THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL--D'INDY AND DEBUSSY
Not only as the most distinguished of Cesar Franck's pupils, but by
reason of his undoubted musicianship and marked versatility--his works
being in well nigh every form--Vincent d'Indy (1851-still living) is
rightly considered to be the most representative composer of his
branch of the modern French school.[284] Whether history will accord
to him the rank of an inspired genius it is as yet too early to
decide; but for the sincerity and nobility of his ideas, for his
finished workmanship and the influence he has exerted, through his
many-sided personality, in elevating public taste and in the education
of young musicians, he is worthy of our gratitude. D'Indy is a
patriotic Frenchman believing profoundly that French music has an
important _role_ to bear; who has incarnated this belief in a series
of works of such distinction that, if not unqualifiedly loved, they
at least compel recognition. If he swings a bit too far in his
insistence upon the exclusive glories of French genius, let us
remember that the modern Germans[285] have been just as one-sided from
their point of view--and with even less tangible proof of attainment.
For it seems incontestable that, since the era of Wagner and Brahms,
the modern French and Russian Schools have contributed to the
development of music more than all the other nations combined. It is
for us in America who, free from national prejudice, can stand off and
take an impartial view, to appreciate the good points in _all_
schools. A detailed account of d'Indy's life and works will not be
necessary, for the subject has been admirably and comprehensively
treated by D.G. Mason in his set of _Essays on Contemporary Composers_
and in the article by E.B. Hill in the _Art of Music_, Vol. 3.
[Footnote 284: This school may be said to contain two groups: one, the
pupils of Cesar Franck--d'Indy, Chausson, Duparc, Rousseau, Augusta
Holmes and Ropartz, the chief feature in whose style is a
modernization of classic practice; a second consisting of Debussy,
Ravel, Dukas and Florent Schmitt, whose works manifest more extreme
individualistic tendencies.]
[Footnote 285: The well-known German scholar and editor Max
Friedlaender, who visited this country in 1910, acknowledged--in a
conversation with the writer--that he had never even heard of
Chabrier!]
D'Indy's compositions, as in the case of Franck, are not numerous, but
finely wrought and of distinct and varied individuality. His chief
instrumental[286] works comprise a _Wallenstein Trilogy_ (three
symphonic poems based on Schiller's drama) notable for descriptive
power and orchestral effect; a Symphony for orchestra and pianoforte
on a mountain air[287]--one of his best works, because the folk-song
basis furnishes a melodic warmth which elsewhere is sometimes lacking;
a set of Symphonic Variations on the Assyrian legend of Istar; a
remarkable Sonata for violin and pianoforte; a String-Quartet, all the
movements of which are based on a motto of four notes, and lastly the
Symphony in B-flat major--considered his masterpiece--in which the
same process of development from generative motives is followed as in
Cesar Franck. All these works contain certain salient characteristics
proceeding directly from d'Indy's imagination and intellect. There is
always an ideal and noble purpose, a stoutly knit musical fabric and
melodies--d'Indy's own melodies, sincerely felt and beautifully
presented. Whether they have abounding power to move the heart of the
listener is, indeed, the point at issue. Since d'Indy is on record as
saying, "There is in art, truly, nothing but the heart that can
produce beauty," it is evident that he believes in the emotional
element in music. That there is a difference of opinion however, as to
what makes emotional power is shown by his estimate of Brahms (set
forth in his _Cours de Composition Musicale_, pp. 415-416) in the
statement that, though Brahms is a fine workman, his music lacks the
power to touch the heart (faire vibrer le coeur). There is no doubt
that, in any question of Brahms versus d'Indy, such has not been the
verdict of outside opinion. D'Indy is admired and respected, whereas
Brahms has won the love of those who know him; and the truth in the
saying, "Securus judicat orbis terrarum" is surely difficult to
contravene. D'Indy's melodies can always be minutely analysed[288] and
they justify the test; but we submit that the great melodies of the
world speak to us in more direct fashion. For there is, in his music,
a seriousness which at times becomes somewhat austere. He seems so
afraid of writing pretty tunes or ear-tickling music, that we often
miss a sensuous, emotional warmth. He hates the commonplace,
cultivating the ideal and religion of beauty. Bruneau, himself a noted
French critic and composer, says, "No one will deny his surprising
technique or his unsurpassed gifts as an orchestral writer, but we
might easily wish him more spontaneity and less dryness." We cannot,
however, miss the dignity and elevation of style found in d'Indy's
works or fail to be impressed by their wonderfully planned musical
architecture. His music demands study and familiarity and well repays
such effort. D'Indy's work, as a teacher, centres about the "Schola
Cantorum" so-called, in which several talented American students from
Harvard and other Universities have already worked. Here all schools
of composition are thoroughly studied, and the rigid and formal
methods of the Conservatoire abandoned. D'Indy believes that the
materials for the structure of modern music are to be found in the
Fugue of Bach, and in the cyclical Sonata Form and the free Air with
Variations of Beethoven--these forms, by reason of their inherent
logic and simplicity, allowing scope for infinite freedom of
treatment. D'Indy is also a thoroughly modern composer in that he is
an artist in words as well as in notes. His life of Cesar Franck is a
model of biographical style, and he has recently published a life of
Beethoven refreshingly different from the stock narratives. In fine,
d'Indy is a genius, in whom the intellectual aspects of the art,
rather than purely emotional appeal, are clearly in the ascendant.
[Footnote 286: D'Indy's significant contributions to operatic and
choral literature, such as _Fervaal_, _L'etranger_, _Le Chant de la
Cloche_ and _La Legende de St. Christophe_, lie without our province.]
[Footnote 287: From the Cevennes region whence d'Indy's family
originally came.]
[Footnote 288: See the elaborate analysis by Mr. Mason in the essay
above referred to.]
We shall now comment briefly on one, only, of d'Indy's compositions,
the Symphonic Poem, _Istar_, which is a set of variations[289] treated
in a manner as novel as it is convincing; the work beginning with
variations which gradually become less elaborate until finally only
the theme itself is heard in its simple beauty. This reversal of
customary treatment is sanctioned by the nature of the subject, and
the correspondence between dramatic logic and musical procedure is
admirably planned. The story of the work is that portion of the
Assyrian epic Izdubar which describes, to quote Apthorp's translation
of the French version, "how Istar, daughter of Sin, bent her steps
toward the immutable land, towards the abode of the dead, towards the
seven-gated abode where He entered, toward the abode whence there is
no return." Then follows a description of the raiment and the jewels
of which she is stripped at the entrance to each of the gates. "Istar
went into the immutable land, she took and received the waters of
life. She presented the sublime Waters, and thus, in the presence of
all, set free the Son of Life, her young lover." The structural
novelty of the work is that, beginning with complexity--typifying the
gorgeously robed Istar--the theme discloses itself little by little,
as she is stripped of her jewels, until at last, when she stands forth
in the full splendor of nudity, the theme is heard unaccompanied, like
Isis unveiled or, to change the figure, like a scientific law which
has been disclosed. The work is based on three generative themes; the
second, derived from the first and of subsidiary importance, called by
d'Indy the motif d'appel. It plays its part, however, since it
introduces the work and serves as a connection between the variations,
seven in all. These themes are as follows:
1. Principal theme:
[Music]
2. Motif d'appel.
[Music]
3. Subsidiary theme, in form of a march.
[Music]
[Footnote 289: For a detailed analysis the student is referred to the
account by the composer himself in his _Cours de Composition
Musicale_, part II, pp. 484-486; to Gilman's _Studies in Symphonic
Music_ and to Vol. 3 of Mason's _Short Studies of Great
Masterpieces_.]
By following the poem the imaginative listener can readily appreciate
the picturesque suggestiveness of the composer. The work opens with a
mysterious intoning, by a muted horn, of the motif d'appel, and then
follows a triple presentation of the march theme in F minor, scored
for wood-wind and low strings--the melody sung at first by the violas
and clarinets and later by the bass clarinet and 'cellos. This
original scoring establishes just the appropriate atmosphere for an
entrance to the abode of captivity.
[Music]
The first variation, in F major, employing all the tone-color of the
full orchestra, is a gorgeous picture of the Oriental splendor of
Istar. It is noteworthy that each variation contains a modulation to a
key a semitone higher, thus affording a factor of unity amid the
elaborate flowerings of the musical thought. The second variation, in
E major scored for strings and wood-wind, is significant for the way
in which the original theme is expanded into a flowing melody. The
logical derivation of the fabric from the first intervals of the main
theme is obvious, _e.g._
[Music]
The fourth variation, in F-sharp major, scored for pizzicato strings
and staccato wood-wind, with light touches on horns, trumpets,
cymbals, triangle and harps, introduces the scherzo mood into the work
and with its persistent 5/4 rhythm is of fascinating effect.
[Music]
The loveliest variation for warmth and emotional appeal is the sixth,
in A-flat major (at O in the orchestral score) for strings with the
gradual addition of the wood-wind and harps. Its climax certainly does
much to atone for any dryness found in d'Indy's other works.
[Music]
In the next variation, at P, the trend of the work becomes
increasingly manifest for it is written in only two voices, scored for
flute and violins and is a dramatic preparation for the announcement
of the complete main theme which is now proclaimed in unison by the
full orchestra. The work closes with a transformation of the opening
march into F major, its majestic rhythm symbolizing the successful
result of Istar's quest (See Supplement No. 62.)
Debussy, Claude Achille, (1862-1918) is certainly the embodiment, as a
composer, of Pater's saying that "Romanticism[290] is the addition of
strangeness to beauty"; for when we listen to his music we are
conscious of material and of forms of treatment which we have never
heard before. Debussy has listened to the promptings of his own subtle
imagination and has evolved a style as novel as it is beautiful. As
with all real originators, Debussy at the outset was fiercely
challenged, and his music even to-day calls forth intolerant remarks
on the part of those who are suspicious of all artistic progress and
evolution. In this connection it is worthy of note that the French,
notwithstanding their national doctrine of liberty, have been chary of
applying this to composers who were departing from the beaten path.
Berlioz, whom now they acclaim as one of their greatest artists, was
welcomed as he deserved only after his fame had been established among
the Germans. Bizet was but slightly appreciated during his life.
Franck met with fierce opposition from the routine members of the
profession; and Debussy, although the work by which he won the "Prix
de Rome" in 1884 was acknowledged to be one of the most interesting
which had been heard at the Institute for years, was afterwards
severely criticized for the setting made in Rome to Rossetti's
_Blessed Damozel_ because, forsooth, he had strayed too far from
established and revered tradition. We Americans may have a distinct
feeling of pride in the knowledge that the music of Debussy, the
strongest note of which is personal freedom--the inherent right of the
artist to express in his own way the promptings of his imagination--was
widely studied and appreciated in this land of the free before it had
begun to have anything like a universal acceptance among the French
themselves.
[Footnote 290: From this comparison we should not wish it to be
understood that Debussy is merely an addition to the standard Romantic
group of Schumann, Chopin, Liszt, etc.; his style, however, is surely
Romantic in the broad sense of the term, _i.e._, highly imaginative
and individual.]
But can any connection with the past be traced in the style of this
remarkable[291] composer, and can we discover any sources, in the
world of nature, from which he has derived the materials for his novel
and fascinating harmonies? When we definitely analyze Debussy's
harmonic scheme, we see that he looks both forward and back. Much of
his original tone coloring is derived from the old church modes such
as the Lydian, the Dorian and the Phrygian; for example, the
mysterious opening chords of his opera, and the following passage from
_La Cathedrale engloutie_.
[Footnote 291: The _tres exceptionnel, tres curieux, tres solitaire
Claude Debussy_ as he has been aptly characterized.]
[Music]
He is also extremely fond of a scale of whole tones, which had been
somewhat anticipated by Liszt and members of the Russian[292] school.
In this the normal perfect 4th and 5th and the major 6th become
augmented, thus producing a very peculiar but alluring harmonic basis.
[Music]
[Footnote 292: The first authentic use being probably by Dargomijsky
in his opera the _Stone Guest_.]
[Music]
[Music: _Reflets dans l'eau_]
Modern composers have been feeling for some time that harmonic scope
was needlessly limited by clinging too closely to the major and minor
diatonic scales; and Brahms, Tchaikowsky and Franck have all
introduced the old modes for special contrasts of color. But no one
has used them so subtly as Debussy. In his music they often take the
place of our customary scales with their deep-rooted harmonic
tendencies and perpetual suggestion of traditional cadences. This
return to the greater flexibility and variety of the old modes is a
significant feature in modern music and Debussy's example in this
respect has been highly beneficial. As to his alleged use of new
material, an astute French critic has observed that "a revolution is
merely an evolution rendered apparent." By no means all of music can
be found in nature, but the basis is there, and it remains for the
artistic imagination to select and to amplify. Already many years ago
the scientist Helmholtz said, "Our system of scales and of harmonic
tissues does not rest upon unalterable natural laws, but is partly at
least the result of aesthetic principles of selection, which have
already changed, and will change still further with the progressive
development of humanity."[293] In other words the limits of
receptivity of the human ear cannot be foreseen nor can the workings
of the artistic imagination be prescribed. The so-called Chord of
Nature,[294] consisting of the overtones struck off by any sounding
body, and re-enforced on the pianoforte with its large sounding board,
contains in epitome this basic material of music; and the several
octaves represent in a striking manner the harmonic combinations used
at different periods of development. Thus during the early centuries
nothing but triads were in use; only gradually were 7th chords--those
of four factors--introduced. Wagner was the first to realize the
possibilities of chords of the 9th, 11th, and 13th. In Debussy these
combinations are used as freely as triads, _e.g._
[Music: _Pelleas et Melisande_]
[Music: _La fille aux cheveux de lin_]
[Music: _Reflets dans l'eau_]
and he has gone far beyond anything known before in a subtle use of
the extreme dissonant elements, his sensitive imagination evidently
hearing sounds hitherto unrealized. This surmise is corroborated by
Debussy's own statement that, while serving as a young man on garrison
duty, he took great delight in listening to the overtones of bugles
and of the bells from a nearby convent. This chromatic style had been
anticipated by Chopin whose use of the harmonic series in those
prismatic, spray-like groups of superadded tones is such a striking
feature in his pianoforte works. There is, therefore, nothing outre or
bizarre in Debussy's idiom; it is but a logical continuation of former
tendencies. His works show great variety and comprise pianoforte
pieces, many songs, a remarkable string quartet, some daringly
original tone-poems for full orchestra, several cantatas, and--most
unique of all--his opera of _Pelleas et Melisande_, based on the
well-known play by Maeterlinck. A few comments may profitably be made
on each of these types. With few exceptions all his pianoforte pieces
have suggestive titles, _e.g._, _Reflets dans l'eau_, _Jardins sous la
pluie_, _La soiree dans Grenade_, _Poissons d'or_, _Voiles_, _Le vent
dans la plaine_, _Bruyeres_. They are mood-pictures in which the
composer has tried to imprison certain elusive states of mind--or the
impressions made on his susceptible imagination by the phenomena of
Nature: the subtly blended hues of a sunset, the changing rhythm of
drifting clouds, the indefinite murmur of the sea, the dripping of
rain. For Debussy, like Beethoven before him, is a passionate lover of
Nature. To quote his own words, he finds his great object lessons of
artistic liberty in "the unfolding of the leaves in Spring, in the
wavering winds and changing clouds." Again, "It benefits me more to
watch a sunrise than to listen to a symphony. Go not to others for
advice, but take counsel from the passing breezes, which relate the
history of the world to those who listen." Thus we see that Debussy
submits himself to the spells of Nature and tries to transmute them
into sound. The only analogies to use in a verbal description of his
music must be drawn from nature, for in each are the same shadowy
pictures, the same melting outlines.[295] Debussy has a close affinity
with that school of painters known as impressionists or
symbolists--Manet, Monet, Degas, Whistler--and is doing with novel
combinations of sound, with delicate effects of light and shade, what
they have done for modern freedom in color. His music has been called
a "sonorous impressionism." It might equally well be phrased "rhythmic
sound." To those conservatives who find it difficult to think in terms
of musical color, and wish _their_ imagination rather than that of
genius to be the standard, the retort of the artist Whistler is
applicable: To a lady who viewing one of his sunsets remarked, "But,
Mr. Whistler, I have never seen a sunset like that" came the reply
"Yes, Madam, but don't you wish you had?" In his songs Debussy has
been most fastidious as to choice of texts, his favorite poets being
Verlaine, Baudelaire and Mallarme, called "symbolists," since the aim
of their art is to resemble music and to leave for the reader a wide
margin for symbolic interpretation. His songs throughout are
imaginative and fanciful in the highest degree, and the instrumental
part a beautiful background of color. Of Debussy's compositions for
orchestra the one to win--and possibly to deserve--the most lasting
popularity is _L'apres-midi d'un Faune_, which is an extraordinary
translation into music of the veiled visions and the shadowy beings of
an eclogue of Mallarme in which, as Edmund Gosse says, "Words are
used in harmonious combinations merely to suggest moods or conditions,
never to state them definitely."[296] By perfect rhythmic freedom, and
by delicately-colored waves of sound Debussy has expressed in a manner
most felicitous just the atmosphere of remoteness, and of primeval
simplicity. By many this work is considered the most hypnotic
composition in existence, and the writer trusts that his readers have
heard a poetic interpretation of it by a fine orchestra. The salient
features of Debussy's style are found in _Pelleas et Melisande_--by
far the most important operatic work since Wagner. Maeterlinck's play
deals with legendary, mysterious, symbolic beings, and the entire
subject-matter was admirably suited to Debussy's genius. As
Maeterlinck says, "The theatre should be the reflex of life, not this
external life of outward show, but the true inner life which is
entirely one of contemplation." This opera is quite different from any
previously written, in that the characters sing throughout in
_recitative_ now calm, now impassioned, but never in set, periodic
arias. In fact, here we have at last a true musical _speech_, which is
indeed another thing from music set to words. Debussy has defended
this peculiar style in the following words: "Melody is, if I may say
so, almost anti-lyric, and powerless to express the constant change of
emotion or life. Melody is suitable only for the song (_chanson_),
which confirms a fixed sentiment. I have never been willing that my
music should hinder, through technical exigencies, the changes of
sentiment and passion felt by my characters. It is effaced as soon as
it is necessary that these should have perfect liberty in their
gestures as in their cries, in their joy as in their sorrow."
[Footnote 293: For an enlightening amplification of this point see the
first chapter of Wallace's _The Threshold of Music_.]
[Footnote 294: See page 193.]
[Footnote 295: For further suggestive comments on Debussy's style
consult the _Essay on Pelleas et Melisande_ by Lawrence Gilman (G.
Schirmer, New York) and in particular an article by the same author in
the Century Magazine for August, 1918.]
[Footnote 296: Gosse also calls it a _famous miracle of
intelligibility_.]
Now that we may look forward to no more compositions from
Debussy[297]--he died in March, 1918--it is certainly fitting to
attempt a forecast as to the permanent worth of his achievements and
his influence upon future development. Like all music his compositions
may be judged from several points of view: the worth of the content,
the perfection or inadequacy of style and the manner in which the media
of presentation are used. To begin with the last characteristic--there
is no doubt that Debussy has enlarged the resources of our two chief
modern instruments, the pianoforte and the orchestra. By him the
pianoforte is always treated according to its true nature, _i.e._, as
an intimate, coloristic instrument and, in amplifying all its
resources of tone-color, flexible rhythm and descriptive power he is
the worthy successor of Chopin. In his orchestral compositions such as
the _Nocturnes_ (_Clouds_, _Festivals_ and _Sirens_), the _Sea Pieces_
and _Images_, of which the _Rondes de Printemps_ and _Iberia_ are the
most significant, there is a union of warmth and delicacy as
individual as it is rare. _Iberia_, in fact, for vitality of
imagination and flawless workmanship may be considered the acme of
Debussy's orchestral style. The great resources of the modern
orchestra are often abused. Compositions are rich and gorgeous but at
the same time inflated, turgid and bombastic. Certain works of Richard
Strauss and Mahler are examples in point. Debussy's treatment,
however, of the varied modern orchestra is remarkable for its economy.
The melodic lines stand out clearly, there is always a rich supporting
background and we are convinced that everything sounds just as the
composer meant. As to the structure and style of his music, these are
more subtle matters to estimate. We may acknowledge at once that
Debussy's style is free and individual, for he has written his music
his own way, with slight regard for academic models. But a thorough
examination of his works shows no evidence of carelessness or
uncertainty of aim. There is, to be sure, nothing of that routine
development of musical material which we associate with classic
practice--instead a free, imaginative growth. But there is always a
definite structural foundation to support the freedom of expression.
This coherence is sometimes gained by a single dominating note about
which everything is grouped, as, in the _Soiree dans Grenade_, the
C-sharp and in the _Reflets dans l'eau_, an F. Most of Debussy's
compositions imply the principles, albeit freely used, of Two- and
Three-part form and the fundamental laws of key-relationship and of
artistic contrast.
[Footnote 297: The best books yet written on Debussy and his style are
those by Mrs. Liebich and Louis Laloy. Consult also the comprehensive
essay by E.B. Hill in Vol. III of the _Art of Music_.]
In considering the value of Debussy's message, _i.e._, the content of
his music, the animus and predilection of the hearer have to be taken
into account. For his music is so intensely subjective and intimate
that you like it or not, as the case may be. Many persons, however,
become very fond of it, when they have accustomed themselves to its
peculiar idiom. The charge that there is in Debussy no melody of a
purely musical nature, as some critics have asserted,[298] seems to
the writer too sweeping and not supported by the inner evidence. It
may be granted that Debussy's melodic line is very fluid and elastic,
like Wagner's "continuous melody," not definitely sectionalized by
balanced phrases or set cadences. But it surely has its own right to
existence--music being pre-eminently the art of freedom--and let us
remember that Nature herself has melting outlines, shadowy vistas and
subtle rhythms. Debussy, in fact, is the poet of the "indefinite" and
the "suggestive" and his music has had a great influence in freeing
expression from scholastic bonds. Even from the standpoint of the
popular conception of "tune" it is difficult to see what objection can
be made to the following melodies:
[Music: _L'isle joyeuse_]
[Music: _Poissons d'or_]
[Music: _Cortege_]
[Footnote 298: See the 2d volume of _Great Composers_ by D.G. Mason
and also the essay on Debussy in _Contemporary Composers_ by the same
author.]
It cannot be denied that such an individual style as Debussy's is
liable to manneristic treatment, though whether he should be called
"the prince of mannerists"[299] is decidedly open to debate. Some
critics feel that he has over-used the whole-tone scale and it must be
confessed, he has a rather affected fondness for a formula of
block-like chords, _e.g._
[Music: _Danse sacree_]
[Footnote 299: According to Ernest Newman in a well-known article in
the Musical Times (London).]
But these, after all, are but "spots on the sun." To sum up our
conclusions: the following merits in Debussy's music, it seems to me,
cannot be gainsaid. He has widened incalculably the vocabulary of
music and has expressed in poetic and convincing fashion moods which
never before had been attempted. In his work are new revelations of
the power of the imagination. As Lawrence Gilman keenly remarks, "He
has known how to find music (in _Pelleas et Melisande_) for the
sublime reflection of Arkel, 'If I were God, I should pity the hearts
of men.'" Debussy was also gifted with rare critical ability and many
of his observations are worthy of deep consideration. For
example--"Music should be cleared of all scientific apparatus. Music
should seek humbly to give pleasure; great beauty is possible between
these limits. Extreme complexity is the opposite of art. Beauty should
be perceptible; it should impose itself on us, or insinuate itself,
without any effort on our part to grasp it. Look at Leonardo da Vinci,
Mozart! These are great artists."
No account of modern French music would be satisfactory which omitted
to mention several composers who, though of somewhat lesser importance
than d'Indy and Debussy, have nevertheless achieved works of
distinction and charm. These are Chabrier, Faure, Duparc, Chausson and
Ravel. Chabrier (1841-1894) is noted for a bold exuberance and
vividness of expression, for a sense of humor and for a power of
orchestral color and brilliance which have not been duplicated. His
style is entirely his own and he is a veritable incarnation of "vis
Gallica." Born in the South of France, the hot blood of that magic
land seems to throb in his music. We have from him several pianoforte
compositions of marked originality, in particular the _Bourree
Fantasque_, some inimitable songs, _e.g._, _Les Cigales_ and _La
Villanelle des petits Canards_ and, most famous of all, his Rhapsody
for orchestra entitled _Espana_, based on Spanish themes. This work
has proved to be a landmark in descriptive power and shares with
Rimsky-Korsakoff's _Scheherazade_ the claim of being the most
brilliant piece of orchestral writing in modern times. Some of
Chabrier's best work is in his opera of _Gwendoline_, especially the
Prelude to the second act which is often played by itself.
Although Faure (1845-still living) is more versatile and prolific than
Chabrier, his fame rests upon his achievements in two fields--the song
and pianoforte composition. Some of his pianoforte pieces are, to be
sure, of a light, _salon_ type; yet in many we find a true, poetic
sentiment and they are all written in a thoroughly pianistic idiom. In
fact, prior to Debussy Faure was the only Frenchman worthy to compare
in mastery of pianoforte style with Chopin, Schumann and Liszt. As a
song composer Faure ranks with the highest in modern times. The exotic
charm and finesse of workmanship in such songs as _Clair de Lune_,
_Les Roses d'Ispahan_ cannot be denied and the instrumental part is
always worthy of the composer's genius for pianoforte style, _e.g._,
the accompaniment to _Nell_ being a model in its free polyphony and
richness of effect. Faure has been fastidious in his selection of
texts and he is fortunate to have been able to avail himself of the
genius of such lyric poets as Leconte de Lisle, Baudelaire, Verlaine,
Sully-Prudhomme and others. Indeed as a song-composer Faure may fairly
be grouped with the great German masters. His songs are not German
songs, but they are just as subtle in expressing all that is fine in
French spirit as those of Schumann and Brahms in their Teutonic
sentiment. For this reason alone Faure is a commanding figure in
modern French music. He is also the author of a violin sonata which
has enjoyed a popularity second only to that of Franck and a Quintet
for pianoforte and strings of distinct originality.
Duparc (1848-still living) one of the earliest of Cesar Franck's
pupils--though working in practically but a single field and though by
reason of ill health he has written nothing since 1885--will always
hold high rank for the beauty and breadth of his songs, especially
_L'invitation au Voyage_, _Extase_ and _Phydile_. This last is
considered by the writer the most exquisite song in modern literature;
its melody, its modulations, its accompaniment alike are
flawless.[300]
[Footnote 300: An excellent collection of modern French songs may be
found in the two volumes published by the Oliver Ditson Co. in the
Musicians Library.]
Chausson (1855-1899) the most gifted of Franck's pupils, though
without d'Indy's strength of character, was killed by an unfortunate
accident[301] just as he was ready for an adequate self-expression. He
had a sensitive imagination, an individual harmonic style; and in
those works which he has left--notably several songs, a Quartet for
pianoforte and strings and the Symphony in B-flat major, op. 20--there
is found a spirit of genuine romantic inspiration.
[Footnote 301: While he was riding a bicycle.]
Although Ravel (1875-still living) cannot claim to be a pioneer like
Debussy--since in his music there are frequent traces of the
exuberance of Chabrier, the suavity of Faure, the atmosphere and
impressionistic tendencies of Debussy and the exoticism of the
Neo-Russians--yet he is indeed no empty reflection of these men, for
he has his own bold, fantastic style and has been a daring
experimenter in freedom of harmony and structure. One finds a power of
ironic brilliance and of unexpected harmonic transformations certainly
new in modern literature. Ravel[302] is one of the most versatile and
prolific of all the younger Frenchmen having composed significant
works in at least four fields: songs, particularly the set entitled
_Histoires Naturelles_, which reveal an unusual instinct for delicate
description; and pianoforte pieces of which _Miroirs_, the dazzling
tour de force _Jeux d'eau_, the _Valses nobles et sentimentales_, the
_Sonatine_, the _Pavane_ and, above all, the Poems, _Gaspard de la
Nuit_ (_Ondine_, _Le Gibbet_[303] and _Scarbo_) are conspicuous
examples of his style. Furthermore in the field of chamber music are
found a String Quartet, remarkable for inspiration and for certainty
of workmanship, and a Trio (for pianoforte, violin and 'cello) which
is one of the most brilliant modern works, of convincing originality
in its freedom of rhythm, _e.g._, the opening measures of the first
movement.
[Music]
[Footnote 302: The best account of his works and style is to be found
in the volume _Maurice Ravel et son oeuvre_ by Roland Manuel.]
[Footnote 303: _Le Gibbet_ is without doubt the most realistic piece
of musical description in our time.]
Finally, for orchestra his _Spanish Rhapsody_ ranks with Chabrier's
_Espana_ and Debussy's _Iberia_ as the acme of descriptive power and
of orchestral color. His _Mother Goose Suite_ (originally a set of
four-hand pieces but since orchestrated with incomparable finesse)
illustrates his humor and play of fancy. It has become a truly popular
concert number. Ravel's chef d'oeuvre the "choreographic symphony"
_Daphnis et Chloe_ displays an extraordinary synthetic grasp, for all
the factors--plot, action, the musical fabric, a large orchestra and a
chorus of mixed voices behind the scenes--are held together with a
master hand. This work ranks with Debussy's _Pelleas et Melisande_ as
the most significant dramatic work of recent years.
It is evident, we trust, from the foregoing somewhat condensed
estimates that the modern French school is very much alive, that it
has to its credit numerous distinct achievements and that it contains
the promise of still further growth. The French nature, which is
highly emotional and yet, at its best, always controlled[304] by a
regard for fitness and clarity of thought, is particularly suited to
express itself worthily in music, for in no other form of artistic
endeavor is this balance more requisite. Music without emotion is, to
be sure, like "sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal" and dies in short
order. On the other hand, music which is a mere display of crude
emotion soon palls. The works of modern French composers deserve
enthusiastic study for their charm, their finish and their refined
emotional power.
[Footnote 304: Witness the wonderful manifestation of these qualities
by the French in the recent war.]