The date of the birth of Carl Goldmark, the eminent Austrian composer,
is incorrectly given in the various biographical dictionaries to which
the writer has had access. For correct information on this point and for
the facts contained in the following sketch of the musician’s life,
thanks are due to Leopold Goldmark, his brother. Carl Goldmark was born
at Keszthely, Hungary, May 18, 1830. He came by his musical inclinations
naturally, for his father, Ruben Goldmark, was a precentor, much
esteemed on account of his fine voice. The son showed a fondness for
music at an early age and when very young began to take lessons on the
violin at the Musikverein of Oedenburg. His progress was such that at
the age of twelve his father permitted him to play in public. Soon
afterward he began to play professionally in theatre orchestras. He
continued to do so until the revolution of 1848, when he was obliged to
go into service in the army under the _landsturm_ law.
When his term of service had come to an end he went to Vienna, where,
with the assistance of his eldest brother, Dr. Joseph Goldmark, he
resumed his studies, becoming a pupil in the Böhm Conservatorium.
Unfortunately for the young man, Dr. Goldmark had been an active
participant in the insurrection and was suspected of implication in the
killing of Minister of War, La Tour. He was compelled to leave Austria
and came to America, where he died in 1863. His flight threw Carl on his
own resources, and the young musician succeeded in obtaining an
engagement in the theatre orchestra at Raab, Hungary. Toward the end of
1850, however, he returned to Vienna, where he secured employment in the
orchestra of the Theatre in the Josefstadt.
Young Goldmark at this time showed very plainly of what sort of material
he was made. His salary amounted to about $8 a month, but his ambition
was worth hundreds. He was consumed by a desire to learn to play the
piano, but he could not afford to pay a teacher. He managed, however, to
hire an instrument, and began to study by himself with occasional hints
from friends. Returning late from the theatre to his humble lodgings, he
would spend half the night in practising by the light of a tallow
candle. It may as well be said here that he became sufficiently
proficient as a pianist to give lessons in later years, and he also
taught himself the art of singing with such success that he became the
instructor of Mme. Bettelheim, a contralto who attained prominence on
the Austrian stage. With the exception of his violin lessons and a short
course in composition at the Vienna Conservatory under Sechter,
self-instruction was all the teaching enjoyed by young Goldmark. He
studied assiduously the scores of Mozart, Weber and Beethoven, and
attended the Helmesberger chamber music concerts in Vienna, thus gaining
a valuable acquaintance with the instrumental works of the best masters.
Goldmark was, however, not only a student of music. He made himself
conversant with the German, French, Italian and English Languages. He
also became a devoted student of philosophy, and learned to look up to
Schopenhauer with a truly Wagnerian admiration. In 1850 he became a
contributor to the _Grenzboten_ and to some of the Leipsic musical
papers. His writings have always shown evidence of his wide culture.
It was in 1855 that he began to compose, and in 1857 he gave a concert
of his own works at the Vienna Musikverein-Halle. The compositions
presented were an overture, a piano quartet, a ballad for tenor, chorus
and orchestra, and two songs. He was at that period of his career a
devoted follower of Mendelssohn, and the works played at his concert
were in that master’s style. Goldmark’s fondness for his early offspring
was short-lived and the works were not published. He outlived his
Mendelssohnian devotion and subsequently became a fervent admirer of
Schumann, whose influence is clearly discernible in some of his later
works.
The composer’s first decided success was the overture to “Sakuntala,”
opus 13, written in 1864, and now known favorably all over Europe and in
this country. In 1865, while walking in one of the principal streets of
Vienna, he saw a picture of the Queen of Sheba visiting Solomon. The
picture made a vivid impression on his imagination, and at length he
went to H. S. Mosenthal, the well known dramatist, author of “Leah, the
Forsaken,” and begged him to undertake the task of constructing a
libretto out of the story which had grown up in the composer’s mind. In
three years the opera was finished in its first shape, but Goldmark was
dissatisfied with it. Mosenthal made the desired changes in the book,
and about one-half of the score was rewritten, the work being finished
early in 1872. Goldmark then submitted it to Joseph Herbeck, conductor
of the court opera at Vienna. It is believed that Herbeck was jealous of
Goldmark, because the latter had defeated him in a competition for a
Government prize of 800 gulden. At any rate Herbeck kept the score of
“The Queen of Sheba” locked up for two years. Finally, at a musicale
given by the Princess Hohenlohe, whose husband was master of ceremonies
to the Emperor, Ignatz Brüll, then a rising young pianist, played some
selections from Goldmark’s opera. The Princess and others, pleased by
the music, asked Brüll some questions about the work, and the story of
Herbeck’s delay over the score came out. The influence of the Princess
and the Countess Andrassy led to an imperial command for the production
of the opera, and it was accordingly performed on March 10, 1875. The
success of the opera was great and the composer was called out nearly
forty times. “The Queen of Sheba” has been given in various European
cities, and was first performed in America at the Metropolitan Opera
House, New York, on Wednesday, Dec. 2, 1885, with the following cast:
Sulamith, Frau Lilli Lehman; the Queen, Frau Krämer-Wiedl; Astaroth,
Fräulein Marianne Brandt; Solomon, Herr Robinson; Assad, Herr Stritt;
Baal Hanan, Herr Alexi; High Priest, Herr Fischer. The conductor was
Anton Seidl. It was the most successful opera in the repertory of the
house that season, being presented fifteen times, to aggregate receipts
of $60,000. It was given four times the following season, and again five
times in the season of 1889–90, always to audiences of good size.
His second opera, “Merlin,” was produced in Vienna Nov. 19, 1886, and at
the Metropolitan Opera House Jan. 3, 1887, with the following cast:
Viviane, Lilli Lehmann; Morgana, Brandt; Artus, Robinson; Modred,
Kemlitz; Gawein, Heinrich; Lancelot, Basch; Merlin, Alvary; Dämon,
Fischer. The conductor was Walter Damrosch. It was performed five times
in the course of the season, but did not achieve the success of its
predecessor. While waiting for the production of “The Queen of Sheba,”
Goldmark wrote his B flat quartet and his suite for piano and violin.
Goldmark has devoted his life to composition. He takes no pupils and has
refused not only all orders and distinctions, but all offers of posts as
conductor. The only office he has ever held—and that but briefly—is the
presidency of the Vienna Tonkünstlerverein. His home is in Vienna, but
about May 1st of every year he goes to Gmunden, on the Traunsee in upper
Austria. There he remains till October, working incessantly except
during four weeks in midsummer. He then takes a vacation, going to the
Fusch valley, near Salzburg, where he spends six to eight hours a day in
mountain climbing. All his composing is done at Gmunden. He is a widower
and has a daughter twenty years of age.
Goldmark’s principal works are the two operas already mentioned, the
“Sakuntala,” “Penthesilea,” “Spring” and “Prometheus” overtures, the
symphony in E flat and the “Ländliche Hochzeit” symphony, and the violin
concerto in A minor, opus 28. These are the works by which he is best
known in this country, his chamber music being played infrequently. The
composer’s musical development is readily divided into two periods. He
made the division himself when, in 1875, he decided that he would
abandon his earlier style of writing, in which he had made extensive use
of Oriental melody and color. He imbibed a fondness for this style when
in his childhood he listened to the voice of his father in the
synagogue. He himself seems to have felt, however, that in giving his
music a local or racial coloring he was detracting from its
universality, and after the production of the “Queen of Sheba,” he said
to his friends that he would write no more eastern music. It was
doubtless this determination which led him to select the story of Merlin
as the subject for his next opera. The most thoughtful critics of
Goldmark’s music are of the opinion that he was not wise in his
determination. As an Oriental colorist in music, he certainly has no
superior, and probably no equal, while his “Merlin” is without the most
interesting manifestations of his individuality. Goldmark without his
color is Swinburne without his versification. The composer’s best works,
except the overture to “Prometheus,” are surely those written before the
resolution of 1875.
The story of “The Queen of Sheba” is not taken from the Bible, but is
purely imaginary. It deals with the fascination of Assad, a courtier, by
the beautiful Queen, who has indulged in a passage of love with him on
her journey to Solomon’s court. When Assad recognizes her in Solomon’s
palace, she denies having met him before, but both Solomon and Sulamith,
Assad’s promised bride, see that something is wrong. The Queen again
shows herself to Assad by night, and the next day in the palace. Assad
proclaims the truth. Solomon decrees that the youth must work out his
salvation by defeating the powers of evil, and banishes him to the
desert. Sulamith seeks him and he dies in her arms, while the Queen and
her caravan are seen in the distance returning homeward. Dr. Mosenthal’s
libretto is not a fine poetic achievement, but it is theatrically very
effective, blending spectacular and dramatic scenes in a telling manner.
The composer has made excellent use of his opportunities. Assad’s
recital of his first adventure with the Queen, is set to admirably
descriptive music, and it is followed by a most captivating ballet and
an inspiring chorus of greeting to the Queen. The ensuing scene is
richly dramatic. The duet between the Queen and Assad in the moonlit
garden is intensely passionate and glows with the warm color of eastern
melody. The instrumental richness of the score seems to be quite as
natural an outcome of the composer’s fancy as his easy adoption of
Oriental rhythms and cadences, which he handled as one to the manner
born. The most important objection which has been made to this music is
that it is “so unvaryingly stimulated that it wearies and makes the
listener long for a fresher and healthier musical atmosphere.” The
production of “The Queen of Sheba” in New York was one of the most
brilliant spectacles ever seen in America, and the performances were
rich in musical merit.
The comparative failure of “Merlin” was due largely to the effort of the
librettist, Herr Siegfried Lipiner, to mingle the supernatural with the
story of Merlin and Vivien and to drag in Goethe’s principle of saving
womanhood—a favorite theme with Wagner. Indeed, there are many things in
the libretto which indicate that it was suggested by Wagnerian works,
chiefly “Parsifal.” The librettist’s greatest success was in his
characterization of Vivien, which is excellent. The composer also fell
into the Wagnerian pit and strove vainly to handle the _Leitmotif_. His
music, moreover, suffered, as has already been intimated, from his
determined effort to rid himself of the Oriental color which was his
natural garb. Nevertheless it must be said in justice to Goldmark, that
no operatic writer of our time has shown a greater seriousness of
purpose than that manifested in “Merlin.” The musical dialogue of the
opera is nobly elevated in style, but lacks variety. The orchestration
is rich and glowing in color, yet is without complexity of construction,
and there is a delightful absence of the set forms of the old-fashioned
opera. But “Merlin” lacks the inspiration and the spontaneity of style
which are displayed by the composer when laboring in his congenial
Oriental field.
The “Ländliche Hochzeit” symphony is a symphony in name rather than in
fact. It is a series of descriptive movements, written with a little of
the composer’s characteristic tinge of Orientalism and with all of his
mastery of instrumental coloring. It is fluent, melodious and strongly
rhythmical. In short, it is music that pleases a miscellaneous audience
without offending the discriminating music-lover. The symphony in E
flat, like the violin concerto, the present writer regards as one of the
composer’s least happy achievements. It is but just to say, however,
that some good judges do not hold this opinion of the work. The first
movement is built on a flowing and rhythmic theme announced by the
violins, and from this the second subject is very happily deduced; but
neither is fruitful in itself. The scherzo is by far the best movement,
and is, indeed, a bit of writing of which any recent symphonist might be
proud. It is light and airy in theme and the instrumentation is
effective.
The violin concerto in A minor is lacking in spontaneity of thought.
When we turn to Goldmark’s overtures, however, we find the composer at
his best. All his overtures are admirable, one is exceptionally fine,
and another is great. The “Sakuntala” overture is deemed Goldmark’s best
by many critics, but the present writer prefers the “Prometheus.” The
story of the love of King Dushyanta for Sakuntala, daughter of the Saint
Viswamitra and the water nymph Menaka, is one of the most beautiful in
the Hindoo mythology. The maiden is reared in the forest by Kanwa, and
there Dushyanta, while hunting, meets and loves her. The principal
themes in Goldmark’s overture are the melodies representing Sakuntala’s
loneliness in the forest, the royal hunt, and the love of the king and
the maiden. The composition is opulent in its Oriental richness of color
and is full of the passionate intensity and vigorous aggressiveness of
the strongest scenes in the “Queen of Sheba.”
The “Prometheus” overture, a product of Goldmark’s maturity, is a superb
work, one of the most admirable produced in recent years, and one that
ought to live. The composer has chosen some of the salient features of
Æschylus’s sublime tragedy, and has expressed them eloquently. The
opening measures speak of the loneliness of the chained Prometheus,
surrounded by the empty infinity of space. A beautiful theme in the wood
is said to signify the prostrate god’s hope, but such an interpretation
is not justified by the tragedy. The writer prefers to regard it as an
expression of the repose of the sea, whence floats up a few measures
later the sympathetic chorus of sea-nymphs, represented by two themes,
one a lovely undulating melody in the wood, the other, speaking more
eloquently of their yearning over Prometheus, a flowing melody for the
strings. The bold, restless spirit of the god is finely expressed by the
allegro, with which the sea-nymph music is worked out in effective
contrast. An increase in tempo and a change in the melody near the end
of the work lead to a forcible proclamation of Jove’s sentence by the
trombones, and the whole closes with the music of space and the sea. In
form, in instrumentation and in elaboration, as well as in emotional
content, the overture is noble.
The “Penthesilea” overture is founded on the Homeric episode of the
emotion of Achilles over the beautiful corpse of the Amazon queen, slain
by him in battle. The composition is very clear in purpose and is well
written. The “Spring” overture is the least striking of the works under
consideration, yet it displays much of the composer’s mastery of
orchestral technique.
Goldmark’s music, on the whole, is distinguished by a deep and manly
warmth, a restless aggressiveness and a hyperbolic instrumental
language. In this latter respect it resembles Eastern poetry in the
extravagance of its forms of expression, at times approaching bombast.
At his best, however, as in the “Prometheus” overture, the composer is
capable of strong, serious, lofty feeling, noble dignity of utterance
and reposeful symmetry of form. It is because this overture exhibits
these powers of Goldmark in a higher form than his other compositions
that the present writer looks upon it as his greatest work. His operas
are eclectic in style and the result is something between Meyerbeer and
Wagner; but in his overtures the individuality of Goldmark is most
clearly revealed. Admirable as much of his chamber music is, it suffers
by comparison with his larger works because of the lack of those
instrumental colors which the composer uses with such dazzling effect.
It is impossible to predict the future of Goldmark’s music; but it
certainly belongs to the present, and some of it seems likely to live.
[Illustration: N. J. Henderson.]
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