^earning anb |tabor. LIBRARY OF THE University of Illinois. CI.ASS. BOOK. VOLUME. Accession No. THE EEALM OF MIJSIC« A SERIBS OF MUSICAL ESSAYS, CHIEFLY HISTORICAL AND EDUCATIONAL. BY LOUIS C. ELSON. Author of “ The Curiosities op Music,’* “ The Theory of Music,’* “ The History of German Song,” “ European Reminiscences,” etc. FOURTH EDITION. PUBLISHED BY The New England Conservatory of Music o BOSTON, 1900. Copyright, 1892, by Louis C. ElsoNo MANUFACTURED BY F. H. GILSON COMPANY, BOSTON. 63 PEEFACE. m These essays have been compiled from different periodicals to which I have been, during the past ten years, a frequent contributor. In collating them I have sought not so much for literary contrast as to present to the musical student a series of views of our inexhaustible art in many widely-differing phases. The musician’s reading, even in the technical field, is today necessarily a very wide one, and while the3e articles may not present an exhaustive view of any one subject, they may at least lead the reader to take an interest in the different branches of music, and thereby avoid becoming merely a specialist in the >2 art — a result to which the keen rivalry -of the present is undoubtedly leading. In the hope that this vol- ume may be the entrance to further musical thought and reading it is submitted to the student, for whom it is especially intended. Louis C. Elson. £. TABLE OF CONTENTS= Reformers in Music .... PAGE 1 The Rise of the Sonata . 42 Law and Music . 58 The Development of Musical Notation - Tir- Old English Ballads . ' . os The Legends of Music .... . 106 Music and Medicine .... . 123 Royal Musicians . 135 Musicians’ Portunes .... . 144 A Strange Singing-teacher . . 158 Musical Instruments and their Ejtochs . 163 Wives of the Great Composers . 171 Composers at Play .... . 180 Musical Criticism ..... . 182 Musical Humbugs . 200 Deification of Composers . 206 The Caste of the Musician . . 209 The Evolution of Verdi . 212 Musical Antagonism .... . 219 Ancient Estimates of Music . 222 — The Development of Technique . . 225 Emotion in Performance . 235 Shakespeare and Goethe in Music . 238 ( 5 ) 6 TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. Musical Novels 244 ^The Technique of Composition ...... 247 An Old Musical Dictionary 251 Composers’ Manuscripts . 260 Fatal Musical Masterpieces . 262 History in Song ......... 265 The Intellectuality of Wagner ...... 269 Eace Peculiarities in Singing ...... 272 Weak Translations ........ 277 Wagner and his Enemies ....... 282 Composers’ Thoughts ........ 287 Our National' Anthem . . . . . . . . 290 Musical Conductors ........ 293 The Size of the Modern Orchestra ..... 301 Poetical Musical Instruction ...... 304 Musical Eesemblances ........ 308 Talent and Genius ........ 310 A Dedication (Poem) ..... . . 313 REFORMERS IN MUSIC. In studying the history of musical art the careful reader cannot fail to recognize the fact that of the many composers who have now places upon the roll of fame, comparatively few have made new paths in art and been pioneers in untrodden musical fields. Mozart, for example, was by no means a musical reformer, although he used the materials of his art with a skill and good taste beyond any of his pre- decessors. It is the purpose of this article to show what musicians have gone beyond a mere employ- ment of forms and styles invented before their time, and have opened new modes of musical expression, construction or form. Such men have sometimes been less appreciated and often less beautiful in their work than their more timid brethren in art, but the world none the less owes them a debt of gratitude which is incalculable, for music is more progres- sive and confessedly more changeable than other arts, and requires men of boldness and intuition to guide its onw^ard steps. Pythagoras comes first upon the list of those to ( 1 ) 2 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. whom we are indebted in this manner ; or possibly the obligation may be extended to the Egyptian priests, those scientists of the ancient world with whom he studied. To Pythagoras is due the first systematizing of music, the establishing of funda- mental laws for the music which mankind had pre- viously produced intuitively. His division of a vibrating string into segments evolved a scale which was not only agreeable to the ear, but could be proven to be built upon natural laws. The fanciful connection made between this scale, and the supposed harmony of the spheres was not to be classed how- ever as a reform, although the ancient Greeks (about 530 B. C.) undoubtedly held it to be a valuable one. The names of the notes, taken from the plane- tary system, were comprehensible enough, the Sun being the controlling middle note (or tonic) while Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, Venus and the Earth circled around it. The next great reformer in music was St. Gregory (for the reforms of St. Ambrose were but fleeting), who existed in the sixth century of our era, a thou- sand years after our first-mentioned musical philos- opher. The plagal modes, the diatonic character of the scale, and the general modernization of the Greek music, from which far-distant fountain-head our own liEFORBIEllS m MUSIC. 3 music has streamed, we owe to this reformer of the dark ages. As yet, everything was unison in music, so far as one can ascertain from the misty chronicles of the most obscure period of the art, but now there steps upon the scene another reformer who brings about a series of comihnations of tones, consecutive fifths and fourths, which, crude as they were, were still the beginning of part-music. Hucbald, the Flemish monk who brought this about in the tenth century, may have been rather an adapter than a reformer, and the barbaric combinations may have existed before his time ; nevertheless to him is due the honor of being the first in the world’s history to formulate a system of simultaneous sounding of different tones, thus producing harmony. It will be observed by the reasoning student that “Music, heavenly maid !” is the youngest of the sisterhood of arts, except in the simplest elements of melody, and beside painting or sculpture she is a mere infant. One can also inferen- tially discern the probability that the wholesale inter- dict placed upon the use of consecutive fifths dated from the revulsion against the harsh comliinations of Hucbald. In the next century, shortly after A. D. 1000, there appears the greatest musical reformer of the middle ages. Guido, the monk of Arezzo, gave to 4 THE BEAL 31 OF MUSIC. the world the vocal syllables (originally Ut, Ee, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, only) which even to-day constitute the groundwork of Solfeggio. The origin of these, from the first syllables of a hymn to St. John, is probably known to most musical readers, but the important fact is not so generally understood that this was the beginning of sight-singing. Before this time the teaching of music was purely oral and imitative. The teacher sang a song and the pupil sang it after him until it was committed to memory. With the invention of the vocal syllables began the science of musical pedagogics. This practical reformer, of the eleventh century w^as the first real music teacher. The first use of staff and clef is also attributed to him but it is doubtful whether he can justly lay claim to oriofinatino^ these. The name of the musician who first had the hardihood to protest against Hucbald’s crude progressions of fifths (called Organum) is unfortunately lost to posterity, but it is possible that he was an Englishman, for the early writers attribute the invention of counterpoint to the English. It was Franco of Cologne, however, in the twelfth or thirteenth century, who gave to the advanced style of music an equally advanced notation. He cannot be credited with having invented the entire system of notation ; that was built up through the ages and its invention belongs to no one man, but Franco cer- BEFOBMEBS IX MUSIC. tainly formulated it into a sensil)lc system and wrote an important book about it, ealled ^^Ars Cantus Mensurahilis^' (“The art of measured song”) which is the earliest practical and intelligible treatise on music extant. He fixed and defined the staff*, and the clefs (the F clef being the most ancient and im- portant at that time) , and for the first time used notes ^ which he gave in diff’erent shapes corresponding to their diff'erent lengths. The names of some of his notes, as the Brevis (double whole note,) the Semi- brevis (whole note,) and Minima, (half note) are still used in the English nomenclature although the present rhythmic system Avould seem to make these names impracticable. The name of Adam de la Hale deserves a place in this portion of our list, for he was the first composer who is known to have composed properly-formed part music. He was a trouvere^ or minstrel, of North France, and existed at the end of the thir- teenth century, Avhich facts are very nearly all that can be ascertained about him. He was called the hunchback of Arras, although it is doubted whether he was deformed. He composed the first French comic opera, being thus the founder of a school that has ffourished ever since in his country. The next of the originators in music was Jean de * See essay on “ Notation.” 6 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Muris, or de Meurs, who was not only the first to apply the word counterpoint to the then new style of composition, but was the first to compose in florid counterpoint. He existed in the fourteenth century and was predecessor to a host of skillful composers who brought music to a higher level than it had ever before attained, although in their works there was far more of intricacy and ingenuity than of musical feeling. Emotion had not yet been recognized, at least by the schools of that epoch, as the true basis of music ; their works were rather from the head than from the heart. The first real school of composition was that of the Flemings, or Belgians. The rise of this set of com- posers cannot be placed much before the year 1400, and one cannot find a systematic style of work in musical construction which would satisfy modern critics, before this epoch. Therefore the art of com- position cannot be proved to have an age of even five hundred years. Canonic imitation was fairly well developed by the pioneers of this school, first among whom in point of chronology is William Dufay, (1380-1430), who has a good right to be mentioned in our list of musical founders and reformers. Al- though the very beginnings of canon can be found in the English “ Six men’s Song” entitled “ Sumer is icumen in,” Dufay may receive the credit of being BEF0BMEB8 IN MUSIC. 7 the first to systematize this style of work, and also of having much enlarged the limited scale system of Guido. His fame extended far beyond Italy, where he was engaged during the larger part of his life in composing works for the Pope’s chapel in Rome. His works had more of expression than one would imagine possible in those early days, and in this respect were more natural and praiseworthy than those of some of his successors where pedantic skill began to usurp the place of emotion. None the less the labors of such early workers in the mines of music gave a rich legacy to the eighteenth and nine- teenth centuries ; they gave to the world the crude ore, which Bach, Beethoven and the later composers worked into loftiest shapes : their labors can be com- pared to those of the old alchemists from whose plodding studies so much of modern science has sprung. Johannes Ockeghem, generally spelled Ockenheim, (1430-1513), is the next great name on the list of musicians to whom the world owes much. He fol- lowed In the footsteps of Dufay, but his. composi- tions have more form and symmetry, although the pedantries alluded to above began to appear fre- quently in his works. Difficult canons, generally four-voiced, and many of which have to be solved, like problems, by mystical words and phrases at- THE BEALM OF MUSIC. taclied, were among these. The mediaeval workmen were laying the foundation of music, rather than building a beautiful edifice. Kiese wetter proves that it was Ockenheim’s work that difiused the art of music through different countries , and that he is gen- ealogically the father of modern music. It was not only in composition that great activity was displayed during the fifteenth century ; the organ had been greatly improved, and great per- formers on this instrument began to appear ; the lute was performed frequently as an accompaniment to song, and secular instrumental music had a worthy beginning in solos composed for this instrument, while in 1502 Ottaviano dei Petrucci brought forth the momentous invention of printing music with movable types, an innovation of as much importance to the progress of. music as the works of any com- poser whatever. Ockenheim’s pupils began to spread over Europe, and with them went all the skill and learning of his school. Professorships of music were established in different universities, and a vast activity was dis- played in an art which the church took especially under her protection. Josquin des Pres (1445- 1521) was the greatest of Ockenheim’s pupils. He was a reformer in the best sense of the word, depart- ing from the formal rigidity of his master and of the BEFOUMEUS IN MUSIC. 9 older school, and giving to music a freedom and tyeniality it had not before possessed. Des Pres is classed hy Kiesewetter as one of the leading musical geniuses of any age, and the great German historian Ambros joins in the tribute to his ease and beauty of construction. He was a man of culture and wit, and was fortunate in living in a golden period of Italian art, and in being thrown into contact with many of the leading spirits of his time. His humor sparkled through much of his music, but was naturally not more refined than his epoch ; some of the sul)jects he chose for his muse were not only undignified but remark- ably vulgar. Ills arrangement of the favorite song of an Italian monarch who had no voice, with a single note (pedal point) for the unmusical king, was a touch of irony which Mendelssohn, less satirically, imitated centuries after in the part allotted to his voiceless brother-in-law Hensel, in “ Son and Stran- ger.” Orlando di Lasso"^ (1520-1594) has generally been considered as the culmination of the school which began with Dufay and Ockenheim. He com- posed over two thousand ivorks^ many of them large and well-developed compositions. A more success- ful life than his cannot well be imagined. Gifted as a boy with a beautiful voice, well favored in person, * In tlie native tongue of the composer the name was Roland de Lattre. 10 THE BEALM OF MUSIC.' and pleasing in manner, from the beginning to the end di Lasso was the favorite of princes, the pet of the courts of Europe. Poets sang his praises, his- torians lavished on him their choicest adjectives : “ Orpheus drew the rocks to him, but Lasso could have drawn Orpheus,” says one adulatory writer; ‘ ‘ Hie ille est Lassus lassum qui recreat orbem ; discordemque sua capulat harmonia,” is an epitaph written by another. Lasso was the last of the celebri- ties of the Belgium school. This school of compos- ers was, as already intimated, the dawn of music, the foundation of harmony and counterpoint, and it had given to the world in the two centuries of its exis- tence, over three hundred composers of more or less eminence. That many of its leaders exerted their influence in Kome was but natural, since the Popes drew around them all the great artists of that epoch to work in the cause of the church. One of the great reformers, however, was settled in Venice, and there exerted an influence which was fruitful in good results. Adrian Willaert (1480- 1562) was the organist and director in St. Mark’s cathedral in Venice, and not only won the foremost rank there by his compositions, but emphatically deserves the name of inventor and reformer in music, because of the important innovations which he in- troduced. Chief among these was the tempered BEFOBMEBS IN MUSIC. 11 scale,* a modification of the scale of nature that alone made music on keyed instruments practicable. The scale of nature, with its varying intervals, beautiful in progressions and harmonies, and emi- nently fitted for the vocalist or violonist, could only be employed on the organ when modulation was absent, and the work remained entirely (or nearly so) in one key. By the simple device of dividing the octave into twelve equal semitones, Willaert solved a problem that, although not of vast importance in his day, when modulations were but sparingly used, became each century of greater dimensions. This reform, because of the reason stated, was but slowly adopted by the world. As the field of music began to enlarge, a system of partial temperament was adopted which allowed the organist to play in a few keys closely related to F and C, without getting discordantly out of tune, but such keys as F-sharp major, D-fiat major, etc., were deemed altogether unnecessary, and were not used until a much later epoch. Willaert was the founder of the Venetian school of composition of that time, a school which m the seventeenth century gave forth many eminent composers, and exerted a direct influence upon the German school of a later epoch. He was the first * Zarlino and others deserve some credit in this matter, but Willaert was the first to broach the theory of the tempered scale with clearness and logic. 12 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. composer to write music in six, seven, and even eight voiced harmony. He was also the first to employ two and three choruses in large religious works, a great heightening of effect whether used simultaneously or antiphonally. Willaert has also been held to be the inventor of the Madrigal, a form of vocal composition which was the flower of the con- trapuntal period, at least among the shorter vocal forms. It is evident from all these deeds that the name of Adrian Willaert was by no means the least among the famous galaxy which formed the glory of the Flemish or Belgian school, and this school embraced on its roll of fame almost all of the pioneers in that art of combining tones in moving progression (as distinct from mere melody) which is to us the true life and beauty of Music. The Belgian school came to its end in the sixteenth century, but there was no interregnum in the onward progress of music, for at once there sprang into ex- istence an Italian reformer, who, contemporary with the last of the Netherlanders, composed music before which even we in the nineteenth century stand in silent wonder. In 1514 was born at Palestrina in the Koman campagna, Giovanni Pierluigi, the most eminent of all early contrapuntists'^ whose fame has made the name ♦ Some authorities give the date as 1528, 1524, or 1529. EEFOBMERS IiY MUSIC. 13 of the little city where he was born, immortal. He began the study of music at Rome, at a very early age, under Claudio Goudimel, one of the Belgian masters, who afterwards was murdered in the terrible massacre at St. Bartholomew. He advanced rapidly and soon became a chapel master of the Vatican. He soon brought out a volume of masses, and it may be recorded that these were the first important musi- cal works published by an Italian composer. The Belgians had, up to that time, entirely dominated the music of Italy. Shortly after the year 1550 Pal- estrina married. Of his wife little is known, save that she bore him four sons, and that the wedded life of the master seems to have been an exceptionally happy one. The book of masses mentioned above had been dedicated to Pope Julius HI, and very soon this pope offered him in return, a position in his private chapel as one of the singers, at a higher sal- ary than he was receiving as chapel master. As Palestrina was a married man, this appointment was a bold violation of the rules of the papal college, but none the less the post was accepted. Palestrina was unfortunate in the early death of the popes who were most friendly to him : scarcely had he entered on his new duties when Julius HI died. His successor, Marcellus II, who was also predisposed in favor of the young composer, died 14 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. after holding his position twenty-three days, and Paul ly, who followed, dismissed him as being too poor a singer to fill a position in the choir, and because he would have none but celibates in the papal musical service. Spite of the fact that the po- tentate tempered this dismissal with a small pension, Palestrina was so overcome by it that he took to his bed with a severe attack of nervous fever which came very near finishing his life before his work was fairly begun. The best possible remedy for his despair soon came in the shape of another appointment as chapel master at the Lateran. After a transfer to an- other church, he finally again became maestro at the Vatican. Now his works began to pour forth in a voluminous manner, and he began to show that he was able to use all the science which he had acquired in the school of the composers of the Netherlands, and yet break the fetters of their pedantry. Mad- rigals, masses, sacred works of all descriptions began to appear from his pen, and he, more than any of his predecessors, seemed to have acquired the art of giving expression and meaning to his music, illustrative of the words to which it was attached. Music in the church was certainly at that epoch not always of a reverent character. The Flemings would at times show their skill by weaving an entire mass around a drinking-song, and frequently the measures of BEFOBMERf^ IN MUSIC. 15 vulgar street-songs, sung as Canto Fermo against a sacred discant, would exhibit the learning of the composers far more than their piety. Palestrina changed all this. Some doubts have been thrown upon the story of his having done so by a public test in which his ‘‘ Mass of Pope Marcellus altogether vanquished the other schools of work, but there can be no doubt about his having brought church music in Italy to a higher standard than it had ever before attained. If to our ears his masses seem to lack emotion and do not represent different phases of feeling, we must bear in mind that polyphonic writing can never pro- duce all the pathos of homophony, and that dignity was the chief essential in a service that was and is rather a sacrifice than a prayer, and which should maintain something of the lofty impassive character of a Greek chorus. The “ Mass of Pope Marcellus ” remains a monument of the pre-romantic school, the greatest, most earnest, most beautiful musical work of the sixteenth century. It was immediately ap- preciated at its proper worth, and pope, cardinals, and papal choristers all agreed that it was the acme of ecclesiastical music. * Ambros, the best of musical historians, has cast a doubt upon Palestrina’s reforms, but the consensus of opinion of later writers is that this mass saved counterpoint at a time when it was about to be banished from the service of the church. 16 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. As a recompense for this great achievement in the cause of art, Palestrina was appointed composer to the pontifical choir, a post which was created espe-* cially to reward the singer who had been so ignomin- iously dismissed years before. The jealousies of the papal musicians which soon displayed themselves, availed nothing, and during the pontificate of seven different popes he held undisturbed possession of his post, Avhich although an honorable one, was not a well-paid one, nor did the dedication of a set of mag- nificent sacred works (in which the famous mass above mentioned was included) to Philip II of Spain, at that monarch’s own request, produce anything more substantial than a message of thanks. Never- theless all of his works, secular as well as sacred, (the former being very few in number) went through many editions, and must have added something to his slender income, while the patronage and friendship of Cardinal d’ Este prevented absolute poverty com- ing into the later years of this great composer, and when he lost this powerful patron, Giacomo Buon- compagni, nephew (or son) of Gregory XIII, came to his aid and established a large series of concerts which took place under Palestrina’s direction. Yet at no time in his career was Palestrina what could be called a prosperous man. He had very few private pupils, not caring to spend his time in any but the BEFOBMERS IN MUSIC. 17 creative branch of art. Domestic afflictions were many in his modest life. Of his four sons,* three, whom he had carefully instructed in music, died just as they were beginning to evince the fact that they had inherited some of his genius, and the one son who survived was a dissipated and worthless man. Yet even these afflictions did not abate the ardor of his creative genius ; he composed with unflagging zeal up to the very month of his death, and in looking over the works of his old age (he died at the age of about eighty) one finds no diminution of power or lack of fire. Pope Sixtus y, a man of considerable musical in- sight, appreciating the labors of Palestrina, endeav- ored to give him a samewhat higher position in the service of the Vatican, but his good intentions were frustrated by the intense and active jealousy of the singers, so that the semi-penury of Palestina’s career remained unabated to the close. It is utterly impossible in the limits of a brief sketch even to name the diflerent compositions of this leading ecclesiastical composer of his time. He wrote ninety-three masses, many of them for five, six, or eight voices, sixty-three motettes, mostly for eight or twelve voices, and offertories, litanies, 1am- * Some recent evidence has been discovered that the com- poser had but three sons of whom two died. 18 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. entations, hymns, magnificats and madrigals without number. His death occurred at a timely epoch ; the zenith of the old contrapuntal school had been reached, a revulsion was about to take place in favor of romantic, emotional or dramatic music. The very year of his death (1594) witnessed the completion of the first opera. With the decease of Palestrina counterpoint began to languish in Italy, the school of dramatic music re- lying rather upon homophonic effects for success, al- though no regular system of homophonic treatment had yet been formulated. It was now that Germany came forward as a musical power. That country had always been musical in one sense ; the people had always en- joyed music, and even if no great musical geniuses had yet been produced, a vast number of musical talents had kept the sacred fire burning briskly. It will be unnecessary to do more than give a mere synopsis of the reformers at present. The Minnesingers were the first of the German musical reformers, and brought secular music to an astonish- ing height at a time when even the Flemish school of composers had not come into existence. Yet their influence upon the art of music was not a very great one, for they did not, like the Netherlanders, estab- lish rules, and make of music a fixed science, and they were too much given to improvisation. Nev- BEFOBMEllS IN MUSIC. 19 ertheless they were among the best exponents of the natural and poetic side of music in mediaeval times. The Meistersingers were not reformers in any sense, but copied as far as they could, the music of the Minnesingers, while following the laws that had been laid down by the Flemish composers. Martin Luther stands out as the first great musical reformer of Germany. His chief musical reform consists in the recomdliation of the classical and pop- ular schools of composition. He brought counter- point to the people by having their most popular songs set in a worthy musical manner for the service of the church.* Lucas Osiander (1586) and Hans Leo Hassler should be mentioned as reformers in music. The innovation which they made may seem a very slight one, but it was none the less of great importance. It was the giving of the melody, in part music, to the highest voice, .the soprano. To us it seems self-evident that this voice should carry the tune, but it was not so with the early composers. They desired to make the most of their discant, and the melody, given in the tenor, in a part-song, served only as a peg whereon to hang the counterpoint. The great host of chorale composers who followed this epoch were undoubtedly a great influence in * See Elsou’s “History of German Song,” chapter vii. 20 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. German music, or rather in Protestant music the world over, but they must be regarded rather as developers than reformers. Of the reformers in opera, both German and Italian, we shall speak in a separate article. Let us now rather turn our at- tention to the pioneers in instrumental music. The instrumental music of mediaeval times was crude enough. In the secular field it was given chiefly by trumpets and drums (which were par excellence the instruments upon which the nobility and gentry might practice) and harps and fiddles ; but in the sacred school of composition there was a much loftier instrument to deal with — the organ. It was in Venice that this instrument received its chief devel- opment, but the names of the inventors of the earliest improvements upon the organs which came from the east, have been lost. The fact of the organ having come to Europe from the Orient in the middle ages is an interesting one, for since the organs of the ancient world (of Imperial Eome especially) were made in Alexandria it is not improbable that when the night of the dark ages descended upon Europe, some of the musical arts which flourished under the great empire took root in a more Oriental civiliza- tion. It was a German organist, residing in Venice, named Bernhard, who invented pedals for the or- gan, or at least greatly improved them ; he was BEFORMEliS IN MUSIC. 21 organist to the doge of Venice in 1470 or 1471, and it is probable that his improvements were made at about this time. In this century also, reed pipes were added to the instrument, greatly adding to its variety of tone. Venice possessed the greatest of the early organists, paying far more attention to the instrument than they did at Rome, where the church aimed rather to develop vocal music. Claudio Me- rulo, Andreas Gabrieli and Giovanni Gabrieli were among the first and most famous of these organists, and their fame, and that of Willaert, soon attracted many Germans to Venice to study the instrument un- der them. From this time forth Germany seems to have displayed a fondness for instrumental music. Such men as Schiitz and Hassler, studying with the two Gabrielis, brought back to their native land an ad- vanced style of instrumental work, which soon began to leave the Italian manner and become distinctively German. Soon after this epoch, that is in the seven- teenth century, we find the greatest organists of the world in Germany. Organ playing, as in fact almost all instrumental work, had thus far been chiefly an aux- iliary of song ; but now the German organists began to elevate it to the rank of an independent art. They had already won a little independence for their instrument by playing plenty of interludes and postludes to the chorales which they accompanied, but now came the 22 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. first great reformer in this field of musical execution — Michael Praetorius — who introduced melodies upon the instrument which were not derived from the hymn-tunes, hut were properly constructed and characteristic organ movements. Praetorius was born in 1571 and died at the age of fifty. He de- serves mention not only as organist but as one of the moat voluminous writers on music of his day. Maiiy a fact relative to the instrumental customs of his time which would otherwise have been lost, is pre- served to us in his weighty tomes. There were other celebrated organists of the same fiimily name (the German name was Schultz) contemporaneous with this author and musician, but he only, deserves the name of being the first who developed the indepen- dence of the organ. Samuel Scheldt (1587-1654) was the first to entirely formulate this independent use of the instrument ; his Tahlatura JSTova, pub- lished in 1624, may be looked upon by concert organists as the very beginning of their art. Fol- lowing these pioneers, came a whole race of organists and as the organ, being an instrument without accent, is best suited to produce polyphony, where accent is reduced to a minimum, the science of counterpoint flourished apace in Germany during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, while it was gradually de- clining in Italy. REFORMEBS IN 3IUSIC. 23 The great era of musical reform took place when the emotional idea began to assert itself pre-eminently, and skill and ingenuity, although still recognized as iin- })ortant factors in the art, no longer precluded feeling and expression. This occurred between 1585 and IGIO, and this period may be called the renaissance epoch of music. There is no quarter-century in his- tory which l)rought forth so many reforms as are con- tained in this. As the old achemists in endeavoring to discover the })hilospher’s stone, brought forth something of more practical value — the science of chemistry — so the Florentine nobles and musicians. Count Yernio, Galilei, Peri, Caccini, and others, in seeking to re-establish the ancient Greek drama in all its splendor, evolved something of yet greater value — the Opera. This in itself was a reform, or rather an invention, which outweighed anything that had been done in music since the establishment of counterpoint by unknown musicians, the foundation of length-notes by Franco of Cologne, or the discov- ery of solfeggio by Guido of Arezzo, and it l)rought many other reforms in its wake. The old chanting style of singing was no longer possible and as a con- sequence the longest notes of the old system, the maxima (equal to eight whole notes), and the Longa (equal to four whole notes), soon became obsolete, while the brevis, (two whole notes) , was rarely 24 THE BEALM OF MUEIC. used, except in final cadences.'^ Thus the semi- brevis became very soon the unit in notation and the rhythms began to simplify themselves. The writer has in his possession a rare volume by Zarlino, the commentator and teacher of music, dated 1562, in which all of the old complexity is still in- culcated. The rhythm marks at this time were to some extent tempo marks as well, and had a direct bearing on the value of the notes. If the signature were any of the following, (j), C, or (f, the values of the notes were as above indicated, and the rhythm was called equal (or imperfect^ as some of the writ- ers style it) ; but if the mark were thus 0, C, 0, or O, the brevis l^ecamc of the value of three semi-breves, and each of the above signs had distinctions in the progressions which it will l)e unnecessary to repro- duce here. The rests were, even in those ancient days, quite akin, in notation at least, to those of our own day, but also changed their values as indicated above. Roughly stated, the first scries of the above signs represented 2-2 or 4-4 rhythm (it is utter non- sense to suppose that the second of the hieroglyphs was ever intended fora “ C,” as an abbreviation for “ Common Time,” as is so erroneously taught by some misinformed musicians) while the second series represented 3-4 or 3-2 rhythm. At first sight it * See article on Notation.'” BEF0H31ERS LV MUSIC. 25 seems strange that the latter should have been called Perfectum, and have l)cen preferred by many of the ancient composers, until we learn that the object was to represent the Trinity in music, and therefore dear to the heart of almost all of the monkish composers of mediaeval times. With the rise of the new school the complexity vanished and our modern system of rhythmic divi- sions began. The older music had been divided only into phrases, but the operatic music necessitated, and received, the l)ar line. The clefs, too, began to change, and the almost constant use of the F clef began to give way frequently to the employment of the C clef, and even the G clef began to appear. As feeling and sentiment began to be the most impor- tant matter in music, signs of expression began to be used. “ Adagio ” was, we l)elieve, the first of these signs, and misspelt “Adazio ” at that. The signs of crescendo and diminuendo were not long in following, and as a musical form was soon evolved which sym- metrically ended as it had begun, the words “Da Capo ” very soon obviated the necessity of reprinting the first part of every aria. The Opera was not the only great musical produc- tion of this noble epoch ; the oratorio was established almost simultaneously with it, for while the Floren- tine nobles were zealously laboring to establish 26 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. secular music (and it is no exaggeration to say that secular music had its origin in this epoch, spite of the previous Avork of the Troubadours, Trouveres, and Minnesingers), an equally zealous priest — St. Philip Neri — was laboring to give to sacred music a more attractive and popular aspect, and his weekly evening services in which a Scriptural tale Avas given Avith musical adjuncts, were called “ oratorios ” from the fact that they Avere not given on the altar, but in the oratory of the church. These great musical forms were not the only ones that sprang into existence in this period of great mu- sical activity. The Cantata, a very vague form at first, began to flourish. At first it Avas merely a cycle of songs, generally for a single voice, but it soon became more elaborate, although not more definite, and it Avould be difficult to define, even today, exactly Avhat is meant by the word. Its etymology is, however, clear enough, it having arisen from the Avord cantare, “to sing,” and therefore sig- nifying merely a “singing piece.” The instru- mental forms betrayed no less activity than the vocal at this time. The Fugue {horn fug are ^ “to fly,” and meaning that one part fleAV before the other) was a legacy from the preceding century, and had not yet become a fixed form such as we are accus- tomed to to-day ; it was at this time Avhat we should BEFOllMEBS IN MUSIC. 27 define as a canon, for in a quaint musical dictionary of the time we read, “A Fuge [.s’7c] is where some of the parts begin a certain aire, and the other parts begin some time after y^, imitating ye first and repeat- ng the same aire throughout all the parts.” An in- strumental companion to the Cantata, however, was at once found in the “ Suonata or “ sounding piece ” {{.e. “ instrumental piece ”) which arose al)out this time. The Partita or Suite which also originated about this time, was at first a succession of pieces, fre- quently dance movements, of irregular shape, and quite free in order and style, although generally hav- ing a slow movement in the centre and a quick one at the end. It took a more regular shape in the next century. In fact, if the beginning of the seventeenth century was the era of creation and invention, we may look upon the eighteenth as the epoch of elabo- ration ; the rough gems which were unearthed in the former, were polished in the latter age. After the rise of Italian opera, the suite, the old Sonata, and the other vocal and instrumental forms of the beginning of the seventeenth century, music remained stationary, or at least without radical changes for a hundred years. The art of counter- *This important form has been traced in a separate essay in this volume, and requires no additional comment here. 28 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. point gave way, in Italy, to a use of harmony, even though the laws of the latter science were not yet formulated. Intellectual music gave way before the emotional and melodious, all over the civilized world. Only in Germany did polyphony resist the encroach- ments of homophony, and a race of contrapuntists arose which was even superior to that of the old Italian school, using all the ingenuity of the older masters, but adding thereto a tunefulness and an agreeable style which were unknown in other days. The labors of this school reached a climax in the works of Bach. This great master was certainly one of the most em- inent of all musical reformers, not only because of his establishment of rules in certain kinds of music that had been very vague before his time, but because he invented a new instrument and because he made the domain of composition very much wider than it was before his time. We have alluded elsewhere to the invention of the tempered scale, the first thorough elucidation of which was due to Adrian Willaert. Spite of the evident advantage of the new system of dividing the octave into twelve semitones, custom was stronger than practicality, and the world only partially accepted the new theory, using what was called a system of ‘ ‘ mean tones ” which ])ut a few keys into accord with the natural scale. As a con- HEF0B31EBS IN MUSIC. 29 sequence compositions were very restricted in' their range of keys and modulations. In a ])ook by John Playford, (in the possession of the writer) , three-fourths of a collection of some fifty songs arc in the key of G-minor. Such keys as B or F-sharp major Avere never used. It Avas Bach Avho l)roke the fetters of the natural scale. The compromise called “equal temperament” had been sufficiently explained to the world, but no one had yet practically introduced it by using the distant keys Avith the same freedom that the keys of F, C, or B- flat, with their corresponding minors had been em- ployed. This Avas left for Bach to do, and right royally he did it. “ The Well-tem})ered Clavichord ” (meaning a clavichord that had been tuned in equal semitones) has a double claim upon our respect, for it is not only a magnificent collection of ])i*eludes and fugues, but it Avas the pioneer in establish- ing the equality of all keys, as it presented com- positions in each of the tAventy-four keys, major and minor. Kegarding the effect of the tempered scale as com- pared Avith the scale of nature, the folloAving facts, not generally knoAvn to amateurs, may be stated. The tempered scale is close enough to just intonation not to shock the ear of any musician (especially on the pianoforte) and admits of modulations freely into all 30 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. keys. The interval of the major third is, however, an exception to this, and causes the major triad to sound somewhat harsh. On the organ the major triad is especially disagreeable when tempered. The tempered scale is, after all, only a compromise, an escape from a difficulty, and while* it is necessary upon keyed instruments, is adhered to far too faith- fully by violinists and vocalists, who, when unac- companied, could obtain far richer, mellower, and finer effects by keeping to the scale of nature. It would be well if vocalists were trained to sing both the scale of nature and the tempered scale, and were to prac- tice frequently with an enharmonic instrument. The question is by no means settled yet, as everybody who has heard the delicious sweetness produced by using the natural scale knows, but the compromise practically founded by Bach was a most valuable one. Bach was also a reformer in the field of instrument- making, he being the inventor of an instrument be- tween the violoncello and the viola. This was a vio- loncello with a treble (E) string added, and was called by him the Viola Pomposa, or the Violoncello Piccolo. He wrote a Sonata for the instrument, which has become obsolete. In theory of composi- tion Bach was also prominently active, being the first to thoroughly reconcile the antagonism between REFOBMEllS IX MUSIC. 31 the old church modes and the modern harmonic sys- tem. He often used the old church modes, l)ut treated them in a manner more consonant with the modern liarmonic principles than any of his [)rede- cessors. In the musical forms Bach claims our utmost homage, nor is it necessary to go beyond the bounds of historic accuracy, as some of our enthusiastic writers have done, and claim for him an influence upon the modern sonata, a field in which he is not to be ranked even with his son, Philip Emanuel Bach. He none the less established and reformed the in- strumental shapes of his era ; the fugue especially became in his hands a perfect form, the gem of the instrumental side of the contrapuntal epoch. The fugues of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries had but a vague sha})e, the definitions of the early histo- rians pointing rather to canonic imitations than any- thing else, as the foundation of fugal music. In England during the lifetime of Handel, every instru- mentaP piece that had contrapuntal imitations was dubbed “ a Fuge,” and even in Germany no clear definition of the form was made until Bach brought put his great “Art of Fugue” which remains a stan- dard for all time. Bach’s devotion to this form cost him his eyesight, for the blindness which came upon him in later years, has been traced to the great strain 32 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. he put upon his eyes in bringing forth the above- mentioned work. Finding that no publisher dared undertake it, he engraved the copper plates of the book himself, in order that the world might not lose the system he had elaborated ; only one example out of many, of the working in “ art for art’s sake,” which we find in the career of this great musician. The Suite, one of the most pleasant forms of the contrapuntal era, received thorough attention at the hands of Bach. The Suite is not as expanded a form as the Sonata or Symphony but it is a form much better suited to counterpoint than the latter, and as it was less severe than the fugue, it speedily became the most popular instrumental form of the seven- teenth century, as well as of the first half of the eighteenth. To this form Bach gave a regular suc- cession of movements, although retaining the mo- notony of key which was an element of weakness. He invariably gave the stately Sarabande the central position in these works, thus allowing it to fulfill about the same mission that the Andante does in modern Sonatas and concertos. The key (as already intimated) was the same in each of the six or eight numbers, and in this matter Bach was very rigid. Symmetry, and regularity of key, was with him a very essential part of the musical creed. Bach’s Suites will always remain models in their BEFORBIEES IN MUSIC. 38 school, and his fugues in a higher field. We must add that these works brought in their train a very im- portant reform, a more advanced style of fingering. The old fingering which scarcely used thumb or little finger at all, was doomed, when these Avorks were composed, and in the Fugues and Suites of John Sebastian Bach we find the beginning of modern piano technique. Of the sons of Bach, but one was really a reformer in music, and this Avas the one Avho stood as the con- necting link between the contrapuntal and the har- monic epochs, “the father of modern pianoforte playing” — Philip Emanuel Bach — Avho might also be very justly called the bridge between Bach and Haydn. It A\^as Philip Emanuel Bach Avho founded the technical principles of modern pianoforte music, Avho gave to the scales a regular fingering, and who first brought the principles of homophony to the piano. Pianists must rank him with the great re- formers for he first made the really technical study of the instrument possible. Gluck, of course, is to be named in the honorable list of those Avho brought a neAV significance into music. Although his triumphs were achieved in France, it is no hyperbole to call him the founder of German opera. He certainly had a herculean reform to effect, an Aug?ean stable to clean. When 34 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. the Italian opera arose, it was a progressive step, but one which soon deviated from the right path, and became a hindrance to true art-development. Infatuated and intoxicated with the emotions which could be represented in the new style of music, the operatic composers soon made a mistake in placing music above poetry in the marriage of these two arts, and instead of interpreting the emotions of a poem, the composer would often force the verses into a preconceived shape, whether their character admit- ted of it or not, merely aiming at musical contrasts and not at dramatic fidelity. Thus arose the Aria form of the ancient composers in which the first theme always ended as well as began the composition. Gluck first attacked this form as untrue to nature although affording good musical contrasts, and went yet further in demanding that the accompaniment, which had hitherto been only a support to the voice, should become a part of the picture, and aid in por- traying the subtle' meanings of the words. Excel- lently did he achieve this ; he did not discard melody, but made it subservient to the situation represented, and while the orchestra was still a noble support to the voice, it became also a part of the dramatic effect of the whole. Such intellectual points as causing a chorus of lost spirits to end upon a chord of the diminished seventh, to intimate that sin was a disso- llEFOliMEliS m MUSIC. 35 nance that never eoiild be dissolved, began to appear. Sueb graphic touches as the barking of the dog Cerberus (represented on contral)asses) when Or- pheus approached the gates of Hades, and the mut- tering of the dark-toned violas, to illustrate the gloomy soul of Orestes the matricide, began to dignify and enrich the accompaniment, and the prin-' ciples which we now recognize as l)eing the funda- mental truths of operatic composition were first formulated and proved by Gluck. While Gluck achieved this for the operatic form, another reformer had arisen in the instrumental field. This was Haydn — “ the father of instrumental form.” In 1759 he had produced a little Avork for eight instruments, in three movements, and called it a “ Symphony.” This Avord had previously been a much abused one, applied indiscriminately to prelude, interlude or postlude, but it Avas uoav to have a more definite and important meaning, as an orchestral so- nata. Haydn really founded the* sonata form, al- though some of his predecessors, and contemporaries, Kozeluch for example, accidentally touched upon the form but left it Avithout discovering its great signifi- cance. The germ of the form in fact, may be dis- covered in some of the Avorks of Philip Emanuel Bach, which Haydn carefully studied, but Avhich Bach had newer either elaborated or permanently fixed. 36 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. As Haydn was the first to see the adaptability of the sonata form to the uses of homophony or harmony, and to establish its usage by composing hundreds of works (symphonies, sonatas, string quartettes, over- tures, etc.,) in this shape, one would imagine that the hair-splitting theorists who delve into antique scores and merely bring forth accidental resemblances, would be silenced, and that Haydn might take his place among the great founders and reformers on the musical roll of fame without cavil. Beethoven’s reforms extend chiefly into the field of instrumental, symphonic music. His improvements of the sonata form as applied to the piano cannot exactly be classed as inventions, since Haydn and Mozart had given forth the fundamental principles, and the new and princely edifice was built upon their foundations. But in the field of symphony Beeth- oven brought forth many new things. He elevated the humbler instruments to a higher plane and gave them their first real significance. The Kettledrums which had been purely rhythmic before, the contra- basses which only gave forth the fundamental bass, the horns which had no romantic and brilliant work, were all given positions of real significance in his orchestral structure. In his second symphony he did away with the minuet which Haydn had used so conscientiously that it became a fetter, and replaced REFORMETtS IN 3IUSIC. 37 it with the freer tmd more beautiful Scherzo. In pro- gramme music he brought forth, not the first instru- mental tone-picture, for Bach, Rameau and many oth- ers had preceded him in this, but the first application of objective detail to symphony. In the Ninth Sym- phony, by his introduction of voices he opened the door to the Wagnerian theories. In the domain of opera and song, however, Beethoven cannot be classed as a great leader, spite of the beauty and grandeur of “ Fidelio,” “ Adelaide,” and other isolated instances. Of the reforms of Wagner little that is not already known can be said. He has opened an entirely new path in music, yet even he has not actually been the first to use many of the devices which the world credits him with. The leit-motif, for example, has existed from the time of Mozart, and perhaps before it, the dramatic use of the orchestra comes from Gluck, but certainly Wagner gave to these devices a new sig- nificance. It has been said that, if Napoleon had not had an attack of indigestion, he would have won the battle of Waterloo, and the entire history of the world would have been changed. Throughout all his- tory, the careful student finds slight events occurring, which, in their results, attain colossal proportions. Napoleon III, in his famous History of Caesar, main- tains that these ‘ ‘ ifs ” are not of the importance which many historians attach to them. He says, in sub- 38 THE EEALM OF MUSIC. stance, that, while a small match may kindle a large conflagration, the materials for the fire must be gath- ered together by a long series of events. The single seemingly slight circumstance which may cause a great war or a vast schism is really but one link of a chain. Although the truth of this proposition is self-evident, the “ ifs ” of history are none the less interesting, as they are often the only visible link of the chain . Musical history and progress, as we have seen, also has its “ifs,” which are not less interesting than those of the political or diplomatic field, and we can best sum up the work of many reformers with a few of these. “If” Pythagoras had not studied science with the Egyptian priests, he would not have invented the Greek system of music, which afterward was adopted in ancient Some, then at a later epoch by Saints Gregory and Ambrose, and thus has extended its influence down to our own time. In such a case, our music might have received a greater tinge of Orientalism (Hebraic or Arabic), and we should be singing in third tones or quarter tones instead of tones and semitones. “ If” Hucbald, the monk of St. Amands, had not (shortly before the year 1000) invented the crude system of harmony called Orgaiium, the prohibition liEFOBMEllS IN MUSIC. 39 against consecutive fifths would not stand so rigidly in our text-books of harmony today. IIucl)ald’s system consisted entirely of consecutive fourths and fifths, and caused a revulsion of feeling against their use as the taste in music became more refined. “If” there had not been a hymn to St. John written, at about the same epoch, with the first note of each line one degree higher than its predecessor, the syllables of the vocal scale would not have been invented, and solfeggio might have remained un- known. “ If” Martin Luther had not been a singer, the lofty chorales of the Keformation might never have been written, and hymnology today would be vastly difierent. “If” Palestrina had not existed at a critical epoch (in 1565) to write a mass — the Missa Papae ISIar- celli — in a competitive examination of the music best adapted for the Catholic Church, the council might have banished counterpoint from the musical service, chanting would have been adopted, and the masses of Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, Avould never have been composed. “ If,” in 1594, in Florence, the musical-literary society which aimed at bringing back the palmy days of Greek drama had been composed of the skilled composers of that epoch, the Italian opera, instead of 40 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. being dramatic in its musical effects, would have been contrapuntal in its character, and would not have made its way so rapidly into foreign countries. In this case, the operas of Handel, which were made chiefly for the English market, would never have come into existence. “ If ” Handel had made a great success with his operas, he would probably never have written his oratorios. “ If ” Rossini had never existed, the operatic forms of Gluck would have been followed ; and many of the reforms which Wagner has effected would have been made in the early part of the century. But all these “ ifs ” and all these reforms teach us that the art of music never stands still ; it changes more than any of the arts from age to age. The music of Haydn seemed overladen to his contempo- raries ; today we find it too simple. It is this ele- ment of change which is the surest guarantee of the eternal youth of our art. Scarcely has music begun to grow conventional in any branch when there arises a reformer who gives to it some entirely new direc- tion, some new mode of construction, unheard of before, and at once a virgin field is spread again before the pioneer. It was thus with Peri and Cac- cini, with Gluck, with Haydn, with Beethoven, and with Wagner, and will be so in the centuries to BEFOltMEllS IN MUSIC. 41 come. Especial honor will always belong to those who first open the new paths, and who break the old fet- ters, an honor which should the more readily be paid by posterity since it is generally denied by their contemporaries ; and in thus mentioning a few of the greatest we have brought but a slight tribute to the host of Reformers in Music. THE RISE OF THE SONATA. Of all the forms of instrumental music of modern times, the sonata form may, with justice, be said to hold the highest rank. It must however, be borne in mind by the reader that, in speaking of the sonata, we do not allude to merely the piano composition of that name, but all those compositions which have sprung from it, such as the concerto, the trio, the string quartet, the concert overture, the symphony, etc. As the essence of the instrumental and vocal works of the Middle Ages, after the invention of the barbarous organum of Ilucbald (which was merely an accompaniment of empty fifths or fourths to a given melody), was crudely contrapuntal, it is nat- ural that the canon (in a very free and vague state, however) , should have been the chosen form of many of the earliest works, and that the sonata should have remained for the development of comparatively mod- ern masters. Yet the sonata owes its rise to the music of a very early epoch. It springs from the popular instrumental music of a very distant era. ( 42 ) THE lilSE OF THE SONATA. 43 While the severe composers of mediaeval times were evolving their contrapuntal studies, the people in all European countries were enjoying themselves with a music of less ambitious and more jovial char- acter. Dances were composed of marked and attrac- tive rhythm, differing essentially from each other in character, and capable of very contrasted effects. In Spain were the stately Sai'ahande^ the dignified Pa- vane., and the more rapid Loure; in Italy, the gay Courante, the sedate Chaconne, and the quiet Passa Mezzo; in England, the Hornpipe, the Country Dance, and others embraced in the general Conti- nental appellation of Anglaise; in Germany, the cheerful dance known in the works of Mozart and others as the Danza Tedesca; in France, the noble Minuet, the half-playful Gavotte, the merry the dashing Passe-pieds, and the pleasing Pigaudon; and, in all of these countries, the hearty Gigue. France was the dancing country par excellence; and it soon assimilated to itself all of these dances, and many besides. From these dances came indi- rectly the sonata ; for from them was formed the ancient Suite, and from the Suite gradually sprang the sonata. The old sonata, as used by composers before the time of Corelli, may be dismissed at once, as having no connection with the modern sonata. * The original of the Bourree. 44 THE REALM OF MUSIC. Frescobaldi, for example (born 1587), writes a so- nata in one movement, and in no part of it attempts any contrast of themes or of styles. The fact is that, in the earlier works, a sonata was simply a display piece for some especial instrument. The word itself had its origin in the verb suonare, “ to sound and suonata simply meant a “ sounding-piece,” as the word “ cantata” from {cantare) meant a “ singing- piece.” The two terms originally had no significance as to form. But the dances above alluded to had a much more real and intimate connection with the formation of our modern work . The composers of the seventeenth century, particularly in Germany and France, soon began modelling compositions in the dance forms which were so popular. In France, the court patronized and enjoyed this kind of work more than the more learned fugues ; and vocal as well as in- strumental gavottes and minuets soon appeared, which were not intended for dance use. In using the dance rhythms as disassociated from the act of dancing, a freer treatment became possible ; and these composi- tions began to differ from the dances, very much as. Chopin’s Vaises or Rubinstein’s Valse Caprice differ from a waltz by Johann Strauss. The essence of form is contrast, and it is not sur- prising that the composers soon invented a simple form by combining two or three dance-rhythms of THE BISE OF THE SONATA, 45 different character into a single composition. At length the Suite crystallized into somewhat regular form, which may be represented somewhat as fol- lows : 1. Prelude; 2. Allemande; 3. Couvante; 4. Sara- hande; h. Gavotte ov Minuet ;* 6. Gigue. If this form be compared with the modern sonata, it will be found that, althousfh the ^reat charm of the latter — the development — is absent, yet the resemblance of movements is marked. The sonata, roughly speak- ing, begins with an intricately constructed first move- ment, of some degree of rapidity, which may be called intellectual in its character. This is followed by a movement in strong contrast, slow and emo- tional in its chief characteristics. This is again suc- ceeded by a bright and playful movement, and a brilliant display movement brings the work to a close. In like manner, the prelude of the Suite (as in Bach’s Suites Anglaises^ contained a degree of intel- lectual treatment; while the Sai'obande {\\kQ the Andante movement of a modern work) came as a calm central movement, in contrast to rapid move- ments before and after it. The Gigue also, which closed the Suite, was decidedly a display movement, being more rapid in tempo and often more elaborate in construction than any other portion, save the pre- lude . * Or other “ Intermezzi.” 46 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. There were, however, some sonatas among the earlier works, in which, although they were intended merely as “ sounding pieces,” and were subject to no definite law of form, the composers, recognizing the effects gained by contrast of movements, seemed to arrive at a point very near to that occupied by the Suites. The Sonatas of Henry Purcell (1658-1695) are examples of an intelligent musical nature striv- ing after an effect which was only fully attained more than a century later. His twelve violin sonatas are formed with two, three, and four movements each ; and the famous Golden Sonata of this set contains five movements, — Largo, Adagio, Oan- zona allegro. Grave and Allegro, ail in the key of F, save one, which is in the relative minor. It is to be noted that, in the Suites of this era, the same monotony of key was observed throughout the entire work ; and it is the more singular, when we recollect that, in the fugues of the same time, the contrast of tonic and dominant was so readily recognized, and even insisted upon. But the Suite form, even with the most elastic treatment, was not to exist in its old shape for any protracted period. Spite of the fiict that two great geniuses, Bach and Handel, used it, the constant dance rhythms, unrelieved by any free development, were sure to become tiresome to the musical mind. THE BISE OF THE SONATA. 47 It has l)ccome customary, with many commentators upon the sonata, to speak of Corelli (1653-1713) as the father of the sonata hut, although we have great admiration for the ingenuity and symmetry of much of this old master’s work, we can only discover that he adopted so varied a style in his different sonatas that he has in one or two instances anticipated more modern effects. He was not greater in this respect than Purcell ; but, in some of his sonatas, we find the beginning of the binary form, to be spoken of later, which eventually became one of the charac- teristics of the important first movement of the sonata. But he seems not to have kept steadily at any one form, and his efforts at reform were rather tentative than regularly directed. With Domenico Scarlatti, (1683-1757) a slight advance from the suite was made. Of his more than sixty “ Sonatas,” we can briefly say that, while they are not at all in the cyclus form of the modern sonata, yet they exerted a certain influence toward it ; for they contain, in embryo, the form of the above-men- tioned allegro movement, the most important part of the sonata, having not only the division of this move- * The following is a list of some of the old sonata composers : Graziani, Cesti, Lully, Purcell, Corelli, the two Scarlattis, Knh- nau, Buononcini, Mattheson, the Bachs, Handel, Schobert, Fres- cobaldi, Alberti, Galuppi, Paradisi, and Wagenseil. 48 THE REALM OF MUSIC. ment into two portions as in the later “ first move- ments” of Haydn and Mozart, but a repetition of the first division . But , among the old masters who contri b- uted to speed the coming of this greatest of musical forms, the chief was Philip Emanuel Bach, who may be called the father of modern pianoforte playing, so often has he anticipated the forms and effects of more modern composers. In the sonatas of his father, John Sebastian Bach, we find already the three movements of the sonata as in Mozart’s day, and in somewhat the same order ;* but, when we examine the form of these movements separately, the analogy ceases. There is no formal relationship of themes, no development, no coda. In the sonatas of Philip Emanuel Bach (1714-1788), however, we find a con- trasting of themes and a brilliancy in modulation, even if we do not yet find the development of themes or their careful relationship as to importance, so that the principal theme may be readily distinguished from the second theme. This composer was especially ele- gant in his rondos, and there is no question that the careful study of his forms by Joseph Haydn led to the ideas which culminated in the rise of the sonata proper. Of course, the sonatas of Philip Emanuel Bach *Kulmau is said to have been the first to regularly establish the three-movement form. THE BI8E OF THE SONATA. 49 contained three movements, for the limiting of such works to this number had now become almost uni- versal ; but, with him, we find a formal arrangement of the order of these movements, the first and last being rapid and the interior one slow. It will be seen from this that it is almost impossible to find the real originator of the old form which was known as the sonata. We find composers, through a period of about one hundred and fifty years, making attempts to bring into existence a new musical form, one which by its contrasts, its symmetry, and the treat- ment of its themes and parts, should become the best possible shape for instrumental music. Occasion- ally, this old and varying form approaches that which we now hold as our own, and again it recedes far away from it, and becomes a fantastic romance, with- out definite shape. Sometimes, as with John Sebas- tian Bach, it is chiefly contrapuntal in character, and shows plainly the influence of the fugue form, and again, under Philip Emanuel Bach, it becomes homo- phonic, and, in the modern sense, melodiously har- monic. A longer research into the older works would prove unavailing. Among the biographers, one will find only hostile and irreconcilable statements on every hand. One states that Purcell only copied Corelli ; another that Scarlatti was the true founder of the sonata ; a third party ascribes to Philip Eman- 50 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. uel Bach the entire honor of the title ; and the par- tisans of Kuhnau, Paradisi, Galuppi, Wagenseil, and others, each put forth their claims. From all these conflicting statements, one fact can surely be de- duced ; — there was a persistent and steady eflbrt being made toward a new form, but only thus much had been established : the new sonata was to consist of a cyclus of movements ; these were to be three in number ; of these, the central movement was to be in slow tempo. The first movement, and sometimes the last, was to be in binary form. That was all that had been settled up to the advent of the man to whom alone belongs the title of being the father of the sonata, — Joseph Haydn. Mozart improved it, and gave it a more artistic form : Beethoven brought it to its highest development : but neither of these statements invalidates the fact that with Joseph Haydn began the composition of the true, modern sonata. Haydn wrote thirty-four sonatas for piano alone ; and his numerous quartets, symphonies, etc., must also be reckoned among his contributions to this instrumental form. In his orchestral works and string quartets, he fixed the shape of the sonata for all time, and even brought it very near to its highest development ; but, in his pianoforte sonatas, he was less definite. The value of his pianoforte sonatas as studies of form, varies greatly ; and it is a curious THE BISE OF THE SONATA. 51 fact that, as in the earliest sonatas of Beethoven (op. 2, for example) , one finds the influence of Haydn strongly marked, so, in the later sonatas of Haydn, one finds unmistakable traces of the influence of Beethoven. That Haydn did not develop the form of his piano- forte sonatas as he did that of his quartets and symphonies is easy of comprehension. The string quartet and the orchestra were very nearly what they are today ; but the piano was yet comparatively a primitive instrument, on which but few effects could be produced, and which was at its best only in melody or light harmony. It was scarcely probable that the master should pay great attention to the use of the highest form of composition when writing for this tinkling instrument. Many of the formal phrases, pretty cadences, and light embellishments of Haydn’s Piano Sonatas (and also those of Mozart) had their rise not in the weakness of the composer, but in the insuf- ficiency of the instrument to produce grander effects. Although we have *said that Haydn learned much from Philip Emanuel Bach, it must also be stated that there was a wide difference between them in their treatment of themes. With Bach, the themes burst forth in profusion : he has a wealth of invention that is marvellous, and is essentially modern in many of his thoughts. Haydn is fully as melodious ; but the 52 THE BE ALM OF MUSIC. themes, in his sonatas, are more logically treated, and, in his later sonatas, the second theme is made of proper importance, and brought into fixed relation- ship with the first or chief theme. The weak spot in many of Haydn’s earlier sonatas is the inconse- quential character of the last movement. This rarely becomes a real climax, is often a minuet rhythm, and is not an advance on the finale (the Gigue) of the old Suite. His constant use of the rondo was, as before intimated, a result of careful study of the works of Philip Emanuel Bach. The difference in time between the birth of Haydn and that of Mozart was twenty-four years, but it was not a period of rapid advancement in form ; and, after Haydn had established the shape of the sonata, no important changes took place until Mozart began to make his influence felt. It is said that Mozart also was influ- enced in his forms by a Bach, — not the great Philip Emanuel, but his younger brother, Johann Christian Bach, the so-called “ London” Bach. But just how far this influence worked upon his labors in the field of sonata is at least problematical. The shape of the Mozart Sonatas is not widely different from that of Haydn, but the finales are generally better climaxes than the last movements of the older master. His rondos, too, have less formal divisions, and become more homogeneous than those of Haydn. His slow THE ItlSE OF THE SONATA. 53 movements, are somewhat formal, however, in their succession of set eml)ellishnients, trills, runs, and turns, these ornaments being the result of the stac- cato character of the harpsichord and piano. The slow movement was almost invariably the central one in Mozart’s sonatas, which were all of three move- ments, filling therefor the same function that the Saixthande had done in the old Suite, And now, an Italian figure enters upon the field, a man who, although less forcible in his musical thoughts than Mozart or Haydn, yet possessed great clearness of expression, and never swerved from a symmetrical and intelligible form. This was Muzio dementi. This composer, although he did not orig- inate any remarkable additions to or changes of sonata form, yet did much to give it clearness and to make it permanent. He accepted the three-move- ment form which Haydn had established, but in one instance used a four-movement form ; and, in another sonata, he attem[)ts a touch of modern “ programme music” by using the title of “Dido Abandoned.” Even in this case, he did not in the least deviate from his set form, but became more rigid than ever. It is a peculiarity of this master that in his greatest works, where one would expect freedom and ease of style, he becomes a veritable schoolmaster, and gives canons, direct and inverted, and other touches of 54 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. learning rather than of emotion. The ‘‘Abandoned Dido,” in all her grief, is kept in as dry a form as if she were an exercise ; but, strange to say, in the exercises which were written for purposes of instruc- tion, there is far less of pedantry and far more geniality and spontaneity. Among the composers of this time must be named Dussek, who had not dementi’s sterility, and yet kept as thoroughly within the bounds of form. His melodious and at times very interesting works, together with those of Hummel, have been too long suffered to remain upon the shelf. They should be more frequently heard in concerts and drawing-rooms.* And now, with the central figure of sonata history, we draw to a close ; Beethoven had little to do with the rise of the sonata, but everything with its culmi- nation. It was natural that he should have used the four-movement form in his sonatas, although Haydn and Mozart had only used it in their string quartets or orchestral works ; for with Beethoven everything was handled in an orchestral manner, and many of his sonatas could easily have been turned into sym- phonies or sinfoniettas. With Beethoven came free- * Hummel can most especially be recommended to the con- scientious student as a sure road to a clear technique. He is most moderate in his use of the pedal, and a good finger-action is certain to result from an employment of his piano works in tuition and practice. rilE mSE OF THE SONATA. 55 (lorn of form into the hitherto formal sonata. But it must be l)orne in mind that he did not abolish any form, but sim})ly enlarged its limits. In other words, he ruled the form, but was not ruled by it. In Beethoven's sonatas, one sees clearly mirrored the different epochs of his career, the three classes or periods into which German commentators have divided his works. The Sonatas, opus 2, have a clear sym- metry that is inspiring, but are plainly an outcome of Haydn’s teaching, and show us Beethoven filtered through Haydn. Opus 7 already shows freedom of thought in the limits of strict form, and in opus 13, the Sonata Pathetique, one finds that the form is no longer a hindrance, but rather an aid to the highest expression ; and this clearness of form and wealth of expression is continued up to the four latest sonatas. But in these latter, Beethoven begins to strive beyond the form he himself has adorned. Not that these works are without form — on the contrary, one can find in them continuity, fitness, and logical sequence, — but they are nevertheless no longer in the set, sonata limit, and have opened the door to sonatas by modern composers where but three ideas rule, — continuity of motives, thematic development, and contrast. Beethoven brought the Symphonic Minuet (which, by the way, had long ceased to be merely a dance) into the sonata, but not as Haydn often did 56 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. in the “ minuet and variations” form, finale, but as one of his two interior movements. He afterwards gave this place to the scherzo, which was his in- vention (although Haydn had used two unimportant ones in string quartets previously) and in which he was able to display all his quaint humor — one of his remarkable characteristics — and also to make an ex- cellent contrast with the great earnestness of his slow movements. He also gave the variation form, as a sonata movement, a far deeper significance and a more important place than it had held under Haydn’s treatment. ^Ve now find the form, which grew painfully and slowly out of the old dances of the Middle Ages, in its fullest development, — a perfect medium of musical expression, a symmetrical combination of the emotional and the intellectual. It is true that other sonata composers would form an interesting study to our readers. IVeber, Schubert, Mendelssohn* Schumann, Brahms, Bennett, Liszt, and others, have written sonatas which deserve analysis. But these are all more or less tinged with each composer’s charac- * Meiidelssolni’s Organ Sonatas are in the “ Old Sonata,” free stjde. Schumann led to a rather formless free stjde in the mod- ern sonata, and was followed in this hj' Liszt. The two last- named composers use an almost continuous development in their sonatas, and rely more upon this than on a fixed relationship of themes. THE RISE OF THE SONATA. 57 teristics, and are interesting rather because of this than because they have exerted an influence upon sonata form. With Beethoven, we find the sonata reaching its culmination, and therefore his great name appropriately closes the history of the Kise of the Sonata, LAW AND MUSIC. The connection between these two subjects is much more intimate than the general reader may imagine ; for, from times which may almost be called prehis- toric, the art of music has called forth statutes and strange legal enactments. The earliest of these are to be sought for in Egypt, where musicians were held in very slight esteem, and were obliged by law to dwell in certain quarters of each city, not unlike the Ghettos in which the mediaeval rulers imprisoned the Jews. The ancient Egyptian musician was also obliged to train his children in the art ; and the caste was thus kept distinct, and transmitted from father to son for centuries . China, in the earliest times, affords striking exam- ples of legislation regarding the art of music. It must be borne in mind that the use of music in China, four thousand years ago, was a very moral and commend- able one. Useful precepts, valuable instructions in science, art, agriculture, etc., and historic legends, were all preserved or imparted by means of song. ( 58 ) LAW AND 3IUSIC. 5ii The rules governing the making of musical instru- ments ( founded on correct acoustical principles ) were also laid down by law. When, therefore, in the early part of the Christian era, the usurping Tschin dynasty ( from which China, or more properly Tschina, takes its name ) came into power, they di- rected their greatest energy against the art of music, which kept alive in the Chinese patriotism, heroism, and devotion to the dynasty which had ruled their forefathers. The old songs were abolished by law, a new musical system was established, and all the old instruments were called in, to be remodelled accord- ing to it. To retain or conceal any of the old instru- ments or musical manuscripts was punished by death ; yet many a Chinese musician braved this doom by burying his treasures or casting the more imperishable instruments, such as the King, or Chinese musical stones, into some river, whence, centuries after, they might be ( and were ) rescued intact. Chinese laws regulate also the religious music used at the Feast of the Ancestors, — the most solemn of all Chinese festi- vals, — and direct at which point of the compass each instrument shall be placed, and what the proportions of the instruments shall be to each other. Of the Hebraic laws concerning music and musical instruments, it will be unnecessary to speak. The Scriptures are explicit enough upon the subject, and 60 THE BEALM OF HUSIC. even the construction of trumpets becomes the subject of a divine law. In Athens and ancient Greece generall}', music was left rather to the law of public opinion than to special legislation; yet, even here, we find enactments rela- tive to the formation of choruses. The founders of the chomses which played so important a part in the Greek tragedies ( for the Greek play was not unlike the modern opera ) were nominated by the archons, or chief magistrates, and were obliged, if they ac- cepted the office, to provide suitable food, lodging, raiment, and instruction for the singers, and espe- cially to guard against their eating anything pre- judicial to rthe voice. From chance expressions in the works of several Latin and Greek writers, we learn that pickles and certain highly spiced pre- serves were to. be avoided by vocalists, and that lying on the back, with plates of lead on the stomach, was esteemed beneficial. In Eome, the earliest musical laws refer to funeral music, and regulate the number of fiute players who shall participate in the ceremonies. Evidently this law was caused by a growing extravagance in Eoman obsequies. The fiute players themselves were the cause of many other laws, for they formed one of the most important guilds of ancient Eome ; and, as they Avere LAW AND MUSIC. 61 necessary at all religious rites, holding a position similiar to that of the organist in modern times, it was found advisable to enact laws relative to their privileges, and to prevent them from arrogantly taking advantage of their power. Naturally, in Rome as well as Greece, there were laws govern- ing the musical contests at the great games ; but these come rather under the head of rules and regulations than of statutory enactments. When the pagan rites were in their decline, laws relating to the advancement of music in the tem})les were made. The Emperor Julian, called the Apos- tate, keenly observed that music was an important factor in the Christian service, while the pagan cer- emonies had few good singers, and 1)ut little instru- mental music of a worthy character. He issued edicts to form a conservatory at Alexandria, to which he intended to send the Roman youth to be educated in music. He fixed prizes and remunerations for those who should excel in their studies, and the expenses of each student were to be borne by the State. The intention was to build up a race of singers, to give an added charm to the worship of the gods ; but, before the edicts came into force, the emperor died, and the scheme was abandoned. The earliest laws of the Christian emperors regard- ing music related to the asylums of the Church, 62 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. which were, in fact, conservatories of music, where orphan children were instructed in religion and in music. In fact, many of the early popes and saints were to some extent music teachers, and the doc- trine of sparing the rod was by no means followed in their training, since the switches which aided in the instruction of the young musicians are still shown in some of the older Italian monasteries. After the music of the early Christian Church had been established by law and custom, there was still legislation necessary to firmly suppress the rivalries which sprang up between different schools of church music, and this legislation was by no means always ecclesiastical. Charlemagne, for example, sustained the Gregorian chant against the Ambrosian by issu- ing edicts decreeing that the former only should be used in the churches of France. The next important legislation on the subject of music in Europe was not so innocent. It was the suppression of the minnesingers of Germany, because these noble poet musicians had satirized Church and priest too freely. Attached to these knights were musicians of a humble estate, who played their ac- companiments and copied down the verses or melodies of their noble patrons. These were called jinglers, or jongleurs, and gave rise to the modeim tribe of jugglers, for they often added to their slender income LAW AND MUSIC. T)3 by exhibiting tricks of sleight of hand, or performing bears or monkeys. It went hard with the pooi-yoji- gleurs after the suppression of troul>adours and min- nesingers, for the rulers almost everywhere made laws against “travelling musicians and vagabonds,” and they could be arrested at the will of any country justice, and sent to jail for a long term. In some countries, this law (although long since obsolete) has never been repealed, and is still on the statute books. It would make an interesting study to ascertain how many of these ancient laws still remain in existence. In England, a man was recently arrested on a nearly forgotten law, forl)idding driving through the streets during church time. In the same country, during the early part of this century, a convicted murderer es- caped all punishment by claiming trial by combat ; that is, that his innocence or guilt might l)e i)roven by a duel with the attorney-general (the latter emphatic- ally declining the test) , and it was found that the right of demanding such a duel had never been re- pealed. The English laws respecting the Christmas street-singers, or “ waits ” were also in existence until very recently. Originally, these were court pages, whose duty it was to patrol the court at night, and pro- claim the hour with a pious song.* The pay of such * The custom recently existed in Nuremberg, and is finely used by W'agner in his opera, The Mastersingers of Nuremberg. 64 THE BEAL3I OF 3IUSIC. a wait is thus quaintly described by an old English writer of the time of Edward IV : ‘ ‘ He eateth in ye halle with mynstrieles, and taketh at nyghte a Ioffe, a galone of ale, and for Sommere ij candles pich, a bushele of coles ; and for Wintere nights a half Ioffe of bread, a galone of ale, iiij candles pich, a bushele of coles. . . . Iffe he be syke, he taketh twoe loves, ij messe of great meat, one gallone of alle.” One would imagine that the many gallons of ale would eventually have hurt his voice. The modern waits pursue their calling about Christ- mas time in England. Chambers speaks of the law concerning them thus: “Down to the year 1820, perhaps later, the waits had a certain degree of official recognition in the cities of London and West- minster. In London, the post was purchased : in Westminster it was an appointment, under the con- trol of the high constable and the Court of Burgesses. A police inquiry about Christmas time in that year brought the matter, in a singular way, under public notice. Mr. Clay had been the official leader of the waits for Westminster ; and, on his death, Mr. Monro obtained the post. Having employed a number of persons in different parts of the city and liberties of Westminster to serenade the inhabitants, trusting to their liberality at Christmas as a remuneration, he was surprised to find that other persons were, un- LA ir AND AW SIC. 65 authorized, assuming the rights of i)laying at night, and making ap})lications to the inhabitants for Christ- mas boxes. Sir R. Baker, the police magistrate, promised to aid Mr. Monro in the assertion of his claims ; and the result in several police cases showed that there really was this ‘vested right’ to charm the ears of the citizens of Westminster with nocturnal music.” At present, of course, the business of Christmas wait is free to all. In Germany there have been several laws regard- ing drum and trumpet music ; and at one time there was an actual guild, or fraternity of truni[)eters, exist- ing under the protection of the law. The last relic of these laws was repealed in Leipzig some half-cen- tury ago. It forbade the use of drums at any ball where no nol)leman or person of official station was present. The people used to fill the letter of this law by inviting some poor sub-professor, who was glad enough to have the opportunity to join the fes- tivities ; but it is curious to find the noisy drum thus ranked as a prerogative of the aristocracy. The most important of the French laws relative to music are those establishing the Conservatoire at Paris, those regulating musical pitch, those giving subventions to the opera, and those protecting operatic composers by giving them a royalty upon every per- 66 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. formance of their works. The last-named law is especially important, and should be imitated by all other countries. It was first enacted in favor of dramatists iu 1697, although, even in 1653, there is an instance of a dramatist (Quinault) receiving a royalty. The rate at first was one-ninth for pieces of five acts and one-twelfth for pieces of three acts, after the regular expenses of the theatre had been paid from the receipts. This was vastly dif- ferent from the German treatment of both drama- tist and composer, i. e., leaving them entirely at the mercy of the manager. In the matter of fostering and encouraging their composers, strange to say, no nations are so careless as Germany and Italy. Amer- ica, France, England, and Russia have been to the pinched composers of the above countries veritable Eldorados. Perhaps this is a legitimate result of a law of de- mand and supply, and talent must be most honored in those countries where it is rarest ; but still it seems probable that something must be lacking in the true art-culture of a people who allow their greatest men to remain on the border land of starvation. Let us briefly look over the list of a few of the more prominent names, and see if we can prove our statement. We begin with Beethoven, who was at- tacked during his earlier career with an especial bit- LAW AND MUSIC. r>7 terness by the critics, who evolved such sentences (yerhatim) , as these : — “ Beethoven piles difficulty upon difficulty for the mere sake of displaying his musical knowledge ; and, after all, it is a crude and undigested knowledge which he shows.” — “Beethoven cannot write varia- tions. lie does not understand how to choose a proper theme, and when chosen, does not understand how to treat it to best advantage. Let him study how to write variations, from Mozart.” Beethoven’s life was an active one ; he had no expensive habits ; in his latter days he was world-renowned ; yet he left behind him a fortune of about $1500 only. Perhaps it may be thought from the above criti- cisms that Mozart was a more popular success : so indeed he was, but it never (in Germany) could crys- talize into money. He received unlimited amounts of — approbation. His salary in Vienna amounted to 800 gulden (about $500) i)cr annun. The papers of his day praise him for declining other, better offers elsewhere ; but the thought that he should be pecu- niarily rewarded or assisted did not enter the heads of his eulogists. Haydn, after being Porpora’s boot-black in his youth, became Esterhazy’s lackey in his manhood, and would have continued as a sort of u})per servant until his death, if he had not chanced to go to England, 68 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. and been received there with the homage which that unmusical nation gave (especially in the last cen- tury) to men of musical genius. Then^ on his return to his master, he begged that he might not be ad- dressed as a servant (in the third person) , any more, and the prayer was graciously granted. Lortzing was a success in his day. His operas were the delight of all Germany ; but that did not bring him anything more solid than fame. When he died, there was not money enough left to his fam- ily to bury him. Schubert was left in the same pitiable condition, even when his songs became popular throughout the nation. Of the more recent composers, Goetz died miser- ably poor, and Franz, after years of poverty in Halle, is relieved and made independent by subscriptions chiefly from England and America. In Halle, when the latter composer was engaged as capellmeister, it was expressly stipulated that he was not to perform any of his own compositions. Instances might be multiplied, were it necessary ; but the fact is too pal- pable that, in Germany, the dramatist, poet and musician are totally unprotected, and suflfer more than in other nations. The remedy for such an unjust state of affairs is easy to find. France has, as we have seen above. LAW AND 3IUSIC. 69 already found it. Secure to the composer, author or dramatist the profit of his own brains ! Let the gov- ernment step in between manager, publisher, and writer, and prevent the two first-named enriching themselves at the expense of the last. Had Lortzing written his operas in France, he would have died a millionaire instead of a beggar. After Mozart had died in poverty, his son’s needs were relieved by receiving (years after) the com- poser’s tantieme from Paris, while Germany contin- ued in serene enjoyment of the composer’s works, forgetful of all obligations. It may be said, en pas- sant, that Benedix, Grillparzer, and other well- known German men of letters, would have been affluent instead of half-starved, had the French law extended to Germany. But France does even more : it recognizes the duty of the government to assist genius that has not ar- rived at the stage of productiveness which can draw sustenance from the purse of the public. Prizes which are of solid cash are frequently competed for, and occasionally the government steps in with an order bringing both fame and money to the recipient. This was the case with Berlioz, whose works were not calculated to bring an immediate return to his purse. lie was admired in Germany : he was not understood in France ; yet, had he lived in the former THE BEALM OF MUSIC. country, his condition would have been more ham- pered than it was in France. The French system of tantiemes., prizes, and orders, is the true way to as- sist the struggling artist. It will never be effected by funds for indigent musicians, nor by the sporadic efforts of private artistic patrons, such as Paganini, Liszt, etc. The legislation of the near future in regard to music is of the greatest importance to every musi- cian, especially the establishment of an unrestricted international copyright. At present, the European composer is not benefitted in any tangible way by any success, which his works may achieve in America; and the American composer stands in the same plight as regards any possible European success. The re- lationship is just now an unequal one, and the ad- vantages of a copyright law would accrue almost entirely to the European ; but the gradual equali- zation of musical merit, and the fundamental princi- ples of justice, bid fair to operate in the matter, and soon this, also, will take its place as an important instance of the combination of Law and Music. THE DEVELOPMENT OE MUSICAL NOTATION. If there exists in the world at present any approach to a universal language, it is surely found in music and its written characters. In all the most civilized countries, the meaning of these characters is under- stood and interpreted correctly. To trace the rise of such a universal language must be a most inter- esting task. Like all other languages, we find mu- sical notation to have been gradually developed. To no single name can be ascribed the glory of its in- vention, and seldom even of a marked and important improvement. The first nation whicli reduced music to a written system was China ; and the invention of a simple and comprehensive short-hand writing by means of straight lines of various lengths and combinations, (which may, in some respects, be compared to the code used in telegraphy) seems to have come into use at almost the same time, and has, by some super- ficial writers, been confounded with the system of Chinese notation. ( 71 ) 72 THE BEALM OF 31USIC. The musical notation of the Chinese, however, is composed of the same hieroglyphs which constitute the stupendous alphabet (if it can be called so) of that nation. The invention of both the above sys- tems of writing is ascribed to Fo Hi, one of the semi-mythical characters of Chinese history, whose ad- ventures so closely resemble those of one of our Scrip- tural characters that some commentators have en- deavored to prove him to be the Noah of the Bible. The ancient Greeks seem to have partially bor- rowed their notation from the Chinese. The Grecian notation was also made up of letters taken from their alphabet. The first eight letters were used ; but, instead of proceeding from the lowest note upward, they began with the highest note and ran down the scale. This odd circumstance was for years one of the chief stumbling-blocks in the way of deciphering the few manuscripts which have been left us of their music. The entire Greek nomenclature in music seems to have been diametrically opposite to modern ideas. They regarded the descending scale as more natural than the ascending one, and, in speaking of the “ highest note,” referred to the longest string of the harp, which naturally meant the lowest tone. The constant growth of the Greek music necessitated con- stant changes in the style of notation, and finally the alphabetical letters were written in various positions THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 73 to denote ehromatie elianges. It is unfortunate for inodern eoininentators on the notation of the aneient Greeks that no entirely reliable speeiniens exist. Even the three Greek hymns, which were first pub- lished by Vincenzo Galileo (father of the great astronomer) in 1580, are more than doubtful in many of their details. There are so many clear directions for the study of music in the works of Quintilian and others that, if a true copy of any of the vast rc})er- toire of Greek music could be found, there is not much doubt that it would be read with more unanimity than has been dis})layed in the endeavor to elucidate the hymns to Apollo, Calliope, and Nemesis, which have been unearthed. It is one of the greatest of prol)al)ilities that such music will yet be discovered in Pompeii, which was the summer residence of the fashionable Roman world, and where music must have had a strong foothold. Naturally, however, even at the period of the destruction of that city, copies in Greek notation of the Athenian music (which reached its zenith in the reign of Pericles) must have been rare. The Romans seem to have copied their notation chiefly from the Greeks, but many alterations were made to suit the differences of the alphabet and lan- guage. The letters were no longer placed in vary- ing positions, but were extended in some instances 74 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. as far as O. There are few such explicit writers upon music among the Romans as among the Hellenic phi- losophers. The chief knowledge of their notation and general musical system is derived from the works of Boethius, who has been styled the “ last of the Romans,” as he lived just before the downfall of the Western Empire. He was put to death by Theodoric, the Goth, in 525. Boethius, all through the Middle Ages, was the leading authority on an- cient music. He wrote in Latin, which was far more generally knoAvn to the monks than the less orthodox Greek, and he was regarded (on entirely insufficient evidence) as a Christian, who had probably suffered martyrdom. His influence upon the entire musical system of the Middle Ages was bad. Through him, the complexities of Greek notation and nomenclature were perpetuated, and, as he wrote at a time when Roman music was in entire decay, he only gives the Greek system at second-hand, and even then seems not to fully understand it, having probably gained his knowledge entirely in a theoretical manner from hazy Greek treatises. The Greek system of notation, by letters only, seems to have had one fatal shortcoming. It spoke to the mind only, and not to the eye. A row of let- ters could not instantly convey to the mind the sense of rise and fall in pitch : it needed something more graphic to impress the undulations of melody without THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION 75 a process of mental effort. Such a system soon superseded the Grecian method of notation. In the JVeumes^ we hnd the beginnings of an effort to appeal to the eye as well as to the thought. The chief ele-^ ments of this mode of notation were the vertical line I (called virga), the dot. , and the horizontal line, — (called Jacens) ; and after these, came the upward loop, (called g^lica ascendens) , and the downward loop, ^ (called descendeyis) , besides a host of other similar characters. These marks were placed directly over each syllable ; and while they could not give the exact pitch to the singer, they served very well to show the direction in which the voice should go, and also indicated roughly the length of the note. They were, in short, merely guide-posts to assist the memory of the singer in the rendering of a song previously learned. Our signs for a continued trill, a turn, and mordente are direct legacies from this ancient style of notation, which first appears in manuscripts of the seventh and eighth centuries. Apart from the great defect that the JN'eumes could not represent a melody to a person who had not previously heard it sung, there were many varieties of this mode of musical mnemonics, no two of which were quite alike ; and the result was that each had only a limited scope. One manuscript of the fifteenth century speaks of forty kinds of mnemonic notation. 76 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. The Neumes derived their greatest usage from the fact that this form of notation was prol:)ably the one used by Gregory the Great, when he gathered the remnants of the church chants of his era, and caused them to be transcribed, bound into books, and chained to the church altars. How superficial the knowledge of the Neume notation was, and what a circumscribed influence it exerted, can be understood from the fact that, when Eomanus carried an authen- tic copy of Gregory’s Antiphon from Eome to St. Gallen, he found it necessary to affix explanatory marks to the Neume notation. This was in the year 790, and the w^orks had been compiled in the pre- vious century. Even at this time, it was found ne- cessary to form a new notation, for the benefit of in- strumental performers especially. For this purpose, composers again turned to the old Greek system. The letters of the alphabet were used as before, but not in a descending manner. A major scale, corre- sponding to the diatonic scale, which we begin on C, was represented by the letters, — A B C BE F G A This was afterward changed to represent a minor scale, in an effort to bring it more in consonance with the old Greek theory. Odo, of Cluny, is credited with making this reform during the tenth century, thus fixing a nomenclature wdiich has existed down to THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 77 the present time. As harmony was yet unknown and as the melodies weie generally of slow move- ment, this mode of notation may have been found adequate for the mediaeval organist ; l)ut it was evi- dent that from the moment that counterpoint began the notation would fail utterly, and it is one of the strongest proofs that the ancient Greeks possessed no harmony, that a similar, crude method should have existed among them, with no attempts at improve- ment or eiforts at complaint. This system, however, was used in connection with the Neumes for a long time ; but efforts were still being made to make the latter more fixed and definite. Thus, in the later manuscripts of this notation, we find the first signs of musical expression. F was the sign for loudness, but signified fragor. T meant teneatur or tenuto. Accelerando or allegro were pic- tured by a C, — celeriter. An endeavor was also made to outline the pitch in Neume notation l)y drawing a red line across the manuscript. This line, which, represented F, was the very beginning of modern staff notation. Another line, this time of yellow color, was soon added above the red one ; and this later line was to represent C. Soon, the colors of the two lines were omitted, and the letters F and C were placed at the beginning of each of them. From this arose our F and C clefs, which preceded the G 78 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. clef. All of the modern clef marks are but modifi- cations of the letters used by the monks to denote the pitch of their lines. It is amusing to see the tenta- tive efforts which were put forth on ev^iy side to in- crease the utility of the mediaeval notation. All was constantly changing, but these very changes prove that the art had begun to grow. But the staff notation, once evolved (even in such a crude and elementary state), was found too advantageous not to be adhered to. The changes thenceforth con- sisted chiefly in its application. From too few lines, the inventors sprang to far too many. Hucbald, a monk of St. Amand in Flanders, is said to have been the inventor of the foundation of modern nota- tation, the line system. He died about 932. He used at first the single and double lines ; but finally, discarding the Neume notation altogether, he began to use a staff of several lines, thus : — The letters at the beginning simply refer to the length of the interval, and indicate tones and semi- tones. In this staff, only the spaces were used, the TIIF DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 79 lines themselves not coming into play at all ; and, even in the spaces, notes were not used, but simply the syllables of the words to be sung were written. This, though seemingly an advance upon the old system, was in reality a retrogression, since, in the use of the F and C lines only, space and lines were both used. But the later system was invented with a purpose. Hucbald had -invented the beginning of harmony, at first a crude succession of empty fifths and fourths, called ovcjanum., and found that his dif- ferent voice parts could not (as he thought) be repre- sented upon any other than a many-lined staff, and therefore invented that to supply the need. His staff, with words, appeared as follows : — T. Do- T. mini T. Sit oria in Ilia bitur. S. glo- Do- ssec - ta - T. mini Ise - T. sit oria in uia bitur. S. glo- saec- ta - T. Do- lae - T. mini T. Sit oria in ula bitur. S. glo- Do- ssec- ta- T. mini lae - T. Sit oria in ula bitur. S. glo- S36C - ta- T. IJB- 80 THE MEAL3I OF MUSIC. The transcription of the above would be as follows : Hucbald used many other devices to obtain clear results in the field of musical notation. At times, he marked the commencement of each line with a Greek character denoting its pitch, instead of using the T and S, as above, and he invented new figures of his ,own to represent some notes. He even, in some of his latest manuscripts, used dots and lines to indicate (for the first time) short and long notes. In these efforts, we find the true begin- nings of modern notation. With the very begin- nings of part-writing, the old methods were found useless. Modern music seems to have necessitated modern notation. Soon after the staff invention of Hucbald, in w^hich the spaces only were used, by one of those revulsions often found in this period of musi- THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION 81 cal history, a notation was used, in which, although the many-lined staff appeared, the spaces were dis- carded altogether, and the lines only were used. A combination of both seems not to have occurred at once to the composers of the dark ages. In the time of that most practical music teacher, Guido d’ Arezzo, many great improvements were made. Guido, called “of Arezzo” from the town where he was born, surnames being unknown at that time, was a Benedictine monk at Pomposa, near Kavenna, between the years 1023 and 1036, and must therefore have been born not far from the year 1000. He was the most practical of musicians and teach- ers, and it is not strange therefore that we find him bringing order and practicality into the unwieldy mass of musical effort of his time. All his important reforms were made in the direct course of his teach- ing. At every new difficulty which arose, he w^ould assist the pupil by some new invention, or the novel application of some old theory. Our present vocal scale (solmization) arose from one of these practi- cal devices. It was one of Guido’s hardest tasks to fit his pupils to read a melody with any degree of cer- tainty. The vagueness of musical notation stood in his way at every turn. At last a happy thought struck him : he noticed that each line of the hymn 82 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. which the students sang daily to St. John (a very prosaic invocation to the saint to guard their throats from hoarseness, since they were) to be used in his honor) began with a different syllable, and also rose one degree at each phrase. The music was as fol- lows : — ri— 1 — i — j— 1 t f L ^ ^ & ^ ~A r # • ^ ^ I a r r L ^ ... □ UT qne - ant la - xis, RE -so - na - re , I ^ ^ -| "i • r r ^ - f — j — •— ... fl - bris, Ml - ra ge - sto-rum FA-nm-li tu o-rnm, SOL-ve pol - lu - ti, L A - bi - i re - r7=^. — r ^ ^ ^ -I — - r r r: r r .. ^ ^ ^ . ^ [I r h— r — ' -EE E — - a - tom, San - cte Jo - ban - nes. Here was Guido’s opportunity. He caused these syllables to be used to represent the notes by the students, who had already learned to associate them together in their minds, and the greater part of the modern scale was formed. It may be mentioned that the French today use ut as the first note of the scale, although other nations have changed it to do* * Guido’s scale was hexacliordal, and contained no “leading tone.” The seventh note was added in the next century, and received the name of “si.” THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 83 Into Guido’s personal history, we need not, in an article like this, dive very deeply; but we may briefly state that he betrayed a great contempt for the music teachers of his time, and seems to have been fully conscious of his own merits. His brother monks disliked him so cordially that he was finally forced to quit the monastery, a fortunate occur- rence, since, being called to Koine, his system ob- tained the necessary fame for its perpetuation ; after some time, he returned to Pomposa, laden with hon- ors, and passed his later years in perfecting his va- rious improvements and inventions. How much he actually invented in notation it is difficult to say, since he used the right of genius, and adopted the thoughts of others whenever he found them useful. He was also so much reverenced in the succeeding century that it became customary to call him the “ inventor of music,” and to ascribe any and every musical discovery to him. Such a halo is woven around him by the old musical writers that he becomes almost mythical to the modern reader. There is, however, no doubt that he added to the notation of Hucbald, and greatly advanced the crude system of the monk of St. Amand. There were two rival systems of notation existing at this epoch ; and Guido threw his power against the vagueness of the JSFeumm, and worked with might and main for the 84 THE REALM OF MUSIC. line (or staff) system. Taking the yellow, c line, and red, f line, he drew a black line between, to represent a. The staff was now represented thus : c Y ello w . « Black. f. Red . And, most important improvement of all, Guido used the spaces to represent notes as well. It was prac- tically the same as the modern staff. Besides this, there is evidence that Guido did not always confine himself to the three lines, but sometimes added a line above the yellow one to represent c, or below the red one to represent d. Guido’s notes were still bor- rowed from the Neumes, but he altered their shape somewhat, so that, even in these marks, we perceive the predecessors of modern notes. It was natural that Guido, after eliminating the vagueness from the Neumes, should still continue to use them, for, as he employed them on a fixed staff, they became not only notes but signs of expression as well. For the first time in the history of music, notation became a fixed science and its meaning definite. We learn that it caused astonishment at the time that one of the popes was able to read Guido’s musical manu- script at sight, which only proves how indefinite the previous methods of notation had been. Hucbald had invented, Guido had improved, the germ of mod- THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 85 ern notation. Naturally, such a notation did away with the old style of representing the notes by letters of the alphabet, but the latter system seems to have died hard. As late as the fifteenth century, some manuscripts appear, with a notation which consisted of the first fifteen letters of the alphabet. Such a notation appeared about as follows : — Qui tol- Us. pec - ca - ta and its solution would be as follows : Fr: ^ ^ 1 1 Qui — 1 1 1 — tol 1 1 — lis (S' si -(S' ^ pec - - - - ca - - ta Spite of the fixity which Guido gave to the JSFeumm, we cannot but feel that it Avould have been an ad- vantage, had he employed dots simply, to represent the notes. It left a number of unnecessary signs in the musical notation of his time. It developed itself at a later period into a more intricate series of signs, which were called the ‘ ‘ fly-track ” notation (pedes muscarum^) from the fact that the signs resemble nothing so much as marks made by a fly that has emerged from a sojourn in the inkbottle. Guido 86 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. probably never dreamed of a series of notes such as are used by the moderns, but undoubtedly fully anticipated the use of the staif and of clefs. The fixing of the length of notes was first thoroughly undertaken by Franco of Cologne , soon after Guido’s death. Franco seems, like Guido, not to have in- vented much, but to have practically applied the inventions of others. In the Ars Cantus Mensura- hilis^ of this writer, we come upon the true system of modern notation, although in a crude state. He pre- sents to us these notes : — Large Longa Brevis Semibrevis. The semibrevis was the shortest note in Franco’s system. He invented rules by which these notes could be made perfect or imperfect (an anticipation of plain and dotted notes) and the composer could therefore write in duple or triple rhythm at will. The perfect notes were held to be worth three lesser notes, in honor of the blessed Trinity — three in one. At the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth century, smaller notes began to be invented, down to sixteenth notes ; but these were seldom incorporated in the older melodies, everything less than the minim * This was the first practical treatise written on the subject of musical notation. THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 87 (half-note) being regarded as merely an embellisli- nient. At first, all notes were blaek, as above, al- though red notes (of one-fourth less value than the black ones) were sometimes used ; but toward the end of the fourteenth century, both styles were grad- ually supplanted by white, or outline, notes, much as we use today, save that the shape was square or oblong, instead of round or oval. These were gener- ally written on a staff of five lines, so that some of the manuscripts of the fifteenth century do not differ vastly from the notation used today. The rests were formed, even from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, almost exactly like those used at present. Second only to the great work of Franco is that of Walter Odington, an English monk of Evesham in Worcestershire, who existed in the thirteenth cen- tury, and seems to have been one of the best of the early English musicians. In his manuscript, now preserved at Caml)ridge, may be found the first traces of the five-lined staff, which, however, did not come into general use until centuries after. Very soon after Guido’s placing of the neumes upon a fixed basis by means of the use of the staff, the crude be- ginnings of accidentals appeared. These at first had reference to the note B, which was used in two ways by the ancient composers, the smaller seventh calling 88 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. out any necessary for a note somewhat lower than B ; while the larger seventh called for the natural B,. The result was that two kinds of B’s were used. The flatted note, even in the twelfth century, was represented by a small letter before it thus,^ The nat- ural note was often written with- b mark before it ; but, if it became to annul the flatted note, and restore d to its nat- ural position, a quadrated served to do this, and was written thus, i , Soon the first of the above signs became I JjS recognized as a means of lowering any | note, and the second as a means of raising or sharping one. It is evident that at first the quadrate B was only the sign which we now call a “ natural,” and had the same effect. It simply restored a B which had been made flat to its natural position. But the distinction between a sharp and a natural was a very vague one in the old times. If the sign was written before 5 or e, to be sure it had only the effect of a natural. If, how- ever, it appeared before A or any other note, it had the effect of a sharp. Its shape varies also in the old manuscripts ; and we find it written indiscrimin- ately, thus, I II I all of which seem to have had Q I Q the same signifi- cance. I I I I I We have spoken of the above signs as accidentals. THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 89 but they were rather used as signatures than other- wise. We find them marked at the beginning of staves of ancient compositions, but very seldom in any other part of the music. We have already alluded to the endeavor to import a theological lesson into music by means of indicating the Trinity in notes. It complicated musical mat- ters greatly in the twelfth century. Instead of fol- lowing the simple rule that one long a should be of the value of two breves., or that one brevis should equal two semibreves, it was endeavored to make each note of the value of three of the next smaller denomination, so that all the music of the world should be in triple rhythm. The rules which were adopted at this era make the task of reading the old music a very difficult one. If a longa, for example, followed a brevis, the former no longer possessed the value of three breves, but together with the preceding note formed a group equal in value to three. Some- times two breves (each of which according to this theological rule was worth but one-third of a loiiga) could attain the value of a longa, but never in equal parts, the first being twice as long as the second. It was, of course, impossilde that this effort to reduce all music to triple time should haAC succeeded. Many popular songs of that time, as Avell as the instrumental music, kept on in even rhythm undisturbed ; but. 90 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. unfortunately, very few specimens of the former, and none at all of the latter, are left to us. The music which was written for the Church at this epoch was all that had really a chance of preservation. With . the introduction of smaller notes than the semihrevis new rules appeared. The stem of Tonga., for ex- ample, was always turned down ; while that of the minim and the shorter notes was always turned up. This rule was abrogated for the sake of economy of space in the printing of music, which began early in the sixteenth century. The older music is altogether destitute of bar lines, the want of ready and system- atic division not being felt in the mensural chants and sacred music ; but, with the rise of operatic composition in Italy, this great improvement sprang at once into existence. Peri (in 1600) is said to have been the first practically to use the bar line in the modern style. Grouping of notes together, a great aid in the representation of rhythm, was not adopted until the beginning of the eighteenth cen- tury. Until that time, a passage like the following would have been written thus : — THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. 1 although John Playford, already in 1()()2 had evolved the system of natund grouping under the name of “tyed notes.” It was, however, adopted very slowly. The C and F clefs were the ones generally used in the music of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries ; and, even at a later period, the G clef was sparingly used.* The mark of repetition was similar to our modern one ; that is, dots were placed on each side of a thick bar. Sometimes there were two or three of these bars, which indicated that the passage was to be repeated as many times. The marks of rhythm in the older music were few. The signature of t\\Q perfectum (the religious three-in-one notation, before spoken of) was simply a circle. A half-circle, a circle with a dot in the centre, and a half-circle with a dot were the chief forms of denoting the imperfect or more complex rhythms. But, after the beginning of operatic com- position, the rhythm signatures took the simpler form of adopting the semibreve as the unit, and regulating all measures by their proportion to it. There has been no change in this method for the past one hun- dred and fifty years. With the perfection of the * Yet the marking of the G clef was known even in the thir- teenth century, according to some manuscripts in the author’s possession. 92 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. measure and the continual development of orchestral music, directions as to the mode of performance began to be placed at the beginning of compositions. We find Adagio, Allegro, etc., in use in the seven- teenth century. Accents, dynamic abbreviations, and marks of expression followed in the eighteenth century. In some (iases, the beginning of their use can be traced. The tie was first used by Peri, in the second opera (1600). The swell, was first used by Mazzocchi, in 1638. The term Da capo, or D. C., as we now abbreviate it, was first used by Alessandro Scarlatti in an opera, in 1693. In reviewing thus the outlines of the history of musical notation, we are constantly reminded of the fact that the system grew into existence gradually, in response to the needs of composition. It was the work of ages, and it is not surprising to find some of the ambiguities of the Middle Ages still existing in it. The sharp too closely resembles the natural ; the sign of restoration after a double flat or double sharp is ambiguous ; the use of the sharps and flats as accidentals, and the employment of the natural, are frequently different with different com- posers ; some terms — as for example — have not been understood or used alike by all com- posers ; the sextolet is used carelessly by many ; the THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL NOTATION. ht of the Raagni, or folk song, are almost entirely metaphor- ical, and, as almost all the legends of the Hindus bring in the phenomena of nature in one shape or another, anecdotes are told of a singer who could cause plants to grow by singing to them. Another was able to alter the course of the seasons by music. A third, like Joshua, was able to arrest the course of the sun by his tones. The prevention of a drought by means of the music of a singer who was able by this means to cause the rain to fall from the clouds is a favorite subject of Indian legends. There is one subtle differ- ence between many of the legends of India and those of Greece. In the Hellenic tales, it is generally the singer who is endowed with supernatural attributes, while in many of the Indian legends it is the music which is endowed with these gifts rather than the singer. Thus, one legend narrates the pitiful fate of a singer who was commanded by a ruler to sing the Fire-song, and who, upon obeying, w^as at once con- sumed by flames, although he had plunged into a river to avoid this catastrophe. 120 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. In China, too, we find many traces of similar good taste in celebrating the power of the music rather than the skill of the performer. The origin of music in China is ascribed to a mystical bird which bears a startling resemblance to the mythological Phoenix. It is called the Foang-hoang, and its appearance is regarded as a most favorable omen, auguring a reign of prosperity for the empire and presaging peace and plenty. It is said that originally the music of China was taken from the tones of this wonderful bird, which sans: five notes while its mate sans: seven, all of which were faithfully recorded by a philosopher who had been ordered to invent a music for the em- pire. But the tones of the female were not pure and celestial tones, and therefore the five tones of the male bird only w^ere used in forming the Chinese musical system. Another legend ascribes the rise of a certain class of songs to a good emperor who listened to the songs of the birds, and was so soothed and delighted thereby that he composed a music which was able to calm all passion , give perfect hap- piness, and prolong the life of man. But the person who of all others is honored as the inventor of Chi- nese music is called Fo-Hi, and is to the Chinese what Orpheus and Apollo were to the Greeks. This mythical personage is credited with the in- vention of almost all the arts. He brought written THE LEGENDS OF MUSIC. 121 characters to the Chinese, he invented a system of shorthand, and finally invented music. Ilis first songs were simply a code of ethics and morals set to tones. In order to add to the beauty of these songs, he in- vented the Kin, which is to China what the Vina is to India. In making this instrument, he symbolized various portions of the universe. The upper paid represented heaven, the lower the earth : another division was supposed to symbolize the winds, and still another the nest of the Foang-hoang. This in- strument could rule the passions and calm the heart. How closely all these myths are built upon some pre- existing model is proven by the fact that the adven- tures of Fo-Hi 'so closely resemble those of the Scrip- tural Noah that some commentators have endeavored to prove them to be one and the same person. In almost all the legends we have briefly scheduled, one .of two things is apparent — either the supernatural attril)utes of the hero picture, under the language of metaphor, some of the phenomena of nature, or the entire legend is founded upon the deeds and actions of some real personage, which have become exaggerated by time or by ignorance. We trust that, even in this necessarily short and imperfect paper, our readers will find a family resemblance in the myths, and thus become more conversant with the mode of their rise, and more interested in 122 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. the inferential history conveyed in the Legends of Music. MUSIC AND MEDICINE. The employment of music in the healing art is cer- tainly as old as the days of the patriarchs, and the singing of David before Saul was only a practical illustration of a theory which had long obtained re- cognition in Egypt. It is strange, however, that spite of the general acknowledgment of its efficacy, music has been so little employed as an assistant to materia medica. Up to the present time, the chief use made of medical music (if we may coin the expression) has been among the medicine and mystery men of sav- age nations, and in this case the instruments em- ployed have been rather of a noisy than of a musical nature. In certain species of St. Vitus’ dance, and tetanus, music has been employed with much success by European physicians. The most celebrated in- stance of this kind is the employment of lively dance rhythms for the cure of the bite of the tarantula. A rather full account of such a cure was sent to an Ital- ian medical review in 1841, in which the symptoms are vividly described. Although the patient was pre- ( 123 ) 124 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. viously unable to stand on his feet, a lively rhjdbmic tune caused him to jump from his bed and dance for two hours, after which he fell down exhausted, in a ]Drofuse perspiration, and slept quietly. A few repetitions of the dose caused a complete cure. It is a question whether any strong sudorific might not have attained the result without the aid of music, but the fact still remains that music was the only agency capable of rousing the patient from his comatose con- dition. In the Middle Ages there were many cures of St. Yitus’ dance accomplished by music. Strange to say, this disease became epidemic during several years in M'estern Europe. The practice of vocal music, under the most care- ful conditions, is to be recommended as a cure for consumption and bronchial affections in their earliest stages. But here it is not the music, but the gentle and regular exercise of the affected parts which brings the cure. Of the hygienic results of playing upon certain instruments, Engel speaks at considerable length in an .article on this subject. Quoting from Sundelin’s work he finds that the piano and stringed instruments are at times hurtful to the nervous sys- tem, the glass harmonica dangerously exciting to the nerves, the clarinet hurtful to the lungs, brass in- struments similarly hurtful, but in a less degree, and the harmonium or cabinet organ harassing to the nerves of the performer. MVSIC AND MEDICINE. 125 Much of this is of course fanciful, yet it is greatly to be desired that medical authorities should give their attention to studying the effects of the various instruments u})on health more closely. The medical side of music has not yet been exam- ined as closely as it should be, particularly in its connection with eye and ear. There are many phe- nomena regarding the physical part of tone perception that would repay investigation. Women as a rule can perceive tones higher than men. The right ear can perceive tones so high in pitch that they are in- audible to the left ear, showing plainly that the two sides of the brain are unequally developed. Most curious is the phenomenon, observable in certain cases, of the sudden obliteration of the sense of pitch ; there are, for example, persons in existence (and they can be found more frequently than is suspected) , to whom the highest notes of the piano are inaudible, while all others are clearly heard. The transition from sound to silence is sometimes very abrupt, the subject hearing one note distinctly, and another, perhaps a semitone above it, not at all. One of the most palpable cases of decay in the aural organs occurred with a very famous com[)oser, — Robert Franz. Ilis nerves were prostrated by the sud- den piping of a locomotive behind him, and a gradual and peculiar deafness set in. One by one the upper 12(5 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. notes of the tonal system vanished until he became almost totally insensible to high sounds. The lia- bility of all musicians to aural troubles is but a nat- ural result of an over use of one set of nerves. Bee- thoven’s deafness was unquestionably superinduced by an inherited disease but it was in all probability aggravated by his profession. Schumann suffered in his later years with false hearing, a symptom of in- sanity. Blindness attacks musicians at times, from the severe strain to which their eyes are subjected in many ways. Bach became blind, possibly because of his arduous application to music copying and en- graving. Handel was also blind in later years, prob- ably from the cause that weakens the sight of so many musicians — scorereading. There is no more abnormal use of the eye imagina- ble than the reading of a full orchestral or vocal score. The eye must not only read horizontally as in piano music, but must be used vertically as well, in a man- ner that tasks the nerves beyond any other reading that exists. Probably the nearsightedness and weak- ness of sight that is so characteristic of many musi- cians, especially in the foremost ranks, is more directly traceable to scorereading than to any other cause. There are other diseases which come from a too con- stant application to one instrument, and pianist’s 3IUSIC AND MEDICINE. 127 cramp is the direct result of exercising one set of muscles only (digital, wrist and forearm) and allow- ing the others to fall into desuetude. Ill the matter of vocal stimulants almost every public singer has some especial preparation for his throat which is used before concert or opera, and these are so different in their nature that the conclu- sion is forced upon the mind that the virtues of many of them lie chiefly in the imagination of the user. That such preparations for public performance are modern in origin, must by no means be supposed, for we read in Suetonius that the Emperor Nero, in the first century of our era, often laid upon his back with sheets of lead upon his stomach for hours at a time, before his appearance at the theatre, which was probably done to strengthen the diaphragm. The Greek choristers, in the fifth century before the Christian era, were accustomed to have their food regulated by the choragus. It must be borne in mind, however, that in those early days singing was a much more serious affair than at present, for the songs of Nero frequently lasted for six or seven hours, and the choristers in ancient Greece were accustomed to stand throughout the performance of an entire tragedy, in front of the stage, in the body of the auditorium, on spaces marked out for each chorister, or of not more than a square yard in extent. In the 128 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. ancient Coptic churches the singers also sang hymns of hours in length, and here the congregation was obliged to stand throughout the service o In our day the stimulants used by celebrated vocal artists are most various. Some hold smoking as ab- solutely injurious, while others, particularly German singers, pulf the weed vigorously between their songs and say that it prevents their catching cold, by warming their throat and nostrils. Some regard spiced foods of all kinds as deleterious, while on the other hand, a celebrated Swedish singer always ate a salt pickle before appearing in public. Cold tea is used by some as a mild astringent to clear the throat. Eggs beaten with milk is a favorite prescription with many. Eggs and sherry are used in England by many vocalists. In France the light wine of the country is freely used in many a green room. A famous prima donna of today uses champagne as best for her throat in an exhausting opera. Altogether it may well be doubted whether any preparation at all is necessary, only, of course, no meal or hearty eat- ing may })recede singing as the diaphragm cannot act freely when the stomach is full. The connection between music and madness is a well-established one. This connection is two-fold : on the one hand, many composers and musicians have exhibited a predisposition toward insanity ; and MUSIC AND MEDICINE. 129 Oil the other, music has proved of immense benefit to })ersons suffering with hypochondria or melancholia. This again is counterbalanced by the fact that in some instances music has caused melancholy and madness in auditors. It is said that when the first church 01‘gan ivas played in Europe (during the reign of Charlemagne) a lady who heard it went raving mad from the unexpected effects of tone. During the first performance of Haydn’s Symphony in D in London, a clergyman present was so touched by the adagio movement that he became impressed with the monomania that it })ortended his death. lie left the hall, plunged in deepest melancholy, and as a matter of fact, died a few days after. The connection of music with morals is a strong one, and would require a volume instead of an article to do it justice. The time may yet come when music will be regu- larly admitted as a part of materia medica. The intimate connection between the art and the science is most excellently set forth in a prize essay by Ephraim Cutter, M. D., L. L. D., read a few years ago, before the London Society of Science, Letters, and Art, and we cannot better conclude our discursive views on this important topic than by presenting the following excerpts from the work of this able and scientific physician. Dr. Cutter says : — 130 THE REALM OF MUSIC. “ At first sight there would seem to be but little connec- tion between medicine and music, nevertheless, music has to do with the hearing, with the voice in singing, with the res- piration in playing on wind instruments, and with a perfection of limbs in playing on stringed or other instruments. “ Anatomy shows us the wonderful structure of the ear, by which we feel the vibrations of the atmosphere. It shows the rods of Corti suspended in a liquid medium confined in a singular whorl-shaped cavity, which is provided with a mem- braneous window on which is a curious chain of bones, the stirrup, the anvil, and the hammer connecting with the drum of the ear, lying at the bottom of the external passage. Thanks to modern invention, the rhinoscope discloses also the pharynx and orifices of the Eustachian tubes. “ Anatomy has shown that the rods of Corti are the final media in the ear that transmit vibrations to the nerve centers. The number of 40,000 per second being the highest that can be perceived. “Anatomy has also shown the structure of the human larynx, throat and mouth, that have to do in the production of music, which may be called cantation. A great deal was learned from the dead larynx ; but when the laryngoscope was in- troduced, a new flood of light was thrown on the subject, and the difference was shown to be as great as that between life and death. “ The offices of the true vocal cords or bands, the false vocal cords or bands, the epiglottis, the passages through the mouth and nose, the use of the tongue and teeth, are now well known and described. Photography has even depicted the living larynx in its actual place and relations and in MUSIC AND MEDICINE. 131 action. Czerak, of Prague (about 1 862), was the first to photograph it. In November, 1865, the writer took the first photographs in America of the living human larynx (his own). Mr. F. Hardy, A. 13., now of Springfield, Mass., was his skilled assistant. Copies of these photographs are deposited in the U. S. Army Medical Museum at Washing- ton, D. C. “There is an interesting function of the false vocal bands, which, as it is not generally known, may be alluded to briefly here. The false vocal bands close during the act of holding the breath, and are probably the chief agents in retarding the emission of the breath during singing and phonation. This is an important office, and should give these bands a better name than ‘ false ' for their work is as ‘ true ’ as that of the vocal bands themselves. The writer calls them ‘ Breath Bands ’ “In singing, the tones are produced by the action of the vocal bands alone; these tones are, like the tones of a cornet, produced by the air passing through the lips on the embouchure of the mouth-piece. In ‘songs without words,’ the larynx ‘ plays ’ like an instrument ; but in songs with words the varied tones are modified by the position of the tongue, mouth and nares. The variations in pitch are governed by the length of the vibrating surface of the vocal bands. “ The vocal bands, therefore, are subject to the same rule as the strings of a ’cello. In the falsetto voice, the anterior two-thirds of the vocal bands vibrate very closely in produc- ing two line F. “ The false vocal hands must be of great use in the playing of wind instruments, because of their retentive power over the expiring breath. * * * 132 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. “ Music is harmonious motion, and penetrates the soul by more ways than one, and where phonatioii does not penetrate. It is a universal language, that reaches the heart and sympa- thetic nerves. It is a soother and soporific, and thus takes the place of drugs and is preferable to them. For example, when the use of opiates is done away with by music, the ad- vantage is in the avoidance of the bad effects of the ‘ opium habit,’ which may be acquired. The 'music habit,’ if I may be allowed to use the term, has nothing harmful in its effects, " Again, music is medicine to the weary adult, worn with business, work, and worriment of mind. A prominent New England clergyman, tired out with the duties of his profession, tells me that there is nothing so restful and soothing to his nerves as Haydn’s trios for the piano, ’cello and violin. I can testify to the same thing. May not this explain the secret charm of concerted music ? " When the soul and body are refreshed by the ‘ music medicine,’ we are ready to take hold of life’s duties with re- newed vigor and earnestness, and double work can be done in the same time that it took before. I suppose music quiets the sympathetic nervous system, which does a great part of the nerve work of tlie body. The nerves of the head (which are voluntary) when worried or overworked are sad disturb- ers of the sympathetic nerves ( Avhich are involuntary and automatic.) It is possible that the agreeable occupation of the cerebral nerve centers by a musical performance causes them to let the sympathetic nerves alone, and to cease with- drawing, or rather stealing, from them the energy which is their share. However it is done, the fact remains as stated, that the digestive, circulatory, secretive, nutritive, and repar- MUSIC AND MEDICINE.. 133 atory functions are l)ctter performed wlien the sympathetic nerves are let alone and allowed to do their work quietly. '‘To refer back to the nursery, when the mother ijistinctively sings her nursing baby to sleep on her bosom, lactation goes on smoothly and harmoniously, and the music soothes both mother and child ; but let some intelligence of a startling character suddenly disturb the mother, the babe’s food is no longer secreted, and it would do anything but sleep. “1 think I would go so far as to put music in the materia medica, after what has been said of it by many, as a remedy for insomnia, neurasthenia, and melancholia, as it could l)e harmlessly used for any length of time, ..and would be pleas- ant to all. * * * " An affecting story is told of a child, about two years of age, in the far west, who was stolen by Indians and kept till she was eight years old. The parents made every effort to find the child, without success. Finally, an officer of the United States Army brought the pilfering tribe and the be- reaved parents together. After a time, the parents singled out tlieir girl in lier savage costume, but could make no im- pression on her by which they could certainly recognize her. The child seemed dazed and astonished. The mother began to despair until an older child said, ' Mother, sing the lullaby that you used to sing to her when a baby.’ The mother did so. At once the lost child listened, became animated, recog- nized her mother, and rushed into her arms. Certainly this was a case where music acted upon an enfeebled memory as a successful stimulant, when speech had entirely failed to elicit any response.” 134 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. A very direct employment of music in a serious illness, is thus described by Dr. Cutter : — “Mr. Thompson, of S. Maw, Son & Thompson, London, tells a story of his son Willie, aged six years, moribund with typhoid, quite insensible, abdomen tympanitic, pulse failing, and said by his physicians ‘ not to last the night out.’ Car- bohc acid was given with some good effect, while the doctor staid up all night at the bedside ; but the coma continued. Finally the father, knowing that the boy was intensely fond of music, procured a nice large music box. He asked his son if he would like to hear it play. Xo response and no sign of recognition. The music box was set agoing. It was not long before his countenance changed and his body became uneasy. After awhile he turned over on to his side. The box was put behind his back. After another tune he turned over to it, and became conscious so as to respond to ques- tions. ‘ Now see here,’ said Mr. Thompson, ‘ this is for your own use, and shall be called Willie’s music box.’ The boy showed signs of pleasure and wished it kept playing. The result was continued reaction ; he responded to treatment and recovered.” In the writer’s own experience in the course of music teaching, he has found singing a partial cure in a severe case of St. Yitus’ dance, a complete cure in a case of chronic ulceration of the tonsils, an entire cure in a case of consumption in the early stages, and a palliative for stammering. ROYAL MIJSICIANS. Although there is no royal road to music, yet royalty has frequently trod the path of musical study. Almost all potentates have felt it incuml)ent upon them to foster music as one of the line arts ; but the number of those who practically studied the art is not so large. We shall not amplify upon the subject of King David. He has always been regarded as the representative of royal musicians. He probably did for the ancient Egy})tian music what saints Ambrose and Gregory did for the Greek : that is, he system- atized and sim[)litied it. But King David is by no means the only ruler who has used music for re- ligious or patriotic purposes. Solon aroused the Athenians to reconquer Salamis, by singing a song descriptive of the humiliation of its people, and even some of the Egyptian kings are seen in the sculptures and paintings of ancient tombs, leading in songs of thanksgiving. In the Middle Ages, the monarchs of Europe esteemed it no degradation to become trou- badours, trouveres, or minnesingers, and few of the ( 135 ) 136 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. song-composers of that time but were of noble birth. It seems strange, we may add en passant., that royalty always seems to have cared more for the vocal side of music than for any other. Alfonso X of Castile, William lY (Count of Poitiers), and Richard I, (of England) were among the song musicians of these remote times. Even before this time England had possessed a musical king in Canute, whose greatest song was inspired by hearing the monks of Ely sing their vesper song, as he was rowing on the river at sunset. One can im- agine the poetic influence of the scene, and the deli- cious effect of the music of the hymn stealing over the waters in the haziness of a tranquil twilight. The music which they sang was probably in unison, since the barbaric successions of fourths and fifths, which were the rude beginnings of harmony, had not yet been invented. The melody of the song has been lost to us ; and, of the verses, but one remains. In the old Anglo-Saxon , it runs : — “ Mnrie snngen tlie muneches Mnnen Ely Tha Cnute Ching reif ther by, Rowe, cnihtes, naew the land. And here we thes mnneches sseng.” In modern English, it would be as follows : — “ Merry sang the monks at Ely As King Canute rowed there by. B 0 YA L M U SIC I A NS. 137 Row, men, near the land. And hear we these monks sing.” This song soon s])read among the peasantry, and even l)ecanie })opular among the higher orders. That this was not due to the fact of the composer being king of England is evidenced by the fact tliat it re- mained the most po])ular song of that country for some three hundred years. Charlemagne has never had the credit he has de- served, not as an executive musician, but as a sound musical critic. He always adopted King David as his model, and it was therefore very natural that he should give much attention to music. lie had singing very fre- quently at his court, and often took the j)ost of direc- tor himself. On such occasions, it was dangerous for any to shirk their part : whether they had “ a voice ” or not, it was necessary for them to join in the chor- uses to some extent. lie preserved many of the an- cient and legendary songs of France by causing them to be copied and studied at his court. lie was a passion- ate admirer of the Gregorian style of ecclesiastical mu- sic, and caused it to be generally introduced in France, besides importing excellent singers of that method from Rome. In short, France owes much to his zeal for music, although of his own attainments in the art but little is known. But France has possessed more 138 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. than one musical monarch. Almost all her queens were more or less musical, and studied the art. All her monarchs in the latter part of the royal line took active part in music by becoming supporters of dif- ferent schools and modes of composition. But the musical king of France, jpar excellence^ was Louis XIII, who was remarkably fond of the art, and divided his attention between music, hunting and chess, in somewhat equal portions. At concerts, which were frequently given at his court, very few persons were admitted, and none who did not under- stand music. He would have no ladies present at his concerts. “They cannot keep quiet,” said he. At these little chamber-concerts, the king was con- ductor, and usually closed the programme by having several of his own songs produced. If these were applauded, and they were always sure to be, he would cause them to be repeated three or four times, a bit of vanity which may be excused in a royal mu- sician. One of his works, and a charming one, has come down to our days, in Amaryllis which, though performed by many as an instrumental selec- tion, was originally a love-song of the quaint, semi- pastoral style of that epoch.* * The instramental Gavotte, known as “ Amaryllis ” (arranged by Ghys) is wrongly ascribed to Louis XIII. Its true name is “ Le Clochette,” and it was composed by Baltazarini before Louis XIII was born. IlOYAL MUSICIANS. 139 He also composed considerable church-music, on one occasion writing an entire vesper service for the army besieging La Kochelle. During his last illness, he composed much sacred music, which was sung around his death-bed by his courtiers, he himself joining in occasionally ; and some of his own music was sung as his requiem. Among the English kings after the conquest, we find a few music-lovers, but only one real musician. The dreadful Bluebeard of English history, the man who seems to have been coarse by nature and lacking in all the finer attributes, seems yet to have been a musician and composer of considerable ability. Henry VHI could sing at sight, and could play organ, harp- sichord and lute, and could extemporize songs, both words and music, in a very artistic manner. Queen Elizabeth (his daughter) seems to have in- herited part of his talent ; for the pieces in her “ vir- ginal-book”* are of considerable difficulty, and show that her music lessons were pursued with much vigor. She seems to have been quite vain of her abilities in virginal playing (the only piano-playing of that time) , and was delighted when a courtier told ♦Although it is probable that this book as we possess it at present, was copied out after the queen’s death, there is little doubt that Elizabeth played most of the pieces contained in its pages, and some were arranged expressly for his royal pupil, by Dr. Byrd. 140 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Her that she played better than the Queen of Scots, of whom she was always more or less jealous. Yet she would brook contradiction from her superiors in the art, for on one occasion, after hearing Dr. Chris- topher Tye perform on the organ in her chapel , she sent word to him that he played out of tune (f. e., falsely) , whereupon that irascible musician sent back word that Her Majesty’s ears were out of tune ; and he does not seem to have been punished for the retort. But such bold answers have almost always char- acterized the relations between musicians and royalty. Cherubini was equally bold to Napoleon, Mozart to the Austrian Emperor, and Liszt to the Princess Met- ternich. Mary, Queen of Scots, is said to have been a very fine musician ; and there is scarcely a doubt that her poetical nature would make her the supe- rior of the more practical Queen Elizabeth in this art. We have said that royalty generally occupied itself with vocal music. There is one very impor tant exception to this rule, — Frederic the Great — who was a most assiduous flute-player. He learned this accomplishment under the most trying difficul- ties. His father, Frederic I, was one of the fierc- est and vulgarest of characters, and despised the fine arts most cordially, holding, as Macaulay says, that BOYAL MUSICIANS. 141 the “ whole business of life was to drill and be drilled.” To give any time to the study of music was little short of insanity, in the eyes of this do- mestic despot, and more than once was the instru- ment broken over the head of the unfortunate boy. Many anecdotes are related of the manner in which Frederic was obliged to deceive his father. Ilis chief teacher was the great flautist, J. J. Quantz, who almost risked his life by giving him lessons ; for, when the father’s step was heard, the flutes and music were hurriedly thrown into a closet, while the teacher was once olfliged to save himself by crawling up a chimney. Quantz was, however, richly com- pensated for his risks when Frederic came to the throne. He received a salary of two thousand thalers as chamber musician and court composer, and an ad- ditional payment for each composition. He spent most of his time in composing flute solos and duets for his royal pupil. As regards the king’s own performances, they seem to have been quite good, but marred a little by nervousness. He was very conscientious in studying any new work, and felt much ashamed if he slipped in any passage, or gave a false note. He possessed a very large number of flutes, — so many, in fact, that it was the entire duty of a servant to take care of them. 142 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. It was, however, dangerous to play better than His Majesty in any flute duet, as he had all the van- ity and jealousy of Nero. ^ Frederic the Great was not bounded in his musi- cal tastes wholly by flute-playing or by the works of Quantz. On the contrary, he patronized with in- tense ardor the works of Graun, which at times moved him even to tears. The great Kirnberger could not make any progress at the Prussian court for a long time, because the king w^ould sufier no rivals to his favorite composer. He allowed Graun more liberty than was usual with court musicians. Once he com- manded the composer to alter several pages of an opera which he had just written. The composer de- clined to do so, and on the king’s furiously demand- ing a reason for such bold mutiny, replied, holding the score in his hand, “ Ov6r this work I am king”, and the claim was acknowledged as just. Frederic’s sister, the Princess Amalia, was also an educated musician, but a very tart and unjust critic, condemning Gluck, Schultz, and other able musicians, with ruthless censure. But the list of royal musicians has swollen to so long an article that we may not dwell upon the nu- merous musical princes, dukes, and lesser rulers. We may not even detail the overweening musical conceit of the Koman Emperors Caligula and Nero, these n 0 YA L M U SIC IANS. 143 alone being sufficient to make an amusing but lengthy article ; we cannot detail the musical studies of Titus, nor the useful songs composed by Chinese emperors ; we cannot dwell upon the musical attain- ments of the emperors of Japan; still we hope to have made it apparent that music, the consoler of grief, the friend of the unfortunate, is also a neces- sity to the rich and powerful of the earth. MUSICIANS’ FORTUNES AND GENEROSITIES. In some of the essays oi this volume we have spoken of the jealousies and rivalries among mu- sicians. The subject is, unfortunately, a very large one, and one that is familiar to all who have in any degree become acquainted with the devotees of mu- sic. A two-fold jealousy exists, springing on the one hand from artistic grounds, and on the other from what the Germans graphically call Brodneid — the “bread-earning” envy. Having, however, sketched this ever-present flaw of the musical character, it would be an injustice not to review the other side of the picture, — the generosities of artistic natures, and there have been as conspicu- ous displays of nobility of character among composers as of the narrowness and envy which are so often held up as a reproach to our art. That this is recognized by solicitors of charity is proved by the constant solicitations given to artists to play for churches, asylums, hospitals, etc., gratis. ( 144 ) MUSICIANS' FOllTUNESAND GENEUOSITIES. 145 ILindcl’s music (the Messiah especially) has founded greater charities than any ordinary State treas- ury, and it is pleasant to know that, besides being great gifts to art, his works became very practical and substantial gifts to the poor of England. But it is impossible to chronicle the various occasions when musicians have lent their talents to obtaining alms for others in this manner. Judged in this light, the musician may be called the most charitable of all artists. There are also enough instances on record of com- posers and great musicians being generous to their rivals, and this in a much larger degree than is com- mon among physicians, painters, or litterateurs. In the last century, it was not an easy task for a young genius to receive proper education, unless pat- ronized by some nol)leman who was willing to bear the attendant expense. Yet Porpora helped his hum- ble bootblack Ilaydn, to a good musical education ; and Salieri assisted the shock-headed peasant-boy, Schubert in some degree. The last-named composer, was himself the embodiment of generosity. Disap- pointed all through his life in his attempts to obtain a court appointment which should lift him from his bit- ter poverty, he never felt rancor toward his successful rivals. Near the close of his career, when he made his last strong effort to become vice-capellmeister to the f 146 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Austrian court, and the emperor chose the composer Weigl instead, Schubert said to his friend Spaun, “ I should have liked the post, and I needed it ; but since so able a man as Weigl has been chosen, I sup- pose I ought to be content.” Beethoven’s warm heart and generous nature found its chief outlet toward his unworthy nephew, yet he was far above the atmosphere of jealousy. His re- mark as he lay upon his death-bed, examining the works of Handel, — “This is the true music,” — proves this. His acceptance of Kies as a pupil (al- though he detested teaching) as a return for a kind- ness done to his mother years before, shows that he had a grateful nature . Mozart’s remark to a carping Viennese critic, — “ Sir, you and I melted down to- gether would not make one Haydn,” — is but a reflex of a master’s generous spirit. ' Meyerbeer’s admiration for Mozart’s music was equally well marked; although, of course, here the element of equality disappears. We do not find quite so much generosity among singers as among composers. Possibly the cause of this is that these artists are brought into more direct competition with each other, and the success of one partially implies the failure of the other. Yet where this element of public rivalry is not present, we find that the opera singers have often been the most gen- erous and charitable of all artists. MUSICIANS' FOBTUNES AND GENEBOSITIES. 147 Lablache was always ready with purse and voice to assist his poorer fellow-artists. One day, a poor Italian came to him with a pitiful tale, and l)egged to he sent hack to Italy. The next day at rehearsal, Lahlache told the case to his fellow-singers, and pro- posed that each give fifty francs, which was instantly done, Malll)ran contrihuting with the rest. The next day, however, the prinia donna came to Lahlache with two hundred and fifty francs more, saying that she did not wish to seem ostentatious at the rehearsal, hut hegged that Lahlache would add the money to the fund. Lahlache hastened to the lodgings of his fellow-countryman only to find that he had started, full of jo}^, for the steamer. Kacing after him to the Thames, Lahlache caught the steamer just as it was leaving the wharf, and startled him with the addi- tional gift. Malihran was especially noted for her constant almsgiving, although she detested publicity in the matter. Catalani was generous in a high degree. She never would sing gratis for any charity, hut in such cases always made it a point to subscribe a sum to the en- terprise, which often equalled or exceeded her own terms. In 1821, she declined singing for the bene- fit of the Westminster Hospital, as she did not wish to interfere with the success of her own concerts 148 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. (which were to occur shortly after) by appearing pre- vious to them. But, after the first of her own series had taken place, she sent the managers nearly three hundred pounds, the result of her concert. Pasta was not so lavish, yet was generous to the poor. But all these good deeds pale before the generosi- ties of the most modern musicians and composers. In our times (and in the preceding generation) there have been great musicians who seemed to make it their duty not only to foster art by their own works, but to uphold it by pen, influence and purse. These great ones have taken a broader view of music than any of their predecessors : they bring to art, at times, the highest possible sacrifice, — self-abnegation. Highest in the scroll of those who work for art with pure devotion must be written the name of that celebrated composer, critic, and virtuoso, who stood (as Cherubini did) a connecting link between the past and the present, — Franz Liszt. His musical sympathies, as every one knows, were with the present, or rather with “the future;” yet every struggling artist and rising composer found a willing assistant in Liszt. His position in the music of today will undoubtedly be disputed by many. The conservative influence of the Gewandhaus Concerts has always been opposed to him ; the worth of his MUSICIANS^ FORTUNES AND GENEROSITIES. U9 orchestral works is a moot point with many ; yet none dare deny the rank of this Mecicnas in his devo- tion to music in its broadest sense. To give a list of the generous deeds of the master would fill a very long article. Ilis whole life was devoted to fostering his less fortunate brother artists. The succoring of Pesth, after its inundation in 1837 ; the completion of the Beethoven monument ; the recognition of the merits of Schubert, by articles and piano transcriptions; the aiding of Robert Franz, first to obtain recognition as a composer, and subse- quently to a comfortal)le income in his old age ; the placing of Wagner on a pedestal as the leader of the new school ; the personal advancement of dozens of great artists whom he received at his former home in Weimar, and advised and encouraged in their musical career, — these are but a few of the great deeds of a man who rather resembled a prophet among his disciples than a composer and teacher of modern music. Only second to the name of Liszt in generous deeds for art is that of Schumann, who was actuated by the same high principle, but had not the ear of princes and kings, as did Liszt. Schumann's entire literary and critical career was devoted to the best in- terests of art and the aid of undiscovered genius. Brahms found in him a friend, without whom he might 150 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. ' { true and earnest adherent, real recognition in Schumann. To Franz, he was a Berlioz found his first Artists are proverbially impecunious and spend- thrifty, yet there have been exceptions which stand out in glaring contrast to the extravagant lavishness which is characteristic of almost all of the tribe. Naturally in the older days, when the position of the musician was a very humble one, thrift was forced upon him in a manner that admitted of no evasion. Tempora mutantur! How old Bach would have stared to have seen a musician as well ofi* as Wagner was ! Bach lived in the most modest circumstances, in Leipsic, with a family of a score of children, and a most faithful and amiable wife. When he died, the utmost economy could not keep the widow out of the poorhouse, where she died. Of his sons, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach was a spendthrift, and most dissi- pated to boot. He died in the gutter, in disrepu- table old age. Philip Emanuel Bach was careful and prudent, and although not rich, died in very com- fortable circumstances. Burney speaks of a visit to him in the last century : — “ When I went to his house I found with him three or four rational and well-bred persons, his friends, besides his own family, consisting of Mrs. Bach, his eldest son, who practices the law, and his daughter (the youngest son studies painting 3IUSICIANS^ FORTUNES AND GENEROSITIES. 151 at the Academies of Leipsic and Dresden) ; the instant I entered he conducted me up stairs into a large and elegant music room, furnished with pictures, drawings and prints of more than a hundred and fifty eminent musicians ; among whom are many Englishmen, and original portraits in oil of his father and grandfather. After I had looked at these M. Bach was so obliging as to sit down at his Silbermann Clavi- chord. * * * After dinner, which was elegantly served and cheerfully eaten, I prevailed on him to sit again to a clavi- chord.” The above is certainly a good picture of a well-to- do musician’s home surroundings, but the quaintest statement of all is made by Burney (although it is not relative to our sulqect) in the following lines : “He is learned, I think, even beyond his father^ whenever he pleases, and is far beyond him in va- riety of modidationr Certainly this puts poor John Sebastian well into the background. John Christian Bach was a terrific spendthrift, but a very lucky one. He spent a fortune in London, then became music teacher to the queen, spent another, then died, and his wife received a pension from the royal family which kept her from want. ]Mozart was not often spendthrifty, but that was chiefly because he had no money. When he received any it flew quickly enough, for he was not only gen- erous but he was fond of society, and delighted in 152 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. festive gatherings. Schubert was the most shiftless of all. When he had money he lived (alas, for the briefest of periods) like a prince, and when it was gone, he existed like a pauper, only to repeat the first experience when cash came back again. Once after a period of rather protracted famine, he sold several songs and at once spent the money on tickets for Paganini’s concert for himself and friends, at a fabulous price. Speaking of Paganini leads one at once to the re- verse of the picture. Paganini was a veritable miser. The grasping managers for once met their match in him, for he would squeeze them like a sponge. Yet this grasping miser once, at least, gave way to unbounded generosity. It was after he had heard the first performance of the Sinfonie Fantastique ; not only did he kneel before Berlioz and kiss his hand, but the next day he sent him a check for 25,000 francs ! This was so totally different from Paganini’s usual actions that many who knew him refused to believe it, and even now some histories maintain that he was only a secret agent in the mat- ter, and that the real donor was a prominent Parisian publisher who desired to preserve his incognito. Wagner, among modern musicians, was by turns niggardly and princely. At times he demanded the fulfilling of rigorous contracts even where it brought MUSICIANS^ FOB TUNES AND GENEBOSITIES. 15 ;^ ruin to innocent and too generous men ; at other times he would devote large sums and herculean labors to the advancement of art. Ihit he was generally selfish in his most lavish expenditures. Liszt was the true })rince in money matters. He received lavish sums, and he spent them lavishly but never foolishly. His hand was ever in his purse to help some brother artist. Wagner received benefits both from his purse and pen, afterwards gladly repaid. With one amusing anecdote of closeness and its revenge we may dismiss this l)ranch of our sul)ject. It concerns a much humbler member of the profes- sion than those we have named above. Pfund the kettle-drummer (and Pfund, which is German for “ Pound,” seems a very good name for a drummer), was rather more than a trifle “ near,” yet once iii a fit of generosity he had lent a brother musician a dollar. Immediately that this rashly generous act had been eonsummated he repented deeply of his folly. Constantly he urged the recalcitrant debtor to repay. Finally the ingenious l)orrower determined to pay his debt in a memora])le manner. They were both members of the Gewandhaus Orchestra. The debtor obtained a dollar’s worth j)fen nig e (n pfen- nig is a quarter of a cent) and going upon the eoncert platform just before the beginning of the per- formance, he arranged the little coins upon the kettle- 154 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. drum head. Pfund, near-sighted and somewhat in a hurry, came to his instrument ; the performance be- gan, a single drum stroke and — crash! — the dollar was scattered all over the platform. Poor Pfund demanded repayment in vain, the exdebtor justly saying that he had placed the money where he knew his creditor would he sure to find it. Few musicians have ever attained great wealth. Probably Nero the emperor of Pome, was the richest musician that ever lived, but it may be con- tended that he did not make his wealth in the musical profession. Yet this is only partially true, for many of his courtiers were glad to curry favor with him by flattering his musical vanity, paying him enormous sums for his professional services, and he is said once to have received a sum equivalent to $30,000 for one night’s musical services, which puts the prices paid to a Patti to the blush. Among the great composers of the old school we seek in vain for a wealthy man. Palestrina lived and died poor although not in extreme poverty. Di Lasso came the nearest to being a rich man, because of the constant friendship of the Duke of Bavaria. Handel lost a fortune in trying to establish Italian opera in London, but subsequently regained more than this amount b}^ the great success of his oratorios. His friend Mattheson was wealthy, but made his fortune MUSICIANS' FOliTUNES AND GENEj^oSITIES. 155 rather in diplomatic service than in music. Bee- thoven died at least out of the reach of poverty, spite of the fact that he represented himself as very poor to those who came to him in his last illness. After his death there were several bank certificates and bonds found hidden away in odd corners of his cham- ber. Mozart died so poor that he was buried in the common grave in the Vienna cemetery and all trace of his body has been lost, although there is a certain doctor in Germany who claims to possess his skull. Wagner was a representative of the two extremes, wealth and poverty. In Paris at one time he felt the direct pinch of want, and no musical work was too humble for him to try. He arranged cornet solos, four-hand adaptations of operas, and even tried to get an engagement as a chorus singer in one of the cheap Boulevard theatres. When, years afterwards, he became the intimate friend of King Louis of Bavaria (it may be remembered that it was at this court, centuries before, Orlando di Lasso won wealth and renown) Wagner lived as a prince. In Venice where he spent the vacation that terminated in his death, he had a retinue of servants and attendants, a family tutor, etc., and he lived in a palace fit for a king ; when he composed his study was decorated to correspond with the subject on which he was at work, and laces, fine velvets, flowers and perfumes lent their 156 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. aid in stimulating the inspiration of the great com- poser of music drama. The picture is in vivid con- trast to poor Schubert dying almost alone, and to Mozart buried like a pauper, but Wagner was the modern exception, and there are today more poor and struggling musical talents and perhaps geniuses than there ever have been wealthy musicians. What with the frequent interchange of artists and conductors between America and Europe it becomes an interesting subject to study how compensation and work compare among the musical profession on the two sides of the Atlantic. Salaries are undoubtedly higher in America than in Germany, but by no means in so great a degree as is thought. The leaders in music abroad receive perhaps thirty or forty per cent, less than they could earn here, but two facts must be set against this ; firstly, the purchasing power of money is much greater in Europe than it is with us, and, secondly the position of a great musician is more agreeable, more universally respected and ad- mired, in Germany or France than in America. Thus Kapellmeister Keinecke , living in his flat in the third story of a house in the Quer-Strasse in Leipsic, is sought out by the aristocracy, is prized and respected beyond the plutocrats who live in whole palaces. Besides our country is rather young yet in music and painting, and one does not find as much communion MUSICIANS^ FORTUNES AND GENEROSITIES. 157 among kindred spirits and co-workers in America as abroad. When one sees Reinecke in Leipsic, Rhein- berger in Munich, or Svendsen in Copenhagen, sur- rounded by a coterie of fellow laborers in music, when jest, and earnest comparison and comment pass about the board, while geniality and calm content- ment hover over them all, the question as to why more of the great foreign musicians do not come to America is answered ; but whichever side of the At- lantic is searched, there is more chance of finding a pterodactyl or a plesiosaurus than a rich musician. A STRANGE SINGING TEACHER. At last, the student had reached his ambition. He had studied various methods of voice culture and vocal technique in his native land, and had how come abroad to have the finishing touches given to his organ. The road to Naples was rough and dusty, and it is not surprising that the young singer fell asleep be- fore he entered the city. Once within its precincts, he immediately set about finding the leading conserv- atory, where he hoped that his earnestness and zeal would make him heartily welcomed. He was as- tonished to find the building a prison-like, monastic edifice, but, nothing daunted, knocked at the gate. The attendant who opened it stared with curiosity at the garb of the young man, and was amazed at his desire to see the voice-builder of the establishment. ‘ ‘ You mean our maestro di canto ^ our singing master,” said he : “ follow me, then.'’ In a moment, the singer found himself before a ( 158 ) A .SfTIiAN'aE SINGING TEACHER. 151 ) rather sour-looking old man, in periwig and knee- breeches, who received him in anything but a gra- cious manner. “What have you learned already?” asked the master. “ I have studied various methods,” responded the student. “ What manner of breathing do you pre- fer that I should use, — the abdomino-costal, the pure abdominal, or the clavicular?” The singing-master turned pale, and made an in- voluntary movement toward the door, but finally recovered himself sufficiently to say, “ If you have made any improvements in the manner of breathing I shall he glad to listen to all of them ; but I wished to know what you have attained in solfeggio.” “ Oh, for the matter of that,” replied the appli- cant, “ I have scarcely thought much about solfeggi. I have given great attention to the production of tone as a science.” “ Methinks there is much ‘ method ’ in this mad- ness,” muttered the singing-master. “ I have studied all the philosophy of vocal phona- tion,” continued the other; “ and, in the physiology of the voice, I am about perfect. But perhaps you would like to examine my throat first with a laryngo- scope.” “I have never seen one,” sighed the teacher; you speak altogether in riddles.” 160 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. “What,” exclaimed the now thoroughly aroused student, “ you have never seen the interior of a liv- ing throat! Well, at least, you have examined plenty of dead ones, I suppose.” “ God forbid ! ” said the master, with a shudder. ‘ ‘ Have Amu received your vocal education in a hospi- tal?” “ I am proud to say that half my time has been spent in the dissecting room.” “Have you advanced your execution or attained brilliant Jioriture there ? ” “ No; but I have gained a knowledge of all the small muscles of the throat, and have memorized all their names.” “ Can you use them artistically, because you have catalogued them ? ” inquired the teacher. “ No, but I can attain much more eminence in my profession as a teacher, and I shall be able to oper- ate on the throats of my pupils with more facility. I have already cut off six or seven tonsils.” “What,” shrieked the teacher, “you improve a throat by mutilation ! I suppose you would also cure a headache by cutting off a man’s head.” ‘ ‘ What method then do you use in singing ? ” in- quired the pupil. “Work! The way to learn singing is to sing. Gradual, very gradual, exercise strengthens the ci STUAXGE SINGING TEACHER. 161 lungs and eveiy throat inusclo, as gradual exercise makes the dexterity of the fencer or the power of the athlete. A pure, natural tone will grow in strength by continued use : an artificial one will not. Power and endurance come by carefully graded work. Flex- ibility by unremitting perseverance in solfeggio stud- ies, which must be adapted to the style and ability of each individual voice. I go as near to nature as I can : you try to nbolish it altogether. I keep the voice in easy compass, in its most natural notes, until, by the constant practice of these, growth fol- lows of itself, and I am able to extend the exercises. I never make more demands upon the voice than it can easily fulfil ; and, as it grows, I increase my demands. I do not distract the attention of any student, even by the statement of a fact, if that fact is likely to draw his thought away from the plain road of natural study, in good, healthy tones. If he produces such tones, I do not give him a six hours’ oration as to hoiu he produces them. In fact I am afraid I do. not know that myself. There is possibly much that is good in your style of study ; but you have pushed the analytical process too far, — you suffer from too much method. Your too strict at- tention to physiology and anatomy, and too lax at- tention to music is apt to make vocal surgeons rather than artistic singers ; and I, who am, after all, only 162 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. a musician, have greater and better pupils than all your sanguinary theoretical teachers put together.” “Who are you, then ?” cried the now somewhat frightened student, as the old teacher began slowly to grow hazy around the edges, and to dissolve into thin air. “ I am the ghost of Porpora,” whispered the now half-invisible spectre. The student gave a shriek in the highest register, and so far forgot himself as not to think of the style of breathing by which he produced it, and then — awoke. He was not in Naples ; he had not yet achieved a great American reputation : he was sitting in a dazed condition in the church choir ; he had fallen asleep after having sung the second hymn, and the minister had only got along in his sermon as far as “ sixthly.” MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS AND THEIR EPOCHS. It is an interesting study to the musical historian to watch the rise and fall of certain instruments in different epochs. The trumpet for example from mediaeval times until the middle of the last century, was the favorite instrument of gentlemen. This probably arose from the fact that the heralds, who were body servants of kings and princes, played this instrument ; guilds of trumpeters were established in which many of the nobility were enrolled, and these guilds existed even in the last century. This state of affairs led to such perfection of trumpet- playing that the artists of Handel’s time could play passages on the natural trumpet which were al- most impossible fifty years later ; in fact, Mozart was obliged to simplify the trumpet obligato in “The trumpet shall sound” in the “Messiah,” in order that it might be played by the musicians of his. day. In all the works of Beethoven, Mozart and Weber, there is not a single difficult trumpet passage. (1633 164 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. But Wagner and Berlioz by their pompous works led to a renascence of trumpet-playing, and today al- though the natural trumpet is passing away, the keyed trumpet, at least in Europe, finds many per- formers of much excellence. The oboe had its period of extreme prominence during the last century. One can scarcely exagger- ate the liking for this instrument among our fore- fathers. Handel wrote six concertos for it, and gave it prominence in almost all his instrumentation. Bach used it almost as freely. Besides the modern oboe there were other oboes which have become ob- solete ; the oboe d'amore for example, which was by no means a very “ lovely oboe,” for it screamed like a veritable bag-pipe, and the oboe di caccia which had a tone not unlike an English horn. The English horn itself seems to have had its ups and downs for it dropped out of use during the classical epoch. Gluck, to be sure, employed it, but was not able to get any especial efiect from its use, while Mozart and Weber never admitted it to their scores, and Beethoven only used it once (and even here it is doubtful if he meant the real Corno Inglese) In his trio. Op. 87, with two oboes, a strange combination, and on the whole rather a prolix and uninspiring work. It was Berlioz, Schumann, Rossini and Wagner who really brought in the English horn with due knowledge of 3IUSIGAL INSTRU3IENTS AND TIIEIll EPOCHS. ] 05 its tone color, and in many of their works one finds this large-sized ol)oe [)laying the part of Al[)inc horn or Shepherd’s pipe. Meanwhile, in the last century the clarinet was knocking at the door of the orches- tra in vain, until Mozart opened the gate for it in his E-flat symphony and his clarinette quintette. Many of the humbler instruments lay quiescent until Beethoven discovered their possil)ilities. It was Beethoven who elevated the kettle-drums, and the contra-bass from comparative obscurity, and he also gave to the horn a new significance. The harp was naturally not employed by the old composers much, for it was a semi-diatonic instrument. It was only in 1810 that Erard made of it a truly orchestral instrument capable of modulation, but it is a popu- lar error to suppose that it could not modulate at all before this for Mozart wrote a concerto for harp and flute, and Gluck was obliged to use it in his great opera of Orpheus. Burney in his interesting book of musical travels (1772) says : “ At Brussels I heard a young lady play extremely well on the harp with pedals. * * ^ * The harp is very much played on by the ladies here and at Paris. It is a sweet and becoming instrument, and, by means of pedals for the half notes, is less cumbrous and unwieldy than our double Welsh harp. ^ ^ * There are but thirty-three strings on it, which, except 166 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. the last, are mere natural notes of the diatonic scale ; the rest are made by the feet. This method of producing the half-tones on the harp by means of pedals was invented at Brussels about fifteen years ago, (circa 1756) by M. Simon who still resides in that city ; it is an ingenious and useful contrivance in more respects than one, for, by reducing the num- ber of strings the tone of those that remain is im- proved.” The invention seems to have travelled slowly, for at Vienna, the traveller heard another kind of harp performance, of which he says : — “ M. Mut, a good performer, played a piece upon the single harp without pedals, which makes it a very difficult instrument, as the performer is obliged to make the semitones by brass rings with the left hand which being placed at the top of the harp, are not only hard to get at, but disagreeable to hear, from the noise, which, by a sudden motion of the hand they occasion. The secret of producing the semitones by pedals is not yet arrived in Vienna.” In this interesting work we can also find some de- tails about the earliest use of cymbals. They had evidently but recently come into European music from the East, for the writer deemed it necessary to give a full description of a pair he heard in France. He calls them “ Crotolo,’’^ and says that the ancients MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS AND THEIR EPOCHS. 1G7 called the same instrument ‘ ‘ Cymbalum The Turks were the first among the moderns who used it in their military bands. The above instruments are by no means the only ones which have had their period of rise and fall, but sufficient has been said to show that as the very structure of music changes from age to age, so the instruments themselves are changing and are under- going their periods of popularity and decadence. There is more of true art in the manufacture of a fine musical instrument than is generally recognized by the public at large. When a man designs a beau- tiful edifice, his public worth is at once acknowledged, but the building of a perfect violin or a rich-toned piano is scarcely less valuable to the world, and the designer and maker of such a thing is as fully entitled to enter the ranks of those priests of the beautiful, called artists, as if he had planned a temple or cre- ated a poem. When in the seventeenth and eight- eenth centuries a set of men, thoroughly in love with their work, brought the violin to a standard far above the crude instrument of preceding ages, they did as much toward the advancement of one branch of music, as if they had been Paganinis or Joachims ; for, given the ideal instrument, the great performers upon it were sure to follow. The old spinets, or virginals, or harpsichords, 168 THE REALM OF MUSIC. brought forth a school of composers, and the quaint and pretty, demi-staccato vein of a Scarlatti or a Couperin, must also be derived in some degree from the inventions of a liuckers. In like manner, the creation of the grand piano brought in its train no less a work than the greatest sonata ever composed — Beethoven’s vast ‘ ‘ Senate fiir Hammerclavier ” in B flat. Op. 106. Of course it took a great master to produce such a work, but it required a coadjutor in the shape of an intelligent inventor and manufacturer to make it at all possible, and this humbler collaborator is too often relegated to the commercial field altogether, and denied ad- mittance into the domain of art. If one speaks of harp-music to the musician he at once thinks of the effects brought forth by Gluck, Mozart, Spohr, Berlioz and Wagner, but of the name of Simon he knows nothing ; yet Simon (as we have seen) first lifted the harp from the diatonic character which it had possessed since ancient Egyp- tian days, and which made it useless to the modern composer. In the same manner Boehm has done as much for the flute as Kuhlau or any of the flute composers, for he has given entrance to all keys, and has practi- cally added a new tone color to the instrument by the rapidity and brightness consequent upon his sys- tem of keying. MUSICAL IXSTBUMENTS AND THE Hi EPOCHS. K;<) Adolph Sax has done the same great service in the keying of l)iass instruments and Adeprecht has helped the brass wind to a better standing by bring- ing forward the Bass Tuba to take the j)lace of the hideous, wooden serpent, or the rasping ophicleide, which were the bass instruments of this department, in the beginning of the century. If we, in America, have not yet added any names to the list of the world’s great masters in composi- tion, we have at least done very much to advance music by the improvement of musical instruments. The iron bed-plate, and the sostenuto pedal, of the piano, have been given to the world from this side of the Atlantic ; and in the careful building of the grand piano there are today some American firms who have taught the European manufacturers a lesson. In violins too we possess at least one manufac- turer who can claim the title of artist, and whose in struments may some day rank with even the Cremona violins. But the intent of this article is not the glorifi- cation of America in musical manufactures, but rather the insistance upon the idea that the careful manu- facturer, and the enthusiastic inventor, in the instru- mental field, should be remembered almost as great artists and composers are. When one speaks of Bach, Beethoven, Wagner, or 170 the bealm of music. Mozart, let not Stradivarius, Erard, Boehm, or Sax, be forgotten. THE WIVES OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS. In the history of music there has been one branch that has been singularly neglected ; it is the influence that has been exerted upon the great composers by their wives. Some of the tone masters have been singularly happy in their domestic relations, and some, unfortunately, have been quite the reverse; some of them have never entered the bonds of wed- lock, and others have essayed them more than once, while others again have regretted that they ever entered them at all. None the less the happiness or unhappiness of the family relation has undoubtedly had a direct influence upon the creations which have emanated from the masters, and a history of the wives of the composers would be of interest to many who desire to gauge the influence of women in music with some degree of accuracy. The history of women as composers would be a remarkably short one, for among the millions who have studied, not a half- dozen have made an impression upon the art from its ( 171 ) 172 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. creative side. The wife of Robert Franz (Hinrichs was her maiden name) was a composer of excellent lieder, yet the songs she produced are scarcely known to the present generation. In England, Agnes Zim- mermann has given forth some creditable part music ; Mme. Helen Hopekirk may be counted in the ranks of the producers of the smaller forms ; Mrs. Beach has accomplished good work in America ; but in France for the first time, a woman has made a sensation in the large forms by producing a great “ Ode to Lib- erty ! ” in full cantata form. Whether the great work of Augusta Holmes will take permanent rank among cantatas remains to be seen, but at least the attempt should interest all who have watched the musical progress of women. Meanwhile Clara Schu- mann is at the head of a small band of female com- posers, and even with her the success is no^ a remarkable one, for when, some years ago, a concert composed entirely of her works was given, the result was in some degree soporific. Clara Schumann, if not taking highest rank as a composer, deserves the highest place as a composer’s wife, for she devoted her existence to making her husband’s works known while he was alive, and to building up his fame when he was dead. The passion which Schumann conceived for Clara Wieck led to the composition of some of his finest piano works, and the happy end of THE WIVES OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS. 173 his great trials, by marriage, l)rought forth the two finest cycles of songs ever composed — the “ Wom- an’s Life and Love ” and “ Poet’s Love,” — in Avhich he endeavored to portray the great affection which had moved them, both from the male and female point of view. To his happy marriage, also, can be traced the production of his finest symphony — that in B- fiat — and therefore to Clara Schumann, the world indirectly owes some of the masterpieces of our art. The story of their affection is as interesting and pathetic as that of the loves and lives of Heloise and Abelard, or of Petrarch and his Laura, and is a far loftier theme than the absurd sentimentalities about the “Moonlight sonata,” the “Adieu,” and other episodes in the lives of composers, which have crept into history, and which, moreover, had their origin onlv in the minds of imaginative biographers. That Schumann’s insanity had its origin in the mental dis- tress he went through in winning his Avife, is by no means established, for melancholia Avas hereditary in his family and even before this episode had begun, the seeds of mental alienation had taken root. That they germinated so late, is probably due to the happy life Avhich he led Avith his noble Avife. In one respect Cosima Wagner resembles Clara Schumann ; she is devoting her Avhole life of AvidoAV- hood to the extension of the theories of her late hus- 174 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. band. But there the resemblance ends. Wagner was not a nature to be influenced in his composition'* even by those whom he held dearest, and, while Clara Schumann directly evoked some of the great works of her husband, no such immediate connection can be traced between the compositions of Wagner and his wife, save in the case of the “ Siegfried Idylle,” which was composed by the master to cele- brate her love, their son Siegfried, and the happy days they spent in Switzerland. Wagner was twice married ; his first wife, a singer in one of the theatres where Wagner directed, was a great beauty, and a loving, self-sacrificing nature. She bore actual poverty with her husband in the dark days when he struggled, unrecognized, in Paris. Unfortunately she was unable to comprehend the scope of Wagner’s genius, and this created an abyss between the pair which all her affection was unable to bridge over, and poor Minna Planer was sacrificed on the altar of that genius. They separated, and soon after her death, the composer married the divorced wife of von Billow, a nature which fully undei'stood his artistic aims and which proved a ver- itable helpmate to him in his subsequent career. The union was a very happy one, and never could Wag- ner, both as a composer and man, have met with more absolute recognition than he did at the hands THE WIVES OF THE GBEAT COMPOLEBS. 175 of bis second wife. lie, too, gave her a greater affection than be had ever shown to human being before . Bach was twice married and had a family of more than a score of children, twelve sons, one of them (Wilhelm Friedemann) a genius, four of them great musicians and composers, and one an idiot. The children of the first wife seem to have possessed the most remarkable talents. Bach left her at one time to go on a short tour ; she was in perfect health when he departed, but when he returned she was in the grave. The entire domestic life of the old composer was like that of a Scriptural patriarch. He lived tranquilly amid his large family, trusting in God, and singing His praises in loftiest music. He soon married again, and seems to have lived as peacefully with his second wife as with his first. When he died, the large family was obliged to disperse, to earn their l)read, for the great composer was very poor. The widow, now grown old, had nowhere to turn for aid, and to the everlasting disgrace of the city of Leipsic, which Bach had served so long and well, she was obliged to end her days in the poorhouse there. It is a strange fact that the family which was so numerous when Bach died in 1750, became entirely extinct in the early part of this century, and it is also sad to know that many of them underwent the sever- est privations of poverty. 176 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Beethoven and Handel were both unmarried, but the former was not uninfluenced, by the charms of women. The beautiful song, “Adelaide” was the result of an unrequited attachment on the part of the composer, and the romance of the seventh and the humor of the eighth symphony (a perfect out- burst of animal spirits) owe their origin to the fact that the composer was in love when he wrote the works. With Handel the case was different, for, al- though his biographers speak of the fact that two different ladies of quality conceived an affection for him, the case is by no means proven, the fair admir- ers remain incognito, and the whole affair may have arisen in that hero-worship which seizes upon so many of the musical biographers. Even if true, there is not a scrap of evidence that the composer in the least degree returned the passion he inspired. In fact, Handel was at times as rough with the softer sex as he was with men ; his threat to throw Cuzzoni out of the window of the theatre, where a rehearsal was in progress, and where the caprices of the prima donna promised to interrupt matters, shows that he was not always chivalric in his treatment of the sex. It is impossible to trace any of his compositions to female influence. Spohr married a celebrated harpist — Dorette Scheid- ler — hence some of his works are for that instru- THE WIVES OF THE GEE AT COMPOSERS. 177 nient, which really became important only after Erard’s improvements in 1810. He also composed works for violin and harp, in which he and his wife appeared in concert ; thus some of his compositions came about directly owing to his wife. She certainly deserved the compliment at his hands, for when, upon his deathbed, he spoke of the possibility of the music of heaven being different from that of earth, his spouse showed how she valued his works by re- plying, “ It may be different, but it cannot be better than yours !” Weber also married a musician — Caroline Brandt — a soubrette of the German stage. The lady, while not very keenly alive to the loftiness of the art, be- came after marriage, a good wife. Among all these citations of conjugal bliss, at least one specimen of the reverse may be noted ; Haydn had a thorough experience of domestic infelicity. He married the elder daughter of a wigmaker, having fallen in love with the younger, but she declining to marry, he obliged the father, after earnest solicitations, by transferring his affections, yet keeping them in the family. The result was disastrous, for the woman proved to be utterly unfitted for the composer, and their married life seems to have been especially tem- pestuous. Haydn on his part, however, was not al- together an immaculate angel, and gave cause for many a well-founded jealousy. 178 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. With one more allusion to a composer’s wife, we close this feminine subject ; the wife of Mozart was to him a pleasant companion, a congenial nature. Poor lady ! she had but little to share with him but pov- erty, but they bore it brayely together and Mozart’s sunny nature was sufficient to gild it. Yet it might have been better if Mozart, like Schubert, had yielded to the decree of an empty purse, and never married. COMPOSERS AT PLAY. If one examines the characters of any of the great composers, it will be found that each of them has a streak of humor, or at least geniality, running through it ; and that, in many cases, this has found its vent in music at one time or another. To picture briefly the humorous side of the music of some of the great com- posers will be the aim of this article. Certainly, in the sedate and earnest John Sebastian Bach one would scarcely expect to find a playful mood, and, in his severe contrapuntal Avorks, it would seem to be hope- less to search for a humorous side, yet even he left be- hind him some purely humorous musical works. Two rather lengthy cantatas — The Peasant's Cantata and The Coffee Party represent the comical side of the works of Bach. It must be confessed, however, that the humor is rather ponderous and Johnsonian. In the latter, for example, a father tries to wean his daughter from her constant attendance at gossip- ing cofiee parties (the coffee party is, in Germany, somewhat like the serving circle, in America), and ( 179 ) 180 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. promises her a husband, if she succeeds in break- ing the habit. The music is of the most florid, contrapuntal order, and is not, in any essential re- spect, different from the more serious works of the master. Haydn gave vent to his humorous musical ideas in such works as the Toy Symphony , where many of the parts are rendered by children’s toy instruments, and the Surjjrise Symphony {mit dem Paukenschlag) , where a sudden and violent drum- stroke produces a very humorous effect. The Choice of a Conductor , a little cantata composed for a club, was also filled with playful touches. Mozart often descended to purely humorous music, and dearly loved to make a joke in tones. One of his greatest efforts in this direction is called the Musical Joke — Pin Musikalischer Spass — for two violins, viola, bass, and two horns. In this, he pictures the efforts of an ambitious but ignorant leader of a small country orchestra in composing a symphonic work for his band. All the crudities of a half-formed com- poser are present in the work. Sudden and mis- placed cadenzas of the most florid character occur in the violin part ; the brasses burst in forcibly when- ever there is a dearth of ideas ; and, finally, in an endeavor to end the work with a fugue, the poor composer nearly meets with total shipwreck. The exposition of the fugue is pompously made ; but COMPOSERS AT PLAY. 181 there the ideas stop, and forte effeets cover up the composer’s ignominious retreat. It is one of the most humorous pieces of instrumental music ever written, but of course can only be thoroughly appre- ciated by the educated musician. Not all of Mozart’s jokes were so innocent. One of his most skillful works, and, in fact, one of the finest three-voiced canons ever written — Lectu Mild — is insulferably vulgar and coarse in its humor. Beethoven gave no entire composition in the humorous style, if we expect op. 52, No. 1, where he writes a thoroughly comic song, with some four- teen verses to it, entitled “Urian’s Travels Round the World”; but, in his fifth, sixth, and eighth sym- phonies, we can find touches of humor, which find especial vent when he introduces either the contra- basses or the bassoons. He greatly enjoyed joking with the latter instrument. AYhat, for example, can be more ludicrous than the performance of the intox- icated bassoon player of the village band in the third movement of the sixth symphony, or what more quaint and odd than the elephantine grace of the bassoon passages in the eighth symphony ? The composers of Germany have always had one species of musical jest among themselves in the com- position of enigma-canons, where one phrase only was given, and the distance of the imitations, the 182 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. interval of time before their entrance, the choice of clefs, the style of the imitating voices (whether in augmentation, diminution, contrary or direct) were left for the puzzled recipient to discover. A whole series of finely constructed canons for pianoforte, for four hands, by Weitzmann, were recently published in Germany in this enigmatical manner.* The intense and combative AYagner also, at times, enjoyed joking in tones. His burlesque work, A Capitulation, can, however, scarcely produce a laugh, since there was so much bitterness in it that the wit was all turned to gall. But in his Master singers of Nur- emberg gives many humorous instrumental touches. The entrance of the toy-makers to the disagreeable stopped tones of the trumpets, the tapping of Hans Sachs during Beckmesser’s Serenade, the parody of noble Preislied, with an atrocious steel-harp accom- paniment — all these are legitimate musical jokes. In modern days, few of the composers descend from their pedestal to enjoy such tricks as these ; yet, only recently, a great success was made at the Apollo Concerts in Boston by a pure bit of musical fun, composed by America’s great composer, John K. Paine. It was a fine, musical setting forth of * Another often used musical jest was the beginning of a fugue or other instrumental piece with the letters of some friend’s name. Thus, there are works beginning B. A. C. H. ^German B), G. A. D. E., etc. COMPOSEBS AT PLAY. 183 the virtues of a patent medicine. The certificate of the sufferer’s release from rheumatism is given with an impressive, mysterious agitato. The price of the medicine is heralded in [)ure contrapuntal style, and the piccolo figure from Beethoven’s Egmont Overture is laid under contribution to swell the chorus of praise at the end. This is the only very recent in- stance of a great composer at play ; but we feel sure that the various examples which Ave have given will prove to our readers that even the greatest of composers do not always think it necessary to hedge their music in with awful dignity, but believe that “A little nonsense now and then, Is relished by the best of men,” and by musicians also. MUSICAL CEITICISM: ITS HISTORT AND SCOPE. ( A PAPER read before the Music Teachers’ National Associa- tion in Boston ;) Music is so intangible an art, it deals, in its best sense, so entirely with the emotions, that it is impos- sible to find for it as fixed a criterion as for its sister aids. Poetiy has grammar and versification, painting the objects of nature, sculpture anatomy, — as obvious foundations upon which canons of criti- cism may be built ; but the rules of musical construc- tion differ in different ages. The composer who used a dominant seventh before 159d would have been criticised as violating the laws of musical grammar while he who omitted the dominant seA^enth alto- gether, after the seA^enteenth century, AAOuld haA e been reproached as puerile. To end a composition with an empty fifth, in the last two or three centuries, would haA’e been deemed a musical crime ; to end it oth- erwise, at a preATOus time, would haA^e been held equally wrong. ConsecutiA^e fifths , now so strenuously forbidden, were once deemed eminently desirable. ( isi^ MUSICAL CRITICISM. 185 “But,” one may retort, “ these things are all of the past : we have no such crudities today.’' Very true ; but there must have been a transition period, when the critics — then also the teachers — said, “This would-be reformer is insane : he is violating fundamen- tal musical laws.” These laws are violated in our day by two widely differing types, — the radical music- thinker and the ignoramus. It is easy for the critic to discriminate between these, but more difficult to discern where the advanced composer has broken a fetter by violating an arbitrary law. The critics, in such cases, too often bring up the rear of the pro- cession of progress ; they become too frequently merely the conservators of landmarks that have been set by bolder spirits ; and when a yet freer genius arises, who advances art in a new or unfamiliar path, they quote his predecessors against him, only, however, to accept his views when they have borne the test of time, and in turn to quote them against some newer musical liberator. Thus, Haydn was quoted against ^lozart, Mozart against Beethoven, and Beethoven is now being cited against Wagner. Haydn was, in his day, compared to a raving Bedlam- ite of music. Of Mozart, it was said (by Ditters- dorf) that his music was overloaded, that he presented more thoughts than the hearer could possibly digest. These are the words; — “Scarcely does a beautiful 18jS THE BEALM OF MUSIC. thought appear over which one would think a little, when another springs up, and crowds it away, so that, of the many beauties, none are retained by the mind.” To-day there might be criticism of Mozart, but it would be upon the score of simplicity, not of com- plexity. We pass to the time of Beethoven. The Allge- meine musikalisclie Zeitung of March 6, 1799, says of the eight variations “line Fievre Brulante”: “ Many of the modulations may be viewed in any and every way, they will still be, and remain, flat ; and, the more learned and pretentious they strive to be, the more flat they become. There are too many variations published in these days without the com- posers seeking to know what real variations mean.” Another critic advises Beethoven to study Mozart, if he ever hopes to know what variations should be. The Trio, op. 11, called forth the following sentence : ^‘Mr. von Beethoven could give us pieces of great excellence if he would but write more naturally, and without so much aflectation.” The three sonatas. Op. 10, drew forth renewed advice and rebuke, as follows (June 5, 1799): “They are loaded with needless difficulties. After all the labor and study of playing them, they contain no pleasure wwth the trouble. Mr. von Beethoven goes his own road, and a tiresome, eccentric path it is. Learning, MUSICAL ClUriCISM. 187 learning, and nothing but learning, and not a bit of nature, not a bit of melody ; and even the learning is crude, undigested pedantry, without method and with- out arrangement, a seeking after curious modulations, a hatred of ordinary progressions, a heaping up of diffi- culties until all patience is lost.” The Sonata Pa- thetique brought with it the accusation that the final rondo was plagiarized. Was all this stupidity or malice? No; a new school of music had arisen, and the critics were try- ing to measure it by the old standard. They had not the ability to measure the innovations by the only test possible, — that of emotional grandeur, of inher- ent power. All their canons of art, and even of grammar, were set at defiance. Nothing daunted the new inconoclast. “/allow them, ”said Beethoven, speaking of consecutive fifths to Ries, his pupil. His horn tone ( in the Eroica Symphony ) on the tonic against the strings on the dominant seventh was like a gauntlet thrown down before the martinets of musical grammar. Yet mark the change ! By the time the Ninth Symphony was reached, the critics ac- cepted the frightful dissonance with which its finale begins with few protests, — a dissonance which, rep- resenting the strife and contentions of humanity, was hideous in its cacophony, yet entirely appropri- ate. It was not only the professional critics who led 188 THE REALM OF MUSIC. these attacks upon the reformer, — composers have al- ways been noted for the zeal with which they rebuke those who differ from them in their line of musical thought. Haydn “ did not expect a great deal from Beethoven, ” Weber satirized his style royally, and Spohr cordially disliked the vein of the bold radical, and also disesteemed his opponent, Weber. Bee- thoven sneered at Weber in return, and said that he could never attain more than the art of pleasing. The whole subject of composers as critics lies open before us in these contentions. Many who superfi- cially examine the matter hold that no man should as- pire to take rank as a critic before he has proved his ability to create in the same field where he proposes to sit as judge. As a matter of fact, composers have often been the most illiberal of critics. Accustomed to work in one direction and in one path only, they, more than others, held that there could be no other roads to the temple of art. Mendelssohn, elegant, melodic, symmetrical, would have been the weakest of critics to judge of the works of the rugged, earnest Schumann. The same axiom above suggested applies in a kindred realm, — that of poetry. Poets often become the most biased critics of poetry ; and a Swinburne cannot appreciate a Tennyson, while Keats is called by Byron an “ almanac poet.” To- day, we have the spectacle of almost all the compos- MUSICAL CRITIC ISM. 181 ) ers who have l)een trained in the conservative school, — Kheinbcrger and licinecke, for example, — under- rating Wagner, and all those who have come under the inliuence of his friend and disciple, the romantic Liszt, overrating him. The composer is a partisan of partisans, and this the critic may never be. That three composers — Schumann, Berlioz, and Hiller — became prominent critics, scarcely invalidates the rule. Schumann was freed from partisanship by his noble and generous nature, Hiller by an exceptional degree of general culture, and Berlioz was pleasing rather because of his keen wit than because of im- partial judgment. Yet Berlioz has left us a lesson which deserves to be heeded. There is no necessity that even the most earnest critic should be dull. There is a difference, a marked difference, in this re- spect, between different nations. The English critic, the same who set Mendelssohn on a very high pedes- tal, and crushed Schumann under it, deems it a duty to become dignifiedly dull whenever any musical topic is to be discussed ; but the German musical reviewers following Schumann (Hanslick, for example), and the French critics following Berlioz (as Escudier), do not disdain to use ridicule, satire, badinage, as weapons. One would gladly see these qualities ap- pear more frequently in American criticism, for much music of the cheaper class is as correct as a Scotch 190 THE REALM OF 31USIC. Sabbath, and has as little variety; clinging securely to the rock of tonic and dominant, it never meets dis- aster, as far as musical grammar goes ; yet it has been one of the most pernicious influences in Amer- ican composition. The thousand and one pieces mis- called “popular,” and bearing the titles. Transcrip- tion de Concert^ Fantasie Brillante, etc. (generally in very doubtful French), have impeded the accept- ance of real music, composed by our Paines, Chad- wicks, Whitings, and Mac Dowells, because they have been accepted by many, outside of our musical centres, as real concert music. To criticize earnestly such rubbish is to break a butterfly on a wheel ; but ridicule is a shaft against which they are defenceless, and which treats them in a manner more akin to their intrinsic worth. The American critic has an especial duty in this field. In no country is music so univers- ally studied as in our own ; but in no country also has there been so much of superficiality in the art, and such an omnivorous appetite. The person who finds Wagner’s WallaUre “ awfully nice” one week, finds the latest musical burlesque “perfectly splen- did ” the week after. The critic here must separate the wheat from the chaff for a public which does not al- ways take time to think for itself. The musical atmos- phere is not yet around us as it is about the dwellers in old^r countries ; the standard is yet very fluctuat- MUSICAL CRITICISM. 191 ing, and it is our duty to fix it, and to set it where the numerous pseudo-professors shall not lower it. This is an easy task where honesty and even moderate ability are combined, but behind it lies the higher task of seeking for the greater geniuses who shall arise under the new condition of things. Will our critics apply the old-fashioned yard-stick of technical- ity when a composer shall arise who shall be sut gen- eris? Will they, as many European reviewers do, judge of the form rather than of the contents of the works of such a comi)oser ? The error which too many of our critics fall into is that they regard criticism as synonymous with fault-finding, and if they can find nothing to blame in a work they say very little about it. Many a reputation as a great critic has been won in precisely this way. Turgueiiief, in one of his short sketches, gives an admirable account of a fool who wanted to be considered a wise man, and wholly succeeded in his scheme, simply by finding fault with everything that other people admired ; and these other people, ashamed to be discovered ignorant, at once changed their opinions, and found fault too, but voted the fool a very keen observer and well informed gentle- man. There are such fools somewhat nearer than Kussia, and an adverse criticism is always more piquant than a favorable one ; nevertheless, the critic 192 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. must endeavor to devote some of his time to the dis- covery of beauties which are too subtle to be appre- ciated by the public. Of course, the critic’s mission is ever two-fold, first, to lead on the public, second, to guide the artist or the composer, and point out modes of betterment which may occur to an outsider much more readily than to the composer or artist himself. The first is by far the more agreeable task, for it is an abstract one. Even if he should abuse the public and charge it with ignorance and lack of taste, each reader takes the charges complacently, and acknowledges that they exactly fit — his neigh- bor. With the guidance of the composer or artist, the duty is less pleasant. The musician does not be- lieve that you desire to help him, and imagines that you could not if you tried. “What have you got against me ? ” is the reproachful question which im- mediately follows such a review. He cannot imagine that criticism can exist apart from personality ; and, in fact, the personal plane upon which many criti- cisms are built gives some color to his supposition. Nevertheless there is a reverse side to the picture ; and the proudest trophies of the critic are often, not the compliments of the laity, but the letters from artists acknowledging the truth of this or that com- ment, and promising to profit by it. I have spoken of the critic who judges by techni- 3IUSICAL CBITICISM. 198 calties only ; naturally, such a critic must be, to some extent, a musician. In contrast to such a one is the critic who is not a musician at all. He is not always without an influence in musical matters, as our art stands today, provided he be a man of refined taste and general culture ; for then he represents the thought of the best portion of the public, and to know this is of some value to the artist. Naturally, his work is one-sided at the best, and he becomes simply a convenient medium of communication between the audience and the artist. The public can, to be sure, express its approba- tion spontaneously and on the spot, without the intervention of the non-musical critic ; but its disap- probation is not so easily understood, since 'the ‘ ‘ hiss ” is not acclimated in this country. But the day even of the cultured amateur as a writer is passing away. I need not spend time in more than mentioning the critic who merely makes up his notices (I cannot call them criticisms) from terms taken from the musical dictionaries , who says that ‘ ‘ the staccati and pizzi- cati were well played by the strings, but the wood- wind gave the sforzando effects confuoco.'' Many are the satires that have been pointed at the clairvoyant critic, — the one who reviews a concert without the slight formality of going to hear it. Naturally, such an imposture has no place in our con- 194 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. side ration of the serious topic ; but the existence of such an evil leads me to speak of one of the causes which have produced it. In European journals, the counting-house does not rule the critic so much as it does in America. I do not mean to say that the opinion of any large newspaper, in musical matters, can be bought or sold ; but the artist who inserts an advertisement in any journal here tacitly demands as part of the contract that some criticism shall appear in its columns. When concerts occur at the rate of two or three in an evening, and the critic finds no available substitute , he is forced to wander from con- cert to concert, hearing a couple of numbers at each, and taking these specimen bricks as representative of the entire edifice. It would, in my opinion, be much better to allow a concert to go entirely “ un- honored and unsung ” than to base criticism on such imperfect and partial hearing. Yet every critic will tell you of occasions where he is forced to yield thus to the pressure of circumstances. Mistakes must often occur in such reviews, and each mistake brings criticism into disrepute. I shall certainly not add to this by giving a list of such errors, yet we all know that they have occurred ; and even from Edward Hanslick, who may, I think, be regarded as the greatest living critic, down to the fiippant and care- less criticaster, the army of musical reviewers is con- MUSICAL CRITICIS3I. 195 tinually adding to the catalogue. It would be well if the critics had more liberty of choice as to what concerts were worthy of review, and Avere permitted to drop many of the lesser ones from the list (when overcrowded), and concentrate their acumen upon representative performances . Between the composer and critic there is often a deeper feud than between the artist and the unfortu- nate re\dewer who has l^elittled him. The composer fails to see that sometimes the critic may be right in condemning his audacious modulations or his devia- tions from established form. Merely to break estab- lished usage is not sufficient to prove genius. “ Quod licet Jovis, non licet Bovis.” Only those who have given proof that they have mastered the rules of music have a right to break them. The mere possession of the faults of the great com- posers is sometimes held to be a proof of genius. Per contra, the critic who is a fault-finder by dispo- sition, the constitutional “consecutive fifth-hunter,” falls into a - strain oftentimes, which cannot be too scornfully rebuked. “Music is decaying,” he whines, “the good old classical times have gone by.” Non- sense ! The generations after us Avill speak of the good old times at the close of the nineteenth century, 196 THE BEALM OF 31USIG. and will bewail the fact that they have no Brahms, no Wagner, while perhaps equally great composers are living under their very noses. In music, unfor- tunately, no man becomes absolutely great until he has a granite shaft placed over him to hold him securely under, and prevent him from coming back to hear his praises chanted. We cannot judge of a great edifice while standing under its eaves ; it seems that we cannot do justice to a great composer until time has removed him a little way off* from us. The tune of the decadence of music has been sung by critics and composers in all ages and climes. Henry of Yeldig, at the very beginning of the remote epoch of the Minnesingers, wails out that the art of Minnesong is past. Father Marcello, in 1704, says, “Music is gradually deteriorating.” Rameau, in 1760, laments, “ Music is lost ; ” and yet some very respectable composers, named Beethoven, Mozart, Weber, and 4Yagner, came later. We have no Beethovens today,” reiterates the critic, and this time he is right. All our conserva- tories, all our increased facilities of study, all the great increase in the ranks of earnest students, can- not give us a Beethoven. A genius comes in re- sponse to no mortal call, and w^e have no Prometheus to steal for us the sacred fire from heaven. Homer lived among savages who could not understand him. MUSICAL CBITICISM. 197 Shakespeare was a nineteenth century man Ijorn in the sixteenth. A golden period of art-study may exist, and only produce numerous talents. But let not our critics forget that this is the golden epoch of execution, that never in the history of the world has there been such care expended upon the performance of master-works ; and, if they are to faithfully repre- sent the epoch, their own care must be as faithful in the chronicling and in the analysis. We may not demand a Schumann. “In the ocean of musical crit- icism ” (to paraphrase the remark of a great musician) “there are two kinds of beings, — those who are fishes, and those who have learned to swim,” Schu- mann Avas a fish, we have l)ut learned to swim. But you composers and artists who deem that each mis- take proves ignorance, dishonesty, or malice in crit- icism, let me sum up but a few of the errors of great critics, and judge if infallibility is to be expected of the lesser lights. Mattheson l)elittled Handel. Handel despised Gluck, and did not like Bach. Haydn, Spohr, and Weber looked down on Bee- thoven . Beethoven, Spohr, and Spontini laughed at Weber. Cherubini satirized Berlioz. Mendelssohn sneered at Schumann. Hanslick has virulently attacked Robert Franz and Richard AYagner. 198 THE REALM OF MUSIC. Wagner has attacked almost everybody. With such a record before us, let us not be alto- gether disappointed if the American critics do not recognize the first genius that comes along. Let us be satisfied if they are musicians, sufficient at least to analyze a new work intelligently, honest in their in- tentions, and striving to elevate native art while ap- preciating the advantages of following in foreign foot- steps. Mendelssohn’s sneer at critics may be thus freely translated : — “ If composers earnest are, Then we go to sleep ; If they take a lively style, Then we vote them ‘ cheap.’ “ If the composition’s long. Then its length we’re fearing; If the writer makes it short, ’Tisn’t worth the hearing. “ If the work is plain and clear, ‘ Play it to some child ;’ If its style should deeper be, ‘Ah, the fellow’s wild’ ! “ Let a man write as he will. Still the critics tight ; Therefore, let him please himself. If he would do right.” MUSICAL CBITICISM. 199 We may hope that the day for such sneers is pass- ing away ; that, even if the lion and the lamb shall not lie down together, at least the composers and artists may come to look upon the critic not as a nat- ural enemy, nor even as a necessary evil, but as a friend who, while respecting the man. can say stur- dily, with Brutus, “I do not like your faults.” MUSICAL HUMBUG-S. The study of music has become so universal in the United States that it is not surprising that the new field has brought forth a great deal of chaff, together with its wheat. We are not of those who imagine that the American people are essentially unmusical, because they tolerate and even demand a certain amount of humbug in their favorite art. Any one studying the history of the rise of music in America will be forced, in viewing the progress of forty years, to acknowledge that no nation has made such rapid strides and such healthy advancement in art in so short a time. Forty years ago, the singing-school, held all the musical culture (outside of a very few choral societies) which the country could boast of. A few almost self-taught musicians wrote strangely ambitious music for the uncouth performers. The Battle of Prague and Bonaj)arte C^'ossing the Bliine were high-grade selections of the drawing-room re- pertoire. And when 0/g Carrij Me Back, or Camp- town Paces were rejected by the singing-school ( 200 ) V MUSICAL HUMBUGS. 201 teacher, it was in favor of iiiissliapeii fugue tunes and wild attempts at classical ( ?) luirinonics. A music-printer of that epoch has given us statis- tics which conclusively prove that our picture is not overdrawn. The sales of some very successful i)icces did not exceed a thousand eoi)ies a year. Today, the position of atfairs is totally changed. The sales of Beethoven’s works alone number tens of thou- sands of copies annually ; and the programmes of our choral and orchestral societies have been held up for emulation abroad by some of the best European journals. But out of the ignorance of the past have sprouted the weeds of the present. National thor- oughness is not a plant of such rapid growth, and, as a consequence, much superhciality is cloaked under the universal “love of music.” The humbugs that have sprung up to pander to this failing are easily recognizable, but deserve point- ing out to those who are young in study, and can- not yet distinguish the false from the true. We need scarcely allude to the “patent” method of teaching music by charts i cards, or other devices. These do not teach iJiusic , jhnt do teach a mechanical execution ot tonic, dominant, and sub-dominant chords in various keys,— f a knowledge which the in- telliijent scholar attains without any trouble as he studies the scales, ])roviding he has a careful teacher. 202 THE BEALM OF MUEIC. But these three highly respectable and eminently use- ful chords are underneath three-fourths of all the humbug of music-teaching and playing in America. If a man were to give tuition in simple addition , sub- traction, multiplication, and division, and, after the course, tell his pupil that he had taught him math- ematics, the deceit would be apparent. Yet that is the method employed by the musical tricksters. They teach the elements, and affirm that these are the Ul- tima Thule. The greater part of the “ popular” piano pieces of America come under the class of humbugs, for they are written to foster the deceit. Take up any of the Silver Sprays, Golden Waves, and other metallic wares (really “ brass ”) of the “favorite” composers, and you will find them ticketed Fantasie de Convert, Transcription Bidllante or with other pompous de- scriptions. Open them, and (if you are not practi- cally musical) you will see an array of small arpeg- gio notes that impress you with a sense of the diffi- culties of the work. Listen to them, and you hear brilliant scramblings into the upper register of the piano, and are ready to acknowledge virtuosity, at least, when you suddenly observe that these scram- blings are utterly devoid of meaning, and have a sus- picious sameness. Then you have solved the riddle. The piece is a “musical humbug,” and has endeavored MUSICAL HUMBUGS. 203 to dress up the elementary chords in tinsel splendor, to im[)Ose them on you as true gold. Its wild rushes and cross-hand movements are not so useful nor so difficult as the arpeggio exercises of the modest scholar of an honest teacher (who will not arrive at Fantasies de Concert for some years yet.) The whole farrago can be memorized in ten minutes. We have dwelt at some length on this branch of humbug, for almost all of the systems and methods used by “professors” who accept ridiculously small sums for teaching music in an incredibly short space of time consist simply in making a parade of this ABC lesson in harmony. Harmony itself seems to be a very fatiguing study to the superficial pupil, who is yet beyond being mis- led by the clumsy deception above mentioned ; and it is to this higher grade of incapables that the in- ventor of new systems of harmony addresses himself. In addition to teaching the elements, a few chords and modulations, his views upon “progressions,” are, to say the least, progressive. He cites a few examples of the misdeeds of the Wagnerian school, and then tells his pupil, who has studied perhaps a week, “Go, and do likewise.” In other words, his patent time-saving system of teaching harmony consists in saying: “Write your progressions as you please. There will always be 204 THE BEALM OF MUSIC similar instances in the works of Wagner, Brahms, or even Schumann and Beethoven. Twenty dollars, please.” Another class of humbug, and a very num- erous one, is the too-learned vocal professor. He seldom teaches singing, but advertises as a “voice- builder,” “teacher of vocal technique,” “founder of the respiratory organs,” or something of that terrify- ing sort. He does not sing to any appreciable ex- tent, but he has memorized the eutire nomenclature of “ the little muscles with the long names,” and frightens his pupils with “thyrohyoid ligaments,” “lateral crico-aretynoid muscles,” “glosso-pharyn- geal nerves,” etc ; and his room contains a sanguin- ary assortment of throat models, in various stages of dissection. We do not mean that singing should deny itself the advantages of scientific research, but we aflSrm that many of these pompous teachers only use their slight physiological studies to befog and humbug their pupils. Porpora, who certainly was a good vocal teacher, was entirely ignorant of the anatomy of the throat. Another numerous class of innocent “humbugs” are the young misses, who, while taking lessons on the one hand, give lessons to very young scholars on the other. They generally do this without consult- ing their teacher, and of course without his sanction. This pernicious practice of taking second-hand MUSICAL HUMBUGS. 205 music lessons is bred of the laughable idea, firmly rooted in the uncultured mind, that “anybody” will do to teach a beginner. As if “anybody” might do to plan a house, while the bricks must be laid by an artist, or “anybody” might be employed to cut a coat, but the later work must be confided to the best workmen ! But there is scarcely need to define further. The humbugs above sketched are the leading types. It is safest to distrust the distinguished professor who has discovered means of shortening the road to either piano-playing, singing or harmony, or who teaches at a price who suggests that his own tuition must have been very cheap indeed to allow him to do so. Twenty, even ten years hence, the rapidly growing intelligence of American music lovers will have made such an article asThis needless ; and then we shall be able to smile at, as we now earnestly protest against, “musical humbugs.” DEIFICATION OF COMPOS- ERS. In one of his wonderfully bright “Breakfast Table” books, Dr. Holmes speaks of the necessity of view- ing Scriptural events and phrases through contempo- raneous spectacles, and occasionally putting aside the mist which time has hung about them, that they may become more lifelike, and be denuded of undue indistinctness. It has often seemed to us that a nearer approach to the great composers, where hero- worship has been pushed even to mild deification, might in one sense be a desirable thing, although the gilding of the demi-gods might sufier thereby. The anecdotes which have been hung on this, that, or the other musician, have changed them from lifelike fio:- ures into unnatural statues. That the earliest of our composers were thus treated is pardonable, for they belonged to the Church, and exercised their talents exclusively for the Church. Their lives were sober and righteous, and in pursuing music they rarely forgot to seek a ( 206 ) DEIFICATION OF COMPOSEBS. 207 pure harmony within, as well. In strong contrast to these were the secular musicians, who were, by law, classified as “vagabonds,” and did their best to deserve the name. Careless and merry wanderers, they led a roving gypsy life, and did not care deeply that they were social Pariahs ; but from this cause suffered the greater composers of the last century. From this cause, they could not have been the statuesque na- tures which many biographers claim them to have been. In Haydn’s life we see all the outcome of a con- tumely which was the musician’s lot in the last cen- tury : it made him a lackey to the great, a ruler to the humble. In his childhood, manhood, and age, if one disassociates the man from the musician, one constantly finds traits which are not out of keeping with John Thomas, the typical fiunkey of Punch. Ell passant, it may be said that the full, unbiased life of Haydn has yet to be written. Handel, in spite of the powerful nature which car- ried him through opposition and apathy to a trium- phant success, was known in his time as the “Ger- man Hog.” His furious temper and enormous ap- petite were the spots on an otherwise great charac- ter. The frivolity and thoughtlessness of Mozart, the many weaknesses of Schubert (which made him 208 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. poor and kept him so) , have been carefully glossed over by many of their biographers. The weaknesses and failings of Wagner have yet to find their place in his history. It is time that this deification should cease : we do not wish, to specially attack the com- posers of the world, but we protest against the efforts of biographers to invariably unite goodness of music with goodness of character. It may be caused by the ancient law of caste, which made them “ vag- abonds, singers, and jongleurs ” of the Middle Ages ; it may be caused by the unnecessary onesidedness of the musical education ; but the fact remains that these demigods, when scrutinized, turn out to be very ordinary clay. One name however, can survive the scrutiny of the honest biographer. Great as musician and great as man, Bach can stand unabashed in “the fierce light that beats about a throne.” This exception Only proves the rule, however, and should rebuke the un- founded belief that the work and the maker are one. The ideal composer, as the ideal painter, poet, and statesman, should be pure and noble in private life as in his public work ; but let us not deceive our- selves into believing that this high plane is already reached. THE CASTE OF THE MUSI- CIAN. In Europe in the last century the musician was held to be only a superior order of servant. He was happy if he could secure the patronage of some rich nobleman, and this accomplished, was content to be addressed as “Er,” the contemptuous third per- son of the Germans, or to perform even menial ser- vices, when required. This is startingly shown by advertisements of about a hundred }^ears ago, where- in we find calls for footmen who w^ere able, on oc- casion, to sing in concerted music, and valets who could, when required, sustain second violin or viola in a string quartet. All this false position came from the fact that concerts had not become frequent at that time, and the musician could not draw^ his sustenance directly from public favor. England was someAvhat better off in this matter than continental Europe, for concerts for the public had their be- ginning there and were always looked upon with fa- They began in the reign of Charles II and ( 209 ) vor. 210 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. came about because of the introduction of the new drink named “Coffee” into London. When the first coffee-houses were established they became a sort of exchange where the first business men, and men of leisure also, met, and the proprietors soon tried to enhance their drawing powers by giv- ing free music to their guests, and as this proved vastly successful, they soon found it advantageous to add better artists to their musical attractions and to charge a small entrance fee while the music was going on. These were the earliest regular public concerts. In continental Europe nothing of this kind was attempted, and the musician often found himself the slave of some petty aristrocrat who cared little for music and less for its representatives. The result was baneful in the extreme. Haydn was treated entirely as a menial by the Esterhazys until after he had won popular success in London. In early life he was Porpora’s bootblack, and it was only when he was world-famous that he was able to break the fetters of an iron caste. With Mozart the case was far worse ; in the first place he had a far more sensitive and less servile nature than Haydn, and secondly, his master, the Archbishop of Salz- burg, was a much greater “cad” than prince Ester- hazy. On one occasion when Mozart ventured to de- mand a slightly better position he was kicked out of THE CASTE OF THE MUSICIAN. 211 the room forcibly. Schubert, when teaching at the castle of the Esterhazy’s, was content to associate with the servants on a footing of equality. It is only in this century that the status of the musician has been socially improved to its proper level. Nor was it Beethoven who wrought the change. He, to be sure, roundly abused his princely patrons even while receiving their favors, and shocked the courtier and poet Goethe by pushing in his shirtsleeves through a gathering of noblemen whom he met during one of his rambles ; but this was a kind of bearishness that pleased them even because of its odd flavor, and they looked upon Beethoven as a strange and uncouth an- imal to be borne with because of his oddity. It was Liszt, however, who first thoroughly voiced the standing of a true musician, and in a manner worthy of a gentleman, too. When, on his return from one of his concert tours, he met the Princess Metternich in a salon crowded with nobility, and was asked by her whether he had done a good business, he replied, severely, “ I make music, madam, not business ! ” And in that remark the dignity of the position of the musical artist was first announced to the fashionable world. THE EVOLUTION OF VERDI. Or all the great composers of the present, Verdi, as a whole, has been most independent of Wagner. He avoids the leit-motif as if it were poison, and even in orchestration seeks out independent paths. Yet even the most Teutonic critic will acknowledge that Verdi has progressed, and in an extraordinary de-i gree, since he brought forth his first operas a half cen- tury ago. In 1839 he brought “Oberto di San Boni- facio” before the Milanese public, and won immedi- ate recognition. He was then twenty-six years of age, for Verdi was born in the same year in which Wagner saw the light — 1813. It is said that Verdi is at present engaged in writing a comic opera on the subject of the Shakesperian work, “The Merry Wives of Windsor,” and many newspapers have char- acterized this as a new departure. It is not so new as these commentators think, for, in 1840, the com- poser wrote “Un Giorno di Begno,” a comic opera. It must bring back strange recollections to the com- ( 212 ) THE EVOLUTION OF VEIWL 213 poser to work again at the lighter school, for when he was composing this early comic opera, by a grim irony of fate, the darkest misfortunes came upon him, and within a few months his entire family, con- sisting of his wife and two children, died. It is scarcely necessary to state that the opera was a flat failure, the chief one of all Verdi’s career. The first very great success (speaking from the popular point of view, for to the earnest musician, all of these early operas were failures) was “ Nabucco,” which in 1842 was produced at La Scala in Milan. He afterwards married the prima donna who cre- ated the part of the heroine of this opera. At one time a fortuitous circumstance brought Verdi into the cauldron of political events. Northern Italy at this era belonged to Austria, and any shouting for Liberty or for Victor Emanuel was punished as trea- son. At this juncture it was discovered that the let- ters of the composer’s name formed the initials of the following sentence, “Victor Emanuel Ee D’ltalia,” (Victor Emanuel, king of Italy) and in a very few days all the revolutionists were screaming their throats out with “Viva Verdi.” The police did not at once discover the cause of this wild enthusiasm for a young composer, but it served as a rallying cry for the people. “ La Traviata” made a failure at first for reasons given in another article. 214 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. The whole list of the operas mentioned, with many others besides, can be dismissed with the observation that they were not high art, although the singable character of the melodies and the easy flow of the music should redeem them from utter contempt. There is much that is enjoyable even in ‘T1 Trova- tore.” “Rigoletto” contains a quartet which is in- spired. But these operas belong to the composer’s second period when he curbed his tendency to noise and sensational tours deforce^ and when individuality and vocal contrast took the place oi fortissimo ensem- ble work. But it is in his third period that Verdi deserves the recognition of all fair-minded musicians In “Othello” and ‘ ‘ Aida ” one finds dramatic purpose, beautiful tone-color and legitimate musicianship. All honor to the composer for not having rested content with a merely popular success, for seeking to lead the people to something higher, and for evolving what may truly be called the operatic school of modern Italy ; and if the new opera conies to com- pletion may it redeem the failure made so long ago in this field in a year when the composer was so pro- foundly unhappy. It is because of the deterioration of the operatic libretto that the Verdi of forty years ago deserved censure chiefly. If Wagner had done nothing else but import poetry THE EVOLUTION OF VEBDL 215 and common sense into the operatic libretto he would still deserve the recognition of the world. In old days it seemed to l)e imagined that any subject would do for musical treatment, and that the words were merely a peg on which to hang the music. Telemann said that he could Set a handbill to music, and in Germany, during the last century, much of the poetry “ for music” was not more inspiring than such commercial literature would have been. With all the various kinds of homage that have been given to the genius of Wagner, few have ap- preciated the fidelity with which he has reproduced the manners and customs of the middle ages. In this respect the great composer was as much a his- torian as many who have won world-wide celebrity in this branch of literature. In “Tannhauser,” for example, the manners of the Minnesingers are de- picted with as much care as if the opera were an essay upon the old epoch of German life. In “Lo- hengrin,” the details of the combat, the festivities at the castle, the morning call of the trumpeters, the bridal processions, etc., are faithful reproductions of life in mediaeval times. But it is in “Mastersingers ” that the master reaches the height of detailed exacti- tude. In this opera every point of the musical life in Germany in the fifteenth and sixteeth centuries is touched upon, and the work stands forth the most perfect history of its times. 216 THE REALM OF MUSIC. In France the operatic libretto was occasionally most absurd and the dramatic unities were scarcely ever thought of, as, for example, the libretto Avherein, when the hero falls in the water and is drowning, the chorus sings a selection some five minutes long before proceeding to his rescue. How many heroines have gone mad in order that the great composer might give all manner of contrasts in a “mad scene ” in the third act of the opera ! ! Dinorah goes crazy, and a shadow dance is the result ; Linda is betrayed and gives wonderful cadenzas in the last act of her opera ; Lucia di Lammermoor, as all the other operatic heroines, sings better the crazier she becomes. Once in a while the composer allows his tenor to partake of this musical madness, and Lionel in “Martha” sings most brilliantly in the moments when he is not lucid. It may not be generally known that Wagner himself, in his younger days, perpetrated such a mad scene ; in “Die Feen,” his first opera, the king goes temporarily insane. In those days, however, Wag- ner was frankly copying Bellini and Auber. Yerdi becomes quite angry if any one asserts that he has in any way been benefited by the labors of Wagner, but he has certainly improved in a marked manner since he has left the old, conventional and stupid libretto, and the cause of his taking up a better class of operatic subjects and loftier poetry THE EVOLUTION OF VEBDL 217 may be sought in the fact that Wagner’s nolhe poems had made the other school nntenal)le. The contrast in the case of Verdi is a most marked one. In the “forties” he had two poetasters for his lil)ret- tists, and they were rather his slaves than his co- laborers. Coherency, possibility, probability, his- tory, or literary beauty mattered nothing to Verdi so long as he could make a musical point ; he reversed Wagner’s maxim and seemed to think poetry the servant of music. His disregard of history may be ofathered from the clians^es which he made in his “Ballo in Maschera” which was too revolutionary in its assassination of Gustavus III to suit the police in Naples. On this it was taken to Rome, where the authorities were disposed to allow its perform- ance provided the party assassinated were not a king. Verdi very obligingly changed the assassinated party into a mythical “Earl of Warwick, Governor of Boston,” and had this incongruous Puritan murdered at a masked ball which presumedly took place at the Massachusetts State House ! Nor was this all, for when Mario appeared in the part he declined to use the Puritan garb and the governor aforesaid became metamorphosed into a Spanish don. Today Verdi collaborates with the most musical poet of Italy, Boito, and chooses Shakespearian sub- jects for his muse. Let us be thankful that a thun- 218 THE BEALM OF MU8IC. de-rstorm has cleared the atmosphere, and that since the real dramas which have been set to music in Germany no one dares to employ such puerilities as were in vogue on the operatic stage a quarter of a century MUSICAL ANTAGONISM. Judging by some recent musical literature the name of Mendelssohn has become a veritable shib- boleth to the Wagnerians, and that of Wagner serves the same purpose in the camp of the Mendelssohnians. In recent days we have read of Mr. Cro west’s vener- ation for Mendelssohn as the “ last of the Titans,” and also have seen in Mr. Kobbe’s ex(;ellent life of Wagner, “the innocent respectability” of Mendel- ssohn’s music. The opposition here displayed re- minds one that there have been many such feuds be- tween eminent composers (who, by the way, make the poorest musical critics imaginable) , and that poster- ity generally ends by accepting both of them. Wag- ner was the composer who managed to antagonize more composers than anybody else. He disliked Schumann and said of him that he had “a certain tendency towards greatness ” and uttered many other sarcastic sentences of a similar tendency, while Schu- mann remarked, “Wagner is, to tell the truth, not a good musician. His music is hollow, disagreeable, ( 219 ) 220 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. and often amateurish. The world has, however, ac- cepted both. Mendelssohn described Wagner as a “talented dilettant.” Wagner and Schumann both attacked Meyerbeer, but “Les Huguenots” is yet to be heard on the operatic stage when a grand enough singer can be found for the fourth act. Beethoven despised A¥eber, and said that “he never attained more than the art of pleasing,” while Weber, who had a very poor opinion of Beethoven, wrote a satirical article on the finale of the fourth symphony, and after the first performance of the seventh symphony said “Beethoven is now quite ready for the insane asylum.” Yet Weber’s music has not diminished in lustre, even in the sunlight of Beethoven’s greatness. Handel laughed at the musical efibrts of Gluck and said, “He knows no more of counterpoint than my cook!” yet the glory of “Orpheus” has not passed away, although it is more than a century since it was composed. If Johnson, as has been said, “liked a good hater,” then he should have studied the lives of the great composers and he would have found de- light in their interminable quarrels and recriminations . These acrimonious antagonisms may have arisen from the fact that each composer is thoroughly wedded to some particular school, and so closely that he can- not see any merit in any other. It may be also that the emotional nature inseparable from the true com- MUSICAL ANTAGONISM. 221 poser lias something to do with these strong dislikes. Yet in these latter days when the bitter [)amplilets of Wagner are so widel}^ read it may be well to draw a lesson from the past, and not give adhesion to the antipathies of any composer, however great he may be, and it may be as well, too, to remember the hict, that one school of music does not necessarily abolish another. ANCIENT ESTIMATES OF THE POWER OF MUSIC. In ancient days when music was held to mean more than a mere succession of tones, and combined poetry, the laws of symmetry, mathematics and melody in a harmonious whole, poetry and music were indisso- lubly connected and the poet was a musician, the musician a poet. The Hindoos therefore admitted the natural and philosophical part of music into their holiest book — the Veda — while admitting the science of tones only to the second division of Lesser Sciences. The ancient Egyptians divided music into two kinds, the good and the evd, and held the former kind to have its origin in the harmony of the spheres, an idea which Pythagoras afterwards introduced into Greece. The Egyptians did not admit much music in their religious rites, and this is a notable excep- tion to the custom of ancient nations, for the Greek, the Roman, the early Christian, and, above all, the Hebrew, made music the art which was to be chiefly dedicated to the service of religion. The Hebrews ( 222 ) ANCIENT ESTIMATES OF MUSIC. 223 in Jerusalem of old united dancing with music, but this dancing must not be understood in the modern sense, for it was chiefly pantomimic, consisting of expressive gestures; what we now call “dramatic action” would come very near to describing the ancient dances. Pythagoras held that all music came directly from nature; “All is number and harmony” was his favorite maxim. He attempted to reproduce the harmony of the spheres in the scale, even going so far as to give the names of the planets to the differ- ent notes, the earth being the controlling tonic note. The order of the Pythagoreans which he founded, and which embraced among its members the leading noblemen or partricians of Greece and Italy, believed in music as one of the most elevating of arts, and mathematics, music and astronomy were studied faithfully by them, and believed to intertwine. It was obligatory to play on the lyre in the morning to set the soul in tune for the trial and labor of the day, and the same process was employed at night to calm the disciple and purify the spirit. Whenever any great excitement came to a Pythagorean, the aid of music was sought to restore the equilibrium. Other ancient philosophers also used music and appreciated its power, although not in so great a degree as Pytha- goras. Plato, for example, while acknowledging the power of vocal music, set his face against instrumen- 224 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. tal music, and said, “the use of instruments without the voice is barbarism and quackery.” Aristotle, however, was more liberal in the matter, and said that music was a delight, whether instrumental or in combination with the voice, but he excluded the flute from this dictum, as he thought that instrument immoral and only capable of inflaming the passions. Plutarch defended the flute and it became afterwards the religious instrument of ancient Eome. It is a great pity that among all these estimates of the power of music we can form no sure opinion as to the merits of the ancient music, for every detail of its practical execution has been lost. THE DEVELOPMENT OF TECHNIQUE. It is interesting to note how exactly the progress of piano technique has kept pace with the develop- ment of the instrument. When the staccato spinet and clavichord were the instruments representing this school of music there were absolutely no rules of fingering, the thumb was not used at all, and the hand was allowed to skip about without any guide save the caprice of the performer. Sometimes only two fingers were employed. Domenico Scarlatti used the full set of fingers (but very rarely the thumb) and invented the crossing of the hands in pianoforte music. Bach first brought the thumbs into regular use, and the position with the thumb on the key-board was long called the “Bach-Griff.” His son Philip Emanuel Bach, brought in the system of scale fingering and may be styled “the father of piano-technique,” for the foundation of our system is to be found in his “Art of clavichord playing,” the first technical work of any real value. We have ( 225 ) 226 THE REALM OF MUSIC. already stated that Beethoven’s orchestral mind en- riched the piano by demanding greater effects, some- times too great effects, from it. Hummel also must be credited with advancing the instrument, es- pecially in the matter of embellishments, reforming the old school, and systematizing what he retained, dementi also belongs to this epoch, and did yeo- man’s servive in building a new technique. The piano was now fairly launched, yet there was no sus- picion of the great importance it was to assume, nor the wonderful effects that would yet be drawn from it. Moscheles represents the transition period to- ward the new school, and his studies are still held as valuable contributions to the student’s repertoire. Thalberg first brought the legato into proper prom- inence and showed how to make the piano sing. In Liszt however, came the culmination, and through him and the poet of the piano, Chopin, we have reached a point of technique beyond which it wdll be almost impossible to go, until further improvements are made in the instrument. There is but little doubt that the technique of the modern musician has advanced far beyond the standard attained in the preceding centuries. This is the true era of execution, and the most marked progress has been made in all the departments of performance save one, — vocal work. The orchestra THE DEVELOPMENT OF TECHNIQUE. 227 plays better than it did during the classical epoch, and Beethoven never heard his symphonies so well performed as they are nowadays by the great or- chestras such as Pasdeloup’s, or the Viennese Or- chestra under Gericke, or the Boston Symphony Or- chestra. This comes from the fact that public sup- port of concerts makes a greater outlay of money upon them possible, advance in public taste makes more rehearsals a necessity, and the great de- mands made on the orchestral player by the modern composer have led to a much higher standard of in- dividual excellence. A few details will suffice to show the last-named fact. In the last century , and through- out the classical period, the orchestral composer thought that he was sufficiently exacting if he de- nianded a three-lined G from the violins, while now almost any composer will go a fourth above this note without any compunctions. Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Bach, etc., would not make use of violin har- monics in their orchestral works, as they thought them too difficult to be well executed ; Wagner in his prelude to “ Lohengrin” and in other cases has used these high tones freely and has been followed by many modern composers. The old composers did not make use of the pedal-tones of the trombones, considering them also as too difficult for the orches- tral player ; the moderns use them freely. The im- 228 THE BEALM OF AIUSIG. provements in instruments, as Boehm’s keying of the flute and Erard’s double-action pedal for the harp, have also had something to do with this progress, and we may rest serenely content in the conviction that we are hearing music better performed than it has been in any epoch of the history of the art. The earliest pianos were so crude that they did not oust the clavichords, harpsichords and spinets for nearly a century , from the date of their invention. Even the piano of Beethoven’s time was crude and un- satisfactory. It seems strange to many that Beetho- ven could have written his great Sonata Op. 106, for so clumsy an instrument,* and there are too many who ascribe this to the prescience of genius. It was rather due to another cause ; Beethoven’s was an orchestral mind ; whatever he thought in music came first to him with the tone color of some orchestral instrument. We have his own statement confirming this fact. All his piano sonatas are orchestral works set in a piano notation only, and therefore, as the modern piano became more and more orchestral, it approached closer and closer to the Beethoven thought as expressed in the sonatas ; but the Op. 106 is still beyond even the modern piano, and remains a thinly disguised orchestral work, full of the noblest *Yet the “hammer Klavier” for which this was written was much in advance of preceding instruments of the piano family. THE DEVELOPMENT OF TECHNIQUE. 229 thoughts, which however, require a broader vehicle of expression. We have said that improvements in different in- struments, as the flute, and the harp, have affected the modern sehool of composition. In no case has this been so marked however, as in the development of the piano. We have intimated that the predeces- sors of this instrument merely gave a constant suc- cession of staccato effects ; the consequence was that the composers overcame this defect by introducing trills and other embellishments ad infinitum. What began in necessity soon became the foundation of a false taste, and the performers of the last century added their own embellishments to those of the com- poser, so that in France there were spinet players who have boasted that they could give an embellish- ment to every note of a piece, from beginning to end. Naturally on such instruments, finger action only was cultivated, and even this is but a crude and perfunc- tory manner, totally different from the systematic training of today. In piano-playing technical ability has been pushed far beyond what the players of a couple of genera- tions ago would have deemed possible and it is cer- tain that in this case at least, virtuosity is its own re- ward. The cause of this is found in the fact, that while the pianist of the classical period was an all-round 230 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. musician, the pianist of today is generally a specialist. The pianists of Beethoven’s time, generally played some other instrument as well. As they could not make a livelihood by mere piano-playing, they generally added to it violin, viola, and other or- chestral instruments by means of which they would enter some orchestra. Now-a-days the artist is able to devote his entire life to the piano, and still reap a pecuniary reward. Eight and ten hours of practice, each day, have wrought wonders, and the modern piano virtuoso has probably attained very nearly the utmost limit of skill in rapidity and delicacy of finger action at least. We have spoken of the general advance in musi- cal technique, yet have made one exception — vocal work. In the matter of vocal technique there has not only been no advance but there has been retro- gression from the solid work done in past days. It is a very evident fact that the sbiger now-a-days is the “spoilt child” of music; generally he is not so thorough a musician as the pianist, and imagines that, because nature has given him a good larynx, whence he can force a high C, he is absolved from much musical study. It was not so in the last cen- tury, in the days of Porpora, of Cafiarelli, and of Farinelli ; then the vocalist, however gifted, was obliged to study with the same thoroughness as other THE DEVELOPMENT OF TECHNIQUE. 231 musicians. In fact the singer should study more than the other musicians for he has a doul)Ie work to accomplish. The violinist can buy a fine Amati or Stradivarius, and starts equipped with a perfect in- strument ; the vocalist does not ; he has first to make his instrument, for almost every voice has physical defects at the outset, and, after that, one has to study its use. Most especially in America is the haste which is displayed in musical study fatal to really good singing. There is no l)ranch of musical study which needs to proceed more slowly than vocal work. ^^Festina Lente ” ought to be written over every vo- cal teacher’s door. And if, when the vocalist has mastered his branch of work, he would also pay some attention to the study of harmony, orchestra- tion, etc., we should have better musicians in the vocal ranks, and a high note, would no longer, like charity, cover a multitude of sins. Very few of those who merely dabble in music, ever dream of the pleasure that would be added to a merely technical performance, if a knowledge of mu- sical form, also, were added to the education of the fingers. Probably not one in a hundred of the drawing-room amateurs knows anything al)out the architecture of the pieces so glibly played. It may have been Madame de Stael who said “Architecture is frozen Music,” but it can be asseverated with 232 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. equal truth that Music of the classical order is as shapely, as generally symmetrical, as a cathedral or a castle. It is only that performer who can recognize the relationship of the component parts to the whole, who can give a really intelligent rendering of the composer’s intention. If two pianists of equal tech- nical abilities perform a Beethoven Sonata, the clearer presentation will be given by the one who knows exactly what constitutes the chief theme, where the second theme begins and ends, what portions of the subject matter the development is dealing with, when the return of themes takes place, what the coda is built upon, etc., etc. But there are smaller divisions than these which demand recognition. Just as poetry is built up from syllable to poetic foot, from foot to line, and from line to stanza, mu- sic can be synthetically followed from note to sec- tion, from section to phrase, and from phrase to pe- riod, and a knowledge of musical form is absolutely essential to a proper presentation of these. In po- etry these divisions become in part recognizable by the spacing of the printer. The line in poetry stands by itself, while the correlative phrase in mu- sic is merged into the general mass ; yet the true reader senses the lesser accents and divisions which cause hexameter, pentameter, etc., and the Iambus, the Trochee, the Amphibrach, or the Anapaest, are THE DEVELOPMENT OF TECHNIQUE. 233 recognized in accent if not always in name. Wliat would one think, for example, of a reader who would render the first stanza of “ Casahianea ” — “The boy stood; On the burning deck whence all, But he had fled the flames. That lit the battle’s wreck. Shone on him o'er the dead. ” The above seems absurd in every feature, yet ex- actly such absurdities are frequently perpetrated by those who attempt to play classical pieces without having some knowledge of their architecture. Let any person without a perception of the subtleties of musical phrasing, try to perform a piano tran- scription of the Scherzo movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, especially in the passages where three-barred and four-barred rhythms follow each other, and he will make of it something akin to the disguise of the familiar quotation above. If such knowledge is necessary in the performance of sym- phony or sonata, in fugues it becomes still more im- perative. It is very seldom that one hears an amateur play a fugue intelligibly. The fugue is the very flower of musical form, the perfection of logic in music. Here, more than in any other style of composition, one can watch the growth of a musical figure or phrase into a whole composition as a seed grows 234 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. into a tree. Yet all this logic, all this growth, is lost to the sense if the performer has not studied musical analysis and form. Many of those who attain to sonata or fugue playing commit the error of study- ing musical architecture after they have acquired technical ability : this is putting the cart before the horse with a vengeance (or building the house from the roof downward) for if the study is taken up si- multaneously with the work of classical playing the labor- of both is lightened, one assisting the other. Yor can the opponent of such study escape into the domains of Wagner’s music : it is not formless, this so-called “ music of the future,” but simply in a new form, and in all the opei’as from “ Lohengrin” to “'Parsifal” the student will find a figure develop- ment that is luxuriant and complex beyond belief. Therefore whether the young musician is radical or conservative, whether he intends to compose or teach, whether he desires to become a concert artist or only to play in private “for his own amazement,” he is still bound to devote a reasonable part of his time to the study of the architecture of his Art. EMOTION IN PERFORM- ANCE. There is no point in music so generally misun- derstood by the amateur as the proper use of emo- tion in performance. The amateur believes that if he is dreadfully moved by some musical work, the audience must surely share his extreme excitement, and is much astonished when he finds that the public grows more cold as he grows more hysterical. The professional rules his emotion, and causes it to work its greatest effect upon the audience ; the amateur allows it to expend all its force upon himself, and is thereby rendered partially unable to regulate the im- pressions made upon others. One reads many pretty anecdotes of singers giving selections at this or that occasion of solemnity, with tears streaming down their cheeks ; it is as well to pause a moment, however, and remember that under such circumstances the singing must have been re- markably poor; “tears in the voice,” may be a very . ( 235 ) 236 THE BEALM OF MU8IC. poetical expression, but they are rather bad for the action of the larynx. When Patti sings “Home, Sweet Home ” how many exclaim “Oh ! how she must feel that song;” not at all ! her “lowly thatched cottage” is not even in her native country, and cost a million dollars or so. We have heard her sing this song a dozen times, and each time with exactly the same shading, the same sigh on “Ho-o-o-me,” the same apparent emotion. It is reasonable enough to suppose if she has sung this song over five hundred times, that part of the emotion has oozed away. Yet at one time there must have been a degree of emotion, but, it must be borne in mind, well combined with artistic instinct = Let us borrow an instance from the field of drama. An amateur is playing the part of Richelieu in Bul- wer-Lytton’s well-known work. He comes upon the great lines — Ha ! say you so ! Then wake the silent power, Which, in the age of iron, hurst forth to curb the great and raise the low : Mark where she stands Around the form I draw,” etc., etc. He feels aroused by their loftiness, he is filled to overflowing with their grandeur, he is stifling with the breadth of the climax, — and the audience only see a ranter in a ridiculous state of excitement and vehemence. EMOTION IN PEBFOBMANCE. 237 Now a great professional takes the same phrases ; Edwin Booth has recited them Imndrcds of times ; he perceives all the points that the intelligent but emo- tional amateur has been crushed by, and he determines to deliver over these emotions intact to the audience ; he dares not lose sight of any part of the vehicles which are to do this ; he knows, and thinks of each gesture that is lofty, he uses all the loftiness of oro- tund voice ; the audience is moved and thrilled, — the actor is not cold, either, but he has schooled his facul- ties so that while sensing an emotion he does not permit it to overthrow him. The musician must work on the same principle ; he must study to transmit his emotions to the public, and not allow the flames to burn themselves out in his own person. SHAKESPEARE AND GOETHE IN MUSIC. It may be regarded as an axiom that great poets produce great musicians. Whenever a poet gives forth a lofty thought there is sure soon to come a composer to give it a worthy musical setting. The influence of poets on music may therefore be regarded as a very real one. Shakespeare, for example, has been the cause of more compositions, the inspiration of more composers than any other poet. It is not necessary to speak here of the musical taste which Shakespeare himself possessed ; suffice it to enumer- ate a few of the great musical works to which his plays have led. “The Tempest” has given rise to a symphonic poem by John K. Paine, and a ballet ( ! !) by Ambroise Thomas. “The Merry Wives of Wind- sor” has become a fine comic opera in the hands of Nicolai, and rumor says that Yerdi is now essaying the same opera in vaster style, while such composers as Salieri, Balfe, Adolphe Adam and Ritter have used the libretto at one time or another. “Measure for SHAKE8PEABE AXD GOETHE IN AIUSIC. 239 Measure” led Wagner to compose “Das Liebesverbot” and the influence of Shakespeare on this great com- poser was always powerful. “Midsummer Night’s Dream ” caused Mendelssohn to write his playful overture, his grandest march, and some of his dain- tiest music in shorter form. “The Taming of the Shrew” introduced a real genius to the world (alas, too late to save him from a death caused by poverty) in the shape of Goetz. “Macbeth” inspired Yerdi. “Richard III” caused Yolkmann to compose a fine overture and to introduce “The Campbells are cornin’ ” a century before it was written I “Coriolanus,” brought forth nothing, although Beethoven’s over- ture, written on Collin’s drama, might suit well enough to Shakespeare’s also. “King Henry YIII” caused St. Saens to write a very long opera which deviates greatly from the Shakesperian plot, but con- tains a pretty Scotch l^allet and some lofty music. “Julius Caesar” gave Schumann an opportunity to produce a large overture. “Romeo and Juliet” has inspired many composers ; firstly Bellini set it as “I Montecchi ed i Capuletti,” and then Gounod used the libretto ; as an overture it appears among Tschai- kowsky’s compositions and is his best work in that form, becoming almost a symphonic poem ; Feydeau, Yaccai, and Zingarelli used it;- but the best inspira. tion in music which arose through this noble play was 240 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Berlioz’s symphony of the same name, for in it the French composer tells the story of his affection and of his own Juliet, (Harriet Smithson) and besides he was a devout Shakesperian as far as his French in- stincts would allow him to be. “Hamlet” has been set by Thomas, and in a more worthy manner than the “Tempest” noted above, for this time we find an opera and not a ballet. “Othello” was weakly set by Rossini, but became the grandest opera of the whole Italian repertoire of recent days through the com- bined efforts of Boito and Yerdi. Surely the fount from which the composers have drawn is a noble one, and it is not dry yet nor are all the compositions that were taken from it mentioned above, but sufiicient has been collated to show that Shakespeare’s influence was a very great one in the realm of music. Although Shakespeare has been more universally set to music than any other poet, yet certain subjects used by lesser writers have achieved an amount of musical setting that is almost incredible. The legend of Faust seems at all times to have had an attraction for composers, and most of these who have used the subject have employed Goethe’s great philosophical poem as the basis of their music. Probably the com- poser who came nearest to the poet’s ideal was Schu- mann, who caught something of the contemplative character of the subject, although one could well have SHAKES PE ABE AND GOETHE IN MUSIC. 241 spared the setting of the weaker, third part of the poem. Liszt used the subject as a symphony, in which Marguerite is the most excellently characterized figure. lYagner in a Faust overture strove to depict the character of Faust alone, without introducing Gretchen at all. Gounod, on the contrary, makes his opera of “Faust” hinge chiefly on the character of the heroine, and the Germans justly call the work “Margarethe.” Berlioz, with his customary morbid style, turned from the Goethian story, which ends with the salvation of Faust, and produced a work in which the hero is sent to perdition, and which is called “The Damnation of Faust.” Among large subjects “Faust” is the one best supplied with music from different sources, and probably the many con- trasts of the subject, the fiery, proud character of Faust, the delicate and womanly Marguerite, the sardonic, mocking, merciless Mephistopheles, con- tribute to this. When we turn to smaller poems, however, it is not so easy to see why certain ones should be so pre-em- inent in the minds of different composers. “Du hist wie eine Blume” (Thou art like a Flower) is prob- ably the most composed poem in the world. 4Ye have seen some eighty settings of this poem, and there are over two hundred in existence. Goethe’s “Ueber alien Gipfeln ist Kuh” is a prime favorite in 242 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Germany, and there are countless settings of this in different languages, even in the Russian. Among English poems Tennyson’s Break, Break, Break !” seems to take the lead. The two first poems having been set to music by great composers, one would think that the lesser lights would let them alone, but experience teaches that the reverse is the case ; the moment a master has set a poem to glorious music, all the composerlings rush to the same subject to show how much there is in the poem that Schubert, or Franz, or Schumann, or Brahms, have failed to per- ceive. MUSICAL NOVELS. There are, among the many who take up the study of music, and the many more who take an in- terest in the art, a host who desire to be fed on senti- mentality and imagine that it is one of the fittest adjuncts of tonal work. These misguided ones never hear a l>eautiful musical work without desiring at once to know ‘ ‘ its story ” and they imagine that to every such composition there must be joined some personal anecdote. It is to this large, but misguided, public that the musical novel is generally addressed ; it gives them every possible anecdote re- garding musical compositions and their creation, and where no such anecdotes exist, it invents them. The influence is a most baneful one. Pure music can be enjoyed without any knowledge of the cir- cumstances of its production, but if, after learning a noble composition, one desires to study its his- tory, and something of the composer, at least one should seek for the original truth, and not allow fancy to run riot. The chief fault to be found 244 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. with most musical novels is that they mix truth with fiction in inextricable confusion. “ Charles Auchester ” is a type of such a school of writing, and has done probably, as much harm as any quasi- musical work ever written. Musical students im- agine a vague Mendelssohn, and an impossible Joa- chim after mooning over its pages. Yet worse, are those “Musical (?) Sketches” which give a false history of a special work, for they prevent a proper perfomiance and a correct appreciation of the par- ticular composition of which they treat. Beethoven, for example, wrote his Opus 27, Yo. 2 as a Sonata in the free style of a fantasia. He had no thought of an especial romance, no regular and precise story to convey, but allowed the music to exert its true function and stimulate each one who heard it to poetic ideas and beautiful thoughts. That each auditor should wreathe some different dream or weave some different train of thought around it was natural and proper, for people draw thoughts from music only in proportion to their own natures. But there comes along the musical romancer, and at once writes out a story of the “Moon- light Sonata,” and brings in a blind girl, a forest in the moonlight, and heaven knows what other theat- rical and sensational adjunct, and the deed is done ; henceforth the noble army of musical gushers will MUSICAL NOVELS. 245 rhapsodize about the work, chiefly because of the sentimental tale ; the story will bo first, the music second, in their shallow pates, ever after, and when a pianist like von Biilow confirms their romanticism by playing the work with the lights turned down, they imagine that they have “ confirmation, strong as Holy A^'rit.” Schumann wrote a dainty little composition in which by upward progressions, by short phrases, and by an imperfect cadence at the close, he pro- duced an interrogatory eftect ; most appropriately he entitled it “Warum?” — “Why?” It was one of a set of works called “ Phantasie Stiicke,” and w\as dedicated to a Miss Laidlaw. But circumstances like these have no power on the musical romancer ; the work becomes in his hands a proposal of mar- riage ! Schumann is separated from his Clara ; she pines alone, — so does he; the father, Friedrich Wieck, will not be moved ; at last Schumann writes this little composition and has it conveyed to Clara Wieck ; she looks it over, she comprehends it, and rushes to her stern parent with it ; he too reads it over ; he is melted ; he sends for Schumann, joins the hands of the young lovers — ‘ ‘ Take her and be happy ; bless you my children ! ! ” Is it not all too weak and puerile to be tolerated ? Yet spite of the fact that Schumann brought suit at law, whereby he 246 THE REALM OF MUSIC. finally forced old Wieck’s consent, there are thou- sands and tens of thousands who prefer the cheap tale as given above, and love to have it related to them when listening to the Schumann composition. Do we need the musical romance or novel? Would musical literature be prosaic without it? Not at all ! Let those who require some stimulant of sentiment expressed in definite words read the letters of Mendelssohn ; they will find there all pos- sible brightness, daintiness and sweetness. Then, if they desire something with a fiercer “ tang *’ and a more sardonic humor, let them read Berlioz’s aut- obiography and memoirs. Do they desire a drama? The life of Mozart or of Schubert will furnish it. Is a love story necessary ? The story of Robert and Clara Schumann is as full of true romance as the story of Abelard and Heloise, or of Petrarch and his Laura. If a tragedy is needed, the lives of Stradella, or of Wm. Friedemann Bach have some of the elements. There is sufficient fact in the lives and letters of most of the musical composers, to do away with the necessity of intertwining fiction with musical literature at all. But even in becoming familiar with the more dramatic facts of musical his- tory the student must beware that they do not usurp the place in his mind which actual music should occupy. THE TECHNIQUE OF COM- POSITION. Few persons, outside of practical musicians, have even the remotest idea of how composers work at their musical creations. There was a painting, com- pleted only a few years ago, which was entitled, “Beethoven Composing,” wherein the great master was represented with his eyes rolled up to heaven, and two fingers resting on the keyboard of a piano! The painter must have imagined that a composer picked his melodies and harmonies out by means of the keys of the instrument. In reality, the composer works at a desk or table, exactly as if he were writ- ing a letter, and to some who have composed very much, the fluency of writing (after the idea has once been formulated in the mind) is as absolute in the one case as in the other. Schubert, for example, wrote songs as rapidly as his pen could fly. He would arise from his bed at night, if suddenly seized by a musical thought, and immediately write it down in full, after which he ( 247 ) 248 THE REALM OF MUSIC. would return to his slumbers. Once in such a case, he seized the ink bottle, instead of the sand with which he intended to dry his hasty writing, and poured the entire contents over the manuscript. But the best proof of the true composer writing without the presence of the musical instrument is found in Schubert’s composing “Hark! Hark the Lark” on the back of a bill of fare, in a Viennese restaurant, far from any piano. Schubert very rarely changed anything in his manuscript after it was once com- pleted, almost the only exception being his ninth symphony (C major) in which there are some won- derfully beautiful interpolations. Beethoven on the other hand made constant changes up to the moment of printing, — and even after. Beethoven, instead of picking out his melodies with two fingers as repre- sented in the painting mentioned above, really did the greater part of his composition in the open air, jotting down each musical thought in a memorandum book, whenever it came to him, and it was no un- usual sight to see him stop in the midst of a street in Vienna, and write some phrase which had just oc- curred to him, while the larger part of the ninth sym- phony was written in the branches of a tree which still stands at Schonbrunn, just outside of Vienna. One of the most interesting contributions to musical literature is the work by hiottebohm, in which the THE TEC UNIQUE OF COMrOlSITION. 249 phrases contained in these menioranduni-l)Ooks have been collected, and it is a usefid task for the musical student to compare the original rough drafts, with the finished compositions as we know them, for it thoroughly inculcates the lesson that genius has an infinite capacity for taking pains. An orchestral score is not usually composed spon- taneously but is built UD Diecemeal. The composer generally sketches out the string parts, which are the back-bone of the modern orchestral works, jotting down such passages as he knows are to be wholly brass or wood-wind, in their appropriate places. Now he adds other instrumental touches along this musical skeleton until it begins to assume its perfect shape. This is the general procedure although there are ex- ceptions. AYhen Mendelssohn visited the Isle of Staffa in the outer Hebrides, he was so impressed by the wonderful Fingal’s Cave, that he at once jotted down twenty measures in full orchestral score, and sent them to his sister Fanny as the best expla- nation of how the island impressed him. These measures afterwards became the chief theme of the “Hebrides,” or “Fingal’s Cave” overture. After this he more than once displayed his mastery of the techique of composition, by writing entire orchestral scores complete at once, filling in each measure as he went along. But nothing is gained by this, and it 250 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. was mere display to compose in this manner. As regards the musical handwriting of some of the com- posers, we can add that Beethoven wrote an abomin- able scrawl, almost illegible ; Mozart wrote a dainty, but almost microscopic set of notes, and Wagner was probably the finest and most perfect writer of them all, his manuscript being as clear as copperplate. It would make a very interesting addition to musical literature, if some one would write an essay upon the “Musical handwriting of the great Composers” and give specimens of each. AN OLD MUSICAL DIC- TIONARY. The musical nomenclature of our language is un- doubtedly in a rather hazy condition, but it is a mis- take to suppose that our forefathers were better off in this matter than we are. The Italian terms which have come into use in all civilized countries began with the rise of opera, and indeed, before the year 1590 there seemed but little need of any signs of expression whatever, for the music of the old contra- puntists had but a minimum of expression. The writer of this article has recently come into possess- ion of a book of musical definitions which is of espec- ial interest as being the first published in the English language. It is entitled “A Short Explication of such foreign words as are made use of in Musick Books,” and states its purpose most quaintly in its preface. “As Italian and other foreign Musick is frequently made use of here in England, and as our Masters have adopted most of the same Words and Terms in their Musick and Compositions, as the 252 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Italians and others do in theirs, it is humbly presumed that a short Explication thereof will be very accep- table to all those who stand in need of such a Help. This not being intended for the use of Masters but only for such Gentlemen and Ladies who being Lov- ers of Musick, nevertheless may possibly be ignorant of the true Signification of many of the said Terms, the understanding of which is very necessary, because a great Part of the Beauty and Agreeable- ness of Musick depends upon a right and proper Method and Manner of performing it ; and nothing of this Kind having yet ajpjpeared in our Language is the Keason that the following Explication, which at first was drawn up only for Private Use, is now made Publick.” The little work, which belongs to the earliest part of the last century, proves how the Italian terms had spread along with the Italian music, and also shows that they were not always perfectly understood. Here are a few musical definitions as accepted by our forefathers in 1720. “Adagio, by which is sig- nified the slowest movement in Musick, especially if the word be repeated twice over as ad agio- ad agio.” I doubt if the world would be quite satisfied with the definition of the much disputed term — Andante, — “Andante, this Word has Eespect chiefly to the Thorough Bass, and signifies that in playing, the AN OLD MUSICAL DICTIONARY. 253 Time must be kept very just and exact, and each Note made very equal and cUstinct the one from the other.” Some of the definitions are exactly the reverse of what would hold true of the words in question today, as for example, “Assai, this word is always joyned with some other AVord, to lessen or weaken the Strength, or Signification of the AA^ords, it is joyned with, as ADAGIO, GRAVE 01* LARGO, wliicli do all three denote a slow Movement, it signifies that the Musick must not be performed so slow as each of those AA^ords would. require if alone.” Arpeggio is given the quaint spelling of “Harpeg- gio” in this little book, and PP is defined as meaning Piu Piano, while PPP is set down as Pianissimo, and is defined as “Extream soft or low.” The rule is also laid down that to repeat any word twice is to double its strength, and that therefore piano-piano is twice as soft as simply piano, and forte-forte twice as loud as a simple forte. But the climax of lioldness of definition is reached when voce is interpreted to mean “any noise or sound,” although the editor sub- sequently confesses it to apply more generally in mu- sic “to a Humane Voice !” But most particularly the little work is useful in explaining the dances of that epoch, which have been preserved to the modern player of piano through the 254 THE BEALM OF 3WSIC. Suites of Bach and of Handel. It may l)e borne in mind that at this early epoch, the dances which form the old Suite were in his^h favor in Enoland and that therefor the volume is at least an authority upon the usage of that country in their interpretation. We find, among others, the following definitions: ^‘Allemanda, is the Name of a certain Air or Tune, always in common Time, and in two Parts or Strains, each Part played twice over. “CiACONA, a Chacoon, a particular Kind of Air always in Triple Time, containing great Y ariety of Humor, contrived to a Bass of eight Bars, and these played several times over ; but not so much confined as is the Bass of a Ground, but is allowed to vary every Time to humor the Treble, and some- times to imitate it. These Airs are commonly played in a brisk and lively manner. “Galliarda, the Name of an Ancient Dance, or Tune belong- ing thereunto, commonly in Triple Time, of a brisk, lively Humour, somewhat like a Jig. ‘Havotta, a Gavot, an Air of a brisk, lively Nature, al- ways in Common Time, divided in two Parts, each to be played twice over, the first Part commonly in four or eight Bars, and the second Part in Four, Eight, Twelve or Sixteen Bars, or more. ‘‘Giga, gicque, or gigue, is a Jig, which is a Dance or Air, very well known, of which some are to be played slow and others brisk and lively, and always in Triple Time, or one Kind or other. AN OLD MUSICAL DICTIONAIIY. 2f)i) “Loure is the name of a French Dance or tlie Time there- unto belong'ing, always in Triple Time, and the Movement, or Time, very slow and grave. “Passacaglio, or passacaille, is a kind of Air, somewhat like a Chacoone, but of a more slow and graver Movement. “Sarabande, a Saraband, a kind of Air always in Triple Time, and commonly played very grave and serious. N. B. — A Saraband and Minuet are very much alike, in several respects, excepting the different time or Movement they are played in. A Minuet and a Passepied, differ also in the same Manner” These definitions of the old dance forms are cer- tainly interesting in their quaintness, and they cor- roborate the statements of the ancient Mattheson in his work. — “Der Yollkommene Kapellmeister.” The Classical forms of composition were not so well known in England at this time as the dances, and it is comical to find our dictionary-maker put to various make-shifts when defining the forms, which it is evident, he himself but faintly understood. The word “Fhigue” was very imperfectly understood in England, and was often confounded with Canon, in the last century. In another book in the possession of the writer, and dated 1731, the word is defined as meaning “a composition wherein one part imitates the other,” which, of course, is not at all applicable to the episodical part of a fugue ; but our present 256 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIG. author is not willing to commit himself on a doubtful point, and sits on the non-committal fence as follows : “Fucha, aFuge; which is a particular Way or Manner, according to which someMusick is composed, and of which there are several Sorts” — a definition in which not all the resources of modern commentators can prove him in the wrong. He adopts very much the same safe plan in dealing with the delicate matter of Sonata, for on this subject he remarks, “suoisrATA, or SONATA, is the Name of certain Pieces of Instru- mental Musick, which being very common, and well known, needs no particular Description italics are our own) . It is more interesting and instructive to seek the definitions of terms which have altered in their sig- nificance since the early part of the last century. In explaining such»terms as “Symphony,” and “Can- tata,” the compiler is moderately correct and am- ple. In reading the following definitions it must be borne in mind that the Symphony only became a fixed form, an orchestral sonata, after 1750, and Haydn, its founder, had not been born when this lit- tle volume was made. “Symphonia, or simphoxia, a Symphony; by which is to be understood Airs in Two, Three or Four Parts, for In- struments of any Kind; or the Instrumental Parts of Songs, Motets, Operas, or Concerts are so called. AN OLD MUSICAL DICTION ABY. 257 “Cantata is a Piece of Yocal Musick, for one, two, three or more Voices, and sometimes with one or more Instruments of Musick, of any Sort or Kind ; composed after the manner of Operas, consisting of Grave Parts and Airs intermixed one with another. “Concerto, a Consort, or a Piece of Musick of several Parts, for a Consort.’^ With one more glance at the old dictionary of Musick, we close the book ; it is interesting to see what changes have come over the instruments of music in nearly two centuries. The Clarinette did not exist in good enough shape to be reckoned with the orchestral instruments. The king of the wood- wind was to wait nearly three quarters of a century more, before Mozart should discover its beauty and introduce it into his E flat Symphony. We find no mention of it in the book, but the following instru- ments are described : “Alto Viola, a small Tenor Viol. “Alto Violino, a small Tenor Violin. “Arcileuto, an Arch Lute, or very long and large Lute, differing but little from the Theorbo Lute, and is used by the Italians for playing Thorough Bass. “CoRNETTO, a Cornet, which is an Instrument of Musick now out of use, somewhat like a Hoboy.” (This definition is important, as there has been 258 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. some doubt as to what kind of instrument was in- tended by the Cornetto marked in the old Scores.) “DuLCiNO,a small Bassoon. “Fagotto, (a Bassoon) is a Double, or large Bass Curtail. “Flauto Traverso, is a German Flute. “Flute a beg, is a common Flute.” (The above two definitions are also important as showing that the flute ordinarily used in England at this time was the straight flute, sometimes called Flute a Bee, and sometimes the Eecorders.) “ Guitare, a Guittar, a musical Instrument now^ out of Dse with us. “Hautboy, a Hoboy or Hautboy, an Instrument of Musick very common and therefor well known. “PiFFARO, is an instrument somewhat like a Hautboy. “PiFFERo, is a small Flute or Flagelet. “Quart Fagotta, a small Bassoon. “Trombone, a very large or Bass Trumpet, though more properly a Sackbut.” There are many other instruments described, but enough has been cited to show the changes in our orchestra. The Timpani are described as “ often used in Consort as Bass to a Trumpet,” the Violas are described as having frets like a guitar and are AjV old musical dictionary. 259 classified as viola tenore, viola basso, violetta, viola bastardo, viola d’ amour and viol di gamba and the lower stringed instruments seem also to rejoice in a multiplicity of names. The piano was not known in England at this time, although Christofori had invented it a few years before, and is therefore not mentioned. COMPOSERS’ MANU- SCRIPTS. It is a mistake to suppose that all the works of the great composers are in print. There are some works of Mozart, of Schubert, and of Mendelssohn, which are held by collectors merely for their auto- graphic value, and which it has not been deemed worth while to publish. Breitkopf and Hartel have recently been publishing the few remaining manu- scripts of Beethoven, but it is a question whether the posthumous works thus ofiven to the world were worth the trouble. To preserve the noddings of the various musical Homers is surely an unthankful task. Occasionally, however, one finds a posthumous mas- terpiece. This is chiefly the case with the works of Schuheil and Bach. IVith Schubert, poverty was the cause of the occasional disappearance of a great opus. The rescue of the great Ninth Symphony, in C, from oblivion, by Schumann, is probably familiar to most of our readers. The finding of an opera in a mu- tilated state, the servant in the house where Schubert C 260 ) COMPOSEBS' 3IANUSCBIPTS. 2C)1 had pawned it having lit the fire each morning with a page of immortal music, is another instance. The fact that the lieautiful “Unfinished Symphony” lay unknown to the w’orld for nearly thirty years after Schubert’s death is another proof of the dire effects of the composer’s poverty, and the lack of apprecia- tion which existed even after his death. Now, thanks to the rich Koumanian, Nicolas Dumba, the posthumous works of the great composer are pretty well unearthed, although search is still going on for a mysterious tenth symphony which seems to be alluded to in one of the letters of Schubert. With Bach the almost irreparable loss was caused by the dissipation of his eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. When John Sebastian Bach died, in 1750, he divided his manuscripts between his two eldest sons, Wilhelm Friedemann, and Karl Philipp Emanuel Bach. The latter felt the value of the legacy, caused copies to be made, and catalogued his possession in such a manner that no part of it was lost to posterity. Just the opposite was the case with Wilhelm Friedemann; wherever an innkeeper would allow credit on account of a composition left in pawn, there remained a Bach work, and these were placed in just the channels to disappear or to be destroyed. The loss of many of the works of Bach must be ascribed to the dissolute habits of the un- worthy son of a worthy sire. FATAL MUSICAL MASTER- PIECES. There are, in the musical repertoire, a few com- positions which have become famous under false pretenses, that is, they have been attributed to com- posers who are quite innocent of them. This is not an error of recent growth ; the hymns which are as- cribed to Martin Luther, for example, are his only so far as the words are concerned, and even the tune of “Ein Feste Burg” is now generally conceded to have been the work of Franc. The beautiful anthem, “Lord, for Thy tender mercies’ sake,” which is pub- lished with the name of Kobert Farrant, is probably a composition of the early English contrapuntist, Tallis. The beautiful song, “Adieu,” which appears in the Schubert- Albums, is not a composition of that composer, or at least, it was not acknowledged by him in his life-time. Beethoven’s “Farewell to the Piano” was not his adieu to anything of the sort, for his largest piano sonatas w^ere wudtten after its ap- ( 262 ) FATAL MUSICAL MASTEllFIEGES. 263 pearance. Many of these errors are to be laid at the door of the publishers, who are probably not aware of how much misplaced enthusiasm, or gush, they are responsible for, yet the true stories of many of the compositions of the masters are more pathetic and dramatic than the publisher’s tales can ever become. Many musicians and composers have died young. This fact has resulted at times from irregularity of life and habits, at times also from the severity of the struggle with the wolf at the door. These unfortu- nate victims of the frenzy of genius seem to burn themselves out before they reach their prime. “The fatal thirties” has come to be a familiar expression among musical historians, so many composers have died between their thirtieth and fortieth years. Per- golesi was the youngest of martyrs among the mas- ters, dying at twenty-six years of age. Schubert was not much older, however, at the time of his death, which occurred at thirty-one. Mozart was thirty-five years old when he died ; Mendelssohn lived to thirty-eight only ; Purcell, the greatest gen- ius that England ever produced in the art of music, died at thirty-seven ; the list might be extended indefinitely. It seems, however, that when this dangerous age is past the composer has a good chance of longevity. Possibly this is because the world begins to recognize the work of the veteran and his 264 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. trials become fewer and less severe. Cherubini lived to eighty-two ; Handel to seventy-four ; Gluck to seventy-three ; Haydn died at seventy-seven ; Kos- sini at seventy-four ; and an equally long list of septagenarians and octogenarians might readily be compiled from the musical annals. Often some special work was the direct cause of the death of some great composer. Thus Mozart’s work on the Requiem, the superstitions it caused to arise in him, and the funereal thoughts consequent upon it, were the chief causes of his death. “Eli- jah” is said to have killed Mendelssohn. Haydn said on his death-bed, “The ‘Seasons’ gave me the linish- ing stroke.” “Zampa” was the cause of the early decease of Herold, or at least hastened his death, and “Carmen,” caused Bizet, the most promising composer of the French school, to die at thirty-seven years of age. It is a melancholy list and one which proves that art is a severe mistress. The world can- not help the composer as regards the dire results which sometimes follow upon the extreme tension of creation, but at least something can be done, as in France, to secure to him all the possible benefits of his works, so that popular composers such as Mozart, Schubert, Lortzing, and others were in their time, need not at present have povert}' to bear in addition to their death-dealing heritage of genius. HISTORY IN SONG-. Few readers are aware how much of history has been preserved to the world by the agency of music. The early ballads often held the history of the northern nations intact through ages, where but for the association of the recital with music it would certainly have perished. It is a noteworthy fact that the ancient Greeks did not possess the ballad. The epos was the nearest approach to it which we find in their musical and poetic forms. This fact was prob- ably the result of their possession of actual written history and of the drama in its perfection. Butin the north, where these lofty modes of recording past events did not exist, there rose the saga, and the his- toric songs of the bards, which were practically bal- lads, and in England actually became so. Even the children’s songs in that country often recorded ancient events. At times the historians of middle ages did not scruple to incorporate the tales which had been preserved by ballads into their ancient chronicles. Some of these ballads exist even to this day, and “Sir Patrick Spens” tells of a disas- ( 265 ) 266 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. trous voyage to the coast of “far Nor ro way” which cost many a Scottish noble his life, Avhile the old ballad of “The Jew’s Daughter” tells of persecution and prejudice of days long since gone by. In Germany, in the times preceding the days of the Minne-singers (1150-1318) there were ballads of robbery and violence, which preserved the deeds of many a robber-baron for centuries after he had passed away. The music to most of these tales was of the simplest, and was of the strophe form, repeat- ing itself as many times as there were stanzas in the poem. Often there was attached to each line or verse a burden or refrain. Sometimes these refrains carry us back to the most remote times, and many phrases used as refrains in even our modern music at times have an unexpected meaning. “Tol-de-rol,” for example, which is so often heard in bacchanalian choruses, had anything but a rollicking significance even when it was first used, for it was originally “Troly-loly,” and w^as equivalent to a sigh, or our English word “Alas.” Many of the old English songs have as refrain the words “Hey Derry Down.” There is such a num- ber of songs with this burden as chorus that they are known as the “Derry Down Choruses.” But all attempts to find the origin of the words have failed, and the phrase has been traced to such a remote an- HISTOBY IN SONG. 267 tiquity that the historians have concluded that the words were originally a druidical incantation. The ballad in modern days has been elaborated into a great dramatic form by Schumann and Carl Loewe, but the simple and archaic ballad of ancient days has a charm all its own, and has, besides, the advan- tage of telling history in a most popular guise ; but the old bards were often too prone to mingle fancies with their facts, and the modern commentator may sometimes find difficulty in disentangling the one from the other. In times of great national excitement or peril, the true national song is born, and is of course, eminently historic. Every revolution and especially every civil war leaves some permanent music in its train. Yet there is great difference in the results obtained in different countries. In England, during the civil war, for example, there arose two distinct schools of national song, as different as the two contending parties. One can imagine the cavalier, bold, reck- less, insouciant, snapping his fingers in the very teeth of fate and misfortune. His songs were as rollicking as himself. If he had the worst of the battles he certainly had the best of the singing, and many of his songs have been perpetuated to our times. The round-head songs, on the contrary, have almost vanished, and this is natural enough. 268 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. for they were doleful in the extreme. Few persons ever have taken such a keen delight in being miseiv able ; almost every one of these songs spoke of death, of judgment, of the wrath of God. Yet there was a terrilic earnestness about them that told of the sturdy fighter, the warrior who fought for his comdctions and not for his pay. The songs of the French Revolution have, maii}^ of them, an element of lightness and geniality which becomes terrible when one thinks of the sanguinary scenes which they accompanied. The “ Ca Ira ” which was sung al)out the streets of Paris as the people brandished spears, on which were the heads of the victims of popular rage, was a mere opera houffe melody; the “ Carmagnole,” which was danced around the scaflfold where man}^ an innocent woman or child met death, was as rollicking as any country dance. Our own revolution, as our civil war, left but a slight legacy of music behind it. Almost all of our so-called “ national music ’’comes from for- eign sources. “Yankee Doodle ” and “ The Star- Spangled Banner ” come from rather vulgar British tunes. “ The Battle Hymn of the Republic ” takes its melody from a Methodist hymn tune ; “ Maryland, my Maryland ” is a German folk-song ; and the list could be extended much further. THE INTELLECTUALITY OF WAGNER. In an another article we have compared the intel- lectuality of Wagner’s music with that of Bach or Beethoven. Many will imagine that this is a hazardous comparison, but it is one in which all thinking musicians will eventually join. Yet the intellectuality of the three composers was di fie rent in each instance. It may readily be conceded that the best music is that which causes us to think as well as to feel, which awakens brain as well as heart, which requires some degree of mental action as well as mere receptivity. Each of the aboved-named composers fulfills the requisite conditions for such a combination, but each works in a different manner to bring this about. If one examines, for example, the fugue in E-ffat major by Bach (“ Well-tempered Clavichord,” Yol. II, No. 7 ) one finds a work which was a prime favorite with Mozart, who thought it a melodic gem, as well as a masterpiece of com- ( 269 ) 270 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. bination. But the hearer is not permitted to give himself up entirely to the enjoyment of mere tune ; he must follow the subject (a rather long one) and notice the wonderful strettos that are made between it and the answer, and in the ingenious construction he will find almost as much enjoyment as in the beauty of the themes themselves. If we examine the first movement of Beethoven’s fifth symphony we find a majesty of power that reminds us of how “ fate knocks at the door,” and the soul responds to the lofty harmonies ; but at the same time the brain is awakened to follow the the- matic treatment which evolves almost the entire movement from a four-noted figure at the beginning of the first theme and an equally simple one at the beginning of the second subject. This is healthy, normal music, appealing to heart and brain simultaneously, and no amount of such music can weaken either faculties or character. But Wagner is not generally recognized as also appealing to the understanding, yet he has as much of intellectuality in his works as either of the above. The emotional character of his music is so strong that many neophites seek no further, and say quite honestly, “ I love Wagner’s music,” even while they understand very little of it, or at most stand upon the threshold of the palace. One must here, first of THE INTELLECTUALITY OF WAGNEB. ^71 all, understand the guiding figures and their complex employment, 4ind here the brain will find as much employment as in a fugue or a sonata. How much it means, for example, when Gurnemanz asks Parsifal at the end of the first act of the opera of that name, just after the close of the service of the Holy Grail, “ Do you understand what you have seen? ” and the lad stupidly shakes his head, to have the motive of ‘ ‘ Durch Mitleid wissend ” seethe up through the orchestra ! What a mental language is spoken by the ‘ ‘ Name motive ” in the second and third acts of ‘‘Lohengrin!” Besides this intellectuality one must study something of both history and mythology to fully appreciate the meaning of some of the Wag- nerian operas, and this is a good uniting of a mental process Avith an emotiofial one. But if one has not studied the history of which the scenes are unrolled before him in a Wagnerian opera and is therefore ignorant of some of the causes which lead up to them, he can still rely with absolute faith upon the accuracy of the drama, for Wagner was as faithful an historian as a musician, and the auditor can, even in an opera, study history as from an open book. Therefore one may truly say that if the union of intellectuality with emotion be the standard of the highest music, Wagner has fulfilled that requirement as absolutely, although the manner be different, as Bach or Bee- thoven. RACE PECULIARITIES IN SINGING. It would be an interesting contribution to musico- medical literature, to print a study of the effects of character or race upon the human voice. It has been said that “ man is the only animal who laughs,” and it may be added that the human being is the only songster where both sexes warble with equal facility, but a full classification of the human voice and especially in its relation to race, has not yet been made. It is a fairly well-known fact that certain kinds of voices prevail in certain countries ; thus America produces many fine sopranos ; Eussia is the land of phenomenal basses ; and the sweet, high tenor must be sought chiefly in Spain ; but it has not yet been quite determined as to whether cli- mate, or diet and general mode of life, or actual distinction of race is the cause of this definite dis- tribution of vocal compass and timbre. In France one finds a large number of rather thin-voiced tenors (272 ) BACE PECULIABITIES IN SINGING. 273 and these are able to sing falsetto with phenomenal ease. These voices can even be classified with local precision, the finest and lightest ones generally corn- ing from the Department du Midi, while the robuster but coarser ones generally have their home in the De- partment du Nord. The female voice in America is sharper and shriller than that of the Englishwoman or Frenchwoman, and this is especially noticeable in the conversational tone. One can pick out the American lady abroad with unerring accuracy by this trait, for her voice will dominate the entire conversation as an E flat clarinet dominates a whole brass band. The Eng- lishwoman is more usually a full-toned alto, than anything else ; the Frenchwoman almost always is a mezzo-soprano. The peculiar style of singing a full falsetto, called “ jodling,” which is chiefly found in mountain dis- tricts, is another instance of race characteristics in vocal music. So perfectly is this singing done by the Tyrolese that, for a time, scientists held to a theory that the throat of the Tyrolean might have some peculiar formation of its own, superinduced by pe- culiar diet and the drinking of snow-water. Dissection, and the laryngoscope, however, proved this to be false, and since one finds a similar style of singing in the Norwegian Mountains, in the En- 274 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. gadine, and other mountainous districts, one may in- fer that it results from a mode of calling the cattle, which is peculiarly high, characteristic, aud penetrat- ing, and to which these people are accustomed from childhood. The Chinese singing is of a most distressing and ear-splitting character, and it is impossible to describe to those who have not heard it, a series of sounds so fatiguing to the throat or so painful to the ear. One would imagine that the throat of the celestial was of tougher fibre than that of other mortals, but again scientific examination shows that the seemingly abnor- mal result comes from special training rather than from an unusual anatomy. It was almost equally difficult to explain the acceptance of such hideous cacophony, by any human ears as pleasurable, and here too, the theory found upholders, that the Chi- nese tympanum or aural passage might be of different form from those of other races, but again dissection proved this not to be the case. Peculiar types of voice, may be found, upon investigation, to be rather the result of ages of pe- culiar usage which finally produce traits that become hereditary, rather than of climate. That diet pro- duces some marked characteristics in the voices of different races can scarcely be doubted, and we can imagine the blubber of the Esquimaux, and the grain BACE PECULIABITIES IN SINGING. 275 food of the Egyptian, to produce different vocal results, although scientific investigation has not yet proven just what the differences are. The voice of the American Negro is distinguish- able from that of the white singer, and here, perhaps, anatomy may afford a partial clue, for thick lips and a flat nose must influence the tone-production in a certain degree, and many, though by no means all, of our colored population have these anatomical peculiarities. Where these are absent however, the tone is more akin to the ordinary standard of the sinmno^ of other races, and the writer recalls having heard some finely formed male KaflSrs sing, whose voices were of full and mellow toned bass quality, and could not be distinguished from those of white singers. The loss of sight has generally an appreciable effect on the voice, and as a rule one will find the intensely passionate character absent from the sing- ing of the blind. In listening to many blind soloists who had received most careful and thorough musical training, the writer was impressed with the colorless, or rather monochromatic character of it all. Sweet- ness and pathos were there, and variations of dynamic power, but there was also a simple melancholy and dreamy tranquillity that was inexpressibly touching even while so uniform ^ It may be objected to the 276 THE EEALH OF MUSIC. above, that the observer may have allowed an un- controllable sympathy with the affliction of the sing- ers to have caste a shadow over their musical work, but at all events, a strong effort was made to observe closely and to institute comparison, and the state- ment that there is a distinguishable quality in the singing of the blind, may be accepted as generally true. It is not intended to make of this article anything more than a pioneer statement in a field that has hitherto been unexplored. In the many relations which music is unfolding towards general health, everything connected with the physiology of the art becomes not only interesting but important. A classification of the different species of voices, together with the countries and races where they are most generally found, would undoubtedly be a help to the operatic manager, who would then know exactly where to steer his bark to find a Soprano sfogato, or a Basso Prof undo, but it would also be something more serious and valuable than that, and might throw some interesting light on the origin of vocal music. WEAK TRANSLATIONS. Yocal music in America siifters in a very great degree because publishers of music pay little atten- tion to the important matter of having their editions of foreign songs well translated. Not one translation in a thousand can equal the effect of any poem in its original language, and this too when the translation is made by the most careful of poets and is unattached to music. AYhen a poem is attached to music its words become more than ever important in their arrangement, and subtlety of use. A translation of a song can only be made by one who is poet and musician combined. The carelessness with which pulffishers take up this branch of their work, proves that they know nothing of its importance. Every word, in a dramatic musical phrase, has its appropriate accent, carefully calcu- lated by the composer. Let us take but a few ex- amples : Schumann has set the line “Du bist Avie eiiie Blume” ( 277 ) 278 THE REALM OF MUSIC. in which a gentle' stress is laid upon the last word and the phrase can only be represented by “Thou art like a flower” but the exigencies of metre step in and we are obliged to put it “Thou’rt like unto a flower” in which an inflated style takes the place of the directness of the German, because of the interpo- lated syllable contained in the word ‘‘unto.” Other translators take the other horn of the dilemma, and transpose the line into “A flower thou resemblest” which is a perfect example of the carelessness with which this species of rhymesters treat the composer’s intention, for now the beautiful stress laid upon the word “flow^er” is given in a meaningless manner, to “resemblest.” Let the musical readers look through translations of dramatic songs, such as Schumann’s “Two Grenadiers,” and really dramatic operas, such as Wagner’s “Mastersingers,” or “Lohengrin,” or Beethoven’s “Fidelio,” in their English dress, and he will find hundreds of places where the composer’s most beautiful effects have been sacrificed to the exi- gencies of pouring the sparkling thought from one language into another. WEAK TBANSLA TIONS. 279 In such an arrangement of translations, we are considering only the l)est, but even in the very l)est hands i)erfect translation is generally an impossibil- ity. We make a great outcry about the sin of transposing a song from its original key, for we rightly sui)pose that the composer had a definite key in his mind when creating the work, and that the pitch was an important part of his intention, but langilage and the position of musical accents in their relations to syllaldes and words, is far more impor- tant than pitch (or tessitura) can ever be. If we accept translated makeshifts they can only be pro- duced 1)}' the collaboration of musician and poet ; a Seidl and an Aldrich, together, might translate “Parsifal” but it would still lose something, and a great deal, in the process. It must l)e remembered also, that certain works belong to the spirit of a lan- guage and country, and the best translated “Car- men” would seem unnecessarily coarse. Of the horrors of translations of the poorer class we need not speak at length ; the reader needs only to study the language, supposed to be English, of the opera librettos. The writer of this article has a unique collection of ludicrous errors made by the poetasters in translation, in which “Buchenhallen” (groves of beeches) is turned into “Halls of Boohs and “Fern von mir ist Minne ! !” (Love is far from 280 THE REALM OF MUSIC. me) becomes “Far away is Minnie! T “Oh bitt’ euch liebe Magdelein” (I beg you, loved Maidens) be- comes “I beg you dearest Magdalene while Brahms’ noble “Wie bist du meine Konigin*’ is metamor- phosed into “How dost thou hire, my beauteous queen ?!” the translator evidently believing that the title meant a sort of “How do }mu do?” If the reader will take the trouble to examine the English version of the glorious “Erl King” in Pauer’s celebrated edition of Schubert's songs ( Aug- ener & Co., London) he will find an example of the careless manner in which many translations are made . Xot only are the phrases of music which Schubert in- tended for the sufiering child put in the mouth of the parent^ (and ^’^ce versa,) but in one stanza the Erl King’s daughters stand “ in the rain,” while, in the next lines, the willows ‘fiance to the moon! ” a me- teorological phenomenon that deserves the attention of scientists, as being the most rapid change of wea- ther on record I But such works should teach us a lesson. VTe have no right thus to tamper with art works. Eveiy reputable publishing house should either furnish worth}" translations, or give such songs as the above without any English whatever. A few more of the abominable translations whose name is already le- gion, and musicians will become converted to the WEAK TRANSLATIONS. advisability of keeping all vocal masterpieces in their original tongue. WAGNER AND HIS ENEMIES. Rowbotham’s recent absurd attack upon Wagner must fall by its own weio:ht, and we are glad to see that no great efforts are being made to reply to it. Yet there is one wretchedly false statement which may be disposed of in a few lines. It is the untruth that the Wagner’s theories had their origin in pique and failure. Had the earlier operas succeeded, the later A^ein of composition would not have been evolved, says (in substance), the historian. Let us produce the evidence which proves the falsity of this. Wagner's first great opera “Rienzi” was built in the Italian school, and won a great success at Dres- den. Instead of following this success up, Wagner composed a work in a totally different vein — “Tann- hauser” — and w hen this disappointed his audiences he was not forced back into the school in which assured success lay before him, but departed yet further from the accepted models by composing “Lohengrin.” ( 282 ) WAG NEB AND HIS ENEMIES. 283 That his theories were close to his heart and very hon- est is shown still more by the fact that he composed a work in honor of his wife’s birthday, in which he celebrated the happy childhood of their son, in Switzerland. This piece was not intended for the world, it was a present from a loving husband to a devoted wife, — and it is filled with the Jelt-motiven, the free modulations, and the deviations from form, which characterize all Wagner’s later works. The Siegfried-Idylle is the surest answer to those critics who think that Wagner’s reforms were not entirely honest, and wholly believed in by their originator. It is difficult to disassociate Wagner as a man from Wagner as an artist, yet there was a great difference between the two. The former was illiberal, arbitrary, unjust and ineffably conceited ; the latter was profound, consistent, honest, and lofty in motive. Wagner’s sneers at Berlioz, at Brahms, and even at his friend Liszt prove the first of these characters, but fortunately for his memory, the other side is equally susceptible of proof. When art was con- cerned Wagner permitted neither trifling nor com- promise. Thus when in 1861 “Tannhauser” was produced at Paris ordre^'' and Napoleon III had the opera mounted on a scale of unparalleled magnifi- cence, Wagner persistently refused to add a ballet to the work although he knew that his refusal meant a 284 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. fiasco for the opera. More than this ; as the overture did not represent his theories justly, he altered this (the most popular part of the work) into a prelude, causing it to lead directly into the opera, and sacrific- ing thereby the very effective passage of trombones and strings (the Pilgrim’s Chorus ) because it seemed out of line with his artistic views. Grandest of all, when he grew into the construction of his Trilogy ^ he saw that it was to be a life work such as few men could hope to complete, and when completed it was entirely improbable that any one would ever publish or perform it, yet the voice of art did not call in vain, and his words to a friend, on this subject, are the loftiest ever spoken by a composer: “If I live to end it I shall have lived gloriously ; if I die I shall have died for something beautiful.” What terrific occasions those attempts at perform- ances of “Tannhauser” in Paris must have been! The Jockey Club had made up their minds that their pets of the ballet should not be relegated to ob- livion even temporarily for the sake of this obstinate composer; Felicien David had been hurt because one of his operas had been postponed to make way for the production of this foreigner, and all his friends organized a clique against the work ; the Parisian critics were against the sumptuous production as un- just to native art. Never was such a cabal founded, WAGNER AND HIS ENEMIES. 285 so widespread and so virulent. The performances took place amid the howls, hisses and whistling of an excited mob. There were some present who really admired the music, and a few who wished to give the foreigner a fair hearing ; but these were in the minority, and were in same cases grossly maltreated. Some twenty duels grew out of the performances, and there were fisticuft* fights within the opera house. At last Napoleon, and Princess Metternich who had induced the emperor to undertake the perform- ances, gave up the fight and what promised to be the greatest performance of “Tannhauser” that the world had ever seen came to an untimely end and was not attempted again in the French metropolis. Paris has not infrequently been the abode of artis- tic rioting or of rioting about artistic matters. When the Gluck and Piccini factions existed in the last century, lampoon and satire were not the only weapons with which the partizans fought. Many duels and street brawls occurred. It was the expiring agony of the old Italian opera, the sdiool which was vox et prceterea nil., which placed musie above poetry, and cared nothing for the dramatic unities. The final struggle came when ‘Tphigenia in Taurus” was set both by Gluck and Piccini. The victory was overwhelmingly with the dramatic school as represented by the former, and then 2i jeu d' esprit 286 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. finished the matter, for the prima donna who appeared in Piccini’s version indulged too freely on the evening of the preformance , and a wit cried out : “This is not Iphigenia in Taurus, it is Iphigenia in liquor !” and the defeat was complete. Musical rioting in Paris occurred only a few years ago when a mob forbade the performance of “Lohengrin*’ at the Eden Theatre. M. Lamoureux told the writer of this, recently: “It is very singular! I may place Wagner’s music as much as I please on my concert programs, and the public will even applaud it, but the moment I give it in costume and on the stage it becomes dangerous ! C^est drcAeP from which it appears that musical mobs like all others, are un- reasoning monsters. Since that time however “Lohengrin” has been given in the French metropolis, and the hatred which once was exhibited against Wagner, the man, is now disappearing in a recognition of the grandeur of the composer and his works. COMPOSERS’ THOUGHTS. The question frequently arises as to whether it is quite right to use orchestral arrangements of piano or violin Avorks, Avhen so many real orchestral com- positions remain unheard. Raff’s arrangement of Bach’s Chaconne, Muller-Berghaus' arrangement of Liszt’s Polonaises, and many other similar orchestral transcriptions, sin chiefly in the fact that they are so brilliant that they throw the original work in the shade. Yet we should Avish to see this branch of our art pushed still further. Beethoven’s later piano works suggest orchestral thoughts at every turn, and Ave believe that there may yet arise some reverent master who will disclose the beauties which are but half revealed in them, for at present they are like ancient gems, valuable and beautiful in their manner, but which the modern lapidary may cut in a way that shall bring forth their latent fire. The Opus 106 — the great sonata for piano — Avould work grandly in an orchestral guise. The later string quartets, which seem at present to strive to express thoughts ( 287 ) 288 THE BEAL 31 OF AlUSIC. too vast for any four instruments, could be made wonderfully resplendent. But how the critics will attack the master who first dares to attempt this transformation ! There are those to whom a false note by a recognized master is more precious than the best success achieved by any one else. It is well known that almost all of Beethoven’s musical ideas came to him in an orchestral guise. He himself has confessed this. Similarly, every great composer has some distinct vein of musical imagina- tion which allies itself more or less closely to some musical instrument or instruments. Schumann’s thoughts, because of the early part of his musical life, were almost always piano phrases. Even in his symphonies there are many passages which suggest the percussive style of this instrument, and which are very satishictorily transcribed for it. Chopin’s works present the same peculiarity, and the orchestral part of his two concertos is by no means remarkably orchestral, nor is it perfectly united to the solo pas- sages. In his few songs also (they are posthumous works) one finds the voice attempting to do pretty much what the fingers accomplish in his nocturnes and waltzes. With Schubert everything was song ; his chamber music sings, his piano works sing, and even the themes of his symphonies are generally song themes. These are not faults in one sense, but they COMPOSEBS' THOUGHTS. 289 may serve, at times, as guides to those who seek to make such transcriptions or arrangements as have l)een alluded to above and may serve to palliate the “ crime” of such arrangements. OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM. In Europe they have about decided that “Hail Columbia” is the National tune of America. When Edison entered the Grand Opera House in Paris recently, the band played this as the most fitting American air, and in the French Exposition as well as in Germany the tune has been similarly honored. This is quite as it should be, for “Yankee Doodle” (besides of being of English origin) is not dignified enough for a National anthem. “America ” is entirely British in its musical part, and the “Star-spangled Banner” was at first but an English drinking song. The last-named melody went through many odd phases ; it was a great favorite in England in the last century, and even in the beginning of this cen- tury it was so popular that Braham, the great tenor, made it one of the regular pieces of his repertoire. The words were bombastic enough^ — they ran ; To Anacreon in Heaven, where he sat in full glee, A few sons of Harmony sent a petition, ( 290 ) OUB NATIONAL ANTHEM. 291 That lie their inspirer and patron would be When this answer arrived from the jolly old Grecian, Voice, fiddle and flute No longer be mute. I’ll lend you my name, and inspire you, to boot. And besides I’ll instruct you, like me to entwine. The myrtle of Venus, with Bacchus’s vine. There are six verses, in which eTove endeavors to stop the impetuous god, and Apollo and his “nine fusty maids,” stand up for him, Avhile Momus and all the rest of the mythology appear. In 1802 the Free Masons made use of the tune and changed it to a charitable ditty, in aid of the Mason’s Orphan Asylum. The words Avere changed by Brother Connel to apply to Hiram A biff, the supposed architect of the temple at Jerusalem, and then began as follows : To old Hiram in Heaven, where he sat in full glee, A feAv brother Masons sent up a petition That he their inspirer and patron would be. To help Mason’s orphans and mend their condition. All this took place long Ijefore Key had written the Avords Avhich made the tune our own also. On the other hand both the march tune which became the melody of “Hail Columbia” and the words of the anthem are American in origin, and it is quite fitting that this should be, for the present, our 292 THE BEALM OF 3IUSIC. National tune. Yet it is not to be ranked, in artistic worth, with the national tunes of England, France, Germany, or Austria, and the need of the hour is a great American National Anthem, which shall be native in both its words and melody, and which shall be worthy of the vast and free nation it represents. MUSICAL CONDUCTORS. Ever since the art of music was cultivated among men, it has been found necessary, in all concerted work, to give the task of preserving the rhythm and keeping the different performers in unity to a person especially selected for the duty. Among the ancient Egyptians, the leader kept the musicians in proper tempo by clapping his hands,* among the ancient Greeks, by stamping with a heavy leaden shoe which was worn on the right foot ; among the old Italians, by rapping with a stick against a music-rack or desk ; among the moderns, by swinging a baton. We do not propose in this article to give an essay on the technique of conducting, but merely to notice a few of the historical facts connected with musical leadership. In England, until the present century, the art of conducting, as we now understand it, wsls * The Scriptural allusions to “clapping* of hands ’’were in- spired by this kind of conducting. ( 293 ) 294 THE BEAL3I OF MUSIC. not used. It was customary there, as in Germany, for the chief musician, often the composer of the work, to sit at a piano or organ with the score before him, and put in a few chords or play a passage when the orchestra were in danger of going astray in any manner ; and sometimes he would play the first phrases of the different numbers with the musicians, that they might seize the proper tempo . The leading violinist often used the stand-rapping process, as in Italy. . Handel often conducted his works from the organ, giving the proper tempi, and guiding the or- chestra by his performance rather than in any other manner. It is a strange fact that few of the great composers have been great conductors. Beethoven, even before he became deaf, was unreliable. The music often excited him so that he forgot the mechan- ical part of the duties of the conductor. Schumann, although he held many prominent positions of this class, was also variable; but this was probably due to the mental disease which was preying upon him. In his later years, when this malady had made great progress, it was noticeable that he always took the allegro movements too sIoav. His mind was no longer able to follow at the rapid pace necessary, and he became confused A\dien listening to any quick music. His attitude at the conductor’s stand A\^as peculiar. He seemed preoccupied, and his lips Avere pursed to- MUSICAL CONDUCTORS. 295 getlier as if he were whistling the themes softly to liimself. Mendelssohn, on the contrary, was an ex- cellent conductor, and seemed always aide to grasp the composer’s thought and convey it to his musi- cians. Schubert was very impracticable as a conductor, and this quality kept him from ever attaining any position of importance. It is stated that he once forfeited the chance of attaining a lucrative post l)y composing an aria for a favorite Viennese prima donna, and orchestrating it so heavily that the poor lady’s voice was scarcely able to make itself heard above the din. At the rehearsal, when it was evi- dent that the attempt was a failure, and the singer, bursting into tears, pleaded for the necessary altera- tions, it is said that Schubert refused point-blank to alter even a single note, and left the opera-house in great anger. It may also be stated, en passant., that Schu1)ert was unable to perform the more diffi- cult of his own piano music, and once, after vainly essaying to interpret his Fantasie (op. 15), sprang up hastily from the instrument shouting that the stuff was unperformable (“Das Zeug- mag der Teufel spielen ! ”) . Many eminent conductors were able to lead diffi- cult compositions in early youth. Mendelssohn, * It must be added, however, that recent commentators throw some doubt upon this anecdote. 296 THE BEALM OF MUSIO. when a mere boy, was in the habit of conducting works which were performed at his own home. Schumann, when ten years of age, formed an orches- tra in the little town of Zwickau, which he led, and for which he even composed little concerted pieces. Sir Michael Costa was sent by Zingarelli (from Na- ples) to conduct the Birmingham Festival in 1829'. The committee were dismayed when they saw the beardless youth who was to lead the great chorus and orchestra ; and spite of his assurances that he knew every note of the score, they declined even to give him a hearing. Laporte, of the King’s Theatre, Haymarket, London, soon afterward engaged him ; but, on introducing the new conductor to his musi- cians, the latter burst into laughter, and the next day they sent him some miniature razors, with a satirical request tliM he should practice with them. He kept these for many years as a souvenir of his early conducting. Wagner is said to have had a similar experience with an orchestra which he led in his youthful days. He was to conduct a Beethoven symphony, and came without a score, trusting to his memory. The musicians smiled at what they con- sidered affectation. ^Thereupon, the young leader offered to fill in twenty bars in any portion of any of the instrumental parts, and by succeeding in this test convinced the musicians that he had not overrated MUSICAL C 0 ND UC TOJi S. 21)7 his own powers. The Jirt of condncting from mem- ory has of late become a very mncli practiced though not very important one. Yon Billow has carried this to the very utmost. The performance of even the best of the old or- chestras would seem rather slovenly to modern ears, for the perfection of modern })laying was unknown even seventy live years ago. At times a great orches- tra was collected, as upon the occasion of the per- formance of Beethoven’s ninth symphony under the composer, in which every musician was a celebrity, but even here the lack of rehearsals prevented any perfection of ensemble. If the end of the last cen- tury and the beginning of this may be called the golden period of composition, at least we may aspire at present to the possession of an equally brilliant epoch of execution. The conductor need not be a great, or even a good performer on any instrument. One of the greatest of composers and conductors the world ever has seen. Bichard Wagner, was not proficient on any in- strument. The conductor need not understand the clarinette or oboe, for example, better, or as well as the clarinettist or the oboist, but he must understand the effect intended to be reached better than either of these ; he must be the poet of the orchestra, and must play on the orchestra, precisely as the organist 298 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. plays on the organ. It is not necessary that he should be a composer ; spite of the fact that some composers have been famous as conductors, the com- poser is apt to become wedded to some particular school and to be but a poor conductor of any other genre. The greatest living conductor, Hans Richter, determined to give up composition when he entered on his career as a conductor, and without having a low opinion of his creative talent, we must hold the deci- sion to have been a wise one, for the interpretative faculty would have conflicted with the creative. The conductor of the modern orchestra has a manifold task. First of all comes the technical drill, which is the most wearing of all. The ruling of a band of sensitive musicians is in itself not an easy matter. To repress an enthusiastic cellist and cause him to subordinate his phrases to a viola passage which he considers of minor importance, or to sub- due an over-zealous trombonist, is not a trifling thing to do. But before even this is done the conductor’s work has begun, and he has carefully studied the score that he may have a clear idea of what he in- tends to do. There is generally an antagonism between the strict conductor and his men, the former desiring too much rehearsal, the latter too little. The discipline of an orchestra should be as rigid as that of a military company, and the distinctions of rank MUSICAL COKDUCTOBS. 299 are almost as fixed ; it is a matter of infinite impor- tance to the nmsician A\^hether he sits in the first row or the second, or at the fifth desk or the tenth. The ideal conductor must not only feel the emotion of a work, hut he must he aide to express it to his men, hy words at rehearsal, hy gesture at the con- cert. The heating of the time is very important, as an indecisive heat will cause the attacks to he irregular. Many composers sin in this respect and cannot con- duct their own works with nearly as good results as are achieved hy the trained conductor. The signal- ing of the different entrances of the instruments is another task of the conductor ; if the kettle drums have had fifty-seven measures rest, they should count them and know exactly when they are to resume playing, hut, as a matter of fact, they often rest with calm tranquillity on the shoulders of the conductor, and rely on him to give them the signal to play the first note of their phrase. These are a few of the chief duties of a modern orchestral conductor ; to those who imagine that to shake a stick rhythmically over an orchestra is to lead it, they may seem exaggerated, hut they are rather under than over-stated. Meanwhile, when one sees a gentleman in the rural districts, swelling with importance because he is shaking the stick in question, and determined to get six entire shakes 300 THE EEALM OF MUSIC. into each measure of a 6-8 Presto movement, or die, we can hut recall the term applied to these ague-con- ductors in Europe ; they call them “Metronomes !” THE SIZE OF THE MODERN ORCHESTRA. It is a fact greatly to be deplored that, outside of New York, grand opera is generally presented in American cities with an orchestral accompaniment of about half the power and musical force which the composer desired, and this is a serious affair in the case of Wagner, for he knew dehnitely exactly the the effect he desired to produce , and never was led to indulge in mere sensational devices with his orches- tra. Wagner is, by the ignorant, credited with pil- ing Ossa upon Pelion in the matter of orchestration. One may exclaim with Prince Hal, — “Mark now how plain a tale shall put you down.” When AYag- ner returned from his banishment in Switzerland, he had practically all Germany at his feet. Liszt was working for him everywhere. King Louis gave him almost carte hlanclte in the foundation of his opera house and his orchestra, gifts of money were pouring in from all Germany and even from foreign lands. ( 301 ) 302 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Under these circumstances what did Wagner do? Did he instantly demand a regiment of trombones and a host of trumpeters ? Did he at once swell his orchestra to the size of a small army ? Xot at all ; he carefully marked upon his scores, in order that later conductors might not go astray, a demand that the great operas composing the Trilogy might have an orchestra varying in different parts from 106 to 118 men, and gave details as to the number to be used in each department. He had careful 1}^ studied out the orchestral problem, and it would have been a mistake to increase or decrease the forces from the master’s ideal. How different is the picture presented by that other tone colorist — Berlioz ! When he re- ceived a commission from the French Government for a Te Deum, he could scarcely bring together forces enough in all Paris, to satisfy his Gargantuan appetite, and this appetite seemed to grow by what it fed on; in such works as the “Damnation of Faust” we find him modestly demanding ten harps, yet by no means attaining the effect that Wagner reaches with fewer, in “ Die Meistersinger.” In the same work we find the composer asking for seven bassoons, while in the “March to Execution” in the Syinphonie Fantastique he produced a better effect with two. Xo ! it was Berlioz, and not Wagner, who loved to give music at wholesale ; the criticism THE SIZE OF THE MODERN ORCHESTRA. 303 has been delivered at the wrong address ; the Ger- man composer Avas a cordial enemy of the practice. Yet Berlioz often produced splendid effects, min- gled in with his sensationalism. In his Eequiem for example, he aimed at picturing, in the “Dies Irre,” the downfall of a world, in tones, and he succeeded reasonably well. Here one can forgive the tumult of the horde of instrumentalists, for the end attained, justified the means. Sixteen tenor trombones, and a like number of kettledrums, are but an indication of how heavily the other parts are scored. Here the wonderful crescendo of the drums in harmonies, and the endless fanfare of trumpets prove that even a noise, if AA^ell scored, can become thrilling. But, as if to shoAV the erratic and unreliable character of his search after tonal effects, the combination of pedal tones of bass trombone, with the highest notes of the piccolo, in the same work, is a distinct and absolute failure. To catalogue the brilliant tone effects which Berlioz has produced would at once shoAV the man a genius, but he was caught in the net of sensational- ism, and more frequently asked himself regarding each orchestral device — “Is it new?” — than “Is it beautiful?” POETICAL MUSIC INSTRUC- TION. The ancient study of music was frequently enliv- ened by having the most important precepts laid down in rhyme. The old song books, for example, had encouraging verses for the student, as follows : “Ye little boys and maidens sweet, We want your voices clear and neat. Your study to the Discant bring, The only part that you should sing.” But in this utilitarian school of poetry, the instru- mental student was not forgotten. The writer of this volume has in his possession a copy of Playford’s rare “Introduction to the Skill of Musick,” in which many of the rules of the art are laid down in very jingly doggerel. Here, for example, are the prelim- inary laws as given in 1662 : POETICAL MUSICAL INSTBUCTiON. 305 “To attain the skill of Musick’s art Learn Gam-ut up and down by heart. Thereby to learn your rules and spaces Notes’ names are known, knowning their places.” To impress this still more vividly upon the student, the following hazy stanza is added : “No man can sing true at first sight Unless he names his notes aright. Which soon is learnt if that your mi You know its place where e’er it be.” Then follow some remarkable rules by which it is evidently supposed that these notes can be memorized, although to us they seem to make “confusion worse confounded,” Here are a few choice texts : “If that no fiat be set in B, Then in that place standeth your Mi? But if your B alone be fiat, Then E is Mi, be sure of that ! ” The following rule is intelligible enough : “The first three notes above your Mi Are Fa, Sol, La, here you may see ! ” The last of these poetic rules describe the octaves very quaintly : “If you’ll sing true without all blame, You ’ll call all eights by the same name.” 306 THE REALM OF MUSIC. But amid the poetical effusions there are also many practical points given. In regard to the study of the violin, the author broaches the idea that frets should be attached to the finger-board until the student’s ear has been somewhat trained. How many a false note and terrible disso- nance would be avoided by such a proceeding ! The Viol di Gamba had permanent frets ; why should not the violin have them at least temporarily in the interest of suffering teachers ? MUSICAL RESEMBLANCES. Solomon’s remark that “there is no new thing un- der the sun ” is quite as applicable to music as to any other branch of art or science. It is almost impos- sible to avoid treading in the footprints of our predecessors when composing some very simple and singable phrase. The fact that the gentle “Annie Eooney” approaches Brunnhilde, or that the “Poor Jonathan ” fraternizes with Beckmesser in his open- ing phrase, by no means proves the narrowness of music, for treatment means far more than mere melodic construction, a fact which Wagner has sufficiently im- pressed upon the true musician. It is unfortunate that these resemblances frequently lead to disputes regarding the origin of some of the most famous of melodies. There is no simple melody, in conjunct movement, but that it bears sufficient resemblance to some other tune to start the cry of plagiarism. Thus the English ( 307 ) THE BEALM OF MUSIC. national anthem which was in all probability the original thought of Henry Carey, has been traced to Dr. John Bull, to an old German melody, and to half a dozen other sources. There is quite as much reason to charge Beethoven with plagiarizing the chief theme of the last movement of his ninth sym- phony from “Yankee Doodle,” to which it bears great resemblance. Some of the famous resemblances are startling enough. The famous hymn “Sun of my Soul” is not very far off from the heterodox “ Se vuol ballare ” of “Figaro’s Marriage.” The march in a famous Lacbner Suite and the march in Kaff’s “Lenore Symphony” are rather more than cousins. Mendelssohn’s first draft of “O rest in the Lord” was an unconscious plagiarism from “Auld Kobin Gray” and the resemblance can even now be noted in a careful comparison of these tunes. Jensen’s “Mur- muring Breeze” is not very far (in its beginning) from Bach’s “My heart ever faithful.” These are all accidental resemblances, but the list of intentional plagiarisms, is not much smaller. The gentle German “O Tannenbaum,” a song of fidelity and truth, became a war song under the title of “Maryland, my Maryland;” the old Scotch song “Jock o’ Hazeldean ” became metamorphosed into “Willie, we have missed you ; ’’the fiery punch-song “Crambambuli ” has turned into the mild “O come. MUSICAL RESEMBLANCES. 309 come away a wild highland Strathspey became first “Oft in the stilly night” and afterwards “Near- er, my God, to Thee in short, the list of musical plagiarisms is endless, although the last example cited comes rather under the head of resemblances than plagiarisms. The amateur who thinks that such in- stances prove the poverty of melody is again reminded that it is treatment rather than mere tune which is the glory of our present musical system, and may find consolation in the fact that good old Handel stole tunes right and left, but gave them such counterpoint that the original owners did not dare to elaim their property, and when Bach gave the the glorious con- trapuntal treatment to Hassler’s love-song “My mind is all distracted ” he did more than invent a new mel- ody, he gave eternal life to an old one, under the title of “O Sacred head now wounded.” TALENT AND GENIUS. It has become the fashion in these days to contin- ually decry talent, and to seek for nothing less than genius, in the world of musical art, particularly in its creative branch. Webster defines genius as “dis- tinguished mental superiority ; uncommon intellectual power ; especially superior power of invention or origination of any kind or of forming nice combina- tions,” while talent is set down as “intellectual ability, natural or acquired ; mental endowments or capacity ; skill in accomplishing.” These definitions yet fail to dwell on the chief point of difference between the two gifts ; Genius originates, while Talent imitates. Talent makes the best of things that exist, while genius seeks out new paths. Granting all this, there is yet a time when talent may serve the world in excellent stead. There are some musical talents which have done as much service to art as geniuses. Mattheson, the compan- ( 310 ) TALENT AND GENIUS. :’)M ion of ILindel, was ccrtaiiily not a genius as Ifis friend most eertainly was, yet his earefid analysis of the musie of his day has given the most vahial)le material to the historian, and has made many points elear that would have remained obseure without his painstaking classification. Among the sons of the great Bach was one genius and one talent. The gen- ius, Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, dispersed many of his father’s compositions, defied the changing spirit of the times, clung to the contrapuntal styles, which he used in new combinations, and exerted no influ- ence ; the talent, Philip Emanuel Bach, noted the trend of events, carefully elaborated a system of technique made necessary by the changes of the pi- ano, compiled a catalogue of many of his father’s compositions, and was in fact the connecting link between the old style and the new. Of course these are exceptional cases, but they are cited to show that at times talent can be of , greatest value to progress. Generally we owe the advance- ment of art to genius, but there are times when art seems retrograding, and then the conservative nature of talent prevents a lapse. Conservatism, which is the predominant characteristic of talent, is often a most valuable counterweight to that radicalism which is the attribute of genius. Genius may break the path, but talent smooths it. Genius plunges into 312 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. the new, while talent makes clear the good that is in the old. Today we have genius discarding much of musical form, while talent is forming a good bulwark against its overthrow by using the classical shapes in a manner that shows that they are not threadbare by any means yet. And talent forever remains the chief impediment in the path of pseudo-genius, that bale- ful element which imagines good in every new thing. If it is at times the opponent of genius, it ends by be- coming its follower, and talent ever remains the interpreter of genius. It is a higher compliment than men may imagine, to say of a composer, “He is not a genius, but certainly a talent.” AT THE DEDICATION OF A MUSIC HALL. O Art Divine, behold thy new-made dwelling ! Descend upon the altar which we raise ! While unto thee our homages are welling, While in thine own pure tones is proudly swelling Our song of praise. Now for the first time are the echoes blending Here where hereafter they shall have their home. From past to future, music’s greeting sending; For they shall sound in cadence never-ending Through years to come. Here shall resound the clang of happy singing. As thy disciples gather round thy throne ; And, while the chorus in its might is ringing. The listening soul from earth to heaven is swinging On wings of tone. And, at the hour of prayer, the organ, pealing. Shall sound religion’s messages abroad, And bid “ Be still” to every earthly feeling, While each rapt heart finds every tone re vealing A path to God. ( 313 ) 314 THE BEALM OF MUSIC. Peace on these portals evermore shall hover ; Where Music dwells, unrest can never be ; A purer sphere the seeker shall discover, Where strife and pain and worldliness are over, Because of thee. Eeceive thy temple ! Live in it forever. And till it with thy harmony divine ; And, until fate the mortal harpstring sever, Let all our task and holiest endeavor Be wholly thine. THE END.