CHAPTER I.

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: W. S. B. MATHEWS.]

THE

MASTERS AND THEIR MUSIC

A SERIES OF ILLUSTRATIVE PROGRAMS, WITH

BIOGRAPHICAL, ESTHETICAL, AND

CRITICAL ANNOTATIONS

DESIGNED AS AN INTRODUCTION TO

MUSIC AS LITERATURE

FOR THE USE OF CLUBS, CLASSES, AND

PRIVATE STUDY

BY

W. S. B. MATHEWS

Author of "How to Understand Music," "A Popular History of Music,"

"Music: Its Ideals and Methods," "Studies in Phrasing," "Standard

Grades," Etc., Etc.

Philadelphia

Theodore Presser

1708 Chestnut Str.

COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY THEO. PRESSER

PREFACE.

When a musical student begins to think of music as a literature and to

inquire about individualities of style and musical expression, it is

necessary for him to come as soon as possible to the fountainheads of

this literature in the works of a few great masters who have set the

pace and established the limits for all the rest. In the line of

purely instrumental music this has been done by Bach, Haydn, Mozart,

Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Chopin, Liszt, and Wagner. The

latter, who exercised a vast influence upon the manner of developing a

musical thought and in the selection of the orchestral colors in which

it can be expressed advantageously, powerfully stimulated all composers

later than himself, nevertheless exerted this influence at second-hand,

so to say, never having written purely instrumental movements, but

merely dramatic accompaniments of one intensity or another. Hence, for

our present purposes we may leave Wagner out altogether. Practically,

down to about the year 1875, everything in instrumental music is

original with the masters already mentioned, or was derived from them

or suggested by them. Hence, in order to understand instrumental music

we have, first of all, to make a beginning with the peculiarities,

individualities, beauty, and mastership of these great writers. Such

is the design of the following programs and explanatory matter.

My first intention has been to provide for the regular study of a

musical club, in which the playing is to be contributed by active

members designated in advance, the accessory explanations to be read

from these pages. I have thought that the playing might be divided

between several members, through which means the labor for each would

be reduced, and, on the whole, an intimate familiarity with the music

be more widely extended in the club. This method will have the

disadvantage of leaving a part of every program less well interpreted

than the others, whereby it will sometimes happen that valuable parts

will not be properly appreciated. The advantages of this method,

however, will outweigh the defects, since the awakening influence of a

course of study of this character will greatly depend upon having as

many members as possible practically interested in it.

While designed primarily for the use of a club, this course is equally

well adapted to serve as a manual for individual study, in which case

the individual himself will necessarily study every composition upon

the list, and advance to a new program only after having completely

mastered each and understood its relation to the remainder of the

course. The only exception to this rule will be in the case where

several programs of increasing difficulty are given. In this case the

player should take the easiest; after mastering this, let him go on to

the next most difficult, and, having succeeded with this, if possible

let him attack the most difficult given. In case the latter should be

impracticable for his technical resources, let him at least familiarize

himself with the general features of all of the pieces mentioned, and

get into their meaning and beauty as much as he can.

The course is also well adapted for use as a text-book in female

seminaries and the like. In this case the forms of a musical club or

definite musical organization had better be observed, and the meetings

conducted weekly or bi-weekly. The teacher should remember that all

the most important works, in which the maturity and mastership of the

composer come to their fullest expression, should be studied by the

most advanced members of the class, according to their ability, and

afterward played by the teacher himself, should he happen to possess

the necessary technical qualifications. When the maturity of the

teacher comes in to supplement the immaturity of the pupil, after the

latter has done his best, the best results will be produced.

It will be noticed, and with disappointment to some, that the analyses

and comments are free from so-called "poetry," and gush of every kind.

Particularly are they free from attempts to connect each piece with a

story or poetic idea. In the opinion of the writer, the first step

toward musical growth lies in learning to appreciate music, as music.

In instrumental music the development of a musical idea, the creation

of musical symmetries, figures, and arabesques, and the legitimate

building up of musical climaxes upon purely harmonic and rhythmic

grounds are the phases of thought which interested the composer and

gave rise to the composition. And while we may not attempt to assign

limits to the inspiration and uplifting effects of great tone-poetry,

it is quite certain that effects and influences of this kind are

arrived at in the consciousness of the listener only when purely

musical appreciation is active and deep. Without the background of

living musical appreciation of this kind, the highest flights of the

composer will pass as mere noise and fury, the hearer being in no whit

uplifted or inspired. The uplifting which comes from the supposed

assistance of a "story" or a poetic idea attached to the composition by

some outside person is quite likely to fail of being the same in

quality as that intended by the composer. Music is one thing, poetry

another. While aiming at like ends,--the expression of spiritual

beauty,--they move in different planes, which in the more highly

organized minds are not proximate. The hearer specially gifted in

music does not need the story or the poem; he finds it a hindrance.

The hearer specially gifted in poetic sensibility does not care very

much for the music; to him it is merely a foreign speech, trying to say

vaguely and imperfectly what the poetry has said definitely and well.

To put the immature and unspecialized hearer upon the poetic track as

an aid to understanding a piece of music is, therefore, to place him at

a disadvantage, leading him to expect phenomena which he will find only

in literature; just the same as it would be a mistake to intrude pieces

of music as explanations in a course in poetry or imaginative

literature.

There is a time in both cases when these accessory or related provinces

of mind can be called into friendly activity to the advantage of each

other. In a poetic training this might be at the point where the

motive of the poem is of that vague, mystical character--a mere

soul-mood--which words express so imperfectly; or, in a course of

music, when it is a question of a piece in which the composer has

definitely attempted to express a poetical idea--as happens often in

dramatic music, occasionally in symphonic poems and elsewhere. Here

the outside help is needed not so much in order to explain the music as

to supplement its shortcomings. But in the earlier stages of musical

training in this higher sense, purely musical observation (not so much

technical as esthetic) comes first, since without this all our

rhapsodies upon the greater works signify nothing.

In the course of the book there are two essays embodied which are very

important to the true mastery of the material. They are the essay upon

"Moving Forces in Music," the first chapter, and that upon "The Typical

Forms of Music," at the end of Part I. The first should be taken up

where it occurs. The other may be left to the end or introduced at any

stage of the discussion preferred by the student or by the conductor of

the class or club.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PART I.

THE MASTERS AND THEIR MUSIC.

CHAPTER I.

MOVING FORCES IN MUSIC

CHAPTER II.

BACH AND HÄNDEL

The importance of Bach in the world of music. Pleasing and

representative compositions.

CHAPTER III.

HAYDN AND MOZART

The importance of Haydn as the creator of the sonata.

CHAPTER IV.

CHARACTERISTIC MOODS OF BEETHOVEN

CHAPTER V.

BACH, MOZART, AND BEETHOVEN COMPARED

CHAPTER VI.

SCHUBERT AND MENDELSSOHN

CHAPTER VII.

ROBERT SCHUMANN

CHAPTER VIII.

CHOPIN

CHAPTER IX.

BACH, BEETHOVEN, SCHUMANN, AND CHOPIN IN THE DIFFERENT

PHASES OF THEIR ART

CHAPTER X.

LISZT

CHAPTER XI.

BACH, BEETHOVEN, CHOPIN, SCHUMANN, LISZT

CHAPTER XII.

CONCERNING THE TYPICAL MUSICAL FORMS

PART II.

MODERN MASTERS AND AMERICAN COMPOSERS.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

CHAPTER I.

NATIONALITY IN MUSIC

CHAPTER II.

JOHANNES BRAHMS

CHAPTER III.

EDVARD GRIEG

CHAPTER IV.

RUBINSTEIN AND TSCHAIKOWSKY

CHAPTER V.

THE LATER ROMANTICISTS

CHAPTER VI.

GOTTSCHALK AND MASON

CHAPTER VII.

E. A. MACDOWELL

CHAPTER VIII.

ARTHUR FOOTE AND MRS. H. H. A. BEACH

CHAPTER IX.

MISCELLANEOUS PROGRAM BY AMERICAN COMPOSERS

ILLUSTRATIONS

W. S. G. Mathews . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

Joh. Sebastian Bach, Geo. Fred. Handel

Joseph Haydn, Wolfgang A. Mozart

Ludwig van Beethoven

Franz Schubert, Felix Mendelssohn

Robert Schumann

Frederic Francois Chopin

Franz Liszt

PART I.

THE MASTERS AND THEIR MUSIC.

CHAPTER I.

MOVING FORCES IN MUSIC

The art of music shows the operation of several moving forces, or

motives, which have presented themselves to the composer with

sufficient force to inspire the creation of the works we have. The

most important of these motives is the Musical Sense itself, since it

is to this we owe the creation of the folk-song, with its pleasing

symmetries, and the greater part of the vast literature of instrumental

music.

Aside from the expression of the musical consciousness as such, the

composer has been moved at times by the motive of Dramatic Expression.

In opera, for example, a great deal of the music has for its object to

intensify the feeling of the scene. Accordingly, the composer

carefully selects those combinations and sequences of tones which in

his opinion best correspond with the dramatic moment they are intended

to accompany. And since many of these moments are of extreme

intensity, even tragic in character, very strong and intense

combinations of tones are sometimes employed, such as could not be

justified in an instrumental composition to be played independently of

any illustrative scenery or story.

There is a third motive of composition which also has had a large place

in the development of instrumental music--viz., the Expression of the

Individual Mood of the Composer; and the further we come down in the

history of music, the more unrestricted we find the operation of this

motive.

In the order of development, the purely musical is entitled to the

first place; and it has also been the principal moving cause in the

development of the art of music, from its universality--its power to

act upon all grades of musical consciousness according to the ability

of the individual musician. For example, the desire to realize in

tones agreeable symmetries of rhythm and strong antitheses of melodic

sequence has given rise to the folk songs, all of which operate upon

what are now very elementary lines, since they never exceed very simple

and obvious rhythmic proportions and the most common chords of the key.

Recent investigations of the music of barbarous and half-civilized

tribes show that the attainment of symmetry in the folk-song is a

somewhat late experience. In many of the songs of the American

Indians, for example, the first phrase moves practically along the

track of the common chord; the second phrase frequently repeats the

first, and in some instances the repetition goes on indefinitely

without any answer or conclusion. In other cases a second phrase

follows along the track of a closely related chord, but I have never

noticed a case in which a third phrase appeared, corresponding to the

first, after a digression of the second phrase into another chord.

Generally the rhythm runs out with a series of what might be called

inarticulate drum-beats, as if an impulse existed still unsatisfied,

blindly making itself felt in these insignificant pulsations; an

impulse which a finer melodic sense would have satisfied by the proper

antithesis in relation to the first phrase, thus leaving the melody and

the rhythm to complete themselves together, as always takes place in

civilized music.

The art of music seems to be an evolution from the sense of number and

the feeling for the common chord, combined with a certain fondness for

reverie, which in the earlier stages of the art was perhaps

semi-religious in character, and in the later stages is more nearly

related to the dance, until finally, in the highest stage, it is a

reverie of the beautiful or the pathetic, pure and simple. The

existence of the harmonic sense in rude natures, where music has not

been heard, seems very difficult to account for, since, while it is

true that any resonant tone contains the partial tones constituting the

common chord, a resonant tone is very seldom heard among rude

surroundings; and the discovery of the instinct of barbarous melodies

to work themselves along the track of the chord is one of those

unexpected finds of modern investigation which, while at first seeming

to explain many things, are themselves excessively difficult to account

for.

In a sense, there is no difference in kind between the folk-song and

the most complete and highly organized art-music; that is to say, both

alike are primarily due to the operation of simple musical instincts

working off along the track of rhythmic proportion and harmonic

relation. The vast difference in the grade of the results attained is

due to the capacity of the composers. The simple man giving himself up

to reverie and being gifted with a certain amount of musical feeling,

produces a commonplace melody of serious import or of lively rhythm

according to the nature of the reverie in which he indulges. This is

to him a complete expression of his mood, and it is received as such by

others in like state.

A Bach, a Beethoven, or a Schumann, giving himself up to tonal reverie,

will also arrive at more or less symmetrical melodic forms

proportionate to the mood of the composer and the idea which he is

seeking to bring to expression; but instead of his reverie terminating

at the end of one or two periods, as is invariably the case with the

simple man (an additional idea having to be sought with much diligence

and imperfect success), he goes on for a series of periods, and perhaps

develops a quite long discourse, all having relation to the simple

conception with which he started and to a fundamental mood. It is

evident that, owing to the time consumed in writing out a musical

discourse, the high composer will not have been able to complete his

composition, or at least the written expression of it, at a single

sitting; and upon examining it we do, in fact, find it to consist of

successive chapters or paragraphs, each one of which might be taken as

the expression of a mood, and all having reference to the central mood

underlying the beginning, which by the arrangement of material

necessarily becomes the characteristic mood of the entire work.

Moreover, Bach, Beethoven, or Schumann, in bringing their tonal mood to

expression, will permit themselves all sorts of freedom in bringing

together unexpected motives, rhythms, or chords, and the result,

consequently, will be of a very different character from that attained

by the composer of simple pieces, and will, therefore, be intelligible

to those only who have the musical capacity to realize these more

remote and less obvious relations.

Our composer also will have embraced in his tonal reverie, or at least

in the extreme moments of it, all those extraordinary means of intense

musical expression which the dramatic composer may have found out in

his effort to represent the tragic and extreme moments of dramatic

complication. And thus the tendency of the musical art is constantly

toward the complex, and toward the bringing together of relations so

subtle as to have been unintelligible to earlier musicians, and

unintelligible now, at first hearing, to common ears, lacking in these

finer perceptions of advanced musical endowment. It is to be noticed,

however, that these extraordinary combinations and relations of the

advanced composer occur only at remote intervals in the works of any of

the great masters. The extremely intense or dramatic or tragic is not

the staple of human life. They are incidents in a checkered and

tempest-tossed existence, and the music representing these moods is

also a little outside the range of the purely beautiful.

In one department of the higher art of music--viz., that of

symphony--there has been a working-out of the taste for the symmetric,

the well proportioned, and the agreeable sounding; in other words, the

beautiful as to proportion, charm of melody, and the satisfactory in

harmony. In symphony the tragic and the extremely dramatic have had

but a limited realization, while the purely beautiful in tonal relation

has been the main creative motive. This we find in Mozart and

Beethoven to a remarkable degree.

The general color of instrumental music, or its increasing complexity

and high flavor, has been very much influenced by the writers of songs,

as well as by the dramatic composers writing for the stage. There have

been a few great geniuses in the art of music who, while gifted with a

wide musical fantasy of their own, have taken pleasure in deriving

their inspiration from poetry, and have occupied a large part of their

time as creative composers in setting to music such lyric texts as

interested them. In this way Schubert, for example, wrote something

like 700 songs, Schumann a considerable number, and there have been

various other composers who have written extensively in this line. The

experience of the song-writer has, on the whole, been of great use to

instrumental music, since it has tended not alone to diversify the

music by encouraging a freer and more graphic employment of tonal

forms, but also to retain the melody within the compass suitable to the

voice and to preserve the agreeable proportions of phrases, such as we

already find in poetic meters. Still, the fact remains that for

intensification and for the extravagant element in the higher art of

music, the dramatic composer is the influence mainly to be thanked,

since in opera all these things are done upon so much larger a scale

and with so much greater intensity.

It is not easy in words to point out how extremely large a factor in

art-music is the operation of the unconscious. Instinct governed the

operation of Bach and Beethoven almost as much as it does the swimming

of the swan or the flying of the pigeon. For although the instinct of

tonal relations is not one of those universal endowments shared by

every individual to the same degree, there have appeared in the art of

music a series of remarkable geniuses who seem to have had within

themselves the power to turn all kinds of moods and experiences into

musical expression. What part of this was due to fortunate heredity,

and what to environment, and how much to original genius, pure and

simple, it is impossible to say. The nature of genius always remains a

mystery. At the same time, the currency which the music of these

masters has gained in the world, and still maintains, goes to show that

the instinct which governed them in putting together tonal forms for

expressing delight, and for operating upon the feelings of the hearer,

is not different in essence from that of the common listener; since

experience shows that all this music affords gratification to the great

majority of individuals who can be brought to listen to it a few times.

Of course, it is not to be expected that a casual hearer, inattentive,

it may be, and unaccustomed to remembering what he has heard, will be

impressed by a long instrumental composition to the same degree as a

practised hearer, and especially a hearer who has already followed the

composition through several times before; but the longest symphony or

sonata always contains a variety of moments which are intensely

pleasing to the ordinary hearer listening seriously to them for the

first time. The difference between the casual hearer and the more

cultivated one is that with practice will come a perception of a larger

number of these attractive moments, and finally, at last, the

realization of the entire discourse as a one, having a central idea; in

the same way as in a sermon a casual hearer notices here and there an

idea which strikes him; then he goes off into reverie, and is only

recalled by some other striking idea which attracts his attention,

while the trained hearer may have followed the discourse entirely, and

found it interesting from first to last.

Moreover, the repeated experience of hearing brings out in ordinary

listeners a capacity which they had not previously realized--viz., the

experience of feeling in connection with the music. We are still very

far from understanding the relation between music and feeling. The

most that is known about it as yet is that to a listener of even a very

slight amount of experience the minor chord suggests unhappiness, while

the major chord sounds brighter and more agreeable; a pleasant rhythm,

somewhat lively, betokens cheerfulness; a slow and heavy rhythm

betokens seriousness, perhaps sadness; but beyond this elementary

beginning of musical feeling, which is common to the most

insignificantly endowed individuality, there is a vast world of finer

sensibilities connected with music. A certain chord, or succession of

chords, or especially a certain melo-harmonic phrase, touches the

sensitive ear with a peculiar thrill, and this happens over and over

again, and continually in the more fortunate works of all the great

masters, when followed by sympathetic hearers. The point in this

connection which we have to notice is that the capacity of feeling to

be touched and awakened by tonal incitations is practically universal

as regards civilized man. The extent of the influence which music will

exert varies enormously in individual cases, but from the fact that

every normal hearer will be touched more and more by music with a

little practice in hearing it; that the number of those who are

extremely sensitive to this form of spiritual suggestion is much larger

than is ordinarily supposed; and from the fact of this capacity in the

average individual, and the universality of the admiration awakened by

the works of the great geniuses in music, it is a fair conclusion that

the future is destined to throw more light upon this obscure part of

the psycho-musical capacity of mankind; and it is obvious, as said

before, that the great geniuses whose works are demonstrated to contain

this power to touch hearers had this endowment in an extraordinary

degree, but not to such a degree as need place any bar upon the popular

appreciation of their music, if a comparatively small amount of

education has been given in hearing.

To sum up, then, the results arrived at in this discussion. The

programs and discussions now about to be undertaken have been arranged

for the purpose of assisting the listener to a recognition of the

peculiarities and individual charms of the works of the masters

represented, and also, incidentally, to afford the listener a certain

education in the art of hearing, and, by bringing together strongly

contrasted musical moments, to afford the musical feeling a strong

incitation, in the hope of awakening in every listener this capacity of

musical delight, when the sense of the beautiful and of the expressive

is appealed to through exquisite tonal incitation.

All the music in these chapters, without exception, has been created

upon musical grounds, since it is the instinctive following out of

musical ideas which has operated through the greater part of them,

while the pursuit of the highly dramatic and strongly marked has had

but a small influence.

The higher musical fancy has many ways of expressing itself or of

elaborating musical ideas, but there are two of its characteristic

modes which the student will do well to observe at the start. These

are what I call the "thematic" and the "lyric." The ordinary

folk-song, which starts off with a melodic phrase, this phrase being

partly answered, followed by a third phrase like the first, and then a

final answer, is the general type of the lyric moment. The thematic is

generally based upon a short phrase or melodic figure, and this figure

is repeated over and over in a variety of ways and different chords and

the like until a complete idea is formed from it. These two modes of

construction are traced at greater length in the concluding essay in

this work on "The Typical Musical Forms," and the student will do well

to fortify himself from time to time by reference to that chapter.

In all the programs of this course there is one caution which the

student will do well to observe: All kinds of technical analysis of

art-works put the hearer in a mood essentially different from that

necessary for properly enjoying the works as art. Every art work is

intended to awaken an artistic delight after its kind. In painting, a

delight in form and color, and in some a kind of suggestion or story by

means of them. In music, a delight in tone and tonal relations and

rhythm, and always a sense of tonal beauty, with a strong flavor of

feeling awakened by means of them. This entire expression of musical

masterworks belongs to the unconscious operation of mind, and the

hearer who occupies himself with the effort to recognize all the

various devices and artifices of the composer, and to follow the form

as such, or who occupies himself mainly with the idea of the story

which the composer is trying to tell, puts himself in a wrong attitude

for deriving the most complete gratification from the work. In a

cultivated realization of the beauty of a great musical masterwork,

these perceptions of technical skill on the part of the composer no

doubt enter to some degree, but they are always more or less in the

background, and form a part of the actual pleasure of hearing the

symphony or the sonata scarcely more than the capital initials and

punctuation marks enter into the enjoyment of a poem. All the

incidents of punctuation and typography we take instinctively, and are

conscious of them only when some one of them is missing and an error

exists in the work. This is the case with music. Symmetry and flow of

imagination are presupposed. Hence, whatever analyses may be made in

the class as a part of the operation of studying these different

master-works, the end to be sought by the student is the enjoyment of

the work as music; to take an active and lively pleasure in the melody;

to feel the harmony and the rhythm; to enjoy the contrast of the

different moods, and so on. Every piece in the entire list is a voice

in which the composer speaks to us, and the question is not the How,

but the What.

The Masters and Their Music A series of illustrative programs with biographical, esthetical, and critical annotations · 第 1 / 13 章