VI
In a later chapter we shall briefly study the wonderful song literature which has been created by the Russian composers in the last half century. From this list, however, we shall exclude two Russians who were extremely productive song writers and are still the best known of their land. For Rubinstein and Tschaikowsky, though they were born in Russia, were Germans in their musical education and would have little to do with the ‘neo-Russian’ group which created the national art-song. They frequently attempt Russian ‘local color’ or oriental exoticism, but in nearly every case their attempt is mannered and self-conscious. Both suffered from over-production. To be quite plain, they seem to lack artistic conscience. Rubinstein, in particular, wrote a great quantity of songs, chiefly to German and Russian texts, which no sincere artist should have dared to sign. They were addressed to the drawing rooms and the tinsel concert halls of the time. Perhaps they were actually the pot-boilers with which he sought to eke out his income. Most of them should be passed over in charitable silence. Tschaikowsky shows a somewhat higher level of artistic effort, but too often he writes much noise and little music. His most pretentious efforts are often built upon themes that would hardly fill a penny whistle. However, he errs not so much through the cheapness of his melodies, as does Rubinstein, as through lack of artistic taste and control.
Anton Rubinstein (1830-1894), a concert pianist second only to Liszt, perhaps suffered from being a public pet. Usually his songs are insufferably sentimental, with a banality in almost every line which counteracts the charm latent in the idea. His accompaniments are usually thin and conventional. His romanticism is of the rag and tatter type, which calls upon the stock modulations and phrases in a routine way. One feels that the composer never saw into his songs, that he wrote three-fourths of his notes with his eyes shut. However, he has done a few thoroughly fine songs. ‘The Asra,’ to Heine’s words, is highly emotional and picturesque. Rubinstein’s setting of Du bist wie eine Blume, with its delicate piano background, may perhaps be ranked second to Liszt’s. There is a fine luxuriance about the song ‘Golden Rolls the Kura Beneath Me,’ while Es blinkt der Tau and Die Waldhexe can command the respect of musicians. ‘Not with Angels’ is another song well worth knowing. Perhaps the lyrics which show Rubinstein the musician in the best light are the ‘Persian Songs,’ which combine exotic coloring and great expressive beauty. Here, probably, the list ends. The remainder of Rubinstein’s large output suffers continually from thinness and banality. The ‘Modern Greek Love Song’ is a touching melody of the simplest type and manages to escape the commonplaceness which seems always about to engulf it. ‘Be Not so Coy’ is graceful and musicianly, and ‘The Ravens’ contains considerable vitality. But it would be useless to enlarge a list of songs, none of which can be praised without some reservation. Rubinstein is one of the composers whose reputation is fast on the wane. We can part with him with light hearts, for what has replaced him is hardly second to anything in all song literature.
Nor in Tschaikowsky’s case need we name the long list of songs that are only somewhat good. He has a few that are thoroughly fine. The children’s song entitled ‘Legend’ makes effective use of modal harmony and remains a most touching and impressive lyric. ‘At the Ball’ is a melody such as Tschaikowsky could create on occasion, utterly aristocratic and artistic. Over this, as over few of his others, the conventional has not cast its spell. ‘The Canary’ is an elaborate effort at oriental color and is completely successful, the piano part being especially fine. The piece is most effective in the concert hall. Perhaps the best known of the Tschaikowsky songs is the setting of Goethe’s famous lyric, Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt. It may be taken as a type of Tschaikowsky’s average. There is in it a certain intensity of feeling, but it is all strained, over orchestrated, as it were, and every now and then—banal. The long list of Tschaikowsky songs includes a number which attempt to be impressively dramatic. They usually make their effect at first hearing, but they fall to pieces beneath scrutiny. They suggest too much brass and percussion and too little—music.
Another Slav whose songs are mainly German is Moritz Moszkowski (born 1851). He wrote with less ambitious intent than Tschaikowsky and achieved some charming results, as in his well known ‘Slumber Song.’ But the conventional hangs over his work, and his is one of the reputations which is fast dying.