PARKER.

PARKER.Horatio W. Parker, a young American composer of more than ordinary promise, was born at Auburndale, Mass., Sept. 15, 1863. After his fifteenth year he began the study of music, taking his earlier lessons of the three Boston teachers, Stephen A. Emery, John Orth, and G. W. Chadwick. In 1882 he went to Munich and studied the organ and composition with Josef Rheinberger, for three years. In the spring of 1885 he wrote the cantata “King Trojan,” and it was produced for the first time in that city with success during the summer of the same year. Since then it has been given in this country by Mr. Jules Jordan, of Providence, R. I., Feb. 8, 1887. His string quartet in F major was played at a concert of the Buffalo Philharmonic Society in January, 1886; and a short scherzo was performed by the Van der Stücken orchestra in New York City in the same year. Besides these compositions, he has written three overtures, quite a number of songs and pieces for the piano-forte, and a symphony in C, and ballade for chorus andorchestra, both of which were played in Munich last year. In 1886 he accepted the professorship of music at the Cathedral School of St. Paul, Garden City, L. I., and in February, 1887, went to New York, where he now resides, to take charge of a boy choir in St. Andrew’s Church, Harlem.King Trojan.“King Trojan,” composed for chorus, solos, and orchestra, was written in March, 1885, and first performed in July of the same year, at Munich. Its story is the poem of the same name, by Franz Alfred Muth, the English version being a free and excellent translation by the composer’s mother, Mrs. Isabella G. Parker, of Auburndale, Mass.After a short and graceful introduction, the cantata opens with a solo describing the quiet beauty of a summer night, daintily accompanied by wind instruments and harp. A second voice replies (“O Summer Night”), and then the two join in a very vigorous duet (“O fill thou Even with Light of Heaven”). A short solo for third voice leads up to a chorus which gives us a picture of King Trojan’s castle gleaming in the moonlight. It is followed by a very effective solo for the King (“The Horse is neighing, O Page of mine”), in which he bids his Page saddle his steed for a night ride to visit his distant love. The chorus intervenes with a reflective number (“What thinks she now?”), which is verydramatic in style, describing the mutual longing of the lovers to be together.The second scene opens with a short solo by the Page (“Up, up, O King, the Horses wait”), followed by the chorus as narrator, describing the ride of the King and his companion through the greenwood, with which is interwoven Trojan’s solo (“How sweet and cool is yet the Night”). In the next number, a vivacious allegro, the story of the ride is continued by the chorus, with a characteristic accompaniment, and again Trojan sings a charming tribute to the summer night, which is followed by responsive solos of the King and the Page, in the allegro and penseroso style,—the one singing of the raptures of night, the other of the gladness of day and sunlight. A passionate bit of recitative (“Now swift, ye Horses”) by Trojan reveals the secret of the King’s haste. He is King of the night, and the morning ray will be fatal to him. A short choral number (“And forward fly they”) brings the first part to a close with the arrival of the riders at the Queen’s castle.The second part opens with a beautiful solo, quartet, and chorus (“Good-Night, the Lindens whisper”), which describes the meeting of the lovers, while“Beneath the lofty castle gateSlumbers the page who so long must wait.Then crows the cock, the hour is late.”At this note of warning the Page appeals to his master to fly, for the sunlight will bring him painand harm. The dallying King replies, “Hark! how the Nightingale yet sings.” A small chorus intervenes with the warning, “Love is so fleeting, Night is so fair.” The Queen appeals to him, “What seest thou, O King?” To which Trojan replies with agitation, “The ruddy Morning, it is my Death.” Again comes the Page’s warning. The King springs up in alarm and hastens to his steed. In a choral presto movement the ride back is described. The King conceals himself in a dark thicket, hoping to escape, but the night has vanished and the day has begun. Its beams penetrate his refuge, and with a last despairing cry (“Accursed Light, I feel thee now”) he expires. A short choral passage, with harp accompaniment, brings this very dramatic and fanciful composition to a close:—“And from his horse the king now falls,He was but king of the night;The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,But death comes with morning light.”PARKER.James C. D. Parker, an American composer, was born at Boston, Mass., June 2, 1828. He received his primary education in the schools of that city, was graduated from Harvard University in 1848, and immediately thereafter began the study of law. His love for music, however, was irresistible, and he soon dropped law-books and entered upon a thorough course of musical instruction, at first in Boston, and afterwards at the Conservatory in Leipsic, where he finished the regular course. He returned to Boston in 1854, and at once devoted himself to musical work in which he took a prominent part, and made an excellent reputation as pianist, organist, and teacher, as well as composer, though he has not as yet attempted any very large or ambitious works. In 1862 he organized an amateur vocal association under the name of the Parker Club, which has performed several works by Gade, Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Schumann, and others, with success. His most important composition is the “Redemption Hymn,” which hewrote for the Boston Handel and Haydn Society during the period he was its organist. He has also held the position of organist and choir-director of Trinity Church in that city, and of Professor of the College of Music connected with the Boston University. During his unostentatious career he has earned an enviable reputation as an earnest, honest musician deeply devoted to his art.The Redemption Hymn.“The Redemption Hymn,” for alto solo and chorus, was written for the Fourth Triennial Festival of the Handel and Haydn Society, and was first given on that occasion, May 17, 1877, Anna Louise Cary-Raymond taking the solo. The words are taken from Isaiah li. 9-11.Chorus:—“Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!“Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.“Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!Solo and Chorus:—“Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”The work opens with a brief but spirited orchestral introduction, which leads to an exultant chorus (“Awake, O Arm of the Lord”), changing to awell-written fugue in the middle part (“Art thou not it?”), and returning to the first theme in the close. The next number is an effective alto solo (“Art thou not it which hath dried the Sea?”) alternating with chorus. It is followed by a slow movement for alto solo and chorus (“Therefore the Redeemed of the Lord shall return”), which closes very gracefully and tenderly on the words, “Sorrow and Mourning shall flee away.” This little work has become a favorite with singing societies, by the scholarly and effective manner in which it is written.RANDEGGER.Alberto Randegger was born at Trieste, April 13, 1832, and began the study of music at an early age with Lafont and Ricci. In his twentieth year he had written numerous minor pieces of church music, several masses and two ballets which were produced with success in his native city. From 1852 to 1854 he was engaged as a conductor in the theatres of Fiume, Zera, Brescia, and Venice. In the latter year he brought out a grand opera in Brescia, called “Bianca Capello,” shortly after which he went to London, where he has since resided and made a world-wide reputation as a teacher. In 1857 he conducted Italian opera at St. James’s Theatre; in 1864 brought out a comic opera, “The Rival Beauties,” at the Theatre Royal, Leeds; in 1868 was appointed Professor of Singing at the Royal Academy of Music, in which he has since become a director; in 1879-80 was conductor for the Carl Rosa English Opera Company at Her Majesty’s Theatre, London; and has since been appointed conductor of the Norwich Festival in theplace of Benedict. His principal works, besides those already mentioned, are: “Medea,” a scena, sung by Madame Rudersdorff at the Gewandhaus, Leipsic (1869); the One hundred and fiftieth Psalm, for soprano solo, chorus, orchestra, and organ (1872); cantata, “Fridolin” (1873); soprano scena, “Saffo” (1875); funeral anthem for the death of the Prince Consort; and a large number of songs which are great favorites on the concert-stage.Fridolin.“Fridolin, or the Message to the Forge” was written for the Birmingham Triennial Musical Festival of 1873. The words, by Mme. Erminia Rudersdorff, are founded on Schiller’s ballad, “Der Gang nach dem Eisenhammer.” Thedramatis personæare Waldemar, Count of Saverne; Eglantine, Countess of Saverne; Fridolin, page to the Countess; and Hubert, squire to the Count. The story closely follows that of Schiller. The preface to the piano score gives its details as follows:—“Fridolin and Hubert are in the service of the Count of Saverne. Hubert, aspiring to win the affections of his beautiful mistress, conceives a violent hatred of Fridolin, whom he regards as an obstacle in his path. Taking advantage of Fridolin’s loyal devotion to the Countess, Hubert excites the jealousy of the Count, and prompts a stern revenge. The Count forthwith writes to some mechanic serfs, ordering thatwhoever comes asking a certain question shall be at once thrown into their furnace. Fridolin, innocent of wrong and unconscious of danger, receives the ‘message to the forge;’ but, ere setting out, he waits upon his mistress for such commands as she might have to give. The Countess desires him to enter the chapel he would pass on his way and offer up a prayer for her. Fridolin obeys, and thus saves his own life; but vengeance overtakes the traitor Hubert, who, going to the forge to learn whether the plot has succeeded, himself asks the fatal question, ‘Is obeyed your lord’s command?’ and himself becomes the victim. Fridolin subsequently appears, and is about to perish likewise, when the Count and Countess, between whom explanations have taken place, arrive on the scene, to preserve the innocent and to learn the fate of the guilty.”The cantata opens with a short but stirring prelude, introducing the declamatory prologue-chorus:—“A pious youth was Fridolin,Who served the Lord with zeal,And did his duty faithfully,Come thereby woe or weal.For this when subtle foe conspiredAnd sought o’er him to boast,About his path in direst needKept guard the angel host.”The cantata proper opens with a recitative by Fridolin (“Arising from the Lap of star-clad Night”), leading up to the quiet, dreamy air, “None but holy, lofty Thoughts.” It is followed by a bass scena for Hubert (“Proceed thou, hateful Minion, on thy Path”) which opens in an agitated manner,but grows more reposeful and tender in style as the subject changes in the passage, “For one kind Glance from out those Eyes divine.” Again the scena changes and becomes vigorous in the recitative, “Dispelled by jealous Rage is Hope’s fond Dream,” set to an imposing accompaniment, and leading to a brilliant fiery allegro (“A thousand hideous Deaths I’d make him die”). The next number is a very graphic and spirited hunting-chorus (“Hark! the Morn awakes the Horn”), introduced and accompanied by the horns, and full of breezy, out-door feeling. A long dialogue follows between Hubert and the Count, somewhat gloomy in character, in which the former arouses his master’s jealous suspicions. The gloom still further deepens as Hubert suggests the manner of Fridolin’s death (“Mid yon gloomy Mountains”). Then follows the message to the forge by the Count in monotone phrases (“Mark, ye Serfs, your Lord’s Commands”) and the scene closes with a very dramatic duet (“Death and Destruction fall upon his Head”). In striking contrast with these stormy numbers comes the charming, graceful chorus of the handmaidens (“Calmly flow the equal Hours”), followed by a very expressive song for the Countess (“No Bliss can be so great”). A short scene in recitative leads up to a tender duet (“Above yon Sun, the Stars above”) for Fridolin and the Countess, closing with a powerful quartet for the four principal parts (“Now know I, Hubert, thou speakest true”).The ninth scene is admirably constructed. It opens with an animated and picturesque dance and chorus of villagers (“Song is resounding, Dancers are bounding”), which swings along in graceful rhythm until it is interrupted by a solemn phrase for organ, introduced by horns, which prepares the way for a chorale (“Guardian Angels sweet and fair”), closing with Fridolin’s prayer at the shrine, interwoven with a beautiful sacred chorus (“Sancta Maria, enthroned above”). In a recitative and ballad (“The wildest Conflicts rage within my fevered Soul”) the Count mourns over what he supposes to be the infidelity of his wife, followed by a long and very dramatic scene with the Countess (“My Waldemar, how erred thine Eglantine?”). The last scene is laid at the forge, and after a short but vigorous prelude opens with a chorus of the smiths (“Gift of Demons, raging Fire”), in which the composer has produced the effect of clanging anvils, roaring fire, and hissing sparks with wonderful realism. The chorus closes with passages describing the providential rescue of Fridolin and the fate of Hubert, and anandante religioso(“Let your Voices Anthems raise”). The epilogue is mainly choral, and ends this very dramatic work in broad flowing harmonies.RHEINBERGER.Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger was born at Vaduz, in Lichtenstein, March 17, 1839, and displayed his musical talent at a very early age. He studied the piano in his fifth year, and in his seventh was organist in the church of his native place. At the age of twelve he entered the Munich Conservatory, where he remained as a scholar until he was nineteen, when he was appointed one of its teachers; at the same time he became organist at the Hofkirche of St. Michael, and afterwards director of the Munich Oratorio Society. In 1867 he was appointed professor and inspector of the Royal Music School, and since 1877 has been the royal Hofkapellmeister, directing the performances of the Kapellchor, an organization similar to that of the Berlin Domchor. He is a very prolific composer, nearly two hundred works having proceeded from his pen. Among them are the “Wallenstein” and “Florentine” symphonies; a Stabat Mater; two operas, “The Seven Ravens” and “Thürmer’s Töchterlein;” incidental music to a drama of Calderon’s;a symphony-sonata for piano; a requiem for the dead in the Franco-German war; theme and variations for string quartet; a piano concerto; five organ sonatas; the choral works, “Toggenburg,” “Klärchen auf Eberstein,” “Wittekind,” and “Christophorus;” and a large number of songs and church pieces, besides much chamber music.Christophorus.“Christophorus,” a legend, as Rheinberger calls it, was written in 1879, and is composed for barytone, soprano, and alto solos, chorus, and orchestra. Its subject is taken from the familiar story of the giant who bore the infant Christ across the flood. The chorus acts the part of narrator, and in its opening number relates the legend of Christophorus’ wanderings and his arrival before the castle whose master he would serve. He offers his services, but when they are accepted as an offering from the gods he haughtily declares that he only serves “for fame and chivalry.” A voice thereupon in an impressive solo (“Trust not this loud-voiced Stranger”) warns him away as an envoy of Satan, and the chorus repeats the warning. The giant departs with the intention of drawing his sword in Satan’s cause,—“For he alone must be lord of all,Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall.”In a very picturesque number the chorus describes his wanderings among the mountain crags androcks where Satan weaves his spells about him; and then suddenly changing to a tender, delicate strain (“Over us Stars shine”) anticipates the Voice, which in a sensuous aria (“Who is the sovereign Lord of the Heart?”) sings the power of love. In graceful chorus the spirits taunt him, whereupon he once more resolves to fly and to abandon the cause of Satan, but is thwarted by them. A weird chorus closes the first part (“Satan a-hunting is gone”), ending with an impressive strain:—“Stormily falleth the night:Frightened maidens fleeing,Demon hordes all around.‘A cross, see, upraised!Fly, master! too far we have come.Hallowed is the ground.’”The second part opens with a reflective soliloquy by the giant, followed by a plaintive chorus (“All now is lone and silent”) describing the suffering of our Saviour on the cross and the sadness of a hermit gazing upon the scene. The giant approaches the latter, and a dialogue ensues between them, in which the identity of the victim on the cross is revealed. Having found the King of the universe, Christophorus determines to devote himself to His cause, and inquires how he may serve Him. He is informed he must go to the swiftly-rolling river and carry the pilgrims across. A chanting chorus (“As flows the River seawards, so onward glide the Years”) describes the work of the faithful toiler. Then comes a voice calling him, and he beholds anInfant waiting for him. He takes Him upon his shoulders and bears Him into the flood, but as he advances, bends and struggles beneath his load “as though the whole world he bore.” He inquires the meaning, and the Voice replies:—“Thou bear’st the world and bearest its Creator:This Child is Jesus, God’s own Son.Soldier of Christ!Thine arms were charity and mercy,The arms of love.Now mayst rejoice:The prize of thy faith is won.”A joyful, exultant chorus, (“Blessed of Rivers, the Child embrace”) closes this very graceful little “legend.”Toggenburg.“Toggenburg,” a cycle of ballads, was written in 1880. The music is for solos and mixed chorus, the ballads being linked together by motives, thus forming a connected whole. The story is a very simple one. The bright opening chorus (“At Toggenburg all is in festive Array”) describes the pageantry which has been prepared to welcome the return of Henry, Knight of Toggenburg, with his fair young Suabian bride, the Lady Etha. The chorus is followed by a duet and alto or barytone solo, which indicate the departure of the Knight for the wars, and the Lady Etha’s loss of the wedding ring. The next number, a solo quartet and chorus (“Ah! Huntsman, who gave thee the DiamondRing?”), is very dramatic in its delineation of the return of the victorious Knight, who, observing the ring on the finger of the huntsman, slays him, and then in a fit of jealousy hurls the Lady Etha from the tower where she was waving his welcome. The next number is a female chorus (“On mossy Bed her gentle Form reposes”), very slow in its movement and plaintive in character. It is followed by a weird and solemn chorus (“Through the Night rings the Horn’s Blast with Power”), picturing the mad ride of the Knight through the darkness, accompanied by the dismal notes of ravens and mysterious sounds like “greetings from the dead,” which only cease when he discovers the corpse of his lady with the cross on its breast. A short closing chorus, funereal in style, ends the mournful story:—“Toggenburg all is in mourning array,The banners wave, the gate stands wide,Count Henry returns to his home this day,In death he anew has won his bride.Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,Where flickering tapers are ranged around,And far through the night in the valley are heardThe chants of the monks with their mournful sound.”Though the work has somewhat both of the Schumann and Mendelssohn sentiment in it, it is nevertheless original and characteristic in treatment. The melodies are pleasing throughout, and cover a wide range of expression, reaching from the tenderness of love to the madness of jealousy, and thence on to the elegiac finale.ROMBERG.Andreas Romberg was born April 27, 1767, at Vechte, near Münster. At a very early age he was celebrated as a violinist. In his seventeenth year he made afurorby his playing at the Concerts Spirituels, Paris. In 1790, with his cousin Bernhard, who was even more celebrated as a violoncellist (indeed the Rombergs, like the Bachs, were all musicians), he played in the Elector’s band, and also went with him to Rome, where the cousins gave concerts together under the patronage of one of the cardinals. During the next four years Andreas travelled in Austria and France, and during his stay at Vienna made the acquaintance of Haydn, who was very much interested in his musical work. In 1800 he brought out an opera in Paris which made a failure. He then left for Hamburg, where he married and remained many years. In 1820 he was appointed court capellmeister at Gotha, and died there in the following year. Among his compositions are six symphonies; five operas, “Das graue Ungeheuer,” “Die Macht der Musik,”“Der Rabe,” “Die Grossmuth des Scipio,” and “Die Ruinen zu Paluzzi;” and several cantatas, quartets, quintets, and church compositions. Of all his works, however, his “Lay of the Bell” is the best known. A few years ago it was the stock piece of nearly every choral society in Germany, England, and the United States; and though now relegated to the repertory of old-fashioned music, it is still very popular.Lay of the Bell.The “Lay of the Bell” was composed in 1808, the music being set to Schiller’s famous poem of the same name, whose stately measures are well adapted to musical treatment. It opens with a bass solo by the Master, urging on the workmen:—“In the earth right firmly planted,Stands well baked the mould of clay:Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;Let the bell be born to-day.”The full chorus responds in a rather didactic strain (“The Labor we prepare in Earnest”), and as it closes the Master gives his directions for lighting the fire in the furnace and mixing the metals. In this manner the work progresses, the Master issuing his orders until the bell is ready for the casting, the solo singers or chorus replying with sentiments naturally suggested by the process and the future work of the bell. The first of these responses isthe chorus, “What in the Earth profoundly hidden,” a smoothly flowing number followed by a soprano solo (“For with a Burst of joyous Clangor”), a pleasantly-rippling melody picturing the joys of childhood, and a spirited tenor solo (“The Youth, Girl-playmates proudly leaving”) indicating the dawn of the tender passion which broadens out into love, as the two voices join in the charming duet, “O tender Longing, Hope delightsome.” The bass still further emphasizes their delight in the recitative, “When stern and gentle Troth have plighted,” leading up to a long but interesting tenor solo (“Though Passion gives way”) which describes the homely joys of domestic life. The male chorus thereupon takes up the story in a joyful strain (“And the good Man with cheerful Eye”), and tells us of the prosperity of the happy pair and the good man’s boast,—“Firm as the solid earth,Safe from misfortune’s hand,Long shall my dwelling stand;”to which comes the ominous response of the female chorus:—“Yet none may with Fate supernalEver form a league eternal;And misfortune swiftly strides.”The Master now gives the signal to release the metal into the mould, whereupon follows a stirring and picturesque chorus (“Right helpful is the Might of Fire”) describing the terrors of fire, thewild alarm, the fright and confusion of the people, the clanging bells and crackling flames, and the final destruction of the homestead, closing the first part.The second part opens with the anxious orders of the Master to cease from work and await the result of the casting. The chorus takes up a slow and stately measure (“To Mother Earth our Work committing”) which closes in a mournful finale describing the passing funeral train, followed by a pathetic soprano solo which tells the sad story of the death of the good man’s wife, while “To the orphaned Home a Stranger comes unloving Rule to bear.” The scene now changes from a desolate to a happy home as the Master bids the workmen seek their pleasure while the bell is cooling. A soprano solo takes up a cheery strain (“Wends the weary Wanderer”), picturing the harvest home, the dance of the youthful reapers, and the joys of evening by the fireside, followed by a tribute to patriotism, sung by tenor and bass, the pleasant scene closing with an exultant full chorus (“Thousand active Hands combining”). The Master then gives the order to break the mould, and in contemplation of the ruin which might have been caused had the metal burst it, the chorus breaks out in strong, startling phrases picturing the horrors of civil strife (“The Master’s Hand the Mould may shatter”). The work, however, is complete and successful, and in the true spirit of German Gemüthlichkeit the Master summons his workmen:—“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,Upon our bell invoke a blessing.‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:In concord and in love of one another,Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”The cantata closes with a last invocation on the part of the Master, followed by a jubilant chorus (“She is moving, She is moving”).SCHUBERT.Franz Peter Schubert was born in Vienna, Jan. 31, 1797, and received his first musical lessons from his father and his elder brother Ignaz. In his eleventh year he sang in the Lichtenthal choir and shortly afterwards entered the Imperial Convict School, where for the next three or four years he made rapid progress in composition. In 1813 he returned home, and to avoid the conscription entered his father’s school as a teacher, where he remained for three years, doing drudgery but improving his leisure hours by studying with Salieri and devoting himself assiduously to composition. His life had few events in it to record. It was devoted entirely to teaching and composition. He wrote in almost every known form of music, but it was in the Lied that he has left the richest legacy to the world, and in that field he reigns with undisputed title. Unquestionably many of these songs were inspirations, like the “Erl King,” for instance, which came to him in the midst of a carousal. The most famous of them are to be found in the cycluses “Müllerlieder,”“Die Gesänge Ossians,” “Die Geistlichen Lieder,” “Die Winterreise,” and “Der Schwanengesang.” They are wonderful for their completeness, their expression of passion, their beauty and grace of form, the delicacy of their fancy, and their high artistic finish. Among the other great works he has left are the lovely “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” for male voices; “Die Allmacht;” “Prometheus;” “Miriam’s War Song;” the eight-part chorus “An den Heiligen Geist;” the “Momens Musicale;” impromptus and Hungarian fantasies for piano; the sonatas in C minor and B flat minor; nine symphonies, two of them unfinished; the trios in B flat and E flat; the quartets in D minor and G major; the quintet in C; two operas, “Alfonso and Estrella” and “Fierrabras;” the mass in G, which he wrote when but eighteen years of age, and the mass in E flat, which was his last church composition. His catalogued works number over a thousand. He died Nov. 19, 1828, and his last wish was to be buried by the side of Beethoven, who on his death-bed had recognized “the divine spark” in Schubert’s music. Three graves only separate the great masters of the Symphony and the Lied in the cemetery of Währing.Miriam’s War Song.The majestic cantata, “Miriam’s War Song,” was written in March, 1828, the last year of Schubert’slife,—a year which was rich, however, in the productions of his genius. The beautiful symphony in C, the mass in E flat, the string quartet in C, the three piano sonatas dedicated to Schumann, the eight-voiced “Hymn to the Holy Ghost,” the 92d Psalm, a “Tantum Ergo,” and several songs, among them “Am Strom,” “Der Hirt auf den Felsen,” and a part of the “Schwanengesang,” all belong to this year. The authorities differ as to the time of the first performance of “Miriam’s War Song.” Nottebohm in his catalogue says that it was first sung at a concert, Jan. 30, 1829, given for the purpose of raising funds to erect a monument in memory of the composer, who died on the 19th of the previous November. Others assert that Schubert was induced to give a concert, March 26, 1828, the programme being composed entirely of his own music, and that it was first heard on that occasion.The work is for soprano solo and chorus, the words by the poet Grillparzer, and the accompaniment, for the piano, as Schubert left it. He had intended arranging it for orchestra, but did not live to complete it. The work, however, was done a year or two afterwards by his friend Franz Lachner, at that time officiating as Capellmeister at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre in Vienna.The theme of the cantata is Miriam’s hymn of praise for the escape of the Israelites, and the exultant song of victory by the people, rejoicing not alone at their own delivery but at the destruction of the enemy. It opens with a spirited and broadharmony, “Strike the Cymbals,” changing to a calm and graceful song, describing the Lord as a shepherd leading his people forth from Egypt. The next number, depicting the awe of the Israelites as they passed through the divided waters, the approach of Pharaoh’s hosts, and their destruction, is worked up with great power. As the sea returns to its calm again, the opening chorus is repeated, closing with a powerful fugue. The cantata is short, but it is a work of imperishable beauty.SCHUMANN.Robert Schumann was born at Zwickau, in Saxony, June 8, 1810. In his earliest youth he was recognized as a child of genius. His first teacher in music was Baccalaureus Kuntzch, who gave him piano instruction. He studied the piano with Wieck, whose daughter Clara he subsequently married, now world-famous as a pianist. In 1830, in which year his artistic career really opened, he began the theoretical study of music, first with Director Kupsch in Leipsic and later with Heinrich Dorn, and at the same time entered upon the work of composition. Schumann was not only a musician but an able critic and graceful writer; and in 1834, with Schunke, Knorr, and Wieck, he founded the “Neue Zeitschrift für Musik,” which had an important influence upon musical progress in Germany, and in which the great promise of such musicians as Chopin and Brahms was first recognized. He married Clara Wieck in 1840, after much opposition from her father; and in this year appeared some of his best songs, including the three famous cycluses, “Liederkreis,”“Woman’s Life and Love,” and “Poet’s Love,” which now have a world-wide fame. In the following year larger works came from his pen, among them his B minor symphony, overture, scherzo, and finale in E major, and the symphony in D minor. During this period in his career he made many artistic journeys with his wife, which largely increased the reputation of both. In 1843 he completed his great “romantic oratorio,” “Paradise and the Peri,” set to Moore’s text, and many favorite songs and piano compositions, among them the “Phantasiestücke” and “Kinderscenen,” and his elegant piano quintet in E flat. In 1844, in company with his wife, he visited St. Petersburg and Moscow, and their reception was a royal one. The same year he abandoned his “Zeitschrift,” in which “Florestan,” “Master Raro,” “Eusebius,” and the other pseudonyms had become familiar all over Germany, and took the post of director in Düsseldorf, in the place of Ferdinand Hiller. During the last few years of his life he was the victim of profound melancholy, owing to an affection of the brain, and he even attempted suicide by throwing himself into the Rhine. He was then removed to an asylum at Endenich, where he died July 20, 1856. The two men who exercised most influence upon Schumann were Jean Paul and Franz Schubert. He was deeply pervaded with the romance of the one and the emotional feeling of the other. His work is characterized by genial humor, a rich and warm imagination, wonderfully beautiful instrumentation,especially in his accompaniments, the loftiest form of expression, and a rigid adherence to the canons of art.Advent Hymn.In a letter to Strakerjan, Schumann writes:—“To apply his powers to sacred music is the artist’s highest aim. But in youth we are all very firmly rooted to earth, with its joys and sorrows; in old age the twigs tend upwards. And so I hope that that day may not be too far distant from me.”The first of his works indicated in the above words to his friend was the “Advent Hymn,” written in 1848, based upon Rückert’s poem. It was followed later by a requiem and a mass, these comprising his only sacred music.The “Advent Hymn” describes the entry of Christ into Jerusalem, reflectively considers his peaceful career as compared with that of earthly kings, and appeals to His servants to bear tidings of Him throughout the world, closing with a prayer that He will bring His peace to all its people. It is a hymn full of simple devotion and somewhat narrow in its limitations; but Schumann has treated it with all the dignity and breadth of the oratorio style. It opens with a melodious soprano solo (“In lowly Guise thy King appeareth”), with choral responses by sopranos and altos, leading to an effectivefive-part chorus (“O King indeed, though no Man hail Thee”), begun by first and second tenors and basses, and closing in full harmony with the added female voices. The soprano voice again announces a subject (“Thy Servants faithful, Tidings bearing”), which is taken up by full chorus, in somewhat involved form, though closing in plain harmony. The third number (“When Thou the stormy Sea art crossing”) is given out by the soprano and repeated by the female chorus with a charming pianissimo effect. A few bars for male chorus (“Lord of Grace and Truth unfailing”) lead into full chorus. The fifth number (“Need is there for Thyself returning”), also choral, is very elaborately treated with interchanging harmonies and bold rhythms, leading up to the final choruses, which are very intricate in construction, but at the close resolve into a double chorus of great power and genuine religious exaltation.There are other works of Schumann’s which are more or less in the cantata form, such as “The King’s Son,” op. 116, set to a ballad of Uhland’s; “The New Year’s Song,” op. 144, poem by Rückert; “The Luck of Edenhall,” op. 143, poem by Uhland; “Of the Page and the King’s Daughter,” op. 140, poem by Geibel; the “Spanish Love Song,” op. 138; the “Minnespiel,” op. 101; and the “Ritornelle,” op. 65.The Pilgrimage of the Rose.“The Pilgrimage of the Rose,” for solo and chorus, with piano accompaniment, twenty-four numbers, was written in the spring of 1851, and was first performed May 6, 1852, at a Düsseldorf subscription concert. The story is taken from a somewhat vapid fairy-tale by Moritz Horn, and has little point or meaning. It turns upon the commonplace adventures of a young girl whose origin is disclosed by a rose which was never to fall from her hand.The principal numbers are the opening song, a joyous hymn to spring, in canon form, for two sopranos; the dancing choruses of the elves, for two sopranos and alto; the male chorus, “In the thick Wood,” which is very effective in harmony; the exultant bridal songs, “Why sound the Horns so gayly?” and “Now at the Miller’s;” the duet, “In the smiling Valley, ‘mid the Trees so green;” the Grave Song; the quartet, “Oh, Joy! foretaste of Heaven’s Rest;” and the duet, “I know a blushing Rosebud.”The work as a whole has never attained the popularity of his “Paradise and the Peri,” though detached numbers from it are frequently given with great success. The inadequacy of the poem has much to do with this; and it must also be remembered that it was written at a time when Schumann’s powers had begun to weaken under the strain of the mental disorder which finally proved fatal. Reissmann, in his analysis of the work, says:—“The man who had hitherto refused to allow even the simplest composition to flow from any but a distinct idea, who constantly strove to enter into relations with some distinct movement of the heart or the imagination, here grasped at a poem utterly destitute of any rational fundamental idea, and so arbitrary in execution, so tasteless in parts, that the musical inspiration it offered could never have moved any other composer to set it to music.”The Minstrel’s Curse.“The Minstrel’s Curse,” for solo voice, chorus and orchestra, was written in 1852, and first performed in the same year. Its text is based upon Uhland’s beautiful ballad of the same name, which was adapted for the composer by Richard Pohl. The libretto shows numerous variations from the original text. Some of the verses are literally followed, others are changed, and many new songs and motives are introduced. Several of Uhland’s other ballads are assigned to the minstrel, the youth, and the queen, among them “Die Drei Lieder,” “Entsagung,” and “Hohe Liebe,” as well as extracts from “Rudello,” “Lied des Deutschen Sängers,” “Gesang und Krieg,” and “Das Thal.” Instead of the beautiful verse in the original poem:—“They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,The king’s bold warriors bow before their God.The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,”—which leads up to the tragedy, it is the singing of the “Hohe Liebe” which is made the motive by Pohl, who from this point on follows the story as told by Uhland.The work contains fourteen numbers. The first two verses, describing the castle and its haughty monarch, are sung by the narrator, and are followed by an alto solo, very bright and joyous in style, which tells of the arrival of the two minstrels. The fourth number is a Provençal song, full of grace and poetical feeling, sung by the youth, followed by full chorus. The King angrily interposes in the next number, “Enough of Spring and Pleasure,” whereupon the harper sings a beautiful ballad interpolated by the librettist. The queen follows with a quiet, soothing strain, appealing for further songs, and in reply the youth and harper once more sing of spring. The youth’s powerful song of love, which changes to a trio in the close, the queen and harper joining, indicates the coming tragedy, and from this number on the chorus follows the story as told by Uhland, with great power and spirit. The general style of the work is declamatory, but in many of its episodes the ballad form is used with great skill and effect.SINGER.Otto Singer was born in Saxony, July 26, 1833, and attended the Leipsic Conservatory from 1851 to 1855, studying with Richter, Moscheles, and Hauptmann. In 1859 he went to Dresden and for two years thereafter studied with Liszt, of whom he was not only a favorite scholar but always a most zealous advocate. In 1867 he came to this country to take a position in the Conservatory at New York, then under the direction of Theodore Thomas and William Mason. In 1873, upon Mr. Thomas’s suggestion, he went to Cincinnati and became the assistant musical director of the festival chorus of that city, a position which he filled with eminent ability for several years. At the festival of 1878 he conducted the first performance of Liszt’s “Graner Mass” in this country, and also his own “Festival Ode” set to a poem by F. A. Schmitt, and written to commemorate the dedication of the new Music Hall. In the same year the Cincinnati College of Music was organized, and he was engaged as one of the principal instructors, a position which he still holds, and in which he hasdisplayed signal ability. Mr. Singer has written many compositions for piano and orchestra, and besides his “Festival Ode,” the cantata “Landing of the Pilgrims” (1876).The Landing of the Pilgrims.“The Landing of the Pilgrims,” written in 1876, was Mr. Singer’s Centennial offering to the patriotic music of that year. The text of the cantata is the familiar poem written by Mrs. Felicia Hemans, which was first set to music by her own sister, Miss Browne, though in somewhat different style from this work of the modern school.The cantata opens with an instrumental prelude which gives out the principal motive as we afterwards find it set to the words, “With their Hymns of lofty Cheer;” and truly lofty cheer it is, that antique, strong melody. Breathed softly at first, as from afar, it is repeated after a rapid crescendo with the whole weight of the orchestra, to melt away again on an organ point in more subdued tone-color. In the second movement (andante) it appears in quadruple time, augmented in its cadence by a chromatic harmony which serves well to enrich the working-up of this fine piece of orchestral writing. A short interlude containing the germ of a second theme, which afterwards appears at the words, “This was their Welcome Home,” now prepares the entrance of the voices. To the words, “The breaking Waves dashed high,” the basses and tenors give out the first motive,and after declaiming the stormy opening lines of the poem break forth in unison with “When a Band of Exiles moored their Bark on the wild New England Shore.” The time again changing, the composer very happily contrasts the phrases, “Not as a Conqueror comes” and “They the true-hearted came.” Soon, however, the ever-pliable principal theme falls into a martial stride, and a very effective setting of the words, “Not with the Roll of stirring Drums,” concludes the opening male chorus. Here follows the Centennial Hymn as given out in the beginning, sung first by an alto voice, and repeated by the full chorus of mixed voices. After the close, the orchestra, dreaming along in the spell, as it were, seems to spiritualize the sturdy Pilgrim Fathers into meek Pilgrims of the Cross,—a piece of exquisite tenderness, Liszt-Wagnerish, and yet beautiful. After some alto recitatives and short choral phrases, the leading theme once more enters with heavy martial step to the words, “There was Manhood’s Brow,” etc. The musical setting of the question, “What sought they?” etc., is cast in simpler form, and the response, “They sought a Faith’s pure Shrine,” is given in six measures,a capella, for five voices. This brings us to the last movement,andante maestoso. The leading motive, now contracted into one measure, is tossed about in the double basses as on the waves of a heavy surf until it reaches the climax on the words “Freedom to worship God.” The cantata forms a valuable addition to our musical literature, and was first sung by the Cincinnati Harmonic Society, of which Mr. Singer was leader at the time.

PARKER.Horatio W. Parker, a young American composer of more than ordinary promise, was born at Auburndale, Mass., Sept. 15, 1863. After his fifteenth year he began the study of music, taking his earlier lessons of the three Boston teachers, Stephen A. Emery, John Orth, and G. W. Chadwick. In 1882 he went to Munich and studied the organ and composition with Josef Rheinberger, for three years. In the spring of 1885 he wrote the cantata “King Trojan,” and it was produced for the first time in that city with success during the summer of the same year. Since then it has been given in this country by Mr. Jules Jordan, of Providence, R. I., Feb. 8, 1887. His string quartet in F major was played at a concert of the Buffalo Philharmonic Society in January, 1886; and a short scherzo was performed by the Van der Stücken orchestra in New York City in the same year. Besides these compositions, he has written three overtures, quite a number of songs and pieces for the piano-forte, and a symphony in C, and ballade for chorus andorchestra, both of which were played in Munich last year. In 1886 he accepted the professorship of music at the Cathedral School of St. Paul, Garden City, L. I., and in February, 1887, went to New York, where he now resides, to take charge of a boy choir in St. Andrew’s Church, Harlem.

Horatio W. Parker, a young American composer of more than ordinary promise, was born at Auburndale, Mass., Sept. 15, 1863. After his fifteenth year he began the study of music, taking his earlier lessons of the three Boston teachers, Stephen A. Emery, John Orth, and G. W. Chadwick. In 1882 he went to Munich and studied the organ and composition with Josef Rheinberger, for three years. In the spring of 1885 he wrote the cantata “King Trojan,” and it was produced for the first time in that city with success during the summer of the same year. Since then it has been given in this country by Mr. Jules Jordan, of Providence, R. I., Feb. 8, 1887. His string quartet in F major was played at a concert of the Buffalo Philharmonic Society in January, 1886; and a short scherzo was performed by the Van der Stücken orchestra in New York City in the same year. Besides these compositions, he has written three overtures, quite a number of songs and pieces for the piano-forte, and a symphony in C, and ballade for chorus andorchestra, both of which were played in Munich last year. In 1886 he accepted the professorship of music at the Cathedral School of St. Paul, Garden City, L. I., and in February, 1887, went to New York, where he now resides, to take charge of a boy choir in St. Andrew’s Church, Harlem.

King Trojan.“King Trojan,” composed for chorus, solos, and orchestra, was written in March, 1885, and first performed in July of the same year, at Munich. Its story is the poem of the same name, by Franz Alfred Muth, the English version being a free and excellent translation by the composer’s mother, Mrs. Isabella G. Parker, of Auburndale, Mass.After a short and graceful introduction, the cantata opens with a solo describing the quiet beauty of a summer night, daintily accompanied by wind instruments and harp. A second voice replies (“O Summer Night”), and then the two join in a very vigorous duet (“O fill thou Even with Light of Heaven”). A short solo for third voice leads up to a chorus which gives us a picture of King Trojan’s castle gleaming in the moonlight. It is followed by a very effective solo for the King (“The Horse is neighing, O Page of mine”), in which he bids his Page saddle his steed for a night ride to visit his distant love. The chorus intervenes with a reflective number (“What thinks she now?”), which is verydramatic in style, describing the mutual longing of the lovers to be together.The second scene opens with a short solo by the Page (“Up, up, O King, the Horses wait”), followed by the chorus as narrator, describing the ride of the King and his companion through the greenwood, with which is interwoven Trojan’s solo (“How sweet and cool is yet the Night”). In the next number, a vivacious allegro, the story of the ride is continued by the chorus, with a characteristic accompaniment, and again Trojan sings a charming tribute to the summer night, which is followed by responsive solos of the King and the Page, in the allegro and penseroso style,—the one singing of the raptures of night, the other of the gladness of day and sunlight. A passionate bit of recitative (“Now swift, ye Horses”) by Trojan reveals the secret of the King’s haste. He is King of the night, and the morning ray will be fatal to him. A short choral number (“And forward fly they”) brings the first part to a close with the arrival of the riders at the Queen’s castle.The second part opens with a beautiful solo, quartet, and chorus (“Good-Night, the Lindens whisper”), which describes the meeting of the lovers, while“Beneath the lofty castle gateSlumbers the page who so long must wait.Then crows the cock, the hour is late.”At this note of warning the Page appeals to his master to fly, for the sunlight will bring him painand harm. The dallying King replies, “Hark! how the Nightingale yet sings.” A small chorus intervenes with the warning, “Love is so fleeting, Night is so fair.” The Queen appeals to him, “What seest thou, O King?” To which Trojan replies with agitation, “The ruddy Morning, it is my Death.” Again comes the Page’s warning. The King springs up in alarm and hastens to his steed. In a choral presto movement the ride back is described. The King conceals himself in a dark thicket, hoping to escape, but the night has vanished and the day has begun. Its beams penetrate his refuge, and with a last despairing cry (“Accursed Light, I feel thee now”) he expires. A short choral passage, with harp accompaniment, brings this very dramatic and fanciful composition to a close:—“And from his horse the king now falls,He was but king of the night;The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,But death comes with morning light.”

“King Trojan,” composed for chorus, solos, and orchestra, was written in March, 1885, and first performed in July of the same year, at Munich. Its story is the poem of the same name, by Franz Alfred Muth, the English version being a free and excellent translation by the composer’s mother, Mrs. Isabella G. Parker, of Auburndale, Mass.

After a short and graceful introduction, the cantata opens with a solo describing the quiet beauty of a summer night, daintily accompanied by wind instruments and harp. A second voice replies (“O Summer Night”), and then the two join in a very vigorous duet (“O fill thou Even with Light of Heaven”). A short solo for third voice leads up to a chorus which gives us a picture of King Trojan’s castle gleaming in the moonlight. It is followed by a very effective solo for the King (“The Horse is neighing, O Page of mine”), in which he bids his Page saddle his steed for a night ride to visit his distant love. The chorus intervenes with a reflective number (“What thinks she now?”), which is verydramatic in style, describing the mutual longing of the lovers to be together.

The second scene opens with a short solo by the Page (“Up, up, O King, the Horses wait”), followed by the chorus as narrator, describing the ride of the King and his companion through the greenwood, with which is interwoven Trojan’s solo (“How sweet and cool is yet the Night”). In the next number, a vivacious allegro, the story of the ride is continued by the chorus, with a characteristic accompaniment, and again Trojan sings a charming tribute to the summer night, which is followed by responsive solos of the King and the Page, in the allegro and penseroso style,—the one singing of the raptures of night, the other of the gladness of day and sunlight. A passionate bit of recitative (“Now swift, ye Horses”) by Trojan reveals the secret of the King’s haste. He is King of the night, and the morning ray will be fatal to him. A short choral number (“And forward fly they”) brings the first part to a close with the arrival of the riders at the Queen’s castle.

The second part opens with a beautiful solo, quartet, and chorus (“Good-Night, the Lindens whisper”), which describes the meeting of the lovers, while

“Beneath the lofty castle gateSlumbers the page who so long must wait.Then crows the cock, the hour is late.”

“Beneath the lofty castle gateSlumbers the page who so long must wait.Then crows the cock, the hour is late.”

“Beneath the lofty castle gate

Slumbers the page who so long must wait.

Then crows the cock, the hour is late.”

At this note of warning the Page appeals to his master to fly, for the sunlight will bring him painand harm. The dallying King replies, “Hark! how the Nightingale yet sings.” A small chorus intervenes with the warning, “Love is so fleeting, Night is so fair.” The Queen appeals to him, “What seest thou, O King?” To which Trojan replies with agitation, “The ruddy Morning, it is my Death.” Again comes the Page’s warning. The King springs up in alarm and hastens to his steed. In a choral presto movement the ride back is described. The King conceals himself in a dark thicket, hoping to escape, but the night has vanished and the day has begun. Its beams penetrate his refuge, and with a last despairing cry (“Accursed Light, I feel thee now”) he expires. A short choral passage, with harp accompaniment, brings this very dramatic and fanciful composition to a close:—

“And from his horse the king now falls,He was but king of the night;The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,But death comes with morning light.”

“And from his horse the king now falls,He was but king of the night;The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,But death comes with morning light.”

“And from his horse the king now falls,

He was but king of the night;

The sunlight sparkles, the sunlight shines,

But death comes with morning light.”

PARKER.James C. D. Parker, an American composer, was born at Boston, Mass., June 2, 1828. He received his primary education in the schools of that city, was graduated from Harvard University in 1848, and immediately thereafter began the study of law. His love for music, however, was irresistible, and he soon dropped law-books and entered upon a thorough course of musical instruction, at first in Boston, and afterwards at the Conservatory in Leipsic, where he finished the regular course. He returned to Boston in 1854, and at once devoted himself to musical work in which he took a prominent part, and made an excellent reputation as pianist, organist, and teacher, as well as composer, though he has not as yet attempted any very large or ambitious works. In 1862 he organized an amateur vocal association under the name of the Parker Club, which has performed several works by Gade, Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Schumann, and others, with success. His most important composition is the “Redemption Hymn,” which hewrote for the Boston Handel and Haydn Society during the period he was its organist. He has also held the position of organist and choir-director of Trinity Church in that city, and of Professor of the College of Music connected with the Boston University. During his unostentatious career he has earned an enviable reputation as an earnest, honest musician deeply devoted to his art.

James C. D. Parker, an American composer, was born at Boston, Mass., June 2, 1828. He received his primary education in the schools of that city, was graduated from Harvard University in 1848, and immediately thereafter began the study of law. His love for music, however, was irresistible, and he soon dropped law-books and entered upon a thorough course of musical instruction, at first in Boston, and afterwards at the Conservatory in Leipsic, where he finished the regular course. He returned to Boston in 1854, and at once devoted himself to musical work in which he took a prominent part, and made an excellent reputation as pianist, organist, and teacher, as well as composer, though he has not as yet attempted any very large or ambitious works. In 1862 he organized an amateur vocal association under the name of the Parker Club, which has performed several works by Gade, Mendelssohn, Berlioz, Schumann, and others, with success. His most important composition is the “Redemption Hymn,” which hewrote for the Boston Handel and Haydn Society during the period he was its organist. He has also held the position of organist and choir-director of Trinity Church in that city, and of Professor of the College of Music connected with the Boston University. During his unostentatious career he has earned an enviable reputation as an earnest, honest musician deeply devoted to his art.

The Redemption Hymn.“The Redemption Hymn,” for alto solo and chorus, was written for the Fourth Triennial Festival of the Handel and Haydn Society, and was first given on that occasion, May 17, 1877, Anna Louise Cary-Raymond taking the solo. The words are taken from Isaiah li. 9-11.Chorus:—“Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!“Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.“Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!Solo and Chorus:—“Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”The work opens with a brief but spirited orchestral introduction, which leads to an exultant chorus (“Awake, O Arm of the Lord”), changing to awell-written fugue in the middle part (“Art thou not it?”), and returning to the first theme in the close. The next number is an effective alto solo (“Art thou not it which hath dried the Sea?”) alternating with chorus. It is followed by a slow movement for alto solo and chorus (“Therefore the Redeemed of the Lord shall return”), which closes very gracefully and tenderly on the words, “Sorrow and Mourning shall flee away.” This little work has become a favorite with singing societies, by the scholarly and effective manner in which it is written.

“The Redemption Hymn,” for alto solo and chorus, was written for the Fourth Triennial Festival of the Handel and Haydn Society, and was first given on that occasion, May 17, 1877, Anna Louise Cary-Raymond taking the solo. The words are taken from Isaiah li. 9-11.

Chorus:—“Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!“Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.“Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!Solo and Chorus:—“Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”

Chorus:—“Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!“Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.“Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!Solo and Chorus:—“Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”

Chorus:—“Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!

“Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old.

“Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab and wounded the dragon? Awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!

Solo and Chorus:—“Art thou not it that hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.”

The work opens with a brief but spirited orchestral introduction, which leads to an exultant chorus (“Awake, O Arm of the Lord”), changing to awell-written fugue in the middle part (“Art thou not it?”), and returning to the first theme in the close. The next number is an effective alto solo (“Art thou not it which hath dried the Sea?”) alternating with chorus. It is followed by a slow movement for alto solo and chorus (“Therefore the Redeemed of the Lord shall return”), which closes very gracefully and tenderly on the words, “Sorrow and Mourning shall flee away.” This little work has become a favorite with singing societies, by the scholarly and effective manner in which it is written.

RANDEGGER.Alberto Randegger was born at Trieste, April 13, 1832, and began the study of music at an early age with Lafont and Ricci. In his twentieth year he had written numerous minor pieces of church music, several masses and two ballets which were produced with success in his native city. From 1852 to 1854 he was engaged as a conductor in the theatres of Fiume, Zera, Brescia, and Venice. In the latter year he brought out a grand opera in Brescia, called “Bianca Capello,” shortly after which he went to London, where he has since resided and made a world-wide reputation as a teacher. In 1857 he conducted Italian opera at St. James’s Theatre; in 1864 brought out a comic opera, “The Rival Beauties,” at the Theatre Royal, Leeds; in 1868 was appointed Professor of Singing at the Royal Academy of Music, in which he has since become a director; in 1879-80 was conductor for the Carl Rosa English Opera Company at Her Majesty’s Theatre, London; and has since been appointed conductor of the Norwich Festival in theplace of Benedict. His principal works, besides those already mentioned, are: “Medea,” a scena, sung by Madame Rudersdorff at the Gewandhaus, Leipsic (1869); the One hundred and fiftieth Psalm, for soprano solo, chorus, orchestra, and organ (1872); cantata, “Fridolin” (1873); soprano scena, “Saffo” (1875); funeral anthem for the death of the Prince Consort; and a large number of songs which are great favorites on the concert-stage.

Alberto Randegger was born at Trieste, April 13, 1832, and began the study of music at an early age with Lafont and Ricci. In his twentieth year he had written numerous minor pieces of church music, several masses and two ballets which were produced with success in his native city. From 1852 to 1854 he was engaged as a conductor in the theatres of Fiume, Zera, Brescia, and Venice. In the latter year he brought out a grand opera in Brescia, called “Bianca Capello,” shortly after which he went to London, where he has since resided and made a world-wide reputation as a teacher. In 1857 he conducted Italian opera at St. James’s Theatre; in 1864 brought out a comic opera, “The Rival Beauties,” at the Theatre Royal, Leeds; in 1868 was appointed Professor of Singing at the Royal Academy of Music, in which he has since become a director; in 1879-80 was conductor for the Carl Rosa English Opera Company at Her Majesty’s Theatre, London; and has since been appointed conductor of the Norwich Festival in theplace of Benedict. His principal works, besides those already mentioned, are: “Medea,” a scena, sung by Madame Rudersdorff at the Gewandhaus, Leipsic (1869); the One hundred and fiftieth Psalm, for soprano solo, chorus, orchestra, and organ (1872); cantata, “Fridolin” (1873); soprano scena, “Saffo” (1875); funeral anthem for the death of the Prince Consort; and a large number of songs which are great favorites on the concert-stage.

Fridolin.“Fridolin, or the Message to the Forge” was written for the Birmingham Triennial Musical Festival of 1873. The words, by Mme. Erminia Rudersdorff, are founded on Schiller’s ballad, “Der Gang nach dem Eisenhammer.” Thedramatis personæare Waldemar, Count of Saverne; Eglantine, Countess of Saverne; Fridolin, page to the Countess; and Hubert, squire to the Count. The story closely follows that of Schiller. The preface to the piano score gives its details as follows:—“Fridolin and Hubert are in the service of the Count of Saverne. Hubert, aspiring to win the affections of his beautiful mistress, conceives a violent hatred of Fridolin, whom he regards as an obstacle in his path. Taking advantage of Fridolin’s loyal devotion to the Countess, Hubert excites the jealousy of the Count, and prompts a stern revenge. The Count forthwith writes to some mechanic serfs, ordering thatwhoever comes asking a certain question shall be at once thrown into their furnace. Fridolin, innocent of wrong and unconscious of danger, receives the ‘message to the forge;’ but, ere setting out, he waits upon his mistress for such commands as she might have to give. The Countess desires him to enter the chapel he would pass on his way and offer up a prayer for her. Fridolin obeys, and thus saves his own life; but vengeance overtakes the traitor Hubert, who, going to the forge to learn whether the plot has succeeded, himself asks the fatal question, ‘Is obeyed your lord’s command?’ and himself becomes the victim. Fridolin subsequently appears, and is about to perish likewise, when the Count and Countess, between whom explanations have taken place, arrive on the scene, to preserve the innocent and to learn the fate of the guilty.”The cantata opens with a short but stirring prelude, introducing the declamatory prologue-chorus:—“A pious youth was Fridolin,Who served the Lord with zeal,And did his duty faithfully,Come thereby woe or weal.For this when subtle foe conspiredAnd sought o’er him to boast,About his path in direst needKept guard the angel host.”The cantata proper opens with a recitative by Fridolin (“Arising from the Lap of star-clad Night”), leading up to the quiet, dreamy air, “None but holy, lofty Thoughts.” It is followed by a bass scena for Hubert (“Proceed thou, hateful Minion, on thy Path”) which opens in an agitated manner,but grows more reposeful and tender in style as the subject changes in the passage, “For one kind Glance from out those Eyes divine.” Again the scena changes and becomes vigorous in the recitative, “Dispelled by jealous Rage is Hope’s fond Dream,” set to an imposing accompaniment, and leading to a brilliant fiery allegro (“A thousand hideous Deaths I’d make him die”). The next number is a very graphic and spirited hunting-chorus (“Hark! the Morn awakes the Horn”), introduced and accompanied by the horns, and full of breezy, out-door feeling. A long dialogue follows between Hubert and the Count, somewhat gloomy in character, in which the former arouses his master’s jealous suspicions. The gloom still further deepens as Hubert suggests the manner of Fridolin’s death (“Mid yon gloomy Mountains”). Then follows the message to the forge by the Count in monotone phrases (“Mark, ye Serfs, your Lord’s Commands”) and the scene closes with a very dramatic duet (“Death and Destruction fall upon his Head”). In striking contrast with these stormy numbers comes the charming, graceful chorus of the handmaidens (“Calmly flow the equal Hours”), followed by a very expressive song for the Countess (“No Bliss can be so great”). A short scene in recitative leads up to a tender duet (“Above yon Sun, the Stars above”) for Fridolin and the Countess, closing with a powerful quartet for the four principal parts (“Now know I, Hubert, thou speakest true”).The ninth scene is admirably constructed. It opens with an animated and picturesque dance and chorus of villagers (“Song is resounding, Dancers are bounding”), which swings along in graceful rhythm until it is interrupted by a solemn phrase for organ, introduced by horns, which prepares the way for a chorale (“Guardian Angels sweet and fair”), closing with Fridolin’s prayer at the shrine, interwoven with a beautiful sacred chorus (“Sancta Maria, enthroned above”). In a recitative and ballad (“The wildest Conflicts rage within my fevered Soul”) the Count mourns over what he supposes to be the infidelity of his wife, followed by a long and very dramatic scene with the Countess (“My Waldemar, how erred thine Eglantine?”). The last scene is laid at the forge, and after a short but vigorous prelude opens with a chorus of the smiths (“Gift of Demons, raging Fire”), in which the composer has produced the effect of clanging anvils, roaring fire, and hissing sparks with wonderful realism. The chorus closes with passages describing the providential rescue of Fridolin and the fate of Hubert, and anandante religioso(“Let your Voices Anthems raise”). The epilogue is mainly choral, and ends this very dramatic work in broad flowing harmonies.

“Fridolin, or the Message to the Forge” was written for the Birmingham Triennial Musical Festival of 1873. The words, by Mme. Erminia Rudersdorff, are founded on Schiller’s ballad, “Der Gang nach dem Eisenhammer.” Thedramatis personæare Waldemar, Count of Saverne; Eglantine, Countess of Saverne; Fridolin, page to the Countess; and Hubert, squire to the Count. The story closely follows that of Schiller. The preface to the piano score gives its details as follows:—

“Fridolin and Hubert are in the service of the Count of Saverne. Hubert, aspiring to win the affections of his beautiful mistress, conceives a violent hatred of Fridolin, whom he regards as an obstacle in his path. Taking advantage of Fridolin’s loyal devotion to the Countess, Hubert excites the jealousy of the Count, and prompts a stern revenge. The Count forthwith writes to some mechanic serfs, ordering thatwhoever comes asking a certain question shall be at once thrown into their furnace. Fridolin, innocent of wrong and unconscious of danger, receives the ‘message to the forge;’ but, ere setting out, he waits upon his mistress for such commands as she might have to give. The Countess desires him to enter the chapel he would pass on his way and offer up a prayer for her. Fridolin obeys, and thus saves his own life; but vengeance overtakes the traitor Hubert, who, going to the forge to learn whether the plot has succeeded, himself asks the fatal question, ‘Is obeyed your lord’s command?’ and himself becomes the victim. Fridolin subsequently appears, and is about to perish likewise, when the Count and Countess, between whom explanations have taken place, arrive on the scene, to preserve the innocent and to learn the fate of the guilty.”

The cantata opens with a short but stirring prelude, introducing the declamatory prologue-chorus:—

“A pious youth was Fridolin,Who served the Lord with zeal,And did his duty faithfully,Come thereby woe or weal.For this when subtle foe conspiredAnd sought o’er him to boast,About his path in direst needKept guard the angel host.”

“A pious youth was Fridolin,Who served the Lord with zeal,And did his duty faithfully,Come thereby woe or weal.For this when subtle foe conspiredAnd sought o’er him to boast,About his path in direst needKept guard the angel host.”

“A pious youth was Fridolin,

Who served the Lord with zeal,

And did his duty faithfully,

Come thereby woe or weal.

For this when subtle foe conspired

And sought o’er him to boast,

About his path in direst need

Kept guard the angel host.”

The cantata proper opens with a recitative by Fridolin (“Arising from the Lap of star-clad Night”), leading up to the quiet, dreamy air, “None but holy, lofty Thoughts.” It is followed by a bass scena for Hubert (“Proceed thou, hateful Minion, on thy Path”) which opens in an agitated manner,but grows more reposeful and tender in style as the subject changes in the passage, “For one kind Glance from out those Eyes divine.” Again the scena changes and becomes vigorous in the recitative, “Dispelled by jealous Rage is Hope’s fond Dream,” set to an imposing accompaniment, and leading to a brilliant fiery allegro (“A thousand hideous Deaths I’d make him die”). The next number is a very graphic and spirited hunting-chorus (“Hark! the Morn awakes the Horn”), introduced and accompanied by the horns, and full of breezy, out-door feeling. A long dialogue follows between Hubert and the Count, somewhat gloomy in character, in which the former arouses his master’s jealous suspicions. The gloom still further deepens as Hubert suggests the manner of Fridolin’s death (“Mid yon gloomy Mountains”). Then follows the message to the forge by the Count in monotone phrases (“Mark, ye Serfs, your Lord’s Commands”) and the scene closes with a very dramatic duet (“Death and Destruction fall upon his Head”). In striking contrast with these stormy numbers comes the charming, graceful chorus of the handmaidens (“Calmly flow the equal Hours”), followed by a very expressive song for the Countess (“No Bliss can be so great”). A short scene in recitative leads up to a tender duet (“Above yon Sun, the Stars above”) for Fridolin and the Countess, closing with a powerful quartet for the four principal parts (“Now know I, Hubert, thou speakest true”).

The ninth scene is admirably constructed. It opens with an animated and picturesque dance and chorus of villagers (“Song is resounding, Dancers are bounding”), which swings along in graceful rhythm until it is interrupted by a solemn phrase for organ, introduced by horns, which prepares the way for a chorale (“Guardian Angels sweet and fair”), closing with Fridolin’s prayer at the shrine, interwoven with a beautiful sacred chorus (“Sancta Maria, enthroned above”). In a recitative and ballad (“The wildest Conflicts rage within my fevered Soul”) the Count mourns over what he supposes to be the infidelity of his wife, followed by a long and very dramatic scene with the Countess (“My Waldemar, how erred thine Eglantine?”). The last scene is laid at the forge, and after a short but vigorous prelude opens with a chorus of the smiths (“Gift of Demons, raging Fire”), in which the composer has produced the effect of clanging anvils, roaring fire, and hissing sparks with wonderful realism. The chorus closes with passages describing the providential rescue of Fridolin and the fate of Hubert, and anandante religioso(“Let your Voices Anthems raise”). The epilogue is mainly choral, and ends this very dramatic work in broad flowing harmonies.

RHEINBERGER.Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger was born at Vaduz, in Lichtenstein, March 17, 1839, and displayed his musical talent at a very early age. He studied the piano in his fifth year, and in his seventh was organist in the church of his native place. At the age of twelve he entered the Munich Conservatory, where he remained as a scholar until he was nineteen, when he was appointed one of its teachers; at the same time he became organist at the Hofkirche of St. Michael, and afterwards director of the Munich Oratorio Society. In 1867 he was appointed professor and inspector of the Royal Music School, and since 1877 has been the royal Hofkapellmeister, directing the performances of the Kapellchor, an organization similar to that of the Berlin Domchor. He is a very prolific composer, nearly two hundred works having proceeded from his pen. Among them are the “Wallenstein” and “Florentine” symphonies; a Stabat Mater; two operas, “The Seven Ravens” and “Thürmer’s Töchterlein;” incidental music to a drama of Calderon’s;a symphony-sonata for piano; a requiem for the dead in the Franco-German war; theme and variations for string quartet; a piano concerto; five organ sonatas; the choral works, “Toggenburg,” “Klärchen auf Eberstein,” “Wittekind,” and “Christophorus;” and a large number of songs and church pieces, besides much chamber music.

Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger was born at Vaduz, in Lichtenstein, March 17, 1839, and displayed his musical talent at a very early age. He studied the piano in his fifth year, and in his seventh was organist in the church of his native place. At the age of twelve he entered the Munich Conservatory, where he remained as a scholar until he was nineteen, when he was appointed one of its teachers; at the same time he became organist at the Hofkirche of St. Michael, and afterwards director of the Munich Oratorio Society. In 1867 he was appointed professor and inspector of the Royal Music School, and since 1877 has been the royal Hofkapellmeister, directing the performances of the Kapellchor, an organization similar to that of the Berlin Domchor. He is a very prolific composer, nearly two hundred works having proceeded from his pen. Among them are the “Wallenstein” and “Florentine” symphonies; a Stabat Mater; two operas, “The Seven Ravens” and “Thürmer’s Töchterlein;” incidental music to a drama of Calderon’s;a symphony-sonata for piano; a requiem for the dead in the Franco-German war; theme and variations for string quartet; a piano concerto; five organ sonatas; the choral works, “Toggenburg,” “Klärchen auf Eberstein,” “Wittekind,” and “Christophorus;” and a large number of songs and church pieces, besides much chamber music.

Christophorus.“Christophorus,” a legend, as Rheinberger calls it, was written in 1879, and is composed for barytone, soprano, and alto solos, chorus, and orchestra. Its subject is taken from the familiar story of the giant who bore the infant Christ across the flood. The chorus acts the part of narrator, and in its opening number relates the legend of Christophorus’ wanderings and his arrival before the castle whose master he would serve. He offers his services, but when they are accepted as an offering from the gods he haughtily declares that he only serves “for fame and chivalry.” A voice thereupon in an impressive solo (“Trust not this loud-voiced Stranger”) warns him away as an envoy of Satan, and the chorus repeats the warning. The giant departs with the intention of drawing his sword in Satan’s cause,—“For he alone must be lord of all,Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall.”In a very picturesque number the chorus describes his wanderings among the mountain crags androcks where Satan weaves his spells about him; and then suddenly changing to a tender, delicate strain (“Over us Stars shine”) anticipates the Voice, which in a sensuous aria (“Who is the sovereign Lord of the Heart?”) sings the power of love. In graceful chorus the spirits taunt him, whereupon he once more resolves to fly and to abandon the cause of Satan, but is thwarted by them. A weird chorus closes the first part (“Satan a-hunting is gone”), ending with an impressive strain:—“Stormily falleth the night:Frightened maidens fleeing,Demon hordes all around.‘A cross, see, upraised!Fly, master! too far we have come.Hallowed is the ground.’”The second part opens with a reflective soliloquy by the giant, followed by a plaintive chorus (“All now is lone and silent”) describing the suffering of our Saviour on the cross and the sadness of a hermit gazing upon the scene. The giant approaches the latter, and a dialogue ensues between them, in which the identity of the victim on the cross is revealed. Having found the King of the universe, Christophorus determines to devote himself to His cause, and inquires how he may serve Him. He is informed he must go to the swiftly-rolling river and carry the pilgrims across. A chanting chorus (“As flows the River seawards, so onward glide the Years”) describes the work of the faithful toiler. Then comes a voice calling him, and he beholds anInfant waiting for him. He takes Him upon his shoulders and bears Him into the flood, but as he advances, bends and struggles beneath his load “as though the whole world he bore.” He inquires the meaning, and the Voice replies:—“Thou bear’st the world and bearest its Creator:This Child is Jesus, God’s own Son.Soldier of Christ!Thine arms were charity and mercy,The arms of love.Now mayst rejoice:The prize of thy faith is won.”A joyful, exultant chorus, (“Blessed of Rivers, the Child embrace”) closes this very graceful little “legend.”

“Christophorus,” a legend, as Rheinberger calls it, was written in 1879, and is composed for barytone, soprano, and alto solos, chorus, and orchestra. Its subject is taken from the familiar story of the giant who bore the infant Christ across the flood. The chorus acts the part of narrator, and in its opening number relates the legend of Christophorus’ wanderings and his arrival before the castle whose master he would serve. He offers his services, but when they are accepted as an offering from the gods he haughtily declares that he only serves “for fame and chivalry.” A voice thereupon in an impressive solo (“Trust not this loud-voiced Stranger”) warns him away as an envoy of Satan, and the chorus repeats the warning. The giant departs with the intention of drawing his sword in Satan’s cause,—

“For he alone must be lord of all,Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall.”

“For he alone must be lord of all,Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall.”

“For he alone must be lord of all,

Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall.”

In a very picturesque number the chorus describes his wanderings among the mountain crags androcks where Satan weaves his spells about him; and then suddenly changing to a tender, delicate strain (“Over us Stars shine”) anticipates the Voice, which in a sensuous aria (“Who is the sovereign Lord of the Heart?”) sings the power of love. In graceful chorus the spirits taunt him, whereupon he once more resolves to fly and to abandon the cause of Satan, but is thwarted by them. A weird chorus closes the first part (“Satan a-hunting is gone”), ending with an impressive strain:—

“Stormily falleth the night:Frightened maidens fleeing,Demon hordes all around.‘A cross, see, upraised!Fly, master! too far we have come.Hallowed is the ground.’”

“Stormily falleth the night:Frightened maidens fleeing,Demon hordes all around.‘A cross, see, upraised!Fly, master! too far we have come.Hallowed is the ground.’”

“Stormily falleth the night:

Frightened maidens fleeing,

Demon hordes all around.

‘A cross, see, upraised!

Fly, master! too far we have come.

Hallowed is the ground.’”

The second part opens with a reflective soliloquy by the giant, followed by a plaintive chorus (“All now is lone and silent”) describing the suffering of our Saviour on the cross and the sadness of a hermit gazing upon the scene. The giant approaches the latter, and a dialogue ensues between them, in which the identity of the victim on the cross is revealed. Having found the King of the universe, Christophorus determines to devote himself to His cause, and inquires how he may serve Him. He is informed he must go to the swiftly-rolling river and carry the pilgrims across. A chanting chorus (“As flows the River seawards, so onward glide the Years”) describes the work of the faithful toiler. Then comes a voice calling him, and he beholds anInfant waiting for him. He takes Him upon his shoulders and bears Him into the flood, but as he advances, bends and struggles beneath his load “as though the whole world he bore.” He inquires the meaning, and the Voice replies:—

“Thou bear’st the world and bearest its Creator:This Child is Jesus, God’s own Son.Soldier of Christ!Thine arms were charity and mercy,The arms of love.Now mayst rejoice:The prize of thy faith is won.”

“Thou bear’st the world and bearest its Creator:This Child is Jesus, God’s own Son.Soldier of Christ!Thine arms were charity and mercy,The arms of love.Now mayst rejoice:The prize of thy faith is won.”

“Thou bear’st the world and bearest its Creator:

This Child is Jesus, God’s own Son.

Soldier of Christ!

Thine arms were charity and mercy,

The arms of love.

Now mayst rejoice:

The prize of thy faith is won.”

A joyful, exultant chorus, (“Blessed of Rivers, the Child embrace”) closes this very graceful little “legend.”

Toggenburg.“Toggenburg,” a cycle of ballads, was written in 1880. The music is for solos and mixed chorus, the ballads being linked together by motives, thus forming a connected whole. The story is a very simple one. The bright opening chorus (“At Toggenburg all is in festive Array”) describes the pageantry which has been prepared to welcome the return of Henry, Knight of Toggenburg, with his fair young Suabian bride, the Lady Etha. The chorus is followed by a duet and alto or barytone solo, which indicate the departure of the Knight for the wars, and the Lady Etha’s loss of the wedding ring. The next number, a solo quartet and chorus (“Ah! Huntsman, who gave thee the DiamondRing?”), is very dramatic in its delineation of the return of the victorious Knight, who, observing the ring on the finger of the huntsman, slays him, and then in a fit of jealousy hurls the Lady Etha from the tower where she was waving his welcome. The next number is a female chorus (“On mossy Bed her gentle Form reposes”), very slow in its movement and plaintive in character. It is followed by a weird and solemn chorus (“Through the Night rings the Horn’s Blast with Power”), picturing the mad ride of the Knight through the darkness, accompanied by the dismal notes of ravens and mysterious sounds like “greetings from the dead,” which only cease when he discovers the corpse of his lady with the cross on its breast. A short closing chorus, funereal in style, ends the mournful story:—“Toggenburg all is in mourning array,The banners wave, the gate stands wide,Count Henry returns to his home this day,In death he anew has won his bride.Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,Where flickering tapers are ranged around,And far through the night in the valley are heardThe chants of the monks with their mournful sound.”Though the work has somewhat both of the Schumann and Mendelssohn sentiment in it, it is nevertheless original and characteristic in treatment. The melodies are pleasing throughout, and cover a wide range of expression, reaching from the tenderness of love to the madness of jealousy, and thence on to the elegiac finale.

“Toggenburg,” a cycle of ballads, was written in 1880. The music is for solos and mixed chorus, the ballads being linked together by motives, thus forming a connected whole. The story is a very simple one. The bright opening chorus (“At Toggenburg all is in festive Array”) describes the pageantry which has been prepared to welcome the return of Henry, Knight of Toggenburg, with his fair young Suabian bride, the Lady Etha. The chorus is followed by a duet and alto or barytone solo, which indicate the departure of the Knight for the wars, and the Lady Etha’s loss of the wedding ring. The next number, a solo quartet and chorus (“Ah! Huntsman, who gave thee the DiamondRing?”), is very dramatic in its delineation of the return of the victorious Knight, who, observing the ring on the finger of the huntsman, slays him, and then in a fit of jealousy hurls the Lady Etha from the tower where she was waving his welcome. The next number is a female chorus (“On mossy Bed her gentle Form reposes”), very slow in its movement and plaintive in character. It is followed by a weird and solemn chorus (“Through the Night rings the Horn’s Blast with Power”), picturing the mad ride of the Knight through the darkness, accompanied by the dismal notes of ravens and mysterious sounds like “greetings from the dead,” which only cease when he discovers the corpse of his lady with the cross on its breast. A short closing chorus, funereal in style, ends the mournful story:—

“Toggenburg all is in mourning array,The banners wave, the gate stands wide,Count Henry returns to his home this day,In death he anew has won his bride.Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,Where flickering tapers are ranged around,And far through the night in the valley are heardThe chants of the monks with their mournful sound.”

“Toggenburg all is in mourning array,The banners wave, the gate stands wide,Count Henry returns to his home this day,In death he anew has won his bride.Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,Where flickering tapers are ranged around,And far through the night in the valley are heardThe chants of the monks with their mournful sound.”

“Toggenburg all is in mourning array,

The banners wave, the gate stands wide,

Count Henry returns to his home this day,

In death he anew has won his bride.

Once more for their coming the hall is prepared,

Where flickering tapers are ranged around,

And far through the night in the valley are heard

The chants of the monks with their mournful sound.”

Though the work has somewhat both of the Schumann and Mendelssohn sentiment in it, it is nevertheless original and characteristic in treatment. The melodies are pleasing throughout, and cover a wide range of expression, reaching from the tenderness of love to the madness of jealousy, and thence on to the elegiac finale.

ROMBERG.Andreas Romberg was born April 27, 1767, at Vechte, near Münster. At a very early age he was celebrated as a violinist. In his seventeenth year he made afurorby his playing at the Concerts Spirituels, Paris. In 1790, with his cousin Bernhard, who was even more celebrated as a violoncellist (indeed the Rombergs, like the Bachs, were all musicians), he played in the Elector’s band, and also went with him to Rome, where the cousins gave concerts together under the patronage of one of the cardinals. During the next four years Andreas travelled in Austria and France, and during his stay at Vienna made the acquaintance of Haydn, who was very much interested in his musical work. In 1800 he brought out an opera in Paris which made a failure. He then left for Hamburg, where he married and remained many years. In 1820 he was appointed court capellmeister at Gotha, and died there in the following year. Among his compositions are six symphonies; five operas, “Das graue Ungeheuer,” “Die Macht der Musik,”“Der Rabe,” “Die Grossmuth des Scipio,” and “Die Ruinen zu Paluzzi;” and several cantatas, quartets, quintets, and church compositions. Of all his works, however, his “Lay of the Bell” is the best known. A few years ago it was the stock piece of nearly every choral society in Germany, England, and the United States; and though now relegated to the repertory of old-fashioned music, it is still very popular.

Andreas Romberg was born April 27, 1767, at Vechte, near Münster. At a very early age he was celebrated as a violinist. In his seventeenth year he made afurorby his playing at the Concerts Spirituels, Paris. In 1790, with his cousin Bernhard, who was even more celebrated as a violoncellist (indeed the Rombergs, like the Bachs, were all musicians), he played in the Elector’s band, and also went with him to Rome, where the cousins gave concerts together under the patronage of one of the cardinals. During the next four years Andreas travelled in Austria and France, and during his stay at Vienna made the acquaintance of Haydn, who was very much interested in his musical work. In 1800 he brought out an opera in Paris which made a failure. He then left for Hamburg, where he married and remained many years. In 1820 he was appointed court capellmeister at Gotha, and died there in the following year. Among his compositions are six symphonies; five operas, “Das graue Ungeheuer,” “Die Macht der Musik,”“Der Rabe,” “Die Grossmuth des Scipio,” and “Die Ruinen zu Paluzzi;” and several cantatas, quartets, quintets, and church compositions. Of all his works, however, his “Lay of the Bell” is the best known. A few years ago it was the stock piece of nearly every choral society in Germany, England, and the United States; and though now relegated to the repertory of old-fashioned music, it is still very popular.

Lay of the Bell.The “Lay of the Bell” was composed in 1808, the music being set to Schiller’s famous poem of the same name, whose stately measures are well adapted to musical treatment. It opens with a bass solo by the Master, urging on the workmen:—“In the earth right firmly planted,Stands well baked the mould of clay:Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;Let the bell be born to-day.”The full chorus responds in a rather didactic strain (“The Labor we prepare in Earnest”), and as it closes the Master gives his directions for lighting the fire in the furnace and mixing the metals. In this manner the work progresses, the Master issuing his orders until the bell is ready for the casting, the solo singers or chorus replying with sentiments naturally suggested by the process and the future work of the bell. The first of these responses isthe chorus, “What in the Earth profoundly hidden,” a smoothly flowing number followed by a soprano solo (“For with a Burst of joyous Clangor”), a pleasantly-rippling melody picturing the joys of childhood, and a spirited tenor solo (“The Youth, Girl-playmates proudly leaving”) indicating the dawn of the tender passion which broadens out into love, as the two voices join in the charming duet, “O tender Longing, Hope delightsome.” The bass still further emphasizes their delight in the recitative, “When stern and gentle Troth have plighted,” leading up to a long but interesting tenor solo (“Though Passion gives way”) which describes the homely joys of domestic life. The male chorus thereupon takes up the story in a joyful strain (“And the good Man with cheerful Eye”), and tells us of the prosperity of the happy pair and the good man’s boast,—“Firm as the solid earth,Safe from misfortune’s hand,Long shall my dwelling stand;”to which comes the ominous response of the female chorus:—“Yet none may with Fate supernalEver form a league eternal;And misfortune swiftly strides.”The Master now gives the signal to release the metal into the mould, whereupon follows a stirring and picturesque chorus (“Right helpful is the Might of Fire”) describing the terrors of fire, thewild alarm, the fright and confusion of the people, the clanging bells and crackling flames, and the final destruction of the homestead, closing the first part.The second part opens with the anxious orders of the Master to cease from work and await the result of the casting. The chorus takes up a slow and stately measure (“To Mother Earth our Work committing”) which closes in a mournful finale describing the passing funeral train, followed by a pathetic soprano solo which tells the sad story of the death of the good man’s wife, while “To the orphaned Home a Stranger comes unloving Rule to bear.” The scene now changes from a desolate to a happy home as the Master bids the workmen seek their pleasure while the bell is cooling. A soprano solo takes up a cheery strain (“Wends the weary Wanderer”), picturing the harvest home, the dance of the youthful reapers, and the joys of evening by the fireside, followed by a tribute to patriotism, sung by tenor and bass, the pleasant scene closing with an exultant full chorus (“Thousand active Hands combining”). The Master then gives the order to break the mould, and in contemplation of the ruin which might have been caused had the metal burst it, the chorus breaks out in strong, startling phrases picturing the horrors of civil strife (“The Master’s Hand the Mould may shatter”). The work, however, is complete and successful, and in the true spirit of German Gemüthlichkeit the Master summons his workmen:—“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,Upon our bell invoke a blessing.‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:In concord and in love of one another,Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”The cantata closes with a last invocation on the part of the Master, followed by a jubilant chorus (“She is moving, She is moving”).

The “Lay of the Bell” was composed in 1808, the music being set to Schiller’s famous poem of the same name, whose stately measures are well adapted to musical treatment. It opens with a bass solo by the Master, urging on the workmen:—

“In the earth right firmly planted,Stands well baked the mould of clay:Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;Let the bell be born to-day.”

“In the earth right firmly planted,Stands well baked the mould of clay:Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;Let the bell be born to-day.”

“In the earth right firmly planted,

Stands well baked the mould of clay:

Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;

Let the bell be born to-day.”

The full chorus responds in a rather didactic strain (“The Labor we prepare in Earnest”), and as it closes the Master gives his directions for lighting the fire in the furnace and mixing the metals. In this manner the work progresses, the Master issuing his orders until the bell is ready for the casting, the solo singers or chorus replying with sentiments naturally suggested by the process and the future work of the bell. The first of these responses isthe chorus, “What in the Earth profoundly hidden,” a smoothly flowing number followed by a soprano solo (“For with a Burst of joyous Clangor”), a pleasantly-rippling melody picturing the joys of childhood, and a spirited tenor solo (“The Youth, Girl-playmates proudly leaving”) indicating the dawn of the tender passion which broadens out into love, as the two voices join in the charming duet, “O tender Longing, Hope delightsome.” The bass still further emphasizes their delight in the recitative, “When stern and gentle Troth have plighted,” leading up to a long but interesting tenor solo (“Though Passion gives way”) which describes the homely joys of domestic life. The male chorus thereupon takes up the story in a joyful strain (“And the good Man with cheerful Eye”), and tells us of the prosperity of the happy pair and the good man’s boast,—

“Firm as the solid earth,Safe from misfortune’s hand,Long shall my dwelling stand;”

“Firm as the solid earth,Safe from misfortune’s hand,Long shall my dwelling stand;”

“Firm as the solid earth,

Safe from misfortune’s hand,

Long shall my dwelling stand;”

to which comes the ominous response of the female chorus:—

“Yet none may with Fate supernalEver form a league eternal;And misfortune swiftly strides.”

“Yet none may with Fate supernalEver form a league eternal;And misfortune swiftly strides.”

“Yet none may with Fate supernal

Ever form a league eternal;

And misfortune swiftly strides.”

The Master now gives the signal to release the metal into the mould, whereupon follows a stirring and picturesque chorus (“Right helpful is the Might of Fire”) describing the terrors of fire, thewild alarm, the fright and confusion of the people, the clanging bells and crackling flames, and the final destruction of the homestead, closing the first part.

The second part opens with the anxious orders of the Master to cease from work and await the result of the casting. The chorus takes up a slow and stately measure (“To Mother Earth our Work committing”) which closes in a mournful finale describing the passing funeral train, followed by a pathetic soprano solo which tells the sad story of the death of the good man’s wife, while “To the orphaned Home a Stranger comes unloving Rule to bear.” The scene now changes from a desolate to a happy home as the Master bids the workmen seek their pleasure while the bell is cooling. A soprano solo takes up a cheery strain (“Wends the weary Wanderer”), picturing the harvest home, the dance of the youthful reapers, and the joys of evening by the fireside, followed by a tribute to patriotism, sung by tenor and bass, the pleasant scene closing with an exultant full chorus (“Thousand active Hands combining”). The Master then gives the order to break the mould, and in contemplation of the ruin which might have been caused had the metal burst it, the chorus breaks out in strong, startling phrases picturing the horrors of civil strife (“The Master’s Hand the Mould may shatter”). The work, however, is complete and successful, and in the true spirit of German Gemüthlichkeit the Master summons his workmen:—

“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,Upon our bell invoke a blessing.‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:In concord and in love of one another,Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”

“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,Upon our bell invoke a blessing.‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:In concord and in love of one another,Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”

“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,

Upon our bell invoke a blessing.

‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:

In concord and in love of one another,

Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”

The cantata closes with a last invocation on the part of the Master, followed by a jubilant chorus (“She is moving, She is moving”).

SCHUBERT.Franz Peter Schubert was born in Vienna, Jan. 31, 1797, and received his first musical lessons from his father and his elder brother Ignaz. In his eleventh year he sang in the Lichtenthal choir and shortly afterwards entered the Imperial Convict School, where for the next three or four years he made rapid progress in composition. In 1813 he returned home, and to avoid the conscription entered his father’s school as a teacher, where he remained for three years, doing drudgery but improving his leisure hours by studying with Salieri and devoting himself assiduously to composition. His life had few events in it to record. It was devoted entirely to teaching and composition. He wrote in almost every known form of music, but it was in the Lied that he has left the richest legacy to the world, and in that field he reigns with undisputed title. Unquestionably many of these songs were inspirations, like the “Erl King,” for instance, which came to him in the midst of a carousal. The most famous of them are to be found in the cycluses “Müllerlieder,”“Die Gesänge Ossians,” “Die Geistlichen Lieder,” “Die Winterreise,” and “Der Schwanengesang.” They are wonderful for their completeness, their expression of passion, their beauty and grace of form, the delicacy of their fancy, and their high artistic finish. Among the other great works he has left are the lovely “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” for male voices; “Die Allmacht;” “Prometheus;” “Miriam’s War Song;” the eight-part chorus “An den Heiligen Geist;” the “Momens Musicale;” impromptus and Hungarian fantasies for piano; the sonatas in C minor and B flat minor; nine symphonies, two of them unfinished; the trios in B flat and E flat; the quartets in D minor and G major; the quintet in C; two operas, “Alfonso and Estrella” and “Fierrabras;” the mass in G, which he wrote when but eighteen years of age, and the mass in E flat, which was his last church composition. His catalogued works number over a thousand. He died Nov. 19, 1828, and his last wish was to be buried by the side of Beethoven, who on his death-bed had recognized “the divine spark” in Schubert’s music. Three graves only separate the great masters of the Symphony and the Lied in the cemetery of Währing.

Franz Peter Schubert was born in Vienna, Jan. 31, 1797, and received his first musical lessons from his father and his elder brother Ignaz. In his eleventh year he sang in the Lichtenthal choir and shortly afterwards entered the Imperial Convict School, where for the next three or four years he made rapid progress in composition. In 1813 he returned home, and to avoid the conscription entered his father’s school as a teacher, where he remained for three years, doing drudgery but improving his leisure hours by studying with Salieri and devoting himself assiduously to composition. His life had few events in it to record. It was devoted entirely to teaching and composition. He wrote in almost every known form of music, but it was in the Lied that he has left the richest legacy to the world, and in that field he reigns with undisputed title. Unquestionably many of these songs were inspirations, like the “Erl King,” for instance, which came to him in the midst of a carousal. The most famous of them are to be found in the cycluses “Müllerlieder,”“Die Gesänge Ossians,” “Die Geistlichen Lieder,” “Die Winterreise,” and “Der Schwanengesang.” They are wonderful for their completeness, their expression of passion, their beauty and grace of form, the delicacy of their fancy, and their high artistic finish. Among the other great works he has left are the lovely “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” for male voices; “Die Allmacht;” “Prometheus;” “Miriam’s War Song;” the eight-part chorus “An den Heiligen Geist;” the “Momens Musicale;” impromptus and Hungarian fantasies for piano; the sonatas in C minor and B flat minor; nine symphonies, two of them unfinished; the trios in B flat and E flat; the quartets in D minor and G major; the quintet in C; two operas, “Alfonso and Estrella” and “Fierrabras;” the mass in G, which he wrote when but eighteen years of age, and the mass in E flat, which was his last church composition. His catalogued works number over a thousand. He died Nov. 19, 1828, and his last wish was to be buried by the side of Beethoven, who on his death-bed had recognized “the divine spark” in Schubert’s music. Three graves only separate the great masters of the Symphony and the Lied in the cemetery of Währing.

Miriam’s War Song.The majestic cantata, “Miriam’s War Song,” was written in March, 1828, the last year of Schubert’slife,—a year which was rich, however, in the productions of his genius. The beautiful symphony in C, the mass in E flat, the string quartet in C, the three piano sonatas dedicated to Schumann, the eight-voiced “Hymn to the Holy Ghost,” the 92d Psalm, a “Tantum Ergo,” and several songs, among them “Am Strom,” “Der Hirt auf den Felsen,” and a part of the “Schwanengesang,” all belong to this year. The authorities differ as to the time of the first performance of “Miriam’s War Song.” Nottebohm in his catalogue says that it was first sung at a concert, Jan. 30, 1829, given for the purpose of raising funds to erect a monument in memory of the composer, who died on the 19th of the previous November. Others assert that Schubert was induced to give a concert, March 26, 1828, the programme being composed entirely of his own music, and that it was first heard on that occasion.The work is for soprano solo and chorus, the words by the poet Grillparzer, and the accompaniment, for the piano, as Schubert left it. He had intended arranging it for orchestra, but did not live to complete it. The work, however, was done a year or two afterwards by his friend Franz Lachner, at that time officiating as Capellmeister at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre in Vienna.The theme of the cantata is Miriam’s hymn of praise for the escape of the Israelites, and the exultant song of victory by the people, rejoicing not alone at their own delivery but at the destruction of the enemy. It opens with a spirited and broadharmony, “Strike the Cymbals,” changing to a calm and graceful song, describing the Lord as a shepherd leading his people forth from Egypt. The next number, depicting the awe of the Israelites as they passed through the divided waters, the approach of Pharaoh’s hosts, and their destruction, is worked up with great power. As the sea returns to its calm again, the opening chorus is repeated, closing with a powerful fugue. The cantata is short, but it is a work of imperishable beauty.

The majestic cantata, “Miriam’s War Song,” was written in March, 1828, the last year of Schubert’slife,—a year which was rich, however, in the productions of his genius. The beautiful symphony in C, the mass in E flat, the string quartet in C, the three piano sonatas dedicated to Schumann, the eight-voiced “Hymn to the Holy Ghost,” the 92d Psalm, a “Tantum Ergo,” and several songs, among them “Am Strom,” “Der Hirt auf den Felsen,” and a part of the “Schwanengesang,” all belong to this year. The authorities differ as to the time of the first performance of “Miriam’s War Song.” Nottebohm in his catalogue says that it was first sung at a concert, Jan. 30, 1829, given for the purpose of raising funds to erect a monument in memory of the composer, who died on the 19th of the previous November. Others assert that Schubert was induced to give a concert, March 26, 1828, the programme being composed entirely of his own music, and that it was first heard on that occasion.

The work is for soprano solo and chorus, the words by the poet Grillparzer, and the accompaniment, for the piano, as Schubert left it. He had intended arranging it for orchestra, but did not live to complete it. The work, however, was done a year or two afterwards by his friend Franz Lachner, at that time officiating as Capellmeister at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre in Vienna.

The theme of the cantata is Miriam’s hymn of praise for the escape of the Israelites, and the exultant song of victory by the people, rejoicing not alone at their own delivery but at the destruction of the enemy. It opens with a spirited and broadharmony, “Strike the Cymbals,” changing to a calm and graceful song, describing the Lord as a shepherd leading his people forth from Egypt. The next number, depicting the awe of the Israelites as they passed through the divided waters, the approach of Pharaoh’s hosts, and their destruction, is worked up with great power. As the sea returns to its calm again, the opening chorus is repeated, closing with a powerful fugue. The cantata is short, but it is a work of imperishable beauty.

SCHUMANN.Robert Schumann was born at Zwickau, in Saxony, June 8, 1810. In his earliest youth he was recognized as a child of genius. His first teacher in music was Baccalaureus Kuntzch, who gave him piano instruction. He studied the piano with Wieck, whose daughter Clara he subsequently married, now world-famous as a pianist. In 1830, in which year his artistic career really opened, he began the theoretical study of music, first with Director Kupsch in Leipsic and later with Heinrich Dorn, and at the same time entered upon the work of composition. Schumann was not only a musician but an able critic and graceful writer; and in 1834, with Schunke, Knorr, and Wieck, he founded the “Neue Zeitschrift für Musik,” which had an important influence upon musical progress in Germany, and in which the great promise of such musicians as Chopin and Brahms was first recognized. He married Clara Wieck in 1840, after much opposition from her father; and in this year appeared some of his best songs, including the three famous cycluses, “Liederkreis,”“Woman’s Life and Love,” and “Poet’s Love,” which now have a world-wide fame. In the following year larger works came from his pen, among them his B minor symphony, overture, scherzo, and finale in E major, and the symphony in D minor. During this period in his career he made many artistic journeys with his wife, which largely increased the reputation of both. In 1843 he completed his great “romantic oratorio,” “Paradise and the Peri,” set to Moore’s text, and many favorite songs and piano compositions, among them the “Phantasiestücke” and “Kinderscenen,” and his elegant piano quintet in E flat. In 1844, in company with his wife, he visited St. Petersburg and Moscow, and their reception was a royal one. The same year he abandoned his “Zeitschrift,” in which “Florestan,” “Master Raro,” “Eusebius,” and the other pseudonyms had become familiar all over Germany, and took the post of director in Düsseldorf, in the place of Ferdinand Hiller. During the last few years of his life he was the victim of profound melancholy, owing to an affection of the brain, and he even attempted suicide by throwing himself into the Rhine. He was then removed to an asylum at Endenich, where he died July 20, 1856. The two men who exercised most influence upon Schumann were Jean Paul and Franz Schubert. He was deeply pervaded with the romance of the one and the emotional feeling of the other. His work is characterized by genial humor, a rich and warm imagination, wonderfully beautiful instrumentation,especially in his accompaniments, the loftiest form of expression, and a rigid adherence to the canons of art.

Robert Schumann was born at Zwickau, in Saxony, June 8, 1810. In his earliest youth he was recognized as a child of genius. His first teacher in music was Baccalaureus Kuntzch, who gave him piano instruction. He studied the piano with Wieck, whose daughter Clara he subsequently married, now world-famous as a pianist. In 1830, in which year his artistic career really opened, he began the theoretical study of music, first with Director Kupsch in Leipsic and later with Heinrich Dorn, and at the same time entered upon the work of composition. Schumann was not only a musician but an able critic and graceful writer; and in 1834, with Schunke, Knorr, and Wieck, he founded the “Neue Zeitschrift für Musik,” which had an important influence upon musical progress in Germany, and in which the great promise of such musicians as Chopin and Brahms was first recognized. He married Clara Wieck in 1840, after much opposition from her father; and in this year appeared some of his best songs, including the three famous cycluses, “Liederkreis,”“Woman’s Life and Love,” and “Poet’s Love,” which now have a world-wide fame. In the following year larger works came from his pen, among them his B minor symphony, overture, scherzo, and finale in E major, and the symphony in D minor. During this period in his career he made many artistic journeys with his wife, which largely increased the reputation of both. In 1843 he completed his great “romantic oratorio,” “Paradise and the Peri,” set to Moore’s text, and many favorite songs and piano compositions, among them the “Phantasiestücke” and “Kinderscenen,” and his elegant piano quintet in E flat. In 1844, in company with his wife, he visited St. Petersburg and Moscow, and their reception was a royal one. The same year he abandoned his “Zeitschrift,” in which “Florestan,” “Master Raro,” “Eusebius,” and the other pseudonyms had become familiar all over Germany, and took the post of director in Düsseldorf, in the place of Ferdinand Hiller. During the last few years of his life he was the victim of profound melancholy, owing to an affection of the brain, and he even attempted suicide by throwing himself into the Rhine. He was then removed to an asylum at Endenich, where he died July 20, 1856. The two men who exercised most influence upon Schumann were Jean Paul and Franz Schubert. He was deeply pervaded with the romance of the one and the emotional feeling of the other. His work is characterized by genial humor, a rich and warm imagination, wonderfully beautiful instrumentation,especially in his accompaniments, the loftiest form of expression, and a rigid adherence to the canons of art.

Advent Hymn.In a letter to Strakerjan, Schumann writes:—“To apply his powers to sacred music is the artist’s highest aim. But in youth we are all very firmly rooted to earth, with its joys and sorrows; in old age the twigs tend upwards. And so I hope that that day may not be too far distant from me.”The first of his works indicated in the above words to his friend was the “Advent Hymn,” written in 1848, based upon Rückert’s poem. It was followed later by a requiem and a mass, these comprising his only sacred music.The “Advent Hymn” describes the entry of Christ into Jerusalem, reflectively considers his peaceful career as compared with that of earthly kings, and appeals to His servants to bear tidings of Him throughout the world, closing with a prayer that He will bring His peace to all its people. It is a hymn full of simple devotion and somewhat narrow in its limitations; but Schumann has treated it with all the dignity and breadth of the oratorio style. It opens with a melodious soprano solo (“In lowly Guise thy King appeareth”), with choral responses by sopranos and altos, leading to an effectivefive-part chorus (“O King indeed, though no Man hail Thee”), begun by first and second tenors and basses, and closing in full harmony with the added female voices. The soprano voice again announces a subject (“Thy Servants faithful, Tidings bearing”), which is taken up by full chorus, in somewhat involved form, though closing in plain harmony. The third number (“When Thou the stormy Sea art crossing”) is given out by the soprano and repeated by the female chorus with a charming pianissimo effect. A few bars for male chorus (“Lord of Grace and Truth unfailing”) lead into full chorus. The fifth number (“Need is there for Thyself returning”), also choral, is very elaborately treated with interchanging harmonies and bold rhythms, leading up to the final choruses, which are very intricate in construction, but at the close resolve into a double chorus of great power and genuine religious exaltation.There are other works of Schumann’s which are more or less in the cantata form, such as “The King’s Son,” op. 116, set to a ballad of Uhland’s; “The New Year’s Song,” op. 144, poem by Rückert; “The Luck of Edenhall,” op. 143, poem by Uhland; “Of the Page and the King’s Daughter,” op. 140, poem by Geibel; the “Spanish Love Song,” op. 138; the “Minnespiel,” op. 101; and the “Ritornelle,” op. 65.

In a letter to Strakerjan, Schumann writes:—

“To apply his powers to sacred music is the artist’s highest aim. But in youth we are all very firmly rooted to earth, with its joys and sorrows; in old age the twigs tend upwards. And so I hope that that day may not be too far distant from me.”

The first of his works indicated in the above words to his friend was the “Advent Hymn,” written in 1848, based upon Rückert’s poem. It was followed later by a requiem and a mass, these comprising his only sacred music.

The “Advent Hymn” describes the entry of Christ into Jerusalem, reflectively considers his peaceful career as compared with that of earthly kings, and appeals to His servants to bear tidings of Him throughout the world, closing with a prayer that He will bring His peace to all its people. It is a hymn full of simple devotion and somewhat narrow in its limitations; but Schumann has treated it with all the dignity and breadth of the oratorio style. It opens with a melodious soprano solo (“In lowly Guise thy King appeareth”), with choral responses by sopranos and altos, leading to an effectivefive-part chorus (“O King indeed, though no Man hail Thee”), begun by first and second tenors and basses, and closing in full harmony with the added female voices. The soprano voice again announces a subject (“Thy Servants faithful, Tidings bearing”), which is taken up by full chorus, in somewhat involved form, though closing in plain harmony. The third number (“When Thou the stormy Sea art crossing”) is given out by the soprano and repeated by the female chorus with a charming pianissimo effect. A few bars for male chorus (“Lord of Grace and Truth unfailing”) lead into full chorus. The fifth number (“Need is there for Thyself returning”), also choral, is very elaborately treated with interchanging harmonies and bold rhythms, leading up to the final choruses, which are very intricate in construction, but at the close resolve into a double chorus of great power and genuine religious exaltation.

There are other works of Schumann’s which are more or less in the cantata form, such as “The King’s Son,” op. 116, set to a ballad of Uhland’s; “The New Year’s Song,” op. 144, poem by Rückert; “The Luck of Edenhall,” op. 143, poem by Uhland; “Of the Page and the King’s Daughter,” op. 140, poem by Geibel; the “Spanish Love Song,” op. 138; the “Minnespiel,” op. 101; and the “Ritornelle,” op. 65.

The Pilgrimage of the Rose.“The Pilgrimage of the Rose,” for solo and chorus, with piano accompaniment, twenty-four numbers, was written in the spring of 1851, and was first performed May 6, 1852, at a Düsseldorf subscription concert. The story is taken from a somewhat vapid fairy-tale by Moritz Horn, and has little point or meaning. It turns upon the commonplace adventures of a young girl whose origin is disclosed by a rose which was never to fall from her hand.The principal numbers are the opening song, a joyous hymn to spring, in canon form, for two sopranos; the dancing choruses of the elves, for two sopranos and alto; the male chorus, “In the thick Wood,” which is very effective in harmony; the exultant bridal songs, “Why sound the Horns so gayly?” and “Now at the Miller’s;” the duet, “In the smiling Valley, ‘mid the Trees so green;” the Grave Song; the quartet, “Oh, Joy! foretaste of Heaven’s Rest;” and the duet, “I know a blushing Rosebud.”The work as a whole has never attained the popularity of his “Paradise and the Peri,” though detached numbers from it are frequently given with great success. The inadequacy of the poem has much to do with this; and it must also be remembered that it was written at a time when Schumann’s powers had begun to weaken under the strain of the mental disorder which finally proved fatal. Reissmann, in his analysis of the work, says:—“The man who had hitherto refused to allow even the simplest composition to flow from any but a distinct idea, who constantly strove to enter into relations with some distinct movement of the heart or the imagination, here grasped at a poem utterly destitute of any rational fundamental idea, and so arbitrary in execution, so tasteless in parts, that the musical inspiration it offered could never have moved any other composer to set it to music.”

“The Pilgrimage of the Rose,” for solo and chorus, with piano accompaniment, twenty-four numbers, was written in the spring of 1851, and was first performed May 6, 1852, at a Düsseldorf subscription concert. The story is taken from a somewhat vapid fairy-tale by Moritz Horn, and has little point or meaning. It turns upon the commonplace adventures of a young girl whose origin is disclosed by a rose which was never to fall from her hand.

The principal numbers are the opening song, a joyous hymn to spring, in canon form, for two sopranos; the dancing choruses of the elves, for two sopranos and alto; the male chorus, “In the thick Wood,” which is very effective in harmony; the exultant bridal songs, “Why sound the Horns so gayly?” and “Now at the Miller’s;” the duet, “In the smiling Valley, ‘mid the Trees so green;” the Grave Song; the quartet, “Oh, Joy! foretaste of Heaven’s Rest;” and the duet, “I know a blushing Rosebud.”

The work as a whole has never attained the popularity of his “Paradise and the Peri,” though detached numbers from it are frequently given with great success. The inadequacy of the poem has much to do with this; and it must also be remembered that it was written at a time when Schumann’s powers had begun to weaken under the strain of the mental disorder which finally proved fatal. Reissmann, in his analysis of the work, says:—

“The man who had hitherto refused to allow even the simplest composition to flow from any but a distinct idea, who constantly strove to enter into relations with some distinct movement of the heart or the imagination, here grasped at a poem utterly destitute of any rational fundamental idea, and so arbitrary in execution, so tasteless in parts, that the musical inspiration it offered could never have moved any other composer to set it to music.”

The Minstrel’s Curse.“The Minstrel’s Curse,” for solo voice, chorus and orchestra, was written in 1852, and first performed in the same year. Its text is based upon Uhland’s beautiful ballad of the same name, which was adapted for the composer by Richard Pohl. The libretto shows numerous variations from the original text. Some of the verses are literally followed, others are changed, and many new songs and motives are introduced. Several of Uhland’s other ballads are assigned to the minstrel, the youth, and the queen, among them “Die Drei Lieder,” “Entsagung,” and “Hohe Liebe,” as well as extracts from “Rudello,” “Lied des Deutschen Sängers,” “Gesang und Krieg,” and “Das Thal.” Instead of the beautiful verse in the original poem:—“They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,The king’s bold warriors bow before their God.The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,”—which leads up to the tragedy, it is the singing of the “Hohe Liebe” which is made the motive by Pohl, who from this point on follows the story as told by Uhland.The work contains fourteen numbers. The first two verses, describing the castle and its haughty monarch, are sung by the narrator, and are followed by an alto solo, very bright and joyous in style, which tells of the arrival of the two minstrels. The fourth number is a Provençal song, full of grace and poetical feeling, sung by the youth, followed by full chorus. The King angrily interposes in the next number, “Enough of Spring and Pleasure,” whereupon the harper sings a beautiful ballad interpolated by the librettist. The queen follows with a quiet, soothing strain, appealing for further songs, and in reply the youth and harper once more sing of spring. The youth’s powerful song of love, which changes to a trio in the close, the queen and harper joining, indicates the coming tragedy, and from this number on the chorus follows the story as told by Uhland, with great power and spirit. The general style of the work is declamatory, but in many of its episodes the ballad form is used with great skill and effect.

“The Minstrel’s Curse,” for solo voice, chorus and orchestra, was written in 1852, and first performed in the same year. Its text is based upon Uhland’s beautiful ballad of the same name, which was adapted for the composer by Richard Pohl. The libretto shows numerous variations from the original text. Some of the verses are literally followed, others are changed, and many new songs and motives are introduced. Several of Uhland’s other ballads are assigned to the minstrel, the youth, and the queen, among them “Die Drei Lieder,” “Entsagung,” and “Hohe Liebe,” as well as extracts from “Rudello,” “Lied des Deutschen Sängers,” “Gesang und Krieg,” and “Das Thal.” Instead of the beautiful verse in the original poem:—

“They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,The king’s bold warriors bow before their God.The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,”—

“They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,The king’s bold warriors bow before their God.The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,”—

“They sing of spring and love, of happy golden youth,

Of freedom, manly worth, of sanctity and truth.

They sing of all emotions sweet the human breast that move,

They sing of all things high the human heart doth love.

The courtly crowd around forget to sneer and nod,

The king’s bold warriors bow before their God.

The queen, to pleasure and to melancholy willing prey,

Down to the singers casts the rose which on her bosom lay,”—

which leads up to the tragedy, it is the singing of the “Hohe Liebe” which is made the motive by Pohl, who from this point on follows the story as told by Uhland.

The work contains fourteen numbers. The first two verses, describing the castle and its haughty monarch, are sung by the narrator, and are followed by an alto solo, very bright and joyous in style, which tells of the arrival of the two minstrels. The fourth number is a Provençal song, full of grace and poetical feeling, sung by the youth, followed by full chorus. The King angrily interposes in the next number, “Enough of Spring and Pleasure,” whereupon the harper sings a beautiful ballad interpolated by the librettist. The queen follows with a quiet, soothing strain, appealing for further songs, and in reply the youth and harper once more sing of spring. The youth’s powerful song of love, which changes to a trio in the close, the queen and harper joining, indicates the coming tragedy, and from this number on the chorus follows the story as told by Uhland, with great power and spirit. The general style of the work is declamatory, but in many of its episodes the ballad form is used with great skill and effect.

SINGER.Otto Singer was born in Saxony, July 26, 1833, and attended the Leipsic Conservatory from 1851 to 1855, studying with Richter, Moscheles, and Hauptmann. In 1859 he went to Dresden and for two years thereafter studied with Liszt, of whom he was not only a favorite scholar but always a most zealous advocate. In 1867 he came to this country to take a position in the Conservatory at New York, then under the direction of Theodore Thomas and William Mason. In 1873, upon Mr. Thomas’s suggestion, he went to Cincinnati and became the assistant musical director of the festival chorus of that city, a position which he filled with eminent ability for several years. At the festival of 1878 he conducted the first performance of Liszt’s “Graner Mass” in this country, and also his own “Festival Ode” set to a poem by F. A. Schmitt, and written to commemorate the dedication of the new Music Hall. In the same year the Cincinnati College of Music was organized, and he was engaged as one of the principal instructors, a position which he still holds, and in which he hasdisplayed signal ability. Mr. Singer has written many compositions for piano and orchestra, and besides his “Festival Ode,” the cantata “Landing of the Pilgrims” (1876).

Otto Singer was born in Saxony, July 26, 1833, and attended the Leipsic Conservatory from 1851 to 1855, studying with Richter, Moscheles, and Hauptmann. In 1859 he went to Dresden and for two years thereafter studied with Liszt, of whom he was not only a favorite scholar but always a most zealous advocate. In 1867 he came to this country to take a position in the Conservatory at New York, then under the direction of Theodore Thomas and William Mason. In 1873, upon Mr. Thomas’s suggestion, he went to Cincinnati and became the assistant musical director of the festival chorus of that city, a position which he filled with eminent ability for several years. At the festival of 1878 he conducted the first performance of Liszt’s “Graner Mass” in this country, and also his own “Festival Ode” set to a poem by F. A. Schmitt, and written to commemorate the dedication of the new Music Hall. In the same year the Cincinnati College of Music was organized, and he was engaged as one of the principal instructors, a position which he still holds, and in which he hasdisplayed signal ability. Mr. Singer has written many compositions for piano and orchestra, and besides his “Festival Ode,” the cantata “Landing of the Pilgrims” (1876).

The Landing of the Pilgrims.“The Landing of the Pilgrims,” written in 1876, was Mr. Singer’s Centennial offering to the patriotic music of that year. The text of the cantata is the familiar poem written by Mrs. Felicia Hemans, which was first set to music by her own sister, Miss Browne, though in somewhat different style from this work of the modern school.The cantata opens with an instrumental prelude which gives out the principal motive as we afterwards find it set to the words, “With their Hymns of lofty Cheer;” and truly lofty cheer it is, that antique, strong melody. Breathed softly at first, as from afar, it is repeated after a rapid crescendo with the whole weight of the orchestra, to melt away again on an organ point in more subdued tone-color. In the second movement (andante) it appears in quadruple time, augmented in its cadence by a chromatic harmony which serves well to enrich the working-up of this fine piece of orchestral writing. A short interlude containing the germ of a second theme, which afterwards appears at the words, “This was their Welcome Home,” now prepares the entrance of the voices. To the words, “The breaking Waves dashed high,” the basses and tenors give out the first motive,and after declaiming the stormy opening lines of the poem break forth in unison with “When a Band of Exiles moored their Bark on the wild New England Shore.” The time again changing, the composer very happily contrasts the phrases, “Not as a Conqueror comes” and “They the true-hearted came.” Soon, however, the ever-pliable principal theme falls into a martial stride, and a very effective setting of the words, “Not with the Roll of stirring Drums,” concludes the opening male chorus. Here follows the Centennial Hymn as given out in the beginning, sung first by an alto voice, and repeated by the full chorus of mixed voices. After the close, the orchestra, dreaming along in the spell, as it were, seems to spiritualize the sturdy Pilgrim Fathers into meek Pilgrims of the Cross,—a piece of exquisite tenderness, Liszt-Wagnerish, and yet beautiful. After some alto recitatives and short choral phrases, the leading theme once more enters with heavy martial step to the words, “There was Manhood’s Brow,” etc. The musical setting of the question, “What sought they?” etc., is cast in simpler form, and the response, “They sought a Faith’s pure Shrine,” is given in six measures,a capella, for five voices. This brings us to the last movement,andante maestoso. The leading motive, now contracted into one measure, is tossed about in the double basses as on the waves of a heavy surf until it reaches the climax on the words “Freedom to worship God.” The cantata forms a valuable addition to our musical literature, and was first sung by the Cincinnati Harmonic Society, of which Mr. Singer was leader at the time.

“The Landing of the Pilgrims,” written in 1876, was Mr. Singer’s Centennial offering to the patriotic music of that year. The text of the cantata is the familiar poem written by Mrs. Felicia Hemans, which was first set to music by her own sister, Miss Browne, though in somewhat different style from this work of the modern school.

The cantata opens with an instrumental prelude which gives out the principal motive as we afterwards find it set to the words, “With their Hymns of lofty Cheer;” and truly lofty cheer it is, that antique, strong melody. Breathed softly at first, as from afar, it is repeated after a rapid crescendo with the whole weight of the orchestra, to melt away again on an organ point in more subdued tone-color. In the second movement (andante) it appears in quadruple time, augmented in its cadence by a chromatic harmony which serves well to enrich the working-up of this fine piece of orchestral writing. A short interlude containing the germ of a second theme, which afterwards appears at the words, “This was their Welcome Home,” now prepares the entrance of the voices. To the words, “The breaking Waves dashed high,” the basses and tenors give out the first motive,and after declaiming the stormy opening lines of the poem break forth in unison with “When a Band of Exiles moored their Bark on the wild New England Shore.” The time again changing, the composer very happily contrasts the phrases, “Not as a Conqueror comes” and “They the true-hearted came.” Soon, however, the ever-pliable principal theme falls into a martial stride, and a very effective setting of the words, “Not with the Roll of stirring Drums,” concludes the opening male chorus. Here follows the Centennial Hymn as given out in the beginning, sung first by an alto voice, and repeated by the full chorus of mixed voices. After the close, the orchestra, dreaming along in the spell, as it were, seems to spiritualize the sturdy Pilgrim Fathers into meek Pilgrims of the Cross,—a piece of exquisite tenderness, Liszt-Wagnerish, and yet beautiful. After some alto recitatives and short choral phrases, the leading theme once more enters with heavy martial step to the words, “There was Manhood’s Brow,” etc. The musical setting of the question, “What sought they?” etc., is cast in simpler form, and the response, “They sought a Faith’s pure Shrine,” is given in six measures,a capella, for five voices. This brings us to the last movement,andante maestoso. The leading motive, now contracted into one measure, is tossed about in the double basses as on the waves of a heavy surf until it reaches the climax on the words “Freedom to worship God.” The cantata forms a valuable addition to our musical literature, and was first sung by the Cincinnati Harmonic Society, of which Mr. Singer was leader at the time.

Back to IndexNext