The third movement, after a very brief but spirited orchestral flourish, opens with an exultant barytone solo (“And behold then the Heavens opened wide”). The choruses respond with animation (“And yonder a snow-white Horse”). Again the barytone intervenes (“And lo! a great Name hath He written”), and then the choruses take up the majestic theme, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords,” each answering the other with triumphant shouts that gather force and fire as they proceed, and closing with a mighty hallelujah in which voices, orchestra, and organ join with fullest power to produce one of the grandest harmonies ever written. The work is one of extreme difficulty, as the two choirs are treated independently and their harmonies are complicated, though blended in general effect. Neither choir receives assistance from the other. In fact, each rank of voices is required to perform music of the most exacting kind, so that a perfect performance of this great jubilee hymn requires singers of trained skill and more than ordinary intelligence. When thus given, few choruses of modern times reveal such artistic richness and symmetrical proportions.

[17] A German national song, written by Heinrich Harries, a Holstein clergyman, for the birthday of Christian VII. of Denmark. It was originally in eight stanzas, but was reduced to five and otherwise slightly modified for Prussian use by B. G. Schumacher, and in this form appeared as a “Berliner Volkslied” in the Spenersche Zeitung of Dec. 17, 1793.—Grove’s Dictionary.

BRUCH.

Max Bruch, one of the most successful choral composers of the present time, was born at Cologne, Jan. 6, 1838. His father was a government official, and his mother a singer of more than ordinary ability. He received his early instructions, under her watchful supervision, from Professor Breidenstein, at Bonn. In 1852 he continued his studies with Hiller, Reinecke, and Breuning, at Cologne; and at this time began to produce compositions which gave unusual promise. In 1865 he was musical director at Coblenz, and subsequently at Berlin, where he conducted the Singakademie. In 1867 he was appointed chapel-master to the Prince of Schwarzburg-Sondershausen,—a post which he held until 1870. Since that time he has also been honored with a call to the directorship of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society. For some years past he has lived at Bonn and Berlin, and devoted himself exclusively to composition. His first public appearance as a composer was in connection with the performance of his operetta, “Scherz, List und Rache,” set to Goethe’s words; following which he produced several chamber compositions, among them a trio (op. 5), two string quartets (op. 9, 10), Capriccio (op. 2) for four hands, Fantasie (op. 11) for two pianos, the G minor and D minor violin concertos, besides two symphonies. He has also written an oratorio, “Arminius,” and two operas, “Loreley,” to the text which the poet Geibel wrote for Mendelssohn, and “Hermione,” an adaptation of Shakspeare’s “Winter’s Tale.” His greatest successes, however, have been made with his works in the cantata form, as he is a recognized master in writing for large masses of voices and instruments, though many of his solo melodies possess great beauty. In this class of his compositions the most conspicuous are “Scenes from the Frithjof-Saga,” familiarly known as “Frithjof,” “Flight of the Holy Family,” “Roman Triumph Song,” “Roman Obsequies,” “Salamis,” “Fair Ellen,” “Odysseus,” and “Rorate Coeli.”

Frithjof.

The story of the old Norse hero Frithjof is told with exceeding spirit and beauty in the “Frithjof’s Saga” of Esaias Tegnér, Bishop of Wexiö, Sweden, which has been translated into almost every European language, and to which music has been adapted by Crusell, Hedda Wrangel, Boman, Sandberg, Zanders, Caroline Ridderstolpe, Panny, Silcher, and other Scandinavian and German composers. It was Bishop Tegnér’s Saga from which Bruch derived the incidents of his musical setting of this stirring Norse theme.[18]

To make the text of the libretto intelligible, the incidents leading up to it must be briefly told. Frithjof was the son of Thorstein, a friend of King Bele of Baldershage, and was in love with Ingeborg, the king’s daughter and his foster sister. Bele died, and left his kingdom to his two sons. When Thorstein passed away, he bequeathed to his son his ship “Ellida” and his gold ring. Soon thereafter Frithjof sailed across the fiord to demand the hand of Ingeborg. Her brothers Helge and Halfdan scorned his suit, whereupon Frithjof swore they should never have help from him. King Ring, a neighboring monarch, hearing of the trouble between them, improved the opportunity to menace their kingdom. The brothers appealed to Frithjof for aid, but he turned a deaf ear; and when they took the field against Bele, he returned to Baldershage and made love to Ingeborg, with whom he exchanged rings. Helge and Halfdan were defeated by Ring, and as part of the indemnity he demanded Ingeborg’s hand. Finding upon their return that Frithjof had been there without their permission, they required him as a penalty to go to the Orkneys and collect the tribute which the islanders had neglected to pay since the death of Bele. Frithjof sailed away in “Ellida.” Meanwhile the brothers resorted to witchcraft to raise a storm that should destroy his vessel, burned his barrow, and married the lamenting Ingeborg to Ring.

It is at this point that the text of the cantata begins. The first scene pictures the return of Frithjof and his joy at the prospect of seeing Ingeborg, whose hand the false brothers had promised him if he were successful. Learning what had occurred in his absence, Frithjof goes to the temple where the kings are sacrificing, hurls the tribute in Helge’s face, fires the edifice, and hurries to the sea, pursued by his enemies. The hero sails away again in “Ellida,” and becomes a sea-rover. The text closes with this incident. In the Saga, after gaining great fame, Frithjof returns and goes disguised as a salt-burner to Ring’s palace. The king recognized him, and moved by his sad story became his friend and appointed him guardian of his heir. Ring died soon after, and Frithjof married Ingeborg. Helge and Halfdan made war against him, Helge was killed, and Halfdan became his vassal.

The cantata opens with an animated instrumental introduction, “Frithjof’s Return,” leading to the barytone recitative and aria (“How bravely o’er the Flood so bright”),—a very expressive song, interspersed with the tender, graceful chorus of his companions (“O, ’tis Delight when the Land far appeareth”). The second scene is preluded with a wedding march, whose blithe measures are in marked contrast with the bridal chorus (“Sadly the Skald walks before the Train”), and Ingeborg’s song (“My Heart with Sorrow overflowing”), which describes her grief over her unhappy destiny. The third scene (“Frithjof’s Revenge”), for barytone, chorus, and orchestra, is one of great power in its dramatic and descriptive character, as well as in its masterly instrumentation. It begins with a chorus of priests (“Midnight Sun on the Mountain burns”), gradually accelerating until it is interrupted by Frithjof’s cry (“Go to Helas’ dark Abode”). Three bars of chorus intervene (“Woe! O wicked Deed”), when Frithjof, after a short recitative, sings a spirited aria (“Where my Father rests”). At its close, as he rescues Ingeborg’s ring and fires the temple, the chorus resumes (“Woe! he tugs with all his Might at the Ring”). The choral finale of this scene, with its effective instrumentation, is a masterpiece of dramatic music, worthy to rank with the highest work of its kind in opera. After the storm, the calm. In that calm occurs a melodical episode of an extraordinary character. The melody itself is so unlike anything which precedes or follows it that it must have been interpolated. In grateful contrast with the revenge of Frithjof, the burning of the temple, and the curses of the infuriated priests, comes the fourth scene, “Frithjof’s Departure from the Northland,”—a solo quartet for male voices (“Sun in the Sky now mounteth high”), of exquisite harmony, leading up to and accompanying a barytone solo which has rarely been surpassed in the tender beauty of its melody or the majestic sonority of its style:[19]