The bear growls

Accounts of music in early 18th-century Germany are invariably dominated by Johann Sebastian Bach. Although Bach's musical stature is indisputable, it has led to other musicians being overlooked, including those whose biography or opinions are much more richly documented. These lesser-known figures can give important insights into the diversity of musical life in the period, its social contexts, and also how music's value was bitterly disputed.

One such little-known yet fascinating figure is Johann Beer (1655-1700), who was concertmaster and librarian at the Weissenfels court until his death from injuries in a shooting accident. Nowadays he is best known for his many novels, which are in the picaresque tradition, telling the life-stories of rogues and vagabonds; they also include vignettes of travelling musicians, town instrumentalists and castratos. Many of the characteristics of his novels can also be discerned in his musical treatises, which are distinctive for their originality, colourful metaphors and attention to music's social context. A further document is Beer's diary from the last decade of his life, which was discovered in 1963, although then subsequently lost. On first reading we might be disappointed by the terseness of the entries, and by Beer's apparent preoccupation with macabre or supernatural events; yet the diary also chronicles the frenetic pace of life at the Weissenfels court, with Beer being summoned at 3 a.m. to go riding with his patron, or hosting an impromptu gathering in his house with oboists and his patron at 5 a.m.

The original editions of Beer's novels and treatises survive in only a few libraries; it is therefore welcome that a scholarly edition of his writings, produced under the supervision of Ferdinand van Ingen and Hans-Gert Roloff, is now approaching completion. All Beer's novels have been issued in the edition, and the two volumes under review contain his musical treatises.

The chief item in Beer's musical writings is his Musicalische Discurse, a collection of 60 short essays published posthumously in 1719. Lorenz Christoph Mizler complained that 'this book contains no fundaments, but merely transcribes what one would talk about in company over a glass of wine' (Neu eröffnete musikalische Bibliothek, iii (1752), p.65). Yet the book's very informality gives insights into socio-economic concerns that are rarely recorded elsewhere. Whereas many theorists of the time carefully pass down an intellectual tradition from their forebears, Beer is writing from the experience of his own career, having learned from his mistakes. He discusses whether court or town is a better workplace for a musician; he asks (perhaps with an eye to his own prospects at the Weissenfels court) whether a musician can be ennobled; and he gives advice on text-setting and how to compose a Kyrie. On performing matters, he specifies the minimum size of a 'complete' ensemble (four singers, two violinists, organist and director) and recommends that the members be of the same nationality and religious denomination (having Italian musicians among Germans, he says, is like mixing cats with dogs). There are many colourful vignettes in the book, such as the Polish student who plays the violin with so much energy that it seems as if he would fall from the window, or the tale of a trombonist and bassoonist vying to prove whose instrument is superior.

Whereas the Musicalische Discurse covers subjects rarely found in music theory, Beer's Schola phonologica was intended for composition students, and discusses the more usual topics of modality, counterpoint and ornamental figures. Some of the chapters transmit the ideas of previous theorists: the discussion of musical figures, for instance, is indebted to Christoph Bernhard (chaps.23-32). Other chapters, however, offer...