To cite two examples, those of Birmingham and Norwich. The former has been conducted for over forty years, since the period of its inception, by Costa and Dr. Richter; whilst the latter has been directed for over half a century by musicians who were not only not Englishmen, but not even Christians. This grotesque situation was put an end to as
recently as 1908, when Sir Henry Wood was appointed. This ascendency, encouraged by the wealthy classes and contemptuously ignored by the general public, could but have a withering effect on native talent, and its parasitical influence undoubtedly hastened the decay of the once flourishing tree of English music. Handel had many successors here, but no equals. However, so numbed had English musicians become, that nearly any foreigner with sufficient advertising ingenuity, could inspire them with a sense not far removed from awe.
For instance, without wishing to be unjust to such claims on posterity as Spohr may have, we may well express astonishment at the great influence he undoubtedly wielded whilst living in London. His great ability as a performer on the violin, together with his skill as a writer for the instrument, first brought him prominently into publicity, but it was the production of his oratorio, "The Last Judgment," that made him a power in the land.
What chiefly contributed to the fascination his music exercised was a new feature in it that appealed to natures the stern sublimity of Handel's could not touch. This consisted of a dexterous use of chromatic harmony, combined with melody of ballad-like simplicity, which was well calculated to please the untutored ear. Even so robust a personality as Samuel Sebastian Wesley temporarily fell under the spell, though not for long, and afterwards, as if it were an act of expiation, wrote a Church service in which he reverted to the style of Orlando
Gibbons. Spohr, however, was a genius, if not of an exalted order, but what are we to say when we take into consideration the position attained to by Costa in this country?
Surely English musical intelligence must have reached its nadir.
He was allowed for thirty years to exercise absolute sway over the festivals at Birmingham, and there produced, with every accessory of pomp and circumstance, his oratorios, "Eli" and "Naaman," works in which you may seek for and fail to find a redeeming feature. Commonplace in idea, blatant in orchestration, theatrical in melody and primitive in contrapuntal effort, these things were, nevertheless, by the artifice of unscrupulous puffing, foisted upon the public as works of genius.
Yet at this very time there was living an English writer of great endowment, lofty character and true genius, whose music was comparatively neglected. Without making extravagant claims for Sterndale Bennett, it may be said, without hesitation, that his cantata, "The Woman of Samaria," contains music with which nothing that Costa and many others similarly exploited, wrote, could for a moment compare. To what extent indifference to English music and musicians was carried may be illustrated by the fact that he was suffered to submit on an occasion to the insult of Costa's refusal to conduct one of his compositions, and this, without redress!
The day is coming when English composers will have to endure as much adulation as their
predecessors did neglect. When that day arrives I hope they will show some consideration for the memory of William Sterndale Bennett. It was with sincere pleasure that many observed the inclusion of one of his overtures on the historic occasion of the production at the Queen's Hall in London of Sir Edward Elgar's first violin concerto.