Thomas Baltzar was one of the many expatriate musicians in seventeenth-century
London, a figure of considerable importance in English musical
life for a period in the middle years of the century, either side
of the Restoration. Born in Lübeck in 1630 or 1631 into a well-established
family of musicians, by 1653 Baltzar was working at the court
of that extraordinary monarch Queen Christina of Sweden. It’s
worth noting in passing that Veronica Buckley’s marvellous Christina,
Queen of Sweden, 2004, provides a fascinating account
of her life and of the environment in which Baltzar must have
worked. Christina abdicated in 1654 and by March of 1656 Baltzar
was working in London. Given his background, some referred him
as ‘The Swede’ and others as ‘The Lübecker’, where they didn’t
use his actual name. Under whatever name, he dazzled most of his
London hearers. John Evelyn, diarist, connoisseur – and much else
– left an account of hearing him soon after his arrival in London.
The diary entry is dated March 4th 1656, and deserves
quotation in full (I have modernised slightly):
“This night I was
invited by Mr. Rog. L’Estrange to hear the incomparable
Lubicer [Lübecker] on the Violin, his variety upon a
few notes [& plain ground] with that wonderful dexterity,
as was admirable, & though a very young man, yet so perfect
& skilful as there was nothing so cross and perplext, which
being by our Artists brought to him, which he did not at first
sight, with ravishing sweetness, & improvements, play off,
to the astonishment of our best Masters: In Sum, he plaid on
that single Instrument a full Consort, so as the rest, flung
down their Instruments, as acknowledging a victory. As to my
own particular, I stand to this hour amazed that God should
give so great a perfection to so young a person. There were
at that time as excellent in that profession as any were thought
in Europe: Paul Wheeler, Mr. Mell and others,
’til this prodigie appeared & then they vanished, nor can
I any longer question, the effects we read of in Davids
harp, to charm malign spirits, & what is said of some particular
notes produced in the Passions of Alexander & that
King of Denmark.”.
Others wrote with
equal enthusiasm of his playing and he became an established
figure on the musical landscape of his newly adopted country.
We know that he played in the production (in 1658 or 1659) of
Sir William Davenant’s The Siege of Rhodes; that
around the same time he made a considerable impact when he played
at some of the musical evenings in Oxford organised by William
Ellis, formerly organist of St. John’s College. There he seems
to have outclassed the available competition – including the
English violinist Davis Mell. Anthony Wood recorded his “astonishment”
at hearing Baltzar play in Oxford; John Wilson, Professor of
Music in Oxford is said to have knelt – in jest - to study Baltzar’s
feet to see whether or not he was man or devil, “because he
acted beyond the parts of man”.
Certainly Baltzar’s
surviving compositions for solo violin – all gathered here –
suggest a player well able to move around the instrument with
considerable ease and rapidity. More strikingly they illustrate
what Evelyn surely meant when he wrote that Baltzar “plaid on
that single Instrument a full Consort”. Here is music which
creates the effect of several voices, of polyphonic writing
for the solo instrument. We are used to that, of course, in
the music of Bach, handled with a sophistication and beauty
way beyond Baltzar; baroque specialists are familiar with something
similar in the work of earlier figures such as Walther and Biber.
But Baltzar’s music predates any of these, and must have created
a real sensation when first heard by English listeners; no wonder
that, as Evelyn puts it “the rest, flung down their Instruments,
as acknowledging a victory”. His use of scordatura, to
be heard in the four brief pieces which close the CD, is amongst
the earliest instances known beyond Italy and must have been
equally startling to his English hearers.
The compositions
of a practising violinist famed as a virtuoso quite often come
as something of a disappointment. And, to tell the truth, the
works gathered here might not excite away from their biographical
and historical contexts. No doubt much that was most exciting
in Baltzar’s playing was improvised. Patrick Wood plays with
precision and appropriate gravity, elucidating the polyphonic
textures of Baltzar’s music with admirable clarity and he benefits
from a good recorded sound. His performances have an air of
conviction and certainty that put the case for Baltzar very
effectively. The resulting CD is rather short in playing time,
but it would, I think, have been unfortunate to fill it up merely
for the sake of extending that playing time. Baltzar’s surviving
works for solo violin deserve to be in the spotlight without
having to share it. All with an interest in the history of the
violin repertoire, or in the ‘English’ music of the seventeenth
century should hear this CD.
After the restoration
of Charles II in 1660, Baltzar was given appointments first
in the King’s Musick and then in the elite group of the King’s
Private Musick (at a handsome salary of £110 per year). He died
in July 1663, his death (according to Anthony Wood) being brought
on by his “drinking more than ordinary”.
Glyn Pursglove
Patrick Wood
(violin) 
