MACKENZIE.
Alexander C. Mackenzie, one of the very few successful Scotch composers, was born at Edinburgh, in 1847. His father was a musician, and recognizing his son’s talent, sent him to Germany at the age of ten. He began his studies with Ulrich Eduard Stein at Schwartzburg-Sondershausen, and four years later entered the ducal orchestra as violinist. He remained there until 1862, when he went to England to study the violin with M. Sainton. In the same year he was elected king’s scholar of the Royal Academy of Music. Three years later he returned to Edinburgh and established himself as a piano-teacher. The main work of his life, however, has been composition, and to this he has devoted himself with assiduity and remarkable success. Grove catalogues among his works: “Cervantes,” an overture for orchestra; a scherzo, for ditto; overture to a comedy; a string quintet, and many other pieces in MS.; piano-forte quartet in B., op. 11; Trois Morceaux pour Piano, op. 15; two songs, op. 12; besides songs, part-songs, anthems, and pieces for the piano. This catalogue can now be increased by four of the most important works he has produced: a Scotch Rhapsody, introduced into this country by the Theodore Thomas orchestra; the oratorio “Rose of Sharon” (1884); an opera, “The Troubadour” (1885), and the cantata, “The Story of Sayid” (1886), which forms the subject of the subjoined sketch.
The Story of Sayid.
“The Story of Sayid,” a dramatic cantata in two parts, the libretto by Joseph Bennett, was first produced at the Leeds Triennial Festival, Oct. 13, 1886. Its story is founded upon that of a poem in Edwin Arnold’s “Pearls of the Faith,” and embodies a myth which is current among nearly all Oriental nations. The characters are Ilmas, daughter of Sâwa (soprano); Sayid, an Arab chief (tenor); Sâwa, a Hindoo prince (barytone); a watchman (tenor or barytone); and a horseman (barytone). The opening scene pictures the desolation of the land of Sâwa, caused by the invasion of an Arab band, led by their chieftain, Sayid. In the midst of the popular lamentations a messenger announces the defeat of the Arabs and the capture of their leader, who is brought to the city and sentenced to death on the spot. As Sayid prepares to meet his fate, he is recognized by Sâwa as his rescuer at a time when he was hunting in the hills and perishing with thirst. He offers him any boon he may ask except that of life. Sayid entreats that he may be allowed to visit his aged father, promising to return afterwards and suffer his fate. When Sâwa asks who will be hostage for him, his own daughter, Ilmas, offers herself. Moved to pity for the Arab, she persists in her offer, and her father at last reluctantly consents. The second scene opens in Ilmas’s palace, and we discover that pity has grown into passion for Sayid during his absence. She is interrupted in her meditations by Sâwa, who enters with his counsellors, and announces that lightnings have flashed from the altars of Siva, and that the gods have demanded that the hostage must suffer in the absence of Sayid. Ilmas bids her attendants array her in bridal robes, and in the next scene appears in an open space near the city gate, surrounded by the court retinue and soldiers, and accompanied by her maidens, strewing flowers in her path. Ilmas is led to the centre of the space and kneels down, the executioner standing over her and awaiting the signal to be given by the watchman when the sun sets. Before that time comes the latter excitedly announces the rapid approach of an Arab horseman. While the crowd stand eagerly waiting his arrival, Sayid gallops through the gateway and presents himself to the Prince. He then turns to Ilmas, who warmly receives him, and affirms that whatever fate may overtake him she shall always cherish his memory. Sâwa relents, bids the Arab live and be his friend, and we infer the happiness of the lovers from the invocation of “Love the Conqueror,” which brings the Damon and Pythias story, to a close.
A very brief orchestral prelude introduces the opening chorus with solos:—
“Alas! our land is desolate,
The children cry for bread;
Around, fierce fire and sword devour,
Our women wail their dead.
“We pray for vengeance on the foe,
To death consign them all;
Siva, arise and fight for us,
Or see thine altars fall.”
As the expressive chorus comes to a close, an allegro movement leads to a dialogue between the people and the watchman, and subsequently with the horseman, who announces the approach of the victorious army, followed by a second chorus of the people invoking Siva (“Vishnu, Vishnu, thou hast heard our Cry!”). The scene is very dramatic throughout, and is accompanied by vigorous and suggestive music. The next number is a triumphal march, remarkable for its local color, and gradually increasing in power and effect as the army approaches the city. It is followed by an excited dialogue between Sâwa and Sayid, with choral responses, and leads up to a beautiful melody for Sayid:—
“Where sets the sun adown the crimson west
My native valley lies;
There by a gentle stream that murmurs rest
My father’s tents arise.
“Fearing no harm, the happy peasant tills,
The woolly flocks increase;
The shepherd’s pipe is heard upon the hills,
And all around is peace.”
Another dramatic scene follows, in which Sâwa consents to Sayid’s return to his father, and accepts Ilmas as his bondswoman, which leads to a very spirited and elaborate melody for the latter (“First of his Prophet’s Warriors he”). The first part closes with the departure of Sayid and a repetition of the choral invocation of Siva.
The second part opens in an apartment of Sâwa’s palace, and discloses Ilmas sitting with her maidens, as a thunderstorm dies away in the distance. The latter join in a graceful chorus, which is one of the most beautiful numbers in the cantata:—
“Sweet the balmy days of spring,
And blushing roses that they bring;
But sweeter far is love.”
Ilmas answers them in a broad and exultant strain (“Ay, sweet indeed is Love”). As the song ends, Sâwa and attendants enter, and the scene closes with a very dramatic chorus and solos, accompanying the preparations for death. The second scene opens with a solemn march for orchestra, preparing the way for the climax, and leading up to a chorus and solo for Ilmas (“What have these Sounds to do with bridal Robes?”). As she kneels, awaiting her fate, an orchestral interlude, set to the rhythm of the gallop, indicates the rapid approach of Sayid. A short and agitated dialogue follows between the watchman and the people. Sayid declares his presence, and a graceful duet with Ilmas ensues (“Noble Maiden, low before thee Sayid bows”), leading to a powerful choral finale (“Never before was known a Deed like this”), closing with a stirring outburst for all the voices:—
“O Love, thy car triumphal
Rolls round the subject world
More glorious than the chariot
Of the sun.
“We hail thee, Love victorious!
Ride on with strength divine,
And quench all mortal passion
In thine own.”
Jubilee Ode.[29]
This work, upon which Dr. Mackenzie has been engaged for some time past, is now complete, and on its way to several distant parts of the Empire, where arrangements are making to perform it in celebration of the Jubilee. Primarily, as our readers know, the Ode was intended for the Crystal Palace only, but it will be given also in Canada, Australia, Trinidad, Cape Colony, etc.; thus standing out from all its fellows as in some sort an Imperial work.
Without anticipating the criticism which will follow upon performance, we may here give some idea of the scope and character of the Ode. Mr. Joseph Bennett, the writer of the words, has kept strictly in view the exigencies of a musical setting. He has obviously prepared, not a short poem for readers, but one for musical hearers. Hence a variety of rhythm and structure which otherwise would certainly not have been ventured upon. From the same cause arises also the manner in which the subject is laid out, with a view to contrast of musical effect. We may indicate the nature of this arrangement. In the first vocal number, a chorus, the news of the Jubilee is proclaimed, and its diffusion throughout the Empire called for. The second number, a tenor solo, conveys to the Queen the affectionate greetings of her home-lands, declaring that, to keep the feast with unanimity, all weapons of party warfare are laid aside. In the third number the Colonies and Dependencies pay their homage, the idea worked out being that of a procession passing before the throne. First comes the Dominion, followed by Australia, the smaller colonies and islands, and, lastly, by India. Each of these divisions has a section of the chorus to itself. The fifth number, a soprano solo, dwells upon the personal virtues of the Sovereign; while the sixth, and last, opening with a choral prayer for the Empire, continues with lines leading to the National Anthem, for which a new second verse has been written. How far the writer has been guided by consideration for musical opportunities need not, after this outline sketch, be indicated. The spirit in which Mr. Bennett has approached his theme best appears, perhaps, in the opening verses:—
“For fifty years our Queen!
Victoria! hail!
Take up the cry, glad voices,
And pass the strain
O’er hill and plain,
Peaceful hamlet, roaring city, flowing river,
Till all the land rejoices.
Wild clanging bells and thund’rous cannon
With your loudest shock the air, and make it quiver
From Dee to Tamar, Thames to Shannon.
“For fifty years our Queen!
Victoria! hail!
Take up the cry, old ocean,
And hoarsely shout
The words about.
British ships and world-wide British lands will cheer them,
Rouse an Empire’s full devotion.
O blowing wind, come hither, bearing
Answering voices, loud acclaiming. Hark! we hear them.
They our loyal pride are sharing.”
In setting the words to music, Dr. Mackenzie has necessarily to consider the place of performance and the number of performers. This, however, was an amiable and fortunate obligation, since the result has been to give us a work built upon broad lines, and marked by plainness of structure to an extent unusual with the composer. We think that the music will be found to have a true festive ring, and a majestic solidity befitting the occasion. In the solos, with their more subdued expression, Dr. Mackenzie has kept contrast in view, without sacrifice of simplicity; but it is in the choruses that he best shows himself a master of bold and striking effects. Every bar goes straight to the point, while avoiding the commonplaces that naturally suggest themselves in the writing of festive music. The procession chorus is, in this respect, most noteworthy of all, and may be found no mean rival of that in the “Rose of Sharon.”
[29] As the score of Mr. Mackenzie’s Ode has not yet reached this country, the author has taken the liberty of transferring the above analysis of it to his work from the London “Musical Times” for May, 1887. Although its local character may preclude its performance here, it is not improbable that the composition of a composer so eminent will attract attention among American musicians.
