There is a certain amount of truth in the saying ‘you can't teach an old dog new tricks’; for even though Dvořák's first masterpieces came as he was approaching 40, he'd been composing since the age of 14. Even earlier was Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus (more commonly known as Wolfgang Amadeus) Mozart; he started when he was five. He wasn't writing his first masterpieces at 40, as he had died by 35, but these started to come when he was about 19. Much is made of Mozart's precociousness, that it is evidence he was the greatest genius of all; but this assumes that his precocity was down to Mozart and Mozart alone. It was in fact down to the other Mozart – Leopold, his father. Because music was made the primary occupation of the young Wolfgang, his natural aptitude for the thing was able to be drawn out – propelling him to reach heights otherwise impossible for an older dog.
‘But what of Emmanuel Chabrier?’, you may ask. His first composition was written when he was eight or so, in 1849. His bourgeois family, appreciative of a comprehensive education as they were, started him on music lessons when he was six. His 19-year stint as a civil servant came after his parents insisted that he study law. He only actually pursued a musical career once they had both died in the Paris commune.
In perusing the catalogues of great composers, you find very few who did not start music at an early age. In terms of Wolfgang Amadeus, his introduction was forced – there was no way he was going to have any other career: Leopold said ‘music’ and so music it was. The same applied to Beethoven, who was beaten by his alcoholic father every time he played a wrong note.
That many of our greatest composers were produced through designation says as much perhaps about domestic life over the past few centuries as it does about what makes a genius. In the 20th century, Benjamin Britten was not forced into a musical career, but encouraged towards it because it was something he enjoyed. By his parents and from a young age, of course.
This is perhaps the better model. For however much I love Beethoven, I could not conscionably suggest the reader get drunk and start beating their students upon each wrong note. Instead, it is yet another call for the early introduction of music; not for the hackneyed ‘memory’, ‘confidence’ and ‘coordination’ arguments, but for the grand purpose of ushering in the next generation of musical geniuses.
