Maurice Ravel (1875) still living in Paris, seems to love Spanish themes as did Chabrier and Bizet. One of the loveliest tone poems is his Rhapsodie Espagnole in four movements. His Mother Goose suite and La Valse are also lovely, modern, short orchestral works.
He writes with rare distinction and beauty. In the chapter on 20th century music, Ravel will make another appearance.
Among the most humorous and delightful tone poems is L’Apprenti-Sorcier (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) by Paul Dukas (1865). Dukas too, will appear in another chapter.
After calling Beethoven a Colossus, there does not seem to be room for any one else, and yet Brahms (1833–1897) is no less of a genius. You will often hear people speak of “the three Bs,”—Bach, Beethoven and Brahms; and of these, Brahms being closer to our own day has had the advantage and influence of the past. But perhaps he also had the disadvantage of having had some one else say what he would like to have been the first to say! That Brahms continued the things that Beethoven began, may be understood from the fact that many call Brahms’ first symphony The Tenth, meaning that Brahms had begun his symphonies where Beethoven left off.
Johannes Brahms at Home.
After the painting by Rongier.
César Franck.
It is not easy to write of Brahms without seeming to exaggerate, because if we speak of his songs we must say that no one ever created more beautiful song form; if we speak of his chamber music we must acknowledge that he understood writing for instruments as no one before or since has surpassed. His piano pieces, too, are pure delight! Where will one find finer work than his one concerto for violin and those for piano? His four symphonies have so far been unsurpassable and his choral works, too. If he had never written anything but the German Requiem this would have marked him as one of the world’s masters. Has he not justified Schumann’s exclamation upon meeting him in 1853, when Brahms was twenty years old? “Graces and Heroes have watched the cradle of this young genius who sprang ‘like Minerva, fully armed from the head of Jove.’” But Brahms was very modest and was always embarrassed in the presence of praise. While he was compared to Beethoven he waited until very late in life to write symphonies. “How can I write a symphony,” he is reported to have said, “when I feel the shadow of the great Beethoven treading constantly behind me?”
He was born in Hamburg. His father, who was a musician, rejoiced greatly when little Johannes at an early age gave proof that he was gifted. The Brahms family was very poor, and instead of becoming a great artist according to his desire, Johannes’ father from the time he was old enough to earn his living, was a double-bass player. Even though he was the best in Hamburg, he and his wife, who was also musical, had to struggle and save to give their little son the best teachers in piano and composition.
In order to make more than the small amount gained by playing in the orchestras the father organized what we call “the little German band” which played in the open air. Father Brahms and five other musicians attracted the people wherever they went. The boy who had begun to earn a few pennies by arranging dances and marches for the little bands of the cafés, wrote music for his father’s band, and early in the morning even while he brushed shoes before others were awake, the thoughts which became his loveliest songs came to his mind.
When Johannes was fifteen he gave his first public piano recital and made a deep impression. It started him on the road to fame, for he played so well that he was engaged to accompany the Gypsy violinist, Remenyi, who played all over the world and became very famous. Brahms went into many countries with him but never came to America, where Remenyi was a great idol. Gypsy-like, he was happy in his wanderings and when he was old went into vaudeville, drawing thousands wherever he played. He was about to face one of these immense audiences in San Francisco but drew only a few tones from his beloved violin when his magic fingers were stilled in death!
Remenyi was a great influence in Brahms’ life, for it was through him that Brahms became fascinated with the Gypsy Dances which the composer gave the world as Hungarian Dances. He wrote them for piano solos, duets and bits of them may be found all through Brahms’ orchestral writings. This is folk music, even though it was not the folk music of the country in which Brahms was born.
Another important thing that came into his life through Remenyi was his meeting with Joachim, one of the greatest violinists and teachers of the world. At a concert given by Remenyi when playing the Kreutzer sonata of Beethoven the piano was tuned so low that Brahms was compelled to transpose the entire piano part a semitone (half-step) higher while playing it. Joachim who was in the audience came behind the stage to congratulate the players, and gave Brahms letters of introduction to Liszt, then at Weimar, and Schumann at Düsseldorf. This visit led to Schumann’s article about him, mentioned at the opening of this chapter.
Brahms became a favorite visitor at the home of Schumann and his brilliant wife Clara Schumann. He was hailed by all the celebrities who assembled at the frequent soirées and musicales, as a musician of great promise. His compositions show a strong influence of this early friendship. But Brahms repaid this kindness, for when the ill-fated Schumann died, he became like a son to the bereaved Clara Schumann, who loved him as one.
As this splendid pianist had played her husband’s piano works all over Europe, so she made known the first piano concerto of her young friend. She made a success in spite of the fact that it was not particularly well received at its first performance at the Leipsic Gewandhaus, probably because Brahms was not as great a pianist as he was a composer. His feeling seems to have made him want to turn the piano into an orchestra. He felt everything in a massive way and was very exact.
At the age of twenty-one Brahms became Director of the Court Concerts and of the Choral Society of the Prince of Lippe-Detmold. Being very conscientious he learned much from this experience, which helped him toward becoming one of the greatest writers of choral works as his German Requiem and The Song of Fate prove.
Outside of his music Brahms led an uneventful life. He never married, and devoted such affection as he might have given to a family to music. It is told that someone who knocked at his door, receiving no answer, entered to find him sobbing violently under the emotion caused by some music that he was composing.
When Brahms was about forty he visited Vienna and was so delighted with the musical life he found there that he remained for the rest of his days. As we note the delightful swing of his Waltzes, it is easy to believe that he felt the Viennese moods, which found their way into his compositions.
There is little to say of his general habits except that he was devotedly fond of out-door life and he interrupted his work only to take long jaunts in the open, usually in company with sympathetic friends, for he was friendly, and needed companionship. He did not give up all his time to composing, for he was director of the great Singverein (Choral Society) and he gave some marvelous performances of the choral works of Bach, Beethoven, and of other oratorios and masses.
Brahms died (1897) at sixty-four from a cold he caught while attending the funeral of his friend Clara Schumann. He now lies in the same cemetery as Beethoven and Schubert.
Although Brahms did not create any new forms, there are so many different sides in his compositions, that it is hard to describe any one in particular. He came into the world at the time when music was turning toward the dramatic, because of Wagner’s influence. It seemed that Brahms, himself, was afraid to hear Wagner, whose work he admired. Brahms never wrote an opera and he never wrote pictorial works such as tone poems. His writings were “absolute music” that is, music in its purest form, neither imitating nor representing anything but music. Here was Brahms between the tone poems of Liszt, and the operas of Wagner, and he remained true to pure music! It is said that Hans von Bülow invited him to attend the first performance of Parsifal but he refused saying that he had a dread of Wagnerians, (but not of Wagner)! Although Brahms wrote when the romantic school was at its height, he brought back classicism with a force that influenced the entire musical world. In addition to the classic and romantic forms, many works are called classic to distinguish them from popular music.
Brahms was of the peasant type, and honesty was one of his strongest qualities. This honesty, sincerity and simplicity may be found in every line of his music, which never has light or frothy moments, and which shows everywhere that he loved Bach. He left a large number of very great works. Indeed, one might study Brahms for years and even then never know all he wrote.
He was the center of a group of song writers to whom he must have been an inspiration and an example. His lyrical gift and form, which mean that his songs almost sing themselves, was so great that it is hard to understand how he could have written symphonies and sonatas which, to many people, sound complex, thick and confused. But many people, even good musicians feel this way about Brahms. May we not believe that some day their ears will be opened to its beauties and joys?
The song writers of this period were many as they are in all periods in every country. Many write one or two songs that are lucky enough to become popular, but this does not make a great composer, for the great either bring something new into the world, or create music which by its quality moves other people to write good and beautiful music.
Brahms towered among song writers after the time of Schubert and Schumann. He carried forward the form which has given Germany fame for her exquisite lieder (songs). Great beauty with simplicity of vocal melody against an accompaniment that had the character of a full-fledged piano piece distinguished these songs from those of an earlier period in which the accompaniment gave just a little support to the singer. The old songs however, were often heart appealing by their very simplicity for they had almost a folk-song manner.
Franz Abt (1819–1885) was one of these writers. He must have made a fortune out of When the Swallows Homeward Fly—only, as the composer can not control these things, he probably never knew that this song was to be found on nearly every piano in America for almost fifty years!
Robert Franz (1815–1892) made the world want to singer German lieder for the haunting beauty of his songs. The Rose Complained and In Autumn are fair examples of a collection said to include 350 published songs.
In Chapter XXIV you have seen the place in song occupied by Schubert and Schumann. From them to Brahms does not seem such a great stretch, but only the musician knows how wide it is. The form in which Brahms wrote lieder brought a new feeling to the composers, not by way of imitation, but because vocal music developed naturally into the paths along which he led the way.
Richard Strauss, known for his great tone poems, also for his operas Salome, Elektra and The Rose Cavalier, shortly after Brahms wrote some of the most beautiful songs in the world.
We also find many by his colleagues, Felix Weingartner (1863), Hans Pfitzner (1869), Mahler and others, whose songs, though beautiful, showed their skill less than their operas, symphonies, and choral works.
Hugo Wolf (1860–1903) will be regarded, as time goes on, as one of the greatest composers of the 19th century. This, notwithstanding the fact that he published 260 songs and nothing at all for orchestra, and in chamber music, he wrote only one very interesting quartet introduced in this country nearly twenty years ago by the Flonzaley Quartet. Such a master would no doubt have left more than songs, would have been one of the musical beacon-lights of the world, had his life not been one of tragedy.
His story, indeed, exceeds in unhappiness that of Schumann or even of Beethoven. Early in the best days of his life, his mind began to give way, and during periods of sanity he wrote with unbelievable fluency only to be suddenly cut off from the power. He was fully aware of his condition and his fate, and his letters expressing his emotions and describing his agony are too sad to write about.
Hugo Wolf, born at Windischgratz in Styria (1860) was the fourth son of a leather-currier who was also a musician. The home was the scene of much chamber music in which Hugo played the second violin. The people of Styria loved the old Italian operas, and Wolf frequently expressed the belief that he had some Latin blood in his veins. This seemed to show in his music for he wrote songs in Italian and Spanish style and he was particularly attracted to French music and musicians. One wonders could greater songs have been written than his (Spanisches Liederbuch) Spanish Song Book which includes not only thirty-four brilliant folk-melodies, but also ten noble religious songs.
Romain Rolland, the great French writer on musical subjects wrote: “It has been said that the Spanisches Liederbuch is to Wolf’s work what Tristan is to Wagner’s.”
Indeed many who write of Wolf have said that his vivid power of expression, and inspiration could only be compared to Wagner’s. The poems he selected proved what a high literary taste he had. For a time he was a musical critic and made the bitterest enemies because of the abuse he hurled at Brahms.
His story may be quickly told for he got most of his education from the libraries and from reading the scores of the great masters. Having no piano he could be found daily sitting on a bench in the park studying the Beethoven sonatas. But he loved Wagner best of all, and held his meeting with that master his life’s greatest joy. Wolf had composed little until after he was twenty-eight, then his writing was feverish, interrupted only by his lapses of mind. He died in one of these spells, of pneumonia, at 37. All his work was done in four or five years, for of the last nine years during five of them (1890–95) he was prostrated and often unable to speak.
Among the composers around this time and later, there are but few who have left more than a ripple on the musical ocean. Some created a stir in their own day and even now there is hot discussion about them among the critics, while some people are pleased and others are not.
In those days, as now, every composer had his friends and people who felt it to be their duty not only to stand up for their friend, but to ridicule “the other fellow.” So it was with Brahms, for in the same way that he was abused by those who measured him against Wagner, his friends refused to recognize in Anton Bruckner (1824–1896) a rival of their idol (Brahms).
Brahms was living in Vienna but he was not born there, so the feeling was strong against him when he began to threaten the position of the Viennese, Anton Bruckner, who though nine years older than Brahms, was not recognized so early. There was much in favor of Bruckner. He was a very fine musician. Themes, melodies bubbled forth constantly like an oil-gusher, but he did not know how or when to stop them. If he had only known how to control this continuous flow, he might have been as great a figure as Brahms and the story of his life been different.
It is wonderful, however, what he made of himself, for he was a poor schoolmaster and organist who had only his natural gifts to start with, and had little education. But he wrote symphonies by the wholesale and they were so long that they fairly terrified conductors to whom he brought them in the hope of having them performed. He won his point, however, and lived to gain no small amount of recognition. We heard several of his symphonies in America in 1924, the hundredth anniversary of his birth in Ausfelden, Upper Austria. He died in Vienna in 1896.
Anton Bruckner wrote during the time of the height of Richard Wagner’s glory and the dawn of Richard Strauss’s fame, and was eleven years younger than Wagner, whom he idolized.
Gustav Mahler (1860–1911) enters at this point. It would be difficult to make a definite statement about him, for whatever be said for or against him, is sure to draw argument. He had been a storm-center for many years before his death, and even afterward those who were against him waged war quite as bitterly, while those for him fought more valiantly than ever.
America was in the thick of this fight and many friendships of long standing were broken on account of it. Mahler living in New York as recently as 1908–1911 makes us realize the more fully what men of genius have had to suffer.
Mahler was a powerful musical genius, with astounding ability to work and amazing skill in handling his massive scores. He died at the age of fifty-one leaving so many symphonies, choral and festival works that it was a wonder how one man could have accomplished that much even had he lived to be a hundred.
We marvel at his genius, but do we want to hear often works that last for hours and hours? Some do, who can follow his themes, his amazing treatment of them and his ingenious writing for instruments. Others are fatigued by the length of time he dwells upon one subject and by the length of the work itself, and they sometimes object to his strong contrasts in light and shade. But all this must be left to the future, the scales in which all art is weighed. We should be thankful that America enjoyed the benefits Mahler brought.
He made his American début as conductor at the Metropolitan Opera House, January 1, 1908, and in 1909 he became conductor of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. The labor was so hard, more in trying to adjust himself to the ideas of his Board of Directors than in the work itself, that it broke his health and he returned to his home to die that same year.
He came here with a tremendous career behind him. It was strange, having all his life led operas and produced them in lavish fashion, he did not write one! But he did write many beautiful and very difficult songs. When his works are given, it is usually made a gala occasion, as they can only be done by the largest organizations and with the greatest artists. The Society of the Friends of Music give some work by Mahler each season in New York.
Gustav Mahler was born in Kalischt, Bohemia, and died in Vienna. He studied philosophy at the Vienna University and among his teachers of music were Julius Epstein and Anton Bruckner.
When Anton Seidl left the opera house of Prague, 1885–86, Gustav Mahler jointly with Angelo Neumann succeeded him. He made a great success of the Court Opera of Vienna where he was director of the house and conductor for ten years, but he demanded nothing short of perfection. His insistent ardor for the best in music and in its performance caused him the greatest unhappiness and really cost him his life.
Max Reger (1873–1916) caused a stir during the latter part of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th. His father, a schoolmaster and good organist, wanted Max to be a schoolteacher, but at an early age young Max began to write for piano and organ. After hearing Die Meistersinger and Parsifal in Bayreuth (1888) he was so stirred that he began to write big works. Reger was perhaps most influenced by Bach, and notwithstanding his very modern ideas he never lost sight of the old classic form which may have made his work seem stiff and formal at times. Some of his songs are very fine and his orchestral numbers are frequently played in America.
Max Bruch (1838–1920) was born in Berlin and besides being a composer of chamber music, three symphonies and familiar violin concertos, he wrote many choral works.
From this period, but not from this same country, arose one of the most important and most beautiful influences of the 19th century. We have learned enough about the world’s great men to know that we can never judge by appearances, unless we are keen enough to recognize a beautiful soul when it looks through kindly eyes.
Such was the countenance of César Franck (born in Liège, Belgium, 1820—died in Paris, 1890), often called the “French Brahms”—but he was neither French, nor was he enough like Brahms to have been so called. While César Franck was not French, we may say that the entire French school of the second half of the 19th century was of his making. This, because instead of devoting himself to playing in public and making long concert tours, he preferred to have a quiet home life so that he could compose. This seriously disappointed his father who had sent him from Liège to the Paris Conservatory.
He was but five years of age when Beethoven died, but his work throughout his entire life strongly showed the influence of the Master of Bonn, perhaps because his first teacher in Paris was Anton Reicha, a friend and admirer of Beethoven.
While all of Beethoven’s nine symphonies are known and played all over the world, César Franck is known by one which is played very often and by all orchestras. Where Beethoven wrote many sonatas both for piano alone and for piano and violin, when we hear the name of César Franck, we immediately think of the one famous sonata for violin and piano which was so popular that it was also arranged for violoncello. This was written in very free and practically new form.
César Franck has written a number of fine works for piano and for orchestra, and for stringed instruments, but when it comes to organ works, it would take a large volume to tell of them. Most pianists play the Prelude, Aria and Finale, also the Prelude, Chorale and Fugue, just as nearly all the violinists play the sonata, which are masterpieces. Being deep in church music, and also a very religious man it was perhaps natural that among his best known works should be Les Béatitudes for orchestra, chorus and soloists, and Redemption, a work sung frequently by the Oratorio Societies of America and Europe. It was d’Indy who said: “In France, symphonic music originated with the school of César Franck.” There were not, however, many symphonies, but he was a master in the symphonic poem. The best known among these are Les Éolides (The Æolides), Les Djinns on Victor Hugo’s splendid poem of that name and Le Chasseur Maudit (The Accursed Hunter). Also very well known is the piano quintet, and we hear sometimes the Symphonic Variations for piano and orchestra.
César Franck was different from most composers, for his father, like Father Mozart, was very determined that he should be a pianist and took the boy on a concert tour when he was only ten years of age! He gave concerts throughout Belgium, and at fourteen his father took him with his brother Joseph to the Paris Conservatory, where later he became a distinguished professor.
There are many examples in life where a talent runs away with its possessor. So it was with young César, who, after only a year’s schooling, entered the concours or competition. He covered himself with glory in the piano piece he had to play, but when he was tested for reading at sight, it flashed through his head how funny it would be to transpose the piece three notes lower! And so he did, without a mistake! But the judges were so horrified that he should dare do anything different from what was expected that they decided not to give him the prize because he had broken the rules! But, Cherubini, our old acquaintance there was great enough to know what the boy had done, and through his influence a special prize was created for César Franck called the Grand Prix d’Honneur which has never, since then, been conferred upon anyone!
César Franck was very mild and sweet in nature but when it came to his music he was almost rebellious in his independence. To understand the degree of his daring you must know what a concours means.
The graduating classes of the Paris Conservatory are drawn up to play their pieces and to receive the criticism of the judges, and the prizes. They all play the same thing so the judges can tell exactly how each compares with the other. Five of the most famous musicians of the world are selected and they sit in judgment. Imagine this terrifying ordeal! A couple of years after the first occurrence, César Franck had to enter an organ competition, and again his genius got away from his judgment. He was expected to improvise a sonata on one subject given him by the judges and a fugue on another subject. Franck passed in very orderly fashion through the first part, but when it came to the fugue he thought how amusing it would be to work the sonata subject into the fugue subject, a feat which startled these wise judges by its colossal daring and the stupendous manner in which he accomplished it. But did they give him the first prize? Not they! Talk about “Red Tape”—he had not followed the rules and all he received out of the brilliant feat was a second prize! But the world got César Franck.
We little realize how a tiny deed may influence the world! We may almost reckon that a kind-hearted priest was responsible for what César Franck became as a composer! After he had had the wonderful musical training at the Conservatory he refused to travel as a concert artist, but wanted to remain at home and marry. This separated him completely from his father. Besides wanting his son to play, he objected to his marrying an actress when he was twenty-six. Here is where the priest first befriended him, for he performed the ceremony that made them man and wife.
But the days of revolution in Paris (1848) were upon them and pupils did not come in great numbers. Poverty such as Franck had never known faced him and his bride. But his good friend the priest was called to a church and he immediately appointed César Franck as organist. The instrument was very fine and his happiness was complete for he loved church services above everything. This brought him directly under the musical influence of Bach, which after all, was the greatest in his life. Later he became organist of Saint Clothilde where the organ was even finer and his composing hours were fairly absorbed by writing for the organ.
The programs given by concert-organists are usually divided between Bach and César Franck, with a few numbers by Alexandre Guilmant, the great French organist, Charles Marie Widor, Theodore Dubois and a few other Frenchmen.
With all the composition that this grand old man of musical France left behind him, he left a still greater thing in the young men who were his pupils, some of whom were among the most important figures in the late 19th century.
It is a singular fact that César Franck died almost exactly as did two of his most famous pupils, Ernest Chausson and Emmanuel Chabrier. The former was killed in the Bois de Boulogne while riding a bicycle and Chabrier was killed by a fall from a horse. Their beloved professor was knocked down by an omnibus, and although he seemed to recover and continue with his lessons and composing, he became ill from the effects and died a few months later, in his 68th year.
During this last illness he wanted to get out of bed to try three new chorales for organ, which he read through day after day as the end approached. This was the last music from his pen for the manuscripts were lying beside him when the priest gave him the last rites of the Catholic Church.
If one could sum up the outstanding features of César Franck’s music, they would be nobility and lofty spirit, true reflections of his unfaltering religious faith.
César Franck did more than just devote teaching hours to his pupils. He had them come to his home, and surrounded by youth and enthusiasm, his own power grew greater. They played their new works for each other and for the Master, and out of this was born the Société Nationale (National Society). It swung both the public taste and the composers out of the light, frivolous opera of the day into a love for, and a support of French symphonic and chamber music. The Society was founded in 1871, just following the Franco-Prussian war and was a protest against the German musical domination in France, in fact it was a direct aim against Wagner. In spite of the fact that Franck was influenced by Bach, Beethoven and Wagner, he worked sincerely to develop the classic French school outside of opera form.
Another great national institution which grew out of the influence of César Franck was the famous Schola Cantorum founded by Vincent d’Indy and Charles Bordes, his pupils, and Alexandre Guilmant.
Among the Franck pupils in addition to d’Indy and Bordes may be mentioned, as a few of the foremost, Alexis de Castillon (1838–1873), Emmanuel Chabrier (1842–1894), Henri Duparc (1848) famous for some of the most beautiful songs in all French music, Ernest Chausson (1855–1899), Guillaume Lekeu (1870–1894), of the Netherlands, and composer of Hamlet, a tone poem and other pieces, Pierre de Bréville (1861), Guy Ropartz (1864), Gabriel Pierné, Paul Vidal, and Georges Marty.
But his influence did not stop here, for it touched many, including such close friends as Alexandre Guilmant and Eugene Ysaye, the renowned violinist, as well known in America as in Europe. He was a countryman of César Franck and played for its first performance anywhere, Franck’s violin sonata dedicated to him.
Alberic Magnard (1865–1914), was related musically to Franck through d’Indy his chief teacher. Magnard met death by the enemy in his own home during the war.
We could fill a volume concerning these interesting men, but we must continue our musical journey. From among them, however, we must learn a little more about Vincent d’Indy, not only because he is a great composer and teacher, but he has taught many Americans.
Vincent d’Indy (1851) a musician of finest qualities and almost countless achievements, is a cultured and educated gentleman. He was brought up by his grandmother, a woman of education and refinement, for his mother died when he was very young. He therefore learned to love culture and elegance early in his life, but this did not prevent him from doing the sort of work which make men a benefit to art and to mankind. In addition to being a musician, he is a skilled critic and writer, also a great teacher and organizer, proof of which may be found in what he has done for France, indeed, for the world, in the Schola Cantorum. He has written many books as well as magazine and newspaper articles and an immense number of musical compositions. He was born in Paris and was a member of the Garde-Mobile during the Franco-Prussian war.
Until the time that he left home for military service he studied the piano with Louis Dièmer, a noted pianist and teacher of Paris, and harmony with Marmontel and Lavignac, both equally famous. Upon his return from war service, his days with César Franck began, and these were precious hours for both the pupil and the teacher who recognized the young man’s power.
He made several trips to Germany, the first in 1873 when he carried to Brahms the César Franck score of Redemption sent with the composer’s compliments. At this time he also met Liszt and Wagner, and later he attended the Bayreuth performances including the world première (first performance) of Parsifal. His musical activities led him from the organ loft to becoming tympani (kettle-drums) player in the Colonne Orchestra, where he went, no doubt, to learn the instruments of the orchestra and how to handle them. He found out, because he is most skilled in writing for orchestra.
He has had many prominent pupils, and it is his pride and his ambition to continue along the lines laid down by César Franck. He has had more than ordinary success as a conductor going to many countries to conduct his own compositions. He came twice to America as guest conductor of the Boston Symphony appearing with that organization in its home and also in New York.
Vincent d’Indy, following the ideal of Franck is largely responsible for the return of music in his country to symphony, from which it had strayed far. In this period there was a general feeling to bring music back to classical form. This young school was doing it in France as Brahms had done it in Germany and the result was that many composers wrote symphonies. If we look through musical history since then, we will find that the revival of a feeling for the classics has helped to make the latter part of the 19th century very rich.
Although d’Indy has written several operas, there has been no attempt to give them in this country, which is strange because it is very difficult to get operas that are worth producing at the Metropolitan Opera House or in Chicago, the only other city in America that supports its own opera on a large scale.
D’Indy is living in Paris (1925), where the life around him bristles with study, achievement and ambition. He is as much of an inspiration to his pupils as was his own teacher, but this is the 20th century, in which conditions, and men, are different from those of the past! He has not stood still but has gone steadily ahead, although his influence upon the very modern writers must have been healthy and restraining, notwithstanding the fact that only a few years ago he was regarded as a modern.
In the musical history of France, the name of Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924) looms high. He was born in Pamiers, and was taught by the Dean of French musical folk, Camille Saint-Saëns. Like all the musicians of France, no matter whether or not they planned to use it as a profession, they devoted as much time to the organ as to the piano, and most of them became famous organists even though they had not planned to be organists. For this reason France has more great organists and organ compositions to offer than any other country of the world.
Gabriel Fauré became the organist of Rennes and later went to Saint Sulpice and Saint Honoré, and finally he became organist of the Madeleine in 1896. These churches are among the greatest in France, and to be organist in any one of them means that he is a great musician.
Fauré had honors showered upon him for he gave his country some of the most brilliant works contributed by any of her sons. In France the compositions of Gabriel Fauré are highly valued, but with the exception of a few songs, are not known in America, the more the pity. Fauré is better known here as the head of the Conservatory in which his life was spent until his very recent death. He went there to share the classes in composition, counterpoint and fugue with André Gédalge, succeeding Jules Massenet, and in 1905 Fauré succeeded Theodore Dubois as Director of the Conservatory. Still more honors heaped upon him made him a member of the Académie, for which no one can be named until there is a vacancy. He was therefore the successor to Ernest Reyer.
In 1910 the world was much stirred when Gabriel Fauré was made Commander of the Legion of Honor, a distinction given only when a man has done something very great.
In addition to these tributes to his standing in the community and his achievements as an artist, he took numerous prizes for his compositions of which there were three operas, much incidental music, symphonies, a well known violin and piano sonata, some fine chamber music and much music for the organ and for choruses. But beyond the appreciation always shown Fauré for his larger works, he will always be loved in France because he was regarded as the French Schubert, so lovely were his melodies and so lavishly did he write.
He kept pure and true the ideals and characteristics of French music, more so, indeed, than did many who may be better known to the concert-goers of this country.
While the Germans, French and Austrians were writing, England had composers, who although not so famous, nevertheless kept music alive in England.
Sir William Sterndale Bennett (1816–1875) with his many orchestral and choral works of which his cantata, The Woman of Samaria, is best known; Sir George A. Macfarren (1813–1887) with operas and oratorios, especially his cantata, Rebekah; his brother, Walter Cecil Macfarren (1826–1905), conductor, and composer of orchestral music; Sir John Stainer (1840–1901), organist, composer of very lovely anthems, and much church music, and Professor of Music at Oxford; Sir Frederick Bridge (1844–1924), organist of Westminster Abbey, writer of text-books on music, and of anthems, part songs and oratorios; Sir Arthur C. Mackenzie (1847), composer of many works including two Scotch symphonies and a cantata, The Cottar’s Saturday Night; Sir Charles Hubert Hastings Parry (1848–1918), Professor of Music at Oxford after Stainer, and writer of many important books on music and of compositions in many forms; Arthur Goring Thomas (1851–1892), who wrote operas, cantatas, and many songs; Sir Frederick Hymen Cowen (1852), with operas, cantatas, symphonies and chamber music; Sir Charles Villiers Stanford (1853–1924), born in Dublin, Ireland, Professor of Music at Cambridge since 1887, student of Irish folk music, and writer of chamber music and short pieces, also of valuable books on musical history and other musical subjects; Edward German (1862), famous for his Henry VIII Dances, much incidental theatre music, and an operetta, The Moon Fairies, in which he used the last libretto written by Sullivan’s inimitable partner, Sir W. S. Gilbert; and Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875–1912), an Englishman of African descent, whose music for chorus and for orchestra is based on American Indian legend, and on Negro folk songs.
And living today is Edward William Elgar (1857), the dean of English composers. While not adding to the new music, he is famous for many pieces, among which are The Dream of Gerontius, The Apostles, other oratorios, symphonies, and his march, Pomp and Circumstance.
Among the women in England, Dame Ethel Smyth (Dame is an honorary title in England) (1858) is known for her opera The Wreckers, and her comic opera The Boatswain’s Mate. Some of her operas have been performed at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York and at Covent Garden, London. Besides she has written songs for the Suffrage Movement, incidental music, and music in large forms.
Liza Lehman (1862–1918), wrote In a Persian Garden, Nonsense Songs, and The Daisy Chain, which made her famous.
“Poldowski,” Lady Dean Paul, daughter of Wieniawski, the Polish composer and violinist, has written piano pieces and lovely songs in Debussy style. She has had considerable influence in getting the work of the younger British composers and her countryman, Szymanowski, heard in London.
Rebecca Clarke, a young Englishwoman, has written several chamber music works which place her in the foremost rank of women composers. On two occasions she received “honorable mention” in the Berkshire chamber music prize competition offered by Mrs. F. S. Coolidge, at Pittsfield, Massachusetts.
We cannot tell you very much about the history of music in Russia because until the 19th century, the Russians had little but their folk songs and church music. For many centuries the Christian priests disliked to have them sing their legends and folk songs because they were not of Christian origin and so music had a very difficult road to go.
Another thing which kept music as an art from growing, was the edict in the Church against the use of instruments. But as there is always a silver lining to every cloud the unaccompanied singing became very lovely.
For ages, then, there was the most strikingly beautiful natural music in the folk tunes of this gigantic country, three times as large as the United States. Its cold bleak steppes or plains and its nearness to the East gave them fascinating and fantastic legends, and a music sad, wild and colorful with strange harmonies—their inheritance from the Slavs and Tartars. All these date back to days before the Christian era, so you can understand even though they are of surpassing beauty, the Church was afraid of the wild, tragic, pagan melodies and rhythms.
In the early 18th century, at the time of and after Peter the Great, there were many Europeans who came to Russia and brought along their music or their own national ideas of music, so that Russia had foreign opera and foreign teachers. When Catharine the Great was Queen she appreciated the wonderful store of folk legends and was very good to composers both Italian and Russian, of whom there were very few.
Very soon, a man from Venice, Catterino Cavos, went over and was clever enough to write Italian opera using the Russian folk songs and legends. This was a fine idea, because it gave suggestions to Russians as to what could be done with their folk songs. The next thing that happened was the terrible defeat of Napoleon, in 1812, by the Russians and the burning of Moscow. When important political things happen and when a favorite city is nearly destroyed, people’s imaginations are stirred and it makes them think about the things of their own land. The Russians were no different from other folks. After the way was prepared by Vertowsky, Dargomyzhsky, and Seroff, Michael Glinka (1804–1857) wrote his opera, A Life For the Tsar, for the time was ripe for serious Russian national music. He was tired of the music of the Italians, introduced into Russia in 1737, and the French music introduced by Boieldieu and others a little after 1800. He made a close study of Russian folk song and of composition, and became the father of the new Russian music. He studied in Leningrad (St. Petersburg) with Charles Mayer and John Field, the Irish composer of nocturnes who found his way into Russia with Clementi. Glinka became an invalid and his travels for his health brought him to Paris where he was very much interested in the works of Berlioz. When he wrote his first opera, he said he wanted the Russians “to feel at home,” and so we see in it the magic background of Russia with the flavor and interest of the Orient. Another opera of his was Ruslan and Ludmilla which also pictures their national life. Besides this, Glinka, in some Spanish caprices, brought Spanish folk songs before the eyes of the musical art world.