CONTEMPORANEOUS CHORAL MUSIC IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA
Elgar: ‘The Light of Life’; ‘The Dream of Gerontius’;
‘The Apostles’; ‘The Kingdom’; ‘The Music Makers’--Parry:
‘War and Peace’; ‘The Vision of Life’; ‘The Pied Piper of
Hamelin’; Mackenzie; Cowen; Coleridge-Taylor--Bantock:
‘The Fire Worshippers’; ‘Omar Khayyam’ and other choral
works--Holbrooke: ‘The Bells’, ‘Byron’ and other works;
Grainger and others; Walford Davies: ‘Everyman’; ‘The Temple’
and other works; minor English choral writers--Horatio
Parker: ‘Morven and the Grail’ and smaller works; Chadwick:
‘Judith’ and ‘Noël’--Henry Hadley: ‘Merlin and Vivian’ and
short works; F. S. Converse: ‘Job’; other American choral
writers.
I
Among the large group of British composers of the immediate present
the task of recording events of value and moment is rendered somewhat
easier by virtue of the fact that its dominating figure, Sir Edward
Elgar (born 1857), crossed the line into the twentieth century with
a well-defined style of individual expression and a clear title to
leadership, won through a noble series of both orchestral and choral
works. This series has been augmented during the first decade of
the century by works of such splendid proportions and such already
recognized importance that at least some of them may be regarded as
already occupying places of permanency for some time to come. As the
result of this leadership, there is discernible a distinct tendency to
regard Elgar as a kind of standard of measurement for British musical
values. So much is this true that we already hear of Elgarians and
post-Elgarians--for Elgar has by no means said the last word in British
music and a school of young composers is developing that is surely
destined to accomplish great things for musical England.
Elgar’s most important choral works since 1900 belong to the class of
religious music and all are deeply permeated with the same spirit of
mysticism that characterizes the religious music of Franck and other
devout modern adherents of the Roman Church; indeed, the Roman point of
view in interpreting the teachings of the Bible and the deep things of
life, is especially discernible in ‘The Apostles’ and ‘The Kingdom,’ as
well as in ‘The Dream of Gerontius.’
Elgar’s mode of musical speech is remarkable, even among present-day
colorists, for its wealth of color and its richness of tonal effects.
Yet he is no impressionist of the Debussy type; every detail of poetic
and imaginative suggestion is worked out with careful reference to
its own effectiveness as well as that of the larger units to which
it may belong. In his treatment of voice-parts there is a remarkable
fluency and independence that suggests the old ecclesiastical
methods. There is perfect correspondence, in all matters of verbal
accentuation, between melodic setting and rhetorical delivery. In
his marked preference for long lines of indefinite melodic structure
(absence of definite phrases), he closely allies himself not only with
the ‘Palestrina style’ but with the Wagnerian method of continuous
‘melos.’ His kinship with Wagner is further emphasized by the elaborate
employment of ‘leading motives’ in his largest works. In these motives,
however, he is not as fortunate as was Wagner in casting them in
distinct, individual, and easily-distinguishable forms. This defect
may be inevitable, perhaps, in treating sacred themes subject to so
many purely spiritual ramifications as Elgar indulges in. As in the
Wagnerian scheme, so in the Elgarian, the orchestra assumes a rôle
of utmost importance, frequently overtopping the choral forces and
appropriating for its own purposes the composer’s choicest melodies.
But Elgar’s mode of treating the orchestra on the whole differs
radically from Wagner’s because of the different points from which they
approached their tasks in their respective vocal works--Wagner from
the standpoint of dramatic effect, Elgar from the standpoint of pure
church-music. Hence in the three works above mentioned one finds, for
long stretches at a time, a spirit of lofty impersonality, an absence
of sensuous melodies, which tends to lull the mind of the listener into
a passive condition for receiving the impressions of the text, which is
by no means unlike the mental condition produced by listening to actual
liturgic music.
‘The Light of Life’ is Elgar’s first work in oratorio style and is
short--not as long as many sacred cantatas; yet its exceedingly serious
style precludes its being called a cantata. It received its initial
hearing at the Worcester Festival in September, 1896. The text by Rev.
E. Capel-Cure relates the gospel story of the man, blind from his
birth, whom Jesus healed. The persons represented are the mother of the
blind man (soprano), the narrator (contralto), the blind man (tenor)
and the Master (baritone).
After a meditative and melodious orchestral introduction the first
chorus, ‘Seek Him,’ is sung, by the Levites (male voices) in the Temple
courts. The blind man’s prayer for light is followed by a recitative
by the narrator. The disciples ask ‘Who did sin?’ which is directly
answered in an expressive aria sung by the mother, who asserts that
he has not been made to suffer this affliction because of the sins of
others. The Master then explains, ‘Neither hath this man sinned,’ after
which a broad, forcible chorus, ‘Light out of darkness,’ follows. The
eyes of the blind man are now anointed, he washes in the Pool of Siloam
and comes forth healed; then he is asked by his incredulous neighbors
and towns-people how this healing came. In the heated discussion
which follows, the music becomes very dramatic. After the blind man
has related his story, the Pharisees again enter into discussion, the
strife between those approving and those condemning the man being
described in a characteristic choral setting. Especially effective is
the orchestration in the scene in which the Jews question the mother
and the blind man. The strongest and most beautiful part of the work is
a solo sung by the Master, ‘I am the good shepherd,’ which soon leads
to the final chorus, ‘Light of the world,’ which, though short, is
permeated by a strongly triumphant feeling.
‘The Dream of Gerontius’ was written by Edward Elgar upon commission of
the Birmingham Festival Committee and performed on the morning of Oct.
3, 1900, at the Birmingham Triennial Festival. Although it was finished
for this particular occasion, it had been in the composer’s mind for
years and was, therefore, not thought out in haste, as has been the
case with many other occasional works. The poem by Cardinal Newman
relates the dream of Gerontius as he lies on his death-bed, the flight
of his soul to the realm of the unseen, its awakening with ‘a strange
refreshment’ as it is safely piloted before the Judge by the Angel, or
Soul’s Guardian Spirit, amid the hubbub of demons and the reassuring
voices of the angels--not, however, before it has been purified in the
waters of purgatory. This poem had made a profound impression upon
Elgar and the words and the music are so closely wedded that they seem
like twin-expressions of the same thought, both poet and composer
having approached their tasks from the standpoint of devout Catholics.
The work calls for only three soloists, mezzo-soprano, tenor and
bass, besides chorus and unusually large orchestra, the latter being
augmented by double bassoon, organ, gong and glockenspiel. The string
section is often divided into many parts, sometimes fifteen and even
twenty. Elgar employs many leading motives, characteristic of the
verbal ideas with which they are associated, the orchestral prelude
alone giving out ten important ones that foreshadow the scheme of the
work. In the work itself, as in all of Elgar’s later choral works,
all traces of the classical oratorio disappear and solo, choral and
orchestral parts follow each other without pause and with utmost
freedom of movement within clearly defined scenes or parts. His
part-writing is beautifully contrapuntal, but it rarely even approaches
fugal writing.
The first part reveals Gerontius (tenor) on his death-bed. As the
prelude closes, he sings ‘Jesu Maria, I am near to death,’ after which
a semi-chorus chants the _Kyrie eleison_. Gerontius is again heard
in the words ‘Rouse thee, my fainting soul,’ when a second chorus
responds in tender strains, ‘Be merciful.’ The holy man then sings with
deep feeling a longer solo, _Sanctus fortis_, and after an effective
orchestral interlude resumes with the words, ‘I can no more,’ in
which he expresses fear and horror at his own hallucinations. This is
followed by a short chorus, ‘Rescue him, O Lord,’ sung by the attendant
priests. Gerontius then sings his dying song, _Novissima hora est_,
and the following full chorus, ‘Go forth upon thy journey,’ brings the
first part to a close. The prelude to the second part pictures the
soul’s journey. Gerontius’ first utterance is in a dreamy solo, ‘I went
to sleep and now I am refreshed,’ after which the Guardian Angel sings
a lovely melody called the ‘Alleluia’--‘My work is done, my task is
o’er.’ After a dialogue between the Angel and the Soul, their flight
amid howling demons of darkness to the throne of God is pictured in a
vividly dramatic scene. The two again engage in dialogue, followed by
an impressive chorus of the Angelicals. The Angel then sings ‘We have
now passed the gate,’ and after further dialogue the chorus is heard
in ‘Glory to Him.’ Further passages between the Soul and the chorus
ensue, when the Angelicals join in an exultant chorus, ‘Praise to the
Holiest in the height.’ In the silence following, the Soul hears the
distant voices of men on earth. The Angel’s explanation of this is
interrupted by a virile bass solo sung by the Angel of Agony, ‘Jesu,
by that shuddering dread.’ The Angel then repeats the ‘Alleluia’ given
in Part I and continues, amid the choruses of Angelicals and souls in
purgatory, in a beautiful melody, ‘Softly and gently, dearly ransomed
soul,’ after which the work closes with the diminishing strains of the
chorus of the Angelicals, ‘Praise to the Holiest in the height.’
II
‘The Apostles.’--This, the second of Elgar’s large oratorios and
certainly one of his best, was heard for the first time at the
Birmingham Festival, on Oct. 3, 1903. That Elgar had in mind the
writing of a trilogy, of which ‘The Apostles’ is the first part, is
evidenced by his statement in the preface of this work that he had long
desired ‘to compose an oratorio which should embody the calling of the
Apostles, their teaching (schooling) and their mission, culminating in
the establishment of the Church among the Gentiles. The present work
carries out the first portion of the scheme; the second portion remains
for a future occasion.’ The text is an unusually good one, Elgar
himself having spent years on its compilation from the Scriptures and
the Apocrypha. The personages represented are the Virgin and the Angel,
soprano; Mary Magdalene, alto; St. John, tenor; Jesus, St. Peter and
Judas, basses. The tenor acts also as narrator. The leading motive is
even more extensively used than in ‘The Dream of Gerontius,’ and the
orchestra, which is large and augmented by the shofar (ancient Hebrew
trumpet), presents the most important of the themes in the prelude,
thus making it a sort of musical epitome of the whole work. The text is
grouped into two large parts, with three scenes in the first part and
four in the second.
In the first scene of Part I, ‘The Calling of the Apostles,’ after the
statement that Jesus had spent the night in prayer on the mountain,
there follows the dawn, proclaimed by the watchers on the roof of the
Temple. The shofar, which announces the daybreak in Jewish synagogues,
at this point is heard in the orchestra. From within the Temple comes
the response, ‘It is a good thing to give thanks.’ The calling of
the apostles now follows and closes the scene. The second scene, ‘By
the Wayside,’ discloses Jesus teaching the people the Beatitudes.
The third scene, ‘By the Sea of Galilee,’ depicts the repentance and
regeneration of Mary Magdalene, which is one of the finest portions
of the work. It also sets forth Jesus’ calming of the storm and his
walking on the water. The second part begins with the fourth scene,
‘The Betrayal,’ which includes the scenes in Gethsemane, in the palace
of the High Priest and without the Temple. No other composer has
treated the betrayal at such length and it contains some of the most
touching passages of the whole work, among them the short chorus, ‘And
the Lord looked upon Peter and he went out and wept bitterly.’ In the
fifth scene, ‘Golgotha,’ Jesus’ words, ‘_Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?_’
are not spoken, but their meaning is poignantly expressed in a few
introductory measures by the orchestra, after which follows a short,
impressive choral phrase of four measures, ‘Truly this was the Son of
God.’ The sixth is a short scene ‘At the Sepulchre’ and the seventh
and last, ‘The Ascension,’ is characterized by remarkable ensemble
passages of great sonority, the voices being grouped as follows: ‘In
Heaven’ (mystic chorus of female voices in two groups) and ‘On Earth’
(four solo voices and male chorus of the apostles). This section is
quite long and elaborate and leads to a mighty ‘Alleluia,’ gradually
diminishing to a _pianissimo_ close.
‘The Kingdom,’ which Elgar wrote for and produced at the Birmingham
Festival, Oct. 3, 1906, is the second portion of the trilogy
anticipated in the composer’s preface to ‘The Apostles’--the third
portion, though promised, has not yet appeared. In order to set forth
the relation of the two works to each other, they were performed at
this festival in the order in which they were conceived. Much of the
‘leading motive’ material of ‘The Apostles’ is also used in ‘The
Kingdom,’ thereby establishing a close unity between the two works.
The oratorio, the religious theme of which is the establishment of the
Church at Jerusalem, consists of five divisions: (1) In the Upper Room;
(2) At the Beautiful Gate (The Morn of Pentecost); (3) Pentecost (In
the Upper Room. In Solomon’s Porch); (4) The Sign of Healing (At the
Beautiful Gate. The Arrest); (5) The Upper Room (In Fellowship. The
Breaking of Bread. The Prayers). The persons represented are The Virgin
Mary, soprano; Mary Magdalene, alto; St. John, tenor; and St. Peter,
bass; the chorus represents the disciples, the holy women and the
people.
After a long orchestral introduction, in which the important themes
are stated and developed, comes the opening chorus of disciples and
holy women together with the quartet of soloists, ‘Seek first the
Kingdom of God,’ as they are all gathered in the Upper Room. After
Peter leads in the celebration of the Eucharist by the breaking of
bread, they sing a hymn of praise and there follows a discussion, led
by Peter, as to the choosing of a successor to fill Judas’ place. The
second division opens with a duet of the two Marys at the Beautiful
Gate, leading directly into section three, ‘Pentecost,’ which is the
longest of the work and is ushered in by a tenor solo, stating that
they were ‘all with one accord in one place.’ The chorus of disciples
alternates with the mystic chorus of female voices, in a description of
the descent of the Holy Ghost, the music, with the added organ in the
accompaniment, being very effective. ‘In Solomon’s Porch’ sets forth
the ‘speaking in other tongues’ and Peter’s admonition, ‘Repent and be
baptized.’ The fourth section deals with the healing of the lame man
at the Beautiful Gate, after which Peter and John are arrested because
they preached the resurrection of Jesus, and here the music becomes
very dramatic. It closes with Mary’s lovely meditation, ‘The sun goeth
down,’ in which two old Hebrew hymns are used. The fifth section, with
the disciples and holy women again gathered in the Upper Room, opens
with a joyful, almost triumphant chorus, ‘The voice of joy is in the
dwelling of the righteous,’ after which follows ‘The Breaking of Bread’
and ‘The Lord’s Prayer.’ A quiet closing chorus, ‘Thou, O Lord, art our
Father,’ is sung by chorus and soloists.
‘The Music Makers,’ Elgar’s opus 69, published in 1912, is a setting
of an ode by Arthur O’Shaughnessy for contralto solo, chorus and
orchestra, the chorus bearing the brunt of the vocal work. An idea of
the content is given in the first stanza:
‘We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by the lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;--
Word-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems,’
after which the achievements of the Music Makers are recited in the
building of ‘the world’s great cities’ and the fashioning of ‘an
empire’s glory.’ Especially significant is the stanza beginning:
‘A breath of our inspiration
Is the life of each generation’;
and concluding with:
‘Till our dream shall become their present,
And their work in the world be done.’
The work opens with an orchestral prelude, very melodious and noble in
style, which, after a strong climax, leads into the first chorus, ‘We
are the music makers.’ This enters softly and rises to tremendous force
at the words, ‘and shakers of the world for ever.’ The composition
abounds in striking contrasts of dynamics and rhythm, and while
portions of it are sung in a narrative manner, there are exceedingly
dramatic passages and in these Elgar calls the orchestra to his aid
most effectively. The whole work is grateful for singers and full of
color. Possibly the loveliest part of it is the section comprising
the fourth and fifth stanzas, beginning with the above quotation, ‘A
breath of our inspiration,’ and including the first contralto solo and
obbligato.
III
The elder composers, who first set the stream of English music in the
direction of original forms of expression, have not been idle in the
years since 1900. Alexander C. Mackenzie (born 1847) contributed to
the Leeds Festival of 1904 a cantata, ‘The Witch’s Daughter,’ adapted
from Whittier; Henry Coward (born 1852) composed ‘Gareth and Linet,’ a
musical romance of large proportions based on Malory’s _Morte D’Arthur_
for the Sheffield Festival of 1902; and Frederick H. Cowen (born 1852)
wrote for the Cardiff Festival of 1900 an oratorio, ‘The Veil,’ the
text of which is taken from Robert Buchanan’s deeply mystical poem,
‘The Book of Orm,’ an apologia for the vindication of the ways of God
to man, justifying death and sorrow and evil. The work is divided into
the following sections: 1, The Veil Woven; 2, Earth the Mother; 3, The
Dream of the World without Death; 4, The Soul and the Dwelling; 5,
Songs of Seeking; 6, The Lifting of the Veil.
The veteran composer, C. Hubert H. Parry (born 1848), has been
the most active of this group, no less than three important choral
compositions having come from his pen in the first decade of the
century. ‘War and Peace’ (1903) is a symphonic ode (text by the
composer) in ten numbers, in which ‘the fallen angels, Pride and
Hate,’ are pictured as the arch-instigators of all strife. The
recompense comes after these furies have ‘drunk the lust of blood.’
Numbers entitled ‘Comradeship,’ ‘Home-Coming,’ ‘Song of Peace,’ and
‘Home,’ lead to a stirring and noble ‘Marching Song of Peace’ and a
final prayer, ‘Grant us Thy peace, Lord.’ The Norfolk and Norwich
Festival of 1905 brought out his setting in cantata form of Browning’s
well-known ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin.’ Here the scholarly writer of
dignified choral counterpoint becomes genuinely humorous as the tale
unfolds how the rats ravaged ‘Hamelin town by famous Hanover city,’ a
characteristic little figure being used to portray the gnawing of the
rats. It is rather simple in style and an atmosphere of folk-melody
and legend pervades the work. ‘The Vision of Life,’ a symphonic poem
for soprano and bass solos, chorus and orchestra, received its first
performance at the Cardiff Festival, 1907. The poem by the composer
presents a vision of the course of man. Beginning with the savage
and cave-dweller, it pictures Greek culture with its worship of the
beautiful, the might of Rome with its passion for power which in time
gives way to the teachings of Christianity; then comes the mad fury of
the French Revolution, the oppression of the slave and the domination
of pride--and all finally ‘yields to the spirit of love and of truth’
and the vision pictures a future of peace when
‘Hope and helpfulness unwearied
Make all the path a radiant mead;
And brother sees in the eyes of brother
The trust that makes toil’s best reward.’
The solo voices are The Dreamer and The Spirit of the Vision, and the
musical treatment of solo and choral parts is noble and masterful.
The untimely death of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor in 1912 (he was born
in 1875) cut short a career that began with unusual promise. Though
none of his later works possesses the spontaneity and musical charm
of the ‘Hiawatha’ cantatas, he has produced several fine choral works
since 1900. ‘The Blind Girl of Castél Cuillé,’ written for the Leeds
Festival of 1901, is a setting of Longfellow’s translation of a Gascon
poem which relates the story of a blind girl who was deserted by her
lover for another maiden and who, heart-broken, dies at the latter’s
wedding. ‘Meg Blane’ (a Rhapsody of the Sea by Robert Buchanan)
followed in 1902 and was first performed at the Sheffield Musical
Festival of the same year. The text weirdly describes the terrors of
the sea. ‘The Atonement,’ which closely follows the sequence of the
Gospel narratives of the Passion, was given at the Hereford Festival,
1903, and ‘Kubla Khan,’ by the Handel Society in 1906. The ‘Bon-Bon
Suite,’ which appeared in 1908, is a setting of six poems by Thomas
Moore for baritone solo, chorus and orchestra. The poems are ‘The Magic
Mirror,’ ‘The Fairy Boat,’ ‘To Rosa,’ ‘Love and Hymen,’ ‘The Watchman,’
and ‘Say, What Shall We Dance?’ The words of these poems have little
relationship to each other, though the key to the whole is probably in
the first poem, ‘The Magic Mirror.’ ‘Endymion’s Dream,’ for soprano and
tenor solos, chorus and orchestra, was published in 1910. The words are
by C. R. B. Barrett and are based on the ancient legend of Endymion,
originally a name for the Sun as he sinks into the sea. In the later
legend, Endymion, a priest of Jove, while sacrificing, prayed for
everlasting youth. This was granted, but coupled with eternal sleep.
Mercury carried him to Mount Latmos and Selene, the Moon Goddess,
nightly gazed down upon him lovingly. Coleridge-Taylor’s last cantata
was ‘A Tale of Old Japan,’ poem by Alfred Noyes, which was published
in 1911. It is the quaint, sad story of the unrequited love of little
Kimi for the great painter Sawara, and the music, which is rhapsodical
in character, is full of charming touches of ‘local color.’ Solo voices
take an important share of the work.
IV
Granville Bantock, born Aug. 7, 1868, in London, is usually classed
as one of the ‘middle group’ of modern English composers, to which Sir
Edward Elgar belongs, in distinction to the so-called ‘post-Elgarians.’
Bantock is a composer endowed with vivid imagination and a strong and
distinct musical personality, exemplified in a number of important
works. He has written much for orchestra, notably the symphonic poems:
‘Thalaba the Destroyer’ (after Southey), given in London, 1902; ‘Dante
and Beatrice’ (Birmingham, 1903); the comedy-overture ‘The Pierrot of
the Minute,’ and the symphonic drama ‘Fifine at the Fair’ (Birmingham,
1912), and, aside from a number of other works, the two orchestral
scenes ‘Processional’ and ‘Yaga-Naut,’ fragments of a monster cycle,
‘The Curse of Kehama,’ never completed.
Bantock’s leaning toward Orientalism in his music is shown in his great
choral works as well as in his symphonic compositions. To say nothing
of his one-act opera ‘The Pearl of Iran,’ his six books of Oriental
songs (Arabian, Japanese, Egyptian, Persian, Indian, Chinese), his
‘Ferishtah’s Fancies’ (Browning), for soprano and orchestra, and the
‘Five Ghazals of Hafiz,’ for baritone and orchestra, we have his choral
works, ‘The Fire Worshippers’ and ‘Omar Khayyam,’ both constructed on
large lines.
‘The Fire Worshippers’ is a dramatic cantata in six scenes for chorus,
solos and orchestra, a work of considerable extent and making many
demands on the singers, whose story is laid in the ancient Persia of
the Magi. Its overture was performed, singly, in 1892, at a Royal
College of Music concert, but the work was not given in its entirety
until 1910. Though ‘rich in feeling and sumptuous in tissue, with a
curious blend of sensuousness and spirituality,’ it has never secured
the meed of favor accorded the composer’s ‘Omar Khayyam.’
In this work, ‘a union of inspired poetry with inspired music,’ to
quote Rosa Newmarch, we have the composer at his best. It presents
in a musical setting no less than 54 stanzas of ‘The Rubaiyat,’
about half the book, for a tremendous chorus, three solo voices and
a large orchestra. In his music Bantock has given these Epicurean
drinking-songs of Mohammedan Persia their inner spiritual significance.
He emphasizes their dramatic quality as songs of revolt against Koranic
law and idealizes them as a defiance of reason and nature against
religious bigotry. The work is inordinately long, judged by ordinary
standards, and difficult of performance; yet the composer’s tendency
toward frequent modulation is always balanced by a sure sense of beauty
and proportion. From the muezzin’s call to prayer at sunset ‘the work
moves on from mood to mood, from contrast to contrast--conflict and
repose, love and death, regnant glory and the dust of oblivion--in
a wonderful and strenuous comment on human existence.’ The more
directly lyric stanzas are assigned to the Poet (tenor) and the Beloved
(contralto); the philosophical reflections on the eternal ‘Yea and
Nay’ of human existence are placed in the mouth of the Philosopher
(baritone). The love duets, especially ‘When you and I behind the
veil,’ are rich in haunting charm, and the choruses glow with vivid
color. Bantock’s musical Orientalism is not a mere matter of externals,
of rhythms, of vocal arabesques and percussion-effects. It goes far
deeper and interprets the soul of the Orient as Pierre Loti has done
in his prose poems. And on hearing Bantock’s ‘Rubaiyat’ it seems, as
Mrs. Newmarch beautifully puts it, ‘as though the northern wind had
scattered a fresh shower of rose leaves upon the grave of Omar Khayyam.’
Nor has Bantock been insensible to the appeal of the myths of ancient
Hellas. A ‘choral symphony’ set to Swinburne’s beautiful ‘Atalanta
in Calydon,’ in twenty parts, _a cappella_, performed 1912 at the
Manchester Festival, bears witness to the fact. It is said to be the
most difficult work ever written for unaccompanied chorus, the final
movement in particular taxing the voices to the utmost. In it the
composer has blazed new paths of choral effect by means of groupings
of variously constituted choirs, and among other of its movements a
_scherzo_ for female voices is especially praised. Bantock’s other
secular choral works include: ‘The Time Spirit,’ a rhapsody for chorus
and orchestra (first heard at Gloucester Festival, 1904); three
‘Cavalier Tunes’ for male chorus, ‘God Save the King,’ for chorus and
orchestra, and various choruses for female and mixed voices, among
which might be mentioned ‘On Himalay,’ all fine examples of original
and harmonious part-writing.
In the field of sacred music Bantock has also been active. A ‘Mass
in B-flat major’ for male voices (1893), an anthem, a setting of the
82d Psalm, and the two oratorios ‘Christ in the Desert’ (Gloucester
Festival, 1907) and ‘Gethsemane,’ should be mentioned. Of these the
latter is the more important and was given at the Gloucester Festival
of 1910. An episode from the life of Christ, it has been written for
baritone solo, chorus, orchestra and organ to biblical words. A richly
ornamented orchestral prelude in A-flat is succeeded by a species of
symphony for baritone, orchestra and chorus in four sections: ‘In the
Garden,’ ‘The Agony,’ ‘The Prayer,’ ‘Betrayal.’ Rhythmic in movement
and clear in expression, its music is especially dramatic in the
‘Betrayal Scene,’ which leads over to a chorus followed by a short solo
and an eight-part choral finale.
V
In Joseph Holbrooke, born July 6, 1878, in Croydon, we have, in
contrast to Bantock, a member of that ultra-modern English school of
composition of which Cyril Scott, ‘the English Debussy,’ is perhaps the
best known exponent. Holbrooke has attracted wide attention because
of his daring individuality and his boldness of invention, as well as
the disregard for convention shown in his brilliantly colored mode of
scoring for orchestra. He has chosen Edgar Allan Poe as his poet _par
excellence_ and his most important choral and orchestral works (among
the latter ‘The Raven’ (1900), ‘Ulalume,’ ‘The Haunted Palace,’ ‘The
Masque of the Red Death’) are associated with the verse of the American
poet.
At the Birmingham Festival of 1906 ‘The Bells,’ ‘the Mohammedan-hated
Bells’ of Poe and Holbrooke, jostled Bantock’s ‘Omar Khayyam,’ when
heard for the first time. With remarkable breadth of tonal laying-out,
and an incessant employment of chords of the eleventh and thirteenth,
the resonant clamor of the bells is brought out in the work with
clever programmatic effect, in perfect accord with Poe’s words. A
long orchestral prelude leads weirdly over into the first chorus, in
A minor. Following this come four choral numbers, ‘Sledge-Bells,’
‘Wedding-Bells’ (female voices), ‘Alarm Bells’ and ‘Iron Bells,’ each
ringing the changes on the titular suggestion in appropriate tonal
inflections. Holbrooke’s choral effects throughout are incisive and are
heightened by a remarkable fidelity to his text.
‘Byron’ (Poem No. 6) for chorus and orchestra, given at Leeds,
Dec. 7, 1904, is a setting of Keats’ ‘Sonnet to Byron,’ beginning
‘Byron, how sweetly sad thy melody.’ As regards form it is modelled
somewhat on Beethoven’s ‘Choral Symphony,’ but the orchestra is more
continuously active and its relation to the poem more intimate. The
orchestra section, in fact, is about half the work and it may be played
separately as a symphonic poem without its choral complement, a _coda_
being provided for the purpose. There is some beautiful passage-work
for the clarinet in the orchestral score and the part-writing is worthy
of all praise.
‘Queen Mab’ (Poem No. 5) for chorus and orchestra, also heard at
Leeds (1904), is only incidentally choral and interest is largely
centred in the orchestral part. The ‘Dramatic Choral Symphony’
(homage to E. A. Poe), written around quotations from Poe’s writings
and philosophical in trend, may be said to suffer to some extent
from the difficulty of effectively setting philosophical reflection
to music. This disadvantage is even more marked in ‘Apollo and the
Seaman,’ a ‘Dramatic Symphony with Choral Ending for Male Choir,’
which was produced in Queen’s Hall, London, in 1908. To quote a French
critic:[88] ‘Mr. Holbrooke, eager to show his originality, had this
“illuminated symphony” given in quite a special way. Scriabine had
already added chord projections of light to his orchestra, and thought
of joining perfumes to them in his future scores. Mr. Holbrooke was
content with a projection of the magic-lantern kind. Queen’s Hall
was plunged into obscurity and the text of Mr. Trench’s poem was
projected on the sheet, Mr. Holbrooke’s chords sounding forth in the
meantime. Then, announced by the stroke of a gong, there appeared an
enormous head of Apollo and, after a long pedal-point suggesting the
beginning of _Rheingold_, the seance went on, proving conclusively
that there is nothing less musical (save possibly Nietzsche) than this
dialogue between a sailor and Apollo, disguised as a merchant, upon the
immortality of the soul and other poetic topics.’
Joseph Holbrooke has written a number of individual anthems and
choruses in addition to these larger works, among them the ‘dramatic
choral song (No. 2)’ entitled ‘To Zanthe’ (words by Poe), not to forget
the choruses in his opera ‘The Children of Don and Dylan.’ That his is
a great talent is not to be denied; yet the consensus of opinion seems
to agree that he has not as yet ‘found’ himself.
Before passing on to a consideration of the work of Henry Walford
Davies, whose musical sympathies are those of the Elgarian school
rather than those of the English modernists, we will refer, briefly, to
the choral compositions of the younger English followers of Scott and
Holbrooke.
Gustav von Holst, born 1874, in Cheltenham, a pupil of Stanford,
has written some notable works: an _Ave Maria_ for eight-part female
chorus; female choruses with orchestra in the masque ‘The Vision of
Dame Christian’ (1909); various cantatas and a fine tetralogy of
settings from the sacred books of India, the hymns from the Rig-Veda,
for chorus and orchestra.
Percy Grainger, born July 8, 1882, at Brighton, near Melbourne,
Australia, has also contributed some charming lighter numbers, in
unusual combinations, to modern English choral literature. Among them
are his Kipling Choruses: the ‘Father and Daughter,’ the old Faröe
Island ballad, arranged for five solo voices (male), chorus, strings,
brass, mandolins and guitars; and the sparkling ‘Strathspey,’ combined
with several jigs and the fine old sea chanty, ‘What shall we do with
a drunken sailor,’ sung by male quartet to the accompaniment of eight
strings, two guitars, xylophone, flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon and
concertina.
Ralph Vaughan Williams, born at Down Amprey, Oct. 12, 1872, supplies,
as it were, a connecting link between the Elgarians and the
post-Elgarians, the more academic and the more revolutionary among
present-day English composers. His principal choral works are: ‘Willow
Wood,’ a cantata (Liverpool, 1909), and two extended compositions for
voices and orchestra, ‘A Sea Symphony’ and ‘Toward the Unknown Regions’
(Leeds Festival, 1907), both to poems by Walt Whitman, who with
Williams seems to take the place that Poe does with Holbrooke.
In Henry Walford Davies, born Sept. 6, 1869, at Ostwestry, we have
another composer of serious choral music along traditional lines,
yet one not unaffected by modern tendencies. His music is rich in
expression, artistic conscientiousness and idealism, and his two
most important works are undoubtedly the oratorio ‘The Temple,’ and
‘Everyman,’ a musical setting of a mediæval morality, the original
suggestion for which, like that of similar choral works in modern
Germany, no doubt came from France. The text, with few exceptions, has
been taken from the old English morality play: God commands Death to
bring Everyman (that is, Man in general) before Him for judgment. In
vain Everyman seeks companions among his servants, friends and ‘the
rich’ for a journey whence none return; yet at length finds ready to
accompany him (after lengthy moral disquisitions) comrades in the shape
of ‘Good Deeds,’ ‘Knowledge,’ ‘Discretion,’ ‘Strength,’ ‘Beauty’ and
‘Five Wits.’ The choral music throughout is spontaneous, vivid and
realistic. ‘Everyman’ was composed for the Leeds Festival of 1904,
at which it scored a marked success. A short prelude of thirty-two
measures is the keynote to the entire work and leads directly to a
prologue (addressed to the audience), delivered by bass, contralto,
soprano and tenor. The chorus of ‘laughing, feasting rich men,
reclining upon their cushions, is a splendid bit of musical realism,
which shows better than any theoretical disquisition how standards
of taste in English oratorio have satisfactorily rid themselves of
Puritanic influences in the course of years.’[89] Davies’ biblical
oratorio, ‘The Temple’ (Worcester Festival, 1902), is an oratorio
pure and simple, austerely beautiful and rather complex in its choral
writing, but lacking, perhaps, the inspirational freshness of its more
dramatic successor. ‘The Song of Thanksgiving’ is generally considered
the finest single number in the score.
Davies has also composed: ‘Hervé Riel’ (Browning) for baritone solo,
chorus and orchestra (Royal College of Music, 1895); ‘Four Songs
of Innocence’ (part-songs for female voices, 1894); ‘Ode to Time’
(baritone solo, chorus and orchestra) and ‘Noble Numbers’ (a cycle of
18 songs for solo voices, chorus and orchestra); ‘The Three Jovial
Huntsmen’ (cantata with orchestra, 1900); a ‘Morning and Evening
Service’ and a ‘Cathedral Service’ and ‘Lift up your hearts’ (Hereford
Music Festival, 1906).
Among other names which seem to call for mention in connection with
recent English choral writing are: Bradley Rootham (a fine cantata
to Charles Kingsley’s ‘Andromeda,’ for solos, chorus and orchestra);
Alexander M. McLean (a cantata, ‘The Annunciation,’ influenced by
Reger, 1909); Henry Wood (‘Elijah,’ 1902); Alfred Herbert Brewer
(‘The Holy Innocents,’ oratorio, 1904, ‘Emmaus’); Harvey Lohr, F. W.
Humberston and C. Lee Williams.
VI
Conditions in contemporaneous American choral writing are quite
analogous to those in England. Several of our most prominent choral
writers had already won substantial recognition before the twentieth
century opened. Foremost among these elder composers who have continued
to write in the concert forms of oratorio and cantata are George
W. Chadwick (born 1854) and Horatio W. Parker (born 1863). But a
host of younger composers has arisen to seek artistic preferment in
this field. This augmented interest is no doubt due in part to the
remarkable increase in the number of choral societies in the United
States beginning in the last decade of the nineteenth century and the
consequent increase in the demand for choral novelties; but it is due
in still larger part to the increased interest in composition itself
in the United States, an interest that has been fostered and nourished
by a noticeably greater willingness on the part of the American public
in the most recent years to receive with some favor really meritorious
works by native composers. This meed of home recognition, the greatest
possible stimulus to all creative purpose, will no doubt increase in
measure with the years.
Horatio Parker has added several to his already long list of choral
works given in Chapter VI: ‘King Gorm the Grim’ (1908), a fiery choral
ballad on a Danish theme (words after Theodor Fontane); ‘The Leap of
Roushan Beg’ (1913), a ballad for men’s voices with tenor solo (poem
by Longfellow); ‘Alice Brand’ (1913), a short cantata for three-part
female chorus with solos (poem by Sir Walter Scott); and ‘A Song of
Times,’ a short cantata for chorus and orchestra.
In ‘Morven and the Grail,’ Parker has produced his largest choral
work since the _Hora Novissima_ and ‘Legend of St. Christopher.’
This oratorio was written for the Centenary Festival of the Handel
and Haydn Society of Boston, April 11-15, 1915. It calls for four
soloists--Morven, baritone; Sigurd, tenor; St. Cecilia, soprano; Our
Lady, alto; Angels of the Grail, a second solo quartet. The poem by
Brian Hooker is a work of unusual charm and has accompanying it a
quaint synopsis of the story, relating how ‘Morven, seafaring upon
the quest of the Grail, heareth the Angels thereof calling to him,
and will follow the world’s dream even unto the end of the world. He
cometh to Avalon, the heaven of Pleasure, and there for a time abideth
in bliss.’ But hearing Sigurd, the Volsung, riding against the Dragon
and realizing that man can not be content forever in joy, he departeth
and cometh to Valhalla of the Old Gods, where he abideth in glory
until, ‘hearing in his soul as it were the voice of St. Cecilia hymning
Christ her Lord,’ he proceedeth to the Saints in Paradise, the heaven
of holiness, where again for a time he abideth in peace. In spirit he
heareth ‘Our Lady communing with her child new-born into the world’ and
learneth that man may not forever content himself at rest and that the
desire of the soul is not to be found in Paradise, nor in any place,
but that it followeth everywhere; ‘wherefore he will depart out of that
heaven to be born again and become as a little child.’ The heavens
being then opened to him, in a vision he heareth the song of the Grail
and the Angels singing of man, living on ‘between Hell and Heaven in
wonder everlasting.’ The closing argument is as follows: ‘And forasmuch
as God of His own heart so imagineth all things that they die and
rise again, therefore shall the earth declare the glory of God, world
without end.’
George W. Chadwick has written in nearly all the larger forms of
choral, orchestral and chamber music. In the opening years of the
century he wrote two choral works of large dimensions, ‘Judith’ and
‘Noël,’ both in oratorio form, though the action of the first is so
intense and dramatic that it could well be performed with full operatic
machinery. Both are conceived in the form of the classical oratorio,
though Chadwick’s musical vocabulary is clearly modern, his harmony
being rich, warm and distinctly individual. ‘Judith’ is a work of
massive proportions, one of the few great choral works yet produced
in America. ‘Noël’ is simpler in structure, yet contains numbers of
compelling beauty.
‘Judith,’ a lyric drama in three acts, was published in 1901.
The persons represented are Judith, mezzo-soprano; Achior, tenor;
Holofernes, baritone; Ozias, bass; and Sentinel, tenor. The text by
William Chauncey Langdon is cast in three acts. The first, in Bethulia,
pictures the sorrows of Israel beset by Asshur’s host, to which the
Israelites are about to yield when the entreaties of Ozias persuade
them to trust the Lord five days longer. Judith relates her vision, in
which her departed husband directs her to save her people by destroying
Holofernes. The second act brings her to the camp of Holofernes, who
is completely infatuated with her beauty. She insists upon becoming
his cup-bearer, and after he has partaken too freely of wine, she
(still responding to the vision) slays him with his own sword and
conceals his head in the folds of her dress as she passes the guards,
whom Holofernes had commanded to let her pass freely in and out. The
third act begins with her return to Bethulia just as Ozias once more
kneels at the wall, praying for deliverance. As she shows the head of
Holofernes there is great rejoicing and the victory of the Israelites
over the Assyrians is proclaimed.
‘Noël,’ a Christmas pastoral for four solos, chorus and orchestra,
was written for the Litchfield County (Conn.) University Club and
published in 1909. The text is compiled from various sources, most
of which are named. The work consists of twelve numbers, besides an
orchestral prelude entitled ‘The Star.’ No. 1 is a chorus, ‘This is the
month’ (words by Milton); No. 2, ‘From the eastern mountains’ (words by
Thwing), depicts the journey of the Wise Men; No. 3, ‘Long and darksome
was the night,’ is an alto solo (words by Ray Palmer, 1830); No. 4 is
a chorus for female voices, _Parvum quando cerno Deum_, the authorship
of the Latin text being unknown; No. 5 is a bass solo, ‘I was a foe to
God,’ words by Torsteegen, 1731; and No. 6 a chorus of praise, ‘Praise
Him, O ye heaven of heavens,’ with words by Prudentius, A. D. 405.
No. 7 begins the second part with ‘While to Bethlehem we are going,’
for alto solo and chorus, words by Violante de Ceo, 1601; No. 8 is a
soprano solo, ‘Hark! a voice from yonder manger,’ words by Gerhardt,
1656; No. 9 is a carol from the Latin of the fourteenth century, ‘A
child is born in Bethlehem,’ which can be sung unaccompanied; No. 10
is a tenor solo, ‘O holy Child, Thy manger streams,’ words from the
Danish; No. 11, a quartet, ‘Hither come ye heavy-hearted,’ words by
Gerhardt, 1656; and the last number, ‘How lovely shines the morning
star,’ words by Nikolai, 1597, is a stately chorale and fugue for
chorus and quartet.
VII
Henry K. Hadley (born 1871) is prominent among the group of younger
Americans who have assiduously cultivated choral writing, having
published seven or eight choral works of varying size, up to the
present time (1915). His first cantata was ‘In Music’s Praise,’
which won the prize offered in 1901 by the Oliver Ditson Company,
music-publishers. This was followed in 1904 by ‘A Legend of Granada,’
a cantata for women’s voices with soprano and baritone solos (words
by Ethel Watts Mumford). Four other cantatas for women’s voices with
various solo parts succeeded this one--‘The Fate of Princess Kiyo’
(1907), a legend of Japan (words by Edward Oxenford); ‘The Golden
Prince’ (1914); ‘The Nightingale and the Rose’ (1911); and ‘The
Princess of Ys.’
Hadley’s longest choral work is the lyric drama ‘Merlin and Vivian’
(1907), to the poem by Ethel Watts Mumford, an ambitious composition
calling for the full resources of solo, choral and orchestral forces.
It is in three parts, whose scenes are laid respectively on the ‘Isle
of Avalon,’ at King Arthur’s court, and at Castle Joyousguard. The
characters are Morgan-le-Fay, the enchantress, Queen of Avalon; Vivian,
the sorceress; King Arthur; Merlin, the enchanter, Arthur’s councilor;
Adrihim, the spirit of the architect of King Suleiman; and Ariel, the
spirit of music and light.
Frederick Shepherd Converse (born 1871), after several orchestral
works in the larger forms, entered the choral field with a composition
of oratorio dimensions, ‘Job,’ a dramatic poem for solos, chorus and
orchestra, which was composed for the fiftieth annual festival of
the Worcester (Mass.) Musical Association in 1907. The text is taken
from Job and the Psalms in the Vulgate. accompanied with an English
paraphrase. The characters represented are Job, tenor; his Friend,
baritone; a woman of Israel, mezzo-soprano; and the voice of Jehovah,
bass; the chorus represents the voices of prayer and adoration. A
preface to the work points out that ‘the dramatic motive of the poem
is the development of the moods of Job, distress under suffering,
rebellion, doubt, and final submissive understanding of the will
of God. In emotional contrast with him is the Woman of Israel, who
represents the spirit of unquestioning faith. The Friend stands, like
the three friends of the Bible story, for the spirit of conventional
piety. The chorus represents superhuman voices, which declare the glory
of God; against their sustained mood of adoration and praise beats
the contest of human emotions. The impersonal universal spirit of the
chorus is conveyed in the music by simple diatonic harmonies, the warp
upon which the solo parts are woven in modern chromatic design.’
Other choral compositions by Converse are a ‘Serenade’ (1908) for
soprano and tenor solos, male chorus and small orchestra (text by John
Macy) and ‘The Peace Pipe’ (1915), a cantata for baritone solo, mixed
chorus and orchestra to text from Longfellow’s ‘Song of Hiawatha.’
Longfellow, who has probably furnished more texts for cantatas and
choral ballads than any other one poet, is also drawn upon by Carl
Busch for his cantata, ‘The Four Winds’ (1907) (again from ‘The Song
of Hiawatha’), a lengthy work calling for soprano and tenor solos with
chorus.
Rossetter Gleason Cole (born 1866), in his lyrical idyl, ‘The Passing
of Summer’ (1902), written to a libretto by Elsie Jones Cooley,
presents a pastoral scene in which two lovers go forth at the dawning
of summer’s last day and witness gracious Summer’s farewell to all
her children--the summer winds, the falling leaves, the soft-hued
flowers--but as evening falls they rejoice that love’s flower, which
Summer had planted in their hearts, dies not. The score, which is
quite lengthy, demands soprano, tenor and contralto solos, chorus and
orchestra.
David Stanley Smith (born 1877) appears among the list of choral
writers with two short works--‘The Logos’ (The Word is Made Flesh),
published in 1908, which is a Christmas cantata for three solo voices
(The Logos, the Angel Gabriel and Mary) and chorus of angelic voices
and voices from earth; and ‘God our Life’ (1906), a sacred cantata for
general use.
FOOTNOTES:
[88] _Les Post-Elgariens_, par X.-M. Boulestin, S. I. M., Jan., 1914.
[89] Schering: _Geschichte des Oratoriums_, pp. 591-592.