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[CONTENTS]
[APPENDIX OF MUSICAL ILLUSTRATIONS]
The Evolution
OF
Modern Orchestration
BY
LOUIS ADOLPHE COERNE, Ph.D.
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1908
All rights reserved
Copyright, 1908,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Set up and electrotyped. Published September 1908
Stanhope Press
F.H. GILSON COMPANY
BOSTON, U.S.A.
[CONTENTS]
[PART I.—PRELIMINARIES.]
[PART II.—THE CLASSIC ERA.]
[PART III.—ROMANTICISM.]
[PREFACE]
It is not the purpose of this work to write a treatise on instrumentation or to prepare a pedagogical analysis of orchestration only, but rather to trace the evolution of the orchestra and of orchestration in connection with the history of music proper. Special emphasis will be laid upon what may be termed the IMPELLING FORCES to which the development of orchestration is due. This necessitates a considerable repetition of familiar facts that do not lend themselves to further original treatment. The restatement of such facts, however, would seem to form an indispensable background for the main theme, which is thereby exposed with all its attending phases of logical evolution.
In addition to extended studies of orchestral scores themselves, the standard works of Berlioz, Gevaërt, Riemann, Parry, and others have, as a matter of course, been referred to. The subject under discussion has already been admirably handled by Lavoix in his voluminous work entitled "Histoire de L'Instrumentation," but it was unquestionably done through French glasses, and the scores of not one German romanticist are submitted to careful analysis beyond those of Weber and Wagner. "Parsifal" had not been produced at the time when Lavoix's book went to press, nor had such representative composers as Brahms, Saint-Saëns, Tschaikowsky, Dvořák then won their full meed of recognition. It is obvious, therefore, that the orchestration especially of the nineteenth century offers a fertile field for further profitable research. Again, the present writer is not aware of the existence of any comprehensive work in the English language upon the history of the orchestra and of orchestration.
Throughout these pages the achievements of the more prominent composers are set forth in such manner as to indicate not only the distinctive features of their orchestration but of their general creative ability as well. In each case, the general style of composition and its significance as a contribution to musical literature are first enlarged upon. This is followed by an examination of the differentiated treatment of the strings, the wood, the brass, presented in logical sequence. A final analysis is then made of the individual method of orchestration as a whole, together with its relative value in the evolution of orchestration.
In the [Appendix] to this book will be found a few musical illustrations selected from representative orchestral scores.
LOUIS ADOLPHE COERNE.
Cambridge, Massachusetts, U.S.A.
April 30, 1905.
[INTRODUCTORY NOTE]
It was inevitable that in an age marked like the present by specialization in all the arts and in all branches of learning as well, the need would one day be felt of a history of orchestration. In attempting to supply it with this book Dr. Coerne has filled a want in English musical literature. Of treatises devoted to the art of writing for the orchestra there is no lack. Berlioz, the greatest master of the art before Wagner, wrote such a treatise, which while it was still looked upon as in many respects a model, was revised and brought down to date by Richard Strauss; but invaluable as this treatise is and as are the more voluminous treatises of the Belgian Gevaërt, the German Hofmann and the Englishman Prout, they are after all study-books for the creative musician, and only by laborious comparison of their illustrative examples, or the scores of composers, can the historical inquirer learn aught of the evolution of the art to which they are devoted. Even then his view is restricted, practically, to the music composed since the closing decades of the eighteenth century. The explanation of this fact is that while the art of music is always spoken of as young in the handbooks, that of orchestration is much younger. The student of orchestration, say the teachers, can derive little benefit from a study of scores older than those of Haydn and Mozart because some of the instruments of their predecessors are obsolete and so is their manner of writing for the instruments still in use. This, however, brings small comfort to the historical investigator who is quite as desirous to know what the orchestra was like prior to Haydn and Mozart, and the Mannheim symphonists, as he is to learn the steps by which it reached its present marvellous efficiency. It is the help which it extends in this direction which makes the "Histoire de L'Instrumentation" of M. Lavoix, to which our author acknowledges indebtedness, valuable; but that work is accessible only to students who have knowledge of the French language.
Moreover, there are interesting signs of a return to some of the orchestral instruments which had fallen into disuse when the modern art of orchestration came into existence. It is not only a pious regard and reverence for Bach and Händel, especially the former, which is prompting conductors when performing their works to restore instruments to the orchestra which were considered hopelessly obsolete only a few decades ago, but also a growing appreciation of the fact that modern substitutes for them have largely failed of their mission. Two facts of large importance confront the careful observer of musical phenomena to-day: the art of composition has reached that degree of technical perfection, or high virtuoso-ship which in the history of all the arts introduces a decay of true creativeness. We have, therefore, on the one hand excessive admiration for technique per se, and on the other a growing reaction towards old ideals. Of this latter fact I thought I saw significant evidences in 1900 when as a member of the International Jury at the Paris Exposition new specimens of a considerable number of archaic musical instruments came into my hands for examination, among them a bass flute for the return of which Mr. Frederick Corder expresses an ardent longing in his admirable essay on Instrumentation in the new edition of Grove's "Dictionary of Music and Musicians." Since then, too, we have heard the harpsichord in our concert-rooms, seen the oboe d'amore adopted by Richard Strauss, the alto flute by Felix Weingartner, and observed the establishment in America as well as Europe of orchestral and chamber concerts in which music of the seventeenth and earlier centuries is played upon instruments for which it was written. We shall in all likelihood some day have to extend our treatises on orchestration to include some of the instruments now considered obsolete, and be grateful for all references to them in historical works like the present one.
Dr. Coerne, the author of this book, is an American composer born in Newark, N.J., who has achieved the distinction of having an opera of his writing performed in a European opera-house. His "Zenobia" was brought forward in Bremen on December 1, 1905. It was the first instance of the performance in Europe of a grand opera composed by a native of the United States. The score of this opera and the subject-matter of this book were accepted as a thesis by Harvard University which conferred the degree of Ph.D. on the author in June, 1905. It was the first time that the university bestowed the degree for special work in music.
H.E. KREHBIEL.
New York, April, 1908.
THE EVOLUTION OF
MODERN ORCHESTRATION
[PART I.—PRELIMINARIES.]
[CHAPTER I.]
THE CRADLE OF INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. (Historical Review.)
I.
Primitive men were no doubt impelled to give utterance to their feelings by a desire for awakening sympathetic response in their fellow beings. Vocal manifestation of feeling developed into incipient melody, hence rudimentary scales. Gestures of dancing suggested rhythm. A fusion of both melody and rhythm led to contrast, and contrast implies symmetry of design. To emphasize rhythm combined with euphony, musical instruments were needed. Relics of certain species of these instruments are analogous to subsequent species of civilized nations.
Another source whence music can be traced is in the religious rites of the pagans.
Ancient history reveals diversified and wide-spread musical activity. The oldest representations of musicians are to be found on Egyptian monuments. Through contact with Oriental nations, Egypt possibly founded her system of intellectual music on extraneous principles. On the other hand, she probably influenced the music of the Hebrews, certainly that of the Greeks. Exemplification of Oriental instrumentalists is seen on Assyrian bas reliefs. One of these, in the possession of the British Museum, represents performers on a drum, a double-pipe, a primitive species of the dulcimer, and seven harps. The preponderance of stringed instruments suggests sensitive appreciation for modulated quality of tone. Constant reference to Hebrew music is, of course, to be found in the Scriptures. The classification of singers for temple worship during the reign of Solomon and of David, and the especial importance attached to song with instrumental accompaniment will at once recur to the mind.
Greece during her ascendency elevated music to a plane of importance only secondary to that of her sister art, poetry, whose handmaiden she became. Indeed, though both vocal and purely instrumental music were practised independently, prominence was bestowed upon the welding together of poetry and music as embodied in the Athenian tragedies. The Greeks possessed but a theoretical knowledge of harmony. Instrumental accompaniment probably duplicated the vocal melody in unison or octave, and may have added some simple harmonic intervals such as the fourth or fifth.
With the disorganization of Greece, music was transplanted to Rome, and, being no longer looked upon as an art, sank into degeneracy. Nevertheless, the fundamental principles governing the science of music as promulgated by the Greek theoreticians were rescued from oblivion by early Roman writers. And these principles, leavened by fragments of melancholy and contemplative strains of Hebraic melody, devolved from the early Christian neophytes, were destined to constitute the rock upon which all subsequent Western ecclesiastical music, even to the present day, has been built.
Review thus far tends to show that the objective of prehistoric and ante-Christian musical thought was primarily the emotional expression of human feeling. The growth of musical art was, moreover, amazingly dilatory as compared with that of the other fine arts.
II.
The next step to record is that of incipient harmonic effects, musical notation, the principles of design. And for centuries the art was now developed exclusively under the beneficent patronage of the Roman Church—persistently along vocal lines. For the Church adolescent discountenanced anything suggestive of pagan worship, or traceable to depraved Roman orgies. Consequently instrumental evolution lay quiescent. This was the age of dreary speculation, of highly ingenious and elaborately scientific artifice. Yet the results were but puerile. For even such rudiments of modern musical grammar as are readily mastered in our day by a mere child, were far beyond the perspective of the early scholastic monks, who arrived at a few tangible results only by the most circuitous methods. Nevertheless progress, though sluggish, is to be traced in logical sequence.
Beginning with the establishment of singing-schools by Pope Sylvester, and the Antiphons and Hymns of Ambrosius in the fourth century, it is but necessary to recall the documents of Boëtius and of Isadore in the sixth century, the reforms of the Gregories in the seventh and eighth, the sequentiae of Notker in the ninth. More specific were the crude attempts at harmony in the ninth and tenth centuries as typified by Hucbald's organum; Guido d'Arezzo's notation in the eleventh; finally the adoption of mensural writing as attributed to Franco de Cologne, thirteenth, and Johannes de Muris, fourteenth century.
Thus under the guardianship of the Church, and upon a basis of what has ever been known as the Gregorian Chant, a decade of centuries had been consumed in learning to perceive and to apply the fundamentals of melody and of harmony, to discover an adequate interpreter, notation, and an accurate though flexible regulator, rhythm.
III.
Meanwhile the Folk-song, already mentioned in its primogenial character, reasserted itself as the annotator of lyric poetry, through the activity of the troubadours from the eleventh to the fourteenth centuries. Of these, the name of Adam de la Hale is, of course, best known. Just as combined Oriental and Greek traditions formed the substructure of the early ecclesiastical modes, so a fusion of the Gregorian Chant and the Folk-song resulted in the establishment of a second, and in this case more distinctly accretive nucleus. This was of incalculable service, primarily to subsequent secular music as a whole, eventually to instrumentation as a side issue. For the soul of the Folk-song finds expression in the melodic. And this natural mode of expressing natural emotion, amplified not alone by the peoples of the Romance nations and of the Teutonic races, but also quite especially by such as were of Celtic origin, infused life, color, and variety into the stiff and formal church style then in vogue. Again, la gaie science required the art of accompaniment; consequently this long-neglected acquirement began to awake from its lethargy. So we find the troubadours accompanying their songs with a variety of instruments such as the crwth, the rebec, the lute, the harp, the viol.
The Folk-song has in the end proved to be the most enduring mode of expressing feeling, representing, as it does, the natural growth of a nation. Influenced by local temperament, climate, history, on every hand its distinctly indigenous characteristics have stood out in peaceful contrast to the eclectic polyphony of coexisting scientific attempts. And, as we know, although the Folk-song was eclipsed for a time by other forms, it was destined to play an important rôle. For its loftiest mission was realized not only in connection with the German Singspiel of the eighteenth century, but also through its application by the great classicists of the same period as contrasting theme for the Sonata-piece.
IV.
Continuing our chronological review, we trace the propagandism of Italian theoretical principles through France into the Netherlands. Here, during the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, polyphonic vocal music was reared on the exalted pedestals of noble Gothic architecture. From Dufay—the connecting link between the French and Flemish Schools—through Ockeghem, Josquin des Près, Willaert, to Lasso, the supremacy of musical composition was conceded to the Low Countries, although simultaneous musical activity in Italy was by no means retrogressional. As for the labors of such men as Dunstable in England and Isaak in Germany, the former was not in the direct line either of technical or of æsthetic evolution, whereas the latter was trained in Italy and wrote in the Flemish style.
The concentrated results of this era consisted of the consecutive development of the technicalities of counterpoint, growing regard for euphony and expressive verbal interpretation, finally, the ascendency of objective emotionalism. Lasso, embodying in his works the highest ideals of polyphonic writing, transplanted them into Germany. Simultaneously, Palestrina, the greatest purist of Italian vocal writing, was at the zenith of his glory. France had produced Goudimel and Claude le Jeune. The music of England was prominently connected with such names as Merbecke, Tallys, Byrd, Morley. The Reformation was exercising a powerful influence upon the art of music in the development of the Chorale.
And thus in the second half of the sixteenth century, this wonderful array of coexisting phases of choral art stood prepared for something greater. Pure choral music had been perfected. The era of instrumental music was at hand. For in spite of the rare æsthetic beauty, the intricate yet lucid voice-leading, the admirable handling of human voices en masse that signalize the works of Palestrina and Lasso, two essential elements, indispensable for further creative expansion, were lacking—rhythm and form. To attain these, new means and methods were necessary. Two possibilities presented themselves: solo singing, and instrumental music. Although both of these combined had been subjected to quasi-scientific experiment since time immemorial, the style of writing for them possessed as yet but little individuality. There was indeed much to be done before a permanent basis for modern tonality and modern instrumentation could be secured. The old modal system was still at the root of both sacred and secular music. Harmony was but the adventitious corollary of counterpoint. Only simple diatonic intervals were in use. Incipient harmony could not inspire men to think rhythmically. Pure church music was monotonous and vague. True, secular music in erudite form was influenced by the Folk-song, and showed some progress in rhythmic and simple harmonic effects. These in turn reacted favorably upon the sacred forms. Nevertheless, any attempt at developing motives as the synthetic germs of a composition was not to be thought of until the following century in connection with instrumental forms.
The pith of the conditions prevalent at the close of the era has been happily stated by Parry when he says: "It is as though the art was still in too nebulous a state for the essential elements to have crystallized into separate and definite entities."
[CHAPTER II.]
THE DAWN OF INDEPENDENT INSTRUMENTATION.
I.
The awakening interest for instrumental music received its incentive from two distinctive sources—the organ, and accompaniment to solo singing. As a natural corollary to centuries of ecclesiastical supremacy in musical composition, the organ had taken first rank among instruments and was, comparatively speaking, the most advanced, both as to mechanical construction and correlative technique of its performers. Hence the organ was destined to become a spontaneous yet covert connecting link between pure choral and pure instrumental music.
The initiative in this progression is due to the direct heirs of the Flemish School—the Venetian organists. Both Andreas Gabrieli (1510), pupil of Willaert, and Merulo (1533) had begun to add ornamental embellishments to their accompaniments, and although coherence was lacking, the step once taken led to extended experiments. Thus the treatment of further instruments employed in religious worship instinctively received more careful attention. Little by little composers awoke to the realization that the servile imitation of a capella polyphonic choral writing hitherto employed, was unsuited to the characteristics of differentiated individual instruments or combinations of instruments. True, the artistic value of these early attempts was but small, and would almost appear as an incompatibility, taking into consideration the fact that their authors were erudite in the subtleties of canonical device. Nevertheless, several tangible results are to be noted. As has been said, instrumental writing acquired a certain amount of individuality. Through search for balance of tone there was inaugurated a selective process as to the permanent value of each specific genre of an instrument. Instrumental adaptation of choral imitation led to contrast. Expansibility of musical thought was quickened. Thus Flemish influence was kept alive in that the incipient forms of their Venetian disciples, inherited by the subsequent violinist-composers, matured into the cyclic sonata.
Conspicuous are the organ works of Frescobaldi (1583-1644), the great predecessor of Bach. His labors also directly influenced subsequent clavier music as developed by Kuhnau in the following century. Credit is due to Giovanni Gabrieli (1587) for systematic attempts at orchestration and a distinctive style of writing for the violin. This latter, however, had to wait for the development of technique, which, as we shall see, was concurrent with the progress of solo singing. And thus the year 1600, epoch-making in the rehabilitation of the drama, can be likewise referred to as a general starting point for independent instrumentation.
II.
The second and more powerful incentive that instrumentation received was from monody, in connection with which its function as accompaniment in simplified form was demonstrated. The fons et origo of declamatory recitative are, of course, to be traced to the attempted reforms of the Florentine camerata. Monody was the cradle of opera and oratorio, and became in turn the foster child of her progeny. Now these histrionic roots were diversified and far reaching.
In the first place, during the two centuries preceding the era under discussion, the miracle plays and representations of similar purport had had recourse to musical support, though of a nature disjointed and irrelevant.
Secondly, the efforts of the troubadours, minstrels, and minnesingers embodied solo-singing to instrumental accompaniment, and contained elements of the dramatic.
Lastly, a newly awakened veneration for everything pertaining to classic Greece revealed the nobility of her drama. This was the causa vera to be espoused! And the evolution of this renaissance, which reached a climax in 1600, must be traced to the history of the Medici.
Toward the close of the fifteenth century, when three generations of that family had brought Florence to the height of her glory, art had received a new impulse under the fostering care of Lorenzo. Moreover, science had acquired the doctrines of the Greek scholars fleeing from Turkish oppression. And the brief interim of asceticism under the sway of the Dominican monk, Savanarola, was followed by the restoration to power of the Medici. A non-clerical influence in all matters pertaining to art made itself felt, and the founding of the Platonic Academy by Cosimo the Great added fuel to the already existing predilection for the drama as exploited by the Ancients.
Hence the aim of the amateur poet and composer, Bardi, and his coterie was to produce a drama which should faithfully conform to the purity and idealism of classic models. And they sought diligently for a clue to original renditions of Attic tragedy, the Dorian choral lyrics, the song-lyrics of Anacreon, Sappho. But their conception thereof was based on a fallacy, so that were one to judge the fruits of their labors solely for their intrinsic value, the verdict would be disappointing.
On the other hand, the step they took was a gigantic one forward in its revolutionary after-results. For the quintessence of recitative and lyrical solo was contained in Galilei's and Caccini's declamatory recitatives with accompaniment of lute or viol; in Peri's and Caccini's "Dafne" and "Euridice"—the first genuine music dramas in the monodic style; in Cavalieri's allegory or incipient oratorio "L'Anima e Corpo." All these attempts were infinitely more expressive and effective than the sombre selections with which A. Gabrieli and Merulo had been wont to enliven festive secular occasions. Bardi and Corsi, in the face of conservatism and skepticism, had sought to reinstate the principles founded upon the Greek Dithyramb. Inspired by the enthusiasm of these two amateurs, the professionals, Peri and Cavalieri, succeeded simultaneously in discovering two rational operatic designs, capable of sequent dramatic treatment.
Finally, the very nature of the monodic principle was inseparable from instrumental accompaniment, and the primary causes that led to monody, namely, expression and dramatic effect, would in themselves insist upon a keener appreciation for instrumental combination as to selection, distribution of parts, dynamics, color-scheme. This is borne out to a limited extent in the later works of both Peri and Cavalieri, whose instrumentation, though crude, paved the way for their greater contemporary and eventual successor, Monteverde. Even though the bulk of the figured bass accompaniment was assigned to the harpsichord, "Euridice" called into requisition one viol, three flutes, and a triplet of instruments of the lute variety. Cavalieri made use of practically the same combination, and even recommended that a violin should duplicate the vocal melody throughout.
In contradistinction to these essays at dramatic scoring should be mentioned the instrumentation of Striggio (1535), whose intermezzi or comedies interspersed with music were written in the madrigal style. Nor should the concertante sacred song of Viadana (1564) or the instrumental effects of Gibbons (1583) be overlooked. But Striggio, some thirty odd years before "Euridice" was produced, had not only forestalled but surpassed his immediate successors by the employment of an orchestra of which more than half were stringed instruments; again, seven of these were played with a bow. So that, considering the primitive methods then in use, the constitution of Striggio's orchestra was unique. It consisted of six lutes, seven viols, two gravicembali, six flutes, eight cornetti and tromboni, all of variated types and sizes.
The above enumeration brings to mind the pre-existence of a rather heterogeneous assortment of now partially obsolete instruments with which we are more or less familiar. Therefore, before proceeding from the subject of instrumentation to that of orchestration proper as inaugurated by Monteverde, a review of the structural and mechanical evolution of instruments themselves would seem in place.
[CHAPTER III.]
EVOLUTION OF MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.
The first serious attention bestowed upon the mechanism of instruments and the selection of those whose qualities should justify permanent retention occurred during the sixteenth century, and, as we have seen, the causes that led up to this were extraneous. In glancing over the names and descriptions of the many varieties of instruments already in existence before this development began, the mind becomes easily confused. Many species of stringed instruments such as lutes, viols, clavichords, harpsichords, not to mention brass instruments, the schalmei, cromornes, abounded on every hand; but the deeper the student of instrumental evolution delves into comparative research, the more he finds authorities at variance. However, the lineage of the three great representatives of stringed instruments as are in use to-day—instruments played with a bow, the harp, the pianoforte, may fairly be traced simultaneously.
I.
Prehistoric origin of stringed instruments, in spite of extant relics, is a matter of conjecture. History, on the other hand, suggests various sources in various ages. Of greatest recorded antiquity are the Egyptian lute and harp, which were struck with a plectrum or plucked by the fingers. These migrated through Arabia into Spain, thence to Southern Italy, and became diffused over all Europe. The Greek lyra or kithara, having originally but four strings, was also played with a plectrum, and became the heirloom of the Romans. But to discover the origin of instruments played with a bow is a more difficult matter. A number of theories are plausible. Like all other instruments they were probably invented simultaneously by many isolated barbaric races. The bow and arrow were undoubtedly suggestive, and it is to be presumed that primitive types of the lyre family whose strings were originally plucked, were fitted to uncouth sounding-boards and played upon with a bow. The Hindoos possessed such instruments, and it is possible that their admission into Europe was concurrent with that of the lute and harp. In defence of this supposition, one might point to the dance of the women attending the Jongleurs. Now the dance is no uncertain revealer of racial characteristics. But not only the dance itself, but also certain features of the accompaniment, as well as the types of instruments peculiar to the Jongleurs bear the impress of Orientalism. As far as is known, neither the Greeks nor the Romans possessed instruments played with a bow.
From the Middle Ages on, the study of instrumental evolution is, of course, based upon authentic history. The most direct line of descent for bowed-instruments is probably from either the Celtic crwth or the Oriental rebab to the vielle or viola of the Middle Ages (Spanish vihuela, Latin fidula), of which the last representative was the gamba; and the viola da gamba was the predecessor of the violoncello. The early viols were of manifold types, there being, for instance, as many as seven viole da braccia and six viole da gambe. The violin owes its existence to a gradual metamorphosic development of the early tenor viola, during the latter part of the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. Skill in the manufacture of these instruments was of an advanced order in the Netherlands prior to the advent of the great Italian violin makers, whose efforts were eventually crowned by the immutable sovereignty of the Cremonese creations at the commencement of the eighteenth century. The introduction of the contrabasso was likewise of slow growth. For as late as the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries there still existed bass instruments of the lute family, such as the double-necked theorbo and the largest bass lute, the chitarrone, which were struck with a plectrum. But growing appreciation for the wonderful possibilities concealed in the infant violin proper, of technique, tone, color, delicacy, and variety of shading, reacted upon the secondary bowed-instruments, and they in turn were rapidly perfected. Hence, by a judicious selection of the superior and a suppression of the inferior types of viols were the violas and violoncellos evolved; and the theorbo and chitarrone were permanently supplanted by the double-bass, constructed on the same general principles as the violin.
Although the ideal balance of tone and expressive powers as embodied in the modern string orchestra justifies the perspicuity of this selective process in every way, it would seem to be a matter for regret that a certain species of viols, the viola d'amore, should have become practically obsolete. Its seven strings were supplemented by seven concealed under strings, designed to vibrate sympathetically. One might say that this principle has been incorporated in the modern grand pianoforte by means of the "una corda" pedal. But since Meyerbeer resuscitated the viola d'amore in "Les Huguenots" in 1836, the only living composer who has assigned to it a conspicuous rôle is, to the present writer's knowledge, Mr. C.M. Loeffler in his symphonic poem "La Mort de Tintagiles," after Maeterlinck, indeed the original score contained parts for two solo viole d'amore though one part has since been rewritten for a violin.
II.
The evolution of the harp is obvious, whereas that of the pianoforte is more complex. The prototype of the modern pianoforte in its embryonic state traces its ancestry to all the various types of stringed instruments taken collectively. Specifically, the primitive acoustic monochord of Pythagoras might be looked upon as a plausible starting point. Add to this a keyboard and its attendant devices as applied to church organs in the earlier centuries of the Christian era, and the prototype is complete. Be that as it may, there was developed during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries a family of widely known instruments embodying advanced qualities of mechanism, styled "Hackbrett," synonym for cembalo, tympanon, although it is best known as the dulcimer. According to Dr. Riemann, it originated apparently in Germany, since for a time it was called in Italy by the name of Salterio tedesco. The instrument consisted of a flat trapezium-shaped sounding-board on which steel strings were set, and was played upon by two hammers held one in each hand of the performer. In improved form, it is still extant in the hands of the gypsies. But already at the beginning of the sixteenth century was the clavichord established as its successor. The clavichord, according to Hipkins, was derived from the polychord with four strings, which in turn was developed from the monochord "to facilitate the melodic division of the Gregorian tones." Directly appeared still another instrument styled clavicembalo or harpsichord, of which the psaltery, a triangular harp, was undoubtedly the ancestor. The spinet and virginal differed from the harpsichord only as to shape; and in England, virginal was the general term for spinet and harpsichord. The cardinal point of dissimilarity between the mechanical construction of the clavichord and the harpsichord was that the strings of the former were caused to sound by means of metal tangents, which struck against the strings and then pressed them up, whereas the strings of the latter were plucked by hard quills set in wooden jacks. But of far greater importance was the difference of tone-quality. The tone of the clavichord was delicate, subdued,—incapable of energetic utterance, but so expressive that it was a favorite with great musicians; that of the harpsichord was crisp, short, uniform. A radical readjustment of mechanism was found necessary in order to combine in one instrument euphony and variation of dynamic force. Therefore in the beginning of the eighteenth century hammer-action was invented, and the pianoforte, derived from the dulcimer, came into existence. Despite this fact, both the clavichord and the harpsichord continued to hold their own beyond the boundaries of that century. And so we see that the perfected modern pianoforte, being but the outcome of a variety of instruments already in existence three hundred years ago, was unable to supersede them until the nineteenth century.
Turning our attention again to instruments belonging to the orchestra proper, we find an inexhaustible subject in the evolution of the two other great families, the wood and the brass. Most of the above-advanced hypotheses in respect to origin and migration of strings are equally pertinent to the wind. But the inference that the genesis of these latter instruments antedates that of the lyre and lute is surely justified in that conch shells and the horns of animals must have offered the most natural means for producing artificial musical tones. Again, the construction of stringed instruments suggests a more advanced stage of intellectuality. Finally, there have been preserved to us from antiquity a far more numerous and varied array of comparatively natural instruments such as the Egyptian mem and sebi,—respectively vertical and horizontal flutes, of which the former was more common and still exists in the guise of the modern Arab flute. One of the most simple species of horn was the "Schofar" or ram's-horn, used in the temple worship of the Hebrews. The Assyrians as well as the Egyptians possessed trumpets, probably of brass. The war trumpets of the Romans were of bronze. The deep-toned trumpet or tuba was straight; the high-toned lituus was bent; and the buccina, large trumpet or trombone, was curved.
III.
The principle of both single and double reeds was understood by the Greeks. As a result of the researches of Professor A.A. Howard, an accurate description of their representative instruments, the auloi, Latin tibiae, is to be found in "Harvard Studies in Classical Philology," Vol. 4. His article presents strong arguments in favor of the belief that instrumental polyphony was actually practised by the Greeks. Performers upon the auloi played almost invariably upon two pipes at once. The instruments were supplied with finger-holes, were capable of producing both the diatonic and chromatic scales, and may be divided into three classes corresponding, in a general way, to the three types of wood-winds as are in use to-day. All of them had a tube of cylindrical bore, but most of them were supplied with a double mouthpiece like the modern oboe, so that these species of the auloi can be regarded as the prototype of the preferred double-reeds that prevailed during the Middle Ages when they went under the name of schalmei. This nomenclature is confusing; in explanation it should be said that not until after the original schalmei had developed into the pommer, thence to the oboe, was the single-reeded predecessor of the clarinet known by this name. Colloquialism refers to the schalmei in its later application.
Another double-reed that came into temporary existence during the Middle Ages was the variety of cromornes. They differed from the schalmei principally as to form—Krummhorn.
The successors of the original schalmei are described in detail by Praetorius, who wrote in the first decade of the seventeenth century. Of the six varieties of pommer mentioned by him, the treble pommer became transformed into the hautbois (high wood); the alto pommer into the cor Anglais (cor anglé, bent horn),—known during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as the oboe da caccia; and out of the bass pommer, likewise styled bombarde, emanated the fagotto (bundle of fagots). As a commentary to the above enumeration one should take note of a quite remarkable tendency which was, indeed, already in vogue during the Hellenic age. Namely, that from each parent instrument whether string, wood, or brass, there germinated a complete family representing the four ranges of the human voice. And again from these the process of tribal expansion was carried yet further. Moreover it must be remembered that before the Middle Ages, the art of combining human voices in polyphony was but in a nascent state, and probably existed in classic Greece not at all. Therefore families of instrumental species cannot have been constructed for the purpose of obtaining homogeneous harmonic effects. An extensive range of con-natural tone-color was then the objective. It will be found that this tendency was uniform throughout the history of instrumental evolution. Of course when we reach the sixteenth century, we find that the advantage of distributing the components of harmony among the members of assimilated instruments began to be appreciated. It is possibly due to this natural evolution that innovators in orchestration at first accustomed themselves to the use of pure tone-color rather than of mixed tints. Thus in the sixteenth century, the flûte à bec, predecessor of the modern flute, was employed in groups of four. Praetorius makes mention of no less than eight different kinds as prevalent in his day. Our chief representative of the single reed, the clarinet, which was not invented until the end of the seventeenth century, owes its origin to a primitive form of instrument with clarinet mouthpiece:—the mediæval chalemiax or chalumeau, whence the phonetic rendition, schalmei. The now obsolete basset-horn belongs properly to this genealogy. It was frequently used during the time of its development by the composers of the latter eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. From it were devolved the short-lived alto and tenor clarinets, and the better qualities of all three are now embodied in the subsequently perfected bass-clarinet. Mention is also due to the saxophone, invented by Sax in 1840. It should be classed under the heading of wood instruments rather than of brass, since its tone-quality partakes somewhat of the nature of the clarinet. It has a single-reed mouthpiece, and the fingering is akin to that of the clarinet; but the over-blowing produces the octave as in the flute and oboe, whereas in the clarinet the twelfth is produced. Sax made seven different sized saxophones, of which four are commonly in use, and that particularly in French and American military bands.
IV.
The history of brass instruments is extensive; at the same time their development is easy to trace. But it must be remembered that only those instruments possess pedigree from which upper harmonics are produced, i.e. those constructed with long tube and narrow bore. Even this statement must be qualified in that the French horn is of modern extraction. Only trumpets and trombones, therefore, are directly descended from the early Roman instruments with cup-shaped mouthpieces, such as the lituus and buccina. And in the Middle Ages there existed side by side two such families,—the Zinken, and the trombe and tromboni. The Zink or cornetto had a wooden tube pierced by sounding holes, and was constructed in different sizes. The larger species was, at the close of the sixteenth century, transformed into the Serpent, which had a bell of brass. This instrument is still in use in some Italian military bands. The Zinken were extant in the hands of the "town musicians" even into the eighteenth century. Akin to them are the simple Alpine Horn and the Lur of Norway.
In the Middle Ages the trumpet was generally made of brass, and the tube was at first unbent. The principle of sliding tubes for the purpose of procuring additional tones to the natural ones of an instrument was of ancient origin. It was applied to trumpets as well as to trombones, a practice still in force in England. The obvious advantage of this device was that a complete chromatic scale could be obtained, impossible for all other brass instruments at a time when crooks and valves were unknown. The earlier name for the trombone, i.e. bass trumpet, was sackbut, but the original appellation, buccina, has been perpetuated in the German Bosaun, now Posaune.
In the sixteenth century, the tromba, synonym for clarino, trummet, together with the three genres of trombones as used by the subsequent great classicists, was already perfected as a sliding-tube instrument. Or one might include both instruments under one heading by speaking of the tromba as a treble trombone. However, in order to obtain more efficient high brass instruments, constant experiments were made. The earlier improvements had obviated the clumsy length of brass instruments by bending and rebending their tubes. Then followed the application to the brass of the finger-hole system of the wooden Zinken. Finally, in the eighteenth century, the introduction of removable crooks improved the trombe as far as quality of tone is concerned. But the highest point of evolution was arrived at early in the nineteenth century, when the perfection of the chromatic valve principle revolutionized not only the mechanism but also the manner of writing for trumpets as well as for horns and bugles.
As has been intimated above, the history of the French horn is short. There is but a slight analogy between it and the cor de chasse of the Middle Ages, an instrument that possessed but few tones. The genuine French horn made its appearance in the first half of the seventeenth century, and the stages of its development may be regarded as centennial. In the eighteenth century was added the crook principle, in the nineteenth, the valve system. These improvements were attendant upon those made upon trumpets. Like the trumpet, the "natural" horn was conducive to purity of tone, the chromatic horn to greater practicability without material loss of purity.
The family of bugles belong more properly to the subject of military bands, but a word is due to their evolution on account of the orchestral importance of one of their members—the bass tuba. The bugle-horn, also known as the sax-horn, is constructed on acoustic principles diametrically opposed to those of the trombe family in that the bore is wider and the tube shorter, whereby the principle of obtaining harmonics is reversed.
The date of Beethoven's birth signalized the first application of key mechanism to wood instruments. Simultaneously, experiments were made upon the now obsolete brass Zinken. The new instrument was called bugle à clefs, and was the forerunner of a group of different sized opheicleides, of which the lowest supplanted the sixteenth century Serpent. Subsequently the opheicleide itself was superseded by the bass tuba, a more noble instrument of the same general family.
V.
The evolution of instruments of percussion requires but brief mention. Sound-producing apparatus devoid of definite pitch belongs to the initial attempts of primitive men to assist vocal expression of emotional feeling, to accompany religious orgies, or to encourage their warriors on the march. The modern orchestra includes the best of these primitive species, transformed into perfected types of genuine artistic value, and has also drawn into requisition various instruments originating in countries that are far apart. Most commonly used are the bass-drum, the cymbals, and the triangle. The family of drums further includes the long side-drum and the small military drum. With the cymbals and triangle belong the tam-tam or Chinese gong, the Oriental and Spanish tambourine, the Spanish and Neapolitan castanets, and the Turkish crescent or bell-rattle. The use of all such instruments is, of course, the exception rather than the rule. Their mission is primarily to suggest "local" coloring or to emphasize rhythm for dancing.
Instruments of percussion possessing definite and variable pitch are represented primarily by the kettle-drums, which are constant and indispensable members of the orchestra. The early Hackbrett or dulcimer might also be classed under this heading, which further includes the various sets of bells, such as the carillon or Glockenspiel of Chinese origin, together with the Stahlspiel or Lyra, and the Xylophone.
This sketch demonstrates the fact that the early evolution of instruments went hand in hand with that of music in general and is subject to identical hypotheses. With the dawn of secular music, the development of instrumental construction and mechanism is focused upon the sixteenth century, with emphasis upon the anterior practice of employing complete homogeneous groups.
In order to cover the entire ground, this survey of the development of musical instruments has necessarily transgressed the bounds of the sixteenth century perspective. And since we are about to recontinue a critical review of the orchestra as inherited by Monteverde, it will be well to remember that in his day the only orchestral instruments in the modern sense of the word were violins and viols, harps, flutes, pommers, cornetti, trumpets, trombones. In combination with these, lutes, guitars, organs, the clavichord and the harpsichord were still employed.
[CHAPTER IV.]
BEGINNINGS OF ORCHESTRATION.
I.
Claudio Monteverde[1] (1567-1643) is justly styled the founder of the modern orchestra; but although modern orchestral organization owes its substratum of solidity and balance of tone to him, only indirectly was he led to attain this end, for his paramount objective was artistic expression. Naturally, the employment of artistically grouped instruments appealed to him as the most flexible conveyance for expressive thought. Again, Monteverde was instinctively a dramatic writer, so that as a matter of course the histrionic efforts of the Florentine experimentalists attracted him. Finally, when Monteverde entered upon his dramatic career after having already become celebrated as a writer of madrigals and of other vocal forms, pure choral music as perfected by Palestrina and Lasso was at its zenith, and instrumentation in its elementary state was inseparable from the drama,—it being understood that the early attempts at oratorio in the stilo rappresentativo were built on the same general principles as the early operas, without differentiation in musical or instrumental treatment. Nor were the incipient efforts at orchestral accompaniment to religious worship of sufficient importance to be taken into consideration. Therefore, Monteverde's contribution to the chain of æsthetic and practical musical development consists of his successful search after expressive and dramatic effects and his reconstruction of the orchestra. He also broke away from the Church Modes, employed a system of harmony nearer akin to our own, made free use of the Chord of the Dominant Seventh, and introduced bolder harmonies and unprepared dissonances. These harmonic innovations were already noticeable in his earlier vocal compositions.
As we have seen, Peri contributed much to his successors from a dramatic standpoint, but as for expression, the Florentine pseudo music dramas consisted of a monotonous and long-spun succession of primitive and dreary recitativi with but little support other than a basso continuo and meagre chords, whereas Monteverde, absorbed in the discovery of means by which he might emphasize expression, developed true creative talent in a diversity of ways. For although his chord successions were still crude and his perspective for design but slightly evolved, his realization of the importance of stage effects led him to intensify the dramatic action, to vary the tone-color, to extend the functions of the accompaniment to the voice, and to relieve the monotony of constant recitativo by a more liberal and artistic use of the arioso.
These innovations were destined to wield far-reaching influence. Though admiration for the earlier pure choral style was soon rekindled in Italy, it was not long before the two styles, the old and the new, were combined, as embodied in the oratorios of Carissimi; and Schütz, who had been taught by Giovanni Gabrieli of Venice, transplanted these Italian methods into Germany. But the direct line of development from Monteverde's dramatic theories is to be traced through Cavalli, and from him through Lulli, into France, thenceforth the permanent home for histrionic displays; for Italy turned to a more careful consideration of melodic beauty and taste for design, whereas the disciples of Schütz, though cultivating the new principles especially in oratorio, still retained their German characteristics.
Turning to Monteverde's labors in the field of instrumentation, we find, in place of the very rudimentary and heterogeneous combinations heretofore employed, a well-defined and fairly logical assortment of instruments, the nuclei of which were strings, and it is the establishment of this nucleus that is epoch making. True, his first dramatic attempt, "Orfeo," was scored for organs, harpsichords, lutes, harps, guitars, trombones, trumpets, flutes, and various members of the viol family, including so-called little French violins,[2] constituting an orchestra of thirty-six men, of whom nearly one third were performers upon brass instruments. On the other hand, it is necessary to take several contingencies into consideration. In the first place, this orchestra, like Cavalieri's, was concealed behind the scenes, instructive in its suggestion for the modern sunken orchestra at Bayreuth. Again, it has been supposed that the loud-voiced trumpets were muted, a device sometimes employed for special effects in modern scoring. (As to this supposition, however, the present writer is of the opinion that the instruments actually employed were the cornetti muti or soft-speaking trumpets of wood, and that in translation, the word "muted" has been erroneously applied.) Finally, although Monteverde was not, like Peri and Cavalieri, content to depend entirely upon the performers to supply the necessary chords and embellishments, nevertheless in the art of instrumentation he was but a pioneer, and most of his accompaniments were light and of a primitive nature. The very simplicity of his rudimentary method of scoring is proof that neither he nor his contemporaries could have realized the resonant powers of so formidable an aggregation of brass when properly handled; and just this non-realization was propitious for the early development of the orchestra, in that, by negative means, noisy trivialities were excluded from the scores of the early masters. But in antithesis to this undue preponderance of metallic tone-quality, the employment of no less than seventeen instruments played with a bow was an immense stride forward, especially when we consider the fact that within the same decade lutes and the harpsichord had constituted the body of embryo orchestras.
At the close of the sixteenth century there were still many varieties of the viol family, but the value of the erroneously styled "little French violin" is said to have been first appreciated by Monteverde, who introduced it into his orchestra where its inestimable value was at once recognized. Profiting by this felicitous innovation, he continued to emphasize the importance of the string band, enlarged it, and, by a judicious suppression of the weaker members of the viol family, established a body of strings that conforms, at least approximately, to the violins, violas, 'cellos, and basses of the present day.
Having once for all instituted a rational and permanent foundation for obtaining solidity of tone combined with facility of execution, it was a matter of course that the brass should ultimately appear in more logical proportion to the strings. The progress of the wood-wind was of slower growth, largely due to technical imperfections and mechanical difficulties of performance. But, considering the means at his disposal, a commendable appreciation for contrasted groups of instruments is embodied in the pages of his later works,—indeed, already in "Orfeo" can be traced this tendency to enhance the dramatic situation by means of judicious tone-coloring. Oft-quoted illustrations are the accompaniment of Pluto's songs by four trombones, the lament of Orpheus by bass viols, the chorus of spirits by organi di legno. And in his riper works, intelligent instrumentation and characteristic orchestration progress simultaneously. The introduction of the tremolo, pizzicato, and other dramatic and expressive devices is attributed to him. He showed some system of scoring, which included more specific instructions for the performers than had hitherto been the custom.[3] And the fact that he distinguished between vocal and instrumental effects is of historic value in that it paved the way for the advent of purely orchestral composition.[4]
II.
It is remarkable that the direct successors of Monteverde should have been more or less blind to the latent powers of this newly vitalized organism,—this prototype of the modern orchestra. Even Carissimi (1604) cannot be included among the progressive writers for the orchestra, indeed, his art of scoring stands lower than Monteverde's. Of course, in the development of oratorio, his dramatic influence was of great importance. He caused the monodic style to advance rapidly, by infusing into recitativo and the aria more spontaneity, into instrumental accompaniment greater interest. Though inferior to Monteverde in originality, Carissimi evinced a keener appreciation for plastic and tonal effects. His eminent pupil, Cesti (1620), is likewise to be remembered less for his instrumentation than for his further development of recitativo and the da capo aria in connection with the operatic stage.
On the other hand, Cavalli (1600), apart from the fortuitous influence his sojourn at the court of Louis XIV had upon Lulli, inherited a more decided talent for orchestration from Monteverde, whose pupil he was. His interesting experiments in writing accompaniments for two violins and a bass established a precedent that survived the test of many years. Like Monteverde, his instincts were strongly dramatic, but perhaps his connection with St. Mark's Church modified his style of writing for the orchestra. For more especially his a capella sacred works are imbued with considerable warmth of expression, and show sentient regard for melody, rhythm, and form. And thus, even as Carissimi displayed but little feeling for purely instrumental effects, though holding a unique position as a composer of oratorio, so Cavalli must be regarded as primarily a dramatic writer,—indeed, among the immediate successors of Monteverde, he alone succeeded in substantially furthering dramatic development in Italy, that is to say, the development of dramatic ideals as had been attempted by the Florentine neophytes of Greek tragedy. For as Langhans expresses it: "After him Italian opera gradually diverges from the path originally taken, and sacrifices the antique simplicity aimed at by its founders to the ever increasing demand for sensuous charm. The alliance of poetry and music, dissolved in the Middle Ages and renewed but a few decades before, is again broken off, and the equilibrium that had just been acquired is sacrificed anew to the claims of music."
III.
But while the nature of Italian music after Cavalli's time was subject to variable influences, France took up the cause of drama with enthusiasm, and in this field Lulli (1633-1687) looms up as the sole dictator of his age. Favored by the extravagant demands for display and spectacular effects prevalent at the court of Louis XIV, Lulli proceeded to develop dance forms as had been inaugurated by his predecessor, Cambert, whose position he usurped. The ballet de cour, already in vogue in France, consisted of dances, dialogues set to music, combined with dramatic episodes. Out of this native form of entertainment, modern French opera was destined to germinate. Having found this a suitable prototype as a basis for his operas, Lulli proceeded to imbue it with exotic principles. Like Monteverde, he discarded the ecclesiastical modes. Again, he adhered strictly to the requirements of his text, and developed declamatory recitative as promulgated by Cavalli. And to the reactive influence of the Italian monodic theorem upon French literature during this brilliant period of Corneille, Molière, Racine, does France owe the excellence of her declamation.
But, considering the versatility of the man, once again a disappointing analogy to the peculiarly prominent deficiency of Carissimi and Cavalli confronts us. For Lulli's orchestration was, like that of Meyerbeer two hundred years later, sensational rather than of enduring worth. By no means is Lulli's universal genius as organizer, composer and orchestrator to be undervalued, nor is the importance of his influence upon subsequent French music to be lost sight of. But it is evident that the direct evolution of really stable instrumentation was benefited, during this period, more by the crowning achievements of Scarlatti, and by the labors of the secondary Italian composers, who devoted themselves more especially to purely instrumental music, and thereby sowed the seed for subsequent purely orchestral music in Germany. It is true that credit is due to Lulli for having introduced into his orchestra a large variety of instruments, which he used with considerable skill, although all of them were not suitable for permanent retention; but it would appear to the present writer that Lavoix, in his "Histoire de L'Instrumentation," page 216, is, perhaps, somewhat extravagant in his eulogy of Lulli's orchestration, especially since he previously makes but passing reference to that of Scarlatti. Again, similar use of solo effects and of contrasted groups of instruments as cited by Lavoix is also to be found in the scores of Lulli's predecessors and contemporaries in Italy. Indeed one might say that in general the efforts of these early composers to obtain genuinely characteristic tone-color are apt to be overestimated, for, as Lavoix himself subsequently acknowledges in regard to Lulli:—"Il faut l'avouer, c'était encore au violon qu'il avait confié ses scènes symphoniques les plus délicates et les plus expressives." Finally, even though strings formed the basis of his orchestra, augmented by wind instruments both wood and brass, the irrepressible harpsichord, solicitous for the welfare of her flock, and fearful lest emancipation from her protectorate should result in chaos, still closely followed the harmonic delineations of the legitimate orchestral instruments, supporting them, as it were, in concentual leading-strings! Had Lulli and his contemporaries understood the art of judiciously distributing the notes of a chord throughout the orchestra, not to mention the proper choice in number and species of instrument, this custom would have soon fallen into disuse; and, as we know, not until this did take place one hundred years later, was it possible to obtain ideal solidity, balance of tone, contrast, and variety. By a coincidence, the year of Beethoven's birth sounded the death-knell of the orchestral harpsichord, for in the opera "Mitridate," written in that year, Mozart was the last of the great composers to employ it as a regular component of the orchestra.
To Lulli, therefore, orchestration was but a secondary issue, in spite of the importance he attached to it. Form, on the other hand, was permanently benefited by his labors, whereas, in musical history, he occupies the second of the four pedestals sustaining the arch that spans the realm of pure music drama, and retires into the mythical haze of Hellenic tragedy.
IV.
As intimated above, further survey of the field of instrumentation in Italy discovers commendable activity, such as was displayed by Legrenzi; by Steffani and Clari; by the violinists Torelli, Vivaldi, and especially Corelli; finally, by the greatest musician both active and creative of the seventeenth century, Scarlatti.
The labors of Legrenzi (1625) are worthy of consideration on account of his logical development of the constituency of the orchestra. As Maestro at San Marco, Venice, he increased the number of instrumentalists at that church to over thirty. It is noteworthy that he employed almost exclusively violins and viols, supported in the bass by four theorbos (i.e. bass instruments of the lute family). The wood-wind was represented by a solitary bassoon, whereas two cornets and three trombones replaced Monteverde's earlier assortment of brass. And thus, already in the seventeenth century was found a man whose perspicuity in the choice of a modest band of loud-voiced instruments commended itself for some of the mightiest climaxes of Beethoven's immortal works.
The significance of chamber music as fostered by Steffani (1655) and Clari (1669) is, of course, well known in musical history. And the wonderful impetus given to the art of violin-making, by stimulating a development of executive technique, brought forth fruit that culminated in the regency of a number of famous violinist-composers. Among these, Torelli (died 1708), for the creation of the concerto grosso, Vivaldi (died 1743), for the development of harmonic design and figuration characteristic of his instrument, and Corelli (1653-1713), for combining principles of harmony with contrapuntal devices, rendered invaluable service to the nascent architecture of modern string writing. For by exploring the possibilities of the violin, by establishing its superiority as a solo instrument, by demonstrating not only its potentiality but also its limitations in relation to other instruments, there arose, in consequence, a more delicate perception as to the necessary constitution of an evenly balanced string band. This acquirement was accompanied by improved methods of writing for the strings.
No composer of his time combined these requirements more successfully than Corelli, for the types of composition which occupied his attention were the precursors of the classic sonata, and his contributions thereto mark the starting point of genuinely artistic instrumental music. Corelli's relation to chamber music and the concerto is as that of Monteverde to the orchestra. Neither of them was a radical reformer; they both proceeded along the more conservative lines of evolution, selection, elaboration. The scaffolding of their respective spheres of activity had already been reared by that countless throng of forgotten and unappreciated workers, whose mission it is to make smooth the path for the greater lights, that appropriate and mould into collectaneous form the puny though individual originality of the lesser. But whereas nothing more than a pious interest in an historic heirloom has preserved Monteverde's efforts from falling into oblivion, those of Corelli have been perpetuated by reason of their intrinsic merit.
V.
The highest development of productive musical art during the seventeenth century culminated in Scarlatti[5] (1659-1725). And orchestration was aided by him to no small degree. Of course, his name is primarily coupled with the Neapolitan operatic principles,—principles that ultimately led to baneful results, in spite of having enriched the world with sensuous and beautiful melody. Only a cursory review of Scarlatti's expansive activity is permissible as being mostly irrelevant to our subject. Reared in the characteristic atmosphere of Carissimi's cantatas and oratorios, impelled by poetic instinct and fondness for melodic design, he enlarged upon the da capo aria, the recitativo accompagnato, and in general paid careful attention to the external structure of the separate numbers in his operas. Above all, Scarlatti became the knight errant though eventually the thrall of il bel canto.[6] Now highly developed vocal phraseology demands judicious accompaniment, and good orchestral accompaniment requires a nice adjustment of dynamic force combined with skill in writing. It was fortunate, therefore, that Scarlatti possessed both these attributes; and through the channels of this important branch of orchestration, independent orchestration received permanent form. Let us see how this metamorphosis took place.
Retrospection shows us that Peri, initiating a rudimentary dramatic style in place of Flemish polyphony, contributed but slightly to the advancement of instrumental accompaniment. He and his collaborators wrote little more than a figured bass for the harpsichord, and at performance they evoked the aid of the adventitious efforts of a motley aggregation of instrumentalists. The printed scores of Schütz are equally primitive. In France, the lyrical stage piece of Perrin and Cambert, "La Pastorale" (produced in 1659—the year of Scarlatti's birth) showed some slight improvement in the art of scoring; but it has been said that even Lulli composed his operas at the spinet, and at times delegated various details of instrumentation to his secretary. Monteverde established a nucleus of strings. Cavalli developed three-part writing for two violins and a bass. Legrenzi regulated the "distribution" of instruments. Corelli and his contemporaries advanced technique of performance and cultivated instrumentation in the miniature.
The task allotted to Scarlatti was, therefore, not difficult. He accepted the already established supremacy of strings, but soon realized that three-part writing did not produce even balance of tone. Consequently, he adopted a manner of writing which comprised a division of the violins into firsts and seconds. He added, moreover, an individual part for the violas, and thereby established a canon of phonetics that has been accepted by all erudite composers since his time. It is true that these characteristics of orchestration cannot be said to have originated with him, but his persistent use thereof established a precedent of permanent value. In three-part writing, not only the violoncellos and basses progressed simultaneously in unison or octaves, but also the viola, if present, reënforced the bass in slavish delineation. It is obvious that this practice was the result either of sophism or of indifference and ignorance. And the fact that as late as the eighteenth century no less a composer than Haydn and even Mozart should have continued to frequently employ three-part writing for the strings is certainly a paradox, and tends to prove how circuitous the process of evolution is. However, Haydn and Mozart had such perfect command of florid counterpoint, that no matter what the distribution of string parts might be, the results were invariably effective.
Four instead of three notes of a chord being now properly dispersed among the strings,[7] Scarlatti proceeded to enrich his orchestra by a logical employment of wind instruments in pairs. The harpsichord, of course, continued to hold its own, but the Händelian principle of long held notes in the wind against more agile string passages is already to be found in his scores, a principle of which Lulli was also cognizant. But Scarlatti's orchestra was more plastic than Lulli's, and his overtures more purely instrumental.
As has been stated, Italian culture of the violin and the increasing regard in which that instrument was held, led to the development of execution as well as to an appropriate style of writing for it on a well defined harmonic basis. These improvements were, moreover, further reflected by a more earnest attention to the progress of other instruments, both as to mechanism and technique. As a result, musical performances improved rapidly, and the isolated, purely instrumental numbers of the opera, heretofore utterly disregarded by the public, began to excite comment. Whereupon Scarlatti, keen to perceive any nascent inclination on the part of his audience, turned to a more careful consideration of the overture. His motives for doing so may not have been of the highest, but the results were directly beneficial in that by eliciting warm approval, these overtures were eventually performed as concert numbers apart from the opera. Though short in form, they consisted of three or four distinct, well-rounded movements, and were destined to become the prototype of the classic symphony.
In specifically instrumental music, Scarlatti paved the way for Bach and Händel by writing for two violins and a violoncello, treated as soli instruments to an accompaniment of a string orchestra.
Finally, the components of his orchestra—represented in his most felicitous scoring by violins, violas, 'cellos, double-basses, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns—were practically identical with those of the early classicists.
So we see that the orchestra as bequeathed by Scarlatti was based upon a well organized body of strings, supported by a modest array of wood and brass instruments. Differentiated style of choral and instrumental writing was accentuated, and although polyphonic mannerism was still prevalent in orchestration, a tendency for individualistic instrumentation was at least apparent. On the other hand, the latent passion of the violoncello, when emancipated from the double-bass, was as yet unknown; and the harpsichord, by reënforcing the inner harmonies, covered the deficiencies of the wind instruments. That the mechanism of the latter should have remained in so immature a condition at a time when the delicate organism of the ideal string quartet had already been perfected, is but the result of natural causes. For when the supremacy of the viols was once for all established, it was of primary importance that their efficiency, above all others, should be enhanced; and thus subsidiary instruments were for the time subjected to at least comparative neglect.
The varied labors of Purcell (1658) were without the zone of eclectic progression. Although he adapted the cyclic style of Corelli, and kept in touch with the music of Lulli, whom, it is claimed, he even excelled in instrumentation, he remained true to the traditions of the English Church and English drama.
VI.
While examining the progress of orchestration, the parallel growth of organ and clavier music should not be forgotten. A comprehensive glance at the series of important writers in these branches will suffice to refresh the memory.
A distinctive style, initiated by the earlier Italian composers, Merulo, Andreas and Giovanni Gabrieli, was first exploited by Frescobaldi (1583). He promulgated a novel style of organ playing and contributed to the development of the fugue. After him, organ composition became the prerogative of the Germans, and the seventeenth century is represented by Scheidt, Froberger, Kerl, Reincken, Buxtehude, finally Pachelbel (1653). In Germany, Italy, and France, the subsequent chief exponents of clavier music were respectively Kuhnau, Domenico Scarlatti, and Couperin. Coincidentally, all three were born in the same decade as Bach.
By thus comparing the prodigious activity displayed in every branch of music, we find, as the ultimata of this epoch, that homogeneity in general had given place to a system of related tonalities, vitalized rhythm, diversified figuration, and a rational mode of expression. Moreover there were two distinct elements to build upon,—polyphony, as embodied in the contrapuntal sonata da chiesa, and the popular dance, the pivot of the sonata da camera. These two styles were capable either of further unassociated development or of reconciliation. By still further adding to such an amalgamation the principle of reiteration and thematic development of a single thought as the motive for a composition, we have as a resultant the cyclic form—first the Suite, earliest of complex forms, then the Sonata.
Musical art was now ready for a master hand who should weld its component parts firmly together. And that master was Bach.
[SUMMARY OF PART I]
[Chapter I.] The Cradle of Instrumental Music.
I. Two impelling forces: emotional expression of human feeling and pagan religious rites, account for musical development among primitive men.
Authentic history traces higher development through Egypt and the Orient to the Hellenic races, when poetry and music became conjoined.
II. Under the protectorate of the Roman Church, melody acquired plastic form, and systems of harmony, notation, and measure were established.
III. The lyrics of the troubadours revived a cult for individual emotionalism—the inherent characteristic of the Folk-song, which now influenced, and finally dominated the Gregorian Chant.
IV. Polyphonic choral art of the Netherland School developed consecutively contrapuntal technique, euphony, objective emotionalism, and culminated in the works of Lasso, when it was rivalled if not eclipsed by the creations of Palestrina. But the style of this era lacked rhythm and form. These essentials, together with tonality and a distinctive secular style, were subsequently to be developed in connection with solo singing and independent instrumental music.
[Chapter II.] The Dawn of Independent Instrumentation.
I. A desire for increased vitality and florid figuration led to embellished organ accompaniment. This process devolved to other instruments. Hence instrumentation acquired individuality, contrast, expansibility.
II. Search for intensified expression and dramatic effects led to attempts at monody. The principles of monody are to be traced to the Miracle Plays, the Troubadours, the Greek tragedies. A semblance of these tragedies as transfused into Florentine monody led to recitative and lyric solo. These contained the germ of opera and oratorio, for which accompaniment was a requisite. In consequence, selective acumen for species, balance, quality, variety, developed orchestration.
[Chapter III.] Evolution of Musical Instruments.
From primitive stringed instruments played with a bow, such as the Celtic crwth and the Oriental rebab, devolved the vielle, thence the subsequent varieties of viols proper, finally, at the end of the sixteenth century, the modern string quartet.
The pianoforte owes its origin to the monochord and psaltery with keyboard attachment, as developed from the dulcimer of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the clavichord and harpsichord of the sixteenth to the Hammerklavier of the eighteenth century. The clavichord was derived from the monochord, the harpsichord from the psaltery, the pianoforte from the dulcimer. The strings of the dulcimer were played upon by hammers held in the hand; the clavichord strings were mechanically pressed up; those of the harpsichord were plucked by quills; whereas the pianoforte is supplied with hammer-action.
The invention of wind instruments probably antedates that of strings. Emanating from the ancient Egyptian vertical flute, the flûte à bec of the Middle Ages matured into the modern horizontal flute. Akin to the single-reed species of the Greek aulos, Latin tibia, were the popularized schalmei, predecessors of the pommer and oboe families. The single-reeded modern clarinet, that came into existence the end of the seventeenth century, was an outgrowth of the chalemiax of mediævalism.
From the Roman lituus and buccina devolved side by side the trombe and Zinken of the Middle Ages. Experimental development through the stages of bent tubes, slide mechanism, finger holes, removable crooks, chromatic valves, perfected the valve-trumpet, the bugle-horn, the slide-trombone.
Instruments of percussion are the parents of all other instruments. Certain species subsequently became distinctly characteristic of certain distinct races; those most effective are now incorporated in the modern orchestra. Of significant importance are the kettle-drums by reason of their unalloyed artistic value.
[Chapter IV.] Beginnings of Orchestration.
Monteverde's creative genius led to three tangible results:—(1) Dramatic expression; (2) the founding of a serviceable orchestra based on bowed instruments; (3) diversity of style between vocal and instrumental composition.
(1) In writing for the stage, he aimed at an intensification of dramatic effects, variety in tone-color, a freer accompaniment, and relief from the monotony of recitative by the employment of a primitive arioso form. The fruits of these dramatic efforts were reaped by Carissimi in Italy, Schütz in Germany, Lulli in France.
(2) The founding of a serviceable orchestra was the result of his expressive and dramatic instinct fostered by the attempts of the Florentine experimentalists,—orchestral music and the drama being, moreover, at that time practically inseparable. His orchestration emphasized the value of strings, readjusted the balance of the wind, and suggested contrasted choirs of instruments.
(3) Diversity of style between vocal and instrumental music pointed the way to independent orchestral composition.
It was not the greatest of his successors that directly furthered the cause of orchestration. Carissimi in oratorio, Lulli in opera, only incidentally enriched instrumental accompaniment as a means to an end. Of greater stability were the orchestral efforts of the secondary composers of this era, of whom Cavalli, Legrenzi, Corelli are the most important. Cavalli established the precedent of three-part string writing, Legrenzi of equilibrium and a fairly adequate supply of strings, whereas their superior, Corelli, by developing violin technique, made possible a style of writing that ultimately matured into the classic sonata. Further originality was displayed in the chamber music of Steffani and Clari, in the concerto grosso of Torelli, in the combined harmonic and rhythmic effects of Vivaldi.
In direct lineage from Monteverde, Scarlatti stands as the second great orchestral innovator. His three principal achievements were:—(1) Balance of tone in the strings by the judicious distribution of the four notes of a chord; (2) numerical suppression of overpowering wind-instruments, and a logical usage of the same in pairs; (3) enlargement of the exterior and thematic development of the interior construction of his overtures. Incidentally, through readjustment of dynamic force, the viola gained individuality, and the strings were enabled to stand out in relief against the wind.
The general tendency of the era was one of universal musical progress in specialized instrumental writing. Homogeneity yielded to systematic harmonic progressions and well defined rhythm. Upon this basis, a unification of the dance movement, polyphony, and thematic treatment was effected in the following century.
[PART II.—THE CLASSIC ERA.]
[CHAPTER V.]
BACH, HÄNDEL, AND THEIR CONTEMPORARIES.
An attempt to portray in a felicitous manner the progress of orchestration during the classic era is apt to carry one between Scylla and Charybdis. On the one hand lies the temptation to enlarge upon the biography and extraneous achievements of the great masters, on the other, the danger of superficiality. Minuteness of detail as aimed at in the [previous chapter] when the beginnings of orchestration rested in the hands of a comparatively small number of men is here incompatible, in view of the desire for conciseness. Moreover, extended panegyrics would of necessity consist of but a flatulent plagiarism upon the voluminous and admirably written works already in existence. The safe course to pursue is therefore to survey the era as a whole in its relation to the orchestra, merely touching upon a very few of the distinctive characteristics peculiar to the most celebrated exponents.
Naturally one turns to that unbroken chain of Teutonic peers, beside whom all contemporary efforts were puny. Of these six,—Bach, Händel, Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, it might be said that only the last three were direct evolutionists of the symphonic orchestra; for Gluck was absorbed in exploring the dramatic characteristics of instrumentation, and as to Bach and Händel, in spite of their titanic contributions to music itself, neither of them can be regarded as an orchestral innovator, though this statement savors of heresy.[8]
I.
Bach (1685-1750), comparatively a recluse, was but little known to his contemporaries. His mode of life, however, was only partially responsible for this neglect, for the fact that a German imitation of Neapolitan methods was in predominance at that time, is of especial significance. Thus Haydn and Mozart, who might have reaped incalculable benefit from his experience, were unfamiliar with the greater portion of his works. This fact alone is sufficient to disconnect his name from the direct lineal chain of orchestral evolution. However, in view of the stupendous posterior influence his music was destined to wield, one cannot thus summarily pass over his contributions to orchestration.
Tersely stated, the ideal of this polyphonic giant revealed itself in subtle expression as concealed in his filigree of mercurial counterpoint, in the portrayal of inner feeling, and in profound religious fervor. A Teuton to the core, he stands as the symbolic exponent of organ and Protestant Church music. His arias are imbued with dramatic intensity and lyric pathos, and if at times portions of them seem archaic, one must remember that his art had assimilated the earlier church style and was but the corollary of it. His Passion Music not only still exists, but retains its full vitality. His church style is that of the organ, and the organ was for him the intermediary to orchestration.
Although Bach's instrumentation was by no means equal to the substance of his wonderful conceptions intended for orchestration, he did not neglect to study the prevalent Italian style of scoring, and was, to say the least, a progressive orchestrator, even if not an innovator. In his great organ works, the employment of chromatic and enharmonic modulation, the perfection of the fugue, the development of earlier strict forms eventually caused vocal music to yield precedence to instrumental. And Bach transplanted this polyphonic style into the orchestra with the result that the treatment of each individual instrument was distinctly melodic. Now this interwoven texture of austere polyphony, though resulting in a complete negation of analyzed tone-color, contained the essence of effective orchestral solo writing, as typified in his concerti grossi. Bach frequently employed the organ as the centre of his orchestra, though the instrument was never aggressive. Around it were clustered differentiated groups of the usual variety, whose mission it was to add specific unities of color rather than volume of sound.
But when Bach had occasion to introduce episodes of simplicity by way of contrast to his usual polyphony, his scoring for wood-wind was not so felicitous, and in loud passages, even when adequately represented, they were prone to be eclipsed by the strings. It is true that he was frequently hampered by a paucity of instrumentalists, but subsequent renditions of his orchestral works tend to prove that he failed to extract the best results from the wind. In uniting choral writing with the organ, Bach must evidently have been aware of the acoustic phenomenon that a literal redoubling of vocal and organ parts results in the complete absorption of the latter. For in his choral masterpieces, where the organ and orchestra are simultaneously used, we find, as a means of insuring contrast, passages wherein entire chords in the orchestra are employed as passing notes against held chords in the chorus and organ.
Bach's orchestration, therefore, stands for polyphony; melodic treatment in the voice-leading of each and every part both inner and outer; contrasted choirs of affiliated instruments for giving variety to the various sequent movements in relation to each other, rather than for episodic contrast or variety in the separate movements by themselves.
A striking contrast to Bach's secluded and uneventful career is to be found in that of his illustrious contemporary.
II.
Händel (1685-1759), the man of the world, represents the realistic, and the æsthetics of melodic form. As suzerain of oratorio, he handled the orchestra primarily as subsidiary to the voices. Unlike Bach, his influence upon organ and clavier music was small. And the value of his forty insipid Italian operas lies only in the experience it gave him in manipulation of vocal forces, and the benefits derived from keeping in touch with a cosmopolitan public. His oratorios are the composite of the orthodox style of the church, the traits of the Neapolitan School deprived of their meretricious tendencies, and a precocious expressive and dramatic instinct, the birthright of his own genius. Ultimately was added to this composite the inspiration offered by the English anthem and the talent of Purcell. Indeed, although the centripetal ideal that guided him was spontaneous and original, it must be acknowledged that in the setting of his brilliants is to be found an extraneous aggrandizement, resulting, not from eclecticism, but from plagiarism. Thus unvarnished phrases of Corelli and Alessandro Scarlatti were boldly transfused into the works of Händel when his own Muse failed him. This Italian influence betrays itself in the comparative simplicity of his modulations, and in his but moderate use of striking dissonances. The skeleton of his harmonic structures was reared on a simpler basis than Bach's; on the other hand, the massed effects of his choral polyphony have never been surpassed.
His instrumental forms were likewise Italian, and his orchestration, though masterly, was not so conspicuously original as that of his immediate great successors. Strings as the nuclei were supported by a large number of reeds. In orchestras which included twenty-five strings, frequently no less than five oboes and five bassoons would be employed. Even our modern mighty aggregation of from fifty to sixty strings would hardly bear the adjunct of ten reeds,—indeed, three oboes, one English horn, three bassoons, one contra-bassoon (eight in all) would represent the maximum if tonal equilibrium were to be preserved. However, two extenuating circumstances for this Händelian custom should not be overlooked. His method of writing for the wood did not embody those characteristics subsequently discovered by Haydn and Mozart; again, the instruments themselves lacked power. The criterion of Händel's orchestration rests almost exclusively in his oratorios. Here the mission of instrumental accompaniment was to support, strengthen, intertwine; for Händel was in quest of solidity, sonority, vitality,—terms which in this connection might be considered the synonym for the above three.
His usual method for full scoring was to double the violin parts with oboes, and the basses with bassoons. Clarinets had as yet no status; flutes added ornamentation; the brass was fully represented in logical proportion, though it was then the custom to write high trumpet parts. Next to the violins, the oboe was Händel's as well as Bach's favorite solo instrument. The organ played an important rôle in his oratorios, and he employed the harp freely for historic representations. Together with Bach, he was practically the last to make use of the theorbos. At least passing reference is due to his trios, which constitute so important a contribution to the literature of chamber music. His contrapuntal overtures and interludes, where the wood-wind are allowed greater freedom, display considerable variety. Finally, at this period the harpsichord was fortunately losing its fallacious value as a musical component of the orchestra, being retained rather as a means for conducting.
But as already stated, Händel learned to regard the orchestra not as an unenthralled entity, but rather as the chief ally of oratorio, for which the corner stone was Italian melody, the foundations comparatively simple harmonic progressions, and the superstructure the human voice, surrounded by an orchestral trellis. And the resultant was a massive tonal edifice.
The Contemporaries of Bach and Händel.
Before proceeding to a survey of Gluck's revolutionary accomplishments, it would seem in place to analyze the artistic progress of the lesser lights of this period. And since the crisis of Gluck's life was not reached until a century after the birth of those two giants, Bach and Händel, even though they were his direct predecessors and eventual contemporaries, chronological dates must needs give place to the logic of evolution.
III.
Italy. In the [previous chapter], the progress of orchestration in relation to its beneficent guardian, the drama, was traced from the improvements initiated by Monteverde through those of Scarlatti. These new doctrines were, of course, assiduously seized upon by the latter's contemporaries and immediate successors. But indeed it was not until the advent of Spontini as late as the first part of the nineteenth century that Italian orchestration was again represented by an exponent of more than secondary importance, taking into consideration the achievements of Rameau in France, not to mention the great German masters. For Pergolesi excelled particularly in string writing, whereas Cherubini's scoring shows German influence rather than Italian. Nevertheless, Neapolitan propagandism exerted world-wide influence, and was directly fostered by such men as Buononcini, Durante, Porpora, Leo, Logroscino, all of whom were born in the last quarter of the seventeenth century; to the same chronological period belongs also Lotti (1667), a worthy representative of the Venetian School, who, although primarily a composer of sacred music of marked individuality, wrote a number of operas for Venice as well as several for Dresden and Vienna. Having resided for two years in Dresden, he aided the diffusion throughout Germany of operatic and orchestral principles that were conspicuously Italian even if not specifically those of Naples. Like him, Durante devoted himself almost exclusively to sacred writing. Leo, though producing many dramatic works as well as oratorios and chamber music, aided the advance of Italian art more as the teacher of Jomelli and Piccini than by his creations. Both G. Buononcini and the singing teacher, Porpora, were through the irony of fate led to aid artistic evolution by negative means, so to speak, since the trend of their ambitions brought them face to face with the genius of Händel, upon whom their machinations acted but as a stimulus. For, as will be remembered, Buononcini's defeat in London was followed fifteen years later by a second unsuccessful rivalry instigated by Porpora's faction. Logroscino is to be remembered for his development of opera-buffa and of the Finale as subsequently applied by Piccini. But it is clearly evident that none of these representative Italian composers contributed materially to orchestration with the exception that their instrumental accompaniments acquired greater freedom.
The brief career of Pergolesi (1710-1736) was consummated during the interim dating approximately from Gluck's birth to Haydn's. His fame is confined not alone to his sacred works, such as the Stabat Mater, but to his dramatic productions as well, of which the finest example is, of course, "La serva padrona," of opera-buffa propinquities. His proclivity for employing an orchestra of strings alone, as exemplified in the above mentioned representative works, was fortunate in that thereby he was able to concentrate his thoughts upon finish and detail, such as served as a valuable model for the period in which he was living, when string writing was as yet at an immature stage.
IV.
Germany. In Germany itself Italian influences predominated, and interest was centered chiefly upon the opera, in connection with which Scarlatti's tenets of writing for the orchestra were diligently copied. German dramatic activity paved the way to the establishment in 1678 of a permanent opera house in Hamburg, which enjoyed uninterrupted existence for sixty years. Most prominent among the composers for and directors of this enterprise were Theile (1646), Keiser (1674), Mattheson (1681), and Telemann (likewise 1681). Of these, Keiser accrued the greatest temporary popularity by reason of his prolific and sensational though shallow versatility. His orchestration, which was of the lightest kind, included various alternating groups of instruments. Fétis states that Keiser employed in his opera "Frédegonde" sometimes the strings alone, or the clavichord together with plucked stringed instruments and a bass. Again, the voice was accompanied by a single violin, an oboe and a bass, oboes alone, or a flute and viols. These combinations present nothing new; they were but in accordance with the customs of the times. Telemann also was possessed of a reputation sufficient to overshadow in his day that of Bach. Though the importance of his activity has since been reduced to insignificance, credit is at least due to him, not alone for his dramatic writings, but also for his contribution to concert and chamber music, which frequently revealed strong German tendencies, all too rare in the midst of Neapolitan sovereignty. So-called symphonies, overtures, concertos, quartets and the like are included in Telemann's exhaustless list of compositions, and in view of his intimacy with Bach, these works must have wielded at least transitory influence upon the experimental stage of that master's instrumentation and orchestral form. Händel likewise for three years devoted his energies to writing operas for the Hamburg stage; but this was in his youthful days, and, as has been already intimated, these attempts were but puerile and can have no possible bearing upon the art of orchestration.
Emanuel Bach (1714-1788) was also unquestionably attracted by the doctrines of this histrionic circle, although he was never directly associated with it. (Incidentally, therefore, it should be noted that he was not the successor of Telemann as director in operatic lines, a statement erroneously set forth by one historian of repute; he did succeed him as church musical director but not until later in life. In support of this correction it is but necessary to call attention to the fact that in 1738, the very year in which the degeneracy of the Hamburg operatic experiments culminated in the relinquishment of the enterprise, Emanuel Bach, being but twenty-four years old, went to Berlin, where two years later he became chamber cembalist to Frederick the Great.) The results of his efforts are of value to posterity in that he was instrumental in causing musical composition to be established on a more decidedly harmonic rather than contrapuntal basis. For although he honestly endeavored to fathom the profundity of his illustrious father, the subtle influence of his courtly surroundings and the effervescent superficiality of Neapolitanism could not but have its effect upon his art. Again, his early training was such as to foster a regard for what has been called the "gallant" style, and, as Dr. Riemann states it: "to this very tendency he owes his greatness, for by it he became the father of modern instrumental music, the precursor of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven in the department of the sonata, symphony, etc., which he clothed in more pleasing modern dress;" and thus "the son of the last master of the old school became the founder of the new school."
Passing reference is due to three further German contemporaries of Händel who were slaves to Italian principles. These were Hasse (1699), Graun (1701), Naumann (1741). After the downfall of the Hamburg stage, two distinct efforts were made to establish Italian opera at Dresden. Now the Dresden orchestra is over three hundred and fifty years old, and the interest attached to the name of Hasse is due to his prominent connection with that organization and the constitution of the same under his management. This band had been noted for its excellence already in the earlier stages of its existence, and even at the time of Monteverde it enrolled no less than thirteen strings and ninety-three instruments of wood, brass, and percussion. These dimensions were of gigantic proportions for those days, indeed, they compare favorably with the present size of the Dresden orchestra. That of Hasse was but half as large, but the distribution of parts was, of course, infinitely superior, and an orchestra of even fifty instruments, of which only half were strings, could readily have overpowered singers of Italian opera, had it not been for the subservience of the accompaniment to "il bel canto," the meagre quality of tone of the wood-wind, and the "thin" scoring then in vogue. It consisted of twenty-five strings in judicious apportionment, two flutes, five oboes, five bassoons, two horns, besides trumpets, trombones, kettle-drums and two clavichords. The prominence of reed quality and the incorporation of two clavichords, from one of which Hasse conducted, was in accord with the usages which Händel accepted. Hasse stands as the most successful native exponent of extraneous ideas, and, like his method of conducting which originated in Italy, his harmonic progressions as well as his instrumentation are of the simplest kind and disclose the same influence.
Graun achieved renown first as an opera singer, next as an opera composer; but of more enduring worth are his sacred compositions. Nevertheless he and Hasse were for a time the only maestri who wrote for the Berlin Opera, and the orchestral scores of Graun are considered by some to suggest a transition from the earlier symphonies to those of Haydn. One of his cantatas is scored for three flutes, three oboes, two violins, one viola, a bassoon, and a chorus in six parts. To this series of composers belongs properly the name of Naumann, even though he was born in the following generation; he displayed a fatal facility in expressing himself in conventional formulas, and his career was interrupted only by the ascendency of Gluck and Mozart.
V.
France. French musical art owes the stability of her early dramatic growth to three eminent composers: Lulli, Rameau, Gluck; and the first and the last of these were foreigners. Moreover into their hands was entrusted the moulding of French orchestration, for French orchestral music was not destined to disengage itself from bondage to the drama and assert itself as a clearly defined indigenous product until the nineteenth century. A sharp line of demarcation must be drawn between each respective career of these three pillars of the nascent stage. For Lulli had appropriated to himself all the glory attendant upon the Royal Opera, not alone as the director but as composer as well. Not until after his death did it become possible for others to reap the benefits of experience in hearing their own works produced, in consequence of which, latent talent had had no chance to expand. And the interim between Lulli and Rameau is signalized as a period of reaction during which the efforts of even the most prominent writers were but a pale reflection of those of their illustrious master.
Three composers, born in the second half of the seventeenth century, namely Campra, Destouches, Mouret, were the immediate successors of Lulli, and dedicated their services, such as they were, to the conservation of his ideals. Of these three men, Campra is popularly called the link between Lulli and Rameau. Campra possessed genuinely dramatic instincts, exercised his talents along sacred lines as well as secular, and revealed certain traits of independence and originality in that he dared to depart from Lulli's somewhat austere style by emphasizing the necessity for augmenting rhythmic effects, which was distinctly beneficial in the development of orchestration. It is interesting to note that he was the first Frenchman to employ the cor de chasse in opera, although Lulli introduced it into some of his ballets. The contributions of Destouches were of small intrinsic value other than the fact that the chivalrous surroundings of his earlier career as an officer had nurtured his natural temperament for the graceful and refined. And so with this æsthetic touch of a composer otherwise lacking in musical education, he added his mite to the development of daintiness in instrumentation, such as the use of two piccolo flutes in thirds in one of his ballets, and other minor though interesting details. Of Mouret's operas little can be said; but he deserves honorable mention for his labors as a conductor of the "Concerts spirituels," which, as the name implies, had been founded in 1725 to occupy the interregna whenever the opera houses were closed for religious reasons. Consequently, his name is rightfully connected with the evolution of the concert orchestra, for the "Concerts spirituels" exercised a discriminating influence at a critical time in French musical history, especially since subsequently, about the date of Beethoven's birth, it was reorganized by Gossec, with the result that it sprang into prominence equal to that of some of the foremost orchestras of Europe.
With the advent of Rameau (1683-1764), who was born two years before Bach, the Opéra was again lifted out of the lethargy into which it had fallen. Rameau, first to offer to the world a theoretical explanation of harmonic relationship built upon a logically scientific basis, was exactly fifty years old when he made his début as an operatic writer, indeed, he did not reach the summit of his success until about the time of Mozart's birth. And since Gluck's Parisian career dates from the decade in which Beethoven was born, the chronological relationship in the labors of Rameau and Gluck can the more readily be compared. Rameau's handling of dramatic resources was superior to that of Lulli, in fact, his methods were of sufficient merit to be subsequently absorbed by Gluck himself. The three cardinal points of departure from traditional usage that have caused the name of Rameau, first of the genuinely French masters, to be so highly respected are his daring harmonic innovations, the important rôle assigned by him to the dramatic chorus, and what is more, the importance attached to orchestral accompaniment, together with increased independence and prominence for the orchestra itself, as well as enriched instrumentation in detail. Since most of his operas are published in condensed form, which, with the exception of the ritornelli, contain but the vocal, violin, and bass parts, facilities for a satisfactory examination of his instrumentation are usually lacking. This is a matter for regret, since many of his detached instrumental numbers are veritable little gems of descriptive writing in the miniature, not dissimilar in style to those written by his contemporary, François Couperin, who was mentioned in the [previous chapter] as one of the three earliest exponents of characteristic clavier music.
Though Rameau made but few changes in the constituency of the orchestra, there was assigned to each instrument an individual and appropriate rôle, and the tone-colors cross and intermingle. He extended the range of the violins, aided the independency of accompaniment by the frequent use of arpeggios in the strings, and was the first to use pizzicato chord effects in the entire body of strings at once. Although he did not employ the harp, he imitated its characteristics by means of pizzicati strings. Two horns and even two clarinets are frequently to be found in his scores, and lighter touches, such as the accompaniment of the voice by two flutes and a violin, or three oboes and a bassoon, are also to be met with.
As has been already intimated, the triumphs of Rameau were followed by a second interim that lasted for nearly twenty years. But in the case of this second interim, France was not destined to remain so comparatively unproductive as during the first. For the same period that heralds the crowning point of Rameau's fame ushers in the beginnings of French comic opera, for which date Mozart's birth is again a convenient reminder. As a result of partisanship for the Italian "bouffons," the philosopher, Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), wrote both the words and music of a little French pastoral in the style of the prevailing Italian intermezzi, and thereby excited the interest more especially of the younger composers. Duni, Philidor, and Monsigny, who were born in approximately the same quarter century as Rousseau, were particularly happy in their efforts to evolve from this germ a lighter and more popular style, and are therefore to be regarded as the founders of opéra comique, which, in the next generation, was to be moulded into plasmic form by Grétry. And no style could have been more beneficial for extricating orchestral writing out of the stiff and prosaic confines within which serious opera was prone to restrict it. On the other hand, Italian orchestration was leaning more and more toward pernicious conventionalism and tawdry superficiality. Here again the early opéra comique appeared as a felicitous counterbalance, and infused into the orchestra that sparkle and piquancy for which French instrumentation has ever since been famed. True, none of these minor composers contributed signally to the advancement of orchestration, but each helped in little ways, and their instrumentation was more correct and finished than that of their prominent successor, Grétry. Their orchestras were still somewhat massive, but showed progress in vigor and sonority, variety and lightness of instrumentation.
And so when Gluck arrived in Paris there existed already four distinct schools for orchestral writing—the rising classic purity of his own native land; the Neapolitan traditions, fast deteriorating into triviality; the legacies of Lulli, revivified and improved upon by Rameau; and the virginal essays at phosphorescent scoring in lighter vein.
[CHAPTER VI.]
GLUCK AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES.
I.
Gluck (1714-1787), the third of the great drama reformers, and predecessor of Wagner in the establishment of dramatic continuity, did not appear as the champion of revivified Hellenic ideals until advanced in years. Though he had long harbored an intense antagonism to the paltry conventionalities of the existing lyric drama, his tenets awoke no sympathetic chord in his native land. And thus it came about that the arena of Lulli's scintillating pageantry witnessed the rehabilitation of genuine, legitimate, and unaffected histrionic art. This was attained by a return to a severe and truthful mode of musical declamation, by clothing the several stage characters with distinctive individuality, and by instilling into his music-dramas in their entirety, reflection, simplicity, sincerity, pathos, nobility. The chorus was raised to importance, the function of accompaniment rendered more virile, and the orchestra was made to enhance the dramatic situations. Three defects are noticeable. Gluck made no attempt to break down the barriers of stereotyped operatic forms, his melody is at times stilted, and his music is guilty of frequent grammatical errors. Despite these facts, his choruses are worthy examples of dramatic effect, and the formal structure of his overtures is more rounded than those of even Bach or Händel. But it cannot be said that his genius was conspicuously original; he was essentially a reformer, not an innovator. For as Mr. Edward Dickinson expresses it in general terms: "Gluck's success was not due to his melodic invention or mastery of musical science, for in neither of these particulars can he be ranked among the greatest composers. His ability consisted rather of producing great effects with simple means; the severe grandeur of his style was especially suited to the antique subjects which he chose, and this style was in conformity to the peculiar genius of Greek tragedy."
To independent orchestration Gluck contributed but little, but, considering the age in which he lived, none have excelled him as an interpreter, by means of the orchestra, of pathetic expression, or in the use of appropriate instrumentation, varied and rich tone-coloring. To quote from Parry's "The Art of Music," page 220: "Moreover, the expressive qualities of his admirable recitatives are very much enhanced by his way of dealing with the accompaniment. He neglected no opportunity to make use of the qualities of his orchestral instruments—as far as in him lay—to enforce and accentuate the situations, and even to intensify the passing moment of feeling implied by the dialogue. Composers were successfully developing the sense of the functions and resources of instrumentation. Even Gluck's rival, Piccini, made some very appropriate effects by using his instruments consistently with the spirit of the situations. But Gluck applied himself to the matter with far more intensity, and far more genuine perception of the characters of the instruments. Indeed it would be hardly an exaggeration to say, that he was the first composer in the world who had any genuine understanding of this very modern phase of the art. Mozart was the first to show real natural gift and genuine feeling for beautiful disposition of tone, but Gluck anticipated modern procedure in adapting his colors exactly to the mood of the situation. A good deal had been attempted already in a sort of half-hearted and formal manner, but he was the first to seize firmly on the right principles and to carry out his objects with any mastery of resources." On the other hand, "his orchestration has none of the roundness or balance or maturity of Mozart's. It is unequal and uncertain, and requires humoring in performance to make it produce the effect which is intended."
Gluck relied to an excessive degree upon the string band, and his orchestral writing lacked that balance which the contemporary and sequent classicists regarded as the fundamental requirement. Notwithstanding, his instrumentation exhibits many original insignia that are worthy of record. Thus he demonstrated the dramatic power of low-written viola parts, made varied and characteristic use of the tremolo, was the first to introduce mutes into the orchestra in his "Armide," and caused the trombones to emerge from their hitherto menial subservience, and stand forth in all their dignity and tragic power of portraying peace, sorrow, fear, religion, majesty. And by proving the superior effectiveness in employing a group of three trombones, he established a precedent that has been endorsed by all subsequent composers.
But it must be confessed that in turning over page after page of his scores, one discovers the fact that in deploying his wood-wind Gluck usually laid but modest demands upon them. Their duties were more commonly restricted to the lending of comparatively simple tone-color for heightening dramatic action, or for relieving the monotony of prolonged use of strings alone. Of weird and tragic effect is his concentration of all high wood-wind unisono. But many of his other orchestral characteristics bear the impress of conventionalism then in vogue, which soon becomes monotonous; and his manner of writing for the deeper instruments causes much of his orchestration to sound heavy.
All things considered, the same must be said of Gluck as of his vancourier, Lulli, and of the great oratorio composers, Carissimi and Händel—neither he nor they were attracted by the kaleidoscopic potentiality of the orchestra when isolated from its kindred rivals, the opera and the oratorio. And although his name is to be revered for having opened up the resources of the orchestra, the attention he bestowed upon it was but a reflection of the greater glories that he offered up to the shrine of dramatic lustration.
The Contemporaries of Gluck.
For two hundred years dramatic writing had now dominated musical art, therefore orchestration as well. The best fruits of these two centuries of experiments having culminated in the reforms of Gluck, his music dramas, with their continuity of action and dignity of subject-matter, were to be surpassed only by Mozart's splendid attainments, by reason of the latter's perfect melody, pure form and admirably adjusted orchestration.
A final glance at the dramatic situation of Europe with the date of Beethoven's birth as a consistently convenient landmark will be necessary in order to comprehend the significance of Mozart's operatic constellation as it appeared on the horizon. For the decade beginning with 1770 was replete with big events, preordained, as it were, to do homage to the future master—Beethoven. Of the generation born between 1714 and 1756, further mention has yet to be made of the Frenchman, Grétry, of the Germans, J.A. Hiller and Dittersdorf, and of the conservators of declining Italian dogmas, Jomelli, Piccini, Sacchini, Paesiello, Cimarosa, Salieri.
II.
France. After the defeat of the kindly Piccini,—who deserves more credit than is usually awarded him, not alone for his graceful melody, clear and sonorous orchestration, but especially for his judicious application of the orchestral instruments to the demands of a situation,—the stage of the French capital, now monopolized by foreign composers, patronized for a brief period the productions of the Neapolitan Sacchini, and of Salieri. The former was also a fair composer of chamber music, whereas the latter is signally notorious for his intrigues against Mozart. Both of them were pupils of Gluck, and their instrumentation was but an imitation of his. But meanwhile, after Grétry (1741-1813) had fairly launched his graceful conceptions, the public soon recognized in him a worthy successor to Rameau, even though the genre of his offerings was of a different mould. Interest in imported art waned, and the career of the second great French composer began.
Grétry, though founding a permanent and powerful national school that was distinctly the opposite of tragedy, was an ardent disciple of Gluck's doctrines, being himself even more of a radical in his indifference for actual singing as a mode of dramatic interpretation. But in spite of his sensitive perception not alone for truthful interpretation, but as well for melodic design and novel scenic effects, his comparative neglect of the orchestra is unique in the annals of musical history. His strings were generally written in three parts, with frequent gaps between the bass and the two upper voices. His harmonies were usually too thin, and his orchestration as a whole was conventional and uninteresting. Fortunately his delicate musical thought did not require elaborate instrumentation as a means for expression, and so he rarely drew upon the resources of the orchestra for more than was absolutely necessary in simple accompaniment to the voice. Grétry is cited as having declared that the accompaniment to solo singing should be as the pedestal to the statue; but unfortunately his own orchestral accompaniments do not conform to this pretty saying, for his pedestals were feeble and lacked the essentials of ornamentation. And although Grétry towers above his contemporaries as the first great representative of opéra comique, he contributed practically nothing new to orchestration other than the introduction, in a few isolated cases, of some unusual instruments of percussion and other minor details of instrumentation.
III.
Italy. In 1770, Jomelli, who for fifteen years had occupied the post of Hofkapellmeister in Stuttgart, had just returned to Italy, where he found Paesiello in high favor, and Cimarosa about to begin his operatic career. Both Paesiello and Cimarosa were soon to pose as rivals to Piccini as well as to each other, but of the two, Paesiello was possessed of more scholarly attributes which found outlet in numerous independent instrumental works, including twelve symphonies and six quartets, whereas Cimarosa displayed simpler though more spontaneous fertility, and his works are better known to posterity with whom he ranks as one of the greatest Italian composers of his day. Nevertheless, the instrumentation of both Paesiello and Cimarosa was weak and non-progressive. The most prominent contemporary exponent of chamber music was Boccherini, who is credited with the authorship of no less than three hundred and sixty trios, quartets, quintets and the like, besides twenty symphonies. In antithesis to the transportation into Germany of exotic ideas, Jomelli and other Italians living in Germany showed the influence of their new surroundings by improved orchestration, though unfortunately this had but little immediate effect on their compatriots at home. For the Italians still held tenaciously to their traditions, and handled the orchestra principally as a means of support for and contrast to the human voice. Fearful lest the singer should be overpowered, they were overcautious; as a result, their scoring was thin, and decidedly weak in the bass. Jomelli's efforts are therefore especially praiseworthy. In his operas, the orchestra acquired greater importance, and, like Sammartini, he awakened also a keener interest for purely instrumental music. He was one of the first to make really effective use of the crescendo, increased the efficiency of the violins by adding richer and more varied ornamentation, and showed a tendency to make proper use of tone-color. In a word, his instrumentation, together with that of Pergolesi, ushered in a new epoch in Italy.
IV.
Germany. The seed of the new movement in France soon bore fruit in Germany in the form of the Singspiel, which, however, sturdily maintained its indigenous characteristics, since not the form but the spirit only of the French comic opera with spoken dialogue had been accepted. J.A. Hiller, as the prime mover in thus establishing a national form of operetta, was emulated by Dittersdorf, who learned much from the French composers, though more from Haydn, as is evidenced by the form and instrumentation of his symphonies. The climax of German operatic enterprise in the eighteenth century was reached when in 1778 the "Deutsches Nationalspiel" was founded in Vienna, bringing to that city lasting prominence in dramatic affairs. For the liberal spirit that was shown in throwing open its doors to all worthy applicants, irrespective of nationality or style of writing, attracted such composers as Gluck, Dittersdorf, Salieri, Mozart. And the eclecticism in objective, in form, in orchestration, that consequently pervaded the artistic atmosphere which Beethoven was soon to breathe, must have unconsciously struck a sympathetic chord in the insatiable longings of Beethoven's soul to find food for his selective and synthetical methods of procedure.
V.
The Concert Orchestra. Meanwhile the concert orchestra was rapidly winning wider recognition, since Haydn and his contemporaries, Sammartini, Gossec, Grétry, had already excited marked attention. In 1770 the "Concerts des Amateurs" were founded by Gossec, followed shortly by his reorganization of the "Concerts spirituels." And but a few years later the Leipzig Gewandhaus, of which Hiller was the first conductor, was placed on a permanent basis, being largely due to his untiring efforts in behalf of orchestral concerts.
Although the permanent bulwark of modern instrumentation was reared by Haydn, important experiments were successfully developed by the Milanese, Sammartini, and the Bohemian, Stamitz, both of whom were born at the same period with Gluck; further by the German, Cannabich, and the Belgian, Gossec, both born in the same decade as Haydn; finally, by the Frenchman, Grétry. Thus representatives of five nationalities were simultaneously engaged in carrying on the same work, their fields of activity being, moreover, widely dispersed. Sammartini, also noted as the teacher of Gluck, remained loyal to his own city; Gossec and Grétry were occupied in Paris; Stamitz and Cannabich, conductors rather than composers, were successively settled as directors of the Electoral band at Mannheim.[9]
It is a peculiar coincidence that Italy, which has never yet produced a great symphonic writer, should be able to point to Giovanni Sammartini as the earliest exponent of this form in the modern sense. For already in 1734 his first orchestral symphony was produced in Milan where he was conductor. At that date Haydn was but two years old. Of course Sammartini obtained no such results as did his great German successor, but he at least suggested the proper course by which clearer form and healthier orchestration might be secured, and his instrumentation abounds in new and interesting traits. In addition to having written a host of symphonies, of which twenty-four were published, his labors in other branches of composition were prodigious. Incidentally, his experience as a writer of string quartets taught him the value of the viola, in consequence of which, independent parts for that instrument as advocated by Scarlatti are likewise to be found in his orchestral scores.
The value of Gossec's persistent energy in both building up the standard of already existing orchestral organizations and in establishing a new one is twofold. For not only was the French public educated to encourage home talent to seek expression in independent orchestral language, but also by affording these same French aspirants frequent opportunity for hearing the masterpieces of foreign contemporaries was the French style of writing for the orchestra immensely strengthened and broadened. Considering the close affinity that bound Gossec's birthplace to France, he may well be regarded as a representative of the country which he had adopted as his own. As the founder of the first genuine symphonic orchestra in France, he himself set the example as a diligent composer of symphonies and string quartets, although, unfortunately, the former were at first not favorably received. Nevertheless, his perseverance eventually won the day, especially after he had been crowned with new laurels as an operatic composer; and at the time of the Gluck-Piccini controversy, some of his later symphonies finally obtained for him that recognition to which he had aspired. Lavoix avers that Gossec was the first French writer to make use of the clarinet. Again, its introduction into the Opéra in 1772—just in time to be of service to Gluck—is apparently authenticated by Francoeur. Since, however, the clarinet was already embodied in Rameau's scoring, the present writer desires to call attention to these obvious discrepancies. At all events, we know that the resources of the clarinet were developed by both Gossec and Gluck, even though at that time only an incomplete scale in the keys of C and F could be obtained from the instrument. Gossec was not conspicuously original either in instrumental form or in orchestration, even though his Requiem, for example, does contain instances of interesting scoring. Neither does the fact that his first symphony preceded Haydn's by five years credit him with being an epoch-making orchestral composer. For his productions, like those of Sammartini, are now but of historic interest, whereas Haydn's still find ready listeners. And so his place in history is distinctly that of pioneer and promoter of independent orchestral performance, and with the organization of the "Concerts des Amateurs" his programs included the works of such foreign composers as the Belgian, van Malder, the Bohemian, Wanhal, likewise Stamitz, eventually Haydn. His career is certainly unique, since in view of the fact that he was born two years after Haydn's birth and died two years after Beethoven's death, the complete panorama of the classic era was unfolded before his eyes, and during the course of his ninety-five years it was his privilege to witness the ascendency in turn of Gluck, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven together with their co-workers. During his lifetime, moreover, there sprang into existence also the Romantic Movement which, emerging out of the later works of Beethoven, was seized upon and elaborated by Spohr and Weber with their followers.
A striking illustration of the extent to which at this period the concert stage was already exerting its power is afforded by the biography of Grétry, who in spite of his restless dramatic disposition found time, in the enthusiasm of his productiveness, to write no less than six symphonies, not to mention a number of minor works in the form of chamber music—and this in the face of the fact that he did not know how to write for the orchestra! His saving grace in this field was his fund of humor, tuneful melody and sound musical judgment.
Notwithstanding all that has just been said, these signs of activity in France cannot be compared with contemporary achievements in Germany, henceforth to be the permanent home and supreme arbiter of cyclic form and stable instrumentation. And not the least of the inceptive stimuli leading to the discovery of the proper constituency of a perfectly balanced orchestra must be accredited to the Mannheim orchestra, which became celebrated under Stamitz and Cannabich. At the time of Mozart's birth, that organization embraced a string band of ten first violins, ten seconds, four violas, four 'cellos and four double-basses. It will be seen at a glance that excepting a paucity of violas, the value of plentiful strings and their numerical relation one to the other was keenly appreciated. The wood-wind was likewise logically represented by two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, to which clarinets were added some ten years later. There were also four horns, twelve trumpets and trombones, kettle-drums, an organ, and a chorus of twenty-four voices. Why so many instruments of brass should have been considered necessary is open to question. Independent parts for not more than two horns and two trumpets was the rule among the early symphonic writers, and not one of Haydn's symphonies contains parts for more than two horns, neither did his simple demands require more than two trumpets. True, Mozart occasionally called for four horns in his earlier works, but like Haydn, he used trumpets but sparingly. It is hardly conceivable that competent conductors of so noble an organization could have been guilty of such inartistic procedure as to allow the brass, comparatively unimportant as their functions were at that time, to be reënforced by reduplication. These supernumerary instruments must have remained silent at concert performances, being reserved rather for dramatic representations or sacred renditions for which they could be of more legitimate service.[10]
Interesting are the comparisons between the constituency of the Dresden orchestra in 1732 and that of Mannheim in 1756. It will be remembered that when referring to Hasse, the Dresden Opera was cited as harboring twenty-five strings, wood-wind instruments to the number of twelve, two horns, a number of trumpets and trombones, besides kettle-drums and two clavichords—in all some fifty instrumental performers. And, as already enumerated, the orchestra at Mannheim was comprised of thirty-two strings, six wood and sixteen brass instruments, as well as kettle-drums and organ, making a total of about sixty. All in all, the venerable operatic orchestras during the eighteenth century were the fuller and richer in resources, and were in possession of a larger numerical disposition of wood and brass even if inadequately supplied with strings. But the tendency to correct this deficiency in the constitution of concert orchestras resulted in the acquirement of greater elasticity and transparency, which was of all importance for the interpretation of the works of the great classicists whose servitor the orchestra was soon to become. And subsequently in writing for specific orchestras for which a sufficient number of strings had not yet been supplied, it may be that these masters intuitively presaged that this much needed metamorphosis of internal organization would gradually take place as the direct reflex of their own exalted demands for improved instrumentation and artistic rendition. Fortunately, sentient appreciation for careful rehearsal leading to a high standard of rendition had already found a champion in Emanuel Bach, and this objective was jealously fostered by Gossec, Stamitz and Cannabich, all of whom devoted themselves assiduously to the obtainment of purity of tone, equality of dynamic force, precision and coöperation, elasticity, phraseology, nuance. Naturally, the violin, by virtue of artistic merit and paramount importance, received their most careful attention, in consequence of which the standard of the strings as a whole was elevated to that proficiency which made it possible for the classicists to employ them with such freedom as had never before been essayed.
The aim of this comparative survey of orchestras and orchestration as related with the complex phases of musical progression during the careers of Bach, Händel and Gluck has been to elucidate the artistic situation as found by the three succeeding masters.
[CHAPTER VII.]
HAYDN, MOZART, AND BEETHOVEN.
I.
It is almost superfluous to say that Haydn[11] (1732-1809), the true father of the modern symphony and string quartet, was, after Monteverde and Scarlatti, the most potent factor in establishing a perfectly balanced orchestra as a whole. Indeed, one might modify the eulogy previously bestowed upon Monteverde, and say that whereas he may be looked upon as the father of modern instrumentation, Haydn was the father of modern orchestration. Like Monteverde, he was constantly experimenting, being, moreover, aided by his exceptionally favorable position at the court of Prince Esterhazy. To such an extent are his achievements known to all, that it is permissible to but touch upon the vital landmarks which constitute the distinguishable features of his quasi-created cyclic forms. This term is used advisedly, for although he accepted the erudite forms of his predecessors and contemporaries, and, like them, devolved the symphony from the earlier concerto for several instruments, he improved upon these forms to such a degree, that they emerged from their archaic chrysalis in rejuvenated attire.
Lack of space forbids more than a passing reference to the coevolution of the string quartet, that momentous vehicle for the sonata form, whose growth was concurrent with that of the symphony. But in both these branches of art Haydn left his indelible stamp upon the creations of Mozart and Beethoven, indeed Mozart, though more emotional and impressive, did not enlarge upon Haydn's form, and even Beethoven, the tone-poet, remained to the last true to its substance. Parenthetically it should be remembered that on the other hand Haydn's quartets and symphonies were in turn influenced by Mozart, from whom, moreover, both he and Beethoven acquired a more subtle insight into the skilful handling of the wood-wind. The symphonies of Haydn and Beethoven have been felicitously compared by styling those of the former, comedies, those of the latter, tragedies. Finally, the extent to which the reputation of Haydn's symphonies travelled is discovered in the already mentioned performances thereof in Paris (at the "Concerts des Amateurs," founded by the Belgian Gossec, for which organization Haydn specifically composed several symphonies), not to speak of his triumphs in London as well as in the musical centres of his native land.
These rather extended references to the rise of symphonic music are surely justifiable in that from it dates the dynasty of monarchical orchestration.[12]
Haydn's development of his formal architecture can be summed up by saying that he knit together and enlarged the cycle of complex forms, extended the separate movements individually, imparted to them order, clearness, variety, and developed free thematic treatment.
As has just been stated, the orchestra in Haydn's plasmic hands improved as a unit. He introduced no new instruments excepting later on the clarinet, indeed, his scores betray on the whole a greater reticence in the employment of numeric varieties of instruments than do those of Bach and Händel. Haydn's genius matured slowly; his earlier scoring does not exhibit any advanced degree of originality, and not until after Mozart had in turn become the greater did Haydn stand forth in the true strength of his greatness. The antennae of that long-lived crustacean, the Neapolitan School, had touched even Haydn as they had Händel before him, and the influence was directly beneficial, since it modified the Teutonic tendencies inoculated by his predilection for the style of Emmanuel Bach, and fostered a regard for melody. Though he used no new material, Haydn instituted a freer method of employing each instrument according to its peculiarities and powers. Despite the fact that he was addicted to the custom of three-part string writing as established by Cavalli long before, he developed the art of welding the component parts firmly together, and thereby secured vitality and elasticity.
The strings were now one complete and compact body.[13] Careful attention was bestowed both upon the manner of writing for them and upon a judicious numerical selection of each species to the end that they might not only balance, but also assist and show off to the best advantage the characteristic qualities of every part, one against the other. Only the violoncello was as yet subservient, and the harpsichord was still retained.
In the distribution of the parts for the wood-wind, he at first imitated Händel's usual methods of merely reënforcing the string parts in unison. But having benefited by repeated practical experience, and especially after the appearance of Mozart upon the arena, Haydn's writing for the wood became freer.[14] The oboe, whose functions are now largely supplanted by the more feminine and soulful clarinet, was much used as a solo instrument. And when at last the great classicists came upon the discovery that by supporting a solo instrument with held chords in the wind,[15] they could attain a more pliant mode of expression than had been possible in the earlier stiff and formal polyphonic style,—from that time on a new and poetic pathway was opened up, and the modern style of writing for the wood-wind may be said to have fairly begun.
In the use of the brass Haydn was conservative. Trombones were absent from his symphonic scheme, and the province of trumpets, if they were used at all, was exceedingly primitive, so that only the horns gained greater freedom of treatment. Thus, for example, the valuable and eventually common custom of strengthening the bass by sustained tonic and dominant horn parts was employed by Haydn in his symphony in D, No. 2 (Breitkopf & Haertel). But more than two real parts for horns are not to be found in any of his works, and the demand for four horns in the Hunting Chorus in his "Seasons" will, at a glance, be recognized as having for its purpose the reduplication of two-part writing, so as to obtain a clearer melodic delineation. And although prominence of metallic quality was thus acquired, the rich chord effect of later times is conspicuous for its absence.
When Haydn wrote his first symphony at the time when Mozart was in his infancy, he employed, in addition to strings, only two oboes and two horns. By the end of the eighteenth century, the normal symphonic orchestra had been increased so as to include strings, two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets and kettle-drums. To these were quite occasionally added two clarinets. The rôle of the trumpets as well as of kettle-drums was to augment the effectiveness of climaxes, to emphasize rhythm, to add virility, or to suggest martial portraiture. But the harp shared the fortunes of the trombones in that it was as yet denied admittance to the symphonic phalanx.
Of incidental interest is the characteristic deployment of bassoons in the slow movement of the symphony in D already referred to; and the introduction into the orchestra of massed short chords struck simultaneously by all the strings must also be attributed to Haydn.
Finally, his "Creation" embodies successful expedients for descriptive writing. In this masterpiece, the strings, together with a full complement of wind instruments in pairs, are further augmented by the usual kettle-drums, a double-bassoon, and three trombones,—an aggregation which, apart from the manner of using it for the purpose of tone-painting, is typical of Beethoven's enlarged orchestra as employed in his crowning graphic movements. However, this demand for so huge an apparatus as the assistant to Haydn's mightiest choral and embryo-romantic composition was exceptional, and as the corollary of his orchestration, when reviewed as a whole, one might say that he worked with simple means, and although his pages do not present delicate combinations, he obtained vigorous and fresh results.[16]
II.
Mozart[17] (1756-1791), universal conqueror, peerless melodist, unrivalled purist, contributed equally to the development of orchestration as to all other branches of musical art. Opera, symphony, chamber and church music alike blossomed and ripened at his magic touch; and the tonal tints of his scoring assumed a mellow guise foreign to the lighter shading of Haydn's orchestration. Mozart was a cosmopolitan in so far as that he moulded his polyphony, formal structure and orchestration in accordance with the classicism of Teutonic lineage, imbibed the limpid suavity of Italian melody, and adapted the tragic energy and emotional interpretation of the text as initiated by Gluck in France. This vivid emotionalism is plainly to be seen in the dramatic scenes of "Idomeneo" and "Don Giovanni." His perfect command of contrapuntal subtleties, thematic development, and vocal composition, combined with the most precocious creative genius, enabled him not only to build upon the heirloom of Bach's church music and Haydn's symphonies and quartets, but to establish a basis for subsequent genuinely German opera. For it is beyond question that specifically the "Zauberflöte" contains the germ of Weber's romanticism.
For the form of his independent instrumental works, Mozart followed the precepts of Haydn, but he enlarged them, and imbued their contents with a certain strategic power for evoking more serious contemplation and enduring impressiveness. Adherence to tonality, not only in each individually complete movement, but also in successive and related complex forms, was one of the fundamental canons of Mozart's creed. This tonal consistency is to be found even in his operas, whether employed as the connecting link between the more gentle sections—suggestive of a delicate string of pearls, or as a mode of obtaining subtle continuity of thought and action in the dramatic portions.
In orchestration, Mozart combined the best characteristics of both Gluck and Haydn, and in his hands it gained counterpoise and vitality. As a natural outcome, the harpsichord was banished from the orchestra, but incidentally it should be remembered that by no means did Mozart undervalue this instrument in its proper sphere, for to him is due the ascendency of the pianoforte concerto, which he left as a direct bequest to Beethoven, who not only seized upon it with avidity, but even caused it to immortalize some of his most sublime conceptions. Mozart's writing for the orchestra is distinguishable for amalgamating as well as for contrasting the earlier polyphonic methods with the monophonic style that was being cultivated by his contemporaries. The last movement of the "Jupiter" symphony will at once be recalled as an admirable illustration of advanced orchestral polyphony.[18] As has just been said, Mozart followed and elaborated Haydn's symphonic instrumentation, but he added greater freedom to the strings,[19] more variety and contrast to the wood,[20] developed the art of combining wind accompaniment and instrumental solo effects,[21] and in general illustrated the capabilities and ideal functions of each specific instrument. Furthermore, constant application to operatic writing stimulated a desire for varied rhythm, and this attainment is reflected in his symphonic compositions. Finally, it should be said with emphasis that sensitive regard for individualistic tonal tints in instrumentation was one of the most conspicuous attributes of Mozart's genius, and despite the fact that already the masters of his epoch had had recourse to the application of variated tone-color, nevertheless Mozart is universally considered as having been the first to do so in a really successful manner. By relegating the harpsichord, it became necessary to write for the strings in such a manner as to insure independent solidity and coherence. Or, to put it the other way, Mozart's scoring for the string band made further employment of the harpsichord superfluous. This he accomplished in the face of frequent three-part writing. The danger of incurring caesuras in harmonic structure or lack in volume of sound was obviated by the skilful artifice of contrapuntal motion which, so to speak, generates warmth of tonal color—heat and motion being an equivalent one for the other, and, as Gevaërt suggests, this theorem is applicable to music. But Mozart by no means neglected four-part writing,[22] and both the violoncello and the hitherto much neglected viola were advanced to a position more in keeping with their worth.
Mozart's employment of the symphonic orchestra was one of conservatism in regard to compass, as illustrated by the G minor symphony, from which even trumpets and kettle-drums are debarred. Peculiar to the scoring of his greatest symphonies is the consistent use of but one flute, whereas the remaining wind is represented in pairs. Delicacy was the key-note for the wood-wind. For example, he delighted in embellishing a melody by the combination of violins redoubled in the octave by a flute and in the sub-octave by a bassoon. Another distinguishable trait of his was the substituting of an oboe for the violins in the above combination. These are but passing exemplifications of countless dainty conceptions that the most casual perusal of his pages will divulge; and they offer an unwearying source of delectation in consequence of their naïve and guileless character. It is true that for Tuttis, Mozart was satisfied with certain conventional methods, such as an exaggerated use of wood-wind passages in thirds and sixths. But this practice was common likewise to Beethoven, and not until after the advent of the Romanticists did it fall into disuse, indeed, no less a modern conservative than Brahms was content to adapt classical mannerisms of this nature. But only subsequent to Mozart's visit to Mannheim when he was twenty-one years of age, and not until after he had convinced himself of the indispensability of the clarinet—that sympathetic medium between high and low wood-wind—was it possible to give adequate variety of color and effect to this hitherto rather homogeneous secondary choir. And thus, concurrent with the emancipation of the wood-wind from many stereotyped formulas, was the recognition that clarinets began to command in Mozart's orchestral scheme. And although they were originally included only in the symphony in E flat,[23] he eventually added them to the one in G minor; and in the "Zauberflöte" the instrument received effective and original treatment. Again, although Mozart's sunny nature would not naturally conceive such morbid and sentimental effects as elicited by Weber from the lower tones of the clarinet, he at any rate appreciated a certain value of such tones by employing them in the course of flowing passages[24] as in the first Finale of "Don Giovanni." Mention is due, at this juncture, of the prominent appearance in the "Zauberflöte" of the obsolete basset-horn, since, as will be recalled, it belongs to the genealogy of clarinets and is now superseded by its descendant, the bass-clarinet. The classic literature of chamber music presents no more favorable examples for profitable study than do Mozart's divertissements, in which various combinations of wind instruments alone are treated with rare delicacy and effectiveness. Not being subjected, as in orchestral compositions, to comparison with the greater agility and more sensitive attributes of the strings, they are enabled to assert themselves, and to display in full measure their individual characteristics and expressive powers.
Mozart's requirements of the brass show but a slight improvement upon those of Haydn,[25] excepting that his style of writing for it betrays better judgment. A demand for more than two horns was rare, and occurs, strange to say, in his earlier works, for some of which he employed four. Later on he again exceptionally used this number in "Idomeneo." But of his representative creations, the G minor symphony is scored for but two horns, the E flat and C for two horns and two trumpets. Consistent with the usage of his predecessors, it was only in church music for redoubling the voices and in operatic works for dramatic effects that Mozart drew upon the trombones, at first sparingly, eventually, as in the "Zauberflöte," more freely; and Gluck's precedent of employing them in three-part harmony was sustained.
In so brief an outline, it is not possible to more than indicate the cardinal points of evolutionary advancement as contributed to orchestration by Mozart. But one prominent feature of his preëminent versatility reveals itself in the fact that whereas the long line of his illustrious predecessors had, with the one exception of Haydn, developed the art of writing for the orchestra more as a secondary means to some one particular and all-absorbing primary end, Mozart's genius devoted itself with impartiality and parallel success just as much to instrumentation and orchestration as to the formal structures of his instrumental works or to the contents of his operas and masses. And the laurels that crown the herculean achievements of his brief life are symbolic of the æsthetic, the chaste, the ideal.
III.
Three prominent characteristics are associated with the name of Beethoven[26] (1770-1827), the greatest universal master in the chronicles of musical history. To him must be attributed the ideal culmination of classic purity, both as to structural design and thematic development. Through him, form became subordinated to human expression. From him the Romantic Movement drew its direct inspiration. In other words, Beethoven forged the connecting link between the classicists and the romanticists, between absolute and programmatic, objective and subjective music, between the primarily formal and the essentially soulful. In the general principles of form and technical procedure, Beethoven accepted the precedents established by his immediate predecessors, and his earlier works show the influence of both Haydn and Mozart. But the impelling force of his independent and assertive genius, nurtured by the rugged characteristics peculiar to the tendencies of his Dutch and German descent, urged him to further bold and unhesitating innovations whenever novel effects could thereby be attained.
In connection with distinctively formal treatment, the most prominent feature of this amplification lies in the development even to minuteness of inner details, the unification of thematic material, the increase of proportion, and the acquisition of breadth of style and nobility of subject-matter.
But of far more momentous purport are the fruits of his spirituality and profound religiousness. Beethoven was a tone-poet to the core, and his search for emotional expression caused him to disregard fixed design whenever it interfered with freedom of thought. Thus in adapting the cyclic sonata form, he enhanced it by means of perfected monody based on the higher Folk-song, by means of richer harmonies, freer modulations, varied rhythm, greater license in the juxtaposition of tonalities, and elasticity in the application of traditional forms—Beethoven's quest for beauty of form being, moreover, only secondary in importance to its own reactionary fitness for beauty of expression. Thus Beethoven became the master of form and expression combined, reconciled, unified.
Mozart and Beethoven share the same unique and unparalleled characteristics in that the genius of both of them was so universal in nature as to make the question of deciding in what particular branch of composition they excelled a difficult one. So Beethoven, greatest of symphonic exponents, enriched the world with string quartets and chamber music that are perfection exemplified, produced a mighty series of pianoforte concertos and sonatas that are unexcelled, and dedicated a host of his loftiest inspirations to the glorification of the Church. He wrote but one opera—it has become immortal; but one oratorio—the sincerity and depth of its pathos awaken sympathetic response at each renewed hearing; but one violin concerto—it is still the ideal, likewise the despair of every violin virtuoso. And upon riveting the attention solely upon the instrumentation of his orchestral pages, one finds that every bar of the score bears the impress of a master's touch, and of such a master as the world had never before produced. He discovered the utmost capabilities of each instrument, introduced innovations in the method of handling them, both as solo interpreters and in combination, and illustrated that even without the aid of a so-called modern orchestra, picture-painting can be attained. That is to say, impressions of the mind of insufficient distinctness to call forth verbal utterance, are nevertheless capable of tonal exposition. Hence arises the expression "musical language," and quite especially in connection with instrumentation one says that the orchestra "possesses the faculty of language." The Pastoral Symphony is a graphic exemplification of this truth.
Beethoven's instrumentation bears the unmistakable impress of his own personal individuality, and purely sensuous tone-effect is ever subordinated to the inceptive æsthetic scheme and clearness of thematic delineation. The employment of specific tonal quality of the various instruments capable of variated coloring, effectiveness, and scope, was absolutely faithful to the momentary requirements of the orchestral situation. And thus, while his predecessors had been absorbed in the contemplation and exposition of abstract musical thought, and, on the other hand, the sequent composers of the nineteenth century laid undue stress upon the portrayal of their conceptions in gorgeous orchestral raiment, Beethoven's masterpieces embody the temperate assimilation of fervent feeling, architectural structure, contrast of the various choirs, and intermixing of instrumental coloring, simultaneously and harmoniously developed, without apparent effort, all-satisfying, inseparable.
One feature of Beethoven's greatness is emphasized by the self-restraint he exercised in usually making demands for but a modest apparatus as the interpreter of his orchestral conceptions. Thus, in spite of being tremendously progressive, and betraying at every step the inclination to enlarge the scope of his creations in every way, he was content to employ Mozart's scoring for all of his symphonies excepting the Fifth, Sixth, and Ninth,—that is to say, strings, the four usual wood-instruments in pairs, two horns, two trumpets, and kettle-drums, were practically sufficient for his needs. This numerical distribution of parts differed but slightly in all but the above three excepted symphonies. Comparing this aggregation with those in Mozart's three representative symphonies, we find, as the only difference, that Beethoven's wood-wind includes two flutes in all but the Fourth Symphony, and that clarinets were now enrolled as a permanent adjunct to the orchestra. Two horns sufficed for them all excepting for the Third, "Eroica," where three are to be found, this being, moreover, the first time that more than two had been employed in symphonic writing by Beethoven.
The orchestral canvas of the Fifth, C minor, presents the coöperation of a piccolo flute, a contra-bassoon, and three trombones; all of these, however, remain silent until the victorious entrance of the Finale. To the Sixth—the Pastoral—are added a piccolo flute and two trombones instead of three, whereas in the Ninth, the usual symphonic cohort is supplemented by a piccolo, a double-bassoon, four horns, three trombones, and human voices. It is worthy of note that this new departure of employing a second couplet of horns in the symphonic scheme concludes the evolution of the classical orchestra. For the incorporation into the concert orchestra of the oboe da caccia, resuscitated in the form of the English horn, of the modern bass-clarinet, of the opheicleide and the usurper of its functions, the bass-tuba, was an outgrowth of the Romantic Movement. Likewise the harp, in spite of its venerable origin and perennial usage, was, during the eighteenth century, an adjunct to the operatic orchestra only, for histrionic effects and historic representations.
The scores of no other composer can be more profitably studied than those of Beethoven, and a high percentage of the examples set forth in all standard treatises on instrumentation are drawn from his works. Apart from the fact that his orchestration not only embodied but improved upon and matured the orthodox style of writing as bequeathed to him by Haydn and Mozart, his pages abound in daring innovations, bold and startling; in subtle combinations, delicate and pathetic; a kaleidoscope of sequent effects now contemplative and restful, now tender and languishing, impetuous and fiery, at times even jocose, weird, bizarre. And throughout is manifested the depth of his nature, the nobility of his purpose.
In writing for the strings, Beethoven attained a degree of excellence that has never been surpassed. He fulfilled every requirement, whether of solidity, sonority, flexibility, or delicacy.[27] With bold and vigorous strokes, he infused warmth and increased vitality into the inner and lower voices, and the quartet being thereby more closely knit together, the resultant effect was that of breadth and power. He was the first to carry the orchestral violins into the ethereal domain of their highest range in the overture to "Egmont." Incomparable is the boisterous string passage toward the close of the "Leonora" Overture, No. 3, as well as the fughetta in the Scherzo of the Fifth Symphony, where the double-basses are for the first time allowed unfettered license.[28] Finally, Beethoven elevated the violoncello once for all to its proper sphere as an emotional and heroic interpreter, of which the C minor Symphony affords a favorite example in that the 'cellos, assisted by the violas, usher in the opening theme of the slow movement.[29] The violas likewise gained in individuality, and in the last movement of the Ninth Symphony even divided viola parts are to be found.
Beethoven was especially happy in discovering the ideal potentialities of the wood-wind, and from him originated the practice of reuniting the higher species both in contrasting and amalgamating choirs.[30] No better model for successful flute writing can be cited than that in the Allegro of the "Leonora" Overture, No. 3; and the genial attributes of the oboe which, though latent, had never before been exposed, are fittingly treated in the scherzos of the Pastoral and Choral symphonies. The clarinet was now a regularly constituted member of the orchestra, and specimens of characteristic writing for it are to be found in the slow movements of the symphonies in B flat and A, and also in the Finale of the "Eroica," where a judicious introduction of clarinet arpeggios lends warmth and color to the Melos.
Perhaps no other orchestral instrument received more careful consideration from Beethoven than the bassoon, and his partiality for it resulted in detaching it from its former subservient position as bass for the wood and horns, and elevating it to the dignity of an equal associate to the remaining wood-wind, with especial regard for the quality of its tenor range.[31] Thus Beethoven evinced a peculiar predilection for redoubling a melody, assigned either to violins or to an instrument of wood, with a bassoon in the sub-octave. Again, he recognized its sustaining powers as independent bass, provided the balance of the instruments to be sustained were nicely adjusted. Gevaërt calls attention to just such a combination in "Egmont," where one bassoon acts as bass to the strings while the 'cellos and double-basses occasionally assist. And, as he further remarks, the choice was admirable, for no other instrument, as, for instance, the horn, would have been suitable. Consistent with his sentient appreciation for the bassoon, Beethoven rescued the double-bassoon[32] from comparative obscurity, and although he employed it invariably as a reduplication of the 'cellos and basses, it was awarded a more conspicuous rôle in "Fidelio" than in the C minor Symphony.
Classic conservatism in the use of the brass found no exception even when consigned to Beethoven's inspired pen other than the previously mentioned augmentation of horn parts and the more frequent requisition for trombones. His horn writing[33] followed that of Mozart, but his style was freer, bolder, and the results more resonant, especially in such passages as the familiar jubilant fanfare in the Scherzo of the "Eroica" and again in the Scherzo of the "Pastoral." On the other hand, the decidedly primitive functions of the trumpets[34] were in no wise ameliorated, an incident that is largely to be accounted for by the mechanical limitations of the instrument which still existed at that day. As for the trombones, to have drawn upon them merely for increase of volume, would have been contrary to the ethics of Beethoven's artistic creed. The fact that they did add sonority was therefore but a subsidiary issue, and in climaxes such as the Finale of the Fifth Symphony, their mission was primarily that of lending grandeur and richness to the final scintillating tableau.[35]
In conclusion, the kettle-drums must receive especial mention. It will be noticed that as yet but passing reference to them has been made in these pages, for it was left to Beethoven to discover their genuinely tragic resources. He not only enlarged the scope of the instruments by having them tuned to intervals other than the conventional and stereotyped fourth and fifth, but gave them expressive powers such as had never been attained before. Consequently there was added to the orchestra a practically new member, since he caused the tympani to respond to his dictates, as it were, with warm and throbbing pulse-beats, at times permeating, dominating, subduing the entire orchestral color-scheme. Striking illustrations of this latent power are to be found in the third movement of the C minor Symphony[36] and the Finale of the Pianoforte Concerto in E flat; likewise in the Finale of the Eighth and the Scherzo of the Ninth symphonies, in both of which they are tuned in octaves; and in the introduction to the second act of "Fidelio," where they are tuned to the interval of the diminished fifth. Further specimens of specifically solo writing will be recalled in the Adagio of the B flat Symphony, the beginning of the Violin Concerto, and the introduction to the "Mount of Olives."
A discussion of Beethoven's titanic achievements, even if confined to his orchestral writings, is prone to lead the student into so deep a maze of absorbing illustrations of his genius, that it becomes necessary to find an arbitrary stopping place. Therefore this review may be tersely summed up by saying that the culmination of classic purity, the subordination to human feeling of purely formal structure and sensuous tone-effect, and a systematic development of descriptive music, are the essentials of Beethoven's creations. His orchestration stands as a model for all time. He is the connecting link between the classicists and the romanticists. And in a word, the consummation of his artistic striving was freedom and spirituality.