Read Ebook: The Standard Oratorios: Their Stories Their Music And Their Composers by Upton George P George Putnam
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ts composer a "sacred cantata," was first produced at the Birmingham Festival, Aug. 27, 1867; though one of his biographers affirms that as early as 1843 he was shown a chorus for six voices, treated antiphonally, which Bennett himself informed him was to be introduced in an oratorio he was then contemplating, and that this chorus, if not identical with "Therefore they shall come," in "The Woman of Samaria," is at least the foundation of it.
The work is written for four solo voices, chorus, and orchestra. The soprano takes the part of the Woman of Samaria, the other parts being impersonal. The music for the contralto is mainly declamatory. Tha tenor has a single aria, while the bass, with one exception, has the part of Narrator, the words of our Saviour being attributed to him and invariably introduced in the third personal form,--which is a striking proof of the devotional spirit of the composer, as in all other instances, after the announcement by the Narrator, the Woman sings her own words. The chorus, as in the passion-music of Bach, has the reflective numbers and moralizes on the various situations as they occur, except in one number, "Now we believe," where it declaims the words as a part of the narrative itself. The text for chorus is selected from appropriate parts of the Scriptures which are in keeping with the events forming the groundwork of its reflections.
The story is taken from the fourth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint John, and follows literally the narrative of the journey of the Saviour into Samaria,--his rest at Jacob's well, his meeting with the woman who came thither to draw water, and the conversation which followed; the only interruptions being the reflections, not only by the chorus, but also by the contralto and tenor, these episodes being taken mostly from the Prophecies and Psalms.
The oratorio opens with a brief instrumental introduction and chorale for sopranos alone, the melody of which first appeared in the "Geistliche Lieder," issued at Wittenberg in 1535. The words are a translation of the old hymn, "Nun freut euch, lieben Christen G'mein," to which the tune was formerly sung in Germany. The treatment of this chorale, by combining it with the instrumental movement in opposing rhythms, shows the powerful influence which the composer's close study of Bach had upon him. Its effect in introducing the scenes which follow reminds one of the grace before the feast. It dies away in slow and gentle numbers, and then follows the opening recitative of the oratorio proper , sung by the contralto, and leading up to an arioso chorus , the words taken from the Gospel of Saint Luke. The next number is a very graceful and artistic combination, opening with recitative for contralto, bass, and soprano, leading to an adagio solo for bass , and ending with a closely harmonious chorus in the same rhythm , the words from the Psalms. The dialogue between Jesus and the Woman is then resumed, leading to a solo by the latter . The question is sung and repeated in declamatory tones constantly increasing in power and expressive of defiance. Bennett was a bitter opponent of Wagner; but in the unvocal and declamatory character of this solo, and in the dramatic force he has given to it, to the sacrifice of melody, he certainly ventured some distance in the Wagnerian direction. The next number, the reply of Jesus , sung, as usual, by the bass voice, is in striking contrast with the question. Instead of full orchestra, it has the accompaniment of the strings and first and second horns only, reminding one of Bach's method of accompanying the part assigned to Jesus in his St. Matthew Passion. This number is followed by a spirited fortissimo chorus , sung to the full strength of voice and orchestra. After the dialogue in which Jesus acquaints the Woman with the incidents of her past life, the contralto voice has an exquisite solo , full of tenderness and expression, in which the opening phrase is repeated in the finale and gains intensity by a change of harmony. The dialogue, in which the divine character of Jesus becomes apparent to the Woman, is resumed, and leads to a beautifully constructed chorus in six parts , followed by an impressive and deeply devotional quartet for the principals, unaccompanied ,--to which an additional interest is lent from the fact that it was sung in Westminster Abbey upon the occasion of the composer's funeral. A few bars of recitative lead to a chorus in close, solid harmony , with organ accompaniment only, which in turn, after a few more bars of recitative for contralto and soprano, is followed by the chorus , sung pianissimo and accompanied by entire orchestra. The next number, as the oratorio is now performed, is one which has been introduced. It is a soprano aria, "I will love Thee, O Lord," which was found among the composer's manuscripts after his death. The preface to the revised edition of the oratorio has the following reference to this number:--
"In justification of so bold a step as the introduction of a new number, it is interesting to point out that the composer felt the Woman of Samaria ought to sing a song of conversion in the portion of the cantata in which the new air is placed. It is clear from the original preface that he thought of her as an impulsive woman who would naturally be carried from worldliness into the opposite extreme of religious devotion."
The introduction of the air also gives more importance to the soprano part and relieves the succession of choral movements in the close of the work. The remaining numbers are the beautiful chorale, "Abide with me, fast falls the Eventide;" the chorus, "Now we believe," one of the most finished in the whole work; a short tenor solo ,--the only one in the oratorio for that voice; the chorus, "I will call upon the Lord;" and the final imposing fugue, "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel." The last number is a fitting close to a work which is not only highly descriptive of its subject throughout, but also full of feeling and devotional reverence.
BERLIOZ.
The Requiem.
Ferdinand Hiller writes in his "K?nstlerleben:" "Hector Berlioz does not belong to our musical solar system; he does not belong to the planets, neither to the large nor to the small. He was a comet, shining far, somewhat eerie to look at, soon again disappearing; but his appearance will remain unforgotten." The Requiem exemplifies Hiller's words. It is colossal, phenomenal, and altogether unique. It is not sacred, for it never came from the heart. It is not solemn, though it is a drama of death. It is a combination of the picturesque, fantastic, and sublime, in a tone-poem dedicated to the dead.
In 1836 Berlioz was requested by M. de Gasparin, Minister of the Interior, to write a requiem commemorating the victims of the July Revolution; but the work was not given to the public until 1837, when it was sung at the Invalides in memory of General Damremont and the soldiers killed at the siege of Constantina. It was subsequently asserted by Berlioz that Cherubini had conspired with others in the Conservatory to prevent its performance and to secure that of his own, by virtue of the precedence which his position gave him. The charge, however, must have been a mere fancy on his part, as he had already written a letter to Cherubini, saying:--
"I am deeply touched by the noble abnegation which leads you to refuse your admirable Requiem for the ceremony of the Invalides. Be convinced of my heartiest gratitude."
"Of his Catholic education every trace had disappeared. Doubts of all sorts had possession of him, and the contempt of what he called 'prejudice' bordered on the monstrous. Berlioz believed neither in a God nor in Bach."
Second, it is evident from the construction of the work throughout that it was his purpose simply to give free rein to his fancy and to express, even at the risk of being theatrical, the emotions of sublimity, terror, and awe called up by the associations of the subject. This he could not have done with a free hand had he been bound down to the set forms of the Mass.
After a brief but majestic instrumental introduction, the voices enter upon the "Requiem,"--a beautiful and solemn strain. The movement is built upon three melodies set to the words, "Requiem aeternam," "Tu decet Hymnus," and the "Kyrie," the accompaniment of which is very descriptive and characteristic. The "Kyrie" is specially impressive, the chant of the sopranos being answered by the tenors and basses in unison, and the whole closing with a dirge-like movement by the orchestra.
The "Dies Irae" is the most spirited as well as impressive number of the work. It is intensely dramatic in its effects, indeed it might be called theatrical. Berlioz seems to have fairly exhausted the resources of instruments to produce the feeling of awful sublimity and overwhelming power, even to the verge of the most daring eccentricity and, as one prominent critic expressed it, "terrible cataclysms." The first part of the "Dies Irae" will always be remarkable for the orchestral arrangement. After the climax of the motive, "Quantus tremor est futurus," there is a pause which is significant by its very silence; it is the hush before the storm. Suddenly from either angle of the stage or hall, in addition to the principal orchestra in front, four smaller bands of trombones, trumpets, and tubas crash in with overwhelming power in the announcement of the terrors of the day of judgment. The effect is like that of peal upon peal of thunder. At its culmination the bass voices enter in unison upon the words, "Tuba mirum," in the midst of another orchestral storm, which is still further heightened by an unusual number of kettledrums. From the beginning to the close, this part of the "Dies Irae" is simply cyclopean; words cannot describe its overwhelming power. It is a relief when the storm has passed over, and we come to the next verse , for the basses and tenors, though mostly for the first tenors. It is a breathing spell of quiet delight. It is given in the softest of tone, and is marked in the score to be sung with "an expression of humility and awe." It leads to the andante number , which is sung fortissimo throughout, and accompanied with another tremendous outburst of harmonious thunder in crashing chords, which continues up to the last eight bars, when the voices drop suddenly from the furious fortissimo to an almost inaudible pianissimo on the words "Salve me." The next verse is an unaccompanied six-part chorus in imitative style, of very close harmony. The "Dies Irae" ends with the "Lachrymosa," the longest and most interesting number in the work. It is thoroughly melodic, and is peculiarly strengthened by a pathetic and sentimental accompaniment, which, taken in connection with the choral part against which it is set, presents an almost inexhaustible variety of rhythms and an originality of technical effects which are astonishing. Its general character is broad and solemn, and it closes with a return to the "Dies Irae," with full chorus and all the orchestras. This finishes the "Dies Irae" section of the work.
The next number is the "Offertorium," in which the voices are limited to a simple phrase of two notes, A alternating with B flat, which is never varied throughout the somewhat long movement. It never becomes monotonous, however, so rich and varied is the instrumentation. The "Hostias et Preces,"--sustained by the tenors and basses, a very solemn and majestic movement,--displays another of Berlioz's eccentricities, the accompaniment at the close of the first phrase being furnished by three flutes and eight tenor trombones, which one enemy of the composer says represents the distance from the sublime to the ridiculous. The "Sanctus," a tenor solo with responses by the sopranos and altos, is full of poetical, almost sensuous beauty, and is the most popular number in the work. It closes with a fugue on the words "Hosanna in Excelsis." The final number is the "Agnus Dei," a chorus for male voices, in which the composer once more employs the peculiar combination of flutes and tenor trombones. In this number he also returns to the music of the opening number, "Requiem aeternam," and closes it with an "Amen" softly dying away. Thus ends the Requiem,--a work which will always be the subject of critical dispute, owing to its numerous innovations on existing musical forms and the daring manner in which the composer has treated it.
The following sketch of the first performance of the Requiem, taken from Berlioz's Autobiography, will be found interesting in this connection. It is necessary to preface it with the statement that the director of the Beaux-Arts had insisted that Habeneck should conduct the work. As Berlioz had quarrelled with the old conductor, and had not been on speaking terms with him for three years, he at first refused; but subsequently consented, on condition that he should conduct at one full rehearsal. Berlioz says:--
"The day of the performance arrived in the Church of the Invalides, before all the princes, peers, and deputies, the French press, the correspondents of foreign papers, and an immense crowd. It was absolutely essential for me to have a great success; a moderate one would have been fatal, and a failure would have annihilated me altogether.
"Now, listen attentively.
"The various groups of instruments in the orchestra were tolerably widely separated, especially the four brass bands introduced in the 'Tuba mirum,' each of which occupied a corner of the entire orchestra. There is no pause between the 'Dies Irae' and 'Tuba mirum,' but the pace of the latter movement is reduced to half what it was before. At this point the whole of the brass enters, first altogether, and then in passages, answering and interrupting, each a third higher than the last. It is obvious that it is of the greatest importance that the four beats of the new tempo should be distinctly marked, or else the terrible explosion which I had so carefully prepared, with combinations and proportions never attempted before or since, and which, rightly performed, gives such a picture of the Last Judgment as I believe is destined to live, would be a mere enormous and hideous confusion.
"The success of the 'Requiem' was complete, in spite of all the conspiracies--cowardly, atrocious, officious, and official--which would fain have hindered it."
BRAHMS.
Johannes Brahms, one of the most eminent of living German composers, was born at Hamburg, May 7, 1833. His father was a double-bass player in the orchestra in that city, and devoted his son at a very early age to his own profession. His first piano teacher was Cossell; but to Eduard Marxsen, the Royal Music Director, he owes his real success as a composer. Brahms remained in Hamburg until 1853, when he went upon a concert-tour with Rem?ny?, the eccentric and somewhat sensational Hungarian, who has been a familiar figure upon the American concert-stage. He remained with him, however, but a very short time, for in October of that year they parted company. Brahms had attracted the notice of Liszt and Joachim; and it may have been through their advice that the musical partnership was dissolved. In any event, soon after leaving Rem?ny? he went to D?sseldorf and visited Schumann. It was the latter who announced him to the world in such strong words as these:--
"In following with the greatest interest the paths of these elect , I thought that after such forerunners there would, and must at last, all on a sudden appear one whose mission it would be to utter the highest expression of his time in an ideal manner,--one who would attain mastery, not by degrees, but, like Minerva, would at once spring completely armed from the head of Cronion.... May the highest genius give him strength for that of which there is hope, as in him dwells also another genius, that of modesty! We bid him welcome as a strong champion."
The next year appeared his first works,--three sonatas, a trio, scherzo for piano, and three books of songs. After a visit to Liszt at Weimar, he settled down as chorus-conductor and music-teacher at the court of Lippe-Detmold, where he remained a few years. During this period he devoted himself assiduously to composition. After leaving Detmold, he successively resided in Hamburg, Z?rich, and Baden-Baden, though most of his time has been spent in Vienna, where he has directed the Singakademie and the concerts of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde. Schumann's prophecy has been made good; Brahms is to-day one of the most eminent of living musicians. Among his most famous compositions are a Funeral Hymn for chorus and wind-band; the "German Requiem;" "Triumphlied," for double-chorus and orchestra; "Schicksallied," for chorus and orchestra; five symphonies; variations on a theme of Haydn, for orchestra; the Tragic and Academic overtures; and several trios, quartets, quintets, sextets, concertos, and sonatas.
The German Requiem.
The "German Requiem," so called, is not a requiem in its sentiment, nor in any sense a religious service. The poem is full of consolation for the mourner, of assurances of joy hereafter, of warnings against the pomps and vanities of the world, and closes with the victory of the saints over death and the grave. It might with more propriety be called "a sacred cantata." The work has seven numbers,--two baritone solos and chorus, soprano solo and chorus, and four separate choruses. It was first performed at Bremen on Good Friday, 1868, and in 1873 was first heard in England. It was also given at the Cincinnati festival of 1884, under Mr. Thomas's direction.
The opening chorus is beautifully written, and is particularly noticeable for the richness of its accompaniment. In the Funeral March, which follows, a very graphic resemblance to the measured tread of the cort?ge is accomplished by the use of triple time. In this, as well as in numerous other instances, the composer cuts loose from ordinary methods, and in pure classical form and by the use of legitimate musical processes achieves what others seek to effect by sensuous or purely imitative music. The third number opens with a baritone solo, followed by two choral fugues, which are solidly constructed, though they are extremely difficult to sing, and call for a chorus of unusual discipline and intelligence. The fourth, for chorus , is in striking contrast with its predecessor, being a slow movement, and very melodious in style. The fifth , for soprano solo and chorus, shows the composer's unusual power as a song-writer, as well as his melodious attractiveness when melody answers his purpose. In the next number, set for chorus with baritone solo responses , the character of the music changes again, and the resurrection of the dead is pictured in fugal passages of tremendous power and difficulty. After the storm comes the calm again in the finale , which contains a reminiscence of the opening number, and closes the work in a gentle, but deeply serious strain. It was the "German Requiem" which first made Brahms famous; it confirmed all that Schumann had said of him. Its great difficulties require an extraordinary chorus and orchestra; but when these can be had, the power and beauty of the work will always be conceded.
COSTA.
Michael Costa, the eminent conductor and composer, was born at Naples, Feb. 4, 1810. Having displayed musical aptitude at a very early age, he was placed in the Royal Academy of Music. Before his twenty-first year he had composed several works, among them a mass for four voices, a "Dixit Dominus," three symphonies, an oratorio, "La Passione," the ballet music to "Kenilworth," and the operas, "Il Delitto punito," "Il Sospetto funesto," "Il carcere d' Ildegonda," and "Malvina,"--the last for the San Carlo at Naples. In 1829 he was sent to England by his master Zingarelli to conduct one of the latter's compositions at Birmingham; and that country thereafter became his home. The next year he was engaged at the King's Theatre, now known as Her Majesty's, as piano-master, and two years later became the musical director. He was the first to bring the band to its proper place, though he had to make a hard fight against the ballet, which at that time threatened to absorb both singers and orchestra, and to sweep the musical drama from the stage. He succeeded, however, and did much also to improve the composition of the orchestra. While holding this position he wrote the ballets, "Une heure ? Naples" and "Sir Huon" for Taglioni, and "Alma" for Cerito, the beautiful quartet, "Ecco quel fiero istante," and the operas "Malek Adhel" for Paris in 1837, and "Don Carlos" for London in 1844. He remained at Her Majesty's Theatre for fifteen years, during which time he did a great work for singers and band, and reduced the ballet to its proper rank. In 1846 he left his position and went to the new Italian opera at Covent Garden, where he remained for a quarter of a century, absolute in his musical supremacy and free to deal with all works as he pleased, among them those of Meyerbeer, at that time the most prominent composer in the operatic world; for Wagner as yet was scarcely known. It is to Costa that Meyerbeer owes his English reputation. In the same year he took the direction of the Philharmonic orchestra, and two years later that of the Sacred Harmonic Society, which he held until his death, and as conductor of which he also directed the Handel festivals. In 1849 he was engaged for the Birmingham festivals, and also conducted them until his death. In 1854 he resigned his position with the Philharmonic, and his successor, for a brief time only, was Richard Wagner. His oratorio, "Eli," was composed for the Birmingham Festival of 1855, and his second oratorio, "Naaman," for the same festival in 1864. In 1869 he was knighted, and shortly afterwards, when his "Eli" was produced at Stuttgart, it won for him the royal order of Frederick from the King of W?rtemberg. He also had decorations from the sovereigns of Germany, Turkey, Italy, and the Netherlands, in recognition of his musical accomplishments. In 1871 he returned again to Her Majesty's Opera in the capacity of "director of the music, composer, and conductor;" but a few years ago he again dissolved his connection with it, and devoted himself entirely to the private management and public direction of the Sacred Harmonic Society, with which he was identified for over thirty years. He died in April, 1884.
Eli.
The oratorio of "Eli," the text taken from the first book of Samuel, and adapted by William Bartholomew, was first performed at the Birmingham Festival, Aug. 29, 1855, under Costa's own direction, with Mesdames Viardot and Novello and Messrs. Sims Reeves and Carl Formes in the principal parts. The characters are Eli, Elkanah, Hannah, Samuel, the Man of God, Saph the Philistine warrior, Hophni and Phinehas the sons of Eli, and the Priests and Philistines as chorus. The story is not very consistent in its outlines, and is fragmentary withal, the narrative of the child Samuel being the central theme, around which are grouped the tribulations of Elkanah and Hannah, the service of Eli the priest, the revels of his profligate sons, and the martial deeds of the Philistines.
The overture opens with a pianissimo prelude for organ in chorale form, followed by an orchestral fugue well worked up, but very quiet in character. Indeed, the whole overture is mostly pianissimo. In striking contrast follows the opening recitative for bass , which is the signal for those instruments, and introduces the first chorus , beginning with a soft staccato which gradually works up to a jubilant climax on the words "Make a joyful Noise." A tenor solo for Elkanah is interwoven with the chorus, which closes with broad, flowing harmony. The next number, a bass air with chorus , is somewhat peculiar in its construction. It begins with the air, which is slow and tender, and at the close the chorus takes it in canon form. Then Eli intones benedictions in chorale style, and the chorus responds with "Amens" in full harmony at the end of each, making a very impressive effect. It is followed by a very elaborate chorus , closing with a fugue on the word "Amen," which is very clear and well worked up. The next number is the sorrowful prayer of the barren and grieving Hannah , which is very expressive in its mournful supplication, and splendidly contrasted with her joyous song after the birth of Samuel, of which mention will be made in its proper connection. Eli rebukes her, and a dialogue ensues, interrupted by the tender chorus, "The Lord is good." The dialogue form is again renewed, this time by Elkanah and Hannah, leading to a beautiful duet between them .
The character of the music now changes as we enter upon a long drinking-chorus, with solos by the two revellers, Hophni and Phinehas . The change from the seriousness of the preceding numbers is very abrupt, and the music of the chorus is decidedly of the conventional Italian drinking-song character. Eli appears and rebukes them, and after a cantabile aria , a short chorus of Levites, for tenors and basses, ensues, introducing a simple, but well-sustained chorale for full chorus . At this point the "Man of God" appears, rebuking the Levites for their polluted offerings. His denunciations are declaimed in strong, spirited phrases, accompanied by the chorus of the people , beginning in unison. The scene now changes to the camp of the Philistines, where Saph, their man of war, shouts out his angry and boisterous defiance in his solo . It is followed by a choral response from the Philistines , which is in the same robust and stirring style, though the general effect is theatrical and somewhat commonplace. Combined with it is a choral response by the priests of Dagon, of an Oriental character. After this clash of sound follows an air of a sombre style by Eli , the introduction and accompaniment of which are very striking. The "Man of God" once more appears, announcing the approaching death of Eli's sons to a weird, sepulchral accompaniment of the reeds and trombones, and leading up to a very effective duet between them . Another chorale ensues , and after a brief recitative Hannah has a most exultant song, overflowing with love and gratitude at the birth of Samuel . The first part closes with a brief recitative between Hannah and Eli, preluding a fugued chorus , built up on two motives and one of the most elaborate numbers in the oratorio.
The second part opens with a chaste and lovely melody, the morning prayer of the child Samuel , followed with some pretty recitative between the child and his parents, and an unaccompanied quartet, set to the same choral theme that was heard in the organ prelude to the overture. The next number is the long and showy instrumental march of the Israelites, followed by two very striking choruses,--the first of which appeals for divine help against the enemy, and the second, an allegro , leads into a fugue , which is very energetic in character, and closes with the martial hymn, "God and King of Jacob's Nation," sung to the melody of the preceding march.
The oratorio abounds in contrasts, and here occurs another, the evening prayer of Samuel ,--a pure, quiet melody, gradually dying away as he drops asleep, and followed by an angel chorus for female voices with harp accompaniment , the effect of which is very beautiful, especially in the decrescendo at the close. A messenger suddenly arrives, announcing the defeat of Israel by the Philistines, upon which the chorus bursts out with one of the most telling numbers, both in the voice parts and the descriptiveness of the accompaniment . Some very dramatic recitative between Samuel and Eli follows, after which the Levites join in the chorus, "Bless ye the Lord," opening with the tenors and closing in four parts, with the call of Eli intervening . A long recitative by Samuel , foreshadowing the disasters to the house of Eli; an air by Eli ; a funeral chorus by the Israelites ; further phrases of recitative announcing more defeats of Israel, the capture of the ark, the death of Eli and his sons, and an appeal by Samuel to blow the trumpet, calling a solemn assembly to implore the pity of the Lord,--prepare the way for the final chorus , closing with a fugue on the word "Hallelujah."
The oratorio was first given in this country by the Boston Handel and Haydn Society, Feb. 15, 1857, under the direction of Carl Zerrahn, with Mr. Thomas Ball as Eli and also as Saph, Mr. Wilde as the Man of God, Mr. C. R. Adams as Elkanah, Mrs. Long as Hannah, and Miss Hawley in the contralto part of Samuel. Writing of that performance, Mr. Dwight, the careful and discriminating critic, summed up the work as follows: "As a whole, 'Eli' is a noble and impressive oratorio. The composition is learned and musician-like, and generally appropriate, tasteful, dignified, often beautiful, and occasionally grand. It is by no means a work of genius, but it is a work of high musical culture, and indicates a mind imbued with the best traditions and familiar with the best masters of the art, and a masterly command of all the modern musical resources, except the 'faculty divine,'"--which, we may be permitted to say, is not included in "modern musical resources." The characterization of the oratorio, however, is thoroughly pertinent and complete. It is somewhat remarkable that a work so excellent and having so many elements of popularity should not be given more frequently in this country.
ANTON DVOR?K.
Anton Dvor?k, the Bohemian composer who has risen so suddenly into prominence, was born at M?lhausen, near Prague, Sept. 8, 1841. His father combined the businesses of tavern-keeper and butcher, and young Dvor?k assisted him in waiting upon customers, as well as in the slaughtering business. As the laws of Bohemia stipulate that music shall be a part of common-school education, Dvor?k learned the rudiments in the village school, and also received violin instruction. At the age of thirteen he went to work for an uncle who resided in a village where the schoolmaster was a proficient musician. The latter, recognizing his ability, gave him lessons on the organ, and allowed him to copy music. Piano-lessons followed, and he had soon grounded himself quite thoroughly in counterpoint. At the age of sixteen he was admitted to the organ-school at Prague, of which Joseph Pitsch was the principal. Pitsch died shortly after, and was succeeded by Kreyci, who made Dvor?k acquainted with the music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn. The first orchestral work which he heard was Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony," during its rehearsal under Spohr's direction. In 1860, being then in his nineteenth year, he obtained an engagement, with the meagre salary of 5 a year, as violinist in a band that played at caf?s and dances. Two years later he secured a position in the Bohemian Opera-House at Prague, then under the direction of Mayer, where he remained until 1871, in which year he left the theatre and devoted himself to teaching, with the prospect of earning 0 a year. These were hard days for the young musician; but while he was thus struggling for a bare subsistence he continued writing compositions, though he had no prospect of selling them or of having them played. One writer remarks on this point: "It is far from difficult to compare him in this respect with that marvellous embodiment of patience and enthusiasm, Franz Schubert; only, more fortunate than the Viennese master, the Bohemian has lived to receive his reward. Between these two men another point of resemblance appears. Neither can be charged with pushing or intriguing himself into prominence. Schubert had plenty of artistic ambition, but of personal ambition none; while the quality he so entirely lacked cannot be accredited to Dvor?k, who spent the best part of his life in the enjoyment of merely local fame." About this time he wrote his "Patriotic Hymn" and the opera "K?nig und K?hler." The latter was rejected after an orchestral trial; but he continued his work, undaunted by failure. Shortly after this he received the appointment of organist at the Adelbert Church, Prague, and fortune began to smile upon him. His symphony in F was laid before the Minister of Instruction in Vienna, and upon the recommendation of Herbeck secured him a grant of 0. When Brahms replaced Herbeck on the committee which reported upon artists' stipends, he fully recognized Dvor?k's ability, and not only encouraged him, but also brought him before the world by securing him a publisher and commending him to Joachim, who still further advanced his interests by securing performances of his works in Germany and England. Since that time he has risen rapidly, and is now recognized as one of the most promising of living composers. Among his works which have been produced during the past few years are the "Stabat Mater," the cantata "The Spectre Bride," three operas in the Czechist dialect, three orchestral symphonies, several Slavonic rhapsodies, overtures, violin and piano concertos, an exceedingly beautiful sextet, and numerous songs.
The Stabat Mater.
Dvor?k's "Stabat Mater" was written in 1875. It was sent to the Austrian Minister of Instruction, but was not deemed worthy of the grant of 0 which the composer had expected. Its merit was subsequently recognized by Brahms and Joachim, and the latter secured a hearing of it in London in 1883. It immediately made its composer famous. The Philharmonic Society invited him to London, and the work was given with great success at the Albert Hall, and later at the Worcester and Hereford festivals. It was in England indeed that his celebrity was established, and for that country all his new works are now written.
The "Stabat Mater" is written for soli, chorus, and orchestra, and comprises ten numbers. The first is the quartet and chorus, "Stabat Mater dolorosa," and carries the old Latin hymn as far as the "Quis est homo." After an orchestral introduction which gives out the principal motives on which the number is based, the vocal quartet begins. The materials of which it is composed are very simple, but they are worked up with great technical skill. The general effect is tragic rather than pathetic, as if the composer were contemplating not so much the grief of the Virgin Mother at the foot of the Cross as the awful nature of the tragedy itself and its far-reaching consequences.
The second number is the quartet "Quis est homo." After a short introduction, the theme is taken by the alto, followed by the tenor and bass, and lastly by the soprano, the general structure growing more elaborate at each entrance. After the second subject is introduced a splendid climax is reached, and in the coda the voices whisper the words "vidit suum" to an accompaniment of wind instruments in sustained and impressive chords.
The third number, "Eia Mater," is built up on an exceedingly brief motive, which is augmented with surprising power in choral form. It is a work of scholarly skill, and yet is full of charm and grace, and will always commend itself even to the untutored hearer by its tenderness and pathetic beauty.
The fourth number, "Fac ut ardeat cor meum," for bass solo and chorus, like the third is most skilfully constructed out of small materials, and has a fine contrast between the solo and the chorus, which at its entrance is assigned to the female voices only, with organ accompaniment.
The fifth number is the chorus "Tui nati vulnerati," which is remarkable for the smooth and flowing manner in which its two subjects are treated.
The sixth number, "Fac me vere tecum flere," for tenor solo and chorus, is very elaborate in its construction. A stately theme is given out by the tenor, repeated in three-part harmony by male voices, the accompaniment being independent in form; the subject then returns, first for solo, and then for male voices, in varying harmonies. After a brief vocal episode the subject reappears in still different form, and, followed by the episode worked up at length in a coda, brings the number to its close.
The seventh number, "Virgo, virgonum praeclara," for full chorus, is marked by great simplicity and tenderness, and will always be one of the most popular sections of the work.
The eighth number, "Fac ut portem," is a duet for soprano and tenor, responsive in character, and constructed on very simple phrases presented in varying forms both by the voices and orchestra.
The ninth number, "Inflammatus et accensus," is one of the most masterly in the whole work. It is an alto solo composed of two subjects, the first very majestic, and the second pathetic in character, forming a contrast of great power and beauty.
The tenth and closing number, "Quando corpus morietur," for quartet and chorus, is constructed substantially upon the same themes which appeared in the "Stabat Mater," and closes with an "Amen" of a massive character, exhibiting astonishing contrapuntal skill. One of the best English critics says of the whole work:--
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