The guitar has always been my true love, and although I have been having an affair with the mandolin in the past few years, I just can’t help myself and fell in love with the Portugues guitar. As I was busying looking for the method, A Complete Method for Portuguese Guitarra by Havelock on the interweb (anyone has a copy to share?), a short biography of the late romantic English guitarist, Ernest Shand, just pop out of nowhere – he was introduced in Strings, A Fiddler’s Magazine (October, 1895), as Shand has just been “appointed an examiner of the Guild of Violinists.” I like this bio a lot. It describes a young Shand while he was still alive. It mentioned about how he learned the instrument, pieces he studied, and his score collection, and his notable performances. He was also still writing his method.

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GUITARISTS, at least those who can really be called such, may be counted on the fingers of one hand, and amongst contemporary artists, the subject of our sketch must surely take a high place as a performer and teacher of a beautiful instrument now rarely heard in our concert rooms.

I say heard advisedly, because the guitar as now played by the majority of students, principally young ladies, is treated as hardly anything more than a toy, as in most cases a few chords, as a rule tonic and dominant, are relegated to it as an accompaniment to an easy song.

Mr. Ernest Shand who was born in Hull on January 31^st, 1868, us a guitarist of no mean order. At an early age he studied the violin, but discontinued it after six years of practice. In 1886 he adopted the stage as his profession, and it was during that period that he first took up the guitar. His father taught him the rudiments of the instrument, but beyond that he has never had a master; perseverance and assiduous practice have been the only ones.

Having previously studied harmony and laid down a method of practicing, he devoted four hours a day to the instruments, his profession occupying nearly all the rest of his time. Like many amateurs he tried to begin at the end instead of the beginning, and having found in a music shop Aguado’s Rondos, op. 1 (3 sonatas, about the most difficult compositions ever written for the guitar), yet not knowing at that time that anything easier was to be had, he determined to master these beautiful, but difficult compositions.

His thirst for more music grew apace, and finding that Messrs. Schott and Co. published a list, he soon added these to his store, thus extending his knowledge of the capabilities of the instrument.

About this time he met Mme. Pratten, and it was by her advice that he studied more closely tone and expression; for hitherto execution had been his sole aim.

Mr. Shand has studied the works of Giuliani, Aguado, Sor, Regondi, and all the classical masters, and advises every student of the guitar, who would play it as an instrument and not a toy, to do likewise. He has a large collection of music for the guitar, including Giuliani’s three concertos for guitar and string quartette, or piano, which are now out of print. He has composed a large number of compositions for the guitar, eleven of which will shortly be issued by Messrs. Schott and Co. His first “air varie,” and arrangement of “Songe d’amour,” are published by Messrs. Schott and Bosworth, respectively.

Mr. Shand is now writing a method for the guitar on entirely new lines for beginners, which he believes will be of very great help in removing those obstacles so formidable to young students.

He has played in public at the Winter Gardens, Buxton; Pavilion, Southport; and the Siciety of Artists’, Birmingham. The Birmingham Post, of May 27^th, 1895, said:- “He is an artist who exhibits remarkable skill in his solos.”

Mr. Shand has just been appointed an examiner of the Guild of Violinists.

(Continue from Jules, why? – 2)

Giulio Regondi did not leave us a guitar method. Just for fun, I looked a bit at his New Method for the Concertina and Rudimenti del Concertinista, hoping it might give hint of his musical insights. Maybe even an explanation of why a guitar virtuoso picked up the concertina?

The preface of the New Method for the Concertina tells us a few advantages of the concertina: “chords of 8 notes are easy” and the “florid counterpoint in two or three parts”. As a keyboard instrument, florid counterpoint is expected, but how big of a chord did he want to play? Let’s look at the some diatonic scale harmonization:

And a harmonization of the chromatic scale:

Would Regondi have included these rule of the octave exercises had he written a guitar treatise?

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An important feature of the concertina is the layout of the notes:

As shown above, one would alternate between two hands to play a scale – downward stems are played by the left hand, and upward stems by the right. This “divides between the two hands the work which on other instruments must be done by one hand, hence the capability of the Concertina for rapid execution, for extended intervals and for the endless combinations of three, four and more simultaneous parts.”

This reminded me of the kora, a West African lute-harp that also divide notes into two sides, and just like a concertina, a complete scale is played by alternating notes from the two sides. Going along the train of non-Western instruments, the concertina also has a Chinese connection. The sheng, a Chinese free-reed instrument, was presented at an exhibition in Paris in 1780, and this might have kicked started a trend in Europe to create free reed instruments, such as the harmonica, accordion, and of course, the concertina (check out this clip, about 4 minutes into the program). The article, How the Sheng became a Harp by Carmel Raz discussed in details about the introduction of the sheng into Europe in 18^th century (as well as how the Chinese origin of sheng being obscured).

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Back to Regondi’s method – after the preface, and paragraphs on how to hold the instrument and producing good tone, the method mentions: “… the peculiar charm of the Concertina is sweetness, delicacy, and flexibility of expression…” What would Regondi have said about the guitar?

A good portion of the method then gets into scale and short harmonic progressions in each major and minor key, not unlike a standard guitar method:

The next section discusses enharmonic keys on a concertina, which produces pretty graphics like this one:

Like many 19^th century guitar methods, Regondi’s concertina method devoted a section into the studies of thirds, sixths, octaves, and tenths. The stem directions make these exercises pretty for the eyes, but chaotic for the player:

The same goes for exercises in contrary motion:

What about a page full of contrary motion exercises?

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Following the mechanical exercises are etudes that work on sustained note, clarity of voices, ornaments, and staccato. The section on bellow management is interesting, as Regondi explains changing the bellow at the right time is analogous to singers taking breathes in singing. There was a tradition for instrumentalists to learn from singers, and Robert Schumann’s Advice to Young Musicians included a few vocal-related tips (what makes him say #38 though?):

12- Endeavour, even with a poor voice, to sing at first sight without the aid of the instrument; by these means your ear for music will constantly improve.

13- In case you are endowed with a good voice, do not hesitate a moment to cultivate it; considering it at the same time as the most valuable gift which heaven has granted you!

31- Do not miss an opportunity of practising music in company with others; as for example in Duets, Trios, etc.; this gives you a flowing and elevated style of playing, and self-possession.—Frequently accompany singers.

33 – Love your peculiar instrument, but be not vain enough to consider it the greatest and only one. Remember that there are others as fine as yours. Remember also that singers exist, and that numbers, both in Chorus and Orchestra, produce the most sublime music; therefore do not overrate any Solo.

38 – From vocalists you may learn much, but do not believe all that they say.

44 – Frequently sing in choruses, especially the middle parts, this will help to make you a real musician.

47 – Become in early years well informed as to the extent of the human voice in its four modifications. Attend to it especially in the Chorus, examine in what tones its highest power lies, in what others it can be employed to affect the soft and tender passions.

51- Do not neglect to attend good Operas.

On the last page of the method, Regondi provided another vocal-related remark, specifically regarding the vibrato:

“A continuous quivering of the sound during a melody has become prevalent among certain players who perhaps imagine that by imitating in this manner the tremulousness of voice in which so many singers of the present day indulge to a lamentable degree, they are playing ”with feeling.” It must be carefully avoided by all who aim at purity of style and truth of expression.”

Thanks to recording technology, we can get a glimpse of 19^th century performance practice. My favorite of such recordings include Joseph Joachim’s rendition of Bach’s Adagio from the G minor Solo Violin Sonata BWV 1001, Joachim performing his own Romance in C , and Adelita Patti’s singing Ah Non Credea Mirarti. Compared to today (or, 20^th century?), the 19^th century vibrato sounds more like a “trebling voice”, with a more rapid and narrow pulsation. Regondi seemed to have not enjoyed the vibrato in his own time. I wonder what would he think of the modern day vibrato?

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The Rudimenti Del Concertinista is a slightly shorter method. Unlike the method, the Rudimenti included etudes and pieces by famous composers that were adapted for the concertina. One of these etudes is for tremolo (he sure loved tremolo…):

Another of these etudes has really long and winding phrase markings (!):

The last etude from the Rudimenti is one of an expansive fugue by Bach, from his C Major Solo Violin Sonata (London Bridge is Falling Down…), BWV 1005. My only question here is… did Regondi play Bach on the guitar?

I tried playing some of these concertina pieces from the method and Rudimenti on the guitar. I could only make one work: an Andante from p.29 of the method. I would like to thank the local Rochester luthier Bernie Lehman for lending me one of his replicas of Louis Panormo to make this recording.

Below are two obituaries of Giulio Regondi published in The Musical World on May 18, 1872 (p.315) and May 25, 1872 (p.332) respectively. The original is actually quite readable. I just typed it out for my own reading convenience.

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May 18, 1872

It is almost two years since the above well-known name was no longer met with in concert announcements, nor its amiable bearer’s gentle face seen in those places, where formerly his exquisite talent delighted every one. The great artist is no more – he died on Monday, the 6^th inst., after a severe and painful illness of more than eighteen months’ duration. Giulio Regondi’s unrivalled talent will not be forgotten by those who had the good fortune to hear him play; to others. It will become manifest by many of the compositions he has left. Giulio Regondi would have been a great performer on whatever instrument he might have chosen for the expression of his thorough musical mind; his refined taste would have elevated the poorest medium for the production of musical sounds. Neither the guitar nor the concertina are concert instruments which could be considered graceful; but, in his hands, they spoke with an eloquence never to be forgotten. We only will refer to his charming concertina solo, “Les Oiseaux,” which he used to perform so often to admiring audiences. Giulio Regondi’s talent was manifested very early. He played at public concerts when he was only ten years of age. Some few years later, he was travelling with his friend, Joseph Lidel, in Germany, where they played at Darmstadt, Frankfort, Carlsruhe, and then went to Vienna, playing repeatedly at the Imperial Court, besides giving, with immense success, twelve concerts, in which the son of Mozart also assisted. Not less enthusiastic was Signor Regondi’s reception in Prague, and afterwards in Dresden. That in England he was on musical tours with many of the greatest artists, is well known. He was of the kindliest disposition, ever ready to acknowledge talent in others; and many were the occasions on which his own talent generously assisted any good and charitable object. Signor Giulio Regondi’s funeral took place last Saturday at Kensal Green Cemetery. According to his own particular wish, it was conducted in the simplest manner, in the presence of only a few intimate friends of the deceased. Three mourning coaches accompanied his remains, from his residence in Portman Place, to Kensal Green Cemetery. The mourners were: – Father White (his confessor), Mr. Binfield, Mr. Gaisford, Mr. Boleyne Reeves, Dr. D’Alquen, Herr Lidel, Herr Oberthur, Mr. G. Forbes, Mr. Theed, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Bosen. A private brougham followed, in which were Mrs. Culpin and the Misses Lidel. A beautiful wreath of”immortelles,” white lilies and pansies, the offering of the last-named ladies, was laid on the coffin, which, at Kensal Green, was met by a few attached friends, among whom was a gentleman who came up from Brighton especially for the purpose, and a lady, the wife of one of the mourners, who, at the conclusion of the ceremony, had a white rose tree planted on the grave. Father White performed the funeral service, and the coffin bore the simple inscription: –

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May 25, 1872

It has often been said that the world knows nothing of its greatest men. This is hardly true with regard to the admirable musician and artist who has just left us. The world does know something of Giulio Regondi, though by no means all it might have known. Man is the creature of circumstances; and circumstances were against him, otherwise he would have had a place among the most illustrious sons of art – a place for which he was fitted by supreme endowments. Such a man should not “join the majority,” without the tribute which is his due, the more because, owing to the despotism of events, it was not paid during his life; and we are, therefore, glad to present our readers with an article contributed by one of his personal friends, and most ardent admirers. The details that article communicates will not fail to be read with interest, especially by amateurs who were discerning enough to recognise, during his lifetime, all the merit of the man.

        Our valued contributor, Mdme. Fauche, writes: –

        On Monday, at twelve o’clock, on the 6th of May, 1872, in a small house near Hyde Park, died Giulio Regondi. He was known to the world as a wonderful musician; but that is not the only light in which he merits to be remembered. His first recollection of himself was in a grand old house at Lyons, where he resided with a man who called himself his father, and who gave instruction in the Italian language. Dr. George Young, a physician of repute in London, and brother to Charles Young, the tragedian, was travelling to Italy, but stopped at Lyons to take lessons and improve himself in speaking Italian. In the course of his study, Regondi constantly expatiated on the talents of his son.

        Dr. Young heard Giulio play the guitar, and was both charmed and astonished. He advised Regondi to take the bot to London. It was probably with this object in view that the poor bot was made to practise five hours per day; while the father left home early and only returned to dinner late. The outward door of their apartment was kept locked to prevent the bot from leaving the house, where he remained always alone, and a neighbour, residing in a room adjoining theirs, was induced to watch and report on the boy’s practice. According to that report he was placed at the father’s bedside to make up whatever time he was said to have missed during the day.

        The boy had not remembered having left the house, when a man appeared who measured him for a suit of clothes, in which he went to a public concert where he performed. On that occasion Regondi carried him arrayed in a velvet tunic, ornamented with gold, and a velvet hat and white feathers. On looking at the audience from the back of the stage, the bot was too frightened to move, and Regondi took him and his guitar in his arm and placed them on a stool in the front of the stage. As soon as the piece of music was finished the house rose to applaud and encore, upon which Giulio ran off the stage in alarm. With difficulty he was caught and made to play again.

        He said that he had been sent for more than once to play with the Duc de Bordeaux, but whether in passing through Paris to England, or in England, is not known. He also said (to the writer of this sketch) that, some years later, he became intimate with a gentleman who professed to be the son of Louis XVI (who is thought to have died, and was buried in the prison where the Royal family were confined). This intimacy led to a proposal that he should marry the pretender’s daughter, a proposal which gave him no little discomfort, until a letter from the younger lady explained that, from her father’s destitute state, she felt it her duty to accept an offer she had received, which would ensure him independence for life. On the testimony of several professional gentlemen, who knew Giulio on his arrival in London, he was not seven years old. Mr. Charles Neate was one of those gentlemen, also the late Mr. Tomkinson. His success both in public performances and private society was complete. He made two tours in Germany – one with Mdme. Dulken, the other with Mr. Lidel – in both instances with great triumph. He spent several days at the country seats of the English aristocratic families and went with Regondi to private houses for an hour’s performance, and constantly received a much higher remuneration in presents than the sum for which he was engaged (twenty pounds).

        He believed there must have been several thousand pounds in the finds when Regondi left England with his earnings. At the termination of one London season, Regondi gave Giulio a five pound note, and sent him to prepare for their “season” at Brighton, which they had regularly attended since coming to London. After waiting until his pecuniary resource was exhausted, without receiving any reply to many letters he had addressed to his father, the poor boy drooped and would have died from starvation but for the care and thoughtfulness of his hostess. He was roused by her to the necessity of learning “how to live.”

        It was many years after this event that Regondi “wrote for money, saying he was dying!” Giulio sent for him to London, where he spent the last years of his life. The first medical men in London – Ashley Cooper was one – saw him from time to time, each visit being paid two guineas, besides a daily attendance from his regular physician. We must turn back to the great musical event of his life – the invention of “the concertina” by Mr. Wheatstone. This clever man of science required an artistic mind to bring the instrument into life. Regondi being shown the ingenious masterpiece, was asked what could be done with it. He replied, “My son will bring out its powers if anyone can do so.” The lad did indeed give it life. He did indeed study it! He published a “Method” or “Guide Book,” which gave clear, concise rules for pupils which no master since has been able to improve upon. It is not too much to say that Giulio Regondi’s performance can never be equalled. All he did has died with him. No other equally great musician, with the same scientific talent would likely to devote year after year to the enormous amount of practice which he bestowed on his fingers. And when will an individual arise possessing the taste and refinement which perfected this wondrous union of means to an end? He was a fine linguist, speaking and writing French, Italian, and English with rare purity. He spent but little on his own person, but to those whose age required comforts beyond their means to obtain, or wherever he saw sickness or sadness, he poured forth his earnings with generous sympathy. It is delightful to record the affection and care with which he was watched and attended during the last twenty months of intense and constant sufferings by his professional friends. Every medical treatment and known remedy was applied during his illness. A subcutaneous injection of morphia, continued for several months twice a-day, relieved his sufferings.

        He was a rare creature, and, like all such exceptionally organized men, his experience in life partook of more grief and pain than of enjoyment and pleasure. May a higher state of existence be his portion.

MDME. F.

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These details, while of extreme interest, are of extreme sadness, but the fate of Giulio Regondi is only another illustration of the sorrow which waits upon genius. We join in the concluding aspiration of our correspondent’s letter. Canning called the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old; and were we not instinctively sure of an Hereafter, it would be necessary to create one.