The Great Modulator

When the first performance of Cesar Franck's Symphony in D Minor was given in Paris in 1889, critics were almost unanimously indignant. Sniffed one of them: "Why play this symphony here? Who is this M. Franck? A professor of Harmonium, I believe." Cesar Franck was then 67, an advanced age for a man offering his first symphony. He had already composed his Symphonic Variations for piano and orchestra, his fiery Sonata for Piano and Violin; he was an esteemed teacher. But he was still almost unknown to the Parisian public.

Paris and the world finally did hear and approve of Cesar Franck the composer, and his Symphony has become a beloved favorite of concert audiences. But even to the audiences that clamored for his music Franck the man remained unknown.

Last week, in a new addition to the slender list of Franck biographies (Cesar Franck; Philosophical Library, $4.75), British Critic Norman Demuth told a good deal about the composer. He also told a little--unfortunately only a little--about amiable, warmhearted Cesar Franck himself.

No Royal Favor. Franck was born a Belgian. Like Mozart, he was the victim of a pushing father who insisted that the "exceptional boy" bring fame & fortune to the family by becoming a virtuoso pianist. When young Cesar began to teach, Franck pere drew up a table showing the exact time it should take Cesar to get from pupil to pupil, then back home again to his practice. When the young man insisted on composing as well as performing, father Franck brashly had Cesar dedicate his first published music to King Leopold I, hoping for Belgian royal favor. None came; so the family moved back to Paris, where Cesar began to teach piano and got a job as church organist, first at St. Jean-St. Francois and later at Ste. Clotilde where he played for 42 years.

In 1848, while the streets of Paris were barricaded by revolutionists, the young composer-organist got married. His actress-wife tried to liven him up a bit, teach him dancing, take him to the theater. But, writes Biographer Demuth, "Franck slept through all the performances, remarking that they were a waste of time otherwise." His tastes led more in the direction of the opera bouffe "and he delighted in Offenbach because he said that the operas made him laugh."

No Principal Key. His own music was serious, passionately melodic, chronically chromatic and constantly shifting key. His motto was "Modulate." Once, listening to the improvisations of a bright young student named Claude Debussy, Franck cried, "Modulate, modulate!" Debussy replied: "Why should I when I am perfectly happy in this key?" and forthwith changed teachers. He enraged such enemies as Camille Saint-Saens and baffled occasional defenders like Ambroise (Mignon) Thomas. Said Thomas: "How can you describe a symphony as in the key of D minor when the principal theme at the ninth bar goes into D flat, at the tenth C flat, at the 21st F sharp minor. . . ?"

The public, on first hearing Franck's String Quartet in 1890, was scarcely bothered by such details. Dignified, muttonchopped Composer Franck was recalled by the applause time after time. "There," he said, "they are beginning to understand me at last."

The understanding, local though it was, came just in time. Not long afterward, Franck was run down by an omnibus; in six months he was dead.

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