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Musical Courier 1893-05-17: Vol 26 Iss 689, 1893
61 lines. Read by computer on 25 September 2026. Printed page 33. See the scan on archive.org.
1He has written two operas; one remains in manuscript, the other, "Sylvia," on being accepted by the Pyne-Harrison combination for Drury Lane, was printed and announced for performance, the abrupt closing of the theatre causing this to be dropped.
3He has written three orchestral overtures, which have been frequently played in London, Brighton, Manchester, Liverpool and at the Crystal Palace; lately he composed a "Marche Funèbre," and a few months ago, for the wedding of his son, Capt. C. A. Osborne, of the Sixth Dragoon Guards, he wrote quite an imposing grand march for the organ, the introduction on the pedals in the finale on a chiming passage as delivered by the bells is quite a novelty; the whole composition is original vigorous, and one would hardly judge it to be the production of a man midway between the eighties and the nineties. Osborne is a member of the Philharmonic Society, and has often served the office as director; he is a director of the Royal Academy of Music, a vice-president of Trinity College, London, and until lately was an active member of the Musical Association, where his ready wit and racy speeches used often to brighten the serious discussion.
5He is a capital speaker, and many who have heard him speak at the meetings and dinners of the College of Organists must have carried away pleasurable recollections of those enjoyable occasions. He has always an appropriate anecdote on hand and a ready answer to any question asked. For example, when the writer of this notice requested to be furnished with certain epoch making dates for the purpose of this memoir, he was "referred to the family grocer!" and some time ago a friend, who was going to Paris and persisted on Osborne furnishing him with some introductions to his old friends there, received what he asked for gravely directed to certain notabilities who repose in "Père la Chaise" and other cemeteries.
7So far as music is concerned, Osborne is as young and as keen as ever. Only last year he played at the concerts of the Chamber Wind Music Society his quartet and beautiful sextet for piano, strings and wind with a verve, tender grace and perfection of technic that fairly astonished the younger generation who did not know Osborne's powers. It may be a useful lesson to many a mature musician to know that he practices his scales and exercises daily; the result is that he is ready to play anything one asks for, from a fugue of Bach or sonata of Beethoven's to a show piece by Thalberg, an extravagance by Liszt, an excerpt from Wagner, or the last piece by Moszkowski. Nothing gives him trouble, but Bach is his favorite author. He goes to hear the newest music of importance and the last pianistic wonder, and his criticisms are keen, though kind, his judgment displaying a power of analysis and assessment of value that possibly represents the accumulated experience and wisdom of years.
9Time, though it has dimmed his eyes, does not seem to have affected his strong, flexible fingers. As an example of this I may say that lately, on playing a piano duet with Mr. Osborne new to him and rather full of accidentals and queer chords, at the end the veteran pianist remarked: "Well, my eyes may not be as young as yours, but my fingers are a good deal freer!" a critical remark perfectly true. It is now some twelve years since Mr. Osborne retired from the active pursuit of his profession, and despite his great age he is well; he still delights in his beloved art and enjoys the companionship of a large circle of friends, to whom he is endeared by his kindness of heart and who frequently meet at his hospitable table. That he may yet live for years to come to continue to enjoy his well earned otium cum dignitate, to charm his friends and still delight them with his playing, must be the hope and desire of many besides the writer of this notice. T. L. Southgate, in London "Musical News."
11The Musical Pigeon
13WHEN the traveler visits Pekin for the first time he is struck by a strange music that seems to be upon the air, says Ernest Martin in the "Inter Ocean." It approaches, retreats and then dies away. After some moments it will be repeated. Looking upward at the instant when the aerial orchestra is at its loudest there appears a light cloud whose tint shows against the blue of the sky. The cloud approaches and is seen to be a flock of pigeons, which wheel and circle, and finally settle upon the eaves of the house to which they belong.
15The music ceases, and the traveler is convinced that the birds are the musicians, but he is puzzled as to their instruments, and how the poetic rising and falling music is produced. The instrument is called a Chao-tse: the word Chao meaning whistling, and the tse signifying mechanical. A Chao-tse is a mechanical whistle. The form of the little machine varies according to the material from which it is composed. Some are made of reeds placed together in the form of pipes, such as Pan played, and others are made of small gourds. At the extremity of each reed or on the face of the gourd is placed a whistle. The whole instrument must be light enough for the bird to experience no difficulty in flying. It is fastened to him by means of a thin strip of wood which goes between the two central tail feathers. A small ring is attached to this, and a light stick thrust through it. This holds the machine firmly. The whistling is varied by the way in which the air penetrates, and the force is proportioned to the rapidity of flight. The notes vary according to the dimensions of the reeds or gourd.
17But what is the use of the Chao-tse? Is it simply a fantastic idea, artistic or useful? It combines all of these qualities. It is not an ancient institution. It was not in existence when Pekin was a great and superb city, well governed. It is difficult to give the precise date when Pekin's decadence commenced, but it is certainly now in a most deplorable condition. Mr. Whyte has said that it is the dirtiest, the most poverty stricken and miserable city in the world, and after one has lived there for several years he has great respect for Mr. Whyte's judgment.
19There is no sewerage system, and the inhabitants have adopted the custom of the Mussulman villagers and left this service to the birds of prey which abound in the country about Pekin.
21The falcon, the eagle, the sparrow hawk of Stephenson, and the Buteo polioigoucs take up all the animal and vegetable refuse of the city.
23These are very destructive to all domestic fowls, particularly the pigeons, which are very dear to the Chinese. They cannot kill the birds of prey, as they are so necessary; it is cruel to confine the poor pigeons, so the Chinese have constructed the Chao-tse, which frightens their enemies and allows the pigeons to fly about in peace. All people have their superstitions, and the Chinese have more than most. Some of them are grotesque, some are childish; the Chao-tse is among those that are charming.
25As a people they love sound. They imagine that they hear in the clang of the gongs and the clocks which they set in motion on their holidays the voices of their ancestors. The sounds of these little instruments which they attach to the tails of pigeons translate to them mysterious messages from emperors of past dynasties. The Chao-tse is the most poetic thing in the capital of the Celestial Empire.—"The Musical Visiter."
27Bach's Trumpet Parts.
29A LETTER printed in your April number (London "Musical Opinion") and signed C. A. B., on the Bach trumpets is worth notice. A few years ago, knowing a few good Italian amateurs, I had a mind to see if they could do anything with Sebastian Bach, and finding among my music a (full score) copy of the Magnificat, we tried the choruses in private. I chose the work because the phrases are more akin to Italian tonality than many of his works, and the Latin words were another convenience.
31Italians do not shirk when they sing at all, and the volume of tone was sufficient; the difficulty is to get them to restrain their force. The thing went smoothly enough and without coarseness, but the number of voices available was not enough to allow of any semi-choruses; which arrangement I look on as essential both for effect and to give the singers necessary repose so as to keep in tune. There was never any idea of giving the work in public, as it would attract no audience; and it was not even worth the singer's while to get up the choruses with a view to a church festival, as the exclusion of the women's voices from the Catholic churches rendered such a work impossible. We had a few instruments, and, had it been worth while to complete the band, I had intended to call in the aid of three saxophones to play the trumpet parts; which is carrying out a little more completely C. A. B.'s idea of the clarionets.
33It happened however, in the meantime, that in order to complete the parts I had the three trumpet parts written on the double stave, to be played on the harmonium; and on one occasion the player, forgetting orders, put on the grand jeu, which, as your readers well know, has in an Alexandre instrument the effect of adding a very powerful double—in other words, of taking the whole sound down an octave. The effect was so satisfactory, and appeared so much in harmony with the character of the work, that I directed the double stop only to be used, to the great comfort of everyone. Thus far my experience is in favor of what C. A. B. suggests. I do not know, however, whether history would confirm the notion that John Sebastian contemplated trumpets of so low a pitch.
35Being on the subject of Bach, may I trespass a little further on your space by observing on another letter signed J. Borschitzky, the general sense of which is excellent, but which contains one curious slip. The writer says: "Bach has done good service to pianists by his 'Wohltemperite Clavier' by enabling them to play in all the twenty-four keys equally well." Thus far all is right; but he adds, "and annuling the notion that on the piano one key has a different character from another key." Then what was the good of writing in all the keys? If the key of C sharp has no character that distinguishes it from C, why write a prelude and fugue in that key? Why not write them all in C, or in C minor?
37Those preludes and fugues seem to show that each key has its appropriate character, even on a tempered clavier. What Bach abolished was the notion that it is necessary to have "wolfs," i.e., one or more keys totally unplayable. It is too commonly assumed that "well tempered" must necessarily mean equally tempered. But do we call a room "well proportioned" when it is a cube? Or a man "well built" when he is as broad as long? Or a hand "well shaped" when all the fingers are one length? And a dinner "well cooked" when all the dishes taste just alike? We, indeed, object to anyone being so strongly flavored as to spoil our taste for the rest; but I take it that a variety of ingredients is no bar to good harmony. A "well tempered" clavier is one in which all the keys are playable, or if you like it, equally harmonious; because all have some imperfections, it does not follow that they must all be made just alike by having these imperfections in just the same place in each scale. It is the variety of such distribution that imparts their character to the different keys.
39This error, as I conceive it to be, does not invalidate the burden of Mr. Borschitzky's letter as to the tuning of the violin; but it is an error which lies at the root of much misapprehension, such as that shown in Mr. Dyson's letter on the chromatic scale. The attempt to make the keyboard chromatic scale the basis of notation would be indeed worse than building in sand. From an acoustic point of view Euclid 2,000 years ago showed the semitone to be a mythical quantity; from a harmonic point of view Mr. Carleton has briefly stated the arguments that briefly show the chromatic scale to be no scale at all. To tie notation to it would bar the way against any hope of bringing our musical science and notation up to the level of modern compositions, an advance which is advocated in Mr. Rhodes' paper in your April number, to a continuation of which I look forward with great interest.
41I wonder whether many people enjoy Mr. Herman Smith's papers as much as I do? If so, he is a public benefactor on a large scale.
43Yours, &c., ANTONIO MIRICA.
44NAPLES, April 15, 1893.
46SIR—While entirely agreeing with C. A. B. that the long trumpets now used in the performance of Bach's works do not reproduce the effect intended by the composer, I am altogether unable to accept his suggestion as to transposing the parts an octave lower.
48The reason why the newly constructed long trumpets do not and cannot possibly give the proper effect will be clear to anyone who has studied the nature of orchestral instruments.
50It is well known that the quality of the acute register of any instrument differs from that of its medium register. The long trumpets are, I believe, crooked in G, the length of the tube being between five and six feet; and Bach's high notes on these instruments are contained between the sixth and twelfth overtones, or mostly in the medium of the instrument. But on the old trumpets, the same notes are in the octave between the eighth and sixteenth overtones, nearly all in the acute register, which begins at about the tenth upper partial. This is one reason of the difference of tone, another being that the bore of the new instrument is, I believe (I have not the exact measurements before me), much wider in proportion to the length of the tube than in the old trumpet. This makes the tone of the instrument approximate rather to that of the cornet-à-piston.
52But I cannot for a moment admit that Bach intended the parts to be played an octave lower. In many places the effect would be altogether lost, but apart from this question there is the fact that the parts could not possibly be played an octave lower, because many of the notes would not be on the instrument at all. If it be argued that Bach sometimes used a trumpet with a complete chromatic scale (the tromba da tirarsi), the simple answer is that when he uses this instrument he never treats it as a transposing instrument, and therefore the trumpet parts in such works as the Orchestral Suite, played at the last concert of the Bach Society, could not have been intended for that instrument.
54It is known that there were in Bach's time two classes of trumpet players—the clarin bläser, who played the florid passage lying in the highest octave of the instrument, and the principal bläser, who played almost exclusively in the lower and middle register. Händel uses the name principal for the third (lowest) trumpet in the occasional oratorio and the Dettingen Te Deum. Owing to the different way in which the trumpet is treated by modern composers, it would no longer pay any player to practice as a clarin bläser the highest notes of his instrument—as he would thereby render his embouchure less certain in his ordinary work—for the sake of playing Bach perhaps two or three times a year.
56There is, therefore, little hope of our hearing Bach's trumpet parts as he intended them. The best reproduction of the proper effect that I can recall was at a performance of the Christmas Oratorio in the Albert Hall many years ago, when the high trumpet solos were played on Mr. Willis' splendidly toned reed stops on the great organ in the hall. Such an expedient, however, would only be acceptable when the reeds of the organ were exceptionally good.
58Yours, &c., EBENEZER PROUT.
60Mr. Prout's letter first appeared in the Athenaeum, and is here reprinted from that paper.
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