What is Lost When Musical Tastes Change? by Thomas Wolf

Composer, Ferdinand Ries (1784-1838), friend, pupil, and secretary of Beethoven. His music is virtually unknown today.

Have you ever heard the music of Ferdinand Ries, Beethoven’s secretary, student, and a composer of the early nineteenth century? I confess that I had not heard of him until a few weeks ago, even though he wrote some wonderful music for my instrument, the flute.[1]

How about Anton Reicha, another composer-friend of Beethoven’s and the teacher of Franz Liszt, Hector Berlioz, and Cesar Franck? I leaned about Reicha from one of my teachers because the composer wrote numerous works for woodwinds, many of which I got to perform before enthusiastic audiences. The pieces were very popular during Reicha’s lifetime but not anymore.  Here is one of my favorites, the finale from his woodwind quintet in Eb, recently recorded virtually by musicians from the Chicago Symphony.[2]

In the same vein, how many works by Georg Philip Telemann can you name?  Probably not many unless you are an early music aficionado. Did you know that in his day, Telemann’s music was much preferred to that of his contemporary, Johann Sebastian Bach?  Bach actually asked the more famous Telemann to honor the Bach family by serving as Godfather for one of Bach’s sons, Carl Philip Emanuel.

Georg Philip Telemann (1681-1767). In his time, he was
far more famous than his contemporary, J. S. Bach.

As a flutist, one of my favorite works is Telemann’s suite in A minor for flute and strings. Today it is virtually unknown to the great swath of classical music listeners while Bach’s suite in B minor for the same combination is played often.  Here is a movement from Telemann’s work.

As we think about musical works that were once popular, we can point to so-called “show pieces” written by or for instrumentalists who were international luminaries of their generation. The works were written to demonstrate virtuosic technique and artistry.  Most of that thrilling music is largely forgotten today.  Unless you are a violinist, for example, can you name even a handful of compositions by violin superstars like Niccolò Paganini, Giuseppe Tartini, Jenö Hubay, Eugène Ysaÿe, Pablo de Sarasate, Georges Enesco, or Efrem Zimbalist?  Having grown up in another era in a household with a concert violinist, I heard works by these composers regularly and watched as audiences were enthralled by them. I urge you, when you have a spare hour, to look up some of these names on the internet and download some of their music.

Aleksander Zarzycki (1834-1895), Polish pianist, composer and conductor, wrote one of my favorite show pieces for violin, the Mazurka No. 1, Op. 26. 

You will be richly rewarded. Actually, one of my favorite show pieces for violin was written, not by one of these virtuosi, but by arguably an even more obscure composer, the Polish pianist and composer Aleksander Zarzycki. It is his Mazurka No 1, op. 26

In my own life time, I have watched as so-called cornerstones of twentieth century repertoire have been superseded, much to my dismay.  When I was a presenter of string quartet concerts in the second half of the 20th century, for example, it was assumed that I would cycle through all six of the string quartets of Béla Bartók over the course of several seasons, only to repeat the cycle when it was completed.  These works were considered masterpieces in the tradition of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven string quartets.  Today, Dmitri Shostakovich’s quartets have largely replaced Bartók’s as a core component of that period’s string quartet masterpieces.  Similarly, today, one is far less likely to find seminal twelve-tone compositions from the twentieth century—so prevalent a generation ago—on concert programs as works by women composers and composers of color have come to be much more common, almost all written in very different styles.

What is going on here and why? It seems that classical music audiences have only enough band width today for a certain number of composers and musical styles.  Over the previous couple of generations, the canon has changed but it has consistently seemed to have been limited in scope and dependent on big names to anchor programs. Classical radio stations played a role as well, playing the same pieces over and over again. How many times can one listen to Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik yet again, great as it is?

Music organizations that have to sell tickets based on demand are sensitive to these tastes.  How many more tickets can a presenter sell for a concert of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven than one by their contemporaries—Telemann, Salieri, and Reicha?  Of course, most people today would say that the former list of composers is far greater and their music more profound than the latter.  I would not argue the point. But a century ago, performers had a solution. In looking at many programs from those times as well as reading newspaper accounts, one sees that often the first half of programs were dominated by so-called “masterworks,” at least ones considered so at the time, while the second half (as well as the encore selections) included works by less famous composers, many quite delightful or moving and greatly appreciated by audiences.

Are we not missing something today when we limit ourselves to the “great” composers, many of whom were not considered so during their lifetimes and whose compositions may well be superseded a few generations hence?  Can we not be open to exploring the vast literature of classical music without limiting ourselves to those who have been established as geniuses by today’s musical tastemakers?


[1] My thanks to Nadine Louise McLean, great granddaughter of the great violinist Eugène Ysaÿe, for introducing me to Ries’ music including his three quartets for flute and strings that can be found here.

[2] Links to several recorded examples are provided here.  Easily accessible on YouTube, they may not always be the best recordings available. For those who subscribe to other platforms where they can access classical music, they may wish to explore other recordings made under studio conditions by leading performers of the works mentioned.