I
If the critics of the late nineteenth and the twentieth centuries have successfully exposed not only the æsthetic flaws in Wagner's theory of the music-drama, but also his own obvious departures in practice from pre-conceived convictions, as well as the futility of much of his polemic and philosophical writings, European composers of opera, almost without exception, save in Russia, have frankly adopted his methods in whole or in part. Bruckner, Bungert, d'Albert, Schillings, Pfitzner, Goldmark, Humperdinck, Weingartner, and Richard Strauss in Germany; Saint-Saëns (in varying degree), Chabrier, Lalo, Massenet (temporarily), Bruneau and Charpentier (slightly), d'Indy, Chausson, and Dukas in France; Verdi (more remotely), Puccini, and possibly Wolf-Ferrari in Italy; Holbrooke in England, are among the more conspicuous whose obligation to Wagner is frankly perceptible. In Germany the most prominent contributors to dramatic literature, aside from Cornelius, with Der Barbier von Bagdad, and Goetz with Der Widerspenstigen Zähmung, have been Goldmark, Humperdinck, and Richard Strauss. The latter, with an incredibly complex system of leading motives, an elaborately contrapuntal connotation of dramatic situations, aided by an intensely psychological orchestral descriptiveness, has reached the summit of post-Wagnerian drama. His later dramatic experiments—a ruthless adaptation of Molière's Bourgeois gentilhomme, containing the one-act opera Ariadne auf Naxos, and the ballet 'The Legend of Joseph'—are distinctly less representative examples of his dramatic resourcefulness. In France, the Wagnerian influence is typified in such works as Chabrier's Gwendoline, d'Indy'sFervaal, and to a lesser extent Chausson's Le Roi Arthus. Bruneau's realistic operas and Charpentier's sociological Louise belong, first of all, to the characteristically French lyric drama in which the Wagnerian element is relatively unimportant. In Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande, Dukas' Ariane et Barbe-bleue, Ravel's L'Heure espagnole, and Fauré's Pénélope, we find a virtually independent conception of opera which may be almost described as anti-Wagnerian. In Italy, the later Verdi shows an independent solution of dramatic problems, although conscious of the work of Wagner. Puccini is the successor of Verdi, rather than the follower of Wagner, although his use of motives and treatment of the orchestra shows at least an unconscious assimilation of Wagnerian practice, Mascagni and Leoncavallo are virtually negligible except for their early successes, and one or two other works. Younger composers like Montemezzi and Zadonai are beginning to claim attention, but Wolf-Ferrari, combining Italian instinct with German training, seems on the way to attain a renascence of the opera buffa, provided that he is not again tempted by the sensational type represented by 'The Jewels of the Madonna.' Opera in England has remained an exotic, save for the operettas of Sullivan, despite the efforts of British composers to vitalize it. Holbrooke's attempt to produce an English trilogy seems fated to join previous failures, notwithstanding his virtuosity and his dramatic earnestness. Russian composers for the stage have steadily resisted the invasion of Wagnerian methods. Adhering, first of all, to the tenets of Dargomijsky, individuals have gradually adopted their own standpoint. The most characteristic works are Borodine's Prince Igor, Rimsky-Korsakoff's Sniégourutchka, Sadko, Mlada, Le Coq d'Or, and Moussorgsky's Boris Godounoff and Khovanshchina.
In the field of orchestral composition, the acceptance of Wagner's procedure in orchestration is even more universal than his dramatic following. If his system follows logically from the adoption of valve horns and valve trumpets, the enlargement of wind instrument groups and the subdivision of the strings, its far-reaching application is still a matter of amazement to the analyst. Even if it be granted that Wagner himself predaciously absorbed individual methods of treatment from Weber, Meyerbeer, Berlioz, and Liszt, the ultimate originality of his idiom justified his manifold obligations. German composers, except among the followers of Brahms, appropriated his extension of orchestral effect as a matter of course, the most notable being Bruckner, Goldmark, Humperdinck, Mahler, and Strauss. If the two latter in turn can claim original idioms of their own, the antecedents of their styles are none the less evident. French composers from Saint-Saëns to Dukas have made varying concessions to his persuasive sonorities; even the stanch Rimsky-Korsakoff fell before the seduction of Wagnerian amplitude and variety of color. Glazounoff, Taneieff, Scriabine, and other Russians followed suit. Among English composers, Elgar and Bantock fell instinctively into line, followed in some degree by William Wallace and Frederick Delius. If Holbrooke is more directly a disciple of Richard Strauss, that fact in itself denotes an unconscious acknowledgment to Wagner.
If Liszt has had a less all-embracing reaction upon modern composers, his sphere of influence has been marked and widely extended. To begin with, his harmonic style has been the subject of imitation second only to Wagner up to the advent of Richard Strauss and Debussy. His invention of the structurally elastic symphonic poem remains the sole original contribution in point of form which the nineteenth century can claim. For even the cyclic sonata form of Franck is but a modification of the academic type, and was foreshadowed by Beethoven and Schumann. The vast evolution of structural freedom, the infinite ramifications of subtle and dramatic program-music, and the resultant additions of the most stimulating character to modern musical literature rest upon the courageous initiative of Liszt. In France, Saint-Saëns' pioneer examples, though somewhat slight in substance, prepared the way for César Franck's Les Éolides and Le Chasseur maudit, Duparc's Lénore, d'Indy's La forêt enchantée, the programmistic Istar variations, Jour d'été à la Montagne, Dukas' L'Apprenti-sorcier, Debussy's Prélude à l'Après-midi d'un faune and the Nocturnes (programmistic if impressionistic), Florent Schmitts' Tragédie de Salomé, and Roussel's Evocations. In Germany, Richard Strauss' epoch-making series of tone-poems, from Macbeth to Also sprach Zarathustra, combine descriptive aptitude and orchestral brilliance with a masterly manipulation of formal elements. Weingartner's Die Gefilde der Seligen and Reger's Böcklin symphonic poems may be added to the list. In Russia, Balakireff's Thamar, Borodine's 'Sketch from Central Asia,' Rimsky-Korsakoff's Scheherezade (although a suite), Glazounoff's Stenka Razine and other less vital works, Rachmaninoff's 'Isle of the Dead,' Scriabine's 'Poem of Ecstasy' and 'Poem of Fire' mark the path of evolution. Smetana's series of six symphonic poems entitled 'My Home' result directly from the stimulus of Liszt. In Finland, Sibelius' tone-poems on national legendary subjects take a high rank for their poetic and dramatic qualities. If in England, Bantock's 'Dante and Beatrice,' 'Fifine at the Fair' and other works, Holbrooke's 'Queen Mab,' Wallace's 'François Villon,' Delius' 'Paris' and Elgar's 'Falstaff' exhibit differing degrees of merit, the example of Liszt is still inspiriting. Moreover, the Lisztian treatment of the orchestra, emphasizing as it does a felicitous employment of instruments of percussion, has proved a remarkable liberating force, especially in Russia and France. Liszt's piano idiom has been assimilated even more widely than in the case of the symphonic poem and orchestral style. Smetana, Saint-Saëns, Balakireff, and Liapounoff occur at once as salient instances.
The contributory reaction of Berlioz and Chopin upon modern music has been relatively less direct, if still apparent. It was exerted first in fertile suggestions to Wagner and Liszt at a susceptible and formative stage in their careers. Both have played some part in the awakening of Russian musical consciousness, Berlioz through his revolutionary orchestral style and programmistic audacity, Chopin through his insinuating pianistic idiom, which we find strongly reflected in the earlier works of Scriabine. Some heritage of Berlioz can undoubtedly be traced in the music of Gustav Mahler, although expressed in a speech quite alien to that of the French pioneer of realism.
It may be remarked in passing that the influence of Brahms has been intensive rather than expansive. This statement is entirely compatible with a just appraisal of the worth and profundity of his music, nor can it in any way be interpreted as a detraction of his unassailable position. But in consideration of the absence of the coloristic and extreme subjective elements in Brahms' style, and in view of its conserving and reactionary force, the great symphonist cannot be regarded as specifically modernistic. Still, with his extraordinary cohesiveness of form and vital rhythmic progress, both in symphonic writing, chamber music and piano pieces, Brahms has affected Reger, Weingartner and Max Bruch in Germany, but also Glazounoff, Rachmaninoff, Medtner, Parry, and others outside of it.
With the four symphonies of Brahms the long evolution of the classic form in Germany has apparently come to an end with an involuntary recognition that little more could be attained upon conventional lines. The symphonies of Bruckner emphasize this realization. Following in Wagner's orchestral footsteps, both their structure and their ideas are of unequal value, in which separate movements not infrequently rise to sublimity of expression and dramatic fervor. While opinion is still divided as to the merit of Mahler's ten symphonies, they represent isolated instances of powerfully conceived and tenaciously executed works whose orchestral eloquence is in singularly apt conformity with their substance. After a precocious and conservative symphony, composed at the age of nineteen, which pleased Brahms, Richard Strauss waited twenty years before attempting in the Symphonia Domestica so elastic a form as almost to escape classification in this type. Despite much foolish controversy over the programmistic features of this work, its brilliant musical substance, its fundamental and logical coherence, and the remarkable plastic coördination of its themes constitute it a unique experiment in free symphonic structure. In France, the symphony has evolved a type somewhat apart from the Teutonic example, although an outcome of it, namely, the cyclical, in which its themes are derived from generative phrases. After three innocuous specimens (one unpublished) Saint-Saëns' third symphony shows many of the attributes of classicality. César Franck's symphony in D minor embodies most of his best qualities, together with much structural originality. Lalo's more fragile work in G minor displays a workmanship and individuality which entitles it to record. Chausson's Symphony in B-flat, despite its kinship with Franck, possesses a significance quite beyond its actual recognition. D'Indy, after composing an excellent cyclic work upon a French folk-song, produced his instrumental masterpiece with a second in B-flat, which for logical structure and fusion of classic elements with modernistic sentiment deserves to be classed as one of the finest of its time. If Russian symphony composers have not as a whole reached as high a mark as in the freer and more imaginative forms, nevertheless Rimsky-Korsakoff, Borodine, Balakireff, Glazounoff, Rachmaninoff, and Taneieff have displayed sympathy with classic ideals, and have achieved excellent if not surpassing results within these limits. The symphonies of Parry, Cowen and others in England have enlarged little upon the conventional scope. Elgar raised high hopes with his first symphony in A-flat, but speedily dismissed them with his second in E-flat. Sibelius, in Finland, having given proof of his uncommon creative force and delineative imagination in his tone-poems, has also exhibited unusual originality and vitality in his four symphonies. The last of these virtually departs from a genuine symphonic form, but its novelty alike in ideas and treatment suggests that he, too, demands greater elasticity of resource. For the problem of combining the native style and technical requirements of the symphony with modern sentiment is one of increasing difficulty.
The field of piano music, chamber works, songs and choral works is of too wide a range for detailed indication of achievement. The piano music of Balakireff, Liapounoff, Rachmaninoff, Scriabine, of Grieg, of Franck, Debussy, Dukas, and Ravel, of Cyril Scott and others merits a high place. The chamber music of Smetana, Dvořák, Grieg (despite its shortcomings), Franck, d'Indy, Fauré, Ravel, of Wolf, Strauss and Reger deserves an equal record. The songs of Wolf and Strauss, of Duparc, Fauré and Debussy, of Moussorgsky, of Sibelius; the choral works of Franck, d'Indy, Pierné, Schmitt, of Delius, Bantock, Elgar and other Englishmen are conspicuous for technical and expressive mastery.