than this continuous defile, for the past ten years, of _Kapellmeister_
and foreign virtuosi, and the comparisons that their different styles
and interpretations afforded. Nothing has better helped forward the
improvement of Parisian orchestras than the emulation brought about by
the meetings between Parisian conductors and those of other countries.
At present our own conductors are worthy rivals of the best in Germany.
The string instruments are good; the wood has kept its old French
superiority; and though the brass is still the weakest part of our
orchestras, it has made great progress. One may still criticise the
grouping of orchestras at concerts, for it is often defective; there is
a disproportion between the different families of instruments and, in
consequence, between their different sonorities, some of which are too
thin and others too dull. But these defects are fairly common all over
Europe to-day. Unhappily, more peculiar to France is the insufficiency
or poor quality of the choirs, whose progress has been far from keeping
pace with that of the orchestras. It is to this side of music that the
directors of concerts must now bring their efforts to bear.
The Lamoureux Concerts have not had as stable a dwelling-place as the
Châtelet Concerts. They have wandered about Paris from one room to
another--from the Cirque d'Hiver to the Cirque d'Été, and from the
Château-d'Eau to the Nouveau Théâtre. At the present moment they are in
the Salle Gaveau, which is much too small for them. In spite of the
progress of music and musical taste, Paris has not yet a concert-hall,
as the smallest provincial towns in Germany have; and this shameful
indifference, unworthy of the artistic renown of Paris, obliges the
symphonic societies to take refuge in circuses or theatres, which they
share with other kinds of performers, though the acoustics of these
places are not intended for concerts. And so it happens that for six
years the Chevillard Concerts have been given at the back of a
music-hall, which has the same entrance, and which is only separated
from the concert-room by a small passage, so that the roaring choruses
of a _danse du venire_ may mingle with an adagio of Beethoven's or a
scene from the Tetralogy. Worse than this, the smallness of the place
into which these concerts have been crammed has been a serious obstacle
in the way of making them popular. Nevertheless, in the promenade and
galleries of the Nouveau Théâtre, in later years, arose what may be
called a little war over concertos. It was rather a curious episode in
the history of the musical taste of Paris, and merits a few words here.
In every country, but especially in those countries that are least
musical, a virtuoso profits by public favour, often to the detriment of
the work he is performing; for what is most liked in music is the
musician. The virtuoso--whose importance must not be underrated, and who
is worthy of honour when he is a reverential and sympathetic interpreter
of genius--has too often taken a lamentable part, especially in Latin
countries, in the degrading of musical taste; for empty virtuosity makes
a desert of art. The fashion of inept fantasias and acrobatic
variations has, it is true, gone by; but of late years virtuosity has
returned in an offensive way, and, sheltering itself under the solemn
classical name of "concertos," it usurped a place of rather exaggerated
importance in symphony concerts, and especially in M. Chevillard's
concerts--a place which Lamoureux would never have given it. Then the
younger and more enthusiastic part of the public began to revolt; and
very soon, with perfect impartiality and quite indiscriminately, began
to hiss famous and obscure virtuosi alike in their performance of any
concerto, whether it was splendid or detestable. Nothing found favour
with them--neither the playing of Paderewski, nor the music of
Saint-Saëns and the great masters. The management of the concerts went
its own way and tried in vain to put out the disturbers, and to forbid
them entry to the concert-room; and the battle went on for a long time,
and critics were drawn into it. But in spite of its ridiculous excesses,
and the barbarism of the methods by which the parterre expressed its
opinions, that quarrel is not without interest. It proved how a passion
and enthusiasm for music had been roused in France; and the passion,
though unjust in its expression, was more fruitful and of far greater
worth than indifference.
* * * * *
3. _The Schola Cantorum_
The Lamoureux Concerts had served their purpose, and, in their turn,
their heroic mission came to an end. They had forced Wagner on Paris;
and Paris, as always, had overshot the mark, and could swear by no one
but Wagner. French musicians were translating Gounod's or Massenet's
ideas into Wagner's style; Parisian critics repeated Wagner's theories
at random, whether they understood them or not--generally when they did
not understand them. A reaction was inevitable directly Paris was well
saturated with Wagner; and it came about in 1890, among a chosen few,
some of whom had been, and were even still, under Wagner's influence. It
was at first only a mild reaction, and showed itself in a return to the
classics of the past and to the great primitives in music.
There had been several attempts in this direction before, but none of
them had succeeded in making any impression on the mass of the public.
In 1843, Joseph Napoléon Ney, Prince of Moszkowa, founded in Paris a
society for the performance of religious and classical vocal music. This
society, which the Prince himself conducted in his own house, set itself
to perform the vocal works of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries.[221]
[Footnote 221: It published, in eleven volumes, the ancient works that
it performed. Before this experiment there had been the _Concerts
historiques de Fétis_, preceded by lectures, which were inaugurated in
1832, and failed; and these were followed by Amédée Méréaux's _Concerts
historiques_ in 1842-1844.]
In 1853, Louis Niedermeyer founded in Paris an _École de musique
religieuse et classique_, which strove "to form singers, organists,
choir-masters, and composers of music, by the study of the classic works
of the great masters of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth
centuries." This school, subsidised by the State, was a nursery for
some real musicians. It reckoned among its pupils some noted composers,
conductors, organists, and historians; among others, M. Gabriel Fauré,
M. André Messager, M. Eugène Gigout, and M. Henry Expert. M. Saint-Saëns
was a professor there, and became its president. Nearly five hundred
organists, choir-masters, and professors of music of the Conservatoire
and other French colleges were trained there. But this school, serious
in intention, and a refuge for the classic spirit in the midst of the
prevailing bad taste, did not trouble itself about influencing the
public, and, in fact, almost ignored it.
Lamoureux attempted in 1873 to perform the great choral works of Bach
and Händel; and in 1878 the celebrated French organist, M. Alexandre
Guilmant, ventured to give concerts at the Trocadéro for the organ and
orchestra, which were devoted to religious music of the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries. But the deplorable acoustics of the concert-room
had a prejudicial effect on the works that were performed there; and the
public did not respond very warmly to M. Guilmant's efforts, and seemed
from the first only to find an historical interest in the masterpieces,
and to miss their depth and life altogether.
Then a pupil of Franck's, M. Henry Expert, who began his admirable works
on Musical History in 1882, laid the foundation of the _Société J.S.
Bach_, in order to spread the knowledge of ancient music written between
the twelfth and eighteenth centuries. And he succeeded in interesting
in his undertaking, not only the principal French musicians, such as
César Franck, Saint-Saëns, and Gounod, but also foreigners, such as Hans
von Bülow, Tschaikowsky, Grieg, Sgambati, and Gevaert. Unhappily this
society never got farther than arranging what it wanted to do, and only
sketched out the plans that were realised later by Charles Bordes.
The general public were not really interested in the art of the old
musicians until the _Association des Chanteurs de Saint-Gervais_ was
founded in 1892 by Charles Bordes, the choirmaster of the church of
Saint-Gervais. The immediate success and the noisy renown of the Society
were due to other things besides the talent of its conductor, who
combined with a lively artistic intelligence both common-sense and
energy and a remarkable gift for organisation--it was due partly to the
help of favourable circumstances, partly to the surfeit of Wagnerism, of
which I have just spoken, and partly to the birth of a new religious
art, which had sprung up since the death of César Franck round the
memory of that great musician.
It is not my intention here to write an appreciation of César Franck's
genius, but it is not possible to understand the musical movement in
Paris of the last fifteen years if one does not take into account the
importance of his teaching. The organ class at the Conservatoire, where
in 1872 Franck succeeded his old master Benoist, was for a long time, as
M. Vincent d'Indy says, "the true centre for the study of Composition
at the Conservatoire. Many of his fellow-workers could never bring
themselves to look upon him as one of themselves, because he had the
boldness to see in art something other than the means of earning a
living. Indeed, César Franck was not of them; and they made him feel
this." But the young students made no mistake about the matter. "At this
time," M. d'Indy also tells us,[222] "that is to say from 1872 to 1876,
the three courses of Advanced Musical Composition were given by three
professors who were not at all fitted for their work. One was Victor
Massé, a composer of simple light operas and a man with no understanding
of a symphony, who was very frequently ill and had to entrust his
teaching to one of his pupils; another was Henri Reber, an oldish
musician with narrow and dogmatic ideas; and the third was François
Bazin, who was not capable of distinguishing in his pupil's fugues a
false answer from a true one, and whose highest title to glory is
derived from a composition called _Le Voyage en Chine_. So it is not
surprising that César Franck's teaching, founded on that of Bach and
Beethoven, but admitting, as well, imagination and all new and liberal
ideas, did, at that time, draw to him all young minds that had lofty
ambitions and that were really in love with their art. And so, quite
unconsciously, the master attracted to himself all the sincere and
artistic talent that was scattered about the different classes of the
Conservatoire, as well as that of his outside pupils."
[Footnote 222: The following information was given by M. Vincent d'Indy
at a lecture held on 20 February, 1903, at the _École des Hautes Études
sociales_--a lecture which later became a chapter in M. d'Indy's book,
_César Franck_ (1906).]
Among those who received his direct teaching[223] were Henri Duparc,
Alexis de Castillon, Vincent d'Indy, Ernest Chausson, Pierre de
Bréville, Augusta Holmes, Louis de Serres, Charles Bordes, Guy Ropartz,
and Guillaume Lekeu. And if to these we add the pupils in the organ
classes, who also came under his influence, we have, among others,
Samuel Rousseau, Gabriel Pierné, Auguste Chapuis, Paul Vidal, and
Georges Marty; and also the virtuosi who were for some time intimate
with him, such as Armand Parent and Eugène Ysaye, to whom Franck
dedicated his violin sonata. And if one thinks, too, of the artists who,
though not his pupils, felt his power--artists such as Gabriel Fauré,
Alexandre Guilmant, Emmanuel Chabrier, and Paul Dukas--one may see that
nearly the whole musical generation of Paris of that time took its
inspiration from César Franck. And it was largely with the intention of
perpetuating his teaching that his pupils, Charles Bordes and Vincent
d'Indy, and his friend, Alexandre Guilmant, founded in 1894, four years
after his death, the _Schola Cantorum_, which has kept his memory alive
ever since.
"Our revered father, Franck," said Vincent d'Indy, in a speech, "is in
some ways the grandfather of the _Schola Cantorum_; for it is his system
of teaching that we apply and try to carry on here."[224]
[Footnote 223: A complete list may be found in M. d'Indy's book.]
[Footnote 224 2: _Tribune de Saint-Gervais_, November, 1900.]
The influence of Franck was twofold: it was artistic and moral. On the
one hand he was, if I may so put it, an admirable professor of musical
architecture; he founded a school of symphony and chamber-music such as
France had never had before, which in certain directions was newer and
more daring than that of the German symphony writers. And, on the other
hand, he exercised by his own character a memorable influence over all
those who came into contact with him. His profound faith, that fine,
indulgent, and calm faith, shone round him like a glory. The Catholic
party, who were awakening to new life in France just then, tried, after
his death, to identify his ideals with their own. But this was, as we
have said elsewhere,[225] to narrow Franck's mind; for its great charm
lay in its harmonious union of religion and liberty, which never limited
its artistic sympathies to an exclusive ideal. The composer's son, M.
Georges César-Franck, has in vain protested against this monopoly of his
father, and says:
"According to certain writers, who wish to reduce everything to a
dead level and deduce all things from a single cause, César Franck
was a mystic whose true domain was religious music. Nothing could
be wider of the mark. The public is given to generalisations, and
is too easily gulled. They will judge a composer on a single work,
or a group of works, and class him once and for all.... In
reality, my father was a man of all-round accomplishments. As a
finished musician, he was master of every form of composition. He
wrote both religious and secular music--melodies, dances,
pastorales, oratorios, symphonic poems, symphonies, sonatas, trios,
and operas. He did not confine his attention to any particular kind
of work to the exclusion of other kinds; he was able to express
himself in any way he chose."[226]
But as what was really religious in him found itself in agreement with a
current of thought that was rather powerful at that time, it was
inevitable that this one side of his genius should be first brought to
light, and that religious music should be the first to benefit by his
work. And also one of the early manifestos[227] of the _Schola Cantorum_
dealt with the reform of sacred music by carrying it back to great
ancient models; and its first decision was as follows: "Gregorian chant
shall rest for all time the fountain-head and the base of the Church's
music, and shall constitute the only model by which it may be truly
judged."[228]
[Footnote 225: See the Essay on _Vincent d'Indy_.]
[Footnote 226: _Revue d'histoire et de critique musicale_,
August-September, 1901.]
[Footnote 227: "The _Schola Cantorum_ aims at creating a modern music
truly worthy of the Church" (First number of the _Tribune de
Saint-Gervais_, the monthly bulletin of the _Schola Cantorum_, January,
1895).]
[Footnote 228: The Schola had in mind here the vigorous work of the
French Benedictines, which had been done in silence for the past fifty
years; it was thinking, too, of the restoration of the Gregorian chant
during 1850 and 1860 by Dom Guéranger, the first abbot of Solesmes, a
work continued by Dom Jausions and Dom Pothier, the abbot of
Saint-Wandrille, who published in 1883 the _Mélodies Grégoriennes_, the
_Liber Gradualis_, and the _Liber Antiphonarius_. This work was finally
brought to a happy conclusion by Dom Schmitt, and Dom Mocqucreau, the
prior of Solesmes, who in 1889 began his monumental work, the
_Paléo-graphie Musicals_, of which nine volumes had appeared in 1906.
This great Benedictine school is an honour to France by the scientific
work it has lately done in music. The school is at present exiled from
France.]
They added to this, however, music _à la Palestrina_, and any music
that conformed to its principles or was inspired by its example. Such
archaic ideas would certainly never create a new kind of religious
music, but at least they have helped to restore the old art; and they
received their official consecration in the famous letter written by
Pope Pius X on the Re-form of Sacred Music.
The achievement of an artistic ideal so restricted as this would not
have sufficed, however, to assure the success of the _Schola Cantorum_,
nor establish its authority with a public that was, whatever people may
say, only lukewarm in its religion, and that would only interest itself
in the religious art of other days as it would in a passing fashion. But
the spirit of curiosity and the meaning of modern life began to weigh
little by little with the Schola's principles. After singing
Palestrinian and Gregorian chants at the Church of Saint-Gervais during
Holy Week, they played Carissimi, Schütz, and the Italian and German
masters of the seventeenth century. Then came Bach's cantatas; and their
performance, given by M. Bordes in the Salle d'Harcourt, attracted large
audiences and started the cult of this master in Paris. Then they sang
Rameau and Gluck; and, finally, all ancient music, sacred or secular,
was approved. And so this little school, which had been consecrated to
the cult of ancient religious music, and had made so modest a
beginning,[229] developed into a School of Art capable of satisfying
modern wants; and in 1900, when M. Vincent d'Indy became president of
the _Schola_, it was decided to move the school into larger premises in
the Rue Saint-Jacques.
The programme of this new school was explained by M. Vincent d'Indy in
his Inauguration speech on 2 November, 1900, and showed how he based the
foundations of musical teaching upon history.
"Art, in its journey across the ages, is a microcosm which has,
like the world itself, successive stages of youth, maturity, and
old age; but it never dies--it renews itself perpetually. It is not
like a perfect circle; it is like a spiral, and in its growth is
always mounting higher. I believe in making students follow the
same path that art itself has followed, so that they shall undergo
during their term of study the same transformations that music
itself has undergone during the centuries. In this way they will
come out much better armed for the difficulties of modern art,
since they will have lived, so to speak, the life of art, and
followed the natural and inevitable order of the forms that made up
the different epochs of artistic development."
[Footnote 229: When Charles Bordes opened the first _Schola Cantorum_ in
the Rue Stanislas he was without help or resources, and had exactly
thirty-seven francs and fifty centimes in hand. I mention this detail to
give an idea of the splendidly courageous and confident spirit that
Charles Bordes possessed.]
M. d'Indy claims that this system may be applied as successfully to
instrumentalists and singers as to future composers. "For it is as
profitable for them to know," he says, "how to sing a liturgic monody
properly, or to be able to play a Corelli sonata in a suitable style, as
it is for composers to study the structure of a motet or a suite." M.
d'Indy, moreover, obliged all students, without distinction, to attend
the lectures on vocal music; and, besides that, he instituted a special
class to teach the conducting of orchestras--which was something quite
new to France. His object, as he clearly said, was to give a new form to
modern music by means of a knowledge of the music of the past.
On this subject he says:
"Where shall we find the quickening life that will give us fresh
forms and formulas? The source is not really difficult to discover.
Do not let us seek it anywhere but in the decorative art of the
plain-song singers, in the architectural art of the age of
Palestrina, and in the expressive art of the great Italians of the
seventeenth century. It is there, and _there alone_, that we shall
find melodic craft, rhythmic cadences, and a harmonic magnificence
that is really new--if our modern spirit can only learn how to
absorb their nutritious essence. And so I prescribe for all pupils
in the School the careful study of classic forms, because _they
alone_ are able to give the elements of a new life to our music,
which will be founded on principles that are sane, solid, and
trustworthy."[230]
[Footnote 230: _Tribune de Saint-Gervais_, November, 1900.]
This fine and intelligent eclecticism was likely to develop a critical
spirit, but was rather less adapted to form original personalities. In
any case, however, it was excellent discipline in the formation of
musical taste; and, in truth, the _École Supérieure de musique_ of the
Rue Saint-Jacques became a new Conservatoire, both more modern and more
learned than the old Conservatoire, and freer, and yet less free,
because more self-satisfied. The school developed very quickly. From
having twenty-one pupils in 1896, it had three hundred and twenty in
1908. Eminent musicians and professors learned in the history and
science of music taught there, and M. d'Indy himself took the
Composition classes.[231] And in its short career the _Schola_ may
already be credited with the training of young composers, such as MM.
Roussel, Déodat de Séverac, Gustave Bret, Labey, Samazeuilh, R. de
Castéra, Sérieyx, Alquier, Coindreau, Estienne, Le Flem, and Groz; and
to these may be added M. d'Indy's private pupils, Witkowski, and one of
the foremost of modern composers, Alberic Magnard.
[Footnote 231: There are actually nine courses of Composition at the
_Schola_--five for men and four for women. M. d'Indy takes eight of
them, as well as a mixed class for orchestra.]