THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS. SCHUBERT AND WEBER
During the latter part of Beethoven's life--he died in 1827--new
currents were setting in, which were to influence profoundly the trend
of modern music. Two important, though in some respects unconscious,
representatives of these tendencies were actually working
contemporaneously with Beethoven, von Weber (1786-1826) and Schubert
(1797-1828). Beethoven himself is felt to be a dual personality in
that he summed up and ratified all that was best in his predecessors,
and pointed the way for most of the tendencies operative since his
time. For the designation of these two contrasting, though not
exclusive, ideals, the currently accepted terms are Classic and
Romantic. So many shades of meaning have unfortunately been associated
with the word Romantic that confusion of thought has arisen. It is
also true that the so-called Romanticists, including poets and
painters as well as musicians, in their endeavors to break loose from
the formality of the Classic period, have indulged in many irritating
idiosyncracies. We are beginning to see clearly that a too violent
expression of individuality destroys a most vital factor in
music--universality of appeal. Yet the Romantic School cannot be
ignored. To its representatives we owe many of our finest works, and
they were the prime movers in those strivings toward freedom and
ideality which have made the modern world what it is. The term
Romantic is perfectly clear in its application to literature, from
which music borrowed it. It refers to the movement begun about the
year 1796 among such German poets as Tieck, the two Schlegels and
Novalis, to restore the poetic legends of the middle ages, written in
the Romance dialects, and to embody in their own works the fantastic
spirit of this medieval poetry.[173] In reference to music, however,
the terms Classic and Romantic are often vague and misleading, and
have had extreme interpretations put upon them.[174] Thus, to many,
"romantic" implies ultra-sentimental, mawkish or grotesque, while
everything "classic" is dry, uninspired and academic. How often we
hear the expression, "I am not up to classic music; let me hear
something modern and romantic." Many scholars show little respect for
the terms and some would abolish them altogether. Everything, however,
hinges upon a reasonable definition. Pater's well-known saying that
"Romanticism is the addition of strangeness to beauty" is fair; and
yet, since strangeness in art can result only from imaginative
conception, it amounts to nothing more than the truism that romantic
art is imbued with personality. Hence Stendhal is right in saying that
"All good art was Romantic in its day"; _i.e._, it exhibited as much
warmth and individuality as the spirit of its times would allow.
Surely Bach, Haydn and Mozart were real characters, notwithstanding
the restraint which the artificialities of the period often put upon
their utterance. On the other hand, work at first pronounced to be
romantic establishes, by a universal recognition of its merit, the
claim to be considered classic, or set apart; what is romantic to-day
thus growing to be classic[175] tomorrow. It is evident, therefore,
that the terms interlock and are not mutually exclusive. It is a
mistaken attitude to set one school off against the other, or to prove
that one style is greater than the other; they are simply different.
Compositions of lasting worth always manifest such a happy union of
qualities that, in a broad sense, they may be called both romantic and
classic, _i.e._, they combine personal emotion and imagination with
breadth of meaning and solidity of structure.
[Footnote 173: For a more complete historical account see the article
"Romantic" in Grove's Dictionary and the introduction to Vol. VI of
_The Oxford History of Music_. _Rousseau and Romanticism_ by Professor
Irving Babbitt presents the latest investigations in this important
field.]
[Footnote 174: Some very sane comments may be found in Pratt's
_History of Music_, pp. 427, 501, 502.]
[Footnote 175: "A _classic_ is properly a book"--and the same would be
true of a musical composition--"which maintains itself by that happy
coalescence of matter and style, that innate and requisite sympathy
between the thought that gives life and the form that consents to
every mood of grace and dignity, and which is something neither
ancient nor modern, always new and incapable of growing old."
Lowell, _Among My Books_.]
Beginning, however, with Schubert and Weber--the two first
representatives of the romantic group--there is a marked novelty of
content and style; and if we drop the terms and confine ourselves to
the inner evidence of the music itself, we note a difference which may
be felt and to a certain extent formulated. To take extreme types for
the sake of vivid contrast, let us compare the compositions of Haydn
and Mozart with those of Berlioz and Liszt. In the former there is
repose, restraint and a perfect finish in the structural presentation;
a feeling of serenity comes over us as we listen. In the latter, a
peculiar intensity of expression, an attempt to fascinate the listener
by the most intimate kinds of appeal, especially to the senses and
fancy, regardless of any liberties taken with former modes of
treatment. The purely classical composer is always master of his
subject, whereas the romanticist is often carried away by it.
Classical works are objectively beautiful, commending themselves to
everyone like works of nature, or, let us say, like decorative
patterns in pure design. Romantic works are subjective, charged with
individuality and demand a sensitive and sympathetic appreciation on
the part of the hearer. It is evident that many of these tendencies
are found clearly outlined in the works of Beethoven. In fact, as has
been said, he was not only the climax of the classical school, but the
founder of the new era--opening a door, as it were, into the
possibilities of a more intense, specialized form of emotional
utterance and a freer conception of form. These special
characteristics were so fully developed by Beethoven's successors,
Schubert, Weber, Schumann, Chopin, etc. that they are always grouped
together as the Romantic School. A striking feature in this whole
Romantic group is the early flowering of their genius and the
shortness of their lives--Weber, forty years, Schubert, thirty-one,
Schumann, forty-six, Mendelssohn, thirty-eight, Chopin, forty. In the
case of all the composers we have hitherto studied, with the exception
of Mozart, their masterpieces have been the result of long years of
patient, technical study and hence show that finish and maturity of
style which come only with time. But the precocity of the Romanticists
is astounding! Many of Schubert's famous pieces were composed in his
earliest manhood; Mendelssohn's _Midsummer Night's Dream_ Overture
dates from his sixteenth year; Schumann's best pianoforte works were
composed before he was thirty. The irresistible spontaneity and vigor
of all these works largely atone for any blemishes in treatment. We
feel somewhat the same in the case of Keats and Shelley in comparison
with Milton, and are reminded of Wordsworth's lines, "Bliss was it in
that hour to be alive, but to be young was very Heaven."[176] Why
expect senatorial wisdom and the fancy of youth in any one person!
[Footnote 176: Compare also the definition of genius by Masters in the
_Spoon River Anthology_:
"In youth my wings were strong and tireless,
But I did not know the mountains.
In age I knew the mountains
But my weary wings could not follow my vision--
Genius is wisdom and youth."]
A most important distinction between a classical and a romantic
composer is the knowledge and love of literature shown by the latter.
Although Haydn kept a note-book on his London tours, and although we
have a fair number of letters from Mozart, in neither of these men do
we find any appreciation of general currents of thought and life. In
many of Beethoven's works we have seen how close was the connection
between literature and musical expression. All the Romantic composers,
with the exception of Schubert, were broadly cultivated, and several
could express themselves artistically in words as well as in notes.
They may not have been on this account any better composers, as far as
sheer creative vitality is concerned, but it is evident that their
imaginations were nourished in quite a different way and hence a novel
product was to be expected. Romantic music has been defined as a
reflex of poetry expressed in musical terms, at times fairly trembling
on the verge of speech. Music can not, to be sure, describe matters of
fact, but the Romantic composers have brought it to a high degree of
poetical suggestiveness. Thus the horn-calls of Weber and Schubert
remind us of "the horns of Elfland faintly blowing" and much romantic
music arouses our imaginations and enchants our senses in the same way
as the lines of Keats where he tells of "Magic casements opening on
the foam of perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn," the chief glory of
which is not any precise intellectual idea they convey, but the
fascinating picture which carries us from the land of hard and fast
events into the realm of fancy. Schumann claimed that his object in
writing music was so to influence the imagination of the listeners
that they could go on dreaming for themselves. A second characteristic
is the freedom of form. Considering that a free rein to their fancy
was incompatible with strict adherence to traditional rules, the
Romantic spirits refused to be bound by forms felt to be inadequate.
Although this attitude sometimes resulted in diffuseness and
obscurity, on the whole (as Goethe says of romantic literature) "a
wider and more varied subject matter and a freer form has been
attained." The chief aim of romantic art being to arouse the
imagination, we find a predilection for the use of solo wood-wind
instruments, which are capable of such warmth and variety of
tone-color. Whereas in the classical masters, and even generally in
Beethoven, the melodies are likely to be the upper voice of a harmonic
mass, or assigned to groups of instruments, Weber and Schubert in
particular showed the eloquence to be gained by the use of such
warm-blooded _solo_ instruments as the horn, the oboe and the
clarinet. Schubert fairly conjures with the horn, often holding us
spellbound with its haunting appeal, _e.g._, in the well-known second
movement of the C major Symphony, the calls of which, as Schumann
said, "seem to come from another world." Schubert was anything but a
thinker, and reflected unconsciously the tendencies which were in the
air; but his wonderful gift of lyric melody was thoroughly in keeping
with the individual expression for which Romanticism stood. He said
himself that his compositions were the direct result of his inmost
sorrows. He was steeped in romantic poetry and the glowing fancy in
his best work leads us to condone the occasional prolixity referred to
by Schumann as "heavenly length." Schubert was well named by Liszt the
most poetic of musicians, _i.e._, a creator of pure beauty which
enthralls the imagination of the hearer. Why expect the work of any
one composer to manifest all possible merits? If we crave dynamic
power of emotion or sublimity of thought we may have recourse to Bach
and Beethoven; but the spontaneous charm of Schubert never grows old;
and it is not without interest to note that his music fulfils the
definition of one of the most poetic composers of our time, Debussy,
who claims that music is chiefly meant "to give pleasure."
We note these same tendencies in Weber as shown in the overtures to
his three Romantic operas, _Der Freischuetz_, _Euryanthe_ and _Oberon_,
which are the foundations of the modern art of dramatic orchestration,
_i.e._, the intensification of certain ideas and situations by the
special tone color and register of solo-instruments or by a novel use
of customary means, _e.g._, the divided violins in the mysterious
passage of the _Euryanthe_ overture. Another favorite means of
arresting the attention was by modulation; not used in a constructive
sense, simply to pass from one point to another, or to connect themes
in different keys, but to furnish the ear with a purely sensuous
delight, corresponding to that which the eye derives from the
kaleidoscopic colors of a sunset. The works of Schubert, Chopin and to
a lesser degree of Schumann abound in these shifting harmonies by
which we seem to be wafted along on a magic carpet. A final
characteristic, shared by all the Romantic composers, is the
prevalence of titles--the logical result of the close connection
between music, literature and the world of outward events,--thus
Mendelssohn's Overture to the _Midsummer Night's Dream_ with its
romantic opening chords, his _Hebrides_ Overture, the musical record
of a trip to Scotland, and Schumann's _Manfred_, from Byron. Liszt
even went so far as to draw inspiration from a painting, as in his
_Battle of the Huns_, and again from a beautiful vase in _Orpheus_.
We shall now make a few specific comments on the style of Schubert and
Weber and then analyze some of their representative works. Schubert
was a born composer of songs, and though his works for Pianoforte,
String quartet and Orchestra were of marked significance and have
proved of lasting value, the instinct for highly individualized, lyric
melody predominates, and all his instrumental compositions may fairly
be called "Songs without words."[177] It is evident that the
solo-song, unencumbered by structural considerations, is one of the
best media for expressing the Romantic spirit, and many of its fairest
fruits are found in this field. Schubert's songs are often tone-dramas
in which the expressive powers of music are most eloquently
employed.[178] Note the poetic touches of character-drawing and of
description in the _Young Nun_ (see Supplement No. 50). Schubert's
pianoforte compositions are miniature tone-poems, mood-pictures--their
titles: _Impromptus_ and _Moments Musicaux_, speak for themselves--making
no pretense to the scope and elaborate structure of movements in
Sonata-form,[179] yet of great import not only for their intrinsic
beauty but as the prototypes of the numerous lyric and descriptive
pieces of Schumann, Brahms, Grieg, Debussy and others. Their charm
lies in the heart-felt melodies and surprising modulations. While
neither sublime nor deeply introspective, they make the simple, direct
appeal of a lovely flower. In the development of music they are as
important as the modern short story in the field of literature; which,
in distinction to the old "three-decker" novel, often really _says
more_ and says it so concisely that our interest never flags. This
tendency to the short, independent piece had been begun by Beethoven
in his _Bagatelles_ (French "trifles"); but these, as has been aptly
said, were "mere chips from the work-shop" whereas in a short piece of
Schubert we find the quintessence of his genius. He was a prolific
composer in the field of chamber music, and the Trios for Violin,
'Cello and Pianoforte, the A minor Quartet, the C major Quintet and,
above all, the posthumous Quartet in D minor, which contains the
entrancing Variations on the song _Death and the Maiden_, are still as
fresh as when they were composed. In these works we do not look for
architectonic power--we must admit, in fact, at the risk of seeming
ungracious, that Schubert is diffuse at times--but our senses are so
enthralled by the imaginative freedom and by the splendor of color,
that all purely intellectual judgment is suspended. The magician works
his wonders; it is for us to enjoy. We have from Schubert seven
complete Symphonies and the so-called _Unfinished in B minor_, _i.e._,
the first two movements and the fragment of a Scherzo. Of these the
_Fourth_ (_Tragic_), composed in 1816, foreshadows the real Schubert
and is occasionally heard to-day. But the immortal ones are the B
minor and the C major, the latter composed in 1828 (the last year of
his life) and never heard by its author.[180] Of this work Schumann
said that "a tenth Muse had been added to the nine of Beethoven." This
symphony is specially characterized by the incorporation of Hungarian
types of melody, particularly in the first and in the last movement.
It is indeed a storehouse of beauty, but the "high moments" are in the
last two movements--the fairly intoxicating Trio of the Scherzo, which
seems as if Nature herself were singing to us, and the gorgeous Finale
with its throbbing rhythms. The first movement is laid out on a vast
scale and holds the attention throughout, but the second movement,
notwithstanding its wondrous theme, suffers from a lack of
concentration; the sweetness is so long-drawn out that we become
sated.
[Footnote 177: Schubert was of incredible versatility and fecundity;
he literally tried his hand at everything: operas, church-music,
ensemble combinations. Since, however, he exercised little power of
selection or revision much of this music has become obsolete. The joke
is well-known that he could set a theatre notice to music, and his
rule for composing was "When I have finished one song I begin
another."]
[Footnote 178: For an original, though at times rhapsodic, study of
Schubert's vocal style see H.T. Finck's _Songs and Song Writers_, and
the last chapter of the Fifth Volume of the Oxford History.]
[Footnote 179: Schubert did compose a number of Pianoforte Sonatas in
the conventional form, but with the exception of the one in A minor
they seem diffuse and do not represent him at his best; they certainly
have not held their own in modern appeal.]
[Footnote 180: For the account of its exciting discovery in Vienna by
Schumann in 1838, after a neglect of ten years, see the life of
Schubert in Grove's Dictionary.]
As examples[181] for analytical comment we select the Menuetto in B
minor from the Fantasia for Pianoforte, op. 78; the fourth Impromptu
in A-flat major from the set, op. 90, and the B minor Symphony for
orchestra. The Menuetto, though one of Schubert's simpler pieces--the
first part in an idealized Mozartian vein--yet exemplifies in the Trio
one of the composer's most characteristic traits, the predilection for
those bewitching alternations,[182] like sunlight and shadow, between
the major and the minor mode.
[Footnote 181: For lack of space no one of these compositions is cited
in the Supplement, but they are all readily available.]
[Footnote 182: This tendency is prevalent in folk-music, especially
that of the Russians and Scandinavians. Schubert, however, was the
_first_ to make such systematic and artistic use of the effect. For a
beautiful modern example see the Spanish folk-dance by Granados,
_e.g._,
[Music]]
The Impromptu in A-flat major, one of several equally fine ones, is
notable for the wealth of its iridescent modulations and for the note
of genuine pathos and passion in the middle portion in the minor mode.
Schubert might well say that his most inspired music came from his
sorrows.
The _Unfinished Symphony_ requires less comment and elucidation than
perhaps any other symphonic composition. The two movements are in
definite Sonata-form--the first, strict, the second, with
modifications; but the quality of the themes is quite different from
that to which we have been accustomed in classical treatment. Instead
of the terse, characteristic motive which, often at first
uncompromisingly bare, impresses us as its latent possibilities are
revealed, we have a series of lyric, periodic melodies which make
their instant appeal. In Schubert everything sings; thus in the first
part of the Exposition of the Allegro we have _three_ distinct
melodies: the introductory phrase, the accompaniment figure which has
a melodic line of its own, and the first theme proper. In any
consideration of this work from a pianoforte version we must always
remember how much the beauty and eloquence of the themes depend upon
the solo instruments to which they are assigned. For Schubert was one
of the first, as well as one of the greatest, of "Colorists." By the
use of this pictorial term in music we mean that the tone-quality of
certain instruments--the mellow, far-echoing effect of the horn, the
tang of the oboe, the passionate warmth of the clarinet[183]--appeals
to our sense of hearing in the same way in which beautiful colors--the
green grass, the blue sky, the hues of a sunset--delight our sight. A
striking example of Schubert's genius in utilizing tone-color to suit
structural needs is found in the transition beginning at measure 38.
This is a single tone on the horn (with a modulatory ending) announced
_forte_ and then allowed to die away, _i.e._, _sf_ [decrescendo
symbol]. So powerful is the horn in evoking a spirit of suspense and
revery that this tone introduces the beautiful, swaying second theme
more impressively than a whole series of routine modulations. The
Development speaks for itself. Though there is little polyphonic
treatment, it holds our interest by reason of the harmonic variety and
the dramatic touches of orchestration. In Schubert we do not look for
the development of a complicated plot but give ourselves up
unreservedly to the enjoyment of pure melodic line, couched in terms
of sensuously delightful tone-color. The transitional passage of the
Recapitulation (measures 231-253) illustrates Schubert's fondness for
modulation just for its own sake; we care not what the objective point
of the music may be--enthralled, as we are, by the magical shifts of
scene. In the Second Movement, likewise, the chief beauty--especially
of the second theme--consists in the lyric quality, in the color of
the solo instruments, the oboe, clarinet and horn, and in the
enharmonic changes, _e.g._, where, in measures 80-95, the theme
modulates from C-sharp minor to D-flat major. Note in the orchestral
score the charming dialogue in this passage between the clarinet, oboe
and flute. The Development, based upon the second theme, with some
effective canonic treatment, shows that Schubert was by no means
entirely lacking in polyphonic skill. At any rate he can work wonders
with the horn, for at the close of the Development (measures 134-142)
by the simple device of an octave leap, _ppp_, he veritably transports
the listener, _e.g._
[Music]
The Coda has a dream-like quality all its own.
[Footnote 183: So appropriately called by Berlioz the "heroine of the
orchestra."]
Weber's permanent contribution to musical literature has proved to be
his operas--a form of art not treated in this book. But the whole
nature of his genius was so closely related to the Romantic spirit, as
shown in the intimate connection between literature and music, in his
descriptive powers and his development of the orchestra, that for the
sake of comprehensiveness some familiarity should be gained with the
essential features of his style. Of Weber it may be said with
conviction that there is hardly a composer of acknowledged rank in
whom style, _i.e._, the way and the medium by which musical thought is
presented, so prevails over the substance of the thought itself. There
are few if any of Weber's melodies which are notable for creative
power, and as a harmonist he was lamentably weak. It has been
scathingly said, though with considerable truth, that all his melodies
are based upon an alternation of tonic and dominant chords![184] But
when we consider what his themes are meant to describe, the pictures
they evoke and their orchestral dress, we must acknowledge in Weber
the touch of real poetic genius. To quote Runciman[185]--
"If you look, and look rightly, for the right thing in Weber's music,
disappointment is impossible, though I admit that the man who
professes to find there the great qualities he finds in Mozart,
Beethoven, or any of the giants, must be in a very sad case. Grandeur,
pure beauty, and high expressiveness are alike wanting. Weber's claim
to a place amongst the composers is supported in a lesser degree by
the gifts which he shared, even if his share was small, with the
greater masters of music, than by his miraculous power of vividly
drawing and painting in music the things that kindled his imagination.
Being a factor of the Romantic movement, that mighty rebellion against
the tyranny of a world of footrules and ledgers, he lived in a world
where two and two might make five or seven or any number you pleased,
and where footrules were unknown; he took small interest in drama
taken out of the lives of ordinary men and enacted amidst every-day
surroundings; his imagination lit up only when he thought of haunted
glens and ghouls and evil spirits, the fantastic world and life that
goes on underneath the ocean, or of men or women held by ghastly
spells."
[Footnote 184: A striking illustration of this progression (surely
Weber's most characteristic mannerism) is naively supplied by
Weingartner; when, in his own orchestral arrangement of Weber's
_Invitation to the Dance_, for the final climax he assembles all the
leading themes in combination--an effect made possible only by their
common harmonic basis.]
[Footnote 185: This whole article is well worth reading and may be
found in that breezy though somewhat erratic volume called _Old Scores
and New Readings_.]
Weber's present-day fame rests upon the Overtures to his three operas
of _Der Freischuetz_, _Euryanthe_ and _Oberon_, which are often played
in detached concert form and hold their own for their romantic glow
and for the brilliancy of orchestral effect. By employing for his
thematic material the leading melodies of the operas themselves Weber
has created what may be called epitomized dramas which, if we have any
knowledge of what the titles imply, present us with realistic
pictures. For the use of special tone-color to enhance the dramatic
situation Weber is the precursor of that type of orchestration which
has reached such heights in Wagner and other moderns. From the above
comments it is evident that only the barest idea of the Overtures can
be gained from a pianoforte version; we have selected _Oberon_[186]
because it suffers less than either of the others. Everyone, however,
should become familiar with the mysterious, boding passage in the
introduction to _Der Freischuetz_ (taken from the scene in the Wolf's
Glen) and the Intermezzo from _Euryanthe_ for muted, divided
strings,[187] which accompanies the apparition of the ghost. This is
_genuine_ descriptive music for it really _sounds ghostly_. (See
Supplement No. 51.)
[Footnote 186: Not given in the Supplement since good arrangements for
two and four hands are numerous. To gain the real effect the student
is strongly advised to consult the orchestral score.]
[Footnote 187: The genesis of so many similar effects in modern music,
notably in Wagner.]
The _Oberon Overture in D major_, begins with the intoning of the
motto of Oberon's magic horn, and then follows a passage for muted
strings (piano e adagio sostenuto) and for delicate combinations of
the wood-wind instruments, which gives us a picture of the moonlit
glens of fairyland, peopled with airy spirits. The vision is
dispelled by a sudden _ff_ chord for full orchestra which, from its
setting, is one of the loudest effects in music, thoroughly
characteristic of Weber's penchant for dramatic contrast. The main
body of the work (allegro con fuoco) opens with a dashing theme for
the strings of great brilliancy, most typical of Weber. Though we may
feel that it has little substance (note the tonic and dominant
foundation of the harmony) we cannot be insensible to its abounding
vigor. It is not alone the ponderous things which should move our
imaginations; even a soap-bubble is a wonderful phenomenon. The theme
is expanded to a climax, in measure 28 (counting from the allegro), of
great sonority and considerable harmonic boldness. After some
reminiscent appearances of the introductory horn-call, a
long-sustained dominant note introduces the second theme which seems a
bit cloying, to be sure, but is just suited to the melting tone-color
of the clarinet. The closing theme borders on triviality; the
Exposition ends, however, with some exceedingly brilliant
improvisations on the rhythmic figure of the main theme. The following
Development is rather flimsy and we need expend upon it no critical
powder. Weber was a great colorist but not a great architect. These
qualities are united only too seldom. In the Recapitulation, which is
shortened by the omission of the second theme--rather overworked in
the Development--he is once more on his own ground of rhythmic life
and dazzling orchestral color. At the close we are convinced that the
overture has accomplished its purpose of graphically depicting the
revels of Fairy-land.
Although they are seldom[188] played to-day, no account of Weber would
be complete which entirely passed over his compositions for the
Pianoforte, _i.e._, the four Sonatas, the concert piece in F minor and
the originally conceived _Invitation to the Dance_, often played in
the orchestral version of Berlioz which is so much better than the
inflated, bombastic one by Weingartner. Weber is classed as one of the
founders of the "brilliant school" of pianoforte playing which,
chiefly through the genius of Franz Liszt, has done so much to enlarge
the sonorous and coloristic possibilities of the instrument. Here
again Weber's fame rests more upon his influence than upon lasting
achievement; as to the importance of this influence, however, there
can be no doubt.
[Footnote 188: Perhaps the whirligig of time may restore them; who can
say?]
The student will be repaid for informing[189] himself as fully as
possible concerning Weber's career and artistic ideals, for he was a
genuine though early exponent of Romantic tendencies. Of marked
versatility, of no mean literary skill and of such social magnetism
and charm that he might properly be considered a man of the world, as
well as an artist, Weber was thus enabled to do pioneer work in
raising the standard of musicianship and in bringing the art of music
and ordinary, daily life into closer touch.
[Footnote 189: The life in Grove's Dictionary is well worth while;
there are essays by Krehbiel and others and, above all, the
biographical and critical accounts in the two French series: _Les
Musiciens Celebres_, and _Les Maitres de la Musique_.]