From an engraving by Weger, after a photograph from life.
]
The four symphonies in C minor, D, F and E minor are justly regarded as
the most important orchestral works of our generation. Much is still
written against them, and not everybody is willing or able to share the
enthusiasm which their good performance arouses among the majority of
cultivated audiences. Yet nothing can shake their high position among
all symphonic works written since the great master of the immortal Ninth
has left this earth. They have each a very individual character and,
although in the main the old form is retained, new features are to be
found in almost every movement. The first symphony opens with an
impressive sostenuto introduction, the others begin at once with the
principal subject of the allegro. Usually the first part of the latter
is brought to a formal close and repeated; only in the fourth symphony,
so rich in thematic material, no repetition occurs, but a very elaborate
working out prepares for the climax reached in the concentrated
recapitulation. Everywhere noble themes are finely contrasted,
wonderfully developed, wholly or in fragments, in the working out, so as
to hold the listener in breathless suspense. The allegros of the first
and second symphonies have particularly fine codas. The slow movements
are not very extensive and are easily enjoyed, their quieter and lofty
mood being but little disturbed. However, the adagio in No. 2 is more
complicated, has richer material, more frequent changes of key and
rhythm, a more elaborate figure work and a peculiarly intimate spirit. A
remarkable innovation is the consequent substitution for a minuet or
scherzo of a sort of intermezzo, full of grace, sunshine and innocent
playfulness, hardly disturbed by more serious episodes. Most extended is
this in No. 4, a rondo with themes of an almost grotesque character,
surprising details in their development and a spirit of true
Beethoven-like humor. Yet those of the first three symphonies are of no
less importance, having two distinct parts, of which the second one
(contrary to the older trio) has a livelier character. Especially that
of No. 2 is one of the most delightful orchestral pieces of modern
literature. That Brahms is indeed a symphonist of the highest rank, is
particularly evident in his finales. That of No. 1 is conceived in the
grandest spirit, opened by a solemn introduction of overwhelming beauty
and impressiveness, the allegro based on themes of rare inspiration,
their wonderful development rising from climax to climax like a great
triumphal procession. Still the finale of No. 2 is not less inspiring;
even more brilliant, with its glorious themes, the splendid
instrumentation and exciting coda. In No. 3 the closing movement has the
unusual minor key, is less dithyrambic, yet not lacking in life, a
choral-like episode forming a fine contrast, and the whole ending
happily in a long, quiet coda in F major with a poetic reminiscence of
the principal subject of the opening movement. One may justly regard the
finale of No. 4 as a musical wonder, a new experiment gloriously carried
out. It has the shape of a passacaglia, an old dance constructed upon a
ground bass. The theme consists of eight bars, each represented by a
chord, and is treated in about thirty variations of the most ingenious
contrapuntal devices, greatly contrasted, yet so coherently that it
sounds like an uninterrupted logical development, holding our interest
keenly alive and increasing our enjoyment till the splendid end is
reached.
We have thus seen how many strong features Brahms has introduced in the
symphonic form, without departing from its classic foundation; but it is
still more important that as a genius of a superior mind and noble soul
he had the right material in himself to fill this greatest form of
instrumental music with an adequate and original inner life, reflecting
the highest spirit of modern German civilization.
The characteristic feature of the Academic Festival Overture is the
successive introduction of several German student melodies, not in the
form of a potpourri, as it has been unjustly regarded, but as themes
developed with consummate art, expressing the inspiration of a solemn
festival, of loyalty to the fatherland, of merrymaking and youthful
exultation. Every page shows the hand of a superior master. Still
greater is the tragic overture, its spirit reflecting a heroic struggle,
gloom, solemnity, but also hope and comfort; its form being particularly
interesting by an ingenious combination of the working out and
recapitulation into a sort of free, yet coherent, wonderfully
constructed and deeply impressive fantasia.
How much we should like to speak in detail of the two concertos for
violin and for violin and ’cello! It would be a misnomer to call them
symphonies with obligato solo parts, notwithstanding the very elaborate
orchestral score, but more incorrect to compare them with any virtuoso
concertos. Enormous technical difficulties are to be conquered in the
service of high musical purposes. The arrangement is after the classic
model, in three movements. Of these the slow movements with their
melodic breadth are the more enjoyable, while the extensive outer
movements, with their rich development of peculiarly fine and original
themes, require repeated hearings to reveal all their innate beauty and
greatness. And these works, too, belong to the future and can afford to
await their time for a general appreciation.
Brahms’ earlier chorus works are an Ave Maria for female chorus and
orchestra, a funeral chant with wind instruments, four female choruses
with harp and two horns, seven Marianan songs, a setting of the 23d
Psalm for female chorus and organ, several motets and part songs for
four, five or six voices, sacred songs, and twelve romances for female
chorus, partly with piano accompaniment. Now and then we are reminded of
the style of Palestrina or old German folk-songs, then again of Bach’s
polyphonic art with fugues, simple and double canons, yet throughout of
a new, peculiar mode of expression, full of poetic sentiment. Among the
works of later years we mention two motets, which are praised as Brahms’
highest achievements in polyphonic writing, seven songs for mixed
voices, and many arrangements of old German folk-songs.
The German Requiem is of such great importance, that without a knowledge
of it neither a full estimation of Brahms’ individual genius nor of the
significance of the latest epoch of music in general can be obtained.
Taking from the old Latin funeral mass only the name, Brahms selected
certain verses from the Bible, expressing not only the sadness and
terror of death and judgment, but also hope and consolation,—even
thankfulness and praise. His work, independent of any church service and
to be sung in a living language, contains in each note music which came
from the depth of a noble soul and was written by a master of the
highest and most complicated field of vocal composition. Entirely free
from conventionalities or dry learning, each of the seven numbers gives
completely what his genius was able to accomplish. It is indeed the
great funeral chant of modern music, at least for Germans and
Protestants. Choruses I., IV., V. and VII. have a quiet character,
finely expressing the milder feelings above mentioned, yet with all
their seeming simplicity showing a consummate art in the details of
their construction, No. V. being mainly given to a difficult soprano
solo. No. II. (“Behold all flesh is as the grass”) is a peculiar funeral
march in three-four time, the chorus singing partly in unison to strange
and impressive orchestral music; after a touching animato (“Be patient
unto the coming of Christ”) the principal melody is repeated, followed
by a long fugue (“The redeemed of the Lord shall return again”). No.
III. opens with a baritone solo, lamenting the frailty of life, soon
joined by the chorus, rising to a climax expressive of hope. Then
follows that famous fugue, in an astonishingly rich polyphonic
treatment, moving over an uninterrupted, much criticised pedal point on
D to emphasize the words, that “the righteous souls are in the hand of
God.” No. VI. is regarded as the culmination of the work. After the
chorus’ lament that “Here on earth we have no continuing place,” comfort
is brought by the baritone voice unfolding the mystery of the
resurrection. The chorus repeat this and burst out in an ecstatic
vivace, “The trumpet shall sound, the dead shall be raised!...” “...
Grave, where is thy victory, death, where is thy sting?” In wonderful
modulations climax after climax is reached; finally in glorious C major
a double fugue is added, a hymn of praise to “the Lord of honor and
might,” whose proportion, art and impressiveness alone suffice to make
Brahms a compeer of the greatest masters of polyphonic music.
Throughout, chorus, orchestra and soloists have to overcome the greatest
difficulties, but seldom are their efforts directed to more ideal
purposes.
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