Max Reger (born 1873) is a sharp contrast to Strauss. People have seen fit to describe him as a schoolmaster. This is justified in that Reger is one of the most eminent technical musicians in Germany and a master of strict fugue and counterpoint in the modern idiom equalled by no one else in the world. His cast of mind seems to be all with the classics, though he is radical enough in his musical style when he chooses to be. He writes largely in the ‘absolute’ forms and seeks none of the means for effect that are so generally cultivated nowadays. In these respects he may be a ‘schoolmaster.’ But beneath the austerity of his style there is a wonderful fund of ideas and along with it a deftness in using them that makes his technique available for many very different sorts of music. In his songs Reger shows a wide variety. The fact which proves that he is musician and not schoolmaster is that the songs requiring fancy, deftness, sense of style are quite as fine as the others. He always considers well what he writes. By some his songs may not be considered lyrical as Schubert’s are, but his vocal music is truly music that can be sung and its effectiveness on the platform is likely to outstrip expectations. The songs have much beauty of melody, much suavity and charm, and especially a nice adaptation to the spirit of the text. They contain in rich quantity the gift of humor. In downright lively fun Reger reminds one of Chabrier. The songs are all very human. The first feeling one has in studying them is respect for the man’s musicianship. But his technical learning is so unfailing that this quality becomes a bore and one becomes conscious of the genuineness of the feeling and the accuracy of expression. Reger’s superb technique has not used him; he has used it. We may consider it likely that Reger’s reputation will grow considerably in years to come. The songs in particular should be more widely known and loved. They will not tickle lazy ears, but they will give a rare delight to discriminating ones. Certainly there are few men working now who are on the whole more admirable in their songs than Reger.
Reger’s technical style marks most of his songs. But underneath they have a distinct individuality. The Folk-Song in opus 37 is managed with great simplicity and taste. ‘The Dying Child,’ from opus 23, exemplifies Reger’s free but well considered harmonic method. ‘Of Kissing,’ from the same group, shows us another Reger, as dainty and popular as Brahms in lighter mood. Traum durch die Dämmerung, from opus 35, has a wonderful accompaniment of half-suggested interweaving voices and is considered superior to Strauss’s setting of the same poem. The long-drawn melodies (in both the piano and the voice part) of ‘Love-Longings’ show us still another Reger, a master of restrained sensuous effect. The Lullaby of opus 43 is fitted out with a very complex accompaniment but retains a luscious and quiet effect from sheer power of musicianship. Two of Reger’s best songs are ‘I Believe, Dear Love’ and the ‘Prayer,’ from opus 62. The former is a charming scherzo movement and the latter illustrates the tendency, increasing in song accompaniments for half a century, to spread the piano part over an extremely wide range of notes. ‘The Willow Tree’ of opus 48 is a study in a style common to the French song writers, that of gaining emotional effect from the mere juxtaposition of chords.
The Schlichte Weisen of opus 76 are perhaps Reger’s most typical and most highly developed product in this field. These ‘simple tunes’ are not at all simple in point of technique, making use of all the virtuosity and finesse of his wonderful musical equipment. The songs are nearly all in lighter vein and most of them are brightened with a delicious humor. They alone would place Reger among the most notable of musical humorists. None but the trained musician can appreciate all the technical genius that went into the writing of these songs. But any music-lover, any concert audience, in fact, can appreciate their beauty and sprightly charm. The thirty-six songs maintain a remarkably high level of creative musicianship, and in point of variety and taste they are almost unsurpassed. Nearly all of them are worth knowing, but we may mention a few among the best. ‘In a Little Rose Garden’ is written in imitation of the old German Lied. ‘The Child’s Prayer’ is utterly delightful in its simplicity. The ‘Dialogue’ is inimitable in humorous description. In ‘The Oath’ and ‘Concerning Love’ the humor is irresistible, and in ‘God’s Blessing’ musical learning has been put to the service of delicate delineation of mood.
III
Arnold Schönberg (born 1874) has gained a place for himself in Vienna as the foremost spokesman of the ultra-radical school of German music. At the present time he is gradually coming to similar recognition in other countries. His musical manner is so utterly foreign to anything else we are familiar with that men believed for a long time (and quite excusably) that he was a mere charlatan, one who, failing to gain recognition by legitimate means, had resorted to the methods of the sideshow. That such a view is not tenable is shown by the recent course of events. In his earlier music he showed a fairly conservative style, based chiefly on Strauss, and used in a manner nothing short of masterful. Much of this early music has not been heard until recently, because of its astounding proportions. But it was ambition and not incompetence that kept Schönberg from prompt recognition. His development into the new style was steady. It could not possibly have been achieved without a very large fund of musical learning. The later scores show a contrapuntal ability which is astounding. The style, in the later works, is quite without parallel. Harmony is dropped altogether. Next to nothing remains of the system of Bach and Beethoven. On the other hand, the complexity of the contrapuntal web surpasses anything we have ever seen. The man’s whole effort seems to be toward exuberant, overpowering counterpoint, a mass of separate voices mingled in delirious profusion, with inversions and augmentations and diminutions that make the brain dizzy. Judged by ears that have anything of the old-fashioned left in them this music cannot be beautiful. But Schönberg’s appeal is to a different faculty, and only time can determine whether the appeal is justified. Schönberg explains that he is not trying to write emotional music, or descriptive music, or music with any sort of a meaning—but just pure music. If this be music, there are some definitions yet to be altered.
His songs, however, so far as they are yet catalogued, do not belong to this last period. The numerous songs of opera 1, 2, and 3 are of the first period, in which the style of Strauss was pretty closely adhered to. The ‘Eight Songs’ of opus 6 and the ‘Six Orchestral Songs’ of opus 8 are the product of the second period, the transition time in which the new Schönberg style was fairly well developed, but was used with frequent admixtures of the old. In the work of this period the hearer has a breathing space and can feel at first hearing that the music has something in it after all. However, second period or not, the two groups of songs we have mentioned will be quite mystifying to the average student. They are all very long and extremely difficult to sing. For that reason they are by no means available for ordinary concert use. They can be sung only by the highly capable singer and listened to only by an audience with highly trained ears. Perhaps, even under these conditions the listener will conclude they are not worth the trouble. But the one virtue which we can predicate of Schönberg without fear of contradiction is ability, and this virtue stands out strongly in the songs. We may mention from opus 6 the ‘Maiden’s Songs,’ which attains a sense of immense physical violence. ‘Forsaken’ maintains its mood by a remarkably powerful use of a constantly repeated chromatic figure in the bass. But the best of these songs, and probably the greatest Schönberg has written, is ‘The Wanderer,’ words by Nietzsche. The other songs may be chaotic, but this has a cogent form. Moreover, it has definite melody and an accompaniment manipulated with a strong sense of design. The song as a whole is eloquent and impressive.
The Six Orchestral Songs are also arranged for piano accompaniment and may be sung in concert. They are rather scenes than songs, being very long and composite and generally descriptive or dramatic, rather than lyrical. In them the technical element is all powerful. Voll jener Süsse, words from Petrarch, is a masterful study in the free movement of contrapuntal voices treated as in close harmony. Das Wappenschild is a magnificent song of action. The basic theme is stirring, the melody is marked and impressive, and the general structure is clear and cogent. The song exemplifies Schönberg’s genius for making his counterpoint seem to express tremendous power of will. Sehnsucht is a comparatively simple song, the best of the six for the student to begin on. Nie ward ich, Herrin, müd is a magnificent study in powerful counterpoint. The tempo is slow, the themes are drawn out and sustained as though played slowly by a ’cello. The piece is extremely difficult to sustain at this slow tempo and is a tax on the listener’s attention beyond anything of the sort that can be called to mind, but if one can feel its beauty at all one must be impressed by the majesty of the thing.
Another modern song writer whose work centres chiefly in Vienna is Joseph Marx, who has been prolific and successful. His style has many elements of the modern, but on the whole it is clear and intelligible and does not require a new set of ears for its appreciation. Marx’s songs are often fresh and spontaneous and his sense of proportion is keen. Another of Schönberg’s contemporaries is Franz Schrecker, whose work is likewise representative of the most advanced tendencies of the new Viennese school. This school is rather left behind by one of Schönberg’s pupils, Anton von Webern, whose strange song, ‘Over the Borders of the All,’ is incapable of description in any terms hitherto used in connection with music. Which men of such a group will prove valuable to posterity is not to be decided at first investigation. But it will be well worth anyone’s while to maintain an open mind and regard an innovator as innocent until he has proved himself guilty.
CHAPTER XIV
MODERN FRENCH LYRICISM
Fauré and the beginning of the new—Chabrier, César Franck, and others—Bruneau, Vidal, and Charpentier—Debussy and Ravel.