CHAPTER I

MUSIC & ITS MASTERS

_Uniform with this Volume_

SYMPHONIES

AND THEIR MEANING

BY PHILIP H. GOEPP

_12mo. 407 pages. Cloth, $2.00_

This work, now in its third edition,

has demonstrated its great

usefulness.

Taking up the representative

symphonies of the great composers,

and illustrating his remarks with

excerpts from the score, the author

shows the individuality, the special

intention of the master, and, where

possible, the underlying purpose of

his art.

As an aid in the study of the

symphony, and as a companion at

symphony concerts, the book is

without a rival.

[Illustration: WAGNER] Page 134

By permission of E. H. Schroeder, Berlin

MUSIC & ITS MASTERS

BY

O. B. BOISE

[Illustration]

WITH SIX PORTRAITS

PHILADELPHIA & LONDON

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

1902

_Copyright, 1901

By J. B. Lippincott Company_

_Electrotyped and Printed by

J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U.S.A._

TO

GEORGE W. STOCKLEY, ESQ.

PREFACE

I have endeavored through showing the true nature of music, and

the conditions that are essential to its growth in breadth and

significance, to incite amateurs to a more respectful consideration of

its claims.

O. B. B.

BERLIN, March 1, 1901.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF MUSIC 13

II. MUSIC'S FIRST ERA, AND THE INFLUENCES

WHICH WERE OPERATIVE IN VARIOUS LANDS

DURING ITS CONTINUANCE 26

III. BIBLICAL MENTION OF MUSIC 61

IV. MUSIC FROM THE INVENTION OF NOTATION TO

DATE 80

V. WAGNER AND THE MUSIC DRAMA 134

VI. WHAT ARE THE INFLUENCING FACTORS IN

DECIDING MUSICAL DESTINIES? WHO IS TO

BE OUR SEVENTH HIGH-PRIEST? 169

VII. A SUMMARY OF MUSIC'S ATTRIBUTES. WHAT

CONSTITUTES MUSICAL INTELLIGENCE? 188

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

WAGNER _Frontispiece_

PALESTRINA 92

BACH 99

BEETHOVEN 106

SCHUBERT 109

SCHUMANN 114

MUSIC & ITS MASTERS

CHAPTER I

THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF MUSIC

A glance backward over the course of music's evolution suffices to

show that, until in very recent times, it furnishes no pregnant data

for the historian. The first era of music's evolution began before the

advent of historic man, for the earliest races of whom we know anything

had a well-defined appreciation of its significance, but no noteworthy

landmarks appear until after music came in touch with modern culture;

indeed, no great advancement is traceable until after the invention of

notation. The first record of melodies produced is supposed to have

been made in the fourth century (A.D. ),--viz., that of three Greek

hymns,--to Apollo, Nemesis, and Calliope,--which, however, possess

meagre means of proving their authenticity. From this shadowy period

until harmonies enter the field, nearly a thousand years later, the

historian finds no fruitful material, no verified accomplishments.

The march of material events was amply recorded, but melodies were

passed from mouth to mouth and ear to ear, necessarily changing

their outlines in the process, for the line that connects memory and

expression seems, in most of humankind, to run so near that which

leads from imagination to expression, as to engender inaccuracy in

transmission. (This crossed-line influence is recognizable in the

productions of most composers. Memories become entangled in their

fancies.) Although our modern melody has doubtless come down to us

through long lines of heritage, yielding to the prevailing influences

of each successive stage in transmission, there is no statistical light

on its line of development.

It would be interesting to know in what form the first musical

intuition manifested itself, and then to trace an unbroken chain of

cause and effect from that first manifestation to date, but that

knowledge would not materially benefit music, which is the only art

whose career does not follow well-defined cycles,--the features of

periods reproducing themselves with the recurrence of conditions.

In sculpture, poetry, and architecture we have seasons of reverting

to the antique, and with good results. These arts dealt with tangible

material, could be kept present to the eye and mind, and therefore

developed quickly. We return to their ancient forms, so restful in

their conformity to natural adjustment, for relief from the tireless

ingenuity of modern producers, and to find bases for new flights.

Music is, however, so essentially intangible that it required ages

to discover sufficient of its underlying principles to afford the

foundation for an art. Nothing within our ken has been as slow in

evolving, and yet nothing has shown such an unwavering tendency

forward and upward. These characteristics, and its insidious influence

upon man's nature, entitle it to be called the divine art. It is in

course of evolution from its original germ, but the outlines of its

early technical forms have no significance for the nineteenth-century

composer.

For the above reasons statistics will be avoided when they are not

essential in locating and verifying conditions. Some periods were too

influential in broadening and defining the scope of musical expression

to be ignored. I shall endeavor to make my theories in regard to the

origin and growth of music accord with its inherent qualities, as well

as with man's devious and changing nature. The greater the music the

more direct is its appeal to our imaginations, and the stronger its

effect upon our emotions. Each intrinsically great composition has its

distinguishing mood or temperament, which is the sequential expression

and perpetuation of an emotion. This mood is first announced by the

chosen themes, and then its varied phases and the cumulative intensity

essential to sustained expression are secured through the logical

manipulation of these themes.

I would divide music into two classes, natural and artificial. The

latter class is, as the name assigned to it implies, a mechanical

combination of musical means, the result of purely intellectual

processes, incited by will force, and not by inspiration. It lacks all

reason for being, and I shall dismiss it without further ceremony. It

is to natural music, which springs from our imaginations, is formulated

for purpose by intellect, appeals to the sympathies, and sways the

emotions, that I shall devote my attention. The music of the barbarous

races, although developed little beyond the initial stage, is adapted

in its character to their habits and sensibilities, and is among them

quite as powerful an agency for stimulating the passions as is our

nineteenth-century music among the people of this Western civilization.

Their musical exercises are purely emotional, and therefore natural.

Natural music is composed of two species, that which is earnest and

edifying, and that which is entertaining only. These diverse growths

are equally spontaneous, and each develops form, substance, and

proportions in keeping with the intellectual soil by which it is

nurtured.

The world requires that music shall suit its varying moods. Some of

Johann Strauss' waltzes are quite as genuine music as are Beethoven's

symphonies, and each in its own way contributes to the pleasure and

benefit of mankind. Which would be the greater loss, were it blotted

out of existence, is unquestionable, for the resultant deprivation must

be measured by the comparative numbers who would feel the lack of each.

The great majority of the public, and even some of music's devotees,

derive more pleasure from entertaining than from earnest (so-called

classical) music. This is partly because earnest music is quite often

abstruse, requiring well-directed mental effort to understand its full

significance; but a more generally prevailing reason for this condition

(especially when dance music is concerned) is to be found in its

cheering and exhilarating effect.

I think it pure affectation for musical persons to express a lack of

respect for a good piece of dance music. A large percentage of those

who do so are not sincere. They fear to discredit their appreciation

of the classical, thinking wrongly that there would be something

incongruous in liking both. The artist's ideals should embrace the

whole gamut of human feeling, and music that strikes our sensibilities

at any point in this line is genuine, whether it be a symphony, a love

song, or a waltz.

If music be the language of the emotions, its germs must be those

sounds through which joy, grief, love, fear, rage, wonder, and longing

find natural, unpremeditated, and often involuntary expression. The

fact that the import of these sounds, whether produced by man, beast,

or bird, is unmistakable, has led some writers to accord music the

honor of having been the initial means of intercourse between members

of the human family,--the original language. This is hardly consistent,

for life is mostly unrhythmic monotone, punctuated only here and there

by episodes fruitful in musical germs.

Scientific observation has established the fact that all of the higher

species of living things have forms of vocal intercommunication. Like

human beings, animals have forms of speech comporting with their

degrees of intelligence and needs, but quite apart from these forms,

they and man have mutually intelligible codes of emotional expression.

These codes are not identical in less essential details, nor are they

equally comprehensive, but they spring from a common source. They vary

in character according to the qualities of instinctive feeling, refined

or coarse, that dominate the creatures that employ them.

The lowest grade of animal life which possesses vocal apparatus is

susceptible of but three emotions--anger, longing, and fear--in such

measure as to elicit expression. The higher grades feel joy, love,

sorrow, anger, fear, and longing.

Music has significance only when fraught with messages from the

composer to the hearer. Therefore those sounds which most clearly

voice strong emotions are the most pregnant musical germs. Isolated

shouts of triumph, rage, and joy, or cries of pain, fear, and entreaty,

appeal to our sensibilities, but they do not suggest music, although

its line of development from these primal elements is traceable. It

began with the first intellectual recognition of the adequacy of tonal

expression, when those sounds which had been involuntarily produced as

the result of sensations, were placed by the human mind in the category

of expressive means.

At this point our germs came under the influence of deliberate purpose.

Intellect took spontaneous shouts, cries, and moans in hand, and has

gradually endowed them with continuity, life pulsation (rhythm), and

_form_; has made them express sentiments surcharged with emotions,

creating a definitely significant atmosphere (_stimmung_). This

pervading atmosphere or mood, which is a vital element in successful

musical effort, must be in no wise confounded with the situations

incident to and arising through the descriptive (_program_) composer's

art. The first is personal, a heart mood; the second is impersonal, a

brain picture.

From this first step in musical evolution intellect has been more and

more closely associated with emotion, as the composer's intentions have

become more definite and his _forms_ more extended.

Music's progress has not been uniform, for it is most sensitive, and

the conditions have often been unfavorable. It has followed, to a

great degree, the tidal fluctuations of refinement and fine sensibility

in the masses; for although its growth is dependent upon certain

conditions, these necessary conditions, if confined within narrow

limits, or when found only in isolated persons, will not suffice.

It must breathe a free air, full of sympathetic feeling and impulse,

and it must have a broad, deep soil in which to spread its roots, for

it aspires heavenward, up through the material into the ideal.

The growth of music from its initial stage to an art is quite

analogous, except in time consumed, to the growth of each talent to

maturity, or of each musical conception to full expression. They all

move on towards realization, impelled by art instinct and imagination.

The composer of to-day has a legendary past, full of romance and

heart-throbs, and a warm, sympathetic present, to stimulate his fancy,

but it required ages of joy, sorrow, love, and culture to quicken and

refine man's stoical nature. The soil which nourishes our imaginations

has been made fertile by the blood and tears of countless generations.

Music and Its Masters · 第 1 / 7 章