Part 10

When Siegfried, having slain the dragon, comes out of the cave, that music is heard in the orchestra. Does any one need a handbook to tell him that it refers to the hero’s being now the master of the Rhine gold? Again, after telling Alberich that he who can make a ring out of the Rhine gold will have unlimited power, one of the girls sings this:—

[Illustration:

But he who passion’s power forswears, And from delights of love forbears, But he the magic commandeth the prize to mould to a ring. ]

Here the text fully identifies the music as the motive of renunciation, and as such we recognize this melody when Wotan in the last scene of “Die Walküre” parts from his best beloved daughter, Brünnhilde. This first identification of a theme enables the composer to attain some of his finest effects, for he makes some motives have an air of prophecy. For instance, two motives are especially connected with Siegfried, and one of them refers to his being a great hero. This motive is first heard in the last scene of “Die Walküre” before Siegfried is born, and before Brünnhilde knows that he is to be her lover. Yet it is Brünnhilde who voices it in foretelling his birth to Sieglinde:—

[Illustration:

The highest hero of worlds hid’st thou, O wife, in sheltering shrine. ]

Thenceforward we know that melody to be the theme of Siegfried, the hero. Immediately following this is introduced a theme which appears again in the full voicing of the orchestra after Brünnhilde has restored the Rhine gold to its rightful owners and immolated herself on Siegfried’s funeral pyre at the end of the last drama of the series. If we wonder at its meaning there, we refer to its first appearance in “Die Walküre,” and find that Sieglinde utters it as a proclamation of the divine womanhood of Brünnhilde:—

[Illustration:

Oh, marvelous sayings, Maiden divine. ]

Another example will show how a representative theme may be modified, according to the development of the person whom it represents, without losing its identity. The theme which has special reference to Siegfried’s buoyancy of spirit, the producer of youthful enthusiasm, is intoned by the hero on his horn thus:—

[Illustration: [Music]]

In “Die Götterdämmerung,” when Siegfried has become a fully developed man, this melody is modified so as to signify his mature heroism. It is then proclaimed by the orchestra thus:—

[Illustration: [Music]]

As the writer has had occasion to say elsewhere, “The alteration to which the music is subjected is one of rhythm. The _motif_ changes from six-eight to common rhythm. The effect produced is one of those which are founded upon the nature of music. A six-eight rhythm is light and tripping; a four-beat rhythm is firm and solid.” This alteration of the representative theme, then, “develops the character of the melody along the same lines as Siegfried’s character has developed,—from lightness and ebulliency to firmness and solidity.” These examples should be sufficient to give the reader a tolerable comprehension of the manner in which Wagner worked out his new operatic form. It seems necessary now only to lay special stress upon the suggestion already offered, that the listener at the performance of a Wagner music-drama does not treat either himself or the composer fairly when he busies his mind wholly with the identification of the themes as they present themselves successively to his hearing. The proper effort is to get at the organic connection between action or thought and the music, to read each by the light of the other, and to see whether it is not possible to penetrate by means of the two into the spirit of the drama. If the hearer accomplishes this, he will have at least the right to say that he has approached the consideration of this art work of Wagner’s in a spirit of fairness; and though he may not know the title of a single theme, he will have a far better understanding of their meaning than they who have committed to memory some one of the thematic handbooks.

This exposition of Wagner’s theories will have failed to achieve its purpose if the reader does not now clearly perceive that its fundamental postulate is that the opera is a _drama_ in which music is merely the chief vehicle of expression. This ruling idea led Wagner not only to abandon the old formulæ, but to do many things which would, perhaps, be inexpedient to attempt in absolute music. The great Bayreuth master has been severely censured, by those who cling to the belief that music should always be pretty, for having written many harsh progressions and for having indulged in remarkable boldness in his harmonies. These so-called sins of the master must find their justification in the fact that he was not aiming at purely musical beauty. The whole purpose of his work was “exact and lifelike embodiment of the poet’s thought.” When the emotion of an actor was harsh, the music had to be harsh. When the emotions were grand and beautiful, the music had to be of a similar character. It is for these reasons that we find the snarling anger of Alberich and Mime, the bitter hatred of Ortrud, the fury of Isolde, voiced in music which is not pretty, but which is truthful. But on the other hand, when Wagner has to express the sorrows of the Volsungs, the fierce and sudden passion of Siegmund and Sieglinde, the awful revulsion of feeling in the death of Siegfried, or the highest elevation of woman’s love in the last moments of Isolde, he rises to a sublime height of melody, an overwhelming dignity of harmony, and an irresistible eloquence of instrumentation not equalled by any other composer. As Louis Ehlert, not a Wagnerite, has well said: “Wagner’s music always impresses us with the idea that we are in the presence of genius. It may at times be ugly, obtrusive, and noisy; but it is never silly and insignificant.”[20]

Much of the pungency of Wagner’s music, which makes it disagreeable to timid ears, is due to his progressiveness in the matter of harmony. He has gone to the furthest limit in the use of passing notes, as primarily embodied in the polyphony of Bach. He has followed the rule thus formulated by Dr. Parry:—

“Suspensions are now taken in any form and position which can in the first place be possibly prepared even by passing notes, or in the second place be possibly resolved even by causing a fresh discord, so long as the ultimate resolution into concord is feasible in an intelligible manner.”[21]

Many of Wagner’s harmonic progressions belong to that class which instruct rather than obey the theorists. These progressions have all been found capable of justification by analysis, and will therefore remain as part of Wagner’s contributions to the development of musical science and art. In considering these novelties, we must remember that genius is usually in advance of its day, and what sounded strange at first by reason of its novelty will in good time become part of the common diction of the art. In instrumentation, Wagner also made many innovations, and it is indisputable that he was the greatest master of the art of scoring who has ever lived. He showed a profounder insight into the individual capacity of every instrument than any composer except Berlioz, and in fecundity of combination he excelled even the gifted Frenchman. He enriched the body of tone of the modern orchestra by the employment of the tenor tuba, and emphasized the value of the neglected bass trumpet. His addition to the customary number of horn parts splendidly improved the mellow tone and solidity of the brass choir, and his use of the bass clarinet, not simply as a solo instrument, but as a re-enforcement of the organ-like bass of the woodwind department, was a stroke of genius. He further developed the expressiveness of the woodwind band by the novelty of his distribution of harmony among its members. Not only did he allot solos to them with unerring judgment, but departing from the conventional style of the classic symphonists, who used their wood instruments in pairs playing in thirds and sixths, he wrote for these instruments in a marvellously effective dispersed harmony. In writing for the strings, Wagner divided them more frequently than his predecessors had done, often making six or eight real parts among the violins alone. Altogether his instrumentation is richer in its polyphony and more solid in its body of tone than that of any other composer. He has been accused of being noisy, but power of sound is not necessarily noise. There is more noise in some of Verdi’s shrieking piccolo passages, accentuated with bass-drum thumps, than in the loudest passage that Wagner ever wrote.

Taking him by and large, as the sailors say, Wagner is the most striking figure in the history of music. Whether the future will or will not accord to him the position granted by the musical world of the present—that of the greatest genius (though not the profoundest musician) the art has produced—he will remain fixed upon the records as the most commanding intellect that ever sought to express its thought and accomplish its purposes though the medium of music. His influence upon his contemporaries has been larger than that of any other master since the science of modern music began. One has only to study the latest operas of that real genius, Verdi, to perceive how one of the most gifted musical minds of our time was forced to yield to the convincing truth of Wagner’s ideas. As for those of less original force than Verdi, they have one and all—even Mascagni, who is as purely Italian as Wagner was purely Teutonic—been swayed by his irresistible influence. Even the symphonic writers have been guided by him, and no man can ever again write an orchestral score as if Wagner had not lived. The futile controversy about his theories and his style will probably be kept alive for some years by those who persistently refuse to remodel their inflexible conceptions of what ought to be after the splendid pattern of what is. But Wagner’s theories will live, for he was the fulfillment of the prophetic words of Herder on Gluck: “The progress of the century led us to a man, who, despising the frippery of wordless tones, perceived the necessity of an intimate connection of human feeling and of the myth itself with his tones. From that imperial height on which the ordinary musician boasts that poetry serves his art he stepped down and made his tones only serve the words of feeling, the

## action itself. He has emulators, and perhaps some one will soon outstrip

him in zeal, overthrowing the whole shop of slashed and mangled opera-jingle, and erecting an Odeon, a consistently lyric edifice, in which poetry, music, action, and decoration unite in one.”

[Illustration: N. J. Henderson.]

[Illustration:

THE ANIMATED FORGE MOVEMENT. ]

[Illustration:

PANTHEON OF GERMAN MUSICIANS

(1740–1867.)

_Reproduction of a painting by W. Lindenschmit._ ]

[Illustration: Music in Germany]

[Illustration: [Fleuron]]

MUSIC IN GERMANY

Germany, the foremost of musical nations, owes her present supremacy not only to the genius of her great masters, from Bach to Wagner, but also in a large degree to the native impulse of her people, who for centuries have been distinguished for their earnest love of music.

In the Middle Ages the Germans possessed in their folk-songs (Volkslieder), Minnesongs and church chorals a rich fund of music, inexpressibly dear to the people. These precious heirlooms have been cherished and preserved, and their peculiar earnestness, purity of style, and depth of sentiment have rendered them sources of lofty inspirations to the great masters who have achieved for Germany her world-wide fame in music. It is unfortunate that our knowledge of German popular music in the Middle Ages is not as full and trustworthy as that concerning the beginnings of contrapuntal art in the Netherlands,[22] and the development of Catholic Church music. We have the best inferential evidence that the sense of melody and rhythm existed in definite form among the people earlier than in church music. This evidence comes to us from an observation of the devices to which the monks of St. Gallen resorted, in order to popularize the Gregorian song in Germany. For, whereas the plain chant of Gregory seems never to have been musically enjoyable to the Germans, certain _sequentiæ_ introduced by these monks, notably by Notker, surnamed the Stammerer († 912), became universally popular among the people. These “sequences” should not be confounded with the so-called sequences defined in our modern treatises on harmony. A sequentia was a hymn, with words in rhymed Latin set to fitting music. Such sequentiæ were sung by trained choirs at certain moments in the service, and the congregation joined in the phrases like “Kyrie” and “Alleluia” which followed. “Veni Sancte Spiritus,” “Stabat Mater,” and “Dies Iræ” are sequences of this sort. These sequences are really concessions to the popular taste of the time. The mass of the people loved melody and rhythm, characteristics which were ultimately recognized as necessary to church music.

The folk-songs of Germany are quite unlike the Minnelieder (love-songs). This is evident both in the words and melodies. The folk-song is more naïve, tender and rhythmical than the heavy and solemn Minnelied. In most cases the latter resembles the choral in having slow and equal notes. Comparatively few of the old folk-songs have come down to us unchanged, and of still fewer do we know the date of composition. Probably we owe many of them to travelling minstrels, who went about from place to place.

During the sway of the Troubadours, the love of poetry and song spread over Europe, and Germany was directly influenced by them. The Minnesingers were a similar class of knightly lyrists. Their favorite meeting-place was the Wartburg, near Eisenach, at the Court of Hermann, Landgrave of Thuringia. Among the most celebrated of these poet-singers were Wolfram von Eschenbach, Walther von der Vogelweide, Heinrich Schreiber and Heinrich von Zwetschin. The influence of the Minnesingers was greatest in the thirteenth century, and rapidly died out in the following. They were succeeded by the Mastersingers who were of the burgher class, and included in their ranks schoolmasters, clerks and mechanics. The foremost Mastersinger was Hans Sachs, the famous poet-cobbler, who lived in Nuremberg in the sixteenth century. The music of the Mastersingers was in general heavy and expressionless, very much like church psalmody.

Wagner has immortalized both classes of mediæval singers in his “Tannhäuser” and “Mastersingers,” but the true source of his inspiration was not their music, but the poetic and dramatic characteristics of the picturesque life of those days.

The folk-songs were more rhythmical and melodious than either the Minnesongs or Mastersongs. It is certain that as an element of influence in the practice and development of music in the latter part of the Middle Ages and at the time of the Reformation, popular music in Germany had risen to an eminence hardly second to the Gregorian song.

Some of the music of the Minnesingers was a direct outgrowth from the folk-songs. Their poems were composed principally to interest those who lived at court, but the music, so far as it had melodic character, was imitated and developed from the melodies of the people. A rude and simple instrumental accompaniment was characteristic of these productions. The element of declamation, too, must have been very important, for even up to the thirteenth century the “singing” and the “saying” of poetry were identical in meaning.

The folk-songs had great influence, as we have seen, on the melodic invention of composers of the Reformation. Other influences were potent, however, in determining the various forms of composition. The development of counterpoint in the Netherlands, and the higher _a capella_ church style in Italy, were important for Germany. Attempts were made to treat secular melodies in the elaborate style of the Netherlanders, with the melody in the tenor, accompanied by several contrapuntal parts.

Heinrich Isaak, who was a member of the choir of the Emperor Maximilian from 1493 to 1519, enjoyed Italian training, and wrote sacred and secular music in the prevailing Flemish style. He won for himself the title of the “German Orpheus.” His contemporary, Heinrich Finck, was likewise famous and beloved. Also Stephan Mahu, a singer in the choir of Ferdinand I., was of the same school, and wrote motets and “lamentations” in a simple but sublime style. The earliest Protestant music was in the style of these masters, and the choral with contrapuntal accompaniment was suggested by their treatment of sacred chants and secular melodies. Under the influence of the Reformation, sacred music was cultivated with renewed fervor.

Martin Luther, the head and front of the great movement, took a profound interest in music, which he exemplified by his noble “Ein’ feste Burg,” and other melodies and hymns. Associated with him were the musicians Johann Walther and Louis Senfl. Their labors did not extend beyond the middle of the sixteenth century, and may be said to mark the first period of Protestant Church music. Walther was court musician at Torgau when called by Luther to Wittenberg to collaborate with the singer, Conrad Rupff, concerning the arrangement of the German mass. Walther’s choral book was the first one published. It appeared at Wittenberg in 1524, under the supervision of Luther, who wrote a preface to the work.

[Illustration:

LUDWIG SENFL. ]

The most able musical character of the period was Ludwig Senfl. He was born and educated in Switzerland, and was a pupil of Heinrich Isaak. He became a member of the choir of Emperor Maximilian, and in 1530 was chosen director of church music at the Bavarian court in Munich, a position afterward held by Orlando Lasso.

Senfl was not only a composer of motets and other church music, but also, according to the custom of his day, set to music many ancient odes, particularly those of Horace. A collection of these odes was published in 1534 at Nuremberg. Senfl did not compose original chorals, but in his contrapuntal treatment of them displayed a higher degree of skill and taste than his contemporaries, and he was clearly the forerunner of masters like Eccard and Michael Prætorius. A pure, religious spirit animates his works, and the chaste style of his themes and counterpoint renders his music interesting. Among other masters of this period who were influenced by the Flemish school may be mentioned Heinrich Finck, Rahw, Resinarius, Agricola, Duces, Dietrich and Stolzer. Finck is especially noted for his motet-like arrangements of chorals; and Rahw published in 1544 a collection of chorals to which the above-named composers and others contributed.

As has been said, this activity in Protestant music was not without parallel in Catholic music. Indeed, the works of these same composers were sung in the Catholic cathedrals of their native land. Heinrich Isaak, who has already been mentioned, was the only noteworthy composer of this time who devoted himself exclusively to Catholic Church music. His work, in common with that of a multitude of lesser masters, was surpassed infinitely by the achievements of Orlando Lasso. This great musician, although a Belgian by birth, spent much of his life in Germany, and from his prominent position at Munich wielded a powerful influence on the musical life of his age.

The second period in the development of Protestant Church music may be said to have begun about the middle of the sixteenth century, when it became the fixed custom to place the melody in the highest part of the harmony. When given to the tenor, the melody could never assert its rights, for it was often lost in the polyphonic complexity of the other voices. Its transference to the soprano—a reform suggested by the _stile familiare_ of Josquin de Près and by the Italian _frottole_ and _villanelle_—had been determined by the Calvinist psalm collections of 1542 and later. This new style of composition was assiduously cultivated during the latter half of the century, and its ablest representatives were Hassler, Eccard and Michael Prætorius.

Hans Leo Hassler was born at Nuremberg in 1564, and died in 1612. He was educated in music by Andreas Gabrieli at Venice. He was one of the first organists of his time, and a clever contrapuntist and composer. Although a disciple of the Venetian school, his compositions have a genuine German simplicity and strength; but the most justly celebrated German composer of the century was Johannes Eccard, who was born at Mülhausen in 1553. It was conjectured that he was a pupil of Lasso. Eccard’s music is simple compared with that of his contemporaries of the Venetian and Roman schools. He was content to use his gifts in a less pretentious way, but nevertheless his Festival Songs deserve a place among the best church music. They are a perfect embodiment of religious devotion, and show a complete mastery of the peculiar form which he adopted in his music. In his works the melody appears in the soprano, but is not sufficiently individualized to be separated from the harmony. The parts are generally five in number, they move freely, and are well adapted to the voices of the singers. Eccard was likewise the composer of sacred songs, which are noble in comparison with similar music of his day; but his attention was devoted chiefly to church music. Two of his pupils became celebrated musicians, Johann Stobäus and Heinrich Albert. The latter had an important influence on the early development of the German Lied.

[Illustration:

HANS LEO HASSLER. ]

[Illustration:

TITLE-PAGE OF “SYNTAGMA MUSICUM.”

(See page 573.) ]

One of the most prominent masters of the early part of the seventeenth century was Michael Prætorius (1571–1621). He witnessed the great change which was then taking place in music, but contributed nothing to it himself. He endeavored, however, to educate his countrymen to appreciate the new style of secular music which, in Italy, was then making rapid headway in the operas of Peri, Caccini and others. For a number of years he was organist and director of music at Brunswick, where he died. In his great admiration and study of the new Italian masters, he did not, like his eminent successor, Heinrich Schütz, lose his nationality. The number of works he composed, collected, and elaborated is two thousand.

His most important contribution to music, however, is his “Syntagma Musicum,” a theoretical work of great value to students of musical history. Concerning instruments and the theory of music, it is a rich source of knowledge.

During the seventeenth century the opera was invented and ardently cultivated in Italy. With the adoption of the new lyric style of recitative and aria, much greater scope was possible for artistic instrumental music than ever before. The violas and other bowed instruments were brought into prominence, and in the course of the seventeenth century formed the basis of the orchestra. Yet, during the latter half of the sixteenth century considerable use was made of instrumental accompaniment in church music. In the choir, directed by Orlando Lasso, in Munich, from 1569 till 1595 there were twelve bass singers, fifteen tenors, thirteen altos, twenty sopranos, and thirty instrumentalists. The Dresden band had ninety-three wind and percussion instruments, and only thirteen stringed instruments. The curious character of some of these combinations is indicated in the clearest possible way on the title-page of Prætorius’ “Syntagma Musicum.” Here we see three separate choruses, each accompanied by a separate organ. In the first of these (at the left of the illustration) the voices are supported by stringed instruments, in the second (at the right), by reed instruments, and in the third, by trombones and bassoon.