In these days the "New Movement" is no longer new, for the trend of modern music is ever progressive. For convenience, however, this classification may include Cornelius, Bruckner, Lassen, A. Ritter, Draeseke, Weingartner, Nicodé, finally Richard Strauss.

Cornelius (1824) would appear to be thus far the only writer for the German stage since Wagner who has had something decidedly original and lasting to say.[63] Being a protégé of Liszt, he became an ardent partisan for Wagnerism. The cool reception of his "Barbier von Bagdad" when first performed at Weimar in 1858 was the immediate reason for causing Liszt to withdraw from that city in disgust. This lack of appreciation is the more unaccountable in that but eight years had elapsed since the residents of Weimar had welcomed Wagner's "Lohengrin" with enthusiasm. "Der Barbier" was a worthy successor to "Lohengrin"; not that the styles of these two operas have even the remotest affinity to each other, but rather the very originality of the "Barbier" should have commanded unquestionable approval. However, the succeeding generation of theatre-goers has been pleased to commend the work after a fashion, though it is to be regretted that this appreciation has not become whole-souled and universal. Not only is the music itself charming and vivacious, and the plot highly ingenious, but the orchestration is brimming over with mirth and good humor, portrays in the most subtle manner the amorous as well as the sentimental situations, and brings into requisition some very ludicrous traits of instrumentation. Moreover the Finale, "Salamaleikum," is a most magnificent piece of ensemble writing. Cornelius followed Wagner in writing all of his texts himself. "Der Cid" is less spontaneous than its predecessor, but the orchestration is that of a master, being imbued with genuine local coloring together with profound melancholy, suppressed emotion and heroic outbursts. It is interesting to conjecture what the outcome of Cornelius' setting of "Gunlöd" would have been, for he left behind him an unfinished text based upon the elder Scandinavian Edda.

Anton Bruckner (1824) is commonly identified with the New Movement, but he might with equal propriety be rated as a classical-romanticist. Although he possesses many warm admirers, the permanent value of his writings is open to question. His formal structure, contrapuntal treatment, and thematic development bear the impress of a scholarly touch, but in spite of certain leanings toward Wagnerian principles, his heavy style and rather precise music have a chilling effect upon the majority of listeners. The melodies are not flowing, the rhythm is monotonous, and the orchestration, though clever, lacks buoyancy and warmth.

The next four composers of this somewhat arbitrary list can be summarily disposed of, since they have advanced the evolution of orchestration to no perceptible degree. This statement is by no means intended to belittle the sterling qualities of their musicianship. All of them have won renown in their respective fields of activity, and their creative efforts disclose broad culture, wide experience, and a facile pen. Their instrumentation is invariably effective. Eduard Lassen (1830) and Felix Draeseke (1835) took a prominent part in propagating the tenets of Liszt and Wagner. Draeseke frankly declared himself for Wagner, and assisted him by means of his literary skill. Lassen succeeded Liszt as Generalmusikdirector of the Weimar Opera. Similar to that of many another talented though at first obscure aspirant, the success of his operas was due to the enterprise of Liszt himself. During his later years Lassen devoted himself almost exclusively to song-writing. As recently as two years before his death, which occurred in 1903, he remarked to the present writer that after having studied and conducted Wagner's works as far back as forty odd years ago, he had come to the conclusion that he himself had no further message to give to the dramatic world; consequently he withdrew from the arduous contest. Alexander Ritter (1833) was an able and painstaking composer, and wrote for the opera as well as for the orchestra alone. His scoring was consistent with his scholarship, but the substance of his productions embodies little that is new. Weingartner (1853) is best known as a concert conductor. His directing exercises a peculiarly magnetic fascination, and that quite especially upon the ladies! His movements are wonderfully graceful, and suggest, at times, a subtle hypnotic power flavoring of Orientalism.

In turning to the magnum opus of Nicodé (1853), we find ourselves face to face with one of the most interesting specimens of modern orchestration—which is saying a great deal in this age when the art of scoring has reached such stupendous virtuosity. "Das Meer," symphonic ode for solo voices, male chorus, orchestra, and organ, may not reveal striking originality of subject-matter, but it is a magnificent exposition of realism and discloses the author's keen appreciation for the imaginative, the descriptive, the picturesque. One could readily suppose that Nicodé might have been more or less influenced by Rubinstein's "Ocean Symphony," but this is not at all the case. Nicodé's primary aim was the acquisition of superb and startling effects by means of tone-color pure and simple. His technique is enormous. One of his strongest points is the ability to procure scintillating tints by means of multiple division of strings alone. By piling up a large number of independent and seemingly irreconcilable melodic themes one on top of the other, a marvellous effervescent polyphony is procured. The best example of pure tone effect is revealed in the movement entitled "Phosphorescent Lights." The modern symphonic orchestra is, of course, employed, being further augmented by an additional harp, and two tenor-tubas with the usual bass-tuba. The battery assumes gigantic proportions in that demand is made for two pair of kettle-drums, one pair of cymbals, a bass-drum, a triangle, a gong, and a set of bells. Even these additions do not satisfy the composer, for behind the stage is concealed a brass band of three trumpets, seven trombones and a bass-tuba.

IX.

Richard Strauss[64] (1864). It is universally conceded that the greatest master of orchestration after Richard Wagner is Richard Strauss. The latter's career thus far bears some affinity to that of Mendelssohn as regards early artistic surroundings, scholarly training in branches other than music, and exemption from monetary anxiety. But whereas Mendelssohn's affluent circumstances and prosperous career were undoubtedly detrimental to the development of profound pathos and tragic intensity, Strauss has made the demonstration that worldly cares and petty professional obstacles are not the essential stimuli for herculean artistic growth embodying the portrayal of experiences not personally experienced.

(Biography.) Strauss was reared in a schooling so orthodox that not even his severest critics can venture to deny his mastery of traditional usages,—indeed, in his earlier works Strauss has given tangible proof of his ability to compose in conservative forms. He is the son of a French-horn player of rare genius, whose memorable performance of his son's horn concerto first taught the present writer the latent possibilities of that instrument. Strauss is said to have produced a polka at the age of six, whereas already during his boyhood days he devoted his spare moments to writing orchestral overtures, choruses, sonatas, and the like. Although enrolled as a student at the Gymnasium and for one year at the University of Munich, he was simultaneously given opportunity to develop his musical talents along the prescribed lines of practical training. His public career as a composer may be said to have begun when two of his choruses were given at a school concert. In 1880 he succeeded in having three of his songs sung at a public concert. He was then only sixteen years old. These minor achievements, however, fall into insignificance in comparison with the recognition awarded him in the following year, when Benno Walther, concertmeister of the Munich Opera, produced the string quartet, op. 2, in the course of the annual series of chamber concerts. Walther's quartet was at that time highly authoritative in musical circles. In the same year Hermann Levi performed the symphony in D minor. Strauss next drew attention to himself with a serenade, op. 7, for thirteen instruments, and thereby interested no less a person than Hans von Bülow. This was destined to influence Strauss' entire career, for in 1885 he was engaged as musical director at Meiningen in a subordinate though honorable position to von Bülow himself. It was von Bülow, therefore, that gave Strauss his initial training as an orchestral conductor, a branch of art in which he has now attained proficiency only secondary to his powers as a composer. At Meiningen he was enabled to assimilate not only von Bülow's magnetic technique and authoritative interpretation, but was also led to grasp Wagner's ideals of conducting. In addition he also appeared occasionally as a concert pianist, and meanwhile completed his more or less conservative symphonic phantasy "Aus Italien." Here, too, he came in contact with the Wagnerian enthusiast, Alexander Ritter, an intimacy that had much to do with the subsequent moulding of his first distinctively original works, "Macbeth" and "Don Juan." Toward the close of 1885 he succeeded von Bülow as conductor of the Meiningen Orchestra, retained the post for one season, and then accepted a subordinate position in his native city under Levi and Fischer at the Munich Royal Opera. Like most prophets in their own country, he had to overcome the prejudice of some of the older gentlemen of the orchestra who had been colleagues of his father and had seen the son grow up. For three years he was now occupied with the rather thankless task of conducting lesser operatic performances, but devoted himself none the less with untiring effort to the development of his creative talents, which bore fruit in "Macbeth," "Don Juan" and "Tod und Verklärung." In 1889 he was called to the Weimar Opera, first as subordinate to Lassen, eventually as full-empowered potentate. He there married one of the operatic singers, Pauline de Ahne, daughter of a Bavarian general. While at Weimar he wrote his first opera, "Guntram." In 1894 Strauss returned to the Munich Opera in a capacity more responsible than formerly. His services as a conductor of unusual ability were by this time much in demand for special concert performances in European musical centres. The atmosphere of his native city must have been particularly inspiring to his creative Muse, for from 1894 to 1899 no less than four mighty orchestral works emanated from his pen—"Till Eulenspiegel," "Also sprach Zarathustra," "Don Quixote," "Ein Heldenleben." In 1899 he was called to the Berlin Opera as an associate with Muck. It is here that he at present wields the baton with unflagging zeal, in spite of his restless activity as a composer. Thus far his most important contributions to the twentieth century have been the opera "Feuersnoth" and the "Symphonia Domestica."[65]

Such are the biographical outlines of an epoch-making composer, an eminent conductor, and a well-trained pianist who has but entered upon the fifth decade of his lifetime. Before proceeding to an examination of the aims and ideals that are at the root of Strauss' huge orchestral conceptions, some comparisons between him and his predecessors as suggested by Richard Aldrich will bear citation:—