Music and the stars have long - since at least the time of Pythagoras
- been intellectual bedfellows. The lengthy tradition of such
thinking is amply, and very valuably, illustrated in a book such
as Joscelyn Goodwin’s
The Harmony of the Spheres: A
Sourcebook of the Pythagorean Tradition in Music (1993).
One might cite as examples the
Mysterium Cosmographicum (1596)
and
Harmonices Mundi (1691) of Johannes Kepler or the
writings of the Florentine Neoplatonist Marsilio Ficino - supplemented,
perhaps, by a hearing of the fascinating
Secrets of the Heavens (Riverrun
RV RCD53) which features words by Ficino and music by Bartolommeo
Tromboncino, Alexander Agricola and others. Or, indeed, one might
think of compositions as varied as Holst’s
Planets and
Cage’s
Atlas Eclipticalis, Mary Howe’s
Stars and
Gorecki’s
Symphony No. 2 (
Copernican), Per
Norgard’s
Luna or Hovhaness’s
Star Dawn.
Kepler’s thought directly shapes Hindemith’s
Harmony
of the World and astronomical data feeds into a series of
works by David Bedford, such as
Great Equatorial and
Star
Clusters, Nebulae and Places in Devon - the list could, no
doubt, be greatly extended.
Given such traditions it ought not to come as a surprise that
a man we know of primarily as an astronomer, as discover of Uranus
and of infrared radiation, should, as a youth, have been a composer
of some talent. The future Court Astronomer and President of
the Astronomical Society was born in Hanover, the son of an oboist
in the Hanoverian foot-guards. At fourteen William, too, became
a member of the band of the guards. Military defeats led him
to make his way to England where he initially earned his living
as a music copyist in London and then took charge of the band
of the Durham militia - the beginning of a successful career
as a teacher and performer in the North of England. It was in
the late 1750s that he began to compose and these symphonies
are early works. He worked as a church organist in Halifax and
then in Bath - where he quarrelled with Thomas Linley the elder.
His study of the mathematical basis of harmony led him into the
wider study of mathematics and that, in turn, led to an interest
in astronomy (
Herschel
Museum of Astronomy). This amateur
interest in astronomy developed alongside - and gradually overtook
- his
professional
life as
a musician.
By the mid 1770s astronomy had become his dominant concern and
livelihood.
His surviving compositions - in addition to twenty-four symphonies
- include concertos for violin, viola and oboe and a number of
pieces for organ as well as songs, psalm and anthem settings
and six ‘Sonatas for the Harpsichord with Violin and Cello
Obbligato’. The manuscripts of the six symphonies recorded
here provide details (in Herschel’s own hand) of the place
and date of composition. Thus No. 12 is marked “Pontefract
in Yorkshire Decemb. 1st 1761” and No. 14 carries the words “Leeds
aprill the 14th 1762”.
The music of these three-movement symphonies is not, perhaps,
remarkable - save in who its composer was - and certainly isn’t
especially individual. But it is thoroughly competent and well
made; anyone who enjoys the work of, say, J.C. Bach will surely
find things to enjoy here. Indeed, there are some touches in
the slow movements that make one think of C.P.E. Bach and the
music of
empfindsamkeit. On the whole these symphonies
are of more interest for what they do harmonically and rhythmically
than for their relatively unexciting melodic invention.
There is a nice circularity in the fact that after Herschel had
given up composing, his astronomical work inspired new music!
In 1788 the Florentine composer Giuseppe Moneta composed his
cantata
L’Urano, marking Herschel’s 1781 discovery
of Uranus - which he had wanted to call ‘Georgium Sidus
(The Star of George) in honour of George III - for the wedding
of Archduke Francesco. One wonders whether Herschel ever heard,
or even heard of, this musical tribute to the scientific achievements
which had grown from his own study of music.
Glyn Pursglove
London Mozart Players/Matthias
Bamert 
