Famous composers and their works, Vol. 2

by Unknown

"The Pilgrimage of the Rose" cannot claim a similar high position. Arranged for Schumann by Horn after a poem of Pfarrius, it deals with a conventional story of a weakly, sentimental character, in spite of a few highly poetical incidents, and is unduly extended. Yet the music contains a most beautiful chorus for male voices with horns, and charming mixed choruses for female and mixed voices, their tones being either soft and mellow or as bright and spirited as anything written in much younger and happier years. The solos are, however, more monotonous, the famous duet of the miller and his wife being one of the few exceptions. It is also doubtful whether Schumann did right in arranging the original piano accompaniment for a whole orchestra.

The second immortal work, by which Schumann has enriched vocal concert literature, is his music to scenes from Gœthe's "Faust." Part I. consists, after the weak overture, of the scenes in the garden, the dome, and before the Mater dolorosa, from the first part of Gœthe's tragedy; the scene in the garden is distinguished by a peculiarly fine musical dialogue and orchestral accompaniment, that in the dome by the addition of an impressive Dies iræ. The more important scenes, however, divided in two parts, are from Gœthe's second play: "Ariel's song in the morning dawn," "Sunrise," "Faust's monologue," "Scene of the four grey women," "Faust's blinding, death and glorification." For this mystic poetry Schumann has found a sublime musical language, which revealed to thousands the beauty of Gœthe's verses, and the hidden meaning of his thoughts. The fantastic scene of the grey women, Faust's farewell song, the dialogue between Mephisto and his Lemures, digging Faust's grave, the latter's death followed by a wonderful postlude, are extremely impressive. Yet the climax is reached in the half-religious, allegorical third part, where saints and angels sing, amongst them Gretchen as "una poenitentium." Here are true gems of musical sublimity, comparable with nothing else in the works of Schumann or any other composer. The incorporeal world of spirits becomes almost visible through the music. The final chorus in eight parts shows in its solemn beginning a marvellous mastery of contrapuntal art, while the allegro on the "eternal womanly" perhaps in neither of the two different settings which Schumann has written, fully reaches his high intentions, and is unduly extended. There are many solo and concerted numbers, yet Faust remains the central figure. The sublime music accorded to him makes his part unique, approaches nearest the Christ in Bach's "Passion," and demands a noble voice, technical perfection, and the finest shading in the spiritual expression of every phrase. The orchestral part, too, demands a careful preparation. Schumann also composed many numbers in which Gœthe did not prescribe the assistance of music, and if it is true that as a whole this work has a fragmentary character, one must not forget that Schumann originally intended it for the concert stage, and as such it will forever remain one of the noblest tasks for great choral societies. However it cannot be denied that here too a full enjoyment of all the musical depth and beauty is only possible in connection with the German text, with the peculiar melody, rhythm and color of Gœthe's diction.

Of a somewhat fragmentary character is also the music to Byron's "Manfred." This dramatic poem with its wealth of thought and almost unbearable gloom was never intended for theatrical purposes; it has a kindred spirit with Faust and even with Schumann's own nature, and certainly no composer could have entered deeper into this poetical glorification of melancholy and despair. Schumann wrote the music under such conditions of mind that it could only come from the depths of his heart. The overture ranks among his greatest productions as a highly impressive picture of a passionate mental struggle, rich in new orchestral effects and finenesses of expression. Besides a lovely entr'acte the many melodramas force even upon those who generally are opposed to this form, the confession that Schumann was one of the greatest musical psychologists; while the few vocal numbers (except perhaps the song of the spirits of Ahrimanes and the Requiem) have less significance. One feels this especially in theatrical performances, which, although not intended by either poet or composer, impress us still deeper than the usual reading, singing and playing in concert form.

Already in 1842, Schumann had confessed that German opera was the subject of his daily prayer, it being a field in which much could be accomplished. This longing took a more decided shape in Dresden, where the operatic interest predominated. There he heard many new and old operas, watching also the development of him who was destined to become the central figure of modern musical dramatic art. Schumann's relation to Wagner's personal and artistic individuality and his opinion of the latter's earlier works cover a ground on which we hope the future will gain more information than that afforded by the occasional remarks in Schumann's letters. He had an irresistible desire to participate in the reform of the opera, and has shown in his "Genoveva," at least his idea of the best solution of the problem. He believed honestly in his ability to write dramatic music. After searching a long while among old legends and stories, thinking also of Nibelungen, Wartburg Contest and similar subjects, he decided in favor of "Genoveva," already treated as tragedy by Tieck and Hebbel. The painter-poet Reinick was invited to write a libretto, based mainly on Hebbel's drama; his book not being satisfactory, Schumann applied to Hebbel, who, however, politely declined. The composer, being thus forced to arrange it himself, not only combined the two different plots and styles of Tieck and Hebbel, but added new features, and omitted others which would have greatly increased the sympathy for his play and heroine. Musically he followed Weber in his last operatic experiment "Euryanthe," closely uniting words, music and action, and connecting the single scenes into one coherent act. But he substituted for the old form of the recitative the more melodious, but certainly more monotonous, undramatic arioso. There are four acts and four principal parts of contrasting individuality. There is no lack of passionate or tender emotional scenes, of great ensemble numbers, or of scenic display; nor does the lyric element unduly predominate, but in Schumann's mode of treatment even the dramatic speech assumes a lyric character, and with all the variety of moods, all the great single effects and the large number of beautiful music pieces (prayer, hunting song, love duet, etc.), one does not feel able to retain a hearty, active interest till the end of the last act. Instead of an impressive picture of human passions, sufferings and joys, we have only a musical illustration of an old story which we liked to read in childhood. Schumann entertained a very high opinion of his work, saying that it did not contain one bar of undramatic music. He erred, but nevertheless "Genoveva" remains a most interesting attempt of one of our greatest masters to solve the operatic problem, an attempt noble in its sincerity, rich in musical beauty and fine psychological detail, bright in color, yet of more of the style of oil-painting than the al fresco required by the stage. Long after the unsuccessful performances in Leipsic the opera has been revived in many German cities, still finding to-day a limited, but highly interested audience of those who love its author from his immortal masterworks in other fields. At least the magnificent overture will perpetuate its memory as a favorite concert number all over the world.

Thus Schumann has cultivated every field of his art, not with equal success, but always with sincere earnestness of purpose and a noble ambition to widen its domain, and to refine its mode of expression. How original was he in its treatment of melody, rhythm, harmony, instrumentation, and of the relation of music to poetry, in the combination of old forms with a new spirit and in his endeavors to find new forms. Closely connected in spirit and form with Bach, Beethoven and Schubert, he was himself so rich and original that he became a great influence upon younger representatives of his art, even on the other side of the Rhine and the British channel, though less so in southern countries. Some younger composers were particularly successful as his followers in some special field, while others showed his great influence in the shaping or coloring of many of their best known and otherwise most original productions. His music will be forever an inexhaustible source of pure enjoyment for earnest music lovers, and of the most valuable studies for young aspiring composers of any nationality.

There was however another means by which Schumann exercised a far-reaching influence, namely, his literary and critical work. His writings, collected by himself and published in two volumes, belong among the most instructive and enjoyable books on music. Yet one must not forget the time when they were written. Since then we have become accustomed to many new ideas and names, while many once prominent men and once famous compositions are already forgotten. Still, even if many articles of Schumann are interesting more in a historical sense, we cannot help being impressed everywhere by his pure, noble, enthusiastic spirit, his high opinion of the dignity of art, his extensive knowledge of a general character, and by his fine taste and clear judgment. He was as far from cold scientific theories as from mystic philosophical comprehensions. He was fond of an epigrammatic style, abounding in exclamations and beautiful poetic pictures. Indeed there is undeniably a similarity of style between his earlier writings and compositions.

Schumann's aim was to promote all high interests of art, a better knowledge of old masters, a loving appreciation of any merits of contemporaneous composers and the preparation of new fields for coming talents. How happy is he, when permitted to praise enthusiastically! how rare his ability, to so describe the beauty of a composition that we become really acquainted with its form and spirit! Yet he is not always enthusiastic, but sometimes quietly instructive, sarcastic and witty, or passionately angry, as in his one-sided, yet comprehensible attacks on Meyerbeer, Italian opera, or light piano music after the fashion of Herz. But it shows a generous and noble character that he, a rare productive genius, found almost his greatest pleasure in discovering new talents; that even after many years' retirement from all journalistic work, he once more raised his enthusiastic, prophetic voice to introduce Brahms to the musical world! Nor was he narrow-minded regarding nationality; no Pole could ever write of Chopin with more enthusiasm, no Frenchman of Berlioz with a keener appreciation than Schumann did, and how heartily did he welcome Gade the Dane, Bennett the Englishman, Verhulst the Hollander! He calls art a fugue, in which all the civilized nations participate alternately. His articles also abound in most remarkable statements of a general nature. Of a true work of art he demands a spiritual meaning and a form corresponding to the composer's individuality. "Music impels nightingales to utter love-songs, pug-dogs to yelp." "An equipped eye sees stars where others only clouds and shadows." "The critic must hasten past those who are sinking and fight for the men of the future." He ridicules those who "on a ladder try to measure a colossus like Beethoven with yard-sticks in their hands." In his reviews on new publications he confined himself to instrumental music, with a few exceptions. The famous article on Schubert's symphony in C has hardly more lasting value than the one on Berlioz, with the many significant remarks on the power of orchestral instruments for expression and description. But his many high praises of Mendelssohn honor him most. When once told that Mendelssohn was not true to him, he refused to believe it and always kept his memory as sacred as that of Schubert. Yet in speaking of their mutual relations Schumann confessed that he could learn much from Mendelssohn, but Mendelssohn could also learn something from him, and that, if he had been brought up in the same happy circumstances as his contemporaries, he would surpass them one and all. In Dresden Schumann kept a little theatre journal, in which he wrote short notes on old and new pieces; interesting remarks just like those in "Meister Raro's, Florestan's and Eusebius' Denk- und Dichtbüchlein" or the well known "Rules for young people."

ROBERT AND CLARA SCHUMANN.