THE BRASSWIND FAMILY
_The horn; the trumpet; the trombone; the bass tuba._
THE HORN
Look at the golden horn with its open bell gleaming like a big yellow
flower!
First notice the large bell that spreads out to a diameter of about
twelve inches. Then notice that there is a tube that holds the
funnel-shaped mouthpiece. If this long brass tube were straightened out
it would be over seven feet long!
This instrument is nothing but a long tube spirally coiled and ending in
a bell.
The horn is very old. It is depicted in painting and sculpture in the
monuments of Egypt, Assyria and India. It may even be the oldest of all
instruments; for it was easier to blow through the horn, or the tusk, of
an animal than to cut a reed, or stretch a string.
At any rate, the instrument is derived from the horn, or tusk, of an
animal in the small end of which people soon had the idea of placing a
mouthpiece for convenience. Even in the Middle Ages the “Olifant,” as it
was called, was a recognized musical instrument. This was the tusk of an
elephant; and it was often exquisitely carved. A few “Olifants” are in
existence.
But even though the horn of an animal was used for many centuries people
had imitated it in metal before the Christian Era. The Roman _Bucina_, or
_Buccina_, or _Cornu_, for instance, was a brass tube of great length,
curved spirally and worn around the performer’s body.
The Guilds and Corporations in the Middle Ages had horns which they blew
upon to call the members to the meetings. Many of these exist in various
museums of Europe.
Poetically we say wind the horn and sound the horn, and Tennyson in
_Locksley Hall_ writes “Sound upon the bugle horn.” More romantic is his
line “The horns of Elfland faintly blowing,” in the exquisite lyric,
beginning “The splendor falls on castle walls,” in _The Princess_.
Then there was the hunting-horn—the horn that figures in old ballad
literature and romantic tales and legends.
This hunting-horn was a long tube which was passed over the player’s
right arm, the bell projecting over his left shoulder. It was
inconvenient; and so in the Seventeenth Century the tube was wrapped
around and around itself and became a great spiral coil with a large
bell. But it was still worn around the body so as to keep the hands free.
The hunting-horn was not an instrument, however, that was heard in
drawing-rooms, or in the theatre, though it was very musical when echoing
through the woods. There was an elaborate code of calls and signals and
fanfares, which every huntsman well understood. About 1720 the horn was
introduced into the Orchestra. Bach frequently scored for it. An early
use of it is in Handel’s opera of _Radimisto_. It was used in France
by Gossec, who had to write two airs especially for the _début_ of the
famous singer and actress, Sophie Arnould (one of the wittiest women of
her time), and he actually introduced _obbligato_ parts for two horns and
two clarinets (which were also new instruments then).
But the horn was not liked: it was considered common, even vulgar. The
idea of introducing an instrument from the hunting-field into the opera!
Horrors!
After a time, however, people began to like the voice of the horn, though
it only played fanfares and flourishes. But few, however, dreamed of
writing _music_ for this instrument, until Haydn and the great Mozart saw
its possibilities and wrote beautifully for it; and they generally called
for two horns in their scores. Mozart showed the world what he thought of
this instrument by writing _three_ Concertos for it with the Orchestra.
Cherubini called for four horns in his opera of _Lodoiska_.
Schubert opened his Symphony in C (No. 9) with a beautiful passage of
eight bars for two horns in unison. Mendelssohn made a most poetic and
dreamy use of it in the _Nocturne_ in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ and
Weber has an exquisite introduction for four horns, descriptive of the
forest in the Overture to _Der Freischütz_.
“No other composer,” writes a critic, “has surpassed, or even equalled,
Weber in his masterly use of this instrument. He evidently loved it above
all other voices in the Orchestra. Besides abundant concerted music, the
effective opening of the _Overture_ to _Oberon_, the weird notes in that
of _Der Freischütz_ and the lovely _obbligato_ in the mermaid’s song will
rise into immediate remembrance. He fully appreciates its value, not only
as a melodic instrument, but as a source, whether alone, or blended with
other qualities of tone, of strange and new æsthetical effect.”[25]
In his opera of _Preciosa_ Weber calls for _eight_ horns.
“The horn,” says Berlioz, “is a noble and melancholy instrument. It
blends easily with the general harmony; and the composer—even the least
skilful—may if he choose, either make it play an important part, or a
useful, or subordinate one. No master, in my opinion, has ever known
how to avail himself of its powers more originally, more poetically,
and, at the same time, more completely than Weber. In his three finest
works—_Oberon_, _Euryanthe_ and _Freischütz_—he causes the horn to speak
a language as admirable as it is novel,—a language which Beethoven and
Méhul alone seem to have comprehended before him.
“The horn is of all orchestral instruments the one which Gluck wrote
least well for. We must, however, quote as a stroke of genius those three
notes of the horn imitating the conch of Charon in the air of _Alceste_,
‘Charon now calls thee.’ They are middle C’s, given in unison by two
horns in D-major; but the composer having conceived the idea of causing
the bells of each to be closed, it follows that the two instruments serve
mutually as a _sordino_; and the sounds, interclashing, assume a distant
accent and a cavernous quality of tone of the most strange and dramatic
effect.”
[Illustration: HORN, SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK
_Josef Franzl_]
The horn that these composers called for in their scores was the
hunting-horn to which crooks had been added to enable the performer to
play in different keys—pitch. The horn in its natural, or simple, form
was used until 1830. After that valves, or pistons, were added and the
instrument was known as the chromatic horn.
Played with a mute (_con sordino_) made of cloth, the horn produces
a dreamy effect. Walter Damrosch makes a poetic use of the horn, so
muffled, in his opera, _Cyrano_.
The horn as we see it to-day consists of a tube bent into a spiral
(for convenience of holding), comparatively narrow near the mouthpiece
and gradually widening out towards the bell. It might, therefore, be
described as a conical pipe. The air-stream blown in by the player runs
all through the tube vibrating as it goes all through the coils and
emptying out of the bell. There are no holes pierced in it anywhere. The
horn has no reed. The lips of the performer have to do all the work.
By changing the pressure of the lips on the mouthpiece the performer can
cut up the vibrations into shorter lengths (just as the finger of the
player on a violin shortens the vibration of the string) and thus he is
able to get the harmonics of the scale.
The “crooks” are moveable pieces of tubing. They are inserted into the
coils to alter the pitch. There are “crooks” for all keys.
The natural, or open, tones of the horn are not produced by means of
keys that close, or open, the finger-holes, like the clarinet, or oboe.
They depend first on the length of the tube—the longer the tube, the
deeper the tone. The length is varied by means of “crooks.” Secondly,
they depend on the muscles of the lips and the increased pressure of
breath—the greater the tension, the higher the tone.
This method of producing notes is called “over-blowing.” Thirdly, upon
the valves, which, when pressed by the fingers, produce notes of lower
and higher pitch.
The right hand of the player is always in the bell of his instrument to
prevent harsh and loud sounds and to give the tone a smooth and veiled
quality.
To play the horn _bouché_ means to stop the horn with hand, or fist. To
_force_ its tone produces a loud, brassy and even wild effect.
Now the _cor à piston_, or French horn, is merely the horn that we have
just been describing with the “crooks” _permanently attached_. The
performer passes from one key to another by pressing his finger on one,
two, or all three pistons. The French horn F is the one most frequently
used. It has a complete chromatic scale of three octaves and six notes.
The mouthpiece is a funnel-shaped tube of brass, or silver, ending in
a rounded ring of metal for the convenience of the lips. The cavity is
_cone-shaped_ downward, and not cup-shaped; and it is supposed that this
shape has something to do with the tone.
Some musicians think the older and simpler horn of Mozart, Gluck and
Beethoven more poetic in quality of tone than the modern one.
“The _timbre_ of the horn,” writes Lavignac, “may be utilized in many
ways, but great skill is necessary to use it to advantage. It is heroic
or rustic; savage or exquisitely poetic; and it is, perhaps, in the
expression of tenderness and emotion that it best develops its mysterious
qualities.”
The family of horns is complete; there are horns now in all keys. The
music for them is generally written—whatever may be their key, or that of
the Orchestra—without sharps or flats at the Clef.
In the Orchestra the horn is seldom played singly. A pair of horns, or
four horns (two pairs), are usually employed.
It seems strange that such a primitive instrument should be capable of
such poetic effects.
Wagner called for sixteen hunting-horns in the first act of _Tannhäuser_
and made an effective use of the valve-horns in the Pilgrims’ Chorus in
_Tannhäuser_. In the _Siegfried Idyll_ he tried the effect of a shake
on the horn. In the _Flying Dutchman Overture_ he has four horns play
in unison. Throughout the _Meistersinger_ and the four dramas of the
_Nibelungen Ring_, particularly in _Siegfried_, the horns have beautiful
work to do. But Wagner outdid himself and everybody else in the music
for his horns in the second act of _Tristan_. Here in the beautiful
summer night King Mark is hunting; and we hear the faint far-away horns
and their echoes ringing through the moonlight and mingling with the
soft murmur of the Orchestra. Wagner produced this beautiful result by
having six horns play behind the scenes and two in the Orchestra. It is a
poetic, musical picture.
Since Wagner’s time six or eight horns often play in the Orchestra.
Strauss uses them in a very peculiar way in _Till Eulenspiegel_, in
which they play a four-part shake. They are also conspicuous in the _Don
Quixote Variations_.
THE TRUMPET
As far back as the Eleventh Century there was a popular instrument called
the claro, clarino, or clarion. It was a short, straight, cylindrical
tube made of brass, with a cupped mouthpiece at one end and a bell at the
other.
Towards the end of the Thirteenth Century this long tube was folded up
and the sections were bound together by an ornamental cord. The word
“clarion” was used to denote this new folded instrument and the word
“trumpet” was kept for the old straight tube, which still continued in
favor.
In the clarion, therefore, we have the ancestor of the modern trumpet.
We cannot mistake its voice. Lavignac calls it “a stately and heraldic
instrument.” That is a good characterization; for when we hear the sound
of the trumpet, we picture processions, tournaments and pageants of
historic and romantic times.
“To describe it in brief, we may say it is the soprano of the horn
family. It has nearly the same harmonic scale, but moves in a region at
once higher and more restricted. It differs from the horn in that it
produces only the open sounds. Closed sounds are unknown to it; and if
attempted would produce only an unpleasant effect.
“Like the horn, the trumpet is a transposing instrument. It has a number
of crooks,[26] or lengthening pieces.
[Illustration: TRUMPET, SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK
_Carl Heinrich_]
“Of great agility, the trumpet is admirably suited to rapid figures,
_arpeggios_ and especially to repetitions of notes. Besides noisy
fanfares and strident calls, it is able to produce in _piano_, or
_pianissimo_, effects either fantastic, or of extreme sweetness.”
Berlioz says: “The quality of the trumpet tone is noble and brilliant. It
suits with warlike ideas, with cries of fury and vengeance, as with songs
of triumph. It lends itself to the expression of all energetic and lofty
and grand sentiments and to the majority of tragic accents. It may even
figure in a jocund piece, provided the joy assume a character of pomp and
grandeur.”
“The first improvement in the trumpet,” writes Carl Heinrich, “was made
by Meyer of Hamburg in the Eighteenth Century. This was a practical
mouthpiece. In 1780 Wogel added tubes by which the performer was enabled
to play in tune with other instruments. Wiedenger, the court-trumpeter in
Vienna (1801), added stops to the trumpet by means of which the player
could reach two octaves in chromatic tones. Other improvements were
made by German and French players; but it was not until the keys were
applied that the trumpet began to approach its present condition. By
the use of keys it became possible for the chromatic tones to equal the
natural ones, and for the player to perform difficult passages with ease.
The first trumpets with keys were manufactured by Sattler of Leipzig.
Striegel, who played in the Gewandhaus Orchestra of Leipzig, introduced
improvements in the bore and tubing.
“The scores of Bach and Handel often call for many trumpets. In their
day it was necessary to use a number of trumpets of different size,
because no one instrument could play all the notes required.”
THE TROMBONE
Contemporary with the clarion, or claro, was a similar instrument called
the buysine; and, like the clarion, it was a straight brass tube with a
cupped mouthpiece at one end and a bell at the other. The only difference
appears to be that the buysine was _enormously_ long.
This instrument changed in form; and as early as the Fourteenth Century
it was actually supplied with a _slide_! Though it was called _sackbut_,
it shows the beginning of our modern trombone.
The sackbut was made in several sizes. There was a whole band of these
instruments. In the Sixteenth Century there was a bass sackbut almost
identical with the trombone of to-day.
The trombone may be described as a slender brass tube bent twice upon
itself and ending in a bell. In the middle section it is double, so that
the two outer portions _slide_ upon the inner ones. We always enjoy
watching the performer on the trombone pulling out his instrument at
different lengths; and we often wonder how he knows when to stop it at
the right points.
There are _seven_ positions for this slide and they have to be learned.
There is no guide but the performer’s ear, which has to be as accurate as
that of a violinist; and, indeed, we may say that the seven positions, in
a certain sense, correspond with the positions on the violin. They are
only acquired by constant practice; and when they are once acquired, the
performer thinks no more about them but pulls his slide up and down with
an air that seems to us almost indifferent.
These seven positions of the slide each give a fundamental tone and its
harmonics.
According to an authority: “The slide, being entirely closed, that is to
say, the tube reduced to its shortest dimension, the instrument produces
(modifying with the breath and the pressure of the lips as in the horn)
the harmonics. By pulling out the slide a little, which increases the
length of the tube, we have the second position and its harmonics.”
Pulling out the tube still farther makes the third position and its
harmonics; and so on.
There are three varieties of this instrument: the alto, the tenor and the
bass. Each is written in the proper key of the voice whose name it bears.
Trombones differ from all other brasswind instruments in that they are
non-transposing, and, therefore, render the notes as they are written.
The compass of the instrument is two octaves and a sixth.
“The _timbre_ of the trombone,” writes Lavignac, “is majestic and
imposing. It is sufficiently powerful to dominate a whole Orchestra. It
produces above all things the impression of power, a power superhuman.
For the loudest passages there is no instrument more stately, noble,
imposing; but it can also become terrible, or, even _terrific_, if the
composer has so decreed; and terrific also in the softest passages. It is
mournful and full of dismay. Sometimes it has the serenity of the organ.
It can, also, according to the shades of meaning, become fierce, or
satanic; but still with undiminished grandeur and majesty. It is a superb
instrument of lofty dramatic power, which should be reserved for great
occasions; when properly introduced, its effect is overwhelming.”
Mozart understood this reserve. In _Don Giovanni_, for instance, he kept
them out of the Orchestra until the scene with the statue. They come
in, therefore, in a climax, a terrific and solemn voice from the lower
regions calling Don Giovanni to his doom. Mozart also used them very
impressively for the March of the priests and to accompany Sarastro, the
high priest, in _The Magic Flute_.
Beethoven gave the trombones much to do in the _Ninth Symphony_, where
they begin in the Trio of the _Scherzo_. Schubert uses them strikingly in
his _Symphony in C_; and Schumann in the Finale of his _First Symphony_
and also in his _Manfred Overture_.
Berlioz made a great use of this instrument. He said: “The trombone in
my opinion is the true chief of that race of wind instruments which I
distinguish as _epic_ instruments. It possesses, in an eminent degree,
both nobleness and grandeur. It has all the deep and powerful accents of
high musical poetry from the religious accent, calm and imposing, to the
wild clamors of the orgy. The composer can make it chant like a choir of
priests, threaten, lament, ring a funeral knell, raise a hymn of glory,
break forth into frantic cries, or sound a dread flourish to awaken the
dead, or to doom the living.”
As a rule there are three tenor trombones in the Orchestra, but no alto,
nor bass.
[Illustration: TROMBONE, SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK
_R. Van der Elst_]
THE BASS TUBA
This huge instrument, with the enormous bell standing upright, with
valves and horizontal mouthpiece and great coils of shining tubes, is
over three feet long! We can never mistake it; for it is the biggest
of all the brass instruments. It has the _deepest notes in the entire
Orchestra_. Its compass is immense! Four octaves! Having pistons, it can
give sharps and flats. Consequently, it is a chromatic instrument. The
sound of its voice is solemn, mysterious and lugubrious. It is very rich
in its deepest notes. If we do not try to listen for them we shall not be
able to distinguish them from the other bass instruments of the Orchestra.
The tone of the bass tuba might be described as partaking of both the
trombone and the organ. Many of the beautiful effects in Wagner’s
_Nibelungen Ring_ are due to this great tuba of five cylinders. Wagner
uses it to describe the deep, dark caverns under the Rhine and to suggest
the first heavy roll of the waves in _Das Rheingold_; and it is the
instrument on which the dragon, Fafner, speaks in _Siegfried_. It is
heavy and ponderous like Fafner’s own heavy coils; and it is dark and
deep and mysterious, just as we imagine a dragon’s voice might sound in
the forest, where his mutterings and threatenings are understood.
The bass tuba appealed very strongly to Wagner’s imagination; and the
_Rheingold_, _Walküre Siegfried_, and _Götterdämmerung_ are full of its
impressive tones.
The tuba was invented by a German composer, W. F. Wieprecht (1802-1892),
with the help of J. G. Moritz.
The bass tuba, like every other instrument, had a direct ancestor. In
some families the new generations are nobler and more refined than their
ancestors. This is the case with the tuba. As he belongs to the group of
horns and trombones, with even a slight relationship to the organ in his
deep rolling voice with more velvet in it than even the organ possesses,
the tuba might not care to be reminded that his parent is the ophicleide
and that he came down in a straight line of ancestry from the rather
commonplace and blatant Cornet Family.
The cornet is nothing more nor less than a bugle, a development of the
old post-horn. There is nothing elegant, nor distinguished about the
cornet (the old _zinke_ of Mediæval times). Quite the contrary. But
several centuries ago it was used to play the upper part in the Sackbut
group;[27] and as there was a bass sackbut, there was no need for a bass
cornet.
After a time a French priest, named Guillaume, who was canon of Auxerre,
invented the serpent. This was a huge wooden instrument covered with
leather pierced with holes on the side and furnished with a big, cupped
mouthpiece.
This serpent was _the bass of the cornet family_. It is now obsolete. It
is hanging up in the wall in the instrument-maker’s workshop facing page
40.
The serpent’s place was taken by the ophicleide, which is said to
have been invented in 1790, by Frichot, a French musician living in
London; but Regibo of Lille had made some improvements in the serpent
ten years earlier. Probably Frichot carried Regibo’s improvements a
little farther. First, the new instrument was called the serpentcleide;
afterwards by a combination of two Greek words, meaning “snake” and
“key.” Its voice was coarse and the instrument lacked suppleness.
Besides, it was difficult for the performer to play precisely in tune.
Mendelssohn wrote for it. It goes down into the depths (sixteen-foot A)
in _Elijah_ and it is used in the Clown’s March in _A Midsummer Night’s
Dream_.[28] Wagner uses it in _Rienzi_; Berlioz, in the Amen Chorus in
the _Damnation of Faust_; and Bizet, in _Carmen_.
Taste became too refined for the ophicleide; and its place was taken
by the double-bassoon until the bass tuba was brought to perfection.
The sonorous, majestic, velvety roll of the bass tuba has very little
resemblance to the race from which it came. To-day its plebeian origin
is forgotten and the bass tuba might be classed as belonging to the
trombone, or even to the horn family. It seems a little unkind to remind
it of its coarse ancestor, the serpentcleide.
“Minds have been confused,” writes Cecil Forsyth, “partly by Wagner’s
unfortunate misnomer _Tuben_ for a family of instruments only one of
which is a true tuba and partly by a number of inaccurate descriptions in
which the distinction between the whole-tube and the half-tube groups of
valve-brass have been overlooked.
“The orchestral godfather of all this group of instruments was Richard
Wagner. His intention was to introduce a new tone-color into the
orchestra akin to, but different from, that of the horns. The new
instruments were to be (and actually were) _modified horns_. In
particular they were to be strong and contrast with the trombones and
trumpets and were to have an even compass of about four octaves. Wagner’s
idea was to write eight horn parts and so arrange the parts for his new
instruments that four of his horn-players could be turned over at any
time to play them.
“The instruments were to have a bore slightly larger than that of the
horns, but much less than that of the tubas. The instruments were to be
arranged in two pairs—a small high-pitched pair and a large low-pitched
pair. They are all _modified horns_, but Wagner called them _tenor-tuben_
and _bass-tuben_. This group of the so-called Wagner tubas is made up
of two distinct types of instruments—a quartet of two high and two low
_modified horns_ and _one true tuba_.”
This is the bass tuba described above.
[Illustration: BASS TUBA, SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK
_Luca Del Negro_]