Fritz Kreisler
The Non-Roguish Rogue

What would you say if a famous violinist had been premiering newly-discovered songs of famous composers that he had recently discovered in old archives and libraries?

The critics raved on the discoveries! They were masterpieces by the masters! Exquisite! Perfect! Sublime!

And then you learned he had written them all himself!

Fie! you would say. What a scoundrel, knave, and varlet! He should be hounded from the musical profession and banned from the stage forevermore!

Instead, the world said, "Nice job, Fritz!"

Today the songs that were originally performed as compositions by classical composers and are now known to be written by Fritz Kriesler are played by violinists the world over. And they're played as songs by Fritz Kreisler.

So why, we wonder, wasn't everyone miffed?

Well, first a bit about Fritz Kreisler.

Born in 1875, Fritz grew up in Austria and was a child prodigy. He entered the Vienna Conservatory at age eight and performed his first concert at age 11. This was also the same year that Fritz gave his first concert in America.

Fritz moved to the famed Paris Conservatory. But as he got older - and perhaps a bit irritated that older musicians resented a young kid who could play better than they could - he switched to the study of medicine. Later he joined the Austrian Army and served as an officer.

But of course, Fritz's real avocation was music. After his military service he began performing with top-notch orchestras and in sold out recitals. By 1904 he was even making those new fangled recordings.

So things went along until 1914 when the World-That-Didn't-End-All-Wars broke out. Fritz rejoined the Austrian Army - actually the Austria-Hungarian Army - but was soon discharged after being wounded.

Out of the Army, Fritz now began an extended tour in the United States which was still neutral. He found the Americans congenial as always and was still in the US in 1917 when America declared war on Germany.

And Austria.

Fritz could have been interred as an enemy alien, but as violinists never seem to be much of a national security threat, he was left at liberty. Still, having been an officer in the enemy army - even if they hadn't been enemies at the time - raised quite the ruckus. Protest broke out about his concerts, and so Fritz discontinued touring. But he did so with such good grace that when the war was over, his concerts started again up as if nothing had happened.

However, for the next war, Fritz wasn't so tolerant - of Germany. With the Nazi Anschluß in 1938, Fritz left Austria and in 1939 moved to America. Four years later became an American citizen.

Fritz kept performing regularly but in 1941 when crossing a street he was hit by a truck. His skull was fractured and he was unconscious for a week. Ultimately he did return to concert playing but never completely recovered his health. He died in 1962, age 86, in New York City.

And Fritz Kreisler, who had become one of the most popular classical violinists of the early 20th century, did indeed perform songs billed as works by François Couperin, Antonio Vivaldi, Giovanni Battista (who wrote with the nom de plume Padre Martini), François Francoeur, Johann Stamitz, and Gaetano Pugnani.

The critics heaped praise - not just on Fritz's playing - but on the works themselves. The newly discovered oeuvre, they said, were exquisite, sublime, and dang it, not half bad. Other violinists also began playing these long lost pieces mit gern.

But there were - ah - unusual statements in the concert brochures. For instance, when Fritz performed the - quote - "Vivaldi Concerto in C" - unquote - he had added the note "This concerto is freely treated from old manuscripts and constitutes an original work. When this concerto is played in public, Fritz Kreisler's name must be mentioned in the program."

Hm. What, as Flakey Foont asked Mr. Natural, does it all mean?

Or more explicitly, why did Fritz write the songs and claim that they were written by others? And why when everyone learned about the serendipity did they just shrugged their shoulders and say "Good Old Fritz"?

For one thing, it turns out the claims were not done with any malicious intent. The song were written simply to expand the violin repertoire. Fritz played a lot of recitals either for solo violin or only with a piano accompanist. At the time there just weren't that many songs that fit the bill. I mean, how often can you hear Bach's "Gavotte en Rondeau"? So Fritz thought new songs were in order.

But having programs where Fritz was playing most everything by Fritz would just look too tacky. And it certainly wouldn't do to claim he was playing newly discovered songs by Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach. That would certainly smack of dishonesty, and no one would have believed him in any case.

So a nice compromise would be to pick out the lesser known composers - yes, at the time Vivaldi was a minor player - and to say he had found the compositions amongst the dusty shelves of old libraries. That way he wouldn't be claiming he was playing stuff by superstars, and he wouldn't putting on airs by playing his own songs.

Besides, there were people suspecting that Fritz had written the songs. And when asked, Fritz would 'fess up. One of Fritz's friends, the elder statesmen of violinists, Eugene Ysaÿe, asked wasn't it true that the songs were original compositions?

When Fritz said yes, Eugene asked why the heck didn't he claim proper credit? I mean other violinists were playing the pieces, and Fritz should be known as the true composer. Fritz let it slide.

But soon the knowledge that Fritz had written the songs became a professional secret. And other violinists thought the songs were fine even if they were by Fritz. Georges Enesco, who taught Yehudi Menuhin, told his students to get Kreisler's works and study them - and forget whoever the "composers" were on the front page.

Finally the music critic, Olin Downes broke the story. He had been putting two and two together and wrote to Fritz and asked point blank if he, Fritz, had written the songs. Fritz replied by telegram he had.

As to why people shrugged the matter off, well, they just took Fritz at his word. His intentions were good, it wasn't like he was slapping a bunch of paint on a canvas and claiming it was a painting by Picasso. And besides, when you got down to it, Fritz was a pretty nice guy.

References

Fritz Kreisler, Louis Lochner, MacMillan, 1950.

"Fritz Kreisler", Legendary Violinists, Thirteen: Media with Impact.

Reader's Digest Scoundrels & Scalawags, Readers Digest Association, 1968.