Commemorating Berlioz 200 years after his death This year celebrates 200 years since the birth of Hector Berlioz, the French musician who was born in La Côte Saint André in 1803 and died in Paris in 1869. A special character, he was a forerunner of many orchestral innovations of the time. He succeeded in estranging the favour of colleagues with his introvert character that was ever ready for a clash. Once a medical student, he renounced his studies fascinated by music and especially by composition, which he conceived as grandiloquent, magnificent and filled with sound alchemies that had little to do with other musicians’ highly academic ideas.

Mendelssohn and Beethoven

Evidence of the above is a statement by Felix Mendelssohn that reveals his acrimony and desire to destroy a personage whose decisions were courageous: “With no talent whatsoever he blindly feels his way in the dark. He believes he is the creator of a new world and despite all this he writes the most detestable things and speaks only of Beethoven, Schiller and Goethe. Besides, he is extremely vain and looks down contemptuously on Mozart and Haydn, hence all this enthusiasm appears quite suspicious…”. (1) These are serious and violent words considering that in another text he stressed that he (Mendelssohn):
“…would be glad to strangle Berlioz, at least as long as he persists in extolling Gluck”. (2)
Diverging views among composers and little respect for others’ opinions! Berlioz succeeded in managing quite well in the atmosphere of conflict and isolation that followed him during his entire existence and beyond. He won the respect of Liszt, Wagner and Paganini, three “sacred monsters” that had seen the future of music in this French composer. Paganini even said that he saw the re-incarnation of Beethoven in him. There is a letter written by the Genoese violinist and dated Paris, 18 December 1838, which holds considerable declarations of respect. Let us read some excerpts: “My dear friend, once Beethoven died only Berlioz could have brought him back to life, and I, who have tasted of your divine compositions, worthy of the genius in you, believe it my duty to pray you to accept twenty-thousand franks as a tribute from me…. Always your affectionate friend, Nicolò Paganini”.
Berlioz held various roles in music - he was conductor, composer and music critic. This eclecticism proved his wish to be always present in the many fields of music and others interpreted this too as superficiality and approximation. Passionate by nature, he was a megalomaniac, shifting easily from enthusiasm to depression. His production, written for the orchestra, became a tool with which he could attack institutions by using the instrumental context as a laboratory for new sounds, inaugurating the ritual of music and composing for gigantic orchestras and audiences. In short it was a staggering anticipation of our times!
Already in Symphonie fantastique (1830) we could understand the musician’s style. He opened a new avenue called “programmed music”, a sort of novel in music, in other words a story not developed melodramatically but only by the orchestra. The power of imagination! The Symphonie fantastique blends reality and fiction. The story relates of a young poet who, unrequited, is hopelessly in love with a damsel. In a burst of passionate love he takes opium and enters a vortex of nightmares that will be the “leitmotiv” of the entire symphony.
In Berlioz everything is grand and studied to amaze.
Hence his theatrical works too, such as Les Troyens (1856-58), require orchestras that are almost too gigantic and can only be paralleled with Richard Wagner’s masterpieces. Even Berlioz did not thrust himself as forward as the sacred fire that burned in Wagner’s tetralogy.
Other works too, such as Benvenuto Cellini (1834-1838) and Béatrice et Bénédict (1860-1862), express an overpowering wealth of psychological contrasts and a highly intense dimension of sound, without neglecting the past and especially Gluck, his tutelary deity.
Concerning his instrumental production we can mention the wonderful “dramatic symphony” Roméo et Juliette (1839), the great Symphonie funèbre et triomphale (1840) and the tragic legend La damnation de Faust (1846), all evidence of a will to merge the profane and the sacred. Lastly we cannot forget his didactic contribution, the modern treatise on instrumentation (1843), which has been a landmark for many generations of composers. He was extremely concerned about his image and posterity. Hence he wrote his famous Mémoires (1860), two precious volumes that help us understand his complex psychology and musical sensitivity. In short he was a restless spirit, free of that romantic vein we are all accustomed to. In Berlioz there is neither the intimism nor the painful meditation typical of Chopin.
He instead feels the need to reveal himself by “shouting” his thoughts out loud, thus running the risk of not being considered. Now we hope to re-listen to his music after 200 years, avoiding labels and biased interpretations. Let us simply listen to Berlioz!
Transl. by interpres sas