Is there a lover of chamber music unfamiliar with Franz Kneisel’s name?  It may be doubted.  After earlier European triumphs the gifted Roumanian violinist came to this country (1885), and aside from his activities in other directions—­as a solo artist he was the first to play the Brahms and Goldmark violin concertos, and the Cesar Franck sonata in this country—­organized his famous quartet.  And, until his recent retirement as its director and first violin, it has been perhaps the greatest single influence toward stimulating appreciation for the best in chamber music that the country has known.  Before the Flonzaley was, the Kneisels were.  They made plain how much of beauty the chamber music repertory offered the amateur string player; not only in the classic repertory—­Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Spohr; in Schubert, Schumann, Brahms; but in Smetana, Dvorak and Tschaikovsky; in Cesar Franck, Debussy and Ravel.  Not the least among Kneisel’s achievements is, that while the professional musicians in the cities in which his organization played attended its concerts as a matter of course, the average music lover who played a string instrument came to them as well, and carried away with him a message delivered with all the authority of superb musicianship and sincerity, one which bade him “go and do likewise,” in so far as his limitations permitted.  And the many excellent professional chamber music organizations, trios, quartets and ensembles of various kinds which have come to the fore since they began to play offer eloquent testimony with regard to the cultural work of Kneisel and his fellow artists.

[Illustration:  FRANZ KNEISEL, with signature]

A cheery grate fire burned in the comfortable study in Franz Kneisel’s home; the autographed—­in what affectionate and appreciative terms—­pictures of great fellow artists looked down above the book-cases which hold the scores of those masters of what has been called “the noblest medium of music in existence,” whose beauties the famous quartet has so often disclosed on the concert stage.  And Mr. Kneisel was amiability personified when I asked him to give me his theory of the perfect string ensemble, and the part virtuosity played in it.

“THE ARTIST RANKS THE VIRTUOSO IN CHAMBER MUSIC”

“The artist, the Tonkuenstler, to use a foreign phrase, ranks the virtuoso in chamber music.  Joachim was no virtuoso, he did not stress technic, the less important factor in ensemble playing.  Sarasate was a virtuoso in the best sense of the word; and yet as an ensemble music player he fell far short of Joachim.  As I see it ‘virtuoso’ is a kind of flattering title, no more.  But a Tonkuenstler, a ‘tone-artist,’ though he must have the virtuoso technic in order to play Brahms and Beethoven concertos, needs besides a spiritual insight, a deep concept of their nobility to do them justice—­the mere technic demanded for a virtuoso show piece is not enough.