CHAPTER V.

The present program brings together a few representative selections from the two greatest masters already noticed, for the purpose of bringing out more clearly the individualities of their style and the predominant flavor of their work. In this comparison we are not as yet undertaking to represent either Bach or Beethoven in their moments of greatest and most impassioned abandon. The so-called "Moonlight Sonata" approaches this point in the case of Beethoven, but if it had been desired to perform the same service for Bach larger works would have been taken, such as the "Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue," the "Fantasia and Fugue in G minor" for organ (arranged for piano by Liszt), and the like. And for Beethoven the sonatas in F minor, opus 57, "Appassionata," the opus 106 in B-flat, and opus 111 in C minor. All these go much farther in the untrammeled expression of deep feeling than any of the works brought together upon the present program, even the "Moonlight Sonata," although the finale of this is distinctly representative of Beethoven in the impassioned and strong. As for Mozart, this headlong passion was not at all in his line. But for the sake of showing the peculiar sweetness of his imagination in contrast with the more concentrated expression customary with Bach and Beethoven, his Fantasia in C minor is here included.

Before entering upon the actual acquaintance with the works in the program, it is advisable for the hearer to be disabused at the outset of certain prepossessions likely to be harmful. The most important of these is that which regards Bach as having had a higher idea of his art than later composers had, and of having intended to illustrate in his works a very high degree of skill, contrapuntal cleverness, and the like. This prepossession is included in the phrase which describes all serious music as "classical," as contradistinguished from that which is merely beautiful and pleasing.

Bach had, indeed, great originality, but he came by it honestly. His mental activity in musical directions was of such a spontaneous character that immediately a theme presented itself all sorts of possible treatment occurred to him. If the theme pleased him he immediately began to develop it, and in the course of this one happy thought after another presented itself, without having been sought for or worked out in the slightest. Thus his highest and largest works have a good deal the character of play, so easily were they composed. True, they do not present to the player of the present day nearly so much of this quality, for the technic required to play them well is not quite that of the ordinary pianist. Bach expects the hands to play melodiously and very fluently, and the player to think in fugue;i.e., be able to follow the answering voices in a fugue without becoming confused when there are three, four, or five, and without losing any one of the threads. This habit of thought—for this is what it amounts to—is not natural to the present generation, since nearly all our music is more or less monodic (having one leading melody and an accompaniment.) Therefore the art of playing Bach has to be diligently mastered by much playing and a great deal of hard study.

PROGRAM.Bach, Prelude and Fugue in C-sharp major.  Clavier, No. 3.Beethoven, Sonata in C-sharp minor ("Moonlight"), opus 27, No. 2.Bach, Fantasia in C minor.Mozart, Fantasia in C minor (from Sonata and Fantasia).Bach, Allegro from Italian Concerto.Beethoven, Sonata in E minor, opus 90.Bach, Prelude and Fugue in G major.  Clavier, No. 15.Beethoven, Sonata in D minor (Shakspere's "Tempest"), opus 31, No. 2.

Every art-work, in whatever line, has to satisfy three prime conditions: unity, symmetry, and variety. There can not be an impression of beauty into which these three qualities do not at the same time enter, but the beauty will differ in quality according as one or the other element preponderates. In the successful music of Johann Sebastian Bach (and he wrote unsuccessful music as well as other men) we find all these qualities represented, but not in the modern way. A prelude or a fugue of Bach is essentially a "monody," a composition of one idea, which preponderates so decidedly as to enforce its character and individuality upon the work; nay, it is the work. Variety and symmetry are always present, but the variety is to be found in the modulatory treatment and in the counterpoint—the various accessory ideas which appear in the course of the work for better setting off the leading idea forming the substance of the composition. Hence we have in Bach, along with a unity which pervaded every single idea and every succession of ideas, a variety also going on at the same time (as in the melody of the different voices, rhythm, etc.); and symmetry, which also expresses itself as between ideas heard simultaneously and between ideas and paragraphs introduced successively. A Bach work, therefore, is rather complicated almost always, and needs to be studied a little, and the art of hearing it appreciatively has to be acquired; but once we have mastered it, there are no works in music which are more fresh or permanently pleasing.

The Bach selections upon the present program include three preludes and fugues, those of C-sharp major, C minor, and G major, all from the first volume of the "Clavier." There is no necessary connection between the prelude and the fugue following, except that in Bach's idea they somehow corresponded or contrasted in such a manner that they could be heard agreeably in connection.

The prelude in C-sharp, which opens the program, consists of a long leading idea (eight measures) which is repeated completely six times in the course of the work. After it has been heard four times,—in the keys of C-sharp, G-sharp, D-sharp minor, and A-sharp minor,—it is relieved by a modulatory interlude, constructed out of new material (measures 33 to 46). Then the original theme is resumed in the subdominant of the principal key (F-sharp major) and is given entire in the original key of C-sharp, the repetition being exact. In measure 63 the conclusion begins. It consists of a pedal point upon G-sharp, treated very pleasantly, and relieved and developed in measures 75 to 91 by interesting matter of a more impassioned character. At measure 91 the pedal figure returns, and is abandoned only at measure 101, after which the end speedily follows. (Before playing the piece have the parts played and explained separately, each division as here marked, and then the whole prelude entire.) The work as a whole is singularly light and pleasing.

The fugue is built upon the subject in the soprano at the beginning, running two measures. This subject is repeated entire ten times, and fragments are used over and over again.

In immediate contrast with this work is placed the so-called "Moonlight Sonata"—the title affixed not by Beethoven but by some fanciful writer. The first movement of this is quite as much a monody as anything of Bach's, but with a difference. Little is attempted in the way of modifying the harmony of the theme except to carry it through several different keys, nor is there much accessory matter employed as filling. It is practically a song,—an ode if you like,—of a melancholy, grieving character. Its structure will be understood by aid of the following analysis: It begins with a prelude of four measures, after which the leading idea enters in the key of C-sharp minor, closing in E-major, four measures. After a measure of accompaniment the subject resumes in C major, proceeding immediately to B minor, after a cadence in which an accessory melodic bit is introduced, having the character of suspending the action, eight measures, ending in F-sharp minor. The leading idea now enters in F-sharp, five measures, and three little melodic bits followed by eleven measures of arpeggio matter hold back the action for the return of the theme in measure 42 (first accent in 43). Everything in this movement grows out of the leading melody, and the movement has no skeleton or orderly arrangement of parts except in a very general manner.

The allegretto which follows is practically a sort of scherzo, in song-form with trio. Then comes the very dramatic finale, consisting of three main elements handled in the style of a sonata-piece. The Principal extends to the first beat of the twentieth measure. On the second beat of this the Second enters and runs twenty-three measures. With the second eighth note of this measure a movement of eighth notes in chords enters, which forms the concluding piece. This carries us to the double bar, after which a free fantasia follows upon the same material. The free fantasia extends to two measures of whole notes, thirty-six measures in all, where the original theme returns and the first part is recalled in different keys. At the end there is an added coda of thirty-four measures counting from the end of the piece.

The Prelude in G major of Bach is another pleasing illustration of his manner. It is very simple in construction and needs only to have the first two measures and a half played in advance for defining the subject, and the fourth measure once, to define the second leading idea. Everything else is developed out of these ideas. In measure 11 some new material is introduced and treated with excellent effect.

The fugue is rather an elaborate one. After the subject has been carried through the first time, the subject is introduced in a new form, in inversion (measure 43, alto), all ascending passages in the original being now imitated in downward directions and by the same interval. This taken as a new subject affords ground for much additional development, and later on the fugue becomes very complicated and interesting. When well played, however, the complication is only an incident of a very playful and varied composition. In the entire work there is no lyrical idea; everything comes thematically.

In the Beethoven sonata which I have chosen for contrast, D minor, opus 31, No. 2, the thematic mode of construction is also marked, but the contrast of subjects is very much greater than in the Bach work, and the effect of the whole impassioned to a high degree. Beginning with a slow arpeggio chord (two measures) the first theme follows only to be interrupted in the sixth measure. In the seventh the Principal subject is resumed, and in measure 10 a new motive appears in the vigorously ascending bass theme, which is immediately answered by a soprano counter theme, measures 11, 12, 14. This carries us forward to measure 30, where an episode comes in not unrelated to the first theme, and again in measure 44 a passage of chords practically forming a pedal point, and the conclusion proper in measure 55. In the elaboration these themes are delightfully treated, and the entire movement has much the character of an improvisation. The slow movement continues the rhapsodical spirit of the first movement. The finale is one of the most delightful examples of charming effect reached by means of composition essentially thematic.

The Sonata, opus 90, in E, is one of the most pleasing of Beethoven, and, aside from a certain figure in tenths for the bass (measures 55 to 58, and again later on), it presents no serious difficulties for the player. The second movement is a delightful song, which is carried out at great length.

The first movement of Bach's Italian concerto is much more modern in style than the other pieces of Bach in this program. Without ever quite reaching the modern conception of the lyric, it at least approaches it closely at times, and produces a beautiful effect.

Of the Mozart fantasia there is not room to speak in detail. Note, however, the very clever modulatory treatment of the leading idea in the first two pages, and the entrance of the lovely slow melody in D major near the end of the second page. The latter is Mozart-like in the extreme.

Born January 31, 1797, at Lichtenthal, near Vienna.Died November 19, 1828, at Vienna.

Franz Peter Schubert, the great song-writer, was born, the son of a parish schoolmaster, at Lichtenthal, near Vienna. The family was musical, and the father and a few of his friends used to hold quartet parties every Sunday afternoon, at which the works for string quartet then current were played, also compositions by Haydn and other good composers. The boy very early showed such talent that his father taught him the violin, and occasionally allowed him to take part with the rest. He had a beautiful soprano voice, which, attracting the attention of the director of the music at St. Stephen's Cathedral, secured him admission to the choir and to the Imperial Convict, or school for educating the choristers for the Court-chapel, where, besides the usual branches of education, he was taught music thoroughly. This continued until his voice broke, whereupon he was turned out to shift for himself. For the three years next following he assisted his father in the school, teaching the lowest class in it, and proved himself, it is pretty certain, a very indifferent teacher. Later he resigned this position, and struggled on during his short life mainly by the assistance of friends, one of whom saw to it that the indefatigable composer was supplied with music paper; another shared his room with him, etc. Between 1818 and 1824 he spent his summers at the Hungarian estate of the great Prince Esterhazy, teaching the daughters music and arranging music for the household. Here many of his works were written. In Vienna he had an orchestra of school-boys for quite a long time, which probably played his works occasionally, as well as those of composers of less complicated works.

Franz Schubert, Felix MendelssohnFranz Schubert, Felix Mendelssohn

Franz Schubert, Felix MendelssohnFranz Schubert, Felix Mendelssohn

Schubert began to compose in earnest very early, and by the time he was twenty years of age he had written about 400 of his songs. His works comprise a volume of pianoforte sonatas, several volumes of light works for piano, about 600 songs, nine symphonies, of which two are among the greatest we have, one opera, several masses, and a large number of compositions for chamber music.

Born February 3, 1809, at Hamburg.Died November 4, 1847, at Leipsic.

He was the nephew of the celebrated Jewish philosopher and reformer, Moses Mendelssohn, and a son of the well-known banker, Abraham Mendelssohn.

The family was Israelitish, but Felix Mendelssohn was brought up a Lutheran. The boy was of a very amiable and thoughtful disposition, and was well instructed in music from his earliest years, his principal teacher having been the celebrated theorist, Zelter. His first appearance in concert was made at the age of nine, in the piano part of a trio by Wolf. A year later he appeared as a singer. His acquaintance with the orchestra commenced very early. There was a small orchestra which met at his father's house on Sunday afternoons, and by this means the compositions of the boy were tried and he himself acquired his experience as a director. His activity as a composer commenced about 1820. In this year he wrote a violin sonata and two clavier sonatas, a little cantata, and an operetta. In 1821 Zelter brought him to the great poet Goethe, who heard his music and conversed with the lad with great interest. The friendship with Goethe continued for many years. In one of his letters Mendelssohn tells of having visited the poet and having had a long conversation with him, in which the poet had given an account of Hegel's lectures on esthetics, which Mendelssohn had heard that winter in Berlin, and in which Goethe was very much interested on account of the novelty of the ideas presented. The first of the important compositions of Mendelssohn to be published and played was the overture to the "Midsummer Night's Dream," which was written in 1826 and played immediately. He seems to have worked this out upon the piano, improvising it piece by piece as he became excited in reading Shakspere's comedy. This overture is of most complete mastery in its working out and of thorough originality, and scarcely anything of his later works surpasses it in merit as a finished composition for orchestra.

It was largely through Mendelssohn's influence that the "St. Matthew Passion" of Bach was brought out and given entire in Berlin, in 1829, just one hundred years after its first production in Leipsic. Mendelssohn was the conductor, and it was given in the Sing-Akademie. This was the work of a boy of twenty. Nothing could speak more plainly of the authority which his genius gave him than that he should conceive and bring to completion an undertaking of this magnitude in a city like Berlin at so early an age. He made many journeys for pleasure and instruction. Full accounts of these will be found in his charming letters, which are among the most delightful contributions of this kind that any literary man or artist has left. During one of these journeys he visited the Hebrides, and afterward produced his overture called "Fingal's Cave," as a memory of that visit.

Mendelssohn attained great celebrity as a pianist and organist, the latter mainly by his improvisations, although he has the credit of having been one of the first to play Bach's fugues in England. The late August Haupt, however, told one of his pupils that Mendelssohn, in his time, never had an adequate pedal technic but played upon a sort of hit-or-miss principle, which generally succeeded from his thorough grasp of the music. He early produced his concerto for pianoforte in G minor, and played it at many musical festivals. He was in great demand as a director for festivals in Germany and also in England. He became director of the Gewandhaus concerts at Leipsic in 1835, and in 1843, with very distinguished artist associates, he founded the Conservatory of Music at Leipsic, which, under his management, became so celebrated. Mendelssohn produced works in almost every department of musical composition, a great variety of chamber music, symphonies, overtures, one opera, and a very large collection of music for the piano-forte and organ. Probably his fame will last longer through the influence of three works—viz., the "Midsummer Night's Dream" overture, which opened the new world of the romantic; the oratorio of "Elijah," which is in very many respects one of the most beautiful ever written, just as it is also fortunate in the selection of subjects and of the episodes for treatment; and the "Songs Without Words" for the pianoforte, which, while not of remarkable depth, are very beautiful and poetic compositions of such quality as to awaken in the musical world a new appetite and a new appreciation of an instrument which has now become the most universal in use.

All the works of Mendelssohn are distinguished for clearness of form, elegance of sentiment, and delicate fancy. They are more feminine than masculine, although at times he has a great deal of strength. His pianoforte writing is not so well suited to the instrument as that of some other composers, such as Chopin and Liszt, and his concertos, although very popular, are not ranked among the master works of this form of composition. Of all the pianoforte music which he produced, the "Rondo Capriccioso" is the one which most completely represents the characteristic range of his imagination.

The two composers for the present chapter have distinguished themselves in almost every walk of composition. Schubert left a large quantity of manuscript, most of it unheard until after his death, consisting of about 700 songs, nine symphonies, various pieces of chamber music, pianoforte sonatas, dances, marches, overtures, one opera, and many miscellaneous compositions. In every department of this vast activity there are a few works which stand out as masterpieces. To begin at the top, his "Unfinished Symphony" and the great Symphony in C are in the very first line of orchestral masterpieces, standing well up alongside the greatest of Beethoven, and with an originality of style and beauty wholly independent of the overshadowing Beethoven, who was, just at the moment of their composition, engaged in his last works, including the immortal Ninth Symphony.

Nevertheless, while Schubert was great in all musical directions, he marked an epoch in one direction, and therefore has a fame peculiarly his own. As a songwriter he was one of the greatest the world has ever known. His fame in this department rests upon two wholly different considerations, the union of which in the same composer forms the epoch-marking peculiarity already mentioned. As a melodist he stands in a rank by himself. His melodies move easily, now within the diatonic mode, and now in the chromatic, but generally, within the limits of each period, in the diatonic mode. The melodies are flexible, well balanced, very singable, and natural. Each comes up, lives its day, and dies away into silence, like a lovely flower unfolding from its own germ in the moment of the year when the sunshine and the showers have brought the time for its appearing. In this case the predisposing external cause leading to the appearance of one of these melodies is found in the poem chosen for text. Whatever Schubert read, if it interested him, immediately called up within him a melodic form. These melodies not only differ from one another by degrees of indescribably delicate gradation, but each as it comes proves itself adapted to the text which gave it birth. These lovely melodies, moreover, are supported by pianoforte accompaniments which at times rise to a co-ordinate rank with the melody itself as part of the expression of the poem. Sometimes the so-called accompaniment is itself almost the main thing. Such cases are found in "The Erl King," "To Be Sung on the Waters," and "Gretchen at the Spinning-wheel." At other times the accompaniment is as simple as the melody, and serves no other purpose than that of supporting the voice. A typical case of this kind is found in "Hedge Roses," and in "Hark! Hark! the Lark." It is another peculiarity of Schubert that, beginning with an entirely simple melody, he sometimes digresses to a remote key, within which for a moment he goes quite as simply, only to return again immediately to the main key. The "Hark! Hark! the Lark" is a case of this kind. (Note the transition to G-flat in the ninth measure.)

The universal type of Schubert's music is the melodic. This we find in the pianoforte sonatas quite as plainly as in the songs themselves. In the minuet and march on the present program the melodic ideas are the main thing. Charmingly naïve are the little waltzes upon the present list. Beautifully simple, delightfully symmetrical, their simplicity relieved by short modulations into neighboring keys, it is not possible to find elsewhere compositions so short, so simple, and yet so beautiful. In spite of their brevity and simplicity, the student will find them worth knowing thoroughly. It is also an excellent exercise for the student to learn some of these by heart and to play them in several different keys.

As an illustration of Schubert's cleverness in treating the pianoforte, which is already sufficiently evident in the dramatic accompaniments of his larger songs, before mentioned, attention is called to the Impromptu in B-flat—the air and variations known as "The Fair Rosamunde," the title due to the appearance of this melody in his opera of "Rosamunde." At least three of these variations display great finesse in treating the pianoforte. The first needs to be done with the utmost delicacy and lightness, the melody suggested rather than brought out. The third has a new rhythm and a melodic secondary figure in the left-hand part, which, taken with the treatment of the variation in the right-hand part, gives this piece a wholly new content and effect. The fourth, again, is equally novel and equally significant for the pianoforte. The remaining variations are of little importance, although, as a matter of course, all are to be played.

Mendelssohn as pianoforte composer represents two very important and characteristic moods—the scherzo and the song without words. It is probable that by the good fortune of the latter name for his collections of little piano pieces Mendelssohn rendered the musical world a greater service than he did even by the elegant quality of his compositions themselves. It was the happy thought of the title which at once puts the listener upon the right track, and disposes him to try to discover what the words of the unworded songs ought to be. It was a fortunate guess rather than a something thought out by reason, and if he had been pressed to assign a reason for including some of these pieces under the name, he would probably have been driven to confess that they were so included because he did not know what else they were.

The "Songs Without Words" embody many types, the most important being the true cantabile—pieces in which there is a flowing lyric melody with a soft accompaniment. These pieces are in effect nothing else than "nocturnes," quite after the manner of Chopin, only less elaborate in treatment and less extended. Among the best types of this class are to be mentioned the first, the two folk-songs in the program following, and the duetto. In all these the connected legato of the melody is of the first importance; and, second, the proper sinking and swelling of the melody in the true manner of impassioned singing. The accompaniment follows closely and shares in the fluctuations of intensity and mood.

Another type of these pieces is illustrated by the eighth, in B-flat minor. This piece, which has the speed and restless movement of a scherzo, has also the true Mendelssohnian flavor of sweet melancholy. It goes at great speed, and often the melody is suggested by an accent rather than fully expressed. Such cases are found in measures 3 and 4, and elsewhere. In these instances there is a fragment of melody in the middle voice.

Somewhat between the cantabile type and the scherzo is to be mentioned the "Table Song," No. 28, in G. This is like a part-song of light and pleasant yet somewhat sentimental character, suitable to be sung at table.

As a composer for voice, Mendelssohn attained a very high rank, producing melodies of great sweetness (yet often also of inherent coldness) and very singable. One of the most beautiful examples of this kind is found in the "O for the Wings of a Dove," first sung as soprano solo and then later for chorus, in his setting of a psalm. Another well-known example for alto is the "O Rest in the Lord." The latter melody derives additional beauty from the contrast it makes with the rather dramatic place in the oratorio where it occurs. Further illustrations of Mendelssohn's powers in this direction may be taken from the list above, which there is not time at present to discuss more fully.

The part-songs of Mendelssohn for mixed voices deserve to be more frequently sung. They are extremely beautiful and delightfully written for the voices. While of moderate difficulty, they belong among the very best of part-songs for unaccompanied mixed voices. The omission of the accompaniment is of very great importance, as these pieces are strictly written in such a manner that the voices have the complete ideas, both melody and harmony, and when given independent of accompaniment it is possible to obtain a purer intonation and better sympathy.

The present program permits a somewhat greater latitude of arrangement of parts than those of the preceding chapters. The works do not contrast with each other exactly as was sought in previous programs, but rather form phases of lyric melody, to be sung in such order and combination as best suits the performers, taking care however, that an agreeable succession of keys is generally observed.

PROGRAM.Schubert: Waltzes.Minuet, opus 79.March, from four-hand collection."Fair Rosamunde and Variations."Songs: "Hedge Roses.""Wanderer.""Hark!  Hark! the Lark.""Gretchen.""Frühlingsglaube."Mendelssohn: Songs Without Words.  The first."Hunting Song," No. 3."Folk-song," No. 4."Gondellied," No. 6.B-flat minor, No. 8."Table Song," No. 28.Duetto, No. 18.Overture to "Midsummer Night's Dream"; four hands."O rest in the Lord.""If with all your hearts.""It is enough."Scene from "Elijah," "Lord God of Abraham," etc."Hunting Song,"                  ) part-songs"Farewell to the Forest,";   )

Born January 8, 1810, at Zwickau in Saxony.Died July 29, 1856, at Endenich, near Bonn.

Schumann was the son of a bookseller and a confirmed music lover. The boy showed marked talent for music, playing to some extent upon the more usual instruments, and even getting together and conducting a small orchestra of the school-boys. For this orchestra he very early composed pieces. His father died when the boy was sixteen and had nearly completed his gymnasium course, and in 1828 Schumann entered at the University of Leipsic as a student of law. After a time he left Leipsic in favor of Heidelberg, where some very celebrated lectures were at that time being given; but at Heidelberg he practically wasted his time, so far as the law studies were concerned, and devoted himself entirely to music. As early as 1829 he made a short vacation journey into Italy, and at Milan heard the famous violin virtuoso Paganini, and then became wholly influenced for music. Schumann's mother was extremely averse to his fitting himself for the musical profession, and it was only with great difficulty that she was brought to consent. Accordingly, his serious musical studies began in 1830, when he came back again to Leipsic and became a music student with Frederick Wieck and Heinrich Dorn. It was Wieck's daughter Clara who afterward became Mme. Schumann.

Robert SchumannRobert Schumann

Robert SchumannRobert Schumann

Schumann had a great determination to become a piano virtuoso, not so much for the repetition of effects already standard as for the invention of new ones. In this direction he devoted himself to practice with such assiduity that he very soon reached a point where his fingers could not keep up with his imagination. In the effort to impart a greater individuality and strength to the fourth finger of the right hand, he made some experiments which resulted in disabling his finger for a while, and he never afterward regained the use of it to a complete degree. Thus his career as virtuoso was cut short, but the studies he made and the playing he was afterward able to do resulted in very singular and productive discoveries of musical effects possible to the piano, so that it is not too much to say that the piano playing of the present time is more indebted to Schumann than perhaps to any other master in the history of the instrument.

He began his creative career by the arrangement of a collection of Paganini's studies, in which he sought to reproduce upon the pianoforte some of the effects of the famous Paganini caprices for the violin. He made two collections of these, about four years apart, and prefaced the first book with many observations in regard to the methods of practice and innovations of technic. Almost simultaneously with this he began seriously as a composer upon his own account, and, quite characteristically, as a composer of short pieces. The Papillons, opus 2, or "Scenes at a Ball," consist of short pieces of from two to six lines in length, and among them are many of great beauty. Another of these early works is the so-called "Dances of the Davidsbündler against the Philistines." These consist of eighteen short pieces without individual titles. Already, by the time when the composition of this work was undertaken in 1835, Schumann had commenced to write as a musical literary man under two pseudonyms—Florestan and Eusebius, the one representing the sentimental and tender side, and the other the impassioned and vigorously moved. The different numbers in the "Davidsbündler Dances" are signed with one or the other of these initials, and sometimes with both. The name "Davidsbündler Dances" was in allusion to the term Philistine, which, in the German university towns, signified the old fogies, the conservative element, who take things as they find them and want nothing changed. Schumann belonged to the new party, who wanted about everything changed.

Two or three years later a second work of very similar import, called the "Carnaval," was produced, consisting of thirty-one short pieces, each bearing a characteristic title. This work is of a very extraordinary character. The moods of the pieces are extremely individual and marked, and the range of pianoforte expression covered by them is as great as can be found in the compositions of any master for the instrument. Another characteristic set of pieces at this time was the "Fantasy Pieces," opus 12, each of which had its own title; also the "Kreisleriana," a series of queer sayings after the manner of one Kreisler, an eccentric old musician in a novel popular at that time. There are also what he called "Novelettes," a series of eight somewhat elaborate pianoforte pieces.

In 1834 Schumann, in connection with two other young men, founded the "Neue Zeitschrift für Musik" as an organ of musical progress. He remained editor of this for ten years, writing there a great variety of articles, and in 1844 resigned the editor's chair to Brendel and removed to Düsseldorf. It was from Düsseldorf that he wrote his famous article about the newly-risen star of Johannes Brahms.

In 1840 he succeeded in overcoming Wieck's objections to a marriage with the young Clara, who was then a very distinguished piano virtuoso, and in the same year he received a doctorate from the University of Jena. In 1839 and 1840 he composed a very large number of songs—viz., one hundred in all. In 1841 his first symphony was played at the Gewandhaus in Leipsic, and in 1843, upon the founding of the Leipsic Conservatory by Mendelssohn, Schumann was appointed teacher of playing from score. As he was practically no teacher at all, and found the duties irksome, he soon resigned this position and lived for a while at Dresden, and made a number of concert tours to various foreign countries with his wife, his own works forming generally a part of the program. It is told of one of these journeys that at some court or other where they were graciously received, the amiable prince, after complimenting the brilliant young pianist upon the solidity of her work, continued, "And is your husband also musical?" At that time Mr. Schumann was the husband of Clara Wieck, rather than Clara Wieck the wife of Robert Schumann.

Early in 1851 Schumann's mind began to show signs of giving way, and in 1853 he was removed to a retreat for the insane, where he died in 1856.

Schumann's compositions comprise four rather large volumes of piano works, four symphonies for grand orchestra, and a number of chamber works of different kinds, of which the quintet for piano and strings is perhaps the most successful; about 100 songs, one opera, several cantatas, a series of music pieces for "Faust," to be played in connection with the drama, etc.

In his lifetime his piano music had very slight recognition from any quarter, its novelties both in the subject-matter of the music and in the manner of treating the piano making it practically impossible for piano players at that day, and it was only about the time of Schumann's death that his piano music began to attract attention upon a considerable scale. Schumann's Symphony in B-flat had a great success under Mendelssohn's direction in Leipsic in 1841, but it was played in very few other places for a number of years, although it was an extremely bright and interesting production. When William Mason was in Leipsic in 1850 he sent home a score and parts to the orchestra in Boston. They held two rehearsals of this symphony and then laid it upon the shelf in the belief that the composer must have been crazy, and it was only five or six years later that they mustered up nerve to produce the work and were astonished to find that it pleased the hearers.

The universal currency of Schumann's piano music can not be said to have made much progress until the appearance of Rubinstein. In the early days of Schumann's productivity he composed his enormously difficult and beautiful "Fantasie," opus 17, and dedicated it to Liszt. Accordingly, not to be outdone in politeness, Liszt introduced some of Schumann's pieces in his programs once or twice, but the effect of them upon the audience was so much less than that of his own music or of the Chopin pieces which at that time he was very fond of playing, that he discontinued further efforts to aid Schumann's cause, although he wrote him very polite and encouraging letters. The first real Schumann player was Rubinstein, who had the qualities of tone and of emotionality which Schumann's music imperatively required; and since Rubinstein, Schumann's music has entered more and more into the world-current of piano music, until at the present time it occupies a position inferior to none other.

Of a composer so varied in his capacities, so original, so influential upon the later course of development in his art, and so interesting in every way, it is not possible from a single program—no matter how carefully selected the works may be—to gain a complete idea. The most that can be done is to give a glimpse of the man, to bring out a few of his moods, and to observe the more salient features of his style. The following list of selections has been influenced by the same idea as that underlying all the previous programs of this series—namely: A preference for selections of moderate difficulty, both for performer and hearer; and a representation of what might be called the more elementary characteristics of his art.

PROGRAM.Kinderscenen.  Opus 15."From Strange Lands and People.""A Curious Story.""Playing Tag.""Happy Enough.""Traumerei."Album for the Young.  Opus 68."The Jolly Farmer.""A Little Romance."Papillons.  Opus 2.Polonaise in D major.Songs."The Hat of Green.""The Wanderer's Song."Forest Scenes.  Opus 82."Entrance to the Forest.""The Wayside Inn.""Prophetic Bird.""Farewell to the Forest."Songs."Moonlight.""He, the Noblest."Night-piece in F.  Opus 23.  No. 4.Novelette in F.  Opus 21.  No. 1.Songs."Thou Ring Upon My Finger.""The Spring Night."Fantasy Pieces.  Opus 12."In the Evening.""Soaring.""Why?""Whims.""End of the Song."

The foregoing selections, as will be noticed, are all for piano and voice; I have thought it better to confine them to these easily accessible sources than to attempt to cover more ground. In a later program more difficult piano selections will be given. All the instrumental selections in this list are in the volume of "Selections from the Works of Robert Schumann," edited by the present writer and published by the publishers of "Music." All the songs are in the collection of Schumann songs published by Boosey and Company.

I have written so many times upon the works and characteristics of Schumann that it would, perhaps, suffice to refer the student to a few of those places, such as "A Popular History of Music," pages 464 to 477. Also in the first volume of "How to Understand Music" there is something to the point, and at various other places in the course of the work, as will be found by looking up the references to Schumann's music given in the index. At the beginning of the collection of Schumann pieces, above mentioned, is an essay upon Schumann and his works which will be found suggestive. One of the best single articles I have seen is Mr. W. H. Hadow's essay upon "Schumann and the Romantic Movement in Germany," which occupies pages 149 to 231 in the first volume of his "Studies in Modern Music." In spite of these I shall add a few observations in the present pages, since it is a peculiarity of the works of any great writer that they grow upon the appreciation, and while their shortcomings and limitations of whatever kind become more apparent as the student grows in years and clearness of thought, the beauties and originalities also press more and more upon our notice, and perhaps, in the case of creative artists of the first order, come out into even greater luxuriance than we at first realized. Such, at least, I find in my own case since my first introduction to the works of Schumann, which practically began with my acquaintance with Dr. Mason at South Bend, Indiana, in the summer of 1870. Before that I had heard but very few of the Schumann works, and these had not been well done and so had failed of making an impression. I was much surprised when Dr. Mason told me that one could not properly understand Beethoven without knowing Schumann. And it was like opening a new world when I began with the Novelette in E, the Fantasy Pieces, opus 12, and the Romance in F-sharp, opus 28.

The most distinguishing quality of the Schumann music, and the one which perhaps demarcates it from other music most strikingly, is its hearty quality, its spontaneity, its headlong driving speed. Another quality almost or quite equally notable is its conciseness. Schumann is above all the poet of the short, the clear, the well-defined. In parallel line with this is his habit of employing fanciful designations for his short pieces, generally poetical titles suggesting a mood or a scene. Examples of this latter peculiarity occur in the present program. The titles were perhaps always put on after the piece had been composed. It is not known with certainty whether Schumann had the idea of the title in his mind in composing the piece. In most cases it serves merely as a suggestion to the player of a proper standpoint for conceiving the work.

Another peculiarity of Schumann's writing is the close unity of each little piece or movement. He develops his period or his two periods out of a single motive or a motive and a counter-theme, and the leading idea is repeated several times. When the first idea gives place to a second idea, this proves to be something totally unlike the idea which it follows, making with it a strong contrast. In the clearness of his moods and their contrast is one source of the vigor of impression which the Schumann music has made and is making upon the musical world.

The first number in the present program contains five pieces from the set called "Scenes from Childhood," written in 1837, when the composer was in the very thick of his somewhat diversified course of true love and had advanced seven years along the pathway of a composer.

Following the "Träumerei" are two popular selections from the "Album for the Young," written some ten years later—the "Jolly Farmer" and the "Little Romance." This program number closes with the Polonaise in D, from the "Papillons," written in 1832. It is a very brilliant and original piece, full of delightful pianoforte effect.

In the second series of instrumental numbers are included four of the beautiful cycle, "Forest Scenes." Each of these is like a little sonnet—brief, picturesque, and individual. In the first we have the vague and shadowy effect of the entrance into the forest, the shimmering leaves, the sunlight and shade, and whatever fanciful explanation one likes of the imaginative tone-sonnet of the author. In the "Wayside Inn" the thematic style of Schumann is well illustrated, and also the variety of effect possible to be obtained from a very small amount of musical material. The reference to the title is not very apparent, since the speed of the piece and its quick and forcible character deprive it of the reposeful "Stimmung" one would anticipate from the title assigned. I do not know the true explanation of the "Prophetic Bird." It is a most lovely little bit, and is now so well known in the concert-room as not to need further discussion.

The "Farewell to the Forest" is one of the most delightful songs without words in the whole Schumann category. Its melody is musical and new, and the changing rhythms, the occasional coming out of a middle voice, and the general effect of the whole are alike interesting and absorbing.

In the next instrumental number we come upon another mood of Schumann, or rather upon two of them. The "Night-piece" is of a lyric quality enjoyable by every one. Nearly all young players object to the speed which Schumann has marked, and many play it much more slowly; this, however, is not warranted, since in the nature of the case Schumann must have known what he intended, and when we have made an allowance for the undue slowness of his metronome at given tempi, we are still not warranted in making this slower than eighty for quarters. To take it still more slowly is to change the character of all the latter part of the piece. If well played it is sufficiently reposeful in the form in which we now have it. In the second part there is some delightful imitative work between the motive in the treble and its answer in the tenor.

With the Novelette in F, opus 21, we come into the domain of what we might call the higher Schumann, for in these works and in those which follow upon this list greater demands are made upon the player, and the music itself is deeper, stronger, more original, and therein more satisfactory. The novelette consists of two main parts. First comes a march-like movement, in which certain very strong chords with occasional triplet octaves in the bass impart a singularly driving and forceful character to the music. After the double bar at the beginning of the fifth measure a new motive appears, which sets in operation a series of sequences, and this period ends in D-flat.

The next period begins in the same manner, but the modulation is differently conducted, and the period now ends in the key of A. Now comes in what he calls the trio, a lovely lyric melody in the key of F. This is developed to quite a length, after which the main theme of the novelette returns, and the period ends in the key of F. Now ensues a curious sort of intermezzo, in the key of D-flat, where one voice starts out with a little melodic subject and another takes it up and imitates it, and this in turn is followed by another, quite in the manner of fugue, only that here the motive itself is very short and the imitations follow so fast, one after another, that only the beginning of each is to be made out. For the rest, it is a question of mystery. When he has carried this as far as he cares, the first subject returns; and after this again the trio, but now in the key of A major. At the end of this, again the original subject, and so finally the end. The most notable features of this novelette are its vigor, the different forms in which the subjects return, and the persistence of the two main ideas—the march and the lyric trio—which form the substance of it. The mystic and fugue-like interlude is merely an interlude. It perhaps represents one of those moments when the mind is too full for clear utterance—a condition more celebrated in fiction than desirable in reality.

The Fantasy Pieces, opus 12, are among the most happy of the smaller works of this composer. Their general character is sufficiently indicated by their titles. "In the Evening" represents one of those mystic moods suitable to twilight. "Soaring" has also been translated "Excelsior," which perhaps more truly represents its spirit. "Why?" is a question, just like the word; nevertheless this has become the greatest favorite of all the smaller Schumann pieces. "Whims" also is well named, since in this quickly moving little piece one mood follows another irrepressibly; among them are some which are highly poetic. Last of all, "The End of the Song"—a very vigorous and strongly marked movement which appeals to every one.

The Schumann songs are so remarkable as to demand separate treatment. Those upon the present list are so placed because they represent in a general way the more noticeable moods of Schumann in this form of art. They can be sung high or low, as the singer's voice requires, but they are more satisfactory if sung by a soprano voice, I think.

The first upon the list is the merry and arch little "Hat of Green," which with folk-tone sweetness and simplicity brings out a situation as old as the world and as new as the morning. The musical treatment is very clever and interesting.

The "Wanderer's Song" is characteristically German, representing the song of the young student as he sets out upon his student career as traveler, for seeing strange lands; or the emigrant who leaves his land to find a better home, but never one so well loved as his own native country. It is full of heart and courage until the middle part, where the intermezzo in the key of E major tells of softer feelings—of longing and homesickness.

"Moonlight," again, represents the peculiarly mystic and dreamy side of the Schumann nature, and there are few songs in the whole world so sweet and so beautiful as this; but it needs a pure, clear, and very true soprano voice, controlled with musical feeling. Thus interpreted it is indeed a dream.

The next two songs upon the list are out of the famous cycle called "Woman's Love and Life"—the poems of no great depth, but the subjects of lasting and universal application and interest. "He, the Noblest" gives a very spirited and sensitive musical setting to the woman's opinion of the loved one; words and music bring to expression one of the most ideal moments of woman's life. The next, "Thou Ring Upon My Finger," tells its own story, but here, again, the music is well worth while for its own sake. It is interesting as an instrumental piece without the aid of the voice. Few songs as musical have been written. The last upon the list, "Spring Night," while out of another cycle,—the so-called "Liederkreis,"—is nevertheless of quite similar excellence to the preceding.

All need to be sung with abandon, and above all with sentiment, poetry, and flexible rhythm, yet always with abounding musical life. To sing such songs well is to be an artist.


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