This is the dance of Beethoven—an ingenious method of excitement and self-torture, and at the same time a strict religious ceremonial. It consists of little more than an exceedingly rapid gyration upon an imaginary pivot, spinning round and round like tops, with almost incredible velocity, till overcome by dizziness from the protracted rotary motion, or by physical exhaustion, they fall in a swoon, after passing through all the successive stages of delirious frenzy always attending intense fanatical religious excitement, no matter what the race or faith. The dance is accompanied by frantic gestures, wild cries, and doleful groans, and often by a species of weird oriental music, adapted to its rhythm, and intended to stimulate the dancers to greater excitement, and consequently greater exertion and speed.

This music, as well as a portrayal of the dance, Beethoven gives us in this composition, which has been admirably transcribed for the piano by Saint-Saëns. It begins softly and a little slowly. As the dancers gradually get under way and warmed to their task, it gradually grows in speed and power as the frenzy increases, till it reaches a furious, almost insane climax; then rapidly diminishes as, one by one, the dancers, exhausted or swooning, drop out of the circle.

It demands great freedom and facility in octave playing, and endless verve and abandon of style; and needs, to be comprehended and enjoyed by an audience, some explanation of its character and artistic signification, either given by the player or printed on the program.

WEBER
1786 1826

Weber: Invitation to the Dance, Op. 65

Critics have generally ascribed to this composition the honor of inaugurating a new and important department in the realm of tonal creation—namely, that of descriptive or program music; that is to say, music which attempts to embody in tone something more than mere ideal beauty of metrical form and rhythmic symmetry, and to express something more than vague emotional states, too intangible for utterance in words; music which conveys not only sensuous pleasure and indefinite moods, but a distinct, realistic suggestion; which gives, against a background of harmony, with its general emotional coloring, an actual picture of some scene in nature or experience in life; music, in a word, which takes its place in line with the advanced position of the other arts, in progress toward dramatic truth and worthy realism. Descriptive music, like landscape painting, has been the latest, and in some respects the loftiest, phase of the art to be developed.

We can scarcely with justice credit to Weber, as a strictly original departure, the opening of this new path in the domain of musical art, which was in modern times to lead so far and to such important and magnificent results. Descriptive music, of a more or less pronounced character, had already appeared from time to time, though rarely so labeled, and mostly in detached fragments, in the works of most of the greatest composers, preëminently in those of Haydn, Mozart, Gluck, and Beethoven. Even the austere Handel was not entirely free from occasional digressions into this field. But we may safely ascribe to Weber the honor of being one of the first to have the full courage of his convictions and to declare himself boldly for this phase of creative art, by giving to this distinctly descriptive composition an unmistakably descriptive title, thus fearlessly unveiling and emphasizing its realistic intentions.

The work opens with a simple but serious passage of recitative in single notes, in the baritone register, conveying the “Invitation to the Dance” as if by a mellow masculine voice. Then comes the reply, in a soft soprano, brief, kindly, but as if offering some playful objection, as the lady, true to her sex, waits to be asked a second time before saying yes. The invitation is repeated more urgently, followed by the assenting treble, as the lady steps upon the floor on the arm of her partner. A brief dialogue ensues, in which the two voices can be distinctly traced by their differing registers, alternating and interwoven, as the pair pace the polished floor, exchanging those airy nothings of the ball-room. Then the orchestra enters, with a passage of brilliant resonant chords, full of spirited life and gay challenge, calling the dancers to their places, and the waltz proper begins. Its crisp, piquant rhythm and free elasticity of movement, its bright, graceful melody and cheerful major harmony, all express youthful elation, fresh, joyous excitement, thoughtless, hence unmixed, gaiety.