Jane Austen loved to play the pianoforte. She used to copy out music from her friends into books that remain in the Chawton House library to this day. Many of these pieces- classics by Bach, Mozart, Handel and others – are readily available for today’s musicians. If you want to try your hand yourself, A Carriage Ride In Queen’s Square, a wonderful compendium of original ‘easy to play piano pieces for Jane Austen’s Bath’ with a playalong CD included, is currently available from the Jane Austen Gift Shop.
But what if you want to play music from the movie soundtracks?
Surely these evoke the spirit of Jane Austen at least as much as the period pieces. Fortunately, many of these- from the original dances used in the movies- to sheet music of the film scores are easily obtained.
Perhaps the most comprehensive collection of works is Jane Austen’s World published by Faber music. It includes:
Emma by Rachel Portman-
Frank Churchill Arrives
Emma (End Titles)
Sense and Sensibility by Patrick Doyle-
My Father’s Favourite
All The Better For Her
Pride and Prejudice by Carl Davis
Pride & Prejudice Theme
Persuasion by Jeremy Sams
Persuasion Main Theme
Another book, Jane Austen, the Music includes a greater range of pieces from both Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility.
Its contents are:
Sense and Sensibility Weep You No More, Sad Fountains
A Particular Sum
My Father’s Favourite
All the Delights of the Season
There is Nothing Lost
Pride and Prejudice
Opening Title Music
Farewell to the Regiment
Thinking About Lizzy
One of the most recognizable pieces of music from Jane Austen’s era is surely, The Moonlight Sonata. A supremely romantic piece, it’s emotional depth and complexity would no doubt have appealed to Austen’s most musical heroine, Marianne Dashwood.
The Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor “Quasi una fantasia”, Op. 27, No. 2, popularly known as the Moonlight Sonata, is a piano sonata by Ludwig van Beethoven. Completed in 1801 and dedicated in 1802 to his pupil, Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, it is one of Beethoven’s most popular compositions for the piano.
The first edition of the score is headed Sonata quasi una fantasia, a title this work shares with its companion piece, Op. 27, No. 1. Grove Music Online translates the Italian title as “sonata in the manner of a fantasy”. (Directly translated “sonata almost a fantasy”).
The name “Moonlight Sonata” has its origins in remarks by the German music critic and poet Ludwig Rellstab. In 1832, five years after Beethoven’s death, Rellstab likened the effect of the first movement to that of moonlight shining upon Lake Lucerne. Within ten years, the name “Moonlight Sonata” (“Mondscheinsonate” in German) was being used in German and English publications. Later in the nineteenth century, the sonata was universally known by that name.
Many critics have objected to the subjective, Romantic nature of the title “Moonlight”, which has at times been called “a misleading approach to a movement with almost the character of a funeral march” and “absurd”. Other critics have approved of the sobriquet, finding it evocative or in line with their own associations with the work. Gramophone founder Compton Mackenzie found the title “harmless”, remarking that “it is silly for austere critics to work themselves up into a state of almost hysterical rage with poor Rellstab”, and adding, “what these austere critics fail to grasp is that unless the general public had responded to the suggestion of moonlight in this music Rellstab’s remark would long ago have been forgotten.”
Ludwig van Beethoven, (baptised 17 December 1770 – 26 March 1827) was a German composer and pianist. A crucial figure in the transition between the Classical and Romantic eras in Western art music, he remains one of the most famous and influential of all composers. His best known compositions include 9 symphonies, 5 concertos for piano, 32 piano sonatas, and 16 string quartets. He also composed other chamber music, choral works and songs.
Born in Bonn, then the capital of the Electorate of Cologne and part of the Holy Roman Empire, Beethoven displayed his musical talents at an early age and was taught by his father Johann van Beethoven and Christian Gottlob Neefe. During his first 22 years in Bonn, Beethoven intended to study with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and befriended Joseph Haydn. Beethoven moved to Vienna in 1792 and began studying with Haydn, quickly gaining a reputation as a virtuoso pianist. He lived in Vienna until his death. In about 1800 his hearing began to deteriorate, and by the last decade of his life he was almost totally deaf. He gave up conducting and performing in public but continued to compose; many of his most admired works come from this period.
Jane Austen and Ludwig van Beethoven shared not only the same birthdate (December 16, if not the year, she was born December 16, 1775) but also a similar publication timeline. Both were demonstrating their respective creative powers at an early age, and though Beethoven outlived Austen by 10 years, their works , produced contemporaneously, are both now regarded as pure genius. We will never know if Beethoven had a chance to read Austen’s works. She was not granted the immense public acclaim he enjoyed, during her life, however, we know that several pieces (Scotch and Irish airs, in particular) in her private music collection were arranged by Beethoven and his mentor, Joseph Haydn. Continue reading Ludwig van Beethoven, Immortally Beloved Composer
What a treat – view the Festival video – were you there?
Photographer, film maker and friend of the Festival Owen Benson has edited together some highlights of 2011 Jane Austen Festival into a Festival video. Such a colourful event with costumes, music, food and dance in abundance.
What is amazing is the sense of fun and comeraderie amongst the participants. It seems that favourite events have a costume, music or food theme.
Have a look at the video yourself – it is fabulous. 2012 video to come shortly.
The Pianoforte was one of the most popular instruments for young ladies to learn to play during the Regency. With this, they could accompany dancers or singers or play solos that would entertain guests at gatherings and display their talents for all to see. Jane Austen, herself, was an accomplished musician and the following CDs give a glimpse into the types of music that she might have enjoyed.
Borrowing from Jane Austen’s own meticulously kept music books, Jane’s Hand reproduces 22 pieces of music written for piano and voice. The CD, which runs nearly 80 minutes, includes pieces by Handel, Gluck, Gay and even Georgiana Cavendish, the notorious Duchess of Devonshire. With guest appearances from an array of Sopranos and Tenors, as well as period instrument players (the Harpsichord, Fortepiano, Baroque Violin and Baroque Guitar), familar pieces are interspersed with period gems. The included 20 page booklet provides the history of Jane Austen’s music, as well as photographs of Chawton Cottage and Jane’s fortepiano. Information on the musicians as well as the full text of each song is also given.
For those who can’t get enough of the music from the movies, How Can Show How Much I Love Her? (Virgins are like a fair flower…) and Silent Worship (Did you not hear my lady?) – both featured in Emma2, are here performed. Click below for a sample. This CD was released in 1996 by Vox Classics. Though difficult to find, it’s well worth searching for.
One of the best “Jane Austen” CDs available, Piano Classics from the World of Jane Austen features classical piano music accurately reflecting the musical milieu of Jane Austen’s period and social sphere. Only imagine, this is what was heard emanating from the elegant drawing rooms graced by many of Austen’s immortal and pianistic heroines. All musical selections are drawn from Austen’s personal library, social sphere, or time period.
The CD contains 73 minutes of music by well-known and lesser-known composers, including four complete sonatas, and premiere recordings of works by Cramer, Clementi, and Schobert. Included is a delightful 16-page booklet featuring a bibliography and in-depth program notes discussing Jane Austen’s pianistic background, the role music performance fulfills in Austen’s plot/character development and social satire, historic/stylistic sketches of each piece, and the artist’s personal speculations as to who might have played what, where, and under what circumstances.
Produced by Nimbus Records, this CD, The Jane Austen Companion, is just that. A terrific companion to reading her works, writing your own Regency pieces or for simply getting you in that “Regency” mood. This CD is a delightful mix of popular pieces of the time. As the intelligent and interesting notes maintain, “London at the time of Jane Austen was one of the most exciting centers in all of Europe for music,” and this was an era of great fertility of composers in general. Lucky Jane! Imagine publishing your second novel the same year that Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony receives its premiere. Or offering your fourth novel to the public near the time of the first performance of Schubert’s Fifth Symphony. The program highlights popular music from Austen’s time by Mendelssohn, Haydn, Fasch, J.C. Bach, Boyce, Schubert and others.*
While there is no proof that Jane, herself, favored these composers or even listened to these particular pieces, they do provide a lovely picture of this period’s music for the upper classes. Other CDs may contain country dances or chamber pieces- both popular and important styles of the time- this is just a slice of life- a peek into the Regency’s orchestral scene.
[Aunt Jane] began her day with music – for which I conclude that she had a natural taste…she practiced regularly every morning – she played very pretty tunes I thought – I liked to stand by her and listen to them…much that she played was from manuscript, copied out by herself – and no neatly and correctly that it was as easy to read as print.
From the Memoirs of Jane Austen’s neice Caroline, 1867
Piano music seems to be very much at the heart of Jane Austen’s life. Her neice Caroline tells us that she practiced every day and the majority of music in the writer’s music collection at her house in Chawton, Hampshire, includes something to be played on the piano, whether as a solo instrument, or a song accompaniment or an important part in a chamber music piece she would have performed with friends and family. The music by Piccini, Pleyel and Eichner on this recording can all be found in the Chawton music collection. Further volumes of music known to have been associated with Jane Austen but not kept in her Chawton house include music by Haydn, and so two of his sonatas were chosen for the recording. Muzio Clementi was such a major musical figure at the time – he was active as a publisher, composer and piano maker – that his music must have been known to Jane Austen.
Jane Austen’s own piano was made by Stodart and would have been very similar to one of the instruments used on this recording (tracks 7-12) – a Stodart piano of 1807. This small instrument looks rather like a highly decorated small sideboard which opens up to reveal the keyboard, action and strings of a very fine instrument. Its delicate sound seems perfect for the small-scale, intimate sonatinas of Pleyel which can be found in the fourth of the eight volumes of music in Jane Austen’s Chawton collection.
The other piano used for most of the music was made by the firm of Broadwood in 1801. This is a grand piano and consequently has a fuller sound than the Stodart square piano. The Broadwood make was one of the most popular of the time. The firm made pianos for the royal family, having previously made harpsichords. In fact, this piano looks very similar in size and shape to a harpsichord, and certainly is closer in style to the older instrument than to the modern grand piano of today. What both these instruments lack compared to modern instruments is the power and sheer volume of sound that a new piano can generate from its much greater string tension and solid iron frame. Both these old pianos are lightly constructed, but what they lack in power they more than make up for in the clarity and subtlety of their sound. It is certainly the sound that Jane Austen would have known and fits the gentle, elegant character of the music extremely well. These pianos were used in the recent film version of Sense and Sensibility and in the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice.
Overature La Buona Figliuola: Niccolo Piccini
Moderato: Joseph Haydn, Sonata in D major Hob. XVI/4
Menuet: Joseph Haydn, Sonata in D major Hob. XVI/4
Allegro: Joseph Haydn, Sonata in C major Hob. XVI/1
Adagio: Joseph Haydn, Sonata in C major Hob. XVI/1
Menuet: Joseph Haydn, Sonata in C major Hob. XVI/1
Menuetto: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 1 in C major
Allegro: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 1 in C major
Allegretto e Variazione: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 2 in D major
Allegro: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 2 in D major
Moderato e due Variazione: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 3 in F major
Andante ma non Troppo: Ignaz Pleyel, Sonatina 4 in A major
Andantino molto: Ernst Eichner, Sonata in A major Op 3/1
Allegro: Ernst Eichner, Sonata in A major Op 3/1
Spiritoso: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in C major Op 36/3
Un Poco Adagio: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in C major Op 36/3
Allegro: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in C major Op 36/3
Presto: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/5
Air Suisse: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/5
Rondo Alldegro di Molto: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/5
Allegretto: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/2
Allegretto: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/2
Allegro: Muzio Clementi, Sonatina in G major Op 36/2
Performance by Martin Souter on Broadwood (1801) and Stodart (1807, tracks 7-12) pianos
Recorded in Finchcocks, Goudhurst, Kent by kind permission of Richard and Katrina Burnett
Pianos tuned by Alastair Lawrence
Produced by Martin Souter
The Jane Austen Centre in Bath is a permanent exhibition set in the heart of Georgian Bath, England. The centre opened in May, 1999 with the aim of providing the perfect starting point to the exploration of Bath in the time of Jane Austen.
Working closely with Classical Communications, we are delighted to present this elegant musical medley, reminiscent of times past.
A Very Innocent Diversion is available for purchase exclusively at the Jane Austen Centre, Bath. Order it online, today or stop by our Museum Shop to pick up a copy.
Text and music copyright Classical Communications, 2000 Made in the EU
he Austen show at The Morgan Library & Museum transports its visitors to an Austen paradiso – pure Janeite heaven. Down here on terra firma, we find the show a decided victory of librarian over cybrarian. The show’s impressive attendance – always a gauge of tastes and curatorial planning – affirms the continuing value of rare books and manuscripts in today’s fast culture of wireless downloads and instant communications. The Kindle will have its users, but the physical artefact of book and manuscript continues to summon respect. Those who viewed the Austen show in The Morgan’s new Englehard Gallery were struck by the beauty of the exhibition’s design and its cultural authority. Austen cultists were refreshed, passion renewed; novitiates were captured by Jane (Figure 1).
The Morgan’s Austen show was the literary success of New York City’s 2009 -2010 winter season; it also was the first major show on this English novelist in the United States. The event’s goal, as stated in the handsome silkscreen wall label in the gallery’s charming alcove (a 12 x 12’ entranceway), was to explore the life and legacy of Austen – what she achieved, what she left for us today, be we readers or writers. In a chat with Clara Drummond, co- curator with Declan Kiely of the Austen show, the exhibition’s challenges were a predictable subject: “Well, the challenge of this project, in addition to content selection and then physical installation, was the variety we needed to lend to the entire effort. This required considerable planning and coordination with several associates here at The Morgan, at the New York Public Library’s Berg Collection, with video specialists, and with some of today’s most attractive literary personalities. Look for them in the show’s creative video: The Divine Jane. ” The impressive achievement of The Morgan’s Austen show is its multimedia approach; it draws upon several mediums: printed book, manuscript, video, Internet, and interactive public programs, all aimed to engage and educate the world’s most diversified metropolis. With the Austen show, The Morgan Library and Museum affirmed its public role in the cultural life of a great city. It also set a high precedent in exhibition planning. As for variety, variety it had in spades.
The exhibition’s two busy curators did not merely ‘hang a show’: they created a portal – a ventricle — to Jane Austen and her Regency world. Their task was twofold: to show what Jane Austen produced (and also inspired in the work of others); and to situate Austen in her own era. The result was a thoughtful assemblage of 103 exhibits, a medium-size literary exhibition. The gallery, 29′ x 52′, was not a large space, but the installation of the many objects was economic and intelligent, so that visitors could move through the room unjostled and actually examine the displays close up (Figures 2, 2a). With the exception of a letter by Yeats and an excerpt from a lecture on Austen by Nabokov (both items loaned by New York Public Library’s Berg Collection), all of the show’s 103 items were drawn from The Morgan’s distinguished collection of Austen holdings.
First, the books. Austen’s published books, thoughtfully displayed in 10 large vitrines, were a major attraction of the show. In these glass-encased display cases, visitors saw handsome first editions of Austen’s novels in their original dark brown morocco boards, all in remarkably good condition and each with its own descriptive label. In the book selections, visitors could view a variety of book formats, as well as different bindings, typographies, and title page designs. The variety of the editions was impressive; for example, the curators offered two different editions of the first of Austen’s six published novels, Sense and Sensibility. A Novel in Three Volumes. By a Lady (London, 1811). Visitors viewed the 1813 edition printed for Austen by Roworth and published by Egerton, with the tipped in title page of the 1811 first edition (Figure 3), as well as the decoratively-bound 1899 edition (London: George Allen), introduced by Joseph Jacobs and famously illustrated by Chris Hammond. The novel’s original 1811 title page is important as it shows Austen’s guarded approach to authorship and her high regard for privacy, especially as publishing women writers continued to be ridiculed by the English literary establishment as cheeky scribblers (yes, even as late as 1811). All of Austen’s novels were published anonymously. Yet Austen admitted to her sister Cassandra, in a letter of 16 January 1796, “I write only for fame”. Evidently, the writer whom we know as Jane Austen had some unresolved and complex issues about her public identity.
Back to the books. One of the largest and most popular of the display cases was a gathering of books by some of Austen’s favourite writers, amongst these Frances Burney, Laurence Sterne, Samuel Richardson, and a most special correspondent of Austen’s: Samuel Johnson (“My dear Dr. Johnson”). Some specialists may have missed in this gathering of literary influences book selections by some additional literary figures, primarily the Anglo-Irish novelist Maria Edgeworth, so highly regarded by Austen (and so collected by The Morgan; over 80 entries in its online catalogue). Perhaps space constraints precluded a book by Edgeworth. Interestingly, if we may pause over this point, Austen seldom, if ever, acknowledges her earlier sisters of the pen, such as two quite famous figures –one, English, one not — whose names and writings could not have been unfamiliar to Austen, though never mentioned in her letters and writings owing to the sexual content of their work. These two predecessors are the famous Aphra Behn, whose novels riveted the London book market in the 1680s, and Mariana Alcoforado, the jilted Portuguese nun whose five torrid letters of desire and betrayal fascinated London readers (Les lettres portugaises, 1669; English-language eds., 1681 through 1817, and thereafter; see online British Library Integrated Catalogue and NYPL/CATNYP); both women had woeful tastes in men, as they freely admit in their writings. If Austen was concerned with fame, as she writes in family correspondence, she was certainly watching the commercial market, alert to what was selling and what was not; it is difficult to believe that she would not have known (and arguably benefited from) the work of these earlier women writers. Yes, these were earlier figures, but their work was sensational and still in circulation on the London market during Austen’s time; moreover, Austen (as her concealed public authorship shows) was not indifferent to the phenomenon of the publishing woman writer. How could such high-profile writers such as Behn and the famous Portuguese nun be unfamiliar to any woman writer, especially a writer like Austen whose métier was women and men together (gender politics and its nuances)? And this begs the question: What were Jane Austen’s actual reading tastes, and what did her private library really include? In view of the energetic research into early women writers – their public and hidden lives, their coteries and networks, their true selves behind the tidy exteriors — we must wonder what Jane Austen will look like in the year 2050. In the present decade, she is highly valued as a novelist, and first editions of her books fetched high sums at a recent New York City auction (Figure 4). But literary tastes do change, and fame is a fickle, capricious thing.
Complementing the exhibition’s prominent display of books, the presentation of manuscript selections was thrilling to behold. Of the 160 (recorded) surviving letters of Jane Austen, The Morgan owns 51. Most of the show’s manuscripts are displayed on the walls of the gallery in glass-encased frames, all with detailed descriptive labels; some are displayed in the show’s four freestanding frames. Most of the manuscript selections are signed and dated letters from Jane to her elder sister, Cassandra Austen. Their affectionate, frequent jottings illustrate what Austen scholars have observed of this intriguing sibling relationship: Cassandra Austen was less an older sister and more a lifetime confidante and companion to Jane. This close relationship between the spinster sisters was almost a surrogate marriage, a ‘sacred Friendship’ between women, as one of Austen’s literary predecessors,Katherine ‘the Matchless Orinda’ Philips, described such a bond. And here, again, by 2050 we may know much more about the sisters Austen. Their letters are witty, relaxed exchanges about the “little nothings” of their lives, light and amusing chat about what they see and hear every day — rumours, gossip, music, dancing, fashion trends, family tensions, local gatherings, and power politics between the sexes. The Austen letters are important for what they tell us about the plots and characters in Jane’s novels; oftentimes, one will spot in the letters the seed of a major crisis or exchange in one of the novels, or a casual reference to a local coxcomb who later turns up at the hot end of Jane’s busy pen. Also noticed by the show’s visitors are the form, shape, and orthography of the letters. Some of them illustrate Austen’s own creative writing systems, letter-writing being a closely formalised and learned skill during Austen’s day (and much before). We see in some of the show’s letter selections her practice of interlinear ‘cross-writing’ (not an inch of space unused; Figure 5), and also (in a letter to her niece ‘Cassy’ Austen), an amusing instance of ‘backward writing’ where words are literally spelled in reverse.
In addition to the letters, the show’s literary manuscripts are especially valuable as they tell us of Jane Austen’s compositional habits. We see her working editorially (critically) on her own writing, and she is a first-class ‘literary fixer’: entire sentences crossed out, word choices improved, adjectives pulled, punctuation changed to better reflect spoken language, and so on. Viewing a manuscript, as opposed to a printed book, is a special experience. A viewer senses a body and a mind behind the sheet of paper. The manuscripts in the Austen show offer visitors an opportunity to engage creatively with the entire production of a written sheet: they can imagine Austen’s physical engagement. Here is the scene: She is sitting at a table or a writing-desk, hand poised above a blank sheet; she works her quill-pen hard, it moves briskly across the surface of the sheet; she pauses to read her words … she resumes. There is an energy field in a writer’s own manuscript, a charge which does not transmit from a book, books being commodities constructed by hands outside the author’s personal orbit.
Also among the manuscript offerings are selections from Austen’s financial papers. In one of these exhibits (Figure 6), she has tallied up profits from the sale of her writings. As the item states, Austen invested the profits of her (first three) novels in “£600 in the Navy Fives”, being government stock which returned 5% interest annually, thus bringing her £30 a year. As scholars have shown (Claire Tomalin, for example), Austen’s overall profits from her published six novels could not have supported her; fortunately, she could rely on family money. Her financial account sheets are important to us today as they show her at work in a businesslike role as a serious career author with a view to income and the commercial value of her talent. The view that many early women writers published their stories, poems, and memoirs for their own (quaint) amusement was finally replaced in the last century by serious research into women writers as serious careerists who tracked the sales of their books, who corresponded regularly with publishers, and who sometimes collaborated with their literary contemporaries (just as women writers do today).
Offering visual relief from the density of the show’s books and manuscripts are the curators’ selections of Georgian art, being delightful visual images from Austen’s era. Amongst the drawings and watercolours are memorable selections from Isabel Bishop and James Gillray. The show’s images, displayed on the walls of the gallery in glass-encased frames, serve as a parallel world to the books and manuscripts; for example, some of the images on view were inspired by moments in Austen’s novels, such as a lovely sketch by Isabel Bishop (Figure 7), adopted as the show’s logo:
Other images, especially the caricatures, intersect with Austen’s acerbic wit in her novels and letters on the subject of bad marriages or ‘misalliances’ (Figure 8):
Gillray’s familiar caricature of a new vogue in women’s hats for high plumes and ostrich feathers (Figure 9) serves as a comic analogue to Austen’s remarks in a letter to Cassandra about women’s tastes in fashionable self-display (Bath, 2 June 1799; Morgan Library MA 977.4). Writing of women’s penchant for assembled fruit on their hats, she observes: “Flowers and fruits are very much worn, & Fruit is still more the thing [on hats] – Elizabeth has a bunch of Strawberries, & I have seen Grapes, Cherries, Plumbs & Apricots ….”
The masterstroke of the show, illustrating its modern multimedia design, is the video presented in the back area of the gallery in a blue cubicle (Images 2, 2a, above). The Divine Jane is a 16-minute documentary film directed by Francesco Carrozzini; its subject is Austen’s legacy. Six Austen devotées – three writers, an Austen studies patroness, an actress of Austen heroines, an academic — speak on camera of their special connections to Austen. They are Fran Lebowitz, Siri Hustvedt, Colm Tóibín, Sandy Lerner, Harriet Walter, and Cornel West. The film is good viewing, and each speaker has a different ‘take’ on Austen and her reputation. Fran Lebowitz, in her amusing delivery, says that ‘we’ve got it all wrong’ and that Austen is appreciated today ‘for all the wrong reasons; she is not a writer of romance novels, but rather a gifted ironist who knew how to observe and represent human nature’. Lebowitz has it right, for well before Henry James and Edith Wharton, there was Jane Austen and her novels of manners. Cornel West predictably reminds us that Austen’s principal interest is power, even if her canvas (the small domestic interior) is limited. He may challenge some viewers when he compares Austen to Shakespeare and Chekhov. Siri Hustvedt, herself an established novelist, speaks of Austen’s exactitude and economy of language. The film is not an adjunct to the exhibition, but an integral part of the entire event. The curators wisely made the film a physical component of the show by making it accessible within the gallery space itself. After an entertaining 16 minutes, visitors have a reliable set of reflections on Austen’s legacy by brothers and sisters of the craft, individuals in the literary arts who can appreciate the novels and the life in special ways.
The final medium used by the exhibition’s curatorial team is the Internet, exploited to good advantage. An entire Web site on the show was constructed, presenting not only the show’s film, but also a sampling of images from the show, as well as on-camera gallery talks by the curators and a schedule of the public programs which The Morgan organized, being workshops, lectures, readings, and an Austen gala of Georgian dances with live music to mark the close of the show (the wrap party). The Web site also includes links of a technical nature on the inks and papers used by Austen and other writers of her time.
Sounding a low discordant note, it is regrettable that the exhibition’s curatorial team did not assemble a luxurious printed catalogue to be used both as a prized memento and resource by scholars, teachers, students, and many interested others. Viewers also would have appreciated a dedicated display of selected music from Austen’s era, such as Georgian-period song books, lesson books, and sheet music, all available in The Morgan’s distinguished music holdings. Jane Austen was evidently a passably good pianist and an accurate copyist; we know from family correspondence that she played ‘pretty tunes’ on her pianoforte most mornings, and music is a principal motif throughout her novels. For further information on the musical Jane and her surviving song books, readers may consult the Chawton House Web site and the many recent recordings, now on CD, associated with Austen and her musical tastes. See also this recent essay offered by the Jane Austen Society of Australia. A final touch the exhibition might have included would be an interactive computer kiosk, placed in the gallery’s alcove, whereby visitors could access a prepared set of essential links on Austen’s life and writings; taking pride of place would be the advertisement on the current authoritative edition of Austen’s writings, published in a 9-volume set (2009) by Cambridge University Press, with Janet Todd as General Editor.
Hats off to The Morgan for organizing an impressive homage to Jane Austen. By 2050, with continuing interest and research on this writer, we shall need another great Austen show. Let us hope to meet there.
The author takes pleasure in thanking all of the following: David Baldock, Laura Boyle, and Donna Lodge, Jane Austen Centre, Bath UK. Declan Kiely, Clara Drummond, Sandra Ho, Morgan Library & Museum, NYC. Philip Sheppard, cellist & composer, London UK. Matthew Hands and Todd Dunlap, FirstCom Music / Universal Music, Carrollton, Texas.
Note on the Author
Maureen E. Mulvihill, a Scholar & Writer in Brooklyn, NY, and an elected member (1991) of The Princeton Research Forum (Princeton, New Jersey), is a broadly published specialist on English and Irish literature. Dr Mulvihill studied at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, the Yale Centre for British Art, the Columbia University Rare Book School, and (as an NEH Fellow), Johns Hopkins University. She was a visiting professor of Shakespeare and of Global Literature at St John’s University Manhattan (2005-2007); she also initiated and taught ‘Diaspora Paradigms & Early New York City’ at New York University (2007). Her investigation into the final weeks of Virginia Woolf, “Dancing On Hot Bricks”, with 8 images, appears in Rapportagemagazine (2009, Vol XII; Lancaster, Pa.). She is advisory editor, Ireland And The Americas, 3 vols (ABC-Clio, 2008), and the first editor of the Poems of Mary Shackleton Leadbeater (Dublin & London, 1808; Alexander Street Press, Virginia, Irish Women Poets series, 2008). She is currently at work on Irishwomen’s political writings pre-1800. For other credits, view:
“Of all my inventions, the glass armonica has
given me the greatest personal satisfaction”
– Benjamin Franklin
A young lady’s level of accomplishment, during Jane Austen’s day, was in part dependant upon her musical abilities. One of the strangest instruments to gain popularity during the Regency was the Glass harmonica. An example of this can be seen in the 1999 film version of Mansfield Park. Although not mentioned in Austen’s novels, it is a sound that would not have been unfamiliar to her audience.
Listen to Lesley Barber’s interpretation of a period Armonica piece from the Mansfield Park soundtrack.The glass harmonica, also known as glass armonica or simply armonica (derived from “armonia,” the Italian word for harmony) is a type of musical instrument that uses a series of glass bowls or goblets graduated in size to produce musical tones by means of friction (instruments of this type are known as friction idiophones).
Because its sounding portion is made of glass, the glass harmonica is a crystallophone. Sets of glasses struck with sticks as a percussion instrument have existed since ancient times. The phenomenon of rubbing a wet finger around the rim of a wine goblet to make it sing is documented back to Renaissance times; Galileo considered the phenomenon (in his Two New Sciences), as did Athanasius Kircher.
The Irish musician Richard Puckeridge is typically credited as the first to play a set of such glasses by rubbing his fingers around the rims; although it is not entirely certain he was the first, he certainly popularized it. Beginning in the 1740s, he performed in London on a set of upright goblets filled with varying amounts of water. During the same decade, Christoph Willibald Gluck also attracted attention performing in England on a similar instrument.
Benjamin Franklin invented a radically new arrangement of the glasses in 1761 after seeing water-filled wine glasses played by William Deleval. (By this time Puckeridge and his instrument both had perished in a fire.) Franklin, who called his invention the “armonica” after the Italian word for harmony, worked with London glassblower Charles James to build one, and it had its world premiere in January of 1762, played by Marianne Davies.
In Franklin’s version, the bowls were mounted nested on a horizontal spindle and the whole spindle turned by means of a foot-operated treadle. The sound was produced by rubbing the rims of the bowls with moistened fingers. With the Franklin design it is possible to play ten glasses simultaneously if desired, a technique that is very difficult if not impossible to execute using upright goblets. Franklin also advocated the use of a small amount of powdered chalk on the fingers which helped produce a clear tone in the same way rosin is applied to the bows of string instruments.
Some 18th and 19th century specimens of the armonica have survived into the 21st century. Franz Mesmer also played the armonica and used it as an integral part of his Mesmerism.
Mozart’s Adagio for Glass Armonica, along with works by Beethoven, Donizetti, Richard Strauss and Camille Saint-Saëns were composed for the instrument. European monarchs indulged in it, and even Marie Antoinette had taken lessons on it.
The instrument’s popularity did not last far beyond the 18th century, partially because of a strange rumor that using the instrument caused both musicians and their listeners to go insane.
One example of fear from playing the glass armonica was noted by a German musicologist Friedrich Rochlitz in Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung where it is stated that “the armonica excessively stimulates the nerves, plunges the player into a nagging depression and hence into a dark and melancholy mood that is apt method for slow self-annihilation. If you are suffering from any nervous disorder, you should not play it; if you are not yet ill you should not play it; if you are feeling melancholy you should not play it.”
While one armonica player, Marianne Kirchgessner, is known to have died at the age of 39, others (including Franklin himself) lived long and full lives. By 1820 the glass armonica had disappeared from public performance, perhaps because musical fashions were changing — music was moving out of the relatively small aristocratic halls of Mozart’s day into larger and larger concert halls of Beethoven and his successors, and the delicate sound of the armonica simply could not be heard. The harpsichord disappeared at about the same time — perhaps for the same reason.
A modern version of the “purported dangers” claims that players suffered lead poisoning because armonicas were (and some still are) made of lead glass. However, there is no known scientific basis for the theory that merely touching lead glass can cause lead poisoning. On the other hand, it is known that lead poisoning was common in the 18th and early 19th centuries for both armonica players and non-players alike: doctors prescribed lead compounds for a long list of ailments, lead oxide was used as a preservative in food and beverages, food was cooked in tin/lead pots, and acidic beverages were commonly drunk from lead pewter vessels. Even if armonica players of Franklin’s day somehow received trace amounts of lead from their instruments, that would likely have been dwarfed by the lead they were receiving from other sources.
The glass armonica was re-invented by a German glassblower and musician, Gerhard B. Finkenbeiner (1930–1999) in 1984. After thirty years of experimentation, Finkenbeiner’s prototype consist of clear glasses and glasses with gold bands. Those with gold bands indicate the equivalent of the black keys on the piano. G. Finkenbeiner Inc., of Waltham, Massachusetts, continues to produce these prototypes.
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