Balance of tone has the same meaning in performance as it has in orchestration. It is equality of dynamic force among the constituent parts of the band. As already said, it is the result partly of good orchestration and partly of the guiding skill of the conductor; but it depends also in a measure upon the constitution of the orchestra. The average theatre orchestra is an eloquent demonstration of the bad effects of poor balance among the instruments. The desperate struggles of two first violins, one second, one viola, one ’cello, and one double-bass to produce sufficient sound to make themselves heard in forte passages against the sonorous pealing of a cornet, a trombone, and a pair of tympani, are as vain as they are ridiculous. Such efforts are repeated on a larger scale when modern symphonic music is performed by an orchestra whose strings are led by six first violins. It is not possible for six firsts, six seconds, four violas, three ’cellos, and three double-basses to maintain a proper balance of tone against two or three flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, a tuba, and tympani. An orchestra with six first violins should not attempt music orchestrated in the romantic style. It would be much better for such an orchestra to omit two horns and add two violins, and confine itself to music suitable to such an array of instruments. When there are only six first violins it is not wise to attempt works which call for divisions of those six into four parts. It is always absurd to hear an orchestra with three ’cellos trying to “fake” the opening measures of Rossini’s “William Tell” overture, and in the tutti the trombone rages like a lion. It is generally conceded in this country that a concert orchestra requires about 60 stringed instruments to give a proper balance to the wood and brass. I have already spoken of the constitution of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, which has 58 strings on a basis of 16 first violins. The Chicago Orchestra has 61, and the New York Philharmonic Society, 78. The London Philharmonic has 54, the Vienna Philharmonic, 68, and the Paris Conservatoire, 60.
Given a proper array of instruments, the preservation of balance of tone is due chiefly to the conductor, though it is also necessary that the players should not be troubled with individual ambition. The occasional solo affords the individual player an opportunity to display his powers, but at all other times he should be content to sacrifice his glory for the general result. A good orchestra is in this respect like a perfect boat-crew; every man in it should be part of a machine to produce a single effect. Whenever one man in a boat-crew is seized with a notion that he can pull the whole boat himself, the crew goes to pieces and loses the race. So in an orchestra, if the second trombonist, for example, is convinced that the audience ought to hear his part, he destroys the balance of the performance and oversets the composer’s purpose. Of course, a conductor must do all he can to see that the ambitious second trombonist does not mis-behave, but it requires a real esprit de corps in an orchestra to maintain an ideal balance of tone. Brass is blatant in forte passages if allowed to have its own way, and wood, unrestrained, is frequently too strong in moderato or piano bits.
CHARLES LAMOUREUX.
Plenty of strings is the only remedy for a bad balance which careful playing will not correct, and a plenty of strings is to be found only in large concert orchestras. Even in opera-houses the strings are often too few, while in theatres they nearly always are. The average theatrical manager knows very little about music and cares less. A business manager who knew something of the tone art was once engaged by a manager who controlled a travelling exhibition of “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” with all Mendelssohn’s music. He thought his exhibition worthy of the attention of the metropolis, but the business manager said to him:
“If we go into New York, we’ll have to increase the orchestra.”
“What for?” replied the manager. “We have all sorts of instruments now, haven’t we?”
“But we ought to have more first violins.”
“What! more than two?”
But, after all, the theatre is hardly the place to look for art in music. The concert-hall and the opera-house are its homes, but owing to the conditions which surround the performance of opera in most places, only the concert orchestra can be expected to show the highest possibilities of performance. In such an orchestra we may expect to find a proper distribution of instruments, and having that, we should demand a perfect solidity and balance of tone. I can hardly put too much emphasis on the necessity of good tone. Although the mere quality of sound belongs to the lowest department of musical excellence, the sensuous, it is nevertheless an instrument of the greatest power in the presentation of musical thought. There is something vital in a noble tone, something enthralling and inspiring. One recognizes it immediately when it is the voice of a distinguished singer, and I have seen audiences moved to amazing enthusiasm by a glorious voice which had neither dramatic intelligence nor vocal cunning to aid the potent spell of its pure quality. An orchestra should be a mighty singer in every sense, and it must have the first requisite of one—a fine voice. There should be nothing cheap or vulgar in its tone. It should be one grand flow of gorgeous, all-surrounding sound, smooth, sweet, mellow, and pure, whether heard in the aërial whisper of the last bars of the “Lohengrin” prelude or the thunderous peal of the “Kaisermarsch.”