That adventurous spirit, Claudio Monteverde, who nearly three hundred
years ago made himself responsible for the first feeble utterances of an
orchestra that tried to say something for itself, divined the
possibilities of expression in varying combinations of tone-quality and
gave vigorous impulse to the germ of the symphony already existing in
the formless instrumental preludes and interludes of his predecessors
among opera-makers. His revelation of the charm that lies in exploring
the resources of instrumentation led to ever increasing demands on the
orchestra. The prelude developed into the operatic overture whose
business it became to prepare the spectator for what followed. That
music was capable of conveying an impression in her own tone-language
was apparent, and in due time the symphony rose majestic from the forge
of genius.
Prominent among the materials welded into it was the dance of obscure
origin. As the vocal aria was the result of the simple folk-song
combined with the intense craving of song's master molders for
individual expression, so instrumental music striving to walk alone,
without support from words, gained vital elements through the discovery
that various phases of mental disposition might be indicated by
alternating dance tunes differing in rhythm and movement, according to
Nature's own law of contrasts. That unity of purpose was essential to
the effectiveness of the diversity was instinctively discerned.
The touch of authority was given to this kind of music, during the last
two decades of the seventeenth century, by Arcangelo Corelli when he
presented in the camera, or private apartment, of Cardinal Ottoboni's
palace, in Rome, his idealized dance groups, thoroughly united by
harmony of mood, yet affording a wholly new tone-picture of this mood in
each of several movements. These compositions were usually written for
the harpsichord and perhaps three instruments of the viol order, the
master himself playing the leading melody on the violin. He called them
sonatas from sonare, to sound, a name originally applied to any piece
that was sounded by instruments, not sung by the human voice. They
prefigured the solo sonata, the entire class of chamber music named from
the place where they were performed, and the symphony which is a sonata
for the orchestra. Absolute music was set once for all on the right path
by them. They ushered in a new era of Art.
Purcell, in England, Domenico Scarlatti and Sammartini, in Italy, the
Bachs, in Germany, and others continued to fashion the sonata form. It
ceased to be a mere grouping of dances, the name suite being applied to
that, and struck out into independent excursions in the domain of
fancy. The prevailing melody of its monophonic style proved suitable to
furnish a subject for the most animated discussion. Three contrasting
movements were adopted, comprising a summons to attention, an appeal to
both intellect and emotions, and a lively reaction after excitement.
A German critic has jocosely remarked that the early writers meant the
sonata to show first what they could do, second what they could feel,
and third how glad they were to have finished. Time vastly increased its
importance. Two subjects, a melody in the tonic, another usually in the
dominant, came to set forth the exposition of the opening movement,
leading to a free development, with various episodes, and an assured
return to the original statement. The prevailing character being thus
defined, the story readily unfolds, aided by related keys, in a slow
movement and perhaps a minuet or scherzo, and gains its denouement in a
stirring finale, written in the original key. Each movement has its own
subjects, its individual development, with harmony of plan and idea for
a bond of union.
The name symphony, from sinfonia, a consonance of sounds, applied
originally to any selection played by a full band and later to
instrumental overtures, was given by Joseph Haydn to the orchestral
sonata form inaugurated by him. His thirty years of musical service to
the house of Esterhazy, with an orchestra increasing from 16 to 24
pieces to experiment on, as the solo virtuoso experiments on piano or
violin, brought him wholly under the spell of the instruments. Their
individual characteristics afforded him continually new suggestions in
regard to tone-coloring, and he rose often to audacity, for his time, in
his harmonic devices. Grace and spirit, originality of invention, joyous
abandon, a fancy controlled by a studious mind, a profusion of quaint
humor and a proper division of light and shade, combine to give the
dominant note to his music. His symphonies recall the fairy tale, with
its sparkling "once upon a time," and yet like it are not without their
mysterious shadows. In everything he has written is felt that faculty
of smiling amid grief and disappointment and pain that made Haydn, the
Father of the Symphony, exclaim in his old age, "Life is a charming
affair."
With Mozart, whose life-work began after, but ended before that of
Haydn, influencing and being influenced by the latter, the symphony
broadened in scope and grew richer in warmth of melodious expression,
definiteness of plan and completeness of form. His profoundly poetic
musical nature, with its high capacity for joy and sorrow and infinite
longing, was reflected in all that he wrote. By means of a generous
employment of free counterpoint, in other words a kind of polyphony in
which the various voices use different melodies in harmonious
combination, he gained a potent auxiliary in his cunning workmanship,
and emphasized the folly of rejecting the contrapuntal experiences, of,
for instance, a Sebastian Bach. Musical instruments, as well as musical
materials, were his servants in developing the glowing fancies of his
marvelously constructive brain. The crowning glory of his graceful
perfection of outline and detail is the noble spirit of serenity which
illumines all its beauty.
Beethoven further advanced the technique of the symphony, and proved its
power to "strike fire from the soul of man." Varying his themes while
repeating them, adding spice to his episodes and working out his entire
scheme with consummate skill, he was able to construct from a motive of
a few notes a mighty epic tone-poem. He translated into superb
orchestral pages the dreams of the human heart, the soul's longing for
liberty and all the holiest aspirations of the inner being. He discussed
in tones problems of man's life and destiny, ever displaying sublime
faith that Fate, however cruel, is powerless to crush the spiritual
being, the real individuality. His conflicts never fail to end in
triumph. Well may it be said that the ultimate purpose of a symphony of
Beethoven is to tell of those things from the deepest depths of which
events are mere shadows, and that as high feeling demands lofty
utterance his tonal forms are inevitably worthy of their contents.
Twenty-six years younger than Beethoven Schubert lived but a year after
he had passed away and died in 1828, two years later than Weber, and
felt the glow of the spirit of romanticism. From the perennial fount of
song within his breast there streamed fresh melodious strains through
his symphonies, the ninth and last of which, the C major, ranks him with
the great symphonists. Intense poetic sentiment, dreamy yet strong
musical individuality, romantic fulness of plan to embody in tones the
passionate emotions of a storm and stress period, and much originality
of orchestral treatment characterize the symphonies of Schumann. He
rises to towering heights in some passages, but in his daring
explorations through the tone-world he is often betrayed into a
vagueness of form, largely traceable perhaps to lack of early technical
discipline, as well as to lack of mental clarity. Ultra romanticism was
foreign to the nature and repulsive to the tastes of the refined,
elegant Mendelssohn, yet in spite of himself its influence crept gently
into his polished works. As a symphonist he displayed fertility in
picturesque sonorities, facility in tracing the outlines and filling in
the details of form, keen sense of balance of orchestral tone, thorough
scientific knowledge of his materials, and, as some one has said, became
all but a master in the highest sense. His overtures are unquestionably
romantic, and as their histrionic and scenic titles indicate, partake of
the nature of programme music.
This brings us to Hector Berlioz, the famous French symphonist, the
exponent par excellence of programme music, that is, music intended to
illustrate a special story. He lived from 1803 to 1869, and because of
his audacity in using new and startling tonal effects was called the
most flagrant musical heretic of the nineteenth century. He was the
first to impress on the world the idea of music as a definite language.
His recurrent themes, called "fixed ideas," prefigured Wagner's "leading
motives." His skill in combining instruments added new lustre to
orchestration. The personal style he created for himself was the result
of his studies of older masterpieces, above all those of Gluck which he
knew by heart, and of his philosophic researches. His four famous
symphonic works are: "Fantastic Symphony," "Grand Funeral and Triumphal
Symphony," "Harold in Italy" and "Romeo and Juliet." In a preface to the
first he thus explains his ideas: "The plan of a musical drama without
words, requires to be explained beforehand. The programme (which is
indispensable to the perfect comprehension of the work) ought therefore
to be considered in the light of the spoken text of an opera, serving to
lead up to the piece of music, and indicate the character and
expression."
From programme music came the symphonic poem of which Franz Liszt was
the creator. Although he found this culmination of the romantic ideal in
the field of instrumental music in his maturer years, he displayed in it
the full power of his genius. His great works in this line are a "Faust
Symphony," "Les Préludes," "Orpheus," "Prometheus," "Mazeppa" and
"Hamlet." Symphonic in form, although less restricted than the symphony,
these works are designed to give tone-pictures of the subjects
designated, or at least of the moods they awaken. "Mazeppa," for
instance, is described as depicting in a wild movement, rising to
frenzy, the death ride of the hero, a brief andante proclaims his
collapse, the following march, introduced by trumpet fanfares and
increasing to the noblest triumph, his elevation and coronation.
Camille Saint-Saëns, without doubt the most original and intellectual
modern French composer, who at sixty-seven years of age is still in the
midst of his activity, and who has made his own the spirit of the
classic composers, owes to the symphonic poem a great part of his
reputation, and has also written symphonies of great value. His
orchestration is distinguished by its clarity, power and exquisite
coloring. The orchestral music of Tschaikowsky, who died in 1893,
symphonies and symphonic poems, are saturated with the glowing Russian
spirit, are intensely dramatic, sometimes rising to tempestuous bursts
of passion that are only held in check by the composer's scholarly
control of his materials. A strong national flavor is also felt in the
work of Christian Sinding, the Norwegian, whose D minor symphony has
been styled "a piece born of the gloomy romanticism of the North."
Edward Grieg, known as the incarnation of the strong, vigorous, breezy
spirit of the land of the midnight sun, has put some of his most
characteristic work into symphonic poems and orchestral suites. The
first composer to convey a message from the North in tones to the
European world was Gade, the Dane, known as the Symphony Master of the
North, who was born in 1817 and died in 1890.
It is impossible to mention in a brief essay all the great workers in
symphonic forms. One Titanic spirit, Johannes Brahms, (1833-1897) who
succeeded in striking the dominant note of musical sublimity amid modern
unrest, is reserved for our final consideration. Of him Schumann said,
"This John is a prophet who will also write revelations," and he has
revealed to those who can read that high art is the abiding-place of
reason, that it is moreover compounded of profundity of feeling yoked
with profundity of intellectual mastery. Dr. Riemann writes of him,
"From Bach he inherited the depth, from Haydn, the humor, from Mozart,
the charm, from Beethoven, the strength, from Schubert, the intimateness
of his art. Truly a wonderfully gifted nature that was able to absorb
such a fulness of great gifts and still not lose the best of gifts--the
strong individuality which makes the master."
Wonderful is the power of instrumental music, absolute music without
words, that may convey impressions, deep and lasting, no words could
give. All hail to the memory of Johannes Brahms, who has reminded us of
its true mission and delivered a message that will ring through the
twentieth century.
[Transcriber's Note: In the caption for the illustration featuring
Ms. Nordica, the spelling of her first name was corrected from "Lilian"
to "Lillian."]