Buck (1839) is conspicuously identified with the evolution of American church music. As a composer he is at his best in religious composition in smaller forms. On the other hand, his important contributions to the branch of larger choral works with orchestral accompaniment must not be overlooked. His scenes from Longfellow's "Golden Legend" were deemed worthy of winning one of the coveted prizes at Cincinnati. The cantata for male chorus "Columbus" displays masterly command in the deployment of men's voices, whereas the "Light of Asia" is one of the standard works of America. Buck has rather neglected the field of purely orchestral music, but the scoring of his choral compositions reveals the firm hand of a master.
Foote (1853). Turning to a younger generation who have sturdily maintained the high standard set before them, one naturally recalls the name of one who may perhaps be regarded as the most satisfactory exponent of the efficiency of two American teachers, Paine and Lang, the most significant representative of an exceptional class of musician—the native trained composer, Arthur Foote. It is generally conceded that Foote is possessed of unusual powers in writing for men's voices. Widely known is his "Skeleton in Armor" with its forceful utterance, as well as his poetic setting of "The Farewell of Hiawatha." Again, in the field of song lyrics he has endeared himself to the worthy army of singers by virtue of a notable series of exceptional and widely contrasted productions. His true strength would, however, appear to reveal itself in the noblest vehicles of musical thought—the quartet and the orchestra. Foote does not aim to produce sensational effects, in fact his orchestral canvas has, on the whole, a grayish hue. The seriousness of his purpose, the serenity of his ideals, and the unmistakable impress of a cultured University training are faithfully reproduced in the nobility, the breadth, and the sober though appropriate coloring of his artistic conceptions. The present writer is inclined to regard him as the Brahms of this country.
Chadwick (1854). In contrast to Foote's domestic education, Chadwick stands among the first of that memorable list of students who served a rigorous apprenticeship under Rheinberger in Munich, and thereby helped to perpetuate his name in America. A mighty throng followed in Chadwick's footsteps, among whom were the composers Parker, Huss, Bullard, Atherton; the educators Lewis and Spalding; the organists and teachers John White, Howland, and Bertram Henry. Not only did Chadwick with one stroke make his individuality felt upon returning to his native land,—an individuality that has since been strengthened rather than lessened,—but his appointment to the directorship of the New England Conservatory of Music was a choice so opportune that that institution has since been raised to a standard of excellence it never before had enjoyed, and is becoming one of the recognized arbiters in the musical affairs of the country. Like Foote, Chadwick has tried his hand in divers fields of composition, being particularly successful in writing part-songs as well as songs with pianoforte accompaniment. Large choral works have, however, also claimed his attention, and are represented by his cantata "The Pilgrims," and again by "The Viking's Last Voyage" for barytone solo, male chorus and orchestra. It appears to be the fortune of American composers to become known primarily by their vocal compositions. This is also true of Chadwick. Nevertheless, he has given expression to his loftiest inspiration in a series of chamber and orchestral pieces that stamp him as a keen judge of those essentials required for large instrumental works. His form, though conservative, is well rounded. His orchestration is chaste and refined rather than sensational and glowing. His music is above all manly and energetic. Personally, Chadwick may not regard his operetta "Tabasco" with all too favorable eyes; yet the step taken was assuredly in the right direction. It is to be regretted that our contemporary American composers seem unable to take a firm stand in imperceptibly educating the public with a light yet artistic genre of music such as characterizes Chadwick's "Tabasco" or the earlier operettas of Victor Herbert and de Koven.
MacDowell (1861). In venturing the assertion that MacDowell stands apart on his exalted pinnacle of fame, there is not the slightest danger of incurring disparaging comparisons between him and his eminent contemporaries who have been classified under this heading. Paine's monumental achievements are unassailable. Buck occupies an honorable position as one of the foremost of our writers of church music. Foote and Chadwick have each of them established their respective individuality as composers of exceptional ability. Parker holds undisputed sway in his particular domain. What separates MacDowell from his colleagues is the difference between his perspective and theirs. His conceptions betray certain tendencies that are foreign to their Anglo-Saxon ruggedness with its Teutonic substructure. MacDowell's Scotch ancestry, his intimacy with Raff, his contact with the artistic life of Paris,—all these circumstances helped to mould his exceptional genius into a form distinctly original and unique. It is natural that the influence of his teacher, Raff, should predominate. But whereas Raff's programmatic expositions deal in the romance of enchantment, of the supernatural, of the fantastic, MacDowell pins his faith to the romance of poetic imagination symbolic of emotional realities. Lawrence Gilman, in a persuasive essay on MacDowell, eulogizes, together with other works, his symphonic poems "Hamlet and Ophelia," "Lancelot and Elaine," "The Saracens" and "Lovely Alda" as "the works of a master of imaginative expression, a penetrative psychologist, above all, an exquisite poet." The same writer further remarks that "MacDowell has chosen occasionally to employ, in the realization of his purposes, what seems at first to be precisely the magical apparatus so necessary to the older romanticism. Dryads and elves inhabit his world, and he dwells at times under faery boughs and in enchanted woods; but for him, as for the poets of the Celtic tradition, these things are but the manifest images of an interior passion and delight. Seen in the transfiguring mirror of his music, the moods and events of the natural world and of the incessant drama of psychic life are vivified into shapes and designs of irresistible beauty and appeal. Both in theory and in practice, MacDowell stands uncompromisingly for music that is, of intention, persistently pictorial and impressionistic.... It is as much in his choice of subjects as in the peculiar vividness and felicity of his expression, that he is unique among tone-poets of the external world." The above citations present a faithful picture of MacDowell's philosophical reasonings. His chord formation, harmonic progressions, thematic treatment and structural form are all in accord with the psychological subtleties to be expressed.
It is particularly in orchestration that MacDowell discloses certain French characteristics. Many of his pages might have been written by Saint-Saëns himself, but the "solid" foundation inoculated by the exacting requirements of his German training is never entirely absent. As a result, MacDowell's scoring frequently surpasses even that of his illustrious French contemporary. MacDowell proves no exception to the rule in that his popularity is due not so much to his more significant orchestral works as to his smaller offerings such as his attractive and highly ingenious pieces for the pianoforte. He has still many years before him, and gives promise of ever increasing power and versatility. America may well be proud of him![110]
Parker (1863). In several respects Parker's orchestral and choral style bears some affinity to that of both Foote and Chadwick. His subject-matter, like theirs, is serious—at times even severe; his formal structures are conservative; his command of vocal forces is supreme. Again, his orchestral colors, like theirs, are accused of being cold and gray,—devoid of scintillating tints and glowing hues. This may be true to a certain extent. But when one considers the genre of choral composition to which these three composers are addicted, it will be readily seen that a radical readjustment of their orchestral pages in favor of warmer coloring would be inconsistent with the nature of their oratorical settings. Among the most conspicuous of Parker's productions are the overtures "Regulus" and "Count Robert of Paris," the ballad for chorus and orchestra "King Trojan," and, of course, his masterpiece "Hora Novissima." Parker shares with MacDowell the good fortune of having already won enduring recognition in foreign lands,—Parker in England, MacDowell in France, Germany and Russia. Yale University was one of the first institutions of this country to follow Harvard's lead in establishing a chair of music, and showed sound judgment in selecting so eminent a composer as Parker to occupy that chair.
As already intimated, the country is further represented by a dignified array of American born composers for the orchestra, who are working against fearful odds in behalf of improved conditions for native art. Gilchrist (1846) was, like Arthur Foote, trained in this country, and is identified with the city of Philadelphia. His forte is choral and religious music, being, moreover, a remarkably successful prize winner. His symphonic attempts show sound scholarship, but are conservative and non-programmatic. The name of F.G. Gleason (1848) is highly respected in Chicago. His works display harmonic rather than melodic strength, and were frequently performed by Theodore Thomas. In Pittsburgh, Adolph Foerster (1854) has done fine work in both large and small forms. Of unusual interest are the scores of J.H. Beck (1856) in consequence of their novel effects and warm coloring. His early success in Germany justified the hope that he would become widely known, but he seems to have so far intentionally avoided the publishers. Arthur Bird (1856) cannot be blamed for preferring to live in the midst of the generous artistic encouragement of a European city. Of especial merit are his symphony in A and the ballet "Rübezahl." The representative composer of San Francisco is Edgar S. Kelley (1857). He was a pupil of Clarence Eddy, but studied also in Stuttgart. He is essentially a programmatic writer, possesses considerable originality and humor, orchestrates with skill and daring, and has been especially successful with his melodramatic music to "Macbeth." Henry Schoenefeld (1857) was a pupil of both Reinecke and Lassen, and was identified with Chicago. His undertakings are worthy of consideration in consequence of his adaptation and idealization of negro melodies in his Suite for string-orchestra, op. 15, before Dvořák's experiments of similar nature. Schoenefeld has since written an overture entitled "In the Sunny South." San Francisco can boast of yet another orchestral composer of repute—Frederick Zeck Jr., who has written, among other things, several symphonies, a symphonic poem, and even a romantic opera.
Frank van der Stucken (1858) cuts a large figure in the evolution of American music. He is frequently though erroneously regarded as a German, but he was born in Texas, and studied not only in Leipzig but under Benoit in Antwerp as well. He first rose to prominence as director of the Arion Male Chorus Society of New York. In 1885 he instituted a series of "Novelty Concerts" that opened up new possibilities to America's neglected composers. Since undertaking the directorship of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra in 1895, van der Stucken has made himself a national benefactor by encouraging and repeatedly performing American productions. He is himself a composer of no mean ability, possesses decidedly modern tendencies, and orchestrates with unerring certainty. His compositions cover a wide field and include an opera "Vlasda," a symphonic prologue "William Ratcliff," and a Suite on Shakespeare's "Tempest."
Walter Damrosch (1862) has acquired the right to be ranked with America's orchestral composers on account of his grand opera "The Scarlet Letter," and Reginald de Koven (1859) knows how to enhance the scores of his comic operas with a lightness of touch and some clever devices. "Robin Hood" and "The Fencingmaster" are sprightly and refined even though guilty of occasional plagiarism.