The Premiere of Zaïre

As I book tickets for a pre-Christmas theatre jaunt later this year, I find myself in a theatrical frame of mind which is highly appropriate given that today marks the anniversary of a dramatic premiere. We head over the sea today to Paris and the first performance of Voltaire's tragedy, Zaïre, a famed text in French theatre.

By summer 1732, Voltaire was feeling somewhat disenchanted. His previous work, Eriphyle, had not set the world of French theatre alight and audiences and critics asked why Voltaire did not feature love stories more prominently in his plays, as they all fancied a little romantic drama to pass the time. In response, Voltaire worked feverishly on Zaïre  completing the five act tragedy in verse in under a month and offering it as his answer to the critics.

Voltaire

A story of religious intolerance and doomed love, Zaire was to receive its premiere on 13th August 1732 by the Comédie Française at the Théâtre de la Rue des Fossés Saint-Germain. The case consisted of actors well-known in French theatre and tickets were in high demand as the audiences of Paris waited to see how Voltaire would respond to the relative failure of Eriphyle.

In fact, as the crowds filed out onto the Rue des Fossés Saint-Germain, the responses were somewhat muted. There were some criticisms of thematic elements and one or two of the cast but Voltaire would not be defeated and revised the work until it was agreed by all concerned that the play was a triumph. Due to demand it ran for 31 performances and Voltaire took the company to Versailles, where Zaïre was performed for the court.

Following its European success, Zaïre was translated into English and performed in London in 1737; to this day it remains a popular piece and has inspired multiple operas and other dramatic works.

The Lichtenberg Scrapbooks

Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (Ober-Ramstadt, Hesse-Darmstadt, 1st July 1742 - Göttingen, Germany, 24th February 1799)

As regular visitors to the salon will know, I am a lady who loves to write. Whether fiction or fact, there is little I like better than settling at my bureau to set down tales of the long 18th century but today's guest makes me look positively lazy! Georg Christoph Lichtenberg was a gentleman of many and varied interests; scientist, writer and, would be novelist, though one plagued by procrastination, at his death he left behind a wealth of what have become known as scrapbooks, called Sudelbücher by Lichtenberg.

As a student at Göttingen University, Lichtenberg began keeping notebooks. He identified each of the exhaustive volumes by a letter of the alphabet, beginning A in 1765. At the time of his death 34 years later, he was well-embarked on volume L. 

These notebooks were not a record of studies and research though, nor a collection of memoirs; instead they were jumbled and scattershot lists of quotations or books, reflections on life in general and articles of varying lengths on a variety of subjects. There is no narrative or overarching philosophy, no system or plan, they are the thoughts that occurred to Lichtenberg noted down without any plans for subsequent publication.

The books did not remain private for long and a year after Lichtenberg passed away, his relatives published the Sudelbücher in their entirety over a period of years. A second print run followed after which all of G and H and most of K disappeared from the collection, apparently because they contained material that might be considered contentious or overly personal. The remaining books were given to Göttingen University, where they have remained ever since.

The Murder of ​​Johann Joachim Winckelmann

​​Johann Joachim Winckelmann (Stendal, Germany, 9th December 1717 – Trieste, Italy, 8th June 1768)

Johann Joachim Winckelmann by Anton von Maron, 1768

Johann Joachim Winckelmann was a man who knew a thing or two about history and was not averse to the odd bit of adventure. A leading authority on Greek and Roman archaeology and art, Winckelmann's work was hugely influential in the field of art history, bringing new theories and insights to the fore in his writings and discoveries.

Today marks the anniversary of the death of this great thinker but the method of his passing was for from distinguished. Instead, it was tragic, violent and senseless and came at the height of Winckelmann's fame. It came as he was travelling across Europe, returning from an audience with Maria Theresa of Austria, where he had been richly decorated.

Winckelmann arrived in Trieste on 1st June 1768 and took up residence under an assumed name in a local inn as he waited to sail for Rome. Here he became acquainted with the occupant of the neighbouring room, Francesco Arcangeli, a 31 year old unemployed cook and petty criminal. The exact nature of the relationship has been debated and discussed ever since Winckelmann's death with many scholars suggesting that the two men were lovers for the duration of Winckelmann's stay in Trieste. Certainly he and Arcangeli spent many long hours together and dined alone each night; Arcangeli was by all accounts fascinated by the historian, who shared with him tales of his adventures and illustrious friends.

On 7th June Arcangeli launched a frenzied and ultimately unexplained attack on Winckelmann, initially attempting to strangle him with a length of rope and then, when this failed, stabbing his victim multiple times. Eventually he fled, leaving the fatally injured Winckelmann to seek help to treat the wounds that would soon kill him. In fact Winckelmann lived on for just a few short hours and though he forgave Arcangeli before he died, that was not enough to save the life of his murderer.

Arcangeli was swiftly arrested and interrogated several time over the following days. He gave a number of reasons for the attack ranging from robbery to political intrigue but the verdict came quickly enough and Arcangeli was sentenced to death. The condemned man was executed on the wheel in front of the inn where he had killed Winckelmann, the true motive for the crime forever unknown.

The Electrified Life of John Canton

John Canton FRS (Stroud, Gloucestershire, England, 31st July 1718 – London, England, 22nd March 1772) 

The salon welcomes a gentleman of science today as I share a pot of tea with John Canton of Stroud, a physicist of some renown who made his name thanks to a most magnetic personality.

Canton was born to a non-conformist weaver, John, and his wife, Esther, and showed a keen intelligence early in life. Despite his academic ambitions, the child was taken out of school before his tenth birthday to take up the family trade but continued with education in the evenings once his working day was finished. He designed and carved a sundial that was displayed in front of the family home and passing travellers called in to enquire as to who created the device. One of these was Dr Henry Miles who, upon learning of the boy's talents, took a personal interest in his education.

Eventually it became apparent to his father that Canton's gifts did not rest in weaving and he agreed that his son could travel to London, where he lodged with Dr Miles, who saw in his boarder great potential. With encouragement from his patron, at the age of 19 he became a clerk to Samuel Watkins, the master of Spital Academy, a school in Spital Square, London. 

Once his five year apprenticeship was finished, Canton enter into partnership with Watkins and remained at Spital Square until his death. In fact, he would eventually take over the School entirely in 1745, whilst his social circles expanded to include scientific and philosophical names. Just a year before he became Master of the Academy, he married Penelope Colebrooke and the couple had three sons together.

Although he later participated in a number of experiments around electricity and was the first man in England to trial Benjamin Franklin's experiments with lightning, it was for his interest in magnetism that Canton was known. He appeared before the Royal Society in 1750 to read his paper on artificial magnets, which resulted in his being elected as a fellow. Ignoring apparently unfounded allegations of plagiarism from John Michell of Cambridge, the Society awarded Canton the Copley Medal for his achievements in 1751. 

He continued his interest in electricity and and phosphorescent materials, all the time continuing to work as a schoolmaster whilst winning a second Copley nomination for his experiments that proved water was compressible. A highly sociable chap with a love of society and good food, Canton died of dropsy aged just 53.

Johann Hamann: The Magus of the North

Johann Georg Hamann (Königsberg, Kingdom of Prussia, 27th August 1730 – Münster, Germany, 21st June 1788) 

My first, very brief topic here on the Guide was a philosopher and now, a couple of months and many quills later, I'm back where I began with a thinking chap. There are a fair few philosophers of one stripe or another around Covent Garden but they're somewhat dependent on the gin bottle for their thoughts so I shan't be wasting any ink on them!

Born the son of a barber-surgeon and a midwife, Johann Hamann initially studied theology and philosophy before switching to law and then prevaricating between any number of subjects. Unable to settle on one topic he never completed his studies and instead took up a position as governor and tutor to the children of a wealthy family. Further business roles followed and he travelled widely and spent freely until, with his last penny spent, Hamann found himself destitute, his friends deserting him as his coffers dwindled.

In search of a new start the young man devoted himself to religious studies and also to Katharina Berens, the sister of a family friend. Deeply in love with Katharina, he was devastated when her family refused permission for them to marry on the grounds of Hamann's sudden and devout faith and withdrew back to the family home. With the help of his friend, Immanuel Kant, Hamann secured a position as a civil servant and devoted his free time to study and writing under pen names including the Knight of the Rose-Cross and the Magus of the North. Despite his deep religious faith he took up home with a woman and had four children with her, maintaining a happy family household.

Hamann's writings were always brief; he disliked long-winded exposition and exposed on the philosophical importance of language. He was a critic of the Enlightenment and wrote of the vital importance of religion, believing that faith, not reason, was central to human experience. His writings influenced the later German Sturm und Drang movement and had a profound effect on other thinkers including Kierkegaard and Goethe, who followed his complex theories and developed them in their own work. 

Towards the end of his life Hamann's writings became even deeper and he examined the very foundations of philosophy and humanity, frequently challenging head-on the theories of his contemporaries. In the final months of his life he travelled to Münster at the invitation of Princess Gallitzin to discuss philosophy with her; Hamann died during this trip, leaving behind a wealth of writings that still fascinate today.

"Everywhere he is in chains...": Jean Jacques Rousseau

Jean Jacques Rousseau (Geneva, Switzerland, 28th June 1712 -  Ermenonville, France, 2nd July 1778)

Jean Jacques Rousseau by Jean Jacques Rousseau, Maurice Quentin de La Tour, 1753

Writer, philosopher, composer and all round thinking man, Rousseau's political philosophy had an enormous impact not only in his time but far beyond. The father of the modern biography, a philosophical architect of the French Revolution and Jacobin Club mainstay, Rousseau's views were not universally popular.  His remains were eventually interred in the Pantheon and even now his theories are hotly debated by modern philosophers.