The German folk-songs, because they are the best known of all, will here be treated briefly. They have, as we shall so often have occasion to point out, that faculty of concentrating intense and elevated emotion in a simple phrase of a few notes. The great progressions that ring in Bach, the great cadences which thunder forth in the Lutheran chorale—these we feel in all German popular song. The number of these songs is as the sands of the sea. The emotional range is almost that of the human heart itself. The melodic organization is much more complex than in the case of the Italian songs. Sometimes it becomes even austere. But, on the whole, no nation has songs which go so straight to the heart. They are not remarkable for rhythm nor in general for the lighter qualities prized by the French and the north Italians. Their character is, rather, homely and intimate. Some of them reflect the vigorous and rather rough spirits of German youth. More reflect the exaggerated sentimentality of German middle age. Yet this sentimentality, while it is introspective, is never morbid. It is founded deep in the heart of a magnificently healthy people and is no more than the honest expression of a passing mood. From the time of the Minnesingers and their charmingly graceful ditties the idealism of the German people has been revealed in their singing. Frequently this takes on a religious tinge, so that the Lutheran church could adopt true folk-tunes for its hymns without incongruity. Often the spirit of quite secular songs is essentially religious, as in that magnificent song of Silcher’s—
‘Aennchen von Tharau, mein Reichthum, mein Gut,
Du bist mein Leben, mein Fleisch und mein Blut.’
Certainly these songs of Germany can, of all folk-songs, least bear any insincerity or affectation. They seem to be a touchstone for determining genuineness of soul—that quality which the Germans call Echtheit. They, above all other songs, demand soundness of musicianship and honesty of method.
Unwillingly leaving these songs with these few remarks, we turn to the Scandinavian countries, which are closely allied to Germany in their folk-music, yet show a definite though subtle individuality. The Danish songs retain the sincerity of the German, but add, perhaps, a little more lightness of touch, a little more feeling for delicacy of design. Their relation with the songs of the northern Scandinavian countries is tenuous but it can be noticed after a little study. The songs of Sweden are much more individual, though they can hardly be said to surpass the German in any particular. Most popular among them are the famous ‘Neck Polka,’ the spirited ‘Marching Song,’ and the old ballad, ‘Little Karen,’ the last a melody wonderful in its combination of literal musical statement with subtle artistic grace. Norway, most distant of the three countries, has quite naturally shown itself most individual in its folk-music. It is the individuality which many critics have found in the music of Grieg. It bears an air of mystery; one hardly knows whether of the past or of the future. It suggests at times the downrightness of the old Vikings, and at others the ‘atmospheric’ quality of the modern composers. However one may feel about this, it is certain that the spirit is healthy and stimulating. For variety and interest the folk-music of Norway can rank among the best.
V
The folk-music of the Hungarians has been made universally popular through the Hungarian Rhapsodies of Liszt, who was one of the first to perceive its high artistic possibilities. It has been generally supposed that this folk-music was invented by the Gypsies, who have always been regarded as the Hungarian musicians par excellence. Liszt regarded it so. Competent investigators agree that the melodies themselves are the product of the Hungarian people and that the ornaments and stylistic qualities alone have been added by the Gypsies, who, according to this view, are incapable of true invention. It is at least certain that the Gypsies are the representative musicians of Hungary to-day and have wholly stamped Hungarian folk-music with their individuality. It has been said that Hungary has no vocal folk-music—no folk-song at all. This, of course, is true only in a limited sense. But it is certainly true that all the music has a predominantly instrumental character and that the greater portion of it is possible only on instruments. The Gypsies themselves, though usually without formal musical education, are frequently marvellous masters of the violin in their own way. Their love for long and meaningless decoration is famous. No tune enters their keeping that does not emerge covered from beginning to end with trills, shakes, slides, turns, scales, and cadenzas. The rubato instinct among them is very strong. At the same time the rhythmical and dance instinct is almost unsurpassed. And, as anyone familiar with the Rhapsodies well knows, these three qualities—namely the instrumental, the decorative and the rhythmic—have stamped themselves indelibly on all Hungarian folk-music. The Gypsies tend to mutilate a tune past recognition by their wanton decoration. But when they are able to keep their instinct in control they leave the melody glittering with decorative richness but firm and vigorous in outline.
The chief external characteristic of the Hungarian melodies,—their accented grace-note (a feature scarcely to be found in any other folk-music the world over, except to a smaller degree in the Scotch)—is said to come from the character of the Hungarian language, which is inclined to heavily accented first syllables. A more probable explanation would be that it comes from the nature of the violin, on which most of these melodies were doubtless composed. For in the case of a short grace-note, the violinist’s bow has hardly time to take a new stroke between the grace-note and the chief note; hence both are taken on one stroke, and as the beginning of the stroke is the natural place for the accent the grace-note, however short, tends to take on all the accent of a true first note of the rhythmic measure. Yet such abstract discussion is empty in the face of the melodies themselves. Many of these are songs and excellent ones—whether composed for the words originally or fitted out with words later makes little difference. And many of them are distinctly singable, though they demand a robust vocal mechanism such as few parlor-trained singers possess. But whether sung or not they are all glorified dances. The rubato may be elaborate, but the feeling of rhythm is always present. Many of the songs preserve the form of the national dance, the Czardas, beginning with a slow Lassan and ending with the violent Friska, as in the Hungarian Rhapsodies. There may be pauses and cadenzas between the two, there may be pauses and long ritardandos in the body of the dance itself (as frequently in the well-known Brahms arrangements of Hungarian dances), but the firm rhythmic sense is always there.
The beauty of the Hungarian melodies, merely as melodies, is unsurpassed. The great melody which Liszt used in the Fourteenth Hungarian Rhapsody, and which has since come to be used as the national song, to the fine words which in the German version commence Wenn dem Ungarvolke Gott viel Leiden gab—this has become a true folk-song by adoption, though it is not one in origin. No country ever had a more glorious hymn for its national praise. Several dance-tunes given by Reimann[9] are of the highest quality—especially Zigeunermusik, Der Seele Spiegel, and Drunten im Tale, and Erwartung, the last being a melody which served Brahms for one of his ‘Hungarian Dances.’ Another matchless tune is one translated by Reimann as In Grosswardein. Here we see used to full value (in a melody of great simplicity) several of the most distinctive qualities of the Hungarian music, namely the accented grace note, the peculiar minor scale having a flatted sixth and a raised seventh, and always emphasizing the skip between, and the conventional phrase structure, which always repeats the first phrase, note for note, in the dominant. Indeed, no songs are better worth study for their clear and solid architecture. Francis Alexander Korbay (born, Pesth, 1848; died, 1914) was one of the chief enthusiasts for the Hungarian folk-song and has helped by his collections and editions to spread the love of them. His arrangements are sometimes elaborate and often not true to the spirit of the original, but they sufficiently preserve the national spirit to foreign ears. And it has always been true that folk-music must first go through a stage of adaptation and arrangement before people are willing to listen to it in its purity. Of the Korbay songs at least one fine example, ‘Had a Horse,’ has become familiar in American concert halls.
VI
The Russian folk-songs, as rich in variety and intensity as those of any country on earth, present more preliminary difficulties to the foreign music-lover than any others. As in most other countries, the real appreciation of folk-music in Russia is a matter of the last half century. The Russian songs which were best known before then bore the same relation to the genuine article that the popular English songs of the eighteenth century bore to the Somerset songs of which we have spoken—that is, they were rather civilized, perhaps consciously composed, and contained far more of the conventional than of the national. Such a song is ‘The Red Sarafan,’ a fine melody, but far removed from the genuine peasant folk-song. Glinka, founder of the modern Russian school of composition, recognized the distinctive qualities of the Russian popular music, and introduced some of its effects very tentatively into his operas and songs. Rubinstein hazarded the statement that the Russian folk-song was more varied and profound than that of any other land. But Rubinstein, being all German in his training, did not follow the obvious moral. It remained for the great group of ‘neo-Russian’ composers, under the inspiring leadership of Balakireff, to make the Russian folk-song the source and standard of Russian composition. Several of this group made researches among folk-songs or collections of them and studied them in what we have called the modern spirit, which is equally scientific, scholarly, and artistic. More recently the Russian government has spent considerable sums on scientific investigation among the peasants, and the results of these researches, especially in the great work of Mme. Lineva, have served as a standard in folk-research the world over. The earlier collections of Balakireff, Rimsky-Korsakoff, and others, though as yet untranslated, are sources of deep delight for the student who will take a little trouble among dusty libraries.