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CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Wilbur Fiske Stone 
 
 MUSIC 
 
ML 410.W O 13S88 n ' Ver! " y L ' brary 
 
 3 1924 022 171 858 
 
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/details/cu31 9240221 71 858 
 
Bichard Wagner 
 
 AND 
 
 The Style of the Music -Drama 
 
 BY 
 
 WILBUR FISKE STONE, Jun. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS; LIMITED 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS 
 
 1897 
 All rights reserved 
 
~-fra«s^rr«^.. -Tr«^ Oil* 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Nineteenth Century is drawing to a close. The same cannot be said 
 of the Wagner question. The century is marked by the fierceness of 
 the debates with which it has bristled. Already in Science, however, 
 heated discussion is being discountenanced in favour of positive work. 
 May we not hope that the Music-Drama question will fare likewise. It 
 would be a pity if a serious attempt at a new Art were to remain sporadic, 
 blighted by a controversy that already makes an extensive bibliography 
 in itself. Beside a mass of adverse criticism and friendly elucidation, and 
 Wagner's own theoretical works, we have his Art-works as settled facts. 
 Has not the time arrived to reconnoitre a little — to realise where we are — 
 and in this post- Wagner mood to attempt some positive answer to the 
 question — " What next " ? The present work is an essay towards resuming 
 and defining what may be learned from Wagner, and the whole discussion 
 of his works and ideas. 
 
 There arises the question — what purpose has such a work ? It being 
 generally recognised that rules of procedure will not make Art-works, 
 there yet remains the fact that the definition of some of the conditions of 
 style may be of some service in turning the eyes of composers in the right 
 direction, perhaps also of service in leading to more worthy and sympathetic 
 performances of the works. Moreover, it is quite possible that rational 
 conviction on the part of an artist is not necessarily inconsistent with 
 spontaneous production. That it has often been so in Art is undeniable, 
 but the very case of Wagner is a strong point against its fatality. Hence, 
 a. recognition of the direction in which to look for a perfect style might be 
 a direct aid to the creative artist. 
 
 Further, a factor in the real and living existence of an Art-work is the 
 
iv THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 audience, including critics. This, particularly in the case of a new Art, 
 means that it is expedient for the audience to realise the best way of ap- 
 proaching the given kind of Art-work, and this may be furthered by an 
 appreciation of the peculiarities of the style as distinguished from that of 
 other kinds of Art-works. It is for the definition of this in the case of the 
 Music-Drama that the present essay strives. 
 
 The second volume will take up the works of Kichard Wagner one by 
 one, and compare them as concrete results with that style of the Music- 
 Drama described somewhat in detail in the present volume, as the norm 
 or type of a particular dramatic species. 
 
 London, April 1S97. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. NATUEE OF MUSIC-DEAMA' 
 II. QUALITIES OF MUSIC . 
 
 9 
 20 
 
 II. 
 
 III. DERIVATION OF THE CANONS 
 
 33 
 
 III. 
 APPLICATION OF THE CANONS 
 
 1. Dramatic Idea 
 
 2. Situations . 
 
 3. Action . 
 
 4. Character . 
 
 5. Emotions 
 
 6. Instrumental Style 
 
 7. Vocal Style 
 
 8. Acting (Style of) 
 
 9. Poetry and Diction 
 
 10. Scenery 
 
 11. Performance 
 
 47-143 
 
 47 
 
 55 
 
 66 
 
 76 
 
 80 
 
 89 
 
 108 
 
 117 
 
 122 
 
 129 
 
 139 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 145 
 
V1L 
 
 DIAGRAMMATIC TABLE OF TREATMENT OF PART III. 
 
 ( With Parts numbered for Reference.) 
 
 3IC-DRAMA 
 
 ( The Stage 
 
 POETRT . 
 
 , Music 
 
 ' Scenery and Costume (10). 
 Situations (2). 
 Acting (8). 
 .Performance (11). 
 
 'Dramatic Idea (1). 
 Action (3). 
 Poetic conceptions 
 Poetic diction 
 Emotions (5). 
 .Characters (4). 
 
 (9). 
 
 ( Orchestral 
 
 v Vocal (7). 
 
 < Symphonic Style and 
 Leading motives 
 Power of expression 
 .Instrumentation J 
 
 (6). 
 
vm 
 
 SlDENOTES 
 
 On outer margin of pages, refer to Canons similarly lettered in Chapter III. 
 (Division II.). 
 
 On inner margin of pages, to Notes similarly numbered in Appendix, pp. 145 
 et seq. 
 
 " Arts," used in place of ' Fine Arts,' is a general term embracing Music, 
 Architecture, Literature, the Stage, etc., and ' contemplator ' stands for speetalor- 
 auditor-reader. 
 
 Stage is sometimes employed where it was feared that ' Drama ' might not 
 forcibly suggest viva voce and viva scena. 
 
THE 
 
 STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 Contents of Introduction. 
 
 page 
 
 (a) The possibility of a compound Art in general 1 
 
 Depends on the nearness of relation (affinity) of the several Arts which enter 
 
 therein. (Example : Building, Architecture and Sculpture.) 
 The advantages which accrue from such a combination ; ' cumulative effect. ' 
 
 (b) Wherein Music and Poetry approach each other, and hence the theoretical possi- 
 
 bility of a combination between them 2 
 
 Empirical attempts at such a combination. 
 
 Gluck, Programme Music, and the ' Opera.' What was lacking in the ' Opera ' 
 
 (Tragic Opera) — Styh. 
 
 (c) More subtle reasons for a combination between Poetry and Music. The ' Stage ' 
 
 versus the ' inner drama ' 3 
 
 Contrasts between Music and other Arts which show that Music is particularly 
 fitted to present that ' inner Drama ' of which the ' Stage ' is the outward and 
 visible sign. Hence the probable efficiency of such a combination if it could 
 be effected harmoniously. 
 
 (a) Since we are going to consider an Art which is compounded of 
 several Arts, it will be well to consider for a moment what a ' compound 
 Art ' is. A Gothic cathedral may be taken as an example of a ' compound 
 Art.' It is a building, it presents an architectural design, there are statues 
 and bas-reliefs, paintings and mosaic-work, and music enters into the 
 services for which the building exists. All these Arts combine to work a 
 ' cumulative effect ' on the mind of the observer. A Gothic cathedral 
 may be viewed as a combination of Arts adapted to a certain end. 
 
 The possibility of combining various Arts depends largely upon the 
 nearness of relation of the particular Arte. Thus in the above case, it was 
 comparatively easy to lay the stones according to a design more pleasing 
 to the eye than a bare oblong hall would be. In shaping the stones for the 
 building purposes it lay at hand to include a higher grade of Sculpture, and 
 hence statues and. bas-reliefs. Paintings and mosaic-work are easily com- 
 bined with the laying of pavement and with the decoration of the interior 
 
 B 
 
2 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 walls. Music agrees with the spirit of the service, and hence may be 
 combined with the same to intensify the effect. 
 
 The advantages which accrue from such a combination of Arts do not 
 arise from the mere juxtaposition of works of several Arts chosen without 
 regard to any particular end. The parts are fitted to each other, are 
 harmonious, and they all work for a particular end, an ' end ' differing from 
 that of any one of the component Arts working independently for itself. 
 The result is a Compound Art, -displaying Style, and a Style peculiar to 
 itself. 
 
 (&) We have remarked the use of Music in connection with the church 
 service, and have foreshadowed a certain harmony between the effects of 
 ^solemn Music and the religious sentiments. Another Art — Poetry — may 
 also be recognised as occurring in connection with the services, in the 
 psalms and hymns. The fact that hymns and the psalms are so frequently 
 sung seems to sanction the idea that Poetry and Music are so closely related 
 that their combination is natural ; and in fact, Music and Poetry are con- 
 tinually combined, both in religious and in secular songs. 
 
 A bond of relationship may be traced in the fact that Poetry appeals to 
 our feelings, and Music does also ; hence combined in a song or hymn, each 
 may work its effect on the mind, and affect us more strongly and pleasantly 
 than either one would alone. In case there is not only a poetic idea, but 
 also poetic form— rhythm, &c, this rhythm also finds a counterpart in 
 Music which is itself rhythmical. Vocal Music is especially allied to Poetry 
 when the circumstances of its rendition are such that the singer is posited 
 as personally experiencing the lofty emotions expressed in the words of 
 his song ; for in such an attitude towards his words it seems more natural 
 to the auditor that he should employ a means of expression — Poetry and 
 Music — so different from that which he employs in everyday life. In 
 such a personal situation the singer ceases to be a cold outsider relating 
 some impersonal event, or narrating the joys and sufferings of others (Epic 
 or Narrative situation), and becomes himself the one afflicted or overjoyed 
 to an extent and in a manner sufficiently unusual to justify his recourse 
 to a mode of expression so intense and exalted, and unaccustomed as Music. 
 
 Instrumental Music as a separate art has made great progress in the 
 expression of various phases of emotion. As separate arts, Poetry and 
 Music have reached a high degree of development, and it is conceivable 
 that could the two arts be harmoniously combined, a new art might be 
 founded which might outshine its parents in force and beauty. Various 
 phases of the attempted combination of Dramatic Poetry and Music are the 
 works of Gluck, the programme music of Berlioz, and the modern ' Opera/ 
 Let us consider the latter for a moment. 
 
 The Opera suffers from a misapprehension of what ' combination ' is. 
 The Opera is a mixture to amuse a-pleasure*seeking audience, and is not 
 properly a compound at all. The conditions of its making, were not aus- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 picious. The artist for the new art ought to have been the artist of the 
 whole. The new art suffered from the fact that one man executed the 
 drama and another composed the music for it. Not only this, but the text 
 was usually taken from some drama which had been written for a spoken 
 drama, with no reference to any subsequent combination with music. The 
 conditions of its renditions, too, were unfavourable to a serious art. 
 
 We might employ a metaphor from chemistry, and say that one Art has 
 a greater ' affinity ' for some Arts than for others — it has a ' combining 
 power ' and the product is a ' chemical compound,' not a mere ' physical 
 mixture.' 
 
 The Opera was lacking in a good many respects, the Music in parts was 
 lacking in nobility and at times frivolous, the text was often as frivolous 
 and foolish, and ' ballets ' occurred where there was no reason for their 
 introduction — where they interfered with the dramatic unity. But the 
 principle which was assaulted was that there was no unity — no Style — the 
 Music did not agree with the dramatic context, and hence an harmonious 
 effect was not attained. The Opera, so far as Tragedy was concerned, 
 lacked consistency — harmony, viz. it did not display ' Style.' 
 
 It was not yet fully realised that a harmonious combination of Music 
 with Drama might necessitate a kind of Drama which differed essentially 
 from Drama in its independent form of the ' spoken Drama,' and that Music 
 as an independent art might have to suffer some changes to fit it for the 
 compound art — the Music-Drama. In other words, it was not recognised 
 that since the Music-Drama was a new art it would have a Style of its 
 own. 
 
 Richard Wagner was able both to make his Drama and write his Music, and therefore 
 was in a better position to bring into harmony two Aits which had reached such a develop- 
 ment in their independent states that they were not easily reconcilable. It required the 
 subtle sublimation of that wonderful alembic — the ' single mind,' to insure a compound. 
 
 (c) There is a special reason why a combination between Drama and 
 Music ought to be effective. The stage, viewed as a series of pictures, 
 gives us the outer man — his movements, &c. — but it does not give us any 
 direct insight as to the ' inner ' man — the workings of his mind. 
 
 Every means is employed to make us feel what is taking place in the 
 actor's mind, but even Speech can give us the expression of the character's 
 emotions, only not the emotions themselves. We feel that if we could 
 only draw away the opaque veil which hides his mind from ours, we 
 might be able to follow the terrible drama which is playing in his mind — 
 the very seat of the whole drama — for its acts of volition are that of which 
 the momentous acts are only the results, the consequences. The final 
 springs of the whole action lie hidden in the minds of the various 
 characters, and if we would view the whole drama of man we should feel 
 his feelings as well as see his acts. Hence, if Music were able to admit us 
 more intimately into the very minds of the actors we should see the drama 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 unfold itself before our eyes as a whole— even as our own dramas unfold 
 themselves to us — not as acts only, but as the temptations thereto, the 
 desires, the pain, the indecision, the resolution, and the momentous 
 step. 
 
 Music is able to do this to a certain degree, providing we are sensitive 
 to its power, and are able to feel that the strains of the orchestra present 
 that inner drama, the outer side of which we perceive through the eye. 
 After a long and slow development, the orchestra has been raised to a 
 most powerful exponent of all the phases of deep emotion ; this is especi- 
 ally true if the imagination be aided by some external means such as the 
 action on the stage. In connection with all the means of expression of the 
 stage, Music gains that definiteness of expression of particular emotions 
 which it lacks as an independent Art, and Drama gains in fineness of 
 expression and beauty. Music is able to aid us by forcibly suggesting 
 that which we have to supply in contemplating the Spoken Drama, viz. 
 the invisible movements of the minds of the characters. (Cf. the panto* 
 mime in Verdi's Otello, act iv., where Othello enters.) The difference 
 between this and the case in which music attempts to supply by itself the 
 whole apparatus of the stage is very evident. The latter has often been 
 the besetting sin of programme-music. To suggest concrete objects or 
 events with unerring surety and uniformity is probably beyond the powers 
 of expression of Music. 
 
 Music is particularly liable to misunderstandings when it attempts to 
 depict distinct phases of emotion. It needs something to indicate to the 
 auditor the distinct phase of emotion which the composer intended to 
 depict. It is just here that the Stage is capable of befriending Music by 
 means of its combined apparatus of scenery, costume, action, speech, and 
 gesture. Through the Stage, Music receives just that support which 
 its intrinsic weakness (as regards the suggestion of definite phases of 
 feelings) requires. The ' critical point ' which renders such a rich com- 
 bination possible is this — that the same organ which is employed for 
 speaking in the Drama is employed for singing in Music. Hence the 
 possibility of intimately combining Drama and Music. 
 
 It is not intended to assert dogmatically that there can be no Drama without Music, or 
 that there can be no Music without Drama, but only that there is a separate art possible 
 — the Music-Drama, 
 
 Moreover, it is not necessary to pose as ' prohibitionists ' of the less lofty Arts, but only 
 cry put against the complete neglect of the more lofty Arts. We need not condemn works 
 which do not agree with the standard proposed in this book even, but merely notice and 
 deine an ideal which, if attained, would be marked by a complete agreement of all details, 
 viz. would display a ' Style.' 
 
 The realisation of a combination of Poetry (in its narrower literary 
 sense) with Music, to form Song is dependent upon a ' critical point ' in 
 man's nature — the possibility of singing. Orchestral Music requires words 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 to fix definitely the particular phase of the emotion, but the bridge between 
 Language and orchestral Music would be wanting without the happy fact 
 that the same organ which is the organ of speech, can also be cultivated to 
 the rank of a musical instrument, and yet not renounce its more primitive 
 function of speech. The words are there, and the capacity for raising them 
 to a musical condition is there also in the vocal chords, which are capable of 
 being cultivated for musical purposes so far beyond the point necessary for 
 everyday speech. It seems strange that the human race so early dis- 
 covered and cultivated this simple feature of their bodily organisation — 
 that they should have been able to develope so noble an art as song from 
 a very simple quality of the organs serving for speech. In the possibility 
 of the Music-Drama, this parasitical faculty of ' singing ' is a critical 
 point, a sine qua non of the combination of Music and words. 
 
 Let us now consider why Music, among all the Arts, is so particularly 
 fitted to present the inner (mental) drama of which the Stage is the 
 ' outward and visible sign.' 
 
 In the first place, Music appeals to the ear and not to the eye, viz. 
 Music is invisible, and therefore adapted to present a world which is 
 invisible. In this, Music is contrasted with all the Arts. The Arts for the 
 most part deal with the visible world, or themselves appeal to the eye. 
 Withal Art has been more parasitical upon the eye than upon the ear. 
 
 Another analogy between Music and emotions is that 'space relations' 
 are absent from both; the 'yard stick' does not enter into the states of 
 consciousness which we designate as emotions,, nor are the sensations of 
 Music at all measured in inches, feet, and yards. The eye, not the ear, is 
 the sense-organ for measures of length, breadth, and thickness. This leads 
 us to a quality Music possesses which renders it most subtly capable of 
 standing for emotions : this is, * variations in degree.' The measuring-rod 
 is excluded from auditory sensation, but in its place there is a measure 
 which is quite as fine and forcible as tenths of an inch and hundreds of 
 miles. Listen to a large orchestra, and notice the remarkable variations 
 in intensity which are possible — from a 'pianissimo' to a 'fortissimo,' 
 from the stars to the earth. The dynamic changes in loudness and inten- 
 sity of a great orchestra suggest to the mind that the music it is listening 
 to is the direct outpouring of the feelings of the players. That is, our 
 emotions extend over a certain time, and vary in intensity from moment to 
 moment, and Music does the same, hence one easily suggests the other. 
 
 Listening to the prelude of Tristan and Isolde— as it rises and falls, now more intense 
 and now less intense; at one time pleasing and at another making us wild for some satis- 
 fying resolution of harmony — we are actually forced into the belief that this is "feeling," 
 not sound only that we hear. The music suggests the idea of emotion quite irrespective 
 of whether we like or dislike this piece. 
 
 • Music is superlatively the Art which wields ' Modulation ' of all kinds. 
 From soft to loud, from loud to soft, from less intense to more intense, 
 
6 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 from passionate outbreaks to calm, from pleasant to discordant, and from 
 discord to tranquillity, from sad to happy — from bewildering hurry to 
 mournful tread, from furious dance to solemn measure — these are some of 
 the ' chiaroscuro ' effects which are in the power of the musician. 
 
 Moreover, Music is more trenchant — more clamorous — than any 
 other Art. The eye can close itself to unbeautiful combinations of 
 colour, but the ear is inexorably exposed to the musician's power, and is 
 not gifted with the indifference of the eye towards 'discords.' In this 
 respect, the musician has a much less indifferent organ to play upon than 
 the painter, and he can forcibly drag the! mind of the auditor through the 
 whole gamut of emotions. 
 
 The function, then, of the Music in the combination would be to present 
 or suggest the inner emotional side of which the dramatic action and its 
 expression are the outer and physical side. 
 
 The poetical side of Music being its emotional side, that side of 
 Poetry which will best combine with it will be the emotional side, and this 
 is pre-eminently ' Dramatic Poetry,' which is founded upon emotions. We 
 have already seen what an aid to Music the concrete presentations of the 
 Stage would be, and hence are in a position to recognise the general form 
 of the Music-Drama as a dramatic poem with stage setting and musical 
 dialogue and orchestral suggestion of the various emotions of the personal 
 atmosphere. This idea will be more and more defined as we go on. 
 
 We have seen that it is one thing to expect Music to suggest broad 
 phases of feeling, and quite another to expect it to paint objeptive 
 occurrences. Music which suggests no more tl\an a sequence of the more 
 distinct phases of emotion is likely to work its effect — without a programme 
 even. 
 
 Music which usurps the art of Painting, and attempts to depict not the 
 ' inner ' world of vague feelings, but the • outer ' world of everyday 
 impressions, is very likely to be misunderstood, even in connection with an 
 extensive ' programme.' Beyond thunder and the songs of birds (which 
 happen to lie in the domain of sound) orchestral Music has little of the 
 resources of the artist's brush. The prime advantage of the Music-Drama 
 is that it allows Music and Painting to wield their powers each in its 
 separate domain — the Music as the exponent of feeling, the Stage as the 
 representative of the visual world. The Music-Drama does not compel 
 any forcing of the arts which enter into it. 
 
 It follows that we need not trouble ourselves about the capacity of 
 Music in itself to excite visual representations, for we have the visual 
 world fully represented on the stage. Further, we have language (in the 
 musical dialogue) as an extra security against the music being misunder- 
 stood in its suggestion of particular emotions. 
 
 The way in which Music may present a particular emotion belongs to the psychology 
 of Music. It will suffice for our purposes to remark that Music directly affects us as 
 
INTKODUGTION. 7 
 
 joyful, or sad, or as expressive of suffering. Now tie emotions may be grouped in. a like 
 manner, those which are associated with pteasure, with sadness, arid with pain. If Music, 
 then, cau directly suggest joyfulness, sadness, and suffering; it has formed a sensuous basis 
 which the other parts of the Stage (aetion, language, and gesture) can determine as a 
 particular emotion. It is not necessary that the Music should excite the emotions of the 
 spectators as the sensational play does— this wouid be detrimental to the whole enjoyment 
 of the Music — it need only suggest the emotions which the actors may be' supposed to 
 experience in the particular situation. Sensational plays and plays in which old religious 
 dissensions are renewed have a tendency to excite the feelings of the audience (pity, 
 indignation, &c). The Style of the Music-Drama neither calls for such intense effects, nor 
 is the Music destined to move to tears. We enjoy hearing mournful Music, and a 'funeral 
 march ' presents the poetical side of death rather than its occasional horrors. Music need 
 not excite the emotions of anger, or hatred, or jealousy in us ; for the purposes of the Music- 
 Drama it is sufficient to suggest such emotions as felt by the actors in the drama (simu- 
 lated) — not ' presentative ' feelings, but re-presentative feelings. 
 
 Although Music cannot really arouse a particular emotion, such as 
 aliger, it may put us in the mood for appreciating this emotion, and therein 
 it agrees with the ' Style ' of the Music-Drama, which is — not to make the 
 spectator himself experience the emotions, but to allow him to look upon 
 others who are (supposed to be) experiencing them. For that matter the 
 actor himself does not really experience the emotions under which he 
 seems to act. The Art of the Stage is re-presentative — that is, it should be 
 something for the audience to contemplate, not to suffer. High Art 
 differentiates itself from real life and from mere melodrama (or sensation- 
 alism) by making the audience ' spectators,' ' contemplators,' of the stage as 
 of a picture, and not as actors in real life. The Stage would be a poor 
 contrivance for high art, if it made us suffer keenly. The suffering is 
 more re-pxesentative — weaker — in the spectator than the actual experiences 
 would be. 
 
 The modern 'melodrama' proposes to actually excite emotions in the spectators' minds 
 (pity, indignation, joy, &c), to excite the feelings of the audience, and often plays upon 
 popular sentiments to this end, such as religious, class, or moral sentiments of a virulent 
 nature. 
 
 Music tends rather to suggest to the audience what the persons of the drama are 
 feeling, or what the actors may be supposed to feel. To show the difference — a mournful 
 piece of music gives us pleasure ; at the same time it suggests the feeling of sadness. 
 
 The object then of this work is to define a Style of the Music-Drama as 
 distinguished from the Stage or Spoken Drama and from the Oratorio 
 and Comic Opera. It is an attempt to show that it is possible through a 
 combination of certain elements of other Arts (such as Music, Painting, 
 Drama) to form a new Art, which shall be different from these Arts, and 
 yet possess a consistency and harmony of parts which entitle it to the 
 term Style. 
 
 The difficulty is to make it clear that the harmony of such * discrete ' 
 factors as Music and Painting absolutely requires the Music-Drama to be 
 different from the spoken Drama, and from Music as an independent Art, for 
 
8 THE STYLE OE THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 the idea prevails that there is no reason why the Music-Drama should essen- 
 tially differ from a play of Ibsen's or from a symphony of Beethoven's. 
 
 The Method. — In order to tell what agreement should exist between the 
 parts we must know the parts. The parts 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., of Division III., 
 pp. 47 to 143, represent the result of an analysis of the Music-Drama 
 sufficiently detailed for our purposes. 
 
 We wish to find what the qualities are of the means of expression 
 employed. To do this we take the predominant characteristics of Music 
 and Drama — the basis of the Music-Drama — and erect these qualities into 
 Canons (A, B, C, D, &o. p. 33). 
 
 We then take these Canons and apply them one by one to each ' part ' 
 (1, 2, 3, &c.) of the Music-Drama, and thus determine what shall be the 
 character of each factor of those means of expression entering into the 
 Music-Drama that their combination will display that intimate harmony 
 of parts for a particular end — Style. 
 
 We intend to deal with the serious side of Drama rather than the light 
 side. The reason is that we are trying to determine a ' Style,' and the 
 Comic is so linked with the (outer) aspects of contemporary life that Style, 
 in the sense in which we shall treat it, is not possible or expedient. Lack 
 of Style is in itself a feature of the Ludicrous. 
 
I. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 NATUEE OF MUSIC-DKAMA IN GENERAL. 
 
 Haying determined the function of Music as the exponent of the ' inner ' 
 Drama, we shall now inquire into the nature of the Poetry which is hest 
 suited to Combine with Music. 
 
 In the first place, Music is an ' idealistic ' element in the combination, 
 that is, orchestral Music is not an accompaniment of any of the dramas 
 of everyday life with which we are familiar, or read about in the daily 
 newspapers. Such a general situation as life with musical accompaniment 
 is wholly unlike everyday life. 
 
 When we are spectators of a Drama on the stage, and listen to the 
 Music of the orchestra, and to musical dialogue, we have a state of affairs, 
 a situation, before us which is purely artificial — which does not obtain in 
 everyday life — is highly unnatural, and may therefore be spoken of as 
 ' ideal.' The ' Style ' of the Music-Drama is perforce idealistic, because 
 one important element is present, Music, which would be entirely absent 
 in real life, inasmuch as our actions in real life are not carried out to the 
 strains of an orchestra. In fact, there is a vast chasm between this arti- 
 ficial combination of stage and orchestra which completely separates the 
 performance from our experiences in our everyday life. This complete 
 removal of the Music-Drama from conditions of everyday life is a most 
 important feature, for it shows us that scenes from our everyday life are 
 wholly unfitted as materials for the Music-Drama. Scenes from contem- 
 porary life cannot move themselves in the artificial atmosphere of orchestral 
 Music. The mind has a sense of the fitness of things which immediately 
 tells us that a physician represented to us singing his directions to the sick 
 lady's servant in a bedroom in modern Paris is absurd — so absurd, that it 
 wholly ruins whatever effect the Music or the Drama by itself might make. 
 Music imposes just as much restraint on the Style of the Drama to which 
 it is joined, as working with pieces of coloured glass imposes on a painter 
 who would attempt to execute a landscape in stained glass. He cannot 
 reproduce the delicacy of Nature with pieces of stained glass two inches 
 sqiiarn. "Rut this imnossibility need not prevent an artist from making a 
 
10 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 beautiful Stained-Glass work, if he will only recognise the restrictions which 
 working in pieces of glass impose on him, and choose some subject more 
 fitted than a landscape to the artificial restrictions of his Mode of Execution. 
 " Fidelity to nature " with threads or strings in ten different Colours is 
 utter nonsense, but &■ beautiful rug may be made well enough with the 
 same materials. So the real composer, although a scene from the Paris 
 bourse or vegetable market, acted and 'sung to the strains of the orchestra, 
 is ridiculous, may still compose a work which is unparalleled in beauty by 
 any scene in everyday life. 
 
 Scenes from contemporary life, have their place as materials for many 
 Arts, but they do not belong to the Music-Drama, in which conversation is 
 replaced by musical dialogue, and the orchestra pervades the whole — 
 embracing word and emotion and action. Thus we see that the action of 
 the Music-Drama should be 'idealistic' in the sense of " removed from the 
 outer aspects of our everyday life." In fact, a glance at the ' actions ' which 
 predominate in operas shows that this has been felt by those who com- 
 piled opera texts. Many subjects are taken from antique sources, like 
 Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice. This serves to throw a glamour of un- 
 familiarity over the stage. Cf. majestic effect of priests' chorus with 
 Egyptian background, of Mozart's Magic Flute. 
 
 The Old Testament has been exploited for some, as in MeTiul's Joseph. 
 History has furnished many subjects, as Wagner's Biehzi, and many works 
 display a historical background, like Meyerbeer's Huguenots. In these 
 cases the 'removal from our everyday life' was attained by going to 
 periods which are far removed from ours in point of time, which means 
 they were different. There is another way of getting away from life as we 
 see it — by removing the scene to a less familiar ' region,' where costumes 
 and customs differ from our own ; gipsy life in Spain, or village life in 
 Sicily (cf. Carmen, Cavatteria, etc.). By these means and others a certain 
 halo of unfamiliarity is cast around the action which is to play under the 
 unnatural conditions of Lyric Dialogue and accompaniment by Orchestral 
 Music. 
 
 Another source of material presents some advantages over the former 
 sources — the myth. Myths are to a great extent already artistic products ; 
 much that is most heroic and beautiful and pathetic has been woven into 
 their fantastic texture. These myths supply a stimulus to the artistic 
 imagination which no longer works as freely as the fancy worked in the 
 days when it was not trammelled by the accurate knowledge of Nature's 
 laws. In using the myth the artist frees himself from all those trammels* 
 which are imposed by Science and History, which very much endanger the 
 historical plot and make it difficult to adapt to musical treatment. With 
 myths tbe poet is not obliged to slavishly follow historical data. He is ruler 
 over his materials, and can dispose them for pure artistic ends, without any 
 fear of wounding sticklers for historical accuracy. Again, he is freed from 
 
NATURE OF MUSIO-DEAMA IN GENERAL. 11 
 
 all the political paraphernalia which accompany historical characters and 
 times. He is freed from all those troublesome religious questions which 
 are liable to touch the various religious devotees in the audience. He can 
 avoid bringing before an audience of mixed religious opinions the trouble- 
 some times in which Christian was pitted against Christian — times which 
 are so near to our own as regards the questions that the very memory of 
 them excites bitterness. He need not worry the auditor's mind with 
 disentangling complex social conditions and relations and testing their 
 justness or their historical validity. 
 
 We may look at these characteristics of an action not derived from 
 history in another light : an art work which presents life, and yet life in 
 the ' artificial atmosphere ' of Music, must not challenge the keen criticism 
 of those who know life as it actually is. By removing the life so far from 
 its everyday appearances that no comparison is suggested, the spectator is 
 thrown off his guard, and forgets for the moment to exercise his critical 
 weapons. A 'lion rampant' in crimson on wall paper would hardly 
 excite the critical faculties of the keenest African traveller. The object 
 of the Music-Drama is not to excite the question, " Did these particular 
 events ever happen in reality ? " but. rather to excite the feeling, " How 
 beautiful it is that things are happening as they are in the scenes before 
 me!" 
 
 It is remarkable how keen our 'critical spirit' is with respect to 
 Naturalism of outer aspects of life. It is not until the mind has been com- 
 pletely dispossessed of the idea that it is observing a natural occurrence, 
 or what proposes to represent such an occurrence, that it renounces its 
 spirit of fault-finding. The vividness with which coarse mosaic-work 
 displays to the eye its fragmentary nature and mode of execution is hardly 
 sufficient at times to prevent the popular mind from drawing depreciatory 
 comparisons between the design and natural objects. From day to day 
 our eyes and minds become practised in the detection of slight differences 
 (underlies the recognition of a person's face among a great crowd of faces !), 
 and this practice is almost sure to react upon art- works. Notice our 
 keenness with regard to an ' out-of-style ' detail of dress (men's hats, etc., 
 or last year's bonnet, and of the costumes of photographs a few years old, 
 and illustrations in old magazines) : yet it is largely governed by con- 
 vention, for it solemnly swallows the poetic diction of the letter (post-mark 
 Switzerland ?) with which Lord Lytton opens his novel in rhyme, Luciie 
 (notice that the signature even rhymes). Cf. Scott's Lady of the Lake, the 
 description of the maid and her subsequent language when first she speaks. 
 Is this the effect of the novelist ? Contrast the general situation proposed 
 by Shelley's Prometheus as a whole with that almost modern ' setting ' of 
 Tennyson's Princess. 
 
 It seems possible that this very point of Style, consisting partly in 
 choice of subject-matter, will serve to explain the almost universal uneven- 
 
12 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 ness of merit in the various works of a modern poet. Sometimes subject- 
 matter, general situation, and diction coincide, at other times they do not ; 
 and hence the ups and downs in the complete works of a poet. 
 
 The Music-Drama should not propose reality (imitative) as its object ; 
 it cannot, for the situation of vocal dialogue and orchestral accompaniment 
 is highly unreal from the very start. Therefore it should seek to make 
 wings of its fetters, and devote itself especially to the beautiful rather than 
 the unpleasing. Here we jsee one reason for severely avoiding History. 
 History does not 'make itself' to be beautiful. 
 
 To Wagner's recourse to myths we do not merely owe a few novel plots for ' librettos,' 
 we owe an attempt at a ' Style ' in the Music-Drama, viz. the one combination of Music 
 with Drama which is possible, under the condition of perfect harmony. Through recourse 
 to the myth he was led to see what others had not seen — that the dramatic basis of the 
 Music-Drama must differ from that of a spoken drama. This was what was wanting — a 
 style of Drama differing from that of Drama familiar to us as a separate (independent) 
 Art. Wagner might have created his works new perhaps, without reference to myths, but 
 his 'creations' in their 'musical nature' would have been like those he wrote at the 
 instigation of myths. 
 
 Mythology was not a mere novel resource for opera texts ; it was an artistic stimulus 
 to the ideal region which Music required. Wagner's recourse to mythology was not a 
 mere episodical procedure, it was intensely and intrinsically associated with the possibility 
 of creating a ' Style ' for the Music-Drama. 
 
 It may be asked, why so much time spent on the Style of the dramatic part ? — cer- 
 tainly if this were important musicians would have felt it. Well, perhaps they did feel it 
 — Beethoven perhaps keenly. There seem to be indications in the music to Fidelia that 
 he was much troubled by this very point. In the case of some composers it may have 
 been felt without any clear consciousness of the cause. At any rate, its lessons are not 
 being realised to-day even, in the operas that are being produced. 
 
 Music and Drama had become so highly differentiated from one 
 another that the dramatist who made the libretto for the musician had no 
 idea that he ought to make anything different from what he was used to in 
 the spoken Drama. Not being a musician he had no feeling for that which 
 is fitted to the nature of Music. The musician was impotent, for he was 
 obliged to rely on the librettist for his dramatic stimulus. Moreover, he 
 was prevented from developing his own real resources which he might 
 have done with the proper stimulus and method. 
 
 Wagner's advantage was that he was at one and the same time composer and dramatist. 
 Therefore Music had a chance to react on the kind of Drama which he chose. Both factors 
 were brought into actual contact in one mind. 
 
 His recourse to myth must not be looked upon as a mere capricious recourse to materials 
 such as his choice of Bulwer Lytton's Bienzi, or any other subject-matter from history. 
 It was the choice of that which was intensely fitted to the nature of Music in so far as 
 it could be digested by Wagner for his own purposes. It was not a mere ' fount ' such 
 as History is for the historical novel. Here is Wagner's own testimony : — 
 
 " Wagner's point of departure had been Music ; but when Music had become for him 
 a means of expression of which he was complete master, as we have said, he became 
 above all — poet. After that his principal object was to complete that which a musical 
 conception presents vaguely and evasively. 
 
NATURE OF MUSIC-DRAMA IN GENERAL. 13 
 
 " ' Whoever,' says Wagner, ' observes attentively my three first poems, will see that that 
 which, in the Fliegende Hollander is only indicated by a very distant and vague contour, 
 assumes in Tannhduser, and finally in Lohengrin, a more and more precise determination, 
 a form more and more sure. Acquiring thus the \ ower to deal more and more with real 
 life, I would at last, and under certain circumstances, have come to the point where 
 such a subject as Barbarosxa [Frederick I.] would have presented itself to me, such that 
 it would have obliged me to renounce a musical form of expression. But it was just here 
 that 1 arrived at the consciousness of the artistic necessity of procedure which till that 
 time I had employed unconsciously. In fact, that subject which would have compelled 
 me to entirely forget Music taught me to recognise that which constitutes the real poetical 
 subject ; for 1 felt sure that there where I should have been obliged to leave my musical 
 faculties unemployed, it would also have been necessary to subordinate to political abstrac- 
 tions the poetical faculties which I had acquired, and consequently deny my artistic nature 
 in general. And it was at exactly the same time that objective events made me recognise 
 the opposition which exists between the historico-political life and that which flows from 
 pure human nature. Thus, when fully conscious of the reason, and wholly voluntarily, 
 I abandoned Frederick, for which I was more nourished by the political life than I ever 
 was, and undertook Siegfried, to make more exactly and with more surety that which I 
 wished, I entered into a new and definite development of artist and man : that (period) of 
 the conscious will of pursuing a completely new way, into which 1 had entered, impelled 
 by an unconscious necessity, and which led mp, as man and as artist, towards a new world.' " 
 Translated from Nouflard, ' Wagner iVapres lui-merne,' vol. i. p. 265. 
 
 This displays, in Wagner's own words, the course of his development towards his 
 great ideal. From Rienzi to Rheingold or Siegfried is a great change, both poetically 
 and musically. The repudiation of the historico-political drama for the drama founded 
 on pure m\ th was a very important step. A historical plot is almost sure to suggest the 
 idea of reality — therefore it is unfitted to Music. The way in which the idea that a plot 
 is ' historical ' affects the mind may be observed in the way novtk are approached by the 
 average n ader. P& >ple like a ' historical ' romance because " it is real." To denominate a 
 plot as * historical ' is to give a voucher for the ' reality ' of the aotion. The reader is led 
 to feel that he is hearing events related as they actually occurred, and hence he may 
 believe more strongly in the narrative than if it proposed to be no more than poetic fancy. 
 But the disadvantage of such an attitude towards the Music-Drama is that the critical 
 spirit of the listener is aroused, and the- drama is obliged to conform tcrthe natural laws 
 which belief demands from' that which- proposes to present an accurate imitation of actual 
 life. The attentim of the micd is thereby called to the falsity of the situation of a 
 historical action accompanied by Music (which was not present in the real evenis nor in 
 the novel founded upon them), as well as to any poetical flights which the dramatist may 
 have allowed himself. We feel sure that Henry VIII. did not emnloy musical dialogue, 
 and, farther, that any ideally beautiful situations did not belong to the actual life in which 
 he played H- part. Likewise, the historical character Rienzi can hardly pose before us as 
 < mploying a musical diction in his daily life. 
 
 The uiadnal determination of the prjper field for Poetry that took place in Wagner's 
 mind is very ii teresting, for it was due to his musical capabilities, which, like a 'good 
 angel purified his taste from -false ideals.' However, unlyrical Poetry will probably continue 
 to flourish — didactic poetry, rhymed prose and ' occasional ' poetry — and, for aught we can 
 help, bad 'ballad' Music also. Cf. narrational Betsy of popular songs and recitations, 
 which narrate some hairbreadth escape or victory of good over evil. The foregoing con- 
 siderations regarding subject-matter as an important feature of Poetry apply, not only to 
 the Music-Drama, but to Poetry in general, and very seriously to latter-day poetry in 
 gf neral. 
 
 (Cf. the difficulties of the modern painter in treating historical scenes, battles, etc. Note 
 aleo how difficult it is not to awaken ill-feelings on the part of the spectators towards 
 pictures of the doings of a man as near us as Napoleon. Also the difficulties of the 
 narrative poet in treating such subjects.) 
 
14 THE STYLE OE THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 Higher Realism, i.e. the vividness of real occurrences in an idealistic 
 sphere. — The degree of reality which we demand from a work of art 
 depends largely upon our attitude towards the work. If the work proposes 
 to present an imitation of a natural object, it thereby challenges our 
 attitude of keen criticism towards the degree of accuracy of imitation 
 attained by the work. (Cf. the ' Small Arts.') 
 
 But if it be understood that a work of art does not propose to imitate 
 a natural object, but to present some poetic fancy, then our judgment of 
 the imitative accuracy is not called for, and we are left free to enjoy the 
 impressions of the poetic fancy. In this respect the work of art may be 
 compared to a beautiful dream. We do not find fault with it because it 
 was not an accurate imitation of the play of cause and effect which we are 
 accustomed to in our waking life. In fact the kind of belief which the 
 work of art calls for may be illustrated by the dream. While we are dream- 
 ing we may believe firmly in the reality of the visions which pass before us, 
 although the order of these states of consciousness be entirely opposed to 
 the order of our sensations while awake. So the work of art may not 
 demand that we should believe it presents something which actually 
 happened at some past date, but only that we should vividly experience 
 the present reality of the work as a work of art. Here we may recognise 
 the efficiency of Music in adding to the present reality of the work before 
 us. Music insures our belief by adding to the visual and other sensations 
 its own vivid sensations. Music is pre-eminently an intensely vivid and 
 impelling stimulus. It forcibly attacks the ear and compels the attention 
 of the mind by its vividly present and monopolising character. Like the 
 dream, Music so monopolises the field of attention by its vivid sensations 
 that the mind is prevented from criticising the reality of the visions 
 presented to it. The Music-Drama, then, must evade the criticism of 
 non-conformity to -actual life by not proposing to present an imitation of 
 the familiar aspects of life, and by making the sense-impressions of the 
 spectator as vivid and engaging as possible. 
 
 It may be insinuated that, if the Music-Drama is such an artificial 
 compound that it cannot imitate accurately the aspects of everyday life, 
 then it cannot affect us. In this assertion the fact is overlooked that the 
 emotions are real ones, although the accompaniments of the actions and 
 outer aspects are not like those we are familiar with. The identity of the 
 emotions serves to connect us with forms of the past, in whatever dress 
 they may be presented, and with the artistic creations of the past. We 
 have already shown how the power of Drama may be intensified by the 
 addition of Music ; we have seen how Music which pretends to anything 
 like expressing distinct emotions is not only aided by the presence of the 
 Stage, but absolutely requires it. 
 
 The difficulty in the Music-Drama is that the Music requires Idealism, the Drama a 
 certain amount of reality. The ' Opera ' erred in having a realistic plot (opposed to Music) 
 
NATURE OF MUSIC-DRAMA IN GENERAL. 5 
 
 and unnatural expression (opposed to the Drama). It was neither one nnr the other. It 
 often presented the outer aspects of everyday life, but the Music b*lied their reality. The 
 Spoken Drama can be more realistic since it can employ ordinary speech for its dialogue. 
 
 The miraculous has its place in Art whenever art-works do not propose to present an 
 imitation of real life, but an idealistic action. However, the objectively miraculous ought 
 to be symbolical, as the poising of the spear over the head of Parsifal (as the victor over 
 temptation — now able to wield supernatural strength). 
 
 A religious plot may spontaneously require miracle. See the admirable instance of the 
 growth of the Pope's staff in Tannhauser. God forgave by a miracle what the Pope con- 
 demned by that very staff. Likewise the Grail, Parsifal, Lohengrin. 
 
 In a certain sense there are miracles happening every day : cf. the case of Elizabeth 
 ( Tannhauser, ii. sc. 2). To demonstrate 'cause and effect' in phenomena does not 
 obliterate the miraculous, for we do not know why the effect is the result of the cause 
 which lies hetween the cause and the effect. In modern science we record a bond between 
 two phenomena of that nature that they never occur apart. But why one is so bound by 
 the other is just as much a mystery as ever. It is a most remarkab!e/oci that, when we 
 have observed a phenomenon a number of times, we seem to understand it. That feeling 
 of contempt which results when we feel a surety about the phenomena is like that which 
 results when we say we know a thing or ' understand' it. It is' thus with the falling of a 
 stone. But the miracle is still there as far as explanation is concerned, although the 
 phenomenon seems perfectly clear to us. Is it not a most startling thing that, whereas 
 in our whole experience we have been used to a body moving only when moved by some 
 other body, that here, or anywhere on the earth's surface, any body unsustaintd begins 
 to move towards the earth of its own accord, and yet we can trace no solid medium (like 
 air) blowing it towards the earth ? So when Wagner is criticised for employing the legend, 
 on the plea that we of the nineteenth century can have no ' feeling ' where miracles are 
 concerned, simply shows that we do not recognise the real miraculousness of those pheno- 
 mena which Wagner merely symbolises in a purely miraculous phenomenon, as the ' cup' in 
 Tristan, which merely enforces a phenomenon which, though 'natural,' ought to he 
 astounding, did we not become blunted to the familiar. 
 
 As regards the possibility of a modern poet dealing with the miraculous, the Jason 
 of William Morris and the works of Wagner may be mentioned, and the following quota- 
 tion from Philip Gilbert Hamerton will hold both for poet and spectator of Music-Drama, 
 although originally relating to the altitude of painters towards religious subjects. 
 
 " There is belief enough here for the purposes of arts, and the vividness of the poetic 
 faith is repeatedly proved by the poet's vision of the 'holy thing' on those very rare 
 occasions when it appears to the most pure. Even a creed of this poetical kind contains 
 a strong element of sincerity. The modern thinker is not remote from ancestors who 
 thoroughly believed in supernatural visitations : he inherits a strong tendency to believe 
 which is checked by scientific severity concerning evidence. This severity cin only be 
 agreeable to the most disciplined intellects, and it is agreeable even to them only in their 
 hours of self-restraint. Poetry and painting come to them as a deliverance from Science, 
 and from the terrible absolutism of regularity that pervades all natural laws. , They give 
 liberty to the imagination, and the most frequent use that it makes of this liberty is to 
 fly back instinctively to an earlier time, and make itself young again." 
 
 The very height of ' Idealism ' would be the purely supernatural Drama 
 made up of ' miraculous ' situations throughout. But just in this complete 
 removal from the conditions of ordinary life it ceases to accord with the 
 condition, imposed by ' emotional * Music, that it should be emotional. It 
 might satisfy our demand for pictorial beauty, but it would fail to interest 
 our dramatic spirit, which requires emotional threads like those with which 
 we are familiar. The capacity of Music for emotional expression would be 
 
16 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 sacrificed, and the absorbing dramatic element of the situations would be 
 lacking. Here we^are met again by the fitness of a combination of Music 
 with Dramatic Poetry. The most fanciful fairy tale even does not renounce 
 some agreement with the natural impulses of human beings. The Music- 
 Drama requires unfamiliarity in outward aspects of life only, not in the 
 emotions entering into the ' inner ' development of the Drama. (Cf. p. 14.) 
 
 Sculpture is an instance of an 'imitative' Art which, to a great extent, avoids the 
 imitation of the outward aspects of everyday life, and gams in beauty thereby. It also 
 chooses particular phases of life— like the reposeful attitude of the statue as opposed 
 to ' action ' represented in a paintiDg or bas-relief, or in a sensational ' group. Cf. 
 nautical and military sensationalism in statuary and bas-relief, particularly in modern 
 tomb-sculpture in St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey. 
 
 The pediment of a Grecian Temple is an instance of Idealism in the above sense. The 
 disposition of figures is subordinated to the shape of the enclosing ' frame ' which is deter- 
 mined by the Architecture, not by Sculpture, or the conditions of everyday life. Consider 
 also the effect of crinoline sculptured, or the silk hat in a bust. Try to imagine vividly 
 a long row of ' Atlanta ' supporting an entablature upon chimney-pot hats, and other- 
 wise dressed in moder.i street costume. Good existing subjects for testing such effects 
 are displayed in Italian cemeteries (Genoa, &c), where skirts with frills and lace are 
 painstakingly reproduced in marble. Note also that good Sculpture does not attempt 
 in detail the representation of hair. It can also renounce any attempts at naturalistic 
 ' tinting.' In fact, much more about the Style of the Music-Drama can be learned from 
 Sculpture than from Painting, or from the modern genre-stage. 
 
 We do not cast iron stoves in the form of a man, although a stove in human form 
 might be heralded as one of the ' striking novelties ' of modern Art, and applauded by the 
 critics as displaying ' wonderful anatomy ' and ' absolute fidelity to Nature.' 
 
 Draw a contrast between the designs of flags in the Middle Ages, and the attempted 
 Naturalism of the coats-of-arms of the various States composing the United States of 
 America (represented in a page of woodcuts appended to the American edition of Webster's 
 Dictionary), and you will appreciate this phase of justifiable " unnaturalness " in some 
 arts. Coins and medals sometimes display absurd attempts at landscape painting and 
 perspective. 
 
 There are two great fields that Art-effort cultivates. Taking the Arts 
 in their totality they display two great methods by which man seeks to 
 gratify certain tastes. Some kinds of art- works represent something existing 
 outside of themselves in nature or human life. Other kinds of art-works 
 present something pleasing in themselves. In this difference between repre- 
 sentation and presentation lies a ' dramatic moment ' for Art. The basis of the 
 differentiation of activity lies in the differences between the material and 
 psychical means and qualities of the Arts whereby one Art is fitted for the 
 activity of representing and another of presenting. At the two extremes 
 lie the realistic novel and genre-play on the one hand, and mosaic-work, 
 stained glass, textiles, Architecture, and Music on the other hand. There 
 are some Arts which are somewhat intermediate. Music, strangely 
 enough, is capable of touching both fields to a limited extent, inasmuch as 
 it can cultivate the purely presentative- field in formal Music, and the 
 quasi-representative field in arousing mental images derived from life and 
 nature. 
 
NATURE OF MUSIC-DRAMA. IN GENERAE. 17 
 
 Music does not render Tragedy stronger perhaps, but it is a most 
 admirable device for rendering it more beautiful, more pleasant. But just 
 as the * religious subject ' has served painters as a means of getting away 
 from realistic criticism to an ideal region where they were master, and 
 could make costumes, faces, etc, as beautiful as they liked, without exciting 
 adverse criticism on grounds of imitative naturalism or terrestrial pro- 
 bability, so the Style of Drama required for the Music-Drama, is that of 
 the myth or ideal action, with its corresponding setting, etc. 
 
 Architecture is a good example of an Art which strives to attain beautiful and noble 
 effects, without striving for melodramatic intensity, or any 'deceptive' imitation of the 
 aspects of human life. Some such example is needed to make clear to us how an art- 
 work may be beautiful without overcoming us through dramatic intensity. The Music- 
 Drama differentiates itself from independent Drama, by the inclusion of the effects of two 
 Arts, Music and Fainting, which are pre-eminently Arts of simple sensuous beauty. The 
 Style of the Music-Drama, therefore, will partake of the qualities of these included ele- 
 ments : it will be less emotionally intense than that of independent Drama, but it will 
 be more sensuously beautiful and exalted. Being compulsorily removed from intensely 
 fixing our interest on its dramatic element by its necessity of renouncing Naturalism, it 
 should seek its recompense in cultivating the qualities which render it peculiar and pre- 
 eminent — its musical and pictorial character. 
 
 A Grecian temple might have been rendered more dramatic by making each column 
 represent a dying gladiator, or a moribund Amazon, but it seems unlikely that the gain 
 in dramatic intensity would have excelled the effect of the pure, formal beauty of the 
 temple with Doric columns. Many a modern machine-made rug would be more beautiful, 
 were it less dramatic. 
 
 It will be seen from this what is meant by ' Style ' in general. Style is the perfect 
 agreement or harmony for a sertain end between the parts of a work of art. 
 
 Thus in the 'Doric' Style of Grecian Architecture, all the constructive and decorative 
 features are in such harmony, that no one of them can be replaced by some corresponding 
 feature of the ' Gothic ' Style without injuring the effect, 
 
 ' Realistic ' Drama and the Music-Drama aim at two different general 
 effects. The spectator ' enters into ' the realistic Drama — it is absorbing 
 in its dramatic interest, it is exciting. The Music of the Music-Drama 
 adds a sensuously pleasing factor which leads it to be listened to more for 
 its own sake than for the sake of what it represents. As a general rule 
 in Art, the more an art-work becomes directly ' presentative ' in its nature, 
 the more it is looked at for itself aside from that which it may represent- 
 In other words ; Music can make a drama more beautiful — more pleasant 
 by its continual presence — but the only hind of drama that will tolerate 
 being rendered more pleasant is one of an idealistic nature (such as 
 mythical actions, etc.). Such can be rendered as beautiful as possible 
 without making them ridiculous. The fault of the Italian composers of 
 operas was not in writing so sweetly, so simply, but that they did not hav& 
 an action for their dramas which allowed this — they were dealing with a 
 realistic form of Drama, often with the most appalling and thrilling events 
 imitated from our modern life. (Cf. Verdi's Traviata.) 
 
 It is strange that Music can make a drama which is already ideal, still 
 
 
 
18 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 more ideal, by snatching the lohole'worh from adverse criticism according to 
 everyday models of life as we see it. The very presence of such an 
 artificial element as Music totally disarms the mind, so that the whole 
 work is snatched from the jaws of the adverse criticism which snaps at 
 every detail of dress and manner that presents itself in the guise which 
 the mind is accustomed, to in everyday life. Our devouring eye samples 
 everything which passes before it, and subjects it to an inexorable judg- 
 ment, according to the fashion, viz., to that which it is used to. The cut 
 of the trousers or the shape of the stiff hat — one glance is capable- of 
 condemning both features (and individual !). But put actors in dresses 
 which We are hot used to, like those worn a thousand years or more ago, 
 and the eye is disarmed, criticism of. minutiae in ' cut ' is not challenged, 
 for we lack the criterion in our mind's eye, as well as the gnawing motive 
 to criticise. (Cf. effect of employment of archaic words in Poetry, p. 124.) 
 
 Some of the chief faults of the works of poets as a whole may be attri- 
 buted to. the fact that some poets were masters of the exalted diction without 
 being able to create the exalted basis (action) for their diction ; others 
 were able to create the exalted conceptions without being able to forge 
 a style exalted enough to express them properly. Many a * poet ' would 
 find prose quite adequate to express all his conceptions quite fittingly, 
 and many a prose writer might give the world the full enjoyment of his 
 lofty conceptions were he able to frame them in fitting language. 
 
 Now it is possible that the best poet in both respects might reach a 
 limit where words would be too coarse to express the meaning. Schura 
 remarks that many parts of Goethe's Faust demand Music for their full 
 completeness ; especially the ending of the second part where an ideal 
 region of thought is reached that cannot be expressed in words. The 
 superiority of Music over words may perhaps be attributed to the essential 
 differences between Music and Language. The employment of words to 
 convey ideas pre-supposes something to be expressed lying within the field 
 of expressibility covered by language. But language withal has been 
 developed in deference to other ends than Poetry, in fact poetical applica- 
 tion of language may be said to be a parasitical application of an instru- 
 ment (speech) designed for other ends (pre-eminently practical ends). 
 Now the very nature of the highly ideal in Poetry is that it so far departs 
 from the subject-matter of the real world that there is a very flimsy basis 
 for expression in words (predominantly designed for the expression of the 
 concrete and real world). Hence language fails in dealing with the trans- 
 cendentally sensuous. (A simile for this is the undefined character dis- 
 played by words in Philosophy expressing very general ideas.) Especially 
 is the impotence of expression of language felt in respect of emotions. 
 Withal the field of language as a whole has come to be the expression of 
 relations among things, etc. But an emotion in itself presents a certain 
 hsffisgeneoua character that is hardly to-be expressed in terms of relations. 
 A look, a gesture, a movement- a modulation in the voice, may express an 
 
NATURE OF MUSIC-DRAMA IN GENERAL. 19 
 
 emotion better than complex articulation of sounds in words. In the 
 matter of higher emotions, their subtlety transcends language and we seek 
 refuge in Music almost spontaneously. In fact, speech under the influence 
 of strong emotion may become utterly unintelligible (cf. inarticulate 
 exclamations under stress of strong feeling, and disastrous effect of strong 
 excitement upon a ' set-piece,' and, on the other hand, the predominance 
 of the 'grammatical' element where no emotion is at stake, as in a 
 scientific treatise). What we feel is often not comparable to anything 
 which we see or reason about. Efforts to embody the highest ideas of God 
 or beauty in language often end in no more than indefinite sensuous sug- 
 gestions. Now Music partakes of these two characters, it is far removed 
 from the concrete experiences of everyday life, and vague sensuous or 
 emotional suggestiveness is its field rather than ratiocination. Often that 
 which the artist or poet suspicions is far too vague and emotional to form 
 the basis for clear intellectual realisation, or well defined lingual expression. 
 Some language is needed to express those vague feelings that transcend 
 concrete experience or the clear conception of ' relations/ Like the highest 
 generalisations of Philosophy — " matter," " motion," " God," etc., they are 
 inconceivable. But Music offers an adapted mode of expressing the 
 shadowy intuitions of a deeply and finely emotional soul. There is hardly 
 any limit to the vague suggestive power of Music. Its very disability in the 
 matter of expressing definite concrete ideas with great security for a large 
 number of people is its power in the possibilities of vague suggestions. 
 
 " The meaning of song goes deep. Who is there that in logical words can express the 
 effect Music has upon us ? A kind of inarticulate, unfathomable speech which leads us 
 to the edge of the infinite, and lets us for moments gaze into that." — Carlyh. 
 
 The Music-Drama is especially fitted to deal with the loftier themes of 
 man, whereas it is excelled by some other Arts in respect to capacity of 
 dealing with the more commonplace traits. Hence the Music-Drama 
 should occupy itself especially with the highest — the loftiest works of the 
 phantasy ; it should propose to shine as a high Art rather than as a Genre- 
 Art merely, or as one of the ' Small Arts.' (Cf. Quality, B, p. 25.) 
 
 It is as if a sculptor has an exceedingly large and beautiful block of 
 marble on which to exercise his skill. Shall he waste the material on a 
 subject which is merely ' pretty ' ? or shall he not rather take a subject which 
 is more worthy of such a material — a grand and lofty conception, a noble 
 figure, dignified, expressrreof all that is highest and most godlike in man, 
 the body displaying physical beauty, the countenance reflecting the nobility 
 and intellectual power of the mind governing it ? 
 
 Thus we augment our idea of the Style of the Music-Drama by two 
 ideas: — (1) Unlikeness to the outer aspects of our everyday life; and 
 (2) pre-eminently a lofty Art. These will be enlarged upon in the following 
 pages. For this purpose we first need a more detailed and definite idea of 
 the qualities of Music than that divulged in this chapter. 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE STYLE^OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 
 
 D Music is perhaps the most artificial of all the Arts, viz. it does not, as 
 Pictures and Drama do, base itself on any of the outer aspects of life. 
 It has no prototype in Nature, such as Painting, Sculpture, Drama and 
 Poetry have, nor, like Architecture, is it essentially associated with the 
 iiseful. It is pre-eminently a purely human fiction, and is not designed 
 to imitate the outer appearances of Nature. A very good Art to compare 
 Music to (in the matter of artificiality) is the purely decorative employment 
 of colours. A single note may be compared to a single coloured space, a 
 chord to a harmonious disposition of different colours. Modern orchestral 
 Music is parasitical on the nature of our sense of hearing, and has no 
 essential connection with the outer aspects of Nature. It is interesting to 
 view Music in this extreme artificial contrast with other Arts, because we 
 can then see the difficulties offered by a compound-art that proposes to 
 unite Music with an Art — the Stage — which is most palpably founded 
 on the aspects of life and nature. We can then appreciate why the 
 Music-Drama as. a separate Art has had such a struggle to unite the 
 disparate Arts upon which it is founded — to found a Style — a harmonious 
 union. 
 
 Music stands alone among the Arts, and this is perhaps why it is 
 capable of achieving some effects better than other Arts can. Music is 
 said to be the moat ideal Art. It is the furthest removed from objective 
 nature. Aside from a few semi-naturalistic imitations of phenomena like 
 thunder or the shriek of a human voice, the harmonies and melodies of 
 Music are entirely foreign to the auricular experiences even of everyday 
 life. Far from the ' imitative ' Arts, Music revels in an artificial region of 
 its own. The pictorial artist copies — or more or less distantly takes his 
 ideas from— natural objects. Even the decorative artist touches nature 
 when he derives his motif for ornament from natural objects, and a great 
 deal of non-naturalistic decoration has been referred in its origin to the 
 development of one-time semblances of natural objects. But the composer 
 of Music has few direct suggestions in nature of the harmonies and 
 melodies which arise in his mind. (Were it otherwise, how much easier 
 it would be for some composers to compose !) The vast mineral kingdom 
 grovels in silence. Sound in the vegetable kingdom is largely sporadic. 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 31 
 
 * Conceptions ' have no audible qualities. For audible qualities, we naturally 
 turn to animals. Lions roar, monkeys chatter, parrots squall, cats miauw, 
 rooks caw, bees hum, and birds chirp and warble, etc But Music really 
 does none of these things. To speak of birds 'singing' is .to employ P 
 
 * singing ' in a very metaphorical sense, for there is little of this singing 
 that is reconcilable with modern orchestral Music. Musical composition 
 is a singularly human activity ; and the result is a highly artificial 
 product, 
 
 Sound, in its removal from our everyday life of perception, may be 
 compared to the sense of smell. "We can say very little about a fragrance, 
 although the sensation may be very distinct, very delicate, and give us 
 extreme gratification. The sensations in both cases may monopolise 
 attention without having any life-preserving function. In fact, as com- 
 pared with the lower animals in the matter of life-preserving functions, 
 man has largely elated the sense of sight and allowed the senses of hearing 
 and smell to become rudimentary in their activity. Likewise the Art of 
 Music has not the utilitarian implications of Architecture or of the Small 
 Arts. Even the mode of creation in musical composing betrays the 
 extremely artificial character of Music as compared with the other Arts. 
 The painter and sculptor are largely concerned in producing what has already 
 appeared to them from their contemplation of Nature. The composei', on 
 the contrary, evokes harmonies and melodies from his head, having abso- 
 lutely no model in Nature. His product — Music — is truly a creation. 
 Music, taken in its total development, is more truly a product of pure mental 
 activity than any of the Arts. Perhaps this is why its higher development 
 was so tardy. Forms, shapes, distances, colours and tastes we are ever 
 and all familiar with in the life-preserving activities of everyday life. 
 But the realm of artificial sounds and their combinations — the sphere 
 of harmony and melody — is intensely ideal, viz. artificial — removed from 
 the outer aspects of contemporary life. 
 
 The sensations aroused by listening to Music are as far separated from 
 that which pertains to the intellect as an emotion is from intellectual 
 activity. The antithesis between the visible world and the world of sound 
 may be strikingly compared to that antithesis which exists between the 
 world of the intellect and the world of emotions. It is probably upon this D 
 analogous antithesis that Schopenhauer's theory of the nature of Music is 
 based, and it deserves a more detailed examination. 
 
 If the ' Imitative Arts ' arouse the emotions, or suggest emotions, it is 
 by symbols derived from the external world. The mind of the spectator 
 (cf. Painting) is compelled to infer the emotion from its objective 
 suggestion, as from a grouping of objects, ox a gesture, or an expression 
 represented; in somewhat the same way "as we infer 'a- body-' by contem- 
 plating a surface, we infer emotion from contemplating its natural circum- 
 stances. Likewise in. Dramatic Art : the language employed is a symbol 
 
22 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 merely, which requires the intervention of the intellect for its interpreta- 
 tion, and consequently suffers some diminution of force therein. But 
 Music appeals almost directly to the emotions, for it is ' presentativie ' as 
 D an Art, and requires no intellectual interpretation such as that called for 
 by language. Thus in Philosophy — the Pictorial and Plastic Arts have 
 been looked upon as the phenomena of emotion, while Music was viewed as 
 the 'noumenon' — as emotion itself. "Music gives us the germ of life 
 without the forma of its appearance, the passions without their causal 
 motives, Nature without covering." The eye perceives, not only colour, 
 but also forms, size, location, shape, texture, etc. 
 
 In looking at the actors on a stage, and the scenery, our intellects are 
 busied in the interpretation of the actions and conformations, expressions, 
 etc.,. that we see. But those outward actions are not to be confounded 
 with the sentiments and emotions underlying them, of which the actors 
 are conscious in their minds. If we wished to find a representation of 
 these emotions as distinguished frornjthe physical facts (configurations of 
 matter, and changes thereof), which, we see, we might well find the desired 
 antithetical representative in Music, which does not affect the eye at all, 
 nor does it appeal to the mind by the activity of the intellect, but is a dis- 
 tinct sensation, and a sensation which is so foreign to the impressions of 
 everyday life, that it does not suggest the world of sights and scenes, but 
 the entirely different world of feelings, of states of consciousness in which 
 there are no dimensions concerned, no time measurements, and so very far 
 removed from the processes of reasoning. We must see clearly that 
 emotions have no objective existence which can be apprehended by us — that 
 emotions are not " objects/' that they are wholly unlike the " things which 
 we see," although they may be excited thereby. " The feelings as emo- 
 tions," are confined to the mind (to the organ of mind, the brain ?), and 
 cannot be seen by others directly, although the " feelings " of a person may 
 be inferred or deduced by another person from the actions of the person, 
 provided such actions are like those which have been by experience found 
 to be associated with certain emotions. " Sights " being then the aspects 
 in which everyday life presents itself to us, and emotions being entirely a 
 hidden or an " inner life," if we would express these emotions in their 
 most peculiar form to other persons, we should preserve their ideal, hidden 
 or inner character, and Music is excellently adapted to this purpose, for 
 Music cannot be seen, is unreal ox ideal, in the sense that it does not enter 
 into Nature, or into life without Art, and hence it preserves 'that .peculiar 
 character which makes it a fit representative of feelings. Music is certainly 
 more like the feelings of the mind than muscular contractions are, viz. : 
 Music is a better mode of informing the minds of the audience of the 
 emotions Which the minds of the actors are experiencing, than anything 
 the actors may do that the audience can see, ie. is visible. (Cf. reference 
 to Verdi's Otello on p. 4.) 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 23 
 
 It is absolutely necessary to recognise the difference between emotions and ' percep- 
 tions ' ; we transfer our sensations of form, colour, etc., to something outside of us, and 
 predicate a world of objects which would exist if we were absent, or all human life even 
 ceased to exist. But we recognise that " feelings " or emotions are something peculiarly 
 human, inasmuch as they are conditioned by the existence of a feeling subject. We are 
 not necessary to the objective existence of the inorganic world, but we are necessary to 
 the existence of subjective or mental processes such as emotions or acts of volition. On 
 the other hand, we picture the emotions as capable of being felt in the absence of the 
 world of objects. 
 
 Music on the part of the hearer is made up of sensations, as acting is made up of sensa- 
 tions (on the part of the audience) ; but the sensations of Music differ from the sensations 
 of the eye from the objective world, to an extent corresponding to the difference between 
 the world of visual sensations and the ' inner world ' of emotions. We have only to repre- 
 sent by a mental effort, ' sensations ' and ' emotions,' to recognise how entirely different the 
 two divisions of mental activity are, and we are always conscious of the existence of a 
 world of objects which is outside of ourselves, and equally conscious of the inner world of 
 emotions which we alone feel, and which have no existence outside of ourselves (i.e. out- 
 side of our minds). This is the way in which the world seems to present itself to us. 
 Whether such a view is philosophically tenable does not enter into the case. 
 
 Again, consider the world of " will." We recognisp how different the 
 act of volition is from either feelings or sensations, although the two latter D 
 may enter into the act of volition. There is a continual consciousness of a 
 power of willing which we possess, which power the inorganic objects 
 about us do not possess. Whether this feeling be philosophically justified 
 or not does not enter into consideration here, the fact is that such a con- 
 sciousness on the part of human beings does exist. Moreover, we identify 
 this power of willing particularly with artistic creation (cf. Fine Arts — not 
 only products of human activity, but further, of mental activity), hence 
 the vulgar astonishment at the power of a musician to compose original 
 works far from amy musical instrument, such as a piano. The musician 
 creates to a greater extent than the painter. If Music, in its character, ia 
 so thoroughly an offspring of the human " will," so, conversely, the " will " 
 finds its best representative in Music. The process of an act of volition 
 being personal and mental, is not visible or objective, and may therefore 
 find its fittest expression in Music, which is also purely subjective (in the 
 sense of mental) and without visible attributes of dimensions, colour, etc. 
 That an act of volition has occurred in a person's mind may be made evi- 
 dent by his subsequent action, which is visible, but the act of volition 
 itself, in its in/visible character as a mental process, is better suggested by 
 Music. 
 
 A drama, then, may be conceived as consisting of two parts, which 
 correspond to an "inner" jfabric of desires, emotions, feelings, and the 
 objectification of these in t&e speech and acting of the personages. The 
 distinction is roughly indicated by the fact that very often tie two rivera 
 —feeling and expression, — dp not correspond, as where a personage hides 
 his .inner feelings and speaks falsely or hypocritically.- The inner life is 
 the web of impulses, desires, emotions, affections, feelings, and acts of 
 
24 THE STYLE CJF THE MTJSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 volition, which underlie all that we see and hear upon the stage. It is 
 that which we ' hunt out ' from the expression of it by the actors. We 
 cannot feel this psychic web itself, for it is confined to the minds of 
 the • persons ' of the drama, simulated by the actors. 
 
 If one takes the first act of Tristan and Isolde, and writes in two separate columns 
 the corresponding occurrences of (1) the mental or inner world ; (2) the outward world 
 (or what is seen), a far more vivid idea will be obtained of this antitheses than can be con- 
 veyed by words. Notice that 'if in doubt' the Music of this work may often aid us in 
 divining the ' inner ' occurrences. 
 
 Wagner was led to the " appreciation of the proper field of Poetry " by 
 bis good angel — Music. With regard to the Music-Drama, differing from 
 text makers in that he was a musician, he was protected from the intellec- 
 tual egotism which misleads men of poetic nature to expend their forces in 
 the (for them) unfit field of teaching, of serving up messes of learning, 
 subtly scientific or religious, for the minds of the people. His education 
 was of such a free nature that his emotional nature was not completely 
 extirpated by an army of learned thoughts ; his sensibility was not 
 atrophied by a one-sided cultivation of his intellect ; his natural and true 
 feelings were not suppressed and veiled by a " pride of knowledge." (Cf. 
 D the ' classical ' poets.) Music alone cannot express cause or object. To 
 express anything beyond vague pathos, Music must be associated with 
 words. Wagner's command of musical composition allowed him to think 
 in Music instead of thinking on the composing of it ; hence when his 
 impulse towards the greater and more characteristic expression led him to 
 the addition of words, the union naturally occurred at that point where the 
 poet only would have felt the need of some form of language speaking 
 directly to the sensibility, i.e. without the intermediation of the intellect, and 
 that point is where the subject is of such an emotional nature that it 
 may be compared to ' waves of emotion.' This is Poetry which appeals 
 to the sensibility and not the intellect of men, and hence Wagner was led 
 by his musical feeling to the Poetry which is real and true, that which 
 expresses "that which in man is purely human, unalloyed by all con- 
 vention." 
 
 The two critical points which made such a compound Art possible are : 
 that the organ of speech may also be employed as a musical instrument ; 
 that Music is more or less naturally associable with our emotions. The 
 first point renders musical dialogue possible ; the second renders dramatic 
 Music possible. Why the combination of Music and the Stage was expedient 
 has already been dealt with. Historically, the difficulty arose when it 
 became necessary to practically solve the manner in which the combination 
 should be effected, in the details of combining harmoniously. Had the 
 compound Art undergone a long and slow organic development, the Style 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 25 
 
 might have developed itself by numerous slow cumulative efforts — but the 
 development of the modern Opera devolved especially on the efforts of 
 certain individuals, and the Arts which personal effort tried to unite had 
 suffered long and separate development, so that they had become divorced 
 to the extreme. 
 
 The modem Opera did not arise as the product of an organic develop- 
 ment, it was a sudden and compulsory marriage of two Arts which had 
 undergone separate development. Compromise on the part of each Art 
 was demanded, but was not ceded. The very mode of origin of the Opera 
 was unfortunate. 
 
 (A) Lofty poetic diction in direct discourse requires Music to make it A 
 completely evident that it is an ideal world, as much as Music needs Poetry 
 
 or a poetic situation or scene to make its vague language express a distinct 
 phase of pathos. It is very difficult to raise a reader from the common- 
 place of everyday life to the ideal world suddenly. "When the poet merely 
 describes any scene or action, his diction is felt to be that which he designed 
 to accompany his own lofty perceptions — and hence seems natural. But 
 when a modern or a historical character, or any character postulated as 
 real in time and space, is presented by the poet as speaking in a high-flown 
 poetical diction, the effect is liable to be like that of the ' supe ' who speaks 
 as a god. A poet may take almost any phase of modern emotion and 
 describe it in discourse as lofty as he likes, but when he represents modem 
 characters speaking in a direct discourse savouring of the celestial regions, 
 the effect is liable to be ridiculous. The fact is that our minds are very 
 quick to detect affectation and unnatural ' situations,' and hence require 
 careful treatment to throw them off the scent. It requires Music to keep 
 the mind up to the proper tone for accepting as natural and not affected a 
 high-flown diction. One trouble with second-rate modern poets who 
 scribble for the newspapers is that they employ the wings of an (imitated !) 
 lofty diction while walking on the earth of modern life. Their diction 
 soars, but their subject-matter is modern clay. (Cf. pp. 55 and 122.) 
 
 It is one of the marks of Wagner's genius that he could conceive so many strictly 
 musical situations as occur in his works, situations which would be impossible or improb- 
 able without Music, but which are peculiarly beautiful as represented with Music. The 
 closing scene of Walkure may be instanced as a scene which might occasion nothing 
 but ridicule if acted merely as pantomime. It is the glorious Music which casts an 
 artistic halo about the whole scene, and prevents its sinking to a parody. In this respect 
 Music acts like a tonic which prevents the mind from seeing ideal situations with the eyes 
 of ridicule and critical derision. It is like a religious sentiment that prevents a reader or 
 listener from discerning anything vulgar in the sacred books. (Cf. Higher Realism, p. 13.) 
 
 (B) The second quality of Music is that it is an Art dealing in pleasant B 
 combinations of tones ; it plays directly on our senses, and consequently is 
 intolerable when not prevailingly pleasant. It is not like Arts which do 
 
26 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 not play directly on the sense-organs (cf. C infra) and which make 
 capital out of scenes of wretchedness and suffering, as literature does. 
 Artists would hardly have worked so hard on Music as they have, if it had 
 B been a pain-producing agency. Those flowers are cultivated mostly whieh 
 have a pleasant odour. There is much in life which will not mis well 
 with Music, but, as this is generally rejected by the dramatist, a more 
 important consideration for us is that Music is pre-eminently capable of 
 the very loftiest effects, and that therefore the Drama which will be most 
 transfigured by Music will be the loftiest Style of Drama. 
 
 One may say Music is the most highly Esthetic among the Arts. It is either pleasing 
 or cannot be called Music in an art-sense. Other arts such as Drama, novels and even 
 Painting can somewhat ignore the sensuously pleasing JEsthetic qualities: some Arts 
 because they do not offer direct stimuli, such as the ' representative ' Arts ; others because 
 they have a ',pathetic' interest that recompenses them for a lack of sensuously pleasing 
 elements (novels, genre-dramas, paintings, which present pathetic scenes). To occasion 
 suffering is not the field of Music as an Art, and it is inconsistent with a situatio.n pre- 
 senting abject misery trending on the unassthetic (dirt). The tendency now in musical 
 circles, probably owing to the long desired relief from highly artificial constraint of 
 pedantry, is to deny any limits to the extent of modulation, etc. One sign pf the tendency 
 is that concert programmes are largely occupied, not by 'independent Music,' but by 
 excerpts from works not written for concert performance. It is probable that freedom of 
 modulation is subjected to certain broad limits such as are founded upon our nervous system 
 and sense-organs. It is not sufficient to say that familiarity will make anything pleasing. 
 Taking the Arts as a whole it seems probable that there are certain empirical limits to 
 the expediency of forcing discord in tone and in colour. 
 
 As regards the much belaboured audacity of modulation of B. "Wagner, it may be 
 remarked that (1) people had too exclusively confined themselves to a certain class of 
 Music (that of the Italian Opera composers), and were consequently not prepared for any- 
 thing so different as the Music .of Wagner's later works (personal experience) ; (2) there 
 was much professional envy at work ; (3) it was not so much the orchestral Music that 
 was aggravating as the subordination of the prima donna, etc., in Wagner's work? as 
 compared with those of Bellini, etc. ; (4) a most important point (and one of personal 
 experience), Wagner's works undoubtedly suffered very much from recriminations that 
 arose from poor performances of his works. I have myself heard Tristan and Isolde out- 
 rageously givien, -both as regards the vocal and instrumental rendering. And it is easy to 
 imagine how this could arise, for after all, the world has been obliged to train itself in 
 Music during the last fifty years of the popularising of Music. Leaders of orchestras ^,cd 
 singers have developed themselves under the regime of far more exacting Music than was 
 formerly performed. Public demand has .compelled leaders of orchestras who wrote com- 
 mon-place waltzes to work up the Music to Tristan, and ' poor ' singers have been com- 
 pelled to lay aside dramatic tricks and bravoure-antics, and undertake all a new training 
 in a much more difficult musical directipn than before. That performances should not 
 have displayed SStyle is no wonder. To expect an orchestra to render discords properly 
 and clearly when they just barely rendered the open chords accurately was too much. 
 Many times if one .bad not been familiar wi,th the way the Music was rendered in con- 
 scientious performances of Wagner's works, he would have asserted that here was an abuse 
 of the rights of a composer. A subsequent hearing of a first-class performance would dis- 
 sipate all such ideas. Wagner's Music (in spite of careful marks of expression) ^ afiout 
 what is made of -it ipjien the oboist, and fagottist, pjnd %ropAonist get hptd t qf$. 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 27 
 
 (C) The third quality of Music is its intensely ' presentative ' character,* C 
 as contrasted with the permanent duration of pictures and sculpture, and 
 
 * This is a very useful conception in Art-Philosophy, and the reader is recommended to 
 grasp the idea firmly and clearly if he has not already done so. It is analogous to the 
 basis of classification, both of cognitions and feelings, given by Herbert Spencer in his 
 Psychology, vol. ii. p. 513, in which the scale of division runs : (1) presentative ; (2) pre- 
 sentative-representative ; (3) representative ; (4) re-representative, an ascending scale 
 which is momentous as regards the nature of the Music-Drama (see p. 126), and of 
 ^Esthetic comtemplation in general as distinguished from intellectual activity. 'Pre- 
 sentative ' is here employed in the sense of ' capable of direct apprehension as opposed to 
 representation.' Thus Music, Architecture and the Decorative Arts are pre-eminently 
 ' presentative ' ; they present something directly to our sense-organs — something that is 
 enjoyable in itself without reference to similar past experiences. On the other hand, 
 Literature does not present anything to us comparable to that which it ' represents.' (Cf. 
 p. 90.) It Works through phonetic symbols which are not at all the images they stand 
 for and arouse. It is evident that in the latter case the mind of the percipient supplies 
 its own ' images,' viz. must to a certain extent manufacture the art- work itself from the. 
 instigation of the symbols supplied by the writer. Literature presupposes a stock of 
 available 'images,' and the susceptibility to stimulation thereof through something 
 entirely unlike them. In this sense, Architecture, Sculpture, Music, and Painting are 
 more 'universal' in their capacity for apprehension than Literature, which is limited in 
 its apprehension to a knowledge of the symbols, i.e. of the words and expressions in which 
 it is framed. The former are more direct or presentative in the sense that there is less 
 mental togglery of cognition between the object presented and the apprehending mind, than 
 there is in the case^of Literature. The latter point comes out strongly when the Literature 
 is a foreign one to us and we are beginners in the language, Goethe's Faust in the original 
 for instance. 
 
 Lessing ? s Laocoon was an application of the conception of ' presentative ' versus ' repre- 
 sentative' to the demarcation of 'the fields of Sculpture (and the Pictorial Arts) and Litera- 
 ture respectively. The idea is of much wider application, however, especially if combined 
 with the second part of our conception — that of 'immediate' — which renders it vastly 
 more important for application to the Music-Drama. 
 
 ' Immediate ' also refers to the relative directness or remoteness of apprehension. Thus 
 Music not only presents direct stimuli to the sense-organ of hearing, but also presents its 
 stimuli for a moment only. It is so highly presentative that it is strictly 'local in time,' 
 and does not admit of that extended contemplation which is possible in the case of an 
 art-work not thus limited — as a painting or a temple. Music is » 'passing' Art ; it exists 
 only while changing. Its stimuli do not persist like those " permanent possibilities of 
 stimulation" paintings and -statues. Its stimuli must be felt and enjoyed upon the 
 moment without possibility of stopping them, returning upon the track, or reversing the 
 order of succession. This often strikes one forcibly in listening to the performance of a 
 symphony, the irreclaimable 'ever-relapsing into the past ' of the tones. We cannot 
 ' remove our ears ' for the nonce, revel in a little side-play of the imagination, and return- 
 ing catch the tones where we set out upon the excursion. Music brooks no drooping or 
 distraction of the attention under pain of unconsciousness of the tones, i.e. non-existence 
 of the Music. It is a ' dynamical ' art par excellence as opposed to the statical art-works 
 of Fainting, Sculpture, Architecture. How we can linger over a .navel, make excursions 
 of the fancy and take up the thread again ! Music is inexorably despotic in its exactions 
 and brooks no simultaneous rival. This then is the momentous quality for the Music- 
 Drama that is meant by 'immediate.' 
 
 Notice that a Drama (as acted) is both ' presentative 'and ' immediate,' and yet dis- 
 plays at the same time a ' representative ' element in its dialogue which is further ' imme- 
 diate ' in its presentativeness. Also that the same Drama, when read by one's self dumb- 
 reading, is neither ' presentative ' nor ' immediate.' 
 
28 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 the ' representative ' character of Literature which employs symbols (words). 
 Thus a painting may be contemplated as long as we wish, and we may medi- 
 tate upon it at our ease. If the picture could change its aspect completely 
 
 C every moment it would be something like Music, which flows, and ebbs, and 
 dies every moment that it is being listened to. Music is inexorable, and 
 flows along without any regard to our desires to retard or recall its current. 
 If pleasure is to be culled from any tone or chord, it must be done then 
 and there, for a moment afterwards they will have vanished, and new 
 tones have taken their place. The tones are momentary, hence they 
 demand constant attention; they monopolise our attention if we would 
 enjoy them, hence the attention should not be called away from them more 
 than necessary. As applied to the style of Drama adapted to the Music- 
 Drama, this means that it should be as clear — as simple — as is consistent 
 with dramatic power. If a painting completely changed its aspect at every 
 moment, we should not find much time to contemplate, let alone enjoy, 
 any single aspect — in fact, after a short time we should probably be glad 
 if the complex picture were changed for some simple coloured design which 
 pretended to do no more than to amuse the eye like a kaleidoscope, with- 
 out compelling us to discern the dramatic import of each picture. If 
 action and language are complicated, and demand much mental application 
 from the hearer, they will necessarily distract his attention from the Music, 
 which will then cease to have any reason for its presence.. We have called 
 upon the Drama to make the Music clear, but if the Drama itself requires 
 mental effort to unravel it at every moment, it cannot aid the Music 
 much. Therefore the Drama required should not be complicated in its 
 plot, or appeal to the intellect in its language — it should be simple, clear, 
 and agree with the Music at every step. (Conservation of mental energies, 
 pp. 39 and 126.) 
 
 D (D) Among the most noteworthy qualities of Music is its emotional 
 
 character, which has already been discussed in the foregoing pages, and is 
 nowadays so generally recognised that this quality of Music might be 
 taken for granted. However, it will make the exposition more uniform to 
 summarise some of the points. 
 
 (1) Music has long been associated with emotions by musical composers, 
 and part of the development of Music has assumed the connection. In 
 programme-music composers attempted to go even further. The long 
 association of Music with words and Poetry in religious and secular song- 
 music displays the same assumption, and some writers go so far even as 
 to assume that Music had its origin in connection with the Dance and its 
 accompanying emotions. That Music is capable of exciting the feelings is 
 a matter of experience, and is almost publicly recognised in military 
 music, religious and patriotic songs, funeral marches, etc. This leads to 
 (2) Music is presently and remotely associated with one of the commonest 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 29 
 
 modes of expressing the feelings — speech in its widest sense, including J) 
 cries, shouts, groans, etc. In fact, vocal Music among more or less un- 
 civilised races seems to be a quasi-natural means of expressing various 
 feelings. This belongs to Ethnology. As a physiological explanation of 
 this phenomenon the following scant quotation may be interesting. 
 " Sounds which go along with feeling, differ from the ordinary sounds, not 
 only in loudness, but in pitch — departing from the medium tones more 
 widely in proportion as the feeling increases. Here, too, it is to be 
 observed that the relationship is displayed among animals. The sounds 
 they make are always signs of feeling, pleasurable or painful, and similarly 
 vary in intensity and pitch with the feeling." Also — " The quality of 
 voice which characterises an unexcited state, is that produced by vocal 
 chords in a state of comparative relaxation ; and the more sonorous cha- 
 racter of the tones expressing much feeling, ending at length in that 
 metallic ring which indicates great passion, implies increasing strain of 
 the vocal chords." For the further elucidation of this, see H. Spencer's 
 Psychology, vol. ii, " Language of the Emotions." There is even a theory 
 which proposes to explain the strange effect of Music upon us by the aid 
 of this, in that present modes of appealing to our feelings through Music 
 are parasitical upon the reverberations of the accumulated and inherited 
 results of those (more or less inarticulate) cries, etc., which may be sup- 
 posed at one time to have been the spontaneous expression accompanying 
 the fierce emotions of primeval or of primitive man. This belongs rather 
 to Anthropology. The third point belongs rather to Psychology or to 
 ^Esthetics. It is 
 
 (3) Music is theoretically fitted to suggest mental states corresponding 
 to our feelings by reason of its psychic qualities, not only relatively to 
 other Art means (pp. 5, 20, 28, 89 et seq), but also on account of some 
 striking points of likeness between Music and our feelings (as distinguished 
 from the activity of our ' knowing faculties ') (p. 39 + ). 
 
 (a) The primary likeness has already been mentioned (p. 20). It is 
 founded upon the difference between the external world and the subject- 
 world, which finds a correspondence in the difference between sensations 
 derived from the outer world (as well as from Architecture, Painting, etc.), 
 and the sensations derived from Music. " The External or . . . the Object- 
 World is distinguished by the property called Extension, pertaining both 
 to resisting matter and to unresisting, or empty Space." — Bain. Feeling 
 is subjective experience par excellence. So is Music as compared with 
 the sensations from the works of other Arts (especially if the orchestra 
 is invisible, and the attention so occupied otherwise as not to focus upon 
 the musicians and instruments). We " detach our feelings from the 
 experiences of the Object-World and refer them to the inner world 
 of self." 
 
D 
 
 30 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIOrDKAMA. 
 
 To put these corresponding contrasts in diagrammatic form :-*- 
 
 External World. 
 
 Sensations and ideaB based thereupon. 
 
 Sensations in general, from objects and 
 art-works appealing to the eye. 
 
 Comparative indifference towards the 
 vast mass of sensations. 
 
 Comparative immunity of spectator of 
 art-works from actual suffering. 
 
 Internal or subjective. 
 
 Emotions. 
 
 Sensations of Music. 
 
 Emotions usually pleasurable or pain- 
 ful, at least not indifferent. 
 
 Tones in their combinations and se- 
 quence can give us keen pleasure 
 or can make it very uncomfortable 
 for us. They are seldom entirely 
 indifferent. 
 
 (b) Music has a time-element or factor of its effect ; it does not end in 
 a single ' moment ' (cf. Painting). There is a persistence in the mental 
 experience, and a cumulative emotional effect may be the result. This 
 holds for Literature and Oratory also. So our feelings are not momentary. 
 They have a time-element. Often they endure for a considerable period of 
 time. There is an ■" emotional persistence" which strongly contrasts with 
 the instantaneous nature of ' sensations.' " . . , A state of grief requires 
 time for its full realisation. An emotion- undergoes a certain rise or 
 development from the stage of just appreciable excitement up to culmina- 
 tion."" 
 
 (c) Music, by virtue of -this quality, can ' work up ' gradually to an 
 effect — being made up of a succession of several ' art-moments,' which, if 
 arranged in an adapted sequence, can effect (or reproduce) that general 
 climax-form so characteristic of our feelings— ^beginning, development, 
 climax, subsidence, end. (Compare preludes to Lohengrin, Tristan, 
 Tannhauser, and the ' form ' of dramas in general, especially those in five 
 acts.) 
 
 (.d) Feelings are subjected to variations of intensity, force, 'massiveness, 
 etc., from moment to moment. Music displays a like quality. It can 
 Tary in the directions of pitch,. loudness, quality, massiveness, tempo, time, 
 intensity, tonality, harmonic breadth — at one time spreading out in a broad 
 river of harmony flowing almost sluggishly, again contracting itself to a 
 silver stream of smooth, flowing melody — now rushing impetuously in its 
 narrow bed until, rising in pitch and concentrating its trenchant tone 
 quality in a single line, it becomes keenly incisive, and carries one away 
 by its swift tempo and violent ' time.' 
 
QUALITIES OF MUSIC. 31 
 
 (e) Emotions are marked by the way they ' shade off' into one another, 
 and by the way in which they are coloured by pleasurable and painful 
 feelings and liability to appear, chameleon-like, now of one hue and now of D 
 another. 
 
 " In many of our affective states . . . there is this meeting of the 
 opposed elements of the agreeable and the disagreeable," etc. Likewise, 
 Music easily 'shades off' from one phase of expression to another, and by 
 almost imperceptible degrees ; it also can pass easily from the sad to the 
 joyful, from the painful to the pleasing ; it, too, while keeping a general 
 expression, can expose this to all the dynamic changes mentioned in the 
 last paragraph, and, in addition, to a number of subtle changes of emotional 
 expression that seem utterly inexplicable as the outcome of the simple 
 and coarse ' material ' changes. Harmony, and tonality, and scale go deep, 
 and it is probable that the well is by no means exhausted. Music is a 
 most wonderful Art as regards the infinite variety that is produced from 
 very limited means. The palette is not large, but there is all the more 
 opportunity for genius to display itself in manipulating the colours. Note 
 that the peculiar expressiveness of Music does not lie in the above elements 
 of pitch, loudness, quality, intensity, etc., but in the changes therein 
 implied, viz. : crescendo, diminuendo, etc. 
 
 It is in contrast that the power of Music lies, not in absolute differences. 
 Just as, among those pictorial arts which employ a single colour only, the 
 particular colour becomes of little importance (so little, in fact, that the 
 same scene may be depicted in silver grey, or sanguine, or brown, or 
 black, according to the process), and the suggestions of nature are effected 
 by gradations and contrasts within that one colour, or between it and the 
 colour of the paper employed, without ever realising in any case the 
 absolute difference between the sunlight and darkness of nature; so 
 Music, with a meagre gamut, limited to the extremes of ' more pleasing ' 
 and 'less pleasing,' is yet capable of suggesting that vast gamut of feelings 
 lying between absolute pleasure and absolute pain. It seems possible 
 that a composer of sufficient inventiveness might suggest all the feelings 
 possible to personages in an art-work like the Music-Drama without ever 
 passing the safe bounds of the chord- and-discord palette of Beethoven. 
 
 With regard to the use and efficiency of the device of suggestiveness in 
 Art in general, one need only turn to Poetry and the Graphic Arts. The 
 strange and pleasing mental reverberations resulting from the impact of a 
 word upon the mind is a matter of common experience and is one of the 
 constant factors of poetry. Of course, the poet may not consciously 
 recognise any of the complexities of subtle mental and phonetic associa- 
 tions of words. In modern paintings, suggestiveness is exploited to such 
 a remarkable extent that the understanding is baffled in the attempt to 
 explain how the fairy-like effect of a painting at forty feet is attained by 
 the chaotic disposition of pigments disclosed by closer inspection. 
 
32 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 To sum up then : The capacity for the suggestion of emotional states, 
 and the pleasurable and painful accompaniments thereof is one of the most 
 striking qualities of Music, and should not be disregarded in considering 
 any Art based upon Music. 
 
 BSsume of Qualities of Music : — 
 
 A. Artificiality, both in respect of its psychic character as contrasted 
 with the other Arts, and of the fact that it does not occur in the situation 
 of an accompaniment of everyday life. 
 
 B. (1) The sensuously pleasing character of Music ; and 
 (2) Its pre-eminent capacity for lofty expression. 
 
 C. Its immediate-presentative nature (which necessitates, when combined 
 with other Arts, a severe ' unity ' to the end of economising the mental 
 energy of the spectator, viz. auditor). 
 
 D. Emotional, that is, its singular capacity for suggesting to the mind 
 of the auditor mental states corresponding in many respects to emotions. 
 
 Or in the following form : — 
 
 Since Music is a predicated feature of the Music-Drama, its qualities 
 will largely determine the Style. These qualities are reducible to the 
 following heads : — 
 
 (A) Different from outer aspects of everyday life and does not enter 
 into everyday occupations and events. 
 
 (B) Must be predominantly pleasing (sensuously gratifying), to be 
 called ' Music,' and it is- capable of highest nights of beauty and poetical 
 suggestiveness. 
 
 (C) It is an 'immediate-presentative Art, that is, it monopolises 
 attention (sensation and enjoyment). It has also its peculiar ' measured ' 
 character incident upon its feature of severe rhythm and tempo, 
 
 (D) Music is emotional in the sense of ' capable of suggesting emotions.' 
 
 (E) Music is emotional in particular directions. It is not every emotion 
 that demands expression, or that discharges itself in musical dialogue, and 
 demands lyric expression. 
 
 From these qualities of Music much can be learned regarding the 
 probable field of the Music-Drama, but in order that they can be con- 
 veniently applied they will be reduced to a quasi ' rule ' form. It must be 
 understood that the term " Canon " applied to them in the next chapter 
 refers to the determination of the theoretical form, and not necessarily to 
 the mode of producing, or composing music-dramas. The history of Art 
 does not reflect very creditably upon the efficiency of rules to produce 
 art-works or to insure Style. Such Canons merely constitute a convenient 
 method of dealing with the large and intricate field of the Music-Drama 
 in a treatise. The reader should beware of mistaking the authoritative 
 look of the following canons for any assertion of superhuman origin. 
 
33 
 
 II. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 
 
 3ano 
 
 N A, 
 
 Idealism* .... 
 
 n 
 
 B 
 
 Beauty . 
 
 *> 
 
 Ci. 
 
 Simplicity . > . . . 
 
 i> 
 
 Ci. 
 
 Unity (Dramatic) 
 
 it 
 
 Oj. 
 
 Consistency (with musical element) 
 
 *j 
 
 Cja. 
 
 Lyric (with vocal element) . 
 
 i) 
 
 C 4 . 
 
 Sincerity ..... 
 
 » 
 
 C5- 
 
 Symbolism ....'. 
 
 »> 
 
 D. 
 
 Emotion 
 
 » 
 
 E. 
 
 Expression .... 
 
 PAGE 
 
 35 
 
 36 
 38 
 40 
 42 
 42 
 43 
 43 
 45 
 45 
 
 (* The names are of little importance except as recognition marks.) 
 [A. As opposed to Naturalism in the sense of the imitation of contem- 
 porary life in its ' inner ' and ' outer ' aspects. 
 
 On the part of the artist it means originality of conception, free use of 
 the phantasy, and more under the dominion of the aesthetic feelings than 
 other Arts. 
 
 B. As opposed to Realism in its worst sense, and Sensationalism. 
 Nobility of conception, aesthetical, pictorially beautiful, lofty; different 
 from the aspects of everyday life in the sense of more poetical ; neither 
 filthy, nor painful, nor trite, nor ' sensational.' 
 
 Ci. Simplicity, as opposed to complexity and extensiveness. 
 C 2. Unity, as opposed to the irrelevancy of episode ; on the part of 
 the artist it means exclusion of episode, of distracting features ; 
 severity of dramatic development. 
 C ?. Consistency ; agreement between Music and the Drama, including 
 the outer stage and the inner emotions (also opposed to 
 Sensationalism). 
 Cja. 'Lyric' or vocal, as opposed to any. other kind of expression. 
 Fitness between vocal part, action, and emotions.. 
 
 D 
 
are „ „ C. 
 
 34 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 G/f.. Sincerity ; agreement between the vocal music, acting, and the 
 
 emotions of the characters. 
 Cj. Symbolism; agreement between the stage belongings and the 
 
 Drama. (Costume, scenery, attributes of the characters, 
 
 etc.) 
 
 D. Emotion, as opposed to intellectual (and to ' outer '). 
 
 E. Expression, as opposed to restraint, reserve, control of the feelings, 
 and all that is associated with the 'ratiocinating character,' as distinguished 
 from the man or woman of (dramatic) feeling and expression thereof. 
 
 Canon A is derived from Quality A. 
 
 » ,B >, » **• 
 
 7, "0 - 
 „. Ci 
 
 „ C2 
 
 „ G 3 
 
 „ Oja 
 
 „ C4 
 
 » '°5 ' 
 
 " jf { •(Emotional Nature) are derived from Quality D. 
 
 Gi, C 2, Gj, G#, G-5 are each and all aspects of ' fitness/ Thus — 
 
 G I. Adaptation to the sensuous and monopolising nature of Music. 
 
 G2, Fitness of one part of the- Drama to another part, and to the whole 
 for dramatic effect and economy of energy. 
 
 Gj. Fitness existing between the Musi© and the dramatic action. 
 Music has peculiar qualities, such as exact Rhythm. 
 
 Gja. The same for the vocal part. 
 
 0$. Fitness of the vocal Style to express the particular emotional 
 states of the characters, and to avoid distracting the hearer's attention. 
 Sincerity of expression of sincere feelings is a part of unity. 
 
 G 5. Fitness of all. external features (costume, attributes, etc.) to the 
 Drama as a Whole, both for dramatic effect and economy of attention. 
 
 By showing what is most obviously unfit for the Music-Drama, we are 
 .able to see vividly what is most fit for inclusion in the Music-Drama. 
 We can discern a virtue most clearly by marking the vice of which it is 
 the complete opposite. (Of. test by elimination, p. 56.) 
 
 The foundation of a ' Style.' 
 
 The case before us is this. "We have a number of factors to blend 
 harmoniously, and to make this blend such a one as shall be artistically 
 most effective. We have our ' feeling ' and 'reason' to guide us. The 
 possible mixtures are many. The lest blend is single, and can be found*'! 
 only by trial and rejection. Moreover, several effective blends are some- j 
 times possible, even with a limited number- of factors, and two other Styles 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 88 
 
 might be here treated — that of the Comic Opera and of the Oratorio, We 
 have chosen the full apparatus of the Stage and the serious side of Drama 
 for consideration in this book. 
 
 " The conception of Style may be best defined as the complete agreement 
 between ' contents ' and form : a consistency extending to the smallest 
 details, viz. between that to be rendered (be this an artistic conception or a 
 work of art requiring reproduction) and ~the performance thereof (be this 
 the work of the creating (designing) artist, as in Sculpture and Painting; 
 or the work of a performing company, as in Architecture, Symphonic 
 Music, and the Drama)," — Sans pon Wqlzogen.\ 
 
 These are the criteria of criticism of the Music-Drama. Let us now 
 see how they arc derived. 
 
 (A) Idealism,. — The Music-Drama differs primarily from the Spoken 
 Drama by the presence of Music as an essential feature. 
 
 Now, this factor of the Music-Drama — Music — does not enter as an 
 integral feature of our acts in everyday life. None of our acts are neces- 
 sarily accompanied by an orchestral accompaniment, nor do we express our 
 thoughts and feelings in song and 'recitative.' Hence, when we present 
 an action on the stage accompanied by an orchestral part, and compel the 
 actors to express their thoughts and emotions in song and recitative, we 
 have made an artificial product (art-work) which differs entirely from 
 everyday life, and further differs from any accurate imitation of everyday 
 life, such as we are accustomed to upon the Stage. The artificiality of the 
 whole procedure is self-apparent. 
 
 The outcome of this observation is that, unless the aspects of the action 
 on the Stage differ from the aspects of everyday life, a situation will be 
 presented so utterly unnatural, that it must excite the disgust or ridicule 
 of the spectator, if he has not completely renounced all sense of wha,t is 
 natural. Just as a man would make himself ridiculous in ordinary life if 
 he persisted in singing his thoughts and feelings to his fellow creatures, so 
 the representation on the Stage of such a situation should excite disgust or 
 ridicule. In order to produce an art- work which will not be ridiculous, we 
 must not seek to combine a representation of the aspects of contemporary 
 life with a musical accompaniment. Angel-wings attached to a dress suit 
 are not more palpably false than Music applied to dress suits on the Stage. 
 (Of. modern street scenes, scene in hospital, in a restaurant.) In reference, 
 then to the Music-Drama, whatever appears upon the Stage must not 
 suggest contemporary life in its outer aspects. We may term this the 
 canon of Idealism. 
 
 It is hardly conceivable how much depends upon this single point — 
 h.ow many things 'conformity with it' decides without further parley- 
 how maQy features of the ' Opera ' even are sanctioned, features which in- 
 the operas jthemselves. were the most reprehensibh of all. It is astonishing 
 
 d 2 
 
36 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 what a free realm is opened up to the composer-poet by the conformity:; 
 to this one feature. Upon it turn the 'chorus, question,' the 'general 
 dramatic effect question ' (differentiation of Style from that of independent 
 Drama), the 'scenery question,' and the question of sublimity versus 
 genre-treatment (cf. p. 19). 
 
 It applies fully to the serious 'Opera' as well. Modern orchestral 
 Music is ' artificial/ in that it is a human device with no adequate proto- 
 type in natitre of which it could be an imitation. Hence its association 
 with an art Drama based on the outer aspects of life is a daring procedure. 
 
 In principles A and B it has been attempted to give the term ' idealistic ' a definite 
 meaning. Whether successfully or not, a reader who has done much reading in 
 works dealing with Art must recognise the prime importance of getting a clear, definite 
 and vivid conception of what ideas are best conveyed by idealistic, ideal, real, realistic, 
 natural and naturalistic. For the purposes of this work, "idealistic" is resolved into 
 three notions : — (1) artificial (human) product : opposed to natural; (2) unfamiliar; not 
 presenting or suggesting the outer aspects of modern life ; (3) differing from everyday 
 life in being more beautiful ; assthetical as opposed to realistic in its worst sense. 
 
 Those who are familiar with art-works of all fields of Art will recognise in Canons A 
 and B applications much broader than the Music-Drama. In its most general form both 
 A and B are principles of fitness. In a more special way A may be stated thus : what 
 an Art should attempt is limited by its materials, tools, mode of execution, and psychic 
 qualities ; as regards fidelity to the outer aspects of Nature, an Art which is adapted by 
 its meaDS to attain a goodly degree of fidelity to Nature may cultivate the direction of 
 close imitation ; on the other band, Arts that by reason of materials, tools, mode of execu- 
 tion, etc., are perforce prevented from attaining to any close fidelity of representation, 
 would do well to cultivate other fields, in fact, to abstain from suggesting that they in 
 any way propose to offer an imitation of Nature. In B we have simply an instance of 
 the particular definition of the field proper to certain Arts, to wit : if a particular Art 
 by reason of its materials, tools, mode of execution, and psychic qualities (including general 
 ' situation ' in the case of Music-Drama and of some other Arts) is practically fitted to 
 attain lofty and noble effects, that Art would do well to cultivate directions leading to such 1 
 general effects, rather than the field of the filthy, or of the common-place (genre), or 
 of the purely ' thrilling.' This is brought out more fully and concretely in succeeding 
 portions of this work. 
 
 {E) Beauty. — Having been compelled to break away from any form of 
 Drama which strives to represent the aspects of contemporary life, we are 
 in a most advantageous position as regards a work of art, for we are freed 
 from all those trammels which necessitate an inexorable imitation of a 
 model, whether that model be suitable or not The galling conditions of 
 accurately following a model are displayed in the case of 'historical' 
 Drama ; either history is lacerated, or the Drama is strait-jacketed ■ to 
 make it conform to history, and the. artist is either called to order for 
 ignorance or contempt of history, or he is pursued by the keen lash of 
 the Art ' critics.' The artist of the ' Music-Drama ' is left free to follow 
 his artistic instincts, to present what is most lofty and picturesque in Man 
 and Nature. He is complete master of all that is grand and beautiful in 
 Nature and Art, and can serenely ignore all that is repulsive therein. 
 
 In seeking to embody the highest and grandest and most beautiful 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 87 
 
 aspects of man in his works, the artist will not only be satisfying his 
 artistic impulses, but also those of his appreciators. Moreover, the 
 presence of the element Music demands that the other factors should dis- 
 play this lofty character, for Music is perforce beautiful (p. 26), and seems 
 pre-eminently adapted to suggest that which is lofty, as is seen by its 
 persistent association with Eeligion. Painting and Literature are able to 
 deal with that which is less beautiful, and even with what is repulsive. 
 Hence the Music-Drama should distinguish itself from actual life, from 
 the ' novel,' and from the naturalistic drama by its lofty and beautiful 
 nature. This may be termed the canon of Beauty (B). 
 
 The 'antique' style of the language of the Bible contributes not a 
 little to remove its contents from adverse criticism, and from becoming 
 ludicrous. This shows how a style of treatment can furnish an idealistic 
 atmosphere for the protection of its subject-matter. The peculiar vocal 
 style in which the 'lessons' for the day are sometimes read in the Church 
 service, also tends to the same end. 
 
 Poets naturally betake themselves to archaic expressions when treating some subject- 
 matters. Cf. W. Morris and Coleridge. 
 
 As regards the degree of fidelity of imitation which an Art ought to 
 aim at attaining, I would suggest the following' general principle : — It is 
 wholly a matter of fitness ; if an Art, by reason of its materials, tools, 
 mode of execution, practical function, or psychic nature, is prevented 
 from attaining a high degree of fidelity in imitation, that Art would do 
 well to renounce the attempt and cultivate some field of activity more 
 compatible with its nature and means of execution. 
 
 The reader should test this principle for all the Art-processes he can 
 think of, mosaic, stained glass, keramics, etc. As applied to the Music- 
 Drama, it would mean that, since the situation of orchestral accompani- 
 ment and musical dialogue preclude once for all any fidelity to actual life, 
 the Art should cultivate a field peculiar to itself, and, to avoid misconcep- 
 tions and suggestions, should make it clearly felt that it does not even 
 propose to imitate the outer aspects of contemporary life (A and B). 
 
 Notice that if the Art of the Music-Drama had undergone a natural 
 organic development it would not have adopted orchestral accompaniment 
 and musical dialogue until the subject-matter had demanded it — had cried 
 aloud for it — and that point would have been where Drama had striven to 
 be more beautiful than the means of ordinary speech allowed, or the most 
 lofty poetic diction even. Then would it, of itself, have demanded a 
 higher, a loftier, a more transcendental language — and found Music. But 
 in the actual case this higher language — Music — was tacked on to a 
 drama which did not demand any other diction than speech (cf. Camille 
 and Traviata), indeed originally employed it, and the result, the Opera, 
 showed the Stitches. 
 
38 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC>DKAMA. 
 
 2£ ' Mabrdust first- get far enough away from actual life before'he can be 
 
 & free to exalt it. His art-work must not suggest everyday life Or it will 
 
 •B fail, for we are keenly sensitive to inaccuracies in the presentation of life 
 
 as we know it from our continual experience. To present an exalted 
 
 piOture of everyday life is to challenge" our sense of reality and possibility. 
 
 In order to exalt human life for Art purposes, man must get far away 
 from the appearances of actual life; for if his representation suggests con- 
 temporary life in its outer aspects it is apt to appear ludicrous. We are 
 keenly alive to what is possible in actual life, and will not endure too 
 much 'sweetening' in any representation which poses as a reproduction 
 of actual life. 
 
 The position of the Music-Drama among the Arts makes it very diP* 
 fieult to determine its ' Style.' The factor Music requires ' Idealism,' and 
 the Dramatic element demands a certain amount of 'Naturalism.' To 
 determine the meeting point for every feature of the whole work is a 
 difficult matter (cf. last § p. 34). 
 C I (Oi) Simplicity. — This canon is very important, for the Music-Drama 
 
 is not like a compound of Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting ; the works 
 of these Arts are lasting in their nature, they endure for contemplation, 
 they are not momentary like Music which is being performed. They do 
 not demand instant enjoyment, but may be observed at length, and each 
 part remains for separate contemplation. They are not "immediately 
 presentative " — the property of Music that, at every moment of its flow, it 
 must be enjoyed then and there, for, unlike a picture or statue, it perishes 
 at every moment of its course. If the mind of the hearer is too 
 much distracted from the Music, it will lose the chief pleasure of the 
 whole work — the pleasure arising. from the Music. Hence the Music- 
 Drama should display those qualities of Unity and Simplicity which 
 render the work easy of comprehension. 
 
 A compound Art, especially such a one as the Music-Drama, is exposed 
 to special dangers in that it proposes to assail the sense-organs of the 
 spectator to such an extent that his mind may easily be distracted and 
 wearied from excessive activity. The great danger of an Art so exten- 
 sively cumulative in its factors as the Music-Drama is that it may offer 
 more stimuli to the mind than the mind can be conscious of, much less 
 enjoy. The hearer will either be obliged to cease to look at the Stage, or 
 the spectator will have to cease to listen to the Music. Could the enjoy- 
 ment of the Music be postponed, all might be well, for then the attention 
 might be successively devoted to the Music and the Stage. It might be 
 thought that the Music could be rendered very simple with advantage, 
 but this would entail a renunciation of many of the forcible modes of 
 emotional expression of Music. Moreover, it would be renouncing the 
 very element for which the Music-Drama exists. If the important ele- 
 ment of symphonic Music be removed, this Art ceases to have a reason 
 for its separate existence as distinguished from Drama in general. Full 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 89 
 
 orchestral music is the sine qua non of the peculiar Style of the Music- 
 Drama. 
 
 If the musical expression is to be rendered clear by the dramatic con- 
 text, this must be very simple and easily understood, otherwise the ex- 
 planation will become an impediment, and fail to perform its function. 
 The mind of the spectator is assailed by So many impressions, from the Gi 
 orchestral music, the vocal music, the colours and forms presented to the 
 eye, etc., that it will be unable 1 to assimilate the many impressions of sense 
 if they are not carefully gauged by the artist's taste. ,. 
 
 If the mind be called upon in addition to disentangle a Complicated 
 plot, it will not be enjoying a work of art, but doing work itself. Here 
 we meet one of the crucial points of departure from the Style of Inde- 
 pendent Drama. 
 
 There is a law of the mental energies similar to the law of physical 
 energies — of the Conservation of Energy ; it is the law of the conserva- 
 tion of the sum of the mental energies or activities. While listening in 
 astonishment to the fluent expressions of the orator we cannot always, 
 unless thoroughly absorbed in the discourse, repress the Consciousness 
 that the orator is not feeling so strongly and deeply perhaps as his 
 announcements indicate. An electric dynamo is said to evolve less heat when 
 it is compelled to ' do work ' viz. run a motor, etc. So there is a certain 
 eompensation (or interdependence) in the activity of the various mental 
 faculties, such that the sum of the activities (energies) of the various 
 faculties is the same (for the same initial quantity of energy), whatever 
 may be the quantitative or qualitative distribution of the energy. 
 
 G might be termed the Canon of Consistency. In its application the 
 canon presents several aspects which are designated C i,Ci, Gj, etc. 
 
 That these qualities will actually conduce to obviate the difficulty of 
 distraction, and that they will add to the force of the work, may be recog- 
 nised on consideration. 
 
 The Music-Drama is more peculiarly an art-work than independent 
 Drama is, in the respect that it is more sensuous, i.e. farther removed from 
 the mental exercise of intellection and reasoning. It is in this regard that 
 the art-work differentiates itself most widely from the scientific work 
 (treatise). But practically, the Music-Drama will only be this under the 
 conditions dictated by these canons, for the distinctive effect of the art- 
 work is not only to be attained by belabouring the intellect to the mini- 
 mum extent, but also by exercising the senses to the smallest extent 
 compatible with a pleasing consciousness of the kind peculiar to the 
 art- work, i.e. sesthetic gratification. The 'play-impulse' expending itself 
 in a refined manner, and in the peculiar directions dictated by the peculiar 
 sfiwmli of the art- work is the ' norm ' of Art as distinguished from Science, 
 Religion, Utility, Luxury, and Low Sensuality. (Cf. also Part 8, p. 126.) 
 
 " Two things are necessary for the poet and artist ; he must rise above 
 EefiHt.v an(\ Tin must remain within the Sensuous. Where both. 
 
40 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 these exigencies are fulfilled equally, there is aesthetic Art." — Schiller. 
 This deep observation of Schiller applies very particularly to the 
 Music-Drama, which, by its 'general situation' of lyric dialogue and 
 orchestral accompaniment, is compelled to " rise above reality," and yet, 
 by its dramatic basis, is constrained to be emotional in its nature; and 
 further, by the continual presence of the sensuously monopolising element 
 Music, as well as the multiplicity of the stimuli offered to the spectator, is 
 forced to remain predominantly simple and sensuous. 
 
 (G 2) Unity.— Severe Dramatic Unity is a means of economising the 
 energy of the auditor. 
 
 If every arbitrary introduction of irrelevant features be avoided, the 
 mind will not be nonplussed to find the connection between the various 
 parts which make up the action. By confining the action to a severe 
 dramatic development a cause for every event is assigned. The sequence 
 is exposed clearly to the spectator ; he is not compelled to think it out for 
 himself. Everything must conduce to make the action clear without ex- 
 acting serious mental application from the spectator. As far as possible 
 the sequence of events should be natural, viz. the order which the mind 
 would naturally expect from its experience, of life. (As examples, con- 
 trast the rambling episodes from which Wagner took his dramatic ideas 
 with the severely dramatic form they finally assumed in his works.) 
 A severe dramatic development serves to make it easy for the contem- 
 plator to understand why events happened as they did. 
 
 This is one reason for entirely excluding the Comic in the serious type 
 of Music-Drama. There are several reasons, but the one most binding 
 for us is that of G 2 and Cj. Music absorbs attention. The Ludicrous is 
 a discharge of energy that monopolises the attention for the moment and 
 distracts attention from the Music. The ' scherzo ' in Music by no means 
 corresponds to the joke in speech. Cf. also the renunciation of intense 
 (breathless !) dramatic effects in the Music-Drama, pp. 62-63. 
 
 Each ODe of Wagner's works is characterised by some predominating quality — they 
 €0 not form a mere series of ' operas ' differing only in the ' action.' Tannhwuser ap- 
 proaches, in its emotional action and outward show, nearer to our own sensibilities and 
 life than the other works. We are likely to be more intensely moved by the dramatic 
 action of Tannhauser, than that of the highly ideal Lohengrin, or of the far removed 
 Nibelungm-Ring. Tristan and Isolde is that work in which the action is most ' lyrical ' 
 in its ' inner ' natm-e and poetical treatment. Rienzi and the Nihelungen-Ring display a 
 certain epical — an objective — trait, like a series of adventures of some wandering knight; 
 a succession of happenings in the outer world in which the knight is embroiled, but which 
 are as an objective Nemesis over which his will can exert little influence. In Tristan, the 
 dramatic events are worked into a web which is psychic, in which the events are inner 
 events, having their origin in the minds (hearts) of the acting personages ; and the suc- 
 cession or development of eveDts seems to be more the outcome of the working of the 
 individual ' wills,' than an objectively determined succession (Fate). This is more modern, 
 more human, as a form of treatment. It reminds one of Shakespeare's Dramas rather 
 than Dante's narrative or Chaucer's tales, of Ibsen's conversation-plays rather than a 
 melodrama made up. of catastrophes. The treatment of the dramatic action is human s 
 in that it displays man as determining his own fate, rather than as an animal or stone i n 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANON'S. 41 
 
 the hands of Nature. The standpoint is anthropocentric, the universe is again made to 
 revolve about man as its centre : man is no longer treated like a puppet worked by unseen 
 wires from without, but in his grandest aspect, as an individual exercising his will-power 
 over all things about him ; as an independent being, working out his own fate. It is in 
 this grand attitude that we like to look upon man, and the Drama of individualism shows 
 that artists have recognised that form of treating dramatic actions which shall give them 
 the highest interest in the eyes of an audience made up of human beings, each conscious 
 of his will-power, and of the real drama of his own life. 
 
 One might express this human aspect of the world — this artistic conception — as a form 
 of philosophy ; an idealistic conception of the universe starting from the philosopher 
 himself, from his ' will,' and seeking to explain all by that method — a sort of idealistic 
 philosophy like that of Schopenhauer. {Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung.y 
 
 It is in this exaltation of the human will, and its display upon the stage, that the 
 Drama rises to its form most differentiated from the epical 'story,' 'tale,' or 'romance,' in 
 which we feel that the hero even is ' being handled ' by the poet, and not handling himself 
 as an independent individual with a strong will. In one case, the Poet is felt to be work- 
 ing the wires to which his characters are attached ; in the Drama of Individualism,, the 
 dramatist disappears in the personality of his characters, working out their own ' fates ' 
 for weal or woe. 
 
 To emphasise the difference between Drama and Epical Poetry, a likeness 
 might be drawn from another department of Art, — Painting or Sculpture. 
 A series of paintings, or bas-reliefs, does not make a drama by a very long 
 way, but makes an Epic, as far as it is possible for a different Art to do this. 
 A disconnected series of pictures, each presenting a particular ' dramatic 
 moment,' lacks that causal connection which lies at the very foundation G 2 
 of subjective Drama or Drama at its highest, most highly differentiated as 
 an Art from other Arts. There are dramatic moments which can be seized 
 by the brush or chisel ; but there is another part to a drama, and that is 
 the dramatic development — the causal succession of the whole, including 
 those dramatic moments in which the will is forced to display itself in an 
 act of volition of import to the various personages. Nor would a com- 
 plete series of instantaneous photographs convey, with any intensity 
 (vividness) the development of a Drama; the photographs might give a 
 complete statement concerning the movements of the actors and their 
 various changes of expression — of the mimic — but the language of the 
 emotions, ' gesture and expression,' is too vague a language to tell dis- 
 tinctly and definitely the development of the drama, especially of that 
 part which is unseen, — the psychical development. Gesture and expres- 
 sion make an excellent auxiliary language to enforce the spoken language, 
 but, as an independent mode of expression, 'mimic' is as indefinite as 
 Music to express the details of the development. Both Music and gesture 
 are powerful adjuncts to language, but they are not definite enough in 
 themselves to make a dramatic action clear. In the definite expression 
 of complex details, speech has been developed far beyond either gesture 
 or Music. 
 
 Wagner largely eliminates the melodramatic element of chance from his dramas; all 
 is motivirt — no accidents ; not only objective chance occurrences are eliminated, but 
 
42 THE STYLE OF: THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 Every occurrence is the result of a cause which appears in the dramatic development, 
 and that cause itself is usually shown to be generated by the natural excitation of emotions 
 in the minds of the actors. In other words, the whole action springs from mthin— it is 
 not impressed on the course of events from without. The whole drama takes its beginning 
 from mental activities. Even the curse which is laid on the 'Ring' does not cause any 
 catastrophe which would not have come without the pronounced curse. It is the personal 
 greed for gold which brings the holder of the ring into trouble, for he is then envied by 
 others. 
 
 The 'inner' drama is complete within itself; it does not require any dtus ex machina 
 to regulate its movement from time to time— to appear in a cloud and save his favourites 
 from the hand of the enemy. Justice is attained without the accidental (!) arrival of the 
 sheriffs posse just in time. It satisfies OS. 
 
 C2 For a like reason, a severity of dramatic development is necessary. 
 
 Tristan (the first act) is a remarkable instance of this severity of dramatical 
 development. The adroit manner in which the conversation is turned that 
 it may display the motivation of the drama in a most clear and pregnant 
 form, almost suggests the suspicion that this adroit arrangement was the 
 result of cold reflection, not feeling. The object of terseness of dialogue 
 and severity in the succession of the dramatic motives, are phases of that 
 'Style ' of treatment which is required for a musical Drama as differen- 
 tiated from other forms of Drama. The Drama must explain itself to the 
 spectator with the maximum of clearness and the minimum of exertion of 
 the intellect of the spectator, in order that the Music may exercise its full 
 effect on the senses of the auditor. The ' Conversation-Drama ' is a most 
 unlyrical form in another respect, viz. in that there is a minimum of action, 
 of acting. A lively action is fitted for the musical Drama for two reasons, — 
 first, because such a lively action conveys the Drama to the spectator's 
 mind directly through the eye, which leaves the attention clear for the 
 appreciation of the Music, both vocal and orchestral ; secondly, because 
 actions are the outcome of emotions, and the Music-Drama is pre-eminently 
 an emotional form of drama. It will be seen that the modern ' conversation ' 
 Drama is highly wnlyrical ; it explains itself almost solely through speech 
 appealing to the intellect, and not acting through the eye, and since the 
 speakers are so verbose, it may well be seen that strong emotions and 
 spontaneous expression have not much place therein. 
 
 Severe development then, but not extensive or complicated. A closely 
 woven web, but a small number of threads. A simple dramatic action may 
 be severe in its dramatic development (p. 51). 
 Cj (Cj) Consistency and (Gja) Lyric are both aspects of O2 — of that 
 
 ®3 a Unity which is necessary lest the quality C of Music be disastrously dis- 
 regarded. Both are a protest against the distraction of the spectator's (viz. 
 hearer's) attention, and have their special application to the point of perfect 
 agreement between the orchestral Music and the emotions arising out of a 
 dramatic ' situation ' (see footnote, p. 54), and also between the emotions of 
 the characters and the vocal dialogue in which they express these emotions. 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 43 
 
 That this consistency will really mitigate the disseverance of attention can 
 be readily grasped by the reader, and if he be familiar with Opera he will 
 recognise in' these two canons a protest against a feature that, in its most 
 tantalising stage, amounted simply to heartless insincerity against which 
 the next canon protests. The music should agree in its expression with 
 the emotions it expresses, and the vocal music should do the same ; and, 
 conversely, the emotions should be such as call for expression in instru- 
 mental and vocal music, and none others. Further, the agreement should 
 be definite to the point of agreeing with that ' measured ' character of 
 Music which appears as tempo, severe rhythm, perfect harmony, etc. 
 
 {C 4) Sincerity. — We are keenly sensitive to insincerity of expression G4. 
 on the part of any character posing as sincere. Thus the sincerity of deep 
 grief may be completely belied by an unfitting vocal style which compels 
 the character to display vocal ' execution ' instead of the grief which he 
 is represented as feeling. Another discrepancy between vocal style and 
 emotion is that where the emotion is expressed by some purely ' conven- 
 tional' musical phrase, such as the recitative secco. Conventional Music 
 savours of the conventional forms of speech employed in polite address in 
 order to hide a lack of any real feeling. (Cf. p. 111.) 
 
 One of the chief reformatory features of the Music-Drama consists in 
 getting rid of a vocal style founded upon conventional phrases and upon 
 the display of ability in vocal execution. 
 
 (Cj) Symbolism. — Symbolising enables the dramatist to exclude dis- C5 
 tractive episode in small details even. The Stage performs its function of 
 rendering the musical expression as clear and vivid as possible, when every 
 detail expresses something connected with the dramatic action. As ' attri- 
 butes ' of a character (the spear or sword, etc.), objects may become 
 symbols of the character bearing the objects ; a ' cumulative ' effect is 
 attained by expressing a fact in as many ways as possible, providing they 
 are relevant and do not clash. By a complete conspiracy of the factors a 
 cumulative effect is attained, which would be impossible otherwise. Sym- 
 bolism is really a feature of that ' economy of energy ' before referred to, 
 and is closely allied to dramatic Unity (C 2). In becoming a symbol of 
 some psychic feature of a Drama an object is prevented from becoming a 
 '.distracting ' feature, a mere episode, of the scene. The climax of dramatic 
 expressiveness would be reached if every object presented by the stage to 
 the eye of the spectator were a symbol of something entering into the 
 dramatic development (motif). If the scenery as well were made symbolic 
 of the general emotional pitch of the scene (somewhat as the general 
 colour-tone of a picture might agree with the poetic sentiment of that 
 represented), and we were sensitively attuned to such effects, the Stage 
 might speak, all objects become enlivened by the dramatic and poetical life 
 breathed into them. The naive association of wings, and robes, and harps 
 in the conception of heaven has a world of meaning for the Music-Drama, 
 
H . THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 for it bespeaks that cumulation of details to an expressive end, which is 
 symbolism even to the fineness of Music. 
 
 Under symbolism is included all of those poetic devices for rendering 
 Poetry vivid and easy of comprehension (cf. H. Spencer, Essay on Philosophy 
 of Style) putting the concrete and particular for the abstract and general, 
 etc. Cf. in Tanrihcmser the visible branch or staff with leaves as a concrete 
 (vivid because miraculous) sign of forgiveness, far more effective than a 
 mere verbal form of forgiveness, especially in connection with the Pope's 
 prediction. — Tannhauser, iii., last scene. 
 Cj It is of the utmost importance that everything should be clear on 
 
 the stage, for if the ' inner Drama;' is to be revealed to the spectators, 
 every consistent mode of revelation or expression should be utilised. 
 All that is possible should be done to enable the Stage to perform its func- 
 tion most perfectly, that is, of making the pathos of the Music recognisable. 
 Now character is the important factor in the ' inner conflicts,' and a great 
 service may be rendered if it can be brought to the surface and presented 
 directly to the spectators. Of course, this is commonly effected by the 
 outward ' make up ' or ' mask ' of each actor, but it should be still more 
 carefully attended to in the Music-Drama. Symbolism is an important 
 aid in revealing the inner nature of a character to the spectators, one 
 feature of its efficacy being that it is not only an ' outward and visible 
 sign ' of the inner character of the bearer, but that the character is made 
 thereby more concrete, less abstract, consequently more comprehensible. 
 It is a common device of the poets to put concrete images for abstract ideas 
 since the mind grasps the former more easily than- the latter. Symbols 
 are more or less conventional, ranging from a fish to a cross or a lamb as a 
 symbol of Christ. The ' thunderbolts of Jove ' have become proverbial, and 
 most of the heathen gods have their peculiar ' attributes.' In the Ring of 
 the Nibelungen Wagner has made the ' ring,' the ' spear,' and the ' sword ' 
 symbols of the whole dramatic action ; these ' attributes ' almost constitute 
 a drama in themselves. (Cf. p. 103.) 
 
 As regards Costume as an exponent of character a whole chapter might 
 be writted. The modern costume of men tends towards uniformity both in 
 form and colour. As far as cut and colour are concerned, the dress of the 
 President of the United States does not differ from that of his fellow- 
 citizens, and even the workman may be seen working in a stiff felt hat 
 more suited to the promenade. Boys assume the ' toga of their fathers ' 
 long before there is any ' pretext ' therefor. 
 
 Decided colours scarcely dare to show themselves, and even in eccle- 
 siastical and military dress, the tendency is towards the sombre unobtru- 
 sive blacks and greys. The citizen, the soldier, the priest, and the ruler, 
 are no longer distinguished as in the days of the toga and the suit of 
 armour. All this has its good side, perhaps, as regards actual life, but 
 it shows more clearly that the form of Drama which shall be the most 
 
DERIVATION OF THE CANONS. 45 
 
 beautiful we can devise would hardly present an imitation of contemporary 
 life. "We may hope that the prestige of Shakespeare's plays may serve to 
 keep alive an appreciation of a most picturesque feature of days gone 
 by — costume. The tenacity with which modern sculptors hold to the 
 Classical Form of garment in which to drape their potentates, may seem 
 at times rather amusing, but it is natural, for the modern ' business suit ' 
 cannot be said to be Sculpturesque. In renouncing decided colours in 
 dress, we have done away with the thorough appreciation of an expressive 
 feature of costume for Stage purposes — the symbolism of colour. It seems 
 surprising that anything so subtle and complex as character, can be in 
 any way associated with mere colour sensations, and yet there are certain 
 colours which are so fitted to certain characters and occasions, that they 
 can aid in determining our sentiments. The association of black with death 
 has received the sanction of the civilised world. White and purity, purple 
 and royalty, rose colqur and youth, brown and grey and humility, a motley 
 of colours and frivolity, are instances of more or less conventional sym- 
 bolism of colour. More will be said of colour in the part relating to 
 scenery (cf. 10, Costume, p. 136). 
 
 (Z?) Emotion. — That the remarkable emotional quality of Music dis- D 
 cussed in the last chapter under D, should be disregarded in considering 
 the form of the Music-Drama would be an inexcusable neglect to utUise 
 a very potent quality of Music, and a disregard of the general principle 
 of Art ' that an Art ought to cultivate those qualities which are natural 
 to it by virtue of its materials, mode of execution, psychic qualities, etc.' 
 The inference is that all parts of the Music-Drama ought to display an 
 emotional character — ought to be the expression of feeling — to any extent 
 consistent with the integrity of Style. This was really taken into consi- 
 deration when dramatic Poetry was predicated as the form suitable to 
 constitute a Style (see Chap. I.). But a further application is possible 
 in defining what Dramatic Poetry is. 
 
 (E) Expression asserts that every part of the Music-Drama ought to E 
 agree with quality D of Music (p. 32) not only in being emotional, but 
 also in being expressive of the emotions. If the action is to be founded upon 
 emotion, the characters entering into the Drama will be such as express 
 their emotions spontaneously, instead of attempting to inhibit the expres- 
 sion of them, and will thus help to explain the action and Music to the 
 spectators (C 2). In this service the canon might be derived from quality 
 G of Music, for one of the greatest aids to the explanation of the emotional 
 content of the Music is the Stage with all its phenomena of expression, 
 visible and otherwise, and this means the maximum of expression of 
 emotions consistent with integrity of Style. 
 
 E like A depends partly upon the general situation (p. 35), proposed 
 by the Music-Drama, of Drama with musical undercurrent, and dialogue. 
 For, just as canon A was derived from the consideration of the unavoidable 
 
46 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 artificiality of this 'general situation/ so canon ^'is derived from the 
 perforce emotional nature of musical dialogue, and hence the necessity 
 for such a situation as shall justify such an unusual and abnormal form 
 of expression as musical dialogue. Unless there be an emotion concerned 
 of such a strong or lofty nature as to demand such an elated form of 
 expression as this, there is no call for it whatever. Such a musical diction 
 would be as uncalled for as in that case in Poetry, in which a strong 
 emotional diction is employed to express very ordinary and unemotional 
 subject-matter— commonly called bombast. Here we discern its affiliation 
 with A and B, for the latter demands a situation which calls for a diction 
 and atmosphere so far above that of ordinary life as vocal and instru- 
 mental Music are, and this could naturally only be a diction differing 
 from that of ordinary life (A). 
 
 This may serve to summarise the matter of the canons, and serves to 
 show what an intimate correlation exists among them. They agree among 
 themselves, as well as having agreement or harmony or Style for their 
 object, and one depends upon the other, and all are referable to the peculiar 
 properties of Music that require a situation more emotional than ordinary 
 real ones are (D) ; more emotional in a direction consistent with musical 
 dialogue {E)\ different from everyday life {A), and different from it in 1 
 respect of 'more beautiful' (2?); more simple (<?/); more severe in 
 dramatic sequence (C2); perfectly harmonious in all parts and details 
 (Cj), (Cja), (C4), (Gj), all springing from the sesthetical, artificial, 'imme- 
 diate-presentative,' and emotional qualities of Music in connection with 
 the ' general situation ' of Stage, Orchestral Music, and sung dialogue, pro 1 
 posed by the Music-Drama as an Art-species (Chap. I.). 
 
 The foregoing also serves to bring vividly to one's mind what is meant 
 when the Music-Drama is termed an ' ideal ' or ' idealistic ' Art. All the 
 above canons are simply expressions of the various sides of this quality. 
 They assert the necessity for a certain kind of ' removal from the aspects 
 of everyday life ' as the conditio sine qua non of perfect harmony under the 
 conditions proposed by the Music-Drama, and this is the predominating' 
 character of the Music-Drama as disclosed by a preliminary examination 
 in Chaps. I. and II., and as will appear with greater and greater cogency 
 throughout the remaining pages. Let no one be frightened by the words 
 ' ideal and ' idealistic,' they are simply terms for what is done in all art- 
 works when beautiful objects are chosen for depiction rather than ugly 
 or filthy ones, and in daily life when a corresponding choice is made in 
 subjects for conversation or for day-dreams, or in kindly and gentle ways 
 of acting towards one another, in dress, buildings, mode of life, and proper 
 sanitary arrangements. It is only part and parcel of that general selee— 
 tive tendency displayed in the most commonplace activities of life, as well 
 as in art-works. 
 
47 
 
 III. 
 
 APPLICATION OE THE CANONS. 
 
 1. DRAMATIC IDEA. 
 
 (Subject, Idea, and the Condition for its Stylistic Development.) 
 
 Some general dramatic idea is usually to be deduced from a drama, and it 
 naturally suggests itself to us that the particular drama was the mental 
 outcome and development of this general dramatic idea. Whether such is 
 the mode of composing a modern drama, or is the best mode for composing 
 the dramatic web of the Music-Drama, does not need discussion here. The 
 point is that if the composition does start from a germ, as from a 
 general dramatic idea such as the ' triumph of pure self-sacrificing love over 
 desire for riches and power,' then that germ should display certain qualities 
 and should be mentally developed in a peculiar way. It will make some 
 of the succeeding points clearer if we assume some such theoretical mode 
 of composition. Many nascent features had to be touched upon in part 
 (1) that are subsequently treated more fully in the following parts. 
 
 Prom this probably arises the fact that many operas and literary works 
 even that seem so promising, when read merely as plots or as short stories, 
 are disappointing when seen or read in the original form from which the 
 resume is condensed. It is the/orai into which the basial idea is cast that 
 is displeasing. The Oid, for instance, is a remarkably beautiful and dramatic 
 theme, but may be disappointing to the reader of Ooraeille's drama 
 from the artificial form into which it is cast. We can fancy Pope treating 
 the idea of Siegfried in a very different way from Wagner. (Cf. the effect 
 of the wig upon out-of-doox characters in his translation of Homer.) It is 
 for this reason possibly that so many operas do not come up to the expec- 
 tations of them engendered by reading the underlying idea only. The 
 difference between good and bad dramas lies largely just in the difference 
 between the forms into which the idea is cast, not in the idea itself. One 
 could hardly judge of the merits of an opera from its condensed action as 
 displayed in a " guide to the opera." For aiight to the contrary, the basial 
 idea of Tannh&user might be presented in modern form just as well as in 
 medieval setting, but in the importance for the Music-Drama of avoiding.. 
 
48 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 the modern dress-suit lies all the fitness of the idea for the artistic form of 
 representation of the Music-Drama. With regard to this possibility of 
 multiplicity of form, notice how fertile that fundamental idea of 'redemp- 
 tion ' was in the hands of Wagner. The idea of redemption by an expiatory 
 sacrifice underlies the dramas of Tannhauser, Flying Dutchman, Tristan, 
 Ring of the Niblungs, and Parsifal, which in other respects are as far apart 
 as the overtures or preludes to them are musically different. 
 
 In the composition of the Music-Drama, theoretically, all parts should spring into exist- 
 ence in connection With one another, and, if possible, the work should be of one casting. 
 Practically, the construction of a Music-Drama will hardly enjoy such a Palladic com- 
 pleteness of genesis. (It is interesting in this connection to peruse a somewhat detailed 
 account of R. Wagner's productivity, and to fancy the immense amount of practice which 
 he enjoyed in his long career as artist.) The conception will probably be of gradual 
 growth, and will be affected by various considerations during its mental conception, such 
 influence being quite as essential as those special considerations which apply to the separate 
 parts in their ultimate form. However, the considerations will be alike in both cases. 
 This preliminary part will be of a very general nature. 
 
 It is very interesting to study the changes which some of Wagner's works underwent 
 before they reached their final shape, for this process of each part being affected by the 
 other parts is therein displayed vividly. (Cf. G-. Nouflard upon the matter of trial and 
 rejection in the case of Wagner with reference to the subjects of Frederick Barharossa, 
 Jesus of Nazareth, and Wieland. All goes to show that the works by which Wagner is 
 known are the outcome of a process of "survival of the fittest" in Wagner's mind, and, 
 in the case of Wieland it seems easy to see why it did not survive in competing with 
 Siegfried.) 
 
 A The subject-matter in general must not strongly suggest any dis- 
 
 & tinctive traits of modern life. Whether conceived or merely chosen, the 
 B germ and development thereof should be engendered in a thoroughly 
 aesthetic atmosphere. 
 
 Inner Beauty and outer Beauty are to be the subsequent results of 
 conception and cultivation of the fundamental idea. 
 
 As regards the subject and subject-matter and dramatic idea, it ought to 
 be exposed to the constant influence of aesthetic sentiments and of practica- 
 bility of staging in connection with Music. This is better explained under 
 the particular heads. A good idea of it is to be obtained by comparing and 
 contrasting the "pictorial and other aspects of Wagner's works with those of 
 various operas. They are artistic. They show at delicate taste in the 
 selection and arrangement of details, quite aside from the Music. There is 
 a characteristic evasion of the disgusting, and coarse, and commonplace and 
 unpicturesque in the details. The composer of the Music-Drama ought to 
 possess the delicate sensitiveness of the painter and poet as regards the 
 selection of the multitude of material objects and spiritual affairs entering 
 into his work. 
 
 Intimately associated with this conscious or instinctive pursuit of 
 the beautiful in an art sense, is the avoidance of much that surrounds usi 
 in our everyday life and solicits our attention or dulls our sense of the 
 
•1, DRAMATIC IDEA. 49 
 
 •Beautiful as possible to the enthusiastic phantasy. Wagner was very care- 
 ful about his surroundings during the composing of a work', and his corre- 
 spondence makes frequent mention of the difficulties of conceiving an ideal 
 world in adverse surroundings. Perhaps music aided his imagination. 
 It seems so easy to follow a conception already completed, such as that 
 offered by his works, that we easily fall into the way of supposing the 
 original conception of Lohengrin, Tannhduser, Tristan, The Ming, and 
 Parsifal were very simple matters. As a matter of fact the ' ideal world ' 
 referred to is extremely difficult to inhabit while in converse with the 
 actual world. 
 
 It was part of Wagner's theory that the Art of Painting should lend its aid to ti)e 
 Music-Drama. Withal, the use of elahorate Scenery as an accompaniment of the Drama 
 seems to be a modern development — to have developed along with the rise of the theatre 
 as we know and understand it, a roofed building set apart for performances of Drama, 
 lighted artificially, and provided with complicated apparatus for the placing of the scenery. 
 (Of. stage arrangements of opera house in Paris.) The open-air theatre of the ancient 
 Greeks was obviously unfitted for the display of such attempts at imitations of natural 
 scenery as the modern theatre represents. The stage of Shakespeare's time seems to have 
 dispensed with anything except mere indications of the nature of a scene. 
 
 Wagner's idea is unusual in so far as it not only proposes ' Scenery,' but also that the 
 stage as a whole shall present a series of paintings rivalling the products of Painting as a 
 "separate Art in beauty and loftiness. Moreover, the scenery is not to be mere surprising 
 spectacular effects, detracting from the dramatic action, but rather so agreeing in tone with 
 the dramatic situations that it will add force to the dramatic effect of the situations. 
 
 The deliberate seeking for the most beautiful effects in scenes foreshadows an Art of 
 Scenery Painting in a new idealistic style. There are two moments in the process : the 
 conception of the beautiful and lofty scenes, which devolves on the compiler of the action ; 
 the execution of the conceptions with reference to Painting as a high Art. This presupposes 
 the author Of the Music to be endowed with a keen sense of pictorial beauty, and a school 
 of scene-painters capable of carrying out the conceptions that they may realise the author's 
 desired effect with reference to the dramatic action. That the whole idea differs from the 
 usual one concerning the relation of Dramatic Art to Painting is shown by the different 
 mode of procedure which is proposed. It has been deemed sufficient to write a Drama, 
 and then supply it with whatever mise-en-sce'ne its situations called for, not to keep in 
 mind a pictorial situation from the very beginning. Moreover, since the Drama itself was 
 seldom ' idealistic,' it called for no higher effort on the part of the scene-painter than a 
 more or less close imitation of objects which he could see every day. The Music-Drama, 
 on the contrary, calls for an essential participation of pictorial Art in its conception, it 
 proposes to please the eye of the spectator with Paintings as well as delight his ear with A 
 Music. Hence, the Drama should be conceived in ' terms of Painting ' from the beginning, & 
 that is, one of the motives to its conception should be the love of the loftiest pictorial n 
 fancies of which the artistic mind is capable. The Music-Drama cannot hope to vie with 
 naturalistic Drama in power, it proposes to outvie it in beauty and loftiness, and not 
 without reasonable hopes of success, for it has at its disposal several of the most beautiful " 
 agencies which the human mind has been able to devise — orchestral and vocal Music, most 
 beautiful fancies of the poet, and the Art of highly imaginative Painting including repre- 
 sentations of Architecture. So far as means are concerned, the Music-Drama is fully 
 equipped to vie with any work of Art, for it wields the highest Arts which man has devised. 
 The Music-Drama is compelled to renounce the dramatic power of realism, but in exchange 
 it has gained the privilege of freely wielding the recognised Arts of beauty and nobility. 
 Just therein also lies its weakness before a world which judges it from the standpoint of 
 older Arts without appreciating the unique character of its Style. For instance, the critics 
 
 E 
 
50 THE STtLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 who can see nothing but Drama as a separate Art are horrified at the idea of allowing 
 pictorial beauty to enter as an essential factor into the conception of the action. They 
 see the destruction of all dramatic truth in this intrusion of a deliberate proposal to display 
 what is leawti/ul. Quite right, perhaps, when referring to Drama in itself (for if we 
 propose to imitate daily life, we cannot begin with the scenery in compiling our drama), 
 but not at all justified towards an Art which has consciously chosen the beautiful effects of 
 jPainting as one of its prime factors, and, at the same time, rejects any efforts to imitate 
 the aspects of modern everyday life. Canons of criticism relating to an existing Art must 
 be intelligently altered if they are to be applied to a new and different Art. It is not a 
 sufficient confutation of the foregoing to point to the deplorable effect of the craze for 
 scenic effects in the case of the Opera. This point is subsequently cleared np. 
 
 B General Effect aimed ah. — We have an example in Architecture of an 
 
 Art which does not move us to tears, but nevertheless takes its place as an 
 Art despite of its deplorably evident lack of dramatic realism.' 
 
 There is a particular reason -why the Music-Drama is liable to suffer in 
 striving to equal the independent Drama in dramatic intensity, namely the 
 distraction of the mind by a multiplicity of the agencies which affect it. 
 
 C I If eye, and ear, and intellect are conjointly stimulated, there is danger 
 
 O2 of over-stimulation, or rather of distraction of attention, leading either to 
 weariness or to destruction of dramatic effect. (Cf. p. 126.) 
 
 The proposal to make a new Art by combining certain features of 
 Music, Drama, and Painting, is particularly daring in a day which is 
 exulting over the triumphs of Naturalism in Arts, high and small. People 
 who are used to judging every art-work by the closeness with which it 
 
 B imitates actual persons and things, will hardly show much pity towards an 
 Art which avowedly rejects close imitation. People whose critical sense is 
 based on the photographic apparatus will easily detect the futility of any 
 Art which places fanciful Beauty above slavish imitation. Scores of people 
 will go into ecstacies over the ' naturalness ' of a painting of various 
 eatables where one will find interest in a poetic fancy in colour. 
 
 C 1 As the action should be conceived in a pictorial spirit, so it should be 
 
 conceived in a musical spirit, viz. in a spirit of repose and in a measured 
 Style. The fault of the ' Opera ' lay, not so much in its simple text, as in 
 the inconsistencies between the text and the Music, including the total 
 insincerity of the vocal part. Simplicity of the text is required — all 
 sententiousness is out of place. The Opera would not have sinned in 
 introducing the spectacular element had this itself been an organic and 
 essential part of the Drama which it interrupted. The fault of ballet was 
 
 C 2 not so much that it was spectacular, but rather that it was in itself not 
 beautiful, and had no connection with the Drama into which it was inter- 
 polated. 
 
 • This means that in general, the development of the dramatic seed must 
 
 C 1 be carefully watched, or it will throw out too many sprouts. Its luxuri- 
 ance must be carefully pruned. It dare not become complicated. It is 
 conceivable that a dramaturgy of the dramatic plot of the Music-Dram^ 
 
1. DKAMATIC IDEA. 51 
 
 might be much simpler than that of pure Drama with its " plot " and 
 " under plot," and various complications more or less intended and effective, 
 and its excruciating mysteries and 'oracular irony.' The subject must 
 avoid being too deep, viz. it should have a sensuous face-value which shall 
 be artistically all-sufficient whether its sententiousness be comprehended 
 or not. With the proviso that its depth shall not injure it, it may be deep 
 enough to baffle the commentary-ists even. There is a very great difference 
 between ' Schopenhauer in Wagner's works,' and the explicit philosophical 
 excursions and side remarks of many modern poets. It is very easy to 
 throw a word or two into a verse of poetry, which may suggest a world 
 of. Philosophy, but would be sadly destructive to the simple sensuous 
 nature of Music. 
 
 (Note in this regard that much of the Poetry of the Brownings is very 
 instructive as regards the Style of the Music-Drama, viz. in so far as it 
 presents some of the most unlyrical situations and verse possible. It is 
 worth while taking some portions of K. Browning's poems, and fancying 
 them being sung in the ' general situation ' of the words of a Music-Drama. 
 Cf. p. 56.) 
 
 Plastic Simplicity. — In Sculpture we have a case of necessity for Q t 
 simplicity (due to the material and means of execution) and a suggestion of 
 the way in which it is attained (Selection rigorously practised, viz. rejec- 
 tion of unimportant details, and massing, and suggestiveness). It is 
 instructive to compare the dramas Wagner created with the rambling 
 episodes out of which he drew his materials — -a mass comparable to those 
 modern bas-reliefs of battles, popular manifestations, etc., which are per- 
 vaded by startling objects in every square inch of their surface, a whole 
 rabble of heads and figures huddled together into the precincts of those 
 small squares of stone that sometimes ornament a public monument. 
 The mind of the spectator looking at such a melodramatic muddle, 
 experiences no deep impression of the totality, but is absorbed in successive 
 details which do not reinforce each other. There is a simple boldness of 
 treatment necessary that well applies to the Music-Drama when it is 
 said that the action should be plastic, viz. sculpturesque. 
 
 The following principle holds in general for a Compound Art :— 
 Each part ought to be such that it would he less effective if taken by itself. The Meister- 
 singef would make a good theme for a ' play ' (notice the length of the text — 130 pages). 
 Perhaps Wagner went a little too far in his dramatic fulness and showed his dramatic 
 tendencies too strongly for the Style of the Music-Drama. Notice its effect upon the Music 
 (i. 2), where Davjd displays at length the tortuous route of the apprentice and master. 
 This, together with some of Wotan's dialogue and King Mark's, shows the nature of the 
 unlyrical situation and ideas. If we condemn the worn-out recitative secco of Operas, we 
 have grounds for finding fault with some of the tonal deserts of Wagner, in spite of their 
 originality as contrasted with the hackneyed recitative secco. It seems probable that any 
 argument for such passages on the basis of their contrast \s not sanctioned by the general 
 character of Music. For Music it is not valid to urge sticking pins into one's self in order 
 to verify the relief which follows the removal of the pins and undoubtedly forms a 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 ' contrast.' We are not dealing with spoken Drama. Moreover, it is not sufficient to aver 
 that the Opera erred in occasionally treating such serious subject-matter in too joyous a 
 B musical strain. The point is that the Music-Drama should call for no such prosaic situa- 
 tions and their corresponding modes of expression. 
 
 This holds of the Vocal Style as well. That the Vocal Style should lack all musical 
 beauty is as complete a mistake as could be made. The musical realism of some of 
 "Wagner's declamatory phrases (they are almost spoken phrases, cf. Meistersinger, 
 Act i., Magdalene and Eva) has been much praised by some. The procedure is of 
 doubtful merit. (Cf. Siegfried.) One attains thereby neither one nor the other effect, 
 neither real language nor pleasing Music. It is presumable that the raison d'etre of the 
 Music- Drama is its Music. 
 
 Underlying these considerations will be recognised a principle of wide prevalence, that 
 of the • ^Esthetic division of labour,' which asserts that. ' an Art should cultivate the direc- 
 tion peculiar to itself springing out of the Materials employed, Tools, Mode of Execution 
 (function of object, if any), aesthetic effects easiest attainable as distinguished from those 
 obtaining in other Arts ' ; as a corollary, ' each part of a Compound Art should do the same 
 within the bounds of consistency with the peculiar tendency of the Compound Art as a 
 whole.' Cf. ' aesthetic specialisation ' in Questions. 
 
 As regards the propriety of exposing E. Wagner's works to a calm, critical consideration, 
 the attitude of Heinrich Bulthaupt seems strikingly reasonable (Dramaturgic der Oper, 
 vol. ii. The Bing). In substance it amounts to about this. Wagner's works stand as 
 monuments, and their astonishing merits serve to carry the hearer over features open to 
 criticism. There is no more occasion for deeming them infallible in every respect than 
 there is for applying to them the old worn-out rules of the stage. All that is demanded 
 is that the few faults are not exalted into highest virtues to mislead future effort. 
 
 Judicious criticism refers, not so much to Wagner's works as to those which will (it is 
 to be hoped) appear in answer to the question ' What next ? ' Eor it is to be hoped that 
 such a glorious attempt at the realisation of a new Art will not remain for ever at the 
 point of the works which Wagner has left to the world. 
 
 Here it may be remarked that it is questionable whether Wagner's tetralogy (or trilogy) 
 ' — the Sing — can safely pose as the norm of proportions for subsequent imitation. Recog- 
 nising in this colossal work a work of national importance, its extensiveness is more justified 
 than might be the case under different circumstances than those of ' covering the field 'of the 
 Siegfried myths and that of the almost national performance of 1876 in Bayreuth. It is 
 ■conceivable that Wagner was greatly stimulated by the materials offered him, and possibly 
 by his intense leaning towards dramatic completeness — a tendency which greatly aided his 
 reform. In spite of the resort to a multipart performance and numerous interlegomena 
 requiring narrative scenes for their elucidation, the action of the Sing remains very com- 
 plicated and difficult to grasp. For one thing, there is considerable intrigue entering into 
 ■ the action, and this in itself is of doubtful propriety in a Music-Drama, and necessitates 
 considerable explanations or explanatory situations. In attempting to conceive clearly the 
 norm of the Music-Drama it must not be forgotten how fiercely the mind is being stimu- ' 
 lated by the many sensuous elements. Cf. the intrigue scenes in Verdi's Otello, notably 
 that one in the second act (handkerchief scene) in which Iago succeeds, in spite of the 
 audibility of sung dialogue at short range, and the exigencies of musical rhythm, etc. 
 
 q T The ideas should be preventative, not reminiscent or prophetic. On the 
 
 whole the memory should be taxed as little as possible. This would be 
 the place to inquire what mental faculties require a minimum of ex- 
 penditure of energy, but the subject belongs more to ^Esthetics in general. 
 One might also say that those mental faculties of the auditors should 
 be most catered to which are ' pure human' in the sense of most primitive 
 in the mental development of Man. 
 
1. DEAMATIC IDEA. 53 
 
 Seasoning with symbols. __ 
 
 Compound reasoning. 
 
 Simple reasoning. 
 
 Conception. 
 
 Perception. 
 
 Feeling. 
 
 Sensation, 
 
 This list, read from below upwards, may serve to display roughly the Ci 
 theoretical steps in the ladder of mental activities going towards the 
 intellect. The mental reverberations resulting from exposure of the mind <fc 
 to the stimuli caused by an art-work may be fancied as spreading gradually 
 upward and awakening these successive activities of the mind until they 
 end in the purely abstract and scientific activity of the study of art-works. D 
 The upper rounds are exhilarating, but very risky, and woe betide the 
 art-work that proposes to enjoy the upper rounds without a good sensuous 
 basis or aesthetic face-value to keep it from that negative, but effective, 
 death of lapse into desuetude as the ages roll on. 
 
 This refers also to the poetic ' figures of speech ' employed. They are 
 by no means alike. Some may be very difficult. On the whole they 
 should fulfil the conditions of (A) not suggesting the outer aspects of 
 everyday life in its modern phases ; (B) they should be highly msthetical ; 
 
 (C) they should aid the mind in comprehending the Drama, and should 
 themselves be easy of comprehension (C i), viz. simple and sensuous (£) ; 
 
 (D) they should be emotional in character rather than idyllic or epic, viz. 
 their suggestiveness should be in the direction of the dramatic action, and 
 not distracting or abstract. 
 
 Nature of Drama in General. — Viewing Drama as a human product 
 arising slowly through a course of trial and rejection, it is interesting to 
 note that it has been guided by human feeling into a field which is per- 
 haps the most fit — the more purely human field of volition. 
 
 Man stands apart from animals more in respect to his will-power 
 than any other faculty. Hence, if we wished to brew an Art which 
 should be as human as possible, and exciting at the same time, we should 
 found it on that highly human act — the act of volition. At the same 
 time we should be choosing the most exciting or stimulating feature of 
 man's life, for the act of volition is the very battle ground of our inner 
 life. " Shall I do this, shall I do that " ? — I am forced to do one or the 
 other, and yet upon the one may rest life, and upon the other may rest 
 death. This forced choice of ways which lead to heaven or to hell is the 
 most momentous act in its solution that we can conceive of. Note that 
 this act is often surrounded in plays by appurtenances such as ink and 
 paper, in order to fix the attention of the auditors more vividly on the 
 decisive act. 
 
54 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 That the 'act of volition' is the very essence of Drama may be seen 
 in the likeness of development of drama and an act of volition. It is as 
 if a drama were itself merely a gigantic act of volition. There is the 
 ' opening ' or the setting forth of the motives to the act of volition ; next 
 comes the ' growth ' in which the springs of action are drawn more tense ; 
 I) the 'height' or 'climax' is reached at the most momentous part of the 
 act of volition, where the mental decision is demanded and given. Now 
 comes the act itself— the performance of that inner resolution, and the 
 drama proceeds through the 'fall,' or consequence of that act, to the 
 momentous 'catastrophe' which closes the drama, and stamps the act of 
 volition as vain and fatal, and crushes the victim like the sledge of Fate. 
 The development of a drama may be taken as a mere extension and 
 elaboration of an ' act of volition ' : Drama, as a whole, is a living com- 
 mentary on that feature of our lives, the ' act of volition.' The import- 
 ance of this for Music-Drama is seen under Leading Motives, p. 90 ; and 
 compare the very intimate relation between Emotions, Motives, and Act 
 of Volition. 
 
 Moreover, we are here enabled to see the reason why Drama and 
 morals are so closely associated. Moral action is founded upon the ' act of 
 volition.' Drama is founded upon the act of volition. This is the meeting 
 point of the two departments. Objectively, we see this meeting point in 
 the fact that the majority of tragedies are founded upon some moral conflict. 
 In other words, the particular ' act of volition ' chosen for dramatic expo- 
 sition is generally one not of a mere arbitrary character, like the choice of 
 one road rather than another, or even a smooth road rather than a rough 
 path, but the act of choosing a path which is not public, which lies across 
 fields which are trespassed upon by walking through them, which are 
 contrary to the "conventions (more or less reasonable) of society. 
 
 Dramas being usually the exposition of a phase of immorality, the 
 question for the Music-Drama arises, " Is the phase of immorality amenable 
 to our Canons ? " Can a crime be lyric ? Ought the particular phase of 
 immorality in act or desire chosen (conceived) for a music-drama to be 
 peculiar in any way ? 
 
 The Canons can be applied, and a comparison of E. Wagner's works 
 with Operas shows that he appreciated the point fully. 
 
 (A) The crime should not be one suggestive of distinctively, modem life. 
 (B) The phase of immorality should be a poetic, a romantic one, and not 
 physically unajsthetic (there is a great difference between physical filth 
 and immorality). (C) and (D) The crime should be sesthetical in the sense 
 of simple, not complicated, and of an emotional nature, not arising from or 
 consisting in mere intellectual reasoning. It should be due to feeling (D), 
 display human probability (0 2), and not be a merely local phase of im- 
 morality. That forgery -(cf. Scott's Marmion) does not satisfy the above 
 detailed conditions will be evident upon consideration. 
 
2. SITUATIONS. 55 
 
 2. SITUATIONS. 
 
 This leads us directly to the kind of ' Situations ' * most fitted to the 
 Style of Music-Drama. We have seen that an exalted form of expression, 
 lofty poetic diction or song, is totally unfitted to apply to commonplace situa- B 
 tions which call for no other means of expression than ordinary speech, and 
 sometimes very little of that. The kitchen or the bourse does not call for A 
 
 •'Situations' is here employed in a different sense from its ordinary acceptation. 
 Instead of signifying any of those special dramatic moments (thrilling climaxes, tableaux, 
 etc.) the word is meant to refer to any and every ' moment.' In fact, for the purposes 
 of our treatment, all the 'moments' are of equal importance in the sense that each C 2 
 one depends upon the others for its effectiveness and raison d'etre. A little con- 
 sideration on the part of the reader will make it clear that some term is needed to 
 denote those successive ' moments ' of states and circumstances which may he symbolised 
 in the succession of pictures (tableaux vivants) presented to the eye. Some of these dra- 
 matic moments may seem more crucial, more effective than others, but as regards the 
 dramatic development they are of equal importance, and none could be dispensed with 
 without injury to the dramatic effect. The status quo of the stage (particularly as revealed 
 to the' mind through the eye) at any one time, together with the circumstances of orchestral 
 accompaniment and musical dialogue, will be termed situation. It is almost the same as 
 ' scenes,' but ' scene ' has a troublesome special application to denote a part of an ' act,' 
 and, besides, suggests the scenic, or outer side, whereas we wish to understand the side of 
 the dramatic action, or inner side, as well. Probability assumes here quite a different aspect 
 from the usual one in Drama, for each and every one of the situations in the Music-Drama 
 is improbable from the naturalistic standpoint, and yet there is another sense in which 
 ' probability' is of very great importance — it is that of lyrical probability. (B, 02, C 3, 
 Cyx, D and E ; cf. Higher Eealism, p. 14.) 
 
 As regards the relation between situation and the action, the situations may be com- 
 pared to a continuous series of instantaneous photographs of the stage, giving so many 
 thousands of pictures which may be looked at separately, but which ought to give the total 
 dramatic effect only when they follow each other in the sequence designed by the dramatist. 
 Let one fancy the effect of their being displayed as " animated photographs," but reversed, 
 in order from their original order, viz. completely reversing that theoretical sequence of 
 exposition, growth, climax, fall, catastrophe. 
 
 Situation is what vanisb.es when .the action Is told in so many words without reference 
 to the detailed way in which it takes place in the representation of the drama. Thus most 
 " Guides to the Opera " display the action without reference to the particular scenes and 
 the attitudes of the various personages towards each other in the various scenes. 
 
 General situation, too, vanishes when the action, is thus narrated — abstracted from the 
 concrete presentations of the sense of the actual stage-performance. These, or a mental 
 representation of them, are necessary factors in forming a judgment about Style in the 
 sense attached to it in this work. The narrative of the action in indirect discourse with 
 use of the abstract and colourless " he," " she," " they," etc., gives us no more idea of the 
 actual appearances of the persons than a resume of the dialogue in indirect discourse 
 gives one an idea whether the orginal direct dialogue was colloquial speech, poetic diction, 
 recitative or song. To employ a simile from Decorative Art, whether a design is stylistic 
 or not, cannot be determined from a mere judgment passed upon the figures drawn on 
 paper. Until the design has been translated in terms of some concrete materials under 
 certain conditions of mode of execution and tools, it cannot accurately be pronounced 
 stylistic. 
 
56 THE STYLE OF THE MUSlC-DRAMA. 
 
 rhapsodies in the way of high-flown dialogue or for ' recitative.' The situation 
 D should be one in which there is an actual exaltation of the senses of the 
 personages — one in which energy is accumulated like electricity in a storm- 
 cloud until it breaks forth in vivid lightning. Calm domestic life does not 
 furnish materials for situations which are to be intentionally stimulating 
 to the audience. Unless the situation be one in which the actors are x 
 excited or exalted there is no reason why they should not use the language 
 of everyday life. High poetic diction and song are forms of expression 
 suited to an abnormal emotional conditions and to this condition only are 
 they proper. Situations where the intellect only is concerned— ,as in a 
 financial transaction -between two brokers — do not call for blank verse 
 D even, much less for the ' recitative ' which some Operas offer. It will be 
 noticed that these emotional situations, like the idealistic Drama in 
 general, are marked-by their • removal from our ordinary life ' — the three 
 A meals a day, business duties, and sleep. Unless this be effected, the 
 situations will unavoidably suggest contemporaneous life, and hence render 
 the unnaturalness of the presence of Music so forcible that disgust or 
 ridicule will follow. 
 
 Why such a situation as that of Indians scalping the crew of a ship to 
 the accompaniment of orchestral Music is so absurd, requires considerable 
 analysis to explain. But the falsity of such a situation upon the stage can 
 be felt immediately by a spectator. Likewise it is possible to test points 
 of natural affiliation (or harmony) by representing them vividly in one's 
 mind, and the reader is recommended to mentally represent various situa- 
 tions from daily life in connection with orchestral accompaniment and musical 
 dialogue. His feelings or his reason will often enable him to cast out some 
 as highly unlyric, and retain others as less unlyric. If the two sets of 
 situations be generalised as regards their qualities and contrasted mentally 
 it may be possible to determine why one set is inconsistent with the 
 a priori conditions of ' lyric situation ' of the Music-Drama, and the other 
 consistent. By this ' mental laboratory ' test the following situations will 
 A probably be found more or less unlyrical : — 
 
 Scene in butcher's shop. 
 „ in kitchen. 
 „ in public-house. 
 „ in House of Commons 
 „ of conversation in drawing-room. 
 „ in stables. 
 „ in police court. 
 „ scientific meeting. 
 ,, of author compiling a treatise. 
 „ of author trying to get the same published, 
 in saw-mill, etc. 
 
•ar SITUATIONS. 57 
 
 This method of mental trial and rejection is by no means limited to the 
 Music-Drama. The highly unpoetical character of much Poetry might be 
 roughly tested by singing the same, and in general the field of fittest 
 subject- matter for an Art may often be determined by a determination of 
 the most unfitted subject-matter. 
 
 Another method of approaching the subject is to inquire into operas as 
 to what situations are most palpably unlyrical. A feature of this investi- 
 gation is that where the opera contains spoken dialogue as well as recitative 
 and song, there is liable to be a gradation from the non-lyric character of 
 the spoken situations (through the semi-lyric situations of the recitative to 
 the most lyric situations associated with full musical treatment). 
 
 What is meant by a lyrical action is indicated clearly enough by Wagner's works, if 
 one will only take the trouble to discern it in the works ; the test which is suggested of 
 such an action being its unfitness for any other form of representation than that of the 
 Music-Drama. Thus the actions of Lohengrin, Tannhduser, and Parsifal have only to be 
 conceived as spoken Dramas to discern their eminent unfitness for that mode of perform- 
 ance. On the other hand, it is conceivable that Eienzi might form a tolerable drama for 
 the stage just as it had previously been employed for a novel. In the form of poetical 
 diction Tannhiiuser even would sound comparatively tame as compared with it in ' Opera ' 
 form, and the situation of Tannhauser breaking into his praise of Venus (acts i. 
 and ii.) is a lyrical one in that it fairly demands Music for its expression and would be less 
 effective in spoken dialogue. In fact, it might be difficult to prevent such a figure as 
 Lohengrin from becoming ridiculous in a spoken drama. Fancy his arrival drawn by the 
 swan in complete silence as contrasted with the effect of the exhilarating music which 
 accompanies this scene, raising our minds to the proper height and preventing it from 
 becoming an anti-climax. The loftiness of the general aesthetic character of these works 
 almost demands Music to make it seem natural. The mind of the average person is not 
 very tolerant towards an action and characters that are all pitched '' way up in the clouds." 
 The average man may very naturally feel that the figure of Lohengrin carrying on a con- 
 versation in Sfoken drama was a little too exalted, a little too fiaely drawn, too lacking in 
 those healthy money-making impulses of life ; and as for the whole situation of a heaven- 
 sent messenger coming in answer to the prayer of a beautiful maiden in distress who in her 
 turn had seen this valiant saviour in a vision, all this without that transcendental atmo- 
 sphere of instrumental Music would seem rather far-fetched. Imagine what an important 
 element Music is of the scenes of the arrival of Lohengrin, the easy victory over his opponent, 
 the revelation of his identity in his narrative, and his departure. The same holds for a 
 great deal of Parsifal, as can be discerned by inspection and applying the above test. The 
 whole of this matter is intimately associated with those qualities of Music discussed under 
 qualities A and B, for not only does Music require such highly ideal actions, but they, in 
 their turn, demand Music to prevent them from becoming vague and weak and ludicrous. 
 It has been remarked with a great deal of truth with regard to libretti and songs that what 
 was too stupid to say, one sang. Now this in a somewhat different form may serve to 
 illustrate what the Style required for the Music-Drama should be. What is unfitted to be 
 spoken, but adapted to be sung, is fitted to the Music-Drama, viz. what cannot be said 
 in language alone — that which is too vague and delicate and lofty for speech, is specially 
 fitted to enter into the Music-Drama. In Painting, even, an attempt to depict an ex- 
 ceedingly intense and transcendental expression of face is liable to impress the ordinary 
 spectator as ludicrous. (Cf. paintings by Sir Edward Burne-Jones.) 
 
 So with every part ; it should conform to this test of being indispensable to the other 
 parts of the Music-Drama, while being comparatively ineffective when taken alone. Thus 
 the ideal situation is one to which Music is indispensable, but its peculiarity is very 
 
58 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 liable to make it more or less ridiculous or.far-fotched when viewed independent of its 
 accompaniments in tbe total work. So with the relations between the vocal and instru- 
 mental parts ; they are to be so close that either one would be incomplete and vapid without 
 the other. This is true of much of Wagner's music. Taken by itself the succession of 
 vocal tones is very dissatisfying (unless we mentally and unconsciously supply the har- 
 monic colouring), viz. they do not, like many ' songs,' satisfy the mind as ' one-line ' music 
 without any accompaniment. Likewise with. the orchestral part ; if performed without the 
 viocal part it would be lacking in something, although we muht not be able to say just 
 why the hiatus existed. Compare in this regard the intimate relation between the vocal 
 part and the instrumental part in the Nornen-scene with which the Ootterdammeritng 
 opens. The musical ' intervals ' in the vocal part, taken by itself, seem outrageous, but 
 the way they accentuate and complete the harmony of the instrumental part and them- 
 selves become imbued with some musical sense is quite remarkable, especially in view of 
 the fact that this scene is perhaps otherwise unfavourable. 
 
 It is probably this quality which renders slightly offensive that procedure of taking 
 the dramatic part of one of Wagner's works by itself and discussing the character of each 
 personage ; a procedure that becomes sacrilegious in proportion as it approaches a comparison 
 of the figure with one in modern life. To discuss the character of Lohengrin, or Amfortas, 
 or Parsifal, as if they were men in modern streets and drawing-rooms, has a tendency to 
 occasion just a slight twinge of disgust in those who know these characters as musical 
 figures only, viz. as figures into which the musical situation enters as an essential element. 
 It is one thing to discuss ' the characters ' in a novel of Dickens, and quite a different thing 
 to discuss the character of Wagner's figures. It is something like the use of Mr. in connec- 
 tion with the names Lohengrin, Tannhauser, Parsifal. 
 
 (A) requires that the situations should one and all differ, as regards 
 their outer aspects, from those we are accustomed to in everyday life. Of 
 course this proscribes any modern street scenes, kitchens, etc., but this is 
 rather a part of Scenery (10). If the reader will bring vividly before his 
 mind ' in close juxtaposition ' street scenes, drawing-room scenes from the 
 stage presenting modern life, etc., in connection with orchestral accompani- 
 ment and musical dialogue, he will grasp more vividly what is meant by 
 this embargo than he would from any description. 
 
 It is not merely necessary that the situations should be unlike ' the 
 outer aspects of everyday life,' but they should further make it clear once 
 for all that they do not joropose to imitate contemporary life in its outer 
 visible aspects. 
 
 - The mode of entry of Lohengrin serves to sustain the idealistic nature 
 of the whole of the succeeding scenes, and stamps the supernatural 
 character of. Lohengrin once for all. Likewise the Venusberg scene with 
 which Tannhauser opens. Contrast these with opening of Zucile. 
 
 One of the perplexing problems of the Style of situations fitted to the 
 unnatural conditions of the Music-Drama is the situation of a crowd enter- 
 ing into a scene, and especially a singing chorus entering into the dramatic 
 action. 
 
 The sentiments of a mob of burly plebeians with regard to the Church 
 or with regard to a ' tribune ' (as in Bienzi) ; or their sentiments towards 
 the nobles ; these are ridiculous when expressed in song : everyone must 
 feel that the natural deference to realism in matters which are so palpably. 
 
2. SITUATIONS. 59 
 
 real is being ignored for the sake of introducing a little effective choral 
 singing— effective as Music perhaps, but ridiculous as a historic situation. 
 Even where there is no accompanying Music as in a play (Schiller's Tell 
 for instance), but concerted speech only, the situation is' felt to be 
 strained. 
 
 It seems too highly improbable that a real crowd should ever ex- 
 perience an emotion so uniformly (as is inevitably suggested by concerted 
 musical expression) and so highly lyric, that it would ever find its expresr 
 sion in that most artificial of activities — .concerted action to the preciseness 
 of musical rhythm. Everyone must have felt this to a greater or less 
 extent in observing such situations in ' Operas ' (cf. Boieldieu's La Dame 
 Blanche, auction scene, etc., Verdi's Traviata and Trovatore), in which the 
 suggestions of everyday life made the unfitness exasperatingly vivid. A 
 crowd is one of the most unlyrieal of situations. However, the whole 
 problem is different if the action distinctly and naturally calls for a 
 chorus-situation, and further if the action strictly avoids suggesting the 
 outer aspects of everyday life. That a crowd of workmen in active life 
 should express their feelings in chorus-form seems highly absurd, but we 
 are not prepared to assert that a group of angels might not find concerted 
 musical expression quite natural. If the situation be highly ideal ab 
 initio, it will hardly challenge criticism as so many operas do. 
 
 It is gratifying that the last Drama of Wagner, Parsifal, was of such a nature as to 
 spontaneously require choral Music — and, at that, choral Music of the most effective kind 
 — sacred chorus. However, it is probably more important for the development of the 
 Music-Drama that Wagner was able to incite himself to the composition of the Music of 
 such enthusiastic love-scenes as Tannhauser, act ii. ; Meistersinger, act iii. ; Walkilre, 
 act i. ; Siegfried, last scene ; Gotierdammerung, act i. sc. 1 ; Tristan, act ii. sc. 2. These 
 are the scenes in which Music plays the part of real emotion, and withal they represent 
 the norm. 
 
 In other words, the improbability of the chorus-situation depends upon 
 the general situation of whether the scene and action suggest our every- 
 day life. Note that the chorus of priests in Mozart's Magic Flute is not 
 half so offensive to our sense of the actual as it might be, considering the 
 number of jumps from spoken dialogue to chorus, to musical dialogue, etc. 
 It is probable that in this case, the whole scene is so far removed from 
 the aspects of everyday, life that we forget to use our critical weapons. 
 However, we usually require a faint hue of dramatic probability about 
 chorus situations. 
 
 In any case, the point in Part 7 (C 2), concerning the breaking up of 
 words and phrases in a cold-blooded professional manner holds, for the 
 most idealistic situation even. The denial of emotion thereby and of 
 sincerity, and the difficulties of understanding the words on the part of 
 the audience all relegate such musical practices to the field of indepen- 
 dent Music. All such features are related to real miracle, somewhat 
 as the representation of a scene in false perspective in Painting is related 
 
60 THE STYLE OE THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 to miracle. No one can doubt that angels might macerate their words 
 beyond recognition, for no one doubts their ability in the artificial part 23 
 of Music, but that angels would deliberately do so in connection with 
 earthly affairs and sincere emotions is quite another matter. (Cf. Scene ol 
 Bethlehem and Birth of Christ.) 
 
 As a part of this question it might be noticed that chorus parts are seldom property 
 treated on the ordinary stage. A chorus is difficult to drill, is seldom musically satis- j 
 factory, and is one of the most frequent distracting elements of the Lyric and Music- | 
 Drama. Their musical rendition and acting often forcibly suggest to the spectator the 
 hours of practice behind the scenes and the vanity thereof. 
 
 Music imposes too strict conformity in time, tempo, etc., to be wholly consistent with 
 the heterogeneous ways in which a crowd is given to express itself. A street scene or a 
 political caucus inevitably suggests speech or noise. (Note that here, again, it will not do 
 to bring forward the street scene in Meistersinger, end of act ii., as displaying the norm of 
 lyric situations for serious works dealing with the sublime.) 
 
 A crowd inevitably suggests the real world, whereas a single actor is like one's self ; 
 when alone we feel as if we were removed from the real world, and analogy suggests the 
 same thing when we see the sole actor untrammelled and unembarrassed by a crowd of 
 observers. The feeling is subtle — difficult to explain, but it can be distinctly felt. One 
 feels as if he breathed more freely when alone. In the presence of others he will not allow 
 his fancy to soar so freely, and he lays a severe embargo upon his actions. To a certain 
 extent the ideal or phantastic world is destroyed when a crowd of observing eyes are 
 directed upon one. (Of. " Three's a crowd.") 
 
 One must not outdo himself in trying to prove everything by Wagner's works, for he 
 is sure to find difficulties with the Meistersinger and its quintett (over the footlights) and 
 chorus of burghers, and ' soliloquising ' and musically artificial form in parts. We shall 
 have something more to say of the Meistersinger later. Here it will suffice to say that s 
 the Meistersinger can no more be taken as a guide in defining the Style of the serious f 
 Music-Drama than Sienzi can. If one or more angels even were presented in its situation 
 of singing to the audience over the footlights, it would involuntarily excite suggestions of 
 prima donnas, etc., who did the same, and the whole sentiment would be corrupted. 
 It should be noted, however effective the device of ' avoiding the static external appear- 
 ances of our everyday life ' may be, yet there are some situations which suggest that 
 everyday life so forcibly, or its mode of representation upon the Stage, that special pre- 
 cautions are necessary or entire avoidance expedient. Some of these situations are men- 
 tioned in the following paragraphs. 
 
 ' Side remarks ' on the stage savour in spoken Drama even of un- 
 natural revelations to the audience. In sung dialogue they savour of 
 worse. Where such side expressions are made in musical dialogue in the 
 presence of other persons on the stage, the situation of secrecy proposed is 
 simply ludicrous. It only suggests some modern stage situation without 
 offering the same excuse of subdued speech. 
 
 One of the absurdities of the ' Opera ' was a whole row of figures, each 
 one singing his own hidden thoughts to himself (and to the audience 
 over the footlights). Quite aside from the impossibility of each and all 
 making themselves heard at one time (cf. Quartett versus Naturalism and 
 Comprehensibility), this situation shows the difficulties of determining the 
 Style by casuistry. (Cf. the church scene in Gounod's Faust. Just as we 
 
2. SITUATIONS. 61 
 
 wonder that the worshippers do not see Marguerite, so we wonder they do 
 not hear her. Cf. also Fidelio.) 
 
 One must distinguish between poetic license and some practices which 
 might come under that head. Thus there is a great difference between 
 the introduction of miracle into a Music-Drama, and the practice of prima 
 donnas 'singing over the footlights.' However idealistic the dramatic 
 action may be, if it is intended to be taken seriously, it must suffer from 
 the afore-mentioned practice which has an air of being heartlessly insin- G4. 
 cere. Vocal display felt to he such is an entirely different matter from that 
 intentional disregard of the realities and probabilities of outer life dis- 
 cussed in A and B. The matter of insincerity has reference to the inner 
 side of the Drama (see p. 109). 
 
 Historical situations are seldom lyrical for the very obvious reason that 
 they deal with real life which was not accompanied by an orchestra nor 
 conducted in musical dialogue, and further because history deals with 
 ' relations ' which do not spring from the emotions, or feelings, but from 
 social relations which are obviously too complex to be lyric. (Lyric in ": 
 the sense of— fitted for expression in a musical situation, simple, beautiful, 
 emotional, and singable.) The real lyrical world is the purely emotional 
 world, and this is rarely to be found in history. 
 
 Among some of the situations which are proscribed by reason of A 
 the practical difficulties are battles. These may be well represented as an 
 Art that is not 'immediately presentative ' (ef. Scott's Marmion, and 
 Milton's Paradise Lost, and prose descriptions of battles). It is with 
 difficulty that such armies as are presented to us on the stage can be 
 tolerated (cf. economical performances of Shakespeare). A musical battle 
 can exist by the greatest license only. It is an imposition upon Music 
 and probability. Of course, anything like a modern pitched battle with 
 intricate arrangements and military manoeuvres is about as little fitted to 
 stage representation as it would be to depiction in statuary or bas-relief. 
 •It is surprising to notice how ineffective some paintings are in which there 
 is a really careful attempt to represent some extensive modern battle as a 
 whole. There is something singularly business-like and smoky, and 
 confused, unpictorial, and impersonal about modern warfare that contrasts 
 strikingly with a Homeric vignette or a description of a mediaeval 
 tournament or joust. Modern warfare, with all its ingenious devices for de- 
 stroying large numbers of men at a time, is far inferior, from an Art stand- : 
 point, to the simple arrangements of former days when a man knew who it 
 was he was trying to kill, and wasted little brain tissue in devising painless 
 and humanitarian methods. 
 
 The ' dying scene ' is not strictly lyrical for physiological reasons as 
 well as naturalistic probability. A disinterested chorus as spectators of 
 the same is not a lyric situation (cf. Gounod's Faust). The death of 
 Siegfried is very skilfully treated by Wagner, and the inspiring Music 
 
62 THE STYLE OF THE MU&IC-DRAMA. 
 
 makes criticism difficult.' However s it is probable that such situations' 
 as dying heroes engaging in lyric explanations would be better avoided if 
 possible. Cf. Verdi's Otello, last scene. 
 
 (B) requires that the Music-Drama should strive to present in its 
 
 B situations something more beautiful, more lofty, than mere genre pictures ; 
 that it should avoid the commonplace and ugly, except as the latter may 
 be employed for contrast (the dwarf Mime in Siegfried). So long as the 
 fancy of the artist can devise any situations between persons that are more 
 pleasant to contemplate than the actual situations of everyday life, there 
 is no reason why we should simply copy dull life as we see it. Certainly 
 such situations as 'the awakening of Brunhilde by Siegfried,' 'the entry 
 of the Gods into Walhall,' the ending of Gotterdammerung and of Parsifal, 
 present pictures which are more beautiful and loftier than scenes from the 
 Stock Exchange or the kitchen. If there is anything we can be thankful 
 to Wagner for, it is that he has pointed the way to scenes of ideal beauty 
 on the stage. 
 
 C i (Ci) proscribes situations which are involved, which puzzle the mind 
 
 to comprehend what the relations are between the characters. ' Modern ' 
 plays and ' historical ' plays present situations in which the relations 
 between the characters are so involved that an effort of the mind is required 
 to follow (understandingly) the play of sentiments, and such an effort 
 would be fatal to the appreciation of Music, which solicits our attention 
 every moment. This is one reason for limiting the number of characters, 
 for each one added increases the difficulty of distinguishing and 'placing' 
 each character in whatever situation he may appear. We shall see later 
 how the Music-Drama can. somewhat lessen the perplexity by distinctive 
 and symbolical costumes and ' attributes,' but the chief solution is in 
 reducing the characters to the lowest possible number. Anyone who 
 has remarked how studiously the long list of ' personse ' in some ' historical ' 
 play is perused by the spectator anxious to know who's who, will appreciate 
 the advantage of few characters in the Music-Drama. Just as the sculptor 
 avoids the representation of multitudes in his groups or bas-reliefs, so the 
 Music-Drama should present a ' plastic simplicity ' in its characters and 
 situations. The ideal would be a play displaying such situations through- 
 out that each would explain itself, like paintings that do not require an 
 explanatory text. 
 
 G2 That each situation should spring clearly and naturally from the 
 
 one preceding it, is evidently necessary to the easy understanding of the 
 situations. 
 
 B The ' terrible ' situation which is so much in demand by the blase 
 
 audiences of modern theatres is highly unfit for the Music-Drama. 
 
 In the first place, the Style of Music which we have proposed as most 
 fitting to the noble character of the Music-Drama excludes any Music 
 
 B which is absolutely ' terrible.' No doubt, a pitiless master of cacophonic 
 
2. SITUATIONS.- 63 
 
 effects might work upon an audience in a most startling manner, for he has 
 them in his power ; the ears are not provided with lids. No speech is 
 capable of grating upon the nerves with the refined keenness of unmusical 
 combinations. But notwithstanding the opportunities offered, the thrill- B 
 ingly terrible situation is better left to the modern sensational play, where 
 death by fire or water can be managed without a ' trace of idealism.' The 
 Style of the Music-Drama does not call upon the spectator to participate in 
 its situations but to contemplate them. It purports to be an art-work 
 which we can look upon without feeling ourselves greatly inconvenienced. 
 The thirst for excruciating situations can be stilled by the products of 
 other 'Arts.' The skull and cross-bones may be a good motive for tomb- 
 stones, but Music is able to present Death in a less material aspect in its 
 impressive funeral marches. In high Art it is rather the poetic reflection 
 of the 'terrible' that is fitting than dramatic excruciation or physical 
 "repulsiveness. Contrast the treatment of death in a medieval monument 
 and a wax-works show respectively. 
 
 If the Music of the Music-Drama be really worthy of our attention, 
 then that calm mood which is necessary to its appreciation should not be 
 troubled by the absorbing sympathy a sensational play strives to excite. 
 That sesthetical mood is more in place, in which we approach a statue or a 
 work of Architecture, and this is very different from a highly excited 
 mood. 
 
 We must feel that we are looking at a work of orb framed within the 
 oblong outlines of the stage, just as a painting is shown to be a painting by 
 its frame. Here we touch one of the most difficult points in the Music- 
 Drama where considerable casuistry is required to reconcile the emotional 
 side and the repose side. This will be discussed in Part 8. 
 
 How necessary an understanding of the 'measured' Style of the Music-Drama is may 
 be seen from the conditions which obtain in the case of Wagner's works on the average 
 stage. They are often ruined because some singer wishes to gain applause by his or her 
 "wonderful dramatic rendering.'' 
 
 Too much rushing about the stage is sure to distract" from the Music. The stage should 
 present a 'settled ' appearance — if the hearers' attention is not to be called away from the 
 Music. The least bit of overplaying may ruin many bars of Music. 
 
 The situation of explaining in musical dialogue or soliloquy the events G I 
 preceding the opening of the action is unfitted for musical presentation, 
 and is even unfitted for the spoken Drama when very long and complicated. 
 
 Its propriety in the novel is indisputable, for here the text may be 
 carefully read and re-read. To follow a long narrative of complicated 
 events requires an effort, even if the dialogue be spoken, but when we 
 renounce the instrument of complicated and distinct speech, and employ 
 musical discourse instead, the situation is proscribed for three reasons. 
 
 First, because it requires an intellectual effort in grasping and retaining @ f 
 the facts narrated, which is subversive of the sensuous effect of the Music ; / „ 
 
64 THE STYLE; OP THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 D secondly, it is not immediately presentative and is very liable to be unemo- 
 tional as well ; and thirdly, because the situation infallibly suggests a real 
 A situation in which speech is the proper medium of conveying the ideas of 
 the narrative. 
 
 (0 2, see next part, Action.) 
 C j The firing of rifles or pistols is opposed to Music, as are shrieks. The 
 sword and spear are more musical weapons, in that they do not interrupt 
 the Music by their use, or spoil its effect by a shock (p. 108). 
 Cj A Lyrical Art requires its love-scene and love-element; a spoken 
 
 & Drama, like Ibsen's Volksfeind, can exclude this and deal with the more 
 -^ complex relations of individuals, society, money, etc. Likewise the Novel, 
 from its descriptive scope and its length and definite means of expression, 
 can deal with political complexities even. (Cf. Scott's novels.) 
 D That a situation should be ' emotional ' requires that the relations 
 
 & amongst the participating characters should be such as to excite emo- 
 ■" tions in each other ' on the spot.' The present emotion is important 
 here, and one feature of this is that each particular situation should 
 be emotional in itself; that it should not require too much deduction on 
 the part of the spectator in order to render it tragical. The relations 
 between the characters in each situation should be personal — should not 
 depend on absent persons and distant occurrences. The relations should 
 be that of " I " and " you " ; the characters should have emotions excited 
 in them by that very situation of affairs present, and not be absorbed in a 
 discussion of some other person or persons, or some other events. The 
 essential fitness of musical discourse is that it should be the irrepressible 
 expression of some present emotion. The ideal ' lyrical ' situation is one in 
 which two persons are intensely moved by the very fact of their presence 
 together, without any reference to absent persons or past events. Only 
 under those circumstances is the exalted mode of expression, song, com- 
 pletely natural, whereas a calm discussion of absent things (" him," " they," 
 or " it ") suggests conversation — viz. speech — as the best means of ' telling 
 it,' and renders song and recitative a little ridiculous. This is one reason 
 why the ' love-scene ' is so singularly lyrical. The lyrical situation par 
 excellence is that in which the present situation calls for those emotions 
 which compel to an exalted mode of expression (Music). That the per- 
 sonal pronouns ' I ' and ' you ' should predominate over the colder and 
 impersonal pronoun ' it,' is evident. The person should be addressing the 
 object which excites his emotion, not telling something about somebody 
 else as disinterested 'relations.' The one expressing the emotions should 
 be the one who is stimulated by the very emotions which he expresses. 
 Of course, this ' duett' situation is not always attainable in a Drama, but its 
 fitness to Music is shown by the way in which Music is often able to 
 assert its mastery (by assuming the ' song ' form) in such situations, where 
 in others it is obliged to renounce its ' song ' form for ' recitative.' 
 
2. SITUATIONS. 65 
 
 The presence of a ' means of expression ' calls for something impelling 
 to expression — that is, an emotional spring. ■" 
 
 To be emotional the situation should be highly personals-it should lie 
 between the ' I ' and * you ' of the persons concerned. 
 
 Hence the undramatic character of the singing chorus, which, however, 
 is permissible if the action be highly ideal, and' such a situation be called 
 for by the action. Of. Parsifal. 
 
 The situations should be as far as possible ' immediately presentative,' G i 
 viz. they should have reference to the status quo. oi affairs, and contain as 
 far as possible the germs of their own explanation witkm themselves. To 
 revert to the analogy of instantaneous photographs . (p. 28), each picture 
 ought to suggest as far as possible the explanation of such a situation as 
 it displays. We can all recall cases of paintings, seen for the first time at 
 exhibitions, which baffled the ordinary ingenuity, as to what they repre- 
 sented, and some of which depended very much upon, the descriptive 
 letterpress of the catalogue for their comprehension and effect. So it is 
 with the situations in a drama. They should, be a drama, not a conversa- 
 tion about one. They should necessitate : as Kttle activity as possible of 
 those mental faculties depending upon a representation of things not 
 directly present to the eye and ear. This is rather a difficult point because- 
 it does not severely hold for paintings or ; spoken Drama. We have time 
 to ponder over the first and can read an explanation, and the great instru- 
 ment — speech — of the second insures comprehension, but would not do so 
 if the mind were engaged in listening to and enjoying a. symphony at the 
 same time. A very good way to get a clear idea of what, is meant by a 
 strictly presentative situation is to imagine a moving panorama of paintings 
 displayed to a spectator, and to fancy the rate at. which the pictures were 
 presented to his eye to be gradually increased. W e can easily see that 
 those pictures which required a summoning of complicated historical 
 facts, etc., would be likely to suffer more and more, with the increasing 
 frequency of replacement of one picture by the next! The rate would 
 finally compel the eye to reap the purely sensuous gratification of the' 
 pictures, as if each were a pure decorative juxtaposition of colours and 
 figures, on pain of losing everything. Now the situations offered by the 
 Music-Drama should approximate to the, latter condition of simplicity. 
 Their sequence should be a dramatic one. Each should naturally proceed - 
 from the preceding one, but should not compel the mind of the, spectator c 2 
 to summon the former one from its grave of the, past. For all this time 
 the Music is moving irretrievably, onward. Not only should each situation 
 be self-explaining as an entity, but the order or succession of the situa- 
 tions, or the actual dramatic action, should be self-explaining also. Just 
 as each chord in a musical phrase may be pleasing by the (vertical) 
 relations of its notes, while, at the same time, the order of succession 
 of the chords may be pleasing. 
 
$6 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 3. ACTION (DEAMATIC DEVELOPMENT). 
 
 (A) demands that the plot shall differ from those displayed by novels, 
 and dramas which propose to imitate contemporary life. The various 
 ways in which it should differ are displayed under the heads B, G, B, below. 
 B The subject-matter of the plot should be beautiful in the sense of 
 
 displaying nobler, loftier, and grander conflicts, rather than those 
 which are repulsive or frivolous. Just as Architecture makes its loftier 
 flights in grand temples and impressive cathedrals, and as Sculpture as 
 a high art avoids mere genre subjects, so the Music-Drama should en- 
 thusiastically strive to realise the ideal of a ' high ' Art, especially as it 
 has the lofty element, Music, to guide it. (Lofty does not necessarily 
 mean subtly -complicated.) It does not need to be harrowing: it aims, 
 at quite a different aesthetic effect. 
 Ci The plot should not be complicated, for the mind must not be unduly 
 
 distracted from its occupation of listening to and enjoying the music. 
 The plot should not be such a one, for instance, as that displayed in a 
 modern ' novel,' in which the absence of Music and the length of the 
 work allow a complete exposition of the plot in all its intricate detail. 
 C I The Music-Drama, unlike the 'novel' and spoken Drama, is unfitted 
 
 for the presentation of a plot founded on confusion, intrigue, misunder- 
 standings, etc. This Style of entangled plot is out of place in the Music-' 
 Drama, because it is too complicated to explain itself easily and because 
 it appeals to the intellect and not directly to the emotions. Like plots, 
 founded on abstruse, moral and religious ideas, it calls for too much 
 mental exercise on the part of the hearer. They compel too much weigh- 
 ing of facts — too many acts of judgment of past occurrences to compare 
 with present scenes. Such a plot as that of Othello requires a power 
 of definite expression, like speech, to unfold the subtle workings of an 
 ' Iago.' The intricacies of court intrigue are totally outside the field of 
 musical presentation. Any plot founded on subtle political affairs is 
 wholly unfitted to musical presentation (cf. p. 61). 
 
 As a rule, modern Melodramas directly cultivate subtlety of develop- 
 ment, and newspapers sometimes offer prizes for a solution of the dramatic 
 plexus of a serial story, of which the author's last chapter is withheld, 
 thereby intensifying the enigmatic and brain-racking entanglement of fate. 
 This is related to Literature about as a puzzle-column is, and, as an art- ', 
 expedient, deserves to rank about as high as the financial expedient of 
 devising sensational titles for novels — ' Her Fatal Failing ' by the author 
 of ' His Hypnotic Homage,' etc. Such harrowing up of the soul is pro- 
 scribed by B. 
 C i As for the Music-Drama, it should be as simple in its action as 
 
3. -ACTION" (DEAMATIC DEVELOPMENT). 67 
 
 possible, consistent with, dramatic interest, in order that it may explain 
 itself through the eye without taxing the intellect and thereby distracting 
 the attention of the listener from the Music, which must be enjoyed as it 
 is being played. 
 
 For a like reason, the action should present a severe dramatic G2 
 unity. This is especially necessary, for the function of the action is to 
 render the phases of pathos presented by the Music clear (recognisable) 
 (p. 4) ; hence the exclusion of extraneous moments and irrelevant ' epi- 
 sode '' is most necessary. The mind must not be confronted by puzzling 
 features, having no relation to the progressive course of the action and 
 distracting attention from the Music. 
 
 As dramatic unity is very often associated with subtlety and com- 
 plexity of development (proscribed by 1), it may be advisable to discuss 
 it somewhat. 
 
 Severity of dramatic development is not identical with depth or com- C2 
 plication of development. The dramatic threads may be few. and simple, 
 and the Drama still display unity. Unity is a means of making the 
 Drama susceptible of easy comprehension by the spectator, thereby aiding 
 the dramatic effect. If severity of dramatic development necessarily 
 meant extension and complication, ' unity ' would have no place among 
 the canons of the Music-Drama (cf. p. 42). 
 
 Nor is extreme fulness of development identical with severity of dra- 
 matic development. On page 42 it was hinted that, perhaps one of the 
 ways in which the Music-Drama text will — and ought to — distinguish 
 itself from the spoken Drama, is in length of the development. 
 
 In tracing the way in which the Ring arose (developed from an original plan for a 
 single part) and remembering that the patriotic idea probably influenced the treatment 
 of the mythic Materials (the performance of 1876 was spoken of by some as a display of 
 national Art) we might be prepared to admit that the Sing is not to be considered in 
 respect to its length as the norm of the Music-Drama in general. Just how such a fulness 
 of development as that displayed by the Meistersinger text is to be avoided without 
 sacrificing the dramatic effect or seeking recourse in a literary prologue or programme is a 
 serious question. Any one who has grasped the enormous technical difficulties of a high- 
 class performance of one of Wagner's later works with special reference to the difficulties of 
 singing and acting (including memorising of the parts) will be inclined to inquire whether 
 this extreme length is necessary, whether it is expedient, and whether it is peculiar to the 
 Music-Drama Style as distinguished from the legitimately complicated and lengthy dramatic 
 actions of Drama as an independent Art (spoken Drama). 
 
 Fancy Wagner's Trilogy, The Sing, without its introduction, Rhinegold, viz. compelled 
 to reveal the, contents of Rhinegold in narratives introduced into the other parts, and you 
 have an exaggerated example of what occurs in some of the works.. Undoubtedly Wagner 
 was a master at this concentration of explanations in narrative form. (Cf. Tristan, opening 
 scene.) But would it have been needed had his Dramas been less extensive and com- 
 plicated? Would it not often be better in acted form, or entirely relegated to a sort of n * 
 compulsory * prologue,' either: spoken or printed, whereby the spectator could be definitely . » 
 informed of preceding events without recourse to the narrative which interrupts the action ™ 
 and is so opposed- to the presentative character of Music? 
 
 The Ring, for instance, in spite of the extensiveness of the part actually acted, includes 
 
 F 2 
 
68 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIG-DKAMA. 
 
 materials in 'narrative form' which would serve for several ' interlegomena,' notably 
 between Rhinegold, Walk&re, and Siegfried. This point is not a mere discussion of the- 
 unities of ' time ' and ' place ' and ' action,' although these probably apply far more to the 
 Music-Drama than to independent Drama. It is a very important matter in reference to the 
 future of the Style of the Music-Drama. It is conceivable that there might be less of the 
 prospective and retrospective element about it than is displayed by the Ring. This feature 
 centres particularly around Wotan, whose " plans " the average auditor would do well to 
 make himself acquainted with before seeing the work — especially for the part Siegfried. 
 
 It is often very difficult to criticise Wagner's works, on account of their musical power 
 and beauty, which redeem certain parts not absolutely conformable to the theoretical Style. 
 Thus, the scene in Siegfried, in which Mime puts the three questions to Wotan, is perhaps 
 not entirely indispensable to the dramatic action (was Wagner influenced by the myth 
 here ?), which should be presentative, not retrospective. But the beauty of the music in 
 parts of this scene of great contrasts very greatly prejudices us in its favour. We should 
 not forget that Wagner might have written just as beautiful music to a scene less episodical 
 and ' un-presentative.' So also the scene of the ■ Nornen ' in Gdtterdammerung^ of which 
 the vocal part is quite remarkable. Planning and plotting situations (cf. Ootterdammenmg,, 
 i. 1, and character of Hagen in general) ought to be reduced to a minimum. All such 
 features may be necessary to the complete dramatic action ; the point is — are they not incon- 
 sistent with the Style of the Music-Drama, which must differ from that of the spoken Drama. 
 
 C 2 The dramatic development in Wagner's later works is remarkably close-knit, and may be 
 
 supposed for that reason to be wonderfully clear. But perhaps this very perspicuity is 
 
 2J sometimes dearly paid for in narrative detail that is liable to be unlyrical. A point 
 might be raised just here — that since the outer aspects were to be unlike those of every- 
 day life, that the dramatic development also might be unlike that of the independent 
 
 C 2 Drama in being less detailed in its severity., But it is Canons OS and D that prescribe a 
 dramatic development and the exclusion of episode. Wagner's tendencies were towards severe 
 dramatic development, and it is conceivable that the prevalence of ' narrative ' in the Tri- 
 logy may be attributable to this in that it was hardly possible to directly present the whole 
 action. On the other side, however, it may be said that some things are better narrated 
 than performed. But should such features enter into the Music-Drama ? Moreover, the 
 narrative is troublesome for Music-Drama, because it proposes a situation that is not par- 
 ticularly lyrical. ' Narrative,' both as an idea and as a reality, suggests speech and not 
 Cja musical dialogue such as the Music-Drama necessitates. Further, Music is venturing 
 slightly out of its field in attempting to exercise subtle descriptive powers. Those relations 
 which are simplest to comprehend at a glance and are most lyrical in the sense of impelling 
 
 j, to musical expression, are those of direct discourse and feeling — the /addressing the vow 
 under stress of emotion. 
 
 When we are relating outside occurrences, we are no longer active factors spontaneously 
 expressing what our emotions toward the other person present impel us to express. It is 
 conceivable that since so much in the Music-Drama depends upon perspicuity, that there- 
 fore as much as possible should be clearly enacted before our eyes, instead of being con- 
 signed to the less vigorous and more intellectual means of the ' narrative.' It might be 
 asserted that a vivid epical treatment would do just as well. However beautiful and 
 simple a calm and simple fluent succession of events might be, it would probably lack that 
 emotional element which music calls for (Z)) and might tend to mislead i.e. distract «J). 
 But there may also be severity of dramatic development without narrative. It seems 
 probable that the epic fairy tale is not quite so well fitted to the Style as the more severe 
 Drama. 
 
 B The Style which is wanted is not the exciting melodramatic Style 
 
 but a Style which will impress us as beautiful. Hence the Drama must 
 sacrifice itself to the musical and pictorial element, in so far as this 
 does not lead to inconsistencies and incongruities. 
 
3. ACTION (DEAMATIC DEVELOPMENT). 69 
 
 A highly idealistic Style of Drama does not affect us as strongly as Gj 
 naturalistic Drama. Its justification is, that it is more beautiful— it dis- 
 plays a conscious predilection for beautiful and lofty ideas. Where Music B 
 can assist Drama, is where it accompanies a poetic diction which is too 
 exalted to appear natural by itself, the Music renders it still more un- 
 natural — renders it purely ideal— and thus effectively removes the diction 
 from the adverse judgment that it "sounds overstrained," and so ends in 
 making it ' natural.' 
 
 Thus Music can make an unnatural diction natural (viz. vivid), by 
 elevating it into a sphere in which it is natural, by saving it from the 
 injurious criticism which comes from its not being sufficiently removed 
 from comparison wjlth the aspects of real life. 
 
 Wagner was first dramatist, and then became musician. It was almost necessary for 
 the severity of his reforms, that his dramatic spirit preceded his musical accomplishment, '2 
 otherwise he might only have carried out his reforms in a half-way fashion. But it is not 
 necessary that those who now take advantage of his admirable reforms should bind them- 
 selves to a part which, while it was necessary to reform, may not be necessary to the art t 
 per se. Wagner not only attempted a Music-Drama, but also a deep Drama in addition. 
 His dramatic plots would not be lacking in depth and completeness and severity if trans- 
 posed as absolute Dramas. We may be thankful that Wagner gave us Dramas so deep as 
 Pcwrsifal, and that he gave a myth as grand a development as that of the Biny of the 
 Nibelimgen. But that the Music -Drama Style absolutely requires such a dramatic 
 depth and fulness of treatment is not proved thereby. Some- real artist in the future may 
 find that he can dispense with such depth and fulness of the dramatic element, and yet 
 produce works which will not be wanting in highest Beauty. It must be remembered 
 that Wagner's works have an sesthetical ' face-value ' which makes them art-works whether 
 the audience grasp any of the deep symbolism of commentators or not. 
 
 This requires that Music and action should agree, and will be dealt Gj 
 with under the head of Music. 
 
 The action should be emotional in the sense of portraying acts D 
 committed under the impulse of emotions, and not at the instigation of 
 reason. The 'motives' which impel the characters to their fatal acts, 
 should be those arising from ' feeling ' and not from ' reason.' 
 
 The conclusion then is that the action should be dramatic and not 
 epical, but that it should necessitate a minimum of narrative (Z>), and 
 should not be so deep and subtle in its nature or development as to 
 monopolise the attention of the hearer (G 1, G 2). Moreover, it can be 
 dramatic without being sensationally so. It may be thoroughly and 
 severely emotional without necessarily arousing the emotions of the 
 audience. 
 
 Here again we recognise the principle of the conservation of mental 
 energies. A real emotion such as anger experienced by the audience 
 would draught away mental energy from the enjoyment of the Music- 
 Drama itself (Cj).. 
 
 This is an odd point about the Music-Drama — that it demands at one $ j) 
 and the same time an inner Drama and an outer Drama, and the two seem & 
 inconsistent. Not necessarily so, however. %> 
 
VO THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. ' 
 
 We probably get the idea from the distinct separation which is marked 
 on the modern stage by the two species of Drama— the sensational melo- 
 drama depending purely upon objective incidents, and wallowing in sought- 
 for and far-fetched scenic effects : the other the ' conversation play/ during 
 the course of which nothing takes place, except the lingual expression of 
 inner emotions and their development. A little thought will show that 
 the two can go along together, viz. that the inner Drama may be such a 
 one as requires, demands, an outer Drama. This is the desideratum of the 
 Music-Drama. It must be severely 'mbtivirt,' 'motivated,' and yet it 
 should not degenerate into an unpictorial conversation piece or a psy- 
 chological study. (Cf. modem novels.) This is part and parcel of the 
 difficulty of finding a mean between a purely pictorial conception (Z?), 
 and a purely dramatic action (2>). 
 
 Subjectivism. Subjective has three or four meanings — it is con- 
 trasted with ' outer/ when it means psychic or inner ; with common or 
 unhuman, or inorganic, or material, when it means personal ; with rational 
 or intellectual, and perceptual, when it means strongly emotional ; with 
 melodramatic or ' sensational/ when it means emotional in an inner web 
 of emotions, displaying dramatic unity, viz. not capricious or requiring 
 deus ex machina; and with distinctively modern sentiments, when it 
 means 'pure human/ Or primitive, or not local in space or time, but 
 belonging broadly to all human beings alike. 
 
 "Wagner's " Subjectivity." — Wagner's Dramas are principally concerned with the rela- 
 tions of man to man, the simpler relations, not those born of the complex arrangements of 
 modern or of ' court ' society. The scenic changes are few, the dramatic action is confined to 
 the heart, and does not display any great outward occurrences. The melodramatic occur- 
 rences are rare in Wagner; they are replaced by 'inner ' or emotional occurrences. The 
 subjective character is the more marked in Wagner's poems by reason of their dramatic 
 form in which man deals in direct discourse with man, not descriptive as in Walter Scott's 
 Marmion, The gods of Wagner's Dramas regarded as 'personifications' of ideas, are 
 adapted for fulfilling dramatic purposes. Prieka as the embodiment of a sentiment of 
 morality is a dramatic figure which can appeal to a mind where the idea of " morality " 
 might be incomprehensible. The artist renders ideas dramatically effective by making them 
 concrete in the person of some god. 
 
 . So the ' Sword ' and ' Spear ' and ' Ring ' in Wagner are concrete representatives of ideas 
 or qualities. The figures of speech of Wagner are subjective as contrasted with the objective 
 comparisons of the (pseudo) ' classical ' poets, Pope, Dryden. Virgil employs the simile, 
 Wagner personifies. 
 
 Even a descriptive piece like the ' narrative ' of Tannhauser reflects feeling in the midst 
 of the (narrative) spectacular features. 
 
 The " subjectivity " of Wagner's Dramas (most of the text is expressive of psychical 
 stat s) is a part of the dramatic " Style" which is necessitated by the Music element. The 
 Unity which gives the " Style " to the representations requires that the words should 
 relate to the emotions which the Music represents. The text is " psychical " in order to 
 agree with the Music which is representative of the psychical side of Drama. 
 
 The love scene of Tristan and Isolde gives a good idea of what is meant by the 
 expression " Reiu-menschliche," for it represents as far as is possible to the eye and ear 
 tht> region of the mind — experiences which monopolise consciousness in the two lovers. 
 They feel an emotion so intense that it occupies all their attention and hence excludes 
 
3. ' ACTION (DEAMATIC DEVELOPMENT). 71 
 
 the sensaliona and thoughts of the world about them. In the sense that the world of the 
 ' Seen ' vanishes when the eyes are closed, so when the mind's eye (attention or conscious- 
 ness to external stimuli) is closed to all impressions except that of human sensations, and 
 occupied solely by its own peculiar emotions, it may be said that the ' world ' has vanished 
 (or that the lovers have been ' freed ' from the world). The psychological consideration of 
 this wonderful scene might lead to the conclusion that the ecstatic expressions of the two 
 lovers were expressive of more 'truth' than was credited to emotional interjections. 
 They really live in another world. The darkness of the night has made the ' seen ' world 
 vanish, one might say that ' half ' the world had already perished when no more sensations 
 from the eye were received, for when we fancy the " world " we represent our sight impres- 
 sions of it, so important is the eye in our intercom se with the objective world. We think 
 of the world in terms of its appearance, i.e. eye-impressious. Blot out the world of ' appear- 
 ances ' and people are very much alike as regards what remains. 
 
 In sound sleep we are rid of the whole world, but in the scene above, the minds are not 
 in a negative condition, it is a positive condition, but a world which is purely human in the 
 sense that it is confined to human beings, is personal, is ' inner,' has no adequate outward 
 cause, and unlike ' outer ' phenomena, emotional. 
 
 The " rein-menschliche " is that part of the psychical ' life ' or ' world '..which is purely 
 subjective, which is not wholly ' caused ' by some exterior object. The contrast between 
 this world of human emotion and the cold objective world is made more striking in 
 Tristan and Isolde, by connecting their happiness with the first, and their pain with the 
 second world; as loDg as they are lost in each other they are happy, but as the day dawns, 
 their minds being no longer absorbed by sensation, emotion, and feeling only, the light 
 thrusts sensations of the outside world upon their consciousness ; this is sufficient in itself to . 
 disturb their emotional delight, but the light is the harbinger of another ' world ' which is 
 far more noisome than that of sight alone ; this is the world of remembered ideas — the 
 memories of "relations," — of human conditions — of laws which interfere with their 
 individual freedom — visions of suffering. This world of human pain and suffering all rises 
 in their minds with the rising of the sun, and their purely emotional world is at an end. 
 The unfeeling or thinking world now thrusts itself before their eyes and rudely dethrones 
 ' the soft and lovely states of consciousness of " their" world. With the compulsory con- 
 sciousness of the outside world and its relations comes the sense of the inconsistency 
 between the two, the freedom in which they bathed, forgetful of the world, and the 
 bondage which the world brings with force. There is a painful sense that the one world is 
 not true to the other, that there is a deep discrepancy between the two, and that this will 
 meet with its punishment. The world of personal conscience is now absorbing their minds 
 — and the sun has truly risen on the real world, the world of heaven and hell, both 
 inhabited in one day. 
 
 Considering the foregoing from an objective standpoint, the ' world ' of an individual's 
 mind is seen to be the sum of the states of consciousness at any one time, whatever may be 
 the possible states of consciousness under other conditions, such as those of illumination. 
 
 We may feel that if a scene were illuminated we should be conscious of such and such 
 sensations ; but our world is that which we are conscious of, not that which we might be 
 conscious of under other circumstances. Of course the objective world does not cease to be 
 capable of exciting sensations in our minds, when it ceases to excite any sensations, but our 
 • world ' at any one moment is largely a matter of direction of attention, just as the actual 
 world is largely coloured by our ideas and conscience, moral and religious sentiments. 
 
 A strong emotion compels attention, it monopolises consciousness and we are usually 
 more or less conscious of the existence of the exterior world at all times of the day, but 
 there are certain sensations and emotions which are so intense that they completely mono- 
 polise the consciousness, and hence the world does actually cease to exist for us. In other 
 words, ' the world' regarded as the flowing stream of consciousness is continually varying 
 in width, and sometimes is narrowed down to a single intense strand of monopolising 
 emotion. This is something very different from the ever-changing and highly hetero- 
 geneous stream of sensations, images, ideas, etc., that mercilessly pelt the sensorium in the 
 
72 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 wide-awake battle of modern life. Moreover, it is conceivable that, taking the whole world 
 of human beings, it is the day impressions that differ most largely ; it is as if the rising 
 sun illumined all those outer surroundings which differ so throughout the world, climatic 
 and social. It is by the light of the sun that the hovel differs from the palace. 
 
 D It should be marked by its removal from the ratiocinating nature 
 
 of our everyday life, viz. it should be unlike the progress of dramas which 
 arise, not from impulses of the emotions of the characters, but as the 
 .result of cold reasoning on their part. Many occurrences in modern life 
 are highly dramatic — such as the ruin of a speculator on the stock 
 market — and such occurrences are often taken as the basis of modern 
 'naturalistic' plays, but they are unfitted to the nature of Music, for 
 reasoning, rather than emotions, forms the basis of their development,, 
 
 The Novel is specially fitted to portray such dramas, since the 
 whole mind of each character is laid bare to the reader, and the magnitude 
 of the work allows a subtle display of the acts of volition as influenced by 
 the reasoning powers. The emotional nature of Music prescribes an action 
 woven with a web of emotions. The subtle, thoughtful, and self-controlled 
 character of an Iago is far better fitted to the Literary Drama, where 
 speech is untrammelled by simple, sensuous Music. The plot of the 
 • Music-Drama, then, should be founded upon individuals impelled by emo- 
 tions at every step of the development, rather than by logic. 
 C i Moreover, the emotions at stake should not be of a subtle nature de- 
 
 pending upon intellect. 
 E The emotions should be such as call for (impel to) expression. The 
 
 .action should be one in. which there is scope for acting — it should be 
 eventful, and not quiet and lacking in adventure ; it should call for action, 
 and thus give opportunity for that expression of the emotions which is the 
 n raison d'etre of the Stage in the Music-Drama. (Note that, by B, these 
 Qj actions need not be always bloodthirsty, or strained. Repose is also a 
 feature to be considered. Cf. 8, Acting. 
 
 If the pathos of the Music is to be recognisably indicated by the Stage, 
 then the action must not be devoid of acts — of gestures, etc. The action 
 should call for gestures, and for those larger gestures, acts expressing 
 some more or less uncontrollable emotion in the personages. 
 
 The style of action should be such that the reminiscent element is 
 replaced by present feeling and action, viz. the dialogue should relate to the 
 present feelings of the characters. 
 
 It is a great disadvantage for a Music-Drama to be compelled to 
 ' relate ' a part of itself, instead of being ' acted ' out as a whole. Vocal 
 dialogue cuts such an unnatural figure when it proposes to enlighten^the 
 audience about past events, and to summarise the status quo of the 
 dramatic action. 
 
 Of course, it is very difficult to begin, develope, and end an action 
 which shall be really of 'absorbing' interest in the four hours or so 
 
a. ACTION (DBAMATIC DEVELOPMENT), 73 
 
 allowed for a perfo'rmailce. Moreover, the clever expedient of ' introduc- E 
 tory domestics ' whose duty it is to disclose td the audience the present state 
 of affairs, is hardly applicable to the Music-Drama. The clearest and most 
 sensuous kind of action is one which is complete in itself — which allows itself 
 to be entirely ' acted ' in the time allowed. Vocal dialogue becomes more or 
 less unnatural when not the excited expression of present emotions. The 
 sensuous nature of Musicnecessitates immediate enjoyment on the part of 
 the hearer — it allows no postponement; hence, it condemns all distract- 
 ing mental activity, and hence condemns remarks" about absent affairs 
 which require mental activity for their understanding. Each situation 
 should be complete in itself, UotT requiring particular explanations from the 
 participants. We have marked the whole apparatus of the Stage as a 
 determinant of the emotion Which the singer expresses ; hence Stage and 
 emotion should agree at every moment. This they do not perfectly do, if 
 the present emotions require a pcUt situation for their explanation. The 
 ideal arrangement is where What we see' is a part of the expression of those 
 emotions which' the actors are inwardly feeling and vocally expressing. 
 Here only does the Stage do for the Music what' it should — that is, act as 
 the determinant of the phase of pathos expressed by the vocal Music. We 
 have called in the Stage as a picture to make the recognition of the pathos 
 of the Music unmistakably clear. If the Stage does not do that, it does 
 not do what it has been called to do, and the Music could as Well explain 
 itself without the Stage. The ' situation ' which we see before us on the 
 Stage should set the key-note of the pathos which the singer is expressing 
 in Music. This is the ideal, and the actual action should approach it as 
 nearly as possible. 
 
 There is great opportunity here for the dramatist to display his fancy C I 
 in weaving the threads of his action so that no part need be reminiscent — 
 so that no character may be compelled to lay aside his part of participant 
 in the Drama, and turn narrator in order to inform the audience how 
 things stand. 
 
 It should be a dramatic action rather than idyllic, for it must call for, 
 must demand that vocal expression which is to form a part of the Art — 
 the link See list of plus (+) Emotions, part 5, E. 
 
 It is very difficult to speak dogmatically on the subject of 'action,' 
 inner and outer. For instance, the norm is where there is a severe inner 
 action and a very complete outer action corresponding to it. But notice 
 thattwo further degrees in the admixture of the ingredients outer action 
 and inner feeling are possible — in one the outer action might preponderate, 
 in which case the eye would be more interested, and the action thereby 
 clearer to the mind through the eye ; in the other case the inner Drama is 
 given freer play, and the musical" expression thereof, as in Tristan and Isolde. 
 
 Now it is just conceivable that two subjects might spontaneously give 
 rise to these two different blends, and both might be pleasing, each in its 
 
T4 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. ' 
 
 own way — one pleasing the dramatic feelings better, the other the musical 
 ear, and minds inclined to the inner feelings and the musical expression. 
 Both would display a Style as well as the ' normal ' blend, and it is possible 
 that this will long lend a variety to the various Music-Dramas which may 
 subsequently be composed. This may serve to explain a little fact regard- 
 ing "Wagner's works. 
 
 An admirer of Wagner's works often likes all of them, and when asked 
 •which he" likes best will evade the question by answering that he likes 
 different works for different reasons, perhaps adding that he likes Parsifal 
 for its loftiness and moral depth and its choral music ; Tristan for the 
 intensity of the dramatic expression and the corresponding intensity of 
 musical expression, and the lyrical character of some of the situations; 
 Bhinegold for its splendid scenic effects, and for the removal of the scenes 
 from suggestions of everyday life ; Tannhauser for its grand dramatic theme 
 or underlying idea, and the number of situations that spontaneously call 
 for Music ; Lohengrin for its simple musical beauty, etc., etc. 
 
 A person who has a keen desire to see action, and has hardly the 
 musical liking sufficiently to make him enjoy such * lengths ' as the love 
 scene in the second act of Tristan, will be unable to find a recompense in 
 the intensity of emotional expression of the mixing nor its spontaneous 
 rushing flow, but will be troubled that ' nothing happens.' (Does anything 
 " happen " in a ' ballad concert ' of three hours' duration ? Does a concert 
 disturb us because " nothing happens " ?) "We see how difficult it would 
 be to please every mind with exactly the same Style ; we see the reason 
 why some critics take Tristan and Isolde to task for its lack of action and 
 of chorus, and others condemn parts of Parsifal and the The Ring for then- 
 display of outer beauty, viz. spectacular beauty. 
 
 There is a very great difference between "lengths." Some may be 
 B those musical extensions of lyrical situations, but it is also possible to 
 worry an audience by ' lengths ' that are not lyrical, as those which merely 
 * narrate events necessary to the understanding of the action, the narrator 
 not expressing his own strongly-felt emotions. Such situations, if very 
 extended, often display their unmusical (unlyrical) character by the very 
 kind of music that accompanies them; it is often suggestive neither of 
 pure musical beauty nor of emotional Music, and examples are not wanting 
 in "Wagner's works of portions of the Music suggesting that the situation 
 did not enthuse the composer himself. They suggest a lack of emotional 
 spontaneity as compared with other parts, and sometimes suggest Music 
 that was the product rather of artifice than feeling. 
 
 One would fancy that it would be somewhat of a relief to the over- 
 whelmed senses of the spectators to sink to the less complex enjoyment 
 of Music solely. No ' intense desire of dramatic progress ' seems to have 
 troubled the enthusiasts of Italian opera, where the action was taken little 
 notice of either by the composer or by the audience. Personally, I believe 
 
 D 
 
3. ACTION (DRAMATIC DEVELOPMENT). 75 
 
 that a great deal of the distaste at "Wagner's ' lengths ' would not have 
 arisen had people been used to his musical Style, and had the music heen 
 adequately rendered.- No wonder that people sometimes assert that they 
 like Wagner's music when they hear it rendered in Concerts, but find it 
 less satisfactory when rendered in the opera-house. If the conditions of 
 the latter be taken into consideration, it is quite possible to explain the 
 abominable mixture that has sometimes been served up to us under the 
 name of Wagner. 
 
 It is one thing to display scenes that do not further the aetion, but yet 
 are lyrical stations, and another to display scenes that neither further the 
 action nor display a lyrical situation and beauty, viz. without any musical 
 recompense for the dramatic hesitation. It is probable that the first kind 
 when natural, is a justifiable procedure in the Style of the Music-Drama 
 as distinguished from that of the spoken Drama. If mere explanation 
 of the situation could be conveyed to the audience by some other means 
 than the narrative dialogue, much that is inconsistent with the Style of 
 the Music-Drama (Z>, E, G i, G 2) would be avoided. Thus the opening 
 scene of Parsifal, especially the explanations of Gurnemanz, although on 
 the whole necessary as information, would be improved perhaps, if con- 
 veyed by some other means, or rather, perhaps, what a pity the action is 
 such a one as to necessitate the narrative. 
 
 Whether chorus-situation can enter into Music-Drama depends upon 
 the way it is compiled. If we make the action very complicated, and 
 give a very important narrative for the understanding of it to the chorus, 
 we can hardly complain if in this case the chorus interrupts and distracts 
 the attention from the action. But if the Drama is simple (Gi) and emo- 
 tional, instead of intrigue and rational elements (D), and if the situation 
 calls for a general feeling of a simple nature and remains homogeneous for 
 a time, then the situation is lyrical to the extent of being choral even. 
 Here we see again that whether a practice which is reprehensible in the 
 Opera is reprehensible in the Music-Drama, depends upon the way in 
 which the dramatic part is handled. Cf. Gotterdammerung, Chorus of 
 Mannen. If the action and situation be highly idealistic {A and B), what 
 a crowd of people do in everyday life has nothing to do with the matter. 
 
 To resume then, the action will be one woven of simple but serious 
 emotional threads of a highly aesthetic quality, and not 'intellectual.' 
 Predominantly nolle (sublime) — the development should be severe, but 
 not complicated or subtle, and the whole should be conceived in a pictorial 
 spirit and a sculpturesque spirit as opposed to sensationalism in Drama. 
 The emotions should be those which impel to expression. There should 
 be a minimum of narrated reminiscent details. 
 
76 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIODEAMA. 
 
 1 
 4. STYLE OF CHAEACTEES. 
 
 That the Music-Drama should require a particular type of human 
 ' character ' seems strange, and yet the presence of Music necessitates it. 
 
 A The 'characters' will differ from persons in, real life in several 
 
 respects. This can be more clearly displayed under the special heads 
 (S), (C), etc. 
 
 B The hero, or ideal man, may be drawn much more beautiful than 
 
 any actual man. The artist may deliberately exclude the ugly and ignoble 
 from a particular character, and paint him pre-eminently grand and beau- 
 tiful as compared with the mixed and faulty character of a real man. 
 Such a grand character can be raised far above anything we are familiar 
 with in our ordinary, life, or would endure in a Drama, which, proposed or 
 pretended to accurately imitate that life. The Music succeeds in making 
 what is a purely fanciful product seem real and vivid. So great is the 
 power of Music. 
 
 That an action is ' ideal ' does not militate against the possibility that 
 the characters are real, although it requires a little thought in order to 
 grasp the co-existence of 'real' and 'ideal' in a work which must be 
 'idealistic' in Style. A Chinaman is 'real/ although he may wear a 
 costume very unlike that which we are accustomed to. A citizen of 
 ancient Athens was ' real,' although costume and Architecture were very 
 different then from what we are obliged to look at from day to day. 
 Apply the idea to the Music-Drama ; the emotions of the characters are 
 ' real ' (like our own emotions), however much their appearance and that 
 of their surroundings may differ from the outward aspects of owr ordinary 
 life. They experience like emotions to those which we experience under 
 like conditions, although their costumes, mode of expression (diction), and 
 environment differ from ours. A character may be vividly and emotionally 
 real, and yet not a modern character in other respects. 
 
 It seems a little unfortunate that Wagner, although he handled some of the loftiest 
 dramatic themes, did not leave behind him any truly god-like characters. One can only 
 imagine what a glorified image of a ; god might have been as exalted by Wagner's Music 
 at its highest. The character of Wotan at times is extremely grand as regards the musical 
 treatment, but morally he seems far below a possible ideal. Certain of his acts are highly 
 reprehensible, and not consistent with the dignity we assign to the highest ideal. Of 
 course he suffers more for his misdoings than Greek deities seem to at times, but this by 
 no means constitutes a conception of pure godliness. However, such was probably not 
 what Wagner as dramatist required. Wotan cannot be said to be the All-powerful for he 
 is singularly bound, and deceit seems to be anything but offensive to him ; he would almost 
 be able to hold his place in the Greek hierarchy, especially if aided by Loge. 
 
 Cr (Ci) calls for great simplicity in the character of the characters: it 
 
 condemns those complicated types and problematical characters which are 
 
4. STYLE OF CHARACTERS. 77 
 
 quite proper to the exhaustive treatment of the ' Novel.' They should be 
 few and sharply defined. They should be condensed from all the possible 
 characters which might enter in the piece, viz. numerically the active 
 ' personal ' should not be as high as might be allowable for a spoken 
 play. 
 
 The dramatist cannot, like the novelist, stop' and deliver a lecture on 
 the anatomy of the minds of his characters at every step. He cannot 
 whisper to his reader between each remark of his characters ^ hence he 
 is dependent upon the divining power of the spectator's mind (cf. Drama 
 and Music, p. 22), and, therefore, his characters must be less subtle, more 
 severely consistent^since their emotions under the various conditions- 
 (situations) must be supplied by the audience. What is most adapted to 
 the Music-Drama are characters marked by selective traits. Such cha- 
 racters might be highly unfitted for everyday life (struggle for existence), 
 and their depiction in novel^form might justify censure. 
 
 (Cz) calls for consistency of character, and for homogeneity in the Gz 
 character of each ' person.' A spoken drama may take account of a change 
 in a man's character, and a novel is admirably adapted to this end by 
 reason of 'its definite means of expression,' the time it may take in 
 relating the whole action and also by virtue of the side descriptions — the- 
 glances at the man's inner nature which are given as part of the author's 
 omniscience of all that is taking place at any time, and in any place in 
 the minds even of his characters. As contrasted with the Novel, stands 
 the ' Opera ' in which any subtleties of change of character are thoroughly 
 out of place, just as any intricate social relations are out of place. In 
 Rienzi we have a great social tragedy which can only be displayed in all 
 its force in a history of the " Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire." It is 
 as a part of a great national drama that Rienzi can be fully appreciated, 
 and that drama found its proper form of expression by the artist Gibbon 
 in his "Decline and Fall, etc." in six vols. This is the Art proper to a 
 drama of a nation or of nations. 
 
 But the romantic Style proper to Music is unfit for such a deep plot as that of the 
 historical figure of Rienzi ; the historical Drama is unsuited to Music. 
 
 Historical plots are not only incongruous with modem Music in the matter of situation, 
 hut the sentiments -which are concerned in historical plots are not lyrical. Does not every 
 one feel that the historical plot is more suited to the 'spoken' Drama? (Cf. Rienzi.) 
 Even in this work (Rienzi), which was composed with little heed of purely artistic 
 ends, Wagner found the right equation — the grandiose Style of Music — the use of trumpet 
 fanfares, etc. 
 
 From the show and brilliancy of Wagner's Rienzi to the purely domestic setting and 
 inner action of the Fliegende Hollander is a step whieh one may well wonder at. That a 
 musician could find the right equation of Music for two subjects so completely different is 
 surprising, but more so is the change of subject-matter. 
 
 In a three-hour performance too much subtlety of character is oppres- 
 sive when we consider the number of musical tones which call for the 
 
78. THE /STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 ajtention of the spectator. The mind cannot enjoy Music if it is to be- 
 distraeted by subtlety of character. 
 
 D Moreover, subtlety of character is somewhat synonymous with intel- 
 
 lect, and that the character should be emotional and unrestrained is pre- 
 scribed by the nature of Music. 
 
 C 2 It will be noticed that this character fitted to the Music-Drama 
 
 differs from real persons in not having an all-round character— in being 
 
 , one-sided — each represents a selective side of human character, exaggerated 
 
 in its particular traits. This is an advantage in two ways. From the 
 
 absence of conflicting traits we are prepared for whatever acts the character 
 
 Oi will perpetrate — the unity of his character precluding any ambiguity in his 
 actions— and the exaggeration of his traits will serve to distinguish him 
 more sharply from the other characters with whom he deals. Hence he 
 will appear sharply defined to our eyes, and will be clearly understood 
 without much effort on the part of the spectator. Distinctiveness and 
 
 ;. self-consistency are the desiderata. Cf. the admirable way in which 
 Wagner's personae stand out from one another. 
 
 {Cj, Cja, C#, and D) all require that the Style of the vocal expres- 
 sion and the instrumental Music accompanying each character shall agree 
 with that character, viz. shall aid us in comprehending his character- 
 shall not belie it at every turn, but aid us in distinguishing it from that 
 
 C 2 of the other characters. 
 
 In this art of musically depicting character Wagner is pre-eminent. Even in such an 
 early work as Tannhauser the characters of Wolfram, Tannhauser, and the Landgraf are 
 surprisingly reflected on the Music. Repeated hearings of Wagner's works will surprise 
 one at what can be done in this respect of musical individualisation, especially when we 
 reflect that the Music is continually altering to express different emotions. Moreover, his 
 characters stand out wonderfully clear as regards their musical depiction. This was one 
 of the weakest features of the ' Opera.' 
 
 q t Costume as an aid to distinguishing the characters (see part 10). 
 
 J) Social intercourse in modern life seems to sanction the repression 
 
 & of expression of emotions, indeed nil admirari almost expresses a certain 
 -^ phase of culture. (Cf. Costumes, above.) Moreover, the increasing pre- 
 dominance of the intellect in the regulation of worldly affairs seems to be 
 threatening the. emotions themselves with complete extermination. It is 
 true, perhaps, that business affairs are much better directed by the intellect 
 than by the emotions, and it may also be expedient for the end of social 
 intercourse to suppress all expression of our natural emotions ; however, 
 for the purpose of the Music-Drama, a type of character is required that 
 assaults the commercial and social code of conduct at every turn. We 
 have seen that to render the pathos of the Music recognisable the ' Stage ' 
 has been called into requisition ; for the ' Stage ' is a vast assemblage of 
 means of expression. Hence the Stage will be rendering its best service to 
 the Music, when it has become most 'expressive' — that is, when the 
 
4. STYLE OF CHAEACTEES. 79 
 
 characters are not the thoughtful and reserved type, but excitable and 
 unrestrained. The cool and reserved character of a gambler may be 
 dramatic in a certain sense, but the character of Siegfried in Wagner's 
 work is the type which is fitted to the Music-Drama. The nature of Music 
 requires not only an emotional character, but also a character given to the 
 expression of its feelings in words and gestures, to render the Music com- 
 prehensible. Independent Drama can afford to be much less particular in its 
 choice of characters, because it has no Music to elucidate or to ruin, and 
 it has the full use of the most definite means of expression — Speech. We 
 have here another reason why the Music-Drama cannot utilise a plot, 
 imitated from contemporary life — the presence of Music precludes the type 
 of man most important in modern life, the cool and reserved thinker, and 
 further precludes the employment of complete and subtle speech — that 
 pre-eminent mode of expression of modern life and art. 
 
 The style of character dictated by the ' emotional ' qualities of Music is E 
 the impulsive character, not the self-contained and reasoning type of man. 
 The energy of his emotions should not dissipate itself in reasoning processes, 
 but spontaneously discharge itself towards the ' outer man ' in expression, 
 viz. song, gesture, acts. We can judge of the nature of an inner emotion 
 by its outward effects only. It must not be supposed that a character 
 cannot be ' real ' because the outer appearance of the person is unlike that 
 of persons in contemporary life. In his ' inner ' and physical side, he is 
 the very counterpart of ourselves. Fashions in dress change rapidly, but 
 the heart of man does not alter at the same rate. The point in which the 
 characters of the Music-Drama are saved from being ' antique ' and entirely 
 uninteresting is that their emotional nature is pictured like ours, although 
 their outer appearance is different. We are face to face with a fellow 
 being, although his costume may suggest ancient Greece rather than 
 modern Paris. Were this association of ideality in costume with reality 
 in soul impossible, the Music-Drama, as we have pictured it, would' be 
 impossible. The ' inner ' side of the Stage is real, though its outer side 
 must be unreal. (Cf. p. 14.) 
 
 Physiological Effect Dramatic Effect 
 
 ^-Facial Muscles 
 >Mouth,etc. 
 >Budy and Limbs 
 
 Mimic 
 
 Speech 
 
 Gesture 
 
 Movements 
 
 Acts 
 
 This diagram may serve to give one a better idea of the mechanics or physiology of a 
 character under dramatic circumstances, and the directions of discharge of nervous energy 
 under stress of a difference of potential between the nervous centre and the outlying neural 
 ramifications. Cf. indefinite and definite roads of neural discharge, H. Spencer, Physiology 
 of Laughter. Darwin, The Expression of the Emotions. 
 
80 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 5. EMOTIONS. 
 
 From this is an easy step to the consideration of those emotions most 
 fitted for depiction in the Music-Drama. They are those natural to such 
 a character as has just been defined. They are those which are most 
 intense and most beautiful, least subtle, and which compel expression, viz. 
 impel the character to vocal utterance, to gesture, and to acts, and further 
 to lyric expression. 
 
 Having seen that the nature of Music requires the action to be founded 
 upon the impulses of emotions and not reasoning, we have now to see 
 whether some emotions are not more fitted than others for the Music- 
 Drama. 
 
 See also B, C i, 2, Oj, Gja, O4, D and E for the detailed modes of 
 difference. It is sufficient to remark here as part of all covered by A 
 that no distinctively modern emotions or sentiments should enter into. the 
 poetical treatment. Political party feelings are entirely unfitted for several 
 reasons. 
 
 In general, the emotions entering into the dramatic representation 
 should differ from distinctively modern feelings and sentiments in being 
 pure human feelings. It is difficult to explain exactly what this means. 
 It is itself a matter of ' feeling ' almost. One might get an idea of it from 
 the subject of ' Manners ' in Drama. Pure human emotions would then 
 mean those that displayed no local colouring in time or space — that were 
 not sharply localised or racially monopolised — those that required no 
 historical background for their appreciation — those not associated with 
 caste systems or cliques. This almost implies that they will not be strictly 
 modern feelings, and those, emotions which are not localised are predomi- 
 nantly those most primitive and deep emotions — those that we in common 
 with other peoples inherit. 
 
 The omission of purely modern emotions is in deference to the sugges- 
 tions of such emotions of the outer aspects of our everyday life which (A) 
 inveighs against. 
 
 In this necessarily ideal (i.e. psychic) part of his heroes, Wagner does not make them 
 antique. He depicts their inner life as real and modern as our own feelings, but he avoids 
 any feelings that would be felt to he distinctively modern. Of course, while the terms 
 ' primitive ' and • pure-human ' and ' universal ' have a pretty definite meaning when applied 
 to art-works, they all savour somewhat of J. J. Kousseau's naive conception of ' primitive.' 
 The ' Golden Age ' will long be a cherished conception of mankind, in spite of scientific 
 facts and probabilities. We also cherish a conception of ancient Greece that is probably 
 tinged with Poetry. We should, perhaps, be somewhat disappointed if we could experience 
 for a day the emotions which a savage experiences. However, from the scientific stand- 
 point, it is probable that mankind differ less in their feelings than in their ideas and 
 theories, and that this holds for Time as well as for Space. The human heart has been 
 
5. EMOTIONS. 81 
 
 clothed in many costumes. By 'primitive' the artist very likely means the 'poetically 
 universal,' and this is highly adapted to art-works, for it satisfies the spectator^ while 
 allowing the artist to depict his own feelings. 
 
 The emotions will be those sanctioned by our sense of Beauty as 
 understood in all the Arts, viz. they will be those emotions Which are 
 wstkctical, not prevailingly ugly, nor filthy as regards object. Thus, highe* 
 love, etc They will not be the lower impulses which might be represented 
 in a novel, but which are not lofty enough for Combination with Music. 
 Amongst the most noble of our feelings are the religious feelings, (Cf, 
 Parsifal.) 
 
 A word of warning is needed as regards the treatment of religious 
 subjects in the Music-Drama. Religion as a Science (Theology) is totally 
 unsuitable, not only for the Music-Drama, but for any ' preventative ' Art. 
 Such matter appeals too much to the intellect. But there is a certain 
 emotional side of Religion, some of those emotions which man may feel 
 towards Nature or God which are very different from theological quibbles. 
 There is, furtheT, a broad moral side to Religion which may or may not be 
 applicable to tlte Music-Drama. In art-Works it is very dangerdus to 
 confuse nobility with religious seriousness, or sensuous Beauty with moral 
 Beauty. From a general view of Art, one is inclined to be very doubtful 
 'regarding the influence of Religion upon Art. Art owes a very great deal 
 to Religion, but there are many cases in which Religion seems to have 
 interfered with Art. As regards the Music-Drama, Wagner's Parsifal may 
 not present the 'norm' of emotions,. It is questionable whether thef 
 suffering of Amfortas is not a little too serious and prolonged, its moral 
 implications a little too deep (C i) for musical expression, or to agree With 
 the qualities B, O and D of Music. Withal, keen suffering is not the field 
 of Music, in spite of the somewhat justifiable modern reaction against 
 ' unalloyed sweetness ' and frivolity in Music. Two things seem liable to 
 mislead us in regard to this question. In the first place, many are in 
 revolt against the ' Opera,' and quite right perhaps, for with its connections 
 of vocal and physiological gymnastics and musical debility it almost 
 Solicits disgust and a predilection for the very opposite qualities in Music. 
 But, as has heen suggested, the faults of the Opera were not so much that 
 the Music was not dissonant as that it was not the best of Music, and par- 
 ticularly because it so palpably disagreed at times with the emotions of 
 the personages, the characters of the drama, and particularly with the 
 naturalistic situation displayed. The fault lay, not so much with the 
 Music as with the play to which it was attached. With masterly Music, 
 sincerity of musical dialogue, nobility of Drama, and an avoidance of sug- 
 gestions of the outer aspects of everyday life, the Opera would perhaps 
 have led to no great reaction against ' sweetness ' in Music. A second 
 cause that contributes to the reaction is probably the general serious tendency 
 «f modern man. He is oppressed by centuries of theological conclusions, 
 
 a 
 
82 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 the great social contrasts and problems' springing thereout, and by the 
 overwhelming complexity of life and knowledge. Hence his natural ten- 
 dency to cultivate the serious and deep side of Art. It is difficult not to be 
 ;, carried -away by such a subject' as Parsifah It is just possible that Wagner 
 was himself. Greek Philosophy may be quite as deep as modern Philosophy, 
 but it is a little .doubtful whether the Greek was quite as ' much in earnest ' 
 as the modern thinker is. Certainly Greek Keligion seems to have lacked 
 that awful seriousness which accompanies a deep sense of moral re- 
 sponsibility. 
 
 But the emotions of Am/ortas can hardly be said to be highly musical. There is a 
 very great difference between the proper use of dissonance and its prolonged use. (Cf. in 
 this regard Liszt's Dante symphony, part i., ■Inferno.') 
 
 Or (Ci)- prescribes simple emotions, not complicated ones; Passion, and 
 
 not mild -sentiments partaking of the disinterestedness of intellectual pro- 
 cesses. This largely coincides with D in its protest against Poetry and 
 Drama not founded upon feeling. In this sense the ' primitive ' emotions 
 are those best suited in so far as they are capable of sesthetical treatment 
 and consistent in other respects. Remoteness from our complicated and 
 ratiocinating- modern life, sesthetical, - pf esentative,' simple and emotional, 
 all these qualities coincide and reinforce one another as protests against an 
 artificial (in its bad sense), heartless Style of Drama and. Poetry for the 
 Music-Drama. 
 
 G2 . According with Drama in general, each emotion will be motivirt, viz. 
 it will ; have its. exciting cause, it will have its due effect, and it will play 
 its important part in the dramatic development. . 
 
 B . {E) prescribes impulsive emotions* that is, such, as tend to pass into 
 
 option, .Thus, the passions of love, anger, jealousy are highly expressive, 
 they impel to action toward a present person, and these actions are just 
 those things which will make the emotion-suggesting Music clear to us.' 
 All emotions do not impel to expression. An emotion which does uot.impel 
 to gesture, action and speech will not make itself felt to the audience which- 
 has these forms of expression only from which to deduce the emotional 
 condition of the actor. Moreover, highly fitted to Stage (Style) in 
 general. 
 
 The affections are dramatic in the sense that they tend to act outwards,: 
 viz. affect some one else, and also because they are very intensely impli- 
 cated in the act of volition (cf. p. 54). Although subjective as felt, they 
 tend towards an effect which is objective, Le. appreciable by other persons 
 than the subject affected. ; ; 
 
 It may seem extraordinary, if not absurd, that the Music-Drama should 
 make any exceptional requirements as regards the emotions entering into 
 it. Moreover, to suggest that some emotions are more adapted to inclusion 
 than others seems to imply a cold-blooded ''mode of constructing a drama* 
 We like to fancyjthat a drama was written because the author could not 
 
"& EMOTIONS.' 83 
 
 help writing it, and was likewise impelled by his feelings- to Write it just 
 in the Way he did. However justifiable any such expectations may be, it is 
 probable tbat considerable thinking is implicated in the making of a 
 drama. The point to be noticed here is that we have nothing to do with 
 dictating the methods of constructing a play, but merely imagine what 
 properties it would probably display if composed with feeling for the~ 
 peculiar Art-field of the Music-Drama. It remains to be proved that the 
 comprehension of such a general standard form would mislead a composer. 
 
 In seeking to indicate those emotions most adapted to the Music-Drama, 
 we should remember that classification of the emotions depends partly 
 upon the elements of (1) the exciting cause, (2) upon the object which the 
 feeling may have. Thus, ' desire ' is a Proteus-like emotion. Desire for 
 woman's love is very different from desire for the possession of a particular 
 municipal office. Some desires are usually excited by the ' presentation ' 
 of the concrete object desired. Other desires respond to complicated and 
 invisible ' representations.' Whether desires and affections are fitted to 
 inclusion in the Music-Drama depends largely upon the nature of the 
 exciting came and upon the object, and this is largely a matter coincident 
 with ' Situation,' part (2). 
 
 Notice also that this holds for the feelings Pleasure and Pain. It is 
 not only expedient that the painful side should not predominate in , the 
 Music-Drama, but also it is of great importance what causes the Pain and 
 Pleasure and what its effect is, and all this is a part of ' situation ' and 
 action (3). It is by no means a matter of indifference. An accident to a 
 train may cause pain, and sadness may be due to a " slump in stocks," but 
 while both these feelings may be legitimate for inclusion in the Music- 
 Drama, these particular causes have no place therein. Among the most 
 vivid and dramatic causes and objects of emotion are human beings, and it 
 is presumable that the Music-Drama will centre about these. 
 
 A somewhat instructive classification of the emotions is that given by 
 Herbert Spencer in his ' Psychology,' vol. ii., from which the following 
 definitions are taken : — 
 
 " Presentative feelings, ordinarily called sensations, are those mental 
 states in which, instead of regarding a corporeal impression as of this or that 
 kind, or as located here or there, we contemplate it in itself as pleasure or 
 pain : as when inhaling a perfume. 
 
 Presentative-representative feelings, embracing a great part of what We 
 commonly call emotions, are those in which a sensation or group of sensa- 
 tions or group of sensations or ideas, arouses a vast aggregation of repre- 
 sented sensations, partly of individual experience, but chiefly deeper than 
 individual experience; and, consequently, indefinite. The emotion rf terror 
 may serve as an example. . ~. . 
 
 Representative feelings, comprehending the ideas of the feelings above 
 classed when they are called up apart from the appropriate external 
 ' G 2 
 
84 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 excitements . . . Instances of these are the feelings with which the 
 descriptive poet writes, and which are aroused in the minds of his readers. 
 Re-representative feelings, under which head are included those more 
 complex sentient states that are less the direct results of external excite* 
 ments than the indirect or reflex results of them. The love of property is 
 a feeling of this kind . . . The higher sentiments, as that of justice, are 
 still more completely of this nature." For our purposes it makes no 
 difference whether this classification is a possible one, or the best 
 one, or the only one. The point is that it presents a certain 
 broad fact about our feelings which is of the highest importance in art- 
 works. The whole subject of the degree of representativeness is bound up in 
 art-works with that of the minimum expenditure of mental energy of 
 art-contemplator in the direction of mere labour, A high degree of repre- 
 sentativeness means a subtlety — a removal from simplicity and naturalness 
 that is portentous for art-works. This is more easily understood by a 
 reference to the classification of the cognitions corresponding to the above 
 by the same author. As regards Poetry, which deals with cognitions as 
 well as feelings, it is of extreme importance to distinguish between words 
 standing for a presentative sensation and for a highly re-representative 
 cognition. The bluntness of our minds in feeling the difference between 
 these is perhaps due to the prevalence in Poetry of much that is too abstract — 
 too ' philosophical ' in spite of the fact that such Poetry may not set forth 
 explicitly any system of philosophy. To treat the matter in detail a whole 
 book would be necessary. In order to gain an insight into the nature of 
 those emotions fitted for inclusion under the general and particular ' situa- 
 tions ' proposed by the conditions of the Music-Drama the serious reader is 
 recommended to critically peruse the following contrasts, keeping in mind 
 the above conditions in as concrete a form as possible. 
 
 B ./Esthetic rather than Non-aesthetic. 
 
 Pleasurable „ Painful. 
 
 Pleasure „ Pain. 
 
 C I Sensuous „ Formal. 
 
 Natural „ Artificial. 
 
 A Pure human „ Conventional. 
 
 Instinctive „ Rational. 
 
 \ /'Distinctively modern or de- 
 Primitive - „ i P^dent upon modern con- 
 
 1 ditions or developed out of 
 \ them. 
 
 D Sthenic „ Asthenic. 
 
 + Energy „ — Energy, 
 
 Strong „ Weak. 
 
 Pleasurable or sad. „ Indifferent. 
 
5. EMOTIONS. 
 
 85 
 
 Dynamic 
 
 Having concrete cause 
 „ „ object 
 Excited by animate cause 
 human cause 
 Having human object 
 Cause and object being one J 
 
 and the same person J 
 
 Direct 
 
 Egoistic and non-egoistic 
 Emotions, and affections andi 
 
 desires I 
 
 Lofty 
 
 Impelling to expression 1 
 
 Dramatic 
 
 Peripherally initiated 
 
 Immediate 
 
 ' Presentative ' 
 
 Simple 
 
 Musical 
 
 Lyric 
 
 rather than 
 
 Static. 
 not — 
 
 Eeflective. 
 Indifferent. 
 
 (Sentiments, especially arti- 
 l ficial ones. 
 Lowly. 
 
 I Brooding, or speechless, or 
 I inhibiting. 
 Idyllic. 
 
 Centrally initiated. 
 Prospective or retrospective. 
 Eepresentative. 
 Complex. 
 Non-musical. 
 Non-lyric. 
 
 B 
 E 
 
 Ci 
 
 Cz 
 
 Cj 
 
 C$a 
 
 &E 
 
 The character of poetical love is so ideal, so above our everyday relations 
 to each other in life, that its expression impresses our sense of propriety as 
 completely suited for the association with the also unrealistic or ideal 
 element of Music. 
 
 The cesthetical aspect of ' love ' in Art. A reason why the emotion of 
 love is so highly fitted for artistic purposes may be found in the fact that 
 love is the least utilitarian of our impulses. It is the emotion which 
 seems to the one feeling it as farthest removed from the humdrum life 
 about him, as it is certainly associated with the most that is beautiful in 
 face, movement, body, etc. It is the cesthetical emotion par excellence. It 
 leads the individual to a desire for all traits that are beautiful, and it is 
 conceivable that this emotion alone might be capable of cultivating the 
 sesthetical nature of a man by leading him to seek the beautiful, to notice 
 those features which are beautiful, and open the way to a keen appreciation 
 of the beauties of form and colour in nature, man and Art. In the sense of 
 cultivating and stimulating man's sense of Beauty the emotion of love stands 
 alone among all emotions, for jealousy, hatred, anger, do not stimulate to the 
 observation of that which is beautiful in nature, man, or Art. Moreover, 
 the emotion of love is associated with pleasure, and in this respect 
 approaches the sesthetical feelings which are founded on the more or less 
 sensual pleasure to be derived from the contemplation of forms, shapes, 
 
 A 
 
86 
 
 THE STYLE, OE THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 B 
 
 E 
 
 colours, tones. It is this emotion which may with propriety be looked 
 upon as the most ideal (useless, lofty, etc.) of those which enter into our 
 daily life. Pleasure in eating and sleeping is too obviously utilitarian^-too 
 associated with animal nature. But the emotion of love presents itself, to 
 each individual as unutilitarian, although its end or purpose as apprehended 
 by a posteriori reasoning may conviuce us of its deep utilitarianism from 
 the standpoint of Nature. (Of. Schopenhauer.) This is one of the 
 strangest features of this wonderful emotion, which, from the objective 
 standpoint as observed through the eye of reason, is intensely animal and 
 utilitarian, nevertheless presents itself to each individual as so highly ideal 
 and unutilitarian — as relative to his or her pleasure only, and subservient to 
 an end which is completely hidden by the present and monopolising 
 pleasure of the emotion. However, whatever the reason may be, the facta 
 of art-woi'ks as a whole show that love is the artistic emotion. An argument 
 for the ' ideal ' (beautiful and expressional) nature of the emotion of love is 
 that it alone among all the emotions seems naturally lyrical to us (viz. 
 lyrical in everyday life even). In a musical Drama the Music requires 
 that the action or situations should not be taken from real life, and we feel 
 the unnaturalness of presenting any , of the relations of our daily life iii 
 their daily common dress, except one, that is love. We do tolerate that. The 
 proper expression of this emotion seems to be melody, and its accompani- 
 ment Music (harmony) even in its everyday aspect 
 
 The emotions must be taken from the category of strong, for only 
 sacb. impel to stoong means of expression. "Love, jealousy, hatred, and 
 revenge are highly ' dramatic ' in fliat they are strong, impulsive, and are 
 directed towards an object, and that a human object. 
 
 The sphere of lyrical emotions. To be lyrical, the dramatic emotions ought to he 
 lyrical, in the sense of demanding expression in' Mvigio and Song. The situation must he 
 
 lyrical, viz. the action and the scene must he lyrical, 
 viz. ' Scenery,' appurtenances, and costume are a part 
 of this 'Style.' Wagner as a musical composer 
 writing his own dramatic part was the first to radically 
 depart from the method of taking a drama written for 
 a spoken drama and altering it to make it fitter for the 
 IfMsic-Drama, He made his dramatic text " musical * 
 ah initio. No rehash of some other Art with all the 
 necessary inconsistencies resulting from the transfer- 
 ence of one Art to another. With Wagner the musical 
 influence is ever present in the same mind with the. 
 creative dramatist, hence the influence is constantly 
 exerted on the embryo drama to render that drama 
 'lyrical' in every respect. The lyiical emotions are 
 roughly those which compel expression, but the Musio- 
 Drama is more limited than the spoken Drama in that, 
 all emotions which compel expression do not compel 
 expression in Music or Song. 
 To make this clear, the diagram in the margin shows by the outer line the total field of 
 emotions, 
 
 Emotions. 
 
 . 
 
 Primitive 
 (viz. Simple) 
 
 
 
 
 Strong 
 
 
 
 
 Lyric 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
5. EMOTIONS, 87 
 
 Among these are the emotions which are simple in their character and purely human in 
 the sense of the legacy of the whole human race. Within this there are some emotions 
 that are impulsive — that is, that strive for expression. Among these are some emotions, 
 represented by the innermost square [rectangle] that are lyric, viz. seek expression in song 
 or something analogous thereto. 
 
 Those who are familiar with Verdi's Otello (as performed) may gain a clearer idea of 
 what is meant by a ' lyrical situation ' and lyric emotions, by contrasting their impressions 
 of the first and fourth acts with those of the third act. The difference for the Style of the 
 Music-Drama between the love-scene of the first act (or the ' Ave Maria ' of the fourth) 
 and the. assembly scene of the third act (reception of the legate) is very great, and has 
 perhaps reflected itself in the Music even. Notice the accumulation ,of unlyric elements 
 of situation in act Ki. sc. 8. • (Chorus in various groups talking together.) 
 
 r- 
 A somewhat similar case of conflicting materials (as regards the subject 
 of the Music-Drama) may be observed in works of 'fiction.' Thus the 
 novels of Sir Walter Scott may sometimes be easily divided into two D 
 parts, one the ' human ' part which every one can understand and is likely 
 to be interested in, and a second part which is ' unhuman' in the sense that 
 it deals with historical events or conditions which appeal to the intellect 
 and not to the emotions. The latter part is often ' skipped ' by readers; 
 and often read as a matter of duty by others. ' 
 
 Metaphorically speaking, the 'human' part of these novels might be Ci 
 Spoken of as ' lyrical ' — as artistic ; and the historical part as fitted to the & 
 student, as scientific — as unsesthetic. - It is absurd to think of conveying in ** 
 songs such dissertations on history as occur in these historical novels, while 
 the parts which deal with human passions and feeling might serve as a 
 groundwork for a musical Drama. Music is ideal or subjective, and can 
 therefore be associated with the subjective movements of human emotions. 
 If a work of art would satisfy the reasons for its existence, it should 
 not require the application of the intellects of its devotees to any great G i 
 extent ; art- works are to make happy the leisure hours of man's life, not C2 
 add labour to that of his hard working hours : and if art-works are to 
 appeal to the people at large they must appeal to that most widely distri- 
 buted element of man's nature — the senses, emotions and sentiments. The 
 business relations of our everyday life are far too complex to appeal to the 
 sensibilities of men, hence their proper medium of conveyance is written or 
 spoken language. Even in the case of ' recited ' Drama, a complexity of 
 action is often sought for by modern writers that demands too great an 
 exercise of the intellect to allow of the audience grasping the ideas without 
 great trouble. 
 
 I have elsewhere ventured the opinion that much of the debasement of Arts arises from 
 'overlapping of Arts,' viz. from the attempt to imitate in one Art designs, etc., which 
 were the outcome of the Tools, Mode of Execution, etc., of another Art (process). The 
 risks of this in the Music-Drama (where there are several Arts seeking for separate atd 
 combined expression at one and the same time) will be patent to any one who thinks 
 seriously about it. 
 
88 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA, 
 
 That Music overlapped Drama in the " Opera " is manifest in the sub- 
 ordination of feeling to 'musical-form.' It is possible that in Wagner's 
 case the opposite tendency obtained, but was kept in abeyance by his 
 sensitive JEsthetic feelings. 
 
 The act of volition under distracting impulses is impressive as an 
 inner process even. (Naively shown by soliloquy accompanying decision 
 and audible ' weighing the question.') But the Stage ' for explanation ' 
 requires the object to be present (Cz)* The Music-Drama requires for its 
 easy eomprehensibility the consensus of all the means of expression 
 C i possible. The inner Drama must be rendered clear, vivid, and forcible. 
 Here we see another reason why modern life is not fitted to the Style of 
 the Music-Drama. The sword is no longer worn in civil life. The Dramas 
 of our everyday life have largely become ' inner ' Dramas. They enact 
 themselves without any swords or violent expressions, or rattle of musketry. 
 With all this lack of the spectacular they may nevertheless be \ery hard 
 combats. A man holding a high position in the government and imbued 
 with sentiments of honour and respect towards the people who have 
 elected him to honestly fill his position, may be exposed by circumstances 
 to temptations which make his ' inner ' life quite as dramatic as that of 
 any romantio ' hero ' ; yet his drama in not taking money or bribes, or in 
 not yielding to social adulation or popular pressure hardly seems heroic 
 even, for it is a negative act. It is certainly not lyrical. 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 89 
 
 & INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 
 
 In Part IL was discussed the function of Music in general, and some- 
 thing was said of its power of suggesting emotions. It is interesting to try 
 to account for this quality. 
 
 Expressive Powers of Mime. — It is important to see that the expressive 
 power of Music is marvellously widened in B. Wagner's musical Dramas 
 through the power of the action to determine the tone of pathos of the 
 Music. The important function fulfilled by the scenery, pantomime, and de- 
 clamation, is to fix the tone of the pathos, to be its determinant by placing 
 the hearer in the proper environment for feeling the full power of expression 
 of the Music. In modern life we repudiate to a great extent the aid of 
 pantomime in making our feelings more expressive to others, but where 
 the indefinite expressive agency of Music is concerned, a single gesture or 
 movement of the actor's body may throw light on a whole passage of 
 Music. The effect of the scenery in putting us in the proper mood for 
 appreciating the force or beauty of the Music is usually overlooked, be- 
 cause we are so familiar with the presence of scenery, and because the 
 effect which it exercises on our senses is so subtle and distant. 
 
 Let any one 'consider how much light is thrown on the remarkable change in Music in 
 the first act of Tminhauser by the collateral complete scenic change from the rose grotto 
 of Venus with its wild passionate music to the calm green landscape of the Wartburg with 
 the completely simple and Idyllic song of the shepherd watching his flock and playing 
 on his pipe. The full effect of the change of music would be impossible in a concert, pre- 
 sentation. (Of course, if the change had once been seen on the stage, much of it might 
 be replaced in a concert from memory, but it still remains true that it was the dramatic 
 presentation which first threw a clear light on the music.) 
 
 How it is that our eyes can aid our minds in divining what cannot be 
 seen, i.e. the invisible emotions of the actors, may be explained by the fact 
 that there is a uniformity of occurrence in things mental and physical, 
 underlying our instinctive mental association of an outward phenomenon 
 (such as a ' situation ' on the stage), with some particular feeling attributed 
 tto the persons concerned. Were this not so, assured suggestion of emotions 
 would not be possible, for it is founded upon mental association, viz. upon 
 uniformity in the mode of occurrence in our past experience. The function 
 of Music is to strengthen the suggested emotion (' re-presentative '), not to 
 independently excite an emotion. It may be a form of symbolism, but it 
 is not cold formal symbolism, and we continually apply it in our everyday 
 life. 
 
 Music is animated or vivified by the hearer just as words are. The 
 listener to Music experiences certain emotions of exaltation, etc., and 
 spontaneously infuses-these subjective feelings into their objective cause, 
 and so animates what is really no more than a stimulus or excitant of 
 
90 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 feeling — Music — not feeling itself. In the same way man projects himself 
 into words, and feels that the idea which a word excites in his mind lay 
 in the word itself — although the ideas which a book is capable of exciting 
 do not hover about the book at all ; there are no ideas in the book itself, 
 although we fancy that the ideas which the writer was conscious of really 
 detached themselves from his brain and localised themselves on those 
 pages of paper. One feels as if ideas could really become something else 
 than subjective experiences confined to our minds as they are, and when 
 we speak of the transfer of thoughts we vaguely fancy that thoughts can 
 leave the mind of one person (through the lips !), and winging their way 
 through the air finally make their way into the mind of another person. 
 
 Words are not feeliugs, nor can a word expressive of a phase of feeling 
 excite that feeling for which it stands (the word " pleasure " for instance, 
 cannot directly excite the feeling pleasure, but only the idea pleasure, 
 which is intellectual, not sensuous. Music can directly give pleasure and 
 Cause discomfort. Although no musical motive can by itself excite a 
 definite emotion such as revenge, jealousy, desire of power, love, etc., 
 yet the general character of the Music may suggest an idea of these 
 emotions by affecting our feelings in respect of pleasure and pain in the 
 same manner as these feelings of pleasure and pain would be evoked by 
 the emotions of revenge, anger, love. This is where Music fulfils its 
 great function, for it makes vivid that part of the (unfamiliar) Drama 
 which appeals to us— the emotions. Music can reach the region of par- 
 ticular emotions by utilising their implications with the broader phases of 
 feeling — pleasure and pain. 
 
 Methods of Composing,. — We have now to speak of the Style, of the 
 Music from the standpoint of its construction. Eespecting Music in 
 general, we may speak of two different methods of writing an extensive 
 piece of Music. One is to compose a series of pieces, each complete in 
 itself and distinct from the others ; this may be termed the serial method. 
 The other method is to choose several themes which, after having been 
 rendered in their simplest form, recur in a more, or less varied form 
 throughout the course of the piece. This may be termed the symphonic 
 method. The first is familiar to us in the succession of chorus, aria, en- 
 semble, duet, etc., of the ' Opera ' ; the other in the symphonies of Beet- 
 hoven, etc. The first seems to savour of orchestral Music founded on vocal 
 Music — a succession of songs. The second method possesses the recom- 
 mendation of having been pre-eminently, a development of instrumental . 
 Music : viewed as a device of composers it offers the advantage that a 
 musical idea is better utilised than if it were merely presented without ; 
 being further^ developed. In a composition; of the. proportions of. an 
 ' Opera,' the serial method, presents a good deal of difficulty to the com- 
 poser in demanding continual creations of ■ new songs, etc. To see some- 
 .of the results 6t the serial method, we need only to remark how dan^eiv <- 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 91 
 
 ously alike some of the arias may be in a single Opera ; still more obvious 
 wben we compare the arias from the many works of some particular com- 
 poser of Operas, and further, the family likeness which radiates from arias 
 from the Operas of various composers. 
 
 Another result was the dry recitative which was a necessary feature of 
 serial song writing. Perhaps the family likeness would have been much 
 more startling, had not conventional recitative come to the aid of the 
 composer in filling out the gaps between his lyrical flights; cf. Musical 
 Stuffing in symphonies, and reasons therefor. 
 
 The symphonic method, on the other hand, allows the themes to be 
 ' utilised ' in two ways, by ' variations ' on them, and by their recurrence. 
 A theme in the composer's mind may become a sort of stimulant to further 
 composition, if it be allowed freedom to expand.itself in ' variations.' More- 
 over, the recurrence of a theme, even in an unvaried form, is pleasing to 
 the hearer, if the recurrence be separated b^y some distance (viz. time) 
 from its previous occurrence. That themes heard in the ' overture ' of an 
 opera recur during the subsequent course of the opera is not unpleasing. 
 Hence, without further reasons, we might be justified in advocating the 
 symphonic method for the orchestral part of the Music-Drama. 
 
 Motives.— The. extended use of the leading-motive method of composi- 
 tion by Wagner is one of the most brilliant t of innovations. Every one 
 who has listened to Italian operas (for instance) must have been struck 
 by the efforts of the composer to vary his airs, not only from those of 
 other composers, but from those which appear in a multitudinous succes- 
 sion in the same opera score even. As for the 'endings' (cadence) of 
 songs, they approximate towards certain types which have become almost 
 settled facts and conventional. The terminations of duets are particularly: 
 cloying, at once honied and hackneyed. As pleasing as the ' full 
 stop' or satisfactory cadence is, it becomes noticeably monotonous when 
 ifadulged in two freely : such repetitions are noticeable in Mozart's Figaro, 
 even. 
 
 On the other hand, who has ever complained of the repetition of 
 motives or themes in the symphonies of Beethoven, or more striking yet, 
 in the variations of one single theme, cf. those of Brahms and Dvorak. 
 It is often the development which is most attractive. In the extension 
 and changes of the original theme, all the ingenuity of the composer is 
 shown, and new beauties brought into being. 
 
 "Whoever accuses Wagner of ' poverty in musical invention,' condemns 
 also, for. instance, Beethoven, for upon how few motives did he found his- 
 symphonies ! 
 
 "This (symphonic). Style required for each sentence (division, period, 
 passage, composition) only two themes, which express the fundamental 
 idea from two sides, in the characters of man and woman so to speak."— 
 Benoit. 
 
92 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 There are, however, special reasons for this procedure. The possibility 
 of the extensive application of the method, is a result of the nature of 
 Drama. A Drama may be looked upon as a more or less full exposition 
 of the development and effects of certain emotions, which in relation to 
 the Drama may be termed the dramatic motives. They are the threads 
 out of which the dramatic web is woven. In other words, they are related 
 to the Drama as the musical ' motives ' are related to the piece which is 
 made from their development and interweaving. Now, as we have already 
 proposed Music as the representative of the emotions concerned in the 
 Drama, it is conceivable that the musical motives, and their musical web, 
 may be made to correspond exactly with the dramatic web. Wherever a 
 phase of emotion recurs in the one, a phase of musical expression (motive) 
 occurs in the other. The Music will then correspond in the finest details 
 with the dramatic development, and the Stage will become the intimate 
 expression and exposition of the Music. 
 
 To recognise the depth of the inner relation between the Stage and 
 the Music, effected by making a musical motive the reflection of a dra- 
 matic motive, we only need compare the result with what would happen 
 if the symphonic method were employed, without observing any relation 
 between the dramatic motives and the musical themes. We should realise 
 the benefits accruing to the Music from the employment of the symphonic 
 method, but the recurrence of a theme in the Music would not concide 
 with the emotional state with which it coincided previously. The inner 
 Drama and the Music would run their respectively different ways — the 
 musical development would not so intimately correspond with the dramatic 
 development. Were we dealing with a mere ' epical ' series of scenes, the 
 result would not be of such importance, but we have postulated a strictly 
 dramatic action for the Music- Drama, consequently an intensely intimate 
 relation between the Music and the dramatic development is of prime 
 importance. Any aid to this should be seized upon, and this is effected 
 when 'leading themes* in the Music are associated with the 'leading 
 motives ' of the dramatic development. If the leading emotional impulses 
 recur, and if musical themes are to recur, associate the themes and the 
 impulses, and they will recur together with redoubled import and force. 
 The variations and recurrence of the themes will no longer be dictated by 
 mere caprice or by musical laws, foreign to dramatic development, but 
 will spring from that very dramatic development which it is their function 
 to present to the senses of the hearer. Here we have at last really dramatic 
 Music, breathing life in every part, excluding ' episode ' throughout. 
 
 Compare a portion of Mozart's operas with Trishm. The first is marked by the* parts 
 into which the Music divides itself; the second work is marked by the difficulty of 
 removing a part without making any additions to give it a satisfactory "closed form.' 
 Mozart's Music is continually pulling up, coming to a full close, and then starting again. 
 
6 r INSTEUMENTAL STYLE. 93 
 
 This is a vital point, for the dramatic effect is often deranged by these purely external 
 stops and starts. The dialogue is continuous, and these musical breaks tend to make it 
 unnaturally fragmentary. (Contrast operas with the continuity of spoken dialogue.) 
 
 We gain in several ways by the adoption of this method of composing. 
 "With respect to the composer himself, it gives a natural impetus to the Cj 
 work of composing. He has now the clear dramatic threads to suggest the 
 musical character of each theme, and to stimulate the evolution of the 
 theme itself. Moreover, he is obliged to grasp the dramatic development, 
 and this is something of a surety against the trite procedure of merely pre- 
 paring a musical score to fit the words of a libretto, without any more 
 than a casual glance at the drama, which " lies outside his domain." 
 
 Once having generated his themes at the instigation of the dramatic 
 motives, their subsequent association is merely a part of his mental nature 
 — the recurrence of one becomes the cause of the recurrence of the other, 
 and the * variations ' of the musical theme are suggested by the varied 
 nature of the situations in which they recur in connection with the recur- 
 rence of the corresponding dramatic motives. 
 
 With respect to the audience, the method means : a greater variety in 
 the Music, due to the composer renouncing the effort to compose a series of 
 long ' arias ' (all different !) and the monotonous recitative which was neces- 
 sary as stuffing ; a greater ' unity ' (continuity) in the Style of the Music, 
 since the themes are interwoven through the whole musical fabric, and the 
 sharp division into 'lyrical' portions and recitative is spontaneously 
 abolished ; a greater dramatic effectiveness of the Music, due to the cumu- 
 lative effect of the recurrence of each leading motive, and its enforced 
 import due to continued and invariable association with a certain dramatic 
 motive ; further, a recalling (reminiscent) power of the Music enabling it 
 to sensuously suggest past occurrences. These are some of the advantages 
 which accompany the use of leading motives in composing. 
 
 The music of Richard Wagner's Music-Dramas is more than mere emotional or 
 programme music, it is Music dramatised. It is not only emotional — it is dramatic, 
 and this in two senses. First, the leading motives are" not mere musical phrases which 
 agree in a general way with the words of the dialogue which they accompany^-they are 
 motives in the sense of dramatic motives. As compared with pure formal music they 
 are infused with a personality — are rendered anthropomorphic. The mere music is vivified 
 by having the breath of life breathed into it by the creator of the Drama. The music is 
 a personification as compared with mere formal music. 
 
 Secondly, there is a dramatic Unity in Music composed by leading motives corresponding 
 to the dramatic unity of the dramatic action. The themes are real ' motives ' to action 
 —they recwr as the dramatic motives recur. There is really no episode. If one aria ^3 
 followed another, the whole would be episode as compared with this music in which each 
 musical « motive' is a recurring feature, and gives dramatic unity to the whole. 
 
 Just as a single emotion or a string of emotions does not constitute a ' drama,' so no ' 
 musical theme or string of them makes dramatic music, viz. for the Music-Drama. This c jf 
 point is reached only when each emotional impulse entering into the Drama has received ■& 
 its particular musical exponent, and these musical counterparts have been arranged in the 
 same order us that which the ' impulses ' follow in the actual Drama:. 
 
94 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 G2 The apparatus of the action of the ' Opera ' was too obvious. The 
 
 opening chorus, the interspersed arias, duets, concerted pieces, etc., were so 
 obviously imposed on the action from considerations entirely outside of the 
 natural requirements of the dramatic action. The distribution did not 
 spring from the natural exigencies of the Drama, but rather from the 
 
 B considerations of musical effect. The 'process was like designing the 
 facade of a building and then compelling the building to conform to it ; 
 but the effect is more exasperating on account of its suggestion of insincerity 
 and lack of feeling (C 4). 
 
 Leading Motives : Recitative. — The rising and sinking of the orchestra in 
 accordance with the feelings of the actor, and the change in the vocal part 
 from the song to the recitative, find an analogy in Drama when the 
 lofty poetic diction is followed by prose dialogue for the less emotional 
 parts. In this respect the differentiation of the Music of the Opera into 
 ' aria ' and dry ' recitative ' was justified — the latter serving to convey ideas' 
 which were important for the comprehension of the action, the former to 
 express the more emotional part of the action. The fault of this procedure 
 lay in the harshness of the transition from lyrical parts to the ' recitative ' 
 and in the utter conventionality of the process. The sudden drop from 
 vocal melody with full orchestral accompaniment to the dead effect of 
 barren recitative was likely to produce a shock like that experienced 
 at the drop from vocal dialogue to spoken dialogue in some operas. ; 
 
 C4. Further, the conventional succession (order) of ' introductory recitative 1 
 and aria ' is suggestive of an absence of feeling on the part of the singer. 
 
 The advantages of the division may be realised, and the fault of abrupt 
 transition eliminated, by making the larger part of the vocal part in the 
 style of recitative, and by not allowing the orchestral part to rise and sink 
 so suddenly, as it often did in the Opera in passing from recitative to aria,' 
 and vice versa. 
 
 Cj The leading motive as a cause of musical unity (or continuity). The unity in the 
 
 music of Wagner's later works may be partly attributed to his method of composing by 
 ' leading motives ' instead of by songs, or by arbitrary divisions of the text. The word 
 ' recitative ' does not become a signal to him to lay aside all his talents as a composer and 
 write a purely conventional series of notes for the voice. His orchestra is not a mere 
 accompanying instrument for accompanying at certain times, and to slink into obscurity 
 at other times. It is all-pervading. 
 
 The recurrence of emotions and ideas in the course of the dramatic action compels a 
 recurrence of the corresponding motives in the Music, and consequently ensures a certain 
 unity in. the style of the Music. The motives reappear throughout the whole of the score ; 
 they are the threads which prevent the Music from appearing like a succession of songs, 
 each composed at a different time and in a different style. Each of Wagner's .(later) works 
 displays a (musical) unity like that of a bronze figure which has been cast at a single 
 founding. However, it is not a pure musical unity like that of a symphony. 
 
 In reference to the method of composing by ' leading motives ' as affecting the ease and 
 style of composition, the case of Wagner may be taken. The music of Hienzi is not 
 without its merits, but. there are parts where the vocal melody suggests a difficulty in 
 trying to find something novel within the old lines. It seems possible that his subsequent 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 95 
 
 originality in music .was owing rather to the application of a new method of composing 
 than to the increased practice in composing, for the change came after his thirtieth year. 
 The composition of wholly original ' arias ' seems to have offered difficulties at times, hut 
 when dramatic feeling dictated the music, and the methods of composing with ' leading 
 motives' had been elaborated, and absolute and despotic vocal melody had been renounced, 
 originality did not require to be so sedulously sought after. Wagner speaks of the 
 composition of the music to Tristan as having been a real pleasure. To write a song, or 
 set a number of notes in a certain series which shall differ from any other series ever 
 conceived, and to make this series conform to certain rules of succession of the notes, is to 
 make that which precludes caprice or variety — viz. rules — produce something that shall 
 possess great originality — viz. differ from those existing series (songs, &c.) from which 
 those very rules were drawn. A posteriori rules are to produce in an a priori fashion 
 something different from that from which they are drawn. This is the difficulty which is 
 pressing in the case of ' arias ' founded on a ' one line ' (the vocal melody) method of 
 composing. 
 
 But when the rules consequent on purely formal music are left somewhat in the 
 background, and dramatic feeling becomes the prime mover in the act of composing — an 
 impetus so general in its nature — so undefined as compared with rigid rule, that it does 
 not demand any one melody or series of harmonies, it may excite many different musical 
 phrases as a fit expression of itself. Cold reflection is a poor substitute for an enthusiastic 
 impulse as an impetus in composing. The musical ' continuity ' which is likely to result 
 from the method of composing by leading motives is indicated by the great difficulty of 
 making excerpts from Wagner's later works without doing violence to the music. This is 
 not the case to the same extent in his earlier works. 
 
 The Music of part of the Flying Dutchman seems to indicate that. 
 Wagner was a proficient composer at this early period even, therefore it 
 seems probable that the whole change in the Style of his Music from this 
 work to Gotterdammerung was not so much due to Wagner's increased 
 practice in composing Music as in his employment and development of the 
 method of composing which heralded itself in the Flying. Dutchman. The 
 changes in the musicalform may be referred to the employment of a 
 method by which the flow of the Music was (in smallest detail) governed 
 by the dramatic development rather than exterior musical form. 
 
 Thus, in Music one may have the mere serial or epical Style, or one 
 may have the recurrent or dramatic Style, in which the musical current 
 corresponds to the sequence of dramatic motives in the drama which it 
 accompanies. 
 
 The theme becomes more momentous with each repetition or recurrence. 
 There is a cumulative effect due to repetition of experience. In fact, the 
 efficiency of the leading-motive in recalling a situation or in impressing an 
 inner character upon our minds is founded upon the psychological fact of 
 ■ mental association.' In a symphony the recurrence and development of 
 themes is somewhat restricted— localised. In the Music-Drama, on the 
 contrary, a theme is liable to recur in any part, irrespective of scene or 
 act. It might be conjectured that themes would recur in any and all of 
 the Music-Dramas ! There are some isolated cases of such inter-recur- 
 rences in Wagner's works, but a moment's thought will show that such a 
 practice would not , be salutary. In fact, the way in which Drama can 
 
96 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 react upon composition in the composer's mind seems to be displayed by 
 the very remarkable ' character ' (viz. individuality) displayed by the Music 
 of each of Wagner's works. Any one who has listened to a concert perform- 
 ance of instrumental excerpts from Wagner's various works, from the Flying 
 Dutchman up to Parsifal, can testify to the remarkable musical distinctness of 
 each. There is a timbre, a ' colouring ' about Wagner's leading motives which 
 seems to ' come naturally ; without being sought for in a musical direction. 
 Music as Means of Expression. — In commenting on the power of Music 
 to arouse concrete images, it is usually forgotten that, where the mind has 
 experienced a certain melody in connection with a certain scene, there is 
 a form of ' mental association/ and hence in the same category as speech, 
 for if the associated experience be impressed on the mind, the recurrence of 
 the one experience will cause a recurrence of the image of the concrete scene, 
 and hence Music may speak as language if it only adopt the same prin- 
 ciple — mental association. 
 
 In Wagner's works there is this association of the spectacular, or that which appeals 
 to the eye, with the Music or that which appeals to the ear. The efficiency of the leading 
 motive is founded on the same principle, and increases the ' expressive power ' of Music 
 accordingly. Moreover, Wagner plays upon this principle in still another way. In 
 Siegfried's death-scene the awakening of Briinhilde recurs to Siegfried — 'here we have the 
 ' expressive power ' of Music displayed in all its noble "beauty and in its strength. The 
 recurrence of the Music of the awakening (the strange chords and figure of Siegfried, 
 act iii. sc. 3) becomes the cause of a recurrence of the ' concrete ' images formerly associated 
 with it — the scene of the awakening of Brunbilde by Siegfried. This is a most splendid 
 instance pf the ' expressive power ' of Music raised to the point of vivid reminiscence. 
 Another case is the recurrence of the curse-motive throughout the Trilogy. Thus the 
 faculty of memory is added to that of emotions, feelings, and will-power in the faculties 
 Of musical expression. 
 
 The Flying Dutchman contains instances of this reminiscent application of Music. 
 Also Lohengrin, iii. 2, where Elsa remembers the Swan. It is just herein that we can 
 discern the naturalness of the procedure of employing ' leading motives,' for it is founded 
 upon that phase of memory known as ' mental association.' Its mode Of origin in Wagner's 
 case, as related by himself, with regard to the Flying Dutchman, shows this. Nothing 
 exceeds the subtlety with which these associations are formed by the effect of a lively 
 imagination under the influence of the emotional impulse. 
 
 So Richard Wagner raised the 'expressive power' of Music far beyond its narrow 
 limitations in programme Music : by combining scenery, pantomime, and dialogue, with 
 Music he renders Music capable of actually exciting concrete images With little possibility 
 of error, whereas the Symphony excites the most 'diverse concrete' ideas in different 
 minds. (Cf. different ' interpretations ' of Beethoven's symphonies.) 
 
 However, such uses of the leading motive must not presuppose" any 
 effort on the part of the spectator to remember musical themes, either in 
 the matter of committing them to memory or of -recalling them. This is a 
 point wherein musicians are liable to be misled by the facility with which 
 they recognise themes. But it will not do to depend upon this faculty ofi 
 the part of all observers, and its abuse by the composer would be totally 
 Contrary to the spirit of Gi and 02. Leading-motives should not be 
 turned into mechanical problems for the memory — however much pjeastfr* 
 
'6. ^NSTEtTMENTAL STYLE. 97 
 
 it may give professional musicians to isolate them, and name them, and 
 reason about them. This is a case where * shop ' is liable to interfere with 
 a lofty Art. 
 
 To suppose that the hearer must in addition to following all the 
 intricacies of the Music-Drama carry on a sort of running commentary 
 upon musical form in general, as well as that displayed by the composition 
 under review in particular, is asking a little too much. We have already 
 suggested the extreme complexity of the mental activities concerned in the 
 audition of the Music-Drama and the danger that lies therein for the Art. 
 Those who would make such a demand as the above would probably 
 belong to one of the following classes of hearers of music : (1) the more or 
 less professional musician who, with the tendencies of the pedagogue, 
 would fain exercise his professional duties associated with teaching the 
 grammar of music ; (2) the musical ' critic ' who feels himself bound to 
 decide upon the comparative merits of each piece of music with which he 
 comes in contact, somewhat like the compulsion which the newspaper 
 critic feels to say something, whether it be entirely called for or not ; (3) the 
 hearer who has been used to listening to ' independent ' music solely, and 
 is accustomed to busy himself during the performance of a work with 
 problems in technical analysis. He cannot renounce a source of pride that 
 has given him so much trouble to acquire from books, etc., and this in the 
 presence of music even that does not propose to display any artificial 
 ' form,' and hence he suffers much from any absence of this form. The 
 same considerations apply to the search for ' leading motives ' in "Wagner's 
 works. It is a predisposition of the mind like that implied by the assertion 
 that a composer could not create without certain rules. The painter 
 Turner is said to have found great difficulties in explaining clearly the 
 subject of ' perspective,' but painting in perspective does not seem to have 
 given him much trouble. 
 
 The idea that ' the enjoyment of Music without the above mental com- 
 ment is a sort of immoral sensuality ' is a na'ive predisposition which 
 amounts to a firm (although unexpressed) belief in the minds of some 
 people. An explanation of this may probably be found in the fact that 
 those people who have taken the most interest in the higher flights of 
 Music have, on the whole, been the most highly developed intellectually. 
 It is a rudiment of that hierarchal age of ' the Grand Monarch '—or of the 
 witty period of Voltaire. It is not confined to Music, but is particularly 
 prevalent in literature, in which it suggests the period in which those who 
 were not masters of a dead language were irretrievably debarred from 
 literary enjoyment and the possession of any opinion concerning Literature. 
 It is one of the most obstinate predispositions, and seems to enjoy almost a 
 religious sanction in the minds of some people puritanically disposed. The 
 prime error i3 probably in the refusal to distinguish between different kinds 
 of sensuous enjoyment which, if applied to intellectual activity^ would 
 
 H 
 
98 THE STYLE QE THE MTJSiaDEAMA. 
 
 amount to the monstrous assertion that mathematical reasoning was 
 wicked, because it was through reasoning- that, a clever fraud was practised 
 by some villain. Eeeling may have its bad surroundings, and so may ideas 
 too, But all ideas are not filthy, nor is musical enjoyment so, however 
 " sensuous.'' it may be. 
 
 Likewise in extolling the expressive powers of Music one must not go 
 too far. Fox our purposes it. is only necessary to. take t]a.e safe " middle 
 road.'' Programme Music can be very' suggestive — especially to the 
 professional musician, but. from considerations of Art in general, it. 
 seems expedient that the Music should possess a face vahce^-a, musioal 
 Beauty as well as any deep complex concrete meaning. That Music 
 i$ suggestive is a matter of experience. It, is just possible that E. Wagner 
 inclined in practice a little too strongly towards the feasibility of Music as 
 a, means of 'accurately exciting definite, concrete images, and this in spite of 
 his notable objeotion to the, idea of programme- Music. Some of h* 8 0TCn 
 ' programmes '• display this (cf. that, to 9th Symphony). It is questionable 
 whether Music could of itself- suggest the figure (" slender/' etc.) of 
 Tannhauser (cf. TannMuser-mertuTe), and that a first hearing of the prelude 
 to, JOphejngrin would ensure the visions of the approach of the Grail without 
 any preliminaries is very doubtful. Certainly leading-motives cannot be 
 called into requisition to explain a prelude which paeeecks. the Music-Drama 
 in which they occur. The difference between such an assumption and the 
 case of the death march of Siegfried is immense. It is very fortunate 
 that Wagnejfs overtures, and preludes possess that face value above referred 
 to, and one. is, almost inclined to. the opinion that the function of the 
 prelude should pretend to no more than the preparation of the mind for the 
 subsequent Drama or following scene. 
 
 To suppose that music couhi exGit^ anything so, concrete as a cup, or 
 as a, particular cup to the average person hearing it for the. first time is. 
 expecting too much of' music, and if assumed' in theory might lead to, very 
 doubtful art procedures by those composers who are naturally attracted- 
 towards, the ' symphonic poem ' by that ' expectancy '■ which ihe frequent 
 performance, of parts of W'agnerfs works in concerts has given rise, to, in 
 the minds o| average concert Jcequenters. 
 
 Wagner's, method of composing by means of the leading-motives is a 
 means of -directly extending the expressive powers of Music, for the method; 
 makes use of the psychological fact, of mental association. It is necessary 
 to, see that the process of association is capable, of increasing the expressive^ 
 ness oft Wagner's works emrrmmsly^ in fact it is the, basis of language 
 itself- " ConyenMovk " is only another, term for* general mental association. 
 Moreover, the association of, an idea with a vocal sound may be entirely 
 capricious, for the presence, of the- sensation, of the sound in the min d of] the 
 hea^r, wiB' be sufficient to, grouse the idea, arbitrarily, associated with the 
 given sound. By the employment of leadingi motives the expressive ppgsi^ 
 
6. INSTEUMEKTAL STYLE. 99 
 
 bilities of Music are raised to that of latywitfe aimosti That musical 
 notes can actually perform the same function as speech s even in cases 
 where distinctness is very important, is shown by the use of bugle calls 
 for giving commands to large bodies of men in military manoeuvres in war 
 and peace. 
 
 Moreover, in Wagner's total drama the associated factors are so multifold — acting-— 
 situation, speech itself (dialogue), and symbolism of objects — all these things conspire to 
 fasten the meaning of a certain musical theme on the mind — ail the more forcibly by 
 reason of their complexity and number. As the auditor is conscious -of a certain theme or 
 motive in the orchestra, so he is conscious at the same time of the stage 'setting ' — the 
 general environment; of the animate and-iBanimate objects — of the preceding action, &c. 
 The culminating scene oX act i. of WalkSre is sufficient to stamp the significance of the 
 ' swotd-s&nfaa-e' lastingly upon the mind of the spectator, so tremendous is the cumulation 
 of effect — the sword flashing in the hand of Siegmund — drawn from the tree-trunk at a 
 time of keenest need, swung before the wondering eyes of Sieglinde who has led Siegmund 
 to the gaining of the sword — revenge for her rape, and love for herself. The conditions of 
 this culmination are such that the significance of that fanfare is stamped in a lasting 
 manner upon the mind of the spectator. 
 
 In order that Music alone may excite concrete images (representations 
 of efy'eds, not merely phases of pathos^ the hearer must first know the parti- 
 cular images which the Music is to excite (given by a printed programme), 
 and he must further know what part of the Music applies to a particular 
 image, otherwise there will be no surety nor uniformity. 
 
 No programme can efficiently secure this. Programme Music calls for 
 intellectual activity on the part of the hearer in ' checking off' his images', 
 that they may coincide with the Music as it proceeds. This is inconsistent' 
 with the thorough enjoyment of the Music. 
 
 On the contrary, the Music-Drama supplies those images directly to 
 the mind by placing them before the eye. It calls for no intellection on 
 the part of the hearer; the objects are there before him, and their order of 
 ■presentation coincides with their order in the Music. No acts of judgment 
 m ' checking off' are required, nor does the mental labour of evolving 
 the images' devolve on the hearer, all this' is done for him on the stage by 
 the prepared concurrence of the stage,, and of the Music constituting the 
 performance. 
 
 For is any " convention " required ;, the convention is effected by the 
 simultaneous effects' of the Music and the situation to which it refers; It 
 is absurd to suppose that each leading motive must be known previously' 
 and associated with the object, or personage to whom it relates— if the per- 
 formance does not do this sufficiently in itself there is something wrong. 
 
 Programme Music presupposes an audience of trained musicians. The' 
 Music-Drama possesses the most natural means of establishing a mental 
 association, namely— visible situation contiguous with (accompanied by) 
 orchestral Music, of a characteristic (adapted) kind. Thus the two sets of 
 sensations are impressed' on the' m«d in ass&eiattm, which means thai/ if 
 one set recurs (the Music for instance), the other set. is liable to recur. 
 
 H £i 
 
100 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 So far as mental association is concerned, a picture-lesson could not be 
 more fortunate, for the two sets of sensations are not only synchronous 
 (contiguous), but they are like in kind — have the same emotional spring 
 (association by contiguity and likeness or by identity of cause.) This shows 
 us again why the leading motive is most dramatic, for by it, episode is 
 excluded. 
 
 We can picture the mind of the hearer as actually craving the recurrence of like strains of 
 music with the recurrence of a situation or emotion like those which previously accompanied 
 the situation or expression of the emotion, and being disturbed by the obtrusion of a com- 
 pletely new orchestral score as a result of writing a series of songs to a given text. The 
 (expectancy) naturalness of the procedure is evinced by the mode of origin of the employ- 
 ment of the leading motive in Wagner's mind. 
 
 That the image of a certain dramatic situation which the musician has associated with 
 a particular musical phrase should cause that phrase to recur is so natural, that it seems 
 difficult to see why it did not produce its effect long before Wagner took advantage of it ; 
 that is, did not lead to spontaneous use. 
 
 Music, in combination with acting, can tell us the state of mind of the actor, although 
 it may not be able to tell us the ideas which are passing through the mind of the actor. 
 If he is sitting with his eyes on a book and the music is suggestive of quiet contemplation 
 (Meistersinger, act iii. sc. 1) we need be in no doubt concerning the nature of the situation 
 or of the state of the person's mind. The music may also tell us the nature of the thoughts 
 which are passing through his mind, whether they are pleasant (Siegfried, act ii. sc. 5?) 
 or exasperating (Meisters., Beckmesser in act iii. sc. 3). Combined with violent gestures, the 
 music may suggest an excited condition of the mind (Mime's fear, Siegfried, act i. sc. 3 ; 
 Brtinhilde's rage, Qotterdammerung, act iii., &c). But the expressive power of music 
 does not stop at merely suggesting the emotional state of a mind. In connection with the 
 dramatic development it may essay to suggest the state of pathos, the particular emotion 
 which is affecting the mind, for the development of the drama is here a determinant of 
 what the mind naturally would experience ; the music working with this as a basiB can 
 intensify the suggestion which the stage gives (Tristan and Isolde, act i. sc. 3, just after 
 the fatal potion has been drained). That music may give us the key to a religious 
 situation is a matter of common experience in church music (solemnity, devotion, religious 
 exaltation, jubilant spirit, &c). 
 
 Without the aid of vocal expression even, music can also tell us the images which are 
 predominant in the actor's mind, if they refer to a former situation of which we have 
 been spectators. The recurrence of the music excites an image of the situation which 
 accompanied it, and thus we transfer to the mind of the actor, if the present situation 
 demands it, Beckmessor's remembrance of the turmoil on the previous eveniDg. The last 
 great step in extending the expressional powers of music is the addition of words. The 
 last Idop-hole of doubt as to the emotions concerned in a situation is sealed by the presence 
 of words capable of exciting distinct ideas in the mind of the hearer. " Words " are not in 
 themselves emotions, nor do they necessarily excite emotions in us as hearers, but they 
 may be significant of emotions which the actor is experiencing, and they may excite in us 
 the idea of the particular emotion which is impelling him to an act. However, we do not 
 often require the action to actually inform us of his emotions by name. Even with speech 
 we still reserve for ourselves the pleasure of discerning rather than by being flatly told. 
 The great service which speech can perform is to inform us, not of the emotion itself, but 
 of its surrounding circumstances. The novelist is able to name an emqtion, and treat its 
 development in a full and scientific manner. As spectators of the stage, we merely 
 demand that the emotions may be displayed in their outward effects, feelin" sure that if 
 this is forcibly accomplished, we shall be sufficiently informed of the emotions at play. 
 We do not need to be explicitly informed by Othello that it is jealousy which he is 
 experiencing. The bearing of this on the Music-Drama is that the vocal utterances tell us 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 101 
 
 more plainly than words the state of mind (emotional) of the actor (personage). The 
 words confirm this by disclosing the surrounding ideas which relate to the emotion. To 
 take an instance, it is hardly conceivable that the first act of Tristan could be clear without 
 words, for the foregoing incidents are not performed, but ' related ' in the vocal dialogue. 
 No music could narrate to us the distinct events postulated as preceding the rise of the 
 curtain. Words are the means of informing us about the circumstances surrounding the 
 emotions — their cuise, that to which they impel, &c. Thus the utterance of "Tristan" 
 by Isolde, and " Isolde " by Tristan gives us the emotional state in the vocal tones, but the 
 object to which it pertains in the word. (Cf. Herbert Spencer's statement to the effect that 
 tone of voice is the comment of the feelings upon the propositions of the intellect.) 
 
 This reminds us of the relation between Music and the Stage ; the vocal tones, together 
 with the strains of the orchestra, give the expression of the emotion, the word gives the 
 person to whom it relatts. The same distinction may be noticed in speech ; the emotional 
 state is marked by the tone of the voice, but the ' relations ' are expounded in the words. 
 A simple shriek is indicative of a state of excitement, while the cry ' murder ' indicates the 
 cause of the excitement, and the name of the assassin indicates a certain person. 
 
 To resume then — The intelligibility of speech is based on establishing 
 a mental association between a particular sound, or combination of sounds, 
 and an idea. The mental association ensures that the sound or sounds will 
 excite the idea in the mind of the hearer. Now a somewhat similar device 
 applied to Music extends its capacity for expression almost to the point of 
 speech. 
 
 Where the mind has experienced a certain melody in connection with 
 a certain scene to an extent sufficient to impress both upon the mind, 
 there is generated a mental association between the sensations of the 
 melody and of the scene. The recurrence of the melody is likely to 
 excite a represented image of the scene, and vice versa. The underlying 
 principle of Language may be utilised to increase the expressiveness of 
 Music by adopting the expedient of the ' leading motive.' 
 
 We have seen that the stage furnishes a continual succession of situa- 
 tions attended by the current of Orchestral Music. Hence the possibility 
 is offered of impressing the spectator's mind with a ' situation ' in connec- 
 tion with a particular musical phrase. Not only a situation, but also 
 objects and the characters themselves may be thus associated with a 
 musical phrase. Further, if that particular musical phrase be associated 
 with an object or personage throughout the whole representation, it may 
 even play the part of memory, for the recurrence of the musical theme 
 is likely to cause an image of the particular situation, object, person, etc., 
 previously associated therewith to arise in the mind of the spectator. The 
 effect of a 'narrative' by one of the actors might be heightened by em- 
 ploying the same themes in connection with the same situations that 
 the spectators had previously witnessed in preceding scenes upon which 
 the narrative is based. 
 
 The process may be carried one step further, by rendering the associa- 
 tion more 'inner.' We have spoken of the capricious association of any 
 two sets of sensations, without reference to any likeness between the two 
 sets. The mind is not only able to associate sensations, but it is also 
 
100 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 keenly sensible to likeness among sensations. The larger part of the words 
 ^phonetic part) in our language bear no essential likness to the ideas with 
 which they are arbitrarily linked. But there are some words (especially 
 those relating to objects which have auditory qualities) which are a more 
 or less happy attempt to reproduce the sound which they stand for, or the 
 object to which that sound pertains. Likewise in English ' spelling* ; the 
 spelling of some words aspires to phonetic consistency (fidelity), that of 
 others lacks all consistency. The mind is more pleased in associating 
 things which are alike in some respects, than in associating things which 
 bear no likeness whatever to each other. The association between concrete 
 (objects and musical phrases might be made more natural if there were 
 some bond of likeness between the two. Happily, the very nature of 
 Drama renders this possible. 
 
 We have seen that every feature entering into the Music-Drama should 
 be ' motivirt,' that is, it should have its bearing on the progress and out-, 
 come of the dramatic. action, viz. be emotional in its effects, in so far as 
 it is related to the ' inner ' Drama. Now we have seen that Music cannot 
 possibly present the visual aspects of objects. Music does not appeal 
 directly to the eye, how then can it deal directly with the world which, 
 affects the eye only ? 
 C 5 Eeferring to the relation of concrete objects on the stage to the Drama 
 
 itself, we see that each object not only appeals to the eye, but it takes a 
 part in the dramatic development — it is the cause of emotions, although 
 it is not itself emotion. Now Music is able to suggest emotions, which 
 thus become the connecting link between sensations so unlike as sight 
 and sound. We might say that although Music cannot present a cannon 
 with its barrel and wheels complete, it can present the ' cannon's roar,' 
 and it can further suggest the emotion of terror which the roar may excite 
 in human breasts. Putting the ' cannon's opening roar ' aside, and turning 
 to the Music-Drama, we see that by inclusion in a Drama anything may be. 
 made an ' emotion-exciter,' and in this guise becomes musically presentable. 
 The voice cannot reproduce the visual aspects of objects, but may often 
 imitate the audible effects. Putting the ' effect ' for the ' cause ' is a com- 
 mon feature of Poetry, and the child's designation of a cow as moo-moo 
 is a species of instinctive ' metonymy ' — it is an evasion of the impossi- 
 bility of presenting a visible object vocally. It is also interesting to view 
 the subject from the standpoint of * symbolism.' The ' fish ' is a less 
 obvious symbol than the 'cross' or the 'lamb.' Music cannot possibly 
 reproduce ' fish ' or ' cross,' or ' Iamb,' but it may suggest the ' inner ' nature, 
 of Him to whom these symbols relate. This may serve to explain the. 
 wonderful part which Music can play in that * symbolism ' which is one 
 of the features of the Music-Drama style. In becoming a -symbol, an object; 
 becomes an intrinsic part of the drama ' into which it enters ' ■ it also 
 becomes presentable in Music, which then is -able to suggest and intensify 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE-. 103 
 
 that of which the object is a ' symbol.' "We pan alsd see why the dramatic 
 style alone allows this mode of treatment. A spear or a cup on the stage 
 are in themselves nothing — they may be mere ' stage belonging's,' mere 
 episodes. As such they cannot be treated musically (unless rattling or 
 clinking may be called inusieal). But the moment they become dramatic 
 powers (as in Parsifal), exercising an influence on the dramatic events, 
 standing for spiritual powers, they may be musically treated. They appeal 
 to the mind through the eye as 'symbols,' while the ear reveals and 
 enforces that of which they are the symbols — their dramatic import. 
 
 This displays again the importance of the 'leading motive,' for the 
 whole expedient of association between an object and a particular phase of 
 music hangs on the persistent recurrence of two together, and this is the 
 distinguishing character of the ' leading motive ' as distinguished from any 
 mere recurrent musical phrase. 
 
 To see more clearly what is meant by the ' dramatic import ' of an 
 object (spear, cup, etc.) we may observe that as soon as the mere ' imitative ' 
 method of presenting things musically is renounced, the object may be' 
 represented in many ways. We have more than one ' leadihg motive ' 
 associated with an object agreeing with its several dramatic aspects. 
 Further, the leading motives of the same object may be musically repre- 
 sented in quite a different manner in two different Dramas (compare and 
 contrast the '' spear ' in Parsifal with the ' spear * in Siegfried). This 
 means that the object has become a real ' motif ' in the drama, and as 
 such, plays a different part in different dramas, and reveals itself as a 
 multiple working power in one and the same drama even. This is an 
 assurance that the object is not a mere episode, it has become a psychic 
 factor, and it has become a dramatic factor, and as such it may be presented 
 musically in several ways in one and the same drama, and in a different 
 manner in different dramas. 
 
 We now recognise the Style of the Music and how the difficulty of pre- 
 senting the visible world in Music is successfully obviated. It remains to 
 point out how the suggestion of emotion by the leading"mbtive may be made 
 surer, by choosing a musical expression not capriciously, but by fitness of 
 expression (musical symbolism). 
 
 All music which is emotional in its nature may be looked upon as a C 5 
 Species of subtle synecdoche. Thus in Wagner's method of musical expres- 
 sion the effect of an object (sword, etc.) is put for the object itself. This is 
 a common device of poets to make their recitals more vivid. By Music 
 alone, objects which appeal to the eye cannot be represented realistically, 
 but this poetic device of synecdoche enables a composer to escape the 
 danger and gain poetic advantage from his weakness. Objects are not only 
 objects per se, but are emotion-stimulators as well, hence the emotion 
 stimulated by them may be put for them. As Music is a. most admirable 
 means of stimulating the emotions (or ''suggesting ' them) it is therefore 
 
104 THE STYLE OE THE MUSIC-DHAMA. 
 
 admirably fitted for this subtle kind of synecdoche in which the emotional 
 effect is put for the cause or object effecting it. Moreover, all objects in 
 Wagner's Drama are motives to action, viz. dramatic — viz. they have par- 
 ticular powers, virtues, potentialities, etc. 
 
 So the 'Cup of the Holy Grail' can be presented musically in this seflse^and the 
 * spear,' which plays such an important symbolical part in Parsifal. 
 
 To observe the power of ' association ' in the Music-Drama we may refer to a case from 
 an opera. Say a musical phrase occurs to my mind which I do not recognise immediately, 
 I try to put my mind in a perfectly neutral condition, and then ' thinking of the melody ' 
 will often arouse a picture of the whole stage with the scene which was impressed on my 
 mind in connection with the given melody. 
 
 Herice we see how the 'leading-motive' may explain itself whenever it reeur* after 
 having been heard associated with some striking scene, etc. 
 
 Moreover, the 'Style ' of the Music-Drama would develope in time what is now unde- 
 veloped, — our sensitiveness to such associations — develope our sensibility to the emotional 
 suggestiveness of Music. 
 
 The musical motives of Tristan display psychic phenomena and not 
 .physical phenomena: Although a motive may be associated with some 
 tangible or physical object, yet the spirit of the motive itself is the psychic 
 effect of this object. This is the ' subjectivity ' of Wagner's motives which 
 is seemingly belied when the leading motives are named by some such 
 term as ^Vistem-motiv or Xo^e-motiv in digests or analyses of his works. 
 In all these cases the Music paints the emotion of some actor or actors irr 
 the Drama ; it does not attempt the impossible, viz. to paint concrete objects. 
 This is a point that is so often overlooked. A careful examination of 
 Tristan will show that the ' themes ' express or suggest emotions. 
 
 A theme may relate to an object and yet be varied to fit the different 
 D emotions of different situations. Thus the ' variations ' of motives are not 
 mere formal variations dictated by a ' fashion,' a tradition of composers, 
 but spring from the psychical moods themselves ; it is the change of mood 
 (sad, joyful, thoughtful, etc.) which governs or causes a variation in the 
 mood of a ' leading motive.' 
 
 Compare the striking manner in which the " churehly ' motive in Tannhauser's 
 narrative, act iii., undergoes a variation from the point — " Da jauchzt es auf in briinstigem 
 Frohlocken " to the words " Da ekelte mich der holde Sang." So compare the phases of 
 Siegfried's bugle motive — free, naive, joyful in its simple form ; solemn, sad, full of import 
 of fate in funeral march (Gotterdammerung). 
 
 This may account for the possibility of Wagner's composing so much Music. The' 
 variations were dictated by the dramatic tone of the several situations in which the par- 
 ticular theme occurred. 
 
 A very forcible change or 'variation' (Gotterdammerung, act iii. Trauermarsch) is 
 effected by taking the theme of Siegfried (played by a single horn in quick tempo) and 
 giving it a very broad, rich instrumentation (harmonisation), and reducing the tempo 
 and changing the rhythm to fit it for the changed expression. In this way themes are 
 wonderfully altered in ' narratives' to fit to the sentiments or mood of the narrator. (Cf. 
 Gotterda/mmerung, act ii sc. 2, narrative of Waltraute.) 
 
 A difficulty presents itself — how may concrete objects play a part in 
 the Music-Drama when in its nature it is not to be concrete but subjective 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 105 
 
 viz. emotional. The whole question is solved from the standpoint of 
 ' fitness.' The * stage ' as it appeals to the eye is necessarily concrete. The 
 emotional side is relegated to Music which cannot be concrete. Symbolism 
 then performs its function, in that it presents to the eye an object which is 
 symbolical of the inner emotions concerned in the drama. Such an 
 object, as a cup cannot be presented by Music, but such a ' cup ' as that 
 which is associated with the Last Supper can be presented in Music by pre- 
 senting the sentiments of which it is a mere material symbol. The Music- 
 Drama appeals therefore in the most fitting manner to the eye and the ear — 
 to the first by visible objects, to the ear by invisible Music. It works upon 
 the mind through two avenues, placing simple objects before the eye, and 
 explaining their spiritual import through the ear. If the mind is not 
 reached through the duplicate explanation it would hardly be reached by 
 any means. Everyday observation shows how inveterately the mind is 
 bound to the visually concrete, and hence how powerful an instrument C ' $ 
 symbolism is. The mind craves something material on which to mature 
 its faith. The crucifix and symbolical pictures persist long after idolatry 
 has passed away. But while in religion the device of symbolism is only a 
 bridge to the purely abstract, in Art it finds a lasting application. In this 
 it is important that the symbolism should not be purely conventional, it 
 should be as naturally evident as possible. 
 
 The musician really makes a myth of the whole of the world in that he 
 expresses all objects by their effects on the human mind. He is a real poet 
 in that he makes ' man a measure of all things.' To him objective reality 
 is nothing compared with our sensations of this objective reality — our 
 feelings in the presence of terrestrial objects, not what the things of nature 
 may be as cold objects in themselves, but what they become in that warm 
 room' of inner man. This effect of the object (sword, spear, etc.) on the 
 human being he puts for the cause, and thus employs a most effective 
 device of poets — the figure' of speech termed synecdoche. Wagner does 
 more than this. By his ' dramatic action ' he is enabled to put not only 
 the epical effect of an object but its dramatical effect — for his objects (spear, 
 ring) or attributes become real motives, and influence the higher part of 
 man's feelings — his affections. Moreover, an object may then have several 
 aspects and be so pictured by the musician, these aspects being the different 
 effects which the object has upon different minds or at different times. 
 Thus there are several 'motives' which group themselves about the 
 " ring " in the Trilogy. 
 
 The main point to grasp is that the expressive powers of Music require 
 a dramatic action for their ' style,' for in the severe dramatic action all 
 episode is excluded, and every person and every object (spear, sword, ring, 
 etc.) entering into the action becomes an ' emo^ore-excitant ' — and hence 
 may be presented musically, for this emotional effect may be put for its 
 cause according to the device of synecdoche. There are thousands of objects 
 
106 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 ia Nature which we are indifferent to, and which consequently would baffle 
 musical presentation, but in the artificially Weeded Dbama the Style 
 excludes these indifferent objects, and what objects or persons occur are 
 motivated, viz, they have their influence in shaping the course of the play; 
 and hence have an effect on the emotions of the actors which is designedly 
 great. By employing a dmmatie Style, and not the epical, the expressive 
 powers of Music are greatly enlarged* , 
 
 The potion in Tristan becomes the isymbol of irresistible love (one of 
 the chief dramatic motives of this tragedy) instead of a mere episode such 
 as a drug would be. So the Eing in Niebdungen (desire for wealth) and the 
 Cup in Parsifal (even the wound gets its symbolical meaning). Compare 
 also Spring in Walkwre and Night in Tristan. 
 
 Likewise & character motive naturally bears a relation to the role played 
 by the character in the work. Thus Wotan is 'power' or 'power of 
 justice ' both in the play and in the Music. 
 
 Isolde becomes musically ' the intensely longed for ' ; Kundry, the wild, 
 passionate, restless, untamed, &c. 
 
 As some one has remarked a propos of ' personal themes' viz. : those 
 attaching themselves to the characters ; they are not a musical ' chain and 
 balls ' which the characters are compelled to drag about with them wherevef 
 they go, announcing their advent on the stage by a rattling of their 
 shackles. Personally, I am convinced of the inexpediency of approaching 
 one of Wagner's works with the mind loaded with musical algebra in the form 
 of leading motives all cut and dried, and named and numbered and geneti- 
 cally arranged. iEsthetic enjoyment of the works as performed is very 
 liable to be thereby replaced by a sort of musical calisthenics, which, 
 pleasing as it may be, is not the pleasure intended by the composer-poet* 
 On his side, the composer should be very careful not to draw too severely 
 upon the memory of the auditor for the past occurrence of themes and their" 
 circumstances. If the recurrence of a theme calls up an image of a past 
 situation in the auditor's mind of its own accord, all right ; but there is a 
 great difference for the enjoyment of the Music-Drama between this spon- 
 taneous resurrection of images and the voluntary and conscious committing 
 to memory of musical themes and their accompanying circumstances for 
 future reference. It is not a matter of what Music can express, but of 
 what it probably will suggest under ordinary circumstances. The remin- 
 iscent function of the leading motive method of composing must be very 
 temperately exercised, it has been much praised for its ability in the 
 matter of expressing th& arriere-pensees- of the characters, but knowledge of 
 the actual and unaffected results in this use may show that very much care 
 is necessary lest the composer abuse its use,, for he is very liable not to look 
 at his total work from the standpoint of the uninitiated spectator at every 
 moment. 
 
 All of Wagner's reforms and innovations are open to abuse, and there 
 
6. INSTRUMENTAL STYLE. 107 
 
 will not be wanting in the future perhaps some Meyerbeer of the thematic 
 method who will not only out-do "Wagner but the ' audience of the future ' 
 as well. 
 
 The arriere-pensee tends to prevent the stage from displaying that 
 purely ' presentative ' character, which is emphasised by C and D. 
 
 One of the most praiseworthy movements of Wagner towards reconstruction was the B 
 exaltation of the orchestra to an importance worthy of its capabilities. The orchestra 
 had been improperly, unduly, subordinated to the human voice. A feature of the Italian 
 orchestra which becomes most cloying is the tingle-tangle accompaniment of the songs, 
 and especially the part which prepares the way for the footlight rhapsodist — tum-te-te, 
 tum-tee-tee, etc. 
 
 The orchestra accompanying the Wagnerian Dramas is endowed with all the capabilities 
 of rendering the most advanced symphonic Music. Moreover, the superiority of the 
 orchestra over the human voice in rendering absolute Music is recognised. This change 
 may be looked upon either as an exaltation of the orchestra or as the subordination of the 
 human voice ; in any case it is simply a recognition of the proper powers or capabilities Qj a 
 of the two instruments. The voice is differentiated as an organ for the conveyance of 
 the definite ideas embodied in the words of the text. 
 
108 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 7. VOCAL STYLE. 
 
 The Vocal Style is one of the most difficult parts of the Music-Drama 
 to determine. It is the meeting-point between the Music which is per force 
 idealistic and the Drama which requires the dialogue to present some of the 
 aspects of dialogue in real life. This is the crucial position. 
 
 On the one hand it may be represented by formal song, on the other by 
 speech almost. Which is most* fitted to the Style? Is there no other 
 alternative ? These are problems proposed by this section. 
 B (A) Vocal Style proscribes all those shrieks and other noises which the 
 
 naturalistic actors attempt to introduce into the performance for self- 
 laudation. They are thrillingly effective because they work upon nerves 
 rendered very sensitive by being deeply engrossed in the music, but for 
 that very reason they are inexcusable. 
 
 Tannbauser offers several opportunities of this kind which are seized upon by 
 unscrupulous singers and used with great effect, but not that effect proper to the style 
 of an art-work of which Music is an essential feature. Compare the use of firearms and 
 acting. 
 
 £ B condemns any purely conventional Style such as recitative secco, etc., 
 
 for the reasons that it lacks Beauty in itself, and that it becomes disgusting 
 
 B by its musically monotonous repetition. Moreover, conventional recitative 
 
 G 2 is condemned by G 2, and by B and G '4, since it stands too much apart 
 
 & ^ from the Style of the rest of the work. The division into 'spoken' 
 
 dialogue and ' sung ' dialogue is very little less harmonious than the severe 
 
 C 2 division into recitative and songs. We are instantly and unpleasantly 
 
 G '4 sensible of the change from the 'song' to the barren and monotonous 
 
 C 2 recitative, and vice versa. A "work thus divided lacks harmony, it lacks 
 
 Style. Further, such contrasts are inconsistent with the nature of dialogue 
 
 in general, which does not display such sudden and complete changes. 
 
 j) Even the aria itself (like the recitative) is liable to lack Beauty from the 
 
 & C 4 conventionality of its form. Not every one is pleased by the preparatory 
 
 turn — turn, turn — turn, turn — turn of the orchestra. They suggest a lack of 
 
 sincerity in their artificiality, and their cut and dried musical manner 
 
 prevents their suggesting real-felt emotion. 
 
 G2, Oj, and C 4 condemn very many important features of the 'opera 
 seria.' The unpleasant interruption of the flow of the dialogue by the 
 division into recitative and song has been already mentioned. The ' aria,' 
 the ' concerted pieces ' (formal trios, quartettes, etc.) and vocal display 
 (fioriture). These all stand apart from the Drama in such an obtrusive 
 q 2 manner that it is threatened with temporary paralysis with each 'number.' 
 & C 4. The Drama is, as it were, left behind to take care of itself, while the 
 
7. VOCAL STYLE. 109. 
 
 actors (temporarily become singers) display their respective talents to 
 the audience over the footlights. The obtrusive display of vocal execution 
 (as that of the prima donna, for instance) is the most reprehensible feature C 2 
 of an Opera which pretends to dramatic seriousness, for it not only com- 
 pletely interrupts the progress of the Drama, by prostituting the spectator's 
 attention, but it stamps the actor with utter insincerity. To any one who 
 has feeling for serious Drama, such a complete revelation of insincerity is 
 abominable. The capers of a ' ballet ' in the middle of a church scene are 
 not more sacrilegious than this taking in vain of our sympathies, aroused 
 at the sorrow or anguish of a character. It is all the more heartless from q 2 
 the dry and conventional musical nature of the ' runs ' and ' shakes ' C4. 
 in which the hero or heroine indulges. The same holds of repetition and 
 chopping up of words and phrases. 
 
 This applies particularly to Operas, many of which aggravate the 
 insincerity by the fact that they propose the outer aspects of our every- 
 day life, and not an idealistic setting. Nothing, to my mind, so strongly 
 indicates the essential connection possible between Music and feelings as 
 its capacity for affecting us as intensely insincere. 
 
 Fioriture was so palpably false to many dramatic situations — that is, it E 
 immediately suggested to the mind a display of vocal expertness, instead . 
 of expression of feeling. In it, the human voice is forced in a direction 
 which is unnatural to it, for the voice is not an instrument which most 
 naturally takes to rapidity and difficulty of execution — its physical mode 
 of producing the notes is not like the keyed piano, each tone has to be 
 made (formed), not simply blown or struck. The truest field and situation 
 for the voice is the expression of emotions, since the voice is employed for 
 that naturally, and it has the character of belonging to a human being 
 more than any instrument. The voice essentially belongs to a human 
 being. Fioriture springs from an impulse directly opposed to deep feeling 
 — the impulse to gain applause by the display of clever management of 
 voice. It may not be beautiful even, it need only call forth wonderment. 
 Thus we recognise the ' reason ' why vocal display makes itself so instantly 
 felt as insincere where it proposes to express deep feeling. 
 
 It may be reasonably doubted if a composer shows feeling for the G/j. 
 voice, as a musical instrument, in proposing such rapid passages for execu- " 3 a 
 tion. The equation between an instrument and what it plays generally 
 requires that the Music should be that kind most peculiar to the particular 
 kind of instrument, and that which can be performed with moderate dif- 
 ficulty. Now, rapid passages are not peculiar to the voice — so far as 
 rapidity is concerned it is excelled by several instruments. Nor is execu- 
 tion easily attained in the case of the voice. Years of hard training axe 
 required to press the voice in a direction for which its organ is not fitted. 
 The type of instfument pre-eminently fitted for display of execution is 
 the piano, with its ' wire to each note/ and a key-board worthy of the 
 
110 r THE STYLE, OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 rapid typewriter. However, we do not need to cite ' reason * to define ther 
 nature of the piano. The same thing is shown by the style of the com- 
 
 ■: positions for the. instrument as dictated by artistic feeling. The ' cadenza * 
 points to the ' professional ' scope allowed. A striking confirmation of the 
 faet that display of expressive ability is inconsistent with sincere feeling, 
 is given by the instinctive repugnance we feel towards vocal display in 
 
 C4. musio fitted to the saoredness of the church service. (Cf. a rendering of 
 the 'Creed,' by a church ehoir,. with elaborate musical ornamentation, 
 interruptions, repetitions, etc;) 
 
 ]y Dance rhythm is a wholly foreign feature when tacked on to the Music- 
 
 Drama for arias, etc. A " waltz song ' can hardly be emotional. In Operas 
 its use often suggests frivolity. 
 
 Wagner was fortunate ii* his. talent for inventing an original form of musical declama- 
 tion, for only by this means could he get free from the modern world of Music as he had- 
 A. gotten free of the modern world of appearance by his recourse to the myth. In other 
 words, Wagner was forced to an ' ideal " dramatic world in myth, to- get away from modern 
 aspects of life, and he was also obliged to invent a new Style of musical diction in order to 
 free his Music from the modern taints of the 'Opera ' Style which would have degraded his 
 otherwise ' ideal' Dramas to the level of the reaj. We can hardly conceive how ordinary 
 and un-ideal Eheingold or Siegfried would be if the musical style did not differ from that 
 of Traviata, or Borneo and Juliet. 
 
 One of the respects in which Lohemgriw, is. most admirable is that Wagner put life and 
 beauty veto the recitative by his, rich orchestral- accompaniment. He took the orchestral 
 Music in its developed form due to its. independent, development after differentiating itself 
 from vocal Music; and with this independent orchestra he reformed a dry Art — he made 
 dry recitative forcible^ interesting, and beautiful. 
 
 (Of. "Vocalstraageoess of Erda^Sideclamatory recitative ; not monotonous, like 'melodic 1 
 dialogue. A broad; style, pervades the. whole as. contrasted with the thinness of ' one line ' 
 Music.) 
 E The vocal style of Wagner's works may be viewed as the necessary outcome of the 
 
 intention to make a Drama of maximum expressiveness and beauty. 
 
 A form of vocal recitative was needed which would not compel the grand ' instrumental ' 
 
 organism to meekly and rapidly follow gome singer's voice., The vocal part could not take. 
 
 C J an independent courseand compel the orchestra to adapt.itself to,its course. For the force and 
 
 un jty of instrumental Music it was necessary that it should flow in its full,, broad, stream with 
 
 the power of a symphony-, as if displaying- the human character which underlies expression; 
 
 Already in Lohengrin we see a very remarkabla differentiation- of the vocal parts froni 
 the orchestra. The two elements, are entwined, but eaeh is independent. This is 
 important in connection, with Wagner's later development of the orchestra as an expression 
 of the emotions concerned, so that the melody is. completely transferred to the orchestra, 
 and' the voice sings notes which are exceedingly- effective in connection with the orchestra, 
 but completely lack that.d'ependent, sequence, which is termed voeal melody. It is wholly 
 unfit, that two. such different ' organa' (instruments) as the human voice and the orchestra: 
 should be compelled. to r follow one single track.. 
 
 The vocal style of the Opera maybe viewed as an outcome of the accompaniment of the 
 voice by a single instrument (like the harp, or the spinet, cf. Bach's recitative)', so that after 
 the orchestra had expanded itself it was still shunted' into the position of aJltorj) or guitar- 
 witlj reference-, tar the v,oic$. 
 
 The v.ocal dialogue, of. Wagner's mature r (later), works, is marked, musically, by th<h 
 absenqe of that rhythm and progression by formal intervals which characterise an-operaf 
 style. It is not necessary to. give instances — in- fact; it is probable that very much of the' 
 
7. VOCAL STYLE. Ill 
 
 aforetime ayevqiQn to ■Winer's wotfcg arose from the failure of the vocsl part to gaflsfy 
 th.at 'ex^ectaflcy ' fortped hy familiarity, with opejjatift ipelody. 
 
 . The foregoing introduces us to. the dramatic fault, of 'recitative,' q * 
 tjxe arjia, arid forrnal concerted pieces \ it is not only that the recitative D 
 is. so tirespmely conventional that it carj never seem sincere and expressive 
 of emotion, hut, ajsp. the very fact, that the introduction of such features 
 as,. ' arias,' duets., etc,, in an opera, has, become s,uch a conventional (com- 
 mercial) process, that they are felt to he, musical ' pieces ' (divisions), rather 
 thari outpourings of the emotipns. "We seem to feel that the introduction 
 of an aria or concerted piece marks one of those, regular opportunities, 
 which the musician seizes, to assert his absolute despotism and force, all 
 feeling and dramatic action off the stage, until he has exhausted his. lyrical 
 resources, and then retires with a flourish to his refuge of reeitati^ It 
 ma^es no difference how beautiful an ' aria ' or duet may be, so long as, it 
 is, felt, tg be an qria-, ox dwh h it. cannot, appear as an expression of the E 
 emotions of the character or characters, before us., ' Composition,' felt as 
 such by the hearer, suggests a 'composer' and makes the actor a, 'singer-' 
 of it.. That we may intensely believe in the emotions, of a. character, 
 requires that her vocal utterances should seem to be directly impelled 
 from her by her emotions, and not that they are. compositions which she. 
 has merely learned to repeat., Here we get a clear insight intq the lack 
 of feeling which anything conventional (like, recitative) suggests ; it is. 
 because, in being conventional, it Qannot s^rin^ from, the perso^aj, emotion C 4. 
 of the spngety its, origin is extpfwl to the singer.. Now the aria, duet, etc*,, 
 are conventional features which have their place, in the, realm of indepen- 
 dent music, and hence are related to, the personal emotions, of the char 
 rasters as the cold formalities of etiquette are related to our real feelings., 
 Just as the naturalistic Drama, formulated by unmusical dramatists, was, 
 forced upon Music, by the librettos-makers, so the, formalities! of absolute 
 music haye been fpreed on Drama, by musical specialists.. 
 
 This leads us to the consideration of the impprtance of the words. E 
 in the Music ^Drama; (cf. G). In the ' Opera,' the dramatic; element, was 
 sp, often subordinated tp the Music, that it did not. matte? much whether 
 the words, were understood, or npt. This, wasr naively shown ™ the rapturous, 
 way iu which operas aung in Italian were applauded by pers/ms, tp whom 
 Italian was a closed letter-. 
 
 The pursuit of dramatic force in the, Music-Djama requires, that the . 
 text should be, of impprtance,, and hence the, understanding of the, words. B 
 important fpr the audience. This means that, distinctness pf enunciation Gz 
 raus,t mark, t&e, vocal style of the Music-Draina, The, words, are not (as C4. 
 pftefl, w, the. Opera, an,d spngs) mere vexatipus. obstacles, tp the, composer, & D 
 Which might, pardonably be replaced by do, re y mi,, so far as the audience is. C4. 
 concerned. 
 
112 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 The composer should be able to fuse words and music together, and 
 the singer should be able to make his audience appreciate his words as 
 well as enjoy his tones. A style of vocal declamation is required which 
 needs practice as conscientious as that devoted to the * runs ' and ' shakes ' 
 of the operatic school. To be assured of this, one has only to listen to 
 mediocre performances of Wagner's works ; the words of whole portions 
 
 C2 are indistinguishable, and the effort required often causes the hearer to 
 give up trying to understand and devote his attention to the Music alone. 
 
 Cj Or he may hear the opposite fault of a singer who declaims (often shrieks) 
 the sentences, and leaves the tones and rhythm, and harmony of orchestra 
 to the hearer to decipher. The art of musical declamation is not to be 
 learned in a day. Conscientious training of the vocal organs is required, 
 and how much grander the end is than that of the mere display of skill 
 in rendering passages of doubtful sweetness, with the aid of some vowel- 
 Cja sound merely. The beautiful feature of the human voice, which places 
 it above any speechless instrument of the orchestra, is that it is capable, 
 not only of pleasant tones, but also of living speech. (A school is needed, 
 cf. Baireuth, p. 142.) 
 
 E The composer will cultivate a sensitiveness to those modes of passion- 
 
 ate and tender expression that ordinary life displays, and will embody the 
 results in his vocal declamation. It will no longer be considered as all 
 sufficient for the Music-Drama to be able to compose a smooth-running 
 melody for the human voice. In connection with this possible develop- 
 ment of a style of musical dialogue, it is interesting to read an essay 
 by Herbert Spencer, " The Function of Music," of which the following 
 sentences bear more or less upon the foregoing. " Vocal sounds are pro- 
 duced by the agency of certain muscles. . . . The muscles in common 
 with the body at large are excited to contraction by pleasurable and pain- 
 ful feelings, and therefore it is that feelings demonstrate themselves in ' 
 sounds as well as in movements. . . . Variations of voice are the physio- 
 logical results of variations of feelings, loudness, quality or timbre, pitch, 
 intervals and rate of variation." The following also : " Musical genius is 
 shown in achieving the decorative Beauty without losing the beauty of 
 emotional meaning " (cf. p. 39). Just as the actor observes the various 
 bodily effects of the feelings and applies that knowledge, so the composer 
 of the Music-Drama might attain a much higher agreement between 
 Music and feelings by a sensitiveness to the way in which the voice is 
 affected by the feelings in everyday life, and apply this to his composing, 
 but from a musical standpoint always, of course. It has even been sug- 
 gested that much of instrumental music is but the sublimation of those 
 audible modes of expressing the emotions that have become unconsciously 
 registered upon the mind during its long converse with the environment 
 in the past. However this may be, it is undoubtedly true that musicians ' 
 have invented some quite remarkable ways of suggesting modes of feeling, ' 
 
7. VOCAL STYLE. . 11* 
 
 and it is -hardly reasonable to suppose that the past victories in this matter 
 have exhausted the field. It is conceivable that a much finer sense of 
 musical expression might become developed. 
 
 The vocal declamation of Wagner's style does not require such rapidity of rhythm as 
 those operas which are founded on strict melody and fioritwre effects, but it does require 
 the accuracy of tone, for in the 'enharmonic' progression of Wagner's instrumental style 
 the progressions are frequently very subtle, and hence require the greatest care in their 
 rendering, lest the effect be muddly or clouded. A false vocal tone can ' cloud ' a whole 
 progression. 
 
 The singer must remember that the Music-Drama is musical before all,, 
 although not in the narrow sense of commonplace vocal melody. He may 
 not tamper with the music as he might with the enunciation of phrases in 
 the spoken Drama. Vocal dialogue may be said to be more 'oiligato' than 
 spoken dialogue : it may not be hurried and retarded at will, nor can the 
 pitch be capriciously chosen. The rhythmical beat of the orchestra is Oj 
 inexorable, and a false vocal tone may ruin several ' chords.' The difference 
 between the Style of the Music-Drama and. the Drama may be said to 
 consist in the measured character of the former as compared with the latter. 
 The music marches along with a tread which pervades every part — vocal 
 music, action, acting, all is * obligato.' ' Interpretation ' in the sense of 
 meddling with the tempo, and rhythm, and pitch on the part of the singer, 
 is out of the question in the Music-Drama. The singer cannot, like the 
 actor, allow himself to be * carried away ' by his feelings ; many singers of 
 Wagner's works do so, some for the renomme which such a display of 
 'dramatic feeling' evokes from the audience, others merely because they 
 have not grasped the ' measured ' style which the Music-Drama should 
 display, and hence attempt to vie with the actor in a play, forgetting that 
 the superiority of the Music-Drama lies in its musical and statuesque 
 character, not in coarse dramatic realism. 
 
 First musical, and then dramatic. This should be the rule for 
 rendition, however much the rule may be reversed in the acquisition of the 
 vocal part. 
 
 Music is either pleasing or it is exasperating. A • chord ' is either a 
 ' chord,' or it is not pleasing ; even a ' discord ' must be a particular and -B 
 distinct * discord ' or it will not make the impression it should. Strangely 
 enough, this is often not felt by orchestras even, which will take great 
 care in intonation with respect to chords, but act very carelessly in the 
 rendering of discords. I have heard many performances of some of 
 Wagner's works, in which neither could the words of certain singers be 
 understood, nor was the intonation tolerable. No wonder Wagner has 
 gotten a very bad name. 
 
 For twenty who can perform a tune over the footlights, there is not one 
 that can carry out the scene of the announcement of death to Siegmund by 
 Branhilde with the perfect repose befitting the solemn occasion, and with 
 
 i 
 
114 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 the vocal smoothness and perfect intonation necessary to the musical side' 
 of the scene. It is amazing how many sing ' by note ' without any feeling 
 whatever for the harmony of which their own tones form a part, and that 
 for weal or woe. I have had occasion at times to be most indignant at the 
 carelessness of singers in this respect in spoiling the calm beauty and 
 solemnity of the above scene. All tends to show that the requirement^ 
 for singers participating in the Music-Drama should be much higher than 
 for the average opera in the matter of feeling for harmony. 
 
 There are many singers who can carry out a tune with security, and yet 
 fail when it becomes a matter of taking a series of notes forming part of a 
 series of harmonic changes. The trouble is that in singing, the human 
 voice has to form, its own tones, not simply to press a key as in the case of 
 many instruments. Hence, what is needed is an ear keenly sensitive to 
 harmony and a corresponding delicacy in the formation of vocal tones. A 
 singer who is oblivious to the fact that he is flatting or sharping, is worse 
 than useless for the purposes of the Music-Drama. A singer ought to 
 feel, not only the tone he is singing, but also the chord of which it is a 
 part and the harmonic progressions of which the chords are a part. 
 Cj The subordination of the vocal part is a part of functional differentiation 
 of the various parts of the Music-Drama. 
 
 The orchestra is superior to the voice in the rendition of pure Music of 
 
 all kinds. On the other hand, the human voice can do what the orchestra 
 
 D cannot— convey definite ideas through language. The orchestra, therefore, 
 
 Cz i s most properly relegated to the function of presenting the musical part ;, 
 
 C 3 a the voice to the presentation of the dialogue. This relation between voice: 
 
 and orchestra is the very opposite of that in the Opera, where the voice 
 
 posed as the carrier of the musical part, and the orchestra sank to a mere 
 
 accompaniment. Under such circumstances the orchestra could hardly 
 
 perform its function of emotion-suggestant. (Cf. the great advance in the 
 
 capabilities of the orchestra, Mozart, Beethoven, etc.) 
 
 Wagner's orchestral Style is one highly differentiated from a vocal Style. 
 
 The traditional 'vocal ' periods linger long, in, the Art— a hroad, deep Style such as 
 was possible with highly-developed instruments, waited long for recognition, . 
 (j z Formal vocal melody calls too much attention to itself, and hence violently interrupts 
 
 the progress of the drama. The aria also is inconsistent with the expression of the emo- 
 jj tions ; it is too uniform in movement and harmonic progression, too unimpulsive, too 
 formal, especially in connection with its musical and literary ? repetitions' Musically the 
 aria solicits attention to its musical form. 
 
 In Wagner's later works attention must be directed to the orchestral music and less to 
 the mere vocal melody. Listening has to be practised a little in order to get rid of that 
 artificial mode of listening to the vocal part only which has become natural to us from: 
 a long converse with the Opera. It will often be found that persons who do not enjoy 
 Wagner's Music do not enjoy Beethoven's either. A good training for getting rid of the 
 above-mentioned vice of listening to the voice only, is to hear Beethoven's symphonies 
 frequently and seriously. 
 
 Wagner is strictly lyrical when the occasion calls for it. Of. the play of emotions 
 attending the meeting of Tristan and Isolde, and idhengrin, act iii. sc. 2. The mood of 
 
7. VOCAL STYLE. Jl§ 
 
 love is such as to make 'songs ' natural, but hatred and thirst for gold are brooding moods 
 which are best worked out in sober recitative. 
 
 There is nothing which proscribes a ' song' if the occasion, viz. .' situation.'.calls for it. 
 Cf.- Mime's 'Lullaby' song and the 'Schmiede' song of Siegfried j Chorus in Temple in 
 Parsifal ; Tannhauser, ii. 3 ; Meistersingw^ 
 
 Take the love-duet in Tristan for instance. If the whole scene be ideal 
 and does not suggest the outer aspects of everyday life, much liberty can 
 be taken with the Style of the Music as regards concerted vocal Music. 
 This point I have frequently referred to, and deem very important. 
 
 The fault of the Opera (cf: Traviata) was not that chorus and duets 
 occurred so much, as that they did not occur in situations which called for 
 them, or in a musical style that was consistent, and above all they were 
 inconsistent with the naturalistic situations proposed. Compare the chorus 
 (as viewed) in Parsifal and Traviata respectively. A chorus of gentlemen 
 in dress suits in a dramatic situation is the height of stylistic absurdity. 
 
 So long as the conditions demanded by A and B are satisfied, the chorus 
 and duet are not necessarily subversive of the Style of the Music-Drama. 
 But if these are not fulfilled, and if the chorus does not coincide with the 
 expression of a general emotion felt, but seeks to give information (cf. Otello, 
 Verdi, iii. 2) in which the words ought to be understood, but cannot be 
 (contrast the conditions in the chorus scenes in Parsifal), the situation is 
 not a lyrical one and concerted music is not demanded. The fault of the duet G4. 
 in the Opera often was not that it was a duet, but that whereas the situation 
 called for an expression of pure and sincere emotions, the music of the duet 
 .suggested the utter prostitution of the feelings to the desire to display 
 dexterity of throat This is an important point, and should be carefully 
 verified by the reader from auditions of various works. It was the heart- 
 hypocrisy of the music in connection with a situation of pure feeling (love- 
 duet) that disgusted so thoroughly. In Verdi's Otello, though it does not 
 fully satisfy the conditions A and B, there is nevertheless nothing 
 repulsive about the love scene and its duet with which the first act closes. 
 But cause Othello and Desdemona to indulge in conventional vocal flourishes 
 for pure display, and the whole scene would become heartless in its lack of 
 sincerity of expression. (Cf. Tristan, ii. 2, ' guek hernieder,' etc.) 
 
 Warner's vocal style is characterised by an effectiveness in the choice of the notes of Cj 
 the singer in respect to tbe symphony which the orchestra is executing at the same time. 
 The ' narrative ' of Tannhauser contains many instances of wonderfully chosen notes for 
 the voice as related to the orchestral part. The voice accentuates and clarifies the changes 
 of chords of the orchestra by taking the most peculiar notes of the chord with relation to 
 the chord just left. So the intervals in Ortrud's part, Lohengrin, ii. 1. 
 
 There is an advantage gained by renouncing formal melody for the 
 voice, and thereby gaining originality without effort, for by scoring the 
 voice with the same freedom as one would the horn or any other instru- 
 ment, a very large choice of notes is allowed, determined only by the 
 
 1 2 
 
U6 THE STYLE OF THE MUSlC-DKAMA. 
 
 harmony. Wagner thus greatly broadened the field of lyric expression 
 both musically and dramatically. It really opens up a new road in com- 
 position for the voice. Notice the beauty of the vocal recitative in some 
 parts, and its sturdy force in other parts. This vocal style is new and 
 startling in its effects. (Cf. the parts of the three Fates, Gotterdammerung, 
 i. 1, and that of Hagen-Gutrune for the extreme beauty and freshness of a 
 musical score (partitur) founded on the interweaving of themes, instead of 
 successive songs.) 
 
 ri ? Wagner's works call, for a real musical taste in rendition, not for mere vocal dexterity, 
 
 but a feeling for accurate intonation and precise rhythm. The subtle changes of key 
 require the greatest care on the part of the singer lest their effect be completely ruined by 
 
 Q i the flatting or sharping of a note, especially as the voice is no longer the ruler of the 
 orchestra, and the vocal melody no longer a mere catchy phrase. (Cf. waltz songs.) 
 While the Wagnerian style calls for less fioriture, it calls for a higher musical capacity in 
 grasping the harmonic progressions, and in recalling the vocal part (including words). 
 
 Cj The importance of rhythm results from the important position of the orchestra ; it being 
 no longer a threadbare turn, turn, turn, any discrepancy between the voice and the 
 orchestra tends to ruin the effect of both. It is no longer so easy to keep voice and 
 orchestra together, or rather it is more disastrous if they do not keep together. The 
 guitar-like thrumming of the old orchestra was so insignificant beside the display of talents 
 by the prima donna, that it did not matter so much if both were not engaged with the same 
 bar at the same time. Moreover, a little acceleration or retardation of the thrumming was 
 easily managed. In Wagner's vocal style rhythmical disagreement between voice and 
 
 @3 orchestra means also harmonic disagreement. Resolutions (of one chord into another) occur 
 which are so subtle and out of the ordinary as to be completely ruined by any insecurity 
 or wavering in voice or orchestra. 
 
 There are three reasons why the vocal declamation should express the 
 C2 present emotions of the singer ; in case he relates anything, he suggests the 
 E inconsistency of employing song rather than speech ; in 'relating' any- 
 thing, he calls for too much intellectual work on the part of the spectator 
 Of. already absorbed by the vocal and instrumental Music; vocal Music is 
 Sttua- a i wa y S unnatural unless it be related to the singer as the expression of his 
 immediate emotions. Even in a play, we sometimes feel the unnatural- 
 ness of the initiatory by-figures (the servant, valet, or the maid) whose 
 function it is to inform us of the status of affairs up to the opening of the 
 drama. We also have the same feeling- — that the speaker is talking to us 
 — when an actor soliloquises some unemotional remark over the footlights. 
 An unemotional soliloquy in recitative savours of the ridiculous — we feel 
 how utterly de trop the Music is, how foreign to the situation, how easily 
 A it might be dispensed with to the betterment of the situation. 
 
 Hon 
 
8. ACTING (STYLE OF). 117 
 
 8. ACTING (STYLE OF). 
 
 This is an important factor in compelling the spectator to feel what the 
 Style of the Music-Drama is, by making him feel what it proposes to be 
 and what it does not propose to be. 
 
 It in itself largely stamps the Music-Drama as different from the thril- 
 ling 'Melodrama/ seemingly so victorious on the modern stage. The 
 acting is one of the most unique features of the Style, and since it appeals 
 directly to the eye is likely to impress the average spectator from the very 
 beginning. He will be likely to miss that rushing about the stage and 
 nervous inability to stand still and wait which he himself experiences 
 in his anxiety for ' something to happen.' He (or she) is liable to be entirely 
 oblivious to the fact that something is happening in the orchestra every 
 moment which he (or she) might enjoy, but for this modern expectancy, 
 this nervous craving for the death of some one or other of the personse 
 either by natural catastrophe or premeditated design. The Drama tends 
 to overlap (see p. 87) the Music-Drama both in the case of the spectators 
 and of the actors who seem to have an ' expectancy ' established in them 
 for being required to do something which leads them to look embarrassed 
 when not actively engaged in manslaughter, and to over-do it when they are. 
 It is strange that people who are quite, contented to sit quietly and enjoy 
 a symphony, will complain of a lack of something to occupy the mind 
 when the whole apparatus of the stage, scenic, histrionic, and literary, is 
 added to the symphony. It seems to indicate that the most vivid point of 
 departure of the Music-Drama and independent Drama is in the Style of 
 the acting. 
 
 In this connection it is interesting to note what stress Wagner (in his 
 theoretical writings) lays upon the ' dance,' by which he understands 
 gesture in general, including facial expression, and with ancient Greece 
 always in sight. The reader may find it worth while to attempt to form a 
 vivid conception of the ' dance ' among the ancient Greeks, and to contrast it 
 with a modern dance such as the waltz. 
 
 It is not only that the movements of the two would appear very 
 different to a spectator : it is that the spirit in which they are performed 
 is quite different. The application to the Music-Drama is that it should 
 approximate in its spirit more to our idea of the ancient dance, with its 
 slow measured movement than to the waltz with its giddy restlessness and 
 element of sex. This may serve to make clear what is meant by the 
 general tempo of the Music-Drama as contrasted with the sensational 
 Melodrama or the acrobatic performances of the ballet. Observe the figures 
 of Greek Sculpture, especially those that are not ' doing anything.' 
 
 Repose, The tempo of the Music-Drama is much slower than that of -A B 
 
118 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC.-DKAMA. 
 
 the independent Drama. It partakes of the measured character of the 
 Music which makes the influence of its presence felt on all the other 
 factors of the Music Dramas. Instead of rapid speech we have (compara- 
 tively) slow recitative — all is extended, — there is no attempt at hurry — the 
 pace of the acting must be rather a dignified walk than a race for life. The 
 canon of Beauty prescribes Beauty of action as well as of position, and the 
 actions will be far more measured than the same actions would be in every- 
 .. day life, where no audience is to have its sense of Beauty satisfied. The 
 Style of the acting will not be exactly natural — it will be artificial in that 
 it will be more beautiful (grace- and repose-ful) than the corresponding 
 1 actions in everyday life. The object of the Music-Drama is not to show 
 us everyday life, but to show us something as beautiful as the artist can 
 conceive and execute inside the limits of the Art. A, B, and C all pre- 
 scribe this. Here, again, the reader must be referred to Sculpture, in order 
 to get an idea of the spirit of the proper Style of acting in the Music-Drama. 
 The Music-Drama does not call for such subtle, complex, or minute 
 employment of mimic as independent Drama. 
 
 CI Facial expression, when too much resorted to for effect, is liable to 
 
 become unduly subtle, and to encourage the use of the opera-glass for 
 its detailed divination; against this see protest, p. 132. Gesture is a 
 much broader means of expression, where the mind of the observer is 
 assailed by a multiplicity of stimuli. 
 
 From this it will be seen that the Music-Drama ought to be conceived 
 ab initio, not only in a pictorial spirit but also in a sculpturesque spirit. 
 This in itself precludes any naturalistic conception. We see here again 
 that the fault of the Opera was not in its being * artificial,' but rather in 
 
 y its not being artificial enough. While very artificial in some respects, it 
 „ was not artificial in all respects, and the lack of unity between the two 
 • features was very distressing. At the same time that the Opera disclosed 
 the highly artificial situation of musical dialogue, it posed as an imitation 
 of the outer aspects of our everyday life, and attempted to work the same 
 thrilling effect that a play of a naturalistic nature would work. The point 
 to be grasped is that just as long as the proposal is " to be naturalistic," 
 just so long will the critical faculties condemn any definite pursuit of the 
 beautiful in acting or other features. One familiar with 'Opera' perform- 
 ances will recall instances. (A) proscribes the uneasy style of acting 
 which is imitated from our nervous life, and (with B) prescribes acting 
 which is replete with repose. Slow movements, executed so that every 
 part of the movement will appear pleasing, nobler, and less violent. Of 
 course this does not refer to the postures and movements of characters 
 not designed to be dignified or beautiful. Cf. Alberich and Mime. 
 
 The toga, and not the business man's 'sack' coat, should determine 
 the action. Nervous, exaggerated acting is out of place. (B) prescribes 
 a style which is more beautiful than that we see in everyday life or in 
 
8. ACTING (STYLE OF). 119 
 
 ' Dramas which aim to imitate that life. There should be an intentional A 
 striving on the part of the actor to make his postures and actions as beau- & 
 tiful to the eye as possible — he should put himself in the posture of a B 
 living statue, and seek to make every aspect of himself sculpturesque. 
 Flightiness is not consistent {repose). Melodrama is not fitting. 
 
 The reasons why the acting can thus differ from that of the recited 
 Drama are these : — (1) Music-Drama does not propose to imitate actions 
 of everyday life ; (2) Music-Drama does not strive to attain the sole effect of 
 the dramatic thrill ; (3) Music requires attention for its enjoyment, there- 
 fore the acting should not be so conspicuous as to monopolise attention; 
 (4) Music being present serves to occupy the mind much of the time that 
 would have to be spent in doing something in the recited Drama ; (5) all 
 is more measured in Music-Drama (cf. Musical Dialogue as contrasted 
 with speech in matter of rapidity). In fact, the dignity of carriage and 
 repose, and beauty of action may require a school of training quite as 
 well as the vocal style, and is likely to be a revelation to one seeing it for 
 the first time. Singers are very likely to fall into the style of acting of 
 the ordinary stage, and very frequently act without any repose whatever. 
 This is probably partly due to their not being ' old hands ' at acting, and 
 consequently lacking in coolness and, perhaps, also because having a 
 much greater task than the ordinary tragedian, they suffer from the mo- 
 mentary excitement arising from the task of remembering, and are easily 
 ' carried away ' by the intensity of the musical expression. It is probably 
 in the acting more than anything, that the Music-Drama departs from 
 that which we associate with 'romantic' There is no call for allowing 
 the Music-Drama to relapse into the weak sentimental any more than into 
 the excitable. It was fortunate for Wagner's reform movement that the 
 Scandinavian myths suggested a sturdy type of character, and that the 
 action in his works is often in the hands of the gods, with whom we 
 naturally associate a 'measured' movement and mind. 
 
 Wagner's ' lengths.' When the intervals are as long as they are in Bayreuth, and 
 when the declamation can be understood as it is there, there is not so much reason for 
 complaining. We attempt to hear his works under wrong conditions. Just as Wagner 
 shows his comprehension of the qualities of the human senses in his mixture of the less 
 .pleasing music with the more pleasing, so that the senses may not become palled with an 
 over-amount of sweetness, so Wagner is able as a poet to sustain his motive, and open new 
 paths of fresh beauty, which are both charming in themselves and effective in respect to 
 the Drama of which they are a part. If a conception be really beautiful, there is no use in 
 curtailing its poetical treatment; out of deference to the barbarous desires of tradespeople to 
 ' get thro" ' with it quickly. The rushing atmosphere of modern life is sadly destructive of 
 aesthetic mood. 
 
 Scenes of such length as those which occur in Wagner's works would be impossible in 
 ^Drama without Music. However, such expatiations of a situation should not be subtly 
 complex, or irrelevant, or mere display. 
 
 There is a slow statuesque form of acting which is fitted to the Music-Drama, in which 
 the music prevents any gaps in the action (the last scene of Siegfried, for example), and 
 this must be practised. The actor must neither look embarrassed nor raging. 
 
120 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 From the difficulties experienced it would seem to be one of the most' difficult things 
 for a singer to plant himself firmly upon his legs and stand still without looking at some- 
 one in the audience, or .looking as if he felt the presence of the audience. The manly and 
 yet modest way in which Parsifal can simply stand for three-quarters of an hour with his 
 back to the audience, and not seeking to attract attention to himself from the great 
 spectacle before us, or the music about us, ought to be a profound lesson to the participant 
 in a Music-Drama. An orator may often employ gesture very continuously and effectively 
 while speaking, and yet avoid much of the violent gesticulation of the demagogue. A 
 preacher may enforce his remarks with a measured gesture that will not be derogatory to 
 the solemnity and dignity of the altar. It is remarkable how effectively the hands and 
 full arms may be used without the body departing from an erect, manly position, with the 
 head thrown back. A great deal of practice is required by the singer to find those postures 
 which can he persisted in with ease. Many actors (probably with the idea of dramatic 
 intensity) force their position — viz. do not allow their muscles to speak for themselves. 
 The implications of gracefulness of movement and repose of posture are very intimately 
 implicated with ease of movement and the minimum expenditure of energy (cf. H. Spencer, 
 Essay on Gracefulness). For the singer participating in the Music-Drama, this is of the 
 highest importance, for upon posture depends voice aDd clear declamation and strict 
 economy of energy. Acting is quite a different problem from play-acting. The voice is 
 extremely dependent upon the proper freedom of the lungs (see accurate intonation, 
 part 7, p. 114), upon the calmness of mind and upon concentration of energy. 
 
 We are all familiar with the disastrous effects upon the voice of excitement and dis- 
 traction of attention in the case of amateurs in simple concert performances even. When 
 one considers the colossal task before the singer-actor in employing all his or her means of 
 expression with perfect unity ((72) and musical exactitude (C3) for such a work as 
 Tristan or Parsifal, we can realise what training is necessary and what persistence. It is 
 not a matter of a few years' play. 
 
 (Cf. the great danger in the actor calling attention to himself, derogatory to his part of 
 ' character ' in a Drama, by singing and acting too much towards the audience — the player 
 must not act to the audience — this immediately separates him from the stage and from the 
 Drama. This was one of the most disgusting of the foot-light practices of prima donnas, 
 <fec. It is perhaps the most vivid way by which they suggested insincerity (C4). It is 
 one of the most noticeable features of Operas, where the ' situation ' often encourages it by 
 prescribing a musical soliloquy. That it is not solely due to the dramatic exigencies is 
 shown by the fact that actors in spoken Drama are often addicted to this orientation of 
 their expression when the few words they have to say might be easily understood if spoken 
 loud enough (about as loud as the ' asides ' are spoken for instance). Further, because 
 they are for ever silently acting towards the audience, so that it is not a question of the 
 audience hearing them. 
 
 The stage seems to generate a sort of professional Self-consciousneSs, which often 
 seriously detracts from the merits of the work given. As regards the Music-Drama, it is 
 not so much a matter of lack of naturalism, or affectation, as it is a distracting feature (0 2), 
 and liable to suggest insincerity (C $) and 'lack of emotion (2)). Cf. the effect of con- 
 ventional recitative (p. 109). Cf. also the manneristic way in which operatic singers often 
 bring their stage practices of singing over the footrlights, and tragical acting and expression 
 into the Concert Hall even. Here is another case of overlapping of Arts and expectancy. 
 There is seldom any call for acting on the concert platform. We should hardly expect the 
 leader of an orchestra to attempt to act out an excerpt from an Opera which he might bfe 
 directing in a concert. 
 
 The acting -which is a part of the Music-Drama may differ greatly 
 from the pantomime which accompanies a recited drama. Music is a very 
 wonderful means of giving a real soul to actions by its power of suggesting 
 the presence of emotions underlying the spontaneous actions. Music can 
 
8. ACTING (STYLE OF). 121 
 
 enliven pure pantomime through intervals which would he unbearably 
 long if occurring in a spoken drama. To a certain extent Music can 
 forcibly suggest the state of mind out of which an act springs. But a 
 necessary feature is that the acting must agree with the state of mind 
 presumably causing it — the emotions as dictated by words, stage direc- 
 tions, and Music. (C 2). So little care is ordinarily taken in this respect 
 on the stage. The careless traditions of Opera and its senseless mannerisms 
 still cling to prima donnas as well as ' supers.' Contrast the obligate act- 
 ing noted in full by Wagner, not as in Operas left to the caprice of the 
 actor or to tradition. 
 
 (0 2) proscribes any irrelevant actions, and with (D) prescribes that G 2, 
 every action should stand in a distinct relation to the 'situation' (Cj, @3> 
 Gja). There is often a tendency to act too much as well as too intensely. -if 1 ' 
 There should be no distracting ' fidgeting.' (C 2) proscribes any 
 action which is not fitted to the emotion which it is its function to 
 express. 
 
 (E and D) prescribe a constant endeavour on the part of the actor to 
 act as much (viz. as continuously) as is consistent with the repose or 
 sculpturesque style prescribed by (A), and as is allowed by (0 2). 
 
 Here is probably a critical point where artistic feeling will be necessary 
 to perfect performance. If possible, the stage directions by the composer 
 should be as detailed and definite as possible. The style of acting re- 
 quired for the Music-Drama is one which an actor is very much less likely 
 to appreciate and practise, than that of the stage imitated closely from 
 everyday life. On the one hand the emotional character of the Music- 
 Drama (E), and the function of aiding in clearness (G 2) prescribe as 
 much acting as possible, but both (C 2 and B) require this acting to be 
 dramatically and severely consistent with the action, and to be measured 
 in character, displaying repose and predilection for statuesque Beauty. 
 That men in everyday life do not gesticulate, or otherwise display their 
 feelings, and carefully avoid any posturing, has nothing whatever to do 
 with the Music-Drama, which, as we have seen (A), does not propose 
 to be natural in the sense of reproducing contemporary life and manners. 
 The same consideration applies to idealistic Sculpture. 
 
122 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC T DKAMA. 
 
 9. POETKY AND DICTION. 
 
 The Poetry {in general). — We have already fixed upon 'Dramatic' 
 Poetry (according to D and C) as the kind best fitted to combine with 
 Music. In order to give definiteness to musical expression every aid 
 should be solicited, and the Stage offers a veritable array of means 
 of expression of emotions — the visible characters, speech, gesture, facial 
 expression, visible acts, costume, and scenery. Each of these features of 
 the Stage is an important aid in giving clearness to the phases of emotion 
 expressed by the Music. Moreover, the 'direct' form of discourse is the 
 only form fitted to lyrical expression. Speech is the proper medium to 
 employ in narrating adventures. But where persons are represented as 
 actually performing the acts themselves, the emotion which impels them 
 justifies a form of expression more exalted than ordinary speech, and hence 
 a lyrical form of expression is not highly unnatural. The person in this 
 case is not coolly narrating the feelings and acts of others, but he is him- 
 self acting and feeling. Unless the person himself be urged by an emotion 
 which impels him to expression, he has no excuse for using any mode of 
 . expression more exalted or emotional than ordinary speech. For the mere 
 narration of impersonal facts a poetic diction even is too exalted ; much 
 more so then song and recitative. This, of course, has more to do with the 
 ' situation ' (3) than with the language employed, but it is very important 
 to get a clear idea of the emotional situation concerned in the Music-Drama 
 in order to see clearly what general Style of Poetry will be expedient 
 therefor. It is from this ' general situation ' that the conclusion can be 
 drawn that the Poetry will display all those qualities which are emotional 
 as opposed to calm narrative, or to the rationalistic propositions of science, 
 or to abstract ideas or moralising, or to intellectual complexity. Theoreti- 
 cally, there would seem to be no reason whatever for saying anything on 
 these points, for Poetry would not be Poetry that did not display them. 
 But, and this is very important, there is a great deal of Poetry extant that 
 is not Poetry, and we have become so used to Poetry possessing the 
 character of scientific disquisition, or moralising and philosophising com- 
 plexity, and the stamp of modern intellect in general, that we are no 
 longer sensitive to the true field of Poetry, especially that of singable 
 Poetry in this sense of ' arising from a lyric situation.' From the sponta- 
 neous rhapsodist pouring forth his words directly to his auditors and 
 inspired by their presence, and attention, and applause, the poet has 
 become addicted to the pen, and all its consequences of cool composition 
 sought-for diction, unemotional subject-matter, the long and complicated 
 
9. POETEY AND DICTION. 123 
 
 sentence, development of the intellect. So far has this gone at various 
 times that a certain artificial form of diction which had come to he looked 
 upon as " Poetry," became differentiated so far from its subject-matter that 
 it seemed quite natural to " poets " that this constituted Poetry, whatever 
 subject-matter or situation it might be applied to : to such an extent had 
 poetic diction ceased to be a speech arising naturally out of the feelings 
 generated by the subject-matter — a spontaneous product of the poet's 
 feelings. This lack of feeling for the nature of Poetry has already been 
 referred to (p. 24), but deserves repetition, not only for its important 
 bearing upon the character which the poetic context of the Music-Drama 
 should display, but also in reference to Song and the field of Poetry in 
 general. 
 
 It is hardly possible to make any more than the most general statements 
 about the form of the Poetry, such as that it should be highly aesthetical 
 (B) ; should agree with the dramatic action (C?) ; should be simple (C i) ; 
 should agree intimately with the vocal part (Gja) ; should be highly 
 - emotional (D and E). That it should tally with the general conditions 
 proposed by the Canons is evident, but it is difficult to lay down any dog- 
 matic rules as to what particular form the Poetry should take. This for 
 several reasons. For instance, it is just possible that the form which the 
 ■language would take would be somewhat influenced by the spirit of the 
 particular language employed by the poet, and this would be entirely a 
 matter for the creative poet and not the theorist. Thus, Wagner culti- 
 vated with a degree of success that seems astonishing a form of verse 
 in which alliteration and assonance play a large role. He seems to have 
 considered this form an actual aid even to him in composing. Whether 
 another one would find it so has not been proved, but it is hardly likely 
 that this form of verse would ever succeed in a language less fitted 
 for it by its very nature than the German language was. Further, Wagner 
 made use of metrical verse and even of rhymed verse not only in his 
 earlier works but in his later also, and in some works all these features 
 appear. Now the vocal style differs somewhat in these various forms of 
 verse in a very satisfactory manner. Moreover, it is just possible that 
 • some other form might have served as well. Hence it Will be seen that 
 this is one of the parts of the Music-Drama that must be handled lightly 
 at present. However, two points stand out clearly as part of the Style. 
 The Poetry should mean something and relate to the dramatic action ; the 
 words and vocal melody should agree intimately. The first of the points 
 was often disregarded in the Opera, and the second in the Oratorio. The 
 words should not be silly in meaning, and should not be forced to be 
 accented on the wrong syllable. 
 
 Style of Poetic Diction. Form of Speech.— That the Style of diction 
 
124 THE STYLE OF THE MUSip-DEAMA. 
 
 should be different from everyday speech follows from the consideration 
 that the Music-Drama must not suggest the aspects of contemporary life 
 on pain of appearing highly unnatural and ridiculous or disgusting. Just 
 as a lofty poetic diction would be absurd if employed by a person in real 
 life, so a vulgar parlance in connection with lofty Music and ideal situations 
 would be ridiculous. To agree with the ideal element Music, we should 
 have an unusual form of speech — and this is what is generally associated 
 with the term ' Poetry.' 
 
 The case is especially urgent in the Music-Drama in order to support 
 •^ the lofty subject-matter and artificial (viz. : musical) dialogue and prevent 
 vj them from becoming ridiculous. Any suggestions of modern life by the 
 employment of distinctly modern words and expressions, including ' slang ' 
 expressions, would be insufferable. The potency of such words is seen in 
 its humorous side in the Operette. or the comic Opera (cf. Mikado) and in 
 its serious side in ballads and in Poetry aiming at an exalted effect (cf. 
 Tennyson's Idylls of the King, the Holy Grail, etc.). As regards the use of 
 archaic forms in words and expressions the works of Wagner have been 
 much criticised. (Of. Ring.) A somewhat remarkable case of the potency 
 of more or less obsolete expressions in heightening and sustaining a weird 
 and supernatural subject matter is to be noted in Coleridge's Bhyme of the 
 Ancient Mariner, which is well worth re-reading from this standpoint. 
 Notice the ' antient ' expressions that occur in the striking opening : — 
 
 " It is an ancient Mariner, 
 
 And he stoppeth one of three ; 
 ' By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, 
 Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ? ' 
 
 * * * * 
 
 He holds him with his skinny hand, 
 
 'There was a ship,' quoth he. 
 ' Hold off, unhand me, greybeard loon ! ' 
 
 Eftsoons his hand dropt he." 
 
 Besides employing unusual words and phrases, poetic diction is accus- 
 tomed to display an unusual arrangement of its words — an order of words 
 ■ such that ' more accented ' and ' less accented' syllables succeed each other in 
 a regular manner, which rhythm further separates the diction from every- 
 day speech, and makes it capable of sustaining the sentiments of a lofty 
 subject. Whether this would be an indispensable feature of the Music- 
 Drama is a very different problem and needs more experiments before a 
 judgment can be passed. That Ehyme has no effect in connection with 
 Music, and is, therefore a dispensable feature and should not be allowed to 
 
9. POETRY AND DICTIOK 125 
 
 trammel the poet-composer, seems self-evident. The same holds of metre 
 perhaps. The very fact that Wagner employed verse in which both were 
 absent, and also verse in which both were present, would seem to indicate 
 that they are superficial and dispensable features in so far as the Music- 
 Drama is concerned. (Cf. Lohengrin, Meisters., Tristan, Parsifal) It is 
 barely possible that Wagner's use of Ehythm and Rhyme was a result of 
 habit since he began by using it, or perhaps it aided him in keeping the 
 whole in a poetic atmosphere while composing ; or it is possible that he 
 felt his texts (which often appeared independent from and, in some cases, 
 long before the work as a whole was performed or accessible even), would 
 be taken as literary products and adversely criticised as such, and hence 
 preferred to cast them in a more purely literary form than they might 
 otherwise have presented. In some cases the actual text differed from this 
 provisional draft. Cf. ending of Gotterdammerung. 
 
 It should be a beautiful form of diction, that is, it should display B 
 in its mode of expression those loftier modes of expression which poets 
 have found. The images should be derived from those objects which are 
 in themselves beautiful. In other words, it should be the most aesthetical 
 poetic diction as regards ' content ' that the artist can grasp. 
 
 It should display simplicity, viz. : it should not be a complicated G I 
 Style like that employed by the scientific man to express his complex ideas. 
 It should have a simpler grammar (cf. Hans yon Wolzogen), viz. : it should 
 appeal as little as possible to the intellect in order that it may appeal to 
 the emotions. 
 
 Just as the action must be very simple in its character, so the Ian- G i 
 guage and the ideas expressed thereby must be simple and easily compre- 
 hensible ; the attention to the Music must not be deflected by a complex 
 literary Style. 
 
 The apparatus of language must be very simple when the language is 
 combined with Music, in order that the attention required by the Music 
 may not be monopolised by the intellectual expenditure in understanding 
 our meaning of the language employed. 
 
 The complex sentence is necessary in a ' conversation play ' (spoken 
 Drama), but the simplicity required for the musical Drama must be 
 attained by a vivid presentative action, by which all is brought direct 
 before the eye of the auditor, and his attention thereby economised to the 
 utmost with the surety of making him understand clearly the course of the 
 action. In this respect the difference between an acted action (presentative) 
 and a narrated action, is similar to that between a presentative form of 
 address (the exclamation, command, question) and the impersonal form of 
 address, or talk concerning some action not immediately or presentatively 
 acted on the stage by the speakers at the time (narrative). In this con- 
 
126 
 
 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 nection it is interesting to contrast some of the parts of Tristan that best 
 display the exclamatory character of language springing from the stress of 
 feelings with the sentence in its (intellectually) highest developed form as 
 displayed in scientific treatises and works on Philosophy. 
 
 As regards the crying necessity for simplicity of expression (not silliness 
 necessarily !) and harmony of the modes of expression in the Music-Drama, 
 it will be well for the reader to conceive clearly just what his mind is 
 supposed to be conscious of almost simultaneously in contemplating and 
 listening to the Music-Drama, remembering always that what he is not 
 conscious of can be justified with difficulty. The following scheme is 
 merely to suggest some of the main currents which are flowing side 
 by side on the page, but in the mind, are probably more or less focussed 
 to a single stream. 
 
 Cognitive 
 
 Orchestra (melody and harmony) 1 
 
 ) Ehythm. 
 
 Sensuous 
 (perceptual) 
 
 Vocal tones and succession thereof J 
 
 Words (phonetic). 
 
 Scenery and changes thereof. 
 
 Acting (visual). 
 
 'Sentiments and ideas expressed by words. 
 
 Emotional expressions of music (instrumental and vocal). 
 
 General sentiment of situation. 
 
 Progress of action. 
 
 Action as a whole. 
 
 Cj That the words should spring directly out of the action and should 
 
 contribute to it at every step, seems to be the norm expedient for 
 differentiating the Music-Drama from a mere series of songs or a series 
 of episodes, or from the less dramatic style of the oratorio. Further that 
 all the modes of expression should agree intimately in being the expression 
 of the feelings springing out of the current of the action, seems also 
 axiomatic. At the risk of repetition, however, it may be well to accent 
 the point that agreement between words and vocal Music has two sides 
 in accordance with the two-sided nature of works. Not only should the 
 sentiment of the words be mirrored in the Music accompanying them 
 (including the vocal part), but the outer or phonetic side of the words 
 
9. POETEY AND DICTION. 
 
 127" 
 
 should agree intimately with the vocal notes and their succession, accent, 
 etc. Thus, in the accompanying diagram, 
 
 Words 
 
 Vocal music 
 
 Emotional 
 Expression. 
 
 Phonetic Side. 
 
 V 
 
 not only should the ' inner ' side of the words a, be marked by a corre- 
 spondence in emotional meaning with the Music a!, but also the ' outer ' 
 or phonetic side of the words b, should correspond in detail with the vocal 
 tones, viz. be represented by V , and not by something quite different, as 
 c or d. This two-sided agreement is a very complicated affair. The 
 ' mouthability ' of the words in connection with their tones is a great 
 feature, and a factor in the smoothness, beauty, force and comprehensi- 
 bility of the musical dialogue. It is a pure assumption, that the highly 
 differentiated products of the ' pen poet,' should furnish perfect materials 
 for lyric application. Operas and Oratorio display many faults in this 
 respect — to the extent even of reversing the accent in common words, 
 and in frequent mutilations and repetitions. So far as I know, Wagner 
 avoided these faults (except where they are a part of the intended effect 
 as in Meisterdnger), and yet the point is finer than this, for there is a 
 great difference in the perfection of welding words and tone between his 
 earlier and later works. The whole matter is too technical to discuss here, 
 even if the author were capable, which he is not. It is probable that com- 
 posers have not said the last word upon the subject, although it has long 
 been an important matter in song- writing. Its importance seems especi- 
 ally great in the Music-Drama, on account of the implications of highly 
 emotional character of the subject-matter, and of the importance of the 
 words being easily understood (since they have an important meaning and 
 function), and in being capable in connection with the vocal Music of 
 working an effect upon the spectator. Theoretically there seems to be 
 much in favour of Wagner's ' strong syllable ' form of versification as dis- 
 played in the Eing. It would seem that this form subjected the poet to 
 less restraints, having no assignable effect in the finished work, and is very 
 forcible for dramatic expression, and lending itself to easy comprehension 
 by its incisive accent of important syllables. That there should be a 
 diction for the Music-Drama differentiated from everyday speech, or even 
 from ordinary Poetry, does not seem preposterous. To a certain extent, 
 
12$ THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 something like this has been the case for years, namely, where Italian has 
 been used as a ' musical language ' outside of Italy. But this very case of 
 Operas sung in the Italian, points out the danger of such a differentiated 
 language — it is very liable to overstep the bounds of easy comprehension, 
 and thereby contravene the most important feature of serious Drama. 
 There are reasons for believing that this has actually happened in the case 
 of Wagner's works when given in German outside of Germany, and to a 
 certain extent when given in translation, for what with trying to translate 
 the sense literally and reproduce the alliteration,'and fit the syllables to the 
 original vocal score, the result is often anything but exhilarating. If the 
 words are not understood, the dramatic interest droops, and the mind 
 naturally devotes itself to the vocal and instrumental Music, pure and 
 simple, and not being wholly satisfied thereby, complains of the total 
 work. At any rate, it would seem as if enough materials were at hand 
 in the whole range of musical works of the past (including the negative 
 evidence of the faults in this matter of diction in Operas and Oratorios), 
 to point, out the best road. If not, then a field is open to genius to invent 
 a perfect conglomerate of words and vocal melody or declamation. 
 D A treatment of objective events seldom calls for diction any more 
 
 elated than prose form (cf. Scientific Treatises). Unless there be emo- 
 tional exaltation on the part of the speaker (poet or writer), there is no 
 call for anything but calm, unimpulsive speech. 
 J) The case is different with the Music-Drama, in which the situation and 
 
 & feelings concerned predicate the most 'direct' discourse possible — the 
 E most personal, the least descriptive. The expression is presumably the 
 direct outcome of the impulse of the strong feelings of the participants 
 in the Drama, and as such " I " and " you " are the tenor of its song. It 
 is the very antipodes of that situation proposed by a text-book on chemis- 
 try, which describes a chemical element without any trace of feeling or 
 personality — all pitched in the third person, and neuter ' it ' at that. The 
 dramatic situation refers predominantly to the persons present to the eye 
 and implicated, and not to some distant or absent matter. In this regard, 
 the dialogue is highly ' presentative ' as befits the corresponding nature of 
 Music (Cf), and the conditions of easy comprehensibility of words and 
 situations (C i). It is difficult to describe this subtle difference between 
 a dramatic Style as most highly differentiated from the epical style and 
 the elegy. Enough has been said under other heads, parts 2 and 3. Con ? 
 trast the descriptive tone of Gray's Elegy in a Churchyard, and of Scott's 
 Marmion, with the intensely emotional tone of Wagner's Tristan, ii. 2. 
 
10. SCENERY.. 129 
 
 10. SCENERY. 
 (Costume, Stage Appurtenances, and Symbolism.) 
 
 The fault of the Opera was not that its tableaux were spectacular, b 
 but that its plot did not always require this element of display, and further <fe 
 that they were often of a meretricious pictorial quality. If a drama be con- @ 2 
 ceived a priori in the pictorial spirit, its scenic effects will be demanded 
 by the plot, and will be beautiful in conception. Both faults are charac- 
 teristic of the pretentious Operas of Meyerbeer, in which the dramatic 
 part hardly justifies some of the grandiose effects, and the effects in them- 
 selves are far more suggestive of cleverness and desire to amaze than any 
 pursuit of Beauty. To realise this fully, one must carefully examine the 
 works themselves, and compare the scenic effects with the spirit of the 
 Music. In many cases they will be found to coincide with the contem- 
 poraneous ballet in tendencies and spirit. Show of cleverness in the execu- 
 tion and wonder in the appreciation were the meretrious substitutes for a 
 pursuit of really beautiful effects. The attempt to gain applause by 
 pirouetting upon one toe symbolises the whole tendency. 
 
 Of course, many of these features were aggravated by the discrepancies 
 between Stage and Drama, viz. the Stage, the Music, and the Drama 
 went their respective ways without reference to the distracting influences 
 of such a procedure. Notice also that here, as elsewhere, these features 
 were aggravated by the proposed ' realism ' of the situation. Had there 
 been no suggestions of a proposal to display the outer aspects of everyday 
 life, much of the spectacular would not have appeared so highly artificial 
 and affected. (Contrast opening scene of Wagner's Ekinegold, and cf. jl 
 Qualities of Music and p. 18.) 
 
 One characteristic which is strongly expressed in Wagner's Dramas is the love of ft 
 pictorial Beauty, the guidance of the Drama by a spirit of Beanty which suppressed all 
 that is strongly repulsive. It seems strange that a musician such as Wagner should 
 also have been such a clever discriminator of what is pictorially beautiful. Scenes from 
 Wagner's Dramas are like pictures, pictures in which the feeling for the beautiful is 
 never absent. Few are impressed by this artistic feature of W a gner"s Dramas, because 
 jthere are few people in the present age of hurry and trade that have the capability of not 
 only seeing pictures, but also of feeling that they are seeing them ; it is this little difference 
 in viewing pictures which marks the difference between intellectual discrimination (or 
 realisation of the forms represented) and artistic appreciation of the picture, that is, the 
 experiencing of the emotions which the picture is designed to arouse, and also the gratifi- 
 cation in. the sensuous elements of colour and form which, in the discrimination of colour 
 and form implied by perception, are merely utilitarian, while in Art they impart a flush of 
 pleasure by their stimulation of the organs of sense and of the sensorium. To experience the 
 thrill of pleasure which a work of art is destined to impart requires a capability of exposing 
 the- mind to the various stimuli in such a leisurely manner, with such repose of spirit, that 
 
130 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 the great intellectual machinery of the head may not be set in motion, and that which 
 should give pleasure be degraded to a mere problem or study. A contemplative mood is 
 required, an unfatigued condition of the nerves and mind, and a mind not disposed to treat 
 everything as something to be examined, probed, compared, studied, and criticised. The 
 art critic is particularly liable to be led away from art-enjoyment by the intellectual 
 treatment implied by his profession. 
 
 Another thing is necessary to enable one to thoroughly appreciate the transcendental 
 merit of the scenic effects of Wagner's Dramas, that is — a love of nature ; it is true that 
 the myths that Wagner adopted as subjects for his poems would necessarily lead him to 
 scenes far from the false show of the luxury of the modern drawing-room, with its glitter 
 and flare of gas-lights, heated atmosphere, meretricious ornament and nervous stress. But 
 Wagner did more than, merely to adopt the primitive scenes which his subject-matter 
 offered him, he chose and disposed his materials in the most effective manner from the 
 standpoint of the representation on the stage, for he did not design his Dramas as literary 
 productions to be read in the solitary cell, but to be performed in their entirety on the 
 stage. The stage of Wagner, as compared with that of Shakespeare, will serve to show 
 the marvellous advance in the outward belongings of the Drama. The scenes are con- 
 tinually shifting in Shakespeare's plays, because there was little or no Scenery employed. 
 The chief stress was laid on the dramatic element of the play, and it is probable that the 
 actors were much more subordinated to the literary (rhetorical) element, and mimetics also. 
 Since the female parts were -taken by men and boys, as on the ancient Greek Stage, it is 
 probable that the one • who spoke ' was not as important as ' what was spoken,' This 
 .presents a most striking contrast to the inordinate importance which the opera-singer and 
 prima donna have assumed in modern times, when the ' what ' was never considered, but 
 only the ' who ' (for whom the elements of the Opera were so distorted that nothing was 
 elaborated, except the vocal melody, and even in that very luxuriousness usurped the place 
 of Beauty). The mimetics of the Grecian or Elizabethan stage may have equalled that of 
 the modern stage, but the scenery and scenic effects (including dynamics of illumination) 
 are certainly, the products of the modern stage. The expression employed regarding Wagner's 
 work in perfecting scenic effects employed previously might lead one to suppose that Wagner 
 ■sought to be effective to the highest degree, that is, in the performance as a whole, conse- 
 quently he avoided that straining for effect which results from exaggerating one element at 
 .the expense of the consistency of the dramatic whole. The Lamp of Sacrifice lighted Wagner 
 
 ^ 2 through the mazes of combination of several elements, so that he did not forsake the path 
 of dramatic consistency for the sake of displaying the glitter of stage paraphernalia. 
 Caterina Comoro (Music by Lachner) displays an evident effort to show as much as 
 possible in the Setting (mise-en-scene). The real difference in the two spirits of display is 
 this ; both strive to be effective, but one is guided by a spirit of dramatic congruity which 
 
 2 compels sacrifice of the various members for the total effect': the other is 'effective,' but 
 
 Oj inartistioally so, for the display of scenic effects is often so inconsistent with the dramatic 
 parts, so superfluous as regards the Drama, and so lacking in sublimity, that it shows its 
 superficial or cheap character of effectiveness. Scenic effects which are justified by the 
 dramatic action satisfy our minds with respect to the probability of the scene, and scenery 
 and scenic effects which are artistically beautiful satisfy our assthetical feelings. Such 
 scenes as the opening of the Mheingold, or the hut of Handing, with its great beams of 
 oak and the giant fireplace, with the primaeval oak sending its branches through the roof. 
 Or the scene of the gathering of the " Walkiiries," with the vast piles of rock, the swift 
 black clouds, and the wild war-like maidens. The forge-scene in Siegfried, and the 
 splitting of the anvil by the strong blade of Nothung. Above all, the "awakening of 
 . . -Brunnhilde," lying in her shining armour in the midst of the red flames and clouds. Such 
 j scenes as these, with the ending of the Qotterdammerung, display an artistic ability for 
 
 *5 the pictorial part of Drama superior to all forerunners and contemporaries of Wagner, 
 
 The Function of Scenery. — Music may be. much aided in its effect by 
 costume and scenery, and its effect may be much detracted from by the 
 
 Qi 
 
10. SCENERY. 131 
 
 same cau9e. Thus, scenery representing a modern street Is sufficient, by 
 ita bald and obtrusive realism, to ruin the effect of Music which requires 
 an ideal environment. The incongruity between a modern street scene 
 and a dramatic action with sung dialogue is so palpable that the effect is 
 disgusting. 
 
 It was either fortunate or intentional that Wagner's plots often required musical 
 dialogue in that the. ' situations ' called for it. Thus the Meister 'singer, where the nature 
 of the situation is often such that it requires of its own accord certain parts to be sung. 
 (Cf. church scene, trial, and competition.) So in Tannhavtser, the Venusberg scene, with 
 its " Praise of Venus " in song form, the chorus of the Pilgrims — the whole of the Wartburg 
 scene of the Singers' contest. The most perfect equation in this regard between action and 
 Music is found in Rhtingold, where the opening scene presents such an unreal spectacle that 
 the proper key-note of the mind is set for the rest of the work. In TannJiduser the opening 
 scene is so thoroughly unrealistic, strange, so far removed from everyday life, that the 
 mind is put into the proper mood for appreciating the subsequent part, which might be too 
 realistic for lyrical treatment were not the subject such as it is, rendering the music to the 
 Wartburg scene and the Pilgrims' chorus a necessary lyrical element. The opening scene 
 of the Meistersinger is in a church, with the accompanying church music, which prepares 
 the mind for the subsequent transition to the vocal dialogue. 
 
 Even the fact of the situation of the second act of Tristan being one in darkness is not 
 without importance. Darkness is a very admirable general means for setting us in the 
 ideal region which Music requires. Even the fact of the audience being in a darkened 
 auditorium is of great importance, and is practically recognised as important at the 
 Bayreuth representations. (Cf. p. 140.) The bright blaze of the gas-lights in the audi- 
 toriums of modern opera houses of our cities (especially is this true of Italy) detracts 
 greatly from the effect of a purely idealistic musical Drama by making each auditor feel 
 the presence of the other auditors which constitute the real, modern world about him. 
 Any means by which this sense of the ' society ' relations can be obviated renders a real 
 service to the art-work which is presented on the stage for its own sake, and not as a mere 
 excuse for a society affair. 
 
 That this effect of darkness in the Drama was felt by- Wagner is seen by the beautiful 
 symbol which he makes of night and darkness in the dialogue of the scene itself — where 
 day is used as the symbol of the actual world, and the darkness and absence of torches is 
 symbolical of the unreal world in which the two lovers float — the world of their emotions 
 occupying their souls to the exclusion of all the seen world of the day — deceit, etc. The 
 text and music co-operate to heighten this effect — and the absence of any glaring light does 
 a great deal to make the effect still more impressive. When we feel how the power of 
 Music is not dependent on seeing as other Arts are, but can exert itself in its full intensity 
 in the dark — or when the eyes are closed, then the peculiar fitness of this scene m Tristan 
 can be felt. As the emotions of the two lovers are felt in all their purity and intensity far 
 away from the noise and glare of the world, so the music makes its intensest impression 
 on the listeners when the glare of the 'world' is extinguished in the auditorium, and the 
 emotions of the actors are felt through the musfic which wells up through the air— an 
 unseen power which exerts its whole force, now that no brilliant lights detract the attention 
 from the mysterious power of the music. This is one of the few situations where the 
 power of music can be felt in its most peculiar sphere. 
 
 One way of removing scenery from the adverse criticism of our sense 
 
 of what is natural is to fender it somewhat indistinct. As for the way 
 
 in which "Wagner's works are often performed, it would be much more 
 
 satisfactory if such scenes as the ' Welding of the Sword' in Siegfried, 
 
 etc., were a little less apparent in their industrial tameness. (Cf. Forging 
 
 and 'kindred occupations.) 
 
 E 2 
 
132 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 Since the time when the ' Stage ' replaced the actual combats of the 
 Amphitheatre, an avoidable lack of ferocity and reality has attended 
 scenes of killing and of violence generally. We generally excuse this on 
 grounds of humanity, and make such instinctive allowance that the Drama 
 does not suffer much ; but our attention is unavoidably called to the lack 
 of reality> for the eye is astoundmgly keen in detecting flaws in movements. 
 For one person who is offended by a false note of an instrument in the 
 orchestra, there are a dozen eyes which will detect a lack of reality in the 
 acting. The bearing of this on the Music-Drama is that a little lack of 
 reality or an obtrusive piece of stage deception will distract the attention 
 of the hearer from the Music, for a longer or shorter time, and that against 
 his will. 
 
 However solemn our frame of mind may be, it is seldom proof against 
 • the anti-climax effect of a revealed mishap or delusion in scenic effects. 
 (The inspiriting Music attending the appearance of Lohengrin has often 
 been impaired by some insignificant blemish in the swan's conduct.) It is 
 difficult to say in what manner the stage can be rendered more like a 
 picture, but two facts from performances suggest themselves. The void 
 space between the front row of seats and the edge of the stage in Bayreuth 
 B certainly contributes to separate the spectacle from the spectators — to 
 attain that aesthetic attitude of ' picture ' and ' admirer ' as distinguished 
 from scene and participant therein. (Cf. p. 63.) 
 
 Of course, the arrangement of seats in ' balconies ' which compels the 
 
 A B spectators to look down upon a part of the stage leads them to see much of 
 
 O2 the stage trickery which would not be apparent were the stage 'on the 
 
 line ' for all the spectators. Moreover, any architecture which is painted 
 
 with respect to those in the lower parts of the house appears unpleasantly 
 
 distorted to those in the upper parts. As for the ' boxes ' directly abutting 
 
 on the sides of the stage, they are irrelevant to the stage (as a work of art) 
 
 in more ways than one. 
 
 A With respect to thfr pictorial character of the stage, a word may be 
 
 & said about the ' opera-glass.' Like ' society boxes,' these features of the 
 
 ■" modern opera house do not seem to have arisen from an artistic impulse % 
 
 they are interesting as pointing out an inartistic way of looking at the 
 
 stage. In the days in which the prima donna monopolised the attention 
 
 of all spectators, the opera-glass was doubtless an excellent expedient for 
 
 exploring her qualities — beautiful or otherwise. However, if a stage as a 
 
 whole displayed the noble and beautiful character which it might display, 
 
 there would be no excuse for devoting the entire attention to any single 
 
 feature. Many a painting does not make its full impression unless the 
 
 B spectator looks at it as a whole — sinks himself in the contemplation of it, 
 
 so that he may be sensible of the ' general tone ' which radiates from it. 
 
 Especially is this true where the cofowr-effect is tp be attained. There is 
 
 a ' .total effect ' of the facade of a temple which cannot be felt by examining 
 
10. SCENERY. 135 
 
 any one column. In the case of the.M^isic-Drama there is a particular Gi 
 reason why the use of the opera-glass is detrimental to the : aesthetic 
 enjoyment. We noticed that one reason for the adoption of an ' idealistic ' 
 style of Drama was that it aided in suppressing the adverse criticism of our 
 ' naturalistic ' instincts. Now the opera-glass is one of the best friends of ^ 
 such adverse criticism, for it pitilessly discovers and magnifies faults. For 
 our own sake, then, we should avoid spoiling the effect of beautiful and 
 noble Music by having our attention attracted to faults which might 
 otherwise pass unnoticed. There is a good illustration to be drawn from 
 the contemplation of a painting, so far as eesthetical appreciation of a 
 picture is concerned. An artist ought to have the right to dictate the 
 distance at which the picture should be viewed by the normal eye. Some 
 paintings and statues (especially those associated with architectural design) 
 dictate the general position of the spectator. A painting is not bound to 
 run the gauntlet of exposing itself to a microscopical examination. Por 
 his own sake the spectator will keep his distance, and not ruin a deep 
 impression by looking how the paint is laid on, and how many cracks 
 there may be. Scene-painting, by the gigantic proportions of its works, is 
 relegated to impressionist methods, and the Music-Drama further sanctions 
 this by the importance which it lays upon the general effect, unimpaired by 
 distracting details, as well as the suggestive mystery which is so well fitted 
 to the nature of Music. That a freehand treatment of details is not inconr Ci 
 sistent with conveying the essential nature of things is shown by the fact 
 that a few strokes of a brush in the hands of an artist may give us a more 
 vivid impression of the qualities of a tree than whole days of interfilling 
 by an industrious steel-engraver. (Cf. Turner.) Out-of-doors situation is 
 an easy way of getting away from the everyday scenery of cities. 
 
 One means of evading the critical spirit of the ' naturalist ' is suggested A 
 by Nature, by Painting, and by the Stage. & 
 
 Many visitors to Constantinople complain that a critical perusal of the ■" 
 city dispels the beautiful, impression which the mosque-crowned hills 
 made through the morning mists as the ship came into the Golden Horn. 
 Painters who aspire to something more than market-products often find 
 it of advantage not to reveal all of an object. The spectator who has seen 
 a little too much of the apparatus of the opening scene in Rhinegold, but 
 has been deeply moved by the beauty of the solemn procession bearing 
 Siegfried's body, the armour gleaming in the moonlight, up the rocky 
 heights, for the reason that this procession and the whole scene was 
 shrouded in mystery by the obscurity and the mists, will have learned to 
 appreciate the turning down of the lights and the gauze which allowed 
 him to. peacefully enjoy the grand Music which accompanies the latter £3 
 scene. The difficulties of carrying Siegfried's body (not always a light 
 weight) up the rocky heights (i.e. temporary staircase) are not so apparent 
 to the trembling audience if the veiling mists (i.e. plenty of gauze, etc.) 
 
134 THE STYLE OF THE MtfSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 timely interpose themselves. The ' bridal veil ' has a deep significance for-' 
 
 stage effects. The poetical glamour which can be cast over a roughly 
 
 painted scene by a delicate veil evokes the wish that the average theatre 
 
 would save a little money on bald realism and gas, and spend it on gauze. 
 
 ; : , "Whether or hot the vocal part would suffer from a slight permanent veiling 
 
 of the stage can only be determined by experiment ; at any rate, the above 
 
 scene from Gotterdammerung would not be affected thereby, since the 
 
 orchestra assumes the whole emotional expression of the scene. The 
 
 A beauty and splendour which architectural features of a scene may be made 
 
 & to assume through mist and distance may be seen in some of Turner's 
 
 -^ works, or if one is fearful of the name of Turner let him look at Nature. 
 
 5 Cf. temples in Egypt by sunset through smoke of village. 
 
 Bad and. misleading scenery is less satisfactory than none at all. 
 Square blocks of wood painted a sickly stone colour are simply hideous. If 
 Scenery be displayed unveiled to the eyes it should have some delicacy — 
 refinement. There is one refuge for all stage directors ; they can take 
 refuge in indefiniteness of effect; they must become impressionists and 
 paint the stage in large and suggestive traits. No matter how coarse a 
 picture may be painted, it will not display its coarseness if removed a 
 sufficient distance from the stage, or "dimmed" sufficiently by gauze 
 interposed between the scenery and the audience or by generous recourse 
 to a dim religious illumination. Magical effects may be obtained on 
 simple stages by this means. The appearance and disappearance of 
 Venus in the last act of Tannhcmser may be rendered truly magical and 
 seducing if sufficiently dim. It might be well in many scenes to make 
 the effect more " ideal " by inclosing the whole stage in a mist or cloud 
 by a gauze screen transparent in its middle but opaque near the edgea 
 The boards of the stage floor are always disturbing in their effects when 
 • the seams are highly visible in the midst of a landscape. With an interval 
 of half-an-hour between each act for change of scenery such disturbing 
 features of the scenic picture might be obviated. 
 
 The Style of the Drama in which there are clouds and mists requires 
 the lights to be extinguished in the auditorium. Clouds painted on gauze 
 and mists or " effects of distance " must not be lighted from the auditorium 
 (foot-lights), or they are seen themselves instead of imperceptibly veiling the 
 scenery behind. The gauze must not appear except as a screen. The stage 
 might be more "idealised" by a permanent gauze screen between the 
 scenery and the audience. In any case much can be done by subduing 
 the illumination. 
 
 Scenery should either reproduce the beauties of Nature, or else it should 
 
 . present beauties of its own. Some ' clouds ' which were passed in front of 
 
 B a scene in the Gotterdammerung, as once seen by the author, were mere 
 
 parodies of the delicacy of Nature, and were also not beautiful or pleasing 
 
 in themselves; they reminded one of those clouds of dough adhering to 
 
 some altar-pieces of the XVIIth Century (Jesuit). This is an important 
 
10. SCENERY. 135 
 
 point. Japanese Art displays many pleasing lines in its strange clouds 
 and streams that the mind can enjoy as artistic features in spite of their 
 unlikeness to Nature. 
 
 Modern scenery is made too much after the fashion of poor steel 
 engravings— there is too much for the price; too much finish which is 
 false in that it does nothing to make a feature more effective. As beauti- B 
 ful as the Greek theatre must have been in the fresh air and warm 
 sunshine, yet that splendid development of the lands of cold and night — 
 colossal scenic effects — is a compensation for much of the ancient open- 
 air art. The scenic effects of our modern " night " representations are a 
 feature not to be despised in our judgment of the theatre. 
 
 The illumination of the scenery and the stage in general should be 
 carefully managed ; there is no reason for throwing a strong light on a 
 mountain range so that it comes within touching distance of the actors. 
 Likewise it is not necessary to throw a strong light upon each wave in the 
 marine scenes of the Flying Dutchman. Mystery is not only advantageous 
 in a negative way by not arousing the critical faculties and in forestalling 
 them, but further it has a positive value in supplying an artistic effect. It 
 seems at times that we cannot possibly get over the old prima donna 
 illumination. It is astonishing how callous many persons are, not only to 
 artistic scenery, but to the presence of most glaring effects of paint, etc., in 
 the make-up of the faces ; likewise to one of the greatest effects possible — 
 •that of darkness upon the imagination of the spectator — an effect we have 
 experienced more or less ever since we were little children, to which the 
 world probably owes much of its naive philosophy as displayed in myths 
 and primitive religion. How much more effective dragons might be upon 
 the stage if they were not compelled to bask and fight in the glare of an 
 electric light — how much this interferes with their vague suggestiveness, 
 exciting our imagination without fully satisfying it. A similar disregard 
 of the advantages of mystery is seen in Painting, where angels are painted 
 with that definiteness of appearance that makes the spectator feel just 
 those qualities which are directly opposed to our idea of an angel — so 
 •many pounds avoirdupois, and complete lack of spirituality. One cannot 
 fancy them capable of sustaining themselves above the ground for a 
 moment. The last scene of the Flying Dutchman is another instance in which 
 •the methods of the Music Hall are allowed to spoil an artistic effect. As 
 it is usually given, the apotheosi's is of such an astonishing brilliancy as to 
 be childish, if not ludicrous. Our stage effects have little or no depth ; 
 they seem to be unable to suggest that they extend more than fifty feet 
 behind the footlights. It is as if we could not get beyond the limits of the 
 three walls which make up the paraphernalia of a chamber-drama. The 
 Flying Dutchman and Senta seem to rise in a highly phosphorescent 
 condition directly but of the water near us, the lights and colours being 
 So strong as to suggest the vulgar colouring of a cheap Christmas card. 
 
 Tir„ m i„„n™ n. a n also be a means of idealisation, cf. Hagen's vision in 
 
136 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA. 
 
 Gotterdammerung and. Exda's Gestalt. There is also a deep connection 
 between mystery and subdued illumination which should not be overlooked 
 (p. 141). Cf. in this connection the somewhat remarkable strangeness of 
 the Music accompanying the visual strangeness of such scenes as " the 
 invocation of Erda" (Siegfried). 
 
 It is worthy of note that among the strangest colours of the spectrum 
 are the violets (possibly due to unfamiliarity in everyday life). Perhaps 
 the same may be said of the blue-greens (cf. the wonderful colour-effects in 
 connection with the serpentine dance). That the ' general tone ' of a 
 picture can ' speak,' can aid in rendering the dramatic action more clear 
 and forcible is shown in Tannkduser, act i, where the scene changes (in 
 deep accordance with the Music) from the glitter, and crimsons, and pink 
 C J of the voluptuous Venusberg to the passionless green forest and hills of 
 the "Wartburg region, with the naive shepherd's song and chorus of the 
 pilgrims. 
 
 A sehod of scenery painters for the pictorial part of the Music-Drama 
 is wanting— an " idealistic " school with pictorial phantasy and a feeling 
 for decorative effects. 
 
 There is a high " idealism " requiring a vivid fancy, for which a school 
 is needed in this day of boasted triumphs of the realistic imitation of 
 Nature. Also a realisation of the charm of mastery. 
 
 Architecture, perhaps, does not enter into Wagner's works to the extent which it might. 
 Parsifal containing, perhaps, more that is related to Architecture (in its temple interior 
 scene) and Klingsor's castle. 
 
 Wagner takes us into the " rein-naturliche " in removing us from interiors (Siegfried 
 versus Traviata). His works are marked by open-air scenes. 
 
 Had Wagner adopted the myth as a basis for his Drama as a mere foil for the display 
 
 of beautiful Scenery, he could hardly have found better motif; for the forms of Siegfried, 
 
 Briinhilde, and the gods are ideals of men and women with a costume which approximates 
 
 2J in i|s plastic character to that of the Greeks. The bare limbs and free flowing robes are 
 
 JL not only beautiful in themselves, but they serve, in addition, to forcibly prevent any 
 
 Q c suggestions of modern life in its outer aspects, and further, they have their dramatic value 
 
 as symbolic attributes of the characters of the persona. 
 
 There is a very great difference between the show pieces of a • pantomime ' and the rich, 
 G 2 but subdued pictures which may make the effect of the Music-Drama stronger and clearer. 
 J} The fact is, that scenas of high ideal Beauty would be less effective if not accompanied 
 
 by Music which supplies the proper atmosphere. 
 G i A scene does not necessarily detract from the dramatic part by reason of its quiet 
 
 q 2 Beauty— but it does so if a mere show of luxurious effects uncalled for by the Drama. 
 The Drama of the Music-Drama should require the scenes which its Style calls for. 
 
 'Costume' as a feature in idealisation should be far removed from 
 A contemporary costume. Costume is really an important factor in the 
 sesthetical effect on the mind, for our daily experience makes us sensitive 
 to the presence of clothing and its particular ' cut ' or fashion. Hence a 
 modern costume on an actor in the Music-Drama is sufficient to ruin the 
 whole ideal effect. The great difficulty for the music-dramatist is in recon- 
 
10. SOENEEY. 137 
 
 ciling the most ideal Art of all (the highly artificial Art of Music) with 
 the reality of human beings acting as in real life. That orchestral Music 
 should in some way stand for disembodied emotion seems partly natural, 
 but an acted Drama, accompanied by Music — here the sense of the real is 
 likely to be pained. However, this highly artificial combination may 
 become tolerable when the artificial mixture is enjoyed as an artificial 
 contrivance (or art) devised to please the hearer, just as the " ballad " 
 becomes tolerated. It is probable that the obliviousness to the" artificial 
 combination of Music and acting human beings must be -cultivated, else the 
 beauty cannot be felt. The absurdity of the artificial situation is pain- 
 fully apparent to the person who views " the Opera " for the first time, viz. ? 
 without the preparatory deadening of his sense of the real (or the usual, 
 his daily experience) ; such a person feels as if a strong Drama had been 
 ruined by an absurd attempt to ' hitch Music to it.' It is in helping one 
 over this difficulty that costume is of prime importance, for the spectator is 
 inclined to view the artificial combination more leniently if he is not 
 alarmed by seeing everyday figures parade before him in the guise of 
 persons unable to express themselves otherwise than in song. If the 
 costume be totally unlike any -he is familiar with in everyday life, his 
 mind is more likely to admit that beings so dressed might naturally 
 employ song in expressing themselves. 
 
 That the Style of the Music-Drama condemns such artificial and ugly . 
 features as crinoline, etc. is self-evident. In fact such features are just as ^ 
 inconsistent with the Music-Drama as with Sculpture. (Cf. p. 49.) As £ 
 regards the aesthetic treatment of dress, it is evident that the Music-Drama 
 offers a fine field for the artist. He is bound to no historic Mode of 
 costume, and can realise some of the beauties of the Greek garment. In 
 this connection it may be well to remark that many of the costumes on 
 the stage which pose as Grecian are entirely opposed to our idea of the 
 Greek costume. Tight lacing and the general outline of the ' corset ' are 
 referred to, of course. Quite aside from the noxious influence of such 
 practices upon vocal execution, they are instantly suggestive of modern 
 life and worse — of the vanity of modern life (B and C 4). An inspection . 
 of the best Greek statues will show one what is meant, better than 
 descriptions of the difference between garments ' cut to fit ' and those which 
 merely drape the body with a material loosely woven enough to fall easily 
 into folds and heavy enough to allow gravity to get a good hold upon it. 
 It is next to impossible at the present day to find textiles that are not too 
 closely woven to fold easily, and not flimsy like thin silks, or not ' flashy ' 
 like satin finished goods. But the complete system of drapery requires 
 the abolition of the before-mentioned modern features also. 
 
 To symbolism apply the considerations classified in the Canons A, B, C, 
 etc. Thus, that the objects chosen as symbols should not suggest distinc- 
 tively modern life is in accordance with (A). The pistol is directly opposed 
 
138" THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 to the 'removal from modern life* (p. 58). The sword and spear, on the 
 contrary, have in themselves and in their historical associations something 
 strange and poetic and suggestive of other types of life than that which has 
 led to the invention of Gatling guns, repeating rifles, and torpedoes. This 
 leads us to Canon B, for, strangely enough, many modern instruments, 
 tools, arms, etc., are more or less lacking in Beauty and unsuited to use in 
 Painting, Sculpture, or Poetry. Perhaps this unfitness may be partly 
 explained by their non-conformity to quality C i — they are too compli- 
 cated, appeal too much to the intellect, do not spontaneously suggest by 
 their outward form their mode of manufacture or mode of use. The sword 
 and spear fulfil all these conditions. 
 
 Turner, the modern Pre-Raphaelites, and Wagner are alike in one respect, and all 
 representative of their epoch, viz. a leaning towards poetic symbolism and allegory. 
 There is an 'interpretation' to be educed from most of Turner's scenes, (see Stopford 
 Brooke, in his notes on the " Liber " of Turner), which is sententious in its character. The 
 symbolism of the pictures of the Pre-Eaphaelites was a notable feature of their work, well 
 agreeing with the serious nature of their aims. Wagner's works are pre-eminently 
 dramatic manifestations of religious and philosophical concepts. 
 
 Each play of Wagner's is the outward and visible sign of some great idea. It is the 
 symbolistic objectification of that idea. But whether this wholesale symbolism in Art is 12 
 essential (particularly to the Music-Drama) remains to be seen. (Cf. p. 51.) 
 
 Even the ' gods ' in Ring of the Nibelungen are artistic, in that they are the concrete 
 personifications of moral impulses, they are not convenient 'occurrences' to call in at 
 trying moments to * protect the Greeks from the Trojans.' Like the personal curse laid 
 on the ring by Alberich, they do no more than the impulses which they represent would 
 do. Siegmund is killed by the wronged husband as if Prika did not enter into the play 
 as the protectress of the sanctity of marriage. Neither gods, nor symbolical attributes, 
 nor magic are extraneous or capricious powers and wants. They are rather concrete 
 symbols of natural human tendencies conforming to poetic probability and unity of 
 dramatic action. 
 
 This may be viewed as an extension of the device of personification. Wagner's works, 
 as wholes and entities, may be regarded as (concrete) personifications of abstract ideas. 
 
11.. THE STYLE OF THE PERFORMANCE. 139 
 
 11. THE STYLE OF THE PERFORMANCE. 
 
 This, while seeming a merely secondary matter, and usually taken for 
 granted, is in fact a matter of the highest importance. What does it avail 
 us if we have the Music-Drama, but cannot enjoy it ? The proper style of 
 performance is the sine qua non of the Musie-Drama ; without it the Music- 
 Drama is like the mere architectural " plan " of an unconstructed building. 
 It is one of the points of the Style least realised to-day in our usual 
 performances of Wagner's works. In fact the desideratum at the present 
 day is less attempts at Wagner, and more realisations of Wagner. This is 
 where critics might do some good, if they would only outlive the old tactics 
 of the prima donna period, and spend more time upon the performance as a 
 whole, and less on Madame X's voice and high notes. We have the same 
 trouble with our theatrical performances ; they are very liable to be uneven 
 as regards the various parts, and all savour of pursuit of self-laudation and 
 financial amelioration by any means, whether artistic or not. In fact, the 
 very spirit of the Stage seems to be opposed to any serious art interests. 
 Amusements absorb almost everything, and it seems at times as if high- 
 class Music in concerts was supported rather by the efforts of the leaders 
 of the orchestras and by a sort of ' society ' tolerance, than by aesthetic 
 demands. The whole spirit of the opera-house is that of a commercial 
 enterprise to furnish amusement for a part of the day in common with 
 other society events. If we are really to have a serious Art to which we 
 are willing to give up a little time and energy from other affairs, some 
 change will have to take place in our mode and spirit of performance, viz. 
 audition. 
 
 It is even conceivable that a mistake is being made in giving Wagner's 
 works in an opera-house under the ordinary conditions ; their great length, 
 which either bores the habitue at the end of a day devoted to entirely 
 contrary matters, or leads to more or less reasonable ' cutting ' ; the meagre 
 opportunities for relaxation from a highly complicated stimulation of 
 nerves and mind, the lack of a quiet spirit of contemplation undisturbed 
 by features external to the work. These and other considerations make it 
 very doubtful whether, in seeing Wagner's works in our opera-houses, we 
 are doing any more than satisfying our curiosity as to what they are like 
 in some few respects. The works are given and seen under very unfavour- 
 able circumstances, and then criticised as if they could only be given in 
 this casual and fragmentary manner. The opera-house is still attempting 
 to serve two functions, that of displaying works of art, and (primarily) of 
 furnishing an evening's amusement to a large number of people who are 
 not only unwilling or unable to give up a little time to a preparation for 
 
140 THE STYLE OF «THE 'MUSIC-DBAMA 
 
 •i 
 
 the work and its calm reception, but actually busy themselves with matters 
 quite foreign to the art-work taking place in one corner of the house. 
 Whether "Wagner's gigantic (for the time and circumstances) undertaking 
 of the Bayreiith Theatre is a success or not, it at least may serve to point 
 out the way we ought to go about it to enjoy a serious work of art. It 
 would seem that we might have learned the same lesson from the Greeks 29 
 in their festival performances, but ancient Athens seems so different from 
 the modern world without slaves (or in which all are slaves) that it is 
 difficult to see the moral. We are so addicted to the pursuit of an 
 evening's amusement that we never stop to consider that serious Art can- 
 not sincerely flourish under the same conditions as those of the Music 
 Hall. The same spirit pervades our decoration, we have more bric-a-brac 
 about us in our houses than a Greek ever thought of, and yet we have no 
 time to look at it, or train ourselves to distinguish between the good, bad, 
 and indifferent. Of the quiet spirit of composure which should accompany 
 the contemplation of real works of art we get an inkling in contemplating 
 some of the features of the Bayreuth performance. In the first place, the 
 removal of the small village from the great world which renders the journey 
 almost a pilgrimage, has a tendency to counteract that spirit of merely 
 ' turning into ' a theatre for a little amusement and conversation. In some 
 respects it reminds us of the conditions of the Greek festivals. It means 
 that one has gone there for a certain purpose, and it allows him to, more 
 or less, devote his whole mind and attention to that purpose. This is 
 further proclaimed in the time at which the performance takes place, its 
 length and its nature. It is not parasitical upon an evening dinner with 
 the attendant possibilities of dropping in some time during the perform- 
 ance, 'just to see how the play 's getting along.' The length of time given 
 up to the work allows its performance in its integrity without the usual 
 "cutting' of the work, and allows time between the acts for recreation of 
 body and mind. The form of the theatre is such as to ensure a proper 
 sight and hearing of the work to all admitted, while discouraging, by 
 darkening the auditorium, any of that display of dress and personality- 
 which is the bane of serious art-enjoyment. The disposition of the orchestra 
 also has a p^ace in that differentiation of a theatre from a place of amuse- 
 ment. Not that there is anything wrong in amusement in its place, but 
 there are good reasons for excluding it where it interferes with an effect 
 worth exercising a little self-restraint for in order to obtain. It would 
 occupy too much space to take up the subject here, but it is hoped that 
 the foregoing and a few words further, may make it clear that art-enjoy- 
 ment is subjected to certain conditions, and to disregard the subjective 
 conditions of enjoyment is to deprive one's self of the enjoyment. 
 
 This is not a matter of the Music-Drama only : it holds of art-works; 
 in general. That the best way to enjoy the symphony is not to sit next 
 to the drum, or that to enjoy a painting one should not have a headache, 
 
11. THE STYLE OF THE PERFORMANCE. 141 
 
 or examine the pigments only, are generally recognised features of aesthetic 
 enjoyment. 
 
 It seems justifiable to presuppose some familiarity with the plot of 
 a Music-Drama previous to approaching the actual performance. This 
 should in no way, however, supplant an understanding of the vocal 
 dialogue as rendered on the stage. This preliminary knowledge ii 
 somewhat comparable to the popular mythology which the perform- 
 ance of a Greek play presupposed. That there should be any previous 
 study of the score presupposed, is contrary to the very nature of an 
 art-work as contrasted with a piece of ingenious mechanism, or with 
 a scientific treatise. The painting that presupposes a knowledge of 
 Hottentot mythology before it can be understood and enjoyed is running 
 great risks. 
 
 That the construction of the theatre is a part of the style of the per- 
 formance, seems to have been very clearly recognised by Wagner. That 
 the interior should be such as to enable all the spectators to get the 
 pictorial effect is largely disregarded in our opera houses, in which respect, 
 the above mentioned feature of a double function creeps out naively. It 
 will only be necessary to state that stage scenery suffers disastrously from 
 being looked at from veiy far above ' the line ' (as from side boxes or the 
 upper gallery) : from being looked at too near, or from then-sides (as from 
 boxes at the sides). Our callousness to beautiful scenic effects is often 
 naively revealed by our insensibility to such distortions. One must be 
 able to see, but not to see too much. That the origin of boxes was not 
 in deference to art-enjoyment is very evident. Their distracting tendency 
 appears in several forms. 
 
 The darkening of the auditorium is not only connected with this latter 
 feature, but is probably a positive factor in the effect of the stage. In 
 connection with an unseen orchestra, it may have a great effect in heighten- 
 ing the scenic and other effects. Likewise, the complete depression of the 
 orchestra below the line of sight of the spectators, as effected in the theatre 
 in Bayreuth, has not merely the negative virtue of not distracting the 
 attention from the Drama by the silhouette of the perspiring leader of the 
 orchestra in professional converse with the characters of the scene before 
 us. It has the further positive advantages of heightening the mysterious 
 effects of Music ; — of accenting its function as the bearer of the emotions 
 of the Drama ; — of producing (especially in connection with the curved 
 ' hood ') a general effect of wonderful harmony ; and it is a very important 
 means of preventing the voices from being overwhelmed by the orchestra. 
 This last is a very important point, for it has not only to do with the vocal 
 effect regarded as a mere musical effect, but further with the intelligibility 
 of the words which has been deemed an essential feature of the style of 
 the Music-Drama (cf. 7, C 2). In the ordinary performances this comes 
 out naively, for we easily fall into the way of caring very little whether 
 
142 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA." " 
 
 we understand the words or not (this is somewhat aided by our experiences 
 with the Opera) ; the singers are impelled to run about the stage screech- 
 ing like mad for fear they will not ' make an effect,' and they frequently 
 resort to that old method of making their influence felt by standing very 
 near the footlights, and carefully facing the audience whenever they have 
 occasion to say anything. 
 
 Connected with the last point is the important feature of the Style 
 mentioned of making the performance a special one, upon which both 
 participants and audience put forward their best efforts. Under Acting and 
 Vocal Style has been mentioned the necessity for surety of vocal intonation, 
 of enunciation of words, of rhythmic surety both in music and acting, and 
 in repose and freedom from anxiety of the whole performance — all entail- 
 ing a long and serious preparation and concentration of attention. To the 
 large repertoire of the German opera house may perhaps be attributed the 
 mediocre performances of Wagner's works sometimes heard. The singers 
 should be very familiar with their parts in order to act and sing freely and 
 surely and without exciting anxiety on the part of the spectators, which is 
 destructive of sesthetical effect in any Art of this kind. 
 
 Great stress has been laid upon the necessity for complete consistency 
 of all parts, and, as has been said, "the performance should consist in a 
 peculiar (to this Art) intimate congruity of the modes of expression of 
 several Arts." The conditions must be such as to offer that " restful attitude" 
 of pure aesthetic contemplation. 
 
 The Style absolutely requires an "entirely peculiarly rich use of 
 instrumental means, the dimensions of the Music-Drama require it." This 
 necessitates a theatre of a size corresponding to the dimensions of the 
 means and the dignity of the work given. Upon the size, accoutrement, 
 and perfection of the orchestra, depend much of the possibilities of emotion 
 expression ; upon the dimensions of the stage depend much of the effect of 
 works that deal pre-eminently with large and grand subjects. That the 
 Music-Drama is not a genre kind of art-work has been suggested (p. 66). 
 That the problem is quite different from that of the French ' chambre ' 
 Drama is evident. ^Esthetic effect often depends upon size as judged by 
 its excess of man's dimensions. This is perhaps why grand stage effects 
 are more hazardous than Paintings, in which the size of the picture is of 
 far less sesthetical importance. Poetry has great advantages over the stage 
 in being able to shift its scenery ad libitwm and to make it of 'isuperhuman ' 
 dimensions. The stage actually puts something before us, and if that does 
 not come up to our expectation — well, the distance between the sublime 
 and the ridiculous is very short and downhill all the way. That the 
 dimensions of the orchestra cannot be greatly enlarged without some cor- 
 responding enlargement of the theatre is naively shown by the way the 
 voices are often drowned by the orchestra in a small opera house ; the 
 hearers are stunned, and naturally go away attributing the effect to Wagner^ 
 
11. THE STYLE OF THE PERFORMANCE. 1*43 
 
 as well as any false notes that may have emanated from defective instru- 
 ments and playing. 
 
 The seriousness of the Music-Drama necessitates a kind of performance j^ 
 which differs from that which is the fashion on the modern stage. The 
 proportions of the work render it impossible to give a decent representation 
 28 as a part of the weekly repertoire. The fact that an intricate performance 
 
 has to be given necessitates a complete grasp of each part by the actor and C 2 
 singer. The rhythm of Music is inexorable — it stops for no actor — hence 
 perfect familiarity with each part is necessary for each and every participant. Gj 
 The " lofty " Style which we have attributed to the Music-Drama renders 
 it expedient that a performance of it should stand apart from the current 
 performances of the week. To be given in its proper manner, the 
 performance should partake of the nature of a festival. It should be B 
 seldom given, but well given. It should not be degraded by too great 
 familiarity — by too frequent performance, nor by mediocre performances, 
 and one's whole energy should be devoted to the art- work, not merely that 
 remaining after a hard day's work. 
 
 END Off VOL. 1 
 
145 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Page 27. Degree of Presentativeness of Art~works. Note 
 
 To be more accurate, there are four phases of this presentativeness : — 
 
 (1) Arts like Poetry, (read poetry) that are purely representative. 
 
 (2) Arts like Painting, that represent some object or event in life, and yet present 
 something to the eye also (not mere symbols, like words). 
 
 (3) Arts like Architecture and Decorative Arts, that do not represent any feature of 
 life, and present something to the eye, and yet do not 
 
 (4) Like Music, present their stimuli for a limited time only and in a limited way, 
 Becited poetry and the stage are composite in their nature, the first partaking of certain 
 
 qualities of (1) and (4) ; the stage combines qualities (2) and (4). 
 
 Page 16. The Arts and the Imitation of Life. Note ! 
 
 This generalisation regarding qualities of presentativeness and representativeness among 
 the Arts is somewhat closely connected with an analogous generalisation. Some Arts, 
 Literature, Poetry, the Stage and Painting, are predominantly concerned with human life 
 and its surroundings, viz., they are parasitical upon our interest in human life and its 
 depiction. Other Arts, as Architecture, the Decorative Arts and Formal Music, are very 
 little concerned with our interest in depicted human life. 
 
 Connected with both these generalisations, and intimately correlated with them and 
 emphasising them, is the feature of the differential attitude of the various Arts towards 
 the sensuously ugly and beautiful respectively. Thus Architecture, the Decorative Arts 
 and Formal Music, offer almost exclusively dispositions of stimuli that are pleasing in 
 themselves, whereas, the Stage and Novels often offer to the mind stimuli and ideas 
 that are per se absolutely ugly, depending for their effect upon the satisfaction we derive 
 from contemplating human life in its ups and downs of fortune. The virility of a novel 
 sometimes excuses the inclusion of features and phases of human life, nature and morals, 
 that are ugly or low to the point of disgust, and justifies a diction and mode of description 
 that are intentionally the reverse of elegant. 
 
 These generalisations receive a partial confirmation from the case of the intermediate 
 arts and the gradations of style within a single art. Painting presents stimuli directly to 
 the eye, and represents objects at the same time. Much of the violent discussion regard- 
 ing painting has arisen through this combination of qualities, whereby it can cultivate 
 both the sensuously pleasing in form and colour, and the interestingly ugly, through the 
 perfection of its means of detailed representation of form and colour. To a great extent, 
 the paintings of Millet, Bastien Lepage and Adolf Menzel appeal to our interest in 
 human life,, and they often fly the fashionably elegant. In Decorative Paintings, Fresco, 
 and Stained Glass, however, in which the means and end sanction a cultivation of the 
 sensuously beautiful in form and colour, scenes from low life, and physically and morally 
 ugly dbjects or events, are carefully avoided, and great stress laid upon elegance in the 
 mode of representation. Detailed imitation of indiscriminate scenes from everyday life is 
 much less conspicuous therein. 
 
 L 
 
146 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DKAMA, 
 
 In that part of literature which is marked by a predominance in the employment of 
 the sensuous stimuli of rhyme and rhythm, the occurrence of absolutely ugly objects and 
 disgusting ideas is quite exceptional. There is a correlative agreement with the law in 
 the gradations, even, between works marked by vigorous ideas and prose on the one hand, 
 and elegant ideas and highly artificial poetical diction on the other. Music, even, displays 
 at times an extreme regard for outward form. But when appealing more to our 
 interest in human feelings than to our sense of musical beauty, it disregards some of the 
 more formal devices. (Cf. Questiom on the philosophy of Art, part D.*) 
 
 Note 3. Page 9. General Situation. 
 
 It 'will probably be readily acknowledged that the Stage offers a larger number of 
 imitative traits than any other of the arts, viz., the Stage is in a position to offer a more 
 complete representation of the aspects of everyday life than any art. Aside from its 
 easy solution of the" ' flesh-colour wrangle * of Painting, and its avoidance of any of the 
 perplexities of perspective in simple chamber scenes, it adds a most important element of 
 imitation to Painting, or the Novel, in the living dialogue employed. But just because it 
 enjoys this privilege among the Arts of imitating a feature of life, spoken language— to 
 the naturalism of which our life- long use of, and familiarity with, make us extremely 
 sensitive— for this very reason, the Stage is exposed to very severe restrictions in the 
 matter of probability and 'general situation..' To represent in a novel a modern street 
 scene, with two rough workmen talking together, may satisfy us, although the author takes 
 no great pains to attain a high degree of naturalism by the avoidance of grammatical 
 niceties in this conversation. But the same scene presented upon the Stage— where we not " 
 only see faces, figures, clothes, and movements, but also hear the actual tones of the voice 
 and the words as spoken— will hardly pass our minds unchallenged if we hear the workmen 
 conversing in clear, open, and subdued voices, and using a diction worthy of the drawing- 
 room or the Senate chamber. How much more our minds would spontaneously rebel if 
 the workmen proceeded to employ a lofty blank verse, or an elegant rhymed verse, or the 
 dramatically pompous recitative of the grand opera. 
 
 As an instance of the lack of feeling as regards the extreme importance of subjects 
 matter and general situation as the sine qua non of the employment of a poetic diction, 
 the following quotation may serve our purpose, and at the same time illustrate the 
 tendency of 'overlapping" in the Arts to produce such examples of lack of harmony. 
 About the original work — the novel, Eugene Aram — it will not be necessary to say any- 
 thing. It was probably good enough not to deserve any such ruthless designs upon it 
 as its author formed when he proposed to make a tragedy of it and thereby showed the 
 besetting tendency of his age to regard any given subjeot-matter as expressible in two very 
 different forms and dictions indifferently. In the short sketch of the tragedy, appended 
 to an edition dated 1849, occurs the following opening scene. The setting is a perfectljf 
 definite one in the middle of the last Century. 
 
 " Act i. : Scene 1. Aram's apartment, Books, Maps, and Scientific Instruments 
 
 scattered around. In everything else the appearance of greatest poverty. 
 1st Creditor (behind the scene). I must be paid. Three moons have flitted since 
 
 You pledged your word to me. 
 2nd Creditor. And me ! 
 
 3rd Creditor. And me ! 
 
 Aram (entering). Away, I tell ye ! Will ye rend my garb ? 
 
 Away ! to-morrow, — Gentle sirs^ to-morrow, &q." 
 This needs no comment. 
 ' It is interesting to try to account for the callousness of feeling for Style displayed by 
 works presenting modern, life with direct discourse in poetic diction, as well as the oblivi- 
 ousness of the auditor-spectator-reader of such works. It may possibly be caused in the 
 following way. It is a notable fact that people dp so much reading in this day of daily 
 
 W. F. S., London (Clowes and Sons), 1897; 
 
NOTES. 147" 
 
 newspapers, monthly magazines, and books of all kinds, thai they unconsciously fall 
 into a very careless way of representing to their minds the objects and events described. 
 We do not develop that ' plastio or concrete' type of mind which the ancient Greeks, 
 who did not read so much, possessed in a high degree. We are losing that tendency 
 of the mind to represent its images, excited by written words, in terms of clear sight. 
 Our minds tepd to become more and more absorbed in the purely intellectual side of 
 things — in 'relations' rather than concrete objects, in the working out of plot rather 
 than the pictorial value of situations, 'setting' and episode. We fix our attention upon 
 what a speaker says rather than upon his appearance. Since the colour of Objects is not 
 always the most essential feature, we cease to observe it intently or take much pleasure in 
 it. For a good many people the world would be quite as satisfactory in mere black and 
 white. When we peruse a story or a drama, or a poem, hour after hour, we cease to 
 represent clearly the * stage side ' — the pictorial side — of the work. The personam end by 
 being mere phantoms — disembodied characters thinking certain abstract ideas and partici- 
 pating in certain events. The visual side of our mental ' constructs ' is often allowed to 
 become lamentably weak from the standpoint of art, although advantageously, perhaps, 
 from the standpoint of economy of energy in thinking, for we depend upon our ability 
 to ' fill out ' our construct if required at any time to do so. (Cf. James' Psychology.) We 
 hurry through a book in a short time ' just to get the idea of it.' If suddenly stopped 
 while reading about Odysseus and required to give an account of his dress and figure, 
 one will probably discover, perhaps to his own surprise, how very vague his image of the 
 Greek's physique and costume was ; in fact, Odysseus,, for all the attention the reader 
 was paying to the visual side of his personality, might have worn a modern dress-suit, or 
 none at all. [A person, when taken off his guard, will often be utterly unable to tell 
 the colour of the eyes of his most intimate friends even. Perhaps the lack of develop- 
 ment of the visual side of the images aroused by reading may be partly due to the 
 rapidity with which we read, which is too great to allow an image to be properly evolved. 
 The supply of the ' latest novels ' being so prodigious as to prohibit a second reading of 
 any book, the reader comes to rest satisfied with very hazy mental ' negatives.' 
 
 Another tendency of the mind in reading co-operates with this. In accordance with 
 the law of familiarity and repetition, and lapse of the means from consciousness, it is 
 probable that in reading a great deal to one's self, the mind has a tendency to grasp the 
 ideas stimulated by the words without the phonetic side of the words evev rising in, 
 consciousness, much less ever being dwelt upon for the pleasure accompanying it. School- 
 boys are often able to translate a foreign or dead language, viz., get at the ideas in English 
 form, without paying any attention to the ring of the Words in the language they cannot 
 understand directly as they read. And if given to reading very much by himself in his 
 own language, a boy will often mispronounce a word that is very familiar to him in 
 reading as far as its idea is concerned. A foreigner will sometimes read Shakespeare with 
 ease so far as understanding is concerned, but fail so ridiculously in pronouncing it as 
 to make us doubt very much whether he can appreciate its phonetic poetry— the sensuous 
 expression of force, or majestic swing, or tonal beauty or weirdness or fantasy. All of 
 which goes to show that, as the blind-deaf may read by tactual sensations, so it is possible 
 by very much rapid reading to one's self to establish a correspondence between eye and 
 intellect that partly suppresses the purely phonetic or vocal side of language— a side that 
 is very important in art-literature and in the discrimination of naturalism in expression. 
 This is sometimes brought home to us in a roundabout way. 
 
 In reading Greek plays after modern novels and plays, one is struck by the « wordiness ^ 
 of the characters, particularly when keeping before one the lack of acted action on the 
 Greek stage. Aside from the lengthy narratives of the 'messenger ' in the Greek dramas, 
 there are often long speeches, some of them in regular forensic array. The persons often 
 speak at length in cases where the circumstances, according to their own accounts, demand 
 instant action on their parts— therein showing a sang froid and lack of initiative that 
 would make the spectators of a modern melodrama simply wild. Irf fact, a modern reader 
 is liable to lose patience a little at the forensip delays, or else find the plays very insipid. 
 
 L Z 
 
14g THE STYLE 6FTHE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 The Greek audience, on the contrary, is said to have hung upon the words of the actofsy 
 and moderns who read Greek with perfect ease continually remind ns of the wonderful 
 qualities of the Greek language, not only for the grandeur of the ideas expressed, hut also 
 for its phonetic face-value. If the ancient Greeks were great talkers* it is probable they 
 were good listeners as well, that is, they were probably sensitive to, and interested in, a 
 part of language that we are not so sensitive to, nor so tolerant of — beauty in the means ot 
 expression and the mode of expression, quite apart from the relevancy or the scientific 
 accuracy involved in the ideas expressed. The Greek mind was not only 'plastic' as 
 regards the visual vividness of their images, but ' plastic' also as regards the phonetic side" 
 of the means of arousing these images. The resonant Stage is characteristic of the ancient 
 Greek ; the novel and scientific treatise/absorbed by silent perusal, is characteristic of the 
 modern. 
 
 To sum up, then. Our minds, in reading, having a tendency to lapse from a condition 
 of visual and phonetic 'plasticity' or clairvoyance, and vividness of representation being 1 
 the main way by which a lack of naturalness or. of artistic consistency evince? itself, our 
 minds spontaneously lack the criterion that would reject such an absurd general situation 
 as that proposed by a modern figure, in a modern scenic, setting, employing a highly 
 artificial form of poetic diction in the direct discourse of dialogue. 
 
 Page 25. General Situation Proposed by an Art-Work. 
 
 From what has been said it might be thought that all poetry dealing with modern 
 life and feelings was absurd. Now this is the whole point of the matter of General 
 Situation in Art- Works ; it is not what is expressed, but the form in which it is set and 
 what the art-work proposes to be. This ' proposing to be ' is a dramatic moment for art- 
 works.. We are all familiar with the idea in everyday life. For instance, a hypocrite 
 would only be an ordinary venial sinner, were it not that he ' proposed to be ' one of the 
 pillars of society upon a moral platform that is not really his. Certain acts of a noted 
 poet have been severely condemned that would never haye been noticed had he enjoyed 
 the privileges of the ordinary man who does not trouble himself to produce anything out 
 of the ordinary for human good. Again, it would be a waste of time to criticise the 
 "naturalism" of a stained-glass window, permeated with lines of opaque lead half-an- 
 inch in thickness. But when a workman, with a pompous show of superiority of the 
 modems, carefully paints for a glass window what ' proposes to be ' a landscape by every 
 line and colour in it, so that it is highly praised for its " remarkable fidelity to nature," then 
 it is really worth the while to hurl a few critical thunderbolts at such a Titan of stupidity. 
 
 With the foregoing ideas in mind, approach Shelley's Prometheus, Goethe's poem 
 " Edel sei der Mensch," and his Hermann und Dorothea. The first work, by the scenic 
 setting, formally proposed by its ideas, its language and its general tone, makes us feel 
 at once that it does not " propose to " present modern life at all. The second work, 
 Goethe's poem "das Gattliche," is thoroughly modern in sentiment and in its philo- 
 sophical attitude ; it is directly addressed to modern readers ; but it does not, from the 
 first line to the last, suggest either that the poet Goethe is addressing us in conver- 
 sational discourse, nor that some Tom, Dick, and Harry are chanting these sentiments . 
 to each other in alternate verses in the definite scenic setting of Piccadilly Circus. If 
 it suggests any of the conditions of its delivery, it is that of a thinker who has 
 carefully put forth in writing some ideas of a noble kind, sufficiently exalted to 
 justify a somewhat more careful choice of words than that of everyday conversation. 
 The third work proposes, as it begins and developes, a perfec:ly assigrable locality 
 in terrestrial space and a definite period of history — a- modern period of which we 
 have a pretty definite idea. The acting characters are put forward, the composing poet 
 sinks himself completely into the background. (Contrast Byron in Childe Harold, and 
 Thackeray in Vanity Fair.) In so far the situation does not differ essentially from one of 
 Chaucer's " Canterbury " tales in indirect discourse, but the next step, in a moment and 
 completely* changes the whole general, situation proposed. The characters are posited as 
 
NOTES. 149; 
 
 speaking in direct discourse with one another, and the very words and sentences are given 
 with the " I," « you," " they," etc., of one's personal relations towards his words. Now, , 
 the form of the language works on our minds, .and, whereas formerly metre and rhyme 
 seemed to be a perfectly natural and allowable part of the proposal of the work to be an 
 art-work, now the metre and rhyme ' propose to bq ' the ordinary features of humble con- 
 versation, employed by a well-known people in a particular part pf Europe about a century 
 ago ! By this proposal of a certain general situation, naturalistic criticism of the mind is 
 involuntarily challenged, and the poem must suffer for it. Whether it can compensate,, 
 us sufficiently for this lack of lingual probability is another question. Whether such a 
 
 feature be entirely fatal to our enjoyment of the work is not the question, but rather 
 
 dues it not detract from what might otherwise be a greater effect. 
 
 Of course, this particular poem is not afflicted with rhyme ; however, the final trochaic , 
 jerk of each line is an all-sufficient recompense for the absence of the seducing couplet. • 
 The whole poem has a very classical ring with its frequent Homeric " Also sprachen " 
 (die Manner), and " Aber es sassen " (die Drei), and " Da versetzte " (der Vater), etc., etc. 
 One is reminded of the German translator Voss, whose idyll Luise enjoyed being trans- 
 lated from the German into Latin, B. G. Fisher, 1820. 
 
 To appreciate the above point concerning Goethe's Hermann, the reader must go to 
 the original. By taking big doses at a sitting, he can emphasise the impression, for the 
 pompous epical tramp of the hexameter grows a little monotonous, especially when em- 
 ployed by the Herr Apotheker. " Schwerlich, versetzte darauf der Apotheker mit 
 Nachdruck," etc. Or, " Und es versetzte darauf die kluge, verstand'ige Hausfrau ; Vater^'- 
 nicht gerne verschenk ich die abgetragene Leinwand," etc. 
 
 There is yetanother general situation proposed by many modern poems. It is particularly 
 prevalent in collections of poems for purposes of recitation. This type of situation is not 
 divulged by any explicit prologue of setting, but opens usually in the midst of an exciting 
 scene, or else answers a question which it repeats or leads the hearer to imagine. The 
 general situation posited is that of direct discourse in the mouth of the one reciting the 
 poem, or the suppositional' narrator in case the poem is read to himself by the contetn- 
 plator. Here again we are face to face with language " proposing to be " the spontaneous 
 aud natural language of the narrator, a diction that is sometimes highly artificial in the 
 matter of metre, rhyme, poetic imagery aud out-of-the-ordinary words. The style, with 
 proper gestures, is often employed to render a story of an exciting escape more harrow- 
 ing, or a sailor's yarn, or how an exciting horse-race was won, or a train saved by 
 little Annie, etc., etc. Often amusing pseudo-naturalistic turns are thrown in, such as an 
 effort necessary to remember a date exactly, but such touches of human fallibility never 
 seriously interfere with the scansion and integrity of the rhyme-scheme. Begarded as an 
 impromptu performance by an unprofessional storyteller they are marvels of the rhapsodist's 
 art. Such a general situation is susceptible of a yet more intricate turn when, by the use 
 ' of " he said," " she said," and their words quoted in direct discourse, we get a storyteller 
 relating some event from modern life in perfect rhymed verse, and quoting from memory 
 the lyric effusions of his modem characters, who must also have been expert in the use of 
 rhymed verse under the tryiDg circumstances of a narrow escape, a shipwreck, a horse-race, 
 or an attack by redskins. The quoted lispings of children often display the same infantine 
 regard for the exigencies of rhymed vers?. Some of E. Browning's poetry suggests an 
 attempt by a scholar to exploit the tone of ordinary conversation for poetical purposes. 
 One of the most striking cases of ' general situation proposed ' is that of a modern novel 
 thrown into form of a tale in direct discourse with colloquial tone, the telling devolving on 
 one of two persons or a party of persons, who add to the attempted realism by interpolating 
 exclamations, questions, etc. This frequently takes the form of a meeting between two 
 " old friends " and a working up to the narrative by more or less natural remarks. When 
 the story thus told does not occupy two volumes, the effect of the viva voce narrative may 
 be justifiably vivid. In poetic diction it savours of the ridiculous. 
 
 The following quotation from P. G. Ha'merton concerning a different art may make 
 clearer this point of Style in connection with what an art- work proposes to be. - 
 
150 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 " The inconvenience of imitative art from the imaginative point of view is most visible ^ 
 in those works that attempt to combine fact with imagination. The best instance of this 
 was a pictur-e by Ger6me, in the Salon of 1868 : it wag entitled The Poet touched by the 
 Muse, and it represented a gentleman, in the costume of Lamartine's youth, reclining at 
 ease on the sea-shore. He was painted with praiseworthy accuracy and truth, down to his 
 short whiskers, his cravat, the high collar of his cloak, his buttons, and his boots — the 
 boots, in particular, being a perfect fit, and evidently as good as new. The Poet had laid 
 down his hat and gloves with his cane, and was contemplating the sea, when the Muse, 
 bearing her lyre, put her forefinger on his curly occiput. This is the reason why the sea- 
 shore was crowded with female beauty. Venus, standing on the crest of a wave, and a score 
 of lovely attendants disporting themselves where land and water meet Neptune, too, is 
 coming shorewards with his white horses, and all for the entertainment of the gentleman in 
 boots ; rude nature being represented by a flock of seals on his right hand, but to these he 
 pays no attention. A picture of this kind is really little less than a disaster, because it 
 mixes the most incongruous elements, modem tailoring and antique mythology, and also 
 because it gives, fiction, without making it credible and acceptable by any ideality of 
 .conception or of treatment." 
 
 Page 115. Situation of Choral or Concerted Expression. 
 
 The ' duett situation 'has been cultivated in Opera, and might be quite justifiable in the 
 Music-Drama also, providing the dramatic action were made to demand it quite naturally. 
 Wagner certainly recognised in his art-works the highly lyrical character of a situation in 
 which the emotion of love played a large part, and in which the emotions of all the persons 
 present were approximately similar or sympathetic. (Cf. Eienzi; Flieg. Bol., ii. 3; 
 Loheng.,m. 2 ; Tdnnh., ii. 2 ; Tristan, ii. 2 ; Meisters., iii. 3 ; Walkiire, i, 4 ; Siegf., iii. 3; 
 Gotterd., i. 1.) 
 
 It is as if the homogeneity of feeling at such points admitted a concentration of atten- 
 tion thereupon by allowing the musical themes to be more fully developed to their musical 
 consequences than is possible in the somewhat broken phrasing where the dialogue does 
 not spring from an extended homogeneous emotional situation. Of course, the situation of 
 one character speaking by himself displays ' homogeneity of feeling,' but the opportunity for 
 Music to exploit such a status quo is marred by the serious suggestions of improbability of 
 a person soliloquising in the regular form of a song or in lyric expression at all. At any 
 rate, it seems probable that a situation marked by the homogeneity of the sentiments of all 
 persona actively concerned constitutes one of those art-moments which are the necessary 
 antecedent of a ' concerted piece.' If the conditions implied in Canons A and B are com- 
 pletely fulfilled in the action, etc., such situations may form an essential feature of the 
 Music-Drama, although they have no place whatever in the Spoken Drama. They may 
 occur as often as an action, conceived to the end of naturally requiring them, might de- 
 mand. This implies, if carefully weighed, that such choral or concerted situations would 
 not interrupt the action, i.e. the action would naturally require them, and hence would be 
 one differing from that of ordinary dramas. As a feature of the Style of the Music-Drama, 
 such concerted situations must be accounted as not only highly peculiar, but also peculiar 
 in the direction of Music- -bringing out its possibilities in the direction of harmony and . 
 severe rhythm, which render such a synchronous expression of feeling possible. But the , 
 conditions imposed by Canons A, B, and D are absolutely essential, and in the non-fulfil- 
 ment of these conditions lay much of the inconsistency of chorus and sextett situations in 
 operas. Once the whole action is quite different from the outer aspects of modern every- 
 day life, and of a lofty character, and conceived from beginning to end in terms of Music, 
 viz. as a peculiar action,. such choral situations may be rated as one of the finest features 
 of the Style as distinguished from that of the Spoken Drama. It is possible, however,- 
 that the Oratorio may claim the choral situation as most peculiarly fitted to its Style.. 
 Wagner notably avoided concerted situations to a great extent in Tristan and the Sing, 
 and possibly this may be explained by the nature ojf fche materials or -myths, or by the 
 
tfOTES. 151 
 
 severity of bis reformatory exigencies, or by his high-wrought desire for dramatic intensity,- 
 unity and consistency. After Parsifal, it seems possible that, could he have outlived the 
 paltry crying-down of his works and have carried on his art-aGtivity until those keen 
 •dramatic' tendencies so necessary for his reforms had quieted a little, he might have 
 entered spontaneously into a field more pronounced in its musical or lyric quality than 
 Siegfried, for instance. In the beginning of his career, it was of the greatest importance 
 for his reforms to adhere olosely to a dramatic spirit that would evade all suggestions of 
 the current operas with which his works would have been spontaneously compared by the 
 minds of the auditors, much to ihe detriment of the serious «rc-operatic tone aimed at 
 in them. With all his justifiable severity of minimising ensemble pieces, Siegfried 
 remains the only one of his dramatic works totally lacking a choral situation. 
 
 In order that such choral situations should be demanded, an action would be required 
 that arrived at certain stations where the homogeneity of the feelings of the persons con- 
 cerned was such as to justify a concerted form of expression to a point of agreement 
 connoting severe rhythmic and harmonic agreement. "With this homogeneity of emotional 
 impulse, and a situation avoiding suggestions of everyday life, concerted expression would 
 be justified to any extent sanctioned by the unity of the dramatic action. Of course, such 
 an action would hardly depend for its aesthetic effect upon arousing any dramatic thrill 
 comparable to that aimed at by strictly naturalistic Drama. The general aesthetic effect 
 of the action would be far less exciting, viz. much more sobei^and sculpturesque and mixed 
 with musical elements. This is probably the differentiated general aesthetic impression that 
 ought to characterise the Music-Drama. In connection with this festival quietude, notice 
 that, although Canon G prescribes severe unity of dramatic development, the purpose of 
 this unity was that of ensuring ease of comprehension, and not, as in the case of a realistic 
 play, of aiding in rendering the play more thrillingly effective. In this last effect, the 
 opera Traviata does not reach the play Camille, upon which the text is founded, and the 
 Music-Drama hardly aims at reaching the thrill (such as it is) of Traviata. But therefor 
 it enjoys a compensation that must be felt to be appreciated. Grant that the Music-Drama 
 cannot affect us like a modern melodrama or novel. Grant that we are not as keenly 
 interested in the sorrows of Wotan, Siegmund or Piegfried as we may be in those of Lord 
 Sporting and his two offspring. Grant that the deeds committed in the Music-Drama are 
 enacted in a way that is tame as compared With the violent slaughter of characters in 
 Shakespeare. Grant that we suffer no pangs and palpitations of expectancy at unforeseen: 
 catastrophes of plot. Admit all this, and there still remains to the Music-Drama a 
 worthy compensation for its renunciation, in the pre-eminent factors of highest conceivable 
 poetic beauty, pictorial beauty, dramatic dignity, and beauty and mystery of Music. 
 With such a recompense for renounced sensationalism, the Music-Drama can well justify 
 its claims for existence as a desirable dramatic species. 
 
 The Music-Drama does not cultivate the field of plot-interest solely. This is a difficult 
 point to grasp, because we are accustomed to a view of the dramatic idea that "centres 
 itself about plot interest, and mystery, and thrill, to the degree that we find difficulty in 
 conceiving of dramatic action as displaying at one and the same time a severe dramatic 
 unity and an epical face-value in all parts. Yet this very feature characterises many of 
 Shakespeare's plays, for they not only have a dramatic value, taken as a whole, but also 
 display a beauty and poetic force in the details of the dialogue. Thus Midsummer Night's 
 Dream is quite interesting enough in the plot to engage our attention throughout a play 
 which is marked by a lofty poetic imagery in the detailed dialogue, even to the point of 
 lyric beauty at times. Just so a ' scene ' may be beautiful in the pictorial sense, and yet 
 be an essential feature of the action of which it forms a part. It reminds one of the pre- 
 dicament of ,a modern novelist, namely, how can he make a work that holds his reader, 
 without being obliged to resort to the swamps of moral impurity or physical filth or 
 volcanoes of sensationalism for the detailed treatment. But just as a drama may be con- 
 ceived within the bounds of pictorial beauty, providing it be thus conceived ab initio, so it 
 may be possible to conceive an action, stamped by unity of dramatic development, in-terms 
 of expression- aesthetically pleasing in ail parts. Such a combination would be the- very 
 
182. THE STYLE Of. THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 opposite of a novel depending solely for its effect upon the thrilling qualities of the plot/ 
 and employing the most drastic means in its service. Or a stage play with a remarkable 
 plot interest, but sinking to a very low grade in its elaboration thereof. Excerpts taken, 
 here and there from such works in a way to eliminate the plot interest would possess 
 no ' face-value ' whatever ; in fact, might be unfit for contemplation. Can we hope for 
 composer-poets who will be willing to renounce the fame of successful ' first works ' and 
 'first nights,' and carefully submit themselves to a personal development, to the end of 
 attaining a perfect equation between the aesthetic medium of the Music-Drama and its 
 final form and effect? It will mean that the tragic factor will be constructed upon much 
 broader lines than an exciting novel or melodrama, and yet will not possess that purely 
 sensuous attraction of the formal decorative arts or formal music. It will strive after and 
 reconcile both effects, and thereby labour in a field sanctioned by its wielding a sensuous 
 art, Music, and a supersensuous art, Drama. 
 
 Page 55. Reversal of Order of Presentation of Images or of Situations. Drama. 
 
 A queer case arising from the reversal of images has lately been furnished by running 
 the photographic films in a reversed order in the apparatus called the American Biograph, 
 For instance, the reversal of a scene in which a man takes off his coat and drops his silk 
 hat on the floor, gives both articles of attire rising of their own accord into place, showing 
 the entirely prejudiced way in which gravity acts, in that, while it may be depended upon 
 for depositing an article released from the hand, it is by no means accommodating in the 
 reverse movement of replacing the article. A phonograph, in which the forward movement 
 of the cylinder is reversed, is said to produce a very amusing reversal of ordinary speech. 
 By dwelling upon such cases of features that completely lose their integrity by a reversal 
 of their order of succession, the reader will get a vivid idea of the importance of a particular 
 order of the images or the presentations of sense in some kinds of art-works, and of the 
 impossibility of qhanging their order without altering their effect, often for the worse. 
 
 Page 40. Attention as a Factor in ^Esthetic Contemplation. 
 
 Attention is an important factor in the aesthetic contemplation of the Music-Drama. 
 It is truly said, that ' we see what we lo.ok for,' and ' those learn who already know.' In 
 regard to the possibility of attending to a multitude of sensations, it probably depends 
 somewhat upon familiarity with things attended to, and also upon practice. It is remark-' 
 able how, in listening to music when the mind is over active or excited, the mind can 
 pass from one thing to another with a rapidity that almost amounts to insuring a con- 
 sciousness of several different things at one time. It would almost seem that since 
 familiarity and practice are all that is necessary to cope with multiplicity of stimuli, there- 
 fore no limit to the complexity of a Music-Drama or any work of art is necessary. But, 
 although it is possible, under certain abnormal and fortunate circumstances, to accomplish 
 wonders in the feat ot multiplex distribution of attention, yet it is not expedient that art- 
 works should demand any such familiarity, memorising, practice, effort, and excitement, 
 as is associated with attempts at multiplex consciousness. The mind does not naturally 
 and voluntarily undertake tours of force in contemplating art-works, for the reason that it 
 does not resort to art-works for great nervous stress or hard labour. Moreover, it is easy 
 to deceive one's self regarding the efficiency of ' familiarity, excitement, and practice' in 
 insuring consciousness of simultaneous stimuli and ideas. Both familiarity and practice 
 are dangerously implicated in that sort of mental 'automatic action' that simply allows 
 us to be insensible to several stimuli, and mental excitement of any kind (especially the 
 cutaneous shiver) is easily mistaken for assthetic gratification. 
 
 As regards a pecul ar effect of familiarity upon musical audition it seems possible that 
 the following may suggest an explanation. Subtle, or violent, or unfamiliar tonal modu- 
 lations sometimes confuse and perplex one at first hearing, but seem perfectly clear and 
 satisfying after several auditions. It is as if the mind was gradually persuaded of the 
 Tightness of the harmonic progressions in themselves, or that it was apprehending them 
 as intended by the composer, and ended in being perfectly satisfied that the progressions 
 
NOTES. 153 
 
 were proper, and were rightly apprehended, and hence gives itself up unconditionally to 
 assthetic enjoyment. So potent does the effect of repeated hearings of a work seem to be 
 that it will sometimes insure the apprehension of phrasing and harmonic progression where 
 both are confused and rendered cloudy by bad performance. The auditor might finally 
 become shockingly undiscriminative as regards the actual performance. 
 
 [Just as a foreknowledge of the words may enable an auditor of a Shakespearian play 
 to "hear," although he be so far removed from the stage that the words would be partly 
 indistinguishable without the aid of memory as a determinant. Likewise, under strong 
 stress of excitement at a play, the senses seem to acquire a super-sensitiveness that enables 
 one to follow intently what might otherwise be somewhat vague. Nevertheless, in spite 
 of the efficacy of complete familiarity or of excitement under certain circumstances, it will 
 not do for the composer-poet to depend upon, or assume, the presence of such abnormal 
 conditions.] 
 
 Page 69. Pure Lyric Drama. Note 
 
 If it could be safely assumed and taken for granted the whole audience were not only 
 familiar with the underlying idea of the action (somewhat like the Greek audience as 
 regards the mythical events underlying a Greek tragedy), but also quite familiar with the 
 detailed course of events presented by a particular Music-Drama, it seems possible that the 
 Music- Drama might develop a style yet further removed from Spoken Drama. The poet-- 
 composer might devote himself wholly to conceiving a purely lyric text, devoid of all 
 explanatory dialogue or any expressions appealing to the discriminating or ratiocinating 
 faculties, since no revelations of the progress of the action wonld be required by the 
 omniscient audience. The text might be greatly reduced in proportions, and would consist 
 wholly of lyric expressions of feelings ; in fact, so thoroughly lyrical that it would inspire the 
 composer at every step to develop the resources peculiar to his art. He would be no 
 longer concerned with what is irrelevant to the nature of music and lyric expression. That 
 elucidatory dialogue does assume the appearance of ' stuffing ' is evinced by libretto books. 
 (Of. text of Gluck's Alcestis, &c.) There is a certain amount of the dialogue devoted to the 
 elucidation of the ' situation,' that makes itself felt upon perusing a large number of text- 
 books of operas, for one is struck and amused by certain practices of the librettists — certain 
 cut-and-dried ways of setting things straight by means of wittily turned dialogue, question 1 
 and answer (as in Greek plays) so ingeniously and palpably arranged to illuminate the 
 benighted audience regarding status quo of affairs, that one smiles at the device. These : 
 cases of naive mannerism will usually be found to mark the most unlyrical parts of the 
 text, and the music takes a corresponding ' drop.' 
 
 It is difficult to imagine how such features of dramatic action could be entirely elimi- 
 nated, since they seem to be an essential factor in the art-enjoyment of Drama, although' 
 subtleties of development of action appeal predominantly to the intellect. The pleasure 
 taken in following plot-development as it reveals itself by dialogue would seem to be 
 allied to that keen pleasure an Athenian audience took in the 'forensic contest' portions 
 of its dramas, and interest in close-knit development of action by dialogue seems an 
 essential feature of Drama. Moreover, even if foreknowledge of the audience could be 
 fully depended upon to render all ' explanatory ' dialogue unnecessary, it seems almost as if 
 the resulting drama would assume a vague dream-like form in which the mental jumps 
 occasioned by poetical use of hiatus would suggest the incomplete character which pure 
 pantomimic performances display. It would approximate perhaps to a tone-picture pure 
 and simple. However, without concrete examples it would be difficult to form an opinion 
 of the possible merits of such a highly specialited development of the style of the Music*- 
 Drama. 
 
 Wagner's brilliant use of condensed narrative and bis concentration of action upon 
 certain points is an approximation to pure lyric drama. 
 
 Page 35. Canon A. Note 
 
 The idea associated with this is very closely allied to an idea applied to ornamental 
 design, viz. the idea of' conventional' design. Both ideas denote a departure from an 
 accurate reproduction of life or nature, but for a different reason, and in a different way. 
 
154 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 A. photographic reproduction of 'Windsor Castle in the bottom of a tea-oup is as bad as a/ 
 stage representation of a 'drawing-room' with expression of compliments by chorus in 
 evening-dress. 
 
 It will be found that many of the principles here broached are of much wider applica- 
 tion in the consideration of all kinds of art-activity than might appear possible. (Cf. 
 Questions, parts C and D.) 
 
 Note 10. Page 35. " Artificiality " as an Obnoxious Idea. Art and Life. 
 
 Some persons may feel alarmed at this use of an idea that has fallen very much into 
 disrepute in the judgment of art-works in late years. It would hardly be worth while to 
 point out the many and varied ideas associated with the word ' artificial ' and to attempt 
 a definition of its noxious and innocent phases respectively. It carries with it some un- 
 pleasant reminiscences of the wig-period of Art, as well as the crinoline and corkscrew 
 curls of the present century. However, those who have studied art-works of all kinds, will 
 be quite familiar with the legitimate occurrences of artificiality, especially in connection 
 with the ' unavoidable symbolism ' of Fainting (cf. Note 18) ; the unavoidable and even 
 sought-for artificiality known as conventionalism in reference to Decorative Art ; and finally 
 that recognised feature of art-works, that they, being products of human industry, skill, 
 feeling, and mind, are ' artificial,' especially as regards an art so original in conception and 
 execution as Music. 
 
 The application of the term to the Music-Drama (when it is said to be a 'highly 
 artificial product' and 'necessarily different from everyday life') will be understood by 
 anyone who has seen a performance and has grasped the predetermined unnaturalness of 
 the ' general situation ' as described on p. 9. If the reader be still obdurate, and troubled 
 by that wholesome but narrow phrase " the artist should go to Nature," he may find some 
 help in the following considerations : — 
 
 (1) In art-works it is expedient to observe if idealisation is accompanied by a plain 
 suggestion of whether the art-work proposes to be naturalistic, or does not even pretend 
 to be. 
 
 (2) Whether the idealisation shows itself clearly to have been intentional on the part 
 of the artist, or not. 
 
 (3) Whether the idealism was rendered unavoidable by the nature of the art-process 
 and the purpose of the a p t-work, or not. 
 
 (4) Whether the idealism is justified, i.e. whether the aesthetic gratification attributable 
 to the idealisation is a sufficient recompense for the lack of a greater naturalism (provided 
 the art-process or the • general situation ' rendered a higher degree of naturalism possible), 
 or not. 
 
 It may interest the reader to apply the foregoing considerations to the case of a pen- 
 and-ink drawing in which the artist has allowed his manual skill in pleasing pen-strokes 
 to participate in the general effect, and to the case of a Japanese print in which the artist 
 has allowed his sense of pleasing coUiur-areas, or effective black-and-white masses to pre-' 
 dominate over a severer naturalism that was possible. 
 
 In regard to the Music-Drama, points (3) and (4) find special application, since, by it* 
 general situation of lyric dialogue and orchestral accompaniment, it is irretrievably stamped 
 as highly ' unnatural,' and its contemplators must decide whether the presence of music 
 and all the resulting peculiarities of elevated style attendant thereon are a sufficient recom- 
 pense for the renounced naturalistic imitation of contemporary life to justify the extreme 
 degree of idealism or ' artificiality ' displayed. 
 
 This suggests a further scruple that troubles some persons. Prom the sad failures 
 revealed by the History of Art, in artists dealing with any but then- own particular epoch) 
 the conclusion is drawn that anything like recourse to costumes, &c, unlike those worn 
 at the present time, is not only doomed to failure, but is also a phase of that dangerous 
 tendency to Medievalism that must be expunged. The first point is sufficiently dealt 
 with in the text.' The second point is merely a refusal to recognise that it is possible 
 
NOTES. 155 
 
 to admire greatly the works of Chaucer or of Fra Angelico, and even to introduce a 
 costume of the Middle Ages into a painting, without wishing to revert to the Feudal 
 System, or the use of spear and sword in war, or of a pre-Luther Catholicity in religion. 
 The theoretical writings of Wagner thoroughly separate him from the 'Nazarenes' in 
 painting, and it is even possible that they formed a link in the progress of Art less virulent 
 than is made out by those who put the separation of Art and Beligion on exactly a par 
 with the separation of State and Keligion. 
 
 Page 15. Art and Religion. Note 11. 
 
 *' The tone in which Euripides says, « Zeus, whoever Zeus may be,' belongs to a diffe- 
 rent strain of agnosticism. He has come to think of Zens as a conventional symbol for 
 ' Laws of Nature.' . . . The state of mind in which men listened greedily to the tales of 
 priest and prophet, and yet reasoned about them, wavering "between belief and scepticism, 
 is difficult to apprehend, and yet bears some analogy to the mental condition of a time 
 like our own, in which, for many reasons, a musical ritual serves as the euthanasia of 
 positive beliefs, and a learned curiosity about the origin and history of religion is taking 
 the place of a strong and active faith." — A Guide to Greek Tragedy, by Lewis Campbell. 
 
 Page 54. Idealism and Modernity. Mote 12. 
 
 Idealism may be regarded as an escape from the aspects of our daily life. For this 
 tendency three reasons may be given. 
 
 1. The outer aspects of our everyday life are not beautiful. Painters and. sculptors feel 
 this in the difficulties of handling modern costume. Ecclesiastical costume offers a slight 
 escape for painters as well as the other extreme — rustic costume without any of the ele-. 
 gancies of fashionable ' cut.' Cf. Millet, Sower, and Gleaners, In the heat of reactionary 
 tendencies, we may say what we please about the equalness in artistic merit of costumes. 
 There are cesthetic differences. It seems probable that Greek sculpture would not have 
 attained that remarkable spontaneous development had the costume been that of the 
 Esquimaux. So sculpturesque was the Greek costume as depicted in sculpture, that it has 
 held its place in Art down to the modern travesties ifpon it. 
 
 2. However, the chief artistic disability of modern costume, and other distinctive 
 features of modern life, is that they prevent idealisation. Not only is modern costume not 
 artistic, it has its associations of familiarity with everyday life that prevent it being 
 poetical. Mental association renders an art-work, absurd that attempts to combine the 
 dress-suit with lofty diction in dialogue of direct discourse. It immediately recalls our 
 friend Brown, or Jones, or White, and induces a feeling of anti-climax. It therefore does 
 not satisfy — 
 
 3. Our craving for highest imaginable beauty — for poetic perfection, as distinguished 
 from the imperfections and distress of actual life. The mind can arrive at something 
 pleasanter to think about than actual existence, and it is this side of Art that enthusiasts 
 for modern life as an art-theme often miss. Art has a differentiated side of its own, and 
 arts like Music and Architecture offer sensuous experiences that would not be attainable in 
 the absence of these arts, and it is a general feature of Art that it justifiably departs from 
 other features of human activity in order to furnish the mental variety of stimulation in a 
 novel manner. After looking at a collection of paintings of actual life, the mind enjoys 
 looking at pictures that represent something else than actual life, and it is possible to enjoy 
 intensely both the beauty of natural scenery and the beauty of a symphony. How many 
 men throughout the ages have taken a delight in escaping from cares of everyday life by 
 reading their Homer, or Virgil, or Bible ! 
 
 Painters often avoid present ugliness by painting indefinitely, by paying attention to 
 light and shade effects, and effects of light rather than hard forms. Both poets and 
 painters escape by depicting other phases of life than our own— oriental scenes, historical- 
 genre, mediieval, or classic themes. The names of Goethe, Schiller, Delaroche, John Gilbert, 
 EoBselti, Burne Jones, Hoknan Hunt, Albert Moore, Leighton, and Boecklin recur to us in 
 
156 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DHAMA. 
 
 this connection, and this century has seen a great and sincere widening of appreciation of 
 the works of art of the past— Chaucer, Spencer, Dante, JSschylus, Gothic Architecture, the 
 paintings of the pre-Kaphaelites, Northern epics. Much of modern art has been an appre- 
 ciation of the neglected primitive emotions of our nature — of those pure human and more 
 universal emotions that are less associated with modern legal restrictions of city life, 
 society elegance, careless frivolity,, and pedantic rationalism. This is no plea for returning 
 to the usages of primitive Scandinavian or Greek life, but only a suggestion of the recog- 
 nition of the cesthetic value of some features like pictorial costume, deep and sincere feelings, 
 awe of nature, sensuous mystery and spirituality. And it is just in the recognition of 
 some of the pure human feelings that lay a possibility of modernising ancient myths 
 which Richard Wagner seized as an opportunity, 
 
 As a rule Wagner kept quite free of human sacrifices and the apparatus of formal 
 oracle. These are features so far removed from our life, knowledge, and feelings, that they 
 can hardly appear natural when used by our poets, To us the idea is naive — that one can 
 know the future — know what is going to happen— know when he is to die, and then take 
 precautions against it. If fate meant anything, it would mean that which would happen 
 without fail and without any possibility of interference by man. 
 
 A great feature of Wagner's success ■above and beyond Gluck is his modernisation of 
 myth. It is astonishing that Wagner not only succeeded in employing myths as a pic- 
 turesquely ideal setting for his Music-Drama, but he also made them thoroughly modern 
 in feeling by developing that side which it was in his artistic power to develop— the inner 
 side of the outer incidents furnished by the myth (cf. Dante's artistic development of inner 
 side of life). His plays, unlike Gluck's Alceste and Iphigenie, do not turn on the cruel 
 sacrifices of past days, or upon caprices of the gods, &c. They are at one time aesthetic 
 and modern in feeling, they appeal to our own feelings. 
 
 In dealing with primitive myths it is difficult to avoid those cruel or unaBsthetic 
 phases of ritual, or those impersonal sentiments associated with clan system of social 
 association, of which Greek dramas display many 'vestiges' in spite of the dramatists 
 belonging to the city commonwealth system of aggregation. As a rule, Wagner success- 
 fully avoided the clan ethics and sentiments that sanctioned and condoned human sacrifices 
 as a formal and compulsory ritual. He also avoided much of that oracular apparatus 
 which hardly appeals to our minds as strongly as to the ancients perhaps, since it is so far 
 removed from our daily experience, scientific and religions ideas. He even succeeded to a 
 great extent in avoiding the difficulties offered by magic and the supernatural. 
 
 The importance of the consideration that the Music-Drama must be idealistic, and yet 
 modern, and that the reconciliation was rendered possible by recourse to the ' pure human' 
 feelings, is evinced by the survival of the fittest that took place in Wagner's own mind. 
 He had a good opportunity for testing the matter, for about the year 1848 he was occupied 
 with several subjects — a myth-theme, a religious theme, a romantic drama, a historical 
 theme. If Siegfried's Tod triumphed over Jesus von Nazareth, Wieland der Schmied, and 
 die Sarazenin in fair mental contest, it bespeaks much for the foregoing consideration. 
 
 Page 133. " Impressionism " in Scenery. 
 
 This is not the exact term wanted in this place, but it would take too much space to 
 draw distinctions. From the standpoint of naturalistic painting that aims at the reproduc- 
 tion of objects already existing in paintable attitudes, as in landscape painting, the Art 
 might be abstractly defined as follows. Painting is the cultivation and practice of the 
 most fitted modes of disposing the means (according to the particular art-process) that the 
 limited finiteness of means may suggest a maximum of those most important truths or. 
 facts of the infinity of nature, such mental suggestion to be effected with the minimum 
 expenditure of the contemplator's energy in mere work. Or, painting consists in the; 
 ability to suggest a maximum of concrete facts among the infinite number of Nature's 
 facts by the most fitted disposal of the very limited finite means of -pigmental- symbolism 
 with reference to the minimising of expenditure of energy of the spectator. 
 
NOTES. 157 
 
 It is not until one has grasped the vast discrepancy between the infinitude of facts of 
 a natural scene, however small, and the very limited finiteness of the means at the disposal 
 of the painter to suggest the scene, and further, that this is not a discrepancy in magnitude 
 only, hut in kind also, inasmuch as paints are totally unlike the materials, &c, of the 
 objects, &C, for which they stand — it is only when all this is grasped that one appreciates 
 what is meant by artistic suggestion regarded as a psychological process on the part of the 
 contemplator of the art-work. It is like that remarkable human invention of numbers 
 whereby any assignable number can be represented with ease— and all by the device of 
 permutations and combinations of ten signs only. 
 
 The importance of this idea for the present purpose is that it lays stress upon the device 
 of suggestiveness as a means of accomplishing the impossible,: which is exactly the 
 problem before scene-painters, in so far as their scenery deals with the outer aspects of 
 Nature. They have to suggest a very great deal with a very little, and with the minimum 
 expenditure of human energy consistent with the accomplishment of their effect. Anyone 
 who has had occasion to observe modern paintings must have been astonished at the' 
 wonderful effect of a painting at thirty feet distance when compared with the crude 
 material means by which the effect is attained. So^urprising is this at times that one can 
 hardly believe it possible, even when he steps towards and away from the picture several 
 times and observes that strange change from coarse daubs and streaks of paint at three 
 feet, to the effect of beautiful out-of-door Nature at twenty feet. Now, if this ingenuity in 
 suggestiveness be spontaneously practised by easel-painters, how much more expedient that 
 scene-painters should cultivate a manner that the scale and nature of their art renders 
 absolutely necessary. Moreover, a very bold style of treatment will probably be found to 
 agree best with the carrying out of a poetical conception upon the pictorial scale required 
 fey the dimensions of the stage, and the economy of human energy. This would hold par- 
 ticularly of highly imaginative scenery, and also for those effects of decorative dispositions 
 of figures and colours. In a modern exhibition of paintings it is often a pleasure to find a 
 painting that one may approach near without ruining the impress-ion. Of course, this 
 consideration has no meaning for stage pictures, since the distance of the spectator is pre-, 
 determined and sanctified, except for deplorably curious habitues of opera-glasses. 
 
 Page 7. Musical Symbolism and Emotional Chiaroscuro. 
 
 , Intimately connected with the foregoing disparity between the fulness of Nature and 
 the meagreness of the pigment-symbolisms employed to suggest Nature is the disparity 
 between ' feelings ' and those modes of musical expression which are employed in the 
 Music-Drama to express the feelings. I refer to the point that, whereas the feelings in 
 Drama range from intense pleasure to actual pain, the music expressing them is confined to 
 the very limited gamut of ' less pleasing' to ' more pleasing.' To make this clearer, take 
 an instance from the Graphic Arts. These employ a wide range of materials from the 
 rich palette of the easel-painting down to the delicate lines of the silver-point drawing. 
 Now, light and shade of Nature is represented in the monochrome processes by a conven- 
 tional symbolism of shading, ranging from the white paper down to the browns of an 
 etching, the blacks of pen-and-ink drawings, charcoal drawings, and printer's-ink of wood- 
 engravings. It will therefore be readily seen how amazing the process of suggestion is, 
 when the infinite gamut from sunlight to total darkness is replaced by a symbolism ranging 
 only from the white of paper by subdued light, and the greys or blacks and browns of 
 silver point, wood-engraving, and etchings. If the reader fully appreciates this point, he , 
 will be a long way towards appreciating the extraordinary role played by mere contrast in 
 music in expressing very different phases of emotion. Thus sudden loudness in the midst 
 of very soft tones is fairly startling in effect (cf. Oberon, overture), and so with all the 
 musical contrasts employed by musicians. This will serve to make clear the point alluded 
 to in the text, music need not be made to actually cause the hearer pain in order to suggest 
 suffering on the part of the persons of the drama. The suggestion is vivid enough if the 
 contrast between the music range from more pleasing to less pleasing, i.e. the gamut of 
 
158 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 * pleasure to pain ' in life is replaced in the ortf-work by a musical chiardscuro that goes no 
 deeper into the blacks than the greys of the silver point or steel-engraving, thereby fitly 
 marking that difference between the actual discomforts of life and their pleasing reflection 
 in an art-work — be it a painting, drama, or poem. Thus in a dramatic performance, " The 
 spectator is to be moved, eveD harrowed, if you will, but the final effect on him is not that 
 of anxious excitement. It is rather one of calm and meditative awe. If real belief took 
 the place of imaginative illusion, the charm would break. The mental satisfaction must 
 outweigh the horror. Harmony of impression must not be c "infused by actual pain. Ment 
 are not to be sent away sorrowful, nor merely excited, but satisfied, though it be with 
 sadness. . . . Hence tragedy always loses something When it leaves the high road of 
 humanity, and turns aside from representing the great primary emotions to engage with 
 some exceptional passion, some eccentric horror." — Lewis Campbell, in A Guide to Greek 
 Tragedy. 
 
 Note 15. Page 28. Music and feeling, Quality D. 
 
 In this connection, notice the way in which music has naturally been associated with 
 festivals and with the theatre ; also the way in which people have spontaneously come 
 to have images suggested in their minds by the hearing of music — mental images which 
 may add to the pleasure of the music, whether they be uniform for the whole audience or 
 not. A good deal of the orchestral music of this century spontaneously suggests many 
 fleeting images. Other music may not do so. 
 
 The weakness cf programme-music might be shown experimentally by exposing blind 
 persons to the effect of music and having them note the images excited by particular 
 portions and then comparing these results. Evidently, if the cases were those of blindness 
 from birth, the music could hardly excite those visual images required by some programme- 
 music. Yet such persons might experience a keen pleasure from the music, and possibly 
 they might even associate their own feelings, pleasurable or sad, therewith. But they 
 <Sould hardly have clear visual images stimulated by the music, having no necessary stock 
 of such available images. Tactual images would hardly suffice. 
 
 The foregoing imaginary case may serve also to give us a clearer idea of what is 
 meant by the expressions ' pure human ' and ' subjective ' as applied to the Music-Drama. 
 It is conceivable that a person born blind might enjoy the ordinary feelings of human 
 beings, and in ability to feel pleasure, pain, affection, sadness, love, and anger, he could 
 appreciate much of those universal experiences of mankind that are irrespective of race 
 and outer conditions of life. (Cf. reference to Tristan, Night, p. 71.) Such feelings would 
 be highly ' subjective,' in that they could be felt in the absence of a sensitiveness to or 
 knowledge of the visual qualities and conditions of the external world, viz., irrespective of 
 the existence of a great part of the objective world, in the sense of extra-ego world, and 
 particularly in the sense of such impersonal or ratiocinating events as a volcano outbreak, 
 a railway accident, the passage of a legislative bill, etc. 
 
 Note 16. P a g e 70. Subjectivism. 
 
 These terms Subjectivity and Humanistic are so often used in connection With this 
 subject, and have such important implications in poetry in general, that it is expedient to 
 attach some definite meaning to them. They attach themselves to the fundamental ideas 
 that have already been embodied in our Canons A and D. (1) Humanistic is opposed to 
 all that attaches itself to any particular time, place, or custom (A). It connotes that 
 which is " common to all " as opposed to " manners.'" It is< opposed to the social customs 
 of any particular historical period and to any treatment of such 'features such as is 
 implied by ' occasional ' poetry, so common in the ' complete works ' of modern poets. 
 yEsthetically it is opposed to that subject-matter which does not enjoy the possibility of 
 universal appreciation and comprehension. 
 
 This .leads naturally to the idea of subjectivity, because that subjeetrrnatiler which on 
 the whole is most " common to all," is founded upon feeling (.D) which can he apnroxi- 
 
notes: i5§ 
 
 innately the same under very different aspects of life and social usages. This would naturally 
 be that factor of art-works most capable of universal comprehension and appreciation. In 
 this sense, relating to feeling, the term is opposed both to that which is distinctively a pro- 
 duct of the intellect (reasoning powers) and to that which is ' outer ' in the sense of objective 
 to man. Poetry dealing with cold logic, and with inanimate nature in itself could hardly 
 be called subjective. It is in this sense of confined to human experience — or interiority— 
 that it is opposed to the objective events of melodrama and the adventure of epic. Such are 
 the meanings of these terms as employed in the present work. However, in order to feel 
 strongly the contrasts associated with the terms subjective and objective, it is well to read 
 examples of poetry that strongly contrast with some of the foregoing ideas, and such are 
 not difficult to find, since the history of poetry has many examples to show of the infringe- 
 ment of these features j in occasion-poetry (associated with laureateship), poetry relating 
 to events and phases of life strictly local in time and space ; descriptive poetry attempting 
 to reproduce the outer world of inanimate nature ; finally, didactic poetry, argumentative 
 poetry, moralising poetry, and ' witty ' poetry in general, especially epigrams. Much of 
 the poetry of the eighteenth century wi 1 furnish excellent examples, stronger than any 
 definitions that could be given. (Of. Pope's Epistles, moral essays, witty epitaphs and 
 rhymed satire.) 
 
 Page 35. On Style. JVbfe 17. 
 
 A view of Style as the broadest generalisation of the Philosophy of Art has been suggested 
 in Questions. In the present work it is not necessary to take such a broad biological view 
 of Art, nor to discuss whether a Style of the Music-Drama can spring out of the present ' 
 human environment* For present purposes Style is a, term connoting that condition of 
 harmony of an art-work most conducive to the particular assthstic gratification which 
 it is most adapted to offer by virtue of the activity of the particular factors entering into 
 it — their psychic qualities, etc. 
 
 By employing the term "sesthetio gratification" instead of Beauty, we avoid the 
 unpleasant difficulty of defining Beauty an sich selbst, or proposing an index expurgatorius 
 of beautiful objects and conceptions. We avoid giving to any one of the analysed elements 
 of art-works, such as outline, colour, or sound, a tyrannic monopoly of definable Beauty, 
 which for our purpose connotes no more than the summation of gratification arising from 
 the multitudinous stimuli of a peculiar kind (those associated with, the contemplation of 
 art-works) ajid arranged in a way most favourable to the cumulation^ the pkasurable 
 stimuli. 
 
 Thus ' aesthetic gratification ' is not an effect of the contemplation of the Beautiful (!) 
 solely, but applies to a cumulative effect that may be associated with the contemplation 
 of features of art, life, or nature, that are pronounced sublime, forcible, beautiful, pathetic, 
 picturesque, grotesque, or comic even. However, in spite of the usefulness of so general 
 a term and its application to effects of Music,, Drama, Architecture, etc., it is interesting to 
 retain the distinctions marked by the terms, sublime, beautiful, picturesque, etc. 
 
 We thus take up Style in two phases only of fitness : (1) A condition of fitness of art- 
 work to contemplator (auditor — spectator — reader) for a certain end (effect). (2) A fitness 
 of the art-product (art-work) to the activity of the means whereby it is produced, including 
 the psychic qualities of its constituent art-media (for the Music-Drama this means the 
 psychic and aesthetic qualities of the Music, Poetry, and Stage composing it). 
 
 As regards the nature of stimuli denoted ' aasthetic ' as distinguished from neural 
 stimuli in general, the criterion is only a common-sense sort of average of conclusions 
 reached after long and careful and unforced exposure of the mind to the sympathetic 
 contemplation of nature and art-works ; controlled by a careful, and as unprejudiced as 
 possible, reference to the art-products of the past,, and by the most carefully verified and 
 broadest generalisations possible from art-works of all kinds, of all countries, and all times 
 accessible J and lastly, by direct observations and laboratory experiments* If this is not 
 ' objective ' or dogmatic, enough to suit a stickler for absolute truth, let him propose a better 
 criterion for grateful and long-suffering students. 
 
160 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 Evidently the present work is, as a Whole, a protest against a very prevalent opinion 
 that Style consists solely in some little peculiarities in the use of words by various writers 
 ^-or in the particular 'brand ' of paper used by a water-colour artist. Biology has happily 
 disposed of the idea that the differences among organisms consist solely in the differences 
 between their general outlines and colour of hair (if any). For over two centuries the 
 bane of Architecture has been the prevalence of the idea that Style consisted solely in the 
 use of some particular forms and figures (which could be supplied in charts ready for use); 
 and that the way to invent a new Style was to sit down with pencil and paper, and extem- 
 porise forms of windows and arrangements of windows, until a facade was devised differing 
 entirely from any one previously known. Such a superficial line-on-paper, building-block 
 conception of Style is unworthy of an age that has realised what deep differences among 
 organisms underlie superficial traits, and knows how that, historically, architects have ob- 
 tained celebrity for their " Style " in designing, when they were really doing no more than 
 perpetrating the error of a ' poet ' in fancying that Poetry consists in rhyme and metre, and 
 that letters or conversations or witticisms or medical advice become Poetry the moment 
 they can be scanned and jingled. The architect that fancies he has devised a new ' Order ' 
 when he has drawn a column with large rusticated cubical blocks introduced at regular 
 intervals in the shaft is worthy of the friendship of the ' poet ' who cannot renounce his: 
 rhyming propensities long enough to write a letter or relieve his philosophical tension in 
 ordinary prose, or to compose an epitaph worthy the poetical dignity and the religious 
 solemnity of death. 
 
 Page 49. Artist and Environment. 
 
 This is merely a single phase of that interdependence of artist and his visible environ- 
 ment, nowadays generally recognised as a factor in the explanation of features of art- 
 activity in the history of Art. The modus operandi of this interdependence has been 
 dealt with by Taine in his work Intelligence ; in its historical aspects in his Philosophy 
 of Art and English Literature. If one realises deeply the difference between the daily 
 pabulum of impressions of everyday life of a sculptor in ancient Greece, a painter during 
 the picturesque periods of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, and of a modern sculptor' 
 or painter, he will be able to realise perhaps why Sculpture flourished so spontaneously 
 among the ancient Greeks, while among us it may be comrared to the artificial cult of a 
 dead language ; why colour is such a conspicuous feature of Medieval and Renaissance 
 painting ; why lyrical poetry and novels for solitary perusal, and music for public per- 
 formances are such conspicuous features of present-day Art. In Note 19 will be found 
 a reference to the attempt to cultivate a Colour-Art in an epoch or country in which life 
 is not pictorial. 
 
 Connected with the foregoing is the consideration that complete harmony or Style 
 depends upon a coincidence among a number of complicated factors — art-process, life, 
 artist, etc — a coincidence occurring seldom enough in the progress of Art to sanction that 
 feeling of the sacredness of the few great art-works displaying perfect Style. 
 
 Page 95. Unsought-for Originality and Poetic Impulse to Work, 
 
 The trouble with a good many modern artists is that they have nothing to say, and yet 
 keep on talking. It is quite wonderful to many persons to observe how easy originality is to 
 an artist who has something to say — a message to give to the world — an idea striving for 
 expression. In many cases artists are not at all enthusiastic about their art, nor are their 
 minds of a poetical nature — they are totally dull to qualities of nicety regarding forms, and 
 colour and nature of objects — they are not finely discriminative regarding the thousands of 
 objects that surround them in their every-day lives. People are astonished at the paintings 
 of Rossetti and Burne Jones. Modern English painters may work too much on detail, but, 
 at least* they realise the true field of painting as a highly poetical art — as an art most 
 highly differentiated from any natural or mechanical, productions in the direction' of more 
 choice; aesthetic pietorially, poetically, and morally. Like Wagner, the English pre- 
 
NOTES. 161: 
 
 Raphaelites seem to have felt what objects to select for depiction, and were endowed with a 
 fine imagination and* poetical natures. It makes one weary sometimes to look at a large 
 collection of reproductions of the works of various artists of Germany and France during 
 the last three decades, and note the lack of some of the above qualities. There are out- 
 rageous reproductions of the costume and Grecian bend of 1873 and thereabouts (cf. J. de 
 Nittis), great masses of pictures of peasant ugliness and filth, without any redeeming poetical 
 value, and not even * bold ' in their expression, all showing that dirt, and suffering, and 
 machinery are not necessarily highly picturesque or pictorial. It seems probable that a 
 landscape painter can afford to be much less discriminative about the objects he depicts 
 than a figure painter, for the latter is obliged to deal with the troublesome matter of 
 fashions in dress. Among the foregoing instances of painting without discrimination, may 
 be ranked the painting of vegetables, and bull-painting pure and simple. Then there are 
 the weak religious subjects, and the Parisian models posing as Madonnas with pounds of 
 circumambient cherub-flesh. There are the sprawling and suggestive naked figures being 
 deluged with waves, with a flimsy excuse of classical allusion, belied by the lack of idealism 
 in the figures. Or there is the group of figures adhering in vain to an environment that 
 does not seem to be natural to them. Heads of John the Baptist on salvers, dramatic 
 horrors, and men in contorted postures, until one turns with satisfaction to the cool and 
 reposeful and decorative stained-glass window, with its simple figure, bold lines of leading, 
 and rich colouring. Not that the afore-mentioned phases of painting are not healthy signs, 
 but only that they ought not to crowd out of appreciation another field of painting that 
 seems to be legitimate- — that of elevated poetical conceptions. At all events the latter 
 field seems to be essential for the style of the Music-Drama, and much can be learned from 
 the paintings of those artists marked by a refined aesthetic, sensitiveness and discrimination 
 and a sincere avoidance of what is unnecessarily ugly, or coarse, or physically repulsive. 
 With such feelings, with something to say, and a keen desire to say it, an artist ought to 
 be able to overcome the difficulties .of its expression, whether in words, music, colours, or 
 stone, and the originality of the result would probably take care of itself without being 
 laboriously sought for. 
 
 Page 26. Caution Necessary in Extreme Musical Innovations. 
 
 Of course, there is often reason in objections to unpleasing eccentricity in art-works. 
 Aside from the case of Music, in which a real auditory development is necessary before a 
 work, with striking innovations can be appreciated, there is always a possibility in an art- 
 work of any kind, of — 
 
 (1) The work being actually faulty, a poor work by a beginner, or by an * old hand,' 
 and due to lack of ability in conception or execution, or taste, or observation, or feeling, or' 
 industry, or lofty purpose, or a summation of these qualities ; 
 
 (2) The innovation being due to spontaneous or deliberate outrageousness, to a desire 
 for notoriety quite aside from any merits in the work itself, or to simple delight in scan- 
 dalising people's feelings, and ferocious iconoclasm. This spirit in art-works must be 
 carefully guarded against, for it often makes capital out of our desire for novelty. On its 
 mental side such aberrations are often due to vanity Or to desire of appearing original at 
 any cost. This often participates in — 
 
 (3) An ' originality ' copied from the works of some real genius by a man catering to 
 the desire of the public for the tendencies displayed in the works of genius. 
 
 It is this liability to be ' tricked' that ought to render people cautious, but this caution 
 is very different from a refusal to give an artist a sympathetic hearing, or scurrilous mis- 
 statements of a critic concerning a novel art or a highly original work of genius. When 
 it is found necessary to resort to untruth in order to decry an art-work, it is probable that 
 there is^mething in the work. 
 
 There are also peculiarities of musical diction that may arise from a voluntary or com- 
 pulsory isolation of the composer from the average musical ear. I have elsewhere suggested 
 that this possibility of cultivating musical-composing in comparative isolation, combined 
 
 M 
 
162 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 with the feature of music that it is not constrained to find its art-images in trie outer 
 aspects of modern life, and its unique qualities, whereby it is less likely to be affected by 
 the deplorable, or otherwise, condition of the other arts — that all these peculiar features 
 may partly account for the extraordinary fact of the flourishing condition of Music a* 
 times when Architecture, The Small Arts, Poetry, and Fainting were all in a very low con- 
 dition. Applying the idea of isolation to the case of Wagner, and remembering the way 
 in which he gave up his mind to the impetus of the tragical side of his Works, together with 
 the felt necessity of avoiding suggestions of the operatic style of music, it may be possible 
 to partly explain some of his peculiarities of musical diction that many ea-s find objection- 
 able in his later works, a.nd attribute to his seeking for originality, or else to his revolu- 
 tionary tendencies. It may be quite easy for a composer under certain circumstances to 
 get ' out of touch ' with the normal musical sense and ear of his epoch. In the case of 
 Berlioz's ' shocking passages ' it would seem that stress ought rather to be laid upon the 
 composer's peculiarities — upon his being part of a movement that was very revolutionary, 
 and left behind it in Painting many examples of pictorial art overwhelmed by the tragical 
 spirit of the stage and literature — and upon his very fantastic imagination,' which led him 
 to overstep the bounds of the expressive powers of music, and the field most peculiar to it, 
 as distinguished from Painting, The Stage, and Literature. One who is familiar with the 
 gloomy side of Wagner's life — the lack of that sympathy he craved, the inadequate per- 
 formances given to his earlier works, the unjust criticisms of the press and personal abuse, 
 the disgust and disappointments of the Dresden, Paris, Vienna, and Munich experiences^ — 
 would hardly wonder had Wagner experienced a sort of estrangement from the world about 
 him, and in desperation had ceased to pay any regard to the average musical sense, and 
 let his mind compose for itself, and as it listed. This might have led, where the dialogue 
 was gloomy, or unemotional, or narrational, or expressive of keen suffering, to an abstract 
 form of vocal phrasing unsatisfactory to the ear, and not musically comprehensible — the 
 modulations too violent, fragmentary, indistinct, or ugly, and the vocal ejaculations unne- 
 cessarily crabbed and fitful. 
 
 Note 21 ^S 6 98. Music, Exaggerated Powers of Expression of. 
 
 Note what Wagner himself says regarding the prelude to the third Act of Tannh&user. 
 " When first composing this piece, I allowed the subject of expression to betray me into 
 almost recitative-like phrases for the orchestra ; at the performance, however, I felt that 
 their meaning might well be intelligible to myself, who carried in my head the fancy- 
 picture of the incidents thus shadowed, but not to others. Nevertheless, I must insist on a 
 complete rendering of this tone-piece in its new shape, since I deem it indispensable for 
 establishing the ,Stimmung needed by what follows." This passage (translated, by 
 W. Ashton Ellis) is worthy of many readings for its bearing upon the subject under dis- 
 cussion. And the very fact that Wagner's programme to the Lohengrin prelude is itself 
 preluded by a short disquisition upon the Grail, shows the danger of descriptive music. 
 
 Note 22. Page 19. Subtlety. 
 
 It must be distinctly understood that the ' subtlety ' here meant is not that of the 
 intellect — of mathematical cleverness in dealing with logical relations of highly abstract 
 conceptions — more or less beyond or opposed to <5ur physical experience. It is rather an 
 evasiveness of feelings — a mocking of verbal definition. Its vagueness is not that of an 
 abstract conception far removed from any definite concrete object as its prototype, but 
 rather the mystery of cause and the undefinability of a feeling that may be just as 'real ' 
 as any of our mental experiences are. If the reader has not a clear idea of this unclearness, 
 let him listen intently to a fine orchestral performance of the prelude to Lohengrin, and 
 while listening, try to write down in definite language the emotional suggestions of the 
 tremulous melting chords. Otherwise, he may content himself with the evidences here 
 offered of what straits an author is reduced to in trying to describe clearly that unclear- 
 
-NOTES. 163 
 
 Page 127. Repetition of Words, Phrases, and Stanzas. 
 
 One of Wagner's reforms was the elimination of the practice of repeating words and 
 phrases. Regarding this practice, he remarks, " All doubt at last was taken from me when 
 I gave myself up to the Tristan. Here, in perfect trustfulness, I plunged into the inner 
 depths of soul events, and from out this inmost centre of the world I fearlessly built up its 
 outer form. A glance at the volumen of this poem will show you at once that the 
 exhaustive detail-work which an historical poet is obliged to devote to clearing up the 
 outward bearings of his plot, to the detriment of a lucid exposition of its inner motives, 1 
 now trusted myself to apply to these latter alone. . . . Perhaps the execution of this poem 
 will strike you as going too far into subtle (intime) detail ; and even should you concede 
 this tendency as permissible to the poet, you yet might wonder how he could dare hand 
 over to the musician all this refinement of minutia?, for carrying out. In this you would 
 be possessed by the same bias as led myself, when drafting the Flying Dutchman, to give 
 its form nothing hut the most general of contours, destined merely to play into the hands 
 of an absolute-musical working-out. But in this regard let me once more make one reply 
 to you, whereas the verses were there intended as an outl.iy for operatic melody, to be 
 stretched to the length demanded by that melody through countless repetitions of words 
 and phrases, in the musical setting of Tristan not a trace of word-repetition is any longer 
 found, but the weft of words and verses foreordains the whole dimensions of the melody, 
 i. e. the structure of that melody is already erected by the poet" — Wagner, Zukunftsmusic, 
 translated by W. A. Ellis. 
 
 Repetition of words is sometimes a ludicrous feature of operas — especially when they 
 .propose the general situation of a setting from modern life. If the action is wholly idealistic, 
 repetition of words and phrases is much less offensive. For this reason, we excuse a great 
 deal of it in oratorios, especially where the text is founded upon a religious theme. How- 
 ever, the expediency of repeating a phrase many times is very doubtful. The naturalness 
 of the procedure on the part of the composers is. evinced by numerous examples in opera, 
 oratorio and songs, and is probably to be accounted for by the nature of Music, whereby it 
 does not attain its best effects instantly and momentarily, but requires a certain time for 
 developing its themes and for working its emotional effect upon the hearer. Herein Music 
 shows its likeness to the emotions for which it stands. One of the chief differences between 
 emotions and sensations or ideas is their relatively longer duration as experiences. An 
 emotion usually takes some time to develop, and when once started its reverberations do 
 not cease immediately. Sensations or ideas can succeed each other with great rapidity and 
 little serious interference with one another. Music would fain linger over a situation, and 
 therein it is elegiac, or idyllic, or epic. To a certain extent the slow and measured cha- 
 racter of the action and acting of the Music-Drama allows this, but, withal, the inappeasable 
 hunger of an audience for events renders it very difficult to accomplish this, and moreover, 
 Drama is rather opposed to it. 
 
 If two characters are left face to face (cf. the ' rapt gaze ' scenes of Tristan, Flying 
 Dutchman, Meittet 'singer, Siegfried, Gotterdammerung, Parsifal) for a considerable period 
 of time, the audience seems to grow restless for ' something to happen.' An audience is so 
 unaccustomed to contenting itself in a theatre with music pure and simple, and being 
 accustomed to a continual flow of words in the spoken Drama, feels ill at ease when asked 
 to feast its eye upon a picture full of repose, accompanied by entrancing music suggestive 
 of the emotional tone of the scene. Nor is this the only difficulty. 
 
 It was mentioned that Music is slower in its revelations than Language, the reason 
 being, perhaps, that words only excite ideas of emotions without any vivid sensuous sug- 
 gestions of their nature. With the proclamation " 1 love," language is really at an end as 
 - regards the expressing of the emotion ; further than this statement it can deal with the 
 ' relations ' only of that emotion, such as denoting the object of the affection (you) or the 
 degree of intensity, or the reasons therefor, etc. But Music can take that single cause of 
 the proclamation and play upon it for whole hours, at every movement suggesting vividly 
 the nature of the feeling, and, unlike Language, it heed not keep on repeating the samo 
 
164 THE STYLE OF ' THE 'MUSIC-DRAMA. 
 
 phrase. If the two imaginary characters simply stand rapt in their own feelings, without 
 troubling themselves to ' say anything ' (as they might well do in actual life did the intel- 
 lect not assert itself), the audience feels as if they had forgotten their parts or something had 
 gone wrong on the stage. Nevertheless, this is a situation highly characteristic of the 
 Music-Drama as distinguished from the Spoken Drama, since it would lack all sense in the 
 latter, from the absence of any Music to suggest to our minds the feelings underlying the 
 silence of the characters. It is just such an extended situation that gives Music an oppor- 
 tunity of expressing the unexpressible. But for such a scene, a repose in contemplation on 
 the part of the audience is required, 
 
 Wagner has shown how mere repetition of words and phrases may be avoided in the 
 vocal part. The danger in a thoroughly poetic treatment of the dialogue is that it tends to 
 a detailed fulness of treatment, of dramatic development, and of dialogue, more adapted to 
 independent Poetry , or Drama. It brings in a wealth of imagery that may become episode 
 unless carefully chosen. 
 
 Page 108. Difficulties of Treatment. 
 
 It must be understood that we here speak of two results as analysed products of what 
 may really be a single conceptual process. Thus in Parts (7) and (9) Vocal Music and 
 Poetry are treated apart, but as Wagner has shown it is in the singleness of conception that 
 the perfectly unified product of tone and words must result. We are obliged to treat the 
 results of this process of simultaneous conception as two separate phases of phenomena. 
 
 Page 75. Concentration of Action in Greek Drama. 
 
 " The difficulty of the task which the ancient playwright had to fulfil is enormous. In 
 about half the time that is occupied by a Shakespearian play, the hearts of thousands were 
 to be drawn forth, and fixed on a supreme crisis, in which some serious aspect of human 
 destiny was typified. The crowning issues of one or more representative lives has to be 
 summed and manifested in a few scenes. And this must be done with completeness of 
 effect. The struggle of man with fate must be displayed in its rise, its culmination, and 
 its close. When, in addition to this, it was required that the action should seem literally 
 continuous, so that the presence of the chorus throughout should not be felt as improbable, 
 the severity of requirement was extreme. The difficulty was met by choosing the most 
 critical moment for representation ; and in so far the imagination of the spectator was less 
 exercised than when, as in Shakespeare, he is called upon to witness a series of actions 
 more or less widely separated in time [and place ?]. The ancient drama is thus character- 
 ised by intense concentration."— Campbell. (Cf. Wagner's device of concentration and 
 lyric extension, Tristan, ii.) 
 
 Page 51. Simplicity qf Greek Dramas. 
 
 " For the opposite of unity, in the true sense, is not multiplicity, but incoherence. The 
 distinguishing note of ancient tragedy is not unity, but simplicity, which is a different 
 thing, . , . Simplicity and concentration, as characteristic of the Attic masterpieces, may 
 be opposed to the greater comprehensiveness of a Shakespearian play. . . . The most 
 striking of all differences between Greek tragedy and the Shakespearian drama, consists ia 
 the number, variety, and complexity of the characters." — Campbell. 
 
 Pages 115, 126. The Differential Prominence of the Various Factors (Means cf Expres- 
 sion) of the MusioDrama in Different Situations and from Moment to Moment* 
 
 All the means of expression of the Music-Drama can vary among themselves in import- 
 ance from moment to moment, as the nature of the situation requires. Thus at times 
 the orchestra assumes the upper hand, at other times it sinks, and the lyric dialogue 
 becomes incisively prominent, such inequalities springing always from strictly dramatic 
 exigences, not from caprice or conventionality. In other words, this differential ebbing isa 
 species of dramatic subordination, justified by the increased beauty or effectiveness attained 
 
NOTES. 165 
 
 •thereby. There are times when the minds of the auditors should be forcibly directed to 
 the words of a certain character, and nothing should distract the attention from these 
 words, or perchance, preyent their being understood. At times the orchestra becomes the 
 bearer of the dramatic movement, or assumes a justifiable musical prominence. Sometimes 
 spectacle, or scenery, or scenic effects even, may strongly solicit the spectator's attention. 
 
 This differential conspiGuousness (ebbing and flowing) of the various modes of ex- 
 pression — taking place always within the bounds of unity, is not only justifiable, but a very C 2 
 important feature of the Music-Drama. It may often go a long way towards preventing 
 that congestion of stimuli which is so dangerous. It makes for the economy of the 
 auditor's mental energy. 
 
 Examples in Wagner's Tristan " mir erkoren, mir verloren," importance of words and 
 understanding. , " Tristan's Ehre " and " einsam wachend in der Nacht," relative unimport- 
 ance of words, and importance of music and suggestion. 
 
 The music and musical tone ought never to lag, or suddenly drop or rise, especially in a 
 manneristic way, as it often did in the opera, where the passage from spoken dialogue to D 
 recitative and aria was highly manneristic. There should be musical and dramatic con- C 4 
 tinuity and subordination. 
 
 However, this does not mean that the language can rise to such importance as to be 
 spoken in ordinary tone of voice, nor that the music can ever sink (orchestral or vocal) to 
 mere discord or formless melody. 
 
 Page 117. The Greek Drama a very Artificial, Form of Drama. Eeasons for this Note 28 
 Artificiality. Acting. 
 
 " In an area holding many thousands, however closely packed in concentric circles, it is 
 obvious that a drama, to be seen and heard and followed, must have the greatest simplicity 
 and clearness. Complicated situations, number and variety of characters, incidents divert- 
 ing attention from the main business, underplots and unexplained transitions, are excluded 
 by the conditions of the spectacle. Thus outward causes conspired with the native bent of « 
 
 Attic genius in imposing on the poet and the actors alike the necessity for directness and 
 unity of effect. . . . When any art is young, imagination answers generously to the artist's 
 demands. . . . above all when he works through language, the most elastic and pliable of ' 
 all art-media. [Cf. Hamerton on the disabilities of graphic arts as compared with literature.] 
 Day and night scenes were of course purely artificial on Greek stages. . . . There are 
 delicate modulations of voice and shades of facial expression which are possible in a private 
 room, but useless in a theatre. A still greater difference divided the ancient from the 
 modern stage. Such changes of attitude . . . marking critical points in the action, must 
 have been maintained for a considerable time, to enable the whole body of the spectators 
 to realise them. Frequent movement and gesticulation would have been meaningless, even 
 if the cothurnus, the padded bust and the trailing robe had not impeded motion. . < . The 
 grouped figures thus, as it were, brought nearer the eye (in the absence of magnifying 
 lenses) must often have seemed as still as in a tableau vivant — the "dumb personages" 
 (Ka<pa irp6o-wira) and other supernumeraries adding to the effect. The actor was a sort of 
 speaking statue . . . The whole scene bore a majestic resemblance to the marble reliefs 
 with which in later times the stage was adorned. 
 
 To maintain with dignified pose and gesture the character which the poet intended, and 
 which the maker of the mask had stamped in statuesque nobility upon the face ; to make 
 felt by everyone of the 30,000 spectators the significance of every change, and above all, 
 through the slow and measured rhythm, which alone could be followed by such a multitude, 
 to carry home the warmth and vehemence of strong emotion, must have required powers 
 and accomplishments of no mean order. Declamation, whether in recitation, recitative, or 
 son". . . . must have been of the first importance : and it is only natural that to make a 
 voice. . . . was an indispensable pre-requisite."— Lewis Campbell, A Guide to Greek 
 ■ Tragedy. 
 
 " Durip" the earlier period of ihe Athenian drama the principal part in the training 
 
166 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIO-DEAMA. 
 
 and instruction of the chorus was undertaken by the poet himself. In fact, the regular 
 name at Athens for a dramatic or dithyrambic poet was didaskalos, or ' the teacher/ owing 
 to the part he took in teaching his play or poem to the chorus. ... In fact, they were 
 quite as much stage-managers as poets." 
 
 [Contrast this with the division of labour thatleads a composer who has Dever had any- 
 thing to do with the stage to write operas. Note also that in R. Wagner we have almost 
 a unique phenomenon — that of a real artist being a stage manager, or rather the unique 
 phenomenon of a stage manager being a real artist with an eye for pictorial beauty and 
 composition.] 
 
 " This intimate connection between the poet and the stage, between the literary and 
 the theatrical part of dramatic production, continued to exist during the great period of 
 Athenian drama. Sophocles'appeared personally in some of his plays . . . Euripides 
 also seems to have superintended the training of bis choruses in person, as there is a 
 story in Plutarch which represents him as singing over one of his odes to the Choreutae." 
 
 " The profession of acting in ancient times required a great variety of accomplishments. 
 The words of a play were partly spoken and partly sung, and it was necessary that the 
 actor should have a knowledge of Music, and a carefully cultivated voice. He had to 
 combine the qualities of a modern actor with those of an operatic singer." (Cf. Wagner 
 on importance of acting.) "The purpose, then, of ancient dancing was to represent 
 various objects and events by means of gestures, postures, and attitudes. . . . The art 
 was carried by the Greeks to the highest perfection, and a good dancer was able to accom- 
 pany a song with such expressive pantomime as to create a visible picture of the things 
 described." 
 
 " But towards the end of the fifth and the beginning of the fourth century the practice 
 in these matters underwent a change. Poetry and stage-management began to be sharply 
 discriminated from one another. A class of literary dramatic writers arose, such as Theo- 
 dectes and Aphareus, who were quite as much rhetoricians as poets. They knew nothing 
 about the details of training a chorus or preparing a play for representation." — A. E. Haigh, 
 The Attic Theatre. 
 
 Pages 112, 140. Festival Conditions of Performance of Qreeh Dramas. 
 
 " The whole people drawn together under a religious and also a civic sanction ; business 
 suspended for several days ; all minds together bent upon a keen enjoyment which came 
 only once a year; how different from the modern night performances before a casual 
 audience of a few hundreds, whom chance or inclination brings to one of many ' houses ' 
 to look by gas-light at a piece that has been acted nightly by the same actors for a great 
 part of a year ! " — Campbell. 
 
 Page 139. Qreeh Drama, Shakespearian Drama, and Music-Drama contrasted. 
 (In a lew points only, and from modern standpoint.) 
 
 Cf. diagram opposite. 
 
 It is hardly conceivable that Hamlet could be well given in the form of a Greek drama 
 — all its important acted acts, i. e. ' presentative ' deeds, replaced by a narrative description 
 of each, perhaps in a messenger's speech. (Cf. the scene of the killing of Ophelia's father ; 
 the play by the players, with the king's observed discomfiture ; the grave-digger scene, 
 and the subsequent events at the interment of Ophelia ; the duel scene, stabbing of the 
 king, death of the queen and of Hamlet.) All this is essentially acted action, not literary 
 dialogue for reading to one's self, or a conversation play. Much less could the second act of 
 Wagner's Tristan be given in narrative form, or even stage form, with the spoken dialogue 
 of a play. 
 
 Music is an essential feature of the second scene of this act, and through music alone 
 is justified the extreme extension of the situation — a scene that, without music and vocal 
 dialogue, would be felt as unbearably long and verbose. 
 
 As a Shakespearian drama, Tristan would probably have teen thrown back upon the 
 
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168 THE STYLE OF THE MUSIC-DEAMA. 
 
 display of intrigue, and would have required many more scenes. As a Music-Drama, 
 Tristan is intensely inner. (Cf. diagrams. Cf. act ii. sc. 2, and act iii. sc. 2.) This does 
 not mean that the Music-Drama should lack outer action, the more acted action the better, 
 but such physical action should always be the result of the inner feelings, not mere outer 
 adventures or of activity imposed from without or happening from without. The acted 
 action should be the objectification of the inner drama of feelings, not a series of outer 
 events. 
 
 The Greek drama addressed itself to the understanding, not to the eye ; the stolid masks 
 and compulsory limitations of movement of actors prevented much ocular display of action, 
 together with the conventional relegation of dramatic deeds to performance behind the 
 scenes and to narrative form. With the tragical and horrible events relegated to invisible 
 performance and to * representative ' narrative instead of direct presentation on the stage, 
 the Greek drama could well afford to be much more violent in its events (killing, human 
 sacrifices, and matricides) than the highly presentative Music-Drama, in which all is 
 enacted before the eyes. 
 
 Not only did the Greek drama, by its long narratives, speeches, conversations, and 
 forensic contests, address itself predominantly to the understanding, the intellect, of the 
 auditors, but also by reason of its intrigue action its rationalistic and forensic type of 
 character, and its general placidity. Neither mysticism^ nor high-wrought chivalry, nor 
 passionate expression of love plays a great part therein. 
 
 " It is clear that some conventions were discounted [by the audience], and that much 
 was left to the imagination, including many of the horrors described as present in the 
 scene. . . . Witness the description of the English and French camps iri Henry V., where 
 the author was well aware that the representation on the stage would much disgrace," 
 &c. . . . 
 
 Besides the attributes of simplicity and concentration, ancient tragedy is stamped with 
 a degree of objectivity and outwardness, which, on the whole, differentiates its creations 
 from those of modern drama, steeped as this so often is with the introspectiveness or self- 
 reflectiveness that pervades the modern world." — Campbell. 
 
 I fancy that the average spectator would find the most obvious characteristic of a Greek 
 play (aside from the chorus and the musical element) as distinguished from a modern play 
 to be a lack of represented outer acts. The modern stage does not suppress all acted 
 acts, or let them appear in the form of narrative only. In this regard the Music-Drama 
 agrees with the modern rather than the ancient stage, at the same time making the outer 
 (acted) events the result of t;he inner emotions, rather than extraneously induced. Of 
 course, more striking differences would be brought out by replacing Hamlet (in the com- 
 parison) with a modern realistic melodrama proposing scenes from contemporary life. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS. LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET 
 AND CHARING OBOS9. 
 
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