Letters of Felix Mendelssohn to Ignaz and Charlotte Moscheles — Context and Discussion

Candid Critiques and Professional Rivalries

Mendelssohn and Moscheles do not shy away from strong opinions. In one excerpt, Moscheles dismisses Berlioz's Requiem, which the Gazette Musicale exalted above all music, writing: 'You know I am not a believer in this genius.' He asks Mendelssohn for his own verdict. Such exchanges reveal a circle of musicians who debated each other's merits openly. The editor acknowledges that many passages contain 'unreservedly criticised' figures, and he trusts that time has 'judged between the critics and those criticised.' Readers will encounter Mendelssohn's assessments of Liszt, Berlioz, and others, often delivered with the frankness of private correspondence.

Practicalities of a Composer's Life

Alongside artistic discussions, the letters dwell on mundane but revealing details. Mendelssohn writes to Moscheles for advice about a faulty Erard grand piano, weighing the cost of shipping it to England for repairs against buying a new one. He describes the instrument's tone as retaining 'its original power and beauty,' but its mechanism is unreliable for public performance. This practical dilemma—balancing quality, expense, and convenience—offers a glimpse into the logistical challenges faced by touring musicians. Moscheles, in turn, mentions the Philharmonic Society's conflicting demands, likening the task of satisfying them to 'the Danaïdes filling their tub.'

Tone and Voice in the Correspondence

The letters are marked by a warm, playful tone. Moscheles compares Mendelssohn's revised A major Symphony to 'a beautiful girl in a new dress,' and Mendelssohn's own letters, as the editor notes, are 'thoroughly characteristic of the bright and genial way' he expressed personal feelings. The editor also remarks that passages of less general interest were retained because they 'truly depict the warm friendship' between the two men. Readers should attend to the shifts in register—from affectionate banter to serious critique—as evidence of a relationship that allowed both candor and humor.

Because the excerpts are incomplete, the full arc of the friendship and the range of topics covered remain partly inferred. The letters span years and include references to performances, compositions, and mutual acquaintances. Readers are encouraged to note how Mendelssohn's voice evolves—or remains consistent—across the correspondence, and to consider the editor's role in selecting and framing these documents. The volume stands as a primary source for understanding Mendelssohn's personal and professional world, filtered through the lens of a devoted friend and translator.

Rain came down steadily that afternoon, and I sat with Mendelssohn’s letters, struck by how gently he teased Moscheles about mathematical fancies. His playful stubbornness reminded me of something older, quirkier—so I set him aside and pulled up A Budget of Paradoxes, Volume I — Story, Setting & Ideas. One book simply handed me to the next, like a quiet turn in conversation.