After sulking for a while, or swearing and shouting, he soon returned surer and more ingenious than before. He was very restless as we have seen and never stayed in one place for long. His concert artist soul was always pushing him to a bohemian-like life, which for lovers of adventure is so attractive. He had many honourable and well paid jobs, but could never keep them. A quiet and retired life to him was as frightening as an early death. His wise friend Rossini once wrote in a letter, "Earn much money, put some aside, think of your old age!! And do not foget(sic) yours is coming."
He did not love gambling for itself, for had he been rashly inclined he would never have retained his Testore until his death, but during the long hours he was forced to stay at hotels while he was on tour, he would risk the odd wager at cards or on the billiard table. He was a heavy smoker and had a beautiful pipe but when out of doors he preferred to smoke a cigar. He loved champagne and was very fond of sleeping, but was terribly afraid of fast carriages, and would not cross a busy thoroughfare, such as Regent Street during rush hours, for any wager.
He received honorary membership of many acadamies and was created a Chevalier of the Italian Order of the Corona d'Italia, Chevalier of the Italian Order of Santi Maurizio e Lazzaro, Chevalier of the Portuguese Order of Christ and of the Imperial Turkish Order of the Medjidieh, Commander of the Spanish Order of Charles III od Spain and Sant' Jago of Portugal.
He was very tall and this gave the impression to many that his bass was of a very small size. This is a complete error and indeed the dimensions given on page 114 of the Author's earlier book "Introduction to the Double Bass", show that his bass is of the normal three quarter size. Bottesini wrote and adapted many pieces for the Bass including his Tutor for a three string bass (now quite obsolete) his Carnival of Venice, La Sonnambula, Tarentella, Duo for violin and bass with piano accompaniment, which together with his Concerto in F# minor are among the most important of his works. He championed a bass bow like that of the cello model which was subsequently named after him. His description of the method of holding the bow in his tutor is useful and he advocates that the thumb should rest on the edge of the groove in the nut (the frog slot), the first finger should hook round the stick and press it strongly, but the other fingers are spaced along the edge of the stick--not on the ferrule or parts of the frog as described bt Bottesini. He was a great advocate of a three stringed instrument and gave much thought to the matter. There can be no doubt that many of the old basses lose their tone when adapted from three to four strings (and one can easily believe that his Testore has also done so). Had Bottesini been alive today to try out the modern steel rope-core strings which together with the lift under the tailwire assist basses to speak so much more freely and harmonics and note production certain instead of a matter of chance, there is every reason to believe he would have had qutie a different opinion.
Elgar, Raymond, More About the Double Bass, Sussex, England, published by the author, 1963