Books › Musical Courier 1907-10-02: Vol 55 Iss 14, 1907 › scan 20
Scan 20
Musical Courier 1907-10-02: Vol 55 Iss 14, 1907
186 lines. Read by computer on 24 September 2026, twice; the two readings disagreed in places. Printed page 21. See the scan on archive.org.
1Among the newest compositions received by THE MUSICAL COURIER are two piano pieces by Arthur Hartmann and six "Indian Songs" (from Longfellow's "Hiawatha") by Carl Busch. Hartmann and Busch are bracketed together in this paragraph for several reasons; they are friends, they are essentially "program" composers, and they both believe that music is more or less a medium of emotional expression and not at all a form of higher mathematics. They go in for free tonal thought and radical harmonic utterance, and do not mind banging to bits Richter and Hauptmann and all the other pendants, so long as they get what they call "atmosphere." Dreadful and disturbing are these composers of the Busch-Hartmann school, for they are enjoying wider vogue every day and driving the conservatives more and more closely to cover. Is the time really come when a man may say what he pleases in music without losing the esteem of his fellow citizens, his seat in church and his credit at the bank? Painting (Stuck), poetry (Whitman), prose writing (Zola), and sculpture (Rodin) knocked off their fetters successfully, and Strauss started the movement for music. Before his day, a composer was grilled when he failed to imitate the classic masters, and roasted when he did. Hartmann chooses the texts for his "Yearning" and "The Seventh Gate" from Omar Khayyam, and from a writer of whom the present scribe cannot speak dispassionately. Taken together, Omar and the other man strike a very high average—chiefly Omar. By all means get the Hartmann things if you like "moods" on the piano. These are fascinating. The John Church Company is the publisher. Carl Busch carries on the good work in his Indian lyrics, and the way his "Greeting of Hiawatha" changes rhythm every second measure or so would set a musical socialist crazy with delight. Nevertheless, the unevenness brings about the very effect of elemental majesty and eloquence for which Busch was evidently striving. If this be a paradox, then make the most of it. "Gitche Manito, the Mighty," is a fine piece of dramatic writing. "When the Noiseless Night Descended," "Chibiabos," "Death of Chibiabos" and "Onaway, Awake, Beloved!" are all worthy of longer analysis and detailed praise, but space exigencies prohibit more than merely a passing mention. It might be worth the while of David Bispham and Ludwig Wüllner—those two masters of dramatic vocalism—to know the Busch songs if they have not already made their acquaintance.
3Apropos, this page shows David Bispham in a costume and pose which are as original as his singing of Strauss' "Steinklopfer." The snapshot was taken at Oyster Bay. Apparently, the picture has no connection with music, but to the initiated it will serve as but a further proof of how musical Bispham really is, for even when he bathes he does it in Sound waves. [Apology: Oyster Bay is an arm of Long Island Sound.]
5The cry of this column for a hearing of new piano concertos has been answered with gratifying celerity. At Worcester, Mass., next week, Katharine Goodson will play the piano concerto of her husband, Arthur Hinton, the English composer, and promises it later in New York. The European mail brings the welcome news from Harold Bauer that he has fallen in love with Emanuel Moor's new piano concerto (op. 57, D flat major) and intends to regale us with it before the winter is over. Some one not a million miles from THE MUSICAL COURIER office at this moment, heard Bauer play the work privately in Paris (with the composer at the second piano), and says that it is full of musical meat and muscularity and can hardly fail to make an impression here in Bauer's vital reading. If Moor is superstitious, the opus number of his work should serve as a good omen. Beethoven's op. 57—the "Appassionata" sonata—has not been entirely unsuccessful.
7Sir Charles V. Stanford contributes a Joachim article to the London Spectator, part of which is quoted in another section of THE MUSICAL COURIER. In the portion omitted (on account of space considerations) the most interesting passages were these: "Joachim's own compositions were few, much too few, but they were individual to a marked degree, and have not been without their influence even upon such a giant as Brahms. The G major concerto is undoubtedly one of the greatest works of its class, and will be admitted to be so when the public is given the chance of knowing and of loving Joachim was leading a Brahms symphony, and the composer sat in the front row of the auditorium listening. Every few moments his brow clouded over and he called impatiently to Joachim, 'quicker,' 'slower,' 'horns too loud,' 'can't hear the cello figure,' etc., as the separate episodes of the performance demanded. The concertmaster who officiated at the two rehearsals just told about now is a resident of New York, and his name is Sam Grimson.
9There is another point in the Stanford article which that gentleman might care to unravel for the benefit of wondering musicians and historians. The latest edition of Grove's, published a year ago, makes no mention of a "Henry V" by Joachim, but speaks plainly of a "Henry IV" overture. Which did Joachim write? And which Henry IV was meant? Was it Henry IV of England, an amiable nonentity, who left no visible sign on history's page except the record of his existence; or was it Henry IV of France, the one of Navarre, who reorganized and reunited his country after the split which culminated in the St. Bartholomew horror? Or did Joachim have in mind Shakepeare's "Henry V," the hero of Agincourt? It must have been the last named, for surely Joachim, the arch-German, would not seek out a Frenchman for musical setting. The question, therefore, is: Who made the mistake, Stanford or Grove—or Joachim, in writing the work at all?
11The Henry discussion at a bound brings us logically—genealogically would be better—to King Edward VII of England. He, too, is a hero, for this is the list of theatrical performances he attended from August 20, 1906, to July 23, 1907:
13<table>
14 <tr>
15 <th>Play</th> one of two readings
16 <th>Play.</th> one of two readings
17 <th>Place</th> one of two readings
18 <th>Place.</th> one of two readings
19 <th>Date</th> one of two readings
20 <th>Date.</th> one of two readings
21 </tr>
22 <tr>
23 <td>Die Lustige Wittwe</td>
24 <td>Marienbad</td>
25 <td>August 20</td>
26 </tr>
27 <tr>
28 <td>Die Fledermaus</td>
29 <td>Marienbad</td>
30 <td>September 4</td>
31 </tr>
32 <tr>
33 <td>His House in Order</td>
34 <td>St. James</td>
35 <td>September 8</td>
36 </tr>
37 <tr>
38 <td>The Bondman</td>
39 <td>Drury Lane</td>
40 <td>October 22</td>
41 </tr>
42 <tr>
43 <td>Les Merveilleuses</td>
44 <td>Daly's</td>
45 <td>October 29</td>
46 </tr>
47 <tr>
48 <td>Pether's Mother</td>
49 <td>Wyndham</td>
50 <td>October 30</td>
51 </tr>
52 <tr>
53 <td>The Dairy Maids</td>
54 <td>Apollo</td>
55 <td>November 1</td>
56 </tr>
57 <tr>
58 <td>The Man from Blankley's</td>
59 <td>Sandringham</td>
60 <td>November 9</td>
61 </tr>
62 <tr>
63 <td>Robin Hood</td>
64 <td>Windsor</td>
65 <td>November 16</td>
66 </tr>
67 <tr>
68 <td>The Morals of Marcus</td>
69 <td>Garrick</td>
70 <td>December 16</td>
71 </tr>
72 <tr>
73 <td>Toddles</td>
74 <td>Wyndham</td>
75 <td>December 17</td>
76 </tr>
77 <tr>
78 <td>Le Voyage de Perrichon</td>
79 <td>New Royalty</td>
80 <td>January 30</td>
81 </tr>
82 <tr>
83 <td>Le Voleur</td>
84 <td>Paris</td>
85 <td>February 4</td>
86 </tr>
87 <tr>
88 <td>Les Bouffons</td>
89 <td>Paris</td>
90 <td>February 5</td>
91 </tr>
92 <tr>
93 <td>Vous n'avez rien à éclairer?</td>
94 <td>Paris</td>
95 <td>February 6</td>
96 </tr>
97 <tr>
98 <td>Ma Cousine</td>
99 <td>Paris</td>
100 <td>February 7</td>
101 </tr>
102 <tr>
103 <td>Mignette et sa mère</td>
104 <td>Paris</td>
105 <td>February 8</td>
106 </tr>
107 <tr>
108 <td>Education de Prince</td>
109 <td>New Royalty</td>
110 <td>February 11</td>
111 </tr>
112 <tr>
113 <td>The Stronger Sex</td>
114 <td>Apollo</td>
115 <td>February 12</td>
116 </tr>
117 <tr>
118 <td>When Knights Were Bold</td>
119 <td>Wyndham</td>
120 <td>February 19</td>
121 </tr>
122 <tr>
123 <td>Le Maitre de Forges</td>
124 <td>New Royalty</td>
125 <td>February 21</td>
126 </tr>
127 <tr>
128 <td>Les Affaires sont les Affaires</td>
129 <td>New Royalty</td>
130 <td>February 25</td>
131 </tr>
132 <tr>
133 <td>L'âge difficile</td>
134 <td>New Royalty</td>
135 <td>February 27</td>
136 </tr>
137 <tr>
138 <td>La Puce à l'oreille</td>
139 <td>Nouveautés, Paris</td>
140 <td>March 4</td>
141 </tr>
142 <tr>
143 <td>Veronique</td>
144 <td>Biarritz</td>
145 <td>March 14</td>
146 </tr>
147 <tr>
148 <td>L'Amico Fritz</td>
149 <td>Naples</td>
150 <td>April 22</td>
151 </tr>
152 <tr>
153 <td>Sixes and Sevens</td>
154 <td>Marlborough House</td>
155 <td>June 10</td>
156 </tr>
157 <tr>
158 <td>The Impudence of the Creature</td>
159 <td>Marlborough House</td>
160 <td>June 10</td>
161 </tr>
162 <tr>
163 <td>The Corsican Brothers</td>
164 <td>Adelphi</td>
165 <td>June 26</td>
166 </tr>
167 <tr>
168 <td>Mrs. Ponderbury's Past</td>
169 <td>Vaudeville</td>
170 <td>July 18</td>
171 </tr>
172 <tr>
173 <td>My Wife</td>
174 <td>Haymarket</td>
175 <td>July 23</td>
176 </tr>
177</table>
179"I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" hummed the watch softly, when its owner finally arrived to take it from the pawnshop.
181Somebody asks: "If Grieg is the Chopin of the North, is Chopin the Polish Grieg?" It would take Henry T. Finck to answer that properly.
183Even the remote and melancholic Iceland is not totally deprived of composers. It owns one who rejoices in the name of Sveinbjornsson, and his native land commissioned him to write the cantata which was sung before the King of Denmark when that monarch landed at Reikjavik during his recent visit to Iceland.
185Chicanelli, who had to leave on a journey before the end of a case begun against him by a neighbor,
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.