Music- 
 al! ART and a 
 LANGUAGE 
 
 ■WALTER K. SPALDING 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Gift of 
 
 Professor and Mrs. 
 
 Donald J. Grout 
 
 Music 
 
Cornell University Library 
 MT 6.S73 
 
 Music: an art and a language / 
 
 3 1924 021 804 855 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924021804855 
 
MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER EATMOND SPALDING 
 
 PrUx $2.50 nd 
 
 EIGHTH EDITION 
 
 THE ARTHUR P. SCHMIDT CO. 
 
 BOSTON NEW YORK 
 
 120 BoYLSTON Street 8 West 40th Steeit 
 
Copyright, 1920, by The Arthur P. Schmidt Co. 
 
 International Copyright Secured 
 
 A. P. S. 11788 
 
TO MY COLLEAGUES 
 IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC 
 
 at harvard university 
 
 William Clifford Heilman, Edward Burlingame Hill, 
 
 Archibald Thompson Davison, Edward Ballantine 
 
SUPPLEMENTARY 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 for 
 
 MUSIG: 
 an ART and a LANGUAGE 
 
 Published in four volumes 
 
 {SohmidVs Educational Series No. S57 o-d) 
 Price $1.25 net each volume 
 
Preface 
 
 A LTHOUGH "of the making of books there is no end," this book, 
 ■^ *■ on so human a subject as music, should, we believe justify itself. 
 A twenty-years' experience in teaching the Appreciation of Music at 
 Harvard University and Radclifle College has convinced the author 
 that a knowledge of musical grammar and structure does enable us, 
 as the saying is, to get more out of music. This conviction is fur- 
 ther strengthened by the statement of numerous students who testify 
 that after analyzing certain standard compositions their attitude 
 towards music has changed and their love for it greatly increased. 
 
 In the illustrations (published in a Supplementary Volume) no 
 concessions have been made to so-called "popular taste"; people have 
 an instinctive liking for the best when it is fairly put before them. 
 We are not providing a musical digest, since music requires active 
 cooperation by the hearer, nor are we trying to interpret music in 
 terms of the other arts. Music is itself. For those who may be in- 
 terested in speculating as to the connection between music and 
 art, nimierous books are available — some of them excellent from 
 their point of view. 
 
 This book concerns itself with music as music. It is assumed that, 
 it anyone really loves this art, he is willing and glad to do serious work 
 to quicken his sense of hearing, to broaden his imagination, and to 
 strengthen his memory so that he may become intelUgent in appre- 
 ciation rather than merely absorbed in honeyed sounds. Music is 
 of such power and glory that we should be ready to devote to its 
 study as much time as to a foreign language. In the creed of the 
 music-lover the first and last article is familiarity. When we thoroughly 
 know a composition so that its themes sing in our memory and we 
 feel at home in the structure, the music will speak to us directly, 
 and all books and analytical comments will be of secondary impor- 
 tance — those of the present writer not excepted. Special eflFort has 
 been made to select illustrations of musical worth, and upon these 
 the real emphasis in study should be laid. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The material of the book is based on lectures, often of an informal 
 nature, in the Appreciation Course at Harvard University and lays 
 no claim to original research. The difficulty in estabHshing points 
 of approach makes it far more baffling to speak or write about music 
 than about the other arts. Music is sufficient unto itself. Endowed 
 with the insight of a Ruskin or a Pater, one may say something 
 worth while about painting. But in music the line between mere 
 statistical analysis and sentimental rhapsody must be drawn with 
 exceeding care. If the subject matter be clearly presented and the 
 analyses true — allowance being made for honest difference of opin- 
 ion — every hope will be realized. 
 
 The author's gratitude is herewith expressed to Mr. Percy Lee 
 Atherton for his critical revision of the text and to Professor William 
 C. Heilman for valuable assistance in selecting and preparing the 
 musical illustrations. 
 
 W. R. S. 
 Cambridge, Massachusetts 
 June, 1919 
 
Contents 
 
 I. Preliminaet Considerations 1 
 
 n. The Folk-Song 19 
 
 m. Polyphonic Music; Sebastian Bach, the Fugue . 33 
 
 IV. The Musical Sentence 50 
 
 V. The Two-Part and Theee-Pakt Fobms .... 69 
 
 VI. The Classical and the Modern Suite .... 73 
 
 VII. The Rondo Form 81 
 
 Vm. The Variation Form 85 
 
 IX. The Sonata-Form and Its Founders — Emmanuel 
 
 Bach and Haydn 91 
 
 X. Mozart. The Perfection of Classic Structure 
 
 AND Style . 108 
 
 XI. Beethoven, the Tone-Poet 122 
 
 Xn. The Romantic Composers. Schubert, Weber . . 160 
 
 Xni. Schumann and Mendelssohn 172 
 
 XrV. Chopin and Pianoforte Style 188 
 
 XV. Berlioz and Liszt. Program Music 202 
 
 XVI. Brahms 228 
 
 XVII. Cesar Franck 255 
 
 XVni. The Modern French School— dTndy and Debussy 280 
 
 XIX. National Schools — Russian, Bohemian and 
 
 Scandinavian 300 
 
 XX. The Varied Tendencies of Modern Music . . . 326 
 
Music is the universal language of mankind. 
 
 — ^LoNGFEIiLOW. 
 
 Music can noble hints impart. 
 Engender fury, kindle love; 
 With unsuspected eloquence can move 
 And manage all the man with secret art. 
 
 — Addison. 
 
 Music is the sound of the circulation in nature's veins. It is the flux which 
 melts nature. Men dance to it, glasses ring and vibrate, and the fields seem to 
 undulate. The healthy ear always hears it, nearer or wmtb remote. 
 
 — ^Thoreau. 
 
 To strike all this life dead. 
 
 Run mercury into a mold like lead. 
 
 And henceforth have the plain result to show — 
 
 How we Feel hard and fast, and what we Know — 
 
 This were the prize, and is the puzde! — which 
 
 Music essays to solve. 
 
 — ^Browning. 
 
 AU music is what avxikes from you when you are reminded by the instruments. 
 
 — Whitman. 
 
Music: an Art and a Language 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PRELIMmARY CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 IN approaxiing the study of any subject we may fairly expect 
 that this subject shall be defined, although some one has iron- 
 ically remarked that every definition is a misfortune. Music-lovers, 
 however, will rejoice that their favorite art is spared such a misfor- 
 tune, for it can not be defined. We know the factors of which music 
 is constituted, rhythm and sound; and we can trace the historic steps 
 by which methods of presentation and of style have beensoperfected 
 that by means of this two-fold material the emotions and aspirations 
 of human beings may be expressed and permanently recorded. We 
 realize, and with our inborn equipment can appreciate, the moving 
 power of music; but to define, in the usual sense of the term defini- 
 tion, what music really is, will be forever impossible. The fact indeed 
 that music — like love, electricity and other elemental forces- — cannot 
 be defined is its special glory. It is a pecuKar, mysterious power;* 
 quite in a class by itself, although with certain aspects which it shares 
 with the other arts. The writings of aU the great poets, such as Mil- 
 ton, Shakespeare, Browning and Whitman, abound in eloquent trib- 
 utes to the power and influence of music, but it is noticeable that no 
 one attempts to define it. The mystery of music must be approached 
 with reverence and music must be loved for itself with perfect sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 Some insight, however, may be gained into the nature of music 
 by a clear recognition of what it is not, and by a comparison with the 
 more definite and fa mili ar arts. Music consists of the intangible and 
 elusive factors of rhythm and sound; in this way differing fundamen- 
 tally from the concrete static arts such as architecture, sculpture and 
 painting. Furthermore, instrumental music, i.e.,music freed from a 
 dependence on words, is not an exact language like prose and poetry. 
 
 ' For suggestive comments on this point see the essays Harmonie et Melodie by 
 Saint-Saens, Chapters I and II. 
 
2 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 It speaks to our feelings and imaginations, as it were by suggestion; 
 reaching for this very reason depths of our being quite beyond the 
 power of mere words. No one can define rhythm except by saying 
 that rhythm, in the sense of motion, is the fundamental fact in the 
 universe and in all life, both physical and human. Everything in the 
 heavens above and in the earth beneath is in ceaseless motion and 
 change; nothing remains the same for two consecutive seconds. 
 Even the component parts of material — such as stone and wood, 
 which we ordinarily speak of as concrete and stationary — are 
 whirling about with ceaseless energy, and often in perfect rhythm. 
 Thus we see how natural and vital is the art of music, for it is insep- 
 arably connected with life itself. 
 
 As for the other factor, sound is one of the most elemental and 
 mysterious of all physical phenomena.^ When the air is set in motion 
 by the vibration of certain bodies of wood, metal and other material, 
 we know that sound waves, striking upon the tympanum of the ear, 
 penetrate to the brain and imagination. Sound is a reciprocal phe- 
 nomenon; for, even if there were systematic activity of vibrating 
 bodies, there could be no sound without some one to hear it.^ Good 
 musicians are known for their power of keen and discriminating 
 hearing; and the ear,' as Saint-Saens says, is the sole avenue of ap- 
 proach to the musical sense. The first ambition for one who would 
 appreciate music should be to cultivate this power of hearing. 
 It is quite possible to be stone-deaf outwardly and yet hear most 
 beautiful sounds within the brain. This was approximately the 
 case with Beethoven after his thirtieth year. On the other hand, 
 many people have a perfect outward apparatus for hearing but noth- 
 ing is registered within. 
 
 Combarieu, the French aesthetician, defines music as "the art 
 of thinking in tones. "^ There is food for thought in this' statement, 
 but it seems to leave out one very important factor — namely, the 
 emotional. Every great musical composition reveals a carefully 
 
 ' See Chapter II of Gurney's Power of Sound, a book remarkable for its in- 
 sight. 
 
 2 It is understood that this statement is made in a subjective rather than a 
 purely physical sense. See the Century Dictionary under Sound. 
 
 3 II y a done, dans I'art des sons, quelque chose qui traverse I'oreille comme 
 un portique, la raison comme im vestibule et qui va plus loin. 
 
 Habmonie et Melodie, Chapter II. 
 * La musique, set lots, son evolution, by Jules Combarieu. 
 
PRELrMINARY CONSIDERATIONS 3 
 
 plaoned and perfect balance between the emotional and intellectual 
 elements. And yet the basic impulse for the creation of music is 
 an em.otional one; and, of aU the arts, music makes the most direct 
 appeal to the emotions and to those shadowy, but real portions of 
 our being called the imagination and the soul. Emotion is as indis- 
 pensable to music as love to religion. Just as there can be no really 
 great art without passion, so we can not imagine music without 
 all the emotions of mankind: their loves, joys, sorrows, hatreds, 
 ideals and subtle fancies. Music, in fact, is a presentation of emo- 
 tional experience, fashioned and controlled by an overruling in- 
 tellectual power. 
 
 We can now foresee, though at first dimly, what is to be our line 
 of approach to this mystery. One of the peculiar characteristics of 
 music is that it is both the most natural and least artificial of the 
 arts, and as well the most com.plicated and subtle. On the one hand 
 it is the most natural and direct, because the materials of which 
 it is constituted — that is, sound and rhythm — make an instinc- 
 tive appeal to every normally equipped human being, i Every one 
 likes to listen to beautiful sounds merely for their sensuous effect, 
 just as everyone likes to look at the blue sky, the green grass and the 
 changing hues of a sunset; so the rhythm of music, akin to the human 
 heart-beat and to the ceaseless change and motion, which is the 
 basic fact in all life, appeals at once to our own physical vitality. 
 This fact may be observed at a symphony concert where so many 
 people are wagging their heads, beating time with their hands or even 
 tapping on the floor with their feet; a habit which shows a rudimen- 
 tary love of music but which for obvious reasons is not to be com- 
 mended. On the other hand, music is the most complicated of all the 
 arts from the nature of its constituent parts — intangible, evanescent 
 sounds and rhythms — and from the subtle grammar and structure 
 by which these factors are used as means of personal communication. 
 This grammar of music, i. e., its methods of structure and of presen- 
 tation, has been worked out through centuries of free experimenta- 
 tion on the part of some of the best minds in the world, and thus any 
 great musical composition is an intellectual achievement of high 
 rank. Behind the sensuous factors, sound and rhythm, lies always 
 the personal message of the composer, and if we are to grasp this and 
 
 ' Just BS some people are color-blind there are those who are tone-deaf — to 
 whom, that is, music is a disagreeable noise — but they are so few as to be negli- 
 gible. 
 
4 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 to make it our own, we must go with him hand in hand so that the 
 music actually lives again in our minds and imaginations. The prac- 
 tical inference from this dual nature of the art we are considering is 
 clear; everyone can derive a large amount of genuine pleasure and 
 even spiritual exaltation, can feel himself under the influence of a 
 strong tonic force, merely by putting .himself in contact with music, 
 by opening his ears and drinking in the sounds and rhythms in their 
 marvellous variety. The all-sufficient reason for the lack of a complete 
 appreciation of music is that so many people stop at this point, i.e. 
 for them music is a sensuous art and nothing more. Wagner himself, 
 in fact, is on record in a letter to Liszt as saying, in regard to the 
 appreciation of his operas: "I require nothing from the public but 
 healthy senses and a human heart." Although this may be partic- 
 ularly true of opera, which is a composite form of art, making so 
 varied an appeal to the participant that everyone can get something 
 from its picture of life — historical, legendary, even fictitious — as well 
 as from the actors, the costumes and the story, the statement is cer- 
 tainly not applicable to what is called absolute music, where music 
 is disassiociated from the gtiiding help of words, and expressed by the 
 media of orchestra, string quartet, pianoforte, and various ensemble 
 groups. For in addition to its sensuous appeal, music is a language 
 used as a means of personal expression; sometimes in the natureof an 
 intimate soUloquy, but far more^ often as a direct means of commu- 
 nication between the mind and soul of the composer and of the lis- 
 tener. To say that we understand the message expressed in this 
 language just because we happen to like beautiful sounds and stim- 
 ulating rhythms is surely to be our own dupes. We might as well say 
 that because we enjoy hearing Italians or Frenchmen speak their own 
 beautiful languages we are understanding what they say. The ques- 
 tion, therefore, faces us: how shall we learn this mysterious language 
 so as readily to understand it? And the answer is equally inevitable: 
 by learning something of the material of which it is composed, and 
 above aU, the fundamental principles of its structure. 
 
 In attempting to carry out this simple direction, however, we are 
 confronted by another of the peculiar characteristics of music. Music, 
 in distinction from the static, concrete and imitative arts, is always 
 in motion, and to follow it requires an intensity of concentration and 
 an accuracy of memory which can be acquired, but for which, like 
 most good things, we have to work. We all know the adage that 
 "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and that any work of art must 
 
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIOSrS 6 
 
 be recreated in the imagination of the participant. The difficulty of 
 this process of recreation, as applied to music, is that we have, derived 
 from our ordinary daily experiences, so little to help us. Anyone can 
 begin, at least, to understand a work of architecture; it must have 
 doors and windows, and should conform to practical ideas of struc- 
 ture. In like manner, a painting, either a portrait or a landscape, 
 must show some correspondence with nature herself, and so we have 
 definite standards to help our imagination. But music has worked 
 out its own laws which are those of pvure fancy, having little to do 
 with other forms of thought; and unless we know something of the 
 constructive principles, instead of recreating the work before us, we 
 are simply lost — "drowned in a sea of sound" — often rudely shaken 
 up by the rhythms, but far from understanding what the music is 
 rfiaUy saying. As the well-known critic, Santayana, wittily says, "To 
 most people music is a drowsy revery relieved by nervous thrills." 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the peculiar natm-e of music and the 
 difficulty of gaining logical impressions as the sounds and rhythms 
 flood in upon us, there is one simple form of cooperation which solves 
 most of the difficulties; that is, familiarity. It is the duty of the com- 
 poser so to express himself, to make his meaning so clear, that we can 
 receive it with a minimum of mental friction if we can only get to 
 know the music. All really good music corresponds to such a standard; 
 that is, if it is needlessly involved, abstruse, diffuse, or turgid, it is in 
 am far not music of the highest artistic worth. In this connection we 
 must always remember that music does not "stay put," like a picture 
 on the wall. We cannot walk through it, as is the case with a cathe- 
 dral; tiu-n back, as in a book; touch it, as with a statue. It is not the 
 expression of more or less definite ideas, such as we find in prose and 
 poetry. On the other hand, it rushes upon us with the impassioned 
 spirit of an eloquent orator, and what we get from it depends almost 
 entirely upon our own intensity of application and upon our knowl- 
 edge of the themes and of the general purpose of the work. Only 
 with increased familiarity does the architecture stand revealed. 
 Beethoven, it is said, when once asked the meaning of a sonata of his, 
 played it over again and replied, "It means that." Music is itself. 
 The question for every music-lover is: can I equip myself in such a 
 way as to feel at home in this language, to receive the message as 
 directly as possible, and finally with perfect ease and satisfaction? 
 This equipment demands a strong, accurate memory, a keen power 
 of discrimination and a sympathetic, open mind. 
 
6 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Another paradoxical characteristic of music on which it is inter- 
 esting to reflect is this: Music is the oldest as well as the youngest of 
 the arts, i.e., it has always' existed generically, and all human beings 
 born, as they are, with a musical instrument — the voice — are 
 ipso facto musicians; and yet in boundless scope of possibilities it is 
 just in its infancy. For who can limit the combinations of sound and 
 rhythm, or forecast the range of the human imagination? The crea- 
 tive fancy of the composer is always in advance of contemporary 
 taste and criticism. Hence, in listening to new music, we should 
 beware of reckless assertions of personal preference. The first 
 question, in the presence of an elaborate work of music, should never 
 be, "Do I like it or not?" but "Do I understand it?" "Is the 
 music conveying a logical message to me, or is it merely a sea of 
 sound?" The first and last article in the music-lover's creed, I repeat, 
 should be familiarity. When we thoroughly know a symphony, 
 symphonic poem or sonata so that, for example, we can sing the 
 themes to ourselves, the music will reveal itself. The difference 
 between the trained listener and the person of merely general musi- 
 cal tendencies is that the former gains a definite meaning from 
 the music often at a first hearing; whereas, to the latter, many 
 hearings are necessary before he can make head or tail of the com- 
 position. Since the creative composer of music is a thinker in 
 tones, our perceptions must be so trained that, as we listen, we make 
 sense of the fabric of sounds and rhythms. 
 
 It is evident from the foregoing observations that our approach 
 to the subject is to be on the intellectual side. Music, to be sure, is 
 an emotional art and so appeals to our emotions, but these will take 
 care of themselves. We all have a reasonable supply of emotion and 
 practically no human being is entirely deficient in the capacity for 
 being moved by music. We can, however, sharpen our wits and 
 strengthen our musical memories; for it is obvious that if we cannot 
 recognize a theme or remember it whenever it appears, often in an 
 amplified or even subtly disguised form, we are in no condition to 
 follow and appreciate the logical growth and development of the 
 themes themselves which, in a work of music, are just as real beings 
 as the "dramatis personae" in a play. The would-be appreciator 
 should early recognize the fact that listening to music is by no means 
 passive, a means of light amusement or to pass the time, but demands 
 
 ' From earliest times, mothers have doubtless crooned to their infanta in in- 
 stinctive lullabies. 
 
PRELIMTNAllY CONSIDERATIONS 7 
 
 co-operation of an active nature. Whether or not we have the emo- 
 tional capacity of a creator of music may remain an open question; 
 but by systematic mental application we can, as we listen to it, get 
 from the music that sense which the composer meant to convey. Music 
 — more than the other arts — demands, to use a happy expression of 
 D. G. Mason, that we "mentally organize our sensations and ideas"; 
 for the language of music has no such fixed grammar as verbal modes 
 of expression, and the message, even when received, is suggestive 
 rather than definite. In this way only can the composition be re- 
 created in our imaginations. For acquiring this habit of mind, this 
 alertness and concentration, the start, as always, is more than halt 
 the battle. Schumann's good advice to young composers may be 
 transferred to the listener: "Be sure that you invent a thoroughly 
 vital theme; the rest will grow of itself from this." Likewise in lis- 
 tening to music, one should be sure to grasp the opening theme, the 
 fundamental motive, in order to follow it intelligently and to enjoy 
 its subsequent growth into the complete work. '■ 
 
 Every piece of music, with the exception of intentionally rhap- 
 sodic utterances, begins with some group of notes of distinct rhyth- 
 mic and melodic interest, which is the germ — the generative force — 
 of the whole, and which is comparable to the text of a sermon or the 
 subject of a drama. This introductory group of notes is called, 
 technically, a motive or moving force and may be defined as the 
 simplest unit of imaginative life in terms of rhythm and sound, which 
 instantly impresses itself upon our consciousness and, when heard 
 several times, cannot be forgotten or confused with any other motive. 
 A musical theme — a longer sweep of thought (to be explained later) 
 — may consist of several motives of which the first is generally the 
 most important. Just here lies the difference between the Heaven- 
 born themes of a truly creative composer and the bundle of notes 
 put forth by lesser men. These living themes pierce our imagina- 
 tions and sing in our memories, sometimes for years, whereas the 
 inept and flabby tunes of certain so-called composers make no strong 
 impression and are forgotten almost as soon as heard. Motives 
 
 1 In this connection we cannot refrain from suggesting the improvement which 
 should be made in the concert manners of the public. How often, at the begin- 
 ning of a concert, do we see people removing their wraps, looking at their neigh- 
 bors, reading the programme book, etc., instead of concentrating on the music 
 itself; with the result that the composition is often well on its way before such 
 people have found their bearings. 
 
8 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 obviously differ from each other in regard to the intervals of the 
 tones composing them, i. e., the up and down relationship in pitch, 
 the duration of the tones and their grouping into metric schemes. 
 But a real motive is always terse, concise, characteristic and preg- 
 nant with unrevealed meaning. The chief glory of such creative 
 tone-poets as Beethoven, Wagner, Brahms and Franck is that their 
 imaginations could give birth to musical offspring that live for ever 
 and are loved hke life itself. The first step, then, in the progress of 
 the appreciator of music is the recognition of the chief motive or 
 motives of a composition and the development of power to follow 
 them in their organic growth. This ability is particularly necessary 
 in modern music; for frequently all four movements of a symphony 
 or string-quartet are based upon a motive which keeps appearing — 
 often in altered form and in relationships which imply a dramatic or 
 suggestive meaning. A few of such motives are cited herewith, taken 
 from works with which, as we proceed, we shall become familiar. 
 
 Cesar Fbaitck: Symphony in D minor 
 Lento 
 
 9^ 
 
 ^-^^i ^=^ 
 
 ■0-r~ 
 
 P 
 
 iSE 
 
 ^^ 
 
 =N=^ 
 
 i 
 
 Bkahms: First Sympluyny in C minor 
 Allegro 
 
 f^--4=k^^ ^m 
 
 I 
 
 ff 
 
 «/ 
 
 §^g 
 
 HH-h v 
 
 1 1 X n - 
 
 =*=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 TCHAIKOWSKY; 5th Symphony 
 
 Andante - — ^ 
 
 Se^ 
 
 =p=p= 
 
 J: 
 
 p pesante e tenuto sempre 
 
PRELIMIKARY CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 Dyoras.: Symphony I'rom the New World 
 Allegro molto marcato Eg" . t _ 
 
 P^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 t=P= 
 
 «/ 
 
 = / 
 
 P"* 
 
 ^ 
 
 -'^J-S- 
 
 It is now necessary for the student to know something about the 
 constructive principles by which large works of music are fashioned; 
 not so much that he could compose these works himself, even if he 
 had the inspiration, but to know enough, so that the reception of the 
 music is not a haphazard activity but an intellectual achievement, 
 second only to that of the original creator. Every genuine work of 
 art in whatever medium, stone, color, word or tone, must exhibit 
 unity of general effect with variety of detail. That is, the material 
 must hold together, be coherent and convince the participant of the 
 logical design of the artist; not fall apart as might a bad building, 
 or be diffuse as a poorly written essay. And yet, with this coherence, 
 there must always be stimulating and refreshing variety; for a too 
 constant insistence on the main material produces intolerable mo- 
 notony, such as the "damnable iteration" of a mediocre prose work 
 or the harping away on one theme by the hack composer. In no art 
 more than music is this dual standard of greater importance, and in 
 no art more diflScult to attain. For the raw material of music, fleet- 
 ing rhythms and waves of sound, is in its very nature most inco- 
 herent. Here we are not deaUng with the concrete, tangible and 
 definite material which is available for all the other arts, but with 
 something intangible and elusive. We know from the historical 
 record* of musical development, that, only after centuries of experi- 
 mentation conducted by some of the best intellects in Europe, was 
 suflicient coherence gained so that there could be composed music 
 which would compare with the simplest modern hymn-tune or part- 
 song. And this was long after each of the other arts — architecture, 
 sculpture, painting and literature — had reached points of attain- 
 ment which, in many respects, have never since been equalled. 
 
 Before cajrying our 'inquiries further, something must be said 
 about the two mnin lines of musical development which led up to 
 
 ' Compare Parry's Eoolution of the Art of Music, passim and D. G. Mason's 
 Beethoven and his Forerunners, Chapter I. 
 
10 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 music as we know it to-day. These tendencies are designated by the 
 terms Monophonic and Polyphonic. By monophonic,^ from Greek 
 words signifying a "single voice," is meant music consisting of a 
 single melodic line, as in the whole field of folk-songs (which orig- 
 inally were always unaccompanied) or in the unison chants of the 
 Greeks and the Gregorian tones of the early church, in which there is 
 one melody though many voices may unite in singing it. Later we 
 shall see what important principles for the growth of instrumental 
 music were borrowed from the instinctive practise associated with 
 the folk-song and folk-dance. But history makes clear that the 
 fundamental principles of musical coherence were worked out in the 
 field of music known as the Polyphonic. By this term, as the deriv- 
 ation implies, is meant music the fabric of which is made by the 
 interweaving of several independent melodies. For many centuries 
 the most reliable instrument was the human voice and the only 
 art-music, i.e., music which was the result of conscious mental and 
 artistic endeavor, was vocal music for groups of unaccompanied 
 voices in the liturgy of the church. About the tenth century, musi- 
 cians tried the crude experiment,^ called Organum, of making two 
 groups of singers move in parallel fifths e. g., 
 
 
 
 -fi»- 
 
 JS. 
 
 -ffl- 
 
 -12- 
 
 JZ- 
 
 JO- 
 
 
 s- 
 
 „ 
 
 
 
 -ti' 
 
 
 
 <^ 
 
 e> 
 
 c> 
 
 
 e^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 ■ • 
 
 Tu Pa txis sem - pi ter - nu3 es Fi - li us. 
 
 but during the 13th and 14th centuries a method was worked out 
 by which the introductory tune was made to generate its own sub- 
 sequent tissue. It was found that a body of singers could announce a 
 melody of a certain type and that, after they had proceeded so far, 
 a second set of singers could repeat the opening melodic phrase — 
 and so likewise often a third and a fourth set — and that aU the 
 voices could be made to blend together in a fairly harmonious whole.* 
 
 ' In comparatively recent times the term has been widened to include music in 
 which there is one chief melody to which other portions of the musical texture are 
 subordinate; e.g., the monophonic style of Chopin in whose works the chief mel- 
 ody, often in the upper voice, seems to float on underlying waves of sound. 
 
 ''■ For a complete account of these early attempts which finally led to part-writ- 
 ing see Chapter IV in the first volume of the Oxford History of Music. 
 
 ^ An historical account of this development as far as it is ascertainable may be 
 found in the fifth chapter of Pratt's History of Music. 
 
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS 11 
 
 A piece of music of this systematic structure is called a Round because 
 the singers take up the melody in rotation and at regular rhythmic 
 periods.^ The earliest specimen of a Round is the famous one "Sum- 
 mer is i-cumen in" circa 1225 (see Supplement of musical Examples 
 No. 1), which shows to what a high point of perfection — consid- 
 ering those early days — musicians had brought their art. For, at 
 any rate, by these systematic, imitative repetitions they had secured 
 the first reqiiisite of all music, coherence. This principle, once it was 
 sanctioned by growing musical instinct, and approved by convention, 
 was developed into such well-known types of polyphonic music as 
 the Canon, the Invention and the Fugue; terms which will be fuUy 
 explained later on. It is of more than passing interest to realize that 
 these structural principles of music were worked out in the same 
 locaUty — Northern France and the Netherlands, and by kindred 
 intellects — as witnessed the growth of Gothic architecture; and there 
 is a fundamental affinity between the interweavings of polyphonic 
 or, as it is often cailed,contrapuntal^ music and the stone traceries in 
 medieval cathedrals. During the 13th and 14th centimes northern 
 France, with Paris as its centre, was the most cultivated part of 
 Europe, and the Flemish cities of Cambrai, Tournai, Louvain and 
 Antwerp will always be renowned in the history of art, as the birth- 
 place of Gothic architecture, of modern painting and of polyphonic 
 music* A great deal of the impetus towards the systematic repe- 
 tition of the voice parts must have been caused by practical neces- 
 sity (thus justifying the old adage) ; for, before the days of printed 
 music, or even of a weU-estabhshed tradition — when everything 
 had to be laboriously written out or transmitted orally — whole 
 compositions could be rendered by the singers through the simple 
 device of remembering the introductory theme and joining in from 
 memory whenever their turn came. Compositions in fact were often 
 
 ' Consult the article on the Round in Orove's Dictionary. 
 
 ' A rather crude English adaptation of the Latin term " Functus contra 
 punctiun " which refers to the notes as punctus (plural) or dots which were pricked 
 with a stjrlus into the medieval manuscripts. In this phrase the emphasis is on the 
 contra, signifying a combination of different melodies and rhythms, and calling 
 attention to that higher importance which, everywhere in art, is caused by con- 
 trasted elements. 
 
 ' For an interesting account of this tripartite activity see Naumann's History 
 of MuHc. 
 
12 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 SO recorded.^ The following old English round (circa 1609) shows 
 clearly how the voices entered in rotation. 
 
 I 
 
 ^- 
 
 & 
 
 Three blind 
 
 three 
 
 blind mice 
 
 i 
 
 i=^=t 
 
 lEE 
 
 a-round thrice, 
 
 around thrice ; The 
 
 
 :p=pE: 
 
 3 
 
 Z^=^^ 
 
 =t: 
 
 mil-ler and his mer-ryiold wife ne'er laugh'd so much in all their life. 
 For a Round in strict canonic imitation by the famous Enghsh 
 composer WilHam Byrd (1542-1623) see the Supplement, Example 
 No. 2. In due time singers of that period became Ukewise very pro- 
 ficient in improvizing free parts about a given melody or cawiMs/ir?reMs, 
 a practice indicated by the term "musica ficta" which was beneficial 
 in stimulating the imagination to a genuine musical activity. 
 
 We can now begin to reaUze the importance of polyphonic music. 
 In fact, it is not too much to assert that systematic repetition in some 
 form or other (several aspects of which we shall describe in due season) 
 is the most important constructive principle in music, necessitated 
 by the very nature of the material. This statement can be corrob- 
 orated by a glance at almost any page of music considered merely 
 as a pattern, quite regardless how the notes sound. We observe at 
 once that some portions of the page look much or exactly like other 
 portions. Frequently whole movements or long parts of a work are 
 based entirely upon some terse and characteristic motive. Famous 
 examples of this practise are the first movement of Beethoven's 
 Fifth Symphony in C minor which, with certain subsidiary themes to 
 afford contrast, is entirely based on the motive: 
 
 ^5^ 
 
 £E^ 
 
 ^tt 
 
 Eg: 
 
 the Finale of Wagner's opera The Valkyrie (see Supplement, Example 
 No. 3) the chief motive of which 
 
 lHu 
 
 
 % 
 
 3S 
 
 I 
 
 ' See the facsimile of the original manuscript of " Summer is i-cumen in " cited 
 in the first volume of the Oxford History of Music, pp. 326-332. 
 
PRELIMmARY CONSIDERATIONS 13 
 
 is presented in every phase of modulatory and rhythmic develop- 
 ment, and the middle portion of the Reconnaissance from Schu- 
 mann's Camaval (see Supplement, Example No. 4.) 
 
 Music, just because its substance is so elusive and requires such 
 alert attention on the part of the listener, cannot continually present 
 new material' without becoming diffuse; but instead, must make its 
 impression by varied emphasis upon the main thought. Otherwise 
 it would become so discursive that one could not possibly follow it. 
 From these historical facts as to the structure of music certain infer- 
 ences may be drawn; the vital importance of which to the Hstener 
 can hardly be exaggerated. As polyphonic treatment (the imitation 
 and interweaving of independent melodic lines) is the foundation 
 of any large work of music, be it symphony, symphonic poem or 
 string quartet, so the hstener must acquire what may be called a 
 polyphonic ear. For with the majority of listeners, the whole diflB- 
 culty and the cause of their dissatisfaction with so-called "classic 
 music" is merely lack of equipment. Everyone can hear the tune in 
 the soprano or upper voice, for the intensity of pitch makes it stand 
 out with telling effect; and, as a fact, many of the best tunes in mus- 
 ical Uterature are so placed. But how about the tune when it is in 
 the bass as is the case so frequently in Beethoven's Symphonies or 
 in Wagner's Operas? Some of the most eloquent parts of the musical 
 message are, indeed, often in the bass, the foundationVoice, and yet 
 these are entirely ignored by the average hstener. Then what of the 
 inner voices; and what — most important of all — when there are 
 beautiful melodies in all parts of the musical fabric, often sounding 
 simultaneously, as in such well-known works as C^sar Franck's 
 Symphony in D minor and Wagner's Prelude to the Master singers! 
 As we face these questions squarely the need for the listener of spe- 
 cial training in alertness and concentration is seH-evident. A very 
 small proportion of those who attend a symphony concert begin to 
 get their money's worth — to put the matter on a perfectly prac- 
 tical plane — for at least 50% of the musical structure is presented 
 to ears without capacity for receiving it. In regard to any work of 
 large dimensions the final test is this: can we sing all the themes 
 and follow them in their polyphonic development? Then only are we 
 really acquainted with the work; then only, in regard to personal 
 like or dislike, have we any right to pass judgment upon it. The 
 
 ' For a simple, charming example of persistent use of a motive see Schumann's 
 pianoforte piece Kind im Mnachlutmnem, No. 12 of the KinderseeiMn. 
 
14 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 absurd attitude, far too common, of hasty, ill-considered criticism is 
 illustrated by the fact that while Brahms is said to have worked for 
 ten years on that Titanic creation, his First Symphony, yet persons 
 will hear it once and have the audacity to say they do not like it. 
 As well stroll through Chartres Cathedral and say they did not think 
 much of it! 
 
 We must now speak of the two other manifestations of the prin- 
 ciple of repetition. Fundamentally, to be sure, they are not connected 
 with polyphonic music; the third type, in fact, — restatement 
 after contrast — being instinctively worked out in the Folk-Song 
 (as will be made plain later) and definitely ratified as a structural 
 principle by the Itahan opera composer Alessandro Scarlatti in the 
 well-known Aria da capo. These further applications of the principle 
 of imitation are Transposition, i.e., the repetition of the melodic out- 
 line, and often of the whole harmonic fabric, by shifting it up or 
 down the scale; and the Restatement of the original melody after an 
 intervening part in contrast, thus making a piece of music, the for- 
 mula for which may be indicated by A, B, A. Anyone at all famihar 
 with musical literature must have observed both of these devices for 
 securing coherence and organic unity; in fact, the principle of restate- 
 ment after contrast is at the foundation of any large work, and 
 suppUes the connecting link between the structure of the Folk-Song 
 and that of the most elaborate modern music. A convincing illus- 
 tration of the use of Transposition may be found in Schumann's 
 Arabesque, 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 ^fn~^ 
 
 
 fip 
 
 i 
 
 |=^:JiJ=z=^ 
 
 
PRELnmsrARY considerations 
 
 16 
 
 and in the opening theme of Beethoven's WaMstein Sonata, op. 
 53. 
 
 Allegro con brio 
 
 V V w b V -#■ -*!- -1^- -#- -J- -«i- -S- \>-^^-^^-ii-^J-d- 
 
 It w£is a favorite device of Beethoven to impress the main theme 
 upon the hearer by definite repetitions on various degrees of the 
 scale.^ For an elaborate example of Transposition nothing can sur- 
 pass the opening movement of C6sar Franck's D Minor Symphony, 
 the entire first part of which consists of a Uteral repetition in F minor 
 of what has been previously announced in D minor. 
 
 1 Another well-known example is the first theme of the first movement of the 
 Smujta in F vmwr (Ap'paamnata) op. 57. This the student can look up for himself. 
 
16 MUSIC: AN ABT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Pieces of music which embody the principle of Restatement after 
 Contrast are so numerous that the question is merely one of select- 
 ing the clearest examples. In the Folk-Songs of every nation, as 
 soon as they had passed beyond the stage of a monotonous reitera- 
 tion of some phrase which pleased the fancy, e. g. 
 
 ad infinitum! 
 
 we find hardly one in which there is not a similarity between the 
 closing measures and something which had gone before. (See Sup- 
 plement, Example No. 6.) For the most elementary artistic experi- 
 ence would estabhsh the fact that the only way to avoid a monoto- 
 nous repetition of the same theme is to change to a diflferent one. 
 And the next step is equally axiomatic — that, presupposing the 
 first theme gives pleasure on its initial appearance, it wUl be heard 
 with heightened pleasure at its reappearance after intervening con- 
 trast. A psychological principle is herein involved which cannot be 
 proved but which is self-justified by its own reasonableness and is 
 further exempUfied by many experiences in daily life. Sweet things 
 taste the sweeter after a contrast with something acid; we like to 
 revisit old scenes and to return home after a vacation. No dehght 
 is keener than the renewal of some aesthetic experience after its tem- 
 porary effacement through a change of appeal.* This practice is 
 associated with the inherent demand, spoken of above, for Variety 
 in Unity. No theme is of sufficient import to bear constant repeti- 
 tion; in fact, the more eloquent it is, the more sated should we become 
 if it were continued overlong. Monotony, furthermore, is less tol- 
 erable in music than in the other arts because music cuts deeper, 
 because the ear is so sensitive an organ and because we have no way 
 of shutting off sound. If a particular sight or scene displeases, we 
 can close our eyelids; but the ear is entirely unprotected and the 
 only way to escape annoying sounds is to take to flight.^ We inevi- 
 tably crave contrast, change of sensation; and nothing gives more 
 organic unity than a return to whatever impressed us at the outset. 
 This cycUc form of musical expression, early discovered through 
 
 ' For some additional comments on this broad principle see the first Chapter 
 (passim) of Parry's Evolution of the Art of Music. 
 
 ^ Everyone has experienced the agony of hearing the beginner practice, in an 
 adjoining room, the same piece for hours at a time I 
 
PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 17 
 
 free experimentation, has remained the leading principle in all 
 modern works, and -^ because derived directly irom life and nature 
 — must be permanent. We return whence we came; everything 
 goes in circles. We can now understand still more the need of a strong 
 and accurate memory; for if we do not know whether or not we have 
 ever heard a theme, obviously the keen pleasure of welcoming it 
 anew is lost to us. Furthermore, this principle of Restatement has 
 in modern music some very subtle uses, and presupposes the acqui- 
 sition of a real power of reminiscence. For exam.ple, Wagner's tone- 
 drama of Tristan and Isolde begins with this haunting motive 
 Lento e languido ~^^ 
 
 which, with its dual melodic lines, typifies the passionate love of the 
 two chief characters in the story. After three hours or more of 
 tragic action and musical development this motive is again intro- 
 duced in the very closing measures of the drama, to show that even in 
 the presence of transfiguring death this love is still their guiding power. 
 Allegro moderato 
 
18 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 For those who can appreciate the significance of such treatment, 
 this reminiscence is one of the most poignant effects in all musical 
 drama. The fascinating orchestral Scherzo of Richard Strauss's Till 
 Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks likewise begins with a characteristic 
 motto, 
 
 Moderato 
 
 which says, in the language of music — I now have a story to tell 
 you of a certain freakish character; and then we are regaled with 
 the musical portrayal of a series of Till's pranks. As an Epilogue, 
 Strauss improAdses on this opening theme as much as to say — you 
 have listened to my musical story, now let us indulge in some reflec- 
 tions as to the fate of poor Till, for after all he was a good fellow. 
 (See Supplement, Example No. 6.) 
 
 It is evident, therefore, from the foregoing examples that the 
 basic principles of musical structure are coherence, refreshing variety 
 and such unity of general impression as may be gained chiefly by a 
 restatement, after contrast, of themes previously heard. Our subse- 
 quent study will simply illustrate these natural laws of music in 
 their wider application. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 19 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 THE FOLK-SONG. 
 
 TN the preceding chapter we made some general inquiries into the 
 -*- natm-e of music and of those methods by which emotion and thought 
 are expressed. We shall assum.e therefore that the following facts are 
 estabhshed: that in music, by reason of the intangibility and elusive- 
 ness of the material, sound and rhythm, the principle of Unity in Va- 
 riety is of paramount importance; and that the hearer, it he would 
 grasp the message expressed by these sounds and rhythms, must make 
 a conscious effort of cooperation and not be content with mere dreamy 
 apathy. Furthermore, that Unity and Coherence are gained in music 
 by applying the principle of systematic Repetition or Imitation. (We 
 shaU see, as we continue, how Variety has been secured by contrasting 
 themes, by episodical passages and by various devices of rhythmic and 
 harmonic development.) 
 
 We may now investigate the growth of musical structure and ex- 
 pression, as manifested in the fields of the Folk-Song and of Poly- 
 phonic music, beginning with the Folk-Song — historically the older 
 and more elemental in its appeal. We cannot imagine the time when 
 human beings did not use their voices in some form of emotional out- 
 pouring; and, as far back as there are any historical records, we find 
 traces of such activity. For many centuries these rude cries of sav- 
 age races were far removed from anything like artistic design, but 
 the advance towards coherence and symmetry was always the result 
 of free experimentation — hence vitally connected with the emotions 
 and mental processes of all human effort. One of the most significant 
 of the many sayings attributed to Daniel Webster is that "Sovereignty 
 rests with the people"; and it is an interesting inquiry to see what 
 wider apphcation may be made of this statement in the field of art. 
 For it is a fact that there has seldom been an important school of music, 
 so-called — in any given place and period — which was not founded on 
 the emotional traits, the aspirations and the ideals of the people. Surely 
 one of the distinct by-products of the Great War is to be the emancipa- 
 tion of the art of music, along with that of aU the other arts. Such a 
 realization of its nature and powers will result that it shall no longer 
 
20 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 be a mere exotic amusement of the leisure and wealthy classes, but 
 shall be brought into direct touch with the rank and i&le of the people; 
 even, if you will, with the so-called "lower classes" — that part of 
 humanity from which, indeed, it sprung and with which it really be- 
 longs — just human beings, just people. So in music also we may as- 
 sert that "Sovereignty rests with the people." Although all art re- 
 flects popular sentiment to a certain extent, in no one of the arts • — as 
 painting, sculpture and architecture — is there such a vital record of 
 the emotions and artistic instincts of humanity as we find in the realm 
 of folk-song.^ During the early period of Church music, while the- 
 orists and scholars were struggling with the intricate problems of poly- 
 phonic style, the people in their daUy secular life were finding an 
 outlet for their emotions, for their joys and sorrows, in song and 
 in dance. This instinct for musical expression is universal, and 
 just because the products of such activity were unfettered by rules, 
 they exercised in process of time much influence upon the development 
 of modern style. Folk-songs are characterized by a freshness and 
 simplicity, a directness of utterance, which are seldom attained by 
 the conscious efforts of genius. "Listen carefully to all folk-songs," 
 says Schumann. "They are a storehouse of beautiful melody, and un- 
 fold to the mind the innate character of the different peoples." They 
 are like wild flowers blooming unheeded by the wayside, the product 
 of the race rather than the individual, and for centuries were only 
 slightly known to cultivated musicians. It should be understood 
 that words and music were inextricably bound together and that,, 
 with both, dancing was naturally associated; the very essence of a 
 people's life being expressed by this tripartite activity. Tonal va- 
 riety is a marked feature in folk-songs, many of them being in the old 
 Gregorian modes, while others show a decided inclination to our mod- 
 ern major and minor scales. Great is the historical importance of 
 Folk-music, because in it we see a dawning recognition of the prin- 
 ciples of instrumental form, i.e., the need of balanced phrases, caused 
 in the songs by the metrical structm-e of the words, and in the dances 
 by the symmetrical movements of the body; a recognition above all, 
 of the application of a definite system of tonal-centres, and of repeti- 
 tion after contrast. In fact, as we look back it is evident that the out- 
 lines of our most important design, that known as the Sonata Form 
 are — in a rudimentary state — found in folk-music. Folk-melodies and 
 
 ' For an eloquent presentation of the significance of Folk-music see the article 
 by Henry F. Gilbert in the Musical Quarterly for October, 1917. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 21 
 
 rhythms play a large part in the music of Haydn, Schubert, Chopin, 
 Liszt, Brahms, Grieg, Tchaikowsky and Dvorak. It seems as if mod- 
 ern composers were doing for music what Luther Burbank has done 
 for plant lite; for by grafting modern thought and feeling on to the 
 parent stock of popular music, they have secured a vigor attainable 
 in no other way. Thus some of the noblest melodies of Brahms, 
 Grieg, and Tchaikowsky are actual folk-tunes with sUghtvariationor 
 original melodies conceived in a folk-song spirit.^ 
 
 As music, unlike the other arts, lacks any model in the realm 
 of nature, it has had to work out its own laws, and its spontaneity 
 and directness are the result. It has not become imitative, utili- 
 tarian or bound by arbitrary conventions. As Berhoz says in the 
 Grotesques de la Musiqiie: "Music exists by itself; it has no need of 
 poetry, and if every human language were to perish, it would be none 
 the less the most poetic, the grandest and the freest of aU the arts." 
 When we reach the centuries in which definite records are available, we 
 find a wealth of folk-songs from the Continental nations : Irish, Scotch, 
 EngUsh, French, German, Itahan, Spanish, Russian, etc.^ In these 
 we can trace the transition from the old modes to our modern major 
 and minor scales; the principles of tonality and of rudimentary mod- 
 ulation, the dividing of the musical thought into periodic lengths by 
 means of cadential endings, the instinct for contrast and for the unity 
 gained by restatement. No better definition of Folk-songs can be 
 given than that of Parry in his Evolution of the Art of Mu^c where he 
 calls them "the first essays made by man in distributing his notes so 
 as to express his feeUngs in terms of design." In foLk-tunes this de- 
 sign has been dominated by the metrical phraseology of the poetic 
 stanzas with which they were associated; for between the structure 
 of melody and that of poetry there is always a close correspondence. 
 In Folk-songs, therefore, we find a growing instinct for balanced mus- 
 ical expression and, above all, an appHcation of the principle of Re- 
 statement after Contrast. The following example drawn from Irish 
 
 ' For an able account of the important role that folk-melodies are taking in 
 modem music see Chapter V of La Chanson Populaire en France by Julian Tiersot. 
 
 " The same statement is true of the Oriental nations, the Arabians, Persians 
 and Greeks, who are left out of the enumeration only because their development 
 in many respects has been along diflFerent lines from ours. For suggestive specu- 
 lations as to early music among aU nations see Primitive Music by Richard 
 Wallaschek. 
 
22 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Folk-music' — which, for emotional depth, is justly considered the 
 finest in the world — will make the point clear. 
 
 THE FLIGHT OF THE EAEXS 
 
 A 
 
 i 
 
 W- 
 
 ?23" 
 
 srii 
 
 ^ 
 
 (4) 
 
 ■•-=- 
 
 *lt 
 
 ■»^ 
 
 i 
 
 EM 
 
 (8) 
 
 Q^^- 
 
 * ^^^ : 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 (12) 
 
 :?=t 
 
 IE 
 
 S 
 
 fe 
 
 g^ 
 
 P m- 
 
 ^ 
 
 (16) 
 
 t* 
 
 =i^ 
 
 The statement is sometimes made that the principles of our 
 modern system of tonahty and of modulation are derived from Folk- 
 music. This is only partially true, for pure Folk-songs always de- 
 veloped under the influence of the old medieval modes, long before 
 the establishment of our fixed major and minor scales. Furthermore, 
 as these were single unaccompanied melodies, they showed slight 
 connection with modulation or change of key in the modern sense 
 of the term — which imphes a system of harmonization in several 
 voices. It is true that there was an instinctive and growing recog- 
 nition of the importance of the three chief tonal centres: the Tonic 
 or Keynote, the Dominant (a perfect fifth above) and the Subdom- 
 inant (a perfect fifth helow) and at times the relative minor. All 
 these changes are illustrated in the melody just cited; e.g^., in the 
 fourth measure* there is an implication of E minor, in measures 
 
 ' For illuminating comments on the Folk-music of all the English-speaking 
 peoples see Chapter XH of Ernest Walker's History of Music in England. The 
 famous Petrie collection of Irish Folk-tunes should also be consulted. 
 
 * In counting the measures of a phrase always consider the first complete measure, 
 — never a partial measure — as one. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 23 
 
 seven and eight there is a distinct modulation to D major, the Dom- 
 inant, and in the ninth measure to C major, the Subdomjnant. This 
 acceptance of other tonal centres — distant a fifth from the main 
 key-note — doubtless arose from their simpUcity and naturalness, 
 and was later sanctioned by acoustical law; the interval of a perfect 
 fifth having one of the simplest ratios (2-3), and being famihar to 
 people as the first overtone (after the octave) struck off by any 
 sounding body — such as a bell or an organ pipe. The Venetian 
 composers, notably Willaert, had also quite fuUy developed this 
 principle of Tonic, Dominant and Subdominant harmony in order 
 to give homogeneity to their antiphonal choruses. Even to-day 
 these tonal centres are still used; for they are elemental, like the 
 primitive colors of the spectroscope. But modulation, in the modern 
 sense of a free shitting of the centre of gravity to any one of the twelve 
 semitones of our chromatic scale, was not developed and accepted 
 until after the acoustical reforms of Rameau, and the system of 
 tuning keyed instruments embodied in that work called the Well- 
 tempered Clavichord of Sebastian Bach. Both these men published 
 their discoveries about the year 1720. 
 
 As we have just used the term modal, and since many Folk-songs 
 in the old modes sound peculiar or even wrong (hence the prepos- 
 terous emendations of modern editors!) because our ears can listen 
 only in terms of the fixed major and minor scales, a few words of 
 explanation concerning the nature of the medieval modes should here 
 be given. Their essential peculiarity is the freer relationship of 
 tones and semitones than is found in the definite pattern of our 
 modern scales. It is of great importance that the music-lover should 
 train himself to think naturally in these modes; for there has been a 
 significant return to their freedom and variety on the part of such 
 modern composers as Brahms, Tchaikowsky, Dvorak, d'lndy, De- 
 bussy and others, and some of their most individual effects are 
 gained through the introduction of modal types of expression. The 
 following modes are those most commonly employed in the formation 
 
 of Folk-songs. 
 
 DORIAN 
 
 i 
 
 =>^=^ 
 
 ■^ 25 &-^a-^ 
 
 PHRYGIAN 
 
 fiz=^H=^ 
 
 I 
 
24 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 ifc 
 
 i 
 
 iE 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 LYDIAN 
 
 - — ^3r 
 
 :>^3: 
 
 MIXOLYDIAN 
 
 -gi a- 
 
 AEOLIAN 
 
 -S>- =2- 
 
 lONIAN 
 
 -SI &-/8 
 
 >^3= 
 
 -IS s- 
 
 ■S-iS>- 
 
 =^= 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 The Dorian mode, at the outset, is identical with our modern 
 minor scale; its peculiarity lies in the semitone between the 6th and 
 7th degrees and the whole tone between the 7th and 8th. An excel- 
 lent example of a modern adaptation of this mode may be found in 
 Guilmant's March for organ (see Supplement, Example No. 7). The 
 mysterious opening measures of Debussy's opera Pelleas etMMisande 
 also owe their atmosphere to this mode, e. g. 
 
 Tr&s Modiri 
 
 gei 
 
 J-cJ- 
 
 :^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^-^ 
 
 :^--^- 
 
 :^=^jL 
 
 i 
 
 pp- 
 
 i 
 
 -^ 
 
 '^ 
 
 T^i-^- 
 
 
 I 
 
 iffi 
 
 The Phrygian mode is one of the most individual to our modern 
 ears with its first step a semitone and with the whole tone between the 
 7th and 8th degrees. Under the influence of harmonic development 
 there was worked out a cadence, known as Phrygian, which is often 
 found in modern music, e. g. 
 
i 
 
 -^ 
 
 THE FOLK-SONG 
 
 26 
 
 P 
 
 =f= 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
 The opening measures of the slow movement of Brahms's Fourth 
 Symphony are an excellent example of a melody in the Phrygian 
 mode, e. g. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Andaiiie moderato 
 
 - ^s^^i- 
 
 i=l 
 
 ^-ir 
 
 m^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 y Horns 
 
 gfc 
 
 ^L^'f- f ^^-^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 y 
 
 :t= t 
 
 i?-_t^* 
 
 :i ^r h=na^ 
 
 I 
 
 t^ 
 
 t^ 
 
 M 
 
 ! I ! ^ 
 
 dim. p 
 
 ^: 
 
 -w- -»- -w- -w- 
 
 17 r t7 r 
 
 i 
 
 p^ 
 
 * 
 
 =^E^ 
 
 )B 
 
 't=^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ttfe^^^^J^^E^ 
 
 :t 
 
 The contrast between these measures, with their archaic flavor, and 
 the sudden change in measure foiu* to the modern tonality of E major, 
 is very striking. Bach's well-known choral, Sacred Head now 
 wounded also begins in the Phrygian mode, e. g. 
 
 4= 
 
 ^ 
 
 -• — ^ 
 
 (C=P^ 
 
 -z^ 
 
 I 
 
 etc. 
 
26 
 
 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 For a beautiful modern example of this Phrygian mode see the intro- 
 duction to F. S. Converse's Dramatic Poem Job, for voices and 
 orchestra. 
 
 The Lydian mode is identical with our major scale except for the 
 semitone between the 4th and 5th degrees. That this change, how- 
 ever, gives a very characteristic effect may be seen in the passage by 
 Beethoven from his String-Quartet op. 132 — Song of Thanksgiving 
 in the Lydian mode (see Supplement Ex. No. 8). The Mixolydian 
 mode is also identical with our modern major scale except for the 
 whole'tone between the 7th and 8th degrees. This mode has had very 
 slight usage in modern music; because, with the development of 
 harmony,^ the instinct became so strong for a leading tone (the 7th 
 degree) — only a semitone distant from the upper tonic — that the 
 original whole tone has gradually disappeared. The AeoUan Mode, 
 mainly identical with our customary minor scale, has the charac- 
 teristic whole tone between the 7th and 8th degrees. Examples of 
 this mode abound in modern literature; two excellent instances being 
 the first theme of the Finale of Dvof d.k's New World Symphony, e. g.. 
 
 Allegro confuoco 
 -s>- 
 
 ^1 
 
 i^^ 
 
 t: 
 
 -4=- 
 
 S-pffc* 
 
 .a 
 
 :p^ 
 
 9^ 
 
 =^=^=^ f 
 
 -^ 
 
 x^ 
 
 ff 
 
 m- 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 and the following passage from the Legend for a capeUa voices of 
 Tchaikowsky, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 k 
 
 ^% _^_g_ gr 
 
 I 
 
 _:x u -^ \^—^-V^ ^ 
 
 ' The chief reason for this leading tone, in addition to the natural tendency of 
 singers to raise their voices as near as possible to the upper tonic, was so that the 
 dominant chord, the third of which is always the 7th degree, might invariably be 
 a Major Triad. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 
 
 27 
 
 The Ionian mode corresponds exactly with oiir modern major scale, 
 and the common people among all nations early showed a strong 
 predilection for its use. The Church, in fact, because of this popu- 
 larity with the people, named it the "modus lascivus" and prohibited 
 its use in the ecclesiastical liturgy. One of the very earliest Folk- 
 tunes extant — "Summer is iciunen in" (already referred to) — is 
 in the Ionian mode and, according to Cecil Sharp,' there are many 
 English Folk-tunes in this same mode. 
 
 We now cite a few typical folk-songs (taken from national sources) 
 which, in their structure, show a natural instinct for balance of phrase 
 and oftentimes for that organic unity of effect gained by restatement 
 after contrast. 
 
 ■THE TRUE LOVERS' FAREWELL 
 A A 
 
 Old English 
 
 ^^^FrrTg#^i^ rrrlJ^ |r rr r r r 
 
 =^ 
 
 d d 
 
 ^- 
 
 i=^=t3t 
 
 
 *—d-rS7'-d — ^ 
 
 The pattern of this song, in the Aeolian mode, is A, A, A, B. Unity 
 is secured by the three-fold appearance of the first phrase; and a 
 certain balance, by having the second phrase B twice as long (four 
 measures) as A. 
 
 
 THE SHIP, IN DISTRESS 
 A 
 
 Old English 
 
 S3 
 
 ^ 
 
 p- F r r ' ^ 
 
 -Bt-. 
 
 • rj-. 
 
 i 
 
 1^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 C' d. y 
 
 eJ . g- 
 
 \li J J. r^fc^r rT i r rr-^ 
 
 ' For many suggestive comments on the whole subject see his book English 
 Folk-Song. 
 
28 
 
 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ ^ J J ^ 
 
 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 1= 
 
 The formula of this characteristic song in the Dorian mode is A, A, 
 B, A; merely an extension, through repetition, of the simple type A, 
 B, A which, in turn, is the basis of the fundamental structure known 
 as the three-part form. This will later be studied in detail. It is 
 evident to the musical sense how complete a feehng of coherence is 
 gained by the return to A after the intervening contrast of the phrase 
 B; evident, also, that this song is a perfect example of the principle 
 of unity combined with variety. 
 
 We further cite a few examples from Scottish, Irish, French, Hun- 
 garian and Russian sources. They all illustrate quaint melodic inter- 
 vals and an instinct for balance and symmetry. 
 
 WANDERING WILLIE 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 
 
 Here 
 
 wa', 'there 
 
 wa'. Wan - der - in' Wil lie. 
 
 i 
 
 ;^H*= 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 wa' hame. 
 
 Here 
 
 wa', there 
 
 haud 
 
 ^m 
 
 -•-=- 
 
 ^^1=^ 
 
 ± 
 
 & 
 
 Come to my bo som, my ain on 
 
 dear ie, O 
 
 * 
 
 ^ 
 
 tell me thou bring'at me my Wil lie the same. 
 
 This song ^ expresses that note of pathos often found in Scottish 
 
 ' The example quoted, together with others equally beautiful, may be found in 
 the collection edited by the Scottish composer, Hamish MacCunn. See, as well, 
 the Cycle of Old Scotch Melodies arranged for four solo voices with pianoforte 
 accompaniment by Arthur Whiting. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 
 
 29 
 
 folk-music and is noteworthy also because the lyric poet, Robert 
 Burns, wrote for it words of which we give the first stanza. 
 
 WOULD GOD I WERE THE TENDER APPLE BLOSSOM 
 
 j/'"'- m \ i.^^U^^^n 1 - ^ 
 
 (*) 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
 fe^ 
 
 «= 
 
 ^ 
 
 (8) 
 
 ilLJ^cxJ 
 
 ^-^ 
 
 Tt -•- 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 -p— •- 
 
 
 es^ 
 
 i 
 
 (1!) 
 
 E^ 
 
 fi 
 
 SS 
 
 [^ 
 
 P^3 
 
 
 This Irish tune* is certainly one of the most perfect that can be 
 imagined, remarkable alike for its organic unity, gained by the 
 frequent use of the first ascending motive, and for the manner in 
 which the successive crises are reached. Note in particular the 
 intensity of the final climax, in measure 13, attained by a repetition 
 of the preceding phrase. 
 
 EN PASSANT PAR LA LORRAINE AVEC MES SABOTS 
 Animi 8 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 S?E^ 
 
 f -i -\ 
 
 ■^^1=1 
 
 t4= 
 
 ^ 
 
 ?==p: 
 
 * 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 =t 
 
 -=1— =1- 
 
 i ^ 1 1 
 
 ' For Irish folk-songs the best collections are the one by Villlers Stanford and a 
 Oyclt by Arthur Whiting, prepared in the same way as that just cited on Scottish 
 melodies. 
 
30 
 
 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 This charming song^ from Lorraine exemplifies that rhythmic 
 vivacity and lightness of touch so characteristic of the French. 
 
 Observe the piquant effect, in the final phrase, produced by the 
 elision of a measure; there being in the whole song 31 measures 
 instead of the normal 32 (16 + 16). 
 
 i 
 
 *: 
 
 Andante 
 
 Old Hungarian Folk-song 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^=^=1 
 
 pi^ 
 
 -^— ^ 
 
 I 
 
 I-- 
 
 * 
 
 I 
 
 ^^ 
 
 =t^ 
 
 Hungarian folk-music^ is noted for its syncopated rhythm and 
 its peculiar metric groupings. It is also often highly embroidered 
 with chromatic notes; the Hungarian scale, with two augmented 
 intervals, being an intensification of our minor mode, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 w- 
 
 ibsz 
 
 =I^=#F 
 
 Russia is fortunate in her musical inheritance; for not only has 
 she a wealth of folk-songs, but her famous composers, Balakireff, 
 Borodin and Rimsky -Korsakoff — who are men of letters as well — 
 have published remarkable editions of these national melodies. The 
 Russian folk-songs express, in general, a mood of sombreness or even 
 depression — typical of the vast, bleak expanses of that country, and 
 of its down-trodden people. These songs are usually in the minor 
 mode — often with sudden changes of rhythm — and based on the 
 old ecclesiastical modes, the Russian liturgy being very ancient and 
 having an historical connection with that of the Greek church. The 
 folk-music of no nation is more endowed with individuality and depth 
 of emotion. Five characteristic examples are herewith cited: 
 
 ' Taken from an excellent collection of Chansons Populaires edited by Jullen 
 Tiersot. 
 
 2 The best popular collection of Hungarian melodies is that by Francis Korbay, 
 the texts for which were translated and arranged by the American novelist, J. S. 
 of Dale. It is well known what artistic use has been made of Hungarian melo- 
 dies and rhythms by Schubert, Liszt and Brahms. 
 
THE FOLK-SONG 
 
 31 
 
 t Adagio 
 2 .. . 1 1 
 
 ■* P 
 
 i=P=:i=i=E 
 
 :f=t= 
 
 ^^ 
 
 itit 
 
 i 
 
 iiii 
 
 P 
 
 -^ — ^ — ^ 
 
 =1 I C 
 
 =tit 
 
 i 
 
 ■t 
 
 =i«=Fi^ 
 
 P=F-=S^=i^ 
 
 fe 
 
 » ^ p 
 
 *: 
 
 M 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 II 
 
 * 
 
 Adagio 
 
 P m- 
 
 *=P 
 
 f m P 
 
 -•— #- 
 
 I I I 
 
 ^ 
 
 5- J r r" ^gES=E 
 
 p: 
 
 :» 
 
 :p=-ip 
 
 iE# 
 
 ^ 
 
 III 
 
 i 
 
 Adagio 
 
 Harmonized by Eimsky-Korsakoff 
 
 ^a— jg- 
 
 -^— •- 
 
 ES 
 
 - a — F g 
 
 "^ 
 
 jB 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 -I — r^ 
 
 w 
 
 -=i— s 
 
 =?=S= 
 
 P 
 
 f>P 
 
 j r 
 
 i^ 
 
 i^t^ 
 
 *=F 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 W- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 --'^tt 
 
 -• !«— «- 
 
 ES 
 
 J 
 
 fc=t 
 
 l=« 
 
 »' '■ --. 4— 
 
 u 
 
 -ti=^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
32 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ^m 
 
 fTi=r=F^ 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 ;^^^3 
 
 =tj= 
 
 =ti: 
 
 -^^sa-- 
 
 
 r 
 
 ■rr-^r^^r-z 
 
 :•- -s- 
 
 ^s 
 
 ^d:j.=^ 
 
 ::^=iE: 
 
 ^^m 
 
 :p 
 
 tf 
 
 i 
 
 ^fc=f=T: 
 
 S^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 jtzizt 
 
 ;^ 
 
 p! 
 
 =^ 
 
 * ■ I * 
 
 iE 
 
 ^=ri^; 
 
 s 
 
 -rr 
 
 -i-i*- 
 
 §aE 
 
 i 
 
 *» m- 
 
 PTS 
 
 5 — 5=pc 
 
 t=t 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 P 
 
 Ut 
 
 =?c:? 
 
 
 i 
 
 i==i: 
 
 3=^ 
 
 ^3 
 
 P^e 
 
 e 
 
 2 
 
 f^r— r 
 
 -r* 
 
 gs^s 
 
 3!==te 
 
 =«= 
 
 ■p- 
 
 IV 
 
 i 
 
 p 
 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 -0-~-P^ 
 
 s 
 
 * * 
 
 p g a i / 
 
 ^S 
 
 ■•—*- 
 
 F^tt 
 
 I 
 
 S=^= 
 
 -!« =1- 
 
 ?=£^ 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 33 
 
 i 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ISE 
 
 ^^=i^ 
 
 f 1 j i J. x i J n n 
 
 -l-J 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
 This last melody is of particular significance, because Tchaikowsky 
 has used it so prominently in the Finale of his Fourth Symphony. 
 
 The growing interest in folk-music in America is a tendency 
 concerning which the progressive student should inform himself. 
 For a national basis of creative work, our country has always 
 been at a disadvantage in comparison with nations which, as their 
 birthright, have much music in their blood. Moreover, with the ex- 
 ception of the tunes of the aboriginal Indians and the plantation melo- 
 dies of the Negroes, it has been asserted that America could boast no 
 folk-songs. Recent investigations have shown, however, that this 
 is not entirely true. Cecil Sharp, Henry Gilbert, Arthur Farwell and 
 other musical scholars have proved that there are several regions of 
 oiu" country, settled by colonists from England, Ireland and Scotland, 
 where folk-songs exist practically in the condition in which they were 
 first brought over. One of the best collections of such material is the 
 set of so-called Lonesome Tunes from, the Kentucky Mountains, taken 
 down by Miss Lorraine Wyman and Mr. Howard Brockway directly 
 from the mountaineers and other dwellers in that region. These mel- 
 odies have great individuality, directness and no little poetic charm. 
 It is certainly encouraging to feel that, in this industrial age, there are 
 stiU places where people express their emotions and ideals in song; 
 for a nation that has not learned to sing — or has forgotten how— 
 can never create music that endures. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 WE have traced, in the preceding chapter, some of the funda- 
 mental principles of design in musical expression, as they were 
 manifested in the Folk-music of the different nations. All music of 
 this type was homophonic, i. e., a single melodic Une, either entirely 
 unaccompanied or with a slight amount of instrumental support. 
 Hence however perfect in itself, it was necessarily limited in scope 
 
34 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 and in opportunity for organic development. Before music could 
 become an independent art, set free from reliance on poetry, and 
 could attain to a breadth of expression commensurate with the 
 growth in other fields of art, there had to be established some prin- 
 ciple of development, far more extensive than could be found in 
 Folk-music. This principle' of "Thematic Development" — the 
 chief idiom of instrumental music — by which a motive or a theme 
 is expanded into a large symphonic movement, was worked out in 
 that type of music known as the Polyphonic or many -voiced; and 
 Polyphonic music became, in turn, the point of departure for our 
 modern system of harmony, with its methods of key relationship and 
 of modulation. As we have stated in Chapter I, the principle of 
 systematic repetition or imitation —first discovered and partially 
 applied by the musicians^ of the early French School and by the Neth- 
 erland masters — finally culminated in the celebrated vocal works 
 (a capella or unaccompanied) composed by Palestrina and his con- 
 temporaries for the Koman Catholic Liturgy. Up to this point the 
 whole texture of music had been conceived in connection with voices; 
 but with the development of the organ, so admirably suited for 
 polyphonic style, and the perfection of the family of stringed instru- 
 ments, the principles of polyphony were carried over and applied to 
 instrumental treatment. The composer who, through his construc- 
 tive genius, most fully embodied these principles' was John Sebastian 
 Bach (1685-1750). We are now prepared to explain the character- 
 istics of polyphonic music and then to analyze some typical examples 
 from Bach and other polyphonic composers. The essential difference 
 between homophonic and polyphonic style is implied by the terms 
 
 1 The statement might be qualified by saying that, since Beethoven, instru- 
 mental style has become a happy mixture of monophony for the chief melodies 
 and polyphony for the supporting harmonic basis. Stress is laid in the above text 
 on the polyphonic aspect merely to emphasize the matter under discussion. 
 
 * Notable names are Ldonin and P^rotin, both organists of NStre Dame at Paris. 
 
 ' Although this is not the place to set forth all the details of this development, 
 in the interest of historical justice we should not think of Bach without gratefully 
 acknowledging the remarkable work of such pioneers as the Dutchman, Sweelinck 
 (1S62-1621), organist at Amsterdam; the Italian.Frescobaldi (1583-1644), organ- 
 ist at Rome, and — greatest of all, in his stimulating influence upon] Bach — the 
 Dane, Buxtehude (1636-1707), organist at Liibeck. Sweelinck and Frescobaldi 
 may fairly be called the foimders of the genuine Fugfue, and there is a romantic 
 warmth in Buxtehude's best work which makes it thoroughly modem in 
 sentiment. 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 35 
 
 themselves. When there is but one melody, the skill of the composer 
 and the attention of the hstener are concentrated upon this single 
 melodic hne; and even it there be an accompaniment, it is so planned 
 that the chief melody stands out in reUef against it. The preemi- 
 nence of this chief melody is seldom usurped, although the accom- 
 paniment often has interesting features of its own. As soon as we 
 have more than one melody (whether there be two, three or stiU 
 others) all these voice-parts may be of coequal importance, and the 
 musical fabric becomes an interwoven texture of a munber of strands. 
 The genius and skill of the composer is now expended on securing 
 Ufe and interest for each of these voices — • soprano, alto, tenor, 
 bass — which seem to be braided together; and thus a much more 
 comprehensive attention is required of the listener. For instead of 
 the single melody in the soprano, or upper voice, of the Folk-song, 
 we now must Usten consciously to the bass and to both of the inner 
 voices."- Too much emphasis cannot be laid upon the recommenda- 
 tion that, in appreciating music, the first task is to train the ear to a 
 wide range of hstening. These differences in style are often ap- 
 parent just as a pattern of design — to be seen from the following 
 examples: 
 
 Homophonic Style. Irish Folk-Song 
 
 ! ^ I . . 
 
 i 
 
 S5S; 
 
 S: 
 
 =! 
 
 IS 
 
 r 
 
 (y)" 
 
 (t)=(^)t(-^ 
 
 g^@ ^^ g)^ilg)^pS 
 
 ^ 
 
 :^ 
 
 =1 
 
 ^l 
 
 -jj—*- 
 
 -cH 
 
 f 
 
 (f)' 
 
 -(,•)- 
 
 mp 
 
 f 
 
 fJ^itK^ 
 
 ' In connection with the statement that music has developed according to natural 
 law, it is worth noting that the four-part chorus early became the standard for both 
 vocal and instrumental groups for the simple reason that there exist two kinds of 
 women's voices — soprano and alto, and two of men's voices — tenor and bass. 
 Originally, the chief voice in the ecclesiastical chorus was the tenor (teneo), be- 
 cause the tenors sustained the melody. Below them were the basses (bassus, low) ; 
 above the tenors came the altos (altus, high) and still higher the sopranos (sopra, 
 above). 
 
36 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Polyphonic Style. Baoh: Fugue In C Minor 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 S^ 
 
 p etc. 
 
 lC^=ir^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 In the latter example it is evident that there is an interweaving of 
 three distinct melodic lines. 
 
 The polyphonic instrumental works of Bach and his contempo- 
 raries were called by such names as Preludes, Fugues, Canons, Inven- 
 tions, Toccatas and Fantasies; but since a complete account of all 
 these forms would lead too far afield, we shall confine ourselves to a 
 description of the Canon, the Invention and the Fugue. A Canon 
 (from the Greek Kartov, meaning a strict rule or law) is a composi- 
 tion in which there is a literal systematic imitation, carried out to 
 the end, between two or more of the voices (often with subsidiary 
 voices filling in), and may be considered a kind of musical dialogue 
 in which the second, or answering, part reenforces the message pre- 
 viously uttered by the leading voice. This imitation may take place 
 at any degree of separation; and Canons are in existence at the 
 interval of the second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. The most eflFective 
 Canons, however, are those in which the answering voice is an octave 
 away from the leading one. Although the Canon is not a form 
 employed frequently by modern composers for an entire composition. 
 Canonic imitation appears so often in all large works for orchestra, 
 string quartet or ensemble combinations, that the music-lover should 
 acquire a certain ease in listening to a structure of this type. The 
 Canon, moreover, is an integral factor in the style of Cesar Franck, 
 d'Indy and Brahms; and illustrations of its use abound in their 
 works. The organ is particularly well suited to the rendition of 
 Canons; since, by its facilities for tone-color, the two voices may be 
 clearly contrasted. Those interested in organ hteratxu-e should 
 become acquainted with the following excellent examples: The 
 Canon in Bflat major, op. 40, by Giulmant; the 4th movement of the 
 Fifth Organ Symphony by Widor; the Canon in B minor, op. 54, by 
 Schumann; the Canon in F sharp major, op. 30, by Merkel, and the 
 set of Ten Canonic studies, op. 12, by G. W. Chadwick. In other 
 fields of composition the following should be cited: The set of Piano- 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 37 
 
 forte Pieces in Canon form, op. 35, by Jadassohn; a like set by Rhein- 
 berger, op. 180; the Canonic Vocal Trios, op. 156, by Reinecke and the 
 famous Canon from the first act of Beethoven's opera Fidelio. There 
 is also a beautiful bit of Canonic imitation between two of the upper 
 voices in the introduction of Berlioz's Carnaval Bomnin Overture for 
 orchestra. One of the most appealing Canons in modern literature 
 is the setting for soprano and barytone, by Henschel, of the poem 
 Oh that we ttoo were Maying by Charles Kingsley. This example alone 
 would suflBciently corroborate the statement that the firmness of 
 structure inherent in the canonic form is perfectly compatible with 
 genuine freedom and poetry of inspiration. In the first movement 
 of Cesar Frank's Symphony in D minor, at the recapitulation (page 
 39 of the full score) may be foimd a magnificent example of the 
 intensity of effect gained by a canonic imitation of the main theme — 
 in this instance between the lower and upper voices. Possibly the 
 finest example of canonic writiag in all hterature is the Finale of 
 Cesar Franck's Sonata in A major for Violin and Pianoforte in which, 
 for several pages, there is an eloquent dialogue between the two con- 
 trasting instruments. The movement is too long for citation but it 
 should certainly be procured and studied. In the Trio of the Scherzo 
 in Beethoven's Seventh Sonata for Violin and Pianoforte there is a 
 free use of canonic imitation which will repay investigation. Lastly, 
 the Aria with 30 Variations — the so-called Goldberg Variations of 
 Bach — is a perfect storehouse of every conceivable canonic device. 
 
 A few standard examples are to be found in the Supplement. 
 These should be played over and studied until they are thoroughly 
 familiar — not only for the pleasure to be derived, but for the indis- 
 pensable training afforded in polyphonic listening. 
 
 Ex. No. 9 Canon by Thomas Tallys (1510-1585). 
 
 Ex. No. 10 Canonic Variation by Schumann from the Etudes 
 Symphoniques. 
 
 Ex. No. 11 of Bach's Goldberg Variations. 
 
 Ex. No. 12 Canon in B flat minor, op. 38, Grieg. 
 
 Ex. N o. 13 Canon in F sh arp ma]'or ^^g^5i_ J adassoh n. __ . ._ .-— 
 
 One^ the most simple and direct types of polyphonic compo- 
 sition is the form known as the Invention in which, as the term 
 impUes, the composer — through his inventive genius and by means 
 of the polyphonic devices of imitation and transposition — develops 
 to a logical conclusion some short and characteristic motive. We 
 are fortunate in having from Bach himself, that consummate master 
 
38 MUSIC: AN ART AM) A LANGUAGE 
 
 of polyphony, two sets of such Inventions: fifteen for two voices, 
 and fifteen for three. These flights of fancy — in which art so 
 subtly conceals art — though originally composed for the clavi- 
 chord and harpsichord (the precursors of the pianoforte), are very 
 eflPective on our modern instrument and should be in the pos- 
 session of every music-student.^ A brief analysis is now given of 
 the first one in the set for two voices, and Nos. 4, 8 and 10 in this 
 set are particularly recommended for study; also Nos. 2, 6 and 14 
 among those for three voices. The opening motive is. the founda- 
 
 f^iliJjJjn l 
 
 tion of the entire composition and is at once imitated, canonically, 
 in the lower voice. Then the two voices play about, with figures 
 clearly derived from the motive, until we reach, in measures three 
 and four, a systematic downward transposition of the material. 
 Such transpositions or shiftings up or down in pitch are called Se- 
 quences. They are very frequent in all polyphonic composition, 
 give a strong sense of unity to melodic progression and are gen- 
 erally carried out in groups of three, i. e., the original figure and two 
 repetitions. After the sequence the music naturally works toward 
 the most nearly related kfey (the dominant) and in the seventh 
 measure reaches in that key its first objective. These Inventions of 
 Bach, as well as the Dance forms soon to be studied, are almost 
 invariably in what is known as Two-part form, i.e., the music consists 
 of two main divisions, clearly marked off by cadences^; the first of 
 which modulates to the dominant or some related key while the 
 second part, starting in this key, works back to a final close in the 
 home key. In Inventions it early became customary in the second 
 part to begin with the same motive as the first- — but in the opposite 
 voice. Thus we see, in the Invention now being discussed, that the 
 seventh measure begins with the original motive in the bass which, 
 in turn, is imitated by the Soprano — a process just the reverse of 
 that in the opening measures. 
 
 ' The best edition is that by Busoni, published by Breitkopf and Hartel. 
 ' This technical term as well as others will later be more fully explained. 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 39 
 
 etc. 
 
 -y— •- 
 
 S 
 
 5 
 
 ^= 
 
 I 
 
 In pieces in this Two-part form the second portion is generally 
 longer than the first; for the composer, by the time he has reached 
 this second part, may consider the material sufficiently familiar to be 
 expanded and varied by excursions into more remote keys, and by 
 more intricate manipulations of the chief motive. In measure 11 we 
 find a modulation to D minor and then, after some free treatment of 
 the motive, we reach — in measure 15 — a cadence in A minor. A 
 long sequential passage brings us, through a modulation to the sub- 
 dominant key of F major (in measures 18 and 19), to a strong closing 
 cadence in the home key. It should be noticed that in this Invention 
 and in some of the dance forms there is shown a strong leaning 
 towards a tripartite division of the material as is indicated by the 
 three cadences in measures 7, 15 and 22. Since, however, the middle 
 part is lacking in any strong contrast — which is such an essential factor 
 in the fully developed three-part form — it seems better to consider 
 this piece, and others like it, as a tendency rather than as a complete 
 embodiment of tripartite arrangement. It is expected that the music 
 lover will take these Inventions for what they really are and not search 
 in them for those notes of intense subjectivity and dramatic power 
 so prevalent in modern music. They are merely Uttle pieces — a 
 "tour de force" in polyphonic ingenuity; music rejoicing in its own 
 inherent vitality. Accepted in this spirit they are invigorating and 
 charming. 
 
 The form in which polyphonic skill reaches its highest possibilities 
 is the Fugue; and the immortal examples of this form are the Fugues 
 of John Sebastian Bach, found in his Well-tempered Clavichord and in 
 his mighty works for the organ. The fimdamental structure of a 
 fugue is implied in the term itself (from the Latin "fuga" —flight); 
 that is, in a fugue the main theme or subject is always announced in 
 a single voice, and the remaining voices, appearing successively in 
 accordance with definite principles of key-relationship, seem to chase 
 each other about and to flee from pursuit. The several stratified 
 entrances^of the subject are relieved by intermediate passages called 
 "Episodes." An Episode, as shown by the derivation (wt oSos, by 
 
40 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 the way), is something off the beaten path — a digression; and it is 
 in these episodical portions of a fugue rather than in the formalistic 
 portions that the genius of the composer shines forth. This is espec- 
 ially true of Bach, for almost any well-trained musician can invent a 
 subject which will allow of satisfactory fugal treatment according to 
 accepted usage; but no one save Bach has ever invented such free and 
 fanciful episodes — so daring in scope and yet so closely connected 
 with the main thought. The general effect of a fugue is cumulative: 
 a massing and piling up of voices that lead to a carefully designed 
 conclusion which, in some of Bach's organ fugues, is positively over- 
 whelming. A fugue may be called a mighty crescendo, like the sound 
 of many waters. There is a popular conception, or rather misconcep- 
 tion, that a fugue is a labored, dull or even "dry" form of composition, 
 meant only as an exhibition of pedantic skill, and quite beyond the 
 reach of ordinary musical appreciation. Nothing is farther from the 
 truth, as a slight examination of musical literature will show. For 
 we see that the fugal form has been used to express well-nigh every 
 form of human emotion, the sublime, the tragic, the romantic; very 
 often the humorous and the fantastic. When we recall the irresist- 
 ible sparkle and dash of Mozart's Magic Flute Overture, of the Over- 
 ture to the Bartered Bride by Smetana, of the Finale of Mozart's 
 Jupiter Symphony, and of many of the fugues in the Well-tempered 
 Clavichord, it is evident that to call a fugue "dry" is an utter abuse 
 of language. It is true that there are weak, artificial and dull fugues, 
 where the composer — frankly — had nothing to say and merely 
 filled out the form; but the same may be said of every type of com- 
 position, i. e., among them all are examples inspired and — less in- 
 spired. This, however, is no indictment of the fugue per se, against 
 which the only thing to be said is that it requires on the part of the 
 listener an exceeding concentration. Some of the masterpieces of 
 the world being wholly or partially in the fugal form, it is the duty of 
 those listening to polyphonic music to train their powers to the same 
 seriousness of attention expected and freely given in the appreciation 
 of an oration, a drama or a cathedral. These latter manifestations 
 of artistic expression, to be sure, are less abstract than the fugue and 
 more closely related to daily life. Yet no effort is more repaying 
 than the mental and emotional energy expended in listening to the 
 interweavings of a good fugue; for, conscious of missing the periodic 
 divisions of the Folk-song, we have to listen to more than one melody 
 at a time. A fugue being a composition, as the French say, of 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 41 
 
 "longue haleine," our attention, in order to follow its structure, must 
 be on the "qui vive" every moment. The fugue, in fact, is an example 
 of the intricate and yet organic complexity found in all the higher 
 forms of life itself; and whenever a composer has wished to dwell with 
 emphasis on a particular theme, he almost invariably resorts to some 
 form of f ugal treatment, strict or free. The most effective media for 
 rendering fugues are the chorus of mixed voices, the organ (by reason 
 of its pedal key-board always making the subject in the bass stand 
 out majestically) and the stringed orchestra which, with the "bite" 
 of the strings, brings out — with peculiar sharpness — the different 
 entrances of the subject. The student should become familiar with 
 standard examples in each of these classes and should, above all, seek 
 opportunity to hear some of the organ fugues of Bach performed on 
 a really fine instriiment. A few weU-known fugues are herewith cited 
 in order to stimulate the student to some investigation of his own. 
 In all the Oratorios of Handel and in the choral works of Bach, such 
 as the B minor Mass, may be found magnificent fugues — as free and 
 vital in their' rhythmic swing as the ocean itself. Particular atten- 
 tion should be called to the fugue in the Messiah "And with His stripes 
 we are healed." One of the most impressive fugues in modern litera- 
 ture is the a capeUa chorus Urbs Syon Unica from H. W. Parker's 
 Hora Novissima. From among the organ works of Bach everyone 
 should know the Fugues in G minor, in A minor, in D major^ and the 
 Toccata and Fugue in D minor. These have aU been transcribed for 
 the pianoforte by Liszt and so are readily available; they are often 
 played at pianoforte recitals by Paderewski and other virtuosi. In 
 hearing one of these masterpieces no one can remain unmoved or can 
 f ail to reverence the constructive genius which fashioned such cathe- 
 drals in tone. For orchestra we have the Prelude to Puccini's opera 
 Madama Butterfly, and the beginning of the Prelude to the third 
 act of Wagner's Master singers. There are striking fugal passages 
 in Beethoven's Symphonies, e.g., the first movement of the Heroic 
 Symphony and the rollicking Trio of the Scherzo in the Fifth Symphony. 
 In more modern Hterature there is the fugal Finale to Arthur Foote's 
 Suite for Orchestra and in Chadwick's Vagrom Ballad a humorous 
 quotation of the theme from Bach's G minor Fugue for organ. One 
 of the most superb fugues in free style is the last movement of Cfesar 
 Franck's Prelude, Choral and Fugue in B minor for Pianoforte. This 
 
 1 Whenever Percy Grainger performs this fugue in his own arrangement for 
 pianoforte, he always electrifies an audience. 
 
42 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 movement alone ■would refute all charges of dullness or dryness 
 brought against the fugue by the unthinking or the unenlightened. 
 A good fugue, in fact, is so full of vitality and demands such active 
 comprehension^ on the part of the hstener that it is not difficult to 
 imagine where the dullness and dryness are generally found. 
 
 At this point by an analysis of a fugue from the Well-tempered 
 Clavichord, let us explain some of the technical features in fugal 
 structure. We shall then be in a position to understand the more 
 subtle devices of fugal treatment and to appreciate more enthusias- 
 tically some additional comments upon Bach's style in general. 
 
 Fugue in E flat Major, No. VII, in the First Book. 
 This fugue in three voices begins with a graceful subject, an- 
 nounced in the upper voice. In the third measure this is answered by 
 an imitation of the subject in the alto; while the opening voice contin- 
 ues with a contrasting part called the counter-subject.^ As the whole 
 
 Subject 
 
 M 
 
 i2E 
 
 « 
 
 J MT'r f ■<iiij\ u 
 
 B» 
 
 It* 
 
 Bi-fcfL 
 
 m 
 
 Counter-subject 
 
 subsequent fabric is organically derived from these two motives, both 
 subject and counter-subject should be played frequently and so com- 
 mitted to memory. Observe also the contrasts in rhythm and melo- 
 
 ' It is worthy of observation that, for those who will listen to them intelligently, 
 fugues do not merely demand such a state of mind but actually generate it. 
 
 ^ It is left to the teacher to explain to the student the key-relationship of 
 Subject and Answer, and the difference between fugues, tonal and real; for as 
 these points have rather more to do with composition they play but a slight part 
 in listening to a fugue. 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 43 
 
 die outline between the subject and counter-subject. In measures 
 4 and 5 we have a short sequential passage leading, in measure 6, to 
 the third entry, of the subject in the bass. Then after another sequen- 
 tial passage, which includes an emphatic assertion of the subject in 
 the soprano (measures 11 and 12), we enter upon a long episode which 
 leads, at measure 17, to our first objective point of rest — a cadence in 
 C minor. With the entry, in this measure, of the subject in the alto 
 we have an interesting example of what is termed "shifted rhythm;" 
 the subject beginning on the third beat instead of the first, as at the 
 outset. In the middle portion of the fugue we have two appearances 
 of the subject in the related keys of C minor (measures 17 and 18) and 
 G minor (measures 20 and 21). Then, following two very vigorous 
 sequences, a modulatory return is made to the subject in the home 
 key, and with its normal rhythm at measure 26. A repetition, in 
 more briUiant form, of one of the previous episodes, in measures 31 
 and 32, gives a strong impression of unity; leading in measures 34 and 
 35 to a last appearance of the subject, with a beautiful change in one 
 of the intervals (E flat-G flat). The closing measures establish the 
 main tonality of E flat major, rendered still more expressive by the 
 counterpoint associated with the last chord. As to the general struc- 
 ture of this fuguCjit is evidently tripartite, the first part A presenting 
 the material, the second part B affording variety by modulating into 
 different keys, and the third part A' reasserting the material of A and 
 bringing the composition to a logical close in the home key. (See Sup- 
 plement Ex. No. 15.) 
 
 We should now acquaint ourselves with the more subtle devices of 
 fugal treatment; although but one of these is employed in the fugue 
 just studied, which is comparatively simple in structure. I. Inver- 
 sion; the melodic outhne is tiu-ned upside down while identity is re- 
 tained by means of the rhythm, e. g. 
 
 Theme 
 
 Bach: 3rd English Suite 
 
44 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 An excellent example from an orchestral work is the theme of 
 the third movement of Brahms's C minor Symphony, the second 
 phrase of which is an Inversion of the opening measures, e. g. 
 
 Allegretto grazioso 
 
 IILA I U-L j i r r+l I -J — u 
 
 * d * 
 
 Inversion 
 
 
 #— »= 
 
 I 
 
 W 
 
 II. Augmentation and Diminution; the length of the notes is 
 doubled or halved while their metrical relativity is maintained, e. g. 
 
 t 
 
 Themei 
 
 BACH: Fugue No. 8, Book I 
 
 lizr: 
 
 ^ 
 
 -t^ 
 
 SS 
 
 ^m 
 
 l^ 
 
 t 
 
 Augmentation 
 
 !E 
 
 W 
 
 W 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^f—i-J - 
 
 r«=^^^ 
 
 Theme Bach: Fugue No. IX, Book II 
 
 §^ 
 
 -g g - 
 
 f2 — »- 
 
 Diminution 
 
 ^ JiJJi^ 
 
 Augmentation is very frequent in modern literature when a com- 
 poser, by lengthening out the phraseology of a theme, wishes to gain 
 for it additional emphasis. Excellent examples are the closing 
 measures of Schumann's Arabesque, in which the reminiscence of 
 the original motto is most haunting, e. g., 
 
 Motto 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 
 Motto aagmented ' 
 
 45 
 
 M 
 
 =?^ 
 
 5a 
 
 i 
 
 r 
 
 1j • yJ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■P^ 
 
 m 
 
 :/> J • . 'g- 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 the Finale of Liszt's Faust Symphony, where the love theme of the 
 Gretchen movement is carried over and intoned by a solo bari- 
 tone with impressive effect, e. g. 
 
 Andante soave 
 
 i 
 
 fe^ 
 
 -T^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 M 
 
 =F=S= 
 
 rs: 
 
 VF^ 
 
 -• d 
 
 dolce semplice 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 -i» b 0- 
 
 I 
 
 w 
 
 W 
 
 -^ — •- 
 
 i^^'j^^u^n^m 
 
 ^ 
 
 In aagmentation 
 
 Bos 
 
46 
 
 MUSIC: AN AET AJSTD A LANGUAGE 
 
 wig 
 
 in. Shifted Rhythm; the position of the subject in the measure 
 is so changed that the accents fall on diflferent beats, e. g. 
 
 Subject 
 
 :t^ 
 
 BACH: Fugue No. V, Book II 
 
 I 
 
 hb 
 
 -+- 
 
 mim 
 
 Shifted 
 
 m 
 
 ?=i= 
 
 ^M 
 
 W 
 
 IV. Stretto; (from^the Italian verb "stringere," to draw close) that 
 portion of a fugue, often the climax, where the entrances are crowded 
 together, i. e., the imitating voice enters before the leading voice has 
 finished, e. g. 
 
 Mtga giocona, J. K. Painb, op. 41 
 
 i 
 
 ■-; — -. — d * ' * *- -M W m f \ 
 
 w^ 
 
 pp 
 
 i^^g^ 
 
 ^^^S 
 
 ^SE* 
 
 Ttz: 
 
 Subject 
 
 The effect is obviously one of great concentration and dramatic inten- 
 sity — with a sense of impending cUmax — and its use is by no means 
 limited to fugal composition; being frequently found in all large sym- 
 phonic works of the classic and modern school. For a magnificent 
 example of the climactic effect produced by a Stretto, witness the last 
 part of Bach's Fugue in G major (see Supplement, Ex. No. 16). 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 47 
 
 Although there is considerable complexity in any complete fugue, 
 and although it requires great concentration on the part of the hs- 
 tener, we should avoid thinking of the form as mechanical in any 
 derogatory sense, but rather as a means to a definite artistic end. 
 Certainly no greater mistake can be made than that of considering 
 Baxih, the surpreme master of polyphonic writing, as too austere, too 
 involved, for the delight and edification of every-day mortals. Bach 
 means brook, and the name^ is most appropriate; for Bach is a 
 never ceasing stream of musical life, the fountain-head from which 
 spring the leading tendencies of modern music. In these days when 
 stress is laid on the romantic element in music, on warm emo- 
 tional appeal, it is weU to consider the quahty so prevalent in Bach 
 of spiritual vitaUty. Exactly because the romantic element repre- 
 sents the human side of music, it is subject to the whims of fashion 
 and is Kable to change and decay. Bach carries us into the realm 
 of universal ideas, inexhaustible and changeless in their power to 
 exalt. Schvunann says that "Music owes to Bach what a religion 
 owes to its founder"; and it is true that a knowledge of Bach is the 
 beginning of musical wisdom. By some. Bach is considered dry 
 or too reserved for companionship with ordinary human beings. 
 Others carelessly assert that he has no melody. Nothing can be 
 further from the truth than these two misconceptions. Bach surely 
 is' not dry, because his work abounds in such vitahty of rhythm. As 
 Parry says, in his biography, "No composer ever attained to any- 
 thing approaching the spontaneity, freshness, and winsomeness of 
 his dances, such as the gavottes, bourrees, passepieds and gigues in 
 the suites; while many of his great choruses and instrumental fugues 
 are inspired with a force of rhythmic movement which thrills the 
 hearer with a feeUng of being swept into space out of the range of 
 common things." The charge of a lack of melody is the same which 
 used to be brought against Wagner. Instead of there being no 
 melody, it is all melody, so that the partially musical, who lack the 
 power of sustained attention, are drowned in the fiood of melodic 
 outpouring. A strong claim, in fact, may be made for Bach as a 
 popular composer in the best sense of the term. Many of his colossal 
 works, to be sure, are heard but seldom, for they require the most 
 highly trained executive ability. But if the average music-lover 
 will become familiar with the French and Enghsh Suites, with the 
 
 1 Beethoven, commenting on the name, majestically said: " He is no brook; 
 he is the open sea ! " 
 
48 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Preludes and Fugues of tlie Well-tempered Clavichord, with some 
 of the Violin Sonatas, he will find for his imagination and mental 
 machinery a food which, once enjoyed, becomes indispensable. For 
 his music has that greatest of qualities in art as in human relation- 
 ships — it wears well and lasts. We all know that books which 
 reveal everything at a first reading are soon thrown aside, and that 
 people whose depth of character and sweetness of disposition we 
 discern but slowly, often become our life-long friends. Music which 
 is too easily heard is identical with that which is immediately for- 
 gotten. The first impulse created by any great work of art is our 
 longing to know it better. Its next attribute is its power to arouse 
 and hold our steady affection. These observations may be applied 
 Hterally to Bach's music, which can be heard for a lifetime, never 
 losing its appeal but continually unfolding new beauties. Further- 
 more, in Bach, we feel the force of a great character even more than 
 the artistic skill with which the personahty is revealed. In this 
 respect Bach in music is quite on a par with Shakespeare in Uterature 
 and Michael Angelo in plastic art. With many musicians, there is 
 so disconcerting and inexpUcable a discrepancy between their deeds 
 as men and the artistic thoughts for which they seem to be the 
 unconscious media, that it is inspiring to come into touch with one 
 who rings true as a man whatever demands are made upon him; 
 whose music is free from morbidity or carnal blemish, as pure as the 
 winter wind, as elemental as the ocean, as uplifting as the stars. 
 In Bach let us always remember the noble human traits; for the 
 universal regard in which his work is held could never have come 
 merely from profound skill in workmanship, but is due chiefly to the 
 manly sincerity and emotional depth which are found therein. The 
 revival of his works, for which the world owes to Mendelssohn such a 
 debt, has been the single strongest factor in the development of music 
 during the 19th century; and their influence^ is by no means yet at an 
 end, as may be seen from the glowing tributes paid to him by such 
 modern composers as Franck, d'Indy and Debussy.^ 
 
 Two additional fugues are now given in the Supplement (see 
 Nos. 17 and 18) for the consideration of the student: the Cat-Fugue of 
 Domenico Scarlatti, with its fantastic subject (said to have been 
 
 ' For a very suggestive article on this point by Philip Greeley Clapp see the 
 Musical Quarterly for April, 1916. 
 
 ' Some eloquent comments on Bach's style and significance may be found in 
 Chapter III of The Appreciation of Music by Surette and Mason. 
 
POLYPHONIC MUSIC; SEBASTIAN BACH 49 
 
 suggested by the walking of a favorite cat on the key-board) and the 
 Fuga Giocosa of John Knowles Paine, (the subject of which is the 
 well-known street-tune "Rafferty's lost his pig")- This latter exam- 
 ple is not only a brilliant piece of fugal writing but a typical mani- 
 festation of American humor. 
 
 Several eulogies of the fugue axe to be found in literature; three of 
 the most famous are herewith appended. 
 
 "Hist, but a word, fair and soft! 
 Forth and be judged. Master Hugues ! 
 Answer the question I've put you so oft: 
 What do you mean by your mountainous fugues? 
 See, we're alone in the loft." 
 
 — Browning, Master Hugues of Saxe-Gotha. 
 
 Throughout, a most fantastic description of fugal style. 
 
 "Whence the sound 
 Of instruments, that made melodious chime. 
 Was heard, of harp and organ; and who mov'd 
 Their stops and chords was seen; his volant touch 
 Instinct through aU proportions, low and high. 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue." 
 
 — Milton, Paradise Lost, Book XI. 
 
 "Then rose the agitation, spreading through the infinite cathe- 
 dral to its agony; then was completed the passion of the mighty 
 fugue. The golden tubes of the organ which as yet had but sobbed 
 and muttered at intervals — gleaming amongst clouds and surges of 
 incense — threw up, as from fountains unfathomable, columns of 
 heart-shattering music. Choir and antichoir were filling fast with 
 unknown voices. Thou also. Dying Trumpeter! with thy love which 
 was victorious, and thy anguish that was finishing, didst enter the 
 tumult; trumpet and echo —farewell love and farewell anguish — 
 rang through the dreadful Sanctus." 
 ^From De Quincey's Dream Fugue in the "Vision of Sudden Death." 
 
 Truly a marvellous picture of the effect of a fugue in a great 
 medieval cathedral! 
 
60 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE aroSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 TJEFORE passing on to an explanation of the fundamental types 
 -'-' of musical structure, we must give some idea of the constit- 
 uent parts of the Period in music. Every art has its units of expres- 
 sion: the straight line, the curve, the arch, the poetic stanza and the 
 prose sentence. Just as poetry and prose are a series of stanzas or 
 sentences, so a musical composition is a succession of definitely or- 
 ganized portions of thought and emotion, in terms of rhythm and 
 sound. In the heart of a composition, to be sure, we often find a 
 great freedom in the phraseology, comparable to blank verse or to a 
 rhapsodic kind of prose; but with few exceptions, such as a Fantasie, 
 every composition always begins with one or two periods which, in 
 regard to subdivision, balance and directness of statement, are care- 
 fully planned and are complete in themselves. Before it is possible 
 to follow intelligently the structure of a musical sentence we must 
 gain a clear idea of what is meant by the frequently used terms Tonal- 
 ity and Modulation. Since the evolution and acceptance of our three 
 modern scales:^ the major, the minor and the chromatic — which 
 gained their sanction chiefly through the investigations and composi- 
 tions of Bach and Rameau — every melody and the accompanying 
 harmony are said to be in a certain "tonality" (or "key") which takes 
 its name from the first tone of the scale in question, e. g., C, E flat, F 
 sharp, etc. Hence this first tone is called the Tonic or chief tone and 
 from it ascend the other tones of the scale. That is, a melody in E flat 
 major will employ only those tones found in the scale of E flat major, 
 and is said to be in that "key," or "tonality." The same would be 
 true of the harmony involved, i. e., the chords would consist of combi- 
 nations of the different tones of this scale. When a melody, as is 
 often the case, employs tones not found in the scale in question, these 
 
 ' It Is assumed that the music-lover has, as his birthright, an instinctive knowl- 
 edge of the grouping of tones and semitones in our modern scales. Those who 
 may wish to refresh their knowledge are recommended to the second Chapter in 
 Foote and Spalding's Harmon]/, and to the chapter on Scales in Parry's Evolution 
 of the Art of Music. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 61 
 
 are called chromatic^ changes, and may or may not efifect a "modular 
 tion" or departure into another key, e. g. 
 
 m 
 
 The most important means of gaining unity and coherence in a com- 
 position is to have it written in a clearly defined tonaUty, especially 
 at the outset. This definite tonahty is the "centre of gravity," so to 
 speak, about which the whole composition revolves. If this tonal 
 centre were uncertain or wandering, we should have a feehng of vague- 
 ness and perplexity which, except for special dramatic effect, is never 
 found in works of the great composers. Thus we speak of aSymphony 
 in C minor, of a Quartet in F major and of a Sonata in B flat minor;* 
 this foundation key being comparable to the basic color-scheme of a 
 painting. There is also a particular aesthetic effect and color-appeal 
 associated with each key; and the hstener should train himself to be 
 sensitive to the brilliance of such keys as D major and E major, the rich- 
 ness of B major, the dignity of E flat major, the almostcloying sweet- 
 nessofDflatmajorandofG flat major and the tragic depth of B minor 
 and G minor. No piece, however, should remainf or longin the same key ; 
 for music cuts so deeply into the consciousness that there would result 
 an intolerable monotony.^ Even ill the simplest folk-songs, there- 
 fore, we often find manifested an instinct for those changes of tonal 
 centre which are technically called "Modulations." All the keys 
 founded on the twelve semitones of the chromatic scale are related — 
 though in varying degrees of closeness; and in modern music, no 
 matter how complex the modulations often sound, we may be sure 
 that the composer plans them as carefully as the painter adjusts his 
 color-scheme. For definite acoustical* and harmonic reasons, 
 
 1 Color in music is brought about chiefly through their use. 
 
 ^ As for example the famous one of Chopin. 
 
 ' Even great composers have at times made this mistake, e. g., Mendelssohn 
 in the first movement of the Scotch Symphony, where the interminable length of 
 the portion in A minor (of all keys!) is simply deadening in its effect. Com- 
 pare also the Prelude to the Rheingold ; where, however — for dramatic purposes 
 — to depict the world as " without form and void " Wagner remains in the key of 
 E flat major for some ISO measures ! 
 
 ■• It is left to the teacher to explain, by the ratios found in the overtones of the 
 Harmonic Series, the validity of this statement. 
 
62 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 however, the keys most closely related to a given tonal centre are those 
 situated a perfect fifth above — the Dominant; a perfect fifth below 
 — the Subdominant; and the Relative Minor, the key-note of which 
 is a minor third below, e. g,, A minor in relation to C major, C minor 
 to E flat major. The relative minors of the Dominant and Subdom- 
 inant also bear a close relationship to a given tonic; and into these 
 five keys is made a large majority of the modulations in any piece of 
 
 music* 
 
 Sub-dominant Tonic Dominant 
 
 i 
 
 I ) J ,. ^- '^ 
 
 i 
 
 Relative Relative Relative 
 
 Minor Minor Minor 
 
 Beginning with Beethoven, a modulation into what are known as 
 the mediant keys became frequent; and is, in fact, a favorite change 
 in all modern music — the mediant keys being those situated half-way 
 between a Tonic and Dominant or a Tonic and Subdominant, e. g. 
 
 Mediant 
 
 i 
 
 -a .^. 
 
 ^ i- r'r~ B 
 
 Sub-mediant 
 
 Anyone at all familiar with Beethoven's style will remember how 
 often his second theme, instead of following the more conventional 
 line of dominant relationship, is in a mediant key. Good examples 
 may be found in the first movement of the Waldstein Sonata and 
 in the first and last movements of the 8th Symphony. A Uttle 
 thought will make clear that the relationships just set forth include 
 nearly all the possible ones save those of 2nds and 7ths. Even into 
 these apparently distant keys, e. g., to D flat major or toB majorfrom 
 C major, modulations may easily be made by means of the "enhar- 
 monic"^ relationship found in that frequently used modern chord — 
 the Augmented Sixth, e. g. 
 
 ^ Some modem theorists, e. g., Calvocoressi (aee the New Music Review for 
 September, 1909) have thought that the dominant relationship was "overworked." 
 It is true that the great charm of modern music is its freedom and boldness in 
 modulation; but the dominant keys can never be entirely abandoned, for the 
 relationship between them and a tonic is as elemental as that between the colors 
 of the spectroscope. 
 
 * Two tones are said to be " enharmonic " when, although written differently 
 they sound the same on an instrument of fixed temperament like the pianoforte 
 or organ, «. ^., D sharp and E flat, E and F flat. A violin, however, can make a 
 distinction between such notes and often does. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 53 
 
 C major 
 
 B major C major 
 
 D flat major 
 
 Next to rhythm, modulation is the most stimulating and enchant- 
 ing element in music. No composition of any scope can be considered 
 truly great unless it abounds in beautiful modulations. Certain 
 composers, to be sure, have in this respect more genius than others 
 — notably Schubert, Chopin, Wagner and Franck whose music seems 
 to waft us along on a magic carpet of delight. But just as Unity 
 depends upon a definite basic tonality, so Variety is gained by this 
 very freedom of modulation. Without it is monotony ; with too much 
 modulation, an irritating restlessness. By the perfect balance in his 
 works of these two related elements a genius may be definitely rec- 
 ognized. 
 
 The simplest and on the whole most frequent type of musical 
 sentence or period consists of eight measures, subdivided into two 
 balancing phrases of four measures ^ each — the component parts 
 plainly indicated by various cadences and endings soon to be ex- 
 plained. These four-measure phrases are often, though not invariably, 
 still further subdivided into two sections of two measures each. Let 
 us now corroborate these statements by an examination of the opening 
 sentence of the Scherzo of Beethoven's Second Sonata for Pianoforte. 
 This concise sentence is an epitome of the chief principles of organic 
 musical expression. At the outset^ we see the leading motive, which 
 consists of an ascending broken chord twice repeated. We see also 
 
 fe^ 
 
 
 M 
 
 > This assertion holds for most of our Western European music; though in 
 Hungarian and Scotch music we find a natural fondness for phrases of three 
 measures, and the Croatians are known for their phrases of five measures so often 
 used by both Haydn and Schubert. But it is true that we tend to think in groups 
 which are some multiple of 2, ». «., either 4, 8, 12 or 16 measures. 
 
 * Always count the first complete measure as one. 
 
54 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 the first phrase of 4 measures and the second phrase^ of similar 
 length, alike subdivided into two sections of 2 measures each. In 
 the third measure we find a modulation into the dominant key (indi- 
 cated by the D sharp) and in the fourth measure a cadence with a 
 feminine ending in this key. The second — or after — phrase 
 corresponds exactly to what has gone before : we have the same repeti- 
 tion of the motive in a different part of the scale; and finally, in the 
 8th measure, a cadence in the home key, also with feminine ending. 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 -•- 
 
 When the sentence is played, it is evident how unsatisfactory would 
 be the effect if a complete stop were attempted at the 4th measure; 
 and how symmetrical and convincing is the impression when the 
 eight measures are considered an unbroken sweep of musical thought.^ 
 There are, in fact, a few complete compositions in musical literature 
 which contain but a single sentence of eight measures. As an example 
 may be cited the song from Schumann's Lieder Album jut Jugend, 
 op. 79, No. 1. (See Supplement No. 19.) For purposes of practical 
 
 ' The two phrases are often designated Thesis and Antithesis. 
 
 * In listening to a clock it is impossible to think of the ticks singly, or other- 
 wise than in groups of two : an accented beat and an unaccented ; although the 
 beats are of equal strength and duration. This principle of dual balance is derived 
 from the rliythmic pulsation of the human heart and, as we shaU see, runs through 
 all music. 
 
THE MTJSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 55 
 
 appreciation* it is enough to state that a cadence is an accepted 
 combination of chords (generally the tonic, dominant and subdomi- 
 nant) which indicates that some objective, either temporary or final, 
 has been reached. Wten the dominant chord or any dominant 
 harmony is immediately followed by the tonic the cadence is called 
 perfect or final, and may be compared to a period in punctuation, 
 c. g. 
 
 i 
 
 if a 
 
 m 
 
 « 
 
 Cesab Fbaxck 
 
 
 
 V J- — V I 
 
 A reversal of this order produces what is called the half -cadence, akin 
 to the semicolon, e. g. 
 
 \ 
 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 i> 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 ) ■ ^ 
 
 
 yj '^ <V 
 
 n- " 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 r "^ 
 
 
 
 1 — IS 1 
 
 The union of the subdominant and tonic chords is known as the Plagal 
 Cadence, e. g.. 
 
 i 
 
 and always gives a feeling of religious dignity and impressiveness. 
 Magnificent examples may be found in the closing measures of 
 Wagner's Overtxire to the Mastersingers and of Brahms' First Sym- 
 phony in C minor. In the final cadence of Debussy's humorous piece 
 for pianoforte, Minstrels, the effect is burlesqued, e. g. 
 
 1 Whenever this book is used in class, the teacher can easily explain, on the 
 pianoforte and by charts, the different cadential effects. For those who have 
 sufBcient harmonic insight Chapter XIV in Foote and Spalding's Modem Harmony 
 is worth consulting. 
 
56 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 see et retenu. 
 
 When dominant harmony is followed by some unexpected chord we 
 have the so-called Deceptive Cadence, which is not unlike the mark 
 of interrogation (?) or even exclamation (!) e. g. 
 
 Waonbb: Overture to the Masterslngera 
 espr. 
 
 <L44-t i^^j^ 
 
 i" 
 
 r 
 
 V Vl'' 
 
 Tchaikowsky: Bth Symphony 
 
 This last cadence gives an effect of dramatic surprise — certainly 
 an exclamation of great force. One of the glories of modern music is 
 the daring novelty of cadential effect which has been achieved by 
 such composers as Franck, Debussy and Ravel; the student should 
 try to become more and more familiar with such harmonic combina- 
 tions. A beautiful example ' is cited from Cesar Franck's Sonata for 
 Violin and Pianoforte. 
 
 ' See also the strikingly original cadences in Debussy's L'lalejoyeuse. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 57 
 
 i 
 
 tf 
 
 MoUo lento 
 Violin 
 
 feEE 
 
 ^— ^ 
 
 m 
 
 Non troppo dolce 
 
 s- 
 
 PlANO 
 
 I 
 
 JTIANO 1 
 
 3 
 
 ^te=f 
 
 f=^ 
 
 irsi,- 
 
 -P^ 
 
 The two endings for phrases are classified as Masculine and Fem- 
 inine and they correspond exactly to the same effects in the metre 
 of a poetic stanza. When the second chord of the cadence, whatever 
 it may be, coincides with a strong beat, i. e., the first beat of the 
 measure, the ending is Masculine, e. g. 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 I 
 
 . ■^ , >* 
 
 m 
 
 ff 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 g* 
 
 a X 
 
 When the chord is carried over to a weak beat of the measure the end- 
 ing is Feminine, e. g. 
 
68 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ^g 
 
 ^m 
 
 ^n 
 
 f •- 
 
 p 
 
 jgg=3- f=H 
 
 .j^ 
 
 I 
 
 i^s 
 
 S2z5=t 
 
 ^r= 
 
 We now give two more examples of the eight measure Sentence 
 which clearly exemplify the principles just stated, e. g. 
 
 Allegro assai 
 
 Beethoven: 3rd Sonata 
 
 -•- * -0- -€- -i- 
 
 ^t^ 
 
 5^ 5: ^ 
 
 ^m^ 
 
 - 1 y N 
 
 P 
 
 i 
 
 :fc 
 
 Izfii 
 
 ^i 
 
 -=i-S — ■r 
 
 ■« =1-^ 
 
 ESI 
 
 -^^H^ 
 
 3^ 
 
 «— »»- 
 
 ^ t- 
 
 -f- -•- 
 
 -• g u =g 
 
 si 
 
 ± 
 
 ..£l^ 
 
 
 etc. 
 
 i 
 
 -Jv— ^ 
 
 =J=^= 
 
 -=^-J?- 
 
 -^1— j^ 
 
 i5« 
 
 ^ 
 
 In this vigorous and clear-cut sentence we find in the 4th measure an 
 eflPect of surprise and suspense; for the chord on the first beat is an in- 
 verted position of the dominant chord in the dominant key. Both 
 the endings are masculine, i. e., the chords which end the phrases coin- 
 cide with the strong beats. 
 
 Beethoven: 1st Sonata 
 
 ^^ 
 
 # 
 
 ^=# 
 
 *=t 
 
 If 
 
 zattt 
 
 .la^ii 
 
 :t^SXJ: 
 
 
 =5— s- 
 
 ^mm 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 59 
 
 i 
 
 w. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^^^^ 
 
 ^~i—i=^ 
 
 — f) 
 
 ^Tjrj 
 
 is 
 
 This graceful sentence is noteworthy for the clear division of the 
 first phrase into two contrasting sections; whereas, in the second 
 phrase, a climactic effect is gained by having no marked subdivision. 
 In the fourth measure occurs a good example of a half-cadence. 
 AH the endings are feminine, i. e., the cadential chord occurs on a 
 weak beat of the measure.' 
 
 Music, however, would be very rigid and would seem measured 
 off with a yard-stick if the sentences .were equally of eight measures. 
 The "sing-song" effect of much so-called popular music is due to the 
 stereotyped metrical pattern. You can always tell just where and 
 how you are coming out. In order to gain a free and elastic phrase- 
 ology, composers early began to combine three four-measure phrases 
 into a twelve measure sentence. It is obvious that with three phrases 
 there can be more subtle effects of contrast and balance than with 
 two, as the following chart makes plain: 
 
 ' Another interesting eight-measure sentence may be found at the beginning of 
 the slow movement of Beethoven's Eighth Sonata, in which every section differs 
 from any one of the others ; in the opening sentence of the first movement of the 
 Tenth Sonata — noticeable for the indefiniteness of the cadences until the final 
 close is reached in measure 8, and in the first sentence of the Allegretto of the 
 Sixth Sonata which is one long sweep, with only the faintest indications of 
 subdivision. 
 
60 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 A Contrast "D f^ 
 
 JD Contrast ^-^ 
 
 /4 measA /4 meas-\ /4 meas-N 
 \ ures / \ ures ' \ ures / 
 
 ures 
 balance 
 
 Beethoven : 6th Sonata 
 
 Wi 
 
 Allegro 
 
 S 
 
 '4=iF 
 
 (4) 
 
 i 
 
 i!^ 
 
 ^eai 
 
 s — =^ 
 
 ^— ^# 
 
 T^j: 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 (8) 
 
 E^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^3 
 
 H«— -f 
 
 p 
 
 fa= > ^ ^ :=^ 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 ■t=zM=-* 
 
 * r • 
 
 =i#«=tjf 
 
 :S r 
 
 ^l^iT^ir^^. _^.. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 W- 
 
 In this sentence it is evident that we cannot stop at the 8th measure 
 and that our first definite conclusion is in measure 12. Let the 
 student observe the varied melodic outline in the three phrases, and 
 question himself as to the types of cadence and ending. 
 
 MiNUETTO OF Beethoven's Fihst Sonata.* 
 
 In this beautifully constructed twelve-measure sentence we have 
 the main motive of the entire movement set forth in measures 1 and 
 
 ' Lack of space will prevent hereafter the citation in actual notes of the ex- 
 amples from Beethoven. His works are readily accessible, and it may even bo 
 assumed that every music-lover owns the Pianoforte Sonatas. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 61 
 
 2; then a contrasting secondary motive in measures 3 and 4. The 
 second four-measure phrase, i. e., measures 5, 6, 7 and 8, repeats the 
 material exactly, but with a modulation into the relative major. 
 In measures 9 and 10 we find the secondary motive appearing in the 
 alto voice (which should be brought out in performance), and in 
 measures 11 and 12 a free ending in the relative major. The closing 
 measures, 13 and 14, give an echo-like effect, which will be explained 
 when we come to extended sentences. Such a sentence is not to be 
 considered as one of 14 measures, although the literal counting gives 
 that number; for the first complete cadence occurs in the 12th measure 
 at the end of Jie third four-measure phrase; the remaining measures 
 being supplementary.' 
 
 The last type of simple, normal sentence is that of 16 measures, 
 divided into 4 phrases of 4 measures each. A clear distinction must 
 be drawn between two successive sentences of 8 measures and the 
 long sweep of a genuine 16 measure sentence. In the latter case 
 there is no complete and satisfactory stop until we reach the cadence 
 in the 16th measure. 
 
 FiBST Sentence of the First Movement of the 
 Twelfth Sonata. 
 
 No difficulty will be found in following the cadences and endings 
 of this sentence, the long-drawn out Hues of which give an impres- 
 sion of repose and tranquillity. Two more excellent examples 
 of 16 measure sentences may be found in the Adagio of the Fifth 
 Sonata, and in the Scherzo of the Third; the latter movement is 
 rranarkable for the polyphonic treatment of the opening motive. 
 
 Although the three types of sentence just studied, i. e., of 8, 12 
 and 16 measures are the normal ones, and would include a majority 
 of all sentences — especially in smaller works — in large compo- 
 sitions there would be an unendurable monotony and rigidity were 
 there invariably to be cadential pauses at every 4th measure. We 
 all know the deadening effect of poetry which has too great uni- 
 formity of metric pattern; and verses of "The boy stood on the 
 burning-deck" type are considered thoroughly "sing-song." It is 
 obvious that elasticity may be gained, without disturbing the normal 
 balance, by expanding a sentence through the addition of extra 
 
 1 Another excellent example of a 12 measure sentence with an extended 
 cadence may be found at the beginning of the first movement of the Third 
 Beethoven Sonata. 
 
62 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 measures, or contracting it by the logical omission of certain meas- 
 ures or by the overlapping of phrases. 
 
 , The simplest and most common means of enlarging a sentence 
 is by the extension, or repetition, of the final cadence — that eflfect 
 which is so frequent in the chamber and symphonic music of Haydn, 
 and which has its comic manifestation in the so-called "crescendo" 
 of the Rossini Operatic Overture.^ 
 
 EatdK: Qua/rtX!t, op. 74, jyb. 2 
 
 -W= T T P i — I*- 
 
 m 
 
 ^ — Y — r 
 
 iE^2 
 
 ^ ^ a- - W 5? — =F — s — 
 
 (*). 
 
 -5 — i • •-*- 
 
 ^ i J 
 
 J. 
 
 ±-l 
 
 w 
 
 aJJidSzilJL dS 
 
 
 y " I ■ - - 
 
 A 
 
 
 JTn '"- 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 s 
 
 5==:^ 
 
 s s 
 
 ?=^ 
 
 *= 
 
 • » m0- 
 
 r ' r f M 
 
 r 
 
 */' 
 
 -(=- 
 
 j=^^ 
 
 8a, 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 -•- -•- -•- -•- -•- -•- -# 
 
 -j?— ' — X- 
 
 8b, 
 
 8c. 
 
 8d 
 
 ' For a burlesque of this practise see the closing measures of the Scherzando 
 movement of Beethoven's Eighth Symphony. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 63 
 
 As Haydn was an important pioneer in freeing instnimental struc- 
 ture from dependence on the metre of words, his periods are 
 always cleaxly organized; the closing measures of this example seem, 
 as it were, to display a flag, telling the Hstener that the first breath- 
 ing-place is reached. Very often both the fore-phrase and the 
 after-phrase have cadential prolongations, an example of which may 
 be found in Haydn's Quartet, op. 71, No. 3. The two following 
 illustrations (the first movement of Beethoven's Fifth Sonata and 
 the third movement of the Fourth) furnish remarkable examples of 
 extended 16 measure sentences; each sentence being normal and 
 synunetrical at the outset and then, as the fancy of the composer 
 catches fire, expanding in a most dramatic fashion. Sometimes 
 the additional measures, in an extended sentence, are found at the 
 start; a clear example of this is the first sentence (with its repeated 
 opening measure) of the Largo of the Seventh Sonata. Sentences 
 are also often expanded by the insertion of one or more measures 
 in the middle of the phrase, e. g., the beginning of the first movement 
 of the Seventh Sonata and the corresponding place in the Fourth. 
 In the former sentence the first phrase is perfectly regular, but as we 
 reach our final cadence only in the tenth measure, we must account 
 for some additional measures. The polyphonic imitation of ■ the 
 descending motive of measure 5 makes clear 'that this measure has 
 two repetitions. In the latter case we reach the end of the sentence 
 in the 17th measure and careful counting, and consideration of the 
 melodic outline, wiU convince us that the 9th measure, emphasized 
 by the sf mark, is repeated. 
 
 When an extra measure is systematically introduced into each 
 phrase of 4 measures we have what is known as "five-bar rhythm" — 
 so prevalent in the works of Schubert and Brahms. 
 
 Allegretto 
 
 H 1 -i 
 
 Wnw^ 
 
 : »M^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 1 f 
 
 SCHUBBBT: Sofiota in £i^ ■nvaoor 
 
 ! *•• f. 
 
 =Ui: 
 
 » . ^ f^ 
 
 M 
 
 -V 
 
64 
 
 ( 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 -1^— '^ 
 
 ?^r^- 
 
 1 ^^ 
 
 gfSfe 
 
 li^ 
 
 -''^-^ 
 
 3a 
 
 Allegro energico 
 
 Bbahms : BaUade in G minor 
 
 #s*l 
 
 I — r 
 
 ^ 
 
 la 
 
 3 
 
 Lr_^M ?T^^,^! 
 
 3 
 
 ^: 
 
 i± 
 
 ^ 
 
 5a 6 7 8 
 
 As everyone is familiar with the latter composition, only the mel- 
 ody is cited. This propulsion of the mind forward beyond the accus- 
 tomed point of rest always produces a stimulating rhythmic effect. ^ 
 The normal phraseology of four and eight measures is altered at 
 times by the omission of certain measures. This often takes place 
 at the beginning of the sentence, as may be seen from the structure 
 of the so-called AngHcan chant, familiar to all Protestants, e. g. 
 
 HUMPHEET 
 
 2 , , 4 6 , , ,8 
 
 i^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^z 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 
 J- 
 
 .X A A A - 
 
 s 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 r 
 
 1 Other charming examples of five-bar rhythm may be found in Schubert's 
 Quartet in A minor, op. 89, and in the opening choral (St. Anthony) of Brahms's 
 Orchestral Variations, op. 56 a. 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 65 
 
 The beginning of Mozaxt's Overture to Figaro is also well known, e. g. 
 Allegro 
 
 m 
 
 "^ 
 
 ? 
 
 ^ 
 
 3 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 ■*^ 
 
 #^^^^^ 
 
 St 
 
 ^ 
 
 S' 
 
 > * ^ 
 
 -I — I — I — M-^ 
 
 The elision of a measure often takes place in the middle of a 
 iphrase as may be seen from the theme of Mendelssohn's familiar 
 Spring-Song. 
 
 i* 
 
 ii=^ 
 
 ^B 
 
 f^^ 
 
 IE 
 
 4 N.B. 6 "~"~ 
 
 Just as in the case of the systematic insertion of an extra measure, 
 which produces "five-bar rhythm," so when a measure is omitted 
 in each phrase which would usually consist of four measures, we 
 have "three-bar rhythm." This gives an effect of great concentra- 
 tion and intensity and is a prevalent feature in Scottish and Hun- 
 garian folk-music, e. g. 
 
 Scotch 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 i: 
 
 ^ .j-f-t^ 
 
 r^ 
 
 izrtiii 
 
 P 
 
 -• s 
 
 itrrt 
 
 rF 
 
 t=^ 
 
 -S -^ d d 
 
 -r-^t^^-^ 
 
 i^t 
 
 :^ 
 
 m 
 
 8 
 Hungarian 
 
 1 
 
 :p=?c 
 
 F^ 
 
 # 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^S 
 
 atzt 
 
 m • P 
 
 •=^ 
 
 i^ 
 
66 
 
 JIUSIC: AS ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Additional examples of three-bar rhythm may be found in the Scherzo 
 of Beethoven's Tenth Sonata and in the Minuet of Mozart's G 
 minor Symphony — the latter, one of the most striking examples in 
 literature. 
 
 When a measure is systematically omitted from the normal 
 structure of the 8 measure sentence we have "seven-bar rhythm"; 
 of which beautiful examples may be found in the Scherzo of Bee- 
 thoven's Sonata in B flat major, op. 106, and in Mozart's Quartet 
 in F major. No. 23. As these examples are readily accessible they 
 are not quoted. The humorous effect produced, in the Beethoven 
 example, by the unexpected elision of the 7th measure is very marked. 
 
 Flexibihty in the structure of a sentence is often gained by what 
 is known as "overlapping"' of phrases, i. e., where the closing measure 
 of a sentence, the 8th or 12th for example, is identical with the first 
 measure of the following phrase. A clear example is this passage 
 from the first movement of Beethoven's Third Sonata, e. g. 
 
 12 = 1 ^-i, PT 
 
 E 
 
 -^ — ^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 I 
 
 r 
 
 «r^TT 
 
 ^/ 
 
 sf 
 
 } 
 
 As the principles of sentence-formation are closely involved with 
 the general subject of rhythm, something must be known about the 
 number of beats within the measure itself. While it is true that we 
 Anglo-Saxons tend to think in terms of 2 and 3 or their multiples, i. e., 
 our customary measures consist of 2 or 4 beats or of 3, 6, 9 and 12, 
 
 ' This effect is clearly brought out in symphonic music where one portion of 
 the orchestra, with a certain tone color, may be ending a phrase at the same 
 moment at which another part, with a contrasting tone color, begins. An excellent 
 example is the first theme of the Slow movement of Schumann's Second Sym- 
 phony (measures 7-8). 
 
THE MUSICAL SENTENCE 
 
 67 
 
 in modern music — particularly that of other races (the Slavs, 
 Hungarians, etc.) — we often find measures with 5 and 7 beats and 
 even phrases containing a mixture of rhythms. Three excellent 
 examples of compositions with measures of 5 beats eacli are the Slow 
 Movement of Chopin's Sonata in C minor, op. 4, the F sharp major 
 portion of d'Indy's Symphonic Variations, Istar, and the second 
 movement of Tchaikowsky Sixth Symphony, e. g. 
 
 Allegro con grazia. 
 
 m^ 
 
 =^— 8= 
 
 i*=ij= 
 
 mf 
 
 g« 
 
 8 
 
 r^7 ti 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 *=*; 
 
 -=H( — «- 
 
 :*!=- 
 
 i 
 
 -^ i^- 
 
 .^ 
 
 
 i^ 
 
 9^ %-r--rf- 
 
 ■^=^-&- 
 
 w 
 
 ^ 
 
 A delightful example of a melody with 7 beats a measure is the 
 Andante Gr^zioso of Brahms's Trio in C minor, op. 101 — the 
 result undoubtedly of his well-known fondness for Hungarian music. 
 
 e. g. 
 
 i^mvi-i- 
 
 The following theme from Tchaikowsky's Quartet in F major, not- 
 withstanding the time signature, certainly gives the effect of a long, 
 seven-beat measure, e. g. 
 
68 MUSIC: 
 
 Allegro giusto. 
 
 AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 i 
 
 SSE 
 
 ^m 
 
 t=t: 
 
 =s=^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 =^=F= 
 
 # 
 
 3== ?=f=? 
 
 Those who wish to do a little investigating of their own in the field of 
 modern music will find interesting examples of | and \ metres 
 in Ravel's Daphnis and Chloe, in d'Indy's Sonata for Violin and 
 Pianoforte and in the Ballet music of Stravinsky. 
 
 We even find passages where, for special effect, the usual beats 
 are eHded or extra beats inserted. Schumann was one of the most 
 daring experimenters in this respect and such fantastic effects are 
 frequent in his pianoforte works — notably in the Camaval, op. 9, 
 and in the Phantasiestudce, op. 12, e. g. 
 
 Schumaitn: Camaval 
 
 
 # 
 
 i±^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 T=p-^-:| 
 
 Vc^Y — — ^ ^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 -W •- 
 
 I^!tzit 
 
 r 
 
 ^- 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^T^h-=¥ — J — ^ 
 
 ES 
 
 :t 
 
 ^ 
 
 With reference to all the foregoing principles and comments the 
 music-lover is cautioned against the assumption that music, from 
 the stand-point of the composer or the listener, is merely a matter of 
 mechanical counting; or that the "swing" of music is as regular as 
 that of a sewing-machine. But, as order is Heaven's first law, it is 
 true that music tends to move in definite, symmetrical groups; and 
 where departure is made from this practise the effect is one most 
 carefully planned. The matter deserves earnest consideration, for, 
 
THE TWO-PART AND THREE-PART FORMS 69 
 
 in what is known as the "rhythmical sense," Americans — as a 
 people, in comparison with foreign nations — are still woefully 
 deficient. As rhythm is the basic element in all music, there is 
 nothing in which the listener should more definitely train his facul- 
 ties than in intelligent cooperation with the freedom of the com- 
 poser. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TWO-PART AND THREE-PART FORMS 
 
 "^JOW that a clear insight has been gained into the formation of the 
 -^ ^ normal sentence, we are in a position to understand how sen- 
 tences may be combined to make complete compositions. The simplest 
 and most primitive structure is that nwhich contains two complete 
 sentences; dividing itself naturally into two parts and hence known 
 as the Two-Part Form. This form by reason of its simplicity and 
 directness is often found in the short pianoforte pieces of Schumann, 
 Tchaikowsky, Brahms, Grieg and Pebussy. For a long period there 
 was no attempt at differentiation between vocal and instrumental 
 style; music, in fact, during the 15th and 16th centuries was often 
 entitled "buon da cantare ou suonare," i. e., equally well suited for 
 voices or instruments. When instrumental players were in search 
 of pieces, they simply transferred to their instruments the voice-parts 
 of the Madrigals and Canzonas which were then so fashionable.^ 
 With the development of instruments — especially of the Viohn 
 family — and with the desire for an instrumental style which should 
 be independent of words, principles of coherent design had to be 
 evolved; and they were suggested by the definite metre in the stanzas 
 of the Folk-song and, above all, by the symmetrical phrases of the 
 Folk-dance, used to accompany the rhythmical motions of the body. 
 By a utilization of these principles of balanced phrases, of contrasted 
 keys and of periodic themes, instrumental music gradually worked out 
 
 1 For a complete account of this process see Parry's Evolution of the Art of 
 Music, p. lis seq. 
 
70 
 
 MUSIC: AN AllT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 a structure of its own/ of which we find examples in National dances 
 and in the compositions of such pioneers of instrumental style as the 
 Italians Corelli and Vivaldi, the Frenchmen Lully, Couperin and 
 Rameau, and the Englishman Purcell. 
 
 Poco allegro 
 
 ^^^^=^_ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ¥- 
 
 "So 
 
 ■^ 
 
 train - te L'on y for-me des voeux ; Viens, Viens dans ce bo - ca - ge belle A - 
 
 ^i 
 
 -J— ^« i 
 
 i — ji I * - ^- ii I 4 — I * 
 
 J g L^ ^ 1- ^ # 
 
 i 
 
 N ^ 
 
 :t=dSi 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^t^ 
 
 ^- 
 
 4- ^ ^ i^- ^i 
 
 s 
 
 min - te, II est fait pour les plai - sirs et les jeux. 
 
 p , I I 
 
 =i=it 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 s 
 
 3=4=^ 
 
 ' This book makes no attempt to give an historical account of the develop- 
 ment of instrumental form. The subject is set forth comprehensively in the 
 article on Form in Grove's Dictionary (Vol. II, p. 73) and in the Fifth and Sixth 
 Chapters of Parry's Evolution of the Art of MuAe. 
 
THE TWO-PART AND THREE-PART FORMS 
 
 71 
 
 In this rhythmic and sprightly dance of exactly 8 measures (an old 
 French Tamhourin taken from Weckerlin's Eckos du Temps Passi) 
 we see clearly the influence of the metrical stanza of words and of the 
 balanced phrases in the instrumental part, necessary to accompany 
 the steps of the dancers. The melody of the accompaniment was 
 played on a flute or some simple kind of pipe, and the bass on a 
 Tambour de Basque — arudeformof drum, which repeated continually 
 the tonic and dominant of the key; the same efiFect which we associate 
 with the Bagpipe and Hurdy-gurdy. 
 
 PUBCELI,: Jig. 
 
 i^ 
 
 fvfHfr i rrf r ^#^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 -fZ-- 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 h' U ' U 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^' i r I L 
 
 » • f m 
 
 -0-^ 
 
 i 
 
 ■«-=- 
 
 -m- -f- 
 
 m 
 
 ■*- -ft. 
 
 4 
 
 ±=t: 
 
 i 
 
 -*-^-m- 
 
 I^ 
 
 t*^ ' ^ J 
 
 s 
 
 :^ 
 
 w 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 fe=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 PCiZ 
 
 =?c:i= 
 
 ^ 
 
 :tti 
 
 -f-4- 
 
 ^ 
 
 W: 
 
 t 
 
 In this Jig, which was a favorite type with the English peasantry — 
 divided into three sentences of exactly 8 measures each — the dance 
 rhythm is very sharply defined. From various dance-patterns a 
 structural type was gradually evolved, of which the chief features will 
 now be indicated. The music was divided into two distinct halves and 
 it became the convention to gain length by repeating each half — 
 in the early days of the form, literally (with a double bar and sign of 
 repeat) ; later, as composers gained freedom, with considerable ampli- 
 fication. Each haK presented the same material (it was a one-theme 
 form) but the two halves were contrasted in tonality, i. e., the first 
 
72 MUSIC: AN ART AM) A LANGUAGE 
 
 part, beginning in the home-key, would modulate to some related key 
 — generally the dominant; the second part, starting out in this key, 
 gradually modulated back to a final cadence in the original key, and 
 often — especially in Haydn and Mozart — repeated the entire main 
 sentence of the first part. The general effect of such a form has been 
 wittily described' as resembling the actions of "the King of France 
 who, with twenty thousand men, marched up the hill and then 
 marched down again" — but he surely had few exciting adventures in 
 between! It is evident that this form, while favorable to coherence 
 and unity, is lacking in scope and in opportunity for pronounced 
 contrast. It did, however, emphasize the principle of recapitulation; 
 in fact it became the convention (as we shall see in the dances of the 
 Suite) for the closing measures of the second part to be an exact dupli- 
 cate in the home-key of that which had been presented at the end of 
 part one. We shall observe, as we continue our studies, that the trend 
 of musical composition gradually swung over to the Three-part form, 
 the essential feature of which is restatement after intervening contrast. 
 
 For illustrations of the Two-part Form see the Supplement Nos. 
 20, 21, 22i 23, 24. 
 
 Only in such comparatively simple examples as those just cited is 
 found this perfect balance in the length of the two parts. We often 
 observe extended sentences in the first part; and it became the custom 
 for the second part to be considerably lengthened, to include modula- 
 tions into more remote keys and even to display certain developments 
 of the main material. For a striking example of a movement which, 
 although definitely in Two-part form, (i. e., it is in two clear divisions 
 and has but one theme) is yet of considerable scope and variety, see 
 the Allegretto of Beethoven's Fourth Sonata. It was, in fact, this 
 instinct for contrast and variety in the second part' which (as can be 
 shown from historical examples)^ gradually led to the developing and 
 establishment of the Three-part form. 
 
 The essentials of this structvu-e, so frequent in all pianoforte 
 literature, are the existence of three distinct parts — hence the 
 name: a clause of assertion in the home-key; a second clause, 
 affording a genuine contrast to the first part in regard to key, 
 
 ' See The Appreciation of Music by Surette and Mason, p. 36. 
 
 » 
 * As an illustration of this tendency see the Scherzo of Beethoven's Second 
 
 Sonata, the second part of which has a new theme of its own, although the move- 
 ment as a whole is clearly in Two-part form. 
 
 ' See The Sonata Form by W. H. Hadow, Chapter III. 
 
THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 73 
 
 melodic outline and general treatment, and a third clause of 
 reassertion, which shall repeat — either literally or in varied form — 
 the material of part one.' In the Three-part form, as employed in the 
 classic Minuet and Scherzo, each of the three parts taken by itself is 
 in complete Two-part form; and as the third part was generally a 
 hteral repetition of part one, it was not written out, but at the end of 
 the middle part (called the Trio, because it was originally written in 
 three- voiced harmony) we find the direction "Minuet or Scherzo da 
 capo," meaning a return to the first part. A coda or tail-piece is 
 often added to round out the form. As the student wUl become 
 thoroughly familiar with the Three-part form, in connection with 
 the classic Symphonies soon to be studied (each Minuet, Scherzo or 
 Trio being an example), our illustrations show the use of this form in 
 independent pieces and are chiefly taken from modern literature; the 
 object being so to interest the student in the beauty of these com- 
 positions as to convince him that in all good music content and design 
 go hand in hand. For examples^ see Supplement Nos. 25, 26, 27. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 
 
 NO sooner had the Two- and Three-part forms become accepted 
 as definite means of instrumental expression, than composers 
 were eager to try their skiU in combining dance-movements in such 
 forms into larger groups. These compositions — known in France 
 as Ordres, in Germany as Suites and Partitas and in England as 
 Lessons — though all the movements were in the same key, yet 
 showed considerable variety by reason of the contrast in the dance 
 rhythms. They were, moreover, simple, direct and easily under- 
 
 1 The three-part form is derived partly from the Italian " da Capo Aria " 
 and partly from the fundamental instinct for restatement which we have seen in 
 the Folk-song. 
 
 ^ Additional illustrations, which will repay study are the following; the Alle- 
 gretto of Beethoven's Sixth Sonata; the Schubert Impromptu, op. 90, No. 4; 
 Brahms's Intermezzo, op. 117, No. 1 and the Ballade in G minor, op. 118, No. 3, 
 and for orchestra — in extended treatment — Debussy's Frdlude d Vaprh-tnidi 
 d'un Faune. 
 
74 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 stood of the people.^ This development was furthered by the per- 
 fecting of two groups of instruments: The violins, by the great 
 Italian masters; and those precursors of our modern pianoforte, the 
 harpsichord, clavichord and spinet. We find, consequently, the 
 Italians — of whom CoreUi was most prominent — combining these 
 dances into groups called Sonate da Ballo; and the French composers 
 Couperin and Rameau, developing the possibilities of keyed stringed 
 instruments in graceful pieces to which fantastic titles, such as La 
 Poule, Le'Rappel des Oiseaux, etc., were often given. The greatest 
 master of instrumental style in these early days was the ItaUan, 
 Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757). He was famous both as composer 
 and performer — the first, in fact, of the long Une of key-board 
 virtuosi — and in his compositions in dance form and in those of a 
 more abstract type there is a sparkling fancy and an adjustment of 
 the thought to his instrument, which wiU keep them forever immortal.* 
 
 The grouping together of dance forms reached its highest devel- 
 opment through the genius of Sebastian Bach in the so-called French 
 and English Suites.^ In these compositions —in the Partitas and in 
 the orchestral Suite in D major, which contains the well-known 
 Aria, often played in transcription for Violin solo — the dance- 
 forms are not employed literally but are made a vehicle for the ex- 
 pression of varied types of human emotion and sentiment. Nor 
 should we overlook the twelve Harpsichord Lessons of Handel — 
 especially the superb Fugue in E minor in the Fourth Suite — which 
 are noteworthy for their vigor, though, in freshness and delicacy of 
 invention, not to be compared with Bach's. 
 
 We now give a tabulated list of the customary dance forms, 
 both as found in the Classic and the modern Suite or used as inde- 
 pendent pieces; and we shall then analyze those which have the most 
 characteristic rhythmic pattern. 
 
 • For an interesting and comprehensive account of this development see Grove's 
 Dictionary, Voliune IV, article on the Suite. 
 
 * For extensive comments on Scarlatti's style see The History of the Pianoforte 
 and Pianoforte Players by Oscar Bie, pp. 68-90. 
 
 ' These titles, according to Parry (see his life of Bach, Chapters IV and XII 
 passim), were not given by Bach himself but were assigned, in the case of the 
 French Suites, to denote the delicacy of treatment found therein , and in the Eng- 
 lish, a certain massive style. 
 
THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 
 
 76 
 
 LIST OF DANCES 
 
 Namf, 
 
 Origin 
 
 Metes 
 
 Form 
 
 Ceabactkr 
 
 Allemande 
 
 Suabian 
 
 1 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Moderately quick; flowing, 
 with a rather rich har- 
 monic texture. 
 
 /( Courante 
 I Corrente 
 
 French 
 
 hi 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Running, lively; the J tj-pe 
 
 Italian 
 
 
 
 always with a change of 
 
 
 
 
 
 meter at the cadences. 
 
 Sarabande 
 
 Spanish 
 
 11 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Stately, dignified; often no- 
 ble and even dramati- 
 cally pathetic. 
 
 Hornpipe 
 
 F.nglish 
 
 i 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Rapid, merry, energetic. 
 
 Gigue 
 
 Italian giga, an 
 
 i. ^8^ 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Very lively, rollicking, even 
 
 Jig 
 
 early violin 
 
 1 
 
 
 jocose. 
 
 Gavotte 
 
 French 
 
 t.§ 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Moderately fast; well- 
 marked rhythm, often 
 stately. 
 
 Bounce 
 
 French 
 
 t 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Lively, vigorous. 
 
 ' Minuet 
 
 French 
 
 1.1 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Moderately fast; dainty. 
 
 ^aaa^ied 
 Loure 
 
 
 
 
 graceful, courtly. 
 
 French 
 
 I 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Light, delicately animated. 
 
 French 
 
 l.i 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Rather slow, stately. 
 
 Favane 
 
 Italian 
 
 1 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Solemn, impressive. 
 
 Galliard 
 
 Italian 
 
 l.i 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Lively, merry. 
 
 (Branle 
 
 French 
 
 1.1 
 
 Two-part 
 
 Lively, with great abandon. 
 
 1 Brawl 
 
 English 
 
 
 
 
 Polonaise 
 
 Polish 
 
 1 
 
 Varied 
 
 Dignified and courtly, but 
 with life. 
 
 Mazurka 
 
 Polish 
 
 1 
 
 Varied 
 
 Great range of speed and 
 effect; at times sus- 
 tained and pathetic, often 
 bright and lively. 
 
 Polka 
 
 Bohemian 
 
 1 
 
 Generally 
 three-part 
 
 Merry, animated. 
 
 Furiant 
 
 Bohemian 
 
 s 
 
 4 
 
 Varied 
 
 Very lively, even frenzied. 
 
 Waltz 
 
 German 
 
 1 
 
 Two-part 
 or three- 
 part 
 
 Graceful; varied in effect; 
 at times lively, often 
 slow. 
 
 Bol&o 
 
 Spanish 
 
 1 
 
 Three-part 
 
 Brisk, well-marked rhythm. 
 
 Tarantella 
 
 Italian 
 
 i 
 
 Varied 
 
 Very lively, impassioned. 
 
 Salterello 
 
 Italian 
 
 i.l 
 
 Varied 
 
 With quick, jumping 
 rhythm. 
 
 Rigaudon 
 
 French 
 
 I.t 
 
 Varied 
 
 Lively, gay. 
 
 March 
 
 Found in every 
 nation 
 
 1 
 
 Varied 
 
 Stately, with marked 
 rhythm. 
 
76 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 LIST OP DANCES— Concluded 
 
 Name 
 
 Oeigin 
 
 Meter 
 
 Form 
 
 Character 
 
 Cs4rd4s 
 
 Hungarian 
 
 11 
 
 Varied 
 
 Impassioned; with great 
 variety of effect. 
 
 Hailing 
 
 Scandinavian 
 
 1 
 
 Varied 
 
 Fresh, vigorous, out-of- 
 doors atmosphere. 
 
 Tango 
 
 Mexican 
 
 Varied 
 
 Varied 
 
 With reckless abandon. 
 
 Habanera 
 
 Spanish 
 
 1 
 
 Varied 
 
 Graceful; with characteris- 
 tic rhythm. 
 
 Seguidilla 
 
 Spanish 
 
 I.I 
 
 Varied 
 
 Fantastic; sometimes state- 
 ly, sometimes gay and 
 lively. 
 
 Jota, often Jola 
 Aragonesa 
 
 Spanish 
 
 1 
 
 Free 
 
 A kind of waltz, but with 
 
 
 
 
 more freedom in the 
 
 
 
 
 
 dancing, and of a vigor- 
 
 
 
 
 
 ous and fiery nature. 
 
 Malaguena 
 
 Spanish 
 
 i 
 
 In couplet 
 form 
 
 A dance of moderate move- 
 ment, accompanied by 
 guitar and castanets; lan- 
 guorous and sensual in 
 mood. 
 
 Sieiliano 
 
 Sicilian 
 
 i.¥ 
 
 Two-part, 
 three-part, 
 often a 
 Rondo 
 
 Graceful; of a Pastorale 
 nature. 
 
 The four indispensable movements of the classic or 18th century 
 Suite were the Allemande, the Coiu-ante, the Sarabande and the 
 Gigue; and, between the last two, it became customary to insert an 
 optional number of other dances — the most usual being the Gavotte, 
 Bourree, Minuet and Passepied. In effect, the Suite was a kind of 
 "international Potpourri" of the dances most in vogue, and affords 
 us a vivid reflection of the manners and customs of the period. 
 Many of the Enghsh Suites begin with an elaborate polyphonic 
 Prelude. We shall not give a detailed analysis of all these dance 
 movements; for the main characteristics the tabluated list will 
 suffice, and in the book of Supplementary examples (see No. 35) will 
 be found the 6th French Suite complete. It will be more useful to 
 center attention on those dances which, in rhythmic pattern, are 
 especially typical and are most frequently employed in modern 
 music; and we shall select, as examples drawn from various sources, 
 those dances which make a direct appeal. The most characteristic 
 of the dances are the Sarabande, the Gavotte, the Minuet and the 
 
THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 
 
 77 
 
 Gigue; and with the last, as exemplifying the same spirit, may be 
 grouped the Bigaudon, Furiant, Tarantelle and Saltarello. 
 
 The Sarabande is a slow, stately dance; always in triple meter 
 indicated by i or | . Its striking features are the frequent occur- 
 rence of the rhythmic pattern 
 
 J J. .Hj j il - j 7. -Hj. J"! 
 
 in which it is evident that there is a strong accent on the weak beats; 
 and the prevalence of feminine endings in the cadences. The Sar- 
 abande always displays great depth of emotion — often of a tragic 
 and impassioned kind; and, in the Suite, seems to have served the 
 composer for the same outpouring of feeling which we associate with 
 the slow movement in the later Sonata or Symphony. The example 
 cited in the Supplement (See No. 28) — taken from one of Bach's 
 Sonatas for 'cello — is considered one of the most beautiful in exist- 
 ence. Other eloquent Sarabandes may be found in the Second and 
 Third English Suites and in Handel's noble Air "Lascia ch'io pianga" 
 from the opera of Rinaldo. Two fine modern examples of this dance 
 are the second number in Paderewski's Hurhoresques de Concert, op. 
 14, and the second number in the set of pieces by Debussy, Pour le 
 Piano —Prelude, Sarabande, Toccata. Composers sometimes em- 
 ploy the Sarabande rhythm for its inherent beauty, or for dramatic 
 purposes without indication of the fact. Examples are the theme for 
 variations in Beethoven's Sonata, op. 109, and the opening measures 
 of the Egmont Overture where, by means of the characteristic Spanish 
 dance-rhythm, an atmosphere of oppression and dejection is estab- 
 lished, e. g. 
 
 Sostenuto. 
 
 J^u i' b n^Vf i g g : t^ p T P WF ■^^ i ? — n 
 
 tf ^ Jt i f 
 
 / 
 
 Marcato. 
 
 P 
 
 The Gavotte is an energetic yet dignified dance in duple rhythm 
 (it is almost always played too fast) — the characteristics of which 
 are its beginning on the half -measure and its strongly marked ca- 
 dences. One of the most stirring examples is that cited from the 
 
78 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Third English Suite (See Supplement No. 29) which, with its sub- 
 dued middle portion, La Musette,' is an early example of tripartite 
 arrangement. Other gavottes* are the favorite one from the Fifth 
 French Suite, that from Handel's opera OUone (so often played in 
 organ or pianoforte transcriptions) and, from modern literature, the 
 charming one in d'Albert's Suite for Pianoforte, op. 1. 
 
 The Minuet is of particular interest, not alone because of the 
 many beautiful examples of its use but because it is the only dance 
 which, carried over from the Suite, has remained an integral move- 
 ment of Symphonic compositions. The Minuet, in its older form, 
 was a stately dance; the derivation of the term (French menu) 
 referring to the dainty steps of the dancers, always in | or I metre 
 and beginning on the first beat of the measure. By Haydn the char- 
 acter of the Minuet was considerably changed; the tempo becomes 
 much faster, the music begins on the third beat of the measure 
 instead of the first and the mood is one of playful humor — at times 
 even of dowmight jollity. In the Minuets of Mozart the peculiar 
 characteristics are grace and tenderness rather than rollicking fun, 
 e. g., the charming examples in the E flat major and G minor Sym- 
 phonies. Concerning the transformation by Beethoven of the 
 Minuet into the Scherzo, with its fantastic and freakish atmosphere, 
 we shall speak more fully in connection with his Symphonies. Of 
 the examples cited in the Supplement (see Nos. 30 and 31) the former, 
 from the first Finale of Mozart's opera Don Giovanni, remains one of 
 the most famous minuets in existence; and the two from Bameau's 
 opera. Castor and Pollux, are of inimitable spontaneity and rhythmic 
 grace. They are grouped in contrasting, tripartite arrangement. 
 In modern literature overy one knows of the melodious example for 
 Pianoforte by Paderewski (No. 1 of the Humoresques de Concert) and 
 the Menuet Ualien by Mrs. Beach; that in the last scene of Verdi's 
 Falstaff is also well worth acquaintance. 
 
 The last of the partictilarly characteristic dances is the Gigue 
 with its counterparts mentioned above. This is a rapid, animated 
 dance in |, |, ^|, H (sometimes J) with marked rhythm; the term 
 being derived from giga (German, geige) — an early name for 
 
 ^ So-called because it is written on a sustained bass note or pedal point; a 
 feature of the Musette (the French name for Bagpipe) being its persistent drone 
 bass on the tonic and the dominant. 
 
 ' An interesting example may also be found in (jrrieg's Holherg State for 
 Pianoforte. 
 
THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 79 
 
 fiddle — on account of the power of accent associated with the violin 
 family. The Gigue is always the closing number of Bach's Suites, 
 in order to give a final impression of irrepressible vitality and gaiety, 
 and is treated with considerable polyphonic complexity; in fact, his 
 gigues often begin like a complete Fugue. They are all in clear-cut 
 Two-part form; and it became the convention for the second part to 
 treat the motive in inverted form. The example cited from Bach's 
 Fifth French Suite (see Supplement No. 32) is unsurpassed for 
 rhythmic energy; the closing measures sound as if all the bells of 
 heaven were ringing. The example of Mozart (see Supplement No. 
 33) is noteworthy for its daring use of the dissonant element and for 
 its free modulations. Of the counterparts of the gigue the following 
 are excellent examples: The Bigaudon — the Finale of Grieg's 
 Holberg Suite, the vigorous one from Rameau's opera Dardanus, 
 and MacDowell's independent piece in this form, op. 49, No. 
 2; the Furiant — the Finale of Dvorak's Suite for Small Orchestra, 
 op. 39 (accessible in an efifective pianoforte arrangement for four 
 hands) ; the TaranteUe — Chopin's independent piece in this rhythm, 
 op. 43, and the briUiant Finale of Bheinberger's Pianoforte Sonata 
 for four bands, op. 122; the SaltareUo — the last movement of 
 Mendelssohn's Italian Symphony and the main portion of Berlioz's 
 Camaval Rcmiain Overture. One additional example is cited (see 
 Supplement No. 34), a Courante by D. Scarlatti, to give an ex- 
 ample of his pianoforte style. In connection with these dances, 
 especially the Sarabande, Gavotte, Loure, Pavane, Polonaise and 
 TaranteUe, there should be read the articles treating of each dance in 
 Grove's Dictionary; for these dances are so closely connected with 
 human activity that a knowledge of their development broadens our 
 horizon in many matters pertaining to social life and civilization in 
 general. As to specific examples of the less usual dances, many of 
 the quaintest are found in the works of the early English composers: 
 Byrd, BuU, etc., in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, e. g.. The Lord of 
 Salisbury his Pavan. An excellent example of the Loure is the well- 
 known arrangement from Bach's third 'Cello sonata. Chopin, in 
 his works, has glorified both the Polanaise and the Mazurka; Bizet, 
 in his opera Carmen, has used the Habanera and the Seguidilla, and 
 there is a wonderful use of the Habanera rhythm in Debussy's de- 
 scriptive piece Soir^ dans Grenade. The French composer Ravel 
 in his pianoforte piece Pavane pour une infante defunte has used with 
 remarkable effect the stately rhythm of that dance. The Spanish 
 
80 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 composers, Albeniz and Granados, frequently employ national dance 
 rhythms in their pieces. The French composer Chabrier's Bourree 
 Fardasqm is a dazzling modernization of the old form; and his Espana 
 for full orchestra fairly intoxicates us with its dashing rhythms based 
 upon the Jota and the Malaguena.' Debussy's well-known piece 
 Hommage a Rameau is in the style of the Sarabande. The allu- 
 sions in literature to these dances are so frequent that only a few can 
 be cited. The very spirit of the Jig is given in Pope's line "Make 
 the soul dance upon a jig to Heaven." In speaking of the antics of 
 Sir Andrew Aguecheek in TweKth Night, Shakespeare remarks — 
 "I did think by the excellent constitution of thy leg that it was 
 formed under the star of a Galliard." One of the most remarkable 
 works of the English composer John Dowland (born 1562) is entitled 
 Lachrymae, or Seven Teares, figured in seven passionate Pavans. 
 I The Suite, by reason of its freedom in combining different rhythms 
 and moods, has appealed vividly to modern composers; and the lit- 
 erature of our times contains a number of Suites which should be 
 known to the music-lover. In these modern Suites no attempt is 
 made to conform to the old conventional grouping of dances. The 
 movements are in different keys, are often based on rhythms of an 
 exotic or ultra-nationalistic type — as in Tchaikowsky and Dvorak, 
 or may employ any material suggested by the fantastic imagination 
 of the composer — as in Debussy and Ravel. Among the most 
 attractive modern Suites may be cited: The Peer Gynt (put together 
 from incidental music to Ibsen's play) and the Holberg by Grieg; the 
 two L'ArUsienne Suites by Bizet (written to illustrate Daudet's 
 romantic story) — the first, with its dainty Minuet and brilliant 
 Carillons (Peal of bells) ; Dvorak's Suite for SmaU Orchestra, op. 39, 
 with its sprightly Polka and impassioned Furiant; Tchaikowsky's 
 five Orchestral Suites of which the best known are the Casse-Noisette 
 with its exotic rhythms and novel orchestral effects, the Mozartiana 
 and the third which closes with a brilliant Polonaise; Brahms's 
 Serenades for orchestra; Charpentier's Impressions of Italy in which 
 there is an effective use of Italian rhythm and color; MacDowell's 
 Indian Suite, with several of the themes based on native tunes; 
 the fascinating orchestral Suite Adventures in a Perambulator by John 
 Alden Carpenter; Arthur Whiting's Suite Moderne for pianoforte; 
 Stevensoniana, (based on stanzas from Stevenson's Child's Garden of 
 
 ' For a vivid description of these dances see Chabrier's Lettres ct Nanette, Paris, 
 1910. 
 
THE CLASSICAL AND THE MODERN SUITE 81 
 
 Verses) an orchestral Suite in four movements by Edward B. Hill; 
 Debussy's Suite Bergamesque in which is found the oft-played Clair 
 de Lune; Ravel's^ Mother Goose, a delightful work — and by the same 
 composer the Daphnis and Chloe Suite, the material drawn from 
 an opera of the same name. In modern literature easily the most 
 celebrated and brilliant example of this type is the Scheherazade 
 Suite (based on the Arabian Nights) for full orchestra by Rimsky- 
 Korsakoff. This work in the genuine poetic quality of its themes, 
 in its marvellous descriptive power and in the boldness of its 
 orchestral effect remains unsurpassed. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE OLDER RONDO FORM 
 
 ONE of the earliest instrumental forms to be worked out^ was the 
 Rondo, which is merely an extension of the three-part principle 
 of "restatement after contrast" and which, by reason of its logical 
 appeal, has retained its place to this day. Originally the Rondo was 
 a combination of dance and song; that is, the performers sang and 
 danced in a circle — holding one another's hands. The music would 
 begin with a chorus in which all joined, one of the dancers would 
 then sing a solo, after which all would dance about and repeat the 
 chorus; other solos would follow, the chorus being repeated after 
 each. The characteristic feature, then, of this structure is the con- 
 tinual recurrence to a principal motive after intervening contrasts — 
 hence the name Rondo (French, Rondeau) ; exemplifying a principle 
 found not only in primitive folk-songs and dances but in literature, 
 e. g., many of the songs of Burns and the Rondeaux of Austin Dob- 
 son. For it is obvious that the form answers to the simplest require- 
 ments of unity and contrast. Frequent examples of the Rondo are 
 found in all early instrumental composers: Bach,e, gr., the charming 
 one in C minor in his third Partita; Couperin, Rameau, Haydn and 
 Mozart. It is found also in vocal works, e. g., Purcell's well-known 
 song "I Attempt from Love's Sickness to Fly. ' ' From the standpoint 
 of modern taste, however, Beethoven was — with few exceptions — 
 the first to treat the form with real genius; and so our illustrations 
 
 1 See also Le Tombeau de Couperin in which is a very novel Rigaudon. 
 ' For a complete account of the historical development see the article on Form 
 in Grove's Dictionary Vol. II and Hadow's Sonata Form, Chapter IX. 
 
82 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 are taken chiefly from his works and from those of his successors. 
 Although there need be no arbitrary limit to the alternation of the 
 chief part with the subsidiary portions — in fact, Beethoven's hu- 
 morous Rondo Capricdo, On a Lost Farthing has as many as eleven 
 sections — it gradually became conventional for the form to consist 
 of five parts: a first presentation and two repetitions of the main 
 theme together with two contrasting portions called Episodes, to 
 which a free Coda was often added. The form would then be A, 
 b. A', c, A", Coda — A' and A" indicating that the repetition need 
 not be literal, but often varied rhythmically and harmonically;.. not, 
 however, so as to obliterate the original outline. For in a well- 
 constructed Rondo the main theme must be one of such direct appeal 
 that we look forward to hearing it again; and the successive repeti- 
 tions must be so planned that we can easily enjoy this pleasure of 
 reminiscence. It also became customary not to block oflF the sec- 
 tions with rigid cadences but often to insert modulatory passages, 
 thus securing a continuous flow of thought. This practise we see 
 particularly in Beethoven and Schumann. The form which we are 
 discussing is the so-called Older Rondo Form, clearly derived from 
 the dance described above. Beginning^ with Beethoven, however, 
 we find numerous examples of a different kind of rondo treatment 
 which developed in connection with the Sonata Form — to be ex- 
 plained later. The Rondo-Sonata Form, as it is generally called, is 
 in fact a hybrid type, with certain features derived from rondo struc- 
 ture and certain from the pure sonata form. The Finales to Bee- 
 thoven's Sonatas, when entitled Rondos, are — with few exceptions 
 — of this Rondo-Sonata type. An excellent example, which should 
 be well known, is the Finale of the Sonata Pathetique. Although 
 thsre are many cases ot free treatment of the rondo principle, they 
 are all based on one or the other of these two fundamental types. 
 Schumann was extremely fond of this Older Rondo Form, as may 
 be seen from his frequent practice of writing two Trios to the Scherzos 
 of his Symphonies. A moment's thought will make clear that a 
 Scherzo with two Trios and the customary repetitions will conform 
 exactly to the pattern given above, i. e.. A, b. A', c. A" Coda, e. g.. 
 Scherzo, First Trio = First Episode, First return. Second Trio = 
 Second Episode, Final return and Coda — five portions in all, or six 
 when there is a Coda. For convincing examples see the Scherzos 
 
 ^ There is an early example in the Rondo of Mozart's Sonata for Pianoforte in 
 B flat major. 
 
THE OLDER RONDO FORM 
 
 83 
 
 of the First and Second Symphonies. Schumann's well-known 
 Arabesque for pianoforte, op. 18, is a beautiful, clear-cut example of 
 the form; with an interpolated modulatory passage between the 
 first episode and first return, and a poetic Coda which has, for its 
 closing measures, the chief motive in augmentation (already referred 
 to on p. 45), To show Schumann's partiality for this form the stu- 
 dent may be referred to Nos. 2 and 8 of the Kreisleriana (op. 16) 
 and to Nos. 1, 2 and 3 of the "Nachtstucke" (op. 23). The third 
 of the Romances (op. 28) — a remarkably free example in the group- 
 ing of the material and in the key-relationship — is cited in the 
 Supplement (No. 37). An excellent example (readily accessible), 
 popular by reason of its freedom of treatment, as well as for its 
 inherent sparkle and dash, is the Finale of Weber's Sonata in C 
 major, op. 24 — the so-called Moto Perpetuo. The most famous 
 example of this form in classical literature is undoubtedly the Finale 
 of Beethoven's Waldstein Sonata, op. 53, with its melodious and 
 easily remembered first subject, e. g. 
 
 Allegretto moderato 
 
 1 
 
 7i^~3^^sTfz- 
 
 
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 M 
 
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 fe)4 ^ H £;»fesJ- 
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 b 
 
 y 
 
 P " 
 
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 H 
 
 f — 
 
 -p 
 
 w — i^-^ 
 
 T 
 
 ly 
 
 1 
 
 1 rt ^ y 
 
 
 
 
 
 — 
 
 — 
 
 Fed. 
 
 *PPs^I'l<i. 
 
84 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
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 F^ ^-1^ 
 
 t tf:=F^^fF j^L h-;^ 
 
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 p 
 
 *£ 
 
 pi=s=£4 ^^i^ 
 
 
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 ^ &■- 
 
 tt=:rf= 
 
 PP 
 
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 ^p 
 
 9i 
 
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 — I- 
 
 IF 
 
 t 
 
 -.-t 
 
 -g gF 
 
 Alt 
 
 # gN^ 
 
 =^=?t 
 
 -^-4 
 
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 ^E 
 
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 g^^^^E^S^^^^^ 
 
 ^. 
 
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 Il7pi 
 
 ^£ 
 
 ^^^i^^i^^ 
 
 
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 IE 
 
THE VAKIATION FORM 85 
 
 its two episodes in A minor and C minor (which afford most dramatic 
 contrasts to the lyric quality of the main subject) and its glorious, 
 long-extended Coda of about three pages. ^ 
 
 As stated above, the Older Rondo-Form has not become obsolete; 
 indeed, by reason of its possibilities for emphasis and contrast it has 
 commended itseK to modern composers. Striking examples may be 
 found in the Finale of Brahms's Pianoforte Sonata in F minor, in the 
 Finale of Tchaikowsky's Fourth Symphony and, above all, in the 
 Symphonic Poems of Strauss, Don Juan and Till Eulenspiegel, in 
 which the form is admirably adapted to the dramatic needs of these 
 descriptive works. Additional examples, which can be readily pro- 
 cured, are the Slow Movement of the Sonata PatMtiqite, op. 13, 
 Beethoven's well-known Andante in F Tnajor — remarkable for its 
 brilliant Coda — and his Rondo, already cited. On the Lost Farthing. 
 (See Supplement No. 38). Although there is a certain stiffness 
 in this form these examples afford the student excellent rudimentary 
 practise in ease of listening. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE VARIATION FORM 
 
 ]\ /TONOTONY, as previously suggested, is more unendurable in 
 -'-"-'- music than in any of the other arts. We should therefore ex- 
 pect to find musicians inventing new devices to vary their thoughts 
 so that the interest of the hearer might be continually sustained and 
 refreshed. Thus there gradually grew up the form known as the 
 Varied Air — a term meaning the presentation of the same musical 
 material under different aspects. As far back as we can trace the 
 development of instrumental structure, there appears this instinct 
 for varying a simple tune by embellishments of a rhythmical and 
 melodic nature. Examples abound ia the works of the early Italian 
 masters, in the harpsichord pieces of the English composers Byrd 
 and BulP and in the music of Couperin and Rameau. But all these 
 
 ' For a complete detailed analysis of the movement see Prout, Applied Forms, 
 pp. 130-121. 
 
 ^ We would cite the piece entitled Les Buffons by Bull, and Byrd's variations 
 to the popular tune the Carman's Whistle, which lairter have considerable archaic 
 charm and distinction ; for Byrd was a real genius. These are readily accessible 
 in popular editions. 
 
86 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Variations, however interesting from a historical point* of view, are 
 very labored and lack any real poetic growth. They are, moreover, 
 often prolonged to an interminable length — one example, as late as 
 Handel, consisting of an Air with sixty-two Variations; prolixity or 
 "damnable iteration" being as bad a blemish in music as in any of 
 the other arts. In the early days of instrumental composition, about 
 all that composers could do was "to put the theme through its paces." 
 That is, there was no unfolding of the poetic possibilities of the melody. 
 The successive variations were all in the same key; the har- 
 monic basis was practically unchanged and the treatment consisted 
 of dressing up the theme with stereotyped embeUishment-figures 
 and of systematic rhythmic animation — produced by the addition 
 of more and more notes to each time unit. A standard illustration 
 of this type of Variations is the so-called Harmonious Blacksmith of 
 Handel from his Suite in E Major. This piece owes whatever pop- 
 ularity it may have preserved to the sturdy swing of the main theme 
 and to the fact that it makes no demand on the attention of the most 
 untrained listener. In fairness we should state that on the harpsi- 
 chord — with its contrasting stops and key-boards — for which the 
 piece was composed, there is possible more variety of efifect than on 
 the modern pianoforte. 
 
 Three collateral early forms deserve a passing mention because, 
 notwithstanding a certain rigidity of structure, they have been used 
 by the great masters for the expression of sublime thoughts. These 
 are the Ground Bass (or, as it is sometimes called, the Basso Ostinato) 
 the Chaconne and the PassacagKa* which, in modern literature, 
 is well represented by the magnificent "tour de force" that serves as 
 the Fina le to Brahms's Fowdh Svmvhonv . By a Ground Bass is meant 
 a theme, continually repeated, in the lowest voice, each time with 
 varied upper parts. An excellent example (see Supplement No. 39) 
 is the Aria "When I am laid in earth" from Purcell's Opera Dido and 
 Aeneas. It is evident that the persistent iteration of a striking 
 phrase in the bass gives an effect of dramatic intensity, as may be 
 
 seen in the sublime "Crucifixion" of Bach's Mass in B minor.' The 
 
 _^ — ^ 
 
 "^ ' Consult the comprehensive article on Variations in Grove's Dictionary 
 Vol. V. 
 
 ' For the derivation of the term consult the interesting article in Grove's 
 Dictionary, Vol. IV. 
 
 ^ A work before which Schumann said every musician should prostrate himself 
 in adoration. 
 
THE VARIATION FORM 87 
 
 Chaconne and Passacaglia are old dance forms (examples of the for- 
 mer being found in Gluck's Ballet Music) and are closely related to 
 the Ground Bass; since, in the majority of cases, we find the same 
 procedure in the announcement of the theme and in its subsequent 
 treatment. Two examples of the Chaconne from standard literature 
 are the famous one of Bach in D minor for solo violin and Beethoven's 
 thirty-two Variations in C minor for Pianoforte. The PassacagUa 
 is of importance as shown by the striking example for organ in C 
 minor by Bach on the following theme: ^^ /*T?^^" M/: 
 Largo ^ 
 
 P#/7 ' -d- 
 
 Ped. 
 
 Whoever has heard this majestic theme, which seems to bear the 
 sorrows of the world on its shoulders, announced on the deep-sound- 
 ing pedals will gain a lasting impression of the grandeur of Bach's 
 style. 
 
 By the time of Haydn, the technical skill of composers had im- 
 proved sufficiently so that we find in his works some genuinely in- 
 teresting examples of the Variation form, e. g., the set on the well- 
 known Austrian hymn from the Kaiser Quartet in C ma jor — in which 
 each of the five variations has a real individuality — and the Varia- 
 tions in F minor for Pianoforte: remarkable as an early example of the 
 varied treatment of two themes. 
 
 Most of Mozart's Variations are based upon popular themes and, 
 in general, may be considered as virtuoso pieces to show off the 
 agility of the performer. We find occasional examples, as in the 
 Clarinet Quintette and in the Sonata in A major, which are of more 
 intrinsic worth. 
 
 The genius of Beethoven first revealed the full possibilities of the 
 form. In fact, so remarkable was his work that such creative com- 
 posers as C6sar Franck and d'Indy consider the basic principles for 
 our modern development of music to be found in the Fugue of Bach 
 and the Varied Air of Beethoven. For, deadly dull as is the Varia- 
 tion form when treated in a stereotyped manner, by very reason of 
 its freedom from arbitrary rules it may be a most elastic medium for 
 the expression of poetic genius. The composer has but to invent a 
 striking characteristic theme, rich in potential development, and then 
 to let it develop for as long as he can retain the interest of his hearers. 
 Likewise for a great orator the simple rule is to state a theme on which 
 
88 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 something worth while may be said and then by presenting it in new 
 Ughts and with copious illustrations to drive the truth home. The 
 principal and significant changes which we owe to Beethoven are the 
 following : complete freedom in variety of key, so that at times (as in his 
 op. 34) each variation is in a new key; a frequent omission of the rigid 
 stops at the end of each variation, e. g., the Slow movement of thejji^ 
 S ymphon y_an.d_ &g jhird^moyeTipni-. nf the Trio, op. 96j so that a con- 
 tinuous flow of thought is preserved; the practice, so often followed 
 in modern literature, offounding variations on a double theme — of 
 which the Finale of Xhi^HStermc Symyhon y is a striking example. But 
 the chief advance in Beethoven is the entirely new conception of 
 what variations should be; not, according to him, mere mechanical 
 manipulations of the subject matter, but vital products of the imag- 
 ination, as varied as the members of a human family having the same 
 mother. Beethoven's variations, in fact, often seem like a series of 
 character-pieces, each with its own individuality and yet retaining an 
 organic relationship to the main thought. His fondness for the form 
 and his mastery over it is seen by the frequency of its use in the last 
 Sonatas and String-Quartets. Every composer since Beethoven has 
 written one or more works in the Variation form; but we can mention 
 only the most beautiful examples and then pass on to the daring con- 
 ceptions of the modern school. The V ariations by Schubert in his 
 String-Quartet in D minor on the Song, Death and ik e MauHen , 
 wHl amply repay study, and so will the yari ations Sirieuses, op. 54, 
 for the pianoforte by Mendelssohn. As for Schumann, he was very 
 happy in the use of this form, and his Symphonic Etudes, op. 13 — 
 in wealth of fancy and freedom of treatment — are quite unparalelled. 
 His Variations for two pianofortes, op. 46, deserve also to be known. 
 Among the finest examples since Beethoven are the numerous sets by 
 Brahms, remarkable alike for emotional power, for free and yet log- 
 ical treatment of the material and for solidity of workmanship. They 
 include the Variations on a theme from Handel for pianoforte, op. 24; 
 t he set for orchestra, op . 56a, on the St. Anthony Choral of Haydn ; 
 and the two sets, op. 3i», on themes from i'aganmm — universaUy 
 conceded to be the most brilliant examples for the pianoforte in 
 recent Uterature. 
 
 To speak now particularly of the modern school, there are five 
 compositions in this form which, for their daring novelty and sus- 
 tained eloquence, should be familiar to every music-lover and 
 heard as often as possible. For they are elaborate works which 
 
IHE VARIATION FORM 89 
 
 must be thoroughly known to be understood and loved. (1), There 
 is the set in Tchaikowsky's Pianoforte Trio in A minor, op. 50; note- 
 worthy for freedom of modulation and for the striking individuality 
 given to the different transformations of the theme — two of the 
 changes being to a Waltz and a Mazurka. (2) , The Symphonic Varia- 
 tions for Pianoforte and Orchestra of Cesar Franck, based on two 
 contrasting themes, one in the minor mode and one with modulations 
 to the major. The variations are not numbered and there are no rigid 
 stops; throughout the work Franck's marvellous power of modulation 
 and rich harmonic texture are eloquently manifested. (3), The I star 
 Variations for orchestra by d'Indy is one of the most original works in 
 the whole field; in that, for dramatic reasons connected with the sub- 
 ject, the usual order is reversed and the variations coTne first, gradually 
 becoming more and more simple until we reach the theme itself, pure 
 and unadorned. (4), The Symphonic Poem, Don Quixote, of R. 
 Strauss, a complex set of Variations on three themes which 
 typify respectively the characters of Cervantes' story; the Knight, 
 his attendant, Sancho Panza and Dulcinea. The variations are not 
 confined to a merely abstract or formal treatment of the material 
 but set before us a picture of the attributes of the characters 
 and a description of some of their spectacular adventures. (5),^ 
 Lastly the Enigma Variations for orchestra by Elgar, so-called 
 because the identity of the basic theme is not revealed. The varia- 
 tions are character-pieces which for individuality and charm are a 
 lasting glory to the genius of the composer.^ 
 
 We shall now analyze, with suggestive comments, two^ of the well- 
 known sets of Beethoven: the first movement of the Sonata, op. 26, 
 and the Six Variations on an original theme, op. 34. The variations 
 from the Sonata are an early work; but, although definitely section- 
 ahzed and with only one change of tonality, they clearly reveal 
 Beethoven's freedom of conception and his aversion to stereotyped 
 treatment. The theme itself is a suave, appealing melody, already 
 cited as an example of a sixteen-measure sentence, and admirably 
 suited for variation purposes, since it arouses at once the expectation 
 
 ' For a detailed account see the third volume of D. G. Mason's Appreciation 
 of Musie series. 
 
 2 These compositions are not printed in the Supplement, as it may be assumed 
 that the student can readily procure them. They are published in a number of 
 editions. 
 
90 
 
 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 of the listener.' The first variation is a kind of shadowy, mysterious 
 outline of the theme just presented, as if the composer were musing 
 upon the latent possibilities of his material. There is a quickening 
 of interest in the second variation which, with the theme in the bass, 
 may be likened to a 'cello solo of a mildly bravura nature. (Note the 
 fantastic accents on weak beats in measures 18, 22, 23, and 24.) In 
 the third variation comes a complete contrast in mood; the key is 
 changed to A-flat minor and the theme is transformed into an elegy, 
 all its joy crushed out. The movement abounds in impassioned 
 dissonances, always emphasized by sf marks, and the throbbing 
 pulsations of the bass — in the second phrase — give a tragic inten- 
 sity of feeling. With the fourth variation there enters that spirit of 
 playfulness so characteristic of Beethoven — the movement being, 
 in fact, a miniature Scherzo. The fifth and last variation is an 
 idyllic revery in which the composer reviews and amplifies the many 
 beautiful fancies which his imagination has conceived, and closes 
 with a coda, based on the motive of the main theme, of tranquillity 
 and satisfaction. 
 
 The set in F major, op. 34, is a striking illustration of Beethoven's 
 fondness for mediant relationship, since no two variations are in the 
 same key; the tonic of each being a third below that of the preceding. 
 The Key-scheme is F, D, B-flat, G, E-flat, C minor; and then, through 
 the descent of a fifth, back to the home-key, or in actual notes: 
 
 The first variation is a highly embellished treatment of the opening 
 theme; the melodic outline being merely hinted at in unimportant 
 parts of the phraseology, e. g. 
 
 original theme 
 
 m 
 
 W 
 
 im 
 
 ^ 
 
 ?? ^ ^ P ^^ 
 
 ' For some illuminating comments on the whole Sonata see Baxter Perry's 
 Descriptive Analysis of Pianoforte Works. (The Theodore Pressor Co.) 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 
 
 91 
 
 1st Variation 
 
 #=^ 
 
 + 
 
 — *— 
 
 — 1 
 
 t^ 
 
 -i — 
 
 -1 — 
 
 —f— 
 
 
 — 1 
 
 + 
 
 =h 
 
 H — 
 
 — •- 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 fe^ 
 
 — •— 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^^1 
 
 — i- 
 
 T- 
 
 — i 
 
 . 
 
 Written in the old ornate style, it is of interest chiefly for the pianistic 
 effect. In the second Variation we have a change both of time and 
 key; the impression being that of a distant march for men's voices 
 or for soft trombones. The third Variation, again with change of time 
 and key, illustrates Beethoven's fondness for a subtle outlining of 
 the theme. In the fourth Variation the theme is transformed into 
 a Minuet of graceful swing; and in the next Variation a strong con- 
 trast is afforded by the Funeral March, the minor mode being used 
 for the first time. The last Variation — in the home-key — gives 
 a brilliant summing up of the characteristic features of the theme. 
 Note especially the reminiscent effect of the closing measures. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS, EMMANUEL BACH 
 
 AND HAYDN 
 
 WE have now set forth, with representative illustrations, all the 
 fundamental forms of instrumental music, i. e., the Canon, 
 Fugue and Invention, the Two and Three-part forms, the Rondo 
 and the Varied Air. Through the perfecting of these means of ex- 
 pression music became a Uving language of communication, ready for 
 that development which, through the genius of the Classic and 
 
92 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Romantic masters, it was destined to show. The essential feature 
 of all the above forms is the emphasis laid on one theme. This is 
 strictly true of the polyphonic forms, the Canon, Fugue' and Inven- 
 tion and of the Two-part form; and although in the Three-part form 
 we have a second theme, this is merely for contrast and is often of 
 rather slight import. The same comment holds true of the Rondo 
 where, notwithstanding the new contrasting themes of the episodes, 
 the centre of attraction is the single main them£, to which constant 
 recurrence is made. Obviously the Varied Air is the expansion of a 
 single theme. But the principal characteristic of the Sonata-Form, 
 now to be studied, is that we find therein two themes of coequal im- 
 portance, which may well be compared to the hero and heroine of a 
 novel or the two leading characters in a drama. It is true that a 
 composer will often in the creations of his imagination show a marked 
 preference for one theme over the other; just as, in the family group 
 to which the child owes its life, either the man or the woman is likely 
 to be the stronger character. But as there can be no child with- 
 out two parents, so the organism of the Sonata-Form derives its 
 vitaUty from the presence and interaction of two Uving musical per- 
 sonalities, the first and second themes. The first theme is so called 
 because it is the one first presented and because it generally furnishes 
 the prevaiUng rhythmic pulse of the movement. Yet the second 
 theme, — exactly as important in its own way, is often of a greater 
 beauty; its title of "second theme" implying nothing of a secondary 
 nature, but merely its position in order of appearance. No greater 
 step was ever taken in the growth of musical structure than this in- 
 troduction of a second coequal theme; for the principle of duality, 
 of action and reaction between two forces, runs throughout nature 
 both human and physical, as is seen from the import of the terms: 
 man and woman, active and passive, positive and negative, heat and 
 cold, light and darkness. The first theme, in fact, often resembles, 
 in its vigor and directness, a masculine personahty; while the second 
 theme, in grace and tenderness, resembles the feminine. As long 
 as music confined itself to the presentation of but one main theme 
 it was hampered by the same Kmitations which beset the early Greek 
 tragedians, in whose primitive plays^ we find but one chief actor. The 
 
 ' Except in the comparatively rare cases where we have a Fugue on two 
 subjects. 
 
 ^ Illuminating comments on this point will be foimd in Outlines of Musical 
 Form from W. H. Hadow's Studies in Modem Music (2nd Series). 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 93 
 
 introduction of a second theme can not be attributed to any single 
 man; indeed it resulted from a tendency of the times, the demand of 
 which was for more homophonic melodies rather than for an elaborate 
 polyphonic treatment of a single one. Embryonic traces of a second 
 theme we find in D. Scarlatti (see Supplement No. 40) and in Sebastian 
 Bach himself.^ Scarlatti,^ in fact, was often hovering close to the 
 Sonata-Form and in the example just cited actually achieved it. The 
 systematic employment of the second-theme principle, however, is 
 commonly attributed to Emmanuel Bach (1714-1788), although an 
 undue amount of praise, by certain German scholars, has been given 
 his achievements to the exclusion of musicians from other nations 
 who were working along the same Hues. Any fair historical account 
 of the development of the Sonata-Form should recognize the Italians, 
 Sammartini and Galuppi; the gifted Belgian Gossec, who exercised 
 such a marked influence in Paris, and above all, the Bohemian 
 Johann Stamitz (1717-1757), the leader of the famous Mannheim 
 Orchestra, of whom we shall speak further when we come to the 
 orchestra as a medium. In many of Stamitz's Symphonies we 
 find the essential first-movement structure {i. e., tripartite grouping 
 with a clear second theme) and, as Riemann says in his Handbuch 
 der Musikgeschichte, "Their sincere phraseology, their boldness of con- 
 ception and the masterly thematic develojiment give Stamitz's works 
 lasting value. Haydn and Mozart rest absolutely upon his shoul- 
 ders."' 
 
 The other marked characteristic of the Sonata-Form is the second 
 part which is known as the Development Section; for, as we shall 
 soon explain, the structure as a whole is tripartite. In this portion 
 of the movement the composer has an opportunity to improvise, as 
 it were, with his material, using one theme or both as already pre- 
 sented. Dry and labored development sections may, of course, be 
 found in certain Sonatas and Symphonies, but in the great works of 
 such masters as Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikowsky and d'Indy the de- 
 velopment is the most exciting part of the movement. The hearer 
 
 ' See the prelude in D major of the second book of the Well-tempered 
 Clavichord. 
 
 2 For further information consult the first chapter of J. S- Shedlock's The 
 Pianoforte Sonata. 
 
 ' For an extended account of this development see the second chapter. Vol. II, 
 of The Art of Minic (The National Society of Music, N. Y.) . See also Chapter 
 XIX of Pratt's Hiatory of Music. 
 
94 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 is conducted through a musical excursion; every device of rhythmic 
 variety, of modulatory change and polyphonic imitation being em- 
 ployed to enhance the beauty of the themes and to reveal their latent 
 possibilities. 
 
 Before going further, it is well to point out a confusion which often 
 arises between the terms Sonata and Sonata-Form. When we speak 
 of Sonata-Form we mean invariably the structural treatment as to 
 number of themes, key-relationship, etc., of any single movement 
 within a series.' By the term Sonata is meant a composition gener- 
 ally in three or four movements, e. g.. First Movement, Slow Move- 
 ment, Minuet or Scherzo and Finale; of which, in most examples of 
 the classic school, the First Movement — and often the last — were 
 in Sonata-Form. An alternative name, indeed, for Sonata-Form is 
 First Movement Form. Beginning with Beethoven, however, com- 
 posers began to exhibit great freedom in the application of the Sonata- 
 Form. We find Sonatas of Beethoven, notably the set op. 31, in 
 which every movement (even the Scherzo) is in Sonata Form or a 
 modification thereof; on the other hand, there are compositions, en- 
 titled Sonatas, in which not a single movement is in pure Sonata- 
 Form, e. g., Beethoven's Twelfth Sonata, op. 26. These comments 
 apply equally to many other large instrumental works. For a sym- 
 phony is merely a Sonata for Orchestra, a String-Quartet a composi- 
 tion — of the same general type — for four solo instruments* and there 
 is, furthermore, a large group of ensemble compositions: Sonatas for 
 Violin (or any solo-instrument) and Pianoforte; Trios, often for un- 
 usual combinations, e. g., Brahms's Trio for Violin, Horn and Piano- 
 forte; Quintets and even Septets — in all of which the distinction 
 must be made between the terms Sonata and Sonata-Form. Nor is 
 there any rigid rule in regard to number of movements or the moods 
 expressed therein. The classic Sonata, Symphony or Quartet, as we 
 have stated above, generally contained three or four movements, of 
 which the first would be direct and vigorous in nature — a summons 
 to attention — cast in sonata-form, with a wealth of material organ- 
 ically treated, and requiring from the listener concentrated attention. 
 The second movement was generally much simpler in form, affording 
 relief after the tension of the preceding movement — its themes of a 
 lyric nature, often with great depth of emotion, sometimes even of 
 
 ' The form is also sometimes used independently, as in Brahms's Rha/psody in 
 G minor and often, of course, in the Overture. 
 
 ^ /. e., 1st Violin, 2d Violin, Viola and Violoncello. 
 
THE sbNATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 95 
 
 tragic import. The third movement. Minuet or Scherzo, would por- 
 tray the light, humorous side of life; and the Finale, joyful and opti- 
 mistic — its themes often bearing strongly the sense of finality — 
 would close the work with a general feeling of satisfaction. It was 
 Beethoven who first modified these principles to suit his own poetic 
 needs. Thus we find some of his Sonatas with only two movements; 
 some have three, some have four. One of Schumann's Symphonies 
 contains five movements and Rubinstein's Ocean Symphony seven! 
 When we reach the modern school, we shall see further freedom as to 
 number, order and type of movements. 
 
 We are now prepared to sum up the essential characteristics of 
 the Sonata-Form; for there is no structure in which it is more im- 
 portant for the music-lover to acquire the art of hstening easily, 
 naturally and with a minimum of friction. The Sonata-Form is the 
 instrumental form "par excellence" — the Gothic Cathedral^ of 
 music — and has retained its place, not because of any slavish regard 
 for form as such, but because it has been worked out, perfected and 
 utilized by the greatest of the composers. Any form with a beginning, 
 a middle and an ending, i.e., presenting material worthy of considera- 
 tion, which allows this material to grow and realize its inherent possi- 
 biUties and then sums the matter up in a convincing, objective close; 
 which, furthermore, exemplifies the great principle of Duality, i. e., 
 reveals two musical personalities, has as little need for argumentative 
 sanction as a tree or a human being. The Sonata-Form — often, 
 to be sure, with free modifications — predominates in all the large 
 instrumental compositions of the Classic, Romantic and Modern 
 Composers, notably of such men as Beethoven, Schumann, Brahms, 
 C4sar Franck, Tchaikowsky, d'Indy and Sibelius. Anyone unable 
 readily to follow movements in this form, if he thinks he is receiving 
 the complete message of the music, is his own dupe. It would be as 
 logical to expect to enjoy the beauties of architecture without per- 
 ceiving the difference between a nave and a bowling-aUey. The 
 obvious way to understand the meaning of a language is to know 
 something of the principles of structure and expression in that lan- 
 guage. Music is in very truth a language; and far too many people 
 get from it nothing save the appeal which comes from its emotional 
 power. This exciting experience is important, we may frankly ac- 
 knowledge, but there are no reasons, save apathy and indifference, 
 
 1 See the eloquent comments on this analogy by d'Indy in his Course in Com- 
 position. Vol. II, Chap. S. 
 
96 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 why the hearer should not have all this and more too. There is no 
 conflict between warm emotions and an intelligent, well-trained mind. 
 They should go hand in hand; and in any complete artistic apprecia- 
 tion each is indispensable.^ 
 
 The three main divisions of the Sonata-Form, with their essential 
 features, are the following: (1) the Exposition, in which two themes 
 in different tonalities are announced for the consideration — and, 
 as the composer hopes, the pleasure — of the hearer. In the works 
 of Haydn and Mozart this contrast of key was generally that of Tonic 
 and Dominant, e. g., C major and G major, or of major and relative 
 minor, e. g., A-flat major and F minor. Beginning, however, with 
 Beethoven great emphasis has been laid on Tnediant relationship, e. g., 
 C major and E major or C major and A-flat major; and in modern 
 composers^ this more stimulating change has largely superseded the 
 former tonic and dominant grouping, e. g., Brahms's Third Symphony. 
 We thus see that the harmonic feature of the Exposition is Duality 
 of Key-relationship. Between these two main themes there is always 
 a modulatory connection or Bridge Passage which, in the time of 
 Haydn, was generally of a very perfunctory, stereotyped character. 
 Wagner once sarcastically remarked that Haydn's transitions re- 
 minded him of the clatter of dishes between courses at a royal feast. 
 In Mozart we find the bridge-passage more deftly planned, more 
 organically connected with what precedes and follows; but it was 
 Beethoven who, in this portion of the movement, first revealed its 
 possibilities. Throughout his works the bridge-passage is never a 
 mere mechanical modulation or a floundering about until the intro- 
 duction of the second theme, but is so conceived that the interest 
 of the hearer is increasingly aroused until, at the entrance of the sec- 
 ond theme, he is in the highest state of expectancy.* A bridge-pas- 
 sage of this kind often has a subsidary theme of its own, or even several 
 melodic phrases, and is planned as carefully as the action by which 
 a dramatist leads up to the entrance of his heroine. After the second 
 
 ' " Art is not more a riot of the passions than it is a debauch of the senses; it 
 contains, no doubt, sensuous and emotional elements, the importance of which 
 there is no need to undervalue, but it is only artistic if it subordinate them to the 
 paramount claims of reason." W. H. Hadow, Studies in Modem MuHc (second 
 series) preface. 
 
 ^ Some composers have also experimented with still freer key-relationships. 
 
 " For striking examples see the Expositions of the first movements of 
 Beethoven's Third Symphony and of Tchaikowsky's Sixth Symphony. 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 97 
 
 theme we generally find a closing theme to round out the Exposition 
 as a whole. This practice dates from Haydn and has been much ex- 
 panded by modern composers. Witness the glorious climactic effect 
 in Cesar Franck's Symphony and in Brahms's D major SyTiiphony of 
 the closing themes in the Expositions of the first movements. For 
 many years it was the invariable custom to repeat the Exposition, 
 and in Classic Symphonies we always find a double bar with marks 
 of repeat and two endings. This practice was not an integral part of 
 the form but was adopted so that the hearer, by going over the themes 
 of the Exposition twice, might follow more intelHgently their growth 
 in the Development. With the advance in public appreciation this 
 repeating of the Exposition has been largely abandoned; for there is 
 no doubt that to begin all over again, when a certain objective point 
 has been reached, breaks the continuous flow of the movement.^ 
 
 (2) The Development, for which the Germans have the happy 
 name of "Freie Phantasie," or free phantasy; the composer thus 
 giving rein to his imagination and doing whatever he pleases, so long 
 as he holds the interest of his hearers and neither becomes verbose 
 nor indulges in mere mechanical manipulation. There are, alas! 
 developments in which the composer exhausts his themes and his 
 hearers too;^ but on work of this kind, since it is not real development 
 but labored jugglery, no powder need be wasted. Beethoven began the 
 practice, in his Developments, of not confining himself to the themes 
 of the Exposition but of introducing an entirely new theme, whenever 
 the main material had fulfilled its purpose. The single most exciting 
 factor in a good development is the freedom and wealth of modulation 
 revealed by the daring genius of the creator; the effect being Plurality 
 of Key-relationship, in distinction from the two closely related keys 
 of the Exposition. It would often seem as if we were taken up into 
 high mountains or borne away to distant seas. For illustrations of 
 this "free phantasy" note the end of the Development in the first 
 movement of Beethoven's Second Symphony where, after great stress 
 has been laid in the Exposition on the two basic keys of D major and 
 A major, we are left in the distant tonality of C-sharp major and are 
 then whirled back, by a dramatic change, into the home-key 
 
 1 The ultra-conservative attitude of Brahms is shown by his retention of the 
 double bar and repeat, although this is often ignored by modern conductors. 
 
 * It was probably a development of this kind which called forth the character- 
 istic comment from D«bussy who once remarked to a friend at a concert, " Let ur 
 flee ! he is going to develop.'' 
 
98 MUSIC: AN ART AM) A LANGUAGE 
 
 of the third part. One of the most interesting studies in the work- 
 ings of a great mind is to observe how Beethoven, in his developments, 
 allows the excitement to subside and yet never entirely die out, and 
 how deftly he leads the hearer onward to the summing up of the main 
 themes of the exposition. 
 
 (3) The Recapitulation or Resum6, in which both the themes 
 of the Exposition are reasserted, each in the home key — a strong 
 final emphasis thus being laid on Unity of Tonality. The bridge- 
 passage has to be correspondingly changed, for now the modula- 
 tion is between two themes both in the same key. To achieve 
 such a modulation is quite a "tour de force" as every musician 
 knows, and often taxed the ingenuity even of the great Beethoven. 
 The skill by which he always made the second theme sound fresh and 
 vital is astounding. For a case of "academic fumbKng" — mere 
 treading of water — in this adjustment of key relationship, see the 
 Recapitulation of the first movement of Brahms's Second Symphony. 
 To secure unbroken continuity and to avoid vain repetitions* there 
 is no portion of the Sonata-Form which has been more modified by 
 the inventive genius of modern composers and by the tendency ex- 
 emplified in the Symphonic Poem (to be explained in due season). 
 The general validity of Restatement, as shown in the Recapitulation 
 of the Sonata-Form, cannot be questioned; for that depends, as so 
 often pointed out, upon the human craving to enjoy once more, after 
 intervening contrast, sotnething which has originally given pleasure. 
 Furthermore this sound psychological principle finds an analogy in 
 our own life : with its early years of striving, its middle period of de- 
 velopment and its closing years of climactic retrospect and satisfaction. 
 There is a corresponding structural treatment in the dinoument of 
 a drama. In the classic composers, the Recapitulation is almost al- 
 ways a hteral repetition of the Exposition, although Beethoven be- 
 gan to be freer, e. g., in the cUmax of the Coriolanus overtiu-e, where 
 he modifies the form to meet the dramatic needs of the subject.* Mod- 
 ern composers, however, have felt that much of this repetition was 
 superfluous; and when they do repeat both themes, one or the other is 
 freely varied and made still more eloquent. For examples, see the re- 
 sum6 of the first movements of Franck's Symphony, of Brahms's First 
 
 ' See Grdtiy's amusing comments on the Sonata-Fonn cited by Romain RoIIand 
 
 in the essays Musicians of Former Days, 
 
 ' See also Wagner's comments on the Third Leonora Overture, cited by Ernest 
 Newman in his Musical Studies, pp. 134-13S. 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 99 
 
 Symphony and of Tchaikowsky's Sixth. The Recapitulation is often 
 abridged by omitting the first theme altogether and dwelling ex- 
 clusively on the second; as for example, in the Finale of Schumann's 
 Fourth Symphony and in Sinigaglia's Overture, Le Baruffe Chiozzotte.^ 
 
 It remains to speak of the beginning and end of the Sonata-Form. 
 With Haydn it became the custom, not necessarily invariable, to 
 introduce the body of the movement by a Prelude which, in early days, 
 was of slight texture and import — often a mere preliminary "flour- 
 ish of trumpets," a presenting of arms. In Mozart we find some ex- 
 amples of more artistic treatment, notably in the Overture to the 
 Magic Flute and in the prelude to the C major Quartet with its stim- 
 ulating dissonances. But in this case, as in so many others, it was 
 Beethoven who first showed what a Prelude should be: a subtle means 
 of arousing the interest and expectancy of the hearer; the eflfect as 
 carefully planned as the portico leading to a temple. To usher in 
 the theme of the Exposition in a truly exciting manner every means 
 of modulation and rhythm is employed; famous illustrations being 
 the introductions to the first movements of the Second, Fourth and 
 Seventh symphonies; and, in modern literature, those of the first 
 movements of Brahms's First Symphony and of Tchaikowsky's Fifth. 
 It also became customary to prolong the end of the movement by 
 what is termed a Coda; the same tendency being operative that is 
 found in the peroration to a speech or in the spire of a cathedral, i. e., 
 the human instinct to end whatever we attempt as impressively and 
 coinpletely as possible. This Coda, which, in Haydn and Mozart, 
 was often a mere iteration of trite chords — a ceasing to go — was 
 so expanded by Beethoven that it was the real glory of the whole 
 movement. In fact so many eloquent treatments of the main mate- 
 rial were reserved for the Coda that it often became a second develop- 
 ment; and such was its scope that the form may be considered to 
 have /owr parts instead of three, i.e., 1, Exposition, 2, Development, 
 3, Recapitulation, 4, Coda; parts 4 and 2 balancing each other in the 
 same way as 3 and 1. For two of the. most famous examples in all 
 Beethoven literature see the Codas to the First movement of the 
 Third Symphony and to the Finale of the Eighth. 
 
 We now present a tabular view of the Sonata-Form summing up 
 the features just commented upon. 
 
 ' Additional illustrations of this treatment may be found in Chabrier's Over- 
 ture to Gwendoline and in the first movement of F. S. Converse's Strinff Quartet. 
 
100 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 THE SONATA-FORM OR FIRST-MOVEMENT FORM 
 
 A 
 
 B 
 
 A' 
 
 Exposition 
 
 Development 
 
 Recapitulation 
 
 Introduction (optional) 
 
 Free treatment and expan- 
 
 First Theme, connecting 
 
 First Theme 
 
 sion, especially modula- 
 
 passage leading to 
 
 Modulatory bridge-passage 
 
 tory and rhythmic, of 
 
 Second Theme (often in 
 
 Second Theme 
 
 the themes already pre- 
 
 home-key ,but not always) 
 
 Closing Theme 
 
 sented 
 
 Closing Theme 
 
 (Duality of Key-relation- 
 
 Sometimes new material in- 
 
 Coda 
 
 ship) 
 
 troduced 
 
 (Special stress laid on the 
 
 
 (Plurality of Key) 
 
 main tonality. Unity of 
 Key) 
 
 For actual musical examples it seems best to begin with the works 
 of Haydn. This exclusion of Philip Emmanuel Bach is not meant 
 to minimize what we owe him for his preliminary efforts in formulat- 
 ing the tripartite Sonata structure, with its two themes and its De- 
 velopment portion. Haydn is on record as saying that it was his 
 study of six Sonatas of Emmanuel Bach which laid the foundations 
 for his own instrumental style. But on the whole, the compositions 
 of Emmanuel Bach are of interest rather from a historical point of 
 view than from one purely artistic. The object of this book, further- 
 more, is not to give a complete account of the evolution' of the So- 
 nata-Form; but, accepting the existence of standard works which em- 
 ploy this form, to enable the student to gain a more complete appre- 
 ciation of those works. P. E. Bach wrote in the so-called "galant 
 style"^ of the period which has, for our modern ears, too much em- 
 bellishment and too many meaningless, rhapsodic passages. He 
 made a sincere effort to invent pure instrimiental melody, i. e., musi- 
 cal expression suited to various instruments that should be unham- 
 pered by the too definite balanceof thedanceformSjby polyphonic com- 
 plexities or by the conventional artifices of operatic style. But 
 though he wrote skillfully for his instrument and though his style 
 has a certain quaint charm, on the whole it is lacking in genuine mel- 
 odic warmth and feeling. These qualities alone keep works im- 
 mortal.* 
 
 ' Those interested in this development should consult The Pianoforte Sonata by 
 J. S. Shedlock, and above all, d'Indy's Course of Musical Composition, Part III. 
 
 ' This, according to d'Indy, was so-called because pleasing to the ladies who 
 played an important part in the elaborate court ceremonial of that day. 
 
 ' Six of P. E. Bach's Sonatas edited by von Btilow are readily accessible and 
 some excellent comments upon the most significant ones may be foiud in Shedlock 
 (see above). 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS FOUNDERS 101 
 
 In Josef Haydn (1732-1809) we are face to face with a musician 
 of a different type. Haydn is popularly known as the father of the 
 Sonata, the Symphony and the String-Quartet; but, according to 
 Edward Dickinson,^ this estimate is something of an exaggeration, 
 for "it overlooks the fact that a large number of composers were 
 struggling with the same problem and working along similar lines. 
 Haydn was simply the greatest in genius of the instrumental writers 
 of his day. His works have lived by virtue of the superiority, i. e., 
 the greater spontaneity and vitality, of their contents. He should 
 be called the 'foster-father,' rather than the father of the symphony 
 and quartet for he raised them from feebleness to strength and author- 
 ity." To him must be given the honor of estabhshing the types of 
 instrumental composition which became the foundations of modern 
 music. Haydn, moreover, was the first musician since Sebastian 
 Bach who had a real personality which may be felt in his works. To 
 speak of a piece of music as "Haydnish" conveys as distinct a mean- 
 ing as to refer to a poetic stanza as "Miltonic." When Haydn ar- 
 rived on the scene, music — through the labors of many earnest 
 workers — had become a language of definite expression, with a 
 logical grammar and with principles of structure. The time was ripe 
 for the use of this language in a more artistic way,i. e., fora more in- 
 tense personal expression and for more subtle treatment of the ma- 
 terial. The composer could count upon the public following his 
 points; and with Haydn, whose heart beat in sympathy with the 
 common people, music begins to be a truly popular art. 
 
 The striking features in Haydn's works are three: (1) The wealth 
 of spontaneous and sparkling melodies, for he was born with this 
 lyric gift and never had to cudgel his wits for a tune. That instru- 
 mental melody could make such sudden progress as we find between 
 the dryness of Emmanuel Bach and the freshness of Haydn, was 
 long a puzzle to scholars, and only recently has the proof been sub- 
 mitted that Haydn was largely of Croatian ancestry. Now the 
 Croatians of Southern Austria are one of the most musical races in 
 the world, with a wealth of folk-songs and dances. Haydn therefore 
 did not have to "invent" melodies in the ordinary sense of the term; 
 they were his birthright. Many of his melodies are adaptations 
 of actual folk-songs^ or original melodies coming from an imagination 
 
 1 See his Study of the History of Music, p. 1S4. 
 
 ' See for example the Salomon Symphony in E-flat, every moTement of which 
 is founded on a Croatian folk-song. 
 
102 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 saturated with the folk-song spirit.^ For this reason they seem like 
 wild flowers in their perennial freshness and charm. (2) The pre- 
 cision and clarity with which his ideas are presented. These quali- 
 ties were due to his well-balanced and logical intellect that impressed 
 everyone with whom he came in contact. His style, moreover, was 
 the result of indefatigable labor, for he was largely self-taught. If 
 the balance of his phrases and the general symmetry of his style 
 seem to our modern taste a bit excessive, we must remember that he 
 was a pioneer and could run no risks in the way of non-acceptance 
 of his message through puzzUng complexities. Everything must 
 be so clear that the ordinary mind could at once accept it. Nor is 
 the "sing-song," "square-toed" element so prevalent in Haydn as is 
 commonly supposed. In his melody a distinct feature — no doubt 
 of racial origin — is his fondness for odd rhythms of three, five and 
 seven measures, of which examples abound in the Quartets. In his 
 Minuets and Finales there is a rollicking eflfect of high spirits which 
 could never have been attained by mere labored pedantry. In his 
 mature works we find a pervading spontaneity which is one of the 
 outstanding examples in aU literature of "art concealing art." Never 
 do these works smell of the lamp, and let us remember it is far easier 
 to criticize them than to create them.^ 
 
 (3) The skillful and eloquent manner in which Haydn adapted 
 his ideas to his favorite media of expression: the orchestra and the 
 string-quartet. Although he wrote a number of pianoforte sonatas, 
 these works, on the whole, do not represent his best thought. For 
 they were composed in the transitional period between the waning 
 influence of the harpsichord and the advent of the pianoforte, not 
 yet come to its own. But as for the orchestra, Haydn estabUshed* 
 the grouping of the three so-called choirs of strings, wood-wind and 
 brass; to which were gradually added the instruments of percussion. 
 In his works we begin to enjoy orchestral effect for its own sake: the 
 dashing vivacity of the strings, the mellowness of the wood-wind, 
 
 * For a comprehensive account of this whole subject consult the Oxford History 
 of Music, Vol. V, Chapter VIII, and Mason's Beethoven and His Forerunners, 
 essay on Haydn. 
 
 ' Witness for example, the attitude taken by Wallace in his Threshold of 
 Music, pp. 148-153. 
 
 ' For the early and significant achievements in orchestral effect of the Mann- 
 heim Orchestra under its famous leader Stamitz, see The Art of Music, Vol. 8 
 Chapter II. 
 
THE SONATA-FOKM AND ITS FOUNDERS 103 
 
 the sonority and grandeur of the brass. Instrumental works had 
 formerly been composed in black and white, but now we have the 
 interplay of orchestral colors. No less paramount was Haydn's 
 influence in the handling of the four solo instruments known as the 
 String Quartet. In his Quartets the voices are so highly individual- 
 ized that it seems as if four inteUigent and witty persons were holding 
 a musical conversation. Such melodic and rhythmic freedom were 
 hitherto unknown and his style became the point of departure for 
 modern practice.^ Both Mozart and Beethoven, those great masters 
 of the String-Quartet, acknowledged their debt of gratitude to Haydn. 
 His success in estabhshing the formation of the orchestra and the 
 string-quartet was chiefly due to the inestimable advantage he en- 
 joyed of being, for so many years, chapel-master to those celebrated 
 patrons of music the Princes Paul and Nicholas Esterhazy, at whose 
 country-seat of Esterhaz he had at his disposal, for free experimenta- 
 tion, a fine body of players.^ Here Haydn worked from 1762 until 
 1790; and, to quote his own words, "could, as conductor of an orches- 
 tra, make experiments, observe what produced an effect and be as 
 bold as I pleased. I was cut off from the world, there was no one 
 to confuse or torment me and I was forced to become original."* 
 As to the formal side of Haydn's work, he is responsible for several 
 distinct improvements. The different divisions of the movement are 
 more clearly defined — sometimes perhaps, as we look back, a bit 
 rigidly — but no more so than was necessary for a public just begin- 
 ning to follow easily the main outlines of the form. Haydn leads up 
 to his objective points in a clear-cut, logical way and there is httle 
 of "running off into the sand" or of those otherwise aimless passages 
 so prevalent in Emmanuel Bach. In his best works, notably in many 
 of the Quartets, there is also more individuality secured for the sec- 
 ond theme;* although for highly personified and moving second themes 
 we have to await the greater genius of Mozart and Beethoven. 
 
 ' For interesting comments on the String Quartets see Hadden's lAfe of Haydn, 
 pp. 174-17S. 
 
 ' The Oxford Hixtory of Music, Vol. V, Chapter I, and The Present State of 
 Music in Oennany by Bumey present a vivid picture of the times and of the 
 results of 18th century patronage. 
 
 ' For an entertaining account of the two London visits, which took place during 
 the latter part of his career, see the essay Haydn in London by Krehbiel in his 
 Music and Manners. 
 
 * In many cases Haydn's second theme is merely a varied version of the first. 
 
104 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Whenever we are inclined to call Haydn's style old-fashioned we 
 must remember that he wrote before the note of intense personal 
 expression — the so-called subjective element, prominent in 
 Beethoven — had come to the fore. The time just prior to Haydn 
 had been called the "Pig-tail period" (Zopf-Periode) in reference to 
 the stiff and precise dress and manners which had their counterpart 
 in formaUty of artistic expression. Only towards the end of his ca- 
 reer do we feel that breath of freedom in life and art which was gen- 
 erated by the French Revolution (beginning in 1791) and by the 
 many political and social changes of that stirring period. From 
 Haydn on, much more attention should be paid to the content and 
 meaning of the music than to the formal handling of the material. 
 In all worthy music, in fact, the chief point of interest is the music 
 itself which speaks to us in its own language of sound and rhythm. 
 A knowledge of form is but a means to an end: for the composer, 
 that he may exprep himself clearly and convincingly, and for the 
 listener, that he may readily receive the message set forth. In 
 Haydn's music we find the expression of a real personality — though 
 of an artless, child-like type, without great depth of emotion or the 
 tragic intensity of a Beethoven. Haydn was not a philosopher, or 
 a man of broad vision. During his epoch, artists hardly dared to be 
 introspective. His imagination gave birth to music, simple though 
 it was, as freely as the earth puts forth flowers; but, although he 
 wore a wig, he had a heart which was in good working operation even 
 in his sixty-fourth year when, during his London visit, he fell in love 
 with a charming widow, Madame Schroeter, whom he would have 
 married had not his wife been still alive. 
 
 We should acquire the catholic taste to enjoy every composer for 
 what he really was and not criticise him for what he was not — a 
 state which would imply necessarily different conditions. In criticism 
 there is no worse error, or one more often made, than that of blaming 
 Haydn because he was not Beethoven; or, in our times, Tchaikowsky 
 because his music does not resemble that of Brahms. Blase pedants 
 often call Haydn's music "tame"; we might as well apply that adjec- 
 tive to the antics of a, sportive kitten. As for the "amiable prattle" 
 of his style we do not speak in a derogatory way of the fresh, inno- 
 cent voices of children, though we need not listen to them continually. 
 Haydn, in short, is Haydn,^ and the vitality and sincerity of his 
 
 ' Haydn's life is of great interest in showing the traits which are reflected in 
 his music. Everyone should read the biography in Grove's Dictionary, Vol. II, 
 p. 348, and the excellent life by M. Brenst in Les Mattres de la Musique. 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AIJD ITS FOUNDERS 105 
 
 works will always keep them immortal. In these feverish days we 
 may dwell upon the simpUcity of "Papa Haydn," as he was aflEec- 
 tionately called; who would kneel down before beginning work, and 
 who inscribed his scores "In nomine Domini." His modest estimate 
 of his own powers cannot fail to touch our hearts. "I know," he 
 said, "that God has bestowed a talent upon me, and I thank him for 
 it. I think I have done my duty, and been of use in my generation 
 by my works; let others do the same." 
 
 We shall now make a few comments on the illustrations in the 
 Supplement (see Exs. No. 41 and 42) : the Finale of the Sonata for 
 Pianoforte in E-flat major and the first movement of the so-called 
 Surprise Symphony in G major. Haydn, of all composers, needs little 
 verbal elucidation; his music speaks for itseK and everyone must be 
 sensitive to its vitality and charm. We regret that it is not practical 
 to give examples from the Quartets which, in many respects — espe- 
 cially in the Minuets with their inexhaustible invention'^ and their 
 bubbhng spirits — represent Haydn at his best. But the real effect 
 of his Quartets is so bound up with idomatic treatment of the strings 
 that in any transcription for pianoforte the music suffers grievously. 
 It is through the score, however, that everyone should become famil- 
 iar, with the contents of the Quartets in C major, op. 76, and D major, 
 op. 64; the Finale of the latter being one of the supreme examples 
 in all chamber literature^ of rhythmic vitality. 
 
 The Finale of the E-flat sonata, in strict Sonata-form, begins with 
 a lively eight-measure phrase which is at once repeated a tone 
 higher. The extension of the sentence shows Haydn's freedom in 
 phraseology; for, beginning with measure 17, we should have to count 
 the measures 1, 2, 3, 3a, 4, 5, 6, 6a, 7, 7a, 8, 8a. In the second theme, 
 which begins in the 46th measure, note the piquant dissonances' 
 coupled with sf orzando accents. Haydn surely hked spice as well as 
 anyone! The rest of the Exposition is taken up with closing passages 
 which accentuate the tonality of the second theme — B-flat major. 
 
 ' Haydn himself used to speak of his melodic invention as " a stream which 
 bursts forth from an overflowing reservoir." 
 
 ' In every large city there are, of course, frequent opportunities to hear the 
 Quartets of Haydn played by such famous organizations as the Flonzaley Quartet 
 etc. The student is urged to take advantage of these occassions. 
 
 ' Those who erroneously think that there is nothing of the dissonant element in 
 Haydn should examine the Prelude to The Creation — a real anticipation, in its use 
 of tiie chromatic element, of Tristan and Isolde. 
 
106 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The Development needs no comment, as the correspondence between 
 the original material and Haydn's treatment is perfectly clear. The 
 Recapitulation is a literal repetition of the Exposition, with the two 
 themes as usual in the tonic key. The movement may be considered 
 an example of Sonata-form in its clearest manifestation, hence an 
 excellent one for preliminary analytical study. 
 
 In the first movement of the Surprise Symphony, before the body 
 of the work begins, we have an early example of the Prelude. This 
 slow Prelude, short though it be, is most carefully planned; with its 
 crescendo from pp to a sf forte and its free modulation it arouses a 
 genuine feeling of expectancy. The first theme of the Exposition 
 (Vivace Assai) is a happy illustration of Haydn's sparkUng rhythm, 
 and as tossed off by the violins is of irresistible gaiety. The reader 
 is asked to remember that the comments on this symphony — and 
 on aU subsequent symphonic works — are based upon the orchestral 
 score; also that the composition, when separated from its orchestral 
 dress, necessarily loses much of its real eloquence. Thus the first 
 theme, of a folk-dance character, is a typical violin melody; only 
 strings — • with their incisiveness and power of subtle phrasing — can 
 fully express its piquancy. For private study or for class-room work, 
 a practical version is that for four hands; or better stiU, when possible, 
 the arrangement for two pianofortes.^ The second phrase of the 
 first theme is considerably expanded by repetition, as if unable to 
 stop from sheer exuberance, but finally reaches a cadence in the domi- 
 nant key in the 14th measure. We are at once taken back, however, 
 to the home-key of G major; and, in measure 22, the first theme is 
 repeated, this time delicately embellished with phrases on the flute. 
 From now on, by reason of the emphasis laid on the key of D major, 
 it is evident that we are in the transitional passage and are heading 
 towards the announcement of the second theme. It must be said 
 that Haydn does not drive very straight at his mark; though it is a 
 pleasant touch of variety in measures 37-39 to introduce the main 
 theme in the minor mode, and though the fiery viohn passages in the 
 following measures give an air of considerable excitement. What 
 stands for the second theme begins in measure 49. This portion of 
 the movement has no theme with genuine individuahty, but consists 
 
 ' All symphonic scores give a much better effect when performed on two 
 pianofortes than in a four-hand arrangement for a single instrument. The freedom 
 in control of both pedals possessed by each player secures a greater richness and 
 sonority of tone and it is much easier to make prominent voices stand out in relief. 
 
THE SONATA-FORM AND ITS l-'OUXDERS 
 
 107 
 
 of running passages — based exclusively on tonic and dominant har- 
 monies in the new key, and of little import save one of general vivac- 
 ity. It is, however, decidedly aUve — not stagnant or flabby — and 
 in the orchestra it aU "comes off." We are rewarded, finally, by a 
 clear-cut closing theme of jaunty rhythm, e. g.. 
 
 f) grazioso 
 
 -<Wt h ^- h ^ -1 — 
 
 EE 
 
 ~etc. 
 
 which Haydn Uked so much that it is presented twice, the second 
 time slightly embellished. The Exposition closes with the conven- 
 tional insistence upon a strong cadence in the key of the second theme. 
 The Development begins with some rather fragmentary treatment 
 of the first theme; then, after some fugitive modulation into flat keys, 
 contents itself with running passages and a series of iterated notes. 
 Of organic and sustained development, such as Haydn indeed some- 
 times attained, there is httle trace. Even so we must be chary of 
 sweeping condemnation; for there are well-planned dynamic con- 
 trasts and the instruments are used in such a natural way — especially 
 the figure in the double basses (measures 131-135) — that the scene 
 is one of animation, though perhaps no more than one of aimless gam- 
 bols. There is sufficient modulation, so that the principle of Plural- 
 ity of key is carried out. We are suddenly but gracefully led back, 
 in measure 137, to the repetition of the first theme, thus beginning 
 the Recapitulation. This portion, with certain abbreviations, is 
 an almost exact duplication of the first part and emphasizes the main 
 tonaUty of G major. That Haydn was not forced to this Uteral re- 
 petition through any lack of fancy is shown by the skilful amplification of 
 the first theme, in measures 178-18T. The whole movement sparkles 
 with sunshine; and those ponderous "heavy-weights " who criti- 
 cise it because it is not deep or "soulful " are looking for quahties 
 which the music does not pretend to contain. It is the work of a 
 wholesome, cheerful-hearted man expressing through his favorite 
 language his joy in life. In listening to the music we have the same 
 delight as in wandering by the side of a rippling brook. The three 
 
108 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 remaining movements of the Symphony require little comment; being 
 readily accessible they are not given in the Supplement. The second 
 movement, a set of stereotyped variations, contains the explosive 
 chord which gave to the work its descriptive title. Needless to say 
 that this chord does not "surprise" our modern ears to any great ex- 
 tent. The Minuet is one of Haydn's best — full of queer antics in 
 rhythm and modulation. The Finale (Allegro di molto), in the Rondo 
 Sonata form, is the acme of Haydn's vivacity and is a "tour de force" 
 of brilliant writing for the strings. In many passages they seem 
 fairiy to burn. 
 
 Haydn's position in the development of music is of the first im- 
 portance. Whatever his works may ' 'mean, ' ' they contain a rhythmic 
 vitality which will keep them alive for ever, and their "child-like cheer- 
 fulness and droUery" will charm away care and sorrow as long as the 
 world shall last. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MOZART. THE PERFECTION OF CLASSIC STRUCTURE 
 AND STYLE 
 
 A LTHOUGH Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeusi (1756-1791), was, in 
 ■^ *■ regard to art problems, no more of a broad thinker than Haydn 
 (Mozart and Schubert being pre-eminently men whose whole nature 
 centered in music), yet on hearing his works we are aware that aspects 
 of form and content have certainly changed for the better. In the 
 first place he was more highly gifted than Haydn; he had from his in- 
 fancy the advantage of a broad cosmopolitan experience, and he was 
 dimly conscious of the expanding possibilities of musical expression. 
 It is a perfectly fair distinction to consider Haydn an able, even bril- 
 liant prose-writer, and Mozart a poet. Haydn we can account for, but 
 Mozart is the genius "born, not made" — defying classification — and 
 his inspired works seem to fall straight from the blue of Heaven. 
 Whereas Haydn, Beethoven and Schubert were all of very lowly 
 
 ' Amadeua (the beloved of God). 
 
MOZAET 109 
 
 parentage * (their mothers being cooks — a blessing on their heads!), 
 Mozart's father and mother were people of considerable general culti- 
 vation, and in particular the father, Leopold Mozart, was an edu- 
 cated man and somewhat of a composer himself, who since 1743 had 
 been in the service of the Archbishop of Salzburg, as director of his 
 private orchestra. An excellent violinist, he had written and pub- 
 Ushed a treatise on violin playing, which for many years was the stand- 
 ard work on the subject. Both parents were noted for their good 
 looks, were, moreover, of strong character and highly respectable in 
 every way. Among their several children two early exhibited un- 
 usual precocity — ^Maria Anna, born in 1751, and Wolfgang, still more 
 highly gifted. The stories of the boy's skill and general delicacy of 
 perception may be exaggerated, but we have sufficient valid evidence 
 to convince us that he was a phenomenon absolutely "sui generis." 
 Thus, he began to improvise between three and four, actually to com- 
 pose little pieces (which we have), when he was five, and to perform 
 in public when he was six! In that very year and continuing for 
 nineteen years (until Mozart had reached the age of twenty -five) be- 
 gan the memorable series of concert tours — eleven in all — compri- 
 sing Vienna, aU the chief cities of Italy and Germany, even Paris and 
 London. These tours the father planned and carried through with the 
 utmost solicitude and self-sacrifice — not to exploit the talented chil- 
 dren, but to give them a comprehensive education and artistic ex- 
 perience, and eventually to secure for his son some distinguished 
 post worthy his abilities. It is quite impossible to rehearse all the de- 
 tails of these trips. For one who wishes to investigate for himself 
 they truly make fascinating reading. A single incident, however, 
 will show how clearly defined were the two personalities which made 
 up the complete Mozart; and of which one or the other was in 
 the ascendant throughout his life. As a man, Mozart was Hght- 
 hearted, witty — even volatile — fond of society, dancing, and a 
 
 ' We may appropriately state that in regard to ancestry and enyironment all 
 four of the so-called Viennese masters, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert 
 are distinct refutations of the claims so persistently made by German scholars 
 that everything good in music we owe to the Teutons. Haydn was largely 
 Croation; Mozart was strongly influenced by non-Teutonic folk-music (Tyrolese 
 melodies frequently peep out in his works); Schubert's forebears came from 
 Moravia and Silesia ; and Beethoven was partly Dutch. If there be any single race 
 to which the world owes the art of music it is the Italians, for they invented moat 
 of the instruments and hinted at all the vocal and instrumental forms. We may 
 be grateful to the Germans for their persevering appropriation of what others 
 had begun ; only let them not claim all the credit. 
 
110 MUSIC: Atf ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 good time generally; not of the strongest intellectual power, judged 
 by modern standards, but, as shown by his marvellous dramatic 
 insight, by no means the debonair light-weight he is often represented. 
 Yet whenever music was under consideration he was a changed being; 
 he became instantly serious, and would suffer no disrespect to him- 
 self or to his art. During the last sad years of his career in Vienna, 
 when he was in actual want for the bare necessities of life, a pub- 
 lisher once said to him, "Write in a more popular style, or I will not 
 print a note of your music or give you a kreutzer." "Then, my good 
 sir," replied Mozart, "I have only to resign myself and die of hunger." 
 
 In Mozart's works, in distinction from the unconscious, naive 
 folk-song type of Haydn, we find highly wrought instnmiental melo- 
 dies; although such was his inborn spontaneity of expression that we 
 are never aware of the labor expended. His works are quite as clear 
 as those of Haydn, but they show a more conscious individuality of 
 style. They are not so artless, and the phraseology is more elastic — 
 less cut and dried. There is a higher imaginative vitality; trite, 
 mechanical repetitions are in general avoided, chmaxes are led up to 
 in a more subtle manner, and a great gain is made in real organic 
 development. For Mozart, as a master of polyphonic treatment, is 
 second only to Bach. The most striking single feature in his work 
 is the ceaseless flow of expressive melody, notably those wondrous 
 tunes found in his operas, such as "Voi che sapete," "Batti, batti" 
 and numerous others. He had travelled so widely, so keen was his 
 power of assimilation that his melodic style embodied and enhanced 
 the best qualities of contemporary ItaUan, French and German 
 practice. And 'yet his innate genius was of sufficient strength to 
 achieve this result without lapsing into formal eclecticism. What- 
 ever suggestions he took he made whoUy his own; and his music is 
 nothing if not individual in its inimitable charm and freshness. 
 Whereas in Haydn's music there is the fragrance of the folk-song, 
 with Mozart we have the fine flower of a broad artistic culture. In 
 his best symphonies and string quartets the art of music made a dis- 
 tinct advance and began to be capable of expressing the universal 
 emotions and aspirations of mankind. 
 
 The reactive influence — each upon the other — of Haydn (1732— 
 
 1809) and Mozart (1756-1791) is a most interesting feature of the 
 
 period.' By the time Mozart was ripe for his best work Haydn had 
 
 formulated and exemplified the main lines of instrumental structure. 
 
 ' For extended comment, see the Oxford History of Music, Vol. V, p. 246, sea. 
 
MOZART 111 
 
 From this preparatory work Mozart reaped such an advantage that 
 in his last compositions there is ^ spontaneous flowering of genius — 
 a union of individual content with perfect clarity of style — which 
 has kept them alive to this day. Haydn's last symphonies, the two 
 Salomon sets coniposed for his London tours, show in their turn 
 abundant signs of the stimulating inflence of the younger man. The 
 perennial importance of form and style cannot be better understood 
 than by recognizing the fact that both Tchaikowsky and Richard 
 Strauss, two of the most fearlessly independent of modern composers, 
 have considered Mozart as their ideal. But even if in Mozart's best 
 works we are not beyond the preponderating influence of form over 
 substance, they must be judged on their own intrinsic merits and not 
 with reference to progress made since — of which, nevertheless, they 
 were an important foundation. His technique was quite sufficient 
 to express what he had to say. We seldom feel that the contents are 
 bursting through the form, that the spirit is too great for the body. 
 Purity of conception and faultlessness of workmanship were still the 
 desiderata of music. The world had to wait for a Beethoven before 
 the hearer should be shaken out of himself by a spiritual power, of 
 which the music at best was often an inadequate expression. This 
 statement is meant to contain no disparagement. Because Beethoven 
 was more elemental we must never belittle the genius of his prede- 
 cessor. Any familiarity with Mozart's works wiU convince us of the 
 gratitude we owe him for his original harmonies, for the stimulating 
 contrapuntal texture and for the perfect finish and care for detail 
 found therein. Could we be forever content with "abstract music" 
 — that which justifies itself by a fulfilment of its own inherent laws — 
 Mozart's music would remain the acme of the art. His fame to-day 
 rests upon his string quartets, his three principal symphonies, and — 
 above aU — the operas, of which Don Giovanni and the Marriage of 
 Figaro are noted examples. For consummate character-drawing 
 (so that, as Rubinstein remarks, "Eachactingpersonagehasbecomean 
 immortal type"), for interest sustained by unflagging musical vitaUty, 
 for a combination of humor and seriousness and for ingenious and char- 
 acteristic handling of the orchestral forces, these works were un- 
 equalled until the advent of Wagner and even to-day in their own field 
 remain unsurpassed. The real charm of Mozart — that sunny radi- 
 ance, at times shot through with a haunting pathos — eludes verbal 
 description. As well attempt to put into words the fragrance and 
 charm of a violet. Hazlitt's fine phrase, apropos of performance, 
 
112 MUSIC: AN AKT AM) A LANGUAGE 
 
 says much in a few words. "Mozart's music seems to come from the 
 air and should return to it," and the ecstatic eulogy of Goethe, to 
 whom genius meant Mozart, should be familiar to all. "What else 
 is genius than that productive power through which deeds arise, 
 worthy of standing in the presence of God and of Nature, and which, 
 for this reason, bear results and are lasting? All the creations of 
 Mozart are of this class; within them there is a generative force which 
 is transplanted from age to age, and is not likely soon to be exhausted 
 or devoured." 
 
 In studying Mozart's works the special points to be noticed are 
 these: the wider sweep and freer rhythmic variety of the melodic 
 curve; the more organic fusion of the different portions of a move- 
 ment — Mozart's lines of demarcation being perfectly clear but not 
 so rigid as in Haydn; the much greater richness of the whole musical 
 fabric, due to^Mozart's marvellous skill in polyphony. The time had 
 not yet come when the composer could pique the fancy of the hearer 
 by unexpected structm-al devices or even lead him off on a false trail 
 as was so often done by Beethoven. Both Haydn and Mozart are 
 homophonic composers, i. e., the outpouring of individual melodies 
 is the chief factor in their works; but whereas in Haydn the chief 
 tune is likely to be in the upper voice, pn Mozart we find the melody 
 appearing in any one of the voices and often accompanied with fasci- 
 nating imitations. See, in corroboration, any of the first three move- 
 ments of the G minor Symphony or the slow movement of the E-flat 
 major Symphony. In the structure of music Mozart made sUght 
 changes; the forms were still fresh — having just been established 
 by Haydn — and Mozart with his genius filled them to overflowing. 
 His one important contribution to the development of instrumental 
 form was the Pianoforte Concerto; but, as a consideration of this 
 would lead us too far afield, the student is referred to the life of 
 Mozart in Grove's Dictionary and to the Oxford History, Vol. V. 
 The hteratm-e^ about Mozart and his works is voluminous. Our 
 
 1 We recommend especially the refreshing essay by Philip Hale in Famous 
 Composers and Their Works ; the chapter on Mozart in Beethoven and His Pore- 
 runners by H. G. Mason; and, as throwing light on aspects of his personality 
 which are little known, " Mozart Revealed in his Own Words " by Kerst-Krehbiel 
 (see especially the chapter on Mozart's religious nature, p. 142 and passim) ; the 
 fascinating Reminiscences of Michael Kelly, a personal friend of the composer ; and, 
 above all, the monumental life of Mozart, unhappily as yet incomplete, by 
 Wyzewa and St. Foix. The third chapter of Vol. II of The Art of Music is also 
 well worth reading ; and in Mozart's Operas, a Critical Study by E. J. Dent are 
 found valuable comments on his dramatic style, so prominent a feature in many 
 of his instrumental works. 
 
MOZART 
 
 113 
 
 chief attention nevertheless should be centered on the works 
 themselves rather than on what anyone else writes about them. 
 Certain of these criticisms, however, are so suggestive and illuminat- 
 ing that the student should become familiar with them. 
 
 As illustrations' for comment we select the F major Sonata for 
 Pianoforte, the G minor Symphony, the Magic Flute Overture for 
 Orchestra and the little known but most characteristic Adagio in B 
 minor for Pianoforte. Here again, as in the case of Haydn, we must 
 regret that it is impracticable to give examples from the chamber 
 music: the String Quartets, the Quintet in G minor or from the en- 
 trancing Clarinet Quintet. Any familiarity with Mozart's genius is 
 very incomplete which does not comprise the C major Quartet, espe- 
 cially its heavenly Andante CantabUe; likewise the E flat major Quar- 
 tet in the slow movement of which are the following poignant disso- 
 nances — a striking anticipation of Tristan and Isolde. 
 
 Andante con moto 
 
 The F major Sonata is selected to illustrate Mozart's pianoforte style 
 because it bubbles over with typical Mozartian melody and because 
 the Sonata-form is the basis of all three movements; in the first and 
 last strictly employed and in the slow movement somewhat modified. 
 
 1 The first three compositions are not given in the Supplement, because readily 
 available In several standard editions. The same recommendations, as given in 
 connection with Haydn, apply to the performance of the G minor Symphony. 
 
Ll4 MUSIC: AN AKT jVND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The structure, while just as .clear and easy to follow as that of Haydn, 
 represents an advance in the sustained interest of the transitional 
 passages and in the organic treatment of the Development — this 
 being particularly true of the Finale — the middle portion of the first 
 movement being not so significant. The Sonata, without prelude, 
 begins with a soaring, lyric melody in which the customary eight 
 measure formation is expanded to twelve measiu-es. This expansion 
 is brought about by an imitative treatment of the fifth measure and 
 is a convincing example of the flexible phraseology so prominent a 
 feature in Mozart's style. A balancing sentence of eight measures, 
 with an extended cadence, brings us to the transition which is to in- 
 troduce the second theme. Observe the increasing animation of the 
 rhythm and how the fresh entry of the second theme (in C major) is 
 enhanced by the insistence on the contrasting tonality of C minor. 
 In measure 41 there begins the second theme, a graceful melody that 
 is repeated with heightened fervour and then expanded by means of 
 various modulatory and rhythmic devices — the interest, for a num- 
 ber of measures, being in the bass. In measure 71 we have a piquant 
 closing theme which ends in the "good old way" with some rather 
 formal groups of cadential chords. The Development is short and, 
 save for the dynamic contrasts in the middle part, not of particular 
 import. But though a bit najive it is neither labored nor dull. The 
 Recapitulation with the necessary adjustments of key (both themes 
 appearing in F major) corresponds exactly to the Exposition. In 
 the opening melody of the Slow movement — a dreamy, sustained 
 Adagio — we see the beautiful use Mozart made of the "turn," e. g.. 
 
 Adagio 
 
 
 ft -= z Z ^— crts. 
 
 employing it not as meaningless embroidery or to cover up deficiencies 
 in the instrument but as an integral factor in the melodic line, thus 
 anticipating Chopin and Wagner with his "essential turn." The 
 movement is in abridged' Sonata-form, i. e., there is a regular Expo- 
 sition with two themes in the tonic and dominant and a corresponding 
 
 1 This modification became a favorite with Beethoven, notable examples being 
 the Slow movement of the Fifth Sonata, where the Development is represented by 
 a single chord; the Slow movement of the D minor Sonata, op. 31; and, above 
 all, the Allegretto Scherzando of the Eighth Symphony, where a series of con- 
 trasted accents keeps the interest alive and leads most deftly to the Recapitulation. 
 
MOZAKT 115 
 
 Recapitulation, but the Development is entirely omitted and in its 
 place we find merely two modulatory measures which take us back 
 to the third part. Such a form arose from the feeling that the Slow 
 Movement should be one of direct melodic and emotional appeal and 
 should not concern itself with protracted discussion of the material. 
 The two closing measures are of a wondrous serenity, peculiar to 
 Mozart. The Finale, Allegro assai, in complete and elaborate So- 
 nata-form, is one of superb vigor and dash, the happiest example pos- 
 sible of Mozart's "joie de vivre." It begins with a brilliant running 
 theme in free phraseology, and then, after a cadence in measure 14, 
 is at once followed by an out and out Waltz tune of a very seductive 
 swing.^ This is developed to a brilliant climax and then closes pp in 
 a delicate, wistful manner. The transition, with some canonic imita- 
 tions and stimulating sequences, leads us to the second theme at meas- 
 ure 50. This — one of Mozart's loveliest melodies — is rather ex- 
 ceptionally in the dominant minor {i. e., C minor) and with its mood 
 of pathetic reveiy affords a wonderful contrast to the headlong dash 
 of the first theme. This melody alone would prove that Mozart had 
 his moments of deep emotion. In measure 65 begins a long closing 
 portion which resumes the exuberant mood characteristic of the Ex- 
 position as a whole. The Development at first is based upon modula- 
 tory changes in the first theme; and then, towards the middle, occurs 
 a passage which seems to be a counterpart of the second theme, save 
 that it is in the major mode. We are now carried onward through a 
 series of passages, with pungent dissonances and imitative phrases, 
 to a fortissimo dominant chord; thence through a descending cadenza- 
 like passage we are whirled back to the Recapitulation. In mate- 
 rial and treatment this corresponds exactly to the Exposition and has 
 the same pianissimo ending. Such an effect was a touch of genuine 
 originality and was a delightful contrast to the conventional flourish 
 of trumpets with which the Finale of the period was expected to end. 
 Music is often most impressive when most subdued. 
 
 The G minor Symphony is universally acknowledged to be the 
 highest achievement of 18th century instrumental music and is also 
 premonitory of that subjective spirit peculiar to the 19th century. 
 It wiU remain immortal so long as human beings are capable of being 
 touched by a sincere revelation of emotion combined with a perfection 
 of utterance which seems fairly Divine. This delicate treatment and 
 
 ' In measures 20 and 21 may be found some striking syncopations — an antici' 
 pation of what now-a-days is known as " rag-time." 
 
116 
 
 MUSIC: AN ABT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 this exquisite finish are two prominent characteristics of Mozart's style. 
 Truly the Symphony is the quintessence of Mozart in terms of sound 
 and rhythm, and we need but to listen to his message and receive it 
 with grateful appreciation. The work contains the four customary 
 movements, all of them (save the three-part Minuet and Trio) in 
 complete Sonata-form. The first movement begins at once with a 
 gracefully poised theme sung by the violins, a theme which may be 
 likened in its outlines to the piuity of a Greek statue. The en- 
 trancing effect of this melody cannot be realized except on the or- 
 chestra, for it seems to float on the gently pulsating chords of the 
 violas like a beautiful flower. Everyone who hears the work is at 
 once arrested by this highly original treatment, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 Allegro molto 
 Violins I and II 
 
 a 
 
 n J n 
 
 a 
 
 1^ 
 
 ■* ^ ' d 
 
 K^S 
 
 Violas 
 
 m 
 
 ^^ 
 
 'Cblli and BA8SI 
 
 Se 
 
 p 
 
 fiij fH flij 
 
 ti I ' Un lij ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 i 
 
 ^^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 5= 
 
 The transition is short but leads us in a happy state of expectancy 
 through a change of rhythm from the graceful outlines of the first 
 theme to the vigorous phrase 
 
 i^ 
 
 ^i-f^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
MOZART 117 
 
 and by a bold run, thrice repeated, to the entrance of the second 
 theme in measure 43. This theme, in the customary relative major 
 (B-flat), illustrates Mozart's fondness for the chromatic element 
 which gives to many of his melodies such a haunting appeal. The 
 closing portion, beginning at measure 71, is an example of Mozart's 
 spontaneous skill in polyphonic writing. It is based entirely on the 
 motive of the main theme in dehghtful imitations tossed about by 
 different sections of the orchestra. The second part is a genuine 
 Development, since the musical life never flags in its contrapuntal 
 vitality; the theme appears in all parts of the texture — upper, inner 
 and lower voices — and we are carried vigorously onward by the 
 daring modulations. Just at the close of the Development we see 
 Mozart's constructive skill in the fusion of this part with the subse- 
 quent Recapitulation. A series of drifting chromatic chords in the 
 flutes and oboes, like light fleecy clouds, keeps us in a state of suspended 
 wonder when quietly there emerges the first theme and the return 
 home has begun. It is one of the truly poetic touches in musical 
 hterature and has been often imitated — especially by Tchaikowsky 
 in his Fifth and Sixth Symphonies.^ The Recapitulation corresponds 
 exactly with the Exposition, but an added pathos is given to the sec- 
 ond theme by its appearance in the tonic key of G minor. Observe 
 the impassioned intensity of the climax in measures 13-19 (counting 
 back from the end) . The mood of dreamy contemplation with which 
 the Slow Movement begins cannot be translated into words; why 
 attempt it? We have the music which, coming from the divinely 
 gifted imagination of the composer, reveals in its own language a 
 message of pathetic longing and ideal aspiration. The movement 
 is very concise but in complete Sonata-form, and with an orchestra- 
 tion felicitous in the treatment of the horns and the'wood-wind instru- 
 ments. The Minuet, noteworthy for the three-measure rhythm of 
 the opening phrase. 
 
 Allegro 2 
 
 mJlT^li~n J i fn7\r r \ t-n^ 
 
 shows clearly the new life which Mozart infused into the old form by 
 his remarkable polyphonic skill. Note at the outset of the second 
 part the vigorous effect of the theme in the bass and the frequency 
 
 > See the Waltz movement of the Fifth Symphony and the second movement of 
 the Sixth. 
 
118 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 of biting dissonances. The charming grace and simplicity of the 
 Trio are indescribable; here again we find an eloquent use of the wood- 
 wind group. The Finale, in complete Sonata-form, begins with a 
 perfectly balanced periodic theme, presented in Two-part form, i. e., 
 two sentences of eight measures, each repeated. If from our present 
 standpoint we feel that tie tone of this movement is a bit light to 
 f oUow the serious thoughts of the preceding movements, let us remem- 
 ber that it was composed when the Finale was meant merely to "top 
 oflf" a work; and that, if it radiated a general atmosphere of sunshine 
 and satisfaction, its purpose was fulfilled. For the Finale, which, 
 like the glorious splendor of an autumn day, is the crowning objective 
 towards which the other movements have been striving, we must 
 wait for Beethoven and his modern successors. In fact we may 
 express the general trend of a Haydn or a Mozart Symphony by a 
 decrescendo, thus " i. e., the real genius of the com- 
 
 poser is shown in the first three movements; whereas, beginning with 
 Beethoven, we find an organic climactic effect^ from the first movement 
 to the last, thus — ==^IIIIZII. But to carry such criticisms 
 too far is ungracious and unjust. Mozart's themes, both the first 
 and the second (beginning in measure 55), with their tripping contre- 
 dance rhythms, fill our hearts with life and carry us irresistibly on- 
 ward. And the Development has some surprises in store, for now the 
 dramatic genius of Mozart asserts itseK. Note the bold leaps and 
 daring modulations of the opening measures. Nothing trite or formal 
 here! The strong polyphonic treatment of the first theme, beginning 
 in measure 120 and sustained with unflagging energy for seventy meas- 
 ures, makes this one of the most stimulating developments in sym- 
 phonic literature, not excepting Beethoven himself. The Recapitula- 
 tion, in subject matter, is an exact duplication of the Exposition and 
 allows us to recover gradually from our excitement and to return to 
 the ordinary world of men and events. The presentation of the sec- 
 ond theme, however, shows Mozart's mastery of melodic variation. 
 The substance is the same, but the import of the melody is intensified, 
 e.g. 
 
 Exposition 
 
 i 
 
 ^^rT""f5F^tf i f=gp=F ^ 
 
 ^^=p= 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ This expanding of interest is distinctly felt in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, 
 in Brahms's First, in Tchaikowsky's Fifth and in that by Cdsar Franck. 
 
MOZART 
 
 119 
 
 
 ^fe 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 r-l rn ¥ir^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^=i: 
 
 tt 
 
 l»=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Recapitulation 
 
 
 ^ ■ In 
 
 -% — 
 
 -s ,' 
 
 ~^^ 
 
 
 
 
 h 
 
 ^ 
 
 --^ 
 
 
 
 'uPa. • 
 
 — S^ 1 
 
 -«J^«'-#J^«' — 
 
 1 ^* V^ 
 
 ' 
 
 r 
 
 -y? 
 
 sl>t 1 
 
 
 ^S-'f— »5i=^^ — 
 
 \ VtM— 
 
 H= e — 
 
 
 4 r: 
 
 — m — 
 
 1 
 
 ; 4 1 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 1 '^_!\ 1 
 
 Li 1 ! 
 
 tp 1 — k— ' 
 
 Ei 
 
 f ^- ; ^^^^^=3 
 
 j=j^=*^i*=^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 rr^-r 
 
 i 
 
 :f1: 
 
 etc. 
 
 p -^= ^ I H^ 
 
 ^ i r * r r g 
 
 -*-^- 
 
 iE 
 
 The Overtures to Mozart's three operas: The Marriage of Figaro, 
 Don Giovanni and the Magic Flute are of particular interest, not only 
 for the beauty of their contents but because they are our earUest ex- 
 amples of the Overture fashioned in complete Sonata form. Origi- 
 nally the Overture had been a prelude to the opening of a play, a pre- 
 lude of the lightest and most meagre nature. Examples, beginning 
 with Monteverde, abound in all the early Italian opera composers.* 
 LuUy of the French school and Alessandro Scarlatti of the Itahan 
 were the first to amplify these beginnings and to establish a definite 
 standard of structure. In both schools this standard represented an 
 application of the Three-part form principle; the French arranging 
 their contrasts, slow, fast, slow (the so-called French overture — of 
 which we have an example in Handel's Messiah) and the Italians, 
 fast, slow, fast (the so-called Italian Overture). Although Gluck 
 (1714-1787) did much to establish a more dramatic connection be- 
 tween the overture and the play, even the best of his Overtures, 
 Iphigeneia in Aulis, is a rather loosely expanded tripartite structure 
 with a good many meaningless passages. But Mozart, coming after 
 Haydn's definite establishment of the Sonata-form and with the grow- 
 ing interest of the pubUc in instrumental music for its own sake as an 
 
 ' For a complete account of this development see Grove's Diet. Vol. Ill under 
 Overture and the Oxford History, Vol. IV, page 286, seq. 
 
120 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 incentive, could take advantage of these circumstances to display 
 his genius and to delight his hearers with a piece of genuine music. 
 This he did and his operatic overtures are of such distinct import and 
 self-suflaciency that they are often detached from the opera itself and 
 played as concert numbers. The Magic Flute Overture is also note- 
 worthy because of the polyphonic treatment of the first theme which 
 is a definite fugal presentation in four voices. The second theme, 
 beginning in measure 64, and soon repeated, is light and winning, 
 meant to supplement raither than to contrast strongly with the first 
 theme, which indeed keeps up at the same time, in the inner voices, 
 its rhythmic impetuosity. The Exposition ends with a graceful 
 closing phrase, e. <7., 
 
 and the usual cadence in the dominant key. It is considered that the 
 Adagio chords for the trombones, interpolated between the Exposition 
 and the Development, are suggestive of the religious element in the 
 play that is to follow. The Development is remarkable for the spir- 
 ited imitative treatment of the first theme, for the bold way in which 
 the voices cut into each other and for the fusion of its closing measiu"es 
 with the Recapitulation. The chief feature in this brilliant passage 
 is a piling up of the theme in stretto form (see measures 148-153). 
 The Recapitulation is somewhat shortened and the melodic outline 
 of the second theme is slightly changed; otherwise it corresponds with 
 the Exposition. After the closing phrase we have some pungent 
 dissonances, e. g. 
 
 It 
 
 ^ 
 
 -§- 
 
 \f^ if- f " f^ f f 
 
 I 
 
 "p ¥ P r 
 
MOZART 
 
 121 
 
 Rossini, it is said, was never tired of eulogizing tliis Overture and 
 certainly for spontaneity and vigor it is unrivalled.^ 
 
 The last illustration from Mozart is his Adagio in B minor (see 
 Supplement No. 43) an independent piece, far too little known, in 
 complete Sonata-form. The haunting pathos of the theme, the ex- 
 quisite loveUness in the whole fabric instantly reach the hearer's 
 heart. Analytical comment seems quite unnecessary; a child can 
 "follow" the music, but only he with a ripe knowledge of himian life 
 can begin to fathom its deep mystery.^ When we see such modern 
 passages as the following, e. g. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 m^ 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 A 
 
 
 W 
 
 ■fip 
 
 mf p 
 
 k 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^i 
 
 ^SjM 
 
 §i 
 
 it= 
 
 ,pZTf 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 J ^ 
 
 i: 
 
 -^ 
 
 =£^ 
 
 Tchaikowsky's love for Mozart's music is readily understood. In- 
 deed, we cannot refrain from urging everyone to cultivate such a 
 love himself; for in the works of Mozart are found a purity, a sanity 
 and a delight in creation which keep them ahve and make them in 
 very truth "things of beauty and a joy forever." 
 
 ' Its companion in modem literature is the Overture to the Bartered Bride 
 (by the Bohemian composer Smetana), which also begins with a brilliant fugal 
 treatment of the theme. 
 
 ^ For some illuminating comments on this subtle character of Mozart's creations 
 see the Stanford-Forsyth History of Music, p. 2S4. 
 
122 MCJSIC: AS ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 AS Beethoven was such an intensely subjective composer, a know- 
 ledge of his personality and environment is indispensable for a 
 complete appreciation of his works.^ 
 
 Beethoven, Ludwig van (1770-1827), born at Bonn on the Rhine, 
 though his active career is associated with Vienna, may be called the 
 first thinker in music; for at last the art is brought into <?orrelation 
 with man's other powers and becomes a living reflex of the tendencies 
 and activities of the period. Notwithstanding the prodigious vital- 
 ity of Bach's work, we feel that his musical sense operated abstractly 
 hke a law of Nature and that he was an unconscious embodiment, 
 as it were, of the deep religious sentiment of his time and of the 
 sturdy independence of his race. At any period and in any place 
 Bach would have been Bach. Beethoven's music, however, in its 
 intense personality and as a vivid expression of the ideals of his 
 fellow men, was different from any the world had heard before. 
 There were three paramoimt advantages in his equipment: first, 
 Beethoven was a strong character who only happened to find in 
 music his most suitable means of self-expression. The full import 
 of his works cannot be understood unless he is recognized, great 
 creative artist that he was, as first and foremost a unique personality. 
 Had he not written a note of music we should have sufficient historical 
 evidence to assure ourselves of the vigor of his intellect and the eleva- 
 tion of his ideals. Whereas Haydn and Mozart are to be judged 
 purely as musicians, in Beethoven it is always something underlying 
 the musical symbols which claims our allegiance. Furthermore he had 
 the inestimable advantage of finding the mechanical structure of in- 
 strumental music carefully formulated by his predecessors. The stone 
 had been quarried, the rough cutting done and the blocks lay 
 ready for a genius to use in the erection of his own poetically con- 
 ceived edifice. And these forms were still fresh and vigorous; they 
 had not yet hardened into formalism. In Beethoven's works we 
 
 ' Hence is given a more extended biographical account than in the case of 
 former composers. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 123 
 
 rarely find form employed for its own sake, as a mere "tour de force" 
 of skilful workmanship, rather is it made to adapt itself to the individ- 
 ual needs of the composer. 'Finally Beethoven's career coincided 
 with momentous changes and upheavals in the social, political and 
 artistic world. He is the embodiment of that spirit of individualism, 
 of human freedom and self-respect which found its expression in the 
 French Revolution, in our American War of Independence and in the 
 entire alteration of social standards. Beethoven at aU costs resolved 
 to be himself. With him music ceases to be a mere "concourse of 
 sweet sounds" ; it was meant to bring an uplifting message to the 
 human soul, and be something more than a skilful example of abstract 
 ingenuity. These personal tendencies of Beethoven were fostered 
 by the spirit of the times, and his music became in turn a vital ex- 
 pression of revolt against existing conditions and of passionate as- 
 piration towards something better. He was the first musician to 
 free himseK from the enervating influence of having to write ex- 
 clusively for aristocratic patronage. Such was the social emancipa- 
 tion of the period that he could address himself at first hand to a 
 musical public eagerly receptive andj constantly growing. His rep- 
 resentative works could never have been composed in the time of 
 Haydn and Mozart; for though in formal structure the logical de- 
 velopment of preceding methods — Beethoven being no reckless 
 iconoclast — in individual content they reveal a freedom of utterance 
 which took its rise in tendencies hitherto unknown. Beethoven's 
 mighty personality and far-reaching influence can not be stated in 
 a few formulae. An extensive library covering his life and times is 
 accessible to the interested layman, and a thorough appreciation 
 of his masterpieces is a spiritual possession which everyone must 
 gain individually. Since Beethoven's works compel a man to think 
 for himself, the constructive power of the creator must be met with 
 an analogous activity on the part of the receptive hearer. The 
 symphonies, for example, are more than cunningly contrived works 
 of musical art; they are human documents of undying power to 
 quicken and exalt the soul which will submit itself to their influence. 
 Beethoven's great instrumental compositions are few in number in 
 comparison with the voluminous and uneven output of his predecessors. 
 Thus from Haydn we have 125 symphonies, from Mozart about 40, 
 from Beethoven 9. Of Haydn's symphonies possibly a haM dozen 
 have permanent vitaUty; of Mozart's four; of Beethoven's all, with 
 the possible exception of the experimental first. Condensation of 
 
124 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 subject matter, conciseness of style, a ceaseless exaltation of quality 
 above quantity are the prominent features in Beethoven's work. 
 All adipose tissue is relentlessly excised, and the finished creation 
 resembles a human being in perfect physical condition — the outward 
 mechanical organism subservient to the spirit within. 
 
 Beethoven's life is of supreme interest and importance, for his 
 music is the direct expression of himself, of his joys and sorrows. His 
 ancestry raises many perplexing questions as to the influence of hered- 
 ity and the sources of genius. In the first place Beethoven was not 
 a pure-blooded German, but partly Flemish on his father's side. His 
 paternal grandfather, Ludwig van^ Beethoven, was a man of strong 
 character and of a certain musical aptitude, who had migrated from 
 the neighborhood of Antwerp to Bonn where he served as court musi- 
 cian to the Elector of Cologne. The paternal grandmother early de- 
 veloped a passion for drink and ended her days confined in a convent. 
 The son of this couple, Johann (the father of the composer) was a tenor 
 singerin the court chapel at Bonn and soon became a confirmed drunk- 
 ard. He seems to be a mere intermediary between grandfather and 
 grandson. In 1767 he married a young widow, Maria Keverich, a 
 woman of warm affections and depth of sentiment, whose life was 
 bound up in the care of her gifted son. The tender love between 
 Beethoven and his mother was a bright spot in his early years, in 
 many ways so sordid and unhappy. Unfortunately she was delicate, 
 of consumptive tendencies, and died when Ludwig was but seventeen. 
 "She has been to me a good and loving mother," he writes, "and my 
 best friend." As we ponder on such facts and then consider for what 
 Beethoven stands, we can only exclaim, "God works in a mysterious 
 way, his wonders to perform." It was early seen that the young 
 Beethoven had unusual ability, and so the shiftless father, with the 
 example of Mozart's precocity before him, submitted the boy to a 
 deal of enforced drudgery in the way of harpsichord and violin prac- 
 tice. He had one good teacher however, Neefe,who records that the 
 boy of thirteen played the harpsichord with energetic skill and had 
 mastered the Preludes and Fugues of the Well-Tempered Clavichord. 
 Beethoven's general education was sadly neglected, and when he was 
 thirteen practically ceased. These deficiencies were a source of mor- 
 tification all his life. He spelled atrociously, was never sure of his 
 addition and subtraction and so was often involved in altercations 
 with landlords and washerwomen. By nature Beethoven was of 
 ' The prefix van is not a symbol of nobility. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 125 
 
 strong, eager intellect. He became an omnivorous reader, and later 
 in life acquired a working facility in Latin, French, Italian and Eng- 
 lish. The first period of his life ends with his departiu-e in 1792 for 
 Vienna, whither he was sent by the Elector to study with Haydn. 
 In siumning up its special incidents we are struck first by the vivid 
 and lasting impression which Beethoven, in spite of his lowly origin 
 and deficiencies in education and cultivation, made upon wealthy and 
 refined people of distinction, simply through his extraordinary per- 
 sonality and umnistakable sincerity. Two of these friends were the 
 von Breuning family, including the charming daughter Eleanore — one 
 of Beethoven's early loves — and the cultivated and influential Count 
 Waldstein, in whose companionship he became acquainted with the 
 German poets and with the dramas of Shakespeare. For a vivid 
 picture of these boyish years the student is recommended to the Ro- 
 mance, Jeaw Christophe (by Romain RoUand) which, though somewhat 
 idealized, is mainly on a historical basis. Two of Beethoven's most 
 unique characteristics date from this period. First, his constant habit 
 of drawing inspiration directly from Nature, of which he was a pas- 
 sionate and persistent lover. He says of himself "No one can love the 
 country as I love it. Here alone can I learn wisdom. Every tree 
 exclaims to me 'Holy, Holy, Holy.'" In long walks through wood 
 and field he would allow his thoughts to germinate, giving himself up 
 utterly to creative emotion. When in this state of mind Madame von 
 Breuning used to say that he was in his "raptus." Consequently, 
 in comparison with the works of previous composers, which often 
 have a note of primness and artificial restraint — they smell a bit of 
 the lamp and the study — those of Beethoven have the elemental 
 power of Nature herself, especially shown in the vigor and variety of 
 the rhythm. Second, he would always carry sketch books in which 
 to jot down ideas as they came to him. These he would polish and 
 improve — sometimes for years — before they took final shape. 
 Many of these sketch books^ have been preserved and edited, and 
 they illustrate, most vividly, Beethoven's method of composing: 
 slow, cautious, but invincible in its final effect; an idea frequently 
 being altered as many as twenty times. At the age of twenty-two 
 he was chiefly known as a pianist with wonderful facility in impro- 
 visation; his compositions had been insignificant. The next eight 
 years — up to 1800, when Beethoven was thirty — were spent in 
 acquainting himself with the Viennese aristocracy and in building 
 ^ See the two Beethoveniana by Nottebohm. 
 
126 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 up a public clientele. Then follows the marvellous period until 
 1815 in which his power of inspiration was at its height, and which 
 gave to the world a body of work for magnitude and variety never 
 surpassed: all the symphonies except the Ninth, the first twenty- 
 seven pianoforte Sonatas, five concertos for pianoforte and orchestra, 
 the opera of Fidelio, several Overtures, numerous string quartets and 
 ensemble chamber music. We realize even more vividly the heroic 
 and sublime character of Beethoven when we learn that, as early as 
 1798, there began the signs of that deafness which altered his whole 
 life. By nature he was hypersensitive, proud and high-strung, and 
 these qualities were so aggravated by his malady that he became 
 suspicious, at times morose, and his subsequent career was checkered 
 with the violent altercations, and equally spasmodic renewals of 
 friendship, which took place between him and his best friends. His 
 courage was extraordinary. Thus we find him writing: "Though at 
 times I shall be the most miserable of God's creatures, I will grapple 
 with Fate, it shall never pull me down." On the artistic side this 
 affiction had its compensations in that it isolated the composer from 
 outer distractions, and allowed him to lay entire stress on the spiritual 
 inner side of his art; certainly this is one of the strongest notes in his 
 music — the pure fancy manifested therein. As a deaf musician he 
 is comparable to the blind seer who penetrates more deeply into the 
 mysteries of life than those whose physical eyesight is perfect. 
 Beethoven's closing years form a period of manifold complications, 
 caused by the care of his scapegrace nephew, by his settled deafness 
 and precarious financial position. Yet he grimly continued to com- 
 pose, his last works being of titanic dimensions such as the Choral 
 symphony, the Mass in D and the last Quartets and Pianoforte 
 Sonatas. Beethoven died on March 26, 1827; nature most appro- 
 priately giving a dramatic setting to the event by a terrific storm of 
 hail and snow, lightning and thunder. It would take too long to dwell 
 on the many characteristics of the man Beethoven. Power, individ- 
 uality and sincerity were stamped upon him, and his music is just 
 what we should expect from his nature. He embodied all the long- 
 ings, the joys and sorrows of humanity, and gave them such burning 
 utterance that the world has listened ever since. 
 
 To touch now upon a few of the formal aspects of Beethoven's 
 work, as far as verbal analysis can help, it may be asserted that he is 
 the acknowledged master of the Sonata Form as Bach was of the Fugue, 
 and in his hands this form, and also the Air with Variations, were 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 127 
 
 raised to a potency the influence of which is felt even to-day. From 
 beginning to end every portion of the Sonata Form was made over 
 and vitalized. Instead of the perfunctory "flourish of trumpets" 
 which served previous composers for an introduction, this portion 
 with Beethoven deftly leads on the hearer to a contemplation of the 
 main work, and is as carefully planned as the porch of a great Cathe- 
 dral. For examples, witness the continually growing excitement 
 generated in the introductions to the Second and Seventh Symphonies, 
 the breatibless suspense of the introduction to the Fourth, and the 
 primeval, mysterious beginning of the Ninth. And then what a dif- 
 ference in the character and emotional suggestiveness of the themes, 
 that with Beethoven are actual human voices, dramatic characters, 
 which once met can never be forgotten. As Lavoix says of the Fifth 
 Symphony, "Is not this a drama iu its purity, where passion is no 
 longer the attribute of a theatrical work, but the expression of our 
 own individual feelings?" No longer are the transitions mere mechan- 
 ical connections, but a portion of the structure which, though subsidi- 
 ary, is yet organically developed from that which precedes and in- 
 evitably related to that which follows. In the development section 
 we find the real Beethoven. Here his marvellous freshness of in- 
 vention found fuU play. Such inexhaustible fancy, such coherence 
 of structure, such subtlety of transformation were unknown in former 
 times, when development was often as lifeless as the perfunctory 
 motions of an automaton. Beethoven's developments are no mere 
 juggUng with tones; they are vast tonal edifices, examples of what 
 the imagination of man controlled by intellect can achieve. Possibly 
 Beethoven's greatest s kill as a musical architect was shown in his 
 treatment of the Coda, which became the crowning climax of a move- 
 ment, a last driving home with aU possible eloquence of the message 
 heretofore presented. The end of previous compositions had too 
 often been a mere ceasing to go, a running down, but in Beethoven 
 there is usually a strong objective point towards which everything 
 converges. 
 
 Fully conscious as he was of the throbbing hmnan message it was 
 his mission to reveal, we may be sure that Beethoven spared no effort 
 to enhance the expressive capabilities of music as a language. Cer- 
 tain aspects of his style in this respect are strikingly noticeable in 
 every one of his representative works. First, the marvellous rhythmic 
 vitality. Note the absence of the former sing-song rhythm of Haydn; 
 in its stead we hear the heart-beat, now fast, now slow, of a living 
 
128 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 human being. No longer can the hearer in dreamy apathy beat time 
 with his foot. Second, his use of the fiercest dissonances to express 
 the heights and depths of our stormy human existence. In listening 
 to contemporary works nothing should persuade us more strongly 
 to a sympathetic tolerance, or at any rate to a suspension of judgment, 
 than the fact that many of Beethoven's most individual cries (surely 
 in his case the outward expression of what he heard within, those 
 very outbursts which to-day ring longest in our consciousness) were 
 considered at the time of their creation as the ravings of a mad-man. 
 Dissonances, both acoustically and psychologically, are a vital 
 principle in music. In no respect was his music more original than 
 in his Promethean boldness in their use. One of his favorite concep- 
 tions was that music should strike fire from the soul of man; it was 
 not meant to lull the hearer into a drowsy revery, but to awaken his 
 spiritual consciousness with a shock at times positively galvanic. 
 A. third feature is his subtlety in ejqjression, as is shown by the minute 
 indications in which every page of his work abounds. The crescendos, 
 often leading to a sudden drop to pianissimo, the long stretches of 
 hushed suspense, the violent sforzandos on unimportant beats, the 
 plasticity of periodic formation, all these workings of a rich imagina- 
 tion first gave music its place as the supreme art of human expression. 
 A word must be spoken concerning two forms which we owe to 
 Beethoven's constructive genius. In place of the former naive Min- 
 uet, so characteristic of the fornlal manners of its time, he substituted 
 a movement with a characteristic name — the Scherzo, which opened 
 up entirely new possibilities. No mere Uterary distinction between 
 wit and humor' can explain the power of Beethoven's Scherzos; only 
 through his own experience of life can the hearer fathom their secrets. 
 The expression of real humor, akin to that spirit which is found in 
 Cervantes, Swift, Mark Twain and Abraham Lincoln, was a genuine 
 contribution of Beethoven. Deep thinkers alone are capable of hu- 
 mor which, to quote a recent writer, is "that faculty of imagination 
 so humane and sympathetic in its nature that it can perceive at the 
 same time serious and jocose things. It can feel the pathos of a scene 
 on life's stage and yet have an eye for the incongruities of the actors. 
 It is imagination, the feel of kinship with the universal human soul." 
 Beethoven's Scherzos are as varied as life itself. Who can forget the 
 boisterous vitality of this movement in the Eroica, which quite sweeps 
 
 ' The derivation of the word is worthy of note ; it means moisture, juice, 
 something not dry. Humor is certainly the juice of human nature. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 129 
 
 US off our feet, the haunting mystery of the Scherzo of the Fifth Sym- 
 phony, or listen unmoved to the grim seriousness, alternating with 
 touching pathos, in the Scherzo of the Ninth? Secondly, his con- 
 ception of the Air and Variations was so different from anything 
 previously known that he may fairly be called its creator. With him 
 variations became poetic transformations, and the notable works in 
 this form of Brahms, Tchaikowsky, Franck and d'Indy are only freer 
 manifestations of Beethoven's method. Upon two last features, 
 his use of titles and his individualizing of the orchestral instruments, 
 we cannot dwell in detail. Although program music in its Uteral 
 sense dates back several centuries, Beethoven — far more than was 
 customary before — used external suggestions or incidents, often 
 intimate subjective experiences, as the quickening impulse to his 
 imagination. We know from his own words that, while composing, 
 he generally had some mental picture before him. Very often we are 
 not given the clue to his thoughts, but the titles, familiar to every one, 
 which he did use, such as the Heroic and Pastoral Symphonies, the 
 Coriolanus and Egmont Overtures, those to several of the Sonatas, 
 are full of import and show clearly that he was engaged in no mere 
 abstract music making for its own sake. These works are the point 
 of departure for the significant development of modern music along 
 this path. With Beethoven the orchestra began to assume its pres- 
 ent importance, and the instruments are no longer treated as mere 
 producers of sound and rhythm, but often as living beings. How 
 eloquent is the message of the Horns in the Trio to the Scherzo of the 
 Heroic! Berlioz compares the double basses in the Fifth Symphony to 
 the gambols of a sportive elephant, and instances might be multiplied. 
 But words are futile in describing the wonders of Beethoven. A 
 striking tribute is that of Professor John K. Paine. "In instrumental 
 music Beethoven is pre-eminent, from all points of view, formally, 
 aesthetically and spiritually. Like Shakespeare's, his creations are 
 distinguished by great diversity of character; each is a type by itself. 
 Beethoven is the least of a mannerist of all composers. His com- 
 positions are genuine poems, which tell their meaning to the true 
 listener clearly and unmistakably in the language of tones, a language 
 however which cannot be translated into mere words." 
 
 We are now in a position to approach intelligently, enthusiasti- 
 cally and reverently the mighty works of Beethoven which, though 
 bmlt upon the foundations of Haydn and Mozart, yet take us into 
 an entirely new world of power and fancy. For illustrations we se- 
 
130 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 lect the first movement of the Third or Heroic Symphony; the Seventh 
 Sonata in D major for Pianoforte; the Fifth Symphony in C minor 
 (entire) and the Coriolanus Overture. In regard to the symphonies 
 it is understood that the emphasis on certain ones and the omission 
 of others implies no ultra-critical attitude. Each of Beethoven's 
 symphonies has its characteristic attributes and each is the work of 
 a genius. But just as in Nature some mountains are more majestic 
 than others, so concerning the nine symphonies we may say that 
 their order of excellence as endorsed by the consensus of mankind 
 would be as f oUows. The First Symphony is somewhat experimental, 
 composed when Beethoven was working out his technique of expres- 
 sion. It is closely modeled on the style of Haydn and, though showing 
 certain daring touches and though perfectly direct and sincere, is not 
 of marked individuality. In the Second Symphony a long advance 
 is made, for we find numerous traits which are thoroughly distinctive 
 of the genius of Beethoven: the exciting Prelude to the first movement; 
 the heavenly Larghetto, one of the first slow movements of real emo- 
 tional power; the rollicking Scherzo (note the fantastic touches in the 
 Trio) and the splendor of the last pages of the Finale, which can only 
 be compared to a sunset with its slowly fading colors and its last 
 burst of glory. The general style of the Second Symphony however 
 is that of Haydn and Mozart, though raised to the highest pitch of 
 eloquence. In the Third Symphony the complete Beethoven steps 
 forth. It was his declaration of independence, and in this work, as 
 he himself said, he began a completely new Hne of activity; it was 
 also his own favorite among the symphonies.* Heretofore there had 
 been no such impassioned utterance as is revealed in the first move- 
 ment of this Third Symphony and there have been few, if any, to 
 equal it since. The Fourth Symphony is an entrancing work and 
 shows Beethoven's inexhaustible variety of mood; since, save for the 
 "grand manner" peculiar to all his works, it differs strikingly from 
 the Third and the Fifth. It was composed during the happiest period 
 of Beethoven's Hfe and is related in its whole character to his emotions 
 and aspirations at that time.^ The slow movement is the most sub- 
 lime love-song in music. The Fifth Symphony is undoubtedly the 
 most popular of them all, in the true sense of the term.^ The reason 
 
 • See Beethoven, Kerst-Krehbiel, p. iS. 
 
 ' Read the appropriate essay in Beethoven and His Nine Symphoniet by Sir 
 George Grove. 
 
 ' Vox populi, vox Dei. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE -POET 131 
 
 for this verdict is the unparalled combination in a single work of the 
 emotional intensity found in the first movement, the touching appeal 
 of the slow movement, the mystery, followed by the reckless display 
 of spirit, in the Scherzo and the paean of rejoicing which rings through 
 the Finale. The Sixth or Pastoral, Beethoven's one excursion into 
 the realm of tone-painting based on natural phenomena, is of interest 
 more as a point of departure for the work of his successors' than for 
 its intrinsic message. The conception of the possibilities of musical 
 description has so widened since Beethoven, and the facilities for 
 orchestral color so increased, that this symphony, though it has 
 many characteristic beauties, sounds a bit old-fashioned. The 
 Seventh is one of the most original of them all, incomparable for its 
 rhythmic vitality — the Apotheosis of the Dance, as Wagner called 
 it.* If rhythm be the basis of music and of life itself, this sym- 
 phony is thoroughly alive from start to finish, hence immortal. 
 The Eighth is the embodiment of Beethoven's (possibly) most 
 individual trait — his abounding humor. Never before had sym- 
 phonic music played such pranks as are found here, especially in 
 the Finale. The Symphony is in fact a prolonged Scherzo^ — the 
 third movement (a Minuetto) being merely for contrast. The Ninth 
 Symphony, composed in the philosophic period of Beethoven's life, 
 when he was attempting still greater heights, is a vast work, the first 
 three movements purely instrumental, and the Finale, for the first 
 time in symphonic literature, a union of solo voices and chorus with 
 the instrumental forces. The text was taken from Schiller's "Ode 
 to Joy." The spirit of the poem made a strong appeal to Beethoven's 
 humanitarian and democratic aspirations and there is no question 
 of the grandeur of his conception. But it is not carping criticism to 
 say that his thoughts were too heaven-soaring for a perfect realization 
 through any earthly means. Beethoven moreover was seldom happy 
 in writing for the human voice — -he thought in terms of the instru- 
 
 ' D'Indy, however, in his Beethoven (p. 61, English translation) dissents from 
 this view ; not at all convincingly, it would seem to us. For the basic rhythm of 
 each movement is on a definite dance metre and the theme of the first movement 
 is a regular Irish jig (Beethoven at one time being very much interested in Irish 
 folk-dances) with its typical three final notes, e.y. 
 
 ' It was written, to use Beethoven's own words, in an " aufgeknopft " (un- 
 buttoned) condition, i. e., free, untramelled, rather than straight-laced, swaddled 
 in conventions. 
 
132 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ments — and it is not to be denied tliat there are several passages 
 in the Finale which consist of mere boisterous shouting. No one 
 save believers in plenary inspiration can give to this Finale the whole- 
 hearted admiration that is paid to the three instrumental movements 
 which are pure gold; especially the seraphic Adagio and the Gargan- 
 tuan Scherzo with its demoniacal rhythmic energy. To sum up the 
 foregoing estimates, if the student is forced to select and cannot 
 become equally familiar with all of the nine symphonies, a reasonable 
 order of study would be the following: the Fifth, the Third, the 
 Seventh, the Eighth, the Fourth, the Ninth, the Second, the Sixth 
 and the First. See Supplement No. 44. 
 
 We shall now make a few comments^ on the first movement of the 
 Third or Heroic Symphony, merely to stimulate the hearer's interest, 
 for the music may be trusted to make its own direct appeal. After 
 two short, sonorous chords, which summon us to attention, the first 
 theme, allegro con brio, with its elemental, swinging rhythm, is 
 announced by the 'cellos. It is often glibly asserted that these 
 notes of the tonic triad are the whole of the first theme. This is a 
 great misconception, for although the motive in the first four measures 
 is the generative basis for the entire movement, the arresting, dra- 
 matic note of the theme is the C-sharp in measiu-e five. This theme 
 in fact is a typical example of Beethoven's broad sweeps of thought; 
 for prolonged with secondary melodic phrases in the first vioUns and 
 flutes, its real close does not come until the 13th measure, e. g. 
 1st Violins. 
 
 i 
 
 -f-fL 
 
 ttf 
 
 ^W 
 
 t=t 
 
 w 
 
 'Celli. 
 
 (4) 
 
 p cresc. 
 
 (5) 
 
 sf^-p 
 
 IS 
 
 s 
 
 =1= 
 
 lit 
 
 & 
 
 < g • 
 
 cresc. sf — p 
 
 ' These are based in this work and in all Symphonic compositions on the full 
 orchestral score (in the Peters edition) ; the student is therefore recommended to 
 adopt this practise. For in Beethoven and all orchestral writers the thought and 
 expression are so integrally bound up with the tone color and idiom of the various 
 instruments that when their works are reduced to another medium much of the 
 eloquence is lost. For those who cannot handle an orchestral score there are 
 adequate arrangements for 2 hands, 4 hands and for 2 pianofortes in several stand- 
 ard editions. Those who have an advanced pianoforte technique should certainly 
 become familiar with the virtuoso-transcriptions of the Beethoven Symphonies by 
 Franz Liszt. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 133 
 
 I 
 
 rLDTBS. 
 
 S= 
 
 fczt 
 
 £ 
 
 p cresc. 
 
 i 
 
 w 
 
 IE 
 
 :t:^ 
 
 -JIL- •- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ etc 
 (13) ^'"• 
 
 gM 
 
 ^ 
 
 -e-r- 
 
 ^ ^ cresc. JO 
 
 After a varied repetition of the first motive of the theme, there occurs 
 a passage (measures 23-33)* which illustrates one of the most charac- 
 teristics features in all Beethoven's work, i. e., those sharp dislocations 
 of the rhythm, indicated by the sforzando accents (s/) on beats usually 
 unaccented and often coupled with strong dissonances. Although the 
 basic rhythm is triple, the beats for several measures are in groups 
 of two quarter notes or their equivalent, one haM note, e. g. 
 
 23 
 
 i 
 
 d. — A 
 
 3!z£ia 
 
 :tfis>- 
 
 / 
 
 -l 
 
 & 
 
 P^— Kjr^ 
 
 s*=^ 
 
 ^=±J= 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ¥ 
 
 ^^3 
 
 fe§ 
 
 % 
 
 ^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 ^^=t: 
 
 '^^^ b | 7 4 ■ K? 
 
 _gz — . — W—-P- •-?- 
 
 a 
 
 f=1= 
 
 i 
 
 
 33 
 
 1^ 
 
 :?=^ 
 
 r- 
 
 -=M» fc— f=^t b ta-rt- 
 
 =^^^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 r s/ s/ s/ 
 
 i2S 
 
 
 f 
 
 Jzalt 
 
 No longer can we drift along in dreamy apathy; our vitality is quick- 
 ened as by the gusts of a tornado. There have been those who for ths 
 first time in their lives were jarred from the even tenor of their way 
 
 ' It is an excellent practise to number the measures of a score in groups of 10. 
 
134 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 by these impassioned onslaughts. When Beethoven's Symphonies 
 were first played in Paris, it is reported that the operatic composer 
 Boieldieu was much disconcerted, because, as he said, he liked "mu- 
 sique quimeberce." The transition (measures 43-81) is a remark- 
 able example of Beethoven's power of creating ever more and more 
 excitement and expectancy. It contains three subsidiary melodic 
 phrases, each of increasing rhythmic animation, e. g., 
 
 (a) .- — 
 
 f- 
 
 t¥- 
 
 —r- 
 
 ^n 
 
 n»— h — 
 
 -^ ^ 
 
 y^4 ^ 
 
 dolce 
 
 1^ 
 
 
 ^h 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 ^^E^^^ 
 
 =S=t 
 
 ^^^^m 
 
 J i 
 
 \^ 
 
 1* 
 
 ^^ 
 
 and fairly whirls us into the beautiful contemplative theme at measure 
 81. This theme embodies some entrancing modulations into remote 
 keys, and then, after one of Beethoven's typical passages of hushed 
 pianissimo (beginning in measure 97) we are led through a series of 
 sforzandos, crescendos and titanic ejaculations to the overpowering 
 dissonances in measure 145, which with the tonic chord close the 
 Exposition in the dominant key. The Development (measures 164- 
 396) is extremely long and varied, but a perfect manifestation of 
 spontaneous, organic treatment — each portion growing inevitably 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 135 
 
 from what has preceded and marching irresistibly onward to its 
 objective goal. Every modulatory, rhythmic and polyphonic device 
 is employed to vary and intensify the message; yet, notwithstanding 
 the diversity of the material, we are held spell-bound by the directness 
 and coherence of the thought. Such is Beethoven's passionate in- 
 sistence on the right to speak out just what he felt that in one stupen- 
 dous passage (measures 246-277) it seems as if the very Heavens were 
 falling about our heads. At measure 282 a theme of ideal repose is 
 interpolated — just the contrast needed after the preceding cataclysm. 
 The Development proper is renewed in measure 298 and after a rep- 
 etition of the interpolated theme in measures 320-335 the rhythm 
 of the first theme asserts itself in all its majesty, carrying us upward 
 to a veritable table-land of sublimity. Gradually we are brought 
 down through a series of decrescendo, modulatory chords, like drift- 
 ing mists, to an almost complete cessation of musical life — nothing 
 but a pianissimo tremolo on the strings. From this hush there floats 
 in upon us the rhythmic motive of the first theme; then, with a // 
 chord of the dominant, we are suddenly brought back into the sun- 
 shine of the main theme, and the Recapitulation has begun. This 
 portion with certain happy changes in modulation — note the beau- 
 tiful variant on the horn in measures 406-414, e. g., 
 
 HOBN 
 
 i 
 
 b f ^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 P P 
 
 ^ 
 
 I I l| 
 
 dolce 
 
 P 
 
 — preserves the customary emphasis on the main tonality of E-flat 
 major, ending in measures 549-550 with the same dissonances which 
 closed the Exposition. Then are declaimed by the fuU orchestra 
 those two dramatic outbursts which usher in the Coda and which may 
 be likened to "Stop! Listen! the best is yet to come." The blunt, 
 intentional disjunction of the harmony adds weight to the assertion, 
 e.g. 
 
 ^m 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 f 
 
 
 i^- 
 
 -s>-' 
 
 ^ 
 
 p 
 
 
 o • 
 
 -M 
 
 f f f 
 
 tt 
 
 // 
 
136 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Here we have a convincing illustration of Beethoven's individual 
 conception that the Coda should be a second and final development; 
 special points of interest and treatment being held in store, so that 
 it becomes a truly crowning piece of eloquence. Observe how the 
 reappearance of the interpolated theme balances the Coda with the 
 Development proper and how the various rhythms of the Exposition 
 are concentrated in the last page. Finally a series of bold, vibrato 
 leaps in the first violins — based on the dominant chord — brings 
 this impassioned movement to a close. 
 
 A lack of space prevents the inclusion in the Supplement of the 
 rest of the Symphony, but the student is urged to make himself fa-- 
 mihar with the three remaining movements: the Marcia Fundbre, 
 the Scherzo and the Finale. The Funeral March is justly ranked 
 with that of Chopin in his B-flat minor Sonata and that of Wagner 
 in the last act of the Gdtterddmmerung as one of the most eloquent in 
 existence, and contains melodies so touching that they could have 
 come only from the very soul of Beethoven. Especially noteworthy 
 is the aspiring melody of the middle, contrasting portion (Maggiore) 
 where the spirit, freed from earthly dross, seems to mount to the skies 
 in a chariot of fire. The third part, where the minor mode is resumed, 
 abounds in dramatic touches; especially that fugal passage, where 
 the ecclesiastical tone, combined with pealing trumpets, brings, before 
 us some funeral pageant in a vast, medieval cathedral. The Coda, 
 beginning in A-flat major, with an impressive mood of resignation, 
 illustrates at its close a psychological use of programmistic eflfect; 
 for the first theme, treated as a real person, disintegrates before oiu* 
 very eyes — becoming, as it were, a disembodied spirit. Nothing 
 can show more clearly than this passage the widening of the expressive 
 powers of music which we owe to the genius of Beethoven. The same 
 effect with a slightly different dramatic purpose is found at the end 
 of the Coriolanus Overture. 
 
 The Scherzo, allegro vivace, in triple time, but marked one beat 
 a measure =116 (almost two measures per second !), is unsurpassed 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 137 
 
 for sustained brilliancy and daring rhythmic changes. It is so idio- 
 matically conceived for orchestra that only the barest idea can be 
 gained from a pianoforte transcription. The prevailing beickground 
 is a mass of shimmering strings, marked by Beethoven "semjrre fp e 
 staccato" and against this stands out a buoyant, folk-song type of 
 melody on the oboe. After some mysterious and fantastic modula- 
 tions a ff chmax is reached which leads to the famous syncopated 
 passage where the orchestra seems to hurl itself headlong into space, 
 e.g. 
 
 i 
 
 -0- 
 
 -m- -m- 
 
 m^ 
 
 w 
 
 ff 
 
 */ 
 
 i±M 
 
 ^174^-1^ 
 
 ir 
 
 EE 
 
 p f 
 
 jiL- 
 
 ^f 
 
 (2- 
 
 tf 
 
 ■p etc. 
 
 I=t 
 
 i±^^=t 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
 -rr 
 
 The Trio, with its three hunting horns, gives a fresh, woodland note 
 typifying Beethoven's love of nature. Some mysterious modula- 
 tions lead us back from the dim recesses of the fbrest to the sparkling 
 animation of the Scherzo. In this part of the movement Beethoven 
 plays one of his characteristic practical jokes; for, just where we ex- 
 pect the same syncopated effect as befpre, the time is changed from 
 4 to 2> the duration of the measure remaining the same, e. g. 
 
 ^ 
 
 33EE^ 
 
 :*: f: ^ -h -i^ -k- -k- 
 
 5H» r^ 8 8 — r-t 1 1- 
 
 lt=l 
 
 P 
 
 'i^sS 
 
 ^-t^-"— H 
 
 S4^ 
 
 t=t 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^e 
 
 $ 
 
138 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 I 
 
 =?: 
 
 ^- 
 
 M 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 =^ 
 
 f= 
 
 ^E^ 
 
 ^r^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 "f=^ 
 
 -^ lite 
 
 i 
 
 « .etc 
 
 Ei 
 
 -l«— s 
 
 
 3r 
 
 This effect may be likened to the uproarious guffaws of a giant. 
 The Coda has a clear reminiscence of the dramatic C-sharp in the 
 main theme of the first movement, e. g. 
 
 J. 
 
 jj. 
 
 -J- 
 
 vjf-^-— 
 
 i^a 
 
 St 
 
 n-m-r 
 
 jop 
 
 ^/9 
 
 etc. 
 
 gas 
 
 "^ ^ \JVl \ i ' \ I ViW\ i \ 
 
 Such an organic connection between movements begins to be very 
 frequent in Beethoven's works. 
 
 The Finale, Allegro molto, has caused considerable difficulty to 
 the commentators for reasons known only to themselves. Different 
 forms are assigned to it by different critics; one regrets the falling off 
 of inspiration, another asserts that the movement "does not fulfill 
 the requirements which the human mind makes of art; it leaves us 
 confused." Poor Beethoven! But why all this pother? If the 
 inner evidence of the music itseK be any justification for structural 
 classification, this wonderful, inspired Finale is a series of free Vari- 
 ations^ on a double theme of which the parts are related to each other 
 as Soprano and Bass, e. g. 
 
 ' D-flat being the enharmonic equivalent of C-sharp. 
 
 ^ The variations are not numbered and the demarcations indicated only by 
 certain cadential objective points. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 139 
 
 i 
 
 (1), 
 
 SIS^ 
 
 m 
 
 -ft- -fL. 
 
 S^ 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 ^-v 
 
 ^E 
 
 ( inner parts omitted ) 
 (2) 
 
 etc. 
 
 i^fci 
 
 p=^ 
 
 ?=n:tt? 
 
 7-bwz 
 
 i 
 
 ^t 
 
 ^ 
 
 T 
 
 By beginning the first two variations with the less important of the 
 two melodies (i. e., the bass) Beethoven is simply indulging in his 
 fondness for piquing the fancy of the hearer by starting him on a 
 false trail — not giving away, as it were, his real purpose too soon. 
 Yet from the first announcement of the leading melody in the Third 
 Variation it assumes increasing importance, through successive ap- 
 pearances in E-flat major, B minor, D major and C major, until after 
 a long fugal development we reach the inspired passage (Poco Andante 
 con espressione), e. g., 
 
 J 
 
 i 
 
 s =p= 
 
 m^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 W 
 
 f3 con espressione 
 
 Jiit: 
 
 i 
 
 
 --^Si 
 
 1/ 
 
 
 IS 
 
 J 
 
 ^ 
 
 la 
 
 i 
 
 r— r-^r 
 
 cresc. 
 
 
 s/: 
 
 t- K , f-^-^^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 t=±t 
 
 m^. 
 
 w^ 
 
 in which the main theme is stated first in its noble simpHcity and then 
 enhanced by an obligate melody on the oboe. It is one of the most 
 eloquent passages in all symphonic literature. At its last appearance 
 the real theme comes fully to its own — for the first time in the bass, 
 that fundamental voice — where it is declaimed ff in gorgeous splen- 
 dor by all the lower instruments of the orchestra. It is evident that 
 not even the most inspired genius can sustain such a flight for ever, 
 and after this magnificent paean the workings of Beethoven's imagi- 
 
140 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 nation resemble those of Nature herself. Following a tranquil in- 
 termediary passage in A-flat major we enter upon one of those long, 
 mysterious periods of hushed suspense which may be compared 
 to a long expanse of open country or to the fading lights on the sea 
 at sunset. The last page, beginning with the Presto, is sheer orches- 
 tral jubilation of the most intoxicating kind. We may picture an 
 enthusiastic gathering, with hats thrown aloft and shouts of triumph 
 ringing from every throat. It is of historical interest to know that 
 the theme of this Finale must have been a favorite with Beethoven, 
 for he had used it in three former works: a Contre-dance, as the basis 
 for a set of Pianoforte Variations and in the Ballet Music to Prometheus. 
 It may not be too fanciful to trace a dramatic relationship between 
 its use in portraying the daring spirit who first stole fire from Heaven 
 and as the crowning message of a work meant to glorify all heroic 
 endeavor. A thorough familiarity with this movement will repay 
 the student not only as exemplifying Beethoven's freedom of ex- 
 pression but indeed as a point of departure for so many modern 
 works in free variation form. 
 
 See Supplement No. 45. 
 To illustrate Beethoven's Pianoforte compositions we shall now 
 analyze the Seventh Sonata in D major, op. 10, No. 3. Only whole-' 
 sale hero-worshipers consider all of the thirty-two Sonatas of equal 
 significance. It is true that, taken as a whole, they are a storehouse 
 of creative vitahty and that in each there is something, somewhere, 
 which strikes a spark; for everything which Beethoven wrote was 
 stamped with his jdominating personality. But the fire of genius 
 burns more steadily in some of the Sonatas than in others. It is the 
 very essence of genius to have its transcendent moments; only medi- 
 ocrity preserves a dead level. It is therefore no spirit of fault finding 
 which leads us to centre our attention upon those Sonatas which have 
 best stood the test of time and which never fail to convince us of their 
 "raison d'etre": the Appassionata, the Waldstein, the C-sharp minor, 
 the Pathetique, the Sonata in 6 major, op. 14, No. 2, and all the last 
 five, especially the glorious one in A-flat major, op. 119. It is futile 
 to deny that some of the early sonatas are experimental and that 
 certain others do not represent Beethoven at his best, being more 
 the result of his constructive power than of an impelling message 
 which had to be expressed. The D major Sonata has been selected 
 for study because, though composed in Beethoven's first period, it 
 is thoroughly characteristic, and because its performance is within 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 141 
 
 the powers of the average intelligent amateur. The full beauty of 
 the later Sonatas can be realized only by great virtuosi who devote 
 to them years of study. The work is in four movements: the first, 
 complete Sonata-form; the second, modified Sonata-form; the third. 
 Three-part; the Finale, a freely treated Rondo-Sonata-form. The 
 first movement, Presto, begins with a vigorous presentation of the 
 main theme which ends in measure 22 with the last of three^ octaves. 
 The unusually long transition, containing a subsidiary theme in B 
 minor, is remarkable for its onrushing excitement and for the playful 
 false leads which usher in the second theme. After a briUiant cadence 
 in the dominant key, one would suppose this theme might be an- 
 nounced in measure 53, but not so; after three measures of cantabile 
 melody, progress is interrupted by a group of descending octave leaps. 
 A second attempt is now made, this time in A minor, only to be 
 thwarted by a still more capricious octave descent. This time, 
 however, after a dramatic pause, we are rewarded with a clear-cut, 
 periodic melody beginning in measure 66, against which the rhythm 
 of the first theme keeps up a gentle undercurrent. Some interesting 
 modulations develop into a series of descending octaves which, ac- 
 companied by sf chords, lead to the closing portion. This briUiant 
 passage accentuates the dominant key of the second theme. After 
 a short tranqiullo phrase and some free imitations of the main theme 
 we repeat the Exposition, or go on to the Development ushered in 
 by a bold change to the mediant key of B-fiat major. After several 
 appearances of the main theme in the bass, Beethoven takes a leaf 
 out of D. Scarlatti's book and revels in some crossing of the hands 
 and some wide leaps. The Recapitulation corresponds exactly with 
 the first part until we reach the Coda in measure 298, which affords 
 a striking example of Beethoven's power of climax. After a long 
 period of suspense an imitative treatment of the first theme, with 
 kettle-drum effect in the bass, leads to a stringendo ascending passage 
 which closes with two crashing dissonances and two pecuHarly grouped 
 chords, e. g. 
 
 -- g-j- - -t-, k- -I— „it- -l-<--l- - -t-i H- -I- ■«- ±r 
 
 ku kf rrf t nitfit rrrtntitfft 
 
 m 
 
 ff 
 
 ifc 
 
 m 
 
 ff 
 
 
 m 
 m 
 
142 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 They have a hard, cutting brilliance all their own and give just the 
 touch of color needed to finish this dazzUng movement.' 
 
 In the Slow Movement, Largo e Mesto, there is a depth of emotion 
 quite unparalled in the early history of music.^ Certainly no com- 
 poser since Bach had uttered such a message. As soon as the move- 
 ment begins we are convinced that it represents the outpouring of a 
 soul capable of deep meditations upon life and its mysteries, and with 
 the eloquence at its command to impress these thoughts upon the 
 hearer. The number of themes and their key relationship are those 
 of Sonata-form, but instead of the usual development we have a new 
 contrasting theme of great pathos in the major mode. Observe the 
 poignancy of the dissonances, e. g.. 
 
 etc. 
 
 N.B. 
 
 in the second theme of the Exposition which begins in measure 17, 
 and the passionate outcries in measures 35 and 37 of the middle por- 
 tion. Just before the Recapitulation, in measures 41-43, is an early 
 example of Beethoven's fondness for instrumental recitative — music 
 speaking with a more intimate appeal than words. The movement 
 ends with an impassioned Coda which, beginning with the main theme 
 in the bass and working up, more and more agitato, to a powerful 
 climax, dies away with mysterious fragments of the opening meas- 
 ures. The dissonant element so characteristic of the whole move- 
 ment is retained to the end, e. g. 
 
 ' By Beethoven everything is carefully planned. Note in performance the 
 contrast of mood suggested by these final chords and the sombre register of the 
 opening chords of the Slow Movement. 
 
 ^ According to d'Indy it is more truly pathetic than the entire so-called Pathetic 
 Sonata. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 143 
 
 > : , n ^ 
 
 |g_^^ 
 
 H , -C- i f H- ,-t 
 
 -• — b — I 
 
 pp 
 
 k^L^LL 
 
 m 
 
 r r 
 
 ir.N.B. 
 
 r 
 
 N.B. -p- 
 
 The growing importance of dissonance may be seen from a comparison 
 of this movement with the average slow movements of Haydn and Mo- 
 zart. These, although they have serenity and grace, beauty and finish 
 of form, and are sincere manifestations of the genius of their creators, 
 are yet lacking in passion. This placid mood and amiability of style 
 is shown by the comparatively shght employment of dissonances. 
 By unthinking and uncultivated persons dissonancesi are often con- 
 sidered as something harsh, repellant — hence to be avoided. But 
 dissonances contain the real life and progress of music. They arouse, 
 even take by storm our imaginations and shake us out of our equanim- 
 ity. Consonant chords represent stabUity, satisfaction and, when 
 over-used, inertia. The genius of the composer is shown in establish- 
 ing just the right proportion between these two elements; but if there 
 is to be any disproportion let us have too much rather than too httle 
 dissonance, for then, at any rate, the music is alive. Since Beethoven 
 the whole development of music as a human language shows the 
 preponderating stress laid on dissonance; to this fact a knowledge 
 of the works of Schxmiann, Chopin, Wagner, Debussy and Franck 
 will amply testify." The same analogy holds equally in all realms 
 of life, human and physical. The truest development of character 
 depends on the warring elements of good and evil. Honest discon- 
 tent is the first step to progress. Dissonance is the yeast of music 
 and should be welcomed for its invigorating influence. 
 
 ' A frequent confusion of thought is shown in the use of the words " discord " 
 and " dissonance." A discord is an unrelated noise, as when one bangs with both 
 fists on the key-board. A dissonance is a logical introduction of intervals or chords 
 made up of jarring factors for their stimulating effect upon the imagination. 
 
 ^ Two of the greatest innovators in this direction, Scriabin and Stravinsky, 
 have been working in our own day, and there is no doubt that by their daring 
 experiments they have enlarged the expressive powers of music. While it is 
 obvious that the dramatic effect of to-day stimulates the experimentation of to- 
 morrow, contrariwise, the immediate contribution of each innovator is to render 
 more clear the work of bis predecessor, up to that moment the confessed iconoclast- 
 
144 MUSIC: Ali] ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The third movement, Minuetto, may be taken as a reply to 
 Haydn's well-known wish "Oh! that some one would write us a new 
 Minuet." Well, here it is — with aU the grace and charm of the 18th 
 century type and yet with more import, especially in the Coda with 
 its haunting retrospect. The rhythmic formation of the opening 
 sentence would be clearer if two measures had been thrown into one, 
 for the swing is clearly that of a | measure. The Trio, with its 
 Scarlatti-lLke crossing of the hands, is a playful bit of badinage, 
 affording a delightful contrast to the Minuetto. Such genuine va- 
 riety in mood makes the Three-part Form of lasting worth. 
 
 The Finale, Allegro, with its capricious fortissimo outbursts and 
 unexpected sforzandos is a characteristic example of Beethoven's free- 
 dom of utterance. Any cast-iron conception of form was entirely for- 
 eign to his nature; instead, he made form the servant of the freest flights 
 of fancy. The movement begins as if it were to be worked out in the 
 so-called Rondo Sonata-form — a hybrid, tripartite structure related 
 to the Sonata-form in that it has two themes in the first and last 
 portions, and to the Rondo in that the middle portion is a free Episode 
 instead of the customary development of former material. The 
 salient feature by which this form may always be recognized is that 
 the Exposition closes with a definite return to the first theme — thus 
 emphasizing the Rondo aspect — instead of with an expanded cadence 
 based upon the second theme. As we have stated before (see Chapter 
 IX), many of Beethoven's Finales are in this mixed form, clear ex- 
 amples of which may be found in the last movements of the Fourth, 
 Eighth and TweKth Sonatas. The Finale of the Twelfth Sonata 
 has been included in the Supplement in order to make this impor- 
 tant form familiar to the student. To return now to the Finale 
 of the sonata we are studying. Its first two portions correspond 
 exactly to the usual practice in the Rondo-Sonata form just ex- 
 plained; i. e., we find in the Exposition a first theme, a modulatory 
 transition, a second theme (beginning in measure 17) and a definite 
 repetition of the first theme, in measures 25-32. Then, after two 
 measures of bold modulation, begins the middle, episodical passage 
 which, closing with a whimsical cadenza-hke passage, leads back to 
 the beginning of the third part. After a complete, slightly varied 
 appearance of the first theme, Beethoven does not repeat the second 
 theme, as we should expect, but allows his fancy to indulge in a series 
 of brilliant passages, exciting modulations and dynamic contrasts. 
 All this freedom is held together by insistence on the fundamental 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 145 
 
 rhythmic motive (measures 72-83). A final embellished statement 
 of the first theme ushers in the fiery Coda, in measure 92, which ends 
 with a long running passage; beneath, we hear reminiscences of the 
 main theme. It is often stated that Beethoven's Sonatas are lacking 
 in pianistic eflFect, and it is true that his pianoforte works do not bring 
 out the possibilities of color and sonority as we find them, for example, 
 in Chopin and Debussy — the orchestra and the string-quartet being 
 indeed his favorite media of expression. Yet during his entire early 
 career Beethoven was famous as a performer and improviser on the 
 pianoforte and some, at any rate, of his deepest thoughts have been 
 confided to that instrument. That he was not at all insensible to the 
 beauty of pianistic effect for its own sake is shown by the syncopated, 
 shadowy chords in measures 101-105, the whole justification for which 
 Hes in their enchanting sound. ^ 
 
 Symphony No. 5* 
 
 The Fifth Symphony in C minor, op. 67, is deservedly popular be- 
 cause it is so human; a translation, in fact, of life itself into the glow- 
 ing language of music. Beethoven's emotional power was so deep 
 and true that, in expressing himself, he spoke, like every great phi- 
 losopher, poet or artist, for all mankind. Which one of us in his own 
 experience, has not felt the same protests against relentless Fate that 
 find such uncontrollable utterance in the first movement? Who, 
 again, is untouched by that angehc message, set before us in the 
 second movement, of hope and aspiration, of heroic and even warlike 
 resolution, mingled with the resignation which only great souls know? 
 The third movement (Allegro) — in reality a Scherzo of the most 
 
 ^ For a very clear tabular view of the structure of this Sonata see d'Indy's 
 Cours de Composition Musieah, Book II, p. 33S. 
 
 ^ This is not given in the Supplement. See preceding remarks apropos of the 
 Third Symphony. The comments are based, as usual, on the full orchestral 
 score. 
 
 ' This interpretation of d'Indy is based upon the prevalence in the movement 
 of the conventional martial rhythm J75 Bnd carries, we must acknowledge, con- 
 siderable weight. It is, however, distinctly subjective and prevents no one from 
 gaining quite a different impression. We should be more inclined to accept ths 
 views of the noted French scholar had he not been so wide of the mark, while 
 speaking of the Seventh Symphony, as to deny any appearance of dance-rhythm 
 in the first movement. But the Irish composer, Villiers Stanford, has shown con- 
 clusively that the theme is based upon the rhythm of an Irish Hornpipe. Thus 
 do the wise ones disagree ! Meanwhile, we others have the mtisic itself. 
 
146 
 
 MDSIC: AS ABT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 . fantastic type, though not so marked — might well typify the riddle 
 of the Universe. We indeed "see through a glass darkly," and yet 
 there is no note of despair. Amid the sinister mutterings of the basses 
 there ring out, on the horns and trumpets, clarion calls to action. 
 While we are in this world we must live its lite; a hving death is un- 
 endurable. The Finale, Allegro maestoso, is a majestic declaration 
 of unconquerable faith and optimism — the intense expression of 
 Beethoven's own words, "I will grapple with Fate, it shall never 
 pull me down" — to be compared only with Browning's "God's 
 in his heaven, all's right with the world," and the peroration to 
 Whitman's Mystic Trumpeter, "Joy, joy, over aU joy!" No ade- 
 quate attempt could be made to translate the music into words. 
 "The Symphony is extremely subjective; indeed, autobiographic. 
 For all historical details as to its composition, the reader is referred 
 to the Grove essay,^ and for eulogistic rhapsodies nothing can surpass 
 the essay of Berlioz, that prince of critics. We shall content our- 
 selves with a few comments of a structural nature and then trust the 
 student to seek a performance of the work by a good orchestra. Of 
 the first movement (Allegro con brio)^ the dominant characteristics, 
 especially in comparison with the wealth of material in the Heroic, 
 are conciseness and intensity. It starts at once, without prelude, 
 with the motive — one of the tersest in music — from which is de- 
 veloped, polyphonically, the first theme, e. g. 
 
 Strings and clarinets strings alone * 
 
 i=i=^=^^ 
 
 m 
 
 zSidsdz 
 
 d S S 
 
 T 
 
 f-= 
 
 e^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 i_^ 
 
 i± 
 
 * There are also some p holding notes on the bassoons. 
 ^ Beethoven and his Nine Symphonies by Sir George Grove. 
 ^ Beethoven's favorite mark of tempo and expression. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 147 
 
 Everything is concentrated in the highest degree and the assault upon 
 our consciousness is of corresponding power. A tempestuous transi- 
 tion leads to two short sf chords and then in measure 59, announced 
 // by the horns, appears the first phrase of the second theme, based 
 on the same motive as the first, but in the relative major (E-flat),e. g. 
 
 strings 
 
 Horns 
 
 E^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 4=. 
 
 ^ 
 
 1= 
 
 w 
 
 ^ 
 
 f=^p 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 
 ff 
 
 ¥ ¥ 
 
 ¥. 
 
 etc. 
 
 <=L 
 
 9^J 
 
 ^^t 
 
 lit 
 
 ■^^—» — • — 0- 
 
 -P 
 
 bassi 
 
 It is answered by a second phrase of marked simplicity and love- 
 Uness — a mood, indeed, of resignation. This is only momentary, 
 however, for the relentless rhythm of the chief motive continues to 
 assert itseK in the basses until, as it gathers headway after a short 
 closing phrase (95-99), it is thundered out ff by the fuU orchestra in 
 a series of descending groups. The Development continues the same 
 resistless impetuosity. Note the grim effect of the empty fifths and 
 fourths in measures 126-127. Once only is there a slackening of the 
 titanic, elemental drive — in the mysterious passage (212-239) where 
 the pent-up fury of the composer seems to have exhausted itself. 
 It is only, however, a lull in the storm which breaks forth with re- 
 newed energy in the Recapitulation and Coda. Observe the pathetic 
 commentary which the solo oboe makes upon the main theme at the 
 outset of the third part (268) — a flower growing out of the debris of 
 the avalanche. The Coda begins, at measure 374, with a passionate 
 insistence upon the fundamental rhythm, driven home with sharp 
 hammer-blows and, as in all Beethoven's symphonic movements, 
 furnishes an overpowering cHmax, not a mere perfunctory close. The 
 second Movement, in A-flat major, is a series of free^ Variations (five 
 in number) based on a theme. Andante con moto,^ of great rhythmic 
 vitaUty, peculiarly rich and suave — announced, as it is, by 'celli 
 and violas in unison, e. g. 
 
 ' Free, in that they are not numbered and are not separated by rigid cadences; 
 in that episodical passages — often of a rhapsodic natiure — are interpolated. 
 
 ^ The tempo is often taken by conductors too slowly, thus losing much of its 
 buoyancy. 
 
148 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Violas 
 
 |bB5 
 
 a 
 
 m I I — ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -• ■d J ■ 
 
 J:3fe«t 
 
 i?5^=^ 
 
 'CelU 
 
 /D (2o2ce 
 
 i^^ 
 
 - i — r 
 
 =P^ 
 
 P r ^ l I 
 
 ^ 
 
 :^ 
 
 ^yfh 
 
 -I — !- 
 
 ^! 
 
 B^P'^^'^ pizz. 
 
 i^68=^ 
 
 S!8: 
 
 ^ 
 
 The first two presentations of the theme are in each case followed by 
 a passage of martial character which bursts triumphantly into C 
 major. There is an orchestral touch of great beauty and originality 
 in the first and second variations (beginning in measures 49 and 98 re- 
 spectively), where a solo clarinet — later a flute, oboe and bassoon — 
 prolongs a single tone which seems to float above the melody like a 
 guiding star.^ A passage of special significance is that in measures 
 123-146, where Beethoven indulges in a touching soUloquy upon 
 his main theme. It is mysteriously introduced by the repetition, 
 eight times, fp, of the dominant chord (the simplest medium of sus- 
 pense) which seems to say "Hush, I have something most intimate 
 to reveal." The Coda (Piu Moto) begins with a mood of wistful 
 reverie, but the clouds are soon dispelled and the movement ends in 
 radiant sunshine. 
 
 The salient structural feature in the last two movements^ is that 
 they are merged together; there is no pause after the Scherzo; and the 
 
 ' While listening to this passage one is instinctively reminded of Keats's "Bright 
 and steadfast star, hung aloft the night." 
 
 ^ Taken separately, the movements are perfectly normal; the Scherzo in the 
 usual Three-part form and the Finale in complete Sonata-form. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 149 
 
 movements are further interlocked by an interpolation, in the middle 
 of the Finale, of a portion of the preceding Scherzo — a kind of inter- 
 quotation or cross reference. This composite movement is a striking 
 example of the organic relationship which Beethoven succeeded in 
 establishing between the different movements of the symphony. 
 Prior to him, it is fair to say — to use a homely simile — that a sonata 
 or a symphony resembled a train of different cars merely Hnked to- 
 gether, one after the other; whereas the modern work, as foreshadowed 
 by Beethoven, is a vestibuled train: one indivisible whole from be- 
 ginning to end.i But before the Fifth Symphony there had been no 
 such systematic unification; for it is not too much to say that the 
 whole work is based upon the persistent iteration of a single note in 
 varied rhythmic groups. Thus in the first movement we find con- 
 4 ^ JJ2 I J I ; in the second, in several places 
 I i I ^5 J^ 1 1 ; in the Scherzo | ^ J J J | J • | ; and in the Finale 
 I S J J ^1 J J JT^ 1 J I- Furthermore a C, repeated by the 
 kettle-i'imis for fifty measures, is the chief factor in the connecting 
 link between the Scherzo and the Finale. We shall observe this 
 tendency to interconnection stiU further developed by Schumann 
 in his Fourth Symphony, by Liszt in the Symphonic Poem^ (to be 
 treated later), and a climax of attainment reached in such highly uni- 
 fied works as Cesar Franck's D minor Symphony and Tchaikowsky's 
 Fifth. To return to the Scherzo, well worthy of note is the Trio, 
 in free fugal form (its theme announced by the ponderous double 
 basses), because it is such a convincing illustration of the himiorous 
 possibihties inherent in fugal style. The way in which the voices 
 
 ^ There are traces of this striving for organic unity in several of the early 
 Sonatas, notably in the Sonata PathHigue, where the motive of the first theme of 
 the Finale is identical with that of the second theme of the opening movement e. g. 
 
 1st Movement 
 
 pi 
 
 Also in the C-sharp minor Sonata, op. 37, we find a case of melodic relationship 
 between a phase in the introductory meditation and the main theme of the Minuet. 
 
 ' A Symphonic Poem is a descriptive composition for orchestra which incorpo- 
 rates many of the customary symphonic moods; but the form is free, largely de- 
 pendent on the poetic basis, and the structure is without stops, being one continuous 
 whole. 
 
150 MUSIC: AN ART AOT) A LANGUAGE 
 
 chase each other about — compared by Berlioz' with the gambols of 
 a delighted elephant — and their spasmodic attempts at assertion, 
 produce an effect irresistibly droll. The humour is as broad as that 
 of Aristophanes or Rabelais. Words are powerless to describe the 
 thrill of the last fifty measures which launch us into the Finale. We 
 may merely observe that this long passage, pp throughout until the last 
 molto crescendo, and with the rhythmic element reduced to a minimum, 
 makes more of an impact upon our imagination than that of the loud- 
 est orchestral forces ever conceived. We are reminded of the effect 
 of the "still, small voice" after the thunders on Sinai. The Finale, 
 with its majestic opening theme in fanfare, contains a wealth of 
 material and is conceived throughout in the utmost spirit of optimis- 
 tic joy and freedom.^ The Exposition has a subsidiary theme of its 
 own, beginning at measure 26, which reappears with rhythmic modi- 
 fication (diminution), and most eloquently announced by the bassoons, 
 in the first section of the final Coda. After the brilliant second theme 
 (45-63) there is an impressive closing theme (with some biting fp 
 dissonances) which forms the basis of the Presto portion of the 
 Coda. The Development is a marvellous treatment of the second 
 theme, in imitation, modulation and climactic growth; the rhythm 
 I g J J j I J rrn | J |> so vitally connected with the whole work, 
 persisting with stupendous energy. In the final measures it would 
 seem as if BeethoVen were storming the very heavens. Here occurs 
 the quotation from the preceding Scherzo which binds the movements 
 together and serves as a point of departure for a stiU greater climax. 
 It seems unreasonable to expect a higher flight, but the genius of 
 Beethoven is equal to the effort. If, before, we have reached the 
 heavens, now we pierce them. The brilliant Coda — note the ascend- 
 ing runs for the piccolo — is in three sections, the first based on the 
 subsidiary theme, e. g.. 
 
 Bassoons Hokns 
 
 fe^^^^^^ 
 
 E 
 
 =t 
 
 ^ 
 
 ff p dolce 
 
 the second on the closing theme in quickened tempo, e. g., 
 
 ' His exact words are — "Le milieu (the trio) ressemble assez aux ^bats d'un 
 dldphant en gaiet^ — mais le monstre s'^loigne et le bruit de sa folle course se perd 
 graduellement. ' ' 
 
 ^ Its motto might well be Browning's famous lines: " How good is man's life, 
 how fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy." 
 
BEETHOVEN", THE TONE-POET 
 
 151 
 
 i 
 
 Presto 
 
 Strings 
 
 3i 
 
 ^^ 
 
 U J- i i 
 
 fp 
 
 -^ i. 
 
 -i^ n^ 
 
 fP 
 
 J-^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ii$ 
 
 I I 
 
 a i 4 i 
 
 -f- T*- V -1^ 
 
 -(9-^ 
 
 -il '-d 1 1 >— 
 
 * i i i * 
 
 /p 
 
 I rir 
 
 ^^ 
 
 XTT 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -^-r—^r 
 
 « — ^ 
 
 -rr 
 
 and the third, a canonic treatment of the opening fanfare, e. g.. 
 
 te 
 
 £ 
 
 w 
 
 ff 
 
 ^ 
 
 ff^ 
 
 ^-^-^ 
 
 ^ ^ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 # — • — p- 
 
 p > 
 
 J — I — u 
 
 J^ 
 
 j-ij J J 
 
 etc. 
 
 I I I 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 -• g •- 
 
 in which the orchestra seems to tumble head over heels in a paroxysm 
 of delight. The movement closes vdth prolonged shouts of victory 
 and exultation.* 
 
 * This pianoforte figure being a very inadequate substitute for the restless 
 tremolo of the violas, i, e.. I n "T" ^^^ 
 
 ' For suggestive comments by the noted critic E. T. A. Hoffinann, one of the 
 first to realize the genius of Beethoven, and for a complete translation of his essay 
 on the Fifth Symphony see the article by A. W. Locke in the Musical Quarterly 
 for January, 1917. 
 
162 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The Coriolands Ovektube. 
 
 This dramatic work is of great importance, not only for its emotional 
 power and eloquence, but because it represents a type of Program 
 music, i. e., music with a suggestive title, which Beethoven was the 
 first to conceive and to establish. From the inherent connection 
 between the materials of music (sound and rhythm) and certain nat- 
 ural phenomena (the sound and rhythm of wind, wave and storm, 
 the call of birds, etc.) it is evident that the possibility for Program — 
 or descriptive — music has always existed.' That is, the imagination 
 of musicians has continually been influenced by external sights, sounds 
 and events; and to their translation into music suggestive titles have 
 been given, as a guide to the hearer. Thus we find Jannequin, a 
 French composer of the 16th century, writing two pieces — for voices! 
 — entitled "Les oris de Paris" and "La Bataille — difaite des Suisses 
 a la joumee de Marignan;" in the former of which are introduced the 
 varied cries of street venders and in the latter, imitations of fifes, 
 drums, cannon and all the bustle and noises of war. In the Fitzwilliam 
 Virginal Book there is a Fantasie by John Mundy of the English 
 school, in which such natural phenomena as thunder, lightning and 
 fair weather are delineated. There is a curious similarity between 
 the musical portrayal of lightning in this piece^ of Mundy and that 
 of Wagner in the Valkyrie. In the Bible Sonatas of the German com- 
 poser Kuhnau (1660-1722) we have a musical description of the com- 
 bat between David and Goliath. Anyone at aU familiar with the 
 music of Couperin and Rameau will recall the variety of fantastic 
 titles assigned to their charming pieces for the clave fin — almost 
 always drawn from the field of nature: birds, bees, butterflies, hens, 
 windmills, even an eel! It is but fair to state that we also find at- 
 tempts at character drawing, even in those early days, as is indicated 
 by such titles as La Prude, La DUigente, La S&duisante? Haydn's 
 portrayal of Chaos, in the Prelude to the Creation, is a remarkable 
 
 ^ A complete account of this development may be found in the first two chapters 
 of Niecks's Programme Music. 
 
 ' For an excellent description of this piece, as well as others of the period, see 
 the volume by Krehbiel The Pianoforte and Its Music. 
 
 ' A comprehensive and invaluable description of the works and style of Cou- 
 perin and Rameau may be found in the History of the Pianoforte and its Players 
 by Oscar Bie. For an early example of what is now called " poetic atmosphere " 
 everyone should know Couperin's piece Les Barricades Mystdrieuses which is 
 more suggestive when played on the clavecin with its delicate tone. 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 163 
 
 mood-picture and shows a trend in quite a different direction. All 
 these instances corroborate the statement that, in general, composers 
 were influenced by external phenomena and that their program music 
 was of an imitative and often frankly literal kind. From what we 
 know of Beethoven's nature and genius, however, we should imagiae 
 that he would be far more interested in the emotions and struggles 
 of the soul and we find that such indeed is the case. With the ex- 
 ception of the Pastoral Symphony with its bird-calls and thunder- 
 storm and the Egmord Overture with its graphic description of a 
 returning victorious army, his program music invariably aims at the 
 description of character and the manner in which it is influenced by 
 events — not, be it understood, at a musical portrayal of the events 
 themselves. This difference in type is generally indicated by the 
 terms subjective and objective, i. e., program music is subjective, when 
 it deals with the emotions and moods of real or historical persons; 
 objective, when it is based upon incidents or objects of the actual 
 world. It is evident that in subjective program music an adjustment 
 must be made, for the dramatic needs of the subject are to be con- 
 sidered as weU as the inherent laws of music itself. We may state 
 that the widening of the conception of form, so marked in modern 
 music, has been caused by the need of such an adjustment; for as 
 composers became more cultivated, more in touch with Ufe and of 
 more richly endowed imagination, the arbitrary conventions of strict 
 form had perforce to yield to the demands of dramatic treatment. 
 This implies not that program music is without a definite structure, 
 only that the form is different — modified by the needs of the subject. 
 As there is no other point in aesthetics which has caused more loose 
 thinking, a few further comments may be pertinent. Some critics 
 go so far as to deny the right of existence to all program music.^ Of 
 course there is good as well as bad program music, but to condemn 
 it per se is simply to fly in the face of facts, for a large proportion of 
 the music since Beethoven is on a poetic basis and has descriptive 
 titles. Others claim that they cannot understand it. But that is 
 their loss, not the fault of the music; the composer writes it and it is 
 for us to acquire the state of mind to appreciate it. Another mis- 
 leading allegation, often heard, is that a piece of program music 
 should be so clear and self-sufficient that the hearer needs to know 
 nothing of the title to derive the fullest enjoyment. But this simply 
 begs the question. As well say that in listening to a song we need to 
 
 1 A favorite term of opprobrium is that the program is a " crutch." 
 
164 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 know nothing of the meaning of the text. It is true that in lis- 
 tening to Beethoven's Coriolanus, for example, any sensitive hearer 
 will be impressed by the vitality of the rhythm and the sheer beauty 
 of orchestral sound. But to hold that such a hearer gets as much 
 from the work as he who knows the underlying drama and can follow 
 sympathetically the correspondence between the characters and their 
 musical treatment is to indulge in reckless assertion. The true re- 
 lationship between composer and hearer is this: when works are en- 
 titled Coriolanus, Melpomene, Francesca da Rimini, Sahuntala, L'apr^- 
 midi d'un Faune, The Mystic Trumpeter, L'apprenti Sorcier, and the 
 composers reveal therein the influence such subjects have had upon 
 their imagination, they are paying a tacit compliment to the hearer 
 whose breadth of intelligence and cultivation they expect to be on a 
 par with their own. If such be not the case, the fault is not the com- 
 poser's; the burdten of proof is on the listener.* Let us now trace cer- 
 tain relationships between the drama of Coriolanus and the musical 
 characterization of Beethoven. The Overture was composed as an 
 introduction to a tragedy by the German playright von ColKn, but 
 as the play is obsolete and as both von Collin and Shakespeare went 
 to Plutarch for their sources, a familiarity — which should be taken 
 for granted^ — with the English drama will furnish sufficient back- 
 ground for an appreciation of the music. The scene before the city 
 gates is evidently that in which Volumnia and Virgilia plead with 
 the victorious warrior to refrain from his fell purpose of destruction. 
 The work is in Sonata-form, since the great Sonata principle of duality 
 of them£ exactly harmonizes with the two main influences of the drama 
 — the masculine and the feminine. It is of particular interest to 
 observe how the usual methods of Sonata-form procedure are modi- 
 fied to suit the dramatic logic of the subject. The work begins. 
 Allegro con brio, with three sustained Cs — as if someone were stamp- 
 ing with heavy foot — followed by a series of assertive ff chords for 
 full orchestra (note the piercing dissonance in the 7th measure), 
 
 ^ There are several easays which will help the student toward clear thinking on 
 this important subject : the valuable essay Program, Music in Newman's Mimcal 
 Studies, the article on the subject in Grove's Dictionary, and the exhaustive volume 
 by Niecks ; some of his views, however, are extreme and must be accepted with 
 caution. Above all should be read Wagner's interpretation of Coriolanus in lus 
 essay on the Overture (English translation by W. A. Ellis). 
 
 * Twenty-five years' experience as a college teacher, however, has proved that 
 too much may be taken for granted 1 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 155 
 
 which at once establishes an atmosphere of headstrong defiance. The 
 first theme, beginning in measure 15 with its restless rhythm, is not 
 meant to be beautiful in the ordinary sense of the term — "a con- 
 course of sweet sounds"; rather is it a dramatic characterization, a 
 picture in terms of music, of the reckless energy and the fierce threats 
 which we naturally associate with Coriolanus. The theme is repeated 
 and then the transition develops this masculine mood in an impas- 
 sioned manner — observe the frequency of «/ accents and the crashing 
 dissonances"^ — until a sustained note on the violins, followed by 
 a descending cantabile phrase, brings us to the second theme, e. g. 
 1st Violins 
 
 se 
 
 -Z5*- 
 
 f) 
 
 This theme, in distinction from the first, typifies the appeal for mercy 
 made by the women in the drama. No contrast could be stronger 
 than that between these two themes — the first, impulsive, staccato, 
 of sweeping range, and in the minor; the second, suave, legato, re- 
 strained and in the major. They show indeed how powerfully 
 Beethoven's imagination was impressed by the subject. After an 
 eloquent expansion of the second theme there follow several stormy 
 measures (the deprecations of the women are at first of no avail) 
 that lead through a crescendo to a closing theme, at measure 83, in 
 which the mood of defiant assertion is strongly marked. The ex- 
 position closes in this mood, in measure 100, and the following De- 
 velopment accentuates it through several successions of restless, 
 crescendo passages until a^ descent sweeps us back to the Recapitula- 
 tion, in measure 151. It is now evident that the furious intentions 
 of the warrior have raged themselves out, for not only is the theme 
 which represents him much shortened but it loses somewhat of its 
 former fiery intensity. From here on, the trend of the music is largely 
 modified by the dramatic demands of the subject. That the appeals 
 of the women are beginning to prevail is evident from the emphasis 
 laid on the second theme, which gives its message no less than three 
 times, instead of the single appearance which we should expect in the 
 usual Recapitulation. The third appeal, in measures 247-253, is 
 rendered most pathetic by being expressed in the minor mode. In 
 
 ' It is unfortunate that the diminished seventh chord does not sound so fierce 
 to our modem ears as it undoubtedly did in Beethoven's time, but that is simply 
 because we have become accustomed to more strident effects. 
 
166 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 the Coda there are fitful flare-ups of the relentless purpose, but that 
 the stubborn will has been softened is evident from the slowing down 
 of the rhythm, in measures 285-294. Finally, in the wonderful clos- 
 ing passage, we have a picture of broken resolves and ruined hopes. 
 The theme disintegrates and fades away — a lifeless vision. Al- 
 though much of the structure in this overture is identical with that 
 which prevails in absolute music — for, after all, the composer must 
 be true to the laws of his medium of expression — there is enough 
 purely dramatic treatment to justify the foregoing analysis. Bee- 
 thoven, at any rate, called the overture Coriolanus, and we may be 
 sure he meant it to represent Coriolanus and to be something more 
 than a skillful combination of sounds and rhythms. 
 
 We now add a few last words on the quality of Beethoven's themes 
 in his moments of supreme inspiration. The unshaken hold which 
 his music has upon the affections of mankind is due chiefly to two 
 striking characteristics: first, the way in which he dramatized every- 
 thing — themes, instruments, even single notes, i. e., treating them as 
 actual factors in life itself rather than as artistic abstractions; second, 
 the spirituality and sublimity in his immortal message. The first 
 quality is exemplified in a number of passages, notably in the first 
 movement of the Violin Concerto and in the Finale of the Eighth 
 Symphony. In the opening measures of the Concerto the use of the 
 single note D-sharp, and the entry pp of the F natural in the following 
 passage — in each case, entirely disconnected from the normal rules 
 of musical grammar — are most dramatic, e. g. 
 
 Solo Violin 
 
 -Iff- 
 
 ^Ais^fiiiiil 
 
 SSI 
 
 £ 
 
 Stkings 
 
 p^^ 
 
 p 
 
 p. 
 
 ^^^- 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 
 
 157 
 
 ITz 
 
 etc. 
 
 N.B. jDjo'^ 
 
 a 
 
 £ 
 
 »: 
 
 -^—T^ 
 
 r-^-^ 
 
 S 
 
 At the mysterious entrance of the F natural in this passage it would 
 seem as if some mighty spirit were suddenly looking over our shoulder. 
 In the Finale of the Eighth Symphony what can be more startling 
 than the sudden explosive entrance of the unrelated C-sharp — be- 
 fore the orchestra continues its mad career — which can be compared 
 only to the uproarious laughter of Rabelais himself, e. g. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 t^ 
 
 f-rs-f 
 
 ptu piano 
 
 PP 
 
 ii^ 
 
 1 * 1 I* n ^r 
 
 S-P= 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 - -4 a ^ 
 
 i 
 
 0» i> 
 
 fct=fe 
 
 ^ 
 
 :^EF=g=^g 
 
 r 
 
 fempre ff 
 
 etc. 
 
 i±^3 
 
 i=^ 
 
 There are numerous examples in Beethoven showing his dramatic 
 use of such orchestral instruments as the bassoons, horns, kettle- 
 drums and double basses. Possibly the most striking^ is the Slow 
 Movement of the G major Pianoforte Concerto — that inspired 
 
 ' See, however, the octave 
 Ninth Symphony. 
 
 leaps of the kettle-dnuns in the Scherzo of the 
 
168 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 dialogue, as it has been eloquently called, "between Destiny and the 
 human soul," in which the touching appeals of the solo instrument 
 are constantly interrupted by the sinister mutterings and forebodings 
 of the strings. Observe especially the closing measures where the 
 basses alone are heard pp, e. g. 
 Andante con moto 
 
 i 
 
 ii 
 
 -jr 
 
 zJ=i: 
 
 =t=ii 
 
 w 
 
 
 Solo f)f) 
 
 4- 
 
 :9i 
 
 ^ 
 
 t=t 
 
 -^ — i- 
 
 T=T 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 Tutu 
 
 Solo 
 
 1 
 
 -4=- 
 
 -> k N 
 
 w 
 
 j^:g--Hs^ Fl"T1-TT ^" 
 
 PFg 
 
 f) dim. 
 
 PP 
 
 ^Hmm^H • • • ~Wr ~^ 'm~ 
 
 i^ 
 
 
 sempredimin. 
 
 e— ^ — ^. — -■ -=^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -J- 
 
 f 
 
 4= 
 
 ^ 
 
 V- # 
 
 ^^r^i^— J- 4" 
 
 A spiritual quality escapes verbal definition; but just as we can 
 feel it in certain characters, and just as we recognize the sublime in 
 nature and in such works of art as a cathedral or a Shakespearian 
 Drama, so we may find it in the following specific examples from 
 his works : the Trio of the second movement of the Seventh Symphony ; 
 the Slow Movement theme of the B-flat major Trio and the Slow 
 Movement of the Sonata op. 109. (See Supplement Nos. 47, 48, 49.) 
 Anyone who allows these themes to sink into his consciousness is 
 carried into a realm of ideality where he begins to recognize the truth 
 
BEETHOVEN, THE TONE-POET 159 
 
 that "the things which are unseen are eternal." Music of this 
 transporting power is far above that which merely excites, amuses or 
 even fascinates; and of such music Beethoven is the poet for all time. 
 
 We have referred above to the voluminous literature extant con- 
 cerning Beethoven. Several scholars, in fact — notably Alexander 
 Thayer and Sir George Grove — have devoted a large part of their 
 Uves to finding out all there is to be known about his life and works. 
 Obviously the layman cannot be expected to become familiar with 
 this entire mass of historical and critical writing. The following 
 books, however, may be considered indispensable aids to those who 
 would become cultivated appreciators of Beethoven's masterpieces: 
 the Life of Beethoven by Alexander Thayer — a greatglory to American 
 scholarship; the life in Grove's Dictionary; the illuminating Biography 
 by d'Indy (in French and in English) ; Beethoven and his Nine Sympho- 
 nies by Grove; The Oxford History of Music, Vol. V; and the essay by 
 Mason in his Beethoven and his Forerunners.^ We cite, in closing, 
 a eulogy^ by Danreuther — in our opinion the most eloquent ever 
 written on Beethoven's genius: 
 
 "While listening," says Mr. Dannreuther, "to such works as the 
 Overture to Leonora, the Sinfonia Eroica, or the Ninth Symphony, 
 we feel that we are in the presence of something far wider and higher 
 than the mere development of musical themes. The execution in 
 detail of each movement and each succeeding work is modified more 
 and more by the prevaihng sentiment. A religious passion and 
 elevation are present in the utterances. The mental and moral 
 horizon of the music grows upon us with each renewed hearing. 
 The different movements — like the different particles of each move- 
 ment — have as close a connection with one another as the acts of a 
 tragedy, and a characteristic significance to be understood only in 
 relation to the whole; each work is in the full sense of the word a 
 revelation. Beethoven speaks a language no one has spoken before, 
 and treats of things no one has dreamt of before : yet it seems as though 
 he were speaking of matters long famihar, in one's mother tongue; 
 
 ' Suggestive comments from a literary point of view may also be fomid in these 
 works: Studies in the Seven Arts, Symonds; SeeiAiwem by Romain Holland — with 
 an interesting though ultra-subjective introduction by Carpenter ; The Development 
 of Symphonic Musie by T. W. Surette; Beethoven by Walker; Beethoven by 
 Chantavoine in the series Les Maitres de la Musique. As to the three successive 
 "styles" under which Beethoven's works are generally classified there is an 
 excellent accoimt in Pratt's History of Music, p. 419. 
 
 ' This passage is to be found in the Life in Grove's Dictionary. 
 
160 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 as though he touched upon emotions one had Hved through in some 
 former existence. . . . The warmth and depth of his ethical senti- 
 ment is now felt all the world over, and it will ere long be universally 
 recognised that he has leavened and widened the sphere of men's emo- 
 tions in a manner akin to that in which the conceptions of great phi- 
 losophers and poets have widened the sphere of men's intellectual 
 activity." 
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS. SCHUBERT AND WEBER 
 
 DURING the latter part of Beethoven's life — he died in 1827 
 — new currents were setting in, which were to influence pro- 
 foundly the trend of modern music. Two important, though in some 
 respects unconscious, representatives of these tendencies were actually 
 working contemporaneously with Beethoven, von Weber (1786-1826) 
 and Schubert (1797-1828). Beethoven himself is felt to be a dual 
 personaUty in that he summed up and ratified all that was best in 
 his predecessors, and pointed the way for most of the tendencies 
 operative since his time. For the designation of these two contrast- 
 ing, though not exclusive, ideals, the currently accepted terms are 
 Classic and Romantic. So many shades of meaning have unfortu- 
 nately been associated with the word Romantic that confusion of 
 thought has arisen. It is also true that the so-called Romanticists, 
 including poets and painters as well as musicians, in their endeavors 
 to break loose from the formaUty of the Classic period, have indulged 
 in many irritating idiosyncracies. We are beginning to see clearly 
 that a too violent expression of individuaUty destroys a most vital 
 factor in music — universality of appeal. Yet the Romantic School 
 cannot be ignored. To its representatives we owe many of our finest 
 works, and they were the prime movers in those strivings toward 
 freedom and ideality which have made the modern world what it is. 
 The term Romantic is perfectly clear in its apphcation to Uterature, 
 from which music borrowed it. It refers to the movement begun 
 about the year 1796 among such German poets as Tieck, the two 
 Schlegels and Novalis, to restore the poetic legends of the middle 
 ages, written in the Romance dialects, and to embody in their own 
 
THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS 16] 
 
 works the fantastic spirit of this medieval poetry.' In reference 
 to music, however, the terms Classic and Romantic are often vague 
 and misleading, and have had extreme interpretations put upon them.* 
 Thus, to many, "romantic" implies ultra-sentimental, mawkish or 
 grotesque, while everything "classic" is dry, iminspired and academic. 
 How often we hear the expression, "I am not up to classic music; 
 let me hear something modern and romantic." Many scholars show 
 Uttle respect for the terms and some would abolish them altogether. 
 Everything, however, hinges upon a reasonable definition. Pater's 
 well-known saying tJiat "Romanticism is the addition of strangeness 
 to beauty" is fair; and yet, since strangeness in art can result only 
 from imaginative conception, it amounts to nothing more than the 
 truism that romantic art is imbued with personahty. Hence 
 Stendhal is right in saying that "All good art was Romantic in its 
 day"; i. e., it exhibited as much warmth and individuality as the 
 spirit of its times would aUow. Surely Bach, Haydn and Mozart 
 were real characters, notwithstanding the restraint which the artifi- 
 cialities of the period often put upon their utterance. On the other 
 hand, work at first pronounced to be romantic establishes, by a uni- 
 versal recognition of its merit, the claim to be considered classic, or 
 set apart ; what is romantic to-day thus growing to be classic* tomorrow. 
 It is evident, therefore, that the terms interlock and are not mutually 
 exclusive. It is a mistaken attitude to set one school off against the 
 other, or to prove that one style is greater than the other; they are 
 simply different. Compositions of lasting worth always manifest 
 such a happy union of qualities that, in a broad sense, they may be 
 called both romantic and classic, i. e., they combine personal emotion 
 and imagination with breadth of meaning and sohdity of structure. 
 
 ' For a more complete historical account see the article " Romantic " in Grove's 
 Dictionary and the introduction to Vol. VI of The Oxford History of Music. 
 Rousseau and Romanticism by Professor Irving Babbitt presents the latest inves- 
 tigations in this important field. 
 
 * Some very sane comments may be fomid in Pratt's History of Music, pp. 427, 
 501, 503. 
 
 ' " A classic is properly a book " — and the same would be true of a musical 
 composition — "which maintains itself by that happy coalescence of matter and 
 style, that inate and requisite sympathy between the thought that gives life and the 
 form that consents to every mood of grace and dignity, and which is something 
 neither ancient nor modem, always new and incapable of growing old." 
 
 Lowell, Among My Boohs. 
 
162 MUSIC: AN ART Am) A LANGUAGE 
 
 Beginning, however, with Schubert and Weber — the two first 
 representatives of the romantic group — there is a marked novelty 
 of content and style; and if we drop the terms and confine ourselves 
 to the inner evidence of the music itself, we note a difference which 
 may be felt and to a certain extent formulated. To take extreme 
 types for the sake of vivid contrast, let us compare the compositions 
 of Haydn and Mozart with those of Berlioz and Liszt. In the former 
 there is repose, restraint and a perfect finish in the structural pre- 
 sentation; a feeling of serenity comes over us as we listen. In the 
 latter, a peculiar intensity of expression, an attempt to fascinate 
 the Ustener by the most intimate kinds of appeal, especially to the 
 senses and fancy, regardless of any hberties taken with former modes 
 of treatment. The purely classical composer is always master of 
 his subject, whereas the romanticist is often carried away by it. 
 Classical works are objectively beautiful, commending themselves 
 to everyone like works of nature, or, let us say, like decorative 
 patterns in pure design. Romantic works are subjective, charged 
 with individuality and demand a sensitive and sympathetic apprecia- 
 tion on the part of the hearer. It is evident that many of these ten- 
 dencies are found clearly outhned in the works of Beethoven. In 
 fact, as has been said, he was not only the climax of the classical 
 school, but the founder of the new era — opening a door, as it were, 
 into the possibilities of a more intense, specialized form of emotional 
 utterance and a freer conception of form. These special character- 
 istics were so fully developed by Beethoven's successors, Schubert, 
 Weber, Schumann, Chopin, etc. that they are always grouped to- 
 gether as the Romantic School. A striking feature in this whole 
 Romantic group is the early flowering of their genius and the short- 
 ness of their Uves — Weber, forty years, Schubert, thirty -one, 
 Schumann, forty-six, Mendelssohn, thirty-eight, Chopin, forty. 
 In the case of all the composers we have hitherto studied, with the 
 exception of Mozart, their masterpieces have been the result of long 
 years of patient, technical study and hence show that finish and 
 maturity of style which come only with time. But the precocity 
 of the Romanticists is astounding! Many of Schubert's famous 
 pieces were composed in his earliest manhood; Mendelssohn's Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream Overture dates from his sixteenth year; 
 Schumann's best pianoforte works were composed before he was 
 thirty. The irresistible spontaneity and vigor of all these works 
 largely atone for any blemishes in treatment. We feel somewhat 
 
THE ROMAIITIC COMPOSERS 163 
 
 the same in the case of Keats and Shelley in comparison with Milton, 
 and are reminded of Wordsworth's lines, "Bliss was it in that hour 
 to be alive, but to be young was very Heaven. ""^ Why expect sena- 
 torial wisdom and the fancy of youth in any one person! 
 
 A most important distinction between a classical and a romantic 
 composer is the knowledge and love of literature shown by the latter. 
 Although Haydn kept a note-book on his London tours, and although 
 we have a fair number of letters from Mozart, in neither of these 
 men do we find any appreciation of general currents of thought and 
 life. In many of Beethoven's works we have seen how close was the 
 coimection between Mterature and musical expression. All the 
 Romantic composers, with the exception of Schubert, were broadly 
 cultivated, and several could express themselves artistically in words 
 as weU as in notes. They may not have been on this account any 
 better composers, as far as sheer creative vitality is concerned, but 
 it is evident that their imaginations were nourished in quite a differ- 
 ent way and hence a novel product was to be expected. Romantic 
 music has been defined as a reflex of poetry expressed in musical 
 terms, at times fairly trembUng on the verge of speech. Music can 
 not, to be sure, describe matters of fact, but the Romantic composers 
 have brought it to a high degree of poetical suggestiveness. Thus 
 the horn-calls of Weber and Schubert remind us of "the horns of 
 Elfland faintly blowing" and much romantic music arouses our im- 
 aginations and enchants our senses in the same way as the Hnes of 
 Keats where he teUs of "Magic casements opening on the foam of 
 perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn," the chief glory of which is not 
 any precise intellectual idea they convey, but the fascinating picture 
 which carries us from the land of hard and fast events into the realm 
 of fancy. Schumann claimed that his object in writing music was 
 so to influence the imagination of the listeners that they could go on 
 dreaming for themselves. A second characteristic is the freedom 
 of form. Considering that a free rein to their fancy was incompatible 
 with strict adherence to traditional rules, the Romantic spirits refused 
 
 ' Compare also the definition of genius by Masters in the Spoon JUver 
 Anthology : 
 
 " In youth my wings were strong and tireless. 
 But I did not know the mountains. 
 In age I knew the mountains 
 
 But my weary wings could not follow my vision — 
 Genius is wisdom and youth." 
 
164 MUSIC: AN ART AOT) A LANGUAGE 
 
 to be bound by forms felt to be inadequate. Although this attitude 
 sometimes resulted in diffuseness and obscurity, on the whole (as 
 Goethe says of romantic literature) "a wider and more varied subject 
 matter and a freer form has been attained." The chief aim of ro- 
 mantic art being to arouse the imagination, we find a predilection 
 for the use of solo wood-wind instruments, which are capable of such 
 warmth and variety of tone-color. Whereas in the classical masters, 
 and even generally in Beethoven, the melodies are hkely to be the 
 upper voice of a harmonic mass, or assigned to groups of instruments, 
 Weber and Schubert in particular showed the eloquence to be gained 
 by the use of such warm-blooded solo instruments as the horn, the 
 oboe and the clarinet. Schubert fairly conjures with the horn, often 
 holding us spellbound with its haunting appeal, e. g., in the well- 
 known second movement of the C major Symphony, the calls of 
 which, as Schumann said, "seem to come from another world." 
 Schubert was anything but a thinker, and reflected unconsciously 
 the tendencies which were in the air; but his wonderful gift of lyric 
 melody was thoroughly in keeping with the individual expression 
 for which Romanticism stood. He said himself that his compositions 
 were the direct result of his inmost sorrows. He was steeped in 
 romantic poetry and the glowing fancy in his best work leads us to 
 condone the occasional prolixity referred to by Schumann as "heavenly 
 length." Schubert was well named by Liszt the most poetic of 
 musicians, i. e., a creator of pure beauty which enthralls the imag- 
 ination of the hearer. Why expect the work of any one composer 
 to manifest all possible merits? If we crave dynamic power of 
 emotion or subUmity of thought we may have recourse to Bach and 
 Beethoven; but the spontaneous charm of Schubert never grows 
 old; and it is not without interest to note that his music fulfils the 
 definition of one of the most poetic composers of our time, Debussy, 
 who claims that music is chiefly meant "to give pleasure." 
 
 We note these same tendencies in Weber as shown in the over- 
 tures to his three Romantic operas, Der Freischutz, Euryanthe and 
 Oberon, which are the foundations of the modern art of dramatic or- 
 chestration, i. e., the intensification of certain ideas and situations 
 by the special tone color and register of solo-instruments or by a 
 novel use of customary means, e. g., the divided violins in the mysteri- 
 ous passage of the Euryanthe. overture. Another favorite means of 
 arresting the attention was by modulation; not used in a constructive 
 sense, simply to pass from one point to another, or to connect themes 
 
THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS 165 
 
 in diflferent keys, but to furnish the ear with a purely sensuous de- 
 light, corresponding to that which the eye derives from the kalei- 
 doscopic colors of a sunset. The works of Schubert, Chopin and 
 to a lesser degree of Schumann abound in these shifting harmonies 
 by which we seem to be wafted along on a magic carpet. A final 
 characteristic, shared by aU the Romantic composers, is the prev- 
 alence of titles — the logical result of the close connection between 
 music, literature and the world of outward events, — thus Men- 
 delssohn's Overture to the Midsummer Night's Dream with its ro- 
 mantic opening chords, his Hebrides Overture, the musical record 
 of a trip to Scotland, and Schumann's Manfred, from Byron. Liszt 
 even went so far as to draw inspiration from a painting, as in his 
 I BatUe of the Huns, and again from a beautiful vase in Orpheus. 
 
 We shall now make a few specific comments on the style of Schu- 
 bert and Weber and then analyze some of their representative works. 
 Schubert was a born composer of songs, and though his works for 
 Pianoforte, String quartet and Orchestra were of marked significance 
 and have proved of lasting value, the instinct for highly individual- 
 ized, lyric melody predominates, and all his instrumental compositions 
 may fairly be called "Songs without words. "^ It is evident that the 
 solo-song, unenciunbered by structural considerations, is one of the 
 best media for expressing the Romantic spirit, and many of its fairest 
 fruits are found in this field. Schubert's songs are often tone-dramas 
 in which the expressive powers of music are most eloquently em- 
 ployed.^ Note the poetic touches of character-drawing and of de- 
 scription in the Young Nun (see Supplement No. 50). Schubert's 
 pianoforte compositions are miniature tone-poems, mood-pictures 
 — their titles: Impromptus and Moments Mu^aux, speak for them- 
 s^yes — making no pretense to the scope and elaborate structure 
 of movements in Sonata-form,* yet of great import not only for their 
 
 •Schubert was of incredible versatility- and fecundity; he literally tried his 
 hand at everything: operas, church-music, ensemble combinations. Since, how- 
 ever, he exercised little power of selection or revision much of this music has be- 
 come obsolete. The joke is well-known that he could set a theatre notice to 
 music, and his rule for composing was " When I have finished one song I b^in 
 another." 
 
 * For an original, though at times rhapsodic, study of Schubert's vocal style 
 see H. T. Finck's Songs and Song Writers, and the last chapter of the Fifth 
 Volume of the Oxford History. 
 
 ' Schubert did compose a number of Pianoforte Sonatas in the conventional 
 form, but with the exception of the one in A minor they seem diffuse and do not 
 represent him at his best ; they certainly have not held their own in modem appeaL 
 
166 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 intrinsic beauty but as the prototypes of the numerous lyric and de- 
 scriptive pieces of Schumann, Brahms, Grieg, Debussy and others. 
 Their charm lies in the heart-felt melodies and surprising modula- 
 tions. While neither sublime nor deeply introspective, they make 
 the simple, direct appeal of a lovely flower. In the development of 
 music they are as important as the modern short story in the field 
 of literature; which, in distinction to the old "three-decker" novel, 
 often really says more and says it so concisely that our interest never 
 flags. This tendency to the short, independent piece had been begun 
 by Beethoven in his Bagatelles (French "trifles"); but these, as has 
 been aptly said, were "mere chips from the work-shop" whereas in 
 a short piece of Schubert we find the quintessence of his genius. He 
 was a prolific composer in the field of chamber music, and the Trios 
 for Violin, 'Cello and Pianoforte, the A minor Quartet, the C major 
 Quintet and, above all, the posthumous Quartet in D minor, which 
 contains the entrancing Variations on the song Death and the Maiden, 
 are still as fresh as when they were composed. In these works we 
 do not look for architectonic power — we must admit, in fact, at the 
 risk of seeming ungracious, that Schubert is diffuse at times — but 
 our senses are so enthralled by the imaginative freedom and by the 
 splendor of color, that all purely intellectual judgment is suspended. 
 The magician works his wonders; it is for us to enjoy. We have from 
 Schubert seven complete Symphonies and the so-called Unfinished 
 in B minor, i. e., the first two movements and the fragment of a 
 Scherzo. Of these the Fourth (Tragic), composed in 1816, fore- 
 shadows the real Schubert and is occasionally heard to-day. But 
 the immortal ones are the B minor and the C major, the latter com- 
 posed in 1828 (the last year of his life) and never heard by its author.* 
 Of this work Schumann said that "a tenth Muse had been added to 
 the nine of Beethoven." This symphony is specially characterized 
 by the incorporation of Hungarian types of melody, particularly 
 in the first and in the last movement. It is indeed a storehouse of 
 beauty, but the "high moments" are in the last two movements — 
 the fairly intoxicating Trio of the Scherzo, which seems as if Nature 
 herself were singing to us, and the gorgeous Finale with its throbbing 
 rhythms. The first movement is laid out on a vast scale and holds 
 the attention throughout, but the second movement, notwithstand- 
 ing its wondrous theme, suffers from a lack of concentration; the 
 sweetness is so long-drawn out that we become sated. 
 
 ' For the account of ita exciting discovery in Vienna by Schumann in 1838, 
 after a neglect of ten years, see the life of Schubert in Grove's Dictionary. 
 
THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS 167 
 
 As examples^ for analytical comment we select the Menuetto in 
 B minor from the Fantasia for Pianoforte, op. 78; the fourth Im- 
 promptu in A-flat major from the set, op. 90, and the B-minor Sym- 
 phony for orchestra. The Menuetto, though one of Schubert's 
 simpler pieces — the first part in an idealized Mozartean vein — yet 
 examplifies in the Trio one of the composer's most characteristic 
 traits, the predilection for those bewitching alternations,^ like sun- 
 light and shadow, between the major and the minor mode. 
 
 The Impromptu in A-flat major, one of several equally fine ones, 
 is notable for the wealth of its irridescent modulations and for the 
 note of genuine pathos and passion in the middle portion in the minor 
 mode. Schubert might well say that his most inspired music came 
 from his sorrows. 
 
 The Unfinished Symphony requires less comment and elucidation 
 than perhaps any other symphonic composition. The two move- 
 ments are in definite Sonata-form — the first, strict, the second, 
 with modifications; but the quahty of the themes is quite different 
 from that to which we have been accustomed in classical treatment. 
 Instead of the terse, characteristic motive which, often at first un- 
 compromisingly bare, impresses us as its latent possibilities are re- 
 vealed, we have a series of lyric, periodic melodies which make their 
 instant appeal. In Schubert everything sings; thus in the first part 
 of the Exposition of the Allegro we have three distinct melodies: the 
 introductory phrase, the accompaniment figure which has a melodic 
 line of its own, and the first theme proper. In any consideration 
 of this work from a pianoforte version we must always remember 
 how much the beauty and eloquence of the themes depend upon the 
 solo instruments to which they are assigned. For Schubert was one 
 of the first, as well as one of the greatest, of "Colorists." By the 
 use of this pictorial term in music we mean that the tone-quahty 
 of certain instruments — the mellow, far-echoing effect of the horn, 
 
 1 For lack of space no one of these compositions is cited in the Supplement, 
 but they are all readily available. 
 
 « This tendency is prevalent in folk-music, especially that of the Russians and 
 Scandinavians. Schubert, however, was the first to make such systematic and 
 artistic use of the effect. For a beautiful modern example see the Spanish folk- 
 dance by Granados, e.ff.. 
 
168 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 the tang of the oboe, the passionate warmth of the clarinet* — appeals 
 to our sense of hearing in the same way in which beautiful colors — 
 the green grass, the blue sky, the hues of a sunset — deUght our sight. 
 A striking example of Schubert's genius in utihzing tone-color to 
 suit structural needs is found in the transition beginning at measure 
 38. This is a single tone on the horn (with a modulatory ending) 
 
 announced forte and then allowed to die away, i. e., sf - 
 
 So powerful is the horn in evoking a spirit of suspense and revery 
 that this tone introduces the beautiful, swaying second theme more 
 impressively than 'a whole series of routine modulations. The De- 
 velopment speaks for itself. Though there is Httle polyphonic treat- 
 ment, it holds our interest by reason of the harmonic variety and 
 the dramatic touches of orchestration. In Schubert we do not look 
 for the development of a complicated plot but give ourselves up 
 umreservedly to the enjoyment of pure melodic Une, couched in terms 
 of sensuously delightful tone-color. The transitional passage of the 
 Recapitulation (measures 231-253) illustrates Schubert's fondness 
 for modulation just for its own sake; we care not what the objective 
 point of the music may be — enthralled, as we are, by the magical 
 shifts of scene. In the Second Movement, likewise, the chief beauty 
 — especially of the second theme — consists in the lyric quality, 
 in the color of the solo instruments, the oboe, clarinet and horn, 
 and in the enharmonic changes, e. g., where, in measures 80-95, the 
 theme modulates from C-sharp minor to D-flat major. Note in the 
 orchestral score the charming dialogue in this passage between the 
 clarinet, oboe and flute. The Development, based upon the second 
 theme, with some effective canonic treatment, shows that Schubert 
 was by no means entirely lacking in polyphonic skill. At any rate 
 he can work wonders with the horn, for at the close of the Develop- 
 ment (measures 134-142) by the simple device of an octave leap, 
 ppp, he veritably transports the listener, e. g. 
 
 Oboe ^ Hobn Klute-^ 
 
 i 
 
 '^Wc T n" 
 
 m 
 
 s 
 
 pp 
 
 decresc. 
 
 i?ft: 
 
 Strings ' 
 
 ' So appropriately called by Berlioz the " heroine of the orchestra." 
 
THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS 
 
 169 
 
 HOKN 
 
 Clakinbt Hokn 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 ^ 
 
 =EF 
 
 ppf> 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -,^ 
 
 i^s 
 
 _y. 
 
 i=^^^ 
 
 p^p 
 
 e 
 
 -J± 
 
 4 
 
 ^^^r 
 
 The Coda has a dream-hke quality all its own. 
 
 Weber's permanent contribution to musical literature has proved to 
 be bis operas — a form of art not treated in this book. But the whole 
 nature of his genius was so closely related to the Romantic spirit, 
 as shown in the intimate connection between literature and music, 
 in his descriptive powers and his development of the orchestra, that for 
 the sake of comprehensiveness some familiarity should be gained with 
 the essential features of his style. Of Weber it may be said with con- 
 viction that there is hardly a composer of acknowledged rank in whom 
 style, i. e., the way and the medium by which musical thought is pre- 
 sented, so prevails over the substance of the thought itself. There 
 are few if any of Weber's melodies which are notable for creative 
 power, and as a harmonist he was lamentably weak. It has been 
 scathingly said, though with considerable truth, that all his melodies 
 are based upon an alternation of tonic and dominant chords !' But 
 when we consider what his themes are meant to describe, the pictures 
 they evoke and their orchestral dress, we must acknowledge in Weber 
 the touch of real poetic genius. To quote Runciman^ — 
 
 "If you look, and look rightly, for the right thing in Weber's 
 music, disappointment is impossible, though I admit that the man 
 who professes to find there the great qualities he finds in Mozart, 
 Beethoven, or any of the giants, must be in a very sad case. Grand- 
 eur, pure beauty, and high expressiveness are alike wanting. Weber's 
 claim to a place amongst the composers is supported in a lesser de- 
 
 1 A striking illustration of this progression (surely Weber's most characteristic 
 mannerism) is naively supplied by Weingartner; when, in his own orchestral 
 arrangement of Weber's Invitation to the Dance, for the final climax he assembles 
 all the leading themes in combination — an effect made possible only by their 
 common harmonic basis. 
 
 ^ This whole article is well worth reading and may be found in that breezy 
 though somewhat erratic volume called Old Scores and New Readings. 
 
170 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 gree by the gifts which he shared, even if his share was small, with 
 the greater masters of music, than by his miraculous power of vividly 
 drawing and painting in music the things that kindled his imagination. 
 Being a factor of the Romantic movement, that mighty rebellion 
 against the tyranny of a world of footrules and ledgers, he lived in 
 a world where two and two might make five or seven or any number 
 you pleased, and where footrules were unknown; he took small in- 
 terest in drama taken out of the lives of ordinary men and enacted 
 amidst everyday surroundings; his imagination lit up only when he 
 thought of haunted glens and ghouls and evil spirits, the fantastic 
 world and life that goes on underneath the ocean, or of men or women 
 held by ghastly spells." 
 
 Weber's present-day fame rests upon the Overtiu-es to his three 
 operas of Der Freischutz, Euryanthe and Oheron, which are often 
 played in detached concert form and hold their own for their roman- 
 tic glow and for the brilliancy of orchestral effect. By employing 
 for his thematic material the leading melodies of the operas them- 
 selves Weber has created what may be called epitomized dramas 
 which, if we have any knowledge of what the titles imply, present 
 us with realistic pictures. For the use of special tone-color to en- 
 hance the dramatic situation Weber is the precursor of that type of 
 orchestration which has reached such heights in Wagner and other 
 moderns. From the above comments it is evident that only the 
 barest idea of the Overtures can be gained from a pianoforte version; 
 we have selected Oheron} because it suffers less than either of the 
 others. Everyone, however, should become famihar with the mys- 
 terious, boding passage in the introduction to Der Freischutz (taken 
 from the scene in the Wolf's Glen) and the Intermezzo from Euryanthe 
 for muted, divided strings,^ which accompanies the apparition of the 
 ghost. This is genuine descriptive music for it really sounds ghostly. 
 (See Supplement No. 51.) 
 
 The Oheron Overture in D major, begins with the intoning of the 
 motto of Oberon's magic horn, and then follows a passage for muted 
 strings (piano e adagio sostenuto) and for dehcate combinations of 
 the wood-wind instruments, which gives us a picture of the moon-lit 
 glens of fairy-land, peopled with airy spirits. The vision is dispelled 
 
 ^ Not given in the Supplement since good arrangements for two and four handa 
 are numerous. To gain the real effect the student is strongly advised to consult 
 the orchestral score. 
 
 ' The genesis of so many similar effects in modern music, notably in Wagner. 
 
THE ROMANTIC COMPOSERS 171 
 
 by a sudden ff chord for full orchestra which, from its setting, is one 
 of the loudest effects in music, thoroughly characteristic of Weber's 
 penchant for dramatic contrast. The main body of the work (allegro 
 con fuoco) opens with a dashing theme for the strings of great bril- 
 hancy, most typical of Weber. Though we may feel that it has 
 little substance (note the tonic and dominant foundation of the 
 harmony) we cannot be insensible to its abounding vigor. It is not 
 alone the ponderous things which should move our imaginations; 
 even a soap-bubble is a wonderful phenomenon. The theme is ex- 
 panded to a climax, in measure 28 (counting from the allegro), of 
 great sonority and considerable harmonic boldness. After some 
 reminiscent appearances of the introductory horn-caU, a long-sus- 
 tained dominant note introduces the second theme which seems a 
 bit cloying, to be sure, but is just suited to the melting tone-color 
 of the clarinet. The closing theme borders on triviahty; the Ex- 
 position ends, however, with some exceedingly briUiant improvisa- 
 tions on the rhythmic figure of the main theme. The following 
 Development is rather flimsy and we need expend upon it no critical 
 powder. Weber was a great colorist but not a great architect. 
 These qualities are united only too seldom. In the Recapitulation, 
 which is shortened by the omission of the second theme — rather 
 overworked in the Development — he is once more on his own ground 
 of rhythmic life and dazzling orchestral color. At the close we are 
 convinced that the overture has accompHshed its purpose of graphi- 
 cally depicting the revels of Fairy -land. 
 
 Although they are seldom' played to-day, no account of Weber 
 would be complete which entirely passed over his compositions for 
 the Pianoforte, i. e., the four Sonatas, the concert piece in F minor 
 and the originally conceived Inmiation to the Dance, often played in 
 the orchestral version of Berlioz which is so much better than the 
 inflated, bombastic one by Weingartner. Weber is classed as one 
 of the founders of the "brilliant school" of pianoforte playing which, 
 chiefly through the genius of Franz liszt, has done so much to en- 
 large the sonorous and coloristic possibihties of the instnunent. 
 Here again Weber's fame rests more upon his influence than upon 
 lasting achievement; as to the importance of this influence, however, 
 there can be no doubt. 
 
 1 Perhaps the whirligig of time may restore them; who can say? 
 
172 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The student will be repaid for informing^ himself as fully as 
 possible concerning Weber's career and artistic ideals, for he was 
 a genuine though early exponent of Romantic tendencies. Of 
 marked versatility, of no mean literary skill and of such social mag- 
 netism and charm that he might properly be considered a man of the 
 world, as well as an artist, Weber was thus enabled to do pioneer 
 work in raising the standard of musicianship and in bringing the 
 art of music and ordinary, daily life into closer touch. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 TN distinction from pioneers like Schubert, slightly tinged with 
 •*■ Romanticism, and Weber who, though versatile, was somewhat 
 lacking in creative vigor, Schumann (1810-1856) stands forth as the 
 definite, conscious spokesman of the Romantic movement in Ger- 
 man art just as Berlioz was for art in France. He was endowed with 
 hterary gifts of a high order, had a keen critical and historical sense 
 and wrote freely and convincingly in support of his own views and 
 in generous recoginition of the ideals of his contemporaries. Many 
 of his swans, to be sure, proved later to be geese, and it is debatable 
 how much good was done by his rhapsodic praise to young Brahms; 
 whether in fact he did not set before the youngster a chimerical ideal 
 impossible of attainment. Schumann early came under the influence 
 of Jean Paul Richter, that incarnation of German Romanticism, 
 whom he placed on the same high plane asShakespeareandBeethoven. 
 An intimate appreciation of much that is fantastic and whimsical 
 in Schumann is possible only through acquaintance with the work 
 of this Jean Paul. Schumann's first compositions were for the piano- 
 forte — in fact his original ambition^ was to be a pianoforte virtuoso 
 — and to-day his permanent significance depends on the spontaneity 
 in conception and the freedom of form manifested in these piano- 
 
 ' The life in Grove's Dictionary is well worth while ; there are essays by 
 Krehbiel and others and, above all, the biographical and critical accounts in the 
 two French series: Les Musidens CM^bres, and Les MaUres de la Mtisique. 
 
 ' Because of an unfortunate accident to one of his fingers this ambition, how- 
 ever, had to be abandoned. The world thereby gained a great composer. 
 
SCHDMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 173 
 
 forte works and in his romantic songs. Here we have the "ipsissimus 
 Schumann," as von Billow so well remarks. Schumann's pianoforte 
 style is compounded of two factors: first, his intensely subjective 
 and varied imagination which, nourished by the love of Romantic 
 literature, craved an individual mode of expression; second, a power 
 of concentration and of organic structure which was largely derived 
 from a study of Bach and of the later works of Beethoven. Schumann 
 saw that the regularity of abstract form, found in the purely classical 
 writers, was not suited to the full expression of his moods and so he 
 worked out a style of his own, although in many cases this was simply 
 a logical amplification or modification of former practice. In his 
 pianoforte compositions, then, we find a striking freedom in the choice 
 of subject, which is generally indicated by some poetically descriptive 
 title, e. g., Waidscenen, Nachtstuclce, Fantasiestiicke, Novelletten, 
 Kreisleriana, Humoreske, etc. The danger in this form of subject 
 matter is that it often degenerates into sentimentality coupled with 
 a corresponding spinelessness of structure. This danger Schumann 
 avoids by a style noticeable for terseness and structural soUdity. 
 His effort was to give significance to every note; all verbiage, mean- 
 ingless scale passages and monotonous arpeggios were swept away, 
 while the imagination was aroused by the bold use of dissonances 
 and by the variety of tone-color. A thoroughly novel feature was 
 the flexibility of the rhythm, which breaks from the old "sing-so:'^*' 
 metres and abounds in syncopations, in contrasted accents, and in 
 subtle combinations of metrical groups; every effort being made to 
 avoid the tyranny of the bar-Une. 
 
 Schumann's career was pecuHar in that, beginning as a piano- 
 forte composer, he tried successively every other form as well — the 
 song, chamber music, works for orchestra, and for orchestra with solo 
 voices and chorus — and won distinction to a greater or less degree 
 in every field save that of the opera. Notwithstanding the beauty 
 of poetic inspiration enshrined in the four symphonies, a grave defect 
 is the quality of orchestral tone which greets the ear, especially the 
 modern ear accustomed to the many-hued sonority of Wagner, 
 Tchaikowsky, Debussy and others. These symphonies have been 
 called "huge pieces for four hands" which were afterwards orches- 
 trated, and the allegation is not without truth, as real orchestral glow 
 and brilliancy is so often lacking. Each one, however, has notable 
 features, e. g., the sublime Adagio of the 2d, and the touching Ro- 
 mauza of the 4th, and each is worthy of study; for Schumann in 
 
174 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 certain aspects furnishes the best avenue of approach to the modern 
 school. In the Fourth Symphony he obliterates the pauses between 
 the movements and fuses them all together; calling it a Symphony 
 "in einem Satze" and anticipating the very same procedure that 
 Schonberg follows in his String Quartet which has had recent 
 vogue. Schumann's chief contribution to the development of the 
 German Song lay in the pianoforte part, which with Schubert and 
 Mendelssohn might properly be called an accompaniment, however 
 rich and varied. But in Schumann the pianoforte attains to a real 
 independence of style, intensifying in the most subtle and delicate 
 way every shade of poetic feeling in the text. In fact, it is often 
 used to reveal some deep meaning beyond the expressive power of 
 words. This is seen in the closing measures of "Moonlight" 
 where the voice ceases in suspense, and the instrument completes 
 the eloquence of the message. Schumann's great achievement as 
 a literary man was his founding, in 1834, of the Neue Zeitschrift fur 
 Musik, to which he himself contributed many stimulating and sug- 
 gestive essays, opposing with might and main the Philistinism which 
 so pervaded the music of his time. He even established an imagin- 
 ary club, called the Davidsbund, to storm the citadel of Philistia. 
 
 The best eulogy of Schumann is the recognition that many of the 
 tendencies in modern music, which we now take for granted, date 
 from him: the exaltation of freedom and fancy over mere formal 
 presentation, the union of broad culture with musical technique, 
 a;nd the recognition of music as the art closest in touch' with the 
 aspirations of humanity. He was an idealist with such persever- 
 ance and clearness of aim that his more characteristic work can 
 never die. 
 
 Des Abends. 
 
 The Fantasiestucke^, op. 12, of which this piece is the first, amply 
 justify their title, for they abound in soaring thoughts, in fantastic, 
 whimsical imaginings and in novel modes of utterance and structure. 
 Every number of the set is a gem. In der Nacht being perhaps the 
 most poetic of Schumann's short pieces for the pianoforte. They 
 are thoroughly pianistic and evoke from the instrument all its possi- 
 bilities of sonority and color. In point of texture they illustrate 
 that happy combination, which Schumann worked out, of lyric melo- 
 
 ' As the music is readily procurable the student should make himself familiar 
 with the entire set. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 175 
 
 dies on a firmly knit polyphonic basis. They are also programmistic 
 in so far as Schumann believed in music of that type. There is no 
 attempt to teU a detailed story or to have the music correspond 
 literaUy to definite incidents. The titles merely afford a verbal clue 
 to the general import and atmosphere of the music. Thus in regard 
 to the piece under consideration, the mere mention of eventide is 
 supposed to be enough to stimulate thought in any one with 
 a sensitive imagination, and the music is a suggestive expression 
 of Schumann's own intimate reveries. The piece is in extended two- 
 part form — each part repeated — and rounded out with an eloquent 
 Coda. The rhythmic scheme is of particular significance for it illus- 
 trates not only the composer's fondness for inventing new combina- 
 tions, but, as well, suggests most delicately the mood of the piece. 
 It would evidently be false art to write a piece, entitled Evening, 
 in a vigorous, arousing rhythm, such as might be associated with 
 a noon-day sun, when we often see the heat-waves dancing over the 
 fields. On the other hand Schumann, by a subtle blending of triple 
 time in the main upper melody and duple time in the lower, suggests 
 that hazy indefiniteness appropriate to the time of day when the 
 life of Nature seems momentarily subsiding and everything sinking 
 
 to rest, e. g. 
 
 1 
 
 In many measures of the second part (i. e., 21-24) the accent is so 
 disguised that it seems as if we were in a twilight revery, quite apart 
 from matters of time and space. 
 
 Wakum? 
 
 This piece is a happy illustration of the intensity of meaning and the 
 conciseness of structure which Schumann gained by the application 
 of polyphonic imitation. It is difficult to say exactly what Warum 
 signifies. It was characteristic of the Romantic unrest of the German 
 mind to question everything — especially "Why am I not more 
 
176 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 happy in love?" The motto may be considered a Carlyle-like "ever- 
 lasting why." At any rate the composition is an example of music 
 speaking more plainly than words; for no one can fail to recognize 
 the haunting appeal in the theme with its long-drawn out final note 
 after the upward leap. It is a real musical question, e. g. 
 
 ^^m 
 
 p- 
 
 Grillen, the next piece in the set, deserves careful study. It is 
 too long to present as a whole, but we cite the middle part (See Supple- 
 ment No. 52) as it is such a convincing example of syncopated effect 
 (i. e., the persistent placing of the accent on weak beats), and of 
 elasticity in the metric scheme. 
 
 Novellette in E major. 
 
 This piece illustrates thevigorandmassivenessof Schumann'spiano- 
 forte style. Note the sonority gained by the use of widely spaced 
 chords. For the brilliant effect demanded, there should be a liberal 
 use of the damper pedal.' We likewise find, beginning with the third 
 brace, some characteristic polyphonic imitations which give to the 
 movement a remarkable concentration. In the middle contrasting 
 portion it seems as if Schumann had taken a leaf out of Chopin's book 
 — a beautiful, lyric melody floating pn an undercurrent of sonorous, 
 arpeggio chords. The theme is presented in dialogue form, first in 
 the upper voice, next in an inner voice and finally in the bass. (See 
 Supplement No. 53.) 
 
 Song, Mondnacht. 
 
 No estimate of Schumann would be fair or comprehensive without 
 some mention of his songs; upon which, together with his pianoforte 
 compositions, his immortality tends more and more to rest. Notwith- 
 standing the many poetic and dramatic touches in Schubert's accom- 
 paniments, those of Schumann are on the whole more finely wrought; 
 for he had the advantage of Schubert in being, himself, a pianist 
 of high attainment, thoroughly versed in pianistic effects. His 
 imagination was also more sensitive to subtle shades of meaning 
 in the text and he was inspired by the wonderful lyrics of Heine, 
 Eichendorff and Chamisso who in Schubert's day had written very 
 
 1 A beautiful contrast may be iqa4e by playing the section in F major with the 
 "pia corda " pedal throughout. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 177 
 
 little. Special features of Schumann's songs are the instrumental 
 preludes and postludes, the prelude establishing just the right set- 
 ting for the import of the words and the postlude commenting on the 
 beautiful message which the voice has just delivered. In Mondnackt, 
 for example, (as previously mentioned) , note how the voice stops in 
 suspense and in what an eloquent revery the accompaniment com- 
 pletes the picture. (See Supplement No. 54.) 
 
 Overture to Manfred. 
 
 This Overture, the first of a set of incidental numbers which Schu- 
 mann composed to illustrate Byron's dramatic poem, represents some 
 of his most typical inspiration, and so is well worthy of our study. 
 The music is labored at times, especially in the Development, and the 
 orchestration is often dry and stereotyped. But the conception was 
 a powerful one, and there is a genuine correspondence between 
 the natiu-e of the music and the spirit of the poem. It is evident 
 that the subject made a deep impression on Schxunann, whose own 
 imagination, addicted to mysterious and even morbid broodings, 
 was strongly akin to that of Byron's fictitious character. The 
 composition is program music of the subjective order, comparable 
 to Beethoven's Coriolanus, i. e., the themes are dramatic character- 
 izations: the first typifing the stormy nature of Manfred; the second, 
 with its note of pleading, the mysterious influence over the recluse 
 of the spirit of Astarte. As in all works of this kind the music cannot 
 be readily appreciated without a knowledge of the poem which it 
 illustrates.^ As for the structure, Schumann clings too closely to 
 the Sonata-form. The music is eloquent just in proportion as he 
 gives his fancy free rein; where he tries to force the themes into an 
 arbitrary mould, the result is unsatisfactory — especially the devel- 
 opment, which is neither very dramatic nor interesting from a purely 
 musical point of view. The work opens with three spasmodic syn- 
 copated^ chords, and then follow twenty-four measures (lento and 
 at first pianissimo) of a preludial nature with suggestions of the 
 Manfred theme. The movement becomes gradually faster and more 
 impassioned until, in measure 26, we reach the presentation of the 
 first theme (allegro agitato) which, with its frequent syncopations, 
 
 * The poem is easily procured in a volume of Everyman's Library. 
 
 ' These chords are an amusing example of a "paper effect," for unless you 
 watch the conductor's beat, it is impossible to feel the syncopation. There being 
 no first beat proper, the chords are syncopated against the air! 
 
178 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 is characteristic of Manfred's restless nature. The transition begins 
 in measure 39; at first with a repetition of the main theme, which 
 soon modulates to F-sharp minor, in which key the second theme 
 enters, in measure 51. This theme — in three portions — seems to 
 embody different aspects of the feminine influence of Astarte. The 
 first portion, measures 51-61, with its undulating, chromatic outline, 
 may be said to typify the haunting apparition so real to Manfred's 
 imagination and yet so intangible; the second, 62-67, contains a note 
 of impassioned protest, 'and the third, 68-77, is a love message of 
 tender consolation. If this interpretation seem too subjective, a 
 careful reading of the drama where Astarte appears (pp. 284-285 
 in the Everyman's Edition) will, we believe, corroborate it. The 
 rest of the Exposition consists in a treatment of the Astarte motive, 
 primarily of a musical nature; though there is a real dramatic in- 
 tensity in measures 96-103, which are an expansion of the love 
 message with its characteristic "appogiatura." The Development, 
 beginning in measure 132, is a striking example of how difficult it was 
 — even for an exponent of freedom in musical expression like Schu- 
 mann — to break loose from the shackles of arbitrary form. The 
 musical thought is kept in motion, to be sure, but that is about all; 
 for the treatment is often very labored, and nothing is added to the 
 dramatic picture. The world had to await the work of Tchaikow- 
 sky, and Strauss for a satisfactory adjustment"- between the de- 
 mands of dramatic fitness and the needs of musical structure. In 
 the Coda, beginning measure 258, Schumann — now that he is free 
 from considerations of structure — gains a dramatic effect of truly 
 impressive power. The horns, supported by trumpets and trombones, 
 intone a funeral dirge of touching solemnity (evidently suggested 
 by the closing death scene of the drama) while, above, hover portions 
 of the Astarte motive, as if even in his death her influence was para- 
 mount in Manfred's imagination, e. g. 
 
 ' For pertinent comments on this point see Newman's essay on Program Music, 
 pp. 134-135, in his Mtmcal Studies. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 179 
 
 ^8 
 
 =F \ <^ 
 
 ete. 
 
 tip 
 
 i 
 
 '# 
 
 Notwithstanding certain blemishes, this Overture at the time of its 
 composition was a landmark in the development of program music, 
 and if to our modern tastes it seems a bit antiquated, this is largely 
 because of the great progress which has since been made.i 
 
 Symphony in D Minor. 
 
 This Symphony is selected from Schumann's four, both for the 
 pecuhar romantic beauty of its themes and because the form in which 
 it is cast makes it an important connecting Unk between the freedom 
 of structure, instituted by Beethoven, and the Symphonic Poem of 
 liszt and other modern composers. AU of Schumann's symphonies 
 contain genuine beauties and should be famUiar to the cultivated 
 musician. Perhaps the first in B-flat major is the most sustained, 
 and it has a freshness and buoyancy summed up in its title, the 
 Spring, by which it is popularly known. The exuberance of the 
 Finale is pure Schumann and is expressed with an orchestral eloquence 
 in which he was frequently lacking.'' The Second Symphony is 
 notable for its sublime Adagio, Schumann's love-song — comparable 
 to the slow movement of Beethoven's Fourth. At some future day, 
 conductors will have the courage to play this movement by itself 
 like a magnificent Torso, for indubitably the other movements have 
 aged beyond recall. The Third Symphony, known as the Rhenish 
 (composed when Schumann was living at Diisseldorf on the Rhine) 
 is significant for its incorporation of popular melodies from the 
 Rhineland, and for the movement, scored chiefly for trombones and 
 other brass instruments, which gives a picture of some ceremonial 
 occasion in the Cologne Cathedral. 
 
 1 In studying this work consult, if possible, the orchestral score. For those who 
 need a condensed two-hand arrangement, the Litolff edition is to be recommended. 
 
 ^ It is more than a matter of mere chronology to realize that the D minor Sym- 
 phony was composed in the same year as the B-flat major. It was afterwards re- 
 vised and published as No. 4, but the vitality and spontaneity of its themes come 
 from the first gush of Schumann's inspiration. 
 
180 MUSIC: AN ART AOT) A LANGUAGE 
 
 The Fourth Symphony is an uneven work, for there are many 
 places where Schumann's constructive power was unequal to his 
 ideal conceptions. We often can see the joints, and the structure 
 — in places — resembles a rag-carpet rather than the organic texture 
 of an oriental rug. But the spontaneous outpouring of melody 
 touches our emotions and well-nigh disarms criticism. Schumann 
 had constantly been striving for a closer relationship' between the 
 conventional movements of the symphony; and his purpose, in the 
 structural treatment adopted, is indicated by the statement published 
 in the full score — "Introduction, Allegro, Romanze, Scherzo und 
 Finale in einem Satze" i. e., the work is to be considered as a continuous 
 whole and not broken up into arbitrary movements with rigid pauses 
 between. The long drawn-out Introduction,^ with its mysterious 
 harmonies, leads us into the land of romance, and a portion of 
 this introduction is happily carried over and repeated in the Ro- 
 manze. The First movement proper, from Lebhaft, seems at first 
 as if it were to be in the customary Sonata-form; the Exposition 
 beginning with two themes in the normal relationship of minor and 
 relative major, though to be sure the second theme is more of a sup- 
 plementary expansion of the first than one which provides a strong 
 contrast. But after the double bar and repeat, this first theme is de- 
 veloped in a free preludial manner as if it were continually leading 
 up to a climax. We are finally rewarded by a new theme of great 
 warmth which amply makes up for any lack of individuality in the 
 second theme proper, e. g. 
 
 Violins 
 
 p dolce 
 
 The rest of the movement consists of additional improvisations, 
 rather too rigidly sectionalized, on the first theme and a second 
 appearance of the interpolated theme. This theme, with rhythmic 
 modifications, serves also as the basis for the brilliant Coda; for there 
 is no Recapitulation proper, and it is evident that the movement is 
 
 1 We find traces of this tendency in the First Symphony, where the Slow 
 Movement and the Scherzo are linked together, likewise in the Second, where 
 the motto of the first movement is repeated at the end of the Scherzo. 
 
 ^ The analysis is based, as usual, on the orchestral score j for class-room study 
 ther$ ^r^ excellent editions for two and four hands. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 181 
 
 an extended prelude for what is to come — a first portion of the 
 work as a whole. After a dramatic pause,^ which enhances the 
 feeling of expectancy (so prominent in the first movement) followed 
 by a sustained modulatory chord, the Romanze begins with a plain- 
 tive theme in A minor. The mood is that of an idealized serenade, 
 and in the original score the accompaniment for the oboe melody was 
 given to the guitar^ to secure the appropriate atmosphere. After the 
 first statement of the theme there is an interpolated quotation of the 
 charateristic passage from the introduction, which serves to bind the 
 movements together both in structure and in relationship of mood. 
 The movement is in clear-cut three-part form and the middle 
 contrasting section in the major mode reveals a sustained descending 
 melody played by the body of strings, which is delicately embellished 
 by an obhgato variant given to a solo violin, e. g. 
 
 Solo. Violin 
 
 p dolce 
 1st Violins 
 
 It 
 
 -^ 
 
 f) dolce 
 
 =t 
 
 At first the 'cellos, also, re-enforce this melody. 
 
 • Concert-goers may well be reminded that there should be no applause between 
 the movements of this work. One of the most pernicious ideas of the public is 
 that as soon as the music ceases, handclapping should begin; whereas a complete 
 silence is often the very means the composer employs for intensifying what has 
 been said and preparing for what is to come. Let us ponder the cryptic remark 
 attributed to Mozart that " the rests in music are more important than the notes." 
 
 2 This was afterwards withdrawn as impracticable. What a pity that Schumann 
 wrote before' the harp as a member of the orchestra had come into its own. For 
 the mood which he was trying to establish compare the scoring of this Romanza 
 with that in the Slow movement of Franck's Symphony. 
 
182 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The effect is that of an ethereal voice commenting on the beauty of 
 the main theme. This obhgato part is of special significance, since 
 with rhythmic change it forms the chief theme of the Trio in the fol- 
 lowing movement. The Romanze closes with a simple retm-n to the 
 plaintive oboe melody, this time in D minor. The tonality is pur- 
 posely indefinite to accentuate the wistful feeHng of the movement 
 — the last chords having the suspense of a dominant ending. After 
 a short pause we are at once whirled into the dashing Scherzo which 
 seems to represent the playfid badinage of a Rpmantic lover. The 
 Trio affords a delightful reminiscence of the Romanze and, from a 
 structural point of view, is an early example of the principle of 
 "transformation of theme"i which plays so important a role in the 
 works of Liszt, Franck, Tchaikowsky and Dvorak. For the melody, 
 e.g.. 
 
 Violins 
 
 Allegro ^ .^^ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 |=i-jf- 
 
 Ni=F= 
 
 r-tr^-n= 
 
 p::i=t 
 
 w 
 
 p dolce 
 
 is a rhythmic variant of the former obligato of the solo violin, and 
 has this characteristic, which gives a peculiar note of surprise, that 
 it always begins on the third beat of the measure. Following' a 
 repetition of the Scherzo the movement ends eloquently with a coda- 
 like return to the Trio which, after some modulatory changes, is 
 
 ^ In Brahms, who was something of a conservative as to freedom of form, 
 there is a striking example in the connection between the second movement and 
 the Finale of the Third Symyhony. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 183 
 
 broken up into detached fragments, seeming to vanish into thin air. 
 There is no pause between the end of the Scherzo and the introduction, 
 based on the theme of the first movement, which ushers in the Finale. 
 This movement is in Sonata-form with a modified Recapitulation 
 — i. e., the first theme is not repeated — and with a passionate closing 
 theme, e. g.. 
 
 C1.AKINETS AND Bassoons 
 
 to/t=i- 
 
 which atones for the intentional incompleteness with which the first 
 movement ends. The main theme is a compound of a vigorous march- 
 Uke motive, closely related to one of the subsidiary phrases of the 
 first movement, and a running figure in the bass — the derivation of 
 which is obvious. After a rather labored transition! — surely the 
 most mechanical passage in the whole work — we are rewarded by a 
 melody of great buoyancy and rhythmic Hfe, e. g. 
 
 Stkings and Wood-wind 
 
 m 
 
 ^i^ 
 
 ■#-i- 
 
 :^^ 
 
 m 
 
 g ^T j i I ^ =N 
 
 pdolce 
 
 etc. 
 
 The free Fantasie begins with a contrapuntal working-out of a figure 
 taken from the first theme, but it sufFers from a persistent emphasis 
 on what, after all, is an uninteresting rhythm J. 5 J J J. 3 J J ; 
 there is, furthwmore, a rigid grouping of the phrases in twos and 
 fours. Schumann's instinct was a wise one in omitting the main 
 theme of the Recapitulation and in leading, as soon as possible, to 
 the repetition of the delightful second theme — the gem of the move- 
 ment — which now makes its orthodox appearance in the tonic. 
 After some ejaculatory measures, which remind us of the beginning of 
 the Development, we have the impassioned closing theme, referred to 
 above,* which ushers in the free and brilliant Coda, worked up' con- 
 trapuntally with ever increasing speed. The movement ends with 
 
 I Schumaim was a true poet in the spontaneity of his themes, but often an un« 
 successful architect when connecting them. 
 
184 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGJW 
 
 Schumannesque syncopations. The D minor Symphony, thus, 
 although not a perfect work of art, is a significant one and repays 
 intimate study. A long life may safely be predicted for it by reason 
 of the fervor and charm of its melodies. An important historical 
 status it will always hold, for it is the honorable ancestor of such great 
 symphonies as Cesar Franck's in D minor and Tchaikowsky's in E 
 minor, in which we find the same freedom of form and the same 
 fusion of material attempted by Schumann.' 
 
 Closely connected with Schumann, chronologically and also by 
 certain executive associations, e.g., the Leipsic Conservatory, is the 
 career of Mendelssohn (1809-1847). There was much in common 
 between the two; they both were extremely versatile, of strong literary 
 bent and naturally drawn to the same media of expression: pianoforte, 
 solo voices and orchestra. And yet, so dissimilar were the underlying 
 strains in their temperaments that their compositions, as an expres- 
 sion of their personalities, show little in common. Schumann, as we 
 have seen, was fantastic, mystical, a bold, independent thinker, the 
 quintessence of the Romantic spirit. Mendelssohn, on the other 
 hand, though not lacking in poetic fancy and warmth, was cautious 
 — a born conservative; and his early classical training, together with 
 the opulent circumstances of his Hfe, served as a natural check upon 
 the freedom of genius. His dazzUng precocity — witness the Mid- 
 summer Night's Dream Overtiu-e, composed while he was in his 
 seventeenth year — and a great popular success were surely not the 
 best stimuU to make him delve into the depths of his imagination. 
 Undoubtedly he did a valuable service, in his day, in uniting the 
 leading tendencies of the two schools: the exuberant fancy of the 
 Romantic, and the reserve and finish of the Classic. He has been 
 aptly called a "Romanticist with a classical equipment." If any 
 appraisement be necessary to the detriment of one or the other, it 
 must be conceded that Schumann was the greater genius. A just 
 estimate of Mendelssohn's work is difficult, for his career was so 
 meteoric and in his life he was so overvalued that now, with the 
 opposite swing of the pendulum, he is as often underrated. He was 
 assuredly a great artist, for what he had to say was beautifully 
 expressed; the question hinges on the actual worth of the message. 
 With perfect finish there often goes a lack of power and Jbjective 
 
 ' For a detailed and illuminating study of this symphony and of Schumann's 
 style in general see the last essay in Preludes and Studies by W. J. Henderson. 
 Another excellent essay may be found in Studies in Modem Musichj W. H. Hadow. 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 185 
 
 energy; somewhat the same difference that we feel between skillful 
 gardening and the free vitality of Nature. Although Mendelssohn's 
 music delights and charms there is a prevaihng lack of that deep 
 emotion which alone can move the soul. And yet a composer whom 
 Wagner called "the greatest of landscape painters" and whose best 
 works have stood the test of time can by no means be scorned. His 
 descriptive Overtures for orchestra: the Hebrides, the Midsummer 
 Night's Dream and the Fair Melusine; his Variations S6rieuses for 
 Pianoforte and some of the Songs vnikout Words^ contain a genuinely 
 poetic message, flawlessly expressed. As for the pianoforte music, 
 when the Songs without Words are called "hackneyed" we must 
 remember that only compositions of truly popular appeal ever have 
 sufficient vogue to warrant the appUcation of this opprobrious term. 
 In the pianoforte Scherzos and in the Rondo Capriccioso in E major 
 there is without doubt a vitahty and a play of fancy easier to criticize 
 than to create. The prevalent mood in Mendelssohn's music is one 
 of sunny -hearted Ughtness and emotional satisfaction; and it this be 
 a one-sided presentation of hfe, it is no more so, as Pratt well says in 
 his History of Music, than the picture of gloom and sorrow which 
 certain other composers continually emphasize. The fact that his 
 descriptive Overtures, just mentioned, have been surpassed — 
 owing to the recent expansion in orchestral possibihties of tone- 
 color — must not bHnd us to the beauty of their content, or make us 
 forget the impetus they have given to modern composers. No one 
 could possibly find in the Hebrides Overture that subtle descriptive 
 fancy or that wealth of orchestral coloring which exists in Debussy's 
 marvellous Sea Pieces; and yet the Mendelssohn composition is a 
 genuine; reflection of nature in terms of music and can still be heard 
 with sustained attention. Wagner'' praises highly its orchestral 
 effects; and a modern scholar, Cecil Forsyth,' considers the tone-paint- 
 ing quite irresistible. A sincere tribute of admiration should also be 
 paid to Mendelssohn's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra. Written 
 in the most idiomatic style for the solo instrument and containing 
 
 ^ Several of these were constantly played by both Paderewski and De Fachman, 
 two of the greatest virtuosi of our day : surely a convincing tribute ! 
 
 * See the Oxford History of Mime, "Vol. VI, pp. 80-84. Anyone who cares to 
 see what Wagner owed to Mendelssohn may compare the opening theme, and its 
 treatment, of the Fair Melusine Overture with the music of the Rhine Maidens in 
 the Rheingold. 
 
 • See his treatise on Orchestration, p. 194. 
 
186 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 real violin melodies it is still one of the few great works in its class. 
 Any final critical estimate of Mendelssohn — no matter how earnest 
 the effort to be absolutely fair — is inevitably involved with personal 
 prejudices. If his music appeals to any one, it is liked extremely 
 and no one need be ashamed of enjoying it, for it is sincerely felt 
 and beautifully expressed. Mendelssohn, himself, doubtless knew 
 perfectly well that he was not Bach, Beethoven or Schubert. For 
 those whose natures crave a more robust message, more fire and a 
 deeper passion, there are the works of those other composers to which 
 they may turn. 
 
 Let us now analyze the Midsummer Night's Dream Overture, i 
 "his first and highest flight" to quote Schumann. In this work we 
 do not find a characterization by musical means of the emotions of 
 the dramatis personae, as in the Coriolanus Overture; and there is 
 little specific correspondence between the type of theme and definite 
 incidents, except possibly at the beginning of the Recapitulation, 
 where the low tones of the Bass Tuba^ may be thought to represent 
 the snores of Bottom, as the fairies hover about him. Anyone 
 familiar with Shakespeare's play — and sudi a knowledge is in- 
 dispensible for a complete enjoyment of the music — will see that 
 Mendelssohn's object was to give a broad, general picture of the 
 fairy world and to intensify, by his music, the fancy and humor found 
 in the play. The introductory sustained chords, pianissimo, are a 
 happy illustration of his deftness in tone-painting; for, assigned to 
 the ethereal flutes and clarinets, they constitute, as Niecks ingeni- 
 ously expresses it, a "magic formula" which ushers us into the moon- 
 lit realm of fairyland. The first theme in E-minor (Allegro di molto: 
 throughout pp and staccato), announced by the strings, is a graphic 
 representation of the playful antics of the nimble elves and fairies. 
 Its course is twice interrupted by a peculiar, prolonged chord which 
 seems to say, "Hush ! you are listening to the activities of beings not 
 of this every -day, humdrum world." The first theme has a second 
 part in E major (beginning at measure 62) of a pompous, march- 
 Uke nature, which may be thought to represent the dignity of Duke 
 Theseus and his train. The Overture being in complete Sonata-form, 
 
 * This is exceptionally eflfective in the four-hand version — in fact, it was often 
 played as a pianoforte duet by his sister Fanny and himself — although the real 
 poetic effect is inseparably connected with the orchestral treatment. 
 
 2 Originally these tones were played by the Ophicleide or Serpent (now 
 obsolete). 
 
SCHUMANN AND MENDELSSOHN 
 
 187 
 
 there occurs at this point a short transition based on the rhythm of 
 the first theme; followed by a lovely cantabile melody — the second 
 theme proper — that typifies the romantic love pervading the play. 
 This theme also is expanded into several sections; the first of which 
 may portray the clownish Athenian tradespeople, and the second, 
 the brays of Bottom after he has been transformed into an ass, e. g. 
 
 IrA 
 
 m 
 
 t^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 r^.T^^ ' 
 
 iif* — ^ 
 
 m 
 
 !^i I J ' J 
 
 The free fantasia, an improvisation on the first theme — although 
 containing a few perfunctory manipulations — sustains interest, 
 as a whole, by its modulations and by the suggestive orchestral 
 effects. The closing measures, where the pizzicato 'cellos and double 
 basses seem to imitate the light, tripping footsteps of the elves, is 
 genuinely realistic. The Recapitulation, which begins with the 
 same chords as the Introduction, is an illustration of bondage to 
 classic practise; for here they have no dramatic significance and are 
 merely a concession to routine procedure.' The first theme and the 
 transition, however, are effectively abridged so that the second theme, 
 by far the most appealing in the whole work, stands out in greater 
 prominence. Then follows a brUhant expansion of the closing 
 portions of the second theme, until we reach the Coda. This begins 
 with a reminiscence of the first theme which fades away into a modi- 
 fied presentation of the Duke Theseus theme, followed by four long- 
 drawn out Amens.'' These may signify the blessing which, in the 
 play, the elves bestow upon the Ducal house. The Introductory 
 chords dissolve the dream which the music has evoked, and we are 
 back once more in the world of reality. 
 
 1 This, after all, is a rather subtle point for a boy of seventeen to be called 
 upon to consider. Perhaps if he had been that kind of a boy he might not have 
 written the Overture at all ! 
 
 2 The ecclesiastical formula for an Amen being the so-called Plagal cadence of 
 subdominant and tonic chords. 
 
188 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 To suggest the attitude which we of to-day should take towards 
 Mendelssohn — he may justly be admired as a musician of great 
 natural gifts, of high ideals and of unusually finished technique in 
 many branches of composition. It is ungracious to censure him 
 because he lacks the gripping emotional power of a Beethoven or a 
 Wagner. Those who indulge in such narrow criticism condemn only 
 themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 
 
 A LTHOUGH Chopin (1809-1849) was less aggressively romantic 
 ■^ *■ than others of the group we have been considering, in many 
 respects his music represents the romantic spirit in its fairest bloom. 
 Not even yet has full justice been done him — although his fame is 
 growing — since he is often considered as a composer of mere "salon- 
 pieces' ' which, though captivating, are too gossamer-like to merit serious 
 attention. Chopin was a life-long student of Bach; and much of 
 his music, in its closeness of texture, shows unmistakably the influence 
 of that master. Together with Schumann, he broke away from the 
 strict formality of the old classic forms and instituted the reign of 
 freely conceived tone-poems for the pianoforte: the form being con- 
 ditioned by the poetic feelings of the composer. As far as funda- 
 mental principles of architecture are concerned, his pieces are gener- 
 ally simple, modeled as they are on the two and three-part form and 
 that of the rondo. When he attempted works of large scope, where 
 varied material had to be held together, he was lamentably deficient, 
 e. g., in his Sonatas. In fact, even in such pieces as the Etudes and 
 Scherzos, in the presentation of the material we find occasional 
 blemishes. But there are so many other wonderful qualities that 
 this weakness may be overlooked. In spite of a certain deficiency 
 in form, Chopin is indisputably a great genius. Far too much stress 
 has been laid on the deUcacy of his style to the exclusion of the in- 
 tensity and bold dramatic power that characterize much of his music 
 
CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 189 
 
 to a marked degree. Though of frail physique,* and though living 
 in an environment which tended to overdevelop his fastidious nature, 
 Chopin had a fiery soul, which would assert itself with unmistakable 
 force. His music by no means consists solely of melting moods or 
 languorous sighs; he had a keen instinct for the dissonant element 
 (witness passages in the G minor Ballade) ; he was a daring harmonic 
 innovator; and much of his music is surcharged with tragic signifi- 
 cance. A born stylist, he nevertheless did not avoid incessant labor 
 to secure the acme of finish. So perfect in his works is the balance 
 between substance and treatment, that they make a direct appeal 
 to music-lovers of every nation. In listening to Chopin we are 
 never conscious of turgidity, of diffuseness, of labored treatment 
 of material. AU is direct, pellucid; poetic thoughts are presented 
 in a convincingly beautiful manner. He was a great colorist as well, 
 and in his work we must recognize the fact that color in music is as 
 distinct an achievement of the imagination as profound thought or 
 beauty of hne. Chopin's position in regard to program music is 
 an interesting subject for speculation. Few of his works bear spe- 
 cifically descriptive titles; and it is well known that he had little 
 sympathy with the extreme tendencies of Berlioz and Liszt. Yet 
 there is, in general, something more than an abstract presentation 
 of musical material, however beautiful. The varied moods aroused 
 by the Ballades and Nocturnes, the actual pictures, we see in the Po- 
 lonaises, must have had their counterpart in definite subjective ex- 
 periences in the life of the composer, and so from a broad psycholog- 
 ical standpoint — even in the absence of explanatory titles — we 
 may call Chopin a thoroughly romantic tone-poet; indeed, as Balzac 
 says, "a soul which rendered itself audible." 
 
 As Chopin composed so idiomatically for his chosen instrument, 
 the pianoforte, to which he devoted himself exclusively," no under- 
 standing or adequate appreciation of the subtleties of his style is 
 possible without some knowledge of the nature and attributes of 
 
 " He was born of a Polish mother and a French father, and these mixed strains 
 of blood accovmt fundamentally for the leading characteristics of his music. From 
 the former strain came the impassioned, romantic and at times chivalrous moods, 
 prominent in all Polish Ufa and art; and from the latter the grace, charm and 
 finish which we rightly associate with the French nature. For side-lights on 
 Chopin's intimacy with George Sand see the well-known essays by Henry James 
 and Rend Doumic. 
 
 ^ The few exceptions being the Polish Songs, the Trio for Violin, 'Cello and 
 Pianoforte and the orchestral accompaniment to the two Concertos. 
 
190 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 this instrument which, in our time, has become the universal medium 
 for the rendering of music. All of Chopin's works were not only 
 published for the pianoforte but were conceived in terms of the piano- 
 forte; his style in this respect being quite unique in the history of 
 musical art. For there are noble and poetically inspired thoughts 
 of many composers which may be satisfactorily presented through 
 a number of media: pianoforte, organ, string-quartet or voices. 
 This fact has been the cause of many so-called transcriptions of 
 orchestral or string-quartet music for the organ. A composer, 
 furthermore, often publishes a work for a certain instrument when 
 the inner evidence shows that, during the period of creation, he 
 actually had some other medium in mind. Beethoven's Sonatas 
 abound' in effects which, for their complete realization, require an 
 orchestra; so that, notwithstanding the beauty of the thought, his 
 style is often anything but pianistic. In certain of Cesar Franck's 
 pianoforte works we are conscious of his predilection for the organ, 
 as the spirit of the music demands a sustained volume of sound 
 which the organ, with its powerful lungs, alone can give. But if the 
 full beauty of Chopin's conception is to be gained, his music must 
 be played on the pianoforte and on nothing else. The pianoforte 
 has, to be sure, several Hmitations; it is not per se a loud instrument 
 in comparison with a trumpet or an organ, and the whole nature of 
 its "tone is evanescent — that is, as soon as the tone is produced, 
 it begins to fade away, "^^^ . This latter apparent limitation, 
 
 however, is in fact one of its most suggestive beauties; for nothing 
 is more stimulating to the imagination than the dying away of a 
 beautiful sound, as may be felt in the striking of a clear-toned beU, 
 or in the wonderful diminuendo of the horn. This effect, inherent 
 in pianoforte tone, should be more utilized rather than deplored, 
 especially since dwelling on a delightful harmony or a single dramatic 
 note is a definite characteristic of "tempo rubato" — that pecuUar 
 feature of Chopin's rhythm. The pianoforte can neither steadily 
 
 sustain a tone i "~i nor increase it — dl[[; achievements 
 
 for which the strings and the wind instruments are so valued. On 
 the other hand, the instrument has thfe merits of great sonority and 
 marvellous coloristic possbilities; and when music is composed for 
 the pianoforte by one who understands its secrets and, furthermore, 
 
 '■ There will occur to every one numerous passages in which the pianoforte is 
 expected to be a kettle drum, or where the figuration is far better suited to the 
 violin than to the hand in connection with keys. 
 
CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 191 
 
 when it is properly played, it is quite the finest' instrument ever yet 
 brought under the control of a single performer. Again, the piano- 
 forte is not meant for great rapidity of utterance, such as, for in- 
 stance, we associate with the violin, the flute or the clarinet. It is, 
 in fact, often played too fast, sounding like a pianola or a machine 
 rather than an instrument with a soul. If there be no hngering over 
 the notes, beautiful effects have no opportunity to be heard. Rapid- 
 ity and brUHance on the pianoforte do not depend on so many notes 
 per second but on vitahty and precision of accent. These admirable 
 qualities of the instrument are due to the great ntmiber of vibrating 
 metal strings (in a modern concert-grand, about two hundred and 
 thirty, i. e., three strings to each of the twelve notes of the seven 
 octaves, save for a few of the lowest bass notes) ; to the large sounding 
 board (about twenty-four square feet, on the largest model), and 
 above all to the damper pedal which Rubinstein — so appropriately 
 — calls the soul of the pianoforte. The very term Pianoforte un- 
 phes a wealth of meaning; for a special glory of the instrument is its 
 power of shading, its flexibility of utterance, from piano to forte or 
 vice versa. The Umits themselves, to be sure, are not so striking 
 as in certain other instruments, e. g., the pianoforte cannot produce 
 the almost ghostly whisper of which the clarinet is capable, nor can 
 it equal the trumpet or the trombone in intensity or volume. But 
 it can produce a very beautiful pianissimo; and if a sense of relativity 
 be kept, and soft effects begun quietly enough, it can be made to 
 sound with remarkable brilliancy. The pianoforte should always 
 be played with a keen regard for this power of shading, of nuance; 
 the tones should undulate like the winds or the waves. Anything 
 like the steady sostenuto level for which the organ shows itself so 
 fitted is, except for special effects, entirely foreign to the nature of the 
 pianoforte. Nor should we ever attempt to make it, per se, a loud, 
 overpowering instrument. Its forte and its brilliancy are purely 
 relative; and, when forced to do something unsuited to its real nature, 
 it protests with a hard, unmelodious tone. 
 
 1 This by reason of its combined powers in melody, harmony and rhythm. 
 Some of these] qualities it shares, to be sure, with the organ j but the organ is in- 
 herently lacking in rhythm, and its solid, block-like tones do not exercise the 
 same fascination upon the imagination as do the fleeting sounds of the pianoforte. 
 It is, of course, possible and desirable to enjoy both instruments — each in its own 
 proper sphere, and each for its characteristic effects. 
 
192 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Likewise the two pedals,' when their technical names are under- 
 stood, imply their own meaning, just as their popular designations 
 hint at the way in which they are often abused. The pedal employed 
 by the right foot, properly called the "damper pedal," is so named 
 because, by its action, all the dampers of the key-board may be 
 raised simultaneously. This allows the strings to vibrate together 
 and to send forth great waves of colored sound hke those produced 
 by an AeoUan harp; an effect similar to that heard when a sea-shell 
 is held to the ear. The pianoforte, in fact, has aptly been called 
 "a harp laid on its back" to which the action of keys has been applied. 
 Accordingly an open, flowing style (arpeggio) is one of the idioms best 
 suited to its nature. To secure proper contrast, a massive, chordal 
 style is sometimes employed by such composers as Schumann, Brahms 
 and Franck — even at times by Chopin himself; but that the ex- 
 tended arpeggio (often merely two voices, with the body of tone 
 secured by the pedal) is the norm may be seen from almost any page 
 of Chopin's compositions. The resonance and carrying power of 
 these waves are intensified by raising the hd^ of the pianoforte; for 
 then they are brought to a focus and projected into space. The 
 effect produced by raising the dampers is appropriate and beautiful, 
 not alone with consonant chords but, at times, equally with chords 
 that are unrelated; which, were they sustained for long, by an organ, 
 would be intolerably harsh. But the tone of the pianoforte is so 
 fleeting that such a mixture ensures great brilliance and warmth 
 without undue jargon, and is thus akin to the blending of strange 
 colors by modern painters. Many people, in fact, play the piano- 
 forte with too little, rather than too much, pedal; or with too much 
 pedal used the wrong way! A definite attempt should be made to 
 cultivate a feeling for color and warmth of tone; a hard, colorless 
 tone on the pianoforte being a great blemish as it is so unnecessary. 
 The following passage illustrates the above points. 
 
 ' It is understood that all the comments are based on the action of a concert- 
 grand pianoforte, since on an upright or a square — because of mechanical limita- 
 tions of space — the effects are quite different. 
 
 * In this connection, even at the risk of seeming to preach, let the advice be 
 given that nothing should ever be put on top of a grand pianoforte : neither flowers, 
 afternoon tea-sets, bird-cages, books, nor even an aquarium ! For the lid is not 
 merely a cover, but an additional sounding-board, and must always be in readiness 
 to be so used. The pianoforte as a coloristic instrument, in short, is completely 
 itself only when played with the lid raised. 
 
CHOPm AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 193 
 
 CHOPnr: Barca/roUe 
 
 sempre con ped. 
 
 There is really no such thing on the pianoforte as a "pure" single tone. 
 It is an acoustical law that no tone exists by itseK, but always gen- 
 erates a whole series of overtones* or "upper partials," as they are 
 called, e. g. 
 
 Fundamental 
 Tone 
 
 ^-^l^J ^^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ,(l>)fiL|:|^:g:'^^=fe 
 
 I 
 
 ^^9- 
 
 etc. 
 
 Even what we call the perfectly consonant chord of C major, e. g., 
 Q . would be slightly qualified and colored by the B-flat, and 
 
 ^ g this effect has actually been utilized by Chopin in the final 
 ^ ■§- cadence of his Prelude in F major, No. 23, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 Moderato 
 
 IE 
 
 I i 
 
 r-^ 
 
 t=^= 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 --p 
 
 4— i^J- 
 
 i^= 
 
 -=r 
 
 dim 
 
 
 do 
 
 S- 
 
 n^- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -^^ 
 
 ' An instrument designed to reinforce these upper tones, so that they may be 
 clearly heard, is to be found in any Physical Laboratory. That these tones really 
 vibrate "sympathetically" maybe proved by striking _/y this note ^ 
 
 and then presssing down very lightly the keys of G and E just above - ^' 
 middle C, thus removing the individual dampers of these notes. In . :s: 
 a quiet room the tones are distinctly audible. For another rewarding pedal 
 experiment of the same nature, see the Introduction to the first volume of Arthur 
 Whiting's Pedal Studies and the well-known treatise of Helmholtz. 
 
194 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 8va.. 
 
 In this example the E-flat must be very delicately accented and both 
 pedals freely used. 
 
 Let it be clearly understood, therefore, that the damper pedal — 
 popularly but erroneously called the "loud pedal" — has nothing 
 to do with "noise" as such. Its purpose is to amplify and color the 
 waves of sound and these waves may vary all the way from -pp to J^. 
 The dynamic gradation of pianoforte tone is caused by the amount 
 of force with which the hammer strikes the wires; and this power is ap- 
 plied by the attack and pressure of the fingers. The damper pedal 
 will, to be sure, reinforce fortissimo effects, but logically it is only a 
 means of reinforcement and should never be used so that a mere "roar 
 of sound" is produced. The normal pianoforte tone, however, is 
 that brought forth in connection with the damper pedal, and only to 
 gain an effect of intentional coolness and dryness do we see in piano- 
 forte Uterature the direction "senza pedal"; passages so marked being 
 often most appropriate as a strong contrast to highly colored ones.* 
 
 An important adjunct of the instrument, though even less intel- 
 ligently used, is the pedal employed by the left foot; that popularly 
 known as the "soft pedal," but of which the technical name is the 
 "una corda" pedal. By this device on a grand pianoforte the whole 
 key-board is shifted from left to right, so that the hammers strike 
 but two wires in each group of three, and the third wire of the set is 
 left free to vibrate sympathetically. Thus a very etherial, magical 
 quality of tone is produced, especially in the upper ranges of the 
 instrument. In the middle register, passages played forte or fortis- 
 simo will have a richness comparable to the G string of a violin. 
 The effect is analogous to that of a viol d'amour which has, as is well 
 
 ^ For a complete and illuminating treatise on the pedals and their artistic use 
 see the aforesaid two volumes of Pedal Studies by Arthur Whiting (G. Schirmer. 
 
 New York) . 
 
CHOPm AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 195 
 
 known (stretched underneath the strings, which produce the actual 
 tone) a set of additional strings, freely vibrating. Although this 
 "una corda"> pedal may be used in a dynamic sense to reduce, as it 
 were, the size of the instrument, its chief purpose is coloristic, i. e., 
 to make possible a special quality of tone. This statement is proved 
 by directions in pianoforte literature as far back as Beethoven, in 
 whose Sonatas we find the dynamic marks of / and ff coupled with 
 the proscribed use of the una corda pedal. In any case, this left-foot 
 pedal should not be abused; for, just because the tone quahty pro- 
 duced thereby is so beautiful and characteristic, it soon becomes, 
 if constantly employed, rather cloying. The dynamic gradation 
 of tone is primarily a matter for the control of the fingers, i. e., the 
 touch. The damper pedal is for sonority and color; the una corda 
 for special shades, and all three factors — touch and the two pedals — 
 are combined in pianistic effects which only a trained technique and 
 artistic judgment can regulate.^ 
 
 Even a slight analysis of Chopin's style proves that it is based 
 upon logical inferences, drawn from the series of over-tones as they 
 are generated and reinforced by the very nature of the pianoforte. 
 From the wide spacing of the lower tones of the series Chopin derived 
 the extended grouping of his arpeggios, e. g.. 
 
 1 
 
 ' The tenn dates from the period when this pedal controlled three shifts : una 
 coida, due corde and tre corde ; the hammer striking respectively one, two or three 
 strings. The whole mechanism is well implied in the German word Verschiebunff, 
 i. «., the shoving along — so frequent in Schumann's works, e. g,, the middle part of 
 his Vogel als Prophet from the Waldscenen, op. 82, No. 7. 
 
 ' American pianofortes also have a middle pedal called the " sustaining pedal," 
 by which tones in the lower roister may be prolonged. It has not proved to be 
 of great value, though there are occasional passages, «. g., the closing measures of 
 the second movement of C^sar Franck's Violin Sonata, where it may be effectively 
 employed. 
 
196 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Prelude, No. 19 
 
 Vivace 
 
 so that the chord of the 10th, instead of the former grouping within 
 the octave, may be considered the basis of his harmonic scheme. By 
 this means a great gain was made in richness and sonority. Another 
 striking feature of Chopin's style is found in those groups of spray- 
 like, superadded notes with which the melody is embellished. It is 
 evident, in many cases at least, that these tones are not merely em- 
 broidery in the ordinary sense. Rather do they represent a rein- 
 forcement of the over-tones, ideally or actually present, in connection 
 with bass tones and chords used in the lower part of the musical 
 fabric. As a striking examplei see the long series of descending non- 
 harmonic tones in the Coda of the B^major Nocturne, op. 9, No. 3, 
 and note the delicate colors in the closing arpeggio chord (to be 
 played with a free use of both pedals). 
 
 ^ For a commentary on this passage see D. G. Mason's essay on Chopin in 
 The RomavMc Composers. 
 
CHOPIK AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 
 
 197 
 
 ^ 
 
 a 4 s a 3 4 a45a_ 
 
 T 
 
 ^j^^B^^-B 
 
 1^^ 
 
 xn: 
 
 ^— ^-w- 
 
 legaiissimo 
 
 mA 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 1 8 3 3 a a 3 
 
 giS 
 
 a 
 
 :^ 
 
 
 dim. 
 
 -t-il '— '< : j ■ 
 
 - J " 'a 
 
 Fed. 
 
 ^^ji^kimshsS 
 
 rallent. '• 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 ^& 
 
 In general, Chopin's style is homophonic — wondrous lyric melodies 
 which seem to float on waves of richly colored sound. But there is 
 also much subtly used polyphony, i. e., delightful phrases in inner 
 
198 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 voices and imitative effects between the different parts. In com- 
 parison, however, with Schumann's style (which is largely on a poly- 
 phonic basis) Chopin is a decidedly homophonic composer.' A 
 great deal of interesting and instructive reading on Chopin is avail- 
 able and the following works are especially recommended: Chopin, 
 the Man and his Music by Huneker; the Life of Chopin by Niecks; 
 the essay on Chopin in Mason's Romantic Composers and in Hadow's 
 Studies in Modem Music; the volume on Chopin by EUe Poir6e in 
 the series Les Musidens Cilebres; and the same by Louis Laloy in the 
 series Les Maitres de la Musique; the Life by Liszt (well known and 
 most valuable as coming from a contemporary and brother musician) ; 
 finally a somewhat rhapsodic essay by H. T. Finck in Chopin and 
 Other Essays. 
 
 We select, as being thoroughly representative, the following works 
 for comment: the first Prelude, the A-flat major Etude, the F-sharp 
 minor Mazurka, the E-flat minor Polonaise, the Barcarolle and the 
 C-sharp minor Scherzo.^ 
 
 Pbblude in C Major, Op. 28, No. 1. 
 
 This Prelude, the first of the set of 24, is an excellent example of the 
 sonority Chopin gained from widely extended chords in the bass; 
 by the use — characteristically bold — of dissonances (measures 
 13-20), and by the sensuous richness of the closing measures, in 
 which a wonderful wave of sound is produced through the damper 
 pedal, in connection with the blending of the tonic, dominant and 
 subdominant chords. The prelude is a kind of intensified Bach and 
 may well be compared with that prelude in the same key which 
 begins the immortal well-tempered Clavichord. All the Preludes, 
 for their poetic import, finished style and pianistic effect, are master- 
 pieces of the first rank. Schumann well says of them: "They are 
 sketches, eagle's feathers, all strangely intermingled. But in eveiy 
 piece we recognize the hand of Fr6d6ric Chopin; he is the boldest, 
 the proudest poet-soul of his time." 
 
 * For a detailed analysis of many special features of style see the Tolume by 
 Edgar Stillman Kelly, Chopin the Convposer. 
 
 ^ To save space,no one of these pieces except the Barcarolle is given in the Supple- 
 ment, since they are readily accessible. The Barcarolle, however, is given in order 
 to make it better known ; for although it is one of the most inspired and beautifully 
 expressed of all Chopin's works, it is heard comparatively seldom. The best edi- 
 tions of the works are those of KuUak, Mikuli and Klindworth. 
 
CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 199 
 
 Etude in A-flat Major, Op. 25, No. 1. 
 This 6tude, deservedly popular, may be considered the example -par 
 excellency of Chopin's style. The lyric beauty of the melody, the 
 fascinating modulations, the shades of color alike justify the follow- 
 ing rhapsodic comments of Schimiann, "Imagine that an Aeolian 
 harp possessed all the musical scales, and that the hand of an artist 
 were to cause them to intermingle in all sorts of fantastic embellish- 
 ments, yet in such a way as to leave everywhere audible a deep funda- 
 mental tone and a soft, continuously singing upper voice, and you 
 will get about the right idea. But it would be an error to tViinlf that 
 Chopin, in playing this etude, permitted every one of the smaU notes 
 to be distinctly heard. It was rather an undulation of the A-flat 
 major chord, here and there thrown aloft by the pedal. Throughout 
 the harmonies one always heard in great tones a wondrous melody, 
 while once only, in the middle of the piece, besides that chief song, 
 a tenor voice became prominent. After the 6tude a feeling came 
 over one as of having seen in a dream a beatific picture which, when 
 already half awake, one would gladly once more recall." 
 
 Mazukka in F-shabp Minor, Op. 6, No. 1. 
 As Franz Liszt says in his hfe of Chopin, "The Mazurka is not 
 only a dance, it is a national poem, and like all poems of conquered 
 nations, is shaped so as to let the blazing flames of patriotic feeling 
 shimmer out through the transparentveilof popular melody." The 
 chief peculiarity of the Mazurka (which is always in triple rhythm, 
 with a latitude in speed from Presto to Mesto) is the scheme of accen- 
 tuation — the normal accent on the first beat being systematically 
 transferred to the second and third beats. We also find in the 
 Mazurka frequent indications for the use of the so-called "tempo 
 rubato," a proper conception of which is so essential in the per- 
 formance of Chopin's music. Tempo rubato— so often abused! 
 — literally meaning borrowed time, is simply free rhythm emanci- 
 pated from rigid, scholastic bonds. As Huneker well says, "Chopin 
 must be played in curves" with emotional freedom; just as the heart, 
 when excited, increases the speed of its pulsations, and in moments 
 of calm and depression slows down. The jerky, really unrhythmical 
 playing of certain performers reminds us of a person suffering from 
 paljntation of the heart. Liszt's description of the rubato is most 
 suggestive: "A wind plays in the leaves, life unfolds and develops 
 beneath them, but the tree remains the same." In Chopin, accord- 
 ingly, the ground rhythm should always be preserved, though 
 varied with subtle, and yet logical fiuctuations. 
 
200 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Polonaise in E-plat Minor, Op. 26, No. 11. 
 
 The Polonaise' is the great national dance of the Poles; an impas- 
 sioned and yet stately pageant in which, as Liszt says, "The noblest 
 traditional feelings of ancient Poland are represented." This dance 
 — or rather, processional march — is always in triple rhythm and 
 based on a definite rhythmic formula: either I | J^ «^^ J^ S^ I 
 or I I J"^ J~^ J I- The frequent feminine endings are also a 
 characteristic feature, e. g., the cadence in the well known military 
 Polonaise in A major: 
 
 Allegro con brio 
 
 i-ii^^'- f. ^ >»— ^^-T — rS" — ^ ^- 1 1- 
 
 -?=£^ 
 
 To return to the example being considered, — it is in Three-part 
 form (A, B, A, with Coda) the first part in the minor mode; the 
 second part beautifully contrasted by being in B major — introduced 
 by the implied enharmonic change from E-flat.to D-sharp. This 
 first part, remarkable for its passionate, headlong impetuosity, 
 should dispel any idea that Chopin was a weak sentimentalist. 
 Although of a delicate constitution he certainly had a fiery soul. 
 The second part, sotto voce — note the feminine endings — reminds 
 us of the muffled music of a military band as it passes by. 
 
 Babcabolle in F-shabp Major, Op. 60. 
 
 This composition, in many ways the most wonderful single piece we 
 have from Chopin, is the quintessence of his genius. It seems, in 
 fact, to contain everything: appealing melodies, wealth of harmony, 
 bold dissonances (note in particular the 6th and 7th measures of the 
 Coda), brilliant embellishments; and withal, it is written in a pian- 
 istic style which, for richness and warmth of color, is quite unsur- 
 passed. It is also most sincerely conceived, intensifying the sug- 
 gestiveness of the descriptive title. Would that objective program 
 
 > For an account of its origin see the chapter in Huneker's book and the article 
 on the Polonaise in Grove's Dictionary. 
 
CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE 201 
 
 music were always so true to life and to the real nature of music! 
 It is in free three-part form, the first part of a calm nature in which 
 we are rocked on gently undulating waves; a more rhythmic second 
 part where, as Kullak says, the bass seems to suggest the monotonous 
 steadiness of oar-strokes; an interlude, marked "dolce sfogato," 
 introduced by some delightful modulations, as if in a quiet nook the 
 poet were dreaming of the beauties of love and nature; an impas- 
 sioned return to the chief subject, together with a partial presenta- 
 tion of the middle portion; and finally a long and brilliant coda. The 
 composition is unique in romantic literature for its power to arouse 
 the imagination, or, as Schumann so weU says, "to set people romanc- 
 ing for themselves." 
 
 Scherzo in C-sharp Minor, Op. 39. 
 
 The four Scherzos, for passion and eloquence, rank among Chopin's 
 most characteristic works, though it seems impossible to trace a 
 logical correspondence between the former classic meaning of the term 
 "Scherzo" and the contents revealed to us in these poems; save that 
 they are all in triple rhythm, hence on a dance-form basis. As Niecks 
 well says, "There is in them neither frolic some ness nor humor" — 
 such, for example, as we find in Beethoven's Scherzos — and he 
 suggests that "Capriccio" might be a less misleading designation. 
 But, however inexplicable the title which Huneker thinks Chopin may 
 have applied in serious jest, there is no doubt of the uncompromising 
 dignity of the utterance, and there is often a grim irony, a wayward 
 scorn, which a liberal interpretation might well consider attributes 
 of humor. These were marked traits in Chopin's nature, and the 
 Scherzos are their revelation in terms of music. Schumann's well- 
 known comment is apropos — "How is gravity to clothe itself if 
 jest goes about in dark veils?" This Scherzo (Presto con fuoco) is 
 in extended three-part form; the dominant note of the first part 
 being one of feverish agitation, which expresses itself in spasmodic 
 outbursts. The second part, with its broad cantabile melody of a 
 hymn-like character, reveals a calmer mood. The last note of each 
 phrase is adorned throughout with lovely coloristic embellishments. 
 After a return to the first theme, the second part is also repeated; this 
 time with striking modulatory changes which strongly resemble the 
 mood of Wotan's Farewell, in the third Act of Wagner's Valkyrie. 
 A long and fiery coda of new thematic material closes the work. The 
 major ending is like a shaft of light dispelling storm-tossed clouds. 
 
202 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Chopin's works are so instinct with genius and have proved to be 
 so immortal that they may well be considered as ideal witnesses to the 
 triumph of quality over mere quantity orsensational display. To-day, 
 when we suffer from musical bombast, their refined message is of 
 special significance. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 BERLIOZ AND LISZT. PROGRAMME MUSIC 
 
 THERE is no doubt that Hector Berlioiz (1803-1869), however 
 varied the appeal of his music to different temperaments, is an 
 artistic personality to be reckoned with; one not to be ticketed and 
 laid on the shelf. Although a century and more has elapsed since 
 his birth the permanent value of his music is still debated, often 
 amusingly enough, by those who seem unaware that, whatever the 
 theoretical rights of the case, in practice his principles are the reigning 
 ones in modern music. As Berlioz stands as the foremost representa- 
 tive of program music and never wrote anything without a title, it is 
 certain that before his music or influence can be appreciated, the 
 mind must be cleared of prejudice and we must recognize that modern 
 program music is a condition — an artistic fact, not a theory — and 
 that the tendency towards specific, subjective expression (whether 
 manifested in song, opera or symphonic poem) is a dominant one 
 among present day composers. It is true that all music is the ex- 
 pression in tones of the imagination of the composer; true, also, that 
 music must fulfil certain conditions of its own being. But imagi- 
 nations differ. That of Berlioz, for example, was quite a new phe- 
 homenon; and as for the working principles of musical composition, 
 they are as much subject to modification as any other form of human 
 experimentation. Berlioz, himseff, says that he never intended to 
 subvert the laws of music, only to make a new and individal use of 
 them. As he was no abstract maker of music, his autobiography — one 
 of the most fascinating in the history of art, only to be compared with 
 that of Benvenuto CeUini — should be familiar to all who would 
 penetrate the secrets of his style. Berlioz's compositions, in fact, 
 are more specifically autobiographic than those of any other notable 
 musician. Both in his music and his literary works are the same 
 notes of passionate insistence on his own point of view, of radical 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 203 
 
 dislike for accepting conditions as they were (he says of himself that 
 he loved to make the barriers crack) and of fondness for brilliant 
 outward eflFect. In considering Berlioz, one is always reminded of 
 Matthew Arnold's lines on Byron, who resembles Berhoz so closely. 
 
 "He taught us little; but our soul 
 Had felt him, like the thunder's roll. 
 With shivering heart the strife we saw 
 Of passion with eternal law; 
 And yet with reverential awe 
 We watch 'd the fount of fiery life 
 Which served for that Titantic strife." 
 
 Only realize that BerUoz's Fantastic Symphony was composed but 
 twenty-one years after Haydn's death, and compare the simple, 
 self-centered Haydn with the restless, wide-visioned Berlioz, of a 
 mentality positively omnivorous; who, in addition to his musical 
 achievements, was a brilliant critic and litterateur, a man of travel 
 and wide acquaintance with the world. Then indeed you wiU appre- 
 ciate what an enormous change had come over music. A mere 
 mention of the authors from whom Berlioz drew his subjects : Shakes- 
 peare, Goethe, Byron, Scott, Virgil, Hugo, shows the wide range of 
 his reading and the difference in output which would inevitably result. 
 The previous impersonal attitude towards music is shown by the 
 very names of compositions which, broadly speaking , (tiU the begin- 
 ning of the 19th century) were seldom more than Symphony, Sonata, 
 or Quartet, No. so and so; while the movements, in an equally 
 mechanical way, were known by the designations of tempo: allegro, 
 adagio, andante, etc. — those "senseless terms," as Beethoven 
 himself says. Beginning pre-eminently with Berhoz, composers have 
 had more highly cultivated imaginations, much more to say; and 
 the wider range of emotion resulting therefrom has necessitated 
 differences of form and treatment. A frequent misconception on 
 the part of the layman is that worthy music should be so constructed 
 that the hearer be spared all mental exertion. As long as it was 
 certain that a composer would present just so many themes in a 
 prescribed order and treated in the routine fashion, listening to music 
 was a comparatively easy task. Since Berhoz, music has made ever 
 greater demands on the hearer; who only when his receptivity is of 
 an equal degree of cultivation with the creative power of the com- 
 poser, can grasp the full meaning of the music. The first step, there- 
 fore, toward an appreciation of Berlioz is to recognize the peculiar. 
 
204' MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 picturesque power of his imagination, which was of an entirely new 
 order, and may be called musico-poetic in distinction from purely 
 musical activity. This form of double consciousness is equally 
 necessary on the part of the hearer. As Debussy, the modern French 
 composer, so well says, people often do not understand or enjoy'new 
 music because it diflfers from "une musique" i. e., from a conventional 
 and unvarying type which they have in their mind. The real effect 
 of BerUoz's "Carnaval Romain" Overture, to take a simple example, 
 is to complement and intensify the mental picture which any well- 
 read person — or better stiU, any one who has actually visited Rome 
 — wUl have of this characteristic incident in ItaHan life. If the 
 work be considered merely as abstract music, notwithstanding the 
 stimulation and delight caused by the rhythmic vitality and by the 
 orchestral effects, the real poetic purpose of the composer remains 
 unfulfilled. This peculiar quality "of Berlioz was partly the result of 
 his fiery excitable temperament and partly the reactive effect of the 
 environment in which he found himself. What an amazing group in 
 Paris (beginning about 1830) was that with which he was associated! 
 DeMusset, DeVigny, Liszt, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Balzac, Dumas, 
 Chopin, Heine, Delacroix, Gericault: young men representing every 
 art and several nationalities, all under the lead of Hugo, that prince 
 of Romanticists; their object being — revolt from conventional 
 standards and a complete expression of their own personalities. 
 Hugo, as he says in the famous preface to Cromwell, was tearing 
 down the plaster which hides the facade of the fair temple of art; 
 Dumas had just demolished Racine; Gericault and Delacroix, by 
 their daring conceptions, were founding our modern school of paint- 
 ing. Into this maelstrom of revolution, Berlioz — he of the flaming 
 locks, "that hairy Romantic" as Thackeray calls him — flung 
 himself with temperamental ardor; for he was a born fighter and 
 always in opposition to someone. The audacity and dramatic 
 energy of his compositions are but the natural result of the tendencies 
 of the period. Berlioz's early career is of extreme interest to us 
 EngUsh-speaking people, because the first strong stimulus to his 
 imagination came from his acquaintance with the dramas of Shakes- 
 peare. In 1827, some of the dramas, (such as Hamlet, and Romeo 
 and Juliet) were played in Paris by an English company, and their 
 effect upon Berlioz was overwhelming. He would wander about the 
 streets raving of Shakspeare; he promptly fell in love with the naost 
 beautiful actress in the troupe — Henrietta Smithson, whom he 
 
BERLIOZ AOT) LISZT 205 
 
 later married* — and then began the frenzied period of composing and 
 concert giving, which came to a climax in the Fantastic Symphony 
 first performed in 1830. Berhoz's coiu-age and perseverance are 
 shown by his winning the Prix de Rome, after four failm-es! His 
 two years in Italy (his picture may stiU be seen at the Villa Medici), 
 replete with amusing and thrilling incidents, were, on the whole, 
 the happiest period of his stormy life. 
 
 But we must pass to some brief comments upon the characteristics, 
 pro and con, of his style. In the first place it was extremely original; 
 showed little or no connection with former composers; has had no 
 imitators, and cannot be parodied. Berlioz likewise possessed great 
 range of emotion — though he rarely touched the sublime; a power 
 of laying out works on a vast scale, and, in general, of achieving with 
 unerring certainty the effects desired. The poet Heine said that 
 much of Berhoz's music reminded him of "primeval monsters and 
 fabulous empires." And what a master he was of rhythm! — one of 
 the greatest in music! Prior to his work, and that of Schumann 
 among the Germans, the classic rhythms were becoming rather 
 stereotyped; and the vigorous elasticity introduced by these two 
 composers has widened incalculably the range of dramatic effect. 
 But his indisputable claim to lasting recognition is his genius in the 
 treatment of the orchestra. Berlioz had an inbotn instinct for 
 sensuous tonsal effect for its own sake, and not as the clothing of an 
 abstract idea. With biTn the art of making that composite instru- 
 ment, ihe orchestra, give forth the greatest beauty and variety of 
 sound became an end in itself; and from his ingenious and innovating 
 effects has been evolved the orchestra as we hear it to-day. Berlioz 
 thought, so to speak, in terms of orchestral color. In his melodies 
 we do not feel that the drawing, the contour of the pure line, is the 
 chief thing; but that the assignment of the melody to just the right 
 instrument, and the color-effect thereby produced, are integral parts 
 of the conception. Notwithstanding the fact that some of his effects 
 are extravagant or at times bizarre, he must be credited with revealing 
 possibiUties in orchestral shading and color which, stiU further devel- 
 oped by Wagner, Strauss and Tchaikowsky, have become con- 
 ventional means of expression. Some of his most celebrated and 
 satisfying works, in addition to those mentioned, are the Harold in 
 Italy Symphony, with its personification by a solo viola of the chief 
 
 ' For a convincing account of this tragic marriage see the volume of BeeolUc- 
 tiom by Ernest Legouvd. 
 
206 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 character; the Romeo and Juliet Symphony, for both vocal and in- 
 strumental forces (of which the ball-scene with its wondrous love- 
 melody and the Queen Mob Scherzo — unequalled for daintiness — 
 represent his highest attainments as a tone-poet) and, most popular of 
 all, the Damnation of Faust based on scenes from Goethe's poem. 
 The bewitching incidental pieces for orchestra alone, such as the 
 Ballet of Sylphs and the Rakoczy March, are often played at symphony 
 concerts, and are familiar to everyone. Certain blemishes in Ber- 
 lioz's music are obvious and need not be over-emphasized. There is 
 often more style and outward effect than real substance. His works 
 excite, but how seldom do they exalt! For he was frequently 
 deficient in depth of emotion and in latent warmth — quahties quite 
 different from the hectic glow and the feverish passion which his 
 French admirers, Tiersot and Boschot, claim to be genuine attributes 
 of musical inspiration, of power to compel universal attention. We of 
 other nations can only firmly dissent. Without question his work 
 has never succeeded in calling forth the spontaneous love of a large 
 body of admirers.* In an eloquent passage the conductor and critic 
 Weingartner sums up the case: "Berlioz will always represent a 
 milestone in the development of music, for he is the real founder of the 
 modern school. He did not approach that ethical depth, that ideal 
 purity which surround Beethoven's name with such unspeakable 
 glory, but no composer since Beethoven, except Wagner, has enriched 
 music with so many new means of expression as this great Frenchman. 
 Berlioz, Liszt and Wagner are the heroes of the last half of the 19th 
 century, just as Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Weber and Schubert were 
 of the first." 
 
 As Berlioz is, if possible, even more idiomatic for the orchestra 
 than Chopin for the pianoforte, no conception of the real quahty of 
 his message can be gained from transcriptions, however good. His 
 works' must be studied at first hand in the orchestral score and then 
 
 ' It is understood that this is merely a personal opinion of the writer and might 
 well have been prefaced by the Socratic " it seems to me." Too much criticism 
 reminds us of wine-tasting — Mr. So-and-So likes port, Mr. So-and-So sherry. 
 The object of fair-minded appreciation is to understand clearly just what each com- 
 poser set out to do, i. e., what was the natural tendency of his individual genius; 
 then the only question is : did or did he not do this well? It is futile to blame him 
 because he was not someone else or did not achieve what he never set out to do. 
 
 ' The best edition is the complete one, beautifully engraved and with critical 
 comments, by Malherbe and Weingartner. This is expensive, but should be found 
 in any large library. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 
 
 207 
 
 heaxd in performance by an excellent orchestra. Some preliminary 
 acquaintance and appreciation, however, of characteristic features in 
 his style is possible from arrangements and so we select for comment 
 the following works and movements: The Fantastic Symphony, the 
 Camaval Romain Overture, the Ballet des Sylphes and the Feux 
 Follets from the Damnation of Faust, the Pilgrim's March from the 
 ChUde Harold Symphony and the Slow Movement from the Romeo 
 and Jidiet Symphony.* There is much valuable and stimulating 
 reading^ about Berlioz and his influence; for, as Theophile Gautier 
 acutely remarks, "S'il fut un grand genie, on peut le discuter encore, 
 le monde est livre aux controverses; mais nul ne penserait a nier 
 qu'il fut un grand caractere." The Symphonic fantastique, op. 14, 
 episode de la vie d'un artiste, in five movements is significant for being 
 the first manifestation of Berlioz's. conviction that musicshould be yet 
 more specifically expressive, since it is founded on a characteristic 
 theme, called I'idee fixe which typifies the heroine, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 Allegro agitato e appassioneUo as sai. 
 1st Violins & Flute ^ 
 
 IE 
 
 Stkinqs 
 
 */ 
 
 iS 
 
 ' The only citations possible in the Supplement are the Overture and portions 
 of a few of the others. 
 
 ' Particularly to be recommended are the following: the essay in Miesical 
 Studies by Newman ; that by R. Holland in Musiciens d' aujourd' hui (in French and 
 in English) ; Berlioz et la sociiU de son temps by J. Tiersot; the essay in Studies in 
 Modem Music by Hadow; Berlioz's own M/moires (in French and in English) and 
 his entertaining essays, A Travers Chants, Grotesques de la Musique and Soirees 
 d'Orchestre; the excellent rdsmnd of Berlioz's writings in the Amateur Series by 
 W. F. Apthorp; the Symphony since Beethoven by Weingartner; and, above all, 
 the monumental work by Boschot in three parts — La Jeunesse d'un Bomantique, 
 Un Bomantique sous Louis Philippe, Le Qripuscule d'un RomanHque. There is an 
 amusing but far from convincing assault against Berlioz as a programme composer 
 and, to a certain extent, against Romanticism in general, in the New Laocoon by 
 Professor Irving Babbitt. 
 
 ' On the title page of the autograph copy of the full score is inscribed the 
 following quotation from King Lear: "As flies to wanton boys are we to the 
 Gods; they kill us for their sport." 
 
208 
 
 MUSIC: AS ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
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 This theme, with modifications appropriate to the changes in the 
 character and the environment, is repeated in each movement. As 
 for the theme itself, frankly it does not amount to much; it certainly 
 fails to take our emotions by storm or sing itself into our hearts. 
 Berlioz's harmonization is very bald, and as to his attempts at de- 
 velopmentS the less said the better. Of course whatever Berlioz 
 writes for the orchestra smmds well; of that there is no doubt. But 
 this is not enough; any more than we are convinced by a person's 
 statements or arguments merely because he happens to have a beau- 
 tiful speaking voice. This dramatization of a musical theme was, 
 after all, nothing iconoclastically new and Berlioz is perfectly right 
 in claiming that he was merely extending the possibilities of that same 
 
 » Dannreuther, in his essay in the Sixth Volume of the Oxford History of Musk, 
 ■peaks of the pecuUar process of "rabbeting" which serves BerUoz in the place 
 of counterpoint, and the criticism, though caustic, holds much truth. 
 
210 
 
 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 type of theme as is found in Beethoven himself, e. g., in the Coriolanus 
 Overture and to a certain extent in the Fifth Symphony. If, further- 
 more, we look back from the dramatic and highly personified use 
 made of themes in modern music, in the works of Strauss, 
 Tchaikowsky, Franck and even Brahms (e. g., his First Symphony 
 with its motto-theme) we can see that this symphony of Berlioz is 
 an important Unk in a perfectly logical chain of development. This 
 melody, then, I'idee fixe, appears in each of the five movements; 
 undergoing, however, but slight purely thematic development, being 
 introduced and modified primarily for dramatic purposes. In the 
 second movement,' Un Bal, two phrases drawn from it are sung pp 
 by the clarinet as an indication that, amid the gaieties of the dance, 
 the vision of the beloved one is ever present. In the Sdne aux 
 Champs it is modified and eloquently declaimed by the fiute and oboe, 
 e.g. 
 
 At the close of the movement occurs one of Berlioz's most novel and 
 reaUstic eflfects — the imitation of the rumbles of distant thunder 
 produced by four kettle drums tuned in a vety pecuUar way (see 
 page 75 of the orchestral score, Breitkopf and Hartel edition). In 
 the fourth novement, Marche au Supplice, four measures of I'idfie 
 fixe are introduced just at the moment when the head of the hero 
 is to be chopped off. This is done for purely theatric purposes and 
 certainly makes our flesh creep — as Berhoz no doubt intended. The 
 most spectacular effect, however, is in the last movement, Songe 
 d'une Nuit du Sabbat, where the theme is parodied to typify the de- 
 graded appearance which the beloved one takes in the distorted 
 dreams of her lover, e. g. 
 
 ' This movement is also of interest as an earl^ example of the Waltz among the 
 conventional symphonic moods. The example has been followed hj Tchaikowsky 
 in the third movement of his Fifth Symphony. 
 
Allegro 
 .Horn 
 
 BERLIOZ AND LISZT 
 
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 ffeta. 
 
 The impression made by the Symphony depends largely upon the 
 attitude of the hearer. In this work we are not to look for the sub- 
 limity and emotional depth of a Bach or Beethoven any more than 
 we expect a whimsical comedy of Aristophanes to resemble an epic 
 poem of Milton. But for daring imagination, for rhythmic vitality 
 and certainty of orchestral effect, it was and remains a work^ of 
 genius. 
 
 The Cabnaval Romain Ovehttjbe 
 (She Supplement No. 57) 
 
 This work is one of Berlioz 's most brilliant pieces, with an orchestral 
 life and color all its own. The material is taken from his opera 
 Benvenuto Cellini;^ the checquered career of this artist having made 
 an irresistible appeal to BerUoz's love of the unusual and the spectacu- 
 lar. The body of the work is based on the Italian national dance, 
 the Saltarello; and with this rhythm as a steadying background 
 BerUoz achieves a continuity sometimes lacking in his work. The 
 mere thought of the sights, sounds and colors of that important event 
 in the life of Rome would be enough to inflame his susceptible im- 
 agination, and so here we have Berlioz at his very best. The over- 
 ture begins, allegro assai con fuoco, with a partial announcement 
 of the saltarello theme by the violins and violas, freely imitated by 
 the wood-wind instruments, e. g. 
 
 1 For further comments on this Symphony see Mr. Mason's essay in the 
 Romantic Composeri, an essay which, while thoughtful, strikes the writer as some- 
 what biased. 
 
 ' For an entertaining account of the subject matter of the opera see Chapter 
 VII d Boschot's Un Somandque iom Lomi Philippe. 
 
212 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 1st & 2d Violins 
 
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 After a sudden prolonged silence and some crescendo trills the first 
 periodic melody is introduced, sung by the English horn — the tune 
 taken from an aria of Benvenuto in the first act. The melody is 
 soon repeated in the dominant key by the violas and then, treated 
 canonically, by the 'cellos and vioHns. The canon really tells and 
 shows that Berlioz, as is often alleged, was not altogether lacking in 
 polyphonic skill. The rhythm is now gradually quickened and leads 
 to the main body of the work, in | time, based on the Italian folk- 
 dance — the Saltarello which, as its name implies, is of a "skipping" 
 nature. The music is freely developed from the two following 
 themes; e. g. 
 
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 Toward the close there is a return to the introductory melody which 
 is treated contrapuntally by the bassoons and other wind-instruments. 
 The saltarello resumes its sway and is worked up to a fiery ending; 
 especially brilliant are the closing chords scored for full brass with 
 trills on the cornets. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 
 
 213 
 
 Two of Berlioz's most poetically conceived descriptive pieces 
 are the Menuet des Feux-Follets and the Ballet des Sylphes, incidental 
 orchestral numbers from the Damnation of Faust; for they illustrate 
 convincingly what one means by the claim that Berlioz thought in 
 terms of orchestral color and suggestion- To give a musical picture 
 of such airy and fantastic imaginings by the mere repetition of conven- 
 tional formulae would obviously be of no avaU. Berlioz's genius is 
 equal to the situation; and as we listen to the music we can really see 
 the flickering of the Will o' the Wisps and feel the graceful swaying 
 of the Sylphs as they hover about the sleeping Faust. To suggest 
 the Feux-Follets Berlioz ingeniously gives the theme to two piccolos 
 in thirds, which are supported by a rich but subdued mass of wind 
 instruments, horns and trumpets, e. g. 
 
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 With equal felicity does he create the picture of the delicate, grace- 
 ful Sylphs. Any boisterous rhythmic activity would be quite out 
 of place; and so, above a sustained ground tone on muted 'cellos and 
 
214 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 basses (which continues through the piece), and the slightest sus- 
 picion of motion on the second violins and violas, there floats in the 
 first violins one of the most perfectly rounded and exquisite melodies 
 in existence, e. g. 
 
 Allegro, tempo de valse 
 
 1st Violins 
 
 In the closing measures there is a charming shadowy dialogue be- 
 tween kettle drums (struck with sponge-headed sticks) and harps 
 in harmonies, carrying out Berlioz's stage directions — "Les esprits 
 de I'air se balancent quelque temps autour de Faust endormi et 
 disparaissent pen a peu." The piece ends with a chord barely 
 whispered on the clarinets, pppp, which, as Hadow aptly suggests, 
 reminds us of vanishing soap bubbles. 
 
 Berlioz's most sustained and perfect work, both in content and 
 treatment, is universally acknowledged to be the Harold en Italie 
 Symphony' in four movements for full orchestra and solo viola. 
 There is little actual correspondence between the scenes of Byron's 
 poem and the musical portrayal; and in fact, as Liszt says, "The 
 title clearly shows that the composer wished to render the impression 
 which the magnificent nature of Italy could not fail to make on a 
 soul such as that of Harold languishing in sorrow." The significant 
 features of the work are the melody for solo-viola, recurring* in each 
 
 ' For an extended analysis of the work and also for an account of the alleged 
 connection of the virtuoso Paganini with its composition, see the essay in Niecks' 
 Program Music, There are, in addition, interesting comments in Stories of Sym- 
 phonic Mitsic by Lawrence Gilman. 
 
 ' An early example of the modern principle of transformation and transference 
 by theme. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 216 
 
 movement, which typifies Harold — that "melancholy dreamer," e. g. 
 
 Viola Solo 
 
 7n-F pjinrpjiR p. In.Tnn.-m.pn'itp. ^ ^ 
 
 mf espress e largamenU 
 
 I* r -M ^^n i r I '^ J ' i 
 
 and the dazzUng sensationalism of the Finale (Orgy of Brigands) 
 which, when it was once played "con amore" by a fine orchestra, 
 called forth from Berlioz the following eulogy, — "Sublime! I thank 
 you, gentlemen, and I wonder at you; you are perfect brigands." 
 The finale is also notable in that the opening portion is a reminisc- 
 ence, a passing in review, of the chief themes of the preceding 
 movements. Berlioz, we may surmise, was following the precedent 
 established by Beethoven in the finale of the Ninth Symphony, and, 
 although his treatment is rather mechanical and lacking in any such 
 dramatic logic as justified Beethoven, a certain organic connection 
 between the movements is imdoubtedly secured. A portion of the 
 second movement, March of Pilgrims singing the evening prayer, 
 is cited in the Supplement (See No. 58) chiefiy because it is one 
 of Berhoz's noblest inspirations, giving an eloquent picture of a 
 procession approaching, passing by and losing itself in the distance 
 — a long crescendo and diminuendo. At every eighth measure the 
 March melody is interrupted by the muffled chant of the pilgrims, 
 very effectively scored for brass instruments, pianissimo. In the 
 middle of the piece a contrast is gained by the introduction of a re- 
 ligious chant. The closing measures of this movement are of haunt- 
 ing beauty — a mysterious effect being produced by an intentional 
 mixture of tonalities (the sustained B in the fiute and oboe being 
 answered by a C on the horns and harp, while beneath are heard 
 fragments of the March theme in the main key on the pizzicato 
 double basses) .1 Berlioz's most pretentious orchestral composition is 
 that called in the full title "Romeo and Juliet, dramatic symphony, 
 with choruses, vocal solos, and a prologue in choral recitative, com- 
 
 > A striking illustration of " association of ideas " may be gained from a com- 
 parison of the end of this movement with the closing measures of Strauss's Thus 
 Spake Zarathuatra; it seems incredible that Strauss did not have Berlioz's effect 
 in his mind. 
 
216 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 posed after Shakespeare's tragedy." Notwithstanding many touches 
 of genius, it is a very uneven work and is too much a conglomerate 
 of styles — narrative, lyrical, dramatic, theatric and symphonic — 
 for the constructive ability of the author to weld into a living whole. 
 There are several portions which, however noble and glorious may 
 have been Berlioz's conception,* and however inspired by Shakespeare's 
 genius, do not "come oflF." Two of the numbers, on the other hand, 
 are worthy of the highest praise — '■ the Love Scene and the Queen Mab 
 Scherzo. Of the latter Saint-Saens writes — "The famous Scherzo 
 is worth even more than its reputation. It is a miracle of lightness 
 and gracefulness. Beside such delicacies and transparencies the fi- 
 nesses of Mendelssohn in the Midsummer Night's Dream seem heavy." 
 The main theme is fascinating in its daintiness and sparkle, e. g. 
 
 Prestissimo 
 1st Violins 
 
 ^ 
 
 f^=l 
 
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 etc. 
 
 w 
 
 fe 
 
 Berlioz considered the Love Scene his finest inspiration and there are 
 few pieces comparable with it for passionate utterance. The or- 
 chestration is wonderful for richness and variety.^ 
 
 After a careful study of the foregoing examples the reader, we 
 hope, is in a position to make a fair estimate of Berlioz's power and to 
 realize his great significance. It should be understood that this 
 music is intensely subjective and so requires a sympathetic and 
 cultivated attitude on the part of the listener. To the writer at least, 
 there remains one vital lack in BerKoz's music, — that of the dis- 
 sonant element. It often seems as if his conceptions could not be 
 fully realized for want of sheer musical equipment, largely due to 
 
 '■ See the M^moires for a rhapsodic account of his state of mind at this time — 
 " basking in the warm rays of Shakespeare's imagination and believing it in his 
 power to arrive at the marvellous island where rises the temple of pure Art." 
 
 ^ For extended comments and a long citation of the actual music see the Sixth 
 Vohime of the Oxford History of Mime. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 217 
 
 insufficient early training. For what is music without dissonance? 
 Surely "flat, stale and unprofitable" even if, in BerHoz's case, this 
 deficiency is offset by great rhythmic vitality and gorgeous color. 
 Yet in his best works' there is such a strong note of individuality, 
 indeed such real character, that they are deserving of sincere re- 
 spect and admiration, although by everybody they may not be deeply 
 loved. We should, furthermore, always remember that, if BerUoz's 
 poverty of harmonic effect is sometimes annoying, he never falls into 
 the humdrum ruts of those who have had a stereotyped academic 
 training. His genius was unhampered by any conventional harmonic 
 vocabulary, and hence it could always express itself freely. That he 
 was a real genius no one can fairly doubt. 
 
 All the qualities which have been enumerated as typical of the 
 romantic temperament: warmth of sentiment, broad culture, love 
 of color and the sensuous side of music, freedom of form, and stress 
 laid on the orchestra as the most eloquent means of expression, reach 
 their climax in Franz Liszt (1811-1886) . Born near Vienna of a Hun- 
 garian father and a German mother, but chiefly associated with Paris, 
 Weimar, Budapest and B,ome, he is certainly the most picturesque 
 and versatile figure in the music of the 19th century; for he worked 
 and won fame as a pianoforte virtuoso — probably the greatest the 
 world has known — as a prolific composer for pianoforte, orchestra 
 and voice, as a teacher, conductor and man of letters, and withal 
 spent a large part of his time, strength and fortune in helping young 
 artists and in producing works which otherwise might never have 
 seen the light. His life is of constant and varied interest, so spectacu- 
 lar at times that it seems like a fairy tale.^ As a mere boy he began 
 to receive adulation for his precocity; at the height of his career he 
 was loaded with honors and wealth; in his old age he was a favorite 
 with everyone of distinction and influence in France, Germany, 
 England and Italy. Nevertheless he preserved, throughout, the 
 integrity of his character and the nobility of his disposition. What- 
 ever may be the final estimate of his powers as a creative artist, as 
 a man he has earned nothing but eulogy;' for seldom has any one 
 
 ' For valuable analytical comments on Berlioz's orchestral style see Vol. VIII, 
 Chapter X, of the Art of Musk (C&ar Saerchinger, N. Y.,) and for biographical 
 details and matters of general import, Vol. II, Chap. IX. 
 
 2 The best biographies in English are the one by Huneker and that in Vol. 2 
 of Grove's Dictionary. 
 
 ' For a lively description of his influence as a pianoforte teacher see Mum 
 Study in Oermany by Amy Fay. 
 
218 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 been freer from the faults of vanity, petty jealousy and envy which so 
 often mar the artistic temperament. Liszt's generous encouragement 
 and financial support of Wagner in the struggling days of his un- 
 popularity have never been surpassed in the brotherhood of art. 
 Liszt is akin to Berlioz in many respects; we feel the same natural 
 tendency to derive musical inspiration from external sources, poetic, 
 pictorial or from the realm of Nature. Purely as a musician, how- 
 ever, Liszt was far greater, with a wider vocabulary and more power 
 in thematic development. His work also is somewhat uneven; mo- 
 ments of real beauty alternating with passages which are trivial, 
 bombastic or mere lifeless padding. When we bear in mind Liszt's 
 unparalleled versatility, his output in quantity and variety is so 
 amazing — there being well over 1,000 works of about every kind — 
 that it is unfair to expect the style to be as finely wrought as the 
 original conception is noble. A serious and unbiased study of his 
 best compositions will convince one that Liszt is entitled to high rank 
 as a musician of genuine poetic inspiration. The average music- 
 lover is prone to dwell upon him as the composer of Les Preludes, 
 the Hungarian Rhapsodies, and as the somewhat flashy transcriber 
 of operatic potpourris, such as the Rigoletto Fantasie. But Les 
 Preludes, notwithstanding a certain charm and the clever manner in 
 which the music (without becoming minutely descriptive) supple- 
 ments the poem of Lamartine, is yet barred from the first rank by its 
 mawkishness of sentiment and by its cloying harmonies. The 
 most significant among the symphonic poems are Orpheus with its 
 characteristic crescendos and diminuendos; Tasso of great nobihty 
 •Vnd pathos, and Mazeppa, a veritable tour de force of descriptive 
 fmting. To hear any one of these masterpieces can not fail to alter 
 the opinion of those who may have considered Liszt as exclusively 
 given over to sensational effects. As for the Hungarian Rhapso- 
 dies, which Liszt intended as a kind of national ballade and so, for 
 the basic themes and rhythms, drew largely on Hungarian Folk 
 music, here again the public, with its fondness for being dazzled, has 
 laid exclusive stress on the flashy ones to the detrunent of those 
 containing much that is noble and of enduring worth. In his tran- 
 scriptions of standard songs Liszt did as valuable a public service 
 as any popularizer, and has thereby made familiar the melodies of 
 Schubert and Schumann to hundreds who otherwise would know 
 nothing of them. In considering Liszt's pianoforte works we must 
 remember that he was a born virtuoso with a natural fondness for 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 219 
 
 exploiting the possibilities of his instrument, and with an amazing 
 technique as a performer. When the sincerity of a composer is in 
 question there is a great difference as to what should be the standard 
 of judgment, whether the work be for orchestra or for pianoforte. 
 In writing for orchestra the composer naturally centres himself on the 
 pure ideas and their treatment, as the execution is something entirely 
 external to himself. In works for pianoforte, however, the composer 
 who is also a virtuoso will often, and quite 'justifiably, introduce 
 passages of purely pianistic effect which in other circumstances would 
 amount to a confession of deficient imagination. That Liszt at times 
 abused his facility in decoration need not be gainsaid, and yet 
 how poetic and eloquent are his best pianoforte compositions! — 
 the Etudes, the Waldesrauschen, the Ballade and, above all, the 
 Sonata in B minor} Much unjust criticism has been expended upon 
 Liszt for treating the pianoforte like an orchestra. As a matter of 
 fact he widened, in a perfectly legitimate way, the possibiUties of the 
 instrument as to sonority, wealth and variety of color-effect. Accord- 
 ing to the testimony of contemporary colleagues, Rubinstein, Taussig 
 and von Billow who, had they not been convinced of his supremacy, 
 might well have been jealous, Liszt was incontestably the greatest 
 interpreter of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin; and his power as a 
 Beethoven scholar is attested by the poetically annotated edition 
 of the Sonatas. It is often asserted that Liszt lacked spontaneous 
 melodic invention. This is a hard saying unless taken in a relative 
 sense. We may grant that Liszt was neither a Schubert nor a Mozart, 
 and yet recognize in his works some extremely haunting melodies. 
 His creative power was acknowledged by Wagner and in a very 
 practical manner. In fact, after a comparative study of their works, 
 one is amazed at the number of melodies which Wagner borrowed 
 from Liszt and at the generous complaisance of the latter. The 
 reactive influence of Liszt and Wagner, each upon the other, is an 
 interesting chapter in the development of modern art. Liszt was 
 undoubtedly encouraged in his revolutionary aims by Wagner's 
 fiery courage. Wagner, on his side, owed much to Liszt's unselfish 
 generosity; and with his more powerful constructive gifts worked up 
 into enduring form motives which, internal evidence clearly shows, 
 came from Liszt himself. 
 
 Just a few closing words as to Liszt's specific contributions to the 
 
 1 For a most entertaining description of this work see the Huneker Biography, 
 pp. 64-70. 
 
220 MUSIC: AN AET AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 expansion of musical structure. He was an advanced leader in the 
 "program school," being endowed with considerably more construc- 
 tive power than Berlioz, who often fell between two stools: in that 
 while his subject demanded the freest treatment, he lacked the vigor 
 to break away from the formal routine of his classic models. In 
 Liszt's orchestral works, however, the term "Symphonic Poem" — 
 one of his own invention — is fully justified, i. e., they are symphonic 
 in that they have organic unity, although this is not attained by pre- 
 serving the classic number and arrangement of themes; and they are 
 also poetic, being not a presentation of abstract tone patterns, but 
 illustrative of some external idea which shapes the course of the music 
 entirely to its own needs.^ 'The distinguishing quality of the Sym- 
 phonic Poem is its unbroken continuity. Although objective points 
 are reached, and while there are broad lines of demarcation with 
 reference to the varied moods of the poem to be illustrated, there are 
 no rigid stops — everything is fused together into a continuous whole. 
 Liszt was an advocate of persistent development, i. e., the music 
 going out into space like a straight line instead of returning on it- 
 self. Inner evidence shows, however, that although he avoided many 
 needless and conventional repetitions, he could not entirely throw 
 overboard the cyclical law of restatement; for there is not one of his 
 Symphonic Poems which does not repeat, at the end, thematic mate- 
 rial already heard. Liszt carried the principle of theme transforma- 
 tion still further than Berlioz; and, as a German, tended to lay stress 
 rather on the psychological aspects of character than on those out- 
 ward theatric events which appeal to French taste. The difference 
 is well shown by a comparison of the Damnation of Faust with Liszt's 
 Faust Symphony, considered his most inspired orchestral work. 
 Liszt must not be forgotten as a song-writer, especially for his settings 
 to Goethe's poems; which, as Huneker says, are masterpieces and 
 contain, in essence, all the dramatic lyricism of modern writers, 
 Strauss included. In these songs the instrumental part is of special 
 import; Liszt in pianistic treatment anticipating Hugo Wolf with his 
 "Songs for Voice and Pianoforte," i. e., the voice and the instrument 
 are treated as coequal factors. 
 
 The works of Liszt selected for analytical comment are the Sym- 
 phonic Poem Orpheus, the Faust Symphony and the Pianoforte Etude, 
 Wcddesrauschen. The student, however, should become familiar 
 
 > For stimulating comments see The Symplurm/ since Beethoven by Weingartner, 
 pp. 71-86. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 221 
 
 with several others^ of the Symphonic Poems, notably Tasso, Les 
 Preludes and Mazeppa; with the Pianoforte Sonata in B minor in one 
 movement, in which Liszt works on the same plan as Schumann in the 
 Fourth Symphony; with the descriptive pianoforte pieces and etudes; 
 and with the songs, of which Kennst du das Land, Die Lorelei and Du 
 Mst wie eine Blume are beautiful examples. 
 
 Symphonic Poem, Orpheus 
 
 In this work, as must always be the case in poetically suggestive 
 music, the composer trusts to the general intelligence and insight 
 of the hstener. For a mere mention of the name Orpheus may well 
 call up the vision of a majestic, godlike youth proclaiming his message 
 of joy and peace to soften the unruly passions of men and animals. 
 
 It is said that Liszt's imagination was kindled by a beautiful repre- 
 sentation of Orpheus playing on the lyre, which decorates an Etruscan 
 vase in the Louvre. The aim of the music was thus to intensify and 
 supplement the visual effect. The Poem begins with soft, sustained 
 calls on the horns, creating a mood of ejcpectancy, interspersed with 
 modulatory arpeggios on the harp serving to complete the legendary 
 picture. In these Symphonic Poems, we must always observe how 
 closely the nature of the themes and the whole import of the music 
 are involved with the orchestral dress. For Liszt, though not per- 
 haps so brilliant and sensational as Berlioz, was equally a great master 
 of orchestral coloring and poetic suggestion by means of appropriate 
 instruments; often, too, more delicate and refined. In measure 15 
 begins for sustained strings the stately march which typifies the 
 gradual approach of Orpheus. The second phrase of the march, 
 beginning in measure 38, has received the comphment of being appro- 
 priatedj almost literally, by Wagner in the second act of the Valkyrie 
 for the march motive with which Wotan is ushered in. Some beauti- 
 ful modulatory developments of the march theme, with which the 
 original horn calls are united, lead to the impassioned theme in E 
 major, sung by an English horn, which is the message of Orpheus to 
 the sons of men, e. g. 
 
 ' An enlightening and comprehensive account of each of these may be found 
 in Niecks's Programme Mutic already referred to. See also Chapter VII, pp. 
 141-155 in Vol. VI of the Oxford History for what is perhaps a rather biased 
 point of view. There is an excellent tabulation of the themes from Les Priludes 
 in Mason's Romantic Composers. 
 
222 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 i 
 
 Molto piii lento 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 i 
 
 M 
 
 m 
 
 mf) espressivo jt' 
 
 i 
 
 =E: 
 
 
 The theme is expanded by means of striking modulations until, in 
 measure 102, it is presented by the full orchestra. Some rather 
 meaningless repetitions, in detached phrases, of the Orpheus theme 
 bring us, in measure 130, to a return of the original march which is 
 finally proclaimed ff with great power and sonority. It seems to 
 typify the triumphant justification of Orpheus's appearance. The 
 dissonant modulations in the following passage, beginning measure 
 155, (in which the double basses take a dramatic part) have been 
 thought by some to represent realistically the imcouth roars of forest 
 monsters. These outcries finally subside and in the Coda, beginning 
 at measure 180, we have first a beautiful reminiscence of Orpheus's 
 message and then a last announcement of the march theme, which is 
 now presented in the form of a long diminuendo, as if the God-like 
 apparition were slowly withdrawing from our sight. A series of 
 shifting modulations (adagio and pianissimo) seems to bring a cloud 
 before our enraptured senses, and the work closes with a long sustained 
 chord in C major, ppp, giving an elemental idea of peace and satisfac- 
 tion. From the standpoint of musical structure the work is a cres- 
 cendo followed by a diminuendo and, poetically considered, is a con- 
 vincing picture in terms of music of the effect made upon Liszt's 
 imagination by the legend of Orpheus. Observe that, although the 
 composition is free in form, it is not formless.^ The main lines are 
 the familiar ones of statement, contrast and restatement, i. e., three- 
 part form, and the key-relationship is clear and carefully planned. 
 
 ' An allegation often brought against Liszt's work by those whose conception 
 of " form " is that of a cast-iron mould. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 
 
 223 
 
 The Faust Symphony 
 
 This work, although embodying Liszt's favorite ideas of dramatic 
 characterization and transformation of theme as found in the Sym- 
 phonic Poems, more nearly resembles the ordinary symphony in that 
 it is in three distinct movements — with pauses between — which 
 stand, respectively, for the three chief characters in Goethe's drama: 
 Faust, Gretchen and Mephistopheles. In the Faust Symphony the 
 principle of transformation or metamorphosis of themes is of such 
 importance that it may be defined as their rhythmic, melodic and 
 harmonic modification for the purpose of changing the meaning to 
 correspond with a modification in the characters for which they stand. 
 The first movement sets before us five themes illustrative of the most 
 prominent traits in the complex nature of Faust; the three most im- 
 portant being (a) typical of brooding, speculative inquiry, (6) the 
 longing of love, (c) the enthusiasm and chivalry of Faust, e. g. 
 
 Lenio assai 
 (a) 
 
 The development of these themes is entirely free, the musical texture 
 being held together by a general application of the principle of con- 
 trast and by a logical key-scheme. The second movement has two 
 main themes, e. g. 
 
224 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AJSTD A LANGUAGE 
 
 Andante soave 
 (a) Oboe 
 
 ^S^^^^ 
 
 -tef-fi' 
 
 s 
 
 p dolce 
 Viola 
 
 fe 
 
 l?:6=?r:=f=P=^i-- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^=t 
 
 £^=f 
 
 etc. 
 
 i 
 
 w 
 
 ^.-- -^ 
 
 (6) Strings 
 
 % 
 
 ^mm 
 
 =i=t 
 
 i ^^4 -4- 
 
 ■pp dolce amoroso 
 
 f 
 
 etc. 
 
 -.^ 
 
 ^—4- 
 
 ».lg 
 
 
 which portray eloquently the sweetness and dreamy ecstacy of 
 Gretchen's nature. In the course of this portrayal there appear 
 several themes from the first movement showing, by their transforma- 
 tion, the effect upon the introspective Faust of the awakening in- 
 fluence of love. Thus the love theme appears as — 
 
 Andante 
 
 ^r^m^ 
 
 and also later in this form — 
 
 J^P^ 
 
 :-zi=t 
 
 :« 
 
 =^:p= 
 
 pp 
 
 f-r^f-h4 - 
 
 etc 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 226 
 
 Towards the close of the movement there is a subtle reference to the 
 chivalrous theme, as follows — 
 
 fe 
 
 W^ r^=^^ 
 
 
 -a 
 
 Much of the appeal of the music depends upon the orchestration which 
 throughout is of remarkable beauty. 
 
 In the final movement, entitled Mephistopheles, there are a few 
 independent themes which portray the maUgn influence of the spirit 
 of Evil — the movement is marked Allegro vivace ironico! — but 
 most of the material is a transformation of the Faust themes which 
 are here burlesqued, parodied; as if all the noble aspirations of Faust 
 were being mocked and set at naught. This treatment is a perfectly 
 logical result of the correspondence, for which Liszt was striving, 
 between the music and the spirit of the underlying drama. As for 
 the final impressiveness of his artistic message, the composer may 
 well have felt that the effect would be indefinite without the specific 
 meaning which words alone can give. For the style is very subjective 
 throughout; that is, if the hearer is in a responsive condition, an effect 
 is produced on his imagination — otherwise, not. To close the work, 
 therefore, in the most moving and dignified manner, Liszt, with un- 
 erring instinct and following the precedent of Beethoven in the Ninth 
 Symphony, introduces a chorus of men's voices — marked Andante 
 Mistico ^ which intones the famous stanza "AUes Vergangliche"' 
 at the close of the second part of Faust; while, above this chorus, a 
 solo tenor proclaims the motto of the redeeming love of woman, 
 "Das ewig WeibUche" — a sentiment so dear to the German* mind 
 
 ' Translated as follows by Bayard Taylor: — 
 
 Chorus Misticus 
 All things transitory 
 But as symbols are sent; 
 Earth's insufficiency 
 Here grows to Event; 
 The Indescribable, 
 Here it is done: 
 The Woman-Soul leadeth us 
 Upward and on ! 
 
 * The way in which the Germans in the recent war have applied this doctrine 
 raises, we must say, many searching questions. 
 
226 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 and one that plays such an important part in the music dramas of 
 Wagner. A dramatic and musical connection between the move- 
 ments is . established by using, for this solo part, the melody (in- 
 tensified by augmentation) which in the second movement typified 
 the love and charm of Gretchen, e. g. 
 
 Das e - - wig. Weib - lich - e 
 
 W n-T^^^m^ ,- r J J I I I', f- 
 
 Notwithstanding the ultra sensationalism in some of Liszt's works 
 there is no doubt that, in the closing pages of Faust, he has produced 
 an effect of genuine power and of inspired musical beauty .• Faust, 
 in fact, may be called a great work because of the character of its 
 leading melodies, its freedom of structure and expression and its 
 wealth of appropriate orchestral color. For these merits we may 
 overlook certain dreary passages where it would surely seem as if 
 the imagination of the composer were not able to translate into tones 
 all the phases of Goethe's stupendous drama.^ 
 
 In a book such as this, chiefly concerned with broad principles 
 of structure and style, it would be out of place to attempt a detailed 
 account of Liszt's numerous and varied pianoforte compositions. 
 But they can by no means be left out of consideration by anyone who 
 wishes to gain a comprehensive estimate of his influence. For al- 
 though the fundamental principles of pianoforte style, both in writing 
 for the instrument and in playing upon it, are derived from Chopin 
 and Schumann,' Liszt so amplified the work of these men and added 
 so many novel features of his own in pianistic effect and especially in 
 execution that he is rightly considered a genius of the instrument. 
 He certainly brought out of the pianoforte a sonority and wealth of 
 color which heretofore had been associated only with the orchestra. 
 The chief groups of the pianoforte works are (1) the trajiscriptions 
 of songs, notably of Schubert and Schumann, a^id of operas, par- 
 ticularly of Wagner. In this group should also be included the re- 
 
 ' That this is the verdict of the public is shown by the fact that, whenever of 
 late years Faust has been given by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, it has had 
 to be repeated by popular request. 
 
 * For further comments on the work see Huneker's Franz Liszt, pp. 141-146 
 and the third part (on Program Music) of Finck's R. Strauss, The Man and Sit 
 Wnrks. Also Chap. VII passim in Vol. VI of the Oxford History. 
 
 ' Weber and Schubert had, of course, done valuable pioneer work. 
 
BERLIOZ AND LISZT 227 
 
 markable arraJigement for solo-pianoforte of all the Beethoven Sym- 
 phonies. (2) The Etudes, especially the set entitled "Etudes d'exe- 
 cution transcendante" — a description which clearly shows the idea 
 Liszt set before himself and indubitably attained; of this set the one 
 in F minor is particularly fine. (3) The world-famed Hungarian 
 Rhapsodies, fifteen in number, based on national melodies and 
 rhythms. In these Liszt aspired to be the poet of his nation, and 
 they are still among the most important manifestations of the 
 national spirit so prominent in our modern music. Perhaps the 
 most eloquent and celebrated are the 2d, the 12th and the 14th. 
 Even if at times they are overencrusted with effects meant primarily 
 for display, the rhythmic vitality and color of the melodies cannot 
 be withstood. 
 
 Concert Etude, WaMesrauschen 
 (See Supplement No. 59) 
 
 This composition begins with a swaying, cantabile theme for the left 
 hand very characteristic of Liszt, which stands out in relief against 
 some beautifully placed arabesque figures in the upper register of the 
 instrument — the whole to be played una corda, dolce con grazia. 
 It really is a poetic picture, in terms of music, of the delicious murmur 
 of the woods. In the 15th measure the theme is transferred to the 
 right hand, in octaves, over sonorous, widely extended groups below. 
 The theme is expanded through a series of striking modulations and 
 then returns, in measure 30, to the left hand in a single melodic line. 
 This middle portion, measures 30-50, is very beautiful in its genuine 
 atmospheric treatment. Towards its close, however, Liszt's fondness 
 for sensational effect rather runs away with him and there is a good 
 deal, in measures 50-60 (marked martellato, strepitoso and fff), 
 which is rather difficult to reconcile with the poetic subject. Per- 
 haps a mighty wind is roaring through the trees! In measure 61 the 
 theme is once more presented in amplified form by the right hand, 
 piii mosso and molto appassionata, and worked up to a brilliant 
 chmax — ending with an interlocking trill and a long, descending pas- 
 sage of delightful sensuous effect. The closing measures, una corda 
 and dolcissimo, afford a reminiscence of the haunting appeal of the 
 chief melody. All in all, in spite of a certain admixture of alloy, 
 here is a poetic composition, a real tone-picture of the woods and of 
 the effects imphed by the title. Certainly a piece which, in its 
 
228 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 picturesque suggestiveness and pianistic treatment, may fairly be 
 called the ancestor of much that is beautiful in such modern composers 
 as Debussy and Ravel. 
 
 As a final estimate of Liszt and as a suggestion for the student's 
 attitude we cite from Niecks the following quotation, since, in our 
 opinion, it is true and forcibly expressed: 
 
 "Liszt's works are too full of originality and striking expressive- 
 ness to deserve permanently the neglect that has been their lot. Be, 
 however, the ultimate fate of these works what it may, there will 
 always remain to Liszt the fame of a daring striver, a fruitful origin- 
 ator and a wide-ranging quickener." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 BRAHMS 
 
 A FTER the novel and brilliant work of the Romanticists had 
 ■^ *■ reached its height in the compositions just studied, it seemed as 
 if there were nothing more for music to do. Wagner, with his special 
 dramatic aims and gorgeous coloring, loomed so large on the horizon 
 that for a time all other music was dwarfed. It is, therefore of real 
 significance that just in this interregnum two men, born in the early 
 years of the 19th century, were quietly laying the foundations for 
 eloquent works in absolute or symphonic music. These men were 
 Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) and Cesar Franck (1822-1890). Fol- 
 lowing a few preliminary remarks about the significance of symphonic 
 slyle in general, the next chapters will be devoted to an account of their 
 works and influence. 
 
 A striking feature in the development of music since 1850 is the 
 number of symphonies produced by the representative composers of 
 the various nations; and the manner in which these works embody 
 certain phases of style and manifest national tendencies is a subject 
 of great interest. Ever since Beethoven, there has been a universal 
 feeling that the symphony is the form in which a composer should 
 express his highest thoughts. If Wagner and Richard Strauss seem 
 to be exceptions, we must remember that their work for orchestra is 
 thoroughly symphonic both in material and in scope. The difference 
 is chiefly one of terms. Wagner claimed that he merely applied to 
 dramatic purposes Beethoven's thematic development; and the tone- 
 
BRAHMS 229 
 
 poems of Strauss are symphonies in essence though on a free poetic 
 basis. Every composer has taken up the writing of a symphony with 
 a serious purpose and often comparatively late in Ufe. To be siire, 
 Beethoven's first Symphony,op. 21, was composed in his thirtieth year; 
 but for the works which manifest most strongly his personality, such 
 as the Third, Fifth and Ninth, we have to wait until a later period. 
 Schumann essayed symphonic composition only after his technique 
 had been developed in every other field. JBrahms's fiirst Symphony, 
 on which he is said to have worked ten years, is op. 68. Cesar Franck 
 looked forward to a Symphony as the climax of his career. The day 
 has passed when a composer could dash oflf symphonies by the dozen; 
 quality and genuine personality in each work are the modern require- 
 ments. Thus from Brahms we have four symphonies, from Tchai- 
 kowsky six, from Bruckner nine — a dangerously large number! — 
 from Sibehus five, from Elgar two, from d'Indy three; and, even if a 
 composer write but a single really inspired and noble symphony — 
 as for example, Cesar Franck — he is in so far immortal. For the 
 symphonic form is the product of too much intense striving (think of 
 Beethoven's agonies of conception!) to be treated lightly. Beginning 
 with the operatic overture of Lullyand Scarlatti, called "Sinfonia 
 avanti I'opera," down through the labors of Stamitz, Gossec, Em- 
 manuel Bach, Haydn and Mozart, this form, as we know it to-day, is 
 the result of at least a century and a half of sustained, constructive 
 work. A musician who wishes to compose a symphony is brought 
 face to face with the formidable question, "Have I a real message to 
 utter and the technical skill to present it in communicable form?" 
 There are no accessory appeals to the other senses in the way of a 
 dramatic story, scenic effect, dancing and costumes — as in opera 
 — to cloak poverty of invention and to mollify the judgment of the 
 Hstener. I grant that the composition of an original opera is a high 
 achievement, but we know how many composers have won success in 
 the operatic field from whom we should never expect a symphony. 
 From comparatively few have we great works in both forms. Con- 
 sider, furthermore, how complicated a tool is the present orchestra, 
 as a tool, to say nothing of the invention of ideas. Many years of 
 study are required to attain a certainty of calculation in sonority 
 and nuance, and the mere writing out the score of a symphony re- 
 quires unremitting toil. We all pay homage to life: human life in 
 men, women and children, and the Ufe of nature in animals, birds, 
 trees and flowers. Let us ever remember that the imagination also 
 
230 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 has its products and the themes of a symphony may certainly be con- 
 sidered its children. The public often seems to have slight idea of 
 the sanctity and mystery of a musical idea. Composers are con- 
 sidered people with a kind of "knack" in writing down notes. In 
 reality, a musical idea is as wonderful a thing as we can conceive — a 
 miracle of life and yet intangible, ethereal. The composer appar- 
 ently creates something out of nothing, pure fancy being wrought into 
 terms of communication. Since the close of the Romantic period 
 proper, the Symphonic composers of vmiversal recognition have been 
 Brahms, Franck, Tchaikowsky, d'Indy, SibeKus, Bruckner, Mahler, 
 Dvorak, Elgar, and a few lesser men of the Russian and French schools. 
 Their works carry still further the principles which can be traced from 
 Beethoven down through the Romantic School, i.e., the chief themes 
 are of a highly subjective natiu-e, often in fact being treated like 
 actual characters in a drama; and great freedom is shown in regard 
 to mood and order of the usual symphonic movements — this being 
 particularly true of Mahler and Bruckner. A distinct feature of 
 interest in the work of Tchaikowsky, Dvorak and Sibelius is the 
 introduction of exotic types of melody and rhythm, drawn tfrom 
 national sources. Thus Tchaikowsky, who said that he wished all 
 his instrumental music to sound hke a glorified Russian folk-song, uses 
 rhythms of 5 and (in his chamber music) 7 beats a measure, with 
 frequent touches of old modal harmony. Dvorak founds his harmony 
 and modulations on the exceedingly chromatic scale of the Bohemians; 
 and his piquant and dashing rhythms could come only from a nation 
 which has no less than forty national dances. In listening to Sibehus, 
 we are conscious of the wild sweep of the wind, of unchained forces of 
 nature; and there are the same traits of virile strength and grim 
 dignity which have made the Kalevala, Finland's national poem, 
 one of the great epics of the world. Although Brahms never lets us 
 forget that he is a Teuton, there are frequent traces in his composi- 
 tions of the Hungarian element — so dear to all the Vieimese com- 
 posers — as well as of German folk-songs; and the most artistic 
 treatment we have of Hungarian rhythms is found in his two sets of 
 Hungarian dances. 
 
 It is manifestly beyond the scope of a single book to treat com- 
 prehensively each of the symphonists in the list just cited, so I shall 
 dwell chiefly upon the characteristics of Brahms, Franck, Tchai- 
 kowsky and d'Indy as probably the greatest, and touch only inciden- 
 tally upon the others, as of somewhat lesser import; though if anyone 
 
BRAHMS 231 
 
 take issue with this preference in regard to Mahler and Bruckner I 
 shall not combat him. For I believe Mahler to be a real genius; 
 feeling, however, that his wonderful conceptions are sometimes not 
 expressed in the most convincing manner. There is no doubt that 
 Mahler has not yet received his due valuation, but his time will 
 surely come. As for Bruckner, we have from him some of the most 
 elemental and powerful ideas in modern music — witness the dirge in 
 the Seventh Symphony with its impressive scoring for trombones and 
 Bayreuth tubas, a movement Beethoven might have signed; although 
 with the virgin gold there is mixed, it must be confessed, a large 
 amount of crude alloy, and there are dreary stretches of waste sand. 
 
 Johannes Brahms, like Beethoven, with whom his style has many 
 afi&nities, was a North-German, born in 1833 in the historic seaport 
 town of Hamburg.^ Brahms came of lowly though respectable and 
 intelligent parents, his father being a double-bass player in one of the 
 theatre orchestras. That the positiveness of character, so conspic- 
 uous in his famous son, was an inherited trait may be seen from the 
 following anecdote. The director of the theatre orchestra once asked 
 father Brahms not to play so loud; whereupon he replied with dignity, 
 "Herr Kapellmeister, this is my double-bass, I want you to under- 
 stand, and I shall play it as loud as I please." The music of Brahms 
 in its bracing vigor has been appropriately compared to a mixture of 
 sea air and the timbre of this instrument. 
 
 Brahms's mother was a deeply reUgious woman who imbued her 
 son with a seriousness of purpose which runs through all his work. 
 From his earUest years he was trained for music, as a matter of course, 
 and showed marked precocity as a pianist, though it soon became 
 evident that he also was endowed with rare creative gifts. The 
 young student made such progress under Marxsen, a famous teacher 
 of the period, that at the age of fifteen he gave a public concert, on 
 the program of which stood some original pieces of his own. The 
 next few years were spent in diligent study and in the composition 
 of some of his early works, of which the Scherzo op. 4 is the most 
 significant. Brahms was extraordinarily precocious and during these 
 formative years manifested a trait which is noticeable throughout 
 his career — that of knowing exactly what end he had in view and 
 of setting to work quickly and steadily to attain it. Finally in 1853, 
 when he was twenty, he was invited to participate in the memorable 
 
 * Noted as being the original centre of national German opera and for its 
 associations with the early career of Handel. 
 
232 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 concert-tour with the Hungarian Violinist Remenyi, which was the 
 cause of his being brought before the pubHc under the auspices of 
 three such sponsors as Schumann, Liszt and Joachim. It seems 
 that, at one of the concerts in a small town, the pianoforte was a semi- 
 tone too low, whereupon young Brahms transposed at sight a difficult 
 Beethoven Sonata into the requisite higher key. This remarkable 
 feat of musicianship so impressed Joachim, who was in the audience, 
 that he gave Brahms two letters of introduction — one to Liszt at 
 Weimar and one to Schumann at Diisseldorf on the Rhine. Follow- 
 ing up these letters, Brahms now spent six weeks at Weimar with 
 Liszt, assimilating important points of method and style. Although 
 the two natures were somewhat unsympathetic, Liszt was so impressed 
 with the creative power and character of Brahms's first compositions, 
 that he tried to adopt him as an adherent of the advanced school of 
 modern music; while Brahms was led, as some would claim, through 
 Liszt's influence to an appreciation of the artistic effects to be found 
 in Hungarian music. Brahms's visit to Schumann in the autumn 
 of 1853 was in its consequences a significant incident. After hearing 
 Brahms's music, Schumann wrote for the "Neue Zeitschrift" an 
 article entitled "Neue Bahnen" ("New Paths") in which the young 
 composer was heralded as the master for whom the world had been 
 waiting, the successor of Beethoven in the symphonic style. Through 
 Schumann's influence, the pubUshers Breitkopf and Hartel at once 
 brought out Brahms's first works, which were by no means received 
 by the public with general favor; in fact they provoked as bitter 
 discussion as those of Wagner, and made headway slowly. For 
 four years — from 1854 to 1858 — Brahms was in the service of the 
 Prince of Lippe-Detmold, a small principality near Hanover, where 
 the court was a quiet one, thus affording ample time for composition 
 and private study. Brahms's strength of purpose and unusual power 
 of self-criticism are shown by the way in which this period was spent. 
 Although he had made a brilliant debut, Brahms now imposed upon 
 himself a course of rigorous technical training, appeared seldom be- 
 fore the public and published no compositions; his object being to 
 free himself from a narrow subjectivity and to give scope to his wide 
 human sympathies and to his passion for perfection of utterance. 
 It seemed to him that a plausible originality might degenerate into 
 mere idiosyncrasy, and that universality of appeal should be a 
 musician's highest goal. When he resigned his post and came before 
 the public with his first large work, a concerto for pianoforte and or- 
 
BRAHMS 233 
 
 chestra, the gain made in increased power and resources was evident. 
 The greatest tribute which can be paid Brahms is that he has summed 
 up and united the classic principles of clearness and solidity of work- 
 manship with the warmth and spontaneity of the Romantic School. 
 In 1862 Brahms settled in Vienna where, for thirty-five years, his 
 career was entirely free from external incidents of note; his time 
 spent in quiet steady work and in the attainment of artistic ideals. 
 His slow logical development is like that of Beethoven, due to the 
 fact that his works were far from numerous, but finished with the 
 greatest care. The standard of creative quaUty is also very high; 
 comparatively few of Brahms's works are not altogether aUve. 
 Matthew Arnold's beautiful hnes on labor are applicable to Brahms. 
 "Work which in lasting fruit outgrows far noisier schemes; aceom- 
 pUshed in repose; too great for haste; too high for rivalry." Brahms 
 thus described to Mr. Henschel, a former conductor of the Boston 
 Symphony Orchestra, his ideals concerning composing: "There is 
 no real creating without hard work; that which you caU invention 
 is simply an inspiration from above, for which I am not responsible, 
 which is no merit of mine." And again, "Whether a composition is 
 beautiful is one consideration, but perfect it must be." The few of 
 his compositions which show connection with outward events are 
 the Deutsches Requiem, his best-known choral work (in commemora- 
 tion of his mother's death) and the Academic Overture, composed 
 in place of the conventional thesis, when — in 1880 — the University 
 of Breslau conferred on him a doctor's degree. This Overture, based 
 on several convivial student songs, is on the whole his most genial 
 composition for orchestra and has won a deserved popularity the 
 world over.' For sustained fancy his most beautiful work for chorus 
 and orchestra is the Schicksalslied (Song of Destiny). Symphonic 
 composition, as has been said, came in the latter part of Brahms's 
 career, his first work in that form being op. 68. After that, within 
 a few years, three other symphonies were composed. His last works 
 include the significant pianoforte pieces called Intermezzi — not all 
 equally inspired, but many representing the finest flower of Brahms's 
 genius; four serious songs for bass voice, and one posthumous work. 
 Eleven Choral Preludes for Organ. Brahms died in 1897 and Ues 
 buried in Vienna not far from Beethoven and Schubert. 
 
 From Brahms we have beautiful works in every branch of com- 
 
 1 Another very fine work In this class is the Tragic Overture, worthy of the 
 deepest study. 
 
234 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 position save the opera and symphonic poem. (He once said he 
 would risk neither an opera nor getting married!) Very few of his 
 works have titles, and in this respect he stood somewhat aloof from 
 that strong tendency in modern times — the connection between music 
 and poetic and literary sources of inspiration. But he had a right 
 to choose his own line of effort; it is for us to become familiar with 
 his works as they are. They comprise about two hundred songs, 
 three pianoforte sonatas and many lesser pieces, two concertos for 
 pianoforte and orchestra, a wonderfully fine violin concerto, four 
 symphonies — each with a character of its own — and a large group 
 of chamber compositions: string _ quartets, sonatas for violin and 
 pianoforte, trios, and a number of works for unusual ensemble com- 
 binations — the Trio for Violin, Horn and Pianoforte being the best 
 known. 
 
 As to the nature of Brahms's music the following comments are 
 submitted for consideration. He was not a colorist or a styUst in 
 the broad sense of those terms, i. e., color and style were not the prime 
 ingredients in his music. There is light and shade in Brahms but 
 seldom that rich and varied glow found, for example, in Rimsky- 
 Korsakoff — that supreme master of orchestral coloring. As for 
 style, it may be said that his work fulfils Matthew Arnold's defi- 
 nition of that desirable quality, "To have something to say and to 
 say it in the most simple and direct manner possible." We some- 
 times feel, however, that he is thinking more of what he has to say 
 than of outward eloquence of expression. But when there are so 
 many composers' in whom there is far more style than substance, 
 we should not carp at Brahms for the "stuff" in his work. The 
 matter might be put in a nut-shell by saying that Brahms is Brahms; 
 you accept him or leave him, as you see fit. The bulk of his music 
 not only has stood the test of time but becomes more potent each 
 year; surely this is the highest possible endorsement. He is rightly 
 considered a great master of pure melodic line and a consummate 
 architect, especially in the conciseness and concentration of certain 
 compositions, e. g., the Third Symphony, and in his superb mastery 
 of the Variation form which is the basis of some of his most famous 
 works for orchestra and for pianoforte. His texture is of marked 
 richness and variety; seldom do we find verbiage or lifeless padding. 
 He has been called the Browning of music — a deep thinker in tones. 
 Genuine appreciation of Brahms presupposes work on the part of 
 
 ' We cite Saint-Saens, as one instance. 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 235 
 
 the music-lover; and the recognition should be more general that the 
 imaginative stimulation gained only through work is one of the 
 blessings music has to bestow. 
 
 It is often alleged, indeed, that to enjoy Brahms one has to work. 
 Of course, but what repaying work! This may be said equally of 
 Shakespeare, of Dante, of Browning, of Bach and of every poet with 
 a serious message. The vitaUty of Brahms's creative power, like 
 that of Beethoven, is seen in his rhythm. He had a highly developed 
 rhythmic sense, and in his fondness for syncopations, for contrasted 
 accents and for complicated metric groups he is the logical successor 
 of Schumann. One of his favorite devices is the altered grouping of 
 the notes in a measure, so that there is a contrast between duple 
 and triple rhythm, e. g., the following passage in the Second Sym- 
 phony, where an effect of great vigor is produced. 
 
 Allegro rum troppo 
 
 i 
 
 j_ 
 
 J ii 
 
 f^^^^^^^ 
 
 iw 
 
 ^^ 
 
 // 1, 
 
 ^ 
 
 2 
 
 A. 
 
 I 
 
 -A 
 
 3 
 
 -J- 
 
 ^g 
 
 S 
 
 A_j: 
 
 =#it 
 
 5_^^ 
 
 3- 
 
 ^m 
 
 i 1 i I I 2 
 
 4-s- J^^g^ /j^J^ 
 
 
 U 
 
 ^ 
 
 marcato 
 
 ^M 
 
 1 2 3 12 3 
 
 I 
 
 #^ ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 -b^ 
 
 ^ 
 
236 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 There are never in Brahms weak or conventional rhythms. He is 
 also one of the great modern song-composers, representing with 
 Strauss, Wolf and Mahler the culmination of the German Lied. In 
 his songs there is a warmth and depth of sentiment as yet unsur- 
 pass.ed, and the accompaniment is always a highly wrought factor 
 in the work. In estimating the value of Brahms's compositions as a 
 whole, it is difl&cult to hold the balance true. Those to whom he is 
 sympathetic through an affinity of temperament revere him as one 
 of the great geniuses for all time, while to others his message is not 
 of such convincing power. The effect of inborn temperament in the 
 pertonal appeal made by any composer is vividly shown by the 
 estimate which Tchaikowsky and Brahms had for one another. 
 Each felt respect for the sincerity and artistic skill of his contem- 
 porary, at the same time regretfully acknowledging that the essence 
 of the music meant little to him. To Tchaikowsky Brahms seemed 
 cold and lacking in melodic spontaneity; to Brahms, on the other 
 hand, Tchaikowsky seemed superficial, sensational. The gist of the 
 matter is that Brahms was a Teuton and wrote with characteristic 
 Teutonic reserve and dignity. Tchaikowsky, being a Slav, wrote 
 with the impassioned lack of restraint and volatility of mood asso- 
 ciated with that people. How could it be otherwise? Each was a 
 genuine artist, expressing his natural feelings with clearness and 
 conviction; and each should be respected for what he did: not one at 
 the expense of the other. In Brahms, however, the question does 
 arise of facility of expression versus worthiness of expression. He 
 had an unparalleled technique in the manipulation of notes but 
 whether there was always an emotional impulse behind what he 
 wrote is debatable. For there are these two contrasting types in 
 every art: works which come from the heart (remember Beethoven's 
 significant inscription at the end of his Mass),^ and those which come 
 from the head. This brings us face to face with the perplexing 
 question as to the essence of music. To some it is a record of intel- 
 lectual activity tinged with emotion; to others, an emotional out- 
 pouring controlled by intellect. These two types of music will 
 always exist, being the natural expression of the corresponding 
 classes in human nature. 
 
 Brahms's music is sometimes called dry, but this is a misuse of 
 terms. To draw an analogy from another sense, we might rejoin 
 that the best champagne is "sec," all the superfluous, cloying sugar 
 
 ' " From the heart it has come, to the heart it shall go." 
 
BBAHMS 237 
 
 being removed. There is plenty of saccharine music in the world for 
 those who Uke it. In Brahms, however, we find a potential energy 
 and a manly tenderness which cannot be ignored even by those who 
 are not profoundly thrilled by his message. He was a sincere idealist 
 and composed to please his own high standards, never thinking of 
 outward effect nor testing the pulse of the fickle public. As a man 
 there is no doubt that he was warm-hearted and vigorous, but his was 
 not the nature to come forward with captivating geniality. On the 
 contrary he expects the hearer to come to him, and is too reserved to 
 meet you more than half-way. That this austerity has proved a bar 
 in the way of a wide-spread fame, while to be regretted, is unavoid- 
 able; remove these characteristics from Brahms and he ceases to be 
 Brahms. Those, however, who may think that Brahms is always 
 austere and grim, holding himself aloof from broad human emotion, 
 should remember that he has done more than any other modern 
 composer to idealize the Waltz; and, if the atmosphere of his sym- 
 phonic style be too rarified, they may well begin their effort in appre- 
 ciation with those charming Waltzes op. 39 (both for solo pianoforte 
 and for a four-hand arrangement); the Hungarian Dances, and — 
 most beautiful of aU — the Liebeslieder Walzer for chorus and 
 pianoforte (four-hands). Anyone who knows these works cannot 
 fail to become a genuine lover of Brahms. To be of the earth and 
 yet to strike the note of sublimity is a paradox. For, in Brahms at 
 his best, we surely find more of the sublime, of true exalted aspiration, 
 than in any other modern composer save C^sar Franck. To strike 
 this note of sublimity is the highest achievement of music — its proper 
 function; a return, as it were, to the abode whence it came. Such 
 music is far beyond that which is merely sensuous, brilliantly descrip- 
 tive, or even dramatically characteristic. Much of present day music 
 excites and thrills but does not exalt. Brahms, in his great moments, 
 lifts us high above the earth. His universal acceptance is alike 
 hindered by a deficiency which, though as natural as his reserve, may 
 yet justly be cited against him — the occasional monotony of hie 
 color scheme. Jn the symphonies, notwithstanding the dignity and 
 sincerity of thought, we find pages in the style of an engraving which 
 would be more effective as a glowing canvas, e. g., in the slow move- 
 ment of the Second SjTnphony and in the last two movements of the 
 Fourth. Many consider, however, that Brahms's orchestral treatment 
 is exactly suited to the seriousness of his ideas; so it comes down to a 
 question of individual taste. That he had his own delicate feeling for 
 
238 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 color and sensuous effect is shown in many pages of the chamber 
 music, especially in those works for unusual combinations, e. g., the 
 Clarinet Quintet, and the Trio for Violin, Horn and Pianoforte. No 
 one in modern times has used more eloquently that romantic instru- 
 ment, the horn. See, for example, the Coda to the first movement of 
 the D major Symphony and the slow movement of the Third 
 Symphony. We must gratefully acknowledge the lasting quaUty of 
 his music — without question it wears well. In fact, dif&cult though 
 it be to comprehend at a first hearing, the more it is heard, the more 
 it is enjoyed. Brahms's' music is steadily growing in popularity. 
 His orchestral works and chamber music are applauded to-day, al- 
 though twenty-five years ago they were received with apathy and 
 scornful indifference. 
 
 As a representative work in each of the four fields in which Brahms 
 created such masterpieces we have selected, for detailed analysis, the 
 First Symphony, the Sonata for Violin and Pianoforte in A fmajor, the 
 Ballade in G minor and the Song, Meine Liebe ist griln wie der Flieder- 
 busch. All four of Brahms's symphonies may justly be considered 
 great, each in its own way. For Brahms is not a man with a single 
 message and has not written one large symphony in different sections, 
 as, in a broad sense, may be said of Tchaikowsky. The Second, on 
 account of the spontaneity and direct appeal of its themes, is undoubt- 
 edly the most popular. It contains a first movement of a quasi- 
 Mendelssohnian suavity and lyric charm; a slow movement which is 
 a meditation of the profundity of Bach himself; a third movement, 
 allegretto, based on a delightful waltz of the Viennese Landler type 
 and a Finale of a Mozartian freshness and vigor — the second theme 
 being specially notable for its broad sweep. The whole work is a 
 convincing example of Brahms's vitality and "joie de vivre." The 
 Third symphony is a marvel of conciseness and virile life. The 
 Fourth, though not in all respects so inspired as the others, is famous 
 for its beautiful slow movement — with an impressive introduction 
 
 ' For literature on Brahms the following works are recommended : the com- 
 prehensive lAfe by FuUer-Maitland ; the essay in Hadow's Studies in Modem 
 Mtisic ; that in Mason's Prom Grieg to Brahms ; that by Spitta in Studies in Music 
 by Robin Grey; the first essay in Jfezzo^rats in Jfo(i«r«Jftmc by Huneker; the bio- 
 graphical and critical article in Grove's Dictionary; Chapter IX in Volmne 8 of 
 the Art of Music, and Chapter XIII in Volume 2. There are also some stimulating 
 remarks on Brahms's style in general, and on the attitude of a past generation 
 towards his work, in those delightful essays, in 2 volumes, £^ the Way, About 
 Music by the late well-known critic, W. F. Apthorp. 
 
BRAHMS 239 
 
 in the Phrygian mode (Brahms often showing a marked fondness for 
 old modal harmony) — and for the Finale, which is an illustration of 
 his polyphonic skiU in modernizing the variation form, the Passa- 
 caglia or ground bass. But the First, "^ it seems to us, is the greatest, in 
 scope, in wealth of material, in its remarkable combination of dra^ 
 matic, epic and lyric elements and in an intensity of feeling and sub- 
 limity of thought peculiar to Brahms. It is extremely subjective, of 
 deep ethical value, and sets forth a message of optimism and undying 
 hope. The structural basis is a motto, often recurring in the work, 
 which (whatever it may mean) is evidently — like the theme of the C 
 minor symphony — some fierce protest against fate. The symphony, 
 as a whole, represents a triumphant progress from struggle to vic- 
 tory. This meaning is made evident by the ever-brightening mood of 
 the successive movements, the tone of which is strengthened by the 
 scheme of key-relationship — based on an ascending series of major 
 thirds, e. g. 
 
 C Minor, E major, A-flat major, C major. 
 
 i 
 
 i^ 
 
 
 I 
 
 The work is somewhat uneven — never weak — but at times a bit 
 labored; as if the composer were consciously wrestUng with great 
 thoughts. This, however, is nothing against it, because equally true 
 of large works in other fields of art, e. g., the Agamemnon of Aeschylus 
 or Wagner's Tetralogy. It cannot be understood, much less appre- 
 ciated, without close attention and earnest thought, for it presents 
 the struggles and aspirations of mankind and is not meant solely 
 to deUght or entertaia. When the hearer has made it his own it is 
 a priceless possession for all time. The Prelude to the first movement, 
 un poco sostenuto, is of impressive solemnity, developed from the 
 motto, and based on^the almost persistent iteration of the pedal notes 
 C and G — the tonic and dominant. It proclaims that a serious 
 meaning is to be revealed, and this meaning is accentuated by the 
 orchestration which with its stratified grouping of melodic lines has 
 a grim strength characteristic of Brahms. 
 
 ' The eloquence of the work is so integrally involved with its orchestral dress 
 that it should always be studied, if possible, in the full score. For class-room 
 work excellent editions are available for two and four hands. 
 
240 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Jr. 
 
 ^ 
 
 a 
 
 
 * 
 
 I *-!— t 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 / espress e legato 
 
 3 : , 1 7 J 
 
 x 
 
 i 
 
 ^J- 
 
 etc. 
 
 M-^ 
 
 ! » ^ I* 
 
 P=P=P= 
 
 I * » 
 
 t_LJ- 
 
 The first movement proper. Allegro, in complete sonata-form, begins 
 with a J[f announcement of the impassioned, dramatic motto, e. g. 
 
 Wood Wind and Hobns 
 
 i 
 
 J,— o- 
 
 Note the cutting effect of the chromatic tones F-sharp and A-flat! 
 From this motto grows the melodic part of the first theme in two 
 balancing phrases, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 i^fi=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 fe^g 
 
 t if r T it 
 
 I 
 
 w 
 
 Then follow some stormy measures of dissonant chords and warring 
 rhythms until the theme rages itself out, in measure 52. The tran- 
 sition begins with some sharp staccato chords, as if summoning to 
 further attention. It gradually cools down through a series of beauti- 
 ful modulations and, in measure 84, the second theme — introduced 
 by calls on the horn and sung by the oboe — enters in the relative 
 major key of E-flat. This also is based on the ascending, chromatic 
 line of the motto; still further organic unity being gained by the bass, 
 which has the same melodic figure as the second phrase of the first 
 theme, e. g. 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 241 
 
 P b J! X ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 
 j0 espr. 
 
 i?S8 
 
 ^ 
 
 i2fiz 
 
 i 
 
 a 
 
 N. B. 
 
 =^3 
 
 4h 
 
 ■:^ 
 
 s 
 
 ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^? 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 Much of the previous fierceness, however, has abated and the re- 
 mainder of the second theme is of a rare loveHness, with mysterious 
 answering calls between oboes, clarinets and horns. The pp dominant 
 ninth chords at the beginning of the closing portion (measures 120- 
 122) give a positively shuddering efiFect and then the combat of clash- 
 ing rhythms is renewed. The development begins with a series of 
 shifting harmonies, at first ff and then jyp — a luU before the storm 
 -^ as if preparing the way for a stUl more terrific assault upon our 
 emotions. It is tempestuous throughout; based at first on material 
 taken from the preceding codetta and ending with an extended pre- 
 sentation of the motto over an iterated pedal note on the dominant, 
 e.g. 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 tt ii ^p h \ ^ 
 
 Si 
 
 dohx sempre 
 
 etc. 
 
 m^ 
 
 E&: 
 
 i 
 
 r r r ' r r r r r r 'rrt 
 
 The fusion of the development with the , yeeSpitulatiq^ is skiUfjilly 
 handled, and the motto is proclaimed, beginning at measur^9^,UB- 
 a series of ascending strata, with overwhelming force. The third 
 part, with sHght abridgment and necessary adjustment of key-rela- 
 tionship, conforms exactly to the exposition. There is the same 
 
242 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART ' AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 a gitato closi^ portion as before, and then the Coda proper, begin- 
 ning at measuri^421/emphasizes with fiery accents the mood of storm 
 and stress characteristic of the movement as a whole. After the 
 fury has subsided, the dramatic motto asserts itself in the closing 
 measures, poco sostenuto; the problem is still unsolved and the last 
 C major chord is but a ray of light cast on troubled waters. 
 
 The second movement, andante sostenuto — in three-part form 
 — begins with a tender melody expressing a mood of deep resignation 
 and religious hope. No sooner has it started, however, than there 
 creeps in the sinister motto, as if to remind us that life is undeniably 
 stern and grim, e. g. 
 
 m 
 
 N. B. 
 
 ^m 
 
 ^ f 
 
 pf> 
 
 pf^ 
 
 ^=5= 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Ste 
 
 / 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ 
 
 X 
 
 ^ 
 
 In measure 17 there enters a clooin g theme, sung by the oboe, of in- 
 effable beauty which is used' in the third part as the climax of the 
 movement. It surely seems to come from another world and is one 
 of the most sublime melodies by Brahms or any one else. Its climax 
 is impressively united with the main theme in the bass, e. g. 
 
 
 'mA 
 
 4-^ 
 
 -EE^ 
 
 f 
 
 p espr. 
 
 r^zT 
 
 ^F^; : : ; #5 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 243 
 
 'I N.B. i^ t i: 
 
 ^.53 
 
 The middle portion, beginning in measure 38, is a meditation — in 
 dialogue form — for solo oboe and clarinet, worked up to an elo- 
 quent climax in the key of the relative minor, C-sharp. The third 
 part, beginning measure 66, with the addition of some lovely modu- 
 latory changes, corresponds to part one; save that the melody is 
 varied by Brahms's favorite device of three notes to a beat in one 
 voice against two in another. Beginning in measure 90, the eloquent 
 closing theme of the first part is sung by a solo violin, reinforced by 
 oboe and horn. It is finally entrusted, in the home key, to the horn 
 alone, above which the solo violin soars in ecstacy, e. g. 
 
 te 
 
 Violin Solo 
 
 I ^ r I ' ^LL I ' ' 
 
 p espr. 
 
 etc. 
 
 tt? 
 
 Horn 
 
 w^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Some diminuendo, descending passages lead to a reminiscent portion 
 of the first theme and then, in measure 116, the grim motto enters, 
 but this time without prevailing; for, in measures 122-124, it is finally 
 exorcised and the movement closes with the seraphic cahn of a soft, 
 rich chord in E major, above which is heard a star-like note on the 
 solo violin. 
 
 The third movement is an Allegretto; it being Brahms's custom 
 in each' of his symphonies to substitute a movement of this type in 
 place of the conventional Scherzo or Minuet. This movement clearly 
 
 ' The only slight exception is the third movement of the Fourth Symphony 
 which, being marked Allegro giocoso, partakes somewhat of the nature of a 
 Scherzo. 
 
244 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 in three-part form, is thrown in to furnish relief after the emotional 
 tension of the movement preceding. It has no obvious organic 
 connection with the other movements, but is just the right thing in 
 its surroundings, with a note of vitality which does much to brighten 
 the scene and to prepare the way for the Finale. The opening theme 
 in A-flat major is in two phrases of five measures each — a favorite 
 rhythm with Brahms — given out by the clarinet over a pizzicato 
 bass in the 'cellos. The melodic formation is unusual in that the 
 latter phrase is an inversion of the first, e. g. 
 
 m 
 
 1^ 
 
 S 
 
 m 
 
 ps 
 
 1 — r 
 
 p dolce 
 
 P 
 
 !^=^=^=n 
 
 i 
 
 ■ o rrv 
 
 ^ 
 
 After some descending passages in thirds and sixths — one of the 
 characteristic' effects in Brahms's style — the theme is repeated in 
 the vioUns with richer scoring. The descending passage returns and 
 this time leads to the entrance of a subsidiary theme in F-minor. 
 In measures 50-51 occurs one of those cases of melodic germination 
 which entitles Brahms to be called a genuine creative artist. The 
 melody with its dashing, Hungarian zest sounds Uke something brand- 
 new and yet is logically derived from the main~theme by diminution, 
 e.g. 
 
 ^m 
 
 4^^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 
 
 This is real poetic creation, it being the prime object of a poet to 
 create in music something out of apparent nothing. After these viva- 
 
 * " Those eternal sixths and thirds." Weingartner later publicly recanted and 
 became a whole-souled convert to Brahms. (See The Symphony Since Beethoeen, 
 latest edition.) 
 
BRAHMS 245 
 
 cious developments the first paxt ends with a slight repetition of the 
 main theme. The middle part, beginning measure 71, in i time and 
 in the enharmonic key of B major (E-flat = D sharp) is noteworthy 
 for its rhythmic swing, bold syncopations and contrasted accents; 
 see especially measures 97-107. At the beginning of the third part 
 there is an effective blending of the rhythm which has just prevailed 
 with the graceful lines of the first theme. The fabric is made up of 
 effective changes, modulatory and rhythmic, in the material from the 
 first part. At the Coda, piu tranquillo, there is a delightful rem- 
 iniscence of the rhythm of the middle portion carried out to the 
 very end by the double basses.^ 
 
 The Finale is one of the most thrilling perorations in music; 
 not a perfunctory close, but a veritable Apotheosis of victorious 
 aspiration, giving an irresistible contrast to the first movement. 
 Whereas, before, there was nothing but conflict, now all is triumphant 
 joy. This movement is laid out on a vast scale, with a wealth of ma- 
 terial, including a long Prelude with a distinct theme of its own and 
 an extended Coda. The body of the movement is in abridged sonata 
 form, i. e., there is a complete Exposition with first, second and closing 
 themes, and the usual Recapitulation, but no Development proper. 
 This lack is made good by considerable variation and expansion in 
 the first part of the Resume. The Prelude begins Adagio with some 
 strains which, Uke smouldering embers, remind us of the sinister motto 
 of the first movement — note the same chromatic tones A-flat and 
 F-sharp. The following measures are of indefinite natiu«, beginning 
 piano and pizzicato as if a great body were gathering headway slowly. 
 The pace gradually quickens and we are led through a series of im- 
 petuous stringendo runs to a, ff chord which, accompanied hy a, ff 
 roll on the kettle drums, sounds like a clap of thunder and which, 
 as the reverberations die away, ushers in a most moving theme^ — 
 given out forte and sempre passionato on the horn over a pp muted 
 tremolo on the strings with a background of pp trombones, e. g. 
 
 ' A limilar effect may be found in the closing measurea of the first movement 
 of Beethoven's Eighth Symphony. 
 
 ' There is a striking analogy between the intervals of this theme and those of 
 a well-known peal in a cathedral chime, e.g. 
 
 In both the same elemental effect is produced by using the natural tones of the 
 harmonic series (see page 193) . 
 
246 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 A * I: 
 
 ^f#T4-^ 
 
 i!eE 
 
 -p- 
 
 y sempre e passionata 
 
 §^B 
 
 !1 -4 -•- ^ -I 
 
 jOjO 
 
 / 
 
 f^ 
 
 pp 
 
 -n-=^^- 
 
 ?=F=?=r_^i* 
 
 g^— "^ . ^r^ 
 
 fr=F=r^ 
 
 :R^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 J- 
 
 etc. 
 
 iii 
 
 This inspired passage* has been eloquently described by W. F. 
 Apthorp as follows: ^ 
 
 "Amid hushed, tremulous harmonies in the strings, the horn and 
 afterward the flute pour forth an utterly original melody, the char- 
 acter of which ranges from passionate pleading to a sort of wild ex- 
 ultation according to the instrument that plays it. The coloring is 
 enriched by the solemn tones of the trombones, which appear for the 
 first time in this movement. It is ticklish work trying to dive down 
 into a composer's brain, and surmise what special outside source his 
 inspiration may have had; but one cannot help feeling that this 
 whole wonderful episode may have been suggested to Brahms by the 
 tones of the Alpine horn, as it awakens the echoes from mountain 
 after mountain on some of the high passes in the Bernese Oberland. 
 This is certainly what the episode recalls to any one who has ever 
 heard those poetic tones and their echoes. A short, solemn, even 
 ecclesiastical interruption by the trombones and bassoons is of more 
 thematic importance. As the horn-tones gradually die away, and 
 the cloud-like harmonies in the strings sink lower and lower — like 
 mist veiling the landscape — an impressive pause ushers in the 
 Allegro." 
 
 ' See also a similar eulogy by Wcingartner in his The Symphony since Beethoven. 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 247 
 
 After the flute has repeated this theme there is an interpolation 
 of an important choral-Uke phrase (referred to above), e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 i3 
 
 -j 1 ! . -f 
 
 ^ 
 
 1~X^" 
 
 p dolce 
 
 ^ 
 
 -e>- 
 
 Sl- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 r^=^ 
 
 for it is later used as the cUmax of the Finale — in fact, of the whole 
 work — and its tone of rehgious fervor, accentuated by the scoring 
 for trombones and bassoons, is a clear indication of the ideal message 
 which Brahms meant to convey. The body of the movement. 
 Allegro non troppo ma con brio, begins with a majestic, sweeping 
 themei of great rhythmic vitality and elasticity announced by the 
 strings, e. g. 
 
 ^ 
 
 thH VJ^^^ 
 
 ili^-J-'j-iJ- 
 
 s • s * 
 
 poeo f 
 
 s- -^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ±=t: 
 
 ^f^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 Xi' d 
 
 *-•— J^# 
 
 -^-^ 
 
 «/: 
 
 ' There is a statement in many books that this is a reminiscence of the theme 
 in the Finale of the Ninth Symphony. How such a legend started it is difficult to 
 say; it must be due to what the late W. F. Apthorp called " purblind criticism." 
 For my part I see a resemblance in only one measure — save that both melodies 
 are in quadruple rhythm — between the theme of Brahms and the following : — 
 
248 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 i 
 
 utifm 
 
 Ei 
 
 It is at once repeated with richer scoring and then some exciting 
 
 transitional passages lead, after a slight phrase taken from the chief 
 
 theme of the prelude, to the second theme, animato, in G major, e. g. 
 
 Animato 
 
 i 
 
 p • 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 e»=^ 
 
 =*K 
 
 ^ 
 
 P dolce 
 
 $ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 U 
 
 ^^^^etc. 
 
 This has some rhythmical expansion and then a quieter part, dolce 
 e piano, beginning measure 71. Some rushing ff passages bring us, 
 j n measure 107. to the brilliant closing theme with its staccato, 
 triplet rhythm. The Exposition ends in E minor, in measm^e 122, 
 after a series of forte, staccato chords. The Recapitulation begins 
 at once after two modulatory chords, and though sufficient stress 
 is laid on the first theme, there is so much development of previous 
 material that it serves for both the customary second and third parts. 
 A good deal of adverse criticism has been expended on this portion 
 of the movement and it is possible that Brahms's remarkable tech- 
 nique in handling his material ran away with him. But the music 
 is always striving toward some goal, and even if it has to plough 
 through desperate seas, there is no weakness or faltering. This part 
 of the work is not beautiful in the popular sense of the term, but no 
 one can fail to be impressed with its character. A cUmax is finally 
 reached, in measure 224, with a fortissimo statement of the chief 
 theme of the prelude, and then, after this has cooled down, diminuendo 
 e calando, the second theme enters in the home key. The rest of the 
 recapitulation corresponds closely with the exposition. The Coda 
 begins, in measure 306, with a shadowy outUne of modulatory chords, 
 as if slumbering forces were slowly awakening; and, becoming more 
 crescendo and stringendo, reveals its full glory at the Piu Allegro. 
 This portion, based on quickened phrases of the first theme, seems 
 charged with superhuman energy, and mounting higher and higher 
 culminates in a majestic proclamation of the choral-like motto of the 
 prelude, e. g. 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 249 
 
 8va 
 
 f^^ ^M 
 
 itjgl 
 
 ^= 
 
 =P- 
 
 T 
 
 T 
 
 ff 
 
 m 
 
 # 
 
 ^^3 
 
 
 r 
 
 trzJ- 
 
 \r3^ 
 
 8va.. 
 
 i 
 
 S^E 
 
 eO: 
 
 etc. 
 
 -z*.- 
 
 ^ 
 
 :^ =t 
 
 
 On hearing this it always seems as if the heavens above us really 
 opened. The rest of the Coda is a scene of jubilation with ever more 
 life and light. The chromatic tones of F-sharp and A-flat try to lift 
 their heads but this time are crushed forever by the triimiphant 
 fundamental chords of C major, e. g. 
 
 8va__ 
 
 -s>- -&- 
 
 fe 
 
 ^ 
 
 #= 
 
 w 
 
 ff 
 
 i 
 
 feej% M^^ 
 
 *■£ 
 
 m 
 
 IE 
 
 (IV) 
 
 (IV) 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 t=^ 
 
 F=^ 
 
 -J5— -- 
 
 H h 
 
 (H) 
 
 (I|) 
 
 (V) 
 
 (V) 
 
 (I) 
 
 The movement, in keeping with its serious message, ends with a pro- 
 longed and brilliant Plagal Cadence in which the double basses and 
 the trombone surge upward with elemental power. 
 
250 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Sonata fob Violin and Pianoforte 
 
 Of Brahms's three Sonatas for violin and pianoforte, respectively, 
 in D minor, A major and G major, that in A major has been selected to 
 give some idea of his chamber music, on account of the spontaneous 
 appeal of its melodies and because its performance is possible for fairly 
 well equipped executants. In many respects the D minor Sonata is 
 the greatest of the three, but it is a work exceedingly difficult of execu- 
 tion and interpretation. The A major Sonata needs few comments, 
 as the music speaks for itself. The work is in three movements, the 
 first in complete sonata-form with the two customary themes, each 
 of distinct lyric charm and hence eminently suited to the singing 
 qualities of the viohn; the second movement a fusion of the two 
 normal middle ones, and the Finale a Rondo, freely treated. The 
 first movement. Allegro amabile, begins with a suave theme, e. g.. 
 
 X^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 1= 
 
 E 
 
 f> 
 
 the first interval of which, a descending leap from the third to the 
 leading tone, always seems to make a distinct appeal.' After the 
 customary transition appears the second theme, announced by the 
 pianoforte in measure 50, e. g.. 
 
 teneramemie- 
 
 ' It is used at the beginning of three other well-known melodies, «. g., the slow 
 movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, in the middle part of Schumann's 
 Awfschvmng and in the first phrase of Wagner's Preislied, 
 
BRAHMS 
 
 261 
 
 showing Brahms's fondness for contrasted rhythms — three notes 
 to a beat in one hand against two in the other. After a repetition 
 by the violin there is a spirited closing theme in measure 75, of great 
 importance later. The Development, one of Brahms's best, mani- 
 fests real organic growth; there is nothing labored or perfunctory. 
 It is based on the first theme and the closing theme of the Exposition, 
 e.g. 
 
 The Reprise beginning ia measure 158, shows the usual treatment. 
 The Coda, from measure 219, is long and, like codas of Beethoven, 
 has features of a second development. The movement ends with 
 brilliant arpeggios in the pianoforte against octaves and double stops 
 ia the violin. In the second movement. Andante tranquiUo, in F 
 major, Brahms fuses^ together the moods usually associated with 
 the slow movement and the scherzo, placing one off against the other; 
 the slow theme appearing three times — at its final appearance with 
 eloquent modulations — and the rapid one twice, with contrast 
 gained the second time through pizzicato effects on the violin. The 
 two themes are as follows: — 
 Violin. Andante tranquillo 
 
 The short, dashing Coda is based on the vivace theme, with sonorous 
 chords on the violin, both pizzicato and arco. 
 
 The Finale, Allegretto grazioso, is a convincing example of how 
 
 ^ This practice he has adopted in several other works and it is also the structural 
 feature in the slow movement of C^sar Franck's D minor Symphony. 
 
252 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 such a rigid form as the Older Rondo can be freshened up and re- 
 vitalized by the hand of a master, for the main theme, e. g. 
 
 tt 
 
 m 
 
 Allegretto grazioso 
 espress. 
 
 i 
 
 S^Uii ' - ?=g^^ 
 
 :fcfe 
 
 -^ -s> -m- 
 
 m 
 
 s 
 
 ifit 
 
 ^m 
 
 w 
 
 -r 
 
 -^¥ 
 
 W 
 
 has such genuine melodic life that we always recur to it with pleasure 
 and yet at each appearance it is so deftly varied that no monotony 
 is felt. The two episodes afford stimulating contrasts and need no 
 comment. The main theme at its third appearance is in the sub- 
 dominant key, with effective rhythmic modifications. The move- 
 ment is a remarkable illustration of idiomatic style for each of the 
 instruments: the violin part, sustained and cantabile; the pianoforte 
 part, broken up and of remarkable color and sonority. The last 
 page of the Coda, almost exclusively in double stops for the violin, 
 brings a rousing close to a masterpiece. 
 
 Ballade in G minor fob Pianofobth 
 
 (See Supplement No. 60) 
 
 Although the most important factor in Brahms 's pianoforte pieces 
 is Brahms himself, a careful examination of his works in this field 
 shows that his style is fashioned from an intelligent, and by no means 
 slavish assimilation of important features in the works of his great 
 predecessors. Thus we find the same melodic warmth as in Schubert, 
 the rhythmic vitality and massive harmony so prominent in Schu- 
 mann and the extended arpeggios and chords, the color and richness, 
 peculiar to Chopin. From among the numerous and beautiful 
 compositions of Brahms for solo pianoforte we have selected the 
 Ballade in G minor because it represents a somewhat unusual and 
 hence seldom recognized side of his genius — the specifically dramatic. 
 When a composer calls his piece a Ballade, as in the case of com- 
 positions so entitled by Chopin and Liszt, we may assume that there 
 is some dramatic or subjective meaning behind the notes; and the 
 hearer is at liberty to give play to his own imagination and to receive 
 the message as something more than music in the ordinary abstract 
 
BRAHMS 253 
 
 or absolute sense. From the inner evidence of this Ballade of Brahms 
 it seems to the writer "^ not too fanciful to consider it a picture of a 
 knight-errant in medieval times setting out on his adventures. 
 Observe the vigorous swing of the opening theme in that five-measure 
 rhythm so dear to Brahms. But in the middle portion, in the ro- 
 mantic key of B major,^ the woman appears — perhaps some maiden 
 imprisoned in a tower — and she sings to the knight a song of such 
 sweetness that he would fain forsake duty, battle, everything! The 
 contrast of opposing wills' is dramatically indicated by an inter- 
 polation, after the maiden's first appeal, of the martial theme of the 
 knight, as if he felt he should be off instead of lingering, enchanted 
 by her song. Notwithstanding a still more impassioned repetition 
 of the song, the Knight is firm, tears himself away and continues on 
 his course; how great the wrench, being clearly indicated by the 
 unusual modulations in measures 72-76. The enchanting song, 
 however, still hngers with him and he dwells with fond regret upon 
 bygone scenes and dreams which were unattainable. In this piece 
 is seen Brahms's aristocratic distinction in the treatment of program 
 music. The subject is portrayed broadly — there are no petty de- 
 tails — and the music itself, to anyone with a sensitive imagination, 
 tells the story clearly. Hence a detailed poetic interpretation is out 
 of place, since only to the suggester would it have meaning. 
 
 So many of Brahms's pianoforte compositions are of great beauty 
 and significance that, although space is lacking for further comment 
 on definite examples, we urge the music-lover to study the following : 
 the second Intermezzo* in B-fiat minor of op. 117, perhaps the most 
 
 ' It is to be understood that this is a purely personal interpretation and if any 
 one wishes to consider the piece merely as absolute music with a strong masculine 
 theme in the minor, a lyric melody in the major for the natural contrast, and a 
 coda referring in a general way to the second theme, there is no way to disprove the 
 contention. That Brahms, however, was not entirely averse to out and out pro- 
 grammistic treatment is seen from his two pieces on specific poetic texts, i. e., the 
 first number in op. 10 on the Scottish Ballade of Edward and the Lullahy in op. 
 IIT on the Scottish Folk-song Sleep Soft, My Child. 
 
 ^ The same key that Wagner uses for the end of Tristan and Isolde and Cdsar 
 Franck for the georgeous Finale of the Prelude, Chorale and Fugue. 
 
 ' The subject is the same as the story of the Sirens in the Odessey or of the 
 Lorelei in German Legend. 
 
 * For further comments on the phraseology see The Rhythm of Modern Music 
 by Abdy Williams, pp. 7S-77. We may add that the pieces called Intermezzi, are 
 generally of a meditative, somber nature; whereas the Capriccios are more 
 sprightly, even whimsical in spirit. 
 
254 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 beautiful single piece Brahms has written — remarkable for its 
 rhythmic texture and for the equalization of both hands, which was 
 one of his chief contributions to pianoforte style; the second Inter- 
 mezzo of op. 119, the middle part of which is significant for the ex- 
 tended arpeggio grouping for the left hand (Brahms following Chopin's 
 lead in this respect); the sixth Intermezzo of op. 118, a superb piece 
 for sonority and color; the third Intermezzo in op. 119, (grazioso 
 e giocoso) and the B minor Capriccio op. 76 — both in Brahms's 
 happiest vein of exuberant vitality; the sixth Intermezzo in op. 116, 
 a beautiful example, in its polyphonic texture, of modernized Schu- 
 mann; and, above all, the mighty Rhapsodies in E-flat major, op. 112 
 No. 4 and the one in G minor op. 79 — this latter, one of Brahms's 
 most dramatic conceptions, and an example, as well, of complete 
 sonata-form used for an independent composition. 
 
 Song — Meine Liebe ist griln vne der Fliederbusch 
 
 (She Supplement No. 61) 
 
 Whatever Brahms is or is not, he is universally recognized as an 
 inspired song-composer and those who do not know his songs are cut 
 off from one of the greatest joys music has to offer. As Huneker 
 so well says, "Although his topmost peaks are tremendously remote, 
 and glitter and gleam in an atmosphere almost too thin for dwellers 
 of the plains, in his songs he was as simple, as manly, as tender as 
 Robert Burns." In Brahms's songs we cannot say which is the most 
 significant factor: the words, the vocal part or the accompaniment; 
 all go together to make up a perfect whole. Brahms had discernment 
 in the selection of texts suited to inspire poetic creation. His melo- 
 dies are always appropriate to the spirit of the words, yet truly lyric 
 and singable, and the accompaniment catches and intensifies every 
 subtle shade of meaning. If any one factor is of special beauty, 
 however, it is the instrumental part; for here Brahms's great genius 
 in pianoforte style came to the fore and in utilizing every resource of 
 the instrument to glorify the spirit of the text, he is a worthy successor 
 of Schubert, Schumann and Franz. Note how in this song the 
 passionate glow of the poem is reflected in the gorgeous modulations 
 and sonority of the pianoforte part. Especially remarkable is the 
 interlude between the stanzas, with its wealth of dissonances and 
 waves of flashing color. After this surely no one can say that Brahms 
 had no feeling for sensuous effect, at any rate on the pianoforte. 
 Other famous songs of Brahms which should be familiar to the stu- 
 
CESAR FRANCK 255 
 
 dent are tlie following: Wie Melodien zieht es mir, Feldeinsanikeit, 
 Minnelied, Von evriger Liebe, Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer, 
 Sapphische Ode, Vergebliches St'dndchen. An excellent essay on 
 Brahms as a song composer will be found in the preface to the Forty 
 Songs of Brahms in the Musician's Library (The Oliver Ditson Com- 
 pany). 
 
 The foregoing illustrations have made clear, we trust, the inspira- 
 tion and power of Brahms's varied message. His music, therefore, 
 must be approached reverently, sympathetically and with an earnest 
 desire for a better understanding, for Brahms is veritably a giant. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 CESAR FRANCK 
 
 "DEFORE an appreciation of the significant works and influence of 
 -'-' Cesar Franck can be gained, it is necessary to have a broad his- 
 torical perspective of what had been the trend and the hmitations of 
 French music prior to his career. Since the time of Couperin and 
 Rameau, musical composition in France had been devoted almost ex- 
 clusively to opera — ^with its two types of grand opera and opera-com- 
 ique — and in this field there had been some French musicians of 
 real, though possibly rather slight, genius: Philidor, Mehid, Gretry, 
 Boieldieu, Herold and Auber. One searches in vain through French 
 literature for great symphonies, string-quartets, violin sonatas or 
 pianoforte compositions of significance. Berlioz, as we have seen, 
 had composed a number of orchestral works; but, from the standpoint 
 of absolute music, even these rather beg the question as they are so 
 extremely programmistic, dramatic or even theatric. This one-sided 
 development of French music was chiefly caused by the people's in- 
 nate fondness for the drama, and by the national genius for acting, 
 mimicry and dancing. 
 
 Prior to the advent of Franck there were two important pioneers 
 in the broadening tendency which finally became noticeable, Saint- 
 Saens and Lalo. For great assimilative power, for versatihty, for 
 clarity of expression and a finish and finesse peculiarly French, 
 Camille Saint-Saens (1835-still living) is certainly one of the most 
 
256 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 remarkable musicians of the nineteenth century. His works are 
 numerous, always "well-made" and, though lacking in emotional 
 depth, by no means without charm and grace. They comprise 
 ensemble works: trios, etc., several concertos and symphonies and 
 four symphonic poems. Of these, the third concerto for pianoforte, 
 with its Bach-like introduction, the third violin concerto, the two 
 symphonic poems, Le Rouet d'Omphale and Phaeton and, in particular, 
 the third symphony in C minor, still hold their own. Whatever Saint- 
 Saens has to say is well said; and if the French have modified their 
 previous opinion that the only vehicle for musical expression was the 
 opera, it is largely through the influence of his compositions. This 
 C minor symphony, first performed in London in 1886, shares with 
 Lalo's symphony in G minor (1887) the claim to be, in all French 
 literature, the first instrumental work of large scope free from pro- 
 grammistic tendencies. Saint-Saens' and Lalo fairly popularized 
 the Sonata form and their works are worthy of great respect; since, 
 through them, the public became accustomed to symphonic style 
 and was prepared for the subsequent greater works of Franck, d'lndy 
 and Chausson. Although not so versatile as Saint-Saens nor so 
 varied in output, Eduard Lalo (1823-1892) should decidedly not be 
 overlooked. He was of Spanish origin and this racial strain is no- 
 ticeable in the vivacity of his rhythm, in the piquant individuality 
 of his melodies and in his brilhant and picturesque orchestration. 
 His characteristic work is represented by a series of Concertos and 
 Rhapsodies in which he employs Spanish, Russian and Norwegian 
 themes. He did not escape the French predilection for operatic 
 fame and his best work is probably the well-known opera Le Roi d'Ys, 
 from which the dramatic overture is often played separately. His 
 G minor symphony, however, will always be considered an important 
 land-mark in the development of French instrumental music.'' 
 Cesar Franck (1822-1890) was a composer of such innate spiritual- 
 ity that to analyze and classify him in a formal manner seems well- 
 nigh irreverent. His music once heard is never forgotten, and when 
 
 ' For further comments on the style and Influence of Saint-Saens see the essay 
 in Mason's Prom Grieg to Brahms; the article by Professor E. B. Hill in the third 
 volume of the Art of Music; and, for some pungent and witty remarks, the 
 Program Book of the Boston Symphony Orchestra (edited by Philip Hale) for 
 Nov. 22, 1918. 
 
 ^ For a comprehensive and discriminating account of his style see the Boston 
 Symphony Orchestra Program Book, for January 17, 1919. 
 
CaESAR FRANCK 257 
 
 thoroughly known is loved for all time. Nor is an elaborate bio- 
 graphical account necessary; for Franck, more than any other modern 
 composer, has been fortunate in that his life and works have been 
 sympathetically presented to the world by a distingiiished contempo- 
 rary, his most famous pupil d'Indy — himself a gifted composer and 
 a man of rare literary powers. His biography of Cesar Franck (in 
 French and in English) should certainly be read by all who would 
 keep abreast of modern tendencies. Franck's message, however, 
 is so remarkable and his style so individual, that a few definite com- 
 ments may be made concerning the structural features of his work 
 and the essential attributes, thereby expressed, of his inspiring per- 
 sonality. Franck was a Belgian born at Liege — one of that long 
 line of musicians who, though born elsewhere, have become thoroughly 
 identified with French thought and standards; and there is much 
 in his music which finds a parallel in the literary qualities of another 
 Belgian artist, Maeterlinck, for in both is that same haunting indefin- 
 iteness, that same symbolic aspiration. Nothing in Franck is rigid, 
 square-toed; his music is suggestive of a mystic idealism, the full 
 expression of which, from its very nature is unattainable. Franck's 
 outward life was simple, without excitement or diversion of any kind. 
 When he was not giving lessons or composing, he was active in the 
 service of the Roman Catholic Church, in which he was a devout 
 behever. For a number of years he was organist at Sainte Clotilde, 
 and his style thereby was influenced strongly. A distinct note of 
 religious exaltation runs through much of his music; for Franck was 
 a fine character, of spotless purity of life and of such generosity and 
 elevation of soul that his pupils looked upon him as a real father and 
 always called him "Pater Seraphicus." He was universally acknow- 
 ledged to be the greatest improviser on the organ since Bach himself. 
 Even Liszt, who heard him in 1866, left the church, lost in amazement; 
 evoking the name of the great Sebastian as the only possible com- 
 parison. 
 
 Franck's services to the development of music are twofold: 1st, 
 as an inspired composer of varied works, which are more and more be- 
 coming understood and loved; 2d, as a truly great teacher, among his 
 notable pupils being d'Indy, Chausson, Duparc, Ropartz, and the 
 gifted but short-lived Lekeu. In Franck's music, fully as remarkable 
 as the content — the worthy expression of his poetic nature — is its 
 organic structure. He was the first composer of the French School 
 to use adequately the great forms of symphonic and chamber music 
 
268 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 which had been worked out hitherto by the Germans: Bach, Haydn, 
 Mozart, Beethoven, etc. If during the last thirty years, composers 
 of the modern French School have put forth a number of instrumental 
 works of large dimensions (chamber music, symphonies, symphomc 
 poems and pianoforte sonatas), it is to Franck more than to any other 
 man, by reason of his own achievements in these fields and his stim- 
 ulating influence on others, that this significant fact is due. A 
 striking feature of Franck's music is the individual harmonic scheme, 
 fascinating because so elusive. He was a daring innovator in modu- 
 lations and in chromatic effect; and has, perhaps, added more gen- 
 uinely new words to our vocabulary than any one since Wagner. 
 The basis of Franck's harmony is the novel use of the so-called aug- 
 mented harmonies which, in their derivation, are chromatically altered 
 chords. These are resolved by Franck in a manner remarkably free, 
 and are often submitted to still further chromatic change. In re- 
 veaUng new possibihties he has, in fact, done for these chords what 
 Wagner did for the chord of the ninth. Any page of Franck's music 
 will exemplify this statement, and as an illustration we have cited, 
 in the Supplement, the first part of the Prelude in E major. A life- 
 long student of Bach and Beethoven, Franck beUeved — as a cardinal 
 principle — that great ideap were not enough; they must be welded 
 together with inexorable logic. And so his chief glory as a musical 
 architect is the free use he makes of such organic forms as the Canon, 
 the Fugue and the Varied Air. Franck was likewise a pioneer in 
 establishing in a sonata or symphony a new conception as to the 
 relationship of the movements. This he effected by the use of what 
 may be called "generative motives" which, announced in the first 
 movement of a work, are found with organic growth, modulatory 
 and rhythmic, in all the succeeding portions. Such a method of 
 gaining unity had been hinted at by Beethoven in his Fifth Symphony, 
 was further developed by Schumann and Liszt and, since the example 
 of Franck, has become a recognized principle in all large cyclic works. 
 The following estimate of his music by F. Baldensperger is worthy 
 of citation. "The contemplative character of Franck's music which 
 explains his entire technique is rare at the epoch in which his life was 
 cast, an epoch of realism, generally inspired by a taste for the pictur- 
 esque and the dramatic. Posterity will place Cesar Franck in a niche 
 similar to that of Puvis de Chavannes, whose inspiration, indifferent 
 to all worldly soUcitations, flowed willingly, like that of Franck, into 
 the paths of reverie, and pursued its way like a beautiful river of quiet 
 
CESAK FRANCE 
 
 259 
 
 waters, undisturbed by waves or rapids, and reflecting the eternal 
 calm of the sky." 
 
 As representative works' we have chosen, for analytical comments 
 the D minor Symphony (Franck's only work in this field), the Sonata 
 for violin and pianoforte and the Symphonic Variations for piano- 
 forte and orchestra. Franck has also composed a very beautiful Quin- 
 tet for strings and pianoforte — considered by some the most sublime 
 chamber work of recent times; a String Quartet, notable for its 
 interrelationship of themes and movements; two elaborate com- 
 positions for pianoforte solo, the Prelude, Chorale and Fugue (the 
 fugue showing a masterly combination of strict fugal style and free 
 form) and the Prelude, Aria and Finale; a wealth of organ works — 
 the three Chorales being of special beauty — and several Symphonic 
 Poems of lesser importajice. His purely vocal works, oratorios and 
 church music lie outside the province of this book. 
 
 The Symphony^ in D minor is in three movements; the first in 
 complete and elaborate sonata-form, the second a fusion of the two 
 customary middle movements, and the Finale (though fundamentally 
 on a sonata-form basis) an organic summing-up of the chief themes of 
 the entire work. The first movement begins, Lento, with the main 
 theme proper (thesis) the motive' of which is the foundation of the 
 whole work, e. g. 
 
 Violas, 'Cellos and Do uble BA asES 
 
 m^ 
 
 m 
 
 f) 
 
 ite 
 
 r^ 
 
 ±=t 
 
 The phraseology of the theme is noticeable for its flexibility; since 
 the first phrase is expanded to five measures and the second phrase 
 (antithesis), with a descending motive, to seven, e. g. 
 
 • On account of the length of these works it is impossible to include any of 
 them in the Supplement. 
 
 ' Study, if possible, the orchestral score. For class-room work there is an ex- 
 cellent four-hand arrangement by the composer, and one for two hands by Ernest 
 Alder. 
 
 ' This terse phrase is identical with motives from several other works, e. g., the 
 beginning of Liszt's Les PrMudes, the motive "Muss es sein? " in Beethoven's 
 quartet, opus 135, and the Fate motive in Wagner's Valkyrie. 
 
260 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Wood-wind 
 
 ^^^SE 
 
 iSe 
 
 ^- y 
 
 ^ 
 
 A) 
 
 P 
 
 =^ 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 =t=^: 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 F ■ — 
 
 — f— r— c^ 
 
 fi" 
 
 
 Strings 
 
 -j:l 
 
 a^ 
 
 =-.-N- 
 
 ■■mim&^ 
 
 & 
 
 fit' 
 
 e- 
 
 
 -ZSH 
 
 p espress 
 
 1 ' -J 
 
 
 1=i= 
 
 -<S'-7 
 
 •_> 
 
 t^ U^ 
 
 F 
 
 i 
 
 rzi— 
 
 i?i 
 
 W 
 
 f^ ^^«^:? 
 
 --^ 
 
 -zr 
 
 \f ■p". 
 
 =r=s 
 
 M2 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■3^? 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 ^ — F ^"=^ rr 
 
 woZto cresc. 
 
 9^ 
 
 z^ -<^ I^ W 
 
 The harmony of this second phrase illustrates a striking feature in 
 Franek's style, namely the fact that his resolutions seldom come out 
 as expected but, instead, drift imperceptibly into other channels. 
 In measure 13 there begins a long series of modulatory developments 
 of the main them.e — of a preludial nature — but not a mere prelude 
 in the ordinary sense. That this entire opening portion is the main 
 
CESAR FRANCE 
 
 261 
 
 body of the work is seen by a comparison with what takes place at the 
 beginning of the recapitulation. In measure 29, allegro non troppo, 
 we begin with a presentation of the motive in the usual first-move- 
 ment mood. The answering phrase, antithesis, is now quite different; 
 and, in measure 48, is developed — with some new contrapuntal 
 voices — to a half cadence in F minor. This whole portion, both the 
 Lento and the Allegro, is now repeated almost literally (the one slight 
 change being in measures 56-57) in this new key, a minor third higher 
 than the original. To begin a first movement in this way, i. e., with 
 such a strong contrast of moods is very novel and striking, but as 
 Franck was a devoted student of Beethoven, it would seem that, by 
 presenting his theme in different strata, he was simply expanding 
 the practise^ of that master in order to impress his message upon the 
 Ustener's memory. The repetition of the Allegro part now leads 
 through some rich modulations to the entrance of the second theme, 
 in measure 99. This lovely melody, characteristic of Franck's 
 tenderness. 
 
 Strings 
 
 i 
 
 -4=^ 
 
 le 
 
 ¥^ 
 
 dolce e molto cantabile 
 
 i^E 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 N.B.I 
 
 i 
 
 ^T# 
 
 m 
 
 g=3t: 
 
 -J^^-J li 
 
 w 
 
 -^. 
 
 f k r ^ 
 
 fe- 
 
 ^U I ^i^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 P\ J L-^ 
 
 -ZSH 
 
 is noteworthy for the imitations between the vioHns and the 'cellos 
 and basses. It shows, furthermore, that peculiar quaUty in Franck's 
 style which comes from his elusive modulations. In measures 109-110 
 we are at a loss to tell just what direction the music will take when 
 almost miraculously, in measure 111, we find ourselves in D-flat major 
 
 ' See for example the opening measures of the Waldstein and of the Appax^ 
 sionata Sonata. 
 
262 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 — in which key the whole theme is now repeated. Some stimulating 
 modulations bring us, in measure 129, to a most energetic and aspiring 
 melody, considered by some another part of the second theme, but 
 which certainly has the note of a closing theme and also the structural 
 position of a closing theme, e. g. 
 
 f-g— ^ 
 
 It is developed with great brilliancy through a series of mediant 
 modulations, in which the originaUty of Franck's harmonic scheme 
 is very apparent. The exposition ends with some dreamy, pianissimo 
 reminiscences of the closing theme in the mediant keys of F, D and 
 B major, delicately scored for the wood-wind instruments and horns. 
 The development begins, in measure 191, with the motive of the 
 closing theme which, combined with other phrases from the exposi- 
 tion, is used persistently in the bass for a number of measures. The 
 material is developed climactically until, in measure 229, we find an 
 impressive treatment of the second descending phrase of the first 
 theme — originally in augmentation and later in diminution, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 !BE 
 
 -J^-M- 
 
 ±i 
 
 :^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 and 
 
 i 
 
 IBE 
 
 ±w-- 
 
 5E 
 
 etc. 
 
 w 
 
 ff 
 
 The rest of the development is clearly derivable from material already 
 presented. After a final ff cUmax there begins, in measure 287, a 
 series of beautiful entries j>p of the closing theme for the clarinet, 
 oboe and flute. This is the spot in a sonata-form movement where 
 appears the hand of the master; for the excitement of the free fan- 
 tasy must cool down without entirely dying out, and there must also 
 be a fresh crescendo of energy for the restatement of themes in the 
 
CESAR FRANCK 
 
 263 
 
 part following. Franck handles the situation with convincing skill; 
 and some climactic measures, in which the main theme hints at the re- 
 turn, lead us, in measure 333, to the recapitulation. This is one 
 of the most powerful and eloquent parts of the movement, for the 
 whole first theme is presented canonically — the announcement in 
 the trombones, tuba and basses being answered, a half measure later, 
 by trumpets and cornets. The rest of the recapitulation, with nec- 
 essary modulations and slight expansion, corresponds closely to 
 the first portion. The coda, beginning after the same echo-efiFects 
 heard at the close of the exposition, is founded on one of the coun- 
 terpoints of the first subject, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 =p 
 
 1= 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Gathering headway it leads to an imposing assertion JJJ, in canon form, 
 of the main motto which concludes, with a widely spaced chord, in 
 the brilliant' orchestral key of D major. 
 
 The second movement begins with a series of subdued, pizzicato 
 chords (for strings and harp) which establish the mood and later 
 furnish the harmonic background for the main theme. This haunting 
 melody, announced — in measure 16 — by the English horn and after- 
 wards strengthened by the clarinet and flute, is clearly derived from 
 the motto of the first movement, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 Molto 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 ^- 
 
 4= 
 
 m 
 
 t=s= 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^=£ 
 
 w 
 
 t' 
 
 p 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 ^^ 
 
 t^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 
 
 ^i 
 
 gii^> Jjjj l Ub =^i=t^k 
 
 and is a notable example of the free phraseology and long sweep pe- 
 culiar to Franck. Although extending 32 measures it never loses its 
 
 ' Brilliant by reason of the fact that the four principal tones in D major, D, A, 
 G, £ are open strings on the Tiolin. 
 
264 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 continuity, for every measure grows inevitably from what has pre- 
 ceded. • It begins with two identical eight- measure phrases; the 
 second of which, with a different harmonic ending, is varied by a 
 cantabile counter theme in the violas — causing thereby, with the 
 upper voice, some delightful dissonant effects. The last eight-meas- 
 ure phrase, also varied by a counterpoint in the 'cellos, ends with 
 a characteristic, Franckian modulation; keeping us in suspense imtil 
 the last moment, and then debouching unexpectedly into B-flat major. 
 In this key there follows a long-breathed, cantabile melody — at 
 first for strings alone, but scored with increasing richness. It 
 abounds in modulatory changes and expresses, throughout, the note of 
 mystical exaltation so prominent in Franck's nature. It ends in 
 measures 81-86 with an eloquent cadence, largamente and pianissimo, 
 in B-flat major and is followed by a partial restatement of the first 
 theme; thus giving, to this portion of the movement, a feeling of 
 three-part form. Then, after some preliminary phrases, begins the 
 piquant theme in G minor, in triplet rhythm, which takes the place 
 of the conventional Scherzo, e. g.. 
 
 for, as we have stated, the structural feature of this movement is 
 the fusion of the two customary middle movements. This theme, 
 mostly jyp (con sordini and vibrato) — daintily scored for strings and 
 light wood-wind chords — closes, in measures 131-134, with a cadence 
 in G minor. The following portion, beginning in E-flat major, but 
 often modulating — its graceful theme sung by the clarinets, dolce 
 espressivo, answered by flutes and oboes — e. g.. 
 
 t 
 
 ± 
 
 S& 
 
 w 
 
 T^-f- 
 
 ^^=^=i- 
 
 m 
 
 etc. 
 
 PP 
 
 evidently takes the place of a trio and is one of the most poetic parts 
 of the movement. After some effective development there is a re- 
 turn, in measure 175, to the G minor scherzo-theme in the strings; 
 soon joined, in measure 183, by the slow theme on the English horn 
 — the structural union of the two moods being thus established, e. g. 
 
CfiSAR FRANCK 
 
 265 
 
 Eng. Horn 
 
 -TT^r^ 
 
 The rest of the movement is a free but perfectly organic improvisation 
 on the chief melodies already presented. It is richly scored, with 
 dialogue ^ects between the several orchestral choirs; especially 
 beautiful are the two passages in B major, poco piu lento, scored pp 
 for the complete wood-wind group and horns. The closing measiu-es 
 have lovely echoes between wood-wind and strings, and the final ca- 
 dence is one of the most magical in aU Franck; holding us o£E to the 
 very last from oxu- goal and finally reaching it in a chord of imforget- 
 able peace and satisfaction, e. g. 
 
 Molto sostenuto e rail. 
 
 m 
 
 nt 
 
 fe5^ -^^^ -f2- 
 
 Pi 
 
 nA 
 
 « 
 
 nif moUo cresc. 
 
 
 cresc. 
 
 1 -^ b 4 
 
 ^a 
 
 i 
 
 b-m- 
 
 PP 
 
 -W- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 s 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ff 
 
 s 
 
 4 
 
 -«— ^ 
 
 I 
 
 ■^ 
 
266 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The Finale in D major, allegro non troppo, is a remarkable 
 example in modern literature of that tendency, growing since Bee- 
 thoven, not to treat the last movement as an unrelated indepen- 
 dent portion but, instead, as an organic summing up of all the lead- 
 ing themes. This cyclic use of themes — transferring them from 
 one movement to another — is one of Franck's important con- 
 tributions to musical architecture. The movement has two themes 
 of its own, e. g. 
 1st theme 
 
 :t 
 
 m^ 
 
 t=tt 
 
 dolce cantabile 
 
 t. 
 
 :#=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 -zj*- 
 
 41 
 
 2d theme 
 
 s 
 
 ^ 
 
 =n=^ 
 
 m 
 
 - z^ fj—t ' •—7=1- I e ) . f]- 
 
 •,e cantabile ' \ \ ' 
 
 dolce 
 
 t-J-^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^^m 
 
 U^r—Tf 
 
 rr 
 
 u 
 
 and at first proceeds along regular sonata^form lines, i. e., with an ex- 
 position, development and recapitulation. After vigorous summons 
 to attention the first theme is given out by the 'cellos and bassoons. 
 It is expanded at some length, repeated ff by the full orchestra, and 
 then after bold modulations leads, in measure 72, to the second theme 
 in B major, happily called by Ropartz the "theme of triumph."' 
 After a quieter portion of sombre tone in B minor we reach, in measure 
 124, an interpolation of the slow movement theme, e. g.. 
 
 $ 
 
 is? 
 
 'W- 
 
 ffl^ 
 
 PP espr. 
 
 =#? 
 
 ■ etc. 
 
 ^ The scoring of this theme for trumpets, comets and trombones has been 
 severely criticized and it is true that the cornet is an instrument to be employed 
 and played with discretion. The writer, however, has heard performances of this 
 work in which the cornets seemed to give just that ringing note evidently desired 
 by Franck. 
 
CfeSAR FRANCE 
 
 267 
 
 sung by the EngKsh horn against a triplet accompaniment in the 
 strings; the fundamental beat — the time now changed from i to* 
 — preseirving tiie same value. Now we begin to foresee that this 
 theme is to be the climax of the whole work. In measure 140 the 
 development proper is resumed; based, at first, on some modidatory 
 and imitative treatment of the first theme and followed by two fj 
 sostenuto announcements of the jubilant second theme. After these 
 have subsided there are a number of measures (piu lento) of a shadowy 
 outline, developed from preceding melodic phrases. The pace 
 gradually quickens, the volume of sound increases and we are brought, 
 through a series of pungent dissonances and stimulating syncopations, 
 to a brilliant assertion of the first theme in D major. This again 
 waxes more and more eloquent until it bursts into a truly apocalyptic 
 proclamation of the slow movement theme for full orchestra which, 
 closing in D major, is the real chmax of the movement and indeed of 
 the work. Franck, however, still wishes to impress upon us some 
 of his other thoughts — they are really too lovely not to be heard 
 once more — • and so, after an intermediary passage consisting en- 
 tirely of successive ninth chords,^ there is a reminiscence of the whole 
 closing theme of the first movement now for low strings alone — the 
 vioUns playing on the G string — later for the wood-wind and finally 
 echoed by the high strings ppp. As this fades away we reach one of 
 the most inspired passages of the whole work — in its mood of mys- 
 terious suggestion truly indescribable. Over a slow elemental kind 
 of hcisso ostinato there appear first the dramatic motto and then other 
 portions of preceding themes, as if struggling to come to the Hght. 
 A long exciting crescendo leads to a complete statement of the main 
 theme of the Finale, with a canonic treatment of which the work ends. 
 
 e.g. 
 
 m 
 
 fff. 1 1 r't ^ 
 
 =&=t 
 
 - f f f f , ^ ^ 
 
 =^ 
 
 m 
 
 ff 
 
 ^ The harmony of this passage is most characteristic of Franck and should be 
 carefully studied. 
 
268 
 
 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 :t' 
 
 O 
 
 
 $= 
 
 :^ 
 
 -•- -^- 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ 
 
 't- 
 
 That both the first and last movements end with canons is indeed 
 noteworthy; Frajick thus clearly showing his belief that in no other 
 way than by polyphonic imitation could such intensity of utterance 
 be gained. 
 
 Sonata fob Violin and Pianoforte in A Major 
 
 This Sonata ranks with those of Brahms as being among the great 
 works in its class. Some of its lovers, in fact, would risk an un- 
 qualified superlative and call it the greatest. It certainly is re- 
 markable for its inspired themeg, its bold harmonies, its free and yet 
 organic structure and for that sublime fervor which was the basis of 
 Franck's genius. It is, in two respects, at least, a highly original 
 work: in the unusual moods of the several movements, and in the 
 relationship between the two instruments. For although it is a 
 viohn sonata, the emphasis in many respects is laid on the piano- 
 forte part which requires great virtuoso power of performance, — 
 the violin, at times, having the nature more of an obligate. There 
 are four movements, the first in abridged sonata form, i. e., there is no 
 development; the second in complete and elaborate sonata form; the 
 third, a kind of free rhapsody, supplying an intermezzo between the 
 third and fourth movements and organically connected with the 
 Finale. This, in free rondo-form, with a main theme of its own 
 treated canonically, sums up the chief themes which have preceded. 
 The work exemplifies Franck's practise of generative themes; for 
 d'Indy claims' that the whole structure is based on three motives, e.y., 
 
 M 
 
 ^-^^ 
 
 M 
 
 W- 
 
 ^ 
 
 g^ 
 
 i 
 
 the rising and falling inflexion of which he typifies by what is called 
 a "torculus" (.•.)! Whether such minute analysis is necessary 
 for the listener may be open to question; but it is true that in hearing 
 '■ See his Course in Cotnposi^on, book II, pp. 423-426. 
 
CESAR FRANCK 
 
 269 
 
 the work one is struck by the homogeneity of the material. The 
 first movement is an impassioned kind of revery — in a mood more 
 often associated with the slow movement, in character somewhat 
 like the beginning of Beethoven's C-sharp minor Sonata. After 
 some preludial ninth chords the dreamy first theme is given out, 
 molto dolce, by the violin, supported by rich harmonies on the piano- 
 forte, the use of the augmented chords being prominent, e. g. 
 Allegretto ben moderaio 
 
 i 
 
 y 
 
 Violin 
 
 PPJ: 
 
 :t 
 
 ^^ 
 
 £ 
 
 i^ 
 
 M 
 
 moUo dolce 
 
 ww^ 
 
 t=t= 
 
 s T^iri J 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 -^ 
 
 -e^. 
 
 s^- 
 
 Piano 
 
 -s^. 
 
 3.^^ 
 
 Some natural expansion and development lead, in measure 31, to the 
 broad and vigorous second theme, sempre forte e largamente, announ- 
 ced by the pianoforte, e. g. 
 
270 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LAJiTGUAGE 
 
 This ends in. F-sharp minor and is at once followed by a closing por- 
 tion, i. e., a repetition of the second theme with an elaborate arpeggio 
 accompaniment and some fragmentary phrases of the first theme 
 on the violin. Its last measures'- are striking for the bold use of aug- 
 mented chords and for the wide spacing which gives an organ-like 
 sonority. The recapitulation, beginning in measure 63 with still 
 richer harmonization, is almost identical with the exposition; the 
 second theme appearing logically in the home key. The closing 
 measures of the coda, which starts in measure 97, illustrate Franck's 
 genius in the chromatic alteration of chords. 
 
 The second movement, in a structural sense the most normal of. 
 the four, speaks for itself. It is stormy and dramatic, with a number 
 of passages marked passionato and molto fuoco, and presents a 
 rather unusual side of Franck's quiet nature. The two themes are 
 strong and well contrasted: the first for the pianoforte, the second 
 for the violin, e. g. 
 
 Ist theme 
 Allegro, passionato 
 
 I 
 
 ib: 
 
 W 
 
 ^ 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 mf 
 
 ^ t 
 
 B. 
 
 iSe 
 
 i 
 
 jSH fU-H=^ ^;^ 
 
 f 
 
 W 
 
 ^^ 
 
 2d. theme 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 WFf^ 
 
 ^t 
 
 -*—* 
 
 P^ 
 
 i=t 
 
 i 
 
 =p^ffF 
 
 tf±£^j£ 
 
 'y- \f- f - 
 
 zfcSf 
 
 i"=^F 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^E^=^ 
 
 e- 
 
 etc. 
 
 ' Note the correspondence between these measures in the first part and the 
 measures just before the end in the second part. 
 
CESAR FRAJSrCK 
 
 271 
 
 The development begins at the quasi lento, measure 80, with the 
 second (6) of the generative motives which is to play an important 
 role in the Fantasia and the Finale. It is rather broken up into 
 sections, but holds the interest through its unflagging rhythmic vigor 
 and daring dissonances. Franck's contrapuntal skUl is shown here 
 in the closing measures (130-134) where a phrase from the second 
 theme on the violin, dolcissimo espressivo, is united with a phrase 
 of the first theme on the pianoforte, hinting at the return. The 
 recapitulation, beginning in measure 138, is perfectly normal and 
 leads to a coda which, becoming more and more animated, ends with 
 brilliant bravura eilects for each instrument. 
 
 The third movement, entitled Recitative-Fantasia, is notable 
 for its long declamations for the violin alone, and for its introduction 
 of a theme from the preceding movement and of one to be repeated 
 in the Finale. Thus the organic relationship between the various 
 movements is shown and is still further emphasized in the Finale. 
 The mood is often very impassioned (once fff) and dramatic, with 
 several passages specifically marked. This music alone, which sounds 
 like nothing before or since, would stamp Franck as an absolutely 
 original genius. In measure 53 appears a long pianissimo medi- 
 tation by the violin on a phrase — the second generative motive (&) 
 — from the preceding movement, supported by beautifully spaced 
 arpeggio chords on the pianoforte, e. g. 
 
 a tempo moderato 
 
 etc. 
 
 hS^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 -^r-V- 
 
 ni=^M=M 
 
 .1*^ 
 
 :t:2= 
 
 In measure 71 occurs the first appearance of the bold theme which is 
 to be twice used for episodes in the Finale, e. g. 
 
272 
 
 MUSIC: AJSr ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 m 
 
 tt 
 
 mf drammatico 
 
 H^ 
 
 m 
 
 ^^^fhc 
 
 *i - 1 — I- 
 
 F=)=t=i=^^=f=H 
 
 mf largamente „ 
 
 if 
 
 9* 
 
 ^ 
 
 r= 
 
 :* 
 
 3t 
 
 3 
 
 i 
 
 p^ 
 
 #^ 
 
 s^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 m 
 
 ^- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 =nip=r=t 
 
 t^ 
 
 TOoZto cresc. 
 
 * 
 
 
 The closing cadence' of the movement, one of the most original and 
 truly beautiful in all literature as it seems to the writer, furnishes a 
 marvellous contrast to the stormy measures immediately preceding. 
 The Finale is perhaps the most spontaneous canon in existence, 
 an imitative dialogue between the two instruments; this form (which 
 is often rigid and mechanical) being used so easily that it seems as if 
 each instrument were naturally commenting upon the message of the 
 other. Observe also the sonorous background provided for the vio- 
 lin melody by the widely spaced chords on the pianoforte, e. g. 
 
 * Already cited on page 57, Chapter IV. 
 
CESAR FRANCK 
 
 273 
 
 « 
 
 Allegretto poco mosso 
 
 |H_$^ 
 
 =t£ 
 
 w 
 
 u 
 
 dolce cantabile 
 
 S^^ 
 
 m 
 
 p^ 
 
 f 
 
 
 :f: 
 
 =^ 
 
 J — Cl 
 
 p 
 
 -SH 
 
 i 
 
 «: 
 
 -•— ^ 
 
 ES 
 
 -^L- • 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ 
 
 -f^ 
 
 
 4i= 
 
 S 
 
 ^^Et^ 
 
 r 
 
 ^ 
 
 r 'r tj^ 
 
 S^ 
 
 f 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 
 The first episode, beginning in F-sharp minor at measure 38, is based 
 on the third generative phrase (c) brought over from the Fantasia and 
 embroidered by running passages (delicato) on the violin. This 
 leads to a return of the canonic first theme which, with an interchange 
 of statement and answer and with free modulations, is developed 
 to a briUiant climax — the canon still persisting — in the dominant 
 key of E major. Some transitional modulations, in which the ex- 
 citement cools down, bring us to the second episode, in B-flat minor. 
 This at first develops the phrase (b) from the middle part of the 
 second movement, e. g. 
 
 N.B. 
 
274 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 and lateT, also in the bass, a phrase from the mam theme, e. g. 
 
 ^^m 
 
 m 
 
 ^w 
 
 ^^^^«. 
 
 t^ ' i^iuu'i 
 
 It is soon followed by a bold entrance of the dramatic theme from 
 the Fantasia which, twice presented — the second time grandioso — 
 leads to a thrilling cadence in C major. The third and last refrain 
 is a complete restatement of the original canon and closes in A major 
 with a still more briQiant imitative treatment of the passage formerly 
 in the dominant. The last measures — with the high trill on the 
 vioUn and cutting dissonances on the pianoforte — are far too ex- 
 citing for mere verbal description. 
 
 Symphonic Vabiations fob Pianoforte and Obchestba 
 This is one of Franck's most significant works, containing all his 
 individual characteristics: melodic intensity, novel chromatic har- 
 mony and freedom of form combined with coherence. Franck always 
 claimed that the variation form, rightly treated, was a perfect medium 
 for free, imaginative expression; surely this work is a manifestation 
 of his beUef. A careful study will justify the statement that his 
 style is founded on that of Bach and Beethoven; for the naturalness 
 of these melodic variations can be compared only with the Pasaacaglia 
 in C minor, and the general structure of the work finds its prototype 
 in the Finale of the Heroic Symphony. It is a set of free variations, 
 or rather organic transformations of two themes; the first sombre, 
 entirely in the minor, the second brighter, with some passing em- 
 phasis on the major. The variations are not numbered and there 
 are no rigid stops; though, of course, when objective points are 
 reached, there is natural punctuation. The two themes, as follows 
 — a striking example of Franck's peculiar harmonic scheme — 
 should be carefully studied, e. g. 
 
 1st theme 
 
 fe^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 -^ — ^ft 
 
 ISbe 
 
 mf espress. 
 
 f 
 
 ^ 
 
C&SAR FRANCE 
 
 276 
 
 
 U: 
 
 « « i 
 
 S 
 
 'm 
 
 :fi: 
 
 It* 
 
 f 
 
 ip: 
 
 =r 
 
 jj 
 
 i i^ 
 
 dim. 
 
 tj 
 
 ms^r^^ ^^^ 
 
 1:^— .i 
 
 
 (2im. « rallent. I 
 
 ^^ 
 
 dim. e rallent. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ;— ^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 !hS- 
 
 2d theme 
 
 
 Ni 
 
 i 
 
 :^ 
 
 J=«= 
 
 S 
 
 r - ^ ,j» 
 
 ?n/ espressivo con simplicita 
 
 • • • ^P^ 
 
 ^ t^4=M=jJ 3 3^E fff P^i^^^f^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 o 
 
 Ss 
 
 ii — • — "i- 
 
 i-^^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 iTL, 
 
 piii f 
 
 n-^ 
 
 ^ -^-^—h :t% 
 
 Jt 
 
 1^=^=^=^ 
 
 feE 
 
 IZ**" 
 
 i^ 
 
 j: 
 
 :£ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^^-J 
 
 -I — \ 
 
 P# 
 
 3<=^ 
 
 dolce 
 
 n 
 
 ■•-.^ -* -f- ^ r 
 
 :-^ 
 
 ■piiif 
 
 
 P 
 
 
276 
 
 MUSIC: AN AKT AOT) A LANGUAGE 
 
 i 
 
 tf 
 
 1= 
 
 & 
 
 It 
 
 :t=^ 
 
 P^ 
 
 :*:3t 
 
 -g— a l- 
 
 T r r 
 
 (Jim. 
 
 r r 
 
 r r- 
 
 tt 
 
 ^J 
 
 •A 
 
 a* 
 
 fca 
 
 f=i^"f=r 
 
 J 
 
 The work opens with a series of restless dotted notes for the strings 
 ^ which diminish and retard to an entrance of the first theme, piii 
 lento, for the pianoforte; the two phrases of which are interrupted 
 by a passage, somewhat modified, from the introduction. Some pre- 
 ludial measures, expanding the material presented, bring us at B^ 
 to a premonitory statement of the second theme fp (in wood-wind 
 and pizzicato strings) over a muffled roll of the kettle drums on C- 
 sharp, e. g. 
 
 m 
 
 X 
 
 ^ 
 
 t 
 
 iS 
 
 --^=^1 
 
 # 
 
 'j^ 
 
 w 
 
 Pf> 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^^^^^ 
 
 Then follows a long rhapsodic presentation of the first theme for 
 pianoforte solo — the melody in octaves and the accompaniment in 
 the widest arpeggios possible. This passage is one of great sonority 
 and reveals clearly the influence of the organ upon Franck's style. 
 Some further measures of general development, containing at E a 
 reminiscence of the first theme, bring us (after an elaborate half- 
 cadence on the dominant of F-sharp minor) to the entrance of the 
 second theme. Now that all the melodic material has been presented, 
 Franck allows it to grow and blossom. In the first variation at F 
 we have phrases of the second theme broken up into a dialogue be- 
 tween strings, wood-wind and pianoforte; and in the second at G 
 the violas and 'cellos sing the whole second theme accompanied by 
 some ingenious figuration on the pianoforte. This is followed at H 
 by a brilliant amplification for the solo instrument, lightly accom- 
 
 ' The indication by letters is the same in the full score as in the version for two 
 pianofortes. 
 
CESAR FRANCK 277 
 
 panied on the orchestra, of phrases already heard and leads at I to a 
 fortissimo orchestral tutti in D major — the next variation — which 
 proclaims a portion of the second theme. This is developed with 
 great power on both instruments and is combined, nine measures 
 after J, with a variant of the first theme. At K there is a bold 
 treatment of the second theme (sostenuto) for oboes and clarinets 
 against rushing octaves on the pianoforte. 
 
 At L we have some further development of the second theme, the 
 melody being in the strings with a background of broken triplet 
 chords on the pianoforte. We now reach at M — molto piii lento — 
 the most poetic variation of the work. All the 'cellos, dolce e sos- 
 tenuto, sing the second theme in the rich key of F-sharp major, the 
 closing phrases answered by the wood-wind; while the pianoforte 
 supports them with coloristic, arabesque-like broken chords contain- 
 ing a melodic pattern of their own. At N the 'cellos continue with 
 phrases from the first theme, the accompaniment being in extended 
 arpeggios against a background of sustained strings (ppp con sordino). 
 A climax is gradually reached which ends, smorzando, with a descend- 
 ing chromatic run on the pianoforte, followed by a long triU on 
 C-sharp which ushers in the closing portion of the work. The struc- 
 ture, as a whole, is divided into three main portions: the first pre- 
 ludial, the second sombre and often meditative — largely in the minor 
 — the third entirely in the major and of extraordinary brilhance and 
 vivacity. At the AUegro non tro'ppo after the trill, we find a variant 
 of the first theme for the 'cellos and basses in F-sharp major, e. g., 
 
 
 accompanied by broken chords on the pianoforte and wood-wind. 
 This is followed at P by a free treatment for pianoforte, con fuoco, 
 of the first theme which develops at Q into a most pianistic pre- 
 sentation (in the upper register of the instrument) of the phrase 
 just announced by the 'cellos. In the fifth measure after B. the 
 basses begin, pizzicato but forte, a modified statement of the second 
 theme, accompanied by a new counter melody on the pianoforte, 
 dolce ma marcato, e. g. 
 
278 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 l>ji 
 
 1^ 
 
 I 
 
 jirrfiBMlJ; 
 
 =P=P: 
 
 i^^^^ 
 
 =^=ft 
 
 =|EJi= 
 
 ^ 
 
 -^— r 
 
 i 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^=:^: 
 
 m 
 
 ■iPi7 
 
 ■^^^f^- 
 
 t^l 
 
 This leads into a brilliant climax for orchestra alone based on the 
 first theme which, at the very end, modulates to E-flat major. Then 
 follows an episodical portion of unusual beauty — a long, dreamy 
 passage, dolce rubato, for solo pianoforte, in which the first theme is 
 merely hinted at in shadowy outlines, e. g. 
 
 i 
 
 un poco rit. 
 
 ^=4: 
 
 J I I 
 
 i. 
 
 A — i- 
 
 i'tii^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 m^. 
 
 -- — =?- 
 
 f?^ 
 
 p 
 
 i±ifc& 
 
 hi2~z 
 
 --dr 
 
 S 
 
 J— + 
 
 it 
 
 1=^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 g±^ 
 
 fc=^= 
 
 Abounding in fascinating modulations and coloristic eflFects it shows 
 Franck's genius equally for real melodic germination with an avoid- 
 ance of all perfunctory manipulation of his material. This leads, 
 foiu: measures after T, to an entrance pp in the wood-wind, of a 
 variant of the first theme. Due to the effect of contrasted accents 
 the passage is most exciting — two rhythms being treated at once. 
 A climax for full orchestra brings us at V to a repetition of the former 
 pianoforte presentation of the first theme, followed as before, at W 
 by the counter-melody against the second theme, forte, in the basses. 
 The first theme, now in complete control, is here proclaimed most 
 eloquently in antiphonal form between the full orchestra and piano- 
 forte, e. g. 
 
CifiSAR FEANCK 
 
 279 
 
 Obchestba, Ttttti 
 
 to^^ 
 
 ^E^^M 
 
 S3ta 
 
 f=M=t 
 
 I 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 PlANOPOKTE 
 
 S«a 
 
 -IS- 
 
 J 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 M 
 
 £te 
 
 Pi #a p ^ s 
 
 y^^ft^ 
 
 i 
 
 
 gaf T^^tffiT^ 
 
 t fa jifIlQ 
 
 « 
 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 
 -ii 
 
 i*=^ 
 
 r^r 
 
 ^ 
 
 5wo., 
 
 r 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Ei=« 
 
 etc. 
 
 * 4 
 
 ff 
 
 UM-- 
 
 *=t 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 
280 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 The work ends with a rapid iteration, molto crescendo, of the first 
 motive — in diminution. Now that we have reviewed the entire 
 composition, there is one feature worthy of special emphasis. The 
 structure as a whole (as we have stated) is clearly divided into three 
 main parts; but when we examine the third part by itself, we find 
 that it follows the lines of the sonata-form. For there is a first 
 portion, with a main theme in F-sharp major, and a second theme — 
 the new melody — in D-major; the passage for pianoforte in E-flat 
 major stands for the development, and the movement concludes 
 with a distinct third portion, both first and second theme being in the 
 home key. Thus the structure represents a carefully planned union 
 of the variation form and the sonata-form which were special favorites 
 of Franck. The work, which, after earnest study, will surely be 
 enjoyed and loved, ranks with the Istar Symphonic Variations by 
 d'lndy and the two sets on themes from Paganini by Brahms as the 
 acme of what the variation form may indeed be when treated by a 
 master. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL — D'INDT AND DEBUSSY 
 
 NOT only as the most distinguished of Cesar Franck's pupils, but 
 by reason of his undoubted musicianship and marked versatility 
 — his works being in well nigh every form — Vincent d'lndy (1851- 
 still living) is rightly considered to be the most representative com- 
 poser of his branch of the modern French school.^ Whether his- 
 tory will accord to him the rank of an inspired genius it is as yet too 
 early to decide; but for the sincerity and nobility of his ideas, for his 
 finished workmanship and the influence he has exerted, through his 
 many-sided personaUty, in elevating public taste and in the education 
 of young musicians, he is worthy of our gratitude. D'lndy is a 
 patriotic Frenchman believing profoundly that French music has an 
 important role to bear; who has incarnated this beUef in a series of 
 
 1 This school may be said to contain two groups : one, the pupils of Cdsar 
 Franck — d'lndy, Chausson, Duparc, Rousseau, Augusta Holmes and Ropartz, 
 the chief feature in whose style is a modernization of classic practice; a second 
 consisting of Debussy, Ravel, Dukas and Florent Schmitt, whose works manifest 
 more extreme individualistic tendencies. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 281 
 
 works of such distinction liiat, if not unqualifiedly loved, they at 
 least compel recognition. If he swings a bit too far in his insistence 
 upon the exclusive glories of French genius, let us remember that the 
 modern Germans^ have been just as one-sided from their point of 
 view — and with even less tangible proof of attainment. For it 
 seems incontestable that, since the era of Wagner and Brahms, the 
 modern French and Russian Schools have contributed to the de- 
 velopment of music more than all the other nations combined. It 
 is for us iu America who, free from national prejudice, can stand off 
 and take an impartial view, to appreciate the good points in aU 
 schools. A detailed account of d'Indy's life and works wiU not be 
 necessary, for the subject has been admirably and comprehensively 
 treated by D. G. Mason iu his set of Essays on Contemporary Com- 
 posers and in. the article by E. B. HUl in the Art of Music, Vol. 3. 
 D'Indy's compositions, as iu the case of Franck, are not numerous, 
 but finely wrought and of distinct and varied individuality. His 
 chief instrumentaP works comprise a Wallenstein Trilogy (three 
 symphonic poems based on Schiller's drama) notable for descriptive 
 power and orchestral effect; a Symphony for orchestra and piano- 
 forte on a mountaia air' — one of his best works, because the folk- 
 song basis furnishes a melodic warmth which elsewhere is sometimes 
 lacking; a set of Symphonic Variations on the Assyrian legend of 
 Istar; a remarkable Sonata for violin and pianoforte; a String-Quar- 
 tet, all the movements of which are based on a motto of four notes, 
 and lastiy the Symphony in B-flat major — considered his master- 
 piece — ^in which the same process of development from generative mo- 
 tives is followed as in Cesar Franck. All these works contain certain 
 sahent characteristics proceeding directly from d'Indy's imagination 
 r and intellect. There is always an ideal and noble purpose, a stoutiy 
 knit musical fabric and melodies — d'Indy's own melodies, sincerely 
 felt and beautifully presented. Whether they have abounding power 
 to move the heart of the Ustener is, indeed, the point at issue. Since 
 d'Indy is on record as saying, "There is in art, truly, nothing but the 
 
 ' The well-known German scholar and editor Max Friedlander, who visited this 
 country in 1910, acknowledged — in a conversation with the writer — that he had 
 never even heard of Chabrier ! 
 
 ' D'Indy's significant contributions to operatic and choral literature, such as 
 Fervaal, L'Aranger, Le Chant de la Cloche and La Ldgende de St. Chriatophij lie 
 without our province. 
 
 * From the Cdvennes region whence d'Indy's family originally came. 
 
282 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 heart that can produce beauty," it is evident that he beheves in the 
 emotional element in music. That there is a difference of opinion 
 however, as to what make's emotional power is shown by his estimate 
 of Brahms (set forth in his Cours de Composition Musicale, pp. 415- 
 416) in the statement that, though Brahms is a fine workman, his 
 music lacks the power to touch the heart (faire vibrer le coeur). 
 There is no doubt that, in any question of Brahms versus d'Indy, 
 such has not been the verdict of outside opinion. D'Indy is admired 
 and respected, whereas Brahms has won the love of those who know 
 him; and the truth in the saying, "Securus judicat orbis terrarum" 
 is surely difficult to contravene. D'Indy's melodies can always be 
 minutely analysed^ and they justify the test; but we submit that the 
 great melodies of the world speak to us in more direct fashion. For 
 there is, in his music, a seriousness which at times becomes somewhat 
 austere. He seems so afraid of writing pretty tunes or ear-tickhng 
 music, that we often miss a sensuous, emotional warmth. He hates 
 the commonplace, cultivating the ideal and reUgion of beauty. 
 Bruneau, himself a noted French critic and composer, says, "No one 
 wUl deny his surprising technique or his unsurpassed gifts as an or- 
 chestral writer, but we might easily wish him more spontaneity and 
 less dryness." We cannot, however, miss the dignity and elevation 
 of style found in d'lndy's works or fail to] be impressed by their 
 wonderfully planned musical architecture. His music demands 
 study and familiarity and well repays such effort. D'Indy's work, 
 as a teacher, centres about the "Schola Cantorum" so-called, in which 
 several talented American students from Harvard and other Uni- 
 veirsities have already worked. Here all schools of composition are 
 thoroughly studied, and the rigid and formal methods of the Con- 
 servatoire abandoned. D'Indy believes that the materials for the 
 structure of modern music are to be found in the Fugue of Bach, and 
 in the cyclical Sonata Form and the free Air with Variations of Bee- 
 thoven — these forms, by reason of their inherent logic and simplicity, 
 allowing scope for infinite freedom of treatment. D'Indy is also a 
 thoroughly modern composer in that he is an artist in words as well 
 as in notes. His life of Cesar Franck is a model of biographical style, 
 and he has recently published a life of Beethoven refreshingly differ- 
 ent from the stock narratives. In fine, d'Indy is a genius, in whom 
 the intellectual aspects of the art, rather than purely emotional ap- 
 peal, are clearly in the ascendant. 
 
 1 See the elaborate analysis by Mr. Mason in the essay above referred to. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 
 
 283 
 
 We shall now comment briefly on one, only, of d'Indy's compo- 
 sitions, the Symphonic Poem, Istar, which is a set of variations^ 
 treated in a manner as novel as it is convincing; the work begin- 
 ning with variations which gradually become less elaborate imtil 
 finally only the theme itself is heard in its simple beauty. This 
 reversal of customary treatment is sanctioned by the nature of 
 the subject, and the correspondence between dramatic logic and 
 musical procedure is admirably planned. The story of the work 
 is that portion of the Assyrian epic Izdubax which describes, to quote 
 Apthorp's translation of the French version, "how Istar, daughter 
 of Sin, bent her steps toward the immutable land, towards the abode 
 of the dead, towards the seven-gated abode where He entered, to- 
 ward the abode whence there is no return." Then follows a descrip- 
 tion of the raiment and the jewels of which she is stripped at the en- 
 trance to each of the gates. "Jstar went into the immutable land, 
 she took and received the waters of Hfe. She presented the sublime 
 Waters, and thus, in the presence of all, set free the Son of Life, her 
 young lover." The structural novelty of the work is that, beginning 
 •mXh complexity — typifying the gorgeously robed Istar — the theme 
 discloses itseK httle by Httle, as she is stripped of her jewels, until at 
 last, when she stands forth in the full splendor of nudity, the theme 
 is heard unaccompanied, Hke Isis unveiled or, to change the figure, 
 like a scientific law which has been disclosed. The work is based on 
 three generative themes; the second, derived from the first and of 
 subsidiary importance, called by d'Indy the motif d'appel. It plays 
 its part, however, since it introduces the work and serves as a connec- 
 tion between the variations, seven in all. These themes are as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 1. Principal theme: 
 
 M 
 
 tq=t= 
 
 ^^ 
 
 -TCh 
 
 -Z^ 
 
 S 
 
 pfi 
 
 s-^ 
 
 
 i 
 
 ^3 
 
 1^ ^ i ^' dvJ. -U-^t^t? 
 
 ' For a detailed analysis the student Is referred to the account by the composer 
 himself in his Cours de Composition MusicaU, part II, pp. 484,-486 ; to Oilman's 
 Studies in Symphonic Music and to Vol. 3 of Mason's Short Studies of Oreat Master- 
 pieces. 
 
284 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AOT) A LANGUAGE 
 
 i 
 
 t=F;=^^^ 
 
 i 
 
 -S-bs)- 
 
 ^^^=WW"^^ 
 
 m 
 
 -\fd — -xi-^W 
 
 ^ ^^m= gygif^^# ^=^ 
 
 V- I* I g 
 
 4=t 
 
 tf 
 
 --f 
 
 m 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 «i 
 
 =P=-sz- 
 
 cresc. . . ff 
 2. Motif d'appel. 
 
 mf 
 
 ^ 
 
 3. Subsidiary theme, in form of a march. 
 
 By following the poem the imaginative listener can readily appre- 
 ciate the pictm-esque suggestiveness of the composer. The work 
 opens with a mysterious intoning, by a muted horn, of tie motif 
 d'appel, and then follows a triple presentation of the march theme 
 in F minor, scored for wood-wind and low strings — the melody sung 
 at first by the violas and clarinets and later by the bass clarinet and 
 'cellos. This original scoring establishes just the appropriate at- 
 mosphel-e for an entrance to the abode of captivity. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 
 
 285 
 
 ^^ 
 
 T^: 7^ 
 
 ^jgg j,q X 0f ^^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 f=t 
 
 iti*: 
 
 l<r 
 
 hm 
 
 
 i± 
 
 m 
 
 nr 
 
 r^ 
 
 ifSlE^ 
 
 ^^^^ q '. J: 
 
 t:*^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 &^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^S 
 
 ^F 
 
 gs^ttp 
 
 The first variation, in F major, employing all the tone-color of the 
 full orchestra, is a gorgeous picture of the Oriental splendor of Istar. 
 It is noteworthy that each variation contains a modulation to a key 
 a semitone higher, thus affording a factor of unity amid the elaborate 
 flowerings of the musical thought. The second variation, in E major 
 scored for strings and wood-wind, is significant for the way in which 
 the original theme is expanded into a flowing melody. The logical 
 derivation of the fabric from the first intervals of the main theme is 
 obvious, e. g. 
 
 m 
 
 **^iii 
 
 If 
 
 I I 
 
 -isnrr^ 
 
 ¥=^- 
 
 c 
 
 T 
 
 l^te 
 
 P exp ressifTnais simp le , 
 
 ^ 
 
 * 
 
 
 rj H r 
 
 ■^4-=!-^ 
 
 ^ ^1 I 1 i ^-lf^ 
 
 l^tlt^ 
 
 ■i»-=l- 
 
 tkm 
 
 i 
 
 aF'Itt^ . i 
 
 p^^ ^^ 
 
 5i 
 
 -^fc^ 
 
 &s^ 
 
 dit 
 
 T^^f- 
 
 ^f=r 
 
 ^E 
 
 » 
 
 ^" i ^ ^ h n g^^^- ^gjs^^^ 
 
 m 
 
286 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AM5 A LANGUAGE 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 '. ? 
 
 etc. 
 
 =rf 
 
 M: 
 
 The forth variation, in F-sharp major, scored for pizzicato strings 
 and staccato wood-wind, with light touches on horns, trumpets, cym- 
 bals, triangle and harps, introduces the scherzo mood into the work 
 and with its persistent 4 rhythm is of fascinating effect. 
 
 Trbs animi 
 
 ^ 5%4 ^^ 4 y#g 
 
 mf 
 
 =0#i#: 
 
 r^l- 
 
 i=P=t 
 
 S N 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 4^=5: 
 
 1*- 
 
 -tb-s- 
 
 T 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^^^^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 iJtaj ^^p-44^^^^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^1 
 
 £i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 2=^ 
 
 The lovehest variation for warmth and emotional appeal is the sixth, 
 in A-flat major (at in the orchestral score) for strings with the 
 gradual addition of the wood-wind and harps. Its climax certainly 
 does much to atone for any dryness found in d'Indy's other works. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 
 
 287 
 
 ^ 
 
 iW 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^"^^ 
 
 H 
 
 P express/ 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 .-1=- 
 
 :|^ 
 
 J 
 
 ^ 
 
 rsf; 
 
 i 
 
 ^J 
 
 i 
 
 S' 
 
 
 -^ , i 
 
 fe 
 
 ^^^^ 
 
 ^f-r 
 
 
 i- --g^^-^fHf- 
 
 ^, 
 
 g a^ — g 
 
 i-i 
 
 ^s 
 
 i 
 
 ^^a 
 
 In the next variation, at P, the trend of the work becomes increasingly 
 manifest for it is written in only two voices, scored for flute and vio- 
 lins and is a dramatic preparation for the announcement of the com- 
 plete main theme which is now proclaimed in unison by the full or- 
 chestra. The work closes with a transformation of the opening 
 march into F major, its majestic rhythm symbolizing the successful 
 result of Istar's quest. (See Supplement No. 62.) 
 
 Debussy, Claude AcMlle, (1862-1918) is certainly the embodiment, 
 as a composer, of Pater's saying that "Romanticism^ is the addition 
 
 1 From this comparison we should not wish it to be understood that Debussy 
 is merely an addition to the standard Romantic group of Schumann, Chopin, Liszt, 
 etc. ; his style, however, is surely Romantic in the broad sense of the term, i. o., 
 highly imaginative and individual. 
 
288 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 of strangeness to beauty"; for when we listen to his music we are 
 conscious of material and of forms of treatment which we have never 
 heard before. Debussy has listened to the promptings of his own 
 subtle imagination and has evolved a style as novel as it is beautiful. 
 As with all real originators, Debussy at the outset was fiercely chal- 
 lenged, and his music even to-day calls forth intolerant remarks on the 
 part of those who are suspicious of all artistic progress and evolution. 
 In this connection it is worthy of note that the French, notwithstand- 
 ing their national doctrine of liberty, have been chary of applying 
 this to composers who were departing from the beaten path. Berlioz, 
 whom now they acclaim as one of their greatest artists, was welcomed 
 as he deserved only after his fame had been established among the 
 Germans. Bizet was but slightly appreciated during his life. Franck 
 met with fierce opposition from the routine members of the profession; 
 and Debussy, although the work by which he won the "Prix de Rome" 
 in 1884 was acknowledged to be one of the most interesting which 
 had been heard at the Institute for years, was afterwards severely 
 criticized for the setting made in Rome to Rossetti's Blessed Damozel 
 because, forsooth, he had strayed too far from established and re- 
 vered tradition. We Americans may have a distinct feeling of pride 
 in the knowledge that the music of Debussy, the strongest note of 
 which is personal freedom — the inherent right of the artist to ex- 
 press in his own way the promptings of his imagination — was widely 
 studied and appreciated in this land of the free before it had begun 
 to have anything like a universal acceptance among the French 
 themselves. 
 
 But can any connection with the past be traced in the style of 
 this remarkable' composer, and can we discover any sources, in the 
 world of nature, from which he has derived the materials for his novel 
 and fascinating harmonies.'' When we definitely analyze Debussy's 
 harmonic scheme, we see that he looks both forward and back. Much 
 of his original tone coloring is derived from the old church modes 
 such as the Lydian, the Dorian and the Phrygian; for example, the 
 mysterious opening chords of his opera, and the following passage 
 from La CathMrale engloufie. 
 
 ' The trh exceptiormel, trhs curieux, tris solitaire Claude Dehussy as he has been 
 aptly characterized. 
 
THE MODERN FKENCH SCHOOL 
 Sonore sans dureti 
 
 289 
 
 4- 
 
 J- 
 
 ^4^ 
 ^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 it: 
 
 ^^ ^ 
 
 -^z 
 
 z^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 -19-^ 
 
 3=i^^s 
 
 //• 
 
 -g (9- 
 
 i: J 
 
 
 Bta: 
 
 «S^=i=»f^ 
 
 -gi- 
 
 V 
 
 5^0! Jassa 
 
 i 
 
 S 
 
 =t= 
 
 -i- 
 
 ^ 
 
 -s|- 
 
 - ?s|- 
 
 SI 
 
 iE 
 
 IS 
 
 |7^ 
 
 # ^^ 
 
 i 
 
 i=i 
 
 S 
 
 -i 
 
 ISZ 
 
 i3i 
 
 ^ 
 
 7S»- 
 
 -^- 
 
 i9va dossa 
 
 -f- 
 
 ^i;a bassa 
 
 8va bassa 
 
 He is also extremely fond of a scale of whole tones, which had been 
 somewhat anticipated by Liszt and members of the Russian* school. 
 In this the normal perfect 4th and 5th and the major 6th become 
 augmented, thus producing a very peculiar but alluring harmonic 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 z^ ^^^-^^ 
 
 1 The first authentic use being probably by Dargomijsky in his opera the Stone 
 Guest. 
 
290 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Moquer 
 
 Minstrels 
 
 Modern composers have been feeling for some time that harmonic 
 scope was needlessly limited by clinging too closely to the major and 
 minor diatonic scales; and Brahms, Tchaikowsky and Franck have 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 
 
 291 
 
 all introduced the old modes for special contrasts of color. But no 
 one has used them so subtly as Debussy. In his music they oftem 
 take the place of our customary scales with their deep-rooted har- 
 monic tendencies and perpetual suggestion of traditional cadences. 
 This return to the greater flexibiUty and variety of the old modes 
 is a significant feature in modern music and Debussy's example 
 in this respect has been highly beneficial. As to his alleged use of 
 new material, an astute French critic has observed that "a revolution 
 is merely an evolution rendered apparent." By no means all of 
 music can be found in nature, but the basis is there, and it remains 
 for the artistic imagination to select and to amplify. Already many 
 years ago the scientist Helmholtz said, "Our system of scales and of 
 harmonic tissues does not rest upon unalterable natural laws, but is 
 partly at least the result of aesthetic principles of selection, which 
 have already changed, and will change still further with the progres- 
 sive development of humanity."* In other words the limits of re- 
 ceptivity of the human ear cannot be foreseen nor can the workings 
 of the artistic imagination be prescribed. The so-called Chord of 
 Nature,'' consisting of the overtones struck off by any sounding body, 
 and re-enforced on the pianoforte with its large sounding board, 
 contains in epitome this basic material of music; and the several 
 octaves represent in a striking manner the harmonic combinations 
 used at different periods of development. Thus durii^g the early 
 centuries nothing but triads were in use; only gradually were 7th 
 chords — those of four factors — introduced. Wagner was the first 
 to realize the possibilities of chords of the 9th, 11th, and 13th. In 
 Debussy these combinations are used as freely as triads, e. g. 
 
 Pelliaa et Milisande 
 
 M'h"? , p !?»h 
 
 
 m 
 
 ~~ '■ "^^^ letc. 
 
 ■ ^1-^4-^ *"^--y^d^ 
 
 3f3:^ 
 
 i^ 
 
 S ^=: 
 
 1— 1 
 
 ' For an en lightening amplification of this point see the first chapter of Wallace's 
 The Threshold of Mime. 
 
 ' See page 193. 
 
292 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ZafiUe avxc cheveux de lin 
 
 ^^M 
 
 i 
 
 a: 
 
 *-• 
 
 mm^ 
 
 -EF 
 
 -H- -isi-; 
 
 ^f)f3 etc 
 
 PP 
 
 I 
 
 
 J: 
 
 H!, 
 
 
 
 SSS 
 
 =i=?C 
 
 *--gi-v 
 
 f= 
 
 
 :S. 
 
 Reflets dans Veam, 
 
 and he has gone far beyond anything known before in a subtle use 
 of the extreme dissonant elements, his sensitive imagination evi- 
 dently hearing sounds hitherto unreahzed. This surmise is cor- 
 roborated by Debussy's own statement that, while serving as a young 
 man on garrison duty, he took great delight in listening to the over- 
 tones of bugles and of the bells from a nearby convent. This chro- 
 matic style had been anticipated by Chopin whose use of the har- 
 monic series in those prismatic, spray-like groups of superadded 
 tones is such a striking feature in his pianoforte works. There is, 
 therefore, nothing outre or bizarre in Debussy's idiom; it is but a 
 logical continuation of former tendencies. His works show great 
 variety and comprise pianoforte pieces, many songs, a remarkable 
 string quartet, some daringly original tone-poems for full orchestra, 
 several cantatas, and — most unique of all — his opera of PelUas et 
 Melisande, based on the well-known play by Maeterlinck. A few 
 comments may profitably be made on each of these types. With 
 few exceptions aU his pianoforte pieces have suggestive titles, e. g.. 
 Reflets dans I'eau, Jardins sous la pluie. La soirie dans Grenade, 
 Poissons d'or, Voiles, Le vent dans la plaine, Bruyhrea. They are 
 
THE MODEKSr FRENCH SCHOOL 293 
 
 mood-pictures in which, the composer has tried to imprison certain 
 elusive states of mind — or the impressions made on his susceptible 
 imagination by the phenomena of Nature: the subtly blended hues 
 of a sunset, the changing rhythm of drifting clouds, the indefinite 
 miu-mur of the sea, the dripping of rain. For Debussy, like Bee- 
 thoven before him, is a passionate lover of Nature. To quote his own 
 words, he finds his great object lessons of artistic liberty in "the 
 unfolding of the leaves in Spring, in the wavering winds and changing 
 clouds." Again, "It benefits me more to watch a sunrise than to 
 Usten to a symphony. Go not to others for advice, but take counsel 
 from the passing breezes, which relate the history of the world to 
 those who listen." Thus we see that Debussy submits himself to 
 the spells of Nature and tries to transmute them into sound. The 
 only analogies to use in a verbal description of his music must be 
 drawn from nature, for in each are the same shadowy pictures, the 
 same meltiag outlines.' Debussy has a close affinity with that 
 school of painters known as impressionists or symboUsts — Manet, 
 Monet, Degas, Whistler — and is doing with novel combinations of 
 sound, with delicate effects of light and shade, what they have done 
 for modern freedom in color. His music has been called a "sonorous 
 impressionism." It might equally well be phrased "rhythmic sound." 
 To those conservatives who find it difficult to think in terms of 
 musical color, and wish their imagination rather than that of genius to 
 be the standard, the retort of the artist Whistler is applicable: To 
 a lady who viewing one of his sunsets remarked, "But, Mr. Whistler, 
 I have never seen a sunset like that" came the reply "Yes, Madam, 
 but don't you wish you had.''" In his songs Debussy has been most 
 fastidious as to choice of texts, his favorite poets being Verlaine, 
 Baudelaire and Mallarmd, called "symbolists," since the aim of their 
 art is to resemble music and to leave for the reader a wide margin 
 for symbolic interpretation. His songs throughout are imaginative 
 and fanciful in the highest degree, and the instrumental part a beauti- 
 ful background of color. Of Debussy's compositions for orchestra 
 the one to win — and possibly to deserve — the most lasting popu- 
 larity is L'apres-midi d'un Faune, which is an extraordinary trans- 
 lation into music of the veiled visions and the shadowy beings of an 
 eclogue of Mallarme in which, as Edmund Gosse says, "Words are 
 
 ' For farther suggestive comments on Debussy's style consult the Essay on 
 PelUas et M^isande by Lawrence Gihnan (G. Schirmer, New York) and in par- 
 ticular an article by the same author in the Century Magazine for August, 1918. 
 
294 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 used in haxmonious combinations merely to suggest moods or con- 
 ditions, never to state them definitely."^ By perfect rhythmic free- 
 dom, and by delicately-colored waves of sound Debussy has expressed 
 in a manner most felicitous just the atmosphere of remoteness, and 
 of primeval simplicity. By many this work is considered the most 
 hypnotic composition in existence, and the writer trusts that his 
 readers have heard a poetic interpretation of it by a fine orchestra. 
 The salient features of Debussy's style are found in Pell&as et Meli- 
 sande — by far the most important operatic work since Wagner. 
 Maeterlinck's play deals with legendary, mysterious, symbolic beings, 
 and the entire subject-matter was admirably suited to Debussy's 
 genius. As Maeterlinck says, "The theatre should be the reflex of 
 life, not this external life of outward show, but the true inner life 
 which is entirely one of contemplation." This opera is quite different 
 from any previously written, in that the characters sing throughout 
 in recitative now calm, now .impassioned, but never in set, periodic 
 arias. In fact, here we have at last a true musical speech, which is 
 indeed another thing from music set to words. Debussy has defended 
 this peculiar style in the following words: "Melody is, if I may say 
 so, almost anti-lyric, and powerless to express the constant change 
 of emotion or life. Melody is suitable only for the song (chanson), 
 which confirms a fixed sentiment. I have never been willing that 
 my music should hinder, through technical exigencies, the changes 
 of sentiment and passion felt by my characters. It is effaced as 
 soon as it is necessary that these should have perfect liberty in their 
 gestures as in their cries, in their joy as in their sorrow." 
 
 Now that we may look forward to no more -compositions from 
 Debussy^ — he died in March, 1918 — it is certainly fitting to attempt 
 a forecast as to the permanent wortib of his achievements and his 
 influence upon future development. Like all music his compositions 
 may be judged from several points of view: the worth of the content, 
 the perfection or inadequacy of style and the manner in which the 
 media of presentation are used. To begin with the last characteristic 
 — there is no doubt that Debussy has enlarged the resom^ces of our 
 two chief modern instruments, the pianoforte and the orchestra. 
 By him the pianoforte is always treated according to its true nature, 
 
 ^ Gosse also calls it a. famous miracle of intelligibility . 
 
 ' The best books yet written on Debussy and his style are those by Mrs. Lie- 
 bich and Louis Laloy. Consult also the comprehensive essay by E. B. HUl in 
 Vol. Ill of the Art of Music. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 295 
 
 I. e., as an intimateri coloristic instrument and, in amplifying all its 
 resources of tone-color, flexible rhythm and descriptive power he is 
 the worthy successor of Chopin. In his orchestral compositions 
 such as the Nocturnes (Clovds, Festivals and Sirens), the Sea Pieces 
 aad Images, of which the Rondes de Printemps and Ibiria are the 
 most signiflcant, there is a union of warmth and deUcacy a^ individ- 
 ual as it is rare. IbSria, in fact, for vitality of imagination and 
 flawless workmanship may be considered the acme of Debussy's 
 orchestral style. The great resources of the modern orchestra are 
 often abused. Compositions are rich and gorgeous but at the same 
 time inflated, turgid and bombastic. Certain works of Richard 
 Strauss and Mahler are examples in point. Debussy's treatment, 
 however, of the varied modern orchestra is remarkable for its eco- 
 nomy. The melodic lines stand out clearly, there is always a rich 
 supporting background and we are convinced that everything sounds 
 just as the composer meant. As to the structure and style of his 
 music, these are more subtle matters to estimate. We may acknowl- 
 edge at once that Debussy's style is free and individual, for he has 
 written his music his own way, with slight regard for academic models. 
 But a thorough examination of his works shows no evidence of care- 
 lessness or uncertainty of aim. There is, to be sure, nothing of that 
 routine development of musical material which we associate with 
 classic practice — instead a free, imaginative growth. But there 
 is always a definite structural foundation to support the freedom of 
 expression. This coherence is sometimes gained by a single domi- 
 nating note about which everything is grouped, as, in the Soiree dans 
 Grenade, the C-sharp and in the Reflets dans I'eau, an F. Most of De- 
 bussy's compositions imply the principles, albeit freely used, of Two- 
 and Three-part form and the fundamental laws of key-relationship 
 and of artistic contrast. 
 
 In considering the value of Debussy's message, i. e., the content 
 of his music, the animus and predilection of the hearer have to be 
 taken into account. For his music is so intensely subjective and 
 intimate that you like it or not, as the case may be. Many persons, 
 however, become very fond of it, when they have accustomed them- 
 selves to its pecuUar idiom. The charge that there is in Debussy 
 no melody of a purely musical nature, as some critics have asserted"^, 
 
 ' See the 3d volume of Great Composers by D. G. Mason and also the essay on 
 Debussy in Contemporary Composers by the same author. 
 
296 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 seems to the writer too sweeping and not supported by the inner 
 evidence. It may be granted that Debussy's melodic line is very 
 fluid and elastic, hke Wagner's "continuous melody," not definitely 
 sectionalized by balanced phrases or set cadences. But it surely has 
 its own right to existence — music being pre-eminently the art of 
 freedom — and let us remember that Nature herself has melting 
 outiines, shadowy vistas and subtle rhythms. Debussy, in fact, 
 is the poet of the "indefinite" and the "suggestive" and his music 
 has had a great influence in freeing expression from scholastic bonds. 
 Even from the standpoint of the popular conception of "tune" it is 
 difficult to see what objection can be made to the following melodies: 
 
 L'islejoyeuse 
 
 Molto rubato 
 
 p "#g^B^ 
 
 E 
 
 ¥^ 
 
 m 
 
 etc. 
 
 Animctto 
 
 Poisaons d' or 
 
 g 
 
 iifetii 
 
 4^ 
 
 #-•- 
 
 H 1 1 F 
 
 -^■—^Biiid- 
 
 ^S^S 
 
 ifzti 
 
 :et<! 
 
 w 
 
 Cortige 
 
 Moderato 
 
 It cannot be denied that such an individual style as Debussy's i& 
 hable to manneristic treatment, though whether he should be called 
 "the prince of mannerists"* is decidedly open to debate. Some 
 critics feel that he has over-used the whole-tone scale and it must be 
 confessed, he has a rather affected fondness for a formula of block- 
 like chords, e. g. 
 
 Danse sacrie 
 
 i 
 
 ^rw^^^m 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 =p 
 
 I 
 
 la^E 
 
 ■g ^ ^ 
 
 ■y t- 
 
 i 
 
 ^ According to Ernest Newman in a well-known article in the Musical timea 
 (London). 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 297 
 
 But these, after all, are but "spots on the sun." To sum up our 
 conclusions: the following merits in Debussy's music, it seems to me, 
 cannot be gainsaid. He has widened incalculably the vocabulary 
 of music and has expressed in poetic and convincing fashion moods 
 which never before had been attempted. In his work are new rev- 
 elations of the power of the imagination. As Lawrence Gilman 
 keenly remarks, "He has known how to find music (in Pelleas el 
 Melisande) for the subUme rieflection of Arkel, 'If I were God, I 
 should pity the hearts of men.' " Debussy was also gifted with rare 
 critical abihty and many of his observations are worthy of deep 
 consideration. For example — "Music should be cleared of all 
 scientific apparatus. Music should seek humbly to give pleasure; 
 great beauty is possible between these limits. Extreme complexity 
 is the opposite of art. Beauty should be perceptible; it should im- 
 pose itself on us, or insinuate itself, without any effort on our part 
 to grasp it. Look at Leonardo da Vinci, Mozart! These are great 
 artists." 
 
 No account of modern French music would be satisfactory which 
 omitted to mention several composers who, though of somewhat 
 lesser importance than d'Indy and Debussy, have nevertheless 
 achieved works of distinction and charm. These are Chabrier, Faure, 
 Duparc, Chausson and Ravel. Chabrier (1841-1894) is noted for a 
 bold exuberance and vividness of expression, for a sensp of humor 
 and for a power of orchestral color and brUhance which have not 
 been duplicated. His style is entirely his own and he is a veritable 
 incarnation of "vis GalUca." Born in the South of France, the hot 
 blood of that magic land seems to throb in his music. We have from 
 him several pianoforte compositions of marked originahty, in partic- 
 ular the Bourree Fantastique, some inimitable songs, e. g., Les Cigales 
 and La VUlanelle des petits Canards and, most famous of all, his 
 Rhapsody for orchestra entitled Espana, based on Spanish themes. 
 This work has proved to be a landmark in descriptive power and 
 shares with Rimsky-Korsakoff's Scheherazade the claim of being the 
 most brilliant piece of orchestral writing in modern time^. Some of 
 Chabrier's best work is in his opera of Gwendoline, especially the 
 Prelude to the second act which is often played by itself. 
 
 Although Faure (1845-stUl living) is more versatile and prolific 
 than Chabrier, his fame rests upon his achievements in two fields — 
 the song and pianoforte composition. Some of his pianoforte pieces 
 are, to be sure, of a light, salon type; yet in many we find a true. 
 
298 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 poetic sentiment and they are all written in a thoroughly pianistic 
 idiom. In fact, prior to Debussy Faure was the only Frenchman 
 worthy to compare in mastery of pianoforte style with Chopin, 
 Schumann and Liszt. As a song composer Faure ranjss with the 
 highest in modern times. The exotic charm and finesse of workman- 
 ship in such songs as Clair de Lune, Les Roses d'Ispahan cannot be 
 denied and the instrumental part is always worthy of the com- 
 poser's genius for pianoforte style, e. g., the accompaniment to Nell 
 being a model in its free polyphony and richness of effect. Faure 
 has been fastidious in his selection of texts and he is fortunate to 
 have been able to avail himself of the genius of such lyric poets as 
 Leconte de Lisle, Baudelaire, Verlaine, SuUy-Prudhomme and others. 
 Indeed as a song-composer Faure may fairly be grouped with the 
 great German masters. His songs are not German, songs, but they 
 are just as subtle in expressing all that is finein French spirit as those 
 of Schumami and Brahms in their Teutonic sentiment. For this 
 reason alone Faure is a commanding figure in modern French music. 
 He is also the author of a violin sonata which has enjoyed a popular- 
 ity second only to that of Franck and a Quintet for pianoforte and 
 strings of distinct originality. 
 
 Duparc (1848-still living) one of the earliest of Cesar Franck's 
 pupils — though working in practically but a single field and Hiough 
 by reason of ill health he has written nothing since 1885 — wiU al- 
 ways hold high rank for the beauty and breadth of his songs, especially 
 L' invitation au Voyage, Extase and Phydile. This last is considered 
 by the writer the most exquisite song in modern literature; its melody, 
 its modulations, its accompaniment alike are flawless.^ 
 
 Chausson (1855-1899) the most gifted of Franck's pupUe, though 
 without d'Indy's strength of character, was killed by an unfortunate 
 accident^ just as he was ready for an adequate self-expression. He 
 had a sensitive imagination, an individual harmonic style; and in 
 those works which he has left — notably several songs, a Quartet 
 for pianoforte and strings and the Symphony in B-flat major, op. 20 
 — there is found a spirit of genuine romantic inspiration. 
 
 Although Ravel (1875-stiIl living) cannot claim to be a pioneer 
 like Debussy — since in his music there are frequent traces of the 
 
 1 An excellent collection of modern French songs may be found in the two 
 volumes published by the Oliver Ditson Co. in the Musicians Library. 
 
 ^ While he was riding a bicycle. 
 
THE MODERN FRENCH SCHOOL 
 
 299 
 
 exliberance of Chabrier, the suavity of Faure, the atmosphere and im- 
 pressionistic tendencies of Debussy and the exoticism of the Neo- 
 Russians — yet he is indeed no empty reflection of these men, for he 
 has his own bold, fantastic style and has been a daring experimenter 
 in freedom of harmony and structure. One finds a power of ironic 
 brilliance and of unexpected harmonic transformations certainly new 
 in modern literature. RaveP is one of the most versatile and pro- 
 lific of all the younger Frenchmen having composed significant works 
 in at least four fields: songs, particularly the set entitled Histoires 
 Naturelles, which reveal an unusual instinct for delicate description; 
 and pianoforte pieces of which Miroirs, the dazzling tour de force 
 Jeux d'eau, the Valses nobles et sentimentales, the Sonatine, the Pavane 
 and, above all, the PoemSi Gaspard de la Nuit {Ondine, Le GibbeP and 
 Scarho) are conspicuous examples of his style. Furthermore in the 
 field of chamber music are found a String Quartet, remarkable for 
 inspiration and for certainty of workmanship, and a Trio (for piano- 
 forte, violin and 'cello) which is one of the most brilliant modern 
 works, of convincing originality in its freedom of rhythm, e. g., the 
 opening measures of the first moveme,nt. 
 
 Modir4 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 t m ^ ^ 
 
 ^^t4 
 
 
 S 
 
 ^ 
 
 =E=fe 
 
 -t- 
 
 =E: 
 
 i^ 
 
 fiz 
 
 ^ 
 
 &^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 % 
 
 ^^ 
 
 f^^!^±^^^a=ii^ 
 
 &t=i 
 
 -itp^ 
 
 M. 
 
 
 :^=£: 
 
 etc. 
 
 i 
 
 s^ 
 
 ' The best account of his works and style is to be found in the volume Maurice 
 Ravel et son oeuvre by Roland Manuel. 
 
 2 Le Gibbet is without doubt the most realistic piece of musical description in 
 our time. 
 
300 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Finally, for orchestra his Spanish Rhapsody ranks with Chabrier's 
 Espana and Debussy's Iberia as the acme of descriptive power and of 
 orchestral color. His Mother Goose Suite (originally a set of four- 
 hand pieces but since orchestrated with incomparable finesse) illus- 
 trates his humor and play of fancy. It has become a truly popular con- 
 cert number. Ravel's chef d'oeuvre the "choreographic symphony" 
 Daphnis et Chloe displays an extraordinary synthetic grasp, for all 
 the factors — plot, action, the musical fabric, a large orchestra and 
 a chorus of mixed voices behind the scenes — are held together with 
 a master hand. This work ranks with Debussy's Pellias et Melisande 
 as the most significant dramatic work of recent years. 
 
 It is evident, we trust, from the foregoing somewhat condensed 
 estimates that the modern French school is very much alive, that it 
 has to its credit numerous distinct achievements and that it contains 
 the promise of still further growth. The French nature, which is 
 highly emotional and yet, at its best, always controlled^ by a regard 
 for fitness and clarity of thought, is particularly suited to express 
 itself worthily in music, for in no other form of artistic endeavor is 
 this balance more requisite. Music without emotion is, to be sure, 
 like "sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal" and dies in short order. 
 On the other hand, music which is a mere display of crude emotion 
 soon palls. The works of modern French composers deserve en- 
 thusiastic study for their charm, their finish and their refined emo- 
 tional power. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 NATIONAL SCHOOLS— RUSSIAN, BOHEMIAN AND SCANDINAVIAN 
 
 T> EFORE beginning an account of Tchaikowslq'^, the most noted 
 ■'-^ though not necessarily the greatest of the Russian composers, a 
 few words may be said concerning nationalism in music, the chief rep- 
 resentatives of which are the Russians, the Bohemians, the Scandina- 
 vians and the Hungarians. Of these, however, the present-day 
 Russian School is the most active and contributes constantly new 
 factors to musical evolution. This grafting of forms of expression 
 derived from the outlying nations on to the parent-stock of music — 
 
 ' Witness the wonderful manifestation of these qualities hj the Ffencb in the 
 recent war. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 301 
 
 which for some three hundred years had been in the exclusive control 
 of Italy, G^many and Frajace — has been a stimulating factor in the 
 development of the last half-century. For the idiom of music was 
 becoming somewhat stereotyped, and it has been noticeably revital- 
 ized by the incorporation of certain "exotic" traits, of which there 
 run through all national music these three: (1) the use, in their folk- 
 songs, of other forms of scale and mode than are habitual with our- 
 selves; (2) the preference given to the minor mode and the free com- 
 mingling of major and minor; (3) the great rhythmic variety and 
 especially the use of groups foreign to our musical sense, such as 
 measures of 5 and 7 beats, and the intentional placing of the accent 
 on parts of the measure which with us are ordinarily unaccented. 
 Every country has its folk-songs — the product of national rather 
 than individual genius — but Russia, in the number and variety of 
 these original melodies is most exceptional. The Russian expresses 
 himself spontaneously in song, and so we find appropriate music for 
 every activity or incident in daily life: planting songs, reaping songs, 
 boating songs, wedding songs, funeral songs; Russian soldiers sing on 
 the march and even enter upon a desperate charge with songs on their 
 hps. In certain battles of the Crimean War this fact caused much com- 
 ment from the English officers. For many centuries the bulk of the 
 Russian people has been downtrodden; and the country, with its end- 
 less steppes and gloomy climate, is hardly such as to call forth the 
 sparkling vivacity found in the Scandinavian and Hungarian songs. 
 The prevalent mood in Russian folk-songs is one of melancholy or of 
 brooding, wistful tenderness — very of teai in the old Greek modes, 
 the Aeolian, Dorian and Phrygian. From this we see the close con- 
 nection existing between the Russian and Greek Churches. The 
 Russian liturgy is exceedingly old, and Russian church music, always 
 unaccompanied, has long been celebrated for its dignified character, 
 especially those portions rendered by men's voices, which are capable 
 of unusually low notes,'^ as majestic as those of an organ. 
 
 During the entire 18th century the development of music in 
 Russia was in the hands of imported Italians; the beg innin gs of a 
 national type being first made in the works of GUnka, born 1804. 
 By the nuddle of the 19th century two schools had arisen, the Neo- 
 
 1 In Grove's Dictionary, under Bass, occurs this statement: This voice, found, 
 or at least cultivated, only in Russia is by special training made to descend to 
 
 FF -^ -' 
 
302 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 Russian group of Balakireff, Borodin, Cui, Rimsky-Korsakoff and 
 Moussorgsky, who believed in the extreme development of national 
 traits in melody, rhythm and color; and a second group which was 
 more cosmopolitan in its tastes and believed that Russian music, 
 without abandoning its national flavor, could be written in a style of 
 universal appeftl. The chief members of this group were Rubinstein 
 and Tchaikowsky, and distinguished pupils of the latter, in particular 
 Rachmaninofif and Glazounoff. To the world at large Tchaikowsky, 
 of them all, has made the strongest appeal; though he himself said 
 that Rimsky-Korsakoff as an orchestral colorist was more able, and 
 certainly Moussorgsky has a more strongly marked individuality. 
 Tchaikowsky (1840-1893) like so many of the Russian composers, 
 began as a cultivated amateur who showed no special musical gifts, 
 save a sensitive nature and a general fondness for the art. He 
 studied in the school of jurisprudence and won a post in the Ministry 
 of Justice. In 1861, however, his musical nature awaking with a 
 bound, he gave up all official work and for the sake of art faced a life 
 of poverty. Under the teaching of Nicholas Rubinstein at the 
 Petrograd Conservatory he made such amazing progress that in five 
 years he himseK was Professor of Harmony at Moscow and had 
 begun his long series of compositions — at first operas of merely 
 local fame. There now followed years of great activity spent in 
 teaching and composing — weU-known works being the first String 
 Quartet and the Pianoforte Concerto in B flat minor, first performed 
 by von Billow at Boston in '88. At this period his health completely 
 broke down, the immediate cause being an unhappy marriage. He 
 finally rallied bift had to travel abroad for a year, and for the rest 
 of his life his temper, never bright, was overcast with gloom. There 
 now entered Tchaikowsky's life Frau von Meek, the woman who 
 played the part of fairy godmother. She greatly admired his music, 
 was wealthy and generous and, that he might have entire leisiu-e for 
 composition, settled upon him a liberal annuity. Their relationship 
 is one of the most remarkable in the annals of art; for, fearing that 
 the ideal would be shattered, they met but once, quite by accident, 
 and Tchaikowsky was "acutely embarrassed." We have a lengthy 
 and impassioned correspondence, and Tchaikowsky's 4th Symphony, 
 dedicated "a mon meilleur ami," is the result of this friendship. 
 In 1891, invited to New York for the dedication of Carnegie Hall, 
 he made his memorable American tour. His success was genuine, 
 and was the beginning of the popularity his music has always enjoyed 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 303 
 
 in this country. For several years Tchaikowsky had been working 
 at his Sixth Symphony, to which he himself gave the distinctive title 
 "Pathetic." This work ends with one of the saddest dirges in all 
 literature, although Tchaikowsky, during its composition, as we know 
 from his letters, had never been in a happier state of mind or worked 
 more passionately and freely. He himself says, "I consider it the 
 best, especially the most open-hearted of all my works." When, 
 however, he suddenly died in 1893, there were rumors of suicide, but 
 it is now definitely settled that his death was caused by cholera.^ 
 To turn now to his achievements, it may be asserted that Tchai- 
 kowsky was marvellously versatile, composing in every form save 
 for the organ; for [productiveness, only Mozart, Schubert and Liszt 
 can be compared with him. His works comprise eight operas, six 
 symphonies, sis symphonic poems, three overtures, four orchestral 
 suites, two pianoforte concertos, a vioUn concerto, three string quar- 
 tets, a wonderful trio, about one hundred songs and a large number 
 of pianoforte pieces. In addition he made several settings of the 
 Russian liturgy and edited many volumes of church music. What- 
 ever may be the final estimate of his music, it assuredly has great 
 vogue at present, for it is an intense expression of that mental and 
 spiritual unrest so characteristic of our times. As Byron was said 
 to have but one subject, himself, so aU Tchaikowsky's music is the 
 message of his highly emotional and feverish sensibility. He is in- 
 variably eloquent in the presentation of his material, although the 
 thoughts are often slight and the impression made not lasting. He 
 pours out his emotions with the impulsiveness and abandon so char- 
 acteristic of his race, and this lack of serenity, of restraint, is surely 
 his gravest weakness. We are reminded by his music of a fire which 
 either glows fitfuUy or bursts forth into a fierce uncontrolled blaze, 
 but where a steady white heat is too often missing. His style has 
 been concisely described as fiery exulatation on a basis of languid 
 melancholy. To all this we may retort that what he lacks in pro- 
 fundity and firm control, he makes up in spontaneity, wealth of im- 
 agination and, above aU, warmth of color. It is illogical to expect 
 his music to be different from what it is. He expressed himself sin- 
 cerely and his style is the direct outcome of his own temperament 
 plus his nationaUty. Tchaikowsky was widely read in modern 
 literature — Dickens and Thackeray being favorite authors — and 
 
 1 The writer had this statement from the lips of Tchaikowsky's own brother, 
 Modeste. 
 
304 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 had travelled much. The breadth of his cultivation is shown in the 
 subjects of his symphonic poems and the texts of his songs, which 
 are from Shakespeare, Dante, Goethe and Bryon. However much 
 estimates may differ as to the import of Tchaikowsky's message, he 
 is universally recognized as a superb "colorist," one of the masters 
 of modern orchestral treatment; who, by his subtle feeling for rich- 
 ness and variety of tone, has enlarged the means of musical expression. 
 This is especially shown in the characteristic use he makes of the or- 
 chestra in its lower ranges. As Brahms, for depth of thought, was 
 compared with Browning, so Tchaikowsky may well be likened to 
 such poets as Shelley and Swinburne, so exquisite is his instinct for 
 tonal beauty and for delicacy of shading. At times, to be sure, he 
 fairly riots in gorgeous colors — this being the result of his Slavic 
 blood — but few composers have been able to achieve such brilliancy 
 without becoming vulgar. 
 
 As to the charge of pessimism often made against Tchaikowsky, 
 he was a thinker, an explorer into the mysteries of himian aspiration 
 and disappointment,^ and his music seems weighted down with the 
 riddle of the universe. This introspective dejection, however, is a 
 natural result of his temperament and his nationaUty. If to us of a 
 more hopeful outlook upon life it seems morbid, we should simply 
 remember that our conditions have been different. A distinction 
 must likewise be made between the expression of such feehngs in art 
 and their influence in actual hfe. As a man Tchaikowsky was prac- 
 tical, conscientious, and did not in the least allow his feelings to 
 emasculate him. He was a prodigious worker and throughout his 
 career, in the face of ill health and many adverse circumstances, 
 showed immense courage. His creed was no ignoble one — "To 
 regret the past, to hope in the future, and never to be satisfied with 
 the present; this is my life." And to a gushing patroness of art who 
 asked him what were his ideals, his simple reply was "My ideal is to 
 become a good composer." Certain Enghsh critics in their fault- 
 finding have been particularly boresome, because, forsooth, Tchai- 
 kowsky's music does not show the serenity of Brahms or the sohdity 
 or stolidity of their own composers. To the well-fed and prosperous 
 Briton "God's in his Heaven, all's right with the world" is hardly 
 an expression of faith, but a certainty of existence. Not so with the 
 
 1 See the passage from his diary (quoted on page 504 of the Biography by his 
 brother) in which he writes — ' ' What touching love and compassion for mankind 
 lie in these words : ' Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden ! ' In 
 GOjnparison with the§e simple wo'd? 3.U the Psalms of David are as nothing." 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 305 
 
 Russian, upon whom the oppression of centuries has left its stamp. 
 This same note of gloomy or even morbid introspection is found in 
 some of the great Hterature of the world — in the Bible, the Greek 
 Tragedies and in Shakespeare. Granted that optimism is the only 
 working creed for every-day life, until the millenium arrives a sincere 
 and artistic expression of the sorrows of humanity will always strike 
 a note in oppressed souls. 
 
 Each of Tchaikowsky's last three symphonies is a remarkable 
 work. The Fourth is most characteristically Russian and certainly 
 the most striking in its uncompromising directness of expression. 
 The first movement announces a recurrent, intensely subjective motto 
 typical of that impending Fate which would not aUow Tchaikowsky 
 happiness."^ The slow movement is based upon a Russian folk song 
 of a melancholy beauty, sung by the oboe, and another, already cited 
 (see Chapter II, p. 33), is incorporated in the Finale. The Scherzo is 
 unique as an orchestral tour de force; for, with the exception of a 
 short middle portion for wood-wind and brass, it is for the string or- 
 chestra playing pizzicato throughout. The effect is extremely fan- 
 tastic and resembles that of ghosts flitting about in their stocking- 
 feet or of sleep-chasings, to use Whitman's expression." The Finale 
 is a riot of natural, primitive joy, a picture — as the composer says 
 — of a popular festivity. "When you find no joy within you, go 
 among ike people, see how fully they give themselves up to joyous 
 feelings." Fate sounds its warniqg, but in vain; nothing can repress 
 the exultation of the composer. "Enjoy the joy of others and — 
 you stiU can live." The work is sensational, even trivial in places; 
 but it reveals sincerity and elemental life. The composer lays him- 
 self bare and we see a real man — not a masked hypocrite — with 
 all his joys and sorrows, caught, as Henley would say, "in the fell 
 clutch of circumstance," bludgeoned by Fate. 
 
 The Sixth Symphony, the Pathetic, is the most popular and, on 
 the whole, Tchaikowslqr's most sustained work. It owes its hold 
 upon public esteem to the eloquent way in which it presents that 
 "maladie du siecle" which, in all modern art,' is such a prominent note. 
 The mood may be a morbid one but we cannot mistake the con- 
 
 1 See the detailed program by the composer himself, cited in Nieckg' Program 
 Music. 
 
 2 For this simile I am indebted to Mr. Philip Hale. 
 
 ' For further comment see the Life of Tchaikowsky by Rosa Newmarch. 
 
306 MUSIC: AN AKT AM) A LANGUAGE 
 
 viction with which it is treated. The work is likewise significant 
 because of the novel grouping of movemeaits. The first is in complete 
 sonata form and for finished architecture will stand comparison with 
 any use of that form. The themes are eloquent, well contrasted and 
 organically developed. The orchestration is a masterpiece.' The 
 second movement is the one famous for its use of five beats a meas- 
 ure throughout; and its trio, on a persistent pedal note D, is a striking 
 example of the Russian tendency to become fairly obsessed with one 
 rhythm. It is an intentional, artistic use of monotony and may be 
 compared to the Umitless Russian Steppes. If it seem strange to 
 Western Europeans, it should be remembered that the music is 
 Russian and portrays a mood perfectly natural to that people. The 
 third movement is a combination of a scherzo and a march — of a 
 triumphant nature. The Finale is a threnody, one of overpowering 
 grief, the motto of which might be "vanity of vanities, all is vanity." 
 It abounds in soul-stirring orchestral eloquence and invariably inakes 
 a deep impression. 
 
 For special comment we have selected Tchaikowsky's* Fifth 
 Symphony in E minor since, being a union of Russian and Italian 
 characteristics, it reveals that eclecticism so prominent in his style. 
 It is also an admirable example of organic relationship between the 
 movements. This symphony, like the Fourth, contains a recurrent 
 motto of sombre nature in the minor mode which, appearing in the 
 first three movements with some dramatic impUcation, is changed 
 in the Finale to the major and used as the basis for a march of re- 
 joicing. The first and last movements are in elaborate sonata-form; 
 the second and third in three-part form. The Finale is one of the 
 most striking examples in modern literature of a resume of preceding 
 themes and hence a convincing proof of the composer's constructive 
 power. The symphony begins with a long prelude announcing the 
 motto. Scored for clarinets, bassoons and low strings it shows viv- 
 idly that pecuUar impression which Tchaikowsky secured by using 
 the lower ranges of the orchestra. 
 
 ^ As may be seen by the number of illustrations from it in text books ! 
 
 ' The authoritative work on Tchaikowsky is The Life and Letters by his brother 
 Modeste ; the abridged biography by Rosa Newmarch should also be read. There 
 are excellent essays in Mezzotints in Modern Music by Huneker; in Streatfield's 
 volume Modem Composers and in Mason's From Orieg to Brahms, 
 
Andante 
 
 g^B H — H I H 
 
 NATIONAL SCHOOLS 307 
 
 Fr>- r 
 
 I 
 
 jD pesanie e tenuto sempre, piU forte 
 
 g 4^=g=:^ 
 
 w 
 
 K j X 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 i^^ 
 
 mw=¥f^^ ^^^ 
 
 ^=p= 
 
 i 
 
 =b=^^ 
 
 -^'i-*- 
 
 -'l-S^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 to/ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■<^ ^ 
 
 11 
 
 S 
 
 -q-fr 
 
 ^^-^-i^ 
 
 =^^1 
 
 ^ 
 
 -''=^ 
 
 The melody itseK seldom moves above middle C, and its effect is 
 enhanced by the quality of the clarinets in their chalumeau register. 
 The first theme of the movement proper (beginning at the Allegro 
 con anima), on the same harmonic basis as the motto and derived 
 from it rhythmically, is given out pp by a solo clarinet and solo bas- 
 soon, accompanied by very light detached chords in the strings, e. g. 
 
 Allegro con anima 
 
 ^.f f>^llgrf fMf^ rf>,f f^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 This is elaborately and brilliantly developed until, in measure 79 
 (counting from the Allegro), we reach a transitional, subsidiary theme 
 in B minor. This is followed by some striking sequences, exquisitely 
 
308 
 
 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 scored, and then (at un pochettino piii animato) there is a quickened 
 presentation of the transitional theme, interspersed by syncopated 
 calls — on the horns and wood-wind — a presentation which intro- 
 duces the second theme in D major, marked molto piu tranquiQo. 
 This melody, sung by the violins against an obbligato in the wood- 
 wind, is clearly Italian in its grace and suavity and estabUshes that 
 wonderful contrast so prominent in Tchaikowsky — the warmth 
 and exuberance of the South set against the grim austerity of the 
 North. 
 
 J- 
 
 i 
 
 i 4 Ui 
 
 mm 
 
 |g=^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 iHfi^ 
 
 f>. 
 
 caniabile e espress 
 
 etc. 
 
 I 
 
 rii. 
 
 
 M- 
 
 $zt 
 
 =t=fc 
 
 This theme, expanded (stringendo and crescendo) into a series of ex- 
 citing climaxes fff leads, after some modulatory phrases derived from 
 the transitional theme, to the Development which begins in B-flat 
 major. Throughout this is a fine piece of work — with real thematic 
 growth, bold modulations and no "padding." It should refute com- 
 pletely any erroneous opinion that Tchaikowsky was lacking in power 
 of organic treatment. The connection between the Development 
 and the Recapitulation is skUfully managed and the third part does 
 not bore us but is welcomed as something we would gladly hear again. 
 There is a long and stormy Coda — a second development in true 
 Beethoven style —which finally ends ppp in the lowest depths of 
 the orchestra, in the same mood as the opening measiu-es. 
 
 The second movement. Andante cantabUe, con alcuna licenza, 
 with its melting theme on the solo horn, e. g.. 
 
 dolce con molto espressione 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 
 
 309 
 
 — accompanied later by answering phrases on the clarinet — might 
 seem a bit too "luscious" were it not for the beauty and finish of the 
 orchestration. The movement is in rather loose three-part form — 
 as the title would imply — the joints being somewhat obvious in 
 certain places, e. g., measures 39-45. The themes, however, have 
 that intensity pecuhar to Tchaikowsky, and the original orchestral 
 treatment, especially in the use of the horns, enhances their effect. 
 The middle contrasting portion, starting in F-sharp minor, shows 
 some very effective polyphonic imitations based on the following 
 theme: 
 
 Moderaio con ani ma 
 
 Tr-0 
 
 
 s^ 
 
 -»l-» 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 A 
 
 J- 
 
 » 
 
 etc. 
 
 i 
 
 ^H^ 
 
 C 'V c- 
 
 At the climax of its development the motto is proclaimed JJJ' in a 
 most arresting manner — its effect being due to the unusual pedal 
 point which makes a chord of the second with the upper voices, e. gr. 
 
310 
 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 3 
 
 =*=*: 
 
 ffi=^^ 
 
 ^r ^i~jr-Jrt ¥^ 
 
 i 
 
 5ir^r:±- 
 
 ^4r^4 
 
 r 
 
 /// 
 
 #--- 
 
 iSe 
 
 X! 
 
 
 =1= 
 
 — i— 
 
 -zr 
 
 =r=^ 
 
 »^ 
 
 
 
 — • — 
 
 s- 
 
 4= 
 
 -^=^ 
 
 Ep^^^^ 
 
 
 ^3= 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ *» 
 
 
 =^ 
 
 s,- 
 
 
 
 — &— 
 
 
 The third part with slight expansions corresponds to the first. At 
 its close, just before the Coda, we have a second appearance of the 
 motto — this time, on account of the fierce dissonances, with even 
 more sinister effect.^ The closing measures are of great beauty by 
 reason of the imitations on the strings and the dreamy, reminiscent 
 phrase on the clarinets, e. g. 
 
 P^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 # 
 
 '-^^^^ 
 
 E 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 w 
 
 9^fe: 
 
 ]^aB 
 
 m 
 
 — s— 
 
 f 
 
 -1 - 
 
 a^ 
 
 d id 
 
 »g 
 
 m 
 
 3 
 
 r-^r=,- 
 
 -^rT^S-T 
 
 ^ ? 
 
 -n— =!- 
 
 I 
 
 The third movement, a Waltz, with a graceful theme, in clear-cut 
 three-part form, needs httle comment. If any one considers it too 
 
 ^ The passage has already been cited in Chapter IV as an example of a decep- 
 tive cadence. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 
 
 311 
 
 Kght or even trivial for a place in a symphony he might study the 
 individual orchestration and then try to compose one like it! The 
 second and third parts are ingeniously fused together — Tchaikowsky 
 following the practise of Mozart, his favorite master, in the first 
 movement of the G minor Symphony. In the Russian philosophy 
 of life, however, there is no such thing as perpetual joy; so, even 
 amid scenes of festivity, the motto obtrudes itself as if to ask "What 
 right have you to be dancing when Ufe is so stern and grim?" See 
 measures 23-28 from end of movement. 
 
 fe farJrJ-^Sa aa^J 
 
 -^ *- 
 
 =b= 
 
 I t '' 1 
 
 r — r 
 
 I 
 
 io 
 
 Ma=^ 
 
 i 
 
 -w 
 
 d S -8^ 
 
 * — «- 
 
 PB=^ 
 
 =^=lt 
 
 etc. 
 
 The Finale, in complete sonata-form and laid out on a large scale, 
 for several reasons is of distinct significance. It is a carefully planned 
 resumi of preceding themes; it contains several examples of those 
 periods of depression or exultation (especially on a pedal-point) so 
 characteristic of the Slav, and lastly, there are pages of extreme 
 brilliancy. In fact, the orchestration throughout is of such convinc- 
 ing power that it refutes any charge of sensationalism or mere bom- 
 bast. If to us the music seem unrestrained, unbridled, we are to 
 remember that the Russian temperament is prone to a reckless dis- 
 play of emotion just as in their churches they like to 'lay the colors 
 on thick." The movement begins with an extended prelude in which 
 the original sombre motto is transformed into a stately, march-like 
 theme. This is presented twice with continually richer scoring and 
 more rhythmic animation. The closing measures of the prelude are 
 a specific instance of that protracted mood of depression spoken of 
 above. The movement proper begins at the Allegro vivace with 
 a fierce, impassioned theme, 
 
312 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 
 :i=i! 
 
 i 
 
 -N-=l- 
 
 Je^ 
 
 
 -• ^»i- 
 
 / 
 
 ^ 
 
 --^* e>- 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 =i=4 
 
 p 
 
 • ^ V :t t ^ ^ Ij t^ ^ 
 
 etc. 
 
 m- 
 
 which leads, in measure 25, to a subsidiary theme treated at first 
 in free double counterpointi and later canonically. 
 
 i 
 
 * 
 
 -/J. i; 
 
 jM=^=n=s=s 
 
 S 
 
 P 
 
 n ^n"-^f-^ 
 
 
 u I 
 
 18$ 
 
 # 
 
 l<=^ 
 
 t==t 
 
 ^ 
 
 '"1 P 1 ' y ^^ 
 
 * 
 
 a 
 
 
 ^h 
 
 *f 
 
 -•—=—•-: 
 
 If — =r 
 
 ff 
 
 4:^ 
 
 i 
 
 fcil 
 
 etc. 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 y /? , ^^ - i-^ -i I • -1 i: 
 
 ^ 
 
 M I i 
 
 :5-^- 
 
 :i^ f- ' 
 
 ' By double counterpoint is meant such a grouping of the voices that they may 
 be inverted (the upper voice becoming the lower and vice versa) and sound equally 
 well. For further comments, together with illustrative examples, consult Chapter 
 IX of Spalding's Tonal Counterpoint. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 
 
 313 
 
 k^^^ 
 
 sf I etc. 
 
 ta 
 
 W- 
 
 p 
 
 -=12l^ 
 
 m 
 
 E^^s^^^i^y 
 
 This is developed with more and more animation until the announce- 
 ment, in measure 71, of the second theme in D major. Here we see 
 the first instance of that organic relationship for which the move- 
 ment is noted; for this theme 
 
 is evidently derived by rhythmic modification from that of the pre- 
 ceding slow movement. It is brilliantly expanded and leads directly 
 — there being no double bar and repeat — to the development in 
 measure 115. This part of the movement evades description; it is 
 throughout most eloquent and exciting. In measures 153-160 all 
 the bells of Russia seem to be pealing! With measure 177 begins 
 (marcato largamente) an impressive treatment in the bass of the 
 second theme, answered shortly after in the upper voice. This is 
 developed to a climax which, in turn, is followed by one of those long 
 periods of "cooling down" which prepare us for the Recapitulation 
 
314 
 
 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 ia measure 239. This corresponds exactly with the Exposition, 
 ending with two passages (poco meno mosso and molto vivace), 
 — based upon the rhythm of the motto — which usher in the long, 
 elaborate Coda. This begins, maestoso, with an impressive state- 
 ment of the march theme, scored in brilliant fashion, with rushing 
 figures in the wood-wind instruments. It seems to portray some 
 ceremonial in a vast cathedral with trumpets blaring and banners 
 flying. A stiU more gorgeous treatment (marziale, energico, con 
 tutta forza) leads to the Presto based on the subsidiary theme (cited 
 on page 312), which fairly carries us off our feet. The last portion 
 of the Coda (molto meno mosso) is an animated yet dignified proc- 
 lamation of the main theme of the first movement — the work thus 
 concluding with an unmistakable effect of unity. 
 
 « 
 
 -4 — 4^1 
 
 I 
 
 
 .U, 
 
 =E=t 
 
 5^=^ 
 
 ^ r=^^^ 
 
 iff 
 
 §^^ 
 
 =^ — jg — ^ 
 
 tfiU X '« i 
 
 - X y 
 
 f- c f f f T ^rf f rr-f 
 
 aft 
 
 etc. 
 
 i - ' i -a- 
 
 - s X 
 
 y s 
 
 I 
 
 The subject of Russian music* is too vast for any adequate treat- 
 ment within the limits of a single book, but there are several other 
 composers in addition to Tchaikowsky of such individuaUty and 
 remarkable achievement as to warrant some notice. These men, 
 Balakireff, Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakoff and Moussorgsky, have done 
 for the free expression of the Russian temperament in music what 
 Pushkin, Gogol and Dostoyevsky represent in literature. "To 
 
 ' The most authoritative work in English is the History of Russian Music h^ 
 Montagu-Nathan; in French there are the Essays Musiques de Biussie by Bruaeau. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 315 
 
 understand fully the tendencies of Neo-Russian music, and above 
 all to sympathize with the spirit in which this music is written, the 
 incredible history of Holy Russia, the history of its rulers and people 
 — the mad caprices and horrid deeds of the Romanoffs, who, in cen- 
 turies gone by, surpassed in restless melancholy and atrocity the 
 insane Caesars, and were more to be pitied, as well as detested, than 
 Tiberius or Nero — the nature of the landscape, the waste of steppes, 
 the dreariness of winter, and the loneliness of summer — the barbaric 
 extravagance of aristocratic Ufe — the red tape, extortion, and cruelty 
 of officers — the sublime patience of the common people — the de- 
 votion of the enduring, starving multitude to the Tsar — all this 
 should be as familiar as a twice-told tale. There should also be a 
 knowledge of Russian literature, from the passion of Pushkin and 
 the irony of Gogol, to Turgenieff's tales of life among the serfs, and 
 the novels of Tolstoi, in which mysticism and realism are strangely 
 blended. Inasmuch as Neo-Russian music is founded upon the folk- 
 songs of that country, one should know first of all the conditions that 
 made such songs possible, and one should breathe the atmosphere 
 in which musicians who have used such songs have worked."^ 
 
 The first real leader after the wholesome beginnings made by 
 Glinka (with his operas, A Life for the Czar and Lvdmilla) was Bala- 
 kireff (1837-1910) who finding his country almost entirely under the 
 dominion of Italian and German music, proclaimed the doctrine that 
 Russia, with its wealth of folk-songs and its undoubted emotional 
 power should create its own music. Like many of the Russians Bala- 
 kireff was an amateur, but in the true sense of that term, i. e., he loved 
 music for its own sake. He therefore set to work vigorously to com- 
 bat foreign influences and to manifest in original works a spirit true 
 to his own genius and to the tendencies of his native land. Though 
 educated as a lawyer he had acquired through a study of Mozart, 
 Berlioz and Liszt a thorough technique and so was equipped to put 
 into practise his watchword which was individual liberty. "I be- 
 Heve in the subjective, not in the objective power of music," he said 
 to his pupils. "Objective music may strike us with its brilliancy, 
 but its achievement remains the handiwork of a mediocre talent. 
 Mediocre or merely talanted musicians are eager to produce effects, 
 but the ideal of a genius is to reproduce his very self, in unison with 
 the object of his art. There is no doubt that art requires technique, 
 
 1 Quoted from the chapter on Russian music in Famous Composers and Their 
 Works (2d series) . 
 
316 MUSIC: AN AKT AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 but it must be absolutely unconscious and individual. . . . Often the 
 greatest pieces of art are rather rude technically, but they grip the 
 soul and command attention for intrinsic values. This is apparent 
 in the works of Michelangelo, of Shakespeare, of Turgenieff, and of 
 Mozart. The beauty that fascinates us most is that which is most 
 individual. I regard technique as a necessary but subservient ele- 
 ment. It may, however, become dangerous and kill individuahty 
 as it has done with those favorites of our pubUc, whose virtuosity I 
 despise more than mere crudities." Balakireff's actual works are 
 few in number since he spent most of his time in organizing schools 
 of music and in teaching others; but in those works which we have* 
 there is a strong note of freedom not to be missed. His Symphonic 
 Poem Tamara and his fantasy for pianoforte Islamey are remarkable 
 for that semi-oriental exotic spirit so prevalent in Russian music. 
 Many of his songs also are of genuine beauty. 
 
 Borodin (1834-1887) is the ne plus ultra example of that versatil- 
 ity in which the modern Russian School is unique. As a surgeon 
 and doctor he enjoyed a high position; as a chemist he made original 
 researches and wrote treatises which were recognized as distinct con- 
 tributions to science; he was one of the earliest scholars in the world 
 to advocate that women should have the same education as men and 
 was one of the founders (about 1870) of a medical school for women 
 in Petrograd. So tireless was he in these varied activities, it seems a 
 miracle that he could also become one of the best pianists of his time 
 (he played well also the violin and the flute) and according to Liszt,* 
 one of the most able orchestral masters of the nineteenth century. 
 But as evidence of this amazing fact are his works, comprising two 
 symphonies (the second in B minor often heard in this country) two 
 string quartets, the first strikingly original, thematically, harmoni- 
 cally and in idiomatic use of the instruments; a small Suite for piano- 
 forte, of which the Serenade is cited in the Supplement; an opera, 
 Le Prince Igor — remarkable for its picturesque description and 
 Oriental coloring, of which the composer himself said "Prince Igor 
 is essentially a national opera, which can be of interest only to us 
 Russians who love to refresh our patriotism at the sources of our 
 history and to see the origins of our nationality live again upon the 
 
 ' Towards the end of his life he destroyed many of his compositions. 
 
 ' For a delightful account of the friendship of these two composers consult the 
 volume Borodin and Liszt by Alfred Habets (translated by Rosa Newmarcb) . 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 317 
 
 stage;" a symphonic poem Dans les Steppes de VAsie centrale and 
 — showing some of his most characteristic work — the Paraphrases 
 written in collaboration with KorsakofiE, Liadoff and Cui as a kind 
 of musical joke. This composition,^ a set of twenty-fom- variations 
 founded on the tune popularly known as "chop-sticks" is dedicated 
 "to little pianists capable of executing the theme witli a finger of each 
 hand." For the paraphrases themselves a player of considerable 
 technique is required. In Borodin's style we always find a glowing 
 color-scheme of Slavic and Oriental elements. As a modern Russian 
 composer says, "It is individually descriptive and extremely modern 
 — so modern that the audience of to-day will not be able to grasp 
 all its intrinsic beauties." 
 
 The most widely known and in many respects the most gifted 
 of the Neo-Russian group is Rimsky-KorsakofF (1844-1908). He 
 has been aptly characterized as the Degas or Whistler of music, and 
 for his marvellous powers of description, especially of the sea, and 
 for his command of orchestral tone-painting he is considered the story- 
 teller par excellence in modern music. As in the case of Borodin 
 we are filled with amazement at the power of work and the versatihty 
 in Korsakoff's nature. For many years he was an officer in the 
 Russian navy and throughout his life was involved with official duties. 
 Yet he found time for a number of compositions of originahty and 
 finished workmanship. These comprise the symphonic poems 
 Antar, Sadko and Sckeherezade;^ a Spanish Caprice for full orchestra; 
 twelve operas of which the best known in this country is the fascinat- 
 ing Le Coq d'Or; a concerto for pianoforte and orchestra; a large 
 number of songs and many choruses for men's and women's voices. 
 His treatises on harmony and orchestration are standard works, the 
 latter being the authority in modern treatment of the orchestra. 
 His Scheherezade is undoubtedly the most briUiant descriptive work 
 in modern literature, for an account of which we quote the eloquent 
 words of Philip Hale. 
 
 "Scheherezade (Op. 35) is a suite inspired by the Arabian Nights. 
 The Sultan, persuaded of the falseness and faithlessness of woman, 
 had sworn to put every one of his wives to death in turn after the 
 first night. But Scheherezade saved her life by interesting him in 
 the stories she told him for a thousand and one nights. Many 
 
 ' According to Liszt "a compendium of musical science in the form of a jest." 
 
 ' This work in structure is a Suite, i. e., there are four distinct, separated 
 movements. 
 
318 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 marvels were told by her in Rimsky-Korsakoff's fantastic poem, — 
 marvels and tales of adventm-e: 'The Sea and Sinbad's Ship'; 'The 
 Story of the Three Kalandars' ; 'The Young Prince and the Young 
 Princess'; 'The Festival at Bagdad'; 'The Ship that went to pieces 
 against a rock surmounted by a bronze warrior.' As in BerHoz's 
 Fantastic Symphony, so in this suite, there is a theme which keeps 
 appearing in all four movements. For the most part it is given to 
 a solo violin. It is a free melodic phrase in Oriental bravura, gently 
 ending in a free cadenza. There is no development of themes in 
 this strange work. There is constant repetition in diflPerent tonali- 
 ties; there is an exceedingly skillful blending of timbres; there is a 
 keen sense of possible orchestral effects. A glance at the score shows 
 how sadly the pedagogue might go astray in judgment of the work, 
 without a hearing of it, and furthermore, the imagination of the hearer 
 must be in sympathy with the imagination of the composer, if he 
 would know full enjoyment: for this symphonic poem provokes 
 swooning thoughts, such as come to the partakers of leaves and 
 flowers of hemp; there are the stupefying perfumes of charred frank- 
 incense and grated sandal-root. The music comes to the listener 
 of western birth and mind, as the Malay who knocked among English 
 mountains at De Quincey's door. You learn of Sinbad, the ex- 
 plorer, who is nearer to us than Nansen; of the Kalandar Prince 
 who spent a mad evening with the porter and the three ladies of Bag- 
 dad, and told of his incredible adventures; and Scheherezade, the 
 narrator, she too is merely a shape in a dream; she fades away, and 
 her soul dies on the high note exhaled by the wondering violin. 
 
 "The melody of this Russian is wild, melancholy, exotic; a droning 
 such as falls from the lips of white-bearded, turbaned, venerable men, 
 garrulous in the sun; and then again, there is the reckless chatter of 
 the babbler in the market-place, heated with unmixed wine." 
 
 The most boldly individual of all Russian composers is Moussorg- 
 sky* (1831-1881). Although of intense inspiration and of uncom- 
 promising ideals his musical education was so incomplete that his 
 technique was inadequate for the expression of his message. As the 
 French critic, Arthur Pougin well says, "His works bizarre though 
 they be, formless as they often are, have in them a force of expression 
 and a dramatic accent of which no one can deny the intensity. It 
 would be unjust to pretend that he spoke for the purpose of saying 
 
 ' For biographical information consult the volume by Hontagu-Nathaiv 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 319 
 
 nothing; unfortunately he is too often satisfied with merely stammer- 
 ing." As Moussorgsky himself says: "Att is a means of talking 
 with men; it is not an end. Starting with the principle that human 
 speech is subject to musical laws, I see in music, not only the ex- 
 pression of sentiment by means of sound, but especially the notation 
 of a human language." In fact the dominant idea of his music was 
 to bring it into closer relation with actual life. 
 
 "In order to understand Moussorgsky's work and his attitude 
 towards art, it is necessary to reaUse the social conditions under which 
 he Hved. He was a true child of the sixties, of that period of moral 
 and intellectual ferment which followed the accession of Alexander II 
 and the emancipation of the serfs. Of the little group of composers 
 then striving to give musical expression to their newly awakened 
 nationaKty, none was so entirely carried away by the literary and 
 political movements of the time as Moussorgsky. Every man was 
 asking himself and his comrades the question posed by the most 
 popular novel of the day: 'What shall we do?' The answer was: 
 'Throw aside social and artistic conventions. Make art the hand- 
 maiden of humanity. Seek not for beauty but for truth. Go to 
 the people. Hold out the hand of fellowship to the liberated masses 
 and learn from them the; true purpose of life.' To this democratic 
 and utilitarian spirit, to this deep compassion for the people, to this 
 contempt for the dandyism and dilettantism of an earher generation 
 Moussorgsky strove to give expression in his music, as Perov ex- 
 pressed it in painting, as Tchernichevsky, Dostoievsky, and Tolstoi 
 expressed it in fiction. We may disagree with his aesthetic prin- 
 ciples, but we must confess that he carried out with logical sequence 
 and conviction a considerable portion of his programme. In his 
 sincere efforts to attain great ends he undoubtedly overlooked the 
 means. He could never submit to the discipline of a thorough mu- 
 sical training as Tchaikowsky and Rimsky-Korsakoff. He preserved 
 his originality intact, but at a heavy cost. The weakness of his 
 technique has been exaggerated by those who put down all his pe- 
 culiarities to ignorance; but in some respects — particularly as re- 
 gards orchestration — his craftsmanship was certainly unequal to 
 the demands of his inspiration, for his aims were very lofty. Had 
 this been otherwise, Moussorgsky's name would have been more 
 closely linked with those of Berlioz and Richard Strauss."' 
 
 ' Quoted from the article in Grove's Dictionary. 
 
320 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 His acknowledged masterpieces are first, the songs, especially 
 the series the Nursery and the Songs and Dances of Death, in which 
 we see mirrored with extraordinary fidelity the complex nature of 
 the Russian people. Rosa Newmarch has called him the Juvenal 
 of musicians. Second, his national music drama, Boris Godounqff — 
 dealing with one of the most sensational episodes in Russian history 
 — which, for the gripping vividness of its descriptions, is quite un- 
 paralleled. 
 
 "Boris Godounoff, finished in 1870, was performed four years 
 later in the Imperial Opera House. The libretto of this opera he 
 took from the poetic drama of Pushkin, but he changed it, elimina- 
 ting much and adding new scenes here and there, so that as a whole 
 it is his own creation. In this work Moussorgsky went against the 
 foreign classic opera in conception as well as in construction. It 
 is a typically Russian music-drama, with aU the richness of Slavic 
 colors, true Byzantine atmosphere and characters of the medieval 
 ages. Based on Russian history of about the middle of the seven- 
 teenth century, when an adventurous regent ascends the throne and 
 when the court is full of intrigues, its theme stands apart from all 
 other operas. The music is more or less, Uke many of Moussorgsky's 
 songs, written in imitation of the old folk-songs, folk dances, cere- 
 monial chants, and festival tunes. Foreign critics have considered 
 the opera as a piece constructed of folk melodies. But this is not 
 the case. There is not a single folk melody in Boris Godounoff, 
 every phrase is the original creation of Moussorgsky."^ 
 
 ; In concluding this account of Russian music let the statement 
 be repeated that only by a thorough knowledge of the life and charac- 
 ter of this strange yet gifted people can their music be understood. 
 It is necessary therefore to become acquainted with Russian Utera- 
 ture and pictorial art — with the works of Gogol, Tolstoi and Dos- 
 toyevsky and the paintings of Perov and Veretschagin. In this 
 way only will be made clear what is otherwise inexplicable — the 
 depth and sincerity of the Russian soul. 
 
 The other two prominent national schools in modern times are 
 the Bohemian and Scandinavian. Although from neither of these 
 have we products at all comparable in breadth or depth of meaning 
 with those of the Russian school, yet each has its note of exotic indi- 
 viduahty and hence deserves recognition. The Bohemian School 
 
 ' Quoted from the Art of Music, Vol. III. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 
 
 321 
 
 centres about the achievements of Fibich, Smetana' and Dvorak, 
 and its prevalent characteristics are the variety of dance rhythms 
 (Bohemia having no less than forty national dances) together with 
 the peculiarly novel harmonic and modulatory scheme. The dances 
 best known outside of Bohemia are the Polka? and the Furiant; the 
 former being used so frequently by Smetana and Dvorak that it has 
 attained an international status. The first of the above group, 
 Fibich (1850-1900), was a composer of marked versatility — there 
 being extant over seven hundred works in every form — and no 
 httle originality. Many of his pianoforte pieces have distinct charm 
 and atmosphere and should be better known. Fibich was strongly 
 influenced by Schumann, and there is found in his music the same 
 note of fantastic freedom prominent in the German master. But 
 the first impression of Bohemian music upon the world in general 
 was made by Smetana (1824r-1884). An ardent follower of Liszt, 
 he definitely succeeded in the incorporation of Bohemian traits with 
 the ciurent musical idiom just as Liszt had done with Hungarian 
 folk-music. Smetana' s style is thoroughly original, his form is free 
 yet coherent and he has a color sense and power of orchestral descrip- 
 tion pecuhar to his race. Bohemia is one of the most picturesque 
 countries in the world and the spirit of its woodlands, streams and 
 mountains is always plainly felt in Bohemian music. The Bohemians 
 are an out-of-door people with an inborn instinct for music (with its 
 basic factors of rhythm and sound) by which they express the vigor- 
 ous exuberance of their temperament.' Smetana's significant work 
 
 ' His surname is to be accented on the first syllable — a fact which may be re- 
 membered from the story attributed to Liszt who, once asking Smetana how his 
 name was to be pronounced received this reply : My name is always 
 
 Overture to Fidelia 
 
 but never 
 
 ta - na, 
 
 8m^ - ta - na, 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Sm6 ta - na 
 
 Overture to Zeonora, No. 3 
 
 m 
 
 gtezao:^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Fried-rich Sme-tA - na ' ' Fried-rich Sme-t4 - na. 
 
 ' For example in the second movement of Smetana's Quartet and in Dvorak's 
 Suite for small orchestra, op. 39. 
 
 ' For a graphic description of the country and the customs of its people consult 
 the essay on DvoJdk in Hadow's Studies in Modern Music. 
 
322 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 lies in his numerous operas, his symphonic poems and in the remark- 
 able String Quartet in E minor entitled "Aus meinem Leben." The 
 operas deal with subjects so strongly national that they can have 
 but little vogue outside their own country. However, Prodana 
 Nevesta — the Bartered Bride — has been universally recognized as 
 one of the genuine comic operas in modern times and its spirited 
 Overture (the first theme on a fugal basis) is played the world over. 
 His six Symphonic Poems, comprised under the title Mein Vaterland, 
 are works of considerable power and brilliant orchestral treatment. 
 Perhaps the finest sections are Vltava (Moldau), celebrating the beau- 
 ties of Bohemia's sacred river, and Vysehrad, a realistic description 
 of the national fortress at Prague.' The Quartet in E minor, noted 
 for its freedom and intimacy of style, has become a classic. Wheh- 
 ever it was performed Smetana wished the sub-title "Aus Meinem 
 Leben" to be printed on the program; for, as he says in a letter to a 
 friend, "My quartet is no mere juggling with tones; instead I have 
 wished to present the hearer with pictures of my life. I have studied 
 theory; I know what style means and I am master of it. But I 
 prefer to have circumstances determine form and so have written 
 this quartet in the form which it itself demanded." In the first 
 and last of the four movements there is a long sustained high E, 
 symbohc of the buzzing sound which the composer constantly heard 
 as his , congenital deafness increased. This malady finally affected 
 his mind and was the cause of his tragic death in an asylum at Prague. 
 Although in some respects not so characteristic as Smetana, 
 Dvorak^ (1841-1904), by reason of his greater breadth and more cos- 
 mopoUtan style, is considered the representative Bohemian composer. 
 Dvorak's music in its simpUcity and in its spontaneity of treatment 
 is a reincarnation of Schubert's spirit; we feel the same overflowing 
 musical life and we must make the same allowances for looseness of 
 structure. Dvorak, however, has made one contribution thoroughly 
 his own — his skill in handling the orchestra. He was a bom 
 colorist and his scores in their clarity, in the subtle distinctions 
 between richness and delicacy, are recognized masterpieces. As a 
 sensuous delight to the ear they may be compared to the fine glow 
 of certain Dutch canvases — those for example of Vermeer. Dvorak's 
 
 ' A detailed account of these works may be found in the article on Smetana in 
 
 Famous Composers and their Works (2d series). 
 
 ' For his biography, consult the Hadow essay (referred to above) and the 
 chapter on Dvordk in Mason's From Grieg to Brahms. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 
 
 323 
 
 compositions are varied and fairly numerous (some 111 opus 
 numbers) comprising operas, cantatas, chamber music, sym- 
 phonies, overtures, pianoforte pieces and songs. From 1892 to 1895 
 he was in this country as director of the National Conservatory in 
 New York. Three works composed during this period, a Quartet, 
 a Quintet and The New World Symphony, are of special interest to 
 us since they were meant as a compliment to the possibihties of 
 American music and also reflect Dvorak's attitude toward the sources 
 of musical inspiration. A true child of the people, and the embodi- 
 ment of ftolk-music, he naturally searched for native material when 
 he wished to compose something characteristically American. But 
 folk-music in our country, as has been stated in Chapter II, is (or 
 was at Dvorak's time) practically limited to that of the Indians and 
 the Negroes. It is often stated, in fact, that the New World Sym- 
 phony is founded upon Negro tunes. This, however, is a sweeping 
 assertion. There is no doubt that Dvorak found a strong aflBnity 
 between certain of the Southern plantation melodies and the songs 
 of his native land, e. g., the following melody (the second theme of 
 the first movement) which is similar to "Swing low, sweet chariot." 
 
 i 
 
 Flute 
 
 ±^4: 
 
 
 P33 
 
 ■•—1^ 
 
 r 
 
 - ^' — -J 
 
 
 f> 
 
 t. 
 
 ■^- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^m 
 
 V^- 
 
 — r— cr -g 
 
 r 
 
 But the individual tone of the melodies could come only from a 
 Bohemian and if they seem both Negro and Bohemian it simply 
 proves the common bond existing in all folk-music.^ This New 
 World Symphony has had a great vogue and by reason of the warmth 
 of its melodies and the rich, colorful scoring is indisputably a work 
 full of charm.^ Two prevalent traits of Dvorak's music are noticeable 
 in this symphony — the unexpectedness of the modulations and the 
 
 ' The author has heard this symphony played in Prague and other continental 
 cities under Bohemian conductors. It is always welcomed as being thoroughly 
 characteristic of Bohemia. 
 
 2 For detailed analytical comment consult Vol. Ill of Short Studies in Oreat 
 Masterpieces by D. G. Mason. 
 
324 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 unusual harmonic scheme.' The structure is at times rather loose, 
 particularly in the Finale where the joints often crack wide open. 
 But, as an offset, there is great rhythmic vitality — observe in par- 
 ticular the swing of the Trio from the Scherzo — and that sensuous 
 tone-color peculiar to the composer. In fact, the scoring of the slow 
 movement with its magical theme for English horn would alone com- 
 pensate for many structural blemishes. This movement closes 
 with a mysterious chord for divided double basses (four solo instru- 
 ments) which is one of many touches in individual treatment. The 
 Finale, in accordance with modern practise, although containing 
 themes of its own, finally becomes a resumi of preceding material. 
 The two main themes are striking and well contrasted; but Dvorak 
 was a mediocre architect and the movement, in comparison with 
 the Finales of Franck and Tchaikowsky, is more of a potpourri than 
 a firmly knit organic whole. The final page is stimulating in its 
 bold use of dissonances. But we must take Dvorak as he is. There 
 is no question of his genius, for his music is spontaneous, never 
 labored, and he has expressed with convincing artistic skill the emo- 
 tions and ideals of his gifted race. 
 
 Scandinavian music, ethnologically considered, would comprise 
 that of the three related nations, the Swedes, the Danes and the 
 Norwegians; some would include even the Finns, with their eloquent 
 spokesman SibeUus. Although the Danes have considerable folk- 
 music, and as a people love mu?ic, they have produced no composer 
 of distinction save Niels Gade (1817-1890), who was so encrusted 
 with German habits of thought that his music is neither one thing 
 or the other — certainly it is not characteristically Danish. The 
 best known of the Swedish composers is Sjogren from whom we have 
 some poetic songs. He also attempted the larger instrumental forms 
 but without notable success. 
 
 Scandinavian music, as far as the outside world is concerned, 
 practically centres about the Norwegian composer Grieg^ (1843-1907) 
 just as its dramatid art centres about Ibsen. The names, however, 
 of four other Norwegian composers deserve mention: the pioneers 
 Kjerulf (1815-1868) noted for his melodious songs; Svendsen (1840- 
 1911) endowed with a fine sense for orchestral color; and Nordraak 
 (1842-1866) the first self-conscious representative of the Norwegian 
 ' Note'for example the chords at the opening of the slow movement. 
 
 ' The best biography in English is that by H. T. Finck; the work, however, is 
 somewhat marred by fulsome praise. 
 
NATIONAL SCHOOLS 325 
 
 spirit: a talented musician who exerted a marked influence upon 
 Grieg — Ms promise cut short by an early death. In modern times 
 the mantle of Grieg has fallen upon Sinding (1856-still living) whose 
 songs and poetic pieces for the pianoforte have become household 
 favorites. In Norwegian music we find the exuberant rhythmic 
 vitality typical of a people Uving in the bold and highly colored 
 scenery of that sun-Ut land.' Grieg, a born lyric poet saturated 
 with folk-music, has embodied this spirit in his works. His fame 
 rests upon his songs and descriptive pianoforte pieces; though in his 
 Pianoforte Concerto, in his Peer Gynt Suite, in the Violin Sonatas 
 and String Quartet he proved that he was not lacking in power to 
 handle larger forms. But most of his work is in miniature — the 
 expression, like the music of Schubert and Chopin,^ of moods short 
 and intense. While Grieg's music is patterned upon Norwegian folk- 
 dances and folk-melodies it is something far more. He has evoked from 
 the characteristics of his native land a bold, original harmony and a 
 power of color and description thoroughly his own. He might say 
 with de Musset "Mon verre n'est pas grand, mais je bois dans mon 
 verre." In his music we feel the sparkling sunshine and the breezes 
 of the North. In fact, Grieg was the first popular impressionist and 
 for his influence in hxunanizing music and freeing it from academic 
 routine his fame wiU endure. We have cited in the Supplement 
 (Nos. 68, 69) one of his most original songs — the melody of which 
 was used also for the work Im Fruhling for string orchestra — and 
 a pianoforte piece which illustrates his rhythmic life and also in cer- 
 tain measures that melodic line typical of all Norwegian music: the 
 descent from the leading tone, i. e., G, F-sharp, D. 
 
 For a complete appreciation therefore of national music, we must 
 always take into consideration the traits and environment of the 
 people from which it sprung. Music, to be sure, is a universal lan- 
 guage, but each nation has used this language in its own way. The 
 most striking fact in present-day music is the variety gained from 
 a free expression of nationalism^ without infringing upon universality 
 of appeal. 
 
 ' During the summer solstice it is dark for only a few hours ; and further north, 
 in the land, so-called, of the Midnight Sun, for a few weeks there is perpetual 
 daylight. 
 
 2 He was called by Biilow the Chopin of the North. 
 
 ' An admirable treatment of the whole subject may be found in Vol. Ill of the 
 The Art of Mzisic. 
 
326 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE VARIED TENDENCIES OF MODERN MUSIC 
 
 MODERN music — broadly speaking, music since the begin- 
 ning of the twentieth century — is certainly m.anifesting the 
 characteristics which the preceding survey has shown to be inherent 
 in its nature: that is, it has grown by a course of free experimenta- 
 tion, it is the youngest of the arts, and it is a human language as 
 well as a fine art. Hence we find that modern composers are making 
 daring experiments in dissonance, in rhythmic variety, in subtle 
 blends of color and, above all, in the treatment of the orchestra. 
 In comparison with achievements in the other arts music often seems 
 in its infancy; being limited by no practical or utilitarian considera- 
 tions, and employing the boundless possibilities of sound and rhythm, 
 there is so much still before it. The truth contained in the saying, 
 that music is the youngest as well as the oldest of the arts, becomes 
 more apparent year by year; for although a work which originally 
 had imaginative Ufe can never die, yet many former works have 
 passed out of recognition simply because they have been superseded 
 by more inspired ones, composed since their day. We can no longer 
 listen with whole-hearted enthusiasm to many of the older sympho- 
 nies, songs and pianoforte pieces, because Brahms, Franck, Debussy 
 and d'Indy have given us better ones. 
 
 These experiments, just referred to, have been particularly nota- 
 ble on the part of two composers of the neo-Russian group, Stra- 
 vinsky and Scryabin., Stravinsky, "^ in his brilliant pantomine bal- 
 lets, L'Oiseau du Feu, Petroushka, and Le Sacre du Printemps, has 
 proved incontestably that he is a genius — it being of the essence 
 of genius to create something absolutely new. These works, in their 
 expressive melody, harmonic originality and picturesque orchestra- 
 tion, have widened the bounds of musical characterization. Scryabin" 
 
 ' For a detailed account of his life and works consult the essay in Contempo- 
 rary Russian Composers by Montagu-Nathan and Vol. Ill of The Art of Music. 
 
 2 For a comprehensive estimate of his style and achievements the following 
 works will prove useful: the Biography, by Eaglefield Hull; the Essay, by 
 Montagu-Nathan in the volume referred to, and an article by W. H. Hadow in the 
 Musical Quarterly for Jan. 1916. 
 
THE VAKIED TENDENCIES OF MODERN MUSIC 327 
 
 (1871-1915) is noted for his esoteric harmonic scheme, shown in a 
 series of pianoforte preludes, sonatas and, above all, in his orchestral 
 works, the Dimne Poem, the Poem of Ecstacy and Prometheus or 
 Poem of Fire. The efiFect of Scryabin's harmonies is one of great 
 power, and, as previously said of Debussy in his e^rUer days, his 
 imagination has undoubtedly heard sounds hitherto unrealized. 
 The sensational style of Prometheus is augmented by the use of a 
 color machine which flashes upon a screen hues supposed to supple- 
 ment the various moods of the music. How many of these experi- 
 ments will be incorporated into the accepted idiom of music, time 
 alone will tell; but they prove conclusively that modern music is 
 thoroughly awake and is proving true to that spirit of freedom 
 which is the breath of its being. 
 
 Music is, furthermore, not only a fine art in which have worked 
 and are working some of the best intellects of our race, but is inevi- 
 tably becoming a universal language. We see this clearly in the 
 rapid growth of music among peoples and nations which, compara- 
 tively a short time ago, were thought to be quite outside the pale 
 of modern artistic development. No longer is music confined ex- 
 clusively to the Italians, French and Germans. A national spokes- 
 man for the Finns is the gifted SibeUus, the composer of five sym- 
 phonies, several Symphonic poems, numerous songs and pianoforte 
 pieces; his second Symphony in E minor being a work of haunting 
 beauty, and the Fourth noted for its bold use of the dissonant ele- 
 ment. The Roumanians have come to the fore in Enesco, who has 
 written several characteristic works for orchestra. The Spaniards 
 are endeavoring to restore their former glories — for we must not 
 forget that, in past cesnturies, the Spanish composers Morales and 
 Vittoria ranked with the great painters which that nation has pro- 
 duced. Three Spanish composers, indeed, are worthy of distinct 
 recognition: Albeniz for his pianoforte pieces, tangos, malaguenas, 
 etc., in which there is such a fascinating treatment of national dance 
 rhythms; Granados,' with several operas to his credit, and Laparra, 
 the composer of a fantastic suite recently played by the Boston 
 Symphony Orchestra. Spanish rhythms, melodies and local color 
 have been frequently incorporated in the works of other composers, 
 e.g., by Bizet in Carman, by Debussy in Iberia, and in the pianoforte 
 piece Soiree dans Granade, by Chabrier in Espaiia, by Lalo in several 
 works, and by the Russians, Glinka and Rimsky-Korsakoff, in 
 • Who lost his life on the Sussex when it was torpedoed hy the Germans. 
 
328 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 brilliant orchestral works. The Spanish influence,' in fact, may be 
 called one of the most potent in modern music. 
 
 Although there is no doubt of the strong musical instinct inherent 
 in the Hungarians — witness the prevalence of Hungarian rhythms 
 in Schubert, Liszt, Brahms and others — their country has always 
 been so torn with political dissensions that the lack of a national 
 artistic culture is not to be wondered at. Recently however three 
 Hungarian composers, Dohndnyi, Moor and B61a Bartok, have pro- 
 duced works embodying racial tendencies and yet of such significant 
 content and sound workmanship as to attract the attention of the 
 wprld outside. 
 
 Italy, also, is awakening from a long sleep, and there is now a 
 group of young men representing New Italy (of whom Malipiero 
 and Casella are the best known) which should accomplish results 
 worthy of the glorious musical traditions of that country, 
 
 England is shaking off her subserviency* to the influence of Handel 
 and Mendelssohn, and at last has made a promising start toward 
 the achievement of works which shall rank with her glories In poetry, 
 in fiction and in painting. Among theolder group we have such names 
 as Sullivan, with his inimitable series of operas, the Mikado, Gondoliers, 
 lolanthe, etc.; Parry, with some notable choral works, and Stanford 
 — a most versatile man — Irish by birth, and with the humor and 
 spontaneity natural to his race; his Irish Symphony and his opera 
 Shamus O'Brien would give lustre to any period. The only genius 
 of the first rank however which England has produced since the days 
 of Purcell is Edward Elgar (1857-still living). Practically self- 
 educated and spending his early life in his native country he escaped 
 the influences of German training which so deadened the efforts of 
 former composers, such as Pierson and Bennett. Elgar's music is 
 thoroughly English in its sturdy vigor* and wholesome emotion. 
 With something first-hand to say he has acquired such a technique 
 in musical expression that his compositions rank in workmanship 
 with those of the great continental masters. In his use of the modern 
 orchestra Elgar need be considered second to none. His overtures 
 
 ' For a comprehensive account, histxirical and critical, of this influence: consult 
 the Volume by Carl Van Vechten The Music of Spain. 
 
 ' Some pithy remarks on the habitual English attitude toward music' inay be 
 found in the history of Stanford and Forsyth, page 313, aeq. 
 
 ' See for example the broad theme in the middle portion of the March, PoDip 
 and Circumstanee. 
 
THE VARIED TENDENCIES OF MODERN MUSIC 329 
 
 In the South and Cockaigne, his two Symphonies and his Enigma 
 Variations are universally acknowledged to be models of richly- 
 colored and varied scoring. Although his music is English it is 
 never parochial but has that flote of universal import always found 
 in the work of a real genius. Among the younger men there are 
 Wallace, both composer and writer on musical subjects (his Threshold 
 of music being particularly stimulating), Holbrook, Vaughan Williams, 
 Roger Quilter, Arthur Hinton, Balfour Gardiner and John Ireland, 
 a composer of genuine individuaUty, as is evident from his Violin 
 Sonata in D Minor. 
 
 Even such outlying parts of the world as Australia and South 
 America have contributed executive artists of great ability though, 
 to our knowledge, as yet no composer. 
 
 What, now, in this connection can be said of America? This 
 much at least: when we consider that, beyond the most rudimentary 
 attempts, music in our land is not yet a century old, a start has been 
 made which promises great things. Such pioneers as Paine,[Chadwick, 
 MacDowell, Foote, Parker, Osgood, Whiting and Mrs. H. H. A. 
 Beach have written works, often in the larger forms, showing genuine 
 inspiration and fine workmanship, many of which have won permanent 
 recognition outside of their own country. Of late years a younger 
 group has arisen, the chief members^ of which are Converse, Carpenter, 
 Gilbert, Hadley, Hill, Mason, Atherton, Stanley Smith, Brockway, 
 Blair Fairchild, Heilman, Shepherd, Clapp, John Powell, Margaret 
 Ruthven Lang, Gena Branscombe and Mabel Daniels. These com- 
 posers all have strong natural gifts, have been broadly educated, and, 
 above all, in their music is reflected a freedom, a humor and an individ- 
 uaHty which may fairly be called American; that is, it is not music 
 which slavishly follows the "made-in-Germany" model.^ The com- 
 poser of greatest genius and scope in America is undoubtedly Charles 
 Martin Loeffler; but, although he has become a loyal American, 
 and although his best works have been composed in this country, 
 we can hardly claim him as an American composer, for his music 
 vividly reflects French taste and ideals. His inspired works — in 
 particular La Mori de TintagUes, The Pagan Poem and a Symphony 
 (in one movement) — are of peculiar importance for their connection 
 
 ' This valuation of American composers is made solely on the basis of published 
 compositions. 
 
 ' For additional comments on this point see an article by the author in the 
 Musical Quarterly for January, 1918. 
 
330 MUSIC: AN ART AND A LANGUAGE 
 
 with works of literature and for consummate power in orchestration. 
 Not e"^en Debussy has expressed more subtly the tragic spirit of 
 Maeterlinck than has Loeffler in La Mort de Tintagiles; and The 
 Pagan Poem, founded on an Eclogue of Virgil portrays most elo- 
 quently the romance of those pastoral days. Loeffler's latest work, 
 a String Quartet^ dedicated to the memory of Victor Chapman, 
 the Harvard aviator, is remarkable for the heart-felt beauty of its 
 themes and for advanced technique in treating the four solo instru- 
 ments. 
 
 Let us now indulge in a few closing remarks of advice to the young 
 student faced with all this perplexing novelty. Our studies should 
 have made plain two definite facts: first, that the real message of 
 music is contained in its melody — that part of the fabric which we 
 can carry with us and sing to ourselves. Harmony and color are 
 factors closely involved with melodic inspiration, but their impression 
 is more fleeting; and in general, no work lacking in melody, however 
 colorful or fiUed with daring harmonic effects, can long endure. 
 But we must be judicious and fair in estimating exactly what con- 
 stitutes a real melody. The genius is always ahead of his time; if he 
 thought just as other men, he would be no genius. New types of 
 melody are continually being worked out; all we can say is that the 
 creative composer hears sounds in his imagination, the result of his 
 emotional and spiritual experiences and of his sympathy with the 
 world. He recreates these sounds in terms of notation, hoping that, 
 as they mean so much to him, they may be a deUght and inspiration 
 to his fellowmen. If enough people Hke these works for a long enough 
 time, they are; that is, they live — no matter how much they differ 
 from a priori standards as to what music should be. 
 
 The second fact concerns the structure of music; that is, the way 
 in which the thought is presented. We have seen that music always 
 has a carefully planned architecture — that being necessary by reason 
 of the indefiniteness of the material. But let us always remember 
 that without abandoning the fundamental principles of all organic 
 life, form may be — and should be — free and elastic. Every work 
 which lives reveals a perfect balance between the emotional and 
 imaginative factors and their logical presentation. If we are puzzled 
 by the structure of a new work the assumption should be, not that 
 it is formless but that, when we know the work, it will be seen to 
 employ simply a new use of old and accepted principles; for the works 
 
 ' Performed recently several times by the Flonzaley Quartet. 
 
THE VARIED TENDENCIES OF MODERN MUSIC 331 
 
 . analyzed must have convinced us that the principles of unity, con- 
 trast, balance and symmetry are eternal; and, however modified, 
 can never be abandoned. The normal imagination must express 
 itself logically, and can no more put forth incoherent works than 
 the human body would give birth to misshapen offspring. Musical 
 compositions, which after study prove to be incoherent, diffuse and 
 flabby, are to be considered exceptional and not worth condemning; 
 they are only to be pitied. The chief aim of the music-lover should 
 be to become an inteUigent and enthusiastic appreciator of the great 
 works already composed, and to train himself liberally for the wel- 
 come of new works. Towards such an end we hope that this book 
 may ofEer a helpful contribution. 
 
Index 
 
 A 
 
 Academic Overture of Braluns, 233. 
 
 Aeolian mode, 24. 
 
 Aeschylus, compared with Brahms, 239. 
 
 Albeniz, pianoforte pieces, 327. 
 
 answer (to a fugue), 42. 
 
 Apthorp, W. F., comments on Brahms, 
 238; eulogy on Brahms's First Sym- 
 phony, 246; comments on Istar, 283. 
 
 arabesque, S3. 
 
 Aristophanes, his humor compared with 
 Beethoven's, 150. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, lines on Byron apropos 
 of Berlioz, 203; stanza applicable to 
 Brahms, 233; definition of style, 234. 
 
 Atherton, Percy Lee, 329. 
 
 Auber, 255. 
 
 augmentation, definition of, 44. 
 
 Babbitt, Irving, book on Romanticism, 
 161; The New Laocoon, 207. 
 
 Bach, Emmanuel, use of two themes, 93; 
 contributions to the Sonata-form, 100. 
 
 Bach, J. S., WeW-tempered Clavichord, 23; 
 choral (Phrygian mode), 25; poly- 
 phonic style, 34; Goldberg Variations, 
 37; celebrated organ fugues, 41; 
 analysis of Fugue in E-flat major, 
 ii~4S. 
 
 Bagatelles, of Beethoven, 166. 
 
 Balakireff, works and features of style, 
 315-316. 
 
 Baldensperger, F., eulogy of Franck, 258. 
 
 Ballet music to Prometheus, 140. 
 
 Balzac, comment on Chopin, 189. 
 
 Barcarolle, of Chopin, color effect there- 
 in, 193; analysis of, 200-201. 
 
 Bartered Bride Overture, 121, 322. 
 
 basso ostinato, 86. 
 
 Baudelaire, 293. 
 
 Beach, Mrs., Menuel Italien, 78; 329. 
 
 Beethoven, '2, 5, 8; motive of Fifth 
 Symphony, 12; Waldstein Sonata, 15 
 String Quartet (Lydian mode), 26 
 fugal passages in symphonies, 41 
 sentences from sonatas, 58-61; Egrrumt 
 Overture, 77; Rondo Capriccio, 82; sets 
 
 of Variations, 88; biography, 122-126; 
 love of Nature, 125; features of style, 
 126-129; development of the Sonatar 
 fonn, 126-127; treatment of the Coda, 
 127; variety of rhythm, 127-128; use 
 of dissonances, 128; humor, 128-129; 
 development of Program music, 129; 
 development of varied air, 129; char- 
 acterization of the Symphonies, 130- 
 132; estimate of the Pianoforte 
 Sonatas, 140; pianistic effect in 
 Sonatas, 145; as a programmistic 
 composer, 153-154; quality of themes, 
 156; dramatic use of single notes, 156- 
 157; theme of Ninth Symphony com- 
 pared with theme from Brahms's 
 First Symphony, 247. 
 
 Baa Bartok, 328. 
 
 Berlioz, quotation from Grotesques de la 
 Musique, 21; canon in Camaval 
 Remain Overture, 37, comment on 
 Trio of Fifth Symphony, 150; biog- 
 raphy, 202-205; names of his Parisian 
 friends, 204; features of style, 205- 
 206; Fantastic Symphony, analysis of, 
 207—211; Camaval Romain Overture, 
 analysis of, 211-212; Damnation of 
 Faust, instrumental numbers from, 
 213-214; Harold in Italy Symphony, 
 analysis of, 214-215; Romeo and 
 Jtdiet Symphony, comments on, 215- 
 216. 
 
 Bie, Oscar, 74; on the style of Couperin 
 and Rameau, 152. 
 
 Bizet, L'Arlesienne Suites, 80. 
 
 Bohemian School, 320-321. 
 
 Boieldieu, comment on Beethoven, 134; 
 255. 
 
 bolero, 75. 
 
 Boris Godounoff, description of, 320. 
 
 Borodin, works and features of style, 
 316-317. 
 
 Boschot, work, in three parts, on Berlioz, 
 207. 
 
 bourree, 75. 
 
 Brahms, First Symphony, 8, 14, 21, 44; 
 modal expression in works, 23; Fourth 
 Symphony (Phrygian mode), 25; can- 
 onic style, 36; C minor Trio, 67; sets 
 of variations, 88; biography, 231-233; 
 
 333 
 
334 
 
 INDEX 
 
 features of style, 233-238; analysis 
 of First Symphony, 239-249; of Violin 
 Sonata, 250-252; of minm Ballade for 
 Pianoforte, 252-253; attitude toward 
 program music, 253; the nature of his 
 Intermezzi, 253; of the Capriccios, 253; 
 his Rhapsodies, 254; analysis of song 
 Meine Liebe ist griin, 254; other songs, 
 255. 
 
 branle (brawl), 75. 
 
 Branscombe, Gena, 329. 
 
 Brenet, M., Life of Haydn, 104. 
 
 Brockway, H., on American folk-songs, 
 33; 329. 
 
 Browning, 1; quotation apropos of the 
 fugue, 49; quotations apropos of the 
 F^th Symphony, 146; 150. 
 
 Bruckner, movement from Seventh 
 Symphony, 231. 
 
 Bruneau, History of Russian Music, 314. 
 
 Bull, John, 79, 85. 
 
 Biilow, Sonatas of E. Bach, 100; com- 
 ment on Grieg, 325. 
 
 Bin-ney, on the 18th Century, 103. 
 
 Buxtehude, 34. 
 
 Byrd, William, 12, 79, 85. 
 
 Byron, influence on Schumann's style, 
 177. 
 
 C minor Symphony (Beethoven), analysis 
 
 of, 146-151; 
 C minor Symphony (Brahms), analysis 
 
 of, 239-249. 
 cadences, 55-57. 
 Calvacoressi, on dominant relationship, 
 
 62. 
 canon, 11; account of, 36-37. 
 canzona, 69. 
 Camavcd Romain Overtiu-e, analysis of, 
 
 211-212. 
 Carpenter, John Alden, Adventures in a 
 
 Perambulator, 80; 329. 
 Casella, 328. 
 Casse-Noisette Suite, 80. 
 Cellini, Benvenuto, compared with Ber- 
 lioz, 202; opera by Berlioz, 211. 
 Chabrier, Bourrie Fantasque, 80, 297; 
 
 Espaha, 80, 297; Overture to Cfwendo- 
 
 line, 99, 297; account of style, 297. 
 chaeonne, 86; Bach's for violin solo, 87. 
 Chadwick, Canonic Studies, 36; fugal 
 
 passage in Vagrom Ballad, 41; 329. 
 Chamisso, texts for Schumann's songs, 
 
 170. 
 Chantavoine, Life of Beethoven, 159. 
 Charpentier, Impressions of Italy, 80. 
 Chausson, Ernest, account of style, 298. 
 Chavannes, Puvis de, compared with 
 
 Franck, 268. 
 
 (JJhopm, type of melody, 10; 21; Sonata 
 in C minor, 67; biography and features 
 of style, 188-189; analysis of Prelude 
 in C major, 198; Etude in A-flat major, 
 199; Mazurka in F-sharp minor, 199; 
 analysis of Polonaise in E-fM minor, 
 200; of fiarcaroZfe, 200-201; ot Scherzo 
 in C-sharp minor, 201. 
 
 chromatic changes, 51. 
 
 Clapp, P. G., 48, 329. 
 
 coda, definition and examples of, 99. 
 
 color, in different keys, 51. 
 
 Combarieu, Jules, 2. 
 
 Converse, F. S., Dramatic , Poem, Job 
 (Phrygian mode) 26; String Quartet, 
 99; 329. 
 
 Corelli, 70, 74. 
 
 Coriolanus Overture, analysis of, 162-166. 
 
 coimterpoint, definition of, 11. 
 
 counter-subject (of a fugue), 42. 
 
 Couperin, 70, '74, 81, 85; descriptive 
 pieces, 162; 255. 
 
 courante (corrente), 75. 
 
 Croatian Folk-songs (in Haydn), 101- 
 102. 
 
 csdrdds, 76. 
 
 D 
 
 D major Sonata of Beethoven, analysis 
 of, 140-145. 
 
 D Minor Symphony of Schumann, 179- 
 184. 
 
 d' Albert, Suite for Pianoforte, 78. 
 
 Damnation of Faust, instrumental num- 
 bers from, 213-214. 
 
 Daniels, Mabel, 329. 
 
 Dannreuther, eulogy on Beethoven, 159; 
 comment on Berlioz's coimterpoint, 
 209. 
 
 Dargomijsky, use of whole-tone scale, 
 289. 
 
 Debussy, modal expression in works, 23, 
 288-289; PelUas et MMisande (Dorian 
 mode), 24; comments upon, 294; 
 Minstrels (cadence in), 56—66; Sara- 
 bande for pianoforte, 77; comment on 
 development, 97; compared with 
 Mendelssohn, 185; apropos of new 
 music, 204; features of style, 287- 
 297; whole-tone scale, 289-290; titles 
 of pianoforte pieces, 292—293; on his 
 pianoforte style, 295-296. 
 
 de Musset, quotation apropos of Grieg, 
 325. 
 
 deceptive cadence, 56. 
 
 Dent, E. J., Mozart's Operas, 112. 
 
 De Pachman, playing of Mendelssohn's 
 pieces, 185. 
 
 De Quincey, quotation from the Dream 
 Fugue, 49. 
 
INDEX 
 
 335 
 
 Deuisches Requiem, iSS. 
 
 development section of Sonata-form, 
 93-94, 97-98. 
 
 Dickinson, Edward, estimate of Haydn, 
 101. 
 
 diminution, definition of, 44. 
 
 d'Indy, modal expression in works, 23; 
 canonic style, 36; Symphonic Varia- 
 tions, Istar, 67; comments on the 
 Sonata-form, 95, 100; comment on 
 Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, 131 
 comment on Sonata Pathetique, 142 
 comments on D major Sonata, 145 
 comments on Fifth Symphony, 145 
 Life of Beethoven, 159; comments on 
 Pranck's themes, 268; biography and 
 featm-es of style, 280-282; Istar, 
 analysis of, 283-287. 
 
 dissonance, discord, distinction between 
 terms, 143. 
 
 Dohntoyi, 328. 
 
 Dominant, acoustical and harmonic im- 
 portance of, 22-23; 52, 
 
 Don Oiovanni, 111, 119.. 
 
 Don Juan, 85. 
 
 Don Quixote, 89. 
 
 Dorian mode, 24. 
 
 Dostoyevsky, 314, 319, 320. 
 
 Doumic, Renfi, essay on George Sand, 
 189. i 
 
 Dowland, John, his Pavans, 80. 
 
 Duparc, Henri, account of his style, 298. 
 
 Dvorak, New World Symphony, 9; 21; 
 modal expression in works, 23; New 
 World Symphony (Aeolian mode), 26; 
 Suite for Orchestra, 79; works and 
 features of style, 322-324. 
 
 E 
 
 Eichendor£P, texts for Schumann's songs, 
 
 176. 
 Eighth Symphony of Beethoven, Finale, 
 
 157. 
 Elgar, Edward, works and featmres of 
 
 style, 32&-329. 
 Ellis, W. A., translation of Wagner's 
 
 Essays, l54. 
 Euesco, 327. 
 
 enharmonic, modulation, 52—53. 
 episode, definition of,f39-40. 
 exposition of Sonata-form, 96. 
 extended cadences, 62-63. 
 
 F majcn- Sonata of Mozart, analysis of, 
 
 113-115. 
 Fairchild, Blair, 329. 
 Fantastic Symphony, analysis of, 207- 
 
 211; quotation from, 207-209. 
 
 Earwell, Arthur, on folk-music, 33. 
 
 Faur6, Gabriel, account of style, 297- 
 298. 
 
 Faust Symphony, analysis of, 223-226. 
 
 Fay, Amy, account of Liszt, 217. 
 
 feminine ending, 57. 
 
 Fibich, 321. 
 
 Finck, H. T., Songs and Stmg Writers, 
 265; Chopin and Other Essays, 198; 
 comments on Program Music, 226; 
 biography of Grieg, 324. 
 
 Fitzwilliam Virgmal Book, 79, 152. 
 
 five-bar rhythm, 63-64. 
 
 Flonzaley Quartet, 105. 
 
 folk-songs, principle of restatement in, 
 16; origin and importance of, 19-33. 
 
 Foote, Arthur, fugal Finale to Suite, 41; 
 329. 
 
 Forsyth, Cecil, eulogy of Mendelssohn, 
 185. 
 
 Francesca da Rimini, 154. 
 
 Franck, Symphony, 8, 15; polyphonic 
 structure, 13; canonic style, 36; canon 
 in Symphony, 87; in Violin Sonata, 
 37; Fugue in B minor for Pianoforte,41; 
 comparison of his scoring with that of 
 Schumann, 181; limitations of his 
 pianoforte style, 190; his fusion of 
 movements compared with that of 
 Brahms, 251; biography, 256-257; 
 features of style, 257—258; analysis 
 of D minor Symphony, 259-268; of 
 Sonata for Violin, 268-274; use of 
 generative themes, 268; Symphonic 
 Variations, 274-280; comparison of 
 his style with that of Bach and Beet- 
 hoven, 274; his group of pupils, 280. 
 
 French folk-song, 29. 
 
 French Overture, 119. 
 
 Frescobaldi, 34. 
 
 Friedlander, Max, apropos of Chabrier, 
 281. 
 
 fugue, 11; definition of, 39. 
 
 Fuller-Maitlaud, hfe of Brahms, 238. 
 
 furiant,75; 321. 
 
 G 
 
 6 major Pianoforte Concerto of Beethoven, 
 
 152-158. 
 6 minor Symphony, analysis of, 115—119. 
 Gade, Neils, 324. 
 galliard, 75, 80._ 
 
 Galuppi, as a pioneer in Sonata-form, 93. 
 Gardiner, Balfour, 329. 
 Gautier, Th^ophile, eulogy of Berlioz, 
 
 207. 
 gavotte, 75; account of, and examples, 
 
 78-79. 
 Gilbert, H. F., on folk-songs, 20, 33; 329. 
 
336 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Gilman, Lawrence, essay on Berlioz, 214; 
 
 comments on I star, £83; essay on 
 
 Debussy, 293; comments on Pelleas 
 
 et Meliaande, 297. 
 Glinka, 301, 315. 
 Gluck, Ballet music, 87; Operatic Over- 
 
 tiu'es, 119. 
 Goethe, eulogy on Mozart, 112. 
 Gogol, 314, 320. 
 Gosse, Edmund, comment on Mallarm6'3 
 
 eclogue, 293. 
 Gossec, as a pioneer in Sonatas-form, 93. 
 Granados, Spanish folk-dance, 167; 
 
 works, 327. 
 Gregorian Chant, 10. 
 Gregorian modes in folk-songs, 20. 
 Gr6try, comments on Sonata-form, 98; 
 
 255. 
 Grieg, 21; Canon for Pianoforte, 37; 
 
 Peer Oynt Suite, 80; Holherg Suite, 80; 
 
 works and featm-es of style, 324—325. 
 ground bass, 86; from Bach's Mass, 86. 
 Grove, Beethoven, and his Nine Syno- 
 
 phonies, 130. 
 Grove's Dictionary, 70, 73, 79, 81, 86, 
 
 104, 119, 154, 161, 172, 200, 217, 238. 
 Guilmant, March in Dorian Mode, 24; 
 
 Canon for Organ, 36. 
 Gurney, The Power of Sound, 2. 
 
 habanera, 76. 
 
 Habets, Alfred, account of Borodin and 
 Liszt, 316. 
 
 Hadley, Henry, 329. 
 
 Hadow, W. H., 72, 81, 92, 96; Studies in 
 Modem Music, 184, 198, 207, 238; 
 essay on Dvorak, 321; article on 
 Scryabin, 326. 
 
 Hale, Philip, comments on Saint-Saens, 
 256; comments on Lalo, 256; essay on 
 Mozart, 112; comments on Schehere- 
 zade, 317-318. 
 
 hailing, 76. 
 
 Handel, fugue from the Messiah, 41; 
 Harpsichord Lessons, 74; Air in Sara- 
 bande rhythm, 77; Harmonious Black- 
 smith, 86; Overtiu:e to Messiah, 119. 
 
 Harmonic Series, 51. 
 
 Harold in Italy Symphony, analysis of, 
 214-215. 
 
 Haydn, 21, 81, 87; ancestry, 101; fea- 
 tures of style, 101-105; his freedom of 
 rhythm, 102; developmentof the String- 
 Quartet and the Orchestra, 102-103; 
 Sonata in E-Flat major, 105-106; 
 Surprise Symphony, 106-108; com- 
 ment on Minuet, 144; Prelude to the 
 Creation, 1S2. 
 
 Hazlitt, Qommeat on Mozart, 111. 
 
 Hebrides Overture of Mendelssohn, 186. 
 
 Heilman, William C, 329. 
 
 Heine, texts for songs of Schubert and 
 Schumann, 176; comment on Berlioz's 
 music, 205. 
 
 Helmholtz, 193, 291. 
 
 Henderson, W. J., Preludes and Studies, 
 184. 
 
 Henschel, vocal canon, 37; conversation 
 with Brahms, 233. 
 
 Heroic Symphony, analysis of, 132-140. 
 
 Harold, 255. 
 
 Hill, Edward Burlingame, Stevensoniana, 
 80; comments on Saint-Saens, 256; 
 essay on d'Indy, 281; 329. 
 
 Hinton, Arthur, 329. 
 
 Hoffman, E. T. A., Essay on Fifth Sym- 
 phony, 151. 
 
 Holherg Suite, 80. 
 
 Holbrook, 329. 
 
 Hohn&, Augusta, 280. 
 
 homophonic, 10. 
 
 hornpipe, 75. 
 
 Hull, Eaglefield, Biography of Scryabin, 
 326. 
 
 Huneker, Life of Chopin, 198; on the 
 playing of Chopin, 199; comment on 
 Chopin's Scherzo, 201; Life of Liszt, 
 217; comment on Liszt's Songs, 220; 
 essay on Brahms, 238; essay on 
 Tchaikowsky, 306. 
 
 Hungarian folk-song, 30, 328. 
 
 Hungarian Rhapsodies, 227. 
 
 Hungarian rhythms in Schubert, Lbzt 
 and Brahms, 30; in Schubert's Sym- 
 phonies, 166; in Brahms's First Sym- 
 phony, 244. 
 
 Impromptus of Schubert, 166-166. 
 
 Indian Suite, 80. 
 
 invention, 11. 
 
 Invention in C major, analysis of, 38-39. 
 
 inversion, definition of, 43—44. 
 
 Ionian mode, 24. 
 
 Ireland, John, 329. 
 
 Irish Folk-song, 29, 36. 
 
 Istar, Symphonic Poem of d'Indy, as 
 
 example of a varied air, 89; analysis 
 
 of, 283-287. 
 Italian Overture, 119. 
 
 Jadassohn, Canonic Pieces, 37. 
 
 James, Henry, essay on George Sand, 
 
 189. 
 Jannequin, descriptive pieces for voices, 
 
 152. 
 jota {aragonesa) 76. 
 
INDEX 
 
 337 
 
 Kaiser Quartet, 87. 
 
 Keats, quotation apropos of Fiffft Sym- 
 phony, 148; quotation from, 163. 
 
 Kelly, E. S., Chopin the Composer, 198. 
 
 Kelty, Michael, Reminiscences of Mozart, 
 112. 
 
 King Lear, quotation from by Berlioz, 207. 
 
 Kjerulf, 324. 
 
 Korbay, F., Hungarian Melodies, 30. 
 
 Krehbid, essay on Haydn, 103; The 
 Pianoforte and its Music, 152. 
 
 Kreis(£riana, 83. 
 
 Kuhnau, Bible Sonatas, 152. 
 
 Lalo, Eduard, works and features of 
 style, 256. 
 
 Laloy, Louis, Life of Chopin, 198; 
 essay on Debussy, 294. 
 
 Laparra, 327. 
 
 L'apprenti Sorcier, 154. 
 
 L'apres-mdi d'un Faune, 154, 293-294. 
 
 Lavoix, estimate of the Fifth Symphony, 
 127. 
 
 Legouv6, Recollections of Berlioz, 205. 
 
 Lekeu, 257. 
 
 L'ideefixe, 207-210. 
 
 Liebidfi, Mrs., essay on Debussy, 294. 
 
 Liszt, 4, 21; characterization of Schubert, 
 164; Faust Symphony (theme in 
 augmentation), 45; Life of Chopin, 
 198; biography, 217-218; features of 
 style, 218-219; analysis of Symphonic 
 Poem, Orpheus, 221-222; of Faust 
 Symphony, 223-226; pianoforte com- 
 positions, 226—227; alleged influence 
 on Brahms, 232; use of whole-tone 
 scale, 289. 
 
 Locke, A. W., article in Musical Quarterly, 
 151. 
 
 Loeffler, Charles Martin, works and 
 features of style, 329-330. 
 
 Lonesome Tunes, 33. 
 
 Umre, 75; example of, from Bach, 79. 
 
 Lowell, J. R., definition of a classic, 161. 
 
 Lully, 70, 119. 
 
 Lydian mode, 24. 
 
 M 
 
 MacCimn, Hamish, Scottish Melodies, 28. 
 MacDowell, Rigdvdon, 79; Indian Suite, 
 
 80; 329. 
 madrigal, 69. 
 Maeterlinck, compared with Franck, 257; 
 
 comment on the theatre, 294; influence 
 
 on Loeffler, 330. 
 Magic Flute Overture, analysis of, 119- 
 
 121. 
 Mahler, comments on his style, 231. 
 
 malagueHa, 76. 
 
 Mallarm6, 293. 
 
 Malipiero, 328. 
 
 Manfred Overture, 177-179. 
 
 Mannheim Orchestra, 102. 
 
 Manuel, Roland, life of Ravel, 299. 
 
 march, 75. 
 
 Marriage of Figaro, 111. 
 
 masculine ending, 57. 
 
 Mason, D. G., 7, 9; essay on Haydn, 102; 
 on Mozart, 112; comment on Cho- 
 pin's style, 196; essay on Berlioz, 211; 
 on Saint-Saens, 256; on d'Indy, 281; 
 comments on Istar, 283; essay on 
 Debussy, 295; on Tchaikowsky, 306; 
 on Dvof dk, 322; as composer, 329. 
 
 mazurka, 75. 
 
 mediant relationship, 52, 96. 
 
 Mehul, 255. 
 
 Melpomene Overture, 154. 
 
 Melusine Overtiu'e of Mendeksohn, 185. 
 
 Mendelssohn, 89; biography and features 
 of style, 184-186; Violin Concerto, 
 comments on, 185-186. 
 
 Merkel, canon for organ, 36. 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream Overture, 
 analysis of, 186-1-87. 
 
 Milton, quotation from Paradise Lost, 49. 
 
 minuet, 75; account of, and examples, 78. 
 
 Mixolydian mode, 24. 
 
 modal, chart of modes, 23-24. 
 
 modulation, 51—52. 
 
 Moments Musicaux of Schubert, 165- 
 166. 
 
 Montagu-Nathan, History of Russian 
 Music, 3U; 326. 
 
 Monteverde, 119. 
 
 Morales, 327. 
 
 Moor, 328. 
 
 Mother Ooose Suite, 81. 
 
 Moussorgsky, works and features of 
 style, 318-320. 
 
 Mozart, Magic Flute Overture, 40; 
 Finale of Jupiter Symphony, 40; 81; 
 biography, 108-110; features of style, 
 110-112; Mozart and Haydn, reactive 
 influence, 110-111; polyphonic skill, 
 110, 112; dramatic power. 111; ex- 
 amples from works, 113-121. 
 
 Mundy, John, descriptive pianoforte 
 piece, 152. 
 
 musette, 78. 
 
 Mystic Trumpeter, 154. 
 
 N 
 National Music, distinctive features of, 
 
 300-301. 
 Neefe, Beethoven's teacher, 124. 
 Neue Zeitschrift fur Musile, foimded by 
 
 Schumann, 174. 
 
338 
 
 INDEX 
 
 New World Symphony, critical comments 
 
 on, 323-324. 
 Newman, Musical Studies, 154, 178, 207; . 
 
 comment on Debussy, 296. 
 Newmarch, Bosa, Life of Tchaikowshy, 
 
 305. 
 Niecks, Programme Music, 152, 214, 221, 
 
 305; Life of Chopin, 198; eulogy of 
 
 Liszt, 228. 
 Nordraak, 324. 
 
 O 
 
 Organ, the, its tone compared with that 
 
 of pianoforte, 191. 
 organum, 10. 
 Orpheus, Symphonic Poem, analysis of, 
 
 221-222. 
 Osgood, George L., 329. 
 overtones, chart of, 193. 
 Oxford History of Music, 10, 12, 102, 103, 
 
 110, 119, 161, 165, 185, 216, 221, 226. 
 
 Paderewski, 77; Minuet of, 78; playing 
 of Mendelssohn's pieces, 185. 
 
 Paganini, connection with Berlioz, 214. 
 
 Paine, 3. K., Fuga Giocosa, 46, 49; 
 tribute to Beethoven, 129; 329. 
 
 Palestrina, 34. 
 
 Parker, H. W., fugue from Hora Novissi- 
 ma, 41; 329. 
 
 Parry, Evolution of the Art of Music, 9, 
 16, 21, 69, 70; choral works, 328. 
 
 Passacaglia, 86; of Brahms, 86; of Bach 
 for organ, 87. 
 
 passepied, 75. 
 
 Pater, Walter, remark on Romanticism, 
 161. 
 
 pavane, 75; example from Ravel, 79. 
 
 pedals of the pianoforte, the damper and 
 the una corda, 192-195. 
 
 Peer Gynt Suite, 80. 
 
 period, definition of, 50. 
 
 Pgrotin, 34. 
 
 Perry, Baxter, 90. 
 
 Phaeton, 256. 
 
 Philidor, 255. 
 
 Phrygian cadence, 24-25. 
 
 Phrygian mode, 23; Brahms's use of, 239. 
 
 pianoforte, the, account of its character- 
 istics, 189-195. 
 
 plagal cadence, 55. 
 
 polka, 75, 321. 
 
 polonaise, 75. 
 
 polyphonic, 10. 
 
 polyphonic music, complete account of, 
 33—49. 
 
 Poirde, Eli6, Life of Chopin, 198. 
 
 Pope, apropos of the jig, 80. 
 
 Pougin, Arthur, comments on Moua- 
 sorgsky, 318-319. 
 
 Powell, John, 329. 
 
 Pratt, History of Music, 10, 93, 159, 161. 
 
 prelude (to Sonatar-form), 99. 
 
 Prix de Rome, won by Berlioz, 205; by 
 Debussy, 288. 
 
 Prout, 85. 
 
 Puccini, fugal prelude to Madama Butter- 
 fly- 
 
 Purcell, 70; his Jig, 71. 
 
 Pushkin, 314. 
 
 Q 
 
 Quilter, Roger, 329. 
 
 R 
 
 Rabelais, his humor compared with Beet- 
 hoven's, 150, 157. 
 
 Rameau,. acoustical reforms of, 23; 70, 
 74, 81, 85; descriptive pieces, 152; 
 255. 
 
 Ravel, Daphnis and Chhe, 68; his 
 Pavane, '79; Mother Ooose Suite, 81; 
 works an^ account of style, 299-300. 
 
 recapitulation (or resume), 98-99. 
 
 Reinecke, Canonic Vocal Trios, 37. 
 
 Remenyi, Brahms's tour with, 232. 
 
 repetition, importance of, 12, 13; types 
 of, 14-18. 
 
 Rheinberger, Canonic Pieces, 37; Tarart- 
 telle for Pianoforte, 79. 
 
 rhythmic variety (five and seven beats 
 a measure), 66-68. 
 
 Richter, Jean Paul, influence on Schu- 
 mann, 172. 
 
 Riemann, 93. 
 
 rigaudon, 75, examples of, from Giieg, 
 Rameau and MacDowell, 79; 81. 
 
 Rimsky-KorsakoS, works and features of 
 style, 317. 
 
 Roid'Ys,Le,i56. 
 
 Rolland, Romain, account of Beethoven 
 in Jean Christophe, 125; Life of Beet- 
 hoven, 159; essay on Berlioz, 207. 
 
 Romanticism and Romantic School, 
 account of, 160-165. 
 
 Borneo and Juliet Symphony, comments 
 on, 215-216. 
 
 rondo, account of, 81-85. 
 
 rondo-sonata form, 144. 
 
 Ropartz, 257; characterization of a 
 theme in Franck's Symphony, 266. 
 
 Rossetti, Blessed Damozel, set by Debussy, 
 288. 
 
 Rossini, "crescendo" in Overtures, 62; 
 eulogy of Mozart, 121. 
 
 Rouet d'Omphale, Le, 256. 
 
 round, 11; Old English Rounds, 12. 
 
 rubato (tempo), definition of, 199. 
 
INDEX 
 
 339 
 
 Rubinstein, movements in Ocean Sym- 
 phony, 95; estimate of Mozart, 111; 
 characterization of the damper pedal, 
 191. 
 
 Runciman, quotation apropos of Weber 
 from Old Scores and New Readings, 
 169-170. 
 
 Russian folk-songs, 30—33. 
 
 Russian music, general tendencies of, 
 314-315. 
 
 Saint-Saens, 1, 2; comment on Berlioz's 
 Romeo and Juliet Symphony, 216; 
 account of works and style, 255—256. 
 
 Sakuntala, 154. 
 
 saUarello, 75; Berlioz's use of the rhythm, 
 211. 
 
 Sammartiui, as a pioneer in Sonata- 
 form, 93. 
 
 Santayana, 5. 
 
 sarabande, 75, 76, 77. 
 
 Scandinavian Music, 324. 
 
 Scarlatti, Alessandro, Aria da capo, 14; 
 operatic overture, 119. 
 
 Scarlatti, D., the Cat-Fugue, 48; as vir- 
 tuoso, 74; anticipation of Sonata- 
 form, 93; Courante for pianoforte, 79; 
 crossing of hands in Beethoven, 141, 
 144. 
 
 Schimiann, 7; motive from the Camaval, 
 13; from the Kinderscenen, 13; 
 Arabesque, 14; saying about folk- 
 songs, 20; Canon for organ, 36; 
 Canonic Variations, 37; Camaval, 68; 
 Phantasiesliicke, 68; his use of the 
 Rondo, 82-83; Variations, 88; com- 
 ment on Schubert, 166; biography 
 and features of style, 172-174; analysis 
 of Des Abends, 174-175; of Warum, 
 175-176; of Novellette in E major, 176; 
 of Song, Mondnacht, 176-177; of 
 Man/red Overture, 177-179; character- 
 ization of the four Symphonies, 179; 
 Symphony in D minor, analysis of, 
 179-184; eulogy of Brahms in the 
 Neue Zeiischrift, 232. 
 
 Schola Cantorum, accoimt of, 282. 
 
 Scottish folk-tune, 28. 
 
 Scryabin, as harmonic innovator, 143; 
 works and features of style, 327. 
 
 seguidilla, 76, 79. 
 
 sentence, complete analysis of, 53, 54. 
 
 sequence, definition of, 38. 
 
 Scheherazade Suite, 81. 
 
 scherzo, of Beethoven, 128-129. 
 
 Schmitt, Floreut, 280. 
 
 Schubert, 21; Variations, 88; account of 
 style and works, 162—169; character 
 of songs, 165; symphonic style, 166; 
 
 chamber music, 166; pianoforte style, 
 
 167; as great colorist, 167-168; 
 
 analysis of Unfinished Symphony, 167- 
 
 169. 
 seven-bar rhythm, 66. 
 Shakespeare, 1; apropos of the gaillard, 
 
 80. 
 Sharp, Cecil, English Folk-Song, 27; on 
 
 American folk-songs, 33. 
 Shepherd, Arthur, 329. 
 Shedlock, J. S., 93, 100. 
 shifted rhythm, 46. 
 Sibelius, features of his style, 230; 324, 
 
 327. 
 siciliano, 76. 
 Smding, 325. 
 Sinigaglia, Overture, 99. 
 Sjogren, 324. 
 Smetana, Bartered Bride Overture, 40, 
 
 121; works and features of style, 321- 
 
 322. 
 Smith, Stanley, 329. 
 Smithson, Henrietta, her life with 
 
 Berlioz, 204-205. 
 sonata and sonata-form, distinction 
 
 between, 94—95. 
 sonata-form, account of 91-100; tabular 
 
 view, 100. 
 Song of Destiny, Brahms, 233. 
 Songs without Words, Mendelssohn, 185. 
 Spanish music, its influence in modern 
 
 times, 327-328. 
 Spitta, essay on Brahms, 238. 
 Stamitz, J., influence on Sonata-form, 93. 
 Stanford, Villiers, Irish folk-songs, 29; 
 
 features of style, 328. 
 Stanford-Forsyth history, 121, 328. 
 Stendhal, remark on Romanticism, 161. 
 Stevensoniana, 80. 
 Strauss, R., motive from Till's Merry 
 
 Pranks, 18; Don Juan, 85; TiU 
 
 Eulenspiegel, 85; estimate of Mozart, 
 
 111. 
 Stravinsky, as harmonic innovator, 143; 
 
 works and features of style, 326-327. 
 Streatfield, essay on Tchaikowsky, 306. 
 stretto, 46. 
 
 string-quartet, definition of, 94. 
 subdominant, acoustical and harmonic 
 
 importance, 22-23; 52. 
 subject (of a fugue), 42-43. 
 suite, the classical, 73-80; the modern, 
 
 80-81. 
 Suites, French and English, 74. 
 Sullivan, Arthur, operas, 328. 
 Sumer is icumen in (Ionian mode) 27. 
 Surette, T. W., comments on Bach's 
 
 style, 48; 72; Development of Symr 
 
 phonic Music, 159. 
 Surprise Symphony, analysis of, 106-108. 
 
340 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Svendsen, 324. 
 Sweelinck, 34. 
 Symonds, Arthur, Studies in the Seven 
 
 Arts, 159. 
 Sym/phonic Etvdes, 88. 
 symphonic poem, definition of, 149, 220. 
 symphonic style, development of, 228- 
 
 231. 
 
 T 
 
 Tallys, Thomas, vocal canon, 37. 
 
 tambourin, 71. 
 
 tango, 76. 
 
 taranieUa, 75. 
 
 Taylor, Bayard, translation of stanza 
 from Faust, 225. 
 
 Tchaikowsky, Modeste, biography of his 
 brother, 306. 
 
 Tchaikowsky, P., Fifth Symphony, 8, 
 21; analysis of, 306-314; modal 
 expression in works, 23; Legend 
 (Aeolian mode), 26; Fourth Symphony, 
 finale of, 33; analysis of, 305; Sixth 
 Symphony, 67; analysis of, 305-306; 
 Quartet in F major, 67-68; variations 
 I from Trio, 89; estimate of Mozart, 
 111, 121; biography, 302-303; featm'es 
 of style, 303-305. 
 
 Thackeray, W. M., characterization of 
 Berhoz, 204. 
 
 Thayer, Alexander, Life of Beethoven, 159. 
 
 thematic development, 34. 
 
 three-bar rhythm, 65-66. 
 
 three-part form, complete account of, 
 72-73; examples of, 73. 
 
 Tiersot, J., on folk-melodies, 21; Chan- 
 sons Populaires, 30; work on Berlioz, 
 207. 
 
 Till Eulenspiegel, 85. 
 
 Tolstoi, 315, 319, 320. 
 
 tonahty, principles of, 50-51. 
 
 tonic, acoustical and harmonic impor- 
 tance of, 22-23. 
 
 Tragic Overture, Brahms, 233. 
 
 transformation of theme, its use in 
 Schumann, 182. 
 
 Turgenieff, 315. 
 
 two-part form, definition of, 38; com- 
 plete account of, 69-72. 
 
 Van Vechten, book on Spanish music, 
 328. 
 
 variation form, account of, 85-91. 
 
 Variations, in F minor of Haydn, 87; on 
 Death and the Maiden, 88; Serieuses, 
 88; on a Theme from Handel, 88; on 
 
 the St. ArdJumy Choral, 88; (Enigma) 
 by Elgar, 89; Symphoniques, 89. 
 
 Verdi, Minuet from Fahtaff, 78. 
 
 Veretschagin, 320. 
 
 Verkine, 293. 
 
 Violin Concerto of Beethoven, 156-167. 
 
 Vittoria, 327. 
 
 Vivaldi, 70. 
 
 von Breuuing family, 125. 
 
 W 
 
 Wagner, comment on operas, 4; quality 
 of themes, 8; motive from the Valkyrie, 
 12; polyphonic structure of operas, 13; 
 motive from Tristan and Isolde, 17; 
 fugal Prelude to third act of the 
 Mastersingers, 41; comments on Leo- 
 nore Overture, 98; eulogy of Mendels- 
 sohn, 185. 
 
 Waldesrauschen, Etude of Lizst, 227. 
 
 Waldstein, friendship with Beethoven, 
 125. 
 
 Waldstein Sonata, 83. 
 
 Walker, E., on English folk-music, 22. 
 
 Wallace, estimate of Haydn, 102; Thresh- 
 old of Music, 291; 329. 
 
 Wallaschek, R., on primitive music, 21. 
 
 Wallenstein Trilogy (d'Indy), 281. 
 
 waltz, 75. 
 
 Weber, Moto Perpetuo, 83; orchestral 
 treatment in his Overtures, 164-165; 
 account of style, 169-172; Inmiation 
 to the Dance, arrangement by Wein- 
 gartner, 169; compared with that by 
 Berlioz, 171; Oberon Overture, analysis 
 of, 170f-171; compositions for piano- 
 forte, 171. 
 
 Weckerliu, example from Echos du Temps 
 Passe, 71. 
 
 Weingartner, eulogy of Berlioz, 206; 
 comments on the Symphonic Poem, 
 220; conmients on Brahms's First 
 Symphony, 244; 246. 
 
 Whistler, compared with Debussy, 293. 
 
 Whiting, Arthur, Scottish Melodies, 28; 
 Irish Melodies, 29; Suite Modeme, 80; 
 Pedal Studies, 193, 194; 329. 
 
 Whitman, 1; quotation from Mystic 
 Trumpeter, 146. 
 
 Widor, canon for organ, 36. 
 
 Willaert, harmonic basis of choruses, 23. 
 
 Williams, Abdy, on Brahms's rhythm, 
 253. 
 
 Williams, Vaughan, 329. 
 
 Wordsworth, quotation from, 163. 
 
 Wyman, Loraine, 33. 
 
LIST OF COMPOSITIONS REFERRED TO IN THIS WORK 
 
 I. Sumer is icumen in. Old English Round. 
 
 n. To the Green Wood. Bound by Byrd. 
 
 in. Finale of Wagner's Valkyrie. 
 
 rV. Reconnaissance from Schumann's Camaval. 
 
 V. Irish Folk Song. 
 
 VI. Epilogue of Strauss's Till's Merry Pranks. 
 
 VH. March in Dorian Mode. Guilmant. 
 
 Vin. Movement in Lydian Mode. Beethoven. 
 
 IX. Canon. Thomas Tallys. 
 
 X. Canon from Etudes Symphoniques. Schumann. 
 
 XI. No. VI of the Goldberg Variations. J. S. Bach. 
 
 Xn. Canon for Pianoforte. Grieg. 
 
 Xm. Canon for Pianoforte. Jadassohn. 
 
 XrV. TvxMxnced Invention in C major. 3. S. Bach. 
 
 XV. Three^coiced Fugite in Eflat major. J. S. Bach. 
 
 XVI. Final portion of Organ Fugue in G major. 3. S. Ba(& 
 
 XVH. Cat Fugue for Pianoforte. D. Scarlatti. 
 
 XVlll. Fuga Giocosafor Pianoforte. 3. K. Faine. 
 
 XIX. Song, The Evening Star. Schumann. 
 
 XX. Gavotte in F major. Corelli. 
 
 XXI. Waltz in A flat major. Schubert. 
 
 XXn. Traumerei. Schumann. 
 
 XXTTT. Prelude in A major. Chopin. 
 
 XXTV. Lyric Piece in Eflat major. Grieg. 
 
 XXV. Nocturne in F major. Chopin. 
 
 XXVI. Berceuse in G major. Grieg. 
 
 XXVII. Intermezzo in Eflat minor. HeQman. 
 
 XXVin. Sarabande in D major. 3. S. Bach. 
 
 XXIX. Gavotte from Third English Suite. 3. S. Bach. 
 
 XXX. Minuet from Don Giovanni. Mozart. 
 
 XXXI. Two Minuets from Castor and Pollux. Rameau. 
 
 XXXII. Gigue in G major. 3. S. Bach. 
 
 XXXin. Qigue in G major. Mozart. 
 
 XXXIV. Couranie in F minor. D. Scarlatti. 
 
 XXXV. French Suite in E major. 3. S. Bach. 
 
 XXXVI. Soeur Monigue. Hondo by Couperin. 
 
 XXXVn. Romance in E major. Rondo by Schumann. 
 
 XXXVin. Rondo a Capriccio in major. Beethoven^ 
 
 XXXIX. Aria from Dido aniJEneas (Ground bass). Purcell. 
 
 XL. Sonata in C major. D. Scarlatti. 
 
 XLI. Finale from Sonata in Eflat major. Haydn. 
 
 xm. First Movement from the Surprise Symphony. Haydn. 
 
 XLHI. Adagio in B minor. Mozart. 
 
 341 
 
542 
 
 LIST OF COMPOSITIONS 
 
 XLIV. First Movement from the Heroic Symphony. Beethoven. 
 
 XLV. Sonata in D Major. Beethoven. 
 
 XLVI. Finale from Sonata in A fiat major. Beethoven. 
 
 XLVII. Portion of Slow Movement of Seventh Symphony. Beethoven. 
 
 XLVIII. Slow Movement of Trio in B flat major. Beethoven. 
 
 XLIX. Theme of Slow Movement from Sonata in E major. Op. 109. Beethoven 
 
 L. The Young Nun. Song by Schubert. 
 
 LI. Intermezzo from the Euryanthe Overture. Weber. 
 
 Ln. Portion of Fantasy Piece, Orillen. Schumann. 
 
 UII. Novellelte in E major. Schmnann. 
 
 LIV. Moonlight. Song by Schumann. 
 
 LV. Venetian Boat Song. Mendelssohn. 
 
 LYE. Barcarolle. Chopin. 
 
 LVII. The Camaval Romain Overture. Berlioz. 
 
 LVni. March of the Pilgrims from the Harold in Italy Symphony. Berlioz. 
 
 LIX. Forest Murmurs. Etude by Liszt. 
 
 LX. Ballade in minor. Brahms. 
 
 LXI. My Love is Green as the Alder Bush. Song by Brahms. 
 
 LXII. Finale of Symphonic Poem, Istar. d'Indy. 
 
 LXIII. Chanson triste for Pianoforte. Tchaikowsky. 
 
 LXIV. Invocation to Sleep, Song by Tchaikowsky. 
 
 LXV. Serenade. Borodin. 
 
 LXVI. Cradle Song of the Poor. Moussorgsky. 
 
 LXVIL Silhouette. Dvorak. 
 
 LXVin. Spring Song. Grieg. 
 
 LXIX. Dance of Spring. Grieg. 
 
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