My Life, vol 2 | Page 3

for
assimilation. Consequently I had no reason to discourage the young
man's confidence in his capacity for the career of a musical director. As
the winter season was approaching, I asked the manager of the theatre
for the address of Herr Kramer, who was coming for the season, and
learned that he was still engaged at Winterthur.
Sulzer, who was always ready when help or advice was needed,
arranged for a meeting with Herr Kramer at a dinner at the 'Wilden

Mann' in Winterthur. At this meeting it was decided, on my
recommendation, that Karl Ritter should be appointed musical director
at the theatre for the ensuing winter, starting from October, and the
remuneration he was to receive was really a very fair one. As my
protege was admittedly a beginner, I had to guarantee his capacity by
undertaking to perform his duties in the event of any trouble arising at
the theatre on the ground of his inefficiency. Karl seemed delighted. As
October drew near and the opening of the theatre was announced to
take place 'under exceptional artistic auspices.' I thought it advisable to
see what Karl's views were.
By way of a debut I had selected Der Freischutz, so that he might open
his career with a well-known opera. Karl did not entertain the slightest
doubt of being able to master such a simple score, but when he had to
overcome his reserve in playing the piano before me, as I wanted to go
through the whole opera with him, I was amazed at seeing that he had
no idea of accompaniment. He played the arrangement for the
pianoforte with the characteristic carelessness of an amateur who
attaches no importance to lengthening a bar by incorrect fingering. He
knew nothing whatever about rhythmic precision or tempo, the very
essentials of a conductor's career. I felt completely nonplussed and was
absolutely at a loss what to say. However, I still hoped the young man's
talent might suddenly break out, and I looked forward to an orchestral
rehearsal, for which I provided him with a pair of large spectacles. I
had never noticed before that he was so shortsighted, but when reading
he had to keep his face so close to the music that it would have been
impossible for him to control both orchestra and singers. When I saw
him, hitherto so confident, standing at the conductor's desk staring hard
at the score, in spite of his spectacles, and making meaningless signs in
the air like one in a trance, I at once realised that the time for carrying
out my guarantee had arrived.
It was, nevertheless, a somewhat difficult and trying task to make
young Ritter understand that I should be compelled to take his place;
but there was no help for it, and it was I who had to inaugurate
Kramer's winter season under such 'exceptional artistic auspices.' The
success of Der Freischulz placed me in a peculiar position as regards
both the company and the public, but it was quite out of the question to
suppose that Karl could continue to act as musical director at the

theatre by himself.
Strange to say, this trying experience coincided with an important
change in the life of another young friend of mine, Hans von Bulow,
whom I had known in Dresden. I had met his father at Zurich in the
previous year just after his second marriage. He afterwards settled
down at Lake Constance, and it was from this place that Hans wrote to
me expressing his regret that he was unable to pay his long-desired visit
to Zurich, as he had previously promised to do.
As far as I could make out, his mother, who had been divorced from his
father, did all in her power to restrain him from embracing the career of
an artist, and tried to persuade him to enter the civil or the diplomatic
service, as he had studied law. But his inclinations and talents impelled
him to a musical career. It seemed that his mother, when giving him
permission to go to visit his father, had particularly urged him to avoid
any meeting with me. When I afterwards heard that he had been
advised by his father also not to come to Zurich, I felt sure that the
latter, although he had been on friendly terms with me, was anxious to
act in accordance with his first wife's wishes in this serious matter of
his son's future, so as to avoid any further disputes after the friction of
the divorce had barely been allayed. Later on I learned that these
statements, which roused a strong feeling of resentment in me against
Eduard von Bulow, were unfounded; but the despairing tone of Hans's
letter, clearly showing that any other career would be repugnant to