Scan 43
Musical Courier 1892-12-21: Vol 25 Iss 668, 1892
73 lines. Read by computer on 23 September 2026. Printed page 36. See the scan on archive.org.
1success in a concert of the Boston Symphony Orchestra at Philadelphia a week or two ago, will give four piano recitals in Music Hall in January.
3I regret that I must defer the calling of the roll of celebrated violators of dietetic rules. The list is a long one and is studded with shining names. PHILIP HALE.
5The Second Philharmonic Concert.
7THE second Philharmonic Society concert, which was given at Music Hall last Saturday night, was in many respects a remarkably interesting event, though the playing of the band was neither at the public rehearsal Friday afternoon nor at the evening concert so brilliant nor so pure as at the initial concert of the season. The first flute and English horn did some awful work in the Gilson number in the matter of intonation, and though one's sympathies are hereby extended on account of the nature of the music they had to play, yet they contrived nevertheless to cover themselves with cacophony and their audience with dismay.
9The program played was this:
10Overture, "Prometheus Bound," op. 38…………………Goldmark
11Concerto for piano, No. 4, G major, op. 58………………Beethoven
12Mr. Ferruccio B. Busoni.
13"La Mer," Quatre esquisses symphoniques………………Paul Gilsof
14(After a poem by Eddy Levis. First time.
15"Leve de Soleil." ("Sunrise.")
16"Chants et danses des Matelets." (Sailors' songs and dances.)
17"Crépuscule" ("Twilight.")
18"La Tempête" ("Tempest.")
19Symphony No. 1, D major, op. 60, composed and conducted by Antonin Dvorák, director of the National Conservatory of Music of America.
20Allegro non tanto.
21Adagio.
22Scherzo (Furiant) presto.
23Finale, allegro con spirito.
25Little need to speak of the radical change in the complexion of the programs of the Philharmonic Society. Time and time again before Mr. Seidl took the conductorial reins in his hands THE MUSICAL COURIER has had reasons for animadverting against the want of fresh blood in the repertory of the society, not to speak of the crying need of it in the personnel of the band. Both of these grave defects are being rapidly remedied, and there is not only lots of frisky blood now in the playing of the Philharmonic Orchestra, but the programs, too, show a novel infusion.
27Mr. Anton Seidl is among conductors an impressionist, if one may be permitted to add to the bold nomenclature of musical terms the jargon of the art schools. He delights in music in which the pictorial element predominates, in which strong dramatic contrasts may be found. Color first for him, then form. Of the brilliancy of his conducting, of the vivid feeling he has for rhythms, of his enormous dynamic contrasts, little need here to amplify.
29Give Mr. Seidl an immense canvas, over which surge and sweep elemental passionate figures, and he is great—great is exactly the word. That his Hungarian origin accounts for this is understood, but it must not be forgotten that our capellmeister has in his veins good old German blood, and that and his great experience have aided him immensely in the development of what might be with propriety called his classical conducting. Mr. Seidl's programs now are an intermingling of the old with the new, of Beethoven with Gilson, of Goldmark with Dvorák—all composers striving after various ideals and different forms of musical expression. The Goldmark overture, one of the strongest penned by its composer, is familiar to all. It is good music and always welcome.
31The Gilson symphonic sketches, as the young composer is pleased to call them, are a very excellent example of the virtues and vices of the program school of composition. Like the group—literary, pictorial and musical—of which he is fairly representative, the Belgian, Paul Gilson, believes less in ideas than treatment.
33He is a pupil of the Brussels Conservatory, of its director Dupont, and, like many other young and gifted Belgians, he affects or is affected by the ultra modern, the fin de siècle in art.
35After all, these things are a matter of temperament. Gilson writes in the manner of Liszt because of his predilections, and from that view point must be adjudged. While program music seems to us to betray a certain poverty of musical imagination, yet all who compose either music or verse cannot fulfill the difficult conditions imposed upon them by the symphony or blank verse, supreme tests of absolute music and of absolute poetry. Gilson, with the idea of organic unity, builds the whole structure of "La Mer" on a theme of Scandinavian suggestiveness, not exactly Grieg, but in its rhythmical life and tint smacking of northern brine and brawn.
37With this he accomplishes wonders of harmonic transmutations, of variations of rhythm, and above all tone color. He handles the orchestra as a skillful painter does his palette, and when his brushes do not suffice he splashes and smudges the color on with his hands. The result is often effective, often bad, very bad. Nothing could be more rancous, acid, bitter and unlovely than the duo 'twixt the flute and English horn in the third movement—it leaves a bad taste in one's musical mouth. Mr. Seidl made a big cut here, but not big enough.
39The second movement has a certain lusty, vulgar vigor which is taking but not impressive. The first, "Sunrise," is common enough in device and orchestration. It is in the last movement, however, "The Tempest," that Gilson shows what a surprising master he is of his material. It is a howling simoom let loose in the orchestra, with sinister echoes of the seamen's dance (second movement), and cleverly constructed to a degree. The composer is no novice in instrumentation, and his polyphony grotesque at times, seems to be at the imitative epoch; as yet his ideas are not original, above all her wishes to fire every arrow in his quiver in these sketches of his. One faintly wonders indeed what the completed picture will be if these be but sketches. The title, however, savors of prevailing literary affectations and must not be too closely scrutinized. At present Paul Gilson, whatever his school be, shows talent far above his fellows, for he has temperament and lots of technic.
41Mr. Busoni played the lovely idyllic concerto of Beethoven with great appreciation for its architectonic beauties. With delicacy and a precious precision he outlined for us its Hellenic profile, and in the last movement he was quite delightful. More scholarly than poetic was the interpretation and while it lacked a bit in color, it was refined, reposeful and musically, and in these days, when the mice of virtuosity scamper wildly over the keyboard, very welcome. His cadenzas were about as appropriate to Beethoven as a Chinese pagoda would be reared upon our cathedral. Clever as they were, they were too modern, too "hard" in feeling and a century too advanced in technical figuration.
43Mr. Busoni almost destroyed the good impression he created in the concerto by playing, in response to a repeated applause, Liszt's nightmare, "Tarantelle," from the "Muette di Portici." After Beethoven the vulgar Masaniello strains were a blasphemy, pure and simple. As to the remarkable technic displayed nothing need be said; he is a master of his instrument. A certain dryness of touch and a want of variety in dynamics might be urged against his performances. If he had only treated us to some, Bach, of which composer he is an acknowledged exponent, how much wiser it would have been. Liszt bravura encore pieces now obtain perhaps in that suburb of Philadelphia, yclept Manayunk, but not in Gotham. Dr. Dvorák conducted his own symphony in a dignified musicianly manner and his reception at both rehearsal and concert was hearty.
45The work is its composer's second symphonic composition and was written in 1880, five years after the first, at the suggestion of Hans Richter, to whom it is dedicated. While lacking the passion and the spontaneity of his D minor symphony, this production is altogether lovely and charming. In the trend of Beethoven it purposely follows, though the naive, unlabored freshness and fragrance of the first movement suggest the childlike, sunny mooded Haydn. With the D minor Furiant we get the first genuine glimpse of the original Dvorák. Its powerful downward inflexions and rhythmic life sweep all before them in their passionate rush. Oddly enough, in the trio, what Mr. Finck calls the "Zampa" theme in Brahms' F major symphony, is here rhythmatically diversified. All is sunshine in this music, and at the close last of the allegro Dvorák brings us to church and with the choral-like finale we wake up and see the composer with his strongly marked Slavonic features bowing. One word here will not be amiss about the analytical programs of the Philharmonic Society. They hit a happy mean between labored pedantry and meaningless rhetoric. The writer is Mr. Arthur Mees, who brings to his task culture and sympathy. The third concert takes place January 14. This will be the program:
46Overture, "Coriolan"………………………………………Beethoven
47Concerto for violin, No. 2, G minor, op. 121…………….Ben. Godard
48Composed for and dedicated to and played by Mr. Johannes Wolff.
49(First time.)
50Sextuor, "Souvenir de Florence," op. 70, for string instruments (first time)………………………..Tschaikowsky
51Symphony, C minor (first time)………………………….Klughardt
53For the Star Course.—The Gounod Quartet, who appeared so successfully at Hardman Hall Thursday evening of last week, have been engaged to appear in the Star course of the Young Men's Christian Association, New York, January 6.
55An Open Letter.
56BOSTON, Mass., December 16, 1892.
57Editors Musical Courier:
58I HAVE read the entertaining article, "Will Mr. Hale Explain?" which appeared in THE MUSICAL COURIER of the 14th inst. It is stated in the said article that between October 8 and November 1 my opinions concerning the merits and the faults of the Worcester Musical Festival of 1892 suffered a singular change; or, as you express it, my "critical mood was mysteriously altered." From this premise, and from other premises that are really of secondary importance, you weave ingenious arguments. I regret that I cannot agree with you in the premises.
60It is true that I wrote articles concerning the Worcester Festival of 1892; and they were published in the Boston "Journal" September 28, 29, 30 and October 1; in THE MUSICAL COURIER of October 8, and in the "Musical Herald" of November. In your article of last week the statement is made that in my article in the "Musical Herald" I contradicted opinions expressed in the preceding article in THE MUSICAL COURIER; that I approved of the directors' tastes as "illustrated in" the Festival; that I spoke "of the soloists in a way implying that they were satisfactory from his (my) critical standpoint."
62But it was in this article which appeared in the "Musical Herald" that I wrote as follows: "It is true that there was not one 'single choral novelty of thorough importance' presented at this festival." In this same article I spoke of the uneven work of Mrs. Tavary; I mentioned the vocal trickery of Mrs. Cole and the joints of her voice, "joints as plainly visible as in an adjustable fishing pole." In this article I recommended the abolition of the organ and song recital. In the article in THE MUSICAL COURIER of October 8 I spoke of the improvement in chorus work and in the programs of the orchestral concerts.
64It seems to me that the charges brought against me in THE MUSICAL COURIER article of last week are vague. Would it not be more to the point if you would kindly place the alleged contradictory statements of fact or opinion in a parallel column of THE MUSICAL COURIER? If you are not provided with the documents in the case, I will gladly send the numbers of the periodicals that contain the articles in question.
66It appears to you that in the "Musical Herald" of November, and in the article above mentioned I made "a masked and badly masked assault on Mr. Irenaeus Stevenson, of the 'Independent.'" I fear that you have only heard one side of a story. Let me, therefore, tell you a tale of contemporaneous human interest.
68It was early in October that the postman brought me an envelope stamped "The Independent." This envelope contained a proof of an article with the heading, "Music. By E. Irenaeus Stevenson." A paragraph was called into speedy notice by a blue pencil line and "October 13, '92," was written in blue pencil above the heading. I say it with mortification, but before October—it was about the 10th—I had never heard of Mr. Stevenson. My ignorance was not a fault; it was a misfortune. I did not meet him at Worcester the month before, indeed I do not think he was there, and so he was able to discuss the festival coolly and without prejudice. I am sure that if he had been there I would have been conscious of his presence.
70I have not been in the habit of reading the "Independent," the "Churchman," or the "Christian Register." I am told that they are excellent papers, high-toned and with agreeable matter for the household; but I had never associated them with musical criticism. I glanced at the marked article and saw that Mr. E. Irenaeus Stevenson was not only serious; he took himself seriously. I do not even now know whether he is a professional musician or a layman. He may play neatly the piano. He may in the sacred privacy of his boudoir indulge himself in song. I read his article, however, and recognized a Macedonian cry. He first assaulted me by enticing me to read his piece about the Worcester Festival. I said to myself, "This Mr. Stevenson asks for publicity. It would be churlish to refuse his petition." And so I quoted from his article, because I thought I should thus please him. If he had been ashamed of his article he surely would not have sent me a proof of it.
72Mr. Stevenson complained of the "archaic nature of the programs." Let us first define our terms. Let us consult the "New English Dictionary," edited by J. A. H. Murray, Oxford, 1888. The first definition of "archaic" is this: "Marked by the characteristics of an earlier period; old fashioned, primitive, antiquated." The second and last definition is this: "Esp. of language: Belonging to an earlier period, no longer in common use, though still retained either by individuals, or generally for special purposes, poetical, liturgical." Mr. Stevenson evidently had the first definition in mind. Now. I agreed with Mr. Stevenson, and wrote that "his objections are not without weight," so far as the choral selections were concerned.
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