The Hildesheim trunk was discovered in the soon to be demolished
ruins of a church in Hildesheim, Germany. Its contents included
a hand-written Testament, thought to be by Herr Gratchenfleiss himself,
and a book of printed music in an edition dated 1823, with an introduction
surprisingly written in English. It is thought they were placed
there, inside a casket tomb in the crypt of the church, (that of
Karl Finkel – who was a student of Herr Gratchenfleiss in
the 1790s) to escape the destruction of the Funerary Purges some
time in the 1830s. It is most unfortunate that water penetration
and the other unsavoury contents of the tomb had caused the trunk
itself to rust heavily and the contents to be largely destroyed
by mould. The few fragments of the testament, together with a handful
of the 100 or so pieces in the book, are all that are decipherable.
We will never know whether these were the best or the worst of his
many works, nor which pieces were composed when in his long career:
those that have survived are certainly flawed, and it is well known
from the accounts that we have, that he would improvise extravagantly
around the written notes: but they do demonstrate a truly original
imagination and a surprisingly modern sensibility.
The music itself is remarkable in many ways: its rigorous abandonment
of functional harmony, looking back instead to a more modal style
based upon shifting drones which allows for the occasional use of
non-traditional scales; a considerable use of repetition far beyond
even the most tedious composers of his day, yet without undermining
the notion of a musical journey; the occasional burst of extraordinary
dissonance unseen in any other composer since the renaissance, until
the late works of Beethoven fifteen years after his death; the brevity
of many of the works (making them momentary glimpses of an emotional
state) which predates the later similar smaller works of Schumann
by two decades; and his remarkably modern conception of violin technique,
often treating it more as a rhythm and harmony instrument than a
lyrical and melodic single voice. All of these idiosyncrasies are
born of the music’s unique function – that of the funerary
violinist; to express the inexpressible, to become the voice of
the unnameable sorrows of mourning and to transfigure them into
a vision of hope. It is clear from his Testament that he abhorred
empty virtuosity, and many of these works could technically be played
by the average student, but from accounts of his performances it
can be assumed that his own playing was truly exceptional. In addition
it is well known that he improvised around the notes, which implies
that these works are really little more than sketches of spaces
that he would explore more rigorously in live performance. Despite
attempts to eradicate his legacy, attempts that were only truly
undermined by the discovery of the Hildesheim trunk, it is clear
that his vision had a considerable influence on later musicians
and that without him, the later masterpieces of Paganini, Schumann,
Chopin etc., to name but a few, may not have been written as they
were.
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Born in 1830, in the outskirts of
Vienna, to a family of cabinet makers, Wilhelm Kleinbach
was to be the last of the notable Funerary Violinists.
A grand-student of Herr Gratchenfleiss himself, he had
taken up the profession just as the Great Funerary Purges
were destroying it, and continued the practice in secret
into the early 20th century, through an underground
network of dedicated followers of the art. Often performing
in the dead of night at Vienna’s Zentralfriedhof,
before a select gathering of cognoscenti assembled to
hear his performance, and who often hadn’t known
the deceased, Kleinbach developed an international reputation
amongst the handful of individuals still taking an interest
the art......
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