Friends and Relations: The Ophicleide
By Stephen J. Weston, ed. Edward Solomon
The
trombone must be considered an oddity in the modern brass family because
of its distinct mechanism, yet how much odder would seem an instrument
of trombone range which uses an ascending mechanism, achieving its chromaticism
by the use of keys which shorten the tube. Such an instrument was, and
is, the ophicleide. The present tense must be used because of the slow-moving,
but steady revival of interest in this distinctive piece of Victoriana,
which played a vital role in the Romantic orchestra, and which has never
been adequately replaced. It remained in common use up to the end of
the 19th century, and makers even listed it into the first couple of
decades of this century. The bass keyed brass were particularly successful
in the bass because a keyed instrument works by effectively shortening
the sounding length by opening holes in the tube. As a result, it proceeds
upwards from a good fundamental of the whole tube to equally good fundamentals
of the keyed notes, whereas a valved brass instrument proceeds from a
good fundamental of the natural tube to the worst notes in its compass,
which are produced by the combination of the maximum number of valves,
which are therefore badly out of tune.
Unfortunately, written descriptions, and even the names of instruments in orchestral scores, are not always reliable. When valved brass instruments came into use, some were made in the same shape as the ophicleide and, even though they had valves instead of keys, were also called ophicleides! In some parts of Europe, bass ophicleides and valved tubas were indiscriminately called bombardons. Thus the word ophicleide does not always mean the keyed instrument, nor does the word bombardon necessarily mean a valved instrument. We can always be certain that a bass brass instrument is meant, but not necessarily which instrument the composer had in mind, nor, worse still, which instrument was actually employed to play the part. This was a time of transition and such parts were typically played on whatever instrument happened to be available.
The
name ophicleide means keyed serpent (Greek: ophis =
serpent; kleis = key), the instrument deriving its ancestry
from the side-holed, cup-mouthpiece family which started with the comett
and includes the keyed trumpet, for which Haydn wrote his concerto. The
ophicleide rejected the serpent's sinuosity and instead adopted an upright
shape, doubled back on itself, owing something to the form of the bassoon.
The bass instrument in C is of conical bore expanding from about 15mm
to a bell diameter in the region of 200mrn. The nine to twelve keys are
proportional to the bore at the point they are mounted, and resemble
the larger keys of a tenor saxophone. The difference between the ophicleide
and woodwind keywork is that, apart from the large first key, mounted
on the bell, all the keys are closed, there being no open finger holes.
An eleven-keyed bass in C has a fully chromatic range from the fundamentals
to the eighth harmonic, giving a range from the third B below middle
C to the first C above middle C.
The
timbre is highly individual, giving a hollow, euphonium-like quality,
but resembling a full-blooded contrabassoon when played forte;
and yet, because of the mechanics of the instrument, and the fact that
only the notes of the B series employ the bell, the overall effect cannot
really be likened to contemporary instruments. The ophicleide was invented
by the Frenchman Halary in 1817, and yet patent was deferred until 1821
because the instrument was thought to resemble the basse-guerrière of
Dumas, which was in fact a bass clarinet. Some of the finest ophicleides
were made in the second half of the century by Gautrot Aîné and
Courtois. The English virtuoso Samuel Hughes,
who was professor at the Guildhall, used some remarkable twelve-keyed
Courtois instruments which are still extant today. The instrument was
never really accepted in the German and Austrian states, largely to due
it being unknown by mainstream composers. Furthermore, Wilhelm Wieprecht,
the Prussian bandmaster, saw fit to berate the ophicleide, as well as
the other available bass brasses of the day, including the bass trombone,
the English bass horn and the serpent, in the prologue to his Bass-Tuba Prussian
Patent No.9121 of 12 September 1835. Nevertheless, the ophicleide soon
became established in orchestras and bands in Italy, Spain, England,
Wales, and the USA, although it did not succeed in military circles as
much as in civilian bands, which is possibly attributable to its rather
fragile form. Ophicleide solos became quite popular, ranking alongside
cornet solos, which were usually transcriptions of songs or airs
variés and numerous distinguished players were attracted
to it: William Ponder was known to have played the serpent in 1829, but
switched over to ophicleide five years later; he was succeeded by Jean
Prospère Guivier (born 1814 in Vilna, Lithuania, joined a French
military band and later became a horn student at the Paris Conservatoire),
who took up the ophicleide in the 1830s in Paris, playing with Jullien's
orchestra, and moved to London in about 1840. In 1853, when the orchestra
went on its American tour, Samuel Hughes replaced Prospère, and
he remained the leading light in English ophicleide playing for almost
forty years more.
In the orchestra, the ophicleide was given a rôle as contrabass to the trombone section, a position filled by the contrabassoon in some of Beethoven's works. Berlioz used the orchestral C ophicleide in conjunction with the military B flat to eliminate problems caused by those notes produced by keys most distant from the bell; these can have a muffled quality. With instruments pitched one tone apart, problem notes will only appear on one instrument at a time. This is why the Symphonie Fantastique (1830) has two tuba (originally ophicleide) parts. Sometime after 1858, Berlioz gave permission for the B flat part to be played on an E flat tuba; the tuba of the time was of much narrower bore than the modern instrument and was more compatible with the ophicleide. The present author has performed the Berlioz Te Deum on a mid-19th century ophicleide, sharing the double part with a modem EE flat tuba. The effect was interesting, but totally unbalanced, the ophicleide merely adding an edge to the mellow timbre of the tuba. There is certainly a case for using a section of medium-bore tenor trombones, a small single E flat bass tuba and an original ophicleide in C for authentic performances of Berlioz works. Perhaps the time is coming when trombonists will be expected to double on medium- or even narrow-bore instruments.
One of the most celebrated ophicleide parts is that in Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream (1826/42), now usually played on a tuba, although a four-valved euphonium would be preferable, because of the range, where the original instrument is unavailable. Schumann, Wagner, Rossini, Donizetti and Verdi, amongst others, used the ophicleide occasionally. The tuba is, of course, the natural choice to replace the ophicleide as, apart from bore profile, mouthpiece, mechanism, timbre and range it is exactly similar. All that has been said in favour of the baroque flute, oboe, and violin is doubly true of the ophicleide, as the instrument which replaces it belongs to a different family. An analogy would be to replace a contrabassoon with a baritone saxophone.
The ophicleide revival, which was probably instigated by David Rycroft in 1965, has continued - up to the recent formation of the London Ophicleide Ensemble. The greatest current ophicleidist is undoubtedly Alan Lumsden, perhaps better known as a sackbut and serpent player. Clifford Bevan (The Tuba Family, Faber, London 1978) describes him as having "the dexterity of a trained flautist and the embouchure of a professional trombonist". It is this last point which is of most significance to trombonists; while tuba players such as the late John Fletcher, Stephen Wick, Tony George and Clifford Bevan himself are successful ophicleidists, the mouthpiece and range of the ophicleide are much closer to the trombone, and it may be that, as the trend towards authenticity creeps through the twentieth century, more trombonists, like Tom Winthorpe of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, may take up the challenge and join the small, but dedicated group of exponents of this strange but obsessive instrument.
Resources
- The Cambridge Companion to Brass Instruments
(Cambridge Companions to Music)
by Trevor Herbert (Editor), John Wallace (Editor)
Published by Cambridge University Press
Publication date: October 1, 1997
ISBN: 0-521-56522-7
- Brass Instruments
Their History and Development
by Anthony Baines
Published by Faber & Faber
Publication date: 1976
ISBN: 0-571-11571-3
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