Read Ebook: Joseph Haydn: Servant and Master by Peyser Herbert F Herbert Francis

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Haydn's first impressions of London were overwhelming. He was as struck and delighted with the size and grandeur of the British metropolis, its crowds, its teeming traffic and the "strangeness" of English life as was even the worldlier Mendelssohn, several decades later. Nevertheless, he was not a little frightened and found the street noise "unbearable". He had not a little trouble with the language and was much confused about the right thing to do when people drank his health. He wrote to Frau von Genzinger that he was trying to learn English by taking morning walks alone in the woods "with his English grammar." Salomon did not spare him any of the customary social engagements and amenities. Before he had been in London three weeks he was invited to a court ball and welcomed by the Prince of Wales, who, so Haydn decided, was "the handsomest man on God's earth". The Prince "wore diamonds worth 80,000 pounds." Haydn eventually managed to secure a recipe for the Prince's brand of punch; it called for "one bottle of champagne, one of burgundy, one of rum, ten lemons, two oranges and a pound and a half of sugar."

For the time being, however, British adulation only had the effect of making Haydn more splendidly productive than ever. The twelve Salomon symphonies are indisputably Haydn's greatest symphonic creations. Let us mention a few of them: There is the so-called "Military" Symphony ; the "Clock", with its Andante, marked by a persistent tick-tock rhythm; the symphony "With the Kettledrum Roll"; the "Surprise", with its folk-like melody and its title derived from a wholly unexpected fortissimo following a placid folk-like phase--yet actually more of a "surprise" from the astonishing harmonies heard just before the close of the variation movement.

One of Haydn's greatest and most fruitful experiences in London was his attendance in 1791 at a huge Handel Commemoration in Westminster Abbey. It was a prodigious affair with more than a thousand participants. Handel's masterpieces may not have been intimately familiar to Haydn, though the Baron Van Swieten in Vienna made a cult both of Handel and Johann Sebastian Bach. In Westminster Abbey, however, with such a gigantic array of performers and a public brought up in the reverence of Handel's masterpieces the effect of a creation like "Messiah" was no less than shattering on Haydn. When he heard the "Hallelujah" chorus he burst into tears with the exclamation "Handel is the master of us all!" And it seems to have been the impact of Handel which moved him to contemplate an oratorio of his own. The outcome of this Handelian experience and of the great British tradition of massive choruses became, in due time, "The Creation" and "The Seasons."

Haydn was immensely busy in England but he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He was entertained for five entire weeks at the home of a rich banker who lived in the country and who asked Haydn to give music lessons to his daughters, yet tactfully left the composer as much alone as he wished to be. So he was able to rest a little from the noise of London. Another time he went by boat from Westminster Bridge to Richmond and had dinner on a lovely island in the Thames; or he went to a dance at the home of the Lord Mayor of London, leaving when he found the room too hot and the music too bad; then he remained for three days at a castle where the Duke of York and his bride were spending their honeymoon. "Oh, my dear good lady", he exclaimed in a letter to Marianne von Genzinger, "how sweet is some degree of liberty! I had a kind prince, but was obliged at times to be dependent on base souls. I often sighed for release and now I have it in some measure. I am quite sensible of this benefit, though my mind is burdened with more work. The consciousness of being no longer a servant sweetens all my toil."

Apart from his other English activities there was no end of sight-seeing to be done, complicated with a considerable amount of teaching. At the end of the music season the "worn out" master, went to Vauxhall Gardens, was delighted with the place where, among other things the music was "fairly good" and where "coffee and milk cost nothing". However, he did have a few twinges of the "English rheumatism" and almost submitted to an operation for his nose polypus--though when they tied him to a chair and prepared to operate he "kicked and screamed so vigorously", that the surgeon and his assistants had to give it up.

Not even a Haydn escaped intrigues and baseless slander. A rival concert organization, unable to win him away from Salomon launched rumors that the composer was showing signs of exhaustion and then sought to play off against Haydn the aging master's devoted pupil, Ignaz Pleyel. Another thing he seems not to have managed avoiding was a love affair. "There were certainly quite a few innocent friendships with beautiful women", relates Dr. Geiringer, "but they did not prevent the inflammable master from enjoying a more significant romance as well". Strangely enough, we know about it only from the letters of the lady in question, which Haydn carefully copied because, presumably, she wanted her correspondence back! So far as we have this interchange it is quite one-sided and none of Haydn's letters to her remain. The lady in the case was a widow, a Mrs. Schroeter. Dr. Burney referred to her as "a young lady of considerable fortune". Later, Haydn spoke of her to Dies, as "an English widow in London who loved me. Though 60 years old, she was still lovely and amiable, and in all likelihood I should have married her if I had been single." Like Marianne von Genzinger, Mrs. Schroeter was musical and did copyist work for the composer. Actually, she seems to have been much younger than Haydn's estimate. Here are a few extracts from the letters he received from her in London: "... Pray inform me how you do, and let me know my Dear Love: When will you dine with me? I shall be truly happy to see you to dinner, either tomorrow or Tuesday.... I am truly anxious and impatient to see you and I wish to have as much of your company as possible; indeed my dear Haydn I feel for you the fondest and tenderest affection the human heart is capable of, and I ever am with the firmest attachment my Dear Love, most Sincerely, Faithfully and most affectionately Yours...". Another time, the devoted Mrs. Schroeter is concerned about his health: "I am told you was at your Study's yesterday; indeed, my D.L., I am afraid it will hurt you.... I almost tremble for your health. Let me prevail on you my much loved Haydn not to keep to your study's so long at one time. My dear love if you could know how precious your welfare is to me, I flatter myself you wou'd endeavor to preserve it, for my sake as well as your own." Another time: "... I hope to hear you are quite well, shall be happy to see you at dinner and if you can come at three o'clock it would give me great pleasure, as I should be particularly glad to see you my Dear before the rest of our friends come."

All the same, Haydn amid his numberless duties, found time to write to Luigia Polzelli, who was now in Italy. She was not a little jealous and the composer found it wise to placate her with extravagantly ardent letters and money. He would have been happy to see her son, Pietro, in London but he was much less anxious to have Luigia. Meantime, the "Infernal Beast" again stirred up trouble by sending notes to her detested rival hinting at Haydn's infidelities!

Let us herewith end the story of Luigia. Haydn had once promised to marry her when he should be free. When, at long last Maria Anna Apollonia died in 1800, the Polzelli chose to remind him of his promise. But he solved the difficulty by giving her black on white, his solemn word to marry "no one else" and he also promised her a substantial pension for the rest of her life. Having pocketed that "promise" Luigia promptly married an Italian singer! Her son, Pietro, died in 1796. Haydn sincerely mourned him but turned his attention to another pupil of his, Sigismund Neukomm.

The wanderer came back to Vienna in midsummer, 1792. After the exhilaration of the first English trip the return to Vienna, for all his honors and distinctions, was chilling. No one seemed to care greatly. Moreover, there was one irreplaceable loss; Mozart was no more; and early in 1793 another blow struck Haydn--Marianne von Genzinger died at 38. Here was a calamity in its way rivaling the tragedy of Mozart. Haydn's resilient nature recovered even from the death of Marianne. But a certain sweetness departed with her and never returned. Singularly enough, there entered into his musical life about this time a force one might assume would have fortified him to bear the burden of his poignant losses. Beethoven arrived in Vienna from Bonn bearing the following message from Count Waldstein: "Dear Beethoven, you are traveling to Vienna in fulfillment of your long-cherished wish. The tutelary genius of Mozart is still weeping and bewailing the death of her favorite. With the inexhaustible Haydn she has found refuge, but no occupation, and now she is waiting to leave him and associate herself with someone else. Labor assiduously and receive Mozart's spirit from the hands of Haydn."

Haydn was the wrong teacher for Beethoven and Beethoven the wrong pupil for Haydn. The young man's relations with the old master were kind and friendly . But there was a spiritual gulf between them of which they both became aware. Haydn, indeed, foreshadowed musical romanticism, yet he did not, like his new pupil, arrogantly identify himself with it. Beethoven had none of that soul of a servitor which Haydn had acquired through his long career; so it was not without reason that the teacher used to allude to the hot-headed pupil as "the Grand Mogul". Moreover, Beethoven wanted to be instructed in counterpoint the hard way; and he was greatly irritated when Haydn did not carefully correct his technical exercises. Therefore, though the relationship remained outwardly amicable and the lessons went on, Beethoven changed teachers. He placed himself in the hands of the composer, Johann Schenk, and of the contrapuntist, Johann Albrechtsberger. As Schenk had told Beethoven in looking over some of his technical work, Haydn was now too busy composing great masterworks to be occupied by the needs of a particularly obstreperous student.

In 1794 Haydn started out a second time for London, but this time not in Salomon's company. Yet as he did not wish to make the journey unattended he decided on one of his young friends for an escort--Polzelli, Beethoven or some other. His usual luck attended him when he picked Johann Elssler, whose father had copied music at Eszterh?za. Johann was Haydn's godson and in the fullness of time he became the father of the famous dancer, Fanny Elssler. He idolized Haydn, served him hand and foot, was secretary, copyist and the first to assist Haydn in cataloguing his works. On this English visit Haydn traveled rather more extensively than the first time. He went to the Isle of Wight, to Southampton, to Waverly Abbey, to Winchester. He went to Hampton Court, which reminded him of Eszterh?za. He heard "miserable trash" at the Haymarket Theatre and even worse at Sadler's Wells. In Bath he met a Miss Brown, "an amiable discreet person", who had the additional advantage of "a beautiful mother"; he saw the grave of "Turk, a faithful dog and not a man"; and he composed music to a poem by the conductor of the Bath Harmonic Society, "What Art Expresses".

In August, 1795, Haydn was back in Vienna, and although the heart-breaks of the previous return were spared him he found plenty of new organizational labor awaiting him at Eszterh?za, where a new prince, Nicholas II, a grandson of "The Magnificent" now held sway. His artistic tastes, though pronounced, did not run primarily in the directions of music. He gave Cherubini a gorgeous and costly ring, he liked the music of Reutter and Michael Haydn more than that of the great Eszterh?zy Capellmeister, and then insulted Beethoven with a stupid remark about the latter's C major Mass. He even criticised Haydn's management of some detail at an orchestral rehearsal, whereupon the now thoroughly irascible master turned on his patron with a wrathy: "Your Highness, it is my job to decide this!" He felt now that a Doctor of Music at Oxford should be addressed more respectfully than simply as "Haydn".

In London the composer once said: "I want to write a work which will give permanent fame to my name in the world." After his numberless symphonies, his masses, his clavier works, his vast store of chamber music, his concertos, his operatic miscellany, his songs and arias--after all these what could remain? England had given him one unrivaled experience from which he could nourish his genius--the mighty Handel Commemoration, in Westminster Abbey. Haydn had experimented in countless forms, but one. That was the oratorio and in this he could undertake new flights.

Where should he find a subject? Some say that a musical friend of Haydn's answered the master by opening a Bible standing handy and exclaiming: "There! Take that and begin at the beginning!" Others maintain that Salomon gave him a libretto which one Lidley had pieced together from Milton's "Paradise Lost" for Handel. Dr. Geiringer believes that both accounts may be true. At all events, Haydn returned to Vienna with the text. It was, however, in English, which Haydn understood imperfectly. It was necessary, consequently, to find an accomplished translator. As usual, good fortune attended him. Gottfried van Swieten, a literatteur, prefect of the Vienna Royal Library, friend of Mozart, worshipper of Handel and Bach, who thought highly of Haydn, was wealthy even if despotic, yet still after a fashion musical--this man was able to furnish Haydn what he required. Nay, more, "he got together a group of twelve music-loving noblemen and each guaranteed a contribution to defray the expenses of performance and pay an honorarium to the composer." And Haydn set jubilantly and, withal, reverently to work. He "spent much time over it, because he intended it to last a long time."

The labor gave him extraordinary happiness. It answered his inmost wants. Here he could give the freest possible rein to all that inborn optimism of his nature. Always profoundly religious, as free from doubt and skepticism as a child, his reverence was as sincere as it was sunny. Here he walked, literally, "hand in hand with his God". There came to the surface, moreover, all those springs of folk-song influence which were either remembered or subconsciously wrought into the fabric of his being. And he was now working on a newer and larger scale than hitherto. "Never was I so devout as when composing 'The Creation'" he afterwards said. "I knelt down every day and prayed to God to strengthen me in my work." If his inspiration ever threatened to grow sluggish "I rose from the pianoforte and began to say my rosary". This cure, he insisted, never failed.

The curious aspect of "The Creation" is that, though composed to a German translation of the English text, it is one of those rare masterpieces which actually sound better in a translation than in the original. The answer to this springs probably from the circumstance that "The Creation" is, in point of fact, an Anglo-Saxon heritage. An examination of numerous details of its setting and declamation make it clear that, almost subconsciously, Haydn has set and accompanied the English words in more subtly revealing fashion than the German. Similarly, Haydn achieved in the whole work that effect at which he was aiming. Writing to her daughter, the Princess Eleanore Liechtenstein said of the oratorio, "One has to shed tears about the greatness, the majesty, the goodness of God. The soul is uplifted. One cannot but love and admire."

The first performance of "The Creation" was given at the palace of Prince Schwarzenberg in Vienna on April 29, 1798. Only invited guests attended this and the second performance, though the mobs outside were so great that extra detachments of police had to be summoned. Haydn conducted, not from a keyboard, but in the modern way, with a baton. The rendering was superb, the audience enraptured. Haydn himself said later: "One moment I was as cold as ice, the next I seemed on fire. More than once I was afraid I should have a stroke." "The Creation" promptly spread over the world. In England it "was to prove so unfailing an attraction that proceeds from it, mostly given to charitable institutions, by far surpassed even the receipts from the London benefit concerts that once had seemed so extraordinary to Haydn". In Paris Bonaparte was on his way to hear a performance of it when a bomb exploded in the street through which he was passing, narrowly missing his carriage. In America it took root in short order.

The score deserves, in reality, a much more detailed scrutiny than can be given here. The introduction, the "Representation of Chaos", does not receive the attention it actually merits. There is a warmth of color to the writing, particularly to the woodwind, which is something new in Haydn. And the closing bars of the amazing page are the more startling because they provide a foretaste of one of the most striking passages in Wagner's "Tristan und Isolde". It may be mentioned, in passing, that this is by no means the only time when Haydn affords an amazing Wagnerian presage.

The great and even more celebrated moment in the opening choral number of the oratorio is the passage "Let there be Light and there was Light". From a thin, gray C minor we are suddenly overwhelmed with a sudden and mighty C major chord--an unmistakable sunburst in tone. In all music this tremendous moment has not its like unless it be a similar episode--also a sunrise and by curiously related means--at the opening of Richard Strauss's "Thus Spake Zarathustra". From the very first this moment in "The Creation" overpowered the listeners and after a century and a half it has lost not a vestige of its glory. At his last appearance in a concert hall, Haydn, only a few weeks from his end, was taken to a performance of his work. At this episode the old master pointed upwards with the words "Not from me--from there, above, comes everything!"

Haydn had still a prodigious amount of work before him. Chief of all was another full length oratorio, "The Seasons", based on James Thomson's didactic poem. Here again the Baron Van Swieten edited and translated, though he made use of several German poems in addition to Thomson's . The composer worked for three years on "The Seasons", not completing it till 1801. It seems to have tested his powers sorely. It was no less optimistic a document than "The Creation", but by and large an outspoken Nature piece , yet with only transient religious undertones and without the genuinely Biblical quality of "The Creation". Still, the truly amazing part of "The Seasons" is its incessant vitality, the charm of its pictorial aspect and the unending freshness of its inspiration. All the same, the magnificent work made unmistakable inroads on Haydn's vitality. He paid for its success with his health and was in the habit of saying, from now on, "'The Seasons' has given me the death blow!" Actually, he had suffered a physical breakdown of a sort shortly after one of the productions of "The Creation". He had to take to his bed and, intermittently, the flow of his inspiration threatened to halt. But invariably he would recover, both physically and mentally. He revised his earlier "Seven Last Words" as an oratorio; he arranged 250 Scotch folksongs for the Edinburgh publisher, George Thomson; the number of his string quartets increased. Performances of "The Creation" multiplied everywhere. Honors poured in upon him from all quarters. He was warmly invited to come to Paris and his old pupil, Pleyel, was dispatched to fetch him. Fortunately, Haydn spared himself the exertions of such a trip. Still, France struck a medal in his honor, which gave the master no end of pleasure; and he received the warmest expressions of affection from the inhabitants of the little Baltic island of R?gen, where a performance of "The Creation" was given. He even strove to be his own publisher and sought subscriptions for the score of the oratorio. His friends rallied magnificently to his aid--the English royal family, the Empress of Austria, the innumerable friends from his native country and from Britain . Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton visited Eszterh?za and it is said that for two days the Lady "would not budge from Haydn's side", while Nelson gave him a gold watch in exchange for the master's pen!

The great composition of this later period of Haydn's life is beyond dispute his patriotic anthem, "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser"--the Austrian hymn, as, through thick and thin, it has remained. That, too, was indirectly a product of his English experiences! He had always been stirred in London by "God Save the King" and it became his ambition to provide something similar for his own nation. The great melody that resulted bears a distinct resemblance to a Croatian folksong of the Eisenstadt region, "Zalostna zarucnica", which certain musicologists maintain served as the inspiration for Haydn's melody, though the derivation has not been definitely established. But others than Austrians have made the song their own. The Germans, for instance, consorted it to a poem by Hoffmann von Fallersleben and thereby it became "Deutschland ?ber alles"; the English-speaking nations put it to churchly uses and made of it the hymn "Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken".

While he was still engaged in exacting creative work he set a schedule for himself which he appears to have followed rigorously. A daily plan of activities furnishes a picture of "Herr von Haydn's" routine. He was living in a house he had bought in the "Gumpendorfer" district of Vienna. We read that "in the summertime he rose at 6.30 A.M. First he shaved, which he did for himself up to his 73rd year, and then he completed dressing. If a pupil were present, he had to play his lesson on the piano to Herr von Haydn, while the master dressed. All mistakes were promptly corrected and a new task was then set. This occupied an hour and a half. At 8 o'clock sharp, breakfast had to be on the table, and immediately after breakfast Haydn sat down at the piano improvising and drafting sketches of some composition. From 8 o'clock to 11.30 his time was taken up in this way. At 11.30 calls were received or made, or he went for a walk until 1.30. The hour from 2 to 3 was reserved for dinner, after which Haydn immediately did some little work in the house or resumed his musical occupations. He scored the morning's sketches, devoting three to four hours to this. At 8 P.M. Haydn usually went out and at 9 he came home and sat down to write a score or he took a book and read until 10 P.M. At that time he had supper, which consisted of bread and wine. Haydn made a rule of eating nothing but bread and wine at night and infringed it only on sundry occasions when he was invited to supper. He liked gay conversation and some merry entertainment at the table. At 11.30 he went to bed, in his old age even later. Wintertime made no difference to the schedule, except that Haydn got up half an hour later."

But despite this pleasant and comfortable routine Haydn was now beginning to age rapidly. On December 26, 1803, he conducted for the last time and, characteristically, for a hospital fund, the work he directed being the "Seven Last Words". He wrote two movements of a string quartet, but by 1806, he had given up all idea of finishing it and, as a conclusion, added a few bars of a song he had written in the past few years, "Der Greis", which begins "Hin ist alle meine Kraft, alt und schwach bin ich" . Friends and admirers in ever increasing numbers sought him out to pay their respects. There came Cherubini, the Abb? Vogler, the violinist Baillot, Pleyel, members of the Weber family, Mme. Bigot--a friend of Beethoven and afterwards one of the piano teachers of Felix and Fanny Mendelssohn; Hummel, the widow of Mozart, the Princess Eszterh?zy, the actor, Iffland.

In 1805 a rumor gained currency that Haydn had died. The world was shocked. Cherubini even composed a cantata on Haydn's passing; Kreutzer a violin concerto based on themes from Haydn's works, while in Paris a special memorial concert was arranged and Mozart's Requiem was to be given. Suddenly there came a letter from the master saying that "he was still of this base world." And he thanked his French admirers for their well-meant gestures adding "had I only known of it in time, I would have traveled to Paris to conduct the Requiem myself!" Johann Wenzel Tomaschek told how Haydn greeted any visitor who might drop in: "He sat in an armchair, very much dressed up. A powdered wig with sidelocks, a white neckband with a bold buckle, a white richly embroidered waistcoat of heavy silk, in the midst of which shone a splendid jabot, a dress of fine coffee-colored cloth with embroidered cuffs, black silk breeches, white silk hose, shoes with large silver buckles curved over the instep, and on a little table next to him a pair of white kid gloves made up his attire."

He made one last public appearance. It was at a performance of "The Creation" given at the Vienna University in celebration of the master's 76th birthday. About the only person of prominence not present was Prince Eszterh?zy; but he at least sent his carriage to bring the master to the concert! At the hall were assembled not alone the high nobility but all the most distinguished musicians of the capital, among them Beethoven, Salieri, Hummel, Gyrowetz. Salieri conducted. The concertmaster was Franz Clement, for whom Beethoven wrote his violin concerto. The French ambassador, seeing Haydn wearing the gold medal of the Parisian Concerts des Amateurs, exclaimed: "This medal is not enough; you should receive all the medals that France can distribute!" The Princess Eszterh?zy not only sat next to the master but wrapped her own shawl about him. It was on this occasion that Haydn made his historic remark when the audience burst into applause at the sublime passage "And there was Light." As the concert progressed he became visibly excited and it was thought advisable to take him home. As Haydn left the auditorium Beethoven knelt down before him and reverently kissed his hand and brow. Before the old man finally vanished from view he turned one last time and lifted his hand in blessing on the assemblage.

But his strength was now quite gone. He could only whisper to those about him: "Children, be comforted, I am well." Then he lapsed into unconsciousness and shortly after midnight, May 31, 1809, he passed. Napoleon saw to it that a military guard of honor was stationed at his door. At his obsequies not only the cultural world of Vienna but also the highest French military officials were present. And Mozart's Requiem was sung.

The story cannot be ended without an allusion to its macabre epilogue. Haydn was laid to rest in the Hundsturm Cemetery. But soon afterwards Prince Eszterh?zy received permission to reinter the master in Eisenstadt. There were lengthy delays, however, and in 1814 Sigismund Neukomm was shocked to find the tomb in a state of dilapidation. He placed on it a marble slab with Haydn's favorite quotation from Horace, "Non omnis moriar" , set as a five part canon. Six years later the Duke of Cambridge remarked to Prince Eszterh?zy "How fortunate was the man who employed this Haydn in his lifetime and now possesses his mortal remains!" The Prince said nothing, but experienced a sharp twinge of conscience. So he gave orders for the exhumation and the reburial in the Eisenstadt Bergkirche, where Haydn had conducted a number of his masses. When the coffin was opened the officials were appalled to find a body without a head! It developed that a certain Carl Rosenbaum, once a secretary to Prince Eszterh?zy, and a penitentiary official, one Johann Peter, had bribed the Viennese gravedigger, to steal the skull which they wanted for phrenological experiments. Peter had made an elaborately decorated box for the gruesome relic. The outraged Prince sent the police to Peter, who, meantime had given the skull to Rosenbaum. The police were quite as unsuccessful at the Rosenbaum house, for the singer, Therese Gassmann Rosenbaum, promptly hid the skull in her mattress and went to bed, pretending illness. The hideous farce went a step further, when Rosenbaum, expecting a bribe, substituted the head of some unidentified old man. When Rosenbaum died he left Haydn's skull to Peter, obligating him to bequeath it to the museum of the Society of the Friends of Music, in Vienna, where it was preserved since 1895.

It was reported that the Nazis, after the Austrian Anschluss in 1938, proposed to bury the head in Haydn's coffin at Eisenstadt. Whether they carried out this plan is not known to the present writer.

COLUMBIA RECORDS

Barber--Symphony No. 1, Op. 9 Beethoven--Concerto for Violin, Cello, Piano and Orchestra in C major --LP Beethoven--Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major --LP Beethoven--Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra --LP Beethoven--Symphony No. 1 in C major, Op. 21--LP Beethoven--Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major --LP Beethoven--Symphony No. 5 in C minor--LP Beethoven--Symphony No. 8 in F major--LP Beethoven--Symphony No. 9 in D minor --LP Brahms--Song of Destiny --LP Dvorak--Slavonic Dance No. 1 Dvorak--Symphony No. 4 in G major--LP Mahler--Symphony No. 4 in G major --LP Mahler--Symphony No. 5 in C-sharp minor Mendelssohn--Concerto in E minor --LP Mendelssohn--Scherzo Mozart--Cosi fan Tutti--Overture Mozart--Symphony No. 41 in C major , K. 551--LP Schubert--Symphony No. 7 in C major--LP Schumann, R.--Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major --LP Smetana--The Moldau --LP Strauss, J.--Emperor Waltz

Chopin--Les Sylphides--LP Glinka--Mazurka--"Life of the Czar"--LP 7? Grieg--Concerto in A minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 16 --LP Herold--Zampa--Overture Kabalevsky--"The Comedians", Op. 26--LP Khachaturian--Gayne--Ballet Suite No. 1--LP Khachaturian--Gayne--Ballet Suite No. 2--LP Lecoq--Mme. Angot Suite--LP Prokofieff--March, Op. 99--LP Rimsky-Korsakov--The Flight of the Bumble Bee--LP 7? Shostakovich--Polka No. 3, "The Age of Gold"--LP 7? Shostakovich--Symphony No. 9--LP Shostakovich--Valse from "Les Monts D'Or"--LP Villa-Lobos--Uirapur?--LP Wieniawski--Concerto No. 2 in D minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 22 --LP

D'Indy--Symphony on a French Mountain Air for Orchestra and Piano--LP Milhaud--Suite Francaise--LP Mozart--Concerto No. 21 for Piano and Orchestra in C major--LP Saint-Saens--Symphony in C minor, No. 3 for Orchestra, Organ and Piano, Op. 78--LP

Stravinsky--Firebird Suite--LP Stravinsky--Fireworks --LP Stravinsky--Four Norwegian Moods Stravinsky--Le Sacre du Printemps --LP Stravinsky--Scenes de Ballet--LP Stravinsky--Suite from "Petrouchka"--LP Stravinsky--Symphony in Three Movements--LP

Bach-Barbirolli--Sheep May Safely Graze --LP Berlioz--Roman Carnival Overture Brahms--Symphony No. 2, in D major Brahms--Academic Festival Overture--LP Bruch--Concerto No. 1, in G minor --LP Debussy--First Rhapsody for Clarinet Debussy--Petite Suite: Ballet Mozart--Concerto in B-flat major Mozart--Symphony No. 25 in G minor, K. 183 Ravel--La Valse Rimsky-Korsakov--Capriccio Espagnol Sibelius--Symphony No. 1, in E minor Sibelius--Symphony No. 2, in D major Smetana--The Bartered Bride--Overture Tschaikowsky--Theme and Variations --LP

Mendelssohn--Symphony No. 4, in A major Sibelius--Melisande Sibelius--Symphony No. 7 in C major--LP Tschaikowsky--Capriccio Italien

Gershwin--Concerto in F --LP

Khachaturian--Concerto for Piano and Orchestra --LP

LP--Also available on Long Playing Microgroove Recordings as well as on the conventional Columbia Masterworks.

VICTOR RECORDS

Beethoven--Symphony No. 7 in A major Brahms--Variations on a Theme by Haydn Dukas--The Sorcerer's Apprentice Gluck--Orfeo ed Euridice--Dance of the Spirits Haydn--Symphony No. 4 in D major Mendelssohn--Midsummer Night's Dream--Scherzo Mozart--Symphony in D major Rossini--Barber of Seville--Overture Rossini--Semiramide--Overture Rossini--Italians in Algiers--Overture Verdi--Traviata--Preludes to Acts I and II Wagner--Excerpts--Lohengrin--Die G?tterd?mmerung--Siegfried Idyll

Debussy--Iberia Purcell--Suite for Strings with four Horns, Two Flutes, English Horn Respighi--Fountains of Rome Respighi--Old Dances and Airs Schubert--Symphony No. 4 in C minor Schumann--Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor Tschaikowsky--Francesca da Rimini--Fantasia

J. C. Bach--Arr. Stein--Sinfonia in B-flat major J. S. Bach--Arr. Mahler--Air for G string Beethoven--Egmont Overture Handel--Alcina Suite Mendelssohn--War March of the Priests Meyerbeer--Prophete--Coronation March Saint-Saens--Rouet d'Omphale Schelling--Victory Ball Wagner--Flying Dutchman--Overture Wagner--Siegfried--Forest Murmurs

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Transcriber's Notes

--A few palpable typos were silently corrected.

--Copyright notice is from the printed exemplar.

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