A Popular History of the Art of Music / From the Earliest Times Until the Present

The greatest of Mendelssohn's works was "Elijah," which was produced at Birmingham, August 26, 1846. Staudigl, the famous baritone of Vienna, was Elijah. The work went extremely well at the first performance—better, Mendelssohn says, than any former work of his. The continual anxiety of producing the new work, the travel and the many responsibilities belonging to his position finally undermined his health, and at length, November 4, 1847, he died at Leipsic. It is doubtful whether any musician ever left a warmer or a more distinguished circle of friends than Mendelssohn. In all parts of the musical world his death was regarded as a calamity.

Fig. 86.

FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.

In "Elijah" and in the first part of "St. Paul" Mendelssohn made an addition to the world's stock of oratorios scarcely second to any other works, excepting Händel's "Messiah." "Elijah," in particular, had the advantage of an extremely dramatic and picturesque story, and a text well selected from the Scriptures. There are many moments in this work of rare and exquisite beauty. The choruses when contrapuntally developed, have themes somewhat too short, whereby the effect of the words is lost in the intermingling of voices coming in at later moments, but there are other parts of the work which are extremely beautiful. There is a lovely chorus, "He Watching over Israel," in which the gentle Mendelssohnian melody is accompanied by soft triplets in the strings, whereby a most delightfully light and spirituelle effect is produced. Near the end of the work there is a very graphic recitative to the words, "And One Cherub Cried to Another"; then a soprano voice with grand phrase sings "Holy, Holy Is God, the Lord," three other soprano voices joining in the last words. These are very lightly accompanied. Immediately thereupon, the entire chorus, orchestra and organ, with the utmost power, come in with the same melody, "Holy, Holy Is God, the Lord." This antiphon between the full chorus and the female quartette continues in varying style throughout the chorus, and the result is thrilling in the extreme. Extremely dramatic, also, is the great chorus "Thanks Be to God, for He Laveth the Thirsty Land." There are many solo numbers in the work, all of them remarkable for the care with which the text is treated, and the clearness with which the musical utterance expresses the words. The famous tenor song, "If with All Your Hearts Ye Truly Seek Him," the alto song, "Oh Rest in the Lord," the angel trio, "Lift Thine Eyes," the great soprano song, "Hear Ye Israel," and the bass aria, "It Is Enough," and especially the prayer of Elijah, "Lord God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel," are scarcely surpassed in the entire range of oratorio music. There is very remarkable instrumentation, also in the scenes on Mt. Carmel, and especially at the series of choruses where "God, the Lord, Passed By."

During his life, Mendelssohn was very highly esteemed as a composer of orchestral music, symphonies and overtures. While his works in this department contain many beauties, and are carried out with elegant clearness of form, and with that refinement and taste which characterized everything which Mendelssohn did, they have not maintained their reputation at the high level where it formerly stood. It was Mendelssohn's fortune to be one of the masters instrumental in introducing the romantic school; but upon principle and education he was classical in his taste and instincts, and while his works had a very important use in cultivating an appetite for novelty, whereby the other masters of the romantic school profited later, he went so short a distance in the new path that the march of events has since left him somewhat behind.

II.

If it were asked to name the two masters most representative of the nineteenth century, one could scarcely go amiss, the names of Robert Schumann and Richard Wagner immediately occurring. Robert Schumann (1810-1856), the son of a very intelligent book seller, was born at Zwickau, in Saxony, and was intended for the law. He received lessons in music at an early age, and his talent was unmistakable. When he was about eleven he accompanied a performance of Frederick Schneider's "Weltgericht." At home, with the aid of some musical companions he got up performances of musical compositions, and had a small orchestra. He entered at the Leipsic University as a student of law, but devoted the most of his time to playing the piano, and to reading Jean Paul, for whom he had a great fondness. He immediately attached himself to the musical circles, entering himself as a pupil with Wieck, the father of his future wife. A year later he transferred his attendance to the University of Heidelberg, attracted thither by the lectures of the famous teacher Thibaut, the same whose work upon the "Purity of Musical Art," had only recently been published. Here, as in Leipsic, his principal occupation was practicing upon the piano, which he did to the extent of six or seven hours a day. Notwithstanding his fondness for music, his mother was violently opposed to his entering the musical profession, and as his father was now dead, her wishes naturally had much weight. He had already commenced to write songs, quite a number of which belong to the year 1830, when he was living in Heidelberg.

He made a tour to the north of Italy, and heard the Italian musician Paganini, which fired him with so much ardor, that he immediately set himself to transcribe his Caprices for the piano, and to accomplish upon this instrument similar effects to those which Paganini produced upon the violin. At length, after much difficulty with his guardian and his mother, it was agreed that he might fit himself for a musician, so in 1830 he was back again in Leipsic studying diligently with Master Wieck. In his ardor for great results in a short time, he undertook some kind of mechanical discipline for the fourth finger of his right hand, the effect of which was that the tendons became overstrained, the finger crippled, and for a long time he was utterly unable to use it in piano playing. In composition he now entered upon regular instruction with Heinrich Dorn, at that time conductor of the opera in Leipsic. Dorn recognized the greatness of Schumann's genius, and devoted himself with much interest to his improvement. In 1832 a symphony of his was produced in Zwickau, but apparently with little success, for the work was never heard of afterward. At this same concert Wieck's daughter, Clara, who was then thirteen years of age, appeared as a pianist, and Zwickau, Schumann says, "was fired with enthusiasm for the first time in its life." Already he was very much interested in the promising girl, and expresses himself concerning her with much ardor. He seems to have been singularly slow in composition. At this time, 1833, he had written the first and third movements of the G minor sonata, had commenced the F minor sonata and completed the "Toccata," which had been begun four years before. He also arranged the second set of Paganini's caprices, Opus 10. He found a faithful friend in Frau Voigt, a pianist of sense and ability. Schumann usually passed his evenings in a restaurant in company with his friends, after the German fashion, but while the others talked he usually remained silent. Frau Voigt told W. Taubert that one lovely summer evening after making music with Schumann, they both felt inclined to go upon the water. They sat side by side in the boat for an hour in silence. At parting Schumann pressed her hand and said, "Good day, we have perfectly understood one another."

The immediate result of the musical associations of Schumann, in Leipsic, was the project for a musical journal, devoted to progress and sincerity. In opera Rossini was then the ruling force. At the piano Herz and Hünten; and musical journalism was represented by Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung, published by Breitkopf & Härtel, which praised almost everything, upon general principles. In 1834, the first number of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik saw the light. The editors were Robert Schumann, Friedrich Wieck, Ludwig Schunke and Julius Knorr. Schumann was the ruling power, and he proceeded to develop his literary faculty in a variety of forms. He writes under many pseudonyms, and has much to say about the "David league against the Philistines," a society existing in his imagination only. One of the famous early articles in this paper was that upon Chopin's variation "La ci Darem," greeting the work of the talented young Pole as a production of rare genius. Schumann himself thought so well of this article that he placed it at the beginning of his collected writings. It will be impossible within available limits to define the influence of this journal. During the ten years when Schumann was editor, many of the most important productions of the modern school first saw the light, and all come in for discussion, from a point of view at the same time sympathetic and intelligent.

As an example of the musical life at Leipsic in this time, Moscheles mentions an evening in 1835, when Mendelssohn conducted his first concert in the Gewandhaus; the day before this there had been a musical gathering at Wieck's, at which both Mendelssohn and Schumann were present, perhaps the first time that these two great geniuses were brought together. The next day Mendelssohn, Schumann, Moscheles and Banck dined together, and the next day there was music at Wieck's house—Moscheles, Clara Wieck and L. Rakemann from Bremen, playing Bach's D minor concerto for three pianos, Mendelssohn putting in the orchestral accompaniments on the fourth piano. With Mendelssohn he contracted quite an intimacy. In 1836 he found himself very much devoted to Clara Wieck, and in order to secure a more favorable opening for his career, resolved to transfer himself and the paper to Vienna, but after a year he returned again to Leipsic, and then the course of true love became more difficult, for Papa Wieck was resolutely opposed to the match; but after some months his consent was given, and they were married in 1840. During this year he had an extraordinary activity as a song writer. The "Woman's Love and Life," the "Poet's Love," and various other cycles of song, were all produced under the stress of his happy prospects with Clara. It is not easy to ascertain the order of his compositions, since, as we have already seen, the sonatas and some of the other works appearing late in the list of opus numbers were composed very early.

The romantic tendency is the most marked of all of Schumann's characteristics as a composer. He is above all others the composer of moods. His long pieces are invariably aggregates of shorter ones. The typical forms of Schumann's thought are two, and two only, the Song and the Fantasia. He made diligent efforts to master counterpoint and fugue, and manly attempts in these provinces can be found among his writings; but counterpoint and fugue remained to him a foreign language. The smoothness of Mendelssohn, the readiness of Bach, of Beethoven, or even Mozart, are impossible to him. On the other hand, when he follows his own inclination, he creates forms that are clear, concise and original. One scarcely knows which to admire more—the graphic correspondence of the music with the suggestive title placed at the head, or the original style of the music itself, which is entirely unlike anything by any former composer. His Opus 2 is a set called Papillons, "Butterflies," or "Scenes at a Ball," consisting of twelve short movements in different style, without explanatory titles. Some are fantastic, others are sentimental, all original and striking. The eleventh number of this is a short but magnificent polonaise in D major, an extremely spirited and beautiful movement which has since been very popular. The transcriptions of the Paganini caprices were undertaken as studies for the composer himself in the direction of unexplored pianoforte effects, but Schumann had also the intention of providing in music new discipline for piano students. In my opinion the technical value of these works has not yet been realized, and it is quite possible that a later generation may esteem them more highly than the present. However this may be, the practice of writing gave Schumann a greater freedom, the effect of which is seen upon the next set of pieces, the six Intermezzi. These, however, are vague and mystical, rather than clear. With the "David's League Dances" the Schumann nature appears more plainly. The style is freer, and these new combinations are very charming, although they must undoubtedly have been fatal stumbling blocks to the fingers of a pianist trained in Dussek and Hünten. "The Carnival," a series of fanciful scenes, belongs to an earlier period, having been composed in 1834 and 1835. The different numbers, of which there are twenty-one, are provided with explanatory titles, such as "Pierrot," "Harlequin," "Valse Noble," "Eusebius," "Chopin," etc. Of all the earlier works the Fantasy-Pieces, Opus 12, are the most successful. These eight pictures, "In the Evening," "Soaring," "Why," "Whims," "In the Night," "Fable," "Dreams," and "The End of the Song," or peroration, are extremely characteristic and beautiful, and it is not easy to assign the pre-eminence of one number over the others. Of the same general class, only upon a smaller scale, are the "Scenes from Childhood," Opus 15, of which there are thirteen little pieces, each with an explanatory title, such as "Playing Tag," "Happy Enough," "Dreams" (Traumerei). In this direction Schumann often composed at a later period of his life. There is the "Album for the Young," Opus 68, containing forty-three short pieces, all with titles; the twenty "Album Leaves," Opus 124, and the "Forest Scenes," with titles like "The Entrance," "The Hunter on the Lookout," "Solitary Flowers," "Prophetic Bird," "Hunting Song," etc.

Schumann's greatness as a composer for the pianoforte, both from a technical and poetic standpoint, is shown in such works as the "Études Symphoniques," the "Kreisleriana," and the concerto in A minor. The first of these works is regarded by many as the most satisfactory of any of this author's works. It consists of an air, nine variations and a finale which is in rondo form. The variations, however, are fantasies rather than variations, the theme itself appearing very little in any of them, and in some of them not at all. It would be impossible to find within the same compass a similar number of pages covering so wide a range of beautiful pianoforte effects, and highly suggestive and poetic music. In the fantasia in C, Schumann's fancy takes on a more serious mood. He treats the piano with great freedom, requiring of the player a powerful touch and much refinement of tone-color, as well as a style of technique which he himself has largely created. The second movement of this, the march tempo, represents Schumann's imagination in a forcible light in two directions—its bold, strong moods, and its deeply subjective, meditative activity. The "Kreisleriana" consists of eight fantasies named after an old schoolmaster near Leipsic, noted for his eccentricities. This work was coldly received when first produced, but later has become very popular. The best movements are the first and second, but the entire work is strong. The concerto in A minor is by no means a show piece for the piano, but an extremely vigorous and poetic improvisation, in which the solo and orchestral instruments answer each other, and work together in a furor of inspiration.

The entire art of modern piano playing is indebted to Schumann for some of its most impressive elements. He was fond of playing with the dampers raised, and might well contest the honor with Liszt of having originated the modern style of pedal legato as distinguished from the finger legato of Chopin and all the early writers. He seems to have discovered the touch which Mason called elastic; that made by shutting the hand and at the same allowing the wrist to remain flexible. In quite a number of his pieces this effect is very marked, as the first number of "Kreisleriana," the first of the "Night Pieces," and especially the fourth of these, where the chords are purposely spread beyond the octave, in order to necessitate their being struck with the finger and arm touch combined, in the same manner as that illustrated on a larger scale in the eleventh study of Chopin's, Opus 10. Indeed, if one were to attempt to characterize the Schumann technique by some one of its more prominent features, the free use of the arm would be, perhaps, the one best representing the depth and sonority of tone required for these effects. But while Schumann demands broad, deep, elastic tone color for the stronger moments in his work, there is no other writer so desirous as he of the soft, full, mysterious tone representing what he was fond of calling Innigkeit ("inwardness"). There are many minor mannerisms which have been diligently cultivated by later composers, the most prominent among them being perhaps what might be called the accompaniment upon the off beat. In many of his works Schumann occupies the middle ground of the piano with soft chords which are felt rather than heard, and which always come in upon the half beat or the quarter beat, and rarely or never upon the full accented part of a measure. The differentiation of the melody from its harmonic and rhythmic background is accomplished by this great master in a beautiful manner. Take for instance, the romanze in F sharp, Opus 28, No. 2. The melody of the first strophe of this exquisite music might have been written for Church. It is a duet for baritones, the voices being represented by the thumbs of the player. Against this melody in quarter notes and eighths, there is an accompaniment in sixteenths, covering two octaves and a third, the entire effect being soft and distant. In the second strophe the soprano voice takes the melody, which is supported by rare harmonies and a lovely figuration in the alto. The third strophe brings back again the principal subject, and a splendid climax is made, after which an elaborate coda concludes the work. It is impossible to play this lovely piece with good effect without the Schumann technique. Played with the Mozart technique it would be simply insipid, and with a Beethoven technique it would still be dry and harsh. It is only by the combination of the arm touch for the melody, the very obscure, unobtrusive finger touch for the accompaniment, and the constant use of the pedal for promoting blending of tones, that the vague and poetic atmosphere of this piece can be realized.

Schumann might also be credited with the invention of a new style of composition, or of music thinking. The element of canonic imitation occurs in his works in wholly new form. A single phrase or motive is repeated through nearly an entire movement, in a thousand different forms and transformations, so that the whole movement is made up from this single germ; and yet with such mastery of rhythm and of harmony as to conduct the thought to a powerful climax, without any impression of monotony interfering with it. One can hardly go amiss in the large works of Schumann for illustrations of this style of composition. Take, for example, the Novelette in B minor, Opus 99; the Novelette in E major, Opus 21, No. 7; the first of the "Kreisleriana," and many other parts of the same work. This style I have elsewhere called the "Thematic," as distinguished from the "Lyric," in which a flowing melody is a distinctive trait. Beethoven, in a number of cases, employs a style of thought development somewhat similar, but the results accomplished are tamer than with Schumann. One of the most striking examples is found in the finale of the sonata in D minor, Opus 31, No. 2, and in the first movement of the sonata in C minor, Opus 111. In this point of view Schumann appears as the predecessor of Wagner, who almost certainly took his departure for thematic work from Schumann.

If it were not for these numerous, highly poetic and masterly compositions for pianoforte solo, and for the chamber pieces, the symphonies and other large works, Schumann would have been entitled to a very eminent place among composers by his songs alone. These are as different as possible from those of previous writers, excepting Schubert, and the voice itself is not always well considered in them; but there are no other works in this department in which the poetic sentiment is so thoroughly reproduced in the music as Schumann has done it in his "Woman's Love and Life," and in "Poet's Love," and in many single songs of other sets, "The Spring Night" being a very marked example. If the future should chance to produce a race of poetic and intelligent singers, these songs will be found among the most effective which the whole literature of music can show. Some of them are already well and favorably known in all parts of the world.

The excellencies of Schumann as a song writer are only in part reproduced in his larger works in the form of cantatas, and in the opera of "Genoveva." He was without the technique of chorus construction, and writes injudiciously for voices in mass. His instrumentation, although graphically conceived, is not cleverly worked out, in consequence of which we find in such works as the "Pilgrimage of the Rose," "Paradise and the Peri," the "Faust" music, and the opera of "Genoveva," some extremely brilliant suggestions and contrasts, and occasionally fine moments, intermingled with many others which fail for want of technical skill in the use of the performing material.

The same restriction may be applied to the orchestral and chamber works, in spite of the inherent force and beauty of the ideas they contain. In the symphony, for example, he writes badly for the violins, the very soul of the orchestra. The phrases are short, staccato notes abound, and scarcely in an entire score have the violinists the long sustained phrases, where the singing power of this beautiful instrument appears. The best of the chamber pieces are those in which the piano is the principal instrument, especially the great quintette. This is a master work of a very high order, and while the strings do not have the consideration that belongs to them, the pianoforte is treated with so much freedom and power as in a great measure to compensate for this lack.

Of the Schumann works as a whole the most striking characteristic is the spontaneous, improvistic effect. Every Schumann piece—that is to say, every successful Schumann piece—has the character of an improvisation, in which the power and fancy of the composer are as marked as his deep tenderness and sentiment, fine instinct for poetic effect and a delicate ear for tone-color. For this reason the popular appreciation of the Schumann works upon a large scale is only a question of an educated generation. There are many indications of progress in this direction on the part of musical amateurs the world over. In Schumann's lifetime, and immediately after his death, the neglect of his compositions was extreme. Dr. Wm. Mason narrates that when he visited Leipsic in 1850, one of the first symphonies he heard was Schumann's in B flat, the first composition of this writer he had ever heard. The beauty and force of the work took complete possession of him. A new world of tone was opened to him. He dreamed of the Schumann symphony all night, and at early morning went down to Breitkopf & Härtel's to inquire whether this man Schumann had written anything for the piano. The salesman laid before him a few dusty compositions off the shelves. The young American asked, "Is that all?" More were produced. "Is that all?" he asked again, whereupon the salesman, discovering that he had a Schumann enthusiast to deal with, took advantage of the moment and in the cellar showed him whole editions of Schumann pianoforte pieces tied up in bundles, exactly as they had come from the printers. Liszt in some of his earlier concerts attempted to patronize the Schumann compositions. Their style, however, was so different from the sensationalism of his own pieces or the sentiment of Chopin, that the public failed to appreciate them, and the pianist dropped them. Nevertheless, there were reasons why Liszt ought to have played these works. The Schumann technique is not sensational, like that of Liszt, but it has with it one element in common, already referred to—the pedal legato—and no pianist of that time was so well prepared to recognize and interpret this element as Liszt if he had realized his opportunity.

Fig. 87.

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

In person Schumann was of medium height, inclining to corpulency, with a very soft and gentle walk and a most invincible habit of silence. Old residents of Leipsic remember his visits to the rehearsals at the Gewandhaus, where for a whole evening he would sit with his handkerchief held over his mouth, never speaking a word to any one from the beginning to the end, and going away as silently as he came. Nevertheless, it was universally recognized that upon these occasions Schumann heartily enjoyed himself, and to use his own words again, he and the music "perfectly understood one another." His mind was intensely active and fanciful. This is seen in all his pieces. The rapidity of the musical thought, the strong contrasts of mood, the proximity of remote chords and modulations, are all indications of this mental trait. It was this, also, which finally destroyed him. His mind became unbalanced, and after intermittent attacks of melancholy his life ended with two years' almost entire oblivion of reason. In spite of his comparative unpopularity in his own day, no one of the romantic masters has left so strong an impression upon the composers who came after him. In my opinion, the four great names which have been most operative in establishing forms of musical thought and in creating wholly original and highly poetic and masterly tone-poems by means of those forms, are Bach, Beethoven, Schumann and Wagner, and each one of the earlier masters has in his work the prophecy of most of the qualities of those who come after, while each of the later reflects the characteristic traits of his predecessors.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

HE strongest personality of the Italian composers (though by no means the loveliest), at the beginning of the nineteenth century, was that of Gasparo Spontini (1774-1851). He was born of peasant stock in the Roman states and educated at Naples, where his boyish successes were made. In 1803 he went to Paris, where he composed several operas with very poor success. Nevertheless, having full confidence in his own powers, he was not discouraged, and in 1804 his one-act opera of "Milton" was performed successfully at the Théatre Feydeau. He had already begun his "La Vestale," which was brought out in 1807, and immediately achieved a remarkable success. Spontini was appointed "Compositeur Particulaire" to the Empress Josephine, in spite of which an oratorio of his was hissed from the stage in Holy Week of the same year that his "Vestale" had been so favorably received. The popularity of "The Vestal" continued to grow, so that it had been performed more than 200 times in Paris before 1824. In Italy and Germany, where its career began, in 1811, its popularity was similar. His next opera was "Fernand Cortez," (1809), afterward materially improved. These two works mark the highest point reached by Spontini. They are brilliant, martial, vigorous and spectacular, and the legitimate predecessors of the Meyerbeer grand operas. Spontini's smaller works failed, and in 1819 negotiations were concluded with King William III, who had been impressed with "La Vestale" when he had visited Paris, whereby for twenty years Spontini was made "director general" of the opera in Berlin. In this position he produced a number of other works, the best being "Nurmahal" (1822), "Alcidor" (1825) and "Agnes von Hohenstaufen" (1829). Spontini was a vigorous director, but unprincipled, vain and narrow. Nevertheless, at his concerts he produced the fifth and seventh symphonies of Beethoven for the first time in Berlin, as well as parts of the great Bach mass in B minor, and much other great music. Opposition to his tyranny culminated in 1842 by his dismission from the directorship, Meyerbeer being his successor. His popularity paled from the production of Weber's "Der Freischütz" in 1821. Spontini died in his native town of Majolitat.

Fig. 88.

ROSSINI.

The Italian composer most famous in the earlier part of the century was Gioacchino Antonio Rossini (1792-1868), a native of Pesaro, a small town on the Adriatic. After a short course at the Conservatory of Verona, the boy commenced to compose, and no less than thirteen short pieces preceded his first really popular opera, "Tancredi," which was produced at La Fenice, in Venice, in 1813. The success of this work led to many others, among which the best known are "The Italian in Algiers," "The Turk in Italy," and (in 1816) no less than five operas in one year—"Torvaldo e Dorliska," "The Barber of Seville," "La Gazetta" and "Otello," his first serious opera. He composed with the utmost facility. "The Barber," one of the most successful operas ever performed, and the one of Rossini's works which bids fair to outlast the rest, was composed and mounted within a month. For this work he received eighty pounds sterling. It was not at first successful. In 1823 he brought out "Semiramide," which was only moderately successful at first. The next turn in Rossini's fortune found him in London, where he had accepted an engagement with the manager of King's Theater, and here he produced a number of his former works with moderate success. Rossini himself appeared upon the stage and sang the solos in a cantata which he had composed in honor of the King, George IV. He turned many honest pennies during his London engagement by acting as accompanist at private soirées for a fee of £50. At the end of five months he found himself in possession of £7,000, with which he made a graceful retreat to Paris, where he accepted the musical direction of the Théatre Italienne, at the salary of £800 per year. This was in 1826. After the expiration of his engagement at this theater several of his works were produced at the Grand Opera, among which were the "Siege of Corinth" and "Moise" (March 27, 1827). This work, which is given in England as an oratorio, was a revised edition of his opera of "Mose," which he had written for Naples five years before. The most taking number in it is the famous prayer, which has been played and sung in every form possible for a popular melody. The operatic career of Rossini ended in 1829 with the production of his opera of "William Tell," at the Paris Académie, with a brilliant cast. In this work he forswears florid writing, and makes a serious effort at dramatic characterization. The opera is extremely melodious, and a very great advance over any of his former productions. Having now accumulated a fortune, he retired from the stage and lived the remainder of his life near Paris in elegant leisure, composing a solemn mass and a few other sacred works, but no other operas.

In reviewing the career of this singularly gifted Italian melodist, it is impossible to resist the conclusion that his talents were worthy of a nobler development. Among his sacred works the "Stabat Mater" is the most popular. It contains some very beautiful chromatic writing, and is really an art work of distinguished merit. His latest work was the "Messe Solennelle" (1864). Rossini was fond of good living, very witty in conversation, and his house was frequented by the most brilliant wits and the best artists of the thirty years between "William Tell" and his death.

Upon the whole, the most brilliant master of Italian opera during this period was Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848), who was born at Bergamo and educated at Naples. His first opera was produced in Vienna in 1818, but his first complete success was "Anna Bolena," which was written for Milan in 1830, the principal parts having been taken by Pasta and Rubini. Soon after this followed "L'Elisir d'Amore" (1832), "Lucia di Lammermoor" (Naples, 1835), "Lucrezia Borgia" (1834), "Belisario" (1836), "Poliuto" (1838), "La Fille du Régiment" (1840), "La Favorita," "Linda di Chamounix" (1842), "Don Pasquale" (1843). Besides these well known works there were many others, the total number reaching sixty-three, brought out in various Italian theaters and in Paris. Donizetti's traits as a composer are pleasant melody, effective concerted pieces (as, for instance, the sextette in "Lucia," which is perhaps the best concerted piece in Italian opera), and a good constructive ability. Like Rossini he was a writer of florid music, and "Lucia" remains one of the favorite numbers of coloratura singers to the present day, which, considering that more than fifty years have intervened since it was composed, is a great compliment.

Vincenzo Bellini (1802-1835) was born at Catania, in Switzerland, the son of an organist. He was educated at Naples under Zingarelli, his first opera having been composed in 1826, while he was still a member of the Conservatory. It was "Bianca e Fernando," produced at San Carlos. His next work, "Il Pirata," was written for La Scala in Milan, the tenor part having been especially designed for the celebrated Rubini. Among the other successful operas of this composer were "I Capuletti e i Montecchi" (in 1830), "La Sonnambula" (1831, at La Scala), "Norma" and "I Puritani." It was this latter work which contains a brilliant duet for two basses, "Suona la Tromba," of which Rossini wrote from Paris to a friend at Milan, "It is unnecessary for me to write of the duet for two basses. You must have heard it." Bellini was essentially a melodist, a lyric composer of ideallic naiveté. Of dramatic power he had very little. His orchestration is simple, although frequently very sonorous. If he had lived to the age of Donizetti or of Rossini it is not impossible that much greater works would have emanated from his pen, for in his next great successor we have an example of such a growth under conditions less favorable than those promised in Bellini's case.

Fig. 89.

GIUSEPPE VERDI.

The most vigorous of all the Italian composers of this epoch is Giuseppe Verdi, who was born at Roncole, October 9, 1813, his father having been a small inn keeper. The boy was of a quiet, melancholy character, with one passion—music; and when he was seven years of age his father purchased a spinet for his practice. When he was ten years old he was appointed organist of the Church in his native town. At this time his necessary expenditures amounted to about $22 per year, and his salary as organist $7.20, which after many urgent appeals was increased to $8. In addition he had certain perquisites from weddings and funerals, amounting to about $10 per year. In this way he continued until he was sixteen, having by this time become conductor of a philharmonic society, and the composer of quite a number of works, at the little town of Dusseto. He went to Milan, where he was refused admission to the Conservatory on the ground of his showing no special aptitude for music. Nevertheless, he persevered in his chosen vocation, receiving lessons of Rolla, the conductor of La Scala. He studied diligently for two years, Mozart's "Don Giovanni" being a part of his daily exercise. After this he returned for five years to his country life, and by the time he was twenty-five he was back again in Milan, in the hope of securing the performance of his opera, "Oberto." This for quite a long time he was unable to do, but at length in 1839 it was performed at La Scala. The moderate success of this work secured him an engagement to produce an opera every eight months for Milan or Vienna. But his first work, a comic opera which the managers demanded, "Un Giorno di Regno," was a dead failure, and disgusted the composer to such a point that he declared that he would never write again. At this time Verdi was the victim of most severe affliction. In addition to poverty, within the space of about two months he experienced the loss of his two children and of his wife, to whom he was devotedly attached. After living some time in Milan, he received a copy of the libretto, "Il Proscritto," and in 1842 it was performed. It was well staged, and achieved an unqualified success. Then followed "I Lombardi" (1843), "Ernani" (1844), "I Due Foscari" (1844), "Attila" (1846), "Macbeth" (1847), "Rigoletto" (1851), "Il Trovatore" (1853), "La Traviata" (1853), "Les Vepres Siciliennes" (1855), "Un Ballo in Maschera" (1859), "La Forza del Destino" (1862), "Don Carlos" (1867), "Aida" (1871), "Otello" (1887). In addition to these works he has written a great "Requiem Mass," and many smaller works. Besides the operas above mentioned there were several others now mostly forgotten, the total number being twenty-nine; and there is not one of them that does not contain more or less of striking melody, with effective concerted pieces and choruses. Verdi's melody was much more vigorous than that of either of his predecessors. In "Trovatore" there are ten or twelve numbers which have become famous in the barrel-organ repertory. His instrumentation was very full and sonorous, and his dramatic instinct excellent. We do not find the long roulades and ornamental passages according to the taste of his predecessors, but instead of them, clear, sharp, concise, manly melodies—unfortunately, however, they are so near the line of the vulgar that only a refined treatment on the part of the singer can save them for poetry and beauty.

Beginning with "Aida," a very important change can be seen in Verdi's style. By the time this work was undertaken the Wagnerian theories were attracting general attention, and it was impossible that a man of Verdi's intellectual force should have failed to be affected by them. "Aida" is much more refined and dramatically truthful than any of those before it. As the composer was now an old man nothing farther was expected from his pen. Nevertheless, in "Otello," he has given the world a masterpiece of a still higher order, the music throughout being subservient to the story, while the dramatic handling of the work is masterly in the extreme. For this he was in part indebted to his librettist, the distinguished poet and composer, Signor Arrigo Boito. The strangest thing in regard to Verdi is that at the present writing (1891) he is engaged upon a comic opera, "Falstaff," a subject which he says has interested him for about forty years, but which until now he has never had time to undertake. As a man and a patriot Verdi is held in the highest possible honor in Italy; and for his own original genius, as displayed in his works, and especially in his aptitude for progress, no less than for his dignified and simple private life, he deserves to be admired as the foremost Italian master of the present century.

One of the most earnest among Italian composers and musicians is Arrigo Boito (1842), who, from an origin which is German from his mother's side, possesses an earnestness and force in music not usual in southern lands. After composing two cantatas, which had a good success, his grand opera of "Mefistofele" was produced at Milan in 1868, and later in other leading cities. Two more operas "Hero and Leander" and "Nero" are not yet published. M. Boito is equally celebrated in his own country as musician and as poet. In the latter capacity he prepared his own librettos, besides furnishing that of "Otello" to Verdi and "La Gioconda" to Ponchielli. He has published several books of poems, and other operatic books. As composer he partakes much of the spirit of Wagner. He has yet another opera nearly completed, but in 1891 little is known of it. It is called "Orestiade."

Amilcare Ponchielli (1834-1866) is generally regarded in Italy as having been the most distinguished Italian composer after Verdi. He was educated at Milan, but his early triumphs were made elsewhere, his famous "I Promessi Sposi" having been performed there only in 1872. His principal works are the preceding, which was composed in 1856, "La Savojarda" (1861), "Roderico" (1864), "La Stella del Monte" (1867), "La Gioconda," his master work, produced at La Scala, 1876, and "Marion Delorme" (1885). His music occupies a middle ground between the melodiousness of the Italian composers of the early part of the century and the seriousness of later German opera.

In spite of the few examples reaching foreign countries, there is a continuous and rather abundant production of light and serious operas in Italy, every principal theater making it a point to bring out one or more new works every season. The best of these, after a long interval, become known abroad. It is a great mistake to suppose that the few Italian operas of recent date performed in England and America adequately represent the present state of Italian art.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Fig. 90.

AUBER.

The oldest of these masters to achieve distinction, and the one most successful in gaining the ear of other countries than France, was Daniel François Esprit Auber (1782-1870). He was born in Caen, in Normandy, of a family highly gifted and artistic in temperament. Nevertheless, his father intended him for a merchant, and sent him to England in 1804, in the hope that the study of commercial success there might wean him from his love of music. But the boy came back more musical than ever. After composing several pieces, a little opera, a mass, etc., his first opera to be publicly performed was "Le Séjour Militaire." During the fifteen years next following he wrote a succession of light operas for the smaller theaters of Paris, most of them with librettos by Scribe. No one of these works had more than a temporary success, and the names are not sufficiently important to be given here. At length, in 1828, he produced his master work, "La Muette di Portici," otherwise known as "Masaniello," which at once placed its author upon the pinnacle of fame. This was an opera upon the largest scale, and was the first in order of the three great master works which adorned the Paris stage during this and the three years following. The others were Rossini's "Tell" in 1829, and Meyerbeer's "Robert" in 1831. The subject was fortunately related to the spirit of the times, Masaniello having been leader of the insurgents in Naples. The work well deserved its success, since for melody and pleasing effects it has rarely been surpassed. The overture is still much played as a concert number, but the opera itself has nearly left the stage, excepting in Germany, where it still has a distinguished place. All his later works were lighter than "Masaniello." They were "La Fiancée" (1829), the extremely melodious and popular "Fra Diavolo" (1830) and many others, for more than twenty years still. Among them were "The Bronze Horse" (in 1835), "Le Domino Noir" (in 1837), and "The Crown Diamonds" (1831). Auber was elected member of the Institute in 1829, and in 1842 succeeded Cherubini as director of the Conservatory. He was an extremely witty and charming man, beloved by all.

Contemporaneous with Auber, but more allied to the genius of Boieldieu, was Louis Joseph Ferdinand Hérold, (1791-1833). After studying at the Conservatory and composing a number of operas which failed, or had but moderate success, he brought out "Zampa," in 1831. This work had an extraordinary success, and its overture is still often heard. Another work "Le Pré aux Clercs," (1832), is generally esteemed in France more highly than "Zampa," but outside of his native country public opinion universally regards the latter as his best work. Hérold's operas are extremely well conceived from a dramatic point of view, and his melody has much of the sweet and flowing quality of the best Italian. His concerted numbers also are well made, and in all respects he is to be regarded as a master of high rank within the province of light opera, verging indeed upon the confines of the romantic type, like that of Weber.

The true successor of Boieldieu, with perhaps somewhat less of originality, was Adolphe Charles Adam, (1803-1856), son of a piano teacher in the Conservatory at Paris. His most lasting work was "Le Postillon de Lonjumeau" (1836), in which the German tenor Wachtel made himself so famous. Most of the other productions of this clever, but not deep, composer, are now forgotten. In their day they pleased.

The most important work of the last half century of French opera was the "Faust" of Charles François Gounod (1818- ), produced in 1859. Gounod was born and educated at Paris, took the prize of Rome in 1837, after composing quite a number of works of a semi-religious character, in which direction he has always had a strong bias. His first opera was produced in 1854, "La Nonne Sanglante." In 1852 he was made director of the Orpheonists, the male part singers of Paris, numbering many thousands, somewhat answering to the organization of the Tonic Sol-fa in England. "Faust" made an epoch in French opera. Its rich and sensuous music, its love melodies of melting tenderness, and the cleverness of the instrumentation, as well as its pleasing character, combine to place it in a category by itself. This was the beginning and the end of Gounod, for in his other works, while there is much cleverness and melodiousness, there is also much reminder of "Faust." Perhaps the best of his later operas are "Romeo et Juliette" (1867), and "Mireille" (1864). Among the others were "Cinq-Mars," "Polyeucte," "Le Tribute de Zamora." He has also written an oratorio, "The Redemption," produced at Birmingham in 1882, many numbers in which are truly imposing. As a whole the work is mystical and sensuous, rather than strong or inspired. A continuation of this work "Mors et Vita" was given at Birmingham in 1885, and the following year several times in America, under the direction of Mr. Theodore Thomas. In this work, a part of the text of which consists of the Latin hymn "Dies Iræ," Gounod contrives to repeat certain of the sensational effects of Berlioz's work. Both these oratorios belong to an intermediate category in oratorio, sensational effects possible only in the concert room intervening with others planned entirely in a devotional and mystic spirit. As a composer, Gounod has two elements of strength.

He is first of all a lyrical composer of unusual merit, as can be seen in his "Oh that We Two were Maying," "Nazareth," "There Is a Green Hill Far Away," etc. His second element of greatness is his talent for well sounding and deliciously blending instrumentation, in which respect he is one of the best representatives of the French school. This quality is happily shown upon a small scale, in connection with the other already mentioned, in his famous "Ave Maria," with violin and organ obligato, superimposed upon the first prelude in Bach's "Well Tempered Clavier." Unfortunately his structural ability is not equal to the strain of elaborate dramatic works, in which the interest greatly depends upon the music following the complications of the drama. In "Faust," and in all his other operas, the songs are the main attractions—the songs and the choruses. The finales are poorly constructed, with little invention and less progress of dramatic intensity.

Among the better composers of the later French school was Felix Marie Victor Massé (1822-1884), who experienced the usual fortunes of the better class of French composers, having taken the prize of Rome in 1844 and produced his first opera, "La Chanteuse Voilée," in 1850, which was followed by his "Galathéa" in 1852 and the "Marriage of Jeanette" in 1853. Encouraged by these successes he produced a large number of operas in Italy, of which the best were "La Reine Topaze" (1856) and "Les Saisons" (1855). In 1860 he became chorus master at the Academy of Music, and in 1866 professor of composition at the Conservatory. In 1872 he was elected to the Institute as successor of Auber. In addition to the works already mentioned he produced "Paul and Virginia" (1866), and several others, besides a number of songs. His last opera, "Le Mort de Cleopatre," was written during his long sickness, and on the whole was not a success.

Another pleasing French composer is Jules Émile Frédéric Massenet (1842- ), who took the prize of Rome in 1863, and in 1867 produced his first opera, "La Grande Tante." In addition to this he composed a number of operas, "Le Roi de Lahore" (1877), "Marie Madeleine" (1873), an oratorio, and "Eve" in 1875. He has also written a number of orchestral suites which have been very popular in all countries. His latest work, "Le Mage," was produced at the Grand Opera, Paris, March, 1891.

One of the most brilliant and versatile of the French musicians of this generation is M. Camille Saint-Saëns (1835- ), a virtuoso upon the piano and organ, and an orchestral tone-poet of very rare quality. Educated in the Conservatory, he composed his first symphony when he was sixteen, and was organist of the Church of St. Marri at the age of eighteen. In 1858 he became organist at the Madeleine. He has produced a number of operas, of which "Le Timbre d'Argent" (1887), "Samson and Delilah" (1877), and "Etienne Marcel" (1879), "Henry VIII" (1883) and "Ascanio," produced in 1890 at the Grand Opera. In addition to these, Saint-Saëns has produced a large number of orchestral pieces, including "Le Mouet d'Omphale," "Le Dance Macabre," and other symphonic poems of the programme character. He has also written several oratorios, of which "The Deluge" is the most important, and a large amount of chamber and pianoforte music. He is a brilliant writer about music, and is favorably known in Germany and all the rest of Europe as a virtuoso upon the piano and organ. His second concerto for piano is one of the best virtuoso pieces for that instrument. In his "Melodie et Harmonie," a collection of newspaper essays, he discusses many interesting questions. His fame with posterity is more likely to rest upon his orchestral pieces, which are extremely clever and interesting, than upon his operas. Personally he is said to be very witty and entertaining. He has been a member of the Institute since 1874.

Another French composer, versatile and well gifted in orchestral composition, is Clément Philibert Léo Délibes (1848- ). After his education at the Conservatory, and his service as accompanist at the Grand Opera, he received, in 1866, a commission to compose a ballet, "La Source," in which he displayed such a wealth of melody and such fortunate rhythm that his talent was henceforth unmistakable. He has since composed a large number of ballets, many of which are known in all parts of the world, such as "Sylvia"; also a large number of songs. His principal opera was "Lakmé" (1883). He is a professor at the Conservatory, a member of the Legion of Honor, and the successor of Victor Massé at the Institute.

Still another very talented composer of orchestral music is Édouard Victor Antoine Lalo (1823- ), who was originally a violinist in a favorite string quartette. He has composed a large amount of orchestral music, a violin concerto in F (1874), "Symphonie Espagnole" (1875), for violin and orchestra, a rhapsody "Norvegienne," and many other orchestral works, besides several operas, of which the "Roi d'Ys" (1888) is the most important. He received the Cross of the Legion of Honor in 1880, and is one of the best of the French composers. Many of his works have been played by Theodore Thomas.

Georges Bizet (1838-1875) is best known as the composer of "Carmen" (1875). He had previously produced a considerable number of smaller works, which had been but moderately successful. In "Carmen," however, he showed qualities of rhythmic and harmonic coloration which promised brilliant results in the future. His career was prematurely cut short by death. He was a fine pianist.

The Nestor of still living French composers is M. Charles Ambroise Thomas (1811- ), born at Metz in the same year as Liszt, and only one and two years after Schumann and Chopin. This venerable and highly gifted master early succeeded in catching the ear of the French public, and between 1837, when his "La Double Echelle" was performed at the Opéra Comique, until 1848, he produced a succession of charming light pieces in the taste of the day. There was a sort of middle period in which he wrote several very witty works for the same stage, but the time of his greatest career dates from the production of "Mignon" (1866), "Hamlet" (1868), and "Francesca da Rimini" (1882). He was elected to the Institute in 1851, and at Auber's death in 1871 was made director of the Conservatoire, in which important position he has accomplished much toward systematizing and deepening musical education. M. Thomas is a highly cultivated man of the world; tall, slender, fond of physical exercise, he has retained the faculties of an active and very versatile mind to an old age. His opera of "Mignon" is probably the one of his productions which will last longest.

Of French opera as a whole during this century, the general characterization may be made that it has gained in cosmopolitan quality, nearly all the composers mentioned in the present chapter having gained a world-wide fame. The distinguishing feature of this class of opera is its sprightly rhythm, and the clearness of the melodic forms. The instrumentation, also, is generally clever. The music is pleasing rather than deep, and the popularity of French opera in Germany, for example, is mainly due to its value as a relief to the often undue elaboration of the original German article.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

The great feature of the third quarter of the century was the conception and execution of the Wagnerian music-drama, with its wealth of sense incitation and its somber appeal to accumulated experiences of the race. The "Ring of the Nibelungen" was completed during this period and received its first performance at Bayreuth in 1876. During the same period Franz Liszt had conceived a modification of the symphony form, bringing its four movements into a single one, or uniting the different movements (if such there were) by means of motives common to all or several of them. In this way a certain novelty was attainable in the most important province of instrumental music; and while the new compositions generally acknowledged their indebtedness to external incitation by titles, such as: "What One Sees from a Mountain," the "Battle of the Huns," "Romeo and Juliette," and the like, there was nothing to prevent them being in the fullest sense musical works, having a musical life as such wholly independent of the suggestion given by the title. Berlioz had been the founder of programme music, and his leading works had been produced during the second quarter of the century, but their full force was not recognized until later. It was a follower of Liszt, the brilliant Frenchman, Camille Saint-Saëns, who stated the central thesis of the whole romantic school, when he said that a composer had the same right to affix a title to his work, in order to give a pleasing standpoint for judging it, as a painter had to name his picture. And in the case of music, he added, as in that of painting, the real question finally was not whether the suggestion of the title had been fully satisfied, but whether the picture were good painting and the composition good music. If it were good music, no flaw in the title and no disagreement between the title and the work could impair its value and lasting quality.

When carefully scrutinized, the progress of music during the present century has been governed by certain leading principles which are not contradictory, although at first glance they might appear so. Since the time of the Netherlandish contrapuntists, the primary impulse in musical creation has been the musical ideal—the creation of tonal fancies, novel, inspiring, musical, satisfactory. Out of this desire has arisen the entire fabric of fugue, sonata, symphony and the whole world of free music. And at every period there have been those also who sought to connect these tonal fancies with the inner life of the spirit—to awaken feeling, inspire imagination, deepen dramatic impression; in short, to give us in place of irresponsible tonal crystallizations a poetically conceived discourse, operative upon the feelings and stimulative to the entire mind. This was the ideal of the new movement in Italy at the beginning of the seventeenth century, and opera has steadily worked along this ideal. Sebastian Bach had moments when he himself attempted the programme music; and Beethoven made many attempts of the same kind, some of which are significant and lasting. Hence the romantic impulse was not something new in the history of music, but the blossoming of buds from seeds planted long before. The programme music of Berlioz was simply larger and more flamboyant than the little exercises of Bach in the same direction. Wagner's idea of bringing together the entire resources of musical, dramatic and scenic art into a single highly complex work was merely the idea of the unity of all the arts, upon which Æschylus worked two thousand years earlier, and upon which Jacopo Peri and Claudio Monteverde worked at the beginning of the seventeenth century. In short, the art of music, while in this century being enriched by a multitude of new creations representing a variety of subordinate ideals, is nevertheless still a unity, constantly becoming more elaborate and masterly upon the tonal side, and continually more and more in touch with the deeper springs of duration in art, the intuitively realized correspondence between certain art forms and modes of expression and human feeling.

The composers of the last quarter of the century are very numerous; indeed, so numerous that a catalogue even of their names would occupy too much space. Moreover, their proximity to our own times brings them too near for successfully estimating their places in the pantheon of art, or even for the much simpler task of deciding upon certain names which undoubtedly should occupy places in the list. For present purposes it will be more convenient to notice them by nationalities, since every racial stock has certain individualities and ideals which the national composers eventually bring into art, as we see brilliantly illustrated in the case of the Russians, both in music and in painting.

There are, however, certain names which stand out above all others and at the present writing appear destined for place among or very near the immortals of the first order. These great names are those of Johannes Brahms, Camille Saint-Saëns, Peter Ilitsch Tschaikowsky, Antonin Dvorak and Edvard Grieg.

I. Music in Germany.

In Germany, very naturally, the activity in the higher departments of music remains more intense than in any other country, and the seat of musical empire may be said to still abide in southern Germany, where it was established by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. The most eminent living composer in the higher department of the art, Johannes Brahms, resides at Vienna since these many years; there also Max Bruch long resided, and there the greatest of the light opera composers, the Strauss family and Von Suppé, have lived and worked. It is in the provinces of the Austro-Hungarian empire, moreover, that the Bohemian composer, Dvorak, has his home.

In Johannes Brahms (1833- ) we have still living a musical master of the first order, whose quality as master is shown in his marvelous technique, in which respect no recent composer is to be mentioned as his superior, if any can be named since Bach his equal. This technique was at first personal, at the pianoforte, upon which he was a virtuoso of phenomenal rank; but this renown, great as it is in well informed circles, sinks into insignificance beside his marvelous ability at marshaling musical periods, elaborating together the most dissimilar and apparently incompatible subjects, and his powers of varying a given theme and of unfolding from it ever something new. These wonderful gifts, for such they were rather than laboriously acquired attainments, Brahms showed at the first moment when the light of musical history shines upon him. It was in 1853, when the Hungarian violinist, Edouard Remenyi, found him at Hamburgh and engaged him as accompanist and having ascertained his astonishing talents, brought him, a young man of twenty, to Liszt at Weimar, with his first trio and certain other compositions in manuscript. The new talent made a prodigious effect upon Liszt, who needed not that any one should certify to him whether a composer had genius or merely talent. The Liszt circle took up the Brahms cult in earnest, played the trio at the chamber concerts, and the members when they departed to their homes generally carried with them their admiration of this new personality which had appeared in music.

Johannes Brahms was born at Hamburgh, May 7, 1833, the son of a fine musician who was player upon the double bass in the orchestra there. The boy was always intended for a musician, and his instruction was taken in hand with so much success that at the age of fourteen he played in public pieces by Bach and Beethoven, and a set of original variations. At the age of twenty he was a master, and it was in this year that he accompanied Remenyi, made the acquaintance of Joachim and Liszt, and had a rarely appreciative notice from a master no less than Robert Schumann himself, who in his New Journal of Music said:

"He has come, a youth at whose cradle graces and heroes kept watch. Sitting at the piano he began to unveil wonderful regions. We were drawn into more and more magical circles by his playing, full of genius, which made of the piano an orchestra of lamenting and jubilant voices. There were sonatas, or rather veiled symphonies; songs whose poetry might be understood without words; piano pieces both of a demoniac nature and of the most graceful form; sonatas for piano and violin; string quartettes, each so different from every other that they seemed to flow from many different springs. Whenever he bends his magic wand, there, when the powers of the orchestra and chorus lend him their aid, further glimpses of the magic world will be revealed to us. May the highest genius strengthen him! Meanwhile the spirit of modesty dwells within him. His comrades greet him at his first entrance into the world of art, where wounds may perhaps await him, but bay and laurel also; we welcome him as a valiant warrior."

The next few years were spent by Brahms in directing orchestra and chorus at Detmold and elsewhere, and in Switzerland, which has always had great attraction for him. In 1859 he played in Leipsic his first great pianoforte concerto; most of the criticisms thereon were, however, such as now excite mirth. Lately he has played in Leipsic again, conducted several of his works, and was greeted with the reverence and enthusiasm due the greatest living representative of the art of music. In 1862 Brahms located in Vienna, where he has almost ever since resided. Mr. Louis Kestelborn, in "Famous Composers and Their Works," says: "About thirty years ago the writer first saw Brahms in his Swiss home; at that time he was of a rather delicate, slim-looking figure, with a beardless face of ideal expression. Since then he has changed in appearance, until now he looks the very image of health, being stout and muscular, the noble manly face surrounded by a full gray beard. The writer well remembers singing under his direction, watching him conduct orchestra rehearsals, hearing him play alone or with orchestra, listening to an after-dinner speech or private conversation, observing him when attentively listening to other works, and seeing the modest smile with which he accepted, or rather declined, expressions of admiration."

The most important works of Brahms, aside from his "German Requiem," are four symphonies for orchestra, two concertos for pianoforte, a concerto for violin and 'cello with orchestra, a violin concerto, many songs, a variety of compositions for chamber, embracing a number for unusual combinations of instruments (such as clarinet and horn with piano), sonatas for piano solo, etc. In the songs he attains a simple and direct expression, not surpassed in musical quality since Schubert and Schumann; in the concertos he is more for music than for display, which is merely to say that in conceiving the display of his solo instrument, he has sought rather to display it at its best in a musical sense than to exhibit its peculiar tricks of dexterity. As a symphonist he follows classic form, and is more successful than any other writer in the slow movements, a department in which most of the later writers are distinctly weak, since in an idealized folk song (which is the essential ideal of the symphonic slow movement) poverty of imagination cannot be concealed by dexterity of thematic treatment and modulation. As a writer for the pianoforte he has made important enlargements of the technique, not alone in his arrangement of easier compositions by earlier writers, but still more by original demands upon the fingers, as illustrated in his great sets of variations.

Distinguished among German composers is Max Bruch (1838- ) who was born at Cologne, and educated there and almost everywhere else in Germany. Bruch is best known by his works for chorus with orchestra, of which "Frithjof," "A Roman Song of Triumph," "The Song of the Three Kings," "Odysseus," "Arminius" are best known. His concerto for violin is also played in all parts of the world, but his opera of "Hermione" made but a moderate success at Berlin in 1872. Riemann considers his greatest works for mixed chorus to be "Odysseus," "Arminius," "The Song of the Bell," and for male chorus "Frithjof," "Salamis" and "The Normans." His style is closely wrought, musical, full of deep and natural musical expression, and well colored instrumentation.

Anton Bruckner (1824- ) a highly gifted organist and composer, has written seven symphonies, in which the style is very modern, and shows the influence of the theatrical style of Wagner. He is a composer of considerable vigor.