Fanny Mendelssohn’s musical talent was obvious from a very young age. Privileged by her wealthy background, she and her younger brother Felix were educated by some of the finest piano teachers available. Felix idolized his older sister, and despite an age gap of three years they often referred to themselves as twins.
Both excelled in music, but Fanny – by Felix’s own admission – was the superior pianist. By 13 she had memorized Bach’s complete “Well-Tempered Clavier.”
Unfortunately, the privilege of being from a wealthy family couldn’t overcome the fact that she was female. Upon turning 14, she wrote to her father to ask permission to continue in her musical studies. His response laid out the paths available to her and her brother: “Music will perhaps become his profession, while for you it can and must be only an ornament, never the basis of your being and doing.”
Felix Mendelssohn went on to become one of the most celebrated composers of the 1800s. He and Fanny remained close, and he constantly sought her advice on his compositions. When Fanny died of a stroke aged only 41, Felix was likely shattered. He would die of the same cause just months later.
Although most of her work went unpublished, she had been composing throughout her life. A century or so after she died, interest started to build around her work, and as much of it as possible was recovered and finally appreciated.
Still, for most people she is a footnote to her brother’s legacy. In a more equitable world, their legacies would be as inseparable as they were.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. The way it shifts across unexpected chord changes, like at 1:05.
2. The way it hangs on cadences just a little longer than expected, like at 2:35.
3. The combination of 3/4 time and a minor key makes it sound like a sad waltz danced alone by someone whose partner didn’t show up.
Recommended listening activity:
Sharing an inside joke with a sibling.