Loser's POV? Fritz Riemann (1873-1888)

Now accepting suggestions for a better title.

As expected, Amos Burn won the vote (albeit by a smaller margin than I anticipated) given in our previous discussion (see here) and thus he moves on while we say goodbye to Fritz Riemann. Seeing as the previous chapter contained a more technical summary of Riemann, this edition will be more biographical in nature. It'll also be longer than I'd like, and I promise that not all of these posts will be as monstrous.

The definitive source for everything on Riemann is, of course, his autobiography:

Riemann initially planned to release this book in 1918 to celebrate his teacher's 100th birthday, and limit the content to include solely what happened between him and Anderssen. World War 1 and the problems that accompanied it delayed the publication until 1925, during which time Riemann incorporated details about the rest of his career in the decade or so after Anderssen's death. It includes over 500 total games, most of which aren't in the popular databases, and I'm especially pleased to find games from one of the tournaments I wasn't able to talk about in Winner's POV proper. We have a whole bunch to get through before that, however.

Early Life

Fritz Riemann was born on 2 January 1859 in modern day Bystrzyca Dolna, a village in southwestern Poland (though at the time it was a town in Silesia, a region claimed by the German Empire since 1871). By 1873, the Riemanns had moved to the Silesian capital, Breslau, and the young Fritz was enrolled at the Friedrichsgymnasium, the school where chess legend Adolf Anderssen was employed as a math teacher. This was quite a delight for young Riemann, who had been playing chess regularly with his father Wilfried Riemann (described by Fritz as "a strong player not to be underestimated") and had defeated him in a February match 7-2. It wasn't until June that the 14-year-old asked his teacher to play a game with him, and after a little hesitation, Anderssen ultimately agreed and the two played their first game on 16 June.

The format of this post makes it impossible for me to really show how often these two played, but I'll do my best to summarize. Riemann has games dated between 16 June 1873 and 23 April 1878 (a little under five years total). Here, in the table of contents, is every game he published:

These are just the published games; it's been speculated that the two played closer to a thousand total games. This time period isn't restricted to just games against Anderssen; the teacher forced his student to play against a laundry list of other Breslau players, including another student of his, Arnold Schottländer (Riemann won a formal match 5-0 against him). The point I'm trying to make is that, despite the majority of games discussed in this chapter taking place after Riemann and Anderssen parted ways, the vast majority of Riemann's total games were probably played in this half-decade.

I suppose I should show some of these games. Since we're already going to be looking at almost 30 games, I'll keep this short. Let's look at the first encounter between the student and the teacher back in the Summer of 1873, and progress to one of their final encounters in 1878. Perhaps I'll dedicate a future blog to some others, when I have the time.

The only event these two travelled to together was the 1877 congress in Leipzig, colloquially called the "Anderssen Jubilee." While Anderssen was doing battle in the master tournament (see here for Louis Paulsen's perspective), Riemann was allowed to participate in the Hauptturnier. It was a one-game knockout, played at the same blistering pace of two games per day, ensuring the entire tournament would finish in two days (there were other tournaments the players could enter afterward, so the schedule had a little more utility than usual).

Riemann's first opponent at 9am was a local player, Carl Doppler. Theirs was the only game to end in a draw, so a second had to be played in the afternoon. Riemann ultimately won this, but by then the second round had already started, and he was forced to play his third game of the day at 8pm. Waiting for him was Dr. Carl Schmid, who Riemann considered to be his equal on a good day. This was not a good day, and this second Carl delivered Riemann his first loss, knocking him out of the tournament.

Schmid ultimately came second, losing in the final to Carl Wemmers (who would make appearances at the master tournaments in Leipzig 1879 and Berlin 1881 before dying in September 1882). In the "Free Tournament," a classic all-play-all, Riemann and Schmid tied for first, splitting the top prizes.

Things continued as normal until the Summer of 1878, when Anderssen left for the Paris tournament. While he seemed to be in good health and at the top of his chess abilities, a dormant illness flared up and was to blame for his poor result (12.5/22, sixth out of 12). When he returned, just in time for Riemann's final exam, he was a ghost of his old self: "His body, otherwise well-nourished and strong, consisted of only skin and bones. His eyes were sunken, lacking their usual fire. I will never forget the farewell I said to him after passing my exams to enter the University of Leipzig. Despite my young age, I had to realize, with deep sadness, that this tremendous personality, this sparkling spirit, was coming to an end, and I hardly dared hope to see him again."

Riemann did meet Anderssen again, around Christmas time later that year. Anderssen's health hadn't improved at all, and in addition to his decayed physical appearance, he had lost all of his wit and charm in conversation. This seemed to trigger something within Riemann, who claimed it was around then that he decided that chess wasn't suitable for much more than the occasional recreation. He had spent the past five years training extensively under Anderssen, and at 19 years old he was already a fully developed player. But with Anderssen went Riemann's desire to practice regularly, and from here his activity drastically decreased.

University Life

Now in Leipzig, Riemann joined the "Augustea" chess club, the stomping ground of Johannes Minckwitz, among others. He became something like the club's emissary, visiting other clubs and events as their representative. For example, in February 1879, he and Minckwitz visited the newly opened club in Braunschweig—playing chess, indulging in the banquet, and giving blindfold displays (something Riemann was on record stating he detested, but acquiesced to every so often) were all on the docket.

Later in the Summer, Riemann alone was sent to the northern town of Wesselburen to compete in the "North Albing Chess Congress." Augustea was represented splendidly as Riemann swept aside eight of the other nine competitors; the ninth, Martin Bier, was the only one to take him down, and would become a recurring character in the ongoing story of our subject.

The most important event of the Summer, doubtlessly, was the 1st German Chess Association congress in Leipzig (which Berthold Englisch smoothly dominated, see here). Although Riemann had previously crossed swords with some of the established masters (Minckwitz, Schallopp, and apparently Bier), this was his first time doing so in an organized competition, and against players of the caliber of Louis Paulsen (who I think could still claim to be the strongest player in all of Germany).

The anxiety that plagued Riemann at the start of this event manifested in the worst possible way, as he lost his first game horribly: after springing a strong novelty against Adolf Schwarz, he hallucinated and mixed up a move order, getting checkmated on move 17. He went on to lose five of his first six games, including a pair of relatively short losses to the Paulsen brothers. Although he managed to rally in the back half, he ultimately finished in fifth (6/11), one spot below the prize winners (Englisch 9.5/11, L. Paulsen 9/11, Schwarz 7/11, Bier 6.5/11).

I have to wonder if the news of Anderssen's death affected Riemann's play. He was doubtlessly informed at this congress—there's no chance that Anderssen's death wouldn't have been a common talking point at the country's most important chess gathering—but he wasn't able to visit Breslau until a month later. After receiving the student's condolences, Anderssen's sister surprised Riemann by presenting him with Anderssen's favourite chess set, given to Anderssen as a gift when he visited London in 1851. Riemann held onto and maintained this set for the rest of his life.

Riemann moved to Berlin at the tail end of 1879, and while he participated in the activities of the Berlin Chess Society (with Emil Schallopp among its ranks), he focused more of his attention on his studies and less on chess. He intentionally avoided going to the tournament in Wiesbaden, and only travelled to Braunschweig (the host of the 13th West German Chess Congress) to meet with his friends from last Summer. These friends obviously talked him into playing (why Riemann expected otherwise is beyond me), and he had probably the best result of his career thus far: sole second (7.5/10), behind Louis Paulsen (undefeated 9/10) but ahead of Minckwitz, Adolf Schwarz, Wemmers (all 7/10) and others like Bier and Schallopp.

There are more good games to show from this event than the previous. The first two should speak for themselves: one is a nifty Berlin endgame grind, the other is an improved attempt to topple Louis Paulsen. The third, against Wilfried Paulsen, is especially interesting; Riemann and his friend Alexander Fritz (who scored 2.5/10) spent the evening before the final day at a rural dance, which didn't end until the sun came up the following morning. Riemann quite literally fell asleep at the board, and was only able to win on account of Wilfried Paulsen chivalrously agreeing to adjourn. The game was omitted from Riemann's book, but I said in the last post that I'd include it, and include it I have.

His Summer chess-playing escapades marked the last time Riemann played at all regularly. As the Winter 1880/1881 season came and went, he played on occasion but he repeated how he shifted his focus more and more to his studies. The majority of 1881 was spent preparing for the "traineeship examination," which looks to be one of the requirements for becoming a lawyer in Germany—how it compares to the modern-day bar exam is left for someone else to explain.

Come September, Riemann participated in the German Chess Association's second tournament in Berlin (see Blackburne's rampage here), but he admitted that his split attention couldn't be easily overcome: "That no one can serve two masters is certainly not generally true, like every so-called proverb, but I had to experience firsthand that serious preparation for an exam is incompatible with a chess tournament." Riemann won only four of his 16 games, including the Rook endgame against Mason posted in the last chapter. Below I show the other two deep-in-the-endgame wins.

Professional Life

We've arrived at the part where Riemann's chess-playing reached a new level of inactivity. He completed university and started his work as a trainee lawyer, and nothing notable happened until the Nuremberg 1883 tournament. Riemann, like the eventual champion Winawer (see here), had no intention of playing; he was simply passing through on his way to Zell am See (a city in west-ish Austria) to visit a sick relative. Just like in Braunschweig, Riemann's friends convinced him to play, and he had another successful tournament, sharing the sixth/seventh prizes with Henry Bird.

Keeping this long break in mind helps to explain why Riemann's style evolved the way it did. His preference to get his opponents "out of book" likely stemmed from his inability to study, but his combinational vision decayed much more slowly (as we repeatedly see whenever the older masters play tournaments nowadays). His more noteworthy games were published in the last chapter, but I have a few for you here as well.

After about a year spent away on business, Riemann returned to Breslau in the Spring of 1884, where he believed the playing strength of the resident masters to be higher than ever. He got in plenty of good practice, and by the time of the Hamburg 1885 congress, his confidence was uncapped. As can be expected of somebody who so infrequently played in tournaments, things didn't go to plan: "Although I achieved notable successes against my strongest opponents, Gunsberg, Mason, Englisch, Mackenzie, and Schallopp, I let myself get carried away against weaker players, so that I drew against Taubenhaus, for example, and even lost against Bird and Dr. Noa. Although I shared the 7th and 8th (really 8th and 9th. Steak) prizes with Schallopp, if one only considered the successes of the prize winners among themselves, I was in first place."

There's a couple of interesting takeaways from that quote. It would appear that Riemann also considered Bird a weak player, so I feel just a little more vindicated. The last sentence is particularly interesting; is Riemann's claim true? Well, let's look at the crosstable:

I count a score of 5/8 for Riemann, which is indeed =1st with Gunsberg. Neat.

Again, the better games were all posted in the last chapter, so the ones I share below are primarily of narrative importance.

Although he remained in Breslau, Riemann didn't really play any chess for the next couple of years. It wasn't until December of 1888 that he would step into the arena once more, in celebration of Augustea's 40th birthday. Included in the festivities was a master tournament, featuring top German masters Siegbert Tarrasch and Curt von Bardeleben, but also upcoming players like Jacques Mieses. 

The rust was not at all apparent in Riemann's play as he surged out to a 5.5/6 lead (he published every game except his draw with von Bardeleben). Yet, the final round had enough drama: "I would have won first prize if I had accepted Mieses' offer to end the last game as a draw. However, since I was focused on the game, not the prize, and believed I could still win it, I declined this offer. Unfortunately, at the end, I was suddenly overcome by a severe nosebleed, so that I could hardly think and, at the given moment, failed to find the planned path to equalize, giving Mieses the opportunity to decide the game in his favor with a surprisingly fine final play." After a drawn playoff game with von Bardeleben (also not published, unfortunately), Riemann ended the tournament in shared first, which should definitely be considered the highlight of his career.

Conclusion

After this, Riemann never played another serious chess game or event again, though he remained an honoured guest whenever he attended any of the regional German congresses. He had a long and successful career in law and politics, serving as an Erfurt city councillor, police commissioner, and chairman of various courts and committees through and past World War 1. He would pass away on 25 November 1932 in Erfurt.

I hope today's exploration into the career of this relatively unknown master was enlightening and entertaining. Future posts will not be anywhere near this long, but this book gave me so much delicious trivia that I felt like it would be a disservice to not include some of these tasty morsels. Hopefully you all can forgive me.

In our next discussion, we'll be comparing Johannes Zukertort and Max Weiss, which is another matchup with very asymmetrical qualities. If nothing else, it'll be leagues shorter.

Cheers