chromatic progressions both melodic and harmonic, of enharmonic
modulations, and a certain kind of constantly repeated phrase and
cadence, these it is which prevent Spohr from occupying a place of the
first rank among composers. His works for the violin, as a performer
on which instrument he occupied a most distinguished position, are,
however, of the highest order, and as a composer of chamber music, with
which we are here chiefly concerned, his double quartetts, especially
the earlier ones, display his powers in the most favourable light.
In his ordinary quartetts, however, the leading violin is, generally
speaking, used with undue importance. Still, when all is said, the
fact remains that these works uphold a high and dignified standard,
and while not in any sense an epoch maker in music, Spohr undoubtedly
exerted a most beneficial influence on the art. His chief chamber music
compositions are:—33 String Quartetts, 8 Quintetts, 4 Double Quartetts,
5 Piano Trios, 2 Sextetts, 1 Septett, 1 Octett, and 1 Nonett; also
Duets for 2 violins, violin and harp, violin and piano, etc. There
is also a Concerto for String Quartett, op. 131, with orchestral
accompaniment.
[Illustration: BRAHMS.
(_Photo of a Bust._)]
CHAPTER VII.
BRAHMS AND DVOŘÁK.
Opinions of Brahms—Weingartner—H.T. Finck—Bülow on
Rubinstein—H. Davey—Schumann—W.J. Henderson—Philip
Spitta—Sir Hubert Parry—W.H. Hadow—Piano Trio, op. 8: two
versions—Horn Trio, op. 40—String Sextett in B♭—String
Sextett in G major—Piano Quartett in G minor—Quintett in
F minor—String Quartetts—Thematic resemblances—String
Quintetts—Clarinet Quintett—Dvořák—Revival of Bohemian
music—Birthplace and early career—Criticisms on his
works—His symphonic poems for orchestra—An American
national style of music—The Negro Quartett—String
Quartetts—Piano Quartetts—Piano Trios—String Sextett—Other
chamber music.
The individuality of Brahms (1833-97) was quite as pronounced as that
of Spohr, although in a different way, but his creative musical powers
were much greater. It is sometimes said that Schumann is the one great
composer since Beethoven; but when we shall have arrived at that point
of time from which Brahms’s position can be adequately reviewed, the
extreme probability is that he will then be regarded as the great one,
rather than Schumann, or any of the others who have lived and laboured
since the death of the Bonn master.
[Sidenote: =Opinions of Brahms=]
[Sidenote: =Weingartner=]
Wagner, of course, is not to be reckoned with in this connection. His
work was of an altogether different order, and no useful purpose is
served in discussing him along with the composers of absolute music.
This favourable opinion of Brahms is not, however, shared by some
critics, and as it is well to hear both sides, some of the opposing
views may usefully be quoted. The well-known German composer-conductor
Felix Weingartner, in a recently published article on the
post-Beethoven symphonists, says:—“Brahms was, above all, a master of
form. His works are of an unimpeachable technical perfection, but I
have only discerned a warm, palpitating feeling of life in a very few
of them, which then has great value, owing to the junction of beautiful
thoughts and a perfect construction.... Taken altogether Brahms’s is,
I might say, scientific music, composed of sonorous forms and phrases;
it is not the language of humanity, mysterious, but still infinitely
expressive and comprehensible.... The music of our great masters is
artistic, and, as such, natural; that of Brahms is artificial.... The
works of Brahms which attract me most, such as, for instance, the
Symphony in D major, are not esteemed as the summit of his creative
power by his enthusiastic partisans. They give the preference to
several others, such as the Triumphlied, the E minor Symphony, and the
Clarinet-Quintett, which, to me, are loud-sounding hollownesses.”
[Sidenote: =H.T. Finck=]
Henry T. Finck,[26] the American critic, disputes the position usually
ascribed to Brahms. After implying that Schumann was already affected
by a growing mental malady when he so strongly advocated Brahms’s
works, Mr. Finck goes on to say that, “it was not until it occurred
to his admirers to pit him against Wagner that Brahms began to loom
up as a big man.... In England another violent enemy of Wagner[27]
and intimate friend of Brahms’s, Joachim, championed Brahms’s cause
and helped him to a temporary vogue.... It was a very clever bit
of strategy thus to pit Brahms against Wagner, for it gave him a
prominence which otherwise he would never have had.... In chamber music
Brahms holds his own against any modern rival; but his symphonies,
while cleverly constructed, have not one tithe of the ideas to be found
in Rubinstein’s Dramatic and Ocean Symphonies; and the same lack of
ideas we note in his songs, as compared with Franz’s. Yet Brahms’s
symphonies and songs are to-day on all concert programmes, while Franz
and Rubinstein are neglected. But it will not remain so.... Ideas alone
confer immortality on works of art; and genius might be defined as the
faculty for originating ideas. Brahms was a great dress-maker—a musical
Worth. No one ever knew better than he how to cut and shape musical
garments, and to trim them with elegant variations. But his faculty for
originating ideas was weak, and therefore he is not immortal.”
[Footnote 26: _Songs and Song-writers_, p. 155.]
[Footnote 27: The “explanation” (_erklärung_) with regard to
the new and the old schools of musical composition, which Brahms and
Joachim published in 1860, conclusively shows that neither of these
artists was “a violent enemy” of Wagner or of his art.]
[Sidenote: =Bülow on Rubinstein=]
This is plain-speaking, but it should be received with caution, when
we call to mind that this writer allows himself the licence at times
to make such loose statements as that Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony is
twice as long as any symphony preceding it, and especially in view of
his over-confident assertion about Rubinstein’s unending symphonies.
Some of us do not forget Hans von Bülow’s caustic wit in this matter.
“Rubinstein’s works,” he said, “remind me of a journey in Russia. Long
stretches of barren and tiresome country, relieved here and there with
the oasis of a picturesque and interesting city.”
[Sidenote: =H. Davey=]
Mr. Henry Davey, in his _Student’s History of Music_, gives his
opinion thus:—“There is, however, one German composer who stands out
above the rest, and has been sometimes spoken of as if he were really
a genius worthy to rank with the greatest. This is Johannes Brahms,
born in 1833 at Altona, and introduced to the world by Schumann. He
has published more than one hundred works, very clever and, generally,
very dry. They are laboured in the bad sense of the word. Brahms
with splendid gifts seems to have gone early on the wrong tack,
imagining that the more abstruse he made his works the better they
would be. Consequently he tangled up his themes with a complication
of uneven rhythms, ravelling very ordinary ideas with skeins of harsh
counterpoint; in fact, making his works as unpopular as possible,
apparently with the idea that if they were unpopular they must
necessarily be good.”
Another critic,[28] whose words are curiously like those just quoted,
says:—“When Brahms writes musically he is usually not profound; and
when he writes profoundly, he is, sometimes, not musical.... Take
the opening theme (of op. 115): would not anybody without the time
direction take it to be a slow scherzo? He has clouded it with his
usual uneven rhythms and tangled accompaniments, but that does not
atone for the poverty of the theme.”
[Footnote 28: _The Overture_ for June 1892; review of Brahms’s op.
115.]
[Sidenote: =Schumann=]
Against these may be placed the well-known opinion of Schumann which
appeared in the _Neue Zeitschrift für Musik_ in 1853. It is
needless to repeat all that Schumann said. How he found in Brahms’s
works a likeness to “some onward foaming flood, bearing on the surface
of its waves as they dashed downward, the peaceful rainbow, and
surrounded on the bank by butterflies and nightingales’ voices. When
this composer sinks his magic wand to where the powers of the masses in
the orchestra and chorus lend him their strength, we shall find still
more wonderful glances into the secret of the spirit-world in store for
us.” Such words from one of the standing of Robert Schumann, poetically
expressed though they be, may not be passed idly by.
[Sidenote: =W.J. Henderson=]
To this may be added the view of another competent and thoughtful
writer.[29] “Brahms’s compositions show a completeness of architectonic
detail, superimposed upon a symmetrical and inevitable organic
development, such as are to be found in those of no other symphonist
except Beethoven.... Some day, I think, if not soon, the world will see
how profoundly representative of his nation and his time Brahms was,
and he will be hailed, as Milton was, an organ voice of his country....
It may take time for the entire musical world to come under the spell
of this austere utterance; but Brahms had the happiness of knowing ere
he died that, wherever music was cultivated, his individuality at least
had made itself known.”
[Footnote 29: W.J. Henderson, _How Music Developed_.]
[Sidenote: =Philip Spitta=]
In his _Essay on Brahms_ (Paetel, Berlin), the well-known
author of the monumental life of John Sebastian Bach, Philip Spitta,
says:—“The leading characteristics of Brahms’s music are all plainly
visible in his first ten works. A manliness that is almost brusque, a
dislike for purely emotional music, stern conciseness in the melodic
matter, a delight in organic structure, particularly by the use of
strict polyphony, all combining with the freer style of Beethoven
to produce entirely new results. The serious underlying feeling, a
sense of depth, and a shrouded exquisite beauty of sentiment under
a dignified reserve.... Such a complete comprehension of all the
forms and means of musical expression as we find in Brahms, and the
way to apply them in the forms of composition he affected, is really
stupendous, and in its way quite unprecedented.”
[Sidenote: =Sir Hubert Parry=]
Speaking of the modern tendencies in music, Sir Hubert Parry[30]
says:—“And even in the highest branches of art, represented by the
noble symphonies of Brahms, which illustrate the loftiest standard
of style of the day, the significant change from the old ideals is
noticeable. For the aim is but rarely after what is equivalent to
external beauty in music. What beauty is aimed at is beauty of thought,
the beauty of nobleness, and high musical intelligence.”
[Footnote 30: _The Art of Music_, p. 333.]
[Sidenote: =W.H. Hadow=]
The personal note is added by Mr. Hadow[31] when he recites the story
of Brahms taking up his residence in Vienna, the city of high musical
activity, in 1862. “As yet his compositions were little known, but
there was no musician in Vienna who had not heard his name or felt some
expectation at his arrival. Before long, introduction had ripened into
acquaintance, and acquaintance into a many-sided friendship. Men were
glad to welcome a new genius of conspicuous power and encyclopædic
knowledge, who never spoke of himself, who never wrote a line in his
own defence, who never attacked an opponent, or depreciated a rival.
Add to this the quiet voice, the undemonstrative manner, the kindly
disposition that expended itself in a thousand services, the upright
honesty that would never stoop even to conquer, and it is not hard
to explain a personal popularity which has lasted unimpaired to the
present day. The artist is too often to be described in Mr. Stevenson’s
phrase, as ‘a man who sows hurry and reaps indigestion.’... It is
not a little refreshing to contemplate a genius who, with all the
astonishing amount that he accomplished, yet found time to enjoy his
dinner, to bear his part in the company of his friends, and to become
the sworn ally of all the children in the neighbourhood.”
[Footnote 31: _Studies in Modern Music_, p. 251.]
An examination of the list of Brahms’s works shows that he found a
congenial field for his labours in the department of chamber music.
His works for Piano Solo number 23, amongst them being the remarkable
Sonatas op. 1 and 2, which were probably among the compositions that
drew from Schumann his highly appreciative notices of Brahms. There
are seven Duet Sonatas, viz.: three for piano and violin (truly great
works), two for piano and ’cello, and two for piano and clarinet. The
last-named, op. 120, are almost his final compositions, and contain
some admirable music, especially that in E♭, No. 2. The andante of No.
1 is also a beautiful and characteristic movement, by which is meant
that its beauty is no mere prettiness, but rather a noble expression of
the composer’s best thought.
[Illustration: P. Tschaïkovsky [signature]]
[Sidenote: =Piano Trio, op. 8: Two Versions=]
There are also seventeen other chamber music works, many of them being
of the highest importance. The Trio op. 8, for piano, violin, and
’cello, may be named first, seeing that after a lapse of nearly forty
years Brahms, with a rare sense of self-criticism, re-wrote the work
and published the new edition, thus, as it were, opening to us quite
freely the windows of his workshop. Each movement of the trio has
undergone some change, the chief of these being the first allegro con
brio, which is shortened by some two hundred bars, the melodious second
subject of the original version being replaced by other matter, and a
fugal episode, based on this subject, which on second thoughts Brahms
evidently rejected as incongruous, is eliminated altogether. The next
movement, a scherzo, remains, save as to slight details, unaltered
until the last thirty bars. In these the treatment is different from
the first edition, a series of descending chromatic chords in the piano
part being replaced by passages evolved from previously-used themes,
and the string parts are radically altered. The adagio has undergone a
considerable amount of alteration. In place of the second subject an
entirely new theme appears; the allegro episode (Doppio Movimento) is
discarded, and the length of the whole movement curtailed by more than
one-third. The finale, originally marked “allegro molto agitato,” is
marked “allegro” only, and instead of 518 bars, it has now only 322.
New thematic matter replaces that which is omitted, and generally
speaking the whole movement is a good deal transformed.
We have here a somewhat rare, although of course by no means unique,
opportunity of comparing the treatment of similar musical ideas by
a great master at two different periods of his career, and while no
doubt the changes of some of the original themes for others is of
interest, the chief lesson which this revised version enforces, is that
of conciseness of musical utterance. The first edition contains more
passages of melodic beauty (or, may we say, more tunes approximating
to prettiness?), and much more of scholarly working out; but for all
this there can be little doubt that Brahms perceived the organic
weakness which arises out of this diffuseness, however charming the
subject-matter may have been in itself, and hence arose the artistic
impulse to rewrite the work.
It would be interesting if some of our chamber music artists were to
perform the two versions at the same concert.
The other Trios are: op. 40 in E♭, for piano, violin, and horn; op. 114
for piano, clarinet, and ’cello, which is not generally regarded as a
satisfactory work; and the two for the ordinary combination of piano,
violin, and ’cello, op. 87 and op. 101, both of which are fine works.
[Sidenote: =Horn Trio, op. 40=]
The Horn Trio, op. 40, may be regarded as specially individualised
in style, and if one of a composer’s works more than another, may be
spoken of as revealing the man himself, this trio certainly seems
to do so with Brahms. There is a dignified simplicity and _al
fresco_-like charm about the commencement of the work, which, with
here and there a touch of sombreness, continues until we reach the
scherzo, a busy movement alive with bright and joyous hunting-horn
effects.
It is, however, in the “Adagio mesto” that we find the strong
individuality of the composer, and a deeply-brooding and fateful
expression of feeling, which is, in a certain mood, more peculiarly a
characteristic of Brahms than any other quality which he possesses. The
whole work, and especially this adagio, is well worthy of sympathetic
study.
[Sidenote: =String Sextett in B♭=]
The String Sextett in B♭, op. 18, has often been spoken of as one of
the finest specimens of Brahms’s earlier compositions. One writer
has called it “the most magnificent piece of chamber music that has
appeared since the death of Beethoven.” Its production at Vienna in
1862 under the famous quartett leader, Hellmesberger, was followed by
an outburst of enthusiasm, which was all the more remarkable seeing
that prior to this the critics had received Brahms’s works with marked
coldness.
[Sidenote: =String Sextett in G Major=]
The other String Sextett, op. 36, in G major, was also given under the
same leader in the Vienna winter season of 1867, and, in the words
of one report of the concert, “It is no discredit to either composer
or audience that the new work was received with more astonishment
than delight. The extremely elaborate polyphony, which is one of its
distinguishing attributes, is probably too intricate to be comprehended
by any one at a single presentation, and we may infer that the public
actually did not hear the melodies for the simple reason of their
abundance.” The charming second subject of the first movement (quoted
below) well illustrates the latter part of this statement—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 36.]
while an examination of the score reveals a wealth of material which
can only be assessed by patient and loving study.
[Sidenote: =Piano Quartett in G Minor=]
It was in his Piano Quartett, op. 25, in G minor, that Brahms made
his first appearance in Vienna, after he took up his residence there
in 1862, and although the work is now regarded as an intelligible
and convincing piece of chamber music, it was at first received with
strong disapprobation by the Viennese musical public. “Dull and
ill-developed,” were the terms applied to the first three movements;
and the last, because of its being written in Hungarian dance style,
was condemned as without precedent and artistically bad. That Haydn,
Mozart, and Beethoven had already introduced such movements into their
chamber music was either unknown to these critics, or ignored by them.
The andante of this quartett contains some of its author’s noblest
thoughts, expressed with the utmost clearness. Special attention may be
directed to the middle section in C major of this movement, with its
strongly-marked military rhythm and highly characteristic effects.
The other two compositions in this form are that in A major, op. 26,
and in C minor, op. 60. In the commencement of the former we have a
fine example of poetic expression, yet at the close the same material
is worked out, in a contrapuntal manner, which is quite remarkable.
The slow movement of this Quartett has been referred to by Mr. Fuller
Maitland as an example of “exquisite tone colour,”[32] and this work,
and that in G minor already referred to, are regarded by this writer as
“among the loveliest of Brahms’s works.”
[Footnote 32: _Masters of German Music_, p. 20.]
The Piano Quartett in C minor, op. 60, does not show the same high
qualities as the other two, and is indeed somewhat lacking in
spontaneity. The second entry of the strings in the opening movement
has a chromatic passage which is more like Spohr than Brahms, nor is
the chorale which appears in the last movement at all in his usual
style.
[Sidenote: =Quintett in F Minor=]
Of the works for piano and strings, the great Quintett in F minor,
op. 34, is a remarkable example. It has been said that Brahms has the
gift of making simplicity memorable, and this is illustrated by the
commencement of this quintett. To hear it once is to be impressed
with its power, and although viewed theoretically it seems almost
commonplace, it produces in performance an effect which is truly vital.
The piano, first violin, and ’cello begin thus, the first three bars
being in unison and octave:—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 34.]
A little farther on in this movement we meet with a melodious fragment
very characteristic of this composer. Three notes, embraced within
the range of a minor third, are used together in contrary motion, and
furnish a theme which, although curiously simple, plays a considerable
part in the development of the movement:—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 34.]
It has been urged against the scherzo which follows that it inclines
too much to be orchestral in effect, and of the finale that it is, as
one writer has it, “overcharged with subject-matter.” But however this
may be as regards these two movements, it will hardly be disputed that
in the andante, whose opening passage is quoted below, we have music
of rare and solemn beauty, deep yet clear, profound yet spontaneous.
We quote the pianoforte part, which is accompanied with a subdued
imitative figure by the first violin and viola, while the ’cello plays
a few pizzicato bass notes:—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 34.]
[Sidenote: =String Quartetts=]
In the important form of the String Quartett Brahms has left only three
works, viz.: two (in C minor and A minor), op. 51, and one (in B♭),
op. 67. The number is few as compared with the other great masters,
and especially of course with Haydn, but the quality of each work is
remarkable. In England, at any rate, these quartetts have met with a
cautious and critical reception. The reason for this is, no doubt,
that for their true appreciation they require study and many hearings,
conditions which unfortunately are not common amongst us. Amateurs,
however, who play them, and know them intimately, will hardly share
in these adverse opinions. Some of the movements have been spoken of
as lacking in inspiration, an opinion which, if one accepts Brahms at
all, seems strange, for in none of his works does his peculiar genius
shine more clearly through the medium in which he works than in these.
One may reject Brahms altogether, falling foul of his idioms and
methods, as some do, but it is hard to understand how compositions so
characteristic as these can be rejected by any who rank themselves as
students or disciples of this master. The slow movements of all these
string quartetts may be referred to as showing with what true melodic
charm Brahms can invest his music, and this is all the more notable if
one considers the unusual manner in which the beautiful tunes are often
presented. For example, the romance of No. 1 in C minor:—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 51, NO. 1.]
Farther on, at the twenty-seventh bar:—
[Music]
And, later, the following:—
[Music]
Such music is not, however, “for the market-place.” It requires the
most delicate handling, and only perfect technique, united to the
highest taste, are equal to the expression of such lofty and beautiful
thoughts.
[Sidenote: =Thematic Resemblances=]
The resemblance of certain of Brahms’s themes to those of other
composers has often been noted, sometimes in a captious and ill-natured
spirit, whereas the true interest of such a matter lies in the
opportunity which is thereby afforded of showing how two master-minds
can deal with like material. An instance of this is the finale of his
Symphony op. 68, as compared with the leading melody of the vocal
part of Beethoven’s Choral Symphony; another, the commencement of his
A major Sonata for piano and violin, and the Preislied of Wagner’s
_Meistersinger_; and again, the following from the String Quartett
in C minor, op. 51:—
[Music: BRAHMS, OP. 51, NO. 1.]
[Music: WAGNER, “RHEINGOLD.”]
[Sidenote: =String Quintetts=]
It remains to speak of the two String Quintetts op. 88 and op. 111, and
the Quintett op. 115, for clarinet and strings.
The op. 88 was written during a summer holiday at Ischl in the year
1882. It is a masterly composition, the first movement being of an
animated and joyous character. This is followed by a slow movement
(grave ed appassionato), varied by two quicker episodes. The finale
(allegro energico) is written in free fugal form, and has an unusually
prominent part for the first viola.
The second String Quintett, op. 111, in G major, is a delightful
work, in its composer’s ripest style. There is an unusual tenderness
of expression in the melodies of the first three movements, the
lightsome allegretto being well contrasted with the sombre adagio, in
which, as in the other Quintett, an important part is assigned to the
first viola. The vivace, with which the work ends, although complex in
texture, is a vigorous and effective movement.
[Sidenote: =Clarinet Quintett=]
The Quintett for clarinet and strings, op. 115, which appeared about
the same time as the clarinet Trio which has already been mentioned,
was first heard in England in 1892, the clarinettist being the now
well-known German artist Herr Mühlfeld (Brahms’s “unsere prima donna”),
who, it is understood, came from Vienna at the desire of the composer.
This work has gradually grown more and more into favour, which is what
might be expected, for while such music makes large demands on both
performers and listeners, it amply repays study, and is indeed a rich
addition to the treasure-house of art.
To the serious student and lover of good music the works of Brahms are
a lasting delight, expressing as they do the purest and best of our
musical aspirations. What the great masters of the past did for their
day and generation Brahms has done for ours, and it is safe to say
that the sympathetic attitude of any community towards him may be taken
as a conclusive proof that its musical state and condition is sound and
true.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BOHEMIAN QUARTETT.
OSKAR NEDBAL.
_Viola._
KAREL HOFFMANN.
_1st Violin._
HANUS WIHAN.
_’Cello._
JOSEF SUK.
_2nd Violin._]
[Sidenote: =Dvořák=]
[Sidenote: =Revival of Bohemian Music=]
Two names, Smetana (1824-84) and Dvořák, are intimately associated
with the revival of music which began in Bohemia about the year 1860.
The political condition of the country had, since about 1620, been
one of national degradation. Conquered by the Emperor Ferdinand of
Austria, the people were down-trodden and oppressed, their language
prohibited, and as a result the arts practically dead. In the year
1860, however, an imperial decree appeared which granted a measure of
liberty to the people. This was speedily followed by a better state of
public affairs, in which, of course, music participated. Smetana, who
had held the appointment of conductor to the Philharmonic Society at
Gothenburg, resigned that post, and returned to Prague to assume what
was practically the direction of the newly-liberated national musical
forces. Here he found Dvořák, a young man with rapidly developing
musical powers, whose career had hitherto been one of comparative
poverty. He was of humble, although by no means ignoble birth, for if
his father had not wealth and worldly position, he at least had health
and a strong character, and in addition to this he was also somewhat
of a musician, although of a rude and uncultured sort.
[Sidenote: =Birthplace and Early Career=]
It was in the Bohemian village Nelahozeves, which is situated on the
river Moldau not far from Kralup, that Dvořák was born in the year
1841, and here he was reared, working at his father’s occupation, which
was that of an innkeeper and butcher. At the age of eighteen, however,
the musical impulses which had already made themselves evident in the
youth became too strong for parental restraint, and he left home and
went to Prague, where he obtained admission to the city organ school,
and, that he might earn enough to keep body and soul together, he
played violin and viola in the orchestras of both church and theatre.
Under the tuition which he here obtained his powers rapidly developed,
and during this time he seems to have composed a great deal. Happily he
now learned of the Austrian state aid which was to be obtained by needy
artists, and making application, a stipend was granted him, mainly, it
seems, through the influence of Brahms, who happened to be one of the
committee having charge of the fund. Thus relieved from the carking
cares of poverty, Dvořák gave himself up to his life-work even more
earnestly than before, with what an excellent result we now know.
That his early surroundings exerted an adverse influence on his
artistic career there can, however, hardly be a doubt, and only the
opulence of his natural powers could have triumphed over these and
given him that large measure of success to which he has eventually
attained.
[Sidenote: =Criticisms on his Works=]
We are all by this time familiar with the stages of criticism through
which his works have passed—undue length and want of conciseness, fresh
episodes instead of organic development, the continual use of national
idioms, and the like. To these must be opposed the splendid qualities
of melody, form, and colour which are found in his best works, such
as _The Stabat Mater_, _The Spectre’s Bride_, the D minor
Symphony, and the A major Piano Quintett, and no just assessment can
refuse for Dvořák a most exalted place amongst contemporary musicians.
True, the Sclav idiom pervades a number of his works, but this is, as
it were, a mere accident of his nationality, and in no way detracts
from the splendour of his achievements. We do not reject Burns because
he wrote a good deal in a Scottish dialect, or Tennyson’s “Northern
Farmer” because it requires a glossary.
Dvořák, although a lover of the romantic, has nearly always worked on
classical lines, and to him must be credited the addition of certain
new forms to the musical literature of our time. For example, “The
Furiant,” a kind of wild and riotous scherzo, and “The Dumka,” with its
alternate episodes of sadness and revelry.
[Sidenote: =His Symphonic Poems for Orchestra=]
In saying this, it is not overlooked that Dvořák has recently
published several so-called symphonic poems for the orchestra, which
are of course programme music. We allude to “Der Wassermann,” “Die
Mittagshexe,” and “Das Goldene Spinnrad.” These are works of no
ordinary kind, and there is in them no want of melody and orchestral
colour. Yet they cannot be regarded as entirely successful. This form
does not seem to be the composer’s true medium, although the works are
deeply interesting as showing the effect of modern influences on a
receptive and sensitive musical temperament.
[Sidenote: =An American National Style of Music=]
[Sidenote: =The Negro Quartett=]
During his residence in New York as director of the National
Conservatoire, from 1892 to 1895, Dvořák conceived the idea of an
American School of National Music based on negro songs and dances.
From the standpoint of the negro question and of national pride it was
hardly a happy notion, yet he must be credited with a large measure of
success in his efforts to carry it out, for in the String Quartett in
F, op. 96, and in the Orchestral Symphony in E minor (“From the New
World”), are to be found a remarkable idealisation of tunes hitherto
more associated with the clog-dance than with the classics.[33] The
whole of this Negro Quartett, as it has been called, will repay study,
but the chief point of interest is, of course, the employment of those
tunes which are either directly drawn or closely imitated from negro
sources.
[Footnote 33: The String Quintett in E♭, op. 97, may also be mentioned
in this connection.]
[Music: 1ST MOVEMENT, STRING QUARTETT, OP. 96.
DVOŘÁK.]
[Music: FINALE, STRING QUARTETT, OP. 96.
DVOŘÁK.]
[Music: 1ST MOVEMENT, FROM “THE NEW WORLD SYMPHONY.”
DVOŘÁK.]
[Sidenote: =String Quartetts=]
Of the String Quartetts that in E♭, op. 51, is the best known, and,
along with the Negro Quartett from which quotations have just been
made, is the most frequently performed. The second movement of the
E♭ Quartett is an exquisite example of the Dumka or Elegy, and is one
of the most charming things which Dvořák has given to the world. The
melodic substance of the work is chiefly Sclavonic in character, but
the genius of the composer has transformed and ennobled that which
otherwise would have remained as the rough material of a mere musical
dialect. The other String Quartetts, which include op. 105 and 106, are
less interesting, especially the A minor op. 16, and the D minor op.
34, in which the tunes and the general feeling are much below the usual
standard of Dvořák’s works.
[Sidenote: =Piano Quartetts=]
The Piano Quartett in D, op. 23 (Schlesinger, Berlin), may be
recommended to amateurs in search of music which, while presenting
no very serious executive difficulties, is full of charm. Dvořák
has written nothing more delightful than the first movement, which
commences with a quaint theme given to the ’cello, and of which much
use is subsequently made. An interesting air with variations follows,
and the work ends with a characteristic allegretto scherzando.
The other Piano Quartett in E♭, op. 87, is much more elaborate, and
abounds with passages skilfully worked out, but the themes are of less
interest and indeed at times almost commonplace.
[Sidenote: =Piano Trios=]
Dvořák has written four Trios for piano, violin, and ’cello, all
of which deserve to take high rank. The first, in B♭, op. 21, is
spontaneous in style and feeling, reminding one indeed a good deal of
Mendelssohn. The adagio is more characteristic of its composer, as are
the allegretto scherzando and the finale. The whole work is well worthy
of attention.
The second, in G minor, op. 26, is also an interesting work. The
arpeggio passages in the first movement may perhaps be regarded as
ungrateful for the stringed instruments, but the remainder of the trio
is most effective, and were it for nothing else than the largo, a nobly
expressed piece of emotional music, the trio should command the highest
esteem. It is curious to notice that the opening phrase of the final
allegro strikingly resembles in rhythm the finale of Schumann’s Piano
Quartett in E♭, op. 47.
The Dumka Trio, op. 90, consists of six exquisite elegies expressed in
the form from which the trio takes its name, each episode consisting of
a slow pathetic movement, contrasted with a rapid and impetuous one.
The work is the outcome of strong national feeling, and is sincere and
convincing in its effect.
[Sidenote: =String Sextett=]
The String Sextett in A, op. 48, which has already been mentioned, is
one of the compositions whereby Dvořák’s name was introduced into
England. “This sextett,” says Mr. Joseph Bennett, who was one of
the first to recognise and urge the claims of this new voice, “is a
good example of the new composer. Its plan and method, according to
the late J.W. Davison, are altogether original; but this statement,
while perfectly true, does not represent its full claim to the rarest
of musical qualities. We find originality in the character of its
themes, especially in those of the second movement (elegy), the third
(furiant), and the fourth, which is an air (varied) of the broadest
national type, and so puzzling in key that Mr. Davison is fain to
describe it as ‘in more respects than one calculated to perplex the
ear as to its absolute tonality though virtually in A major.’ Not less
original than the themes are, in many cases, their harmonic treatment,
while nowhere is the higher mission of music neglected, in virtue of
which it appeals to an inner sense at the same time that it confers
physical and intellectual gratification. The elaboration of the
principal movements forms another striking feature in the work.... Some
of the details confer upon it an exquisite piquancy and grace; and a
first hearing of the entire composition involves a series of surprises,
so unexpected and new are the abounding touches of the master’s hand.
Clearly we must know more of Dvořák, and that soon.” These words
were written sympathetically and with prophetic insight in the year
1880, and since then we have heard _The Stabat Mater_, _The
Requiem_, _The Spectre’s Bride_, the Orchestral Symphonies, and
many other works, all of which have strongly confirmed the high hopes
here foreshadowed.
[Sidenote: =Other Chamber Music=]
In addition to what has been mentioned, the list of Dvořák’s chamber
music embraces three String Quintetts, a Serenade for wind and strings,
op. 44, a Trio for two violins and viola, op. 74, a Sonata for piano
and violin, op. 57, and a Quintett for piano and strings, op. 81, in
A major. The last-named consists of four movements, viz., an allegro,
a dumka, a furiant, and a finale in rondo form. The work is full of
vitality, and rich in those qualities which appeal alike to intellect
and heart.
That Dvořák is occasionally prodigal of his musical means and lacking
in restraint is no doubt to a certain extent true, but, in the words
of Mr. W.H. Hadow, “for all this he is a true genius, true in thought,
fertile in imagination, warm and sympathetic in temper of mind. He has
borne his part in a national cause, and has thereby won for himself a
triumph that will endure. He has enriched his people, and in doing so
has augmented the treasury of the whole world.”
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAMBER MUSIC OF THE RUSSIAN COMPOSERS.
Russian chamber music—Glinka—Quartett by
Ippolitoff-Ivanoff—Quartett by Gretchaninoff—Mozart on
melody—Russian schools of musical thought—Belaieff—String
Quartett on name Belaieff—Arensky—Trio in D minor:
Arensky—Sokoloff—Tanyeëff—Kopyloff—Tschaïkovsky.
[Sidenote: =Russian Chamber Music=]
A comparatively unexplored field presents itself in the chamber
music by Russian composers. Ippolitoff-Ivanoff, Kopyloff, Sokoloff,
Gretchaninoff, these are a few of the almost unknown names of this
school. No doubt certain chamber works by Tschaïkovsky, Arensky, and
one or two others are a little known in England, but those of the
composers named hardly at all. Glinka, César Cui, Rimsky-Korsakoff,
Liadoff, Glazounoff, and Tanyeëff are also composers whose chamber
music is deserving of serious attention, for recent musical history
contains nothing more interesting than the progress of Russian music.
[Sidenote: =Glinka=]
Glinka (1803-57) is usually regarded as the founder of the movement,
but his chief works are operatic. He was a man of remarkable character,
and did a great work for the welfare of music in Russia. His opera,
_Life for the Czar_, marks an epoch in the national artistic life.
Apart from his operas, however, he did not write a great deal, his
chamber music being limited to a Septett, two String Quartetts, and a
Trio for piano, clarinet, and oboe. Some of his orchestral pieces are
remarkable. He took a deep interest in this kind of composition, and
being a man of progressive mind he shook off the ordinary conventional
methods; and his works show this in details such as quitting the
routine which had previously made the first violins always play above
the seconds, and these above the violas. He was also in the habit of
calling the wind instruments “orchestral colour,” and the strings
“orchestral motion.”
Russian orchestral music (notably Tschaïkovsky’s Pathetic Symphony,
and other of his works) has, chiefly by the efforts of Mr. Henry J.
Wood and the Queen’s Hall Orchestra, become familiar amongst us, and
by the use of strong colour and highly emotional effects, such music
has no doubt obtained much attention, but it is very doubtful if we yet
know the best about this Russian school, for an examination of the
chamber music of the composers named above, reveals a surprising number
of works, written with true feeling and the highest technical skill.
Some of these shall be referred to in detail, but it may be observed
that many of these composers are manifestly influenced by, and have
gathered up into classical form (as did Haydn, and, to name a modern
instance, Grieg), the folk music of the common people. There seems
to be an immense wealth of this kind of musical material to be found
in Russia, often couched in quaint, irregular rhythms, but full of a
weird charm, even though strange to Western ears. That such material
should appeal strongly to the musicians of a race so powerfully
affected by their emotions as are the Sclavs is what might be expected,
and as the supply is said to be practically inexhaustible and often
of considerable artistic beauty, the further developments in this
direction will be watched with keen interest.
[Illustration: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF.]
[Illustration: ARENSKY.]
[Sidenote: =Quartett by Ippolitoff-Ivanoff=]
Our first example is a String Quartett in A minor, op. 13, by
Ippolitoff-Ivanoff (Jurgenson, Moscow). It has been said that the
Sclav temperament is one of “fiery exaltation on a basis of languid
melancholy.” Ivanoff’s quartett, in a measure, illustrates this, for it
opens with a sorrowful passage of much intensity, which, in its feeling
(not the notes), reminds one of the _Tristan_ Prelude of Wagner.
The entry of the two violins on one note, and the poignant effect
which immediately results as they separate a semitone, is a marked
and original feature of the whole work, and may indeed be regarded as
its “motto.” It reappears at the end of the first allegro, and again,
in fuller form with fine effect, just before the coda of the finale.
The commencement of Tschaïkovsky’s String Quartett in F, op. 22, has
a certain kinship to this, but the treatment and the effect are quite
different. The same may be said as to the beginning of his Quartett op.
30 in E♭ minor.
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.]
After some thirty bars of this introduction the first movement proper,
an allegro, begins with the following theme, in which it must be
admitted there is a certain excess of the semiquaver movement, used in
a fragmentary manner as an accompaniment to the leading ideas:—
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.]
This is followed by the second theme, a somewhat quaint people’s song
kind of tune, played by the first violin and viola in octaves, the
second violin keeping up the semiquaver rhythm just referred to, and
the ’cello playing quavers pizzicato.
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.]
After a considerable amount of interesting development the movement is
brought to a close with the motto theme, lento pianissimo, thus:—
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.]
The lento quoted above consists of twenty-one bars, of which only
the last eight are here given. The second movement is entitled
“Humoresca-Scherzando.” It has two principal themes, the first busy and
jocose as becomes such a movement, the second of volkslied flavour and
in good contrast to the first:—
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.
NO. 1.]
[Music: NO. 2.]
Between this scherzo and the finale stands an intermezzo (allegretto
grazioso). The melody is played by the first violin, which, along
with the second violin and viola, is muted while the ’cello plays a
pizzicato counterpoint. This is a graceful and pleasing movement, and
if less characteristic than the others, it affords a well-calculated
change of effect. The last movement (allegro risoluto) begins with
a bold passage in A minor (No. 1), joined a little later on to a
contrasted phrase (No. 2), of which much is subsequently made.
[Music: IPPOLITOFF-IVANOFF, OP. 13.
NO. 1.]
[Music: NO. 2.]
Later on another theme appears, which is worked along with those
already mentioned, and the Quartett concludes with a condensed version
of the introductory lento, or motto theme, merging into a rapid coda of
some thirty bars, based on the opening theme of the allegro. It will
hardly be gainsaid that we here have an interesting work, which, if not
absolutely great, is worthy of attention both for its own sake and as
an object lesson, showing as it does, what is being done by a nation
whose music has already exerted a powerful influence on the art.
Our second example is a String Quartett in G major, op. 2, by Alexander
Gretchaninoff.
[Sidenote: =Quartett by Gretchaninoff=]
According to some authorities the String Quartett as an art-form has
not advanced since Beethoven, he, it is asserted, having said the last
word in this style. While it may be admitted that there is a good deal
of warrant for this assertion, and that an analysis of Beethoven’s
Quartetts, from the op. 18 to say the C♯ minor op. 131, reveals a
wealth of musicianship which is no doubt disconcerting to the modern
aspirant, yet it is hardly a sufficient reason why this particular
source of musical inspiration should be regarded as closed, and that
the man of to-day should cease writing. There is still at any rate one
way in which a composer may justify himself. He may, if he can, write
genuine tunes.
Doubtless a sound knowledge of the multiform devices of harmony,
counterpoint, and the rest, is an important part of his equipment. But
such knowledge may be acquired; whereas, if devoid of true tune, his
best efforts are doomed to failure, for this tune-faculty is born with
the man, and cannot be learned from books.
[Sidenote: =Mozart on Melody=]
Mozart indeed settled the question, once and for all, when he said
“melody is the essence of music.” If we open at random the pages
of works so dissimilar, say, as Handel’s _Messiah_, Wagner’s
_Parsifal_ or Bach’s _Forty-Eight_,[34] what are we sure
(among a host of other things) to find? Is it not melody? It may not
be the conventional eight-bar tune, but in the true sense of the
word it is sure to be melody. No doubt the words “tune” and “melody”
have been used in a too restricted sense, and against this we must
guard ourselves, for melody in reality represents the chief idea
in music, and no art is worth much whose ideas are weak. Take, for
example, Beethoven’s C minor Symphony. No one would call that musical
battering-ram with which the work commences—
[Music]
a tune, in the usual meaning of that word; but, all the same, it is a
musical idea full of real vitality, which clings to the memory with all
the power of the finest tune that was ever written. It is in this light
that the later works of Beethoven, and, to name another of the giants,
those of Brahms, should be viewed.
[Footnote 34: _Das Wohltemperirte Clavier_ (The Well-tempered
Clavichord).]
No doubt a composer may produce certain effects by progressions of
harmony which can hardly be regarded as a tune. For example, the
following motive from the first act of Wagner’s _Götterdämmerung_:—
[Music]
To call this a tune would be straining language, but none the less
if a composer be possessed of what we call genius, such phrases will
(as this does) produce on the mind of the listener an effect in all
respects as vivid as that which the most fully developed melody
produces under other musical conditions. _The idea_ of a true
composer is strong, and therefore it succeeds.
But it will doubtless be in the reader’s mind to ask what all this has
to do with a String Quartett by an unknown composer. This merely, that
without claiming for him the most exalted rank, Gretchaninoff possesses
the gift of tune, and on this account, as well as by reason of his
sound musicianship, what he has done deserves attention.
This Quartett, op. 2, is in classical form, and consists of the usual
four movements. It commences with a short andante, whose opening
phrase, played by the four instruments in unison, is:—
[Music]
As in the Ivanoff Quartett previously noticed, we have here, in the
first three notes of this quotation, a motto theme. This, when the
first movement proper (allegro) is reached, is given out by the ’cello
alone in the following complete form:—
[Music]
and it is frequently met with in various shapes during the progress of
the movement. Its first three notes, modified in this way—
[Music]
are skilfully used in the scherzo to form a connecting link with the
passage which leads from the moderato to the repetition of the presto.
Also it is found at the commencement of the vivace movement with which
the work ends.
The second theme of the opening movement may also be quoted,
exemplifying as it does what has been said about the melodic interest
with which Gretchaninoff invests his work:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
The almost Italian feeling and freedom of expression here will not
escape notice; also that while there is no lack of scholarship, it is
only used as a means to an end.
[Music]
The second movement commences thus:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
This leads to a charming second theme which speaks for itself:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
The remarks on page 149 apply with equal force to the melody played by
the 2nd violin in the above extract.
[Music]
The third movement is a scherzo, full of life and vivacity. Its
first theme, given out by the viola, is heard after a few bars of
introduction, thus:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
This is developed, with much spirit and variety of treatment, until
with slackened speed it merges into a “moderato e tranquillo,” to which
reference has been made as containing, near its close, the “motto
theme.” After this the first subject of the scherzo is resumed, and
the movement runs on to a climax, in which, with excellent effect, the
original theme is given out by the violins in octaves.
The finale commences with a slow introduction, whose first notes are
made up of a unison passage in the minor mode, which is closely akin to
the motto theme. At the commencement of the vivace which follows this
introduction we again have the motto in the major mode:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
Of this theme (the motto) in various forms much use is made during the
course of the finale. Here, for instance, is an interesting passage,
the latter part of which (meno mosso) is a metamorphosis of this theme:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
The almost orchestral effect of extended unison passages such as this
and the previous example is perhaps hardly admissible in the chamber
music form. Yet in the works of the classical masters (Cherubini, for
instance) such passages may at times be found.
[Music]
Later in the movement the viola, with a quiet persistence which runs on
for a number of bars, repeats this same theme thus:—
[Music]
Another theme of melodious character may also be quoted. It appears
first in the key of E♭, and later in G, and, along with what has been
mentioned, constitutes the principal subject-matter of the movement
which ends this interesting Quartett. The following is the theme as it
first appears:—
[Music: GRETCHANINOFF, OP. 2.]
As regards the composer of this Quartett, it may be added that _Le
Ménestrel_ of July 13th of the year 1902 announced “that a new
opera, entitled _Nikita Dobriniez_, by a young and unknown
composer named Gretchaninoff, will be produced in St. Petersburg during
the coming winter season.”
[Sidenote: =Russian Schools of Musical Thought=]
The two chief cities of the Russian Empire, St. Petersburg and Moscow,
have each had its representative school of musical thought, the one at
first working almost entirely for the advancement of a purely national
style, the other, with a more eclectic taste, favouring outside ideas
and influences.
Tschaïkovsky was the leader at Moscow, having for his adherents
Arensky, Rachmaninoff, and Siloti; while Rimsky-Korsakoff, Balakireff,
Borodin, and others represented the more conservative St. Petersburg.
But along with this external division of interests there always
prevailed the utmost unanimity and a genuine feeling of brotherhood,
and one result of this may be found in their working together, in
a quite intimate way, in the composition of works like the String
Quartett based on the notes B A F, which is the joint production of
Rimsky-Korsakoff, Liadoff, Borodin, and Glazounoff.
[Sidenote: =Belaieff=]
The story runs[35] that in the year 1881, at St. Petersburg, a certain
M. Belaieff, a wealthy and enthusiastic amateur, happened to be
present at the rehearsal of the first Orchestral Symphony by Alexander
Glazounoff, and was so much impressed by its fine qualities that he
decided to remove what had hitherto been a difficulty and establish a
music-publishing house, which should have for its object the issuing of
Glazounoff’s works and those of other composers of this Russian school.
He, indeed, proved himself a very Mæcenas, organising concerts in and
out of Russia, and never tiring in his endeavours to gain a hearing for
the composers whose cause he had thus so practically espoused.
[Footnote 35: _Notes on Modern Russian Music_ (Edwin Evans).]
No wonder, therefore, that they should desire to do him honour, and in
this Quartett we find one such act of homage. As most musicians are
quite well aware, the note B♭ is in Germany called B, and B♮ is called
H; hence the possibility of writing, as has several times been done, a
fugue whose subject is the name of the great composer Bach.
[Music: B A C H]
[Sidenote: =String Quartett on Name Belaieff=]
In like manner these Russian composers took the three syllables of the
name of their friend Belaieff, and, Be standing for B♭, la for the
sixth note A of the natural scale, and eff for the note F, they used
the theme—
[Music: B la F]
as the leading motive of a composition, consisting of (1) an Allegro by
Rimsky-Korsakoff, (2) Scherzo by A. Liadoff, (3) Serenata alla Spagnola
by A. Borodin, and (4) Finale by A. Glazounoff. The composition begins
in this manner:—
[Music: N. RIMSKY-KORSAKOFF.]
Leading to the Allegro:—
[Music]
The second movement, a Scherzo, commences thus:—
[Music: A. LIADOFF.]
The usual Trio, which follows, commences thus:—
[Music]
After this the Scherzo is repeated, with considerable development.
This is the third movement, written, as the name indicates, in the
Spanish style:—
[Music: _Serenata alla Spagnola._ A. BORODIN.]
The last movement (allegro), which is perhaps the least satisfactory
of the set, commences somewhat after the manner of the introduction by
Rimsky-Korsakoff, but subsequent treatment is different.
[Music: A. GLAZOUNOFF.]
A composition of this kind is obviously more of a curiosity than a
work of the highest art; but an examination of the score reveals a
surprising amount of skill, and, considering the restrictions under
which they wrote, the several composers have contrived to invest the
Quartett with much more melodic interest than at first seems possible.
Other Russian composers who were associated with Belaieff have written
works on the same theme, among these being a Serenade for String
Quintett by Nicolas Sokoloff; and by A. Kopyloff an Andantino, and a
Prelude and Fugue, both for String Quartett.
[Sidenote: =Arensky=]
Another work, which is, however, written much more in the idiom
characteristic of the Russian school than that which has just been
named, is the String Quartett in A minor, op. 35A, dedicated
to the memory of Tschaïkovsky, by Arensky.
[Illustration: Ihr ergebener Richard Wagner [signature]]
Anton Stepanovitch Arensky was born at Novgorod in the year 1862, and
studied for some time with Rimsky-Korsakoff; but, whilst acquiring
a sound knowledge of technique, he does not appear to have been
very largely influenced by that composer’s ideas. He is rather to
be reckoned as belonging to the eclectic school of Tschaïkovsky,
with whom he was subsequently associated for many years in Moscow.
He has composed two operas, of which the first, _A Dream on the
Volga_, is of considerable dimensions; also a Ballet and two
Symphonies, besides a large number of piano pieces of varying merit.
In these he displays considerable ingenuity, but unfortunately the
effect is not always spontaneous; in fact, it seems as though he
sometimes sets out to startle, without due thought as to whether it
is worth while. Amongst his best works should be mentioned three
Suites for two Pianos Concertante, afterwards orchestrated by the
composer, of which the second, entitled “Silhouettes,” has attained
a well-deserved popularity. His activity as a teacher is also very
great, and he has produced some valuable theoretical works. Amongst
the many musicians who have passed through his hands must be mentioned
Sergius Rachmaninoff, one of the most promising members of the younger
generation of composers.
The Quartett, op. 35A, was originally composed for violin,
viola, and two ’cellos, and afterwards re-written for the usual
combination. Far from its losing by the change, its heaviness is
considerably relieved and its value enhanced. It is dedicated to
the memory of Tschaïkovsky, the material being taken from the Greek
orthodox liturgy, from Tschaïkovsky’s own works, and from national
sources.[36]
[Footnote 36: _Notes on Modern Russian Music_ (Edwin Evans).]
The work opens thus:—
[Music: ARENSKY, OP. 35A.]
A little farther on this is repeated in slightly varied form, with a
fresh theme played above it by the first violin:—
[Music: ARENSKY, OP. 35A.]
This, with further variation and another theme of an equally melodious
and elegiac character, constitutes the basis of the first movement,
which after considerable development ends pianissimo with a repetition
of the opening theme. An air, quoted below, obviously of the volkslied
order, treated in variation form, constitutes the second movement, and
presents numerous points of interest. The coda, for instance, commences
with four bars of chords of harmonics played by the four instruments.
This leads on to a repetition of the elegiac theme with which the
Quartett begins, and then the movement ends with certain quaint
allusions to the theme quoted above.
[Music: ARENSKY, OP. 35A.
THEME.]
The finale, which is in free fugal form, with an introductory andante
and a short adagio episode, brings this interesting work to a
conclusion.
[Sidenote: =Trio in D Minor: Arensky=]
Another composition by Arensky is the Trio in D minor, op. 32, for
piano, violin, and ’cello, inscribed to the memory of the ’cellist,
Charles Davidoff, who was the principal of the Conservatoire at St.
Petersburg. It was played at the Monday Popular Concerts in 1896 by
Sapellnikoff, Joachim, and Paul Ludwig. It is well written, but, save
as to the elegiac slow movement, not touched with the usual Sclav
feeling, nor is the melodic material, although pleasant enough, at all
remarkable. In a still greater measure the same judgment applies to
this composer’s Quintett, op. 51, for piano and strings, an elaborate
and high-sounding but really somewhat empty composition.
Other chamber music works of this school which may be mentioned are:—
[Sidenote: =Sokoloff=]
(1) A String Quartett in F, op. 7, by Nicolas Sokoloff, a St.
Petersburg musician, born in the year 1858. The first movement of this
work is well characterised, and contains some remarkable imitative
writing. The whole Quartett, if not great, is certainly worthy of
attention.
[Sidenote: =Tanyeëff=]
(2) A String Quartett in D minor, op. 7, by S. Tanyeëff, which
consists of two movements only, the second being a notable set of
eight variations, with a coda which is based on the principal theme of
the first movement. Tanyeëff, who was a pupil of Tschaïkovsky, is now
professor of harmony and composition in the Conservatoire of Moscow.
[Sidenote: =Kopyloff=]
(3) A String Quartett,[37] op. 15, by Alexander Kopyloff, one of
the staff of the Imperial Chapel in St. Petersburg. This work is
much simpler in construction than the others. It may be recommended
to amateurs as a pleasant and quite practicable, if not very
distinguished, composition.
[Footnote 37: Most of these works and others of the Russian School are
published in cheap miniature scores, similar to the well-known Payne
edition.]
[Sidenote: =Tschaïkovsky=]
Another work which cannot be omitted in a notice of Russian chamber
music is the Trio for piano and strings, op. 50, by Tschaïkovsky; a
lengthy and deeply brooding work of highly impressive character, which
is already well known in England.
Tschaïkovsky (1840-93) was the most distinguished of the modern
Russian school of composers, and a musician of remarkable originality
and power. He was educated for the legal profession, and entered the
Government Civil Service, but the musical impulses asserted themselves
with such force that in 1866, having first seriously studied for some
time, he henceforth devoted himself to the musical profession.
He was deeply imbued with the national influences of his country, and
did what he could to foster and develop them. “His music shows the
strange and violent contrasts of mood characteristic of his race;
now full of a wild and barbarous energy and fiery intensity; now of
almost maiden tenderness and ingenuousness; now of a black and hopeless
melancholy.”[38]
[Footnote 38: _Biographical Dictionary_ (Baker).]
Tschaïkovsky’s chamber music consists of a String Sextett, op. 70,
three String Quartetts, the Piano Trio named above, and a number of
compositions for piano and violin, piano and ’cello, and piano alone.
CHAPTER IX.
RICHARD STRAUSS AND ANTON BRUCKNER.
Position with regard to classical form—Strauss’s chamber
music—Bruckner’s character and individuality—Bruckner’s
symphonies—String quintett in F major—Hanslick on
Bruckner’s works—Krehbiel on Bruckner’s Seventh
Symphony—Weingartner’s opinion.
[Sidenote: =Position with regard to Classical Form=]
Richard Strauss, born at Munich in 1864, is without doubt one of the
most distinguished of living musicians, and although his recent works
are written in a very advanced style, it cannot be said that he has
arrived at this condition without due deliberation, for his earlier
compositions are all in classical form, and his present position is
therefore due to growth rather than to a wanton setting aside of the
established forms in which the great masters wrought. It is only when
we come to the symphonic poem “Don Juan,” op. 20, that we find him
embracing the programme music ideal, and all the seven large works
which have since appeared are fashioned after this kind.
[Illustration: _Richard Strauss._ [signature]]
That Strauss displays an enormous talent for orchestral effect, and
a breadth and vigour of style which carries all before it, no one
acquainted with his works will dispute, but whatever abiding hold he
may have gained on the musical thought of the world will be found not
to be primarily due to qualities of this kind, influential as they
no doubt are, but to his being endowed with the power to write true
and convincing tunes. For example, one may regard programme music and
the hurly-burly of works like _Till Eulenspiegel_ as entirely
obnoxious and subversive of true art, but all the same it is idle to
ignore the character and charm of such tunes as these:—
[Music: TILL EULENSPIEGEL.
R. STRAUSS.]
With the following curious metamorphosis of its first notes, which
plays an important part in the work:—
[Music]
[Music: TILL EULENSPIEGEL.
R. STRAUSS.]
[Music: DON JUAN.
R. STRAUSS.]
[Sidenote: =Strauss’s Chamber Music=]
The earlier Symphony of this composer, in F minor, op. 12, exhibits
also, although in a lesser degree, the same melodic charm; but on the
other hand (and such inequality is a perplexing feature of Strauss’s
works) his chamber music, such as the String Quartett, op. 2, the Piano
Quartett, op. 13, and the Violin and Piano Sonata, op. 18, when tried
by this standard, are more or less disappointing. True, the andante and
the finale of the String Quartett show a certain amount of melodic
interest, as also does the andante (improvisation) of the Sonata; but
in the other movements, and in the Piano Quartett, while the writing is
always masterful, and indeed at times overpowering in its strength and
directness, the want of real tune renders these works unconvincing.
All the same it must be admitted that Richard Strauss is one of the
most interesting personalities among contemporary composers, a position
which is also occupied by our own countryman Edward Elgar, and the
only thing which may with certainty be said is that they both baffle
the prophets, for, judged by what they have already done, we know not
what a day may bring forth.[39] Men who in the prime of life have given
us “The Dream of Gerontius,” and “Till Eulenspiegel,” have within
them possibilities of a far-reaching kind, and it is to them, with
Coleridge-Taylor and some others of, as yet, lesser fame, that we have
to look for the next important contributions to the literature of the
art.
[Footnote 39: This was written early in 1902.]
In addition to the chamber music named above, Richard Strauss has
written a Serenade, op. 7, for wind instruments; a Sonata, op. 6, for
piano and ’cello, which is an interesting work; and a Sonata, op. 5,
for piano solo.
[Sidenote: =Bruckner’s Character and Individuality=]
A composer who has given to the world as many orchestral symphonies as
Beethoven; a number of choral works, all laid out on the largest scale;
who enjoyed the esteem and admiration of Richard Wagner; who lived for
about thirty years in Vienna as neighbour, and in a sense the rival,
of Brahms; whose compositions, and even whose name, are almost unknown
to English musicians; such was Anton Bruckner (1824-96), a man of
strong character and individuality, who by diligence and determination
has made for himself a name and position in the world of music. Nor
has this been accomplished by mere push and personal assertiveness,
for Bruckner was a man of simple, straightforward character, who was
content to let his life speak for itself, and so far as his works were
concerned, to wait for a hearing. It is said that some of his early
symphonies were not performed until many years after they were written.
An examination of his scores reveals an extraordinary command of the
resources of counterpoint, as well as a vigorous and direct manner
of presenting his ideas. He writes, too, in a manner grateful to the
orchestral performers, affording, without any mere striving after
effect, the several instruments opportunities for the display of their
powers.
[Sidenote: =Bruckner’s Symphonies=]
There is also a certain romantic formality, if such a contradiction in
terms may be allowed, about his symphonies, which in part creates a
feeling as though Cherubini had come to life again and become imbued
with the modernity of the men of our time. Had Bruckner been as great a
melodist as he is a contrapuntalist, the balance of musical power would
not have been exactly what it is to-day, and Schumann and Brahms would
have had a serious competitor.
[Sidenote: =String Quintett in F major=]
But it is here that a weakness is revealed which no mere technical
skill or elaborate orchestration can hide. Many of Bruckner’s works
are no doubt here and there quite melodious, but this is the case when
the influence of other masters, chiefly Beethoven and Wagner, is most
evident. In spite, however, of considerations of this kind, his music
deserves more than a passing word, although so far as concerns the
subject treated of in this book, Bruckner has left but one chamber
music composition, a Quintett for strings in F major.
This work, however, made a considerable stir in musical circles when it
appeared, and it is said to have been played with the greatest success
by the Hellmesberger Quartett in Vienna, that most critical of musical
centres. We are not aware if Bruckner has written any other chamber
music; at any rate nothing further appears in the list of his music
which has reached England. This Quintett has not, it is believed, been
performed here, nor indeed, so far as we know (1902), has any work of
Bruckner’s been given, save his Seventh Symphony, which was performed
in London, under Dr. Richter, in the year 1887.
The two extracts from this Quintett which are quoted below will
illustrate better, no doubt, than any written description both the
weakness and the strength of this composer. The first movement has much
ingenuity, but little charm. Counterpoint and modulation are copiously
poured out, and are indeed made to do service for those higher
qualities without which there is no true art.
[Music: 1ST MOVEMENT, STRING QUINTETT IN F.
ANTON BRUCKNER.]
The adagio, on the other hand, reveals a feeling for emotional beauty
of no ordinary kind, and doubtless it is writing of this character,
which is found also in the slow movements of the Orchestral
Symphonies, that explains the effect which Bruckner’s works have
created on the Continent.
[Music: 3RD MOVEMENT, STRING QUINTETT IN F.
ANTON BRUCKNER.]
[Sidenote: =Hanslick on Bruckner’s Works=]
[Sidenote: =Krehbiel on Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony=]
The scherzo of the Fourth (Romantic) Symphony may also be cited as a
movement full of character, and while good, is pleasing even in the
popular sense of that word. Music such as this, indeed, justifies
the bringing forward of Bruckner’s name, and renders it difficult
to acquiesce in some of the severe judgments which have been passed
on his works. For example, when a new Symphony of Bruckner’s was
performed by the Vienna Philharmonic Society some few years ago, Dr.
Edward Hanslick, the well-known critic, said, in his notice printed
in the _Neue Freie Presse_, that he had left the concert-room
before the performance began, because he did not wish to witness the
desecration of the hall! And in his notice of a New York concert, in
which Mr. Theodore Thomas conducted Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony, Mr.
H.E. Krehbiel, the musical critic of _The Tribune_, says:—“As
an instance of what the intellect can do in music it is perhaps as
startling and interesting as anything that the century has produced.
But as a musical composition it is nine-tenths cold intellectuality and
one-tenth beauty. It is polyphony gone mad. If one wants originality,
here it is in abundance. There is nothing under the heaven, or on the
earth, or in the waters under the earth like unto this symphony. Those
who think the thematic work in _Tristan_ and _The Ring_
complex and laboured, should hear this symphony, if for no other
reason than to see how, in comparison with it, Wagner’s is a complete
exemplification of good music as defined by Galuppi in a conversation
with Dr. Burney one hundred and sixteen years ago: ‘Beauty, clearness,
and good modulation.’ Every element of symphonic writing which Herr
Bruckner uses he uses in a manner which stamps a unique character on
the work. But it is only unique, not beautiful.”
And after discussing several technical points in the work, Mr. Krehbiel
adds that, all the same, it is not wise or just to condemn an art-work
like this in so superficial and flippant manner as nearly all the New
York newspapers have done; “but bearing in mind a score of marvellous
things in the symphony, notably several moments that approach grandeur
in the slow movement, and remembering that that is not always the
highest type of beauty which is obvious at a glance, we are yet
constrained to say that for the present the work is a failure. It may
be beautiful in twenty-five years; it is not beautiful now.”
[Sidenote: =Weingartner’s Opinion=]
In the article by Herr Felix Weingartner, on the post-Beethoven
symphonists, which was previously mentioned, we find the following
opinion of Bruckner and his works:—“In these last ten years has been
often mentioned a powerful rival of Brahms, born in that artist’s
second fatherland, in that city of Vienna which seems to be the city
of the symphony.[40] Though much older than Brahms, Anton Bruckner,
recently deceased, only became universally known even later than
him.... His was a musical talent veritably rich. For that reason
one would be almost tempted to compare him to his great compatriot
Schubert, if only he had created works perfect enough to be considered
really masterly. But it was not so.... I was once asked my opinion of
the rivalry of Bruckner and Brahms. I replied, ‘I should like nature
to give us a musician uniting in himself the qualities of the two
composers, the immense imagination of Bruckner with the knowledge of
Brahms. From such a combination would arise an artistic figure of the
highest possible value.’”
[Footnote 40: There would seem some mistake here, as Bruckner was born
at Ansfelden in Upper Austria.]
CHAPTER X.
CHAMBER MUSIC OF RECENT TIMES.
Trio by E. Schütt—Trio by Kirchner—Raff’s C minor
Trio—Balfe’s Trio in A major—Trio: C. Hubert Parry—Trio:
Bargiel—Sterndale Bennett’s Trio, op. 26—Trio, D minor:
F.E. Bache—Trio, E flat: Nawratil—Trio: Goetz—Trio:
Schmidt—Other Trios—String Trios—Quartett: Mackenzie—E
flat Quartett: Rheinberger—Quartett: W. Rabl—Quartett:
Prout—Quartett: Verdi—Quartett: Onslow—Quartett: W.H.
Veit—Unusual combinations.
Here we must notice a few chamber compositions, chosen chiefly from the
works of musicians of our own or of recent times. No special method
of selection is followed, nor must the list be regarded as at all an
exhaustive one. Only what is thought may prove acceptable and useful to
earnest amateurs is mentioned.
[Sidenote: =Trio by E. Schütt=]
A Trio, _Walzer Märchen_, op. 54, for piano, violin, and ’cello,
by Edward Schütt, consists of three delightful musical stories, told
in waltz rhythm, without a trace of monotony, which might easily arise
under such conditions. Schütt, their composer, lives in Vienna, where
he has conducted the Akademischer Wagnerverein. He has written a
number of works, and among them is a Piano Trio in C minor, which has
met with much approval.
[Sidenote: =Trio by Kirchner=]
In the _Novelletten_ Trios, op. 59, for piano, violin, and ’cello,
by Theodor Kirchner, we have a set of refined and well-written pieces
which display a considerable amount of character. Kirchner, who was an
intimate friend of both Mendelssohn and Schumann, has written a large
number of works, chiefly in the smaller forms, for the pianoforte. His
model has evidently been Schumann, and he even gives to some of his
works titles which were used by that master. For instance, his op. 17
he calls “Neue Davidsbündlertänze,” and op. 53 “Florestan and Eusebius.”
[Sidenote: =Raff’s C Minor Trio=]
The composer, Joachim Raff (1822-82), of the Trio in C minor, op. 102,
for piano, violin, and ’cello, was a distinguished example of what has
been called “fatal facility.” His powers of musical invention seemed
inexhaustible, and this, along with the demands of publishers, and
probably, pecuniary needs, led him to overwrite himself, for of his
two hundred and fifty and more works many are of but little value.
With his larger works, generally speaking, it is different, and at any
rate his symphonies and overtures entitle him to a leading place among
contemporary composers.
This Trio also ranks as one of his best works. It is full of genuine
melody and true poetic feeling, the andante (Mässig langsam) being
especially charming. Those who are in sympathy with the advanced school
of composition will find food for their fancy also in the String
Quartett in D minor, op. 77, by this composer. It is well known that
Raff was an ardent follower of the Liszt-Wagner school, and in this
work he fully reveals this tendency. The third movement is an extremely
fine example of the emotional style, full of rich and glowing passages
which bring to mind the intensity and glamour of _Tristan_ and
_The Ring_. The Quartett, though difficult, is well worth knowing,
if only for the sake of this movement. As has already been said, Raff
no doubt wrote too much, and, in colloquial phrase, too often “gave
himself away,” but for all that he had the root of the matter in him,
and at his best he rises to great heights.
[Sidenote: =Balfe’s Trio in A Major=]
To those who only know Michael W. Balfe (1808-70) as the composer of
_The Bohemian Girl_ and other operas, his Trio in A major for
piano, violin, and ’cello will come as somewhat of a surprise, for as
a general rule we do not find in opera composers the power to bring to
a successful issue works of this class. Here, however, may be found
not only tunefulness, but such technical skill and musicianship as
this style of composition demands. Each movement possesses merit of
no common order, and especially the scherzo may be mentioned as being
distinguished by freshness and vigour, and also by certain humorous
touches which serve to remind us that Balfe was musically, as well as
nationally, an Irishman.
[Sidenote: =Trio: Sir Hubert H. Parry=]
Chiefly because of its being ahead of its time, and partly because
of its difficulty, Sir Hubert H. Parry’s Trio in E minor for piano,
violin, and ’cello has not had the recognition which it deserves, for
it is a noteworthy work by one of our distinguished English composers.
It also probably represents its composer’s _Sturm und Drang_
period. But it is the works of such periods which very often most
fully reveal the aspirations and powers of an artist, even when also
displaying the immaturities of inexperience.
The second movement, and especially the adagio which follows, contains
some of Sir Hubert Parry’s best music. The allegro giocoso with which
the trio ends will, like the whole work, repay study, although it
doubtless makes large demands on both performers and listeners.
[Sidenote: =Trio: Bargiel=]
Waldemar Bargiel (1828-97) was one of the followers of Schumann, under
whose influence, and also that of Mendelssohn, he came at an early
age. Later in life he worked with Dr. Joachim at the Royal Music School
in Berlin. His works, without being absolutely great, are distinguished
by sound musicianship and all those qualities which arise from true
refinement and culture. The Trio in E flat, op. 20, for piano, violin,
and ’cello is written in an elevated and interesting style. The andante
especially is a nobly expressed and poetical movement.
Another Piano Trio by this composer is that in F major, op. 6. This
work, which is dedicated to Schumann, commences with a theme whose
first four notes are quoted from the scherzo of that master’s Piano
Quintett in E♭. It does not, however, either as regards its themes or
its poetic feeling, compare favourably with the op. 20.
[Sidenote: =Sterndale Bennett’s Trio, op. 26=]
The Chamber Trio, op. 26, for piano, violin, and ’cello, by Sir
William Sterndale Bennett (1816-75), is the fairly-well-known work
of a composer of whom it has been said that although “the number of
his compositions is not large, for polish, refinement, and careful
elaboration they vie with the best in musical art.” “He is in a special
degree a musicians’ composer. His excellencies, in addition to the
real and genuine feeling for beauty and expression which pervades
his music, belong to that interesting and delicate type of art which
illustrates in a special degree the fitness of means to an end, the
relation between the feeling expressed and the manner and medium of
expressing it; a class of artistic production which always has a
peculiar interest for artists, and for those who study critically the
details of the art illustrated.”[41]
[Footnote 41: _Dictionary of Music and Musicians_ (Grove), vol. i.
p. 226.]
The Trio op. 26 consists of three movements—a charming andante
tranquillo, followed by a serenata, and concluding with a vigorous
allegro fermato. In the serenata the violin plays pizzicato throughout,
while the cantabile melody is chiefly given to the piano, occasionally
reinforced by the ’cello, which also joins the violin in the pizzicato
effects.
[Sidenote: =Trio, D Minor: F.E. Bache=]
We are not aware whether the Trio in D minor, op. 25, by Francis Edward
Bache (1833-58), is generally known. If not, it certainly deserves
to be. In style it is no doubt Mendelssohnian; indeed, in choice of
keys and treatment it closely follows that master’s op. 49; but at the
same time there is individuality in Bache’s work. Much modern chamber
music, especially of continental origin, is burdened with elaborations
and flights of fancy which, to say nothing harsher, render it almost
unintelligible unless performed by artists of the highest executive
skill, whilst in the hands of the average amateur the result is
usually chaotic. All this is avoided in this Trio. Without being in
the least tame or insipid, it is never unreasonably difficult. The
opening allegro is fresh and vigorous in style, and in the andante the
treatment of the three instruments is more than usually interesting. A
rondo (allegro molto ed appassionata), twice interrupted by a melodious
episode (un poco più lento), brings the Trio to an end. The composer of
this Trio was the brother of the well-known pianist, Walter Bache, who
laboured so unselfishly in the cause of advanced music, and especially
in introducing the works of Liszt to the British public. Francis Edward
Bache showed great musical ability as a child. He studied the violin
under Alfred Mellon, who was at that time conductor at the Birmingham
Theatre, and in 1846, when Mendelssohn conducted his _Elijah_
there, the boy, who was then thirteen years old, was allowed to play in
the orchestra.
There can be no doubt, from the works he has left behind him and the
high opinions held of him by Sterndale Bennett, Hauptmann, and Plaidy
(Leipzig), under whom he studied, that had he lived he would have
become a distinguished addition to the list of English composers.
[Sidenote: =Trio, E Flat: Nawratil=]
Karl Nawratil (1836), the composer of the Trio in E♭, op. 9, for piano,
violin, and ’cello, has for a long time enjoyed an excellent reputation
as piano-teacher in Vienna. Among his pupils have been Madame Essipoff,
Edward Schütt, and others who have distinguished themselves. He has
written in various styles, and in chamber music form as well as this
Trio, a String Quartett, two Piano Quartetts, and another Piano Trio.
The Trio in E♭ is an interesting composition, and quite grateful music
to play. The last movement, with its fugal episode, may be specially
mentioned. The work is dedicated to Brahms.
[Sidenote: =Trio: Goetz=]
Hermann Goetz (1840-76) is known at any rate by two works which
proclaim him to have been a highly gifted artist, and it is reasonable
to think that but for his early death he would have come to occupy
a very distinguished place among contemporary composers. The works
referred to are an opera, _The Taming of the Shrew_, and the F
major Orchestral Symphony. There is also a fine setting, for soprano
solo, chorus, and orchestra, of the psalm “By the Waters of Babylon,”
and another of Schiller’s _Nänie_. He was also engaged at the time
of his death on a second opera, _Francesca da Rimini_, the sketch
for which was completed by his friend Frank, and performed at Mannheim
in 1877.
The Trio in G minor, op. 1, for piano, violin, and ’cello, is a
composition of dignified character, and full of true poetic feeling.
This composer unquestionably had something to say, and he knew how to
say it. His other chamber music works are a Piano Quintett in C minor,
a Piano Quartett in E, and a Piano Sonata for four hands.
[Sidenote: =Trio: Schmidt=]
Oscar Schmidt, an unknown variant of the familiar name, has written a
Trio in G minor, op. 24, for piano, violin, and ’cello, which may be
recommended as a pleasant and sincere, although not great work. It is
composed in classical form, with the usual four movements. The adagio
opens with a charming and effective theme for the ’cello, and the whole
trio is well laid out and playable for all the instruments.
[Sidenote: =Other Trios=]
Other piano, violin, and ’cello trios which may be mentioned are:—
Trio in F, op. 18, by Saint-Saëns (1835), which is a well-written work,
showing its composer’s remarkable versatility.
Trio in E♭, op. 35, by Sir C. Villiers Stanford (1852), the second
movement of which is a most dainty allegretto.
Trio in B♭, op. 27, by B. Molique (1802-69), an artist who, both as
composer and violinist, worthily upheld a high classical standard.
Novelletten, op. 29, and Trio in F, op. 42, both by Niels W. Gade
(1817-90).
Trio in B♭, op. 52, by Anton Rubinstein (1830-94), with a very fine
adagio movement.
Serenade Trio, op. 64, by Ferdinand Hiller (1811-85). The slow
movement is called “a Ghazel.” This has been described as a short
form of Persian poetry, in which the rhyme of the first two lines
is repeated in every alternate line throughout the piece. Hiller’s
musical equivalent for this is a simple phrase repeated by the strings,
the piano filling up the intervals with other matter. Another of
the movements is written chiefly in 5/4 time, but save for these
peculiarities, the trio is not of any great value.
Two Trios, op. 21 and op. 32, by Emil Kreuz, for piano, violin, and
viola, may also be mentioned.
[Sidenote: =String Trios=]
As modern works for two violins and ’cello are not often to be
met with, reference may be made to Two Trios, op. 135, for this
combination, by Aloys Schmitt (1788-1866).
No. 1, in E♭, consists of one movement only; but No. 2, in D minor,
has three, viz.:—Allegro moderato, minuet, and allegro. Both are well
written, playable, and pleasant. The composer was born at Erlenbach in
Bavaria, and lived chiefly in Frankfort, where he was well known as a
pianist and teacher of high aim.
Of Trios for violin, viola, and ’cello may be named op. 69 in G minor,
by W. Berger (1861). This is the work of a living musician who resides
in Berlin. Berger, who has published a considerable number of important
works, writes in an earnest and musicianly manner, and although this
trio may be somewhat lacking in melodic interest, it should at any rate
prove useful to those who seek for music written for this combination
of instruments, a form which is of course much rarer than the Quartett.
There are also three Trios, op. 85, for the same instruments, in D, C
minor, and F, by Hermann Berens (1825-80), a Hamburg musician.
[Sidenote: =Quartett: Mackenzie=]
Prominent among modern quartetts stands that in E♭, for piano,
violin, viola, and ’cello, by Sir A.C. Mackenzie (1847). This is an
early work of this composer, and one which has hardly been accorded
the recognition that it deserves. The third movement consists of a
canzonetta with an interesting and fanciful set of variations. The
quartett ends with a well-wrought and vigorous allegro. Sir Alexander
Mackenzie has not published much chamber music, having, it would seem,
preferred to occupy himself with works of larger dimensions.
[Sidenote: =E Flat Quartett: Rheinberger=]
The Quartett in E♭, op. 38, for piano, violin, viola, and ’cello, by
Joseph Rheinberger (1839-1901), has been a good deal played in England
during recent years, and is an admirable example of this refined and
musicianly composer.
Another of his chamber compositions, which is not perhaps so well
known, is the String Quartett in C minor, op. 89. It is written in
the usual form with four movements; the tunes are sincere, and the
treatment is interesting, without anything which savours of pedantry.
It is also a grateful work, from the performers’ point of view.
[Sidenote: =Quartett: W. Rabl=]
The Quartett in E♭, op. 1, for clarinet, violin, ’cello, and piano,
by Walter Rabl, calls for mention. Rabl is a native of Prague, where
he received his training, and his works have been brought to light
chiefly through the instrumentality of the Friends of Music Society
in Vienna, of whose committee Brahms was an active member. This
quartett, which is dedicated to Brahms, is written in classical form
and has many interesting features; it was played at the London Monday
Popular Concerts in 1899, during a visit to England of Herr Mühlfeld,
the celebrated German clarinettist. Rabl has also written a set of
Fantasiestücke, op. 2, for piano, violin, and ’cello, and a fine Sonata
in D major, op. 6, for piano and violin.
[Sidenote: =Quartett: Prout=]
Dr. Ebenezer Prout (1835), the eminent theorist and musical professor
in the University of Dublin, has written, in addition to many works
in various styles, and the Quartett, op. 18, in F, for piano, violin,
viola, and ’cello, the following chamber music:—two String Quartetts,
op. 1 and op. 15; a Piano Quintett, op. 3; a Piano Quartett, op.
2; a Romance for viola, with piano accompaniment, op. 32; a Sonata
for piano and clarinet, op. 26; and a Duo Concertante for piano and
harmonium, op. 6: all of which may be strongly recommended to amateurs
who love a straightforward, intelligible style. The composer’s intimate
acquaintance with the music of the great classic period, united to a
sensitive and eclectic taste, has enabled him to give to the world in
these works music which worthily upholds a true and pure standard. The
String Quartett, op. 15, with its charming andante movement, as well as
the op. 18, may be specially mentioned.
[Sidenote: =Quartett: Verdi=]
A String Quartett in E minor, by Verdi (1813-1901), is the only work
which the great Italian opera composer wrote in the chamber music
style. It was first privately performed in the drawing-room of the
composer’s residence, in 1873, and another performance took place at
the London Monday Popular Concerts in 1878. Since that time it does not
seem to have been often heard.
The work, which is by no means easy, contains some scholarly and
remarkable writing, but for all that it can hardly be regarded as a
satisfactory or successful composition. Especially does it lack that
melodic interest which one expects from a composer usually so admirable
in this respect as Verdi. Compared with his operas and other works, it
lacks spontaneity and charm. At the same time it should be remembered
that Verdi himself attached no importance to the quartett, and only
very reluctantly allowed it to be performed out of his own house. He
seems to have been as little successful with this work as probably
Brahms would have been with an opera, had he ventured to write one.
[Sidenote: =Quartett: Onslow=]
G. Onslow (1784-1852), who wrote a large quantity of music, was a
grandson of the first Lord Onslow. He was born in France, where, on
his own estates, he chiefly resided. Chamber music was his passion,
and of this he composed a great deal, and spent considerable time in
its performance, the ’cello being his instrument. His String Quintetts
are regarded as his best works, and they contain much charming
music. “One of these, called@ “Le Quintette de la balle,” describes
his emotions—the pain, the irregular beating of his pulse, and his
gratitude on his recovery—consequent on an accident that happened to
him at a wolf hunt, where a spent ball hit him in the face, rendering
him somewhat deaf in one ear for the rest of his life.“[42] Among
his numerous String Quartetts is one in G minor, op. 9, which has an
interesting set of four variations on our national anthem, ”God save
the King.”@@@
[Footnote 42: _Dictionary of Music and Musicians_ (Grove), vol.
ii. p. 497.]
A String Quartett in D minor by Hugo Wolf deserves attention. He
has been described as “the intensified and intellectually developed
Schubert”! The Quartett referred to is in form and melodic material
interesting, especially as an example of the unfettered tendencies in
modern music.
A recently-published composition by John B. McEwen must not go
unmentioned. This String Quartett in A minor has been performed
in London and was approved. Like Dvořák, with whom indeed he has
something in common, Mr. McEwen’s music reveals his nationality. The
_Andante_, with a prominent viola part, distinctly appeals to
those from “beyond the border.”
[Sidenote: =Quartett: W.H. Veit=]
Finally there is the String Quartett No. 1 in D minor by W.H. Veit
(1806-64). Although of no great interest otherwise, this quartett
contains a musicianly set of variations on the Russian national
anthem. Wenzel Heinrich Veit was the district president of the law
courts at Leitmeritz in Bohemia, where he lived all his life. Chiefly
self-taught, he was an excellent musician, and has left behind him some
well-written works.
[Sidenote: =Unusual Combinations=]
In the vast _répertoire_ of chamber music the following works for
unusual combinations of instruments may be mentioned, although some of
them are obviously more musical curiosities than works of art:—
Octett, op. 32, by Liadoff (1855), a Russian composer, for piccolo, two
flutes, three clarinets, harp, and campanelli (bells).
Septett, op. 24, in D, by Vincent d’Indy (1851), a somewhat
distinguished French musician, for trumpet, two flutes, and string
quartett.
Septett, op. 67, by Saint-Saëns, for trumpet, strings, and piano.
Trio (humorous) by Latann, for piccolo, guitar, and trombone.
Theme and Variations by Kroepsch, for tin whistle and piano.
Mozart, Haydn, Hummel, Reicha, Quantz, and others have written for
unusual combinations of instruments, as the list of their works will
show, but only a few of these have much artistic value.
Appendices.
A. CHRONOLOGICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.
B. GLOSSARY OF TERMS.
Appendix A.
Chronological and Biographical.
1510. =Caspar Duiffoprugcar= (Bologna); about 1510.
The reputed inventor of the violin, although there can
be no doubt that this instrument was a slow growth from
earlier forms.
1533. =V. Galilei= (Florence), 1533-1600. Violin and
lute player. Member of the celebrated circle of artists who
met at the residence of Count Bardi in Florence.
1535. =Andreas Amati= (Cremona), 1535-1611. Head of
the family of celebrated violin makers.
1543. =Ganassi=, a Venetian writer, mentions three
varieties of violins as Viola di Soprano, di Tenore, e
di Basso; and Castiglione alludes to a composition for
“Quattro Viole da Arco,” which may of course be taken for
the String Quartett.
1557. =Thomas Morley= (London), 1557-1604. Famous
English composer, who wrote certain instrumental pieces,
after the manner of chamber music, for lute, citterne,
flute, treble and bass viol. He also wrote some excellent
vocal music.
1567. =Claudio Monteverdi= (Cremona), 1567-1643. A
composer of decided originality, who introduced a number
of new effects. The tremolo for strings is first met with
in his works. He was, however, chiefly a composer of the
earliest form of opera.
1586. =J. Hermann Schein= (Grünhain), 1586-1630. One
of the predecessors of J.S. Bach as cantor of the St.
Thomas School at Leipzig. His compositions include a number
of works for strings, notably twenty Partitas with five
movements each. An edition of his works is now being issued
by Breitkopf & Härtel.
1592. =John Jenkins= (Maidstone), 1592-1678. Chamber
musician to King Charles I. and King Charles II. Composer
of chamber music, among which is twelve sonatas for two
violins and bass.
1598. =Salomon Rossi= (Mantua), 1598-1623. Italian
musician who published various early forms of chamber music
for strings.
1600. =G. Bassani= (Venice), about 1600. Violinist and
teacher of Corelli. He composed chamber music suites which
were highly esteemed.