Although Hugo Wolf’s biography is a column and a half in length, Konradin Kreutzer gets only eighteen lines; Nicolai, who wrote The Merry Wives of Windsor, only ten lines; Suppé, only fifteen; Nessler, only twelve; Franz Abt, only ten; Henselt, only twenty-six; Heller, only twenty-two; Lortzing, only twenty; and Thalberg, only twenty-eight. In order to realize how much prejudice, either conscious or unconscious, entered into these biographies, compare the amounts of space with those given to the English composers above mentioned. Even Raff receives a shorter biography than Mackenzie; and von Bülow’s and Goldmark’s biographies are briefer than Cowen’s.
But where the Encyclopædia Britannica shows its utter inadequacy as a guide to modern music is in the long list of omission. For instance, there is no biography of Marschner, whose Hans Heiling still survives in Germany; of Friedrich Silcher, who wrote most of the famous German “folk-songs”; of Gustav Mahler, one of the truly important symphonists of modern times; of the Scharwenka brothers; or of Georg Alfred Schumann—all sufficiently important to have a place in an encyclopædia like the Britannica.
But—what is even more inexcusable—Max Reger, one of the most famous German composers of the day, has no biography. Nor has Eugen d’Albert, renowned for both his chamber music and operas. (D’Albert repudiated his English antecedents and settled in Germany.) Kreisler also is omitted, although Kubelik, five years Kreisler’s junior, draws a biography. In view of the obvious contempt which the Encyclopædia Britannica has for America, it may be noted in this connection that Kreisler’s first great success was achieved in America, whereas Kubelik made his success in London before coming to this country.
Among the German and Austrian composers who are without biographical mention in the Britannica, are several of the most significant musical creators of modern times—men who are world figures and whose music is known on every concert stage in the civilized world. On what possible grounds are Mahler, Reger and Eugen d’Albert denied biographies in an encyclopædia which dares advertise itself as a “complete library of knowledge” and as an “international dictionary of biography”? And how is it possible for one to get any adequate idea of the wealth or importance of modern German music from so biased and incomplete a source? Would the Encyclopædia’s editors dare state that such a subject would not appeal to “intelligent” persons? And how will the Encyclopædia’s editors explain away the omission of Hanslick, the most influential musical critic that ever lived, when liberal biographies are given to several English critics?
Despite the incomplete and unjust treatment accorded German and Austrian music in the Encyclopædia Britannica, modern French music receives scarcely better consideration. Chopin is given space only equal to that of Purcell. Berlioz and Gounod, who are allotted longer biographies than any other modern French composers, receive, nevertheless, considerably less space than Sir Arthur Sullivan. Saint-Saëns and Debussy receive less than half the space given to Sullivan, while Auber and César Franck are given only about equal space with Samuel Arnold, Balfe, Sterndale Bennett, and Charles Stanford! Massenet has less space than William Thomas Best or Joseph Barnby, and three-fourths of it is taken up with a list of his works. The remainder of the biographies are proportionately brief. There is not one of them of such length that you cannot find several longer biographies of much less important English composers.
Furthermore, one finds unexplainable errors and omissions in them. For instance, although Ernest Reyer died January 15, 1909, there is no mention of it in his biography; but there is, however, the statement that his Quarante Ans de Musique “was published in 1909.” This careless oversight in not noting Reyer’s death while at the same time recording a still later biographical fact is without any excuse, especially as the death of Dudley Buck, who died much later than Reyer, is included. Furthermore, the biography omits stating that Reyer became Inspector General of the Paris Conservatoire in 1908. Nor is his full name given, nor the fact recorded that his correct name was Rey.
Again, although Théodore Dubois relinquished his Directorship of the Conservatory in 1905, his biography in the Britannica merely mentions that he began his Directorship in 1896, showing that apparently no effort was made to complete the material. Still again, although Fauré was made Director of the Conservatory in 1905, the fact is not set down in his biography. And once more, although d’Indy visited America in 1905 and conducted the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the fact is omitted from his biography.... These are only a few of the many indications to be found throughout the Britannica that this encyclopædia is untrustworthy and that its editors have not, as they claim, taken pains to bring it up to date.
Among the important French composers who should have biographies, but who are omitted from the Encyclopædia Britannica, are Guilmant, perhaps the greatest modern organist and an important classico-modern composer; Charpentier, who with Puccini, stands at the head of the modern realistic opera, and whose Louise is to-day in every standard operatic repertoire; and Ravel, the elaborate harmonist of the moderns.
Even greater inadequacy—an inadequacy which could not be reconciled with an encyclopædia one-fourth the size of the Britannica—exists in the treatment of modern Russian music. So brief, so inept, so negligent is the material on this subject that, as a reference book, the Britannica is practically worthless. The most charitable way of explaining this woeful deficiency is to attribute it to wanton carelessness. Anton Rubinstein, for instance, is given a biography about equal with Balfe and Charles Stanford; while his brother Nikolaus, one of the greatest pianists and music teachers of his day, and the founder of the Conservatorium of Music at Moscow, has no biography whatever! Glinka, one of the greatest of Russian composers and the founder of a new school of music, is dismissed with a biography no longer than those of John Braham, the English singer, John Hatton, the Liverpool genius with the “irresistible animal spirits,” and William Jackson; and shorter than that of Charles Dibdin, the British song-writer!
Tschaikowsky receives less than two columns, a little over half the space given to Sullivan. The criticism of his work is brief and inadequate, and in it there is no mention of his liberal use of folk-songs which form the basis of so many of his important compositions, such as the second movement of his Fourth and the first movement of his First Symphonies. Borodin, another of the important musical leaders of modern Russia, has a biography which is no longer than that of Frederic Clay, the English light-opera writer and whist expert; and which is considerably shorter than the biography of Alfred Cellier. Balakirev, the leader of the “New Russian” school, has even a shorter biography, shorter in fact than the biography of Henry Hugo Pierson, the weak English oratorio writer.