Felix Mendelssohn
Composer

A Banker's Son With a Piano Problem

I was born in Hamburg in 1809 into a family that took both money and ideas seriously: my father Abraham was a banker, and my grandfather was the philosopher Moses Mendelssohn. My sister Fanny was a gifted composer and pianist, and the two of us grew up sharing music the way other children share toys. I took piano lessons from my mother, among others, and from at least 1819 I studied counterpoint and composition with Carl Friedrich Zelter, which is the craft of making several melodies share the same space without arguing. I also attended lectures at the University of Berlin from 1826 to 1829, so I was never only a boy at a keyboard.

Too Good Too Early

In 1825 I wrote my String Octet, and in 1826 I wrote the Overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream, which means the best-known things I did as a teenager are still played today. Then in 1829, aged 20, I conducted the Berlin revival of Bach's St Matthew Passion. Hardly anyone had heard that huge work for years, and the audience seemed to realize they had been missing something important. That performance helped bring Bach back into concert life, and I was quite proud to have been part of it.

Leipzig, Where I Finally Unpacked

I tried a few places before I settled down, and my first real job was as musical director in Düsseldorf from 1833. I resigned at the end of 1834, and in 1835 I took over the Gewandhaus Orchestra in Leipzig, which suited me far better. In 1837 I married Cécile Jeanrenaud, and we had five children, so my house was rarely quiet. In 1843 I founded the Leipzig Conservatory, because I wanted young musicians to learn their craft properly in one place.

The Piece That Walks Down the Aisle

The piece on this site is the Wedding March, which I wrote as part of my music for A Midsummer Night's Dream. It opens with bright fanfares that sound like someone announcing that the important part is about to begin, and then the main tune strides forward with great confidence. I never imagined it would be used for real weddings, but in 1858 it was played at the wedding of Queen Victoria's daughter Victoria, the Princess Royal. People have been walking out of churches to it ever since, and it remains popular at weddings today.

The King's Plan That Never Quite Arrived

From 1840 King Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia asked me to lead music reforms in Berlin, and I took the invitation seriously. The funding for the school we had planned never materialised, so I went back to Leipzig, where at least things worked. There is also a quieter matter in my family: some of Fanny's songs first appeared under my name. Nobody knows exactly why, though it may have been family prejudice and her own retiring nature, and I admit it still troubles me.

Ten Trips and a Very Sad Year

I loved Britain and visited ten times, and many of my major works were first performed there. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert admired my music, and in 1846 my oratorio Elijah premiered in Birmingham. Then in May 1847 my sister Fanny died, and the loss distressed me greatly. I died in Leipzig in November of that same year, aged 38, after a series of strokes, and I was buried in Berlin.

Out of Fashion and Back Again

After I died, my reputation declined in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, partly because tastes changed and partly because of antisemitism. A monument to me was put up in Leipzig in 1892, and the Nazis removed it in 1936. I am glad that people have since looked at my music again with fairer eyes, and that a replacement monument was put up in 2008. The conservatory I founded also gave Leipzig a place for musicians to learn, which I count as part of what I left behind.

What I Hope You Take Home

I would like you to hear my music as a conversation with a friend who is glad to see you, rather than as a lecture. Some of it is playful, some of it is stormy, and some of it is quiet and thoughtful, but all of it was written with care. You do not need to know any theory to enjoy it, because a good tune does its work without being explained. So when you hear the Wedding March, I hope it brings a smile, and I hope it makes you curious enough to listen to what else I wrote.