III
If the pupils of César Franck are regarded to-day as constituting a definitely reactionary wing in French music, they had in their youth to contend with bitter and outspoken criticism for their propagation of dangerously 'modern' tendencies. On the one hand, they were under suspicion for their uncompromising fidelity to their master's technical and æsthetic tenets, on the other they were abused for their eager receptivity to Wagnerian principles in dramatic reform and use of the orchestra. In addition, they had to justify the innovating features (both harmonically and melodically) of their own definite individualities.
To-day we can look back at the struggle and see that in reality they were contending for principles essentially moderate and even classical in drift, especially when viewed in the light of more revolutionary younger contemporaries. We realize that in the main the influence of Wagner was enormously salutary, even if it postponed considerably the final achievement of a positively nationalistic dramatic idiom. The lesson of an opera which should genuinely unite music and drama, of an orchestral style at once of greater scope and of finesse in illustrative detail, was sadly needed. Moreover it became at last an honor to have been a pupil of Franck, and many claimed this distinction who were not genuine disciples in reality. In addition there were some, like Augusta Holmès, who studied under Franck but who were never materially influenced by him, just as there were others like Paul Dukas who showed the imprint of Franck's methods without actually having been his pupil. Vincent d'Indy thus enumerates the real pupils of Franck: Camille Bênoit, Pierre de Bréville, Albert Cahen, Charles Bordes, Alexis de Castillon, Ernest Chausson, Arthur Coquard, Henri Duparc, Augusta Holmès, Vincent d'Indy, Henri Kinkelmann, Guillaume Lekeu, Guy Ropartz, Louis de Serres, Gaston Vallin and Paul de Wailly. Of these de Castillon, Chausson, Duparc, d'Indy, Lekeu and Ropartz may be considered as representative, and d'Indy by virtue of the totality of his activity is entitled to first consideration.
Vincent d'Indy, born at Paris, March 27, 1851, of a family of ancient nobility coming from Ardèche in the Cévennes, has steadily maintained an attitude of intellectual aristocracy toward his art, although like his master Franck he has labored most democratically for the advancement of musical education.[49] Left motherless when an infant, d'Indy was brought up by his grandmother, Mme. Théodore d'Indy, of whom he likes to record that she had 'known Grétry and Monsigny, and shown a keen appreciation of Beethoven in 1825.'[50] It was owing to her that d'Indy came early in contact with the music of Bach and Beethoven. Piano lessons under Diemer occupied him from the age of ten onwards, and after 1865 he studied piano and harmony at the Paris Conservatoire with Marmontel and Lavignac. But d'Indy was also genuinely interested in composition, and by 1870 he finished and published some piano pieces, a short work for baritone and chorus, and projected others of varying dimensions. When the Franco-Prussian war broke out, d'Indy enlisted and served throughout. After the war he took up the study of law in a half-hearted manner, but his introduction by Henri Duparc to César Franck in 1872 settled his musical career definitely. While Franck criticized severely the piano quartet that d'Indy brought him, he was quick to perceive the latent qualities of the young composer. Forthwith d'Indy studied the organ with Franck at the Conservatoire, but recognizing the inadequate opportunity of obtaining any technical drill in composition at this institution, he became Franck's private pupil. With him he worked faithfully and pertinaciously, and received not only an exhaustive technical grounding, but an illuminating æsthetic comradeship rich in comprehensive discussions of art-principles. D'Indy soon joined the Société Nationale de Musique Française and became an energetic worker in its behalf, being secretary for nearly ten years and becoming president after the death of Franck in 1890. Under his leadership the Society has wonderfully extended its activity. In 1873 he spent a fruitful month with Liszt at Weimar; in 1876 he heard a performance of 'The Ring of the Nibelungs' at Bayreuth, and in 1881 he heard 'Parsifal.' From 1873 to 1878 he was kettle-drummer and chorus-master in Colonne's orchestra, and in 1887 chorus-master for Lamoureux, both exceedingly valuable practical experiences. In 1885 the city of Paris awarded d'Indy the first prize for his choral work Le Chant de la Cloche, whose reception in the following year placed him in the front rank of French composers. In 1896 d'Indy with Charles Bordes and Alexandre Guilmant founded the Schola Cantorum as an école supérieure de musique,[51] to perpetuate the spirit and practical essence of Franck's teachings, to restore the study of plain-chant and the music of the Palestrinian epoch to its proper dignity, and to include in its curriculum masterpieces from the fifteenth to the nineteenth centuries. With the death of Bordes in 1909 (compelled by reason of ill health to live in the south of France, where he founded a branch of the Schola at Montpellier in 1905) and of Guilmant in 1911, d'Indy became sole director of the Schola. In this position he has been prodigal of thought and strength.
To comprehend the nature of d'Indy's evolution, it is essential to detail some of the more significant influences reacting upon him. Brought up in a cultivated milieu, d'Indy absorbed Goethe, Schiller, Herder and Lessing, while not a few of his works are founded on their writings. The German romantic musicians, Mendelssohn, Schumann and Weber, affected him fairly acutely for a while, but in a transitory fashion. While the spell exercised by Franck on d'Indy is both deep and permanent, it could not prevent his instant recognition of the import of Wagner's dramatic procedures, including the magical euphony of his orchestration. While there remains of this 'Wagnerianism' only the normal residue that comes with the acceptance of a great historical figure, d'Indy's music continued to show in method or suggestion his admiration and close study of Wagner. That this is no longer the case is due partly to the natural ripening of individuality consequent upon maturity, and also to the Schola. With the profound study of liturgic music and the literature of the sixteenth century, d'Indy has reverted to ecclesiastic counterpoint as a logical foundation for technique despite his adaptation of its principles to a free and modernistic expression. Moreover, he has used plain-chant melodies to an increasing extent in instrumental or dramatic works. Thus his music has taken on a spiritual and humanitarian character, analogous in inward motive if markedly different in outward sentiment from that of his master.
Modern French Composers:
Emanuel Chabrier Vincent d'Indy
Maurice Ravel Gustave Charpentier
Apart from a relatively small amount of miscellaneous works for chorus, piano, etc., the greater portion of d'Indy's productivity can be divided into two general classes, instrumental (orchestral or chamber music) and dramatic (choral works or operas). Moreover he turns (seemingly with deliberate purpose) from one pole to another of the musical field. If the examination of d'Indy's chief works in chronological order would give the best clue to his evolutionary progress, the consideration of each type by itself has perhaps greater clarity.
D'Indy's earliest published instrumental music, the piano quartet op. 7 (1878-88) and the symphonic ballad La Forêt enchantée after Uhland (1878), show him to be too concerned in mastering the technique of his art to be preoccupied as to individuality. Of this the quartet contains more, although not of an assertive order, together with a sedulous attention to detail. La Forêt enchantée is well planned and effectively carried out in a spontaneous adolescent manner, with distinct Teutonic reflections in the general atmosphere. This is all changed with the 'Wallenstein Trilogy' (1873-81), three symphonic poems after Schiller's drama. The subject has struck fire in d'Indy's imagination. Le Camp de Wallenstein is a kaleidoscope of passing scenes hit off with apt characterization, dramatic touches and no little orchestral brilliancy. Max et Thecla (the earliest of d'Indy's orchestral works), performed as Ouverture des Piccolomini in 1874, remodelled to form the second part of the trilogy, contains all too obvious traces of ineptitude, side by side with pages of genuine romantic sensibility. La Mort de Wallenstein is musically the strongest of the three, and the ablest in technical and expressive mastery, despite echoes of the Tarnhelm motif in the introduction and the palpably Franckian canonic treatment of the chief theme. In inventiveness, dramatic force and markedly skillful orchestration, the trilogy is prophetic of later attainments.
The Poème des Montagnes op. 15 (1881) for piano deserves mention because it is one of a number of works concerned with aspects of nature, a source of evocatory stimulus upon d'Indy in a number of instances. There are romantic qualities of some grandeur in these pieces, as well as dramatic vitality in one idea which d'Indy appropriately used in a later work,[52] but as a whole they do not rank with his best music. If a poetic mood is apparent in Saugefleurie op. 21 (1884) and a vein of piquant fancy is to be found in the suite op. 24 for trumpet, flutes and strings, both are not unjustly to be ranked chiefly as steps leading to works of larger significance.
After Le Chant de la Cloche, whose performance brought instant recognition to d'Indy, the 'Symphony on a Mountain Air' op. 25 (1886) for piano and orchestra is the first instance of d'Indy's deliberate resolve to follow in the footsteps of Franck as regards formal and thematic treatment. The basis of the work is a true folk-song[53] which furnishes through rhythmic and melodic modification the principal themes of the symphony. Here we find more assertive individuality than in any instrumental work since the Wallenstein trilogy, a genuine capacity for logical developments, thoughtful sentiment in the slow movement, and great animation in the vivid Kermesse which forms the finale. Similarly the trio op. 29 (1887) for clarinet, violoncello and piano adopts the Franckian method while permitting an equal freedom of personal idiom. Again passing over minor works for the piano, a few choral or vocal pieces which have a contributory rather than a capital import, and leaving momentarily the opera Fervaal, d'Indy's next striking contribution to instrumental music is the set of symphonic variations Istar, op. 42 (1896). The program of the work, taken from the Epic of Izdubar, is concerned with the descent of Istar into the Assyrian abode of the dead to rescue her lover, leaving a garment or ornament with the guardian of each of seven gates, until naked she has fulfilled the test and restores her lover. Accordingly d'Indy has adroitly reversed the variations from the complex to the simple, to describe the gradual spoliation of the heroine, until the theme at last emerges in a triumphal unison depicting the nudity of Istar. The variations are in themselves of great ingenuity, of picturesque detail and gorgeous orchestral color, but the descriptive purpose is somewhat marred by the artificialities of technical manipulation. Heard as absolute music, the intrinsic qualities of the piece delight the listener and its uncompromising individuality shows the progressive maturity of the composer.
In a second string quartet, op. 45 (1897), d'Indy's inventive fertility in evolving not only the chief themes but accompaniment figures from a motto of four notes, gives further evidence of his skill along the lines suggested by Franck. Certain episodes and even entire movements give cause for suspicion that the composer was drawn to the realization of technical problems rather than that of concrete expression. The contrapuntal texture of the quartet undoubtedly proceeds from a source anterior to Franck, that of the counterpoint of the sixteenth century to which d'Indy has reverted more and more since his connection with the Schola. But it is combined with a superstructure of personal and modernistic expression upon classical and Franckian models in such a way as to achieve a notable beauty. If the Chanson et Danses, op. 50 (1898), for wind instruments, is laid out in small forms, its singular purity of style and its spontaneous mastery of a difficult medium make it of greater weight than its scope would indicate.
D'Indy's instrumental masterpiece, the Symphony in B-flat, op. 57 (1902-3), easily marks the summit of his achievement in this field. If, from a technical standpoint, it surpasses anything hitherto attained by its composer in logic and elasticity of form, subtle and compelling development of themes from its generative phrases, clarity of style despite its external complexity, its creative inventiveness, richness of detail, profundity of sentiment and genial orchestration are of equal magnitude. With the climax of the finale, a chorale derived from a theme in the introduction to the first movement, d'Indy attains a comprehensive sublimity that is not only unique in modern French music, but which is difficult to find surpassed in the contemporary symphonic literature of any nation. While the piano and violin sonata, op. 59 (1903-4), by reason of its smaller dimensions, can scarcely be compared with the symphony, the diversity and elasticity of its thematic development (on three generative phrases) as well as the concrete beauty of its substance make it one of the most distinguished examples of its class since that by César Franck.
Jour d'été à la montagne, op. 61 (1905), three movements for orchestra, with an underlying thematic unification of introduction and conclusion, after prose poems by Roger de Pampelonne, displays a balance of greater homogeneity between constructive and descriptive elements than any of d'Indy's programmistic works. The use of plain-chant themes in the movement Jour,[54] with the subtitle Après-midi sous les pins, and again in Soir, manifests not only a felicitous emotional connotation, but an increasing desire to correlate even the music of externals to spiritual sources.
The poem Souvenirs for orchestra, op. 62 (1906), an elegy on the death of his wife, is not only profoundly elegiac in sentiment, but attains an unusual poignancy through the quotation of the theme of the Beloved from the earlier Poème des Montagnes. Both in Jour d'été à la montagne and in Souvenirs d'Indy employs orchestral effects ranging from delicate subtlety to extreme force in a manner so entirely his own as to dispel forever the question of imitative features.
D'Indy's latest instrumental work, a piano sonata, op. 63 (1907), is more happy in its formal constructive unity than in a euphonious or natively idiomatic piano style. Its variations are hardly convincing music despite their technical skill; the scherzo has brilliant pages but too much of its thematic material is indifferent. The finale suffers for the same reason up to the climax and close, where the theme of the variations (first movement) and that of the finale are brought together with consummate contrapuntal perception.
To summarize, d'Indy as an instrumental composer has with sure and increasing power fused the methods of Franck, with early contrapuntal elements, and his own individualistic sentiment into music which presents the strongest achievement in this direction since that of his master. If d'Indy is sometimes dry or over-complex, his best works show a blending of the intellectual with the emotional which constitutes a persuasive bid for their durability. From a conservative standpoint it is impossible to imagine an abler unification of elements that tend to be disparate or antagonistic. As a master of the orchestra he can still hold his own against ultra-modern developments although he is relatively conservative in the forces he employs. If his piano music, including the Helvetia Waltzes (1882), the Schumanniana (1887), the Tableaux de Voyage (1889) and other pieces are, by comparison with others of his works, insignificant, the cantata Sainte Marie-Magdelène (1885), the chorus for women's voices Sur la Mer (1888), the imaginative song Lied Maritime (1896) are conspicuous instances in a somewhat neglected field.
D'Indy's development as a dramatic composer follows a natural path of evolution. Despite the success of the 'Wallenstein Trilogy,' the largeness of conception and the pregnant details of Le Chant de la Cloche op. 18 (1879-83), for solos, chorus and orchestra, text by the composer after Schiller's poem, although preceded by the dramatic experiments of La Chevauchée du Cid, op. 11 (1879), scene for baritone, chorus and orchestra; Clair de Lune, op. 13 (1872-81), dramatic study for soprano and orchestra, and Attendez-moi sous l'orme, op. 14 (1882), opéra comique in one act, came as a complete surprise. Even if d'Indy had obviously applied Wagner's dramatic procedures, with modifications, to a choral work, the variety and power of expression, the firm treatment of the whole, and the superb use of a large orchestra astounded musicians and public alike. If the influence of both Franck and Wagner could be discerned in the scenes of 'Baptism' and 'Love,' the assertive personality evident in the scenes 'Vision' and 'Conflagration' was entirely original, and the dramatic strokes in 'Death,' especially the telling use of portions of the Catholic service for the dead in vigorous modal harmonization, bespoke a composer of tragic intensity of imagination.
Another surprise came several years later, in 1897, when Fervaal, op. 40 (1889-95), an opera in three acts, text by the composer, had its première at the Théâtre de la Monnaie in Brussels. For a time the numerous and comprehensive Wagnerian obligations obscured the real qualities of the work, and prevented a judicial opinion. Resemblances were too many; a legendary subject, a hero who combined characteristics of Siegfried and Parsifal, a heroine partly compounded of Brünnhilde and Kundry, the renunciation of love as in the 'Ring' and many others. D'Indy furthermore boldly adopted the systematic use of leading-motives, and system of orchestration frankly modelled on Wagner. But though Fervaal was assimilative in underlying treatment, it was far less experimental than Chabrier's Gwendoline. It greatly surpassed the older work not only in thorough absorption of technical method, in continuity and flexibility of style, but in appropriate dramatic characterization, and in adroit manipulation of the orchestral forces. Furthermore, in the essence of the subject dealing with the passing of Pagan mythology, with redemption through suffering, and the outcome a new religious faith whose key-note was the love of humanity, d'Indy achieved a dramatic elevation whose moral force indicated an innovation in French operatic subjects. Its source was ultimately Teutonic, but its realization was concretely Gallic. Despite the manifest obligations, Fervaal not only shows a technical and dramatic skill of a high order, but a tragic note of distinctive individuality. The symbolic use of the ancient hymn Pange Lingua as typifying the Christian religion was not only a genuine dramatic inspiration but a salient instance of effective connotation. With the revival in 1912 at the Paris Opéra, when Wagnerianism was no longer an issue,[55] the intrinsic qualities of Fervaal were appreciated more on their own merits. The incidental music to Catulle Mendès' drama Medée, op. 47 (1898), showed afresh d'Indy's ability in dramatic characterization, as well as his faculty for realizing noble and tragic conceptions.
With the opera L'Étranger, op. 53 (1898-1901), d'Indy made a notable progress in dramatic independence at the cost of unequal musical invention. In the drama (text again by d'Indy) is to be found a conflict between the realistic and the symbolical which was confusing and prejudicial to the success of the opera. In addition the symbolism was not always intelligible or convincing. If there were moral nobility in the drama in the personality of the unselfish Stranger whose devotion to humanity was misunderstood or sneered at until he gave his life in an attempt to relieve ship-wrecked sailors, many of the scenes were somewhat obscure in import. D'Indy also resorted to musical symbolism in the use of a liturgic melody from the office of Holy Thursday, with the text Ubi caritas et amor, ibi Deus est as a thematic basis for the entire work. While this induces an atmosphere of indubitable spiritual and moral elevation in the opera, there are many scenes, especially in the first act, in which d'Indy's dramatic perceptions seem to have deserted him. At the end of the first act, and in the final scene more especially, d'Indy has written music of unparalleled dramatic intensity. In his orchestral style he has virtually renounced Wagner, and its personal eloquence is exceedingly powerful.
The evolution of d'Indy as a dramatic composer forms an epitome of the development of French music along dramatic lines. First slightly irresolute, then acknowledging almost too sweepingly the glamour and originality of Wagner, a nationalistic sentiment has led to the repudiation of his potent influence, and the gradual attainment of dramatic freedom. In a movement whose most characteristic works are Gwendoline, Esclarmonde, Fervaal, and L'Étranger we are compelled to pause at the moment of genuine transition, and defer the completion of this list until later. Report has it that d'Indy has finished the composition of another dramatic work, La Légende de Saint-Christophe (1907-14), which should prove the strongest instance of his unification of the dramatic and spiritual. D'Indy's art has tended more and more to concern itself with religious life and sentiment, and in his unselfish character he is peculiarly qualified to treat such subjects.
With the consideration of d'Indy as an instrumental and dramatic composer, one has traversed the most significant of his works. In addition one must reiterate his services to the Société Nationale, the years of laborious devotion at the Schola and his not infrequent appearances as conductor of programs of French music including a visit to the United States in 1905. Besides, his work as editor and author completes roughly the sum total of his influence. With the reconstitutions of Monteverdi's Orfeo and L'Incoronazione di Poppea, revisions of Rameau's Dardanus, Hippolyte et Aricie and Zaïs, and many other arrangements, the authorship (with the collaboration of Auguste Sérieyx) of the Cours de Composition in two volumes (incomplete as yet) compiled from Schola lectures and showing an extraordinarily comprehensive erudition, the biographies of César Franck and Beethoven, not to mention a host of articles and addresses or lectures, one is able to sense the versatility and the solidity of d'Indy's achievements. It is easy to visualize the debt owed him by French music. In the first place he has steadily been a conserver from the technical standpoint. Using the sixteenth-century counterpoint as a point of departure, he has been innovative harmonically even to the point of prefiguring the whole-tone scale. Using with fluent adaptability the time-honored canon, fugue, passacaglia, chorale, variation and sonata forms, he has been faithful fundamentally to their classic essence, while clothing them in a musical idiom which is definitely modern. While d'Indy is out of sympathy with atmospheric or futuristic tendencies in the music of to-day, he is not of an invital arch-conservative type. As a disciple of Franck he believes in the 'liberty that comes from perfect obedience to the law,' though his speech is permeated with individual eloquence. No more comprehensively eminent figure exists in French music to-day. Others may have shown fresh paths, but they lack the totality of attainment which is eminently characteristic of d'Indy.