III
In the romantic period there developed, chiefly at the hands of Mendelssohn, a form peculiarly characteristic of the time—the so-called ‘concert overture.’ This was based on the classic overture for opera or spoken drama, written in sonata form, usually with a slow introduction, but poetic and, to a limited extent, descriptive, and intended purely for concert performance. The models were Beethoven’s overtures, ‘Coriolanus,’ ‘Egmont,’ and, best of all, the ‘Leonore No 3,’ written to introduce a particular opera or drama, it is true, but summing up and in some degree following the course of the drama and having all the ear-marks of the later romantic overture. From a mere prelude intended to establish the prevailing mood of the drama the overture had long since become an independent artistic form. These overtures gained a great popularity in concert, and their possibilities for romantic suggestion were quickly seized upon by the romanticists.
Weber’s overture to Der Freischütz, though written for the opera, may be ranked as a concert overture (it is most frequently heard in that capacity), and along with it the equally fine Euryanthe and Oberon. The first named was a real challenge to the Philistines. The slow introduction, with its horn melody of surpassing loveliness, and the fast movement, introducing the music of the Incantation scene, are thoroughly romantic. Weber’s best known concert overture (in the strict sense), the Jubel Ouvertüre, is of inferior quality.
Schumann, likewise, wrote no overtures not intended for a special drama or a special occasion, but some of his works in this form rank among his best orchestral compositions. Chief among them is the ‘Manfred,’ which depicts the morbid passions in the soul of Byron’s hero, as fine a work in its kind as any of the period. The ‘Genoveva’ overture is fresh and colorful in the style of Weber, and that for Schiller’s ‘Bride of Messina’ is scarcely inferior. Berlioz has to his credit a number of works in this form, mostly dating from his earliest years of creative activity. Best known are the ‘Rob Roy’ (introducing the Scotch tune, ‘Scots Wha’ Hae’) and the Carnival Romain, but the ‘Lear’ and ‘The Corsair,’ inspired by two of his favorite authors, Shakespeare and Byron, are also possessed of his familiar virtues. Another composer who in his day made a name in this form is William Sterndale Bennett, an Englishman who possessed the highest esteem of Mendelssohn and Schumann, and was a valuable part of the musical life of Leipzig in the thirties and later. The best part of his work, now forgotten save in England, is for the piano, but the ‘Parisina’ and ‘Wood Nymphs’ overtures were at one time ranked with those of Mendelssohn. Like all English composers of those times he was inclined to the academic, but his work had much freshness and romantic charm, combined with an admirable sense of form.
But it is Mendelssohn whose place in this field is unrivalled. His ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ overture, written when he was seventeen, has a place on modern concert programs analogous to that of Schubert’s ‘Unfinished Symphony.’ This work is equally the delight of the musical purist and of the untechnical music-lover. It is marked by all Mendelssohn’s finest qualities. Not a measure of it is slipshod or lacking in distinction. Its scoring is deft in the extreme. Its themes are fresh and charming. And upon it all is the polish in which Mendelssohn excelled; no note seems out of place, and none, one feels, could be otherwise than as it is. It is mildly descriptive—as descriptive as Mendelssohn ever was. The three groups of characters in Shakespeare’s play are there—the fairies, the love-stricken mortals, and the rude mechanicals—each with its characteristic melody. The opening chords, high in the wood-wind, set the fanciful tone of the whole. For deft adaptation of the means to the end it has rarely been surpassed in all music. In his other overtures Mendelssohn is even less descriptive, being content to catch the dominant mood of the subject and transmit it into tone in the sonata form. ‘Fingal’s Cave,’ the chief theme of which occurred to him and was noted down on the supposed scene of its subject in Scotland, is equally picturesque in its subject matter, but lacks the buoyant invention of its predecessor. The ‘Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage’ is a masterpiece of restraint. The technical means are exceedingly simple, for in his effort to paint the reigning quiet of his theme Mendelssohn dwells inordinately upon the pure tonic chord. Yet the work never lacks its composer’s customary freshness or sense of perfect proportion. His fourth overture—‘To the Story of the Lovely Melusina’—is only second to the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in popularity. In these works Mendelssohn is at his best; only the ‘Elijah’ and the violin concerto equally deserve long life and frequent repetition. For the overtures best show Mendelssohn the synthesist. In them he has caught absolutely the more refined spirit of romanticism, with its emphasis on tone coloring and its association of literary ideas, and has developed it in a classic mold as perfect as anything in music. Nowhere else do the dominating musical ideas of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries come to such an amicable meeting ground.