Klindworth has probably not yet had time to write to you about my first appearance, but he is going to do so.
After the first rehearsal the directors of the “Philharmonic” were so delighted and full of hope that they insisted upon my performing some of my compositions at the very next concert. I had to yield, and chose the pieces from “Lohengrin.” As for that purpose they granted me two rehearsals, I also fixed upon the “Ninth Symphony”, at which I am pleased, for I should not have given it with one rehearsal. The orchestra, which has taken a great liking to me, is very efficient, and possesses great skill and fairly quick intelligence, but it is quite spoilt as regards expression; there is no piano, no nuance. It was astonished and delighted at my way of doing things. With two further rehearsals I hope to put it tolerably in order. But then this hope and my intercourse with the orchestra are all that attracts me here; beyond this all, all is indifferent and disgusting to me. The public, however, have distinguished me very much, both in receiving me and even more at the close. Curious to me was the confession of some Mendelssohnians that they had never heard and understood the overture to the “Hebrides” as well as under my direction.
Enough of this.
Many thanks for your introduction to Bruzot; I long for a piano and for my work. To the Grand Duke also I am much indebted.
Let the Hartels have my “Faust” overture by all means. If they could turn the twenty louis d’or into twenty pounds, I should be glad. In any case they ought to send the money here as soon as possible. I do not like to dun the “Philharmonic” for my fee, and therefore want money. The proofs of the score they must also send to me for correction.
The publication of this overture is, no doubt, a weakness on my part, of which you will soon make me thoroughly ashamed by your “Faust” symphony. When shall I hear something of that? I am afraid my chances of seeing you here have declined, since you write about this “Hungarian” commission. I can imagine how the invitation has pleased you; and I too am pleased and most curious to see your work. But when shall I see something of all this, you reticent person? Do you not feel how I must long for such cordials amongst the trivial surroundings in which I always live? I must confess, however, that I always prefer becoming acquainted with your creations through yourself. In that manner everything is disclosed to me at once that otherwise I have to disclose to myself painfully. This happened to me in the case of your “Kunstler”, while all that you gave me yourself at the piano at once penetrated me by dint of unconditional and perfect artistic enjoyment.
When shall we see each other, you most amiable and noblest of men?
Most stupidly I was unable at “Paris” to remember the address of your children, nor could I think of “Belloni’s” address. By taxing my memory I went half mad. Now, stupid fool that I am, it occurs to me that I need only have gone to “Erard’s.” In this manner I deprived myself of the pleasure of seeing them once more, which grieves me very much. Please let me have the address for my return journey.


