Eduard Lassen (1830-1904) was even less pretentious than Jensen in his songs, but rather more genuine and satisfactory. Possibly we cannot call him a true interpreter of emotion, but we must credit him with the composition of many a lovely melody. Lassen was Liszt’s successor in the directorship at Weimar and thus lived in a stimulating atmosphere. His songs, which were probably the outcome of moments of play, rather than serious efforts, show both more buoyancy and more elasticity than do those of Jensen. With them we are again breathing the fresh air, albeit a peaceful air. Many of his songs content themselves with being simple strophic melodies, interpretive only in general mood and not in detail. The best loved of his songs, ‘Thine Eyes So Blue and Tender,’ is fairly typical of the simpler ones. Lassen’s setting of Heine’s ‘It Was a Dream’ is more truly an art-song, though its appeal is gained by the simplest of means. ‘Whither’ has an arpeggio accompaniment which adds admirably to the simple freshness of the song. ‘Spring’ is furnished forth with interesting modulations, managed with unfailing taste. In ‘Thou Fairest Vision’ Lassen becomes vigorous and passionate; in ‘The Sun’s Bright Beams’ he attains dignity and breadth within brief space. In considering Lassen’s lyrical and melodic style it should be interesting for the reader to compare his settings of Heine with Schumann’s—as, for instance, in ‘It was a Dream,’Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsam, andIch hab’ im Traum geweinet. On the whole, though Lassen struck out no new path in song writing, though he enlarged no boundaries and tapped no new fields of expression, he kept his songs on a high plane of artistic genuineness. Among the song composers of the last half of the centurywho expressed themselves chiefly by means of melody, Lassen is one of the most notable.
Georg Henschel (born Breslau 1850) is a song writer whose present reputation is very far from equalling the high standard of his work. This is perhaps because his songs as a whole show no striking element of novelty. But it is none the less regrettable. For in point of pure merit Henschel must be ranked among the finest song writers of his time. Born and educated in Germany, he has spent most of the working years of his life in America and England, where he has made a notable reputation as singer and conductor. His musicianship is solid and deep, his inspiration fresh and unhackneyed, his method honest and straightforward. He is purely German. In his songs we feel the best traditions of the best song writers, concentrated and amalgamated, but without any element of crass imitation. His songs have the artistic finish which is necessary to give conviction to any lyric work. In mood they vary greatly from that of natural grandeur and religious dignity all the way to the most delicate sentiment and humor. Each of the songs is nicely individualized, both in the musical themes and in the manner of treatment. In them one is often reminded of Schumann, but the solid musicianship of Brahms is equally evident. There are no slipshod songs in his list and few which do not stand on a high artistic level. The accompaniment is rich, but on the whole conservative, acting essentially as a support to the voice, however richly decorated it may be. The general method is strictly lyrical and melodic. Pure declamation enters seldom. The dramatic and the picturesque elements are present, but subordinated to the lyrical. Schumann’s influence is continually evident, but Brahms, too, is there with his solid and careful musicianship. Further, we must place Henschel as one of the great masters of the folk-spirit in art-song. His naïveté isnot studied; it springs from a human sympathy with the fundamental things in music. We have repeatedly mentioned in this book the great test of the song writer, namely that he shall be able to express emotional states in a few notes; by this test Henschel is among the most genuine of lyricists.
Henschel’s songs have been published in small groups throughout his period of activity. Many of the groups are in the nature of suites, or at least have some element of unity. We may mention the ‘Forest Flowers of Thuringia,’ opera 22 and 24; the six songs,Im Volkston, opus 29; theSerbisches Liederspiel, opus 32, comprising ten songs in a close cycle; the four songs to poems by Hafiz, opus 34; and the three songs from Kingsley’s ‘Water Babies,’ opus 36. Opera 22, 24, 29, and 32 are all largely in the folk-manner and comprise some of Henschel’s best. In addition to these and numerous independent songs there are a number of ballads, some of them furnished with orchestral accompaniment which are among the best examples of this difficult modern form.
The various songs in folk-manner offer a fine study in musical taste and understanding. In the best of them the peculiarities of each text have been caught with such accuracy that any other musical interpretation seems impossible. Examine, for instance, the two ‘Love Laments of a Maiden’—the long, crawling, saga-like melodic line of the first, the dignified chorale form of the second. Both are impeccable in point of metre and word-accent. But the utter contrast in musical style shows Henschel’s fine discrimination in his treatments of his texts. He catches not merely the external characteristics, but the innermost meaning of each of his poems. Thus when he sets that tiny folk-masterpiece,Wenn du bei meinem Schätzel kommst, he suggests in his music the varying mood of the lines, but he keeps the song far away from the delineative, showingin his folk-like treatment of it that he regarded the poem primarily as a unit—as asingleplay of wit. Songs likeVerstohlen geht der Mond aufand ‘Ladybird’ seem quite perfect examples of delicate and graceful song writing.Mei Schätzerlis a humorous song which is hardly surpassed by Brahms or Wolf. Another song that is in every way a masterpiece is ‘The Miller’s Farewell,’ a melody purely in the folk-character, with a subtle pathos verging on tragedy.Der Holdseligen, one of the best of all his songs, is of a different sort. It is essentially an art-song, though at first glance it seems to bear the cachet of the folk. It is not a whit more difficult or complicated than any of the folk-songs, but there is in it somewhere that element of conscious design that makes the difference. A study of this song and one or two of Henschel’s pure folk-songs, such asMund und Auge, will reveal much concerning the sensitive deftness of his art. In the more pretentious art-song Henschel is just as much the master. His ‘Morning Hymn,’ perhaps his best known song, is of a grandeur rarely to be met with outside of Hugo Wolf. Indeed, in the deeper emotions Henschel is seldom found wanting. His themes are truthful and convincing; his development clear and strong; his musicianship fertile and resourceful.
Among the minor German song writers Alexander von Fielitz (born 1860) has achieved unusual popularity. He is best known by his cycle,Eliland, which is, by all odds, his best work. The story of the monk’s hopeless love is in itself a groundwork of extraordinary sentimental appeal. Von Fielitz has thrown himself into his task with great sympathy. All the songs are of marked musical value. When sung together, they reveal many lights and shades of rare poetical charm. Here von Fielitz is a convincing interpreter of the emotions. In his other songs he rarely strikes the same level. His themes frequently have no markedcharacter and his technique is lacking in resource. Often a mannerism of another composer—Schumann or Wagner—is introduced in a rather obvious way. In short, von Fielitz has hurt his reputation by writing too much and repeating himself too often. InDas grüne, lustige Waldgezelthe is fresh and spirited and uses with effect his somewhat manneristic contrasting voices in the accompaniment. TheMädchenlieder, to words by Geibel, are delicate and very singable. The Jester Songs, to words by Otto Julius Bierbaum, are fairly interesting; the best being ‘The Melancholy Fool.’ Among the best of his songs areNachruf, with its stimulating inner voices, andWehmuth, which is an excellent study in emotional climax. His settings of the Tuscan Popular Poems by Gregorovius and of the Modern Greek Folk-songs by Geibel often show marked grace and charm. But on the whole we search in vain in his songs for the genius-touch that proclaims the master.
An early song writer of Norway, who, because of the character of his work, can properly be named here, is Halfdan Kjerulf (1818-1868). He was not of the line of Schubert. His songs, which are very numerous, content themselves with a vague sentimental charm. But though he did nothing to advance the art-song, the man was an artist. His melodies have had great popularity and are perhaps known better to the man in the street than to the professional singer. His ‘Last Night’ has become a folk-song the world over. From the artistic point of view the ‘Love Sermon’ is perhaps the best. ‘Synnöve’s Song’ and ‘Little Uenevil’ have all the genuineness of the folk-song and all the sureness of the art-song, a combination which many a composer might envy. ‘The Mother at the Cradle’ is a touching melody, with a delicate second melody in the accompaniment. ‘I Journeyed over the Sea’ is a fine ballad, simple and genuine, andAbendstimmungand ‘God Knows whereHe Wanders’ are songs well worth knowing. In some of these lyrics Kjerulf is no more an art-song composer than Stephen Foster. But throughout he shows that he is a musician and a man of fine taste, and within its narrow limits much of his work is admirable.
Anton Dvořák (1841-1904), the greatest of the Bohemian composers, was known to the world chiefly through his orchestral, operatic, and choral works. He, however, published a few groups of songs which reveal his individual qualities—rich and somewhat Slavic melody, sound musicianship, and captivating resourcefulness in many-colored modulation. The songs have not proved sufficiently numerous or sufficiently strong to hold a permanent place on concert programs. There are, however, a number of charming ones among them, especially the ‘Gypsy Songs,’ which have the dash of the BrahmsZigeunerlieder, and in addition more emotional color and more national characteristics. We should also mention in Germany Eric Meyer-Helmund (born 1861), represented by ‘A Maiden’s Wish’; Joachim Raff (1822-1882) with his charming ‘Serenade’; and Gustav Graben-Hoffmann (1820-1900) with ‘Five Hundred Thousand Devils.’
Worthy of somewhat more detailed notice is August Bungert (born 1846), who has recently become more generally known, in Germany at least, for works of larger calibre, but whose rather over-pretentious ambition in attempting to out-do Wagner in a musico-dramatic tetralogy,Homerische Welt, has made him appear somewhat ridiculous. Many of his songs, which show the hand of the technically proficient musician, are set to words by Carmen Sylva (‘Songs of a Queen,’ etc.). Perhaps his best vein is shown in the simple, folk-like setting ofIch hab’ein kleines Lied erdacht, which combines a genuine naïve feeling with fine workmanship and spontaneous lyric charm.
In France, we have said, a multitude of songs were produced after Schubert had set the fashion. They began, as we have seen, with Monpou and Berlioz. But with the exception of the latter we have not a single original and authoritative voice in French song writing until the time of Fauré, Debussy, and the later César Franck. The French song tradition, derived from the French aria, was indeed distinctive. But it was badly fitted for intimate interpretation, being cold in spirit and thin in workmanship. The best that can be said about this tradition is that it observed a fine economy of means, never using a note that could not be heard and that did not make its effect. But in the truer sense the tradition was not economical, for it failed to get out of its potential resources one tenth of the expressive service it might have had. The French composers were too much occupied with the beauty of their melodic line, which is so all-important that the accompaniment is very frequently no more than a re-duplication of the voice part in the treble, with a few thin and misplaced chords added. Nor has this over-shadowing melody any of the warmth of an Italian tune; on the contrary it is so cold and self-conscious that it seems to have been put down note by note after a consultation with a book of rules. Anything like fertility of polyphonic invention in the accompaniment is not to be found in the works of this tradition. All the art is to be expended on the singer’s part. Undoubtedly this offers considerable exercise to the singer’s intelligence, for due proportion of outline and of nuance must be preserved. But the songs from this period which offer any possibilities to the finer interpretive ability of the artist can be numbered on the fingers of one hand.
Charles Gounod (1818-1893) was unquestionably aman of great talent. But he abused it miserably. The composer of ‘Faust’ should have left his mark deeply on French art. He only added one or two successful operas to it. His songs show his talent in its picturesqueness and variety. But they also show with terrible plainness its abuse. It seems safe to say that there are not half a dozen of them which a self-respecting singer can study. On the whole, Gounod is best in his songs where he is least pretentious—namely, in the little serenade, ‘Sing, Laugh, Sleep,’ which without grudging we may call utterly charming. The Barcarolle,Ou voulez-vous aller, may also be included among the excellent ones. Then comes a large collection of sentimental or emotional songs which seem beneath a musician’s notice—songs such asA la Brise,Mignon, or the well known ‘Oh, That We Two Were Maying.’ The last is in a screaming sentimental style which has fortunately died, except in the vaudeville houses of England. Some of the concert pieces—like the Arabian song ‘Medje,’ or the waltz,O legère hirondelle—are frankly cheap and undeniably effective. Another class of songs on which Gounod made a glittering reputation was the religious. One of them, which is quite the best, set a whole fashion for grandiose lyrics exploiting what might be called ‘popular religion.’ This song, ‘Nazareth,’ has its marked beauties and doubtless should not be held responsible for the fruits it produced, especially in England. Yet even apart from the consideration of ultimate results we cannot help feeling that this beautiful song represents a rather theatrical type of religion. And the other songs are consistently worse.L’ange GardienandLa salutation angéliquehave their beauties, but smell much of the theatre. Others of the religious songs, like ‘There Is a Green Hill Far Away’ andTemple, ouvre-toi, are execrable.
Two other opera composers who failed to gain Gounod’s reputation as a song-writer worked with moreconsistent artistic conscience. Ambroise Thomas (1811-1896), composer of ‘Mignon,’ published a number of songs, notably the six Italian songs written during his residence as aPrix de Romescholar in Italy. His part-songs for men’s voices also gained great popularity because of their spirited treatment. Georges Bizet (1838-1875) was a man of far finer mettle than either of the two we have named. His numerous songs show as high a standard of excellence and almost as high an average of creativeness as the work of any song writer between Berlioz and Fauré. The best and most popular of them is thePastorale. Another excellent lyric isAprès l’hiver. In theSérénadeandOuvre ton cœurwe find a suggestion of the exotic color which was popular in Paris at the time.Je n’en dirai rienillustrates Bizet’s aptitude at the imitation of the antique, andQui donc t’aimera mieuxis an interesting and altogether charming trick song for an agile soprano. Among the other songs which are well worth knowing areRêve de la bien-aimée,Ma vie a son secret,Douce mer, andN’oublions pas!
Félicien David (1810-1876), who initiated in Paris the vogue of the exotic, maintained the fashion as best he could in his songs, which show a talent for the picturesque and striking and no small amount of musicianship. The best of his songs is doubtlessLes Hirondelles, which adds to a charming simple melody an accompaniment full of picturesque ornamentation.
Camille Saint-Saëns (born 1835), an admirably solid force in French musical life on the whole, has in his songs added nothing of importance to the literature of his time. It is regrettable that he could not here have shown his acquaintance with the great German masters as he did in chamber and orchestral music. Ten songs or so will suggest the character of his work. We find, in addition to the ‘cold melodic line’ of which we havespoken, a growing use of dissonance in the later songs, for emotional or ‘psychological’ effect. If this tendency had been in any way original to Saint-Saëns and his fellows, or if it had been developed in a distinctive fashion, it would have constituted a real claim to fame, for this is precisely the most marked characteristic of the fine modern French song literature. As it is, in such a song asTristessewe must regard the use of dissonance as a ‘looking forward’ to modern times, but in scarcely more than an accidental way. Undoubtedly Saint-Saëns used his dissonance deliberately and not accidentally, but the entrance of this feature into French song as a whole was scarcely more than accidental.Suzette et Suzonis an example of what the French are likely to do very well—the imitation of the antique. This song has a marked charm and there are many more like it in the literature of the time.Le Sommeil des Fleursmay stand as an example of the French emphasis on melody (at the time) and the effect which they could derive from it. InLa Clochewe see an effort after color and picture painting, though it is but weak and conventional.Le Pas d’armes du Roi Jeanito, to Hugo’s words, is a ballad of some spirit and attempted color. All these songs are filled with banalities and carelessness of writing. Much more carefully and creatively written isClair de Lune, which tries an interesting experiment with accents. The accents of the voice part all seem to be misplaced, since they do not coincide with those of the accompaniment. In reality both parts receive equal emphasis in the accents, or rather there are no accents at all. The composer’s way of writing the song merely emphasises one more interesting point in French song which, more than any other, determined the character of its music throughout the century—namely, the liquid quality of its verse. We may also mention among Saint-Saëns’ songs the Barcarolle, theDésir de l’Orient, an effectiveconcert piece, andAu Cimetière, which is one of the most popular.
Jules Massenet (1842-1912), tireless composer of operas, wrote many songs which stand fairly high among French lyrics of their class. They have a certain facility and geniality to commend them, and in particular a voluptuous sinuous contour. Massenet’s use of the slow 12/8 or 9/8 tempo was one of his chief stocks-in-trade. But, except as pleasing and unpretentious parlor songs, we cannot regard them very seriously. Though his lifetime overlapped the ‘new school’ by more than two decades, he is distinctly of the old school. His harmony is quite old-fashioned and he shows but few traces of the French search for atmosphere. His one personal quality is an increased sensuousness of melody, achieved without special aid from the accompaniment. The best of his songs is among the earliest, the ‘Elegy,’ adapted from an orchestral intermezzo which formed part of the incidental music forLes Erinnyes. InA Colombinehe has created a charming genre piece. In theNuit d’Espagne, a gentle and reserved song of exotic tendencies, in theChant Provençal, a typical 12/8 melody, luscious yet ‘chaste,’ over the barest of chord accompaniments. In the sprightlySérénade du passanthe is altogether delightful, especially in insinuating into the melody more meaning than meets the ear. On the other hand, he has written any number of sentimental songs which, like ‘Open Thy Blue Eyes,’ are rubbish.
In the same general school are a number of composers (some of them Massenet’s pupils) who have written songs in quantity, some with occasionally charming results. One of the most fertile and popular was Benjamin Godard (1849-1895). His work was marred by the rapidity with which it was written, necessitating an uncritical attitude on the composer’s part which is fatal to the general body of a man’s work.Several felicitous examples of Godard’s work, however, well deserve their popularity, especially the Berceuse fromJocelyn, the delicate ‘Florian’s Song,’ and the spirited Barcarolle,Embarquez-vous.L’Amourmay be taken as an example of the great majority of his songs—conventional but pleasing.
Of even greater popularity and possibly more originality is the work of Cécile Chaminade (born 1861), whose songs occasionally approach a high degree of artistic finish. In her genre songs Mme. Chaminade is especially felicitous. Several random examples are theChanson Slaveand theChanson Espagnole, among the pseudo-national lyrics; theMandolineandMadrigalandVoisinage, each in a special and easily appreciated style. In her dainty imitations of the antique the composer shows her French training and zest—notably inAuprès de ma mie,Noël des oiseaux, andRonde d’amour. In her emotional songs, such asChanson tristeandAmoroso, she is less distinguished. And in the religious or grandiose songs, such asImmortalitéandl’Idéal, she is pompous, noisy, and uninspired. Her creative impulse is not great. Her ideas are most charming when they are most modest But when she is working with material that is to her taste she can manipulate it with a deftness that many a first-rate composer might be proud of.
A further group of French song writers may be mentioned because their work contains some elements of distinction. Gabriel Pierné (born 1863), a musician of fine endowments and a force in Parisian musical life, works with deftness and excellent taste, chiefly in the smaller forms and the more modest ideas. J. Guy Ropartz (born 1864), a pupil of César Franck, has kept himself clear of the modern radical tendencies in Paris and has continued to produce songs in the old manner, but considerably more vigorous and creative in content than was once the fashion. Xavier Léroux (born 1863),with at least one fine song, ‘The Nile,’ should be named, and also Augusta Mary Anne Holmès (1847-1903), an Irish woman who lived and worked in Paris and wrote songs of large and pretentious outline, best of which, perhaps, is ‘An Irish Noël.’ Reynaldo Hahn (born 1874), one of the weaker pupils of Massenet, followed his master’s method to considerable popularity but to little artistic purpose. Other song-writers who may profitably be mentioned are Arthur Coquard (born 1846) and George Adolphe Huë (born 1851).
The position of Edward MacDowell (1861-1911) as a lyricist is still disputed. Mr. Finck ranks him among the four greatest song-writers of the world. In point of sincerity and individuality he was surpassed by few of his contemporaries. From the beginning of his maturity on he wrote scarcely a note that did not bear his personal signature. In two or three of his songs he is certainly hobnobbing among the great. But though nearly all his work is charmingly individual, one may doubt whether he has written a sufficient quantity of superior songs to entitle him to the rank to which Mr. Finck assigns him. But the songs are there, independently of what rank this or that writer chooses to give him. He is unsurpassed in giving his music certain special qualities or moods, distinct, yet not got by strained means—moods such as banter, sentimental tenderness, playfulness, and the like. The achieving of such results is one of the ultimate things in song writing from the technical point of view, and many first rank composers have been unequal to it. To achieve it is a special mark of genius for the art-song. Again, we find that MacDowell’s songs have a remarkable amount of distinction and individuality; though the personality of the composer is over all, eachof the songs has its own personality, too. The range is considerable; from playfulness, through sensuous emotion, to deepest tragedy, and each type, at MacDowell’s hands, is equally individual and almost equally successful. The MacDowell idiom, derived in part from Grieg, is used flexibly for many things and is usually a fine instrument of emotional expression. We should not, however, leave this listing of the qualities of MacDowell’s songs without mentioning their frequent tendency to the banal, a tendency which is never marked or long sustained, but which appears in unexpected places to rob the songs of their final touch of aristocratic distinction.
The earliest of the MacDowell songs is a group of Scotch melodies, an endeavor to imitate the Scotch style, yet not so closely as to do away with individuality. ‘Deserted,’ to the old words ‘Ye Banks and Braes of Bonny Doon,’[30]is appealing and tragic, altogether a fine piece of work. But the Scotch songs of opus 34 are more beautiful and more personal. Both ‘Menie’ and ‘My Jean’ (words by Burns) deal in the Scotch cadences and phrases, but they might also stand as a study for the great songs of opus 47. The songs of opus 26, entitled ‘From an Old Garden,’ show MacDowell at his best in his lighter moods. ‘The Blue Bell,’ which maintains a mood half of banter and half of pathos, is admirable, and ‘The Myrtle,’ with its harmonic freedom yet cogent expression, is of decided technical interest. Leaving to the last the two greatest of MacDowell’s song groups, let us make mention in passing of opus 56, two excellent songs, ‘The Swan Bent Low to the Lily’ and ‘A Maid Sings High and a Maid Sings Low,’ which are as personal as anything the composer has done; of opus 58 with the pleasing ‘Merry Maids,’ and of opus 60, with ‘Tyrant Love,’ another very personal song, and ‘Fair Springtide,’ original and invigorating.
The two great opus numbers referred to are 40 and 47. The ‘Six Love Songs’ of opus 40 include one which is perhaps the best known of all MacDowell’s vocal work—‘Thy Beaming Eyes.’ In this song we must admire the strenuousness of the hot emotion which the composer is able to conjure up, but we cannot help wishing that he had chosen a medium a little less vulgar. This song contains much of MacDowells ability, but of MacDowell’s artistic message it contains less than almost any other. The second song of the group, ‘Sweetheart, Tell Me,’ is delicate and perfect as a cut gem. But by all means MacDowell’s greatest song-group is opus 47, ‘Eight Songs.’ The first of the group is the second of the composer’s songs in popularity—‘The Robin Sings in the Apple Tree.’ Nowhere has MacDowell been more felicitous in the delineation of mood in tiny details; the number of treasures in this short song is truly surprising. The ‘Midsummer Lullaby’ is a masterpiece. Again it is the accuracy of mood-painting that strikes us, this time the hot laziness of the full summer day. The third piece, the ‘Folksong,’ is in MacDowell’s most vigorous and admirable style. ‘The West Wind Croons in the Cedar Trees,’ ‘In the Woods,’ and ‘Through the Meadow’ are nature songs of much distinction, showing grace, buoyancy, or sentiment, as the case may be. But the finest song of the group, and the finest of all MacDowell’s songs, is ‘The Sea,’ to William Dean Howells’s words. Here we have in full strength the mood of tragic grandeur which has been struck seldom in modern art-songs. This song, at least, has not a touch of banality, not a note of mannerism, not a phrase which is not at once great music and genuine poetry. Many of MacDowell’s songs are perhaps too personal to be generally appreciated. Here is one song which is utterly the product of his individual genius, but at the same time a universal art-work.
Beyond MacDowell it is not easy to name a single American song-writer who has any claim to a position among the song-writers of the world. A few, especially in very recent years, have shown a marked talent which may be expected to develop into something unusual. But, on the whole, the American song output, though enormous, has been consistently and painfully second-rate in character. This is not to belittle the excellent work which certain Americans have accomplished in this field; but their interest must necessarily be local. The American song-writers are treated in detail in another volume,[31]so we need here only mention them and the occasional treasures hidden in a mass of work too facile and imitative. We should name, however, one of their number who, with rather limited talents, has nevertheless made a place for himself in the hearts of people in Europe as well as in this country. This is Ethelbert Nevin (1862-1901), chiefly known among pianists for his charming suites of short pieces. Nevin’s reputation as a song-writer rests chiefly on one lyric, ‘The Rosary,’ which has had a remarkable vogue, well deserved. It is difficult to find any other of his songs which approaches this in emotional breadth. But out of his numerous list there are a few which are well worth knowing. ‘Sleep, Little Tulip’ is a bit of a lullaby with a charming swing and a delicate sentiment, given an additional interest by the lilt of the accompaniment, which is managed with much skill. ‘A Song of Love’ is above the average in musical vigor and ‘Orsola’s Song,’ to the French words of Jean Richepin, imitates with success the Gallic method.In der Nacht, to German words, is unusual for breadth and genuineness. Nevin is too often a mere sentimentalist, too often imitative, too often dependent on mannerisms and formulas. Some of these mannerisms, however, are effective, especially that of writing a contrapuntalmelody in the accompaniments, as in the second half of ‘The Rosary.’ Though his invention was facile rather than profound, and his musicianship slight, we cannot deny him praise for a certain delicacy of touch, a certain artistic sense of fitness, which were too often lacking in his American contemporaries.
It may not be out of place here to mention two song writers of modern Italy who have shown individuality and attained wide popularity. Francesco Paolo Tosti (born 1846), one time teacher of singing to the court of England, has written a number of songs of varying quality. His ‘Goodbye Forever’ is none the worse for having been played on all the hurdy-gurdies of London for twenty years past. The piece is as moving as any folk-song and as delicate as a lyric by Jensen. In his later songs, of which we may mention the well known ‘Serenade,’ he shows more care than in the earlier ones and the result has been some exquisite works, combining Italian grace and Italian fervor in equal proportions. ‘At Vespers,’Amore, andMattinataare among his best. Luigi Denza (born 1846) has attracted a unique position for himself in that one of his lyrics, the famous ‘Funicula,’ has been circulated more widely than any other piece of music of which there is record, having reached a sale of some 500,000 copies. His songs, which are all simple and addressed to the common people, are very numerous and include not a few of great charm and artistic grace.
In a later chapter we shall briefly study the wonderful song literature which has been created by the Russian composers in the last half century. From this list, however, we shall exclude two Russians who were extremely productive song writers and are still the best known of their land. For Rubinstein and Tschaikowsky,though they were born in Russia, were Germans in their musical education and would have little to do with the ‘neo-Russian’ group which created the national art-song. They frequently attempt Russian ‘local color’ or oriental exoticism, but in nearly every case their attempt is mannered and self-conscious. Both suffered from over-production. To be quite plain, they seem to lack artistic conscience. Rubinstein, in particular, wrote a great quantity of songs, chiefly to German and Russian texts, which no sincere artist should have dared to sign. They were addressed to the drawing rooms and the tinsel concert halls of the time. Perhaps they were actually the pot-boilers with which he sought to eke out his income. Most of them should be passed over in charitable silence. Tschaikowsky shows a somewhat higher level of artistic effort, but too often he writes much noise and little music. His most pretentious efforts are often built upon themes that would hardly fill a penny whistle. However, he errs not so much through the cheapness of his melodies, as does Rubinstein, as through lack of artistic taste and control.
Anton Rubinstein (1830-1894), a concert pianist second only to Liszt, perhaps suffered from being a public pet. Usually his songs are insufferably sentimental, with a banality in almost every line which counteracts the charm latent in the idea. His accompaniments are usually thin and conventional. His romanticism is of the rag and tatter type, which calls upon the stock modulations and phrases in a routine way. One feels that the composer neversaw intohis songs, that he wrote three-fourths of his notes with his eyes shut. However, he has done a few thoroughly fine songs. ‘The Asra,’ to Heine’s words, is highly emotional and picturesque. Rubinstein’s setting ofDu bist wie eine Blume, with its delicate piano background, may perhaps be ranked second to Liszt’s. There is a fine luxurianceabout the song ‘Golden Rolls the Kura Beneath Me,’ whileEs blinkt der TauandDie Waldhexecan command the respect of musicians. ‘Not with Angels’ is another song well worth knowing. Perhaps the lyrics which show Rubinstein the musician in the best light are the ‘Persian Songs,’ which combine exotic coloring and great expressive beauty. Here, probably, the list ends. The remainder of Rubinstein’s large output suffers continually from thinness and banality. The ‘Modern Greek Love Song’ is a touching melody of the simplest type and manages to escape the commonplaceness which seems always about to engulf it. ‘Be Not so Coy’ is graceful and musicianly, and ‘The Ravens’ contains considerable vitality. But it would be useless to enlarge a list of songs, none of which can be praised without some reservation. Rubinstein is one of the composers whose reputation is fast on the wane. We can part with him with light hearts, for what has replaced him is hardly second to anything in all song literature.
Nor in Tschaikowsky’s case need we name the long list of songs that are only somewhat good. He has a few that are thoroughly fine. The children’s song entitled ‘Legend’ makes effective use of modal harmony and remains a most touching and impressive lyric. ‘At the Ball’ is a melody such as Tschaikowsky could create on occasion, utterly aristocratic and artistic. Over this, as over few of his others, the conventional has not cast its spell. ‘The Canary’ is an elaborate effort at oriental color and is completely successful, the piano part being especially fine. The piece is most effective in the concert hall. Perhaps the best known of the Tschaikowsky songs is the setting of Goethe’s famous lyric,Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt. It may be taken as a type of Tschaikowsky’s average. There is in it a certain intensity of feeling, but it is all strained, over orchestrated, as it were, and every now and then—banal.The long list of Tschaikowsky songs includes a number which attempt to be impressively dramatic. They usually make their effect at first hearing, but they fall to pieces beneath scrutiny. They suggest too much brass and percussion and too little—music.
Another Slav whose songs are mainly German is Moritz Moszkowski (born 1851). He wrote with less ambitious intent than Tschaikowsky and achieved some charming results, as in his well known ‘Slumber Song.’ But the conventional hangs over his work, and his is one of the reputations which is fast dying.
The England of the last half of the nineteenth century has left us little that we can treasure in song music. Easily the most popular composer of the time was Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900), who wrote the music of the inimitable Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, which are quite as perfect in their way as Mozart’s operas. If we were to include in this list the songs from these pieces we should have a song literature altogether remarkable and charming. But outside of his stage works Sullivan was surprisingly cheap in his vocal music. It is hard to explain the quantity of songs he put out which would hardly have been a credit to a low-class music hall. They are for the most part unbelievably sentimental and commonplace. A few of his less popular songs, however (for example, the ‘Arabian Love Song’ and ‘O Fair Dove, O Fond Dove’), showed an effort at artistic creation, and among the popular ones we may find a handful, such as ‘Sweethearts,’ which are tolerable. But in this description we have omitted one song which is of quite a special calibre. This is the universally known ‘Lost Chord.’ Perhaps the piece is unduly sentimental; perhaps the religious sentiment of it is somewhat theatrical. But onthe whole it is certainly a fine and noble inspiration. It is not a bit the worse for its huge popularity. The musical material is impressive in the extreme and the handling is admirable.
Frederick Cowen (born 1852) was a prolific composer of songs (his output numbers nearly 300) and, next to Sullivan, was the most popular song-writer of his time. His talent was limited, being wholly satisfactory only in work of a light and fanciful character. In this field he well deserves his reputation. But his sentimental songs are in the worst tradition of the time. His influence in this sort of music has been huge, and he may almost be called the father, for England and America, of the brood of sentimental pieces that pose as art-songs. He has been a potent factor in the debasing of the taste of concert audiences, and singers should know him chiefly as an admirable example of what to avoid. Why the songs of this class are bad might perhaps be told on paper. But a far better answer would be a comparison between them and a few first-rate songs, say by Franz or Brahms. A little familiarity with songs of the Cowen type will show how utterly they fail to ring true to healthy sentiment.
Another popular song writer of Sullivan’s time was Stephen Adams (1844-1911), whose real name was Michael Maybrick. The great popularity of his songs of the sea, such as ‘Nancy Lee’ and ‘The Midshipmite,’ or of his romantic songs, such as ‘In Days of Old,’ is quite justified. They do not parade as art-songs (rather they might be justly called folk-songs), but in their vigor and straightforwardness they might serve as a model to many a precious song-writer with more sentimentality than talent. A more recent song from this composer, ‘The Holy City,’ combines to a remarkable degree the popular quality with real musicianship.
The most genuine song-writer of this period was Arthur Goring-Thomas (1851-1892), a man of delicateinstincts and fine artistic sense whose work has never received the recognition it deserves. His field of expression was not wide, but within it he worked with a wealth of imagination and refined sense of fitness which England at the time could not match. He was the one true romanticist of his land. His product is perhaps a trifle morbid, but, such as it is, it is free from tricks and cheapness and is absolutely sincere. As a sentimentalist, pure and simple, he is among the best. He was, indeed, one of the few sentimentalists who could approach the tragic mood without losing in his music the ring of sincerity. And as an artist of the voice England for two centuries was not able to show his fellow. Some of his most perfect work as a lyricist is shown in his cantata, ‘The Swan and the Skylark,’ and in his operas. His solo songs and duets show the refinement and polish which is not that of formal learning, but represents the loving care of an intense artistic nature. Among the best may be mentioned ‘Wind in the Trees,’ ‘Barbarine’s Song,’ ‘One Morning, Oh, so Early,’ and the ‘Night Hymn at Sea.’
Before closing this chapter we should mention the romantic and colorful work of Liza Lehman (born 1862). Her song cycles, especially those from Omar Khayyám and Robert Louis Stevenson, are well known. The former, ‘A Persian Garden,’ offers points of remarkable interest to the musician. The music, which covers a considerable emotional range, is equally felicitous in a number of various moods. The exotic color of the cycle is managed with rare taste and effectiveness. The accompaniment is a model of richness and appropriateness. We can safely say that this writer is the only woman composer who has ever succeeded signally in the tragic mood. But her peculiar contribution (for it can almost be called a contribution) is the fine artistry with which she concentrates great emotional feeling into the briefest time. (It is interestingto note that she does it almost entirely by the use of theda capoor ‘A-B-A’ form.) In the variety of styles at her command and in the sureness of her artistic touch she is quite alone among woman composers of the present day.