JOHANNES BRAHMS

[Fleuron]JOHANNES BRAHMS

[Fleuron]

JOHANNES BRAHMS

The spirit of modern civilization is preëminently a critical one. A vast amount of knowledge and talent is constantly put in its service and it seems as though education had no higher purpose than to enable man to become as early as possible a critic of everything offered for material or spiritual use or enjoyment. In no field have these tendencies become more conspicuous than in the most delicate and complicated art of music. Our generation is brought up not so much for a life-long devotion, study and true appreciation, as for a most premature forming and uttering of opinions as to the merits, and particularly the shortcomings, of any production. Most of our critics, too, work in this wrong direction, instead of preaching that modesty and prudence and earnest devotion which alone enables us to become familiar with new talent or works of a higher order. Goethe accuses critics in general, that they have the habit of ignoring really great things and of showing an unusual interest in mediocrity. He ascribes to them a bad influence upon creative artists, saying that these can only follow the path dictated by their nature, while arrogant criticism, which assumes to prescribe to them how to do or not to do a thing, may destroy them. He doubts whether in modern England, with the criticising daily press, such an astounding appearance as that of a Shakespeare would be possible, and, as an expert, declares that great things can be accomplished only in a state of absolutely undisturbed, innocent, almost somnambulistic creation, attained by complete isolation. That such self-chosen isolation, resting upon a strong personal and artistic character, yet combined with a hearty interest in all human concerns and the most comprehensive general culture, is possible, even in our modern time, and that it can be crowned with most wonderful results, is splendidly shown by the career of Johannes Brahms, whose greatness rests mainly on this unswerving fidelity to his genius in spite of all adverse criticism during the years of his development and attained mastership.

He was born in Hamburg, May 7th, 1833, being the eldest of three children of Johann Brahms, a remarkable musician, who played double bass at the theatre, and Christiane Nissen, a lady of an affectionate, noble character. There was never a doubt as to his becoming a musician. Under the instruction first of O. Cossel and, from his tenth year, of Eduard Marxsen, a most thorough musician and excellent teacher in the sister city Altona, the boy made rapid progress on the piano. Marxsen soon began also to give him theoretical instruction and was at once attracted by the rare keenness of the intellect of his pupil. Indeed, in his first productions he recognized a spirit which convinced him of a profound latent talent. He therefore spared no effort to awaken and guide this talent that his pupil might become another priest of art to “preach in a new way what is high, true and imperishable.”

As a lad of fourteen Brahms played for the first time in public, pieces of his favorite masters, Bach and Beethoven, and original variations on a folk-song, thus showing an early liking not only for popular melodies, but for a musical form which he has cultivated more assiduously and for higher purposes than any other modern composer. Indeed this combination of popular elements with most artistic and complicated forms has perhaps remained the most characteristic feature of Brahms’ music.

After giving a few other concerts, Marxsen kept him for several years from appearing in public, until in 1853 he could send him as a master of his instrument upon his first journey with the Hungarian violin virtuoso Remenyi. In Hanover, where he played much before the king, he met Joachim, who became his life-long friend, and Joachim was especially impressed when Brahms, in one of these concerts with Remenyi, transposed on account of the low pitch of the piano, without any preparation and even without notes, a Beethoven violin sonata, raising it a semitone. Marxsen was not surprised; for years Brahms had been accustomed to transpose great pieces at sight into any key, and so astonishing was his memory, that he never carried notes with him upon a concert trip. The compositions of Beethoven and Bach and a long list of modern concert pieces were safely committed to memory by him. Brahms remained several weeks in Weimar as the guest of Liszt, who delighted in playing the young composer’s manuscripts. Then he parted from Remenyi and went with Joachim’s recommendation to Robert Schumann in Düsseldorf. The impression which his personality, playing, and works made upon the latter was profound. Nothing in his later career, rich in honors and triumphs, can be dearer to his memory than the enthusiastic greeting with which Schumann introduced him to the musical world.

Without some citation from an oft-reprinted article in the “Neue Zeitschrift für Musik” no sketch of Brahms’ life is complete. Schumann greets him as the one whom he had expected to appear to utter the highest ideal expression of his times, claiming the mastership not by a gradual development, but appearing suddenly before us fully equipped as Minerva sprang from the brain of Jupiter. “And 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 violin and piano—string quartets—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 orchestra and chorus lend him their aid, further glimpses of the ideal 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 step into the world of art, where wounds may perhaps await him, but bay and laurel also; we welcome him as a valiant warrior.”

This cordial introduction created quite a sensation, yet it was by no means a guaranty of an enthusiastic reception of the young composer’s works. For, far from being an imitator of Schumann’s style, he appeared at once in his own strong personality and as a stranger, who even in Leipsic was not understood. Yet he found publishers for three pianoforte sonatas, a scherzo, a trio and several songs. For years the interest in him was confined to a small circle. He stayed for a while in Hanover, making from there several concert tours with Joachim or Stockhausen, the great singer, another devoted friend, visiting also Schumann in his retreat in the Endenich hospital. In his variations on a theme from Schumann’s Op. 99, he gave a touching expression to his sympathy with the master’s sufferings. After the publication of these and the ballads Op. 10, Brahms devoted several years to profound study. Schumann’s praise had not spoiled him, nor was he discouraged by the lack of success. For a few seasons he was the director of the orchestra and chorus in Detmold, spending also some time in Hamburg and in travelling. Meanwhile he finished many songs and choruses, two serenades for orchestra, and two sextets. In Jan., 1859, he played in Leipsic his first great pianoforte concerto; most of the criticisms thereon were, however, such as to now excite our mirth. It was in Switzerland and Vienna that his genius found a sincere recognition. 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 Alpine summits and glaciers had great attractions for Brahms, but also the welcome which he was always sure to find in Basel and Zürich. For his permanent home he selected Vienna, in 1862, where he was surrounded by the spirits of the classic masters. He was received most favorably. His interpretation of Bach, Beethoven, Schubert and Schumann was particularly praised. He was appointed chorus master of the Sing-Academie for a season, and prepared a memorable performance of Bach’s Passion Music. Yet his genius would not allow him to devote much time to such services, and once only in later years he accepted a similar appointment, directing from 1872–1875 the concerts of the “Society of the Friends of Music.” Aside from this all his time was devoted to composing, interrupted only by frequent journeys to performances of his works, and by giving valuable assistance in the revision of the works of Couperin, Mozart and Chopin. During the first years of his residence in Vienna he finished many important chamber works, variations, waltzes and Hungarian dances for the pianoforte, and vocal compositions of every kind. The first great success was won by the “German Requiem,” begun after the death of his mother in 1866, and completed, for the greater part, in Switzerland, in the two following years. After the first famous performance in the Bremen Cathedral in the spring of 1868, it was soon heard in other cities and was greatly admired, although certain features were severely criticised. Other works of high importance followed: the “Song of Destiny,” “Rinaldo,” the “Rhapsody,” Op. 53, the “Song of Triumph” for the celebration of the happy ending of the Franco-German war, besides many songs, chamber works, and the charming Love-Song Waltzes. By all these works Brahms rose gradually higher and higher in the general estimation both at home and abroad. But he steadfastly avoided the one field in the reform of which all musical interest seemed to centre,—the opera. Perhaps the time will come when we may be fully informed as to his relation to dramatic music and the reasons which kept him away from the stage. Much might be guessed. But it is needless to pay attention to mere rumors and suppositions. There were other fields in which he was called upon to achieve great things. Nothing shows better the greatness of Brahms’ artistic character than the fact that, in spite of Schumann’s prophecy and many early instrumental masterpieces, he waited with his first symphony until he was a man of over forty years. Four great symphonies have appeared between 1876 and 1885, preceded by orchestral variations on a theme of Haydn; also, during the same time, two overtures, a second pianoforte concerto, one for violin, two smaller choruses with orchestra, chamber works, piano pieces and songs. Another great choral composition, “Deutsche Fest-und Gedenksprüche,” a double concerto for violin and violoncello, Gipsy songs and many other vocal and chamber works complete the list of his more recent compositions. And more great things may be expected from him. If there is anything inspiring in the present aspect of musical art, it is the fact that Johannes Brahms is still among us, physically and mentally as strong as if perpetual youth were granted to him. Indeed, the graces and heroes have not only kept watch at his cradle, but guided him throughout his long career.

JOHANNES BRAHMS.In early youth.

Those who have met him will never forget the impression of his strong personality. Nor will those who saw him conduct or heard him play ever enter into the superfluous discussion whether he was a great leader of orchestra and chorus or a master of his instrument. For in both directions he was not only equal to the most exacting demands, but always appeared as if inspired, and inspiring everybody who sang or played under him or listened to the genius of his music. At the pianoforte and the conductor’s desk he is a king, but socially he appears unaffected and easy, neither reticent nor predominating in conversation, jolly and kind among friends and children. He has never married. Many honors have been conferred upon him: the degrees of Doctor of Music by the University of Cambridge, England, in 1877, and of Doctor of Philosophy by the Breslau University in 1879; also several orders and the membership of many societies and institutes. Throughout the musical world his music, especially his instrumental works, is now received with enthusiasm, although still finding a strong opposition on the part of many critics of either too conservative or too progressive tendencies. Yet the time is not far distant when it will be generally granted a high position in the history of our art.

Fac-simile autograph manuscript of Canon by Brahms. “An Album Leaf.”

Fac-simile autograph letter from Johannes Brahms to Karl Klauser.

Three prominent characteristics of Brahms’ works command our admiration. From the start he appeared as a strong individuality, and notwithstanding a leaning towards Bach’s polyphonic art and harmonic wealth, Beethoven’s virile pathos and ideality of purpose, and Schubert’s melodic charm, he has spoken his own distinct language. In every field of composition except the opera he has contributed masterpieces which show that in each he has to-day no superior, and in but few an equal. Throughout he impresses us by the fact that to him art has always been something sacred, worthy of highest effort and noblest purpose. In this respect one may well compare him to Bach or Beethoven or Schiller, of whom Goethe so beautifully said, that “far behind him lay that which conquers us all,—vulgarity.” Whoever honestly strives for the sympathy of his genius must be filled with a like earnest spirit, willing to be guided by his subtle art into ideal regions full of higher joys than common musical amusements afford.

The wealth of his melodic, rhythmic and harmonic invention is truly astonishing; his combinations are so new and often intricate, the thematic material so rich or peculiar, its development so elaborate, that it is a commonly expressed opinion that his music has to do more with the intellect than with imagination and feeling. The truth is, that no modern composer has expressed deeper and more fervent feelings, either jubilant or sad, than Brahms. His great intellect only guides the wealth of emotion in order to find a well balanced, wholly original and artistic construction for the creatures of his rich imagination. And he is an eminently modern composer; with all his so-called conservative tendencies there is hardly a page in his works which could have been written at an earlier stage of musical art. Familiar with all the subtleties of modern expression and innovations of harmony, rhythm, and instrumentation, he has himself introduced many new and bold features.

To speak in detail of the one hundred and fifteen published works of Brahms would require a space far beyond the limits of this sketch. Thus only a summary classification is possible. Looking first at the instrumental compositions, one cannot praise Brahms too highly, that in opposition to prevailing tendencies towards a neglect of cyclic forms in favor of free, rhapsodic or programmatic fantasias, he has cultivated the former with supreme devotion, enriching and modifying them in many ways, but so that they still appear as worthy representatives of their types.

The three pianoforte sonatas and the Scherzo Op. 4 reveal the cardinal features of his later chamber and orchestral works: a most excellent thematic material, consisting often of but a few notes, awakening highest expectations; a rich, ingenious development, always coherent and logical; a Beethovenish virility; distinct contrasts and wonderful climaxes in the lively opening and closing movements, usually beginning directly with the principal subject, the working-out section being especially interesting and elaborate, the coda often of rare charm; the slow movements of delicate or intense, always noble feeling, in the form of variations or a long cantilena; the scherzos on a large plan, in three-four or six-eight time, very spirited, with a quieter trio preceding the finale, except in No. 3, where a short intermezzo is interpolated. Everywhere we note an ample and effective use of syncopations, a peculiar style of accompaniments, bold modulations and rhythmic devices, occasionally even some programmatic suggestions. Few masters have shown such originality and maturity in their first works.

Of independent pianoforte variations there are sixteen on a touching theme of Schumann, eleven on a beautiful original theme, thirteen on a Hungarian theme (with a combination of three-four and four-four time), twenty-five splendid variations on a short theme of Handel ending with a great fugue, some very difficult variations on a theme of Paganini, and—in a more romantic spirit—nine for four hands on that peculiar theme which Schumann had received “from the spirits of Schubert and Mendelssohn.” Some of these important works have a suggestive and refined sentimental character, others are virtuoso pieces of the highest order. As regards free conception of the variation form and variety of construction and mood, Brahms goes decidedly farther than Beethoven or Schumann. He seems inexhaustible in this form, which he used later most ingeniously also in chamber and orchestra works. The four poetic ballads Op. 10, the capriccios and intermezzos Op. 76 and two Rhapsodies Op. 79 are fine concert pieces of a freer but always coherent style, often very difficult. More popular are the famous Hungarian dances (fascinating settings of melodies, the authorship of which Brahms has never claimed), which he has orchestrated and arranged for four hands. His waltzes Op. 39, also for four hands, are short character-pieces of a bright, graceful or passionate spirit, in certain features recalling Schubert and Schumann, yet so original that they have been much imitated by younger composers. Several piano works for technical study (after Weber, Chopin and Bach), and fine arrangements of most of his chamber works and orchestra serenades and of a gavotte of Gluck may at least be mentioned. The difficulties of his pianoforte style, so rich in polyphonic figuration, harmonic and rhythmic combinations, syncopations, and wide stretches, especially abound in the two seldom-played concertos. Yet, without the highest appreciation and sympathetic devotion, the greatest virtuosity would never be able to make their inner life clear.

Like a giant appears the early written D minor concerto. Quick modulations, syncopations, chains of trills and a Beethovenish importance of themes and development impress us mightily in the passionate first movement, divine sweetness in the long adagio, while the finale, with its fantasia-like cadenza, rises from a simple mood to the acme of enthusiasm. The B flat concerto Op. 83 has even four movements, the long and romantic opening allegro being followed by an allegro appassionato of a superior scherzo character, the delightful andante by a highly effective allegro grazioso as finale. In spite of the elaborate development and the variety of contrasting moods, the whole work retains a bright and inspiring character. In both concertos the important and richly scored symphonic accompaniment only raises the solo part to greater prominence.

A fugue and a choral prelude with fugue are Brahms’ only but significant compositions for the organ.

The chamber works secure our master a place of honor beside the greatest representatives of this high branch of composition; they comprise three sonatas for violin and two for violoncello and pianoforte, five pianoforte trios (one with horn and one with clarinet), three string quartets, three pianoforte quartets, three string quintets (one with clarinet), one pianoforte quintet and two string sextets. In the older works one feels often the struggle of a great soul with strong passions, longings, hopes and anxieties, joys and pains, yet not lacking in sunshine and humor, while in the more recent compositions a quieter, more contemplative spirit prevails. The classic arrangement of four movements forms the rule, most of them being very elaborate and extensive, rich in themes of importance and beauty, the working out and coda showing Brahms’ genius in the finest light, the treatment of the different instruments being throughout masterly. The complicated development often prevents an immediate enjoyment, but increases our desire for a closer acquaintance; for this counterpoint goes always hand in hand with true feeling. In the opening movements the first part is not always repeated, and other novel features are introduced; the slow movements in the form of variations or of a long developed cantilena often lift us into high and unwonted regions; the scherzos are so full of genius that one wonders why Brahms has not used this form in his symphonies. The finales are of the highest order, seldom reached by other modern composers. In the works with horn and clarinets these much neglected instruments have received a wonderful treatment in music of great beauty. Unusual and complicated rhythms appear frequently, but treated in a surprisingly easy way. The details are throughout deeply interesting, yet often strange, even the most peaceful movements requiring closest attention. If one of all these great works must be distinguished as the greatest, we would name the pianoforte quintet in F minor, Op. 34. Yet the very latest work, the clarinet quintet, shows the same freshness and originality of invention, wonderful thematic net-work, variety of distinctly expressed moods, and the finale displaying an unsurpassed skill in variations.

The two orchestra serenades are real gems of spirited, delightful, well constructed music, one being for complete orchestra, the other for violas, ’celli, basses, reed instruments and horns. Besides the lively first and last movements and adagios they contain each a scherzo and one of them two minuets.

The theme for the nine orchestra variations Op. 56 is taken from one of Haydn’s divertimenti for wind instruments. They crown Brahms’ glorious achievements in the writing of variations; for, far from being “mere algebraic experiments,” they are delightful and ingenious tone pictures of distinct character and mood, with a nearer or more remote relation to the principal theme. The composer has thus initiated a new field of independent orchestral music, already successfully followed by others. The instrumentation is prominently interesting. It is generally admitted that Brahms is very conservative compared with Wagner and Berlioz in the matter of instrumentation. At least he never allows orchestral colors to divert our attention from the higher, inner meaning of a work. Yet in this score and in all his other works for or with orchestra, there are many features either of wonderful brilliancy or peculiar colors, which as novelties are worth studying. The finale, built upon a much repeated bass figure, successively joined by the different groups of the orchestra with other themes, reaches a beautiful climax in the pompous return of the original melody.

JOHANNES BRAHMS.From an engraving by Weger, after a photograph from life.

The four symphonies in C minor, D, F and E minor are justly regarded as the most important orchestral works of our generation. Much is still written against them, and not everybody is willing or able to share the enthusiasm which their good performance arouses among the majority of cultivated audiences. Yet nothing can shake their high position among all symphonic works written since the great master of the immortal Ninth has left this earth. They have each a very individual character and, although in the main the old form is retained, new features are to be found in almost every movement. The first symphony opens with an impressive sostenuto introduction, the others begin at once with the principal subject of the allegro. Usually the first part of the latter is brought to a formal close and repeated; only in the fourth symphony, so rich in thematic material, no repetition occurs, but a very elaborate working out prepares for the climax reached in the concentrated recapitulation. Everywhere noble themes are finely contrasted, wonderfully developed, wholly or in fragments, in the working out, so as to hold the listener in breathless suspense. The allegros of the first and second symphonies have particularly fine codas. The slow movements are not very extensive and are easily enjoyed, their quieter and lofty mood being but little disturbed. However, the adagio in No. 2 is more complicated, has richer material, more frequent changes of key and rhythm, a more elaborate figure work and a peculiarly intimate spirit. A remarkable innovation is the consequent substitution for a minuet or scherzo of a sort of intermezzo, full of grace, sunshine and innocent playfulness, hardly disturbed by more serious episodes. Most extended is this in No. 4, a rondo with themes of an almost grotesque character, surprising details in their development and a spirit of true Beethoven-like humor. Yet those of the first three symphonies are of no less importance, having two distinct parts, of which the second one (contrary to the older trio) has a livelier character. Especially that of No. 2 is one of the most delightful orchestral pieces of modern literature. That Brahms is indeed a symphonist of the highest rank, is particularly evident in his finales. That of No. 1 is conceived in the grandest spirit, opened by a solemn introduction of overwhelming beauty and impressiveness, the allegro based on themes of rare inspiration, their wonderful development rising from climax to climax like a great triumphal procession. Still the finale of No. 2 is not less inspiring; even more brilliant, with its glorious themes, the splendid instrumentation and exciting coda. In No. 3 the closing movement has the unusual minor key, is less dithyrambic, yet not lacking in life, a choral-like episode forming a fine contrast, and the whole ending happily in a long, quiet coda in F major with a poetic reminiscence of the principal subject of the opening movement. One may justly regard the finale of No. 4 as a musical wonder, a new experiment gloriously carried out. It has the shape of a passacaglia, an old dance constructed upon a ground bass. The theme consists of eight bars, each represented by a chord, and is treated in about thirty variations of the most ingenious contrapuntal devices, greatly contrasted, yet so coherently that it sounds like an uninterrupted logical development, holding our interest keenly alive and increasing our enjoyment till the splendid end is reached.

We have thus seen how many strong features Brahms has introduced in the symphonic form, without departing from its classic foundation; but it is still more important that as a genius of a superior mind and noble soul he had the right material in himself to fill this greatest form of instrumental music with an adequate and original inner life, reflecting the highest spirit of modern German civilization.

The characteristic feature of the Academic Festival Overture is the successive introduction of several German student melodies, not in the form of a potpourri, as it has been unjustly regarded, but as themes developed with consummate art, expressing the inspiration of a solemn festival, of loyalty to the fatherland, of merrymaking and youthful exultation. Every page shows the hand of a superior master. Still greater is the tragic overture, its spirit reflecting a heroic struggle, gloom, solemnity, but also hope and comfort; its form being particularly interesting by an ingenious combination of the working out and recapitulation into a sort of free, yet coherent, wonderfully constructed and deeply impressive fantasia.

How much we should like to speak in detail of the two concertos for violin and for violin and ’cello! It would be a misnomer to call them symphonies with obligato solo parts, notwithstanding the very elaborate orchestral score, but more incorrect to compare them with any virtuoso concertos. Enormous technical difficulties are to be conquered in the service of high musical purposes. The arrangement is after the classic model, in three movements. Of these the slow movements with their melodic breadth are the more enjoyable, while the extensive outer movements, with their rich development of peculiarly fine and original themes, require repeated hearings to reveal all their innate beauty and greatness. And these works, too, belong to the future and can afford to await their time for a general appreciation.

Brahms’ earlier chorus works are an Ave Maria for female chorus and orchestra, a funeral chant with wind instruments, four female choruses with harp and two horns, seven Marianan songs, a setting of the 23d Psalm for female chorus and organ, several motets and part songs for four, five or six voices, sacred songs, and twelve romances for female chorus, partly with piano accompaniment. Now and then we are reminded of the style of Palestrina or old German folk-songs, then again of Bach’s polyphonic art with fugues, simple and double canons, yet throughout of a new, peculiar mode of expression, full of poetic sentiment. Among the works of later years we mention two motets, which are praised as Brahms’ highest achievements in polyphonic writing, seven songs for mixed voices, and many arrangements of old German folk-songs.

The German Requiem is of such great importance, that without a knowledge of it neither a full estimation of Brahms’ individual genius nor of the significance of the latest epoch of music in general can be obtained. Taking from the old Latin funeral mass only the name, Brahms selected certain verses from the Bible, expressing not only the sadness and terror of death and judgment, but also hope and consolation,—even thankfulness and praise. His work, independent of any church service and to be sung in a living language, contains in each note music which came from the depth of a noble soul and was written by a master of the highest and most complicated field of vocal composition. Entirely free from conventionalities or dry learning, each of the seven numbers gives completely what his genius was able to accomplish. It is indeed the great funeral chant of modern music, at least for Germans and Protestants. Choruses I., IV., V. and VII. have a quiet character, finely expressing the milder feelings above mentioned, yet with all their seeming simplicity showing a consummate art in the details of their construction, No. V. being mainly given to a difficult soprano solo. No. II. (“Behold all flesh is as the grass”) is a peculiar funeral march in three-four time, the chorus singing partly in unison to strange and impressive orchestral music; after a touching animato (“Be patient unto the coming of Christ”) the principal melody is repeated, followed by a long fugue (“The redeemed of the Lord shall return again”). No. III. opens with a baritone solo, lamenting the frailty of life, soon joined by the chorus, rising to a climax expressive of hope. Then follows that famous fugue, in an astonishingly rich polyphonic treatment, moving over an uninterrupted, much criticised pedal point on D to emphasize the words, that “the righteous souls are in the hand of God.” No. VI. is regarded as the culmination of the work. After the chorus’ lament that “Here on earth we have no continuing place,” comfort is brought by the baritone voice unfolding the mystery of the resurrection. The chorus repeat this and burst out in an ecstatic vivace, “The trumpet shall sound, the dead shall be raised!...” “... Grave, where is thy victory, death, where is thy sting?” In wonderful modulations climax after climax is reached; finally in glorious C major a double fugue is added, a hymn of praise to “the Lord of honor and might,” whose proportion, art and impressiveness alone suffice to make Brahms a compeer of the greatest masters of polyphonic music. Throughout, chorus, orchestra and soloists have to overcome the greatest difficulties, but seldom are their efforts directed to more ideal purposes.

JOHANNES BRAHMS.From a photograph from life by Fr. Luckhardt, Vienna.

For the “Song of Triumph” Brahms selected some mysterious verses from the Apocalypse. Of the three large numbers for double chorus, orchestra and organ, some portions have been called direct imitations of Handel; yet even there one finds enough of Brahms’ individuality and throughout an intense heartiness and directness of feeling. In singing this music, one is overwhelmed by its grandeur. The second number, more purely Brahms’, is of particular beauty, the chorus “Let us rejoice” being joined by a cantus firmus of the wood instruments on the choral “Now, thank ye all the Lord!” In No. III., opened by a baritone solo, an enthusiasm is reached in the Hallelujah surpassing any jubilant chorus music written since the Ninth Symphony.

The “Deutsche Fest-und Gedenksprüche” have a uniform patriotic purpose. There are again three large and most difficult numbers for double chorus, without solo or accompaniment. No. I. refers to the battle of Leipsic in 1813 and the regained liberty from the Napoleonic bondage (“Our fathers hoped in thee, thou helpedst them,” etc.), and has an imposing character of resolution and vigor. No. II., referring to the collapse of the French in 1870, illustrates in lively contrasting colors “a palace guarded by one strongly armed and remaining in peace” and “an empire that falls in discord and becomes waste.” No. III. praises the splendor of the new united empire, but warns its people “to beware and guard thy soul well, that it shall never forget the story which thine eyes have seen.” A deeply religious spirit also pervades this great and but little known work.

The Rhapsody for alto solo, male chorus and orchestra treats a portion of Goethe’s “Journey through the Hartz in Winter.” Once in 1777 the poet left a hunting party to pay an incognito visit to a young admirer of his genius, who was in a Wertherish despondent condition of mind. The impression received by this adventure gave rise to one of his deepest yet somewhat mysterious poems, which inspired Brahms to one of his greatest works. The opening orchestral sounds touch our inmost heart; sighs and the anguish of a trembling soul is their spirit; then the solo voice in tones of intense feeling asks for comfort for one “who from the fullness of love drank hate of man and in loneliness devours all that hath worth in him.” A peculiar combination of three-two and six-four time illustrates finely this anguish and restlessness. Gradually the music becomes more quiet, till with a harp-like accompaniment, chorus and soloist sing a hymn of indescribable beauty and loftiness, imploring “the all-loving Father to enlighten the heart of the unfortunate, if but one tone from his psalter can reach His ears.” The solo part requires a truly inspired musician, whose voice is the instrument of his soul. The short chorus is also a difficult task. Many times has the writer heard this heavenly work, but never without its repetition being demanded and given. Yet how little known it is in this country!

An extensive work for male chorus with tenor solo and orchestra is the cantata “Rinaldo,” the text being again from Goethe. It deals with a romantic story from Tasso’s “Jerusalem Delivered,” has partly a solemn, partly a lively dramatic character and breathes the refreshing air of the sea. The more or less extensive and elaborate choruses are very different from the conventional style, the solo part is unusually difficult and so exacting that an adequate performance is seldom secured.

In three works Brahms has illustrated the relentlessness of Fate, selecting poems of almost Greek grandeur and beauty. Hölderlin’s “Song of Destiny” contrasts the blessed abode of the divine spirits with the fate of the “restless, grief-laden mortals, who blindly wander from one sad hour to another.” Schiller’s “Nänie” mourns “that even the Beautiful fades and the Highest must die,” and “The Song of the Fates,” from Goethe’s “Iphigenia,” warns the human race “to fear the gods, doubly those whom they have exalted, for they turn from entire races the light of their eyes.” The last work is for six, the others for four chorus voices. Everywhere the orchestra is important, rich in weird, characteristic effects. Bold modulations and rhythmic combinations always in keeping with the composer’s high conception of the poetry affect deeply ear and heart. Who but Brahms could have found music so worthy of such profound poetical subjects! In the “Song of Destiny” he even surpasses the poet by repeating at the end the wonderful orchestral introduction indicating hope for our own final attainment of the abode of the blessed spirits. The “Nänie” is dedicated to the mother of the lamented painter Feuerbach, who had been a true art companion of Brahms. Only a careful, sympathetic rendering will reveal the beauty of this work. In the “Song of the Fates” there is a movement of a quiet, melodious character, which many critics have declared to be entirely contrary to the meaning of the text. To us it seems more like a well justified, touching expression of pious submission, wonderfully calming our excitement for the mysterious ending with its harmonies and orchestral sounds never heard before.

Brighter is the character of some works belonging to a field which Schumann had specially cultivated, yet where Brahms shows again such originality that he has been much imitated. His delightful vocal quartets with piano accompaniment, graceful and bright or deep and gloomy, charm greatly by their artistic construction, beauty of thought, feeling and sound and peculiarity of colors. Still more famous are the two collections of Love-Song Waltzes for voices and piano for four hands, resembling the sparkling pianoforte waltzes Op. 39, most varying in shape and mood, the words being mainly from Daumer’s “Polydora,” those of the fine, quiet closing movement in nine-four time being selected from Goethe. The eleven Gipsy Songs Op. 102 are also meeting with an enthusiastic reception, Hungarian spirit and rhythm giving them a peculiar color, the moods being either humorous or passionate, melancholy or exuberant, quartets alternating with solos, the accompaniment being as elaborate as it is effective.

Of the twenty highly remarkable duets some have, in spite of many harmonic and rhythmic finesses, quite a plain character, while others are very elaborate, the voices either joining or alternating. As particularly typical we mention “The Seas,” “The Nun and the Knight,” “The Sisters,” “The Messengers of Love,” “Edward,” and “Let us wander.”

Finally we have reached the field in which Brahms has been especially fertile and original, his “Lieder.” To speak of them only in a general way is difficult indeed. Thirty-one of the published 115 works contain nearly 200 songs. Throughout his whole career Brahms has been writing songs; there was in his soul a lyric element, kindled again and again by the beauty of feeling, thought and diction of the great German poets, and he found a style of song-writing so independent, that in spite of some more or less striking exceptions one can hardly trace his relation to Schubert, Schumann and Franz. He is their equal as regards wealth of invention, noble conception of the text, finishing of details. Yet in treatment of the voice, relation between vocal and instrumental part, and construction of the latter he opens a new path. In the selection of poems he shows eminent knowledge and taste. Many half-forgotten poems of a superior order he has awakened to fresh life; others, which on account of their peculiar metre or meaning have been avoided, have found in him an unexpectedly effective interpreter. However, it seems to us as if the poems often suffer transformation. They have inspired the composer with certain tone-pictures, which in turn impose upon them very distinctly the spirit of his own strong individuality. This individuality is by no means always deep and heavy, for smiles and dancing are no strangers to it. Often the melodies are as plain as folk-songs, but always of great nobility. With a few notes the composer reaches our hearts and lifts us at once into a higher region. Other melodies again are as elaborate as a dramatic scene. The accompaniment, inexhaustible in forms, yet never conventional, simple or with great harmonic wealth and peculiar figuration, rivals the singer in expressing the moods of the poem. Of the so-called folk-songs (old German, Swiss, Bohemian, Scotch, Italian, etc.) some are treated most artistically, others with a touching simplicity. Very few poems composed by other masters are found among his list, and the favorite poets Heine, Eichendorff, Chamisso are almost avoided. A remarkable exception is the separately published “Moon-night,” very different from Schumann’s jewel song, yet not inferior. Goethe, Hölty, Platen, Tieck, Schenkendorf, Groth and Möricke are fully represented, often by poems of an antique spirit and form. Keller, Daumer, Heyse, Schack, Herder and many others inspired Brahms too, and it is noteworthy that he had no music for meaningless trivialities. The majority of these songs are devoted to love in all possible phases and moods, often wonderfully reflected in scenes of nature. There is perhaps more of twilight and autumn than of sunshine and spring, but exultant and happy moods are well represented,—also flowers, birds, woods, oceans and storms and the stillness of the fields,—but all these more in a symbolic than realistic conception and with a wonderful coloring of the prevailing mood. The sweet little “Cradle song,” “Erinnerung,” “Minnelied,” “Wie bist du, meine Königin?” “Meine Liebe ist grün,” “Von ewiger Liebe,” “Ruhe, Süssliebchen,” “Mainacht,” “Vergebliches Ständchen” are only a few familiar jewels among the rich collection; how many more deserve the same sympathy and study from singers with noble artistic ambitions! Special mention is due to the two fine songs for alto with viola obligato Op. 91 and to the fifteen romances from Tieck’s half-forgotten fairy tale “Die schöne Magelone,” which have a most elaborate form and an intensely emotional character. Nowhere indeed can one get a better estimate of Brahms’ high significance as a song writer than here, where the poet appears like a dwarf in the light of the composer’s higher genius.

Greatness indeed remains Brahms’ characteristic feature, wherever we look at him or at his works; greatness in ideas, purposes and powers; greatness in self-criticism and faithfulness to the dignity of his art; greatness in the devotion to past masters and independence of contemporary influences; greatness in the sincerity and simplicity of his manners and relation to the outer world. Never appearing as a revolutionary spirit, yet he has himself introduced many strong innovations in various fields, and for a long time his works will not only afford profound enjoyment to earnest lovers of our art, but be a source of the most valuable studies for those to whom its further development will be entrusted. Long has he been ignored, patiently has he waited, till the world has come to him to respect in him the noblest musical genius of our time.

Louis Keeserborn

CARL GOLDMARKReproduction of a photograph from life, made by J. Löwy in Vienna.

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