CHAPTER XII.

FRANCE AND ITALY.

I.

=France.= It will be recalled that Chapter VIII treats of the

flourishing conditions of musical art in France at the time when

it was undergoing a series of metamorphoses that embodied nascent

modern tendencies. The standard of sacred music was being elevated

by Cherubini; French opera in serious vein as well as French

instrumentation had acquired distinctly indigenous characteristics

through the efforts of two native composers, Méhul and Lesueur; the

development of the lighter lyric style as bequeathed by Grétry lay in

the hands of the Frenchmen Boieldieu, Auber, Hérold, Halévy; finally,

a renewed interest for grand opera was awakened by the so-called

historic school of Spontini, which was followed by the enthusiastic

reception of Rossini's melodious and emotional productions, and of

Meyerbeer's sensational and spectacular presentations. Of momentous

purport was the influence that these three foreigners, Spontini,

Rossini, and Meyerbeer exerted upon French orchestration. Meanwhile

an absolutely novel aspect of musical activity was being developed

by Berlioz, who, as one of the founders of the "New Movement," has

already been treated in Chapter XI in connection with Liszt and

Wagner. In resuming and concluding the topic now under discussion,

it would be well to keep the above brief review clearly in mind, in

order that the simultaneous evolution of musical art in France and

Germany may the better be compared.

With the exception of Berlioz, Félicien David and Gounod, few French

writers have, until recently, applied themselves to independent

orchestral music as one of the primary objects of their ambition. In

France, the operatic stage ever has been and still is the centre of

attraction. Even the most recent of her composers can with difficulty

be separated into distinct groups that shall represent exclusive

devotion to dramatic writing only or to sacred music or to concert

works. Nevertheless, the present writer, having attempted to bring

order out of the rather heterogeneous array of nineteenth century

French composers, has classified them according to that particular

branch in which they have been conspicuously successful.

II.

Prominent contributors to instrumental and orchestral music are

Onslow, Reber, David, Franck, Lalo, Reyer, Godard, d'Indy.

Onslow (1784) enjoyed an honorable reputation during his lifetime as

an exponent of classic models. He was a prolific writer of chamber

music, but his style, though correct, was cold, and his three

comic operas are of small importance. Reber (1807) may be regarded

as the successor of Onslow in that he also restricted himself to

traditional forms. He was an excellent contrapuntist as well as one

of the most cultured musicians France has produced; as a result, his

compositions reflect the refinement of his character. Moreover, his

conservative and careful style was modelled after that of the German

classicists, and the constitution of his orchestra is like Mozart's.

Practically all modern instruments, all instruments of percussion

excepting kettle-drums, and even trombones are excluded from most of

his orchestral works. He wrote four symphonies, one overture and one

suite, besides chamber and salon music in various forms.

Although Félicien David (1810) is best known to the general public

on account of his opera "Lalla Rookh," he was at his best as an

exponent of graceful and buoyant instrumentation. Not that his

orchestration can be regarded as epoch-making when compared with

that of his contemporary, Berlioz, for of the two, David was the

more faithful to French traditions, and his scoring is more like

that of Haydn than any other French composer. On the other hand,

David, like Berlioz, introduced certain scenic qualities into his

orchestration, which is ever poetic, supple, and varied. Berlioz's

aim was to re-echo the thoughts of the grand romantic poets, whereas

David was _par excellence_ a dreamer in the realm of picturesque

imagination, of tender love, of ardent passion. In consequence of his

extensive journey through the East as an apostle and missionary of

Saint-Simonism, David acquired an insight and knowledge of Oriental

melodies that caused him to be the first to introduce genuinely

Eastern characteristics into Western music, as strikingly displayed

in "Lalla Rookh." The effectiveness of this opera is largely due to

its fine orchestration, for though the musical contents are clear

and simple, the ideas themselves occasionally lack force, whereas

the harmonies are somewhat meagre. However, David possessed, in

addition to the characteristic feature of _clearness_, a highly

developed talent for artistic disposition of his plans, for poetic

picture-painting, and for rich and descriptive orchestral color.

Of especial significance is his aptitude for accompanying a solo

voice with daintily embroidered counterpoint. David contributed

substantially to the development in France of independent orchestral

music, and displayed, among other things, a commendable appreciation

for well-marked rhythmic effects. His list of instrumental works

includes a symphony in F, twenty-four string quintets, and two

nonets for wind instruments.

César Franck (1822) might be compared in two respects with Cherubini.

Both of them, though foreigners, are rated as French composers, and

the dignity and solidity of their respective styles isolate them

both from the more usual methods of their respective eras. Franck

differs from his French contemporaries by reason of what might be

termed the masculine severity of his inspiration, together with

monumental mastery of polyphonic design and exhaustless command of

orchestral resources. These attributes have earned him the title of

"The French Bach." The opera "Hulda" is a forceful exposition of the

gloomy Viking subject, but Franck rose to the height of his creative

power in his chamber music, and in the symphonic poem with chorus:

"Les béatitudes." That he was influenced by Liszt and Wagner is

undeniable. Not only do his productions give evidence of a reserved

use of guiding themes, but also his orchestration has affinity to

that of "Tristan" so far as intricacy is concerned.

This mention of Wagnerian influence suggests an interesting

comparison between the styles of César Franck and of Lalo (1823). The

latter was a professed admirer of Wagner, and applied such of his

theories as are restricted to "Tannhäuser" and "Lohengrin." This is

particularly noticeable in the opera: "Le Roi d'Ys." In antithesis

to Franck's severe and somewhat solemn style of writing, that of

Lalo betrays a fund of spontaneous invention, curious rhythmic

effects, charming and sprightly instrumentation, and great aptitude

for imbuing his works with the necessary local coloring. Both the

violin concerto styled "Symphonie éspagnole" and the "Rhapsodie

norvégienne" for orchestra are distinctively characteristic. His

chamber music is likewise written with sentient regard for euphonious

effects and artistic requirements, but it is conspicuously in the art

of orchestration that Lalo displays his individuality to the best

advantage.

Reyer (1823) belongs more properly under the heading of operatic

composers, since he devoted himself primarily to that branch

of musical art. He is nevertheless mentioned at this point in

consequence of the interest attached to his ode-symphony "Le Selam,"

which, though not an imitation of David's "Le Désert," is intended

as a sequel to it. He is ranked as a conspicuous representative of

the young French romantic school. Reyer's reputation is generally

confined to France, whereas Reber's eminent pupil, Godard (1849),

has become widely known as a prolific writer possessing marked

individuality. This foreign recognition is due to his works in

smaller form, being a _genre_ of composition in which he excels.

In France, however, Godard has occupied a conspicuous position on

the programs of orchestral concert music. His activity in this

direction has been indeed prodigious, and the results should command

a more extensive acquaintance by virtue of their charming musical

ideas and graceful instrumentation. These orchestral works bring

to light the varied range of his imagination, and for this very

reason some of the most characteristic titles will bear citation. In

addition to a pianoforte concerto and a "Concerto romantique" for

violin, Godard has written an orchestral suite: "Scènes poétiques,"

a "Symphonie-ballet," an "Ouverture dramatique," a "Symphonie

gothique," a "Symphonie orientale," a "Symphonie légendaire," the

lyric scena: "Diane et Actéon," and the dramatic poem for soli,

chorus and orchestra: "Le Tasse." The last named is considered to

be his best work. His chamber music also merits just commendation.

It is evident, therefore, that Godard's already extensive foreign

reputation is overshadowed only by the broader recognition awarded

him in France.

An examination of the works of Vincent d'Indy (1852) reintroduces the

subject of contemporary musical art in one of its extreme phases. In

earnest endeavor and in faithful adherence to high ideals d'Indy has

proved himself a worthy successor to his teacher, César Franck, whom

he copies in exceedingly complicated development of subject-matter.

Not content with incorporating in his works the most advanced tenets

of Wagner, he further has explored the pathway opened up by Brahms.

Wagnerian tendencies have crept into all modern French music, whereas

Brahms has as yet found few imitators among the composers of the

Romance nations. Like each and every French writer, d'Indy has tried

his hand in operatic lines; his chamber music, too, is surprisingly

clever and effective. Nevertheless, he is essentially a symphonist;

"Wallenstein" is evolved on broad and dignified lines, and displays

a masterful deployment of orchestral resources. "Le Chant de la

Cloche," dramatic legend adapted from Schiller, is perhaps the most

remarkable of d'Indy's works; it shows marked resemblance to Wagner's

later style by reason of its elaboration of detail and intricacy of

orchestration.

Before turning from this series of composers, it is again desired to

emphasize the peculiar fact that all French writers both past and

present have been consistent in first experimenting in the dramatic

field before settling down to the exacting requirements of equally

arduous and perhaps intellectually higher orchestral and chamber

music. That the authorship of a more or less important opera has been

conceded to every one of the above-mentioned composers need therefore

excite no further comment.

III.

A little coterie of Frenchmen have distinguished themselves by

almost exclusive devotion to the lightest of operatic forms. Just

as Lortzing and his contemporaries rendered incalculable service to

German musical art by clothing their vivacious productions in dainty

orchestral raiment, so has France been the gainer through the efforts

of Adam, Maillart and Delibes.

Adolphe Adam (1803) was a most productive writer. The distinctive

features of his talent are opulence of melody and rhythmic grace. The

best known of his works is, of course, the "Postillon de Longjumeau."

Maillart (1817), pupil of Halévy, winner of the Prix de Rome, and

author of six operas, was, strange to say, most successful in

composing a work that appeals especially to the German mind. "Das

Glöckchen des Eremiten" still retains its place in the standard

repertories of Germany. Delibes (1836), composer of the sprightly

comic operas: "Le Roi l'a dit" and "Lakmé," and of the charming

ballets: "Sylvia" and "Coppélia," enriched the world with a far

higher type of composition than either Adam or Maillart. His music,

by virtue of its grace and refinement, is of such intrinsic value

as to entitle Delibes to be ranked among the foremost composers of

the nineteenth century. Application to lighter forms only by no

means excludes sterling musicianship. Delibes' music is typically

French, and by its very naïveté, descriptive powers and clever

instrumentation overcomes the impediment of a frequently faulty

libretto.

IV.

It is proposed to classify under one distinctive and decidedly

exclusive heading the names of six truly eminent composers, who, as

worthy contemporaries and successors of Berlioz, may, with him, be

regarded as the foremost French representatives of the nineteenth

century. These are Thomas, Gounod, Saint-Saëns, Bizet, Chabrier,

and Massenet. All these men have become famous as dramatic writers,

but the scope of their genius is such as to entitle them to almost

equally high rank as composers of orchestral and chamber music. It

is further proposed to single out Saint-Saëns as being undoubtedly

the greatest French orchestrator since Berlioz, although the present

writer is inclined to believe that Chabrier would have equalled

him, had not his career been abruptly ended.[81] At all events,

Saint-Saëns and Richard Strauss are at present the undisputed living

masters of orchestration.[82]

[Footnote 81: Another interesting and rather bold point of view in

reference to the significance of Chabrier's undertakings is to the

effect that "Chabrier was an inspired experimenter, but would never

have become a master; nevertheless, his experiments are more valuable

to art than the mastery of Saint-Saëns."]

[Footnote 82: See footnotes on pages 137 and 161 in reference to the

masterly orchestration of Debussy and of Elgar.]

In order to discover to what extent Saint-Saëns has been aided by

his immediate compatriots, one must turn to the sound methods and

sterling achievements of AMBROSE THOMAS (1811-1896). A worthy

exponent of lyric opera, Thomas possessed like Gounod a high

degree of musical intelligence. His music contains the essence of

polish and refinement, but its very elegance is at times detrimental

to emphatic utterance, to dramatic strength, to intensity of passion.

Certain Italian formulae are in evidence. German influence is also

apparent. Neither of these characteristics, however, predominates

over Thomas' personal individuality and French methods of artistic

development. "Mignon" is veiled in a filmy haze of poesy, owing to

the delicacy of its orchestration. "Hamlet," which is in reality a

grand lyric tragedy, represents an extreme phase of French grand

opera. Wagnerian principles are here frankly espoused, whereas the

solidity and vigor of the orchestration display an advance upon

the scoring of "Mignon" and "Françoise de Rimini." Thomas never

overloaded his scores. The orchestration is clear in _ensemble_,

ingenious in detail, always interesting, appropriate, varied.

Characteristic tone-color and poetically conceived combinations

reveal the skilful hand of a competent master.

GOUNOD (1818-1893) stands as the most illustrious recent

representative of lyric opera. Like Thomas, he was strongly

influenced by contemporaneous German progression, but in some ways

Gounod exhibits greater conservatism and again greater license than

Thomas. This composite style of writing is undoubtedly due to the

fact that Gounod diligently studied the works of two composers of

differentiated views--Berlioz and Schumann, allowed himself further

to be influenced by Weber and Wagner, and yet accepted in a measure

the prevailing Gallic conventionalities of his day as well as the

traditions inherited from Meyerbeer. Compared with Meyerbeer,

however, Gounod possessed a far keener insight into those essentials

that lead to the construction of a genuine music drama. Not that

Gounod's operas embody such essentials to a degree sufficient to

dignify them with the title of music dramas, for they lack structural

continuity, contain an over-abundance of set arias, are frequently

guilty of harboring superficially composed accompaniments, and

betray carelessly developed inner details. On the other hand, Gounod

displays a rare gift for melody and euphony, his feeling for genuine

expression and characterization is sincere, the tone-colors are

admirably adapted to the requirements of the situation, and his

thematic development toward some ultimate climax is often superb. In

a word, Gounod stands midway between the classical and the popular.

His music is not quite pure, being tainted by a suggestion of the

sentimental and of the chanson style. In the art of orchestration,

however, Gounod exhibits the unusual attribute of attaining excellent

results without apparent effort. His scoring may not disclose

material increase of orchestral resources, since it follows the

general path indicated by Auber and Meyerbeer; but it further shows

that he possessed a considerable knowledge of the German science of

instrumentation which he used to good advantage. The lyric operas

"Faust," "La Reine de Saba," "Roméo et Juliette," as well as the

oratorios "Mors et Vita" and "The Redemption" abound in interesting

instrumental details and clever orchestral devices. Not only are the

vocal parts admirably supported and characterized, but the orchestra

also frequently reveals hidden emotions and passions of the stage

characters by means of subtle thematic reminiscences from earlier

scenes. This suggestive trait is pointedly illustrated in "Faust"

when the muted violins break in upon Marguerite's vain attempt to

pray, with the dainty waltz theme of her former joyous days. Another

striking feature of Gounod's orchestration is its refinement, and as

already intimated, few have excelled him in ability to procure rich

effects with comparatively simple means. Thus the "Redemption" is

scored for but eight instruments of wood, four horns, two trumpets,

three trombones, kettle-drums, bass-drum, cymbals, together with

strings and organ. Even when the organ is silent, the results are

remarkably full and sonorous in spite of the absence of triplets of

wood instruments, of English horn, of bass-clarinet, of bass-tuba,

and of the harp. In all of Gounod's works it will be found that

particularly the brasses are made to yield soft harmonies of limpid

purity, whereas the instruments of percussion are reserved to

reproduce novel and picturesque effects. Incidental mention must

further be made of his free use of the harp, as illustrated, for

example, by the slow scale for that instrument in the middle of the

introduction to "Faust."

SAINT-SAËNS[83] (1835), greatest of living French composers

and mightiest of her orchestral exponents after Berlioz, is

assuredly a modern composer in the full sense of that expression.

Yet the background of his principles differs but slightly from

those of Thomas and Gounod. Plainly in evidence are the outlines

of Meyerbeer's operatic forms, in spite of Saint-Saëns' obvious

desire to break away from recognized models. On the other hand, the

suppression of detached numbers and the adherence to representative

and guiding themes disclose his involuntary leanings toward the

doctrines of the Bayreuth master, notwithstanding his openly

avowed avoidance of such intentions beyond the willingness to

accept the advanced spirit of the age. But as to this, it has

even been claimed that Saint-Saëns was the first French master to

apply Wagnerian principles, even though doing so with discretion.

Finally, this peerless contemporary seems to have appropriated

to himself all the virtues of eclectic orchestration without one

mitigating vice, and crowns this achievement with the indelible

impress of his own intensely original individuality to an extent

that is verily epoch-making in the history of orchestral evolution.

The dual aspect of his symphonic works presents a unique contrast,

displaying, as it does, their author's versatility. Saint-Saëns has

expressed himself both in symphonies and in symphonic poems. There

are four of each on record. Of the former, that in C minor may be

looked upon as the most interesting. It contains no programmatic

idea, and at first sight would appear to embody a departure from

classic form in that it is laid out in two grand divisions. Closer

scrutiny, however, reveals a faithful adherence to accepted usage,

for the first division contains an introduction, an allegro, and

an adagio, whereas the formal structure of the second division

can be analyzed into what are in reality a scherzo and a finale.

Reminiscent themes and episodes from the first division reoccur in

the second, in order to give coherence and organic unity to the

work as a whole. Another interesting feature of this symphony is

the adaptation of Wagner's "Lohengrin" methods for the wood-wind.

The score also includes parts for organ as well as for pianoforte.

The four symphonic poems are none of them of the same magnitude and

significance as those of Liszt; but just as Liszt's form is simpler

and more readily to be grasped than that of Berlioz, so Saint-Saëns'

formal structure may be regarded as advancing yet further, if

clearness and compactness be the desired objective. "Phaéton"[84]

and "Le rouet d'Omphale"[85] display marvellous skill in scoring;

"La jeunesse d'Hercule"[86] is the most elaborate, whereas the

"Danse Macabre"[87] is the most characteristic as well as the most

popular. Saint-Saëns' chamber music affords an interesting study in

diversity of style between it and that of his eminent contemporary,

Brahms. Both styles display a master's touch, but Saint-Saëns'

chamber music is conspicuous for its simplicity of treatment and

admirable clearness. He has given still further proof of versatility

in a series of memorable concertos. Had Saint-Saëns been content

to write nothing beyond such sterling instrumental works as just

referred to, his reputation would not have suffered. But the full

strength of his greatness reveals itself in attainments of still

wider significance. In addition to several oratorios, including the

so-called Biblical opera "Le Déluge," no less than nine operas must

be accredited to his pen, and of these, "Samson et Dalila" looms up

as the ideal embodiment of Saint-Saëns' highest creative genius.

Lofty imagination, naturalness of expression and dramatic intensity

join in making this opera his greatest masterpiece. Unique is the

opening chorus for the captive Hebrews in oratorio style, whereas

the ballet in the last act presents an effective adaptation of the

peculiar Eastern scale. The orchestration is elaborate, rich and

varied,--intricate without being obtuse. Saint-Saëns wields his

large orchestral forces with unerring judgment; the score abounds

in effects now scintillating or impassioned, now melancholy or

heroic. The addition to the usual couplets of wood-wind of a third

flute, an English horn, a bass-clarinet and a contra-bassoon again

demonstrates the indispensability of triplets of related instruments.

Opportunity for obtaining pure tone-color in independent harmony

from each family of the brass is effected by employing four horns,

by the union of two trumpets and two cornets, by adding to the

three trombones a bass-tuba, and by making further requisition for

two opheicleides, which together with the bass-tuba are capable of

independent deployment. The strings are reënforced by two harps. The

array of instruments of percussion would appear rather formidable;

nevertheless, they are never used aggressively. This group includes

three kettle-drums, a bass-drum, cymbals, tam-tam, a triangle, a

Glockenspiel, a tambour de basque, and _crotales_ or castagnettes

made of wood and iron. May Saint-Saëns live to enthrall the world a

second time with a work that shall rival if not surpass in beauty the

rare seductive charm of "Samson et Dalila"!

[Footnote 83: See Appendix of Musical Illustrations, Examples 76 to

82.]

[Footnote 84: Ex. 79.]

[Footnote 85: Ex. 76, 77, 78.]

[Footnote 86: Ex. 82.]

[Footnote 87: Ex. 80, 81.]

No opera has won greater universal popularity than that which has

immortalized the name of its author, BIZET (1838-1875).

What is more, this unreserved approval is merited and will endure.

An elaborate discussion of his style would be futile; every

professional, every amateur is thoroughly familiar with it. The

prevalent custom of French composers to build upon French traditions,

but to allow German truthfulness of expression and interpretation

to dominate their works was consistently followed by Bizet. The

complaint has been made that the traditional disconnected forms of

"Carmen" hamper the dramatic action of an otherwise perfect creation.

Continuity of music might, perhaps, enhance its already unexcelled

effectiveness, but such questionable criticisms are indeed paltry

in the face of such melodic and harmonic originality, such dramatic

intensity, such orchestral color! Bizet's skill in discovering

novel traits of instrumentation was little short of marvellous. The

orchestra prepares, accompanies, and moralizes upon the action. There

is a wealth of rhythm and color; absolutely truthful characterization

and the finest of feeling for artistic details are revealed on

every page. It is to be regretted that "L'Arlésienne" has not been

considered worthy of more frequent performance. Though its libretto

cannot be compared with that of "Carmen," Bizet's setting of

"L'Arlésienne" is in some respects more artistic than that of his

masterpiece. Its orchestration is practically inseparable from the

drama itself, whereas a considerable portion of "Carmen" can be given

on the concert stage with good effect. Parenthetically it might be

added that the former work contains in its prelude a highly ingenious

solo for the rarely heard saxophone.

In the repertoire of a few progressive European stages is to be found

a work of exceptional genius entitled "Gwendoline" by EMMANUEL

CHABRIER (1841-1894). So highly imaginative and poetical are

its attributes as to warrant the assertion that "Gwendoline" is

the best recent French opera, if not the most advanced exposition

of existing Franco-German music dramas. No less an authority than

Reyer, was, in spite of his usually conservative views, moved to

criticise this masterpiece in the following favorable terms: "Je me

trouve en présence d'une oeuvre extrêmement intérressante, renfermant

des pages superbes et qui dans ses parties les moins saillantes,

porte quand même la griffe puissante d'un compositeur admirablement

doné." Chabrier did not devote himself seriously to music until he

was nearly forty years of age. Shortly before deciding to become

a professional, he had been quite successful with an opéra-bouffe

called "L'Étoile." "Gwendoline," however, developed at one stroke

his dormant creative powers in a manner truly remarkable. (Charming

though inconsistent is the adaptation of an Irish melody in one of

the most picturesque scenes.) An enthusiast for Wagner, Chabrier

nevertheless branched out into a style that is distinctly his own.

The libretto of "Gwendoline" may, perhaps, bear some resemblance to

"Der Fliegende Holländer" and to "Lohengrin." Gwendoline's recital

of her dream in the first act is suggestive of Senta's, whereas in

the second act, the love scene after the pagan marriage ceremony

recalls the similar episode between Elsa and Lohengrin. Not so with

the music. Striking originality, daring harmonic innovations, and

above all marvellous skill in orchestral treatment constitute the

distinctive features of Chabrier's individuality. The present writer

has had opportunity for studying the manuscript score of "Gwendoline"

after its revision by the eminent Bayreuth and Munich director,

Hermann Levi. Judging from previously heard performances, there

had been pictured a monumental accumulation of black notes and an

intricate web of interwoven polyphony. These expectations were not

justified. Needless to say that the instrumentation is not that of a

Mozart, nor are the usual complicated and massive resources of modern

orchestration lacking at the necessary moment. On the other hand, the

reticence displayed during most of the accompanying polyphony to the

vocal parts rivals that of Wagner's highest attainment as embodied in

the first act of "Die Walküre." Effects that suggest to the listener

the union of peculiar composites of tone-color, resolve themselves on

paper to perhaps a few simple chords for flutes in their low range,

extending across the entire page; or again to the gentle undulations

of muted strings deployed in keys of many signatures, whereby subdued

and grayish tints are procured. Chabrier's orchestration suggests a

progressive yet peculiar phase of Wagnerism enveloped by a tinge of

melancholy and softened by the delicate touch characteristic of the

French. Masculine scoring as embraced in the rather brutal overture

is the exception rather than the rule. The first act of a second

unfinished music drama entitled "Brisëis" was edited a few years ago

by Levi, but in spite of its undeniable originality, it proved a

disappointment to the present writer. Chabrier further wrote a comic

opera: "Le Roi malgré Lui," which, though daintily scored, is also

inferior to his masterpiece. The orchestral rhapsody "España" with

its wonderful exhibition of skilful instrumentation constitutes his

only really popular work, but it is to be hoped that the time may not

be far distant when the musical world shall awake to the significance

of "Gwendoline."

In marked contrast to the limited appreciation shown for

Chabrier's eminent accomplishments is the universal fame enjoyed

by MASSENET (1842) during his lifetime. Essentially a dramatic

writer, the latter has tried his hand at both comic and grand

opera. Of the former, "Manon" is a general favorite; of the

latter, wide-spread interest has been excited by "Hérodiade," "Le

Cid," and "Werther." The music to De Lisle's "Les Erinnyes" deserves

notice if for no other reason than the peculiar antique coloring that

permeates the orchestration. Massenet possesses above all a highly

developed feeling for sensuous charm. His style is distinctly poetic

and presents no exception to the prevailing custom of embodying both

the guiding theme idea as well as the more general philosophical

and orchestral principles of Wagner. Unreserved acceptance of such

theorems in their extreme phase reveals itself in the recently

presented "Werther." Much of Massenet's harmonic treatment displays

undeniable traits of originality, and his scoring is rich and

variated. His activity also as a composer for the concert stage has

been untiring, but he is at his best as an operatic writer, nor do

his orchestral works approach those of Saint-Saëns. As to this,

however, neither has any other modern French composer as yet equalled

Saint-Saëns, even though several younger writers, and notably

Debussy, are successfully demonstrating possibilities quite beyond

the scope of Saint-Saëns' achievements. Of Massenet's orchestral

works, the most important to be recorded are the two suites, the

"Hungarian" and the "Scènes pittoresques," besides the overture to

Racine's "Phèdre." This last is undeniably Massenet's representative

concert piece, embodying as it does virile force, impassioned

sentiment and exceptional orchestration.

V.

As in Germany so in France has the array of sterling composers

belonging to the nineteenth century assumed such extensive

proportions that the historian's well-meant intentions to be

concise are in danger of being frustrated. Only with regret can

the temptation to search for further indications of orchestral

innovations be set aside. On the other hand, one is obliged to

concede that the recent progress of French instrumentation is

entirely due to the series of eminent composers with which we have

just been occupied, nor has the art of orchestration advanced as

yet beyond that of Saint-Saëns and of Chabrier, unless we accept

the efforts of Debussy as rich in promise as well as in interest.

Omitting, therefore, the names of a host of other worthy aspirants,

there remains only the seemingly indispensable mention of two

secondary composers of recognized merit: Dubois and Paladhile;--of

the eminent expounders on orchestration: Gevaërt and Lavoix;--of

the literary writers and champions of the new school of thought:

Vidal, Benoit and Joncières;--of the organist-composers: Guilmant and

Widor;--of the representatives of the fair sex: Augusta Holmès and

Cécile Chaminade, together with one of the most recent comets on the

dramatic horizon: Gustave Charpentier.

The works of Dubois (1837) bear the stamp of exceptional ability and

versatility. In addition to a successful grand opera entitled "Aben

Hamet," the list includes an oratorio "Paradise Lost," a ballet "La

Farandole," a concert overture "Frithjof," a pianoforte concerto, and

several orchestral suites. Paladhile (1844), a pupil of Halévy, has

made himself popular with "Mandolinata," besides winning the respect

of the professional world in the cosmopolitan field of grand and

comic opera, symphonies, masses, and minor works.

By a strange coincidence the three standard expositions of practical

instrumentation and æsthetic orchestration are conceived in the

French language,--the authors of these works being, of course,

Berlioz, Gevaërt and Lavoix. Gevaërt (1828) merits the reputation

not only of a musical savant but of a prolific composer as well.

His "Nouveau Traité de L'Instrumentation" is not only a worthy

sequel to Berlioz's, but has to a great extent actually displaced

it. Of an entirely different stamp but equally indispensable to the

student of orchestral evolution is the comprehensive "Histoire de

L'Instrumentation" by Lavoix (1846). Further eulogistic comments upon

these world-renowned treatises would seem superfluous.

The literary writer, Vidal (1820), must also be mentioned as

an authority in one branch of instrumentation by virtue of his

voluminous work entitled "Les Instruments à archet." It contains an

admirable account of stringed instruments as well as of their makers,

their performers, their composers. Benoit (1834) is identified with

the advancement of musical art in Flanders, and the nature of his

teachings emphasizes his strong Germanic convictions. He set to

music several Flemish melodramas, but is especially to be commended

for an essay on "L'École de Musique Flamande et son Avenir." The

unflinching attitude of Joncières (1839) in favor of the Bayreuth

master contributed materially in overcoming both dogmatic and racial

prejudice. His literary writings reveal the mind of a keen musical

critic, but his compositions lack significance in spite of being

extremely modern.

The ascendency of modern French organ playing has been brought about

by Guilmant, Widor, and their associates. But this is not their only

claim to recognition, for their creative efforts bear directly upon

the art of orchestration. Guilmant (1837) has displaced the classical

organ concerto with string accompaniment by creating a more pliable

form under the heading of "symphony for organ and orchestra." Widor

(1845) has likewise shown a progressive spirit in his various organ,

chamber, and orchestral works, which are notable for their artistic

skill and for their display of poetic imagination.

To be looked upon as the first of the gentler sex to hold a

conspicuous position among modern French composers is no small honor.

This privilege has been granted to both Augusta Holmès and Cécile

Chaminade. What is more, their achievements entitle them to a footing

equal in rank to many of their most eminent masculine rivals. Not

content to restrict themselves only to smaller forms of composition,

both of these women have aspired to higher flights in the realm

even of symphony and opera. Nor have their efforts been futile,

for they both have written masterpieces of enduring worth. Augusta

Holmès, also known under the nom de plume of Hermann Zenta, was a

pupil of César Franck. In consequence, her style and orchestration

have acquired a certain solidity and dignity that act as an admirable

counterpoise to the lightness of touch and dainty scoring that are

to be expected from a woman. The opera "Héro et Léandre" and the

symphonic poems "Irlande" and "Pologne" may be looked upon in the

light of her most representative works. Better known in America is

her sister-composer, Chaminade, whose charming songs and pianoforte

pieces appeal to both professional and amateur. The fact of her being

Moszkowski's sister-in-law has its significance in the plausible

assumption that his example and guidance may have aided the full

development of her creative powers. The most characteristic phase of

her individuality finds expression in a pianoforte concerto and in

the symphonie-ballet "Callirhoé." Both these works present much that

is interesting, and are, moreover, effectively orchestrated.

It is yet too early to judge whether the fame of Gustave Charpentier

(1860) is destined to be effervescent or enduring. At the present

moment both the opera "Louise" and his orchestral efforts have most

assuredly excited more than passing comment. Other contemporary

Frenchmen, however, such as Fauré, Chausson, Bruneau, Debussy, have

in turn also attracted attention, but with the exception of Claude

Debussy (1862), none of them prove worthy of retaining more than

the respectful esteem of the public.[88] Charpentier's "Louise" is

conspicuous for its incidental episodes that are full of action, and

the work in its entirety presents an attractive series of contrasted

tableaux. The opera embodies an interesting experiment in that the

lines of the libretto are of a decidedly colloquial _genre_. The

music is modern in the extreme and suggests Wagnerian influence as

pronounced as that of any other French composer with the possible

exception of Chabrier. The latter, however, appropriated to himself

little more than Wagner's fundamental distribution of orchestral

forces, whereas Charpentier has unquestionably permitted the

distinctive atmosphere of "Die Meistersinger" to permeate portions

of his opera. The vocal parts are designedly declamatory rather

than melodic, unvocal, and excessively difficult. The regisseur

of the Munich Opera, Anton Fuchs,[89] declares that in all his

experience at Bayreuth he never found a more knotty problem to solve

than in teaching the singers the correct intonation of some of

Charpentier's vocal cues. "Louise" is scored with the same due regard

for proper effect that in these days is required of all meritorious

composers. Although the orchestration may at times be somewhat noisy

and overburdened, it reveals numerous insignia of characteristic

individuality. Charpentier's orchestral music which M. Colonne has

recently been presenting to the American public is on the whole

analogous to that of "Louise," and the instrumentation is imbued with

delicacy and refinement.

[Footnote 88: During the past two years particularly, Debussy's

orchestral compositions have awakened much interest in France and

in the United States, while his opera "Pelléas et Mélisande" to-day

shares critical favor in Paris with Charpentier's "Louise." Both

these operas are being performed in New York during the present

season of 1907-1908.

The orchestration of "Pelléas et Mélisande" strengthens the

previously formed conviction that Debussy is proving a worthy

elaborator upon Saint-Saëns' lucid and refined methods. The key-note

is transparency combined with an all-sufficient sonority. In a word,

the cardinal feature of Debussy's scoring is the indispensability

of each note, each phrase, each melody, even when assigned to the

so-called secondary instruments of the orchestra--and this is by

no means invariably the case in the scores of even such masters as

Wagner, Elgar, Richard Strauss!]

[Footnote 89: It is but justice to accord Anton Fuchs a large measure

of credit for the recent successful series of performances of

Wagner's "Parsifal" in New York at the Metropolitan Opera House.]

VI.

The attitude of the French public toward orchestral concert music has

undergone a radical change during the last fifty years. Habeneck's

efforts during the first half of the nineteenth century were indeed

praiseworthy and productive, but to the modern conductors, Pasdeloup,

Lamoureux, and Colonne belongs the honor of having placed concert

music in France on a par with that of the drama. The story of their

unprecedented activity has been frequently recorded but will bear

repetition in consequence of its wide significance. The peculiar

fact that until recent times practically all French composers won

distinction in operatic lines before attempting orchestral works has

already been sufficiently emphasized. It will be remembered, however,

that even in the eighteenth century determined efforts had been made

to establish orchestral concerts on a permanent footing, though

they could not then hope to rival the allectations afforded by the

dramatic stage. Retrospection shows us that in 1725 a brother of the

composer, François Philidor, founded the "Concerts spirituels," which

were subsequently fostered by Mouret and other worthy conductors.

In 1770 the "Concerts des Amateurs" as established by Gossec proved

such a success that he followed up the enterprise by reorganizing the

venerable "Concerts spirituels." With the advent of Cherubini, French

concert music received a still more powerful impetus, and through his

resistless energy "La Société des Concerts du Conservatoire" sprang

into existence.

This is the organization that gave Habeneck (1781-1849) an

opportunity to distinguish himself. He repaid the debt with interest,

for these concerts owe their subsequent world-wide fame primarily

to him. Dating approximately from the year of Beethoven's death,

new life was infused into this reorganized institution by reason

of Habeneck's contagious enthusiasm, and it was he who initiated

the French people into the inner mysteries of Beethoven's immortal

creations.

In 1851, two years after the death of Habeneck, there was founded

a second concert organization that was destined to bring both

inspiration and recognition to many a young composer of the modern

French School. It was founded by Pasdeloup (1819-1887) and went

under the name of "Société des jeunes artistes du Conservatoire." It

is not to be confounded with the "Concerts du Conservatoire" which

continued to exist in connection with the conservatory proper. Out

of this "Société des jeunes artistes" emanated in 1861 the "Concerts

populaires de musique classique," which, as the name implies, was a

further progressive step in affording the general public opportunity

for hearing good music at popular prices. Pasdeloup's undertakings

had for their original object the rendition of the best classical

works. But the productions of contemporaneous composers both native

and foreign were by no means excluded, and so such men as Lalo,

Bizet, Saint-Saëns and Massenet were not slow to be the gainers

thereby. That Pasdeloup was eventually forced into the background

by Lamoureux and Colonne is but another proof of the fickleness and

gross ingratitude of the general public. In vain did Pasdeloup in

1886 duplicate Godard's previous attempt to revive the "Concerts

populaires," and this signal defeat undoubtedly hastened his end

which took place one year later.

The career of the violinist and conductor, Lamoureux (1834), has

been triumphant from the time when in association with Colonne he

established a society for the performance of chamber music up to the

time of his retirement in 1897. In 1873 he established an oratorio

society which went under the name of the "Société de Musique sacrée."

Subsequently he became conductor at the Grand Opéra as well as of the

Conservatoire concerts. His crowning achievement was the founding

in 1881 of the "Nouveaux Concerts," better known as the "Concerts

Lamoureux."

Colonne (1838), greatest of all exponents of Berlioz and a zealous

interpreter of Wagner, instituted in 1874 a series of performances

under the name of the "Concerts du Chatêlet" that have since made

his name famous. At the present day he still ranks as the most

eminent contemporary French conductor. His activity shows no signs

of abatement, for season after season finds him and his orchestra

furthering the cause of French music in the musical centres of Europe

as well as in America.

Neither the orchestras of Lamoureux nor of Colonne can be excelled

in smooth and velvet-toned string playing, or in the purity, the

sympathy, and at times the pathos that distinguish the quality of the

wood-wind instruments. In French orchestras, however, the brass does

not always possess that solidity and richness found in representative

German orchestras. This defect may be due to the retention of at

least one alto trombone, whereas the Germans now use either three

tenor trombones, or two tenor and one bass. The bass-tubas also are

frequently too light and small. Particularly in some renditions of

Wagnerian works is the undue prominence of inadequately balanced

brass occasionally noticeable. Finally, the metallic quality of the

kettle-drums, which effects the coloring of the entire orchestra,

sounds foreign to ears accustomed to instruments of less pronounced

incisiveness. These criticisms are equally pertinent to Italian

orchestras, but do not appear to be objectionable to the composers

of either France or Italy. In a word, therefore, the performance of

French orchestras displays a marvel of refinement and finish even to

the minutest of details, but lacks ideal balance and fulness in loud

_ensemble_ passages.

Such is the story of French musical progression during the nineteenth

century! Though she inaugurated no such reforms as those that

signalize the "Sturm und Drang" period in Germany, France has a

record to show that is indeed an enviable one. Formerly surpassed

by the parent of Romance nations--Italy, France has in recent years

left that country far behind in matters both artistic and musical.

For half a century Italy has now been represented by but one luminary

of the first magnitude. Conspicuous in his solitary grandeur, this

versatile hero has captivated in turn the hearts of all peoples,

whether Latin, Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon. In every clime is the name

chosen for our following discourse a familiar household word,--the

name of that wonderful melodist, Verdi.

ITALY.

VII.

The last extended reference to Italian music is to be found in

Chapter VIII, which treats of the contemporaries of Beethoven. Those

pages call attention to Spontini's historic grand opera, to Rossini's

seductive charm, and to the "mellifluous fabrications of Donizetti

and Bellini with which undramatic productions must be classed also

the earlier works of Verdi in consequence of their voluptuous melodic

exuberance."

VERDI (1813-1901) exhibits in the development of his

creative power a series of progressive stages that are in some

respects analogous to Wagner's evolutionary periods. Just as Wagner's

operas and music dramas can be separated into three general groups,

so may Verdi's productions be subjected to similar analytical

treatment. It will be remembered, however, that the orchestration

of Wagner necessitated a second independent classification which

partially ignores the æsthetic and philosophical aspect of

subject-matter. With Verdi, on the other hand, dramatic style,

musical treatment and orchestration matured simultaneously and

gradually.

There is no call to refer to works anteceding "Nabucco," which

launched Verdi on his unprecedented career. The first group may

therefore include such operas as "Nabucco," "I Lombardi," and

"Ernani." The sole claim to merit that these works can offer is in

their wealth of melody, further enhanced by considerable rhythmic

variety. Displaying closer resemblance to Meyerbeer's style than

to _il bel canto_ of Rossini, they further embody reminiscences of

Bellini, and their favorable reception may have been aided by these

very reminiscences. From an artistic standpoint they contain little

worthy of commendation. They lack depth of feeling, whereas both form

and instrumentation are conventional and commonplace. Orchestral

color depends largely upon violent and frequently illogical dynamic

contrasts.

Typical of the second group are "Rigoletto," "La Traviata," and "Il

Trovatore." A further division might have been made in consequence

of the superiority of "Il Trovatore" over "Rigoletto." Such exact

distinctions, however, do not seem necessary in this discussion.

These works show more earnest search for truthful and impressive

expression, greater harmonic variety, and freer treatment of the

inner and lower parts. The dramatic effects are of an intensity

rarely surpassed. The music is, however, not only passionate but

violent, and the tonal effects often suggest unnecessary noise rather

than satisfying sonority. As Ferris expresses it: "Verdi storms

the ear and captivates the senses, but does not subdue the soul."

"Rigoletto" shows increased regard for judicious orchestration and

that particularly in the deployment of the wood-wind. The scoring of

"La Traviata" is picturesque and consistent. "Il Trovatore" presents

passionate outbursts of feeling, a certain striving after effects,

whereas the instrumentation reflects in its not infrequent coarseness

the brutal tendencies of the subject-matter itself. As a whole,

however, the orchestration possesses more independence and richer

tonal variety than that of Verdi's preceding works.

The third and last group is comprised of the "Manzoni Requiem," the

operas "Aïda," "Othello," and the lyric drama "Falstaff." The last

named might almost be classified by itself, representing as it does

the extreme phase of Verdi's involuntary adaptation of Teutonic

dogmas both ancient and modern. In spite of his obvious intention

to make this his masterpiece, it presents a line of departure not

suited to his most felicitous style of writing. However, this _dramma

lirico_ has borne fruit in so far as to be a source of inspiration to

Puccini, Mascagni and Leoncavallo, although _their_ effusions take

the form of "tragic operettas." In spite of the display of virile

power in "Falstaff," Verdi reached his highest development in the

orchestration of the Requiem, in the musical contents of "Aïda," and

in the dramatic continuity of "Othello." In all these later works one

finds unquestionable evidence of Wagnerian influence, at the least

in respect to externals. Notwithstanding Verdi's repudiation of any

such intentions, no composer surrounded by the spirit of the times

could do other than progress. The most noticeable improvements in

the third group consist of freer use of the dissonant element, better

declamation, higher regard for faithful interpretation, painstaking

finish of minor details, and above all an extreme advance in the art

of instrumentation. The functions of the orchestra become more and

more important, and the tonal colors acquire a richer and warmer hue.

The scoring of the Requiem is dignified, religious, yet emotional.

That of "Aïda" breathes the very atmosphere of its Egyptian

setting. In "Othello," the orchestration is essentially dramatic

and impassioned. "Falstaff" accepts the fundamental principles of

Gluck, and the orchestra is raised to prominence equal to that of

the voices. As a result of this concession, Verdi found Wagner's

orchestral resources indispensable to his needs, and the resultant

modern effects are a pleasant surprise. The vocal parts and the

orchestra are here logically balanced, though Verdi's marvellous gift

as a writer of pure and limpid melody continues in evidence.

With the evolution of this third period was instituted one of the

mightiest transformations in the history of Italian opera. That

country has as yet been unable to replace him. The efforts of

Ponchielli, Gomez, Boïto, Sgambati, Buonamici, Puccini, are certainly

praiseworthy, but sink into insignificance when compared with the

splendid attainments of their venerable and venerated model. As to

the rocket-like ascent and descent of Mascagni together with the

present notoriety of Leoncavallo, time alone will decide whether the

path they have chosen be meritorious or meretricious.

VIII.

It will take but a few words to conclude the record of musical

activity displayed by the recent representatives of the Latin races.

They have done practically nothing for the cause of orchestration

other than to branch off into infrequented by-ways that have

necessitated corresponding orchestral treatment. These final remarks

must therefore deal not with the subject of instrumentation proper,

but rather with the æsthetic and philosophical aspect of modern

Italian music, the influence it has exerted, and the direction it is

taking.

Ponchielli (1834) owes a foreign reputation to his opera "Gioconda,"

but endeared himself to his countrymen not alone as a dramatic writer

but also as the author of the "Garibaldi Hymn," written in 1882,

four years before his death. He enjoyed the reputation of being the

greatest modern composer of Italian opera after Verdi. Since the

Brazilian, Gomez (1839), practically adopted Italy as his home, he

is mentioned in this connection. He was a painstaking composer,

but his music frequently reminds one of Verdi's, whose ardent

admirer he was. Boïto (1842) possesses not only the talents of an

excellent composer, but of a highly gifted poet as well. He was the

first prominent Italian to accept without reserve the fundamental

principles governing the Germanic music drama, and thus became the

head of the Wagnerian party in his own country. His "Mefistofele"

did not succeed without a struggle, but it is now accepted as a

standard opera of universal fame. The orchestral efforts of Sgambati

(1843) are analogous to Boïto's adaptation of exotic principles

bearing on operatic forms. To Sgambati belongs the honor of being

the first Italian composer of the nineteenth century devoted to

purely instrumental music and large orchestral forms. Already in

his youth he attracted attention in consequence of an interesting

pianoforte quartet. His structural form, moulded on classic lines,

is logical and well proportioned, nor is it devoid of distinctive

characteristics. His music embodies clear melodic delineation and

free harmonization. The orchestration is, however, its best feature.

It displays sound judgment, sentient appreciation for variety,

contrast, and tone-color; these results are, moreover, attained by

means of a comparatively small orchestra. Concert overtures, chamber

music and the like are comprised in the works of Buonamici (1846)

who was a pupil of both von Bülow and Rheinberger. His chief claim

to recognition, however, like that of Puccini, depends upon his

dramatic effects, which have attracted considerable attention. At the

present moment Puccini is generally regarded by his countrymen as

the foremost living Italian composer. His orchestration is rich and

full, but his music, in spite of its pleasing melody and impassioned

utterance, betrays the influence of Ponchielli who in turn drew

inspiration from Verdi.

What shall be said about Mascagni and Leoncavallo? What have they

done even indirectly for the cause of orchestration? Chronologically,

Leoncavallo (1858) precedes Mascagni (1863), but without "Cavalleria

rusticana" to establish a precedent, "I Pagliacci" might never have

created the furor that it has. A discussion as to the relative merits

and defects of their notorious productions would be here out of

place. As to their relative orchestration, that of Mascagni shows, on

the whole, a lack of genuine musicianly training. Although it must

be conceded that he elicits highly dramatic and intensely passionate

accents from the orchestra, the substance of his orchestration has,

on the whole, a false ring to it and is of a hoarse quality of tone.

It lacks balance, lacks taste, lacks judgment, and is at times coarse

even to brutality. That of Leoncavallo is decidedly more refined

and original. Here again the key-note is a striving after unnatural

effects; but the orchestra is at least full of life, impassioned,

descriptive.

The earlier achievements of Ponchielli, Boïto and Sgambati are

assuredly of more enduring worth. These three representative men may

be regarded as the only noteworthy Italian composers born after Verdi

and before 1850.[90] Such is the present meagre record of a country

that can boast of an illustrious throng of preceding prodigies![91]

[Footnote 90: Although Giacomo Puccini (1858) has long since been

held by his countrymen at his true valuation, it is only during the

past few years that the world at large has come to realize that

his productions are more significant than those of Mascagni and

Leoncavallo who, until 1896, had won an international reputation

that temporarily overshadowed that of Puccini. Even though Puccini

lays himself open to criticism as to the æsthetic value of his

choice of librettos in which ultra-sensationalism frequently plays

so conspicuous a rôle, there is no longer any doubt that his operas

"La Bohème" and "Tosca" have now been permanently admitted to the

standard repertoires of the dramatic stage, and, together with his

recent success, "Madam Butterfly," have caused the entire musical

world to put their stamp of approval upon the earlier verdict of

Puccini's countrymen in regarding him as a worthy successor to Verdi

and as the most gifted living representative of Italian operatic art.]

[Footnote 91: Wolf-Ferrari (1876) is probably the youngest

living composer to whom already more than fleeting recognition

has been accorded. It is not an easy matter to decide under what

classification he should be placed. With a German father, his mother

an Italian, and married to an American, his instincts are Italian,

though he owes the stability of his musical training to Rheinberger

at Munich. His melodic form is conspicuously Italian, while his

harmonic substructure is more or less Teutonic. His orchestration is

eclectic; on the other hand, its cardinal characteristic consists

of a happy appropriation of Mozart's naïve touch. In a word, one

might go yet farther and say that it is precisely this naïveté, not

alone in orchestration but in musical substance as well, that makes

Wolf-Ferrari's music so refreshing. He owes the opening up of his

career to the opera "Die neugierigen Frauen," which has enjoyed a

notable and wide-spread popularity in Germany, whereas he has already

demonstrated his ability to handle large vocal and orchestral forces

for concert performance by his setting of Dante's "La vita nuova,"

which has also excited favorable comment in Germany and has just been

performed in New York with success.]

(Summary on page 178.)

CHAPTER XIII.

HUNGARY AND BOHEMIA; SCANDINAVIA AND RUSSIA; ENGLAND AND AMERICA.

I.

=Hungary.= The music of Hungary with specific relation to

orchestration calls for but brief comment beyond what has already

been said in connection with Liszt on page 92 and with Goldmark on

page 85. It will be remembered, however, that Liszt's Hungarian

origin revealed itself not so much in an indigenous style of

composition as in the propagation of those musical characteristics

peculiar to his race. This adaptation and development of native

dance tunes received plastic form in his "Hungarian Rhapsodies."

Goldmark, on the other hand, cannot properly be regarded as an

Hungarian composer at all. His music is German rather than Magyar,

eclectic rather than local. He revels in the insidious atmosphere

of the Far East. These two men are, however, the only composers of

unusual eminence Hungary has produced. A small group of men may have

remained more faithful to Magyar traditions than Liszt and Goldmark,

but the results of their efforts are not significant. What these

secondary composers did accomplish can be embraced in a few words.

Before doing so, however, it might be well to settle upon the exact

definition of "Hungarian" music. A quotation from Parry's "Art of

Music" would appear to answer this question to the best advantage:

"The original Hungarian music is extraordinarily characteristic in

rhythm and vigorous in melody, but devoid of ornament. The recognized

musicians of Hungary are gypsies, who are of Oriental descent, and

are well known for their taste for finery and ornamentation all the

world over; and in their hands Hungarian music has become the most

ornamental thing of its kind that Europeans are acquainted with. The

ornaments are perfectly meaningless, except as implying singular

dexterity of manipulation and an extraordinary aptitude for purely

superficial invention in the decorative direction. Hungarian music

belongs to the illustration of making a special rise to the highest

point in the middle or early in the latter part of a tune. With

the Hungarians both the dance tunes and local tunes are so full of

energetic intervals and rhythms that even when there are no crises

the impression produced is often emotional."

Representative adherents to Magyar characteristics are Franz Erkel

(1810), Mosonyi (1814), Albert Doppler (1821), his brother, Karl

Doppler (1826), and Czibulka (1842). By admitting the cosmopolitans,

Liszt (1811) and Goldmark (1830), this list of Hungarian composers is

sufficiently complete for all present purposes. Erkel and the elder

Doppler are looked upon as the leading national opera composers. Of

the two, Erkel displayed the greater originality. Author of no less

than nine operas, he reached his highest attainments in "Bank Bán"

and "Hunyadi Laszlò." The latter combines native traits with German

and Italian operatic and orchestral traditions. Albert Doppler's

foreign reputation is primarily due to his extensive concert tours

as a flute virtuoso. His additional activity as a composer, however,

gave him high standing in his own country. The present writer recalls

an interesting conversation with his brother, Karl Doppler--late

Kapellmeister at Stuttgart--in reference to the opera "Erzébeth"

written jointly by Erkel and the two Dopplers. He described the work

as "Gelegenheitsmusik"; such was the haste demanded by the attending

circumstances, that the first act was put into rehearsal before the

last act was completed, whereas Karl Doppler himself was still busy

scoring (in Italian style) on the very day appointed for performance.

Erkel's contemporary, Mosonyi or Michael Brandt, displayed

considerable versatility in forms both small and large, whereas

Czibulka represents a later generation of Hungarian composers. His

position as bandmaster at Vienna gave him opportunity to cultivate

his native attributes in the guise of dance music, in addition to

which he wrote an operetta entitled "Pfingsten in Florenz."

It cannot be said that the collective efforts of these composers

have developed a national style of orchestration. There is plenty of

color and variety in their scoring, but the latent charm of their

works is the result of melodic and rhythmic novelty, and not of

instrumentation.

II.

=Bohemia.= In marked contrast to the above-mentioned limitation

is the evolution of Bohemian orchestration, especially when one

considers the fact that the pioneer, Smetana, was content to build

upon Mozart's system of scoring, whereas already in the next

generation his illustrious pupil, Dvo[vr]ák, developed that art to

a point excelled by none. To mention these two men is synonymous

for both the birth and the maturity of a native Bohemian school

of composition. They both relied upon the Folk-song as a basis

for operation, but Dvo[vr]ák advanced far beyond his master. A

worthy successor to these two men has not yet appeared upon the

horizon, even though Dvo[vr]ák's pupil, Joseph Suk, reveals latent

possibilities for future prominence.[92]

[Footnote 92: Joseph Suk (1874) continues to command critical

favor, as evidenced, for example, by his successful appearance on

the concert stage of Berlin in the fall of 1906. Particularly his

"Scherzo fantastique" is widely known and well received.]

SMETANA (1824-1884) is a typical Czechish composer. Though

he studied for a short time under Liszt and showed himself an

enthusiastic follower of the "New Movement," his melody and rhythm

are thoroughly Bohemian; moreover, his music, like his orchestration,

occasionally reveals a certain naïve touch of Mozart. Smetana wrote

as many as eight operas, but the very first of these, "Die verkaufte

Braut," not only gave him his foreign reputation, but has proved

the best and most enduring of them all. The overture of this work,

with its magnificent fughetta, forms an admirable concert number by

itself. It might be incidentally added that this overture contains

horn attacks of such difficulty as to have proved a stumbling block

at public performance to no less an orchestra than the Royal band in

Munich under Levi's magnetic baton some fifteen years ago. Smetana's

affiliations with Liszt bore fruit in a worthy series of symphonic

poems, whereas his native inheritance is emphasized in his national

dances for pianoforte.

III.

DVO[VR]ÁK[93] (1841-1904) shares with Saint-Saëns,

Tschaikowsky and Richard Strauss the distinction of having done more

for the advancement of modern orchestration than any other composer

since Wagner. For his conservation of classic symphonic forms he

might be ranked as an extreme classical-romanticist, but he has gone

far beyond Brahms or Rheinberger in that his harmonic progressions

are novel and daring, his orchestration varied and rich. Moreover,

his music is conspicuously national in character and embodies the

very essence of Bohemian melody and rhythm. But though Dvo[vr]ák's

form may be orthodox, it is nevertheless subjected to differentiated

transformations according to the particular branch of composition

that is being treated. In this he resembles Saint-Saëns, and some

interesting comparisons might be made between the latter's symphony

in C minor and Dvo[vr]ák's "From the New World." It will be recalled

that this successful experiment of Saint-Saëns allows of but two

grand structural divisions, which, however, reveal the outlines

of the traditional four movements. Organic unity is obtained by

reintroducing important subject-matter from the first part of the

work into the second. Neither Saint-Saëns nor Dvo[vr]ák make use

of a dramatic scheme like Berlioz's "Symphonie fantastique" with

its _l'idée fixe_, but as Krehbiel, the eminent New York critic,

states it: "Dvo[vr]ák in his symphony entitled "From the New World,"

in which he has striven to give expression to the American spirit,

quotes the first period of his principal subject in all subsequent

movements, and then sententiously recapitulates the principal themes

of the first, second and third movements in the finale; and this

without a sign of the dramatic purpose confessed by Berlioz."

[Footnote 93: See Appendix of Musical Illustrations, Examples 90 to

96.]

Dvo[vr]ák's chamber music presents still another phase of the subtle

manner in which he retains and yet remodels the outlines of classic

form. In regard to musical contents, the essence of national melody

and rhythm is ever in evidence, but whereas in their original

shape these folk-tunes are frequently commonplace and even vulgar,

Dvo[vr]ák's brilliant imagination transforms them into worthy

conceptions that are both dignified and noble. These he adorns with

vivacious yet refined orchestration.

Yet another illustration of Dvo[vr]ák's versatility is displayed in

the "Spectre's Bride," which embraces in a felicitous manner the

supernatural element peculiar to the works of Spohr and Weber.

As has been already intimated, the paramount accomplishment of this

modern luminary was his colossal development of orchestral resources.

One can point to his symphonies as models for brilliant scoring. The

"Spectre's Bride," the Stabat Mater, the Requiem abound in beautiful

combinations. The orchestration is warm and rich[94] without being

overburdened, interesting and varied, yet appropriate and consistent.

Minor details receive careful attention. The string writing is clear

and bright,[95] whereas in the handling of the wood-wind instruments

Dvo[vr]ák shares with Brahms the tendency to fall back upon

Schubert's methods.[96]

[Footnote 94: Ex. 93, 96.]

[Footnote 95: Ex. 91.]

[Footnote 96: Ex. 90.]

One by one our great contemporary masters are passing away. Be it

hoped that at a not far distant day Bohemia may again send forth a

missionary to our climes worthy of rank with Dvo[vr]ák!

SCANDINAVIA AND RUSSIA.

IV.

=Scandinavia.= Analogous to the development during the

nineteenth century of Hungarian and Bohemian folk-tunes is that of

the Scandinavian countries. Just as Germany can point to her _Lied_

and France to her _chanson_ as the basis for scientific secular

music on the Continent, so is the recognition of the younger musical

countries dependent upon the distinctive features of their native

melodies. America presents a unique exception to this rule. For

variety and expression, Norwegian and Swedish folk-tunes compare

favorably with those of Russia. A conspicuous characteristic of early

Scandinavian folk-tunes is the progression to the minor seventh of

the scale through its fifth.

[Music]

Again, many peculiarities popularly regarded as Grieg's exclusive

property constitute in reality the fundamental characteristics of the

original source from which he has drawn his inspiration. The national

music of all three countries, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, embodies

shortness of theme, reiteration of the same interval, shifting

tonality, alliance of binary and ternary rhythm, and the plaintive

fall of the leading tone to the dominant. To Denmark belongs the

honor of having produced the pioneer exponent of native melodies

and native characteristics--Gade. His achievements have since been

eclipsed by Norway's sturdy representative--Grieg. In the earlier

part of the century several Swedish composers made a creditable

showing, but in recent years Norway seems to have established her

ascendency. After Gade, the only Danish composer who has attracted

especial attention beyond the boundaries of his own lands is Enna.

Few modern Swedish composers have risen conspicuously above their

predecessors, Lindblad, Hallström and Södermann. Norway, on the other

hand, possesses not only Grieg, but Svendsen and Sinding as well. The

racial affinity disclosed by the music of all these composers makes

possible a collective review of their achievements in chronological

order.

V.

Already in the initial Swedish productions are national tendencies to

be found. Subject-matter, coloring, harmonic and rhythmic structure

all reveal the same general source. Lindblad (1801) became known as

the teacher of Jenny Lind and also as a composer of songs. His melody

and harmony are original and characteristic. His more ambitious works

include a violin sonata and a symphony; the latter was performed at a

Gewandhaus concert. Hallström (1826), in addition to national songs,

wrote seven operas as well as a memorable Idyl for soli, chorus and

orchestra entitled "Die Blumen." Less widely known is the name of

Södermann (1832); nevertheless his efforts are ambitious and comprise

an operetta, a mass, an overture for orchestra, and incidental

music to the "Jungfrau von Orleans." He owes his German reputation

largely to a composition for four female voices, called "Bröllop,"

which went the rounds of that country and was popular in its day. At

least passing reference is at this point due to Normann (1831) in

consequence of the important services he rendered to his country as

an orchestral conductor.

Though GADE (1817-1890) stands as the pioneer of

Scandinavian composers and as chief representative of Denmark, his

works do not present unadulterated indigenous characteristics.

The influence of Mendelssohn as well as of Schumann is plainly in

evidence; consequently he is classified on page 77 among the direct

followers of romanticism. The substance of Gade's music suggests

Northern coloring and surroundings, but the presence of native

melody, harmony and rhythm is less conspicuous. He adhered to the

symmetry of sonata form, though his thematic development is free and

his musical treatment unfettered. Gade first became known through

the overture "Nachklänge aus Ossian" and the first symphony in C

minor. The "Crusaders" still belongs to the standard cantatas of the

present day. He had early been a careful student of representative

scores, and developed high efficiency in the art of orchestration.

Appreciation of the possibilities as well as of the limitations of

each instrument, successful application of "local coloring," and a

ready pen stamp the pages of his numerous symphonies and orchestrally

accompanied choral works.

Turning to the representatives of Norway belonging to a later

generation than Gade's, one naturally recalls the name of Grieg.

Nevertheless Svendsen (1840) was born three years before Grieg, and

holds a position of eminence only secondary to that of his Danish

predecessor or of his Norwegian contemporary. A violinist as well as

a composer, he possesses a gift for spontaneous and flowing melody.

His music rests on a sound harmonic basis, is cleverly developed and

skilfully orchestrated. It reveals national coloring though not to

excess, and reflects the mind of a cosmopolitan musician. Svendsen's

sphere of creative activity embraces various orchestral works,

besides chamber music and smaller pieces. Prominent among these are

the four Norwegian rhapsodies, and he has been particularly happy in

arranging many Norwegian, Swedish and Icelandic melodies for small

orchestra.

GRIEG (1843) represents one of the few recent composers who

have not been conspicuously influenced by ultra-modern tendencies

beyond appreciation for the necessary alliance of poetry and music.

The exact value of his attainments is not easy to define. D.G. Mason

has been rather hard on him in his thoughtful essay entitled "From

Grieg to Brahms," and in Germany there is also a disposition to

regard much of his music as superficial. None the less, Grieg's style

has a charm about it that is irresistible, and this charm goes far to

silence the grumblings of critics more scientifically and profoundly

trained than he. But it is precisely this naïve spontaneity, this

guileless yet poetic touch, this flow of fancy emanating straight

from the heart that endears his music to the more appreciative and

emotional amateur. Though a pupil of the Leipzig Conservatory, Grieg

early took a firm stand against the lukewarm Scandinavianism of

Gade, and bestirred himself in a search for musical utterance that

should present the indigenous characteristics of his own people in

the most favorable light. His solution of this problem brought into

existence a distinct Northern school of composition. As previously

suggested, many peculiarities of his music are but the adaptation of

time-honored Scandinavian characteristics. But though the strength

of his works rests upon the development of Danish, Norwegian and

Swedish Volkslieder, he has imbued these with an element of poetic

coloring, of tender melancholy, of mystery, of quaint humor, of

grotesqueness even to eccentricity that are all his own. Grieg's

style is frequently lacking in breadth, nor does he possess the

powers of a great orchestral composer. Nevertheless, his writing for

strings alone is of surpassing beauty, with its multiple division of

parts, its polyphonic voice-leading, and its impassioned deployment

of violas and violoncellos. When at his best, Grieg handles his

larger orchestral forces with similar rare skill. The orchestration

of Björnsen's unfinished drama "Olaf Trygvason" and that of the music

to Ibsen's "Peer Gynt," conceived as a melodramatic scene-painting,

is tender, fervent, weird, brilliant, stormy, popular, effective.

Notwithstanding all that has been said, Grieg stands as one of the

most original and healthy composers of the nineteenth century.[97]

[Footnote 97: Edvard Hagerup Grieg died in Bergen, Norway, on

September 4, 1907.]

Of the younger Norwegian composers, Sinding (1856) has given evidence

of a fertile imagination that finds expression in some pleasing

chamber music and other works in small form. To judge from his

popular "Frühlingsrauschen," he must be counted among the admirers

of Wagner. His Danish contemporary, August Enna (1860), has devoted

himself to a more ambitious form of composition. His opera "Heksen"

was brought out at Copenhagen in 1892, and at Berlin in the ensuing

year. Two further operas of recognized merit have emanated from his

pen--"Cleopatra" and "Aucassin og Nicolette."[98] The Scandinavians

are not conspicuously dramatic, but Enna's grandfather was an

Italian, which may account for the grandson's histrionic talent.

There are other names worthy of mention,[99] such as Tor Aulin and

Wilhelm Stennhammer[100] of Sweden; up to the present moment,

however, none have proved worthy to be ranked with the greatest of

Scandinavian composers--Grieg.

[Footnote 98: Enna's recently composed opera "Aglaia" has yet to

await the favorable verdict of the general public. Taking into

consideration the kindly and patriotic disposition of his own

countrymen toward all serious artistic efforts on the part of their

native composers, it is reasonable to predict that "Aglaia" will

eventually receive the same cordial reception as its predecessors,

at least in so far as the Danish audience is concerned. (During the

past year the present writer has had repeated opportunity to note

the attentive attitude of the public in the Danish capital toward

aspiring home talent,--a national trait of such exceptional virtue

that it cannot be sufficiently commented upon.)]

[Footnote 99: This would appear to be a fitting place for mention of

the Finnish composer, Sibelius (1865), who has, during the immediate

past few years, added a new name to the list of modern Northern

writers for the orchestra, besides being distinctly the first

composer of Finland to acquire international reputation.]

[Footnote 100: In the fall of 1905, Stennhammer's opera "Das Fest

auf Solhaug" was heard for the first time at the Royal Opera House

in Berlin. A condensed version of Ibsen's drama constitutes the

libretto. From the very beginning of the introduction to the final

note of the last act the listener is primarily impressed by and

almost solely interested in the limpid pureness and delicacy, the

masterly finish of detail both inner and outer, and the sensitive

appreciation for the suppression of dynamic excess as revealed in its

_orchestration_. But the immaturity in the literary form and style of

this earlier conception of Ibsen precludes the possibility of more

than momentary interest for Stennhammer's opera, unless, perhaps,

within the confines of Scandinavian shores.]

VI.

=Russia.= Among the phenomena of the nineteenth century must be

reckoned the wonderful artistic evolutions in Russia and in America.

Of the two countries, Russia has thus far forged ahead by reason of

her indigenous melodic wealth, whereas America has no similar source

to draw from. Again, the melancholy and semi-barbaric coloring of

Russian folk-tunes appeals more readily to the world at large than

do the assuredly more healthy though somewhat eclectic offerings of

the young American school. None the less, the artistic future of the

latter country is to be regarded in the most optimistic light, and

this certainly will be subsequently enlarged upon under its proper

heading.

Russian folk-songs embody certain characteristics that are likewise

at the root of Scandinavian folk-songs. In their natural and

unadorned state they suggest the rhythmic freedom of Scandinavia,

and their dance forms are similarly wild and irresistible. Further

characteristics that are more distinctly Russian consist of odd

modulations, of plaintive minor cadences, of harmonies resolving

abruptly into the unison, and of the frequent recurrence of a

principal theme alternating with various reiterated phrases. A

possible reminiscence of the Lydian and Dorian modes of ancient

Greece might also be suggested. This is the basis upon which an

epoch-making school of highly-seasoned dramatic and orchestral music

has been reared.

Cultivated Russian music may be properly divided into three

distinctive groups. First came the old lyric-school of Glinka,

Dargomizski and Seroff, followed by the neo-Russian school which

includes Dargomizski in his maturity, together with Borodin, Cesar

Cui, Balakireff, Mussorgski, Rimski-Korsakoff, and their associates.

A third classification is required for Rubinstein and Tschaikowsky

in consequence of their less national than cosmopolitan attributes.

It is by no means intended to convey the idea that Tschaikowsky was

not intensely Russian, but his broad education and his intellectual

classicism distinguish him from his compatriots. Rubinstein, on the

other hand, was more a Teutonic classical-romanticist than a Slavonic

composer. This exposition will therefore first treat of the typically

native composers, leaving Rubinstein and the unrivalled Tschaikowsky

for the end.

VII.

GLINKA (1803-1857) accomplished for his country what Smetana

and Gade did for theirs. A further unique comparison can be made in

that the labors of these three men in each case paved the way for

subsequent herculean development in the hands of one conspicuous

successor of even greater talent--respectively Dvo[vr]ák, Grieg,

Tschaikowsky. Although Glinka, like Gade, devoted himself to the

propagation of national melodies, it is the local coloring rather

than subject-matter that gives his music a character of its own. In

this he again resembles Gade. His very first opera "Life for the

Czar" proved a triumphant success, and, together with its successor

"Ruslan and Ludmilla," gave Glinka the right to be called the first

great opera composer of Russia. His music may not be especially

dramatic, but is significant for having elevated and perpetuated

popular airs, which are clothed in rich harmonies and surrounded by a

distinctly Russian atmosphere. The orchestration calls for but little

comment excepting that it is clever and at times even brilliant.

Glinka's position in musical history has been accurately described

by Riemann when he says: "Glinka is the Berlioz of the Russians,

the man who attempted something new with definite meaning; but to

his countrymen he is still more, namely, the creator of a national

musical tendency striving toward independence."

Dargomizski (1813), second representative of the old lyric-school

and eventually a convert to the new Russian movement, stands as

a noteworthy example for gradual artistic expansion. Clinging at

first to the forms prevalent in France and in Italy, he gradually

came to attach greater importance to _recitative_, and finally went

even too far. This extreme as to absence of melody as well as of

structural form reached its culmination in his posthumous opera "The

Marble Guest," which has since been most effectively orchestrated by

Rimski-Korsakoff. The work is advanced both in thought and treatment,

and may be regarded as the initiatory modern Russian opera. Two

of Dargomizski's minor orchestral compositions, the "Finnish

Fantasia" and the "Cossack Dance," acquired considerable popularity.

Dargomizski is particularly to be commended for his attitude as

a patron of the young Russian enthusiasts whose tendencies were

inclined toward Berlioz, Schumann, Liszt and Wagner.

Serow (1820)--usually spelt Seroff in the English language--belongs

properly to the earlier school, although he was a zealous disciple of

Wagner, and, like him, prepared his own librettos. The style of his

music is such as to carry us almost imperceptibly across the short

bridge joining the first and second groups of Russian composers.

VIII.

As just stated, the second group of young composers found a champion

in their senior, Dargomizski. The tenets of the "New Russian

Movement" are closely allied to those of the "New German Movement."

The programmatic and philosophical theories of Berlioz and Liszt

applied to the dramatic orchestra, and the unreserved adaptation

of Wagner's speech-singing and instrumentation form the basis for

their creed. On the other hand, they demand that all "program-music"

shall be of such intrinsic merit as to withstand the test of being

deprived of its program. Prominent among these innovators was

Borodin (1834). His originality displayed itself conspicuously in

independent orchestral music as exemplified by his two symphonies.

The style is attractive and polished, whereas a wealth of orchestral

effects and instrumental tone-color is at his command. Further

proof of his fertility is revealed in the opera "Fürst Igor," in

the symphonic poem "Mittelasien," and in his chamber music. Cesar

Cui (1835) holds a position of prominence only secondary to that

of Rubinstein and Tschaikowsky. He was an ardent literary advocate

for Berlioz, Schumann and Liszt, whereas his vocal writing is in

reality the exposition of a style akin to the requirements of French

prosody. Balakireff (1836) and Mussorgski (1839) also belong to this

second group of Russian composers. The former has been called the

direct successor of Glinka. The compositions of the latter display

daring originality and a gift for charming melody, although the

harmonization is not always skilful. Nevertheless, both these men

are outranked by Rimski-Korsakoff (1844), whose eminence is fully

equal to that of Borodin and Cesar Cui. His works include several

remarkable symphonies, three operas, chamber music and salon pieces.

Special attention should be called to the program-symphony "Antar"

and to a legend for orchestra, "Sadko." One of the youngest exponents

of combined melodic and declamatory styles is Arensky (1862), and

the interest recently excited by the third symphony in C minor of

Glazounoff (1865) entitles him also to recognition under this heading.

This discussion may evoke the criticism that thus far too little

has been said about orchestration proper and nothing whatever about

the details of instrumentation. As to this, however, it must be

remembered that modern Russian orchestration owes its fundamental

characteristics to only one man--Tschaikowsky; consequently, the

examination of these characteristics has been reserved for discussion

in connection with _his_ titanic achievements. All contemporary and

sequent orchestral treatment in the hands of his countrymen is but

the reflection of Tschaikowsky's style combined with the further

progressive methods of German and French orchestration. It is the

indirect influence these other composers have exercised upon the art

of orchestration rather than their actual instrumentation that has

needed elucidation.

IX.

For convenience, Rubinstein and Tschaikowsky have been classed

together as representing a third group of Russian composers.

Theoretically they possess nothing in common other than their

cosmopolitan proclivities.

RUBINSTEIN (1830-1894), regarded in the light of a

Russian composer, cannot be compared with Glinka as an operatic

writer or with Tschaikowsky as an orchestrator. Regarded as a

classical-romanticist, he must be included in the list of composers

following traditional forms. What is more, he was an extremist in

his antagonism to the innovations of the New German Movement. This

hostility exerted a baneful influence upon his instrumentation. His

intentions were high, but the results of uneven value. His music

reveals a search after fulness of contents, passionate strength, and

a certain predilection for the peculiar. Euphony and rounded form

are less pronounced, though occasional evidence of delicacy and even

of tenderness is not lacking. Rubinstein cannot be eulogized as a

dramatic writer, although "Feramors" is a pleasing lyric opera, and

the Biblical stage-play "Sulamith" presents a poetic idyl imbued

with Eastern color. Interesting is the embodiment of seven movements

in the "Ocean Symphony," a work that holds high rank in musical

literature. In string writing, Rubinstein revealed fine appreciation

of tone-color. The instruments are handled with rare skill and

that quite especially in his chamber music. But in spite of a not

infrequent display of superb power, his orchestration, on the whole,

was hampered by the narrow prejudice which limited his horizon.

The history of Slavonic music up to the present day will

be concluded with the following brief remarks concerning

TSCHAIKOWSKY[101] (1840-1893). Though he is mentioned last,

one must not forget that his activity covers the same period as that

of the originators of the neo-Russian school.

[Footnote 101: See Appendix of Musical Illustrations, Examples 83 to

89.]

The composite of his high-strung and intensely æsthetic nature may

be summed up by saying that at heart he was in sympathy with Liszt;

his structural form rests upon the intellectuality of classicism; his

conceptions emanated from Muscovite melodies but are stamped with the

insignia of genius all his own; his style is essentially lyrical,

and betrays the delicacy and refinement of a cultured Russian. What

is more, there are momentary suggestions even of coyness that are

again strikingly contrasted by a certain barbaric element worthy of a

barely-civilized Cossack.

The peculiar fascination exerted by his music may be traced first

and foremost to its dominating melancholy character, although this

plaintive strain is again set off by a certain vigor, which Henderson

calls "the outcome of a certain grim determination always present

in the Russian heart." It has also been described by Dannreuther as

"fiery exultation on a basis of languid melancholy." The means which

Tschaikowsky found to express himself in a language of profound

pathos embodied the free use of sombre chromatic harmony, of minor

modes, and above all of weird and gloomy orchestration.[102] The

general outlines of Tschaikowsky's music embrace melodic subtleties,

bold modulations, florid figuration, strongly marked rhythm and

cadences peculiar to his own land, huge dimensions, fantastic

portrayal, broad dignity of utterance, and magnificent orchestral

effects. The embodiment of native folk-music in no way interferes

with his own intense originality and genuine spontaneity.

[Footnote 102: Ex. 83, 86, 89.]

One of the most astounding features in Tschaikowsky's scoring is the

extreme modern effect secured from virtually the same orchestra of

moderate size that Beethoven employed. To the uninitiated auditor,

the wealth and variety of tone-color produced would appear to require

a mighty aggregation of instruments; but the "Symphonie pathétique,"

for example, makes requisition for no more instruments than those

used in Beethoven's grandest symphonies, excepting the addition of a

bass-tuba.[103] As for an increased number of strings, the increase

remains in force for modern performances of the classics as well.

In regard to obtaining what has been called "a gloomy eloquence of

instrumentation," this is effected by drawing upon the deeper accents

of the orchestra.[104] Tschaikowsky employed such combinations as

horns and bassoons alone; English horn, bassoons and violas; the

lower tones of flutes and clarinets also accompanied by violas; the

unison of English horn with low strings as in the _cantabile_ of the

overture-fantasy, "Hamlet,"--a combination to which Henderson calls

attention in his admirable little book on the orchestra. (This work,

by the way, is skilfully written for the delectation of cultivated

amateurs.) Other important contributors to Tschaikowsky's subdued

coloring are the clarinets in their lower range and the bassoons in

their upper range.[105] The best exemplification of orchestration

essentially mournful in character is discovered in his last great

work--the "Symphonie pathétique" already referred to. On the other

hand, a magnificent specimen of forceful writing is presented in the

final movement of particularly the C major symphony.

[Footnote 103: Ex. 85.]

[Footnote 104: Ex. 84, 88.]

[Footnote 105: Ex. 87.]

Recent development in Russia of orchestral resources is bearing

delectable fruit; but without Tschaikowsky to point the way, this

would not have been possible. He still reigns supreme as the

greatest interpreter of Slavonic ideals. Tschaikowsky in Greater

Russia, Grieg in Scandinavia, Dvo[vr]ák in Bohemia, Saint-Saëns in

France, Wagner and Richard Strauss in Germany,--these are the men

of the nineteenth century who have caused the art of orchestration

to acquire distinctively national characteristics suited to the

needs of differentiated national music. In return, composers of

all countries are seizing upon every possible device introduced by

these innovators, and the twentieth century gives promise of results

cosmopolitan in nature and superb beyond description.

ENGLAND AND AMERICA.

X.

=England.= Although the recent growth of Russian music is of

vast significance, neither have the Anglo-Saxons been idle. England

can also point to a long series of sterling composers belonging to

the nineteenth century. Among the representative musicians who have

helped to develop a native style of composition and orchestration

should be mentioned Balfe, Macfarren, Bennett, Barnby, Sullivan,

Bridge, Mackenzie, Parry, Cowen, Stanford.

At the head of this sturdy list stands Balfe (1808), whose continuous

application to operatic forms presents an exception to the more

varied labors of most English composers. Neither the substance-matter

nor the instrumentation of his works merits the distinction of

having furthered the cause of indigenous English music. The style

is essentially Italian. Balfe possessed fluency of expression and

displayed aptitude for pleasing melody. Depth and power were not

among his attributes.

An entirely different atmosphere pervades the numerous productions

of Sir George Macfarren (1813). This eminent pioneer of nineteenth

century English music had the honor of being born in the same

year with Wagner. The cosmopolitan range of his compositions is

noteworthy, and his tireless activity in the face of an affliction

that eventually ended in entire blindness entitles him to unstinted

praise. His works are among the most important contributions to the

literature of English music, covering as they do every branch of

music from opera, oratorio and cantata to symphony, chamber music and

sacred pieces.

The reader will remember that on page 77 of Chapter IX, particular

mention was made of Sterndale Bennett (1816), in view of his

association with Mendelssohn and Schumann. The pith of the remarks

embodied in that paragraph will, however, bear repetition, owing to

the significance attached to Bennett's influence upon modern English

music. The acknowledged heir of Purcell, he clothed his individuality

in the language promulgated by the early Romanticists; but though his

works bear the undeniable impress of Mendelssohnian characteristics,

they are none the less original and of enduring worth. His field

of activity as a composer was extensive. Outside of England, his

oratorio "The Woman of Samaria" is, perhaps, the best known of his

various choral works, symphonies and concertos. The high regard in

which he is held by his countrymen reveals itself in his title of

"Founder of a New English School."

To mention Barnby (1838) in these pages may appear somewhat out

of place. Sacred music is the line in which he particularly

distinguished himself. In addition to writing magnificent hymns and

anthems, he developed his best gifts in such works as his psalm

"The Lord is King." Nevertheless, it will be noticed that from a

chronological standpoint Barnby heads the list of the more recent

English exponents of progressive ideas, and his advanced convictions

entitle him to recognition in this discussion if for no other reason

than for his zeal and perseverance in having given in London two

concert performances of "Parsifal" as early as in 1884. The date of

this achievement is significant when one considers that the initial

dramatic performance of "Parsifal" at Bayreuth had taken place but

two years before.

The most widely known English composer of the nineteenth century is,

of course, Sullivan (1842). This renown has been won by virtue of a

unique talent for writing comic operas that are gems of the first

water. On the other hand, Sullivan has again and again revealed his

latent powers for composition in serious vein. Had he elected to

consecrate himself to the nobler form of art, he might have become

the greatest of all English composers. As it is, he has done much

for the cause of Anglicized music and especially of Anglicized

orchestration. The author of no less than fifteen operettas that are

famed in England, America, and to a lesser degree in Continental

Europe, he has clothed these works in charming orchestral garment.

The instrumental combinations at his command were small, but he was

never at loss how to use them to best advantage. It was his peculiar

custom to postpone the orchestral scoring until all modifications as

suggested by preliminary rehearsals had been decided upon. Taking the

"Mikado" as a favorable example, it is seen that the local coloring

demanded by the setting depends chiefly upon the orchestra. The

quaint opening chorus for men at the very beginning of the operetta

proves the truth of this statement. Sullivan based his methods of

instrumentation upon those of Mozart, but occasionally copied Gounod

and even Berlioz. When, however, Sullivan employs larger orchestral

forces, his musicianship, dramatic power and command of resource

seem to expand in proportion. Notable illustrations of original and

effective scoring are to be found in his representative oratorios and

above all in his grand opera "Ivanhoe."

John Bridge (1844) displays sound scholarship in a respectable list

of sacred music, cantatas and orchestral works, but his attainments

cannot be compared with those of Mackenzie (1847). The latter is

first and foremost an orchestral writer, in fact one might say that

his conceptions are wholly orchestral. His is the realm of realism

rather than of idealism. His style reveals no great depth or pathos.

There is a mixture of Mendelssohnian and Wagnerian externals.

His melody has been styled angular; his harmonic structure is

inefficient, and his rhythm monotonous. Mackenzie's orchestration,

however, is unusual. Its many excellences afford a striking contrast

to the mediocrity of subject-matter. It is powerful and effective,

allowing also commendable freedom to the wood-wind. Some interesting

passages for flute and oboe in combination with low clarinet arpeggio

effects are contained in the cantata "The Story of Sayid." Among

Mackenzie's most notable achievements should be mentioned two operas,

two Scotch rhapsodies, and his magnum opus, a dramatic oratorio

entitled "The Rose of Sharon."

There is a double interest in examining the musical compositions of

Charles Hubert Parry (1848) in consequence of his having enriched the

world with a scholarly and broad-minded work entitled "The Evolution

of the Art of Music." This standard book has been quoted from more

than once in the course of these pages. Parry has tried his hand at

all forms of composition, including chamber music, symphonies and

oratorios. There is a natural hesitation to pass individual judgment

on these works, so the criticism of two contemporary Englishmen

will be referred to instead. These two are Willeby and Stanford. In

general terms, Willeby speaks of Parry as a man of wide experience

and absolute sincerity, and as one "devoted to liberation." He

then goes on to say that Parry's works show traces of Beethoven,

especially of Brahms, somewhat of Händel and Mendelssohn, whereas his

earlier "Prometheus Unbound" is conceived in the "Tristan" style;

but the "human" element is lacking. The most complex methods are

employed to attain the desired results. The obvious avoidance of

natural cadences is carried to an extreme. The melodies are stately

and self-possessed but become monotonous. So much for Parry's style.

As to his orchestration, the opinion of Dr. Stanford is presumably

authoritative and is appended _verbatim_: "His orchestral sense is by

no means his most highly developed sense, for while there is no lack

of sonority in his scoring, there is not infrequently all too little

of 'fancy.' What leanings he has in this art are certainly more

toward Wagner than Berlioz, and sometimes the incongruity of Wagner

in the orchestra and Brahms in the music is by no means compensated

for by what there is of Parry in both."[106]

[Footnote 106: A. Goring Thomas (1851) should, chronologically, be

referred to at this point in view of the present continued popularity

and frequent performance in the United States of his cantata "The

Swan and the Skylark," even though the work is said to have been

orchestrated by Stanford. On the other hand, more pronounced

independence is evidenced in such of Thomas' representative works

as the opera "Esmeralda" and the choral ode "The Sun Worshippers."

The general substance of his compositions displays delicacy and

refinement in orchestration and the possession of a real melodic

gift.]

Cowen (1852) stands as one of the representative English exponents

of both absolute and programmatic symphonic writing. Of his five

characteristic symphonies, special reference is due to the

"Scandinavian," No. 3, the "Welsh," No. 4, and the one in F, No. 5.

The fact that this later symphony, No. 5, contains no programmatic

idea, leads to some conjecture as to what Cowen's motive was in

returning to the conservatism of pure and abstract music. This work

embodies considerable depth of sentiment, sombre orchestral coloring,

and a possible touch of Chopin. Cowen has written several operas, but

special significance is attached to his choral work "The Sleeping

Beauty," in that it incorporates Wagner's principle of representative

themes together with their skilful thematic development. The

orchestra plays an exceedingly important rôle, even to the occasional

detriment of the vocal parts.

Having listened to what Stanford had to say about Parry, let us

see what Stanford's music has to say for its author. Here again

one discovers the accomplished scholar rather than the artistic

dreamer. Stanford (1852) has proved himself an eminent conductor

and professor, but as composer, his emotional capacity is evidently

limited, and his music lacks the very essentials of ideal love and

impassioned sentiment so conspicuous, for example, in Félicien

David's ardent conceptions. Compare the glowing colors in David's

"Lalla Rookh" with those in Stanford's opera "The Veiled Prophet

of Khorassan." The latter does, indeed, suggest "local" color, but

there is no evidence of sensuous Eastern charm. Stanford's right

to share with Cowen the rank of representative English symphonist

is undisputed. His fertile pen has produced an honorable series

of orchestral works that include a festival overture and four

symphonies. Prominent among these is the "Irish Symphony," which

again reveals a striving after characteristic portrayal. Willeby

also makes reference to this in the following terms: "Here, for the

obtainment of local color, he has called to his aid all kinds of

melodies and 'modes.' The 'Aeolian' mode transposed, which consists

of the scale having its semitonic intervals between the second and

third, and fifth and sixth degrees, and the 'Mixolydian,' with

its semitones between the third and fourth, and sixth and seventh

degrees, are both extensively used."[107]

[Footnote 107: The favorable comment excited a few years ago by the

cantata "Hiawatha" by S. Coleridge-Taylor (1875) has proved to be of

more than passing endurance. Mention of his activity, which includes

also such works as an operetta, "Dream Lovers," is therefore in

place. Coleridge-Taylor is the first composer of African descent to

command serious recognition.]

* * * * *

During the last few years a new star has risen on the British

horizon, one that promises to become a permanency,--Edward Elgar

(1851). His talent is conspicuous, and he is fast winning his way

through sheer merit. Henderson goes so far as to write of him as

"the most promising of modern composers," though this is a matter of

opinion. At all events, Elgar stands out in marked contrast to his

more self-restrained countrymen in that he dares to break through the

barriers of British good form by employing a language of emotional

eloquence and dramatic intensity. His handling of vocal forces does

not by any means discard the time-honored doctrines of Bach and

Händel so tenaciously adhered to in England, but he combines classic

polyphony with modern expedients of unfettered chromatic harmony

and throbbing orchestration. His "Dream of Gerontius" and his "The

Apostles" should convince his compatriots that heretofore they have

been content to compose in a manner all too sedate and unemotional.

Bennett founded a "new school" of English music in the early part

of the nineteenth century. It may be that the time has now come

for a second "new school" which shall meet the requirements of the

twentieth century.[108]

[Footnote 108: Elgar's "The Apostles" is the general title of a cycle

of four works for voices and orchestra, of which Part II, named "The

Kingdom," was completed and performed since the above was written.

"The Kingdom" further discloses the remarkable individuality of

Elgar's style, which in turn bespeaks the exalted spiritual nature of

the man.

Each successive work that emanates from Elgar's pen emphasizes his

monumental command of polyphonic structure in its largest dimensions,

clothed meanwhile in the most realistic of orchestral garments. It

would be going too far to aver that Elgar approaches Richard Strauss

as an orchestrator; on the other hand, it will hardly be questioned

that there are three prominently conspicuous composers of the present

day who, having put themselves in close touch with the ideals of

Richard Wagner and agreeing to a more or less degree with the tenets

of Richard Strauss, stand forth as the recognized vancouriers in

their respective countries for the most advanced phase of orchestral

art:--Elgar, Debussy, MacDowell.]

AMERICA.

XI.

In undertaking to set forth the present conditions of American

musical art it is realized that little can be said beyond that

with which professional American musicians are already perfectly

familiar. But the future of indigenous American music gives

promise of a significance so wide that the reader will concede the

indispensability of embodying in this book at least a bird's-eye

view of an evolution that is destined to lead to glorious results.

Moreover, to refrain from repeating well-known facts for fear of

presenting trite material would indeed appear as an inexcusable and

glaring omission should these pages ever come into the hands of a

foreigner.

In order to cover the entire ground, it would be necessary to touch

upon the rather doubtful experiments of our forefathers during

the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries:--to examine into the

tardy emancipation of religious music from the dogmatic fetters of

Puritanism, to follow the gradual development of American hymn-tunes,

and to ferret out the initial encroachments of beneficent Teutonic

influence. Such preliminaries may here be dispensed with. America

has no native folk-tunes. The experiments of our illustrious guest,

Dvo[vr]ák, to adapt so-called negro melodies as the basis for

future operation are certainly masterly,--nevertheless illogical.

MacDowell's poetic "Indian Suite" draws upon still another source

for the same purpose. Racial characteristics and local coloring

are indeed suggested,--but the desired objective is not attained.

Of similar purport are the exhaustive researches of Farwell. His

deductions are intensely interesting, frequently picturesque,--but

again prove that the primitive tunes of the American Indian do not

meet the requirements for a national form of melody. It is evident,

therefore, that American composers are obliged to rely upon their

own individual efforts. What is more, no marked individuality

displayed itself before the nineteenth century. Anyone desiring

detailed information pertaining to the infancy of American music may

be referred to Ritter's book on that subject as well as to Louis C.

Elson's "History of American Music." Furthermore, since the main

theme of this discussion is orchestration, it will not be possible

to more than touch upon the sterling achievements of the already

large list of nineteenth and twentieth century composers who are so

worthily furthering the artistic cause of their country. Detailed

biographies of these men are also to be found in Elson's work as well

as in Rupert Hughes' "Contemporary American Composers."

During the nineteenth century America produced no less than some

hundred native born composers, conductors, performers and pedagogues

who are worthy of unstinted praise and enduring recognition. It is,

however, an extremely difficult matter to single out those who may be

looked upon as America's representative writers for the orchestra.

At the present moment one might suggest the names of six men who

have been exceptionally fortunate in being granted the opportunity

of showing the world what they can do. These fortunate ones are

Paine, Buck, Foote, Chadwick, MacDowell, Parker, of whom no less

than four are claimed by New England. The word "fortunate" is used

advisedly, for without detracting in the least from the hard-earned

and well-merited laurels of these conspicuously successful composers,

many another American could be pointed to who even now is worthy

of being classed in the first rank and who would undoubtedly rise

to epoch-making greatness were the _opportunity_ but granted him.

Selecting a few names merely at random, the present writer has

had occasion to peruse the orchestral pages of such men as Father

Bonvin (a Jesuit priest of Canesius College, Buffalo, N.Y.) and

Professor Leo R. Lewis of Tufts College,--the breadth and power

of whose scoring would command wide-spread admiration were the

authors natives and residents of Continental Europe. Further proof

of native independence and strength is revealed in the deplorably

rare opportunities of listening to the orchestral works of our

younger aspirants such as F. Converse, H.H. Huss, H.K. Hadley, Rubin

Goldmark, not to mention the scholarly productions of the older

and reputed leaders of the country such as Gilchrist, F.G. Gleason,

Foerster, Beck, E.S. Kelley, Schoenefeld, Zeck.

No country in the world makes such unreasonable demands upon the

range of professional capacity as does America when begrudgingly

bestowing her patronage upon her musicians. To be an "all-round"

musician one is supposed to be a proficient organ and pianoforte

player, a vocal teacher, a trainer of boy choirs, of solo quartets,

of denominational church choir singing, and a choral as well as

an orchestral conductor; one is supposed to be familiar with all

matters pertaining to church services, to have some knowledge

of orchestral stringed instruments, to be versed in subtleties

theoretical and pedagogical, to have business executive ability,

and to be--incidentally--a composer! It is therefore not easy to

classify our contemporary musicians into distinctive branches of

activity. John Knowles Paine, for example, is first and foremost the

pioneer of America's great composers. On the other hand, were he to

be deprived of this tribute, there would still remain divers possible

classifications under the headings of organist, of pioneer educator,

of theorist, lecturer, and teacher. Consequently, the following group

must, like that of the French composers in Chapter XII, be accepted

with considerable reserve; for, as in that chapter, the different

composers are but arbitrarily classified under the particular

branch in which they would appear to have excelled. It is also to

be understood that where no statement to the contrary is made, the

composer under discussion is a native born American.

XII.

(1) =Pioneers and Promoters.= Prominent among our indefatigable

workers of the nineteenth century born prior to 1850 are: Lowell

Mason, Bristow, Dr. William Mason, Gottschalk, C.C. Converse, Dr. L.

Damrosch, Paine, B.J. Lang, Emery.

Lowell Mason (1792-1872) was for many years the president of the

Händel and Haydn Society of Boston, where he founded an academy of

music, and displayed untiring activity in initiating conferences of

music teachers and in the cause of American musical art in general.

Bristow (1825) deserves mention not only for his activity as a

pianist, teacher, and conductor, but also for his ambitions as a

composer in large forms. These works include two symphonies, two

oratorios "Daniel" and "St. John," and an opera "Rip van Winkle." Dr.

William Mason (1829) proved himself worthy of the heritage entrusted

to him by his father, Lowell Mason, and is looked upon as one of the

chief factors in the evolution of American music. His compositions,

though clever, are conservative and somewhat pedantic, but his

influence as an educator cannot be overestimated. Gottschalk (1829)

devoted his exceptional talents as a concert pianist largely to the

dissemination of his own salon music, which is brilliant though

sentimental, being, moreover, unquestionably dominated by Spanish

characteristics. Converse (1832) is recognized as a typical American

and has won esteem as the author of a large number of hymn-tunes. Dr.

Leopold Damrosch (1832) was among the earlier Germans who adopted

the United States as their home. He left his indelible impress upon

the artistic life of New York City and bequeathed the fruits of his

labors to his sons, Walter and Frank, who have piously preserved and

extended them. Paine and B.J. Lang are mentioned in this connection

by virtue of their indomitable perseverance in behalf of improved

musical conditions in the earlier period of their respective careers

when the general attitude of the American public toward true musical

art was even worse than it is at present. Emery (1841) owed his

reputation originally to his talents as a pianist, but his primer

of harmony has since made his name a familiar one in almost every

household.

This list may rightfully include the name of a more recent benefactor

of native composition--the pianist, Sherwood (1854), who was one of

the first to insist that the American public should become acquainted

with the slighted creative talents of her artistic sons. He put this

noble resolve to practical test by devoting large portions of his

programs to the compositions of his compatriots, and was able to

command the attention and respect of his audiences not alone by his

sterling technique and refined interpretation but by his charming

personality as well.

Many other names such as Carl Zerrahn and Theodore Thomas could be

added here. They have, however, been classified under their more

pronounced specialities.

(2) =Master of Orchestration.=

PAINE (1839). As Hughes fitly expresses it, Paine is the

venerable dean of America's truly great composers. Dr. Riemann also

is not far wrong when he declares that Paine's earlier works breathe

a classical, the latter ones a romantic spirit. This unwearying

composer is at his best in large forms--indeed, his supreme devotion

to large undertakings has left him little time for smaller works. His

artistic career displays a steady growth not unlike that of Wagner

or Verdi. Grounded in the conservative principles of sound Germanic

classicism, as revealed in his powerful and dramatic oratorio "St.

Peter," he has pressed onward through various stages of legitimate

program music, represented by such works as the "Spring Symphony,"

the symphonic poem "The Tempest," the overture to "As You Like It,"

the setting of Keats' "Realm of Fancy," Milton's "Nativity," and,

most important of all, the "Oedipus Tyrannos of Sophokles." Having

reached the height of his power in these lines, Paine advanced yet

further and concentrated his energies upon not only the music but

the libretto as well of a dramatic conception that should head the

list of a genuine American school of opera. The recent completion

of "Azara," with its dramatic continuity, irresistible climaxes,

dignity and beauty of musical contents, consistent and effective

orchestration, is of epoch-making significance. The exasperating

obstacles placed in the way of its performance both here and abroad

are, alas, too well known to require additional comment. Until a

production of this work shall have been an accomplished fact, our

country justly merits the existing condemnation of foreign musicians

who declare that America has not the slightest conception of her

duties either to her artistic development or to her native composers

who have sacrificed the best years of their lives in the hope of

stimulating that development. Not without justice do the Germans

declare that the American public at large possess no artistic

instincts whatever, since they force their native composers to turn

to foreign lands for encouragement.[109]

[Footnote 109: John Knowles Paine died in Cambridge, Massachusetts,

on April 25, 1906. He did not live to hear a complete performance of

his opera, although after his death a concert rendition of most of

the music was given as a memorial in Boston under the direction of

B.J. Lang.]

BUCK (1839) is conspicuously identified with the evolution

of American church music. As a composer he is at his best in

religious composition in smaller forms. On the other hand, his

important contributions to the branch of larger choral works with

orchestral accompaniment must not be overlooked. His scenes from

Longfellow's "Golden Legend" were deemed worthy of winning one of the

coveted prizes at Cincinnati. The cantata for male chorus "Columbus"

displays masterly command in the deployment of men's voices, whereas

the "Light of Asia" is one of the standard works of America. Buck

has rather neglected the field of purely orchestral music, but the

scoring of his choral compositions reveals the firm hand of a master.

FOOTE (1853). Turning to a younger generation who have

sturdily maintained the high standard set before them, one naturally

recalls the name of one who may perhaps be regarded as the most

satisfactory exponent of the efficiency of two American teachers,

Paine and Lang, the most significant representative of an exceptional

class of musician--the native trained composer, Arthur Foote. It

is generally conceded that Foote is possessed of unusual powers in

writing for men's voices. Widely known is his "Skeleton in Armor"

with its forceful utterance, as well as his poetic setting of "The

Farewell of Hiawatha." Again, in the field of song lyrics he has

endeared himself to the worthy army of singers by virtue of a notable

series of exceptional and widely contrasted productions. His true

strength would, however, appear to reveal itself in the noblest

vehicles of musical thought--the quartet and the orchestra. Foote

does not aim to produce sensational effects, in fact his orchestral

canvas has, on the whole, a grayish hue. The seriousness of his

purpose, the serenity of his ideals, and the unmistakable impress

of a cultured University training are faithfully reproduced in the

nobility, the breadth, and the sober though appropriate coloring of

his artistic conceptions. The present writer is inclined to regard

him as the Brahms of this country.

CHADWICK (1854). In contrast to Foote's domestic education,

Chadwick stands among the first of that memorable list of students

who served a rigorous apprenticeship under Rheinberger in Munich, and

thereby helped to perpetuate his name in America. A mighty throng

followed in Chadwick's footsteps, among whom were the composers

Parker, Huss, Bullard, Atherton; the educators Lewis and Spalding;

the organists and teachers John White, Howland, and Bertram Henry.

Not only did Chadwick with one stroke make his individuality felt

upon returning to his native land,--an individuality that has since

been strengthened rather than lessened,--but his appointment to the

directorship of the New England Conservatory of Music was a choice so

opportune that that institution has since been raised to a standard

of excellence it never before had enjoyed, and is becoming one of

the recognized arbiters in the musical affairs of the country. Like

Foote, Chadwick has tried his hand in divers fields of composition,

being particularly successful in writing part-songs as well as songs

with pianoforte accompaniment. Large choral works have, however,

also claimed his attention, and are represented by his cantata "The

Pilgrims," and again by "The Viking's Last Voyage" for barytone solo,

male chorus and orchestra. It appears to be the fortune of American

composers to become known primarily by their vocal compositions. This

is also true of Chadwick. Nevertheless, he has given expression to

his loftiest inspiration in a series of chamber and orchestral pieces

that stamp him as a keen judge of those essentials required for large

instrumental works. His form, though conservative, is well rounded.

His orchestration is chaste and refined rather than sensational and

glowing. His music is above all manly and energetic. Personally,

Chadwick may not regard his operetta "Tabasco" with all too favorable

eyes; yet the step taken was assuredly in the right direction. It is

to be regretted that our contemporary American composers seem unable

to take a firm stand in imperceptibly educating the public with a

light yet artistic _genre_ of music such as characterizes Chadwick's

"Tabasco" or the earlier operettas of Victor Herbert and de Koven.

MACDOWELL (1861). In venturing the assertion that MacDowell

stands apart on his exalted pinnacle of fame, there is not the

slightest danger of incurring disparaging comparisons between him

and his eminent contemporaries who have been classified under this

heading. Paine's monumental achievements are unassailable. Buck

occupies an honorable position as one of the foremost of our writers

of church music. Foote and Chadwick have each of them established

their respective individuality as composers of exceptional ability.

Parker holds undisputed sway in his particular domain. What separates

MacDowell from his colleagues is the difference between his

perspective and theirs. His conceptions betray certain tendencies

that are foreign to their Anglo-Saxon ruggedness with its Teutonic

substructure. MacDowell's Scotch ancestry, his intimacy with Raff,

his contact with the artistic life of Paris,--all these circumstances

helped to mould his exceptional genius into a form distinctly

original and unique. It is natural that the influence of his

teacher, Raff, should predominate. But whereas Raff's programmatic

expositions deal in the romance of enchantment, of the supernatural,

of the fantastic, MacDowell pins his faith to the romance of poetic

imagination symbolic of emotional realities. Lawrence Gilman, in a

persuasive essay on MacDowell, eulogizes, together with other works,

his symphonic poems "Hamlet and Ophelia," "Lancelot and Elaine," "The

Saracens" and "Lovely Alda" as "the works of a master of imaginative

expression, a penetrative psychologist, above all, an exquisite

poet." The same writer further remarks that "MacDowell has chosen

occasionally to employ, in the realization of his purposes, what

seems at first to be precisely the magical apparatus so necessary

to the older romanticism. Dryads and elves inhabit his world, and

he dwells at times under faery boughs and in enchanted woods; but

for him, as for the poets of the Celtic tradition, these things are

but the manifest images of an interior passion and delight. Seen in

the transfiguring mirror of his music, the moods and events of the

natural world and of the incessant drama of psychic life are vivified

into shapes and designs of irresistible beauty and appeal. Both in

theory and in practice, MacDowell stands uncompromisingly for music

that is, of intention, persistently pictorial and impressionistic....

It is as much in his choice of subjects as in the peculiar vividness

and felicity of his expression, that he is unique among tone-poets

of the external world." The above citations present a faithful

picture of MacDowell's philosophical reasonings. His chord formation,

harmonic progressions, thematic treatment and structural form are all

in accord with the psychological subtleties to be expressed.

It is particularly in orchestration that MacDowell discloses certain

French characteristics. Many of his pages might have been written

by Saint-Saëns himself, but the "solid" foundation inoculated by

the exacting requirements of his German training is never entirely

absent. As a result, MacDowell's scoring frequently surpasses even

that of his illustrious French contemporary. MacDowell proves

no exception to the rule in that his popularity is due not so

much to his more significant orchestral works as to his smaller

offerings such as his attractive and highly ingenious pieces for the

pianoforte. He has still many years before him, and gives promise of

ever increasing power and versatility. America may well be proud of

him![110]

[Footnote 110: The entire country mourns the premature death of

Edward Alexander MacDowell, which occurred in New York on January 23,

1908.]

PARKER (1863). In several respects Parker's orchestral and

choral style bears some affinity to that of both Foote and Chadwick.

His subject-matter, like theirs, is serious--at times even severe;

his formal structures are conservative; his command of vocal forces

is supreme. Again, his orchestral colors, like theirs, are accused

of being cold and gray,--devoid of scintillating tints and glowing

hues. This may be true to a certain extent. But when one considers

the _genre_ of choral composition to which these three composers

are addicted, it will be readily seen that a radical readjustment

of their orchestral pages in favor of warmer coloring would be

inconsistent with the nature of their oratorical settings. Among the

most conspicuous of Parker's productions are the overtures "Regulus"

and "Count Robert of Paris," the ballad for chorus and orchestra

"King Trojan," and, of course, his masterpiece "Hora Novissima."

Parker shares with MacDowell the good fortune of having already won

enduring recognition in foreign lands,--Parker in England, MacDowell

in France, Germany and Russia. Yale University was one of the first

institutions of this country to follow Harvard's lead in establishing

a chair of music, and showed sound judgment in selecting so eminent a

composer as Parker to occupy that chair.

* * * * *

As already intimated, the country is further represented by a

dignified array of American born composers for the orchestra, who

are working against fearful odds in behalf of improved conditions

for native art. Gilchrist (1846) was, like Arthur Foote, trained

in this country, and is identified with the city of Philadelphia.

His forte is choral and religious music, being, moreover, a

remarkably successful prize winner. His symphonic attempts show sound

scholarship, but are conservative and non-programmatic. The name

of F.G. Gleason (1848) is highly respected in Chicago. His works

display harmonic rather than melodic strength, and were frequently

performed by Theodore Thomas. In Pittsburgh, Adolph Foerster (1854)

has done fine work in both large and small forms. Of unusual interest

are the scores of J.H. Beck (1856) in consequence of their novel

effects and warm coloring. His early success in Germany justified the

hope that he would become widely known, but he seems to have so far

intentionally avoided the publishers. Arthur Bird (1856) cannot be

blamed for preferring to live in the midst of the generous artistic

encouragement of a European city. Of especial merit are his symphony

in A and the ballet "Rübezahl." The representative composer of San

Francisco is Edgar S. Kelley (1857). He was a pupil of Clarence Eddy,

but studied also in Stuttgart. He is essentially a programmatic

writer, possesses considerable originality and humor, orchestrates

with skill and daring, and has been especially successful with his

melodramatic music to "Macbeth." Henry Schoenefeld (1857) was a

pupil of both Reinecke and Lassen, and was identified with Chicago.

His undertakings are worthy of consideration in consequence of

his adaptation and idealization of negro melodies in his Suite for

string-orchestra, op. 15, before Dvo[vr]ák's experiments of similar

nature. Schoenefeld has since written an overture entitled "In the

Sunny South." San Francisco can boast of yet another orchestral

composer of repute--Frederick Zeck Jr., who has written, among other

things, several symphonies, a symphonic poem, and even a romantic

opera.

Frank van der Stucken (1858) cuts a large figure in the evolution

of American music. He is frequently though erroneously regarded as

a German, but he was born in Texas, and studied not only in Leipzig

but under Benoit in Antwerp as well. He first rose to prominence

as director of the Arion Male Chorus Society of New York. In 1885

he instituted a series of "Novelty Concerts" that opened up new

possibilities to America's neglected composers. Since undertaking the

directorship of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra in 1895, van der

Stucken has made himself a national benefactor by encouraging and

repeatedly performing American productions. He is himself a composer

of no mean ability, possesses decidedly modern tendencies, and

orchestrates with unerring certainty. His compositions cover a wide

field and include an opera "Vlasda," a symphonic prologue "William

Ratcliff," and a Suite on Shakespeare's "Tempest."

Walter Damrosch (1862) has acquired the right to be ranked with

America's orchestral composers on account of his grand opera "The

Scarlet Letter," and Reginald de Koven (1859) knows how to enhance

the scores of his comic operas with a lightness of touch and some

clever devices. "Robin Hood" and "The Fencingmaster" are sprightly

and refined even though guilty of occasional plagiarism.

Mrs. Beach is rightfully looked upon as an eminent leader among the

women composers of America and is fully entitled to equal rank with

her fair contemporaries in France, Cécile Chaminade and Augusta

Holmès. Her "Gaelic Symphony" has been performed not only by the

Boston Symphony Orchestra and by Theodore Thomas, but has been

granted numerous performances by other representative organizations

as well. Mrs. Beach's scores are exceedingly elaborate--possibly

too much so. Nevertheless, her command of orchestral resources is

remarkable, and in her Mass in E flat, op. 5, she has obtained

impressive effects, rich colors and dramatic climaxes.

The scores of Bonvin and Lewis have already been referred to. The

former evolves his conceptions by means of the most intricate

polyphony and with an opulence of orchestral effects. Lewis has

branched out into lines distinctly his own. A Brahms background of

grayish orchestration is in evidence, but his rhythm is absolutely

unfettered, his harmonies are bold, and his mastery of thematic

treatment is unusual.

Of the younger composers born after 1860, much may be expected from

F.S. Converse of Harvard,[111] who is in close touch with the

ultra-modern school of composition with all its attending freedom

of form and emancipation from stereotyped pattern, for he has

already excited attention both in this country and in England.[112]

A promising pupil of Rheinberger is Henry Holden Huss, who is

essentially a dramatic and lyric composer. The healthy and above

all optimistic tendencies of Henry K. Hadley's compositions, as

exemplified by his symphony "Youth and Life," stand out in sharp

contrast against the morbidness and pessimism that have apparently

won the upper hand in musical art during the last fifteen years.

Rubin Goldmark was born in New York and is living at present in

that city. He is possessed of a thoroughly artistic nature and has

inherited much of his eminent uncle's originality and ability to

impart luscious tone-colors to his orchestral tableaux.

[Footnote 111: See footnote, page 173.]

[Footnote 112: "The Pipe of Desire," a romantic grand opera in

one act by F.S. Converse, was twice performed in Boston early in

1906, and reveals significant command of the modern technics of

orchestration.]

Before concluding this classification of orchestral composers it is

desired to remind the reader of the vast significance attached to

the labors of Dvo[vr]ák and X. Scharwenka during their sojourn in

the United States. Again, other foreigners who have cast in their

lot with us, such as Loeffler[113] and Victor Herbert, are now

practically regarded as loyal American composers. Both these men are

possessed of sovereign command of orchestration. The one uses his art

for portraying vivid realism, the other for the purpose of clothing

his pleasing conceptions as evolved in daintier vein.

[Footnote 113: The recently performed "Pagan Poem" (op. 14) of

Charles Martin Loeffler (1861) would indicate that a list of the

world's representative masters of modern orchestration made up five

years from now would include his name.]

There are undoubtedly a number of important American composers whose

names have been omitted from these pages. The present writer desires

to apologize for any such unintentional omission under the plea that

it has not been his good fortune to have his attention called either

directly or indirectly to their compositions in larger forms.

XIII.

(3) =Orchestral and Choral Conductors.= The progress of a

country's musical art rests largely in the hands of its orchestral

and choral conductors. America has been exceptionally fortunate in

this respect, for her history presents an army of luminaries who

are unexcelled the world over. The concert and operatic stage of

New York owes its very existence to such indefatigable workers as

Carl Bergmann (1821), Dr. Leopold Damrosch (1832), Theodore Thomas

(1835), Anton Seidl (1850), all four of whom were Germans. And at the

present day, there are a number of eminent conductors in New York.

To Theodore Thomas more than to anyone else is due the present high

standard of musical taste in America. At the head of an excellent

virtuoso orchestra, he traversed the country in his earlier years,

and revealed for the first time the value and meaning of the thoughts

of the great masters, while toward Wagner, Tschaikowsky, Dvo[vr]ák,

etc., he performed the same mission. These were the days when the

New York Philharmonic Society and the Harvard Musical Association in

Boston were the only permanent institutions devoted to orchestral

music. Theodore Thomas not only established a new standard of

interpretation in this country, but so catholic was his taste and

so far reaching his purpose that the debt to him can never be paid.

During his entire career, his attitude toward the American composer

was that of a helpful ally and friend. It was as conductor of the

Philharmonic Society of New York for a term of years and particularly

as conductor of the Cincinnati May Music Festivals and of the Chicago

Orchestra that Thomas' maturer and later years were passed; and it is

especially in these cities that his memory and influence will remain

ineradicable.

In Boston prior to the establishment of a permanent symphony

orchestra in 1881, Lowell Mason's initiative was zealously fostered

by the two foreigners, Carl Zerrahn (1826), Bernhard Listemann

(1839), and by B.J. Lang (1839), together with other tireless

enthusiasts. The Boston Symphony Orchestra has since attracted the

best the world can afford--Henschel, Gericke, Nikisch, Paur.[114]

Inland, public-spirited citizens have made it possible to establish

local symphony orchestras and have almost invariably been exceedingly

fortunate in their choice of conductors. Theodore Thomas migrated to

Chicago. Franz van der Stucken was called to Cincinnati, Frederic

Archer, Victor Herbert, Emil Paur to Pittsburgh, Fritz Scheel to

Philadelphia. Perhaps one of the greatest services to the education

of the country has been rendered by that vast brotherhood of German

Singing Societies which flourish from shore to shore. The high

standard of their performances has been constantly sustained by

men of splendid attainments such as, for instance, van der Stucken

while in New York, John Lund while in Buffalo, Franz Bellinger in

Indianapolis. In recent years American Choral Societies have forged

to the front. Chicago owes much to Tomlins. Frank Damrosch and

his colleagues are doing good work in New York; Mollenhauer, J.

Wallace Goodrich and others in Boston. Similar conditions prevail

in almost every large city in the Union. Neither may the beneficent

influence of our military bandmasters upon the masses be overlooked.

Considering the conditions that have existed in the past, no

one can censure them for catering to the demands of the public.

Nevertheless, they have little by little managed to interpolate

numerous transcriptions from works of recognized merit. Such men as

Gilmore, Sousa and Innes have done more for the cause of good music

than is popularly supposed.

[Footnote 114: Dr. Karl Muck was its conductor for the season of

1906-1907, and continues in the position for 1907-1908.]