Representative adherents to Magyar characteristics are Franz Erkel (1810), Mosonyi (1814), Albert Doppler (1821), his brother, Karl Doppler (1826), and Czibulka (1842). By admitting the cosmopolitans, Liszt (1811) and Goldmark (1830), this list of Hungarian composers is sufficiently complete for all present purposes. Erkel and the elder Doppler are looked upon as the leading national opera composers. Of the two, Erkel displayed the greater originality. Author of no less than nine operas, he reached his highest attainments in "Bank Bán" and "Hunyadi Laszlò." The latter combines native traits with German and Italian operatic and orchestral traditions. Albert Doppler's foreign reputation is primarily due to his extensive concert tours as a flute virtuoso. His additional activity as a composer, however, gave him high standing in his own country. The present writer recalls an interesting conversation with his brother, Karl Doppler—late Kapellmeister at Stuttgart—in reference to the opera "Erzébeth" written jointly by Erkel and the two Dopplers. He described the work as "Gelegenheitsmusik"; such was the haste demanded by the attending circumstances, that the first act was put into rehearsal before the last act was completed, whereas Karl Doppler himself was still busy scoring (in Italian style) on the very day appointed for performance. Erkel's contemporary, Mosonyi or Michael Brandt, displayed considerable versatility in forms both small and large, whereas Czibulka represents a later generation of Hungarian composers. His position as bandmaster at Vienna gave him opportunity to cultivate his native attributes in the guise of dance music, in addition to which he wrote an operetta entitled "Pfingsten in Florenz."
It cannot be said that the collective efforts of these composers have developed a national style of orchestration. There is plenty of color and variety in their scoring, but the latent charm of their works is the result of melodic and rhythmic novelty, and not of instrumentation.
II.
Bohemia. In marked contrast to the above-mentioned limitation is the evolution of Bohemian orchestration, especially when one considers the fact that the pioneer, Smetana, was content to build upon Mozart's system of scoring, whereas already in the next generation his illustrious pupil, Dvořák, developed that art to a point excelled by none. To mention these two men is synonymous for both the birth and the maturity of a native Bohemian school of composition. They both relied upon the Folk-song as a basis for operation, but Dvořák advanced far beyond his master. A worthy successor to these two men has not yet appeared upon the horizon, even though Dvořák's pupil, Joseph Suk, reveals latent possibilities for future prominence.[92]
Smetana (1824-1884) is a typical Czechish composer. Though he studied for a short time under Liszt and showed himself an enthusiastic follower of the "New Movement," his melody and rhythm are thoroughly Bohemian; moreover, his music, like his orchestration, occasionally reveals a certain naïve touch of Mozart. Smetana wrote as many as eight operas, but the very first of these, "Die verkaufte Braut," not only gave him his foreign reputation, but has proved the best and most enduring of them all. The overture of this work, with its magnificent fughetta, forms an admirable concert number by itself. It might be incidentally added that this overture contains horn attacks of such difficulty as to have proved a stumbling block at public performance to no less an orchestra than the Royal band in Munich under Levi's magnetic baton some fifteen years ago. Smetana's affiliations with Liszt bore fruit in a worthy series of symphonic poems, whereas his native inheritance is emphasized in his national dances for pianoforte.
III.
Dvořák[93] (1841-1904) shares with Saint-Saëns, Tschaikowsky and Richard Strauss the distinction of having done more for the advancement of modern orchestration than any other composer since Wagner. For his conservation of classic symphonic forms he might be ranked as an extreme classical-romanticist, but he has gone far beyond Brahms or Rheinberger in that his harmonic progressions are novel and daring, his orchestration varied and rich. Moreover, his music is conspicuously national in character and embodies the very essence of Bohemian melody and rhythm. But though Dvořák's form may be orthodox, it is nevertheless subjected to differentiated transformations according to the particular branch of composition that is being treated. In this he resembles Saint-Saëns, and some interesting comparisons might be made between the latter's symphony in C minor and Dvořák's "From the New World." It will be recalled that this successful experiment of Saint-Saëns allows of but two grand structural divisions, which, however, reveal the outlines of the traditional four movements. Organic unity is obtained by reintroducing important subject-matter from the first part of the work into the second. Neither Saint-Saëns nor Dvořák make use of a dramatic scheme like Berlioz's "Symphonie fantastique" with its l'idée fixe, but as Krehbiel, the eminent New York critic, states it: "Dvořák in his symphony entitled "From the New World," in which he has striven to give expression to the American spirit, quotes the first period of his principal subject in all subsequent movements, and then sententiously recapitulates the principal themes of the first, second and third movements in the finale; and this without a sign of the dramatic purpose confessed by Berlioz."
Dvořák's chamber music presents still another phase of the subtle manner in which he retains and yet remodels the outlines of classic form. In regard to musical contents, the essence of national melody and rhythm is ever in evidence, but whereas in their original shape these folk-tunes are frequently commonplace and even vulgar, Dvořák's brilliant imagination transforms them into worthy conceptions that are both dignified and noble. These he adorns with vivacious yet refined orchestration.
Yet another illustration of Dvořák's versatility is displayed in the "Spectre's Bride," which embraces in a felicitous manner the supernatural element peculiar to the works of Spohr and Weber.