We have already noticed the beginnings of such an emancipation within the limits of music as an accompaniment. For though it is true that in part here music was compelled by the force of poetical language to be subservient, yet also in part it either moved in benign repose over the more limited characterization of the words or removed itself entirely from the significance of ideas therein expressed, to expatiate of its free will in the musical language of joy or sorrow. The same result is apparent in its effect on an audience, the public as we say, and more especially in its attitude to the music of drama. In other words, an opera has many constituents. We have the local condition, landscape and the rest, or the movement of the action, or incidental episodes and pageants. From another point of view we are confronted with human passions and their expression. In short, there is a twofold content—namely, the external action and the soul-emotion that corresponds. If we take the action simply we shall find that, though it is that in which all the parts cohere, yet regarded merely in its movement forward it is less adapted to musical expression and mainly elaborated in recitative. With a content of this nature an audience is not so arrested; its attention is particularly liable to wander off from the dialogue of recitation, and to fix itself upon the portion of the work that is really musical and melodious. We have an exceptional illustration of this—I have already adverted to the fact—in our modern Italian opera, which is from the first made to fall in with the custom of the audience to engage in conversation, or other ways of enjoying itself, during the chatter or trivialities of the musical dialogue, and which only returns to that part of the music which is truly music, with the full measure of sympathetic attention, enjoyment, and delight. In this case we find, then, that composer, no less than audience, barely fall short of bidding good-bye to the libretto's substance altogether, and of treating music for the purposes of enjoyment as an absolutely independent art.
(α) The true province of such independence is, however, not the accompaniment of vocal music undeniably conditioned by a text, but instrumental music simply. As already observed, the human voice is the appropriate musical expression of man's inner life in its entirety, a life also expressed in ideas and words, which therefore discovers in its own voice and song its distinctive organ, so often as it seeks to express and recover this inner world of its ideas permeated throughout with the concentrated intensity of emotion. In the case of instruments taken by themselves, however, this basis of an associated text of words disappears; here we find an opening for the empire of a music that is confined strictly to its own unassisted powers.
(β) Such a music of particular instruments presented us in quartets, quintets, sextets, symphonies and the like, without text or vocal music, remains unrelated to any movement of ideas independently asserted, and is for this very reason compelled to have recourse to emotions of a more indefinite character, emotions which in such music can only be expressed in general terms. The aspect of importance here, in short, is the varied motion of the music simply, the ups and downs of the harmony or melody, the stream of sound through its degrees of opposition, preponderance, emphasis, acuteness or vivacity, the elaboration of a melodic phrase in every respect that is suitable to the means of musical art, the musician-like fusion of all the instruments as one ensemble of tone, or in their succession, alternation, and emphatic display of themselves and each other. It is in this sphere pre-eminently that the distinction between the ordinary person and the expert of music asserts itself. The ordinary man likes best in music an expression of emotion and ideas that is at once intelligible, that whereof the content is obvious; his predilection is consequently for music under the mode of an accompaniment. The connoisseur, on the contrary, who is able to follow the relation of musical sounds and instruments as composition, enjoys the artistic result of harmonious modulation, and its interwoven melodies and transitions on its own merits. He is entirely absorbed by this alone, and is interested in comparing the detail to which he listens with the rules and principles he is fully able to apply to it, in order thus to follow the performance with judgment and delight, although even in his case it frequently happens that our modern type of virtuosity, with variations in tempo or other nuances for which our connoisseur is unprepared, will perplex him not a little. A complete satisfaction of this kind comes rarely to the mere amateur. He is seized with the vain desire to master this apparently phantomnal process of music, to discover arresting points for his attention in the musical development, and generally more definite ideas and a more detailed content in the volume of sound that invades him. In this respect he seeks to attach to music a symbolical significance, yet can find in the same little beyond mysterious problems that vanish in the moment they are propounded, which baffle his powers of solution and in general are capable of a variety of interpretations.
The composer is able, it is true, on his part to associate with his work a definite significance, a content of specific ideas and emotions, which are expressed articulately in movement that excludes all else; conversely he can, in complete indifference to such a scheme, devote himself to musical structure simply and the assertion of his genius in such architectonic. Composition, however, of this character readily tends to become defective both in the range of its conception and emotional quality, and as a rule does not imply any profound cultivation of mind or taste in other respects. And by reason of the fact that such a content is not necessary, it frequently happens that the gift of musical composition not merely will show considerable development in very early age, but composers of eminence remain their life long men of the poorest and most impoverished intellectual faculty in other directions. More penetration of character may be assumed where the composer even in instrumental music is equally attentive to both aspects of composition; in other words, the expression of a content, if necessarily less defined than in our previous mode, no less than its musical structure, by which means it will be in his power at one time to emphasize the melody, at another the depth and colour of the harmony, or finally to fuse each with the other.
(γ) We have throughout posited subjectivity in its unconstrained presentment within the limits of music as the general principle of this type of composition. This independence of a content already proposed to it from an alien source will, however, more or less assert itself in opposition to mere caprice, though the restrictions under which it admits it are not defined rigorously. For, albeit this type of composition has its own rules and modes, the authority of which no mere whim or fancy can reject, yet they are regulations which only affect the broader aspects of music; in actual detail there is no end to the opportunity which the inner content of soul-life[471], provided it once accepts the boundaries fixed by the essential conditions of musical composition, may discover for its otherwise free expatiation and exposition. And, in fact, as a result of the elaboration of modes congenial to this type, the caprice of individual composers asserts, in contrast to the steady advance of purely melodic expression and music in association with a definite text, a practically unrestrained mastery in every sort of conceit, caprice, interlude, inspiriting drollery, startling suspension, rapid transition, lightning flashes, extraordinary surprises and effects.
(c) The Artist as Executant
In sculpture and painting we have a work of art presented us as an external and independent result of artistic activity; we do not regard this activity itself as the actual creation of life[472]. It is, however, necessary to the presentation of a musical work of art that we should have an executant musician in co-operation, just as in dramatic poetry we have the representative presence of living manhood as an essential factor in this type of art's realization.
We have, then, reviewed musical composition under the two aspects, that is to say, in so far as it sought to conform with a specific content, or struck out on its own free path of independence. We may now in the same way distinguish between two main types of purely executive art. The one is wholly absorbed in the work of art on hand, and makes no attempt to reproduce anything over and beyond this. The other, on the contrary, is not simply reproductive; it actually creates expression, delivery, in short the essential animation of the work, not merely from the composition as composed, but predominantly from its own resources.
(α) In the case of the epic poem, wherein the poet seeks to unfold an objective world of event and modes of action, the rhapsodist, who recites it, has no occasion to do anything further than wholly withdraw the expression of his own personality in the presence of the exploits and events he brings home to us. The more reserved he is in this respect the better; indeed such recitation is not incompatible with a monotoned and unemphasized delivery. What is effective here is the fact of the poem, the poetical execution, the narrative itself, not its realization in voice and speech. This illustration will suggest to us the rationale for our first type of musical reproduction. In other words, if the composition is in a similar way of a genuine objective quality, in the sense that the composer has simply translated his subject-matter, or the emotion that is absorbed with it, into musical language, the artistic reproduction should retain the same objective character. It is not merely true that here there is no reason for the executant to import into it his idiosyncrasies; by doing so he necessarily impairs the true artistic effect. He must subordinate himself entirely to the character of the work, and prescribe to himself simply this attitude of attention. On the other hand, he must not, as is too frequently the case, confuse such an attitude with that of the purely servile artisan, and lower himself to the level of an organ-grinder. If such execution is to retain any artistic claim the artist is bound to avoid leaving the impression of a musical automaton, which merely repeats its prescribed lesson mechanically, and instead to animate the entire work with the heart and soul of the composer himself. The virtuosity of such a vital reproduction is restricted, however, to the just elucidation of the technical difficulties presented by the work, and in doing so the object will be not merely to cover any appearance of triumph over an exacting task, but to portray the freest movement under such conditions, and, in so far as superior artistic endowment and experience can in the particular case manage to do so, attain in the reproduction to the spiritual altitude of the composer and reflect the same in actual performance.