These extraordinary specimens of “the Waltz style” as applied to the capabilities of such an instrument as the Double Bass were some of the last “playful Exercises” which Dragonetti wrote to evince his wonderful command over that Gigantic instrument. He was fond of playing them to me in his own room (although no terms ever induced him to perform them in public), as he knew that I was acquainted with the complete and usual limits of the contrabasso in the hands of other performers, and that I therefore was perfectly aware of what was going forward when he was applying his own system of bowing, peculiarity of expression, striking character et cetera, to them; and certainly the mode in which he performed these admirable and masterly compositions of their class, was such as I never expect to hear again accomplished, as long as I may live; and which will probably never again be heard by anyone, on the Double Bass, as long as the world lasts.
Vincent Novello
In 1849, three years after the death of Domenico Dragonetti (1763 – 1846) and before he retired to Italy, Vincent Novello (1781 – 1861) donated Dragonetti’s manuscripts to the British Library. Novello, an executor to Dragonetti’s will, had tried to collate and organize the vast collection of manuscripts. The words above, oft-quoted, were written on the first page of the Twelve Waltzes for unaccompanied double bass. They give a clear indication of their close friendship and also of Novello’s great admiration for the famous double bassist. Novello was present when Dragonetti died, inherited most of his archive, and, thanks to his foresight, the eighteen volumes of manuscripts have survived to the present day.
Domenico Carlo Maria Dragonetti was the most remarkable double bass player of his age. He was the first bass player to enjoy an international reputation and was one of the leading figures in British musical life for over fifty years. He was born on 7 April 1763 in the parish of St. Trovaso in Venice. At the age of nine, he:
[…] was accustomed surreptitiously to purloin his father’s guitar, and in a remote quarter of the house to practice upon the instrument.
He also received violin instruction from a local shoemaker called Giacomo Sciarmadori:
The slender assistance he derived from this good-natured mechanic was sufficient for the lad (who at that time was not twelve years old) to convert his knowledge of the violin to the practice of the double bass.
Domenico subsequently studied with Michele Berini, the principal bass of the Ducal Chapel at St. Mark’s, but after eleven lessons, Berini declared that he could teach him nothing further.
At the age of thirteen, Dragonetti was appointed Primo Basso at the Opera Buffa in Venice. A year later held the same position at the Grand Opera Seria, and in 1787 succeeded Berini at the Ducal Chapel. His fame quickly spread throughout Europe:
[…] and when only eighteen years of age, he received a tempting offer to enter the service of the Russian Court; and in consequence, he applied to the procurators of San Marco’s for leave to resign: they however so fully appreciated his talent, that they increased his salary, and took upon themselves the office of declining his acceptance of the offer from the court of Russia.
Dragonetti discovered his famous double bass, made by Gasparo da Salò (1540 – 1609), in Vicenza, having been engaged to perform there in the Grand Opera. The instrument belonged to the monastery of San Pietro, and the remarkable qualities of the bass have been documented many times. In 1794, recommended by the singer Madame Banti, Dragonetti was offered an engagement as principal bass at the King’s Theatre in London. His fee was “£250 and benefit,” Banti receiving “£1,400 and one or two benefits.” His first benefit concert was held at the Concert Room of the King’s Theatre on 8 May 1795. The program included two solos by Dragonetti, a Capriccio and a Concertone (a work he played on many occasions), songs performed by Madame Banti, an overture by Haydn, and the tickets “10s 6d to be had of Mr. Dragonetti. No 29, Suffolk Street, Charing Cross, etc.,” his first known residence in London.
Dragonetti quickly established himself as a remarkable player, his reputation having preceded him, and he dominated the musical life of London and beyond for over fifty years. In 1794, Robert Lindley succeeded Sperati as principal cellist at the Opera, and:
[…] from this time to the date of his death in 1846, no great concert or musical festival, whether in London or the provinces, was considered complete without a performance by Dragonetti, and duets with Robert Lindley, the equally famous cellist, were events of frequent occurrence. These two wonders played at the same desk at the opera and elsewhere for over half a century, and the story of their united career would be practically the story of musical progress in England during that period.
Dragonetti and Lindley would often perform duets by Corelli to great acclaim, and at the Seventh Philharmonic Concert of 1839, the review concluded:
Dragonetti and Lindley played the fourth sonata of Corelli (Op. 5) in their own inimitable style… Perhaps on no former occasion did this eminent performer and Lindley exhibit their wonderful talents to greater perfection! The double stops, and variations of Lindley’s own creation, were given with purity and roundness of tone which no living violoncellist can ever hope to rival, and the great Dragonetti proved himself, as we have before said unimpaired in his musical powers — and who can attempt to define them in language? The inseparable couple retired amidst a roar of applause, in which we joined with hand and heart.
Dragonetti was universally acknowledged to be the finest double bass player globally and received excellent and glowing reviews wherever he performed.
Dragonetti died in London on 16 April 1846 at the age of 83, and “Count Pepoli, the Italian poet, Mr. Novello, Mr. Pigott, and Mr. Tolbecque were with the musician during his last moments.” Vincent Novello was one of the executors of the will, and Dragonetti bequeathed his large library of vocal music, music scores, and his own double bass compositions to him. Dragonetti’s reputation today rests on the many reviews of his wonderful performances as a soloist, chamber musician, and orchestral player, which, alongside contemporary accounts of his eccentricities and unique mode of speech name, ranks alongside Bottesini and Koussevistky as a double bass legend.
In recent years there has been a resurgence of interest in Dragonetti’s original works for double bass with an increasing number of publications and recordings year by year. Access to his manuscripts is the easiest it has ever been, thanks to the internet, and scholarship and research allow some of his music, after decades of neglect, to be heard again. Was Dragonetti a great composer and forgotten genius? I don’t think so, but the music already unearthed does demonstrate a talented composer who knew how to please his audience. He was probably self-taught as a composer, and his performances must have been stunning. He must have possessed a charismatic personality and stage presence because we are still talking about him more than 150 years after his death.
Dragonetti’s Twelve Waltzes for unaccompanied double bass are probably his most famous works and exist in many editions. Although Vincent Novello describes them as “some of the last ‘playful exercises’ which Dragonetti wrote to evince his wonderful command over that gigantic instrument,” there is no indication of when they were composed. Dragonetti could have stopped composing just before his death which would date them to the 1840s, or he could have stopped in the 1820s, in which case they would date from that time. We have no indication from the manuscripts — Dragonetti rarely, if ever dated his works — so any suggested year of composition is mere supposition or speculation. According to Novello, Dragonetti never performed the waltzes in public but did perform them for his friends in his own lodgings. He performed as a soloist during his first years in London, from 1794 to around 1800, and would then only appear as a soloist for an extra fee, which was boosted even further if the organizers wanted him to perform one of his own works. Dragonetti was a shrewd and successful businessman who certainly knew his worth!
Novello wrote at the top of the first page of the composition, “Twelve Waltzes for the double bass, composed by Dragonetti, and this copy is in his own hand-writing,” when he presented the manuscripts to the British Library in 1849. The manuscript has six pages of music, two waltzes per page, and they are clearly written on the whole, although there are many corrections, changes, and additions. Novello’s comments, at the top and bottom of the first page, fortunately, add extra information about the pieces which would have been lost.
Each of the twelve waltzes follows the same pattern and suggests that Dragonetti may have been testing himself to write something new for each one but in a similar style. They are all in ternary form (ABA) — A is always a major key, and B is the relative or tonic minor, apart from Waltz No. 11, which modulates to the subdominant key — D and G majors, respectively. They are mainly in bass clef, using the orchestral range of the instrument, although there are the occasional forays into the higher register. Dragonetti uses a range of keys, without any relationship from one to the next occasionally, and employs many scalic figures, arpeggios, and double stops to significant effect, alongside the contrast of high and low registers. The waltzes have much to offer the bassist in terms of musical, technical, and performance challenges. Two or three performed together could be effective as a contrast of Bottesini, Eccles, and Koussevitsky. Still, it is unlikely that Dragonetti intended them to be performed as a set.
Much of Dragonetti’s music is of its time, but his incredible showmanship and performance skills must have been exceptional to elicit such outstanding concert reviews. He was much loved and respected by his friends and colleagues, idolized by the audiences, and certainly put the double bass “on the map” like no one before him. Dragonetti left an enduring legacy as a performer, and his many works deserve the occasional performance to celebrate the genius of “Il Drago.”
Conclusion
In summary, “Dragonetti’s Twelve Waltzes” illuminate the extraordinary musical prowess of Domenico Dragonetti, the renowned double bass virtuoso. Vincent Novello’s recollections, inscribed in 1849, offer a glimpse into the private performances of these waltzes, emphasizing Dragonetti’s unparalleled command over the double bass.
Dragonetti’s life journey, from self-taught beginnings in Venice to international fame in London, establishes him as a legendary figure in classical music. The discovery of the Twelve Waltzes, donated by Novello to the British Library, unveils Dragonetti’s compositional genius. Although undated, these waltzes showcase his structured exploration of the double bass’s capabilities, presenting musical and technical challenges.
While Dragonetti’s fame rested on performance, the recent resurgence of interest in his compositions underscores his enduring legacy. Accessible manuscripts and contemporary performances celebrate “Il Drago,” recognizing his contribution to elevating the double bass and leaving an indelible mark on classical music history.
